#if you were wondering why it takes me so long to get a chapter written this is why
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bitterrobin · 7 months ago
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Can you tell I get really into documenting my hc/au?
I love breaking down characters like this bc it does make it easier to conform my hc with canon without making everything super ooc. Seriously, ask my my hyper specific version of events Willis went through that led up to Jason believing Lady Shiva could've been his bio mom or how Damian's hair was kept shaved a lot during his time in training and now that's he's in Gotham he's able to lather it in mhairgel but also is super unsure about how he looks because he missed his handmaiden Layla. Or why I think Bette and Martha having gap teeth is super important and Tom having colder blue eyes marks a difference in his overall attitude from his dad while also leaning into the feline silver eyes in some his Wildcat-jaguar form art.
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targaryenluvs · 10 months ago
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— HONEYMOON BLISS
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pairings: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader, percy jackson x sister!reader
summary: your relationship with luke was pure joy, but it seems your happiness and love leads to the two of you slipping up.
warnings: none really, fluffy, giggly reader, suspicious percy, flirty luke and annoyed reader, clarisse and chris r detectives, bickering luke and y/n, percabeth crumbs
a/n: it’s coming close to the end, very scary i swear 😭😭 i thought it would take me ages to write this story but i’ve uploaded all chapters in one day and written them lmao
wordcount: 1.2k
taglist: @songofthesuns @gayforyelena @taloulalila @honeydanny @7s3ven @sssi-nr @percabethtears @gr1mes-cc @2hiigh2cry @10ava01 @ahh-chickens @fangirl-swagg @anotherblackreader @midmourn @lovelyforesst @urfavpogue @lilacspider @mysteris-things @whoreyzontal @lunalixya @dangelnleif @wordsarelife
part i, part ii, part iii, part iv - finale out now!!
iii. honeymoon bliss
the smile on your face was very wide. in your hand was a red lipstick you’d long forgotten. “what’s that?” luke hovered over you as you jumped back, “announce your comings and goings castellan, you scared the shit out of me.” luke grinned as he leaned against the wall, your eyes couldn’t help but trail over his arms.
his sleeves were rolled, specks of paint all over.
“take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
“kill yourself, my peace will last longer.”
“ouch, who hurt you?” luke came closer as you placed the cap on the lipstick, “everybody on earth, how do i look?” it wasn’t too bold, a nice color nonetheless , one of your favourites. “perfect, as always.” you smiled before pressing a kiss to his lips, than his cheek, than his jaw. “okay now run along, peeta.” luke’s face contorted, “hate to break it to you, but i’m luke.”
you slapped your palm against your forehead, “i know, i’m calling you peeta, like from hunger games? he paints and bakes?” luke crossed his arms as he stared at you wondering, “there’s a game for hunger? that’s horrible.” you smiled as you kissed him again, “ill explain later, now go before clarisse murders you for being late.” he pressed a kiss to your forehead before heading out, a salute sent your way as he approached the door, “yes ma’am!”
it wasn’t until it was too late that you’d realised, his face was covered in lipstick. but clarisse and chris noticed straight away. “so, you wanna tell us what you’ve been up to?” chris asked as he continued directing the paint roller up and down. “what are you talking about?” clarisses laugh rung out through the air, “i’m talking about the fact that you’re face is covered in lipstick.”
shit. luke clamoured to the nearest window to view your work, he looked pretty nice, he thought. but the stares from chris and clarisse brought him back, “it’s nothing, get back to painting.” and as much as luke would love to wear the marks, he raised his sleeves to wipe them off.
clarisse would not stop staring at your lips, “yknow, if you wanna kiss me, you could’ve said so.” you said as she shoved your arm, “as gorgeous as you are, no.” you leaned against the palm of your hand, “got your eye on someone? starts with an a? b?” her foot collided with your shin before you could continue you any further.
as you rubbed it up and down you smiled, “duly noted.” clarisse picked at her food, “as much as i love having you here, why are you at our table?” you sighed, “percy takes forever apparently. usually at the idea of food he comes running.” you laughed as percy flicked your ear, “ow! where have you been?” you stood up and walked to your table, not without a wave towards the ares cabin.
“i barely got away from annabeth, she was working me to the bone.” percy’s eyes immediately flicked to the food infront of him. “oh please you’re as skinny as a twig kelpie.” percy tilted his head, “you’re my sister, which means you’re connected to the sea. yet you’re still calling me kelpie? what even is that?” the goblet in your hands currently held liquid gold, otherwise known as mountain dew, “i don’t know kelpie.” you took a sip from your goblet whilst percy inhaled his food.
“hey percy, y/n.” luke’s voice called out as he walked over to the two of you, you practically froze up. you hadn’t seen him all day since he was currently repainting the hermes cabin after someone, (kids from the ares cabin who’d then blamed their siblings for putting them up to it. which caused them to end up at the infirmary and clarisse painting as a punishment) took their masterful artistry from off their page and onto the walls.
“i hate to ask, but i need more people to help me out, percy?” his mouth was currently stuffed full and you couldn’t help but laugh, “the foods not going anywhere perce, and yes he will help, won’t you percy?” your tone wasn’t exactly asking him, but he didn’t want to paint. you could tell by his lack of response that he wasn’t exactly elated. “i’ll talk to him, he’ll come soon enough. you heading up?”
and so percy watched as the two of you walk away, laughing at you tripping over. “shit, you okay bab—,” your head snapped up at the slip, “i’m fine. it’s just my lace.” you interrupted as luke handed you his tray.
luke bent down as you clutched onto his plate and your own, he patted his knee as you rested your foot. he made quick work of your laces, double knotted and all. “what’s that? world record time?” you scoffed, “you wish.” luke feigned shock, “no faith jackson, no faith.” it was a running joke, your last name being jackson. even if it wasn’t, percy was your brother. and you didn’t really mind it, your parents weren’t exactly heartwarming.
“i have faith, in your failure.” he clutched his chest, “you’re killing me here.” you smiled, “good.” chris’s jaw was quite literally hung open, before clarisse shut it and chris mentally ran laps at the fact that she’d touched him. “they’re so together.”
“undeniably.”
“what’s undeniable?”
chris jumped back at percy’s sudden intrusion into the conversation, “cmon man.” percy shrugged, “what’re you guys talking about?” clarisse rolled her eyes, “none of your business, learn some manners and stop butting into conversations.” it was percy’s turn to roll his eyes, before they focused on the two of you.
“her laces are double knotted, they were untied two seconds ago, she never double knots.” chris rose his eyebrows at percy’s observant eyes, “luke tied them.” he turned back to the picnic table as clarisse turned to her siblings. leaving percy to sigh, “guess i’m painting after all.”
i mean, he had to keep an eye on you. right?
percy had been painting for a record time of ten minutes, before you’d managed to get annabeth to take him away so you could be with luke. she’d unsurprisingly caught on pretty quickly, especially when the two of you had accidentally worn eachothers shirts to the bonfire.
“what’re you doing here seaweed brain?”
percy visibly jumped at annabeths voice, to luke’s amusement. “you alright there?” percy’s thumbs up was a quick response as the boy turned to annabeth, his face was beat red. “hey, annabeth. what’s up?” his voice crack caused luke to laugh, and for percy to roll his eyes.
“i need someone to train with.”
“that’s nice.”
“i’m choosing you.”
“that’s not nice.”
annabeth crossed her arms, her foot tapping impatiently against the floor. she was waiting for him to give in, and her harsh stare was more than enough for him to run after her. you walked to luke with a smile, he was currently bent over as he dabbed his brush in the paint. “nice ass castellan.” luke grinned at your voice, “thanks, yours is… nice i guess.” you punched his arm.
“i think we should go swimming tomorrow.”
“you think?” your eyes flitted back up to his, before returning to painting.
“yes! thank you. i’ll pack everything don’t worry. we should bring the camera.”
“who said i agreed?”
“you didn’t say no, you didn’t shake your head, nothing indicating towards a no. you said, ‘you think?’ you’re asking me if i really want to go, and i do.”
you couldn’t help the smile that came over your face, dam, luke castellan knew you like the back of his hand. “if you feel like skinny dipping, i’m not against it.”
“castellan!” your voice was shrill as you chastised the man, accidentally flicking paint up at him as your hand waved around, his smirk was undeniably devious.
“oh it’s on.” he took his roller and ran it across your face as you shrieked, “i’m going to murder you!”
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simpee9000 · 5 months ago
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Not Just Friends - 2 -
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Prologue : Chapter 1 : Not edited : 3.4k words : M.List
Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.
---
-suit colors -can shut my quirk completely off -isn't a piece of shit -password. -others cant turn my shit off either      -katsuki
The note Katsuki left was majority scribbles, clearly written the second he left. You found it right when you were leaving, the crumpled sticky note being placed next to your keys.
Getting the watch set up and made for him would be difficult. Mainly making sure others can't tamper with his quirk. Everything else would be easy. Two weeks tops. Simply needed to take the same material used for his gloves and gauntlets and use it for his watch. The password and personal quirk disabled features would also be easy, just using the same techniques that normal quirk handcuffs use.
When you got to your office you immediately got to work. Drawing up the design and adding in the small details you wanted to add. You went through your email as well, getting the details Izuku sent you about what he wants. Unluckily for him, you would have to order the stuff he needs, everything Katsuki needed was already in the building. His case was personally yours so you saved up any left over materials from his suit. The quirk removing feature would take more time to set up though.
---
"Hey!" someone shouted, tacking your name to the end.
You just entered Katsuki's hero agency for lunch, talking with the sweet old receptionist. Ignoring the shout, you thanked the lady for buzzing you up. Walking over to the elevators and pushing the button to go up.
"Don't ignore me!" The voice whined. You rolled your eyes stepping into the elevator and frantically clicking the button to close the doors.
The doors almost shut completely, a hand stopping it a second to late and getting crushed.
"Fuckin' christ!" You opened the door as quick as you could, trying to make sure they weren't injured. They were doubled over, holding their hand to their chest. "Are you okay?" You asked, grabbing their shoulder to lift them away, attempting to see the injury.
They started shaking and panic ran through you, before you could yell to the receptionist to call paramedics they started laughing. Standing up straight and smiling, placing their 'injured hand' on your shoulder to support their laughter.
"Oh go fuck yourself," you brushed them off. Pressing the elevator open again.
"I'm sorry it was too easy!" He smiled. Moving to stand next to you again.
You ignored him once again. Stepping into the elevator that he unfortunately joined. Looking at the door that previously crushed his hand. "You broke the door," you pointed out, crossing your arms.
"Holy shit, Bakugo is going to kill me," he paled.
"That's what you get for activating your quirk between metal, Kirishima," you commented.
"Ouch, last name?" he feigned pain, clutching a hand to his heart, "Come on, how was I supposed to know?"
You glanced at him briefly, "You nickname your quirk unbreakable, what did you expect?" You deadpanned.
"Not that!"
"Be serious, I know you're not that dumb," you said, stepping out of the elevator at Katsuki's floor. Beginning the path to his office.
"I just wanted to talk to you," he complained, "but you ignored me completely."
"I wonder why."
"Come on," he pleaded, "I said I was sorry."
"Don't care," you knocked on Katsuki's office.
"Please," he begged.
"No."
Just as Kirishima opened his mouth to beg more, Katsuki opened his door. "The fuck are you two bitching about?" Katsuki looked at you for an answer. Which you shrugged and made your way inside. Sitting in his desk chair and sorting through the food he ordered for you two.
Katsuki turned his head to Kirishima, wanting an answer. "She won't talk to me," he pointed at you like a child.
Katsuki turned to you, raising an eyebrow, "Really?"
Before he could start getting to you about acting like a child you pointed back at Kirishima, "He broke your elevator."
He glared at the red head.
"I was just trying to talk to her!"
"And you needed to break my elevator to do that?"
Kirishima paused his comeback, knowing anything he wanted to say would be flawed. You choked back a laugh, cause Katsuki to turn to you.
"Don't act like you're innocent," he pointed, "All ya had to do was to talk him and my door wouldn't be broken."
"Nah, he broke my shit," you shrugged.
"I said I was sorry!"
"Yet now you just broke his shit too," you backed.
"What else did he break?" Katsuki asked.
You pointed towards Kirishima, and his hero outfit, "He broke his shoulder guards, again. I've fixed them five times this month because of the stupid shit he is doing."
"Whatever, out," Katsuki motioned for Kirishima to leave. Which he did, with a pout on his face. Katsuki shut the door and walked over. "Why do you insist on stealing my chair everytime?"
"The other ones aren't comfortable," you answered, handing him his food and opening yours to start eating. "Oh!" You perked up, "I finished the design for your watch, just need everything ordered and I'll start on it."
He took a break from his food, looking up at you, "How long?"
"Shipment should get here in two days, they just had a huge order and have a ton of left overs, so I'm using the stuff they have extras of. Wanna see the design?" You smiled, pulling up a picture on your phone when he nodded.
He looked over the notes you wrote down, zooming in on the smaller details, "looks good."
"Good!" You smiled.
His office door opened, "I forgot, we're having a little get together at Denki's place Saturday," Kirishima smiled before shutting the door again.
"No."
"Come on Kats," you begged, trying to meet his eyes.
"Nuh uh," he took a bite of his food, looking up briefly and meeting your eyes.
"Please! We haven't hung out with them in forever!" You pointed out.
"We hung out last night."
"Yeah, with Z', not with your friends."
"No."
He glared at you until he felt your hand rest on the top of his, "Please?"
"Fuckin' fine," he brushed off your hand and continued eating.
---
"This is lot more then a little get together," Katsuki grumbled right after pushing the door open. Disregarding a knock all together and walking straight in, taking a pause in his step.
You took a glance over his shoulder, since he took up the majority of the small hallway that started off the apartment, seeing the solid twenty or more people that crowded Denki's and Sero's apartment. "It's fine, it's not like we are forced to stay long," you pushed his back lightly, getting him to walk in entirely.
"Kacchan! Surprised you came!" Denki smiled once he saw Katsuki leave the hallway, you stepping out from behind him. "Thanks for dragging him here," Denki came up to you, giving you a one armed hug since his other hand was holding a beer.
"What else am I good for," you joked, "Didn't you say this was a small get together?"
"I was just trying to increase the odds of #2 pro hero coming in," he shrugged, Katsuki shooting him a glare and you a look, saying he wished he never came. "Now make yourselves at home, I gotta make sure Mina doesn't eat all the jello shots."
You watched Denki skip to the kitchen, instantly yelling at a stuffed faced Mina. Looking around the room you saw Sero sitting in a chair with two open spots next to it, turning back to Katsuki, he already knew your look, "Go, I'll get you a drink."
Sero saw you heading his way and gave you a wave. He was sitting in a recliner and had a loveseat spaced next to it. You took the loveseat and leaned on the armrest close to him, kicking your feet unto the other half of the couch to prevent someone stealing Kats spot.
"How's work?" Sero asked once you gave him your attention.
"Good, busy as always. But I've been ahead of the game lately, I think I can start branching out more on my own soon," you smiled.
"Exciting," he smiled, " I see you got the grump outside for once," he nodded to Katsuki, who was being badgered by some of Denki's sidekicks/partners.
You laughed, "Yeah, you're not the first to tell me that tonight, but I'm not surpised. He went out with me last night to Z' as well."
"Did you drug him? I won't snitch."
"No, I think his mom yelled at him or something," you pretended to expose. Hiding the truth behind Katsuki's behavior, which was likely the civilian death he had to deal with recently. "But how's your work?"
"Meh, it's hero work," he drank from his cup, "Recently had to deal with a spider villain so it was weird. It was like fighting myself if I had eight legs and eyes."
The two of you continue to talk about work or recent things between friends. Briefly discussing Kirishima and Mina's budding relationship that's been going on for years. Just before Sero could question your own relationship, Katsuki came back.
"Fuckin' nerds wouldn't leave me alone," he grumbled picking up your legs and sitting on the couch with you, handing you a drink.
"You love the attention," you bumped him with your knee, "and careful, might summon them again."
Casual conversation formed once again, banter between you and Katsuki, and annoyance from him to Sero. On the heated topic of old heroes. With Sero caring less, and just wanting to rile him up.
You smiled along with their conversation, more focus on Katsuki. He's rested into the chair despite being annoyed at the conversation. Having a hand rested on your knee and the other rested on the armrest, holding a low carb beer. Which he took a sip of every once in a while before he had to tell Sero he was wrong again. You admired every move of his, from his sharp jaw, to defined cheekbones, and his bright red eyes. Only stopping when Sero called you out.
"Stop eye fucking in front of me," Sero gagged.
"The fuck?" Katsuki question, not ever aware of what you were doing, "We're not."
"You might not be," Sero smirked.
"Oh fuck you, Sero," you rolled your eyes. Ignoring the blush you felt heating your face.
"Don't push your feelings onto me," Sero teased.
"Oh my god," you groaned, " I give up." Sero crackled as he laughed at you. "Shouldn't you be talking about your dumbass celebrity crush in America?"
"Who's that?" Katsuki questioned, willing to change the topic of conversation again.
"He has a crush on an actor, Ryan Reynolds. The one that reenacts the old anti-hero Deadpool," you informed.
"It's normal in America! Every guy loves him, even the straightest!" Sero defends.
"You do know the murders that Deadpool committed right?" Katsuki questioned, wanting to get on the topic of heroes, a topic he knew everything about.
The debate between whether Deadpool committed crimes for good or not was easily started. Giving yourself another chance to look at Katsuki. Not wanting to be caught you looked at the hand rested on your knee. Reaching out your own hand to trace over his. Soft and smooth from his sweat but rough from the work day. He let his hand lose the soft grip on your knee, letting you hold his entire hand freely. You traced over the rough pads of his fingers that you knew would turn soft again in the morning. Rubbing your thumb over his knuckles and the veins that lined the top of his hand. Remembering how a few years ago he would freak out if you tried to do this exact thing. Only this year has he started to let you hold his hand for longer than five minutes.
Yet he still wasn't perfect. Eventually he pulled his hand from your grip and wiped his hands off on his pants. It seemed like he didn't want your touch on him, it stung. You knew that was unlikely, but the thought couldn't leave your mind. you folded up. Crossing your arms slowly and turning your attention back onto Sero. Which caused his eyes to flicker between you and Katsuki, clearly reading your face. Before he could ask anything, he gave him a slight shake of your head.
Eventually Kirishima dragged Katsuki away from the conversation, wanting him as a partner for cup flipping.
"How come you aren't flirting with girls, Sero?" you asked, used to him normally parading the party rooms for someone to flirt with.
"Denki called dibs on everyone here basically," Sero shrugged. He sat up from his slouched sitting, " Now, what the fuck was that?" Sero motioned from you to where Katsuki was now playing games with Kirishima.
Play dumb.
"Whatcha mean?" you took a sip of your drink.
"Don't play that shit with me, He pulled away from you completely," he pointed out.
"I know, he always does that," you pointed out, wanting to stress that this wasn't a big deal.
"Always? You're kidding"
"Nope," you took a sip, "He's actually improved."
"You're saying it used to be worse," His jaw basically dropped.
"It's Katsuki you're talking about right now," you deadplanned, "Speaking of which, we never talked about this. He doesn't know it bugs me and he doesn't need to."
"Yes he does," Sero stressed.
"No he doesn't," you hissed, " I don't want him knowing. It's fine."
"Come on-"
"Sero, stop."
Before he could push forward someone entered your peripheral, standing in front of Katsuki's spot. Turning your head towards him you gave a guarded smile.
"This seat takin?" he somewhat slurred.
"Yeah it-"
"Kidding! I know it's not. No one has sat here for a good 10 minutes from what I've seen," The guy plopped down on the couch, giving you barely enough time to kick your feet off the couch and scoot over the crowd the armrest into order to not touch the guy. You and Sero shared a look. "So, what's a girl like you doing here alone," The guy smiled, slapping a hand down on your thigh to gain your attention back from Sero.
"I'm not alone?" you peeled his hand from your thigh, dropping it back onto his lap, "I was actually just talk to my friend here abo-"
He put his hand back on your thigh, "I was asking why you had no boyfriend here, you're so pretty."
"I do have one-" you tried to cut in.
"I'll be your boyfriend, names Mason," he smiled weirdly.
Once again, you peeled his hand off your leg, "No thanks."
"Is it cause the name? I'm from America, I'm not lying about my name to sound cool," he hurried out, replacing his hand on your thigh.
"Trust me, I know you're not trying to sound cool," you spoke out disgust, "Now could you please not?" Sero and you shared another look, his asking if he should step in, but you shook your head. You could handle this just fine.
He pondered for a moment, "It's cause you don't know me right? Well, I'm from America. Here to learn about the Japanese heroes-"
"Dude," you cut him off, "I could give less of a fuck, please leave me alone."
"Don't play hard to get," he grabbed onto your leg harder.
Just before Sero jumped in-
"I leave for five fucking minutes," Katsuki spits out.
The guy looked over the back of the couch, "Sorry, did you plan to make a move? I swung first sorry dude, better luck next time."
"No, I fuckin' plan to swing first on the dude that's holding onto my fuckin' girlfriend."
You took the opportunity of the guy being distracted to get his hands off you, and to leave the couch.
"Hey, babe don't leave yet, the guys just being an ass, he'll leave soon," the creep called out to you.
Everyone's attention was on the guy now. Staring at him baffled that he called #2 pro hero an ass right in front of him and his girlfriend. You stepped closer to Sero, prepared for what was about to happen.
"That's it," Katsuki grabbed the hair on the back of the guys head and yanked him down. Couch flipping over with the guy. A quick stomp on the dude stomach had him rolling over in enough pain.
"My couch!" Denki yelped.
"Fuck your couch and fuck your party," Katsuki walked up to you, grabbed your hand and pulled you to leave.
"Gimme a second, I want to say bye," you tugged on his hold when he got to the hallway that lead to the front entrance.
He looked at you baffled, "You just got felt up, they could care less if you said bye right now."
"Kats, I'm fine. I would of handled it if you didn't."
"Fine, say bye," he waved you off, crossing his arms and guarding the exit.
You walked up to where Kirishima, Sero, and Denki were standing watching drunk Mina lecture the creep.
"Hey, I'm heading out," you spoke from behind them, getting their attention.
"That's fine girl, Imma kick his ass more for you," Mina slurred as she jumped to hug you, almost knocking you off your feet. She pulled back from the hug and held onto your shoulders, "You okay?"
"Yeah," you nodded, getting her out of your hold and pushing her into Kirishima, "Make sure she doesn't do something stupid."
"I will, I'll deal with the guy too. What he did was fucking gross," you flinched, it was rare to hear Kirishima curse.
"I bet you will," laughed off. Hugging Sero and thanking Denki for inviting you, all of them double checking if you were okay. It warmed your heart that they were heroes, it was truly the right career. So after confirming that you were fine, you walked back to Katsuki.
"Done?"
"Yep," you put your shoes back on and left the apartment together.
Once in his car, Katsuki turned to you. "You sure you're okay? I'll go put the guy in fucking jail."
You laughed, "I'm fine, Kirishima has it handled."
"You sure?"
"It's not the worst thing a guy has said to me," you shrugged, "Can we get some fast food?"
"The fuck else has a guy said to you?"
"Nothing important Kats, can we drop it? I'm fine."
He eyed you warily, trying to find the correct way to go about this. He sighed and gave in, "What fast food?"
"I don't know, I want a shake."
---
The two of you got the food and cozied on your couch, digging in once you had a random Netflix movie playing. With half of your attention on the movie, and half on the situation, you decided to bring it up. "Is it weird that what the guy did doesn't bug me much?"
Katsuki glance your way, "No? Everyone has different reactions to everything."
"The main thing that bugs me is that people can't tell we are dating, like ever," you said honestly. "Like the dude didn't buy I had a boyfriend in general."
He hummed in reply.
"Our own friends forget half the time, like I wish they knew we were together, and took my word for it," you sighed.
"I know how you feel," Katsuki looked down at his hands, that held his half eaten burger.
"Even you feel that way?" you grabbed a couple fries to eat.
He looked at you, "The other night with that Nana girl, just wished it was more obvious."
"We can't blame them though, it's not like we act like a traditional couple," you shrugged and took a sip of your shake.
"Sorry," shame filled his voice.
You turned to him with you're full attention, "Why are you sorry? You haven't done anything?
"That's the issue," he crossed his arms," I don't do anything, I fucking brush you off me," he dropped his arms again. resting them on his knees and putting his face in his hands.
"Hey," you reached for his shoulder. Stopping when he flinched away from you, "Sorry," you mumbled. Forgetting he hates being sneaked up on or touched when he isn't paying attention.
"This is exactly what I'm talking about, I don't do anything but pull away from you. And you're honestly telling me you're fucking happy in this relationship?" Katsuki looked at you. Getting up to pace when you just stared at him, confused by his outburst.
