Tumgik
#eventual romance
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katara speaks to each member of the gaang individually and finds out that aang has been head over heels with her for years and no one ever bothered telling her. this takes place after the fire lord is defeated, but in my version, they never kissed in the finale:oo katara is basically dumb in terms of love and so is aang and they are peak miscommunication trope and theres too much zutara content and not enough kataang
OR katara interrogates each of her friends (toph, sokka, and zuko) and comes to the conclusion that she has lived for years without the kind of love most people wish for their entire lives
....
Aang liked Katara. Like-likes her, even.
Wow, she thought to herself, I really should’ve grown out of using the phrase “like-like” by now.
She just couldn’t use the other word. That four-letter word that communicated such intense, devoted emotion. As soon as Toph said it, it seemed simultaneously to be the most obvious thing in the world and yet the most fundamentally incorrect thing Katara had ever heard.
“Wh-what,” Katara almost stammered, tripping over her words in a manner uncharacteristic of the Gaang’s most graceful member. “What gave you that impression?”
She was met with a blank stare and a raised eyebrow. “Have you not noticed the way he reacts when you’re in danger? When you’re hurt?” She paused, rolling her eyes incredulously. “For heaven’s sake, Katara, Twinkle-Toes gave up firebending after lightly toasting your hands. He gave up the avatar state for you. To be honest, if it would save you from some impending doom, I think he’d give up being the avatar for you, as long as you’d end up okay.”
“I think that’s taking the assumption a bit far.”
“I say that that doesn’t take it far enough.”
“I, I just- know he doesn’t feel that way about me. In the cave of two lovers, back before you joined the group, we were split from Sokka and when I thought we needed to kiss to get through the cave…” she blushed, remembering the embarrassment that had burned through her body. “He… he made it clear that he wasn’t interested.”
She was met with an eye roll. “Whatever you say, Sugar Queen.”
....
♥ the rest of the (completed) fic can be found here!! ->
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sweetlyskz · 6 months
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Emerald Gem|| Chapter 1
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Chapter one|Chapter two|Chapter three|Chapter four|Chapter five|Chapter six|
Paring: OT7! x Fem!Reader
Overview: Living away from society has its perks. All natural food from your thoroughly cultivated farm, no nosy neighbors, and peace and security with your animals. But sometimes you did get lonely, having no one to talk to but the cows and pigs. However, when 7 extremely wanted hybrids stumble upon your deserted farm, everything changes.
Genre: Hybrid Au, Strangers to lovers, slow burn
unedited*
At dawn, the roosters began to crow. They were your personal alarm clock. By the afternoon, you would have the Vegetables plowed and all the pigs fed. Emerald garden, full of color, would be watered. After all the chores were done, you could spend time on your hobbies. Painting, writing, cooking.
You truly kept yourself busy. But it became boring at times, lonely.
Emerald manor, your beloved home, was built for a family. With a large living room, a generous dining room, and too many bedrooms, it could be overwhelming for you. You liked to think about how you could fill this space, getting married, having a family. But you quickly realized that those things don’t come easy. Tired of the loneliness, you thought about adopting a pet. Maybe a dog to help with the farm?
And one day while you're cleaning the chicken coop you spot a fox about to pounce on one of the chickens.
“Hey!” you exclaim. “Get out of here!”
The fox stopped in its tracks and peered over at you, giving an intimidating glare. Then you realized, that wasn’t a fox.
It’s a person.
“Wait!” you attempted to come closer, but with each step forward, the fox went two steps backward. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”
The fox seemed dubious, cautiously stepping towards you. “F-food, please.” His voice was raspy, sore.
You immediately ran to get some food, coming back to the coop with some leftovers. Maybe this will suffice, you thought. You sat him down on the grass patch next to the chicken's den. You watched him devour the meal, as if he hadn’t eaten anything in weeks. Based on his appearance, he probably hadn’t. His fur coat was dirty and torn. You could see his ribs and his belly rumbled with each bite. “Sorry, miss”, he whispered.
You shook your head. “Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong. I’m Y/n. May I ask your name?”
You could tell he was nervous. Something about your presence made him anxious and fearful. Is he like this with everyone?
“H-Hoseok”, the fox uttered. “But I can’t stay long. My pack is waiting for me.” With a slight struggle, he stumbles back on his two feet. You grab him before he takes off.
“Please wait”, you politely asked. “Let me give you some food to take back to them. Don’t leave yet.”
He paused for a moment, seeming to be pondering over his next steps. “Okay”, he spoke softly. “But don’t be long. They may worry.”
With that, you hurry back into your home, running to the fridge to see what you can scrap up. Hopefully I have enough for all of them, you thought. Maybe you can give them a couple of chickens from the coop.
While carrying plastic wrap covered plates to your garden, you hear a scream coming from the coop. That must be Hoseok. Without haste, you ran to the chicken coops, the food left for the birds. Hovering over Hoseok was what looked like a wolf– well half wolf.
“Back away from him!” You yelled at the top of your lungs, trying to scare off the scary hybrid. He ignored you completely. Suddenly, you gain the courage to step up to it, pushing it off of the fox.
“Are you okay?” You helped him back on his feet, feeling the trembles in his hands. “Did he hurt you?”
“N-no, he would never hurt me”, He stuttered. “You don’t understand.” You looked at him confusingly, then looked at the wolf. He was fuming with anger.
“Y/n, this is my packmate, Joon.”
***
You’re not sure how feeding one hybrid led to having seven hybrids on your couch, but you have no one to blame but yourself.
“You want us to do what?!”
“Live here?” It was really just a random thought that popped in your head. You didn’t give it any thought. And seeing them dirty and hungry on your couch just made you blurt it out. Hoseok seemed thrilled but his Pack alpha, Joon, wasn't too excited.
“You must be out of your mind”, he laughed. “What do you think we are, pets?”
“No, not at all!” You shook your head. Something in the back of your mind tells you that they’ve been burned before, that they’ve been mistreated. You feel sort of sympathetic. Could they not trust anyone? “You guys don’t even have to stay here long. I just want to treat your wounds and offer some food.”
He still seemed doubtful. “Yeah? And what’s in it for you?”
That's the question he's been dying to ask. What about you? You thought about it for a moment. Wouldn’t any human being want to help out someone in need? The answer to that is no. However, maybe they need some good in their lives.
And you could use the company.
“Well, I kind of live here by myself”, You explain. “My parents moved to the city so I don’t see them often, and I don’t have any other family or friends. If I’m being honest, I really just need someone to converse with. And maybe a little help around the house.”
One of the packmates raised his hand, as if asking permission to speak. “We left the other home we were in. They may still be looking for us. We don’t want to put you in any danger.”
“We can figure all that out later”, you promise him. “Right now, you guys just need to wash up and get a proper rest.”
Hoseok turned to Joon, waiting for his response. “Please, Joon. We’ll be good, I promise.”
He glared at you for a second, trying to sense if this was another trap. Maybe she’s genuine, he thought. “Okay, but we won’t stay for long.” You could hear sighs of relief. Even you let out a puff of air, not realizing you were holding your breath.
“Thank you. Thank you so much for trusting me. I know that’s not easy.” You gave them a tour of Emerald farm, showing them their sleeping quarters and where they can wash up. When evening came around, you prepared a feast. Your hybrid guests gobbled down all they could– except Joon. He didn’t eat, probably from fear of being poisoned. Hopefully, one day he’ll trust me, you thought. But for now, all you can do is show them tender care and affection until they believe it.
When it becomes time for everyone to sleep in their rooms, you're left alone in the living room with our thoughts. Maybe some television will clear your mind. You never really use it. Living on a farm left you with plenty of other things to do, but why not? Turning on the television, you flip through the channels until one catches your attention.
Breaking news! Seven dangerous hybrids escaping from a research facility
*Taglist open!
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joelalorian · 20 days
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Fall Into Me
dbf!Joel x f!reader
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The first TLOU fic I ever read was a dbf!Joel story and it left an indelible mark on my soul. Unfortunately, I never bookmarked it so I have no idea which one it was. It's only natural that I had to try my hand at one at some point. So, here we are.
Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.
Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.
Word Count: 4.1k
Series Warnings: Mature to start, but will ultimately be Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. There will be angst, drama, fluff, humor, romance, smut... basically, the works. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname from her dad, which will be explained at some point.
Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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Chapter One: The Day That I Met You
If you asked him over a decade ago where he’d be now, Joel Miller would not have placed himself as a single father to a tenacious pre-teen desperately trying to keep things afloat. He spent too many hours in the week working to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. He would be lost without the help of his brother and the few friends he had. He had no social life to speak of and could not for the life of him remember the last time he went on an actual date.
No, back then, Joel thought he’d be living the good life in ten years’ time – traveling, going out with the boys, maybe have a girlfriend or wife. Basically, just getting to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Don’t get him wrong, though. He was still living a good life; it just was a different sort of good than what he hoped for back in the day.
He loved his daughter with every fiber of his being. Sarah was the best damn thing that ever happened to him, his entire world, and he wouldn’t change the past ten years for anything. He bent over backwards doing whatever it took to make his little girl feel cared for, happy, and loved. He just wished there was a little energy left for something for himself at the end of the day.
Joel Miller was drained. Mentally, physically, and emotionally.
He awoke with a groan as the bright sunlight broke through the gap in his curtains. It was Saturday – his birthday – and he hoped to sleep in, at least a little. Between the brightness of the morning and the stifled sounds of clanging pans and voices carrying up the stairs from his kitchen, sleeping in was not happening.
He hauled himself out of bed with a groan worthy of a man twenty years his senior and stretched out his limbs to ease the achiness in his bare back and chest from too much manual labor. Throwing on a pair of well-worn sleep pants and a faded tee shirt, Joel slipped from his bedroom and down the stairs. He moved rather quietly for a man of his size, stealing a moment to lean against the entryway into the kitchen and watch as Sarah and Tommy worked together making breakfast.
The counters were a mess of spilled pancake mix, eggshells, and… was that coffee dripping over the edge and onto the floor? It was a toss-up on who made the bigger mess, his ten-year-old daughter, or his grown ass brother. Still, Joel could not stop the smile spreading across his face as he watched them laughing and teasing each other. That, right there, was the reason he worked so hard, why the loneliness was worth it.
When Tommy flipped the stovetop off, Sarah turned to find her dad smiling goofily at them. “Happy Birthday, Dad!” she exclaimed, launching herself at his chest. Her lanky arms wrapped around his neck as he lifted her off the ground in a big bear hug.
“Thanks, baby girl,” Joel replied, pressing his lips to her forehead in a quick kiss before he settled her feet on the ground.
“We made you breakfast!” Sarah declared, gesturing toward the disaster zone formerly known as his kitchen.
“I see that,” he chuckled, voice still slightly rough with sleep.
Tommy turned with a smirk, hands grasping two plates filled with bacon, eggs, and pancakes. “Take a seat, brother. Let us take care of you on your birthday.” Placing the food on the small dining table, Tommy roughly patted his brother’s shoulders. “Don’t worry ‘bout the mess, I’m on cleanup duty after we eat.”
“We expectin’ company? That’s a helluva lot of food,” Joel grumbled. He needed coffee, stat.
“Yeah, JB is comin’ over to see ya before heading to the airport. His daughter finished grad school over the summer and is moving back home.” Tommy set more food and a full mug of dark roast coffee in front of his brother. The scent alone made Joel perk up a little.
The Millers hadn’t met you yet, having only become friends with your dad through work after you’d already left for college on the east coast. Your dad had a good decade on Joel, but he and the Miller brothers got on like a forest fire from what he told you. With visits home always short and rushed, busy catching up with family and your own friends, there was never time for your dad to introduce you all. Now you were coming home for good and would have plentiful opportunities for spending time with your dad and his friends.
“Speak of the devil,” Tommy muttered as the doorbell rang. Sarah bounded to the door to greet your dad with a hug. In many ways, the girl reminded him of you when you were young, and it always brought a smile to his face.
“There he is! The man of the hour. Happy Birthday, buddy!” Your dad, John, or JB as the Millers called him, ruffled Joel’s already mussed hair, leaving a few locks standing straight up in further disarray. Pulling a 12-pack of beer from behind his back, your dad set it on the table in front of Joel, topped with a little red bow. “I gotcha a lil’ something to celebrate.”
“Good man,” Joel replied with a chuckle. “Have a seat and help me eat all this. Tommy just told me your lil’ girl is coming home, finally.”
Your dad’s face lit up even more at the mention of you coming home. “She’s not so little anymore, but I sure am glad she’s moving back here. Said she had enough of the east coast, but I think she just missed her ol’ man.” After wolfing down some food, he added, “Think we could host a small barbecue here this coming weekend to celebrate? Your backyard is way nicer than mine and you got the pool and all.”
“Not to mention that fancy ass grill,” Tommy chimed in.
Swallowing a long sip of his morning go juice, Joel nodded. “Of course. Invite whoever you want. I’m looking forward to finally meeting your daughter.”
“Me too!” Sarah added. She heard a lot about you from your dad and hoped you were as cool in person as he made you out to be.
Joel’s mind started spinning upon hearing his daughter’s excitement. With her school hours being so different from his typical work hours, he was spending a small fortune on after school care for Sarah. She was still too young for him to leave home alone, especially on those days where he’s stuck late at a job. He was barely scraping by as it was and couldn’t really afford the cost of after school programs. Perhaps…
“JB, ya think your daughter would mind watching Sarah during the week while she’s home. Drop off and pick up from school and keeping her company ‘til I get home from work? I could pay her – it wouldn’t be much, but better than nothin’, I imagine.” He watched Sarah’s eyes light up at the suggestion and knew it was a good choice.
“I’m sure she’d love to. She wasn’t planning on finding a real job until after the holidays, so I know she’ll be free during the day,” your dad replied. “I’ll talk to her about it on the ride back from the airport and let you know.”
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Three suitcases and a carry-on bag. That’s all you had left from six and a half years of pursuing higher education in North Carolina. You sold or gave away anything that did not fit into your luggage or hold sentimental value of your time away. Now, you were moving back home to save some money before you had to start chipping away at the mountain of student loan debt you accrued.
You loved learning, always have, but you were relieved to be done with school. Equipped with a bachelor’s degree in earth sciences and a master’s in education, you felt like a real adult ready to take the world of middle school by storm… well, starting after the new year, maybe. For now, you needed several months of limited to no responsibility to recoup your mental and physical energy. That last couple years of school really burned you out. Not to mention the last-minute rejection of a teaching position you thought was in the bag…
Anyway, you were better off leaving North Carolina behind and returning to Austin. You missed your dad something fierce and his particular brand of caring for you was exactly what your weary soul needed. It was you and him against the world, just like when you were a kid.
You flight was smooth and uneventful, yet you were relieved to deboard the plane. Something about being stuck in a tin can at the mercy of someone else’s ability to keep the thing from plummeting to the ground really aggravated your anxiety. Flying was something you would never enjoy; it was merely a means to an end when you wanted to travel long distances.
The journey to baggage claim was a slog with the crowd of passengers all heading to the same place. You were wondering how you’d wrangle three large suitcases by yourself when you caught sight of your dad. His broad smile took over his face when he spotted you, rushing over to sweep you up in a big bear hug.
“Hey Spud, how was the flight?” he asked as you waited for the baggage carousel to begin moving. “Looks like it was a full plane.”
“It was, but the flight was good. I’m really glad to be home.”
“Me, too, kid.”
You settled into a comfortable silence, watching various pieces of luggage pass by on the carousel. Your bags were scattered, and you had to wait several cycles to get all of them. Your dad lugged the final suitcase over the carousel with a grunt. “Jesus, what you got in this one? Bricks? A body?”
“That one has my gaming system and half a closet full of clothes,” you replied with a laugh.
Before long, everything was loaded into your dad’s truck, and you were heading back towards town. The radio hummed at a low volume as you both chatted about everything and nothing all at once.
“Hey, so I know you said you weren’t looking for full-time work until after the new year, but I have a proposition for you.” Your dad’s eyes stayed focused on the road, and you merely quirked a brow waiting for him to continue. “My buddy Joel – you know the one I told you about? Well, his daughter is ten and he needs some help with the school run and after school care. Our work hours aren’t exactly the same as elementary school, you know?”
You nodded, remembering all the times your dad spoke to you about Joel, as well as his daughter and brother. Despite never meeting them, you felt like you already knew their whole life story. “So, he’s looking for a nanny or something? I could do that. It would keep me from getting lazy while I navigate getting my Texas teaching certificate.”
Your dad grinned, one hand patting your leg. “I was hoping you’d say that. Joel will pay you, of course, but just… don’t expect much. It ain’t easy for him being a single dad trying to keep everything afloat.”
Again, you nodded, a soft smile creasing your lips. You knew all too well how challenging it could be for single parents, having grown up with just you and your dad. Much like what your dad told you about Joel’s experience with the mother of his child, your mom split when you were barely a toddler. Things weren’t always sunshine and roses, but your dad sure did his best to make sure you had a great life. Honestly, you wouldn’t trade it for the world, that life with your dad. You had a feeling it was much the same for Joel and his daughter.
“I’m happy to help, even if he doesn’t pay me. I’m sure his daughter will enjoy having a female influence in her life if nothing else. What’s her name again? Sarah?”
Your dad’s eyes twinkled with pride. “Yup, that’s it. I’m proud of the woman you’ve become, Spud.”
A mist of tears prickled your eyes as you mumbled out a “Thanks, dad.” After a beat, you added, “Must you keep up with that nickname?”
“Of course. You’ll always be my little Spud,” he laughed as you rolled your eyes. “Oh, by the way, we’re going to the Millers on Saturday for your welcome home party.”
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“What’s all this?” Joel questioned as Tommy and Sarah placed a heavy, wrapped package on the table before him along with a few smaller presents. The remains of a birthday cake sat nearby, having been delightfully devoured by the Millers while celebrating Joel’s birthday.
“Just a little somethin’ from me and Sarah,” Tommy replied, a boyish grin alighting his handsome features.
Joel gazed between them with curiosity. Not big on celebrating his own aging, he rarely got big gifts. “You wanna help me open this, nugget?” Sarah’s eyes lit up, small hands reaching to tear the wrapping paper into shreds. It only took a few moments for the contents to be revealed, leaving Joel confused at the modern contraption sitting in front of him. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“You play video games on it, dumbass.” Tommy harumphed as he began a diatribe on the features of the gaming system – he had one just like it at his place and it provided hours of entertainment when he didn’t feel like going out. “I figured it would be a good hobby for you since you never want to join me in going out.”
“Huh,” Joel grunted in return, brows furrowed as he read the instructions on how to setup up the machine. His attention was diverted by Sarah shoving the smaller parcels into his lap.
“Here, dad! These go with it.” Together, they tore into the wrapping paper to find several video games, a few of which were family friendly. The final gift was a spare controller for the gaming system so he and Sarah could play together.
Despite still being unsure that the gift was a good fit for him, Joel was grateful to Tommy for the effort. “This is too much, man. You shouldn’t spend this kind of money on me, Tommy.”
His brother waved him off. “I found a great deal and you never get anything for yourself, brother. You deserve something to indulge in. Believe me, you’ll have fun with this.”
The rest of the evening was spent with Tommy setting up the system and showing the father-daughter duo how to play some of the games he picked out. The living room filled with lots of laughter and teasing, and Joel found himself really getting into the fun of the video games.
After tucking Sarah into bed, Tommy showed Joel a game that was too violent for the little girl but entertaining for the men. The game was set in Washington DC which had been ravaged by a brutal pandemic and the main character was part of a group of agents fighting off nefarious gangs trying to take over the city. Joel caught onto the gameplay quickly and the two men found themselves building the loadout for Joel’s character, taking out bad guys, and chatting well into the night.
At two in the morning, the pair looked at each other with bleary, red-rimmed eyes and finally called it a night. Joel directed Tommy to crash in the spare room as he shuffled off to bed upstairs.
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It didn’t take you long to get settled into your dad’s house. It wasn’t the home you grew up in and you only visited a few times after he bought it. After years living away on your own, you thought it would be an adjustment being under his roof again, but it wasn’t. He understood the need for personal space and never hovered unless you were hurt or sick. He gave you the downstairs bedroom – it was the largest in the house, with an ensuite bath and huge walk-in closet.
“Dad, no! Why in the world is this not your room?” you questioned when he placed your bags on the brand-new, king size bed he had delivered the week prior.
“Hell no, Spud. What do I need all this space for? I like the upstairs rooms better – the light is all wrong in this one anyway.”
You looked around, holding in a giggle. The room faced south, giving you just the right amount of natural light all day. That’s what your dad didn’t like. He preferred to live like a bat in a cave with blackout curtains and limited lighting.
“Alright, well, I love it. The natural light is perfect for me. I can actually put some plants on the windowsills. Thank you!” You kissed his cheek as he left you to get settled.
You spent the week rearranging the bedroom how you wanted it, setting up your gaming system, and putting all your clothes into the walk-in closet. Your dad hadn’t done much with the room other than furnish it, so you made a few trips to the store to get a bathroom set, floor lamps, and wall décor to make the room your own.
