#to be kinder and more open and maybe someone who seems to be totally different can be more like you than you could have imagined
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I could picture hundreds and hundreds of boys living on the wrong sides of cities, boys with black eyes who jumped at their own shadows. Hundreds of boys who maybe watched sunsets and looked at stars and ached for something better. ~ Ponyboy Curtis, The Outsiders
#the outsiders#quotes#that's where my new name is from#i love it because it not only fits my ships and favorite characters#it also fits my views on so many things#it says to not judge a book by it's cover and it asks to give chances#to be kinder and more open and maybe someone who seems to be totally different can be more like you than you could have imagined#Because we all see the same sunsets and look at the same stars
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Hello, i love your work omg!! I had a request for another Joel angst <3 I had an idea where reader decides to sell Joel's watch in the QZ and gifting him a new one (obv not knowing the meaning behind the watch) Joel gets angry and reader becomes heartbroken and decides to look for the watch and gets rly injured by gangs in the QZ and Joel gets worried/goes after her!
OMG Hi Bestie!
You sent me this forever ago but I'm in love with this ask and then went totally overboard and ANYWAY here's the angstiest ask I've ever had, I hope you love it as much as I love you!!
The Watch
You try to do something kind for Joel but things backfire in a way you never expected.
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader
CW: SMUT! Canon-typical violence. I did almost no proofing on this so... ya know. Basically no age-gap, reader is 3 years younger than Joel. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only
Length: 12.2k (LOOK I'M SORRY OK I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME EITHER.)
March, 2010
Sometimes, you weren’t sure you knew Joel Miller at all.
It was a strange sensation, when you thought about it. You’d known him for almost three years now. You’d first met him and his brother, Tommy, when they moved in a few doors down from you in the Boston QZ. Both handsome, both around your age - Tommy a bit younger, Joel a bit older - both beat down by what the world had become.
But the last thing seemed to apply to everyone in the QZ. Life now was hard. That’s just the way it worked now, as much as you wished that weren’t the case.
You’d managed to land a relatively good job in the grand scheme of things. You were a chef before, you ran part of the kitchen at a ritzy banquet hall in the city. You were used to feeding a crowd and FEDRA definitely had a crowd to feed every day, what with guards and all.
It wasn’t much like it was before. There was very little joy in it, the process reduced to the barest minimum: Feed people so they stay alive. But you liked trying to find ways to make the food good, different from day to day. You still took pride in your work, even as the overly long days threatened to wear you down. You still wanted to try to make people happy with your work.
Which is how you ended up getting to know Joel and Tommy in the first place. You showed up at their door a few days after they moved in with a few plates of food in hand, still hot below the tin foil they were wrapped in.
“Yeah?” Joel said, voice gruff.
“Hi!” You said brightly, not taking his attitude personally. Everyone was gruff here. You were used to it. You introduced yourself before pressing on. “I hadn’t seen you both around the QZ before so I thought you might be new and want a little something while you’re settling in, maybe stretch those ration cards a bit further…”
“What’s in it for you?” Joel cut you off, looking you up and down.
It was like he was finding every flaw you’d ever been afraid you had, his eyes raking over you fiercely.
“Nothing,” you smiled, even though it felt forced. “Just wanted to do something nice!”
“Bullshit.”
“Joel, you scarin’ the neighbors?” Tommy asked, coming alongside his brother and opening the door wider.
“Not at all,” you smiled, a little more genuinely this time.
Tommy introduced himself and Joel, who just grunted at you.
“I brought dinner,” you said, holding the plates out. “Just thought you might want a break after getting here is all.”
“That is real sweet of you,” Tommy smiled, taking the plates. He lifted one to his nose and breathed deep. “Smells real good, too. You a cook or something?”
“Or something,” you smiled. “I used to be a chef but now I just cook for FEDRA. This is better than that, though. Anyway, I hope you like it and welcome to Boston!”
“Thank you,” Tommy smiled broader. “Hope to see you around!”
You started coming back to see Tommy. He was kinder, he seemed like he was happy to see you. Which you appreciated. You didn’t have many people in the QZ, it was nice to have someone who felt like a friend who lived so close.
You’d come by twice more and chatted with Tommy for a bit the next time you saw Joel at all. You knocked on their door with a loaf of bread in hand and Joel opened it, frowning at you.
“He ain’t here,” he said before you had a chance to say anything.
“Oh,” you tried not to look disappointed. It seemed like that would be rude. “Well, I made a few loaves of bread today. I thought you might want one!”
You held it out, an offering.
He took it.
“Still not sure why you’re doin’ this,” he said, almost sneering. “You just never work? FEDRA jobs that kush?”
“No,” you frowned. There was the familiar pinch of tears at the back of your throat. “No, I work 12 hours a day six days a week, I just… I like to share.”
You turned to go before you started crying in front of him, like an idiot. You’d always been overly sensitive, too open-hearted your mom had always said. It didn’t serve you well in the apocalypse.
“Wait,” he said. You stopped but didn’t turn around, tears starting to slip down your cheeks. “Shit, I… Look. I’m not trying to be an asshole, OK? Just… Haven’t exactly had many people be nice for the sake of bein’ nice in a while. Feels hard to believe. Would… would you want to come inside? Don’t exactly got much at the moment but there’s coffee. Could make us some.”
You dried your eyes on the back of your wrists and hoped he didn’t notice.
“Yeah,” you sniffed a little before turning around. “Yeah, OK. Coffee sounds good.”
It was awkward at first. Joel was stiff, clearly not used to having someone else around who wasn’t his brother. It reminded you of when you’d adopted a dog from the shelter when you were in your 20s. You brought him home to your apartment and let him off the leash and it was like he didn’t know what to do. He could recognize that this was a home, that it had a kitchen and a living room and a couch. He just couldn’t find his place in it. An interloper. Something that needed a map to help navigate a new yet familiar land.
“How are you liking Boston?” You asked after a few minutes of awkward silence.
He shrugged.
“Fine,” he said. “Still tryin’ to figure out if it’s better than out there or not.”
You nodded slowly.
“I’ve wondered that, too,” you said. “But I’ve never been out there. I’m just not sure it’s worth it to try and figure out the difference.”
He was almost kind while you were there. Well, definitely kind by Joel standards, almost by anyone else’s. But you’d take what you could get. Especially since you imagined that would be the last time something like that would ever happen.
You were wrong.
When you made pasta a few days later - the sauce surprisingly good for something thrown together from leftovers from the guards’ mess hall - you brought plates a few doors down and Joel answered. He invited you in again, even as you tried to just leave the food and go.
The conversation was unlike anything you’d ever really had before. It wasn’t small talk - Joel seemed to find that sort of conversation excruciating - but it wasn’t anything personal, either. It occupied an nebulous third arena, deep and intelligent - discussing things like depictions of the end of the world in fiction and what they’d gotten right and what you thought might becoming because of it - but without offering a glimpse into the core of the other person.
You weren’t sure what to do with any of it. But you liked it. You liked Joel.
It happened a few more times over the next several months, you ending up in an obscure conversation with Joel in his apartment every other week or so, until, one day, things went bad on your walk home from work.
One of your cooks was too sick to work - which said a lot with FEDRA breathing down your necks - and you’d stayed late at the kitchen after, getting things reset for the next day.
It was raining and cold and miserable as you trudged home, looking forward to a hopefully hot shower and your bed, when someone stepped out of the shadows as you turned a corner. .
“Well well,” the man said, making you jump. There was a knife in his hand. You swallowed. “Look what we have here. A FEDRA bitch.”
You looked around quickly, about to take off back the way you came when there was something warm and large against your back.
“Don’t even think about it,” the man’s voice was harsh.
“I’m sorry,” you said, your hands shaking. “I’ll give you whatever you want, I have ration cards, you can have them…”
You felt the man behind you laugh.
“Hear that?” He said. “She thinks we want her ration cards.”
He sneered the last words, taunting you.
“I just…” you began but the man in front of you spoke now.
“We’ll take the ration cards,” he said, stepping closer. “Take a lot else, too. FEDRA killed my sister. Seems only fair we take a few of their bitches in return.”
“Please,” you said softly. “Please, they won’t care, I’m just a cook, they won’t even notice, I’m so sorry about your sister but I’m not…”
The one behind you grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back, making you squeal. The other punched you across the face, making you cry out in shock as much as it was pain.
“Then we’ll start with you,” he said. “And take a few others, too. We’ll just take and take and take until they have to pay attention. Won’t we?”
“Yup,” the man at your back put his mouth next to your ear so you could feel his hot breath on your skin. “We could get creative with ‘er. Know you wanted to gut her but now I’m wondering if I could make her choke to death on my cock…”
Your heart was racing, beating so hard against your ribs it felt like it should be bruising from the force of it.
“Please,” you were crying. “Please, I haven’t done anything to hurt anyone, I just…”
“You’re FEDRA,” the man in front of you said, curling his hand into a fist. “That’s plenty.”
You flinched from the blow you knew was about to land, tried to remember what you could about throwing a punch, when a sharp voice broke through the night.
“Hey!”
You opened your eyes just enough to see Joel stalking up.
“The fuck you think you’re doin’?” He demanded. The man at your back released your hair. Joel didn’t slow down. He just shoved the man in front of you back. “Think you can just fuck with whoever you want around here?”
“You FEDRA now, too, Miller?” He snapped. “Fuckin’ kill you too, maybe make you suck my dick first, too…”
Joel punched him, hard, across the face. So hard the man collapsed to the ground in one hit. The man at your back grabbed you and threw you to the ground and you landed in the mud as he lunged for Joel. He dodged the man easily, throwing a punch to the man’s torso before he grabbed a knife from his belt and thrust it into the man’s stomach. He gasped at it, his mouth agape in shock as Joel pulled the blade up through his gut to his ribs before shoving him to the ground. The man he’d punched first had managed to roll over, trying to get up. Joel held up the knife.
“Try it, Pickett,” he said. “Fuckin’ dare you.”
The man stayed down. Joel nodded, bending to wipe his knife on Pickett’s pants before putting it in the sheath at his belt. He pulled his leg back and kicked the man, hard, in the stomach, right where he’d stabbed the other one.
“She’s under my protection,” Joel snapped. “Tell your fuckin’ friends. I catch any of you fuckin’ with her, I’ll kill every last one of you. Understand?”
Pickett just groaned. Joel dropped to one knee next to the man and took his face in one hand, his fingers sinking harshly into the ruddy flesh of the man’s cheeks.
“Asked you a goddamn question,” he snapped. “Expect an answer or you’re too useless to leave alive. She’s protected. Fuck with her, you die like your fuckin’ buddy. Understood?”
“Understood,” the man managed. Joel freed his face and he slumped down into the mud as Joel straightened back up.
“Good.”
He left the man in the mud before kneeling next to you.
“You alright baby doll?” He asked, his voice weirdly gentle. You sniffed and nodded. “Alright, let’s get you up, get you home and cleaned up….”
He put his hands on you delicately. You realized suddenly that Joel had never touched you before. Even when you handed him food or he gave you a cup of tea or coffee, his fingers never even brushed your own. Now, his hands were fully on you, all overly large and delicate and warm, guiding you into sitting up and then standing. Once you were on your feet, one of those large hands gingerly took your chin and turned your face this way and that, so different parts of your skin caught the light.
“Fucker got you good,” he said, shooting the man who was still alive in the puddle another glare. “C’mon. We’ll get you home, get you all cleaned up. You’ll be OK.”
He tucked you below his arm, guiding you away from the carnage behind you. You turned to look at it, anyway, the still living man crawling through the mud and the rain to his dead friend.
“Don’t,” Joel said, voice oddly gentle. He delicately tucked your head against him, making it so you couldn’t look back. “Don’t need to see that. They don’t fuckin’ deserve it.”
“You killed him,” you said, hating how small and weak you sounded. “Joel, you killed that man, he’s…”
“Barely counted as a fuckin’ man,” he muttered. “Got what he deserved. Don’t worry about it. C’mon, almost back…”
You were strangely numb as you let Joel guide you back to your building. He led you up the stairs and to your apartment door, something that shouldn’t have surprised you - you only lived a few doors down from him and Tommy, after all - you just hadn’t thought he’d ever paid attention.
“Gimme the key,” he said, his arm still around you. You obeyed, your hands still shaking as you got the key from your pocket and handed it over. He unlocked the door and flipped the lights on. You were glad you’d picked your apartment a bit the day before so it was at least neat and relatively clean - at least by QZ standards it was, anyway.
Joel lowered you gently into a chair at your kitchen table and pulled up another one next to you. You frowned.
“What are…”
“Fuckers got a good hit on you,” he said, looking at your face in the light, frowning. “Should’ve just killed them both but that don’t work as well for sending a specific goddamn message….”
It seemed like he was talking to himself, at least in part. You just watched him examine you, his face drawn, eyes tracing over your skin.
“Go get cleaned up,” he said, sitting back from you. You frowned. “You’re covered in mud. Won’t do a damn bit of good to bandage you up now if you’re a mess.”
“Right,” you said, looking down at your body. You’d almost forgotten that part of it. “Um…”
“Be here when you’re done,” he said. “Get you patched up. Go shower.”
You took a last look at him, acutely aware of the mud dripping onto your carpet, before you went to your bathroom, stripped down and climbed in the shower. You tried not to think about the fact that Joel Miller was just… sitting in your apartment.
It didn’t make any sense. It was Joel. Why had he even bothered to stop? Why had he intervened at all? He seemed to think of you as little more than a nuisance but he saved you. Killed a man for you. Told another that you were under his protection, all but told him to let the whole of the QZ know it. And now he was just sitting at your kitchen table, waiting for you to get out of the shower so he could take care of you.
You stayed under the mercifully warm water longer than you needed to trying to come up with an answer. The best thing you could come up with was that he felt like he owed you for all the food you’d brought over the last few months - though murder seemed like a high price for some bread and dinners.
In your almost dazed state, you hadn’t thought to bring more clothes into the bathroom with you, a fact that occurred to you when you were still in the shower. You groaned. At least there was a robe in the bathroom so you wouldn’t need to dart across the hall to your bedroom while wrapped in nothing but a damn towel.
But when you stepped out of the bathroom in a haze of steam and wrapped in a terrycloth robe that went almost to your ankles, Joel was standing at the mouth of the hall. He looked up at you and blinked twice, frozen where he stood. You froze, too. You weren’t entirely sure why, if maybe you felt like prey under his gaze, a rabbit hoping that stillness would keep the wolf from gutting you, or if the heat inside you made you want to be cracked open wide to the very center of you and consumed.
“Better,” Joel said after a moment before jerking his head toward the kitchen table. “In here, where it’s light.”
“But…” you tried to protest, overly aware of your own nakedness below your robe.
“It’s fine,” he cut you off. “C’mere.”
You kept your eyes on him as you obeyed, moving slow and cautious for the kitchen table, never turning your back to him. You still weren’t sure why.
The seat you were in before had been cleaned, as had your floor, no sign of the splatters of mud. Instead, there was a small bottle of rubbing alcohol and cotton balls and gauze on your kitchen table.
“Sit,” Joel ordered. You obeyed without hesitation. He took the seat close to you again, reaching to the leg of your chair and jerking you forward, the wood groaning as it scratched across the linoleum of your floor. He took your chin in his hands again and examined your skin, his face close to yours. You could smell him, the rain water on his skin, the remnants of laundry soap, the bite of something wild that you couldn’t place but seemed to blend with his rough beard and flannel shirt. “Not exactly a doctor but don’t think you need stitches. Just gotta keep you from getting infected. Unless you’d rather go to the damn clinic…”
“No!” You said it quickly, probably too forcefully. You cleared your throat. “No, I… No clinic. I don’t want to cause any issues and I don’t want them to ask too many questions…”
You didn’t want anything that would tie the dead body that was going cold in the rain a few blocks away to you or Joel.
“Good,” Joel said. He dabbed the rubbing alcohol on your cut cheek, making you hiss in pain but you held still. His fingers were surprisingly gentle, even with the rough callus of them. “You’re doin’ good, baby doll. Almost done.”
You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, his brows drawn together as he concentrated on you before picking up the gauze and taping it over the injured skin.
He released your face when he finished and sat back in the chair. You crossed your arms over your stomach, watching him for a moment. You’d always known that Joel was handsome. That was a simple fact, anyone with working eyes could see it. But it had always been a somewhat neutral statement. He was handsome but he was also cold and gruff and seemed to barely tolerate you outside of the unusual conversations you had when you brought something by and Tommy was unexpectedly absent. Even then, you’d gotten the impression that he was humoring you for Tommy’s sake, not out of any kindness or affection toward you. He was handsome but you’d never had anything more than a passing attraction to the man because thinking about how he must look at you, see you, hurt.
But it was like a switch had flipped since Joel had saved you. Like the only thing that had been keeping you from looking at him and wanting him had been the idea that he wouldn’t want you in return. Some kind of protective measure meant to save you from getting attached to something hopeless because, at the end of the world, what was the point of attachment without hope?
“Thank you,” you said when you realized you’d been quiet for too long.
Joel shrugged.
“Anyone fucks with you again, tell me,” Joel said. “Idiots should know better now, but…”
You nodded slowly. Joel watched you for a moment before getting up and going to your kitchen. He got a towel from a drawer and filled it with ice before coming back and moving his chair closer to yours and pressing it against your bandaged skin. Your fingers covered his, meaning to take the ice pack from him, but he left his hand there, cradling it to your face. Your eyes met his, all dark and deep and wounded and you swallowed, hard.
“Why did you do that?” You asked, whispering more than fully talking. Like it was a secret you were asking at all.
“Didn’t deserve what they were about to do to you,” he said. His eyes were still on yours. You were closer to him than you’d ever been before. Your hand slid from his down his arm to his elbow, fingers twisting in the fabric of his sleeve. You watched his jaw tense for a moment. “Didn’t… Couldn’t see you hurt.”
You leaned into him. You couldn’t help it, drawn into his strength and warmth, the comfort of his safety and sudden kindness so overwhelming it was a force unto itself. It was almost a surprise when you kissed him, that his lips were on your own.
The kiss was only soft and gentle for a moment. Just long enough for Joel to drop the ice pack to the floor, his hand gently holding your bandaged face, ensuring he kept your mouth at the right angle. His other hand went to your waist, grabbing you almost roughly, pulling you sharply onto his lap with a surprised squeak. You were straddling Joel and damn near naked doing it, the only thing between you his jeans and the robe that was caught between your thighs.
You froze as his fingers tightened on you, his lips growing more insistent, the heat in you building and burning but you weren’t sure what to do with it all.
But he wasn’t slowing down or pulling away. His kiss deepened and the hand that was at your waist moved to the small of your back, adjusting you so that your core was pressed tightly to his growing length in his jeans. You moaned into his mouth, involuntarily rocking your hips against his hardening cock. Your arms went around his neck and you pressed yourself closer to him, dipping your tongue into his mouth to taste him. Joel’s hips pressed up against yours and you could feel his bulge against you, the heat of him making your core tighten and ache.
Joel’s hands left your face and your back, coming around to the knot on the front of your robe. He pulled his lips from yours and looked down at your body as he untied it. He looked you in the eye - a silent request for permission, it seemed - and you didn’t stop him as his hands slid inside the fabric and pushed it away from you.
Your skin was still warm from the shower and the shock of the cool air against you made you shiver. Joel didn’t seem to notice. His hands moved almost reverently for your waist, then your breasts, his callused fingers running over your soft, smooth skin, cupping the heavy globes of flesh, running his thumbs over your pebbled nipples.
“Fucking Christ,” he breathed before kissing you again, your tits still in his hands. You pulled him closer, tighter, not caring if you seemed like some kind of rabid whore as you ground your leaking slit down on his still clothed cock.
His hands ranged over you as he all but devoured your mouth, grip getting harder, kiss getting more desperate before he separated from you once more, panting for breath, pupils blown.
“Let me fuck you,” his chest was heaving. He didn’t say it like a question or even a plea. He said it like it was a foregone conclusion, that he was going to have you and this was a formality.
You could only nod and he shoved your robe to the floor before taking you in his arms and carrying you to your couch. He ripped his shirt over his head and cast it aside before hurriedly stepping out of his boots and shoving his pants and underwear down and off, his cock full and hard, making your eyes go wide. It’s not like you were a virgin or anything, you’d been in your early 30s when the outbreak happened, you’d had your fair share of men. You’d just never seen a cock quite that thick.
Joel looked down at you on the couch, one of his hands wrapping around his length and stroking it once, twice, before gathering the precome leaking from his head and spreading it over himself.
“Joel,” you swallowed hard as he adjusted your legs and climbed between them. “I don’t think…”
“It’ll fit, Baby Doll,” he was still breathless as he jerked himself. “I’ll make it fit. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry…”
You nodded, not really sure you believed him, but the gnawing need inside you was overwhelming any resistance you felt as he lined his fat, almost purple head with your weeping hole. You sat up on your elbows, watching where he was going to enter you - or try to enter you, at least.
“Already so wet,” he ran his head up and down your slit, gathering your slick. “Make you feel so good, fill you up so good, promise baby…”
He pushed himself inside you then, a grimace on his face until his head almost popped into your tight channel, pulling a shocked gasp from you. He was hardly inside you but you could still feel the burning stretch of him. His thumb went to your clit and brushed it at first, making you shudder, before working you in tight, firm circles. He fucked just the tip of him in and out of you, keeping the pressure on your sensitive nub as he did. You rocked your hips against him, you couldn’t help it, your orgasm already closer than you’d expected it to be.
“See?” He panted. “Told you I’d take care of you.”
With that, he thrust into you the rest of the way, making your eyes go wide and a high pitched whine leave you. You couldn’t look away from where he was filling you, the stretch unlike anything you’d ever felt before. He was so big you could see the outline of him between your hips, a foreign swell where he’d made space inside you to fill.
“Joel,” you whimpered below him. You could feel him twitch inside you, like he was inches away from orgasm already. “Fuck, I need a minute, you’re too big, I need…”
“Fuck,” he groaned, tipping his head back, his hands finding your waist. But he was still inside you even though you could feel that he wanted to fuck you hard and fast. Your body adjusted, the almost painful strain of taking him fading to an overwhelming fullness that had you starting to rock your hips against him, desperate for more stimulation. “Fuckin’ Christ, gonna lose it with you doing that, Baby Doll, I need to fuck you, I gotta, won’t hurt you promise I won’t…”
You nodded but you weren’t sure it even registered with him. His grip on your waist tightened and he pulled back from you - slow at first - before thrusting all the way back in, the force of it knocking the air out of you. You groaned as Joel started to fuck you, hard and fast and needy, his thick cock stretching you with every motion.
“Knew you could take it,” he panted. “Told you I’d make it fit.”
You just whimpered, one of your hands finding your clit, the other your breast, working yourself in both places as he pounded into you. Your channel grew tighter around him, your orgasm close.
“There you go,” he kept up his almost brutal pace. “Fuck yeah, make yourself come on this cock, come all over my fuckin’ cock while I wreck this little pussy, do it, fucking come for me.”
You couldn’t help it, you came so hard you cried out with it, your hands stilling as you pulsed over Joel and he fucked you through your orgasm. He never stopped, never even slowed. If anything, he slammed into you harder and faster and your overwrought pussy almost hurt with it.
“Fuck, can I come in you?” He asked. “Please… fuck… please, gotta come in you, need to come in you, fuck Baby I’m coming, gonna fill you up, fuck!”
He pressed himself deep and exploded inside you there before you had a chance to tell him either way, the hot ropes of his come coating your inner walls. He collapsed forward onto you, his head over your shoulder and pressed into the cushion of your couch as he caught his breath. You could feel him leaking out of your spent hole as he went soft inside you. You slowly, hesitantly put your arms around him, stroking his back for a moment. Part of you was unsure what, exactly, had just happened. If it meant anything at all.
“Fuck,” he sat up from you and pulled his cock from your body. He was glistening with the blend of you and him together. He looked down at you, still a little breathless, as you were splayed out before him. You remembered, suddenly, what it was like to look down at a chicken you’d split while butchering, all hollowed out, its only remaining purpose - to be consumed - laid bare. “Fuck, I… I don’t…”
You sat up on your elbows again and looked down between your legs. His come was leaking from you. You looked back up at him, acutely aware of your vulnerability but hiding anything from him felt wrong.
“It’s OK,” you said quietly.
“No,” he shook his head. “I… I’m sorry, I…”
He stopped and got off the couch, getting his clothes from the floor. He pulled his underwear and jeans on quickly before retrieving your robe from beside your kitchen table. He lowered it gently onto your stomach. You stared at it for a moment before sitting up and sliding it on. You cinched the tie around your waist.
“Are you…” he trailed off as he shrugged back into his shirt, his brown eyes ranging over you again and again.
“I’m fine.”
He nodded.
“Right,” he said. “Right, OK…”
He stepped into his boots, not bothering to adjust the laces. But then, he only lived a few doors down.
Oh God, he only lived a few doors down.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said quietly after he was fully clothed again. “I… I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” you said, getting up and crossing your arms over yourself, thankful that your robe was long and covered most of you. “I… I wanted it.”
“Right,” Joel nodded. “That… we can’t do that again, OK? It’s not smart. Probably best if we…”
“Sure,” you just nodded again. “Yeah, OK.”
“Good,” he said, going for your door. He stopped to look at you. “Take care of yourself. Let me know if you run into any more trouble.”
“I will,” you nodded. “Thanks, Joel.”
He gave you a nod and just left you there, his come dripping out of you and his bandage on your cheek.
That was the first time you fucked Joel Miller.
It wasn’t the last.
