#i hope this is coming across as fragmented conversation! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ikeuverse · 1 month

Text

LIGHTHOUSE — p.sunghoon

PAIRING: sunghoon x fem!reader GENRES: angst, fluff WC: 3.9k+

WARNINGS: mention of divorce, a bad relationship with his father, a few swear words, lots of kisses.

NOTES: i tried to write this angst to see if my creativity comes back. at first i wasn't satisfied with it, but little by little i know i'll start posting again and i want this story to be my starting point. i chose angst bc i've been angsty lately. but i hope you like it!

masterlist

If there were a cliché meter for life's events, yours would surely be overflowing if you were to look at the story of falling in love with your neighbor.

And even worse, if your mother was good friends with his mother and had a little help in the process of bringing the two of you together.

But you wouldn't be cliché about the part where you were never opposed to it, least of all Sunghoon. He loved the idea when his mother told him that the neighbor's daughter was going to spend the vacation there.

He was charmed from the first moment he laid eyes on you. And it wouldn't be any different if you said otherwise because Sunghoon was charming. And neither of you was embarrassed or denied when both mothers complimented or invested a little more.

"Y/n is so pretty, I think you two match" your mother would say to Sunghoon at every opportunity.

"Did you know that I agree with you?" he would reply to your mother with such a charming smile that even after looking in her direction it wouldn't disappear.

This is how your attack on Park Sunghoon began and how much you let him into your life.

Perhaps the cliché part of denying everything and making things slow while you gradually felt your feelings for him grow. Or the cliché of discovering his life through his mother who always met with you in the afternoons, telling you fragments of a life she thought she knew.

Or a Sunghoon she thought was her son, while you painted a completely distorted picture.

But no. It was more interesting to accept that he would take you out for coffee every afternoon after the university study session, talking about life and finding out about it for himself. Hearing from Sunghoon every little thing you wanted to know. Talking about your life and how much you thought you were doing for yourself.

It was nice to discover that you two had things in common, like, for example, that you both decided to give up the dorms at university to move back in with your mother. The case? Unfortunately the same. Your father decided he wanted a divorce long before he knew you were doing well in your course of choice.

Your mother handled it very well, not least because she had wanted a divorce for a long time. Sunghoon's mother, who was going through the same process, wasn't coping so well. Since she still said she liked his father in some conversations they had.

That could be why Sunghoon was so shaken when he said those words out loud, almost destroying his coffee straw when he told you about his parents' divorce proceedings. He never mentioned how much it hurt him because – as his mother was always proud to say – he was a strong boy. And Sunghoon wanted to be that stronghold for his mother.

"Maybe you can share it with me then" you shrugged and tried to smile at him.

It was then that Sunghoon felt he could share things with you without too much worry.

About his parents' divorce, about how much university was killing him, or how he couldn't complete such a simple task. But the one thing Sunghoon couldn't say out loud was how much he was falling in love with you.

He thought that would be the cliché of his life. To be so madly in love with someone and hide it to get it across, but no. Sunghoon didn't want it to go away, he wanted to tell you.

He wanted you to know about every single time you helped him or were there. Or every time the two of you went out together somewhere different and talked about life.

They were always subjects that were too difficult for him to deal with since, at home, Sunghoon wanted to be as light as possible. You thought you wanted to be like that for your mother too, even if her process was a little more relaxed, but showing strength to the woman who brought you into the world and was happy that you were back home was the least of it.

"Hey" Sunghoon's voice snapped you out of your thoughts, the little movie running through your mind from when the two of you first met "What are you thinking about?" he asked.

You looked into his eyes, a glow so intense that you liked it and felt even more comfortable every time you looked at him.

"About when we first met" you let slip, sprawling out even more on the sofa in the house that Sunghoon shared with his mother.

"And was it good for you?" Sunghoon fought the urge to hold your hands.

Even though the two of you were close and intimate enough for this, you knew his limits and even though you felt the same way, you thought it never went beyond casual hugs because he wasn't ready. So you could wait.

"I think it was one of the best things that could have happened to me since I moved back in with my mother."

"Strange" he paused for a moment, you froze in place thinking you'd said something to upset him. But as soon as you turned even more towards him, Sunghoon was smiling "I was going to tell you exactly that."

"Oh, were you?" your question came out low, at a moment when your body almost leaned forward, but Sunghoon was quick to do it first and when you blinked, his face was inches from yours.

That had been a breakthrough for him and you too. Feeling him so close, Sunghoon's breath almost next to your mouth almost made you sigh.

"Sunghoon..." you whispered.

"Yes?" he said in the same tone, raising one of his hands to rest on your cheek. There you knew that another step would definitely be taken.

What you so desperately wanted was about to happen, so you thought you'd put your hand over his. Like a silent request that Sunghoon could move forward.

He did it ever so slowly, lips brushing against yours and ready to be kissed if it weren't for the damn doorbell ringing.

The boy in front of him gritted his teeth in frustration... He'd always lacked the courage, but when he finally decided to do it, he had to be interrupted.

Why couldn't it be later? Just when Sunghoon was about to kiss you after so long.

"You'd better answer that" you still whispered, and even though you didn't want him to leave, the doorbell had been rung once again. It could be important.

"I'll be right back, please don't go anywhere."

As if I could. You almost answered, but he was quick to get up from the sofa and go to the door.

From where you were sitting, you could only see Sunghoon and half the door, not who was outside playing and interrupting the moment you two shared. So you only knew who was there by the words of the boy in your field of vision.

"Dad" didn't take much for you to notice how uncomfortable Sunghoon was. It flipped a switch and you quickly got up from the sofa, pondering whether you should gather your things and leave or wait for him there.

Sunghoon gave you a single glance, which didn't mean much, and left to close the door. Maybe have a private chat with his father while you are there.

To give you even more privacy, you decide to go to the kitchen and get a cup of juice that you were both drinking before deciding on the movie a few hours ago.

That doesn't calm your nerves and curiosity, let alone the uncertainty of what to do.

What was his father doing there? Had he come to talk to Sunghoon about the divorce? Did he come to ask him to move in with him or to tell him that he wants to go back?

Your thoughts were interrupted again by Sunghoon's voice, this time deeper and more serious than when he had called you into the living room.

"Hi" you tried to smile, but as soon as you saw his bright eyes and red face, something was definitely wrong.

You came around the kitchen counter and didn't wait for his permission to wrap your arms around him and pull Sunghoon's body to you. Visibly taller and stronger than you, this didn't stop him from letting you hug him, let alone lowering his head to lay it on top of your head.

The low sighs he let out were an indication that nothing was going right, that he was crying silently and didn't want you to see him like that.

"Hello darlings, I'm home!"

How wonderful, his mother had arrived just when she wasn't supposed to.

Sunghoon let go of your arms and ran up the stairs to his own room before his mother said anything. The hurricane that passed through her was a basic indication that something had happened.

"Are you two all right?" his mother asked as soon as you appeared, looking between your figure and the spot Sunghoon had rushed past.

You just nodded, wanting to be brief at that moment. Even if you knew you'd have to tell them what had happened, Sunghoon probably wouldn't be leaving his room any time soon.

You were right to think that Sunghoon wouldn't be leaving his room any time soon. A whole week without any contact with him, let alone knowing about him when the boy's mother came to your house to talk to his mother.

It made you sad in a way, wondering how you could help him since the problem was always shared with you. But this time it seemed that Sunghoon wanted to get as far away from everything as possible.

Would it be bad to go to his house first? Perhaps a message would suffice before you crawled out from under your covers as the strong wind beat against the glass of your window.

you: hey you: are you okay? i'm worried

Sent.

Read.

He read his message and more than ten minutes passed before Sunghoon could reply. He couldn't be avoiding you, could he?

sunghoon: i'm fine sunghoon: no need to worry

He's never been brief enough with you since you first met. Sunghoon has been frustrated a few times since then, but that was never an excuse or anything for him to treat you like that.

you: want to come here? i kind of miss you...

The message had been sent for forty minutes and there had been no reply from Sunghoon. Right, whatever had happened to his father had certainly stirred something up inside him to make him avoid you too.

You remember his mother saying that Sunghoon didn't talk to her at all during that time, only going downstairs to get his meals and locking himself in his room without any contact with her the whole time.

She even considered calling you to see if you could get him out of there, but considering the messages you and he had just exchanged, surely you'd only get in the way.

"Shit" you cursed softly as your eyes stung and your heart ached more than usual.

This couldn't be happening, you never thought you'd cry for Sunghoon. You never thought you'd follow the cliché of taking it easy and even walking away from your neighbor's son when you had the chance.

Your mental questions were interrupted by the sound of thunder outside, indicating the enormous rain that was beginning to fall. Perhaps this was a metaphor for how watery his eyes were, wanting to wipe the pain from his heart along with the falling rain, wiping away all the bad feelings that had hung over that week.

Feeling that nothing was right and that, at the same time, everything seemed to fit together. If that was the answer to what you – almost – experienced with Sunghoon, it hurt. But you could accept it.

"Damn" you cringed when another thunderclap cut through the sky, at the same moment that your cell phone vibrated on the bed. Two things scaring you in a short period.

You unlocked the device to read the message flashing on the screen.

sunghoon: can you open the door?

Was he downstairs? And in the rain?

You didn't think much of it when you pushed back the covers and ran down the stairs to the front door to open it for Sunghoon. You didn't even consider the possibility that it was someone playing a trick on you, using his cell phone for a bad joke. No, he wouldn't allow that.

Unlocking the door and cringing at every sound of thunder outside, your face lit up at the figure in front of you.

"Sunghoon. Oh God, you're—"

You were going to scold him for being soaked, he knew he'd hear something from you, but he couldn't before doing what he'd come there to do.

The interruption was defeated when his lips pressed hard against yours. Without even thinking, he just pulled you close and swallowed your scream of terror at feeling him completely wet and cold. But at the same time, you relaxed and let him lead.

Giving way when his tongue poked at your lower lip, shuddering at the cold touch his fingertips provided when they touched your cheek.

You didn't mind feeling your clothes getting damp because he was wet from the rain, you just wanted to focus on the kiss that had taken so long but was happening.

It was slow and needy, and that made the feelings of the boy in front of you clearer. Because Sunghoon was kissing you with such need, holding you with such fear that you would leave and slam the door in his face. Sunghoon needed air, he needed to stop kissing you, but it was impossible. And he knew from the day he started fantasizing about it, that he stared at your mouth for too long.

He knew that as soon as he kissed you, it would all be over. He would have to give himself up as he was doing now. Letting out a moan when you plucked up the courage to touch him, tangling your fingers in the wet hair at the nape of his neck and tugging on it when Sunghoon decided to press his body even closer to yours.

"I'm sorry" he whispered against your lips, catching his breath long enough before kissing you again.

Blindly you walked backwards – without letting go of him – into your house until Sunghoon closed the door, turning your bodies to press you against the cold marble that separated the inside of the house from the outside. Protecting you both from the rain.

"I'm sorry, y/n" he repeated when the kiss stopped, his forehead pressed to yours and keeping his eyes closed.

You opened your eyes, looking at his face and now noticing the points you hadn't noticed before.

In addition to the hair falling on his forehead from the rain, his lips reddened from the kiss you shared, his eyes looked bright too. Sunghoon thought that the rain could mask how much time he spent crying in his room, he just didn't count on you knowing him well enough for that.

"I hope you're saying that because you wet all my clothes, not because you kissed me."

His laugh made you smile, leaving another kiss on Sunghoon's lips, from which he took longer than usual to pull away.

"I meant—" you kissed him again, interrupting anything else he might have said.

"Let's go upstairs and change and you can tell me, okay?"

"Okay" he was relieved by the sweet way you were handling the whole thing.

He felt he didn't deserve all that treatment as he went up to your room and stood so as not to wet the bed, waiting for you to find something for him to wear.

It wasn't a big surprise that you had some of your father's clothes because men's sweatshirts were always more comfortable. Sunghoon also had some of his father's, even if that man had to be put out of his mind for the moment.

"Do you mind?" you smiled at him as you brought the garments closer together.

"No" he smiled in thanks "I'll be back in a minute" Sunghoon walked to your bathroom and closed the door behind him to change.

Not that you minded the delay, he knew he'd have his own time to take off the wet clothes and put on the dry ones you'd delivered. But it was inevitable not to think about the last week as Sunghoon looked at his reflection in the mirror.

Noticing how sad he was, reverberating his father's own words in his mind: the real reason for ending all the good feelings he had with him. It triggered a series of bad feelings and the boy only realized it after realizing what a foolish thing he had done by taking you away from him.

Sunghoon had never wanted this to happen, on the contrary, your presence in his life had become the lighthouse he needed to guide him every time he thought of losing himself in the negativity that surrounded him. He hadn't regretted for a second saying the things about his father to you, but he felt ashamed that he had let that man make him fragile enough to lock himself in his own room and live isolated even from his own mother.

You're not going to cry about this, he thought as his eyes threatened to sting again. Sunghoon was ready to go out and find you, all he had to do was run his hands through his hair remove any remnants of raindrops, and take a deep breath before leaving. And so he did.

He found you leaning against the headboard with the remote control in your hand, inside that sweatshirt that he was sure could fit one more of you inside. Your eyes turned away from the TV and your fingers stopped pressing the buttons on the remote when Sunghoon finally appeared.

"Are you all right?" he knew you would ask, and at any moment a decent answer would have to come, other than ignoring you as he was doing.

You allowed yourself to be walked to your bed, not caring when he lazily threw himself over your body, causing you to fall back on the mattress to the sound of his laughter.

"I'm not" he said, lying down on top of you before rolling over to lie next to you "But I'm staying" now the touch of his hand was warm, and it would be even warmer after Sunghoon snuggled under the covers with you. And he didn't even need a verbal invitation for that, the boy had already pulled back the covers so he could get even closer.

His heart felt a little more at peace when your hands touched his face, a caress against his cheek that he so desperately needed. Closing his eyes and letting himself be carried away by the sensation of calm that this brought into the poor heart of the man in front of you.

"My dad" Sunghoon said after a while in silence, knowing that he was the one who had to start the conversation. You were there to reassure him, to make him feel safe and a little better. And since that was happening, it was only fair that he explained himself "He's a big jerk, to be honest."

"Do you want to have this conversation?" the softness in your voice almost made him cry again, feeling guilty for having tried to push you away.

"I do. You need to hear it from me" he opened his eyes without any effort to find your eyes already staring at him. When you nodded, he knew he could continue what he had started at that moment "He's always been rude to my mother, he's always tried to control my life and hers. And the divorce was only in a state of denial because mom thought about how I would feel" silence from you as he spoke, continuing to caress Sunghoon's face with every word "That day he came here, it was to say that he wanted to go back because he heard from my mom that I was supposedly dating."

At that moment, your cheeks burned and you were thankful that the light in the room was illuminated only by the television and, from time to time, the light of the thunder that still echoed outside.

"I didn't allow it to happen and we started arguing. He threw a lot of things in my face and how I would be just like my mother and ruin any shit that came into my life" Sunghoon's voice wavered, he knew he would cry if it wasn't for your lips slowly kissing him. In a strangely good way, it calmed him down, and he didn't let you pull away until he had another kiss "I know I pushed you away, I pushed my mom away too. But it made me very afraid."

"What were you afraid of?" you whispered.

For a good few seconds, the sound of the rain and your breathing were the only thing you could hear. Sunghoon slipped his arms under the blanket so that he could wrap his arms around you, taking advantage of the fact that your mouth was still close enough to kiss once more.

"I was afraid my father was right" if it were possible, he wanted to merge his body with yours as he held you so tightly against him, afraid that you would throw him out of your house "That day I was going to kiss you in the living room, tell you everything I was feeling because I couldn't hold back any longer. But he ruined everything. I ruined everything."

"Hey, hey, hey" you kissed him slowly, ending up with your mouth next to Sunghoon's ear "You didn't ruin anything."

"What do you mean no?" he said back, waiting for you to return to your original position facing him "I pushed you away, I didn't answer. But it's because I was scared, you know? All this is new to me" you wanted to say that you understood why this was mutual "I didn't know how to deal with the proportion of these bad things and I pushed away the only person who guides me through this idiotic darkness of fear, insecurities, and love."

"Love?" you had a half-smile on your face.

Sunghoon's eyes widened when he realized that, in a completely strange way, you were rambling and declaring yourself at the same time. You laughed when he tried to wriggle out of it, saying he didn't know what you were talking about.

"I think we can figure it out together, what do you think?" feeling him so close was giving you a comforting sensation. The smell of Sunghoon getting more and more into your sheets.

"Please, because I don't want to be without you anymore, y/n," he whispered, and it was Sunghoon's turn to move closer and put his mouth to yours "You're the lighthouse of my life, and I've felt lost and confused during this time. I think I need you by my side for all the moments, not just the bad ones."

Sunghoon, in one movement, pondered the weight as it hung over your body and stared into your eyes with every word that came out of your mouth. He saw you smile at that, smiling back.

"Then I'll guide you, Hoonie."

That was all he needed to be able to kiss you more deeply and never let go. Because Sunghoon knew he needed you the second you came into his life. And saying out loud that your arrival was a lighthouse to guide him was surely the best thing you could have heard that rainy night.

#enhypen #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #sunghoon angst #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen au #enhypen masterlist #enhypen x reader #sunghoon fanfics #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon angst #enhypen imagines

464 notes · View notes

tightjeansjavi · 5 months

Text

Slow Hands | Chapter 9

“when the monsters creep into your house”

A/N: so, before we get into this chapter, I just wanted to say that I am still on a break, but I wanted to share this with y’all because I’m so incredibly proud of how far I’ve come as a writer. This story has truly become such an importance to me, and I am so grateful to have the opportunity to share it with you. This break has been everything I hoped it would be and with that, I have restored my love for writing. This is also my longest chapter that I have ever written. 15k to be exact! Anyway, I hope you’re all doing well and thank you for the endless support. In due time I’ll be ready to re-immerse myself into the community, but for now I am content. 🤍 happy Thanksgiving to all of you who celebrate, and free Palestine 🇵🇸 call for a ceasefire now. Also, a big shout out to @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for betaing for me! I appreciate you so much 🥹🤍

~word count: 15k~

Pairing | Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: after spending the night at Joel’s, the fragmented pieces of your past before Jackson begin to fall into place.

warnings: angst, PTSD, trauma, intense flashbacks, nightmares, child loss, implied SA (not by Joel) heavy heavy topics, hurt, comfort, foreshadowing, implied animal abuse (not done by Joel) soft flirting, protective! Joel, soft! Joel, no age gap, reader has no physical descriptions such as body type or skin color, readers nickname is Beanie (coffee beans), +18 minors dni!

main masterlist masterlist

Joel Miller’s POV

“Spend the night with me, Beanie. Please.” His words fell heavy on his tongue. His heart begging you with a steady thrum to stay. He was nervous. Nervous about how you would react to his request. While he had many moments of raw vulnerability with you, this was by far the most vulnerable admittance. It showed that he felt a deep level of trust towards you considering the only other person who knew of Ellie’s immunity was Tommy. Admittedly, if you said no to his request to spend the night, it would sting, but he’d accept it and give you the time that you needed. That didn’t erase the fact that he was waiting with a bated breath.

“Of course I’ll spend the night with you, Joel. Under one condition, you don’t snore, right?” Your tone was playful, teasing as you gently scratched his scalp with the blunt ends of your nails.

Oh, geez. How was it that one single person could read the room so well? There was something that was so purely natural to you. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Maybe one day he’d have the answer. He was relieved.

“Well, I don’t usually snore, but I won’t make any promises. Is that a deal breaker for ya, darlin?’” She’s spending the night. Here. with me.

He nearly could have purred like a damn cat from how soothing it felt to have you scratching his scalp, and playing with his hair. Oh, he had it bad alright.

“No, just means that I might have to smother you with a pillow if you do start snoring, honey.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He threatened teasingly as his fingers attempted to lightly tickle your sides, but you were quicker than that. Exchanging pet names felt easy and natural between the two of you. The banter dissolved the tension from the emotionally charged conversation that just took place

“Oh, but I would.”

Your fingers interlaced with his, thumbs brushing across the outside of his hand. He was looking directly into your eyes with a slight tilt of his head. He shamelessly thought about kissing you again now that there seemingly would be no other interruptions. His eyes flitted down to your lips. Soft. Kissable. He hadn’t kissed anyone since Tess’s passing. Even then, they didn’t share many romantic moments leading up to her death. Oh how he wishes he could have just kissed her one last time. You have to let go of the past, remember? Tess is gone. She’s never coming back, Joel. But Beanie? She’s here. She’s sitting right next to you, and she’s breathing. Her heart has a beat and there's blood pumping in her veins.

“If we keep this up, the pizza is gonna go cold, darlin.’” He tilted his head to the side with a boyish grin spreading across his lips. You swore that you saw a dimple peek through.

“Can’t have that happening.”

“Would be a shame..” He drawled thoughtfully.

Your eyes met, soft gazes melded together, brows raised before you broke out into a fit of contagious giggles. You couldn’t even depict the cause of your laughter, but he was short to follow, and man, did it feel good. Perhaps there need not be a reason. Perhaps it just felt natural to burst into giggles after such a heavy topic of discussion. You thoughtfully watched the way his eyes crinkled, and his hand grasped his belly under the worn-down fabric of his shirt. The cadence of your combined laughter echoed weightlessly through the expanse of the kitchen like a feather drifting along a gentle breeze. Ask her now. You can do it, Joel. Let your heart feel, for god sakes.

“Well, now I’m real fuckin’ hungry, darlin.’” He drawled warmly as he reached for your hands.

“Felt good though, didn’t it?”

He smiled knowingly as he nodded, “Felt damn good.” His hands grasped yours firmly before he gently released them and slowly stood up.

Your mouth watered the second he removed the pizza from the oven with a well-loved oven mitt that had little hearts stitched artfully through the fabric. He set the tray carefully along the countertop to cool. “It’s gonna be a few minutes for the pizza to cool. Don’t wanna go and burn our tongues off.” He chortled softly as he slowly descended back down to your level.

His palms were growing clammy by the second as he watched your discreet body language under the soft glow of the overhanging kitchen light. He watched the way you moved in closer to him, as if you were both magnets being drawn together by an invisible force that was slowly reeling you in. He watched your eyes, and how they never seemed to leave his own. He watched the way your lips parted open, soft and sweet like two glistening peach halves. Dew kissed rose petals being warmed by the sun's rays. Joel Miller would never consider himself to be a hopeless romantic, but you’d beg to disagree.

“Fuck it.” he whispered under his breath, nearly undetectable to your ears.

“What?”

He breathed in slow and deep as his lips parted like the narrow sea. “Beanie,” He breathed out. “Can I please kiss you?”

A moment to breathe passed before you slowly nodded in consent, “Yes, Joel. Please kiss me.”

He leaned in slowly, the bridge of his nose gently brushing against your own as he tilted his head to the side ever so slightly. His hands gently rose to caress either side of your face. He held you like delicate fine china in his palms. Those very same hands could take away a life with a snap and twisting of his wrists. You held no fear because you knew this man. You knew Joel Miller as if he had been in your life forever. In some way, he had. Inconspicuously he had touched your life before the outbreak, and now you were finding one another in a new light.

The gap between your lips was tortuously closing at a slow pace. He was taking his time with you, but only if you knew that internally, he was wishing that he could take your breath away with a swift kiss. Time felt like it ceased to exist the moment his lips molded against your own. Although they were slightly chapped, Joel Miller’s lips were like two soft pillows, and he’d describe yours as candy floss. The sweet, sugary kind that used to be consumed in carnivals and fairs. He sighed into your mouth as his thumb brushed across your cheekbone. Your lips moved together in sync, but he could taste your hesitation lingering on your tongue.

“Joel..” You murmured against his lips.

“S’okay,” He spoke with utter reassurance. “You’re safe here with me.”

That’s all it took for you to let yourself go as your arms wrapped around his neck with ease, pressing your lips further into his.

His heart felt ignited with a newfound feeling that had laid dormant for so long. Fuck the pizza, he thought to himself. Nothing can ever come close to this moment.

The kiss was short lived, and lasted all of 30 seconds, but it was only because he could taste the salt from your tears along his tongue as he slowly detached his lips from yours. A tiny sliver of saliva kept you connected, until that dissipated too.

Why is she crying?

Oh, god. What have I done?

I knew this was foolish of me.

He didn’t even realize that his own tears began to free-fall from the corner of his eyes. He was too hyper focused on you.

“Beanie, what’s wrong? Darlin’ is it somethin’ I’ve done? I’m so sorry my dear, I–”

You cut him off with a surprised urgency as your hands dropped to his face and his strong jaw. You nearly threw yourself into his lap from how fervently you kissed him. On instinct, his hands found your waist to hold you steady as he kissed you back with the same amount of passion that you held for him. Your breaths synced harmoniously before you parted ways and pressed your forehead into the fabric of his shirt. An overflowing tide of emotions swept through the two of you as he cradled your head protectively to his chest. His head came to rest upon the lower cabinet as his eyes fluttered shut.

I’m here.

I’ll keep you safe.

No harm will come your way.

My girl. My girl. My beautiful sweet girl.

The pizza had significantly cooled off by the time yours and Joel’s emotions calmed down and he had wiped away every last tear that had dripped down your beautiful soft-spoken eyes. He left your side only to grab two plates and divvy the slices between the two of you. You sat side by side on the floor, as you ate in a comfortable silence.

I should check in and see how she’s doing. Maybe asking her to spend the night was too much.

Maybe this moved too fast?

Maybe I should just shut up and stop overthinking every single little fuckin’ detail.

“How’s it tastin?’” He finally asked as he set his plate off to the side.

“Tastes just as good as I remember it to be. Might even be better.” You responded with a small smile of gratitude.

“You ain’t gotta say that jus’ to be polite, darlin.’ Y’can be honest with me.”

“Joel, it’s seriously delicious. You’re a good cook.”

“And you make a fabulous sous chef.” He murmured with a grin between his teeth as he turned his head to look over at you.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks as you rested your plate on your lap.

“Like what?” He asked softly.

“Like I am the only girl in the room.”

His brow raised as he pondered your response. You were literally the only girl in the room, but he was able to pick up on the silent signals, and read the context clues to your words.

“Darlin’, you don’t have to be afraid of me, or this, okay? Look, I understand if me askin’ you to spend the night might have been too much, and if that is the case, I’ve got no problem walking you home. But, if you do still want to spend the night with me, I promise we don’t have to..y’know, do anythin.’” He cleared his throat nervously as his eyes silently searched your own.

“Joel, I’m not afraid of you. I promise that it’s not that. I just—it’s been so long since..I’ve liked someone this much. The last guy I had romantic feelings for, was shortly before outbreak day. We actually had a date planned on the night of the outbreak. He canceled because he said his mom was sick and he needed to go and check on her. I never heard from him after that.” You murmured somberly as your hand slowly came to rest upon his cheek, stroking your thumb gently across the patches in his silver speckled beard.

“Baby, s’alright. I understand. S’been awhile for me as well, as you know. I’m sorry that you never heard from him again. Was he uh—your boyfriend? Or just someone you had met?” He leaned into your soft caress as his hand slowly came to rest upon your knee, rubbing soothing circles into the fabric.

He liked that you both shared a liking towards physical touch. He always wanted to be touching those he loved in some shape or form.

“No, he wasn’t my boyfriend. It was actually going to be our second date, and I was truly excited about it. We met in line at the local grocers, and my clumsy ass nearly dropped an entire carton of milk. He was..really sweet. Sometimes I wonder if he survived outbreak day, and if he did, would we find each other again.” Your thumb gently brushed across his lower lip before you were leaning in and kissing him sweetly as his lashes fluttered shut.

“Oh, darlin.’ I’m so sorry. I jus’ hope that if he didn’t make it, he went out painless. Sometimes I often forget that so many people lost something that night. Friends. Family. Lovers. It’s so easy to get caught up in your own grief and forget everyone else’s.” He mumbled against your lips as he squeezed your knee tenderly.

“It’s okay, Joel. Really, it’s okay. I got over it as soon as I realized that I had a decent chance at survival. Had to push my own grief far into the depths. Tess helped a lot. When we found each other I just had this feeling that it was meant to be. I wouldn’t have made it very far without her.” You slowly pulled away from the kiss as your forehead gently lowered to rest against his. “If I’m gonna spend the night, I sure hope you have a good pair of pj’s for me, Miller.” You teased softly as you gently twirled a strand of his salt and peppered hair between your fingers.

“She’s a good horse. Y’all have a special bond that I doubt could ever be broken. Darlin’ , you can wear any pj’s of mine that you’d like. Y’can keep ‘em too. But, before we head upstairs, there’s somethin’ I wanna show you. Would that be alright?”

“What do you want to show me, Joel?”

“You’ll see, darlin.’ Y’trust me, right?”

“Always.”

Joel offered you his arm like the true southern gentleman he was. He softly told you to leave the plates for now, and he would take care of that later. You took his arm graciously with a gentle grasp as he led you outside.

“Jus’ so ya know, the only two people who have seen my little wood workin’ shed, as I would call it, is Tommy and Ellie. But, you’re awfully special to me, Beanie. And I wanna share this piece of myself with you.”

“Joel, you know you don’t have to do this, right? I am absolutely honored that you want to share this part of yourself with me.” You murmured in a honeyed tone as your fingers gently flexed along his forearm.

He turned towards you, pausing in a moment of thought before he smiled. A real genuine smile that showed the little crinkles in the corner of his eyes that came with the process of aging. How precious a moment for you to see Joel Miller with his guard down. Even in the lowlight, you could see the way his eyes sparkled as he looked at you with tenderness.

“Best get used to it, darlin.’ Cus’ one day, I’m gonna share everything with you.”

His words were taken as a promise. An oath that you were not just a stepping stone in his path towards healing and living a peaceful domestic life. You mattered, and he made you feel like the sun was something that he crafted just for you with his bare hands in his toolshed. And the millions of stars that painted the night sky in twinkling light, were his secrets, and all he had to do was reach up and pluck one from the string it hung upon and bring it down to you. The stardust would bloom like a rose in your palm as if by magic. All in due time he’d bring a star down to you. All in due time.

