#Coming back from the dead and having to go through everything that he did | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beardedjoel · 11 hours ago

Text

indebted

dark!joel x f!reader. one shot.

summary: you're having a bad day. one you think is getting better once a rough around the edges man comes to your rescue. you didn't expect it would takes such a sharp turn for the worse. first person pov reader. 9.2k words.

warnings: 18+ MDNI! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT! NON CONSENUAL SEXUAL ACTS, READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION, pervy, sleazy, and foul mouthed joel. degradation, sexual favors, forced oral and piv, virgin reader, corruption, innocence, and daddy kinks featured. biiig ol' age gap (reader's age not mentioned other than "young" but i imagine her as 18-20 as she has a relatively immature attitude, imagining joel 50-55), this is not for everyone and that's okay. i'm not responsible for the content you consume.

a/n: i had some hormonal induced insanity and came up with this. i had a great time trying out a new pov for writing fic! enjoy him as much as i did, friends 🖤 and thanks @joelstummy for the amazing freaky beta work!

I’ll be the first person to admit now that what I’ve been doing is stupid. Dangerous. Idiotic. The list goes on. I can hear my father’s stern, militant voice in the back of my head, telling me as much. Except now he likely won’t get the chance to relish in it because I’m going to die here. Way out here where nobody will find my body, and I’ll be just another person that went missing in the QZ, never to be seen again. But this time, it’s not some sleazy FEDRA scheme and coverup or a smuggling deal gone wrong.

It’s utterly and completely my fault.

Sneaking out wasn’t meant to become a habit, but after the first few times, I lost the fear and adrenaline that had burned hot through my veins at those first steps of freedom. I craved it again, so I kept going further. And further. Away from civilization as I knew it, until the cluster of buildings known as the Quarantine Zone became a tiny speck in the distance. Out here was desolation, nothingness, only abandoned buildings to explore. The infected were another story, but I started to learn routes that helped me avoid encounters with them.

It helped clear my mind after a while, this newly found sense of adventure. All I’d ever known was a cage, a walled city that had become so mundane I felt my insides starting to rot from the listlessness of it all. My father was important - top in the rankings - I knew that, and it was all the more reason to keep me safely locked away while the city stirred with chatter of an uprising against FEDRA.

He never bothered to check on me much, anyways, making my little forays quite easy. Once I’d persuaded enough people with ration cards, they’d shown me the tunnel leading to freedom. Well, that tunnel, then another, a ladder to climb back up to the surface, and only then could I go through a precarious hole in a chain link fence. That was the smuggler’s route, they said, an easy ticket to getting in and out without being noticed.

I’d been abusing it, staying out for days at a time, never able to drink in enough of this quiet solitude that was of my own choosing, not my father’s. I couldn’t quite figure out what hole inside of me I was trying to fill, but I’d be damned if I stopped trying.

However, today seemed to be my last chance to try at all. His footsteps had been quiet - so quiet - approaching behind me. An old store, full of half decayed plushies, molded candies, and other adorable things from lives long put in the past, had called to me, distracted me. The arm around my throat, constricting, the other coming up to put a hand over my mouth. A dirty, putrid smell encompassing everything as I sputtered against him. This is it, I’d thought. What a waste.

I scream and fight against the strong hold he has on me, a nasty sneer right against my skin. “What’s some fresh meat like you doing waaaay out here, huh?” a dark voice rattles into my ear.

I scream behind his dirty palm in response, kicking my legs back at him. I should have learned more self defense, but who needs it when you’ve spent most of your life safely tucked away with your family name as your biggest protector?

“You smell good… real good…” The creep’s voice buzzes by me as he takes a deep breath in, making me shudder. One swift kick and I’m sure this is it, the one to knock him senseless and let me escape. He’s smart for how distracted he seems to be by my scent, and he’s one step ahead of me. My legs are kicked out from underneath me as I rear one back, and I fall to the ground, the man coming down with me to sit on my back, straddling my body in a fluid motion. He grips my hands behind my back, leaving me helpless in my fight, kicking and screaming. I’m ice and heat all at once, my body burning in a frozen blaze, my fight or flight quickly turning to fawn as his weight presses down on me.

“You can have anything in my backpack, anything! Please, let me go! I - I don’t want any trouble,” I choke out pathetically, hating how my voice comes out in shaky waves. This isn’t how to appeal to people like this, people who have lost their sense of humanity, evident by the way he’s now grinding himself down onto my jean clad asscheeks.

A laugh comes out of him that would haunt me as evil incarnate for the rest of my days if I wasn’t so sure that I was going to die at the hands of this man after he was done with me. “We both know I don’t give a fuck about any damn backpack of yours. I don’t want any trouble either, sweet cheeks, I just think you’d have a lot of fun with me and my friends. But mostly me,” he replies with the hint of a wink in his voice.

My stomach clenches, sickness rolling in that is only furthered as the man leans down, cloaking me with his large form. I can’t turn enough to see him, to even know what this violation of a man looks like, but his energy is beyond hideous as I catch a glimpse of his yellowing teeth in a grin before he pushes my head down to the cracked linoleum tiles. My hair tangled in his fingers, he holds me down hard, and I struggle to breathe as he crushes me beneath him.

“Now, are you gonna come easily, or do I need to do things the hard way? Either way is fine with me, for a fine piece of ass like this. In fact, I might prefer it the hard way, but we’d hate to ruin this pretty skin of yours, wouldn’t we?” He says slowly, pressing the cold blade of a knife to my throat.

“O-okay, okay,” I acquiesce, stopping my squirming, just needing a bit of room to breathe, my lungs heavy inside my chest. My panic only makes my chest tighter, even when the man leans back the tiniest bit. I had hoped that my sudden compliance would get that knife off my throat, but it hasn’t. “Just don’t hurt me… please…” I whimper.

He lets out a long, ragged sigh. “Afraid I can’t promise that.”

I’ve never felt fear like this, such certainty that I was about to be ruined, my life as I know it changing without a chance to even look back. I squeeze my eyes shut and brace for it, for anything he’s about to do next, finally accepting that there isn’t any appealing to scummy men in a scummy world. But nothing comes except for a muffled crack ringing through the air, and then a thud as the entire weight of my adversary falls on top of me, crushing. Something warm has splattered on my skin, my face, then starts to coat my jacket, seeping through. I shake violently, begging my body to catch a full breath under the weight of him.

Then as suddenly as it happened, it stops, the body yanked off of me and tossed to the side with ease. The deafening thud of his entire weight onto the ground is stark. I flip over and scramble backwards, grabbing the knife that had fallen from the man’s hand in his swift, final moment. Holding up a shaky hand, I grip the knife tightly, looking up to face a brutish, tall man with overgrown hair of chestnut and gray. A trim beard with the same coloring wraps around his tightly set jaw. He’s all wide shoulders, thick arms, broad chest, and my senses go on high alert again. His gun is practically still smoking as it hangs at his side, an active threat.

“Y’alright?” he drawls, thick and deep, echoing through the abandoned shop. One step closer to me has the knife practically flailing as I struggle to calm my hands, a strained hum alongside my shaky breathing the only sound I seem capable of making.

“Put that thing down,” he says calmly, almost exasperated. His stance slackens, one knee pushed out as he sizes me up. I’m likely the most miserable looking thing he’s seen in a while, I’m sure. “You’re harmless.”

“H-how do I know you’re not with him?” I blurt out.

My gruff savior lifts his brows incredulously. “That guy?” he asks, motioning impatiently to the dead body only a foot away. “Think I’d be puttin’ a bullet right in his skull if he was my best buddy?”

My eyes dance over him as I think. He has a point, and he did just save me from whatever debauched things that stranger’s mind had been conjuring up.

“Y-yeah, you have a point,” I finally say. He steps closer, and this time, I let him, putting the knife down. He motions with an authoritarian air for me to push it away, and I obey immediately, flinging it across the room.

“Poor fucker died with a hard on, didn’t he?” The man muses as his boots thud on the way over to the body, kicking it slightly as if to check, letting it roll back before turning his attention on me. “Now, are you usually this stupid, comin’ into hunter territory, or what?” he asks, reaching a hand down to me, presumably to help me up.

“I didn’t know…” I mumble, letting his hand hang there. He doesn’t snatch it back right away, although I can tell he wants to, that he’s already beyond exasperated by his day and the last thing he’d wanted was a damsel in distress like me. I hate that he’s proving all the things I’d been trying to disprove about myself by coming out on these solo trips into the great, big outside. I’m weak. Dependent. Needy. It makes my skin crawl with self loathing and frustration.

“Didn’t know, huh? So just clueless, then?” the man spits out, staring down at me with darkened eyes that make me turn my head away in shame. At my sullen silence, he seems to soften a little. “I’m Joel,” he says, an offering to go along with his outstretched hand.

I sigh, taking it and telling him my own name. I’m up on my feet, dusting myself off and looking at him shyly now. I don’t know what people are supposed to say when someone saves their life, so I just mumble, “Thank you.”

Joel snorts, nodding in acknowledgment as he crouches to pat down the body, seeming to come up short of anything interesting. “Don’t thank me yet,” he says, standing back to his full, towering height, glancing around with sharp eyes. “We should move.”

I might be as stupid as he says, because I wordlessly start to follow him towards the door. His hand stretches out behind him, open and inviting me in as he checks outside the door with a careful peek, his gun held tightly in the other. I stare down at it in disbelief. “C’mon, I don’t bite,” he sighs, that perpetual vexation in his tone again as he twitches his brows at me. “Need you close by. An’ it seems you have a tendency to go where you shouldn’t.”

My cheeks grow hot at the harsh truth of it, and I grasp his hand without any further objections, marveling for a moment at the way it envelops mine. All calloused and hard, mine soft and unused for labor of any kind.

“I’ve got a safehouse not too far from here.”

“A safehouse?”

“It’s already gettin’ dark. There ain’t no way we’re making it back to the QZ today, princess,” he retorts quickly, the pet name mocking on his tongue.

“How’d you know?” I ask softly, disappointment pressing in on my shoulders.

He chuckles out more of a snort, pulling me around a bend, slowly leaving behind the dangerous territory that I’d unknowingly encroached on. “You’re a FEDRA princess if I’ve ever seen one,” he tells me, and my heart sinks that I was so easy to read. I’d seen how capable this man Joel was, but damn was he was astute, more than I’d given him credit for.

I chew at my lip. “Fair enough,” I mumble under my breath, letting him take his well earned win. The longer I hang onto Joel’s hand, letting him expertly weave me through the barren streets, the safer I start to feel. He knows where he’s going, a practiced route he’s taken countless times, and it hits me then that this man is a smuggler. He has to be.

“Are you a smuggler?” I ask pointedly. “I’ve heard that people like that come in and out of the QZ.”

Joel falters for just a brief second, giving me a wily grin. “Look who’s readin’ who now,” he says with a dry chuckle. “Ain’t gonna run and tell your daddy, are you?”

I shake my head, pressing my lips together in a smile. “I can keep a secret.” In fact, I like keeping secrets from my father, hence the sneaking out, so Joel can count on me to never rat him out.

His amused grin in response lights a little flame akin to friendship inside of me. This grumpy old bastard could smile after all. “Just through here,” he says, letting the smile drop, taking a sharp left down a street just as a sprinkle of rain starts to fall on us. It’s a less urban area - more like a neighborhood - sprouted with apartment buildings and abandoned, vine covered cars. It’s my favorite thing about all the exploration I’ve been doing, seeing the way nature can reclaim anything and make it her own.

The cracked street below us makes me tread carefully, lagging behind as Joel’s hand tugs me along urgently. We turn down an alley, Joel whipping his head left to right before dragging me behind him, finally dropping my hand to open a door that leads right into a tiny lobby and a stairwell. He runs a hand through his damp hair, slicking it back some - a rather handsome look for him, now that I’m thinking about it. I try to ignore that thought as his voice booms through the empty room.

“Up,” he commands, gripping my hand again and leading us up the stairs.

My stomach sinks a little when he takes out a key, unlocking a padlock on one of the apartments numbered 405 and pushing the old, chipped door inwards. I have no reason not to trust Joel, he saved my life afterall, but I can’t shake the nerves I feel from being in an unfamiliar place with an unfamiliar man. It’s quiet here, likely nobody in the vicinity but the two of us.

“Home sweet home,” he grunts out, dropping his backpack and gun holster near the door and shrugging off his damp jacket, leaving him in a plain tee shirt that hugs his muscular frame. It’s a small, cramped apartment with a living room and kitchen directly next to it, a little window cut into the wall, peering in on the living room from above the stove. It looks as if it’s left exactly as it was years ago, full of furniture and clutter, only a vessel for Joel to use without making it his own at all. I peer past to see a small hallway I can only assume leads to a bedroom and bathroom.

“Know it ain’t the palace you’re probably used to, but we’ll be safe an’ dry here,” he say, and I roll my eyes behind his back. If Joel thinks that I live in a palace, he’s clearly misunderstood the state that the QZ is in. My father’s house is spacious, sure, but it’s just as dilapidated as the rest of the city. The only difference is the level of protection afforded to our homes.

He ambles into the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets with a clatter, then comes back moments later with an open can of beans and two forks. I’m still standing in the entryway, unsure of what to do with myself.

“Hungry?” he asks gruffly, and I shake my head, wide eyed. I’d lost my appetite the minute that man had grabbed me earlier, and I couldn’t seem to get it back. Joel shrugs, digging in with a messy forkful of from the can. “Your funeral,” he says, chewing.

Joel sinks down onto the couch with a tiny groan, setting down the can on the side table next to his armrest, giving the other cushion an expectant look. “Well, you gonna sit your ass on down an’ tell me why the hell I had to save it today, or what? Why the hell you’re wanderin’ around like it’s a free for all out there?”

I flinch slightly at his harsh tone, but gingerly step my way into the room, unzipping my jacket and shedding it. For the chill outside, the temperature inside the apartment is more comfortable than I’d expect, my skin welcoming the change. Joel eyes my thin tee shirt, and I feel a flash of heat sweep my skin before I feel the prickle of goosebumps, knowing my nipples are poking through the fabric. His eyes catch there before he promptly averts them.

I sit precariously next to Joel on the loveseat, pressed as far away as I can from him, not wanting to cramp his personal space. But he seems to have no problem with that anyways, his legs spread wide open in a comfortable stance, leaned back against the cushions. He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes shut for a moment as he awaits my answer.

“I was… exploring,” I say simply, cringing at how ridiculous it sounds coming out of my mouth. Who leaves perfect safety to wander around in a dangerous world on purpose? For no other reason than curiosity and a sudden, rebellious sense of defiance?

His eyes snap open, head pulling up from the couch, turning my way. “Explorin’…” He mulls on the word, slowly licking his lips before pursing them. “You’re tellin’ me I had to save a FEDRA brat today ‘cause she was explorin’? You really are stupid. ‘Course you are, look how young y’are. Look how fuckin’... sheltered.” Joel throws his hands up, landing them on his thighs with a soft thud, sighing. “Can’t even blame ya.”

I pluck up every bit of courage I have, glaring at him with narrowed eyes. “Look, it was really nice of you to save me and everything, and I do thank you for it. I’m sorry if I messed up whatever… smuggling stuff you had going on today, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me… stupid.” The last word is quiet, mousy, and I turn my head down, eyes shining with unshed tears that I silently curse myself for. My father’s voice rings through my head - you stupid girl! - making me shudder.

Joel sucks at his teeth. “Hit a nerve, I see,” he says passively. “Alright, I’m sorry kiddo. I just mean, you’re puttin’ yourself at risk doin’ what you’re doin’, and it ain’t a smart idea. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I sigh out, relaxing a little. “I just needed to get away.”

“From your dear old daddy?” he teases, picking up the can, shoveling several more bites into his mouth. I go silent, picking at a thread on the couch rather than answer him. “Ah, another nerve, I see. Daddy issues. Could’ve guessed that one.”

“I don’t have -”

“Sweetheart…” Joel interrupts, looking at me from under his brows, pulling his lip between his teeth, seeming to look at me in a fresh light. It sends my skin tingling, the way he eyes me, a glint in his stare. It seems to prove his point, the way a pet name from a middle aged man seems to immobilize me against my will. I want to slap the smug look off his face, but I have no grounds to do so, only grumbling quietly with my cheeks blazing in embarrassment. A prickle of something else works its way deep into my belly, something warm at how his scrutinizing eyes flick over my body, the lines in his face set, showing his age, his experience.

“Take a piece of advice from a man probably as old as your daddy, then. Trust me when I say that outside those walls ain’t the place to find what you’re lookin’ for. The sooner you let go of that notion, the better off you’ll be.”

Frustration blooms hot in my chest, overpowering whatever the hell that sudden, unwanted feeling was. I’m tired of people dictating what I can and can’t do, what I’m capable of. “People do it all the time - smugglers - you would know,” I retort. “I’ve been doing it for months. Never had a problem until today. It was just some bad luck.”

“Bad luck? Really? You’d be that man’s newest little cock sleeve if it weren’t for me savin’ your ass,” Joel growls, standing up off the couch. I wince at his vulgar language, the picture it paints in my mind of what life might have been like if Joel hadn’t happened to be in the right place at the right time.

“I - I know - I’m sorry,” I blurt out, feeling my hands start to go shaky. “Thank you, Joel, I really - I really do owe you. Everything.”

“Like I said, don’t thank me yet.” He steps over so that he’s in front of me, using his boot to part my legs, scooting them apart and standing between them. “Think I did all this out of the kindness of my heart, did you? Didn’t think that maybe I was after the same damn thing as buddy boy earlier?”

I’m like a fish out of water, the way my lips move with no sound coming out. “Joel…” I breathe out in warning, in questioning. I see his arms strain in his t-shirt, hands flexing open and closed.

“I can’t say the thought ain’t crossin’ my mind now. You are mighty pretty. And you do owe me a favor. One big ol’ gigantic favor, for savin’ your backside.” He brushes his fingers along his jeans, palming his crotch for a brief second before leaning forward, caging me in on the couch with hands on either side of me, pressing into the cushions. My heart hammers in my chest so loud I expect Joel can hear it, can feel the fear taking hold of me. He bares his teeth above me like a wild animal, and now I’m certain he can smell my fear too, that he thrives on it.

“You know what? Maybe you were bound to find what you were lookin’ for outside those walls. Maybe that’s what you needed, is it? Couldn’t find any love from daddy back home, so you wanted to find someone to turn you into their own personal little play thing. Poor baby just needed some attention, did she? Sad, really.”

My hands tremble, my words lost as I can only breathe in shaky little breaths, shaking my head violently. How can this god forsaken day keep getting worse?

“Please -” I mumble out, bringing a jittery hand up to my mouth. Joel slaps it away, gripping my chin harshly at first, inspecting me before his thumb brushes over my bottom lip. I’d think it was gentle, caring, even, if not for the nasty look spreading across his face, the grin that darkens it along with his eyes.

“Time to put this pretty thing to better use and show how grateful you are to ol’ daddy Joel,” he says, using his free hand to deftly unbuckle his belt, the jangling sound like a death knell, making my throat go dry. “Promise I’ll be much better than he would’ve been earlier. People say I’m… a generous lover.” His drawl is slow and calculated, voice deep with lust, the sly smirk turning to a triumphant grin as he chuckles, amusing himself.

He grips the top of my head, pushing me to slide down the couch cushions into a slump as I struggle, powerless against a man of his strength. He positions himself higher up to bring the giant denim bulge right in my view. I wince, trying to turn my head away as his zipper comes undone, his hand grasping deep into the fly of his jeans, yanking his cock out. When it springs free, I gasp as he lets it slap me in the face. Hot, throbbing, and massive, leaking a shiny bead of precum that had ended up somewhere on my cheek. I sit stunned and held in place by his rough hand.

The cold hard fact hits me that this is the first time I’m ever going to experience intimacy of any kind. Hell, I’ve only had one kiss before, and it was when I was ten years old, with a boy belonging to one of my father’s friends, a name I can’t even remember now. The first penis I’m ever seeing is right here, right now, in a context I have had zero control over. It’s thicker than I’d imagined one could be, softer too as I look at the skin of it. Veins run along the sides and bottom, all leading up to an imposing, angry pink head at the tip, practically bursting as it awaits me. It’s magnificent and terrifying at the same time, nothing like what I’d expected based on the half-assed health classes provided by schooling in the QZ. Sex has always had a shroud of mystery for me, and I never imagined that all those secrets, long awaited, would be uncovered like this. A dingy bedroom, a man likely almost three times my age, and me as an unwilling participant. Desperation swiftly grips my chest as I realize I actually have no clue what goes on behind closed doors between two people, and I have a feeling I’m about to find out in the crudest of ways.

The fearful innocence I know is about to be stolen from me causes tears to sting at my eyes, fat little droplets that instantly start to roll down my cheeks, leaking onto Joel’s large fingers still gripped around my chin. I start to struggle, my body seeming to catch up with my mind, loud warning sirens of DANGER! DANGER! finally blaring out in a panic. When I squirm, Joel plants one of his knees into my body, keeping himself balanced while still being able to hold me down.

“Don’t cry now, honey, it’ll only make him harder.” He sneers as he strokes his cock, slapping the head against my closed lips a few times. He wrenches my jaw down, forcing it open. “Nice ‘n wide for this big boy, there we go,” he says, not waiting a moment longer to barge his cock past the opening while he has it.

He groans loudly as he shoves several inches in right from the get go, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head. The hand that had been holding my jaw presses in on my shoulder, holding me in place. I’d have nowhere to go, anyways, with his knee on my thighs, his entire body caging me in, the cushions giving me no leeway to the way his cock is forcefully intruding, inch by inch down my throat. The taste is all consuming - a little salty, a little ripe, tasting like days of Joel’s old sweat, but it’s not completely bad, not what I’d have expected. It’s heady in a strange way, clouding my mind as I try to cope with the fullness in my mouth.

The next moment I sputter, my eyes popping open wide, flooded with tears as he hits the back of my throat. I try to gasp for air and I find that I can’t. This is torture of some form, it must be. Full panic follows, where I try to move, but every avenue is pinned down in some way by Joel’s massive body. I weakly flap at him with my hands but it barely even deters him from rocking his hips in and out, choking me again on the thrust inwards as the back of my throat tightens, gagging around his thick girth.

“Open up, relax your goddamn throat,” Joel hisses at me, keeping his cock pressed fully to the back of my throat, constricting any airflow I was hoping to have. I finally breathe shakily out of my nose when he pulls back just enough, only to slide it in slowly, his eyes carefully watching me. I glance up for the first time at him from below, hoping to find any shred of humanity he might have for me, but I’m met with an icy, dark gaze clouded with lust, power.

“Gonna fuck your face now, like the dumb little slut you are. This is what stupid girls get for wanderin’ around by themselves. This is what they ask for.” He punctuates the last words with a sharp thrust inwards, my entire body convulsing with the gag I sputter out around him, drool pooling around my stretched lips. I would whimper if I could, if I even had the air to do so.