Before you knew it, Saturday morning dawned bright and warm. The day of your welcome home gathering arrived, and you would finally get to meet the Millers. An excited energy had you moving about your space in a flurry, tidying up and getting ready early. You’d seen some photos of the Millers that your dad sent you – Sarah was adorable with her dark, springy curls, and Joel… Joel was handsome, in a broody, overworked kind of way, with dark, riotous curls and big, warm chocolate eyes. Kind eyes, you called them.
“Hey Spud, you ready?” your dad called from the kitchen as you put the finishing touches on your hair. It was pinned up, leaving the smooth skin of your neck bare. The sundress you picked hugged your curves in just the right way, falling just at your knees in a flow of lightweight material. In early October, Austin was still hot, and you hoped the Millers’ yard was shaded.
“Bring a swimsuit! They have a pool!” he yelled as you grabbed the last of your things. Turning back to your closet, you grabbed a dark green one-piece suitable for family-friendly swimming and tucked it into your bag.
“I’m ready!”
Your dad smiled at the sight of you. “Let’s go then. We’re heading over early so you can officially meet the Millers and we’ll help them setup before everyone else arrives.”
“Sounds good. Who all’s coming anyway?” Your eyes widened as your dad rattled off a list of people he invited, including his work buddies and some of his and Joel’s neighbors. He would have invited some of your old friends from high school, but you all lost touch over the years. The party was turning out bigger than you thought. Your heart swelled with how happy your dad was to have you home for good.
The Millers lived in the same neighborhood, only a few blocks away, so close you could have walked if not for the scorching sun. The drive took only a few minutes before your dad pulled into the driveway of a two-story home similar to your dad’s, with simple landscaping and two wooden rocking chairs on the wide porch. Lovely and quaint, the house made you more curious about the people who lived there.
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“Dayum! Get a load a JB’s daughter, Joel,” Tommy called from the living room, leaning over the couch to look out the front window. “She’s smokin’ hot!”
“Dammit, Tommy. Stop spying on ‘em,” Joel growled, sneaking a peek over his brother’s shoulder to do a little hypocritical spying of his own. Breath caught in his throat at the sight of you and he couldn’t break his gaze away, even as JB led you toward the front door.
“What was that about spyin’, brother?” Tommy teased, practically dragging Joel away from the window as a knock sounded against the door. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it.”
Tommy opened the heavy wooden door revealing the pair of you standing there, matching bright eyes and wide grins greeting him. “Well, hello there, beautiful. I’m Tommy.” Reaching a hand toward you, Tommy completely ignored JB, who just scowled at him.
“Nice to meet you, Tommy,” you replied, offering him your hand and name in return. Joel’s scowl matched your dad’s expression as Tommy held your hand for several beats too long.
“Back off, Tommy,” your dad grunted, swatting at the younger Miller brother. “This here is Tommy’s brother, Joel. The one who actually owns this house and the better Miller, if you ask me.”
“Ain’t no one askin’ you, old man,” Tommy’s smart mouth shot back at your dad.
Joel ignored both men, eyes like dark pools as he gazed at you, awed at how small and delicate your hand felt in his. “Howdy, darlin’,” his voice rumbled from his chest. “Come on in. There’s someone else lookin’ forward to meeting you.”
Leading the way through the kitchen into the backyard, Joel felt the heat of your gaze burning his back. Were you checking him out? There was no way. You were beautiful and likely in your early twenties. He felt ancient, though he was only in his early thirties, the hard labor of construction work having taken its toll on him.
“Hi Dad!” a young, sweet voice called from a small swing set where a precious little girl entertained herself. “Who’s this?”
Joel introduced you to his daughter, leaving the two of you to get acquainted as your dad called him away.
“You were away at college?” Sarah questioned, motioning for you to take a seat on the swing next to hers.
“I was,” you replied. “But I’m back for good now.”
“That’s good. What grade did you get to? I’m in fourth grade.”
You thought about it a moment. “I guess it would be 18th grade. But you stop counting grade numbers after 12th and start using different words to describe what year you’re in during college.”
Sarah listened raptly while you explained the different terms, what you studied in school, and what kind of job you were hoping to get.
“You want to be a teacher?” she asked, awed.
“I do! I want to teach middle grade science.”
“I love science! Maybe you could be my teacher when I get to sixth grade!”
Joel returned with your dad and Tommy in tow to find you and Sarah having a blast. The little girl sat in your lap as you kicked your feet out, swinging as high as you could, singing some camp song you remembered from your youth.
“See? Told ya she’d love to spend time with Sarah,” your dad said to Joel. He couldn’t tear his gaze away, staring at the two of you with a glazed look in his dark eyes.
Shaking himself off, Joel turned to your dad. “Guess I better work out some details with her.” He stepped over to the swing set, taking a seat on the empty swing and hoping to the heavens above that it held his weight. He struggled internally on how to start the conversation and was just about to blurt something out when his amazing daughter saved the day.
“Dad! She wants to be a teacher! A science teacher! Isn’t that cool? Did you ask her about watching me yet? I think she’d love to.” Sarah rambled on excitedly, amusing you and Joel. Turning to you before Joel could chime in, Sarah turned to you with baby cow eyes, adding, “You would love to, right?”
How could you ever resist that look? No one could. Both you and Joel were powerless as you nodded, and the offer became official. Cell numbers were exchanged and before you knew it, you had a job starting Monday.
Hours later, slightly drunk on spiked fruit punch and buzzing with energy, you thanked Joel for hosting the barbecue and giving you a job. You kissed his stubbled cheek, forcing thoughts of how attractive he was as far down as they could go. You could not develop a crush on your boss. “I’ll see you Monday morning, bright and early!” you declared before following your dad through the front door.
TBC
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The Babysitter Masterlist
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Summary: In need of money and a way to escape the problems at home, you get a job babysitting two lovely boys named Billy and Tommy Maximoff. What happens when you start to feel things you shouldn't for their mother? Will it bloom into love or leave you heartbroken?
A/N- I would just like to say that there will be some sensitive issues in this story such as alcoholism, homophobia, anxiety as well as more mature content such as smut so, if you continue to read this, please consider this warning.
Ongoing. Word Count- 158k
Chapters:
1- Meeting the Maximoffs
2- Cookies and Cuteness
3- Falling Asleep On The Job
4- Parks and Puppies
5- Blame
6- Catching A Liar
7- Taking Care
8- Birthday Wishes
9- Shot In The Back
10- A Moment Of Weakness
11- Kiss Me
12- Like A Date?
13- Let's Go Home
14- You're All I Want
15- I Want To Make You Feel Good.
16- A Way To De-Stress
17- Hesitance
18- I Love You
19- Hopelessly In Love
20- Is Someone Jealous?
21- Together?
22- I've Got You Detka
23- Welcome To The Family
24- The 'Talk'
25- Beach House Shenanigans
26- Best Birthday Ever
27- A New Toy
28- A Moment Together
29- I'm Going To Kill Him
30- Punishments
31- I'm Here
32- The Right Person
33- Talk To Me
34- Family Night
35- All I'll Ever Need
36- Surprise Trip
37- Meet Me In My Office
More Chapters to come :)
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rhenysz · 3 months
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Your Dead Eyes - Chapter 1
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Summary: Lifeless eyes were what haunted your all your life, many people say that death was lurking around your eyes, maybe it's true. Maybe you just see things that other people don't.
Pairing: Azriel x Archeron! reader fem.
A/n: This took longer than expected and isn't even half as long as I would have liked, but I've finally finished the first book and let's get to the real story! Thank you for the positive feedback 🙌🏻 This chapter was more about the sisters' bond, the next ones will be different. I think the Reader has an emotional dependence on Feyre 😥
*English is NOT my native language, this fanfic was translated with the help of an AI, any grammatical errors please let me know*
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: Scars, family abandonment, mentioned death.
previous x next
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"Do you not think you're exaggerating?" Elain asked you with forced gentleness. The sound of her sipping tea tickled your ears. Dropping your own teacup on the living room's coffee table – causing some splashes to stain the surface – you placed a hand on your chest in mock indignation, perhaps not entirely fake.
"I'd rather be thrown to the wolves than face the conjugal bed, and I must say I'm terrified of those animals." Your lips curled downward, "Men, in this case."
Elain's eyes crinkled at the corners, and the curve of her lips lifted even as she tried to dispel the amusement she felt.
"I understand. But maybe you should consider, I bet Feyre would return in time for your wedding." She spoke with her eyes lowered to the tea.
No, she wouldn't return. You wanted to shout out to Elain. Hardly would that beast willingly let your sister go, that is if she wasn't already in the belly of those faeries.
"I have no interest in getting married, sister. And who in their right mind would be interested in someone with my condition?" Your voice was soft, not a hint of resentment showing in your features.
Having a man in your life was not something you desired. They were rough, lazy, and smelled bad. Not even the twisted relationship Feyre had with that man could make you want one too.
"Maybe... you just haven't looked in the right place," Elain commented. Looked? Have holy patience. You were hardly going to look at anything, let alone a man. Realizing her bluntness, Elain widened her eyes towards you, "I didn't mean it that way, sister, it was just a figure of speech—"
Your laughter cut off Elain's awkward attempt to apologize. Your shoulders shook with the intensity of your laughter. Elain sighed in relief and awkwardly joined in.
Feyre didn't treat you as if you were about to burst into tears.
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After that interesting conversation with Elain, Nesta barged into the room, interrupting – rather rudely – to announce that a luxurious carriage was approaching.
You could hear the rustle of Elain's skirts as she tried to beautify herself even more. Despite Nesta feigning an indifferent facade, she was also discreetly arranging her hair.
Laughing to yourself, you wondered how you must look in your supposed light blue dress. A hand grabbed your arm and gently lifted you from the sofa. Nesta, you could tell the difference. Elain had rougher hands from gardening, and Nesta's hands were colder.
"Let's go. Can you manage on your own?" Nesta asked. You appreciated that she allowed you to have your own autonomy. Nodding, you reached for the edge of the sofa where your cane rested and grabbed it.
When you heard the door opening, your head turned towards the sound and you went, dragging the golden tip of the cane across the floor, which hit the furniture warning you to dodge, and slowly going after your sisters – who were walking significantly slower to wait for you.
His cane hit the front door step. Carefully, you placed your foot in front to descend. The breeze made your hair flutter, and it felt so good; the wind kissed your skin like a longing lover.
"Welcome to our home... Lady." You heard Nesta as you finally caught up with your sisters. A brief moment of silence followed, soon to be cut by an extremely familiar laughter
.Your heart raced, and your free hand crumpled the dress you were wearing. Your lifeless eyes turned, trying to find the source of the voice.
"Nesta," she laughed, "doesn't recognize her own sister?" The air was expelled from your lungs, Feyre. A burning sensation started in your eyes, and without you realizing, fat tears streamed down your flushed cheeks. No matter how or where, you would always, always recognize your sister's voice.
The crunching of dried leaves alerted you that someone was approaching, a calm breath was blown on your face. Your trembling lips also parted as you tried to find the right words. Nothing came to mind; it was as if your brain had turned to jelly.
"My snowflake..." Feyre stepped forward, using her fingers to wipe away your tears. She missed you so much while she was with Tamlin. Her chest weighed every time she thought of you, her dearest sister.
Closing your eyes tightly, you let out a sob and threw yourself into Feyre's arms. Discarding the cane without care, your hands reached the back of your sister, pulling her into a tight and emotional embrace.
Feyre staggered under your weight and laughed. She laughed as she nestled in your arms and continued to laugh even as she felt Nesta's eyes drilling holes into her head.
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You couldn't physically move away from Feyre while your sisters talked with her. Your hand clung to hers in the hope that if you held on tight enough, she wouldn't leave again.
But not even all the happiness you were feeling could make you ignore Feyre's excuse. Taking care of Aunt Ripleigh? You distinctly remembered that it wasn't Aunt Ripleigh who tore the door off the old cabin.
As expected, Nesta was cautious, hovering over you and Elain as if Feyre would reveal her true intentions at any moment. She declined Elain's invitation to go to the garden, seeing Feyre there made her physically sick, so she withdrew to avoid conflicts in front of her sisters.
You were focused on Feyre and Elain's conversation, desperately wanting her to talk about what happened.
Feyre tensed when Elain casually mentioned – distracted by the flowers – that Nesta visited her at Aunt Ripleigh's. Another lie.
You felt Feyre's breath near your face: "How have you been?"
Fine. You were fine, but not well enough to disguise the suspicion in your expression. Feyre quickly noticed and stepped back slightly.
"Why are you lying to us?" You were direct, no more beating around the bush. You needed answers, and not even Elain's presence would distract you from your goal.
Feyre widened her eyes toward Elain and was relieved to see that she was far enough away not to hear. Biting her lips, she grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward the exit, giving a brief goodbye to Elain, who was so fascinated by the new petunia seedlings that she didn't care.
You were guided through a few doors until you reached a room that Feyre considered safe from curious ears.
You crossed your arms over your chest and impatiently waited for Feyre, who ran her hand through her hair and sighed, not knowing where to start. Then she decided to start with the worst.
"I– I'm in love with the High Lord of Prythian."
If you weren't already blind, you could swear your vision blurred at that moment.
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And then Feyre told you, told about how the other side of the wall was breathtaking, told about the peculiar creatures that existed there, told about her frenemy Lucien, and told about how she fell in love with the beast that turned out to be so loving to her.
And to your dismay, she detailed the night of passion she had before being – gently – sent home.
"I didn't need to know that. I have a vivid imagination, and I hate myself for it." You spoke with disgust; Feyre chuckled and approached you, taking your hand and bringing it to her face.
"I haven't told you everything," you murmured for her to continue. Your fingers traced the contours of her face. She looked so different but at the same time so familiar. Perhaps she had become healthy.
"There was a male who threatened Tamlin, he was handsome, maybe the most beautiful male I've ever seen," she commented absentmindedly, "he asked for my name... Clare Beddor."
Clare Beddor, the name weighed on your tongue. Clare, your former neighbor who was killed in such a horrendous way that no one could bear to look for too long, according to your gossip source – Elain.
Feyre had given a false name to the fairy assassin. And you could swear she didn't know what had happened to that poor girl. And perhaps you weren't the most suitable person to tell her about the event; Feyre seemed happy sharing her new experiences. And you? You would allow yourself to be selfish for a moment.
"I understand."
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Your sisters and your father went to the seasonal ball, and despite Elain's insistence, that wasn't your place. Your place was anywhere as long as it was far from high society. You certainly didn't fit the standards imposed by them, even though those who looked at you were dazzled.
"A beauty never seen before."
"I would die for features as delicate as yours."
"It's truly a shame…"
Feyre promised to come back early, just like you; she didn't like crowds and pompous people. Feyre promised to come back early.
So you did the only thing that was possible – you waited. Waited while eating, waited while talking to some servants, waited while invading Elain's garden, and waited until you got tired and chose the living room sofa as a great place to rest.
Inevitably, your eyes began to weigh, and before you realized it, sleep completely took you, plunging you into a deep state of peace, unable to hear the hurried steps through the house and the slam of the door closing.
Feyre promised to come back early.
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Feyre hated goodbyes.
Perhaps, just perhaps, you should have already imagined that this would happen. Feyre was in love with the beast, and people in love tend to do foolish things.
That didn't ease the chest pain you felt when the next morning you were informed that she had returned to the fae lands in search of her High Lord. The feelings of betrayal and sadness walked hand in hand.
At the same time, you couldn't find the strength to harbor resentment towards her. Why would you? For the first time in her life, your sister was dedicating herself to something that truly made her happy. It didn't matter if she was leaving her family behind, right? No, that mattered to you.
Nesta hated dealing with your whirlwind of emotions; she hated that you depended on someone to be happy, and she made it clear when you woke up.
"Feyre is not responsible for what you feel. You are allowing yourself to stay in this state. Stop depending on her to live."
Despite being harsh, Nesta was spot-on with her words. Feyre was finally living her dream life; it was time for you to start living yours too, without anyone dictating how you should feel.
And thinking about this led you to where you were now, with your hands covered in clay – and probably not just your hands – trying to give some shape to that earthy mass on the spinning table in the studio.
Your mind wandered through all the possibilities of sculpture. Sculpting things your fingers had memorized or even inventing new forms to call conceptual. It would be ironic if your sculptures became famous.
Humming to yourself, your fingers gently moved over the clay's edges, shaping a small sphere; you pulled five points out and rounded the edges.
"They look like fingers." Merina's voice made you jump on the stool; Merina was one of the maids you had become close to, she had such a calm and gentle voice that, if you let her, could lull you to sleep.
"Well, I hope so. I'd be very upset if they looked like something else." You laughed, still molding your supposed fingers. Merina dragged a stool to join you, after, of course, looking down the hall to make sure no one was approaching.
She looked amazed at your hands giving life to the clay. Inevitably, her mind wandered, how? How were you capable? Feeling where your mind wandered, you chuckled softly and tilted your head in a silent invitation. Merina cleared her throat and asked:
"Why a hand?"
You subtly widened your eyes; that certainly wasn't the question you were expecting. A hum came from your throat before you answered Merina.
"It's with my hands that I see; they are my eyes to the world," you replied, licking your lips as you pondered, "I don't know how I manage it; I fear there's no logical explanation for it."
Merina didn't say anything, just grunted in response. Extending your hand, you searched the table until you found a small knife; bringing it close to the sculpture, you began making small fillets with it all along the hand's length.
Merina turned to you curiously, not understanding why you were deforming the piece. She gently nudged you with a – painfully pointed – question.
"Hmm, I've been thinking about it lately, hands with scars," you made one final cut and dropped the knife. Merina reached for an old cloth to help you clean your hands, "thank you. What would it be like to see with these hands? Would the texture of things be different? Or would the sensitivity be greater?" You rambled to her.
There were so many questions to consider, and in your opinion, you could already be considered a hands expert. That made you laugh.
Merina took the cloth from your hands and brought it toward your face, cleaning some clay splatters that had strayed there.
"I hope you don't have the answers on your own. It must be a horrible pain to have your hands torn apart." She commented, lowering the cloth.
A horrible pain? Makes sense. Whoever has hands like that must have a melancholic story behind them.
"You're right."
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As promised, you lived your life the best way possible, and sculptures paved the way to your heart. Over time, your clay skills became refined, even daring to sculpt the features of your sisters; Nesta was your biggest supporter, even if she didn't admit it, there wasn't a day she didn't pass by to make sure your stock was full.
Each sister had their own shelf containing everything you thought resembled them. Elain had sculpted flowers and cakes, Nesta had books and red jewels, and Feyre had an arrow – just a sculpture, but it was the one you dedicated the most time to, whether smoothing the edges or trying to paint in the right places.
Because even though Feyre was a million miles away, you would love her all the way, and even if she never came back, you would find your way to her through the heart.
You wouldn't wait for her, but you wouldn't forget everything you had been through together.
And you might not even believe she would come back, but that tingling you felt in your fingers when you heard a knock on the door made you doubt your mental state.
It may be that besides being blind, you're also becoming deaf because hearing your sister's name from Elain's lips after so long is not a sign of good auditory nostalgia.
"Feyre?"
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TAGLIST:
@dearestdaffodils @going-through-shit
@valeridarkness @wallacewillow0773638
@harrystylesfan2686 @carnationworld
@applerubyy @saltedcoffeescotch
@esposadomd @justdreamstars
@microwaveallthedemons
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justagalwhowrites · 8 months
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Yearling - Tumblr Master List
Yearling: noun - A young horse, older than a foal but not yet two years old. - A still wild thing that is too new to tame
After years of surviving in the wilds of Wyoming after the cordyceps outbreak, you find yourself in Jackson. It's a town filled with friendly faces and the kind of world you hardly remember, let alone can connect with or understand. But one man - Joel Miller, another loner, like you - makes you think that trying to find your place in society again might be worth it.
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On A03 | Spotify Playlist
WARNING: this fic does have plot overlap with TLOU2. It’s not a retelling of the game but if you want to go into season 2 spoiler free, approach with caution.
Chapter 1 - Break
Chapter 2 - Escape
Chapter 3 - Noise
Chapter 4 - Contribution
Chapter 5 - Movement
Chapter 6 - Shoot
Chapter 7 - Revival
Chapter 8 - Tipsy
Chapter 9 - Hold
Chapter 10 - Feral
Chapter 11 - Touch
Chapter 12 - Animals
Chapter 13 - Falling
Chapter 14 - Time
Chapter 15 - Past
Chapter 16 - Firsts
Chapter 17 - Stay
Chapter 18 - Reverse
Chapter 19 - Purpose
Chapter 20 - Healing
Chapter 21 - Holiday
Chapter 22 - Storm
Chapter 23 - Search
Chapter 24 - Return
Chapter 25 - Balance
Chapter 26 - Carved
Chapter 27 - Found
Chapter 28 - Newcomer
Chapter 29 - Together
Chapter 30 - Blood
Chapter 31 - Warmth
Chapter 32 - Promises
Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass @planet-marz1 @kalea-bane @juneswonderlust @ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost @beccerjune @mumma-moonchild @netonetoneto @mellymbee @purplelye @n7cje @flugazi @evyiione @randomhoex @aliengirl99 @orcasoul @reds-ramblings @pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel @jenispunk @panda-pascal @sarap-77 @flugazi @your-slutty-gf @daniegraceg @partyofone3413 @cumberpegg @noisynightmarepoetry. @fifia-writes @grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123 @ashleyfilm
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hoomandoescosplay · 26 days
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Broken Radio | Alastor x Reader
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
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jellibean2018 · 2 months
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You Belong to Me Part 2. (Sneak Peek!!)
