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botwstoriesandsuch · 4 years ago

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Back here with another episode of:

Read Part 1 here!

If you’re on mobile, and tumblr hates this post, follow along on this google doc!

Rules/overview this rewrite in the beginning of Part 1

Alrighty then, so let’s just jump into it!

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Recap! So when we last left off, we had just finished off Act 1 of the story. We’ve used the character introduction segments and the gambit feature as a means to give more life to everyone, without sacrificing too much cutscene time. Allowing us to save and focus the major story details and set up on the more cinematic cutscenes.

I had forgotten, but after Part 1 came out, an anon pointed out that Impa’s character introduction could use some work, and while you don’t need to read it right now to understand the rest of this post, I encourage you to look at it eventually to see the strengths and flaws in the original Impa introduction, and the reasons for my rewrite changes! All you need to know is that eggbot was lying around, deactivated, but when in proximity to the Sheikah Slate, was turned on like other Guardians. Eggbot being activated by the Sheikah Slate is kinda brushed over in the original game? But in my rewrite it’s gonna have some later significance. Also during the Royal Lab cutscene, I want Robbie or Purah to mention how Zelda’s control of the Sheikah Slate is quite exceptional or something. It’s a bit obvious already in Hwaoc, but I need it to be verbally said in a story scene for, again, later significance. Alright that’s it for my added details, moving on now.

After Chapter 1, we moved into the characters accepting the Call to Adventure, whether by the general external reasons of wanting to save the world, and developed a little bit further with more internal related reasons to give nuances and identities to different characters. Revali wishes to prove that his hard work earns him better merit than a sidekick, Urbosa wishes to protect and help Zelda on an emotional level, Mipha wishes to get closer to Link and come back to her family proud, etc etc.

Then, the climax of Act 1 ends with the Yiga ambush, and the characters get a first taste of leaving their areas of comfort, and journeying into the unknown world. Although the gameplay and the successful defeat of the Yiga establishes the Champion team’s strength, our interaction with Rhoam shows us that they still have a ways to go. The momentum into the full story now has a bit of tension and conflict.

So now we crash into the beginning of Act 2, the longest Act in a story, as it’s the part where the....story, happens. Let’s take a look at changes to the Hollows, eggbot mysteries, Zelda character growth, and our first real dip into the character of our antagonist, the Prophet of Doom himself, Astor…

So in the game, Chapter 3 opens on the flank of Death Mountain, our heroes overlooking the view of Korok Forest.

There are a few problems I have with this scene. It’s really stale, there’s no movement, nothing dynamic about it other than the opening shot. They just kinda stand there and say words until Revali’s done ranting and summons Medoh. Also Revali’s dialogue is a bit “much” to say the least, and uh, spoiler alert, he’s gonna be reworked a bit more than the other Champions. Finally, this scene doesn’t have a lot of purpose or substance. Sure, it has some character conflict with Revali and Link and the team, but that’s kinda established already, plus it’s something that I’ve already fleshed out in the last scene with King Rhoam, so it’s a bit redundant. So that leaves this scene serving only as a boring current draw to the Medoh fight and nothing else. This is the opening set up for the Chapter where important story stuff goes down! Needs a lot more substance. So! Here’s my rework.

We open on the sound of running. Link, along with Zelda, Urbosa, Daruk, and Mipha are running upwards on a path by Edlin. They’re chasing a small group of bokoblins and it looks like it’s the end of the fight. Urbosa is more near the back, with Zelda, but Daruk and Mipha both kill a bokoblin, their bodies of the monsters exploding in a cloud of malice upon their demise. When the camera shows each of their kills, the shots are quick, but I want the angle of the camera to be in such a way that the malice evaporates center frame, with Daruk and Mipha being behind the malice. This is because for a split second, it looks like the malice lingers around them like smoke. Huh, I wonder if that’s foreshadowing or something.

Anyhow, Link chases the final red bokoblin uphill, boots pattering against rock. However, we’re now seeing this from a moving, flying, bird’s eye view [quite literally wink wink]

Cut back close to Link, he kills the bokoblins. Stands there for a sec as he sheathes his sword. And then...

“Well I’ll be plucked. You defeated it, eh?”

Reveal Revali flying from above, and he lands in front of Link, but faces away from him. “Who would have thought that some little knight, amongst a group of chosen heroes, would get some action. You must be pretty proud of yourself, hm?” Cue that classic Revali head turn with a glare. Also when Revali says “heroes” I want him to flick his scarf dramatically, while staring at Link’s armour, as if internally he were judging Link on a runway.

Zelda runs up and starts speaking. “Oh Revali, I apologize our meet up with Medoh got a bit delayed. I assume that you’ve already positioned them by now for the attack?”

Revali hums a yes, but doesn’t bother to entertain a more fleshed out answer. Instead, he flicks his wing (as if to say, “come on”) and turns his back to walk up the trail. The others follow.

“I was informed that only the Champions and yourself would be present. What are…” Revali flicks a wing in the direction of Link and eggbot, like a Karen shooing a waiter. “...they, exactly contributing?”

Zelda says some stuff about Link being her bodyguard like: “Well, my father was impressed enough with Link’s actions from the other week that he’s assigned to give me further protection.’ She can say this a bit grumpily, to Link’s ignorance. Daruk can pipe in like “And a good thing too! Always great to have little guy at our backs.” and Mipha can nod sheepishly or something. But their dialogue is cut off by another rude interjection (because hell if Revali wants to listen to more rambling about Link)

“Right, right. And this thing is still around?” Revali gestures to eggbot.

Zelda: “Well, This little one's technological prowess has been quite useful in battle, allowing us to access the rune functions and all. So I figured it’d be a big help should something unexpected happen. Plus...” cute shot of Zelda staring at eggbot, “it just...feels right.” Then the little eggshit can like, chirp happily or make some cute whistle or whatever. Just shove in a bit of that egg fanservice, might as well since I need to better establish its presence for later.

Revali mutters something about “big help,” before gesticulating with his wings as he continues walking up the trial. “Mooore like a big liability should anything happen to your little pet, and one of us be forced to risk our lives just to save it from becoming scrap. Honestly, when it comes to you, and you.” Revali points to both eggbot and Link, “Your presence is an entire waste of time. ‘Backup?’ Help?’ Tsk. Humouring.” Eggbot can make a noise or something while Link just tilts his head. Revali continues: “You’re only here because of a non-existent, fantastical, imaginary hypothetical in which I somehow fail, and I don’t, fail.” When he articulates that last part, he stops walking and does another little head turn/glare, but he still doesn’t bother to fully face him. “I’m sure that your duty will no longer be of importance once your reputation...is nothing but a memory overshadowed by today’s great feats. A forgettable knight, heh heh!”

“Revali,” Urbosa sighs, “How long do you expect us to put up with your showboating and prattle?”

That when Revali finally turns fully to face the group, with a more grim glare. They’ve reached the top of the ledge anyhow, so they’ve stopped walking. This is where the camera can view the Lost Woods in its fullest as it zooms on Revali. Then, that ending is the same as the game with the pan up to Medoh’s presence.

“Fine. I’ve said enough. The time has come to show you what I’m made of. Now witness...Vah Medoh’s divine power!”

So that’s that. Revali is toned down a bit, and his rude remarks have more of a precision as to their point. It’s a bit hard to explain over words alone, but the fact that this scene takes place as the Champions are walking up the trail, means it’s a lot more interesting to look at. (Kinda like the walk and talk premise that you see in The West Wing) Plus, the trail being uphill establishes that hint of power dynamic as Revali is above everyone else. Also there’s just a bit of some botw dialogue connection, not only in just the opening, [Hwaoc Revali vs Botw Revali “Who would have thought” is put in different context based on their development, so it’s a good establishing point to show where this Revali is at in dynamics with Link in comparison to botw, all in just one line rather than in a more longer explanation] but I also scattered a few dramatic irony pieces in there heheh. There’s a lot more reasons why this scene is an improvement [and hopefully to you, it already *feels* better] but I’m not going to explain them until near the end, as its importance is connected to the later scenes of this Chapter.

In fact, that's the overarching change that I’ve made to these cutscenes, I’ve actually connected them and related them to the other scenes. This is the very first introduction to Chapter 3, after all, so it’s important that this introduction serves to be of more significance than “ok here’s the champions, here’s revali, there's medoh. Now go wreck stuff.”

Medoh’s fight is the same, the cutscenes after are mostly the same. Except here, when everyone runs into Korok forest and you see Astor, I want this scene to end not on Astor’s face (because it’s not as significant anymore since we’ve already see Astor in full in Chapter 2 with Urbosa’s stage) but it should end with Astor reaching out a hand towards the camera. The camera angle would be just a bit below Astor. This is because I want the implication to be slightly more clear that he killed those two Yiga underlings to craft the Hollows. It’s a nice little “watch it for the first time it doesn’t mean anything” but watching again it’s like “ohh how did I not notice that” kind of thing.

Then, Hestu’s introduction is roughly the same. I don’t think I really need to rework it too much, since Hestu as a character doesn’t serve anything major to the plot, so it’s fine for it to just be fun and cute. I will however, change just a few pieces of dialogue.

Revali: “Are we even making progress? We could just be going in circles.”

Daruk: “Good point. If only someone could fly above and scout the way.”

Revali: “As though I could see anything through this muck. Honestly, do you even think before you speak?”

Revali!!! Don’t be so rude to Daruk. Like yes it’s a bit funny, but that last part with “do you even think before you speak” is a bit much, because honestly Revali doesn’t really have a reason to hate Daruk. He’s characterized as being rude to Link and those he deems unworthy of respect, but Revali respects Daruk, Mipha, and Urbosa fairly well, considering they were chosen alongside him. So personally, I’d just tweak this to

Daruk: “Good point. If only someone could fly above and scout the way...”

Mipha snickers at this. And Revali mutters more quietly to himself, “As though I could see anything through this muck.” and gives little “hmph!” at Daruk, moving away.

There we go! It still serves it purpose of showing how the Champions are still not completely in sync (which is what I can assume was the original purpose of Revali’s rude comment line) but it’s played a bit more comedic (which makes sense considering this is in the context of Hestu’s introduction) and we get to poke fun at Revali, since just early we had spent so long boosting up his ego. Also Mipha laughing a bit with Daruk while Revali broods adds to that point of them being too busy to see Hestu right behind them.

Another small change, I don’t want Zelda to discover Hestu first. I want eggbot to discover Hestu, maybe they shake their maraca and eggbot notices and gives a little curious whistle. When Zelda notices eggbot not walking with her, she looks right, and that’s when she notices Hestu. It’s almost insignificant, but I really want to establish the eggbot’s presence for this chapter. Especially since this game writes him out of cutscenes a lot.

Final small change. That Hestu scene ends, not with Revali wordlessly shaking his head and following the group after hanging back. But with Mipha actively turning back, saying something like “Come, Revali. We should all stick together. It wouldn’t do for us to get lost.” and then a reply like “As far as I’m concerned, when it comes to mystic swords, magic trees, lucky knights, and walking eggs...I already am.” I’m just trying to keep intact that Nintendo “vibe” of flicking the character stances right in your face, especially since this game's only forms of telling the story are through these less than a minute cutscenes.

OKAY! Gameplay stuff. There are no real mechanic or level design changes to the Battle of Korok Forest, BUT there is one important change that I want to make here.

When the party splits up to take on the bosses in order to get rid of the malice. I think that the Hollows should speak.

Not like full on sentences and stuff (yet) but I think they should mumble and groan and be able to speak a few simple words. Now why do I say this? Well, let’s take a look at how I think we should introduce them.

First off, I think it should be a cutscene. Not just some 2 second animation where the Hollows spawn in. Nonononononono, this needs to be a cutscene, because it needs to be acted, because we need to see the character reactions. Like, if you’re gonna have that cliche “dark evil clone of the protagonists” thing, then you might as well go all out with the angst. In fact, personally, I would have rewritten is as the hollows actually *being* the champions and astor can temporarily control them but then when he sees that fail later in the game that can be his motivator for making the blights to kill them off since they’re no longer of use to him alive or whatever but we’re scrapping that idea because like I've said I want to try to keep the integrity of the original story.

Ok, so you have a character come up to one of the map points, and when they get there it fades into a cutscene. It’s not gonna be super long, but here’s the vision.

Character is in the lost woods, they killed a stalbokoblin or whatever. Just some low tier enemy, and then it dies and becomes that whisp of malice. Great. Character turns to leave, but then they hear something. Like a snicker, or laughter. Cut to this angle from behind the trees, but instead of astor it’s the character you’re playing as.

They go over to investigate, creeping closer with caution, until they see a shadow. The shadow of a small figure, about no higher than Link, with a long, trident weapon.

FWOOSH! An explosion of malice, almost like a fountain behind the character. They turn just in time to block the attack, the Lightscale Trident, but yet...it’s not the Lightscale Trident, because it’s covered in malice. Hollow Mipha is striking from the air, because this is basically her fountain teleportation thing, but malice. Once the character blocks the attack, time slows just a bit so you can see Hollow Mipha’s face, and then cut to the other characters face to give them a reaction. And that’s it.

Then you can pop back into gameplay, but there should be textboxes on the bottom where you can see the character’s surprised reaction like

[Unimportant detail, but if Daruk fights his Hollow self I want his reaction to be like “Woah! I sure look grumpy. I look like I skipped breakfast.” and then his gambit attack is like “eat THIS!” Also Revali can say something about how imitation is a form of flattery]

Through that fight, the Hollows also have like one textbox and a line of Evil™ mumbling and/or laughing once they’re defeated. The laughing is kinda used in a later scene, but it’s never really seen again so I just want that to be more prevalent. You all could probably think of more angsty “evil version of you” lines that are specific to each character, but I’m just thinking stuff like “You...won’t...last” or even just *muttering*. In fact, this is another thing that I want to flesh out with my gambit feature. It not only serves as interaction between whatever two characters you’re playing as, but also as interaction between your antagonists. So if you use a gambit on Kohga, he’ll say something specific about the characters he’s fighting. Same idea with Sooga, or Astor, and now here, the Hollows can say stuff to you.

There’s gonna be someone out there more creative than me out there that can think up some cool dialogue for them, but basically what I want to establish is that we know that these Hollows are made from people’s like, souls? Or life force or whatever you wanna call it. So it wouldn’t be farfetched to give them the ability to speak. Over the course of the game, I want their textboxes/dialogue to be more and more lifelike, like without the pauses or muttering. This is because the entire point of the dialogue is not only to serve that trope of “I’m the evil you I’m gonna say stuff that emotionally impacts you mwahaha” but it also makes them just a bit more menacing in my opinion. Also overall gameplay wise, I think they need to become stronger with the Champions because idk if it was just me, but they were so easy that I just forgot about them.

So! Korok Forest Battle introduces these creepy mumbling Champions, people react and are a bit freaked out, but they eventually clear the malice and we hit the next cutscene.

This is where the shit goes down.

You all probably remember how this scene goes down so I’ll try not to spend too much time explaining it. But here’s my two cents as to why I’m gonna rewrite it a bunch. I think it’s not a good villain reveal.

Like first off, it doesn’t establish Astor as a threat. His memorable action here is the summoning of the Hollows, and while yes, they do beat up Link and that’s very good, it also let’s Link easily beat them and Astor as soon as he gets the Master Sword IN THAT SAME SCENE. There was no time to let the threat of Astor linger, and when we see Link instantly beat him once he gets his Mcguffin, it really hinders the effect of this reveal.

Secondly, everyone is just silent during this??? Like, obviously Link doesn’t say anything, but Zelda doesn’t do stuff? Astor just kinda says “kill her!” and thats about it. Zelda never says “who are you?” or “what do you want?” or anything because as far as she’s concerned this is just some random dude, he’s not Yiga or anything. Also Astor never even introduces himself?? Throughout the entire game??? So while we the player know who he is because of his fancy title card, as far as all the characters are concerned he’s just a Mystery Clown.

It’s just super weird how no one asks any questions during this scene like no one acts like a human being with common sense. In fact, one could say that no one asks any questions for this entire game. Things just happen, and happen, and happen, and everyones just kinda chill. And then Zelda just kinda receives 17 flashbacks over the course of two minutes at the end of the game like she’s speedrunning botw memory%. Obviously having an aura of mystery over the course of your game is fine, it’s good to keep questions lingering over the audience’s head. Just so long as you answer them in a satisfactory way later on. Like, that’s not something I need to spell out for you right? If you set up a question, give the audience a good answer. If you set up a mystery, give a cool explanation. If you set up an interesting character you have to give the people a pay off that was worth their investment into them, right? Right? Right? You understand right? Cause as the writer for a story, it’s you’re to explain the significance and importance of why things happen in a creative way. It’s almost as if that’s the entire purpose of storytelling, you know, an explanation of events in a compelling manner. Like please, this is a concept that you are able to grasp right? This isn’t just me right? See that’s how writing works when setting up anything ever, you gotta give an explanation to the choices you make in the plot. You gotta explain why. You gotta explain why. Explain why. Explain why. Explain, why? Explain, why? Why? Why? WHy? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WH

Sorry I got carried away. Anyhow, here’s the rewrite.

Link and Zelda don’t enter the forest at the same time. They run through the wooden tunnel thing, and Link makes a gesture like “go!” while he stays back a bit to hold off some monsters like stal-lizalfos or something. So Zelda runs into the center of Korok Forest.

As far as any of the characters know, this is a safe haven now, this was their destination, so there’s no monsters here, so they’re good. The princess is safe, the Champions are just cleaning up in their respective corners of the forest with the Hollows, and Link is fighting off the monsters by the entrance. So while there is still tension from the battle, Zelda lets out a sigh of relief once she sees the Master Sword.

She approaches it, cautiously, but doesn’t step onto the stone pedestal, still staying a ways back in the grass. “We’re finally here,” she says to herself. “Now we just have to protect the sword, await for the hero to retrieve it, and await for destiny to arrive.” She looks down at the ground, and then at the back of her hand (fuck what hand was the one with the triforce, her left hand? I’m gonna say left hand). So she looks down at the back of her left hand, before letting it fall. She turns away from the Master Sword and to herself she just mutters, “I only wish that I could make as much progress in fulfilling my own role...in making myself to be of actual use, like the others.”

There’s a moment of silence as Zelda wraps her elbows and closes her eyes. Then,

“If that is what you wish,” a sudden voice echos, and Zelda spins around to face it, “Then perhaps I can be of some assistance.”

Cut to Astor, standing in front of the Master Sword, facing Zelda. Roughly where he is shown here, but Zelda is a couple feet away from him, standing on one of those rocks.

Zelda steps back in shock for a moment. “W-Who? Who are you?”

“Me?” He takes one step down the stairs. “Oh, I am just someone, same as you, who wishes to see destiny fulfilled.” Zelda takes another step back, and seeing this, he stops approaching. “Ease your mind, Your Highness. There is no need to be frightened. You may call me, Astor”

Cut to title card on his face, it can be like this, BUT, no malice or glowing magic around him, it’s all still lush green forest, and I don’t want as much focus on his astrolabe. It’s just his face, and he’s giving a warm, yet chilling smile.

Zelda is still stammering. “Y-You...do I……. how did you—”

“It doesn’t matter. What matters now is taking every step towards stopping the Calamity, correct?” Astor starts to take a step towards her again, and this time Zelda doesn’t flinch.

“Y-Yes. Yes of course. But I’m afraid I’m still a bit confused. ...What exactly do you...want?”

Astor doesn’t immediately answer. He steps off the pedestal and starts to circle around Zelda, eyeing her, but still with that creepy smile. “Tell me, Princess, how fares your recent training? Adequate progress, I presume?”

He continues circling around her, still a few feet away. Zelda looks to the ground, defeated. “I’m afraid not. I’ve been trying to aid the researchers with the Guardians and Divine Beasts. But when it comes to this power…” she looks down at her hand again. “...it seems despite my great efforts and restless hours of prayers, they have yet to awaken.”

Using his free hand, Astor places a hand on his chest, tilting his head in a sorry pout. The gesture seems exaggerated. “My...you poor thing. How harrowing this must be for you.” He continues walking, eyeing her as he circles behind. “But, I am certain it is not your fault. You are but a child, after all.”

“I…” Zelda is still staring at the ground in front of her. Astor continues.

“I mean really, have you ever stopped to think about how absurd this all is? A collection of mis-match warriors, demanded to pilot gods. A sword for an unseen hero. The lives of us all, in the hands of one girl. Expected to lead us all, awaken a divine power, and save the world, all before her 17th birthday…”

After a beat, Zelda finally looks up at him, confusion and suspicion back in her eyes. “What did you say?”

Astor stops walking, he’s back directly in front of the pedestal. The camera is on him center frame, so that when he turns to face Zelda, his figure blocks the sword.

“Now Princess, is that truly what you want? Do you really believe yourself prepared to live up to such a monumental task?” He’s walking directly towards her now, arm outstretched.

“I—” Zelda pauses, before shaking her head. “Of course not, but that doesn’t mean—”

“Yeesss. Precisely! You needn’t not let yourself live like this, like some beggar to the gods, like a failure.” Astor is walking more quickly towards her, and Zelda is stepping back.

Zelda lets out a gasp of fear now, as Astor approaches, there’s a swirl starting to form around the astrolabe in his hand. “I don’t understand! What’s your point, what do you want? Who are you!?”

He stops walking, he’s so much closer now, just a foot or two away from her. “It’s quite simple my dear.” He gives another smile. “I’m a man who wants to live.”

Fwoosh! The air around them is now tinted purple, the astrolabe’s power surrounding them both. Zelda gasps again.

“If we truly wish to see this realm prosper, we must accept the indisputable truth.” Astor reaches out his hand. “You are not worthy of saving this Kingdom. You do not have the power to oppose such an unimaginable enemy! Therefore I shall relieve you of your burden, for the sake of us all. I will steal, your, destiny!”

Astor is seconds away from touching her, before suddenly...the sound of a sword unsheathing.

Astor flies back, crumpling on the steps of the pedestal, he looks up to see Link, sword at the ready. Link had pushed astor back with the pommel of his sword [because no stabbing or blood for our PG Nintendo game] and the motion has cause him to drop his astrolabe, which now lies a few feet in front of him in the grass.

“Link!” Zelda says, relieved. From behind, eggbot also appears. It walks infront of Link and gives a little whistle and does that sassy pointing thing in the direction of Astor, as if telling him off.

Astor frowns when he sees Link, but when he sees eggbot his face morphs into confusion. “You…? But I…” he glances at his astrolabe. Astor gets up to retrieve it and stands.

“It doesn’t matter how you’re here again. You can’t stop this.” Astor summons the Hollows, and they appear in front of him. It was harder to see in the lost woods, but here in the lush grass, its undeniable that the Hollows are draining the plant life around them.

“Kill whoever he is. Fight the Guardian if you must, though I’d prefer it intact. But don’t touch the girl.” He narrows his eyes. “Her thread shall be cut by my hand alone.”

Then it goes into that action sequence. Link is desperately fighting off the Hollows, while also trying to keep eggbot close to protect it. The hollows are laughing, even taunting him, as Astor is just walking calmly forwards towards Zelda, and Link can’t do anything to stop it.

Then it’s roughly the same, Link flies back as his sword breaks. Zelda is kinda helpless. And then just as Astor is about to reach Zelda again, Link cries out, the Master Sword glows. Everyone looks back, confused. Link pulls the sword. Boss fight.

After the fight and after Link defeats Astor, he’ll say something like. “That sword...is too powerful.” and blah blah blah. He looks up at Zelda. “Should you come to your senses, Your Highness,” he hisses the words, “I will delightfully accept an invitation with your company again.” He glares at Link. “Perhaps one day, when we have more time, you will fully come to understand where your arrogance is leading you.” He stands, though clutching his side in pain. “Until then, I shall make certain we meet again.” Link charges him, but he disappears in smoke and malice. End the Korok Forest arc.

Okay so! Why is this scene better? Uhhhhhhhh because it fucking is that’s why. We got 1) A villain introduction that’s more menacing 2) an establishment of character goals, but a mystery of character motivation to keep suspense 3) a more insightful look at different character’s feelings and thoughts 4) a much more interesting interaction with dialogue that raises tension and properly climaxes to the action and 5) the story’s momentum moves forward with ascending action, and new story details that set up later scenes.

I find it absolutely absurd that in the original game, these scenes are not written with more impact. This is the first look into the real mystery and substance that the story has to offer, and the first real look into the prime antagonist’s head. The actions and stakes throughout Act 2 have to properly ascend and rise in order to truly keep the audience engaged. You can’t just rely on mystery alone, you have to make use of character goals.

Reiterating Zelda’s internal struggles means that this can more easily connect and flow into the later segments where she doubts her ability and sees Link and the others grow stronger. In addition, Astor’s presence is a direct foil to Zelda’s arc. You can already see it a bit based on his dialogue, but I will more fully explain the true depths of how his is a direct foil to Zelda further down the line when all the aspects of his character are revealed. It’s almost as pacing the amount of information you give about a character can properly incite your audience to be more invested in the story, hmm. Anyhow, all you need to know for now is that good antagonists have similarities and aligning viewpoints as the protagonist in the beginning of the journey, much more, than you might think.

= = = = =

That is it for now! I can’t believe I had to dedicate an entire section to just one battle. But! That is how the story must go, as I need to flesh out as much as possible in only a few cutscenes without ruining the pacing. Tune in next time for flashbacks, backstory, Yiga husbands, token Zelink hours, aaand perhaps just a bit of Impa simping.