Joel is relentless for the next few moments, rapid thrusts in and out of my mouth, my head held conveniently in place against the couch cushions for him. He groans deeply, his pleasure evident while I’m just trying to get my next breath in. I time them expertly, learning as I go, letting him continue to take from me to gain his own pleasure.

“That’s it, that’s right, you’re turnin’ into quite the good girl,” Joel mutters above me, rolling his hips with vigor and making me gag again. I can feel drool dribbling down my chin, my neck, landing on my chest, and it makes me feel ashamed, embarrassed, and a twinge of something else. I can’t tell as Joel grunts, pumping himself in and out of my gruesomely contorted jaw, if the fact that it’s something even remotely sexual has me feeling things I shouldn’t. My cheeks burn hot as my eyes continue to water - how much of it is crying and how much of it is just my body’s response to him hitting the back of my throat, I don’t know.

Then he surprises me by slowing down, languid strokes of his cock in and out with sloppy sounds, a soft hand landing on my head, stroking before bundling my hair in his fist tightly. “Knew you’d have such a filthy little mouth for daddy,” he coos, rolling his hips forward a little further, touching the back of my throat with his cock.

My body spasms a little when he keeps pushing, grumbling quiet groans of approval. My eyes squeeze shut, leaking out an onslaught of tears. I don’t want to see the aftermath if it ends up that it’s one gag too many and the inevitable happens. But to my surprise, he keeps slipping down, intruding on my throat. I try to keep my trembling body still, wanting to keep my throat relaxed, terrified of what might happen if I fight this. Can a person die this way? Could I really choke to death on this man’s dick?

“Jesus fuck. Lord have fuckin’ mercy…” Joel breathes out as he pushes even further. “Swallowin’ him down, aren’t ya? Feel me right in here, I bet.” I flinch when he touches his hand to the column of my throat, wrapping his fingers softly around the flesh. When he starts to retreat, the choking is back in a second, but Joel holds me by the throat, keeping my neck craned back, returning to the brutal way he’d been abusing my mouth. I groan and sputter and try to cough through all of it, my mouth stuffed full over and over again before I can get a breath in.

He’s relentless, and then it stops all at once, his cock popping out from between my lips with a wet, lewd sound. A stream of drool follows, a gush that dribbles down onto my already soaked shirt, and I cough violently, my hands flailing to clutch at my chest.

As soon as the pressure of Joel’s body lifts off of me, I’m scrambling to somewhere, anywhere else, my limbs stiff and achy, my jaw panging with a soreness I’ve never felt before. He stands in front of me, one hand shooting out to grab the collar of my shirt before I can even get fully off the couch, pulling me close.

“Does it look like you’re done showin’ your gratitude yet?” he growls out, gripping the back of my head and forcing me to look down at his cock, still standing at full attention, shiny and dripping with saliva. I swallow hard, the lump painful on the way down. Joel shakes my head for me, the burn at my scalp making me wince. He presses his hips flush with mine, forcing his erection against my thigh before slipping it between them. He leans in close, hot breath ghosting over my face before his lips brush mine.

“You do make a pretty cocksleeve, y’know. Suckin’ cock like a cheap whore, wonder if you take it the same way in your cunt.”

I whimper, shaking my head, the tears non-stop as they roll down my cheeks. “Please… don’t. You don’t have to do this…”

Joel scoffs. “If I put my hand down your pants to that pretty little snatch, tell me I wouldn’t find you wet right now.” He punctuates the words with a sharp pull on my scalp. I cry out, lip quivering, trying to shake my head. “Don’t lie t’me after I’ve been so, so generous t’you today.”

I’m spinning around, a dizzying sensation, Joel’s strong bicep brought across my chest as his other hand delves below my waistline, plunging deep, right to my cotton panties, bypassing the waistband of those, too. Without care, without any sense of boundaries, his fingers explore, slipping through my sensitive slit with ease. I yelp, squirming at the intrusion, and Joel’s deep chuckle behind me confirms what I already knew, what I was beyond confused by.

“Thought so,” he says gruffly, then he cups my entire mound, giving an almost comforting sensation, holding his hand tightly pressed to it. “Nothin’ to be upset about, we’re just havin’ a little fun, payin’ off your debt to dear ol’ Joel, okay?”

I shake my head. “I - I shouldn't be here… it shouldn’t be like this,” I whisper in a cracking voice, hanging my head low as the tears just keep coming, damn them.

Joel’s fingers start to move slowly, just starting with one, stroking gently up my lips, spreading my slickness around. I’m surprised that it feels good, a pleasant little tingle zipping right to my core that I quickly lament, hating myself for it. “What shouldn’t be like this, hm? That you shouldn’t like my cock down your throat? It’s perfectly natural, doll,” he says, somehow soft and condescending in the same breath.

“A-all of this,” I whimper, “Please, j-just let me go. I w-won’t say anything, I won’t do anything. I just…”

Joel quietly shushes me, letting his finger do the talking for a moment. It drags up to my clit, rubbing tiny, enticing little circles. I bite my lip hard, enough to taste copper, trying to suppress the moan climbing its way up from my chest.

“It’s okay, it’s okay that it feels good. It’s ‘sposed to. Good little sluts like you don’t know any better, don’t care what it is that’s gettin’ their panties wet. Desperate,” he growls, fingers sliding through the slick mess that’s now drooling onto the cotton. “Just relax, let it happen…” I feel his breath, hot on my ear, before he nibbles, biting down hard on the earlobe, tugging it with his teeth. It bursts out, the whimpering moan I’d been holding back, just as he pinches my clit at the same time as the bite.

He laughs. He has the nerve to laugh and it sends a shiver down my spine, my brain muddled and confused and turned on by the eroticism at play here. He soothes me by nuzzling my neck, taking a long, deep breath in. I squirm as Joel’s hand retreats, and I wonder for just a moment, a brief, all consuming moment, if maybe he’s seen reason. When his fingers find the buttons of my jeans, my heart plummets to depths previously unknown as he unbuttons them, pulling the zipper down slowly, the only sound in the room his harsh breathing right on my neck.

“Please, I gave you what you want already,” I beg once more, feeling it fall on deaf ears as Joel tugs my jeans down, revealing my pink cotton panties. They’re my favorite pair - were my favorite pair - a rare find in a world like this. Pretty pale pink with a nice lacy trim and a little bow at the front. Only now, they’d belong to Joel.

Joel clicks his tongue in approval of the sight, pulling his head back to peer at my underwear from the back before his hand grips my ass, jiggling it roughly. “Oh, you’re jus’not getting it, are you? You feel this?” he asks angrily, letting me feel the hard length of his cock pressed to my ass cheeks, threatening to slip between my thighs. “This means you didn’t give me nearly half of what I want yet. He’s still achin’ for ya, princess.”

I grit my teeth, hating the pet name, the way he’s using who I am to mock me. It’s a low blow. I hated everything to do with being associated with my father - I knew he wasn’t a good man - and I hated most that it was so obvious to a stranger which echelon of society I belonged to. If I was so important, where were they now, huh? I want to scream those words at him, but instead I just feel my legs tremble underneath me, my knees feeling like jelly as they almost give out on me.

“Please!” I struggle against his hold, but it only makes him grip my ass tighter, hard enough to bruise. “I-I’m a virgin,” I suddenly squeak out, unsure of why I say it other than some last ditch effort to deter him. My heart pounds as he stills, dead silent with his hand grasping my ass like it’s his next meal, like he owns it.

“Well ain’t it my lucky day. Shit, that’s why you were sputterin’ all over my damn cock, ain’t it?” he says as the epiphany dawns on him, laughing. My cheeks blaze hotter and hotter, hating that I’m even embarrassed at my lack of experience and skills, like I have some sick need to impress him. He notices my tension, my head hanging low as I cry new tears, and says, “Hey, hey, nothin’ to be ashamed for. In fact…” His hand fists in my underwear, tight and unrelenting. I feel his cock press against my ass again, harder than ever before it slips between my thighs. “Makes me awful excited,” he purrs, bringing his mouth to my ear again.

I only give him a timid whimper in reply, squeezing my eyes shut as I realize there is nothing I can do to stop this man. He thinks I’m a cheap whore, and he loves it. I’m a pure virgin, and he loves it even more.

He squeezes me tighter to his chest, my back starting to sweat through my thin tee shirt. “The hell were you savin’ yourself for anyways? Marriage? A sweet pussy like this?” At my silence, he cups my pussy hard, letting the dampness of my underwear soak into his palm. “Answer me!” he barks out.

“I - I wasn’t! I don’t know!” I cry out, trembling.

“Well,” he says, fisting my panties again, starting to pull them down. “M’honored you’d let me be your first, sweetheart,” he drawls, and I nearly scream at the insinuation. I’m not letting him do anything.

I start to put up more of a fight, useless against his thick arms holding me so tightly. Cool air touches my ass and the space between my thighs as he manages to shimmy my panties further down even in my struggle. I clamp my legs shut in defiance, roaring out a strained grunt as I keep trying to squirm out of his grasp. He huffs in anger, trying to subdue my writhing body before he pushes it towards the couch. I land hard, banging my knee on the hard edge that supports the cushion, wincing and trying to catch my breath. I’m practically in position for him already, ass pressed out towards him, on my hands and knees.

“Gonna make me do things the hard way, are you?” He scowls, his free hand fisting in my hair again, pulling me close. His breath is hot over my shoulder, the sensation vile against the skin of my cheek, stained with tears. “Been too long since I found a pretty virgin like you. An’ ruinin’ this perfect, pure little cunt is jus’ the cherry on top of a perfect day f’me.”

I feel his hard cock twitch against me, a reminder of what’s to come. The movements are quick for how bulky Joel’s body is, let alone his age, as he exchanges the hold across my chest for my wrists, bundling them behind my back. I cry out at the strain, the awkward angle he’d twisted them to, fighting him again until a hard smack lands on my ass. I scream through gritted teeth, not giving up the fight, but another thwap! rings out through the apartment, making me falter. My tender flesh screams at me in agony when he lands another spank, even harder this time, then another, until I’m crying unrelenting, fat tears.

With me rendered motionless, Joel presses down, bending me over, my balance tricky with my hands behind my back. My face nearly touches the couch, but I’m precariously held up by the wrists, the strain already making them ache. The warmth dripping between my thighs betrays me as my ass stings in residual little pulses, so raw and sore but spreading a pleasure through me that I’ve never known before.

I don’t have time to dwell on it before Joel is grasping one hand on my hip, notching himself at my entrance. “Promise you’re gonna like this, that you’ll never be able to think of anyone else’s cock but daddy Joel’s,” he spews gruffly in my ear before he thrusts hard, one swift motion to bury himself inside of me. I scream out, the searing pain between my thighs making me wonder if I’m being split open for good, if it’s possible that some things are just too big to fit in certain places of the body.

“Fuuuuuuck,” Joel hisses through his teeth, making the tiniest thrusting motions to ensure he’s buried deep. Every movement pierces me with a new sting as my body desperately tries to adjust, to accommodate the horrible, overwhelming intrusion. “You were not kiddin’, sweetheart. Tightest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever been in.”

I sob, unable to speak, unable to move as Joel thrusts brutally from the get go, his hips snapping with force, crashing into mine hard enough to bruise. The lewd sounds we make disgust me, because I know I’m part of those sounds, my body enjoying the filthy things he’s saying, the way he’s taking me without remorse. He pulls himself out, clicking his tongue as he peers down between our bodies. “Christ, you are one sexy little bird. Poor little virgin bleedin’ on daddy’s cock.”

The thought horrifies me, making my stomach turn. “Please,” I cry out, my body rocking with the motions as he starts to fuck me again, the strain on my wrists as Joel uses them to help thrust himself inside of me starting to gnaw deeper into them. I’m like a ragdoll with the way he’s jerking me by my wrists, my body having no choice but to flail in time with the movements so that he can press himself deep on each cruel thrust inwards.

“You want more? You beggin’ already?” Joel grunts between his heavy breaths, sounding so cocky it makes me want to spin around and punch him. I settle for gritting my teeth instead, feeling my body slowly but surely melding into his. When Joel presses me down further, forcing an arch in my back, I whimper when his cock hits something sensitive, deep, primal. Fuck, is it something.

“Oh, that’s it. We got her now, don’t we?” he says from above, continuing to stroke his cock along that spot repeatedly. I feel myself losing my will to fight, hating the pleasure but feeling myself lean into it slightly, my hips pressing back to meet his nearly against my will. “You ever come before, sweetheart?” He leans in a little closer to ask the question, the pistoning of his hips slowing the slightest bit.

I refuse to answer, tears pooling in my eyes. I don’t want him to take this from me, I don’t want him to know anything about me. He jerks my wrists at the same time he slams his hips into me, and I whimper loudly, feeling the way he’s surely bruising my insides.

“If you ain’t figured it out yet, the rules are that you answer me when I’m askin’ you a question if you know what’s good for ya,” he spits out, and I shake my head, letting it hang limply.

“Use your words. Say ‘no, daddy’,” he says with sinister condescension, stroking his own ego.

“N-no… daddy…” I say, my tongue revolting against the words, bile climbing up my throat.

He moves his hand to my head, stroking carefully and softly. “Oh, that’s a shame. That’s a daaaamn shame. All pent up, y’are. But daddy will make it all better.” He sounds deranged, sick, like he truly believes that I’m thankful to him for what he’s doing to me. I can’t answer, my mouth gaping open just as he releases my wrists, letting me fall to the couch with a thud. My open mouth gets a mouthful of the cushions, making me sick over the fact that it’s probably full of god knows what due to its age and whatever things Joel seems to get up to in this apartment of his.

I blink as Joel grips tightly at my hips, wondering why he suddenly trusts my hands to be free, when it happens. He thrusts into that spot again, harsh and unforgiving, and I nearly see stars behind my eyes as the head of his cock punches against things I didn’t even know were there. That’s why. I’m incapacitated at this angle, brutally forced to enjoy the pleasure washing over my body as Joel takes from me, actually giving in return this time.

I bite my tongue hard, not wanting to give him any satisfaction for the tiny moans that are growing louder in my throat, desperate to be let out.

“Let me hear you, princess. Daddy doesn’t do with quiet girls. I can feel you clampin’ down on my cock, know you’re lovin’ how I use you up like you were meant for it.”

I shake my head in protest, but a strangled sound escapes past my tight lips when Joel slams into me harder than he has yet, puffing hard as he fucks me like a greedy animal. He chuckles through heavy breaths, little whispers of that’s it, come on, take it, flow freely from his nasty mouth.

I feel myself slip away, further gone from reality as the warmth spreads from my pelvis into my belly, coiling tight. Everything tingles, set on fire, the spot where Joel handles my hips with his fat fingers practically burning with a constant mix of pleasure and pain. I cry out when Joel’s cock pulls that feeling out from deep inside of me again, half a sob and half a moan as it crescendos, waves of pleasure crashing over me.

Joel’s grunts of approval, so brutish and debauched, sends a new wave of arousal through me. I tremble, eyes squeezed shut with my body completely out of my control, taken over by this boundless bliss. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before: heavenly warmth worlds above any of the pleasures I’ve known. This had to be what Joel was referring to, urging me towards, telling me he wanted to make me come. This had to be what I was missing out on all these years, hiding myself away. Was this the reason sex was so coveted, so sought after? Was this feeling… the reason he’s doing what he is to me right now?

It feels like it’s never ending, my body so rigid as it spasms yet pliant as he fucks into me harder and harder. I loathe the noises I’m making that intermingle with his as I squeeze my eyes shut, enjoying it.

“Fuck, fuck - that’s it - f-fuck knew you’d love it. Come on my cock, baby, that’s right.” Joel’s string of praises reach my ears as I come down from my high, limp and yielding to whatever it is he wants to do to me now. I have no fight - my bones turned to jelly, my body sore all over, my throat scratchy from the way he’d assaulted it earlier. I only have it in me to give the rest of myself over, whether I like it or not.

“S-so fuckin’ tight, lettin’ me take your virginity like a good little whore,” he punches out, pounding into my sensitive cunt like it’s saving his soul, like it’s the only thing he could ever care about. I’m on the precipice of coming again, my nerves still frayed and on edge from the last one. A smaller but still powerful climax takes over, my body shuddering and tight, milking every last second of the pleasure.

“Gonna blow my load into this pure little pussy, make it mine - fuck - gonna fill you up like the cocksleeve you are. P-probably never want to be without my fuckin’ load drippin’ out of you again. I-I’m close, fuck -” Joel rambles as he ruts his hips deep, one final thrust and a grunt, and I feel him stall, pulsing into me.

It’s all suddenly very still, an eerie quiet settling over the room. My entire body burns hot, the only thing keeping me from collapsing is Joel’s hands still anchored on my hips as he leaves his cock inside of me, plugging me up. I want to cry again at the sudden, overwhelming shame I feel, but I can’t give him the satisfaction. I can’t.

Joel pats my ass a few times, pulling out. I tremble hard, falling forward onto the couch without his hold, instantly curling in on myself. I resent the way I’d noticed how empty I felt the second he was gone, how cold my body was without his warmth pressed into it. I dare to peer up at the sick man who stands above me, catching his breath, watching just as the last bit of his softening cock gets tucked back into his jeans. He swipes a hand across his forehead, gathering sweat, staring down at me with a darkened expression, grinning cockily.

When he plops down on the couch next to me, picking up the can of beans he’d been eating before, my mouth hangs open in surprise at how casual he’s acting. I watch his face shine with sweat, his breathing still labored, but everything else about his attitude would indicate he didn’t just force himself on me.

I try to keep my expression neutral for my own safety as I feel something leak out of me, not even wanting to give him the smug satisfaction of having to confirm my suspicions about what it is. I do my best to position my body so he can’t see between my legs as I try to pull my underwear up from where they sit near my knees, my jeans following. Joel only gives me a knowing glance as he takes a bite, conscious of the fact that a part of him sits inside my now soiled underwear, and a part of me now sits inside of his soul.

He shoves the can my way and I shrink back at his sudden motion, not taking it from him. “Eat. I ain’t havin’ you all weak and despondent for the next time.”

I feel my heart sink down past my ass, my stomach plummeting along with it as nausea overtakes me, a dizzying sensation clouding my vision. He couldn’t have said what I think he did. I - I’d paid my debt, whatever it was he thought I owed him for saving me when I didn’t even ask him to. For saving me and then doing exactly what that man had planned to do anyways under the guise of a caring, noble rescuer.

“N-next time…?” I manage to make my mouth move, my throat to produce a sound, pushing the question out in a voice that doesn’t sound like my own.

“Know you said not to call you stupid but my house, my rules, an’ sweetheart…” He looks at me under his raised, expectant brows. “My stupid, stupid girl. Did you really think that would be enough? That I’d get an opportunity every man dreams of - an untouched, perfect pussy like yours, to keep all for m’self, and throw it all away?” He’s creeping closer as he speaks, shrouding me on the couch with his huge frame, caging in where I lay, my body wound as tightly as it can to itself to block whatever he’s thinking of doing next. “Now you don’t think daddy is that dumb to let you go knowin’ all that, do you?”

I sit stunned silent underneath him, wide eyes fixed in a tortured gaze on his rugged face, but his hand squeezing my thigh is warning enough for me to shake my head, stuttering out an answer. “N-no. No…” I whisper.

Two approving pats on my cheek send Joel slinking back slightly, his dark, unhinged eyes staring holes into me as they roam over my body. Despite nothing even visible - my chest hidden underneath my arms and legs clamped tightly - I feel violated, objectified.

Terror rips through my chest as reality settles in slowly but surely. I look at the man I’d trusted once, who’d shown himself to be a friend, or at the least an ally, currently feasting his eyes on me like I’m a product. Which now, I suppose I am. A whore. His whore.

“Now,” he says, licking his lips, that hungry gaze already returning, a bulge appearing in his jeans and stretching the fabric. “All I’ve got to do is decide just how long I’ll keep ya for.”

dividers by @/saradika-graphics!

#fic: indebted #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #dark!joel miller fanfiction #dark!joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #x reader #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #dddne joel miller #dead dove joel miller

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marvelfanfics1 · 1 day ago

Note

Rafe, Sofia and reader but Rafe still learns Sofia made a deal with Groff they broke up but reader getting caught in the middle of it and not understanding what’s going on

You giggle as you watch Bluey on the tv, patiently waiting for Sofia who's making you a snack in the kitchen when she hears her phone ring, rounding the counter to grab her phone from the table and answers at seeing that it's Rafe.

"Hey, babe. What up?" She says and Rafe instantly gets to the point.

"Is it true?" He asks, his tone firm. "Is it true what Groff just told me? Is it?"

Sofia stays silent, not knowing how to respond but that alone was confirmation enough for him, scrunching his nose and nodding.

"A'ight, pack your shit. Get out of my house. God, after everything me and Y/n did for you." He says, the anger and overall betrayal he's feeling evident in his voice. "We're done. Done. I don't care if you tell her or not because I will do it either way, so don't even bother of sweet talking to her."

The line goes dead and she lowers her phone, tears brimming in her eyes that she tries to push back as she walks past you, making her way upstairs.

You knit your brows confused, getting up and following after her curiously. As you reach the bedroom your eyes widen when you catch Sofia packing a bag, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"Mama? Wha' You doin'?" You question softly.

"I...I did something horrible. Rafe...he'll explain everything to you." She says, continuing to empty the drawers that held her clothes and you walk over to her.

"Mama stop. You're scarin' me..." You mumble, grabbing her wrists to stop her. "I don' understand..."

"I did something you both will never forgive me. I have to leave, I'm- I'm sorry." She sighs, freeing herself from your grip to place the last things in her bag, turning back to meet your now saddened gaze.

"Pwease." You plead, tearing up as well. "Don' go. I forgive you! Jus' don' go..."

Sofia smiles sadly at your determination, her heart breaking at how you don't hesitate to forgive her even though you don't even know what happened, that she betrayed you and Rafe by accepting the money from Hollis and persuading Rafe into making that deal that now cost him 400k.

"I'm sorry...for everything." She says, slinging the back over her shoulder she walks out of the room with you trailing behind her.

You watch helplessly as she puts on her shoes, placing the house keys she got from Rafe before he went to Morocco onto the counter near the entrance before opening the front door, glancing at you one last time.

Without another word she closes the door and you're left crying, not understanding what's going on when your phone rings, answering it while sobbing.

"Baby? It's me." Rafe starts speaking and you sob harder. "Shh, calm down first."

"I- I- mama jus-" You hiccup, clutching your stomach.

"I know, I know. You gotta calm down, yeah? Deep breaths." He instructs, doing exasperated breaths through the phone for you to mimic.

Slowly but surely your heavy sobs subsided to sniffles and small coughs.