Authors note: So, writing part two is taking a bit longer than I expected it too so I will add this as a little inside to what the next chapter will hold. Just to let y'all know I am still writing it and I still intend on posting the next part. I know this sneak peek is small but this chapter is looking to be about 4k words so please enjoy this little sneak peak! Part 1
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Crickets and cicadas' sweet melodies filled the ambience of the forest. You watched as fireflies floated with the summer air. How the leaves in the trees danced to the summer breeze. You laid in a soft, warm bed of grass staring at the dusking sky. The clouds were painted vibrant colors of red, orange and lighter shades of pink. Specks of white started to slowly decorate the evening sky. You were humming the song that made you fall in love with romance, “La Vie En Rose''. You watched the sky fade to black, like the final curtain falling on the most magnificent performance. 
‘Quand il me prend dans ses bras. Qu’il me parle l'a tout bas. Je vois la vie en rose’ (When he takes me into his arms. He speaks to me softly. And I see life through rose-colored glasses)
You could feel a presence beside you, lying with you in the tall soft grass. You felt no fear in this moment, all you could feel was a sense of peace. Soon enough the humming had morphed into a voice physically singing it. It wasn't yours but my god, was it heavenly. You hummed along to the heartwarming lyrics.
‘Il me dit des mots d'amour. Des mots de tous les jours. Et ça m'fait quelque chose’ (He speaks words of love to me. They are everyday words and they do something to me)
It was a voice you vaguely recognized, why couldn't you remember? You wanted to turn your head but you couldn’t, your whole body was relaxed in the grass. You felt safe but that awful feeling that something was wrong was growing by the second.
‘Il est entré dans mon cœur. Une part de bonheur.̴ D̸o̵n̴t̷ ̴j̶e̶ ̸c̴o̶n̴n̷a̸i̶s̸ ̵l̸a̵ ̶c̴a̵u̷s̷e̴’ (He has entered into my heart. A bit of happiness. T̸h̶a̴t̷ ̶I̵ ̷k̸n̵o̵w̵ ̴t̸h̵e̴ ̷c̵a̷u̷s̷e̴ ̸o̴f̷)
  The beautiful song started to distort, suddenly black tentacles sprouted from the ground latching onto your legs and arms. Holding you to the now cold dark earth.
‘Ȼ'ēꞩⱦ łᵾī ꝑꝋᵾɍ ᵯꝋī. ᛗꝋī ꝑꝋᵾɍ łᵾī đⱥꞥꞩ łⱥ ꝟīē. Īł ᵯē ł'ⱥ đīⱦ, ł'ⱥ ɉᵾɍē ꝑꝋᵾɍ łⱥ ꝟīē’ (ł₮'₴ Ø₦ⱠɎ Ⱨł₥ ₣ØⱤ ₥Ɇ. ₳₦Đ ₥Ɇ ₣ØⱤ Ⱨł₥, ₣ØⱤ Ⱡł₣Ɇ. ⱧɆ ₮ØⱠĐ ₥Ɇ, ⱧɆ ₴₩ØⱤɆ ₮Ø ₥Ɇ, ₣ØⱤ Ⱡł₣Ɇ)
The tentacles started to drag you slowly into the earth, you fought against the restraints but were losing horribly. Your heart beating harshly against your chest and your lungs started to panic by being swallowed by the earth. The beautiful dark sky painted with stars was now angry shades of red. The forest around you sets ablaze. Flames that climbed higher than the treeline. Tears streamed down your cheeks and the last thing you saw before the earth swallowed you forever, was a red haired man, with a soul wrenching smile.
‘Ɇⱦ, đēꞩ ꝗᵾē ɉē ł'ⱥꝑēɍȼꝋīꞩ. Ⱥłꝋɍꞩ ɉē ꞩēꞥꞩ ēꞥ ᵯꝋī. ᛗꝋꞥ ȼꝋēᵾɍ ꝗᵾī ƀⱥⱦ.’ (Ⱥꞩ ꞩꝋꝋꞥ ⱥꞩ Ī ꞥꝋⱦīȼē ħīᵯ. Ī ӻēēł īꞥꞩīđē ᵯē. ᛗɏ ħēⱥɍⱦ ƀēⱥⱦīꞥꞡ) 
・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆
You stared into the porcelain cup holding a cold cup of jasmine tea. Dazed and in deep thought. Rosie had invited you out this morning to have tea at her favorite shop in the colony, she was chatting with the owner and you didn’t mind. You didn’t dream much in your life, you always wondered what nightmares were like. Ever since your attack, shit since you’ve been down here, they have been a nightly routine but last night was… different. It felt like a warning of some kind. It was, without any mistake, Rosie’s friend you had met a week earlier. Alastor, you had found out through Rosie he was also an overlord as well. The Radio Demon he was called. You’ve asked around town, and the only ones who were willing to talk about him were the children. The gist of what they said was that he was not a demon to be messed with. You’re just happy that you were under Rosie’s wing. It seems she is the only Overlord he interacts with. You best stay out of his way.
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Tag List!
@chewbrry , @reverse-soe , @itsmskeisha , @mcrtrashfan, @eviebuggg , @gerardwayswhore , @danveration , @bumblebeebluebell , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @sleepykittycx , @lovingyeet , @ashleymwasblog ,
If there's anyone I forgot I'm sorry for some reason it wouldn't let me add you but I'll try to tag in the comments!!
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ponyosmom35 · 5 months
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day out with the boys
Simon Ghost Riley x reader
Liability chapter eleven!
synopsis: reader and the boys go out as they show her around London!
warnings: drinking, cursing, fighting
Liability masterlist
https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share
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She was nervous as she tied her hair in a half-up, half-down style. Her long waves cascade down her back and she tries to smooth them out nervously. She had dressed in tights with a short skirt and a sweater, she had a jacket on overtop to pull it all together. She had on her favorite pair of platform docs which gave her an additional two inches. She smiled at herself, it had been so long since she’d dressed in anything other than scrubs, or a military-provided uniform which was less than flattering on her body. 
Johnny and Kyle asked if she wanted a tour of London, she agreed without hesitation. She’d been wanting to explore since she’d arrived. After getting permission from Price, who had far too much paperwork to join their day off they went to Simon. When Johnny asked he received an immediate no. She was quite upset when she found out he didn’t want to come, and took it upon herself to convince him. As much as she loved the other two, something about Simon pulled her in. She wanted to be near him at all times, hoping that she could learn something about him. He was such a mystery and she was determined to figure him out. 
She texted Johnny and informed him that she was nearly ready, and would meet him outside in a few. She sprays her favorite perfume, the classic ‘Cloud’ by Ariana Grande and leaves her room. She hurries to Simon’s office and knocks on the door gently. 
“Come in” his deep voice calls 
She opens it and peaks her head inside and greets him with a smile. “hey” 
“Come in love” he says
her breath hitches at the nickname, he'd never referred to her as that before. It was typically just her name, or nothing at all. She was regularly called it with most of the people on the base, especially Price, Soap, and Gaz, but never ever had Simon said it. The name gave her butterflies.
He watches her open the door all the way and all the breath is knocked from his lungs. His eyes rack down her body and his chest tightens. He’d never seen her dressed in civilian clothes before. It was rare that she didn’t have her hair pulled back into a bun or updo. She looked absolutely stunning. 
“Going somewhere?” he asks
“Yeah Johnny and Kyle are gonna give me a tour of London, I was wondering if you wanted to join seeing as Johnny's not...” she trails off awkwardly
“I’ve got a lot of paperwork” he says, 
“Oh come on! I’ve been waiting for the perfect time to explore since I got here!”
“Sorry love” he responds, there goes her heart racing at that nickname again.
“Okay well at least tell me your favorite pub and I’ll make sure to add it to the list, the boys have at least three places in mind already” she says, his heart racing as he imagines her in a pub. All of the filthy men staring at her, he knew she’d be eaten up if they heard her speak and found out she was American. Simon knew that she was completely safe with his teammates, but he refused to take any chances, not with her. 
“Okay, I’ll join” he responds, causing her eyes to widen, she claps her hands happily as he stands and closes his laptop. 
“What made you change your mind?” she asks with a big smile on her face
“Guess I could use a day off” he lies 
“Okay well the boys are waiting outside” she says 
“I’ll be out in five” 
“Okay” she says happily before hurrying outside. As soon as Johnny spots her he raises his hands in annoyance.
“Fuckin’ hell lass you sure take your time, but I can see why” Johnny says looking at her “you look nice”
“Shut up suds” she laughs, hitting his arm
“Are you ready to go?” Kyle asks 
“Just waiting on Simon” she says, watching as their faces drop in shock. Not only had she somehow learned his name, which he never gave out to anyone, but she’d also convinced him to come. 
“You know his name?” Kyle asks “he told you that willingly?”
“Well more like showed it to me, doesn’t matter now” she shrugs 
“You’re a real fuckin sorcerer love” Johnny murmurs 
“Whose driving?” 
“Definitely not LT” Johnny comments as he gets into the driver’s seat, Kyle offers the front to her and she shakes her head and gets into the back, she wanted to sit next to Simon. 
“I keep hearing that! He can’t be that bad” she defends 
“He’s the worst fuckin combat driver I’ve ever seen, scariest experience of my life” Kyle comments 
“Remember when he nearly threw me out the fuckin helicopter?” Johnny recalls, as they all laugh loudly. 
“Never driven with em’ on civi roads, maybe he ain’t that bad” Kyle says 
“I doubt it” Johnny says running his hand over his beanie. 
Johnny puts on some rap music and blasts it loudly, she rolls her eyes and looks to the right just as Simon opens the door. He sits and buckles, glancing over to her quickly before looking away. “Johnny what the fuck is this shit? Play something good at least” 
“Like what?” 
“Taylor Swift!” she exclaims 
“Fuck no!” Johnny says as he drives off of the base
“Absolutely not” Kyle responds 
“Simon? Thoughts on Taylor Swift?” she asks 
“She’s the most famous popstar in the world for a reason” he says staring out of the window. The two men in the front yell loudly in protest and make fun of him. “Shut the fuck up the lot of you! This is her day and if she wants to listen to Taylor you fuckin put on Taylor!”
“Only if it’s Reputation” Johnny sighs, she cackles as she reaches forward and pats his shoulder 
“I knew you were a closeted swifite” she says, making everyone laugh loudly. 
“Don’t make me turn this vehicle around ankle biter”
“Don’t test me suds” she snaps back, he looks at her in the rearview mirror and shakes his head, a smirk on his lips. 
She turns to the right and peers over at Simon, she hadn’t gotten a proper look at him since he got in the car. She instantly notices his jeans, and how massive his thighs were as he was manspreading in the back seat. He was wearing a thick black zip-up with a black hoodie underneath. His hands were ungloved and resting on his knee. She gulped and stared at them, it was the first time she had laid eyes on his massive hands. His fingers long and slender. As if noticing her stare he turns to her she nearly gasps in shock. He was wearing a normal facemask with a beanie on his head, still covering most of his face, but it was more than she’d ever seen. She sends him a small smile, trying to play it off like she hadn’t been staring at his neck. 
-
As they arrived in London the boys began to show her around, they took her to the main tourist destinations and she was amazed by it all. She took tons of photos of the scenery and a few with Johnny and Kyle, Simon of course politely refused and offered to take them. He took several of her in front of Big Ben, he smiled to himself at how adorable she was. 
Johnny was ecstatic to be off base, he was full of energy and was pulling her from shop to shop. She’d barely gotten to speak to Simon as he was like a kid in a candy store, quite literally pulling her into a candy store and buying all of his favorites which he planned on making her try later. She made sure to give him shit about being from Scotland and acting as her tour guide of London. Despite not being with Simon, she kept her eye on him. She watched how he interacted with the world. It was clear that he was not relaxed, he was surveying the area. He was watching their backs.  Of course, she noticed the other two doing the same occasionally, but Simon was scoping out alleyways, and checking shops out before he entered. He always made sure that she was in front of him, as Johnny walked by her side and Kyle led the way. She was being guarded, whether it was intentional or not, she was unsure. To an onlooker, it wouldn’t have been noticeable, but she saw it all. 
“Remember how I told you that once you earn LT’s respect there’s nothin he wouldn’t do for ya?” Johnny asks as he bumps her shoulder whilst they walked down the street casually. 
“Yeah”
“He’s watching you like a hawk” 
“I know” she says softly “I feel bad, I want him to have fun too”
“May not look it, but he’s having fun. Just can’t turn off the soldier in him, none of us can” he says as they pass by a jewelry shop. She pauses and looks at the displays in the window, Johnny smiles as he devises a plan and pats her on the back. “Gazzy and I are gonna go check out the market for snacks, meet you over there when you’re done” he says before walking away. 
She frowns and continues to look at them, she instantly feels a presence beside her and looks up to see Simon “Apparently they want snacks, I can meet you guys in just a second, I wanna check this store out” 
Simon doesn’t speak and instead opens the door for her, she blushes madly and hurries inside, the warmth welcomes her. She goes around to the necklace that had caught her eye in the window and looks at it. A simple clear quartz stone on a chain. She picks it up and admires it for several moments. Simon was next to her, looking at the various stones placed nicely along the tables. 
“A clear quartz, for protection” the shop owner says, the small older woman walks over to her with a warm smile. 
“Its beautiful” she confesses
“Fit for a beautiful young woman” the shop owner says
“Thank you” she laughs awkwardly
“Do let me know if you have any questions love” she says before returning back to her spot
“Are you gonna get it?” Simon asks 
“I want to, but Emma will lose her mind if I buy myself more jewelry” she laughs, Simon snorts and watches as she moves through the store. He picks up the necklace and waits for her to make it to the back. He hurries to the counter and purchases the necklace. 
“I was hoping you’d get this for that darling girl” the shop owner says softly 
“Thank you” he nods before putting the box in his pocket. 
He was able to conceal it before she noticed. Now it was getting dark, the boys were hungry and ready to hit up a pub. It didn’t take long to find one and the four of them sat down at a table. Johnny and Kyle were already down two pints and they’d only arrived 15 minutes prior. Simon sat with his back against the wall as he watched the people around them. 
“Why the fuck won’t you let me get you a drink?” Johnny asks 
“I told you, I’m not into beer, I’m a cocktail girl” she shrugs 
“Out of your fuckin mind lass” 
“What’s your drink of choice?” Kyle asks 
“Guess” she smirks 
“Malibu sunrise” Simon states, she turns to him eyes wide in shock
“That is very close, definitely one of my favorites”
“Sex on the beach” Johnny suggests 
“Another good one but no”
“I don’t know, a fuckin lemon drop?” Kyle asks
“Yes!” she exclaims as they laugh. 
The four of them chat for about an hour about London culture and the vibe, they explain how rowdy it gets when there’s a football game on. She listens happily and watches Johnny and Kyle drink a ton. The drunker they get, the harder they make her laugh. 
“Is it true that all gingers are born with no souls?” Johnny asks seriously 
“Is it true that Scottish men are required to wear kilts at all times?” she retorts sarcastically 
“Touche” he laughs, pointing his finger at her.
“Okay well I’m gonna go get water for us, does anybody want anything else?”
“Another pint!” Kyle shouts happily
“No” she laughs before walking up to the bar. She could practically feel Simon’s stare on her back as she pushed through the crowds. After ordering the water she leans against the bar, accidentally bumping shoulders with the guy next to her. “I’m sorry”
“No problem love, crowded in here” he smiles as he turns his entire body to face her, only mere inches between them. She sends him a polite smile and tries to scoot away, only to hit someone else on the other side. 
“Yes it is” she responds
“Wow not only are you beautiful but you’re American as well? Must be my lucky day” he comments, she laughs awkwardly and crosses her arms. 
Across the pub Simon noticed the man begin to talk to her, his friends behind him all looking at her like she was a piece of meat. He watched as her body shifted uncomfortably. He clenched his hand and kept a close eye, ready to get up.  
“Let me get ya a drink”
“I’m good” she refuses 
“Come on, can’t have a beautiful bird come to a pub without drinking” 
“I’m having a great time with my friends” she retorts 
“What friends? I don’t see any”
She turns and points to the three men in the corner, her eyes catching Simon’s instantly. She silently pleads for help and he’s on his feet in a second. “Oh here comes the big guy”
“This your boyfriend love?” he asks 
Simon doesn’t say a single word as he stands behind her, he sends them a death glare and they all turn back around. Mumbling amongst each other. Simon grabs the water and keeps his hand on her back as he guides her back, keeping himself between her and anyone else. As they return to the table she notices that Johnny and Kyle were over by the pool tables, setting up for a game. 
“Why aren’t you drinking?” she asks curiously as she settles back into her spot next to him. 
“Someone needs to drive back to base” 
“Maybe I should be the one to drive” she jokes
“Why is that love?”
“I’ve heard about your driving” she says
“What about it?” he asks
“Lets just say I’ve been warned never to let you drive me, or fly a helicopter” 
Simon laughs and runs his hand over his head, pushing the hood down and the beanie back slightly. She was able to catch a glimpse of blonde hair and smiles to herself. So Simon Riley was a fucking blonde. God she was so feral for this man. Even the slightest sight of his skin made her feel like a man in the 19th century, seeing ankles for the first time.
“That was one fucking time! I lost the right engine, I told that bastard to hold on” he defends as she giggles loudly. 
"everyone's survived, that's what matters right?"
"yeah for fucks sake"
“So tell me, why do you wear the mask in public? I get back at the base but why here?”
“can’t risk exposing my face” he deadpans
"wow riveting" she retorts “Do you wear it to sleep?” 
“Sometimes I forget to take it off” 
“Hmm, seems like it would be uncomfortable”
“Got used to it” he shrugs, both watch their friends start a new game of pool with a few others from the bar and she rolls her eyes. “You much of a pool player?”
“Yeah I’m terrible at it, but its fun. I’d rather sit with you though” she admits
Simon looks at her in surprise and tries to calm his racing heart. He was flustered by her words. “Are you any good?” she asks 
“Very”
“You’ll have to teach me sometime” she comments, lying through her teeth. She was a very good pool player, she’d only ever been beaten three times in her life. She loved to play that game, pretend that she sucked so she could hustle the fuck out of unsuspecting men. Plus she wanted any excuse she could find to spend time with him. 
“Stay here” Simon grunts out of nowhere, in an instant he’s across the bar and shoving a man off of Johnny and to the ground. She gets up and hurries over to them, pushing Johnny back as he yells profanities at them. Simon is punched in the face and he grunts, Johnny and Kyle instantly hold him back as he rushes forward along with several others trying to restrain the massive man. She dodges them and walks up to the man, kicking him in the balls, he doubles over and clutches himself and she punches him in the face, knocking him on his ass. The pub erupts in cheers as she holds her hand to her chest, pain radiating through it. She’d never punched somebody before. 
“Tell your fuckin bitch to calm down!” the man yells as he stands back up
Simon grabs her and pushes her behind him and punches the guy in the face once. He collapses roughly on the ground, completely unconscious. She holds her hand to her mouth in shock. He walks away from the scene and drags her back to their table. He takes one of the napkins and places a few ice cubes in it. He creates a makeshift icepack and gently puts it on her knuckles. He checks his shoulder to see Johnny and Kyle getting kicked out and sighs. 
“Are you okay love?”
“That was kinda exhilarating!” she admits 
“Shocked the hell out of me”
“I like to keep people on their toes” she jokes, smiling as he snorts. 
“Are you okay?” she asks, remembering that he’d been punched as well. He laughs in response and shakes his head. Right, that was a dumb question considering who she was talking to. Over the course of the day, it was as though she’d forgotten that he was the same Ghost that she fought with so many times. They are asked to leave the bar as well and the four of them walk to the car. Both keeping a close eye on the rowdy men in front of them. 
“So how was my form?” she asks 
“Needs work” he says, she laughs and hits his arm.
“Alright whose driving?” Kyle asks 
“Me” Simon grunts 
“Fuck no!” Johnny complains “I wanna live to see tomorrow”  
“Get in the fucking vehicle Johnny” he snaps, earning a laugh from her.