You came by a few weeks later, almost positive that it would just be Tommy home but it was Joel who answered the door.
Once you got through the awkwardness of the hellos and the handing off of biscuits, you tried to leave, even though your core was tight and achy being so close to Joel again. Like he’d imprinted himself inside you, the shadow of him still there as a reminder. But Joel wasn’t having it. He grabbed your shoulder and pulled you around to face him before pressing you back into the wall and all but shoving his tongue into your mouth. He fucked you right there, against the wall of his living room, and when your thoughts weren’t blinded by orgasms you were just praying that his brother didn’t come home and find the two of you like this.
When it was over, he stepped back from you, his eyes wide as he panted for breath and said over and over that it couldn’t happen again. That it wasn’t smart, not when you were neighbors and you were all stuck here like this. That he didn’t want any kind of anything with anyone. That it was a waste of time.
It took until about the fifth time for Joel to stop saying it couldn’t happen again. For him to just accept it. He showed up at your door most nights now. He had for more than a year now. You weren’t entirely sure what your relationship actually was. You slept better when Joel was wrapped around you, even when he jerked in his sleep as nightmares plagued him. If you had an utterly miserable day, he sometimes listened to you vent about it before he fucked you silly. He brought you things he thought you’d like when he made smuggling runs outside the QZ, like a magpie who sought out books and baking equipment. You made him dinner and cut his hair when it got too long and didn’t ask questions when you bandaged up his knuckles at the end of a long day.
But Joel had never so much as told you that he liked you, let alone anything close to love. Even though you loved him. It had taken you some time to realize that you had. You’d become numb to a lot since the outbreak. Love was a risk, one that your subconscious mind seemed itching to keep you away from. Especially from someone as distant as Joel. You’d been fucking no one but him for more than a year now and you’d only learned within the last month that he was a contractor before the end of the world.
You wanted to do something nice for him. Something that might let him start to love you. At least like you as something more than someone to fuck, anyway. And you had the perfect thing in mind.
That day, Joel rolled you over in the early morning hours, kissing you deeply in the dark, enough to start to wake you up.
“Have a good day,” your words were slurred and mushy in your sleep but he seemed to get the picture.
“Think you’ll have an easier time of it, I’m on sewer duty,” he kissed you one more time, just a peck on the lips. “See you tonight.”
“Mmmm.”
You waited until you were sure Joel was gone for the day before you turned on the lamp beside your bed and found Joel’s watch on the nightstand.
He never took the darn thing off except to sleep. He always wore it, every day. Except the days he was on sewer duty. He left it at home or at your place then, the face of it cracked and the mechanism so broken it didn’t work anymore. But he still wore it every damn day. He’d never told you why.
You ran your thumb over the broken glass of the face for a moment before setting it back down and getting dressed in your kitchen uniform and pocketing the watch.
Your shift started in an hour and a half, giving you what you hoped was enough time to get the errand you’d been planning done. You had to venture most of the way across the QZ to do it, traveling to the black market shops where you knew a lot of what Joel smuggled in wound up. It was still early there, people setting out what was on offer, and you found the one person you knew of in the QZ who dealt in things like jewelry and watches. Even though he’d always struck you as slimy every time he’d talked to you when you’d walked by his stall when on the hunt for something else.
“Hey there pretty lady,” he smirked. “Finally coming to see me?”
“I was wondering if you could fix something for me,” you said, getting the watch out and handing it over. “It’s my… it belongs to my friend. The face has been broken forever and I don’t think it tells time anymore. Think it’s fixable?”
He took it and frowned down at it, turning it over in his fingers.
“Kind of a piece of shit to waste the energy on fixing it,” he said before looking back up at you. “Could find you something better, get you a deal…”
“I’d rather get that one fixed if you can,” you smiled. “I don’t mind the price.”
He nodded, looking back down at it.
“Well, it’s beat to shit,” he said. “But I’ll give it my best shot or find something good to replace it with, how about that? Even buy this piece of crap off you, I’m sure I can use it for parts. Give you a discount on the watch itself.”
There was a twinge in your gut at that, the idea of maybe trading Joel’s watch away. It must have sentimental value if he wore the broken thing that much. Or maybe it was just force of habit? He didn’t have one that worked but felt naked without it?
“Sure,” you smiled. “When do you think you’ll know?”
“Tomorrow,” he said. “Come back, see me. I’ll let you know what I can figure out.”
You walked to work excited to see Joel that night. You were sure he was going to like the watch thing. Maybe it could be the start to something new, something good. After so long of living in limbo with him, you sure hoped it was.
***
Joel fucking hated sewer days.
They paid the best but it was disgusting work. The only worse job, in his opinion, was burning infected bodies. At least the sewer didn’t have dead kids.
Otherwise, it was worse.
He went by his apartment first to shower and get cleaned up before heading toward yours.
Joel was reluctant to admit it even to himself - especially to himself - but he’d grown attached to you over the last few years.
He’d never meant to fuck you.
It had been an accident, the first time. Or, at least, as much of an accident as fucking someone could be. He’d always thought you were pretty. You were beautiful, truly. Beautiful enough that he couldn’t pretend that you weren’t. So he moved on from that fact. But you were also sweet and kind, nicer to him than he deserved. He tried to keep you at arm’s length but you’d somehow managed to insert yourself into his life in ways he hadn’t expected. He liked being around you, he liked to look at you, he liked to imagine what it would feel like to be inside you. Falling into fucking you had been easy, so damn easy.
It helped that you didn’t ask anything of him. That you put up with shit from him that he doubted you’d have tolerated in the before times. But you were lonely here, that much was clear, and Joel was someone. He took advantage of that fact, he knew. He knew he should be better for you. Try to be more. Try to be something at all. But he wasn’t sure he had it in him anymore, if it had ever existed for anyone but Sarah at all. It seemed like it would be cruel to both of you to try.
So he didn’t.
He was lucky that you seemed fine with that. Even if he really wasn’t.
He beat you to your apartment. Not surprising, sewer shifts started early and ended early, and he let himself in to wait for you, going to get his watch off the nightstand first.
Joel felt naked without it. Almost like he was betraying his daughter when he didn’t wear it, that he’d somehow decided the last thing she’d done for him wasn’t good enough anymore. But wearing it on sewer jobs was too big a risk. If it fell off there, he’d never find it again and he wasn’t sure he could live with himself if that happened. So he left it wherever he slept the night before - as likely to be your place as his anymore - and always put it back on the second he got cleaned up.
But it wasn’t on your nightstand. He frowned, looking on the bed - you made it every day, like that shit still mattered - but it wasn’t there. He got down on his hands and knees and looked around the nightstand, below it, under the bed. He ripped the sheets off and shook them out, took the pillows out of their cases. His heart was pounding. It had to be here it had to.
He went to the bathroom next, maybe he’d taken it off in there the night before even though he never had before but he searched there, too. He was taking all the cushions off your couch when he heard your key in the door. He kept searching as you came in, not even looking up at you.
“Joel!” He heard you drop your keys and your bag and then your hands were on him, pulling him back from the couch and making him stand up straight. He was breathless. He had to find it, it had to be here. Fuck, what if he put it on this morning and it fell off on the job and he hasn’t noticed? What if it was gone? “What are you…”
“My watch,” he said, looking around the room for where to search next. “I… my fucking watch, left it here this morning, almost positive I left it here but I can’t find it and I need that watch, Baby Doll, I gotta…”
“Joel,” you smiled a little, putting your hands on his forearm. “It’s OK. You did leave it here but… well, it was supposed to be a surprise…”
His stomach dropped.
“What did you do.”
You took your hands back, smile fading at his tone. Your eyes went a little wide.
“I noticed that it’s broken,” your voice was quiet. “And I thought it was something that might be fixable…”
“What the fuck did you do?!”
You shocked back from him. Joel had never so much as raised his voice to you before and he was screaming now.
“I took it to a man across town,” you said quickly. “He said he might be able to fix it or find a good replacement and…”
“I don’t want it fucking fixed!” He screamed, pressing closer to you and you flinched back. “I want it the way it was! I want it the way it was when my daughter fucking died!”
You stared at him for a second. He’d never told you about Sarah. He didn’t talk about her. It hurt too much to even consider it, he kept her to himself, her memory saved for quiet spaces where he could let it overwhelm him.
“Your daughter?” You whispered, reaching for him. He stepped back from you, couldn’t handle your fucking hands on him, not now. “Joel, you never… I didn’t…”
“She gave me that watch!” He wasn’t yelling now but there was a tremble in his voice, the barely contained rage slipping through. “She gave me that fucking watch and the day she died she got it fixed for me. It got fucked up by the bullets that killed her because I didn’t do my fucking job as her father, I didn’t protect her! That watch is all I have left of her and you…” He shook his head, his resolve cracking and yelling again. “You fucking gave it away! How could you be that fucking stupid? That fucking careless? What the fuck were you thinking!”
“I’m sorry,” you said softly. You were crying, voice shaky. “I… I didn’t know, I just wanted…”
“You think I give a shit what you want?” He yelled, towering over you. “Think I give a shit about you? You’re just some stupid fucking girl I use when I need to get off and you…”
You were cowering back from him and he knew he was scaring you but he couldn’t feel anything past the sharp pain of loss enough to care.
“I’m sorry,” your voice was so quiet he could barely hear you. “Joel, please…”
He glared at you with so much force it made you flinch and stalked out your front door, not bothering to close it behind him.
Joel took the stairs down to the street two at a time and set off, walking quickly as night fell and rain started in a steady drizzle over him. He could think of a few places you’d probably try to take the watch. If he could find it in time… with all the fucking smuggling connections he has in this godforsaken town. He had to be able to find it. He had to.
But he searched all night, went to every goddamn black market dealer he could think of. He was only able to find about half of them, some out who the fuck knows where, and none of them had the watch.
It was daylight again when he returned home, soaking wet and exhausted. He glared at your door as he passed, going to his place to shower and try to warm up.
But without the distraction of searching, the desperate drive to do something because he could, he was forced to feel while standing in the steam and the water.
The pain of the loss of his daughter was there, sharp and acute when he realized he may never again touch something she had also held. The permanence of that somehow making her loss more real than it had been in years. It was gutting. He’d rather be shot or stabbed or have the shit beaten out of him than feel this. At least that was tangible, something he could heal from and not this constant, consuming pain.
But there was also you. You, who had become the only bright spot in this goddamn place. You, who held him when he woke up in a panic and told him that he was safe and that it would be OK. You, just about the only thing that had made him smile in years and who looked at him like he was something worth wanting. Looked at him like there was still a point to him at all.
You’d tried to do something nice for him. You hadn’t known any better, he knew that. He’d just never let you in. Never even told you Sarah existed let alone about the way that she died. How he’d held her, how Tommy had to drag him away from her body, how all he’d wanted to do was join her and he couldn’t even do that right. He’d never told you any of it. He couldn’t blame you for that, not when he was already afraid of how much he cared about you. He was even more terrified of what he knew he could feel for you if he just let himself. It wouldn’t even be hard. Not feeling it was like fighting against gravity. It would only take one slip and he’d fall into it, he knew that.
He got out of the shower and sighed, trying not to think about the watch. About the things he’d said to you. He’d been so panicked, so angry. He had tried to hurt you. Said things he knew were cruel because if he was hurting he wanted you to hurt, too.
But he wasn’t proud of that. He didn’t want you to hurt. He wanted to take care of you and protect you. You were kind and thoughtful and this fucking place hadn’t chewed you up and spit you out yet. He wanted to help you stay that way. Instead, he’d tried to hurt you.
He sighed and got dressed before going to knock on your door. It was your day off, he expected you to be home. Probably reading or baking something. Because apparently cooking all day during the week wasn’t enough, you had to do it on your day off, too.
“Hey!” Your next door neighbor came outside but her face fell when she saw Joel. “Oh, sorry. I thought you were…”
“I’ll tell ‘er you’re looking for her,” Joel said, looking back at the door, waiting for you to answer. But he didn’t even hear you inside. He frowned. He had a key, it just felt wrong to use it after the way he’d spoken to you but maybe he’d need to…
“Thanks,” your neighbor smiled, a plate in her hand. “She’s always making things for my daughter, I finally had enough extra to return the favor but I haven’t seen her since she left last night and…”
“Last night?” Joel’s frown deepened. “What do you mean, when last night?”
“Kind of late,” she frowned back. “After dark, I was just coming back home when I ran into her. Seemed like she was in a big hurry, looked like she might have been upset. I told her I had something for her and she said she’d be back later. I don’t think I missed her but…”
Joel’s heart sped up and he shoved his hand in his pocket, finding his keys. He tuned out the neighbor and had to fight to keep his hands from shaking as he opened your door.
Your apartment was still torn apart from when Joel had been searching it, couch cushions still all over the floor, coffee table askew. He ignored it, half walking, half running to your bedroom.
“What happened?” Your neighbor hovered in the doorway. Joel ignored her, too. He looked in your room, still in total disarray but empty, your uniform on the floor where it hadn’t been before. Your bathroom was empty.
“Fuck!” Joel smacked the wall. You’d left, gone somewhere and not come back. But you’d planned to come back, you’d told your neighbor that you were going to be back later and you hadn’t come home. He went to the woman in the doorway, her eyes still a bit wide as she took in the mess he’d made of your apartment. He took her by the shoulders and she blinked up at him in surprise. “Where was she going? Did she say? Tell you anything at all?”
“N-no,” she stammered, frozen in Joel’s grip. “She didn’t, I’m sorry, I don’t…”
Joel released her, running his fingers through his hair for a moment. Had you gone to try to get the watch back? He’d been so upset, so cruel… You must have. It seemed like something you would do, immediately go to try to fix it. He turned back to the woman, cursing the fact that he didn’t know this about you, that he had kept his distance from you so he wouldn’t know things about you and fall into you in the way that was so tempting to do.
“Know what markets she goes to?” He asked. “Especially for any contraband shit?” She just blinked at him for a moment and he resisted the urge to yell at her. That’s what got him into this situation, losing his fucking temper at someone who didn’t deserve it. He took a deep breath, keeping his voice calm. “I think she went to look for something but I need to know where that would be so I can go find her. Do you know?”
“Yeah,” she nodded after a moment. “Yeah, there’s one across town, in the south end. I’ve run into her there before…”
Joel was out the door before she finished talking. It was one of the places he’d gone the night before but hadn’t found anyone to talk to. He certainly hadn’t seen you there. But it was at least a starting point. He’d find you. He had to.
***
You stared at your open door for a few minutes after Joel left, in too much shock to move.
Joel had a daughter. A daughter who died. The watch had been from her, of course he wouldn’t want it fixed, of course he would wear it every day. And you’d given it to some slimy guy in the contraband market.
After a while, you could make yourself move. You closed your door and went to your room. Joel had turned that upside down, too. Of course he had. Because he was desperate and you’d made him that way.
You got changed quickly, leaving your uniform in a pile on the floor, grabbed a handful of ration cards in case you needed to buy the watch back, and headed out.
“Oh, hey!” Clara, your next door neighbor, almost ran into you on the stairs, her two-year-old on her hip. “I was just going to pop over, I made…”
“That’s so sweet,” you cut her off. “But I’ve gotta run, I’m so sorry. I’ll be back later and should be around tomorrow…”
“OK!” She called after you as you took off. “Be careful out there!”
You moved as quickly as you could manage toward the market, hoping that you could find the man, that he hadn’t started doing anything to the watch, that everything would be OK. Even if Joel hated you now, he shouldn’t lose the one thing he still had from his daughter because you hadn’t thought to ask him about the damn watch.
You breathed a sigh of relief when the man was still there, closing up shop, when you ran up.
“Why hello again,” he smiled, a smile that was smug and lecherous. “Haven’t been home to check my stash for parts yet, pretty girl, but if you wanted to come back with me I bet I could find a way to give you an even bigger discount…”
“That’s OK,” you said, a little breathless. “I actually just want the watch back, just the way it is…”
He frowned.
“It’s still pretty useless…”
“That’s OK!” You said quickly. “Just… please. Please say you still have it.”
He sighed and opened a box, rifling around in it for a moment before pulling it out. But he held onto it, running his thumb over the face of it.
“I was expecting something for fixing this,” he said, glancing up at you before looking down at the watch. “Had plans for those cards…”
You pulled a few ration cards from your pocket and held them out.
“Please,” you said. Even though he hadn’t done any work. You didn’t care. “The cards are yours, just give me the watch.”
He looked almost surprised that getting cards out of you had worked but he took them and gave you the watch. You looked at it for a moment, the broken glass in the face, the time frozen at 2:15. You tucked it in your pocket, the fist that had been clenched around your heart loosening.
“Thank you,” you smiled. “Just… Thank you.”
You started at a more reasonable pace back for your apartment. You’d go to Joel’s, return the watch, apologize again and hope that he wouldn’t still hate you once you fixed it. At least you hoped he wouldn’t be hurting as much, he didn’t deserve that, not after everything he’d been through. You could fix that for him, at least. You had to.
You were so relieved at getting the watch back that you weren’t paying close attention to your walk home. Yes, it was dark and raining and late but you knew the way and, since that day more than two years ago when Joel had saved you, everyone seemed to know you were protected. That you weren’t someone they messed with and expected to live. In hindsight, it made you feel like the QZ was safer than it was. So safe that you were fine walking home alone from a shady corner of town, far from FEDRA guard posts and people you knew.
It was a stupid mistake. You realized that when you heard a voice in the dark.
“Well well.”
The sound sent a chill down your spine. You recognized that voice, the voice of the man who had tried to kill you once.
You froze, eyes wide, an animal caught in a trap.
“If it isn’t Joel Miller’s little FEDRA bitch,” Pickett emerged from the shadows, his hands in his pockets, a few men at his side. Your eyes darted between them. There were six of them that you could see. There was no way you could fight off that many. Hell, you probably couldn’t even fight off one. You’d never been a fighter. “Awful far from home aren’t ya?”
“Heading there now,” you said, voice shaky. “Joel’s expecting me…”
“Well that’s too bad, isn’t it?” He prowled closer. “Guess you’ll have to keep him waiting just a bit longer.”
“You don’t want to do that,” you finally were able to make your legs move, backing away from him. “You know what he said…”
“But he isn’t here, is he?” He smirked. “And he’s the one who left his little toy out for just anyone to take. If you mattered all that much to him, don’t think you’d be out here all alone at this time of night.”
Your eyes darted, looking for the best way to run, but your mind was distracted. The man was right. You didn’t matter to Joel, he’d told you as much, that you were just some stupid girl he used when he needed it. You were just some stupid girl and you were going to wind up dead in the shitty part of the QZ and he’d never get the watch back, the one thing he had left of his daughter, because you’d been too stupid to ask about it. For some reason, that part hurt more than the thought of dying. There wasn’t much to life in the QZ, certainly not much that made life worth living. Joel had become the one thing you looked forward to. It was hard to mourn your own destruction when there wasn’t anything left that was really worth living for.
You tried to run, slipping in the mud as you went. But you were turned around, too panicked to look at street signs or pay close enough attention and, when you wound up at a dead end, you were cornered, the men closing in on you as you backed into a wall.
“Please,” you whispered. “It won’t make a difference to him or to FEDRA, if you want to hurt them, I’m not the way to do it and…”
“Maybe not,” Pickett smiled in a way that was more like the bearing of teeth than an actual smile. “But you sure will be fun.”
Your eyes were so glued to his that you didn’t even see it coming when the first blow sent you to the ground.
***
Joel made it to the market in record time, out of breath and bones reminding him that he was in his 40s now and he’d spent his life breaking his body to survive. He scanned the stalls quickly, finding the man who was the most likely one you’d have gone to, watches and jewelry out on a table in front of him. As if anyone could afford that shit now anyway.
“How can I help you?” The man asked, smiling up at Joel from his seat behind the table. “Looking for something special for a lady friend, perhaps?”
“Looking for my…” he paused. Technically, you weren’t anything to him. “My friend. She would have come here yesterday with a watch…”
“Oh,” he laughed. “Yeah, I know her. Such a pretty thing, a little disappointed she only decided to give me the time of day when she needed something…”
“She was here?” Joel asked, brows raised.
The man smirked.
“Answers are gonna cost you.”
Joel ground his teeth for a second before shooting his arm forward and roughly grabbing the back of the man’s neck, shoving his head down and slamming it into the table, the man giving a yelp of pain when his nose crushed against the wood.
“Fuck!” He swore as Joel pressed his face against the table. He squirmed but Joel held him down. “Jesus Christ, man!”
“Was. She. Here.” Joel’s teeth were clenched, his chest heaving.
“She was here!” The man cried out and Joel released his neck. He panted for breath for a moment and sat up cautiously, cradling the back of his neck. “She was here, last night, she came by, wanted the watch back, she seemed desperate.”
“Where’d she go from here?” Joel demanded.
“What?”
“Where!” Joel screamed, hand curling into a fist, ready to beat the answer out of him.
“Back the way she came!” He covered his head with his arms. “Same place you came from what I could see, please!”
Joel stepped back.
“When was it?”
“Late!” The man said quickly. “Late, she came by late. Right at the end of the day, I was closing up shop, it was dark and raining…”
So you’d made it this far. You just hadn’t made it back home.
“Anyone who runs around here who would give her trouble?” Joel asked. “Keep her from comin’ home?”
“Plenty of people,” the man looked at him like he was insane. Joel glowered at him again and he flinched. “But most likely, Pickett’s gang, saw a few of them last night prowling around, they’ve been causing trouble around here lately. If she ran into trouble, it’s probably with them!”
Joel nodded slowly. Pickett. He knew him. That was the man he’d saved you from before, the jackass had been building up a following of FEDRA hating idiots who seemed bent on causing trouble and hurting people as a way to feel strong by being cruel.
He knew where to find them.
Joel ran there, a crumbling building FEDRA hadn’t done anything with yet that he and Tommy had run drugs to a few times. He pulled the knife he kept at his belt free before he pushed the door open. Whether you were here or not, these were men he wouldn’t care about killing.
The first one was just inside the door. Probably meant to be standing guard but not paying attention, flipping through an old Playboy instead. Joel caught him off guard. He wrapped his hand around the handle of the knife and used it to bolster his punch, the blow landing so hard the man fell backwards off his stool. Joel kicked his gun away and kneeled on the man’s chest, putting the blade to his throat.
“Your boss bring a woman here last night?” Joel asked.
“Not your business, is it?” The man sneered. Joel ground his teeth, covering the man’s mouth to muffle his screams before taking the knife in his hand and thrusting it into the man’s shoulder. Joel waited until he quieted some, gasping below his palm, before he spoke again.
“Scream and I’ll gut you like a fuckin’ fish,” Joel snarled. “Now I’m just about done askin’ nicely. Did your boss bring a woman here last night?”
“Yes!” He said, pleading. “He did, she’s still here, I think she’s still alive, they’re on the second floor, please…”
Joel freed the knife and thrust it into the man’s throat. He didn’t need him anymore. He picked up the gun.
It was easy, finding you then. He shot men as they approached, only half a dozen or so between him and you. But none of them were Pickett.
He found the room he was sure you were in, two men stationed at the door who fired at him when he came around the corner. He ducked out of sight, readied his stolen weapon and exposed himself just enough to shoot. He dropped them both before they could land a shot on him. He took their ammo and changed his clip before listening at the door for a moment. It was quiet.
Joel opened the door slowly, cautiously, but he didn’t need to. You were the only one inside, on the ground in an unnatural looking position. He holstered the gun and ran to you, kneeling beside your prone form. There was a rattle in your breath and you’d been beaten to hell. Even in the dim light, he could see the cuts on your skin, the parts of you he could see swollen and discolored. They���d savaged you, your body broken and bleeding, and you’d only been out here because of him. Because he’d been so angry at you for something that wasn’t your fault. Fuck, you were the only thing left he cared about besides Tommy and you were bleeding because of him. If you died because of him, if he’d failed you the way he’d failed Sarah…
“Please,” you rasped, trying to lift your head but giving up, your eyes closed. Your voice surprised Joel, he hadn’t expected you to be conscious. “Please… I don’t…”
“It’s OK Baby Doll,” Joel said, his voice thick. “It’s me, you’re OK now. Gonna take real good care of you, you’re alright…”
“Joel?” You lifted your head and managed to open one eye. The other was swollen shut. “Joel, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”
Before he had a chance to stop you from moving, you reached a shaky hand into the pocket of your jeans and pulled out the watch. You held it out to him, your fingers bloody.
“I don’t think it’s any more broken,” you winced. “I tried to protect it, I’m sorry…”
He took it from you, your blood on the face and the band, a tightness in his throat he was struggling to breathe around.
“S’OK Baby Doll,” he said, putting it on his wrist quickly and reached for your head, to try to brush some bloody hair back from your skin, but you flinched away from him. “Nothin’ to be sorry for, it’s not your fault, none of this is your fault.”
You took a deep, shaky breath like you were going to argue with him, but you didn’t get the chance.
“Look who it is.”
Joel stiffened, getting to his feet slowly, turning to face him.
“Almost expected you to not show up,” Pickett smiled. “She seemed damn sure she didn’t mean anything to ya, swore up and down that you wouldn’t even notice she was gone.” Joel’s stomach twisted. “Took you so long I was starting to believe her.”
Pickett prowled closer.
“Course I’d hoped she’d be enough to draw you out,” he said. “Getting tired of tip-toeing around you and your fuckin’ brother. But if she wasn’t, at least she was fun. Didn’t even get a chance to let my guys have the real fun with her yet, though. Figured I’d see if we could knock her teeth out first, bet she’d suck real good then. But looks like you took care of them, so I guess she’s off the hook.”