"There we go...just like that. Better?" He asks and you shake your head even though he couldn't see.

"Mama s'gone. I- I wanted to stop her b-but she didn' listen." You cry, sliding down a nearby wall. "Daddy..."

"Ma- Sofia did something bad, kid...I don't want to tell you over the phone but I promise I'll tell you everything when I'm back, okay?" He says, running a hand over his head at hearing your broken sniffles, wanting nothing more but to cradle you in his arms right now, his heart aching. "Baby?"

"Come back now..." You whimper, having no one to run to while being this sad right now. "Pwease daddy..."

"I wish I could. I really do." He sighs. "I'm almost done here and will be back as soon as I can, I swear. I'll send Topper to check on you later, a'ight?"

"O-Otay..." You sniffle, pulling your knees to your chest and drawing shapes on your knees. "I-I lub you."

"I love you too, kid. Daddy will be home soon." He promises before the line goes dead. "Baby? Hello?" Rafe looks at the phone, cursing when it wouldn't turn back on, the battery probably empty.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

#little!reader #daddy!rafe x little!reader x mama!sofia thoughts #daddy!rafe x little!reader x mama!sofia drabble

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ghostieblr · 2 days ago

Text

he knows

When people ask him what changed his mind, why he's back in Beacon Hills instead of at the fancy FBI job he earned through merit and luck, he just smiles and laughs it up. Insists this is how it just worked out. That the job was good, and being in the field was surprisingly easy for him, but the remote research work landed on his lap once and he realized he'd much rather do that. Working the field was great, but being able to actually spend time with his old man gives him more joy.

The old ladies call him a good man, tell him he's such a good son, and share their own turmoils with him. The old men sneer at his choice until he lets slip just how much he makes, and then they're singing praises, too.

After a couple of weeks, the noise dies down. He is no longer the novelty, the townspeople ready to move on to the next new, shiny thing that catches their attention.

What doesn't die down is whatever is spreading inside him. The burn under his skin is licking up towards his heart, coming out through his pores, charring him to immobility as the sun dips down and comes back up.

After week three, he's unable to move from the bed, and none of their research is bringing about any clues. No one knows why this is happening to him, and they have all accepted this.

That he is going to die. There's no coming back, no cure for this sudden illness that has taken him. None of the books that Deaton provides, that Lydia translates and pours her time into, have a single clue.

It's not as painful, if he's honest. Not now. It was at the beginning, the heat sudden and startling, the pain that comes with it bright and unending. But he's been with it for a while now, gotten used to the constant warmth. A false sense of security.

The only thing left for him is to stop feeling altogether. At the rate his body is shutting down, it's not too far, now. Another day or two, maybe three if he's unlucky.

He's said his goodbyes. Told his father to keep on living, to not only honor the memory of mom, but his, too. There's grief laced in each of their interactions, each word spoken with a weight that brings tears to Stiles' eyes and a tremble that rocks his father's body. It's an ugly sight, and it so happens to be his last. Nearly his last.

His dad's a strong man, he'll survive. He's enlisted the help of Lydia to do so. Asked her to be the child he'll not get to be for him. Through teary eyes she had agreed, and he's watched the two of them get closer in their quest of trying to heal him, and then grieve him. She's like the daughter he never had, and she is good for him. Stops him from drinking alcohol and makes him healthy food, even when he refuses to listen, and Stiles can do nothing but lay on his bed as the voices float up from the kitchen.

Scott and him never did resolve their differences. Scott's been a part of his life enough to warrant him a last goodbye, and despite everything that has happened, Scott promised to him to be there for his dad. He promised many things, but has delivered none, and has only been by to see him on day one — when Stiles had allowed Lydia to bring in the McCall Pack to help him cure himself.

It's as if Stiles being dead was an accepted outcome for him, and Scott has grieved him to the point of utter indifference since. If he's grieving in silence that's another thing, but for now, Stiles isn't dead. People do come in and see him.

Lydia, of course. His dad. Jackson flew from London to come see him, and he hasn't left since, feet set like stone in Beacon Hills, despite the final acceptance of their failure. Isaac came with Jackson, and it's so silly, he thinks, that being on the verge of death can bring together people you would never see in one place by choice.

Kira has stopped by multiple times, as have Malia, Liam, Mason, Jordan, and surprisingly, Hayden. She insisted he's a hero, and cried while hugging him.

Scott hasn't come again. And, honestly, it's not as bothersome to Stiles as someone else not coming in to see him.

Cora has face-timed him, and Peter was there, he knows. The two of them were there, and when he'd asked about Derek, Cora had snapped out, "He's an idiot," while Peter had calmly told Stiles, "He's determined."

Stiles is smart enough to put together the fact that Derek has been pursuing his own leads to find the cure, but he'd hoped that once the finality of his situation reached him, he'd see Derek one last time.

He wouldn't burden Derek with the knowledge of his own feelings. Wouldn't confess like in the fairytales, and hope for a true love's miracle. Stiles is honest to himself these days, and he'd rather go with unconfessed feelings than burden Derek, because somewhere in their interactions, Stiles has developed a pure hatred for anything that could even remotely hurt Derek.

He supposes this is love, and how ironic is it, that this is the most intense feeling he's ever had, and he can't even speak aloud about it?

So he lounges in his bed, waiting for the light to take him. Each time he closes his eyes he knows he's closer to never opening them again, and tonight, as he hears Lydia turn the pages of a book, and Jackson walking outside in the hallway, and his dad sobbing in his own room, and Isaac cooking, he just wishes tonight's the night. He cannot have the people he care about clinging onto false hope.

He closes his eyes, and behind his eyelids, he sees his family. He sees his mom, beckoning him; his parents, smiling, as he runs towards them for a family hug; Lydia, when she told him she loves him in the Jeep, and the night when he came back, declaring that he's not supposed to leave her, ever; Jackson and Isaac laughing at his expense, but not in a mean way, instead enjoying each other's company like the friends they've become these days; Derek, as the last time Stiles saw him, smiling softly at him while he rambled on about the way he convinced the FBI to let him join the mission that saved Derek's ass.

He remembers, with immense clarity, the moment he realized he's in love with Derek. The heartbreak of saying goodbye to him, of watching his brows furrow at the clear lie of, "You should go," and hesitant step forward he'd taken before realizing it.

He'd said, "You should go or Cora will leave," and left the, "I want her to," unsaid.

He sleeps, and wishes to dream about a world where Derek didn't leave and things happened differently. Where somehow, they found their way to each other, and Stiles never got ill like this.

Instead, he dreams about a purple light guiding him to a tunnel that simply looks white, like that is all there is.

He follows.

He doesn't wake up, again.

At least, that's what he thinks — until his eyes open and he's face-to-face with —

"Derek?"

The whole place is white. The only splash of color exists on Stiles himself, his clothes rumpled with sleep, and on Derek, whose jeweled eyes are shimmering with unshed tears and sparkling joy.

"Derek, what the hell did you do?!"

Derek doesn't deem that a question worthy of replying. Instead the werewolf picks him up and hugs him so tight Stiles worries about not being able to breathe, and then realizes, with a startling clarity, that he is not in pain.

Still in embrace, he asks, a little choked up, "Why am I not in pain?"

Derek takes an exaggerated sniff before reluctantly pulling back and fixing him with a look that screams of resplendent joy, but also like he's waiting for a reprimand. He says, "This is Bardo."

Stiles stills. "Bardo," he repeats. He's dived into enough books to hear what Derek is leaving unsaid. Bardo is where spirits go after dying. It's an in-between space for spirits with unfinished business, one that opens only on a land with a Nemeton on it. Beacon Hills fits the criteria for it, and Stiles the criteria for having wishes he didn't get in his life, but he doesn't... He doesn't fit the other criteria. "Derek Nobody Will Tell Me What Your Middle Name Is Hale, that place — which apparently is this place, what the hell — is for supernatural spirits. Me?" He laughs, humorless and frantic. "I am not a supernatural creature. I'm just a human who used to run with a Pack."

Derek's worry melts away into nothing, as if Stiles would miss the fact that for Derek to be here, he has to be dead.

"Don't think I don't understand that you're dead, too! Deliberately!"

There. That is the face of a chastised puppy. "But it worked?" Stiles squints his eyes and motions for Derek to go on, who sighs but complies with the command. "The illness that took you was a Supernatural fever, last recorded with a Spark centuries ago. I tracked down the journal —"

"Wait, hold on, Spark? Where have I heard that word..." The Vet clinic, years ago. The Kanima in the club. The mountain ash line that never should have formed because there was much too less of it to complete the circle. As the realization hits, he closes his eyes and rests his fists against them. He isn't ashamed to let out a scream of rage as well.

When he lets his arms fall back down to his side, Derek takes one of them and starts rubbing comforting circles on the back of his hand. "You are one," he says softly, like he's trying not to spook Stiles with the declaration. Like Stiles' world didn't just shift irrevocably as he put the pieces together. "I don't really understand why your powers never unlocked, because traditionally speaking they should have kicked in your teen years. With the added clusterfuck of those years they definitely should have. They did not."

Again, he laughs humorlessly, and gives Derek a "duh" look. "Our lives have rarely dared to be traditional." He thinks back to all the awful things that have happened over the years to him, but mostly, as Derek put it, in those years. The Nogitsune was definitely the worst thing to happen to him, and holy shit. "Do you think it chose me because of my power? Rather than her?"

Derek doesn't answer for a moment. Then he says, "I think that is why you survived. Because of your Spark."

Oh. That... makes sense. Sort of. But that is the past, and they're in the present, and they're in fucking Bardo of all places. "Derek, I think I really need an explanation. Like right now. Including why you thought killing yourself was the best fucking idea."

Derek winces, but he also looks determined once Stiles' glare eases off of him. And they're still holding hands, which he realizes with a warmth he actually enjoys feeling. "When I got the call, I had an inkling... So I followed my instincts and ended up at probably our oldest vault."

"You knew what I am." He doesn't even feel angry. Somehow, Derek knowing a thing about him that nobody else does (and he is not counting Deaton as a factor here at all, that cryptic asshole), it feels nice.

Derek uses his free hand to tap at his chest, once, twice. "Instincts," he says, with the same effect as saying, "Werewolf," like he once used to, as if that was the answer to everything. "This illness confirmed it for me. I found a journal at the vault that belonged to that Spark, and in it, he detailed how the illness felt, how it spread, and how within weeks he could do nothing but lay on his cot." Derek swallows, his voice turning rough with choked up emotions. "Stiles, just reading it was so awful. I can't imagine..."

Derek Hale doesn't cry. He feels deeply, and he cares even deeper, but he doesn't cry, not in front of people.

But Stiles is not most people, and he is aware enough to know that he is, for some reason, one of the people who is most important to Derek. So as Derek breaks down at the idea of Stiles' suffering, Stiles reaches forward and brings his arms around Derek.

"I'm here," he assures, over and over again, until the words are stronger than Derek's shaking. "I'm right here," he says one last time, and stays close to the man he loves most for an indeterminate amount of time, silently not-breathing together.

Stiles breaks the silence with, "I love you, you know?" He had promised to not say it to Derek. To not burden him. But here they are, in Bardo. Together. A Pack of two who would do all that is possible and all that is not to protect the other. Derek deserves to know he is loved.

The way Derek's arms tighten around him says he doesn't know. And when Derek pulls back, just a little to stare at Stiles like this is unbelievable, Stiles pulls him back in by grabbing his hands and putting one on his chest, the other on his face. He kisses the inner palm of the latter, and smiles brightly. "Never thought I'd say it. Especially once I was on my deathbed. Still hate that you chose to die with me, but I'm hoping you have a plan, and you deserve to know. You're amazing and I love you, Derek Hale."

The smile he gets is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, and Derek presses forward until their foreheads are resting against each other's. "Samuel," he says.

"Derek Samuel Hale? Samuel like Sam and Dean's grandpa?"

Derek does a snort-chortle thing, then says in the small space between them, "Shut up, Stiles."

"Shutting up."

The silence stretches, and they stay together, seizing the moment. Who knew Bardo could be peaceful? Except...

"Our escape plan? See, I'd love to explore you biblically anywhere and everywhere, but I would much rather do it on —"

"Stiles."

Derek's look of scandalized horror makes Stiles laugh until he's being hauled off in his strong, muscled arms like a sack of potatoes and starts walking. "I don't know why I love you too."

"This is just sexy. I don't think you know what you're doing to me."

"I can still smell your arousal, Stiles. I know."

"You know loads of things. What else do you know?" He says it in a simpering, sexy voice, and then giggles as Derek stumbles a step before balancing himself.

"I know how to escape. We need a bed, yes? So stop distracting me and let me do my thing."

Stiles is just glad he is already in Derek's arms, because otherwise he would have swooned and fallen into them.

The escape plan is easy and a let down, if he's being completely honest. What they need are:

A Spark's Belief ✅️

An Alpha's Roar ✅️ (When did Derek become an Alpha again?)

An Anchor on The Other Side ✅️ (Peter)

An Incantation That Derek Has Memorized ✅️

To Stand Where The Veil is Thinnest ✅️ (Derek's instincts strike yet again)

All in all, it is very anti-climactic, and very dirty as they end up materializing in a clearing near the Nemeton which is muddy. Peter looks one look at them and says, "Finally."

Stiles isn't sure if he meant it for them coming back or for Stiles and Derek finally confessing to each other. Either way, Peter hands them clean clothes and agrees to drive them back to Stiles' house, where apparently everyone is in a panic because "Stiles dissappeared."

"It's only been like, an hour or something," Stiles says, confused, as he changes into the clean t-shirt while Peter faces the other way and Derek stares, unabashed, much to Peter's verbal disgust.

Peter takes a break from chastising his nephew to say, "It's been 72 hours."

Huh.

"We should get going then," he says, and Peter sighs.

"If only you could ask my dear nephew to rein in his urges."

Stiles throws Derek a glare, who rolls his eyes but obliges. However the glare the turns into an appreciative look over Derek's abs, and Peter throws up his hands.

Acclimating to having magic is easy when he already has an anchor. Derek's presence is both wanted and needed, and despite Scott's insistence that another Alpha cannot stay in town, Derek stays as long as Stiles does.

Two weeks pass before Stiles calls back his boss and lets her know that he's now alright, and then he's promptly being shipped off to another state for a case. Everyone has already congratulated him on both being alive and doing something about his pining, so they throw a simple dinner on his last night in town and Stiles watches, with amusement and fondness, as all the people in his heart mingle with easy conversations and banter.

Peter chooses to stay in town to reconnect with Malia in person, while Cora deems it better to go back to her Pack in South America. Lydia and Jackson leave together for London, but Isaac decides to stay back.

When Stiles asks him why, he says, "Liam needs a good mentor. His control is weak. I can help him, plus, Derek needs a pack."

Stiles raises an eyebrow. "Liam is Scott's beta," he says.

"None of them have a pack bond," Isaac fire backs, and oh.

Derek must have heard the conversation, too, because he comes over and claps Isaac on the back, proud and all smiley, and Stiles can't help but lean in to kiss it. To taste the constant joy off of Derek's face, to give him his own in return. The action is met with Derek's soft moan and a ring of disgusted groaning from the others, including his dad's.

Stiles laughs after he pulls back, and looks around at the lot of them. There's tragedy woven into all of their lives, but there's also happiness.

Who knew getting ill would lead to this? To re-founding a family?

Maybe Derek knew, the bastard. Loveable bastard, though.

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #sterek fics #teen wolf #sh.writesonmain #*sterek fic recs #my laptop still isn't fixed so for now this is gonna stay on tumblr only #i'll put this on ao3 later

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girlwithadragonheart · 1 day ago

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I need to yap desperately about one single gripe I have with this game. MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD read at your own discretion

The first half is me ranting about how much certain things mean to me and how impacted I was, and the actual gripe comes closer to the end.

I'll preface this by saying this post is about Varric's death and my rage and despair regarding it, but more so about my Rook's.

I've seen people who said they picked up on the hints about whatnot, who knew before the Fade Prison. I was not one of those people. I was so relieved when I saw him after the Prologue that I didn't think twice, because I knew that it would destroy me the second shit started going wrong.

I was already not having a good time when I started the game simply because Varric was getting older. I don't handle aging well or death, and his design showing his age, and the comments he would make about "getting too old for this" just made my heart break.

And then shit got worse. I sobbed disgustingly when that knife went into Varric's chest.

After Rook woke up from talking to Solas and she heard Varric, I was so gods damned relieved. And my Rook was better taken care of by Varric in that year she spent with him than she was in the rest of her entire life.

I cried from the end of Ghilan'nain's fight until the romance scene and on and off after that. I got so used to visiting Varric just to be comforted by his presence. Inquisition was the biggest part of my life for a year and a half when I was just a kid.

I did really bad middle school age writing for it but regardless of the quality, those characters were built up in my head becoming even more than they were in the game. Varric was my biggest support character through everything I was going through at the time.

I don't talk about it much, but I didn't have a great childhood, and I know a lot of people didn't, but I coped with it through writing and video games. Varric was the one supporting me through the abuse I suffered and writing was the way I processed how bad things really were.

When Rook was in the prison she said "What am I going to find here?" And Varric said "I think you already know, kid." I DIDN'T until he said that. The second he said that my entire chest tightened and I just said "No" out loud as I watched Rook find his body.

Now for my real complaint!!!

Rook never gets the chance to grieve Varric. They go from talking to him every day to finding out he's dead and it was all a lie. I have personally never been more fucking pissed at Solas than I am now. But Rook comes back and they have that kind of "closing off" scene with Varric's empty bed (which was so hard to go through btw). And then they fuck their pookie LIKE I CANNOT BE THE ONLY ONE UPSET ABT THAT

FYM I gotta find out my dad is dead and then Rook is up for boning like there's no fucking way unless it's to cope. And at least pertaining to the Lucanis romance, Rook is processing everything that happened and they can say "So much has happened, I just don't know how to feel."

And rather than getting to process that in some kind of way, the devs said nah this scene serves one singular purpose, and Lucanis says "I do" and then dicks them down.

Personally, I felt very dismissed despite being overjoyed about finally having the romance scene, I couldn't even enjoy it with everything that happened prior.

Rook deserved the chance to completely break down after everything they went through. Tbh i don't know how they kept it together. Varric said "don't get all misty eyed" and i thought to myself that's way too delicate a term for what's happening here, I was fully ugly crying.

Fuck your "I had a good run" I still need you bitch.

All this to say I'm very upset, and I'm running my second playthrough and every time I look at, hear, or talk to Varric I tear up again. Wtf Bioware.

Rook should've gotten the chance to actually talk about what Solas did to them, especially in the sense that he made them believe Varric was still there. Or at least get to properly grieve the person who was their closest friend for a long time.

I have very strong feelings about this obviously

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loveanddeepspice · 1 day ago

Text

𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖

✞ synopsis: you've come back to the small town you grew up in for a visit. though your relationship with the catholic church and faith in general have been strained since you were younger, you find yourself drawn back to the church... or more specifically... the new priest... you aren't ready to share your secret sin with him... but you may not be able to help yourself.

✞ pairing: sylus x curvy fem!reader

✞ rating: 18+ (minors do not engage)

✞ cw: religion (catholicism), priest, lapsed faith, adultery, priest kink, suicidal mention, dead parent, sex, masturbation, drugs (marijuana), mentions of other drug use, drinking (more will be added when/if they arise)

✞ disclaimer: this fiction explores a romantic relationship between a lapsed Catholic and an unconventional priest. it is not designed to be inflammatory or critical. catholic authors were asked to participate in the process. we hope you enjoy it, but we know that these topics can be sensitive, so please skip this fiction if it will in any way offend you.

✞ chapter: 6 / ?

✞ co-authors: redbriony, confuseddoughnut (they do not have tumblr)

✞ ao3 link: here

✞ chapter synopsis: "the only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it." - oscar wilde

Please comment on this post if you want to be added to the tag list for updates!

Despite what happened, you would have done anything to face Father Sylus again.

He was the type of person who radiated energy from within, dedication unlike anyone you had ever met - which could be a good or a bad thing. The thoughts became an obsession, all that seemed to fill your brain. The recollection of his touch made you sweat. It was the last thing you thought about before drifting off to sleep, the first thing you thought about when you woke, and the next few days stretched. One thing was sure: you longed to see him again, if only for the courage to apologize. But did you even have to apologize? He was the one who had kissed you first, right? It was so unbelievably confusing. You’d talk yourself through circles; for once, no amount of sleeping seemed to help. You weren’t even given the option to sleep it all off anyway or mellow properly in your self-pity. Upon learning of your ‘arrest’ from Talia, your father forced you out of the house that Sunday to go to church with him. “What’s going on with you, Y/N?” Dad raised his eyebrows and frowned as he gripped the steering wheel, and you could tell he was trying hard not to get angry or frustrated. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, hon. You came back, and you’re acting weird. Can you just tell me what’s wrong?” Shaking your head, you shrugged, trying your hardest to maintain eye contact on the door handle, ignoring your dad’s question and wishing he’d just leave you alone. “You went from being happy to totally distraught since you moved out. What am I supposed to think here, huh?” ‘Maybe everything went to total fucking shit,’ was what you wanted to say, and tried not to roll your eyes. Dad tried so hard to not act like the authoritarian or pushy father, especially after your mother had died. He was never like that. And it was because of that you figured it was time to be at least a little truthful. “I quit my job. I don’t know what I’m going to do from here, but -” you said, “I just…needed some time to think things through.” Your dad parked the car and turned to offer you a subtle smile. You were convincing enough, obviously. “Okay, fine. Work in the store until you figure it out. It’ll be like old times.” One hand gripped the steering wheel as he looked at you, almost seeming to peer into your brain as his eyes flicked ever so slightly. “So, uh, is this about your mom? I didn’t know you were still upset about that. I should’ve tried to talk to you more.” You bit down your reply, feeling a bitter taste in the back of your throat, and willing it away. “No, it isn’t. Just forget about it.” A long sigh filled the small space as your father pressed his lips together. “Christ, I can’t be mad at you right now. I’ve always let you do what you want.” This was strange, a particular ache settling inside and spreading to your limbs like an infection. Maybe it wouldn’t stop now that it had started. And the first instinct was to get away and run. Run and run and just get away. “Hon, Y/N,” Your Dad’s voice was pleading, and you nearly missed it. “We can go talk to -” “No!” You blurted, immediately regretting it, mortified at just the thought. How did you speak so fast? “No, it’s fine. Let’s just go inside. We’re gonna be late.”

You didn’t feel any better inside the church, but you weren’t expecting much to begin with. All you could do was suck it up and seat yourself beside your dad. It wasn’t crowded, but there were a few unfamiliar faces, so maybe not everyone would notice your fucked up mood.

Everything felt surreal. You were sitting there in church with the sun streaming through the stained glass windows, and your gaze landed on the one depicting the Virgin Mary.

The word ethereal came to mind.

