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farmerlarrry · 1 year ago

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Orange Slices (Joel Miller x f!reader)

masterlist | chapter seven | chapter six | read on ao3 | playlist

story summary: A story about finding companionship and love in the midst of chaos.

a/n: Hello! I am so sorry for not posting a chapter in so long. I had some personal stuff going on that warranted my full attention, and it took a lot longer to resolve itself than I anticipated. I promise updates will become more regular (and not be months apart…). Thank you to those who stuck around, again I am so sorry. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and the chapters to come! | This chapter was kind of, sort of messy. I was going to split it into two separate chapters, but decided to post it all as one. I hope you guys don't mind! Also, any small mistakes will be fixed once I get a chance to reread.

word count: 7789

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Chapter Eight

“Hi, I’m Maria,” The familiar-faced woman approaches you with a wide smile. One of her hands is extended outward to you. You stare at her for a moment with wide eyes. Before she told you her name, you immediately recognized her from the photos Tommy showed you. She looks just like she did when it was taken, as if she hasn’t aged a day. You return her reach and firmly shake her hand. Her eyes are hard, yet contradictingly inviting.

Nessa guides you over to one of the chairs in the middle of the room. Tommy is sitting in the one next to it, a small wooden table separates the two chairs and has a small vase of dried flowers in the center. As you take a seat he gives you a warm smile, his spirits seem to be up since this morning. You notice a pair of crutches leaning up against the arm of his chair, causing you to shift your gaze down towards his leg. It’s been cleaned and is now wrapped up much better than before, a sense of relief comes over you.

There’s a small group of people, mainly guards, in the room alongside you, Tommy, Nessa and Maria. The four of you are the only ones in the center of the room. The rest are standing off to the sides, leaning up against the walls, not daring to speak or move. A pit of uneasiness sits in your stomach as you begin to feel everyone’s eyes on you. You try to ignore it, but the feeling begins to become overwhelming.

“Tommy told us a little bit about you and your journey, how you went from Houston to Colorado, you’re a fighter,” Maria suddenly speaks in a confident tone. She is now leaning up against the edge of her desk, her hands clasped in front of her.

“I had help along the way, bu-but I suppose you could say that,” Your voice is small, barely even hearing yourself. You feel intimidated.

“You come from the same group as Charles, right? From the apartment building? And before that you were at a QZ?” Maria cocks her head and narrows her eyes curiously. The others in the room exchange complex looks amongst each other at the discovery of this connection. You give her a single nod and see her glance at Tommy for a split second before returning to you. She smiles. “This must be a bit overwhelming for you.”

You go to say something, but nothing comes out. Your mouth is unbearably dry.

Everyone's heads turn at the sound of Nessa clearing her throat. She’s standing behind Tommy, holding the back of the chair with a firm grip.

“Maybe you can just ask her later? I’m sure she's tired and overwhelmed, like you said,” Nessa chimes in, tightening her grip even more. She’s looking at you with a concerned expression. Classic Nessa, always coming to my rescue… you think, slightly embarrassed at your lack of being able to speak for yourself. It’s like nothing has changed. Maria nods her head at Nessa’s request, pushing herself off of the desk and standing upright.

“Well then, things are simple here. The key to the success of the community is working together,” Maria shifts her attention back on you. “Some tend to the animals, others tend to the garden. There’s a school for the children that is run by some of the parents. There’s much more, but that’s just to name a few. We’ll let you get settled in before talking about your placement. From what Tommy has told me so far, I think you’ll be a great addition to Jackson. Do you have any questions we can answer?”

“Uh… ” You couldn’t think at the moment, you still felt the eyes of everyone looking at you, and you can see Tommy and Nessa both staring at you in your peripheral vision. “Not that I- not that I can think of.” You finally force out.

“If you think of anything, we’d be more than happy to answer,” She takes a few steps toward you. “As for a home, it’s going to take a few days-”

“Maria, if you don’t mind…” Nessa blurts out and Maria directs her attention to her, trying to cover her annoyance with a broad smile. You see Tommy’s eyes go wide and his posture stiffen, he doesn’t move and keeps his eyes locked on the ground. “I was thinking she could take one of the vacant houses in the same area as mine and Tommy’s… maybe the blue one adjacent to Joel’s.”

“Oh, oh… You and Tommy?” You let out breathily, not thinking before talking. You shift your body to the edge of your seat as Tommy and Nessa let out a soft giggle in unison, looking at each other joyously before turning their attention to you. You stare at the two with your brows drawn together, glancing between them. Nessa is Tommy’s girlfriend?

“Like I said, lots to catch up on,” Nessa lets out in a childlike, giddy tone.

When you look back at Maria, she has her lips pursed and is slightly nodding her head as if she is contemplating Nessa’s suggestion, or rather request.

“Usually those houses are reserved for… Well, I don’t see why she couldn’t. You wouldn’t mind showing her the way,” She says to Nessa, not waiting for a response, before turning back to you. “You should get some rest and get settled in, Tommy and I will come to talk to you about a placement once we’ve had time to discuss. Sound good?”

You give her a simple nod.

“Thank you, Maria,” You say as you rise to your feet, she returns your gratitude with a smile before going back around her desk and taking a seat. Everyone else has already begun leaving. Nessa appears at your side with a smile on her face, looping her arm through yours.

“That’s mine and Tommy’s place,” Nessa is pointing at a large, white two-story home before pointing a few houses down at a faded blue two-story home that is just as big. “And that one is yours.”

“Isn’t it… a little big for just me?” You turn to her, slowing your pace. She ignores you, letting her arm fall to her side and taking the lead toward your new home.

As you get closer, you come to realize little details of your new home. The faded blue paint has been chipped off in many areas leaving white patches, the porch railing has completely collapsed on one side, I could fix that, you think. Regardless of it’s apparent flaws, it’s yours .

Nessa is already through the front door, while you’re still at the bottom of the pathway marveling over it. The blue one, adjacent to Joel’s, you look over your shoulder to the house at the end of the street. You have to strain your eyes but you can see a light is on inside through the sheer curtains covering the window. Your heart skips a beat and you find yourself unable to look away.

“Come on in,” Her faint voice pulls you out of your daze. You jog the rest of the way up the pathway, up the steps, and through the door, trying to force any thought involving Joel out of your mind.

Upon entering, you quickly notice the thick layer of dust that covers everything. The interior looks like no one has set foot in it for a very long time. A dust-clad blanket lays messily over the back of the couch, and your heart sinks. It looks like someone had just thrown it over temporarily, thinking they’d be back shortly. A coaster set is scattered on the surface of the coffee table with books stacked neatly just to the side of them. Your eyes move up to the walls, the wallpaper has started to peel, the corners up by the ceiling curling in on themselves, covered in spiderwebs. You walk past Nessa over to the couch and run your fingers along the blanket; dust sticks to your fingers to which you wipe off on your jeans before taking off your backpack and setting it on the ground.

“It’ll take some work to clean it up, but it has potential,” Nessa says unconvincingly, gawking at the dust as she comes out of the kitchen. You silently agree with her, running your eyes all over the different parts of the house again. “Anyway, why don’t you go shower? It’s upstairs, should be the first room to your left. I’ll go grab you a change of clothes, okay?”

As Nessa leaves through the front door, you slowly make your way up the staircase, looking at the pictures that are still hanging up on the wall; they’re of the family who once lived here. Running your fingers along the glass, you wipe away the dust with the pad of your index finger, revealing two children who looked to be between the ages of five and ten; they were sitting under a tree both bearing large smiles. The same feeling you got when you saw the youth-sized sleeping bag back at the factory with Joel reemerges within you, burning a hole in your stomach. You suck some air in and take down each picture one by one.

Holding them tightly against your chest, you enter the room on the left as Nessa had said. It looks to be the master bedroom. You gently place the pictures face down on one of the side tables by the bed, taking a seat and covering your face with your hands, running them through your hair over the back of your neck. You let out a heavy sigh.

The tile floor is cool and somewhat soothing on your aching feet. Peeling your socks off, you look down, noticing all the blisters and sores covering the bottom and sides of your feet, on top of your toes, and the back of your heels. You walk over to the small shower, pull back the cracked, plastic curtain, and turn the knob. The water sputters a bit when it first comes on before shooting out with a steady flow. You watch the bottom of the tub as the dust turns to dense clumps of dark gray, following it as it circles down the drain. Turning around, you walk over to the countertop and begin removing everything from your pockets; the folded piece of paper from your back pocket, the stone from your front pocket, and the bottle cap from the other. Steam starts to fill the bathroom. Your fingers linger on the paper, chewing on the inner flesh of your bottom lip as you begin to unfold it. You trace your fingers along the oranges neatly drawn at the top before shifting your focus to where it had been torn. When you look up, the mirror is fully fogged over. You fold the piece of paper back up and hesitate before setting it down with the rest of the items, shrugging off your shirt and slipping off your pants and undergarments, and kicking them off to the side.

The water stings your skin when you first enter the shower. As you fully emerge your body, you feel every muscle fully relax under the heat, and the steam rolls off your skin. You close your eyes, trying to push all your thoughts from your mind. At this moment, you want to fully relax, pretend life isn’t the way it is, pretend Joel and whatever your feelings toward him don’t exist, the things you’ve had to do to survive never happened. You just want to simply be.

You dread getting out of the warm embrace of the shower. Wrapping the towel around your body and securing it at the top, you walk back over to the mirror, wiping away the condensation that clung to the surface. You see a semi-blurred version of yourself staring back at you. Your face doesn’t look quite as you remember it, you look older, your face is a lot slimmer, and the dark circles under your eyes tell everyone who sees them that you haven’t properly slept in ages. You have a hard time prying your eyes away from yourself, but the sound of something clattering downstairs tells you it’s time to go.

You put your socks back on before going downstairs to prevent dust from sticking to your damp feet. In one hand you have your old clothes, and the other is holding the top of your towel so it doesn’t fall off. Your hair is still wet, leaving a trail of water droplets. Nessa is on her hands and knees cleaning the floor with a rag. Much of the surfaces have already been wiped off.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” she says with a low grunt as she gets up from the ground.

“You’re apologizing for cleaning?” you chuckle, raising your eyebrows.

“We’ll get the rest later,” she responds, turning to the table with a pile of clothes on the surface. She grabs them, extending them toward you. “Here you go. I can take your old clothes… do you want to, um, keep them, or?”

“Oh, well,” you pause to think. The shirt and long sleeve pullover had tears all over them, the jeans were potentially salvageable if someone could get all the stains out, but you doubt that would be possible. “I suppose you can just get rid of them… Nessa, can we just stay in today, and go get the supplies and stuff tomorrow? I’m tired and I-”

“Of course, we can,” Nessa exclaims, nodding her head with wide eyes. She grabs you by your shoulders and pull you in for a hug. “Go get changed, I’ll continue cleaning. Don’t worry about doing anything today, just rest up, I got this.”

You turn to head back upstairs to get dressed. Before making it to the top, you stop for a moment, turning back to look at Nessa who has her back facing you. This peace and contentment, it’s new. You smile to yourself, your heart now feeling full.

Nessa practically forces you to relax while she makes dinner, so you take a seat at the now clean dinner table, watching her as she cooks and continue talking to her. She finally tells you about how Tommy and she came to be a couple. They knew of each other long before they officially met. She always found him to be cute, she’d gossip with Heather and Aimee about him, eventually confessing her feelings for him. She and her friends had been at the bar one night, they were celebrating a mutual friend’s birthday. When she went up to get a round of shots for the table, Tommy came up beside her, very obviously flirting with her. After that they became inseparable. They spent their evenings together, he’d take her out to the field just past the greenhouses late at night. Eventually, he asked her to move in with him. Your heart swells with joy as she tells you the story, she has a smile plastered on her face as she speaks, her cheeks flushed a bright pink. You’re happy Nessa, for the most part, had been able to find happiness after everything happened. You’re happy that in all of this, she’s okay.

She sets down your bowl of chili before taking a seat next to you at the table. The smell overwhelms your senses, nostalgia washing over you, reminding you of your days spent together back at boarding school. Nessa would always make dinner for you and her since the school food was less than ideal, and borderline inedible.

“Nessa,” you say, wrapping your hands around the warm exterior of the bowl. “How’d you get here?”

Her face drops, pursing her lips as she stirs her chili slowly with the spoon.

“Do you want the short version or the long version,” She let out a chuckle, her tone sounding sad.

“Whatever version you’re comfortable with,” You set down your spoon, resting your chin in your hand and offering her your full attention

Nessa’s dad was some big-shot CEO of one of the world’s biggest leading companies, meaning her family was very rich as well as very powerful. He had all sorts of connections and resources due to his status. As word broke out that they were declaring the infection outbreak as a state of emergency, he sent one of his workers from his Houston office to get Nessa. I tried to look for you, I really did, dad said you could come too, but everything was just so chaotic, I couldn’t get back to the dorms and Leon said we needed to leave as soon as possible. The plan was to get Nessa back home to California, but that proved itself to be a lot more difficult than they thought, with the roads being blocked, traffic made it impossible to get anywhere safely, then FEDRA stopped letting people in and out of certain places, they shut down the airports and refused to let planes take off. They had to cut through Utah, but they were unable to get through and eventually FEDRA directed them to the QZ in Salt Lake City. It was really scary when they took Leon away, they separated us shortly after we arrived… I never saw him after that, Nessa said somberly. They just put me into a placement room and gave me no other options, I couldn’t get in touch with my parents, they wouldn’t even let me try. I was so afraid and I was all alone with no answers. She eventually became close with James and his younger sister Megan. Their family took Nessa in and made sure she was safe. James’ dad worked in the radio tower in Salt Lake, he came into contact with an older gentleman, they talked most days, and over time they became friends, he claimed he had a community in Jackson that would offer more security than the QZ’s. All we’d have to do is find a way there, he’d let us all in, no questions asked. James’ mom didn’t want to leave, she was afraid of what was outside of the walls, and felt like the risk wasn’t worth it. After, I don’t know, 3 or 4 years… when things in the QZ’s got really bad, they finally decided to leave and head out to Jackson, they extended the offer to me, I truly had no one else so I joined them. Maybe we underestimated how bad things were, not truly knowing how dangerous things had become but- she let out a heavy sigh, screwing her eyes shut, a tear fell down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away. When we got here it was just James, his dad, and of course me. We were the only ones who made it, and James’ dad, unfortunately, became ill not too long after arriving, he didn’t make it… Since then though, things have been pretty great, you know, it's a good thing we have going on here. I met Tommy who I love, I have friends, and now you’re here, so everything is… good.

Nessa’s eyes were red from tearing up, seeing her like this makes your eyes well up with tears as well.

“I’m really sorry,” Your voice quivers as you speak. Nessa shakes her head. “I should’ve looked for you too, I knew where you were, but I just– I ran Nessa. I didn’t know, I- I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“How’d you make it out?” She spoke quietly.

“I ran into Mr. Erickson in one of the hallways in the main building, he took me to his house and we stayed there for a few days before FEDRA took us to the QZ in Houston,” You responded plainly. Nessa perks up when you say Mr. Erickson’s name.

“Mr. Erickson, the science department’s hot teacher aide, huh?” She smirks through her tears. “What a man to be with when the world ends.”

Both of you laugh in unison.

She asks you about the QZs you were at. You don’t hold back telling her how things truly were, you told her about how you’d go outside of the walls to scavenge for the soldiers. That was how you survived since you didn’t have anything else useful to offer. That conversation eventually led to how you knew Charles, you went into detail about the apartment building, the people who resided there and how you were forced out by a rival group one unfortunate evening.

“Ness, I did some really fucked up things,” You finally look up at her, she’s concentrated fully on you. She’s giving you a blank stare in response. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about it.”

She gets up from her chair and wraps her arms around you, burying her face into the crook of your neck. You begin to weep into her shoulder.

“That’s understandable,” she says, muffled. “But if you ever do need to talk about it, talk about anything, I’m always here for you, forever and always. No judgment.”

The rest of the night, the two of you start to go through the home, setting things aside to go to the donation center and other things in a separate pile that you’d like to keep. You continue talking about life, Nessa tells you about the people of the community, she tells you about her friends who she is very excited for you to meet, and she talks more about Tommy, saying she never thought she’d be able to love someone as much as she loves him.

Before you know it, the sun sets for the day, the living room area is now dimly lit by a small lamp on the table next to the couch. Nessa is fast asleep, curled up in a ball and snuggly tucked into the corner of the couch. You grab one of the clean blankets she brought over from her and Tommy’s home, shaking it out before draping it over her. For a while, you too try to sleep. The silence that fills the room stings your ears, it’s a little too quiet and you aren’t used to that. The creatures of the night have become your lullaby and without that, you can’t fall asleep.

You get up and walk over to the window that looks out the front of your house; grabbing the bottom of the window pane, you push it up, cracking it just a tiny bit. The song of the crickets quietly fills the room, you feel your body ease up. Before you turn to go back to the couch, you notice a figure approaching from the sidewalk path that leads to the main town area, you continue to stand at the window watching them while running your fingers along the paint cracks around the windowsill. When they come out from the shadows of the trees, you recognize who it is. Joel. Everything goes silent again. The moon is casting a soft light across his face; he’s walking slowly and his shoulders are rounded. You continue to watch him as he walks up his porch, disappearing once he closes his front door. What is it about him that makes you so… so stuck? You question yourself, shifting your gaze down to the windowsill which you are still picking at with your fingernail. You let out a heavy sigh, before returning to your spot at the base of the couch, throwing your head back so it rests on the firm cushion.

The next morning comes quickly. You wake up groggier than normal, a feeling of full exhaustion overcoming you once you get up from the floor. You force yourself to get up and join Nessa in the kitchen. She’s sitting at the table flipping through an old magazine. You join her in silence. This is nice, you think.

Eventually the topic of breakfast comes up as sunlight begins to illuminate the house. You insist on making something for the two of you, since Nessa made dinner last night. It’s only fair, Nessa, you plead. However, she insists on grabbing the community breakfast to go. Nessa, per usual, gets her way. As you wait for her return, you begin to go through the various drawers and cabinets in the kitchen and living room. It looks like Nessa already got a head start this morning before you even woke up.

The two piles from last night have only grown bigger.. As you continue organizing, a third pile is also created, the ‘don’t know’ pile. This one mainly consists of the personal items that belonged to the previous owners; pictures, old birthday cards, letters, etc. What do I even do with this, you think to yourself as you pull a family photo album from one of the bookshelves.

The front door knob squeaks as someone– Nessa, turns it and enters through the front door with three large paper bags in her arms.

“Breakfast has arrived,” Her tone is light and playful.

Tommy enters behind her, he’s cradling a stainless steel thermos under his arm that is free of a crutch.

“I hope you don’t mind me joining,” He says.

“Of course not,” Your sentence comes out in one single breath.

“Just didn’t know if you were sick of me or somethin’,” His back is now towards you as he sets his stuff down on the kitchen counter. Tommy looks over his shoulder at you with a smirk plastered on his face. You walk over to him and playful nudge his shoulder, returning a smile before grabbing three of the mugs that Nessa washed earlier.

You and Nessa clear off the table in the kitchen, setting the boxes and various items off to the side against the wall. The three of you take a seat and immediately start unloading your paper bags. You pull out three separate containers, the heat radiating through the sides and warming the cold tips of your fingers.

“Mmmm, ” Tommy lets out, rubbing the palms of his hands together. “My favorite.”

You peer over to him. One container has scrambled eggs with pepper scattered across the top, the smaller container has two small patties, presumably sausage patties, and the third container has mixed fruit. Before starting on his food, Tommy stands up and leans over the table, filling both yours and Nessa’s mug up with the coffee he brought.

“What are your plans for the day, ladies?” Tommy is leaning back in the chair with his arms crossed, a few bites of food remain in the containers. You look towards Nessa, who puts her finger up in the air as she finishes chewing her food.

“Just clean and finish going through the house before heading into town to donate some stuff, then probably look around to see what items they have,” Nessa responds, glancing over to you once she finishes. You nod, not having anything to add. Right now, you’re just following whatever Nessa says or does.

“That sounds like a fun day” He replies sarcastically, the corners of his lips slighting turn upward.

“Super fun,” You say softly, quickly raising your eyebrows as you take a sip of your coffee.

There's a line when you and Nessa walk up to the donation center, about ten people or so are pressed up against the side of the building trying to find a way out from the direct sunlight. When you get to the back of the line, a man who appears to be just a little bit older than you and Nessa, says the line is moving slow today and that he and his niece had been waiting for nearly half an hour already. Nessa shakes her head, striking up a conversation with the man about how ridiculous the wait times have become. You tune them out, escaping to the depths of your own thoughts.

As you’re kicking at the rocky ground, thinking about God knows what, you hear the steady trot of a horse coming up from behind. Before you can fully turn around, Joel passes by on horseback. The two of you briefly make eye contact as he continues down towards the pathway. There’s nothing of substance in the look he gives, almost as if he looked right through you. Your stomach turns. Where’s he coming from? Your mind begins to wonder before you can stop it, taking a quick look over your shoulder. No, you are supposed to be moving on, another voice takes over and scolds your original thought. You take a final kick at the ground, sending rocks flying forward, before turning to Nessa.

“Where’s he coming from?” You whisper as you lean in closer to her. As much as you don’t want to care about Joel, you’re still curious and curiosity doesn’t hurt, right? She gives you a confused look and you gesture towards the horse who is now a considerable distance away. Nessa goes on her tippy toes, looking over the crowd of people to see who you are referring to.

“Oh, Joel, ” her voice sounds dry as she speaks his name, her face twists into a semi-disgusted expression. “He does patrol, like checking the outer perimeter for any potential threats to the community, stuff like that.”

“He goes out alone?” you push the matter further, taking a step backward, creating more distance between you and Nessa. The line moves forwards, and you and Nessa both take a step forward in unison.

“Yeah, well,” Nessa purses her lips, blowing a stray piece of hair out of her face. “He’s not supposed to, but you know, he’s Joel, so… he and Tommy used to do it together, but Tommy got busy helping Maria out with stuff once the community started getting bigger, and no one else wants to accompany him.”

“Why-” You start to say, but Nessa cuts you off before you can complete your question. She’s giving you a tight-lipped smile and you cock your head off to the side, returning a confused expression. You know this look, she’s forcing a smile.

“Looks like we might be here for a while,” she says leaning up against the building’s exterior, turning away from you. When we get up there, let me do the talking, okay?”

She shoots you a wink and you purse your lips, giving her a simple nod in response.

It’s now been nearly a week since you’ve arrived, you’ve spent most of your days clearing out your home, trying to make it your own. Since your first night, you’ve only slept downstairs on the couch. The house is just too big, the creeks at night freak you out, often waking you up in the dead of the night. You’ve gone through the majority of the rooms, the children’s rooms were the hardest, you originally thought of just shutting the door, hoping to ignore them for the rest of your time living there, but eventually built up the courage to separate the clothing and toys to send off to be donated. You knew they’d be better put to use by the community than just sitting in a closed off room. There were some things that you couldn’t bear to get rid of, such as the family pictures, it felt wrong; you decided to pack them into a box and placed them in the back of one of the closets in the hall.

As you push the final box near your front door, you notice Nessa coming up the walkway to your porch. You wipe your hands on your pants, opening the door before she’s even made it up your porch. She has a bag in her hand, swinging it side to side as she walks.

“Hey stranger,” you say playfully, she greets you with a large smile as she walks through the door. Without saying anything she extends the bag towards you. When you open it up there's more clothing inside, they look nicer than just everyday clothes. “What are these for?”

“There’s a community get together tonight and you’re coming,” She sounds excited, and your face twists up at the thought of socializing. “Listen, I know that’s never been your thing, but I want you to meet my friends, I think it would do you some good meeting people.”

You toss the bag onto your couch, knowing there is no way she’s going to let you get out of going. She’s watching your face carefully, still smiling.

“Alright,” you say in a defeated tone. Nessa wraps her arms around you excitedly.

“Wow, you’ve gotten a lot done.” She pulls away, making a small circle, looking at the different visible parts of the room. She walks over to the boxes stacked by the door. “Sorry I haven’t been able to come over the past few days, they really needed an extra hand with the younger kids at the school.”

“You’ve done so much for me already,” you drag out. “I’m nearly finished, I just have to drop this stuff off at the donation building sometime.”

Nessa starts nosing her way through the boxes, lifting each flap and looking at whatever is inside. You watch her as she does so.

“If there’s anything you want, you’re more than welcome to take it.” You finally follow up with. Nessa lets out a hum before holding an article of clothing up.

“Isn’t this so sweet,” she swoons. It’s a blue and gray striped baby onesie. You try to hide your discomfort, thinking back on how difficult it was to go through the children’s bedrooms, especially the nursery.

“Yeah, I suppose,” You look down at your feet and nervously thumb at your cuticles. “Like I said, if you want it-”

“I’ll take them,” she quickly says in one continuous breath, picking up the box and balancing it on her hip. If anyone is having kids between the two of us, it will be Nessa, the bittersweet thought made you smile as she looks down at the tiny clothes with joy. “Alright, well, I’ll come and get you in a few hours then, okay?”

You watch her disappear with the box as she walks down the pathway toward her house.

The string lights that hang throughout the community illuminate the walkways. People fill the streets either going into one of two different buildings or hanging off to the sides with drinks in hand. It’s much warmer out tonight, something that signifies summer is just around the corner. As you walk, you’re in a daze, marveling at everything and everyone you pass. You begin to wonder what exactly tonight entails, Nessa didn’t go into much detail other than her friends are going to be there, but there was no doubt about how nervous you currently feel.

A group of men who appear to be around your age look at you as you walk past them, a few of them do a double take and begin to whisper amongst themselves. Your stomach drops, immediately dropping your gaze to look down at your feet. Maybe Joel will be there tonight, you hopelessly think, ultimately concluding that whatever is going on tonight, probably won’t be his kind of thing and even if he was there, he wouldn’t want to be around you.

You snap back to reality when you feel Nessa wrap her fingers around your wrist, pulling you towards a dimly lit building. Now standing on the porch, you can hear a muffled voice coming from inside. She gives you a warm smile before opening the door and pulling you in after her.

“So…” she starts, leaning in close to your ear to whisper. “This is where they play movies, it's mainly for the kids, but a lot of the parents and older people join in as well. It’s mainly old-timey, boring movies. Nothing we’d be interested in.”

Walking further into the dark space, you see the movie that is being illuminated on the large canvas sheet by a projector. There are several rows of chairs in front of the screen, from what you can tell it appears to be mainly kids sitting in them, the rest of the adults were either standing off to the sides or sitting at the tables in the back. You take a slow scan of the entire room, taking the atmosphere in. She grabs your arm again, pulling you off towards a side door, deep into the building, away from the crowd of people. You look over your shoulder once more.

“Although that is fun, the bar is where the real fun is at,” Nessa has her back against the door, facing you. She’s smiling as she turns the handle with one of her hands. “This is where my friends and I usually hang out, it’s mostly young adults and single middle-aged men… but it’s fun, I promise.”

Groups of people are sitting at tables with drinks playing card games, others playing pool at the table in the middle, and darts off to the side. It was a lot rowdier here, both the music and people’s conversations were loud. As you and Nessa weaved your way through the tables, you noticed people were turning their heads in your direction, some of them turning to whisper something to the person next to them. A heat washed over you, a knot growing in your stomach. The room suddenly felt as if it was on fire. The sound of Nessa’s voice pulls out from your anxious mindset.

“Speaking of my friends,” she spoke cheekily, slapping her hand lightly on the table the two of you just walked up to. “This is Aimee, Heather, Drew, and… James who you already briefly met.”

James instantly stands up from his chair, his eyes are wide as you two make eye contact. He’s holding his hand out to shake your hand. He seems a lot different than when you interacted with him earlier, now he appears to be more at ease.

“It’s nice to officially meet you,” He leans in so you can hear his voice over the noise.

“You too,” you shout back at him as you retract your hand.

James pulls out the chair next to him, gesturing for you to sit down. You’re somewhat surprised by his friendliness.

The other three aren’t quite as welcoming, Aimee and Heather stare at you with sly smirks plastered across their faces, looking at you up and down as you awkwardly smile at them. Drew is snickering at the other two girls, trying to cover his mouth with his hand, however, his shaking body and beet-red face give it away instantly. Suddenly, he stiffly shoots up from his chair, reaching over the table with his hand extended towards you.

“Yep, it sure is nice to meet you,” He mocks James, who is watching him with his mouth agape in awe. James rolls his eyes, turning his body away from the group, propping his head up with his hand. You uncomfortably shift in your chair, and hesitantly bring your hand from underneath the table up to shake Drew’s hand.

“You too,” you say so quietly you doubt anyone heard, you barely said it loud enough for yourself to hear. You give him a loose, short-lived handshake, before bringing your hand back underneath the table and rubbing your sweaty palms against the rough fabric of your jeans.

“They’re messing around,” Nessa leans in and shouts in your ear. You raise your eyebrows as she pulls back and gives her a single nod. Fucking assholes, you think as you look around the room, scrunching your nose. In your sitting position, you can’t see much other than the people standing and the other tables around you.

Nessa and the others immediately get lost in a conversation, you let your eyes continue to wander around, looking at the metal signs and license plates that lined the walls, and the string lights that lit up the room. The sound of the scratchy music comforted you, although it was quite loud. At some point, James brings you over a drink, and you all clink your glasses together. You feel uncomfortable being here. It is not because you’re new or because you were never really much of a social person, Nessa’s friends, apart from James, attributed to this discomfort.

“I’m going to go grab a round for the table,” Nessa put her hand on your shoulder and pushed herself up. The two of you made eye contact, your eyes pleading ‘Please don’t leave me alone with these people.’ She must’ve not picked up on the urgency in your eyes, or maybe she didn’t think it was urgent, because she quickly turned away and disappeared in the crowd.

“So, you were out there with Joel?” Heather shouts over the table in a thick, fake southern accent, giving a devilish smile to Drew and Aimee. James’ face tightens at the sound of Joel’s name. Before responding, you look toward the direction Nessa went, hoping she’d magically appear and take over the conversation. Your mouth suddenly became dry.

“Yeah… and Tommy, but yeah,” You respond, sort of confused as to where this was going.

“ And, how was it?” She shot back, her face conveyed some sort of innocence, but her eyes told a completely different story.

“He’s super fucking weird huh?” Aimee adds, causing Drew to choke on his drink, he covers his mouth with the glass to hide his smile. You draw your brows together, slightly puzzled and looking between everyone at the table.

“ Aimee,” Heather shouts sharply and hardens her eyes. Aimee recoils at the sudden hostility in Heather’s voice, crossing her arms and slouching. Heather turns her attention back toward you, not saying anything, just cocking her head as if she was urging you to answer the question.

“I mean, not really,” You say slowly and scoffing.

“Oh , wait,” Heather gasps, the whole table is now looking at her, her gasp even piquing James’ curiosity. “You're not, like, his girlfriend are you?”

Aimee lightly hits her arm, laughing in the process and Drew grabs onto Aimee’s arm, his face going red again. You feel a heat of anger wash over you.

“Would it be a problem if I was?” You spit back. The sly remarks remind you of high school, something you were never too fond of, and with Joel being the subject of the talk, it made your blood boil.

“Heather-” James starts, tightening his grip on his glass, his knuckles turning white and blood pooling in his fingertips under the pressure.

“James… what? He’s a drunk and freaks everyone the fuck out, shouldn’t we warn our new friend about him,” James straightens his posture, his jaw tightening as he shifts his eyes in the opposite direction of her. You follow his gaze and realize Nessa is standing behind you, she has a smile plastered on her face and her cheeks are stained pink. She lets out a loud sigh.

“I just wish he’d stop coming back,” she says loud enough for everyone to hear, setting down the drinks in the center of the round table. You furrow your brows in confusion. She what? “I can’t believe Maria keeps allowing him back in, I mean, I know it’s Tommy who’s convincing her but damn, you’d think she’d put her foot down eventually.”

You abruptly shoot up from your chair, the chair bumping into the person behind you. The whole table as well as the other people around you are now staring, not saying a thing. Heather and Aimee are both trying to hide their giggles, putting their hands over their mouths and grabbing at each other. Your eyesight narrows and you give Nessa a disappointed look before turning away from the table and walking towards the bar.

“Looks like Joel-y found ‘imself a girlfriend,” you hear faintly as you take a few steps away from the table, a tall man is blocking you from going anywhere.

“Makes sense,” says another.