Joel roared and lunged for Pickett, swinging for him as he did. The other man had either underestimated Joel or overestimated himself, because he tried to dodge him and failed, Joel’s shoulder catching him in the chest and sending him sprawling to the ground. Before he had a chance to even get his bearings, Joel was on top of him, screaming as he pummeled him, raining the blows down on his face again and again and again.
For the first time since you’d disappeared, Joel felt like he was really doing something. This man had taken you, hurt you, was going to do more to you. Joel was doing what he was supposed to do. He was protecting you. He felt it in every blow he landed on the man’s face, in every collapsing structure below his skin, in every splash of blood. It wasn’t until he had stopped breathing and the blood had stopped pouring from his open wounds that he stilled, panting for breath as he looked at the mangled face of the man below him.
He stood, flexing his hand and looking at it, the split open knuckles, the mix of your blood and his own and Pickett’s on the watch. He wiped his hand on his shirt and went back to you, kneeling again.
“Joel,” you whimpered.
“He’s dead,” Joel said, his voice thick. “They’re all dead. Warned ‘em. Told ‘em what would happen if they fucked with you.”
He watched you work to swallow around your damaged throat as you nodded.
“You’re safe now,” he said softly, fingertips gently tracing your face where you didn’t look battered. You flinched at first but relaxed. “Need to wait a bit to take you home. Too bright outside right now, FEDRA fucks would stop us…”
“Don’t need to worry about me,” you struggled to sit up for a moment before giving up and going limp on the floor. “It’s OK. Already did more than you should have. Go home in case FEDRA comes poking around and…”
“Not leaving you here,” he said gruffly.
You winced as you swallowed and fought to open the one eye you could.
“Don’t put yourself at risk for me,” you managed. “I’m not worth it, you know that and…”
“You’re worth it, Baby Doll,” he said softly, his hand on your face. “About the only thing in this fuckin’ place that is.”
You flinched as you frowned.
“No,” you shook your head a little. “No, you said…”
“Don’t matter what I said,” he cut you off, trying to ignore the stabbing guilt in his chest. Fuck, the things he’d said to you. “I didn’t mean it, didn’t mean a fuckin’ word of it. I was pissed at myself, I was hurting, I took it out on you and I never should have said or done any of it, Baby Doll, never. I didn’t mean it, not a word of it and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I wish I could take it back, I wish I could take all of it back…”
He lay beside you, delicately holding your face, his eyes tracing over you. He memorized the damage done, the signs of all the pain he knew you were in. All because he hadn’t told you about Sarah, because he’d hurt you, because he’d failed you. He wouldn’t do that again. He was not going to let you suffer because of him again. You tried to move closer to him but he put his hand on your hip and held you still, instead moving toward you. You winced as you pressed against him but it didn’t stop you. He held you gently, feeling you breathe against him.
“I’m sorry, Joel,” your voice was muffled. “I didn’t mean to, I promise…”
“Shh,” he hushed you, tears stinging his eyes. He’d done this to you. Made you feel like, even this broken, it was your fault. “It’s not your fault. None of it. I’ve got you, Baby Doll. Gonna take care of you. Gonna take such good care of you if you let me. Please let me.”
You were quiet, passing out against him. He held you like that, letting himself feel for you, letting himself fall into that dangerous place with you. He stopped fighting the gravity of loving you until it was dark enough to safely carry you home.
He got you cleaned up, patching you up as best he could before giving you some pain meds from a stash he hadn’t traded away yet and carrying you to bed. He held you there, too, his body curved around yours, shielding you from anything that could hurt you and promised himself, silently, that he’d never see you like this again. Because he was going to take care of you. He was going to protect you, he was going to love you, until there was nothing else left of him and he was dead and gone.
He ran a gentle hand over your head and pressed a kiss to your hair, the glass of the watch reflecting the light of the moon, sending fractured splotches of light on your wall. He wasn’t going to fail again. That much, Joel knew.
#fanfic#joel miller x female reader#kit answers#send asks#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#smut fic#joel miller x oc
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Hey, friendly question that you don't even need to answer if you don't have the spoons:
I have APD (Auditory Processing Disorder for those who are unaware, though I assume if someone follows you, they know what that is lol), and I've been considering over the last few years how exactly to quantify it. It is in large part due to my neurodivergencies, but I think it's slightly worsened by the fact that my ears just... make a lot of wax. For these reasons, I often need subtitles, I can become totally lost in certain conversations, when there's a lot of noise, or when I'm speaking to someone who puts different emphasis on words than I expect, or uses a word I am not expecting altogether. Not being able to see someone's lips also makes all of this more difficult.
I also know, from what I've heard and read, that a lot of these things are similar to some of what HoH people experience in the social aspect. I'm not HoH, as far as I know, I haven't experienced any true *hearing* loss, rather, difficulty processing.
My question is, is there a way that I, as a person with APD, can converse with and relate to HoH people from our similarities without making them feel invalidated because I do not experience difficulty with *hearing*? I'm also not sure how HoH and d/Deaf people feel about people with APD requesting similar accessibility aids (closed/open caption, headphones, etc.), especially in cases where there are limited aids available, or how they feel re: APD-ers in general. I don't wish to make it seem as though I expect you to speak for *all* HoH and d/Deaf people, but I am interested in your perspective, as someone who is HoH and has APD. Do you see there being a day when HoH, d/Deaf, and APD will be considered part of the same category, or would it be insulting to the former two categories to have the latter one included in the same breath? Is there ableism that comes from those with APD aimed at HoH and d/Deaf people that we should call ourselves in on (and have I maybe hit some of those even in my attempt to word this well)?
Regardless, thank you for your time, and I hope you're having a good night. Day. Whatever time it is for you 😅
So there's a lot to here that I don't really have the experience to unpack (hopefully, someone else does), but I find it interesting that you are very focused on not wanting to step on anyone's toes in the hoh / d/Deaf community when it comes to needing accommodations for your ADP.
And while I can't speak for the broader community in terms of whether they feel like ADP belongs under the same banner or instances of lateral ableism... I just want to point out that if you benefit from accessibility features like closed captions, headphones, and being able to lip-read... you're not taking resources away from someone who needs them more because YOU need them.
ADP is not well understood, and while the debate rages on over whether it's a learning disability (some places say no, some say yes. Typically, the same places that debate whether ADHD is a learning disability, which for some of us, it absolutely is.) but this stems largely from thinking of disabilities as absolutes and not spectrums that are largely influenced by individual severity.
I've had ADP my whole life, and it is absolutely worse for me than my actual physical hearing loss. Should I not use CC or listening aid devices to help just because my physical hearing loss is not profound?
Some people develop ADP after severe ear infections, head trauma, or conditions like MS. Do they not deserve accommodations just because their inability to process sound differs from someone else who is hoh or d/Deaf?
Of course not. That'd be ableist.
I think, perhaps, you need to be kinder to yourself over this and acknowledge that it's okay for you to use these accessibility aids.
You don't need to suffer more. I promise you.
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I always wonder if I'm doing this whole self shipping thing correctly. like im worried if im doing too much or too little or if i need to interact with people more or if i need to write some sort of backstory. like the story of how i got with him i see is unique from the rest of the self shipper ive encountered so far.
to me, he knows hes fictional and i like to play around with him and other characters in my mind. ive seen many fans of shows do such things but it seems here they labels them familial fos or something? idk i just liked to use my imagination to play around with them.
and then days passed and this character i start to become closer and closer to him everyday until finally one day during a very rough moment i just said to him "i self ship with you" and boom we're married lol.
but i dont have a self insert. its just me, me as a regular person. and i like to imagine different scenarios with us. he also is helping me through other mental things. and he knows hes imaginary. almost like a copy of the character i watched the show from, but hes self aware of his actions and is kinder and softer than he is in canon. hes mine basically.
but i guess the thing that hurts a lot is that that i had a bad fallout with some of his other fans and its dampened my love for him unfortunately. (i actually sent an ask about this before heh).
i also have a bad habit of comparing myself to what other self shippers do and i start to feel guilty that im not as open as they are because social interactions with my fo get very deep and personal and...if i ever do talk about him id want it to be with someone who understands how deep this goes with him and me. and its hard to do that on public forums. it even gets painful.
sometimes i dont even want to talk or gush about him and i just want to keep to ourselves in private without anyone peeking in. that way i dont invite any eyes into my private headspace. even the most innocuous thoughts. i just want it to be us and only us. but at the same time im lonely and want to meet people who feel the same lol and a lot of times i overshare. i have this saying that i say to myself: once i put something of myself out there, its not mine anymore. its now shared with others. and you know what i dont like sharing anything about him in public lol, but idk how else to make connections. i see everyone else sharing about their characters and i want to make friends so i also share, but im not enjoying it.
idk what do you think? am i weird? is this not common? are these feelings normal here? are there people out there who feel the same? ty.
My dearest, sweetest, little anon bean, I mean this with every ounce of my heart: your self shipping experience is FOR YOU. That means you can't mess it up! You can't go wrong! :)
There is no right or wrong way to self ship!
Some people have self inserts, some people don't (like me *raises hand).
Some people LOVE to gush about their f/os and put EVERYTHING out there! Other people are a little more protective for various reasons - maybe they don't want criticism from the self ship community, maybe they feel they aren't creative so they don't want to create content, or maybe, like you (and me!) it just feels right to keep things quiet.
Whatever the reason, it's ALL valid!
Some people write backstories because it's on their mind and they wanted to share it.
Other people (like me) don't have a backstory because...well...I just never thought about it!
If it helps, I've been part of the self-shipping community for about 3ish years officially (I was self shipping LONG before I found the community, I just didn't know what it was!) and for the record, I still don't understand everything that goes on in the community.
Other people (like me) don't have a backstory because...well...I just never thought about it!
I totally hear you about your frustration with comparing yourself to other more out-going shippers. For me, socializing (even in parasocial online situations) drains me very quickly, so I often have to retreat to recharge (which I feel very bad about sometimes, even though that's how my brain/body has worked for my entire life). So I can't be as active as other people, or create as much content, or interact as much as others.
Ultimately, the self shipping community is HUGE and it's very, very fluid. There are some areas that I don't go into because...yikes...it's a war zone. But I have met some FANTASTIC people through this blog (and my personal side blogs!) so finding your place in the community comes down to just being yourself!
Do what feels right to you. If you don't want to share much, that's okay! Backstories, self inserts, gushing, and anything else that you might encounter is all optional based on YOUR comfort level! :)
Some suggestions for making friends that have helped me:
Offer to create something for others with their f/os, i.e. playlists, ficlets, moodboards, imagines (very popular!) etc.
When someone reblogs an ask game, send them a few asks about their f/o(s)!
Comment on fics and other things that people share about their f/os. Even if it's something simple like, "You're cute together!" it really stands out to people and makes an impression that you noticed their f/o! :)
Ask for a boost! I'm ALWAYS happy to signal boost to my blog if you're looking for people to chat with, or advertising for whatever you're doing on your blog! :)
You are NOT weird, dear anon! You're navigating what you want/don't want and that's okay! Self shipping is supposed to be a fun hobby that is entirely tailored to your desires and comfort level. You don't have to do anything you don't want to! ♥
And try not to worry about comparing yourself to others. You are your own unique person with your own needs, your own energy, your own boundaries. Just have fun with your f/o in any way you want and you're doing the self shipping thing right! :)
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Part 1 here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here!
A/N: I can’t always do tags since these parts are long but if you want to be tagged just lmk @thecrazytealady
* Honestly, everything feels so normal
* You’re sitting in the stands of a football stadium as a sea of graduates pass in front of you
* Well it’s mostly normal except for all the stares you get
* “You’ll get used to it” Kate tells you from your right side, you’re not sure when it happened but somehow you’ve become her favorite little member.
* “Sometimes we stare back to mess with them” Irina says from your other side with a teasing grin.
* Irina also seems to really like you, she’s probably you’re favourite
* While everyone else treated you like a child (which in a sense you are), she treated you like an adult
* You hope you can save her if things go exactly like they did in the book
* You’re hoping your close friendship with Edward changes things
* “Oh look there they are now-“
* And right on cue Alice was called first, then Edward
* An entire group of cheers erupt from your section, a few stands above you sits the entire Cullen clan
* Apparently the rest of them have already “graduated”, Alice and Edward are playing a year younger
* You catch him after the ceremony on the -pretty cold- field along with your-
* aunts?
* You’re not really sure what the official family structure is.
* “So what is this, your thirtieth time graduating high school?” You whisper to him after handing him his graduation present
* Some sheet music you know he’s been eyeing and a card that says “you only graduate once”
* You think he’ll appreciate the joke
* “It actually only my sixth” he grins, he so close you can feel a ghost of a breath on your ear
* You notice a couple of boys, adorning similar green graduation gowns staring at you. When you meet their eyes they hastily look away.
* “Hey Edward, what are those guys thinking right now?”
* He follows your line of sight and grins even wider
* “They’re thinking that it suddenly makes sense why I’m not interested in anyone at this school when I’m already dating someone as beautiful as you”
* And if you were anyone else you might have realized how you and Edward look when you’re together to everyone around you
* And it might have been the first sign that things have started to veer of the future you imagine
* But of course you don’t, and you say:
* “Really? You want me to believe two teenage boys used such eloquent language?”
* He laughs
* “I might have picked some.. kinder diction.”
* You both laugh, another private joke that would be referenced for years
* “And where’s my graduation gift?” Alice asks, you hand over a brightly wrapped package, it’s a magic 8 ball and a Chanel scarf, Edward already read Alice’s mind and assured you she would love it.
* “That’s hilarious” she says with a laugh, she hasn’t even opened the package, already seen what’s inside with her gift.
* “Are you coming to our graduation party tonight?” When she notices your confused expression she gives a pointed look to Edward. “You didn’t invite them?”
* Edward rolls his eyes
* “I didn’t think it would be that fun,” he looks to you and explains. “It’s just a party Alice likes to throw to help us fit in better.”
* “It also to commemorate graduating and going to college, which is Infinitely more fun.” She grins, a hand on Edwards shoulder
* He turns his attention to you, his mouth quirked in a lopsided smile
* “Do you want to go?”
* The party scene in Eclipse sure looked fun
* “Sure, sounds like a fun time.”
* It’s decided you’ll drive up with Edward after they all split up, and go to the party with him.
* You’re telling Kate and Irina when they get a look on their face
* “Is that not okay?” You wonder if it’s about Tanya, and how maybe she doesn’t like you spending so much time with Edward.
* “No it’s fine it’s just... will you be alright with all those humans?”
* You had done fine on the stands, but a house party was different, you guess it’s probably easier to eat someone when there are so many dark corners and so many suspects to pick from
* You wrinkle your nose, honestly you don’t get what the big deal is, sure they smell kiiinda nice, but the scent is comparable to one of your deers.
* Also, who knows where these people have been and what they’ve been eating. The thought of eating an alcoholics blood makes you scowl.
* “I think I’ll be fine” Irina laughs, and rests a hand on your shoulder
* “We’ll tell the others, do you want me to bring you a drink later on?”
* You shake your head, you ate a little bit more since you were going to be around so many people today.
* “I should be fine, Edward will probably drive me home, but if not I can always run”
* You always forget you can run faster than a car now.
* “I doubt Edward will refuse the opportunity to spend more time with you.” Irina smirks and you roll your eyes
* You’re both just friends, stuck in family’s where everyone seems to be in a relationship (except for you that is)
* There’s only so much you can take watching Eleazer and Carmen’s pda
* “I’ll see ya later” you excuse yourself to find Edward, who seems to be talking to a group of boys
* “So what’s their deal, are they your cousin or something?”
* “Um... they’re a family friend”
* Looks like Edwards confused about your family structure too
* “They look older are they in college?” Another asks, Edward hesitates, well you are older but you’re not really in school
* “Are you hooking up with them?” Edward winces
* “No we’re not close like that.”
* You decide now is a good time to intervene in the conversation
* “Hey, are you ready to go?” Edward looks relieved to see you
* “I’ll see you guys tonight at Alice’s party” he offers a polite smile before leading you towards his car
* When you’re finally out of earshot, you say
* “You know, I always thought we were the closest of friends” You think he’ll grimace at your teasing but instead he grins.
* “Do you enjoy being the subject of several teenage boys imaginations?”
* “I mean, it’s not-not a little bit flattering.”
* On the drive back to his house Edward takes you through town and points out every mundane landmark like you’re on a safari tour
* “And that is the grocery store I never visit, and next to it is the diner I had to pretend to eat food at during my mandatory “senior breakfast””
* “So what you’re saying is, this is the worlds’ most boring town.”
* “I would say boring adjacent, the town we’ll move to next doesn’t even have a major grocery store”
* He’s definitely talking about Forks.
* You must have killed quite a bit of time with your impromptu tour because when you get to the party it’s in full swing
* You and Edward stand in a corner and play your favorite game
* “Blonde girl in the corner.” He says
* Edward picks someone, and you have to guess what they’re thinking. You’re never right but it’s still funny
* “Hmmmm I’m going to say she’s thinking... ‘This is what all the hype was about? Can’t believe I’m wasting my Saturday night HERE.’”
* He laughs and shakes his head
* “She’s actually thinking about how the object of her affections hasn’t noticed her once, and has been spending all his time with someone else instead.”
* You totally miss the meaningful look Edward gives you.
* You make a face, unrequited love was the worst
* “Well that sucks, I wish there was some way we could help.” Edward only shrugs
* “They’re human problems, for us even if the person we love doesn’t love us back, we just wait a a decade or so, and they usually change their mind.” He grabs your untouched red solo cup
* “I’ll go get us some more drinks.” For a second you wonder if maybe Vampires can drink alcohol, but then you immediately deflate.
* Oh right, the human act, you almost forgot.
* You’re standing by yourself when the “unrequited love” girl from before approaches you, another girl with hair the color of caramel in tow
* “Hey, I haven’t seen you around before, do you got to our school?”
* Any person could see this was a hostile encounter
* anyone except you that is
* “Nah, I’m taking a gap year right now.”
* “Oh?” Miss. Unrequited lights up at that. “Didn’t get into your first choice school?”
* “No my parents died.” You say it causally, but they both freeze at that. So much has happened, colleges and your parents are the last thing in your mind. You notice the reaction though “It’s been a while though, so everything’s fine now”
* You give your best smile and the girl in front of you seemed flustered
* “How do you know Edward?” Miss. Caramel asks, while her friend takes a long sip from her cup.
* “Well- I guess he’s a family friend, but really I met him through Carlisle.”
* “Through Carlisle?
* “Dr. Cullen,” you quickly supply, to them he’s just the local handsome doctor. Not exactly someone who they’re on a first name basis with. “Yeah, Carlisle talked about Edward a lot when I was in the hospital.”
* Before you can scar either of these girls further, Rosalie appears by your side
* “Hey! Glad to see you made it!” She gives you a side hug and turns her amber eyes to the girls in front of you. “Amber, Bethany glad to see you. What are you guys talking about?”
* Both of the girls fall speechless in front of her, probably from her beauty you guess.
* You still get the urge to shield your eyes when you look at Rosalie.
* “Edward.” Rosalie rolls her eyes
* “Of course, the most perfect man alive.” You snort at that.
* “Perfect my ass, I saw him snort drinking yesterday and he sprayed the whole counter top.” Rosalie raises a well groomed eyebrow
* “Really?” A smiles tugging on her lips
* “That’s not even the worst part, do you know he took 43 minutes to clean it up.”
* Rosalie laughs, and the other two look at you with awe.
* “Edward Cullen snorts?” The caramel Coloured hair one, Bethany asks.
* “To be fair I did say a pretty good joke”
* “What was the joke?” Amber asks, and you grin.
* “What did the vampire say to the girl?” They look at each other and shrug
* “What”
* “See you next month” The two girls don’t seem to think it’s good, but Rosalie is dying of laughter
* “He must have hated that!”
* “Oh I’m sure he did, that’s why I said it” Rosalie laughs even harder
* By the time Edward comes back, it’s basically just a two way conversation with you and Rosalie roasting the ever loving crap out of Edward, with two humans eagerly watching
* “One time while we were eating Edward just kept complaining about how “existence is agony and how none of us have a soul” like dude, we’re eating, could you just chill for a second please?” Rosalie says and you laugh
* “I have the perfect Edward impression” you clear your throat and set your face to the best “I’m constipated and existence is agony” face you can manage “I’m an outsider. No one can understand me. No one has thoughts like I do. Existence is agony”
* if Rosalie could die she would have died of laughter, she’s hunched over and every time you think she’ll stop laughing she starts another wave.
* “To be fair, I don’t think anyone has thoughts like mine” You turn to see Edward behind you, he’s actually got an amused smile as he hands you a red solo cup.
* “It’s Henrietta,” he whispers in your ear. “ I figured all the laughing might have made you thirsty”
* “For an outsider like yourself, that’s awfully kind of you.”
* The laughing did make you thirsty, it also explains what took him so long. You wonder if he ran all the way to your house to get you a drink.
* Rosalie doesn’t say anything just grins as she watches you two, Edward’s eyes flick from you to her, and you wonder what he’s experiencing right now
* You’re not going to lie, his narrative of mind reading was your favourite part of midnight sun
* “Do you want to dance?” Well that question came out of nowhere.
* “Sure”
* Queue you and Edward awkwardly waltzing on the makeshift dance floor
* “Who taught you how to waltz?” Edward asks as you step on his feet yet again, you’re glad he’s a vampire and can’t feel pain.
* “You. Right now. I’m learning from the school of life experience.” You grin and he rolls his eyes
* “Here,” he picks you up, and places your feet on top of his. “Better?” You nod and laugh
* “They’re kind of cute right?” Rosalie says to Amber and Bethany, a twinkle in her eyes. Amber sighs.
* “Yeah they are.”
* Rosalie feels kind of bad. She didn’t mean to rub it in her face, but she doesn’t like anyone being mean to you. She already kinda liked you from The game night , and after tonight she REALLY likes you. It’s nice to have someone else on the “roast Edward squad”
* “Oh look, it’s Bradley from the swim team, should we go over and say hi?” Bradly was definitely single, and Rosalie loves playing matchmaker “Sure”
* Edward drives you home at the chaste time of 11:30
* “Did you have a good time tonight?” He asks, walking you to the front door. Ever the gentleman.
* It’s not like a thing alive could hurt you anymore.
* “Yeah it was really fun!” He let’s out a sigh of relief and a nervous smile.
* “That’s good, you’ve been seeming kind of... off lately so I was worried”
* Ah, so he had noticed. You had been feeling off lately. Only four more years with him at most until he moved somewhere far away.
* “Yeah, I’m just a little jealous I guess.”
* “Jealous of what?” His eyebrows thread together. And you sigh.
* “You get to go to college and I can’t.”
* You really are jealous about that, While you’re stuck in the house, Edward will get to move forward and make all sorts of relationships and memories
* His mouth purses, and you feel bad. You shouldn’t have said anything, there’s nothing he can do about it after all.
* “Ah, don’t worry about it, I’m just glad to be here with people who care about me.” That only makes him frown more. But he offers you a small smile.
* “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He says and then he does something really unexpected:
* He kisses your forehead, before retreating back to his car. You watch his car wind away down the circle driveway from the porch. A hand on your forehead where his lips touched and a flutter in your heart.
* Man, Edward was so unintentionally smooth, no wonder Tanya was still hung up over him
* Wait, was Tanya still hung up over him?
* Somehow you found her behavior not consistent with someone with unreciprocated feelings
* The days pass on by, Edward’s around more now because it’s summer break.
* Likewise trips to the Cullen residence are also more frequent because it’s summer break
* You oddly enough spend a lot of time with Rosalie, you mostly roast Edward but occasionally you reminisce about human stuff
* “What do you miss the most?” She asks and you think for a minute
* “Probably Italian food, maybe alcohol” She let’s out a moan
* “Oh my god, how good does mushroom ravioli in a creamy Marsala sauce sound?”
* “Good enough to kill for”
* By extension you also get close to Emmett, but in a totally different way
* “Alright hit me with everything you’ve got!”
* “Uh are you sure about this Emmett?”
* You’re both in a clearing about thirty feet apart
* “Yeah, just show me what you’re made of” He giving you a wicked grin, no doubt glad to have someone new to spar with.
* You shrug, he is asking for it
* He doesn’t even make it a foot forward before he crumples to the ground. You’ve been holding back so long, it almost feels good to not have to contain all your body’s grief
* You reel it back in when he taps out. You expect him to look at you like you’re a monster but he just grins
* “You’re really something else kid”
* You even get close to Esme who assists you in drawing up a schematic for a barn, and Jasper helps you build it.
* “I think the door should go here” he tells you
* “But then it would be facing the fence and that doesn’t seem right”
* He scratches his head and you stare at the architect sketch in your hands
* “It’s supposed to be right here” Alice tells you, already searching through the future for the correct placement.
* And of course you and Edward continue your piano cat and mouse game, where you each start a piece and wait for the other to catch up to your playing.
* Maybe it’s because things are going so well that you can’t help but wonder what went wrong with Tanya and Edward
* So one night, when you’re sitting together in the library, you ask her
* “Tanya why do you hate Edward” She sputters
* “I don’t hate him!” You raise a skeptical eyebrow and she sighs “it’s just- it’s embarrassing !”
* She tells you about how Carlisle had told her about his son, and how he was the last to be without a mate, and was very depressed
* “I thought of it like I was doing a service you know, we would date for some time and have a brighter perspective on this life.”
* You can already guess how this story ends, but you ask “So what happened?” She huffs
* “Well he flat out rejected me, told me I wasn’t his type, can you believe that? A forever 17 year old telling ME I’m not his type.”