Everything seemed like it would evaporate into thin air. Like if you moved too quickly, you’d wake up from one of those dreams that just turned out to be inside of another dream.

And when a hush fell over the congregation, you had no choice but to look forward. No matter how your brain fizzes or your fingers tingle. You were forced to look at that handsome face in front of the church and feel the emotion well inside you. Something that felt different than embarrassment or frustration.

Even from this distance, Father Sylus exudes that particular aura, daring to fill the whole church with its strength. You are once again reminded of how inescapable his presence is—not through belief or goodness, but something, someone who felt unearthly, even celestial, as absurd as it felt.

Ethereal. Once again, with that pretty word. How could you even begin to explain it? It was so easy to feel some sort of bitterness, perhaps even selfishness. Who could blame you? Everything always seemed too simple when you looked at it from a distance.

“Good morning,” He began, his voice taking on that strangely powerful, lilting cadence. He paused, hands clasping, and his posture was different. Shoulders broad, spine straight, chin lifted slightly. “I want to take a moment before we begin to discuss why we’re here.”

You were drawn to his words, which had formed an invisible link to you. Maybe if you closed your eyes like you did at night, you could picture that night in the car. It felt foolish because you were certain your own thoughts were desperate. How stupid did it make you seem, trying to replay the sensation? A stupid crush. That is all you wanted it to amount to, even if looking into his fiery gaze had made you feel like you were melting.

“We’re here, in the house of the Lord. Why is this?”

If a month’s insistence on chasing after a flame could be compared to anything -

“Free will.” His tone picked up. “Through our actions, we make conscious decisions. As far as humankind is concerned, free will also makes us human.”

Your breathing stilled. Something terrible seized your gut, a cramping feeling causing you to grit your teeth.

“This is a sanctified place,” he continued, voice rich and filled with energy. “Within these walls, you should experience peace. Not conflict or anger. All are free here because it is with our actions that we build ourselves.”

How the hell did he manage this? The words continued spilling from his mouth, something pulling you further. And after a pause, his gaze filtered over the room again - and landed on you.

Time was beginning to stand still, and you swore your face began to heat up. But, thankfully, the look didn’t linger on you, moving on as he cleared his throat.

Well, fuck.

There was only a tiny shift in expression, and perhaps you were the only one to notice how his pause seemed more lengthy than those before it.

"We - uh.” Father Sylus made a show of glancing down at the notes before him and shuffling a few pages. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat again, a little louder this time. “What I mean to say is, with free will, we struggle against our urges and temptations. Sin beckons - uh,” another loud cough. He looked nervous. Vulnerable. In more ways than one.

Father Sylus hastily pushed aside the pages, shoulders lifting in a deep breath before looking again at the people gathered. He straightened a little, and his powerful tone returned as he folded his hands neatly. “So, how do we resist? It can be hard to…admit one’s faults.” He let out a little huff of air, glancing down again. Then, he stepped away from the podium, stepping along the carpeted dais, hands clasped behind his back and thumbs tapping against each other.

The congregation started shifting. A glance here and there, unable to guess what he would say next. Probably wondering why their priest was acting so…off. If you weren’t glued to your seat in, well, any number of the emotions you were feeling now - you would have high-tailed it out of there already. But instead, you were frozen in place, feeling like an outsider, feeling the shift in the air more than the others around you.

“Take those feelings and multiply them by ten.” He stated, looking towards the back of the church at nothing in particular. It was as if he was somewhere only his mind knew.

“Opportunity is often just an invitation to sin, yes. Free will is a man’s greatest power but also his biggest weakness. With that power comes responsibility. Satan doesn’t come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns in the middle of the night.”

Oh God.

There was a tense pause and stillness, and you wonder how you managed to sit here and listen. Those crimson eyes trailed around the room, but for another second, a brief and terrifying second, they burned into you.

“Satan comes as everything you’ve ever wished for.” He laughed, bitter and slightly hoarse. Then his eyes snapped forward again, unabashed.

He coughed, cleared his throat again, and gestured with a finger above his head. “We all - well, we all think we can overcome any challenge. Big or small. Big and small.” Father Sylus let out a shaky exhale. “Um, the point is...The point is that the devil is ready to collect when you can’t. So, the point is that - uh,” His tone shifted to something smaller that made your insides tremble agonizingly. A breathless, tight sort of anxiousness that stole through your lungs and caused your heart rate to increase. It was impossible to deny that despite the words coming out of his mouth, you actually wanted to hear him continue. “Um, sometimes I think the hardest thing is that we are human, and we are weak.”

Before he could even continue, his voice cracked. “I’m sorry.” He swallowed, grimacing, an anguish that you recognized. “Excuse me.” He looked like he might break, the wavering tension almost stifling the room, his expression almost tormented.

“I’m sorry. Excuse me.” And with that, he disappeared into the back, leaving everyone shocked.

Everyone except for you.

“And that’s why I’m never going to church again.” You rolled your eyes as you leaned against one of the shelves in your dad’s store, looking over at Rafayel, who was leaning against the counter, making it his personal mission to get every last drop out of an iced coffee. “You should have seen the look on his face. What a fuck up.”

Rafayel wrinkled his nose, looked around the otherwise empty store, and then glanced at his phone. “Yikes. Poor guy.” He sighed and tapped his foot on the floor. “Talia came home and said he had a migraine - but it’s even more hilarious that a near-public breakdown was because of you.”

“My God, you are awful.” You frowned and stepped forward to lightly punch his arm, reaching out and catching his elbow with a grimace as he pretended to almost fall over. “That’s a horrible thing to say! You were the one who was practically encouraging me!”

“I would never,” Rafayel huffed, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. “Anyway, it’s been almost a week now. You’re gonna have to suck it up and face him sooner or later.” With a firm nod, he shook off your hold and dusted his hand on the faded denim of his jeans, turning his attention back to his phone and shaking the ice in the cup he held.

“How would I do that?” You asked.

As if oblivious, Rafayel arched a brow and smiled tightly, peering at you over the edge of his phone. His tone was less-than-reassuring, sounding almost pitying. “No fucking idea.”

You opened your mouth to argue but thought better of it as the shop door opened, just in time for the chilly afternoon to bring in your dad and Xavier. You took a deep breath at the sound of the bell and forced yourself to calm down.

As if on cue, Rafayel pushed himself away from the counter and looked in your direction. “Well, Y/N.” He said, tossing a wink in your direction that made you want to reach out and knock the silly grin off his face. “Good luck.” With that, he turned and walked out of the store with a shake of his head.

Your dad mumbled something under his breath before tossing a wave a little too late and heading into the back of the small building.

Unease had settled in your stomach at your friend's departure. You felt as if you had more to say, ask, or get a general idea of as you stared at the shop's door. You ran a hand over your tired face and sighed.

“Hi,” Xavier gave you a careful, controlled smile as you turned toward his voice. “Need help with anything?”

You tried your best not to fidget or bite your lip. “No, but it’s nice of you to offer.” You shrugged and glanced away briefly. “Why? Got nothing else to do?”

“Uh, I work here?” He blinked as he stepped forward. You could take in his softening facial features now that he was closer. His smile didn’t quite fade as he looked around the quiet shop. “Anyway - I um. I tried to call you last night? About dinner?”

Tilting your head in confusion, you froze. Then, you processed the sentence.

Dinner. Shit.

“Oh! My phone went missing. I’m sure it’ll turn up soon or something. Wasn’t the nicest phone anyways,” you brushed some hair behind your ear. “I still can’t figure out how it disappeared!” You forced a laugh at your lie and shifted uncomfortably.

You’d completely forgotten about agreeing to go out with him. How fucking stupid were you? So caught up in the idea of -

“Well, uh, I didn’t plan much. So it’s okay, we can just do something another night. Right?” Xavier suggested, and you couldn’t tell if he had let it go so quickly or was suspicious about your behavior.

Either way, you smiled, rationalizing with yourself for what felt like the millionth time that spending time with him would be a good thing. Any way to keep your mind distracted. Clearly, he still wanted to go out with you, and you certainly wouldn’t say no. After all, who could blame you for latching on anyone who showed the slightest interest?

This would be a step in the right direction, right? Things would get better. They had to. No matter how weird it felt for you to think so.

“That’s fine. Sorry, my head’s all over the place.”

The worst part of it all was the sudden weight in your stomach, the ache in your chest that was becoming all too tiring. Something pushed you in the complete opposite direction of the young man in front of you, towards what you really wanted, and had no explanation for why you did.

“Y/N?” Xavier spoke again and stepped closer, watching your expression with careful scrutiny, his hand reaching out to touch yours, giving you a new feeling of unease. “Hey, um, - you alright?”

Your heart wrenched a little at the worry, and you wondered exactly how pathetic you appeared. “I think so. Can you take over? I gotta step out for a while.”

It grew colder as you walked along the sidewalk, sticking your hands inside your jacket pockets. Clouds gathered in the distance, inching their way towards the suburb. The air smelled fresher, as if it might snow lightly sometime at night. A breeze swept over the street, stirring pieces of your hair from its confines, and you briefly thought you should have remembered your scarf.

Then, you came to a stop in front of the church.

You looked down at your outfit, the jeans and the oversized blue sweater you had found in your mom's closet, when you couldn’t be bothered to do your own laundry. Perhaps she would give you strength, or at least enough willpower from wherever she was to give you the courage to turn right the fuck around and go back home. She was always straightforward in that way, even without the drinking. If only you had taken after her in that aspect.

For a moment, you almost turned to leave, giving yourself the opportunity to simply walk away and go home. However, after a few seconds of mental debate, you stepped along the worn walkway and up the steps, slipping your hand out of your pocket to place it on the worn wooden door.

Somewhere in your mind was a glimmer of hope, the possibility of resolve.

Now that you had gathered whatever courage you had left, you took one last, bracing breath before pushing the door open. A jolt of energy speared up your arms, a buzzing sensation against your fingertips. Once you were inside, everything felt eerily silent. Almost too silent. But as the familiar warmth enveloped you, your body relaxed slightly as you shrugged off your jacket.

The last light from the day was casting through the windows, and the interior was a muted, golden glow and soft orange. It felt warm in more ways than one. Despite the hushed nature of the building, energy thrummed within you. The atmosphere was inviting, but for some reason, you couldn’t quite muster the ability to step forward any further, feet stuck to the floor beneath you. It was ironic, yet in a way, expected; you felt like crying or throwing something, but maybe punching Father Sylus would give you the most satisfaction.

The chapel seemed alien to you as you made your way further inside.

Loneliness was all-consuming, a fear ever present and threatening in the back of your mind. You wondered why it hurt so much. And, you considered whether you have ever experienced a real connection in your life. You zeroed in on the cross beyond the rows of pews as if you could use it for answers. It glinted a little in the evening light that filtered through the stained glass. Your eyes felt dry as they fixed upon the illuminated wood, searching, listening, walking towards the front of the church like a mouse.

“You think this is funny, don’t you?” You asked your question out loud. The silence of the building taunted you in return, and something constricted within your chest. The rush of it all was consuming, filling your every thought with hope and expectation. A breath sucked in, and you shook your head, blinking. Everything felt off, and you had no idea what your body was supposed to do with itself. “This is so fucked. You know, this is all…just so messed up,” you choked out the whisper and, with a small gasp, swallowed. The emotions swelled. Heavy and pounding and suddenly overwhelming.

Who gave a shit? Nothing would change.

But, maybe -

Would God be willing? Could He lift the spell put on you that would continue to grow?

“Mom is dead, and she’s not coming back.” The words spilled and dropped like shattered glass. “And, uh, it’s just like, that’s fucked up. Isn’t it? Please, it’s - well, I wish I knew, God damn it. Motherfucker!” You swore louder than you should have, not recognizing your own voice. A feeling that had no name gripped your heart. This was it. You were giving up. “Totally fucked up. And you go and make me do stupid shit? What kind of test is that?”

Only silence answered. You wondered how you should feel. As angry as you were, it felt strange to voice it. Finally, saying the words brought unusual comfort, and it was too easy to admit everything now. “Yeah, yeah. You should really apologize, God. Lord. Jesus. Whatever.”

“I’m sorry.” The voice that spoke back did not belong to you. Echoing off the walls and the stained glass, it sent a jolt up your spine, causing you to spin in its direction. Leaning against a doorframe was Father Sylus, looking down at the floor, that shameful expression resurfacing on his face. You witnessed the repentant facade as he lifted his head and looked at you.

It felt like a flood rushed through you, coursing, washing away the anger, seeping into every cell, and filling you with something new. Warm and soft, somehow breaking you apart as it passed. Something indecipherable but true.

Something almost wonderful and exhilarating.

He looked like something you could draw. That raw, exposed sort of aura.

That same warmth enveloped your heart, the comfort expanding across your chest. There was something profound and affectionate within his gaze and the sense that you had underestimated what was truly meant by the phrase ‘care and concern.’

It could have been a few seconds. Or minutes passed as you stood rooted to the spot. The beating of your heart seemed to echo in your ears. Blood pulsed through your veins, the silence around you growing louder.

“For what?” You were almost afraid to speak up.

“For whatever you’re feeling,” Father Sylus stated plainly. Then he straightened, and his look shifted, and for a split second, he stepped forward, only to pause with his fingers twitching at his sides. Maybe there was confusion flickering in his gaze. Or longing. But he still didn’t move from where he stood, as if unable to break the tension he had with himself. After a time, he studied your face and added, “For everything and for nothing.”

After a moment of thought, you shook your head. “That’s vague.”

“It’s all I’ve got.” Father Sylus ran a hand behind his neck, almost nervously, eyes shifting and gaze searching. Another pause lingered between you, and you blinked a few times. He opened and closed his mouth, finally settling on placing both his hands on his hips, inclining his head to look at the stained glass windows. “That…and guilt.”

His admission seemed weighted, and his voice was heavy. You watched him take a step forward, then hesitate.

In that second, there was a great leap in understanding. You understood that he would not look directly at you because it would break this sacred reverence between you and whatever else was going on within his mind.

Maybe it’d always been a game, and perhaps you knew deep down that this would be his next move. The inevitable, silent communication. Slowly, you folded your shaky arms over your chest. The look that flashed in his eyes made you shudder. With a new boldness, you swallowed and whispered: “Why are you telling me this?”

Exhaling hard, you weren’t sure whether to scream, laugh, or cry as you awaited your answer.

He swallowed, his dark gaze teeming like a fire in the low light, the red burning. His lip curled. “Because I feel like you can understand it. Why I feel this way.”

A sick urge, sharp and needy, had you crossing the space between you, the air shaking and trembling as he finally took another stride forward. Your eyes traced over his face. Deep and pained and beautiful. His chest heaved. A strange, bittersweet satisfaction filled you.

“I - I can’t stop thinking about -” you broke off, words quivering as you spoke. “Us. The other night - it keeps going through my head, what I said, and -” your voice was breaking again, the achy, miserable desperation settling in.

You could tell he was holding his breath, hands now clenched into fists, gaze searching and uncertain. “I didn’t mean to deceive you.” The words hung heavy as he stepped closer, finally closing the distance between you, tilting your chin, and forcing you to look at him. The grip held you firmly, though his eyes remained gentle and pleading. “I want nothing more than to pray - beg for your forgiveness. Try and restore whatever trust I’ve betrayed - but in all truth, God, I -”

Another thick swallow, and he paused, the corner of his mouth twisting. He squeezed your chin lightly as if in search of some answer. Then his hand fell to his side, his head turning to look at the cross behind the altar. Something burned beneath your ribs.

“What is it?” You whispered, trembling with the effort of not spilling all your unresolved thoughts. “Tell me - tell me something, anything, or - or -” You stopped yourself, feeling a little pathetic at not being able to formulate the proper words.

“My path was never exactly clear, but,” Father Sylus swallowed thickly, sounding more scared than ever. “Someone I loved when I was younger - she -” A long sigh escaped his lips. “We were each other's firsts and…We loved each other very much.” He exhaled again. His face creased into sadness, reminiscent and haunting. A sharp pain, almost. One that lingered from emotions held within. The truth was there, plain as day, naked, heartbroken, and fragile. “She died when she was eighteen.”

Pain squeezed at you mercilessly, tight and almost bone-crunching. You stepped closer, your brain slowly putting it all together, realization hitting. Then your bottom lip trembles as you reach out, taking hold of his hand and squeezing it. “I’m sorry,” you manage to say after a moment, “that must have been -” Another pause, trying to settle your lungs into a steadier breathing pattern.

He squeezed your hand, looking at you, catching your gaze and holding it, unwavering. “I went to her funeral in a church far bigger than this one with twice the congregation. And later that day, when they put her down into the ground, I listened to the Monsignor pray over her soul.” He looked away again, this time up at the beams in the ceiling. “And I really listened to what he was saying for the first time. And I don’t know why, I just suddenly felt…” He trailed off, and you moved your hand further up his arm, willing him to continue by pressing your fingertips gently into his forearm.

He smiled at the ceiling, faint and apologetic. “I felt at peace. Everything clicked into place. As stupid as that sounds. It was like something I couldn’t understand but needed. And, well,” he shrugged.

“At last, it finally made sense to me,” he muttered. “The power God holds over us was always right there.” Then he turned to face you, his fingers reaching and resting on your cheek, tracing the soft skin of your jaw. “And now, I stand before you - finding these feelings again, the first true connection I’ve felt in years. I don’t mean to doubt anything…but I don’t know how to...”

He let his voice drift off before tucking your hair behind your ear, movements tender. You wondered what he could see in your expression.

“How did she die?” You asked quietly as if the question would destroy something in the air, but you needed to ask it anyway.

The corners of his mouth trembled as he stroked his thumb along your jawline, offering you a small, grim smile. “She was mad at something, drank herself sick. Decided a joy ride on a motorcycle might be a good idea,” he turned his gaze to the ceiling again, and it finally hit you that he kept doing that as a trick to keep himself from crying. “She lost control and swerved, hit a wall head-on. Died on impact. Stupid girl with the dumbest ideas. She used to talk about seeing if the world curved or if the stars continued forever. She was funny and smart - but not as smart as she should have been. Her blood alcohol level came back three times the legal limit.”

“That’s horrible,” you breathed. The puzzle pieces were assembled together. A crash. Drunk. How similar it was to your mother. Only your mother hadn’t met death head-on. It was still one of those things that made you wonder; which would have been worse? The chance was so similar yet unique. Still, as Father Sylus spoke about it, you swore you felt the faint sorrow he must still carry within himself.

“Sylus, I’m -”

“Don’t be sorry.” He said, finally regaining a certain poise about his face, somehow managing to look warm even at this moment, smiling very softly.

At his words, you realized you were breathing harder than before, and it didn’t go unnoticed as he scanned your face. You didn’t know what was wrong with you; you felt an emotion you could no longer explain. He had experienced loss, same as you, just not in the same way.

Father Sylus let out a dry snort. “It’s not a happy memory, but something good comes from pain. Distrust to trust. Fear to courage. Hatred to love. To an extent, those things make you understand and appreciate everything.”

You nodded, unable to stop yourself from wrapping your arms around his middle, convincing yourself you would forget how to breathe if you didn’t. You embraced him because it felt like the right thing to do, the smoothness of his shirt beneath your fingertips. His hand ran up along your side until it rested on your neck's base, soft, gentle, and warm. He exhaled a little before resting his chin on the top of your head.

As he held you, you realized that this was what you had wanted. This was what you had really been aching for. Everything shifted again, changing, rushing with a tangle of nerves and dizziness. Nothing else would settle more easily than being cradled right there, where you could breathe him in.

“Hey, do you -” He leaned back, both hands cupping your face, tilting it to meet his own. It took him a moment to formulate his question. “I shouldn’t ask, but - do you still want me?”

Of course you did. More than anything.

But even then, you should have stepped away. Should have walked out without another word, back to whatever fucking regular life you thought you had. But with whatever strength you had left, you pushed everything aside and quietly said, “Yes.”

He had pressed you against the wooden door of the office, pinning you in place after dragging you in there and shutting the door. Not that you really had any intention of going anywhere. Not with his lips moving against yours, the desperation sending sparks along your skin. His tongue darted out, parting your lips and moving into your mouth. Hungry and forceful and tasting every inch.

“You know,” he said as he pulled back, taking a second to breathe, “It’s so hard to be good when you’re so…” He trailed off, leaving you to only imagine what he would say.

No, you had no words or any logical thoughts, really. Perhaps this was the closest thing to heaven you’d ever feel, surely. And Father Sylus ran his hands down your sides, slow and possessive, grabbing fistfuls of your sweater and bunching it up. Heat began spreading throughout your body as his fingertips crept underneath and stoked along the sensitive skin.

“Will you let me in?” He mumbled, his lips now on the underside of your jaw as his palms spanned across your stomach as if trying to map out every inch of exposed skin. The blood pounded in your veins, pulsing in rhythm with your heartbeat.

“If this is what it feels like to be tempted,” you mused, gasping as he sucked on the skin above your collarbone, gripping the front of his shirt. “I have already failed. Miserably.”

Letting out a hot breath that sounded an awful lot like laughter, he pulled away, a smile stretching across his lips, amused. “I suppose you really have,” he chuckled. His hands gripped your hips and spun you around so you were against his desk. Then he ducked down to press more kisses along your throat. The shivers returned as he lifted your sweater over your head, tossing it aside with another wicked grin. And for the first time, you noticed the hint of a dimple in the corner of his mouth.

After a moment, Father Sylus fumbled with the buttons of his shirt until that, too, was discarded, skin suddenly bare. The sight made you stop, observing for a moment. For the first time, your fingers reached out and touched the skin of his chest, moving over the muscles and across his stomach. You marveled at the way he flinched slightly, inhaling sharply at your touch.

Everything felt…hot, heavy, and inappropriate in the best way.

And before you knew it, his hands were running up along the bare skin of your stomach, a barely-there brush that made your breath hitch. Then his hands were behind your back, unhooking your bra as his lips found yours again, rough and fervent. As it was removed, there was not a second of delay before his hands cupped both of your breasts, squeezing and drawing his thumbs over your nipples.

“You’re so beautiful,” his hands shifted, fingers resting along the waistband of your jeans.

It was like every little action was becoming overwhelming, sending pulsing waves through every nerve, vein, and muscle. When he popped the button, slid the zipper, and slowly eased the jeans down, the pulsing only got stronger—dizzying with its intensity. It was challenging to focus on anything else that would make more sense. Your mind was clouded.

“Wait,” you breathed, sitting on the desk, pulling the clip from your hair and tossing it to the floor, the waves tumbling out. His hands never left you, still roaming over every little centimeter of you they could get access to, “I -”

It didn’t need to be said, whatever it was. Because a grin broke out across his lips. A bright, glorious grin as Father Sylus pressed another harsh kiss to your lips like he could swallow the words down.