You swiftly turn around, wanting to tell them off, how could someone be so horrible, you think. One of the girls, you think it’s Heather, makes eye contact with you and points. Everyone except James, who has his head in the palms of his hands, looks at you. Nessa gives you a look of desperation.

“She just doesn’t get it guys, she’s been through a lot… and doesn’t know how Joel really is yet, like all she knows is him and Tommy, so…” she explains, you roll your eyes and begin pushing against the tall man’s back, trying to squeeze past him.

As you push through the crowd, your head is becoming heavier and heavier by the second and your vision is starting to blur around the edges. You can feel the thickness in your chest as you breathe. When you finally make it through, your eyes focus on one particular secluded seat, far away from everyone else.

You rush over to the seat, keeping your eyes locked on it. When you take a seat you immediately put your face in the palms of your hands. A mixture of embarrassment and anger surges through your body. You felt overwhelmed from the moment you stepped into the bar, and the situation with Nessa’s friends made it worse. Everything in the room seems to be louder than it is- the music, people talking, it’s all unnecessary noise. Your head begins to feel fuzzy, you can feel your body wobbling on the barstool and grab the edge to stabilize yourself.

You hear a muffled voice, but you're too trapped in your internal panic to make out what they’re saying, you can’t get yourself to even move your head in the direction it came from. Your chest rises deeply and then falls quickly. Focusing on the rugged grains of the wooden surface of the bar, your vision begins to become sporadic, with black splotches emerging and dancing around. You feel yourself wobble once again, this time your hand slips as you attempt to grab onto something.

You suddenly feel a hand loop around your waist from the person sitting next to you, pulling you towards them as your body begins to tilt off to the side. You go to say something but stop when you realize it's Joel. As you straighten your posture, he lets his hand drop, returning it to his glass. He looks concerned. You can feel a sense of relief wash over you, his eyes melting into yours; every nerve in your body instantly becomes calm.

“Are you okay?” He seems genuine when he speaks, his eyebrows slightly raising as he leans in closer to you.

read chapter nine here!

painting divider | credit: @cottage-writings

#farmerlarrry #joel miller #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x oc #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you

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imagines-by-cleo · 2 years ago

Note

I hope your illness gets better soon!! This is my first time requesting, and sorry my English is bad. It is not my native language.

I really like Miller from MGSV. So, I’m so happy that you write about him! Can I request a fic that the reader walks into Miller drinking alone, and he being drunk accidentally confesses to the reader?

Please take your time. Get well soon, and I hope you have a nice day🤗

Thank you so much friend! It's so nice to hear you enjoy my fics and it's great to get back into writing with these requests, I am grateful for every single one of them!

This ended up being super long and super fluffy but I had fun writing (cause omg I love Kaz) it and I think you'll like it too, idk if you wanted smut but that's what I wrote and if you want to avoid it you can stop after the page divider. I'm finishing these requests slow but I swear I am finishing them and I'm trying to make them worth the wait. I appreciate your patience but most of all I appreciate the time everyone takes to read these.

CW: Alcohol, whump, fluff, consent is sexy, nipple play, fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), masturbation, dirty talk, unprotected sex

The overwhelming stench of warm sake filled your nose before you even opened the door to Miller's office, telling you exactly how you were going to spend the rest of the night. As you stepped in you found the room covered in a cloud of smoke from a kiseru pipe while music from at least a decade prior played loudly.

"Master Miller?" You called, though he didn't answer.

There he was sitting behind his desk in a daze, half here and half in the 70s, not even noticing your presence until you snuck over and turned the record player off. Grabbing a nearby wastebin you made short work of clearing out the many bottles around the room, one of which was still in his hand as he tried to pour the last few drops directly into his mouth.

"We should get some tequila shipped in." He mused.

"We had some. You drank it." You said a little too bluntly, but he probably wouldn't remember if you were being rude.

"One time... Back in MSF I had to much tequila and... I don’t really remember but the guys told me they had to get me down from a table and put my pants back on." His expression would change every time he trailed off from looking like he could cry to trying not to bust out laughing, but it was nice to see a twinkle in those clouded blue eyes.

You held in a snicker while you listened, it might have been nice to see Kaz in his party days but you're sure you would have to do the same thing you did now only you would have to wrestle his pants back on and he would have two more limbs to fight you off with.

Speaking of, you looked around for his crutch but couldn't find it anywhere, it had a funny way of disappearing when Kaz was drinking. With a sigh you walked up to his chair and grabbed his arm to stand him up, he leaned into you when you put his arm around your shoulder to walk him out.

"Wait a minute." He held a finger up, then pointed it at the desk where his sunglasses were sitting, prompting you to take them and gently put them on his face before leaving.

"Happy now?" You asked, only getting a hum in response.

It was becoming routine to help him out like this, normally you didn't think twice about it but tonight there was something about the heat coming from his body and the faint sweet smell of smoke carried in his clothes that made you realize how intimate the situation was. It was somewhat against protocol to be this close with a commanding officer but maybe it had the potential to become more than that. It was hard to admit now, but that was part of the reason you came here tonight. Only you couldn't really ask him about his feelings while he was completely wasted, the least you could do was make sure he was taken care of.

Putting the thought away as you left his office you headed toward his room, it wasn’t far but it felt much longer with an entire man slumped over your shoulder. While you were struggling Kaz was having the time of his life, humming a song and occasionally mumbling the words out of tune.

When you got to his room you found it was both bare and a complete mess. No pictures or anything to decorate the dull grey walls, clothes were thrown haphazardly on the floor and unmade bed and the only window had blackout curtains drawn closed. You stepped carefully through the mess, trying not to let yourself or Kaz trip on anything that had been left around.

This was the first time you had actually been inside since he would stagger back in alone once you got him this far but tonight he had been drinking too much to even do that. Its not that it was any of your business, but after discovering how he lived you started to get worried.

"Hey, I noticed you've been drinking more since the Boss brought home those MSF soldiers that were wandering around. I hope it's not bringing back any unpleasant memories." You pointed out figuring your best shot at getting clarification was while he was like this.

For a minute as he got quiet you were worried he was about to get angry at you, but to your surprise he answered honestly. "No, they're good memories. But that's all they are."

Deciding not to press the issue further, you changed the subject. "Let's get you to bed."

"You take such good care of me, that's why I love you." He laughed.

"Yeah, right." You replied, it was a strange thing for him to say but you chalked it up to him being drunk.

Sliding out from under his arm you proceeded to stand him up carefully as he swayed side to side, pulling his coat off quickly before he tipped over completely without your help. A blush rose on your cheeks when you unbuttoned his shirt, maybe it wasn't completely necessary but you didn't want him just falling asleep in it. Hesitating a moment when you reached for his glasses, once you uncovered his eyes you noticed how they had been fixed on you as if he was looking for something.

"What is it?" You asked.

The hand threading into your hair and cradling the back of your head caught you off guard, before you knew it Kaz' lips were on yours. The taste of sake was still strong and his mouth was so warm, you put your hands on his broad chest but couldn't find the strength to push him back. He pulled away just to continue across your jaw and behind your ear, you shuddered at the feeling, wishing you could just give in to it.

"Kaz, wait." You interrupted.

He stopped almost immediately but he stayed where he was, whispering his confession into your ear. "I meant it."

"You're drunk." You replied, pushing him into a seated position on the bed.

"Come here." He told you before dragging you down onto his lap, his poor balance causing the two of you to fall back onto the mattress together.

His body fit perfectly against yours while he kissed you again, it felt so natural to have him hold you like this that you were tempted to just give in. The groan he made when he rolled his hips up into you vibrated through your whole body, making you gasp in response after feeling the hard bulge that pressed into your thigh.

You lifted yourself up and looked down at him, pushing a golden strand of hair away from his pink face revealing his half lidded eyes that locked with yours.

"We can't do this." You sighed, climbing off the bed. "Not tonight."

He grabbed your hand before you walked away, so he could request. "Stay with me at least?"

Staring at the door, you contemplated what you should do before answering. "I'll stay until you fall asleep."

A low snore from behind told you that would be sooner than you thought, you turned and found Kaz was already fast alseep. You smacked your palm to face in frustration, more upset with yourself for expecting anything different.

Did that bastard really just confess his love to you and then pass out drunk? At the very least you knew you had made the right decision to turn him down for now anyway, but this was going to make for a delicate situation the next day if he even remembered half of what happened. How would you even go about explaining it to him, and would he expect a reaction from you?

With a tired groan you looked around the room for something to tidy up and keep you busy while you pushed the important questions off until tomorrow.

An all to bright ray of sunlight shining straight onto his face woke Kaz up, muttering curses he squeezed his eyes shut while reaching for his glasses on the nightstand. He knew exactly where they were though he didn't remember setting them there, come to think of it he didn't even remember how he got into his room last night but he wasn't inclined to think too hard about it now.

He sat up slowly to not irritate his throbbing head or aching body, leaning on the wall as he staggered into the bathroom. There was a bottle of water and some seltzer waiting on the sink, he didn't bother to question who put it there, as far as he was concerned it was a gift from God.

After chugging his drink and splashing some water on his face Kaz stared in the mirror, questioning the actions that put him here once again, but all the regret in the world wasn't going to change the fact that he was going to have to get dressed sooner or later. Instinctively he looked around the floor for his clothes finding they were all gone, someone had neatly folded yesterday's clothes and set them on his dresser while the rest were put in the drawers. There wasn't much he remembered about the night before but he was damn sure he didn't do any of that and before he could wonder how they got there he heard a stirring across the room.

Kaz nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned to find you sleeping curled up in an armchair. Knowing you had been there all night answered the question of why his room was so clean, but he was starting to feel guilty for having brought you here in the first place.

He came up to you as quietly as possible, you looked kinda cute, laying there with the sun shining on your messed up hair as you softly snored. Kaz found himself wishing he woke up next to this in his bed rather than across the room. He watched for a minute noticing the way you had your arms wrapped around your body, you must have been cold, immediately he went to grab a blanket from his bed and draped it gently over you. A satisfied smile rose on his face while he watched you snuggle into the warmth, his hand lingered on your shoulder after tucking you in. Slowly your eyes fluttered open, still hazed and tired as you looked up at him.

"Did you get that water I left for you?" You asked.

"Yeah, I did." He answered, he should have figured that was from you.

"That's good." You replied while yawning, wiggling around to get comfortable. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I don't know why you're still worried about me." He laughed, it was strange the way you looked after him when all he could really do was bring you a blanket.

"Someone has to be." You answered, rubbing your eyes and makeing the dark circles under them more apparent. "Besides, you were pretty wasted last night."

"Right, I must have kept you up pretty late. Why don't you take my bed and get some rest?" He requested, reachingout to you. "Do it for me."

Kaz led you over to the bed just a few feet away while you staggered over half awake without even questioning him. He tucked you in again before turning to leave and get ready for for his day if it wasn't too late.

"I don't know why you stayed here and went through all this trouble." He mumbled, more to himself than anything.

"You told me to stay last night." You answered, to his surprise.

"I hope that's all I told you." He laughed.

"Well there was one thing..." You continued, sitting up, the words sendinga chill down his spine. "You made a move on me, you kissed me actually."

Kaz really shouldn't have been surprised, he knew he had feelings for you since the day he met you but he wasn't about to tell anyone. It was only a matter of time until something slipped out, especially when you were around so much. He spent those few precious seconds of silence racking his brain to try and remember what exactly he said and more importantly how to respond.

"It was kinda nice knowing you felt the same way, but I wish you'd told me when you weren't drinking; or maybe when we both were." You shrugged, looking up at him in this sweet innocent way that he just couldn't stand.

"Listen..." He started, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "I appreciate everything you've done, in fact I'm in more debt to you than I like to think about, but don't you think you'd be better off spending your time doing something else? With someone else?"

"I like spending time with you." You answered, reaching for his hand. "And I don't mind helping out every now and then."

"I don't deserve someone like you taking care of me." He confessed, it felt harsh coming out but he couldn't just let you keep doing this.

He wasn't expecting you to say anything after that, much less turn his face toward you and kiss him. It was his last chance to push you away but he wanted you more than he should have and let you come closer.

When you broke off you whispered "Please, don't talk about yourself like that."

It was a little jarring to have you showing him affection like that, every nice thing you did confused him and he always felt guilty for wanting more but he never thought he was more than a burden to you. Knowing you really felt for him changed everything, and his heart pounded as he allowed himself to be vulnerable for just once.

You crawled over, straddling his lap before taking his sunglasses off. He wrapped his arm around you while you shared a deep and thoughtful stare for a good long while.

"I love seeing your eyes." You broke the silence.

He just had to kiss you after that, holding you tighter while his lips moved softly against yours. For a brief moment he felt your tongue touch his bottom lip, inviting him to to take the opportunity and explore your mouth with his own. He slid his tongue in deep and fast making you moan in surprise before simply allowing him free access to taste you. You pressed your chest into his without breaking the kiss, taking his hand and guiding it under your shirt to touch between your breasts and for a second he could feel your heart beating fast.

Circling one nipple with his thumb, he felt it perk up in his hand until it was stiff, that made it much easier to pinch and tease making you twitch in his grasp. He lifted your shirt up higher so he could pop the other nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and gently sucking.

While he was playing with your tits you unbuttoned your pants, doing your best to pull one leg out of them without climbing off his lap. Pushing him away just for a moment to take his shirt off before pulling him back against your chest, running your fingers through his messy hair while he continued.

Your other hand drifted down, exploring his chest and anywhere else that you could. Then you reached for his boxers, tugging at the waistband before he caught your hand by the wrist.

"Not so fast, it's my turn to take care of you." Kaz stopped you, he would have loved to get out of that increasingly tight fabric but he had plans fo you first.

"But I wanna-" You whined.

He cut you off. "Do I have to pull the commanding officer card?"

You giggled. "Maybe."

"Alright. Spread your legs as far as you can. That's an order." He told you before tugging your pants the rest of the way down, and your panties along with it.

Starting by running his hand across your folds, making sure you were good and wet before he teased your entrance. Sliding a single finger in and out slowly, he pulled it all the way out before stuffing it back in as far as it would go then curling it inside you.

"Ah! Do that again!" You cried out, prompting him to go faster.

You held on to his shoulders, leaning in to kiss his neck between desperate pants. Kaz sighed at the soft touch of your wet lips and the warmth of your quick breaths. Pressing the heel of his palm against your clit made you roll your hips into him. It wasn't long until he had you cumming all over his hand and squeezing his fingers tight, your whole body shaking as you gripped him tighter to keep your balance.

After your last few spasms he fell back onto the soft sheets, kneading his fingers into your thigh and guiding you to climb over until you were straddling his face. It was like you read his mind when you lowered yourself onto his lips, and he wasted no time licking up every drop of wetness that dribbled out of you. He groaned at the sweet sticky flavor of you, reaching his tongue into your core and swirling it around to taste more.

Taking notice of how your legs would flex and shake around him, he also noiticed he couldn't hear you making any kind of noise. Pausing and looking up he noticed you were bitting down hard on your bottom lip, most likely in an effort to keep quiet.

"Hey! Don't hold back. Let me hear it." Kaz ordered, slapping the inside of your thigh.

Moaning immediately in response you didn't hold anything back, even when the sounds you made weren't so dignified. Though every little noise from you went straight to his crotch and he could feel himself twitching in his boxers that were starting to get just a little too tight. It was hard not to get off with a sense of pride when he made you cum once with his fingers and again into his mouth, if you weren't completely numb yet you would have felt him grining like a maniac against your sensitive skin.

It was easy enough to toss you over onto your back, you were putty in his hands while he pushed your legs apart and situated your body just how he needed it. The whole time you looked at him with this hungry half lidded gaze, something more sensual than anything you'd see in a magazine.

"Haven't had enough yet?" He teased, making you shake your head.

The front of his boxers were a tented mess, his swollen cock leaking and begging to be touched. Kaz couldn't help bit give it a few strokes before he lined it up, throwing his head back in relief of finally getting some stimulation. The thought crossed his mind to just keep pumping and finish all over you, but something told him he could make you cum one more time.

Climbing over you and starting slow, only giving your overstimulated pussy few inches at a time. You made a low whine that made his cock twitch when his entire length was inside, you lifted your knees up to your chest, welcoming him in deeper.

Everything about you at this point was a dripping mess, and Kaz loved it. From the way your hair was tossed to the dazed look in your eyes, and how your tits still wet with his spit would heave with every breath. Having you bucking up into him still desperate as all hell was just cherry on top.

"Never thought I'd see you like this." He remarked.

"Get used to it." You teased between moans.

Every move he made seemed to elicit some new decadent reaction, the way you were gasping and moaning under him like he was taking the very air out of your lungs made his heart pound. He could only deduce that you were about to cum again and he adjusted accordingly, with a few harsh targeted thrusts that rattled the bed beneath you he had you babbling his name one last time while your thighs twitched and eventually went limp.

He was trying to keep his weight off of you by staying propped up on his arm, until you hooked your arms under his shoulders and pulled him down closer to you. Closing what little distance you had between the two of you had him sinking in even deeper, making him groan at the feeling of being completely engulfed by you.

"You feel so good." He panted, picking up the pace. "You're gonna make me..."

Kaz was about to pull out before you wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping him locked inside until it was too late. The warmth of your body burning him up and the sound of his wet skin hitting yours was getting to be more than he could handle. Pushing into you with a last few shallow thrusts, his pulse was racing and he even felt his knees twitch while he emptied inside of you.

There was no way of telling how long the two of you sat like that, he couldn't move or even think and you were still holding onto him for dear life. When he did eventually get some control back he kissed you deeply, only breaking of to suck in a little bit of air before pressing his mouth to yours again. When he pulled away you reached up and pushed the hair away from his face so you could see his eyes, not saying anything but but simply sharing a deep moment.

"I hope you weren't planning on walking anywhere today." He teased, still out of breath.

"You're lucky it's my day off." You replied.

"I guess I am pretty lucky." He chided, rolling off of you.

Something sharp poked into his side making him jump, he reached to see what the object was only to find his sunglasses now bent out of shape. Before he could even curse about it you took them out of his hand and put them on, making him laugh at the lopsided lenses only covering half your face.

"I guess you're not going anywhere without these." You commented.

"It's already too late to get work done anyway." He remarked.

"Oh no, we'll just have to stay in our big comfy bed for the rest of the day." You teased, voice dripping with sarcasm while you laid your head on his chest.

"That doesn't sound too bad." He laughed, wrapping his harm around you.

Laying there together, watching the sun rise higher outside and forgeting about work one soft sigh at a time. It was more than Kaz could have hoped for when he woke up with a hangover. He wasn't sure what he did to deserve this, but he'd have to figure it out so it could happen again.

"Hey..." You broke the silence when you looked up at him grinning. "Tell me that story about you getting drunk in MSF and taking your pants off."

"Wha- Who told you about that?" He stammered.

"You did." He should have known.

"Right, well anyway. This was back when we first got to Costa Rica and we found this little cantina by..."

While Kaz continued his story he thought about how he would normally feel about the old days, using the the anger he felt at the loss of his home and his comrades as a reason to go on and seek vengeance. All his life now was just looking in the past and only going forward to try and find a way to restore it, until now he felt that was the only way. Maybe it was time for a change. Hearing you laugh and smile at his stupid stories made him realize there was a possibility of a future and a new home, and it was all right in front of him.

#kazuhira miller #kazuhira miller x reader #metal gear solid #mgsv #mgsv kaz #mgs fanfiction #mgs fanfic #mgs x reader

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wonda-fhr · 1 year ago

Text

Today is Justin's birthday.🥰🥳

Thanks for thinking of him @m3k-fhr 😘

He hasn't had a real happy moment yet. But gradually I might be able to nudge my complicated boy in that direction. At least for a little while. It's his birthday, so he's treating himself with a little gift of closeness. --- Cozy secrets

No one had announced their arrival, and he wasn't expecting any packages, so the doorbell surprised both Chen and Spoon.

A glance at the small monitor told Chen who was at his door, but it did not lessen his surprise. He opened the door and saw Justin's smiling face.

"Hey, can you spare some time for me?"

He held the crutches that still supported him on long walks in one arm, with a shopping bag hanging from it. The scars were professionally covered as usual, but the garish makeup and colorful accents in his hair were missing. Nothing to distract from his beautiful green eyes. Even his clothes were almost colorless by his standards. Chen's brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of the unexpected visitor.

"Sure." He took the bag and invited him into his home with a welcoming gesture.

"Do I look so bad that you're speechless?" Justin greeted Spoon, who circled him happily.

The milk and books he could see inside didn't help Chen's perplexity as he set the bag down on a chair. Nosy probing wouldn't help him, pushing Justin was never a good idea. He stole a quick kiss before breaking his silence. "The lack of color is unusual, I love it, you look stunning. I'm not quite sure what to make of this unscheduled visit."

"I know. You said you had the afternoon off and...", he hesitated for a moment, seemingly unable to find the right words, which was almost rarer than seeing his face without any bright colors. "We've been kissing for a while, right? You've trusted me, even if I was only forced to trust you. You've seen a lot of me, you've been there for me, but you don't really know anything about me, do you? Do you think we could pretend for one afternoon that not everything around us is a mess?"

"I'm sure we could do that." Even the pleasant prospect of an afternoon together didn't make Chen relax. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more important at stake than a little time together and couldn't keep his eyes from wandering curiously through the bag once more.

"You're welcome to unpack it, it's not ... well, yeah, there are secrets in there somehow. A little peek behind the curtain."

Curious, Chen spread out the contents of the bag on the table, Justin watching him, not only at his hands for sure. In front of him were four books, classical literature and poetry, milk, a tin of tea and another tin of what looked like homemade cookies. Nothing he would have expected to find in a bag of the volatile paradise bird until today.

"You're not alone in thinking that. Nobody would expect that in my bag. I like to read, I love classic literature. I have a weakness for a good cup of tea with a little milk, and even though I'm not much of a cook, I like to bake. These secrets are even better kept than the tattoos or my armor."

Chen turned to him and tried to make sense of the new information. So many questions came to his mind that he had to filter them to find one that was important enough to ask.

"I like this secret. Why are you showing it to me?"

"Because it's lonely not to be able to share it. I've never been able to lie in someone's arms and read, or maybe even read to someone. I've never baked for someone and enjoyed the result with them over a cup of tea. I would love to experience that before my life falls apart for the next time." The unusually honest and sad expression in his eyes was more appealing than any glamorous fake smile that he had seen from Justin.

"It's a pleasure to have you trust me to be that person for you." He gently pulled Justin close, letting his hands rest in his open palms, his fingers circling the underside of his wrists. Then he kissed him lightly, pleased to see that there was no flinching or hesitation. "Then I'll make some tea and we make it cozy together?"

With a shy smile on his lips, Justin nodded, then took Chen's cheeks in his hands and looked directly at him. "And if you could manage to hold me without caging me, I might like to stay for a while."

"I think I can manage that," Chen said, smiling fondly.

Justin seemed to freeze for a moment, then wrapped his arms around Chen's neck, clinging to him more tightly than ever. Chen felt him shiver, but as he wrapped his arms around him protectively, he quickly relaxed in his embrace.

#justin rosedale #steelstep #fhr sidestep #happy birthday justin #i am sorry that i sent you alone into this world my sweet one #you have the hardest time of all #stay strong we'll get through this together

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 3 years ago

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Words: 5,148 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan Warnings: references to physical abuse, mentions of alcohol Summary: Y/N finally sees the extent of the injury to her leg and the two continue to grow more comfortable around each other. Y/N teaches Daryl to cook. A/N: Ya'll. There is so. much. softness. in this chapter. Enjoy! And also... sorry not sorry about the—you know what? I'm not even gonna say the word. I'll just prepare for frustrated responses lmao

This is part of a series! Read the other parts at the links below! Dead of Winter Part 1 - Frozen Part 2 - Frost Part 3 - Sleep Part 4 - Dazed Part 5 - Lost Part 6 - Found Part 7 - Hurt Part 8 - Build

Your name: submit What is this?

Daryl finished your crutches sometime after midnight and retired to try and grab a few hours of sleep. When he woke again, it was still dark out and you were curled up tightly on the couch still, with the exception of your injured leg which was still stretched out and propped on a pillow. He thought you looked like you were cold, so he stoked the fire, stirring the coals and reviving it into a happy blaze. He grabbed the blanket off the back of a nearby chair and hesitated with it in his hands for a moment before he covered you over with it. He was just pulling it up over your shoulder when you suddenly startled awake with a small gasp and grabbed onto his hand tightly, blinking and seemingly trying to remember where you were.

When you looked up and saw Daryl’s blue eyes you released your hold on him quickly. “Oh—sorry,” you said a little breathlessly. You looked a little stunned, your eyes wide.

He shook his head and let go of the blanket he’d draped over you. “S’alright… M’sorry. I didn’t mean to wake ya,” he drawled softly, straightening up.

You licked your lips nervously. “I don’t think you did—not really.” You propped yourself up on your elbow. “I was dreaming…” About Brian. Though you didn’t say so. Daryl watched you struggling to sit up and moved closer again to help you. “Thanks,” you murmured. Your whole body ached. You rubbed your hands over your face and sighed.

“How’re ya doin’?” Daryl asked, stepping back around the coffee table to warm his back by the fire.

“Umm… I’m okay. Sore,” you admitted. “I think I could use a hot bath,” you mused. You hadn’t bathed since the grizzly attack and you still hadn’t seen the complete extent of the damage. You were quite sure you were a mess. “Probably should change the bandages again too,” you said, resting a hand over your leg. “Clean up.”

Daryl nodded and grabbed your newly completed crutches from where he’d leaned them up next to the hearth. He brought them over to you. “Try ‘em out. Ain’t anythin’ fancy but… hopefully ya can get around a little more on your own. ‘M sure ya dun wanna just rely on me.” He helped you to your feet and you took a few exploratory strides, Daryl following you cautiously in case you started to waver.

Your ribs ached. Actually, everything ached, but at least you could get around. You nodded at him and gave him a small but grateful smile. “Thank you. This will really help.”

He nudged his nose up in a nod, chewing on his bottom lip a little nervously. “Ya. O’ course. Uhh—how ya gonna keep that leg mostly dry? Probably shouldn’t soak those stitches.”

“Oh. Uhhh… right…” You glanced toward the kitchen. “Hmm. There’s some plastic wrap in the kitchen. I guess I could wrap it up like leftovers,” you said with a wry laugh.

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod. “My arm got broken once when I was a kid. My mom would put the cast in a plastic bag. Felt a little ridiculous but at least I could clean up.”

You smiled at him. “How’d you break your arm?”

His face flushed a little pink and he shook his head. “Uhh… can’t remember,” he murmured. “I’ll get that plastic for ya.” He exited for the kitchen and you could hear him opening and closing cabinets and drawers until he came back with the wrap in hand. “Just… be careful. Don’ fall. Last thing ya need is another bruise,” he drawled.

“Yeah, tell me about it. Hey—dig around in that freezer and pull out a couple elk steaks to thaw,” you said. “We can cook a real meal tonight. Start your chef training,” you said with a small smile.

Daryl stared at you and felt his stomach grumbling already. “Elk steaks? …Ya kiddin’?”

You laughed and your face lit up with it. It was good to see that. Daryl didn’t think you’d genuinely laughed since you’d found out about Brian and he found his heart quickening at the sight and sound for some inexplicable reason. “Nope. Not kidding. I’d say you’ve earned them and much more.” You cast a final glance at him and hobbled your way into your bedroom, moving through to the bathroom immediately and shutting the door softly behind you.

You made your way over to the bathtub and turned the water on as hot as you could stand it. It swirled in the basin, looking almost icy blue in the low light. You leaned the crutches up against the counter and found that your hands were shaking as you looked at yourself in the mirror, finally summoning enough courage to grasp the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head. The rest of your clothes followed until they were all in a soft pile. The pants had been a bit of a challenge as you tried to avoid all the injuries on your legs, though really it was more like half a pair of pants.

Your reflection revealed things to be worse than you had expected. The cursory look beneath your clothes while you were still in bed hadn’t shown you the abrasions and bruising all across your back. You weren’t entirely sure what that was from, but hard contact with the ground and rocks beneath the snow seemed likely. The grizzly had thrashed you around as you alternately fought for your life and played dead. And you still had yet to look under the bandage at the most substantial damage. You decided to save that for after your bath. Maybe when you were feeling a bit better it wouldn’t seem so terrifying.

You felt a bit ridiculous as you wrapped the plastic tightly over the bandage on your right leg, but sinking into the hot bath was all you wanted in that moment. After thorough and tight wrapping, you hopped your way over to the tub and sank down carefully on the edge, swinging one leg over, followed by the injured one, assisted with both of your hands. You carefully perched your bad leg on the edge of the tub and lowered yourself into the hot water, igniting aches and pains in your bruised body. As the water swallowed you up, tingles rose up your spine and you settled back against the cold porcelain, feeling every bruise and cut anew as the heat washed over you. But soon, the pain subsided and you were blanketed in a surreal feeling of relaxation.

Your positioning was a bit awkward as you tried to keep your leg as dry as possible, but it still was renewing and soothing as you soaked in the water. You grabbed the wash cloth you’d set out and poured on a healthy amount of soap, working it into a lather on your skin, scrubbing at every nick and cut, fingers running over each bruise. You scrubbed shampoo through your hair and washed away the matted blood that remained, wincing as you found tender spots and bumps you didn’t know were there.

You soaked for a long time, willing your muscles to relax and relinquish the tight hold they seemed to have on your bones. By the time you were ready to climb out, the water was cool and a warm towel seemed more inviting. It was only then that you realized a substantial flaw in this whole relaxing plan; getting up and out of a slippery tub with only one leg and a sore, aching, weaker than usual body. You stared at the edge of the deep tub above you and it suddenly seemed insurmountable. Fuck.. Your injured leg was still propped up along the edge, and you attempted to push yourself up to sit on it, swinging your legs over, but each movement sent a rocketing pain through your ribs and bruised spine and you sunk back into the water defeated. Your heart started to race. Even if you wanted to just say fuck it, suck up the pain, and try to power through climbing out, your body refused to hold your own weight. You were stuck in the goddamn bathtub and the only way you were getting out without hurting yourself further was with help. You squeezed your eyes shut, kicking yourself for not opting for the shower, and leaned your head back against the coolness of the tile. How. Fucking. Stupid. Just as you were further pondering your predicament you heard a gentle knock at the door.

“Hey, uhh—everythin’ alrigh’? Just—just checkin’ on ya,” Daryl’s voice, sounding nervous about intruding, came through the door.

“Um. Sort of…” you called back, rubbing a hand over your face in frustration. You felt a shiver wrack through you as the water temperature continued to cool. You pulled the drain plug and the water began to swirl down quickly.

There was a pause. “…what’s ‘sort of’ mean?” he pressed.

“Well… the bath was great, but um…” The rest sounded so stupid in your head you weren’t even sure you could say it out loud.

Another pause.

“Ya—ya need help? Are ya okay?” He sounded even more anxious now, and also worried.

Fuck my life. “Um… I’m okay. I just—I’m sort of… too weak to get out of the tub without hurting myself.”

Outside the door, Daryl gulped and rubbed a hand over the scruff along his jaw and on his chin. “…What d’ya need?”

“Just—gimme a second,” you said. The water finished draining and you thanked yourself for setting your towel out on the edge of the tub. You hurriedly wrapped it tightly around yourself. “Okay… um, could you—could you come in and just help me up and—and then I should be able to climb out, I think.”

Daryl anxiously bit the inside of his cheek. This was… awkward. Was he—were you… He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, sure. Uhh—ya want me to shut my eyes or somethin’, err…”

“Oh,” you blurted out, realizing you really hadn’t specified. “No, it’s okay. I’ve got a towel. You can come in,” you clarified in a hurry. Poor guy thought he was going to walk in on you butt naked. Still, even in just a towel, you felt your face flushing as the door knob turned and he stepped in.

The room was balmy, steam hanging in the air and obscuring the mirror as Daryl walked in nervously. You were sitting up in the tub, hugging the towel around yourself tightly, your cheeks glowing pink, though whether it was from the hot water or a blush he didn’t know. “Hey. Ya okay? Ya didn’t fall or nothin’ tryin’ to get out didya?” You shook your head and he looked somewhat relieved.

“No. I just—I guess I’m still a bit weaker than I expected.”