"Are you not?" you asked, watching him pace the room.
He paused, "Why wouldn't I be? You give me everything I need. I don't even fucking acknowledge your primary love language while you hit every goal of mine."
"Kats, what I said to the girls the other night is the truth, I'm okay with it. The things you need are just as important, and if that's to not touch, that's fine."
"Fucking bullshit-"
"Katsuki," you said his name sharply, "I mean it."
"I don't know how-"
"That doesn't matter, you're worried I'm unhappy and I'm telling you that I am happy. Because I am, now can we please not get into this right now? Tonight already hasn't gone well."
"Fuck, you're right, I'm sorry," he rubbed his hands over his face and went back to his spot of the couch. leaving his food half touched. He opened his arms, "You can lay on me if you want."
"Katsuki, I told you, no physical touch is-"
"That's not what I'm getting at, c'mere," he motioned towards himself. And who were you to refuse, quickly curling up into his side and watching a movie to wash the bad day off you're mind.
-Next Part-
In them m.list of this fic comment if you want to be added into a tag list <3
I'll no longer add people to the taglist if they haven't commented there. It's too much to keep up with all the new part. Hope you understand <3
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peppertoastuniverse · 6 months ago
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pep reads: gojo satoru – long fics (pt.1)
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Part 2
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚
☆ the way you love me by @peachsayshi [AO3/tumblr] [status: ongoing ◦ 29/? chapters] [smut!] [fwb!gojo] #pep's first fic she was OBSESSED with #real good good smut WITH FEELINGS
“We can stop anytime. If either one of us feels like... this ...might be too much. We stop, no questions .” “We can stop anytime,” Gojo repeated “... and nothing changes between us .” You swallowed hard at his last statement. You may not be able to read his eyes but you could hear it in his voice that he needed reassurance. “No matter what happens, we’ll still be friends...” you replied softly, “now kiss me before I change my mind.”
☆ you and me by tomodachi [AO3: ] [status: completed ◦ 5/5 chapters] [tear jerker] [eventual smut!] #pep cried #gojo just kinda loves you real hard
“Prisoners say the most comical things when their judgment comes,” you tilt your head, lifting a finger before him, “Who are you?"
--- History is written by the winners, Satoru knew this well. It was only when he lost and got sealed inside the Prison Realm he learned how to be weak and find out a long buried truth.
☆ ito by @peekamatcha [AO3] [status: ongoing ◦ 48/? chapters] [super slow burn] [shinto elements] #pep DIES with every update #the TWIST in that one chapter omg
You, a former sorcerer now working as a university lecturer, were hoping to maintain your distance with the sorcerer world for an eternity to come. However, with the reappearance of an upperclassmen from a decade ago, you are forced to go on a journey which you would rather sit out of. But somebody must save humanity from the impending apocalypse and apparently the job falls on the shoulders of you two.
It would have been alright had he not been everything you didn’t want to be reminded of. And the sacrifices to be made may be more than what had been bargained for. ☆moonlight by @septembersummer [AO3/tumblr:] [status: completed ◦ 10/10 chapters] [smut!] #pep loves this AU #pep SCREAMED
Gojo Satoru is dying. And no, it's not his fault this time.
The curse which is withering Satoru into an early grave is actually the product of his great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather, who had a couple of sons that refused to procreate. And what does a proud, powerful man do when his sons refuse to fuck, and there won't be another heir to the clan?
He curses his own bloodline, of course.
It's only natural that he forces them through some twisted form of sorcery to become uncontrollably, violently attracted to the person they're most genetically compatible with.
It's even better that the curse creates a permanent, unbreakable bond between the two unwilling lovers. That's right, it usually takes more than one fuck to make a baby-- so, why not force them to have twelve?
Satoru wished his ancestor would be resurrected from the grave, just so that he could kill him again. That is, before Satoru inevitably dies.
He's had a good run, he thinks. Now, all he has to do is make sure you don't find out that you can fuck him back to life and try to very stupidly save him from himself.
(here's a spoiler: you do).
☆ a typical family by @literalia [AO3/tumblr] [status: completed? ◦ 32/32 chapters] [non liner narrative] [dad!gojo] #pep absolutely MELTED #slice of life #pep's gojo comfort fic
"satoru. where did you get these kids?"
or
after a six month absence, satoru shows up at your door two little kids following behind. chaos ensues.
☆ and if i cant see by hollowdonut [AO3: ] [status: unknown ◦ 26/? chapters] [slowburn] [eventual smut!] [tw: ptsd] #pep loves the reader's dynamics with gojo!
They say eyes are the window to the soul, but Gojo’s eyes are almost always hidden behind a blindfold. Even when they aren’t, you can never tell what he’s thinking.
You wonder if you should’ve taken that teaching job in Kyoto instead.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚
bonus!
☆ all hail the empress! by @chuluoyi [tumblr/AO3: ] [status: unknown ◦ 1/? chapters] [smut!] #pep loves this AU #but THE END THO? OMGGG you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...
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weltraum-vaquero · 22 days ago
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Swan song
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Professor Viktor x TA Reader
[PART 1]。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆[PART 2] ⋆。��☁︎。⋆[PART 3]
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆[AO3 link] ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。
Summary: You’re a bright phD student who won’t shy away from a challenge. Getting the most notorious professor at the University of Piltover to hire you as his assistant is one of them.
Tags: Modern AU, SFW (for now…), DILF professor Viktor, romanticizing and eroticizing borsht, lab shenanigans, reader being filled with equal parts shame and lust
Word count: 7.8k
Notice: This fic is written with a transmasculine reader in mind, but that won’t come into play at all until the final third chapter of this mini-series.
Notes: A little something something while we await season two ;] The draft for this post deleted itself twice now. If the formatting looks wonky (especially in the texting section), NO, it doesn't. Shut up.
He didn’t lie. 
Which is all the more shocking, considering you attend his 8AM lecture on the very same day, and he seems more bright and alight than you’ve ever seen him.
When did he find the time?
Though there isn’t a daunting amount to your thesis just yet, you still want to believe you’ve written something quite substantial over the past months. 
You toss one glance around yourself before you follow him into his office after his lecture, and you find the stack of papers you’d left on his desk last night looking positively devoured, in the most… academic way possible. Scribbles and notes litter the margins, the edges of the papers are already somehow lightly worn. 
He must have read it multiple times.
“Coffee?” He offers.
“Yes, please.”
As he gropes the machine in search of its switch again, he cocks his brow at you. “And what was that for?”
You frown. “What was what for?”
“That… glance, before you followed me into my office.” The switch clicks, the light comes on. “Looking around like you were being followed.”
“Oh,” caught in the embarrassing act, you shrug. “I don’t know. Being cautious, I guess. Students have been looking at me a little funny, lately.”
“Much too late for caution, I’m afraid.” 
Uh oh. 
As he retrieves two paper cups, you’re left wondering what exactly that should mean.
“Why’s that?”
“I thought you were well aware of the fact that rumors would start, um… circulating the moment I made it public that I had hired an assistant.” Coffee trickles into the cups, a soothing little melody. Viktor leans against the wall beside the machine as he watches the cups fill.  “I’ve always been adamant about not needing one. It is natural for people to have questions — and to come up with, eh, answers — when I suddenly do.”
The notion of the answers students might have come up with swirls around in your brain. 
You wish they were right.
You’re glad they’re not.
You look at Viktor.
“Do you mind it?”
The coffee stops pouring. Viktor does that thing again, spreading long fingers apart to grasp both cups. And he’s quiet — for a beat longer than he should be.
“No. There are more important things to worry about than… gossip.” He sets the cups on the table, then takes his seat. He hesitates for a brief second, craning his neck before he fixates on you, motionless. Waiting. “Do you?”
“Trying not to.”
The answer makes him… deflate, somehow. It’s barely visible, for just a fraction of a second his chest sinks, before his tone is back to his composed cadence.
“You will get used to it,” he assures. “Now, onto more interesting matters — your work.”
Thank god. You don’t know how much more of the awkward tiptoeing you could have handled.
“Yes.” Your heart leaps into your throat. Acting normal has never been so difficult. “What did you think?”
“Very impressive.” He slides the stack of papers towards you. “I have made some… suggestions here and there, should you wish to take them into consideration. But, I think you struck gold with your hypothesis. Should you need a conversation partner, guidance, anything at all — I would gladly be at your service.”
“Thank you, Viktor. I really appreciate this.”
At the sound of his own name coming from you, something in him shifts. Shifts with an unfamiliar near bashfulness, he stifles a little smile into the rim of his paper cup, the corners of his eyes crinkle, he settles into his seat a little further.
“But you never held up your end of the bargain,” you point out. That snaps him out of it.
“Ah, yes. I did not.” He continues to hide behind his cup, before he finally seems to decide to take a metaphorical leap, as he sets it down and stares down at it. “I fear the unfortunate truth may be that when it comes to research, I either work better with a partner, or that… Cecil is right and I need to slow down. Though I’d guess the former is more likely.”
“You used to work with, uh…” you’re not sure how to approach the topic, “Talis, didn’t you?”
“The five basic principles of applied arcanism are commonly referred to as Talis’ princies, you do not have to feign uncertainty to appease me.”
So you drop the attempt to tiptoe around the subject, and ask, plainly:
“Why wasn’t your name added on?”
Viktor scoffs. “Talis-Sidorov-Sviboda has a terrible ring to it. Or so he’d said. And admittedly… I was more of a conduit than the co-author of his idea. He said we would name the next big thing we would discover after me, but… well, you know how it is. I dedicated myself to teaching, he retired to lead a quiet life in his gaudy mansion with his sports cars and his purebred German shepherds after he married some businesswoman.”
Though his story does line up, those aren’t necessarily the rumors you’d heard. There’d been talk of more than just a mild dispute of names, and… well, there had been… something between Talis and Viktor. But that’s about all you know.
Under your gaze, Viktor grows suddenly uncomfortable — both with the subject and the fact that he might be able to tell you know more. He’s quick to redirect the conversation.
“As for my research: I have been studying the laminal hexoin cascade in stabilized hexgems in various matrices. And though bold, I have been attempting to figure out the ideal matrix — something that will allow for close to a hundred percent energy renewal and render all other sources of energy obsolete.”
”That is bold,” you say. Your other thought, you keep to yourself: it also sounds impossible. You suppose stabilizing hexgems 20 years ago was also something thought impossible — and yet, Viktor hadn’t shied away. If anyone is apt for the job, it is him. “Any luck so far?”
“Partially. They have been yielding favorable results, but not enough to be viable energetic alternatives as of now.” He takes his cup again, bringing it to his lips in a rushed movement, drinking a mouthful, rather than a sip. Once Viktor sets it down, his hand remains on the table, fingers tapping on the shiny surface once, twice— “I could use a theorist to assist me with a few things.”
The implication dizzies you. Is he…?
But then he slides another one of his drawers open, and retrieves a stack of papers. Slanted handwriting, barely legible — you’re by now intimately familiar with it: his cursive. It litters the pages, in different inks and in pencil, diagrams, sketches… just looking at it makes you hungry to read it.
He smiles as if he’s read your mind, again.
“I was thinking it could be you.”
You’re invited to his office for lunch break the very next day too. And though he assures you there is no pressure in having to read through his notes by then, you disregard it.
It takes you a reread to be able to make sense of all his scribbles, but… it’s brilliant. He’s brilliant. 
It should stop surprising you by now — his ideas, his drive, his curiosity, his mind — but with every single time Vikror impresses you anew, he becomes something more distant.
As you’re marveling at his intricate weaving of concepts, it strikes you, unpleasantly, that this is the same man you’d wanted to devour just days ago. The man who’s made you coffee, the man whose sharp eyes fold at the corners when he smiles. 
You’d have deified him, had he been your teacher. You still do, especially now, after you’ve seen more of what his mind is made of. The mere notion of him becomes terribly out of reach, and you’re plagued with guilt for that night. Guilt for having tainted such a man with your thoughts. 
And yet, you still can’t help but think of his neck, the soft pink of his chapped lips, the hollow of his cheeks. You wonder what his mouth tastes like, and you want to slap yourself on the wrist for it. You should have, because minutes later, you wonder about worse things too. The scent of his skin, the coarseness of his body hair, how far up under his navel it might reach.
And when you finish reading his notes a second time and bring the paper to your nose to sniff it — hoping for a trace of him — you realize you have a problem. A serious one.
It torments you for the rest of the night, through the hours you spend writing up some suggestions and ideas, all the way to when you switch off the light, and hug whatever pillow’s within reach close.
When you get the urge to tilt your hips against it, you decide to get up and splash your face with water.
And you wish you could do the same thing the very next day on your lunch break, when you’re standing in the doorway of his office and he’s eating borscht. The sweet-tangy smell of vegetables, beef and beets makes your stomach growl, but your physical hunger is long lost on your otherwise preoccupied brain.
The beet red of the soup has pigmented his lips. They look kissed raw, puffy, ripe. A lavish speck of colour on his otherwise pale face, it draws your gaze and does not let it stay somewhere more respectful.
You want to taste them.
He does it for you, raspberry pink tip of his tongue darting over the plush of his lips before he swallows and finally greets you.
“Sorry,” you say, and it comes out tense, near horrified. You’ve caught him eating soup, for chrissakes, not being bent over his table. Oh, god. Why did you have to think about that? ”I’ll come back later.”
“No,” Viktor gestures to the empty seat across from him. He screws his thermos shut, and puts it away. “Please, I’ve been waiting for you. Sit.”
And you do, like the dog you feel like you are right now.
“Did you manage to find the time to read my notes?”
Oh, did you.
“I… followed your example and made some suggestions of my own. But on separate pages. Here.”
His reaction is more than what you’d hoped for. It’s more than the impressed raise of thick brows that had kept you fueled last night, it’s more than the smile you’d been hoping for. 
“You are unbelievable,” he grins, and takes what you offer, pushing his glasses up his nose before he starts reading. You selfishly use the distraction to stare at his lips again. He mutters to himself as he reads, pink mouth molding around whispered jargon, nodding. “Yes, this… this is exactly what I’d hoped for, when I’d asked for your assistance. Your fresh set of eyes is invaluable. I hadn’t thought of approaching the modification from that angle.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
He doesn’t take his eyes off the page for even just a moment, flipping it surprisingly fast, and taking it with him as he leans back in his seat. 
And decides to torture you.
Viktor traces the pad of his own thumb over the curve of his bottom lip as he takes in your handwriting. The give of the flesh under his fingertip hypnotizes, the slight drag of rough skin on soft pink one, your mind is long gone.
You think of rough fingertips on his lips, on his chest, rough fingertips on the pasty white of his gaunt lower stomach, rough fingertips in coarse hair. Rough fingertips dipping between his milky thighs, rough fingertips on where he runs just as pink as he does on his lips, rough fingertips dipping, slipping on slick skin—
You need to stop.
And you most certainly need help.
“Is something the matter?”
It feels like you’ve swallowed your own brain whole when he speaks, because your skull rings hollow when you try to come up with a reply that isn’t incoherent babble.
“Wh— me? No. Why?”
And because embarrassment loves to stick around once it has made its presence known, the stars align for the next social disaster: your stomach growls. Loudly.
“Did you not have lunch?” Viktor asks.
“I… didn’t get around to it,” you admit.
“I won’t take up too much of your time, then,” he assures. If he knew just how much of your time he’s started taking up — and the fact that you wish you could give him what is left of it to him, too.  “I would like you to work alongside me on my research. But if you don’t feel like you can squeeze another project into your presumably busy schedule, I understand. I would be glad to have you merely as… a colleague to consult with, as well.”
Is that even a question? He’s offering you the opportunity of a lifetime. You would be an idiot not take it. 
And an even bigger idiot to turn down more time spent with him.
“You don’t even have to ask,” you joke. “Yes. I would be thrilled, Viktor.”
This is his first smile you witness when his pretty boyishness doesn’t shine through. It’s a gentle quirk of his lips, no teeth to be seen, just tenderness. It makes your heart leap to be the cause of it.
“Thank you,” he says.
“Thank you.”
Silence.
Just as you’re about to breach it — he does it first.
“Would you be free for lunch tomorrow as well?”
He watches you from below long, dark lashes as you give a breathless yes.
“I brought you something.”
It’s the last thing you expect as you step into his office at noon, upon exchanging hellos.
You’re alight. With curiosity, above all else. And with worry — why would he bring you something? What will you do to reciprocate? 
“Thank you,” you say, though you have no idea what for just yet. “What is it?”
“I saw you eyeing my borscht yesterday.” There’s a glint in his eye that suggests more, so much so you can’t decide between flirting or digging a hole for yourself in the hardwood floor of his office. 
The middle ground is standing in his office awkwardly as he unzips his backpack.
He retrieves two thermos bottles: the one you’re already familiar with, and another that looks older, more worn, and sorely lacks the sticker you’ve so come to love and fixate on and dream about. “I, eh, I made you some. In case you wouldn’t get the chance to eat before you came here.”
Your chest swells so much it hurts. 
He made you soup?
“You… Viktor, this is… thank you. You shouldn’t have.”
“I wanted to. Have a seat.”
You practically jump into the seat across the table from his — a seat you’ve come to associate as yours, in spite of being well aware of the oppisite.
As he screws the bottle open and pours some steaming soup out into a paper bowl — god, he’d brought paper bowls — his eyes flick to you.
“But if you don’t care for borscht, you don’t have to—“
“I do care.”
And that rings true not just for the borscht.
It rings true for the soup he brings you the next day too, it rings true for every word that passes his lips. And it rings true for the time you start to spend in the insane coffee shop queue to surprise him with his preferred order and a slice of cake (a different one each day, until you figure out his favorite: cinnamon coffee), it rings true for the dark blue roughed up thermos he lets you take home the day you don’t finish the soup he brings you because you’re just so busy talking.
It’s November before you know it.
As the days grow colder, it’s not rare to be finding warmth by lavishing in Viktor’s attention as you ramble on about ideas — either for his research, or your thesis. All while he intently follows your thoughts with a smile, stopping just to shave another mouth-half-full’s worth off his cake of the day with his plastic spoon.
And once he savors the last bite, Viktor almost always flips it hollow side down, sliding it down the swell of his tongue within his mouth, removing it from between puckered lips. His cheeks hollow, he holds eye contact all the same, and it’s a mental image that haunts you. A mental image you project in your mind, nestled between the apex of your thighs. The thick of his tongue. The cushiony seal of his lips, the suction of his cheeks. 
It never becomes any less distracting than the first time it happens. 
You startle when Viktor speaks as he sets down the plastic spoon into the now empty packaging. 
“I would like you to accompany me to the lab sometime soon. When would you be free?”
You’ve been before — but just a handful of times. Mainly for him to demonstrate or disprove certain guesses, or test conclusions you’d reached together. 
“I’m free right now,” you suggest.
Viktor shakes his head. “I have a lecture in an hour.”
Right. 
“I mean… I think we could make it in an hour.”
“I prefer to take my time.” Viktor leans back in his seat, stares thoughtfully at the clock on his wall for a moment. “Would seven PM work for you?”
“Uh…” you mentally go through your schedule for the day, “yes. It should. I might be a little late, though. How about… seven fifteen-ish?”
“Good.” The flow of the word is syrupy, yet his next sentence comes out surprisingly peppy with excitement: “See you then.”
Though you’re well into the final week of November, it never stops bothering you just how quickly the sun sets. By the time you get to the lab, the air’s gone cold, dry, and the darkness is heavy and thick.
Viktor waits for you just outside the university lab, under the halo of the street light — perhaps just a hint overdressed for the cold, in your opinion. It’s certainly trench coat season, though his is surprisingly long, reaching somewhere along the middle of his shins. The hand he hasn’t tucked in his pocket holds his cane and is clad in a leather glove. Around his lengthy neck, a red knitted scarf lays in chunky, impenetrable layers, reaching almost all the way to the swell of his top lip and his ears. You can hardly see his smile from underneath when he spots you — but his eyes give him away. 
“Right on time,” Viktor’s tone has just as much pep to it as a few hours ago, perhaps even moreso. He rolls his shoulders, before he subtly nuzzles further down into his scarf, shying away from the biting cold. “Let’s get inside.”
He leads the way into the building, its warmth embracing you the moment you step in. The tip of your nose and your fingertips feel like they’re beginning to thaw, tingling just a hint. As you go to take off your coat, you notice Viktor isn’t in a rush. He rests his cane against the wall before he unwraps the thick, wide scarf from around his neck, folding it. He sets it on a nearby table, shucking off his trench coat, slender shoulders under a wool sweater. You watch closely as he then takes his scarf and stuffs it into the sleeve of his coat before he hangs it up. 
There’s something stiff, painful, about how he moves. You wonder if it’s the cold.
“What?” He watches you with appeased amusement.
Caught red-handed, you jump, still halfway clad in your coat.
“Nothing,” you reply, scraping for a way to deflect from your obvious staring. “Not a big fan of the cold?”
“Never.” He says it like it’s a very serious matter. “I still don’t know how I made it through my first eighteen winters in St. Petersburg.”
“You grew up in Russia?”
He laughs through his nose like you’ve told him a half good joke. “What gave it away? The accent? The surname?”
“No, I just thought… Svoboda is a Czech surname.”
With how his smile turns knowing, self-satisfied, you’re suddenly back in his office again, uncertain and nervous and asking for a job as his assistant. He could taunt you with the knowledge that you’ve looked up his last name, embarrass you a little, play with you.
But he isn’t that man anymore — not to you. This time, he feeds your curiosity, albeit just with crumbs.
“My mother’s,” he clarifies. “Sidorov is Russian — my father’s.”
Oh.
“It’s nice that they used both their names. I’m assuming that wasn’t… common, back then, and back there.”
“It wasn’t, and they did not.” Viktor waits for you to hang up your coat, watchful gaze making your every movement feel loaded with static that’s about to snap. “I added hers when I changed my name.”
Changed his name?
The image of the sticker on his thermos turns up fresh in your mind, and you can’t help but wonder…
“Well? I was hoping we could discuss more in the lab, but if you prefer the coat hanger…”
Goddamn it. Focus. You need to focus.
“Sorry.”
You catch up, then slowly follow Viktor down the hallway, into the small lab he has been assigned. It’s one of the less grand ones, but it has all it needs — from a pretty new hexion accelerator to a humble whiteboard. It smells sanitized, sterile, ozonic.
You assume your usual seat by the whiteboard while he sets up. It still doesn’t feel… right to let him do all of that by himself, but he insists upon it, so, you stay out of his way. Viktor tidies up the space just a little, finding his goggles among the mess. He slips them onto his head, elastic pulling back his soft hair into a fluffy grey and brown mess. His cane thumps against the linoleum with every hurried step — though he doesn’t seem to be hurrying on account of you being there as much as excitement to show you.
Once he’s done, he sits in front of the accelerator, slipping his goggles on, and nods for you to come. Which you do — you’d be at his beck and call beyond just the academic context. For a moment, you pluck the inviting tilt of his head and the quirk of his lips out of their context, and you plant it atop your own bed, him in just a loose shirt, underwear, lax with freshly received pleasure. More comfortable than he’s ever been, all because of you. Beckoning for you. Come here. Smiling at you when your knee dips into the mattress, tucking his index under your chin as you crawl to him, reeling you in for a kiss.
“Come closer.”
God help you.
You comply with a wildly beating heart, stepping forward until you’re close behind his sitting form, watching the accelerator over his shoulder. 
He smells nice. Like an indistinct, aromatic cologne, covering up the natural, gentle musk of his skin. You have to resist the urge to dip your head down and trace the tip of your nose along his spine, from where the bones of his neck show to where the scruff at the back of his head goes thicker, fuller. You wonder if he’d shiver as you let the scent of him imbue you… you wonder if he’d lean into it, if he’d tilt his head for you, let you dip your face into the slope of his shoulder, where his scent’s more potent.
The mere thought of him, vivid in your nostrils and clinging to your palate and the floor of your brain, rattles you with a shiver.
“I thought I’d rather show you than tell you,” he explains, wrapping both pale, bony hands around the handles of the accelerator. Steam hisses from the exhaust, flooding the room with more ozone, and gently, but certainly, the gem starts to spin behind the glass panel, beginning to levitate out of its socket, illuminating the room. 
God, you should have put on goggles too, it’s making your eyes hurt. It’s a welcome reminder as to why you chose to spend most your days staring down a blackboard rather than the thing itself. The screen right above it is more of a familiar sight to you: numbers, reading the rotations per minute, as well as energetic output, steadily increasing. 
It whirrs, magic static whirling up around the blue orb, electricity crackles. 
You can see the appeal of this over a blackboard. But you’d still take the chalk. Especially considering the deafening noise. 
Nevermind the damn goggles. You need to remember to bring some ear plugs.