Stepping closer, he maneuvered you onto your back, your legs dangling over the edge of the desk. The smooth, cool wood pressed against the length of your spine and shoulders as you heard something that sounded like a book fall somewhere behind you. He gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, blunt nails digging in. Breath hitching, your heart thumped at the roughness and passion of his movements. Something animalistic and unrestrained lay just beneath the surface, waiting, ready.

“Let me,” he urged quietly, fingers winding over the lace underwear, dragging them down the length of your legs. Fingers stroked up again, curling and caressing your inner thighs, one hand finally reaching the place where you were already desperate, soaking wet, and aching to be touched. Without hesitation, a digit dipped, sliding along your slick folds and slipping in easily. The motion made you bite down on your tongue as his other hand ran along the underside of your knee, urging your leg up and apart.

You felt the pad of his thumb gliding over the little bundle of nerves, back and forth in a way that made you groan.

“You are,” his voice was low, almost a growl, and his teasing continued. “So gorgeous, laying there. I can’t stop looking at you.” One finger became two. Slick and hot as they moved into you, each stroke moving deeper. All too suddenly, his lips were crashing down against yours, kissing you hard and desperately as if set on devouring you whole.

The only thing keeping you stable was grabbing his shoulder and his upper arm. The sudden rise of pressure rushed around you. His thumb slipped, pressing down a bit more on your clit, drawing another gasp from you, a sound that filled the room. Then he pulled his hand away, an invisible weight settling when the digits were gone, leaving you empty and still aching for more.

“I’m on birth control,” you managed, eyes blinking rapidly as you processed that this, in fact, was actually about to happen. The fullness beneath your belly was spooling tighter, coiling.

It was only a few seconds; that’s all it took for him to undo his belt buckle, his length freed. Straining, leaking, begging to be inside you. The size of it makes you swallow a certain anxious lump in your throat.

“Please.” The word spilled out before you could stop it. The coil inside you grew more and more tense and throbbing. You needed it now; the consequences didn’t matter, nor did the guilt or shame. “Please.”

His breathing hitched as if a long controlled flame within had been ignited. One of his hands rested on your hip, the other hooking under your opposite knee, parting you further and steadying himself. The tip of his cock pressed at your center. You didn’t have any time to prepare because, at that very moment, he was pushing further, sliding into you inch by inch.

The heat and fullness and pleasure coursed, trembling through you.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed, face buried in the crook of your neck, but you could hear the grin in his tone, the soft desperation in his voice. “You, you -” but his breath choked off as he pushed all the way inside, the moan that ripped through him cracked and hoarse.

It took you a moment to feel him fully, gasping for air and dazed beyond what was really necessary. Holding tight, you wrapped an arm around his neck, exhaling hard. The room became a haze around the two of you, the entire moment almost suspended, paused, put on hold.

When he moved his hips again, you whimpered as he hit somewhere deep, and your pleasure spiked.

“Fuck,” he whispered against your skin, raising himself just enough to look at you, eyes glinting with a certain fervor. A little dark, a little feral, something wildly possessive and hungry and yearning all at once. “Oh, fuck,” he hissed, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes. Another jolt shot through you. Another strong thrust, this one harder than the last, followed by another. And another. It took a minute for him to set a rhythm, but when he did - you were sure the air was being pushed from your lungs each time.

You couldn’t do anything but hang on. His mouth met yours in a sloppy, forceful kiss. Gasping and shuddering, you tried not to shout at the next jolt. The constant grind fills you every time. Deeper and sharper. The steady, thrumming pleasure. Intense and focused, as if Father Sylus were on a mission. Searching for something. Finding each sweet spot with whatever desperate greed drove him. Like now that he’d had the taste of something forbidden, he wanted the best of it - anything you could offer.

He shifted slightly, and before you knew it, he hooked your leg over his shoulder, the deep angle making you arch from the desk.

One hand tangled in his hair, the other on his shoulder, gripping hard and pulling him closer, trying to keep him buried deep inside of you. The friction built, the pace driving forward and drawing the pressure up, leaving you malleable and aching for release. But somehow, wanting it to last as long as possible.

When the pleasure spooled tighter and tighter, every breath came short, coming fast and shorter. Until finally with one long, breathy whimper of an exhale, release washed over you, crashing like a wave. His name slipped out of your mouth, some deep, instinctual part of your brain keeping you present enough to utter it, still pulsing around him, shaking.

And that brought him there, a little broken sound falling from his lips. Hips snapping, driving just the slightest bit further until he groaned into the side of your neck, spilling inside you. After a moment, the stillness settled between the two of you, heavy and thick. There was no actual sound other than ragged breathing.

You stared at the ceiling, trembling and a bit boneless, wholly dumbfounded and satisfied. Then, with every ounce of energy left, you sat up, placing a hand on his chest.

“You okay?”

A rush flooded through you at his question, and you struggled to make sense - to be logical and reasonable.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, “I just. I…” What was the right wording? You trailed off, eyes focused somewhere beyond him. Struggling, you kept your eyes away. How could you possibly articulate the warmth that had settled over you, the lift in your confusion that had been gnawing at you until this moment? How could you explain feelings that make no real sense?

“I feel at peace.” A near whisper because your words made it tangible, whatever it was. And really, you did feel lighter. It was as if something weighing on your shoulders had lifted in a way that wasn’t just because of the act that had been performed.

“Really?” A sharp inhale of his breath.

You nodded, reaching out to hold his face and running your thumbs along his cheekbones. Father Sylus slowly returned the nod, a tentative but wonderful, hopeful smile quirking up his lips—something bright and genuine, untouched by bitterness or remorse.

Serenity had sunken in with a comforting familiarity. Settling inside, like the feeling of returning home. Like the truth had opened its door. Acceptance and serenity. Understanding. Clarity, even. The knowledge you weren’t as broken or faulty as you thought.

A moment passed, no words spoken. Then, still breathless and maybe a bit disbelieving, Father Sylus reached out and traced a cross on your brow with his thumb.

“Did you just -” You blinked, a bit indignant as you huffed. “Did you just…bless me?”

He looked a bit sheepish, hands resting on your shoulders, thumbs rubbing gentle circles along your collarbone. “Guess I did.” With a slight chuckle, he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead.

Tag list: @celestialforce, @readerxyourbabe, @babyx91

#lds #l&ds #love and deepspace #lds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lds rafayel #lds xavier #lds fanfic

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twilightkitkat · 17 hours ago

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Hi, I have a question, what do you think the relationship between Logan and Steve would be like? Would they be friends or just partners in war? In "X-Men Evolution" You can see how Logan has a certain appreciation for him, saying that both make a great team , and Wade's reaction to knowing that his peanut knows his childhood idol would be very funny, he would surely go crazy

(English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any mistakes)

I think that Logan and Steve have a unique relationship. They're close in the sense that they trust each other and would fight back to back without doubt, but they're distant in the sense that they don't spend a ton of time together. They both have worked together long enough to know that they make a good team and that the other's reliable, but they aren't traditional friends.

I feel like Steve would feel closer to Logan than Logan feels to Steve. Steve remembers the war like it was yesterday, he suddenly woke up in the future with it fresh in his mind. Suddenly everyone he knew is now dead and he has to come to terms with an entirely new reality. He'd struggle and look for any kind of familiarity he could, and so even people he used to just view as teammates he misses. Logan was someone he admired, who used to run into danger and miraculously come out of it alive each time. He was a symbol of hope for Steve, and an inspiration for how he should fight to win the war.

Logan, on the other hand, lived through all those years. He's used to war and violence and meeting people and losing them. Most of it blurs together, after a while. He knew about his immortality and always expected to outlive his teammates, so he kept emotional distance from them. He cared about Steve in a way, they worked together and occasionally they drank together and exchange stories, but he never was under the illusion it'd last. So he did what he was good at: distancing himself before people had the chance to get too close. He respected Steve's abilities and even came to like him, but there was always a wall between them.

But still, the two spent time together. Both out of necessity and occasionally by choice. Steve was more open between the two, and talked about his life and hopes and dreams. Logan couldn't help but listen, even if he couldn't offer much in return. He sometimes sprinkled in half-truths about his life, but kept it vague. He couldn't let anyone find out about his mutant status or actual age, so he was pretty withdrawn. Steve noticed, but didn't comment.

If they reunited, it'd be a one-sided shock. Logan watches TV and naturally knew about Captain America's existence. How could he not, when Steve Rogers was America's poster boy? The Avengers were way too big to fly under the radar. Meanwhile, Steve knew about the X-men's existence, but never thought it might be Logan as The Wolverine he'd heard about.

When they sorted it out, I think Steve would be grateful to have someone who he shared a past with. Who knew about who he used to be and what war was like back then. Logan would feel a little lighter, knowing that his old teammate was doing well. They might not see eye to eye all the time and their methods are pretty different, but they both care.

Wade would be understandably shocked and awestruck when he learned they knew each other. But more than Wade's reaction to Steve, I think that Steve's reaction to Wade would be interesting.

Steve had always seen Logan as someone distant and unattainable. He didn't open up to people and clearly had some secrets he was keeping close. Even after learning about his powers with their reunion, he didn't know everything about his past. He thought Logan was just that kind of guy, caring and kind in his own way but gruff and stoic on the outside. A lone wolf who's dedicated to doing the right thing, but doing it his way.

And here Wade was, bouncing around Logan like a damn pinball in a machine, and Logan was... smiling at him. Fondly, dripping with affection. It's so painfully obvious that he cares and Steve has never seen Logan so open about his feelings. He was expressive, sure, but he guarded his affection and more vulnerable emotions close to his heart.

It'd be a little jarring to see how Logan acted around Wade. Affectionate, free, content. It wasn't like the image Steve had in his head at all and yet it suited him.

It made Steve reflect on himself. If even Logan could act like that, what about him? He'd fostered business relationships, friendships, and teamwork. But maybe he should look for more. (Could he be that happy, too?)

Steve may be America's Poster Boy, but he was alone. He had to stand up and stand out to get recognition. He was the leader, the one people relied on, never allowed to be vulnerable or break character. But if Logan found someone he could rely on, who he saw as an equal...

Maybe Steve has more to learn than just the technology in this new era.

#kitkat #poolverine #deadclaws #deadpool 3 #deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett #wade wilson #deadpool movie #wade x logan #wade/logan

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cherubcameron · 3 days ago

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I love you, I’m sorry

Rafe x Sofia

Authors note: this might be a little meta, but reader is in this. She’s not romantically linked to either Rafe and Sofia in this one. So this is almost like an au where she’s just Sofia’s pogue friend. Can yall tell I really like the whole singing thing.. also I won’t lie to yall. My mental health has decline by a lot so here’s something that’s helping me cope.

You’d been surprised when Sofia had told you; she quit. You’d been even more surprised that she had told you that Rafe told her too. You’d told her that was a terrible idea. That rich guys like Rafe would end up fucking her over and she shouldn’t be financially dependent on him. She hadn’t listened.

A rapid knock was heard at your door. You went quickly towards the door. You opened it, seeing a crushed Sofia.

She had told you everything.

You hadn’t realize how deep it’d all been. But now you were with her on the beach. Trying to distract her from all that had to do with Rafe Cameron. You’d brought your other friends. Hoping that’ll cheer her up. But to no avail, she sat on the beach blanket; quiet.

“Ay amiga! I know it hurts now. But you’ll heal from it eventually.” You say, holding her hand. She looked towards you, furrowed brows and a frown.

“I just— I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me. He told me he hates when people break his trust. And I did the worst thing possible. I’m such a piece of—

You stopped her before she could continue. Your hand on top of hers.

“You can’t beat yourself up for it. Even though, was it excessive? Yes, but it’s already been done. You can’t keep hating yourself because you were hurt by his words. You acted out of hurt.” You say, trying to console her.

Her head falls to your shoulders. “I’m still an idiot. I should have known it was a swindle. The whole thing felt sketchy. Now Hollis is dead and Groff ran away with Rafes money.”

You give her a sympathetic look. “It’s like, no matter how hard I try. I always make dumb decisions that hurt the people I care about most. I let my anger get in the way.” She continues. “He did so much for me and I threw it all away. If he never forgives me. I don’t blame him.” She looked down at the ground, a frown on her face.

A Karol g song starts to blast through the speakers and you looked down at her and smile.

“Dame tiempo/que no estoy mi mejor momento.” (Give me time, that I’m not at my best) You start to sing, Sofia looking up at you, a sad smile on her face.

“Y mientras me curo del corazón/Hoy salgo pa'l mar a aprovechar que hay sol/Está bien no sentirse bien, es normal, no es delito” (And while I heal from the heart/Today I go out to the sea to take advantage of the sun/It's okay to not feel good, it's normal, it's not a crime)

Tears start to roll down her face as you continue to sing. Your hand now in hers. You sway a little as you sing. Unaware of someone approaching you two from behind.

“No necesito más/Solo amor, dame tiempo/Yo me sano con tu compañía/Esa paz que me das” (Don't need more/Just love, give me time/I heal with your company/That peace that you give me) She finally is back to eye level with you. She sings along with you. You nudge her, making her smile.

Someone clears their throat, you and Sofia breaking apart. Turning to see who it is. Your eyes widen as you see who it is. Rafe. You turn to see Sofia then back to him.

“I’ll leave you two… alone.”

(Sofias pov)

Sofia looked at Rafe as he sat down beside her on the sand. Rafe looked back as her friend walked away. He turned back to Sofia.

“So..” Rafe starts.

“I’m so sorry.” She sobs, it comes out of her quickly. He turns to her suddenly, his expression unreadable.

Then he sighs.

“Why did you do it?” He asks coldly, he looks towards the ocean. The waves rolling out towards shore. It would have been peaceful, had it not been for the tension between them.

“The deal with Hollis? It was stupid and it’s just going to make you more mad.” Rafes face hardens, his jaw ticking.

“I’ll be more mad if you don’t tell me. Tell me why? I deserve to know that much.” He looks at Sofia intently, she could feel her heart hammering in her chest. She didn’t know how to begin.

“My dad had came to me, asking for my help. He’d— he’d asked me to help Hollis nudge you for this deal.” Sofia sighs, her eyes looking towards him. But he’s still watching the waves roll out, kissing the shore before rolling back in. “ I told him no, originally. That I wouldn’t scam you like that. That it was dishonest.”

Rafe scoffs, shaking his head. “Oh yeah?”

Sofia face screws up, “Yes Rafe, I wasn’t going to do that to you. But then. But then I heard you with Ruthie and Topper.”

Rafe finally turns when he hears those two names. His brows furrow.

“That just because we hooked up didn’t mean that made me your girlfriend. That you wouldn’t live with a pogue… how you have standards.” She says, now being the one who turned towards the ocean. Unable to look him in the eyes.

Her friends had gone towards the water now. Making sure to give them privacy. —Silence engulfs them. The sounds of the seagulls, people laughing, and the waves crashing can only be heard.

“I didn’t mean that.” He says, “I just— when I have something. I don’t want people to ruin it and I just didn’t like how she spoke to me. I was being defensive. But I didn’t mean it.”

Sofia scrunches her eyebrows. “It still hurt to hear, Rafe. I-I know I messed up. I only did what I did out of anger…”

Rafe is silent for a while, he rubs his hand across his face. Biting his lip, which she wasn’t used to seeing.

“I just need time okay.” He finally says.

“Time?”

“Time to forgive you. I know I broke up with you so fast. I should have let you explain yourself. But it’s not like you were dying to say anything.” He says bitterly. Their eyes finally meet. It feels almost like the first time it ever did. Without her betrayal. When things were fresh. She would do anything to go back to that.

He’d been so kind. She didn’t think someone like him would ever notice her. But he did.

“I love you, I’m sorry Rafe.” She whispers, his face can’t settle on an emotion to feel.

“Just give me time.” Sofia nods, placing her head on his shoulder. He lets her. Both of them watching was the waves settles. Smoother than the crashes it had been.

Taglist

@lostsyren

#sofia x rafe #rafe cameron #rafe and sofia #sofia outer banks #sofia obx #rafe obx #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction

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gothamite-rambler · 15 hours ago

Text

A Day in the park (Tim Drake comfort fic)

Tim Drake rested on his stomach on the floor of his bedroom, resting his head on his bent arm. Old jazz music played loudly from a record player connected to a large speaker, filling the dim room with melancholy melodies. The curtains were drawn tight blocking the midafternoon sun and casting shadows over the scattered remnants of what had once been a vibrant space.

A year had passed since his father’s death and two years since his mother had died. Losing both parents as a teenager felt surreal; they were simply gone from his life. Tim thought he would cope with grief and loss with ease like his hero, Dick Grayson had when faced a similar loss at least that's what he thought.

All he felt was the crushing weight of the world, with knowledge setting in his parents weren't coming back. On significant days commemorating his parents, Tim’s energy was replaced with spiraling sorrow. He often locked himself away in his room, isolating himself from everything and everyone. The absence of Jack and Janet loomed heavily over him, an unshakable presence that colored every moment.

Tim (voice heavy with despair): I hate life.

His eyes glazed over, staring blankly into the distance.

Tim (fighting his emotions): I’m not going to cry. I won’t cry… I just have to celebrate his birthday… that’s the least I can do si- since I couldn’t save him. God, what's the point of doing anything anymore?

He groaned, his gaze lost in the void, as if seeking answers in the emptiness, but was only met with silence.

Hallway Outside Tim's Room

Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson stood outside the closed door to Tim's room, both concerned since Tim had been shutting down on days that were linked to his parents and it seemed he was getting worse.

Bruce: How long has he been in there?

Dick checked his watch.

Dick: He started at 5 in the morning, so that’s about 16 hours.

Bruce crossed his arms, a look of concern on his face.

Bruce: It’s not Mother’s Day or Father’s Day. His mother’s birthday and death anniversary aren’t until—

Dick (raising a hand): Bruce, it has officially been a year since his father, you know, died and he found him there.

Bruce (rubbing his chin, pondering): Hm, thought he'd be passed this already.

Dick (giving Bruce a pointed look): Mm-hm, and how well did you handle your parents’ death?

Bruce (defensively): Okay, I was eight when they were shot and killed in an alley.

Dick blinked slowly, irritation washing over him as he covered his eyes with his hand, listening to yet another excuse from his father. Despite being adopted, they had both endured the same experience.

Dick (irritated tone): Bruce, I went through the same thing. I watched mine hit the ground after being shot!

Bruce (deadpan): It's not a competition, and if it were, I'd win.

Dick (forcing a sugary tone): Why don’t you just go off and be all emo somewhere else? I’ve got this covered.

Bruce (firmly): All I’m saying is maybe this is tied to something about his parents, and he needs to patrol to clear his mind.

Dick (annoyed): Bruce, last week he walked into a burning building—not to save anyone. He just went in and sat down. I had to drag him out, and his body was limp.

Bruce (shrugging): It happens.

Dick (rubbing his forehead in frustration): Yeah, well, it wasn’t fun carrying you out of a building when I was ten. Just leave.

Bruce (sticking to his idea): I was just suggesting options. He’ll be fine; he’s done this before.

Dick (voice rising): That’s not a healthy coping mechanism! He walked in on his father’s dead body!

Tim cranked up the volume on the loudspeaker, wanting to drown out the ramblings of his family and block everything but the music from his mind. Bruce glanced at Dick, then shook his head in silence.

Bruce (flatly): Fine. You handle him, Dr. Phil.

Dick: (crossing his arms): Okay, that was uncalled for.

Dick sighed, setting aside his frustration with Bruce’s disregard for Tim’s obvious depression, and knocked on the door.

Dick: Tim, do you want to hang out with me today?

Tim pressed his face against the floor, making it impossible for Dick to hear him.

Tim (voice muffled): There’s no point in doing anything today. Let me wallow in the depths of my despair.

Dick (sincere helpful tone): We can get lunch, see a movie, whatever you want.

Tim groaned as he pushed himself off the floor and trudged over to the door. Under normal circumstances, he would have leaped at the opportunity, but today was different. When he opened the door, Dick took a step back, taken aback by Tim's disheveled appearance.

Dick (holding his nose): Have you showered at all?

Tim (hollow tone): No. I’m staying in until my dad’s birthday is over. Just leave me be.

With that, Tim shut the door again, returned to his original spot on the floor, and flopped back down, squeezing his eyes shut and resting a hand on the back of his head.

Dick (sudden realization): Dad's birthday! That’s today.

He lingered for a beat, recognizing the inappropriateness of his reaction.

Dick (cont’d): With that in mind, Bruce and I will give you the space you need.

Tim (sarcastically): Fantastic.

Tim hit replay on his dad’s favorite jazz song for the fifteenth time, closing his eyes as memories of happier moments washed over him.

---Wayne Manor Kitchen- Three Hours Later---

Tim finally emerged from his room, propelled by thirst and a craving for juice. He walked past Jason in silence, retrieved a bottle of pomegranate juice from the fridge, and sank heavily into a chair at the kitchen table. Jason glanced up from his phone, noting how worn out Tim appeared.

Jason: Hi, Tim.

Tim grunted, uncapping the bottle and chugging from it. Jason eyed him, puzzled by his behavior.

Jason: You okay?

Tim (drained): I feel nothing.

Jason (nodding): Mm-hm, you look like a crazy homeless guy outside my apartment.

Tim (deadpan): That’s pretty spot on.

Jason: Have you taken a shower? Because you—

Tim (insulting himself): Smell like I bathed in skunk juice and then doused myself in air freshener? I'm aware.

Jason nodded, picking up the empty juice container, astonished that Tim had downed it entirely, and taken aback by the stark change in his demeanor from bright, lively, and snarky to this despondent state. Tim’s gaze remained fixated on the ceiling.

Tim: The bright bulbs in the ceiling hurt my eyes.

Jason: That happens when you’ve been hiding in your room for too long.

Tim: I deserve this isolation... I wish I’d died twice to save them. Now all I have left are dead parents, depression, ADHD, and anxiety. What’s the point of being productive?

Jason (feeling awkward but trying to be civil): You’re not wrong.

Tim (hopeless): There’s no point... in anything. I couldn’t save them... I’m not a hero.

Jason grabbed Tim by his shirt, pulling him up firmly.

Jason: I can’t deal with this. We’re going outside!

Tim (somber): I want to lie here in my sorrow. At least feeling mentally dead brings me a little closer to my parents.

Jason shoved Tim into the back seat of his car, where Tim slumped against the seats, whimpering softly.

Jason: We can deal with that where I'm taking you.

He started the engine and drove off leaving the Wayne Manor.

Jason (cont’d): By the way, Tim, you’re channeling more emo than Bruce on a good day. We need to change that. Fresh air and—burning those clothes.

Tim (muffled due to his face buried in the seats): Uggggghhhhhhhh.

Jason (turning up the radio): Glad you agree.

---Gotham Park - Twenty Minutes Later---

Jason strolled down a path, Tim trailing behind him like a shadow through the park. Tim longed for the solitude of his room, where he could wallow in despair, but Jason had ventured out of his own gloomy comfort zone to reach out. They had a rocky history, but that was in the past.