At least in this lifetime, you’d finally understand what all the fairytales and romance novels were talking about.

His lips brushed your forehead in a velvety kiss before he nudged the shed door open with his shoulder and flicked on the light directly to the left of his head.

Remnants of sawdust coated the air as you followed him inside. His work station was fairly tidy sans a few stray tools that didn’t quite find their home, yet. You could feel his presence lingering behind you as you admired the wood carved fawn that was nearing its completed stages.

“This is darling. Did you make it for someone?” You asked softly as he pulled up the stool next to you and made himself comfortable.

“Made that one for Ellie. After I gifted her that felt fawn from your trinket bowl, I felt inspired to make her a wooden version. Got a rocket ship I'm workin’ on as well, but animal anatomy is far easier to work with than machine parts.” He mused as he rested his palm along his chin comfortably.

“I’m sure she’ll love it, Joel.”

“Hopin’ so. Got somethin’ I’m workin’ on for you as well.” He murmured with a gesture towards the figure covered with a white sheet to keep it a surprise.

You turned your head to the side, catching his gaze before you smiled. “Really? Can I see it?”

“‘Fraid not, my dear. Ain’t finished with it, yet. And I wanna keep it a surprise for now. Think you can be patient?” His brow raised as his lips curved up into a small grin.

“Oh, alright. I suppose I can be patient, for now.”

“Are ya sure you’re actually capable of being patient, darlin?’ He asked teasingly, his eyes flickered with unbridled mischief like two high-hanging mirror balls.

You leaned in with the same mischief dancing in your irises. It felt good to flirt, real good. He could easily say the same thing.

“I think the real question is, are you capable of being patient, Miller?”

A challenge. And a good one at that.

Joel had felt like a horny, love-sick teenage boy all over again.

He reveled in it.

Before he could answer, you slipped off the other stool with ease as you gingerly picked up one of the wood chisels that was laying around nearby. You twirled the handle in your palm with glee as you danced around the workbench, feeling his eyes never leaving you.

“So, what’s this one called?” You knew it was a wood chisel, but playing dumb for a moment felt fun and carefree.

“It’s a wood chisel. S’what I use when I'm carving out details and such. Got a whole set of ‘em. They’re quite handy.” He was already up from his stool as well as he followed you around the corner of the workbench.

“Fascinating.” You responded with a playful grin as you placed the chisel down where you found it before picking up a small screwdriver. “And this?”

He chuckled, shaking his head with a grin. “That would be a screwdriver, princess.”

Something unreadable flashed in your eyes. It was there, and gone as fast as it came.

“I totally knew that.” Your tone was an octave higher than usual, but you masked it well by tossing the screwdriver to the side before reaching for his hands.

“I know you did, honey.” He drawled smoothly as he found himself stepping between your legs where you were casually leaned up against the bench.

You were locked onto one another like two magnets as he slowly brought your interlocked hands above your head. He studied your expression for a moment as he silently waited for your consent, and once it was given, his lips were pressed to yours once more as your back naturally began to descend against the saw dust covered surface.

The tension in the air rose and thickened the atmosphere. The only sounds that could be detected were your lips moving in a passionate filled embrace, and the crickets chirping just outside the door.

He was the one to break the kiss with a breathy chuckle. “Seems like you and I are turnin’ into a couple of horny teens, huh?”

You liked the way his cheeks were flushed, and his lips swollen from your kisses.

“Indeed we are. I feel so alive. Do you?”

“Yes. The most alive I have felt in years, Beanie.” He murmured as he gently pulled you back up into a sitting position. His hands departed from your own and proceeded to brush away any sawdust that had stubbornly clung to your clothing. “Let's head in, yeah? I’ll make us some tea before bed. Chamomile?”

“Sounds delightful.” You pecked his cheek sweetly, and his cheeks reddened once more.

Joel left you to your own devices as he tidied up the kitchen. When you softly protested to help with the dishes, he shook his head and gently nudged you towards the staircase followed by a short peck to your lips. “Go on. I’ll be up shortly, darlin’.’”

“Joel, are you sure you want me to go up there alone? I mean, it’s your private space and–”

“Beanie,” He breathed softly against your lips. “S’okay. I trust you, remember?”

“Okay. Are you sure you don’t want any help down here?”

He shook his head once more as he nudged you up a few steps. “No. I’ll be alright. Go on now.” He pressed softly.

Your reluctance was noted, but Joel trusted you, and that was a fact. So, what did you really have to fear?

Your soft-padded footsteps led you further up the stairs before your body disappeared from his view. His bedroom was down the hall from Ellie’s. Like a classic teenager, her door had a sign in bold red lettering that said “KEEP OUT”. Oh to be a teenager again.

Joel’s bedroom was exactly how you pictured it to be; homey. His bed was neatly made with both sets of pillows fluffed to perfection. On his nightstand contained a book titled, “Idiot's Guide to Space” and on top of the book were his old man reading glasses.

Cute.

You didn’t want to appear as if you were snooping around, but it was hard not to when two seemingly photographs caught your attention. You padded over to the dresser with a genuine curiosity. Upon closer inspection, the first photograph encased a younger Joel with his arm around who you presumed to be his daughter. Sarah truly was the apple of his eye.

“Winning that game was a big moment for her.” Joel’s warm tone lingered in the open doorway.

“She’s beautiful, Joel.” You murmured in response as you gently set the frame down.

“She was.” He solemnly corrected you as he made his way into the room.

You could feel the heaviness weighing in his heart as his footsteps approached. You hated to think that right now he was picturing his baby girl laying in her shallow grave. She was far too young.

“Joel, please. Don’t go to that place. Sarah is beautiful, and I wish I could have had the opportunity of knowing her.”

“She woulda loved you. I’m almost sure of it. The two of you woulda been as thick as thieves.” He was standing alongside you now with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his worn out jeans.

Your gaze softened as it landed upon the second photograph. Joel and Ellie side by side, looking into Shimmer’s stall.

“Did you mean what you said earlier, Beanie?” His question startled your current thoughts as you slowly met his gaze.

“You mean when I said that Ellie would forgive you eventually, and she just needs time to heal, and so do you?”

“Yes. Y’meant that, right? You actually believe that Ellie can forgive me? That her and I will be okay again?”

“Joel, I believe that everyone can be forgiven to an extent. What you did is what any parent would do for their child. In due time she might understand, and forgive you. But, you need to start believing that yourself. Feel it in your heart that you and her will be alright. These things are delicate, and they take time, Joel.”

You could feel his muscles clench as he inhaled deeply. Sometimes hearing the truth hurt, but it was necessary.

“I guess I don’t know how to be patient at all.” He murmured with a slight shrug.

“No, that’s not true at all, Joel. You miss her, and that is completely understandable.”

“I’d do it all over again. If I was given the chance to make up for it, there ain’t a damn thing I woulda done differently.” His nostrils flared from his admittance. As if he was a once dormant volcano that was becoming active again.

“I know, Joel. I know.” You talked him down.

He appeared to be lost in his own thoughts before his shoulders finally returned to a relaxed position. “Let me get you some pj’s so you can change, and then i’ll go make our tea.”

You nodded silently as he pulled open the top drawer of the dresser and grabbed a pair of plaid pajama pants and plain t-shirt. He placed them gently into your arms. “I think there might be an extra toothbrush in one of the drawers in the bathroom. I’ll uh–give ya some privacy.” He backed off like a dog with its tail between his legs. He could already feel the shame begin to creep up every vertebrae in his spine as he slipped past the open doorway. He just wanted to be normal. To not feel this constant weight on his shoulders, or grief in his heart. He wished for happiness. To smile more. To laugh. To enjoy the life he had left to live. To love without the fear of losing.

You wished that for him too.

When he returned with two steaming mugs of herbal tea, he found you already safely tucked under the covers. ‘The Idiot’s Guide to Space’ book in your grasp. His heart swelled as he set his owl mug down along the nightstand as he offered you the other mug. A moose grazing in a snowy field was illustrated along the outside of the mug. You looked up, pausing in the paragraph you were reading, before grasping the mug gently from him. “I hope you don’t mind me reading it. The title intrigued me.” You murmured.

“Don’t mind at all. It’s got some fascinating stuff in’t.” He responded warmly before he pulled the covers back and climbed underneath them. His shoulder brushed yours as he made himself comfortable.

“Would you like me to read it to you?” Your suggestion was soft and thoughtful as his eyes met yours.

“I’d love that, Beanie.”

You naturally found yourself scooting in towards his side of the bed. You wanted to be closer to him. To feel that intimate connection that had sent a new fire scorching through your veins. His arm slowly came to rest along your shoulders while the back of your head found its home against his chest. His heartbeat was steady, his breaths soft as your words soothed him like a lullaby soothes a child. It wasn’t long before he was nodding off, struggling to keep his eyes open, but he soon gave into sleep and you followed shortly

“Joel! Help me, please! Joel!” Ellie’s screams were anguished. Frightened.

The steps leading to the basement seemed never ending as Joel raced down them. Adrenaline pumped fiercely in his veins. “Ellie!” He screamed, voice raw and cracking. His fists pounded on the door as he desperately tried to break it down. Her terrified screams rattled his skull as the thin skin of his knuckles tore and bled. “Baby girl!” He cried.

Ellie’s screams for help dissipated and turned into a harsh ringing in his ears. The never ending staircase and basement door ceased to exist.

“Joel! Joel! Wake up! Please, wake up!” Your tone was urgent, frightened as you grasped his shoulders firmly to shake him free of his nightmare.

His screams sent a wave of nausea rushing through you . “Joel, you’re safe! It's just a nightmare! It's not real, Joel!”

His eyes snapped open as he took in a lungful of air. His arms encircled around your waist as he looked around the room wildly. His shirt was soaked all the way through. “Ellie! She–she. I–I couldn’t reach her! I couldn’t save her!” He wailed profusely as you tried every attempt to calm him down.

“Joel. Listen to me, baby. It was a nightmare. It wasn’t real. Ellie is safe. She’s safe!” Your hands came to gently rest upon his cheeks as if your fingertips alone could wipe away the fear leaking from his eyes. You kissed away his tears as he trembled in your embrace. He wept as you consoled him.

Your fingers combed through his hair as you began to hum a tune of the past as one last final attempt to bring him back down to earth. Your humming transformed into words as his heart beat steadied its rhythm.

“And you will keep me safe.” You whispered.

“And you will keep me warm.” He croaked.

“And rain.”

“And rain.” He followed with a soft painful whimper.

“Will make the flowers.”

“Will make the flowers grow.” You wept in unison.

Joel awoke the following morning, rising with the sun that was beginning to peek through the beige curtains in his cozy bedroom. He was careful not to disturb you in your peaceful slumber as he detangled his legs from your own before swinging them over the side of the bed with a soft grunt. Despite the familiar ache in his back, he urged himself to stand as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The floorboards creaked beneath the weight of his footsteps as he padded off to his connected bathroom. Despite the nightmare he endured just a few hours ago, he felt moderately well rested. He splashed a bit of luke-warm water onto his face before he proceeded to brush his teeth.

He returned to his side of the bed shortly after as he quietly dressed for the day before he scribbled down a note for you to awake to. The last thing he wanted was for you to think that he was leaving in a hurry, or feeling like the events that took place last night were a mistake. That couldn’t be any further from the truth. His handwriting was chicken scratch compared to your gentle strokes of the pen, but was legible at least.

Good morning, darlin.’ I'm headed down to the stables to build a pen for Honey. Help yourself to some coffee, and whatever else you’d like. I’ll be back in time to take you to breakfast.

-Your Joel.

So what if he was a bit of a sap, you were, after all, the first person he showed vulnerability to since Tess. This was as big a deal for him as it was for you, but it felt natural. As natural as breathing, as putting one foot in front of the other.

He found Honey still curled up in the corner of the couch as he stopped to give the fawn a gentle pat on her furry little head. He couldn’t help but think of the horrors that would have been unleashed on her if he didn’t rescue her in the woods. Surely, she would have been ripped to shreds.

Vile.

With one final delicate pat to her head, he reached for the blanket that was wrapped around the tiny creature, and gently tucked the corners in so she was a nice snug bug in a rug. he shuffled away to tug on his working boots before he grabbed his every-day use tool box from the closet. A ghost of a smile was tugging on his lips as he swung the metal loop of his house keys between his fingers. He was so lucky to know that just up the stairs, you lay beneath his sheets.

Even in the early morning hours, Joel could taste humidity on his tongue. July was already proving to be a sweltering one. He was too caught up in his saccharine thoughts of you back in his cozy home, to hear footsteps approaching behind him. Well, it also didn’t help that he was partially deaf in his right ear.

When he pushed open the stable doors, he was greeted with a few friendly nickers as he made his way down the stall aisle. He had developed a particular soft spot for your mare, Tess, for obvious reasons. She was sweet, gentle, kind-hearted just like you. And as silly as it may sound, he saw his Tess in your mare’s eyes.

Tex’s sleek black neck was already craning over his stall door as he pressed his velvet soft muzzle into Joel’s flannel pocket affectionately.

“Ah, I see. Am I jus’ a treat dispenser to ya now, Tex? Knew that Beanie was gonna give ya a sweet tooth.” He murmured with a deep chuckle as he set his tool box down alongside the outside of Tex’s stall. “I think your lady deserves a sugar cube first, dontcha think?”

Tex pawed the loose hay in his stall with a soft snort as Joel reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of sugarcubes to give to Tess. She didn’t like most men in Jackson, but she already adored your Joel.

The tender felt moment between beast and man was cut short from the sound of the stable doors creaking open once more. There was a sudden edge to the docile air as Lucas strode in casually.

Joel’s jaw clenched harshly under the dust filled light rays that trickled in through the cracks in the stables roof. Golden light flooded through the spaces between the wood as his eyes narrowed downwards between his boots. He was not in the mood for conversation of any kind this early in the morning, and especially not from an individual he already believed to be suspicious.

“Miller?” Lucas asked as he approached with his arms swaying at his sides. “What’re you doin’ up so early?”

“Could ask you the same,” The older man muttered under his breath.

Lucas heard him, but pretended he didn’t. “What was that?”

Joel kicked at a stray rock with the toe of his boot as he straightened himself up so that he could appear more intimidating. “I think you heard exactly what I said.”

Lucas raised a brow with an amused grin as he stopped in front of Tess’s stall. “You really can’t fuckin’ stand me, huh?” Before Joel could answer, Lucas waved him off as if they were friends having a minor disagreement.

Tess immediately took a few nervous steps back from where Lucas was leaning against the side of her stall door. Her sudden erratic behavior set Tex off immediately as he pawed the ground fiercely, and flattened his ears to the back of his skull. A territorial display that sent hairs standing up on the back of Joel’s neck almost immediately.

Joel knew that horses had a tendency to be sensitive towards certain people, but he had never seen Tess respond in this manner. It was..odd.

Lucas paid no mind to the mare's behavior as he focused his attention back on the older man. “So, who does this beauty belong to anyway?”

Joel started to stiffen before he relaxed his shoulders with a slow roll. “She’s Beanie’s.” he muttered flatly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a few more sugar cubes and held them outstretched in his palm towards Tess.

Your mare took a few timid steps forwards, before she gently ate the treats right from Joel’s palm. However, as soon as Lucas reached his hand upwards to stroke her snow white neck, she shied away from his touch as the whites of her eyes shone like two pale ghosts as Tex proceeded to send his hoof colliding loudly into the side of his stall; don’t mess with his lady.

Lucas oddly didn’t seem fazed by the mare’s bizarre behavior as he shrugged his shoulders with exaggerated casualness, “mares have never been a fan of me.”

“Can’t imagine why.” Was Joel’s gruff response as he turned his back to pick up his toolbox once more. He proceeded to ignore the ‘intruder’ as he set to work on building a pen for Honey right next to Tex’s stall. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

The only problem was that Lucas had a godawful time at reading the fucking room, or he was doing this to get a rise out of Joel on purpose.

“Speaking of you and Beanie, what’s goin’ on between the two of you anyway? Hearin’ whisperin’s here and there that you and her are like an item.” He drawled smoothly.

“Ain’t think that’s much of your concern, or business to have, Lucas.” Joel’s tone was muffled as he spoke into the fabric of his flannel along his shoulder.

“Ah, I hear ya there, brother. Gotta be careful with a woman like that. They can be real heartbreakers if ya ain’t careful.”

He’s baiting you, Joel. Don’t fall for it.

“Yeah? How would you know the type of woman she is, and isn’t?” Joel delivered his response with ease as he pulled out a tape measure.

“Not sayin’ that I do, jus’ that I've been around enough women like her to know what I'm talkin’ about. And a woman like that can’t be held down. They’re flighty and callus. One second you think you’re special to them, and the next—”

“Well, who said anythin’ about me wantin’ to hold her down? She’s her own person, Lucas. I don’t own her.” Joel gritted through his teeth.

Don’t give in. Don’t give in.

Joel could hear the younger, cockier man smirking through his teeth. “So, she’s not your girl then is what you’re sayin?’ Huh. I surely thought you two were an item.”

The sound of the tape measurer clanking into the toolbox with a loud thud was all Lucas needed to know that he won. Joel straightened his back as he stood up and whipped around, fully ready to go toe to toe to get this gnat out of his face.

“Y’know what you remind me of? A snake.” Joel seethed as his fists trembled at his sides. “A snake in the tall weeds just waiting to strike. What’s your angle, Lucas?” his eyes narrowed as Lucas watched in pure amusement to watch the brave and unmovable Joel Miller slowly losing his composure.

“A snake, huh? Think more like a wolf. And you’re the boneheaded moose thinkin’ you’re unbreakable. Look at you now, Joel Miller. Trembling with rage from just my words. You know what I think?” He leaned in close enough just in case the older man couldn’t clearly hear him. “Even the strongest moose can be taken down by a pack.” He sneered.

Something inside of Joel snapped like a coil being pulled tight and he saw red as his hands grasped the lapels of the younger man's shirt with a furious rage.’ “Y’want me to go ahead and fuckin’ break the other wrist, huh?! Cus�� I can do that. Right here. Right now if you wanna keep makin’ these threats. We can have a real fuckin—”

“HEY! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOIN’ ON HERE?” It was Tommy, and Joel had never felt so relieved to see his brother in that moment as he released Lucas from his death-grip grasp.

Lucas looked like a deer in headlights as he was not expecting Tommy’s sudden arrival. Yet, he held his composure as he combed his fingers through his hair. “Your brother here was jus’ threatening to break my other wrist jus’ now.”

“Yeah, I heard that bit, right after you threatened him first. Get lost, now. Before I change my mind and report this directly to Maria. The hell you thinkin’ rilin’ my brother up like that?!”

Lucas was dumbfounded and ego-wounded. Most importantly, he was and always would be a coward. His eyes locked on Joel’s, and then Tommy’s before he slunk away in a wolf-like fashion through the stable doors.

Neither Miller brother spoke for a while as it appeared they were processing what had happened. Joel opted to slowly sink down between Tex’s and Tess’s stall with his hands resting between his knees as he worked on steadying his heartbeat to normal.

“Hey, Tommy?” Joel started, “How much of a’that did ya hear?”

“Enough to know that Lucas was purposely trying to get a rise out of you.” Tommy responded as he walked over to Timber’s stall and tightly shook his head.

Joel breathed out an immediate sigh of relief as he slumped back against the stall doors. “Tommy? Did Lucas show up to Jackson before, or after you and Maria found Beanie?”

Both brothers slowly met one another's gaze as Tommy gently stroked Timber’s neck with a steady palm. “After,” he confirmed Joel’s immediate suspicions.

Joel watched in silence as his brother walked over to him before he bent down and offered Joel his hand to help him up.

“Tommy, how come I didn’t hear ya come in?” Joel mumbled as he firmly grasped his brother’s hand before pulling himself up to his feet with a grunt.

Tommy could feel his heart begin to slowly sink into the pit of his stomach. Just like the way that the sun would gradually dip behind the horizon at the end of each day. He gave his brother a mournful look as he gently placed his hand along the right side of Joel’s head, and brushed his thumb across the scar. Right against the spot where the bullet missed. “Y’know why, brother.” He murmured softly with a heavy heart.

Joel knew, it was there, written into his skin. He swallowed his tears that were beginning to brew as he wrapped his arms around his brother and hugged him tightly. “Tommy, somethin’ ain’t right here. I’m gettin’ that sick feelin’ in my stomach. Were you here to see the way Tess acted towards Lucas?”

“Somethin’ definitely ain’t right. I told ya that I’d have your back, big brother. Remember? I arrived a bit too late. Musta missed that bit.”

Joel nodded as he slowly dropped his arms to his sides. “Well, she flipped out. I’m talkin’ like a complete 180 as soon as Lucas tried to touch her, Tommy. Pissed Tex the hell off as well. Somethin’ about it was...odd. Almost like she recognized his face or, she jus’ could sense that he ain’t a good person.”

“Well, horses are pretty sensitive creatures, so it is possible that maybe...”

Joel’s jaw inwardly clenched as his brain was replaying the events that just took place. There were numerous red flags that went ablazing. Tess’s fear towards Lucas. Lucas prying for information… And what the hell was the whole thing about him referring to himself as a wolf, and Joel as the boneheaded moose?

“I think we oughta start keepin’ a watchful eye on him. For all we know, he could be plannin’ somethin’ right under our noses. Tommy, the last thing you and I or Maria want is for someone to turn up missing. What about Ellie and Dina? The rest of the women around here? The sooner we–”

“Joel,” Tommy started with a heavy sigh, “I hear ya, but we need evidence. Cold. Hard. Evidence. I’d start by documenting what happened just now. Write it down in full detail. I’ll write up my own report on it as well. In the meantime, I'll keep an eye on his whereabouts, alright?”

Joel let out a heavy sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“Yeah, cus’ that’s the only way Maria would ever believe us.”

“We need to have shit to back up our accusations.” “Hey, while you’re here, mind helpin’ me build this pen for Honey? I gotta get back home in time to take Beanie to breakfast. I left her a note, but I don’t want her thinkin’ that I ditched her or somethin’.” Joel casually stated. Once he realized what he said, it was too late, and Tommy already had a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

“Hold on a second now. Did you n’Beanie have a sleepover last night? As in she slept in your bed? Woo doggy, it’s about damn time!” Tommy nearly hollered as he went to give his brother a proper slap on his back.

Joel’s entire face turned beet red as he coughed into the sleeve of his flannel to hopefully hide his obvious blushing. “Uhh–yeah. You can call it a sleepover, I guess? Look, I don’t need ya goin’ and makin’ a big deal outta this. We kissed, and then I asked her if she would spend the night. That’s all that happened.” Well, we kissed a few times actually.

“Y’all kissed?! Joel, this is a big deal! Are ya kiddin’ me? Big brother, this is amazing news! Look at you bein’ the romantic!”

Joel let out a frustrated groan when he realized he wasn’t gonna get out of this one that easily. “Yeah. Yeah. We kissed, and I really like her, Tommy. So, can we just keep this between the two of us? I don’t want Maria, or anyone else for that matter gossipin’ about my private life.”

“Riiiight. Cus’ I’m jus’ gonna go and shout it from the rooftops that my big brother finally grew a pair and kissed the girl. Thank fuck. Honestly, I'm surprised it didn’t happen sooner.” The younger Miller brother was genuinely happy for his older counterpart. Everyone deserved that someone in their life, but Joel especially.

“I was jus’ buying myself time. Last thing I'd ever wanna do is unintentionally offend or hurt her. Now, will ya do some work for once in your life and hand me those wooden boards o’there?” he gestured to the planks of wood that were resting along one of the empty stalls. “All I will say is that woman is amazing. Not to sound like a total cliché, but she’s a breath of fresh air. Sunlight after a raging storm. She’s–”

“Made of stardust and coffee beans.” Tommy chimed in with a playful grin. “Well, you got it bad, Joel. S’alright. Happens to the best of us.” He shot his brother a knowing wink before he retrieved the wooden boards with ease.

Joel couldn’t help but allow a tiny glimpse of a smile tug on his lips from Tommy’s words. A moment of peace and blissful thoughts was better than dwelling on the elephant in the room. Something was unquestionably off about Lucas, and his rather alarming behavior.

*end Joel’s POV*

In the safety and familiar warmth of Joel’s sheets, your mind was free to wander and romp. Your brain's natural defenses to block out painful memories and terrifying events, crumbled as you subconsciously breathed in the comforting scent of Joel, your Joel. Unbeknownst to you, he was your ticket to peace. Your shining beacon of light through a pitch black formidable darkness.

As a gentle breeze swayed through the curtains in his bedroom, you were subconsciously reliving your time before Jackson. Before Maria, Tommy, and Joel. Memories that were once fragmented and jagged, were being pieced together behind softly closed lashes.

dead of the winter; post outbreak. Date unspecified. 50 miles from Jackson.

Tess was gradually growing weaker with each step she took through the billowing snow. Your horse was strong-footed and able bodied, but even she had her limits. You were beginning to feel numbness engulf your body. It felt like a thousand shards of ice impaling your skin. Your lungs ached and burned from the sub-zero temperatures. Your fingers and toes were growing stiff as you urged your mare onwards.

“Just a bit further, please, Tess. We—we can’t stop now.” You murmured through chattering teeth as the wind whipped wildly and howled in your ears.

All hope seemed to disintegrate through your frozen lashes as you could feel your body begin to shut down. It was giving up, but you weren’t ready for death's cold grasp.

You were a survivor, after all.

Smoke. Fire. Warmth.

A miracle, or a hallucination created by your deteriorating body. The fact of the matter was that you were not going to die tonight. Tess seemed to sense your desperation and urgency as she forced herself to continue forward towards the looming evergreens. The distinguishable smell of ash wafted through your nostrils the closer you drew to the campsite. You knew that fire also meant danger, but your brain had gone into survival mode and could give less of a fuck about that.

The campsite you and Tess stumbled upon seemed to be unoccupied. It should have raised your suspicions, but when you collapsed from your saddle and landed on the snowy ground with a soft thud, you convinced yourself it was a miracle. You dragged yourself closer to the fire with whatever strength you had left and rubbed your frozen gloved hands together to create some friction.

Tess’s velvet soft muzzle nudged at your back as she checked to make sure that you were okay. Her ears perked and flicked in the direction of a familiar nicker as she lifted her head quickly to observe her surroundings. Four horses were seen happily munching away on a heap of hay. Your poor mare hadn’t eaten in what felt like weeks, and her own survival instincts kicked in as she approached the other horses with timid curiosity.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you hunched over in relief. You didn’t believe in God, but if you did, then this fire must have been brought to you by a goddamn angel.

Your relief turned to dread the moment you felt the cooling sensation of metal kissing the back of your neck.

“Don’t fuckin’ move.” The voice commanded as you slowly raised your arms above your head to show that you were no immediate threat.

“I’m—sorry. I assumed no one was here—I’m freezing.” Your teeth were still audibly chattering as you craned your neck to look up at the person the voice belonged to.

A man.

“Are you alone?” He had not removed the barrel of his gun from your neck as he proceeded to pat you down with his freehand.

“Yes, I am alone.”

He paused momentarily as he pondered on what should be done with you, the intruder.

“Where are you headed to?” He asked firmly.

“Nowhere. Just got caught up in this storm, and seeking shelter.”

“I see..and you’re not lyin’ when you said that you’re alone?”

“I swear on my life, I am alone. It’s just my horse Tess and I.” You pleaded softly as you took a shaky inhale through your nose.

“I believe you.”

Your shoulders immediately slumped in relief as you released the breath you were holding.

The man slowly retracted his gun into his holster before he offered you his hand. The first thing you noticed was his tattooed skin on the inside of his wrist. The fabric of his jacket had lifted just enough for you to make out the design. A wolf head with beady red eyes that appeared to be staring right into your soul.

“Thank you. I’ll be out of your hair by the morning. I just need to warm up a bit if that’s alright?” You grasped his outstretched hand as he gently hoisted you to your feet.

“Nonsense. You’re freezin’, and probably starvin’, right? C’mon, let’s get you somethin’ to eat.”

You were beyond starving, but he didn’t need to know that. You were slightly weary of this stranger's sudden hospitality, but that didn’t deter you from making the choice that would haunt you forever.

��I suppose..I could eat something.” You mumbled under your breath.

He smiled, it appeared genuine on the surface, but it masked unspeakable evil beneath white teeth, and kind eyes.

He told you his name, and you told him yours as he led you to his nearby tent. Your body shamelessly relaxed as he offered you safety and food in your belly. If only you knew what was to come.

You didn’t leave the following morning. Or the morning after . Nor the morning after that. You stuck around because the truth was, you weren’t going to survive on your own for much longer, and here was an opportunity that your brain was screaming at you to not pass up on. Endure and survive, and survive you did. Even if it meant joining a raiders camp.

It didn’t happen overnight, as trust takes time to be built and nurtured, but when it did happen, the lines were gradually blurred. Was this a genuine feeling from your heart that hadn’t been touched by another soul since before the outbreak, or was this simply your brain concocting a plan to keep your heart beating, and your blood pumping. The fact of the matter was that you firmly believed your body was incapable of dipping back into the shredded remnants of intimacy that you left behind in Austin. One thing was for certain, this man offered you protection, warmth, and steady nutrients, and you’d be damned if you let that go.

In your eyes, you consensually engaged in a physical relationship with this man. Make him want you. Make him need you so much that you’ll never live in fear again. Because once you make him believe that he is important, he’ll protect you till your last dying breath.

If only it were that easy. If only you knew that the monsters weren’t the cordyceps, but instead they were shaped as a man that you willingly shared a tent with.

You thought you had played him like a fiddle, but he was onto you without you realizing it. He had your little game all figured out, and when you did, it was too late.

Those same kind eyes, and bright smile was the last thing you remember seeing before everything went black as your body slumped into his lap. The tea mug that was in your hands now clattered to the ground, shattering upon impact. Your arm fell limp at your side as your breath stilled. Unbeknownst to you, the tea he gave you was laced, and now you were at his mercy.