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nab1wuzhere · 2 months
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fanfic writers!! here me out. reader, geto and gojo were a trio. reader and geto had a “relationship” in jujitsu high, reader liked geto, geto liked reader, did they ever do something about it…? no. gojo on the other hand, had feelings for reader, reader of course did not reciprocate! (sorry gojo your time will come) after geto left he broke reader, they went cold and they felt betrayed, years go on gojo still has feelings for reader and reader is still trying to navigate through their life, gojo’s a sensei now, reader is doing something else, they somehow cross paths (idk how) and they spark up their friendship again, it’s quiet obvious that gojo still likes them, or dare i say love them..?? reader feels guilty because they themselves start to spark up feelings, but gojo has always cared for them and will never feel like a second choice, because he knows deep down reader isn’t like that. he says the line of “he was your first love but i’ll be your last.” (kinda like Klaus and Caroline ifykyk) SO. WHAT DO WE THINK?? DM ME FOR ANY QUESTIONS IF YOU WANT TO TAKE THIS PROJECT!! i would do it myself but honestly i’m too lazy and get writers block more then i would like :) the way i imagine this btw is reader being female, it’s how i always have so that is a must!!
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artemisgrayy · 1 month
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From One Hell to Another [Alastor x Reader]
[Link to full fic ^🔥]
18+ - Minors, do not interact with me or my content
Tags: nsfw, smut, minors DNI, Fem!reader, Reader Insert, Suspension, Alastor, Alastor's Shadow, eventual smut, eventual romance, Alastor finds you entertaining
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Chapter 3 WIP sneak peek
“Ah ah ah.” the filtered voice admonished as two more tendrils take hold of your ankles, prying your legs apart. The thin fabric of your shirt brushes up and over your thighs and you shiver as the cold sensation of the shadows climb tenderly past your knees.
You can’t help but squirm.
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Alastor leans forward and you take in a sharp breath, the air around you suddenly overtaken by his earthy smell -- a mix of fresh pine and petrichor.
Your brain short circuits.
Desperation takes hold as you lean forward, eager to drink it up for as long as he’ll let you.
The demon brings his face closer to yours. The grazing of his lips against your ear causes an involuntary shudder — your body relishing in the touch he awards you.
“I’ve thought of something I want.”
--
Read more here
I didn't have anything this spicy planned this early but I guess this is what happens when I'm up until 1am writing self indulgent bullshit
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concussed-to-pieces · 4 months
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Wolves At The Door; Epilogue
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Fandom: Resident Evil [Village]
Pairing: Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader
Rating: Holy shit M.
Summary: It was a little comforting to have a nightly ritual once more, however. Before it had been you and Karl discussing anything that struck him after dinner, and the silence continued to yawn around you at mealtimes. 
A/N: Welcome all, welcome to our final installment! I'd like to thank you all for reading, and for having faith in me to see this through safe and sound. Never fear, you will always have your happy ending 💚 Enjoy!
Tag List:  @cookiethewriter @amneris21 @topgirl17 @vodkafolie @a-smol-witch @clockworkmidnight @calwitch @silver-quinn01 @velvet-paradox @hijackser @mrs-wolfwood @nonstop-haikyuu @mic-sunderland @somethingthatsaysbubbles @fullofmoonsandstars @stargazerofgoldenwords @imthegreenfairy86 @karlskitten @nitrogennightmare @chunnies @thirstworldproblemss @highly-unknown @tartimaar-bloggeth @thesmartbiscuit @spoopyredacted @crowtrobotx @kotall-ohh @doggydale @jackie-loves-yalls-writing @simplysolo @teeheemax
x. Prelude
1. Indebted
2. Blood On Your Hands
3. Brush With Death
4. Come To Bed
5. Smells Like Snow
6. Hot Iron
7. Turnover
8. Backslide
9. Tender Gray Light
10. Hubris’ Weight
[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains mentions of blood, canon-typical violence, graphic depictions of mental and physical duress and sexual acts between two consenting adults. Stay safe!]
You hadn't been counting, but if you had, it would have been sixty-seven days. Sixty-seven days since Karl had vanished, sixty-seven days since you had heard another human's voice or even seen another person. 
Sixty-seven days. You weren't counting. 
Spring was fully upon the forest, buds erupting on the trees and the river swollen with runoff from the melting snow. It was one of your busiest times of the year between scavenging fallen trees, resetting the snares and sorting through your seeds to plant. You were extremely busy and you didn't think about it at all.
Not even when the Duke made his first appearance of the season.
“It brings me joy to see you once more, my dear! This winter was long and harsh.” The large man exclaimed, mopping his sweaty face with a handkerchief. “I'm wondering if you might assist me with a small problem. It seems someone may have suffered a bit of an incident, a turn of bad luck.” 
Despite this being the thing he always said when he had found an animal for you to nurse, your heart still gave a traitorous little jump in your chest. That is, of course, until a small doe limped around the rear of the cart. 
“What's wrong, my dear?” The Duke queried, and when you glanced at him his expression was strangely stoic. “Were you expecting someone else?”
“No, I…” You hesitated. “I guess not. What's happened to this little girl?”
“She claims that she got her fore left leg caught in the fork of a tree. The woods have been so peaceful as of late though that, aside from the pain, she wasn't scared,” the Duke mused thoughtfully, a swollen hand resting gently on the animal's head. “Apparently her leg would have been broken had she panicked. She had to remain still for several hours to get free.”
You were always entertained by the way the merchant acted like he could understand the woodland creatures he brought to you, but if nothing else he clearly had a way with them. The black horse that drew his cart, for instance, had never balked or shied away in all the times that the Duke had rattled his wares around behind the creature's head. 
You squinted upwards at the Duke. “So I'm salving and wrapping her leg?”
“Indeed, a simple fix.” He bent down, giving you a look so intent it made you a little uncomfortable. “And I'll give something to you as a token of my appreciation.”
“Huh?”
He simply winked, then gestured at the doe. 
You were burning with curiosity. What could he be granting you? And for free, no less! Ablaze with possibilities you didn't dare hope for, you nonetheless dutifully tended to the small scrape on the deer's thin leg.
“A familiar task for you, I'd wager.” The Duke finally spoke again, cigar smoke wafting around his head like a cloud. You gave him a confused look, quirking your brow, yet his face remained amicably bland. 
You eventually settled back onto your haunches, wiping a few beads of sweat from your brow. While the weather had yet to truly warm up, the sunlight was beaming through the still-leafless trees. 
The doe staggered to her feet, bleating at you loud enough to make you jump. The Duke laughed as if in reply, that large hand landing on the animal's head once more. “Off you get now, little hind. You know the way home.” He murmured, giving her another pat before she departed. “She said thank you, by the by.” The large man informed you almost absently, already searching through his pockets for another cigar.
“Oh of course,” was your dry response, making him chuckle. “What's with all this cryptic stuff, though?”
“Ah, to business.” The Duke rubbed his hands together, his rings jangling discordantly as he did. “A favorite subject. Regrettably my gift is nothing really physical, it is instead a message.” His keen eyes felt suddenly sharp, as though he was seeing through your soul itself. “That iron horse does not forget its master so easily, especially one so gracious as you, my dear.”
You stared up at him blankly. Horse? What? What the hell is that supposed to mean?
The Duke seemed entertained by your bewilderment, the man grinning and leaning back on the bench of his cart. “Perhaps it would be more apt to dub him the feral mutt you've brought to heel. After all, kindness and a warm meal are lures potent enough to drag in even the most stoic of men.”
“That's not funny.” You said in a curt tone, hating that you could feel your lower lip quivering slightly. “I…that's not funny, Mr. Duke.”
He was abruptly serious. “I don't jest lightly, my dear.”
“Then why would you say that?!” You snapped, getting to your feet and dusting off the knees of your pants. “I didn't help out just so you could sit up there and make fun of me-”
“My dear I assure you, I'm as sincere as the day is long.” The Duke insisted, knocking some ash from the end of his cigar. “Call it a…perhaps a merchant's intuition. After all, it's important to have a certain level of foresight, to be able to read the ebbs and flows of the market and adjust to demand ahead of schedule. How else would I keep my clientele?” 
“You're not making any sense.” You growled, now frustrated with your corpulent visitor.
He tipped his head back, expelling another waft of smoke upwards. “Have a little faith, will you? Creature of habit that you are, have faith in the unseen, the unknown.” The Duke jabbed his cigar at you. “Or continue to wallow in your discontent, counting the days that you claim mean nothing.”
You recoiled physically as if he had struck you, taking in a deep breath to deny his words. But instead all that came out was a soft, pitiful, “I miss him.”
The Duke nodded, oddly sympathetic all of a sudden. “Have faith, my dear.” He clasped your hand between his own enormous paws, eyes sincere. “The spring is upon us, and new life grows eternal in these woods. Keep your lanterns lit.”
Damn, it's quiet. 
It echoed in his ears, a looping nothingness like static. Abruptly his heartbeat interrupted it, thudding deafeningly in his skull. What the hell had the good-for-nothing organ been doing before that?!
The beat was slow, much slower than it ought to be. His thoughts were barely there, sluggish and disjointed. 
Rain hammering what was once his face, the boom of thunder and the grinding shriek of metal–
No, no, he had dealt with that already. Where was he? It was so frustrating not being able to think, to string along a process to its conclusion. 
He flexed his right hand, confused by how numb it was. Pins and needles lurched down the limb in a wave, making him shudder and grunt. That shudder dislodged…something, a huge, sharp something that, from what he could struggle to put together, was what had pinned him to the wall he was currently pressed against. 
It didn't seem to matter if he opened his eyes or kept them closed, either way he was effectively sightless and plagued with vertigo. Had he gone blind?
A groan rattled dryly out of his throat. The skin on his lips cracked with the exhale, and he felt liquid begin to dampen them. His tongue flicked out on reflex, the man tasting rust and dirt. Unbidden came a warm flash as if from a dream, cinnamon and brown sugar, plum spice cake.
Standing was a challenge. More of a slow, creaking shift into what could be vaguely considered an upright position. Fingers scratching at the mud around him, the man levered himself off the ground with the help of what was left of his enormous hammer. The handle of it felt more brittle than he had expected, the scent of rust filling the air when his fingers gripped down. 
How long has it been? 
And then, a new thought occurred, one that seemed to fully shock him to life. Have I just been dreaming this entire time?
Had you just been some vivid hallucination? Had the Duke even scraped him off the ground and brought him to safety, or had he just crawled back into his burrow to die once the saga of he and Winters’ fracas had played out? 
Was any of it real?
The ground squelched wetly beneath whatever was left of his boots as he staggered forward, but it also crunched in a grim manner. He didn't want to think too hard on that, instead focusing on sending out pulses of his power. He couldn't truly see, but at least he knew where metallic objects were in proximity to him and he could use that knowledge to keep from toppling over. 
He wasn't certain how long he meandered through the sunless wreckage. Was it hours, or weeks? Slowly, painfully, one shuffling foot in front of the other, he continued on aimlessly. He wondered to himself if this was how earthworms felt, wriggling through the cold earth in search of sustenance and never deigning to see the sunlight.
He barely even noticed when it started to become brighter around him, reasoning that he must simply be imagining it when faintly from far, far above came a distant dawn chorus of birdsong. The man paused, straining his eyes to see in the dim light, and he could only just make out a faint glow in the distance. His legs, all but atrophied from disuse, protested mightily when he tried to up his pace, so he was forced to maintain the speed of a snail moving through cold molasses.
It was a long, hard trek. The rubble-laden floor angled slightly upwards to the…hole? cave in?, leaving the man to simply flounder and scrape his shins on the detritus he was too weary to lift his legs over. 
As the light strengthened, he came to the sudden realization that he was all but naked. What was left of his clothing was in ribbons, caked with ichor, old blood and mold. His boots seemed to be coming apart at the seams, blooming white patches of mold eating into the remnants of the leather. He then shivered as the first bracing breeze of the outside world graced his lungs, and the coughing spasm it startled out of him seemed to dislodge more than it should have. 
When he finally was able to straighten back up, his spine settled into place, releasing an earsplitting pop! as it did. Relief flooded his body, the pain dulling to a manageable throb. He took a few more tentative breaths, noting as he did how much brighter his surroundings had become. Had he been walking through the night, and just reached the entrance at dawn?
It doesn't really matter, he decided, squaring his shoulders. The only thing that matters is…
“I have to go back.” He grimaced at the rasp of his own voice, swallowing and trying again. “I have to…make sure it wasn't all in my head.”
I have to see them. And when I do, I…
His heart lurched painfully in his chest. What if it had all just been a dream? Some wild wish-fulfillment of a gentler, kinder existence while his body slowly repaired itself after his glorious defeat at the hands of Ethan Winters? 
His empty stomach felt like it was caving in, fear and resignation warring in his gut, but after a moment of hesitation he shook the hair out of his eyes and stepped out into the cool yellow light of a spring morning.
The first thing he noticed was no humanoid footprints, to his absolute delight. No wolf prints, no footprints, nothing. At least he hadn't failed in that regard. Unless he had imagined it and those fucks who put up the fence had also been the ones to eradicate the lycans and their pets. 
Gods, his head hurt. The sun, just barely over the horizon now, seemed like it was burning his retinas clean out of his skull. He shaded his eyes with his palm, grimacing in pain. He would go check the bulkhead he had entered through, he decided. Check the bulkhead, see if it even existed, then check for fresh tracks there. And then…and then…
He slumped against the rubble of the caved-in factory wall, running a hand over his face. His facial hair was extremely unruly and matted with grime, and he doubted the rest of him looked any better. Once he departed the village, put some distance between himself and this…malodorous valley, he would have to clean himself up. If you were real, if he hadn't imagined you in a fit of self-indulgent madness, he doubted you would be overly impressed with him showing up half-dead, reeking of stale sweat, mold and wet dog.
To say nothing of the fact that his clothing was in tatters.
It was a slow, zig-zagging walk back to where he had descended into the factory previously.  At least he knew for certain that the bulkhead existed, the man reasoned with himself while he scrutinized the ground around the bulkhead that hadn't caved in. Again, nothing. No fresh marks, no scrapes, no scuffs. Not so much as a sparrow's tiny claw marks graced the ground. Seemingly the local wildlife gave the valley a wide berth, which made sense. Between Miranda's crow forms and the various nightmarish denizens of this place, it was only logical for normal creatures to avoid it.
He straightened up, squinting against the sunlight once more. He could only just make out that ridiculous fence way off by the outskirts of the valley, and if he remembered the fence…
The man gripped the remains of the haft of his hammer and began walking. It had only taken him a few hours of running to get here before, but after his…rest, it would seem that running wasn't in the cards for today. Or ever again, if the screaming in his calves was anything to go by. So walking it was, doing his best to ignore the tremor in his legs as he went. 
He mainly left his attention on the ground, familiar enough with the valley that he could afford to do so. Back around the swamp he went, nearly losing the sole of one of his boots to the sucking mud that surrounded the area.
He had to get to you. He had to know whether you were real. The fear and hope cycled in his head, back and forth, round and round, and he wondered hazily if he had snapped (or snapped more). 
Climbing the rise felt like an impossible task and yet eventually he stood at the top, sweating and panting but there. 
Without an ounce of finesse, Karl Heisenberg gracelessly tore open a section of the fence and made his escape out into the forest, never once looking back at the village that had been his home for so many years. No, all that his thoughts could stay latched onto was the memory of plum spice cake and the way you had looked at him that night.
He had to get to you. He had to make sure that you were real. And…
He had to apologize.
He had to make this right.
If you hated him, that was fine! It was your right. He would hate him. What he had done was stupid. You made him feel something that he didn't understand, and for someone as self-assured as Karl, that was terrifying. 
Cut them off at the source. More like run from a problem he didn't think he could handle, like some cowardly bitch. The man snarled at himself in discontent, his pace picking up to some sort of lumbering jog. Deer fled before him, nimble bodies flitting through the undergrowth as he did his best to retrace his steps. At least he had the river to follow, if nothing else.
Speaking of which.
Karl knelt beside the rushing water, grateful that he couldn't see his reflection. He had a decent imagination, he didn't need to confirm it. 
It was cold as ice, the chill of it taking his breath away. Karl took another breath and shoved his head underwater, closing his eyes to keep…whatever was in his hair out of them. The man then flipped the soggy hair back over his head, finger-combing it away from his face.
Karl proceeded to drink greedily from the river, the frigid water a shock and blessing all in one. He hadn't realized just how thirsty he was, the man finally sloppily wiping his mouth and beard and then getting to his feet once more. The handle of his hammer remained on the ground beside the river, forgotten, as Heisenberg continued onward along the bank.
He felt like he was actually awake now, like he'd emerged from some kind of dream (or nightmare) into these woods. His footing grew more sure, atrophy fading as his muscles warmed up both from use and from the strengthening sunlight streaming through the trees.
He wanted to laugh, he wanted to cry. The day was so young, the sky overhead a vibrant blue and the moss beneath his boots a lush, fluffy green. It was honestly beautiful and Karl had no idea how he had never seen it before. Had he been wandering through life with his eyes shut until now?
No, he thought firmly, he had only begun to open them when he met you. You had done that. You had been worth it, had been worth him taking actual notice of the world around him. 
You had to be real. You must be. None of the other phantoms he had encountered in his life had any substance to them, but you…
Heisenberg clenched his fists, urging his body to move faster.
Keep your lanterns lit.
And so you did. The Duke had left you with a physical gift despite his claims to the contrary; a sturdy metal lantern with a large cutout shaped like a horse. Every night as the sun was setting, you went out to where it hung on your front gate and lit the candle inside it, which, curiously, never seemed to get any shorter. You, admittedly, didn't have much faith, you just assumed the Duke had been trying to comfort you with some platitude. 
It was a little comforting to have a nightly ritual once more, however. Before it had been you and Karl discussing anything that struck him after dinner, and the silence continued to yawn around you at mealtimes. You would take what you could get. You often lingered out by the fence for a while, telling yourself you weren't really listening as you strained your ears to hear anything, anything at all. You knew it was futile and you weren't actually expecting anything to come of it, yet still you persisted in wasting time by the front gate.
With the lengthening days you were occasionally out past dusk, cutting wood or finishing house repairs. On one such day, a floorboard on the porch that had begun creaking in the winter finally annoyed you enough that you decided to attempt to fix it. 
You spent most of the day carefully foraging drips of pine pitch from nearby trees, intending to make a batch of pine tar in the evening. Board couldn't creak if it couldn't move, right? 
You set up your highly-technical ‘refining station’, which definitely wasn't just an old beans can nestled down into the dirt beneath your fire pit, a slightly-larger tomato can with holes poked into the bottom of it resting on top. Then, after dropping all your resin in the upper can, you carefully built the fire up, placing a rock over the top of the can to act as a lid. The melting process could take a few hours, depending on the fire, so it was after sundown when you began to cautiously sift through the charcoal. You would need a few good, clean pieces to mix in with the now-filtered resin, in order to ensure some pliability remained.
You had interrupted the task at sunset, moving in an automatic way from the firepit to the fence to light the lantern. You could see the glow of it now out of the corner of your eye, even while you pored over the char. 
Maybe it does nothing but make me feel a little less alone. 
You stared down at your gloved hands full of blackened wood, blinking furiously when tears began to blur your vision. You continued, albeit a bit more clumsily, to separate out the cleanest chunks of charcoal, doing your best to make a neat little pile. 
A boot abruptly landed squarely in the middle of the pile and you couldn't help the terrified noise that left your mouth, scrambling to try and get to your feet. Before you could, though, the person dropped to their knees and wrapped their arms around you, trapping you in place. Wiry unkempt facial hair scuffed your cheek while you just sat there, frozen stiff with fear.
“Sugar.” 
Karl. 
Your breath caught in your throat. You felt his entire body shudder. “I couldn't remember if you were real.” His voice cracked. “I followed the light, but I couldn't–I'm…I'm so sorry, sugar. I'm so, so sorry, I don't know if I can ever make it up to you, I-I just-”
You silently returned his hug, sure that you were leaving charcoal stains on his clothes but not able to find it in you to care all that much. Karl stopped trying to speak after a few moments, the man sagging against you with his forehead resting on your shoulder. “Tell me in the morning, okay?” You whispered, relieved when he nodded. “Let's just get you inside.”
It wasn't much of a struggle to get him indoors, and he bedded down on his old cot without so much as a peep of complaint. He was filthy, but now wasn't the time for your hygiene regiment. He was clearly stripped for energy and worn out. Better to let this particular sleeping dog lie, at least for now.
Karl woke suddenly, whatever dream he had been having rapidly fading from his mind. He stared up at the ceiling, momentarily perplexed. Pine truss beams running lengthwise, the pattern of knots and wood grain achingly familiar. 
Sugar. 
He shoved himself into a sitting position, body still heavy from sleep, and saw you. 
You weren't really doing anything all that impressive. The stove door was ajar and you were busily tending the fire. But at that moment, Karl was certain he had never seen a more beautiful sight. “Sugar,” he rasped, voice gruff and drowsy. 
You turned to look at him, your eyes softening upon meeting his own. “Hey, Karl.”