When they reached the top of a hill, Jason stopped at the spot, turning to face Tim.

Jason: This seems like a nice spot. You can—

Tim flopped onto the ground.

Jason: I meant you could sit down, but that works too.

He took a seat next to Tim and awkwardly patted him on the back of the head, not very skilled at offering comfort.

Jason (cont’d): Hey kid, um, how… how are you feeling?

Tim (face in the dirt): Dead inside.

Jason (trying to ease the tension): That… makes sense. I’ve been there. I was dead once, and I understand what it’s like to feel mentally dead. Not brain dead! You- You get what I mean.

Tim (annoyed as his face lay in the dirt): Mm-hm.

Tim rolled onto his back, shielding his eyes from the sun by resting his arm across his face.

Jason plucked little blades of grass while Tim let out a heavy sigh.

Tim (cont’d): You forced me to shower, change clothes, and currently I’m touching grass. Can I just go home and be sad there?

Jason: A few years ago, I would have done that, blamed you for what's happening to you, but sometimes it’s better to distract yourself when you’re feeling down. I never really got that chance, but now you have me to help you out. I'm not the best at comforting people, but I for you I'll make an exception.

Silence settled between them, prompting Jason to poke Tim’s arm to check if he was still awake.

Tim (irritated): I’m not asleep. My way of distraction is reminding myself how I failed in life. They’re both gone, and I’ve accepted that life is meaningless.

Jason (shrugging while plucking grass out of the ground): I mean, life isn’t completely meaningless. Most times it's a bitch, but you keep going. The fact I’m saying that has to mean something. Right?

Jason gave the depressed boy a half smile, but Tim wasn't having it.

Tim (bluntly): That you’re good at lying.

Jason: While that may be true, I mean it this time. Life is unfair, but you shouldn’t wallow in pity on your dad’s birthday.

Tim (voice trembling): I… just want to go home. I just want to go home. Why won’t any of leave me alone?

Tim refused to open his eyes in fear of crying.

Jason frowned, feeling a wave of empathy wash over him.

Jason (somber tone): We’ve had our... issues, if you know what I mean. You know the time I beat you up?

Tim (bitterly): When you said you made fun of my mom dying by drinking water?

Jason's eyes widened when he remembered that he did say that specific insult.

Jason: Right... I regret saying that, but that's in the past. Today, I want to be here for you. You don’t have to face this alone, even if it feels like the world is against you.

He hesitated, recalling past grievances.

Jason (cont’d): I made bad jokes about your mom and then your dad, and that’s probably why you don’t want me around right now.

Tim (despondent): You’re not wrong.

Tim didn't respond except for a quick huff from his breathing and he tried to block out any sadness that would make him break. He couldn't cry, not now, not ever and especially not in front of Jason Todd.

Jason (apologetic): And I’m... I'm sorry for what I said and the pain I accidentally put you through.

Tim: Accidentally?

Jason: That's the best you're getting out of me. You won't forgive me... I get that, but I apologizd to show you that I want to help you. You... You lost both your parents and have been holding in how you really feel for a while haven't you?

Jason (placing a hand on Tim's shoulder): Tim, it's not your fault.

Tim: Take me home.

Jason: It is not your fault that either of them died.

Tim (clenching his jaw): Shut up and take me home!

Jason: And they would want you to keep going. And people like me, Dick, Bruce, even Alfred will help you build up the strength to get out of bed without feeling hopeless.

Tim (sniffling): Why? I don’t deserve it.

Jason: You don’t deserve kindness while you grieve? I may not be your biggest fan, but you're not that bad. You’re young, smart, a decent fighter, and… a good person. You shouldn’t shut yourself off from the world because they're gone.

Tim took a deep breath as he felt the walls he put up around him falling away.

Jason: I kind of hate to even admit this, but you've proven yourself to be a decent hero. Which means you’re too damn persistent to give up on life. And we're not leaving until you just let it all out. We're on the top of a hill so we have semi-privacy.

Tim uncovered his eyes, but they remained closed. Jason waited for a response, allowing silence to linger as he gazed over the hillside.

Tim (finally speaking): I hate myself for not being able to save them. My mother... I never got to say goodbye and dad's last words to me was that he loved me. They're both gone and I feel like there could've been something for me to do to save them.

His lip quivered as he opened his eyes, then shifted down as he thought about the last words from his dad.

Tim: I thought I'd have all the time to talk to them, hug them and... they tell they love me. Now I’m alone and it's all my fault.

He covered his eyes again, letting a cascade of tears fall.

Tim (cont’d): I thought things would change when he woke up from the coma, but I got busy with... this life I thought I wanted! Then the last image I have of him is his... bloody corpse. I just remember shaking him awake like that would do anything.

Jason nodded, a sympathetic expression as he placed a hand on Tim's shoulder to comfort him.

Tim: They're both dead. They're both... dead. I'm the reason they're gone.

He wept softly, releasing the guilt he had buried beneath indifference. His heavy breaths echoed in the quiet space. Jason remained by his side, awkwardly patting Tim's shoulder for comfort.

Jason: Don’t blame yourself for things beyond your control. I swear, everyone in this family has blamed themselves for their parents' deaths.

Tim (between sobs): Not you.

Jason (bluntly): I shielded my mom who betrayed me to the Joker, before a bomb went off and killed us both. Believe me, I’m just as crazy as the rest of you.

He attempted to ease the tension with a joke, but Tim merely whimpered and gritted his teeth. Jason sighed but refused to give up.

Jason (cont’d): Come on, sit up.

Jason helped Tim sit up, positioning himself closer. Tim kept his head down, a frown clouding his face.

Tim (sadness in his voice): Now I’m crying like an idiot.

Jason (reassuringly): I’m not judging you for crying. If you were crying for something mundane I would, but let it out like I said.

Tim (loud): I hate this. I hate this. I just want my parents back!

Taking a deep breath, Tim said something he had never wanted to confess, especially in front of Jason. Jason patted the young man on the back again, it was his best way to comfort the person he tried to kill in the past.

Tim (cont'd): I remember when... when I thought it sucked they weren't around that much, but they were still in my li- life. I'd take barely around parents over ones I'll never see again.

Jason: Hm... What's something both of them likes?

Tim: My mom loved dandelions. She said weeds or not the cotton ball flowers always made her happy to see. I remember one time she picked a bunch of them in a field once when we... Went on vacation together. She looked so happy with those stupid flowers.

Tim chuckled while crying.

Tim: And my dad... He loved jazz music. Couldn't sing it, but he would play it almost every night to the point I got sick of it. I got sick of it and... Now I can't stop listening to it.

Tim bit down lightly on his finger as Jason sat next to him.

Jason (sympathetically): It's tough adjusting to that at a young age. Sorry to bring Bruce and Dick into this, but they've been through it... Fuck, I went through it and when time passes it... gets easier to manage.

Tim whimpered wiping tears from his eyes.

Jason (sincere): You say that you couldn't save them and you're a failure. You’re many things to me, Timmy boy, but someone who wouldn't want to protect others is not who you have ever been.

Jason gently nudged Tim.

Jason (cont’d): I’m not letting you go home feeling like Bruce. By the end of today, you'll feel slightly better. What do you want to do first? We can sit here, grab some food, hit the bookstore or library, or even go to a rage room—whatever you want, the day is yours.

Jason waited for answer, surprising Tim.

Tim (sniffling): What’s a rage room?

Jason: It’s a place where you can smash things. You pay to enter, get a bat or a golf club, and for thirty minutes or an hour, you just let loose on some broken stuff. It’s oddly therapeutic.

Tim: That actually sounds fun or maybe I’m just losing it.

Jason: Probably both. Want to go?

Tim lifted his head, considering the idea.

Tim (wiping his eyes): Why are you doing this? I thought you hated me.

Jason: Um… I did, but I've changed to toleratibg you. I can see you’re hurting, and I don’t want to act like I don’t care. You deserve more than that. Don't get used to me being this nice though.

Tim: If I get better don't expect seeing me cry like this.

Jason (smiling earnesly): Sounds good to me. I thought you were just this annoying ric— upper middle class brat who stole my mantle— which you are—but you’ve grown on me.

Tim: This feels like a trick, like you’re going to toss me in your car and drive off a bridge or something worse. Which I'd deserve…

Jason: I’m not going to kill you; that’s out of my system. But for the rest of the day, drop the self-hate—that’s my specialty.

Tim wiped his nose, a dry laugh escaping him.

Tim: Maybe you are the best person for this. Plus, you dragged me out of the house, and I’m too depressed to drive or walk home....All right, take me to the rage room first.

Jason nodded, helping Tim stand to his feet.

Jason: That’s the spirit, let’s go. Then we can hit the Waffle House.

Tim: Isn't that place dangerous?

Jason: I have a gun. We’ll be fine.

As they walked, Tim hesitated.

Tim: Did Dick tell you to do this? If he did, you’re not obligated to-

Jason (interrupting): Yeah, Dick called me about what you were going through, but he never asked me to step in. I wanted to help… myself; this is too important to hand off to someone else.

Tim managed a weak smile, appreciating the gesture.

Tim: I still have my doubts, but I appreciate this—for now.

Jason: Just don’t expect this from me all the time. I do feel bad for you, but against my better judgment, I'd rather make you feel less dead inside than laugh at you.

Tim (judgement tone): Or send me a Christmas card with you next to my mom’s grave?

Jason laughed.

Jason: That was a fun Christmas card, wasn’t it?

Tim rolled his eyes, but after a moment, he let out a dry chuckle.

Tim: I can’t believe this is happening, but your jadedness is lifting my spirits.

As they continued toward the car, a small weight began to lift from Tim's heart.

Tim (cont’d): If you have a picture at my dad's grave though, I'm beating you with a wiffle bat.

Jason chuckled, feeling lighter himself.

Jason: That’s the Tim I remember! No worries, I’m not that much of an asshole anymore.

Tim: We’ll see.

They climbed into Jason’s car, the atmosphere lightening.

Jason: All right, let’s get to that rage room. No crying there; you can do that afterward.

Tim nodded, giving a thumbs-up while resting his head against the window as they drove away. His guilt and depression wasn't gone, but Jason's support was a good start.

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guilty-ff · 1 day ago

Text

𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐏𝐭. 𝟒

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ˚⁎⁺˳ .

This story takes place after Jason's death (warning: not 100% Comic accurate)

Pairings: Dick Grayson/Nightwing x (fem!Reader), Slight Jason Todd/Red hood x (fem!Reader)

Genre: Action, Angst, Revenge, Violence, DC

Warnings: Comic Spoilers!, Explicit content, Child abuse, swearing, torture, mental health, weapons

Word count: 2589

The air feels thick with blood, the cold smell of death filling the room. Jason stands over Ra's al Ghul's lifeless body, his chest heaving with exhaustion. His broken hand hangs limply at his side, the weight of the fight heavy on him, but something haunts him- a strange emptiness, a hollowness where there should be victory.

He killed him. He killed the man who controlled Y/n's life for so long. He took away the source of her torment and pain. But now, when it is over, Jason does not feel relief. He does not feel victorious. Instead, there is only the growing self-hatred eating him from the inside.

The door to the training room swings open, and Jason's gaze snaps toward the figure standing in the doorway. It is Talia al Ghul. Her expression is not one of anger, grief, or shock. It is something darker- satisfaction, even amusement.

Talia does not flinch as she takes in the scene. The bloody remains of her father lie across the floor. "You've done what I could never bring myself to do," she says, her voice calm. "I suppose I should thank you."

Jason's jaw tightens as anger surges in him. He wants to kill her too. She is just as much a threat as her father. He steps forward, eyes burning with rage.

But Talia holds up her hands in a gesture of surrender, her gaze never leaving his. "I'm not here to fight you," she says, her voice careful.

Jason remains aggressive, fists clenched, but he does not move. The tension in the air crackles, and he waits for her next move.

"I came to discuss your next move," she continues, glancing briefly at her father's body. "What you did was necessary, I suppose. Ra's had grown too obsessed with his plans. He was always blind to what really mattered. You were right to stop him." There is no sadness in her voice- only the same cold, calculating tone Jason expects from her.

Her expression shifts, hardens, as she looks at him. "But you've made an enemy of all who followed him. The League of Assassins will come after you, Jason. And they will come after Y/n."

Jason's eyes narrow. "What do you mean?"

Talia's lips curl into a cold smile. "I'm moving her. I can't leave her here, not with you. She needs to go far away. You can't protect her from the consequences of your actions. Ra's may be dead, but others will want revenge. For his death. For her defiance."

Jason's heart skips a beat. "What are you talking about? Where is she going?"

Talia's eyes flicker toward the door. "You'll never see her again," she whispers. "She will be far from you. Safe. No one will hurt her anymore. You can't follow her. Not this time."

Before Jason can respond, Talia turns and walks away, her footsteps echoing in the silent room.

Jason stands there, rage building inside him. He cannot let her take Y/n. Not now. Not after everything they have been through. He has to stop her. He runs through the hallways, breathing hard, heading straight for Y/n's room. He needs to get to her, tell her everything, explain why she cannot leave him.

He reaches the door and slams his hand against the metal. The lock breaks with a twist, and the door swings open. Y/n is sitting on the floor, her back against the cold stone wall. She looks up at him, eyes wide with shock and confusion. When she sees him, her expression falters. She stands quickly, unsure of what to do.

Jason cannot hold it back. "I killed him," he says, his voice rough. "Ra's al Ghul. He's gone. I killed him, Y/n. He's never coming back."

Her breath hitches. Her eyes flicker with disbelief, lips parting as if she wants to speak but cannot find the words. Before she can, she slaps him hard across the face.

The sting of her palm burns against his skin. He does not fight it. He just stands there, stunned, as she steps back, tears flooding her eyes.

"You- you don't get to do that!" Y/n cries, voice thick with emotion. "You don't get to take my revenge! I was going to kill him. I was going to make him suffer. And you-" She chokes on her words, fists shaking. "You took that from me. You took my chance to be free of him forever."

Jason's throat tightens. He watches her, his heart aching. He wants to explain, to tell her why he did it, why it was necessary. But Y/n is not listening. She is too angry, too hurt to hear him. And in that moment, Jason realizes- she is not angry with him. She is angry because she lost something. She lost the chance for her own closure.

"Y/n, I—" Jason starts, but she cuts him off, voice shaking with fury.

"Don't tell me what I need," she spits. "You don't get to lecture me on what I should do. You don't know me. You don't know what I've been through. Revenge is the only thing I had to keep me going. And now you've taken that from me. I don't know what's left."

Jason's face twists with guilt. He cannot bear seeing her like this. He did it for her. He wanted to free her from the past. But now he sees that he took something important from her- the chance to confront it herself.

"No, Y/n," Jason says, his voice breaking. "You don't need revenge. You don't need to keep holding onto that anger. You can move on. Please, Y/n, listen to me."

Y/n's eyes narrow, chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. "Don't tell me what I need, Jason," she says, voice fierce. "You don't get to tell me what to do when you're still holding on to your own demons."

Jason's face falls. Her words hit him hard. She is right. He wants revenge on Batman. He has been consumed by it for so long. He thought he could protect Y/n from her past, but he has not even let go of his own.

"I want to make him feel what he made me feel, Y/n," Jason admits, voice quieter now. "I've spent so much of my life thinking about revenge, thinking about taking him down. I don't know how to stop. But here I am, telling you to let it go when I can't even do it myself."

Y/n takes a step back, her eyes dark with realization. Her gaze softens, but it is filled with a sadness that Jason knows he deserves. "You're no better than me," she whispers. "You want revenge on Batman, but then you're standing here telling me I shouldn't want the same. It's hypocritical."

Jason's chest tightens. For a long time, he cannot speak. Her words cut deeper than any blow. He realizes she is right. He is a hypocrite. He has been so focused on vengeance that he could not see how unfair he was being to her. He had taken her chance at revenge away, yet he clung to his own thirst for it.

Y/n shakes her head, eyes heavy with understanding. "We're both trapped in this," she says softly. "We're both holding on to something that's destroying us. And you can't tell me to stop when you can't stop yourself."

Jason does not know how to respond. He stands there, looking at her, knowing she is right. He does not have an answer for her. He cannot fix things for her, not when he has not fixed himself. He reaches out for her, gently cupping her face. "I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I didn't want to take that from you. I just-" His words trail off. What else can he say?

Y/n's expression softens, but there is still pain in her eyes. "I don't need you to apologize," she whispers. "I just need you to understand."

He nods slowly. Before he can say anything more, he leans in and kisses her. It is slow and gentle, not desperate. It is a kiss filled with everything they both want but cannot fully express; tenderness, desperation, grief, all tangled together.

When they pull apart, Jason's forehead rests against hers, both of them breathing hard. "I don't know what comes next for us," he whispers. "But you need to leave."

Y/n closes her eyes, then opens them again. "But I don't want to", she says quietly.

Jason's heart races as Y/n's words sink in, and for a moment, he is frozen. He can feel the weight of her words, heavy with truth and defiance, cutting through him like a knife. She does not want to go. She does not want to leave him. And despite everything that has happened, despite all the reasons he has been telling her to go, her decision cuts straight to the core of his own turmoil.

"I don't want to go," Y/n says again, her voice shaking but resolute. "This is my choice. My own will. Like you always told me I should have- freedom to make my own decisions, to choose my own path, right? I've been a prisoner my whole life, Jason. But now, for the first time, I get to decide. And I'm choosing you."

Jason feels his breath catch in his throat. The look in her eyes is unwavering. She is standing there, vulnerable but strong, giving him a choice that seems impossible to accept. She is asking him to let her stay, to let her be with him- despite the consequences, despite everything they have been through.

She steps closer, not waiting for him to respond. "I'm not going because someone else tells me to," she continues, her voice barely above a whisper, but fierce. "I'm not leaving because my mother or anyone else says it's safer for me. I'm leaving because I want to be safe. Safe with you. I want to stay with you, Jason."

She pauses, her hand reaching out to touch his arm gently. "You told me once I deserved my freedom. Well, I'm taking it now. And the freedom I choose is to be with you. Don't take that from me. Please don't make that choice for me."

Jason's chest tightens at the words, and he feels like he is suffocating. He wants to let her stay- God, he wants nothing more- but the reality of what is coming, the danger that will inevitably follow them if she stays, claws at his heart.

But her words echo in his mind: freedom. She is choosing her own path, making a choice that is hers alone to make, just like he always told her she deserved.

And yet... He has been telling her to leave, to go, because he cannot bear the thought of her being in danger. The idea of her facing the wrath of the League because of his actions, because of his past... it terrifies him. But as he looks into her eyes, he knows she is right. It is her choice, her freedom, and maybe it is time he let her make it.

"Y/n..." Jason starts, but his words falter. He does not know what to say. He wants to tell her everything- how he feels, how terrified he is, how he has never felt this much for anyone but the words don not come. She is looking at him with such raw vulnerability, and all he wants is to hold her and protect her from the world.

But he cannot.

Instead, he just shakes his head, his own heart breaking. "I don't want you to stay because of me," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want you to be here out of guilt, out of obligation. You deserve better than this, Y/n. You deserve peace, a life where you're not constantly running. I can't promise that to you. I can't promise you safety, and I can't promise you happiness. I can't promise that I can protect you from what's coming next. And if you stay, you'll be in danger, and I'll never forgive myself if something happens to you."

Tears fill Y/n's eyes, but she does not back down. She takes another step closer, her hand gently cupping his face, her thumb tracing his jaw. "I don't care about safety," she says softly, her voice breaking. "I don't care about guarantees. All I care about is being with you. That is my choice. It's what I've always wanted, and now it's finally mine to make. I'm not running from you. I'm not leaving you behind."

Jason's breath hitches, and for a moment, he is caught in the swirling chaos of his emotions. She is looking at him with such intensity, with such love and resolve, that it makes his chest ache. She is choosing him. And despite all the danger, despite all the uncertainty, she is standing there, holding onto him, telling him that her decision is to be with him.

"I don't want to lose you, Y/n," Jason finally admits, his voice raw with emotion. "But if you stay, I'll be the one to put you in danger. I won't be able to protect you from everything. I won't be able to shield you from the consequences of what I've done."

Y/n shakes her head slowly, a small, sad smile on her lips. "I'm already in danger, Jason," she says quietly. "I've been in danger my whole life. What's one more fight? What's one more war if I get to choose who I'm fighting for?"

Jason feels a lump form in his throat as he looks down at her, realizing that despite all his fears, despite all his instinct to protect her from the world and the chaos he has brought into their lives, she has made her choice.

"But you promise me something, Jason," Y/n whispers, her voice thick with emotion. "Promise me that no matter what, we'll find a way to make this work. That we'll find a way to be together, no matter what comes next."

Jason pulls back slightly, looking down at her with a sad expression. He does not have answers. He does not have a plan. All he can offer her is the promise that he will never stop trying.

"I promise," he says quietly, his voice steady. "I'll find a way to fix this. I'll find a way to make things right. For both of us."

They stand there in silence for a moment, holding onto each other tightly, before the sound of footsteps approaching pulls them apart.

Talia's voice cuts through the room. "The jet is waiting," she says sharply, glancing at Jason with a look that borders on impatience. She does not seem to care much about the emotional scene unfolding before her, her eyes already on the door as if she has no patience for this moment of weakness.

Y/n glances up at Jason one last time, her eyes filled with both sadness and determination. "I'll be back," she whispers, her voice low, just for him.

Jason nods slowly, his throat tightening once more. "I'll be waiting, Y/n. I'll find you. No matter where you go, I'll find you."

She smiles softly, a tear escaping down her cheek as she gives him a small, almost sad wave before turning and walking toward the door.

Talia gives Jason one last look, the same calculating expression in her eyes. "We'll be gone before you know it," she says coldly, and with that, she steps aside, allowing Y/n to leave.

Jason watches them walk away, the door closing softly behind them. He stands there, heart pounding in his chest, not knowing what comes next but knowing one thing for certain- he will not stop until he finds her.

22 notes · View notes

bteezxyewriter12 · 1 day ago

Text

Name

Pairing- Tae x Named Reader

Word count- 10.5k

Includes- oral, blow job, pussy eating, face riding, cock riding, missionary, multiple orgasms, love making, fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @marvelfamily3000 @amyz78 @blueie-things

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝BTS Masterlist 📝Taehyung Masterlist

J POV

"I found my soulmate Jo!", Elena gushes

"Oh yeah? That's great!", I answer, getting jealous and disappointed

I'm glad I'm on the phone with her instead of in person. That's way she can't see my face

"Yeah! He just came into the Starbucks and when I asked his name he said Stefan. I was so excited and I asked him his last name. He said Salvatore. It's the name that's been in my head since I was born! I had a feeling when I first saw him"

"Did you tell him your name?"