He nodded. “Ya lost a lot of blood. I mean, shit… ya fought with a damn grizzly.” He was trying not to gawk at you, but you looked small as you were crouched in the tub, your arms wrapped tightly around the cotton of the towel. Your wet hair was clinging to your neck in places and sending droplets of water down to roll along your skin in others. Your bare shoulders and collarbone were peppered with deep bruises he hadn’t been able to see before. He pulled his eyes away and grabbed your crutches from where they were leaning against the counter. He rested them next to the bathtub and surveyed the situation.

Your eyes were wide and fixed on him. “If you could just help me up and over the edge…” you trailed off. Really. How fucking stupid. He nodded and stepped forward, taking stock of the situation. “S’alright. I’ve got ya. I’ll just lift ya out.”

“Oh—you don’t have to—” But his arm already slid gently under your knees and the other looped around your back. He lifted you with ease and set you right down to sit on the edge of the tub. You concentrated on holding the towel around you and trying not to turn too pink. “Th—thanks…”

He straightened up, and you thought perhaps his ears and cheeks were a little red too. “Mhm,” he hummed. His eyes landed on the plastic wrap around the bandage. He could tell you hadn’t changed it yet. “Ya want me to stay? Help ya take care of that?”

“You don’t have to. I can do it,” you said hurriedly, though the dread started to creep back up and twisted your stomach again as you peered down at the bandage that hid the unknown.

“Ain’t what I asked,” he drawled.

You chewed your lip for a moment, considering him. It suddenly struck you that you were sitting in front of him in nothing but a bath towel, bruises, cuts, and scrapes bared, and yet you didn’t feel… vulnerable? Sure, you felt a bit sheepish and embarrassed that you were too weak to climb out of a fucking bathtub but… you felt surprisingly safe. Maybe because he’d saved your life. Maybe because he’d known Brian. Maybe because, for some baffling reason, he’d crossed the country to find you, not even knowing if you were alive or dead. You finally nodded at him. “Stay. Please.” You heard the shake in your own voice.

He nodded and retrieved the first aid supplies you’d set out next to the sink. He waited patiently as your hand found the edge of the plastic and unwound it from your leg. Then, finally, with shaky fingers you began to unwrap the bandage until your injury was revealed, jagged gashes from knee to thigh. You froze still as stone and stared down at it, looking more like a photograph frozen in time than a living, breathing person in front of Daryl. The bandage trailed down from your hand and onto the floor and your eyes stayed fixed on the neat rows of stitches here and there. But what really caught your breath in your throat were the ragged edges of the deep gash that weren’t stitched closed, the edges unsuitable for stitches. The wounds were deep and raw and you were awash with a fear that your leg would never work the same again. How would you hunt and trap? How would you run? How would you survive in this world where any weakness seemed amplified a thousand times?

Daryl watched a shudder run through you. One of your hands was still clutching the towel around your body, and he gently took the old bandage from between the fingers of the other. You hardly reacted when he slipped it from you. He grabbed a clean washcloth from the edge of the tub and ran the tap, dipping it under the warm water and starting to clean the wounds. Your hands settled back on the edge of the towel by your chest, clutching to it as if for safety.

He knelt down in front of you and worked silently, applying a fresh layer of medicine and finally reaching for clean gauze and a bandage. His heart was aching at the look on your face but his hands were steady in their ministrations. You seemed in a daze.

“Ya know, my—my pop was a mean son of a bitch. A real bastard,” he started. Your eyes finally flickered up to his face, ripped away from the bandage he was wrapping gently around the wound. “Seemed like he didn’t need no damn excuse to beat the shit outta me, but it was always worse when he was piss drunk,” he continued, avoiding your eyes. “All it took was bein’ a little too loud or lookin’ at him somehow he considered wrong.” He fell silent for a moment, and all you could hear was the soft sound of his fingers on the bandage. “I know ya saw his handiwork when ya had to get me warm and patched up, after ya found me out there.” You thought his ears and cheeks grew red again. “Ain’t pretty. Used to burn like a bitch when I’d climb in the shower to get cleaned up after he’d had a belt in his hand.” He gulped. He’d never really divulged this to anyone. “Spent a lotta time in the woods just so I wouldn’t be home, ya know? ‘Specially after my brother ran off. But time goes on…” he shrugged and tucked the end of the bandage under to hold it in place. “And ya figure out how to take whatever is comin’, how to—to be at least a little alrigh’.” His blue eyes finally lifted and met your gaze. Your expression was soft and sad. “Yer gonna have a wicked scar and a badass story. Better than mine anyway. And I know it dun feel like it right now but… yer gonna be alrigh’. Somehow I just know it.” He stood and nudged his nose up in a nod at you. “All done. I’ll get outta yer way. Crutches are right there.” He turned and you watched the wings on the back of his vest growing smaller as he crossed the threshold of the bathroom.

“Daryl.” He turned at the sound of your voice, a question on his face. “Thank you. And—I’m really sorry. About your father. No one should have to go through that. And you didn’t deserve it.” For some reason, those last words hit him like a punch in the gut and he felt his throat constrict with some upwelling of long suppressed emotion.

If you don’t tell anyone about your trauma, there’s no one to tell you that it wasn’t your fault and that you didn’t deserve it.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Later that afternoon, clean and in fresh, comfortable clothes, you made your way into the kitchen. You had the hang of the crutches now, and you were grateful for the ability to move around, even if it did make your ribs ache. Daryl had been trying to give you some space and privacy, spending time in Brian’s room (which was now his at the moment ) and occasionally venturing outside with the dogs. He heard you opening and closing cabinets in the kitchen and wandered out to join you. You were setting out ingredients and looked up as he came to lean on the kitchen island.

Maybe it was being up and about or maybe it was the hot bath earlier, but the color was bright in your cheeks and your lips, and he thought you seemed more relaxed. It stirred something in his chest and he didn’t even notice that he’d raised a hand to absently rub at it. “Hey,” he drawled.

Your eyes flickered up to meet his. They seemed more vibrant too. “Hi.” You gave him a long, thoughtful look. “Ready to start your chef training?” you asked him.

He anxiously chewed his bottom lip and shrugged. “That time already?”

“Mhm. If you’re up for it.”

He nodded, taking in the inquisitive look on your face. “Alrigh’. But I gotta warn ya that I may not be the best student… I sucked at school.”

This drew a light laugh from you and his heart jumped in his chest at the sound. Fuck. Why did that keep happening? He told himself he was just relieved that you were feeling better, which he was, but there was something else, too…

“It’s alright. I’ll go easy on you,” you said, sitting down on a stool at the counter. “First thing,” you started, grabbing a nearby bag of dried mushrooms, “we need to soak these to bring them back to life. Can’t have elk steak without mushrooms and onions.” You poured them into a bowl and instructed on how many cups of water to add.

“Ya grow these?” he asked, setting the bowl back on the counter in front of you. You shook your head.

“Foraged. This spring.” You grabbed an onion and set it on a cutting board in front of him. “This, I grew in the garden. Slice it thin while I check on the steaks,” you said.

Daryl was good with a knife and you gave him an amused smile as he finished his task. “…what?” he drawled, looking a little self-conscious.

“Nothing. Just—who knew killing zombies translated to kitchen knifework?” you said.

He shrugged vaguely and flushed a little pink again. Soon, he was sautéing the mushrooms, onions, and garlic and next you were instructing him on how to season and cook the steaks. In no time, the cabin was fragrant with spices and cooking meat. While Daryl stood at the stove, you fell into a quiet reverie, thinking back on all the times you’d prepared meals with your family while growing up in the very same space. It wasn’t until he turned off the burner and set a plate down in front of you that you snapped out of it and realized his blue eyes, looking particularly bright, were fixed on your face.

“Ya alrigh’?” he asked with concern, noting how quiet you’d been. You nodded and gave him a small smile before glancing down at your plate.

“Holy shit. Daryl, this looks perfect. I thought you said you didn’t know how to cook,” you remarked.

He shrugged. “I don’t. Got a good teacher, I guess. Too bad ya weren’t around back when I was failin’ algebra,” he said. A boyish half-smile curved his lips and you felt a warmth kindle in your core.

“One more thing,” you said. You pointed to a cabinet. “Open that and grab a bottle out. Can’t have steak without wine.”

Daryl glanced back at you and hesitated. “Ya ain’t gotta waste a bottle of wine on me. That shit ain’t easy to come by anymore. Maybe ya should—I dunno—save it?”

“First of all, it’s not a waste. You saved my fucking life. Second, I don’t like drinking alone. Third, save it? For what?” you asked with a laugh. “It’s the apocalypse, so grab it and pop the top already, would you?”

Daryl let out a small amused laugh at your vehement tone and did as you said, finding a couple wine glasses and pouring a healthy share of Merlot into each before he took a seat beside you at the counter.

Before he had a chance to take his first bite, you held your glass out to him. “Cheers. To… surviving, I guess,” you said with a wry laugh. One corner of his mouth flicked upward. You were as light-hearted as he’d seen you, and it was fucking growing on him.

He clinked his glass against yours. “Cheers to that,” he agreed.

You both tucked into a delicious meal. Daryl ate with abandon, a little like a kid who had waited all day for a special dinner, and you enjoyed watching his enjoyment. It wasn’t long before both of your plates were clean and you were on your second glass of wine, a healthy buzz fogging up your head with good food and alcohol.

Daryl was more talkative than you’d seen him, and you wondered if it was simply the wine as a social lubricant, but he told you stories about Georgia and his brother Merle, and his family who was now waiting in the community he called Alexandria. It’d been home for Brian, too, though Daryl didn’t bring him up, still unsure with the rawness of your grief.

“I’d already shot the damn thing. It was layin’ there dead as a fuckin’ doornail but Merle—he walked up to the carcass and fired a fucking rifle round right into the chest before declaring it his kill,” he drawled, shaking his head. “Then he still made me clean it and haul it home. Said he was teachin’ me a lesson about how the world works or some shit…”

You let out a surprised laugh. “How old were you?”

“Mmm,” Daryl hummed, swallowing another gulp of wine. “Like eleven, I think.” He shook his head. “But that was Merle.” He twirled the wine glass in his hands and seemed lost in thought for a moment.

“Funny enough, I was always the one who was into hunting with my dad. Brian was more interested in rocks and fossils,” you laughed. “I suppose that changed?” you asked Daryl, meeting his eyes with yours again.

He nodded slowly. “Well—he was still interested in damn rocks. But, yeah. He—he used to hunt with me. He was a good shot. Learned how to track fast too,” he explained. Suddenly, a far-off look grew in his eyes for a moment and the silence seemed to morph and shift into something heavier.

You felt your heart ache as you thought of Brian and were about to ask Daryl how your twin brother had found their group, when suddenly all the lights in the kitchen turned off at once. Daryl heard you sigh in the blackness. “Great…” you murmured.

Daryl was immediately on edge, anxious and kicking himself for not having his goddamn crossbow beside him. His hand flew to the hilt of his knife. “S’goin’ on?” he asked, his guard up.

You must have heard the nervousness in his voice because you rushed to explain. “Oh—it’s just the battery for the solar. Probably ran out of juice. We need to clear the panels on the roof off tomorrow. They must be buried under ice and snow still,” you explained.

“Gotcha,” Daryl said, relaxing again. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see your face in the faint glow of the fire from the other room. “So, we’re outta power ‘til then?”

“Mhm.” As if on cue, you shivered, despite the fact that your face felt warm, most likely from the wine.

Daryl was immediately on his feet beside you. “C’mon. Let’s move closer to the fire.” As soon as he stood, Strider let out a whine and you laughed as you saw that the black lab’s eyes were fixed toward Daryl’s empty plate.

“He can lick the plate,” you said. “I’ll give mine to Bear.” You whistled and the husky came over from where he’d been lying in front of the fire, eagerly accepting the plate you put on the floor for him. You stood back up, trying to get hold of your crutches again so you could make your way into the other room but your balanced pitched to one side. “Shit!”

But you shouldn’t have worried. Daryl’s hands landed on your shoulders and steadied you instantly. His fingertips pressed lightly against your skin. You glanced up at him, his profile lit only by the firelight drifting in from the other room. “Thanks,” you murmured, feeling your face grow hot.

He smirked down at you. “Ya fuckin’ drunk,” he teased you with a gruff laugh. “Ya wasted off two glasses of wine?”

“I told you!” you laughed through your blush. “I don’t drink alone! I have zero tolerance! And I’m not wasted, I just—I have a good buzz…” “Fuckin’ lightweight…” he teased you, pushing his stool back in. “C’mere. I dun trust ya with those damn crutches in the dark anyway,” he said.

Before you could protest, he lifted you the same way he had out of the tub, sweeping you up into his strong arms, and carrying you out into the other room. He set you gently on one end of the couch, and you felt a strange sense of loss as his arms left you. “Thanks… again.” You puzzled over the sense of sudden emptiness.

“No problem.” He cleared his throat and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck before sinking down on the opposite end of the couch. He’d been able to smell your shampoo with you in his arms, and his mind drifted back to the sight of you seated on the edge of the tub earlier, the bandage still around your leg. He’d noticed how the water droplets on your skin rolled down and were finally caught by the edge of your towel. You’d looked beautiful; sad, but beautiful. Even with the bruises glaring on your face and shoulders, there was something striking about you. It was with some perplexity that he realized where his mind had gone and he fought to push that image away again, scolding himself for the fluttery feeling that remained in his chest. For a long moment, the two of you simply stared into the flickering flames in the fireplace.

You were finally the one who broke the silence, studying him for a moment before you spoke, your stomach twisting a little with nerves. “I have to ask you again—” Daryl looked over at you, his expression grim and maybe a little nervous. You were leaning slightly toward him, your hand resting lightly on your injured leg. “You crossed the country to find me, without knowing if I was alive or dead, without knowing where to look really. Why? I know you said Brian was like a brother to you, but that still doesn’t explain it fully to me… You said you’d never been out of Georgia, and yet you crossed—Jesus, I don’t even know how many states. I can’t imagine what you went through to try and get here… why would you do that? Why would you do any of it? Risk yourself, risk everything?”

Daryl’s blue eyes drifted downwards and you could sense that he was remembering something, reliving some vivid memory. “Because—” He pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth for a moment, trying to dredge up the words as he struggled against the painful images flashing through his mind’s eye. “Because Brian asked me to. As he was dyin’.”

You felt your breath hitch and it seemed to stick in the back of your throat. Your lips fell slightly apart as you peered back at him intensely, your brow furrowing and throwing your eyes into shadow.

Daryl gulped and when he next spoke his deep voice was strained and heavy with gravel. “I was there… when he—when it happened. I was there. And I couldn’t—I didn’t—” He sighed heavily and shut his eyes. “S’my fault he died. S’my fault. ‘N m’so sorry…”

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles #daryl series #daryl dixon series #daryl fanfic series

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angelicyoongie · 4 years ago

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Out of the Woods (III)

— pairing: wolf hybrid namjoon x human f!reader — genre: fluff, angst, smut — word count: 11K — warnings: mentions of past abuse, explicit sexual content! — summary: Promising Jihyo that you were going to stay away from your writing for one weekend had been easy in theory, but much harder to actually do once you reached the little cabin the woods. To make matters worse, the only thing that rivals your inability to keep promises is your terrible luck – and after a particularly bad choice leads you to get lost in the mountains, you suppose that it's only karma that you end up face to face with a wolf that looks ready to rip your throat out.

Part I / II / III

Namjoon startles with a low growl at the knock at the door, ears twisting back as it opens to reveal the nurse alongside someone you haven’t seen before. “Mr. Kim, Miss Y/n, meet Yeonjun. He’s our hybrid shelter contact, and he has some information to share with you regarding Mr. Kim’s owner. I’ll leave you to it, but I’ll be back shortly,” You give the nurse a small nod before she leaves, your attention straying back to the blue-haired man standing just inside the door.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Yeonjun says, a warm smile on his lips. The wolf hybrid’s growl grows louder as Yeonjun’s eyes find yours, Namjoon bristling under your touch. “Don’t worry Mr. Kim, I’ll stay right here,” Yeonjun leans back against the wall, his posture relaxed and open despite the snarl on Namjoon’s lips. You squeeze his wrist in warning, begging him to calm down. You have no clue what Yeonjun is here for, but you don’t want Namjoon to ruin his chances of a good home by making a bad first impression. Namjoon’s growl stutters at your tight grip, and Yeonjun looks amused as the wolf hybrid forces himself to relax against the pillows behind his back. Namjoon settles for glaring at him instead, and you take that as a small win.

“Sorry, you had something to tell us?” You say.

“I do,” Yeonjun ruffles through the folder in his hand, eyes squinting slightly as he reads off the information. “It says here that the legal owner of Kim Namjoon, Mr. Kim Deok-ho, filed a missing hybrid report five years ago. Is that correct?” Namjoon offers a stiff nod, his jaw clenched tightly at the sound of his owner’s name. Your eyes grow wide at the new information. Five years? Namjoon was by himself for that long?

”It appears that Kim Deok-ho passed away a year after the report, due to a sudden heart attack. Since he had no relatives and has not left your ownership to someone else, you’re currently an ownerless hybrid.” You let out a shaky breath as Namjoon’s ears spring up at the information, his tail doing a half-hearted wag beneath the covers. “Based on the nurse’s reports of the old scars and marks on your arms and chest, we have reason to believe that mistreatment and abuse occurred during the ownership, and so even if someone from Kim Deok-ho’s past step forward in an attempt to claim you, it will be denied.” You slump back in your chair, desperately blinking away the tears blurring your vision. Thank god. At least he’ll never have to go back there.

”I take it that you agree with those observations?” Yeonjun gives a small smile at the relieved whimper Namjoon lets out, the wolf hybrid’s raspy yes filling the small room. Namjoon flips his hand over to grasp yours, his long fingers intertwining delicately with your own.

“Good, we’re on the same page then. The next thing we need to settle is what’s going to happen moving forward,” Yeonjun flicks over to a new page, pen hovering over the paper as he looks up at both of you. “A newly formed pack bond isn’t hard to notice when you know what to look for. I take it that you have no interest in going to the shelter?”

Namjoon brings your hand up to his chest; shaking his head as he says, “Stay with Y/n. Please.”

Yeonjun’s questioning gaze flickers over to you, and you quickly scramble out an agreement. “Namjoon can stay with me for as long as he wants,” You try your best to suppress a chuckle as Namjoon’s tail start wagging at your words, a faint blush blooming in his cheeks at the heavy thuds against the bed.

“Great!” Yeonjun smiles as he fills out his forms, “We need to do some standard background checks and we have some protocols to follow, but I don’t think there will be any issues. Just fill out this form and give it to the nurse later, and I’ll get the process started.” He places a pen and paper down on the small table near the door, giving the nurse a nod as she pokes her head in.

“We’re all done, just let me know when the form is ready,” He gives you and Namjoon a quick wave before he slips out of the door.

“Well then, I have some news too,” The nurse says. “Thankfully the operation went well, and Mr. Kim’s recovery should be fairly smooth. He’ll need to stay here for a few more days for observation as he did lose a lot of blood, but we don’t think there will be any issues,” She smiles.

“Now, since hybrids heal much faster than regular humans, we’ll have to do a few more check-ups than normal just to make sure you don’t wear the cast for too long. You’ll likely be able to remove the cast after three weeks, and then keep a brace on for a few more after that until you’re back to normal. You will be provided with a pair of crutches, but you’re stuck with bed rest for the first week to make sure you’re not putting too much pressure on your injury.” You can feel your back ache at the thought of having to spend a few weeks sleeping at the couch until you can get hold of another bed, but it’s for sure worth it if it means Namjoon will recover well.

“I think that should be all, do you have any questions?” You shake your head, a smile curling at your lips as the wolf hybrid copies your movement.

“That’s good then, I’ll leave you two be for now.” The nurse bids you both goodbye with a nod, the room falling into a sudden silence as she closes the door behind her. Namjoon flashes you a dopy smile as you turn your attention back to him. The wolf hybrid clutches your hand tightly to his chest as he shifts his upper body as close to your chair as possible, his warm brown eyes never straying from your face.

“Before I sign the papers, I just want to be sure that you’re really okay with staying with me. I promise I’ll do my best to take care of you, but Yeonjun might have some foster homes that are better suited for your recovery. My apartment is pretty small,” You grimace. You really aren’t lying when it comes to your home. Sure, you might have two bedrooms, but one of them is hardly even big enough to be a closet. It will be a tight squeeze with Namjoon while he’s injured, but you’ll manage as long as the wolf hybrid is certain.

“It’s .. okay. Want to stay .. with you,” Namjoon frowns as he works to find his words, his gaze turning a little desperate as if he’s afraid you’ll change your mind if he takes too long.

“Of course. I’ll bring you home as soon as you can be discharged,” You squeeze his hand comfortingly. You can’t help but feel a little flutter of excitement at the thought of bringing him back to your apartment. “I should go fill out the form then,” You smile. Somehow, you think Namjoon will fit right in.

“Careful,” You wince as Namjoon almost stumbles into a wall, the wolf hybrid’s grip tightening around your shoulders as you try your best to hold him up. If there’s anything you’ve learned over the last couple of days in the hospital, it’s that Namjoon is stubborn. And apparently, that stubbornness is only amplified when it comes to you.

“Are you sure you don’t want to use the crutches?” You ask as you try to fish up your keys from your pocket, the wolf hybrid’s tired breaths spilling across your neck.

“No crutches. Only need you,” Namjoon grumbles. You blame your stuttering heartbeat on the exhaustion you feel after practically carrying Namjoon from the hospital to your car, and then from your car to your apartment complex. Thank god you have an elevator, otherwise you have no idea how you would manage to get him up to the eight floor.

You let out a sigh of relief as you get your keys out, quickly shoving them into the lock to open the door. Namjoon’s ears spring up at the sight, his tail beginning to move behind his back at the pleasant smells that hit his sensitive nose. Everything smells like you, like warmth and comfort, and there’s nothing the wolf hybrid wants to do more than add his own scent to the mix, to make sure that others know that you’re taken. He hasn’t even been able to properly scent you since the woods, and the faint touches he’s been able to leave on your skin isn’t enough.

You help Namjoon step out of his shoes, carefully leading him down the narrow hallway of your apartment. “Here’s the second bedroom,” You nod to the first door you pass, “That’s my bedroom, and the last door on the right is the bathroom. The rest is an open concept living room and kitchen, as you can see.” Namjoon’s golden eyes carefully scan over your moderately sized apartment, his nose wrinkling as he picks up a scent he hadn’t noticed near the entrance.

“Dog?” Namjoon’s chest rumbles as he tries to hobble over to the couch. It takes you a second to catch on to what he said, the image of Sana and Jihyo cuddling on your couch a week back flashing in your mind as you struggle to hold him back.

“You’re supposed to head straight to bed,” You say, curling your fingers deeper into Namjoon’s side as he tries to wriggle out of your hold. “Namjoon, please,” You plead as the strain in your back begins to throb, your body definitely not made for almost carrying a fit wolf hybrid for an extended period of time.

Namjoon stops struggling at the tired tone in your voice, and you take the low whine that falls from his lips as an apology. You catch him throwing a narrowed look at the couch as he lets you lead him to your bedroom, and you make a mental note to maybe try to air the room out before he needs to use the bathroom. You didn’t even realize Sana’s scent would linger that long, but then again, she and Jihyo had spent all day glued to your couch.

“Here we go,” You carefully lower Namjoon down on your bed, helping him get situated and comfortable before propping his leg up with a few pillows. You sink down on the edge of the bed, a frown tugging at your lips as you notice how rough and threadbare the material of his clothes are. The only clothes Namjoon have are the ones he got from the hospital, but they’re obviously far from new. You were hoping to get him more situated before leaving him alone, but there’s no way you’re going to let him use clothes that seem like they might unravel at any moment when you have the funds to get him soft and better-fitting clothes.

“Would you be okay if I head out for a bit? I need to get–” Namjoon cuts you off with a pained whine, his hand closing firmly around yours as he says, “Please don’t go.” The wolf hybrid’s silver ears are flat against his head, another distressed noise rumbling out of his chest as he tries to tug you closer on the bed.

“It’s okay, I promise I won’t leave!” You say, your heart squeezing painfully at the panicked expression on Namjoon’s face. It’s too reminiscent of how he looked when you left him out in the woods, and that’s something you never want to revisit.

“We can order you some new clothes online and get them delivered here tomorrow! I’ll stay here for as long as you need me to. Is that alright with you?” Namjoon searches your gaze for a few seconds before he seems to find what he's looking for, the tension in his shoulders lessening as he rasps out a low thank you. “It's nothing to thank me for, it’s the least I can do,” You give his hand a soft squeeze.

“I’ll go make some dinner, you need to take your pain medication soon,” You can see the doubt in the wolf hybrid’s eyes, his hold tightening ever so slightly around your hand. “How about I leave the door open? You’ll be able to see me the entire time I’m cooking,” You say. It truly breaks your heart that Namjoon is so scared that you might abandon him, but can you really blame him? His first owner was abusive, and when he finally found someone – when he found you – who he felt strongly enough about to consider his pack, you had left him.

“Yeah,” Namjoon nods, his slender fingers slowly untangling from yours. The wolf hybrid’s eyes widens as you lean closer to fluff up the pillows behind his head, his tail doing a couple of surprised thuds against the mattress at the close proximity.

“Let me know if you need anything,” You smile. You can feel Namjoon’s gaze following your every movement as you cook an easy dinner, the position of your bed giving him a vantage point of both the couch and the kitchen behind it. Normally, being watched so intently would’ve made you feel a little uncomfortable, but with Namjoon, it almost feels reassuring to know the wolf hybrid isn’t letting you out of his sight. You don’t live in a bad part of town by any means, but it gives you that little extra ounce of protection you wasn’t even aware that you were craving.

“What about this one?” You only get a non-committal sound in response, and you shake your head with an amused huff as you add the sweater to your cart. Since all of Namjoon’s focus was on his food during dinner, it seems that he now refuses to look at anything that isn’t you, so that doesn’t leave you much choice but to pick out most of his clothes on your own. You had tried to keep a little distance between your bodies on your bed to make sure you couldn’t accidentally hurt him, but the wolf hybrid had gently tugged you closer with a displeased growl, not happy until your side was flush against his. You bite down harshly on your lip as Namjoon’s rough fingertips glide over the delicate skin on your wrist, the wolf hybrid seemingly more interesting in mapping out every inch of your arm, rather than what you’re trying to show him on the screen. You end up picking out some loose clothing, something Namjoon hopefully will like after not wearing clothes for years. You can tell he’s uncomfortable in the stiff hospital clothes, especially since the outfit seems to be a size or two too small. You do a last scan over your cart, happy with the assortment of soft earth tones you’ve picked out. Namjoon doesn’t strike you as a hybrid that would wear something overtly flashy, but if that’s something he wants to later, you’ll be more than happy to update his wardrobe.

“Okay, done! It should be here by tomorrow afternoon,” Namjoon perks up as you close the laptop in your lap, the wolf hybrid’s brown eyes flickering up to meet yours. You feel your breath getting caught in your throat as you take in how softhe looks, and you find yourself reaching out to brush Namjoon’s silver hair away from his lashes before you can stop yourself. Namjoon lets out a surprised rush of air at the contact, the warmth in his eyes almost scorching as he slowly moves his gaze around your face, taking the chance to drink in every detail of it. The wolf hybrid shifts his weight, and the loud creak of your bed is enough to make you hastily pull back, cheeks flushed as you stutter out a, “I-I uh, should probably get the couch ready.”

“Couch?” Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Yeah, you’re taking the bed so I need somewhere to sleep too,” You say.

“Why? Just sleep .. with me,” The wolf hybrid frowns. You know he doesn’t mean anything by it aside from sleeping, you have done it before out in the woods after all, but your stomach flutters at the words before you can reel yourself in, warmth slowly climbing up the back of your neck.

“I can’t do that Namjoon,” You mentally pat yourself on the back for how steady your voice sounds, “The woods were different. We .. we can’t do that here.” Despite feeling like you might trust Namjoon with your life if the situation ever calls for it, you don’t actually know him. The past days in the hospital have been filled with tests and interviews with Yeonjun, and so you haven’t truly had the chance to really talk to the wolf hybrid yet. You have to at least be something akin to friends before you’re comfortable sleeping next to him.

“Oh,” The disappointment in Namjoon’s voice is obvious, his expression almost turning a little shameful as his ears begin to droop. “I’m sorry,” He mutters.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? You’ve been shifted for a long time, so it’s only natural that some things are a little different between human and animal,” Namjoon nods, but there’s something in his expression that looks a little closed off now – more hesitant. “Is there anything you need before I go to bed? Anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable?” The wolf hybrid shifts his gaze around your room, pink lips parting and closing as if there’s something he can’t quite make up his mind to ask for.

“Can I .. scent you?” Namjoon murmurs. One of your childhood friends had a hybrid, a sweet little cat hybrid that always used to scent you when you came over after school. You learned then that scenting helps hybrids to calm down and feel more comfortable around new people and places faster, which lessened the shock when you first met Sana all those years ago, and it’s also why there’s not an ounce of hesitation in your voice as you say, “Of course.” The wolf hybrid’s head attention snaps back to you so fast you’re almost a little worried for his neck.

“Are you sure?” Namjoon asks, his warm eyes searching your face.

“I am. It’ll help you settle in here faster, right? So I really don’t mind,” You smile. Namjoon nods, pink lips pressed into a firm line as he gently takes a hold of your hand. He brings it up slowly to his face, a look of deep concentration in his eyes as he begins to rub his cheek against your wrist, making sure that he covers every visible inch of skin with his scent. Namjoon’s hold loosens ever so slightly, but just as you think the wolf hybrid is done, he leans down to swipe his tongue over your skin, leaving behind a more permanent scent mark. You bite down harshly on your lips, desperate to stifle the surprised sound bubbling up the back of your throat. The hybrids you had met before never did this during scenting. Namjoon’s ears begin to perk up the more his scent lingers on you, a content noise rumbling in his chest they begin to properly mix. Maybe it’s just a wolf thing, you decide. After all, he had scented you out in the woods in the same fashion before, so it's likely just something tied to his species that you weren’t familiar with. You allow Namjoon to switch out your hands, letting the wolf hybrid scent both of them to his heart’s content. He looks visibly more relaxed as he places your hand back in your lap, his tail beating against the bed in a steady rhythm.

“Better?” You ask.

“Better,” Namjoon confirms, a soft smile on his lips as he shifts back against the pillows. You take that as your cue to get ready for bed yourself, your eyelids growing heavier by the second.

“Can .. door stay open?” Namjoon asks as you scoot of the bed, his eyes flickering hesitantly between you and the living room.

“It can.”

As you settle down into your freshly made couch, you can help but feel soothed at the sounds of the wolf hybrid getting comfortable in your bed. Your apartment suddenly feels a little warmer, a little more lived in, with the added noise of another person. You stare up at the dark ceiling with a smile, and the pleasant fluttering in your stomach tells you that if Namjoon decides to stay, your apartment might actually begin to feel like a home.

“Did you pick a movie?” You take a seat next to Namjoon on the couch, placing the popcorn bowl careful down between the two of you. The wolf hybrid nods at the screen, one of the newer blockbuster films already chosen and ready to be played. With his broken leg, there really isn’t much for Namjoon to do except watch movies or read, but you thankfully have a wall of books, and unlimited streaming services for him to use. The first two days of having Namjoon in your apartment were more awkward than you had expected. But then again, maybe it should have been weirder if it hadn’t, considering you had to help someone you barely know clean up and use the bathroom. It had been a learning curve to say the least; your cheeks stained a permanent pink until you managed to work out a good system. Namjoon’s new clothes had arrived quickly as well, and the wolf hybrid seemed pleased at the colours and the loose fit of the items you had chosen. You praised your own choices too; the baggy pants and slightly oversized shirts made helping him dress and undress a lot easier.

Though, there is one thing you haven’t been able to work out quite yet. Namjoon. Despite the wolf hybrid’s initial distrust of the crutches, he seems to have really taken to them now, especially once he realized that using them meant he could just trail after you himself without you having to struggle holding him up around the apartment. It is cute that Namjoon has been glued to your side ever since you arrived at your apartment, but with how he’s straining himself to hobble over to the front door every hour despite the doctor’s request of him not getting out of bed, it’s starting to worry you. The behaviour reminds you of your time spent with him the woods, and how he would constantly scout the area you travelled through for danger. You need Namjoon to relax and heal, but it’s been difficult, especially since the hybrid hasn’t said much outside of yes and no for the last four days. Before you left the hospital, the hybrid doctor you had spoken with had made it very clear that it was important to engage Namjoon in conversation, as his speech would only improve the more he used it. It’s beginning to feel more and more like you’ve just brought home a guard dog and not a person, and it makes your chest uncomfortably tight to think that Namjoon might not feel safe enough in your home to let his instincts take the back seat and just be.