#Hwaoc: The Kip Cut #Part 2 #hwaoc spoilers #long post #hwaoc #age of calamity #hw age of calamity #hyrule warriors age of calamity

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hazbincalifornia · 3 years ago

Text

Revelations

Chapter 21: Stolas and Blitzo have a talk. Two of them, in fact.

Warnings: Mpreg

Likes, replies, and reblogs are all appreciated, both here and on ao3!

Ao3 link

“I wonder if I’d be unlucky enough for it to be twins.” Blitzo’s fingers traced over the dome of his stomach as Stolas’s head twisted to the side. They were taking another break- the weird heat had broken with a body full of sore muscles to show for it, and it was nice to have a moment to relax. Stolas had offered some kind of smoothie made from one of his plants that had helped soothe the aches some and bring his energy back up after another nap. For now, though, resting against Stolas’s side was a good enough way to catch a few extra breaths- he’d leave later in the afternoon. Probably. It was comfortable, here, and it was much harder to peel himself off the sheets than it should have been. (To be fair, he was pretty sure he'd impaled one of the pillows with his spikes, which helped with that.)

“Hmm? I’d be able to sense that- there’s only you and the one little one in there.”

“Yeah, well, you said you couldn’t knock me up either. Your judgement’s not great,” Blitzo said, leaning back to stare at the dark, velvety top of the canopy. Fancy-ass bed. It was comfy, at least- and helped where he might have popped something in his hips.

Stolas gave a little chuckle. “That was a mistake on my part, and we’re both thinking clearly now, aren’t we?” He tiptoed his slender fingers over Blitzo’s belly. “More than we’ve been for the past few days, at least. It’s just the one, I’m afraid... although twins would be nice.”

“Yeah, no.” Blitzo scoffed. “They’d hold hands and laugh and frolic before life tears ‘em apart like it does to everybody. Happy shiny faces getting dragged down to the dirt because somebody's always gotta beat somebody else, and then it’s gonna suck shit for both of them because they used to be happy and know what it was like. Only one kid’s better, that way they don’t have somethin’ to lose right from the get-go. They'll have u- you, that's enough.” He paused. “Plus, I’m not squeezing two little bastards out, I want to be able to reuse my man-cave all nice and tight again sometime this millennium.”

Stolas blinked all four eyes, index fingertip pressed down just above Blitzo’s bellybutton. “Something you’d like to tell me, Blitzy darling?”

Blitzo looked down at him before slumping his head back, tail idly curling around the owl’s arm just to feel something soft.

“Nah, just musing.”

“Well, if you’re sure.” Stolas pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’m going to go check on Via, then we’ll see about one more round before you have to go back to reality.”

Blitzo sank back down into oblivion as Stolas’s weight left the bed, and he rubbed his stomach as he heard the door click shut. “You’re gonna have him, at least, and you’ll grow up in a mansion. Lucky little bastard. You’re gonna have to annoy him for me so he knows what you were like in my guts, got it, squirt?”

In response, junior nudged against his palm, and he hummed a little, snuggling down into the warmth of how their smells mixed together in the blankets.

_____________

Blitzo had tugged on one of Stolas’s shirts, having given up on finding his mesh one again- Stolas would probably unearth it inside a pillowcase in a week or something. The lopsided Loo-Loo Land apple was stretched out just slightly by his stomach, but the fabric going to just past his knees made it more like a dress than a top. Whatever, he looked damn good in dresses, and right now it smelled like Stolas and sex and had a cozy warmth and he liked that.

“So, what’re you going to do with them once they’re out?” Blitzo asked, idly rubbing his stomach at a nudge from the inside. Stolas clicked his tongue.

“Well, first, I’ll need to get things for the nursery. Some of it will be fine either way, like a crib and some basic clothes, but some will be better for imps and some for owls, we’ll see how they come out. Via tore through plenty of toys when she was little, her beak was razor-sharp right from birth!”

Blitzo grinned. “Oooh, are you going to use one of the guest rooms?” He stepped out into the room and waved a hand, fingers spread apart over his head as he painted a picture in his mind. “With a big starry mobile or something, that’d look nice.”

Stolas shook his head. “Oh, no no no. They’re going to your apartment. You’ll be the one housing them.”

"Ah, right- wait." It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room, and his fingers froze in midair, twitching before dropping \like dead birds. “You want me to what?”

“To house them?" A pause “Wait, you didn’t realize-” Stolas blinked, clicking his tongue. “Oh, poor Blitzy.” Blitzo barely noticed the brief dip into the baby-talk voice because the floor seemed to be melting underneath him, along with his legs. “I assumed it was obvious. You’ve seen first-hand the fact that there’s people after me who would use them as bait. I can’t exactly keep them in a cage in the basement, and goodness, I wouldn’t want to, they’re a child! They’d be interrogated relentlessly because of their half-imp blood, not to mention I don’t doubt that my wife might invite some sort of…” He cleared his throat. “Accident. It’s for their own safety.”

Blood bubbled thick and sticky in Blitzo’s cheeks. “Are you kidding me? That wasn’t what I signed up for! Six months, that was it!” He took a step back, but as his tail nervously flicked in the air and smacked something, he realized that he was about to hit the wall. Stolas was a towering force as the prince crossed the distance between them again with a single smooth motion.

“You signed up for this ‘as long as I agreed to help.’ I’ll give you as much monetary assistance as I can, of course, and I do plan to help in-person as often as possible, I care for both of you and this was-“

“That’s still- I can’t handle a fucking baby! Loona was seventeen when I adopted her!”

“You’re smart, Blitzy.” Stolas’s fingers cupped Blitzo’s chin and tilted it upwards. He’d never felt smaller, Stolas’s frame nearly blocking out the overhead light from this angle. “You care about your hellhound and your little employees plenty. I know you, you'll figure it out. Come now, I don’t intend to leave you to flounder, we both wanted this-”

“So you’re just making me do all the hard parts? Fuck you!” Blitzo’s chest was pumping like billows as he was caught on the edge of hyperventilation. “This is- this is just-”

“This is what you agreed to,” Stolas said, quietly but firmly. “You love your daughter as much as I love mine- when you’re less hormonal, you’ll agree with me. I’ll still do my part, and you’ll do yours, my little imp. It’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll be there for them, but it's not my fault you never asked what would happen.” The hand against his face warmed, and when Blitzo’s eyes flickered down, both it and his stomach were glowing.

"You were the one all gung-ho about it, I just figured you wanted to deal with that shit." He swallowed as the pieces snapped into place, and wished desperately he’d brought some kind of weapon to smash directly in Stolas’s fucking face with that concerned little fucking smile like everything was perfectly fine and dandy and not falling to bloody, future-destroying pieces.

There was always a catch.

“I can’t get rid of it now.”

“I cast a protection spell when you made the deal,” Stolas said, crouching down and still somehow being slightly taller as his gaze dragged Blitzo all the way to the bottom of the Rings. “To be sure you wouldn’t go back on your word. They’re safer that way- both of you are.”

Blitzo scooted sideways and shoved Stolas’s hand away, the glow fading as he did. “I need to go.”

“What’s the hurry? I thought we were having a good time. I know this must be surprising, but it's an honor for-”

“Something at work. Urgent. Just remembered. They need me.” His tail curled up and around his belly and squeezed, the point digging into the side. “The heat’s gone, we’re done here.”

“Don’t do anything irrational, darling,” Stolas said, straightening up just as there was a pounding on the door. “Who is it?”

“Me, sir.” It took Blitzo a few seconds to clock the voice as the butler’s. It had been eons since he’d last heard it.

“What’s so important? I’m in the middle of something.” Stolas’s tone dipped to irritation as the butler pushed the door open.

“It’s your wife, your highness. She returned home early.”

#I know nothing about the biblical book of revelations except it's the apocalypse one and. yeah #one time #shadow writes stuff #helluva mpreg #daddy blitzo

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abalonetea · 3 years ago

Text

Just Keep Breathing: Chapter One

I was partnered with @the-dot for the @originalfictionbigbang! Thank you for working with me, Dot!

Here is the first chapter! I’ve split the first 10k words between four chapters, and will be posting them all in a masterpost in just a moment!

Summary: It’s the height of storm season and everyone in Hi-Banks, Florida is getting ready for the bad weather. It should be a year like any other - but on the tails of a national pandemic, a new disaster strikes. More than one new disasters. So many disasters that Eddie Carver would like to put some of them back, thanks. He’s just a down on his luck guy living in the local trailer park with his boyfriend. He’s not interested in dealing with the revival of an old murder case - which he knows nothing about, thanks -, the storm season of the century, or…zombies?

Yeah. Absolutely not interested in the zombies.

This black-comedy follows the inner workings of a small town as they band together to survive, and the young man - reckless, mean, angry, written off b the big city folk come to look into a cold case - that might hold all of societies survival in his hands.

Forget about society. Eddie’s only interested in keeping his friends alive.

Chapter One – Hi Banks Florida

“ - increased reports of unprecedented aggression all across New York City. This is following in the wake of Mayor Alex Grand’s assault on his wife. These attacks have increased nearly ten fold in the wake of the recent vaccine’s release, prompting many to wonder if the vaccine was released too soon – should more tests have been done? Could this be a side effect of it? We have reached out to the head of the FDA, Doctor - “

The television goes to pure static, a hissing crackle of black and white fuzz. Eddie groans. “Seriously? I was watchin’ that!”

“Guess you ain’t watching it now,” says Carson, draping himself over the back of the couch. He curls an arm around Eddie’s chest, pinning him against the back of the couch. “You should be at work, anyway.”

“Penny don’t got work for me today.”

“Then you should be out working on the truck. I’m sick of walking to the docks.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. He shifts, leaning up and wrapping his own arms around Carson’s neck, tugging until his boyfriend is leaning down enough that Eddie can kiss him. “I can’t fix the truck ‘till we get a part mailed in. Penny let me use the work account.”

“Bullshit,” says Carson. “You just don’t want too.”

“It ain’t bullshit. It’s, uh, truth shit.”

“Wow.” Carson shakes off Eddie’s grip. “You worked hard on that one, huh? Whatever, don’t work on the truck. I’ve got actual work to get too.”

Eddie twists, pulling himself up so he can drape over the back of the couch. “Gonna rain today. Take an extra shirt.”

Carson says, “sure, I’ll put it in the truck so it stays dry. Oh, wait.”

And, okay, so Eddie kind of deserves that one. The truck hasn’t been running for almost a week now. This isn’t the first time that it’s stopped working. Carson bought it straight out of the local junkyard five years back, and it’s pretty much held together with duck tape – literally – and chewing gum – which might be the next step.

Eddie really is waiting on the part to come in.

The problem is that he sort of forgot to order it until yesterday.

Drooping, Eddie makes a disgruntled sound. “I’ll see if I can’t fudge it, okay? Just, I dunno, don’t get hit by lightning. The storm’s supposed to be nasty.”

“Great.” Carson shoves on one boot, then the other. “So we’re going to have no power tonight.”

“I’ll fill the tub.”

“Summer sucks ass.”

“Florida sucks ass,” corrects Eddie.

Carson thinks on it, then bobs his head in agreement. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go with that one.”

“You gonna be home for - “ The television bursts back into being with a crackle of too loud sound. Eddie swears.

The woman on TV reads off, “ - no official links between the two. Gerald Harbrinks has been arrested today for the most bizarre case of armed robbery the county has ever seen, in which he dropped his gun and instead chose to bite the cashier - “

Eddie mutes it. “Sorry. One’a these days we need to get actual cable.”

“Yeah, when toads fly,” says Carson. “You doing dinner?”

Eddie thinks about what they have in the pantry. Not much, but probably enough to throw at least half a meal together. He’s better at cooking and coming up with things than Carson is. “Yeah. You going to be back before dark?”

Carson shrugs. “How should I know? They never tell me anything. I might not even have to stay if it rains.”

“Babe, if it rains, they’re gonna make you stay out of spite, and you know it,” says Eddie, because the guy who runs the docks is kind of an ass.

Carson grunts. “Thanks for the reassurance.”

“No problem.” Eddie shuts the TV off all the way and finally pries himself up off of the couch. “So, dinner, unless we lose power. We’ll have to hit up Red’s. He’s got that grill or whatever.”

He sways his way over to his boyfriend, plasters himself against Carson’s front and schmoozes his way in for a kiss. Carson curls an arm around him for a moment, then makes a face. “Come on, man. I gotta at least get down there before the rain starts or I won’t make shit.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” says Eddie. “Get outta here. Don’t get drowned or nothing.”

* * *

Hi Banks, Florida is the sort of place you’re born into, you slog through, and then you die in. And mostly, the people are okay with that. Why leave a good thing, right? Or maybe it’s more that the people born into Hi Banks just have a hard time getting together the chance to leave.

The trailer park is on the backside of town, filled up with old mobile homes and trailers parked up on cinder blocks. The paths between homes flood any time it rains and Eddie makes a point of sloshing his way through the puddles until the inside of his sneakers are soaked and his stained up jeans are covered in mud. Splash! Slosh! Splat!

The Calloway’s have added a new pick up truck to the collection of cars sitting out front. Eddie would bet it’s like the rest of their vehicles and the engine doesn’t actually roll over. Not that he can say too much on that front, considering his own truck.

If there’s any chance that he can trick the thing into running, he needs another quart of oil and – well, it is his fault that Carson’s going to have to walk home in the rain later, so Eddie figures he’ll pick up a box of swiss rolls while he’s out. Swiss rolls are Carson’s favorite.

Sweets in general are his favorite, but whatever.

So he sloshes his way through the trailer park and out onto the long, main road that cuts through the center of town. If you keep going long enough in one direction, it will take you to the highway. Keep going long enough in the other, you’ll hit the swamps.

There’s just the one commercially owned grocery store in the whole town. The parking lot is mostly empty, which isn’t a surprise considering it’s the middle of a Monday, and also about to cut loose. The wind’s started to pick up and everything, clouds dark and violent overhead. Eddie scurries into the shop, muttering a brief ‘hey’ to Annie Green when he passes her counter and heads towards the back.

Fitz is curled over the meat case muttering under his breath to himself, which is less unusual than it sounds. Eddie opts not to wave at him, and instead just goes for the cake aisle. It’s so picked over that it’s ridiculous. There aren’t any swiss rolls so he grabs the oatmeal cookies instead.

No doubt that the milk and bread aisles are already empty, to go with the alarmingly small amount of paper product. Up at the check out, he asks Anne, “you seen Roy come in yet today? He owes me ten bucks.”

“Nope.” The machine beeps when Anne scans the box of cookies. “Is Ftiz still back at the meat? I swear, he’s been in here for an hour.”

“Yeah. Maybe he’s stocking up on it.”

“Even Fitz isn’t stupid enough to stock up on meat right before we’re due for hurricane season.” Anne holds out her hand and Eddie fishes a crumpled five from his back pocket to pass over. “You talk to him?”

“Nope.”

Anne heaves out a sigh. “Great. Guess I can walk back and deal with it. If he’s drunk - “

“If he’s drunk, call his wife. She’ll have his ass for drinking that much this early in the day.”

Anne snorts. “Yeah, she will.”

Eddie shifts from one foot to the next, peering out the glass front doors. It’s still raining hard outside. “You think this is gonna light up any time soon?”

“Supposed to rain all evening. I’m surprised that they haven’t canceled work at the docks,” says Anne.

“Ugh. Great. Just, double bag them, I guess. I have to walk back in this.”

Anne doubles the bag and Eddie steps back out into the deluge. He’s soaked in a matter of minutes.

* * *

“Fucking Hell!” Eddie shakes himself off as he steps into the trailer. He fumbles around in the dark for the first few minutes, stripping out of his sodden clothes and down to his equally sodden boxers. Still swearing, he drops the bag of soaked oatmeal cookies onto the counter and flips on the light switch for the kitchen.

Nothing happens.

Eddie swears louder.

There’s the sound of something shuffling about from the bedroom. Eddie grabs the natty tea towel off the front of the stove handle and uses it to wipe off his face. “That you, babe?”

No answer. The shuffling sound gets closer. Eddie rolls his eyes and attempts to pat himself dry with the hand towel. It has a mixed amount of success in actually accomplishing anything.

“I got you cookies. They should be dry. Cause of the plastic and stuff?”

Still no answer. Eddie mutters under his breath. Fine, he’ll just have the cookies himself.

He pops open the plastic wrapper and pulls out a handful of them, carrying them over to the couch – where he finds Carson stretched out, massive headphones in, and a blanket pulled down over him.

“What the Hell, man.” Eddie kicks the couch base. “Move your legs.”

Carson grumbles and slides his headphones out. “When did you get back?”

“Like, five minutes ago. I went to get you cakes, but they didn’t have none.” He passes Carson a cookie instead. “You could’ve said something when you came out of the bedroom.”

Carson squints at him. “What are you talking about?”

Something in the bedroom is knocked over. CRASH. Eddie jerks, spinning around and squinting into the dark of the trailer. “So, uh, that’s not you.”

“Of course it ain’t me,” says Carson. He shoves the blanket onto the back of the couch, swings his legs over the cushions, and leverages himself up. There’s a bat by the front door. Eddie grabs it and passes it to Carson, because he’s tiny and Carson’s not.

“Chicken,” mutters Carson, but he doesn’t look thrilled to have to go deal with this. “We got that flashlight in the kitchen?”

“Batteries are dead,” says Eddie.

“Great. Storm season, and we’ve got bad batteries.”

“Pretty sure that’s not a hurricane breaking stuff in our bedroom, babe.”

Carson shoots Eddie an unimpressed look. “No duh.”

They make their way to the little off shooting bedroom, Eddie tucked close to Carson’s back. It’s at least still early enough in the evening that wane, yellow light creeps in through the nearby window. Carson presses a hand to the door, pulls in a deep breath, and shoves it open.

What happens next happens fast: there’s motion from the over turned bedside table. Carson swings with the bat, effectively smashing their lamp to pieces. The neighbor’s fat, orange tabby cat gives an indignant hiss and jumps onto the bed, then out through the nearby busted window. There’s glass all over everything, from the lamp and the window, and rain has blown in from the storm soaking the bed and the table in equal parts. The carpet nearby squishes loudly when Carson takes a step.

“Oh,” says Eddie. “Window’s broke.”

Carson drops the bat onto the ground. “That’s it. We’re going to Red’s.”

#wip jkb #my writing #zombies #original fiction big bang #writeblr

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timextoxhajima · 4 years ago

Audio

Playlist Feels

*SHORT SERIES

Member: j u y e o n

Genre: drama with chaebol/lawyer juyeon

A/N: I’m investing way too much feelings and emotions into this i might cry when it ends. this chapter is more serious i guess i can’t be writing angst and smut every chapter LOL

Link to other parts:

I Never Wanna See You Again

Frustrated (light smut)

Love Somebody (light smut)

Play With Fire (smut)

“i’m playing with fire.”

all you wanted to do was have breakfast, but you walk out along the hallways of the second floor only to watch an entire crowd of staff members push and pull countless of racks across the living room.

the female staff member who recognised you from the previous week notices you standing awkwardly behind the wall, struggling to process the crowd at the foot of the stairs.

you watch her say something to another staff member, before she strolls across the living room and heads up the stairs to greet you.

“i’m going to hope you don’t have any clothes of your own,” she smiles at you, eyes flitting to your neck for a split second and looks at your bare legs.

“uh--” you stumble on your tongue, having trouble finding any words to say. you completely forget about the marks on your neck, and you were only in his underwear with the large pullover barely covering your rear.

“i’m gonna get you a robe while you choose your clothes for today and i’ll run you a bath before you have breakfast.”

you watch as she walks away into the bathroom, and again, you wonder why it was so difficult to think of anything to say. you had expected the house staff to be judging you for sleeping with him, but they all seemed so nice and candid, it was a little difficult to believe.

you just couldn’t get the idea of juyeon being such a kind, relaxed boss out of your head.

she returns from the bathroom with a robe, the water now running and a rose scent begins to waft through your nose. “here,” she hands you the robe and waits for you to put it on.

“mr lee wanted you to pick out as many clothes as you wanted, and he wants you to know not to worry about the price.”

you reach the bottom of the stairs with her standing right next to you, and you see at least three racks of clothes surrounding the living room. there were at least two full-body mirrors next to the sofas, and a separate mobile shelf with shoes.

“uh... do i have to? where are my clothes from yesterday?” your hand unconsciously reaches up to your neck to cover your skin.

“in the laundry! we’ll get it steamed and ready for you by lunch, but right now, he’s told us he wants to see you in something from any of these racks. he didn’t exactly give us much choice either,” she gives you a look that comforts you, gently patting your arm to encourage you.

you choose out exactly five different sets of clothes, which included shoes. you suddenly feel like you went on a splurge and your credit card would’ve exceeded by now, judging by the brands the clothes were from.

you soak yourself in the bathtub, the light from behind you illuminating the white, black and golden surfaces. you couldn’t help but to let your head replay the memories from the night before as the rose scent pulls all the knots in your body apart.

it felt like you were on vacation, when you were really just... feeding off your boyfriend’s wealth. you felt guilty, and frankly, a little worried that people were going to start thinking you were with him for his money.

you haven’t done anything for him besides curse at him, take the credit for his workings for the case and sleep in his bed.

you shake your thoughts away, deciding that it was time for you to get your due breakfast before working on the case.

you were pushing the last few bites of the strange looking pudding around in the bowl, and the female staff from before was in the dining room with you, arranging the cutlery and utensils away from sight.

“hey, uh--” you call out, looking at her while mrs jung comes out of the kitchen. you wonder why it took you three meals before you notice that you could see into the kitchen. the dining table was right next to a black counter where mrs jung would leave the food right after it was prepared, and the kitchen itself looked extravagant.

“you called?” the female staff lays down the plate and walks over to your side.

“yeah, uh...” you scratch your temple, slightly pulling on the turtleneck you chose to hide the bruises he left. “you don’t-- happen to think that... i’m with mr lee for his money... do you?”

the female staff blinks in surprise at you, and before she could respond, mrs jung does the honor.

“oh, my dear, definitely not! you’d be surprised at how good juyeon-nim is at picking out who’s genuine and who isn’t.” you turn and watch mrs jung carry some leftover food back into the kitchen.

“we were very surprised when he asked you to stay last friday, past the time where the house staff gets off work. he doesn’t like guests over, unless they are his parents... so it was nice to see him bring someone back.”

you let a small laugh escape your lips, feeling the blood rush up to your ears and cheek.

hold on.

‘someone’?

“you mean he’s never brought anybody home before?”

“not willingly, no.” mrs jung responds from the kitchen. “juyeon-nim is only friendly to people he trusts and even then he’s extremely cautious, though sometimes a little dense... but now that we know how comfortable he is with you, and we’re all just happy for him.”

you feel a second wave of embarrassment wash over you, your hand now wrapping around your own neck and pulling up the material to hide any possible marks that were peeking out from under.

“you don’t have to hide those as long as you’re here. everybody knows what happened,” the female staff member teases you, clearing the plates that you literally licked the crumbs off from before.

“awh... nooooo,” you whine, hiding your face in your hands.

the staff member laughs at your embarrassment, encouraging you to finish your dessert before she tells you where his office was.

you get the door open, and the first thing you notice was the similar L-shaped glass windows like his bedroom had. the desk sat on the right side, with a main leather seat back facing a large shelf. the levels were alternated between files and small, expensive-looking statues and souvenirs.

right before the glass panels were two single-seaters with a small coffee table between them, and your eyes took awhile to notice the little fridge under the table.

you log into the computer with ease, surprised that there wasn’t a password required. you remember mrs jung saying that he doesn’t have anybody over, and you figure that nobody else has been in his office anyway. the worry about someone hacking into his files was non-existent.

your suitcase was already placed by the table, and you wonder when did it get here. did he leave it in here last night? this morning? or did he get a staff member to do it?

the online system was perfectly synced with the system you had in the office, and all you needed to do was log in with your information before your case displays itself on the screen.

you get to work almost immediately, every now and then looking past the computer screen to look out the large glass windows.

the clouds were so fluffy against the bright blue sky today, and you couldn’t help but imagine chanhee, eric and sunwoo’s reactions when they notice you didn’t clock in today.

oh. chanhee, eric and sunwoo.

you reach over to your suitcase and pull out your cellphone, noticing the nearly ten missed calls you got from them starting about five minutes before the supposed reporting time.

chanhee: where the hell are you? its 7.55am!

eric: did she oversleep

chanhee: she doesn’t oversleep

sunwoo: not with that annoying ass alarm she’s got

you smile to yourself, unable to contain your happiness as you scroll down.

chanhee: why do we have to hear about your absence from our manager?

sunwoo: wait

eric: OH MY GOD

sunwoo: mf WAIT

eric: DID THE BOSS TELL OUR MANAGER THAT YOU WEREN’T COMING IN TODAY

sunwoo: DID YOU SLEEP WITH HIM AGAIN

chanhee: but he’s in office!

sunwoo: so? he could’ve just left her at home and came to work to reduce suspicion cause it’ll too obvious if the both of them are absent

eric: unless...

sunwoo: i’m betting on that and OTHER REASONS

eric: i was thinking about other reasons

chanhee: whatever the reason, call us during our lunch break!

eric: yeah we want details

sunwoo: fucking disgusting

you snort to yourself, ready to keep your phone away and finish up the case.

but the aggressive vibration from your phone stops you just as you laid it down, and you sigh heavily when you see the caller ID.

“yello,” you put the phone down on the table, keeping it on loudspeaker.

“why do you sound so glum? i return from a two month trip and this is how you greet me?”

you roll your eyes, laying your hands right at the keyboard. “hi mom, how was your trip to san francisco?”

“oh, it was gorgeous!” she says with a strange accent. must’ve been the american air for two months. “i was pretty sad to leave, but nothing can stop me from coming back to see you!”