"No he asked if I was Elena Gilbert before I could tell him! It was him!"

"That's crazy. And so out of nowhere", I reply

I'm trying so hard to stay cheerful for her

"It's just like they say Jo. You can feel that they're yours. You just know. The love is there and it's like everything wakes up in you."

Sounds amazing. Too bad I'll never find mine

"I'm happy for you Elena. You're so lucky"

"Don't worry Jo. You'll find yours"

I hold back a snort. Yeah right. Not with the name I'm stuck with

"Yeah I hope so."

"I gotta go. Stefan is coming over and he'll be here soon"

Already? That's quick. I mean I know he's her soulmate but she doesn't know him like that. What if he's a serial killer? But it's her life

"Ok Elena. I'll see you soon"

"Yeah Jo. Ok. Bye!"

"Bye", I answer and hang up

I sigh. It's so not fair

"Urgggg", I whine

That's my last friend who didn't have a soulmate. Now they all have one and Elena's gone. Once they get their soulmate, my friends all drop off the face of the earth. They're with their soulmates 24/7. So now I'm alone

I haven't found my soulmate. I don't think I ever will. The name in my head is not something that anyone would name their kid

The name of my soulmate is "V"

One letter. One fucking letter. Never going to happen. I've had people contact me because they had my name in their head

Joanne Summers

Easy. But when they tell me their name, it's never V. Never. And I've given up

------------

I close the door to my apartment, sighing. I just got off of work and I'm dead tired from the commute. I just want to eat, watch TV and then sleep. After showering and getting into my pjs, I flop on my couch, turning the TV on. Opening the Uber eats app, I order some food, then watch TV

Looking up I see I'm watching Jimmy Fallon. Eh he's ok and I'm too tired to care what I watch. I'm just waiting for food. I scroll through Twitter, glancing at the tv now and then. Screaming comes from the tv and I look up. What the hell?

A group of Asian men come onto the stage and the crowd gets louder. A group of very handsome Asian men. Who are these people?

"We have the biggest kpop boy band here tonight. BTS!"

BTS?

Who the hell is that? And what is kpop? Jimmy asks the guys to introduce themselves and I grab the remote to change the channel. I don't know who they are and I don't care

Pointing to the tv, I'm about to change the channel when I hear, "Hi guys, I'm V"

I stop dead in my tracks and look up at the tv

Did he say...V?

Which one said it? I don't know. The last one speaks and says his name is J-Hope. Which one is V?

I sit on my couch, my mouth hanging open and eyes glued to the TV. Jimmy is asking them questions and one of them keeps answering and talking. Is he the front man? Is he V?

Five minutes later, Jimmy asks another question and the one who keeps answering hands the mic to the one next to him saying, "Suga, answer"

Suga? What are these names? I'm guessing their stage names like Avenged Sevenfold has. Suga answers and hands back the mic. I find out the one who talks a lot is RM and that they other ones aren't that great in English. Some are better than others. Jimmy asks certain members something and they answers. There's three that haven't spoken yet

"V, what do you think?", Jimmy asks

RM hands the microphone to V. And I see him for the first time. And hear his voice. He's fucking beautiful. More beautiful than I am, hands down. And his voice is so deep. Can the name in my head be his stage name? He's the only person I've ever heard call themselves V. His English is alright.

During the commercial, I Google BTS and find out kpop is Korean pop music. So he's Korean. I don't speak Korean. I don't live in Korea. He does. Because of course he does

When Jimmy Fallon comes back, BTS performs a song, it's called "Butter". It's in English. I watch V and he has a beautiful singing voice. And he can dance. All seven of them are amazing

When the show ends, I grab my laptop and go back to Google

-----------

I've been up for hours. I'm going to have to call in sick tomorrow. It's almost four a.m.

I've fallen into a BTS hole

I really like their music. They're videos are amazing and their dancing is incredible. I read all about them and I found out their real names

What V's real name is

It's Kim, Taehyung

The members call him Tae, Tae Tae and Tayhungie

Adorable

All the members seem like kind, generous and honest people. They care and love their fans who are called ARMY. They're really all just big goofballs having fun

V is a year younger than me. He's twenty six and I'm twenty seven. BTS is huge, bigger than the Beatles used to be. And I instantly know, there is no way I can ever get in contact with V. Not unless I go to Korea and basically go broke buying albums for the chance to get a ticket for a fan meet. So I found my soulmate, maybe, but I'll never be with him. He'll never know me

I can't even guess how many fangirls tell him they're his soulmate. He's one of the maknaes, the younger members and he is the bias of so many girls. He's voted the most handsome man and he's the most popular member. Why would he believe me?

And how many Joanne Summers are in the world who are his fan? My name is common. My chance is zero . Still I have to try

I'm in the middle of writing a message to him. I'm going to send it through Weverse. I read that the members answer their fans more on there. And my post will be public but I don't care. If he sees it, then I don't care what anyone says. I can't think of anything else to do

So I post a simple message and hope he reads it

--------------------------------

Tae POV

I'm eating breakfast with the guys. We came back to Seoul after the Jimmy Fallon show. I crashed on the plane and all day yesterday

Thank god we have today off

I check my phone while I eat. Instagram, Twitter, Weverse. So many people messaging us. I scroll through the "to V", messages on Weverse. Some are in English, Korean and other languages. I try to answer as many as I can

I see a long message from someone and it catches my eye because her name is Joanne

The first name of my soulmate

I basically have given up on finding my soulmate. There are so many girls messaging me that they're my soulmate but it's never true. I don't know how I will ever find her or how I'll know it's the right girl. But I can't just not read her message especially since she has my soulmate's first name

She wrote the message in English. I can read and understand English but I rather read it in Korean. Taking a bite of my sandwich, I hit the translate button and start reading-

"Hi. My name is Joanne Summers and I think you might be my soulmate. I just saw you on Jimmy Fallon tonight and heard you call yourself V. The name of my soulmate is V. I know you may not believe me and have lots of girls say they're your soulmate but I swear I didn't even know who you were until tonight. I basically have given up finding a V, and I'd like to meet you to be sure if you are my soulmate or not. I know I sound insane and I'm sorry. I understand if you never answer me. I don't even know if you'll see this. But if you do thanks for reading.

-Joanne

I gasp and drop my sandwhich

"Tae what's wrong?", Jimin asks

I hear him but I can't answer him

I can only stare at the message. And I know it's real. I know it's her. Because she said that the name of her soulmate is V. Every other girl whose ever messaged me says my real name is in their head

Kim, Taehyung

But this girl....she said V

And her name is my soulmate

Joanne Summers

"TAE!", Namjoon yells

I look up to see the guys looking at me

"I...I found her", I whisper

Yoongi raises his eyebrow, "Found who?"

"My soulmate"

"Uh ok, how?", Hobi asks skeptically

"She messaged me on Weverse"

"Seriously Tae? You can't believe that", Jin answers

"It's true.", I insist

"C'mon Tae, we all get so many messages from girls and guys saying that they're our soulmate but they're really not.", Jungkook scoffs

"She said the name in her head is V", I blurt

They all stop and look at me

"V. Not Kim, Taehyung. V. No one ever said the name of their soulmate is V. They always use my name."

"That's different. I don't think anyone has ever used our stage names before.", Jimin muses

"What's her name?", Hobi asks

"Joanne Summers"

"The name of your soulmate", Namjoon realizes, "Maybe it is real."

I nod. I think it is. I have to meet her to see

"Be careful Tae. I see that look on your face. You want to meet her. Just be careful", Jimin warns

I just nod. I'm not dumb, of course I'll be careful. Now I have to think of a way to contact her. I can't do it on Weverse. Everything there is public. I have to use Twitter or Instagram and message her privately. But how am I supposed to know which Joanne Summers is her?. I log onto Instagram and search her name . So many profiles come up

I sigh and click on the first profile

------------

Oh my god I found her. I've been on this goddamn app for over an hour, looking at every profile with her name. I know this is her because in her small profile description the only thing there is V. And a link to her Twitter

I take a few minutes to look at her pictures since her profile is public. She doesn't have that many. I click on a picture of her. And my breath catches in my throat

She's gorgeous

Beautiful deep eyes, stunning smile and long hair dyed pink

Going back to her profile I click on her Twitter. I decide to follow her. But first I change my private Twitter bio to include, "It's me. V", in English. Then I click follow on her profile and wait

--------------------------------

J POV

My alarm clock goes off and I want to die. I want to sleep more. But I have to go to work. I called out yesterday but I can't today. It's just the commute to the city that kills me. Over an hour going and coming back. It's exhausting but there's nowhere else I can do my job in New York. And I don't want to move. Not yet anyway

I sigh, forcing myself up and into the bathroom I get dressed quickly and grab my phone, throwing it in my bag without looking at it. I'll get some tea and food on the way to the train

-----------

I hate being on the subway. Weird fucking things happen on the subway. I avoid eye contact as much as I can. Which means I look at my phone. Which I'm going to do now

Taking out my phone, I look at it for the first time today. Nothing much.nBut I assumed as much. Like I said all my friends are with their soulmates so no messages for me. The only thing I have is a Twitter notification. Someone followed me. I click on the notification. I want to see who's following me, hoping it's not a weirdo

The name is in Asian characters. I have no clue which language, so I can't read the name. And the picture is of a painting. I scan the bio and my heart stops

There in English, it says, "It's me. V"

Is it really him? I have no idea. But I need to take the chance. So I follow him back. I know that if he's in Korea it's a twelve hour time difference. It's 9:30 am here, so there it's 9:30 pm there. Hopefully he's still up

So I send a message

"Hi. Is this V? For real?"

Hopefully he'll answer. Maybe I found my soulmate

------------

My phone buzzes as soon as I get into work. It's a Twitter notification for a message

"Hi. Yes this is V. I saw your message on Weverse. I think you're my soulmate too. The name of my soulmate is Joanne Summers. You're right that many girls tell me they're my soulmate. But you are the first one to tell me the name in your head is V. That's why I think this is real."

As I'm reading, another message appears, with a phone number

"This is my cell number. Can I have yours?"

I'd usually say no but he spoke about the message I sent on Weverse. And said my name is the one in his head. And that he thinks this is real. I hope I don't regret it and I send my phone number

I'm about to send another message when my phone starts ringing. A video call. From the number V sent me. I rush into my office and sit down, picking up the phone

The guy on my phone is the guy I saw on the tv the other day

And my god he's gorgeous. He's staring back at me and I'm aware that I have to talk

"Hi"

"Hi", he answers

Fucking hell, his voice

"Are you V?", I ask

He nods, "You are Joanne Summers?"

I nod

"I uh sorry. I no speak English well", he says

"Oh, that's ok. I don't speak Korean"

Then I think of something

"How did you write the message to me in English?"

"Oh. Uh I write in Korean. Namjoon uh write what I write in English"

Ok, he got RM to translate. I don't have anyone to translate what I write into Korean except Google translate. And that is known for being wrong a lot

"I'm sorry I don't have anyone to translate things to Korean", I tell him

"It's ok. I can uh read and uh... understand English. But writing and uh talking no much"

He makes a writing gesture to show me what he means

"I uh want talk to you more. Are you work or school?"

I want to talk to him too. Get to know him and see if this is real

"Yeah I'm at work now. I just got here."

"Ok where you live?"

"New York"

He nods, "Twelve uh hour time, not same"

I get what he means. He's talking about the time difference. I nod

"When work done?"

"Five", I say, holding up my hand with five fingers up

"Oh. I sleep then"

"Yes ok. When do you wake up?"

"Different times. Sometimes six, but a lot eight or nine"

I nod, "It's night time here then. I can talk to you then"

"Ok. And I can talk to you when night here"

That sounds great

"Ok", I agree

"I come to uh U.S. in May. For Billboard awards and tour. I have uh show in New Jersey. I want to see you", he tells me

He wants to meet me? I want too as well.

"Yeah that sounds good", I answer

"I uh want to message too. Is that ok?"

I nod, "Yeah"

He smiles and shit it's beautiful

"Ok. I go now and you can work"

"Yeah ok V."

He shakes his head, "Tae. Call me Tae"

His real name. He wants me to call him by his real name. I feel so fucking giddy

"Ok. Tae", I agree

"Bye Joanne. We talk later"

"Ok Tae. Bye"

He smiles at me, waves and I wave back. Then he hangs up. And I sit stunned

He got back to me. He actually called me. And he wants to keep talking to me. And meet me

This idol, this famous singer, wants to meet me. And he thinks I'm right, that we are soulmates. He's coming in May. In two months. It seems so far away

But I've waited for him for years, I can wait two months

🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯

2 months later

Tae POV

"So I can see you tomorrow?", I ask her

She nods, "Yeah. Just tell me where you want to meet and I'll be there"

"Oh, I come to your job? I like museums"

"You wanna come here?", she asks

I nod

"Well ok. I can meet you here.", she agrees

"Good. At one?"

"Yeah that's good for me", she answers

I smile, "Ok. I see you tomorrow"

"Ok. Bye Tae", she says

I love the way she says my name

"Bye Jo"

She smiles, then hangs up. I'm so excited to finally meet her. After the first day I spoke to her, she's never left my mind. I think about her all the time. We text all day and night. We video call twice a day. We talk about everything. I've been practicing English and having Namjoon teach me more so I can speak to her. I've gotten better over the last two months. I still have a lot more to learn but at least I can talk to her. And I've fallen in love with her. She's an amazing person, she's beautiful and she's everything I want. And I know that even if she's not my soulmate, I'm going to ask her to be mine

----------

I scan the area as I walk to the New York Museum of Natural History. She works here but took today off so we could meet. I hope she's not annoyed that she had to come back to where she works. She's told me she's a paleontologist

I didn't know what that was and she explained she works with and studies prehistoric life, mostly dinosaur bones in the museum. That's amazing. I never heard of someone doing that. I'm hoping maybe she can take me to the back where she works and show me some cool stuff

I get to the stairs and look for her. She said she'd be by the stairs, behind the statue. Scanning the area, my eyes land on a girl with light purple hair. She changed her hair since I first spoke to her. To light purple. I did too

Mine is black now

The girl has her back to me but her head is moving like she's looking around. Maybe looking for me. I pull down my mask, take off my sunglasses and cap, so she can see that it's me

The girl turns around and I see that it's her

The second our eyes meet, something wakes up inside me and I know. She's mine. I found her. I feel unconditional love for her and the need to be with her. Everything around me fades away until I'm just focused on her

"It's you", she says, "I found you"

I nod and walk straight to her. I need to be near her.When I get to her, I pull her to me, my lips on hers in a second

Fireworks blast in my body and I feel like I'm complete

--------------------------------

J POV

I see Tae standing in front of me and I know. Everything that all my friends told me happens when you see your soulmate in person for the first time is true. I know he's my soulmate. I don't know how I know but I do. Honestly I fell for Tae these past two months

I love him

But the love for him that bursts in my body now is more powerful than what I felt before. He's mine. I belong with him

"It's you", I say, "I found you"

I can't believe I found him. He walks straight to me, pulls me in his arms and kisses me

The second his lips touch mine, fire races through me

I slide my arms around his neck, getting as close to him as I possibly can. He deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue in my mouth. Oh my god. His kiss is fucking incredible

When it ends, he pulls back and looks down at me. He's everything

He moves hair from my face and tells me, "I love you"

Complete happiness bursts in my body from hearing him say that

"I love you", I tell him

He smiles and I find his ARMYS are right. He has a boxy smile and it's stunning . He leans down again and kisses me. I know he's going to have to keep kissing me all the time because I'm addicted

He pulls away and asks, "Want to go inside?"

I nod and he takes my hand, lacing our fingers together and we start walking to the entrance

-----------

Tae is so much fun. He loves taking pictures and is constantly snapping pictures with a camera he brought. He keeps his hat, mask and sunglasses off, telling me he doesn't care if people recognize him

"Jo", he calls and I turn around

He holds up his phone this time and I smile. He's been taking so many pictures of me with both his phone and his camera. I didn't want him to at first but then he told me that he wants pictures of his beautiful soulmate on his phone so he can look at them anytime he wants. And I couldn't say no after that. But I know what he means, I'm taking a lot of pictures of him too

"Come Jo, selfie", he says

"Ok Tae", I answer

I go next to him and he holds out his phone. We smile for the first, make silly faces for the second and then he kisses me for the last one. Turning to me, he runs his fingers in my hair

"You so beautiful baby. I so lucky", he murmurs

I'm completely floored. He's lucky?Yeah right. I'm lucky

"No, Tae I'm lucky to have you. You're the best man I could ever ask for"

He smiles so widely, "Thank you Jo. You the best girl. I was scared I don't find my soulmate ever. Because I am idol. I'm so happy I found you. You make me happy"

I can't, he's the best guy ever. The things he's saying to me, it makes me happy that I can make him happy

I touch his cheek gently, "You make me happy Tae"

Smiling, he leans down, his lips against mine in another sweet kiss. God I love his kisses. I want them all the time. I'd be happy just sitting together and kissing all day

He takes my hand again as we walk around. He always wants to be touching me somehow. Holding my hand, having his arm around me, moving my hair. And I fucking love it

We walk around the dinosaur exhibit. He was so excited to come here since he knows what my job is

"Wow", he says, looking up at the T- Rex skeleton

He takes a picture, then holds my hand again, walking to the next dinosaur. He lifts my hand and kisses the back of it. I blush and smile. He's been doing that also. Just kissing my hand. He's so romantic

"Jo, can you uh show me where you work?", he asks

"You want to see that?"

He nods, "Yes"

I shrug, "Ok. Come on"

I lead him to an elevator and we go to the floor where I work

-----------

"This is a what?", Tae asks confused

"A Utah raptor claw", I repeat

I find the picture of the dinosaur online and show him

"This uh claw from that?"

I nod and point to the claw on the picture

"Can I hold?"

"Sure. Just be careful."

He slowly lifts it up, his eyebrows raising

"Heavy"

"Yeah. The bones are a lot more heavy than you'd think"

He places it back down

"More?", he asks excitedly

I just smile at how cute he is. We've been here for about half an hour. He wants to see everything and honestly I don't mind at all. No one really cares about what I do so it's nice to have someone interested. I close the drawer with the raptor claws and open the one under it

"Teeth?", he questions

"T-Rex teeth", I correct

"T-Rex?", he gasps, "Dinosaur king? Big one yes?"

God he's so fucking cute. His English has gotten better but sometimes he still speaks in broken sentences. I think it's fucking adorable. I can't speak Korean for the life of me so I have no place to judge his English

"Yeah Tae. The big one we took a picture by"

He nods, picking up one tooth and looking closely at it, "Have you uh dig up dinosaur too?"

"Once. I had to take a class that sent me to Colorado to help dig up a dinosaur that was found"

"Was fun?"

I nod. It was but it was also nerve wracking. I had to make sure I didn't break any of the bones while digging

"What dinosaur you dig?"

"Uh it was a triceratops"

He just looks at me, "I uh don't know name, just what look like"

"Hold on", I say going back on my phone and finding a picture

"This one", I say, showing him the picture

"Oh yeah. Three horns. We see that too in museum"

We did, he took a selfie in front of it

"What is your favorite dinosaur?"

"That's easy", I answer, pulling up a picture of the dinosaur, "Velociraptor"

"Ooo like the movie? Jurassic world?"

"Yeah like the movie. But they weren't that big"

"No?", he asks, confused

"No Velociraptors were the size of a chicken"

His eyes widen, "That little?"

I nod, "Utah raptors were the size of the ones in the movie"

"Oh. That the claw in the drawer yes?"

"Yeah baby"

He nods, putting the tooth down and I open the last drawer in this cabinet

"What is that? Not bone"

This drawer has small to large lumps in it

"Uh no. That's dinosaur poop"

Shock fills his face and he looks over at me

"Poop?"

I laugh at his expression

"Yeah Tae. Dinosaur poop"

"Why poop?", he asks disgusted

"Because Tae, the poop tells us what the dinosaurs ate"

"Oh I see. But still, yuck"

"You don't want to touch it?", I tease

"Ah no thank you", he day, shaking his head

"Ok baby", I giggle, closing the drawer

I turn back to him, "What do you want to do now? See more back here or go back to the museum?"

He doesn't answer, instead he comes closer and kisses me. My whole body is shocked as soon as his lips touch mine. I love how my body reacts to this kiss. I just get so happy

"I don't care. I want to be with you. Whatever you want, I go", he whispers to me

Pulling him back for a kiss, he puts his arms around me, holding me against him. God, I love being in his arms

"Do you want to go somewhere else?", I ask

"Yes. I go with you"

Should we go somewhere else in the city? Or should we go back around my apartment? There are parks there but it's not central park

"Do you want to stay in the city?"

He shakes his head, "You no like city. I know you come to work. We go somewhere else"

"No Tae. We can stay. I don't want to ruin anything for you. Whatever you want we'll do baby"

I don't want to take him away if he wants to be here. He doesn't come here often and it's not fair for me to be selfish

"I want you. I see New York before. I want see where you live"

"You want to go to my apartment?", I ask surprised

I'm worried that'd be boring for him

He nods, "I want"

Well if he wants to, I guess it's fine

"Ok. We can get a Uber or take the train"

"Can....can we take train? I already drive everywhere. I never go on train"

Right, of course he can't, he's an idol

He'd get swarmed on trains or buses

"We can go on the train baby but aren't you worried people will recognize you?", I ask

He shakes his head, "I have hat, glasses and mask. I'm ok"

"Ok", I answer and wait for him to put everything on. He's right, all the stuff hides who he is. As long as he's safe, I'm good. I take his hand and we leave the office

--------------------------------

Tae POV

The New York subway is.... interesting

So far, there have been people asking for money and a group of people dancing and performing in the train car. Joanne told me not to look because they'll expect me to give them money. I kept switching my gaze between her and the performers

It's crazy that they do this in the subway

Once it was done, they did ask for money. Some people gave them some but most didn't. I don't care about giving them money but Joanne told me not to. I don't know how things are done here so I'm going to listen to her. After awhile, the train stops and everyone gets off

"Uh"

"It's the last stop baby", she says, taking my hand and leading me out of the train

"Ok pumpkin. We go to your apartment now?", I ask

"Yeah. We're going to my car and I'm gonna drive home"

I nod. I know she has a car. She told me she drives to the train station, parks her car, then takes the train. It's a lot just go get to work. I don't know if I could ever do that every single day. We get to her car, get in and she starts driving

-----------

"So this is my apartment", she says

She showed me all of her apartment and we're back in her living room, sitting on the couch

"I like it", I answer

"Yeah? It's probably kinda smaller than you're use to"

"Oh no. It's great. I share with seven people. You get all space by yourself"

She smiles at me, "Yeah but sometimes it gets lonely. You have the rest of the members with you if you need to be around someone"

She's not wrong. I do have my own room when I want to be alone and I can go into the living room when I want to be around people. Everyone is always there

"What about you family?"