“Watch the panel.” Viktor raises his voice over the hum of the machine, and turns to you, watching you from behind foggy lenses with a smile. You wish you could see the way his crow’s feet deepen. It rumbles harder, so much so Viktor almost has to shout the next thing he says, which is a shame, because his usually playful lilt is lost in the noise of it. “Not to… spoil the outcome of this experiment for you, but I implemented the conclusions we came to last week, and, it is safe to say…”
With a well-timed click and tug on a lever, the machine disengages, and the gem drops back into its socket under the influence of gravity. Its violating light returns to a faint, blue glow, like an artificially lit aquarium; fluctuating and undulating gently in its intensity. The potential energy indicator’s numbers climb back up, steadily, but faster than what you’ve seen before. 
Much faster.
You can’t help but grin with excitement. “It’s regenerating fast.”
Viktor smirks at you over his shoulder like you’re sharing a sacred, intimate inside joke. 
“It is.“
You await the verdict with a bated breath.
“How much?”
Viktor’s smile only grows, like he’s about to give you a present. And, all things considered, this is going to be one, in months’ or maybe even years’ time.
“A thirty-seven percent recovery after usage within an hour.” Viktor spins in the lab stool to face you with the theatrical self-satisfaction of a magician who just sawed his assistant in half and is waiting for the applause. You nearly forget to step back to give him the space for it, so much so your knees knock together. But there is no chance for you to apologize, Viktor is unbothered, sliding the goggles up his forehead enthusiastically, his show of complacency ditched in favor of pure excitement. “That is more than I’ve ever achieved thus far. Thanks to y—” 
His voice sticks in his throat, turning into a pained hiss.
His hair’s tangled in his goggles.
“Oh, wonderful,” he grits out sarcastically. 
A frustrated half-sigh half-groan rumbles in his chest as he pulls again and only makes things worse.
“Could you get me a pair of scissors? I should have some in the third drawer over there.”
“Wait. At least let me try first,” you insist. Reluctantly, you step closer, and after a moment’s hesitation, Viktor lowers his head for better access like a feral animal letting itself be pet for the first time. He sits still, the sound of both your breaths suddenly loud in the tall, quiet room as you’re forced to step even closer. “Could you…”
You nudge his ankles apart with the tip of your shoe.
He listens.
After a stuttering, fragile exhale, Viktor spreads his thighs. 
You take the space offered. And you try not to think about kneeling, about making a home for yourself between his thighs.
“Do you think you can do it?”
You wish he’d asked you that about any number of things, except for the goggles tangled in his feathery, soft hair.
But yes. You think you do.
It would have been a terrible shame to cut it — though some shorter, bluntly cut hairs that sit a little further back near the top of his head tell you his suggestion was not the product of a new idea. Carefully, you pull whatever hairs are looser from between the lens and the bridge of the goggles, though a strand remains stubborn. 
You try to ignore the warmth of his breath on your shirt, the intoxicating, soapy, yet distinctively human smell of his scalp, and the mesmerizing ratio of grey to dark brown, the subtle heat on the sides of your palms and wrists, resting on his head for stability.
As you separate another few hairs from the stuck strand and accidentally tug at them, Viktor has no reaction. Beyond swallowing thickly, and sitting through it dutifully. 
You wonder if he’d act just the same, had you bunched his hair into the spaces between your fingers and tugged — simply biting his tongue and chewing through the pain — or if he’s leaned into the force, moaning with it, and god, you’ve hurt him, and you haven’t even apologized.
“Sorry.” You sound twice as genuine — mainly because you apologize for much worse than the inflicted pain. “Almost done.”
“The scissors would have been faster,” he half-jokes.
His voice sounds different. A hint more… strained. He shifts in the seat, wipes his hands on his slacks.
“Would have been a shame, though. You have pretty hair.” The last part of the sentence positively escapes you, and once you hear it, you freeze. Your brain scrambles itself trying to add something that will fix the inherent following awkwardness, the horrifying realization you just called your boss pretty, the fact that it’s true, the fact that—
Viktor flinches with another accidental tug of his hair, and so do his thighs — jumping with the surprise, clenching together until they squeeze around yours. But they’re gone just as fast, flinching away with horrified urgency. Before you get to savor the supple flesh pressing into your own in another new perverted way, before you get to imagine his ankles locking behind you, tilting and rubbing your hips into the hug of his thighs.
You need. To get. A grip.
“Sorry.”
You continue on in silence, and thank everything above he at the very least can’t see the way your hands shake, because he’s staring at the floor like he could drill a hole into it with just his eyes. 
You should have gotten the damn scissors. As if through divine intervention, the rest of his hair comes loose not soon after.
“Okay. All done.” You smooth the slightly crinkled, but now free strand back down into the rest of his soft hair. 
Viktor’s dainty features come into view from below his face framing pieces as he tilts his chin up. His lips quirk into a gentle smile, his eyes sparkle in the faint blue glow, soft shadows under the hollow of his cheeks and the swell of his lip and the tip of his nose and the bone of his brow. You wish you could immortalize him in whatever way he’d let you — a sculpture, a painting, a poem. He looks ripe for kissing, eyes half-lidded and twice as dreamy as he peers at you.
You’re going to see him like this in your mind’s eye later tonight.
Nestled between your thighs, or kissing down your stomach, molten gold under long, dark lashes, sitting atop carved marbled bone.
“Thank you.” He says it quietly — like it would break the sudden holiness of the moment to say it any other way.
He’s so warm. 
You could kiss him. See what the ozone of the room tastes like in the slick of his mouth. You wonder if he’d let you, if he’d suckle your tongue into his mouth in a show of submission, or if he’d bite your lip, licking your teeth, pressing, pushing, make you earn the privilege to taste him. 
You wonder if he’d hold you, or if his curious hands would roam, tracing the front of your stomach, or your spine, or press to the middle of your breastbone like he wants to see where you’d split open for him down the middle like a ripe peach. You wonder if he’d let you dip a hand down the front of his slacks, you wonder if he’d tilt his hips into it like he’d been aching for it, aching for you. Scorching your hand with want, materialized in slick or straining hardness. You wonder which it’d be.
From where you’re standing, the distance between the apex of his chin and the space where his slacks stretch between his thighs is small — and your gaze takes the leap, searching. But the material dips and curves in such a way that you’re left none the wiser, and with nothing but a disgusting realization.
You’re staring at your boss’ crotch.
You step back from the heat between his thighs, painfully awake, aware. It squeezes and wriggles in your chest like you have a parasite lodged in the chambers of your heart. 
You’re disgusting.
You need to put an end to this.
“You’re welcome, professor.”
With that, you’re practically bolting from between his thighs, to stash the scissors away again.
You’re neglecting your job, you’re putting it in jeopardy. Putting yourself in jeopardy, risking all the rumors circulating becoming a shameful truth, you’re risking the first man who ever kept up with you, followed you where you wanted to go and took you further — you’re risking it all because he makes you unbelievably fucking horny. 
And it’s absurd. Embarrassing. You need to get a hold of yourself. 
“I was… thinking, actually,” you begin, and want to punch yourself over how Viktor perks back up from where you’d left him. “About some things regarding my thesis that I’d like your thoughts on.”
“Oh. Of course.” You have got to be imagining the subtle disappointment in his tone. The second you let yourself believe it’s more than just a figment of your make-believe, is the second you will be doomed. 
Viktor, with all his years and experience, would and does know better than to fall for his assistant. You know he does.
“What’s on your mind?” He prompts after your prolonged silence.
If he knew the half of it.
You’re late.
And it’s a direct, shameful consequence of last night’s lusting, the time you’d spent frustratedly tossing and turning and thinking of his mouth and his eyes and his scent, before you’d given in past midnight, and humped your hand into completion.
Thinking about him under you, about pressing your face into his neck, about pressing him into the mattress and rutting into him until he gushes and his tired body sings for you and his voice cracks. Until he breaks for you, until pleasure itself oils and unscrews all the biological cogs of his body and he comes out unstrung, reborn.
Viktor’s in a wheelchair. 
And he looks worse for wear than you’ve ever encountered him before, slumping in the chair and massaging his eyelids with his thumb and index, seemingly gathering his thoughts. He’s dressed even warmer than usual, in a loose but thick, dark red sweater. There’s a colorful knitted blanket folded and set over the tops of his thighs. 
Viktor doesn’t acknowledge you when you come in and sit near the whiteboard, simply resumes his lecture as he regains his mental footing. And he goes on for a while, not sparing you a single glance, as he goes through powerpoint slides today, instead of his usual writing and hand drawn diagrams. 
He’s at it for a while, not as fast as his usual pace, but undeniably concise, certain. Until…
“The energy output increases proportionately to the spin, and, with powerful enough matrices, some hexgems can create force fields of their own. This is a particularly common phenomenon in unstabilized gems as well, though with the activation of their force field, those tend to also create… eh…”
Viktor stops, sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose. He frowns, mumbling something in another language, which, judging by the heavy consonants and squeezed vowel, you’d assume it’s Russian. The word must be slipping his mind, so you decide to help out.
“A shock wave.”
Viktor’s gaze cuts. He’s looked at you with disinterest before, sure, but this… 
He doesn’t even turn his head to look at you, just eyes you from the corner of his vision like something unworthy of acknowledgment. You wish you could swallow your words back up.
“Yes,” he says. “Thank you. A shock wave.”
You don’t say anything again for the rest of the lecture. 
Once the door falls shut behind the last few students who have left the room, Viktor turns to you. You wish you could shrink; and it feels like you do, when he finally speaks.
“I appreciate your intention to help — but do not interrupt me again. I know what I’m trying to say.” He sounds utterly unlike himself, both spent and angry. “I don’t need help. Especially not in the middle of a lecture.”
“Sorry.”
That alone softens him up a hint. He looks away, rubbing his thumbs against the wheels of his chair, before he speaks again. Calmer. 
“Just… do not let it happen again.”
As he slumps in his seat, massaging at his temples, you understand that his anger… might not have been as directed at you as you’d initially thought. He’d been snippy when his back hurt — having switched to a wheelchair must mean he’s in a lot more pain now.
And you understand his frustration. He’d just gotten himself an assistant a few months back, and started a new project — looking like he requires help in front of his students is certainly not doing his reputation right now any favors. 
“But if there’s other things I can do to make your day a little easier, I’d like to do them.”
“No, thank you.” He shakes his head, before he grabs both wheels and advances to where he’d left his bag. As he starts packing his things, he stops again, quietly groaning somewhere in the back of his throat. “Where did I put my pen…”
Viktor eventually finds it right behind his water bottle on the table, tossing the both of them into his bag, shutting it tightly. You expect him to wheel himself over to the ramp that leads to the exit, but he just hangs his head, massaging at his temples again, before he looks at you.
“Actually, I’d like it if you went to my office and got me a silver tin box in the… fourth drawer on the left side of my desk. Do you have the key with you, or should I give you mine?”
“I have it. I’ll be quick.”
“Thank you.”
And you deliver on your promise. You don’t run, but you power walk there, and you’re back with (hopefully the right) tin box in the same lecture hall before his break ends.
Viktor takes it from you gladly, popping it open. It contains two foils of painkillers, one already half empty, a small ziploc bag of… gummies, and at the very bottom, some dark chocolate. 
You must have pulled a bit of a face at the contents — particularly the gummies — because Viktor cocks a brow at you, before he faintly chuckles under his breath and pops three painkillers in one go.
After depositing the foil back in the box, he fishes out the dark chocolate bar. It looks to be the expensive kind, something Belgian — Viktor breaks off a piece, putting it in his mouth, before he holds it out to you.
“Peace offering,” he clarifies when you hesitate. 
You’d be a fool to turn him down. You take some — it’s rich, buttery, and melts on your tongue. It coats your mouth with its taste, dark and aromatic and unfortunately not as sweet as you thought Viktor preferred. He’d always favored the almost disgustingly sugary cakes.
“Didn’t think you’d like something so bitter,” you say.
“I do not. It sometimes helps with my migraines,” he tells you. “Sugar makes them worse. A very… devastating discovery to make, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
You wonder if right now is the right time to be curious — and you decide it might be.
“Do the migraines also affect your leg? Or the other way around?” 
“No.” Viktor shakes his head, popping off another piece of dark chocolate. “This,” he gestures at himself, the wheelchair, “was just a very unfortunate… overlapping.”
“Oh.” You grimace in sympathy. “Fun.”
“A punishment for it, more like.” 
What’s that supposed to mean?
“Let’s hope my migraine eases up on me throughout this lecture.” He smiles at you — and for the first time you’ve known him, he looks old doing it. Exhausted. The face of a man who’s seen enough hardship for a lifetime, but has yet to cave under it. 
You wish you could hold him. You wish you could melt it away, kiss it better, love it better. Whatever he’d let you.
You surprise both him and yourself when you lay a gentle hand on his shoulder and let your thumb rub a small circle over the wool. 
Though he flinches at the first contact, once something in his brilliant mind unfurls and settles, so does he. Through the cracks, tenderness shines under the fatigue. Viktor can be soft — in spite of everything im his body and his past that protests against it. “Thank you.”
You take your hand away sooner than you’d like — but at the ideal time to keep it from being anything more than a friendly touch.
“I’m glad I could help,” you say.
Viktor isn’t there at all next week. 
You come in on Monday to find his office empty during lunch break, and when you attend his lecture, it’s another professor from his department teaching it. The students don’t seem all too excited about the change either — and you leave before it even starts.
Heimerdinger is none the wiser about Viktor’s situation when you talk to him — in spite of their shared history. He simply tells you he’d taken the week off and had arranged for substitutes.
You consider messaging him… and ultimately end up doing so, after some internal debate. You simply text him to get well soon and that you hope he’s getting some well-deserved rest. He replies with just a plain thank you.
Tuesday is quiet. You receive a stack of midterms you need to get through from the substitute, and you do, by Thursday morning. Which is when Heimerdinger messages you.
Dr. Prof. Cecil B Heimerdinger
Good morning! I’m well aware this is on very short notice — but the substitute professor has unfortunately suffered a minor car accident. Not to worry; they only sustained small njury. However, I am finding myself forced to task you with Viktor’s lectures today. Do you think you could take care of that? Thank you.
-Cecil B. Heimerdinger
9:32
Just the thing you needed — teaching two full lectures, entirely unprepared.
Alright. You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You just need to find out what’s even on the agenda for today. You could text Viktor, right? If he answers on time, that is… he’s sick, he might as well be asleep right now. You could call, but… he said only to do that in the case of an emergency when he gave you his phone number. 
Would this count as an emergency?
Your phone beeps.
Dr. Prof. Viktor Sidorov-Svoboda
There should be a black flash drive in the third drawer on the left in my desk. It has all my lectures.
9:34
Today’s topic is LHC segments naturally occurring in unstabilized gems. Feel free to use my work laptop to familiarize yourself with the presentation before the lecture.
9:35
Me
Thank you so much! 
9:35
His answer comes a few minutes later, just as you fish the flash drive out of his drawer, and plug it into his laptop.
Dr. Prof. Viktor Sidorov-Svoboda
Good luck 👍 
9:42
It would be a lot easier to get caught up in the desire to snoop around on his laptop if you didn’t have less than 20 minutes left until the lecture. His background is disappointingly the default image, but some of his folders look undeniably tempting — not just the scientific ones, which take up most of the space. There’s some photo albums titled with the year and location: Germany 2011, Czech Republic 2009, among many others. There’s also a photo album titled Persichka. 
Who is that? 
You almost click it. But then you check your watch again and realize you only have 15 more minutes until the lecture, and decide against it.
For how utterly unprepared you are, it goes surprisingly well. You stumble, once or twice, but you’re glad to see that even by the end of the lecture, you still have most students’ attention.
After you dismiss the class, you don’t expect questions. But a good handful of them, a little under ten, approach your desk, whispering among themselves, before a hastily appointed representative emerges. 
“We were just wondering,” she awkwardly begins, “if professor Sidorov-Svoboda is alright. And when he’s coming back.”
“Oh.” You hope they’re asking because they understandably prefer him, and not because you did a particularly shabby job. “He texted me just today — he’s doing alright. But I can’t give you an exact estimate for when he’s coming back just yet.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
With that, all of them turn to go. After the last student has left the room, you reach for your phone, and pray you don’t see any other day-altering messages today. 
Dr. Prof. Viktor Sidorov-Svoboda
I did not mean for you to have to do this. 
10:11
You unlock your phone and jump straight into the chat.
Me
Don’t worry, it’s alright. I handled it :)
12:02
Dr. Prof. Viktor Sidorov-Svoboda
I knew you could.
12:02
Thank you.
12:02
Me
Focus on resting up and getting well soon! 
12:03
Dr. Prof. Viktor Sidorov-Svoboda
I have been. I actually feel well enough for company now. Coincidentally, I’ve gotten some ideas for your thesis and I would like it if we discussed them sometime. Would you be free this weekend?
12:05 
He wants to meet? Outside of the university? Undoubtedly for academic purposes still, but your heart squeezes and bounces and pops with the implications. 
No. You shouldn’t let yourself hope for more than just a few formal, at best friendly hours spent together.
Viktor doesn’t want you. He would never want you — he knows better. You know better.
Me
I’d like that! Saturday works for me. Where would you like to meet?
12:05
Dr. Prof. Viktor Sidorov-Svoboda
If you’d prefer somewhere on academy grounds like my office or the coffee shop, either would be fine.
12:06
My apartment is also an option.
12:06
The choice is obvious.
251 notes · View notes
stylesispunk · 3 months ago
Text
"I'll never leave, Never mind"
not outbreak! Joel Miller x f!reader
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Summary: You and Joel met at the hospital that may have sealed your fate.
wc: 16,3k. Longest one I've ever written.
warnings: extreme angst, grieving, death,No proofreading.
a/n: There is no new chapter of 'Silent Strain' tonight, but here is a new one shoot. This is a sad sad and rushed one and it was heavily inspired on 'we live in time' cuz florence and andrew content made me think on it a lot. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. 💌
dividers by @/saradika-graphics
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Joel and you could have said that fate has its way to interlock threads among people.
Some people met through friends at a party.
Others had their long way from kids, from friends to lovers and getting married.
And others met by coincidence,
When both of them ended up with a broken arm and broken fingers in a hospital.
One breaking up with his lifetime girlfriend.
The other foolish being cheated on.
Joel was leaning back in the chair, his arm in a sling, his expression was pure irritation and pain. Across from him, you sat cradling your bandaged fingers, the sting of adrenaline still fresh from your impulsive decision. The silence felt strange and weird, after all everything was a dream engulfed in fire.
You glanced at the man in front of you, studying his profile, he way his brow furrowed slightly, the tension in his jaw. He caught your gaze and raised an eyebrow in question. Finally, unable to take the silence any longer, you blurted out, "What happened to your arm?"
Joel’s eyes flickered to his sling, a small, almost amused smirk playing at his lips. "A bar fight," he replied, his voice low and gravelly. "Didn't go quite like I planned."
"Sounds like it wasn't your night," you replied, trying to suppress a grin.
He chuckled softly. "You could say that." Then, nodding at your bandaged hand, he added, "What about you? Those fingers look pretty messed up."
You hesitated for a moment, debating whether to tell the truth. "Punched my ex," you admitted finally. "Turns out, hitting someone with rings on isn't the smartest move."
Joel's grin widened, and for a moment, the tension between you both dissipated. "What about?," he asked, leaning back in his chair.
"cheating" You said, with a lazy smaile.
You both gaze at each other, still unaware that the woman your ex had cheated with was Joel's ex-girlfriend. Fate, or maybe the universe, had twisted your lives into a messy knot, and the hospital room was just the start of what would prove to be an unexpected connection between two strangers meeting at a hospital for the first time.
"How can people do that to you?." His gaze grew distant, him not saying the truth behind the statement and you wondered what ghosts were lingering in his past. The thought that you might be more connected than you realized hadn’t crossed your mind yet, but somehow, it felt like this conversation was meant to happen.
"So, what happened?" you asked, a little softer this time. "With the bar fight, I mean."
Joel shifted his gaze back to you, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a lopsided smile. "You wouldn’t believe me if I told you," he replied. There was a hint of challenge in his tone, as if daring you to ask more.
"Try me," you shot back, leaning forward slightly.
He chuckled, more to himself than to you. "Alright, then. I walked into a bar to clear my head. Turns out, my ex was there, drinking with some guy who looked like he thought he owned the place. Words were said, and, well… my fist got to know his face better than I planned." He winced, probably at the memory or the pain radiating from his arm.
"Your ex?" you echoed, a strange feeling creeping up your spine.
"Yeah," Joel said, nodding. "She was the reason I needed a drink in the first place. She cheated and we broke up, but seeing her with him… didn’t exactly help. And before you ask, no, I don’t know why I still care." There was a bitter edge to his words, one that made you think of your own ex and the anger still simmering in your chest.
You were about to respond, maybe tell him that you understood too well, when the door to the waiting room opened, and a nurse stepped in. She glanced between the two of you, holding a clipboard. “Mr. Miller?” she called, and Joel raised his good hand.
"That’s me," he said, pushing himself to his feet with a grimace. The nurse gestured for him to follow, but before he could move, he looked back at you, a strange expression crossing his face.
“Maybe when I’m back, we can still have this conversation” he suggested, a hint of a grin returning.
You nodded, feeling a pull toward him that was hard to ignore. "I’d like that," you replied, watching as he disappeared down the hallway.
You had just turned to leave when you heard Joel’s voice behind you.
"Hey," he called out, a little hesitantly. You stopped in your tracks and turned back to face him.
Joel rubbed the back of his neck, clearly not the type to do this often. "I was just thinkin’... I don’t really wanna leave things like this. Mind if I get your number?"
For a second, you were caught off guard. Joel, tough and reserved, asking for your number? It felt like one of those moments where the universe gave you a choice a small step toward something unknown but maybe worth exploring.
You smiled, this time a bit more genuine, and nodded. "Yeah, sure."
Pulling out your phone, you exchanged numbers, the simple act suddenly feeling like a big deal, like some invisible line had been crossed.
"Thanks," he said quietly, his eyes meeting yours again, and for a moment, there was that same unspoken connection between you.
"Guess I’ll see you around," you said, slipping your phone back into your pocket.
Joel gave you a small, almost shy smile. "Yeah. I’d like that."
With one last glance, you turned and walked away, feeling a little lighter than before. And even though you had no idea what would come next, there was something about the way Joel had stopped you that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something new.
A new friendship,
A new story,
A new romance.
You didn't know, but there was a good feeling about those big brown eyes of Joel when he looked at you.
Joel had met a girl who made him feel at ease, like being bathed by the warm sun of a chilly autumn afternoom.
And you, you had met a man who made you believe not everyone wanted to hurt you.
Something like golden in color, something like dawn being seen from the beach.
Pure, fearless and sweet.
Later that night, as you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the events of the day kept replaying in your mind. Meeting Joel, the strange connection, the shocking revelation about his ex—it was all too much to process. You turned over, trying to let sleep take over, but your mind wouldn’t settle.
Just as you were about to close your eyes, your phone buzzed on the nightstand. You blinked in the darkness, surprised anyone would be texting this late. Grabbing your phone, you saw Joel’s name light up on the screen. Your heart did a small, unexpected flip as you opened the message.
Joel: Hope I didn’t wake you. Just wanted to say… It was really nice to meet you.
You stared at the message, feeling a warmth spread through you. It wasn’t a grand declaration, just a simple, honest text. And yet, something about it made you smile in the quiet of your room.
You hesitated for a moment, then typed back:
You: No, you didn’t wake me. I’m glad we met too. Today was...nice after all.
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That's how it started between the both of you.
It was coincidental.
It was legendary.
Three months after talking, two months after running after each other and hanging out.
Joel finally asked you out on a date.
Joel stood in the doorway, scanning your coffee shop before his eyes found you behind the counter. For a split second, the same look of surprise crossed his face as it had the day you first met, like he hadn’t fully expected to see you here. But then his expression softened, and he gave you a small nod as he walked toward the counter.
"A cup of coffee, Miller?" you asked with a grin, trying to hide the flutter of nerves that came with seeing him.
Joel scratched the back of his neck, looking a little uncomfortable, but there was something different in his posture today, like he had something in the back of his mind . "Actually… I was hoping..." he beganhis voice low and a bit hesitant.
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. 'What?"
He took a breath, looking almost shy for a man like him, and you could see him working up the courage. "I was wonderin’ if you’d want to go out sometime. Maybe grab a drink or dinner." His eyes locked onto yours, and despite the casual tone, there was a weight behind his words, like he’d been thinking about this since the last time you saw each other.
Your heart skipped a beat, and you found yourself momentarily speechless. The idea of Joel, this tough, guarded man, asking you out felt both surprising and strangely right at the same time.
"You want to take me out?" you asked, making sure you hadn’t misheard.