“when have you ever needed to see me?” your tone was unenthusiastic, and you resist the urge to hang up altogether.

“aw, no, honey,” she whines. “are you still mad about last year?”

“just so you know, i’m gonna stay mad for quite a bit, so don’t expect anything different.”

“aw, but you did say you wanted swavroski--”

“yeah, a swavroski ring! not the damn brand!” you huff, burying your face into your hands. your eyes were on the screen, staring at the case document, but all you could hear was the heavy breathing over the phone.

“i take it that you haven’t signed the contract to claim ownership of the brand.”

“of course i didn’t! i left home so i could build a life for myself. you promised me that you’d leave me and my finances and my life alone. you know i don’t want you or dad’s help but you go ahead and buy a whole jewellery brand?!”

silence.

“i’m never signing that contract, just so you know. it’s been sitting at home since you had it mailed to me while you ran off to canada.”

“are you still living in that tiny flat by the lake outside of town?”

you pick up a pinch of contempt in her voice. “yeah, what’s so bad about my 'tiny flat’?”

“nothing,” liar. “i just want you to have the best we can afford.”

“again with the ‘we’. how many times do i have to tell you that i don’t want you or dad’s help?”

“but--”

“no,” you snap into the phone, picking it up and hovering your thumb over the hang up button. “i’m gonna go now because i have work to do. don’t call me unless it’s to tell me that someone else already owns swavroski.”

you finally hang up and you throw the phone back into your suitcase, hands on your forehead as you return your attention to the screen.

needed me? what a load of bullcrap.

maybe if she didn’t treat you like some kind of trophy when you were younger, you’d believe that she genuinely loved you.

you were called to lunch when the sun was at its highest, the blinding rays bouncing off windows and the metal from buildings that it heated up the room like a toaster.

mrs jung’s food never fails to deliver, and the female staff from before struggles to tuck your napkin into your clothes so that the gravy doesn’t fly about.

you were mindlessly praising the hell out of mrs jung’s pasta when you hear a staff outside the dining room shout. you turn at the sound of the doors swinging open, and you find yourself standing immediately at the sight of a lady who looked like a million bucks.

“what do you mean he’s in offic--” the lady finally turns her attention from the staff outside the dining room and to you. “and... who are you?”

so much for that lunch phone call to your friends.

you find yourself sitting awkwardly opposite her, carefully watching as she swirls the wine in her glass. you feel her eyes pierce right through you, and your hands reach up to your turtleneck in a bid to pull it upwards.

“there’s no need to hide,” she nearly scolds you, and the harsh tone strikes a chord in you. “i know who you are.”

what?

“you’re the reason why my son’s fiance is in shambles right now.”

his what--

“i’m sorry, who?” you squint your eyes at her, for a split second forgetting that she was the mother of your now-boyfriend.

“he didn’t tell you?” she offers a smile of disbelief. “and here i was thinking he changed for the better.”

“’for the better’? he wanted to leave the country to do charity work, not run away.”

“he was running away from the responsibilities he was born to shoulder. we do enough charity for him to stay,” she leans forward on the table, one palm pressed flat on the surface.

“but he didn’t even want the damn law fi--”

“mother!”

the both of you turn to the door of the dining room. every staff member within your line of vision looked like they were scared shitless, which was a strange sight, considering how relaxed and candid they were in the absence of this... crazy lady.

who might be my mother-in-law? ugh.

“you should’ve told me you’re visiting,” juyeon walks in the doors and the staff members shut them behind him. he grabs a seat next to you, and it visibly stuns his mother.

“i wouldn’t have bothered if i knew you weren’t even at home,” she watches in slight disgust as juyeon leans into your face and plants a kiss on your cheek. your eyes widen and your heart feels extremely heavy. “care to explain what is going on?”

juyeon carefully sits his suitcase next to his chair as the kitchen staff serves him a glass of wine. you remember the only food that was prepared was only for you and the staff members.

“what’s there to explain? i never said i agreed to marry anybody i was told to.”

you watch anxiously, eyes switching between juyeon, who was calmly sipping on his wine, and his mother, who was so angry that you could almost see the steam escaping from her ears...

“and so you run off and sleep with some random girl?”

ouch.

“will she still be ‘some random girl’ if you knew what she was capable of? she’s closed more cases in six months than i did in a year, mother.”

“i didn’t think a lawyer would let someone leave such savage marks all over her body like this!” she berates you, hand carelessly gesturing to all of you.

“which year did you walk through a portal from? it’s not the 1800s, mother.”

wow, so she blames me and not the one who made these marks?

“girls nowadays.”

you could feel juyeon’s frustration hit the roof, and the atmosphere in the dining hall gets heavier as each second passes in silence.

“what are you here for, anyway? just to ask me about me dumping my fiance who i never even loved? i don’t even like her face, mother. she’s an incapable princess who does nothing but sit around and gets waited on.”

“forget about that, you’ve gone ahead and spent your weekend breaking off the engagement anyway,” his mother glares at the two of you.

didn’t he spend his weekend with his family--

“but i do want to know why you’re back in the office.”

juyeon locks his jaw in odd angles, and if you didn’t know it was his mother who was pissing him off, you would’ve thought he was going to throw a punch across the table.

“what do you mean ‘why i’m back in the office’? doing my job and accepting my responsibilities like you wanted to!”

“and you didn’t have the decency to at least inform us? we were ready to re-sell it to the bureau director!”

juyeon sucks in a deep breath and stands up, eyes tightly shut as you watch him collect his feelings. his mother remains relaxed in the seat opposite you, arms tightly crossed over her chest but her face still brimming with anger and dissatisfaction.

“okay,” he leans downwards, pressing his palms flat against the surface of the table. “if you’re so upset then i assume a contract has already been drawn up, yes?”

his mother doesn’t respond.

“alright, i’ll contact the bureau director and i’ll explain the situation. it’s you the bureau director has a problem with, anyway. it’ll be easy for me.”

your face was turned to juyeon, but your eyes couldn’t resist the temptation to look at his mother. she had just been outspoken by her son, and you felt so proud of him for standing up for himself.

his mother finishes the win, visibly angry. she gets up and leaves the dining hall, and when you hear the lift ‘ding’ followed by the sound of its gears shutting its doors, you heaved a sigh of relief.

the entire room relaxes and begins helping to clear the table. juyeon was the only one who looked like he was about to burst from anger and frustration.

you stand up and wrap your arms around his torso, leaning your chin on his shoulder.

“hey.”

“i’m sorry you had to see that.”

you shake your head, pulling away and hugging his arm instead.

“i’m sorry that i lied about what i did over the weekend, and i’m sorry i didn’t tell you i was already engaged.”

you let the pain of the realisation sink in for a moment, before giving him a weak smile. “well, it wasn’t really a lie. you said it was something to do with your family... and besides, you broke off the engagement.” you reach over his chest and find his arm to pull him to face you, looking up at him whose eyes were filled with remorse.

naturally, a shitty feeling swamps you when you lose sight of his prideful, authorial self, so you pull his face down to meet yours and you feel him melt into the kiss.

“do you need to go back to the office?” you let him go, his hands now resting on your waist.

“yeah,” he sighs apologetically. “i only came back because the lobby called to tell me my mother was here.”

“aw,” you grin in attempt to shake off the tension that was still hanging in the air. “nice to know you came back to save me from your mother.”

a smile appears on his lips, and he pulls you in all so suddenly, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

“maybe i shouldn’t leave my marks so high up your neck next time.”

you sigh with your lips in smile, pressing your head into his chest as he wraps his arms tightly around you.

THE NEXT DAY

your arm was linked tightly with juyeon’s as he walks you up the stairs of the grand hotel, the ends of your gown dragging along the marble surface to the restaurant where he would meet the bureau director.

you couldn’t take your eyes off him, though the simple suit was nothing compared to the dress he had prepared for you within a day’s notice. you reach the restaurant entrance and the lady immediately recognises him, turning to lead you two into the restaurant and in the corner where the private rooms were.

“so just to be clear, ignore your mother and be nice to the bureau director, right?” you giggle as the restaurant staff knocks on the door.

juyeon laughs and pecks you on your temple. “maybe if you ignore her enough, she’ll start wanting your attention.”

you snicker to yourself, watching the door pull open and the light from inside spills out.

you trail behind juyeon and look into the room, and your heart stops in your chest.

the world stops revolving around the sun and your breath hitches in your throat, your grip on juyeon’s arm tightening instantly when you see the two people in the room.

“mother,” juyeon awkwardly starts, only noticing your sudden grip on his arm.

mother.

she looks at you with wide, surprised eyes before they dissipate into a wide smile.

“this is the bureau director, mrs--”

“it’s alright,” she stops juyeon. “i know who she is.”

you gulp and your chest collapses in on itself.

of all people, THIS bureau director just had to be your mother?

Part 6: Bourbon

#timetohajima #timetohajima playlist feels #lee juyeon #the boyz #the boyz juyeon #juyeon imagine #juyeon scenario #juyeon fanfic #juyeon

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firemblem-fics · 4 years ago

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here’s part three! I’m really close to 1k (five away) and I kinda wanted to wrap it up but also like ... leave room for a part four to REALLY wrap things up maybe?? Idk

Also I’m NOT happy wit dis one but I think it’s decent. This was also written in mobile so I’m SORRY it’s kinda badly formatted I’ll shorten it later

parents PT 3. | claude

“What do you want?”

“Can I not eat dinner with my two favorite people?”

“Lorenz and Hilda are at the other table.”

Claude laughed at your annoyance and sat down beside you. You wished August had wanted to sit beside you today, but he insisted on sitting across. He saw everyone else sitting across from the person they were talking to, so he wanted to try it out as well.

“That was a good one. It’s a shame I tend to despise Lorenz more often than not.”

You decided not to respond, instead watching August as he ate the fish you had cut up for him. The chatter of the dining hall faded away as a warmth enveloped your hand. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked down, seeing Claude’s hand on top of your own. You looked at him questioningly.

He wasn’t looking at you. “I just wanna say that you’re doing a good job with him. And that I’m sorry for being an ass about him.”

You were confused. “What? What spurred this on?”

“When August stayed with me the other evening and I taught him how to tie his shoes-“

“I taught him-“

“It was a mutual thing, okay? We both did it.” He sighed, “I realized that it was kinda hard to watch after a kid for even an hour and that I was being harsh on you since you had to take care of him 24/7. So, I’m sorry. And I want to help you more. The kid’s kinda grown on me.”

“Oh, and I haven’t grown on you?” You teased.

“You certainly have, but this is about the kid you’re raising alone at 17. I wanna take him off your hands for the rest of the night. He and I can have a dude’s night and you can relax.”

You watched his eyes for any kind of suspicious glimmer, but it was hard with his hand still on yours, warming your entire body. August was listening patiently to the both of you, excitedly kicking his feet as he finished his dinner.

Reluctantly, you sighed. “Okay. But, please, don’t teach him any bad things.”

Claude linked his pinky with yours. “I promise. And be safe, now, it looks like it’s gonna storm soon.”

You watched as Claude then walked around the other side of the table and picked up August and his plate, the younger boy giggling the entire time. People in the dining hall had begun to watch, expecting you to yell at Claude, but you just sat there, eating your dinner.

The two boys waved goodbye at you as they went back to Claude’s dorm and your heart slightly hurt. You missed him already. Which boy were you talking about? You didn’t really know.

Your hand felt cold now without Claude’s, but you shook it off. He may have some newfound respect for you or whatever the fuck is going on, but he’s only doing it to make you flustered. Hilda said so herself.

But, was Hilda really someone you should trust when it comes to such things? She can be a little… much. But she’s Claude’s best friend. She has to know something, right?

Goddess, who knows.

You cleaned up and headed back to your room, getting ready for bed.

———

The storm was slowly picking up, the clouds covering the normally starry sky. You sat on your bed, reading a book, not used to your room being so quiet anymore. Usually August was telling you a story that he made up or playing with the little wooden horses and soldiers that you had bought him at the market, but now the toys lay motionless in the middle of your floor.

Rain was falling heavily now, pounding against the roof and you yawned, feeling sleepy. You turned off the oil lamp and laid underneath the blankets, ready to sleep-

Knock, knock.

What?

“Y/N? Are you awake… August is crying and he won’t stop and I, uh, I don’t know what to do.”

You turned back on the light and shot up from the bed, opening the door and immediately taking August from Claude’s arms and into your own. The little blond boy was sniffling and slightly damp from the rain. Claude came in and shut the door, sitting on the bed as you grabbed an extra blanket to wrap around the boy as you sat next to him.

“Auggie, what’s wrong?”

He gripped tightly onto your shirt as thunder rumbled across the sky. “...Don’t like storms. Scary.”

“Aw, buddy,” Claude reached over to rub his back. “It’s okay, we’re safe in here.”

August shook his head. “No…”

Claude looked at you and scooted closer to where your legs were touching. He still held onto August’s back. “Well, how can we help you?”

“Stay with me?”

You gave Claude a look, because there’s no way in hell Claude would be sleeping in your bed with you and your son. There was barely any room for the two of you, much less three.

Claude smirked, still keeping eye contact with you. “Of course, buddy, I’ll stay as long as you want.”

You were about to yell at him, but the way August lit up in happiness made you rethink it. He was about to thank Claude before lightning struck and made the ground rumble. He whimpered and buried his face back into your neck. You sighed.

“Alright. It’s late, so let’s get you to bed. If you’re asleep, you won’t even know it’s storming.” You stood up to turn off the light again and when you turned back around, Claude was already making himself quite comfortable. “There’s not enough room for the three of us to lay there.”

“Well, August can lay on you, then. He’s not really heavy, you’ll be fine.” Claude replied cheekily.

You rolled your eyes and pulled the blankets back, getting in and laying on your back. August was already half asleep, feeling comforted by the two of you being there. Claude slipped his arm underneath your pillow and laid his hand back on the boy’s back.

“What are you doing?” You whispered.

“Uh, comforting my son?”

“He’s my son.”

“Our son?”

“No.”

———

When you awoke in the morning, you were laying on your side. Normally this was okay, because August is already up and playing around like you heard him doing just now. But today was different.

Your room usually smelled like vanilla and patchouli- a wonderful, comforting aroma.

Waking up, you smelled Almyran pine needles and a scent that one could only describe as Claude. You opened your eyes and came face to … face with his chest a little too close for comfort.

His arm was still underneath your head, the other draped lazily around your waist as long legs tangled with yours. You could hear August whispering, but you didn’t think much of it until Claude whispered back.

“Auggie, do you know where Lorenz’s room is?”

“Yeah…”

“Can you go to his room and ask him to make a cup of (your favorite tea)? When he finishes, bring it back and be careful. It’s hot and you could get hurt. It’s for mommy.”

You waited for August to leave and close the door before lifting your head. “Mommy?”

“Ah, darn, you heard.” Claude smiled softly. “I was hoping to surprise you.”

“Why?”

“No reason, really. Just wanted to be nice.”

“Claude von Riegan being nice to me? That’s strange.” You joked.

Claude only laughed and leaned forward a little, pressing a small kiss to your forehead and taking you by surprise. You flushed.

“Wh-“

“I think it’s time I apologize, Y/N.” He paused, “I’m sorry for being an ass to you. I know I said it yesterday, but I gave you shit because it made you pay attention to me. You being so damn cute all the time frustrated me because all I wanted to do was kiss you and show you off. But I was scared and I thought that with my teasing, I made you hate me, so I continued to just fluster you. That’s no excuse, of course, so if you don’t want to forgive me then I’ll go back to my place as a babysitter whom you hate.”

Every word Claude spoke made your heart flip a little bit more.

Hilda was right. Curse her.

“I- I forgive you, Claude. Now that I’m thinking about it, you kinda grew on me. If there was ever a moment that you left me alone, I felt a little empty. Are you still gonna tease me?”

Claude smoothed out your hair and rested his chin atop your head. “I’ll fluster you, but in more affectionate ways. If that’s okay with you, of course.”

You could only smile. “Of course.”

You laid there for a few minutes in silence, relishing in the feeling of Claude’s thumb rubbing circles into your hip before the door opened. August walked in, carefully carrying a cup of tea. You both sat up and smiled, taking the cup from August as he crawled up and sat in Claude’s lap.

“Thank you, little one. And thank you, Claude.”

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem imagines #fire emblem three houses x reader #x reader #fire emblem three houses imagines #claude #claude x reader #claude imagines #claude von riegan imagines #claude von riegan #claude von riegan x reader

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jeonggukingdom · 5 years ago

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splinters of love • day VIII [knj]

pairing ⟶ kim namjoon x fem!Reader

summary ⟶ a collection of drabbles (one for each day of April) based on prompts by an online prompts’ generator site. Specifically ⟶ • day VIII ↳ in which you shower together after a very long day at work and Namjoon helps you dry and brush your hair to help you relax and decompress.

genre ⟶ fluff

rating ⟶ PG-17

word count ⟶ 1.483 words

warnings ⟶ slight hints at sex, namjoon being an adorable and caring boyfriend because ugh, I’m weak for him and his dimples

series masterlist ⟶ here (links on mobile may not work, if you’re looking for all the works in this series, you can click on the “!splintersoflove” tag and you’ll find them all there!)

Friday nights are the best.

The moment you enter the comfort of your home and get enveloped by the warmth, your body immediately relaxes.

There is always soft music welcoming you between those four walls and that’s solely because of your boyfriend and his endless passion for music and, well, romanticism.

Every Friday you find the table ready, dinner in fancy plates and a fresh bouquet of roses to top it all.

It always brings a smile on your face, especially when the day has been hard and full of stress and assignments and deadlines.

Tonight it’s one of those nights and you welcome the soft scent of flowers with eyes closed, inhaling deeply in the hopes your heart will untangle from the knots of your stress and start beating slowly again, following the mellow music reaching your ears.

Namjoon finds you like this, standing at the entrance with your lids closed, your lips parted and a little frown on your features.

His voice reaches you next, warm and rich like honey and you instantly melt into it, relax your muscles as you automatically lean into the touch of his hand on your cheek.

“Tired?” He asks and even though you can’t see it, you know there is a small smile on his plump lips, one of his dimples showing as you inhale his scent deeply, humming non-committedly.

He chuckles at that and quickly envelopes you into a warm embrace that has you sighing happily on his chest.

“Shower or dinner first?” He asks in your ear, his breath delicately fanning your skin.

Goosebumps gather on your flesh as you slowly open your eyes to look into his loving ones, finally offer him a smile in return.

“Shower, but only if you come with me,” you pout at him knowing oh-too-well he cannot resist you for more than two whole seconds when you give him this precise look.

He shakes his head, chuckles but then, he is lifting you up from the ground and guiding you to your bathroom with a tender smile on his lips.

You know he secretly loves it just as much as you do, even though he likes to grumble about it sometimes.

The moment your feet touch the ground you shiver, the tiles freezing cold under your soft skin.

You have no time to utter a single word, your silent request probably written all over your face by the way Namjoon’s hands are all over you in an instant, stripping you down masterfully in a way that, on any other occasion would have your mouth salivate for him.

Namjoon offers you a smile of satisfaction whenever you shiver into him, sigh at the sensation of his fingers on your skin, no matter how brief.

You walk into the shower together, completely naked and basking into each other’s presence, marvelling at your bodies and how perfectly they fit together whenever you tangle into an embrace, whenever you kiss or trace each other’s curves.

Namjoon’s lips are sweet like strawberries on top of yours, his hands sweet yet needy as they work through the knots of your muscles, bring them some relief under the warmth of the water cascading above your heads.

He loves using the soap as an excuse to touch you, explore your body to the fullest as you relax into him, hum and grunt in ecstasy for him.

His fingers are heavenly on your scalp, tugging just that tad bit necessary to feel yourself relax even more.

With his soft touch and the water washing away the soap, it almost feels like every other thought gets swept away too, pulled down the drain away from you, long forgotten.

Your lids are drooping down by the time the water stops falling on top of your head and your boyfriend chuckles, teases you about falling asleep while standing in a shower but his voice is filled with amusement and adoration and it makes you smile and relax into him more as he helps you out of the shower and instantly dries your body from every little drop of water.

You know you are lucky to have someone like him in your life but you notice it even more on nights like this when you don't have the willpower to do pretty much anything.

The pyjama you slip into his soft and warm and somehow comforting after such a tiring week and if you could really fall asleep while standing you'd probably be doing exactly that right about now.

"Do you want me to dry your hair, baby?" Namjoon asks in your ear before placing a soft and tender kiss on your cheek.

You open your eyes to look up at him, a small smile gracing your lips before you lean into him to claim his lovely mouth in a silent thank you for everything he does for you every single day of your life together.

"How did I get so lucky, mh?" You mutter, stroking his nose with the tip of your own as the smile deepens on your lips, "I have the perfect boyfriend in the entire Universe."

Namjoon's cheeks turn a nice shade of pink under the white lights, his head shaking left and right a little as he chuckles at your words.

You love it when he turns all shy before your eyes, you love how precious he looks with his cheeks like this, his eyes fixing on anything that isn't you.

You lift one of your arms to place a hand on his cheek, caress it lovingly and slowly guide his face back towards yours so that you can kiss him once more, taste those strawberries on your lips, savouring them while he works on the knots of your hair, too out of rich for you to keep on kissing him.

He tugs on your hair so lightly, always careful not to hurt you. It's honestly a mystery how he can do this so perfectly when he literally breaks anything he touches.

The thought makes you smile and he looks at you through the mirror, a silent question written all over his features.

"Do you want to talk about work?" He asks as he starts brushing through your locks with ease now that there aren't any more knots in them and you grunt at the thought of going back to the office, even if it's just with your thoughts and not your body.

"Gonna take that as a definite no," he says, laughing a little before turning on the hairdryer.

He has become quite good with this, he can almost style your hair if he really concentrates on it and you watch him with rapt eyes as he works through the strands of hair around your face, slightly pushes them back so that they can frame it without getting in your way.

The silence between the two of you is comfortable and it's one of the many things you love about being with Namjoon.

You could talk until three am in the morning about the most nonsensical things or stay together in silence for long hours without the need of breaking it with useless chit-chatter and in both cases, you'd be content. Serene.

"All done," he says as he turns down the hairdryer, almost startling you out of your thoughts and he must notice this because he chuckles at the expression your face but whatever he wanted to say, he keeps it to himself in favour of taking your hand and guide you to the dining room where your dinner is still waiting for you, albeit a little bit colder than what it was supposed to be.

"Did I tell you how much I love you, today?" You ask, tugging a little on his arm until he stops to face you.

His smile is deep on his features now, dimples on full display as he nods his head a couple of times.

"May have mentioned it this morning, or during lunch break, or when I called you earlier to ask you what you wanted for dinner," he says softly, pulling you into him until you are pressed against his chest, looking up at him in full adoration, "But I love hearing you say that so never stop."

You smile and lean forward to kiss him over and over again, your dinner long forgotten again as you lose yourself in the sensation of his mouth on yours, his hands around your frame.

"I love you, Kim Namjoon," you whisper on his lips whenever you tilt your head to the side, whenever you need to stop to breathe in air and every time, he says back to you and claims your lips harsher, needier and you know, as his arms wrap around your frame to lift you up that the dinner waiting for you will simply have to wait a little bit longer.

#bangtanscenery #thekimlinenet #hyunglinenetwork #namjoon fluff #bts fluff #namjoon x reader #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts ff #bts react #bts scenario #!splintersoflove

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sea-side-scribbles · 3 years ago

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Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/80799997

Chapter 71

Birdie was so happy about Nick's offering that she didn't mind staying for a while longer. They chatted and made first plans about what their mutual project should actually be like. Nick showed her his collection of guitars he had in his suite and made use of one of them. He found that their voices sounded wonderful together. And they would look smashing together, too. Nick was very happy to work for such a promising project. He was looking forward to it and it helped him to relax, too. It gave him the distraction he needed after everything that had happened. When Birdie eventually said goodbye to him, they had had much fun, even though none of them had taken Party Favours or got drunk. Nick left his suite himself shortly after, because he had friends to come back to. And when he thought of Virgil while passing by the statue, it didn't dampen his mood. Virgil would've been proud of him, he was sure of it.

At home he greeted his band just as happily and they all wanted to know if Nick's current trip had brought another project into being or solved another problem. Nick implied that he had planned something, but he had to keep them on tenterhooks for now, because he wanted to talk to James first. “You'll make it, Nick”, Matt said and the amount of trust in his voice almost made Nick cry. He visited James in the office and it nearly felt like the good old times. “James, do you have time for me?” Though the half-opened door he could see his new manager leaning over a pile of papers, reading intently. His face lit up when he saw Nick. With a joyful expression, he gestured him to come in. “Of course! What is it? You've been off your own bat for a while now.” Nick grinned mysteriously, entering the room. “This is gonna be great!”, he said full of convincement. He sat down next to James, who couldn't keep his eyes of his rockstar.

“I made my show more phenomenal than it would've been anyway! At the same time I've settled an unnecessary fight!” James lifted an eyebrow. “You remember Birdie? We talked about her, that she might take my place and perform at Memorial Day....She was Virgil's star, too, and she's really good. I finally got to know her. We came closer to each other because of...what we feel for Virgil and I'm convinced we should overcome this together.” He made a pause to take a breath. James didn't flinch. “We'll perform together. I invited her today and she accepted and we have so many ideas...This is gonna be fantastic! The fans will go wild!” Nick looked at James with excitement in his eyes, searching for approval. “This is surely a surprise...” “Yeah! Nobody will expect this! The press keeps claiming we couldn't stand each other!” “Do you really want this?” James gave Nick an urgent look. Nick began to doubt. “What do you mean? Don't you like the idea? Do you want me to cancel it?”