When you awoke the following morning, your mind was groggy and laden with confusion as you tried to piece together the missing fragments of last night’s events . The ground was cold beneath you as your eyes fluttered open. The coolness of metal bit fiercely at your bare skin giving you goosebumps You were encaged; literally. Surrounded by steel bars as you struggled to pull yourself up into a sitting position, but it felt like your body weighed a ton of bricks. You tried to scream, but your vocal chords felt shot as your voice fell silent.

You shook the bars with a new instilled fear as tears flooded your cheeks like a rushing river. Your eyes frantically looked around as a heavy pair of boots slowly approached.

“Wouldn’t do that if I was you, princess.” The familiar voice cooed unpleasantly and bile rose up your throat.

“You—you did this to me! Why?!” Your voice cracked. Your brain was scrambling to piece your broken memory together. One moment you were drinking tea, and the next—

“You played me for a fuckin’ fool. Thought you could just use me for your own survival, huh? Well, baby, hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you ain’t fuckin’ goin’ anywhere.”

“What—what are you talking about?! What did you do to me?! Where are my clothes?!”

He crouched down as his cruel gaze met your frightened one. His hand grasped your chin harshly as he yanked your face against the bars that encaged you. “I put you in your fucking place. Did you really think I wouldn’t catch onto your little game? You think you’re so fuckin’ smart, huh? You thought you had me all figured out. That’s where you’re wrong, baby. Oh so wrong. You’re the fuckin’ fool.”

“Please, I’m sorry! I wasn’t—you’ve got it all wrong! I swear!” You pleaded desperately as he dug the blunt end of his fingernails into your chin.

“Oh, my dear sweet, naive creature, you walked right into the wolves fuckin’ den without even realizing it. You’re the fool for trusting me, and now you’re gonna pay for it until I decide to put you out of your misery. Save your tears, princess. You’re gonna need them.”

You woke up in a thick pool of sweat. The sheets clung to your skin like glue, and it felt like you were trapped. Joel’s bedroom sickly transformed into steel bars. Cold, and biting at your raw skin. You blinked, hoping this was all a hallucination. Your mind just playing a twisted trick on your fragile state. You called for Joel. You called for anyone who could possibly hear your pleas. The more you struggled, the more the bars seemed to close in on you. Suffocating. Stripping your lungs of all oxygen as your hands clawed at your throat.

Where was Joel?

You squeezed your eyes shut tight to the point where it felt painful. Seconds ticked before you finally threw the covers from your body with a strangled gasp. Your eyes shot open as you surveyed your surroundings. The steel bars were gone. The tattoo—

Tattoo

Wolf head

Beady red eyes

You chanted these three phrases under your breath like a woman gone mad. Your skin was clammy to the touch as you stumbled away from the bed.

Tattoo

Wolf head

Beady red eyes

Write this down.

Your eyes frantically locked in on the note that was left along the nightstand. You snatched it up in a fury. Your vision darted across every word on the page as if it held some hidden clue between the lines.

You continued to recite the three phrases as you tucked the note into the pocket of the flannel pajama bottoms you were wearing. Your ears picked up on the familiar sound of the front door being unlocked. Your feet seemed to carry you faster than your brain could process as you stumbled out of Joel’s bedroom.

Tattoo

Wolf head

Beady red eyes

“Joel!” You yelled urgently from the top of the stairs

“Beanie!” He answered back with the same level of urgency. He met you at the halfway point of the staircase before you collapsed into his arms.

“Beanie?! What’s wrong? Darlin’ what’s happened?” His arms remained anchored around your waist as you grasped his forearms tightly, he surely would have indents in his skin from your death grip.

“Tattoo. Wolf head. Beady red eyes.” You mumbled with your forehead pressed deeply into his chest.

“Beanie, what are you goin’ on about? What tattoo? Darlin’, this ain’t makin’ any sense at all! Please, tell me what’s going on?!” He tried his hardest not to yell, but after what happened in the stables, he was in fact freaking out.

“He—he has a tattoo! A tattoo on his wrist, Joel!” You spoke in a frantic, excitable tone.

“Beanie, who has a tattoo?” His tone was hushed, and far less frantic than your own.

You knew his name. You heard it in your nightmare. Five letters. You could say it. You could say it right now and it would all be over!

“The man. He—he has a tattoo. Right wrist, Joel! He has a tattoo. A wolf head! Beady red eyes! It’s on his wrist! I know it is—you have to believe me!”

“Beanie, darlin’, I believe you. Is this the man that?—“

it was as if everything came crashing down around you so suddenly. You stilled in his grasp. Your voice ran silent as you slowly lifted your head from his chest. Your eyes were glazed over as if you were dead inside. Perhaps you were. Perhaps your body was shutting down. Were you breathing? Was your heart pumping blood? Everything was sounding so fuzzy. So far away. The cage. The steel bars. No. No. No. please! You—you have it all wrong! I swear!

You couldn’t hear Joel screaming your name. You couldn’t feel his hands around your body. You couldn’t see him. You were reaching out for him and touching nothing but thin air.

“Beanie, what’s happening?! You’re scarin’ me!” He watched in horror as your eyes rolled back into your skull before you went limp in his arms.

“Doc, I don’t fucking understand. What the hell happened to her?! She was muttering under her breath. Something about a tattoo on a man’s wrist! Next thing I know, she’s talking as if I ain’t even there! Like she was reliving somethin?!’ Then her eyes roll back—and I fuckin’ thought she was dead!”

“Joel, I need you to calm down. She had an extremely intense PTSD episode. I’m not even sure if I have the qualifications to explain it. It was a panic attack that led to her body to shut down ...” The doctor spoke in a hushed tone.

“Don’t fuckin’ tell me to calm down! Do you have any idea what that was like to witness it?! I didn’t even fucking know how to help her, doc!” Joel was gripping his hair so tightly between his fists, it was shocking that he didn’t accidentally tear any strands out.

“Joel, I’m gonna need you to calm down, or you’re gonna get escorted out. Do I make myself clear? Not to mention, you’re gonna fucking hyperventilate if you keep this shit up! I need you to take some deep breaths and pull yourself together!” Doc sounded exasperated as he struggled to keep his own cool.

“Joel?! Hey, hey! C’mon, let’s go take a breather, okay? Ellie and Dina are in there with her. She’ll be fine. C’mon, let’s go take a walk.” Tommy had shown up at just the right time as Joel was thinking of all the ways he could ring up the doc.

Tommy whispered something in his brother's ear as he wrapped a strong arm around his shoulder before nearly having to drag the older Miller brother down the hall through the doors of the med ward.

“Beanie?” A familiar feminine voice asked softly from your bedside.

Ellie and Dina were seated next to the hospital bed that you currently laid in.

Your lashes fluttered open as you squinted up at the annoying bright buzzing fluorescent lights. Your head turned to the side of the scratchy pillow as your brain began to process who the voice belonged to.

“Ellie? Dina? Where—am I?” You whispered with uncertainty as the two teens slowly looked over at one another before returning their focus back onto you.

“Beanie,” Dina started, “you..had a panic attack.” Ellie murmured.

“What? I don’t remember any of it—who brought me here?”

“Joel did. He came rushing out of the house with you limp in his arms. He was yelling for help and we heard the commotion. Beanie, we thought you were dead.”

“When—did this happen?” You asked just nearly above a whisper as you began to cycle through your memories. Unfortunately, a huge chunk was missing and you could feel the frustration tears begin to brew along your waterline.

“This morning. Right before the breakfast bell.” Dina confirmed. She let go of Ellie’s hand as she reached for the box of tissues for you.

“What time is it now? How long have I been here?”

“An hour after the dinner bell went off. You’ve been unconscious all day, Beanie.” Ellie stood up from the chair and approached your bedside slowly sinking down along the edge of the worn mattress. “Can we get you anything? You must be starving.”

Your body sunk further into the mattress as the weight of Ellie’s words made their mark. It felt like it had only been minutes, when it had in fact been hours. “Some water, and—bread with honey? If the mess hall is still open.” You were feeling quite parched.

“Of course. C’mon, Dee. We might have to bribe Angie to whip something up. We’ll be right back. Okay, Beanie?” Ellie gently patted your covered knee before she stood up from the edge of the bedside and offered her hand to Dina.

“Okay.” You weakly responded.

Shortly after the girls left, the door opened once more. Your mind had already hoped it was Joel, but instead you were met with a different pair of brown eyes; Tommy’s.

“Hey, how are we feelin?’” The younger Miller brother softly asked as he sank down into one of the chairs.

“Where’s Joel, Tommy?”

“He’s outside takin’ a breather. Got pretty mouthy with doc, so I stepped in before things coulda gotten ugly. He’ll be alright though. Jus’ need him to blow off some steam first. He’s a bit too excitable to be in here right now.”

You could faintly taste copper along your tongue as you slowly sat up. The right side of your mouth felt swollen and tender, and when you reached your hand up to touch the outside of your cheek, Tommy gently grabbed your wrist and lowered it back down to your side.

“Y’tore your mouth up pretty good. Doc said it’ll heal on its own, but to try and not chew on the right side. Don’t wanna go and irritate it.”

“Tommy, I don’t remember what happened. None of it.”

“Beanie, it’s okay. It was a panic attack. The Doc believes you to have PTSD. You’re gonna be alright. Joel told me that before you passed out, you were muttering about a tattoo on a man’s wrist? Beanie, I know how adamant my brother is about protecting you, but I am too. So, if there’s anything you remember outside of the tattoo, I need you to tell me, okay?” Tommy was a good person. You knew this since him and Maria saved you all those years ago. He never treated you differently. You could trust him just as much as you could trust Joel.

Five letters. Tattoo. Wolf head. Beady eyes.

Tommy wrote everything down.

Ellie and Dina came back with water, bread with honey plus a bit of chili from the mess hall. When Angie heard the news, she wasted no time to whip something up for you. She was such a giving person.

Doc didn’t have any helpful information to relay back to you. He basically just told you to take it easy, and to let your mouth heal. He had no answers to your questions, psychiatry isn’t his field after all. And this made you feel like you truly were just a nutty coffee woman. Maybe even a lost cause. It wasn’t until deep into the night when your Joel finally made an appearance.

You were half asleep when you heard the sound of one of the chairs scrape across the flooring. The sound nearly had you shooting up from the covers before two strong, yet gentle pair of hands eased you back down.

“Shh. It’s okay, Beanie. It’s just me. It’s just Joel.” He reassured you as he slowly sank down into the chair as he removed his hands from your shoulders and rested them between his knees.

Your eyes zoned in on the gauze wrapped around his bicep as he cleared his throat softly.

“Joel, what happened to you?” You timidly asked.

“S’just a scratch, darlin.’ You were holding onto me pretty dang tight. Broke the skin a little, but I’m okay.”

“Joel, I’m so sorry. I never intended to hurt you. I don’t even remember grabbing onto you like that. Where were we when it happened?”

“Beanie, it’s okay. You didn’t hurt me, Angel. You were havin’ a panic attack in the middle of the staircase. I came home from the stables, and you came rushing down, and we met halfway. It all happened so fast.”

“Joel, I did hurt you. You’re fucking injured because of me. I’m so sorry.”

Look what you’ve done.

He’s really going to think that you're just a nutty coffee woman now.

“Beanie, I need you to believe me when I tell you it’s okay. You didn’t have any control of your actions, and I’d never hold that against you, okay? Y’just, you had me so freaked out. You stopped breathing. I couldn’t find your pulse, and I thought you were dead. Thought you had a heart attack or somethin’. Scared me so bad. I’m just so happy that you’re okay.” He was reaching for your hand now as his fingers loosely interlocked with your own.

“I stopped..breathing? Oh god, Joel. I—I don’t even know what to say. Doc didn’t even have much of an explanation for me. Just told me to take it easy and to be gentle with my mouth.”

“He’s fuckin’ useless. I wish he had the answers for you, Beanie. I really wish he did. But, the good news is that I can take ya home whenever you’d like, okay? We can stop by your place, and then head back to mine.”

“Joel, what are you talking about? Why can’t I go back to my home?” He saw the confused frown appear on your lips as he let out a heavy sigh. His thumb gently stroked the outside of your hand as his eyes met yours.

“Beanie, I know you ain’t gonna agree to this, but I think it’s best that for the time being you stay at my place. I want to make sure that you have the time to recover, and the girls would love to spend some more time with you. It’ll only be for a little while. I promise.”

“Joel, I appreciate your offer, but I just want to go home. Can I please go home?”

“Honey, I know you do, but this will only be for a few days tops. I would never force you to agree to this. I’m just suggestin’ it for your own well-being, okay? Jus’ need ya to trust me to trust you. Y’remember that day, dontcha baby?”

Even your stubbornness had its limits. Despite not initially agreeing, you could tell just from Joel’s eyes alone, that he just wanted to take care of you. Perhaps his initial reasoning was a little selfish, but it undoubtedly felt good knowing that someone in this world cared about you so much, that your well-being was important to them.

“Okay. I trust you, Joel.” You squeezed his hand firmly as he gave you a reassuring nod.

Joel gave you all the time that you needed to gather up your belongings from home. He assured you that this would only be temporary, and he just wanted to make sure that you would heal. You were too exhausted to put up a fight as you zipped your backpack up with a sigh.

You loosely held hands the entire short walk back to his home. You could faintly hear girlish giggles coming from the otherside of the front door as he unlocked it.

“Tommy sent Ellie and Dina over to keep an eye on Honey. We finished buildin’ her pen next to Tex earlier this morning.” He murmured softly as he pushed the handle down and nudged it open with his shoulder.

A smile began to slowly creep over your tired features as Ellie, Dina, and a very playful Honey were seen in your peripheral. Dina was laying between Ellie’s arms on the couch while she was holding the baby bottle at Honey’s level. The young fawn was happily drinking her fill from the bottle, her fluffy white tail wagging happily.

Joel brushed past you with ease before he cleared his throat. “Hey, if you want, y’girls can take Honey up to Ellie’s for the night?”

Ellie briefly made eye contact with Joel before she returned her gaze to the sweet giggles coming from Dina. “Are you sure that’s alright?”

“Positive. S’late , and Beanie oughta be gettin’ some sleep.” Joel replied.

“Alright. We’ll get out of your hair then, Joel. C’mon, Dee, let’s go to bed.” She gave Dina’s shoulder a soft squeeze.

Joel watched silently as the two girls departed from the couch. Dina was protectively holding Honey in her arms now as if she was a small child. The two girls nodded in your direction before they headed upstairs to Ellie’s room.

He didn’t sleep a wink. Last night’s nightmare a long forgotten memory. He wanted to make sure you were okay. So, he stayed up for the rest of the night thinking about you and Ellie.

Two days had passed since your panic attack. Joel would be with you in the early mornings before he’d be whisked off on patrol, and he’d be with you in the evenings. When he wasn’t around during the day, you were graced by both Dina and Ellie’s presence. You weren’t aware of it yet, but both girls cared for you deeply. Girlhood was alive and well in Jackson.

You spent the afternoon in the stables with Ellie and Dina Spending time with the horses and Honey. The young fawn was settling into her new home under the watchful eye of both Tex and Tess.

In the evening, shortly after dinner, you suggested to the girls that it would be fun to have a proper girls night. Face masks, movies, snacks, and of course some crafting. You showed them how to make paint paste from crushing down flower petals and adding a bit of water to turn the powder into a workable paste. A dash of olive oil helped lessen the grainy texture. You promised them that at a later date, you’d show them how to spin the clay wheel, just as you promised Joel.

The record player was crackling softly when the front door squeaked open and closed. Joel hung his rifle along the side of the door before he sunk down onto the bench with a soft grunt. His back hurt ten times more than usual today. He and Tommy patrolled for miles under the sweltering sun. And his frustrations were apparent as he unlaced his boots with a huff, and threw them to the side.

Ellie and Dina were seated at the kitchen table, focused on their paintings as you were making a plate of sandwiches to share. Despite being focused on the task at hand, you faintly heard the sound of the front door opening. You knew Joel was home, finally.

He was scrubbing his hands down his face when he heard your footsteps before you sat down along the wooden bench beside him.

“Hey.” He mumbled tiredly as he dropped his hands to his knees. “What’s goin’ on in there?” He questioned as he turned his body to face you, wincing from the strain it put on his back.

“Girls night. You wanna join? I just made some sandwiches.” You placed your hand gently across his own with a soft smile.

“Kind of you to offer, but I ain’t a girl. I don’t wanna spoil y’alls fun. I will, however, have a sandwich if there’s any to spare for me?” He forced a smile through his pain, clenching his jaw slightly.

“Joel, there’s plenty of sandwiches to go around. I’ll fix you a plate, alright?” You squeezed his hand soothingly.

“Thank you, doll. I’ll probably be out in the shed so y’girls have the house to yourselves.” He added.

“How was patrol?” You asked with genuine concern when you zoned in on the red, blistered patch spreading across the bridge of his nose. “You want some lotion for that? Sun must have been brutal out there.”

He scoffed under his breath as he leaned back against the wall. “It was shit.” He wanted to tell you more, but it was too risky. Too much was currently at stake, and he didn’t want to cause you unnecessary stress. You had been through too much. “Yeah, sun was brutal. Spent a lot of time out in the open plains. Ain’t much cover out there.” He drawled.

“I’m sorry, honey. ” You murmured as you reached your hand up and gently raked your fingers through his hair in a hope to bring him some form of comfort.

“S’okay, darlin.’ How are you doin?’” He asked softly as he leaned into your caress. His mind may have been a warzone, but his words masked it well enough.

“Pretty good. Honey is settling into her new home. I showed Ellie and Dina how to make their own paints from crushed up flower petals. We’re gonna do face masks soon and then watch a movie. Are ya sure you don’t want to join?” You leaned in, letting your fingers slowly drop from his hair, and brush across his weathered cheekbone.

“I’m glad to hear it. Face masks and a movie sound tempting, but I don’t wanna intrude and spoil y’alls fun.” He reassured you as he went in for a kiss. You must have sensed that he needed it as soon as his lips brushed yours, and your lashes fluttered shut. The sweet moment passed as he gently squeezed your knee before he pushed himself up from the bench. You watched as he shuffled down the hall and out of sight.

With a sigh you gathered up his discarded boots and placed them neatly on the doormat next to your own before returning to the kitchen. “Are you girls ready for some sandwiches and face masks?” You asked with a genuine smile as you clasped your hands together.

Both girls nodded and offered to help clean up the table first while you grabbed a plate and placed a couple sandwiches on it before making your way outside to Joel’s shed. You found him sitting in silence with his notebook open on a blank page, sans the title in the top right corner; To Bill and Frank. You set the plate down quietly, pressing a kiss to the side of his head before heading back inside the house.

Dina was in the family room with her own plate while Ellie was still putzing around the kitchen. It appeared as if she had been waiting for you to return based on the way she was nervously ringing her hands together.

“Hey, Beanie?” The teen asked as she eyed her drying painting.

“What’s up, kiddo?”

She took a deep breath before exhaling. “How’s um–how’s Joel doin’ lately?” She asked just above a whisper.

“He’s doing okay. Well, at least I think he is? I think Patrol is weighing on him lately. Y’know, I'm sure he’d love it if you asked him yourself.”

A pained expression crossed Ellie’s face as she brought her arms across her chest in a protective motion, shaking her head tightly at your suggestion. “I can’t do that, Beanie.”

“Ellie, look, I know that you and Joel aren’t on good terms right now, but–”

“What do you know of it?” She questioned.

Your eyes flickered to where Dina was sitting on the couch, and then back to Ellie as your shoulders slumped inwards. “Let's go upstairs for a minute to talk, okay? You can help me grab the skincare stuff.”

Ellie glanced back towards Dina before she nodded in agreement and followed you up the staircase.

“Beanie,” She started timidly, “Did Joel–did he tell you about me?” Ellie was a smart enough kid to know the answer, but she wanted to hear it directly from you.

“He did, a few days ago. The same night that you came home and found us in the kitchen. After you left, he told me about what he did to save you and that you’re distant from him because of it.”

Ellie fought the urge to laugh as she leaned against the bathroom sink with her arms crossed. You could see her fingers begin to tremble. “Yeah? Did he also fail to mention that he fuckin’ killed an entire hospital of Fireflies? And he took the choice of making my life matter away from me?” Her tone was bitter as she gnawed fiercely on her lower lip.

“Ellie, he told me everything, and the reason why he did it.” You reasoned with her as you set the jars of homemade clay masks down on the counter. “Before you jump to conclusions, I understand why you’re upset with him, Ellie.”

She looked surprised as she briefly made eye contact before staring at a chipped patch of paint on the wall. “So, you don’t agree with him then? Is that what you’re telling me? He took my choice away, Beanie. My life could have mattered, and he fuckin’ took that from me.” She whispered grimly as stubborn tears began to trickle down her cheekbones.

“Ellie, your feelings are completely valid. But, your life does matter. You are so important. I know it feels like everything has been ripped from you, but you mean so much to him, Tommy, Dina,myself. I know it’s hard, I know it is, kid. He did what every parent would do for their child, biological or not. He’ll always believe that what he did was right, and that will never change.” You reached your hand up and gently placed it along her shoulder as more tears began to fall.

“I just wish he had given me that choice, Beanie. After everything he and I went through? For what? For my immunity to just be fuckin’ wasted? What if there was a chance? What if this cure–” She clenched her fists tightly as she tucked her chin against her shoulder to try and block out the tears.

“Ellie, the journey that you and Joel took together was not wasted. You survived together. You helped him in more ways than you and I can even begin to imagine. You saved him just as much as he saved you. Ellie, he loves you. He loves you so goddamn much. The world is filled with cruel people. People who take advantage of others weaknesses. People who were born with hate in their hearts, and people who learned to hate. To be cruel. To hurt those around them. Do you know what you’ve done for him, Ellie? You taught that man how to unlearn his hatred for the world. You did that, kiddo.”

Ellie’s sniffles echoed against the faded tiles as she wiped her tears on her sleeve. Her perspective of her purpose in life, and her immunity had been skewed for so many years. Marlene told her she could change the world. She could save everyone. She was manipulated into believing that there could be a cure, and as soon as her assumed purpose was ripped away from her, she felt useless.

“There never was going to be a cure, was there? I was..going to die for nothing?” She questioned somberly as her glassy eyes met your empathy filled ones.

“I don’t have that answer for you, kiddo. I’m sorry. Look, I won’t tell you what you should do, but if you find it in your heart to forgive him, start by talking to him, okay? Whenever you feel ready.” You squeezed her shoulder with a reassuring nod.

“And from there?” She asked in hope that somehow you would have all the answers.

“You both get to live in peace as father and daughter.” You concluded.

Ellie was throwing her arms around your neck in an instant, hugging you tightly as she buried her face into your shoulder, sobbing softly.

You let your own arms drape loosely around the teen’s frame as you hugged. You whispered to her that everything would be alright in the end.

“He’s so lucky to have you, Beanie. You’re one in a million, and I'm happy that he has someone. He’s been through so much.” She murmured against your shirt, using the fabric as the vessel to catch her free falling tears.

“You’re one in a million too, kiddo.” You whispered softly, eyes glistening as you rubbed soothing circles into her back.

Joel was sitting out on the back porch. Seated with his guitar comfortably laying across his lap as he plucked a few strings. After writing the letter to Bill and Frank, he needed to take an emotional break from his current feelings. Music always helped, and music connected him to Sarah and Tommy. He was grateful for the fact that he could enjoy something as simple as playing a few strings on a guitar.

Ellie didn’t approach at first. She was nervous, evidently. After her heartfelt discussion with you, she made the conscious decision to finally take the first step in forgiving Joel for what he had taken from her.

Her boots creaked along the wood as his head slowly lifted. His lips parted, eyes glimmering in pure surprise as he set his guitar down to the side.

“Hey, kiddo.” He murmured in acknowledgement of her presence.

Ellie didn’t respond as she walked towards the railing along the porch and placed her hands against the ledge. Her shoulders were tense and stiff as he approached alongside her, owl mug clasped between his palms as his safety net.

“What’re you drinkin?’” She asked while looking down at faded wood on the railing.

“Coffee.” He responded softly while resting his arms over the ledge. “Shouldn’t y’be in there for girls night?” He brought the rim of the mug up to his lips before taking an inaudible sip.

“I just wanted to come out here for a bit of fresh air.” Ellie mumbled her little white lie.

“Oh, I see. Well, I don’t wanna go disturbin’ your fresh air.” He went to walk away, but Ellie stopped him.

“Joel, that’s not what I meant. Look, I just. Fuck, I’m so stupid.” She whispered under her breath.

“Kiddo, you’re not stupid. I jus–” He was cut off by her words slicing through the balmy air like a sharpened blade.

“I was supposed to die in that hospital, Joel. That was my purpose. And my life would have fuckin’ mattered, but you took that from me. I know you were just doin’ what you believed to be the right thing, Joel. I know you were just tryin’ to save me, but I can’t just let that go. I still lay awake at night thinking about what would have happened if I had died in that hospital. If the doctors extracted the cordyceps from my brain and created a cure, maybe the world would be a different place than it is now. I guess we’ll never know because there is zero chance of ever creating the vaccine.” She fought through fresh tears. In truth, she wanted to yell. To scream and pound her fists into his chest, but she knew this was for the better.

“Ellie, if I was ever given the chance, I’d do it all over again.” His eyes locked on hers. “I know I took that choice from you, but Marlene did as well. Why else do you think we were ambushed? Marlene knew that I wouldn’t let you go through with it had I known that you would have to die. I trusted Marlene , and she wouldn’t even let us say goodbye. To talk to you one last time. I asked and she took you to surgery while I was out cold.. I know it was selfish of me. I know it was, but losing the world felt unbearable and I had to save it.” He was visibly showing discomfort by the way his fingers flexed and trembled against the outside of the mug. His words fell heavy as he awaited Ellie’s response.

“Joel, you didn’t save the world. You took the last shred of hope that humanity had and fuckin’ crushed it! I could have made a difference! I could have saved the world, Joel!” Her voice cracked as her words were lodged in her throat from the oncoming wave of tears.

“I did save the world. I saved my world, Ellie. I lost a daughter once, and I wasn’t about to lose another. Not when you and I endured so much together. You may not be my flesh and blood, but you’re my daughter, and there is nothing that I wouldn’t do to keep you safe.” His own tears began to prick the corner of his eyes at his confession. His heart clenched and twisted like a fist. “I couldn’t lose you. You mean too much to me, Ellie.” He croaked.

“I don’t know if I'll ever be able to forgive you, Joel. But I would like to try.” There it was. That sliver of hope that you told Joel to hold onto, and Ellie the same. The extension of an olive branch. A father and daughter making up.

A stray tear rolled down his cheek and clinked softly against the rim of his mug. His lower lip wobbled as he sniffled softly.

“I’d like that.”

Ellie released the breath she didn’t realize she was holding as her body relaxed. She gradually found herself gravitating towards him as their shoulders brushed gently.

A moment’s silence passed before Joel spoke again. “Ellie, I need to tell ya somethin’ that only uncle Tommy and I know about, okay?”

“What is it that you need to tell me, Joel?” Her cheek slowly came to rest between the dip in his shoulder as his posture relaxed.

“Tommy and I have been gatherin’ up evidence and writing up reports to turn in to Maria. We’re under the suspicion that Lucas, one of the guys on patrol, has ulterior motives inside the community. I need you and Dina to stay sharp, okay? You see anythin’ suspicious, you alert Tommy and I immediately, okay, baby girl?”

“How long have you been suspecting him, Joel?”

“Since that night at the Tipsy Bison. When I confronted Seth for calling you and Dina a homophobic slur. The same night that Lucas ‘innocently’ grabbed Beanie’s arm outside the ladies room.“ He confirmed.

“Y’don’t think he has anythin’ to do with those charred bodies that you and Tommy found in the woods last winter, do you?” Ellie asked with uncertainty.

Joel sighed deeply as he tightened his grip around the mug. His deep brown pools met hers in a stern, serious look. “I think he has everythin’ to do with those poor women that we found in the woods.”

______________

*Ambiguous POV*

Raider camp. Approximately five miles south of Jackson

“And what if she’s not in her home, what do we do then?” The man asked.

“She’ll be there. I’m sure of it. And in the case she’s not? Don’t you fuckin’ bother showin’ up empty handed. Haven’t you been lookin’ for the opportunity to prove yourself to me? Well, here’s your chance. Don’t disappoint me.” The other man warned his counterpart with a deadly look as he twirled his favorite blade in his hand.

The peaceful utopian community of Jackson would never see this coming.

Banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤍

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel the last of us #joel x f!reader #joel x reader #joel x female reader #joel x you #joel tlou #protective joel #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fluff #joel miller series

185 notes · View notes

topaz-mutiny · 6 months

Text

I think the fans are underestimating how differently people can process things.

I am consistently seeing posts say "Ashton/Tal were repeatedly warned the shard was not for them/will 100% kill them", when this was absolutely not the case, and, more importantly, it is very likely for groups of people to completely misinterpret the warnings. Even if they've known each other and loved each other for a decade.

I certainly thought the warnings were not clear or frequent enough so I was shocked like lightning in the latest episode that they were meant to be absolute death flags.

Please note that I'll mostly refer to the fictional characters, I don't want to bring the people behind the characters too much into this.

First, I would like to point out, the show takes place over weeks and months with plenty of breaks and interruptions. That is plenty of time and opportunity for memories to get faded, muddled, crossed-over with other memories, etc.

The "warnings" happened two weeks to a month ago. And even when they were fresh on the cast's mind, here are the warnings verbatim (bold is my emphasis):

But be warned, holding the strength of the two in one vessel might sunder it. You bear the dormant strength of the empress. Find and bestow the might of the emperor.

- Evontra'vir, episode 74, aired October 5th. The conversations move on to unrelated things with no followup.