"Oh uh yeah I don't talk to them. I don't have any brothers or sisters. Just my parents and they're not nice people"

That upsets me. I can't imagine being without my family. They're one of the most important things in my life. But she had no one for so long

"You have me now", I answer

Her smile widens, "Yeah I do. And you have me"

God, I love hearing that. I do have her. And I'm never letting her go.

Moving closer to her, I crash my lips to hers. She throws her arms around my neck, pulling me closer. I can't stop kissing her. It's like after the first one, I just can't stop. And I love the feeling I get from her kisses. I pull her on my lap and she comes, still kissing. Her hands go in my hair and it feels good

I cautiously run my hands up and down her body. I want to do more but I don't know if she wants to. If it's too soon. Keeping my hands by the hem of her shirt, I play with it, lifting it a little but not too much. She moves her hands from my hair to my shirt and she pulls it up and off

Leaning back, her mouth drops open as she looks at me, "Fuck Tae, you're perfect"

The look on her face tells me she's telling the truth. I'm so happy she thinks that about me. I don't have abs like Jungkook or Jimin. I actually have a little tummy and I was self conscious about it around her. She touches my chest and runs her hands all over me

I close my eyes against her touch and just enjoy it. Her hands are soft and warm against my skin. She slides her hands up my chest, up my neck, touching my face as she leans to me and kisses me softly

When she pulls away, I open my eyes and just tell her, "I want you. So much"

She smirks, "Yeah baby?"

I nod rapidly

She kisses my cheek, then whispers, "Well you're in luck baby because I want you so much too"

"Yeah?", I ask

She nods, "Don't stop"

I pull her to me in a kiss, sliding my hands up her shirt and finally touching her skin. Fuck, she's so soft and smooth, I absolutely love it. Pulling her shirt up, I take it off and throw it somewhere, her lips back on mine in a second. I unclasp her bra taking it off as well

Touching her boobs, I moan against her lips. Kissing down her neck, she leans back as I get to her boobs, holding them up. Putting her nipple in my mouth I suck on it, feeling it get hard right instant. And her nipple isn't the only thing that gets hard

She moans, gripping my upper arms tightly. Going to the other nipple, I lick it over and over, it getting hard against my tongue. Fuck I'm so turned on. When I move back, she stands up, grabs my hand and pulls me with her

I follow her and we go in her room. She leads me to her bed and she sits on it, moving me in front of her. Her hands move fast on my jeans getting them undone and pulling them and my boxers down right away. I watch her lick up and down my hard cock, pleasure slamming my body

"Fuck", I whisper

She takes me in her mouth, sucking right away

"Oh my god!", I yell

I can't, it feels so good

And watching her turns me on so much more. I feel her tongue licking me all over as she sucks harder

"Baby oh god", I moan

She sucks on my head while jerking me off. I don't know which feels better, all I know is that I'm in so much pleasure. She takes her hand away and moves down my cock more, putting all of me inside

When she starts sucking, my body shivers from the pleasure. She nods her head, up and down, burying me in her tight throat each time. My god, it's amazing. Each thrust into her throat brings me closer and closer until I snap

"Joanne oh fuck, baby, baby!", I shout, coming, bliss crashing over me. I feel her swallow on my cock over and over making the pleasure last longer

"Mmmm", she groans, "So good"

My mouth drops open

"Ggg..good?", I stammer

She moves off me, looking up and smiling, "Yeah Tae. Good. You taste good"

Jesus Christ, I can't wrap my head around that. Instead of thinking about it, I gently push her back on the bed and pull off her pants and panties slowly. I take a second to look at her naked body. Oh my god, I can't fucking breathe. She's fucking so beautiful, so hot, so perfect

Running my hands up her body, I lean over her, kissing her again. I love how her arms immediately go around my neck, holding me close to her. Getting on the bed, I lay on my back and pull her to me

"Up", I tell her, moving her on top of me until she's right over my mouth

I can't wait to eat her out. Pulling her down more, I lift my head up and lick her

"Ttt... Tae", she whimpers

I keep going, licking all over, just feeling her on my tongue. And she feels good. She's already so wet and it tastes good. I move my hands on her ass and squeeze

"Mmmm", she moans

Stopping for a second, I look at her pretty pussy, her clit throbbing hard. I want it in my mouth so badly, so I wrap my lips around it and start sucking hard and fast

"Oh my god Tae!", she screams

I can't help but smile at her scream. I'm so glad I can make her feel so good. Still sucking on her, she moans, grabbing my arms tightly. Her clit throbs against lips, sending pleasure down to my hardening cock. I groan, slurping on her clit, her moans getting louder and louder

"Taehyung!", she screams, coming and shaking above me

I lick her cum and I'm so surprised at how good she tastes. I've gone down on girls before but I never really liked the way they taste. But her....I love it. And I know I'm always going to want it. When she finishes I keep licking her to get her to cum again. I swipe my tongue on her over and over, feeling her get more wet. Sliding down to her hole, I push my tongue inside, feeling her pussy squeezing, making both of us moan

I move my tongue in and out of her hole, fucking into her, her sweet juice drowning me. After another minute, she yells my name as she orgasms again and I lick up all her cum

"Mmm so good baby", I murmur

When I finish, I grab her hips, I move her down my body until she's right over my cock

"Please baby", I beg

She bites her lip, nodding at me. Pushing her down on me, my cock gets so wet and warm from her, her pussy the tightest I've ever felt

"Oh shit", I moan as pleasure slams right into me

"Are you ok?", she asks worriedly

I nod rapidly, "You just....fuck...so tight....feel so good"

Jesus I just went in and I already can't talk

"You...you like it?", she asks

"I love it", I gasp

She leans over me, kissing my lips softly. God her kisses are everything. I bury my hands in her hair, sliding my tongue in her mouth. Hers touches mine, sending chills down my spine. I feel her hands slide in my hair and touch my face. Goddamnit I love her so much

She moves back and smiles at me, giving me a quick kiss. Then she sits up and starts moving up and down my cock slowly

"Oh god", I moan

The pleasure is so intense and I've never felt this good before. Moving quicker, she bounces on me and takes my hands, putting them on her body

"Touch me Tae"

Hell yes. My hands slide up and down her body touching her everywhere I can

"You're hands feel so good baby", she whimpers

God she's everything. And she loves me. That's the best part. She loves just me. She just wants me. I'm so fucking happy

"Tae", she moans

She's going to cum. I can feel her throbbing hard. And I've never been more excited for a girl to cum on me

"Tae"

She's right there, so I thrust up into her

"Oh fuck", she cries

"Come on baby", I whisper, moving up into her again

"Taehyung oh fuck", she cries, getting so tight on me as she orgasms

Pure fucking pleasure washes over me as she cums on me. Oh my god, it feels amazing. But I knew it would. I knew being with her would be the best. I had no doubt

The pleasure on her face makes me happy and makes me want to give her more. Holding her hips, I thrust into her while she orgasms, making her scream louder

"Baby-"

"It's ok baby. Again"

She starts moving slamming down as I thrust up. I hit inside so much deeper and I love the feeling, the fast pulsing her cunt is doing around me

"There Tae. Oh shit right there", she moans

I slam up and she shouts

"There?", I ask

"Yes!"

She likes it there, in that spot and I'm going to give it to her. I move faster, making sure I slam into where she wants, her pussy covering my cock in so much cream, making a huge pretty mess

"Fuck!", she cries, orgasming again and holding onto my cock so tightly

"Fuck", I gasp from the pleasure

She shakes on top of me so I just hold her until she finishes. I sit up, holding her to me and rolling her over so she's under me. Kissing her lips hard, I push back inside and start moving slowly. Her hands are on my hips and she slides them up my back slowly, touching everywhere and her fingers leaving fire all along my back. I shiver from her touch and I feel her smile against my lips. I pull away from her, touching her face softly

"I love you"

-----------

J POV

Looking up at Tae, he tells me, "I love you"

Happiness explodes in my heart. I can never stop hearing him say that

"I love you", I tell him

The smile he gives me is so stunning, it takes my breath away. I'm so lucky I have him. I'm extremely lucky I found him. I would never have expected my soulmate to be famous. And everything that led to me finding him was pure luck. I know this . But I'm glad luck was on my side

He kisses me again, still moving slowly

I can feel every move, every thrust, every touch and I absolutely love it. He kisses down my neck, whispering to me as he does

"My baby."

He kisses another spot on my neck

"My Joanne"

Another kiss

"My soulmate"

I can't, he's everything

"My Tae", I whisper to him

He looks at me and smiles before pressing his lips to mine. He moves a little bit harder and it feels so good, his cock going so deep, hitting my spot every thrust. His cock is huge, spreading me wide open, the drag of his cock sending bliss through every inch of my body . He's getting me right there, just a few more thrusts

"Tttt.....Tae baby", I whimper

"Yeah baby", he answers, kissing me more

He thrusts again and I snap, ecstacy washing over me as I orgasm

"Oh god Tae!", I moan, clinging onto him, my body pressing into his

"Joanne, oh fuck, baby", he groans, coming inside

I feel his cock move and throb as he cums, his warm cum filling me so perfectly, feeling so fucking pleasurable it prolongs the bliss

"Fuck Tae!", I cry, shaking in his arms

"Jo, oh, so good", he moans, burying his face in my neck

Wrapping my arms around him, I keep him on top of me, running my fingers up and down his back and playing with his hair. Turning my head, I kiss the side of his face and his shoulder

"I love you", I tell him and keep kissing him

He lifts his head, looking at me, "Marry me"

I blink in shock. What? Which is what I say

"What?"

He kisses me, then gets up and leans over the bed to the floor. What is he doing? Did he really just ask me to marry him?. Is he being serious?

He comes back, laying down next to me and I move so we're facing each other. He holds up a ring to me. Oh my god he's serious

"I love you. You are mine. I am yours. I don't want to wait anymore. I come and know if you are my soulmate, I want to marry you. And you are. I don't want to be without you", he says softly, moving hair from my face

I take in his words and I already know my answer

"Marry me?", he asks again

"Yes", I answer with no hesitation

"Yes?"

"Yes", I confirm, nodding, "I love you Tae. I don't want to be without you either"

I don't. I already loved him before I met him today. And the love I feel for him now that he's my soulmate is so much more than before. I don't want to be away from him

It's going to kill me when he has to leave tonight to go back to the hotel. And he has a whole tour to go on. But I want to marry him. He's my everything

-----------

Tae POV

She said yes. I'm going to marry my soulmate. I'm so elated. I came here knowing I was going to propose to her if she was my soulmate. I didn't want to be apart from her if she was. And she is

I don't care about being too young or being famous for marriage. I'm ready as long as it's her. I was scared to ask, worrying about when the right time would be. But it came so easily. I just asked. And she said yes

I kiss her softly, just feeling her lips on mine. She cups my face, deepening the kiss. I love when she touches me. Her hands are so soft against my skin

When we pull away, I take her hand and slide the ring on it. She looks at it, smiling so widely

"Do you like it?", I ask

She nods, "I love it. It's beautiful Tae. Thank you"

There's more I want to ask her but this I'm scared about. But I have to

"Uh Jo. Can we uh talk?", I ask

She lifts her gaze from the ring to me

"Sure Tae"

"Uh Jo, I want to ask if you uh come with me. To Korea?"

"You want me to move to Korea? Don't you live in the dorm with the members?", she asks

"Uh yes but if you come, I move. I live with you"

"And you want to get married in Korea too?"

That I don't care about. We can get married here or there. Wherever she wants

"Whatever you want Jo. That does not matter. But I have uh stay in Korea. Because BTS is there. If I'm not in BTS, I move here with you. But I cannot now. Maybe later but not now"

"I get it Tae. I know you can't leave Korea", she answers

I'm worried she's not going to come. I know I'm asking a lot in a short period of time. She takes my hand, lacing our fingers and kisses the back of mine

"I'll go with you to Korea Tae."

"Yes? You will?"

"Of course Tae. I love you and we're going to get married. I'm not going to stay here when you're in Korea. Wherever you go, I go", she says softly

I can't hold the smile that bursts on my face

"Thank you baby", I thank her

"There's nothing to thank Tae. I'd do anything for you"

"Me too. I do anything for you", I repeat

"Uh I guess this is happening after your tour?"

"Yes we move after tour. I come help you", I confirm

She's moving for me, the least I could do is help her pack and ship everything

She nods, "I'm going to miss you when you're on tour"

I've thought about that too. I knew if she was my soulmate, I wouldn't want to be away from her so quickly

"You uh can come with me", I say lowly

Surprise falls on her face, "I can?"

I nod, "Yes. Before I leave Korea, I tell manager um about..you. I told them you maybe come with me. I told my members the same. They ok. Manager no ok but I don't care."

"Oh, Tae I don't want to get you in trouble if your managers said no"

I'm not explaining this right. I take a few seconds to think

"Uh they no say no. They say it's not a good idea. But not say no. And anyway, I don't care. You come. Please?"

I hope she understands

"Oh, uh but my job Tae."

Oh right. I forgot. She may not be able to get off

"I forgot", I answer

Then I get an idea, "Uh Jo. When you move to Korea, you quit job here, yes?"

She nods

"So uh, you quit now and come with me", I suggest

"I mean I guess I could but I kinda need to make money Tae. I'm going to have to spend a lot of money to ship my stuff to Korea."

I shake my head, "No think about money. I have money. I pay for everything"

"What?", she exclaims, "No way Tae. No"

"Yes", I insist, "I don't care, I pay for you. I take care of you. I want you to come with me. You don't need a job."

"Tae-"

"Jo, only for a little time. When we go to Korea, you find a job if you want. If you don't want work, it's ok. I pay"

She hesitates

"Please baby", I beg

I want her with me. I'll be able to relax on the tour if she's there instead of thinking and worrying about her. I'll perform better if I know she's backstage, watching and waiting for me .And I tell her this, her face softening

She nods, "Yeah Tae ok fine. But, you do not spend a lot of money on me. And I will get a job in Korea. I'm not a moocher"

Moocher? What's that?

"What is moocher?", I ask

"It's a person who just takes people's money, spends it and doesn't work or do anything to help the person who's giving them money"

There is no way I'd ever think she's like that. I know she's not. I know she loves her job and I know she doesn't like just taking things from people

"I know you're not like that baby. Don't worry."

She just nods

"So you come?"

"Yes Tae, I'll come"

Relief floods my body and I pull her to me, her lips on mine

"Time to sleep baby?", I ask after the kiss ends

"Yeah Tae if you're sleepy"

"I am", I nod

"You don't have to go back to the hotel?"

I shake my head

"No, I stay with you. We pack your suitcase in the morning and go to my hotel. I have a show tomorrow"

"Ok baby. Whatever you want"

"You, I want you"

"You have me Tae. Always"

She kisses me again, then lays in my arms, holding me tightly. Playing with her hair, I put my baby to sleep, then I close my eyes

------------

J POV

"C'mon aegi", Tae says, pulling me behind him, "Don't be uh...nervous"

Of course I'm nervous. I'm meeting his group members. We had to wake up early today because he has to go to sound check and practice for the concert tonight. He asked me to come with him. While I agreed, I'm still nervous. I'm meeting the people who have been his family for the last seven years. What if they think I'm not good enough?

Tae leads me backstage into a room. There are six guys sitting around on their cell phones. Tae starts talking in Korean, making the guys look up. I hear my name in there somewhere

"Hi Joanne", one says to me and I wave, smiling

Tae introduces me to each guy, telling me their real name and stage name. He brings me to a couch where we sit down and I end up sitting next to Jimin on one side

He smiles at me, "You love him?"

I nod and I feel Tae put his arm around my waist

"Yeah a lot"

"Nice but he is a pain in ass", Jimin jokes

I burst out laughing as Tae says, "Hey!"

"Yes big pain and very silly", Jungkook adds

Tae glares at him

"It's ok. I'm a pain in the ass too"

I glance at Tae, smiling and a huge smile bursts on his face

"And anyway he's not a pain."

"Thanks pumpkin"

"Pumpkin? Oh boy he's whipped", Namjoon laughs

"Shush!", Tae growls making me giggle

"It's ok baby", I tell him and kiss his cheek

We stay in the room for awhile while the guys hang out and eat

"Here pumpkin", Tae says, handing me a breakfast sandwich and some juice

"Oh no baby, that's for you guys"

"No Jo, eat it. It's for whoever wants it", Namjoon tells me

"Eat. It's fine", Hoseok says

Tae smiles at me encouragingly and I take the food from him

"Thank you", I say to all of them

Most of them nod, some smile. As I eat Tae is constantly giving me little kisses, little touches and I fucking love it. When we're done eating, Tae tells me that they have to rehearse

"You come baby"

"But your fans"

He shakes his head, "Not yet baby. They come for soundcheck later. Now just us and staff. You can come. Please"

I nod. I want to go with him, see what he does. He takes my hand and leads me down a hallway. The guys are staring out a window and Tae brings me to it. I look outside to see a huge line of people waiting outside

"Is that ARMYS?", I gasp

Tae nods. There are so many people just waiting for them. It's 10 a.m. The concert is at 6. These people are going to be here all day. Just for them. That's amazing

"Wow that's incredible. They love you guys so much"

"Yes. We love them too", Yoongi says

"If not for them, we wouldn't be here", Namjoon replies

I can get that. I think it's so sweet how much they love their ARMYS and everything they do is for them

"Come pumpkin", Tae says, leading me outside to the stage

Tae is handed a green mic and some ear things that he puts in. He takes my hand again and leads me on to the big stage. Music starts and the guys start rapping and singing. Tae leads me down the catwalk while he sings. His voice is so fucking amazing. Both his speaking voice and singing voice is so deep and it turns me on

I move away and watch him during certain songs when they have to dance their choreography. Tae moves gracefully and he's fucking sexy as hell. He's always licking his lips, biting his lip, smirking, acting sexy . And it turns me on so much.

When they finish, Tae comes over to me, "Come Jo. Last song. Then we relax then soundcheck"

"Ok Tae", I answer, taking his hand

We walk to the middle of the stage and he pulls me close to him. He kisses my forehead while the other guys are rapping and singing their part. He smiles at me, then when his part comes, he moves his arm around my shoulder and starts singing

I put my arms around him, looking up at this beautiful man that's mine. When he finishes singing, he smiles down at me, kissing me softly. My heart pounds harder with absolute love I have for him

After the kiss, I hug him, putting my head against his chest. He moves his arm around my waist, keeping me against him. When he sings, I can hear his voice reverberate in his chest. I smile and kiss his chest. I feel him kiss the top of my head when his part is over

When the song ends, he just hugs me while we stand on the stage

"I love you Jo. I'm so happy I found you"

I nod, "I love you Tae and I'm so happy too"

I look up at him and see him moving towards me. I meet him in the middle, our lips meeting in a kiss

Three months later

🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯

J POV

I step out of the plane and into the airport, Tae holding my hand as we walk

"Welcome to Korea", he smiles

I smile back. I'm excited to be here but I'm also so nervous. I don't know Korean that well. I've been practicing Korean more and I'm getting better by talking to Tae. While I can speak it a little, I still can't read it. So I have no idea what's around me, what the signs mean, what the stores are

Tae promises to help me and be with me but I also know he always has a packed schedule. I saw that from spending three months with him and BTS while they were on tour

Constant travelling, constant practicing and concerts. Tae was always tired and I did whatever I could to help him. I'd give him massages, lay with him, hold him, play with his hair. Whatever he wanted, I did

He of course wanted to have sex all the time and of course I wanted to too. I love him and he's sexy as fuck, no way I'm going to say no. And he wants me. He loves me. That still blows my mind

After the tour was over, he came back to New York with me and helped me pack up my apartment. Like he told me, he paid for everything- boxes, tape, shipping costs, even though I yelled at him for it. He'd just smile and kiss me. He's the sweetest thing ever. After everything was sent here, he got on a plane with me and here we are

"You ok pumpkin?", he asks

I nod, "Yeah Tae. I'm good"

"Ok. I call BigHit to get us and we go to our apartment"

"Our apartment", I repeat, smiling at him

He told me he got an apartment last year when the rest of the BTS members were buying apartments but he still lives in the dorm with them. But now that he has me, he wants to live with me. Tomorrow we're going to the dorm to start moving Tae's stuff too

The guys are really nice and they understand that Tae would want to move in with me. They're ok with it. I'm glad. Even though Tae is my soulmate, I don't want to get in the way of his friendships. But everything is going great

"Pumpkin! Car is outside"

He leads me out of the airport right into a car

------------

"No way Tae!", I gasp as he opens the door to the apartment

The apartment is huge. Well what I've seen so far. Which is the huge living room. With the flat screen tv, game systems, couches and table

"What? Is it not good?", he asks confused

I turn to him

"What? Are you kidding me? I love it", I exclaim, hugging him so tightly, "Thank you baby"

"No thank aegi. I love you. Everything is for you"

"I love you Tae"

Standing on my toes, I press my lips to his. He wraps his arms around me, kissing me back

"Come baby. I show you apartment"

Tae leads me around, showing me the large kitchen, dining room, and bathroom. There's five bedrooms- Tae said one is for me for my books, one is for his art studio he wants to set and the other is for a baby.

"Baby?", I ask laughing

"Uh yes. No now. Baby later. After marry. Few years", he answers, turning red

We're planning to have our wedding for next November and Tae is already thinking and planning things. He's already going all out. It's adorable. I'm glad I found someone who wants to get married and have kids

"Ok Tae. Babies later", I nod

"Babies?", he asks

I nod. I know he wants lot of kids. That's general info on BTS' V. I'm not opposed to it. I like kids and I always wanted my own

"Yeah Tae. Babies. We're having more than one right?"

"I...I want more but I don't know if you-"

"I do Tae. With you, I do"

The smile that bursts on his face is so beautiful. He takes my hand again and leads me into the last room

"Our room", he says

I move into the room looking around. There's a huge bed, dressers, tv, huge walk in closet and a door that leads to a huge bathroom

"Wow Tae"

"You like?", he asks

I look at him, "I love, baby"

He comes over to me, pulling me into his arms. Laying my head on his chest, I just stand with him with our arms around each other, in our room

"Are you tired? It late. You didn't sleep much on the plane"

I didn't. I can't sleep on planes. It's so uncomfortable

"Yeah ok. Are you going to stay with me?"

I want him to but I'm not going to force him

"Of course. I'll always stay with you", he tells me

I kiss his cheek and then we both change. I get into the bed and wait for him to come. As soon as he gets in, he automatically comes closer to me, wrapping me up in his arms

Snuggling into each other, I give him a kiss and tell him, "I love you Tae"

"I love you Jo", he answers, kissing my forehead

I close my eyes, laying in Tae's arms

I'm happy I'm in Korea with him. It's a huge move but as long as I have him I'll be ok and we'll get through anything together

I finally found my soulmate and I get my happily ever after with the best guy I could ask for

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