James' expression became mild again. “Forgive me...I'm afraid my inner therapist is breaking through again...I had to ask. I know that you're sometimes doing things because you feel guilty. Do you feel guilty because of Virgil?” And as so often, Nick took the question seriously and thought about it. “I don't know...It's not the same as with Morrie...It's not that I made him go anywhere dangerous...right?” Nick crossed his arms, pondering. Then he dismissed it with a shake of his head. “Actually, I've put up with it until you asked”, he said woefully. “I'm sorry, Nicky...I'm certain you're not to blame, but it's possible you feel obliged to help Birdie.” Nick wiped an invisible lint from his suit. “Well...I wouldn't say 'obliged'...I feel sorry for her, that's true...But I also don't want us to part ways without any ado.” “This is indeed plausible”, James admitted. “I was afraid you do this because you think you can't make it alone.” Nick's expression darkened. “What's wrong with not being alone?” “You have us.” “Yeah, and you will be there, too! Everyone who matters to me will be there! This is going to be a fresh start!” “Does she matter that much to you?”, James asked quietly. “James!”, Nick blurted out, then he caught himself a bit. “Are you jealous?” The manager again didn't flinch. “I just don't understand why you want to impair your success.” “Impair?” “Did you never consider she could steal the show?” Nick boldly flashed his eyes at him. “Do you think I'm so unremarkable?” “No, but I don't know what to think about her.” “You can trust me, James”, Nick urged him. “Also, it's impossible to cancel it now. And I would turn her against me for sure.” James gave him a mysterious look. “In that regard, you can however trust me...” “No, James”, Nick suddenly said pleadingly. “Please, don't...” His eyes glazed over, then he closed them. His hands massaged his temples as if he had an headache. “Ah, well...”, his manager answered calmly. “If you want it this way, then this is what you'll get.” Nick opened his eyes again, slowly and blinking, taking notice of his surroundings again. “You...you're helping me?” James took Nick's hand. “I'm at your side, Nick.” Nick thankfully squeezed the comforting hand.

Jack kept his promise. When they presented the project to the band, he appeared to be excited about the idea and supported Nick wholeheartedly. Not that the band would've been very critical about it anyway. Just as Nick had guessed, they found everything smashing and he didn't know what their true opinion would've been. He regretted that he couldn't get through to them anymore but he comforted himself with the fact that he now had the chance to convince them that he was a good band leader and that he didn't exploit them. When they turned sober again, he would have enough proof and they hopefully wouldn't believe anymore that he had done something horrible to Virgil.

After all, he still liked their company. He could talk to Matt again as if they never had a fight, as if they were best friends again. He was moved by that every time. Chris began to show him tricks again, shared riffs with him and stayed with him for long jam sessions. He seemed to forget that Nick wasn't the inexperienced freshman anymore. In the old days he had learned a lot from the lead guitarist. Chris had taken him under his wing back then and Nick had gladly absorbed everything he was told and shown. He had admired Chris anyway. Later, the lead guitarist had claimed that Nick stole all his ideas. It hurt to think about it, but now it seemed to be obliterated. Nick was sure that real forgiveness would feel much better, but it still comforted him that they were friends again. Or even a family. Also Brad had unlearned all mistrust. He often hung around with Matt. The two had gotten along very well from the beginning, since him and Nick had joined the band. When Birdie finally visited them they simply came along. The band accepted her and they took their time to create their style. Nick was sure he had made the right decision.

Arthur looked around with a scowl on his face. He couldn't explain why the sight affected him that much. After all, it didn't change anything. Or did it? A part of him insisted on it, and that was why he could only let out a depressed sigh while his fingers ran along the cradle. The mobile hung above his head, brightly coloured and rather new, in contrary to the ones he had seen in many damaged houses in the Garden District. However, it was just as lonely as them. He assumed the child had a better fate than the ones in the past. Pondering, Arthur gave the mobile a little push. It began to dance, letting shadows flicker over the empty bed. He wondered how Sally was doing right now. How she managed to get out of town, with a baby. Why didn't she tell him?

Arthur punched the cradle in frustration. The next moment he was sorry about it. It wouldn't have changed anything. She got all the help she wanted. Thinking about the cod liver oil, he closed his eyes shut as if he could lock away the obvious. Not for an experiment, not a Sally whim... It wasn't proof that the baby was sick. It could've been pure precaution. Still, Arthur now believed to understand the trouble he had seen in her eyes. And the relief, when Nick offered her his help. Whatever Nick's true motive had been, Arthur wished he had acted more like him, wouldn't have made such a fuss about it. Not everyone wanted to prey on him, that's what it looked like now. She could've fucking said something!

Arthur had slumped down in a corner by now. Did she think he would betray her? Didn't she trust him, after everything they... No. Not again. He shook off the thought. But he wasn't a traitor. Did Nick know? Was that the reason why he had urged Arthur to help her? For a moment he felt betrayed. But no, Nick was just a Wellie. She wouldn't have risked that. Still, he couldn't help but to feel betrayed. She had a baby, from who knows who, and she left for good, leaving an emptiness that Arthur couldn't fill up with anything. But what was he thinking, he wondered. He didn't care about Sally anymore! The emptiness was created by Nick! He exhaled loudly. Oh, Nick... What had he said about concurrently love? In any case, it wasn't a state Arthur liked very much. Especially not after losing both of them. Finally, he struggled up again. Stop crying!, he scolded himself. You lost Sally long ago and you should've been smarter than getting involved with Nick! He had to keep on, clench his teeth. There was a lot to do.

Nick and Birdie goaded each other into giving their peak performance. Nick noticed how the other superstar's presence called him to discipline again and aroused his ambition. Nick didn't want her to steal the show by any means, and he was sure that she felt the same. They would both give their best. According to that, they were exhausted after every session. One night, Nick decided to show Birdie his secret lair. They both were a bit tipsy despite all the discipline and clung to each other while ascending the stairs. He ordered her to close her eyes as he tried for the right combination to open the secret entrance. The guitars on the wall looked a bit more blurry than usual, and it was harder to read the instructions. He succeeded after a few tries while Birdie convulsed with laughter because he couldn't open his own lair. She quickly stopped teasing him when she stood in the great hall.

“They're gigantic!”, she exclaimed, staring at the golden statues. “Are they turning or is that just me?” Nick laughed. “They're standing still. It must be you.” She punched his arm and he liked it. Going further, Nick proudly presented the next room. Birdie examined everything. “Wow, looks like hell broke loose in here!” Nick had fond memories of that. “And that is where you record your songs?” She pointed at the piece of equipment in the left corner. “Among other places”, Nick said. “I guess I created a lot of my greatest hits in here.” “Are they all yours?” She eyed his collection of LPs. “I guess so...” Nick scratched his head. “All my old songs should be here, too.” “How old?” “Ah...very old...” He searched them. Then he froze, holding a record in his hands and staring at it. “Oh...this is making me...I don't know...”, he slurred, fighting the upcoming sadness. “What's wrong? Are you sick?” Birdie was quickly by his side.

Nick pulled out the record and sighed. “It's our first album...I had it here...the whole time...” “Wow, are you sure?” Nick's unwellness was forgotten. “It's forbidden to remember, but sometimes I just have to...”, he said quietly. “They are happy memories”, Birdie pointed out. “Yeah...” Nick ran a finger over his own photo on the cover. “Is this you with sixteen?” “Yeah...”, Nick muttered. “Fancy hair”, she remarked. Nick had to smile. “I felt so free and wild with it...Hard to believe Virgil convinced me to change it.” “I guess the fashion changed.” She shrugged. “Probably...Virgil always kept me up to date...He had Davy to help him.” “Oh, yeah, he's helping us all...” She looked at the photo. “Who's idea was the moustache?” Nick scratched his neck. “I don't know...I guess it was mine...I always liked Morrie's...” He stopped. “He looks hot with it indeed”, she agreed and eyed Morrie's photo, that Nick hadn't dared to look at. “I know, right?”, Nick didn't hesitate to say. “I...think I had a soft spot for him once...”. She tried to remember. “He was always so mysterious.” “He didn't know how popular he really was”, he muttered, surprised that Birdie knew him. “Poor Morrie...”, she sighed. “Yeah...” Nick's face fell.

“Sorry, Nick...”, she quickly said. “I don't know, why I keep doing this. I can't have a normal conversation since...” “Since what?” Birdie winced. “That's...another unhappy memory.” “Hey, I won't melt, you can expect me to put up with it”, he assured her. “Well...” She crossed her arms. “A Downer attacked me once...I can't really close my mind anymore since then...” “Oh...right...” It downed upon Nick. “I...completely forgot about that...” “I should forget it too...We should talk about something else.” “Are you really okay?”, Nick asked softly. His guilty feelings weren't long in coming. She smiled again. “Virgil was with me a lot. He stood by me.” Nick could imagine that the manager's presence had been very comforting. “You meant a lot to him.” Birdie hugged herself again. “I hope so...” They looked at each other and Nick was sure he knew how she felt.

“It's not a bad thing to grieve. I'm grieving too. I also lost someone who had been precious to me”, he blustered out. “Sure...Morrie...Virgil...” She sounded uncertain. “And another one...”, Nick added. “I...liked them as much as you liked Virgil...” “I'm sorry...” For a while they fell silent. “We're some...funny chaps...”, Nick remarked, grinning a little. Birdie's mouth corners twitched as well. “This is just between the two of us...”, she said and it sounded like a question. “Of course”, he answered without hesitation. “Hey, I have many illegal traits, you could just as well do the dirty on me.” “You know I wouldn't do that”, she said with a soft voice. Nick blinked. “Do I?” She looked at him. “Come on, Nick, put the record on.” “Yeah? You really want to hear that?” “I do. And I want you to dance with me. Let's be sixteen once again.”

There goes nothing, Nick thought. He had the feeling that dancing meant bad luck for him, after what happened the last time. But when he took her hand and saw her beaming at him, his sorrows melted away. They were still there, these people that simply radiated warmth, that made him feel that everything would be alright, that gave him back his strength and showed him that he could still do something right. Dancing with her was the best thing he could do right now. Only the two of them and the music. He could actually be sixteen again, dancing in a club, being free from all worries. She gave him this feeling and he enjoyed it. When the next song began they continued to dance, embracing each other because it was a ballad, and none of it felt wrong.

#we happy few #wehappyfew #whf #whfnick whf nick #nick lightbearer #nicklightbearer #arthur hastings we happy few #whf arthur #whfarthurhastings #whfarthur

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sunshinejins · 4 years ago

Text

if i was dying on my knees (you’d be the one to rescue me)

chapter 2! she’s here, she’s long, she’s very delayed, but she’s here. you can also read this fic on ao3 under the username joylight if you want! i’d almost suggest it as the formatting is probably a lot better lmao.

here’s the link to chapter 1

without further ado!

When Julie wakes up the next morning, she feels slightly as though she’s broken out from the surface of a very warm but turbulent lake. After her impromptu performance yesterday where oh my God she sang again, she had been dragged from the bar by her friends. Guitar Player had chased after her for a moment, before supposedly clocking the look on Flynn’s face and backing off. Her best friend had been quiet the whole drive back, and Allison, besides complimenting Julie calmly on her performance, had also remained silent. Allison’s silence was normal; Flynn’s was not. It was only when Allison rolled to a stop at Julie’s house, Flynn was supposed to sleep over, that Flynn broke the quiet.

“Actually, Allison, could you take me home?” Julie’s head whipped around so fast that she would have fallen if she was standing.

“You’re going home?”

“Yeah, I am.” Flynn’s tone was set and Allison simply pressed her lips together and pointedly looked out the window. Julie shook her head.

“Why?”

“Well you clearly didn’t need me to sing again, so I’m assuming you don’t need me to sleepover either.” Julie’s mouth fell open in shock.

“Flynn, it’s not like that. They needed me-”

“Oh so when three random hot guys you’ve never met need you, you find your voice, but when your best friend begs you for six months to sing again, you can’t do it? I see how it is, Jules.” Julie couldn’t find any words to counter that, seeing as she hadn’t processed that she had sung again, so Flynn glared pointedly at the door.

“Could you please get out so Allison can take me home?” Allison had shot Julie a sympathetic look but offered no advice, and Julie had managed to stumble from the car with her head still spinning in shock. She had managed to get up to bed without her dad or Carlos giving her any issues, but before she could really process what had happened, the adrenaline drained from her body and she had fallen asleep.

Now, laying in bed, she allowed herself a moment to put together the pieces.

She had sang again for the first time in six months.

She had sang again for the first time in six months with three random strangers.

She had sang again for the first time in six months with three random strangers in front of an entire barful of people.

Flynn was incredibly mad that she had done the above things.

And she had a shift at the coffee shop in forty minutes and it took thirty to drive there.

As she pulled on her work uniform and tugged a comb through a few pieces of her hair, Julie tried to feel something other than shock. Nothing came to mind. Maybe if she had just sang again, she would have been able to process it. But Flynn was mad at her too. That alone scrambled her brains.

Her dad simply waved as he saw her tear from the house and into her car. The radio blared for a moment and Julie hesitated. All the times before when music had started playing, she’d been quick to turn it off. Now, she hovered her finger over the off button on the radio for a second before letting it play. Another baby step, even smaller than the one she’d accidentally taken last night, but important nevertheless.

She stumbled into work two minutes before she was supposed to clock in. Allison was already there, expertly pulling shots of espresso and looking ultimately way too put together. She offered Julie a calm smile.

“Hi, Jules.”

“Clock in. Gotta. Almost… late,” Julie’s heaving breaths. Her normal parking space was filled and she ended up parking a good ten minute sprint away. And Julie is not a sprinter. She manages to swipe her card on time, locates her apron, and joins Allison at the espresso machine with her heart still pounding against her ribs. Allison’s hands move quickly enough as she assembles a line of mobile ordered lattes, and Julie takes the second of reprieve from the lack of customers in the shop to catch her breath.

Allison tucks the drinks into a carrier, and finally turns to Julie with the same calculating look she had given last night right after Julie had said the guys needed her.

“So.”

“Soooo…” Julie runs her fingers over the touchscreen of the till. Allison raises an eyebrow.

“You sang.”

“I did.”

“With total strangers.” “Yep.”

“I’m really quite fucking proud of you,” Julie’s eyes widen as Allison finally breaks eye contact and begins filling the whipped cream canister.

“You’re proud of me?” Julie’s voice squeaks and Allison sends her a smirk.

“Obviously. You finally let that killer voice out of its cage for the first time in months and you had fun. And you’re okay. That’s all that matters to me.”

“How did I do that though?” Julie asks, though she doubts Allison will have an answer. She doesn’t even know. What she does know is that when she hit the high note at the end of the song, it felt like her lungs had finally opened up again after a long time crushed under her grief and it had felt better than good. It had felt amazing. Allison sets the whipped cream down and shrugs.

“I’m not sure, Jules. Maybe you were just ready. Didn’t you say those guys needed help?”

“Yeah, I guess their rhythm guitarist bailed on them last minute,” Julie chews her lip, remembering the dejected looks on the faces of her impromptu band. She hadn’t even gotten to ask them if she had butchered the song or not.

“Then it sounds to me like your mama bear instincts kicked in a bit. That, and I’m pretty sure you were into the guitar player.” Julie’s head shoots up.

“What! I don’t even know his name! I was helping for purely unselfish reasons.” Allison raises an eyebrow.

“You’re telling me that you didn’t even notice his biceps? Or that smile?” Julie would normally begrudgingly admit that yes, Guitar Player was ridiculously cute. But her mind had wandered yet again to her best friend, and she felt the familiar tug of sadness at her chest.

“Flynn hasn’t texted me back.” Allison’s teasing expression falls solemn and Julie almost wished that everything had been a giant dream. She missed her, and it had barely been 24 hours. The last time they’d had a fight, Flynn had tried to egg her room. Julie didn’t even want to know what would happen this time.

Allison hasn’t given any advice, which means Flynn ranted to her the whole drive home and she’s either being very respectful or is sparing Julie the specifics. Either way, it makes her slump against the register and attempt to forget her issues as milk froths and keyboards clack around her.

Her shift passes in a blur, the post-lunch rush nearly overwhelming the small shop. Allison leaves an hour before Julie, and as she does, she lays a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Just go see her. I’m sure she won’t be as mad if you explain your thought process.” Julie desperately wants to scream that she didn’t have one, but Allison is already gone and there’s a stressed college student in front of her looking for six shots of espresso. As she pulls the shots, she mulls over the previous night in her mind.

She knows inherently that the reason she was able to perform was because someone needed her. Someone needed help. That was different than people wanting her to sing so she could get back to normal. She also knows she sang because it was a song which had nothing to do with her mother, whereas the songs she sang for class or the songs Flynn tried to get her to belt out at karaoke had all been songs her mother knew and loved. It was a complicated mix of reasons, but Julie needed to sort them out before she went to Flynn. Otherwise, the eggs were gonna come out again.

By the time she closed up the shop with hands still faintly smelling like espresso and sweet cream, Julie had basically given in to the fact that she was never going to figure out how to apologize to Flynn and that there was going to be an omelette frying on her windowsill for the next few days. Then, as she was tucking the keys into her purse, she heard the tell-tale rumble of her best friend clearing her throat. Julie’s head shot up and it was indeed Flynn, arms crossed, and bejewelled sneaker tapping a beat into the sidewalk.

“Flynn!”

“You’ve got two minutes to explain. I’m about to be towed,” Flynn jerks her head towards her car which is, naturally, parked in a drop off zone for Uber drivers. Julie nods quickly, trying to order all her thoughts from during her shift into orderly lines in her head. She needs to mention the “someone needing her” thing, and the “song her mother never knew” thing too.

All that comes tumbling out of her mouth is: “I’m sorry.” Flynn sighs.

“I know that, Jules. But you still haven’t explained why you did it. Why you sang with a bunch of random strangers!”

“I told you, they needed me!”

“Yes! You said that! But how is that any different from me needing you?”

“Because!” Julie runs her hands down her face in frustration as she tries to compose herself, “You needed me to sing because you needed me to feel better. You needed me to go back to normal and grieve and whatever. These guys just needed a fourth singer. You should have seen them. The guitar player was almost crying.” Flynn remains silent for a moment and Julie takes the silence as an excuse to guide her to a bench beside the coffee shop. The silence continues to hang over them for a moment, and Julie is shocked when Flynn finally turns to her and there are tears rimming her eyes.

“Did you feel like I was forcing you to sing? Did I push you?” Julie’s heart thaws.

“I mean, yes. A bit. And I completely understood why. But I just couldn’t sing unless I was ready, and for a bit it felt like you didn’t understand that.”

“Of course I get that, Jules! I’m sorry!” Flynn opens her arms for a hug and Julie tumbles into them without hesitation, inhaling the scent of vanilla that still clings to Flynn’s skin from her job at a bakery near the pier.

“I forgive you, don’t worry. I just hope you can forgive me too.” “Obviously. I know how you are with the “need to help everyone who needs it” thing.” Julie shoves her but her heart soars when Flynn tumbles into giggles.

“I still don’t really know how I did it,” Julie admits, tracing her toe on the concrete. Flynn frowns slightly.

“Do you think it was a one time thing?”

“Maybe?” Julie winces a bit at the thought of taking a step back again. Even though she knows healing isn’t linear, she’d really like to get over this specific part of grief a little faster. She couldn’t ignore how good it felt to belt out the penultimate lyrics of a random band’s song either. Flynn wraps an arm around her shoulders and squeezes.

“Whatever it was, I support you 100%. And those guys were super cute!”

“You’re a lesbian, Flynn.”

“I still know eye candy when I see it.” Julie bursts out laughing.

“Okay, maybe they were cute! But I’ll probably never see them again.”

She thinks.

The rest of the week goes by a lot easier knowing Flynn is no longer mad at her. When she comes to work the next day and regales Allison with the tales of how her and Flynn patched things up, Julie pretends not to notice the private smirk that overtakes Allison’s face as she mentions how Flynn showed up at work. Julie even manages an A+ on an essay the day after, and finally makes a venti half-caf skinny peppermint mocha with no screw ups at work. She listens to music again normally, and joyfully hugs her dad when he notices.

Life’s pretty normal, until of course it’s not again.

Their coffee shop hosts open mic nights a lot, and when Julie started working she requested to be scheduled away from them. When her weekly schedule comes out displaying a shift during the three hour long open mic and her heart rate doesn’t immediately rise, she’s pretty excited. She even manages to shock Allison when her friend offers to switch shifts with her and Julie heartily declines.

“Look at you go,” Allison flicks her towel at Julie, “That open mic really did something to you, huh?”

“Yeah!” Julie smiles as she restocks the caramel sauce, “I actually feel like I can be around music again.”

“I still think it was Grinny McBiceps that did a number on you, not the music.” Julie tosses a bottle of sauce at Allison which she readily catches with a surprisingly loud laugh.

“I’m just saying, Julie-”

“So that’s your name!” Both girls freeze and turn to see none other than Grinny Mc- no! Guitar Player and his band all gathered at the counter with their jaws open. Allison recovers first and arranges her face back into the cool expression she uses with customers. Julie can’t exactly manage it, because even though she’s spent the last week denying how cute these boys are, the hint of abs poking through Guitar Player’s cutoff are scrambling her brain.

“So the girl Luke can’t shut up about now has a name,” Drum Player says dryly, shoving Guitar Pl- Luke in the shoulder to break him from the trance he’s apparently entered along with Julie. Bass Player leans forward excitedly.

“We’ve been looking for you since the open mic!”

“You found me,” Julie’s voice feels dry. Luke grins at her and she feels her stomach swoop as he does.

“Where did you end up? We wanted to ask you if you wanted to jam with us again,” Luke says, leaning against the counter. Julie’s brain whirrs as she processes this, and luckily Allison steps in.

“I had an emergency. Had to take her out of there.”

“What sort of emergency?” Bass Player asks, leaning forward with a smirk and a wink. Allison raises an eyebrow.

“Forgot to take my birth control.” Bass Player chokes on air and Drum Player bursts out laughing. Luke doesn’t seem phased and turns back to Julie.

“So do you wanna? Jam with us again? We’re signing up for the open mic here.” Julie tries to shrug noncommittally.

“I dunno. I’m pretty busy.” Luke deflates, but Drum Player steps in.

“No pressure, obviously. Just if you end up wanting to play with us again, you can. You completely elevated our sound. I’m Alex, by the way.”

“Reggie,” Bass Player adds, though he still seems shaken by Allison’s words.

Julie smiles at them. Luke seems to recover some of his energy at her smile and pulls out a piece of paper from God-knows-where and a pen and scribbles something on it.

“This is my number. Seriously, call me at any time if you wanna play again. We’re totally into it. Even into having you in the band if you want.”

“Dude, stop being so intense the second you see a cute girl,” Reggie groans. Both Luke and Julie blush and it’s at this point that Allison fully steps in.

“I appreciate the business transaction that just occurred, but this is a coffee shop and not a corporate mixer. Can I get you anything to drink?” The boys chorus their orders and Julie turns to make them as Allison fends off Reggie’s renewed advances with a sigh. They leave the shop with a loud “goodbye” and Julie slumps against the counter when they leave. Allison evaluates her with a steady gaze.

“Are you going to play with them again?”

“No clue.” Julie pushes her hands into her face and groans. Allison pats her back.

“Think about it. They seemed nice.”

“Even Reggie?” If Julie hadn’t been mistaken, a hint of flush appears on the apples of Allison’s cheeks.

“Even Reggie. Now get up. You’ve got another hour left of your shift and Caleb told me I’m too nice to you.”

“Still very weird to me that you call your dad, Caleb.”

“Adoptive father,” Allison corrects and turns away before Julie can prod more as usual. She takes another second to compose herself and stow Luke’s number deeper in her pocket before turning to the stack of green tea lemonade she has to make and burying her nose in her work.

It’s later, when she’s sitting alone in her room massaging her sore feet and looking at the keyboard in her room, that Julie truly considers Luke’s offer. It’s not that she doesn’t think playing music with them again will be fun; she does. But there’s something holding her back, and she’s pretty sure it’s the four sheets of piano music laying on her keyboard.

It’s a huge step. A massive, giant, life-changing step. One her mother would want her to take. Does she want to? Julie pulls out her phone and texts Flynn, who’s in the middle of sending her opinions on episode six Outer Banks.

from: julie molina is a star

what would you say if i told you i was considering playing music with those ute guys again? slash maybe joining their band?

from: double trouble

i would say your pacing deeply confuses me.

but i am proud.

and very supportive.

Julie smiles, and sets her phone to the side and stands. Her keyboard sits in front of her, no longer mocking, but encouraging. She lifts the sheets of paper and spreads them on the stand. “Wake Up.” Her mother’s last gift to her. The last thing she needs to do before she can play music again, for real.

Julie’s pretty much fucking terrified.

But she still presses the keys.

Here's one thing I want you to know

You got someplace to go

Life's a test, yes, but you go toe-to-toe

You don't give up, no, you grow

#my writing #juke #juke fanfiction #julie molina #julie molina x luke patterson #luke patterson #julie molina fanfiction #luke patterson fanfiction #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms fanfiction #jatp #jatp fanfiction #jatp fanfic #many other tags lmao #seriously pls read this on ao3 i need validation

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boogiewrites · 5 years ago

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His Own Piece of Heaven By The Sea

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Ruth (OFC)

Summary: Ruth, a nurse at Margate, happens to be assigned to a man brought in off the beach with a gunshot wound to the head. With her kind nature and good heart he quickly sees she is exactly as she appears and becomes fond of her. Asking her to be his personal nurse in his seaside mansion in Margate, an unlikely friendship grows. With time, tenderness and patience they grow to become more. (Done to celebrate PB S5 being released in the US. I tagged those that are tagged in my other Alfie fics as well.)