Joel gave a small, almost sheepish smile. "Yeah, I do. I mean, if you’re up for it. Something fancier, just… somewhere that isn't your coffee hop or a hospital hallway."
You couldn’t help but smile at that. His awkwardness was endearing, and there was something in his eyes that made it clear he wasn’t playing games—this wasn’t just about grabbing a drink. It felt like he was genuinely interested in getting to know you.
"Sure," you said, your voice soft but certain. "I’d like that."
Joel’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and he smiled, a real one this time. "Alright, then. How about tomorrow night? I know a good place."
"Tomorrow sounds great," you replied, trying to ignore the excited flutter in your chest. "Just let me know where."
"I will," Joel nodded, and for a moment, he just stood there, the air between you charged with something unspoken.
As he turned to leave, he paused at the door, glancing back at you with that same small, shy smile. "I’ll see you tomorrow."
You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you as you watched him walk out of the shop. Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.
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The next evening, you stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down the fabric of your red dress. It was simple, elegant, and just a little daring, something you hadn’t worn in a while. There was a nervous excitement bubbling inside you as you got ready. It wasn’t often you went on dates, and certainly not with someone like Joel.
As you approached the restaurant, your heart raced a little faster. The soft glow of the lights spilling out onto the sidewalk set a warm and inviting tone, but it was the thought of seeing Joel that had your nerves on edge.
When you stepped inside, scanning the room, you saw him right away. Joel was seated near the window, dressed in a dark button-up shirt that suited him well, though it still carried that ruggedness you’d come to associate with him. His head was down, focused on the menu in front of him, unaware that you had arrived.
But then, as if sensing your presence, he looked up—and his reaction was instant. His eyes widened, and his mouth parted slightly in disbelief. Joel sat there, frozen for a moment, his eyes taking in the sight of you in the red dress. He hadn’t expected this. The sight of you knocked the air right out of his lungs.
You caught the way his mouth hung open just a bit, the look of awe in his eyes. It was as if, for a second, he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. You smiled shyly, stepping toward him, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks under his gaze.
Joel stood up quickly, almost knocking the chair back in his haste. "Wow," he breathed, barely managing to find the words. "You… you look incredible." His voice was low, almost reverent, like he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you.
"Thanks," you replied, feeling a little bashful under his gaze but also enjoying how flustered he seemed. "You don’t look too bad yourself."
Joel chuckled, but his eyes remained on you, still taking in the way the dress hugged your figure, the way the soft light from the restaurant made you glow. For a man who was usually so composed and reserved, he was completely undone by you tonight.
As you reached the table, Joel moved to pull out your chair, a little clumsily, but his gesture was sweet. "Here, let me," he offered, still looking at you like you’d just walked out of a dream.
"Thanks," you murmured as you sat down, glancing up at him with a smile. He was still standing, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he finally sat across from you.
For a few moments, Joel was quiet, his usual gruffness replaced by something softer, almost tender. He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head slightly as if trying to process what he was feeling. "I wasn’t expectin’ this," he admitted, his voice a little rough. "You look… I don’t even have the words."
You laughed softly, feeling the tension ease between you. "I’m glad I could surprise you."
Joel leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, his eyes never leaving yours. "You did. And I’m real glad you’re here."
As the evening unfolded, the conversation flowed easily, and despite the initial nerves, you both found a rhythm. Joel’s lingering stares, his quiet admiration, the way his eyes softened every time you smiled—everything felt charged with an undeniable connection. There was something between you, something unspoken but very real.
And as the night went on, you couldn’t help but wonder if the universe really did have its own funny way of pulling people together.
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It felt like a movie. Waking up next to Joel felt like living inside a dream you never wanted to end. Each morning, as the sunlight spilled through the curtains, the reality of it all washed over you, how something that started so unexpectedly had grown into this, something solid, something that felt like home. It felt like a movie, the kind where everything was beautifully imperfect, but just right in all the ways that mattered.
You turned in bed, watching him sleep, his chest rising and falling steadily. There was a calmness in his face, a softness that most people never got to see. His hair was a little messier, a few strands falling into his eyes, and you reached out gently, brushing them aside. He stirred, his eyes fluttering open, and when he saw you, a sleepy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“Morning,” he mumbled, his voice rough from sleep.
“Morning,” you whispered back, smiling as you traced a finger along his arm. "Feels like we’re in one of those romantic comedies, doesn’t it?"
Joel chuckled softly, his deep laugh rumbling through his chest. "Except I’m no prince, and you didn’t have to kiss a frog to get me."
You rolled your eyes playfully, but the truth was, every day with Joel felt like something special, like fate had somehow woven your lives together in the most unexpected way. You thought back to that first day in the hospital when you’d both been broken in different ways, and now, here you were, piecing each other back together.
"You say that like you’re not the most decent guy I’ve ever met," you teased, settling back into his arms.
Joel tightened his hold around you, his fingers brushing through your hair. "You give me too much credit."
"I don’t think I give you enough," you replied softly, your voice laced with sincerity.
He didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared at you with those deep, soulful eyes, the kind that always made you feel seen, really seen. Joel was never one for flowery words, but his actions spoke volumes—the way he looked after you, the way he showed up for you, every single day, even when he didn’t need to.
"Can’t believe it’s been a year," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Me neither," you admitted. "Happy anniversary" you said, kissing all of his face.
Joel smiled as your lips brushed across his face, his eyes closing briefly as he soaked in the tenderness of the moment. "Happy anniversary," he murmured, his voice low and warm, as if the words held more weight than he could fully express. His hands slid up to cradle your face, pulling you closer as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.
“You’ve made this past year somethin’ I never thought I’d have again,” Joel whispered against your skin, his voice thick with emotion. His thumb traced the line of your jaw, the small, intimate gesture sending warmth through you. “Never thought I’d feel this way.”
You smiled, your heart swelling at his words. "You deserve it, Joel. We both do." You kissed the tip of his nose, then his cheek, trailing kisses along his stubbled jawline. "I’m lucky to wake up next to you every day."
He let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as though he couldn’t quite believe it himself. "Feels like I’m the lucky one.
You laughed softly, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him closer. "I guess we’re both lucky, then."
Joel gazed at you, his eyes soft, filled with an emotion that words couldn’t quite capture. "Don’t know what I’d do without you," he whispered, his voice just a little rough around the edges.
"Good thing you don’t have to find out," you teased, leaning in for another kiss, this one lingering, as if the moment itself held a promise. The world outside the bedroom didn’t matter, not right now. All that mattered was this, the quiet love that had grown between you both over the past year.
The kind of love that, even in its simplicity, felt like the most beautiful thing in the world.
Later that morning, you and Joel stood side by side in the kitchen, working in comfortable silence as you prepared breakfast together. The smell of coffee filled the air, and the sound of sizzling bacon accompanied the quiet hum of morning. Both of you had decided to take the day off—no work, no interruptions—just a day to be together and celebrate your anniversary.
As you stirred the eggs, Joel suddenly cleared his throat, drawing your attention. You glanced over to see him watching you with that familiar, warm smile that always made your heart skip a beat.
"You know," he began, his voice soft, "I’ve been thinkin’ about somethin’." He flipped the bacon, pausing for a moment, almost like he was searching for the right words. "I know some people think we’re movin’ fast—bein’ together the way we are after only a year."
You set the spatula down, turning to face him fully. You’d heard the comments before—friends and family making subtle remarks about how quickly things had progressed between you and Joel. But none of that had ever mattered to you. It felt right.
"And… what do you think?" you asked gently, curious where his thoughts were leading.
Joel looked at you, his expression serious for a moment, before it softened into something deep, something real. "I think it’s the happiest I’ve ever been," he admitted, his voice steady. "And I don’t care if people think we’re movin’ too fast. Everything just feels right with you." He set the pan aside and stepped closer to you, reaching out to gently cup your face.
Your breath caught in your throat, the weight of his words hitting you in the best way possible. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he looked at you like you were his whole world. And in that moment, you realized just how much you meant to him.
"I’ve got a surprise for you," Joel added, his voice a little softer, and there was a glint of nervousness in his eyes—something you didn’t see from him often.
"A surprise?" you repeated, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "What kind of surprise?"
He took your hand, leading you away from the stove and into the living room. His grip was firm, yet there was a tenderness to the way he held you, like he was holding something precious.
Joel stopped in front of the couch, turning to face you. He reached into his back pocket and, for a moment, your heart skipped a beat. Slowly, he pulled out a small box, and as he held it in his hand, you realized exactly what was happening.
Your eyes widened, and you brought a hand to your mouth as Joel got down on one knee, looking up at you with that same earnest, loving expression.
"I know it’s been a year, and I know some people might think this is crazy," he began, his voice steady, though you could hear the emotion in it. "But I don’t care about any of that. I’ve never been surer of anything in my life." He opened the box, revealing a simple but beautiful ring. "You make me feel like I’m home, every day. So, I’m askin’… will you marry me?"
Your heart nearly stopped as you stood there, mouth agape, staring at Joel kneeling in front of you with that ring in his hand. The weight of the moment washed over you, and before you could think, your body moved on instinct. You dropped to your knees in front of him, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace.
Joel immediately responded, his strong arms coming around you, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. The words "Yes, yes," tumbled from your lips, breathless and full of emotion. Without even realizing it, you shifted, wrapping your legs around his waist as he held you securely.
His laugh was soft and filled with pure joy as he stood up, lifting you effortlessly with him. He held you tightly, your legs still wrapped around his waist as you clung to him. "You really mean that?" he asked, his voice a little shaky, but his eyes shone with happiness.
You nodded, burying your face in the crook of his neck, your voice catching as you whispered, "I’ve never been surer of anything in my life."
Joel’s arms tightened around you, his chest rumbling with laughter and relief all at once. "You’ve made me the happiest man alive," he said, his voice deep and full of love.
You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. You smiled; your heart full to the brim. "I guess we both found home."
Joel pressed his forehead against yours, his voice barely above a whisper as he said, "I guess we did."
With your legs still wrapped around his waist, Joel gently lowered you to the ground, holding you steady as you found your footing. His eyes never left yours, full of warmth and something even deeper that made your heart swell. He reached for the ring, holding it up with a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Now," he said, his voice barely a whisper, filled with emotion, "let me do this the right way."
He carefully took your hand in his, and you watched in awe as he slid the ring onto your finger. It felt cool at first, but as it settled into place, it felt like it belonged there—like it had always been meant to be.
You couldn’t take your eyes off the ring, sparkling in the morning light. It was simple, yet beautiful—perfect, just like the moment.
Joel’s fingers brushed yours as he held your hand, pulling you close again. "Looks just right," he murmured, his voice low and full of affection. His thumb softly traced over the ring, and then over your knuckles, like he was making sure it was real, like this wasn’t just a dream.
You looked up at him, tears brimming in your eyes, but they were happy tears, filled with the overwhelming joy of knowing you had found your forever with this man. "It’s perfect," you whispered, squeezing his hand.
Joel smiled, pulling you into his arms again, his lips brushing the top of your head as he murmured, "You’re perfect."
For a long moment, the two of you stood there, wrapped in each other, savoring the silence and the weight of what had just happened. It was more than just a proposal—it was a promise, one that you both knew you would keep, no matter what life threw at you.
A month had passed since the day Joel put that ring on your finger, and it felt like you were living in a dream. Every moment with him was like writing your own love story—filled with warmth, laughter, and the kind of happiness you never thought you’d find. You and Joel had started to create a life together, and it felt like the world had finally aligned in the best way.
That night, as the moonlight spilled through the curtains, Joel was already in bed, the soft glow of a lamp casting a warm light on him as he flicked through a book. You were in the bathroom, hands trembling slightly as you looked down at the test in your hand. The two lines were unmistakable. Your heart raced, a mixture of excitement, nerves, and disbelief filling your chest.
"Joel?" you called out from the bathroom, your voice a little shaky.
"Yeah, darlin'?" His voice was calm, unaware of the life-altering news you were about to share.
"I… I have to show you something," you managed to say, your nerves bubbling into a quiet, breathy laugh.
There was a brief pause before you heard the rustle of sheets and Joel's footsteps making their way toward the bathroom. The door creaked open, and Joel appeared in the doorway, his brows furrowed in curiosity. "What is it?" he asked, his deep voice laced with concern as his eyes searched your face.
You turned toward him, holding the pregnancy test in your hand, your heart pounding. With a nervous laugh, you held it out for him to see. "I... I'm pregnant, Joel."
His eyes flicked down to the test, and for a moment, it seemed like time stood still. The realization hit him slowly, his expression shifting from confusion to disbelief, and then to something far deeper. His mouth opened slightly, his breath catching in his throat as he processed the news.
"You're... pregnant?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nodded, biting your lip, unsure of how he’d react. "I know it's a lot. I didn’t even expect it, but—"
Before you could finish, Joel stepped forward, pulling you into his arms, holding you tightly against him. His face buried into the crook of your neck, and you felt the warmth of his breath against your skin as he whispered, "Are you serious?"
Tears welled up in your eyes, and you nodded against his shoulder. "Yeah. I’m serious."
Joel pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his hands cupping your face.
Joel lifted you effortlessly into his arms, his laughter mixing with yours as the weight of the news settled in—a shared joy that filled the room. His eyes sparkled with happiness, and the grin on his face was infectious. He held you close, your legs wrapped around his waist as he spun you in a small circle, both of you laughing like kids.
"I can’t believe it," Joel said, his voice filled with awe as he gently set you down on the bathroom counter, still holding you close. "We're gonna have a baby."
You nodded, the happiness bubbling up inside you, barely able to contain it. "We are," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "We're gonna be parents."
Joel kissed your forehead softly, his hands gently rubbing your sides. "I love you," he whispered, the words filled with a depth of emotion that made your heart swell. "You and this baby—we're gonna have the perfect story”
Tears slipped down your cheeks, but they were happy tears, and you smiled up at him. "I love you too," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "We’re going to be a family."
He held you there for a moment longer, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. Then, with a soft chuckle, Joel stepped back, still keeping a hand on your waist. "Guess we better start gettin’ used to this idea. A baby, huh?"
You nodded, your eyes shining with excitement. "A baby."
Joel smiled, still shaking his head in disbelief as he looked down at you. “A baby,” he repeated, his voice soft with awe. "I can’t believe it."
He rubbed his hand over his face, trying to wrap his mind around the idea of becoming a father again. The joy in his eyes was unmistakable. After all the hardships, after all the loss, this was something he didn’t think he’d ever have again—a chance at building a family, a future.
“Guess we’re gonna have to start gettin' the place ready, huh?” Joel said, a playful tone creeping into his voice. "Crib, baby clothes… We’re in for a lot of changes."
You laughed, wiping away the last of your tears. "Yeah, we have a lot to prepare for."
Joel grinned, stepping back and taking your hand as he led you out of the bathroom. "But I’m ready for all of it," he said, squeezing your hand gently. "Every single part of it."
As the two of you stepped into the bedroom, the quiet warmth of the moment settled over you. Joel sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling you into his lap. His hands rested on your stomach, fingers gently tracing over where your baby would grow.
"Just think," he murmured, his voice low and full of wonder. "In a few months, there’ll be a little one right here. A part of you and me."
The thought of it made your heart swell with love and anticipation. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. "I can’t wait, Joel," you whispered. "It’s going to be everything."
For a while, the two of you just sat there, holding each other in the quiet of the night, the future ahead of you bright and full of promise. It was a life neither of you had ever expected to find—but it was yours now, and you would cherish it, together.
Joel kissed the top of your head, his voice soft and full of love. "We’ve got a good thing goin’ here," he said. "And now, it’s just gonna get better."
You smiled, closing your eyes as you whispered back, "Yeah, it is."
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Time seemed to pass in a blur after that night. Every moment was a new memory, a new step toward the future you and Joel were building together. As the months went by, you prepared for the arrival of your baby while deepening the bond between you two. Joel was there for every ultrasound, every late-night craving, and every moment of excitement and nerves.
The day you both decided to get married wasn’t a grand occasion but something simple, just the way you both wanted it. You’d been sitting on the couch, going over baby names, when Joel looked at you with that soft, familiar smile and said, “Why don’t we get married before the little one arrives?”
At first, the idea seemed so casual, but the more you thought about it, the more perfect it felt. You didn’t need a big ceremony or an extravagant event. What you wanted was to make things official in the most meaningful way possible, with just the two of you and a handful of your closest friends and family.
The wedding day was intimate, held at a charming little venue not far from home. It was a crisp autumn day, the leaves turning shades of gold and crimson, and you couldn’t have asked for a more perfect setting. Your family and closest friends were there. As you walked toward him, your heart fluttered. Joel, standing tall and proud in his suit, his eyes filled with love and pride, made your breath catch in your throat. You couldn’t believe that this man, who had once been just a stranger, was now the center of your world.
When you reached him, Joel took your hands in his, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. His eyes locked onto yours, and in that moment, everything else faded away. It was just the two of you, standing together, ready to face whatever came next.
When you finally reached him, Joel took your hand, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. The look in his eyes was one of pure love and pride. He leaned in slightly and whispered, “You look beautiful, darlin’.”
The ceremony itself was short but filled with emotion. Joel’s voice wavered ever so slightly as he said his vows, and you could feel the weight of his words as he promised to love and support you forever.
“I never thought I’d be this lucky again,” he said softly, his eyes locked on yours. "You’ve given me more than I could’ve ever asked for."
Your heart swelled, and when it was your turn, you spoke from the heart. "I didn’t know life could be this good until I met you, Joel. You’ve changed everything for me."
The officiant declared you husband and wife, and Joel didn’t waste a second, pulling you in for a soft, meaningful kiss that felt like the beginning of a new chapter.
“By the power vested in me…” the officiant’s voice seemed to fade as you looked at Joel, your heart overflowing with love. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”
Joel’s smile widened as he gently cupped your face and pulled you into the sweetest, softest kiss. The world seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you in that moment, forever bound to each other.
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After the small, intimate wedding, life felt like it had settled into a beautiful rhythm. Every morning you woke up next to Joel felt like a dream you never wanted to end, and as your belly grew, so did your love for the life you were building together.
It was a calm morning a few weeks after the wedding, the sunlight streaming through the windows of your cozy home. Joel had already gotten out of bed to make breakfast, and you could hear the sounds of him moving around the kitchen. You smiled to yourself, feeling content and full of love.
You got up slowly, your hand instinctively resting on your growing bump. The baby had started kicking more frequently, and every little movement filled you with awe. You made your way to the kitchen, and there he was, standing at the stove, making scrambled eggs like he did every Sunday morning.
Joel looked over his shoulder when he heard you approach, his face breaking into a soft, adoring smile. "Mornin’, sweetheart. How’re you feelin’?"
“Good,” you said, wrapping your arms around him from behind, resting your cheek against his back. “Hungry, as always.”
He chuckled, placing a hand over yours. “That’s a good sign. I’ve got breakfast ready in just a few minutes.”
You sat down at the kitchen table, feeling the warmth of the sun on your face as Joel brought over plates of eggs, toast, and some fruit. As you both started eating, Joel couldn’t take his eyes off you, his expression full of love and admiration.
"You know," Joel started, his voice soft and thoughtful, "Every time I see you, like this, carryin' our baby… it just hits me how lucky I am."
You smiled, your heart swelling at his words. "I feel the same way, Joel. I can’t believe how much life has changed for the better. I never thought I’d get to be this happy."
Joel reached across the table, taking your hand in his. His thumb gently caressed the back of your hand as he gazed at you with that familiar warmth in his eyes. "We’ve been through a lot, but every bit of it led us here. And I wouldn’t change a thing."
After breakfast, the two of you spent the day together, enjoying the simple moments that made your life so full. Joel had taken time off from work to be around more as the baby’s due date got closer, and it felt like every day was another beautiful chapter in your love story.
As the evening drew near, you sat together on the couch, Joel’s hand resting protectively on your belly as the baby kicked softly. He looked at you, his eyes filled with a sense of peace and joy. "You’re gonna be such a great mom."
You smiled, leaning into him. "And you’re going to be the best dad."
Joel pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hand never leaving your bump. The two of you sat there in the quiet, simply enjoying each other’s presence, the future stretching out before you, full of hope and love.
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Months had passed, and the day finally arrived. You were in the hospital room, your hand gripping Joel’s tightly as you went through the final stages of labor. The pain was intense, but Joel was right there by your side, whispering encouragement in your ear, his voice calm and steady despite the chaos around you.
"You’re doin’ so good, sweetheart," Joel murmured, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face. His hand was firm in yours, grounding you as the contractions intensified. "Almost there. Just a little longer."
With one final push, the room filled with the first cry of your baby. Relief, exhaustion, and overwhelming joy washed over you as you collapsed back against the pillow. The doctor carefully placed the newborn in your arms, and when you looked down at her tiny face, everything else in the world faded away.
Joel stood beside you, his eyes wide with awe as he looked down at your daughter. "She’s here," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His hand hovered above her small head before he gently stroked her soft hair. "She’s perfect."
You smiled up at him, tears filling your eyes as you whispered, "Sarah."
Joel’s breath hitched, his gaze softening even more as he took in the name. "Sarah," he repeated, his voice barely a whisper. He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before brushing his lips over your daughter’s tiny head. "Welcome to the world, baby girl."
Sarah’s little fingers curled around your thumb as she lay in your arms, her cries quieting as she settled into the warmth of your body. The love that filled the room was almost overwhelming, and you couldn’t stop the tears that flowed down your cheeks.
Joel sat down beside you, his arm slipping around your shoulders as the two of you gazed at your daughter in awe. "She’s gonna have your strength," Joel said softly, his voice filled with pride. "I can already see it."
"And she’ll have your heart," you whispered, leaning into him. "She’s a little piece of both of us."
For hours, you sat together in the quiet of the hospital room, marveling at the tiny miracle in your arms. Sarah yawned, her tiny eyes fluttering open for the first time, and Joel’s face lit up with a joy you’d never seen before.
"You’re gonna be a great dad," you whispered, resting your head against his shoulder.
Joel smiled, his eyes never leaving Sarah’s face. "And you’re gonna be the best mom," he replied, his voice soft but full of certainty.
In that moment, everything felt complete. The life you had built with Joel had come full circle, and now, holding Sarah, it felt like the perfect beginning to something even more beautiful. The three of you were a family, and nothing could ever take that away.
As you both sat there, watching your newborn daughter sleep peacefully in your arms, Joel leaned down and kissed you softly. "Thank you," he whispered. "For all of this. For her."
You smiled, tears filling your eyes once again. "We did this together."
And as the night settled in, the three of you together, you knew that this, this was everything you had ever dreamed of. A love that had grown into something extraordinary, a family you never thought possible, and a future that was full of hope and endless possibilities.
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Time had passed, and life settled into a beautiful, busy rhythm. You found yourself balancing the challenges of raising Sarah while managing your work. Your coffee shop was thriving, and although it wasn’t always easy, the love and support Joel gave you made everything seem possible. Every morning, you’d drop Sarah off with her babysitter before opening the shop, your heart swelling as you kissed her little cheeks goodbye.
Joel and Tommy had built up their construction company together, working side by side like they always had. It was their dream, and they took pride in what they had created. Most evenings, they would come home late, tired but fulfilled, dust and sweat still clinging to their clothes, but there was always a smile on Joel's face as soon as he stepped through the door and saw you and Sarah.
It was a happy life, a busy one. Sarah was growing fast, and every day brought something new—a first laugh, her first wobbly steps, her fascination with the world around her. Joel had fallen completely in love with being a dad, always the first one to scoop Sarah up when he got home, carrying her around on his shoulders as she giggled.
One evening, after a long day of work, you were at home, feeding Sarah in her high chair while Joel and Tommy sat at the kitchen table, talking shop over dinner. You couldn’t help but smile as you listened to them go on about their latest project—something about expanding a new office building downtown. It warmed your heart to see Joel so happy in his work, and even more so knowing that you were all building this life together.
Joel caught your eye from across the table, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He stood up, coming over to where you were standing with Sarah. Gently, he wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.
“You’re incredible, you know that?” he whispered, his voice filled with admiration as he watched you interact with Sarah.
You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “We’re doing this together,” you said softly, mirroring the words you’d told him in the hospital that day Sarah was born.
Tommy chuckled from the table. “Look at you two, bein’ all sappy. I’d say I’m jealous, but I’m just happy y’all found this.”
Joel laughed and shook his head, glancing down at Sarah, who was reaching out for him. “We’re lucky,” he said, picking her up and holding her close. “Wouldn’t change a damn thing.”
As you watched Joel with your daughter, your heart swelled with a deep, contented happiness. The busy days, the challenges, and the long nights—it was all worth it. You had a family, a home filled with love, and a future that was built on the strength of the bond you shared. Every piece of your life had fallen into place, and there was nothing more you could ask for.