Ashton: He also said it might be dangerous for these two shards to intermingle. Or he didn't say dangerous, he said that-- it could destroy me. Orym: --A chance the vessel could break. Laudna: --The vessel <air quotes> could break. Fearne: Wasn't there something if you put them together with the right thing that it'll be okay? Ashton: It might come together and be okay, yeah. -- Dancer: Maybe if it were to meet one of its own ilk, it could awaken. Allura: What you said as a point of warning likely is true. To have both within a singular vessel, it's possible one could survive, but it's also highly possible that it would rend you into a thousand pieces. -- Allura: We're in a strange area of experimentation and unknown knowledge. -- (after finding out Ashton has a fascimile of a Luxon beacon in their brain) FCG: So he's got two things in him or them? Allura: It would seem, which is why I'm a bit--Well, you're either the greatest weapon we could hope for in this time, or will be our end. I couldn't tell you. Orym: Boy, maybe we don't add a third thing. Ashton: I was put together by bits and pieces. This was not an intentional thing and it, I honestly shouldn't have survived it. It was, literally, I was put together with junk. Allura: In an odd way, your fragmented nature might be what keeps all of this in check. ... Perhaps we don't put another powerful entity within your form.

- Various, episode 76, aired October 19th.

To me, these warnings were not clear in the slightest.

To me, these warnings were interspersed with so many words like "possible", "might", and "chance" that I completely misinterpreted the situation as "For Ashton it is dangerous but doable" instead of "The Game Master is telling you Ashton's character sheet will be ripped up."

This is the problem with using in-character voices and using descriptors that imply chance or flexibility. They can drastically weaken the meaning of a phrase such that people like me will mistake it for something else.

Because that's how my brain works. "May", "chance", "perhaps" suggest to me a reasonable set of odds for an action and does not come across as the grave warning a game master would want.

And as a reminder, these muddled warnings were weeks apart and weeks away, which can make remembering the meaning even worse if you've already misinterpreted them. That's why I was 100% on board with Ashton taking the shard. It seemed reasonable but dangerous, so when Matt said "I warned you." in that grave tone and with that grave look I was thrown for a loop. I went "oh no! those were serious warnings!?" and the panic started setting in.

Also a contributing factor was the pressure and lack of communication from Bells Hells.

Fearne did not want the shard, and finally stated that thought aloud to Ashton. For Fearne and Ashton, that meant the only choice left was Ashton, because, for one reason or another, the 5 other people in Bells Hells repeatedly assumed and pushed the shard onto Fearne and wrote themselves out of the equasion. FIVE characters absolved themselves of being active participants. Once the idea of Fearne came to mind and this Emperor Fearne/Empress Ashton/Callowmoore shipping dicotomy, Bells Hells just stopped talking about it and never once considered if any of them should take the shard should Fearne refuse.

So... yeah that's how my brain works.

#critical role #cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #c3e77 #ashton greymoore #fearne calloway #bells hells #evontra'vir #taliesin jaffe #matthew mercer #communication breakdown #tl;dr Bells Hells needs to talk to each other more instead of just assuming how things will be #do you want explosions and dead PCs? that's how you get explosions and dead PCs.#people will think differently and can misinterpret what you say #even this loving group of 8 people can misinterpret each other despite being together for like a decade #tbh I thought the shard going to Orym would've been ideal #I might repost this for the Monday crew idk

180 notes · View notes

cemeteryspider · 25 days

Text

It's Called: Freefall

Hazbin Lucifer x Archangel! Reader

Summary: You freefall...

Trigger Warning: Isolation, rejection, and suicidal themes (listen to the song this is based off of)

Word Count: 1120

When you called your old friend Lucifer, you didn't expect to meet him in a quiet human coffee house with a few humans going in and out. Your heart pounded in your chest as you as across from him. Innocently he pushed a latte towards you with a weak smile.

You reciprocate the gesture with an eager smile, the warmth of the coffee cup seeping through your fingers. As the bitter liquid danced on your taste buds, he seized the moment to pose the first question.

"Why did you ask me here?" After many years, hearing his voice was music to your ears.

"Not sure, maybe I want you to pull me down to Hell with you"

His eyes narrowed, a subtle frown forming on his lips as your words hung in the air. Desperate to diffuse the tension, you forced a laugh, but the weight of his gaze lingered.

"Maybe you would make it easy and offer me cigarettes, dominos, or rum" You teased.

"Not only sundowns, Sundays, Christmas for me" Though a joke no laughter came from him.

"I just needed an old friend. I could never hope to keep the new seraphim as friends. I tried to give them what I thought that they wanted, never could they be such a good friend as you've been"

"Come on, Y/n, don't get me venting on friends that resent you. All I've ever been is a noose to hang onto, reckless I fell into Hell where I hang with nothing and no one"

Your hand found him from across the table, "I could follow you..."

"Even the devil needs time alone sometimes" In a blink he was gone with a puff of smoke.

~~~

When you returned to Heaven you allowed yourself to sink the floor of your bedroom. Allowing tears to flow from your eyes down your cheeks.

Your "friends" never listened to your ideas, and shot them down at every chance they had. Adam had shunned you from the court after his private meeting with Sera about your sympathies with the devil.

Angel's avoided you and human souls steered clear of your wake.

The weight of rejection and isolation pressed on your shoulders, tempting you to abandon the celestial realm that had turned its back on you. The thought of leaving it all behind gained momentum within your conflicted heart.

You could let it all go.

It's called freefall.

You started writing to Lucifer about your plans.

It's called freefall

~~~

Days turned into a slow, agonizing wait before a black envelope, delivered with an impatient huff from Sera, found its way into your hands.

Still, the red seal made you giddy with excitement. However, after opening the letter you soon understood that you shouldn't have opened it.

Dearest, Y/n

Stop. Do not talk like that. You shouldn't fall. I can't even be bothered with this, you better handle your shit. Keep about your wits, you know yourself and who I am. The devil isn't a friend to anyone, Y/n.

~Lucifer

Hours turned into agonizing days as you sat amidst the remnants of your torn bedroom, the echo of your screams still reverberating in your ears. Each piece of the room held a memory, a fragment of the friendship that now seemed shattered beyond repair. You scoured your conversations with Lucifer, trying to find the roots of this passive-aggressive letter.

Lucifer was your best friend, and has been for centuries, and never in your life had you imagined him practically disowning you after letting him into your innermost thoughts.

You threw the letter into the burning fireplace in your room stomped your way to Sera, and demanded to be sent to Hell.

Without so much as a trial, which even Lucifer and the other Deadly Sins were allowed, she cursed you and sent you down.

It's called freefall.

~~~

As you plummeted, the familiar celestial lights ethereally faded from your view, replaced by a menacing red glow. The once weightless fall morphed into a descent fraught with a hellish heat that seemed to seep into your very bones. The stench of sulfur filled your nose, assaulting your senses with the undeniable reality of your new existence.

You allowed your eyes to close as you imagined your new life. You imagined Lucifer and all the grand ideas you would think up together. The change that you could make in Hell, and maybe eventually Heaven would see. You could see real friendship in your future.

~~~

Despite your continuous knocking at the Devil's door he never bothered to answer. You allowed yourself to curl up near the door, and rest your weary bones.

After a long time you heard the click of boots, and the tumble of a kicked stone growing closer.

A warm hand touched your shoulder, "Hey, what are you doing out this late, it's like 2 am, and nothing's open in Hell, it's a rule I made, anyway" You felt his weight shift as he sat on the stair next to you.

You peered your head above your arms to him. "So, you're still too busy saving everybody else, to save yourself. That's a story to tell"

A surprised look crossed his face when he saw yours. His eyes scanned your body for any injuries, then wrapped his arms around you.

"I told you not to do this, you could've gotten past those feelings. You didn't have to fall", Tears fell his face. He knew the shame and the isolation that came with falling. He knew the sad faces and disappointed looks better than anyone. It was something he never wanted you to experience, and never wanted you to know.

"Hey, let it all out, this is where I'm meant to be, Luci" You pulled his form into yours, and you could feel his shoulders relax in your grip.

His face found solace in the curve of your neck, tears staining your skin as he sought refuge in your embrace. The weight of his remorse hung heavy in the air, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of compassion and confusion. The tears spoke of a shared pain, a vulnerability you hadn't expected from the mighty Lucifer. As his silent sobs echoed in the infernal air, you grappled with the complexity of emotions that his apology unearthed.

"I'm sorry for what I wrote, I thought if I pushed you away, it wouldn't end up like this", Maybe if he just pushed you away, made you feel as though you could live with the pretentious angels that surrounded you. You wouldn't want to fall.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be here" You promised him.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar headcanons #hazbin hotel #hazbinhotel #hazbin lucifer

99 notes · View notes

fallatyourfeet · 11 months

Text

Chasing Smiles (Thomas Shelby x Reader)

One Shot

Summary: It's been a really long time since you've seen Tommy's smile, so your hoping a day out together might help you find it.

Written For @runnning-outof-time 's 3K follower celebration Tales From the Flower Garden. Sorry it's taken soooo long K.

Word count: 1760

Warnings: Mostly fluff

A/N: It's been forever since I've written anything and this took a lot of broken sessions to complete (life's been increasingly hectic) so I hope this doesn't feel too disjointed.

Please feel free to send me a message/comment/ask, I would love to know what you think.

If you like this, please feel free to visit my blog and take a look around! You can find my masterlist in my bio.

It was hard. Hard for you to see Tommy this way. Fragments were all you got these days. Fragments of the man you reluctantly farewelled to fulfill his duties on the battlefields of France. Like so many others he returned forever changed, weighed down by the heavy shadows that lingered in his head. Shadows that twisted his dreams into nightmares any time he finally found sleep. But at least he returned, for many did not. And for that you were thankful. Because a world without Tommy by your side was a world you couldn’t comprehend. But you missed his smile, his real smile. And that’s what you were in search of today. A few stolen moments together. Hoping it might help him forget his relentless ambitions for just long enough to let that smile emerge.

The cabin of the car was quiet, the only noise interrupting the silence coming from the engine under the hood. Tommy’s mind had been particularly absent these past few days and you had given up trying to sustain any form of conversation between the two of you. But it wasn’t uncomfortable, and you knew he appreciated the fact you weren’t trying to fill the silence with meaningless chatter.

Taking your attention from the road, you glanced towards him, his gaze moving over the passing paddocks outside his passenger window. It was a glorious spring morning. The sun was soft and golden, spilling gently across the countryside. Bringing to life the remaining drops of dew left behind by the cool night air. Pasture after pasture adorned with countless liquid filled jewels. It was a beautiful sight, such a stark difference to the dull grey streets of Small Heath and you hoped Tommy was taking it all in.

With a gentle sigh, he turned to face you, his eyes brushing over your hands upon the steering wheel before settling on your face. He smiled softly, though it barely touched his lips, “So are you going to tell me where you’re taking me?”

After a few short moments you replied with a shake of your head, “You’ll find out soon enough, we’re nearly there.” Deciding you were being a little too cryptic, you elaborated, but only a little, “It’s somewhere my nan used to bring me as a child, I snuck up here yesterday just to make sure it was going to be worth it.”

It was a poor effort at being less cryptic. Tommy’s brows furrowed at your reply, but his intrigue peaked. You had told him many stories about your grandmother and all the fond memories you had of her, but he couldn’t recall a single story that would bring him here, an hour’s drive out of Birmingham. You could almost see his mind flicking through the catalogue of every conversation the two of you ever had, his expression was perplexed and utterly adorable, and you responded with an amused smile. Lifting a hand from the steering wheel, you pointed up ahead to a small country laneway, bordered on each side by a row of beautiful oaks, “It’s less than a minute’s drive down that laneway.”

Answering with a little nod, Tommy shifted in his seat, for the most part content that his growing impatience only needed to endure for a few more minutes. Turning down the old gravel road, the sun was all but hidden behind a thick canopy of oak leaves, the new spring growth was so full and lush allowing only scattered ribbons of light to stream through, stealing Tommy’s attention just long enough for you to notice. Giving you hope that just maybe this day wouldn’t be completely lost on him.

Reaching the end of the laneway, you let the tires roll to a stop and set the parking brake. Exiting the car, you waited for Tommy to come around and meet you, before slipping your hand in his. With a gentle tug he pulled you to his side and slipped his arm around your back, “Now why have you brought me here? It’s a track that leads nowhere.” Looking towards the gate blocking the road, he gestured to the sign attached, “It’s Private Property.”

You began walking backwards, pulling Tommy with you as you went, your expression playful and teasing, “I’ve known you for a long time now Tommy. Since when have you ever followed the rules?”

Dropping his hand, you hitched up your dress and began climbing the gate, leaving Tommy standing there, eyes wide and forehead creased, his voice baring a hint of amusement, “And since when did you break them?”

Jumping to the ground, you spun around and shrugged your shoulders, your features innocent but your words suggesting otherwise. “Maybe I’m not the good girl you think I am Tommy.”

Tommy smirked, and before you knew it, he was hitching a leg over the gate and landing on the ground beside you, his arms enclosing you against the fence. Moving his lips just an inch from yours, he replied, “Oh, don’t worry. You’ve never fooled me.”

Hovering there a moment, his lips threatened an enticing kiss, but before he could close the distance, you smiled wickedly and ducked under his arm to run away, thankful you had decided to wear your flats. And you knew exactly where you were running to. Moving only fast enough to keep ahead of Tommy’s quickening strides, you came to a stop just a few steps before the gentle decent down the familiar hillside of your childhood.

Once again, you found yourself spinning around, this time giggling like a carefree child. And Tommy was soaking up the sight of your joy. He was almost close enough to reach out and touch you now, and that was when he finally took his eyes from you and caught sight of the very thing you brought him here to see.

Stopping just shy of your reach, he staggered, a visible intake of air passing through his chest. Tommy’s gaze moved with wonder around the gentle hillside behind you, and across the entirety of the valley below. Never had he seen anything like it. Wildflowers. More wildflowers than he could comprehend. Thousands upon thousands… hundreds of thousands maybe, in all the colours of the rainbow. All of them dancing under the light spring breeze, like the gentle swell of an ocean. He was almost at a loss for words.

Stepping forward, Tommy enveloped you in his arms, never once taking his eyes from the landscape. Placing a chin to your head, he squeezed you, “So, the saying is true then.”

Resting your ear to his chest, you listened to the rhythmic beat of his heart for a silent moment before asking him to elaborate.

Cradling the nape of your neck, his fingertips gently lost themselves in your hair, “April showers bring May flowers.”

A string of warm memories flooded your thoughts, closing your eyes a moment you savoured them before looking up to him, the warmth of those memories evident in every one of your features, “My nan used to say that all the time.”

“I know. I remember.” Kissing the top of your head, he adjusted you in his arms so he could see you better, “But tell me… why are you only bringing me here now?” Taking another glance around, he continued. “This place is stunning.”

You nodded in agreeance, “It really is.” A flicker of impatience touched Tommy’s face when you failed to answer his question and you took a little too much joy from it. The sight of it triggering your playful side. You really were feeling a tiny bit wicked today. When his impatience was just about to get the better of him, you moved his hands to rest loosely against your waist, leaving yours placed gently upon his chest, your face as serious as you could possibly make it. “It’s a very special place to me… so I usually only share it with the people I love the most… but I decided to make an exception today and bring you.” Taking a step back from him, you waved your hands flippantly in the air, “I mean, I’ve brought my other boyfriend here loads of times.”

Tommy rested his hands on his hips, his face flooding with an expression you knew very well, an expression that had been missing for far too long, the sight of it lighting up your heart. Clearing his throat you could hear the amusement in his voice, “Oh really… So where is he today, couldn’t he make it?”

Shaking your head, you frowned, wiping away a single fake tear, “It’s quite sad, really. He told me he doesn’t love me anymore, that he’s found someone else. All this time he’s been seeing another woman behind my back. Can you believe it?”

Tommy rolled his eyes, and shook his head, “The gall of him.”

Taking a couple of steps back, you threw your hands on your hips, “I know right?” Sighing deeply, you gently kicked your foot across the grass taking another step back towards the flowers, “Hmmmm, I’m really going to miss him… His skills between the sheets were.” (You made a chef’s kiss gesture)

Tommy burst out laughing, he couldn’t help it, but he was done with your teasing. Lunging forward, he reached out to grab you, yet somehow you managed to slip from his grip, leaving him standing alone at the top of the hill, your beautiful spring dress billowing as you ran through the mass of wildflowers. And it wasn’t long before he took chase. Not that you were going to make it hard for him to catch you.

Slowing down, you spun around to face him, his arms reaching around your waist, pulling you tight. Then down he went, taking you with him, conveniently and expertly spinning you around to land beneath him, the weight of his body pinning you pleasingly against the ground, still laughing. It filled the space around you. Warmed your very core. But that smile. That glorious smile. Here it was, staring right at you, just inches from your face. Not a memory. Not imagined. But real. And it was just for you.

Using the gentle fall of the hill to your advantage, you flipped him over. Setting your legs snuggly around his hips and seized his jacket lapels, holding him a willing hostage beneath you. Then leaning down, you hovered invitingly above him, speaking through the gentle laughter still present upon your lips. “Mister Thomas Shelby… Am I imagining it, or did I just make you smile?”

#thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagines #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders fanfiction

366 notes · View notes

e-dubbc11 · 7 months

Text

Under the Pale Moonlight

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Supporting characters: Frank Castle, James Wesley, and Wilson Fisk

Warnings: Swearing, violence, guns, knives, and fluff.

Word Count: 4.2k-ish

Summary: Billy is unhinged, you’ve been taken and being held for ransom. He will not rest until you are found and he can bring you home safe, and you feel sorry for anyone who gets in his way

A/N: Based off of a little conversation between @qu1etwolf and myself. She said she would like to see me try and write something with Billy and his violent like tendencies but I still wanted fluffy elements to it. It’s a bit dramatic but I’m pretty pleased with what I did here and I hope you enjoy it!

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

That night was cloudless and quiet at first.

The sky was so clear, you could see just about every crater of the moon and the stars that were sprinkled behind it sparkled like diamonds under fluorescent lights. From far away, you could hear the occasional dog barking that cut through the silence and you could see the dark shadows of the autumn foliage swaying in the gentle winds.

The musky sweet fragrance of fallen leaves danced across your nose while the cool breeze enveloped you as you walked down the street…alone.

He told you he hated when you walked alone…anywhere…any time of day. Billy didn’t like it if you went anywhere by yourself.

“You worry too much, baby. I’ll be fine.” You had said with a warm smile.

Famous last words.

When you came to, your head hurt and your body was resting on a metal floor, the empty space was completely dark, without windows, and every noise you made echoed throughout the room. It sounded like you were inside of a shipping container.

You weren’t bound or restrained in any way but you were scared and convinced that this had something to do with a deal that your father didn’t want to make involving the company he worked for.

Pratt and Whitney built aircraft engines and while your father didn’t own the company, he was responsible for bringing deals to the table. They build engines for civil aviation and military aviation and when your father declined a business offer, it was for a good reason.

Not too long ago, he had told you about a man coming to see him that wanted to do business and would not take no for an answer and you were convinced that it was someone involved with this man that was holding you captive.

But you didn’t know how far they were willing to go, to get what they wanted.

**********

He let out a yell that could probably be heard by people outside the building on the streets below.

His office was completely destroyed.

Fragments of shattered glass decorated the floor, his laptop landed upside down in the corner of the room, the cracked mirror and the broken picture frames were also casualties of the war zone inside Billy’s office. With his gun in one hand and your picture in the other, he stared down at your smiling face trying to figure out what his next move was going to be.

He needed to find you and was ready to burn the world down if it meant he could find you faster. Billy finally found love, someone who loved him but didn’t put up with his shit, someone that put him in his place when it was necessary, and someone that told him it was ok to let go. You said you would never leave, never abandon him, and he trusted you.

But you were gone, taken someplace that he had no idea where. He wasn’t going to rest until you were found, until HE found you. Billy needed you to be safe in his arms where you belonged and he wasn’t going to let anyone take you away from him.

Still holding the frame with your picture in it, he smashed the glass and removed it to put in his jacket pocket. Billy holstered his weapon and headed for the office door where he was cut off on the other side by Frank.

“Outta my way, Frankie. Now.” He said, rage dripping from his lips.

Frank held up a hand to try and stop him from leaving.

“She’s high profile, Bill. The FBI said they were handling it.” Frank said.

“Oh come on, Frankie! Those corrupt assholes couldn’t find their way out of a wet paper bag let alone find her! I should have been more insistent that she not walk alone and I’m gonna kill every single one of them, Frank. Every…single…one.” Said Billy.

The icy tone to his voice and his mouth twisted with threat let Frank know that Billy was serious. He didn’t care who he had to kill, he was going to find you and leave a trail of bodies behind him while he did it.

“I can’t stop you, can I Bill.” Frank said.

Billy’s eyes darkened and his lips curled back to reveal clenched teeth.

“You know me, Frankie. You think anyone’s gonna be able to stop me? Especially when it comes to her?” Growled Billy.

Frank looked into Billy’s eyes, they shined with unshed tears as he grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Well let’s go get her then, yeah?” Frank said with one side of his mouth curled up into a half smile. “You have a place to start?”

“Her father had a business card from the guy that came to his office wanting to make a deal, willing to pay cash, classic red flag. The card had an address on it. He said it sounded like the same guy demanding the engines in exchange for y/n.” Billy said.

Frank scoffed. “Pfft, not too bright is he. Well I think Lieberman can get her last known location before her phone went dead, so I’ll go to David’s and you go to that address, yeah?”

“Yeah, lemme know what you find out.” Billy said.

**********

They finally had enough of listening to you bang on the walls and call out for help. It took awhile but the doors opened, the early morning sun peeked through the crack in the door, they came inside and tied your arms and legs. They put a piece of tape over your mouth as well so they wouldn’t have to listen to you anymore.

The harder your struggled to free yourself, the tighter the ropes had become and you didn’t want to expel all of your energy. What did they want?

And why did they want aircraft engines? While he had more than enough money for the engines, he was a civilian and civilians don’t require large engines like that and your father could see right through that so he told them no.

They had also taken your watch.

It was completely dark inside the shipping container so you wouldn’t be able to see the time no matter how hard you tried but they took it from you anyway. It was the watch Billy had given you for Christmas last year, the one that he had engraved “Until the end of time. Love, Billy.”

You managed a slight smile with the tape over your mouth thinking about what he said when he gave it to you. When you looked at the engraving, he said, “It was between this and ‘nice butt’,” which caused you to burst out laughing.

You loved him so much.

There weren’t many things in this world that frightened you but you were very scared that you would never get to see Billy’s face again. It terrified you to think you would never get to look into his endless brown eyes again, lovingly scrape your nails against his scalp, or tell him that you loved him and to hear him say it back.

You needed to be in his arms again, to have his body be a warm cradle for yours, and for his soft lips to kiss you goodnight before you fall asleep.

You wanted it all back, you wanted him…forever. And he needed to know that.

**********

When he wanted to be, Billy could be very quiet. He was so light on his feet, sometimes you had no idea he was even in the same room until you turned around to see his handsome face smiling at you, then laughing because he scared you.

That skill came in handy when it was needed. When he arrived at the address on the business card, he didn’t know what to expect so he drew his weapon and went inside the building.

Slinking down hallways and creeping around corners, he checked the building from top to bottom and found everything he expected to find…which was nothing.

The building was empty.

At some point it had been occupied but looking around him, there hasn’t been any activity inside of the building in a long time. It was just an address. But who owned the building?

He needed to get back, tell Frank what he found, and to see if David had any luck finding the last location of your phone.

**********

You heard men arguing outside but you could only make out bits and pieces of the conversation.

“He said he wanted her moved.” One of them said.

Then you heard a different voice. “Well where are we going to move her?”

You heard the first voice again. “He doesn’t care where, just move her. She probably has to go to the bathroom anyway.”

That voice sounded familiar…”He doesn’t care where…”

It was killing you not knowing who “HE” was. Who could it be? And that voice, where have you heard that voice before?

Also, how considerate of them, you thought sarcastically to yourself…you hadn’t had anything to drink in hours so you didn’t really have to go. You didn’t even know how long you had been locked inside.

More talking…

“I cannot believe you didn’t get rid of her phone until you brought her here. Her boyfriend owns the best private security company in the city. You better hope they don’t track her phone or I’ll kill you myself.”

Before they tied you up, you had removed your jacket and tossed it into the corner. If they planned on moving you, hopefully they would be dumb enough to leave your jacket where it is so Billy could find it.

You felt it in your heart that he was out looking for you and when he does find you, he was never going to let you walk alone again.

**********

“The name, Bill. What was the name on the business card?” Frank asked.

Billy pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, concentrating really hard trying to remember the name your father told him was on the card.

“Wesley…James Wesley.” Said Billy. “Y/n’s father also said that they don’t want money, they want those engines. And why does that name sound so familiar, Frankie?”

Frank pressed his lips together in a straight line then hung his head before glancing at Billy again.

“Because he works for HIM, Bill. He works for Wilson Fisk…Kingpin.” Frank said softly.

Billy ran his long fingers through his ebony colored hair, hell burned behind his dark doll like eyes, and he had the acid burn of bitterness in his throat as he said, “Well then he’ll be the final body on top of the pile. She has nothing to do with this and he took her from me, Frankie and he’s gonna pay for it. They’re all gonna pay, so please tell me David found where her phone was last.”

He stared at Frank while putting his gear on and removed the picture of you from his suit jacket pocket to stash it behind his vest. Billy was ready to take out anyone who got in his way including the authorities.

“He did…down by the water where the cargo ships come in. Might be holding her in one of those shipping containers…told ya they’re not too bright. And you know I’m comin’ with you, yeah?” Said Frank.

Billy shook his head furiously.

“No, no, no, I can’t ask you to do that. You have a family, Frankie. I can’t let you risk yourself for me.” Billy said.

“And you’re part of that family, Bill so you’re not goin’ by yourself. Gimme some of that untraceable Russian ammo that I know you have and let’s go bring her home.” Frank said with a slight smirk.

“I love her, Frankie.” Billy said with a slight hitch in his voice.

“Well, let’s go so you can tell her instead of me.”

**********

They arrived at the pier under the cover of the clouded night sky. The ethereal glow of the moon peeked out briefly from behind the clouds before completely disappearing on the other side of the fluffy clouds.

The steady wind picked up a little faster down by the water as they stealthily moved through the cargo yard when they came upon a chair that had been turned over and the rocks underneath their feet had been disturbed. It looked like someone had been dragged from one of the containers, close to where the chairs were turned over.

“The door’s open, Bill…go check inside.” Frank whispered.

With his flashlight on, Billy stepped inside. You weren’t there but in the back corner, he saw some kind of black fabric rolled into a ball. It looked like it was hastily thrown there. When he picked it up, it unfolded and he recognized it immediately. Smiling slightly to himself, Billy knew you had left it for him to find.

“I’m coming, sweet girl.” He whispered to himself.

Frank stuck his head inside. “Russo, you find anything?” He asked.

Billy held out your jacket so Frank could see it. “She left it for me, Frankie.”

“The drag marks go that way.” Frank pointed in the direction they were already headed toward. “They probably didn’t move her too far…maybe in one of those buildings across the way.”

They suddenly heard some rocks shuffle along the ground, Billy and Frank turned and fired in the direction of the noises hitting two men right between the eyes. Billy didn’t even blink, he just continued walking, not bothered at all, and was careful not to leave any evidence behind.

Carnage was the only thing Billy left behind and Fisk was smart enough to scatter his men throughout the shipyard so Billy and Frank would have to check every building.

He prowled like a jungle cat, slitting their throats with his hidden blade, one right after the other, not looking back and moving on even before the body hit the ground.

Billy’s expression was blank, completely zoned out and he would not come back to reality until you were safe. Even Frank had a hard time getting through to him.

As he got closer to another building, Billy heard voices. He heard a woman’s voice, your voice. He listened intently as you spoke.

“What do you want the engines for, Mr. Wesley? You know my father is only responsible for bringing deals to the table and he’s not in charge of making deals himself, right?” You said with a sinister smile stretched across your lips.

“My employer knows that yes, Ms. Y/l/n. But we’ve tied his hands and yours.” He said with an evil smirk. “The man I work for wants to build his own planes for his spice import/export business.”

“Well if that doesn’t sound shady as fuck, I don’t know what does. You are even dumber than you look, Mr. Wesley.” You said. “Pratt and Whitney isn’t going to sell engines like that to a civilian. My father doesn’t care how much money you throw at them.”

The door opened and you heard a deep shaky voice coming from around the corner. “I think your father will do whatever it takes to get you back.”

Wilson Fisk came into view. He walked around the table and stood next to Wesley who was sitting across from you at a long table.

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Fisk but I know my father isn’t going to give you what you want and I know that you’re not going to kill me because if I’m dead, you have no other bargaining chips.” You said.

Fisk gave you an evil smile. “You know who I am.”

“Of course I know who you are.”

**********

Outside were a couple of large SUV’s and they had some of Fisk’s men inside which Billy and Frank took care of, almost a little too easily. But Fisk didn’t know what kind of marines he was dealing with. They were trained to be silent, anticipate moves by the enemy, and to kill with zero hesitation.

Billy was covered in blood, his black clothing had a bright red sheen to it when the dim lights from overhead shined down on to it, and the front of his vest was slick with all of their blood. He acted like it wasn’t even there, like it was just a part of his gear, and if Billy had the time, he would have tortured and tormented all of them.

He would have done it slowly and with precision, to make them feel as much pain as possible for what they had done. They were just doing what they were ordered to do but that didn’t matter to Billy.

You always have a choice in life and they chose to do this, they chose to work for HIM. They took you away from him and now they had paid the price…all of them.

Frank and Billy left no survivors, they didn’t let any of them go, not even one to warn Fisk they were coming for him. They were left to bleed out on to the gravel beneath them, the tiny pebbles were painted red with their blood as it pooled under their throats where they fell.

Billy would make sure the last two would never leave the shipyard alive.

**********

“That’s it. Keep them talkin’, sweet girl.” Billy said in barely more than a whisper.

Close to Billy’s ear, Frank said, “She has a smart mouth, Bill. I can see why you love her so much.”

Fisk started to speak again.

“You think your boyfriend is out looking for you? Hmmm?” He said.