Warnings/Tags: Sexual Content. Slow Burn. Nurse caring for injured Alfie after After season 4. Possible S5 Spoilers. Started as an AU so... Domestic fluff. Fluffy Smut.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

Luckily for Alfie Solomons, the Margate hospital was only a few minutes from where he was shot and left for dead. Even if it had been carried out at his own insistence, after waking up sputtering to half a face and a high tide, it was now more trouble than it was worth, it seemed.

He lay in a sanitized room. The window was open, he could hear the seagulls and the breeze outside. He found it curious only half of the room appeared before him, but as a quick regretful touch of his face informed him, he no longer could see out of his left eye. He’d been stitched up and medicated, lots of thoughts swirling about his foggy brain. Some perfectly logical, some not. He stayed in that thin veil for some time at first while he healed. After the fact, he couldn’t recall much, only her. As she was the one constant through it all.

“He got shot in the face, left for dead and LIVED!” he hears whispers from the doorway. He was still a mess, scabs and swelling and a face that was half pieced together. He couldn’t blame anyone for looking but he wished in his lucid moments that they’d leave him the fuck alone.

“Go now. Mind your business. The man needs peace and quiet!” she hissed and the sound of tiny hands slapping against bodies could be heard. He smiles with the side of his mouth it doesn’t hurt to and grunts. “I’m sorry Mr. Solomons. Some people have no manners.” she speaks in a soft voice. This is his first memory of her.

----

He groaned in pain. Whoever was touching him, and whatever they were doing wasn’t right. They had him on enough drugs to keep him sedated but the loud roar of pain that rose from his tired chest made the girl trying to dress his wounds squeak in fear.

“He keeps fighting me! He’s under enough sedation to take down a horse!”

“Well, what are you doing to the poor man?”

“I’m trying to clean his wounds!”

“With this?”

“Yes!”

“You bloody idiot.” she sighs and moves over to Alfie’s side. “I’m sorry, forgive her for she knows not what he does.” she rolls her eyes and gingerly takes off his bandages. She barks orders, and in her familier voice, it felt good to hear. He focuses one eye on her as he sees her lips pursed and blowing to soothe his irritated skin. A kind hand rubbing and patting his chest to keep him still. “I know it hurts, I’m terribly sorry.” she tells and see’s him focusing on er. “Hurt enough to pull you awake, eh? Poor man.” she coos and pushes back his hair. “This will help.”

At first, he winces, the cold a surprise, but soon it numbs and dilutes the medication placed incorrectly. “Mmph.” he snorts in response.

“My, my what a chatterbox today.” she smiles and continues running ice over his face, blowing and cooing all the while. She takes her time, as she always has with him and cools his skin, then applies the correct medication to numb then another to fight infection. With a new dressing, she fluffs his pillow and gives his blanket a good shake before tucking him back in. ”Here you go, love.” she speaks, one hand behind his head, the other placing a bottle of liquid to his lips that he knows means another long rest is coming. “There we are. Soon you won’t need my help with that. I’ll check on you later Alfie. Not that you’ll know.” she chuckles. “But I’ll be there.” she pats his hand and gives him a smile as his eyes roll back and flutter shut.

----------

The longer he stayed and recovered, the closer they became. He quickly became her favorite patient and she, his favorite nurse.

“Ruth!”

“Yes, Alfie?” she asks carrying a tray on food into the room.

“The seagulls are being mighty peculiar today.” he answers with a shake of his head.

“What are they up to today?” she amuses him as she takes away his binoculars and sets them on the bedside table.

“Loud today. Storm coming in perhaps. The fuckers have been fightin’ like mad. They know something we don’t.”

“I wouldn’t doubt that in the least.” she smiles and places a napkin into his shirt collar, the tray in his lap. “Always up to something those birds.”

“You understand, Ruth. That’s why I like you.” he announces approvingly. He was rather entertaining when medicated. Although she hadn’t seen much of him sober yet.

“I managed to snag you another bowl of pudding and a sweet roll.” she distracts him.

“Always spoilin’ me Ruth.” he gives her a wag of his finger. “Have I ever told you about how I had a bakery? We made these rolls ourselves.”

“No, you haven’t. Tell me more.” she sits next to him, her shift over but having nowhere to go she cared about. She sits with a book in her lap and listens to the stories he tells over and over. Ones she could recite from memory if needed. But he sounded happy, was so lively when he told her stories she couldn’t bring herself to tell him no. She rather enjoyed seeing him smile.

-----------

Coming off the medicine, Ruth missed those stories and smiles. Alfie was coming down from his highs, pain, and withdrawal both plaguing him. Learning to function with one eye, the dizziness that came from the force trauma to his head and the depth perception problems. She understood his short temper, but he was still far nicer to her than any other person that helped him. After a particularly nasty day, him falling and being embarrassed, angry about being sick from the medicine and his head throbbing almost visibly, he surprised her.

“He’s asking for you again.”

“Right.” she tidies up and goes to the sounds of a groaning man. She could walk to the path in her sleep now. So many rounds and shifts, days and nights spent there with him. “You called for me?” she responds with the same polite tone.

“I did, yeah.” he nods then turn to look at her. “I’ll be out of here soon.”

“That’s what I’ve been told. I know you feel poorly but you are doing better,” she adds supportively. “It’s good that you’ll be leaving. Means you’re on the last stretch of recovery.”

“Do you want me to go, Ruth?”

The question catches her off guard. “I want you to get better.” she states plainly.

“Now I do want the fuck out of here, yeah? But I don’t wanna GO per se.”

“I’m afraid I'm not following.”

“I want to hire you. To come live with me. Be my personal nurse. You’re the only one worth a damn. The only one I trust. The only one that doesn’t look at me like…” he stops himself and sighs. “Would you be interested?”

“You flatter me as always Alfie,” she replies with a smile and her hand to her chest. “But I work here, I have rent I can’t just-”

“I’ll pay ya double what you make now. No rent, I’ve got plenty of rooms. You can help me, yeah? I don’t want to deal with this shit alone. I’ll only admit that to you. This fuckin’... the sight and vertigo and all 'is… shit that goes along with getting shot in the fuckin’ face. I can do it alone, but I don’t wanna, love. I’m finished with makin’ things harder on myself. And you help me, right? You have since I got here.”

“I have. I was the first assigned to you.”

“And the only one that’s stayed.” he lets out a little chuckle that turns into a cough.

“Yes.” she nods and smiles. “I’ve never done in home care.”

“You’re a good nurse. The best I’ve seen here. And you don’t annoy the shit out of me. You’re perfect for it.”

She shrugs, eyes not meeting his out of uncertainty.

“Ya gonna make me beg, love? Or is it more money you’d like?”

“Neither.” she laughs and gently pats his hand. “I accept. You’ve made me an offer I can’t refuse.”

“That’s what I was known for.” he grins.

“I can see why.”

“You go tell that boss of yours that don’t appreciate you enough to fuck off now. You’re gonna come with me.”

“I’ll tell them in my own way if you don’t mind.” she giggles.

“If you insist.”

---------

Ruth, in her simple cotton dress, walks closely behind Alfie as he slowly makes his way with his cane into his Margate home. She hadn’t known what to expect, but a mansion hadn’t been it. Aged and covered in ivy, the walls covered with specimens and art and each piece more interesting than the last, she had to focus on him to not become distracted. She’s careful to follow him on his side he can see on, ready to help him stay steady should he need her. He tromps his way into a cozy and lived-in room, plush chairs and a set of doors that overlooked the ocean. She gingerly helps him sit in the largest chair and doesn’t judge his pained sounds as he does so.

“Your place is lovely, Mr. Solomons.” she remarks, taking his hat and coat from him.

“Who the fuck is Mr. Solomons? Don’t call me ‘at. Call me Alfie.”

“My apologies. Since I was working I wanted to be formal.”

“No need for such. We’re old friends already, Ruth.” he grunts and resituates himself.

“Yes, sir.”

“None of that either.” he shakes his finger at her and she nods obediently.

“Yes...mate?” she suggests with a face that shows her rapid reaching for an alternative and it makes his laugh turn into a cough.

“We’ll work on it.” he chuckles.

“Where should I put your things?”

“There’s a closet by the door, hang ‘em there.” he nods in the direction of which he speaks.

With a quick bow, she leaves and returns promptly. “What would you like of me, Alfie? Some tea perhaps? I can get used to the kitchen.” she offers with hands clasped in front of her. So reserved, he thought to himself.

“Nah, you can go ahead and fetch ya things. Your room is the last on the left hallway, love. I’ll just be here.”

“Alfie, with all due respect let me at least make you comfortable before I go. That is my job afterall.”

“I’ll be fine, you don’t live that faraway. I did make it this far in life without you ya know.” he jokes.

“May I speak honestly?”

“It is what I prefer, yeah.” he turns his head and narrows his eyes at her.

“I do not want you falling or getting hurt while I'm here. I will feel personally responsible as it is my job to care for you and I take my job very seriously. You are... a bit stubborn and I don’t want your tenacity to give you a set back you will later regret and I will be left to mend something that could have been avoided.”

“Well that is...honest.” he shrugs.

“So as per my expertise, I would like to make you tea, perhaps a toastie or something to keep your energy up before tea. I’ll give you something to take the edge off, you’ve done a lot of traveling today and don’t need to exert yourself. I’ll settle you down with a book and some binoculars to watch the sea like you enjoy, eh?”

“A toastie?” he lets out a deep laugh that moves his stomach. “Haven’t had one of those since I was a lad. Sure. Tea does sound lovely after that char they serve in the hospital. Trust you can find the leaves on ya own?”

“Certainly so.” she nods with that same polite smile. “Here’s your binoculars...and a pillow in case you require it.” She moves about the space as if she knows it already. He notices what an observant person she must be. “Be back in just a moment, sir-Alfie.”

“Now SIR Alfie does have a good ring to it.” he teases and laughs, reaching for the binoculars as she opens the doors before leaving to familiarize herself.

“Don’t poke fun of me Alfie. I’m adjusting to this informality.” he hears the laughter in her voice covering the offense taken.

“I’d never, love.” he says with dramatic offense taken. “What sort of man do you think I am?”

“The kind that gets his tea poisoned for being an arse.” she snaps back with a playful smile he hadn’t seen before.

“HA!” he throws his head back, forgetting for a moment in the exchange that he was injured before cursing and mumbling, “Bloody room needs to be still.”

“And THAT is why you need me, Alfie. Behave yourself.” she sighs with a shake of her head as his brow furrowed hard in concentration.

“Yeah, yeah. Make me feel worse about it why don’t ya?”

He hears the sounds of another person in the house. Something he wasn’t entirely accustomed to. The tinks and shuffles of water and china go unnoticed as he focuses on steadying his head.

“Has the room stopped spinning for you to enjoy this?” she asks, standing with a steaming cup of tea and a saucer in her hands.

“Ya quiet as a mouse there.” he gruffs with one eye opening and giving her a once over.

“Not my intention,” she says with her trademark polite delivery. “Here you go. Still hot.”

“Mmph.” a grunt as he sits up straight and sees the swirls escaping the liquid. She stands patient and still as he puckers his lips and blows. He gives her a moment of eye contact before taking a noisy sip. He waits a minute, a slow head nod then a noisy smack of his lips. “Made the right choice hirin’ you dinnit I?” he states with a turn of his good eye her way. “That’s a good brew there, love.”

“Thank you. I pride myself on it. Been making tea since I could pour it myself.”

“You can tell. Good, that.” he adds with another slow sip. “What else are ya good at Ruth?” his tone sounded more like a challenge than a casual question.

“I suppose you’ll find out, won't you?” she answers back quickly and curtly. A small almost bend his way before moving back to the kitchen to impress him with a snack.

------------- He awakes with a twitching nose and the pain that the motion sends immediately through his head. The pain is ugly but the smell that caused it is lovely. The sun was already moving up into the sky and he groans and manages to sit up in his bed without too much nauseated feeling. He’d overslept which normally would be very much unlike him but his sleep schedule since being shot was erratic at best.

“Oh, you’re up already!” he hears the familiar voice chirp. “I’ve brought you breakfast.” she proudly declares, carrying a tray and sitting it on a table away from the bed. “How are we this afternoon?”

“What bloody time is it?” he grumbles as she approaches and checks his forehead with the back of her hand.

“Half past eleven.”

“Fuckin’ ‘ell.”

“The medicine makes you sleep, Alfie. Nothing out of the ordinary. I’d rather you be resting than unable to.” her voice remains instructive but polite. “Here’s your tray.” she places the shelf to eat off of over his lap and begins to arrange the food. “We have porridge and honey. Tea with the same. Good healing properties in it, yeah?” she keeps her polite smile and watches him flinch as he moves his face. “Doesn’t require chewing. And I’d like you to start having food in you before you take your pain medication from now on. So we’ll start here and see how this goes.”

“Ya gonna do the dressin'?” he asks with a tired eye exposed.

“After your medicine has had time to dull the pain. No use in making you suffer more than you already have to.”

He watches her move about with light fingers and a pleasant face. “Why ya wearin’ that?” he asks with now focused eyes. He was referring to the new uniform she was wearing.

“My old uniform was the property of the hospital. I thought since I was still working it would be proper to get myself one.”

"Ya didn’t have to.” he offers.

“It’s no problem.” she lied. She’d had to buy the uniform second hand because she couldn’t afford a new one of her own. Of course with the new pay and lack of rent she’d be able to afford one soon. “The black will help hide any stains and the apron is always useful.” she offers and sits on the edge of the bed. “Now stop fussing and eat.” she directs with a gentle pat to his foot as she holds the paper in her hands.

“What’s that?” he motions with a spoon full of porridge.

“This morning’s paper. I thought you might like to read it.”

“If I wanted a fuckin’ headache, yeah.”

“That’s why I’m still here.” he retorts. “I can read it for you while you eat. Save your eyes.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“But would you like me to?”

“Mmmph.” he nods and begins to nibble away at the flavorful lumps in the bowl.

He was glad she could read so well, he’d had maids that couldn’t before but she was a nurse putting on the hat of a maid as well. He had to remind himself that. He uses his one good eye to look her over while she’s distracted. It was still in his nature to use anything available to his advantage. He’d already been able to surmise that she grew up poor, if she wasn’t still, from the food she served. This new uniform, clearly worn was another sign of this theory. It was a touch too short, clearly tailored for a shorter and smaller woman. The sleeves rolled up and the petticoat fluffing out at the edges that hit at her knees, the undone top button that wouldn’t clasp were all signs of support for his growing back story about her he was concocting in his head.

After he’d eaten his fill, an amount that was approved of by her and a good sign of returning health, she’d proclaimed, he takes his various tonics and medications that begin to make the edges of his vision a bit blurry. He pays attention to her now, his hands clasped in front of him, staring at her as she reads to him. “Would you like me to skip the arrests?” she asks.

“No, it’s a favorite part.” he gives her a smile.

“Very well…” she begins, posture straight and head moving animatedly as she read off the charges.

It was the drugs that made him feel so comfortable with her. But it didn’t stop it from feeling good nonetheless, no matter the official cause. “You have a lovely speaking voice, yeah?”

She blinks with surprise and turns her head his way.

“Bet children love it when you read to them, eh?”

“They usually fall asleep.” she replies with eyes that moved around in thought.

“You ever read poetry? Shakespeare and the like?”

“I am familiar with the works. Never thought it much use to read it to children in the hospital.”

“Mmmph.” he nods. “Perhaps one afternoon we’ll do that. I think your voice would lend a certain lyrical lilt to it.”

“Thank you.” she says politely as she closes the paper. “I do believe it’s time to change that dressing and clean you up. Officially start the day, yeah? The seagulls are probably lonesome without you looking at them.” she jokes.

“I’m a very busy man.” he nods in agreement. “Someones gotta keep an eye out on those bloody birds. Can’t trust em.” he hears her soft chuckle and keeps his hardened face in place, as is his way. Especially when his reactions tended to make her laugh.

-------

“Alfie?” He hears Ruth enter the room, announcing herself as his blind side was facing the doorway.

“Ello. Look at this ship that’s come in today. Never seen one so big.” He motions with his hand to approach him as he holds one eye of the binoculars up to his face. “Lots of cargo ships today.” He muses while Ruth peers out to the sea to entertain him. She couldn’t care less about ships. “Must be for the turning of the season coming. Needin' supplies and that.”

“Yes, I felt the chill incoming this morning.” She agrees with a nod and hands the spectacles back. “I have a question… or rather a concern I need to discuss with you.”

“Alright, go on.” He pats the seat next to him and she obediently sits.

“Tomorrow is Friday.”

“Mmm that it is.” He nods.

“That means Shabbat.” She states obviously as he seemed to not be following.

“Can ya make Challah?” He inquires.

“Yes, no problem at all. But there is the issue of me working.”

“Ah. I see. Yes.”

“I had been considering ways to still observe but not be away.”

“I could be fine for a day on me own, love. Ya don’t have to worry like ya do.”

She didn’t want to argue even though she disagreed.

“You can go off and do whatever it is you like.” After a pause and silence on her end, he turns to look at her. “What?”

She lets out a small frustrated noise. “I don’t really… have anywhere else to go.” She gives a small shrug. “I’d rather stay here.”

“Oh.” He blurts out, surprised at the answer. “Well, that’s also fine, innit?”

“I thought perhaps I skip cleaning on Shabbat. I can not wear the uniform you know? We can work together for tea and I can lounge a bit instead of keeping busy.”

“You know… some company would be nice.” He wouldn’t dig into her lack of social life today. The poor thing seemed embarassed. “I can help with the bread or at least supervise. Be useful somehow.”

“That would be wonderful. We could listen to one of the radio programs perhaps? Or I could read something besides the paper to you as you suggested?”

“Full of good ideas you are Ruth, dear. We can be a couple of mates bein' lazy. Have our wine and leisure as God requests.” He speaks with his hands, an animated delivery that told her he was adjusting well to the less intense medication.

“That sounds lovely. I’d like that very much.”

“Then that is precisely what we shall do, love.” He declares with a pointed finger.

And it was.

A lovely indulgent afternoon to close out their first week together. Wine and conversation. His snoozing through the afternoon as she prepared dinner. He told her stories and she read poetry about the sea to him. She continued to care for him but in her simple cotton dress this time. Her usual conservative hairstyle replaced with a loose fall of hair around her shoulders. A total opposite to the severe bun she had sported. He sees Ruth for the first time and not Nurse Ruth. She shares stories of patients and they laugh. She tells him of past Shabbats with her mum, and he shares some of his own. A mutual bonding on the loss of their mothers. They talk well into the night and only end the revelry when his medication renders him useless. It would be a special time for both of them to share and an instigator for their budding romance.

——————————

“The rest of you needs seeing to Alfie.” She insists. Knowing of his skin condition and back pain. “If you just let me assist you I can get it all in one go and it would be so much easier on me.” She stands with a hand on her hip as he stands with an undone shirt in the doorway of his bathroom.

“It’s a man’s business all his own in the bath. I don’t need your help to wash. Just on the ol face. I don’t want you all...exposed to this.” He motions to his body.

“You act like I’ve never seen a naked man before Alfie. I’m a NURSE. This is what I DO.” She maintains with open hands that chop down to the beat of her words.

“Ya tryin to get at me bits is what ya doin!” He replies dramatically and she sighs and puts her hand to her face.

“Alfie I swear-“

“Ehh. Only teasin bout that don’t get ya knickers in a bunch.” He groans and moves slowly toward the tub.

“You can use one of the wash cloths to cover up if it makes you feel better. But you never came off as shy before.”

“I’ll take ya up on that.” He makes his usual sounds of discomfort as he takes off his shirt. “Now turn and I’ll get in. Having an audience makes me bashful.” He jokes as she rolls her eyes and lets out a chuckle.

“I can’t have you getting dizzy and cracking your head open. I won’t apologize for watching out for you.”

“So you keep saying.” his voice shows his mild annoyance with her caring nature. But he was healing well he had to admit. She hears his clothes hitting the floor and water sloshing about. “Hotter than hell but fuck me that feels good on the ol joints” he grunts. “Come on in then ya stubborn bird.” He sighs out as she’s at the ready with her case of medicines for him.

“This makes this a lot easier on me. I appreciate your cooperation, truly.” She states with no sarcasm as she lines the bottles up and rolls up her sleeves.

“Only reason I’m agreeing to it.” He answers with lips planted together and readying for the bandage to be removed for what could be the last time.

“You have healed up so nicely.” She remarks softly as she studies the now stitchless face, only scabs left to fall off. Some already have done so with dark lines now showing the marks left from the open wound.

“Tell that to me fuckin eye.” He responds defensively.

She suppressed a sigh of frustration. He truly had come so far. He could’ve died of infection or any number of things by this point. “The sight left but the healing it’s done is remarkable all the same. The pigments gone but being able to keep at the eye at all is a teatmabe to your bodies ability to heal.” She uses a cloth to wipe gently at his face.

“You’ll say it’s a miracle I’m here at all next.” He complains.

“I won’t.” She snaps back. “Even though it is.”

He hums sarcastically.

“I feel comfortable not covering it anymore. Get some air and sun on it. Do you good.”

“Can’t wait to unleash this on the world.”

“You’ll be even more intimidating than you already are. With your personality, I’d think you’d find that more useful than a negative.”

“Got a point there.”

“Besides, the integrity of your face is still intact. All symmetrical and that. Your beard is almost grown back in on this side. Just scar and an eye that could pass for an opal. Adds character. And you are a character for certain.” She chuckles. “You aren’t disfigured. In my humble opinion still pleasant to look at. Most that get shot in the face can’t say they still kept their looks.”

“Looks?” He turns with a brow raised. “Are you complimentin' me?”

Her eyes blink fast and she looks away. In her attempts to cheer him up perhaps she’d been TOO honest. “I am.” She nods and begins rubbing oil between her hands. “Now give us this mop of hair.” She changes the subject and leans over to get her fingers into his scalp.

He’s rendered useless. As her nails rake away and wake up his scalp with a tingle. “Fuck that is good, innit?”

She smiles contently as his eyes roll back and he shuts them. “Get your blood flow going and heal up any spots. Very good for you” She says softly as he grunts. She washes his hair, an intimate thing she makes comfortable, the medicine she’d poured onto his face and hair washing into the bath water. “You can give yourself a wash while I put these away and then I’ll cover the spots on your trunk.”

“Trunk? The fuck you on about?”

She chuckles again and shakes her head. “That’s nurse for torso.” She explains.

“I was wondering if you’d sewed me up wrong for a minute there.” His response draws another laugh as she turns her back and closes bottles and wipes them down. “‘Spose you could’ve been takin bout my nethers.”

This brings a further laugh from her. “Nethers.” She chuckles. “That Alfie for genitals?”

“Since you’re a lady I wasn’t gonna say cock.”

She lets out a snorting laugh, shoulders shaking with it as he gives her a smile she doesn’t see. “But alas, here we are.” A happy sort of tone that shows her amusement and lack of offense pleases him in many ways. “Since when do you watch your language?” She sass’s.

“Since I got me arse and bollocks out I suppose.” She covers her face for another round of laughter and he joins in.

“You’re a character, Alfie Solomons. Never met a man like you before.”

“I’ll take what back handed compliments I can love.” He genuinely agrees.

“Not back handed. You are interesting. Unique. That’s what character means.”

“Quit bein’ so sweet and get over here, you’ll make it hard for me to be a grouchy bastard.” He grunts and stands, hand still holding the wash cloth over himself as she turns to get an eye full of dripping wet man in the tub. She was going to ask him to rise up a bit to get to the spots but… this worked too. See gulps and he catches it, a flush of confidence he couldn't help comes over him.

She works in silence, focusing with a furrowed brow she rarely had. She was fighting to not look anywhere she didn’t have to. Her fingers worked into his scaly spots, soaking up the good mixture of healing ointments and losing their redness already. He was dotteda long his shoulders and back, some on his chest and she was thankful there weren't any on his legs to be seen. She remained professional in action but her thoughts were moving in a wholly different direction.

“There you are. Finished.” she declares with a nod, not meeting his eyes and speaking curtly. She looks him over, not being very skilled at being subtle or sneaky as he stands and stares at her. A bit of flex of power as he saw her jaw tighten and lashes flutter.

“You gonna oogle me or hand me towel, pet?” he coos out and she is visible bothered. A quick jump and rush to grab what he asked.

“I wasn’t- I didn’t-”

“Hush, love I'm only teasin’.” he grins, draping the towel around his hips. “But I do believe I can handle the rest meself.” a smirk that gave away his delight at getting flustered is plain on his face but she dare not meet it.

“Course, course.” she mutters out and quickly turns and hurriedly gathers her things.

She goes to her room and finishes putting the bottles into her bag for later. She rubs the back of her neck and looks around at nothing in particular as her eyes remain nonblinking and wide. She was a professional, what was wrong with her? She shakes her head and the image of his broad body remains. Wide shoulders and strong, stocky legs that were made for… well, things she hadn’t experienced in a long while. The time without the intimacy of a man being felt hot in her face and elsewhere. She had heard him referred to as Captain, he was a military man, which would explain the strength there. She looks at herself, suddenly self-conscious with hands to her soft stomach and hips. She supposes it’s a good sign he looked so… healthy. It was in part to her good care and support and she took pride in that. But another feeling that was called sin was bubbling up beneath the surface for his recovery was becoming more and more apparent. ----------------

Time passes and the true nature of themselves reveals itself. Alfie being stubborn and grumpy, although she couldn’t entirely blame him. And her proving hard working and insistent. The banter between them became easy, the routines in place and their roles clear. It was a relationship that both of them felt they didn’t have to work too hard at. Over the weeks they’d grown comfortable with one another, and it was starting to show.