* Yeah for a woman like Tanya who was every man’s ultimate fantasy that does seem pretty mortifying
* “Is it-“ you meet her eyes “is it okay that I’m friends with him then?”
* Her eyes soften and she beckons you into a hug
* “Of course it is little one,” she kisses the top of your head “and if it ever happens to grow into more than that that’s okay too.” You wrinkle your nose
* “I wouldn’t bet on that Tanya.” She rubs your shoulder
* “Well you never know, and if that happens, and for some reason he’s lost his mind at tells you you’re not his type don’t take it personally, there’s something seriously wrong with that boy.” You laugh
* The days pass by in a blur.
* Edward starts college studying veterinary science, and every day he comes back and teaches you what he learned
* “Sometimes I feel like I’m getting more out of this than you” he tells you as you do his homework
* “It be like that sometimes”
* You start experimenting with other animals blood, mostly chickens, ducks, and geese.
* You also have a moose now so that’s cool
* After many faithful years Henrietta passes away. You stayed in the barn with her all night, and planted a pine tree over grave.
* “All things die in the end huh?” You whisper as you stand over the first deer you befriended, and Eleazer rubs your shoulder
* “Not us” he whispers
* “Not us” you repeat
* You and Edward are lying next to each other in your bed, both of you pretending to sleep
* “What was it like when you turned?” Edward’s the one break the silence. He always is when you do your dreaming sessions
* “It was... nice” it really was, the venom was warm like a blanket, lulling you into a peaceful last sleep. This surprises him.
* “Are you some kind of masochist?”
* “Well what was it like for you?” You roll your eyes. He goes on a long descriptive tangent, but in short: it was absolute agony.
* “Well that’s weird, I wonder if Alec had some kind of special venom or something.” He flinched at the mention of Alec but doesn’t say anything else.
* The days pass on, just as they always have, but something starts to feel off. Both in your household and in the Cullen’s house. Some sort of tension
* You think about asking Edward or Eleazer about it, but decide against it.
* Maybe you’re just being paranoid
* One day you’re getting blood from the kitchen, when you notice the entire coven is sitting on the kitchen table
* Weird, but maybe they do this all the time and you just never noticed.
* “(Y/N) can you come here for a moment?”
* Well crap
* They all ramble over each other for a few minutes, and you only catch bits and pieces of what they’re saying
* “Everyone here loves you-“
* “It won’t be forever-“
* “Carlisle might even get you a blood bag or two-“
* “Enough!” Tanya roars and immediately the others fall silent, she looks at you with warm eyes and a kind smile
* “(Y/N), the Cullen’s are leaving,” ah, so it’s already time for them to go, Tanya explains how the Cullen’s move around more often than your coven does, on account of Carlisle’s job. Well you knew this was coming. It was nice while it lasted
* “-And that’s why we think you should go with them”
* Wait what.
* “You want me to leave?”
* “No of course not!” Irina shouts, wide eyed, she’s sitting the closest to you. “It’s just-“
* “We see the way you look at Edward,” Eleazer says. Oh not this again, how many times do you have to say it. YOU BOTH ARE JUST FRIENDS.
* “Like you want what he has.” He finishes
* Oh
* “We’re too late in the cycle to send you to school, Irina and Kate have already gone, and it will be another ten years before we decide to move.” Carmen says, her teeth digging into the flesh of her lip. “A lot of things could happen in ten years,”
* The Volturi could want you back on ten years
* “so we think you should go with the Cullen’s and get an education and have a normal life-“
* “Normal-adjacent,” Kate interjects, because life was never going to be completely normal for you ever again. Carmen grins,
* “Normal-adjacent life, you’ll get to have friends, and you could study whatever you want, you don’t have to learn secondhand from Edward.”
* “And you can come back whenever you want!” Kate reassures. “If you decide you don’t like it, and that it’s not what you want, you can always come back, we’ll be right here.”
* They all stumble over each other to reassure you that it’s your choice, and if you decide to stay that’s fine too. But there’s only one question on your mind
* “Do the Cullen’s already know about this?” The table falls silent.
* “Yes, they do.” Tanya says
* “And what do they think about the arrangement?” All eyes trail to Eleazer, so he was the go between for your Covens
* “I think they’re all pretty excited, Carlisle wanted you from the start.”
* Carmen sucks her teeth and lightly slaps him on the arm. “What it’s true, you know Esme’s been cross with him ever since she met them, she wants you too.”
* They’re all looking to you waiting for an answer. You’re not sure what the right thing to do is.
* You’re not stupid, you know things have changed from the original story line, you know the Volturi isn’t going to want Bella as much now that they have you.
* But still... you do want an education, a chance to do everything the way you always imagined
* You also kind of want to see Edward and Bella’s love story play out. Especially now that he’s your friend
* Also you think you should really deter him from watching her sleep, that crap was creepy as hell
* You sigh, there’s really only one choice
* “I’ll go with the Cullens’.”
#twilight#twilight imagines#twilight reader insert#twilight headcanon#twilight imagine#twilight saga#edward cullen x reader#edward cullen imagine#edward cullen#Rosalie cullen#Emmett Cullen#Alice cullen#the cullens#midnight sun#alec volturi#Volturi imagines#superhero—imagines
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flutter
consequences? of her actions? it’s more likely than you think. nace oneshot, post 2x12, speculative fight and feelings. [read on ao3]
She wakes up disoriented. Her brain adjusts to her surroundings—creaky bed, filtered natural light streaming through plastic curtain panes, and faint smells, all mixing awkwardly with the dull neon sign over Gil’s bed.
Gil’s bed. Right. Now she remembers finding herself outside the Bobbseys’ at midnight, unable to stop herself. It feels like Nick all over again, when she buried her feelings in someone else and begged for a distraction from her own brain. But she keeps seeing Ace on that ledge when she closes her eyes, and can’t bring herself to let the thoughts linger.
The bed is empty, cool to the touch where another body should be. He’s been up for a while then, she thinks. Nancy sits up, straining her eyes against the morning light. Gently, an aroma of coffee and eggs wafts into Gil’s room, and she smiles, realizing he must’ve gotten up to make breakfast.
She pulls on her jeans and boots. Gil hadn’t seemed the type to cook a girl breakfast after a booty call, but maybe she’d misjudged him. She drapes her jacket over her arm and follows her nose to the kitchen.
“That smells gr—oh.” Abruptly, Nancy cuts herself off. It’s not Gil by the stove, but Amanda, who also quickly falls silent halfway through a laugh. At the counter, in his lucky pullover and an unbuttoned flamingo shirt, is Ace, who visibly straightens in his seat when he sees her.
“Uh.” Nancy finishes pulling on her jacket, adjusting her hair around the collar. Her neck feels very hot as she puts the pieces of the scenario together. The three of them, all before 8 am, all at the Bobbseys’s. She flashes Amanda an awkward finger gun. “You’re not Gil.”
Amanda smiles back at her sympathetically. “Sorry,” she replies. She glances down at the eggs sizzling quietly in the pan, and then back to Ace. “But I make a much meaner omelet than him anyway. Want one?”
For a long moment, Nancy just stares back at her. Red alarm sirens are ringing in her thoughts, but she’s still settling with the fact that both she and Ace seemingly slept here. “Is…Gil…here?”
“No. He left, about twenty minutes ago,” Ace says, his voice low. Nancy wonders if he always sounds this grumpy in the morning. “Forgot to mention you were here, though.”
Nancy blinks. “He left? Like—left? Is he coming back?”
Amanda turns off the stove and faces her. “He said he got a freelance gig that he couldn’t pass up. Kind of left in a hurry.” With a slight grimace, Amanda sighs. “Nancy, Gil can be…easily distracted. It makes him forgetful, you know? Of his manners, mostly. He doesn’t mean to be.”
Nodding distractedly, Nancy runs her tongue along her teeth. Of course he runs out the day he was supposed to help her out. After a long moment of Amanda and Ace watching her, he clears his throat. “Why? Did you need him or something?”
Ace’s tone is uncharacteristically harsh, and both she and Amanda turn to look at him. After another awkward beat, Nancy says, “Um. Well, he was supposed to help me run a boat over to this beach for the case I’m working on. It’s kind of…a two man job.”
He looks annoyed, but Amanda just smiles at her. “Well, we can help. Right, Ace? It could be fun. I’ve always wanted to go on one of your mystery adventures with you and Nancy,” she adds. Ace glances between the two of them, looking uncomfortable, but finally nods.
“Sure,” he says slowly, rolling his shoulders. “Yeah, we can help.”
“Great,” Amanda says cheerily, and plops the eggs she was cooking onto two plates. “Well, I’m gonna just take a quick shower. You two have these and then we can go!”
She disappears into the back of the trailer, and a few moments later, the sound of running water filters across the room. By the time Nancy glances back at Ace, he’s nearly finished eating the eggs before him, almost as if stuffing his face will keep him from talking to her.
Nancy takes a small bite of the eggs, chewing as painfully slow as she can. “This is good, actually. Maybe Amanda wants Grant’s old job. We still kinda need a line cook.” At the mention of his brother, Ace finally meets her eye. He doesn’t say anything, though—but she notes that he hasn’t left either. Attempting to fill the awkward silence, Nancy pushes on. “You know, I think this is the longest time you’ve been in a room with me since he left.”
“Yeah,” Ace sighs, and averts her look. “I’ve been busy.”
“Really?” She replies, skeptically. “Because it kind of seems like you’ve been avoiding me. Like, I don’t know, you’re mad at me?”
He glances at her again, like he’s considering his words. “Maybe I am.”
Nancy puts down her fork. She’d known this was coming, and hoped it wasn’t. Her hands slide over her face. “I know, I know, this is about the list of names. But…it was an emergency, Ace. I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t let you—” She drops her hands from her eyes. “And—and anyway, I fixed it!”
“Yeah, you fixed it with Celia Hudson,” Ace replies curtly, getting to his feet. His voice rises. “You traded the list for letting a murderer get away with killing 12 people on that ship. You didn’t fix anything, Nancy, you just moved it to another place! You made me responsible for you doing—for those 12 lives instead!”
For a moment, chest heaving, she stares at him. “No,” she says finally, finding a level in her tone. “I made me responsible for the Bonny Scot. Not you. And I will find another way to bring Everett to justice, okay? There’s always another wa—”
“What if there isn’t, Nancy?” He shakes his head, pacing towards her. “Not everything is a puzzle you can just solve, okay? What if he gets away with this and hurts someone else? We know he will. And you’ll get pulled in deeper with the Hudsons. And when that happens—that’s—that’s on me.”
“Then it’s my burden, Ace!” They’re practically shouting now. Dimly, she hopes Amanda can’t hear this through the shower. “You’re right, Ace, okay, I did trade your life for the witnesses and then I traded the witnesses for the Bonny Scot.I made a necessary calculation in a crappy situation. But I did it, not you!”
“For me!” He yells back. She’s not sure she’s ever heard his voice this loud; she wasn’t sure his vocal cords could physically reach this decibel. He exhales, deflating and running his hands through his hair. “It was… a total Slytherin move, Nancy. Okay? Just…admit you didn’t think it through.”
She scoffs, throwing her head back. “Well, that’s rich.”
Hands on his hips, he glowers at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“How many federal databases have you hacked into by now, Ace?” She exclaims, throwing her arms out. “I think I stopped counting after you broke my dad out of prison!”
“That was different,” he mumbles. “That was an—”
“Emergency,” she finishes flatly, raising her eyebrows.
Ace purses his lips, and he finally seems somewhat calmed. “Your dad’s life was in imminent danger. I didn’t risk anyone else in the process. But I told you, Nance, at the paper mill. I told you I didn’t want to be responsible for anyone else’s life. ”
“Well, I was responsible for yours,” she replies softly, defeated. He stares at her, chest heaving. “And…I told you, I couldn’t lose you.”
He still doesn’t say anything, but a look passes between them. Her heart flutters so madly against her ribcage she’s afraid he might hear it. She’s reminded of that night after the wraith in the woods, when he’d told her something very similar. He didn’t want to lose her, then. She wonders if he’s thinking the same.
There’s a long moment of silence.
Finally, she nods, and her hand finds itself home on his arm. “I’m sorry I made you feel responsible for the Bonny Scot, Ace, I really am. But…even if you’re right, and I can’t find another solution, then…it’s still my fault. Not yours. It’s my problem, my burden, okay? Please, Ace. I can’t have you mad at me. I can’t…focus when you are. I need you on my team.”
When she meets his eye again, his expression has softened. She can tell the fight has gone out of him. Eyebrows knitted, he says, “No.” Her face falls, but then he continues. “I’m a Hero of Horseshoe Bay too, you know. You shouldn’t have to shoulder it all alone.”
“Yeah, well,” she says, before she can plan otherwise, and steps back from him. She lets out a self-deprecating sound from the back of her throat, thinking of how Gil abandoned her the night after her promised to help. She thinks of Owen Marvin, dead because of her. She thinks of Nick, who was right to have ended things with her. Finally, and bitterly, her thoughts jump to how happy Amanda and Ace had seemed before she walked in. “I’m used to alone.”
His face crumples and he opens his mouth, but whatever Ace is about to say, she’ll never know. Amanda has emerged from the back of the trailer, toweling off her damp hair and already dressed. “Okay, I’m ready,” Amanda says, striding towards them. She pulls to a stop after a moment, having picked up on the strange energy lingering in her kitchen.
Ace is still looking at her with an expression she can’t—won’t—name. If she had to try, it might be pity, or a kinder version of it. She inexplicably feels like crying, but swallows it, unwilling to feel weak in front of Ace’s girlfriend.
“Everything okay?” Amanda asks gently, and Nancy can’t help but think, that’s why Ace likes her. She’s sweet. Her heart squeezes again. Don’t think about it.
Exhaling, Ace nods at Amanda, and then back to Nancy. “Yeah. We’re okay.”
She hopes it’s true.
#nace#nancy x ace#ace cw#nancy drew cw#nancy drew#can someone tell me the proper tags pls#ace comma copyright pending#<- will remain until public domain lmao#nancy drew spoilers#fics#drabbles#god i forgot how much wanting reviews and validation SUCKS#lmao#but#i got a bug
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title: ruin the mob
ship: iwaizumi x fem!reader (afab!reader)
genre: yakuza x coffee shop au
cw: blood, guns, violence, potential assault, face sitting, degradation, daddy kink. cute nicknames for the reader. unprotected sex. (wrap it up folks.)
note: this is just part one. There will be a part two eventually. (oops.)
"Hajime..."
The wound won't stop bleeding. You can feel your consciousness slipping. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. Dummy. Tsubaki?!" He practically yells as he presses his steady hands to the wound.
"No, no, no."
How had you gotten here?
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Six months earlier.
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Iwaizumi ran his hand through his spikey locks as he stared at the image on his phone. A pretty girl with her hair pulled up and off her neck. The smile on her face reaches her eyes. She's mid-laugh this shot. "This is Ushijima's sister. She has no idea, though. She's his half-sister. Same father, different last name." Matsukawa says as he reads over the information on the laptop in front of him.
"She's just a girl. What did she do?" Hanamaki spits as he takes apart his gun and starts cleaning it. He's right in a way. You had just turned 29 years old. The smile on your face made Iwaizumi feel old. He had just turned 35, but he couldn't remember the last time he smiled like that.
"So, are we taking her hostage? Or..."
"Killing her. Little Cutie has a price on her head, it seems." Oikawa interrupted him, kicking his feet up onto the table. "It's a hefty one. Otherwise, I wouldn't have us take the job. Iwaizumi, you're the best, so it's on you."
"Tch. Fine." Iwaizumi had a weird rumble in his chest. What had you seen to get you on their radar? Or who had you spoken to? "She works for a coffee shop, yeah? This should be easy."
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Usually, whenever Iwaizumi Hajime got a job, he'd look over the provided profile and then take out the contract. Something about this one set him off. You probably had no idea you'd seen something. You looked like the type that would go to the cops right away if you'd seen something terrible. So clearly, to you, it was normal. He stepped onto another roof, watching you as you turned down an alleyway stepping toward the red light district. Now, this didn't make sense. This wasn't on his profile of you—a barista working her way through graduate school with no contact with your father. In fact, you didn't seem to have any family contact. He watched as you slipped into the red light coffee shop. Struck with the realization that you were exactly like your profile after all. You were setting the coffee in front of a customer when he walked into the shop. "Welcome. I'll be right there in a moment."
There's no line, so he moves to stand at the counter. He takes in your appearance over his shoulder. Yep, he can see Ushijima in your eyes. It's the shape and softness of your features that set the two of you apart. Not to mention your body. The curve of your breast visible beneath the black apron. The jeans you'd wiggled your way in were form-fitting. Your shirt was a half-buttoned black dress shirt. Just formal enough that you looked professional, but still, the cleavage made it sexy. Working in the red light district, you seemed to pick up something from the girls that frequented your establishment. You step back around the counter before grinning at the man in front of you.
“How can I help you today?”
Your voice is chipper as you lean against the countertop. You take in the appearance of the man in front of you. The all-black tech wear was something you were familiar with. There was a silver earring in his ear, and you could see a tattoo peeking up past his coat as you observed him. Fuck. He was your type. Probably covered in tattoos underneath the jacket on his frame. He was built too. Fuck.
But if he was in the red light district, you knew better. He was one of four things, a pimp, a john, a yakuza, or an escort. From the looks of him, you couldn't help but think that he was too pretty to be a pimp, so either he was getting some, or he was just a part of a crew. You rested your hip against the countertop as the man before you stared up at the menu above your head.
"Large coffee, black, and a small cup of ice water."
"Sure."
You turn to get his coffee and find him pulling out cash to pay. "Nope. You're new around here. On the house tonight. If I see you again, then I'll make you pay." You wink as you pass him the coffee, then move down to grab an ice cup. His eyes widen as you clear the total and smile again. "Usually, I hear a thank you for that."
"That's not a way to run a business..."
You pass the man the water before shrugging. "It's a cup of coffee; I sell more than I give away. Stand in front of me any longer, and I'll make you pay." He picked up the coffee, and the water moving over to the bar area. You could see the scowl on his face, though. Had you surprised him? Hm.
Hajime couldn't help but stare at the coffee cup with anger. Her blood would be on his hands, and she had given him free coffee... Was it foolish of him to think that perhaps whoever put a hit out on you was wrong? Probably. He couldn't help it, though. He watched you as you worked, made fresh coffee, dumped the dregs of the old one. Looked up at the door when the bell rang. Gave a smile to the old man in front of you and smiled that same smile at the gangster that crossed your threshold. You were glancing at the clock before throwing him what you thought was a subtle glance.
Hajime was nursing that same cup of now cold coffee three hours later. You two were alone in the shop; you were about to say something when the bell above the door rang, and your face turned cold. It was instantaneous the shift in the air.
"Hey, Pet." The man who entered called out with a grin. "Thought over my offer?" He lifts his still-lit cigarette to his lips, a smirk curling upon his lips. "This place really could use the protection, and... You'd make a lot more money."
"Listen, Futakuchi. You're great, and I even let you smoke in here when the sign says no smoking. But I'm not interested in being one of your girls, or protection for the shop. We manage fine, thanks." You turn your back to the man lifting a heavy pot of coffee to dump it out for the night. "I'm closing up for the night. Please leave, Futakuchi."
"What about that guy?"
The brown-haired gangster pointed at Iwaizumi, who offered you a smile as if he was willing to play along if need be. "He's my new employee... Now please leave." You glance over at Iwaizumi, who stands to his full height; he was glad that he had grown from his childhood. Now standing at 6'0, he was taller than the other man by centimeters, but it was enough. He shrugged off his coat, the tattoos along his arms finally visible. The brown-haired man had to know what they meant.
The Seijoh Syndicate was infamous. The traditional Japanese style, mixed with a floral and dragon motif... It worked for him. You admired for a moment before you cleared your throat and tossed Iwaizumi the keys for extra measure, "Lock the door after him, would you?" You noticed the way his muscles rippled as he nodded, "Well. The lady did say to leave." Futakuchi crushed his cigarette under his boot before turning around, "I'll be back, Y/N. Maybe next time, you'll be kinder."
"Doubt it!"
You called as Iwaizumi locked the door, and you clutched the edge of the countertop in front of you. "I... I can't thank you enough for helping me out. I'm sorry for getting you roped into this. Um. Thank you..."
"Iwaizumi Hajime." What a mistake that was for him to tell you and a way to identify him, but he did it.
"Thank you, Iwaizumi. You honestly saved me from having to be really aggressive with him. Ever since I opened this place, he's been trying to get in my pants." You take a heavy pot of coffee off the burner before moving to dump it in the sink.
"How did you know that you could trust me to play along with you?" Iwaizumi asked gruffly, settling back into the seat at the bar. When you shrugged, "I didn't. But I hoped that you would. If you wait for me to finish up, I'll split the tips with you for your help. I just don't trust that he's gone." Iwaizumi gave you another nod before siping on his cold coffee. Even cold, it tasted good. Weird. Must be the beans she used. He watched as you locked up the safe for the night and then stood up.
Your head could nestle just under his chin if he so wished it. He didn't, but you could. As you grabbed your bag and handed him his portion of the tips, you grinned. "You know, I understand you might not need the job, but if you wanted a position here..."
He cut you off before you could finish. "I don't. You shouldn't be so generous. Someone will one day take advantage of that kindness." Damn it... It was him. Iwaizumi realized. He would be the one because he was going to have to kill you eventually. You watched as the man grabbed his coat and left the shop. You turned on the alarm then stepped out into the back alley behind your shop.
You were walking home, your keys stuck between your fingers when you felt it. The shift in the wind, someone was following you. When they struck, you'd thought you'd be ready, but your head was pushed against the brick, and the hand that you had your keys in was twisted behind your back sharply. "Sh, Pet. I just... I don't think you're safe working with that guy. Nor do I think you're safe on your own." The mouth of the man who had been trying his damndest to get with you found our neck. He was pushing you against the wall with his body weight and one hand. His other was tracing the waist of your jeans. You thought that if anything like this was to ever happen to you, you'd struggle or something, but you froze.
He pulled your arm a little harder, causing you to yelp. "Let her go." There's a click behind you, and your eyes find the green ones of Iwaizumi. The gun in his hands looks huge; you shrink into yourself when Futakuchi lets you go. "Hey man... Look, I let her go. Whatever, Y/N. If this is who you're with now, I'm out. Fucking bitch." Iwaizumi raises his arm, shooting into the sky, causing you to flinch, and the man who was now cursing your existence to scrambles away.
You had shrunken in on yourself when you felt a hand press against your forehead. "You okay? Let me help you home." You clung to him and directed the man who saved you from another to your home. What a fool you were. You had no idea what he was sent to do. As you pressed your key into the door, you looked up at the man, "Can I repay you somehow?"
"Don't be so kind. You just saw what happens when someone wants to take advantage of that kindness. Next time I won't be there. So... No. Go take a shower and eat something. Good night, Dummy."
You were about to tell him not to call you that, but exhaustion took over, and you just slipped inside your apartment instead. Meanwhile, Iwaizumi was documenting the exits and entrances around your place. God damnit. Taking you out could be easy if you weren't so... Good.
This was a bad hit.
Whoever had it out for you had it for the wrong reasons.
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It went on like this for five weeks. Iwaizumi would show up three hours before closing, hang out in your coffee shop and then walk you home. You had gotten to know bits and pieces of him too, and he had done the same with you.
One night it's the two of you left in the store, locked up for the night. You weren't paying him any attention when he brushed your hair out of your face a bit gentler than you thought Iwaizumi would be, making you drop the peach scone you were bagging up for the night. "Fuck!"
He's laughing, doubled over, clutching his stomach as you smack his arm. "That's what gets you to swear, Tsubaki? I was gentle. What would you do if I wasn't?" The tension is right there between the two of you. "Shut up, you jerk." You reach for your scone to throw it away when you noticed he hadn't stepped away or gone back to his coffee. "Come driving with me, Tsubaki. It's a nice night." Your eyes met his before you nodded, fiddling with the keys in your hands, "Sure. I'm almost done..."
You finished the closing tasks, turned off the lights around the store, pushed the money through the red door on the safe, and finally set the alarm for the night. Iwaizumi was smoking a cigarette outside the door when you slipped out of the shop. "Okay, I'm ready." He took in your appearance for a moment. You wore a black skirt today, and the thin black top left little to the imagination. God, he liked you. It still lingered in his mind; he was supposed to kill you.
Oikawa had gotten annoyed at him for not completing the job weeks ago, but... Hajime didn't give a fuck. He had spent time with you, and feelings developed from there. You were kind. You cared about everyone who came into your store equally. You'd close shop if a woman came in after being beaten by a John. When a young man came in wounded, you dropped everything to patch him up. You were a safe haven for women and gangsters alike. They knew they could come to you for a place to hide. He found himself unable to kill you. Whoever had put the hit out was wrong. He'd find them first.
You had no idea the thoughts that brewed in the spiky-haired man's head. He held the door open for you to slip in, then slipped inside himself and started driving.
The road turned to gravel as he drove into the hills of the prefecture. Your hand rested against the edge of your skirt, nerves making them shake a little. He turned his wrist up on the gear shift. "If you need to hold my hand or something." Instantly, you latched on to it, bringing it over to your lap, and grinned. The hitman couldn't help himself. He'd gone soft for you... His hand gripped your back. You relaxed, and eventually, your hand slipped out of his, but his hand didn't move from your thigh, gripping it slightly.
Finally, he stopped at a spot overlooking the city. It was secluded and beautiful tonight. His hand moved down your leg to your knee before moving back up gently, "I like you, Tsubaki. You know that, right?"