You touched your tongue to your teeth and gave him a sinister grin. “I know what you want me to say, Mr. Fisk. But you’re not gonna get it. What I am gonna tell you is that my guess is you kidnapping me is high profile to the FBI and as soon as they find their way out of that wet paper bag they seem to be stuck in, they’ll be searching for me. Sending Mr. Wesley in to talk to my father was just dumb on your part. You didn’t even try to make it sound legit.” You said with a laugh.

Frank chuckled. “You two really are made for each other.”

You could tell Wilson Fisk was starting to get angry.

“I have people all over this shipyard! I doubt they can’t handle ONE marine!” He yelled across the table.

“I’m sure Billy is waiting patiently for that phone call to come in to tell him that I have been found unharmed.” You said in a sarcastic and teasing tone. “He would never EVER get in the way of authority figures.”

Fisk made a motion like he was going to walk over and strike you when a figure dressed in all black shattered the flimsy glass by diving through the window.

Before Wesley could pull out his gun, the figure moved in front of you and pushed you away from the table when two shots came from the window. One bullet went into Wesley’s head, the other into Fisk’s chest and he collapsed onto the ground.

Clutching his chest, Fisk looked up at the figure who just shot him and they pulled the hood up away from their face.

It was Billy.

“I wanted you to see my face as I watch the life drain from yours.” Billy growled.

Coughing up blood, Fisk managed to ask, “H-how?”

Billy flashed that perfect smile of his but he had an evil twist behind it. He ejected the blade from his wrist and inched closer to Fisk’s face before opening his throat and twisting the blade so the wound wouldn’t close.

“How?” Billy asked. “You took what is most precious to me in this world, you took what was MINE. And you fucked with the wrong marines.” He hissed.

Billy removed the blade from Fisk’s neck and watched as his blood pooled on the floor underneath him and the light faded from his eyes.

Frank lifted his mask.

“You ok, sweetheart?” He asked, trying to catch his breath.

“You came for me too, Frank?” You asked.

“Of course I did. I wasn’t gonna let Bill do this by himself.” He said, cutting your hands loose. “I tell ya what, kid. I’m surprised he didn’t try and hit you before I jumped through the window, you have a mouth on you.” He said with a smirk.

Billy rushed to your side and fell to his knees. “You alright, sweet girl?!” He pulled you into a tight embrace, so tight that it made it hard to breathe and kissed the top of your head.

“I’m ok, Billy. Really, I am. Only slightly traumatized, I think.” You said with a warm smile.

Billy’s lips collided with yours, his long slender fingers tangled in your hair as he planted kisses all over your forehead and your cheeks before wrapping his fingers around your throat like a necklace and softly kissing your lips again.

“I love you…so much.” He said, his onyx colored eyes gazed at you like he hasn’t seen you in a week.

Tears pricked the back of your eyes and one streaked down your cheek before he brushed it away with his thumb. “I love you too, Billy.”

“I hate to break this up, but we gotta get outta here.” Said Frank.

On the way back, Frank and Billy told you exactly what to say when you walk into the police station. Billy held you close in the back seat while Frank drove, his heart was racing, and you felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest against the side of your face.

He came for you and killed everyone that got in his way, including the Kingpin of New York City. The rage in his eyes died down and the tension in his body relaxed as soon as he held you in his arms again. You were back with him, where you belonged, and if he had to, he would do it all again without hesitation.

Billy valued your life more than he valued his own, he loved you more than anything, and he would take on the entire city if it meant you would stay safe.

He flashed that perfect smile at you after he kissed you goodbye. You weren’t even gone for very long but you missed that smile and wondered if you were ever going to see it again.

“I’ll be back to get you and you’re never walking by yourself ever again.” He said with a wink.

No one has ever shown you the kind of love Billy has and he’s never known love by anyone which is why you always made it a point to tell him every day how much you loved him, how you felt safe with him, and how you would never abandon him like so many others had done before.

His chin rested on top of your head in the back of the car, as his fingers danced up and down your arm, soothing you and telling you he’d never let anyone hurt you again.

You didn’t want to but you had to tell him.

“Billy?”

“Yeah baby?” He answered.

“They took my watch…the one you gave me for Christmas.” You had said.

Billy kissed the top of your head. “I’ll get you a new one, my love.”

You leaned back to look up at him through your long dark lashes and pulled him in close to your face and gently kissed him.

“Until the end of time, Billy?” You whispered.

He just smiled his million dollar smile at you and replied, “Until the end of time, sweet girl.”

Before going inside the station, you paused on the sidewalk and looked up at the sky, painted black and navy with the moon cast behind the clouds. Tears welled up in your eyes because just a few hours ago, you weren’t certain you would ever see the sky again and you were incredibly thankful to be alive.

You weren’t sure the sun would ever kiss the high points of your face again or see the person you loved most that would rather watch the world burn than live without you in it.

Under the pale moonlight, you closed your eyes, and inhaled sharply. The lingering smell of salt from the shipyard still fresh as you took a deep breath in through your nose and then exhaling, watching your warm breath meet the crisp autumn air outside.

You took in the familiar city scents that you never wanted to take for granted again, fresh coffee, warm toasted almonds, and pizza slices hot from the oven. The sounds of broken bottles hitting the sidewalk, car alarms, and ambulance sirens were all music to your ears.

You were alive because he fought for you…and won.

Stepping inside the police station, you saw uniforms everywhere, they were carrying papers, rushing past you, and not giving you a second look before one stopped, looked at your disheveled appearance, and asked, “Are you alright miss?”

You stood up straight, nodded, and replied.

“Yes…I’d like to report a kidnapping. And a bunch of dead bodies.”

Tag List: @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @xdervyxccgh @mattmurdocksscars @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialams @idek-what-to-put @anastasianeedstoread @ratsys @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @russosafehaven @mrsbillyrusso @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #billy russo x female reader #frank castle

129 notes · View notes

piaart · 1 year

Text

At the Mercy of Time(And Fragmented Memories of You)

Dracopia x gn reader

Summary: A short story about a vampire with pseudo immortality, his mortal lover, and how they handle falling in love amidst death and reincarnation.

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: What started out as a short sweet drabble about love that transcends lifetimes in a friend’s dms turned into angsty 4k word fic(with a happy ending) because my brain won’t give me a break.

This is about reincarnation so I do mention death a lot. Nothing graphic or tragic, it’s just a natural part of the cycle. Copia is referred to as the Count for the most part.

No dialogues, we operate on vibes alone.

Also on Ao3

——————

You met him at a galliard.

A night of socialization hosted by the count himself. You think yourself lucky to have been invited to one of the count’s events - the man holds a highly respected position among the high class and to be invited to one of his dances was an honor. You watch the people around you mingle and dance about the grand room, and among the sea of faces, you find him.

The Count was a charming fellow, quiet when he needed to be, but most times a goof and easy to be around with. Or so you've heard. He walked across the room in long, suave strides, clad in all black, a cape on his back. His chestnut hair was swept back neatly, his face framed by a mustache and neatly kept sideburns. His eyes, one piercing green and the other pale white, glimmers under the light. You were mesmerized, so fixated on his features that you failed to notice that he was walking towards your direction.

He introduces himself to you, and you give him your name, to which he regarded with such eloquence, kissing the back of your hand with grace. Little did you know, this moment would change your lives forever.

It started out with a conversation, followed by a series of back and forth letters, to evening visits to your estate. He starts courting you, and you fall in love before he even offers you the world. Nothing could ever change your feelings for this man, not even when he admitted to being a vampire to you.

It was a surprising discovery, but then again, that would explain his nocturnal lifestyle, why you only ever see him when the sun had gone down, why he never shows up uninvited, this explains the unlabeled bottles of wine he keeps around his manor.

He prepared himself for hostility, a slap, a scream. He expected rejection - for you to run away and never return, but it never comes. You remain by his side, and for that, he will be forever grateful. You married the count during winter.

He offers to turn you into a vampire one night, with the intention of living the rest of eternity with you, but for some odd reason, you refuse. His heart sinks at your answer, but he respected your wishes for now. He hopes you'd change your mind in the future.

Every few years, he would ask you again, and you would always decline. He tries not to let it get to him, but one night, he got irritated and you would find yourself in a screaming match with the Count. That evening, he stormed off into the night before he lost his control. He'd never forgive himself if he hurts you by accident. You cried yourself to sleep, waiting for his return.

He came home just before the sun rose and found you asleep on your shared bed. His first instinct was to join you, snaking his arms around your waist, pressing his nose against your hair. He whispered apologies to your ear, and peppered you with kisses until you stirred awake. His heart shatters when he sees how red your eyes are from crying and he breaks down, ending up a sobbing mess in your arms, begging you for forgiveness, pleading for you not to leave him.

And you don't. You forgave him, like you always do.

He thanks you again and again, but he doesn’t stop crying. The thought that one day he would watch you die and he cannot do anything about it lingers at the back of his mind. You know this too, but you don’t change your mind about turning.

You continue living your life. You grew old, wrinkly, your hair faded gray, and your bones ached all while the count’s youth remained pristine. You worry sometimes that he has stopped finding you attractive, that he would very much prefer the company of a younger mate, but he stops you every time you bring it up and assures you that you are still the most beautiful person he’s ever laid his eyes on. He does not fail to make you feel so. Even after all these years, he would still constantly shower you with gifts and affection. He never came short. He promises he will love you until your dying breath.

Oh, Satan, how you loved this man to bits.

The Count was playing you a melody he had written for you on the piano when your heart had faltered. The music stops as the count rushes to you, catching you just before you collapse in the middle of the drawing room.

The doctor came too late.

—

The funeral was quiet, consisting only of him and the very few servants he keeps around. Your death was no surprise to the residents of the manor. You were old, so close to the gates of the afterlife, but still, they mourned.

You were buried underneath the wisteria tree just across the parterre of the grounds. It was your favorite part of the garden. More often than not, the Count would find you sitting underneath the tree, nose buried on a book, sometimes painting pictures. He would watch you from the window, admiring from afar, careful not to let the light touch his skin. Some evenings, he would accompany you, and you'd both lie on the grass, hands intertwined, talking about the what ifs of life and what not. He learned then that perhaps if it were possible, you would have loved to start a family with him. He felt a little guilty, being unable to produce you with an heir but you assure him that you were already content with your life with him and you would not trade it for anything in the world. The count smiles solemnly before changing the subject. He asks you what you would be doing had you not met. You shrug and simply said you wished to be a painter.

He sniffs back tears as the memories unfold. He stands alone by the tree now, the servants had long gone inside to sleep. He tries to keep it together. For what? He didn't know. It doesn't matter either because he was already a sobbing mess. He places a shaky hand on top of your headstone for support as he calms himself down. If only you had let him turn you, then maybe he wouldn't be this distraught.

The count walks back inside as the first few rays of sunlight peeked from the horizon.

He tries not to worry for he has an eternity in front of him. He would soon forget the color of your eyes. For now, he prepares himself for a lifetime of trying to get used to waking up alone.

——

Decades later he finds himself in a different city, under a different name. The manor was long abandoned, haunted by the painful memories of a life he once shared with the love of his life. He needed to leave, besides, the townsfolk were getting suspicious about his lingering presence.

He was out for one of his evening hunts and he needed to feast. He stalks along the edge of the forest, waiting for anyone foolish enough to venture out on a blood moon. And in the distance, he finds someone, sitting by the clearing. The count grinned. Dinner is served.

As he approaches, he studies this victim's movements. He notices that they were surrounded by supplies... Was that an easel? He slows his strides as he watches them put up what seemed to be a canvas against it. He stops when they start mixing pigments, the count is curious now and decides that he would have dinner after the show.

They start painting the sky, the trees... They start painting the moon. The painter had their back facing the count, the easel was turned in a way that he could get a clear view of it. He thinks they were a lovely painter.

Unfortunately, he's hungry.

He can no longer wait and stalks towards them, fangs at the ready, but as the painter turns slightly as they grab a tube of oil, he catches a glimpse of their face and falters. He must've made a noise because the painter's head whipped sharply towards his direction.

Now, over the light of the painter's lone candle, he sees their face and it's so... Beautiful. So hauntingly familiar. The count no longer feels hungry, in fact, he felt sick. The primal urge to feed had left his body as he stared at the painter who had stood up from their seat and is now watching him carefully. The tables have turned. He felt like the prey in the situation, petrified under the eerily familiar gaze of his supposed meal.

The count does not flee, and neither did the painter. He just remains there in the open. He did not attack. Instead, his heart clenches, bile caught in his throat as the painter takes a step closer. He can see them clearly now.

This painter was roughly as old as the the years you were gone, and what's sick about is is that the painter had your face. His chest heaves as he stares, his heart almost stopping completely when he notices the color of their eyes; a shade he desperately tries to avoid. The painter takes another step closer, and the air shifts. It was nostalgic. It felt like... Home. He realizes something.

The painter didn't just have your face... They were you. Living another lifetime.

The count chuckles bitterly to himself. How funny was it that you had told him you wanted to become a painter and then decades later he finds you again doing just that.

You take another step closer and he mentally applauds you for your bravery for approaching a stranger at dead of night. Maybe it was stupidity. Or maybe you could sense it too…

The wind billows against the count’s cape as he stood still, eyes wide while your soft eyes studies his face, brows knotted in curiosity. For a moment, he thought he saw there was a hint of recognition. You stop just a few feet away and the fluttering feeling in his stomach increases and his mind starts to go hazy. He was excited to meet you again, but he stands frozen, unsure of what to say or do. He is scared and he doesn't understand why. His mind was racing. He was too hungry for this. His thoughts were cut short when your voice echoes in the night. You had asked him who he was.

He knows you do not know him yet. He was well aware you technically weren't the version of you that he knew. This other you lived an entirely different life, grew up with an entirely different family, a different culture. Perhaps he was being irrational, but the thought of you not remembering his name strained his heart.

He does not want to do this again.

He does not give you his name. Instead, he apologizes for his intrusion and storms off into the night, leaving you wondering about the pale man in the cloak. You start to frequent the clearing in hopes to see the man again.

He was well aware of why you were there, which was why he avoided the clearing like the plague. He changed his hunting route and made sure you do not cross paths again.

But you were relentless. You started venturing deeper within the woods. You wanted to see him again for reasons neither you or the count could understand. Something was pulling on that invisible string of fate and while he resists it, you let yourself be dragged into the void of uncertainty.

You did not fear the unknown, a trait that seemed to have passed on from your other life and he admires you for that, but he was a coward. So terrified of falling in love again, so terrified of heartbreak that he wouldn't even try to deny it. He was being unfair to you and he knows it.

But fate was strong and even he couldn't resist its call. Not when he sees your immaculate beauty under the moonlight.

Terrified as he was, he finds the courage to approach you. When your eyes met his, all his worries and doubts faded away and he knew right then that he was willing to walk through the burning sunlight just to have you back in his life. The count decides to court you again.

When he offers to turn you, you refuse, but that doesn't deter him. As painful as it would be to have to watch you die again, he knew he would be able to accompany you as you grow old and that was enough. Your short lifespan will not stop him because knew he would find you again.

And this is where the cycle starts.

Again.

And again.

He would find you in each of your lifetimes, and while the anxiety of introductions were still there, he manages to handle it better each time.

You kept refusing his offers to grant you immortality and pains him to watch you die over and over but he persists on courting you in each of your lifetimes because he could not bear to be parted from you.

Throughout the years, Copia finds that he still ages. It's just a lot slower than the way humans do. He learns that it would take them hundreds if not thousands of years, but they do eventually age and wither away too.

In each lifetime with you, he looks a little older. Not that you could tell, but he does. The count would only introduce himself when your age gets a little closer to his physical age. Ever the gentleman, he prefers to be seen with you appropriately.

In some lifetimes, you've had flings, lovers. None of which lasted long enough, but it was painful to watch you fall in and out of love with other people. Still, the count waits until the time is right to introduce himself again. He watches you through every heartbreak but each time, he would always be ready to piece you back together.

Things get harder for him as time goes by because each lifetime he spends with you means that he’s going to be with you for less years in the next. He hates how short human lives are, how quick you are to age, and he wishes nothing more than to share his pseudo immortality with you but you always fucking refused and he cannot fathom why.

You had started a list of things you wished to do before you died. A painful thought for him, but a fun adventure for you. There were lots of things you wanted to see and do before your time runs out and he chuckles. He reminds you again that there was another way of extending your life, that the offer still stands.

You look at him, heart heavy at the words you were about to say. It was difficult, for sure, to tell the love of your life that you cherished your mortality - for in a way, it was like telling him that you didn't wish to spend an eternity to love and cherish him. But it was far from that. It wasn't about him, it never was.

Mortality reminds you of how short life is, it pushes you to live it with a burning spirit and it helps you appreciate and treasure every moment you spend alive. It made you grateful about a lot of things and you believed that it gives you a sense of purpose.

At long last, he finally gets a clear answer to why you always refused. He admires your optimistic view of life and death, how you cherish every little mundane thing that happens. How you have no regrets no matter how bad things get, how you celebrated even the littlest of achievements. His heart swells when he learns that your mortality makes you appreciate and love him even more.

He appreciates you explaining this to him even though you both knew that it would bring the two of you into emotional turmoil, but he understands now. Or at least he understands enough in a way an immortal could.

At the back of his mind, he still wishes you said yes.

———

As several lifetimes pass, he starts to look too old for you to fall for, or at least that’s what he thinks. He didn't feel it was appropriate to keep courting so he just watches from afar, admiring... hurting. He watches you recreate the life you once lived over and over together with someone else. Have a huge family; kids, grandkids... you've found yourself a perfectly good soil to plant your roots and you flourished.

It was damning enough to have to watch you grow old and die over and over again but it was torture to watch you go through life without him by your side. It seems there was no winning in either situation because in the end, he would always end up alone and hurting.

It was hard seeing you happy, it was even harder when he finds you sad but he can't be with you this time, so he decides to stop visiting.

He tries so hard to stay away, and it works out for him in the most part, but he always somehow ends up finding you in your old age, sneaking in the hospital(sometimes in old homes) to accompany you in your last few days on earth in the lifetime you spent without him, and he would hold your hand each time. You may not know who he was, but you felt safe and you would always let him stay.

You'd tell him about the life you've lived, and even though he knew all about it(because Lucifer knows he just couldn't stay away for too long without checking up on you), he was always all ears.

He doesn't ask you if you wished to live longer, he stopped asking you several lifetimes ago.

He was there when you felt the soft embrace of death. He holds his breath, his cold hands tightening their hold on yours as you breathe in your last huff of air. He trembles as he watches your eyes close, and he shuts his eyes too, hoping to the infernals that you take him with you when you cross the bridge. But it doesn't happen.

It wasn't his time.

He doesn’t let your hand go when you flatline. He stayed until the color drains from your body, until your hands start to grow cold and he wonders if this was what it was like for you when you held his hand.

He did not attend your funeral.

The cycle of heartbreak starts again.

———

The count struggles between wanting to stay alive, and wishing for the sweet release of death.

He wants to die just so he can reincarnate with you but he knew that it would mean total reset. He was afraid of forgetting everything; the things he's done, what he achieved throughout the years. He was scared of losing himself, his identity, because for the longest time, this was all he knew. But most importantly, he didn't want to forget you.

He didn't want to forget your face, your smile, the way you'd crinkle your nose when you're confused, the way your hair falls over your face while you focused on your work. He doesn't want to forget the sound of your voice whenever you call his name, the whispers, the warmth of your skin that contrasts his cold fingers. How your face flushes red whenever he'd whisper something to your ear. He wants to remember every you in every lifetime, every declaration of love, the good, the bad, even the screaming matches you had when you had first refused to be turned. He wants to remember even the lifetimes you spent without him. Together or not, he cherishes it all.

He remembers the time when you felt a little disheartened by the fact that you couldn't complete your bucket list, and he would comfort you, tell you that it's alright. He remembers how he'd make sure you get to do what was left on said list on your next life. He did not want to forget all of the things he did for you. How excited he would get when he learns something new about you - every new thing you like, every quirk, every flaw.

Call him selfish all you want, but you were all he had. You were the one consistent presence in his life and he did not want to forget a single detail about you in all your marvelous, gut wrenching glory.

But in the end, he knows all this talk about remembering were nothing more than a tantalizing dream.

It takes him a while to notice he's slowly becoming senseless, how everything is starting to feel numb. He felt like his head was floating. It was as if he was losing blood - his body as heavy as the burden he carries on his heart, but at the same time, he feels so light. He was terrified, for he couldn't move. It was like he's forgotten how to even though he was certain it was possible a moment ago.

And then he realizes why. After a millennia and a half of watching the world burn and rebuild itself, he was finally dying.

Only now at the face of death did he realize how too much of a price he has paid in exchange for the immortality he once cherished. He carried so much burden and for what?

Looking back, he realizes how selfish he had been - to attempt to keep reliving old memories with every new you as if you were the same person as you were the first time you met. He had been stagnant, chasing the same high for countless years, only to feel so useless without it - without you.

Finally, he understands what humanity was like. He learned then how it was like to live your experience, he felt what you felt and he was grateful for it. If he was ever given another opportunity to live forever in the next life, he would turn it down. He would rather face death than live another lifetime away from your arms.

As his time draws near, he prays to the infernals, to Satan, to Lucifer, and to anyone who would listen to him wishing, pleading, that even if he forgets, your paths would still find a way to cross.

Little by little, he loses perception and the memories that come with it.

He recognizes the faint scent of freshly cut grass and the sweet aroma of the wisteria tree. As quickly as it comes, it was gone - gone with the memories he had long since hoarded.

And then, there was nothing.

It was as if there was no pain, worries, or regrets. He has found solace and comfort in the emptiness. He was finally free.

When he closes his eyes for the last time, he finally forgets the color of yours.

———

In his next life, his memory is wiped clean. He remembers nothing, not even the heartbreak.

He was no longer the Count who stalked the city streets at dead of night. No more did he hunt and prey on bastards on the streets and forests for blood. There were no more bloodlusts, no more burning under the sun.

All he is now is a human - A Cardinal, serving the satanic ministry and he busies himself with work to ignore the feeling of something missing. He's had lovers - some flings, some serious, but they never last. He'd given up on trying to find that missing piece on other people some years ago.

Until his eyes land on you, walking through the chapel doors - a fresh face that stood out amongst the sea of siblings and ghouls attending the mass he was about to lead. You were simply a curious visitor, he could tell. As you sat on the pews, he felt the need to make you want to keep coming back, so he pours his heart and soul out in his sermon. How fitting it was that the topic of the week was about love - within yourself, for the dark one, and for others. The words flow out of his mouth effortlessly. Never in his life had he felt so inspired, so moved, all because of you and he doesn't even know who you are.

He feels a sort of pride when you approach him after mass, telling him about how you've never heard such genuine passion in a sermon, how captivated you were as he spoke. You tell him how excited you were to come back next week.

The fates were tugging at the strings again and this time, he doesn't resist.

The Cardinal knows nothing about you but he is determined. He does not worry for he has the rest of his life to figure you out.

A/N: Big thanks to my friends for fanning the flames and giving me writing pointers and ideas. Your tears inspired me to keep writing lmfao ily. I hope this wasn’t too bad for a first published fic. :)

#my art #my writing #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost the band #cardinal copia x reader #dracopia #ghost band fanfiction #angst with a hopeful ending #the band ghost x reader #cardinal copia #copia #papa emeritus iv

197 notes · View notes

khalixvitae · 8 months

Text

★Under The Skin ★

Rook Hunt x Reader | ~3k words

Warnings: mentions of death and dying (not descriptive), a smattering of angst but we don’t have time to unpack all that; semi suggestive at points because I cannot seem to help myself; mentions of book 6 but nothing too descriptive! Reader is also implied to know Floyd. Vaguely canon compliant, takes place ambiguously after book 6

Info: I’ve been obsessed w the idea of Rook w an implied goth reader who collects bones and makes bone jewelry. Entirely self indulgent (i am goth and I collect bones and make jewelry Lmao). GN reader, no physical descriptors used other than that the reader wears jewelry.

——————————————————————————

Rook Hunt was an odd duck, you’d always known that much for certain. He was hyper observant and yet seemingly unaware of social norms, constantly invading the personal space of those around him. Ever the chatterbox, he’d seamlessly suck any passersby into a whirlwind of a conversation, gleaning whatever information or entertainment he’d sought out before discarding his still confused target with a friendly adieu. He would regularly monologue, lyricize, and wax poetic about even the most mundane of things. Frankly it was difficult not to notice such glaring personality traits- he had a habit of making his eccentricities everyone’s business.

Even so, his outlandish tendencies and flowery language only further obscured what kind of person he was hiding beneath the surface (and beneath that bizarre hat). He was in Pomefiore, after all- and a Vice housewarden no less. It only made sense that his public persona, as bewildering as it may have seemed, was carefully crafted by his dexterous hands. Always guiding the conversation away from himself with a practiced ease, it was obvious he sought to keep any clear image of his character permanently out of focus. He was like a mirage- not quite tangible, his perimeter fuzzy and constructed only of contradictory statements or nearly mythological anecdotes. No matter how hard you tried to get a peek behind the veil, he was always just out of sight. You had always been certain that the trajectory of any arrow fired by those same hands would be far straighter, cleaner, than any conversation you could ever hope to have with the huntsman.

Which is what made your current situation all the more unexpected.

“And this one?” His eyes darted to another one of the many trinkets you’d scattered across your bed. Lithe fingers hesitated over the pendant he’d zeroed in on, an owlish gaze flickering up to meet your own. He wanted permission. How very unlike himself, you thought. Or perhaps it was more like him than he’d ever been in your presence- you had no way of knowing, of course. You pushed the thought away and instead nodded affirmatively. He plucked the necklace from the duvet, its weight remembered by an indentation in the plush down.

“Yeah, I found that amber while digging around on the beach with Ace and Deuce. I’d never seen inclusions like that before. It just needed a little polishing up and it made for a really nice piece. The other stones are tigers eye- I got those online.” He held the petrified resin up to the sunbeams streaming through your bedroom window, nodding affirmatively as you spoke.

“Magnifique! How lucky you are, mon Trickster.” He rolled the stones between his fingers, a musical lilt coloring his speech. “You have quite the collection- a proper Cabinet des Merveilles.”

You shrugged at that, glancing down at the innumerable treasures you’d accumulated. Well, treasures was a subjective title to say the least. Bones or teeth belonging to unknown animals, each fragment you’d found in the woods and painstakingly cleaned to later preserve. Carefully dried flowers from plants you’d never seen prior to your arrival in Twisted Wonderland, as well as some familiar varieties you’d taken comfort in coming across. Sea glass, petrified coral, and iridescent shells you’d collected on trips to the coast with your friends. A shadow box of butterfly specimens found around the school’s botanical gardens, each one you’d mounted with care. Evidence of your time there, proof of your experiences and your memories and your love for a foreign place you’d slowly made home.

When you managed to untangle yourself from your own sentimentality, you realized he was watching you. He was waiting. His vibrant green eyes were too green in the early evening light, shining like pools of opaque, still wet oil paint.

“I’m glad you like them,” you answered simply, your voice far more hoarse than you’d anticipated. The bizarre nature of your situation only hit you further when he shifted his weight, his attention now focused solely on you- as if you were a specimen in your own collection.

All of this because he’d inquired about your earrings in homeroom.

They were simple things, really. Pretty green glass beads strung together with tiny bones you’d unearthed on one of your many hikes. They had belonged to something small, and you were certain the delicate pieces were vertebrae. It was a wonder they were so intact- however despite their relatively pristine condition, you had no idea what creature they’d belonged to.

You figured they’d caught the light just right, or maybe you’d tilted your head just so- it didn’t take much to catch the hunter’s attention, after all. Whatever the case, halfway through the lesson you’d noticed his keen eyes on you. Your recognition did nothing to deter his blatant staring; in fact, he’d waved at you. As strange as it may have been, you didn’t pay it much mind. Rook was odd, sure, but he’d never done anything outright malicious. Well, not towards you. This kind of behavior was well within his usual repertoire and therefore easy enough to ignore.

In much the same way, it wasn’t totally unexpected for him to descend upon you as soon as the bell rang for dismissal. Rook wasn’t an especially large guy, at least not compared to some of your other classmates. He was broad shouldered and sturdily built, sure, but he wasn’t a notable giant like Jack Howl. And yet something about Rook made him loom, an imposing presence despite his cheerful cadence and charismatic smile. He always toed a fine line, giving the impression that he was all over you without ever once making physical contact. Your encounter that day had been no different; he’d spouted off a laundry list of greetings and praises, only half of which you’d managed to catch, before dipping in closer to view your handiwork.

“Oh! Beau savoir-faire! Did you make these yourself, Trickster?” The way he’d honed in on the dangling vertebrae made you keenly aware of how they framed the vulnerable column of your throat; the equivalent to a neon sign for any apex predator, Rook himself included. Feeling ever more exposed, the rest of the conversation passed with a quickness you had grown to expect from the hunter. Before you knew it, you’d invited him to come by Ramshackle so he could view the rest of your collection. After all, it wasn’t often that someone took vested interest in your little hobby. Ace thought it was outright creepy. Shells were fine, and he could almost (almost) give the butterfly thing a pass, but bones were where he drew the line and made a point to tell you so. And tell you he did. Frequently. Deuce was less outright rude about his discomfort- he wasn’t Ace, after all- but the squeamish look on his face was enough to deter you from showing him any unusual specimens.

When you’d arrived home from classes that day, Rook was already on your doorstep. He looked excited, nearly childlike in his enthusiasm. You’d resolved to yourself then that letting him into Ramshackle would do no harm- Rook was strange, yes, but he was only as dangerous as the rest of your peers. He’d never been remotely unkind to you; in fact, he’d been extraordinarily helpful on more than one occasion. Besides, he was already there, patiently waiting for you on your own stoop. Turning him away now would be just plain rude, not to mention he often made pleasant company.

And so there you were, settled across from Rook Hunt of all people. Alone, in your otherwise desolate dorm- the Great Seven only knew where Grim had slinked off to when your guest arrived. Even the ghosts had made themselves scarce since you’d guided Rook to your bedroom. That being several hours prior, you were astonished that not a solitary soul had intruded upon your peace. Normally something or someone would’ve stirred up trouble for you by then, but the dormitory was silent. He was still silently observing you, and that exposed feeling from earlier in the day seeped back into your bones.