Oh, he could fucking cry. Heisenberg huffed out a breath, feeling his heart twist in his chest. You lugged over the basin of water that had been sitting next to the stove (maybe to keep it warm?), toting a washcloth and the bar of soap as well. “Talk with me once you've sponged off.” You said, not unkindly. “You kinda’ smell like BO and dead animal.”
“I doubt it's a kind of level of smell.” Karl admitted wryly, making you snicker and nod. “Sorry about all this. You tend to smell like death if you're dead for a little while, after all.”
“I don't know if I would call two months and some change a ‘little while’. Also, dead?” You raised an eyebrow. 
Karl stared at you. Two months. Over two months. Gods almighty. 
You, seeming to register that the news was a shock to him, patted his knee. “Y'know what, worry about it later. Focus on the first thing and we can go from there. I'll make us some lunch.”
“Lunch?” 
You nodded, turning your wrist so he could see your watch. It was indeed a little after one in the afternoon. “Get washed up,” you reiterated softly. 
So Karl attempted to do so, flushing a little once he'd stripped and realized just how dirty he actually was. “Sugar?” He called, using the remains of his clothes to cover his groin just in case you turned around. Sure, sure you had seen him entirely naked before, but…
From the kitchen you replied, “yeah?” He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed that you didn't look at him.
“I'm just going to throw myself in the river. I don't think this glorified bucket is going to cut it.” He reasoned. 
“Okay, you know where the towels are. Just make sure you go downstream a ways.”
The freezing water in the river was a far cry from the lukewarm comfort that the basin had held, but Karl was a little more certain in his cleanliness once he emerged, teeth chattering and body pink from scrubbing, from the pool that swirled and eddied alongside your far fenceline. Spreading out the worn towel once he had mostly dried himself off, Heisenberg took a moment to lay back on the riverbank and examine the new scars.
The cadou had healed him, of course, but now he was riddled with scars. He'd prided himself previously on his ability to guard quickly, to be able to adjust during a fight and use his powers to shield himself. But that many lycans, vârcolaci, in essentially total darkness…
He knew he was lucky to be alive at all, and that he shouldn't be so unsettled by a few new marks. He still couldn't help the sinking feeling in his stomach. He had never worried about his looks, it had never crossed his mind. His confidence in his abilities was so all-encompassing he hadn't considered the possibility, but what if you had only been attracted to his looks? You had vocalized interest in his appearance, after all.
Karl frowned, rubbing a hand over his face and noting even more unfamiliar raised areas. Maybe he would feel better once he got his facial hair under control. Once he looked like himself again, or some sort of approximation of it. First things first though, he would need to beg some clothes off of you.
You tore into a thick slice of bread, slathered with a little of the precious squirrel fat you had left and a healthy sprinkle of salt. Karl had vanished into your bedroom with the haircare kit, stating that he “felt more human, but could use a shape-up”.
He looked much too good for someone you had convinced yourself to be mad at. Truthfully your confusion and anger at being…well, abandoned, in your own terms, had ebbed substantially upon his arrival. He had seemed–breakable wasn't quite the right word. Maybe fragile? He had clearly been through hell, if nothing else. At that moment, you had decided to be merciful. You would hear him out. If you didn't like his answer, you could always show him the door.
Another bite was crammed into your mouth, and you focused on chewing furiously before your thoughts could wander any further. Cool it, hotshot, you scolded yourself mentally. Try to be normal about this.
Once Karl emerged from your room he gingerly settled into the seat across from you at the table. Wearing some borrowed, slightly ill-fitting clothes and sporting some uneven edges to his facial hair, the man didn't exactly cut an imposing figure. 
God, you had missed him so much.
To your surprise he entirely ignored the food in front of him, instead reaching across the table and clasping your free hand between his own. The look he leveled at you made you want to break eye contact, but stubbornly, you refused. He owed you this much, you reminded yourself with more than a touch of irritation.
“I'm sorry.” His voice was still raspy, but it seemed to be from disuse. “I…sugar I fucked up. I own that. I was scared.”
You gaped at him, thrown entirely off balance. The man who had faced down a horde of lycans, the man who could control metal with a look, a gesture–
Scared?
He wasn't done clearly, his grip on your hand tensing as he leaned in with an earnest expression. “You deserved better than what I did. You were–gods, you were so kind to me. Opened your home to me when I didn't know who I was. Opened yourself to me.” 
Were you blushing?! Dammit! 
“I know we didn't mean fuckall to one another, I get that it was…I guess a convenience, using each other for mutual benefit. But I-” Heisenberg paused, leaving you reeling. It was true though, wasn't it? Convenience. No emotions involved in it. “-I don't know what the hell happened.” He finally admitted, his voice soft. “I don't know when it changed for me. Whether it even changed at all, or if it was always like that and I was just ignoring it. I'm, uh, not exactly experienced here, and I guess I can blame it on that.”
“‘Experienced’ how?” You managed to ask, a hysterical giggle escaping you when he stuttered and fell silent. “Seriously?”
“This isn't how I-look, sugar, I figured me dying, me wiping out all those lycan freaks and probably dying in the process–I mean it wasn't great, but I thought I could at least be useful. I'm not…good.” His voice faded to an awkward mumble. “Good, like how you are.”
One thing at a time. You could process that later. “All the lycans?” The woods had been peaceful the last few months. You hadn't really thought…damn. 
Karl nodded, his jaw set in a grim line.
“You…You really thought you were gonna’ die?” You felt a little nauseous when he nodded again. “How? You're so tough!”
“I'd never fought the horde on their turf. They holed up in my factory after-” he gestured at himself. “-everything.” The man sighed heavily, rotating his shoulder. “Brought the house down on top of them and me. Not sure how long I fought them before then.”
“You've got to be shitting me.” You planted your palms on the table, shoving your chair out behind you from the force as you stood. “You went back there and nearly got yourself killed-”
“Yes.” Heisenberg cut you off. “I did, sugar, and I'd do it again.”
“Why though?” You exclaimed, incredulous.
“You really don't know?” He asked, sounding just as incredulous. “You try coming to a realization like I did when you're fucking–balls deep in someone!” His eyes widened, the man dropping his head to thud against the table after a moment of stunned silence. “Dammit,” he snarled, his voice muffled.
“W-what realization?” You knew you should probably leave it alone. It was an invasive question and, despite the intimacy the two of you had shared, an apology was already on your lips when it was cut off by a loud groan from Karl.
“That I–that you–” the man floundered, then suddenly jerked his head up to fix you with an appropriately-intense look. “I think I love you.”
What.
What?!
Your shoulders dropped, hands slack on the tabletop. You stared at Karl, but all he did was stare back at you, his gaze one of weary resignation.
I think I love you. 
“S-So–” Gods, when had your mouth become so dry?! “So you don't know?” You half-squeaked, half-choked on the words.
“I've never felt this way before,” was his blunt reply. “I can only infer from the evidence.” He didn't seem thrilled about the circumstances, but maybe that could also be chalked up to his lack of experience.
“Is it…are you okay with it?”
Karl's brow furrowed, and then he offered you a slow, firm nod. “...yeah. Had a lot of time to think during my walk back. Even if you…I mean, if you think I'm gross-looking now, that's okay. I'd understand.”
You blinked, entirely baffled. Gross? Sure, he had a few new scars on his face. They only stood out to you because the tissue was still pink, unlike the silvery lines that had littered his visage before. But that wasn't gross, not to you anyway. 
Karl was still talking however, and it seemed that he was picking up speed. “Sugar, I showed up, an unknown, a starving wolf at your door and yet you showed me kindness, even if it was just a favor for that fat bastard at first. You fed me from your own damn plate, let me take comfort in you.” His words hitched momentarily when he continued, “I was just so–so twisted and broken, I didn't understand that you could offer with open hands. I didn't understand what you had given me and then I realized as I was throwing myself at the lycan hive that…I was an idiot. It wasn't that I wanted to die, I wanted to live! I'd never wanted to live so much in my damn life, so I could get back to you, so I could apologize, so I could–” Heisenberg's fists clenched, the man soldiering on doggedly, “so I could tell you how I…felt. How I think I feel.”
“So you could tell me that you love me.” You were reeling. 
“Yes.” His broad shoulders caved a little, the man shrinking into himself. “And now you know. Now I know. But I don't know what to do. I've never…this hasn't happened before.”
You picked up your glass of water and drained it in one long gulp, attempting to buy time while your brain ran through a million possibilities at once. Your main takeaway, however, was simple. He loves me. A warm sensation flooded your body, tingling down to your fingertips. He loves me. “Want me to offer some input?” You asked, your steps light as you rounded the table. 
Heisenberg nodded dully, his eyes fixed on the bowl of stew in front of him. You gently brought your hands up to cup his chin, tilting his face so you could meet his gaze. You found no regret in that stare, only apprehension, which was immensely heartening.
“Next time you have a realization like that, talk to me.” You said in a sweet tone, the ‘loving’ pat you gave him on the cheek not quite a smack. “Don't pull something like that again…and I'll let you stay with me.”
“You…what, seriously?” Karl demanded, his eyes widening. “You'll let me stay here? Even after-”
“Don't push your luck,” you warned, blowing a raspberry at him when he began to laugh incredulously. “This isn't a vacation, after all! You'll need to fix holes in the roof, help me with the supplies every year, check the traps-”
Karl swept you up in a hungry kiss, effectively cutting off your eternal to-do list. “That all sounds wonderful, sugar.” He murmured against your lips. “Let me finish lunch and I'll get right on it.”
Thoroughly flustered, you stammered out in protest, “i-i-it's not going to be easy, Karl! Don't agree to this unless you understand the burden of responsibility you're taking on.”
“I do.” He insisted around his first mouthful of bread. “I pr’mise.”
He wasn't certain where your underwear had gone, but he was immensely grateful for its absence. You leaned forward, taking his dick out of your mouth for a second to catch your breath and Karl forced your knees to slide out on either side of him with his forearms so he could draw his tongue along your cunt. His thumbs spread you open, the man rumbling when he felt your breath hitch. Then, Karl delved his tongue into you, making you moan and whimper around his dick while he slowly, slowly ate you out.
Karl could feel his heartbeat in his neck when your thighs suddenly snapped shut around his head, hips rocking back and forth as you ground yourself against his mouth. Finally, someone who could be as greedy as he was.
His own hips bucked upwards, driving his cock into your throat mercilessly while you continued to attempt to crush his skull. Your thighs were trembling, body undulating helplessly. All Karl could do was urge you onward and that's exactly what he did, his voice a low burr against your cunt as he demanded that you come for him. It didn't matter that you'd already come before, it didn't matter that you were still sloppy and fucked-out from his previous, extremely enthusiastic efforts. Karl wanted more and he knew you did too.
Your pelvis lurched abruptly, breath coming in sharp little gasps as you began to climax. The former Lord growled in satisfaction, clasping his hands up over your thighs to pin you where you were as you rode out your orgasm. 
“Mmm, told you that you had one more in you,” he hummed, grinning when you whined your annoyance at him. “Shh, no complaining sugar, or I'll wring another one out of you for fun.” As if to prove his point Karl slid a finger into you, using it to massage your still-trembling walls. You whimpered but made no attempt to wriggle away from him, so Heisenberg simply carried on gently stroking his finger in and out of your entrance. “One more, sugar, c'mon, match me.” The man teased, his eyes half-lidding when you took his dick in hand once more.
“You're ridiculous-” You panted. He could hear the laughter in your words despite your evident breathlessness. “I love you.”
“Love you too, sugar.” Karl patted your leg, guiding you to turn around and slide back down to straddle his thighs. He then sat up slightly, meeting you halfway in a hungry kiss. “I love you,” he sighed, finding his eyes still searching your own for reassurance. 
But then you smiled at him, knocking your forehead gently against his own. “And I love you, Karl.”
I love you. 
“‘Course you do,” Karl breathed, half to himself. You rolled your eyes at him and your wry chuckle was music to his ears, as was your singsong reply.
“Of course I do.”
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violetsiren90 · 1 month
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All I Haven't Said | Namjoon/Reader
💜 Chapter 3: Part 2 💜
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Table of Contents: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 (part 1), Chapter 3 (part 2)
Pairing: idol!Namjoon/f!Reader
Genre: Soulmate AU; idol AU; chapter fic; strangers to lovers; a bit of idiots to lovers, tbh; slow burn; eventual romance; eventual smut; angst (life is messy & hearts are complex); OT7 featured
Summary: You found your soulmate - or rather, he found you. Turns out he's an idol of much acclaim who needs you for very real and unglamorous reasons. What could become of two hearts so used to giving of themselves when they are confronted with needing each other?
Chapter Word Count: ~7k
Chapter Warnings: This fic is 18+, as is all my work and my page as a whole; depictions of cancer and its treatment; secondhand embarrassment; awkward situations; soulmate skinship; loss of consciousness; dudes dude-broing a bit lol; mentions of minor character death (in past); cursing; chemo therapy and its symptoms; nausea and vomiting; characters eat meals; Reader is starting to grapple with some difficult feelings; Hybe kinda sorta depicted as being collective assholes in responding to this situation (gonna be a theme, guys)
Author's Note: Here comes part two! I know this is months coming (again), but I've finally found my stride with writing and work. I had this mostly done, and then redid some parts and finished editing, and well...I just hope you all enjoy it! My hope is to post part three in two weeks - I really want to get into a groove with plot progression here!
There is a lot of content in this chapter about medical procedures and treatment. I tried my best to represent these as accurately as possible with what information I could acquire, but if there are any misrepresentations, great or small, please don't hesitate to let me know!
Thank you again to all who have stuck with this story! I continue to be blown away by how much love you have all showered upon it, and I'm so excited to walk the path I intend for these two and have you all along for the ride!!
P.S. If you want to join the tag list, drop me a comment or an ask!
P.P.S. If no one has told you yet today, you're loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜
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"Out of sheer taciturnity the ceiling listens To the fall of ancient leafless rain, To feathers, to whatever the night imprisoned." ~Pablo Neruda
Chapter 3: My Windows Ache
Namjoon's labs had come back with even more promising numbers. A radiology scan had shown no shrinkage in his tumors, but the doctors commented that these were early days, and that the effects of the bond might even be keeping them from inflaming due to the chemo. You had watched him, smiling as the doctor reviewed the result, and couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Your soulmate was on the road to recovery. 
     Nurse Cha quickly checked both of you over before initiating another skinship session.
     "I saw you out on the grounds earlier, and for the first time in weeks," she said, shooting Namjoon an approving grin. "Keep that up. He needs sunlight and fresh air," she remarked to you, flustering you even as you nodded in agreement.
     Why was she telling you that? Were you his keeper?
     Actually, you supposed, in fact, you were.
     You peeked back up at him and found him regarding you with a small, amused smile, which disconcerted you further. You shook your head, shooting him an eye-roll as you made your way into the bathroom to disrobe.
     After your first few experiences with skinship, you had asked Matt to acquire you some sporty, conservative sports bra and boy-short sets, and you slipped into one, pulling a hospital gown over it. After the way your conversation with Hyung-seo had unfolded you were glad to have them - the practical underwear felt far less intimate and flirty than your typical bras and panties, giving you much more peace of mind. 
     As you left the bathroom and made your way back to Namjoon's half of the suite, you noticed him sitting on top of the covers, long legs stretched out in front of him, in nothing but a black tee and blue boxers. He had a drip attached to a tube that ran under his shirt. When Nurse Cha glanced up from her touchscreen tablet to see you approaching, she waved her hand for you to come around to the other side of the bed, which had been adjusted to accommodate Namjoon's upright position.
     "We’re going to try this sitting up today," she explained as she typed. "He's on a chemo drip right now, and the doctor wants to see if the bond will help ease the nausea and some of the other side effects. I heard you just had a nice lunch, so it would be wonderful if Namjoon could hang onto his."
     She shot him a rueful smirk and he let out a chuckle. You smiled in turn and nodded as you slipped off your hospital gown and draped it over the end of the bed. You glanced up at Namjoon who had cast his eyes down at his hands, folded in his lap. The huge apparatus was lower than usual, so you slipped rather easily into it and against Namjoon's side. He raised an arm to drape over your shoulders and you settled against him, pressing your bare leg against his. It was comical how much shorter yours were, but you could only think of that for a fraction of a second as every other thought in your mind melted at the feeling of the man beside you.
     Butter. Warm, melted butter. It was as if every single muscle group in your body had suddenly released every bit of tension it had been holding. So many sensations at once, but this was the one you felt like leaning into at the moment. You felt like collapsing against him.
He sighed deeply through his nose. Yeah, you felt that on a spiritual level. Mmh. 
     Your melty, bond-induced reverie was broken, however, by a dissatisfied noise from Nurse Cha as she stepped toward the bed. You looked up to find her expression matched her tone. 
     "You're not really getting much contact," she said, scanning her eyes over everywhere you touched...and didn't. 
     You raised your arms slightly and a bit uselessly. You felt Namjoon lean forward.
     "Should I...like..." you looked to her for direction, but she was already in motion. 
     She grabbed your arm, guiding you off the bed and motioned for Namjoon to scoot back to the middle. She said something to Namjoon in Korean and suddenly he was tugging his shirt over his head. You felt your cheeks getting hot. Social norms had not prepared you for this amount of casual nudity. You stood there, eyes glued to Nurse Cha, hugging your arms over your middle and hoping that Namjoon was playing his usual blessed game of "look anywhere but soulmate". The nurse took your arm again and guided you back toward your previous perch.
     "Sit between his legs and lean back against his chest," she instructed, nudging you to join him.
You looked up at Namjoon. His face looked like you felt. And then it was just too much. You were standing in a hospital in South Korea in your underwear being asked to sit in a practically naked celebrity's lap so that he wouldn't die.
     You busted out laughing.
     Nurse Cha jumped, surprise clear in her features as she regarded you. 
     "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You gasped, bending over to support yourself against the bed as you continued to chuckle, "This is just..."
     You snorted. Mortified but still attempting to swallow your giggles you clapped a hand over your mouth and looked up at Namjoon whose dimples were out and whose shoulders were shaking with his own silent amusement. Nurse Cha's lips curved up a bit to one side, but her narrowed eyes spoke of far less hilarity felt.
     "Here's the thing," you said, turning to the nurse while still biting back your laughter, "Namjoon is spoken for, and...well...I have a pretty nice ass."
     The nurse's eyes widened.
     You were probably being really impolite. That would have been borderline in the States. You weren't sure about here, but you felt like that might have broken some unspoken rules. Or, maybe spoken ones because there were a lot of formalities, you were learning. But you had reached your limit with all this. The awkwardness levels were at maximum, and you were gonna cope the only way you knew how - with humor.
     When you hazarded a look at your soulmate, he had drawn his knees up, grabbing them with his hands, his head dropped between them and his shoulders shaking as he badly repressed laughter of his own. You could see those dimples again. They were even deeper than before.
     "We need to get maximum skin-to-skin contact during these sessions," Nurse Cha insisted indignantly, clearly a bit flustered. 
     "I know, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you offered her a contrite smile as you rocked back on your feet. 
     "Ah!" Namjoon drew your attention as he pointed behind you. "Throw me that pillow?" 
     You grabbed the little green cushion from the corner of the couch and tossed it to him. He lowered his legs and placed it over his lap.
     "How's that?" he asked with a closed-lip smirk.
     You gave him a thumbs up and clambered back onto the bed to situate yourself between his legs. You looked back over at Nurse Cha. 
     "Better?" 
     She raised a brow as she handed you a blanket. You thanked her quietly and cleared your throat as you fanned it out over your legs and Namjoon's, tucking it up to your waist. The nurse checked Namjoon's vitals and said that she would return in an hour to take him off the drip.
     You sank back tentatively against your soulmate's chest, careful to avoid the little port below his sternum. There it was again. Butter.
     Somewhere above and behind you, Namjoon chuckled. You smiled knowingly.
     "What?" you asked indignantly.
     "Did you see her face when you said that?"
     You shrugged against him.
     "Hey, it's true!" you insisted.
     "Sorry if this is uncomfortable for you," he murmured.
     You could hear that he was still smiling, but he sounded serious all the same. You let your head fall back.
     "Honestly, I felt bad for you," you huffed in another laugh before sobering. "And, thank you," you turned, casting your eyes up over your shoulder, "For always being so respectful. It's made this a lot easier."
     "Oh," Namjoon responded softly, "Of course." 
     You looked at his arms resting at his sides and thought of what Nurse Cha had said. You slowly picked up his hands in yours, raising them slightly.
     "May I put them around me? For more contact," you asked.
     You asked it boldly, but you felt shy. You wanted the chemo to work. You wanted it to stop hurting him while it did. When Namjoon let out a low hum of assent you drew his forearms around your waist and laid your own over them.
     Your eyes slipped shut. So euphoric but it always made you feel like sleeping. You weren't going to give into the urge, though, not just yet. There were conversations to be had.
     "Tell me about Hyung-seo," you prompted softly, shifting against him to get comfortable. 