"I had an inkling. Does this mean I get to call you Hajime now?" You turn toward him full-body, shifting so your back was against the passenger side door, and his hand came up to rest on the back of your seat. "I like you too. I mean, I have for a while, and not just because you saved me before." You fiddled with your fingers, a look of shock coming over your face when Iwaizumi reached for your hand.
He lifted your right hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of your wrist, making you breathe out sharply. His green eyes traced your frame and finally found your face. "Can I kiss you?" The question hit your ears, and before your brain could stop you, you leaned forward to capture his lips in a kiss.
The kiss is hungry and rough. Teeth were clashing together as you finally break that tension you had both had between you two. You reached up to tug his hair, and you could feel his growl against your lips. "Fuck."
The windows fogged before you realized it, and he was pushing you against them, his hand wrapping around your neck to pull you closer to him. He was rough, but god did it feel good. His teeth tug at your lip before whispering, "Can I touch you, Tsubaki?" He presses his forehead against yours, his fingers tangled in your hair as you catch your breath.
"Yes. Touch me, Haji. Please."
The moment the please leaves your lips, he feels feral. His name dies on your lips as he palms a breast with one hand and slips the other one up your skirt resting on your thigh. The kiss was deepening as he swipes his tongue along the seam of your lips. Your gasp was all he needed. His hand moves to your cloth-covered cunt, before pulling back to whisper, "I want to fucking hear you moan."
And moan into his mouth you did. Gasping as he played with your clothed breasts, you wanted more.
The man above you is grinding his hip against your calf as he cages you in against the passenger seat. "Please, don't tease, please." You whisper as the kiss breaks, and he leans back to admire you for a moment. You're his prey here. With his big hands, he could snap your neck and be done with the job. Or he could give you pleasure. His hand lingering on your breast and the other between your legs told him what he wanted to do. He wanted to fuck you. Wanted to ruin you.
The hand between your legs found your hip clutching it slightly. "I want you. But I want it to be special. We shouldn't do this here." You let out a whine that he knew would be his undoing. "Hajime... I want to feel you inside of me. We can go back to my place if you want a bed. I just... Fuck me, tonight."
"Dummy." Iwaizumi whispered against your temple before capturing your lips against his. He slides his hand down to your cunt again. "I know how to satisfy you for now, at least until we get to your place and we make some choices." His large fingers brush against your panties before pushing the fabric to the side. He swallows your moans with kisses as he rubs your clit with his middle finger. He slides that same finger down until he gets to your center and pushes inside of you.
Your hips jolt, and you gasp as his mouth makes its way down your neck, leaving marks as he goes. "More, please. Hajime. Please."
He drives his middle finger into your cunt, grinning at the gasp that chokes from your lips. "Such a greedy little dummy." He adds another finger before he glances down to marvel at the way you suck his fingers in. The dirty and lewd noises were coming from your mouth as he fingers you. "This hand of mine taking you out? Making you dumb? Sweet, sweet little one." He feels your body shake involuntarily, your head rolling backward.
"That's it, baby. Let it go. Cum for me."
Your thighs are shaking as you cum with a gasp, his hand tightening on your throat to control the blood flow and how you were feeling. It was so good that a second one washed over you quickly.
Your vision finally colors again, and you watch him as he lifts his hand to his mouth, sticking each finger in one by one. "You taste so good, Tsubaki. Like my favorite candy."
You roll your eyes at him before shifting to press your body against the passenger side door. "Just drive to my place, and don't make illusions to me tasting like candy..." Iwaizumi shifted gears before chuckling. "I could say something else, but I thought candy suited you. You're sweet. I liked it. And so did you if the way you came was any indication."
The drive went on like that, him teasing you and you bantering it right back to him. When you arrived at your apartment, you instantly felt shy. Your state radiated off of you in waves as you stared up at the tall building. Iwaizumi's hand reached over to squeeze your thigh. "We don't have to do this tonight... I got you off; that’s what I wanted to do."
You looked up at him shaking your head before reaching for his hand and lacing his fingers with yours. "Come inside; I’ll get you some tea."
His voice reverberated in your brain as you both got out of the car, "I don't want tea, Tsubaki." I want you. Those words are unspoken as you both approach your door from the confined space of the elevator.
You fumbled with the keys, dropping them than picking them up again. Iwaizumi's hand rests on the small of your back to soothe your thoughts. "Do I make you anxious? It's not my goal, dummy." He's gentle as he brushes your cheek with careful fingers. He's treating you like glass as you both enter the apartment. Shoes fall off feet quickly as soon as the door closes.
You step backward into your apartment, leading him down the short hallway to your bedroom. He follows his hand resting on your shoulder, taking in the ease of your clothes. "God, you're so beautiful." He pushed your shoulder strap down your arm smiling as your tank top fell quickly. Your overshirt was already discarded when you entered your apartment. Your knees hit the bed, and you reach for his long sleeve shirt. "It's not fair if I get naked first, Hajime."
He pulls the shirt over his head with one arm in a swift movement and lets it fall to the floor. He steps closer so that his body can cage yours in against the bed. His knees were nudging your own apart slightly. "We're nowhere near even, Peaches."
Your fingers trace the patterns of his tattoos, running up his arms and across his chest. Iwaizumi lets you touch him like this, a cool grin curling upon his lips. "You like them?" Your fingers find a dragon wrapped in ivy; the teal creature struggles to the sky on his right arm. Tsubaki flowers bloom across his pec then the more traditional Yakuza tattoos catch your eye. You knew he was a part of a gang, but this was so detailed. You press your mouth to the flowers and nod. "They are beautiful. You are beautiful, Ha-" He cuts you off, catching your mouth with his and kissing you deeply.
The sensuality of the kiss makes your back arch practically into him. When you broke it to breathe, he's smiling down at you brushing your hair back with such careful calloused hands. "No one has ever called me beautiful before, Tsubaki-chan." He nibbles your bottom lip before lifting a hand to your chest. "Can I take all this off you? I want you."
There were moments of softness as your clothes fell away to skin. Iwaizumi’s rough hands roaming gently down your body until he got to your cunt again. You breathed in sharply as he touched you and felt your body react and arch toward him. "Hajime." You moaned as he captured your lips and reached for your hand to place it on his thick considerable cock.
Your delicate fingers wrapping around him caused his breath to catch in his throat. "Fuck, dummy."
You stroked him gently, rubbing your thumb over the slit on his cock as you did so. He caged you in from above as your feather-light touch caused a soft moan to escape his lips.
He hisses through his teeth as your foreheads touch, and you stroke him, your hand tightening a bit as you move it. "Tsubaki..." He whispers against your skin, dropping kisses against your shoulders, "That sweet hand of yours, it probably doesn't feel as good as your cunt. I want to do something for you, though."
He pulls you with him and rolls onto his back. He pulls your hips to his face roughly, his large hands cupping your ass as he did so. "I'll make you feel good, dummy. Just sit still and enjoy the ride." His teeth nicked your thighs as he pulls you closer to his mouth. "Hajime! Hey, wait. I don't want you to get hurt by me." He looked up at you from between your legs; he’s practically salivating as he says. "Oh, you little dummy. You won't hurt me. I want to make you feel good." He pressed his face to your center, smirking when he felt your thighs clench under his hands. "Sensitive, huh?" You squeal a little bit as he buries his face between your thighs.
You're drenched, and his tongue has you fisting his hair with the first stroke. He speaks against your cunt, something you can't quite hear, but it makes your body vibrate, "Mine." His fingers spread you wide tentative licks against everywhere but where you want him. He's not gentle. He eats you out like a starving man. Getting lost in your taste. You gasp and whine as your body arches against him. His nose brushes against your clit, and your nails dig into his arms. Fingers against the inked limbs.
You're gushing against his mouth as he tugs you against his face more. He hummed against your clit, smirking as your body arches and your full weight finally rests on his face. His tongue flattens against your cunt, as he finally lets his the fingers of his right-hand slip inside of you. "Cum, Tsubaki. Cum for me."
He sucks against your clit, his teeth grazing against it slightly. You gasped, hips bucking slightly. He chuckles as you tug his hair, "Hajime, I..." You came hard thighs locking around his ears as your body falls to his face. You're trying to catch your breath, body folding to the pillow. Hajime slips out from under you, rolling you over and pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. "You okay there, Peaches? You taste so good. I couldn't help myself." He reached for your cheek brushing your hair away from your face gently. "Such a pretty little thing."
Your fingers brush against his inked arms and chest softly. "Did these hurt?" You ask as you catch your breath. He doesn't seem as though he's going to move forward tonight. He's made you cum. It was all he wanted today unless you were up for more. "They hurt like hell. Mat- uh, my tattoo artist has a heavy hand." You trace the dragon as it rolls up his shoulder. "So... Now what?"
Iwaizumi rolls on top of you, nipping your neck, his sharp teeth making you jump. "Now, I'll fuck you. I'll fucking ruin you for anyone else." He looks up at you before taking your chin in his hands. "If you don't want this, let me know. We can stop right now." You leaned forward to catch his mouth, kissing him mid-sentence. "Fuck me, Hajime."
He groans against your mouth, moving to pin you against the bed. A growl slipped from his lips as he pressed you against the bed, he pushed his pants down and his boxers following as well. His cock bounced against his stomach, well-hung; you couldn't help but lick your lips. You noticed more tattoos that traveled down his legs as well. His golden skin is covered in beautiful black ink.
"You're beautiful." You whispered. Iwaizumi reaches for your hand before kissing the inside of your wrist. "You are. Now, lay back for me." You do so, and his body covers yours. He reaches between your legs, grinning down at you, "Such a wet little slut." He made sure to look into your eyes when he degraded you. He was checking to see if this was okay. "Please. Daddy..." His mouth dives into yours, his tongue licking generously into your lips. He lines his cock up to your entrance before pushing inside of you.
A whine escapes your lips. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, dummy. You feel so fucking good." You clutch his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. "Fucking hell." He caught your lips before pushing into your insides more. He bottomed out finally, your walls fluttering around him. Your plush velvet walls fluttered while he lifted his eyes to meet your own. "Are you cumming again? You're so tight." Spots developed in your vision as he ruts into you. His hips grind against your own, the angle of him lifting your hips, but pressing your chest down slightly to the bed made your back arch.
"Harder. Fuck me harder, Hajime."
His hand slips up your chest to your throat, wrapping it around it as he lowered his body to yours, his mouth against your ear. "You got it." He sets a rough pace, his hand squeezing around your neck to control the way your body felt for him. "So fucking tight." He groans as he shifts your hips to change the angle again. You cry out loudly as he continues to rut against you. The head of his cock nudges your cervix entrance, and you arch, a whine escaping your lips. He was stretching you out in the best ways; your entire body arches as you cum unexpectedly, eyes widening as he meets your gaze.
"Came already? Pretty slut. Daddy's turn."
He kisses your mouth before rolling you over, pressing his chest to your back as he presses inside of you again. You’re sensitive from your orgasm and fluttering around him again. He grins against your shoulder before moving his hips roughly against yours; his right hand slides from your hip to your mouth, right hand, and sticking two fingers between your lips, he grins. "Fuck, you're gorgeous like this. All fucked out on my cock. Your mouth open like this. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." He starts pulling his fingers from your lips and finding your clit to make you cum again.
He drives your head into the mattress, and you gasp the angle changes again. "Where do you want me to cum, Dummy?"
"Inside. Please, Daddy."
His green eyes met yours as you spoke, begging him to cum inside. He grabs you by the neck, pulling you up against his chest, and presses his mouth against your ear. "That's it, baby. That's it, so tight." As you cum again, he follows, groaning as he does. "Fuck, what a good girl. Good fucking girl." He presses kisses to your shoulders as your body collapses bonelessly in Hajime's arms. He gently lets your body move to the bed. He brushes a hand through your hair as he pulls out and watches as his cum slips out of your cunt slowly. He pushes it back in with his fingers before looking up at your face. "Let me clean you up and get you some water."
You groan softly before nodding. "Maybe two cups of water. Hajime, I don't think anyone's ever..." He grinned, pressing a kiss to your fingers. "I can tell. I'll be back. Towels?"
"The linen closet is outside the door. My cups are above the sink. Thank you."
Hajime leaves the room to grab what he needs to clean you up. Meanwhile, you sigh, trying to relax now that your sexual libido's been satiated. It was then you heard his phone go off—the ring tone indicating a text message. You reached for it, surprised when it opens up right away.
shittykawa: Well, is the job done?
Your eyes widen, quickly placing the phone back, unsure as to what he was talking about, but whatever it was, you didn't need to get involved. Hajime came back into the room, moving the damp towel up to your leg while holding a glass toward you in the other. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Hey, I think your phone went off." He continued cleaning you off, reaching for the object with a frown. "Shittykawa, it's not important. Now, do you want me to stay tonight?"
"Yes."
“Okay, I’ll be right back.” He kisses your cheek gently before grabbing his phone and getting up from the bed. You fell into a deep sleep as you waited for him to come back. Meanwhile, Iwaizumi stared out the window in your living room, calling Oikawa quickly. “Pick up, pick up.”
“Iwa-chan, what the fuck are you doing? Why isn’t she dead yet?”
“Listen, Shittykawa. It’s a bad hit. I’m going to kill whoever put it out on here. She’s an asset to the red light society.”
“Are you blinded by pussy? Iwa-chan. She’s Ushijima’s sister. She’s collateral for him. The guy who put the hit out wouldn’t be wrong.”
“Why?”
“Because the amount of money we were paid wasn’t anything to sneeze at. Look, if you don’t kill her, another team might.”
“I don’t care. It’s a bad hit, Tōru. Please.”
“Fuck, you slept with her. Fine… We’ll come up with something… Fuck, Hajime. If she gets you killed, I’ll kill her myself.”
“She won’t. Now, good night…”
“Good night. Enjoy your fucking fuck.”
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No time to die - part 1/2
->part 2
author's note: so this is a piece I started writing when I got bored in a family gathering like two years ago, and I rewrote it recently. This is the first part and I haven't finished editing the rest but I estimate that there would be one or two more parts. The story is about two high school friends that meet after five years of having no contact with each other and their confrontation. Also the name is inspired by the song with the same name by Billie Eilish 'cause I was listening to it while writing a part of this and the song really suits the relationship between the characters.
~1800 words
I’m feeling a burning ache in my abdomen, and my mind is full of different scenarios that this could lead to, one worse that the other. What if I call an ambulance? I answer myself within a fraction of a second that it wouldn’t lead to pleasant things though the alternative which is bleeding to death isn’t ideal either. So just when I’ve finally convinced myself to pick up the phone and call an ambulance before I pass out, a name crosses my mind. It’s the best and the worst thing that I can do at the same time, but well sometimes your survival instincts would take over your overthinking abilities, no matter how strong they are. And despite all my hesitation, I know the number by heart.
She picks up the phone after few rings, “Hello?”, I’m a bit thrown off by how her voice is the same but her tone is different from the last time I’ve heard her, “Hi”, my voice shakes and I don’t know if it’s from the injury or hearing her voice again. “Riley? Is that you?”, somehow she could recognize me from just that one word and at least her tone is less formal now. “Yeah it’s me, listen I wanted to ask if you could come here now if you can, but it’s totally fine if you can’t make it.” Maybe it’s the shock of hearing someone from your past, or my shaky voice that she agrees to come without any other questions and I tell her my address in the calmest pace I can.
Until she arrives I spend my time overthinking on how bad of an idea it was to call her, and why would she even bother herself with my problems anymore, like who in their right mind would hurry in the middle of the night to heal someone from their past that they tried so hard to abandon. But careful knocks on the door save me from my thoughts. I open the door and for a moment think that the option of bleeding to death at least could’ve saved me from the awkwardness of this, before I manage to say “Thank you so much for coming, I really didn’t want to trouble you”, she replies “Not that I love getting surprise calls at midnight but what’s the occasion?” and then she takes a look at me with her perfect hazel eyes and sees it, the blood soaking my shirt and says “holy fuck Ri, what did… what happen- it doesn’t matter now”
It takes her only few moments to get into her other sleeve, the doctor she was trained to be, giving orders and analyzing the situation, only stopping once to curse me under her breath that I should’ve told her to bring her medical stuff and that I’m a lucky bastard that she didn’t come totally unprepared. Then her inner doctor takes charge completely. I tell myself maybe outer, you know it’s who she is now, heal first talk later that’s what she does.
“Take your shirt off”, I obey without making a snarky comment because even I can tell it would be inappropriate. I can’t really describe the process of her stitching me up, because I’ve never been a big fan of surgeries to the point I even skip them when they come up in movies, and maybe beside how pain makes everything hazy, I can’t wrap my head around the idea of her hands on me.
When it’s done she gives me some final instructions and tells me to don’t move from where I’m sitting for at least half an hour. Then standing in front of me without taking a step, she looks at her watch and her gaze lingers to the door and I know she’s thinking about leaving, but decides against it, at least for now.
“So are you gonna tell me how this happened?”, she asks gesturing towards my wound that is now stitched and bandaged. I guess I’m too exhausted for anything but the truth so I say “I was working on a case, and it didn’t end well.” She glares at me, “Well I can see that clearly, but how did it turn that way?”, “my client was a small business going to court against a big company, I had some dirty things on them but they weren’t enough proof so I was looking for more and they sent someone to scare me off I think, but um I tried to resist and it escalated quickly and I got a nice killer knife wound.” “It wasn’t fatal,” she says, “What?” I reply a bit shocked, “I said it wasn’t fatal, the knife didn’t go that deep, what? You thought I could fix a fatal cut with couple of stiches?” to that I mumble that I really trust her abilities and she rolls her eyes. I think at this point we’re past the formal greetings and small talks and now that the crisis is over she seems done with my shit so she continues “So you’ve finally fulfilled your dreams and became the woman you’ve always aspired to be, a detective/lawyer hunting down bad guys and giving them what they deserve” she doesn’t even try to hide the bitterness in her voice, and so if we’re going there now, I won’t try to hide it from mine either, “And you’ve became a doctor, a life you have dreamed of from the beginning, never even thinking to be anything else.”
She sighs and drops to the couch in front of me, “So this is the time that you’ve finally decided to talk about it.” It doesn’t sound like a question, more like a statement. Maybe being in pain and exhausted sharpens your edges and makes the things you’ve hidden carefully to snap free because I can’t hold back when I say: “Says the one who just abandoned me overnight and decided to part ways forever without even a heads up.” The thing is I’ve imagined having this conversation so many times in so many different situations, that it actually happening doesn’t feel real, it feels like another one of those fantasies in my head except she is really here now, and my pulse is betraying me by beating so damn fast.
“I didn’t abandon you, If I had you’d still be bleeding.” And a part of me wants to just accept that and move on and embrace her, because I’ve missed her, hell I’ve missed her so much I want to hug her and never let go, and we have a lot to catch up on too, five years worth of memories. Five years that we were no more than outside observers in each other's lives, but the stronger part, the part that’s been hurting ever since wants to have this conversation, needs to have this conversation or else I would never stop imagining it in my head.
“Well maybe our definition of abandonment is a bit different, ‘cause changing your life course and treating me like a stranger and pretending like all our planning and dreaming for future never happened sure as hell fits in mine.”
“I never treated you like a stranger, you were the one who decided to not talk to me and have anything to do with me anymore and cut contact completely”
“Because I couldn’t do it like that anymore, like I was just another one in your new class, as if we didn’t have history, like what we had wasn’t something more. We used to joke about how disconnected we felt from them, not because we hated them because we were different, or at least I thought you were.”
“People change Riley.”
And for a few moments neither of us backfires anything else to the other, and my mind finds time to wonder for the thousandth time why we didn’t even call each other all these years. But well one of the things that made us close at first was how stubborn we were. I remember clearly when there was a debate competition in school and we were a team and crashed the whole thing. Beside our passion for the matter we were unstoppable, to the point that each match ended to the other team being like “dear god just let it go it’s over”, and remembering those days even now in the midst of this makes me a little calmer.
I can’t help but ask, “Was it because I tried to-“ before letting me finish she says “God no, you think I could transfer in a day? And for what? Not everything is about you, or what you do or what you want, I thought five years would be enough time to learn that”, and well I’ve always known that it was a coincidence that those two things happened successively. But deep down I couldn’t shove the idea away that it was all because she wanted to get away from me, that it was my fault and I shouldn’t have done it after all. I know that doubt has led me to be selfish, and to give up on trying to fix it, and to suffer more, and I don’t know how to defend it (or if I even should). Throughout all these years I’ve also imagined getting the answer to this question countless times, and how I’ll finally be at peace if I got this answer, but now I don’t feel relived as much as I wanted to.
“So you thought of me in those years?” I say in a hopeful tone still desperately clenching to this conversation, as if all this could be solved just if we have this talk. “Way to avoid my point right? You haven’t changed a bit, reckless and careless and always holding on to things that don’t matter much to the extent that you nearly got yourself killed,” but she says this in a kinder tone than the previous one, maybe even with a hint of worry in her voice. I finally give up on trying to get this conversation to fix it all, and decide that we’re too tired now, so I reply “I thought you said it wasn’t fatal.” A pause then, “It’s really late, are you going to leave now?” I hope that she can hear the silent ‘stay’ in what I just said. “I don’t think I can get a taxi now, can I? considering the time, and I don’t have the energy to explain all this to someone and wake them to pick me up”, “you can stay if you want?” and for all we’ve been through, I’m relieved when she agrees.
//end of part 1
->part 2
#so this is the first piece of writing that I'm posting online and I'm a bit nervous but also excited about it#anyways I hope you enjoy it#writing#authors#writrblr#writers on tumblr
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Not Now, Not Ever (Geralt x reader)
Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x reader
Word Count: 1458
Warnings: a dash of angst, but a happy ending. TW for some abandonment issues, just in case.
A/N: So, my brain has been on an angst track lately, and I’ve been hesitant to post the fics that I’ve written because they all turned into really similar stories, but I figured I’d go ahead with this one. I still haven’t seen the witcher, so I’m really sorry if I’m totally off on Geralt’s characterization! I think I kept the reader gender neutral! Gif is not mine, nor is the Witcher! Hope you enjoy!
“What do you know about feelings, Witcher?”
I regretted the words the moment they fell from my lips, clapping my hand over my mouth as I stared in wide-eyed horror at the silver-haired man in front of me. His lack of reaction only added to my guilt.
Afraid of causing more damage with grief-cruel words, I fled the bar, fled back to the inn, back to my room. It didn’t matter that I was grieving and lost, that didn’t justify the sharp words I hadn’t meant in the slightest.
You’ve pushed too far… The dark part of my mind whispered. You’ve pushed too far and now he’ll leave… just like everyone always leaves you… you’ll be alone, just like you deserve to be.
Maybe that’s a good thing… There won’t be anybody I can hurt.
I cried then, the tears I’d been holding back all day finally freed. And they came violently, running hot rivulets down my cheeks, dropping off my chin. The sobs were no kinder. Those clawed their way up my throat, tearing at my lungs as my shoulders heaved with the force of them.
Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, a knock sounded quietly on the door.
“Go away, Jaskier.” I tried to sound as sullen as possible. Sullen was better than broken.
Whoever was at the door definitely didn’t go away, only knocked against the wood again, so either it wasn’t Jaskier or he was ignoring my request. Either way, I was going to have to answer it. I forced a mask of composure on and wiped away the tear tracks as best as I could. Hopefully, it would be enough that they wouldn’t ask questions.
“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” I said when the knock sounded again. My legs wobbled a little beneath me as I moved across the room to the door, but they almost buckled completely when I saw that it was Geralt at my door.
“Geralt!” After my initial shock passed, I fixed my eyes on the floorboards. “You… you’re not... gone?”
“Why would I be gone?” The very notion seemed to confuse him.
“Because I said that horrible thing in the bar and… and how could you not hate me?” I didn’t dare look up now, continuing in a whisper. “I would hate me if I were you.”
“You’re not me,” was his simple reply. I almost looked at him then, but my composure was cracking, and I didn’t deserve to cry in front of the kind man who I had just stabbed emotionally where I knew it would hurt.
“O-oh.” Is that the best you can come up with? ‘Oh?’ Pathetic.
As I stood there, shame burning hotly across my cheeks, trying to find a way to excuse myself from the situation, his hand reached out to tentatively grasp my chin. Gently, he lifted my face, and as I met his honey gaze I saw nothing but worry and warmth in his eyes. There was none of the hate and the cold I’d expected.
The kindness was what broke me. The first tear leaked out on its own, and then it was like the bursting open of floodgates. I collapsed finally under the weight of everything - the grief at the loss of my parents, the shame and anger at myself for what I’d said to Geralt. It proved too much to bear. He caught me as I crumpled, strong arms pulling me into a tight embrace.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I cried into his shirt. “I didn’t mean a word of it, I’m sorry.” I’m not sure how many times I repeated my apology, though I’m sure it was enough that he tired of hearing it.
For a long time, he said nothing, just holding me to his chest as I wept in his arms. His hand rubbing gentle circles across my back only made me sob more fiercely, and I was glad that he wasn’t speaking. I had enough guilt surging through me without kind words I didn’t deserve mixed into the fray.
It felt like ages passed that way before my tears were finally spent and I was left trembling and exhausted. And still Geralt didn’t let go. Instead, he lifted me in his arms and moved us both to sit on the bed, keeping me tucked against him.
I was afraid to move – afraid that if I did, he would come to his senses and leave. All the same, I knew that eventually the spell of this moment had to break. I sucked in a shaky breath, burning the scent and feel of Geralt into my memory. Steeling myself, I pulled back, rubbing the back of my hand across my face.