Later that night, after Tommy had left and Sarah was fast asleep in her crib, you and Joel sat together on the couch, the soft glow of the living room lamp casting a warm light over the room. Joel had his arm draped over your shoulders, and you were curled into his side, a blanket wrapped around the both of you. The house was quiet, a peaceful kind of stillness that only came after a busy day with Sarah.
You sighed contentedly, resting your head on Joel's chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It had been a long day, but these quiet moments together always made it feel like everything was exactly where it should be.
Joel pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his hand gently rubbing your arm. “Been thinkin’ a lot about our future,” he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful.
You looked up at him, curious. “Yeah? What about it?”
He smiled softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that familiar way that always made your heart flutter. “I mean… look at us,” he said, glancing down at you and then toward the hallway where Sarah slept. “We’ve got a beautiful baby girl, a home… but I wanna make sure I’m givin’ y’all the life you deserve.”
You reached up, cupping his cheek and turning his face toward you. “Joel, you’re already doing that,” you said earnestly. “We have everything we need. We have each other.”
He leaned into your touch, his eyes softening. “I know, darlin’. But I’ve been thinkin’ about what’s next for us. I want to keep buildin’—for us, for Sarah. Maybe someday, we could get a bigger place… one with a backyard where Sarah can run around. And who knows, maybe she won’t be the only little one runnin’ around.”
You blinked in surprise, your heart skipping a beat at the thought. “Are you saying you want more kids?”
Joel chuckled softly, his hand finding yours and lacing his fingers with yours. “I’d be lyin’ if I said the thought hasn’t crossed my mind,” he admitted. “But only if you want it too. I just… I love this, our family. I love seein’ Sarah grow and thinkin’ about what’s ahead for all of us.”
You smiled, the thought of expanding your family filling you with warmth. “I love it too,” you said softly. “And I love the idea of giving Sarah a sibling someday. But… no rush, okay?”
He nodded, his gaze full of understanding. “No rush,” he repeated. “I just want us to be happy, however that looks.”
You nestled closer to him, feeling an overwhelming sense of contentment. “We already are, Joel,” you whispered. “But I love that we can dream about our future together. Whatever comes next, we’ll figure it out, just like we always do.”
Joel smiled, pulling you closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Damn right we will,” he murmured against your mouth, his voice full of promise.
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Life was passing, and you were living it. Every day you woke up feeling the most content person alive, waking up to a wonderful husband and to a beautiful daughter you both had created was the best prize you could have won.
So the time passed, and Sarah’s third birthday arrived. a day filled with laughter, cake, and the joyful chaos of a toddler’s party. The backyard had been transformed into a wonderland of balloons, streamers, and a small play area for the kids, all running around with boundless energy. Joel and Tommy were manning the grill, flipping burgers and laughing as they joked about who had the better cooking skills. You were sitting on the porch, watching Sarah play with her friends, her smile wide as she tore into the wrapping of her presents.
The sight of her beaming with happiness filled you with warmth, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. It had started earlier in the day, a subtle dizziness that washed over you while you were setting up for the party. At first, you brushed it off, assuming it was just the exhaustion of planning and preparing for the celebration. But as the day went on, the feeling persisted, a faint buzzing in your head that wouldn’t go away.
You stood up from your seat, intending to join Joel and Tommy at the grill, when the dizziness hit you again—stronger this time. Your vision blurred, and your legs wobbled beneath you. You reached out, gripping the railing of the porch to steady yourself, but it felt like the ground was shifting beneath your feet.
“Hey, you alright?” Joel’s voice cut through the haze, his hand suddenly on your shoulder, steadying you.
You blinked a few times, trying to shake the feeling. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, offering him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Just… a little dizzy. Probably just need to sit down.”
Joel’s brow furrowed with concern, his hand gently guiding you back to the porch swing. “You’ve been actin’ off all day,” he said, kneeling in front of you. “Maybe you should take a break from all this. Let me handle things for a bit.”
“I’ll be okay,” you insisted, though the pounding in your head was starting to grow. You didn’t want to worry him, especially on a day like this, but the unease settling in your chest was hard to ignore.
Just then, Sarah came running over, her tiny hands grabbing onto Joel’s leg as she tugged at his jeans. “Daddy! Come see my new toy!” she squealed, her face lit up with excitement.
Joel gave you a quick look, clearly torn, but you waved him off. “Go, Joel. I’m fine. I’ll just rest for a bit.”
He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours, before he nodded. “Alright. But promise me you’ll tell me if you feel worse.”
You nodded, watching as he stood up and scooped Sarah into his arms, spinning her around as she giggled in delight. You leaned back into the swing, closing your eyes for a moment, hoping that maybe it was just the stress of the day catching up to you. But deep down, you knew something wasn’t right.
The dizziness wasn’t going away. It was getting worse.
A few hours later, after the party had wound down and the guests had left, you were helping Joel clean up when the room suddenly tilted, and your vision blurred again. This time, the dizziness was so overwhelming that you couldn’t stop it. The world spun around you, and before you could call out to Joel, everything went dark.
When you opened your eyes again, you were lying on the couch, Joel’s worried face hovering above you. His hand was gripping yours tightly, and there was fear in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before.
“Hey, hey,” he said softly, his voice shaky. “Stay with me. I’m gonna take you to the doctor, alright? You passed out.”
You tried to sit up, but your head throbbed, and Joel gently pushed you back down. “No arguments,” he said firmly. “Somethin’s not right, and we’re gettin’ it checked out.”
You nodded weakly, the fear creeping in as the gravity of the situation began to settle. You hadn’t felt like yourself in days, and now it was clear that it wasn’t just exhaustion. Something was wrong, and as much as you wanted to stay strong for Joel and Sarah, the worry was starting to gnaw at you.
Joel pressed a kiss to your forehead, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes.
So the next morning, you decided to go to the doctor alone. You assured Joel over breakfast that everything would be fine, putting on your bravest smile as you sipped your coffee. "It’s probably just stress or maybe… maybe even another pregnancy," you joked, trying to keep things light.
Joel wasn’t entirely convinced. His eyes followed your every movement, lingering with concern, but you pressed a kiss to his cheek and promised you’d text him as soon as you knew something. "You’ve got Sarah to watch today. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine."
As you sat in the doctor’s office later that day, waiting for your results, you kept replaying those words in your head
I’ll be fine. You wanted to believe it. You needed to believe it.
The doctor finally entered the room, a somber expression on his face. You sat up a little straighter, a nervous laugh bubbling up as you tried to break the tension. "So… what’s the verdict? Am I pregnant, or do I just need to get more sleep?"
He didn’t smile. That was your first clue.
"We ran some tests based on your symptoms," he began slowly, carefully. "And… I’m sorry to tell you this, but it’s not what we hoped."
Your heart plummeted, the air in the room suddenly thick and suffocating. "What do you mean?" you asked, your voice trembling despite your best effort to stay calm.
The doctor took a deep breath, his gaze steady but filled with sympathy. "The dizziness, the fatigue… it's not stress or pregnancy. The tests show signs of a rare, aggressive illness. I’m afraid it’s terminal."
For a moment, you couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. It felt like the words were echoing in a tunnel, distant and surreal. "Terminal?" The word barely escaped your lips.
He nodded gently. "I’m very sorry. It’s advanced, and from what we’ve seen, it’s progressed faster than we anticipated. There are treatments to manage symptoms, but… it’s not curable."
Your world shattered in that instant. Everything around you seemed to blur and slow, the weight of the news crashing down like a tidal wave. The future you had imagined, raising Sarah, growing old with Joel, suddenly felt like a distant dream, slipping away before you could grasp it.
You sat there in stunned silence, your mind reeling. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away, trying to keep some semblance of control. You didn’t want to break down, not yet.
"What… what’s the timeline?" you finally managed to ask, your voice barely a whisper.
"It’s hard to say," the doctor replied gently. "Months, maybe a year. We’ll need to monitor closely and discuss the best options moving forward."
The rest of the appointment passed in a haze. You nodded at the right moments, accepted the information he gave you about treatment options, but none of it seemed to stick. The only thing you could think about was how you were going to tell Joel. How you were going to explain to him that your time together was now limited.
As you walked out of the office, the afternoon sun seemed too bright, too cheerful for what you had just learned. You felt numb, as though you were moving through a dream, detached from the reality that had just been placed in front of you.
You sat in your car for a long time, staring at your phone, trying to figure out how to text Joel. You had promised him everything would be fine. You had been so sure of it.
But now, you had to go home and face the hardest conversation of your life.
How were you going to tell the man you loved, the father of your child, that you were dying?
With trembling hands, you finally typed a message
On my way home:)
++++++++
You pulled up to the house, gripping the steering wheel as if it could somehow anchor you to reality.
A year.
You had a year to watch your daughter grow, to be with Joel. It felt so impossibly short, like sand slipping through your fingers. Every moment from now on was precious, but how were you supposed to tell him?
Taking a deep breath, you got out of the car and made your way to the front door. The smell of lunch wafted through the air as you stepped inside, your mind momentarily distracted by the warmth and familiarity of home. Laughter echoed from the kitchen, and your heart ached knowing how much this place had become your safe haven, filled with the people you loved most.
"Mommy!" Sarah’s excited voice snapped you back to reality as she came running towards you, her little arms outstretched.
You bent down, forcing a smile as you scooped her into your arms, hugging her tight, burying your face in her hair. "Hey, baby girl," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion as you held her a little longer than usual.
As you straightened up, you felt Joel’s eyes on you instantly. He was standing in the kitchen with Tommy and his new girlfriend, Maria, preparing lunch. His gaze locked onto yours, concern immediately flashing across his face. He knew something was wrong.
"We’ll talk later," Joel mouthed quietly, giving you a look that said he wasn’t going to let it go. He always had a way of reading you, knowing when something wasn’t right.
You nodded, your heart sinking further as Sarah wiggled out of your arms and ran back to play. Tommy greeted you with a grin, oblivious to the weight of the news you carried.
"Hey there!" Tommy said, tossing a dish towel over his shoulder. "You’re just in time for lunch. Maria made her famous chili. You’re gonna love it."
You forced another smile, but it felt hollow. "Sounds great, Tommy," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.
Maria looked up from the stove, giving you a warm smile as well. "It’s good to see you. Hope you’re hungry."
But your appetite was the last thing on your mind. You felt like you were moving on autopilot, helping set the table, making small talk, but your thoughts kept circling back to the doctor’s words. Every glance Joel shot your way reminded you of the conversation you still had to have.
Lunch passed in a blur, the clatter of plates and the hum of conversation surrounding you as you tried to stay present. But every time you looked at Joel or Sarah, your heart clenched tighter. How could you tell them? How could you face what was coming?
After lunch, Tommy and Maria offered to clean up, and you were grateful for the momentary reprieve. Joel came up behind you, gently placing a hand on your back. "Come with me," he said softly, leading you into the living room.
As soon as the door closed behind you, Joel turned to face you, his expression filled with worry. "What’s going on?" he asked, his voice steady but laced with fear. "You’ve been off since you got home."
You looked into his eyes, the man you loved more than anything, and you felt the tears welling up. This was it. There was no avoiding it now.
"Joel…" Your voice cracked, and you took a deep breath, trying to find the strength to say the words. "It wasn’t another pregnancy."
Joel’s brow furrowed as he stepped closer, his hand moving to cup your cheek. "Then what is it? What did they say?"
Tears finally spilled over as you choked out the words you’d been dreading. "I’m sick, Joel. It’s bad. The doctor… the doctor said I have a year. Maybe less."
For a moment, the world seemed to stop. Joel’s hand dropped from your face, his eyes widening in disbelief. "What?" he whispered, like he couldn’t quite process what you’d just said.
You nodded, tears streaming down your face. "I’m dying, Joel. There’s nothing they can do. It’s a terminal illness, and… and I only have a year."
The room was silent, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Joel just stared at you, his face pale, as if the ground had been ripped out from under him. "No… no, there has to be something… some kind of treatment." His voice cracked, panic seeping in.
You shook your head, your own heart breaking as you watched the man you loved fall apart in front of you. "There’s nothing, Joel. They can manage the symptoms, but… it’s only a matter of time."
Joel let out a ragged breath, his eyes filling with tears as he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly, like if he could just hold on, it would somehow change everything. "No, no… not you. Not now."
You clung to him, sobbing into his chest, feeling the devastation in every fiber of his being as he held you. "I’m so sorry," you whispered. "I’m so, so sorry."
Joel pulled back, cupping your face in his hands as tears streaked down his own cheeks. "We’ll fight this, okay? We’ll fight this with everything we’ve got. We’ll make the most of every damn second." His voice was thick with emotion, his determination cutting through the pain.
Joel's resolve was fierce and unwavering, a beacon of strength amidst the overwhelming sorrow. His hands gently but firmly cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that continued to fall. "We’ll fight this," he repeated, his voice steadier now, a promise amidst the anguish. "I know it's not fair, but we can't give up. We have to make every moment count."
You nodded, trying to draw strength from his determination, though the weight of the reality still felt crushing. "I just want to make sure Sarah has the best memories of us," you said softly, your voice trembling. "I want her to know how much she's loved, even if I'm not there."
Joel's eyes softened, and he nodded in understanding. "She will know, darlin'. We'll make sure of it. We'll do everything we can to give her the best of us, to show her how much she means to us."
The raw emotion in his voice was palpable, and you could see the resolve in his eyes. He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his touch as gentle as ever.
“I won’t lose you” he whispered, to himself mostly.
+++++++++++
The house was quiet, the gentle hum of the night providing a somber backdrop to your restless thoughts. Despite the late hour, you found yourself unable to sleep, your mind racing with the weight of what you’d just shared with Joel. The sadness and anxiety seemed to follow you as you moved through the house, a heavy blanket of worry that pressed down on you.
Driven by an instinctive need to be close to your daughter, you quietly made your way to Sarah’s room. The hallway was dimly lit, the soft glow of a nightlight casting a warm, reassuring light. You carefully opened the door, trying not to disturb the peacefulness within.
Sarah’s room was filled with the soft, comforting clutter of childhood—a colorful mobile spinning slowly above her crib, stuffed animals scattered around, and drawings she’d made hanging on the walls. You stepped inside, your heart aching at the sight of your little girl sleeping so innocently.
She was nestled under her covers, her tiny chest rising and falling with each gentle breath. The moonlight streamed through the window, casting a serene glow on her peaceful face. You approached the crib quietly, your footsteps muffled on the soft carpet.
You stood there for a moment, just watching her sleep, the tears that had previously flowed now subsiding into a quiet sadness. Seeing her so calm and content was both comforting and heartbreaking. You reached out a hand, gently brushing a lock of hair from her face, your touch tender and full of love.
As you gazed at her, the reality of your situation seemed to crystallize in a new way. This precious child, so full of life and promise, was the center of your world. The thought of not being there to watch her grow up was almost too much to bear.
You took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady yourself. "I love you so much, Sarah," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I’m going to make sure you know that, every single day."
The soft rustle of the door alerted you to Joel’s presence. He had followed you quietly, sensing your distress. He stepped into the room, his eyes softening as he saw you standing by Sarah’s crib. Without a word, he came to stand beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders in a comforting embrace.
"She’s beautiful," Joel murmured, his voice gentle, filled sadness.  
You nodded, leaning into him, the warmth of his presence a small but significant comfort. "I just… I want to make sure she’s okay. I want to make sure she remembers how much I love her.”
Joel’s breath hitched as he listened to your words, the weight of your statement crashing over him like a tidal wave. He stood silently for a moment, his arm still around you, but his grip tightening as he tried to hold himself together. The reality of the situation—the harsh truth of your illness and the limited time you had left—was almost too much for him to bear.
As your words sank in, Joel's composure began to crack. The tears that had been pooling in his eyes finally spilled over, his shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. He buried his face into your shoulder, his body trembling as he let the pain and grief flow freely.
"I can't… I can't believe this," Joel choked out, his voice breaking. "You’re not supposed to go… not now. Not when we’ve finally got everything we ever wanted."
You turned to him, your own tears mixing with his as you gently cupped his face in your hands. "Joel, I wish there was something I could do to change this," you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. "But right now, all we can do is make the most of the time we have left. I need you to be strong, for Sarah, for us."
Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of anguish and determination. "I don’t know how to be strong without you. You’re everything to me."
You wiped away his tears with your thumb, trying to offer some solace. "You have to. For Sarah. She needs you just as much as I do. We both do."
Joel nodded slowly, his sobs subsiding into a series of ragged breaths. He pulled you closer, holding you tightly as if he could somehow shield you from the inevitable. "I’ll do it," he promised, his voice hoarse. "I’ll be strong.”
You rested your forehead against his, your hearts beating in sync as you shared this painful but precious moment together. Every second between you both counted.
“Let me be with you through this. Let me go with you to the doctor and take care of you” he pleaded.
+++++++++++
You felt the warmth of Joel’s breath against your forehead, the intensity of his love and fear palpable in every touch. His words were both a comfort and a heartbreaking reminder of the reality you were facing.
"Joel," you whispered, your voice trembling, "I need you to be with me through this, too. I can’t do it alone. But I want to be strong for you and Sarah, and I want you to be strong for us."
Joel nodded, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and determination. "I’ll be here. Every step of the way. I promise."
He gently pulled you back from the crib, guiding you to sit on the edge of Sarah's bed. He sat beside you, taking your hand in his and holding it tightly. The simple gesture of his hand enveloping yours was a small but powerful symbol of his unwavering support.
"We’ll face this together," he said, his voice steadying as he spoke. "We’ll go to every appointment, handle every treatment, and make sure you’re as comfortable as you can be. We’ll make every day count."
You squeezed his hand, a faint smile touching your lips despite the tears streaming down your face. "Thank you, Joel. It means the world to me."
He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "I love you," he murmured. "And I’ll do everything I can to make sure you know that, every single day."
You both sat there for a while, the quiet of the night punctuated only by the soft, rhythmic breathing of your sleeping daughter. In that intimate space, amidst the uncertainty and fear, you found a sliver of peace. Together, you faced the daunting road ahead with love and resilience, clinging to each other and to the hope of making the most of every precious moment you had left.
Eventually, Joel helped you up, and you both quietly left Sarah’s room, closing the door softly behind you. As you walked back to your own bedroom, you felt Joel’s steady presence beside you, and though the future was uncertain, you knew that, with him by your side, you would face whatever came with the strength and love that had always defined your life together.
++++++++
Time seemed to slip through your fingers, each day marked by the weight of your diagnosis and the ever-present pain of knowing how limited your time was. Every sunset felt like a reminder of the time slipping away—one day less to share with Joel, one day less to hold Sarah. The urgency of every moment grew more intense, and you clung to each precious second.
You and Joel had a scheduled visit to the doctor, and the tension in the air was palpable. The doctor explained a treatment plan that could help manage your symptoms and ease your pain, but the prospect of spending even more time in a hospital filled you with dread.
As you sat in the sterile, white room, Joel's eyes were fixed on the doctor, but he kept glancing at you, searching for some sign of agreement or understanding. The doctor’s voice was calm and professional, but Joel’s anxiety was palpable as he tried to take in every detail.
"You should start this treatment as soon as possible," the doctor said. "It will help manage the pain and improve your quality of life."
You shook your head, your chest tightening. "I don’t want to be in and out of hospitals. I want to be with Joel and Sarah. I want to spend whatever time I have left with them, not stuck in a hospital room."
Joel’s face reddened with frustration and concern. "But this could make things easier for you. You don’t have to suffer through the pain if you take this treatment!"
"I don’t want to spend my days in a hospital!" you argued back, your voice rising. "I want to be with my family, not lying in a bed surrounded by machines and IV drips. Every day I spend there is a day I lose with you.”
The argument grew heated, both of you caught in the clash between your desire to make the most of your time and Joel's desperation to find any way to alleviate your suffering.
Joel’s face was a mixture of anger and helplessness as he tried to make you understand. "I’m just trying to help you! I want you to be as comfortable as possible. I can’t bear the thought of you in pain."
You took a deep breath, your emotions raw. "I know you’re trying to help, Joel. But I need to live, not just survive. I want to hold Sarah, kiss you goodnight, and make memories with you. I don’t want my last days to be filled with hospital rooms and treatments. I want to be where I can be with you both, as much as possible."
The room fell silent, the gravity of your words sinking in. Joel’s shoulders slumped, and he looked away, his hands gripping the edge of the chair tightly. The fight had left him, replaced by a deep, painful realization of the limited time you both had.
Finally, Joel reached out, taking your hand in his with a gentleness that belied the struggle he was feeling. "Alright," he said quietly, his voice weary and tired.
“I don’t want you both to forget me” you said, “I need to know I was important.”
Joel’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He looked at you with a mixture of sadness and determination, his voice cracking as he spoke. “You’ll never be forgotten. You are the most important person in our lives. Sarah will know all about how much you loved her, and I’ll make sure she knows how much you meant to me, too.”
You nodded, your heart aching at the depth of his words. “I just need to be sure that I’m leaving something behind—something that tells you both how much I love you.”
Joel wiped a tear from his cheek, his face softening with a pained smile. “You’ve already left us with so much. Your love, your laughter, your strength… it’s all a part of who we are. And it will be with us, always.”
You squeezed his hand, finding some comfort in his words, even as your heart ached with the reality of your situation. “I want to make sure we make every day count. I want Sarah to have the best memories of us together, of our family.”
Joel nodded; his expression resolute. “We will. Every day will be filled with love and laughter, and we’ll make sure Sarah knows how much you meant to her. We’ll make the most of this time, I promise.”
++++++++
The days that followed were a whirlwind of bittersweet moments, as you and Joel made the most of every precious second together. Despite the heaviness that lingered over your days, there was a sense of determination to fill them with love and joy for both yourself and Sarah.
Every morning, you and Joel would wake up early, watching Sarah’s tiny face light up with a smile as you all shared breakfast together. The simple pleasures of family life became even more cherished. You would spend afternoons at the park, where Sarah’s laughter rang out as she chased butterflies and played on the swings, with Joel pushing her higher and higher.
One of the things you enjoyed most was having movie nights. The three of you would snuggle on the couch, watching animated films and eating popcorn, with Joel often making silly faces to make Sarah giggle. You cherished these moments of simple happiness, knowing they would be treasured memories for your little girl.
Joel also made sure to capture these memories. He took countless photos of you with Sarah, documenting every milestone and every cherished moment. There were days filled with arts and crafts, with Sarah’s tiny hands covered in paint as she created colorful drawings that you proudly displayed around the house.
In the evenings, when Sarah was asleep, you and Joel would sit together, talking about the future and reminiscing about your past. There were tears, but also laughter, as you shared stories and dreams. Joel’s presence was a constant source of comfort and strength, and you found solace in the way he held you close, even as you both faced the reality of the time you had left.
On weekends, you would go on family outings—visiting the zoo, going on picnics, and taking long walks in nature. Joel made sure these outings were filled with joy and wonder for Sarah, creating a world where she felt loved and cherished.
As the months passed, there were moments of quiet reflection. Joel would often hold you close while watching Sarah sleep, whispering reassurances and promises to you. Even in the midst of your struggle, you found strength in the love and support of your family.
And when the time came to say goodbye, it was with the knowledge that you had filled your days with love, laughter, and unforgettable memories. You left behind a legacy of warmth and affection that would continue to live on in the hearts of those you loved most.
++++++++++
the moments you shared with Joel became even more precious. Despite the looming shadow of your illness, you both found solace in each other's arms, drawing strength from the love that had always been a cornerstone of your relationship.
In the evenings, after Sarah had gone to bed, Joel would take your hand and lead you to the quiet sanctuary of your bedroom. There, you would spend time talking, reminiscing, and dreaming of a future that, though limited, was filled with love. You’d sit together on the edge of the bed, holding each other close, sharing whispers of gratitude and affection. The conversations often revolved around how much you meant to each other, the deep love you had for one another, and the life you had built together.
“I’m so grateful for every moment we’ve had,” Joel would say, his voice soft and filled with emotion. “You’ve made my life so much richer, so much more meaningful. I don’t know how I’ll manage without you, but I know I’ll carry you with me every single day.”
You’d look into his eyes, feeling a profound sense of connection and love. “You’ve been my rock, Joel. Through everything, you’ve been there for me. I’ve loved every second of our life together, and I’m so glad I got to share this time with you.”
Joel would gently brush your hair back from your face, his touch tender and loving. “I’m going to make sure Sarah knows just how much you loved her. I’ll keep your memory alive in everything we do. She’s going to grow up knowing how special you were.”
You’d smile through your tears, finding comfort in his words. “And I’ll be with you both in every step you take, every laugh, every tear. I’ll be in the memories we’ve made, in the love that we shared.”