You’re startled out of your thoughts as you suddenly hear a howling laughter coming from the hallway. You know it’s just some neighbours finally getting home after work, but Namjoon stiffens at the noise, ears perked in the direction of your door. It’s obvious that the wolf hybrid has the urge to protect, one hand already reaching for his crutches – so you just hope you’ve read the signs right when you hastily grab Namjoon’s hand, tugging it into your lap to cover it with your own. Namjoon freezes, his jaw clenched tightly as he slowly moves his eyes from the screen to your intertwined hands.

“Do you mind? It seems like this part is going to be a little scary,” You gesture to the action scene playing out on the TV, plastering on your best sheepish smile as you hold the wolf hybrid’s hand tighter. You feel his fingers twitch in your hold as another round of loud laughter rings out in the hallway, but to your surprise, Namjoon only takes a deep breath before he settles back against the couch. He flips your hand, easily entangling his fingers with yours as his bright eyes travel back to the screen. For what feels like the first time in four days, you can sense Namjoon finally letting his shoulders drop, his tail doing a half-hearted wag against the couch as he relaxes. The rough fingertips grazing your knuckles at random intervals keeps you distracted enough that you have no clue what the movie you just watched was really about, your hand tingling with the sensation of Namjoon’s careful touches.

As the end credits begin to roll, you turn on the couch, facing the wolf hybrid more directly as you say, “Namjoon, are you okay? You’ve just seemed a little tense and closed off these last days. I just want to make sure that I’m not doing anything that’s making you feel uncomfortable.”

“Not you, just me,” Namjoon rasps, his lips pressing into a firm line, “Don’t want to be .. too much.”

“Too much?” You frown.

“Old owner wanted me to be quiet. No scenting .. Said it wasn’t natural,” Namjoon’s ears fall flat against his head. “Couldn’t help it, was too young. So owner punished me.” The wolf hybrid’s eyes briefly flicker up to meet yours, the usual warmth hardened and cold and sad as he lowers his head as says, “Sorry. You can punish too.”

“Namjoon,” You whisper, swallowing harshly around the lump in your throat. You can feel your chest crack, eyes growing blurry as you think of a younger Namjoon. You know that all hybrids need psychical contact to stay happy and healthy, and that it’s especially important for younger hybrids to make sure that they learn about their instincts and needs. Your childhood friend’s hybrid was never denied pets or cuddles, the cat hybrid practically always glued to someone’s side because anything else would’ve been inhumane. The fact that Namjoon was abused for wanting something as harmless as a hug, or a scratch behind his ears makes you want to bring his owner back to life just so that you can make sure he receives the proper punishment for his crimes. Death seems too easy of a way out of the horrible things he did.

“I will never do that to you. You never have to worry about being too much of anything. Wanting someone to talk to and touch is completely natural,” You hesitantly bring a hand up to cup Namjoon’s cheek, lifting his head enough to meet his gaze. Your fear of Namjoon not wanting your touch flies out the window the moment the wolf hybrid leans his whole head into your palm, nuzzling his cheek against your hand as the bushy tail behind his back picks up speed at the contact. It dawns on you then, that after the first night he scented you, Namjoon had withdrawn completely. Him following you around and checking the door was probably the best thing he could to do to feel close to you while still keeping his distance – because that was what he had been forced to adapt to. You softly clear your throat, keeping your voice as level as possible as you give him a gentle smile and say, “If there’s something you want, you just have to ask. I promise I’ll do my best to make it happen for you.”

Namjoon angles his head in your palm, soft lips brushing over your wrist as he murmurs a quiet thank you into your skin. “Can I … ask you something else?” You can’t help the way your heart flips as Namjoon tries to follow the hand you remove from his cheek, the wolf hybrid letting out a perturbed whine.

“Sure,” He rasps, clutching your intertwined fingers tighter to make sure you won’t remove them too.

“How did you get caught in the trap?” You wince as your eyes drift to Namjoon’s cast. Jihyo had made some calls while you were with Namjoon in the hospital, and it had turned out that the old owners of the cabin had left out multiple bear traps many years ago. It had been so long that they had forgotten they were even there. You're honestly surprised that the trap still worked considering how rusted and old it had looked clamped around Namjoon’s leg, but then again the wolf hybrid is big when’s he’s shifted. Not the same as a full-grown bear of course, but his weight was obviously enough to set it off.

“Wasn’t paying attention,” Namjoon says. The dejected look on his face feels like someone has punched you straight in your stomach as he mutters, “Was distracted. Sad.” Because of you. ”Was going to leave when the trap stopped me,” Namjoon frowns. That explains why it took so long to find him, and why he had moved so far from where you first met him. If it hadn’t been for the trap, you likely never would’ve seen Namjoon again.

The wolf hybrid’s face is pinched as he tries to formulate the sentence in his head, the words a little jumbled but clear enough that you understand what he’s trying to say, ”Trap hurt, but you came back. So pain is okay.” For all the things you want to say, the only thing that comes out is just a saddened, “I’m sorry.”

Namjoon shakes his head. The wolf hybrid’s golden brown eyes are warmwarmwarm, his voice dripping with honeyed content as he says, “Found you, so everything’s okay now. Found my pack.” Your body moves on instinct as you shift closer, untangling your hand from Namjoon’s to gently wrap them around his shoulders. The position is a little awkward, but you couldn’t care less about the weird twist in your lower back as the wolf hybrid collapses into your embrace with a low whine, his face tucked securely into your neck. The soft fur of Namjoon's ears brush against your chin as he inhales your scent, a shaky breath escaping his lips as your calming scent washes over him. He doesn’t scent you like you expected him to; instead, he just seems happy to be this close to you, his breath spilling across your neck as he tries to press himself even closer.

“Yeah,” You breathe. It seems you both have.

It’s almost too easy to grow attached to Namjoon. The last two weeks since you brought Namjoon home has passed without a hitch, the wolf hybrid finally having settled properly into your apartment. His speech has improved drastically since you talked that night, and he’s been doing better and better for each day as he makes an effort to ask about your life, or your work. With the way Namjoon’s face lit up at the mention of your profession, it felt like another puzzle piece was falling snuggly into place. You’ve never had someone be so interested and intrigued by your writing before, but then again, you’ve never met someone who devours books in the same way that Namjoon does either. The wolf hybrid breezes through a book in only a couple of days, and the sound of paper being turned alongside with Namjoon’s low grumbles as he finds something interesting has become your new white noise as you work. You were certain you wouldn’t be able to write with someone else in the apartment, let alone the same room, but Namjoon blends so seamlessly into your life that it’s far from an issue.

But, with attachment, also comes fear. You call Jihyo on your way to the grocery store, your mind busy and your heart even heavier as you make your way through the spring rain. Like the sky, you pour out all of the insecurities and worries you’ve kept bottled up, Jihyo only spurring your rambling on with a few encouraging noises.

“I’m scared,” You admit. “Is it weird how fast we’re moving? The more I get to know him the more it feels like he was always supposed to be there.” Jihyo lets out a low hum as she thinks.

“I don’t think so Y/n. Sometimes you just find people you click with, there’s nothing wrong with that. And it’s not like you’ve only been hanging out for an hour every now and then, you’ve been living together for two weeks. It’s understandable that you would grow close a little quicker than normal.”

“But that’s not all, is it?” Jihyo adds, as you keep silent.

“No .. I just don’t want him to regret anything. I’m the first nice human he’s seen in years, I’m just scared that his affection is a little misplaced,” You grimace.

“That may be, but Namjoon is still capable of making his own choices. The people at the hospital treated him nicely, and you don’t see him rushing to come home with them.” You can hear Jihyo’s teasing smile through the phone.

“I guess,” You mutter. Despite his initial hostility toward the staff, Namjoon had opened up after the first day there. He had stopped growling and trying to bite the doctors' hands off, and he had even offered the kind woman that checked upon him the most a sweet smile after she had brought him his dinner.

“There’s no guarantees in life Y/n. You don’t know if Namjoon will change his mind in a week, or a month or a year. But I do know that you would respect his wishes and let him go if it ever comes down to that. I think Namjoon knows that too, and that’s why he’s not afraid to open up to you. Because you genuinely care about him,” Jihyo voice is soft through the phone. “You have no guarantees, but some things are worth the risk.” You didn’t even have to think twice to know that Namjoon was worth it. You already knew.

You briefly glance up from your computer as a steaming mug is placed next to it, the wolf hybrid giving you a dimpled smile before he hobbles back to the couch. You raise the cup to your mouth; a relieved sigh leaving your lips as you inhale the strong aroma of the coffee Jihyo gifted you last month. You hold back a groan as you take your first sip, the strain in your eyes already feeling a little more bearable due to the hybrid’s sweet actions.

Namjoon does this a lot, you’ve come to realize. Even with his injury, the wolf hybrid tries his best to do little things for you. It’s everything from bringing you coffee when your energy starts running out, to organizing your scattered notes, to tearing you away from your unfinished chapters when the words just won’t flow anymore. Your cheeks are honestly starting to ache from the smile that seems to be constantly tugging at your lips. You take another sip of the hot beverage, nearly choking on the burning liquid as you notice the two new emails in your inbox. You open the hospital email first, the standardized note doing little to calm your nerves as you skim through the reminder of Namjoon’s appointment next week. You know the wolf hybrid is itching to get the heavy cast off in exchange for a lighter brace, so he’ll be happy to know that his leg is healing as it should be.

You push through the light tremor in your hands as you go to the next email, Yeonjun’s name creating a flurry of nerves to erupt in your stomach. You haven’t formally adopted Namjoon yet. The papers you signed were for a temporary stay while the shelter did more extensive research into your funds and background, so the notice you’ve been waiting for since you left the hospital is finally here. You’ll finally know if you've passed their tests or not. You hastily click the message before you can talk yourself out of it, your eyes scanning frantically over the page until you find the section you were looking for. You slump back in your chair, eyes growing wide as you read the same sentence over and over. You’re eligible to adopt Namjoon if he wants to stay with you.

“Hey Namjoon,” You grin. The gray ears on Namjoon’s head perk up at the sound of his name, the wolf hybrid’s bright questioning eyes meeting yours as you say, “How do you feel about steak tonight?”

“Smells good,” You swear you almost have a heart attack as Namjoon sneaks up behind you, the wolf hybrid sniffing the cooking meat over your shoulder. You have no idea how he manages to be this quiet with crutches.

“Good! They should be done in a few minutes,” You say as you flip the steaks over, turning down the heat to make sure they don’t get burned. You can feel the heat from Namjoon’s body lingering behind you, the wolf hybrid still rooted in place. You bite back a surprised squeal as Namjoon’s arm wraps around your waist, tugging you back a small step so that he can hook his chin over your shoulder.

“Is this okay?” You stiffen as Namjoon’s husky voice brushes against your ear, a shiver running down your spine at the close proximity. You’re no stranger to hugging or holding hands after living with Namjoon for two weeks, but this feels more .. intimate. Different.

“Of course,” You say. You suck your lower lip between your teeth as Namjoon’s fingers spray across your waist, the firm grip making your head spin as he begins to rub his cheek along your shoulder. Oh, you realize. He’s scenting you. So far Namjoon has only scented your wrists, and you understand now why he decided to limit himself to that, because this – this just feels like so much more. The wolf hybrid lets out a pleased huff as he moves to nose along your throat, his soft hair tickling your neck as he does his best to cover your scent with his own.

You can feel your eyes fluttering shut at the gentle touches, your head tilting to the side to allow Namjoon more access to your skin. You feel the rumble in Namjoon’s chest before you hear it, and it quickly dawns on you that you have once again barred your neck to the alpha, submitted, as teeth begin to nip at your sensitive throat. You clutch the spatula in your hand like it’s a lifeline, trying your best to focus on how the metal is digging into your skin rather than how Namjoon’s fingers have started trailing up and down your waist, leaving fires in their wake. You’re doing good, you think. Just don’t think about it. It’s natural, it’s okay–

Your eyes fly open as Namjoon’s tongue drags over the gentle bite marks on your skin, a choked whine escaping your throat. The wolf hybrid stills against your neck, lips resting against your throat as his tail wags furiously behind his back. You can’t tell whether it’s Namjoon’s or your own heart that’s beating so harshly against your ribcage, the wolf hybrid’s naturally woodsy smell making you feel lightheaded at how tightly it’s wrapped around you. You both stand frozen in place, embarrassment beginning to creep up your chest as Namjoon rubs his cheek against your shoulder one last time, his voice deep and raspy as he says, “You smell good.” You offer him a dazed nod, not trusting you voice. Your eyes stay locked on the slightly charred vegetables as the wolf hybrid pulls away. You can hear him clearly now, how he slowly moves his way back to the couch. You let out shuddering breath once you deem him far enough away, forcing your knees to stop shaking and the butterflies in your stomach to calm down as you finish preparing dinner.

“I have something to ask you,” You say. You figure you might as well bite the bullet considering you’ve only been pushing your food around for the last five minutes. Namjoon gives you an encouraging smile around the food in his mouth, his ears perked and attentive.

“I heard back from the shelter today,” You pause as Namjoon’s eyes widen, his jaw working furiously to get rid of the large piece of steak in his mouth. You stifle a snort, resting your chin in your palm as you wait for him to finish.

“Go on,” Namjoon swallows harshly. “Yeonjun told me that everything checks out. My income and credentials are good enough to officially adopt you,” You say. “That is, if you want me to?” You hastily add, a sliver of fear rushing through your veins as the wolf hybrid’s face becomes hard to read.

“Do you?” Namjoon asks.

“Want to adopt you? Yes. I know I might not have the most space to offer you, but there’s nothing I’d love more.” The thought of Namjoon leaving you makes your chest feel hollow and tight, but at the end of the day, it’s the wolf hybrid’s decision. Namjoon regards you silently for a few more seconds, his brown eyes searching your face one last time before his own crumbles with relief.

“Then adopt me. Please,” He rasps, “This is more than enough, I just want to stay with you.” You can’t hold back the smile that blooms on your face, a matching grin tugging at Namjoon’s lips as you say, “Deal.”

It isn’t until later, when you go to bring out your sheets from your closet that Namjoon stops you. The wolf hybrid is resting on the foot of your bed, his fingers loosely clasped around your wrist as he says, “Stay.”

He clears his throat at the confused look in your eyes, his ears shifting nervously as he nods to the bed. “I know your back hurts from sleeping on the couch, and I promise I’ll keep to myself. Just .. sleep here with me?” You cast an uncertain glance at your bed, trying to calculate just how much space there will be between the two of you. Your back is sore, and the long hours working at your desk don’t exactly make it better. You have ordered a new bed for the extra bedroom, but that has yet to arrive. You probably should’ve realized the website was a little shady considering just how good of a deal the bed was. You sigh.

“I’ll stay.” You’re tired of feeling like you’re seventy years old when you wake up, and your back really needs some proper rest. You help Namjoon manoeuvre under the covers before you get yourself ready for bed. It feels weird slipping into it with Namjoon already there, the wolf hybrid giving you an amused grin at the groan that escapes when your back hits the soft mattress. You can feel the tenseness in your muscles melting away as you drag the duvet up to your nose, your hand blindly reaching for the bedside lamp until the room is plunged into darkness.

“Good night,” You whisper.

“Sweet dreams Y/n.” The warmth and security of Namjoon’s body being so close to yours drags you under before you know it, and truth be told, you can’t remember the last time you slept so well.

You huff as you drag the heavy laundry basket from the spare bedroom. The new bed you ordered has been sitting inside the room for a week, but it has yet to be used. You and Namjoon came to a silent agreement to just forget that it’s even there. As you drag the basket into the living room, you find your gaze automatically drifting to the wolf hybrid. You can’t help but feel guilty as you watch Namjoon lean against the balcony, the wolf hybrid bathed in golden light as the sun begins to set. Namjoon turns slightly, his ears picking up a sound you can’t hear from inside the apartment. The wolf hybrid’s eyes flutter as a soft gust of wind ruffles his hair, his tail wagging slowly at the fresh air. Still, you know it’s not enough. It’s the faint frown on Namjoon’s face that fuels your guilt, because despite his reassurances that this is all he needs, you know it’s a lie. He’s a wolf hybrid. He needs more space, he needs fresher air, and he needs the forest. He’s not made to live in an apartment in the middle of a bustling city, and especially not after living by himself for years out in the wilderness. This may be all he needs, but you know deep down that Namjoon isn’t happy.

Now that the weather has begun to grow warmer, Namjoon has started spending more and more time on your balcony. It’s been five weeks since the accident, so the bulky cast on his leg is switched out for a lighter brace, but his leg still isn’t strong enough to actually go for a walk outside. You think you both have started to go a little stir-crazy after hardly leaving the apartment for so long, but thankfully the doctor let you know at the last check-up that he can likely remove the brace and start using his leg slowly from next week. Yet, the parks around your area can’t compare in the slightest to the woods around Jihyo’s cabin. Namjoon is his own person, but with the papers you signed last week, he’s now also partially your responsibility. And you just want to do what’s best for the both of you.

You shake your head, huffing out a low curse as you bring the laundry to washing machine inside your bathroom. You chew mindlessly on your lip as you think, getting a little lost in your own thoughts as you watch the clothes being tossed around inside the machine. The soft flesh is almost bitten raw as you come to a conclusion. You don’t need the city in the same way that the wolf hybrid needs the forest. In all honestly, you’re starting to grow a little sick of the constant noise. The only thing you need is good Wi-Fi and well .. Namjoon. You close the bathroom door behind you with a firm snap, the guilt in your stomach slowly turning into excitement as you watch Namjoon push away from the balcony and make his way inside. You think you know how to fix this.

Namjoon lets out a strained huff as he shifts on the couch. You can feel your concentration slipping further with each movement, the words in front of you bleeding together as you lose your place for the tenth time in the last thirty minutes. You know the wolf hybrid is anxious to get the brace off, but he literally only has to hold on for twelve more hours until it’s time for his appointment. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he keeps his book in his lap, his neck bent at an awkward angle as he tries to continue reading it. The wolf hybrid’s chest is falling and rising a little heavier than normal, a faint flush creeping up his neck as he keeps squirming, his gold tinted eyes nearly burning through the pages with the intensity in his gaze. You place your book down on the couch with a sigh.

“Namjoon,” You can feel your heart still in your chest as the wolf hybrid’s dark eyes

immediately fly up to find yours, his knuckles turning white from the tight grip he has around the bound pages. “You know it’ll be easier to read your book if you– Oh,” Your mouth runs dry. You had snatched the book out of Namjoon’s hand to bring it up higher, but it didn’t quite cross your mind that maybe it had been placed there .. strategically. Namjoon is big, and the thick bulge straining against the gray fabric of his sweatpants leaves absolutely nothing to your imagination.

Your forcibly tear your eyes away, cheeks burning with embarrassment as you hastily flip the book around to get a proper look at the cover. It appears that Namjoon must’ve found the books you had stashed away in the other bedroom, those that are just tastefully decorated porn. “Shit, I’m sorry,” Namjoon’s voice is caught between a growl and a whine, the sound strangled and unsure as he reaches for his crutches, “I’ll just uh, go take a cold shower.”

“Do you want me to help?” You snap your mouth shut, horrified at the words that just bypassed your filter. The crutches scatter to the floor as the wolf hybrid turns back to face you, his voice breathless as he says, “What?”

You carefully place Namjoon’s book down on the couch, unsure if you should take the out he inadvertently just gave you. You know this is going into territory beyond just friends or roommates, but then again, your relationship is already a little too intimate to just call it that. But, you still don’t know if that’s because Namjoon has been depraved of human touch for so long that he’s trying to catch up to everything he missed out on, or because he actually likes you. You’ve already accepted your growing feelings for Namjoon, but you’re not sure this is a risk you’re willing to take. You should probably pretend that this never happened. You jump as Namjoon gently tilts your head up, his golden eyes dark as he says, “Y/n, what did you ask me?”

Or maybe, for once in your life, you should take a risk. The wolf hybrid’s gaze follows your throat as you swallow dryly, your heart beating wildly in your chest as you softly repeat, ”Do you want me to help?” The low growl that spills from Namjoon’s mouth makes your thighs clench.

“Fuck,” Namjoon curses, the dark look in his eyes growing wilder as he rasps out a strained, “Please.” Your knees hit the floor before you can even think about it, and another low growl rumbles in Namjoon’s chest as you look up at him.

“Your leg,” You eye the awkward way Namjoon has twisted himself, the wolf hybrid letting out an impatient huff as you wait for him to settle down properly on the couch. You slowly trail your fingers up his good leg once he’s situated, the injured one resting on the coffee table behind your back. You shuffle forward until you’re properly kneeling between Namjoon’s outstretched thighs, your hands resting on the firm muscles.

You keep your eyes locked on the wolf hybrid as you ease your hands up under his baggy shirt. You suck in a breath as you feel the taut and defined abs underneath your fingertips, the muscles jumping as you explore Namjoon’s body. You knew that the wolf hybrid was in good shape after being so active for many years, but the extra food and proper nutrition he’s been getting ever since you brought him home has really filled him out in the right places. You push Namjoon’s shirt up as your fingers trail higher, the firm skin making you bite back a moan. Namjoon is absolutely ripped. Goosebumps rise on Namjoon’s skin as he lets your hands slide across his stomach, the heavy breaths falling from his lips hitching as they glide down down down until your fingers are hooked into the waistband of his sweats. His hips rise off the couch enough to help you pull them off, and the wolf hybrid hastily works his good leg out of the material to give you more room. Namjoon’s hard cock is straining against his boxers, a patch of pre-cum already seeping through the material.

”Fuck, you’re big,” You breathe, biting down harshly on your lips as the wolf hybrid’s cock twitches at your words. Namjoon lets out a raspy whine as you press soft kisses to the inside of his thighs, not stopping until you reach the dark fabric clinging to his hips.

”Is this still okay?” You check, your cunt clenching around nothing as you look up to see how just wrecked Namjoon already looks. The wolf hybrid’s pupils are blown wide, and the veins in his arms look like they’re ready to pop out of his skin from how tightly he’s gripping onto the couch. Namjoon barely manages to nod before he throws his head back with a moan, your hot breath spilling across his skin as you lean down to mouth at his clothed cock. You lick against the already damp material, your nose trailing along the thick length. It doesn’t take long before Namjoon’s chest rumbles, his voice low and deep as he says, ”Y/n, no teasing.”

A shot of arousal travels down your spine at the wolf hybrid’s dominating tone, and you waste no time pulling his boxers down his legs, Namjoon quickly stepping out of it like he did with his sweats. Your nails dig lightly into the wolf hybrid’s thighs as you take in the sight of his cock, the thick and long length making your eyes widen. Namjoon is so big you can’t even properly close your fist around him, his shaft already glistening with pre-cum. You quickly rub your thumb across his slit as another drop forms, using it to coat the rest of his length as you lean in closer, just enough to press feather light kisses to the head of it. The wolf hybrid gasps at the contact, and you peak up to find his eyes shut tight, a light sheen of sweat on his face as he strains to hold himself back from touching you, tail wagging wildly behind his back. You press another kiss to the pinkish head of his cock, the pressure a little firmer as you open your mouth enough to take him in, swirling your tongue around the tip.

”Fuck, you feel so good,” Namjoon moans. His thighs clenches at the wet hotness around his cock, fingers twitching by his side as he digs them into the couch cushions. You begin to push down further on his length, trying your best to relax your throat as you slowly bob your head on Namjoon’s cock, hand stroking the rest of it to match the rhythm of your mouth. You moan as you feel the heavy weight of the wolf hybrid’s cock resting on your tongue, the slightly salty taste only spurring you on further as you tighten your lips around him. You slide your free hand up his thigh, grasping his tense fingers to bring them to your hair. You can tell Namjoon was itching to touch by the way he immediately gathers your soft locks between his fingers, curling them until he has a nice grip behind your head.

”Baby,” You look up just in time to meet Namjoon’s hooded gaze, a whine pressing up your throat at the desperate hunger in his eyes. The vibrations makes the wolf hybrid’s hips jerk, the sudden motion making you choke as his cock brushes against the back of your throat. The grip in your hair tightens as Namjoon tries to pull your back, but the apology dies on his lips as you deliberately swallow him down even further, refusing to let him tug you off.

“Look at you,” The wolf hybrid groans, ”You were made for this, weren’t you baby?” You can only hum in response, Namjoon’s words making your cunt throb with need as you futilely try to rub your thighs together to create some friction. The wolf hybrid’s hand follows the movements of your head as you up your pace, your lips coming down to touch the fingers wrapped around his base as you take him in faster. Your name rolls of Namjoon’s tongue like a prayer as he watches you swallow down his cock, his abs clenching as you don’t let up on the speed.

”Fuck, your mouth looks so pretty stuffed full of my cock,” Namjoon growls. Trying to not choke on the stiff length in your mouth has distracted you enough that you don’t notice the weight forming underneath your fingers until you’re staring down at a fully formed knot. You don’t have much time to think about it before you feel Namjoon’s grip in your hair tighten, his chest rumbling as he helps you swallow down another inch of his cock. You’re almost at the base, almost touching his knot with only a couple of fingers between the taut skin and your lips.

“I– shit, I'm not going to last.” Tears spring to your eyes as you hum around the wolf hybrid’s length, the vibrations making Namjoon’s breaths turn harsher, louder, as your determination grows. You can feel Namjoon’s impending orgasm before he even manages to stutter out a broken warning, the grip in your hair bordering on painful as you suck harder, your tongue dragging along his length one last time before you feel the knot under your fingers begin to throb.

”Oh, fuck– Baby,” You cling to Namjoon’s toned thighs, nails digging into his skin as you feel the first burst of cum hit your throat. The wolf hybrid’s hard cock pulses as he lets out a loud moan, the tail behind his back stilling as he releases his load. You whimper as you feel spurt after spurt trail down your throat, breathing becoming more and more difficult until you’re forced to pull back to swallow it down easier. You gently bob your head, hand once again stroking Namjoon’s length as you coax him through his orgasm.

“Y/n,” Namjoon whines, his legs beginning to tremble from overstimulation as you swipe your tongue one last time over the head of his cock, swallowing down the last of the salty substance lingering in your mouth. You can feel the wetness between your own legs as you pull back to press a chaste kiss to Namjoon’s knee, the wolf hybrid loosening the grip he has on your hair to gently massage his fingers into your scalp. A blowjob has never left you so turned on before, but as Namjoon’s gentle touches against the dull stinging in your scalp continues, the throbbing between your legs is forced to take a backseat as your heart overflows with fondness at how he always finds a way to take care of you too.

You glance up to find Namjoon’s warm eyes already looking at you, the hunger in them still there. ”Let me return the favour,” Namjoon rasps as the hand in your hair glides down over your shoulders, all the way down to the hand resting on his leg. You want it so bad, but– ”Later,” You wince at the hoarseness in your throat, gently patting Namjoon’s injured leg as you say, “Let’s save it for later when your leg has healed.”

”Hmm, you better baby,” The air gets knocked out of your lungs at the smirk Namjoon gives you, the points of his canines just poking out over his lips as he leans back to catch his breath. You take the moment to marvel at the golden skin under your hands, at how Namjoon’s muscles dance underneath your fingertips. Baby. It makes your head swim in the best way. You grin as you trail a finger over the wolf hybrid’s softening cock, Namjoon’s good leg kicking out in protest as you touch the sensitive skin. He’s still dripping, the knot at the base of his cock almost gone. You push up from your knees with a soft groan, but Namjoon catches your hand before you can leave, his gray ears pulling back.

”Where are you going?” The worry in his handsome feature is obvious, and you reach out to smooth the furrow between his brows.

”I’m just going to get a towel to get you cleaned up,” You smile. You can tell the wolf hybrid is still reluctant to let you go, but he eventually relents, squeezing your fingers before he releases it.

You almost grimace at your own reflection as you run the towel under the lukewarm water. You look absolutely wrecked.Your hair is a mess, and you quickly splash some water on your face to attempt to make yourself look a little more presentable. Namjoon cleans himself up quickly as you go to grab something to soothe the rasp in your throat, the wolf hybrid readjusting his sweats around his hips as you settle down next to him.

”Namjoon–” Your breath hitches as he suddenly leans in, the wolf hybrid’s hand reaching up to cup your cheek as he places soft pecks against your lips. You melt into his touch, eagerly moving your mouth against his as you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers curling into the long hair at his nape. A pleased rumble sounds from Namjoon’s chest as you open you lips enough for his tongue to meet yours. You allow yourself to drown in Namjoon – the gentle touch on your cheek and the passionate kisses pulling you under until your mind grows hazy, your lungs screaming for air when you finally break away from his lips.

The wolf hybrid wastes no time moving his lips down your jaw, pressing gentle pecks against your skin all the way down to your neck. Namjoon’s tail wags steadily behind his back as he inhales your scent, the soft kisses turning into nips and licks as he marks your throat. You try your best to get your ragged breath under control as Namjoon takes his time scenting your neck. The wolf hybrid presses a kiss just below your ear; his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he murmurs out a fond, “I like you so much.”

”What?” You squeak, your eyes growing wide as you tug Namjoon back. Even if this is what you’ve been dying to hear, you can’t help but feel a little anxious. Anxious that this might be a mistake, that Namjoon’s affection might be a little misplaced, but still– ”I like you,” He repeats, the confidence in his voice wavering as he says, ”I don’t want this to just be a one time thing. I want this – us – to be more.”

You find yourself nodding along to Namjoon’s words before he’s even finished, a shy grin blooming on your face as you say, ”Me too. I like you too, so much.” Namjoon’s face lights up like the sun at your confession, his ears perked and his tail moving so quickly behind his back you can’t even keep track of it. The pure adoration you find in the wolf hybrid’s eyes make you flush, but Jihyo’s words keep you from pulling away. You have no guarantees that this will work out, but you know that you would be a fool if you don’t even try.

”Good,” Namjoon grins. You card your fingers through Namjoon’s silver locks, just high enough to scratch gently behind one of the wolf hybrid’s ears. Namjoon turns into putty in your hands, his head slumping against your shoulder to allow you easier access to his ears as he lets out a pleased noise. You let out a small giggle, brushing your lips against his cheek as you whisper, ”Good.”

“So ..” You extend your arm behind you, watching Namjoon intently as you say, ”What do you think?” The wolf hybrid’s head tilts as he takes in his surroundings, his gray ears twitching as he tries to pinpoint where all the different sounds are coming from. You’re standing in front of a quaint little cottage in the woods, about an hour drive away from the city and your current apartment. You had fallen head over heels for the property the moment you first saw it, the beautiful stone and wood building screaming your name as you had clicked through the photos. It does need a little TLC, but it’s nothing you and Namjoon can’t fix. The cottage looks like a dream with the lush trees and colourful flowers encasing it, and you can’t help but think that this is the home you’ve been waiting for. The wolf hybrid’s face is unreadable as his golden eyes scan the area, but you notice that his tail twitches, as if he’s trying to hold himself back from getting excited.

“What’s this?” Namjoon strides around the car with ease, no trace of his injury left as he intertwines your fingers with his.

“Well, it’s ours. If you want it,” You bite down on your lip in anticipation as surprise flickers across Namjoon’s face, the wolf hybrid quickly moving his gaze back to the cottage, and the dense woods behind it. “I do,” Namjoon breathes, a brilliant smile settling on his face, “It’s perfect.”

“Oh thank god,” You sigh dramatically, collapsing against the wolf hybrid’s side as he rolls his eyes. He quickly wraps his arm around your shoulder, tugging you close enough to nose against your neck.

”But are you sure you want to leave the city?” Namjoon says, his tone a little worried at the prospect of you leaving everything you have behind.

You circle your arms around the wolf hybrid’s waist, shifting your position enough to allow you to look up at Namjoon’s face as you say, ”I can write anywhere. The only thing that I need is you,” You rise slightly off the ground, just enough to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. ”And good Wi-Fi,” You add with a grin.

Namjoon snorts as he dips his head down to fit his lips properly against yours, the kiss lazy and sweet as the early summer breeze ruffles your hair. The last four months have thrown you for a loop you never could have expected, but as you stand here with Namjoon, you realize that maybe that’s the beauty of it all. Life might be uncertain, but what isn’t, is that you love Namjoon, and Namjoon loves you back. And that’s all you need to know.

a/n: it took some time but out of the woods is finally finished! i really hope you enjoyed wolf!namjoon’s solo story, he’s really just a big babie and he deserves the best. :( if you liked the story then please drop me a reblog/comment, that would mean the world to me! as always, see you all soon and stay safe! <3 and in case you enjoy my stories and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here! 💖 i would really appreciate the support!