“I’ll… You can...” All hint of coherent thought fled, leaving me speechless as I stared determinedly at my knees. So much for keeping any of my dignity intact while giving him a graceful way to leave. My certainty that he would leave settled like a boulder in the pit of my stomach as I choked back a fresh sob. I made a valiant attempt to stand, to move away, to do literally anything that would make me feel less pathetic, but the instant I started to stand, the White Wolf gently pulled me back into his embrace.
“Hush now, it’s alright,” he murmured as he tucked my head under his chin.
“How can you even stand to look at me?” The question slipped out quietly, so quietly I wasn’t even sure he had heard. I wasn’t sure I wanted him to hear it.
“Pain is different for everyone. For some, like you and me, it means we try to push everyone away with words we don’t mean… We convince ourselves that we deserve to be alone.” He punctuated the words with kisses to the top of my head. “I’ve done it enough to recognize it in you now.”
“But that… that doesn’t… I still shouldn’t have said that. I’m--” I pulled away again, covering my face with my hands.
“No more apologies, dove.”
“Why not? How could I say that to you, no matter what I’m going through?”
Gentle hands circled around my wrists and tugged them away from my face before grasping my chin and starting to lift my gaze carefully to meet his.
“I don’t deserve your kindness, Geralt,” I said thickly, tearing my gaze from his once more. “I don’t deserve you.” All my life, everyone had, without fail, left eventually, and now I couldn’t believe - I didn’t dare hope - that he would stay. I suppose I thought my stubbornness a shield that would protect my heart when he left, even though bitter experience had taught me that nothing would. At best, it had kept others from seeing my pain.
“Oh, my sweetest love.” He all but whispered the words, leaning forward to press his lips to my temple tenderly. “Please don’t say that about yourself. Please don’t believe that.” His nose traced down the side of my face, peppering kisses the whole way.
“I…” I opened and closed my mouth several times, not really sure what to say. Geralt’s warm hand slid to cup my cheek, turning my head so that his forehead could rest against mine.
“I don’t care what you said, Y/N.” His eyes were as warm as molten honey as he held me transfixed by his gaze. “I am not going to leave you. Not now, not ever.”
A couple of fresh tears leaked out, swept away by the lightest brush of his thumb. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to trust his hold at last and relaxed against him with a shuddering breath. His arm only tightened reassuringly around me.
“You might have to remind me every once in a while,” I let out a watery chuckle, relieved that I wasn’t going to lose someone else.
Geralt didn’t say anything - I figured his quota of words must’ve been filled for the day - he just held me a moment longer before helping me change for bed. The mattress dipped under his weight as he joined me, his arm quickly going around me and tugging me close to him. His free hand found mine, drawing it up to rest over his heart with his fingers intertwined with my own.
“I’ll always be here, dove. For as long as you’ll have me,” he finally said, the words filtering over my ears as I realized how tired I was.
“Guess you’re stuck with me forever,” I hummed drowsily. For the first time that day, I had hope. Hope that tomorrow would be brighter, that everything would turn out alright in the end, as long as I had Geralt at my side.
“Forever it is, then.”
Thanks for reading!!
Forever tags:
@riddikulus-obsessions @addictionmarvel @peppermint--teas @mercedesbarnes @javapeach @thophil2941btw @legolaslovely
Tag list is OPEN, just shoot me a message or an ask if you’d like to be added! (Strikethrough means tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you!)
#Geralt x reader#Geralt of Rivia x reader#Geralt x you#the witcher x reader#the witcher#reader insert#geralt x reader fluff#geralt fluff
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Hat’s Off to You
Platonic fluff, a bit silly or OOC but not a crackfic lol, 1659 words
TW: S!Janus
“What’s going on here?” Patton asked as he popped up.
After rolling his eyes and a moment of hesitation, Virgil replied, “Princey brought up some dumb idea about Janus having some weird secret hidden under his hat and now he and Logan are debating it.”
“Well, what’s all hat about?” the moral side inquired further with a grin.
Though Patton had expected Virgil to at least smirk at this, the latter instead protested, “Please, just get them to stop for now or something…”
“Okay, kiddo. Sorry about Pat — uh, I mean that,” Patton corrected himself quickly before turning his attention to the other two.
“I still think it’s probably something weird and evil, like some devil’s horns or — or pointed ears,” Roman insisted, gesturing to the vague areas that those body parts would be placed on himself.
“If Janus were to be hiding something underneath his hat — which I still have very significant doubts about — then it would probably be a result of his half-snake composition, such as a lack of hair on that side of his head, covered by scales,” Logan chimed in with an even tone.
“Well, yeah, maybe, but it still could be something… much more sinister that reveals how Thomas truly visualizes Deceit in his mind,” the prince suggested with a deep curiosity.
“Wouldn’t that be you, Roman?” Patton asked with an innocent smile.
“Wha—? No, I’m not a liar! I’m an actor but I am not Deceit,” Roman dismissed, clearly offended.
“No, that’s not what I meant, and I was talking about Janus, not evil,” Patton said, subtly reminding Roman to be kinder about the side in question. “I meant that the way Thomas views Deceit as a concept would be your creativity, kiddo,” he explained.
Roman paused for a moment. “I… suppose you’re right,” he agreed.
“That would make sense, though it would still have the influence of how Thomas feels about the concept of Deceit in genera—” Logan tried to elaborate, but was cut off by Roman.
“By Artemis’s beautiful bow, I think I know!” the creative side exclaimed with a wide gesture.
“You’ve… decided on a guess?” Logan prompted, frowning slightly in curiosity and pushing his glasses backwards as he scanned Roman with his eyes.
“Oh, brother, what is it now?” Virgil groaned, pulling his hood up over his head.
“That’s the spirit! What do you think, Roman?” Patton encouraged excitedly.
“Wolf ears,” Roman answered simply, as if the answer was obvious.
“Uh… might’ve misheard you there, Kiddo,” Patton fretted, leaning in a bit closer in hopes of understanding Roman’s words better.
“That… is an interesting guess. I suppose I could see some reasoning for this,” Logan mused, placing his knuckle against his lips in thought.
“Please tell me you’re not actually considering this, dude,” Virgil pleaded, pulling his sleeves over his hands.
“No, no, I’m serious!” Roman persisted, holding out his hands in a “wait” gesture. “From my best understanding of how Thomas views deception, he gets consistently stuck on the phrase ‘wolf in sheep’s clothing’ and sometimes he imagines liars as having certain wolf traits,” he finally explained. “Though, he usually only does that past 3am,” he added with a slight shrug before looking towards the rest of the group for approval.
“In addition to that, Janus does seem to... work alone, if you will, with his varying goals for Thomas — a lone wolf, perhaps,” Logan elaborated, “Wolves are also regarded for their intelligence and have very complicated social dynamics, maybe tying into Janus’s ability to use charisma to his advantage. Symbolically, wolves are also regarded as confident, which he definitely exhibits.”
“Come on, you don’t actually think Janus would have something as… as stupid as that,” Virgil disagreed, rubbing the back of his neck. Logan narrowed his eyes at the way he stumbled over his words.
“Virgil, I expected you to be less… concerned about this matter — furthermore, to mock him for it,” the logical side deduced, tilting his head slightly in confusion. “So… either you’re embarrassed about something similar or something is wrong here,” he declared, causing the room to fall silent for a few seconds.
“What’s wrong with Virge, Logan? Don’t just leave it all… ominous like that! It’s scary,” Patton fretted, looking at the side in question with worry.
At that moment, Virgil showed up, shoving aside the “Virgil” that had been there before, who was pushed into the wall and reverted back into his true form.
“Did someone say ‘scary?’” Virgil asked nonchalantly, giving Patton a quick glance before returning to glaring at Janus.
“Deceit!!” Logan yelled, pointing at Janus.
“Yes, yes, we’ve noticed, Logan, no need to sound the alarm, especially not so loudly,” Janus remarked.
“Virgil!” Patton and Roman exclaimed in unison with smiles.
“What was he doing here? What did he say?” Virgil asked, voice serious and impatient.
“Nothing much! Since I got here, he was just denying some of Roman and Logan’s theories about what’s under his hat,” Patton recounted.
“Yes, padre is right; that’s all the snake has done, nothing particularly evil or sinister,” Roman confirmed with a slight nod as if his valiant watch had kept Janus in check, whereas in reality he hadn’t really noticed.
Virgil snickered. “You mean ‘cause he’s insecure about this?” he asked with a mischievous smile as he managed to snatch Janus’s hat, revealing a pair of… dark wolf ears.
“Hah! I knew it! I called it! That was me, I was right. Got it before Logan,” Roman announced proudly before clearing his throat awkwardly and growing quiet to listen.
“Only because it was your interpretation of symbolism,” Logan muttered under his breath, petty.
“Aww, you’re like a teddy bear!” Patton commented with a gasp, “Or a puppy! Why would you hide this? We wouldn’t make fun of you for something so cute and nonthreatening!” He paused suddenly, realizing that he had just spoken the exact reason. “Ohh…” He grimaced slightly in guilt.
“Yes, well, isn’t this lovely. This is exactly what I wanted, Virgil, thank you,” Janus complained in annoyance, shooting the man in question a pointed look. “It’s obvious that this is totally a part of myself that I like and wanted to share with the group.”
“Janus, we won’t make fun of you for it, especially if you’re so insecure about it,” Patton reassured, looking around the room for agreement and receiving nods from everyone… as well as muffled snickers from Roman and Virgil.
“Grandma, what big ears you have,” Roman murmured quietly under his breath, unable to resist the temptation.
“What does it matter anyway? It’s clear I’m viewed as but a beast or a — a monstrous creature. Why would words make that any different?” Janus retorted to Patton, both his eyes and his phrasing giving away his hidden sadness.
“Well, Janus, you of all sides should understand the power that words can hold,” Logan reminded tersely.
“Regardless, Thomas could have at least chosen something scarier rather than just… an amalgamation of different animal symbols out of confusion,” Janus griped, gesturing into the air in frustration.
“Weird is better than scary if it’s constant. Trust me on this one,” Virgil insisted, though his expression turned to one of slight… sympathy?
“Trust isn’t exactly my strong suit,” Deceit responded, casting an unpleasant glance across the rest of the room. “I wonder why?” he added sarcastically.
“It’s not my department either but…” Virgil trailed off, sighing. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this to you of all people,” he muttered. “But… I know what it’s like to feel different and unnecessary and — and like you’re built to just be weird, to just be the outcast,” he admitted, avoiding looking into the half-snake’s eyes. “I know what it’s like but… it’s not like that here, not with them. Not with us,” he assured, fiddling with his sleeves.
“I think we all owe Janus an apology,” Patton pointed out. “I’m sorry for not respecting your privacy,” he said, looking at the aforementioned man with empathy.
“I apologize for my earlier behavior. I was curious but not considerate,” Logan chimed in concisely.
“I… suppose I’m sorry too,” Roman agreed, though he opened his mouth to say something else and closed it a moment later.
“I guess I shouldn’t have… done that,” Virgil mumbled, handing Janus his hat back. “But you shouldn’t have impersonated me either.”
“Very well, very well… I’m sorry for taking your place and deceiving you,” Janus replied, “though it did take them quite a while to catch on…”
“It is indeed odd that Janus’s impersonation of you is much more accurate than of me or Patton,” Logan commented, frowning again in contemplation.
“And that Virgil already knew about Janus’s ears,” Roman added, looking at Virgil in confusion.
“Well, I —” Virgil began nervously.
“— The little brat has done this before, you see,” Janus excused as he interrupted the anxious side. “It was terribly irritating,” he recalled about the false event, examining his nails through his gloves. “And yes, I’m afraid that the emo is the simplest to mimic -- it’s dreadfully easy,” he mocked, though said emo looked up at him when he realized that Janus had just… covered for him and his past as a dark side. That was not anywhere near what Virgil had expected.
“Ah, that would make sense,” Logan accepted with a slight nod.
“I, for one, still can’t decide whether his fluffy little ears are scary or, uh, adorable,” Roman admitted.
Janus scoffed and examined his nails through his glove. “If you’re disturbed by this, wait until you find out what Remus hides under his mustache,” he pointed out.
After a beat of silence, every other side in the room turned to him in a mixture of surprise, fear, and disgust, all exclaiming some variation of “hold up,” “wait,” or “what?!” Except for Patton, who simply remarked, “Well, I suppose we must-ask him later” with a chuckle.
#ts sides#sanders sides fanfiction#sanders sides#ts janus#tss janus#janus sanders#ts virgil#tss virgil#virgil sanders#roman sanders#ts roman#tss roman#tss#ts#ts patton#patton sanders#tss patton#logan sanders#ts logan#tss logan#ts deceit#deceit sanders#mine
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Heat Without Warmth, Light Without Sight
This fic is for the @tma-valentines-exchange and was written for @barnabasbennett (pretty sure, at least!) AO3 link is in the source! Based on the prompt: rewrite episode 159 to feature Tim and Archivist!Sasha.
I’ve been waiting SO LONG to post this! I hope you like reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Chapter One: Embers
The archives are quiet. So quiet. Sasha can hear the tick of the clock on her desk and the hum of the radiator she had brought in so many months ago, back when her biggest concern was how cold her Archivist office was. Before the idea of heat reminded her of Tim in oh-so-many painful ways.
The Unknowing had been…bad. Daisy had been imprisoned in The Choke, Sasha left unconscious and Basira forever changed. She had seen it, she told Sasha later, the way Tim had stood amidst the rubble of plastic mannequins and brick and mortar, unscathed as smoke billowed into the sky, silhouetted in greys and blacks. It was terrifying, she said, in a completely different way than the Unknowing had been. Basira described Tim as unstoppable in that moment, a train bulleting towards destruction and revenge, a rage in his eyes that only intensified when he saw the unconscious form of Sasha James, bruised and lying in the rubble.
In Sasha’s six-month coma, she had missed a lot. Martin had explained things to her; a sad compassion in his eyes as he stirred sugar into tea. Tim had fallen to the Desolation, The Cult of The Lightless Flame calling him home after they had heard about his sudden resilience to heat and flame. It made sense. Tim had experienced so much loss and destruction in his life, losing Danny and Jon (and, temporarily, Sasha) due to the machinations of The Stranger. His connection to the Desolation had probably been growing when none of them, not even Tim, had noticed. Sasha tried reaching out to him; Tim was still employed by the Magnus Institute after all, but he was sullen at his desk, the air around him smelling faintly of burnt hair and the iced coffees he used to love now simmering slightly in his mug. Sasha didn’t think he could’ve been any more withdrawn than he had been in the ramp up to stopping the Stranger. But here he was, prickly and cold and altogether uninterested in Sasha’s attempts to reconnect with him.
Sasha unfolds the letter, singed at the corners. She must have just missed him. Again. Her heart pounds in her chest as she reads the words, written the slanted, neat print she knew so well.
Sasha,
If nothing else, I will miss you. But that loss is essential, Jude says, to feeding the spark that binds us all. They think Agnes Montague’s spark passed to me when I decided my loss of life was more important than the survival of The Stranger and their ritual. Something about total commitment to pain, self-destruction, etc. There is some satisfaction in knowing how unhappy they are about it, especially Jude. I think she really wanted to be special. You’d hate her. Maybe it’s cliché, but I don’t think I’m coming back from this. It all began, and it all must end. Who knows? Maybe I’ll finally be able to quit.
I You are truly unforgettable, boss,
Tim.
Sasha had seen so many of the people she loved fall to the fears of this world in which they find themselves trapped. The loss of Jon had come first, when the thing that Was Certainly Not Jon had stolen him away under their noses. This discovery had come with the loss of the heart of their office: Martin. Realizing he had been in love with a lie had broken something in him, and while Sasha did her best to show him compassion, she couldn’t imagine going through it all in his place. The nature of Gertrude’s death had shocked her; Sasha had known her, had seen such a strong woman she had been. To see (or rather hear) her death reduced to a few cowardly gunshots felt…inadequate. Daisy had become softer after surviving the Buried, kinder to Sasha, but there the Hunt was still there, deep in her. Basira and Melanie were fine, but evasive, suspicious, too eager to wield a knife. And now?
Sasha had no friends, no one she could truly trust, no one left besides Tim. She hadn’t stopped trying to care for him, to make herself available, but she refused to keep her heart open for someone so clearly eager to move away from it all, even if that was motivated by a cult of fire and destruction and pain. But that love she had for Timothy Stoker was still there, the idiot who took her out for drinks and dressed up as her once for April Fool’s and had them all over for Guy Fawkes Day (should she had guessed it then, his eyes illuminated by the pyre, drinking in the light and heat of the flames?) and insisted he cook for everyone whenever he got the chance.
Eyes sweeping over the letter over and over, she read the words, trying to hear each of them in his voice, feeling something in her gut twist as she read her name is his handwriting, in his voice, over and over. Tim had said it so many ways: with mirth, frustration, exhaustion, and warmth. There was still so much left to say. There were so many more ways for him to say her name, and Sasha wanted to hear them all.
This letter? This would not be the last time he said her name. Sasha James, the Archivist, would make damn sure of that.
-
Sasha is hurrying through the Institute when she almost collides with Elias Bouchard. His hair is unkempt, shaggy from his time in prison, but he is dressed immaculately, black dress shirt rolled to his elbows and a tie that seemed to shimmer yellow-green when it catches the light.
“You-Elias, what the hell?” Sasha takes an involuntary step back, hand ghosting to the letter opener she had instinctively tucked into her waistband.
“Save the effort, Archivist. I’m only here to help, after all. My sources say Tim has left?”
“Sources?” Sasha spits the word, fingers resting against the mottled blue handle of the blade. “Please. There’s no need to hide what you are anymore, Elias.”
“Hmm, very well.” His fingers drum patiently on his jaw, one elbow elegantly balanced on the opposite wrist. He looks too calm, too relaxed for the anxiety and anger thrumming its way through Sasha’s chest. “So, you don’t want to know where he’s gone?” Fuck. Elias’s eyebrow arches expectantly, eyes staring past her as he focused on what she could now recognize as what she called the Knowledge.
“Elias Bouchard, t̶̡̟̲͓̩̜̣͕͇̟̱͉̹̽̋̑̑̅̊͒́̔̂͠ͅe̶̝͍̜̲̘̙̤̰̬̞͒͗l̴̛͕̜̟̟̰͑̿̎̎́͛͌̽̆͆̓̋̾l̴̟̤͚͉͔̼̄̈́̆̌̏̇͝ ̷͖̙̠͕̜̮̬̟̝̰̫͍̆ṁ̶̨̗̮͍̖͍͖̱̟̍̽͜͝e̴̗̩͒̈́͛̊̽́̿ ̷̧̨̡̦̻̙͎̬̪̞͕͙͖̓͂͂͂͂̊̔̊̕̚͜w̴͈̖̦̒̾̀̽͑̓̑̎̂̇͗̂͒ḩ̸̩̺͎̤̳̰̘̱̣̍ę̵̫͚̖́̇͜r̷̢̘͍̣͚̠͚̫̦̭͌ͅͅͅẻ̵͓͖̆̀̒ ̵͇͕̱̬̻̖͔̲͇͇͊̓͊́̽̍̋̓̈́̎̿̆̕͘͝h̷̨̡̧̨̻̝̲̱̬̻͙̻͋́͒̈͆͛͛̒͂̉̈́̎͜e̴̡̪͓̘̳͇͙̪̠̳͈͔̳͕͗̓̉̎ ̵̢̡̟͍̬͖͔͎̹͇̞͗̓́́i̶̲̬̰͙̖̘̮̠̘̜̙̗̍̈́̀̌̔͌̊͋́̍͌̑̚͝s̶̞̱̥͚̽̔̏͠͝.”
Her voice echoes with persuasion, the smooth words rolling off her tongue before she could consider it. Elias sighs, seeming almost tired with her. “He’s in the Desolation.” Elias sighs, seeming almost tired with her. “Honestly, Sasha, I would have told you without you needing to ask like that.”
She tunes him out, her own Knowing searching for Tim and landing her only with a burning inside her skull. She hisses her pain through her teeth and focuses back on Elias, who seems almost amused.
God, what a bastard. “Ȟ̶̡̱͈̖̱̱̱̤̮̖̳̬̆̿͐͛̾́͗͠͝͝ͅͅo̷̡͎̙̓͗̋̂͊̏̏̅̚͘͝ẅ̶̢̨̧̝̖͚̦̱̟̹̼͕͌͌͌̋̒̆͑̈́̓͛͠ ̶̱̩̜̖̫̼̰̐d̴̢͈͍̗̱̀̉̽͋o̷̢̡̫͈̼̺̹̩̥͕͕͘̕ ̵̢̭̦͍̬͖̪̹͍̬̝͝I̶͕̥̱̤̽̿̃̃̂͐̔͒̒̇̆͗̚̕ ̴̛̞̜̘̥͓̙̗̫̰̙̼̝̀͗͋̊́̕ḡ̴͈͈̗̜̦̇͐̏̿̾̅́̆̎̂̊̕͠e̷̡̡̲̘̞̟̤̗͓̺̱̣̘͐̆̈́̔̎̃͋́ṯ̶̨̺̜̪̺̼̼̟̽̽̍̾̊́͊́̒̕͘ ̵̢͔̟͈̘͚̫̩̭͑̃͘ͅt̸̪̊͛̽̀͒h̴̘̫̖̤̜͕̻̺̯̼̦̟͔̋̍̋̈̌̃͐̈́̍̋e̶̢̛͚͉͕͓̪̖̘͖͇͇̫̲͉̐̀̈́̋̄̃̆̽̃̍͊̓ͅr̵̨͍͖̜͕͈̱̤̤̭͈̳̯̜͈̆͒̾̎̓̓̀̐̈̀̂̉̕͠e̴̦̱̺͓̝͕̥͔̮̓͐͛̚?̸̛̝̞̦͈̦̿͐͌̂̌̆͂̆̔̋͗͒̊”
“Honestly, Sasha, you’re wearing yourself out. Timothy and Jude just left. They were in the library; I’m sure you can follow them. Let your mind follow theirs. Find the right string, if the Mother will pardon my analogy, and pull it. I’m sure they left the door open for you.” He winks, as if enjoying a private joke, and turns on a polished leather shoe, striding towards the Archives with purpose.
Sasha redirects her course and hurries to the library. Is this a trap? Almost definitely. But honestly, she doesn’t care. Rosie, head of the institute while Elias had been “previously occupied," had been the last to leave the Institute, Sasha Knew as she ran, clocking out at 18:02. The librarians and assistants were gone. It was just her. Well, she and Elias, certainly. She was already a pawn in this fourteen-way game of chess; she may as well take down some bishops if this was going to be her end. She has never met Jude Perry, but Tim was right about one thing: she certainly already hated her.
-
In the library, Sasha halts in the doorway, taking in the scene in front of her. The heat is excruciating on her cheeks as she sees a blazed trail of singed books, paper, and manuscripts. The burning in her face and soul is caused not by any fire, but by the sheer anger that someone dared mar her memories of this library, where she had met so many of the people she loves. Loved. No, loves, she decided with certainty. Jon is gone, the true memory of him lost to everything but the errant polaroid, Martin is all but gone, a shell of the warm man they had known, and Tim is just out of reach. But despite all this, maybe in sheer spite of everything they’ve been through, Sasha still present-tense loves each of them.
It is that love, she thinks, that guides her now, more so than the omniscient Eye that paves her way to the Desolation, the scar on reality widening and opening for her before it swallows her whole, the library crumbling into ash around her.
One way or another, she was going to end this.
#tma#the magnus archives#tma fanfic#tma valentines exchange 2021#timsasha#archivist sasha#desolation tim#fanfic#sasha james#tim stoker#fanfic to a tea
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Work summary: For so long, Din fought the reality of giving the child up, giving him to the jetii and moving on. He had prepared for it, packed a bag and left it all behind, so his son could have the life he deserved.
All until he didn't have to.
Or the one where Luke rescues Grogu on Tython, and Din rescues Luke in return.
Chapter summary: Din, Luke, Cobb and the rest of the caravan begin their journey to Mos Espa
...
The sun had set hours ago, and Din leant into the sways and dips of his bantha as they traversed the desert. It was late, and the sky was darkening, the deep blues and purples fading into a deeper blue Din hadn't a name for. The stars were blinding, hanging in clusters and constellations, so many of them Din had no need for light. The moons hung deep on the southern horizon, and Din turned his head as the light reflected on his companions, fixing his gaze on Luke as his golden hair glowed silver in the moonlight. Din quirked a smile, watching as Luke talked animately to Scoeeri Plebb, the woman whose bantha he had been following for the past few hours. The child was asleep, lulled by the constant movement and the lack of interesting things to eat. Din smiled, it was going to be a long journey, and the child would need his rest.
He pulled a strip of jerky out of his belt and lifted his helmet to take a bite. He hadn't hesitated to take the rear of the caravan when they set out, letting Vanth and a Tusken by the name of A'Vor lead. He had taught Vanth the basics of the Tusken language that afternoon and told A'Vor that he could translate if need be. They seemed to get along well; the caravan had been moving in a steady north/northwest path for two hours, en route to Mos Espa. If all went well, they'd arrive in ten days' time.
Din was tired for other reasons, ones he wasn't able to put into words. He had taken Luke's hand in a moment of weakness; in the cantina when he thought he would lose Luke to this panic, he held him. Din wished he could offer more, come closer, bring Luke into his arms and rub his back the way he did for the child when he was afraid. It would be too much, too much too fast, and what if Luke refused? The jarring split would be worse than the pain of seeing Luke that way.