It was one of the last warm days of fall, the cool air getting chillier by the degree every night and feeling it into every morning. Alfie was very aware of winters coming in his bones. An ache in his joints he dreaded every year with the changing of the seasons. But at least he now had someone with soft hands and warm heart to rub oil into the hurting bits. He wasn’t sure what helped more at this point, the oil and massage or the woman who was doing it.

They walked side by side, Ruth dutifully holding his arm out of habit by this point. But he didn’t mind it all that much. She had a little blue dress, one of the many shades of the sea they walked alongside. Both barefoot and Alfie with his pants rolled up his calves, his typical white shirt and waist-coat loose on the breezy and pleasantly cool day. When the sun would peek through the clouds a warmth would spread across their skin, sparkles on the water shone as they walked, their footprints disappearing behind them in the tide.

“Come in a little further, get the cold water lapping about your legs! Get the blood going!” she requests with a hand laced into his, giving it a timid tug in her direction.

“It’s bloody cold, love.”

“It’s not THAT bad Alfie. It wakes up the senses. Keeps you on your feet!” she gleefully announces as she lets his hand go and lets her dress get wet in the waves.

“Last time that water touched me I woke up with a hole in me fuckin face so forgive me for not being as enthusiastic as you.”

“You love the sea Alfie.” she scolds. “You sit up there on that balcony all day every day and watch it and everything in it. You hold no ill will towards it. Don’t make excuses. You can always just say no politely and I’ll listen.” she lectures as she splashes about, the tips of her hair getting damp and a sheen across her face from the splash the sea was waving against her. She looked happy. An innocent at play he thought.

“You’re welcome to it, love.” he contributes with a nod, watching her intently as the waves lapped around his calves.

“Fine, have it your way.” she submits as a wave almost knocks her over, a laugh arising from her shaking chest. “The doctors say this is good for the heart.” she informs without an inkling as to the soft look on his face, eye barely squinting in the dim sunlight.

“Yeah. I’d agree it’s that, innit?” he replies quietly, watching this lovely little siren spin and splash about. He wondered if it was old age making him soft, or if it was, in fact, just her. Perhaps a bit of both. How was a hardened man like him supposed to withstand a persistent assault at his heart by a woman so wholesome? She saw the world so differently, then he did. He couldn’t help but find her mind intriguing. He was already looking forward to wine and conversation with her that evening. Wine was the only way he’d found to open her up a bit, and each week he chipped away at her professionalism. One day he hoped to find something to give him some indication as to whether her kind and caring nature was just that, or if it was a sign of something more when it came to him.

——-

“Alfie, are you awake? I could use some assistance!” Ruth calls out, arms full of packages from the market. As she made her way through the house and into the kitchen.

“Do you think all I bloody do is sleep?”

“I can only work with what my own observations tell me.” she smarts back and he smiles.

“Don’t like it when ya get smart on me like that.”

“Then don’t ask silly questions, dear.” she ties back her hair as she moves past him to go fetch another set of bags from the car.

-----

They work well together in the kitchen. Both their upbringings working in tandem to create meals that both liked. He was a much better cook than she’d expected. She wasn’t used to men taking such interest in it, especially the baking. But she’d never had a better Challah than one that was kneaded by him.

“Did ya get the kosher eggs, love?”

“Of course I did.” she replies placing them next to him as he did a check of the ingredients needed.

“And the candles?”

“They’re crucial, of course, I remembered them you worrywart. I bought the fruit yesterday and the fall compote is in the icebox. The chicken is marinating, I have your favorite vegetables as requested and the broth is beginning to simmer. So onto the matzo balls.” she claps her hands together and readjusts her sleeves up her arm.

“You got the good schmaltz for it?”

“Yes, Alfie. Only the best for such a meal.”

“Good girl.” he praises as he moves about the kitchen with her, a slight hug from the side and a kiss to the head that made her blush at the approval. “These meals are so much easier with you here Ruth. Barely gotta do a thing.”

“Just keep making the best bread I’ve ever eaten and I’ll be more than happy to oblige you with the rest of the meal.” she says with a broad and happy smile.

“You flatter me.” he speaks softly as he dumps out the dough. He places his rings into a small dish she’d brought into the kitchen for that singular purpose. The kneading brought him back to his early days in the kitchen with his mum, the days he instructed the bakers at the shop. All happy memories that were being cast in shadow by the new ones he was forming with Ruth. But all she really could pay attention to the was the strength and endurance of his experienced hands plying the flesh-like dough. She put on records and lit candles, set the table with the last of the flowers from the garden. She had given the home a soft touch, a feminine one it lacked. It was still entirely his own, his things, how he wanted them, she never forced herself in. But her presence did seem to make things a bit more palatable. Especially on the bad days.

— They’d drank their wine, a bit over indulgent but no harm done. Sitting on opposite ends of a fainting couch and listening to the sea beat onto the shore outside the window. The fire roared away, Ruth shivered despite being under a blanket. She despised the cold, she always froze in the winter and without a fireplace in her bedroom she was already getting a bit chilled at night.

But in the shadow of the fire, warm and fuzzy on wine and seeing a snoozing Alfie it was far from her mind. She watched him with his harmless exterior, sat back and snoring lightly in his chair. He looked peaceful and rather adorable she would admit to herself. Lips pooched out with a chin pushed back into his neck, all snuggled into his beard on his chest. She sat with her elbow on the arm of the chair, chin in her hand and stared, took all of him in without judgement. She barely noticed the scars anymore honestly. She hadn’t known him without them. They seemed to suit him almost. A grumpy bear of a man she mused. The bear's nose twitched and awoke with a grunt.

“Mmph. What time is it?” he mutters.

“You’ve only been out for a little while.” she answers with a sweet voice that calls his attention. He sees her propped up and comfortable, a content smile not hidden on her face as she continued to observe him.

“Ya watchin’ me sleep?” he blurts out without any grace.

“Suppose I was. You look so peaceful.”

“Was dreamin’ ‘bout you.” he admits.

“Really? What about?”

“We were on a balcony. ‘Spose that one outside my room. It was cold and dark.”

“Least it wasn’t a nightmare.” she adds supportively.

“Far from it.” he grumbles, not giving away the other details of the dream of a warmth between them and their affections shown physically.

“Must’ve been nice. You looked happy.”

“Mmph.” he didn't want to give away any more than he already had. “Why didn’t you wake me? Or go to bed yaself?”

“You looked happy. Like I said. Didn’t want to bother you.”

He nods in acknowledgement. “That why ya lookin’ at me like that then?”

“I was just thinking.” she sighs out.

“‘Bout?”

“You.”

“Are you inclined to share your observations?”

“When you sleep you remind me of a bear.” she answers with a smile, her head tilted against the back of the chair.

“Ah.” he thumbs his nose. “A fierce beast indeed.”

“I should clarify I meant a stuffed bear.” she grins.

“What sort of stuffy would look like ‘is eh?” he retorts. Not exactly defensive, but not entirely not either.

“A well loved one.”

The smile she gives him makes him stop adjusting his posture and give her a gaze back. He looks her over for a moment, the wine leaving her relaxed with no sign of embarrassment in her body language.

“You look soft, comfortable. Your head down like your stuffing has been hugged about the neck so many times it’s lost its support. You’re worn and well-loved, threadbare in places. Some seams have split and you’ve lost an eye from your adventures but you’re still the same bear.”

He doesn’t know what to say. He hadn’t heard her speak in such a way before. He knew her for her positive outlook but she sounded so… soft and dare he imagines loving with her poetic observations.

“But we’ve given you a good scrub, cleaned you up. Sewed up the seams and given you a lovely new pearl button for an eye. You’ll be good for years to come.” she practically coos, her head shaking backing and forth in support of her statement.

“You… are drunk.” he states.

“Oh pish posh Alfie, what if I am?” she raspberries her lips.

“Would explain this monologue you’re on about.”

“You are though. Drunk or not I’d mean it. I didn’t mean to offend you. I only meant it as a compliment.”

“Didn’t say I was offended did I? Far from it.”

“Good.” she states and snuggles into the blanket around her shoulders. “Because you should see yourself that way.”

“Might take a bit more than kind words to change me own mind, love.”

“I’ve got them. I’ll keep trying.” she tires.

“Pearl button.” he chuckles.

“It shines in the firelight like an opal. Colors.” she yawns with smacking lips and closed eyes. “Or the moon in a cloudy sky.” she begins to murmur, sleep beginning to find her by force. “Lovely, really.” she barely whispers.

“Oh, darlin’.” he breathes out, watching the little mouse lose her fight with wine and sleep. “You’re too good to a man like me,” he declares before sitting up and moving her way. He doesn't have the heart to disturb her, only closing up the doors and placing the blanket he had over him onto her as well, giving an extra pillow for her to snuggle up to when she inevitable made the descent to laying horizontal. “Sweet little thing,” he murmurs, pushing back her hair from her face. “Don't take more than one eye to see how lovely you are Ruth.” he smiles softly and adjusts the cover around her. “Night, love.” he places a kiss to her head and she gently stirs, a little muffled hum from the touch. That’s what he’d go to bed tonight thinking about, that soft face spilling out honest words about how she truly saw him. He hoped his dream from before would return, he had lots of ideas for how to finish it now. ——

The cold had set in for the season, a crisp wind against the panes as the fire inside roared away. He supposes his compromised body, busy healing him from the shot was too preoccupied and hadn’t managed to keep up with its usual form of defense against the illness that made its way around this time of year. Ruth held herself responsible even though Alfie told her not to be ridiculous. He hadn’t left the house, he shouldn’t have had any way to get sick. She must’ve brought it in from the market she guesses. With her guilt heavy, and even if she wasn’t, her care of him always went above and beyond what was expected.

“We have just broth this time. Don’t want to upset your tummy further.”

“Tummy the medical term?” he still gives a sarcastic response despite his head hanging over the bed and the remnants of breakfast in the bucket below him.

“I’ll call it what I like.” she speaks with confidence as she wipes down his face with a cloth to clear his beard. “You need to stop being so mouthy and relax.”

“All the times I’ve been told that in my life...”

“You’d think you would’ve learned to listen by now.” she gives his cheek a gentle pat as she tucks the blankets in around him. “Take a few sips and wait. Then if you keep it down within the hour we’ll try some tea.

“Ugh.” he groans, his head spinning and for the first time not from the injury. He was just plain sick. Some stomach something that made him hot and cold and sleep like the dead. “I don’t want to eat a 'fing.”

“That means you’re still sick and you need the energy. So do as I say, please.”

She was stern but kind, reminded him of his mum a bit. She never shied away from the gross bits, whisking the tray away as soon as she saw his face turn and she knew he was going to be sick. She cleaned him up and bathed him to sweat out the sickness. He was so exhausted he didn’t have it in him to even tease her about seeing him naked. This told her he was especially sick. So when the hour got late and he was nowhere near where she’d like him to be in recovery, she stoked the fire and changed into her pajamas, setting everything he could possibly need by the bed.

“You’re burning up, love.” she whispered with a hand to his forehead. He only nods in agreement. “I’m going to stay with you tonight. Is that okay?”

“MMph?” a questioning glance shot her way.

“I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“You 'fink I’m gonna die?”

“No, I don’t think you’re going to die.” she chuckles and smoothes back his hair. “But I want to keep an eye on you nonetheless. You poor thing. I know you feel miserable.”

“Aye.” he moans.

“Do you mind me asking something personal?”

“What?” he gruffs out, sat back into the stacked pillows with a frown.

“When you were little... what did your mum do when you were sick?”

“Have me sleep with her. Do that lovely fing you women do with the fingers in the hair.” he grunts at the exhaustion he feels trying to reach his hand up to ruffle his own.

“Then I’ll do that then, yeah?” she suggests.

“Not a baby.”

“Tonight you are.” she smiles, crawling into the bed next to him. She makes herself a little nest and situates. “Would you like laying on my lap? A lot of people prefer it. That or on the chest, heartbeat is soothing, but I’m afraid I don’t want you that close to my face.”

“Don’t blame you.” he groans and moves slowly, to roll onto her legs.

“Curl up a bit, sometimes that helps with the stomach cramps.” she rubs his back, damp from sweat soaked through his pajamas as she lets him nestle up against her. Another sign he was very sick was his lack of defense of the idea. Men did love to be comforted in a maternal way when they were ill. She’d learned that quickly in her years as a nurse. This man wasn’t any different, it seemed. “That’s a good boy, now.” she feels a yawn coming on, fingers carding through the damp strands as she feels him rest his weight on her. “You aren’t accustomed to getting so ill are you?”

“No.” he laments.

“Your system has been through it as of late, hasn’t it? Healing you up so well it forgot to man the gates.” she lets out a soft laugh and his eyes are already shut. “Poor darling.” She whispers with a sweet lilt that gives him a moment of strength to wrap his arm over her legs. “Rest now, love, you’ve earned it. I’ll be here.” She continues to stroke through his hair as a snore quickly rises from his full lips.

He awoke without the usual ache in his body he’d grown accustomed to. Tiredness that was very much there, but the pain was dull and far away. He feels his head move with a soft rise and fall, realizing he was on Ruth’s stomach and he was feeling her breathing. He knew she was asleep by the steady rhythm it kept and it made him want to rejoin her. He felt the weight of her hand on his back and the other with an open book against the bed. By the small amount of light in the sky, he could determine she’d tried to stay awake and failed, but he had succeeded in getting an almost full night's rest for the first time that week. It must’ve been the fever breaking his rational mind thought, but he also concluded that the affection surely didn’t hurt his chances of recuperation either. —-

With frost heavy on the windowpane that night, Ruth kept adding more wood to the fire in the lounge to try to combat the freezing temperatures.

“Gonna have to move back inland to chop me own trees if ya keep feedin' it in such a way.”

“I’m sorry I’m just... freezing.” She whines with a sigh, pulling up her socks and tucking her feet beneath her on the chair that had been designated as hers unofficially over the weeks she’d been living there.

He looks to see her jumper layered over an undershirt, long johns and her big socks pulled up to her knees with her boots still on. “You’ve got more on than I do, ya still cold?”

“I’m always cold.” She mumbles. “Nights are worse.”

“Ya have a proper coat? A wool jumper instead of that knit one?”

“No.” A voice that was small and clearly embarrassed.

“Do I not pay ya enough to buy the things you need?” His tone wasn’t one of judgment which she was relieved by, but she still felt suddenly inadequate under his gaze.

“You do, you’re very gracious I just... I've been saving it.”

“Ah.” He nods, still looking her over. He wanted to ask her for what, but he supposed it wasn’t any of his business. But his curiosity and her silence got the better of him. “May I ask for what?”

“Just... life.” She shrugs. “For a place of my own one day. Being an unmarried woman I need to be able to support myself at any given moment if need be. Things happen. I like to be prepared.” She sheepishly answers.

“Well, that’s smart of ya innit.” He approves. “How about we go out tomorrow and I buy you a new coat? Get ya some good winter protection since you’re such a small thing. Won’t have ya freezin' in my house.”

“That’s very kind of you but it’s not necessary. I’d considered taking up knitting. I could make some things for myself.”

“You need something better quality than you could pull together. Not to be rude, love. It’s a good hobby to have but the weather by the sea demands more.”

“It is so much colder than it is inland. The wind bites to your bones.”

“That it does. So we’ll go. You aren’t spendin' your money on something like... fuckin gamblin' or what not, ya bein smart, so I don’t mind to step in. Consider it a gift for your excellent work.”

“You don’t have to-“

“Hush now Ruth. You don’t reject gifts now do ya. I know you were raised better than that.” He teases.

“Thank you. It’s very generous.” She finally accepts and pulls a duvet over her shoulders.

Her chattering begins to be noticeable to him. His injured side still hearing her sniffling and shifting as the night carried on even if he could not see it. “How have you been makin' it through the night without a fire if you’re already so cold?” He inquires without looking her way.

“I haven’t been really. I’ve had a hot water bottle and a warmed iron in my bed, sleeping in my clothes and that.”

“Unacceptable.” He grumbles. “You should’ve said something, pet.”

“I didn’t want to be a bother.”

“You have never been a bother and you could never be, Ruth. Anything you need you just ask. Promise me.”

“Yes, Alfie” she agrees hesitantly.

“Good girl, now c’mere” he instructs, raising the blanket thrown over his lap. “Use the 'ol sharin' body heat in the meantime.”

“Are you su-“

“Get over here Ruth. Your teeth will grind down to nothing with the chattering they’re doing over there by the window.” He orders with more conviction, another motion of his hand to beckon her closer.

She sighs but begins to move, a nod of agreement, because he was right.

“Won’t have you catchin' a cold when a simple intervention of body heat will help remedy the situation.”

She brings her blanket around her shoulders, dragging behind her on the carpet as she shuffled towards him. Wordlessly she sits next to him as he pats the cushion, direction to sit close.

With only the crackle of the fire, he puts an arm over her shoulders, tucking the blanket now shared as he pulls her legs into his lap.

“Get these feet warmed up, eh?” He mutters, unlacing her boots as she watches him with curious eyes. The delicate movements of his fingers catch her off guard by the attention they demand of the firelight shining off his rings. “Beneath the legs. Toes under here, there ya are.” He mumbles while tucking her feet under his thigh to warm her. “Don’t be shy, we’ve had a cuddle before.” He chuckles as he pays her back. Her little body, in comparison to his, curls up against him. “Lookit is nose, red as a beet yeah? Can’t have that.” He takes her nose and places his palm over it and makes her laugh. “You are freezin' love, my goodness.” He remarks softly, rhetorically. “There now. Better?” He asks with genuine concern as he runs her back over the blanket.

“Yes actually.” She admits quietly. “You’re very warm.”

“Aye. Good it’s going to use then, yeah?” He looks back to the book he’d been reading. She feels a bit limited, being in such a confined space with him. She was on his blind side but that didn’t stop him noticing she was staring. “ You’ve seen me every day, love, what could there possibly be to look at you haven’t seen before?”

She gives him a grin. “I haven’t had to be so close in some time now. You’re still doing very well. Swelling is gone.” Her fingers trace over his scars that run from the line of his beard to his temples. “Healed up nicely. Hardly any displacement. Scars will always be there but a small price for what you’ve been through.”

“Thanks to you.” His way of accepting the compliment.

“I think you had a bit to do with it.” She lets out a soft chuckle. “I think you wear it well. Not just anyone could make this sort of look work for them.”

“Not that I’ve had a choice.”

“You certainly do.”

“How so? Can’t exactly choose what I look like.”

“No, but you have a very strong face, Alfie.”

“That’s a way to say ugly and still be polite.”

She laughs and her forehead pressed into his collar bone for a moment. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’d never say such a thing as it would be a lie.”

“Backtracking now are we?” He turns to show his good eye and an amused but teasing face.

“No!” She laughs and snuggles a bit closer to get his warmth.

“Hush and snuggle up ya little ice lolli.”

“Strong means exactly that. Strong.” She rests her head on his shoulder with his permission. Hair nuzzling against the scars they spoke of. “Masculine, you know. Hard brow, pronounced nose and jaw. And all symmetrical.” She yawns. “ Most can’t say that without getting shot.” She lets out a soft laugh.

“What did you break? You’re being too nice again.”

She lets out another giggle and it makes him smile.

“You know I would’ve come running and crying if I had.”

“True.” He agrees.

“You have an intense air about you. Suits the whole… look. That’s all.”

“Then thank you, Ruth, love.”

“Welcome.” She sighs with a smack of her lips.

She falls quiet, gentle breathing against his chest he doesn’t mind in the least. As much of a surprise to him as anyone else.

“Ya asleep?”

“Mmmph. Warm. Comfy.” She mumbles.

“Then let's go to bed, yeah? At least until we can fix the cold in your room.”

“Together?”

“Yeah, love, I’ll keep ya warm. Let me be of use to ya somehow. For what all you’ve done for me.”

“No use in arguing with you. Won’t win.” She answers with a sly smile that makes him laugh.

“Kind and smart. Gonna have to hold onto you aren’t I?”

His response causes a warm happy hum in her throat that makes him lean in to kiss her head before he wraps her up and takes her in his arms to carry her.

“Don’t strain yourself.” She tells him, waking up and wrapping her arms around his neck instinctually.

“I know me limits.” He grumbles back defensively. “Don’t worry, you just keep warm.” He adds more softly as he carries her down the hall.

With a well-fed fire and a comfortable position found in his bed, Alfie and his little mouse burrow up, her without her usual wall of hesitation as she hungrily pulls herself towards him, so relieved at the promise of a night not freezing alone.

As she had done before, watching over and being of service to him, he returns the favor night after night. Watching over her and the total abandon on her face as she slept. She looked so innocent in his arms, dark hair and lashes that lay stark against her skin. Besides their buzzed conversations, these nights were a close second in his favorite way to spend his time. He felt useful to her. Like he could entertain he could ever repay her for the help she’d given him. Laying with the strong but fragile-looking woman in his arms gave him something carnal he missed. He felt like a man for the first time in a long while. He hadn’t known if he’d ever feel such a way after being shot. He thought women may run in fear of him, left to pay for any kindness or intimacy with them. But one had appeared that made his chest warm, his belly full and his mind occupied. She’d been a comfort from the beginning, but he was suspecting he was becoming one for her as well.

--------

Alfie hadn’t had very many visitors since coming home and it’d been months. Very few people seemed to know he was even alive from what Ruth gathered. The only people that visited him seemed to be Jewish businessmen she’d never seen before. Most were Orthodox and very polite but they spoke suspiciously quietly while they met with Alfie.

She greeted them all enthusiastically making tea or bringing biscuits as Alfie suggested and this time was no different. She’d even put on her maid uniform even though she was more than a bit cold in it. But unlike times before, they spoke louder, as did Alfie, sounding a bit distressed. She was doing her work, scrubbing at the entryway where they had tracked in mud from their trip to the market.

She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, it just happened she was in proximity with her work. She hadn’t meant to listen and hear things she shouldn’t have, but she did. Now she knew who Alfie Solomons was, and him being shot now made sense.

That evening Alfie, as is in his way, already knows she’s heard him. He could tell from the moment she took away the tray from tea. The lack of eye contact, the almost sad but cautious expression. None of it was lost on him.

After supper, he knows there’s a conversation that needs to be had. He knew no better way to approach it than head-on.

“I know you heard what me 'n those men were talkin' 'bout today.” She says nothing and keeps knitting. “I’m not angry, you can look at me, Ruth.”

“It wasn’t intentional.”

“I didn’t assume as much but thank you for clarifying.” He answers calmly.

“I was working on the floor. The mess from going to the market and the wet and that.”

“Mmm.” He nods. He says nothing having learned it is better to let people talk themselves instead of probing in most cases.

“I’m not… in trouble am I?” She asks with big eyes.

“Not if you can keep a secret.”

“I’ve not told anyone that you’re here either.” she adds quickly.

“Good. Then no problem, yeah?”

She gives a sharp nod.

“But I would like to know. For my own selfish reasons, what you think now. Because you aren’t lookin' at me the same.

“It was a shock at first. But upon reflection it made sense. The big house, money, the guns” she recognizes. “You’re very well-spoken and read. Clearly a man of intelligence. You can be very intimidating at times and it seems natural. I thought perhaps it was just your turn but it seems it’s learned for… work purposes.”

“You’re very observant, Ruth. Very clever.”

“Thank you.”

“All those things are true. I won’t deny them to you because you deserve the truth. But I am retired now. I don’t do that sort of work now. I put in my time and it’s given me the means to have this sort of life. Now I can sit back and use the reputation, yeah, the power that comes with such a name and life lived.”

She nods bashfully again.

“Will this be a problem?” He questions after a moment of silence between them.

“Am I… I’m not in danger am I?” She asks with the same honest eyes as earlier.

“Oh pet.” He sighs out, reaching out and taking her down turned chin into his hand. “ I would never put you in danger. Do you understand? You’re far too important.”

“Okay.” A soft solution that cues him to move his hand to hold hers.

“Do you think less of me now?” An upfront inquiry she hadn't expected.

She takes a moment to consider her answer. She didn’t feel threatened or scared of him. He admires her ability to slow down and consider her words before speaking. It was a skill many lacked. “No.” She shakes her head. “You have been nothing but kind to me. Grumpy sure but that’s a personality trait and not the core of a persons being. You’ve been generous and thoughtful. As I see it you’ve done no wrong to me, and that is all I can base my judgments on. Who youwere before doesn’t seem to be who you are now. I believe people can change. You’re a good man to me. One of the best I’ve known and I suppose it makes no difference how you made your life.”

“That is a relief. And so thoughtfully spoken.” He gives her hand a squeeze.

“I know some think me naive. As my kind nature can be mistaken."

“You are not naive. You’re very smart. Have a lovely, clever wit about you. You’re a good woman. You have a good heart. I admire that about you.” He lets go of her hand and sits to look at her, meeting her eyes intensely. “What I want to know now, is do you want to continue to live here with me? Now that you know?”

She doesn’t consider it as long as he expected which makes him let out a relieved sigh. “I do. I trust you. And trust your word. I feel safe here... with you. Safer now still than I did living alone.”

“It does make me happy to hear such news.”

“But Alfie…” She begins. “You know, and I only bring it up because you did first. But you are aware you no longer... need me, right? Save the housework I haven’t had to be your nurse in a few weeks now. I’m no longer needed for the purpose I was hired for.”

“You are not needed for that purpose, no.” He shakes his head. “But you do not wish to go?”