     He was quiet for a moment.
     "Well," he responded slowly, "what do you want to know?"
     "How did you meet her?"
     He went quiet again. Then he sighed a small sigh. You wondered what that little breath carried.
     "She debuted in 2019. A buddy of mine - Seo Jungkwon, he goes by Tiger JK in the industry -  had signed her to his agency. Bangtan was just taking off, things were blowing up. I actually collaborated with him which is when I met her."
     He silenced for a moment.
     "We had a lot in common - how we approached life and music."
     "Had?" you asked, gently.
     He heaved another sigh. 
     "The last few years have been really tough on her. I mean, she hasn't had an easy life to begin with, but..."
     He paused, as if deciding whether or not to utter the words he wanted to say next.
     "Anyway," he redirected himself, and you wondered what thought he had dismissed, "Preparing for a tour is grueling, and this is her first one. I think the stress is really getting her."
     You hummed in acknowledgement. You recognized it in his voice - you should after all, as the same sound had echoed so often in your own - the hollow clemency of lying to yourself on someone else's behalf. 
     "Well," you offered, "She's lucky to have you supporting her, especially when you're going through such a difficult time yourself."
     Namjoon scoffed.
     "I mean, yeah, I'm sick, but...I don't know. In a lot of ways my life has been a lot easier these days. A lot simpler."
     "Really? In what way?"
     He huffed out a wry laugh.
     "I have so much time to just do whatever. Read, write...I've been learning a couple of languages. I get to do v-lives with ARMY pretty regularly, as the company allows - Jungkook went kind of crazy with it before enlistment so we have to go through them for access now."
     You had no idea what a v-live was, but from what little you had seen of Jungkook, you could imagine it took very little for him to get up to a significant amount of shenanigans. You smirked.
     "Did you have so little time for those things before?" you queried.
     "No! No way. It was like running non-stop for ten years. During my time in the military, I got a bit of a break and a change, but then I got sick and had to be discharged early, so...well, I didn't even get to experience that like I should have."
     You felt your hands tighten in response around his forearms. His life hadn't been cake-walk either, that was clear. You wondered if he knew that, if he acknowledged it.
     "Well, I'm glad you have more time for those things. You should keep as much time for them as you can, even when you're better."
     He paused for a moment before whispering agreement into your hair. You felt it even though he didn't say it, the caveat - if he got better. He would. You'd never make him a promise you couldn't guarantee, but you could make one to yourself. So you did.
     For the rest of the session you talked about Bangtan, and the recent history of the group's situation.
     You learned about conscription and that it applied to idols as well. You learned the members had decided to enlist pretty much around the same time so that they could reunite to tour again after being discharged. Namjoon had been released ahead of schedule when he had fallen ill, and at this point most of the members had followed, save Yoongi who was set to be discharged the following week. He fondly reported that they were all anxious to meet you, and that Jungkook and Jimin hadn't stopped pestering him with all manner of questions in your regard since their visit the previous day.
     Every time you had heard him speak about his members, the deep brotherly affection that permeated his words was incredibly evident. 
You asked him to tell you about each one, and he did.
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     You blinked your eyes open as you felt Namjoon shift you in his arms. You slowly pulled yourself forward, struggling to focus.
     "I...I'm sorry," you murmured, "I fell asleep on you again." 
     Namjoon chuckled and assured you it was quite alright. As you wearily slipped off the mattress to stand, you suddenly felt the room tilt and your knees buckle. Namjoon's reflexes were quick enough to catch you in his arms. He stood to pull you up and hold you against him.
     "You okay?" he asked in concern.
     "I...I got dizzy..."
     You attempted to put your weight into your legs, but failed, sagging weakly against his broad frame.
     Nurse Cha was already in motion.
     "Help her to the bed," she ordered, striding across the room. 
     Namjoon wasted no time in scooping you up in a bridal carry to follow her. You gasped despite yourself, the sudden movement and his strength equally surprising. But every thought was fleeting as you found yourself struggling to maintain a grip on consciousness.
     You felt Namjoon lay you gently on the bed as cold, sticky monitors were pressed to your skin; heard him ask the nurse what was the matter, his voice tinged with anxiety. 
You heard him say your name.
     And then you heard nothing.
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     You groaned as you came to. Your throat felt like the Sahara and your head was pounding. Pushing yourself to sit up, you became aware of the sound of voices on the other side of the curtain. Carefully drawing your legs to the edge of the bed, you clutched your IV stand as you struggled to your feet.
     Pulling back the hanging divider, you were surprised to see Matt occupying the little couch, a cup of coffee on the low table in front of him. Namjoon sat in the opposing chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees in rapt attention as the older man spoke. It was dark out.
     "Matt," you croaked, shuffling forward.
     Namjoon's head whipped around at the sound of your voice and he sprang up, just a moment faster than his guest, striding over to take you by the arm. You faltered just a moment in your steps as his hand cradled your elbow and you felt it - his touch and what it did to you. You wanted to curl into him. You wanted him to hold you.
You gently tugged your arm away.
     "You're awake - let me call the nurse," he said, almost to himself as he moved to press the red call button. 
     You sank down beside Matt.
     "What time is it?" you asked in a husky murmur. Your friend checked his watch.
     "1:33am."
     You frowned, blinking blearily.
     "What the heck are you doing here at the hour?"
     "Well!" Matt laughed before taking a sip of his coffee, "It's nice to see you too."
     "You know what I mean..." you grumbled, rubbing your eyes.
     "He called me," he said, gesturing with his raised mug toward Namjoon, who had returned to the armchair. "Said you'd had a fainting spell."
     Your eyes followed his motion to your soulmate, who was already scanning his over you, brow furrowed and full lips pursed pensively.
     "How are you feeling?" Namjoon asked.
     You huffed out a mirthless chuckle.
     "Like I got hit by a freight train."
     The worry lines on his brow deepened.
     "Hey, look..." you held up a hand to wave it weakly between both men as they regarded you in apparent concern. "I'm probably just adjusting to the bond or something. Cancer isn't contagious, you know," you ribbed, shooting a tiny smirk at Namjoon who attempted to return the expression though the smile didn't reach his eyes.
     The night shift nurse and an aid entered the room to assess you. Namjoon asked to speak with a doctor, and was told that Dr. Na would be checking in first thing in the morning. The nurse had very little else to report other than that your blood work had been sent to the lab and that they would be able to determine more once your results were available. He informed Matt that some charts would likely be available in twenty-four hours, but that your CMP could take up to three days. The aid urged you to try to get some more rest. Before departing, the nurse removed your spent sodium chloride drip and said that a meal would be sent up which you were advised to eat if possible, but to be sure to report any signs of food-rejection should they appear.
     Namjoon stood and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he gazed at your little portion of the suit.
     "They want you to rest, but how the hell are you supposed to sleep with me over here snoring? It's keeping you up, right?"
     You smirked.
     "Well, most of my rest over the last couple of days has been due to a lack of consciousness, but I do have to admit that you woke me up a couple of times last night."
    Namjoon groaned discomfitedly.
     "It really isn't a big deal!" you reassured him, "I'm a pretty sound sleeper."
     "And still I woke you up."
     "Don't worry about it..."
     "It's not just that, though," he insisted, hands in the pockets of his sweats and head cocked to one side as he continued to consider the small space across from his. "You don't even have a window. If you want privacy, you have to sit behind that curtain in the tiny bed -- I hate it. I've hated it since they were first preparing for you to arrive. I'll make some calls tomorrow. You need your own room," he stated decidedly, returning to the chair across from you.
He fished his phone out of his pocket and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he fired off a message.
     Namjoon did have a point, it was a pretty meager space you currently occupied. But they must have had a reason, you thought, for wanting you to share a room with him. And you didn't want to cause any kind of fuss in the name of personal convenience that might detract from his treatment or recovery. 
     "Namjoon, it's fine..."
     He looked up at you, his brown eyes assured and determined.
     "Just let me handle it. I've got you."
     A sudden warmth spread through your chest like the rising sun on the frost of your anxieties, his gaze melting away the familiar worry of burdensomeness. You looked away shyly.
     "Good man," Matt said to him with a nod, and they shared a look as your soulmate nodded in return that seemed to be one of mutual masculine respect. You wanted to roll your eyes a little bit. You also felt pretty damn grateful.
     Matt stood to leave, pressing a kiss on your temple and promised that he'd return in the morning. He paused to shake Namjoon's hand.
     "If there are any further developments, don't hesitate to call me," he said, to which the younger man nodded in agreement.
     "Or I can call you!" you rasped after him as he raised his hand in one last gesture of farewell while shutting the door.
     You huffed.
     "Smart guy," Namjoon remarked, sitting back down in his chair. "You know he's read Toegye exhaustively?"
     You raised a brow at him, your lips quirking with a wry grin.
     "Two peas in a pod. He's probably going to be coming around here nonstop until he leaves just so you two can gab in genius."
     Namjoon smiled and touched his fingers absently to his jaw, his eyes trained on the linoleum.
     "Are you bothered that I called him?" he asked abruptly, glancing up at you.
     "What? No, of course not," you reassured him with a shake of your head. "I just..." You rolled your eyes and smirked. "I'm not used to sitting around while boys decide what's best for me."
     "Aaahhh," Namjoon responded with a nod, interlacing his fingers, "Well, you've been looking out for me since you walked through that door back there, and honestly, I could get used to that..." he leaned forward a bit, "But only if I get to return the favor. You said we don't owe each other, but that doesn't mean you get to be the only one doing the giving."
     You stared at him. The only one to do the giving. The words jarred something loose inside you. You swallowed the strange feeling that threatened to well into your throat.
     Before you could respond, an aid entered with your meal. A tray loaded with dakjuk, rice, and several banchan was placed before you. It smelled fantastic, and you actually felt you could eat. You moved to take the tray to your side of the suite but Namjoon stopped you.
"Hey, wait. I'm hungry. I'll eat with you."
He crossed to the other side of the room to pick up the telephone.
"Go ahead," he said with nod of his head a little grin, "Don't wait on me."
     He didn't have to twist your arm. The chicken porridge was steaming and savory, warming you up within just a few bites. A similar tray soon arrived for Namjoon, and you found it did feel far nicer to eat with someone than alone.
     Between bites he asked you about Matt.
     "He's my dad's best friend. When he died - my dad - Matt and his wife Rebecca helped to take care of us for a while. They've been really good to my family."
     Namjoon's face sombered.
     "I'm sorry about your father."
     You smiled softly at him.
     "It was a long time ago, when I was ten. He was a firefighter."
     He nodded quietly, giving you the opening to continue. You decided to take it.
     "A fire broke out at a high-security prison. The situation got really bad with a lot of people still inside - prisoners. They told the team to stop attempting rescues, that it wasn't worth it, for people like that. But my dad kept going. Alone. He saved seventeen more lives before...well, he couldn't make it out."
     When you looked up at Namjoon again his eyes were locked on you, his chopsticks resting idly in his hand.
     "Wow," he murmured after a pause. "And you were ten years old? That must have been so hard."
     You dragged your spoon through your dakjuk.
     "It was. But managing things after he was gone...that was harder, I think."
     Namjoon's brow knit in question but he didn't press you further. For the second time that night, you were grateful. Death was easy to explain, other things were much more difficult.
     You finished the rest of your meal chatting about Matt, Neo-Confucianism, and unequivocal humanism between mouthfuls of rice and porridge.
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      The next day, you were moved into your new suite a few doors down. Namjoon had received no resistance from the hospital in procuring you the space, as apparently Hybe's representatives had been the ones to originate the request that you be at the idol's immediate disposal.
     Your room mirrored the setup of your soulmate's, being on the same floor but across the hall, and Kang Dae had dropped in with a catalog stating that you could select whatever you wished to make the space more comfortable. You had circled a few things and he had departed to procure them. Matt had brought the bulk of your luggage, which meant a good portion of books, your art supplies, and finally more clothes which you would blessedly now have no worries of mixing up with Namjoon's. You changed into jeans and a comfy Nirvana graphic tee.
     You were busy unpacking when a knock came at your door. You called for the person to come in while you continued to stack books onto a small set of shelves. The doctor had cautioned you and Namjoon against further skinship sessions until your blood work had come back, so you were anxious for the results, not wanting him to go through another bout of chemo without the aid of the bond. 
When you glanced up expectantly, however, you found your curiosity would have to wait - at least, concerning your charts - as in the entry stood none other than Kim Hyung-seo.
     She lingered in the entryway at the mouth of the space, her arms wrapped around her middle. She looked much more casual today in a pair of big baggy camouflage cargo pants, a tight black crop top, and chunky white sneakers. Her hair was pulled up into a bun, and she had black mask pulled under her chin. She was bare-faced, save for two small red dots under her right eye.
     You stood from your crouched position, trying your best to keep the surprise from your face.
     "Hi," you greeted her with a small smile, which she returned remorsefully, still hugging herself as she glanced around the room. "Would you like to sit down?" you offered, motioning to the furniture beside you. 
     She nodded, crossing over to take a seat in the little arm chair. You moved to sit across from her. Your first instinct was to offer her something to drink, only to realize you were in a hospital room with no way to deliver, at which you both laughed awkwardly. After a moment of tense silence, she looked up at you, gnawing her bottom lip.
     “I owe you an apology," she sighed. 
You gave her an encouraging smile.
     "Fuck..." she dropped her head in her hands, and you waited for her to collect herself. Finally, she raises her eyes to yours, interlacing her fingers with their long white nails in her lap. 
     "What I did...what I said yesterday...I was cunt. I'm sorry." 
     You let out a little laugh at her choice of words.
     "Well, I do accept your apology...but, don't be too hard on yourself. It was a really bizarre and unprecedented situation for all of us. I'm glad we're moving forward, and in a better direction."
You smiled again at her reassuringly.
     She nodded, her lips pursed and quivering slightly. You could tell she was blinking back tears.
     "Me and Joon...we'd only been engaged for a few weeks before we found out...you know, that he had a match. That it could be his only option to live - bonding. With you. It's just all really fucking scary."
     You nodded sympathetically. She released another sigh as she continued.
     "He had to decide so fast, they pushed him to just make this huge life commitment as fast as they fucking could and now..." She raised her arms, looking around the room in resign, "Here we are. And we have to figure everything out, and I'm about to leave and..."
     "I'm sorry," you murmured sympathetically.
She looked down into her lap, worry still twisting her features.
You wondered why she was leaving, now of all times - when things were the way they were. But that wasn't for you to judge.
"You know," you offered hopefully, "At least he's on the mend. At least you know he'll have someone to look after him."
     She hummed. You wondered if it was an agreement as her eyes flitted over your face searchingly. Anxiety from the previous day's encounter began to seep into your chest as you considered if you had chosen your words poorly. You had said what would have comforted you in under the same circumstances. But maybe you were different - too different.
You softened your heart, determined to reserve judgement. Life had given Hyung-seo had her own shoes, and you would do everything you could to understand what it was like to walk in them.
     "Can I add you on KakaoTalk?" you asked, realizing you were still clutching a book, and setting it onto the low table to pull your phone from your pocket.
     She was chewing on her lip again when you looked up. She stared down at the hardback. 
     "You read a lot, huh?" she asked, though it didn't sound like a question.
     "I do," you answered slowly, wondering where her train of thought was headed.
"All that stuff you said yesterday, you seem, like really in tune with people. And smart. You guys are, like, the same."
She pressed the words out in a strained voice. She looked so small and so sad. Your heart sank for her.
"Namjoon actually said that very thing about you yesterday."
She glanced up at you in surprise and confusion. You smiled.
"He said that when you met he was struck with how much you shared in how you saw the world, and how you approached music."
She regarded you silently as you continued.
"And that's your life right, your great love? Music? What a wonderful thing, to base your life with a partner in a love you share."
She nodded slowly, her eyes watering.
"Thank you," she finally whispered, and you nodded in understanding.
You reached out to take her hand and she squeezed yours. After a few moments of silence, she rose and wiped her eyes.
     "I'm leaving tomorrow and I want to see Joon again before I go," she explained. 
     You nodded.
     "Thank you for coming to talk to me and for sharing about how this has been for you. I really appreciate it."    
     She smiled - perhaps genuinely for the first time since you met. It was a lovely smile.
     You sighed as she left. It wasn't much, but it was progress. Maybe she would let you in. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard after all.
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     When several hours had passed with no updates on your lab results, you decided to take a walk down the hall to see how your soulmate was faring. You knocked on his door, but received no answer. 
     "Namjoon!" you called softly with another rap of your knuckles, but were still met with silence.
     Just when you were about to turn and go, the door creaked inward on its hinges, slipping open to reveal your soulmate's tired face.
     "I just came to see how you were doing...are you okay?." 
     You followed him as he slumped back into the suite, but before he could even reach his bed he turned and pushed past you to hurry into the bathroom. It caught you a little off-guard and you stumbled, catching yourself on the opposing wall, but quickly realized the reason for his urgency when sounds of retching followed.
     The bathroom door was cracked open and you could see him hunched over the toilet, breathing heavily as his body wracked with each attempt to expel the contents of his stomach. You hesitated a moment, then pushed the door in slowly, coming to kneel beside him and gingerly place a hand on his back.
     He raised his head, eyes fluttering when you touched him. You gently pulled your palm up and down his spine, feeling the warm surge of the bond even through his shirt. He reached for a piece of toilet paper to wipe his mouth.
     "You don't have to do that..." he murmured, resting his forehead on his arm propped on the porcelain rim.
     "I know," you answered quietly, continuing to slowly rub his back. "Can I put my hand under your shirt?"
     "You're not supposed to be touching me until we know what's going on with you." 
     You slipped your other hand out to curl your fingers around his exposed bicep below the sleeve of his tee. He sighed, shoulders sagging as the comfort and warmth of the contact soothed his aching body.
     "Can I?" you softly persisted, and he nodded his head where it laid against his forearm.
     Slipping your hand beneath the baggy cotton you ran your fingers over his soft, taut skin, heart squeezing at the definition of his spine and the ghosts of his ribs. 
     "Did you do chemo without me?" you asked.
     “I've been doing it before you got here, you know,” he retorted weakly.
     "How are you supposed to gain weight if it makes you this sick? Please don't do it again without me."
     "You passed out, Y/n," he shifted his head to look at you.
     "We'll figure that out," you smiled, "But you need to be as agreeable to these treatments as possible, right?" 
     He nodded.
     "Hyung-seo paid me a visit this morning," you remarked after a moment of silence.
     "She told me."
     "Said she leaves for her tour tomorrow. When does she get back?"
     "February."
     "Of next year?" You paused to temper your shock, "That's a long time."
     "It's a world tour. That's how it goes."
     "Wow."
     You realized for the hundredth time in as many hours that there was so much about their lifestyle to which you were ignorant. You had so much to learn, but one thing you did know: he needed you right now, so you stayed by his side until the sickness had subsided.
     Nurse Cha arrived shortly after to conduct routine checks on Namjoon, and you sat by, thumbing through the latest issue of Batman and Robin which Matt had been kind enough to drop off with your things.
     "Your initial blood work came back with some concerns," she said, turning to you and picking up her tablet to access the results. "There are signs that your body's nutrients are being depleted. Since your fainting spells have been occuring during skinship, we ask that you refrain from touching until your CMP comes back."
     Namjoon glanced over at you, a chiding expression on his features. You flatly ignored him.
     "I need to be able to touch him, especially if he feels ill. He needs to keep down his food, right?"
     Nurse Cha hummed, pursing her lips.
     "Well, I'm going to run this by Dr. Na, but if absolutely necessary, keep it light and brief. And please be sure to document even the smallest instances of skinship so that we can track the effects."
     You agreed readily, and she left to continue her rounds. 
Glancing out the window, you noted that the evening was mild, and the gardens were aflutter with birds and awash in soft late-afternoon light. You thought about what the nurse had said before about the fresh air.
     "Hey," you remarked, still looking out the window, "We should take a walk - it looks so nice out. You up for it?" 
     "Great idea," he replied, joining you to look out across the greenery. "I'm definitely feeling up for it." He huffed out a little chuckle.
     "What?" you asked suspiciously. You were beginning to recognize his different laughs - this particular chuckle was always at your expense.
     "Gonna keep pushing it with the poor nurse, huh?"
     You scoffed.
     "Well, if I hadn't would you be feeling well enough to go out right now?"
     "No."
     When you glanced up you found that he was gazing raptly at you, his face filled with unchecked thanksgiving. Your witty response faltered on your tongue. 
     His touch, you were pretty damn sure that for the rest of his natural life you would never grow used to it...but his eyes? It was almost the same. Was this part of the bond? Or was it just...him? Did everyone feel this way when he held them in those eyes? When he looked at them, really looked...
You couldn't tear your eyes away. You couldn't find words.
     When Namjoon's phone suddenly buzzed you thanked almighty Samsung and sagged against the window pane. 
     "Damn," he muttered. 
     You looked at him questioningly.
     "I have a consultation with my radiation oncologist in ten minutes. Go ahead! I'll meet you down there right after."