“The ones you’re wearing. May I look at them again? The lighting here is much better, no?” As always he sounded so sublimely agreeable, and it would’ve felt even more revealing to tell him no. Not that you wanted to tell him no, necessarily. If anything, you didn’t mind the thought of him getting closer. That was a damning thought you forced down immediately as you gave him the go ahead. He removed his hat and placed it somewhere beside him- you didn’t keep track of where, far too focused on his reasoning for doing so. He leaned in closer, so close in fact that the brim of his trademark accessory would’ve prevented him from achieving the proximity.

“Snake vertebrae,” he murmured, as if identifying them didn’t take a moment’s thought. “And my, how wonderfully preserved! You’re quite talented, mon Trickster.” His breath grazed your cheek as he spoke, words ringing impossibly close to your ear. The sudden thought that he smelled nice passed over you, only serving to grow your list of absolutely damning thoughts about Rook Hunt. The subsequent realization that there was a list to begin with would have made your blood run cold had the heat of your embarrassment not warmed you down to your bones.

You briefly recalled one of Floyd Leech’s many complaints he’d voiced to you on your living room floor. He’d dropped in uninvited, if memory served you right, but you’d digress for the moment. You weren’t sure of the full context- you didn’t make point to pay that much attention when Floyd was in one of his moods- but what you did remember was a rather innocuous detail he’d given you about the hunter sitting on your bed. That he only wore perfumes when he wanted to be noticed. Of course Floyd’s delivery had been much more coarse and insulting, but nonetheless. And the herbal, nearly floral scent you’d caught was definitely cosmetic, you were sure of that. So he wanted to be noticed by you, then? Another idea to add to your ever growing list.

The soft shuffling of leather brought your senses back into sharp focus. He’d removed one of his gloves, brandishing his bare hand in your line of sight. “May I?”

You nodded silently, watching it for as long as you could. A gentle tug on your earring let you know he was turning the charms around, looking it over carefully with those unnerving eyes of his. Wheatgrass strands of his cropped hair tickled your skin, but you held as still as one of the courtyard statues.

When he finally sat back he looked more than pleased. “Your finds are most impressive,” he chittered, tapping his bare fingers against his gloved ones. You watched them for a moment, taking note of the practiced calluses on each exposed fingertip- marks of his upbringing that even Vil’s carefully coordinated skincare routines couldn’t fully erase.

“But why do you collect them?”

The question wasn’t entirely unexpected- it was quite common for people to be curious about what motivated such a strange hobby. What was unexpected though was the glint in his eye. Something hopeful and genuine brewed behind his placid expression, something you couldn’t quite place but intended to figure out.

“Because they’re beautiful,” you replied, far surer and more steadfast than you’d been moments before.

“Even though they’re dead?” He raised a manicured eyebrow at you expectantly, the shine of his eyes catching the sun’s last bright rays.

“Of course. I mean why wouldn’t they be? It’s not like death itself is innately ugly. And dead things aren’t either.” It was your turn to lean forward, soaking up his expression that wasn’t all that unlike surprise.

A quiet laugh bubbled up past his lips. “So you do not fear death, then?”

You shook your head, matching the soft smile he offered you in exchange for your thoughts. “Death, no. Dying? Absolutely. Dying has a sensation- well, probably, its not like I’ve done it before- and that’s what I’m afraid of. What it feels like. I’m way more impartial when it comes to death itself. Mostly because it’s also impartial. It just is. It’s not malicious, or calculating. It’s just there.”

You brushed a hand over your trinkets, choosing your next words carefully. “I guess the only scary part about death is that when you’re dead, you run the risk of being forgotten. I mean, that’s why stuff like ruins and run down cemeteries are a thing. It’s not that those things don’t matter anymore because they’re dead, but because they’ve been forgotten about. Bones are a lot like that. Just because they aren’t up and moving anymore doesn’t mean they just cease to exist. The thought of dead things being forgotten about… bothers me? I guess? Especially when they’re beautiful things. Because all beautiful things were loved at some point, even in passing.” Perhaps this was all getting a little too introspective. Part of you wondered if you were a forgotten thing back in your own world; what had your loved ones done? Sometimes you felt like a dead thing with no body, no grave for them to visit. Something that had truly ceased to exist outside the memory of those around you. You worried you were revealing far too much, however his wide eyes and parted lips were all the encouragement you’d needed to continue forward.

“So I like to find them and clean them up. Yeah they’re inanimate now, but they deserve to be remembered and loved, even if they’ve changed. And I do love them. They’re special to me, just like the times and places I found them.”

Rook was wound taut like a bowstring, his posture rigid and features affixed in an expression of unmistakable awe. And there he was. Suddenly his usual shifting demeanor was frozen in time. The smoke and mirrors he usually deployed were no longer in effect, and you were absolutely sure that you were getting an honest look at him. Staring at him like that, you could recall a few instances where you’d seen him in momentary clarity. When he’d jump to protect his juniors, or when he nearly took off alone during the STYX debacle, and when something would catch him so off guard he’d throw his head back in unpracticed laughter. This was that Rook. The prolonged sight made it hard to breathe.

The final fiery glows of the setting sun illuminated him, now uninterrupted by the wide brim of his hat that still lay discarded on your bed. In the warm evening light you could faintly see the ghosts of freckles along his high cheekbones and the bridge of his nose, faded but still a part of him. His soft woodsy perfumes, the bare hand laid flat against your duvet and the hopeful way he stared at you, as if begging you to accept some sort of invitation you’d never consciously received.

For the first time you could recall, he looked weak.

And just as quickly, he began to slip away. His long lashes fluttered and he forced a quiet laugh- he was beginning to recompose his facade piece by piece. He went to work slipping on his missing glove, beginning one of his typical monologues- he was running. Whatever silent offer he’d given you, you’d sorely missed your chance. If you didn’t think of something, anything to stop him, you were sure this wouldn’t happen again. “Magnifique! Another devoted to the pursuit of love, much like myself! How dreadful it is that the evening is drawing to a close-“

“You’re so beautiful.”

Whatever door he’d tried to close was promptly blown off its hinges. There was a heavy silence that settled over the two of you as his already wide eyes grew to the size of saucers. The sun had fully dipped below the horizon, and now the fluorescent street lamp by your window illuminated his visage in new shades of blue.

“Excusez-moi?” His honey colored lashes fluttered as he once again met your gaze. You may as well have punched him in the gut.

“I said you’re beautiful, Rook.” By lightly nudging his hand away from his hat you only further disarmed him. Something in his posture went lax; the bowstring had finally snapped, leaving him boneless, powerless beneath your intense gaze. He looked relieved. Being so exposed was exhausting, yet set a visible shiver down his spine.

All at once you placed that glint in his eyes from before, his silent request coming into vivid focus. An aching desire to be a part of your larger collection- something to be coveted, something to be loved regardless of form. You supposed one devoted to the pursuit of love would crave it the most. Had that been what this was from the start? His benevolent assistance, his endless compliments, his unwavering attention? You’d written it off as his usual eccentricities, but had he been subtly peacocking this whole time? The way he allowed you to ever so gently remove both gloves and press your skin against his gave you all the confirmation you needed. When you trailed your fingertips along his forearms before encircling his wrists, he all but pushed them into your grip. There was something else in his verdant gaze, something that told you he’d ask you to maim him and enthusiastically thank you after the fact. Not that you’d ever want to harm him at all; no, seeing him in such a state gave you an abrupt and thorough understanding of his desire to protect all things beautiful.

However, Rook would, in fact, leave shortly after. Your time had drawn to a close, and he did have duties to tend to at his own dormitory. Part of you worried he wouldn’t come back- that the moment of weakness the huntsman shared would be regretted as soon as he slipped away.

How foolish of you.

A few days afterward on your way to class, you noticed something glinting in the morning light. An arrow, cleanly wedged into the clapboard by your front door. A little bag of trinkets had been secured to it, along with a note.

“Pour le Cabinet des Merveilles de mon amour” - R.

——————————————————————————

Tag list for those of y’all who were on the same wavelength over the last few days! Feel free to DM to be added! A Vil fic is probably gonna be next bc I have Pomefiore brainworms alsjdkdj (and dm if you wish to be removed ofc! <3)

@v-anrouge @vtoriacore @phoneymedic @gum-gum-time

#alright boys here it is #me being mentally unwell over rook hunt in the open #I’ve reformatted this so many times but i figured id just floor it while I had a moment !#twst #twisted wonderland #twst rook #rook hunt #x reader #khalix writes （＾＿＾）☆#rook hunt x reader #I am so nervous yikes #edit I FORGOT THE TAG LIST EEEK

114 notes · View notes

shina913 · 2 years

Text

Coquet, Part 6 | JJK

Coquet, Part 6

\ kō-ˈket Definition: noun. a man who indulges in flirtation.

✫✫✫Coquet Masterlist✫✫✫

Pairing: Escort!JJK x Fem-reader

Rating: M (🔞)

Genre: Fake-dating!AU; Strangers to lovers; fluff; angst; smut

Warnings: SLOW BURN!; excessive cussing; A LOT of sexual tension; very explicit sexual conversations; vulnerable confessions; fluffy dance class; fluffy conversations; some angst; naked tub-talk; heavy teasing; food play; oral sex (F-receiving); nipple/breast play; protected sex; dirty talk; multiple orgasms; hyperstimulation; STAMINA! (IDC, it's a fic so I can do whatever I want 😂 ); spooning; bed-sharing

Word count: 9.6K+ words (Eeps! Sorrryyyyy)

Summary: On your brother's wedding, you dread traveling to see your family–whom you have successfully avoided for over a year after moving across the country for work. In an effort to save face, you hire an escort to get them off your back and perhaps even make your ex–who happens to be the best man–a little jealous.

A/N: So...I went from 0 to 120...Literally from having no idea to having ALL of the ideas 😂 Also, I did my best to look at ballroom dance videos. Please take it with a grain of salt. It’s meant to be fluffy and angsty! I really went through it with this chapter…literally could not get these two off my mind! I also may or may not have listened to Usher's "Seduction" on repeat. That said, I'll shut up now so you can all get to it. 🍸

Blinking up at the ceiling, you realized you’d fallen asleep. Specks of sunlight peeked into the room–but not so harshly where it aggravated your dull headache. Whoever invented blackout curtains needed to be given a Nobel Prize…stat!

You took a deep breath, but as soon as you released it, panic hit–the horrible inevitability of waking from a blissful dream into a nightmare reality. You had vague memories of the last few hours. The drinks. The dancing. The flirting with random guys. The trip to the ATM machine.

Jungkook…

You turn your head sharply to the other side of the bed to find it empty. The pillow tucked neatly under the sheets.

“Fuck!” You jump out of the bed immediately to find your purse. You hoped to god that he didn’t see all of that cash that you stuffed into your tiny clutch–cash you planned on paying him to have sex with you.

You spot it by the TV, sitting in the tray next to the hotel-standard ice bucket.

You squeeze your eyes shut and gripped your forehead. And it wasn’t just because of the hangover that was finally hitting you.

Did anything happen? You weren’t sure. You had fragments of memories from last night. But while you pondered on those, traces of bile made its way up from your gut, coating your tongue. You run into the bathroom, barely making it, then upchuck into the toilet bowl.

******

Before you hopped into the shower, you texted him. You stood there for a couple of minutes to wait for a response, but it didn’t come. You sighed, figuring that you might hear back from him by the time you were done washing up.

You looked at yourself in the mirror briefly, finally seeing the clothes that you had fallen asleep in. The last thing you remember before blacking out was him laying you on the bed, locked in a passionate kiss. Sometime after that, he may have taken your dress off and wiped your makeup off…even slipped one of his t-shirts on you. You lifted the material up to your nose and took a whiff of it. It smelled just like him.

You suddenly felt immense guilt. You vaguely remember being laser-focused on fucking him after you got back from the club…but you didn’t pace yourself and ended up making impulsive decisions. Maybe he was pissed off that you passed out on him and gave him blue balls?

You had feared the worst but tried to brush the thought aside. Maybe he was just downstairs grabbing coffee or decided to take a walk?

Without you.

Feeling resigned, you decide to step into the shower stall. Perhaps he would be back once you were done.

After a haphazard shower, you stepped out to find that Jungkook still hadn’t texted you back or called. Unlike yesterday, there was no breakfast, nor coffee laid out for you today.

You threw on some sweats and picked up the clothes that you slept in off the bathroom floor and put them in your laundry bag. You could at least leave that for housekeeping later today to wash and give his shirt back to him when it was clean.

Your phone pings with an incoming text. You rushed over to check thinking that it was Jungkook finally responding to your earlier messages.

Nope, it was just Jennie. She wanted to check to make sure that you were alive and still up for dance class today.

Fuuuuck…dance class. You squeezed your eyes shut once more and grimaced.

A follow-up text popped up on her message screen saying that Jungkook was at the coffee shop by himself and when she asked where you were, he said something about letting you sleep in.

You decided that it was better to have that uncomfortable conversation sooner rather than later. One thing you didn’t want was for this relationship with Jungkook to sour when you were so close to the end of your business arrangement.

******

You wander downstairs to the hotel coffee shop, standing by the doorway as you scan the room, searching for him. You recognized a few of the girls and guys from the day before–all nursing the same hangover in their own ways.

“Heyyy,” Jimin greets you with a big smile as he strolls towards you. He looked like he had gotten 10 hours of sleep when in reality, he’d only slept for 2. But your cousin has always been like that ever since you were old enough to drink together. You’d gone on trips to Vegas, New Orleans…even booze cruises to Mexico. He could drink anyone under the table.

“Uh, hey, Chim,” you croaked out, still a bit distracted.

He chuckled. “Oof, you sound just as horrible as you look.”

You give him a deadpan look. “Fuck you very much,” you say dryly.

“At least you smell clean,” he says with a teasing grin.

You roll your eyes at him then see him carrying a paper bag. “Oh, these are for Mindi and Taehyung,” he says, answering your silent question. “Taehyungie asked me to grab him some food. And Mindi couldn’t get out of bed so—I’m trying to be a good big brother and get her something to make her feel better.”

“That’s sweet of you,” you commented.

“Jimin-ah! Why aren’t you dressed yet?” His mom, your Auntie Dahlia remarks as she approaches him.

“Ma, we have like, another hour and a half before we leave. Tyeongie went back to sleep for a bit.”

“Aish…And I can tell from this that you haven’t showered yet,” she says, ignoring his last comment while she ran her fingers through his hair, feeling traces of hair product.

“Eomma, can’t I at least get a medal for being the least hungover of this group?”

“Sweetheart, that is not an achievement to be proud of. Now please, start pulling yourself together and see about getting Mindi up, too. I’m not about to be embarrassed with you all being late to this dance class,” she scolds him.

Jimin turns his face away from her and subtly rolls his eyes.

“How are you, honey?” She turns to you.

“I’m okay, auntie. Thank you for asking,” you smiled tightly.

Before she gets another word in, your mother closes in. “Oh, YN–did you forget to put on your retinol mask before going to bed last night?”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes at your mother. She had the worst timing, really. “Rosie–you’re not trying to push your beauty routine on YN again, are you?” Your dad remarks as he approaches her from behind.

You smiled warmly at him then furrowed your brows once you got a good look at him. “Dad, you’re looking a little pale. I know you didn’t party with the guys but–are you okay?”

He waves you off. “Oh, I’m fine, honey–”

“He missed a dose of his medicine and felt a little faint earlier,” your mom says with a hint of ‘I- told-you-so’ to her voice.

He sighed. “I took it once I remembered it,” he corrected her. “Besides, I just need to lie down. I needed some orange juice to raise my blood sugar.”

You look at him suspiciously. “Okay but–no more skipping! Do you want me to adjust the reminders on your phone?”

“That’s not necessary, YN. I’ll be fine. I won’t miss it, I promise.” He smiles before giving you a kiss on your temple before he walks off with your mother.

“Jimin-ah!” Auntie Dahlia says, giving Jimin a stern look–she did not need to repeat herself.

“Yes, eomma,” he says, sighing in exasperation after she walks away.

“So…you’re joining us for dance class?” You ask him.

He nods. “I’ve been drafted. Haru was supposed to partner up with Mindi but since he didn’t get in until half an hour ago, eomma figured he’d be useless so she asked me to do it. The instructor is a friend of hers from her swing-dance classes.”

“Oh…okay then. Listen, have you seen uh—“

“Yeah,” he cuts you off. “He’s at a corner table by the back room.”

You nodded, thanking him before he walked off.

******

You round the corner into the back room and found him just where Jimin said he was at. He was on his phone, mumbling into it. He lifted his eyes briefly, saw you walking towards him and rushed to sign off.

As soon as you reach him, he hangs up and puts his phone down, clicking the button to lock the screen.

You sit down opposite him and a server immediately approaches you, handing you a menu. Before they walk off, you quickly request for a pot of coffee and a glass of water.

When you turn your attention back to him, he’s scrolling through his phone again.

“Did you sleep well last night?” He asks absentmindedly without looking at you.

“Uh…yeah. A-and you?” You ask meekly.

He sighed heavily. “Somewhat. I don’t need much sleep anyway,” he says in a clipped tone.

After a long period of silence, you decided to get straight to the point.

“So…last night. Did…did anything happen, you know…between us?”

“If you’re wondering if we had sex, the answer is ‘no’,” he says contritely.

He was incensed…understandably so. You reeled him in with the promise of sex, only to leave him hanging. What kind of guy did you expect to be completely fine with that?

You blew out a breath.

“You seem relieved,” he points out sarcastically.

“N-no, that’s not…no.” You protest quietly. He shrugged. “Sure sounds like it.”

“A-are you upset with me?”

He lets out a bitter chuckle, finally peeling his eyes away from his phone screen to look at you. “Now why would I be upset?”

“Look…” you lowered your voice and looked around briefly before continuing. “I know you saw the money. I want to explain—“

“That’s not necessary. Nothing happened! No harm done,” he says icily before turning back to his phone.

“You say that but your face and tone tells me otherwise. Have I offended you?”

His nostrils flare, trying to rein in his annoyance before looking back at you again.

“Why would I be offended? You paid for me to come out here and pretend to be your adoring boyfriend. I did tell you that anything more intimate than kissing was extra and you did just that. It’s all part of the package,” he shrugs nonchalantly.

His words stung you. When you begged him to kiss you last night, he seemed eager to waive that fee. It was as if he wanted to kiss and touch you out of his own volition. Business arrangement, notwithstanding.

“Is that so? Whatever happened to ‘I’ll bill you later?’” You say, throwing last night’s remark back at him.

His eyebrows lift. “Ah, so you do remember last night.”

“I only…only remember fragments,” you say honestly. You don’t remember what else you said or did to or with him.

The context was too hazy for you and you wished you hadn’t drank that much. Then again, if you hadn’t taken in that much alcohol, would you still have come on to him like that?

He chuckled bitterly. “Well isn’t that incredibly convenient? Do you also remember deliberately withdrawing the money to pay for sex last night? Or was that part of your missing memory, too?”

You gasped at his comment but stopped short when the server returned with your coffee and water. They asked if you were ready to order but asked them for a few more minutes to decide.

You turn your attention back to Jungkook, who was now glaring at you.

You glowered back at him. “Well, excuse me for trying to be considerate! I only did that because…because I didn’t want you to think that I was expecting anything for free. Or…that I was expecting anything at all,” you spit out.

He scoffed. “Then it’s a good thing that nothing happened. You get to keep your money,” he seethed.

“Okay, so what if I did actually intend to have sex with you? What was the proper way to go about it? You said that it was an option but you never clarified the terms! Should we have shaken hands or signed a contract addendum? Should I have given you the money upfront before anything happened?” you bit out.

He rolled his eyes and leaned in. “I told you…sometimes it’s not always about the money.”

“If that’s the case then what are you so butthurt about?” You whispered harshly.

Jungkook bit the inside of his cheek. He wished that he could hide his disappointment but it was written all over his face. He was upset. Upset that you didn’t take him for the real thing. Upset you still saw him as nothing more than a service that you paid for.

“I’m not butthurt about anything,” he lied through his teeth. “Let’s just drop it, okay?” He says dismissively.

The server returns and you place your order. He sat while you devoured your breakfast before trudging back to your room to get ready for dance class.

You pass each other in the room while you get dressed without saying a word—fully intent on keeping a safe distance.

You were incredibly annoyed at him for being pissed at you because of some confusing yet unclear reason. After all that, you still had to spend the morning with your bodies pressed together.

Just fucking perfect.

******

You and Jungkook sat in different seats in the shuttle on the way to the dance studio. Your talk during breakfast resulted in a stalemate–which you’d have to endure further here.

“Hey man,” Taehyung approached Jungkook, who was standing in one corner while you stood chattering with Mindi and Jennie.

“Hey–are you feeling better?” He asked.

“I’ve, uh…had better days.” Taehyung chuckled. “Jennie got a little mad at me this morning but after I told her that you helped me get back, she felt better about it.” Jungkook nodded.

“Also, just to let you know, I don’t normally drink that much. You can even ask YN–I’m a lightweight.”

“Then why would you let Haru keep forcing you to drink?”

Taehyung lifted a shoulder and twisted his mouth. “Haru has always said I’m too nice for my own good,” he says wryly. “Plus, I feel like he might have been acting out, I don’t know. I was just trying to be a good friend.”

“He should be lucky to have you on his side,” Jungkook comments.

“Speaking of luck, I just wanted to thank you again for getting me back safely. I’m glad that you were there.”

“It was nothing–it was the right thing to do,” Jungkook says gently.

“Well, I will say, my sister is lucky to have found you. With a guy like you? I don’t need to worry about her because I’m confident she’s in great hands.” He gives Jungkook's shoulder a firm squeeze before the teacher finally walks in to greet them.

He stands there, looking at you from across the room. His face softens as soon as realizes his fuckup. This was a collapse in your communication and he reacted emotionally. He lost his grip on logic there for a moment because…well, it was because of you. Each hour he spent talking to you, holding and kissing you–that grip kept loosening further.

He wanted to fix things. And even though he was still holding back, he wanted to know…had to know…if you felt the same.

******

“The wedding dance is an important dance in a couple’s life. A room full of family and friends…watching, smiling, taking bets as to how long the union will last. But remember–all you’ll have is each other and whatever skills you acquire here today.” The dance instructor then clasps their hands together and tells everyone to pair off.

You so badly wanted to walk towards Jimin but he was already getting into a hold with Mindi. You glower at Jungkook, who stretches out his hand unenthusiastically at you. You take it limply.

“Now, make sure you are pressed against each other–a little closer, dear,” she says as she pushes Mindi and Jimin together.

“Oh, god–I’m having war flashbacks from my junior prom,” Mindi groans.

“Dude, shut up! You could have just stayed at the hotel, you know–since Haru couldn’t drag his ass out of bed,” Jimin argues.

They bicker some more and only stop when the teacher tells them that she would tell their mother on them.

The teacher now moves over to you and Jungkook, pushing your hips closer together. You stiffen, almost trying to resist her–but you underestimate her size and strength. Eventually, she closes the gap between you.

“So, we’re doing a basic foxtrot. Nothing too crazy but I know Taehyungie wanted to try something unique for the wedding.”

Jennie was ecstatic–she definitely got her beauty sleep last night.

“Now, the men will lead with their left foot stepping forward, women will step back with their right, followed by two side steps. I’ll demonstrate.”

The teacher does it slowly while you all watch her reflection in the mirror. You go for a few tries–slowly at first until you all pick it up.

“The next step is the corner step. Now this is a really great element that we're going to use to one: change direction, and two: to help us avoid obstacles out on the dance floor, whether it may be other couples around us, or to just get us back to facing the direction we need to be traveling.”

She does a demonstration for the men and the steps for the women.

Jungkook releases his hold on you which was perfect timing since your palms were getting sweaty. You look away from him while you shake them off. When you look back, you see him typing a quick message into his phone before putting it away and returning to hold you again.

“Your mind is somewhere else.”

“It was but it’s back here now,” he deadpans.

“If you don’t want to be here, just say so,” you whispered harshly.

He cocked an eyebrow at you. ”I never said anything like that,” he mumbled.

“Okay, well can you at least pretend like you want to be here with me?” You glared at him.

“Who says I’m pretending?”

Before you could answer, the teacher announced that you’d try the routine with music. She pushed a button on her controller, assuming it was for her sound system. The music swells with a track that you know only Taehyung would have picked.

You let out a huff as soon as Bobby Darin’s voice fills the room.

Call me irresponsible

Call me unreliable

The teacher begins the count to set the pace. “Now slow, slow, quick-quick…slow, slow, quick-quick.”

Throw in undependable too

Do my foolish alibis

Bother you

You glanced at Jimin and Mindi, who glided past you. Jimin twirled his sister around, breaking their hold for a moment before Mindi turns out and does a little arabesque. So much for being hungover.

Well I'm not too clever

I just adore you

Jungkook is reluctant to move and you look up at him. “What’s wrong, Jungkook? Two left feet?“ You say smugly. Thankfully, Auntie Dahlia had taken you, along with her children, to a couple of these classes when you were teenagers. You knew some of the basic steps so wouldn't be completely embarrassed.

Go on and call me unpredictable

Tell me that I'm impractical

His face visibly relaxed but narrows his eyes at your challenging tone. He flashed a smirk before propelling forward. You stumble a little at first but you regain your composure as he guides you through the floor.

Rainbows I'm inclined to pursue

You cover the entire room, gliding from wall to wall. Whirling and turning in time to the music. It’s effortless. Of course he can dance, you thought wryly.

You glide past Taehyung and Jennie, who was giggling as she watched both of you navigate the floor with ease.

You go ahead call irresponsible

I admit I'm unreliable

But it is undeniably true

You gasped as Jungkook takes you by surprise, picking you up off your feet to twirl you. Your hands instinctively grab onto his shoulders for support, as a lifted dancer would know. You couldn’t help but grin.

As the music winds down, he spins you one last time before finishing with a slow dip.

That I'm irresponsibly mad for you

The teacher is elated at everyone making her job easier. She then turns to Taehyung and Jennie to work more closely with them, seeing as the other couples didn’t need it.

When Jungkook pulled you back upright, you were practically nose to nose. Once you were hyper-aware of the closeness, you release each other. You uncomfortably shift, chewing at your bottom lip. You were pissed before but now you weren’t. You peered up at him and found him rubbing his earlobe. It looked like a nervous tick. You wanted to break the ice.

“Hey, I'm—“

“Listen, I—“

It seems that you both had the same thing in mind. But before either of you could speak again, Mindi interrupts.

“Unnie…can we please switch partners? Jimin-oppa is so annoying!” She stomps her feet petulantly.

“Excuse me? How ‘bout, a thank you, oppa—for not leaving me hanging because my intended asshole of a partner decided to be selfish…yet again…”

Mindi rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine thank-you, oppa!” She says sarcastically. “Now please…would you mind if we switch just this once?” She grimaces.

“Uh…if Jungkook is fine with it, I’m good,” you say carefully.

His eyebrows knit. “So, you’re just going to push me into the arms of another woman?” he says in a lighter, teasing tone.

“Just giving you some time to miss me, that’s all,” you smiled over your shoulder before walking over to Jimin.

He chuckled as he got into hold with Mindi.

“Oh and Mindi-yah—“

“Yes, unnie?” She says excitedly.

“Can you please do me a favor and not look like you’re enjoying this too much? I’ll take him back in a heartbeat,” you say with a playful warning tone to her as Jimin stifles a laugh.

You and Jungkook exchange looks, smiling at each other. Whatever you had fought about was out the window but you knew that you still felt the need to talk about it. He did say that you both needed to stay honest with each other to make this arrangement work. And you wanted to…in more ways than one.

******

After you got back from dance class Jennie and Mindi wanted to hang out a bit and talk about wedding rehearsals tomorrow. Your mother also wanted to talk through some ideas with Jennie. She asked you to be there as a cushion–and to remind her that Jennie is the bride.

You didn’t get to talk much with Jungkook on the ride back and up until you got back to the hotel. The beach party was well underway. The staff put on a great spread, had a couple of bonfires going.

“YN?”

“Jennie, hey,” you smiled at her.

“Hey, thanks again for joining me and Tae earlier. That was so much fun!”

“Of course! It took me a while to brush up on the ballroom dancing basics but, I think we managed,” you smiled.

“Also, I can’t find Jungkook but I keep forgetting to personally thank him for bringing Taehyung back in one piece. I could fucking kill Haru for what he did,” she seethed.

She glowered at a distance where he stood mingling with his parents, still looking disheveled as he finally emerged from his room to join the festivities. You followed her line of sight to see that he was wearing sunglasses–after the sun had already set. His hangover must be hitting him hard.

You both turn to each other again, chuckling after you find each other rolling your eyes in unison.

“Seriously, though–please tell Jungkook that I’m very grateful to him.”

“Well, that’s…my man,” you smiled softly.

“You found a good one,” she says to you quietly. “Hang onto him.”

Your heart squeezes. You really needed to talk to Jungkook…and soon. You had to settle some things for your own peace of mind. All of these mixed signals or miscues–you needed some clarity.

“Before I forget…I’ve been thinking about last night and…I just felt bad about how I talked to you before our night ended. I want to tell you how sorry I am for being too snappy at you. I clearly should not be drinking too much,” she chuckled nervously. “I just get a little testy,” Jennie says apologetically.

You tilt your head to the side and softened your expression. “Oh, babe–if anything, I’m sorry for being a Debbie-downer by lingering on past drama. It was your night. I’m sorry if I messed things up,” you tell her.

She took a deep breath, took your hand and squeezed it. “Babe, you could never mess things up. You’ve been such a great friend to me.” There was something in her sad smile that made your brow furrow but you thought nothing of it.

Seconds later, you are pulled away by a couple of aunts who say that you have kept them waiting too long to talk about the new man in your life. You and Jennie shared a brief hug before she walked over to entertain her family.

******

Even though you and Jungkook were apart for the rest of the afternoon, you found ways to steal glances from each other. You’ve decided within you that you’d give yourself another 5 minutes in this conversation before you slip away and get him alone. You subtly set a timer on your phone and continue on with the conversation.