“I do like it here. And you. But, I hate to put my foot in my mouth to ruin a good thing but I’m still being paid for things I’m no longer doing.”

“Mmph. That would seem to be the case yeah.” He nods, looking into the fire. “Perhaps I hadn’t brought it up because I don’t want you to leave.”

“You don’t?”

“No. I don’t.” He shakes his head. “I like you, Ruth. And I can count on one hand the people I’ve liked in my life. I’d choose you to stay here. With me. I wouldn't charge you rent. And I do like how you keep a house. And cook. And… many other things about you.” He pauses. “But I would like to know. Do you like me? Would you want to stay?”

“Am I… reading too much into this being a loaded question?”

“I’m not proposing anything indecent. Not asking anything of you. I genuinely enjoy you. You as a person. And I don’t want you to leave. Your company would be missed. Greatly.”

“You want me to live with you? Not as an employee? Am I… understanding you?”

“Yes.”

“If not as an employee then...as what?”

“You’re a good woman Ruth and I don’t want to insinuate or offend. I do enjoy our friendship. But I believe there is the possibility of more there. And I would be willing to help you out, as we could help each other out, by living together and giving that a chance. No professional lines crossed, and if you find you do not want to stay I would never keep you against your will. But I believe you might feel the same way. If I am so bold to suggest.”

“You are bold.” He can’t get a solid read on her expression as it holds many things. “But you are… also correct.”

“Would you like to take a chance then, Ruth love?” He takes her hand again. “I know a man like me has no business asking this of a woman like you. One as lovely and smart with so much to offer but if I didn’t I know I’d spend the rest of my life alone and regretting it.”

“A man like you has every right to ask such a thing of me.” She lets out a soft huff of a laugh to being flattered.

“Nothing has to change. Business as usual and no funny business on my behalf. I can behave. Despite rumors.”

She gives him a smile. One that reassured him of her answer. “I would like that. We remove the confines of professionalism. No taboos just, two very good friends… exploring the possibility of more. Organically.”

“You put it in such an easily understood way, dear.”

“I can agree to that.” She nods with a nod of confidence.

“Then it’s settled.”

“So it is.” She beams back. A moment of silence hangs between them. “How about a cuppa before bed? Special brew to celebrate?”

“Always full of good ideas, you are. I’d love that.”

——————-

That night when it's time to go to bed Ruth has regained that same nervous smile she had in the beginning.

“It feels a bit different now, yeah?” She states with a nervous laugh.

“A bit. But it won’t be. Everything moves at your own pace, love. Do you still want to sleep in here?”

“Oh, yes” she very quickly answers much to his relief. “I can admit now it’s far too pleasant sleeping with you to go back to that freezing room. I mean, sharing a bed with you… you know what I mean. Why am I being so particular?” She laughs at herself.

“S’all right.” He speaks comfortingly and as always lifts his arm to accomodate her against him. “You’re rather endearing when you’re nervous.”

“Lucky me.” She snickers. “ I would like... some minor adjustments?” She asks sitting up to meet his face on her elbow.

“Anything you want, darlin'.”

“Just… here.” She scoots closer to move her feet under lhis eg, taking his hand that lay next to him on the bed and resting it on his chest. “And one more thing.” She asks with batting lashes, “Nothing indecent about a goodnight kiss to the cheek right?” She asks before planting one on the scarred side of his face.

“Nothin' a ‘tall. Spoilin’ a man.”

“This is a good start.” She coos with tired eyes, already putting her head to his chest to listen to his breathing and heart. She takes his hand into hers and laces their fingers together. “Goodnight Alfie.” She sighs out. A content and pleased sound.

“That it is, Ruth. That it is.” He closes the night with a kiss to her hair. A new nightly ritual begins.

————-

Their courtship began and despite the fluttering in her stomach she was distinctly aware of now, it didn’t feel like much had changed. There was a certain closeness, an intimacy and tenderness that hadn’t been so blatant before. There were kisses to cheeks as they cooked, holding hands as they sat side by side on the chair in front of the fire at night. Quick strolls around the estate, hand in hand to knock the dust off Alfie's shoes as he put it. He’d started venturing out more as well. Returning home with trinkets and sweets to gift Ruth to show his fondness. She’d never had a man give her gifts, and even the simplest purchase of something she’d needed such as socks or soap, made her blush and feel pampered. They were moving closer to something increasingly serious between one another each day, and they were both waiting for the other to cut the tension.

Their Shabbat is spent together as always, days spent cooking and nights spent leisurely enjoying each other’s company after blessings in the confinement of their home. Ruth had an air of ease about her now that she was being courted and the barrier of being in Alfie's employ was gone. This led to her being over indulgent in wine for the Friday evening, but Alfie didn’t particularly mind.

She went to bed when he had, a late night with a bright moon and stars. She woke up shortly after a brief rest, feeling hot in his embrace. She peels herself from the bed, feet hitting the cold floor and her still buzzed state becoming acutely aware to her. She shuts the door, Alfie grumbling as she left after a kiss to his cheek and a whisper of “I'll be back darling, sleep”.

She made her way with the fog of rest and wine in her eyes as she lit a candle in the hallway. She took a sweet from the glass dome they were housed in and proceeded to stand in front of the glass double doors that outlook the beach. The ocean was still awake, a sparkling blue and gray as it lapped at the sand. There wasn’t a soul out to feel the salt air except for Ruth. Her face was flushed, the breeze welcome and fluttering her dressing gown to ease the side effect of the wine. After many content sighs, lazy blinks that turned the glimmer of moonlight on the water into small seemingly touchable stars she retreats to the confines of the dark and quiet house. She turns on the record player, something she enjoyed when she was drunk, and on occasion when she wasn’t and Alfie wasn’t home. With one door open, a tinkling of the chandelier above her as she spun and sashayed about the room with the bell sleeves of her gown adding a decorative flair to her lonely waltz.

Alfie had slept through plenty of things Ruth had done in the house, including playing music. But perhaps the lack of another body in the bed for too long made him restless, his mind refusing to tune it out.

Ruth was swaying with eyes closed and a content smile as she moved around the dark collection of Alfie's things. Light filtered through the gems on the chandelier and gave the room a smattering of bright spots that moved with the breeze and her raised arms as she felt the music move about her.

She was none the wiser to Alfie standing in the archway watching her. He moved as quiet as a mouse down the hall, suspecting no foul play at the music in the night. He smiled at the swirling woman, being happily surprised by what he found waiting for him. He had grown to enjoy having music on during waking hours, a pleasant distraction and a chosen aesthetic to the day to set whichever mood he fancied. But it seemed Ruth was the one setting the tone that filled the room tonight.

In her light-colored gown, a blue gray in the moonlight, she moved in and out of the beam coming from the open door. Her hair was down and free, waves moving with the fabrics with her small hands orchestrating along. She takes a swift spin to follow the string section, opening her eyes as she stumbles slightly. A happy laugh escapes her before she notices Alfie watching. A small gasp leaves shortly after with wide eyes that admitted guilt to being caught.

“Did the music wake you? I’m so sorry Alfie, my love, I thought I had it low enough that it wouldn’t.” She rushes over apologetically to the machine but a gentle and assertive hand stops her before she can hurriedly remove the needle and most likely scratch the record in the process.

“It did but no apologies needed, love. Your absence was what caused me to venture out more than the noise.” He explains.

“I woke up in a heat and needed some air.” She elaborates.

“That what happens when you drink too much.” He chuckles before giving her chin an affectionate pinch.

“You’re right. As always.” She gives a bashful smile as she tucks her hair behind her ear. “Shall I shut this off and return to bed?” She asks with eager eyes and he finds himself sighing at the sight.

“No, no, love. Best not waste this lovely little scene you’ve set, eh?” He suggests as he straightens his posture and moves away from the wall. The candle in the hall was losing its fight against the darkness around it. It made no progress past the corridor and with a lack of fire in the room it was a peaceful display bathed in moonlight.

She looks at him curiously, not sure of the meaning of his words.

“Do you like to dance, Ruth?” He asks with an outstretched hand it takes her a moment to register its purpose.

“Oh yes. I do.” She nods.

“Would you like to now? With me?”

“I’d love that.” She smiles and takes his offered hand, small feet light as they were pulled along into the open space of the room among the rug and parted chairs.

“You’d never mentioned you liked it.” He observes.

“I’ve only done it alone before.”

“Ah. A shy one.” He grins and pulls her to his chest.

“Historically yes.” She laughs and happily takes her place against him. “You know better than anyone I am mostly hesitant to express myself and my wants.”

“Aye.” He nods, chin against her hair as a simple back and forth between them falls in naturally. A slow movement of feet, a swaying of shoulders as they leisurely made their way around the room. “But there is no need to be with me, pet. You’ll never get what you want if you don’t ask.”

“So wise.” She praises softly. “And so handsome. Really not fair.” She begins to giggle and hides her face in his chest.

“You’re still drunk.” He laughs and kisses her head.

“Only a touch. Enough to follow your advice. The wine helps you see. Helps me talk.”

“It can do that, yes.” He watches her face flushed and happy, lift to look at his.

“Sometimes I feel there’s so much in my head I want to say that I can’t choose where to even begin. So I don’t. But I want to.”

“Like what?” He inquires, giving her a chance to share her thoughts.

“Things… about you… and myself.”

“I have to admit I’m more than curious about your thoughts on the subject.” He teases and makes her smile with a dip of his head her way.

“I don’t even mind your teasing when I get to see you smile like that.” She catches him off guard with her softness as she always does. “You don’t smile often, so it’s like a little treat when you do. And when it’s directed at me…” she lets out a happy hum with a smile that warmed him against the wind whipping against his skin from the outside. “It just… makes a woman melt.” She admits with a soft laugh.

“Then I must admit yours makes me feel the same, love.” He kisses her forehead.

“You make me feel so… warm.” She sighs. “Like a constant hug. Or a big meal. It… feels so good.” She brings a hand up from his chest to rest it against his cheek. “I’ve never…” She stops and her eyes narrow just slightly in thought. “I’ve grown so fond of you, Alfie.” She finally verbalizes.

“And I you.” He keeps his voice soft as to not distract her.

“And you’re so… much. Smart and funny and lovely and so very good to me. And despite your insistence to the contrary, I do find you terribly handsome.”

“This what you’ve wanted to say to me love?” He nuzzles his nose against her head with an almost patronizing smile. As is his way. “Because it seems you’re only speaking my mind, as I feel about you. You kind and beautiful little woman. Clever and hard working. And bless you, finding me easy to look at.” He presses a long kiss to her cheek that makes her stomach flip and a smile that carries across her entire face bloom.

“I do. Because you are. And for that and so many reasons I really do very much care for you. Beyond friendship. Beyond platonic now.”

“Will you stay with me then darlin'? Ease my worries for losin' a treasure like you?”

“Of course. I don’t want to lose you either.” Is her honest and heartfelt response.

“So if I did what I truly wanted… and kissed you you wouldn’t be offended and run?”

“A man like you asking permission lets me know I am in fact exactly where I’m supposed to be. With you. So carry on with what we both want.” Her lips are still smiling as they finally close the space between them.

He was gentle with her. His hand moving from hers and to her head. It was short and chaste, as he didn’t want to offend her with more. She was by nature delicate and easily overwhelmed at times. The kiss’s purpose wasn’t to convince her for more but seal their courtship as official.

Small affectionate pecks follow. As they stand in the chilled room with nothing other than a warm feeling between them.

“I do believe it’s you and not the wine making me dizzy at this point.” She admits with a giggle against his lips.

“Then how about we get you to bed? There are always more kisses to be had whenever you want them. I’d never rush you, my love.”

“I do believe you’re right. I’m feeling a bit tired. And the promise of cozying up to you is more alluring than the breeze and music at this point in the night.”

“Then let’s do just that.”

—————————

Alfie had been put down for a nap as Ruth likes to affectionately tease him. He still suffered from the odd headache from time to time from the injury but a simple low dose of medicine and rest could always take the edge off he needed to function. If that didn’t solve it then Ruth’s humming and oiled fingers massaging his face and scalp could do the trick.

With a sweet kiss and words to leave him to drift into sleep, Ruth takes the time alone to see to the things she had on her to-do list.

Alfie wakes, just slightly groggy and becoming quickly aware of the silence in the house. There was usually some noise with Ruth around, the clinking of dishes or music floating about but his shuffling feet carrying him into the hall led to nothing. Perhaps she’d gone to town, she did say she needed some things for tea. With a shrug he helps himself to water and makes his way back with more open eyes than before. This time he sees the residing place of Ruth, and it was a bit of a shock on the old man.

Ruth had always taken her baths while Alfie napped. With medicine assuring he’d be down for a while she always left the door cracked to hear him call for her if needed. This time was no different.

Alfie heard the plinking of water first, his feet stopping in their tracks as the reflection in the mirror leaves him with a slack jaw after taking in the view. Ruth was exiting the bath, a reflection of soft curves bare to him for the first time. A lump in his throat grows, her toweling off and then turning with falling tendrils of hair wet and springing against the nape of her neck. Ruth was a modest woman, in her beliefs and her dress. Seeing her, and unexpectedly made Alfie behave like any man would, which surprised him. He didn’t consider himself just any man, and here he was with a storky, frozen like a teen seeing a naked woman for the first time. Admittedly it had been some time since he’d been with one. His life before didn’t really lean to him having any romance. He was busy, he was dangerous and he couldn’t risk any distractions. But he was no longer that man. A softness that had grown from wear and Ruth’s influence made him stop and take note of what was being blessed to him with his good eye.

As he sees her weighted breasts and soft stomach and hips disappear behind a towel he comes out of his trance and rubs his face, grunting as he makes his way back to his bed.

Ruth, none the wiser comes and kisses him goodbye. The grumpy and pursed-lip bear that was still in recline. She said she would only be gone a short while, as she needed plenty of time to prep dinner. She had said it many times and come home at almost dusk, so he hadn’t expected today to be any different.

Except she had. She’d wanted to celebrate their future together and attempt the bread he usually makes. Bread took time as he was certain to teach her and she wasn’t about to risk under proving it. Most of the time when she’d medicated him, Alfie would sleep through the afternoon. She would usually go in and check on him, a quick kiss before leaving to prepare for the evening. This was her plan as she moved light-footed down the hallway, but a new sound makes her stop and her eyes search for the source before she reaches his door. Now Ruth wouldn’t call herself nosey as much as cautiously curious, and at first, the sound worried her, heavy breathing, groaning, perhaps her poor darling was having a nightmare. But before she could turn the knob of the door she hears her name. And not called in any sort of way she’d heard before. It was needful, but not in a way that demanded her aid. This breathy call was asking for something different.

She gulps and a flush rises to her cheeks. With a flutter of lash she feels as if she’s been naughty and will be caught in the act of misbehavior. The longer she stays and listens, the less she becomes worried and the more… intrigued she becomes.

Alfie was no stranger to swearing, even in the company of Ruth who hadn’t ever minded as it’s never been directed maliciously at her. But she could hear the push of his stomach muscles, the strain in his neck as he said her name, soft words of encouragement for what she was sure were scandalous acts happening behind his lids in his mind. “Take it, pet.” he moans through gritted teeth, her hand moving to her chest to steady herself. “Fuck me, that’s it, love.” She knew what was happening behind the door, as he was only a man, it didn’t surprise her exactly but what did was her reaction to it. A heat in her face that sent a tingle down her spine that landed right between her legs. Her mind hurriedly imagined what he looked like, legs splayed and hand slowly gripping himself, those soft lips panting and begging things of her. She felt oddly powerful and the way her body reacted so quickly, so thoroughly was the real surprise to her. He wanted her, and in the biblical sense. It was a natural progression of their relationship, and one she had admittedly been considering more as of recent with the late-night snogs and roaming hands. It was a relief for her, she realized. Knowing he wanted her, and badly. It was a thought that followed her around all afternoon and into the evening. All the way to her bed.

With a pause in the cooking, now only waiting for timers to alarm, Ruth in her state of distraction excuses herself. Saying she was going to freshen up before the meal as she’d been out. Alfie doesn’t think much of it, a normal thing for a woman to do.

He waits and decides to peruse in his office, a room beside Ruth’s old bedroom. He was looking for a particular contract he’d been working on, the beginnings of a Ketubah. The sounds that tickle his ears are not as holy as the intention the document represents but they are indeed heavenly.

Ruth, hiding away in her bedroom under the guise of being in the bathroom is tucked away letting her body lead the way her hands move against herself. She’d been distracted and wet all afternoon. Every touch of Alfie's hands to her skin had ran red hot through her. She couldn’t hear a breathy chuckle and not think of her name leaving his wet mouth in much the same sound. She had to give in to what her body was calling out for, but she wasn’t exactly quite ready to reach the final step with Alfie.

In her throws she doesn’t notice the opening of the door through the wall that his study shared with her bedroom, her back resting against it as she sat on her bed with her face in tense concentration. Waves move her body and her voice, growing moans as her fingers circle and stroke. She imagined Alfie and his full lips on her breast as her fingers teased it through her dress. She imagined those firm thighs against hers and he moved in rhythm above her. A breathy and light call of his name escapes her as, in her mind, his lips find her neck.

On the other side of the wall, Alfie was feeling tortured. What a little minx she was. Seeing her naked and now hearing her touching herself proved too much on the man. His blood surged forward like a much younger man, even after sinfully meeting his needs earlier in the day, his cock was gaining more and more attention as her sounds continued.

He pressed his ear to the wall, a hand rubbing himself over his trousers and another in a fist. “Fuck, love.” He sighs out, hearing her whimper out his name.

She continues with her melodic moans until his body aches and can no longer be ignored. As hard a diamond he strokes himself, hearing her just on the other side of the wall, almost feeling her panting breaths.

“Oh my… Alfie yes, please.” She whines and tenses her thighs.

In his mind he gives over, his hand firm and fast and already nearing an end at the rather unorthodox means he was hearing a woman get off. She was a tease and didn’t know it. Trying to contain herself and be decent, take care of herself in private. But it made it even more delicious for him. He knew now she wanted him, and it gave him control. He knew he’d have her now. A proper woman like her didn’t want to fuck just anyone. She wanted to fuck someone she loved and the revelation of it all, between the two of them as they crested with moans and open mouths, was as intense as their orgasms. It was only a matter of time now that the known could remain a secret.

———————

Another Shabbat, another day spent close together. There was food and drink and sweets, an intimate dinner by candlelight that left them both feeling closer than ever.

Their evening is spent snuggled up on the couch. Ruth sat in his lap and read to him as his head rested against her chest, her fingers rubbing through his hair. He loved the sound of her voice. He also loved the feel of it. Something he hadn’t noticed before. The way her chest rose and fell and vibrated his head as she comforted him. She reads poetry he’d heard so many times before, making them both feel sentimental and appreciative of the other. Especially when they were nestled so closely in each other’s arms.

“I’ve never enjoyed anything with another person as much as I love simply being here and reading with you.” She reflects as she kisses his fussed hair.

“And your company is unrivaled.” He gives a smile and a kiss to her chest in agreement.

“You’re my favorite person you know.” She whispers and nuzzles her nose against him.

“And you mine. No one else has ever made me see the world as you have. A spotlight of optimism, a softness that endured against my most hard and stubborn parts. You’ve made me better. More human and somehow more powerful for it. Parts of me long lost were touched by you, love. I do hope you know how special you are to me.”

“I do when you work your silver tongue like that.” She kisses the end of his nose before dipping down to share a lingering slow kiss. His hands were gentle against her, warm as they ran up and down over the blankets. As was her way she pecked away, keeping a certain distance to not lose herself in him with a hand braces to his cheek in his beard lightly.

“It’s only natural to speak of a woman like you in such a way.”

“Charmer.” Her giggles turn into happy sighs against him. “I would never wish for anything bad to happen to you, but being here because of something bad that happened I can’t help but be selfishly grateful for such a thing. I wouldn’t have come to know you this way without it. And I don’t want to be without knowing you now.”

“Having you here now gave it purpose. In a different life, before all this, I couldn’t have been with you. Not with the life I led, the man I was. Not a peaceful sort of existence like we have now. Together.”

“A good reminder of fate knowing better than we do.” She huffs out a laugh as her fingers move over his textured face. “Knowing what we both needed… how to get us there.”

“Don’t sell yourself and your own actions short, love. I wouldn’t be in such a good state without you. Without your mind, body and soul to help heal me.”

“Take your own words and don’t give me all the credit, Alfie. You’ve fought to be here. And I’m thankful for such a stubborn man.” She kisses his forehead and holds him close for a moment. “I have been thinking...”

“Yeah, love?” He takes her hand, seeing the bashful nature return. Making her look at him as she spoke.

“These last weeks, months have been so lovely. With us being together as we are now.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

“It’s made me consider a lot of things I hadn’t before. Living with you like this, feeling how I do about you. I want to stay here. With you. Like this. It’s too pleasant a life to pass up. And I… over these past weeks I’ve… Alfie, I do believe that I have fallen in love with you.” She manages to say with a sweet conviction.

She sees softness in his eyes take over. A dark hooded peek into his soul and a light cloudy one move over her face and take her cheek. “I am certain that I love you my little Ruth. And it pleases me beyond those silver-tongued words you admire to hear that you feel the same.”

“Alfie I do love you. It’s a fearsome thing to feel such a way. But it is such lovely torture to be blessed to have.”

“That it is.” He nods and the shine of tears in her eyes touches him, making his chest ache.

She leans in to kiss him, and one without the hesitation of them all before. A full connection, a sharing of breath and hands that held tight to him to match. After rounds of soft lips and teases of tongue she parts to breathe, feeling light-headed. Her closed eyes, forehead pressed to his face give away the emotions building inside her.

“Tell me Ruth my love, would you like to stay forever with me?”

“With you, Yes, always.” She exhales happily.

“Forever can start tonight if you want it love.”

“Yes. We’ve both waited so long already haven’t we?”

“That we have. A lifetime it seems.”

“Then… let us start our new life together, tonight.” Her fingers trace his skin along the inside of his collar. A clear indication of the meaning of her words.

“Is this what you want? Whatever it is I’ll give it to you Ruth. My world is yours now.”

“Yes. I want you. Every bit of you.” She whispers with her nose to his. “Make me yours in every way tonight.”

“You’re asking a lot of an old man there, love.” He smiles and makes her laugh into his cheek.

“Oh, Alfie.” She laughs and sighs, kissing his cheek. “I’ll take whatever you can give me you silly man.”

“That’s my girl.” He grins and kisses her cheek. “That laugh would keep me warm in the dead of winter I believe.” His voice soothing and deep as his nose grazed her jaw.

“You’ve already won me, seduced me. Let me do the same. I can show with actions more than tell with words. Let me tell you how much I love you in my own way.”

“Then no more words, only show.” He promises with a seal of a kiss that presses hard against her, beginning their melting into each other for the night. Tight hands around heads and backs give way to more need than their position allows.

A trail of clothes down the hall, a musical staff’s worth of varying laughs and sighs and moans follow them into the bedroom leaving them bare against the other. The journey to this destination might’ve been slow, but their hands and mouth give away the need they feel with the speed in which they move.

He knew he wasn’t a young man anymore, but she was neither a young woman. He made love to her the best way he knew how, first with his words, now with his body. Arching her back in the soft nest of bed they shared he kisses every point of her he’d dreamed of. Ears and neck to chest and hips. Her whimpering for him the entire way.

She needs him close. Her hands pulling him back up to her as she holds his face, a gasping kiss as she feels the heat of him presses against her stomach, her own hips giving away at how much she wanted to be one with him.

With soft lips attached to her neck, her own panting, he stroked her to a mewling mess. With small hands tense on his back, she begged for him, and he was happy to oblige. With her own wetness, he spreads it along himself between her hot and sensitive lips and over her clit to male her jump with every touch. She held her legs apart, welcoming him in eagerly.

With a tense push and a loud moan, they finally feel the chemistry between them realized. He swears into her shoulder, a hard brow concentrating as he felt her pulse around him, hips already asking more of him.

She moans out for him and God and in those moments moving inside her he felt they were one in the same. If he’d thought himself more than a man before, making this woman who was made of everything entirely good curse as she peaked only solidified the fact. As she shook he held her close, hips grinding together in a friction-filled union that took them both where they’d longed to go together. She was overwhelmed by the fill, the pressure, stretch and push of him. He was overcome by the squeeze, the pulse and the raw need he felt from the heavenly sounds escaping her mouth. They were only for him, and they’d only ever be for him again.

Not a care was given to the aftermath, the wet and mess that comes with lovemaking. They stayed together in it, lips connected and hearts in the same rhythm as they beat together chest to chest. Brief sweet praise, and exchanging of vows to belong to one another before the intensity caught up with them. The slowing of breathing and pulses died down to a whisper, the only heavy breathing that of sighs in their sleep as they held one another through the night. Each other was all that was needed in that big house by the sea. A place Alfie had called a slice of heaven in its picturesque existence.

Alfie had been given a second chance and he knew this. He knew this piece of heaven he’d carved for himself wouldn’t last forever. The day would come when he had to return to the world of mortal men and face his consequences, take a stand. However it played out as history saw fit. But for now, he would relish in this heaven he’d built with this woman. For he had convinced himself long ago he would go to hell. But the future would never again keep him from enjoying the present. His life was in the now, with her, and he planned on living this way as long as he could; in his own earthly heaven he’d built with Ruth, the most angelic woman he’d ever know.

Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

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supernaturallyobsessedchic · 4 years ago

Text

7 Days to Die - Part 4

Threats

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: gun fights, mild angst, injuries, SPN level blood and gore, scary situation, cliffhanger ending

Summary: All seems like a normal day in the woods, but when two camps fight for whatever reason, leaving Jensen and the reader in the crossfire. It becomes a fight against the unseen enemy.

a/n: if you’ve ever played the last of us, you’ll know what is gonna come next…no, the cannibal part was the last one…I got twists up my sleeve. ENJOY! :)

Word Count: 1,494

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She woke up to Jensen holding her close, she noticed she feels safe and well rested.

“You were crying out in your sleep.” He says. She stiffens, she didn’t realize he was up already. But relaxes right away.

“I didn’t wake you or anything?” she asks.

“No, I got in the house and heard you yelling my name.” he says.

“It’s just…” she says, trailing off. Before casting her eyes away from his, letting tears escape.

He felt her shudder, letting sobs silently escape.

“Hey, it’s okay sweetie.” He says. He brought up a hand, brushing some hair behind her ear, getting it out of her face. Cupping her cheek when he brought his hand down.

“I never stuck around a group before. Or been in the company of other people. Either they use me for sex, or to get them supplies like cheap labor. Or, they die off, like I’m some kind of bad luck or curse.” She cries. “It’s like I’m getting these poor people killed.” She sobs.

Wheels in his head began to work in her direction. “Wait, do you blame yourself for Jared?” he asked.

When she didn’t answer, his heart sank.

“Sweetheart, that wasn’t your fault. Shit happens, you just have bad luck. You’re not the bad luck. Just, call it bad timing.” He says, as he holds her close in a tighter embrace. She sobbed, crying hard in his arms. Part of her believed him, but the demons in her head kept trying to convince her otherwise.

He plants a gentle kiss to her forehead. “It’s okay sweetheart. I don’t blame you for anything, I bet Jared wouldn’t either.” He says.

She pulls away to look at him, to see if he’s lying to her. But she sees a soft and gentle look from Jensen that tells her he’s telling her the truth.

“Have a few extra minutes to yourself, I’m gonna get us something to eat.” He says, getting out of bed, working her out of his arms doing so.

She turns onto her back, wiping her tears from her face taking a deep breath, relaxing.

After a quick breakfast of apples picked from nearby trees, they hit the road.

“What were the kids odds with the fever and all?” she asked after some hours on the silent walk.

“Misha said with JJ, she has a shot. The twins it might be hard to tell since their immune systems are still developing. But with Danneel, it was attacking her hard-core. Said it threw her immune system into overdrive, she might not have a chance.” Jensen said.

“Well, we just need to hurry with these meds. She might have a shot.” Y/N said.

“How can you remain so cheery, and positive?” he asks.

“I don’t know. But it’s how I am. I always smile, because I have to. It keeps me somewhat sane. Keeps me from ending it all.” She says.

“Like hell I would let you kill yourself.” Jensen says. “It just amazes me in all this, death and despair, you’re still happy and all smiles. Well, maybe not always happy.” He says.

“I amaze myself sometimes.” She says.

A loud boom interrupts their conversation.

“That sounded close.” She says.

“Yes it did.” Jensen says.

It all happened so fast. A shot rang out, and Jensen was on the ground clutching his side, just near his hip. Y/N ducks down, low to the ground. But once they were out of sight, the shots kept going but not towards them.

“We’re near camps.” Jensen says gasping. He held on to his injury for dear life to stop the bleeding.

“A war?” she asked.

“More than likely,” Jensen says. “We gotta get out of here.” He adds, squeezing his eyes shut from the pain.

“You’ve been hit.” She says. Crawling over to him. She assesses his injury. “God you’re just gushing,” she says, shimmying out of Jensen’s flannel he lent her. She moves his hands briefly to place the flannel over the wound to help with stopping the bleeding.

When she tried to look around, after she got Jensen set with slowing the bleeding, the shooting began to come back to her. She gets down low.

“We’re surrounded.” She cries.

“We’re gonna die if we can’t get out of here.” He says, voice rough from him fighting the pain.

“We might have to back track, wait them out.” She says.

“However long that may be.” Jensen says.

“Jay, you’re bleeding out, if we try to get around them, you’re injury will get worse, with ducking and dodging bullets. Yes, we lengthen our time out here if we head back to the cabin, but we need to get you out of the open, and patch you up.” she says.

“You’re right, god I know your right I just want to get back home.” he says.

“I know, I want to at least make a home for myself, and we’ll get there. But first, we have to actually get there first. Alive.” She says.

He nods. She can see him growing tired.

Shit, he’s still losing so much blood. She thought.

“How much do you think you can move?” she asked.

“I’ll make do, let’s head back and wait them out.” He says. As he rolls to his stomach and prepares to army crawl out of the crossfire.

Once they were clear, crawling for what seemed like several feet to nearly a mile. She helped Jensen to his feet, and they hurried to the nearest cabin.

Y/N checked to see if it was occupied, silence confirmed they were alone.

Jensen plopped down on the couch, the color leaving his face quick.

She searched each and every pack Jensen had on him, finding a kit for stitching and removing unwanted items.

“Okay, this is happening.” She says. “I didn’t see an exit wound, so the bullet is still in you. We need to get it out, despite it holding the bleeding, kind of.” She says.

“I know the drill, trust me. I’ve been through worst, Jared’s removed bullets from me before.” He says.

“Don’t…don’t tell me the stories yet…” she says, getting worked up. “Now, take this.” She says, handing him a strip of leather. He puts it in his mouth, biting down on it.

She takes a flashlight, putting it in her mouth aiming it at his wound. She heads in with the surgical plyers. He jerks, grunting, even holding back a yell.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She tells him, holding back tears.

As she enters deeper, she doesn’t feel anything.

He turns his head, working through the pain as he continues to writhe in pain.

“Jay, I don’t feel anything.” She says.

He spits out the leather. “Keep looking, get it out of me.” He shouts. She nods. Grabbing the leather, putting it back in his mouth for him. He bites down on it hard. Letting out a yell of pain.

She kept going till she felt something hard. She clamps down on it, and begins to slowly pull it out.

“I think I got it.” she says. Pulling out of his wound, revealing a bullet. “Got it.” she says with a sigh, panting a bit. Getting worked up and anxious.

He spits out he leather once again. “Fantastic.” He pants.

“Okay, from the looks of it, no artery was severed, so I’m gonna stitch you up really quick.” She says.

Grabbing the kit, some thread she begins to patch him up like she did before.

Jensen was out of it the whole time. In and out of consciousness as she stitched him up.

Once done she coaxed him awake. He weakly opened his eyes.

“We need to get you to a bed to heal, the couch is no place for it.” she says.

Not arguing it, he nods and gets up. Only to wince, and jerk back down on the couch. Clutching his side.

“I’ll help, try to keep your torso straight.” She advised. Taking his hand, she helps pull him up to his feet. Letting him lean against her as she helped him to a bed, just down a short hall from the living room.

She takes off his shirt, pants and boots. Leaving him in boxers and socks. She put a large bandage on his wound to keep it protected, prevent it from getting infected as best as she could.

As the day wore on, she could still hear the battle rage on down the road. All she could do was shake her head.

We should all band together, unite, not fight. She thought.

She stayed up the whole night, keeping watch.

One day, turned to three, she noticed Jensen wasn’t getting better.

She changed his bandage. Seeing it red, it was infected. She had used the antiseptic from earlier, but now they’re out, when she checked their packs.

“Shit.” She says.

Jensen, stayed asleep. His body fighting.

She noticed his color never came back. She placed a careful hand on his forehead.

He’s burning up.

I got to get him antibiotics, fast. She thought.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Jensen Tag list:

@luci-in-trenchcoats, @supernatural-jackles, @becs-bunker, @winchesters-favorite-girl, @mlovesstories, @salt-n-burn-em-all, @moonlight-on-her-skin, @backseat-of-deans-67chevy

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 10/19/2020

#spn #supernatural #spn rpf #supernatural rpf #spn fan fic #spn fanfic #spnfanfic #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fanfic #supernaturalfanfic #spn fan fiction #spn fanfiction #spnfanfiction #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural fanfiction #supernaturalfanfiction #jensen x reader #jensenxreader #jensen ackles

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smolbeandrabbles · 5 years ago

Text

Everybody Gonna Talk - Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody x Reader (Animal Kingdom)

GIF Credit: X

Author’s Note: ‘Scene’s We’d Like To See’ idea by Ms.@mandy23b - Sorry sweetie, I kinda twisted the idea a little so it’s not exactly as requested - but I hope you’ll forgive me!

Thank you for requesting 😘❤

Everybody Gonna Talk - Carly Pearce Disclaimer: Animal Kingdom characters not mine / Idea not mine / gifs not mine / lyrics not mine

Premise: PDA is not Andrew’s strong point, this you know for certain. But every so often, even Andrew Cody can’t help wanting you...

Words: 3589

Warnings: Swearing

__________ You got the bad, I got the honey Got the whole town putting their money on you Breaking my heart and running, You got the goods, know how flaunt it Whatever you're doing is making me want it Baby, I'm falling If they got the time, we got the business If they can't stay on their side of the fence then, oh Let's give 'em a show now, whoa Kiss me underneath the streetlight glow Make sure they got a good view through them windows And watch the word get around Hey, people always gonna say anything they wanna say They don't know your touch could start a riot Be anywhere you wanna be, just as long as you're with me Ain't no need for us to keep this quiet Everybody gonna talk Everybody gonna talk anyways Just give me all you got No, don't you ever stop People always gonna talk Go ahead and let 'em talk Let 'em talk ---

The phone on the table beeped, to alert its owner to a text. It was just a burner phone, like all the rest had been – but there was one consistent number that showed up in all of them. Two, now. Andrew Cody corrected himself as he wandered across the room to it, picking it up slowly. Considering that the first number was Baz’s, and he was sitting in this room – the person on the other end of that text could only have been you. “What’s up Pope?” Andrew stared at the mobile for a moment before putting it down again, stifling a smile. He didn’t answer his brother, and Craig muttered something from the couch. Which Andrew also didn’t hear, heading outside. Darren, Jay, Craig and Baz all gave each other the same look – but the youngest three were the ones who scrambled upstairs fastest. What the hell could be going on? Andrew wandered around the side of the house cautiously, looking this way and that. No car and no person escaped the dart of his eyes – these days the police could be anywhere, and everything was unmarked. And he wasn’t just risking this, but risking you. And only when he thought it was safe, did he proceed down the road. His walk was slow, as if he was doing nothing more than passing the time of day – a leisurely stroll that just about anyone could be on. In the hope that maybe to other people he was exactly that – just anyone. Until he rounded the corner. You were sitting on the hood of your car, swinging your legs gently – smile on your face. “Hey stranger!” His lips twitched but he didn’t quite smile; “What are you doing here?” “Well I figured if you weren’t going to let me meet your family, I’d take matters into my own hands!” His eyes shifted from you again, down both streets, and along the parked cars. You’d already done all these checks – but Andrew could never be too careful. There wasn’t a soul in sight on this summer afternoon apart from the two of you, and yet he still had to confirm that for himself. “That’s never going to be a good idea.” You gave a shrug; “You gonna stop me?” Though you had no doubt it would be easy for him. “Here is close enough.” Andrew stopped that lazy walk of his just in front of you, legs brushing yours; “For now.” “I really don’t see what you’re hiding this for.” “When you meet them, I think you’ll understand perfectly.” He placed his hands either side of you, leaning in. You had to arch your body back a little to keep your eyes on his. His stare was always intense and haunting; even when it was gentle – dare you say loving – it saw right through you. You didn’t have secrets between you, you didn’t see how it was plausible to keep anything from a man like this. But then you were the secret, so there was that. Eventually you stopped leaning, smile almost teasing; “But I have to meet them first.” His body remained close to yours, and your tease didn’t make him pull away; “Don’t expect it any time soon.” You supposed that would mean suggesting something else, considering you’d driven all the way up here; “…So you want to take my car around the block?” His blink was slow, and his face scrunched a little, in what could only be described as confusion. But you supposed he really meant ‘now, why would that be a good idea?!’ There was something nearly electric about the buzz of his body this close to yours. Andrew wasn’t as emotionless as he looked – at least not behind closed doors. It had taken you a little while, but no holds barred intimacy - where you literally bared and gave each other everything – proved this man could feel nearly anything. And with him not even inches from you now – foreheads almost touching, all you could think about was the feel of his skin against yours – and it was driving you wild. “Heck – or we could just make out here?” The chuckle came out as more of an exhale, but it was Andrew Cody that was confident enough to initiate the kiss. And you tangled your hands in his hair as he lay you back against your car. “Who the hell is that-!?” Craig was nearly at full volume as the three of them peered out of the window (open window no less, considering the outside temperature) – crowding around for the best view. “SHHHH!!! They’ll hear us-!” Baz almost rolled his eyes as he also ascended the stairs; “What are you doing-!?” “Yo! Baz, you’ll know, does Pope have a girlfriend-!?” “What are you…?” Of course Baz was about the only one that knew you existed, but he hadn’t actually met you yet, and he was curious. Peaking around the window frame he indeed was faced with the scene of a woman sitting on a car talking to Andrew; that must have been you, just by how close he was getting. And you weren’t afraid of him – Baz could tell by your body language. In fact, anything but, you wanted him closer. It was when Andrew leant in to kiss you that the other three almost started screaming. Which attracted the unwanted attention of Smurf. “What on earth is going ON up there-!?” “Pope’s got a fucking girlfriend!!!” Craig cackled disbelievingly, making Baz give him a shove; “Well if you can get one Craig, I’m sure anyone can!” “Yeah – but POPE!?” “What!?” Smurf, who of course wanted to know exactly what they were all hollering about, pushed through them, to watch her eldest making out with a woman on the hood of a car. Baz very nearly cringed at the look that began to set in on her face, because livid didn’t even cover it. But, being Andrew’s best friend – and wanting to significantly lighten the mood… knowing if everyone was on side, the argument now bound to happen wouldn’t be so bad as expected - Baz wanted to take this into his own hands, and encouragingly whistled; Craig joined in “DAMN MAN! GET IT!” Andrew couldn’t have pulled away any faster if he’d have tried; hissing. “Fuck!” You wanted to laugh, but as usual he’d made you breathless. His blue eyes were wide, and he tilted his head away from the house, scowling at the tarmac instead, this time voice a little louder - “Fuck!” You sat up, and pulled him back to you; placing a kiss to his forehead and temple, before catching his lips to catch him of guard; “Don’t worry baby, I’m sure nothing like this ever goes as planned.” And you didn’t let him protest that. Pulling him even closer to you than he was before. Despite everything, you couldn’t help but smirk against his lips as the cheering intensified. And if you pissed some people off in the meantime, so be it. *** It was always obvious to you that Andrew was not a PDA guy. He never would be, and that was always fine with you. His occasional touches, the way he would brush his hand over your shoulders, or accidently link his fingers with yours for five seconds when you walked together, grazing his cheek against yours – occasionally it’d be his lips and your heart would virtually skip - sometimes it would be the proximity within which he stood. Comfortable with you in his space – or protecting you by being in yours. Because Andrew had to know you were safe, it was about the only thing he really cared about. Or, his personal favourite, which was what he was doing this morning, just staring at you. You wondered how many could handle that. Sometimes it made you nervous, sometimes it made you smile so much your cheeks hurt. You wondered what it was; if he just liked watching you, if he was curious, if he was trying to figure you all out in his mind. All three? You’d reckon so. Sometimes you liked helping Smurf out in the kitchen, you weren’t sure how much she enjoyed this, but you decided that if you were helpful and sweet and gave her no reason to hate you (besides stealing Andrew – and she made enough jabs to let you know you were certainly stealing him) then it was on her. And by this point all the boys loved you; so she wasn’t about to get rid of you easily either. You thought she might never say it, but sometimes you thought she was happy to have another girl around – because it wasn’t like Baz and Cath lived here. So with everyone already gathered around the kitchen table, you were finishing up, smiling at their ridiculous morning chatter, when Andrew appeared. He stood at the far end of the kitchen counter, observant as ever. Those blue eyes never missed anything. It was a couple of minutes before he moved, slow steps down the counter – you’d already noticed him, but turned like you hadn’t. He made a motion with his hand to enquire whether or not you would like a drink, and you smiled gently with a nod. Again, the movement of his mouth wasn’t a smile, but it was something – and he brushed his arm across your back as he passed you, fingertips grazing across your waistline and making you bite your lip. You turned, and watched him pour you and himself a glass before he returned to you. Stopping just short of being too in your personal space, before sliding the glass to you. “Thank you.” He nodded, leaning against the counter, head tipping again. “What?” Although by the way Andrew’s hand moved across the surface and took yours, fingers overlapping one at a time, before he laced them together, you knew the answer to your question. His other hand reached out, tucking back stray strands of hair. He noticed it was something you did when he watched you often, whether a cute habit or nervous tick, but he sometimes liked doing it himself. You waited for him to come to you, and he did, slowly. There were mere inches between you, but Andrew made it feel like miles, before his lips touched yours. Everyone else was too involved in their conversations; as your grip on his hand tightened, your other hand winding around his waist to pull him closer. Eyes closed, he had the same idea, drawing you to him. The chatter ground to a halt, starting with Craig – who shut everyone else up. And soon cutlery was clattering to the floor or the table. Andrew!? PDA!?.... ANDREW!? They all turned to each other, as Andrew unlinked your hands to wind his other arm around you, to check everyone else was also seeing this. The kiss didn’t break, and he was the one to initiate the pressure changes, soft to rough and back again, how deep he wanted to go – you’d let Andrew break it too. And usually he did – then he’d pull away as if nothing happened. That’s the way he was. But when his lips were on yours, like this, you savoured every second of it – you wanted him closer, you wanted him so close that you didn’t know where you ended and he begun anymore. Though – preferably not in the kitchen of his mother’s house. And Andrew wasn’t that kind of man. Which only made you yearn for it more. “What the hell-!?!” Was the cry you heard from the table, but you didn’t bother paying attention to it. All that was running through your head was ‘Hell YES this is happening – and you’re gonna sit down, shut up and fucking witness it!’ Which came across as the smug smirk on your face. But it didn’t stop Andrew from kissing you. And you were proud of him for that. Smurf was probably sitting there freaking out once again but you also didn’t care about that. Liking or hating you was her decision. But Andrew was yours, and you were his. You moved your hand from the counter, raising it to them with a middle finger – directed as Craig specifically. Which raised a clamour from the table that you were satisfied with. This was thrilling and fast going to your head, and Andrew caught that – breaking from your lips, he kept his eyes on you – placing his forehead to yours. You closed your eyes once more, linking all your fingers with his. Sometimes, even this man could make you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. How many others could there possibly have been?

You reckoned you already knew the answer to that. You. Only you. *** Months Later…

He was still asleep when you woke. Andrew’s sleep was usually broken by strange dreams, so if he was sleeping soundly or sleeping straight, you liked leaving him to it. God knows he needed it. You pressed a gentle kiss into his bare shoulder and left the bed – gathering your clothes and wandering on through into the bathroom. The house was quiet – but already opened up, light and airy meant someone was up. You wouldn’t be surprised if it was Smurf, you knew she didn’t exactly like the sway you had over her oldest, because it broke her hold on him, but she tolerated you – maybe had even secretly warmed to you. And for now, you’d take it. Besides, you’d been on her bad side enough to know that Andrew would defend you if necessary. You showered quickly, singing quietly to yourself, and dressed in a soft vest top and shorts. You’d seen the weather earlier, and it was going to get hot. Maybe you’d get to chill with him on the back patio today… maybe you’d all have a barbeque - you’d like that. Something quiet and peaceful, things like that were rare in this family. You were just finishing up in the mirror, letting your hair airdry, when the door creaked open. That was another thing about getting up before all the boys in this house; that lock was damn faulty. Not that the man behind the door really gave a damn about things like that, whether that be you or any of his brothers. Andrew blinked against the light, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. And making you wonder why he’d even bothered to get up yet. “Mornin’ babe.” “Mornin’.” His return of your greeting was groggy and he rubbed his eyes, pushing the door closed with his foot. “Did you sleep well?” Though awake he didn’t look like it “Mhm.” He shrugged, walking forward to place his head on your shoulder. You were happy enough to receive any kind of affection from him, and you ran a hand through his hair; “Honey, why did you wake up?” “Can’t sleep.” can’t go back to sleep more like. But then he pulled back, head tipped, look inquisitive “…Were you singing?” You very nearly blushed, “I was.” “…I was listening.” He kept staring at you like he was going to continue the sentence, but he didn’t. Not quite all the way to a compliment, but the sentiment was there. “Thank you.” You said it anyway, kissing his cheek. His face was scratchy against your clean, smooth skin – making your rub your cheek as you pulled back. But Andrew didn’t let you pull very far – you smelt clean, like your brand of body spray, but like all his shower products too. You smelt like him, like his things, and that did make him smile – which only made you smile to see one on his face. Before you giggled; “You need a shave!” “Oh? Yeah?” “Mhm!” You turned back to the sink, running the tap – and then rifling through the medicine cupboard for his razor. “Mm.” Andrew repeated the sound you had made, as if he’d just remembered something. He reached into the cupboard himself, for a little orange bottle clearly marked Andrew Cody - you raised a curious eyebrow as you watched him unscrew the cap and then dry swallow one, but said nothing else. It was like proving he’d done it and he felt better to do it with you. All you did was give him a gentle nudge of appreciation as you shut the tap off, but he knew exactly what that meant. “Alright…” You sat up on the bathroom sink, tipping your head to him, and tugging him a little closer to you; “Come here and I’ll sort this mess…” “This mess!?” To be honest he didn’t look too bad, but if you got to tease him and he was going to respond to you positively, then of course you were going to say something like that. This was the Andrew you knew, playful wasn’t the right word – but he was reaching for it. He was so close, and trying. You didn’t mind what Andrew was, as long as he was trying. He placed his hands on the side of the sink and leant forward, blue eyes still calculating – still trying to figure out what exactly was in your head. You ran a hand through his hair, with a little nod, biting your lips together. Andrew closed his eyes to the feeling for a moment – letting it run through him – he wasn’t so much touch starved as unaccustomed to having someone like you touch him. Affection still played out like a foreign term to him, and it certainly did to the rest of his family they still watched the two of you together like it was a mirage. But then there was you. And there was something even Andrew Cody couldn’t explain about you. You made him hold still as you evenly distributed shaving cream over his face, allowing him to once again savour the feeling of your fingertips over his skin. He’d never admit that out loud. He would certainly never ever act like this in front of anyone else – possibly not even Baz. But when you were alone together – you didn’t dare say he was a different person - but for a moment you were sometimes able to forget what he did for a living, and that the word psychopath was sometimes a little too liberally floated around. You took a deep breath, and Andrew went from subdued to completely motionless as you took a razor to his face; “Look I know some out there would like to take a blade to my throat, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do the job for them.” You very nearly laughed; “Was that humour, Mr.Cody?” “No.” And you thought that was pretty true. The razor moved smoothly over his skin, and with a little help from the warm water you had him nearly done. Except he decided to tip his head to look in the mirror and judge that for himself; “No! Don’t move, I’m going to cut you! Keep still…!” Then he did smile, nearly a smirk; “Shouldn’t let you near me with sharp objects if you have that little faith in yourself.” “Carful or I’ll do the job for them.” “You’ll probably do it better. At least you know what you’re doing. Just make it a quick cut.” Then he squinted slightly, “Could be a bit messy. And my mother would never forgive you.” “Ooh- Cold! I don’t think she forgive me anyway.” “You’re growing on her.” You grimaced, thinking that wasn’t what you’d call it, and retrieved a towel to dry his face. You stared at each other for a moment longer, and you placed your forehead to his; “Andrew, I love you.” You didn’t expect an answer, you hadn’t ever been given one yet. Maybe he’d never tell you those three words – but Andrew had his own way of doing so. He closed his eyes again, pushing his head a little firmer against yours, hands slid up your arms to frame your face. Then he leant in, lips to yours – and softly. That only made you pull him closer to you, arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist. You weren’t about to let this moment go to waste; but Andrew had the same idea. He let you deepen the kiss; slow and gentle, but needy. The kind of make out session that would usually lead elsewhere, hands tangled in each other’s hair – but right now you were sitting on the edge of a sink. And the moment may well have passed. Andrew pulled your body flush to his; kiss becoming fervent, passionate – the kind that was going to leave you short of breath. Darren didn’t get the memo, and the bathroom door swung open again. You broke apart – facial expressions varying levels of annoyed. Darren didn’t fancy his chances with either – covering his face “OH, SHIT! THIS AGAIN-!?!” Andrew’s face was suddenly back to what you were used to around his family, that vacant coldness that scared nearly everyone. His hands had dropped to your sides, but he hadn’t left you. “You wanna get the fuck out.” “Y-Yeah-!” Darren backed away and took off down the corridor, only making Andrew sigh angrily; “Close the FUCKING DOOR why don’t ya-!?” You stifled a laugh as he sighed angrily. “Good morning Cody household.” Andrew huffed, picking you up off the sink, - not willing to share you with anyone just yet - and carrying you back towards his bedroom, which had you internally ecstatic; “Not on my watch.”

---

@menndelsohn @3134045126 @happyskywhale @wltz-bby #MendoTagSquad

#God I hope he's in character #If this song isn't a good Andrew theme I don't know what is #I'm 99.9% sure she's the girl from Pride. Given her attitude and the way he addresses her skill set #UGH -! GOD I love this!#Andrew Cody x Reader #Andrew Cody #Ben Mendelsohn #Andrew Pope Cody #Pope Cody x Reader #Animal Kingdom #Linzi Writes #Smol Bean Drabbles #125 #I aspire to be her level of sass and attitude towards the rest of his family

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