     He pulled a sweatshirt over his head and changed his slippers out for his shoes.
     You returned to your room to grab outerwear as well. The evening was temperate enough to go without, but you were feeling chillier than usual. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket.
     Mom flashed across the screen.
     Your chest tightened and you silenced the ringer. You'd call her tomorrow, you told yourself. Besides, she had already spoken to Matt. 
     When you reached the garden, you decided there was someone you should call while you waited. Ambling down a gravel path, you held the phone up to your ear, stuffing your other hand into the pocket of your jean jacket.
     "Matt told mom that you passed out - are you okay?" Diana's voice on the other end registered genuine distress.
     You rolled your eyes and sighed. 
     "I'm fine. My body is just adjusting to the bond and probably jet lag and whatnot."
     "You better fucking be fine or I'm coming out there to make sure you are."
     You laughed. 
     "To South Korea? On a Wednesday?"
     "You know what I mean, god! You're so - hey! How did the fiancee thing go?"
     "I knew you'd want an update."
     "Spill."
     You sighed.
     "Uh-oh," she hummed, "That was your, things-are-an-effing-disaster sigh."
     "It was no- why do you keep trying to divine my air flow like they're casting-runes or something? Will you just let me tell you?"
     "You don't always say."
     You huff in exasperation.
     "Okay, well, I won't tell you what that sigh is," she mumbles in trepidation, "But I will tell you that I know enough to shut up and let you continue. Go on."
     "It didn't go swimmingly."
     "Fuck."
     "Yeah,” You lifted your fingers to absently stroke at the petal of a rose. “She seemed very frightened by the whole situation, which is completely understandable. But then...she also kind of came at me. She started asking pretty intimate stuff about the bond right off the bat. When I tried to redirect by suggesting we get to know each other better she started saying all this stuff she already knew about me. About Dad and Mom."
     "What?!" Diana gasped incredulously.
     "It was almost as if...I don't know, I could have been reading her incorrectly, but it was almost seemed as if she was trying to bring things up that might knock me off my footing. Make me...insecure." 
     You suddenly remembered your conversation with Namjoon the previous night. He hadn’t let on that he had already known your father passed when you were a child...but he had known. Passing out during skinship had gotten in the way of the conversation you had intended to broach with him about knowledge of the other. You had done research before meeting him, but only the basics. You had felt that as much should come from him as possible. Clearly you hadn’t been given that opportunity.
     "That bitch," Diana seethed, pulling your mind back into the moment.
     "Hey, hey, hey," you cautioned her, "She's in a extremely difficult situation. And that was just my biased impression of her intentions. Don't be too quick to judge her, Di."
     Diana hummed discontentedly.
     "Also, she came to apologize to me today before she leaves on tour. We made progress, I think."
     "Apologizing? Bare minimum," Diana said with an air of dismissal. "What did you say her name was?"
     "Kim Hyung-seo. Her stage name is Bibi."
     Diana was silent for a moment. 
     "Found her," she declared. 
     You smiled to yourself - of course she had found her, the woman was famous. It wasn't as if stalking measures were necessary (though you had no doubt of Diana's abilities should that have been the case).
Diana clicked her tongue in disappointment.
     "She's hot."
     "She is very pretty," you agreed.
     "Yeah, but you're hot too. And, y'kow, you're you. Bet you're smarter..."
     "Di," you said, stopping to pinch your brow, "We're not in some kind of competition. We're both just human beings navigating pretty uncharted waters, okay? We both have our strengths and weaknesses. She's going to be part of my life as Namjoon's wife, so not only is building a good relationship with her important to me, I have a responsibility to her as well. We all do. To each other."
     Your sister paused on the other end before relenting sullenly.
     "Yeah, yeah. I guess you're right - you do need to make nice with her...as long as they're married, that is..."
     "DIANA."
     "Okay! Geez!" Diana cleared her throat. "How is the soulmate doing?"
     "He's getting stronger every day," you answered, happily moving the topic away from Hyung-seo.
     "That's great!" she crooned. 
     "It is."
     "Are you smiling? You sound like you're smiling."
     "How are you doing, Di? Classes are starting soon."
     You smirked as your sister's attention surged in a new direction, and for the next half an hour she regaled you with tales of her new housemates, and the smarmy and unseemly Johnnie (who had come crawling back, as predicted, upon returning to the States). 
     Upon hanging up with Diana, you checked the time, and discovered that it had been nearly an hour since you left Namjoon. You were starting to feel weak, and a bit cold - hunger, you told yourself - so you decided to return indoors for dinner.
     You called Namjoon on the way up to the fifth floor to inform him if your change in plans. He apologized profusely, saying that the doctor had been detained, and asked you to join him for dinner.
Letting yourself into his suite, you shrugged your jacket off as you headed for your usual spot on the couch when, suddenly, you froze.
    A man was rising to stand from where he had been seated on the sofa. He was clad in a dark blue button-down with a golden emblem on the shoulder and black slacks. He wore a black cap which bore a similar insignia to the one on his shirt and fit snugly over his short dark hair. He wasn’t as tall as Namjoon, though his shoulders were nearly as wide. His features were soft but arresting, and his deep brown irises, you thought, seemed to hold a bit of everything a pair of eyes could. Your comic book was in his hand.
You crossed the room toward him.
     "Hi, I’m sorry, Namjoon will be here soon - oh, I'm his soulmate, Y/n," you stammered, before catching yourself.
     The young man's sharp eyes widened, his lips parting as you bowed.
     "Je ireum-eun Y/n imnida," you started over in Korean.
     He bowed in return, raising his dark brown eyes to you again as he responded in a soft deep voice.
     "Annyeonghaseyo, je ireum-eun Min Yoongi imnida."
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joelalorian · 13 days
Text
Fall Into Me - Chapter Two: It All Turned Around
dbf!Joel x f!reader
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Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.
Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.
Word Count: 2.6k
Series Warnings: Mature to start, but will ultimately be Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. There will be angst, drama, fluff, humor, romance, smut... basically, the works. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname from her dad, which is explained in this chapter.
Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics
Thank you for reading this little tale! I did not expect all the love the first chapter received - my heart is fit to burst!
Chapter One | Main Masterlist
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Chapter Two: It All Turned Around
You walked the few blocks over to Joel’s house on Monday morning, ready to start your new gig as Sarah’s… babysitter wasn’t the right word. Nanny? Au pair? Nah, that didn’t work either. Whatever, the wording did not matter. You were helping Joel out by taking care of his daughter when he couldn’t, that’s what mattered. Jeez, you thought as you walked along the sleepy neighborhood sidewalk, you were one step away from talking to herself aloud like a mad woman.
When you finally reached Joel’s house, already damp with sweat from the lingering heat, climbing the porch steps to the front door with your eyes glued to Joel’s truck, you realized the flaw in this arrangement.
You didn’t have a car.
How the hell were you supposed to take the kid to and from school without a car?
How did you not realize this sooner?
Knuckles rapping on the door, your teeth worried your plump bottom lip as you considered your options. Admit to the gorgeous single father relying on you to help with his precious daughter that you were a complete flake. Sneakily order an Uber with the hope that Sarah will keep her mouth shut about it. Or just buy a car off one of those online dealers and hope it gets delivered in time.
Those options weren’t great, but what the hell else did you have to work with?
The door finally opened to reveal a frazzled Joel, tee shirt inside out and dark curls mussed. A giggle bubbled out before you could stop it.
“Mornin’ darlin’,” Joel greeted, his lips tilting upwards at the sight of you while his free hand attempted to tame his wild curls. “Come on in. We’re runnin’ a little behind schedule this morning.”
“Good morning, Joel.” Your eyes drank him in. Even in his disheveled state he was gorgeous. If anything, the harried morning look made him even more endearing.
He stepped aside to let you in, glancing to the driveway then the curb. “Where’s your car? Did you walk here?” he questioned, confused.
And just like that, the pleasant feeling of seeing him again washed away in embarrassment. You almost forgot about the car situation again. “Yeah, ‘bout that. I don’t actually have a car.” You could practically see the wheels turning behind his dark chocolate eyes as he stared at you.
Finally, Joel’s head bobbed in a nod as he led you into the kitchen. “Okay, we can make it work. Tommy is on his way over and I’ll just hitch a ride to work with him. You can use my truck for running Sarah around.”
“You sure?” you questioned doubtfully. “I’m sorry, it didn’t occur to me that I don’t have wheels until I was standing on your porch.”
Waving off your apologetic concern, Joel called for Sarah to come down for breakfast. Turning back to you, he smiled, the scruff of his beard barely concealing a delightful little dimple. “Don’t worry about it. Just use my truck when you’re on duty until we figure something else out. It’s not like I need it when I’m stuck on a job site all day.”
“Well, thanks for being understanding, and so kind,” you replied, feeling a little overwhelmed by how wonderful Joel was being.
Sarah appeared at your side as Joel dug in his pocket for his keys, throwing her arms around your waist. “You’re here!”
“I am!” You hugged the little girl to your side with a laugh, surprised to see Joel’s warm gaze on you when you looked up. There was something in his expression that you couldn’t decipher.
“Here are my keys – this one is for the truck, obviously, and this one is for the front door. Don’t mind the other ones,” he said after clearing his throat, a slight flush spreading across his cheeks. “I’ll get a spare house key made this week so you can come and go as you please. You have my cell number, so call me if you run into any problems with the truck or anything else.”
Once Sarah was seated at the table with a bowl of cereal, Joel filled you in on a few other details pertaining to Sarah’s weekday routine and where anything you might need was located in the house.
“Drop off at 8:30, pick up at 3, homework before play, and don’t let her snack too much before dinner,” you summarized his instructions. “I got it. I can make dinner, too, if you’d like.”
Dark eyes flashed with a hint of something indecipherable again as Joel smiled. “You don’t have to do that unless I’m gonna be real late. I’ll call or text to let you know when I expect to get home each day.”
“Sounds good.” Your finger traced random patterns on the countertop as you watched the Millers go about their morning routine and you wondered if you should say something about his tee shirt. You didn’t want to embarrass the guy, but it would be rude not to let him know, right? What was the protocol here? If it was you, you’d want to know before leaving the house, right?
Before you could decide what to do, Tommy came bursting through the front door, boisterous voice calling out for his brother. “Come on, man. We gotta get rollin’!”
Joel rolled his eyes to you as Tommy came to a halt in the kitchen, the younger brother’s smile widening when his eyes raked over you. “Well, hello again, gorgeous.”
“Hey Tommy,” you greeted in return, glancing between the two brothers. Where Joel was broad and brooding, Tommy was lithe and energetic, and flirty to a fault. Both were handsome, but Tommy had ‘player’ written all over him. He was the exact type of guy that you avoided getting entangled with – the overconfident, love ‘em and leave ‘em type.
Growing tired of his brother gawking at you, Joel grumbled. “Alright, stop flirting, Tommy. It’s time to go.” Dropping his empty coffee cup in the sink, he turned back to you. “Call me if you need anything, darlin’.”
You nodded with a smile, watching the brothers kiss Sarah goodbye.
“Your shirt’s on inside out, asshole,” Tommy blurted out suddenly causing Joel’s cheeks to pinken. “God dammit,” he muttered, tugging the shirt over his head to set it right.
Unable to tear your gaze away from the glimpse of broad chest and slightly soft tummy, you jolted when something bumped your shoulder. Snapping your head to the side, you frowned at Tommy’s beaming grin. “Ah, I see how it is,” he said cryptically, the grin never leaving his lips.
“What?” you asked, baffled, mind still flooded with the image of a briefly shirtless Joel. The brothers were gone before you could shake your head clear.
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Joel’s truck was ornery, you learned quickly. Stomp too hard on the gas pedal and it stalled. Don’t step hard enough on the pedal and it made funny noises while going nowhere fast. Brake too hard and it squealed. Don’t brake hard enough and, well, then you’d crash, obviously. It was a damn Goldilocks truck, but you adapted quickly, making sure you could get Sarah to and from school safely.
God, could you imagine if your first call ever to Joel was to tell him you crashed his truck and put his daughter in danger – or worse yet, she got hurt? That would be beyond awful!
By the afternoon, you and the truck had come to a grudging agreement. You would treat it nicely and it would do what you wanted it to. That was another sign you were losing your mind, right? Coming to agreements with inanimate objects? It was getting sad. You needed a life, some human socialization, for fucks sake.
“Hey nugget!” you called to Sarah, spotting her bouncing down the steps of the front entrance to the K-8 school. It was the very one you applied to earlier in the day, hoping to take over for a science teacher retiring at the end of the year.
“Hey! That’s what my dad calls me!” the little girl declared as she came to a halt in front of you.
“I know! It’s such a cool nickname, much better than the one my dad gave me,” you laughed and opened the passenger door, watching her scramble into the seat like a pro. Satisfied with the security of Sarah’s seatbelt, you jogged around to the driver’s side and hopped up into the truck.
“What’s your nickname?” Sarah asked as you started the truck with an encouraging pat on the dash.
“Spud,” you groaned, voice barely louder than the rumble of the truck’s engine.
Sarah’s brow furrowed and her cute little nose scrunched up. “Spud? Why does your dad call you that?”
“Ugh, the way he tells it, I was a really chunky baby. ‘Round like a potato’ he said. He didn’t like the thought of calling me ‘potato’ so, the nickname spud was born. I’ve hated it every day, but my dad loves it, so I tolerate it for his sake.”
Sarah listened to your explanation with rapt attention. “Yeah, I can see why you like mine better. I’ll make sure to never call you spud. Maybe we can come up with something better?”
“Thanks, kid! I’d like that.”
The rest of the ride back to Joel’s house was quiet as you focused on driving and Sarah bobbed her head to some tune she hummed. Once you pulled to a careful stop in the driveway, the little girl turned into a chatterbox, recounting every moment of her day as you led the way inside and prepared a small snack.
“Fourth grade is quite the adventure, I see,” you said when she finally stopped to nibble at an apple slice. “I don’t remember it being quite that much fun.”
There wasn’t any homework to assist with, but Sarah insisted on showing you all the A grades she got on her work from last week. She preened under your undivided attention, and you encouraged her to keep working hard.
The two of you were in the midst of playing some Lego video game when your phone buzzed with a text from Joel letting you know he was on his way home. The job site wasn’t far, and he walked through the door before 5 pm to find you and Sarah giggling as you bashed away at things in the video game. You were both laying on the floor, knees bent, and heads perched on throw pillows from the couch as you stared up at the TV. Neither of you even noticed him come in and he smiled at the precious moments he had to take in how genuinely happy Sarah was in your company.
Sarah caught sight of him first, pausing the game and rushing over to hug him. He eyed you as he hugged his daughter, his exhausted gaze silently thanking you for taking care of his entire world.
“Would you like to stay for dinner?” he asked, kicking off his boots before stepping farther into the house. “I was gonna order pizza.”
Tempted to say yes just to spend more time with him, you declined knowing they had limited father-daughter time. “Thank you, though. I should get back to my house to finish the paperwork for transferring my teaching certification. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Joel escorted you to the door, watching as you descended the porch steps and strolled down the sidewalk until you were out of sight.
The next few weeks followed the same pattern with you staying late a few nights a week or covering a Saturday when Joel was stuck on a job site. You started making dinner most evenings. Whether he made it home early or late, he always seemed exhausted, and you wanted to ease his burden as much as possible. You might have also wondered how many home-cooked meals the pair actually ate when Joel was left in charge of dinner.
You bought a car off another one of your dad’s buddies – a no nonsense sedan just to get you around town with Sarah safely. Some days, while Sarah was at school, you would even do Joel’s food shopping, knowing that he liked to shop at the bulk stores to save money.
Soon, you found yourself staying longer after Joel got home, eager to spend time with him and watch him be a dad. He was such a good one, much like your own, always giving Sarah his full attention and speaking to her with respect and making sure she felt heard. It left you in awe of the man he was and your burgeoning crush quickly, and quite by accident, developed into an affectionate longing for something you couldn’t have.
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“How’s it going with Spud?” your dad asked, taking a swig from the bottle of beer in his hand. Seated at a table on the Miller’s back patio with Joel and Tommy, the men enjoyed a few after-work beers as you and Sarah sat together in the grass nearby.
“Why do you call her that, JB? I always wondered.” Joel questioned in return, curiosity finally getting to him.
You dad laughed, the memories of you as a baby always brought a smile to his face. “She was the chunkiest little potato as a baby, all round with the cutest chipmunk cheeks. The nickname spud just popped into my head and stuck from day one.”
Joel’s chestnut eyes flicked over to watch you during your dad’s explanation, a bubble of guilty warmth building in his gut. He found you immediately attractive when you first met, but now, nearly a month into getting to know and spend time with you, a strong affectionate attraction began to develop. It was wholly against his will, too. You were JB’s daughter – his best friend aside from his brother – and therefore off limits.
Surely him lusting after you broke some guy code, right?
Maybe he just needed to get laid. That would set him straight.
As if reading his mind, JB changed the subject. “Now that you have some help with Sarah, maybe it’s time to get back into the dating world. You need the love of a good woman, son.”
“Yeah, how long’s it been since you had a girlfriend, brother?” Tommy chimed in with a smirk. “A decade?”
The younger brother merely chuckled in response to Joel’s scowl. “I’ve dated, just none of them were good enough to bring home,” he replied, a rough edge to his deep voice. “Sarah’s always come first.”
“As she should.” JB nodded. “I know it ain’t easy being a single dad, but you have to make some room and time for yourself otherwise you’ll go crazy.”
Your dad went on to share some of his experiences with dating as a single dad and how you practically begged him to find a girlfriend when you were a teenager, just so he’d give you some space. After a short while, JB and the Miller men were laughing so hard their eyes were watering. At one point, Joel caught you watching them with a tender smile on your lips and his heart skipped a beat.
“Okay, I guess it’s time to put myself out there,” Joel admitted, forcing his gaze away from you.
“Yeah? I know someone who’d love to go on a date with you!” Tommy declared excitedly, turning to JB. “You know Annica over at the lumber yard? She’s been gagging over this one for ages. I’ll text her to set something up for Saturday night.”
“Sounds like it’s settled then. You’re going on a date, son!”
Joel’s brow furrowed, glancing between your dad and Tommy wondering if he just made a huge mistake.
tbc
Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx @pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel
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nerdestiwrites · 13 days
Text
call to the devil and the devil will come
The rest of the hotel had gone to sleep hours prior, the last to return to their rooms having been Charlie and Vaggie, strictly because Vaggie had practically forced the Princess to bed. Charlie had tried to argue, to say that she wasn’t tired, that she could stay up, that if her father was staying up then so could she. Vaggie had none of it, picking up the blonde and carrying her up to the bed as the exhausted princess half struggled against her girlfriend. All the while Lucifer watched from the bar, shouting a goodnight to his little girl and her girlfriend.
The bartender, Rusk, Busk, Nusk, something of that sort, had gone to bed just twenty minutes earlier after the King had assured the demon that his assistance was no longer needed. The cat seemed hesitant about leaving the bar unattended, about leaving his job when clearly Lucifer had no intentions of going to bed, but didn’t argue much past a few grunts and small mutters about how it wasn’t his problem now he was off the clock.
He sat at the bar, two fingers holding onto a thin straw as they stirred around the contents of the nearly empty drink. He hadn’t meant to drink, he was a sloppy drunk and knew that much, but Charlie wanted to celebrate now that the hotel had been rebuilt. She wanted everyone to celebrate, and so he agreed because now that he was back with his daughter, he wouldn’t do anything to disappoint her again. He couldn’t let himself drift back into the haze of never knowing what day it was, letting information just pass by him rather than taking it in and understanding it, of letting himself drift away from her again. He wouldn’t let that happen.
The look on Charlie's face when she realized that Alastor wouldn’t be joining the celebrations, was an excuse, Lucifer knew it was an excuse, about needing to prepare for one of his radio shows, or maybe he had said something about a meeting with someone, or something, it didn’t matter in the end. What had mattered was the disappointment on Charlie's face. Lucifer would absolutely not let that disappointment last on his daughter's face.
So he immediately did what he did best. Distraction. He kicked Husk out from behind the bar, having told him that even the bartender deserved a drink sometimes, and began making everyone a specialized drink. A cotton candy martini for Angel Dust, a muddled blackberry old fashioned for Husk, a cherry flavored Vegas bomb for Cherri, a simple spiked strawberry lemonade for Vaggie, and a rubber duckie-themed drink for Charlie. 
A handful of drinks later, and soon Charlie begged for him to drink with them. He tried to argue, even tried to make a mocktail for himself, but that damned cat bartender saw right through it. And so he had a few cocktails as well, and his mixing became less structured, no longer measured, and more of a free pour, which led to way too strong of drinks. The rest was a blurry mess he struggled to keep straight in his head, and now he sat alone, an empty glass with ice melting and a straw stirring it around.