When your timer goes off, you excuse yourself, saying that you had to take a call. Once you turn around he was already there waiting behind you.

“Hey, mind if we talk?”

“Yeah. I was just going to come and find you. Do you want to sit over here?” You gestured at an ornately assembled log bench a few feet away, made from found fallen trees and recycled wood. It looked like a piece of art in itself.

“Listen, I wanted to apologize for being a dick this morning.” He says immediately when you both sit.

“Jungkook–”

“No, please…let me finish,” he pleads. “I shouldn’t have taken advantage of the situation last night. I knew that you were drunk and–things got a little out of hand. I should have known better,” he explains.

He looks into your eyes in all sincerity. “Just so you know, that’s not something that I do. I’m not like that. If…if you ever wanted to do anything…intimate, I want you to be clear-headed and able to consent. And most of all, to remember that it happened.”

“I’m really sorry for passing out,” you lamented.

“That was out of your control,” he says understandingly.

“And the money–”

“Look…the money,” he sighed. “You were right this morning. I should have explained things and should have been more clear about it…you know, if that was your intention. We should have talked about it beforehand.”

He looks at you. He didn’t have a cold, distant look in his eyes–unlike this morning. He looked earnest and open to you.

You nodded. “I…I don’t know. I was making assumptions and I shouldn’t have.”

That piqued his curiosity. “Assumptions?”

“Y-yeah,” you took a deep, awkward breath and released it. Might as well show some honesty now, you thought. Assumptions and mixed signals wouldn’t get you far.

“I somehow had it in my head that…everything that you were doing meant something more,” you finally say, looking away.

He caught his lower lip with his teeth, fidgeting with his lip piercing. He swallows hard, feeling a pang of guilt. You were being honest to him and he owed you that much.

He gave you a small smile. “You know, I really enjoyed getting to know you this week. I feel this connection with you that–I haven’t felt with…others.”

And just like that, you had officially veered into a gray area. He was fully aware and finally acknowledged it within himself. It wouldn’t do him any good to lie his way through this conversation–not with you.

“I feel like this whole week, you’ve been learning so much about me. Too much, I’m afraid. And I realized that I haven’t really asked much about you.”

“My normal life is pretty boring, to be honest,” he says wryly. You chuckled at that. “I’d still like to know.” You gave him a look of reassurance.

He smiled nervously, taking a deep breath. He had never divulged much about his real life to his clients. It would burst the fantasy bubble.

You coax him further. “Come on, tell me about yourself. Do you have, like, an interesting birthmark? Maybe, a childhood pet that you wish you could clone? Or…a weird quirk?”

He cleared his throat and paused for a beat before speaking. “I’m very sensitive to smells. I have three diffusers in my room and five air purifiers around my place. I work so much that my only best friend in the world is my parents’ dog, Gureum. I also have a scar on my cheek that I got after fighting with my cousin over a video game.”

You listened intently, finding his candidness endearing.

“Also, I can’t measure a mattress to save my life. Once, I bought the wrong size for my bed and I was too lazy to call the store to take it back, so I just cut it.”

“You…cut it? How? With what?” You ask curiously.

“Scissors!” He says it so plainly as if it was the only sensible tool.

“Scissors.” You repeated incredulously.

“Uh-huh!” He says smugly.

You look away for a moment, brows furrowing deeply at his ‘quirk’. Then you look back at him and begin to laugh hysterically at the thought of him actually cutting a mattress with scissors.

He nodded. “Yep. And it worked. I finally got to push my bed against the wall.”

You threw your head back and continued to guffaw. Watching you fall in absolute stitches tickles him and he starts to laugh along with you.

In the midst of your howling, you lose your balance and almost fall over but he catches you. As he holds you close to him, he feels your laughs reverberate through his chest, flowing through the depths of him. All of his worries and doubts fade away at the sound of that belly-laugh that he found so appealing early on. It was a sign of reassurance for him. He grabs on to the feeling, vowing to hold on to it for as long as he was able to.

Gasping for air, you start to calm down. “Wow–that–wow…I don’t even know what to say to that,” you giggled, wiping the tears that have pooled in your eyes.

He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m a dork, I know.”

“That’s not what I pictured at all. You just seem like the coolest person in the room.”

“Key word being ‘seem,’” he points out.

You nodded and sighed. “Well, that was fun. Now, I want to head back upstairs.”

“Oh. Are you getting tired?” He asks.

“Not really, but I just feel like lazing around for the rest of the night. Maybe use that jacuzzi in the room for once,” you say casually as you start to walk away from him. “You can stay down here if you want, though.”

He raises an eyebrow at the thought, staying rooted to the spot for a few seconds. You were steps away from the main courtyard when he called your name. You turn around to see him jogging towards you.

“Changed your mind?”

“Yeah. I prefer to keep you company,” he uttered.

You smiled warmly at him before continuing to walk indoors and towards the elevators. “Okay. And just so you know, I plan on ordering room service. I want something fried and something sweet.”

“Sounds good to me,“ he says while he puts his arm around you.

******

After calling in your room service order, he offers to draw up the bath for you–bubbles and all. You changed out of your clothes while he watched the tub fill with water. After a few minutes, you walk in wearing a bathrobe, glanced at the tub, dipped your fingers in to check the temperature. It was hot enough to feel comfortable so you gave him your stamp of approval.

He gets up and begins to walk away to leave you in peace but you call out to him instead

“Aren’t you going to join me?”

You had a plan. Well, not really ‘a plan,’ but you wanted to try something.

He chuckled softly. “Do I have to wear a swimsuit if I get in?”

“No,” you say simply.

He raises an eyebrow, a gleam in his eyes. “Hold up–what happened to the YN who couldn’t even handle seeing my bare ass when I stepped into the shower last time?”

You laughed then shrugged your shoulders. “Let’s just say we’re past the awkward stage now.”

“Are you wearing a swimsuit?” He asks.

You scoffed then followed it with a chuckle. “Of course not! Don’t be ridiculous,” you say as you start to undo the robe’s sash.

His eyes widen then he quickly turns away right before the sides open. You shrug it off and hang it over by the hook on the wall then carefully step into the tub.

You started to giggle. “Now who’s being awkward?”

“I just–want to respect your boundaries, that’s all,” he reasons, eyes still shut.

“And you are,” you affirm. “I respect your boundaries, too. You can join me, only if you want to, but I also wouldn’t be mad if you won’t. I just wanted to relax. I figured you could use it, too.”

Truthfully, you weren’t sure where this would lead but you were taking a chance. You decided to roll with it.

You reached over towards the center of the tub that contained a small control panel, set a timer, then pushed the button to switch the jets on. You lean back against the tub and let your body sink further into the water. The bubbles, sticking to your chest and shoulders. You sighed and closed your eyes, not waiting for his response as the vibrations started to soothe your tired muscles.

Within a few seconds, you hear water sloshing and feel him settling opposite you, his foot grazing your calf when he steps in. When you open your eyes, his back is already leaning against the tub. His left knee is raised above the water, careful not to extend it too far towards you. His right leg, the one farthest away from you is stretched out against the side closest to the wall.

You smile at him and he gives you a smile back. “Happy?”

You chuckled softly then released a contented sigh. “At the moment, yes.”

You stared at each other silently while the tub jets continued to rumble around you, splashing water droplets around.

“Now that you’re here, can I ask you some more questions,” you finally say.

He laughs, pulling his hands out of the water and running his fingers through his hair, brushing it back. That view never gets old.

“Is that why you wanted to get me naked? Because you wanted to interrogate me some more?”

“You can always say ‘no’ to tub-talk.” You see a cloud of bubbles building up in front of you so you puffed out your cheeks and blew them towards him.

He laughs and dips his hand in the water again and splashes a little bit on you. “Fine. Hit me with more questions,” he relents.

“And you’ll still answer honestly?” You ask him pointedly.

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Good. Because if you don’t, my foot is in really close proximity to your crotch so–”

He started laughing, “Let’s not get all violent now, shall we?” He says, unconsciously cupping himself in case you tried anything.

“I kid, I kid,” you say in between giggles. If you were going to be honest, you had other ideas for his crotch…ones that involved you being on your knees–but now’s not the time for that yet. Keep it together, YN!

You took a deep breath. After a brief pause, you ask, “Have you ever had an instance where your relationship with your client has gone past…I don’t know, outside of the agreed-upon business terms?”

“What, like a breach of contract?” He clarified.

You laughed softly. Your professional brain was jumping way ahead of you. “Mm…Like, if a client paid for an evening, have you ever—spent time with them outside of that timeframe?”

He scoffs then stretches his arms wide, resting them on the tub’s rim. You tried not to get too distracted by his muscles and his tattoos. “Why don’t you just be straight with me and ask me if I’ve ever dated a client before.”

You rolled your eyes. “I was only trying to finesse—“

“I thought we were past the whole awkward stage?”

You paused, staring into his eyes. You had to give him that. “Okay. So, have you dated a client before?” You asked directly.

“No, never,” he says.

“Would you ever date a client?” You followed up.

He regarded you intently. Even though you sounded direct, you were still trying to dance around your point. Before you booked him, you were uncomfortable with the idea of a boyfriend-for-hire. You were even more appalled at the thought of paying him--a stranger--to sleep with you. And you almost crossed that bridge. Almost.

As the week winds down and your time with him is about to come to an end, you decide to get to know him better. As bizarre as this experience started out for you, you were finally becoming comfortable with the idea of him being around and…just spending time with him.

“Just to be clear–after our arrangement, there won’t be any more clients to speak of. Like I said before, this will be my final booking…ever.”

You looked at him skeptically.

“What? You find the idea of me quitting the business hard to believe?”

“No, I find it harder to believe that you’ve never dated a client before. I feel like you flirt so much. It’s almost pathological for you,” you laughed.

He shrugged. “I’m just playing a part–like an actor.”

“And…you’ve slept with clients before?”

“Yes, I have. Not a lot, but I have.”

You tried not to look disappointed–but you appreciated that he didn’t try to lie about it.

“Does that bother you?” He asks quietly.

“A little, but only because I’m unfamiliar with what your business entails. It’s all part of the package, right? If it’s on the menu, what’s stopping them from trying it?”

“You could say that.” He shifted his position on the tub but kept his eyes on you. “But I will say–I don’t just sleep with my clients. I don’t offer that option to everyone. I have to feel some attraction when I first meet them–at least have some sort of connection.” His gaze becomes more intense as you let this information sink in.

Your brows furrowed. Looking away from him briefly, the wheels started to turn in your head. Since he offered you the option, that meant…

Gasping softly, your eyes flicker, seeing a ghost of a smile play at his lips, once you worked it out. It hit you like a ton of bricks but you didn’t want to be completely presumptive. You shifted in the water, unknowingly pressing your thighs together. He turns his head away for a moment and covers his mouth with his hand.

The water’s temperature was starting to drop and the peaks of bubbles were slowly deflating, leaving gaps where you could see through the water.

This wasn’t what you had in mind when you asked him to take a bath with you.

You cleared your throat in an attempt to regain control of the situation. “I have…a few more questions. If you could just humor me?” So far, he’s been pretty open tonight. Allowing you into his world little by little. You were toeing the line, sure–and you were trying to find out at what point he’d stop you.

He chuckled. “Alright.”

It was your cue to push in. “Let’s say a client wanted to have sex with you...”

His jaw squared for a second but his lips eventually curved into a smile. “Okay.”

“You would charge an extra fee on top of your normal rate, right?”

“Right.”

“Is that a flat rate or…are there particular things you’d do for a certain amount? Like, is there a menu of services that you cover?” It sounded silly after you heard it spill out of your mouth. But you were genuinely curious…for a number of reasons that you weren’t ready to disclose to him yet.

“I do tiers,” he replies smoothly.

Your eyebrows lift. “Tiers?”

What was this, a cellphone data plan? A country club membership?

He nods. “Yep.”

“Explain.”

“It sounds stupid but it’s just like first, second, and third base. Some don’t want to go all the way–they just want a little taste, and I try to be respectful of that.”

“So–you don’t even get to…finish?” You ask uncomfortably.

He laughs. “It’s not about me,” he explains. “The mistake most men make is to get it on so they can get off. But once I changed my perspective where I want to pleasure a woman because I want to get her off, then that’s pleasure for me. Whatever she wants to do to me in return–that’s just icing on the cake.”

Your cheeks heat up, stomach doing backflips but you still try your best to keep your cool. “That makes sense,” you managed to say. “So…what next?”

He cleared his throat. “After we’ve set terms, both of us consent, the money is exchanged…and then we get right into it,” he says candidly. He sounds disconnected from it all–completely opposite from what he said about needing to feel some connection before he slept with a client.

Then again, he hasn’t taken on anybody else for…however long, before accepting your booking. Maybe that’s why he sounded so blasé about it.

“How do you start? Do you just make-out, or…”

“Nah, ‘making out’ is too pedestrian. You can do that with anyone,” he says flippantly before licking his lips then lowering his voice. “The key here is seduction,” he says slowly.

Your chest rose noticeably as you took in a shaky breath. If your hands weren’t underwater, your palms would be sweaty as hell right about now.

“We’d talk first. I ask them questions…find out what they like…what makes them feel good.”

“Is there usually alcohol involved?”

“Very little, if any. Maybe just to calm some nerves but I try to settle that just by having a nice conversation first,” he explains. “I want to maintain the connection, if I can help it. Too much alcohol just dulls it.”

“Sounds like you like being in control,” you said.

He scoffed. “It might seem like that. But in reality–I’m giving up all control…to them.”

Your eyes blinked furiously. “Or–in this case, I’d give up control to you,” he corrects himself. “Make sense?”

“Y-yes,” you say breathlessly.

He stared at you a minute then nodded before he switched tact. “Now, I’d like to ask you something. I think that’s only fair, right?”

“Of course,” you agreed.

He tilted his head to one side and eyes narrowing slightly. His gaze boring holes through your soul. “Would you like me to seduce you now?”

As soon as he finishes his sentence, the timer runs out on the jets and they automatically shut off. You could practically hear a pin drop, save for your breaths echoing against the marble walls.

More bubbles have dissipated in the space between you two. If either of you had craned your necks further up, you would see all of each other.

You moistened your dry lips before responding. “I think that’s a bit of a foregone conclusion at this point, don’t you think?”

“So if it is, then–what else do I need to say or do to get you to sleep with me? Should I get on my knees and beg?” Just then you felt his fingers reach for your ankle, tracing subtle circles on it.

He bit at his bottom lip. Your gaze was locked to his, unable to look away. At that moment, you realized that you owned him and that he would do anything you wanted him to. And he knew it within himself, too.

A loud knocking at the door breaks the tension. You look away, suddenly remembering that you ordered room service.

“I’ve got it,” you remark coolly, reluctantly pulling your ankle away from him and bracing yourself to stand.

Before he could say a word, you stood up from the tub. He watched the water cascade down your body. He might have been in shock but you paid no attention to it.

As you begin to step out, he holds out a hand wordlessly to help you balance your weight so you don’t slip.

“Thanks,” you mouth at him. You take your robe from the hook on the wall. His eyes carefully watched as you slipped it on, pulling the sash tightly to close it. Maybe it was just you but you could have sworn that he had the slightest look of disappointment after you had done that.

You instructed the server to leave the cart, tipped them, and sent them on their way. You lifted one of the domed covers and picked up a fry and nibbled on it. There were slices of cake and some chocolate-covered strawberries in there as well.

While you assess each snack that you ordered, you see him emerge from the bathroom out of the corner of your eye. He had a towel wrapped around his waist which made the sizeable bulge that he had underneath it more inviting.

In those few brief minutes that you stepped away, the tension built up in seconds–and it felt much thicker than it did back in the bathroom.

Your eyes lifted as he sauntered towards you. “Hungry?” You ask him nonchalantly as you eyed one of the cakes.

“Not for food,” he says plainly as he closes in on you.

Your cheeks heated up, desire roiled from beneath your belly, pooling between your thighs. You had to commend yourself for all of the control you’ve managed to maintain, instead of just mindlessly throwing yourself at him.

He stops right next to you, you could see in his eyes that he was doing his best to hold himself back as well.

Your eyes shifted at the slice of chocolate cake drizzled with some red, berry reduction on top and around the plate. “You like chocolate?”

“If it was smeared all over your body, yes.” There was a dangerous purr to his voice that sent a shiver through you. You caught a whiff of something that made your mouth water and the apex of your thighs ache. Cologne? Toothpaste? Sweat? Whatever it was–it smelled fucking good.

He closed in further, moving slightly behind you. You dipped your finger at the frosting, capturing a dollop.

“You know I’m fully aware that you’re still naked underneath, right?”

“Yes,” you say simply as you turn your head to him, bringing your finger up to your mouth and licking it.

He narrowed his eyes at you, letting out a soft growl at your teasing.

“Oh, did you want some?” You stuck your finger into the frosting again and held it out to him. His hand curls around your wrist as he brings your hand close to his mouth, licking and sucking on your finger.

Guess two can play that game.

Once he releases it, he pushes your hand back to you.

“Do you want some more?” You ask him evenly despite the fact that your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest.

“You know what I want.” His voice was deeper, rougher. Lowering his head, Jungkook dragged his lips into the crook of your neck, tracing the throbbing vein in your throat.

“I know you want it, too,” he breathes into your ear. You melted into him, your body going lax as he pulled you close.

He lifted his head, regarding you intently. You returned his gaze–his eyes were overly bright yet pitch black at the same time. Being so close, the raw masculinity he exuded made your pulse erratic.

His last thread of control snaps. “Please,” he purred. “Just put me out of my misery.” He sounded needy–at this point, he didn’t give a shit if you made him get on his knees just so he could get a taste.

His words alone were enough to summon pornographic images you neither approved of nor realized existed within you–images of you bent over the table, pressed up against a wall or on your knees.

Before he could get another word in, you seal your lips over his to shut him up with a lush kiss. Your hands went to his hair, sliding through it, tugging. You arched your back when he tightened his arms around you.

Just as he had the night before, he had you on your back on the bed before you realized he was moving you. The robe gave way to his deft fingers, then he was cupping your breasts, kneading them with soft, rhythmic squeezes.

“Jungkook–”

He sucked on your lower lip, his fingers rolling and tugging your tender nipples.

“Oh my goood…” His mouth surrounded the tip of your breast, the wash of heat making you break into a sweat.

“I want to make you feel good. Tell me what you like,” he breathes out.

“You’re doing just that,” you whine.

He chuckles softly before darting the tip of his tongue at a hardened bud, making you squirm.

“Come on…tell me. I want to know,” he insists.

You’ve never been very vocal about what you wanted your partner to do to get you off. Whatever felt good, you guessed–as long as you reached an orgasm. But Jungkook was giving you the chance to tell him what you wanted and how you wanted it done.

“I want you…to eat me out,” you cringed as the words escaped your lips.

“Okay,” he smiled while he hovered above you. “How do you like it?”

You looked at him like an idiot. But you thought about how you got yourself off–guaranteed to make you see stars once your orgasm ripped through you.

“Licking, sucking–some fingers,” you reply.

“Alright then,” was all he said before he slid down

One of his hands pushed between your legs. They fell open shamelessly, your body so aroused you were almost feverish. His other hand continued to knead your breasts, making them unbearably sensitive.

“You’re so wet for me,” he murmured, his gaze sliding down your body to where he was parting you with his fingers.

He slid one finger carefully into you. Your eyes closed against the unbearable vulnerability of being spread out naked for him.

“You’re so tight.” He pulled out and thrust gently back into you. Your back bowed as you clenched around him. “So greedy.” He dipped his head lower and started to tease your clit with the tip of his tongue.

You gasped audibly. “Sorry…it’s…it’s been a while,” you said embarrassingly.

“What did I say about saying ‘sorry?’” He pulled out and pushed back into you with two fingers, his lips sucking on the swollen bud. You couldn’t hold back a low, breathy moan. The man was exceptionally good with his hands and his tongue.

“Is that good? You like that?”

“Fuck, Jungkook…yes.” You were panting for him, your hips circling shamelessly onto his thrusting fingers, to which he had added a third one while his mouth wrapped around your pussy, humming into it. You felt as if you’d spontaneously combust if he didn’t get you off.

“I want to feel you,” you whined. “Please…”

“I know I said I wanted you to tell me what you want but…now, I just really want to make you cum now, just like this.” You’d never been so turned on in your life. You were near mindless, writhing with the need for an orgasm. Your nails dug deeply into his shoulder blades while your thighs tensed.

He was breathing hard, too. His face was flushed with lust…for you. And to think that you’d practically done nothing more than respond helplessly to him.

“I-I’m close.” You didn’t recognize your own voice as your walls rippled around his stroking fingers and fluttering tongue, his words pushing you to the brink.

“I’ve got you.” The pad of his thumb swiped and rubbed your clit in gentle, rhythmic circles. “I want to see your eyes when you cum for me.”

Everything tightened within you, the tension building as he massaged your clit and pushed his fingers in and out at a steady pace.

You climaxed with a throaty cry. You struggled to keep your eyes open while your face screwed up in pure arousal. The whites of your knuckles were evident as you gripped the sheets, your hips pumping onto his hand shamelessly, prolonging your orgasm.

Your ears rang as pleasure pulsed through you. You thought you heard him speak, but you lost the words when he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder and covered your slick heat with his mouth once more.

“Wait—” you pushed at his head with your hands. You were too sensitive. But when his tongue licked your clit, fluttering over it, the hunger built again. More intense than the first time. He rimmed your opening, teasing, taunting with the promise of another orgasm.

He licked between your folds, dragging his tongue against your sensitive flesh. Your hands fisted at his hair, chest heaving as teased your clit with the tip of his tongue. You keened, hips moving restlessly into his relentless mouth, muscles tightening once more.

He finished with a tenderness that made your second orgasm roll through you like a crashing wave, swelling and washing over you in a rush of pleasure.

While you were in a post-orgasmic haze, he rose. You hear a distant sound of a foil packet ripping. When you come to, he threads his fingers with yours, stretching them above your head.

The tip of his cock aligned with the slick entrance of your body and as he pushed deliciously into you. You moaned, shifting to accommodate him while he settled between your thighs.

His breath was humid against your throat, his frame trembled slightly as he withdrew himself carefully then thrusting once more inside you.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, pushing him deeper, feeling his ass flex and release against your calves as your body took him to the hilt.

With your hands linked, he took your mouth and began to move, gliding in and out. You felt every hard inch of him. He drove the message home repeatedly until you were gasping against his mouth, thrashing beneath him, your hands almost suffering from the loss of circulation by how hard you gripped him.

“You’re so beautiful…so perfect, so good…” He groaned.

“Please, don’t stop,” you gasped as another climax built up within you.

“I don’t think I can. Want you…too much,” he says.

You came with a sharp, trembling cry, and he was right there with you. His pace quickened for several deep thrusts, then came…grunting your name while he spilled into you.

You sank into the mattress, sweaty and completely spent. You roll to your side briefly before gathering the strength to sit up. As you blink away the stars in your eyes, you find him dipping into the bed next to you once more.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He cocked an eyebrow at you.

“I was…going to get cleaned up,” you replied.

With a glint in his eye, he chuckled mischievously. “You didn’t think we were done, did you?” He whispers, after he discarded the used condom, pulling out a fresh one.

Biting your lip, he pushes his body onto you, sealing his mouth to yours–as if he could eat you alive.

At some point in between, you ate the food that you ordered as both of you were famished. But the break didn’t last long when you finally got to the chocolate cake. He ate some of it off you, you ate some of it off him.

You don’t remember how many more times he made you cum or where. On the bed, on the couch, the table, once more in the shower.

Each and every time, he was relentless and you were all too happy to take it. Under normal circumstances, you’d be completely exhausted and insist on sleeping.

But who needed sleep when you could spend your waking hours enjoying the company of this pleasure-god all night long?

It was daylight by the time you finally decided that both your needs were sated. You tossed the pillows that you had propped up between you a couple nights before and fell asleep, bodies still entangled. He spooned you from behind, placing feather-soft kisses on your neck and shoulders.

Seconds before you drift off, you could have sworn that you heard him mumble in your ear…something about wanting to take care of you. Subconsciously, you wished that you hadn’t been so tired. All you could do was hum in response before you closed your eyes.

◤Previous | Part 7◥ | Main Fic Masterlist

Thank you for reading!

If you loved it and/or curious to learn more, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn't like it so much, I would still like to hear about it 💜

Taglist:

@internetjunkdrawer @deepseavibez @itdoesntmatterwhy @taleasnewastime @jkkkkkay @bruisedscrewedandtattooed @artsxpe @shadowydreamerblizzard @yoontaethings @amylouisecullen @serendididy @mwitsmejk @hehurst23 @coffeemightkillme @mschievous247 @hoseoksluv89 @syviiss @fullmindlady @gaea23 @taekimtaekimtaekim89 @simpxxstan @moonchild1 @highly-functioning-mitochondria @aznstoner @kmpac @clementineangels @drmrastraea @foreverinmydreams @koosquirt @petalsofink @lpgirl2324 @dragons-flare @its11-11mylove @jub-jub @here4btsfics @tom-hollands-hoe @homehobi @craving4suga @oceanjoon @diaryofangie19 @ayoo-bangtan @darkhoneybrowneyes @overthiinkingg @miksancheese @aggyprinter @jungkooksmytype @meesheru @rkchmestizangmaldita

614 notes · View notes

orime-stories · 29 days

Text

An Unsatisfying Farewell

The Warrior of Light and Aymeric share some last moments together before the Scions leave for Azys Lla. Full story below the cut. (831 words) Previous Story / Next Story / Read on AO3 / Tumblr Masterlist

“We are at the Congregation,” Aurelle said, confirming the presence of the boundary between them.

“We are at the Congregation,” Aymeric confirmed. “’Tis a private enough space, and we would have warning enough were someone to approach. But I cannot have you leaving this room looking dishevelled. And nor would my knights fail to notice such delightful sources of gossip as kiss-swollen lips or flushed cheeks.” His eyes travelled regretfully across the highlighted areas as he spoke. “So we must master ourselves. In the knowledge that we shall have time again together soon enough. Time to spend as we please.”

She did her best to swallow her disappointment with grace. “I’m going to spend the evening at Fortemps Manor. Count Edmont… he needs company right now.”

“I understand. And surely there is no company finer than yours.”

“So we’ll have to wait, until I get back,” she pressed, eyes firmly on his, making sure he truly understood the cost of this restraint.

He swallowed, his hands curling into fists on the desk before him and then retreating to his lap.

“I shall be eagerly awaiting your return. You have already accomplished so much. You will accomplish this too. And you will return home safely.”

A wry smile flitted across her face. “Well I’ll try my—”

“You will return,” he then insisted, in a commanding voice that surely the Fury herself would struggle to deny.

And Aurelle could only nod, doing what she could to wield even a fragment of his faith as her own.

“And so there is nothing to begrudge about our current state of affairs,” he continued. “We master ourselves today, that we might better enjoy our reunion on the morrow.”

He stood then, and walked her to the door. Where they stood a moment longer, just surveying each other’s faces.

How easy it would be to close the gap, to feel his lips on hers one last time. How absurd to deny the impulse.

“Come back to me,” he said softly. Allowing a little of his sentiment to leak through at the last.

Sorrow shuddered through her then, railing against the unfairness of their parting and of this self-imposed barrier between them. Until she found herself closing her eyes in the way he always did, taking a deep breath.

Mastering herself.

And when she opened them once more, her voice was steady as she answered him.

“I will.”

—

Aymeric watched as Ishgard’s best hopes assembled themselves on Master Garlond’s airship. The tired trio of engineers making their last pre-flight checks, the Scion Y’shtola observing the newly mounted device that had been built to her master’s specifications. And then young Master Alphinaud, in conversation with the two that would be taking his heart with them into battle. Estinien, his oldest and dearest friend. And Aurelle.

He did not yet have a satisfactory word for what she had become to him. Did not yet know what words he had the right to. What words she would welcome. For all the moments they had managed to snatch together in recent moons, precious few of them had been spent defining the shape and boundary of what they now shared. And far, far too few of them had been spent making sure she knew just how dear she had become to him.

It was easier to hold himself back from her now, in public and in full view of the many admirers and supporters that had come to see her off. But those last moments they had shared alone in his office had been downright torturous. Desperately trying to find a way to justify a careful kiss to her hand, a brush of his fingers across her cheek. Something, anything to hold close and remember should the worst come to pass.

But if he started touching her he feared he would never stop. Would need to know every ilm of her before letting her go — to commit it all to memory, just in case. But he had to operate on the assumption that there was a morrow to safeguard. A morrow to keep free of scandal and rumour, that they might be able to continue enjoying each other’s company on their own terms.

Whatever words they might then choose.

She would come back. She always came back. She had slain Nidhogg — his people’s bane for a thousand long years. Whatever his father had done. Whatever horrors he might summon. It would prove to be no match for his… for her.

“Return to us. All of you,” he commanded in parting as the ship gathered itself for flight. Eyes making deliberate contact with each person standing on the deck, equal weighting intentionally given to all. One of Aurelle’s hands dipping into her pocket as he met hers, seeking comfort from whatever it was she was keeping there. He hoped that it was something meaningful, something that might being her peace and safety when she needed it most.

With everything that he was, he hoped.

#final fantasy xiv #heavensward #aymeric de borel #oc: aurelle silmontier #aymeric x wol #shippy stuff #orime's stories

10 notes · View notes

pleaseinsertwittyurl · 3 months

Text

Falling Up (Good Omens)

I plan to post on AO3 as soon as I can but here's a little tidbit to get some feedback/interest! We will be skipping around in time and seeing things progress from both sides until they eventually merge! Hope you all enjoy <3

***

---------------------------One Week Earlier--------------------------------

Crowley’s plants had given up. Their master hadn’t misted them in months, and it had been even longer since he’d yelled at them. They had taken care of each other as best they could but one cannot pour from an empty cup. So they withered. They drooped. Their leaves grew tattered with holes. Soon they would curl in on themselves, the last traces of water dried from their soil, and die. They mourned for each other. They longed for the scornful shouts of their master, to terrify them into thriving. But their master had not moved from his spot, and showed no signs that he would any time soon.