#hybrid bts #hybrid namjoon #namjoon x reader #bts x reader #namjoon smut #hybrid!bts #bts au #bts fluff #bts smut #hybrid au #hybridbtsnetwork #out of the woods

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shemarmooresfedora · 4 years ago

Text

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

A/N: this may be my favorite chapter yet. i originally was going to delay this chapter a day but the wonderful comments gave me motivation to write. i beg of you to play the song when i write it starts playing...enjoy!

Masterlist

Chapter 12

“Yes, yes, yes!” Spencer excitedly left the hospital, immediately calling you.

“Y/N Y/L/N” you answered, having not checked the caller ID first.

“Guess what?” Spencer smiled.

“Hi Spence. What?” your tone instantly became lighter across the phone.

“The doctor cleared me. I don’t need crutches anymore!” Spencer exclaimed.

“Oh my god, that’s great! I know how much you hated them,” you responded.

“Yes, I did not like not being able to help you with Jo as much. But do you know what this also means…” he prompted.

“What?” you asked.

“I will actually be able to walk around and

take you on a real date ,” he beamed.

“Looking forward to it,” you grinned.

“How about tonight?” he asked excitedly.

“What about Jo?”

“JJ’s,” he replied quickly.

Clearly, he had already thought this through completely.

“Okay. I’d ask you what time you’re picking me up but we are both living in the same place right now so I’ll see you at home,” you giggled.

“See you at home,” he repeated with a massive smile plastered on his face.

“Mommy, why can’t I come?” Jo pouted, clinging on to your neck as you brought her out to the car.

“Me and Daddy are going to do BORING adult things,” you pretended to snore, “You don’t want to come, Baby J. You get to go have a fun playdate with Henry. I’m so jealous.”

You buckled her in and closed the car door, feeling arms wrap around your waist.

“Boring?” Spencer asked, feigning hurt.

“So boring,” you teased, giving him a kiss.

“You look beautiful by the way,” Spencer earnestly looked into your eyes.

You opened your mouth to respond but there was a faint knock on the car window.

“The princess is getting impatient,” he chuckled, climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Hi!” JJ greeted the three of you at the door as you set Jo down who immediately ran inside in search of her best friend.

“Thank you for watching her,” you said.

“Oh, of course. Don’t worry about it! Now, go! Don’t waste any more of your night off talking to me,” she ushered you away.

“Bye! I’ll text you when we’re on our way back to get her,” Spencer waved.

Spencer then grabbed your hand, interlocking your fingers and pulling you back towards the car as your head fell back in delightful laughter.

“You know it’s funny,” JJ said to Will as they were watching you two out the window, “Before I even knew that they had a history together, I was considering setting them up together.”

“What made you think that?” Will questioned, “I mean they’re both very nice people but I wouldn’t have thought about that.”

“I don’t know. I just felt like there could be something between them...turns out there already was,” she smiled.

Spencer pulled the car up to a beautiful patio dining area overlooking a lake. It was dusk and the sun was setting so stringed lights were hung up all around the tables.

“Spence, I heard it takes like a year to get a reservation here,” you looked at him incredulously.

“I have my ways,” he kissed your hand, “Come on.”

You walked up to the hostess with your hands interlocked.

“Dr. Spencer Reid for two,” he politely said to her.

“Right this way,” she guided you to your table with menus in her hand.

Spencer, ever the gentleman, pulled out your chair for you. You thanked the hostess but your eyes never left Spencer.

Once Spencer was seated, a silence fell over the two of you.

“This is kind of an awkward first date because we already know everything about each other,” you admitted.

“Yes, we are doing things a little backwards but at least I know I already love every single thing about you,” Spencer smiled.

You blushed, “Ditto.”

“Hey there,” the waitress approached your table, “What can I get started for you both?”

“I’ll have a glass of red wine please,” you said.

“I’ll just have water, thanks. Also, can we get spring rolls as an appetizer,” Spencer asked.

“Sure thing, I’ll be right back with those,” she wrote your order down in her notepad and left the table.

“Why am I surprised you remembered my affinity for spring rolls?” you laughed.

“I know it’s technically impossible for me to forget anything but even if I didn’t have an eidetic memory, I still wouldn’t forget a single thing about you,” he spoke.

You felt your cheeks heat up yet again.

“You have always had a way with words, Dr. Reid,” you took a sip from the wine glass that the waitress placed in front of you to hide your bashful grin.

You were headed back to JJ’s after a wonderful dinner. You were on a backroad and it was starting to drizzle. The radio was playing softly as you played with Spencer’s fingers in your hand.

Signed, Signed, Delivered by Stevie Wonder began to play through the radio. Spencer excitedly turned to look at you.

“This is our song, remember?” he beamed.

“Yeah, I remember,” you giggled.

Before you know what was happening, Spencer had pulled the car over and turned the radio up loudly.

He let go of your hand and exited the car.

“Spence, it’s raining!” you laughed.

“Good thing we have a dryer at home. Come on!” he walked around to your side, opening your car door and offering his hand.

You accepted and he pulled you out of the car, twirling you around. You danced around hand in hand, splashing in puddles without a care in the world.

You and Spencer were both singing at the top of your lungs, occasionally breaking from the lyrics to let out a joyous laugh. As the song faded out, he dipped you down, smiling widely. You slicked his wet hair back as he pulled you in for a kiss.

You didn’t know how long the kiss lasted but you finally pulled apart when there was a loud honk in front of you. A car was stopped in the road, waiting for you to finish your makeout session in the middle of the street.

“Sorry!” Spencer called out to the driver as you both giddily ran back to your car.

You kissed him once more once you were back inside the safety of the car.

You were grinning like fools when Will opened the door.

“Do I want to know?” Will chuckled, gesturing at your soaked clothes.

“I think it’s better if we keep it to ourselves,” you smiled.

JJ came around the corner with a sleepy Jo in her arms.

“Well it looks like you two had fun,” she said as she handed Jo to Spencer.

“Thank you again. If you guys ever want to go out, we can watch Henry,” you offered.

“It’s really not a problem but we may take you up on that some time. Have a good night, guys,” JJ smiled.

“Daddy, why are you wet?” Jo asked curiously.

“Mommy and Daddy had to walk in the rain back to their car after the long meeting,” Spencer pretended to sound unamused as to not let the child know about your fun night without her.

“Me and Henry had mac and cheese for dinner and then we played dinosaurs and then we watched Finding Nemo,” Jo informed you both on the drive home.

“Well it sounds like you had an exciting night,” you smiled.

Once you got home, Spencer offered to tuck Jo into bed while you changed out of your damp clothes.

You peeked into the room just as Spencer was giving her a kiss on the forehead and getting up from the bed.

“I should go,” Spencer spoke softly.

“Or...you could stay,” you offered quietly.

Spencer smiled, “The latter sounds much better.”

“Now go change into sweats from my closet before you catch a cold,” you ushered him into your room.

You went downstairs to give Spencer some privacy, turning the kettle on to heat up and taking out two mugs.

You slowly made your way back upstairs with two warm mugs of chamomile tea. You tapped slightly at the door before entering.

“Thank you,” Spencer accepted the mug into his hands, giving you a quick kiss.

“I’m going to put our clothes in the dryer and then I’ll be right back,” he said, taking a sip of the tea before setting it down on the nightstand.

Spencer returned a few minutes later, getting in under the comforters and wrapping one arm around you. You both sipped your tea in a comfortable silence as the rain continued to pour down outside.

“Chamomile tea’s health benefits include protecting against diarrhea, nausea, stomach ulcers, and gas,” Spencer stated.

“Ever the romantic, Dr. Reid,” you giggled, resting your head on his shoulder.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #cm fanfic #reid x reader #spencer x reader #criminal minds

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missymurphy1985 · 4 years ago

Text

It's Just Business

You've never mixed business with pleasure, but sometimes, these things are outside of your control.

Opening the door to your hotel room, you sighed. Throwing your bag onto the double bed, swiftly followed by your body, you pulled the pillow over your head and screamed.

"This is ridiculous y/n, YOU are ridiculous!!"

It was never meant to be more than a business deal. A deal with the Peaky Blinders to gain exclusive rights to the southern racetracks in England. You and your brothers would have control over them, while the Blinders remained in control of the Midlands. The deal went to plan, and you'd spent the evening in the Garrison celebrating.

Flashback

"I'm heading back to my hotel, Tommy, I can barely stand up straight!!" You smiled, and turned to grab your bag and coat from the arm of the chair.

"Let me walk you home at least, y/n, you look a little.. unsteady?" Tommy linked your arm with his and you both headed back to your hotel. Talking along the way, you met a different side to him. One that you hadn't expected. You spoke about his gin business, and his export licence that was soon to be granted.

"Gin eh? Now that sounds interesting, I'd like to try this gin of yours some day." You stumbled slightly on the steps and he held tighter to your arm.

"Falling for me already Miss y/l/n? Haven't even had a sip of the gin yet.." he smirked, leading you off the path to your hotel and walking you towards his office. You smiled back, and took his arm again, allowing him to lead the way.

Once inside his office, he sat you down at his large oak desk and picked up a bottle of his gin from the cupboard and two glasses. Making his way back to his side of the desk, he poured you each a small glass and raised a toast.

"Here's to the cure for incurable sadness y/n.. and here's to our new business arrangement." You clinked your glass with his and took a sip, grimacing slightly.

"Well Mr Shelby, you didn't skimp on the sugar in this did you now? Wow.. very sweet indeed.."

"The Americans like it sweet, I'm hoping to expand that side of the Atlantic now, have to give the punters what they want."

"And do you always give people what they want, Mr Shelby?" You stood, feeling a sudden surge of confidence, possibly caused by the sharp intake of sugar. He leaned back in his chair, watching you approach him slowly, a slight smirk on his lips as he looked your body up and down.

"Depends on the request, y/n.."

"I'm not used to not getting what I want, Thomas. And I know exactly what I want." You leaned against the desk, right next to him as you say yourself on it, crossing your legs seductively, lifting your dress slightly to expose your lower legs. He looked in your eyes, a hand gently caressing your ankle, moving further up to your knees. He looked at your face for any signs of hesitation before moving his hand further up your thigh, parting your legs slightly to allow access.

You gasped at the feeling of his fingers, brushing over your now damp underwear as you shuddered, his finger lighting brushing your clit over the lace underwear.

"I see.. and what exactly is it you're requesting, Miss y/l/n?" You felt your core burning, desperate for more. Parting your legs, you felt him push the panties to one side, running a finger over your slit to feel just how wet you were, hot and ready.

Tommy couldn't wait any longer, his erection pressing hard against his suit trousers begging for release. He stood between your wide open legs and lifted your dress above your hips, grinding his against your core roughly.

"I want you buried deep inside me Thomas, I want you to fuck me on this table, right now.. think you can manage that?" Tommy smiled, loving this confident side of you, taking charge. You ran your hand down to his now twitching bulge, before leaning in to kiss him hard, your fingers tugging at his belt and zip. He'd normally take things much slower, but the need inside him overtook him, he needed to feel you NOW. Allowing his trousers and underwear to fall, he pulled your underwear down and pressed his cock against your mound, returning his lips to yours in a passionate, rough kiss. You pushed your hips against his, feeling his cock rub against your clit you gasped. He lined himself up against your entrance and pushed in hard, both of you released a low moan in response. Keeping you upright, he moved his hands down to your hips and rocked you against him as he pounded into you, hard and fast against his desk.

You leaned back slightly, moving a hand between you to rub your clit as he took you. The sight nearly made him cum there and then, he'd never seen a sight as sexy as this.

"Rub it baby, make yourself cum on my cock yeah? Fuck you feel good..." He continued his thrusts, watching your fingers circle over yourself, occasionally bringing them up to his lips for him to taste you and add extra moisture, before bringing them back down to continue circling, pressing harder each time.

Your body began to twitch, his cock hitting the right spot with each thrust and you fingers taking you even closer.

"Tommy I'm close... Fuck... Cum with me please, harder.. need it harder..." He complied and fucked you as deep as possible, pushing you back onto the table so you were on your back, lifting a leg against his chest for a deeper thrust. His fingers took over from yours, rubbing your clit harder and faster as your orgasm swamped you, your soaked core soaking both him and the table underneath you. With a groan and two more hard thrusts, he came undone, spilling inside you.

You both lay there, him resting on top of you, for a while, catching your breath. You softly ran your fingers through his hair as he kissed your still covered breasts lightly.

"Y/n, I'm sorry.. I took advantage of you.. this was wrong. Your brother might have a few choice words for me about this y/n." Tommy lifted himself from you and pulled his trousers back up. You lifted yourself up, pulling your underwear back up and straightening your dress back down.

"I approached you, Mr Shelby, not the other way around. As for my brother, he's fucking most of London, I wouldn't worry too much about him." Tommy smiled.

"So maybe I can see you again?" You nodded, before planting a gentle kiss on his lips. He held you close, inhaling your scent, feeling things he hadn't felt for a long time about anyone. You were something else, he couldn't get enough of you, and you felt it too, before pulling him back down on top of you, the kiss becoming hungrier again.

Present day

You sat up in the bed, a wave of nausea coming over you again as you lurched to the en suite to allow your dinner to evacuate. Three months you'd been sleeping with Tommy, and three days you'd been feeling the symptoms you were trying so hard to ignore. Sore breasts, sickness, backache, mood swings. A doctor back in London had confirmed your suspicions that morning, and you were cursing yourself for it. How could you be so stupid?

You heard the door to your Small Heath hotel room knock, and open. Then the voice of the man you were desperate to avoid.

"Y/n, are you here? Woah, now, you okay?" He heard you in the bathroom, throwing up.

"Don't come in here Tommy, I'm fine don't worry!" He ignored you, coming in to hold your hair back. Running his hands over your back soothing you as you caught your breath. You couldn't help it, the tears leaving your eyes as you felt his comforting hands on you. "Just something I've eaten, that's all, it's passed now, I'm okay.." he looked at you, still unsure, as he lifted you from the floor. Fetching you a glass of water, he led you over to the bed.

"Come lie down with me, eh?" He lay down, motioning for you to join him.

"I don't think I'm up for that, Tommy.."

Chuckling, he shook his head. "I know, just come lie down, yeah?" You lay in his arms, back against his chest. You felt so safe and comfortable in his arms.. but was it enough? Would he still want you now?

He kissed your neck gently, his arms wrapping round your stomach. He felt you tense.

"What's wrong?"

"No.. no nothing...just a bit sore from being sick is all..." You mumbled, hoping he believed you. Without warning he placed a warm, comforting hand across your belly, suddenly stopping. You tried to move his hand away but it was no good, he was stronger. He felt the slightly rounded skin.. the harder belly that was usually so soft.. he pulled back, sitting up. You felt the tears coming back.

"How long have you known?" He asked, voice catching in his throat. He remembered Ada being newly pregnant and she'd allowed him to feel her belly as it changed, he was fascinated by it. He recognised it, much to your discomfort.

"I found out this morning.. Tommy I'm so sorry, I don't think I can go through with this..." His heart lurched. He'd felt himself falling in love with you, and now you were carrying his child and you were contemplating getting rid of it.. Swallowing his emotions, he took a deep breath in and pulled you to face him, both of you sat on the bed looking into each others eyes. His hand remained on your belly, a surge of emotion flew threw him.

"Nearly 3 months gone already, Tommy. It must have happened that first night.. I need to do something about this quickly..."

"Do you really want this? You really want to? You know I can take care of you, both of you.. there's nothing either of you will want for again?"

"Tommy I don't want your help financially, I can manage on my own.. I always thought this would happen once I'd married.. with a man who would be a father to our child, not just a financial crutch.. my baby needs a father.."

"Our baby, y/n.. ours. We made this little person.. a little you and me. A perfect combination of us both... Why is this such a bad idea, eh?" You felt tears sting your eyes again.

"Because no one knows we're even sleeping together Tommy, no one has any idea at all, and the repercussions..."

"What repercussions? Your brother?" You nodded, a year escaping. "Your brother and I are fine y/n, I almost see him as a fourth brother of my own. I've learned I can trust him - more than any business partner I've ever had before. I'm sure he will be as thrilled about this as I am -"

"You're thrilled??" You interrupted quickly.

"Yes, y/n.. I am. I'll marry you tomorrow if you'll let me.. just think about all of this please, yeah"" He leaned you back onto the bed softly, taking your lips against his own. You sighed against this kiss, this one feeling different to any other you'd shared. You felt an unexpected love radiating from him, and you felt it too, more than you'd care to admit.

"You really think this will work, Tommy?"

"I plan on showing you every single day how much this will work y/n... And just how much I love yo."" Another tear left your eye, he said it.. he actually said it.

"I.. Tommy please don't be saying this because of the baby..."

"I'm saying this because I mean it. I love you, I love our baby, and I'll marry you. Be my wife y/n, marry me?" You burst into tears. Fucking pregnancy hormones...

"Yes.. yes Thomas Shelby I'll fucking marry you!" You leaned into his arms, kissing his mouth, he didn't care that you'd been sick, he needed to feel you.

"Mrs Shelby-to-be... Let's get you cleaned up shall we? We have a few announcements to make." He smiled, kissing you again, he swore he could see his entire future in your eyes, this baby, more babies, your wedding day, grandchildren.. it was all there for the taking and he couldn't wait.

Taglist - message me to be added!

@ntmynouis @queenshelby @peakyscillian

#tommy x y/n #tommy x fem!reader #cillian smut #cillian x fem!reader #peaky blinders x reader #cillian murphy #cillian x smut

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moonlit-jeno · 4 years ago

Text

evanescence (m.)

pairing: kim jungwoo x fem. reader

genre/warnings: ghost au, explicit sexual content, angst, fluff, mentions of death, some graphic violence/ gore, character death, brief mention of heights, i swear it’s not as bad as it sounds

word count: 7.8k

summary:

evanescence (n.): the quality of being fleeting or vanishing quickly; impermanence; i.e the evanescence of dreams

song to listen to: me & your ghost- blackbear, faded in my last song- nct, trampoline- SHAED, lonely heart- 5 seconds of summer, dreaming with a broken heart- john mayer

notes: evanescence i.e not the band who wrote my immortal <3 part of the almost collab!

The thing about fear is that it’s irrational.

Of course the doll in the corner of your room won’t suddenly come alive and kill you. Of course the spider on your ceiling is actually harmless. Of course nightmares won’t come true and haunt you in your daily life, won’t do more than bother you for a few minutes when you’re asleep. Knowing that doesn’t make it any less scary. Doesn’t stop the shivers from crawling up your spine, doesn’t ease your breathing when you curl into yourself in an attempt to hide.

Some people find comfort in crawling under their blankets, hiding themselves from the rest of the world as if the thick cloth will protect them. You don’t have that luxury. Because the thing you fear isn’t some axe murderer breaking into your house, or some mutant spider wrapping you up in a web. It’s not ghosts or ghouls or demons.

It’s sleep itself.

You used to love sleeping. Naps were considered a favorite hobby of yours, a way to escape from your obligations temporarily or lift your spirits during a bad day. But the line between like and dislike is thin, and the peaceful dreams you were accustomed to transformed into terrors that torture your nights and leave you shaking and sleep deprived when you wake.

Coffee becomes your best friend, the drink becoming a crutch that you use desperately to avoid reliving the nightmare that haunts you every time your eyes fall shut. It’s always the same scene: a basement, a young man being tortured by a masked figure. Punched, strangled, stabbed. It’s always in that order, with the exact same amount of punches and stabbings each time- six. It’s worse than any movie you’ve ever seen, worse than anything that you can imagine. And yet it doesn’t get any less horrifying as time goes on, as you relive the same thing over and over again.

The only thing that changes is the point of view. Sometimes you can see it from his perspective, begging for mercy from an expressionless figure whose ears fall deaf to the boy’s pleas. That’s the worst, you think, because you can feel everything. It leaves you frantically checking yourself for wounds and marks and bruises, the vividness of your dream leaving you shocked when you find your skin unmarred. Sometimes you watch from the corner of the room, able to see everything yet unable to help, your voice stuck in your throat when you attempt to cry for help. And sometimes, you’re the killer, repeatedly delivering blow after blow in a body you can’t control.

Tonight’s different. Instead of the boy strapped to the chair, it’s you.

You shake and cry out, trying desperately to free yourself of the restraints. They aren’t strong, and yet your limbs feel like jelly and you can’t break free of them. A shadow looms over you and you look up, expecting to see the killer, but you don’t. Instead, the boy stands over you.

His features are softer like this, not scrunched in pain or splattered with blood and bruises. He smiles gently at you.

“Hello,” He says, kneeling down in front of you. One hand lands on yours and the restraints fall away, your limbs now free. “I’m Jungwoo.” You just blink at him. “I’ve seen you in my dreams.” Jungwoo’s smile falters a bit, and he huffs a humorless laugh. “That… yeah. That’s less of a dream and more of a…” He trails off, shrugs. “Memory.”

It takes a moment for it to process fully. Memory? If that’s his memory, then that means that he had to go through all of that. “I’m- I’m so sorry. Who put you through that?” He shrugs. “Dunno. But I wouldn’t pity me too much.” There’s a tight lipped smile on his face. “I’m the one that’s made you go through it, too.”

You blink once, twice, and feel the sympathy in your bones turn to fury. “Why?” You ask, tears brimming at your eyes. “I didn’t do anything to you! And you still tortured me, every night. Do you know how terrified I was? I am?”

“I’m sorry.” Jungwoo says, eyes downcast. “I didn’t even know I was projecting onto you at first. I would just get so consumed with what happened that night, and I guess you would relive the scene with me.” He takes a slow step towards you and raises his head. “I never meant to hurt you, I’m sorry.” You nod, because what can you say? Jungwoo doesn’t seem to know either and he stands there, shifting from foot to foot, looking everywhere but at you. “So.” You start, head tilting to the side curiously. “How does this work?” “How does what work?” Jungwoo seems surprised, but whether it’s by your question or by the fact that you’re able to string a coherent sentence together is lost on you.

“I dunno. This. Like are you a ghost? Do you just like, live inside my head now.” “Yeah, I mean I’m dead so I must be a ghost. Haven’t had much time to talk to people and ask.” It’s not meant to be funny, but you can’t stop yourself from laughing. You clear your throat to cover it, trying to focus your energy on your next words. He doesn’t look too hurt at your amusement, though. His eyes are twinkling.

“Hmm let’s test it. If you live in my head, you should be able to hear my thoughts right?” Jungwoo stares at you, bringing one hand up to stroke his chin thoughtfully. Finally, he snaps his fingers. “Got it! You want pizza.” “Nope! I want you out of my head.” Your smile is sickeningly sweet. Jungwoo rolls his eyes, tongue sticking into his cheek briefly before laughing.

“Well, I want to be alive but here we are. Guess we’re at a standstill.”

Guilt fills you and you open your mouth to apologize, but Jungwoo disappears right before your eyes. You try to call out after him but it’s too late, the dream’s over. The annoying beep of your alarm replaces his soft laughter and you groan, fumbling with your phone to turn the sound off.

Classes pass quickly for once, although you’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t register any of the material. You’re done for the day before you know it, finding yourself at a cafe with Johnny. “You’re in a good mood.” He comments, looking at you with his eyebrows furrowed. “Did you get replaced by aliens?” You roll your eyes. “I can be in a good mood, Johnny.” It’s rarely true because you’re normally running off of approximately six minutes of sleep, but hey, it still counts.

Johnny raises his eyebrows. “Y/n, you’re never in a good mood. Not even when your best friend is here.”

“My best friend is here? Where?” Johnny gives you a deadpan expression and you laugh, popping a grape into your mouth. “Kidding, you know I love you. But guess what: I actually slept last night!” He gasps so obnoxiously loud that he inhales the chip he was holding and chokes around it, slamming his hand down on the table and hacking his lungs out. You put your head in your hands until he finally recovers. “You slept? You actually slept? Holy fuck, you did get replaced by aliens!”

“No aliens, John. No nightmares either.” Johnny, though he’s your best friend, doesn’t know the details of your dreams. He knows that they’re bad enough to make you cry and curl up in his arms from time to time, knows that you chug energy drinks to avoid sleeping, but that’s about it. No gruesome murders in sight for him.

“Holy shit, that’s great! We should celebrate.” Johnny reaches across the table to high five you, grinning from ear to ear. “Wanna come over and crack open a few cold ones?” He bites his lip and you know that it’s taking all of his effort not to finish that sentence.

You appreciate it, but you shake your head. “I’ve got a lab report to finish plus like two papers due. I really don’t have time.” That’s only slightly true. Yes, you do have homework, but you normally wouldn’t let that stop you. The itch to see Jungwoo again, however crazy it may sound, is driving you crazy and for once in your life, you can’t wait to fall asleep. Seeing Johnny’s expression drop makes you feel a little bad for bailing on him with a ghost. “Maybe this weekend?”

“Yeah, for sure.” Johnny grins again. “Hopefully you get to sleep tonight.”

The nightmares seem to go away permanently after that. Your dreams always take place in that one room, but Jungwoo’s always there to greet you. A month passes and you learn a lot about him, almost to the point where you see him as a friend. Almost. Because you can’t really be friends with someone who isn’t alive, right? But he feels real. His spirit is still alive, to the point where you forget he’s a ghost who you can only talk to in your dreams, and that’s what matters. Except tonight when you fall asleep, you open your eyes to sand and salt water, gentle waves calmly lapping at the shore. Strange. Jungwoo sits with his back facing you, knees drawn up to his chest. He doesn’t look up when you sit down next to him, but he does speak when you say his name softly.

“I think I figured out why I came back.” Jungwoo says, eyes concentrated on the water. “My brother’s in danger.” His head drops to rest on his knees and you pat his back, not knowing what to say.

You don’t learn what Jungwoo meant until the next night, the man so distraught that he isn’t able to form words before your time’s up. The scene is different again this time, a playground replacing the beach from the night before. Jungwoo sits on a red plastic swing, his feet dragging on the ground sadly.

“Hey Jungwoo.” You call out the greeting gently, taking a seat next to him. “Are you okay?” He nods, laughs a little. “Yeah, sorry for freaking out last night. It’s just. It’s a lot.” “Sounds like it is. You wanna talk about it?” You pat his knee comfortingly and he stares at your hand for a long moment before covering it with his own.

He tells you about his brother first, about how much he misses Mark, about how bad he feels for leaving him on his own. Mark’s younger than him, but only by a year, and he was nowhere near as good as him at FIFA. He tells you that he doesn’t remember who killed him, but that as soon as he was transported to the beach, he knew his brother was in danger. There’s no explanation on how the beach told him that, but you have no place questioning the afterlife. You listen patiently throughout the whole story, and it seems to help Jungwoo, his shoulders sagging with relief when he’s done.

“So whoever killed me,” Jungwoo squeezes your hand, stares at the woodchips dragging around. “They’re going to kill my brother next.”

“So we find your killer. Easy.” You squeeze his hand back. “Mark’s going to be okay, Woo. I promise.”

Tonight’s dream takes place on a rooftop. There are lights strung up that lead you straight to Jungwoo, the man facing you with a smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes. His arms are outstretched and you walk into them, sighing softly when he wraps you in his embrace. Lips press to your forehead and you swear you’ve reached heaven. “Dance with me.” He whispers it as if you have a choice to disagree with him when he looks this good. You nod and bury your face in his chest, swaying with him under the stars. There’s music playing now, music that you didn’t hear before, and he hums softly to it as you dance. A squeal leaves you when he spins you, dipping you down before pulling you close, your back to his chest. His lips graze your ear and he laughs before spinning you back around and pulling you into a kiss.

It feels so good and you find yourself getting lost in his touch. The warmth of him against you, the solidness of his chest under your palms. It’s so nice, so comforting, so… real. But it can’t be real. Because this is a dream, because Jungwoo is dead. The thought is enough to jolt you out of your haze and you try to pull back, need to pull back, but the hand on the back of your head holds you still and it feels so good that you almost don’t want to pull out of his embrace. “Jungwoo,” you mumble his name against his lips, not wanting to pull away from the kiss but needing to know the answer to your question. “Jungwoo, are you real?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Jungwoo chuckles, pulling you back for more. “Don’t I feel real?”

A gasp leaves you when his hand slips lower to your ass, squeezing before slipping between your thighs. He finds little resistance, easily reaching under your dress and past the thin panties you’re wearing to swipe through your folds and enter you, stretching you out deliciously well. You cling to him as if he’s your life line and not the other way around, letting him take you apart with his fingers. His name leaves your lips in a sob and you press your face against his neck, clutch at his shoulders. “Please, Jungwoo, please.”

Both of his hands slide to your ass and he picks you up easily, your legs wrapping around his waist automatically. He carries you over to the ledge of the roof, setting you down on the cool stone. He barely gives you time to take in what’s happening before he’s dropping to his knees in front of you, his eyes dark and so intense that you can’t look away from his gaze as he attaches his lips to your thighs. You slide one hand into his hair and he moans into your skin, the vibrations traveling through you as he kisses his way up your thighs and to your core. A sigh leaves you and you put your other hand behind you for balance, your heart dropping to your stomach when your fingertips wrap around the edge of the balcony. “Jungwoo!” You yelp immediately trying to stand up when you look behind you and see the darkness below you, decorated with lights from buildings so far down that they’re almost as tiny as the stars above you. “Jungwoo, I’m gonna fall. Ohmygod I’m gonna fall, Woo-”

“Shh,” Jungwoo hushes you, rubbing your thigh soothingly. He reaches for your hand and laces your fingers together, taking a moment to press his lips to the back of your hand. “Look at me, y/n. You’re not going to fall, okay? I’ll always be here to catch you if you do.” Something in his eyes looks so honest, so sincere, and you find yourself nodding slowly.

“Okay.” Your voice comes out as a whisper, too scared to raise it any louder and break the moment between you. “I trust you.” Jungwoo smiles up at you one more time before lowering himself down to your core. His free hand lifts the edge of your dress up and he takes his time rubbing slow circles into your clit, sighing out praises about how good you are when you shake from the unbearably intense sensation. His eyes stay on yours the whole time, even as he lowers his mouth to your pussy and eats you out like a man starved. It feels so good that you can barely process it, squirming against him and letting your eyes roll back.

“Fuck, Jungwoo,” You whimper, feeling your orgasm build up in the pit of your stomach. “Shit, c’mere.” You use the hand buried in his hair to tug him up, pressing his lips to yours for a sloppy kiss that feels way too good for the moment. He rubs messy circles into your clit that have you clutching him tight to your chest, crying out his name so loud that you’re sure the entire city can hear you. “You like that?” Jungwoo asks, although his voice is so cocky that you’re almost entirely sure he knows the answer. “Fucking love it,” You pant out, orgasm so close you can taste. “Love you, ohmygod.” The end of your sentence cuts off with a whine as you come so hard you nearly black out, holding onto him so tightly you’re sure you would’ve broken at least one of his bones if this were real.

If this were real, if he were real. If this wasn’t a dream with a ghost. The realization washes over you like cold water and the dream disappears before you in a flash, leaving you trembling and empty in more ways than one. Your hand is tingling and when you look at it, you realize that Jungwoo didn’t let go the entire time.

You’re not in your bed when you wake up. It takes you a moment to realize it, the weight of your dream still heavy on your mind, but then you open your eyes and process your surroundings and realize that even though you’re awake, you’re back in your nightmares.

A scream leaves you and you jolt out of the chair, falling flat on your ass. You scramble backwards a good few feet before relaxing, realizing that your mind was just playing tricks on you. This is no nightmare place, it’s just your basement. Except…

That chair is definitely the chair from your nightmares- or well, Jungwoo’s murder. You’ve never seen it down here before, but then again, you never go into the basement. It’s been years since you’ve been down here, the room always giving you the creeps. And you’ve never sleepwalked- you can’t fathom why you’d be down here.

“Jungwoo?” You whisper, not even flinching at the gust of cold air as he materializes next to you. “Why am I down here?” “This is where I was murdered.” Jungwoo murmurs, his gaze distant, cloudy. You furrow your eyebrows.

“Here? Are you sure?” He nods strongly, not an ounce of hesitation on his face. You get to your feet and watch him pace around, tentatively poking at objects. A violent shudder runs through him when he touches the chair. “Jungwoo, this is my house.” He freezes. “This is your house? Then you must know who murdered me.”