As he stared into the empty glass, the devil let his head rest in his free hand, eyes closing momentarily as he took in a deep breath. Sleep wasn’t something that found him often, and he’d rather do anything besides lay in bed and stare at the wall or ceiling while his mind spun in the fuzzy state it was in currently. That would definitely be a one-way street to spiraling and he had been doing so well at staying focused and keeping his head on straight. If he spiraled now he might leave the hotel, and if he left, he knew he wouldn’t have the energy to return again. 
So Lucifer stood, stumbled, grabbed onto the edge of the bar, and groaned for a moment as the room spun around him. Sitting on the floor sounded like a good idea but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get up and what a state to find the King of Hell. No, he couldn’t do that either. It would be at least somewhat respectable if he passed out on the couch inside the parlor of the hotel rather than the floor. 
He forced himself to stand straight, focused his eyes on the couch in the near distance, and moved his legs. He kicked his apple cane, sending it to the floor and rolling away but he couldn’t have cared less about the item. No, he had a goal in mind. Couch. Make it to the couch. His hand moved, his angelic power working without his mind helping, and a small plain rubber duck appeared clutched in his hand. 
He squeaked the duck once, then twice, focus. It helped him focus as much as he hated to admit it, even in the drunken state, and he made it to the couch. Lucifer allowed himself to practically fall face-first into the couch, his entire body fitting along the length of it and he groaned. Perhaps he should’ve eaten before drinking so much, perhaps he should’ve been a bit more firm in his no.
The king really should’ve been better. Better than this, better for his daughter. He shouldn’t have just locked himself away, isolating himself from everyone. That did nothing but hurt Charlie, even if he had thought it was the best thing to do. Now there was a strain between him and her and he wasn’t sure he could ever fix it. He needed to fix it. He needed to. Needed to. 
He needed to have something in the background. Music, a show, a podcast, something to keep his mind focused and not spiraling. A squeak of his duck and he sat up on the couch, eyes searching for a remote or a TV or something. Instead, they found an old radio, one of Alastors radios, and a low grumble escaped his lips. Spiraling might be better than using that demon's radio for anything. 
A squeak of his duck told him otherwise and he sighed. Damn, his mind. Damnit it.
A wave of his hand and the radio turned on. Static filled the room and Lucifer the empty hand over his face before reaching over to fiddle with the knobs on the damned ancient relic, not like he had a lot of room to actually say those words out loud. He wasn’t one to usually want to watch TV, it scrambled the brain, and he was much older than the old radio was.
Turning the dial a few times to the left, and then to the right, the devil settled on a frequency that had been playing soft jazz. The music filled the air and he allowed his head to fall back against the couch as he listened, focusing on the different instruments that he could pick out and recognize. Perhaps if he could sit here long enough, he could get past the drunkenness and skip right past the hangover. Wishful thinking, drunk wishful thinking, but still. The king might not have many hopes left, let this be one that he knew was silly.
The radio started to glitch, or rather, it sounded like someone had turned the dial, interrupting the jazz and filling the room with static. An annoyed look crossed Lucifer's face and he looked up at the small radio. The dial was still pointed at the direction he had left it, but the static continued to get louder and more intense. He frowned, eyebrows furrowed, and he reached forward, turned the dial, and nothing. It remained the same. He groaned audibly now and sat up once more, the duck dropping from his hand and rolling underneath the couch. The radio suddenly shut off.
“Hahaha! What a sight to see! Truly!” The voice with the radio filter over it filled the silence and Lucifer's head snapped in its direction.
There stood Alastor, hands clasped behind his back as he leaned forward over the couch, staring down at the King. The fallen angel growled and went to grab onto the demon, however in his drunken state he had been too slow, or perhaps he overestimated how far he needed to grab, or maybe it was a mixture of both, and he ended up tumbling over the back of the couch onto the floor. A laugh track filled the air and Lucifer could feel the anger and embarrassment flowing through him more. The alcohol inside his system fueled his emotions. 
“You-” The King started as he pulled himself up off the floor, using the couch for support before whipping to face the demon once more. “You are so fucking lucky that Charlie cares for you. I would-would fuck you so hard.” His words slurred and he stumbled to find the words he wanted to say, and even when he wasn’t drunk he had a difficult time saying what he actually meant.
The Radio demon, who now stood a few feet away from the devil, raised an eyebrow, his smile tightening slightly as his head turned to the side slightly, mockingly. He stood there staring at Lucifer with that stupid face, mocking him. Oh, how he would love to wipe that smile off of the other's face.
Alastor stepped to the side as Lucifer rushed at him and watched the smaller man nearly trip and fall once more to the floor. He hummed, and laughed again, loud with the laugh track behind his voice. He was clearly entertained by the devil's inebriated state, which pissed Lucifer off even more. “Do you need help, sire?” He asked.
“Fuck you!” Lucifer snapped as he held his head, feeling a wave of nausea start to wash over him. 
“I would rather not.” Alastor mused, a taunt, and he snickered quietly. “Be careful with saying those words too loud, you might wake a certain resident who wouldn’t be so averse to spending a night with royalty.” 
That hadn’t been what he meant, the Radio demon knew that, he just wanted to get underneath the fallen angels' skin it seemed, and it was working. Lucifer's jaw clenched and he balled his hands into fists, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands before he took in a deep breath. Then he snapped his fingers, causing Alastors feet to become literally attached to the floor he was standing on.
Lucifer stalked toward him now that the other couldn’t move away and he saw Alastors eyes narrow as his smile tightened, the radio frequencies filling the air erratically. He moved the couch slightly with a wave of his hand so it was right behind the demon and then looked up at his face. The way Alastor stared down at him caused the anger to boil inside his chest more and it gave him the strength he needed. 
The apple cane suddenly appeared inside his hand and the king used it to shove Alastor, shoving him hard with the cane right in his torso, causing the other to fall over the side of the couch onto the cushions as the power holding his feet disappeared completely. 
Lucifer saw a flash of pain across the demon's face, the smile remaining couldn’t hide the pain inside the others' eyes, and for a moment he felt guilty. Then, as Lucifer stood there, stared at the demon as he laid on the couch, catching his breath, a hand over his torso, he could feel it. The fallen angel could feel the angelic energy radiating off of Alastors chest, he could feel it pulsating with every heartbeat and could feel it seeping further into the demon.
He sighed. A deep and long sigh as he realized what he had to do. The image of the disappointed face of Charlie flashing in his mind turned to one of grief and sadness. No, he wouldn’t let that happen to his little girl, he wouldn’t let that look ever cross her face again if there was anything he could do about it. 
And so, even in his drunken state, the anger had completely dissipated and had been replaced. He leaned over the side of the couch, fighting off the next wave of nausea that came rushing forth, and he stared at the demon who glared up at him. Alastor went to get off the couch, wanting to get out from under the King and get away from feeling like he was cornered, however, when he went to move, Lucifer's hand came down and touched his chest. 
A sharp radio noise came from Alastor at the touch, and Lucifer grunted. He undid the buttons on the demon's shirt and pulled away the soaked bandages, staring at the wound intently. “That looks like it-it hurts.” He commented offhandedly as he shook his head. Again, the cane was disregarded, no longer needing it and drunkenly not caring where it ended up at the moment. The fallen angel then hovered his hand over the wound, he knew in his current state he wouldn’t be able to heal it completely, he wouldn’t be able to get rid of the angelic radiation inside the wound that would continue to fester, but he could fight it off some and provide some pain relief. 
The Radio demon had his concerns, that much was evident as his entire body tensed at the light emanating from the king's hand, and he gripped the edge of the couch as he felt the warmth on his torso, but his body relaxed on its own as the intense pain he had been feeling subsided to almost nothing. Alastor blinked twice as he looked down at the wound, watching bright light, and Lucifer smiled confidently, smugly, as he pulled his hand back. That would be all he could feasibly do for the night unless he wanted to pass out and fall on top of the demon. Which would be worse than the floor. 
“I’m going… I’m going to… Fuck.” Lucifer moved away from the demon and shook his head a few times, grunting at his own slurring of his words. He needed to get to bed, even if he wasn’t going to sleep. If he was in his room at least then he wouldn’t embarrass himself so much. 
Alastor, always one to keep a smile on his face, to keep the show going, smirked at the perfect opportunity to spin the scenario back around. “You’re not going to do that with me, sire.”
Lucifer growled and glared at Alastor, immediately regretting what he had done for the demon. “That wasn’t what-what I was fucking saying and-nd you know it.” He snapped. “Going to bed.” Short and to the point, no chance of messing it up that time. 
Normally he would teleport himself to his room, it was easier and he wouldn’t have to walk as he wasn’t sure he could walk, but the risk of teleporting somewhere besides his room was a big enough fear that he decided he’d risk walking and falling on his face. So Lucifer turned away from the Radio demon and made his way carefully up the steps. He walked down the hallway, using the wall for support, and stopping every few feet to make sure he wasn’t going to be sick. Then he’d continue. And once he made it to his room, he congratulated himself before falling face first on the bed, burying his face into the pillows with a loud groan. He’d be regretting every single one of his life choices tomorrow, he knew that. He could already feel the regret with every passing wave of nausea threatening to win and take over. He’d have to tell Charlie, no more drinking nights for this old man, he couldn’t do it anymore.
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rosewoodtheseer · 7 months
Text
Me and My Husband-Chapter 1
Summary + series masterlist
Main masterlist
Chapter 2 / chapter 3
This is a slow burn wolfstar x reader/arranged marriage au
Word count : 2,724
The Marauders had all piled up into a carriage of the Hogwarts Express, sweets and lollies littering the seats and floor as they talked all about their break from school. Sirius had of course spent most of his break with the Potters once again before having to go back home before the start of their new school year. "We went to this muggle movie theatre and it was amazing, I've never been to one before" Sirius was currently spouting out about all the things he had done with James, not having a chance to do those kinds of things in his own home. "It was quite fun until we almost got kicked out because Padfoot here wouldn't shut up!" James spoke up with a humorous tone. "Well enough about that, how did your guys break go?" Sirius asked the other two boys after giving James a slight shove. Remus spoke up first "I went to visit my grandparents, they live out in the countryside, so it was nice to have some peace and quiet finally" Peter timidly spoke, a hint of concern in his voice. "Did you handle the full moons alright?" Remus gave a slight nod "it's a pretty secluded area, plus lots of room to run around" He gave Peter a smile to ease up any concern he had for the young Werewolf.
The rest of the trip was filled with mindless talk about more stuff that happened during their break, what kind of pranks they were planning this year and of course relationships. Sirius seemed to stiffen as soon as the topic had been brought up. Peter droned on about his new hufflepuff girlfriend he had gotten at the end of last year before asking the others if they had any crushes or anything. "Well I can't say I have one yet, but who knows this year I might get lucky" James said with a huge dorky grin on his face. After being rejected by Lily Evans far too many times the boy had decided it was best to move on, and now without the constant attempts to gain her affection they had become close friends. Sirius hadn't contributed much to the conversation though, in fact he hadn't spoken a word since Peter had brought the topic up. Although James and Peter didn't notice, the two boys continued with meaningless conversation. Remus on the other hand had noticed how Sirius was unusually quiet, his stormy eyes didn't look away from the window he was leaning against until the scarred hand of the tall boy touched his knee gently "you alright padfoot?" Remus's soft voice had always been pleasant to his ears. Sirius gave a small nod and faked a smile, though Remus could always tell when someone was faking a smile he just always knew, tilting his head as his eyebrows furrowed, clearly not believing what he had said. It scared Sirius just how much of an open book he seemed to Remus, though he guessed everyone felt that way about the tall boy. He knew Remus knew he was lying, he leant down towards him "I'm here if you need anything Sirius" giving him a soft smile, everything about Remus Lupin was soft, his hair, his voice, his warm skin and even the sweaters he always wore. Thankfully though he didn't press on, just leaving his large warm hand on Sirius's knee.
The train ride had come to an end soon after that, the four rowdy boys rushing off the train. All laughing like madmen at some stupid joke James had said. "Let's get to hogwarts quickly I'm starved" Sirius said with an over dramatic and drawn out sigh, James slung his arm around him as a laugh was drawn out from him "yeah because you totally didn't have enough from the trolley" Sirius elbowed him in the side, although that did nothing to discourage James. "Yeah padfoot you would've brought her whole stock if Moony hadn't stopped you" Peters jab had James cracking up all over again. Even Remus let out a small laugh, though Sirius just huffed "you're all the worst" shaking his head at his three friends. "Yeah but you'd be lost without us" James stated, ruffling up the hair of his best friend. As they continued walking Sirius caught sight of the one person he dreaded seeing around the school other than his younger brother, Y/n l/n, or as he referred to her since their last meeting during their break, the absolute bane of his existence. The sight of the expensive jewellery she wore on her hand made his thoughts bubble with anger, she was just as pompous and up herself as ever. He quickly dismissed the thoughts of her, not wanting to think more of it.
The four friends eventually found their way to the great hall, watching on as new 1st years were getting sorted. The boys were certainly the loudest when new students were sorted into Gryffindor. After the sorting and the same speech Dumbledore gave every year the feast had begun, everyone digging in and talking loudly with the people around them. Once the boys had finished eating they rushed to their dorm room, already excited to start planning out pranks for their last year. They all fell asleep quicker then they had initially planned on, the adrenalin wearing off as they started to crash out, barely out of their clothes or under their covers. Remus fell asleep sitting at his desk, his head leaning against his sweater he was using as a makeshift pillow. James was sitting upright, leant against the headboard of his bed, Sirius had crashed out at the end of James bed, his legs dangling off the edge of the bed. And Peter had fallen asleep on his own bed, though lying on top of the covers in nothing but sweat pants he had changed into.
They woke up later than usual, all stiff and sore from the uncomfortable positions they slept in, except for Peter, he was just cold. They all got dressed and decided to go down to the courtyard, they had the entire weekend to settle back in before 7th year classes started. Which they were all eternally grateful for. The Marauders made their way outside, laughing and joking around as usual. Finding somewhere nice to sit they picked back up their conversation from last night. "So this year everything needs to be bigger and better boys" James announced, clapping his hands together "I was thinking that prank we did last year on Snivellus, when we turned his uniform bright pink for the whole day, was pretty good but we could definitely top that". As soon as he finished the four boys all had that same classic Marauders look on their faces that screamed they were up to no good and to steer clear. Sirius shot up "how about we make it rainbow and glitter" Peter laughed and added on "yeah we could even add frills this time" that sent the boys into a crazed fit of laughter all except Remus. It wasn't that he was against the idea, it was more that he had something else in mind "or we could turn his uniform into the girl's one" despite his voice not being as loud as the others, their laughter had completely stopped. Wide devious smiles quickly covered the shocked looks they gave him "Merlin Remus you're a bloody genius!" James shouted, as he ruffled his hair up in approval.
They continued talking about how they'd pull it off when James noticed none other than Lily Evans walking through the courtyard "hey Lily!" James shouted out without a second thought. Lily's head shot up and she smiled at the boys walking over with one of her friends she had been talking to. "Hello boys, I hope the break treated you all well" the boys responded with simple answers of head nods and even a thumbs up from Remus. Sirius had finally noticed who Lily just so happened to drag along with her, of course it just had to be her, Y/n. "Mind if we sit with you guys?" Lily asked, her tone as sweet as always. Sirius would have denied her, almost saying how they were planning some 'Marauders' stuff. But of course James beat him to it "of course not, go for it ladies" he smiled at the two girls as they sat down. Sirius was angry at this, not at James for letting her sit with them, but at Y/n for thinking she could just sit near him so casually.
Sirius couldn't help the hateful glare as he watched the girl in front of him, seemingly avoiding conversation with the rest of the Marauders. All he could focus on was the girl he deemed to be the bane of his existence talking away with Lily, the two only met because of Lily's best friend Severus due to the two being in Slytherin. His stormy eyes held a gaze with the glittering gem on her left ring finger, acting as a constant and cruel reminder of his unwanted fate. Remus of course had noticed, he always did when Sirius's mood suddenly changed. The Werewolf leant down to whisper into said boys ear "You know if you keep brooding at her you're going to burn holes into the back of her head" he let out a soft huff of amusement as the boy looked back over at him, an incredulous look on his face "I'm not brooding, I just don't like her" Remus had that look on his face, the kind of look that said yeah that's totally it. The boy shook his head leaving the over dramatic boy to continue his not brooding session.
Y/n knew Sirius was glaring, she could feel his eyes on her as soon as she sat down with Lily. She tried to ignore it, instead choosing to focus on her conversation with said girl about their breaks, the muggle born witch always asked about the balls and events Y/n went to. Neither minded talking about it, Lily got an inside view of what rich and exclusive Pure Blood gatherings were like and Y/n was able to boast about the overly expensive dresses and jewellery she wore to each event and how pretty she felt in them. She was able to ignore the glaring eyes that seemed almost harsh enough to feel in her skull, until Lily had pointed it out "you know Sirius has been staring at you this entire time" the Slytherin didn't spare a glance at the mentioned boy "I'm well aware, he's been doing that a lot lately, I have no idea why" she let out a scoff at the end of her sentence. As much as she liked to talk about every little detail that happened during her break to Lily. The one thing she just so happened to leave out was the meeting between both her family and the Blacks. When Y/n's left hand combed through her hair brushing it back giving Sirius a perfect view of the beautiful ring he had come to hate, and of course he had taken it as a personal insult, as if she was flaunting the expensive jewel on her finger to dig the knife deeper into him. And that kind of insult wasn't something he had taken very lightly as something seemed to snap inside him, the black haired boy stood up abruptly walking over to the two girls "may I have a word with you l/n" his stormy grey eyes filled with hatred and disgust met the dull and harsh eyes of the girl he stared down, awaiting an answer from her. "With all due respect Black I'm currently busy" despite the two seeming to hate each other's guts, they always still acted formal with each other, years of being raised by pure blood families leaving its mark on the two teens."Yes well it's a very urgent matter Y/n" at the use of her first name she sighed and stood from her seat next to Lily, Sirius had only ever seemed to use her first name when he was beyond angry at her "i'll be back soon Lily" the girl just smiled and nodded joining the conversation with the rest of the marauders as Sirius dragged her away. Remus noticed the tight grip his friend had on the girl's wrist, he felt a tinge of worry creeping up on him, though he seemed to be the only one who noticed, not even Lily had noticed how Sirius pulled away the girl she was just talking to a second ago. Remus knew he was overly perceptive sometimes to his own detriment, so he softly interrupted the group's chatter with the excuse of going to the bathroom. Only to follow the two teens who had just left, stopping just before turning the corner peeking over slightly to see the people he was looking for.
Sirius had cornered Y/n against the wall, not wanting to let her leave until he spoke to her "do you seriously have to wear that stupid ring everywhere" he scoffed down at her, disgust clear in his voice. The Slytherin rolled her eyes at the boy "my parents wanted me to, it's not like I could say no to them, you know what will happen if Regulus finds out you're not wearing yours, do you really want your parents to find out" it was now Sirius's turn to roll his eyes "that doesn't mean you have to flaunt it around and keep reminding me of it" the girls face morphed from slightly irritated to furious "Excuse me! You think I'm flaunting it, as if I ever wanted this, as if I like this any more than you do!" Her voice kept rising in octaves as she yelled at the boy in front of her. "All I'm saying is you seem far too comfortable wearing that to be too upset about it" he leaned down into her face, it was clear to Y/n he was trying to intimidate her, there was a pause of silence before a loud slap rang out in the empty corridor they had found themselves in. Sirius's hand shooting up to hold his now reddening and sore face "you prick! Stop speaking to me like that, as if you know anything about me, it's like you think it's my life's dream to be betrothed and bear children to some moronic teenage boy I hate, simply to uphold our stupid pure-blood lineage!" Sirius was too stunned to speak, he didn't know if it was because of the slap, the angry words the usually quiet girl had yelled at him, or the tears that were now violently streaming down her face. Y/n turned away from him, face red and hot from her anger and tears, in doing so she had locked eyes with none other than Remus Lupin who was standing at the end of the corridor in shock only slightly out of view, both their eyes widening as their eyes locked. Y/n letting out a shocked gasp had alerted Sirius, whose head shot over to look at Remus, the tall Werewolf looking between the two, a slight bit of fear etched on his face at being caught. He looked down "sorry, I didn't mean to overhear anything, I was just worried about you" he didn't say who exactly he was talking about, eyes locking onto the floor. Though Remus himself didn't know who he was talking about either, only looking up when he heard the sudden movement of feet, watching as Y/n shoved Sirius away from her. Finally being freed from against the wall, she took off in the other direction, unable to contain her violent sobbing. Remus looked awkwardly at Sirius as he slowly made his way over, the taller boy staying still in his spot "you can't tell the others about this, can you promise me that Moony?" Remus seemed shocked, while he looked at Sirius. He seemed so vulnerable and scared, almost weak even as a few tears leaked down his face "I- I promise… I won't tell anyone anything" he gently put his hand on Sirius's shoulder. Said boy leaned into the touch of his friend, he sniffled slight before speaking "thank you Remus"
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