For Crowley had been laid, outstretched on the floor, totally still since…

He did not cry, nor shout, nor curse, nor pray. He just stared, longingly, through his ceiling. His copy of “Love of my Life” had long since worn out, but it still spun endlessly on its perch. His apartment had gathered a thick layer of dust, draping across every inch like a blanket of sorrow. Even he was covered, practically a derelict piece of the furniture.

He had tried to carry on as usual after Aziraphale ran off to be Heaven’s new fancy pants Supreme whatever. But everything usual about his life left with the Angel. The bookshop was unbearable without him. Muriel, sweet as they were, understood little of Crowley’s attempts at conversation. Driving the Bentley 100 miles per hour lacked appeal without his Angel there to beg him to slow down. Tempting humans was pointless, they did whatever they wanted to at this point. Not like he took orders from Hell anymore anyway. It only took 10 days before he had laid down. 10 Days before the tiny, shriveled up fragment of hope within him died. He never intended to not get back up, it had just sort of worked out that way.

Maybe he hoped someone would burst through the door and tell him to get up, or that Hell would come seeking revenge for his betrayal, or that the world would just end around him. But no one came. The world went on spinning. The Demon was alone. As well he probably should be. Companionship was not intended for the damned. He’d been foolish to let himself think otherwise. Optimistic and foolish. He was cured of the notion now and had resigned himself to an eternity of boredom. Of solitude.

Until one day, a random afternoon in a sea of empty hours, he felt…something. Like the phenomena humans often describe that they can feel someone was watching them. It was eerie. Usually eerie feelings delighted the Demon, but this was different. The presence felt…powerful. It felt like a concentrated beam of unfiltered sunlight was shining straight down on him. Yet there was nothing there. No light, no Angel, no Demon. Just Crowley, lying pitifully on the floor, with the uneasy feeling that he was being monitored. It didn’t waver. It felt as if it may tear a hole right through his torso. It was really rather uncomfortable.

So for the first time in who knows how long, Crowley stirred. Just a wriggle at first. Testing the response of whatever was or wasn’t there. No change. He sat up and a cloud of dust scattered around him. Still the feeling was the same. Finally he stood to his feet rather awkwardly and on shaky, unused legs. He began to brush the thick coat of dust from himself before reasoning it better to just replace the whole get up. He swept his hands down his slender frame and beneath them, his outfit was suddenly good as new. Well, it was new actually, just looked exactly the same.

The presence changed infinitesimally. He couldn’t place his finger on what exactly was different about it, there had just been the tiniest of shifts.

“Right well, I don’t know who this is, or what you want but you had better bugger off! I’m in no mood to be roped into any celestial drama. Leave. me. alone.” He called out into his empty apartment, halfheartedly. Still there. Still watching.

“I mean it! I want no part with any plans from Heaven or Hell or any other mysterious entities floating around up there so stop watching me! I’m not up to any bad or good! I’m not bothering anything! For once, can’t you just let me be?” There was a hint of desperation in his voice. It was true, he wasn’t causing any sort of trouble for either side, he wasn’t doing anything at all. He was barely even existing. Was it so hard to just let him wallow in peace? But the presence didn’t seem to hear, or if it did, it didn’t seem to care. It was steady as a stream, pushing an unfamiliar energy into every inch of his apartment.

“AAAHHHH FINE THEN! YOU WIN! SHOW YOURSELF! STATE YOUR BUSINESS!”

……

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE DO SOMETHING!”

……

“Right. Mysterious ways I s’pose.” He murmured to himself. Crowley looked around in every direction, but the only thing out of place was him. He’d left a patch of clean floor in his wake. Shit…that was quite the sulk then, wasn’t it? he thought, realizing for the first time that perhaps he was being a tad overly dramatic.

“Whatever. Do what you want. Doesn’t matter anymore anyways.” He called out to nobody in particular. “I’m outta here.” And with that, he flung his darkened glasses across his eyes, and stormed from his apartment in a huff. The presence didn’t follow. Crowley was pleasantly surprised at this.

He reached the Bentley, cranked it up, and sped off, without really thinking of where he would go. “The Show Must Go On” was blasting through the speakers. He started to sing along.

***

That's all for now! I can post more if there's desire for it while I'm in AO3 purgatory! Thanks for reading!

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #ineffable idiots #ineffable divorce #good omens fanfiction #good omens fic #good omens headcanons #good omens s3 #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #please let me know if other tw should be added

7 notes · View notes

that-fanperson-meg · 6 months

Text

Soul Bound

this is based off of a conversation I had with @aesthetically-meme and it somehow transformed into this lol

I hope you enjoy! :D

The day had been relatively normal all things considered.

Dusk had suffered through a day of training that left their entire body sore, and after an uneventful lunch, they’d returned to their bunk to rest off the dull ache in their wings. With a groan, the astral flopped down on their bed hoping to nap until dinner. Though their mind didn’t let that happen, instead Dusk had been caught up in a fragment of gossip that the knight had heard while passing a group of Star Warriors in the hallway.

They didn’t hear all of the details, but the astral got the gist.

Something was happening on a planet called Popstar. Something which might’ve involved the Star Rod- thought it wasn’t exactly clear.

“Y’hear ‘bout that Twi? Who even names a planet somethin’ like that?” Dusk Knight asked, before realizing they had been talking to an empty room.

Twilight Knight had been gone for….awhile now.

The room had all but lost that feeling of home when they’d left, leaving in its place the memory of a sibling half way across the universe. Every now and then, Dusk would find themself talking to Twilight even though he wasn’t there, expecting an answer every time for a split second.

However that wasn’t all true, Dusk still had their roommate with them in a way.

It’d happened without them even realizing it, but one day Dusk had found that they’d soul bound themself to Twilight, forever feeling like the knight was right beside them.

“Wonder what Twi’s doin’ anyway?” They asked aloud without meaning to.

With that thought in place, Dusk chuckled to themself before sitting up on their bunk, and quietly focusing on that magical thread that kept the two knights together.

However upon finding that feeling, did Dusk realize something was…off.

Though before they could work out exactly what was so strange, Dusk was struck with the feeling of a power that was not Twilight Knight’s.

There was something ancient about it, unsettling about it, unfathomable about it.

But after the surge of power, came the pain.

Dusk could feel as claws of what they could only assume was a Nightmare creation tear across their sibling’s body, a feeling which they could only feel a fraction of.

Then there was another, and another, and many more after that. Though Dusk knew that Twilight was fighting whatever was going on, he was alive. It continued on for what felt like an eternity, but the astral was thankful for each moment that they could feel the thread between the two was there.

Though suddenly, Dusk could feel as the power that they’d felt…leave.

It seemed as though the universe had stopped for a moment when the knight found that they couldn’t feel their bond with Twilight.

Immediately, Dusk tuned everything else out, desperately trying to find the feeling of their brother’s soul still tied with their own.

They prayed, they hoped, they pleaded to any god that they thought might listen, that the worst hadn’t happened and Twilight was still in this world with them.

When suddenly they found it again, the feeling was faint, weak, and one the edge of slipping into the realm of the butterflies.

But it was there, and it was real.

Dusk sighed in relief, and began trying to steady their breathing coming down from a near panic attack.

But from outside the door, the knight could hear the sound of thunderous footsteps bolting down the hallway screaming a message as the unknown knight went.

“NIGHTMARE’S DEAD! WE KILLED HIM- THE WAR’S OVER!”

Tiredness finally claiming the rest of their mind, Dusk had one thought running through their head, “wow. Twi really did it, huh?”

Dusk Knight by @/aesthetically-meme

#twilight knight oc #kirby oc

6 notes · View notes

counsellorerestor · 2 days

Text

Bitter Work

Continued from Answers Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 for @glorfindel-of-rivendell .

Just as Erestor is normally slow to fall asleep, he is often slow to rise.

Today, however, his eyes flutter once as the sunlight grows too much to bear, and then he jerks awake. His hand darts across the mattress, searching, and then clenches into a fist against the still-warm hollow next to him.

As if Glorfindel of Gondolin would be forsworn, even if it meant his own joy.

Erestor picks up the small pitcher of water on the bedside table and hurls it at the far wall. It shatters satisfyingly, leaving a mess of clay fragments and water. That can wait for tonight, he thinks, flinging the sheets back viciously. He winces as he moves to sit up, lower body twinging in a way that will remind him all day of the choices he had made last night.

He raises a hand to the opposite shoulder, fingers feeling across the skin until they encounter a tender spot that makes him hiss. He presses his fingers into it for a moment anyway, relishing the sharp sting. It is a further reminder that regardless of their greater duties and the way they have chosen to move forward, last night Glorfindel had indisputably claimed him for his own.

In the bathroom he stares at the bruise on his shoulder for a long moment, admiring how vivid it already is, and at the other marks littering his body. Then he takes a deep breath, and another, and forces himself to get ready for the day.

Freshly showered, he stands before his wardrobe and violently shoves away all thoughts of how, just yesterday morning, he had been standing here thinking of how best to dress for Glorfindel. Instead, he focuses on his plans for the day and selects a fitted tunic of imported Haradrim brocade, of a deep ruby-red colour woven with gold patterns; it is a little brighter than he would normally choose, but he is dressing for diplomacy today. Over this he wears an open sleeveless robe of black velvet.

He braids his hair back in his usual manner and places his circlet on his brow, determinedly not thinking of the crown of bluebells lying abandoned in the sitting room.

As Arien climbs higher and golden light spills over the floor, Erestor pads over to the small desk in the corner of the sitting room, carefully avoiding looking at the table and the tea things still there - that can be something else to deal with tonight. Instead he pens an elegant missive to the Haradrim contingent, inviting them to a light luncheon on the western library terrace and placing his official seal on it.

With little appetite, he elects to skip breakfast. Instead he makes his way across the House to drop the missive off at their rooms, and then to the kitchens, where he offers praise for last night and directions for the day's various small lunch meetings - Elrond is hosting Nilûbên and the Númenorean contingent for lunch, which he had hoped to attend before conversing with Haroun, and the various Guild Heads are also meeting for lunch.

That done, he goes to Elrond's rooms, catching the Peredhel just as he is leaving for breakfast.

"Elrond," he calls, and ignores the way Elrond blanches at the sight of him. "I have arranged for a meeting with Haroun; he has important tidings, I fear, and I do not think it can wait. I shall see him for lunch and inform you of any news afterwards."

Elrond comes towards him and clasps his shoulders. "Forget all that - what has happened?"

Perhaps others would not be able to so easily tell anything is wrong, but Elrond knows him better than anyone. For one long moment Erestor allows himself to sag forward and take the shorter Elf in his arms, breathing in his familiar scent.

"Erestor," Elrond murmurs. "Tell me."

Erestor shakes his head, already straightening.

"Is it Glorfindel?" Elrond looks aghast.

"No! At least, not in whatever way you are imagining. It is... complicated, Elrond. But he has not wronged me. We have been honest with each other and we have chosen to move on."

Elrond frowns at him. "Your words say one thing and your face tells me a different tale."

"Elrond, please. I will tell you everything when I feel able. For now, let me work."

The shorter Elf frowns at Erestor, but nods.

"When you see Glorfindel, tell him to come to the western library terrace for the lunch with Haroun; this concerns him too."

"And you cannot tell him yourself?" Elrond questions delicately.

"Just tell him, Elrond, please."

Elrond nods, clearly displeased but accepting the answer.

"I will see you at dinner. Give my respects to the Númenorean group." Erestor stalks off to his office, heedless of Elrond's concerned gaze boring into his back.

#RP #closed RP #RP: spring festival #RP: bitter work #Glorestor #Elrond

2 notes · View notes

haradasaya · 2 years

Text

Fragment Friday

Omg so I’ve been mulling over this all day because it was such a privilege to be tagged my my idol @romirola to post my Fragment Friday! So here’s what I’m contributing, but it’s definitely just a rough draft! Thank you again Romi for this opportunity and I hope y’all enjoy!

_____________________________________

It wasn’t like David wasn’t the most attractive man in the room at any given time. Angel eyed the two alpha wolves conversing quietly from across the room, staring harder than they meant to. They had recognized the look that the other man was giving David a mile away, it was the same way they’d looked at him when they’d met. It was all smirks and flirting, even if they were probably just talking about pack stuff. It probably shouldn’t have bothered them as much as it did, but when you see someone use your own tactics on your man, it’s hard to miss. He was looking at David in the way only Angel was allowed to look at David. Their blood warmed.

Babe nudges their arm. “Hello, earth to Angel.”

Their gaze snaps around to their fellow wolf mate. “What? Sorry.”

Babe only laughs. “I said, What are you staring at?”

Angel steals another quick glance at David. Nothing had changed in those few seconds, but looking away brought on the thought that David might make an escape, or worse, that he’d leave with that other guy. “Nothing. Just watching.”

It wasn’t hard for Babe to recognize what was going on. “What? David and Cade?”

Angel nods, still not looking at them. “What do you think they’re talking about? It's been like five whole minutes.”

Babe laughs, nudging their arm to get Angel to look at them. “I don’t know, probably boring alpha stuff. Stuff we humans wouldn’t understand.”

Angel is grateful for their attempt to lighten the mood. As the only two human mates in the pack, the two of them stuck together often, which helped when their mates were the top two in command. It meant they hung out often when David and Asher had official Pack meetings or other organized events, which eventually led to the joke about them not understanding everything about the magical world and from them on it was their inside joke when things got confusing. This time though, it went beyond that, though they’d never admit that to Babe.

“I don’t know. It’s just weird, that’s all.”

As much as they appreciated their support, they knew Babe knew it didn’t really help. So instead, they called Asher over and whispered something in his ear that they didn’t hear. This event was meant to be a fun way to celebrate distant family, or so David had told them. He, as well as many in the pack, had family that lived in another pack up the coast of California. Though the size of the Shaw pack heavily outnumbered that of this visiting pack, their attitude about being here made them seem as if this was their land, their territory. Something about it seemed off, though Angel didn’t know what. David had said that it was just wolf culture when invited to other territories and that Angel didn’t need to worry.

Of course, Angel still worried.

And then Cade put his arm on David’s bicep. Angel’s eyes widened. Was he into it? Then he flexed for the guy! The act caught Angel completely by surprise, their mouth literally dropping open in reaction. Asher immediately nudged them in the arm.

“What’s going on over there?”

Angel didn’t look away, staring directly at where Cade’s hand met David’s bicep. “I don’t know, but I don’t like it.”

They stood quickly, calling out to David from across the room. Many of the room’s patrons stopped what they were doing to stare, and Angel immediately flushed from the action. David turned right around to look at them. Upon seeing them so flushed, he quickly excused himself from the conversation, and began making his way over to Angel. They should have been looking at their mate approaching, watching him come to them and let themselves feel relieved that he was there for them. But their eyes lingered on Cade, on the expression he made as he watched David walk towards them. His face had a bit of a pout, as if he was disappointed. But then his eyes fell lower, and immediately Angel knew what he was staring at.

And then he smirked.

______________________________

I’ll post the rest on Ao3 when it’s done!

#fragment Friday #redacted asmr #redacted david #redacted angel #redacted babe #redacted Asher #redacted Shaw pack #i love them #wip

104 notes · View notes

val-athenar · 1 year

Text

( @slayersweek ) Hi @bitter-byte! Sorry I’m on the later side. I’m your Secret Santa this time. Enjoy! (I’m a Tumblr noob so I hope I don’t mess up the formatting of this post whaha)

Title: A cherished fragment of a vanished past

Fandom: Slayers

Pairing: Amelia/Zelgadis

Rating: T

Prompt: (Idea from a discord conversation:) Lina and Gourry cop out and don’t remember what happened at the end of Next (the liars), but what do Amelia and Zelgadis remember? Does she remember dying in his arms?

A cherished fragment of a vanished past

Amelia sat at her vanity, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Just this morning she had returned from a two-month diplomatic mission to several kingdoms, and without even greeting her father, she had retreated into her personal quarters to freshen up and get ready. Tonight would be the start of the Four Dragons festival, the annual event in honor of the Fire Dragon King, Water Dragon King, Earth Dragon King and Air Dragon King. Seyruun would be crowded with people from all across the world. And she wondered… She hoped…

And she snapped out of her thoughts. “First things first,” she said to her reflection and picked up her hairbrush. Amelia had been preparing for the festival during her trip. She’d bought a new tiara in Zoana, where she met with the queen and king. Martina, Zangulas, and their entire litter. Once, she’d been kidnapped by Martina, but that was in in the past and while the queen still had her… loudness, she at least followed the righteous road of justice.

Amelia had bought her shoes in Atlas city. Being back in those streets brought a smile to her face, yet also made her eyes prick. Atlas was where it all began. Where she met Lina and Gourry.

And then she got her dress in Sairaag. A blue one, not too flashy, but pretty enough to show her stature. Sairaag is where she had met Zelgadis. The city looked very different since it was rebuilt, but the ghosts of the past still haunted the streets. The house that was now a dressmaker used to be a restaurant. She’d been there with her friends, but she could never revisit the restaurant. She wondered what Zelgadis would think of the dress.

She hoped that she would see him again. She wondered if he remembered, too, what happened when they were in Sairaag the last time. The memory was her personal ghost of Sairaag. A cherished fragment of a vanished past.

---

A drumbeat marked the start of the festivities, and Amelia raywinged out of her window as the sun sank over the horizon. Not only would walking through the palace take forever, she also didn’t want to run into Duke Such and Duchess So. She would perform her duties later. Besides, lately there has been an increase in princes and noblemen in Seyruun trying to court her. For now, she was just Amelia. Warriors of justice needed nights off as well!

From up here, Amelia had a great view of the marketplace. The Sorcerer’s Guild organized a magic show, featuring the elements in honor of the dragon aspects of Ceifeed. Amelia landed on a peaked roof and watched.

The drums turned faster—louder. They beckoned everyone to the marketplace. Sanddancers from Almekia leaped in circles around a bonfire, some of the sand staying magically suspended in the air. Whilst magnificent, Amelia’s gaze turned to the darkness. The outer ring of the gathering crowd. So many faces—but she only observed the people that obscured theirs. Hoods and masks. She squeezed the sides of her dress, just to keep her hands steady. She needed to stay optimistic. Think of wonderful things.

Then, between two food stands, she saw a familiar figure. She jumped off the roof, only startling the foreign visitors in the process of nearly crashlanding, and she dashed to the other side of the marketplace before the guards would spot her. They’d be honorbound to protect their princess, but she would manage just fine.

The woman and the kid didn’t see Amelia coming.

“Miss Filia! Val!” Amelia said and waved. Filia looked over her shoulder, holding a napkin with a grease stain she just wiped from Val’s face. He must be about five or six now. “It’s been such a long time.” One year to be exact, since Filia took it upon herself to properly educate people of Seyruun on the Fire Dragon King during the Four Dragons festival.

Filia beamed. “Amelia! It’s so good to see you. I heard you live a very busy life. Shall we watch the show together?”

Amelia smiled awkwardly and held her hands up. “Thank you, maybe tomorrow. Have you seen anyone from our old friends?”

Filia folded the napkin and put it into her skirt pocket. “I saw Miss Lina and Gourry a few months ago, actually, wreaking havoc in Alto’s restaurants. They mentioned they were heading to the far south in search of some artefact.”

“That sounds like Miss Lina alright.” Before Amelia left for her diplomatic mission, she hired twelve extra cooks in case Lina and Gourry would attend the festival. Amelia made a mental note to donate the abundance of leftovers to orphanages the day after Four Dragons. “How about…” Amelia began, her voice trailing off as she searched the crowd for any sign of him. But she didn't have to finish her sentence. Filia's smile had turned somber, her eyes filled with sympathy.

"I’m sorry. I haven't seen or heard anything about Zelgadis," Filia said, her voice soft.

Amelia's heart sank, her stomach churning with a mix of emotions. She had hoped to see him here, to finally talk to him after all this time. "I see," Amelia said, her voice barely above a whisper. She forced a smile, trying to hide the disappointment and hurt that was creeping up on her. "Well, I have to go. I have duties to attend to." She turned to leave, but Filia reached out and touched her arm.

"Amelia, wait. Are you okay?"

Amelia shook her head, her eyes misting over. "I'm fine, really. I just have a lot on my mind." She pulled away from Filia's touch, not wanting to break down in front of her old friend. "I'll see you tomorrow." And with that, she walked away, her heart heavy and her mind a jumbled mess of thoughts and feelings.

Of course he wasn’t here. He wasn’t here last year, or the year before. Zelgadis hated crowds—hated to be stared at, and the Four Dragons Festival brought in people from all over the kingdom. Amelia couldn't blame him, not after everything he had been through. But she couldn't help but wonder if he was avoiding her too.

The drumming was increasing in tempo, building to a climax, but Amelia left that all far behind as she pushed through the crowds towards the palace. On the way, in the circular park connecting two neighborhoods, a minstrel stood on a dais, singing to the families. Some children wore bright-colored dragon costumes in fluffy fabrics, others had paper crowns or held meatballs on a stick.

Amelia didn’t stop to listen, but she caught on the minstrel’s song was about Lina Inverse with a little bit of Gourry by her side. Quite positive too, with no mention of ritual sacrifice or eating monsters for breakfast. Amelia had worked hard on improving Lina’s reputation here in Seyruun—partly because she might be associated with her. But there was no mention of Zelgadis or Amelia in the song—

Her arm was snatched with a fierce grip, spinning her around in a whirlwind of shock and disbelief. The suddenness of the movement sent her heart pounding as she looked into the eyes of the person who had hold of her. She couldn't believe what she was seeing, her mind struggling to process the reality of the situation. There, before her, stood Zelgadis, the lower part of his face indeed covered by a piece of cloth, and a hooded cloak casting a shadow over the rest.

She felt a lump form in her throat, her mind reeling with the weight of all the emotions that threatened to overpower her. She didn't know what to say, or how to react.

“Hey,” he said, and although his voice was muffled, Amelia could have sworn he sounded slightly flustered.

“Mister Zelgadis.” And she felt her face burning—after all this time, she didn’t even know what to say.

They look at each other for a few eternal heartbeats before Zelgadis broke the silence. “As much as I enjoy hearing about how Lina ‘lights up the night’, I’d rather be anywhere else. Would you like to grab a drink together? Or fancy a meal if you haven’t dined already?”

“That would be lovely. Drink—dinner… both. I know a quiet place, close to the city walls.”

He nodded.

Amelia led the way, still mentally adjusting to what just happened. Every step seemed surreal, yet he was there, walking beside her. She breathed in slowly, then out. Something she’d learned to do before a speech to ground herself in the moment. He was here now, and might not be here tomorrow. That’s how it always went.

For the longest time she would try to convince him to accept himself as he is—to finally see that he should live in the now, but the discussion had always driven them apart.

And although she’d put it away initially, a vivid memory accompanied her on the loneliest of days. A memory from when they went to Sairaag to defeat Hellmaster. Lina and Gourry forgot what happened, but Amelia remembered.

Back then, Amelia had felt a strange sensation wash over her, as if her body was slowly shutting down. It was a feeling of finality, of impending doom. Her vision grew hazy, and her thoughts became jumbled and disjointed. She could feel the chill of death creeping over her, wrapping its icy fingers around her heart. Hellmaster, the Claire Bible… none of that mattered anymore in that moment. Not her duties as a princess, or even all the injustices in the world. She remembered how Zelgadis held her in her final moment, the desperation in his eyes. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to tell him what she felt for him, but her body refused to obey her commands.

Those feeling had never gone away—if anything, they had bloomed into more. No prince or lord would look at her like Zelgadis had.

Some nights, she has nightmares about dying again, but death itself didn’t frighten her. She feared he would not be there. That she would be old and have had an entire life without him.

---

Amelia and Zelgadis made their way to a secluded corner in The Boozy Bard. Amelia had been right—being this far away from the festivities, the restaurant was very quiet. There were no travelers, only a few locals at the other side of the dining hall.

Zelgadis removed his cloak and sat down. Amelia took in his features, the details she had almost forgotten. It had been over a year—a year and three months to be exact. That time he’d suddenly visited Seyruun to access a library. He had only stayed for three days.

Amelia fidgeted with the hem of her dress as they waited the banquet, ordered for old times’ sake.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Amelia said, “I saw Miss Filia at the festival with little Val. It sounds like Miss Lina hasn’t changed at all.”

Zelgadis smirked and Amelia could have sworn she saw a twinkle of nostalgia in his eyes. “Lina won’t change. She and Gourry are far too content with their lifestyle.”

“Killing newly-formed gangs of pirates and bandits, treasure hunting, eating, leaving a trail of chaos…” Amelia had to smile too as pictured it. She’d send Lina and Gourry a personal invitation for Four Dragons, but if they were on the other side of the Desert of Destruction, the courier would have never found them. Even rookie couriers could catch the trail of rumors to track Lina Inverse, if she were in the north.

The server brought in the first few plates. She was polite enough not to stare or ask questions, and while Amelia thanked her, Zelgadis kept his eyes on Amelia.

“How have you been, Amelia?”

She forced herself to be cheerful. A warrior of justice. Amelia Wil Tesla Seyruun. “Oh you know, doing my duties. My father is the king since my grandfather’s passing, and now some of his previous responsibilities fall onto me. But I’m happy I can change the world from this position of power.”

“I heard you’ve managed to calm down the tensions between the coastal states.”

“Yes, well—it wouldn’t be just if the people suffered because of the bickering of those above them. I couldn’t let that happen, and intervened by waving my fist of justice into the air and putting them to work on a trade agreement.”

Zelgadis had to laugh.

Amelia pricked her fork in some food and transferred it to her plate, just to be doing something with her hands. She wasn’t hungry at all. He’d heard things about her. Did that mean he asked about news about her during his travels? Or did he stumble upon that piece of information?

She squeezed courage out of her fork. “What else did you hear about me?”

His smile turned into a subtle frown. “I heard you turned down every marriage proposal so far.” The fork fell to the ground.

She couldn’t look at him, but she didn’t move to pick up the fork either. Because her sister wasn’t coming home anytime soon—if ever, members of the court have been raising concerns. Her father would not have it, but the pressure was rising, and apparently, the common folk have been wondering as well. A diplomatic marriage would be one of the best things she could do for the kingdom. It could form a strong alliance or prevent a war, yet this was her only duty she had actively avoided.

“Amelia, I found a lead on how to cure my affliction, a very promising one this time.”

She looked down at the table, but the lines of the wood turned blurry as tears welled up in her eyes. There was no point in holding them back anymore. This is how it always went. “So you’re here to do your research, and in a couple of days you will leave again.”

“I’m here because I needed to speak to you.” He reached over the table and grabbed Amelia’s hand. “I wanted to see you,” he added.

The skin of his fingers was rough against hers. She wanted to savor that feeling, but the memory of his face when he watched her die flashed by. He had looked so defeated. Pained. She had always been so certain she understood what it meant, but maybe it was just something she read into it. Maybe her memory wasn’t that accurate, after all, she died. Maybe her death was the only reason he had realized how important she was to him.

He continued to speak. “So, what I wanted to say to you… what I need you to know is that this lead points to a land further away than I’ve ever been, someplace in the far south. Amelia?”

“Mister Zelgadis,” Amelia started, fully aware he must be able to feel her hand tremble in his, “do you remember when we went to Sairaag to defeat Hellmaster Phibrizzo, when we were there—”

He flinched. “You died.” Amelia wiped the tears from her eyes with her free hand and finally looked at him—and there it was. An expression a prince or nobleman wouldn’t give her. She saw Zelgadis for who he truly was, and he her. “It’s burned into my memory. You died, and there was nothing I could do as your body went limp in my arms. Seeing the life fade from your eyes… I was powerless. For the longest time I tried to forget; the damage was undone, after all.”

It didn’t matter to him she was a princess. He would have felt the same for her if she’d been lowborn. He had no interest to rule. Maybe that was exactly why he couldn’t stay.

“Amelia, following this lead would take months at best, but it could end up costing me years.” And there were no trade routes yet that reached so far into the Outer World. There would be no letters. Only silence. “I wanted to ask you to come with me.”

Time seemed to slow as his question fully registered her. She couldn’t just leave.

Zelgadis leaned in closer, his voice a low whisper. "Amelia, I know this is a lot to ask. But I want you by my side. I need you to be my rock. I cannot do this without you.”

Amelia pulled back her hand to cross her arms and looked away. “Miss Lina and Mister Gourry are heading to the far south, Mister Zelgadis. I don't think I'm needed.”

Zelgadis remained quiet for a while, before saying, “I mean, I came to realize I’m not willing to travel that far without you. Sleep a couple of nights on it, all right? I will not leave without you."

Amelia's heart skipped a beat as she heard the raw emotion in his words. She knew that he was not just asking her to come with him, but to take a leap of faith with him. She knew that this journey would change them both, and that there would be no going back.

Amelia nodded. “All right. I will sleep on it. But I want you to attend the festival with me.” There. She said it.

He smiled and sat back. “All right, I suppose I can do that.”

---

As the King, Phil believed there was plenty of diplomatic opportunity to be found in the far south, and who better to go than Amelia. As a father, Phil believed Amelia should go because she was young, and seemed to be missing something in her life—adventure. As a fellow warrior of justice, Phil knew evil has no borders, and Amelia would be a blessing for humanity wherever she went. So, Amelia stepped into the carriage that would take her and Zelgadis to the coast with a guiltfree heart.

And as they sat, side by side, Amelia glanced at Zelgadis. He looked at the window, to the road ahead—no frown or brooding. He looked content. And she wondered… perhaps this journey wouldn’t be so much about finding a cure. Perhaps he needed to justify dragging her out of her castle. To spend time with her. To live a life with her on the roads.

Amelia’s breathing grew unsteady as she moved her hand slowly, until her pinkie touched the side of Zelgadis’s hand. He didn’t pull back, and instead interlaced his fingers with hers. For the next hour, they didn’t say a word to each other, and they didn’t let go.

This journey would truly be different.

#slayers secret santa 2022 #zelame #the slayers

22 notes · View notes