There’s a long second where you just stare at him, not knowing what to say. Thoughts abandon you and your mind goes blank, leaving you to shake your head and stutter out objections. “W- No, Jungwoo, I can’t-” A deep breath, a heavy exhale. “No one ever comes down here, and I can’t remember the last time I even had people here.”

“Well someone had to come down here!” Jungwoo presses, motioning at himself. “Y/n, I’m dead. You could help me find who killed me.”

You spend hours thinking through every person you know, mulling over all of your friends and anyone else who has ever been to your house. Parents are ruled out immediately- they live across the country, first off, and your mom nearly cries whenever she so much as swats a fly. Jungwoo tries to help, but he doesn’t know anyone the way that you do, and he’s a tad bit negative.

“Okay, but how do you know they’re not killers.” He asks, tone flat. “I mean, do you have hard evidence? Because somehow none of them are killers, and yet…” He smiles humorlessly and holds his arms out, doing a twirl for you. “I’m dead.” “I’m trying.” You say tiredly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s just hard. Literally no one ever comes over, and I can’t picture my friends as killers. Plus, no one has access to my house except for me.” You purse your lips, staring at your sad little notepaper list with dozens of names scratched out. “Is it possible this happened before I lived here?” Jungwoo shrugs. “Yeah, I guess.” He doesn’t look convinced.

You purse your lips, groaning in defeat when your mind stays blank. “I’m sorry, Woo. We’ll figure it out eventually, I promise. I just can’t think right now.” “Hey, it’s okay. Thank you for helping and not like, I don’t know, calling an exorcist.” Jungwoo presses himself to your side, poking your cheek when you laugh, and his presence is so comforting that it’s easy to forget that he’s not really there. You swat at him good naturedly, your laugh cutting off early when you realize that he’s disappeared. You call for him a few times, panic racing through your mind, until he manifests again a few feet away from you.

“Ohmygod, I’m so sorry! Did that hurt you? I didn’t know that would happen!” You jump to your feet, reaching out to him on impulse before thinking better of it.

Jungwoo laughs softly, but his form flickers. “It’s okay. I guess you can only touch me in dreams.” He smiles, but it’s with his mouth closed tight. The chair becomes visible through his form as he flickers again.

The mention of touch jolts your memories and you scratch the back of your neck nervously. “Wait, Woo, I meant to ask.” He looks at you expectantly, humming for you to go on. “Last night, in the dream. Was that like, was that really you?” “Hm? Are you asking if it was real or not?” Jungwoo asks. You nod, unable to look away from his gaze. “It was me, y/n. I’m real.”

You nod, lips pursed as you think it over. Jungwoo smiles though it’s hollow, hard to see the usual light in him when he’s nearly translucent again. “I’ll see you tonight?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer before vanishing, leaving you alone in the cold basement.

“Yeah.” You whisper softly, a dark cloud hanging over your head.

“What’s in the bag?” Johnny asks you, nodding towards your bookbag. It’s normally empty, save for a notebook or wallet, but today it’s stuffed full of newspaper clippings and binders.

“Nothing.” You shrug. “Just some old articles.”

Johnny thumbs through a stack of the papers before looking up at you, his forehead creased. “On murders?”

“Yeah. They’re interesting. Figured I should know the history of the town I live in, right?” You take a sip of your coffee, hoping you don’t look as insane as you feel. It’d taken you hours of searching to find those articles, digging through the library archives and reading murder after murder to find ones that seemed similar to Jungwoo’s case. They were unsettling, to say the least, and the fact that someone had taken a life under your own roof left you jittery. “I mean, I guess?” Johnny shakes his head and thumbs through a few more, hesitating at one of the clippings before shoving them back in your bag. “Kind of an appetite killer.” He says, pausing after a second and laughing. “Hah, get it? Killer…” The cold stare you give him has him sobering up quickly. He clears his throat. “Anyways. What else have you been up to? You’ve been kinda distant lately.” Have you been? Probably. “Sorry.” You shrug. “Caught up in my work, you know how it is.” Johnny wiggles his eyebrows. “Seeing a new man?” You shoot him a withering look. He throws his hands up innocently. “Woman? Person?”

The word ‘ghost’ is on the tip of your tongue, but that sounds insane even to you. You can’t be seeing someone whose body fades out of existence when you so much as blow air on him too strongly. “No, Johnny. I’d tell you if I was dating someone.” “Promise?” He asks. You hold your pinky out to him, interlocking the digits and offering him a smile. He grins back. “Good. You wanna come over tonight? Play some video games, order some pizza?”

It sounds good, and you really don’t want to be alone at your house after discovering it was the site of a murder, but you don’t want to leave Jungwoo. He’s kind of counting on you for something big, plus you have all those articles to show him…

At your hesitation, Johnny pouts. “Come on, I feel like I’ve barely seen you for like, a month. Please? It’ll be just like old times.” The promise of old times has your resolve fading, and you give into his whining. He cheers and knocks your coffees together, dramatically complaining when the liquid splashes onto his sleeve.

Taking a nap had seemed like a great idea when you had gotten home from lunch, but it’s the first time you’ve dreamt without Jungwoo in your dreams, and all of the nightmares were so genuinely disturbing that you wake up sobbing. Every room seems so foreboding that you can’t bring yourself to sit in the house any longer and you run out the door without any further thought. The rain soaks through your thin sleep clothes and you find that you have three missed calls from Johnny, but you don’t bother to call him back. You’ll be at his place soon enough, and the rain is starting to blue the screen too much for you to see. Or maybe it’s your tears, you can’t be sure, and you really don’t care.

You knock on Johnny’s door, stepping back and impatiently shifting from foot to foot before stepping forward and knocking again. Exhaling harshly, you raise your fist to knock again. The door opens.

A very disgruntled Johnny stands before you, one hand wiping at his face. His hair is disheveled and you have the conscious thought that he must have just woken up, but your brain is flying a million miles a second and you don’t have time to spend worrying about if you’ve interrupted his beauty sleep. “Y/n?” Johnny yawns out, opening the door wider. “You were supposed to come over like 3 hours ago.” His sentence goes unfinished as you push past him, grabbing his wrist and dragging him to the living room. With your hands on his shoulders, you push him down to sit on the couch. He looks less tired and more confused now, which makes sense considering he’s never seen you act like this- you’re not even sure that you’ve ever acted like this- but he keeps silent, trusting you enough to tell him what the fuck is going on. He patiently puts his hands on his knees, watching you pace around the area.

It takes you a while to formulate exactly what to say to him. How exactly do you tell your best friend that you’ve been helping a ghost solve his own murder without him attempting to send you to a psych ward? After a few moments of pacing, in which you accidentally leave a trail of muddy footprints on Johnny’s carpet, you pause.

“This is going to sound insane.” You start, facing Johnny. He nods encouragingly, motioning for you to go on. “I need you to believe me. Promise me that you’ll hear me out until the very end.” Johnny nods. “No, I need you to promise me.” Maybe it’s how frantic your voice sounds, or the fact that you’re soaking wet and still breathing heavily from your run, but Johnny promises without hesitation. His voice is soft and his eyes are wide and you thank God for giving you such a good best friend. You search his eyes with your own, and finding nothing but encouragement and trust, you begin.

“Okay, so. You know those nightmares I’ve been having?” A nod. “Okay, so apparently there’s a ghost living in my house that’s been like, projecting their memories onto me.” Johnny blinks, not even trying to hide the skeptical look on his face. “Before you say anything, I know it sounds crazy. But ghosts are real. Jungwoo- Jungwoo’s real.” Johnny inhales sharply. “His name is Jungwoo?”

“Yeah. He was murdered 4 years ago in my basement. My basement, Johnny.” You take a deep breath, shuddering. “Whoever did it is still out there, and Jungwoo thinks that his brother might be in danger.” You shift anxiously from foot to foot, hands wringing together in front of you until Johnny takes them into his own, thumbs rubbing over the backs of your hands to calm you. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but can you help me find him? I just need to make sure that he’s okay, and I know it’s silly that I promised a ghost but-” “I’ll help.” There’s a reassuring smile on Johnny’s face when he interrupts you, and you breath out in relief. “It’s okay, y/n. I believe you.”

You launch yourself forward into his arms, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I don’t deserve you.” Johnny laughs. “Yeah, you don’t.” He pulls back from the hug long enough to look you in the eyes. “For right now, let's go to bed, yeah? You really look like you need some rest.”

“Okay, so here’s his address. I mean, I think it’s his address.” Johnny looks over your shoulder at the satellite image of Mark’s house, nodding. “We can get there in about two hours.” Johnny hums, stepping away from the computer. “I can get us there faster than that, don’t worry. C’mon, let’s have some coffee and then we can go.” He makes sure you eat something that actually has nutritional value before you go, even going as far as to pack a bag before you hit the road. Johnny does his best to reassure you throughout the drive, but you’re a nervous mess. You compulsively take sips from the water bottle Johnny had forced you to take with and it’s empty in no time, leaving you to drum your fingers along your thighs and squirm with a full bladder.

The house looks so much bigger, so much more foreboding in person. Johnny gives you a reassuring look and after a deep breath, you knock on the door. It takes a few seconds before it creaks open to reveal a man around your age peering at you through black-rimmed glasses that sit crookedly on his face. “Hello?” “Hi, Mark?” he nods, looking you up and down. “Do you have a moment to talk? I just have a few questions, it w-” He’s already moving to close the door before the sentence is even out of your mouth. “Wait, Mark!” You manage to wedge your foot in the door before it closes and he groans, rolling his eyes.

“Look, I’m really not in the mood to buy anything, so if you could just please-” He tries again. “It’s about your brother!” You exclaim, finally succeeding in getting Mark to listen. He freezes and stares down at you dumbly. His eyes stay on you for a little too long before lifting to look behind you.

“Johnny?” Mark asks, eyes widening. “Is that you?” You look over to find Johnny standing behind you, a soft smile on his face. “Yeah, it’s me. How you doin, kid?”

Mark lets you into the house after tackling Johnny into a hug, offering you tea and a seat on the couch. “I didn’t know you knew Jungwoo,” You whisper to Johnny, watching Mark grab cups from the kitchen.

Johnny shrugs. “Never had a reason to bring him up.” He definitely could’ve brought him up earlier, like when you mentioned you were seeing his ghost, but you brush it off as nothing. Maybe he didn’t want to upset you.

Mark returns, offering you each a cup of tea before taking a seat on the couch opposite you. “Wow, it’s been so long.” Mark laughs, clutching his tea for dear life. “It’s so good to see friends of Jungwoo’s again. It’s like, it’s not the same as seeing him but. It’s nice.”

“Good to see you too, Mark.” Johnny smiles. “I looked all over for you after Jungwoo’s death, but I couldn’t find you. When did you move?” Mark sniffs. “Um, I think like a month after it happened. They arrested the guy that killed him and I dipped. It was too painful to see all those little reminders of him everywhere.” Mark sniffs again, and wipes harshly at his eye. It makes you tear up a little too, thinking about how fondly Jungwoo talked about his brother, how unfair it is that they got ripped apart so soon. One phrase sticks out to you and you manage to reel yourself back in before you start crying too hard.

“Wait, they caught the guy? Do you know who killed him?” You side eye Johnny because he must have known that the killer was caught already, and it doesn’t make sense that he didn’t tell you considering that was the sole reason for this trip.

“Um, well. Jungwoo uh, he had a sort of accident.” His hands are shaking, you notice. Some tea spills onto his leg. “He used to go out to all these parties and he swore he’d be safe but I guess he slipped up this one time.” Mark takes a deep breath and his voice cracks. “He was driving home from a party and he probably thought he was fine but he was way too drunk and he hit a pedestrian. He drove away but her boyfriend saw the whole thing and followed him.” Mark drops his head down and sobs a little.

Johnny moves to comfort him and Mark calms down after a few moments, skillfully changing the topic away from his dead brother. All the water that you drank in the car finally catches up to you and you excuse yourself for a second. Mark’s laughter rings clearly from the living room and you can’t help but to laugh too, smiling at Johnny’s ability to make everyone happy. You fix your hair in the mirror, a little spring in your step at the thought of being able to fulfill your promise to Jungwoo.

You wish he was with you right now as you walk down the hallway back to the living room. There are so many pictures on the walls, Mark’s accomplishments framed proudly. It sends an ache through your heart that you’re here to see all of this by yourself. It’s only then, when you’re picturing Jungwoo exploring the house with you, that you realize how quiet it’s gotten.

Frowning, you call out Johnny’s name. You get no response and call out again, finally catching movement out of the corner of your eye. “Johnny, why’d you sneak up on me?” A laugh leaves you when you turn to fully face him, cutting off only at the flash of color that slowly fades to black.

Your head is throbbing when you come to, vision taking a few seconds to clear up. A groan leaves you and you shake your head softly, coming face to face with Mark. A Mark whose mouth is covered with duct tape. You freeze, eyes widening, then look down to find that the rest of him is bound, too. “What-”

Panic surges through you when you realize that your hands and ankles are bound too, and you jerk your head to the side, frantically searching to make sure that Johnny’s okay. You don’t find him. It’s only you and Mark in the room. “Johnny? Hey, whoever the fuck has us down here better leave Johnny the fuck alone!” You might currently be tied up, but the fact that your best friend is missing and potentially hurt overtakes any concern you may have for yourself. Mark’s eyes widen and he shakes his head frantically. You furrow your eyebrows and go to ask what he means, but you don’t get the chance.

“Oh, don’t worry. Johnny’s just fine.” The sentence comes from the man himself, standing right in front of the door. Relief fills you, turning to dread the second he closes the door and flips the lock. “You however…” “Johnny? What are you doing?” You ask, watching as he rolls his sleeves up to the elbow.

He tips his head to the side, looking at you with confusion. “Isn’t it obvious?” The glint in his eyes matches the knife he picks up, the dim light catching on the shine of the blade. “For someone who apparently experienced Jungwoo’s death dozens of times, you should be able to figure it out.”

You blink once, twice, and then your eyes bug so far out of your head you worry they might fall out. A soft wheeze leaves you as your chest constricts, panic blooming in your gut. Johnny wheezes too, but his is a wheeze of laughter. He’s amused.

His eyes slide down to Mark, whose eyes are glimmering with fresh tears. “Did you know it was me Mark? Did you know it was me who killed your brother?” The boy shakes his head frantically, tears free-falling down his cheeks now. There’s some muffled cries that you think sound like no, but the tape traps them and makes him incomprehensible. “Really?” Johnny asks, stepping forward until he reaches Mark and then squatting down in front of him.

“Liar.” Johnny whispers, dragging the syllables out. The point of the knife presses into the boys throat, and while the noise Mark makes is barely audible, you can feel his suffering. There’s a tense moment as Johnny increases the pressure, Mark leaning backwards as far as he can to get away, before Johnny pulls it away. Mark exhales strongly, relaxing a little bit. He’s still crying. “It doesn’t matter, though.”

Tears would probably be rolling down your cheeks if you could process what was happening. But shock has taken ahold of you, and you can only watch helplessly as Johnny turns to glance back at you. “Thanks to y/n, now you’ll never get the chance to tell anyone.”

Johnny whips back around in record speed and slices the knife right through Mark’s throat.

A scream leaves you and you fall forward, unable to do anything but watch in horror as the line in Mark’s neck wells with blood, the poor boy convulsing in horror. A wretched gurgling noise leaves him as he chokes and frantically gasps for air, made even worse by the duct tape over his mouth. Johnny sets the knife down delicately and uses that hand to pinch his fingers over Mark’s nose, effectively shutting off his air-flow. The fight drains out of Mark’s body along with his life, and it’s just a few more seconds before he stills completely.

You can’t think of anything to say, can just gape at Mark’s body as Johnny lets go of him and the boy hits the floor. Johnny turns to you next, picking the knife back up.

“It’s a shame you’re always so curious, y/n.” Johnny sighs, shaking his head. “You’re my best friend, I’m going to miss you.”

There’s the faintest breeze against your cheek bone, your hair blowing to tickle the back of your neck. You try your best not to shiver when it starts blowing against your wrists. It takes you a moment to realize that it’s not a draft from an open window, but it’s Jungwoo. He’s not visible, probably because he’s focusing his energy on freeing you. If Johnny notices anything wrong, he doesn’t say anything. Your wrists aren’t free yet, but you can feel the rope loosening. If you can buy yourself some more time…

“Why are you doing this? Why did you kill Jungwoo in the first place?” Your question obviously catches Johnny off guard and he stops walking, glancing off to the side and sighing softly. He seems to have an internal debate but then he shrugs, settling down on the floor across from you. It calms you a little to have him seated instead of looming over you, and you try your best to stay absolutely still.

When Johnny speaks, there’s a hint of regret in his voice. It’s hard to tell if it’s manufactured or not. “Jungwoo and I were best friends. We always had each others backs, always told each other everything. Ride or dies.” His eyes lower to his knife and he smears the blood around the blade with his thumb. “I was the one who hit the girl. I was drunk and it was stupid, but when I called Jungwoo to help me get rid of the body, he refused. He wanted to call the police, y/n. The police.” His eyes are brimming with tears now, and he looks up at you with an urgency that tells you to believe him. You don’t of course, and you can’t tell if he’s trying to convince you of his innocence, or himself. “My own best friend wanted to turn me in, y/n. I couldn’t let him do it.”

“How did you even get into my basement?”

“You were at a training retreat in the mountains for that job you ended up hating that weekend. I knew that your house was empty and where the spare key was, plus I knew that no one ever went into your basement.” Johnny shrugs. “His body’s in the backyard, in case you were wondering. Buried him under the dahlias.” The red dahlias, your mothers favorite plant. How many times had she gone out to water and tend to the flowers, unknowing of the poor boy who lay beneath? Your breath catches in your throat and you finally can feel tears pricking the back of your eyelids.

“You’re sick.” The sentence is barely above a whisper, but it carries enough weight with it. Johnny’s entire demeanor changes, his face twisting into an ugly scowl.

“I’m sick? I’m not the one that was going to betray my best friend by letting him rot in jail! How fucking dare you.” The ropes fall off of your wrists and you grab onto them to prevent them from hitting the ground and alerting Johnny. All that’s left is the rope on your ankle, and then you can make your move. “Yeah? Aren’t you betraying your best friend right now? Just like you did last time?” “I should’ve used the duct tape on you.” He murmurs, tightening his hold on the knife.

There’s enough give in the ropes that you can wiggle your ankles. You just need a few more seconds. “Why didn’t you?” “Ran out.” Johnny breathes, lunging at you. You squeak and roll to the side, groaning when your legs refuse to function. Sitting on them for so long made them feel like jelly and they tingle as the blood rushes back to your limbs. “What the- you little bitch.”

Johnny attacks again and you dodge yet again, doing nothing but rolling around and avoiding him. You definitely can’t beat him in a physical fight, but you can probably beat him in other ways.

Johnny’s breath catches in his throat. “J-Jungwoo?” He stops moving, obviously trying to process how someone who is clearly dead can stand in front of him. Unfortunately, his body doesn’t quite get the memo, and he trips over Mark’s form. A sickly thud resonates through the room as he falls, followed by a deafening silence.

When Johnny doesn’t move for a few seconds, you step closer to examine him. The first thing you notice is that there’s a little stain under his chest that’s steadily getting bigger, contrasting starkly against the wooden floor. The second thing you notice is the acrid stench of blood, too strong for the small room you’re in. Third is the tip of the blade sticking out of his back. After checking his pulse and finding nothing, you roll him over. You find the hilt of his knife sticking out of his chest and your breath catches in your throat. He must’ve landed on it when he tripped. You slump against the wall and try to catch your breath, staring at Johnny’s limp body and waiting for him to lunge at you.

He never does. You look up to say thank you to Jungwoo, but you don’t get a chance. He looks right at his brother’s limp body and disappears, leaving you alone in the room.

You sleep as much as you can, hoping that Jungwoo will pop up in your dreams again. You cry when you sleep and you cry when you wake, until you get to the point where your eyes burn and your face swells and you can’t physically cry anymore. You cry until you’re exhausted and yet you can’t sleep, can only frustratingly toss and turn and scream silently through your raw throat, praying to a god that you don’t believe in to let you see Jungwoo, just one more time. That’s all you need. Just one more time to say goodbye.

Promises are mumbled into your pillow and chanted in your mind but there’s only so much you can do to keep them. You swear to never forget Jungwoo but the words are meaningless and do nothing to stop his face from fading. Slowly, his features become less clear in your mind, his laugh blending with countless others until you can’t differentiate them. You get him a proper grave in a cemetery, and you go from visiting his grave every day to going every few days, until weeks pass before you remember you wanted to leave flowers for him. The flowers last even less than your promises, wilting and rotting on the stone, becoming a sadly unrecognizable mess. You do your best to clean it, and you cry so hard the first time you see the mess that you almost black out, but it’s now a sight that doesn’t even phase you.

Time doesn’t stop to wait for you. It’s not long before you finish grad school and get a job offer in a city 1500 miles away, much different from this one. Your sister drives down to help you pack, easily helping you throw things that you need into a suitcase and counteracting your hoarding tendencies. Something catches your eye just as you’re leaving and you pick it up, frowning at the little resin flower.

“What’s that?” your sister asks, leaning in over your shoulder. “Is that a dahlia?”

“I don’t know.” you furrow your eyebrows, trying to place why it seems so familiar, before shrugging. It makes a hollow sound when you toss it into the trash that seems to echo much too loud for such a tiny object.

She heaves your suitcase into your arms. “Ready?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

You don’t look back.

#jungwoo fic #nct fic #jungwoo smut #nct smut #nct angst #kim jungwoo angst #nct 127 angst #nct 127 smut #jungwoo angst #nct 127 fic #kpop smut #kpop fic #kpop angst #nct: almost

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ushidoux · 4 years ago

Text

He, Hercules - Ushijima x Reader

Summary: What is Ushijima if not strong? (~2.0k words)

Warnings: accident, temporary disability, implied depression, some suggestive themes, hurt/comfort

A/N: I have limited experience with athletic injuries and mental illness so bear with me. If there is anything you find inaccurate or insensitive in my depiction, don’t hesitate to pm me! <3

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“Mr. Ushijima?”

You perk up when you hear the secretary’s voice call out your husband’s name, only realizing now that in your long semi-long wait you’d ended up dozing off, resting your head against his shoulder. Clearly, you must have been exhausted, because it takes you a moment to remember where you are, and why you’re here.

There are very few others in this small office aside from the single middle-aged man in the corner who you realize is staring quite hard at you, and you wonder briefly if it’s because you somehow looked inappropriate or acted inappropriately while you were asleep. There shouldn’t be anything very noteworthy about a young couple inside a therapy practice.

You glance at Ushijima who is barely moving despite the fact that his name was just pronounced. He’s as still as a statue and his expression is neutral as is typical of him, but you still perceive the lack of intensity behind his eyes, a constant reminder that no matter how much he acts as though he’s fine, he’s not.

Why else would you be here in the first place?

You nudge him gently.

“Love, they called your name. It’s time for your session,” you whisper into his ear.

He had been staring off at a fixed point across from him, but he does still respond to your nudges. When he rises, it’s done slowly, and he walks besides you with a slight limp in his left leg. He doesn’t wince with any step but the arm you hold onto as you walk with him through the hallway down to the provider’s office is stiff. You wonder if he resents how clingy you’ve gotten since his injury, handling him with kid gloves as though he were the most fragile of glass. You can’t help it. You’d almost lost him.

The office is open when you arrive, and a man who looks only a few years older than Wakatoshi is seated in a cream armchair, waiting, a measured smile on his face. Ushijima doesn’t smile back but he doesn’t frown either.

“Welcome! Please come in and make yourself comfortable,” the man says without missing a beat, rising to shake his hand. He also shoots a glance at you, but before he can ask you to introduce yourself before politely shooing you out of the room (this is not couples’ therapy after all, even if it will help the two of you), you squeeze your husband’s hand before quickly exiting.

“I’m his partner, I’ll see myself out, thank you!”

You worry slightly about leaving him alone in this stranger’s care, but Ushijima is not a child and this isn’t the first day of kindergarten, he’s a man recovering from a life-altering injury and has finally agreed to go to therapy.

You’re not sure how optimistic to be, but you’ve done an extensive amount of research and this particular therapist boasted credentialing in sports psychology, was highly recommended and had worked with a lot of current and former athletes alike.

Of course, this would all be meaningless if Ushijima refused to talk, but as you started your car to pass the next hour at a nearby mall, you gave yourself a little bit of hope.

---

“Tell me about yourself,” is the first question the therapist asks, after offering not much more than his own name, and Ushijima is slightly annoyed by the question.

He does not want to be here in the first place, he doesn’t need to be here, and now he’s asked a question as vague and audacious as ‘tell me about yourself’ like he’s expected to pour out his feelings to this stranger from the very second he sits in this admittedly comfortable couch.

He pauses. He’s not sure exactly what he would say.

He’s nearing 30. He’s married, no kids. If it’s not obvious, he’s from Japan. He plays volleyball professionally… well, played, up until recently.

He frowns. That’s why he’s here. Because you don’t think he is okay, even if all of his injuries have essentially healed aside from this annoying limp that makes it obvious that he’s in some way not in optimal shape, broken, vulnerable. This limp is the reason why he can no longer play even if he feels fine otherwise, and why he’s not exactly sure what to do next.

But that’s beyond the point. The question is about himself.

What else can he say? How would others describe him?

His friends call him serious, just as the media describes him. Quiet and serious. Dedicated. Strong.

Maybe he’s not that last thing anymore, but that too is beyond the point.

You think he’s sweet; you say this repeatedly. You tell him that he’s kind and considerate.

He thinks for a moment that maybe he was too kind. Kindness is what got him in this predicament in the first place, isn’t it?

A moment of compassion - a likely exhausted mother whose eyes leave her child for a split second to rummage through her purse, a little girl whose tiny legs take her just a bit too far out into an open intersection, a speeding car that shows no signs of stopping…

He remembers the exact moment he is no longer jogging but sprinting to take the child out of harm’s way, as well as the exact moment he hears his bones snap on impact, and he’s too shocked initially to feel pain, eyes frantically searching for the kid who now is standing on the opposite side of the street, looking at him in curiosity because the toddler is too young to understand what it means to see a body crumple. She’s unharmed, so he’s successful.

A woman screams and she sounds nothing like you. He’s not sure if that’s a good thing.

The car speeds on.

---

You sit in a food court, poking at some fries, but you’re not exactly hungry, just anxious. Is the session going okay?

Even if the man is a professional at getting people to talk, Wakatoshi is a hard nut to crack. You could envision him sitting silently until the hour passed completely, before getting up to bow and exit stage left. It had taken you months to get him to agree to go to anything other than physical therapy.

You hope this is not an exercise in futility.

---

“I’m fine,” he grunted, just a couple days out of the hospital, once you’d started nagging him for weight-bearing on the leg that had just been operated on.

“Your leg was literally shattered!” You shouted. “You’re lucky they didn’t amputate!”

He gave you a mildly fatigued look. All he’d wanted to do was walk to the kitchen by himself, without crutches in his own house, and he’d barely made it a couple of steps before you were standing in the bedroom, looking all sorts of stressed and concerned.

He figured your concern was temporary, so he attempted to quell his stubbornness. He had already been benched for the season, possibly to likely forever and pouring out his frustration on you wouldn’t be helpful.

“What do you need? I’ll get it for you.”

He frowned but he let you help him anyway.

---

“My name is Wakatoshi Ushijima. I moved here several years ago from Japan to play volleyball professionally. I was in a bad car accident a few months ago and my wife is concerned that I’m not adjusting well.”

The therapist offers a small smile again.

“Do you disagree with that assessment?”

Ushijima tilts his head slightly. He does disagree… he doesn’t? He’s not sure. He’s frustrated of course, who wouldn’t be, he had just been in the Olympics after all, but he’s fine. He’s strong.

He’s strong.

---

“We just wanted to thank you again.”

Wakatoshi glanced at the gifts the couple before them had brought, a bouquet of flowers and stacks of cookies and pastries in boxes on the living room coffee table, before looking back at you. Your face remained polite and smiling but you were clearly uncomfortable from the way you were perched on the seat, nodding carefully as you listened to your visitors, your arms crossed over your midsection as you leaned forward in your chair.

He knew you wanted to be angry at them, well, her, the mother who looked at him pitifully initially then averted her eyes out of shame. But it wasn’t her fault but yet, it was her fault and still, it wasn’t. It was very complicated. No one was at fault. Her daughter was safe.

Everything was fine.

---

You’re back in your car again, ready to drive to pick up your husband from therapy. Things should get better from here on.

Maybe he will no longer shut down like a brick wall when you suggest that now is a good time to start transitioning away from sports for the future. Maybe he’ll be less upset with small things like not being able to run as far, or lift as much or please you as much in the bedroom as he used to.

They’re small things compared to losing his life.

---

“I would like to go back to playing but I’m told at every turn that it’s too dangerous, maybe even after a year of healing.”

The therapist nods, and scribbles something on a sheet of paper.

“How does that make you feel?”

The therapist notices even through Ushijima’s accented Polish that he’s naturally eloquent, but regardless he still lacks the words to appropriately talk about his feelings.

His hands grip at his knees, the good and the bad one. The word ‘useless’ comes to mind but he can’t bring himself to say that to this stranger, even if these four walls come with the promise of understanding.

For once, silence is uncomfortable for him, and the therapist is surprisingly good at staying quiet. They sit in silence for moments longer and surprisingly, Wakatoshi speaks up first.

“Weak,” he ekes out in a voice that is so small he barely recognizes it.

To that, the therapist leans just slightly forward, focusing his eyes on the man’s restricted range of motion and slightly hunched shoulders. It’s the posture of a man who’s normally stoic and confident, now made uncertain about the future.

“What’s wrong with weakness?” He says quickly, and Ushijima is somewhat stunned which then lends way to a small measure of anger.

Everything is wrong with being weak. Weakness was for other people. How could he protect himself, his livelihood, his team, you?

What is he if not strong?

---

“I love you.”

He says it less often than you do to him, but every time he does, he means every word. You shifted beneath him, weary from the lovemaking of just prior but still nevertheless craning your neck up to reach his lips.

Your hands traveled down his shoulders and along the length of his bulky arms, playing with his biceps, drinking in the sight of his muscles flexing as he moved. He smiled and wrapped his arms tight around you, laying his head on your chest.

“Aww, Toshi, you’ll crush me if you hold me so tight. You barely know your own strength,” you teased with a laugh, prompting him to loosen his grip ever so slightly, and lift up his head to show you the smallest of pouts.

“I love you more,” you added, giggling.

Pleased, he lay his head back down on the softness of your bosom, clinging to you more. He’d protect and take care of you forever.

---

You hold Ushijima’s hand tightly as you walked out of the building to your car, holding in your curiosity about the session the entire time.

Would he go again?

He gives your hand a squeeze suddenly which surprises you, and when he turns to you, there’s a small upturn in the corner of his lips that approximates more of a smile than you’ve seen in recent weeks.

You’re elated enough that you immediately give him a hug, and maybe you’re a bit overzealous about it, but he stops and holds you close for just a moment.

“Thank you.”

There’s a lot in the thank you, and you shed a tear.

---

Strength is relative and inconstant, so our first task is to work on your definition of strength.

But I would say, coming here in the first place is already evidence enough.

#ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #mae.replies #mae.writing #tw injury #tw depression

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moonbaby26 · 3 years ago

Text

Title: Sleepover

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Continuation from previous chapter. After getting Peter back to his house in D.C., he asks you to spend the night. You want to, but you’re also worried about what his mother and his twin sister Wanda may really think of you. As you and Peter get a little more time alone, you also wonder how far you’re ready to go yourself.

Warnings: Nothing more than kissing really in this chapter. Bit of awkwardness from Reader though not knowing what they really want or how to go about it yet.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp , @wintwrsoldiwr , @tommy-braccoli , @amourtentiaa , @cringingmemeries , @bi-panicatthe-disco , @himbos-are-my-lifeblood , @simp4mcuwomen , @ikkleroniekins , @cowboyenorgy , @the-chaotic-cow

My Masterlist

——————————

“Anyway, can we argue inside at least? (Y/N) promised to call Xavier when we got here.” Peter piped up, trying to shuffle away from his mother at last.

At the sudden sound of your name though, you felt an added bit of nervousness. You also made eye contact with Peter’s mother for the very first time then, as if she’d only just realized you were there.