On weekends, you and Joel would find small adventures to embark on, just the two of you. Whether it was taking a scenic drive to your favorite spots, having a quiet dinner at a restaurant you both loved, or simply sitting together in the backyard under the stars, you made sure these moments were filled with love and laughter.
One night, after a particularly special dinner where you reminisced about your favorite moments together, Joel held you close and whispered, “I love you more than words can say. I want you to know that you are everything to me. I can’t imagine my life without you, but I’m so grateful for the time we’ve had.”
You snuggled closer, feeling the warmth of his love. “I love you too, Joel. Every day with you has been a gift, and I’m so glad I got to share this journey with you. You’ve made my life so full.”
++++++++++
One evening, you and Joel had invited Tommy and Maria over for dinner. It was a comforting routine that allowed you to share joyful moments with family, despite the shadow that loomed over your days. The table was set with your favorite dishes, laughter and conversation flowing freely as you all enjoyed the meal together.
Sarah was in her high chair, delighting in the company and the food, her giggles adding a touch of lightness to the atmosphere. Joel was by your side, occasionally glancing at you with a mixture of love and concern. Tommy and Maria chatted animatedly, their warmth creating a cocoon of familiarity and comfort.
But as the evening wore on, you began to feel a growing unease. A wave of dizziness washed over you, and you tried to brush it off, attributing it to the long day and the stress you had been under. However, the feeling didn’t subside. Instead, it intensified, leaving you feeling weak and disoriented.
Joel noticed your discomfort immediately. His face tightened with concern as he reached out to steady you. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice tinged with worry.
You forced a smile, but the effort was clearly draining. “I’m just feeling a bit off. I think I need to sit down for a minute.”
Tommy and Maria’s conversation faltered as they noticed the change in the mood. Tommy’s eyes met Joel’s, and the unease was palpable. “Maybe you should go to the hospital,” Tommy suggested gently, his voice carrying a note of urgency.
Joel’s expression shifted to one of determination. He stood up, helping you to your feet with a steadying arm. “We need to get you checked out,” he said firmly, his worry evident.
Maria quickly gathered your things, while Joel helped you into the car. Sarah, sensing the tension, looked up with curious eyes as Tommy comforted her, assuring her everything would be alright.
The drive to the hospital was a blur of anxious thoughts and unspoken fears. Joel’s hand remained tightly clasped around yours, offering both support and strength. The hospital’s bright lights and bustling atmosphere seemed almost surreal as you arrived, your strength waning with each step.
Joel rushed you through the emergency room, the urgency of the situation clear in his eyes. The doctors and nurses quickly took over, guiding you through a series of tests and assessments. Joel remained by your side, his presence a constant source of comfort amid the chaos.
As the minutes ticked by, you could see the worry etched deeply on Joel’s face. He paced back and forth, occasionally glancing at the clock as if willing time to slow down. The tension in the room was palpable, with Tommy and Maria waiting in the hallway, their faces etched with concern.
Finally, the doctor emerged, and Joel’s heart sank as he saw the somber expression on the doctor’s face. He immediately went to the doctor, his voice trembling as he asked for information. The doctor’s words were gentle but clear: your condition had worsened, and it was only a matter of time.
Joel’s world seemed to tilt, and he struggled to hold back his tears as he returned to your side. He sat beside you, his hand gripping yours tightly. “I’m here with you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m not leaving.”
You looked into his eyes, feeling a profound sense of gratitude and love despite the pain you were experiencing. “Thank you for being here with me”
As you lay in the hospital bed, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of the overhead lights, you found solace in Joel’s presence beside you. His hand was still gripping yours, the warmth and strength of his touch providing a small measure of comfort amidst the uncertainty.
Joel looked at you, his eyes brimming with tears, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. "You know," he began, his voice trembling slightly, "I keep thinking about how we first met."
You managed a faint smile, despite the heaviness in your chest. "At this very hospital," you said softly. "It feels like a lifetime ago."
Joel nodded, a chuckle escaping his lips, though it was tinged with sadness. "Yeah, I remember that day.
You squeezed his hand gently. "And now, here we are again. It's almost poetic, in a way."
Joel’s eyes filled with tears once more as he looked at you, the weight of the moment crashing down on him. "It’s just… so damn unfair. We had so much more to experience together, so many more memories to make. I thought we’d have years, not just a few precious months."
The tears fell freely now, streaming down Joel’s face as he struggled to contain his grief. He bowed his head, his shoulders shaking with sobs. "I don’t know how to say goodbye. I don’t know how to live in a world without you."
You reached out, cupping his face in your hands. "You don’t have to say goodbye yet," you whispered, your own voice breaking. "We still have these moments, these precious days together. And even after I’m gone, you’ll carry my love with you. I’ll be in your heart, in Sarah’s laughter, and in every little thing we’ve shared."
Joel nodded, trying to steady his breath as he wiped away his tears. "I’ll hold on to that. I’ll remember every moment we had, every laugh, every kiss. I’ll make sure Sarah knows how much you loved her, and I’ll keep your memory alive in everything we do."
You gazed into his eyes, finding strength in his resolve. "And I’ll be with you both, always. In the memories we’ve made and the love we’ve shared."
Joel leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, his tears mingling with yours. "I love you so much," he murmured. "More than words can ever express."
"I love you too," you whispered back. "Forever and always."
The night wore on, the hospital room growing quieter with each passing hour. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor became a solemn reminder of the fleeting time left. Your breaths were growing shallower, each one a struggle as the weight of your condition became increasingly apparent.
Joel stayed by your side, his hand still holding yours with a steady grip. His eyes, red from crying, remained fixed on you, his face a mask of heartache and determination. He knew this was the final chapter of your journey, and he was determined to be with you every step of the way.
With a tender and measured touch, Joel reached for Sarah, who had been resting in the care of Tommy and Maria. He gently carried her into the room, her small body nestled against his chest. The sight of her, innocent and unaware of the gravity of the situation, brought a new wave of tears to your eyes.
Joel carefully placed Sarah in your arms, her soft, warm weight providing a bittersweet comfort. You looked down at her cherubic face, feeling a surge of love and sorrow. Your heart ached knowing that you wouldn’t be there to watch her grow up, but you were determined to leave her with a sense of your love.
“Hey, my sweet girl,” you whispered, your voice weak but filled with affection. Sarah looked up at you with curious eyes, her tiny fingers grasping yours. “Mommy loves you so much.”
Joel sat beside you, his hand resting on Sarah’s small back. He looked at you with a mixture of pain and gratitude. “She’s beautiful. She’s going to grow up knowing how much you loved her.”
You smiled faintly, your eyes meeting Joel’s. “Promise me you’ll tell her stories about me. About our time together, and how much we loved each other.”
Joel nodded, tears streaming down his face. “I promise. She’ll know all about you. She’ll know how amazing you were, how much you loved her, and how you made every moment special.”
As your breaths grew slower, the room seemed to hold its breath with you. Joel leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m here with you,” he whispered. “You’re not alone.”
You turned your gaze back to Sarah, your voice trembling as you spoke to her. “I’ll always be with you, sweetheart. In your heart, in your dreams, and in every beautiful thing you do. Mommy loves you more than anything.”
Sarah cooed softly, her tiny fingers reaching out to touch your face. You gently caressed her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin. “Be good for Daddy. He’ll take care of you, and he’ll love you just as much as I do.”
Joel’s tears fell freely now, his face buried in his hands as he struggled to contain his grief. He took a deep breath, his voice cracking with emotion as he spoke to you. “We’ll be okay. We’ll remember you. We’ll make sure Sarah knows how special you were, and we’ll keep you in our hearts forever.”
You took a final, shuddering breath, your strength waning. You looked at Joel one last time, seeing the depth of his love and commitment. “I love you,” you whispered. “Forever and always.”
With that final promise, you closed your eyes, feeling a deep sense of peace. The love that had defined your life, the love that you had shared with Joel and Sarah, would continue to live on in their hearts, a testament to the beautiful and profound bond you had created together.
+++++++++++
The room fell into an overwhelming silence after your final breath. The beeping of the heart monitor ceased, replaced by the quiet sobs of Joel and the soft, rhythmic breathing of Sarah, who remained nestled in your arms. The gravity of the moment settled heavily on Joel, and he carefully took Sarah from your lifeless embrace, holding her close as he struggled to contain his grief.
Tommy and Maria, who had been waiting outside, came in quietly, their eyes red and their faces etched with sorrow. They stood at a respectful distance, offering their support and understanding as Joel cradled Sarah in his arms, tears streaming down his face.
Joel gently laid you back onto the hospital bed, his fingers lingering on your hand as if hoping to feel a last trace of warmth. His heart was shattered, but he knew he had to be strong for Sarah. He reached for the small bundle of joy that was their daughter, holding her close and whispering words of comfort to her.
He glanced around the room, taking in the reality of the situation. The once lively conversations, the shared laughter, and the promises of a future together seemed like a distant memory now. It was a stark contrast to the present, a heavy silence filled with the echoes of your love and the pain of your absence.
Tommy stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on Joel’s shoulder. “We’ll take care of everything,” he said softly. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”
Maria nodded; her eyes filled with compassion. “We’ll help you with all the arrangements. We’re here for you, for Sarah.”
Joel managed a nod, his voice hoarse as he replied, “Thank you.”
It was all he managed to say.
+++++++++++
Joel stumbled through the front door of the house, the once familiar warmth now replaced by an overwhelming coldness. Each step felt heavier as he moved through the rooms, his heart aching with the absence of your presence. The house, once filled with laughter and love, now felt hollow and silent.
He made his way to the bedroom, the place where you had shared so many moments of intimacy and comfort. As he entered the room, the emptiness was palpable. The bed, once shared, now seemed too large and lonely. The space you had filled with your presence and love was now a void, echoing with memories.
Joel collapsed onto the bed, his chest heaving with the intensity of his grief. He buried his face in the pillow, the scent of you still lingering faintly. Tears streamed down his face as he allowed himself to fully embrace the sorrow that had overtaken him. The silence of the room was only broken by the sound of his sobs, a raw and unrestrained expression of the depth of his pain.
He clutched the pillow, imagining it was you, and whispered your name through his tears. “I miss you so much,” he choked out, his voice breaking with every word. “I don’t know how to do this without you.”
The room felt like a shrine to your memory, filled with remnants of your life together—the framed photographs on the nightstands, the soft glow of the bedside lamp, and the faint traces of your touch. Each item seemed to amplify the void left behind.
Joel’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and regrets. He replayed moments from the past—times when you had laughed together, held each other, and dreamed of a future that now felt out of reach. The memories were both a comfort and a torment, a reminder of what had been lost and what would never be again.
As he lay there, the exhaustion of the day and the emotional toll finally began to weigh on him. He knew he had to be strong for Sarah, but in this moment, alone in the room that held so many of your shared memories, he allowed himself to grieve. The night stretched out before him, a long and lonely vigil as he wrestled with the enormity of his loss.
Hours later, Joel eventually drifted into a fitful sleep, the weight of his grief a constant companion. He knew that tomorrow would bring more challenges, more pain, and more adjustments to a life forever altered by your absence. But for now, the quiet of the night and the space you had shared was all he had, and he clung to it as a bittersweet reminder of the love that would always remain in his heart.
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On Sarah’s thirteenth birthday, Joel felt a mix of pride and bittersweet nostalgia. It was a significant milestone, and he wanted it to be special for her. The day had been filled with laughter, friends, and celebrations, but there was one more moment that he had been waiting for—a moment he had kept close to his heart.
After the festivities had calmed down and Sarah was surrounded by her friends and family, Joel gently called her aside. “There’s something I want to give you,” he said, his voice carrying a tender note of emotion.
Sarah looked at him with curiosity as he led her to a quiet corner of the house. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a small, carefully wrapped package. The paper was adorned with a delicate floral design, and a note was attached with a ribbon.
“This is something your mom left for you,” Joel said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “She knew this day would come, and she wanted you to have this.”
Sarah’s eyes widened with surprise as she carefully untied the ribbon and removed the wrapping. Inside was a beautifully crafted jewelry box, its surface intricately designed with floral patterns and delicate engravings. As she lifted the lid, a soft gasp escaped her lips.
Inside the box lay a locket, its surface engraved with the initials “S” and “J,” and a small, framed photo of you and Sarah, taken when she was just a baby. The locket contained two small, precious pictures—one of you, and one of Sarah as a newborn.
Sarah’s eyes filled with tears as she looked up at Joel. “I’ve never seen this before,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
Joel nodded, his own eyes misty. “Your mom wanted you to have it on your thirteenth birthday. She wanted you to know how much she loved you and how proud she was of the person you’re becoming.”
Sarah carefully picked up the locket, her fingers brushing the photo of you. “Thank you,” she said, her voice choked with emotion. “It means so much to me.”
Joel pulled her into a gentle embrace, holding her close as she cried softly against him. “She loved you more than anything,” Joel said quietly. “And she’s always with us, in our hearts and in our memories.”
As Sarah held the locket close, she looked up at Joel with a grateful smile. “I’m going to keep this forever,” she said, her voice filled with determination. “It’s a piece of her that I can always carry with me.”
Joel smiled through his tears, feeling a profound sense of peace. “She would be so proud of you,” he said. “And she’ll always be a part of your life, just like she is a part of mine.”
As Sarah clasped the locket around her neck, a gentle warmth seemed to fill the room. Joel noticed a soft, iridescent glow forming in the air, gradually taking shape. His heart skipped a beat as he saw what seemed to be a delicate butterfly, its wings shimmering with a myriad of colors that danced in the light.
The butterfly hovered for a moment, almost as if it were assessing its surroundings, before it gracefully fluttered over to Sarah and Joel. It landed gently on Sarah’s shoulder, its tiny wings fluttering in a serene, almost ethereal manner.
Sarah’s eyes widened in awe as she reached out a trembling hand. The butterfly, with its captivating, almost familiar patterns, seemed to radiate a gentle, comforting presence. Joel stood beside her, his tears now mingled with a profound sense of wonder and calm.
“It’s her,” Joel said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. “It’s really her.”
Sarah’s face lit up with a smile, her earlier sadness replaced by a serene joy. “Mom,” she said quietly, her eyes fixed on the butterfly. “It’s like she’s here with us.”
Joel nodded, his heart swelling with emotion. “She’s always with us, in every moment, in every memory. This is her way of reminding us that she’s never truly gone.”
The butterfly remained perched on Sarah’s shoulder for a few more moments before it gently took flight, circling the room in a graceful dance. It finally settled on a nearby windowsill, where it continued to flutter its wings, casting a soft glow in the dim light.
Sarah and Joel watched in awe, their smiles reflecting the profound connection they felt in that moment. The butterfly, with its vibrant colors and delicate grace, was a symbol of the love and presence that transcended time and space.
As the butterfly eventually fluttered away into the night, leaving a trail of shimmering light behind, Joel wrapped his arm around Sarah, pulling her into a warm embrace. “She’s always here, with us,” Joel said softly. “And we’ll carry her memory with us, every day.”
Sarah hugged her father tightly, her heart full of the love and comfort that the butterfly had symbolized. “I know,” she whispered. “And I’ll keep this locket close to remind me of her.”
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stormz369 · 2 months ago
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☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 11
Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader
written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!
warnings/labels: angst, little to no comfort yet
wc: 2.2k
Chapter Selection
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Dick: heeeyyyy Jay?
4:03pm
Dick: … Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay??? Bruce is asking questions about your relationship.
4:45pm
Jason: And I'm ignoring them.
4:56pm
Dick: Well don't! It's important.
4:57pm
Jason: Not possible. It's not his relationship.
5:02pm
Dick: Look, I know you don't like sharing details with us, but Bruce is wondering how serious this is. Like … is she coming to the next Wayne Foundation Gala? Should we expect her at Christmas? Are you gonna tell her about your night job? These are things we kinda need to know
5:10pm
Jason: First of all, I'm not going to the next gala, so why would she? Second, it is way too early in the year to be worrying about Christmas.
5:15pm
Dick: … And the job?
5:25pm
Jason: … When do you tell someone something like that? We've only been together for a few months, but at the same time we've been together for /months/. It simultaneously feels too early and too late…
5:29pm
Dick: Yeah … you're asking the wrong guy, dude. I've only ever dated people “in the business” as it were … Tim might have some insights on that one.
5:31pm
Jason: Yeah, that's not happening.
5:38pm
Dick: Which leads us back to TALK TO BRUCE.
5:40pm
Dick: … DON'T YOU LEAVE ME ON READ YOU LITTLE SHIT!
6:30pm
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Bruce: Call me
8:30am
Bruce: Jason, I just have a few questions for you.
9:30am
Bruce: Jason!
10:45am
Jason: Jesus Christ, B! Dick told me about your questions, I don't know what you want me to say! I have no answers for you, ok? This is all new, just let me figure it out!
10:50am
Bruce: As long as you're considering how best to approach the situation. I'm sure you realize you do not want someone else to tell her these things before you have the opportunity to. If you are serious about this relationship, sooner will be better than later.
11:02am
Jason: Believe me, I know. My worst nightmare is her finding out because some asshole tries to kidnap her. I know that us being together puts a target on her back, and if she doesn't know it's there she's at even greater risk. I know all this. It will be handled soon.
11:30am
Bruce: … That sounds pretty final; are you planning on ending things before something goes wrong?
11:41am
Jason: That would be the smart thing. The selfless thing. And I've considered it, I really have. … But I just can't. I don't want to. Can't I have just one good thing? Just this one, and I'll never ask the universe for anything else.
11:50am
Bruce: Jason, of course you can have good things! … But you need to find a way to tell her, before circumstance takes the choice from you.
11:58am
Jason: Working on it
12:04pm
Bruce: Good. We'll see you both at the gala next month then.
12:09pm
Jason: I think the fuck not!
12:10pm
Bruce: It's your turn, you have to come. And if you think that girl doesn't want to be shown off on your arm we'll need to revisit your training, because your observation skills are slipping.
12:15pm
Jason: … This kind of thing is exactly why I didn't want to introduce her to the family.
12:19pm
Bruce: Is it so hard to buy your girl a dress and spin her around the dance floor a few times?
12:30pm
Jason: If any of those socialites flirt with her I won't be held responsible for my actions.
12:33pm
Bruce: You will not threaten, attack, or arrange an attack on anyone at the gala.
12:37pm
Jason: Of course not
12:40pm
Bruce: That includes after they leave, Jason!
12:43pm
Jason: … Damnit.
12:50pm
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“Thank god you got the security system in place, huh?” she chuckled a bit mirthlessly as they watched the news. The night before, Jason had installed new security measures around her apartment; better windows with strong locks -and bullet proof glass, but she didn’t know that-, motion detecting cameras on the balcony and front door, and stronger locks on both doors. Perfect timing too, because Bane’s escape from Arkham had just been announced. 
Jason pulled her closer, stroking her back, and kissed her forehead. “Not gonna let anything happen to you baby. You just stay inside for a few days, ok?”
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders; “can’t. Gotta go to work tomorrow…”
“... Please don’t. … Please, I’ll take care of your rent, just don’t go out there until the bats have him back in Arkham.”
She looked up at his face, frowning a bit. “Jay, we can’t let them hold us hostage in our own homes. He could be out for months, it’s happened before. Hell, if he doesn’t do anything immediately and someone else starts making trouble, he could be loose for years before they get around to him. Besides, it’s not like you’re not going to work while he’s out.”
This was it. This was the moment; he was going to tell her. The only reason he was going to work was because his work was putting Bane back in Arkham. Say it. Say it right now. … She needs to know, just say it. This is the moment… Maybe she’ll stay inside if she knows, then she’ll be safe. Say it. …
“... then … let me take you to work? And pick you up at the end of your shift too.”
“... Just for a few days.” She nodded, kissing his cheek.
He sighed, stroking her shoulder, and held her close. … Coward.
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A week later they were sitting on the floor in her apartment, legs crossed, knees touching, both wearing short sleeve shirts. Jason's wrists were resting on his knees, so she could see his arms. He refused to look in her eyes; this was too awkward.
The point was to slowly get him acclimated to the idea that she was a safe person to show his scars to. His forearms had some of his less gruesome scars, mostly cuts and a few old burns, and he was already less uncomfortable with her touching him there, so it seemed like the most reasonable place to start. She gently squeezed his hands, looking down at them. Not touching yet, just sitting with the fact that they were there.
“... Can I ask how you got them?”
This was it. This was the moment; he had to tell her now. Tell her. Tell her where they came from. Tell her what you do. Do it. Right now… 
“... Um … well, …”
He was trying to find the right words, how to start this conversation. But all she saw was hesitation. So she squeezed his hands, smiling gently; “it's ok if you're not ready.”
It really wasn't. He knew it wasn't; she deserved the truth, she needed the truth, and she needed it soon. But it felt like too big of a thing to just say all of a sudden, and it was so easy to accept the easy out. He squeezed her hands back, smiling weakly.
“... I love you.” Just give him a little longer, he silently begged the universe; he'd tell her soon, just not today. Give him a little longer.
“I love you too, Jay~” God, how he hoped that would still be true when he finally told her…
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“What do you think?” She spun on the pedestal, showing off a green dress. Jason and Steph had taken her to get a gown for the gala; Jason would have been happy for it to be just the two of them, but she insisted she needed a girl's opinion too.
Steph grinned. “I love that silhouette on you. … But the color ….” She waved her hand in a ‘so-so’ motion.
“What's wrong with the color?” She frowned, looking down at herself.
“Nothing, you look beautiful.” Jason smiled softly.
“But it'll look like Christmas!” Steph exclaimed.
She tilted her head, frowning. “Christmas?”
Steph nodded emphatically; “Jason only has one tie for these events, and it's red!”
“Oh! Well then I need a red dress!” She grinned, gathering up the skirt and running for the changing room. “I wish you had the tie with you to compare …”
“I can find a picture!” Steph grinned, going through her Waynebook photos.
Jason blinked a bit, not fully sure what was happening. “... Y- … huh? … you wanna wear red?”
She reemerged, grinning; “Of course; I want everyone in that room to know at a glance that I'm your girl~”  He blushed bright red, letting her take his hand and pull him toward a selection of red dresses. Steph smirked a bit, following along to help find a few dresses that would match his tie nicely. 
She blushed brightly and giggled at the soft groan that emanated from Jason's throat when she came out in a dress with a high slit and off the shoulder sleeves. Steph smirked; “That sounds like a yes to me.”
“Hmm…” She shifted and squirmed a bit in front of the mirror, frowning at her reflection. “I dunno about this one…”
Jason stood behind her, offering her his hands. “Why not? You look incredible…”
She blushed more, taking them. They stood in the mirror, him behind her and to the side a bit, her hands resting in his like he was leading her onto the dance floor. “I dunno, … the slit is really high, and the off the shoulder sleeves sit in a way that draws attention to my arm fat…”
Jason frowned, gently squeezing her hands. “And?”
She chuckled a bit, looking at his face in the mirror. “What do you mean ‘and’?”
“You're gorgeous. If anyone tries to tell you otherwise it's because they're jealous of how effortlessly beautiful you are. You're going to be the most stunning girl at that entire stupid gala. Really, getting to see you outshine all those hoity-toity-stick-up-their-ass bitches is going to make it worth going.” The sincerity on his face almost made her believe it. She giggled, turning toward him. 
“... I haven't danced since P.E. in middle school…”
“We'll practice. Come on, let's practice.” He gently guided her away from the mirror. He guided her hand to his shoulder, then held his hand by her side, hovering a bit. “Can I touch?”
She nodded, grinning, and his hand finally rested against her side, gently guiding her in a simple waltz. Neither of them was particularly graceful, but Jason had the most basic steps memorized from years of being forced to attend Wayne functions. They stared into each other's eyes, mesmerized by the adoration and security they found in each other.
The trance was broken by Stephanie's coos of; “Aww, you two are adorable~”
Jason cleared his throat, smiling softly. “So … this dress?”
She looked in the mirror again, fanning out the skirt a bit. “... You like it that much?” He nodded, unable to tear his eyes off her, and she grinned. “Ok, this one then.”
Steph spent the next hour helping her find shoes that she'd be able to walk and dance in before they were finally able to check out.
That night at her place, Jason offered her a plate and kissed her cheek. She was, inexplicably, excited about the gala, she had fun picking out a dress, and now he was going to butter her up even further with her favorite dinner. She beamed, leaning into the kiss, and blinked in surprise as he sat behind her, gently pulling her to lean against his chest. 
“... Babe?”
He hummed softly. “Yeah?”
“... You're … this is good?”
He nodded, arms wrapped around her waist, and kissed her shoulder. “This is good. Eat up~”
She grinned, trying not to vibrate with excitement, and ate happily. “Mh~ it's perfect~ thank you~”
“Of course~” Everything was falling into place. It had been a perfect day. There was no way she could be angry that he'd kept this from her for so long, right? She'd forgive him. She'd understand, and she'd love him anyway. She would… right?