He had led, taken Luke back to the house after he calmed down some. He hadn't let go of Luke's hand, but the jetii didn't seem to mind. The baby settled against Din's chest, and with both hands occupied, he let Luke open the door and shut it carefully, letting the kid crawl out of his arms.
"What are you afraid of?" he asked again, and Luke shut his eyes, his body tense and still. Din wanted so badly to pull the man close to him, to feel his smaller body close to his own. He wanted to pat down that fluffy hair that never quite lay flat, to rub his thumbs up and down his arms like his mother had when Din was frightened. He wanted this and more but balked, not for reasons of his own. He wanted Luke to feel comfortable with him, safe with him. He couldn't have that if Din let his feelings get in the way.
Whoever Luke imagined Fett to be, whatever history they had together, it didn't make sense. Fett had called Luke an aruetti, an outsider, foreigner. Someone dangerous, someone with ill intentions. But Din didn't see that in Luke. The man was golden, bright as the sun. He was untainted, unbroken, his spirit filled to the brim with joy and contentment. Din wanted that, wanted him— this strange man in his life, this jetii he had known for less than a day. Something different, something off, something about him that drew Din in like a moth to a flame. Luke was a mystery, a man with incredible gifts, a jetii who had left his family and his home for the cries of a child on the planet below. The man who had stayed, certainly longer than Din expected him to, to train the baby in the ways of his people. It was a debt Din could never repay. It meant more to him than he had words to explain.
But it wasn't just a debt, now. The man was the first rays of dawn, the feeling of dew in the sand. He was bright, the burning light of the sun, and Din couldn't help but be drawn to his light, to orbit around his brightness, unwilling to admit he was being turned. He had made breakfast for the man with only a twinge of guilt, heating the leftover meal Cobb Vanth had prepared for them with careful attention. He thought back to how Luke fancied the blue pudding, and abandoning his own need for sustenance (surely he'd eat later), he dished out equal portions for Luke and Grogu, wanting desperately to feel useful. If he wasn't, if he was brash and uncaring, Luke would leave. He couldn't bear even the thought of it. The memory of his jetii after the battle on Tython stirred panic into his heart. The head wound was serious, much more severe than he was willing to admit to himself at the time. Bacta could only do so much; the rest would come with time. But the blood, there was so much of it, pooling and collecting in the creases of the man's nose, in his lips, dripping down his neck. It was on Din, too, and both blood and guilt dipped and flowed over his consciousness as he sat vigil over this stranger he didn't even know the name of. And why?
He had saved the child, of course, he had. Din and Fennec wouldn't have been able to on their own. The child would've died had Luke not interfered. But it was more than that, something Din couldn't admit to on pain of death, knowing, of course, that death might've been kinder. Din had held his jetii at arm's length, watching carefully, observing him always. Noticing when he sat and when he stood, what he ate, how he looked for permission before touching his son. Din appreciated it; the care and attention Luke showed for his child stirred something in his heart he thought had long ago calcified. Something close and desperate and warm, something Din had only ever felt with his parents and, more recently, with his son. Something eerily reminiscent of—of—
No, he told himself later that day, collecting the child's toys from the house. No, it's off the table. Forbidden. To love is to be known; this vessel is not mine to bear.
And more presently, the child needed him. Or so the excuse to himself went.
So instead, he watched, smiling as Luke did, observing as he swayed back and forth on his bantha. Din turned about, as he did every few minutes, his hand on his pulse rifle, taking care to protect those around him. But the desert was quiet, the sand still over the dunes, the stars hanging like crystals in the sky.
The saddle beneath Din dug uncomfortably into his shebs, and he wondered when Cobb was going to stop and make camp for the night. Din understood the Marshal's desire to leave as soon as they were able, but Din's nerves prickled as he watched the empty desert. Any number of dangers could be hiding in caves, ducked behind the dunes. The light was dim, but the stars and the moons, as well as the infrared setting on his HUD made it easy to see danger as they presented themselves. If they presented themselves.
Din rode in silence for some time, his eyes finding Luke as he laughed at something his companion said, his voice light and airy. Did the Jedi need to sleep? Din thought with amusement, something warm prickling in Din's chest as Luke leant forward and rested a hand on his bantha's side, speaking quietly to the animal.
Din forced his eyes onto the desert, his ears listening carefully to his companions. But he couldn't focus; Din only caught some of Luke and Scoeeri's words to one another and less of what Luke said to his bantha.
"What are you doing?" Scoeeri asked softly, and Din's head shot up, watching Luke carefully as he laughed, patting the shoulder of his bantha with what Din could only describe as affection.
"I'm speaking to him," Luke said.
Huh.
Din looked down at the child. "Can you do that too, kid?" Grogu didn't respond, looking up at his father with wide eyes, his fingers tangled in bantha fur. Din watched as Grogu gummed at the edge of his blanket. "Guess not,"
Din watched carefully as their caravan continued, smiling to himself as Vanth and A'Vod shared a laugh, nervous though it may be. His other companions, two humans and two Tuskens whose names Din hadn't caught spoke rode quietly, one behind the other. Perhaps things could change, even in a backwater desert like Tatooine.
"We'll stop here for the night," Vanth said with a laugh, and Din sighed in relief, pulling the child out of the saddlebag with a careful hand so he could see, settling the baby in his arms. Before them, the path was a gentle decline, the open maw of a cave protecting a small valley filled with scrub grass. Din watched as the others dismounted, laughing to himself as they walked away from their mounts with a bowlegged stance. Maybe his shebs wouldn't be the only ones aching tonight.
The baby cooed at the sight, suddenly wide awake as Din swung off the back of his bantha, laying a gentle hand on the creature's nose before leading it to the grass to graze.
"Mando," Vanth said, and Din looked up, watching as the others began to set up camp. Luke came close, suddenly looking so much younger than twenty-eight in the moonlight. He gestured for the child, and Din let the baby spill into Luke's arms without a second thought, walking towards Vanth with a barely contained smile on his lips.
"Anything to report?" Vanth asked, looking past Din into the desert behind. Vanth had picked a good stop to rest; the cave buttressed an embankment too high to climb, with the mouth of the cave being the only discernable entrance. There were ten of them in total, with eight bantha's and a speeder bike loaded with supplies to guard. It shouldn't be too much trouble.
"Nothing," Din said, trying to focus on Vanth, but failing, his eyes catching Luke speaking quietly to A'Vod's riduur, a swaddled baby he hadn't noticed held in her arms. Luke ran a hand over the child's head, Grogu peering curiously at the child from Luke's arms. "It's quiet,"
"Yes," Vanth said, clapping a hand on Din's shoulder. "Let's get some grub started, I'm starving,"
Din helped Vanth unload the gear, watching carefully as A'Vod and his companion (Din believed his name to be Cor, but he'd ask later) made a fire, setting a three-legged tripod with a dangling chain over the flames. Scoeeri and her brother Laele were busy over a pot, adding dried pieces of krayt dragon and a prickly vegetable Din couldn't identify with gentle hands. A'Vod gestured for Din, and he stood, following the man as he led him to the mouth of the cave. Instantly, the temperature dropped, their camp conversation fading to silence as they entered the cave.
That was when they found the water.
It was plentiful, flowing gently over stones, looking to be both clear and cold. Din smiled to himself, thanking A'Vod for his discernment (for surely he communicated to Vanth the need for water when they picked a place to stop. Water was precious on Tatooine, and Din felt honoured to have been entrusted with the knowledge).
Din signed thank you to A'Vod, who nodded in recognition, and Din followed as they walked to retrieve the empty water skins.
The camp settled into a steady rhythm, with the water from the cave, Scoeeri and Laele set the pot over the flames to cook. The bantha's grazed, and the children played, Luke and Varre watching and speaking quietly to one another. Din helped Vanth and Cor lead the bantha's to water and then unloaded the tents, setting them up for use.
They ate merrily, Din taking their food and the child away to the edge of the camp under the guise of keeping guard to eat on their own. The child was content to sit on Din's lap, the warm stew disappearing quickly as Grogu ate. Din took the rare opportunity to eat his food without hurrying, revelling in the silence of the desert wind around them. He drained his water skin and put his helmet, gathering the child and their dishes when he stopped short.
Luke was there, standing quietly beneath the ridge, looking happy and calm in the moonlight. His jetii'kad hung on his belt, and Din wasn't sure what to say at his sudden appearance.
"I was wondering if you'd like some company," Luke said, taking the empty bowls from Din's hands. "Scoeeri and I are almost done the washing up,"
"Oh," Din said, shuffling the baby to his other arm just for something to do, watching as Luke smiled at him and walked back down the ridge.
"Are you coming?"
Din grinned, looking down at the child with a leap in his heart, following Luke as he led them back to camp.
A'Vod and Varre's ad was older than Din initially thought, old enough to walk with help, and Din let Grogu down to play at Varre's direction, turning his attention to Luke and Scoeeri. Luke took Din's dishes and washed them, up to his elbows in soapy water, talking animately to both of them as he passed the dish to Scoeeri to rinse and dry. Din took the bowl as it was offered, looking at the neat pile of bowls and spoons sitting on a towel beside him and stacked the bowl with others.
Once the washing up was complete, Luke helped Din organize the cooking things into a crate intended for their use and tossed away the dishwater.
His companions were sitting and laughing around the fire when Luke and Din returned, and Din grinned as Grogu turned from his new friend and ran into Din's arms. Din nodded at Varre and signed his thanks, which Varre returned. Apparently, Grogu was welcome company.
"There you are," Luke said with a grin, running a finger along the child's ear. Grogu cooed, snuggling close into Din's arms. "Did you have fun with your friend?"
Din let his mind open as he looked carefully down at his son, feeling the thoughts and contentment of the baby wash over him. He was thrilled to have another child to play with.
"Yeah?" Luke said, looking down at the baby with affection. "That's good, then,"
"What's he saying?" Din asked, looking up to meet Luke's eye.
"Oh, nothing," Luke said with a secret smile, looking down at the baby. "Aren't we allowed to have secrets from your buir, Grogu?"
The baby warbled something incomprehensible and giggled, and Din smiled, rocking the baby back and forth. He didn't mind secrets, not between Luke and the baby. He was glad that the child had someone to talk to, pleased that he could understand the child's basic thoughts and emotions, content that if the baby had something important to tell him, he could do so.
Din looked over the baby and the fire to where the tents were pitched. He hadn't thought about it when they assembled them in the first place, but there were six; one for the siblings, for the married couple, for Cor and Vanth and Din and…
Oh.
The last two tents were close together, nearly touching. Almost as if…almost if...
Din blushed, blushed harder than he'd blushed in a long time. They had assumed, they had thought…and Din had given Vanth no reason not to believe that he and Luke that they were of one body. He hadn't thought about it; Din didn't give a second thought to what others thought of him. But one could've concluded, could've assumed that he and Luke were…
What? Together?
Close enough to sleep side by side? Riduure?
Din breathed steadily, forcing himself to stay calm. There were still two tents, still enough space for Din to relax and remove his armour for sleep. But they'd be so close, nothing but thin fabric separating them from one another.
Something in Din's heart leapt at the thought, a thought he hadn't given any power to since he was an ad in Nevarro. His face was his soul, giving someone else the power to see him…see him like that…
"Bedtime, I think," Cobb Vanth said from the other side of the fire, startling Din out of his thoughts. "A'Vor here volunteered for the first watch, Laele for the second. The rest of us better get some sleep before morning comes,"
Din retrieved his and the baby's supplies from their saddlebags and walked with unsteady feet towards his tent, very aware of Luke behind them, making similar preparations. But there was nothing else to do, nothing Din could do to delay this moment any further, so he turned, facing Luke with trepidation.
But his companion, if he noticed, didn't comment on Din's stiffness, taking a step forward with a smile.
"Goodnight, Grogu," Luke said softly, gripping the baby's hand in his own. "See you in the morning, little one,"
Din watched carefully, his breath catching as Luke's attention turned to him. The air turned, lifting into something sweet and anticipatory as Luke looked up, something in his eyes softening as they considered one another.
Luke took Din's hand and quickly squeezed it, the warmth of his hand almost too much for Din to bear. "Goodnight,"
"Goodnight, Luke,"
And Din watched with his heart in his throat as Luke entered his tent, unable to do the same. It was as if something had cracked and spilled open in Din's chest. Something warm and welcoming, a feeling of home he hadn't felt since his parents died.
Din smiled, looking down at Luke's tent before turning to his own and retiring for the night.
Continued
#dinluke#family bonding#din djarin/luke skywalker#force sensitive din djarin#found family#s2ep6 the tragedy fix it#my fic#din djarin x luke skywalker#cobb vanth#IJADIHIM-xXxVioletSkyxXx
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About the guards: Maedhros chose people who he knew wouldn’t make a fuss about Fingon’s treatment, so in a way, yes, he did select guards with sadistic impulses, though he wouldn’t put it that way. He’d say he chose reliable people. They are pissed because 1) Fingon came for Maedhros but no one came for them, 2) Maedhros killed their friend because Fingon lied about him. Neither is exactly Fingon’s fault, but who cares?
Maedhros would never admit it, but sometimes he pretends not to notice the unnecessary cruelty of the guards because then he can appear kinder to Fingon and condition him to develop a dependency from Maedhros (poor Fingon does need to google how not to develop Stockholm Syndrome). Fingon is smart enough to realize this, but it doesn’t help him at all. Not when he’s lying frozen and in pain after a rough treatment from the guards, who tell Maedhros that Fingon was misbehaving and that’s why they did that, and Fingon is terrified that Maedhros will punish him too as he usually does and repeats over and over again that he didn’t do it, then Maedhros tells him ‘I know’, treats his wounds, wraps him up in warm furs and blankets and holds him in a way he knows makes Fingon feel comforted and safe. (And then fucks him gently, which Fingon doesn’t want, of course, but also doesn’t protest because he’s afraid to anger Maedhros and end the pretense of kindness.)
Things will definitely keep getting worse for Fingon. After another escape attempt, Maedhros may decide that Fingon can live with a broken leg or two. If he tries to hit Maedhros or to fight back, he will have a broken finger, then two, then his hand may be broken. If he’s strong enough to fight, maybe he’s getting more food and water than he needs? Maybe he has no need to lie down when Maedhros isn’t there to fuck him and instead should be chained to the wall the whole time? If only he was good, Maedhros would be kinder to him, but Fingon is doing this all to himself by not obeying Maedhros’s every whim and not being grateful enough that Maedhros treats him the way he does. Maedhros would have killed for someone to treat him the way he treats Fingon when he was Morgoth’s prisoner. Clearly, Fingon is just spoiled.
I imagine him finally escaping and running through wilderness, covered in nothing but a blanket, constantly terrified that he will be found and dragged back again. Then he finally reaches Dorthonion, where he’s treated like a person, where he gets to wear clothes and sleep in a warm bed for the first time in decades. But he still doesn’t feel safe, he still feels like any minute the door will open and Maedhros will come in. And then imagine the huge relief he feels when he finally sees his father.
Omg, Fingon thinking that Fingolfin might send him back! Ouch, that’s painful! I don’t think Fingolfin would ever do that, but realistically he might be forced to let Maedhros go unpunished because they still have Morgoth to fight and he can’t afford to lose a huge chunk of his forces. So they can’t even tell anyone what Maedhros has done because it would still create a divide. So what are they going to do? The most believable version is that Fingon has been captured by Morgoth and escaped, but then he is going to be distrusted and ostracized as a former thrall. People are going to demand to remove him from the line of succession, maybe even lock him up. Fingolfin won’t do it, but the threat is still there.
Maedhros would have to sit at war councils and Fingon would have to bear his presence and pretend (probably very badly) everything’s fine. And if Maedhros slips into his chamber one night, Fingon can’t make a fuss, he doesn’t want to divide the Noldor again, does he? Though Fingolfin probably wouldn’t hold back from killing Maedhros this time if he knew he raped his son under his own roof. (A slightly darker and more coldly pragmatic Fingolfin would tell Fingon to endure it for the sake of the Noldor. He isn’t going to send Fingon back to Maedhros, so Fingon can do him a favor and shut up and take it once in a while.)
You’re right, Fingon isn’t the type to stay in his place while others are fighting for him, so he might very well be at the siege of Himring. Him trapped in the fortress with Maedhros is the stuff of nightmares! He will be very well-protected, of course, Fingolfin won’t want him alone even for a second, but he would still feel exposed and Maedhros would still try to corner him alone.
Maedhros’s brothers would certainly come to his aid against Fingolfin. Even if they found out what Maedhros did, they would at best be like ‘what the fuck, man, that’s fucked up’, but still support him.
Outofangband’s dark Turgon AU sounds super interesting. He already dislikes the Feanorians in canon, make him slightly darker and he could do monstrous things to them.
Thank you so much for letting me ramble. If you want me to stop, just tell me and I will. No hard feelings.
This is just amazing, nonny. I've been trying all week to think of as good a reply as it deserves.
I'm not surprised that selecting for guards who will keep a sex slave secret also ends up selecting sadistic assholes. Them using Fingon's accusation and the other guard's death as a justification for their actions (including possibly retroactively, I doubt they were kind before that) is great.
Oh wow, the list of "privileges" Maedhros thinks Fingon can do without. Presumably he'll let Fingon's leg heal, if Fingon behaves. If Fingon doesn't behave, I wonder if he could be tied up such that his leg heals crooked and he can't run fast. (Downside: that would make him less pretty.)
The thing about not needing so much energy if he's going to use it to fight is also great. Maybe he's fed just enough to stay alive most days. But when the guards see a rider approaching from Himring, that's their cue to give Fingon a bit more food, especially simple carbs that will give him energy quickly. That way he can be more "enthusiastic" during sex rather than just lying there limply. (To be clear, the guards aren't hiding their neglect from Maedhros. He totally ordered them to do this.) Most days though, he has just enough energy to stay upright, and not choke in his collar that's chained to the wall. (Maedhros learned the lesson from his own rescue, of don't chain them by a body part whose loss is survivable.)
On the days Maedhros visits, Fingon has enough energy to move around, and to talk, and to think about something other than how hungry he is. Maedhros has him in a bed, with soft blankets, and cuddles him so they're both warm. It's the best part of Fingon's - week? month? he has no way of keeping track of days - even with the unwanted sex. Fingon knows it's rape, but Maedhros is gentle, and makes sure it's pleasurable for them both, and over time such a harsh word doesn't seem to fit.
The escape! Traveling for miles wrapped in nothing but a blanket, his feet getting torn up, only focused on that he needs to go West. And wow, yeah, not feeling safe until he sees his father, and he can relax and know that someone will take care of him and mean it this time.
Also, all the healers who have the most expertise with injuries from captivity are the ones who helped when Maedhros was rescued. If they get the "escaped from Morgoth" story, they might reassure Fingon with telling him how his friend Maedhros was able to make a full recovery, isn't that good? That Fingon will be so physically strong? (arms pinning him down, a hand around his throat-) That Fingon is no more corrupted than Maedhros is?
I bet after the former thrall story gets out, someone sympathetic to Fingon pulls him aside after a court session. "I obviously don't believe the rumors about you being controlled. But they might die down if you let town for a while, let everyone find something new to gossip about. They say Himring welcomes former thralls, you wouldn't have to deal with all this suspicion there." Fingon just barely avoids vomiting at the suggestion.
I think Maedhros would be too smart to rape Fingon under Fingolfin's roof? He might act like they just had an argument and are on a break, but he wouldn't physically force Fingon when he knows Fingon could get away. He wouldn't be above bribing one of the servants to let him in to Fingon's room for a private discussion though, and kissing Fingon while Fingon is still too shocked to react. (although that coldly pragmatic Fingolfin would be so terrible for Fingon. Maybe he heard that Fingon had been raped in his room, and said "You can move to a different room if you think that will keep him from finding you, but please come up with a good excuse for why you're doing so."
I'm picturing Fingolfin and Fingon going to attack Maedhros. Then they're attacked by Morogth and has to retreat into Himring. Things are tense, but Fingolfin makes it clear to Fingon that any judgement against Maedhros is only delayed, not avoided.
Then word comes that there's the banners of another elven host on the far side of the besieging orcs. And it's Himlad, with Clegorm and Curufin.
Fingolfin stops talking about bringing Maedhros to justice. He still reassures Fingon that he'll be safe, Fingolin won't let anyone touch him, there's guards loyal only to Fingolfin on his door at all times. They'll be able to leave Himring soon, and Fingon will never have to see Maedhros again, or come back to this corrupted place.
But they both know that killing Maedhros is not likely to happen, no matter how much he deserves it.
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“what if.”
disclaimer: I feel this needs to be said first. I am not writing this to knock on anyone and their feeling between two characters. So please don’t @ me okay. I writing this purely from the stand point of what the Game it self showed. How I agree with a content creator’s choice to leave a characters relationship status as “complicated” is very fitting. Please be respectful if you choose to join the conversation on this. I wont tolerate bashing/harassing people because their view point or opinion is different than your own.
Warning: There will be Game spoilers within this post if you have not Played Twilight Princess.
I been cosplaying and Playing Twilight princess the game for 10+ years. My views changed over time clearly. However when I gent into trying to be in character (whether its through writing or cosplaying) I tend to study as much info as I can. Many don’t often go too deep into the game story or find it silly that anyone who get so passionate about things like a character’s life. When Roleplaying, its helpful studying these thing as well. in the end it up to you as the play, how you see the character. That was the intent of the game creator. So when a creative piece of work like @linkeduniverse comes out, its that own creator’s view of the character’s and their work.So when I read the part of “I’s complicated.” it got me thinking deeply ((also loads of coffee)) to process that own statement. A lot of people would like to make Twilight be depressing and pining for the loss of Midna.
In a sense, yes and no. He doesn’t truly know his feeling about the whole situation. Here is why. Midna is a very complicated character. Many just focus on her sass. Her bold behavior and attitude. I looked deeper within the game. Midna had her own agenda really. She could of cared less about what happened to light realm. (Hold your horses, not done yet). She Uses Link at the very beginning as means to and end. Once she got what she needed, she had no other intentions then to do her thing and let the light realm fall under twilight and darkness. So her “sass” as people see was mainly to tear Twilight’s own being down to do her bidding. within her Travels with him, no matter how much she tortured him and such to gather stuff for her needs, he did them. She even went as far to put blame on Zelda for not doing anything as well. Basically saying, “she did nothing.” when Zelda actually putting her sword down and being locked away and allowing Zant to take over was the most selfless thing she could do. She did it to protect her people and kingdom, to do other was was a death wish.
Midna only truly started changing her tune when it came to Twilight and Zelda selflessly doing something to save her when she was dying, due to the hand of Zant. Zelda gave up her powers and transferring it to Midna. Where Twilight went and got her help as she was dying. She came to realize how selfless the two people in the light realm are, to even help her out, when all she ever was mean and snarky towards them and could careless if they lived or died. She then started to be a bit more kinder and saw what her job as a Princess and Ruler her self needed to do. Make sure both their worlds were protected in the end. Twilight and Midna’s interactions with each other changed. Working together they were able to bring an end to the evil that plagued both realms. she Sacrificed her self in the end and then She made the choice to smash the mirror in realizing that leaving it open could cause what happened before- to happen again. She didn’t want that to happen ever again. Midna destroys the Mirror of Twilight to separate the Twilight Realm from Hyrule. Saying, "... Light and shadow can't mix, as we all know. ... See you later..." and then shatters the Mirror of Twilight with one of her tears. So that also means giving up possibility of seeing Twilight again and whatever feeling she may have developed. Leaving their parting “complicated.”
Do I think Twilight developed feeling for her? I honestly feel he had some sort of feeling, romantically? That is a huge “I dunno.”
So now onto the Linked Universe aspect on this and how it fit to how the game ends things between the two. Here this sort of the conversation I feel Twilight has when he talks about relationships, “my childhood friend is dear to me. She is never afraid to voice her thoughts to me- however harsh it can be. We grew up together. It’s understandable. It’s out of love and care. With well the other, her words were just torment and were meant to hurt and just break me down so I was her pet. Doing her bidding and being used for her agenda. She cared nothing for me till after what she saw what I was willing to do for her despite all the tearing me down. That is only then did she seem to show an once of concern and care. We then were able to work together and it because something- what exactly, not sure- i am still truly unsure what we’re were in the end and never given answers to that is what make things complicated. I got some stuff to work on to honestly be in the realm to settle down to anything.” He never talks openly to anyone about this, only hints to the other’s but Between Time and Himself- they do have much deeper conversations on this. That is why the text above is how I feel is fitting to Twilight’s feelings. He feels guilty that Legend has had to go through a similar situation, a loss of someone and not really having the answers to go with that loss. Where Legend morns, Twilight is just in a state of “I dunno.” I also get the sense of he doesn't talk about Midna much to the other as well because of his complicated feelings as well as explaining how their meeting happened to begin with. it means revealing a lot of stuff he is not ready to share. totally valid.
So I feel its was very fitting to leave thing as “complicated.” its amazing how much research and game play and reading you can to to being a character feelings to life. To many Twilight is just a character. To others, (Though fictional) are a breathing beings in their eyes. I also sense Twilight cares a lot for many people, and doesn’t feel the need to find a relationship to make his life complete. He find that through the people he is close to in a Platonic way. To get in a relationship, possibly would means needing a deep connection. (possibly asexual- maybe my own self projection there.) However yeah. this my own personal take on Twilight and Midna’s relationship.