Peter’s sister Wanda was also looking back at you with question in her face as well at the reveal of your name. But you said nothing yet, just walking up to hand Peter his crutches.

You purposefully busied yourself turning right back around too, getting that jacket he’d stolen on the plane out from the back of the car as well for him. The sunglasses he already had still on top of his head.

So then, the only other things left in the car were the meager amount of clothes you’d bought for yourself. Which you didn’t need right now as you walked back to the others, carrying his jacket. But really pretty unsure yourself if you were even going to be invited inside for long at all.

“Come on, I’ll show you where the phone is,” Peter spoke again though, either oblivious to the increasing awkwardness for everyone else or just ignoring it entirely as he motioned for you to follow him back up the steps and through the still open front door.

—————————

As you were unfolding the little piece of paper with the motel address and phone number from out of your pocket, you tried to concentrate on the task at hand. The corded phone was propped against your shoulder to rest against your ear, you now standing there in the Maximoffs’ small kitchen. But even as you started to dial the numbers, half your attention was still on whatever Peter was now rapidly saying to his family.

“Yeah, (Y/N) goes to that school. You know I just went there to go ask about Dad since they know him. But then there’s this explosion, and I had to pull everybody out. And all the sudden this mutant god is apparently attacking the world and he took Xavier. But then the government shows up like dolts thinking Xavier’s doing it instead. And they take us to question us, but they’ve got some evil experiment shit going on in there too-”

He only took the smallest breath, continuing at that accelerated pace. “And they had that other guy, remember him, Mom? Logan? Anyway, so he breaks out and wrecks the place, so we get out and I get (Y/N), then we find out where Xavier is so we go to get him. We’re in Egypt and we all fight and that god dude breaks my leg. But he’s trying to make Dad help him, but Dad turns on him and-”

“Hello?” You heard someone on the other end of the line finally answer at the motel. You could still hear Peter rattling on excitedly behind you though, your name peppered into his story several more times as you just answered back on the phone.

“Hi, is there a Charles Xavier checked in there? I need to ring his room please.”

There was a long pause where you could only keep standing there, just looking at the kitchen wall and the bit of older panelling that covered it before the phone finally started ringing again.

Peter was now already talking about the aircraft carrier and your stay there by the time you heard the receiver pick up again.

“This is Charles.”

“Hi…hey, it’s me.” You answered with some relief.

You could hear the quick recognition in the Professor’s own voice as you didn’t have to say your name before he gladly responded. “Ah, good. You made it with no trouble then? We checked in here a while ago. I’m in room 104 if you’d need to call back. Are you leaving now to drive back?”

You tried to commit the room number to memory even as you were already replying. “Yeah, it wasn’t a bad drive. We just got here a minute ago. I-”

“Yo, Prof.!” Peter interjected, surprisingly at your side abruptly, also speaking into the phone then. “We’re barely in the door. I was going to show (Y/N) around a bit. That cool? Pretty jet lagged anyway. Probably be safer to crash on the couch tonight and have (Y/N) head your way in the morning, right?”

You blinked, for one thing not even having heard Peter stop talking to his family. But two, he was really saying you should sleep here? Not just joking around anymore? Could he even decide that on his own?

You felt frozen in that moment, not wanting to look back towards the kitchen at all and whatever surprised expressions his mother and sister may now also have on their faces.

The pause on the other end of the line was very noticeable as well before Xavier eventually continued. Peter shimmied even closer to you so he could also put his ear almost against the phone as you turned it slightly for him.

“Peter, I appreciate you looking out for everyone’s best interests and safety,” The Professor answered then, but with that tone which said he clearly doubted that was the speedster’s true or only reasoning. “But I would think that’d be more for your mother to-”

“Mom!” Peter turned his head back, rather loud in your ear as you flinched a little. “Can (Y/N) sleep on the couch? I mean you hate it when Wanda drives late by herself. Same thing right? It’s a long drive back to New York. What self respecting mom is just going to throw anybody’s kid out into the night like that, huh?”

You were tired, yes. It’d already been a very long day of traveling. But you weren’t that helpless. You were pretty sure you’d be fine. This was so weird though. Standing here in silence while someone else bargained for you. Was he really just trying to extend your time together however he could?

“I don’t care, Peter.” You just heard a rather exasperated answer though from Magda after another moment. “You’re going to do whatever you want anyway. Why even ask me anymore?”

The tension from their argument in the driveway clearly remained, or maybe this was how it always was between them? You couldn’t know yet, just caught in the middle it seemed as Peter only took that as good enough, talking back into the phone quickly, “Mom says it’s cool.”

You heard a sigh on the other end, and Xavier replied, “You’re old enough, I don’t have much say myself. But do call me again when you are leaving so we know when you’re back on the road, agreed?”

“Yes.” You said, pulling the phone more back to you then. “I’ll definitely let you know. Please tell the others I’m okay. I’ll see you all soon.”

After that, you and the Professor both told each other goodnight, and that was it. You hung the phone back up, but not yet sure what you’d really gotten yourself into as you glanced back at Peter. Peter who was now outright grinning from ear to ear.

“So…Chuck Norris or Bruce Lee? Movie night?” He asked you.

But what else could you do? You didn’t mind getting the chance at a little more time together of course. You just weren’t sure about how much anyone else actually wanted you here in this house tonight.

——————————

Not long after, whatever deeper discussions still loomed in the air about Peter’s choices of chasing his estranged father straight into a near death experience with a genocidal mutant god appeared shelved. At least for now anyway.

You’d seen Magda grab some sort of drink. Resigning herself to an armchair and the living room television as she seemed to ignore you all then, even as Peter remained almost bubbly while the two of you started down the basement stairs to his room.

You really hadn’t seen where Wanda had gone, but Peter just kept talking. So your focus only returned to him as you both cleared the last step at the bottom of the staircase. You behind him as you carried his crutches, then handing them back to him as you entered the room.

“And voila, man cave de Pietro!” He announced, waving an arm out towards the space.

You weren’t sure why you’d expected something smaller either. Of course most basements sprawled out to take up near the whole bottom footprint of a house. But this was still large to you, and clearly well used.

There were things everywhere. More than just a room obviously. No, this was his life, his hideaway. The more you looked, the more things you saw. Bicycles, guitars, comic books, band posters, all pieces of his hobbies and likes scattered about.

But there was furniture as well. A little table, some chairs, was this always where he ate too? There was a big sectional couch, the cushions indented a little like he may have a favorite spot there.

You didn’t miss the expensive looking television as well, and the VHS player. All the tapes, and the nintendo and the atari, the record player, a stereo, and boxes of games, cassettes, and music records.

And his bed was near in the center of it all, much wider than one person should need and almost right on the ground as he just fell back onto it sending a noticeable wave across the sheets. A waterbed clearly. But you just laughed a little, still a bit amazed. “You really do live here in the true sense of the word don’t you?”

“Hey, I make do. Home sweet home.” He smirked, but also raised an eyebrow at you not long after. “So you didn’t even notice the table back there did you?”

At his words you did look back over your shoulder with a little confusion. But you started to smile as soon as you realized what he was talking about. An air hockey table back around the corner. Some clutter on top of it like it hadn’t been used in a while, but it was clear he remembered your arcade favorites to point it out like he was.

“I figured I’d try to keep that a surprise until now…you know, since our arcade date might be a little postponed for the moment. So uh, surprise?” He said, laying back on his bed as he put his arms behind his head, still watching you.

“I did see the Ms. Pac-Man.” You replied, motioning to the more obvious machine right against the wall. No wonder he’d said he was pretty good at that one.

“Yeah, I used to have Pong too. Wore it out though. And got tired of trying to find parts to fix it.”

“Oh, I could see that happening.” Sure, he probably played everything with a little super speed. Though imagining him somehow ‘shoplifting’ a whole arcade machine whenever he needed another one was a bit interesting. How did that even work?

“So, uh…you want me to put a movie on for real? I was trying to get us out of that kitchen before Mom went off again. But we can do whatever. You know…whatever you want?” He spoke, albeit maybe a little oddly as you glanced to him again.

He almost sounded a touch nervous with those last words? The slight change in tone was enough for you to catch anyway as you did walk over to the bed regardless before sitting down on the edge of it beside him.

But it was strange here, the more you considered everything. It was hard to explain really. Because how many countless times had you sat in your friends’ rooms at the mansion? Guys or girls, just talking or playing games or whatever. Just hanging out as you supposed most all people your age did. But there was never anything weird, never anything uncomfortable.

It could even be late at night sometimes, some of you only half dressed in your sleep shirts or pajamas and no one thought anything about it. Because you just knew back then that no one thought of you as anything but a friend too.

But with Peter…being here now, you were suddenly acutely aware that you were sitting on his bed. In his room, as he seemed to be waiting for some sort of guidance from you as well. Was that why he sounded nervous?

Yet had Crystal ever been here too you wondered. Sitting just where you were sitting now? And why would you think of such a stupid thing in this very moment?

“Hey.” Peter said gently, causing you to look down as you felt his fingers graze your wrist after he moved his arm to reach out.

You smiled a little at the contact, but still felt kind of foolish. There was no point in trying to play it cool though as you confessed the current reason for your own awkwardness at least. “I guess I just didn’t expect to be in anybody’s room like this. It’s not bad, it’s just…”

“Different?” He asked, helping you out a little to your surprise.

“Yeah.” You answered simply. But you could see as another emotion seemed to pass briefly through his expression, furthering your bit of confusion.

Was that guilt on his face?

And he spoke a little abruptly, with that rarer more serious tone emerging even though the words came fairly quick. “You know I was still just giving you a hard time right? I’m cool going as slow as we need. Despite being the fastest dude alive and all, I don’t have to be the fastest guy in bed. That’d royally suck actually. For both of us. So don’t feel like there are some sort of rules here. Like, you do not have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

You blinked, those words not what you were expecting. But it wasn’t bad at all the more you got to consider them. Was he really so worried that you may think he was trying to get something from you here that you weren’t yet ready to give?

Honestly, you didn’t even know yourself what you were ready for though. “Really, it’s okay.” You replied truthfully. “I’m not uncomfortable. I think I’m still in disbelief is all. I never would have thought this is how my summer would start this year. Never in a million years.”

He sat up, smiling again then with his normal tone bouncing back fairly easily. “And I am totally coming over for a pool party, as soon as this damned cast is off. I mean I’m white as shit so people may have to avert their eyes. But we would totally wreck the others in some volleyball or something. I know we would. As long as Jean doesn’t cheat with the telekinesis crap. I could do some whirlpools too you know, knock ‘em off their feet.”

“Sounds safe.” You said, laughing at the image. Maybe living in some random motel for the foreseeable future wouldn’t be so bad after all?

He chuckled in return, but was cut off by another voice just before he started to speak again.

��Knock knock.”

You both looked up toward the stairs as you first saw a pair of black boots coming down them. Black boots, old jeans, and a dark red t-shirt.

Peter called back, straightening up a little more at the sight. “Hey, sis. Fun run out upstairs with Mom and Dynasty on the tube or what?”

“Well, it was an Alexis and Dominique Deveraux battle episode, actually.” Wanda answered a little regretfully.

“Aw, your favorite catfight duo! Why the exit then?” Peter questioned in return.

She gave Peter a slight accusatory look. “Well, you got Mom in a mood and she wanted to talk about my school next. She wanted to and I didn’t. Simple as that.”

“Well…actually I thought you’d still be at your dorm too really. Not that I’m complaining. Haven’t seen you in forever. Your classes get cancelled?” He asked.

“Well, when the metal roof got pulled off the main assembly hall, I think they decided to err on the side of caution.” She responded, rather deadpan.

“Understandable. You think you’ll still go back in the fall?” Peter questioned anyway.

“Don’t know. I haven’t really liked anything about that college yet. But I said I didn’t want to talk about it remember?” Her tone wasn’t cold to him, but still rather final.

He clearly wasn’t as intimidated by her as you were though as he didn’t miss a beat. “Well how about a movie with us? Me and (Y/N) were about to pick something.”

How true that statement was on Peter’s part, you weren’t really sure. But you still said nothing as Wanda just moved to sit on the other edge of the bed, almost as far from you as could be you noted. But Peter still between the both of you as she looked unimpressed. “Can it be something a little less bloody than your usual at least?”

He scoffed, teasing back. “Well I don’t keep your Bewitched and I Dream of Jeannie box sets down here you know.”

“Oh shut up.” Wanda retorted, but it was the first time you’d seen her really smirk. Though the siblings were clearly very different, that expression was also a brief resemblance you couldn’t miss.

“Wanda’s a bit of a sitcom connoisseur.” Peter commented for your benefit.

You took the chance to make eye contact with her at that, thinking that might be your in to finally start a real conversation. But she only looked away. If Wanda was unfriendly with strangers period, or actually just disliked you specifically, it was hard to know yet.

“Just pick something.” She finally replied to Peter though. “If I go back through the living room to try to go to my room right now, Mom’s just going to try and start an interrogation again.”

—————————

Hours later

“Hey, you keep moving around. Do you want a pillow?” Peter’s voice drifted from above.

You were pretty disoriented, for one strange moment just staring up at him and clueless to where you even were before your senses returned a little.

The sunlight was gone then. The only real light flickering from the television nearby that was now on some movie you didn’t remember the name of as you sat back up a little on his bed. Was this the third movie he’d put in? You hadn’t lasted very long at all had you?

“I can get on the couch,” You offered, awake enough then to at least remember his mother and sister were still around here somewhere. Though, when had Wanda left? You didn’t see her anymore and you didn’t even know what time it was.

“Seems kind of unnecessary,” Peter replied, in a quieter tone that caught your attention as you paused.

Was he inferring that you should just get under the blankets right here? With him? But sharing the bunk on the aircraft carrier wasn’t the same as being in his literal bed. Here in his family’s home where they already seemed to be rather distant with you at best.

They didn’t know you here. You had to remind yourself of that. They couldn’t know you didn’t spend the night at boys’ houses as habit. You didn’t get in their beds with them upon just meeting. Honestly, you couldn’t even remember the last time you’d slept somewhere besides the now destroyed mansion.

“Peter…” You didn’t know how to convey that concern really. You did want Magda and Wanda to like you eventually if you were being honest. You wanted them to understand. But you wanted Peter to understand too. Even though he’d said he was fine taking things as slow as you wanted, you felt it would still be all too easy to make him feel rejected without meaning to if you weren’t careful.

“I mean, we could both fit on my couch down here too,” He added, so close then that you were sure he was waiting for you to cross the rest of the small distance and kiss him.

And how could staring at each other in the dark, with the muffled sounds of some badly dubbed kung fu movie in the background now be bordering on romantic for you? Somewhere in the back of your mind you did think of all those stereotypical movie scenes all of the sudden. Two young people just in their own world, oblivious to all else.

“I don’t know if I’ve made the best impression on your family yet.” You tried to explain. “If I’m still in this bed with you the next time one of them comes down here…there is no way they’re going to believe we only watched movies and slept tonight.”

He tilted his head a little, yet already smiling. “And you assume they think someone like you would be that physically attracted to someone that looks and acts like me?”

“I do…and I am.” You answered though. Not trying to lead him on, but unable to help yourself either then as you did close that small distance to kiss him. You still disliked anytime he made those comments about somehow being underserving. He was far from it.

The little bit of tension you felt in return told you he was surprised too, but that quickly faded of course as he only pressed into it to kiss you back.

You had no intention of going too far or taking advantage of his family’s allowing you to stay here tonight however. It wouldn’t be right.

But you were still young as well, and it’d be a lie to say it didn’t feel good as he touched your face and your own hand moved onto his chest. It was something too how quickly the heat rose inside you. You could feel the outline of his body through his shirt as your hand trailed down.

He was warm, his abdomen firm against your moving hand. You kissed him harder actually as his own hand moved back behind your neck. But you needed to stop soon, either that or he needed to wear thicker clothing as your hand wandered further.

It was him that surprised you to finally pull back first though. Yet smiling at you again as he kept his face close.

Your breathing had already changed a little as you looked back to him before he glanced down. He raised an eyebrow at your hand now resting on the waistband of his shorts.

Realizing what he was looking at, you pulled your hand away, apologizing reflexively. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to…” Your mind fumbled a little. Your hand had just been running down. There was no real intent behind it, despite how it looked.

“You’re so funny. Seriously.” He said in that slight tone of amusement though. “Jumping out a plane one day, ready to sacrifice yourself samurai warrior style for your buddies, brave as shit.” He tilted his head, before then enclosing his hand around yours that you’d just pulled back. “But here you get flustered? I’m just a guy, (Y/N). Total nobody. There’s nothing to apologize for. Though I still don’t get it at all. I mean, why you like me like you do.”

“But you admit it then at least?” You tried to counter back, instead of arguing against his very real point that a new relationship could be more intimidating to you than a battlefield. “You admit that I like you. Instead of just telling me I’m making a mistake?”

“Yeah, I mean I guess even I can’t really make up a story of why you’d choose to drive all the way back to New York by yourself instead of bringing one of your friends here with you…unless you really wanted to be one on one with me.” But he just smirked once more, leaning in again to steal a quick additional kiss before pulling back away. “Guess you’re just that nuts.”

“Thanks.” You joked back.

“Takes one to know one.” He answered tauntingly, then sliding off the bed a little awkwardly as he put his feet back on the floor, albeit trying to only put weight on his good leg.

He didn’t have to go far though to reach a nearby closet, pulling a large blanket from it. He wadded it up a little, then tossing it to you. “Since you’re being modest though, you can sleep with Optimus Prime and Megatron tonight. But here, take one of my pillows too.”

In the dark, you couldn’t really make out what was on the blanket. Some sort of characters. You’d just have to take his word on it being Transformers before you caught the pillow that he threw to you next.

“As far as which couch you sleep on, your call. But Wanda always gets up, classic insomniac. I don’t think you want to tempt her with the opportunity to peek into your head if you stay in the living room. She hasn’t met you for real yet and probably still wants the background deets on you.”

“She’s another psychic?” At first you couldn’t remember if he’d already told you that or not. But no, you definitely would have recalled that. Yet maybe this was better? You wouldn’t have to prove anything if she could just see the truth in your mind of how you felt for her brother.

But Peter waved his hand in a ‘so-so’ type gesture. “I don’t think labels really work well with my sister. Yeah, she can get in people’s heads. But she’s not like your friends. She’s her own deal. It’s different. There’s a lot more that she can do. I’m just saying I wouldn’t advise messing with her is all.”

Whatever concerned look you must have given then was enough for him to quickly continue though, “But I’ll work on her the whole time while you’re back in New York. She just doesn’t know you yet. It’ll be fine!”

“Uh huh.” You said, not so confidently. “Guess I’m sleeping on this couch then.”

“A wise choice I think.”

“Of course, you could just be saying all this to get me scared enough to stay down here.”

“Oh, it’s both of course.” He smiled, watching you lay down on the couch even as he got into his bed. “And if you get cold, babe. I’m just a few feet away you know.”

Even from here, you were pretty sure he winked at you as you wrapped yourself up in that blanket he’d given you and stretched out on his couch. “If I go over there, I’m not coming back over here and I know it.”

“Or I could come over there,” he offered, only half jokingly of course.

But you just laid your head on the pillow, knowing you were trying to do the right thing at least. “Not enough room for your leg. You’d be uncomfortable.”

“If you say so, killjoy.”

You only smiled. “Goodnight, Peter.”

“Night, Glo-Worm.” He responded happily.

“Ugh,” You’d hoped he’d forgotten that by now, but apparently not. “Really have to fix that. There’s got to be a better codename for me.”

“Well we can’t all be Quicksilver. Sorry, I called dibs.”

“And we can’t all choose our nicknames out of a department store display case either.” You retorted.

“Ouch. Touché.”

He didn’t tease you anymore after that, but you could still feel his gaze on you as you closed your eyes again not long after. He was close enough that you also felt safe, even here in this new environment.

It was going to be hard to leave tomorrow, that much was certain. But at least you’d also know what you’d have to look forward to as soon as his cast was off again.

Maybe the next time you two fell asleep under the same roof, it’d be in a more neutral territory where you wouldn’t have to worry about his mother or sister’s judgement. Then you could hold him just like you wanted to. And it would be well worth the wait.

——————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

#quicksilver x reader #quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver x you #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #quicksilver #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x oc #quicksilver x oc #quicksilver xmen #xmen fic #x men fanfiction

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mianavs · 4 years ago

Text

meeting the zoldycks pt. 1

part 7 of Cathexis

a/n: we’re finally here~ splitting this up into 2 parts to make it more readable.

wc: 2.2k

Cathexis

Pangs of pain from your leg jostled you awake to a foreign room. With your instincts kicking in, you tried moving only to realize your right leg was in a hard cast and the events that led to your injury replayed in your head ending with the feel of Illumi’s strong arms carrying you to his car.

Your eyes examined the dimly lit but well-furbished room for a hint that would dispel the growing fear in your chest regarding your whereabouts only to watch a Zoldyck butler come in with a tray of medical supplies that included a syringe needle.

Before you could utter a word, the young female butler set down the tray and rushed out of the room.

Anxious, you dragged your body to the edge of the bed and ignored the growing ache in your leg. Just when you were about to set your legs over the edge, purple bruising on your arm caught your eye and halted your progress. Darting your eyes up to the syringe needle the butler brought in, your mind pieced together everything and the realization you’d been sedated broke your composure.

Like clockwork, the door opened to reveal Illumi who entered the room and closed the door behind him. He approached your bed and trailed his impassive eyes over your form, lingering on your casted leg, before breaking the silence.

“How do you feel?”

“How long have I been here?” Your voice was hoarse from disuse but that didn’t stop the questions spilling from your lips. “Why am I here? What happened to bodies? Where’s my phone?”

Illumi’s eyes narrowed the slightest before repeating his question but you disregarded his question yet again.

“I need to get out of here. Ruo Wen is prob—”

Illumi’s bloodlust cut you off as the air in the room seemed to thicken and your surroundings blurred until all you could focus on was the man before you. Beads of cold sweat dotted your skin as fear coursed through your veins in the presence of such malicious Ren. You were trembling like a leaf when Illumi spoke once again.

“How. Do. You. Feel?”

You opened you mouth to speak but nothing came out as your eyes remained fixed on Illumi’s. As if he was pleased with your shaken state of mind, the bloodlust receded and your vision and breathing returned to normal.

“…F-fine! I’m fine…can I go now?” You sputtered, still reeling from the malice that’d permeated the air seconds ago.

Illumi quirked his head. “Not in this state. Your leg needs to heal completely.”

“I can recover at home just as easily.”

Illumi’s face twisted into an eerie smile. “After your little incident, I don’t think I can trust you being on your own—at least not like this.” His eyes trailed to your injured leg and your face flushed in embarrassment at the reminder of your defeat against Saul’s men.

“It was your fault he came for me.” You muttered, avoiding Illumi’s haunting gaze.

“I know. That’s why I took the job to kill him.” He replied absent-mindedly.

“So, you weren’t tracking me?” You cringed at how the question sounded but one look at Illumi’s oblivious face eased your embarrassment.

“No, I knew you were in Meteor City and, after reading up on his recent movements, I figured he would try to harm you.”

You were quiet as Illumi’s words sunk in. Despite the twisted reasoning behind it, you had to admit he’d saved your life and you were grateful. Besides, he was right regarding your current state; you wouldn’t be able to work with your leg in a cast. If you stayed at the Zoldyck mansion, you wouldn’t have to worry about medical bills, treatment, food, or running into your parent’s if they happened to drop by your condo.

“I’ll stay here until my leg heals but—”

“I’ll be sure to compensate you for your injuries and for the time you won’t be working.” Illumi dug into his pocket and fished out your phone before handing it to you. “Your boss called you a couple days ago.”

Scrolling through your missed calls, you looked up to ask the question you’d first asked him only to see Illumi closing the door behind him. The curse on your lips died when a notification from your bank confirmed the deposit of your compensation and you lied back down with a sigh before closing your eyes and going back to sleep.

It was a week after the incident when boredom lured you out of your room with the help of the crutches Canary brought you. While Illumi was on a mission, Canary had been the one tending to your needs and providing her companionship while you recovered. You quickly grew fond of the younger girl and appreciated her friendly personality. However, you couldn’t suppress your hunter instinct any longer and decided to roam the mansion in search for intel on Illumi and the Zoldycks.

As you hobbled down the hallways of the mansion, you noticed they were as dimly lit as your room with only a few lamps adorning the stone walls. You couldn’t help but chuckle how much the home reflected the ominous reputation of its inhabitants.

The possibility of running into one of the Zoldycks was one that you welcomed regardless of how dangerous it seemed. You needed to know more about the other family members—particularly Silva and Zeno—and what better way than to do it face to face.

Just when your arms began to ache after wandering for what seemed like an hour, a flash of white hair from the corner of your eyes caught your attention and you found yourself face to face with the third son, Killua Zoldyck.

You froze, unsure of what to say to the boy, but spoke when he turned around to head in the opposite direction.

“Wait! Do you know where I can rest?” Holding your breath until he turned, you plastered a pained smile on your face and leaned against the wall. “I think I overdid it.”

He was entirely different from Illumi. Where Illumi was inscrutable, you could see a myriad of emotions on Killua’s face that ranged from surprise, confusion, and finally concession. With an exasperated sigh, he closed the distance between you.

“There’s a small library nearby. Follow me.” His tone was harsh but he walked slowly enough for you to keep up with him.

The library was brighter than the hallways, with a large window letting sunlight stream in. It was fairly large with several bookcases filled with books, a couples of lounge chairs, a table, and a lit fireplace. The room was almost cozy and you let out a sigh of relief when you collapsed on the comfortable chair. Killua took your crutches and leaned them against your armrest before taking a seat in the adjacent to you.

“Thank you…” Debating whether or not to call him by his name, you trailed off only for Killua to interject.

“Killua.” He sounded hesitant but curious, nonetheless. “You’re my brother’s fiancé aren’t you.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m not his fiancé yet. I still have a couple months left of freedom.” Adding the last bit to feel out the nature of his relationship with Illumi, you were pleased to hear the chortle that escaped the Killua.

“Guess I’m not the only one who finds Illumi suffocating.” The sadness in his eyes betrayed his joking tone and you wondered just how suffocating Illumi’s presence was to his younger brother. “So how did you get hurt?”

You told him about Rivero’s death, your job in Meteor City, and the encounter with Saul and his men ending in their deaths at the hand of Illumi. Killua was quick to point out Illumi as the root cause of your accident and you quickly found yourself warming up to him.

“Illumi will kill anyone who interferes with his plans. He also likes to control those around him.”

“So I’ve noticed.” You said and rubbed the back of your neck where Illumi’s needle had once been embedded. “Sounds like you don’t agree with his ways.”

Killua visibly tensed and you wondered if you went too far. Just when you were going to backtrack, Killua’s body deflated in defeat before scanning the room for intruders despite being the only two people present.

“Illumi and my father expect me to be an assassin for the rest of my life but I don’t want to keep killing people.” Killua admitted, fidgeting with the material of his shorts.

“And what do you want to do?”

Killua’s eyes widened as they met yours and you couldn’t help but feel for the younger boy. “I…I want to have fun.”

You reached over and placed your hand over his. “Then you should go and have fun. This is our only life so we should do the things we want to do—not what other’s want us to do.”

“Then why don’t you try to break off things with Illumi. If it’s contract-based then there should be ways to null it.”

Watching Killua wrack his brain for ways to break off your betrothal caused a surge of warmth to spread across your chest. He was nothing like Illumi or the rumors that circulated regarding the Zoldycks and you felt grateful to have met him first. With your mind clouded by emotions, you let your guard down even more and opened your mouth to tell Killua about your plan.

“Actually, my parents and I are—”

The door swung open to reveal an old man with white hair. You raised your guard and shut your mouth as Zeno Zoldyck shuffled over to you and Killua. With the opportunity to find out more about the Zoldycks and your marriage deal before you, the corners of your mouth rose to mimic a shy smile and you lowered your gaze.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Zoldyck.”

You looked up to find him sitting next to Killua as he regarded you before smirking. “I’m sure you are.”

He saw behind your smile and sugar-coated words but you continued the façade to avoid a confrontation you weren’t ready for. “Thank you for allowing me to recover in your home, Mr. Zoldyck, and I apologize for the inconvenience.”

“Call me Zeno,” he replied, crossing his arms. “Mr. Zoldyck is my son. As for your stay, it’s no inconvenience, after all, this will be your home soon enough.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” The words tasted bitter as they left your mouth. You felt helpless in front of the man responsible for your betrothal and the urge to leave the mansion returned.

“How has your recovery been?”

“Huh?”

The question brought you back from your thoughts and you found Zeno studying your face the way Illumi did only you could see a twinge of genuine interest in his eyes.

“Oh, it’s been going well. My leg is almost completely healed thanks to Canary’s care.”

Zeno smiled at the mention of the young butler. “It’s good to hear Canary has served you well.”

“Did Illumi ask you for Canary?” Killua interjected but Zeno merely chuckled and shook his head.

“No, I offered her up when I heard what happened to Y/N.” Zeno then turned to you. “You see, Canary is under my supervision and, as your grandfather’s granddaughter, I wanted to make sure you were cared for.”

Zeno’s words caught you off guard. You’d always assumed Zeno hated your deceased grandfather for the large debt, so finding out that he personally sent one of his butlers to attend you was a revelation you hadn’t expected.

“Were you close with my grandfather?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t have lent him so much money if we weren’t” The old man laughed while you tried to make sense of the information you’d been given.

“I just assumed you held a grudge against him for the massive amount of debt.” You admitted, hoping Zeno would disclose more.

“Perhaps at one point I did, but he was a good friend despite his poor money management skills. Illumi told me he got into debt with other people and that you and your parents are paying off that debt.”

Your throat closed at the mention of the “other debt” lie you’d told Illumi. It wasn’t that you weren’t prepared to recount the lie to Zeno or the other Zoldycks but the way he said it, made you doubt it’s effectiveness.

Gone was the geniality on Zeno’s face as his eyes searched for a chink in your armor that he could exploit. Knowing you were on thin ice, you played off your surprise as embarrassment over the large amounts of debt your late grandfather owed others which seemed to get Zeno off your tail.

Killua saved you by changing the topic to your work experience as a hunter and you were more than happy to oblige with tales of your jobs from the most difficult, interesting, and just flat out weird. Killua seemed to enjoy your tales while Zeno would nod occasionally to show he was listening but never commented. Eventually, Killua asked about the Hunter Exam but just then a knock on the door interrupted you and the door swung open to reveal Gotoh, one of the butlers you were familiar with, who informed Zeno that dinner was being served.

“You should join us, Y/N.” Zeno declared and you knew it wasn’t a suggestion. “My son and his wife would like to meet you.”

#illumi x reader #illumi fanfic #illumi x you #hxh #hxh fanfic #illumi x y/n #hxh x reader #hxh x you #illumi #illumi zoldyck #hunter x hunter #hxh x y/n #killua #killua zoldyck #zeno zoldyck #ongoing fic #slow burn #navs.hxh #navs.cathexis

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tails89 · 3 years ago

Note

If you’re still doing the prompts thing, could you do #20 (“This is, without a doubt, the stupidest plan you’ve ever come up with...I’m in.”) with Buddie from 9-1-1 please? And if not, no worries. :)

Hey there, sorry this took so long. Sometimes my brain just doesn't want to cooperate...

Anyway, hope you enjoy (I changed the prompt a lil)

Also posted on AO3

“Here.” The beer appears in Buck’s peripheral vision, and he reaches for it, fingers slipping in the cool condensation that beads down the side of the bottle.

“Thanks man.” He takes a long sip and stares out into the backyard. “Oh, hey. How were parent teacher interviews yesterday?”

Eddie groans and drops heavily onto the porch swing, throwing his legs up on the railing beside Buck’s.

“They were fine,” he says, taking a long drink from his beer.

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound fine,” Buck says, twisting to face Eddie. “Is everything okay with Chris? Is there—"

“Christopher’s fine.” Eddie cuts Buck off before he can get too worked up. “He’s doing well in school, got lots of friends.”

“Oh.” Buck takes a sip of his own drink. “So, what’s the matter then?”

Eddie pulls his feet from the railing and plants them on the porch.

“He’s got this one teacher, and every time I see her, she’s got something to say about me being a single dad.” Eddie leans forward, his elbows braced on his knees. “Like I’m not good enough for him on my own.”

“You know that’s bullshit,” Buck says. “You’re a great dad.”