#linked universe#twilight princess#midna x link#legend of zelda#I don't ship characters#not sure if this how Jojo is going with their own plot for twilight or not#please no ship wars
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🦚 3/3.) Um so I believe in soulmate. I'd like to have someone who can understand me and love me as a whole. Someone that will treasured me, spoiled me, basically just showered me with their love. Honest- loyal- funny- kind, those are the thing that I'm looking for in a partner. I'm a touch-starved person so I always want their full attention, I won't ask for it first tho- I'm just gonna wait and sulk 😅 Wheew thats it, hope you don't mind with long desc, thank youuu ❤ p.s : I can't anon this:(
🦚2/3). Move on to my personality, I'm an enfp, taurus and gryffindor. I love to talk, and yes I am loud (I can be sarcastic sometimes) 😅 Despite being a happy go around type of girl, I actually have a lot of insecurity. I hate myself and got depressed easily, but I'm good at hiding it behind my clownery haha. I love singing, playing games, sleeping and tarot reading. I'm shy to people that I found attractive and I'm a hopeless romantic. So to sum it up I am pretty childish wheeee 🤸🏻♀️
#🦚 1/3 ). Hey hey! can I ask for a romantic match up ? 🥺 I'm an 159cm omnisex asian girl. I'm chubby so I look smol. long black wavy hair and I always let it down. People say I look rude and cold so they are afraid to befriend me first (some even hates me for no reason), istg its only my resting bih face (but yes I can fight, verbally and physically.) I don't care about style or brand, I only wear comfortable clothes that looks good on me. I love perfume, so yes I smelled good.
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hey, you lovely bean ! just wanna say that i’m so grateful for your patience & i truly hope you like your match !! (´｡• ▽ •｡`)
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i match you up with . . . 𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐔 !!
firstly, i just want to say that i really think you’d fit kuroo’s type -- with your long wavy hair & your smol stature. right off the bat, he’d think you’re adorable.
the fact you smell good all the time?? like, not to be creepy but he legit can tell when you’re around because he notices the exact perfume you’re sporting (he’s observant like that) & honestly the scent becomes comforting to him--
i headcanon that once you guys become that cute couple, he will for sure initiate that back hug, which consists of him pulling you, from behind, so very close to him & the next thing you know, he’s resting his chin on your shoulder, nuzzling you & slightly breathing in your scent at the same time??
you smell irresistible okay, how could he not-
on a different note, kuroo is the type to look beyond any preconceptions surrounding anyone, including you; he has high interpersonal intelligence (surprise surprise jk), so he’ll disregard any badmouthing & see for himself who you truly are. like, people hating others before they even know them? yeah, that’s lame.
to sum it up, kuroo doesn’t regret meeting you. he’s still a little taken aback by the fact that people are hating you & saying you look rude ‘n cold?? just . . . how is that possible? last he checked, you seemed shy. . . at least to him, but overall, a total happy-go-lucky sort of girl!
in all reality, maybe you do have a resting bih face, but the thing is he’s kind of immune to that? kuroo doesn’t really take it as you look irritated; he’s used to kenma’s apathetic-looking face & he knows that sometimes people can’t help but look the way they do? he concludes that even if you did have a rbf, it’s unintentional & doesn’t represent you as a whole by any means.
he’s not one to judge appearances anyway-- he gets a lot of shade thrown his way for his “rooster head” & the belief he’s a “sly and scheming captain.” he can relate to the fact of being kinder or just overall different than what the exterior image seems to show. with that said, however, he will be mildly surprised by the fact you can fight?? in his book, that’s pretty neat & he’ll probably try to flirt by saying he can fight, too. fight for you that is-
back to the topic of appearances, even if you do see yourself as “chubby”, kuroo would shower you with love regardless.
kuroo doesn’t discriminate & he’d treat you like a queen that you are. you’re looking for someone who will treasure you? spoil you? understand you? just love you for all that you are worth?? look no further, kuroo is your guy !!
kuroo really checks off all your boxes for what you’re looking for in a partner because he’ll definitely make you feel whole. also taurus x scorpio is cute. as mentioned before, he’s observant & while he’s not, by any means, perfect, he’ll strive to put you first & put a smile on your face.
he’s still kuroo, so i mean, at times it’ll be a trial and error kind of thing (perhaps his provoking nature being the perpetrator in fights), but he’s more intuitive than he may appear?? so, he’ll reconcile & apologize when it’s needed; he’s not that kind of prideful to refuse to talk things out.
kuroo will also take note of your insecurity & how you use your clownery as a mechanism to hide this aspect of yourself. you best believe he will be that supportive boyfriend. especially when it’s just the two of you, he won’t hesitate in speaking his truths whether it be saying how you’re amazing and you’re beautiful and he’s so lucky to have you or just gushing about your overall being, from your endearing personality to your cool hobbies (like the fact you sing?? so darn impressive--)
he’s actually more sweet than people give him credit for--
in any case, he simps hard when you’re smiling or just laughing or just have that joyful look on your face-- he wants you to always be in happy spirits. . . at the very least when you’re around him, but for now, he’ll lightheartedly tease you & basically relish in you fighting back with your own words & sarcastic comments.
it’s his funny way of showing that he cares about you.
you two never shut up by the way. like, the art of conversation? you guys take it to the next level. you probably engage in the most randomest of conversations, and yet you two just don’t tire of speaking to one another?? like the flow of conversation just works with you two & you’ll find yourselves talking for hours but it feels like not a minute has past!
this is probably due to kuroo being like a lowkey nerd with big-brain tendencies & you being so gifted at talking (because you love doing so).
side note, kuroo will even be open to talking about tarot cards with you despite his initial suspicion- it just goes to show he’s not that well-versed in the subject, but he’d be eager to learn since you’re into that.
since you won’t outwardly ask for affection or attention, he’ll end up picking up on those small cues over time. if you seem at all restless or have that sulking expression, he’d have that smirk of his grace his features because you look so flipping cute. but not to fear, he’ll then be quick to draw you in for a cuddle sesh if you’re hanging at home or if you’re out in public, he doesn’t mind initiating that kind of pda where he just embraces you, wrapping his arms around you tightly because it’s a way for him to showcase how much he truly loves you.
do it back to him & he melts-- he’ll basically combust if you surprise him like that because he doesn’t realize how much he loves you showing your affection toward him, with his heart beating irregularly and such.
i feel like kuroo can be kind of doting?? even if you’re pretty childish, he honestly wouldn’t mind because you just give him a sense of purpose. like, he can naturally fulfill the role of protecting you & giving you the love you deserve. it’s not to say he’ll baby you per say, but he harbors a sense of protectiveness when it comes to you, which he may not even realize at first.
basically, under the veneer of his teasing personality lies his caring & warm nature. the kind that you are looking for!
he’s totally soft for you & he’ll admit that he would probably do anything for you if you’d say the word.
you probably won’t (at least at first), but that’s okay because he’ll figure it out.
honestly your relationship with kuroo would just consist of you two hanging out, enjoying each other’s company, and just doing those cute couple things. you two probably learn new things about each other every day... but anyway, you two could honestly just be out and about & people will be out here jealous of that because you two look like soulmates adjksdljgl. it’d be so cute !
possible runner-ups:
daichi sawamura
osamu miya
˚✶⋆｡˚☆ﾟ✦
— lily ! ♡
#hq matchup#haikyuu matchups#hq matchups#haikyuu matchup#ask box#matchup#hq#haikyuu#request#kuroo tetsuro#osamu miya#daichi sawamura
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Phone Screens
Summary: Online relationships don’t make the feelings any less real
A/N: Wanted to try my hand at a dialogue heavy piece. Let me know how I did.
Content: Friends to lovers? I dunno.
Word Count: 3.3k
And away, and away we go!
__
drumming_heartbeats: Hey…
jetblackrose: Hi!
drumming_heartbeats: Saw your post about how you met Ashton. That musta been cool, yeah?
jetblackrose: Oh, it was hella cool! I was like super fuckin nervous and he was so chill about it. Honestly probably shouldn’t have fangirled as hard as I did lol.
drumming_heartbeats: Lol, why do you say that?
jetblackrose: I’ve only been a fan for like less than a year lol. I know people have been a fan for years and still haven’t gotten the chance to meet him, or any of the other members so yeah. Feel like I haven’t done my time yet or something. It’s stupid.
drumming_heartbeats: Nah, that’s not stupid. That’s actually really cool. Your picture with him is fucking adorable btw.
jetblackrose: Aw thanks, lovely! How’d you become a 5sos fan? Assuming you are one?
drumming_heartbeats: Lol! My friend got me into them. But yeah, been a fan for awhile. I’m Tom btw.
jetblackrose: Ooo a boy fan! Sick! Nice to meet ya Tom. I’m Gen.
drumming_heartbeats: Shocking I know, but us guy fans do exist, lol. So I take it from the looks of your blog Ash is your favorite?
jetblackrose: I mean… I love them all equally for different reasons. But yeah, Ash is my fav. Something about that cheeky lil grin he does. And he’s so… I dunno, more mindful than the rest? Like they’re all dorks, don’t get me wrong. But he also gives off an old soul vibe I really connect with too if that makes sense.
jetblackrose: Lol, sorry for rambling.
drumming_heartbeats: Nah, it’s cute. And I totally get it. He definitely does seem to have that wisdom that comes from going through some heavy shit.
jetblackrose: Rightfully so. I mean, he seems pretty open about the shit he’s gone through. And the fact that it’s only seemed to make him a kinder person is part of why I love him so much.
drumming_heartbeats: Yeah. Like it’s very easy to let the demons win and give into the bitterness of it all. But he seems like a happy dude, so good for him.
jetblackrose: Good for him indeed! Like all I want in life is for that man to be happy. Like, we all deserve that, but him especially. God, that sounds dumb doesn’t it? That I can feel so attached to someone I maybe talked to for like 5 minutes. Like I know realistically he will probably never recall our encounter or think twice about it. But that doesn’t mean I can’t wish him happiness all the same I suppose. Sorry… rambling again.
drumming_heartbeats: Nah, that’s not dumb at all. If anything I think it shows how caring of a person you are. Which the world could use a lot more of.
jetblackrose: Lol, thanks! You’re sweet to think that. But it’s definitely dumb lol.
drumming_heartbeats: Not even the slightest. Fuck, I’m about to pass out. Talk later?
jetblackrose: You know where to find me. Night-o!
~~~
jetblackrose: Hey, Tom?
drumming_heartbeats: Yeah?
jetblackrose: Probably a dumb question but where do you live? I feel like I keep you up hella late.
drumming_heartbeats: I live in LA.
jetblackrose: Shit, no way?!
drumming_heartbeats: Yeah, lol. I mean, I travel a lot for work but yeah. LA’s home.
jetblackrose: Oh that’s awesome! Are you traveling now?
drumming_heartbeats: Nah, I’m home for the time being. Resting up. Gonna be a busy year.
jetblackrose: Yeah? Hopefully good busy.
drumming_heartbeats: Oh, yeah. It’s always good busy. Hey, did you see the new stuff 5sos put up?
jetblackrose: Yes! Holy shit! Are they TRYING to kill their fans or what?!
drumming_heartbeats: Lmao right? Like fuck, bruh…
jetblackrose: More like fuck me please, lmao! Quick question! And you don’t have to answer if this is way too personal. But are you gay?
drumming_heartbeats: No? I mean, I don’t have a fragile male ego. I can freely admit that men are handsome. But I’m not like… I dunno. If anything I’d probably say I’m bi. I just… labels are confusing.
jetblackrose: Yeah, I feel you on that. Like I just love who I love. I don’t feel the need to explain it much beyond that.
drumming_heartbeats: Exactly! I mean, but I’ve only ever had female partners so… the assumption is straight I suppose.
jetblackrose: I’ve only had male partners. Well, I’ve kissed girls. But I’ve only ever dated dudes.
drumming_heartbeats: Oh, I bet your bf loves that, huh?
jetblackrose: I wouldn’t know. I frequently had my attraction to women from the dudes I date so I don’t get the creeps.
drumming_heartbeats: So no bf…?
jetblackrose: Lol, that’s what you get out of that? You’re such a dude! But nope. No bf.
drumming_heartbeats: Damn, that sucks.
jetblackrose: Why do you have a gf?
drumming_heartbeats: No. I did. But we broke up like a few months ago.
jetblackrose: Aw, sorry to hear that.
drumming_heartbeats: Lol, I think you’re the first person to say that. Normally people are sorry to hear I’m IN a relationship, not out of one.
jetblackrose: Wtf? That’s so dumb, lol. You’re my friend, Tom. I want you to be happy.
drumming_heartbeats: Aw, I’m your friend?
jetblackrose: Yes…? I mean, we’ve talked all day every day for like what? A month? I swear I talk more with you than my real life friends lol.
drumming_heartbeats: Aw, that’s so cute! You’re my friend too, btw. If that wasn’t obvious. I really like talking with you.
jetblackrose: I really like talking with you too! Like, I know it’s probably really stupid to say, but I never really got how people can become friends online. Like how can you feel connected to someone you never actually met, you know? But talking with you, I get it. I’m glad you messaged me.
drumming_heartbeats: Aw, Gen baby, you’re gonna make me blush! That’s so fuckin’ cute. I’m glad I messaged you too. You feel more real to me than the friends I actually see lol.
jetblackrose: Looks like we’re both gonna make the other blush… Dude! Honestly, I think it’s because we can only talk. Like, we can’t actually see each other, so we have to rely on these messages. And it’s a lot easier for me to not be shy when I message someone. Because I can delete what sounds stupid!
drumming_heartbeats: Lmao! Nothing you say could ever be stupid.
jetblackrose: You say that now… Trust me though, in person I’m a fuckin nervous idiot. Like I talk too fast or not at all.
drumming_heartbeats: I bet you’re fuckin cute in person.
jetblackrose: Lmao, are you hitting on me?
drumming_heartbeats: Too much?
jetblackrose: Nah, lol. I don’t scare easy. I just bet you’re way cuter.
drumming_heartbeats: Not even! Have you SEEN your face?
jetblackrose: You mean this face? *picture*
drumming_heartbeats: Damn, baby!
jetblackrose: Fuck… is it really dumb of me to like you calling me “baby” so much?
drumming_heartbeats: I mean… I don’t think so? Like, I would hope it doesn’t bother you.
jetblackrose: No, it doesn’t bother me. I like it.
drumming_heartbeats: Cool! Cuz I like calling you that.
~~~
drumming_heartbeats: Is this your king? *picture*
jetblackrose: My brain literally went “oh daddy”... I DON”T EVEN HAVE A DADDY KINK! Ashton Irwin is going to be the death of me, watch. On my tombstone it’ll read “Gen. Killed by Ash’s hotness”
drumming_heartbeats: Omg lol!
jetblackrose: Too dramatic?
drumming_heartbeats: I mean…? Maybe?
jetblackrose: Maybe? Nah. What would be dramatic would be me saying how badly I want those arms of his wrapped around me. Like cuddling me. Choking me. I don’t even care. But those hands? I needs them on me!
drumming_heartbeats: You’re right. That would be dramatic lol.
jetblackrose: Like fuck… I bet those are the most restless set of hands. Like he’s a drummer. So like he’s probably constantly moving his fingers. Is it too much to ask that he moves those fingers across my skin? Like… bruh…
drumming_heartbeats: Omg, I love you dude.
jetblackrose: You what…?
drumming_heartbeats: Shit… I mean like… uh…
jetblackrose: Tom, relax. I love you too.
drumming_heartbeats: Shit, for real?
jetblackrose: Yeah. And… that kinda scares me? Like I don’t actually know you. I mean, I know you. We’ve talked every day for the past 3 months. But… I didn’t think I could ever feel this strongly for someone I’ve never physically met. Like, granted, it’s a very strong friendship love. But, I… I dunno if I should admit this… fuck it. I think I could actually love you. Like in a romantic way. Hell, I think I already do.
drumming_heartbeats: Omg, you’re the fuckin cutest!
jetblackrose: I promise I’m not lol. I just… fuck dude, I dunno. I just love you, alright? And it fuckin blows my mind that we live in the same area basically and haven’t met. Because I really wanna fuckin meet you. But also not. Cuz like I don’t want to ruin this. And that’s such a fuckin cop out response. But like I am genuinely terrified that if we met you won’t like what you see.
drumming_heartbeats: Why wouldn’t I like what I see?
jetblackrose: Because I can send you a message without stuttering like a damn fool. I can stare at my phone until I find the perfect way to phrase things. I can’t do that in person. In person I’ll probably just stare blankly at you and make weird sounds.
drumming_heartbeats: I would still love you, Gen. I’m not much better. I’m probably worse lmao.
jetblackrose: You’re sweet to say that. But I’m a very what you see if what you get type. I’m either hyper, loud, and obnoxious or I’m closed off and shy. I fluctuate from wanting to go on all the adventures to wanting to stay curled up in bed all day. It’s why I end up with failed relationships. No one can handle the wild mood swings. Which is fine. I get it. It sucks. But I get wanting a partner who can navigate middle ground.
drumming_heartbeats: Well all those guys are idiots because that sounds fuckin perfect to me. Like I’m a busy guy. And as much as I’m down for adventures, I’m also down to just do fuckin nothing. Like just being with the girl is good enough, you get me? An adventure can be as easy as building a fort and watching movies all day.
jetblackrose: YES! Like fuck, that’s all I want. Someone who gets it. Someone like you.
drumming_heartbeats: Good thing you have me then.
jetblackrose: Good fuckin thing indeed! God, I’m so glad you messaged me.
drumming_heartbeats: Me too.
~~~
jetblackrose: Fuck, I’m so stressed!
drumming_heartbeats: Aw, what’s wrong baby?
jetblackrose: Just lack of motivation. Like I need a mental health day. Only there’s too much to do that I can’t actually do that. Like if I could pause time, that’d be fuckin great.
drumming_heartbeats: Aw, sorry baby.
jetblackrose: It’s my own dumb fault. I know I have to get stuff done and I just… feel so uninspired I guess? Like I don’t want to do work. I want to do things that bring me joy.
drumming_heartbeats: Like Ashton lmao?
jetblackrose: Haha, very funny. But yes. And no. Like fuck I just wanna talk with you all day and bingewatch tv shows.
drumming_heartbeats: Yeah, I get that. But you’ll get through this. You’re strong. Love you, baby.
jetblackrose: Aw! I love you too, baby! Fuck, I can’t wait for my vacation in a few weeks.
drumming_heartbeats: Going anywhere or just like a good chunk of time off from responsibilities?
jetblackrose: Just a good chunk of time off. If I go anywhere it’ll probably just be around here. See some friends. Maybe go to the beach to get some use of the new swimsuit I bought.
drumming_heartbeats: I’m your friend. Can you see me?
jetblackrose: You wanna see me? You want to experience all this awkward in real time? Are you feeling okay?
drumming_heartbeats: I’m serious lol. Why not? We’ve been friends for how long now?
jetblackrose: Like 6 months? Holy shit.
drumming_heartbeats: So is that a yes? Can we meet?
jetblackrose: I thought you’re traveling for work?
drumming_heartbeats: My job is sending me off in spurts lol. Like I’m actually coming home this week. And then I’ll be home for like a month.
jetblackrose: And you want to see me on your time off?
drumming_heartbeats: Why not? Don’t you want to meet me?
jetblackrose: Of course I want to meet you Tom! I love you, you goof. But I’m nervous.
drumming_heartbeats: Lol, why?
jetblackrose: Because I love you this much with having never seen your face or heard your voice. I don’t want to see you and then have to say goodbye. If I get the chance to actually be in your arms, I’m not gonna want to leave.
drumming_heartbeats: Lol, good. Cuz I don’t think I’ll let you go.
jetblackrose: Okay, seriously, I could not love you more. Like are you trying to make me a flustered idiot?
drumming_heartbeats: Is it working lol?
jetblackrose: Yes! Okay, can I ask you a question?
drumming_heartbeats: You can ask me anything.
jetblackrose: Would… fuck I dunno why I’m so nervous asking you this… It’s no secret that we clearly care for each other. It’s also no secret that we love each other. But… is this all in my head? Am I confessing all these feelings and you don’t actually feel the same way in return?
drumming_heartbeats: Gen, baby, I’m serious. I… I want to meet you because I think we can be more than this. More than what we are here through these messages. Not that I don’t love our conversations. Not that I don’t want to stop having them. Because I love talking with you. I wouldn’t trade this relationship we’ve built for anything. But I want to keep building it. And I want to meet you to do that. If you don’t want the same, that’s fine. But that’s where I’m at.
jetblackrose: No. I want to meet you too. I’m just scared.
drumming_heartbeats: Don’t be scared. I love you, Gen.
jetblackrose: I love you too, Tom.
~~~
Gen sat in her car, frowning. Seven months of talking and she was finally about to see Tom. They had agreed on going to the beach as they both felt relaxed by water. But she was nervous all the same. Not only was she seeing her best online friend she had admitted to having a massive crush on, he was also going to see a lot of her skin, as she couldn’t exactly hide under jeans and hoodies at the beach. Not that she wanted to hide from Tom. She was just scared. She flipped down the visor and checked herself over in the small mirror. Then, she took a deep breath to steady herself and got out of the car.
She walked along the pier, the ocean breeze stirring her hair and bringing forth a calm steadiness within her. She leaned her arms on the wooden banister and waited. Her nerves had caused her to arrive a half hour early.
The water swirling around beneath her was hypnotizing. She wasn’t aware of time passing until a voice was calling out, “Gen?” followed by a small tap on her shoulder.
She turned, a smile on her face, nervous flutters in her stomach. As her eyes scanned up at her friend, her mouth dropped open.
The man giggled, a dimple indenting his cheek. “Surprise?”
Her eyes flashed behind her sunglasses and then her hands were shoving his chest. “YOU LIAR!” she shouted at him, her voice shrill.
“Whoa,” he said, grabbing her hands as she continued to push him. “Hey, I didn’t lie!”
“Yes you did! You said your name was Tom!” She ripped her hands out of his grasp, her skin lighting up in memorization at his touch.
“Clever, eh?” he smirked.
“Clever?! Lying to me was clever?!”
“I didn’t lie!”
“You lied about who you were, Tom! What else did you lie about?!”
“Just my name. I promise. And you don’t have to keep calling me Tom.”
Her voice shot down to a barely audible whisper as she told him in a horrified tone, “If I don’t call you Tom, then this becomes real. Really real. And then I’m the lunatic who just shoved my favorite drummer from my favorite band while screaming that he was a liar. And… STOP SMIRKING, ASHTON!”
Ashton held up his hands defensively and took a step backwards. “Alright, alright! I’m sorry, okay?”
“Sorry about what? Sorry you lied to me? Or sorry I’m mad about it?”
“Sorry you’re mad about it. I had to lie.”
“No. No, you really didn’t.”
“Yes, I did.”
“BULLSHIT!”
“Do you see how you’re acting right now?! This is why I lied! Can you imagine if we had done this over messages?”
“I wouldn’t have believed you.”
“Exactly.”
“Your friend got you into 5sos… fucking… UGH!”
“Yeah, that was pretty clever wasn’t it?”
“I cannot FUCKING BELIEVE YOU!”
“Well, will you let me explain then?”
“Please. Wordsmith your way outta this one. Be my guest.”
“Okay,” he huffed, pushing his back hair out of his face. “I liked you the night of the party. When we actually met.”
“Oh, my God… my life is a fan fic…” Gen interrupted, eyes wide as her brain played catch up, still not believing this was actually real.
“I have to be careful, okay. It’s not that I wanted to lie to you about who I was. Not that I was. Everything I told you was real. My feelings are real.”
“Jesus, I said so many fuckin’ things to you. So. Many! I said you gave me a daddy kink! I said I wanted you to choke me! I said those things to someone I thought was a friend!”
“I am your friend!”
“No! You’re ASHTON FUCKIN’ IRWIN! And I’m… Gen,” she admitted, sadly. “I’m right where I was seven months ago. Meeting my idol and trying not to read too much into it. Only it’s worse. Because you’re aware of things I never would have told you had I known you were actually you. Please excuse me while I go die in a hole. Matter of fact, I’m just…” She walked towards the edge of the pier, placing her hands on the banister and pretended to lift herself up.
“Stop that,” Ashton scolded with a chuckle, pulling her off the railing and into his arms.
She froze, her body going rigid. “Let go of me.”
“No. I said if I got you in my arms I wouldn’t let go. And you said you wouldn’t want to leave. Now who’s the liar?”
“It’s still you by a fuckin’ mile!”
He let go but only to spin her around before his hands were gripping her shoulders. “I’m sorry if I upset you by keeping my identity a secret. I get if that changes things for you. But it doesn’t for me. I still feel the same way I felt towards you today that I did yesterday. And I’ll still feel the same way about you tomorrow and for the rest of my life.”
“Y-you do?” she asked, her eyes wide in disbelief.
“Yes. Maybe I went about this the wrong way. Maybe I should’ve asked for your number that night instead of waiting for the picture of us to surface so I could find you that way. Maybe I shouldn’t have hidden my identity. But I did what I thought was best. I don’t like being vulnerable. I don’t like putting myself out there. So I protected myself the best way I knew how. You still got the real me, though.”
She stared up at him. As much as she wanted to be mad at him, she couldn’t. He was still her online best friend, and she was still in love with him.
“Look,” he kept talking. “Maybe we walk off this pier and never speak again. Or, maybe you trust me and yourself. Maybe we make it. Maybe we don’t. But either way, neither one of us is walking off this pier the same person we were before.”
__
Tag List
@goeatsomelife @flameraine @cashtonasff5sos @here-for-the-uproars @cxddlyash @1-irwin-94 @baldcalum @sparkling-chaos @tea4sykes @youngblood199456 @5-seconds-of-obsession @gosh-im-short
#phone screens#ugh thats such a shit title...#this is shit...#ashton irwin#ashton irwin fic#5sos#galcal irwin
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