Eddie just waves him off.

“Anyway, she was going on about my job and how the long hours aren’t fair on Chris and how alone he is... anyway... Chris told her he’s not alone. He said he’s got me and Carla, Pepa and Abuela and... his Buck.”

“Of course, Eds, you know we’re all there for Chris.”

“I know but, I just—I don’t know why I said it.” Eddie leans back against the swing, staring out into the night.

“Said what?”

“I may have told her we were together...”

The half-mouthful of beer goes down the wrong hole and Buck chokes.

“What?” He wipes his sleeve against his mouth to catch the liquid that’s spilled down his chin.

“It just came out. She kept going on about the type of home environment I was providing, and I know I shouldn’t have let it get to me, but—Chris was so excited. I tried to tell him it wasn’t true—"

“Eddie, it’s fine.” Buck fidgets with the label on his bottle. He can’t quite bring himself to look at his best friend, afraid his face will give him away. It makes sense now why Chris was so happy to see him today, and perhaps why it had taken so long for Eddie to get him into bed. “You need to tell him though.”

“I know.” Eddie sighs and drains his beer. “I honestly didn’t think he’d be excited about the prospect of me dating again. We haven’t really talked about it.”

Buck isn’t excited about the idea of Eddie dating again, dating someone else. He keeps his mouth shut though and finishes his beer. The seeds of a very terrible, stupid plan start to take root in his brain.

“Hey, if uh,” the words stick in his throat. “If you need some time, to tell Chris, I don’t mind pretending for a day or two.” Buck’s heart is pounding so loud in his chest, he wonders if Eddie can hear it too. “Just until you do.”

Eddie laughs, tipping his head back against the seat.

“That is, without a doubt, the stupidest idea you’ve ever come up with...” he says, still chuckling.

“Ha, yeah,” Buck plasters a grin on his face. “Pretty stupid.”

“You know what, I’m in,” Eddie says, regaining his composure. “Just for a day or so. I’ve got the rest of the parent teacher interviews tomorrow night and then I’ll sit Chris down and explain it was a misunderstanding.”

“What about the rest of the team?” Buck asks. “We’ve got a ten-hour shift tomorrow. What happens if they find out?”

“They won’t.” Eddie’s tone is warm and reassuring but Buck shakes his head.

“It just takes one,” he points out. “If Maddie finds out, she’ll tell Chim. And if Chim finds out—” he lets his head tip back with a groan, “—he’ll tell everyone.”

“Is it really that big of a deal?” Eddie asks him, planting his feet back on the porch and sitting up.

Yes, because if people find out that they’re ‘dating’ they’ll have questions and Buck can’t handle that kind of scrutiny, not when he’s already harbouring major feelings for his best friend.

“No,” he says instead. “I guess not. It’s just one day. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Buck pulls up at the station bright and early the next morning. He parks beside Eddie’s truck, a smile spreading across his face when he realises he has Chris with him.

“Bucky!” Chris's whole face lights up and he throws his arms around Buck.

“Hey bud.” Buck ruffles the kid’s hair and walks with them towards the firehouse. “What are you doing here?”

“Pepa’s running late,” Eddie explains. “She got caught up in traffic, so she’s going to pick Chris up from here. She shouldn’t be long,” he says, addressing Bobby this time.

“It’s not a problem. You hungry Chris?” Bobby asks, matching Chris’ pace as they head for the stairs. “I’ll see what I can rustle up for breakfast and you can tell me all about school.”

Chris nods along enthusiastically, following on behind Bobby.

“Hey Christopher.” Chimney leans over the balcony rail. “You got any fun stories for us kid?”

“Oh yeah!” Chris hands his dad one of his crutches so he can free up a hand to grip the stair rail. “Did you guys know Dad and Buck are dating?”

Every eye in the building turns to them.

The thing about the station is that it’s never truly quiet. There’s always some noise, some movement, no matter the time of day. But in that moment Buck could have heard a pin drop.

Hen is the first to break the silence.

“Alright, pay up.” She waves her fingers in Chim's face. “Better luck next time boys,” she crows, holding out her hands.

“I definitely heard you say November,” Chimney argues.

“I said, before November.” Hen grins. “It’s before November. Now pay up.”

“You couldn’t have waited just a few more weeks?” Chimney asks them. “Really, is that too much to ask?”

“What is happening right now?” Buck stares at his friends in disbelief. “Have you all been taking bets on us?”

Hen and Chimney share a look. “Uh, yes.”

They say it together, Hen bursting into laughter at the indignation on Buck’s face. “Oh please, you think you’re so hard to read? You wear your heart on your sleeve, Buckaroo. I read you.”

She counts the money she’s won, stuffing the notes into her pocket. “You boys just paid for my anniversary dinner. I can’t wait to tell Karen.” She pauses. “I don’t suppose you two also offer babysitting services?”

Buck bites his lip to hold back the panic clawing at his chest. His gaze flicks to Eddie, laughing and reassuring Chris that he’s not in trouble for spilling the beans. He’s acting like it’s nothing—like their whole team hasn’t been plotting behind their backs.

Eddie had promised that no one else would know, but that had gone down the drain in seconds. And now what? Do they keep up the lie or do they come clean? The idea of telling everyone that it’s not real is worse than knowing they’d been betting on him and Eddie getting together. Or do they already know that too? Maybe that’s the next bet and they’re all just waiting.

“I, uh—” Buck takes a half step back. “I’ll just be back in a minute.”

He doesn’t run for the stairs. He keeps his gait even until he’s at the bottom of the staircase and then he makes his escape to the bathrooms.

Buck spends the rest of the day avoiding the team. Well, avoiding them as much as he is able while still doing his job. While they’re at the station, he finds chores to keep himself busy, ignoring the looks he gets from Hen and Chim and ignoring the friendly teasing that he can’t take a joke.

Avoiding Eddie is the worst. Buck can’t bring himself to do it. He constantly finds himself gravitating back towards his best friend, drawn like a moth to a flame.

Buck keeps waiting for Eddie to pull him aside and ask why he’s not keeping his end of the bargain. Eddie keeps looking over at him, face pinched with an expression Buck can’t quite name. He’s probably pissed Buck couldn’t even keep it up for twenty-four hours, and now they’re both going to look like fools in front of the rest of the team.

“Thought I’d find you hiding in here.”

Buck glances up from the bunk to catch Bobby leaning in the doorway.

“I’m not hiding.”

“Good, because lunch is ready.” He goes to leave, then stops, rapping his knuckles against the door frame. “For what it’s worth Buck, we’re happy for you. Both of you.”

“Thanks Bobby.” Buck stands slowly, inhaling deeply. He can do this. He can pretend to be dating Eddie in front of his co-workers while also somehow pretending that he’s not wildly in love with his best friend. He’s got this, no problem.

Buck lets the breath go in a rush.

He’s so fucked.

Everyone’s eyes look up as Buck reaches the kitchen. He’s the last to sit and there’s just the one spare seat left beside Eddie.

As he settles into the chair, Eddie bumps their knees together under the table and offers Buck a reassuring smile.

“So,” Chim says reaching for the salad bowl. “I need details. When did this start?” He gestures between the two of them with the salad tongs before loading up his plate.

“Yeah, how long have you been keeping this from us?” Albert pipes up.

Buck swallows against the lump in his throat. They should have come up with something, just in case, but now they have nothing and—

“It was a few weeks after I got home from the hospital.”

Buck glances across at Eddie, brows knit together in confusion.

“I’d broken up with Ana and Buck was over a lot, helping with Chris,” Eddie explains, accepting a plate from Hen. “There was this one day. Buck had just got back after dropping Chris at school and we realised Chris had forgotten to take this book he’d wanted for show and tell.”

Buck can feel his frown deepening. He remembers this.

“Anyway, Buck wanted to go all the way back to Chris’ school to give it to him. Wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Eddie’s looking at him now, holding Buck’s gaze as he recounts the story. The whole team is looking at them, the heat of their scrutiny makes Buck squirm in his seat. “I said it didn’t matter, Chris could just take it another day, but Buck said—"

“It matters to Chris.” Buck feels his face flush. At the time, Eddie had laughed and said something about Buck being too good for them before Buck had run out of the house clutching the book.

“It just kind of hit me, you know?” Eddie finally looks away, reaching for the bread rolls in the middle of the table. “Just how lucky I am to have him and how much he cares about us and… I kissed him.”

There’s a collective gasp from around the table and all eyes turn back on Buck.

“And what did you do, Buckaroo?” Hen asks, leaning forward in her seat.

“I uh—” Buck glances at Eddie, eyes wide. “I kissed him back?”

“Yeah, and it was about damn time,” Chimney shouts around a mouthful of pasta. “You guys are so cute. It’s disgusting.”

The rest of the shift is better after that. Everyone seems satisfied by their story and Buck lets himself fall back into his regular comfortable rhythm, hanging with Eddie between call outs. There is still some awkwardness to it, Buck can’t stop his mind from wandering back to that morning, imagining what it would have been like if it had gone more like Eddie’s story. He’s surprised Eddie even remembered it, it had been just another day between the regular doctor and physical therapy appointments that consumed his every waking minute.

He waits until later that night to say anything. Chris is in bed and they’re back on the porch nursing a beer each.

“Can I, uh, ask you a question?” Buck tears at the label on his bottle. “That thing you said at lunch, about how we got together…” He trails off, not quite sure how to verbalise the whirlwind of feelings it had stirred in him.

“Yeah, well I had to say something convincing,” Eddie says, taking a sip of his beer.

“Oh, right. Yeah.” Buck had spent the whole afternoon thinking that maybe, just maybe his feelings for Eddie weren’t as one-sided as he’d initially thought. This though, this is like a bucket of ice water to the face. “I don’t think I can do this, Eds.”

Eddie’s head jerks up.

“I thought I could pretend, but I can’t.”

“Why did you suggest it then?” Eddie doesn’t sound angry. Buck almost wishes he did, it would be easier if the were both yelling at each other. Anything would be better than the soft disappointment in Eddie’s tone.

“I thought—” Buck takes a breath and tries again. “I wasn’t thinking when I suggested it. I think there was just a part of me that thought that getting to pretend with you was better than nothing. It’s not though, it just made it that much more obvious how much I want this— want us.” Putting down his beer, Buck goes to stand. “I’m sorry. I’m gonna go—”

“Wait. Buck.” Eddie catches his arm. “I should have kissed you.”

“What?”

“Chris’ show and tell. I didn’t kiss you that day, but I wanted to. You were just out the door so damn fast.”

“You wanted to kiss me?”

Eddie pulls him back down onto the swing with a fond eyeroll. “We’re you not listening to my story at lunch?” he asks, voice teasing. “I meant what I said about how it just hit me. You’re amazing Buck, and Chris and I are both so lucky to have someone like you, someone who cares with everything you have. I think I’ve loved you for a while, but that morning I knew.”

“I love you too.” Buck knows he’s grinning like an idiot, but right now he doesn’t care. “I know you didn’t kiss me back then but… you can kiss me now.”

And Eddie does.

It starts off soft and slow—a tentative brushing of their lips, but then as neither of them back off it grows more desperate. Buck curls his fingers in the hem of Eddie’s shirt, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

When he finally pulls away, they’re both red-faced and breathing hard.

“So, I guess this means we don’t need to break up,” Buck says with a laugh.

“No,” Eddie agrees. “I plan on keeping you around for a long time.”

#9-1-1 #buddie #evan buckley x eddie diaz #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fanfic #fake dating #my911fanfic

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 3 years ago

Photo

Words: 2,281 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan Warnings: none really! Summary: Daryl tries to take care of Y/N after her injury, as they both worry about the future.

Your name: submit What is this?

Daryl awoke with a start at the sound of something crashing and breaking in your room. He was immediately on his feet, clutching the hilt of your knife in his hand and bursting into the room to find you sprawled out on the floor halfway between the bed and the bathroom, a toppled nightstand and a broken lamp beside you. He let out a relieved breath that there was no immediate unexpected threat and stuck the knife back in its sheath, trying to control his heart rate again. You had a hand clutched to your leg and now that he looked at you, he could see you were clammy with sweat and pale, taking in slow but shaky breaths. “Hey—Ya alright? What ya doin’ outta bed?” he asked, bending to take you gently by the arm and pull you to your feet, but you shook him off.

“Nothing. I—I just—I was trying to get to the bathroom,” you said, smoothing your hand up and down your injured leg, tracing the length of the bandaged wounds. It was burning like a son of a bitch. You’d tried to put the slightest amount of weight on it… a terrible idea.

Daryl straightened up and nodded. “Oh.” He shifted, feeling a bit awkward, but scrutinizing your condition again. “You still need to—?”

“No. Never mind,” you said, still smoothing your hand over your leg.

“Ya look pale. Ya got a fever?” he asked, his expression darkening.

You sighed, gritting your teeth and closing your eyes against another pang of sharp pain through your leg. “I don’t know. I don’t think so,” you murmured.

Daryl gulped and extended a hand to you again. This time you allowed him to help you to your feet, avoiding putting weight on your leg. He studied your face carefully for a moment and hesitated briefly before reaching out to place the back of his hand on your forehead. Your skin was clammy, but not overly hot.

“I dun think ya got a fever,” he said, relieved. He helped you sit down on the edge of your bed, his hands only slipping from you once you were securely settled. You wiped a shaky hand across your forehead and he took in the vaguely greyed tinge on your face. “Ya dun look so good though. How ya feelin’?”

You took in a few measured breaths before lifting your eyes from the floor to meet his.

He seemed to be able to guess what that meant and nodded. “What hurts?”

You shook your head and stared absently toward the floor again. “Everything,” you admitted. “That’s why I was trying to get to the bathroom. The pain is making me nauseous.” You hesitated. “I’m not gonna show you but I’m… a bit bruised and battered.” A previous exploratory glance beneath your shirt had revealed dark bruises blooming over much of your torso.

Daryl straightened up and nodded, his lips tight in a small frown. “I’d imagine.” That would also explain your clammy skin and pale complexion. He rounded the bed to the other side table and grabbed the small bottle of painkillers. “Ya can take another one of—”

“I don’t want it,” you cut him off. “Just—can you help me sit up in bed?” you asked. Every movement seemed to twinge something. Daryl replaced the little prescription bottle and came around the bed, helping you scoot up so you could lean back against the headboard. “Thanks…” you murmured.

“Mhm,” he hummed.

You could feel his eyes on you again for a long moment before you met them. He anxiously chewed his bottom lip. “I dun s’pose ya got any crutches around here somewhere?”

You shook your head. “No.”

“Seems like ya got just about everything else in the med kit,” he drawled. “Lucky for us.”

You adjusted the quilt over your lap and unconsciously rested a hand over your leg again as it seemed to flare with a burning pain. “Yeah. My dad was—”

“—an army medic,” he finished. “I know. Brian told me.” Daryl pulled the chair back up at the bedside and sank down into it. At the mention of his name your face contorted a little, almost like an involuntary flinch. Daryl nervously licked his lips as the silence grew heavy. When he next glanced up, about to ask you if you’d drink some of the broth he’d made, your eyes were fixed intensely on his face again.

“Why’d you come looking for me?” you asked him. You were growing tired again and it was audible in your voice. An expression of confusion passed over his face and his head cocked slightly to the side. “You could have just—you could have just left me. Kept this place for yourself. I’m a stranger to you. Why would you risk yourself like that? You didn’t know where I was or what trouble I’d run into.”

“Why didn’t ya just leave me?” he countered. The gruff quality in his voice was somehow reassuring, heavy with gravel and sincere. You only stared back. “And I may be a stranger to you, but ya ain’t to me. Yer Brian’s sister. And that’s enough.”

You shook your head, still in a little disbelief. “But why?” you pressed him.

Daryl stared down at his hands for a moment, scratching at the side of his thumbnail absently with his index finger. “Because he was my brother. Maybe not by blood… but he was. And that means yer family too. And he told me enough about ya that—somehow ya don’t feel like a stranger.”

You felt a few tears burning in your eyes and you turned your face until you could blink the wetness away. Daryl shifted nervously in his chair. “Can I ask ya what ya were doin’ out there?”

His blue eyes were fixed on your face again but you didn’t see any judgement in them. There was no scolding or annoyance in his gaze. There was only concern and an inquisitiveness he knew he had no right to.

Your lips parted slightly and you wet them with your tongue before you spoke. Your eyes fell back down toward the quilt. “There’s a waterfall. It’s not too far. About four miles from here. Every time we came up here, whether it was for a weekend or a week, Brian and I hiked there. Didn’t matter what the weather was, we made the trip. We called it our pilgrimage.” You paused, feeling a surge of pain that had nothing to do with your injuries. “I just—I thought maybe if I went that I would—would feel him there.” You let out a heavy sigh, your eyes squeezed shut and your head fell back to lean against the headboard. “It was stupid. I’m not naïve enough to really think there’s something after we die. I know he’s gone. Gone gone.” The muscle in your jaw tensed as you clenched your teeth together.

“Ain’t stupid.” Daryl’s deep voice caused your eyes to open quickly and catch his again. You were taken aback by the softness of his expression. He cleared his throat a little nervously. “Lemme bring ya some broth and some water. Ya need somethin’ in ya. Ya lost a lot of blood.” He didn’t wait for a response, just got up and returned with a steaming mug and a huge glass of water for you. He sank back down in the chair again. “I thought bears were s‘posed to be hibernatin’ this time of year,” he said.

“They are.” You accepted the mug of broth from him despite not really wanting it. You were beginning to realize that Daryl was going to insist on caring for you despite any efforts you made to push him away. “But they can occasionally wake up, especially if they sense danger or their fat reserves are getting too low.” You paused again, wrapping your fingers around the warm mug.

“Mmm,” he hummed. “So, if they wake up, they’re hungry and/or pissed?” You nodded and sipped the broth. You had to admit that it was delicious and it seemed to warm you from the inside out. “I feel bad. I shot it,” you said quietly.

Daryl stared at you, incredulous for a moment. “Ya feel bad for shootin’ the grizzly that was tryin’ to kill ya?”

You shrugged. “They were here first. And it was just being a bear. I walked up on it feeding on an elk carcass. It was just trying to protect its food.” A far-off look grew in your eyes for a moment. “Still behaved more reasonably than some people these days,” you trailed off, taking another sip.

“Mmm,” Daryl nodded. “Well, based on the tracks I saw, that thing was a beast. ‘M sure it’ll be fine.” He stood up, pushing the chair back away from the bed. “You on the other hand are gonna have to take it easy for quite a while. Drink that. And then try to get some rest. I’m gonna make ya some crutches so ya can at least get up and around a little.” He turned to go but you called him back.

“Daryl.” You gave him a long look and he watched your brow furrow. “Thank you. For coming looking.” You gulped. “If you hadn’t been here—”

“But I was,” he interjected.

You nodded. “You saved my life.”

He shrugged vaguely and pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth again. “Guess we’ll count it even then.” He turned to go but you called his name one more time.

“It’s 25-11-18,” you said.

His brow furrowed.

“The gun safe,” you said, nodding to large black safe in the corner of the room. “It’s got all your weapons in it. And I think you can probably put the knives back in the kitchen where they belong…” you said. “I don’t think you’re likely to murder me at this point, after saving my life.”

He nodded. “Got it.” He went to the safe and retrieved his crossbow, handgun, and his knives. It was a relief to have them back in hand again. Before he left the room, he handed you back the hunting knife he’d taken off you when you were unconscious and he set your pistol on the side table. Just in case.

Later that afternoon, he came and knocked quietly on the door again to check on you and bring you something more substantial to eat if you were feeling up to it. It was a long shot, but he had to try. Your voice was soft as you told him to come in and he set a steaming bowl of rice, wild turkey, and vegetables on the nightstand. He was happy to see that you’d drank all the broth and water he’d brought in earlier.

“Thanks,” you said, watching him sink down into the chair next to you again. He felt your eyes on him for a long moment again, the atmosphere in the room feeling pregnant with things unsaid, and he looked up, a question on his brow. You opened your mouth to speak and closed it several times. “Did—Did it happen a few months ago? In November?” you asked quietly. “Brian, I mean.” Bear shifted beside you on the bed and let out a faint whine, resting his head on your knee.

Daryl nodded but was surprised at the specificity of your question. It had seemed more like a knowing statement almost. “How’d ya know that?”

You stroked a finger along the silky fur on Bear’s muzzle and up the rise of his forehead. “You know, people talk about the weird connection between twins… how we can feel each other’s pain or tell when the other is upset or sick… Feel the other person’s happiness. I’m sure a lot of people think it’s bullshit or some spiritualist crap but Brian and I had it our whole lives, even after he moved across the country.” You stopped and took a breath, sinking back into the silky folds of memory. “There was one time when we were kids and he was at soccer practice and I was at gymnastics. I landed wrong dismounting the balance beam and broke my ankle. My dad said the soccer coach had called him at home in the middle of Brian’s practice and said Brian had doubled over on the field for no reason and insisted he needed to go home.”

You sighed heavily and Daryl could feel the weight on you like it was on his shoulders too. “A few months back, out of the blue, I had this panic attack. Couldn’t figure out any rational reason for it.” Daryl’s eyes flitted over how exhausted you looked all of a sudden. “I’ve never had one before and I haven’t had one since… but for days after it happened, I could hardly get out of bed. I didn’t really know why. Except that maybe I did.” Your voice finally broke with emotion and Daryl struggled with what to do, what he should say. Before he could try, you asked him something else. “Will you tell me? How—how it happened?” you asked. Your eyes were wide and wet with tears as you looked at him.

His face grew sad, but he nodded. “Ya. When yer ready. And a bit healed up. I’ll tell ya anythin’ ya wanna know.”

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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willowandfog · 3 years ago

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Taking Flight

Summary: Kagome has been struggling with her disability most of her life but she's never felt anything but normal with Inuyasha always steadily by her side. But when her neurologist approaches her with the chance to recover full use of her leg, she takes it.

A childhood friends to lovers, soulmates AU

Read on AO3 or Below the Cut

Sorry this is a day late, work got in the way and I literally fell asleep at my desk yesterday trying to write this chapter ^.^

See you soon for chapter six, first date!

Kagome would never let Inuyasha find out about the fact that she had brought work with her. It really needed to get done, and even though she was technically already on vacation she felt responsible for it. Besides, she knew that she would need the distraction it would bring. She was staying with her mother, Inuyasha and herself had reluctantly agreed to sleep apart for the night.

Stupid tradition. She thought. It’ll be good for you guys, they said. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they said.

Kagome rolled her eyes and sighed. Leaning back she tried to loosen her shoulders and relax a little further into the tub. She would admit that it had been nice to just sit and have some girl time over a lovely dinner with her mother and Izayoi, and her grandfather adding in cheeky commentary every now and then. Steam rose from amongst the lavender scented bubbles as Kagome closed her eyes and shifted her head, trying to get her neck into a more comfortable position, the loose tendrils that framed her face growing damp from the brief dip into the tub.

The tension in her body began to melt away and she hummed in appreciation.

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Inuyasha was in a daze as he sat on their comfortable tan couch. He was in Kagome’s normal spot because it held her scent more than anywhere else, other than the bed; but he decided he wasn’t going to be that guy, laying in bed missing her, yet. The television was on but he wasn’t paying attention, he was missing her; he’d been away from her before, obviously. But never like this, not in a long time, not since they had both turned eighteen and moved into the apartment together. They spent their work days apart but they always, always were together while they slept. It helped soothe them both, him more so with his youkai instincts screaming at him to bond with her. When she was safe and content in his arms he was settled, he was at peace with himself, mostly. He found that the youkai was most quiet when he was being intimate with Kagome and they had been abstaining from that for the past week.

He sighed, throwing his head back. He felt like there were bugs crawling under his skin, like his youkai was going to claw out of his body and rip the door off its hinges and go find its mate. He knew where she was staying, of course; she was spending the night at her mother’s, but knowing he wouldn’t see her till tomorrow afternoon, and the thought of sleeping without her was driving him crazy. A knock on his door snapped him out of his stupor.

Kagome! No, stupid, Kagome wouldn’t need to knock.

With a sigh, he rose to answer the door. When the door swung open he let out an audible groan.

“What do you guys want?”

“Greetings, my liege. Thy fair maiden has bestowed upon us a quest.” Miroku grinned at him as he presented his arm full of liquor bottles.

“What the hell are you talking about and why are you talking like that?”

“Because he already started drinking in the car and you pick the weirdest friends.” Kouga stated from his position behind Miroku, arms folded across his chest.

Inuyasha sighed. “So why are you guys here?” He stepped to the side to allow them inside.

“Thy maiden-”

“No.” Inuyasha said as he closed the door. “You, speak.” He pointed to Kouga before crossing his arms and continuing. “Why are you here? I’m not great company right now.”

Kouga raised a brow as he ventured over to the couch, just as he was about to sit Inuyasha let out a fierce growl.

“I don’t think so, wolf.” Inuyasha spoke through gritted teeth. “You will sit over there.” He pointed to the armchair. “Don’t think I don’t know why you zeroed in on that spot.” Inuyasha went over and sat in the spot Kouga had tried to claim.

Kouga rolled his eyes before moving to the chair. “Kagome sent us over as the idiot said. She thought it would be best if you had friends over to help you make it through the night. Well technically she said ‘could you guys go over and have a guys night, Inuyasha might have a tough time by himself.’”

Inuyasha’s heart ached and he found himself rubbing a hand across his chest. Of course she would make sure he wasn’t alone without her. She was the most amazing, thoughtful person in the world. She was so sweet, kind, and never selfish. She should never have to do anything for herself, she should be taken care of, always.

Inuyasha suddenly stood, he had to go to Kagome, she might need him. He had almost reached the door when Kouga was blocking the way, holding a hand up as if that would stop him.

“Move. I’m going to Kagome, screw this sleeping apart shit.”

Kouga didn’t move. “Come on, Inuyasha. It’s just one night, Kagome is safe at her mother’s and you’ll see her tomorrow. You’re getting married tomorrow, the next time you see her she will be walking down the aisle to pledge herself to you. You’re a man, not a wild animal, pull yourself together.”

Kouga rested his hands on Inuyasha’s shoulders and turned him around, giving him a nudge back towards the couch. “Now go sit, let Miroku pour you a drink and we can hang out and be bros or whatever.”

Miroku handed Inuyasha one of the bottles of bourbon he had set on the coffee table before sitting on the opposite end of the couch.

“Really?” Inuyasha questioned him, sitting. “You think trying to get me drunk will help with my decision making and that I might feel less like shit about the fact that she’s not here?”

Miroku shrugged. “Nah. Just thought a little might help you relax. Try not to be so aggressive, your mate is fine, you’ll see her tomorrow, and for now you sit and relax and hang out with your friends.”

Inuyasha sighed as he twisted open the bottle and took a swig. “So why are you here? We aren’t friends, acquaintances at best.”

Kouga let out a chuckle. “‘Cause Kagome and I are friends, and she asked me to come over. She wanted someone that would be able to help in case you went all crazy youkai on Miroku trying to leave the apartment.”

“Ok, ok. Fine. I know that this is something that Kagome agreed to, and she obviously wants to stick with it, so I’ll try my best to reign in the urge to bolt out of here. Pick up a bottle Kouga, let’s get drunk.”

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Kagome sat on the guest bed, back propped up against the headboard, her comfortable Slytherin pajama bottoms on paired with one of Inuyasha’s shirts that was far too large on her small frame. Her damp hair was thrown into a messy bun on top of her head and she had her work laptop in her lap. As she typed furiously away on her computer her mind kept trying to wander. She wondered if Inuyasha was holding up ok, knowing that this separation would be harder on him with his need to bond.

Checking the time, she knew that Miroku and Kouga must be there by now, she hoped they were distracting him. She contemplated texting one of them to make sure they were over there and that things were going alright, but decided against it since she knew that Inuyasha would have a harder time if he knew she was worrying over him. She was briefly curious to know what they were doing to occupy their time but decided against that line of thoughts so she tried to focus back on her work.

When she found her thoughts straying again sometime later, she closed her laptop on a huff. Climbing from the bed, she placed her laptop back into her bag before making her way to the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed. As she was brushing her teeth she thought about Inuyasha, and how he had always placed her needs first. Hell, he had built his life around her, his career was even chosen for her benefit. Wanting to be able to take care of her the best that he could, he had gone into physical therapy, spending years in school and gaining his doctorate.

The surgery she had undergone had worked as well as could have been expected, she could mostly walk correctly, she had a noticeable limp at times but never required her crutch, and when her leg would get sore or start cramping up, she would just wear her leg brace and everything would be fine. Now that she didn’t need constant therapy, she wondered if Inuyasha would think or want to change specialties. She hadn’t had the opportunity to speak with him about it yet, with her healing and rehabilitation after the surgery and with the upcoming wedding, but she made a note to do so soon.

She would be forever grateful that he had chosen a physical therapy career, but it also caused her some guilt every now and then. He had picked his path because of her; if she hadn’t had her stupid injury, would he still have gone down that road? She didn’t think he would have, and she would make sure that he knew how much she loved him for his decision but that he didn’t have to stay in a career that he didn’t enjoy, especially if there was something else he would rather be doing.

She snuggled under the covers, tugging the extra pillow over to cuddle with, wishing once again that she was back home with Inuyasha.

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“I still can’t believe you tried to kiss her!” Miroku burst into another round of hysterical laughter, almost toppling off his seat. “You’re so lucky,” he sucked in a breath between his laughs, “that Kagome is so soft-hearted. Inuyasha,” more laughter escaped him, “Inuyasha would’ve killed you!”

Kouga tried to resist Miroku’s contagious laughter but couldn’t, finding himself chuckling even as he glared at him. “Well, i-s was worth it; I was a hair's breaths away from being Kagome’s fir-rsst kiss. If I would ‘ave kissed her and died as a result, it would have been worth it.”

Inuyasha growled. “Watch it.”

“What?” Kouga gasped in feigned disbelief. “You should take that as a compl-lment. Your mate is highly dessirable and she wants only you. If the roles were r-reversed here, and gods do I wish they were, I’d be rubbing it in your face. If I got to touch that perfects body, and kiss those lus-...luscious lips and smell her delicious c-”

Inuyasha pounced, tackling Kouga from his spot on the edge of the chair and rolling with him to the ground. They rolled over one another over and over, both trying to get the upper hand, both too drunk and uncoordinated to function well.

“Here’s an idea,” Kouga said between the rolls, “we should hav-a rematch, winner getsss to marryy ‘Gome tomorrow.”

Inuyasha jumped to his feet, swaying, and put his fists in the air. “You got it. Y-your’s so going dow..n” He tilted his head as if confused by his own words. “Kick yooour ass again.”

Kouga slowly rose, using the back of the chair for balance. “Dream on, doggie...dog boooy.”

When Kouga took a wavery step towards Inuyasha, raising his own fists, a loud snore snapped both of their attention to the couch. Miroku lay sprawled out on the couch face down, arm dangling off the side, empty bottle dangling from his fingers.

Inuyasha dropped his arms and straightened. “Better idea. I go lay on ‘Gome’s sside of the bed, and dream ‘bout how ‘morrow she’ll be my wife and my soul bond-ded mate.”

“Nooo.” Kouga whined as Inuyasha stumbled towards the bedroom. “Come back, fight. I wanna marry ‘Gome.”

“Dream on, wolf.”

As Inuyasha dropped face first into the bed, he pulled Kagome’s pillow close, snuggling his face in deep as he held it tight to his chest. He breathed in a deep breath of her scent, missing the chirp from his pocket, as he quickly succumbed to his drunken sleep.

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Kagome laid there, staring into the darkness, realizing that she couldn’t sleep without the sound of Inuyasha’s soft snoring and his warmth surrounding her. She groaned at herself as she felt the beginnings of tears start to form, swiping at her cheeks when they escaped. Giving in, she rolled over and grabbed her cell phone from the night stand. Rolling back into her spot, she sent a text to Inuyasha, telling him that she couldn’t sleep and that she thought hearing his voice might help.

She lay staring at her phone, waiting for almost an hour before she decided that he must have gone to sleep already. Putting Friends on the television, she laid on her side and hoped that sleep would come soon.

@ruddcatha @superpixie42 @dawnrider @smmahamazing @bluejay785 @lavendertwilight89 @mamabearcat @fawn-eyed-girl @clearwillow @i-dream-of-soup @liz8080 @zelink-inukag @malditamigs

#inukag #inuyasha x kagome #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fanfic #inukagfluffweek2021 #inukagfluffweek day 5 #pining

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