Although, maybe he shouldn't be sitting so close when he told her. If it scared her, she might think him being behind her was a threat. And with him touching her like this, she was trapped against him. He didn't want her to feel trapped. He needed to find a casual way to let go of her, and get to the other side of the room so she would know she was safe when he told her … but he was so comfortable here … maybe just one more minute like this. 
… Besides, it was better not to ruin her dinner. … Actually, maybe he shouldn't do it today. He didn't want her to associate the meal with this news, after all. Plus, they had the gala coming up, if she was upset she'd feel beholden to him, to go together even if she was upset. He didn't want that. No, maybe he should do it after the gala. 
… Yeah, after the gala…
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Next ->
Divider by: @saradika-graphics
Taglist (open):
@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus
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moirasdolly · 4 months ago
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˚ ⋆゚୨୧ Vampire Heart ୨୧ ˚ ⋆゚ Arlecchino x Fem Reader
Synopsis: You lay out your whole past for Arlecchino and bare your soul. It gives the other woman even more of a reason to help you get healthy again, and even offer you a permanent home with her. Of course you agree, but as you live together you begin to find little secrets Arlecchino is keeping.
Contains: NSFW (men and minors dni), graphic depictions of blood sucking, hurt/comfort (only slight angst).
Listening to ♪ ིྀ: Rosemary - Deftones
Previous Chapter: 1
Notes: Yes yes yes I know I’ve written her to have very cliche vampiric traits but that’s what a vampire fic is all aboutttt! Like yes she has to carry an umbrella in the sunlight and yesss she lives in a gothic mansion and yesssssssss she’s secretive and strange, but anyway I enjoyed writing this chapter so much <3 I love this fic so far and I hope yall do too
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❤︎ Chapter 2: Understanding
By the time you woke up the next morning it was still raining. To your surprise of course, you would have thought after the heavy showers from last night, it would have been calmer by now. You groaned softly as you shifted in the large bed you had been resting in for the night. Your body felt incredibly weak and it felt like a chore to even adjust your position. Your sleepy, doe eyes scanned the room for the woman who had taken you in, but there was no sign of her, admittedly you felt a pang of guilt in your heart when you realized she had probably slept somewhere else once you fell asleep. You felt horrible for intruding on her privacy and even taking her bed to sleep in for the night.
You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t even noticed the tall woman enter the room. “What thoughts are in that pretty little head of yours, hm?” She hummed upon stepping in. Your eyes widen ever so slightly at the sight of her. She no longer donned her sleek attire from the previous night, but instead she was dressed in a long, black nightgown. The top framed her breasts in delicate black lace and dark silk cascaded down the rest of her body, all the way down to her ankles. Rendered speechless for a moment, you blinked at her before registering what she had asked you. You cleared your throat to play off the fact that you were indeed staring her down. “I just feel bad… you’ve already done so much for me, but I can’t do much to make it up to you since I’m still sick.” You sigh before trying to sit up before making a pathetic noise of struggle and falling back down onto the bed.
She watched in amusement as you put on such a sad display and just shook her head slowly. Her light footsteps carried her to you before she bent down at the waist to loom closer to you. You tried to keep your eyes on hers, but even in your feverish, sickly state, you still found time to look at the way the neckline of her dress hung down, exposing her cleavage to you. If she noticed, she didn't say anything and instead placed a gloved hand on your chin and tilted it up to meet her gaze. “I’m sorry…” You mumbled out realizing you don’t even have a name to match the beautiful face. “Arlecchino.” She states simply, and you give her your name in return. “There is no need to repay me for anything, I just wish to see you healthy again.” You furrow your brows slightly, confused at why she was being so kind to you. “But… I don’t understand. I’m completely causing a disturbance for you and taking up space in your private home.” A frown had been creeping on your soft lips.
Instead of standing beside the bed she had taken a seat beside you by now and was keeping her gloved grip on you. It was odd she had gloves on, but again, you ignored it just like every other odd little detail about you. “Little doe, if I thought you were a burden it would have been made clear by now.” She whispered into your ear before pulling back to study you. Her eyes raked over your hair that suited your features perfectly, your blushed cheeks and slightly dewy skin from the fever, and your body… She wondered how cute you were under that long dress of yours as well. Oh how she wished she could slide her hands under to find out. She knew she’d have the chance once you were well again though. She noticed how silent you were for a moment and decided to fill the space with her own words. “So, what were you doing out there in the middle of the night? Don’t you know what dangers lurk deep in the woods late at night?” She moved her hand to soothe over your hair gently. 
You knew she would eventually want to know what you were doing out there, but you thought she’d wait a bit longer before asking. There was really no point in hiding it though since she seemed like a no-nonsense type of woman. She also intrigued you in a way that made you want to spill your heart out to her, you didn’t know why though. A sigh pushed its way past your lips and you turned your head away from her. You didn’t want to be facing her just in case you started to tear up, the wounds were still fresh after all. She tutted slightly before gently guiding your gaze to her once more, “Eyes on me, doe.” The pet name tumbled from her lips so easily it almost made you melt. You nodded slowly before retelling your story and how your parents wanted to marry you off to a man twice your age.
“They never cared for me as I was the middle child.” You mention. “Not old enough to be the responsible example set for the younger ones, and not young enough to be the perfectly adorable youngest daughter.” I sniffled slightly as the tears began to fall. “They just wanted to toss me away so they could get a fortune off of me.” You try to turn your head away again, but when you look up at Arlecchino you catch a glimpse of something on her face that you can’t quite discern. Her brows were furrowed and she looked like if you spoke of your family anymore she’d snap. “I’m sorry if I said too much.” You say finally after a beat of silence, you had misread her expression for annoyance with you rather than your pathetic excuse of a family. “Never apologize for feeling.” Arlecchino says quickly, wanting to dispel any ill thoughts she thought you might have. “Your family should be the ones apologizing for treating someone like you so terribly.” She spat out, her voice full of venom for the ones who did you wrong. She surprised you and her own self with how much emotion she was feeling for you in such a short span of time. “I apologize for raising my voice, dear, but it is completely unacceptable.”
Your heart was almost beating out of your chest, and perhaps it was because you had never received this type of care before, but you liked how strongly she felt about how you were treated. “Thank you for listening and taking me in. It means everything to me… I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t stumbled into you.” I might have even gone back home, you thought to yourself. Of course you didn’t say it because the taller woman would have gone into a rant on why you would be a fool to do that. “Well, you’re free to seek shelter and companionship here with me for as long as you’d like.” Her deep voice is sincere, and it sends butterflies straight to your tummy. “I want to stay.” You blurted out before averting your eyes. Embarrassment was present on your face as you blushed even deeper than you already had been. Your eyes snapped back to her once a soft chuckle rumbled in her throat. “I see,” she starts before letting her fingers smoothe over your hair once more, “now rest up, little doe. You had a rough night and your fever isn’t improving at all. Call for me and I’ll be here to help you.” You nod your head, not trusting your voice to properly reply, and just like that she vanishes out of the room. You almost wished she had given you a kiss on the forehead, or any sort of affection, but you knew that was just your touch-starved mind running wild, and you decided to let yourself sleep more since it was still early in the day.
-
For the past week you had been in Arlecchino’s care and she was nothing less than attentive. Everytime you groaned about your head hurting she would be there with a cold washcloth and pain medicine for you. If you felt too cold, she’d be there with blankets, and if you were too hot she’d be there with remedies to cool you down. And even though she was highly attentive, it felt like she was a bit secretive. During the day she spent her time chatting with you, taking care of you and if you were resting she busied herself with her own affairs. When she thought you were asleep for the night she would leave the house into the dark, misty forest and return several hours later. On the occasions that she left during the day, she was always fully covered with a dark colored umbrella, and all these things were starting to make you question her. You didn’t want to prod at her too much though, so you asked simple questions such as, “Where are you off to?” or, “I heard the door late last night, what was that?” She would always answer your questions vaguely, explaining she was going out to do business with someone or running errands, but she never came home with anything, so you felt she was lying to you.
Your fever had lasted an awful long time and only after a little less than a month were you beginning to feel well again. You were able to wander through her home now and explore every little detail of it. She gave you a full tour eventually and you were in awe of how beautiful it was. She had an old library with an extensive collection of novels in it that you had no problem indulging in whenever you were bored or if Arlecchino was out. On one particular night she was gone longer than usual, and you had already finished the book you had been reading all day. You were growing bored of reading and you weren’t sure what else to do until she came home again so you decided a little snooping wouldn’t hurt.
When she toured her home for you there were a few places she either brushed past or outright stated were off limits, and as much as the latter was interested you, you didn’t want to be an absolute pest and break her trust. Instead you wandered to the old, dark wood desk Arlecchino had in the corner of her library. You ran your fingertips over the smooth wood before sauntering around the corner to sit in the chair. It was quite comfortable, and maybe you’d take advantage of it in the future if you ever wanted to write or journal at the desk. There were compartments on either side and you jiggled each of them, and to no surprise they were locked. All with the exception of one. She must have forgotten to lock it last time she was in there. You opened it slowly to reveal a black leather booklet. You brought it to the desk and examined it carefully. It opened up easily, and there was no dust in sight, so she must have been using it recently.
The first page was signed by a name you didn’t quite recognize and you wondered who this “Peruere” person was. The first entries detailed quite a mundane life, and you flipped the pages quickly until something caught your eye. The dates that had been signed at the beginning of each entry were from 1832. You wondered what Arlecchino was doing with an old diary from so long ago, but you didn’t have time to dwell because you heard the front door open and close swiftly. It seemed as if she had other business to attend to before coming upstairs to meet you. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding when you realized you wouldn’t get caught. Footsteps ascended  up the steps and you knew the first place she would check was in here. You quickly made sure the diary was returned to the correct drawer  before snatching a random book off of the shelf behind you and reclining in your seat at the desk. You tried to make yourself familiar with the plot of the book you were reading just in case the older woman asked you about it. You were halfway through a random page in the book before she had entered. She was surprised to not see you in your usual chair that you had taken a liking to.
She called out your name gently, but loud enough for it to fill up the large library with her deep voice. “Over here!” You called out to her, and she was there in no time. “ Ah, dear, what are you doing over here?” She questioned, slightly confused as to why you’d choose to sit at this old desk rather than the plush, spacious chair she had arranged for you. “I dunno. I was just wanting to read something from this section, but I didn't feel like walking back over there….” Arlecchino studied your features to see if there was any indication that you were lying, and once she was satisfied she hummed softly. “Very well. I brought home a meal for us, I don’t know if you have eaten yet though, my apologies for being gone so late.” She extends her hand to yours and whisks you out of your seat and close to her side. You shake your head as a no, and she leads you into the dining room, but not before she spares a glance back at the desk you were sitting at.
 It was nothing too fancy, but she had brought home your favorite soup and bread to pair with it. Your mouth watered at the sight and you turn to hug her, but you stop yourself, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. The only physical touch had only been initiated by her, so you didn’t want to cross any boundaries.
She softened slightly at your cute behavior and pat you on your head gently. “Eat well, I already ate while I was out, but I wanted to bring extra for you since I recall you liked this dish when I made it for you from scratch.” Your eyes fluttered shut as you giggled softly. Arlecchino truly did take care of you so much that she had begun to notice your favorite foods in the short month you had been staying there. “Thank you Arle, you are the best.” You say softly before taking a seat and digging in. Your belly was full and warm by the time you finished and you felt yourself feeling a bit tired already. Granted it was pretty late at night and you always felt a bit sleepy after eating. You lean back in your chair before eventually taking your dirty dishes to the sink. Once they were cleaned and dried, both you and Arlecchino parted ways to get ready for slumber. 
About 40 minutes later and you were freshly showered and adorned in a sweet little night gown that didn’t leave much to the imagination. You had your own room now in her home and you had made it entirely yours. It was filled to the brim with pink, frilly, princess like decor that contrasted nicely with the dark walls and gothic light fixtures. Arlecchino had made it easy for you to get everything you wanted and you had questioned just how wealthy she was, but you weren’t complaining at all. You heard two knocks on the other side of your door, and you were giddy for Arlecchino to see you in the slip dress you were wearing. “Come in!” Your honey-like voice rang out and the other women entered the room. She was wearing the same black slip dress from the first morning when you woke up in her home and your eyes wandered all over her just like the first time. The glances were mutual apparently because Arlecchino was looking you over as well, but there was no hiding her gaze. Her intense eyes were focused on you, and only you. If you played your cards right, you would be in for a long night.
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sapphicjackal · 4 months ago
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Bingyuan Soulmate au 3
Part 1 Part 2
Shen Yuan was overjoyed now that he had made contact with his Soulmate at last. Binghe was absolutely precious. The burst of his emotions written into his words were all so genuine and adoring. Once Binghe knew that they were soulmates, he all but bloomed into an adorable white lotus. The way he writes in a more formal and archaic dialect is charming, especially since it’s paired with the calligraphy brush he consistently uses. Shen Yuan finds his quirks overwhelmingly cute.
They had only known each other for two days, but Shen Yuan was working out something of a pattern for Binghe’s messages. He would wake up well before Shen Yuan, leaving a message on his wrist like Shen Yuan has done for years. Then Binghe will be busy for the rest of the day until late at night.
Maybe he works on a farm? 
Shen Yuan tried to picture an adorable (because there’s no way that Binghe isn’t the cutest thing in existence) child waking up with the sun to work on a farm. Shen Yuan doesn’t really know what work is done on a farm. It would probably be a lot of manual labor. Binghe’s too young to be working all day!
What if he’s one of those kids stuck in a sweatshop forced to do labor?
The thought of it breaks Shen Yuan’s heart, and fills him with protective fury.
His soulmate is a lot younger than him, so Shen Yuan has been trying to keep the conversation more shallow to protect his soulmate’s privacy and safety. However, he’s getting the feeling that Binghe isn’t in a great situation. 
Not knowing about soulmates indicates a level of isolation and deliberate ignorance. Being illiterate at 10 implies a level of disenfranchisement. The long hours that Binghe keeps where he’s too occupied to talk. Those emotions of fragile hope and loneliness that undercurrent some of his words.
Something is wrong, and Shen Yuan should address it sooner rather than later.
“Bing-er could you tell me where you live?” Shen Yuan writes during the afternoon, knowing Binghe will likely respond later that night. He keeps imparts emotions of curiosity, concern, and care, hoping Binghe will feel safe enough to tell him, even if they hadn’t known each other long.
He had to wait a few hours but finally he felt the tingle of a brush dragging across his skin. 
“This Binghe is a disciple of Cang Qiong Mountain’s Qing Jing Peak” Binghe wrote. Shen Yuan stared blankly at the words. He would doubt them, but he can feel the truth in the words. 
Soulmates can tell when the other is lying, because the communication is between two souls that are linked together. Soulmates can lie to each other verbally, but words written on skin can only be true to the soul, if they’re dishonest then your soulmate can tell.
Shen Yuan pulled up his phone and looked up Qing Jing Peak, not expecting anything to come up. He was surprised to get results. However the results were to a web page of a relatively new Web novel called <Proud Immortal Demon Way> which only has 4 published chapters.
Shen Yuan read the summary in disbelief, his eyes skimming over it before reading it over and over again to make sure he got it right. The main character’s name is Luo Binghe, named after the river that his washerwoman adoptive mother found him floating in after being abandoned in a basket on the coldest day of winter. 
Shen Yuan didn’t understand what was happening. He didn’t think that Binghe was lying, their bond would tell him. Why would Binghe introduce himself as a character in a web novel that had barely started and had practically no audience. It made no sense.
None of this makes sense.
Shen Yuan can feel the tingle of a brush on his arm, Binghe must be wondering why he was taking so long to reply. Shen Yuan decided to read <Proud Immortal Demon Way> tomorrow during the day while Binghe is busy. He wouldn’t ask any questions that could make Binghe think that he doubted him. Shen Yuan just knows that it would shatter Binghe’s heart.
“Yuan-ge?” Binghe had written, light impatience mixed with a hint of nervousness and hopeful anticipation.
Shen Yuan decides to just go along with whatever Binghe says. No need to contradict him.
“I’m not a part of any sect. How do you find Qing Jing Peak?” Shen Yuan asked.
This time it was Binghe who took a long time to respond.
“This one likes Qing Jing Peak. Qing Jing Peak does not like this Binghe.” Binghe says, his words carry with them the faintest amount of bitterness, with a stronger mixture of sorrow, pain, and loneliness. The words feel like a whispered confession, like a truth too terrible to speak aloud. It feels vulnerable and painful raw in its honesty.
Shen Yuan’s heart hurts with the words. He has gotten so used to Binghe’s overwhelming vibrance, it makes it all the more clear how achingly diminished he feels in those words. All the brewing heartache that’s being exposed.
Shen Yuan glances at the summary page for a web novel, seeing the tags that promise a revenge story and power fantasy. It’s exactly the type of web novel that Shen Yuan likes to read. He pushes away all of his confusion and doubts to focus on what’s important, Binghe.
“I don’t know how anyone could not like Luo Binghe.” Shen Yuan writes, soaking the words with protective anger and overflowing adoration. Binghe is a good boy. Binghe deserves the world. Shen Yuan has only had him for 3 days but if anything happened to Luo Binghe, Shen Yuan would kill everybody in the world and then himself. 
“Yuan-ge!” Binghe writes, joy tinged lightly with heartache.
Shen Yuan changed the subject to instead ask about what Binghe was learning. Binghe told him that Qing Jing Peak was a Peak of scholars and that he was meant to learn the 4 Arts. However he wasn’t allowed into the classes with the other disciples and he was told to do chores instead of cultivating. 
It filled Shen Yuan with indignation. 
“I don’t know if my education holds up to Qing Jing Peak standards, but I have been learning the Four Arts. I’ll teach you whatever I can.” Shen Yuan wrote. He began trying to think of the best ways to teach the subjects with limited space and an inability to actually demonstrate in person. It would be difficult, but written instruction could hopefully help Binghe in some way.
“Thank you Yuan-ge!” Binghe wrote enthusiastically, filled with anticipation and hope. His brush strokes were messier than usual with his giddiness. 
Shen Yuan smiled at his arm. He had been thinking about becoming a teacher after he found tutoring his meimei to be enjoyable. Maybe this could be like his test? He’ll take this seriously, only the best for his Binghe. 
That means that Shen Yuan will have to do deep research into the four arts to expand his knowledge, and also work on putting together lesson plans. He should also look into teaching methods. (Not to mention the fact that his soulmate might just be the protagonist of a xianxia novel, a fact he was studiously putting out of mind and out of sight, meaning he should also research cultivation type settings.)
The bottom line is that his soulmate needs help, and after 15 years of waiting, Shen Yuan is prepared to do anything for his soulmate.
Part 4
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danieyells · 6 months ago
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Rui mizuki’s lines from Tokyo debunker if you haven’t yet PLEASE I will love you for all eternity
They’re edging me with the rui crumbs every chapter I can’t take it anymore
One flirty reaper coming right up!! And by right up i mean almost a week after you asked hhahaha
BUT YEAH WE DO GET A LITTLE OF HIM HERE AND THERE i wonder why he pops up so much. Especially for someone who allegedly tries not to be around other people much due to his deadly touch? Kinda sus--
also this is the first time i've posted all of someone's lines! not that i don't always end up posting 95% of them anyway, but for some reason some of Rui's were ordered weird(they're normally not entirely in order but they're usually sectioned properly, but for some reason one of his affinity chats was way in the wrong place) and I ended up closely paying attention to which one i was looking at and before i knew it i posted all of them lmao. . . .
Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)
"{PC}, hey! Here's to another day vibing our way through curse twin life!"
You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)
"Huh? Did you know you've got unread messages? Oh, that's why you've been leaving me on delivered! Ahaha!"
no that's just because my adhd makes me hyperfocus on things and it refuses to allow me to attempt to allot attention or energy to things it deems me not having enough attention span or energy or time for and i'm sorry--
Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)
"Aw c'mon Ed, again? Why does he always leave his socks on the floor... It's actually exhausting picking up after him all the time..."
lazy sloppy vampire lol
"You look kind of tired {PC}, you doing okay? Why don't you stop by the bar later? I can be your shoulder to cry on."
"Hey! You on break now? If you're super nice and you're gonna come chill with me now, put your hands up!"
"{PC}...were you just checking me out? Hey, it's all good, don't be embarrassed!"
"Oof, Ed popped out of nowhere so I accidentally touched him and he died again. Now I have to carry him all the way back to the dorm..."
i love the face he makes when he says this lmao like he is so tired of Ed's carelessness!
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Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)
"{PC}! Did you come here to see me first thing? No way! You just made my day!"
Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)
"Aw c'mon, Ed, what are you doing sleeping out here? Didn't you just take a nap, old man? You're gonna catch a cold!"
Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)
"Oh hey, it's {PC}! Can't believe I ran into you here, so random! Guess we've gotta go on a date now, huh? It's like, written in the stars!"
i love flirty characters like rui lolol just. there's always More Going On there. and Rui starts off with More right off the bat.
Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)
"I can touch the plants as long as I have gloves on! I mean yeah, I'm pretty sure the same goes for people, but don't you think it'd be scary to test it out?"
Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)
"Come swing by the bar later! I'd rather watch a pretty face like yours while I work instead of a bunch of drunk guys."
Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)
"What? Ed was praising my good looks? I mean he's right, right? People always tell me my face is my only redeeming feature!"
but rui works so hard!? who's saying that!!
Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)
"Oh sorry, I don't do the whole class thing! You go, I'm all good here!"
Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)
"Ouch! Aw man, that rose thorn just scratched my arm... Wait, nooo! My rose bushes are wilting!!"
it's so easy for him to accidentally kill anything lmaoooo
Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)
"Are you out here by yourself, {PC}? Isn't that like not super dangerous? ...Wait, did that make sense? Whatever, let me walk you back!"
Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)
"Sorry! A drunk customer broke a glass, so I'm cleaning it up! Everyone's a little pent-up lately, I guess."
Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)
"Watering plants in the AM is such a mood lift, right? Whoa, everything's blooming like crazy out here! Better get my pruning shears."
it's a testament to how well he takes care of these plants that they grow super well in permanently-night Obscuary, i think. 8'D
Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)
"Huh? Look, you've got loose threads on your uniform. Give it to me, I'll fix it for you!"
Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)
"Hey, {PC}, did you eat yet? My door's always open! You can just stay the night after!"
damn already inviting you to stay over at affinity 13--just don't share the bed, you'll wake up super dead
Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)
"(yawn) Wow, I am dead tired... but I've gotta take a shower, make breakfast, and do the laundry before those two sleepyheads get up."
it takes a real man to be a single mother. . . .
Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)
"Oh hey, what's your poison? Wait, I mean, morning! Man, I tried to take my friend's drink order when we were hanging out yesterday too, occupational hazard I guess."
Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)
"A mission? I'm good, thanks though! Oh hey, you should invite Lyca! He'd totally be into that!"
Lyca also probably needs them to pass the grade lol
Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)
"No way, look at the time! Wish I could keep listening to you talk... Wanna stay over?"
Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)
"Oh man, I'm sorry! I'm closing early, I've got plans with a friend tonight. It'd be awesome if you could come by tomorrow!"
Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)
"Congrats on making it through another day, {PC}! I seriously admire you for working so hard. You're not doing this all for me, are you?"
Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)
"Morning! Whoa, you wanna help me with the housework, {PC}? It's all good, thanks though! The thought's more than enough for me."
c'mon, refusing help at affinity 20? let the pc be your little helper at least!
Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)
"Obscuary looks like it'd be full of downers, but it's actually pretty lively in there, right? Not gonna lie, I def prefer it that way."
Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)
"Lyca's an open book, but the flip side is he says the darndest things... I feel like watching him is bad for my heart..."
he talks so much about his teammates, he really is such a mom. . . .
Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)
"My eyes are red? Huh, that's weird... Oh yeah, I was cutting onions just now when I was preparing the appetizers for the bar!"
. . .idk this is pretty high affinity. . .you were crying about something weren't you rui. . .or romeo paid you in weed and you were getting tweaked up in the back of the bar
Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)
"Oh, don't worry about me, I always sleep late! I'm down to chat till you drift off to dreamland."
Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)
"Sometimes I wish I could've met you as a regular guy. I guess you wouldn't have given me the time of day if I had though, ahaha."
is it just me or. . .does it feel like he gets a little more distant as his affinity gets higher? like after affinity 17 it feels like he gets a little less flirty and a little more at arms length. . .like he knows his feelings are getting so strong that he might not be able to resist touching you, but he's too scared to do it even with the gloves on. . .so he tries to keep you a little further away. . .and then he admits it, he wishes he could be with you like a normal person, but if he were just some flirt in the street none of this would have ever happened. Poor Rui, he's cursed to be beloved but unable to give love how he wants in return.
Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)
"Oh man, so nice... The weather's like perfect this time of year, right? Wish we could just chill like this forever."
(between 11am and 4pm)
"Man, you wouldn't even know it was spring with how bleak it is in Obscuary! Aren't there any cuter anomalous plants out there?"
(between 4pm and 8pm)
"I feel like Ed's getting more senile every day... Maybe I should confiscate his tablet."
(between 8pm and 5am)
"So, what do you think of my spring-inspired cocktail? Almost as cute as you, right? I'm gonna add it to the menu!"
Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)
"C'mon! It's summer, how can the sun never rise in Obscuary!? I wanna get a tan!"
(between 11am and 4pm)
"It's not summer if you don't hit the beach! I used to go all the time back when I surfed. And then I'd pick up girls on my way home... Just kidding, I promise!"
why 'just kidding' lolol you're not together! this relationship is not monogamous even if you were!
(between 4pm and 8pm)
"Ta-da! I've got sparklers! Fireworks are fun and all, but there's something special about holding a light that only sparkles for a hot moment."
(between 8pm and 5am)
"It's so hot out, I bet the bar's gonna be a ghost town... Guess I'll send Harurin and Romi a PR message!"
reaching out to the local population of alcoholic ghouls to remind them to give him business lol
Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)
"There's so many dead leaves this time of year, it's a nightmare keeping on top of them! But you can use them to make a fire and roast stuff. Gotta look on the brights!"
(between 11am and 4pm)
"Hey {PC}, when are you free? I have a date idea for us—a romantic walk to admire the fall leaves! I'll pack us a lunch!"
(between 4pm and 8pm)
"Oh damn! You look so cute all bundled up like that, {PC}! We've gotta take a selfie together!"
direct contrast to romeo who sees you in winterwear and calls you a fat slug kekw
(between 8pm and 5am)
"That piano anomaly makes the soundtrack for the bar! The song picks really tug at the heartstrings, right?"
Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)
"You're a little late today, huh? If you can't get up in the cold, I could be your alarm!"
just gotta be really loud since he'd be too afraid to touch you awake, since he actually wants you to y'know wake up--
(between 11am and 4pm)
"Oh man, how is Lyca so full of energy when it's this cold? You should take him to Frostheim and see if he runs around in the snow like a puppy."
rui pointing at lyca: that dog is my son please take care of him
(between 4pm and 8pm)
"Nothing like winter to make you miss the warmth of human touch... Oh, I'm good! Just getting to talk like this is all I need!"
BBY WE ARE ALL BUNDLED UP. YOU CAN HUG YOU'VE BOTH PROBABLY GOT ON AT LEAST TWO LAYERS JUST DON'T TOUCH FACES.
(between 8pm and 5am)
"Here, this Rui-original hot cocktail will warm you up! I'll blow on it for you, free of charge!"
is this the next step after gamer bathwater. host club host breath.
His birthday: (March 14th)
"Yeah, it's my birthday today! Oh damn, you're gonna celebrate it with me!? No way, I'm like, super touched right now!!"
Your birthday:
"{PC}... Happy birthday!! C'mon, birthday girl, sit down and chill out! This is your day, you should take it easy!"
New Years: (January 1st)
"Happy New Year! Want to start the year off on a high and come on a shrine date with me?"
Valentine's Day: (February 14th)
"Oh damn, are these for me? My heart! Is this your way of professing your love to me? Do I have a shot here?"
White Day: (March 14th)
"Ta-da! Happy White Day! This is for you! What's inside? You've gotta open it and find out!"
April Fool's Day: (April 1st)
"Guess what!? I finally broke my curse! Let's hold hands... just kidding! April Fools!"
this feels more like a joke on him than on you. . .a mean one at that lol
Halloween: (October 31st)
"Happy happy happy Halloween!! Trick or treat! Obviously I'm picking trick, ahaha!"
Christmas: (December 25th)
"Merry Christmas, {PC}! Oh man, I must be like, super blessed to get to spend it with you!"
Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)
"Hey, hey, hey! We finally get to spend some time together, it's illegal to take your eyes off me!"
(13 affinity and above)
"{PC}? You seem kind of busy, guess I'll take this chance to get some work done…"
Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)
"{PC}, you're back! I was worried you'd forgotten about me!!"
he's so flirty and clingy, but also he can't be clingy because he's scared you'll die if he touches you, even if he's wearing gloves. . .also surely your curse would cancel out his? Then again I'm sure a reaper i stronger than any other [living] anomaly out there. . . .
but. yeah. rui's a darling haha he just. he's another one of the 'i just wanna be a regular person, i wanna go back to normal' characters whose desire to just be a guy makes him special in a more fantastical world. i'm really looking forward to seeing the Obscuary chapter--probably like a month away, right? 'u'
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m1ckeyb3rry · 6 months ago
Note
Hiya hiya! Once again congratulations on 500! I was wondering if I could request a fic with Isagi and handholding! Idk hand holding sounds very romantic so I would love to see how you’ll write it!
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── PATHWAYS
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Synopsis: You go on a walk with your boyfriend while he’s on a break from the intense training of Blue Lock.
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Event Masterlist
Pairing: Isagi x Reader
Chapter Word Count: 1.1k
Content Warnings: fluff, isagi is lowkey a simp, slight rin and nagi slander (i love them though i promise)
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A/N: EEK i’m sorry this took me a sec anon!! i’ve never written for isagi before so this was def smth new which is why it took me a bit to get in the right headspace. i hope it’s okay for you <3
Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.
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It was colder outside than you had expected. Isagi, who was wearing a coat and had a scarf wrapped around his neck, didn’t seem bothered by the temperature, but as for you, you were miserably trying to hide your shivers, pulling your sweater tighter around yourself to disguise it. He had told you that it was chilly, and you had ignored his warning, so it was now your burden to bear.
“I haven’t seen you in so long,” Isagi said, white clouds forming in the air from the heat of his breath. “I missed you a lot the entire time I was there.”
“I missed you, too,” you said. “I know we were able to talk a few times on your one friend’s phone, but it wasn’t the same.”
Isagi wrinkled his nose. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get my own back. I really tried my best. I wanted to talk to you as much as I could, to make up for our physical distance.”
“It’s okay. The fact that you were willing to take care of all of your teammate’s sweaty, gross laundry just to get the chance to call me for a couple of minutes means more to me than anything,” you said, bumping your shoulder against his as you walked along the side of the dirt path connecting your house to the nearest park.
“That was definitely a sacrifice,” he said, gagging from just the memory. “I’d do it again for you, but it was really horrible, Y/N. It’s bad enough dealing with my own clothes after matches, but adding Nagi’s to the mix…it was brutal, to say the least.”
“My poor boyfriend,” you said. “I’m so lucky to have someone who’s willing to endure so much for me. I must’ve been a really good person in my last life.”
“I’m the lucky one,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “To be honest, I was kind of scared you’d find someone else while I was gone. It would only make sense, right? How could a girl as beautiful as you not have a million other options? It would be pretty easy for you to forget about me and move on.”
“Would you forget about me and move on if the roles were reversed?” you said, your teeth chattering. Isagi’s eyebrows shot up, almost disappearing behind his dark hair.
“No way!” he said, shrugging off his coat and draping it around your shoulders. “I’d never, ever do that. I still can’t believe I’m dating you at all!”
“You’re so goofy,” you said. “Hey, don’t give me this. Won’t you get cold?”
“Nah, I’m tough. What kind of number-one striker gets defeated by some wind?” he said. You hummed appreciatively, zipping up the large jacket and rejoicing in the warmth it instantly provided you with.
“Number-one striker, and the hero of Blue Lock, I’m told,” you said. His cheeks turned pink.
“That, too,” he said.
“It’s all everyone at school talks about. One day, you just randomly disappeared, and no one but me knew where you had gone. Then suddenly, you were on TV, making the winning goal in one of the most exciting matches of soccer any of us had ever seen! I feel like the girlfriend of a celebrity,” you said.
“You should get used to it,” he said. “I’m only going to get better from here. I’ll be a World Cup winner next, and since you’re stuck with me, you’re going to have to deal with everything that that entails.”
“Stuck with you?” you said. He reached for your hand, squeezing it tightly, holding up your interlaced fingers so that he could admire them.
“Do you see your hand?” he said, very seriously. 
“I see it,” you said.
“And you see mine?” he continued.
“Mhm,” you said. As always, his were warm, compared to the iciness of your extremities. He liked to joke that it meant the two of you were made for each other, only able to reach the perfect temperature when you were together.
“That’s us,” he said. “We’re going to be like that forever.”
“Goofy and cheesy? What a lethal combination,” you said, shaking your head.
His palm was callused and rough against yours, a proof of how hard he worked. He was always like that, you had noticed even upon first meeting him, always doing the best he could in any given situation, making up for any disadvantages with the sheer force of his will alone. It was nice to have that tangible reminder of who he was pressed against you, so you made no move to let go of his hand even after his little demonstration had concluded.
“I know,” he said. “And my jokes are really bad. But you like that about me, right?”
“I do,” you said. “Your jokes aren’t terrible, though. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“They make you laugh, so I guess they can’t be that bad,” he said. “Although everyone in Blue Lock hated them. One time, my friend Bachira threw a shoe at me for being unfunny, and Rin Itoshi called me a lukewarm NPC for trying to cheer him up with a pun.”
“If anyone is an NPC, it’s him, just for unironically calling someone that,” you said. “They just don’t understand you, Isagi. It’s okay; true art is never appreciated by the masses.”
“That’s right. As long as you’re happy, I don’t mind if they detest me,” he said. You pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“Thank you,” you said.
“Should we get sour gummies at the convenience store? It’s been forever since I had some,” he said, his entire face turning red. It was funny — he would declare his love to you in the most cliched of ways and entirely on a whim, but if you ever reciprocated, he would shut down entirely. Like he said, he really still couldn’t believe that you both were actually together, that in fact you had been together for months now, and so he often acted like a little kid with his first crush whenever he was around you.
“Sounds like a good idea. I’ve been craving some myself,” you said.
“Okay! Let’s go. I’ll race you!” he said, taking off at a run, though contrary to his challenging words, he pulled you along, careful to keep your hands connected as you giggled and stumbled after him.
You had missed him, so much more than you could ever verbalize. You had spent every day that he was gone thinking about him, his spontaneity, his wide smile and his kindness, the gentle way he always spoke to you, how easily taking care of you came to him.
Running towards the convenience store alongside him, you held onto his hand tightly, as much for balance as because you couldn’t imagine letting go. 
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180 notes · View notes
nataliesfirefly · 10 months ago
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You and I Walk a Fragile Line - Farleigh Start x F!Reader - Part 2
a/n: omg thank you all so much for the love on part 1!! i really appreciate it, i didn't think anyone would even see it haha! anyways this chapter is a lil longer but i had a lot of fun writing it, so i hope you enjoy!
word count: 3.5k
part 1, part 3, part 4
warnings: slight angst, language
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You and Venetia sit in one of the many living rooms, watching TV as she braids your hair. It’s been a few days since your arrival, and you were enjoying the break from the cruel outside world. 
You planned on getting Felix to drive you down to your parents’ house in London soon, just to visit. You didn’t want to completely leave them in the dust, and you hadn’t seen them since Christmas break. If you were being honest, you missed them, and you have a lot to tell them about your second year at Oxford.
“So, when are you going to visit your parents?” Venetia asks as she continues plaiting your hair.
“I think tomorrow, actually.” You reply, glancing down at your hands as you pick at your nails, a nervous habit.
“Nice. Is Felix going with you?” She questions. “Yeah, I’m going to try to get him to drive me so I don’t have to take a cab.” You respond. “I’m sure he will,” She says. You nod softly.
“You know, I’m really glad Felix found a friend like you. Not some girl just desperate to fuck him.” Venetia says quietly, out of the blue. It seems totally random, but you needed that. A reminder for why you’re even here when you clearly don’t belong.
“You keep him in check, you know? You’re a really good influence,” She ties off your braid with a hairtie and you turn around to face her.
“Really?” You ask, blushing at the compliment. “Yeah. I mean it, love.” She grins and throws her arms around you, embracing you in a hug. You smile into her shoulder as you hug her back.
She pulls away. “But have you, like, ever considered dating him?” 
You’re taken aback by the question. Have you? You try to think back on the past four years of knowing Felix Catton.
Sure, the first time you met him, you thought he was slightly attractive. But thoughts of dating him or even getting close to him romantically never crossed your mind.
“No. Never,” You shake your head. “Okay, what about… Farleigh?” 
Your stomach drops and you shake your head aggressively. “No. No, we like, hate each other.” You chuckle slightly at the absurdity of her question. “Why, though?” She asks. “I see the way he looks at you. I don’t think he hates you,”
She must be insane. She’s imagining things, or romanticizing things like she always does.
“Seriously, Vee?” You shake your head and facepalm. “What?! I don’t know, you’d make a good couple.” She giggles and shoves you playfully. “No, we wouldn’t.” 
“Who?” You flinch at the deep voice coming from behind you. You look over your shoulder to see Farleigh walking in with a cigarette in his hand, as per usual.
He sits down in a chair near the couch and takes a long drag from the cigarette. “No one.” You quickly say, narrowing your eyes at him.
“This guy I was telling her about, I was saying they would look good together,” Venetia explains, and you turn to look at her with wide eyes. Why was she lying? Maybe to test her theory, to see if Farleigh got jealous.
Farleigh scoffs. “What guy?” He asks, and you wonder why he’s intrigued. “Just one of my friends,” She waves her hand like it’s not important. 
“Well, if he’s awkward and inexperienced, they’ll make a great match.” Farleigh says. You turn back to him and you can already feel your anger brewing. “Who said I was awkward and inexperienced?” You ask, confusion written all over your face.
“Like, everyone.” He smiles mockingly. “I’m not.” You cross your arms and look down, your face hot with embarrassment. 
“Hell, even Felix was talking about it a few weeks ago.” Your eyes snap back up to him as he blows some smoke from his mouth. The words hang in the silent air for a moment.
“What?” Your voice comes out weak. “Yeah, he was saying he only hangs out with you because he feels bad. I mean, think about it. You come from a middle class family, you’re a broke scholarship student… Felix only hangs out with people on the same level as him. You’re just an exception, I guess.” He shrugs even though everything he just said has made your stomach begin to churn and your heart begin to race.
“Use that pretty brain of yours,” He points at you with his cigarette, smirking as you stare into space, trying to process what he just told you.
“Farleigh.” Venetia warns, shaking her head. She places a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sure that’s not true. Farleigh’s just a little shit stirrer. He gets off on that,” She rolls her eyes at him.
“No, it’s true. He has this savior complex. This happens all the time, you’re just the only one that happened to stick around. Like a little lost puppy, following him around, cause you have nowhere else to go. You just want this life so bad, don’t you?” He continues, his tone seeping with hatred.
You feel tears welling up in your eyes and you really don’t want to cry in front of Farleigh. Or Venetia, for that matter. You look around, then stand up and walk out of the room and up the spiraling staircase.
You can hear Venetia scolding Farleigh as you run up the stairs. You eventually storm into your room and shut the door, flopping onto your bed as you begin to sob.
Was it really true? Your whole friendship with Felix was out of pity? 
No. 
~~~
4 YEARS EARLIER
You couldn’t sleep. It was certainly past midnight, you figured. You had been trying to sleep for the past two hours.
Something about this mansion made you feel small and inferior, like you were an imposter. You were, in a way. You didn’t belong. It was taking you a while to get used to the exuberant settings and all the formalities.
As you stared up at your ceiling, you figured some fresh air might help. You grabbed a sweatshirt and threw it over yourself, slipping on your sandals and walking downstairs and out one of the back doors to the courtyard.
You could swear there was someone sitting on the steps. You squinted and you could make out a head of curls and a very small light, a flame. No, a cigarette flame. 
You walked closer and grinned as Farleigh turned to you, flinching a bit.
“Why are you out here?” He asked, his face only illuminated by the ghostly moonlight. “I could ask you the same thing,” You replied, standing over him.
“Can I sit?” You asked. He nodded reluctantly. You sat down and hugged your waist in an attempt to stay warm.
You glanced up at him as he sighed, letting some smoke float out into the air. “You have a smoking problem,” You remarked.
“It’s not a problem. Most people smoke, you know.” He rolled his eyes. “At sixteen?” You asked. “Well, I’m almost seventeen. But yeah,” He nodded and took another drag from it.
“Well, I’ll be waiting for the day when your lungs stop working.” You shot back, grinning at your own statement. “Oookay,” He let out another long sigh as he looked out at the courtyard.
There was a long moment of silence between the two of you. You gazed up at the stars in the clear sky above you, like glitter scattered across a page of black ink. It was peaceful and delicate.
Eventually, Farleigh broke the silence. “You know, I like you a lot more when you keep your mouth shut,”
You rolled your eyes and glanced over at him. “I don’t even talk that much.” You observed the smile he was trying to hide and you nudged him playfully.
“I see you trying not to smile,” You giggled and the smile tugging at his lips broke out into a grin. You poked him in the arm. “You act all tough. Why?” 
His smile faded and he looked back out at the long stretch of grass. “Not sure.” His voice was distant and uncertain. This was the one time he was ever going to let his guard down, you thought to yourself. Maybe it was because he thought you were just a one time guest that he would never see again. 
You two ended up talking for about a half hour, discussing the most random things. But for some reason, it was one of the best conversations you had in a while. You had a lot more in common than you thought. 
You think you ended up dozing off on the steps with him, but you woke up the next morning in your bed. You’re not exactly sure how that happened.
Of course, the next morning at breakfast he acted like he was offput by your presence alone, but you knew what happened the night before wasn’t a dream. It was real, and you knew that when you looked deep into his warm brown eyes.
~~~
The next day, you wake up early to make yourself look somewhat presentable, despite your puffy eyelids from all the crying you did the night before. You put on some light makeup and a white sundress.
Although you didn’t want to face Felix, you needed a ride to your parents’. You head to Felix’s room after putting some shoes on, knocking on his door. 
“Felix,” You call out, knowing he’s probably still sleeping. With no response, you knock harder. “Felix!” You call, slightly louder than the first time.
You hear a loud groan and his bed shifting. “What, mate? Who is it?” He asks. “It’s me,” You reply, staring at the door expectantly.
You hear him shuffling around before his footsteps get louder and the door swings open. His brown hair is messier than usual and his eyes seem to be half open as he studies your appearance.
“What’s the special occasion?” He asks, leaning up against the doorframe as he tries to rub the sleep from his eyes. “Well, I actually have a favor to ask,” You respond, trying to ignore all the thoughts about what Farleigh said last night creeping back into your mind.
“What’s that?” Felix tilts his head curiously. “I was wondering if you could drive me to my parents’ house today. I wanted to visit. Just for the day, you know.” You smile up at him.
He seems caught off guard, and then his expression looks pained. “Oh, you know what? I totally would, but there’s this thing happening in London today. A lot of our friends from Oxford are going to be there, why don’t we just go to your parents’ another day?” He suggests.
You feel disappointment hit you like a tidal wave. Is this what Farleigh was talking about? 
“Our friends? You mean your friends.” You correct him, suddenly feeling the emotions from last night spilling over. “Well, they’d be happy to see you, I’m sure-” “You can’t just do this one thing for me?” You interrupt him.
He looks at you, dumbfounded. “It’s not a big deal, why can’t you just get a cab?” His words cut through you. Not a big deal. 
“You know what, nevermind.” You shake your head and hold up your hands. You turn and begin walking down the hall. 
“I do a lot of things for you, you know!” Felix shouts after you, and you’ve never heard that tone of anger in his voice. He’s always been so kind, so considerate. He used to jump at the chance to help you with something. Now maybe you knew why.
On your way downstairs, you run into the last person you needed to see in this moment. 
Farleigh stops in his tracks when he sees you. He looks up at you from the lower steps, probably noticing your distressed state.
“What’s your problem?” He asks, smirking lightheartedly like it’s another one of his jokes. “Farleigh, I don’t need your little comments right now,” You sigh in exasperation and continue down the stairs, pushing him out of your way.
“Woah, did something happen with you and Felix?” He turns around and follows you out of curiosity. “No. I just-” You realize a possible solution to your problem, but you would rather throw yourself out of a window than spend  nearly two hours in a car with Farleigh.
“You can drive, right?” You turn around to face him once you reach the bottom of the stairs. “Yes… Why?” He narrows his eyes and peers down at you. “Okay, I was trying to ask Felix if he could drive me to my parents’ house today. He obviously said he was too busy for that, so… Can you just drive me?” You look up at him, crossing your fingers behind your back.
The corners of his mouth curl up in a smirk. “Sorry, you’re asking me for a favor?” He chuckles under his breath and raises his eyebrows. “Fuck. Yes, okay?!” You facepalm and wish you had never said something. Now he’s going to tease you over it for the next week or so.
He steps closer and leans down slightly, although you still have to look up at him. “Say please,” He says tauntingly.
You roll your eyes while heat creeps up onto your face. “Please,” You say quietly. “Sorry, I didn’t really hear it,” He leans even closer and you look away. This is why you can’t ask Farleigh for help. Ever.
“Please.” You hate how pitiful and desperate you sound. He seems satisified, so he steps back and stands up straight again. “Alright. Let’s go then, shall we?” You want to strangle him as you follow him out the door.
It’s sweltering outside. You groan. “Oh my God, so hot…” You shake your head and look up at the sun almost already in the middle of the sky.
“What do you say, should we steal his truck?” Farleigh eyes Felix’s truck and nods his head towards it. You know it’s wrong, and he probably will need it later tonight to get to London, but his truck doesn’t have a roof and it would be nice to feel a breeze…
Fuck it. “Do you even have the keys?” You ask, walking over to the truck. Farleigh holds up Felix’s keys to the truck. You cover your mouth and giggle, feeling like you’re back in fifth grade, playing a stupid prank on someone.
You open the door to the passenger’s side and hop in while Farleigh does the same, turning one of the keys and starting the engine. 
“So, what was his excuse?” He questions as he puts the truck in reverse and pulls out of the gravel driveway. He stretches an arm over to place his hand on the back of your headrest, shifting to see over his shoulder. You watch him closely as he does all this.
“Uhm.. This thing in London today. Apparently a bunch of Oxford students are going. Were you planning on going?” You reply, biting your lip as he moved the truck into drive.
Recognition flashes across his face. “Oh. I told him I would go with him, but.. I didn’t really want to anyway,” He shrugs nonchalantly. “Farleigh Start, passing up the opportunity to go to a social gathering?” You gasp sarcastically.
“We spent a whole year with those people. I’d rather not go all the way to London just to see them after what, like, a few weeks?” You squint to look over at him in the sun.
“But you’re driving almost the same distance to my parents,” You raise an eyebrow. He takes a moment to respond, almost like he’s trying to come up with an excuse.
“This is different. You asked me for a favor and I didn’t have anything else to do. It’s not personal.” He glances over at you. His lighter curls that are usually hidden are now illuminated in the golden sunlight.
“I mean, you did have plans with Felix.” You look back out to the road stretched ahead of you and the trees with vibrant green leaves blowing gently in the breeze.
“Okay, do you want me to keep driving?” He glares at you and your remarks. You bite back the smile threatening to form on your face. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry.” You look down and adjust the skirt of your dress.
After about two hours, you see the sign that tells you you are about to enter the small town where you formed many fond memories.
“This isn’t bad,” Farleigh admits as he slows down to round the upcoming bend. “What, did you think I lived in the slums or something?” You laugh a bit at his remark before staring out the window and admiring the familiar surroundings.
“Maybe.” You can hear the smile in his voice. This is nice, you think to yourself. Maybe you two can actually get along.
“Okay, it’s gonna be the third house to your right.” You tell him. It’s a townhouse, not very big, but quaint and cozy. The walls are old brick and the windows are thin with white frames, and some shrubs grow on either side of the staircase leading up to the front door.
He pulls over next to the sidewalk and puts the truck in park. You undo your seatbelt and open the door, pausing to look over at Farleigh.
You notice he is still just sitting there and staring straight ahead, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the wheel.
“Hey, you can come along, you know,” You say softly. He looks over at you, his expression seeming a bit shocked. He raises his eyebrows.
“Really? You want me to meet your parents?” He smirks and you register his joke. “Oh, shut up.” 
“C’mon, I don’t want you to have to just sit out here. This might take a while,” You explain, gesturing for him to come with you.
“Alright, I guess.” He shrugs and you both get out of the truck. You lead, walking up the stairs and breathing in the scent of the plants and the summer air.
You knock on the door and wait patiently. The door opens and you are greeted by your mother. She exclaims your name joyfully and embraces you in a hug.
“Honey, I didn’t know you were coming!” She pulls away to get a good look at you. You observe her. She looks tired. “I thought I would stop by,” You grin brightly.
“You just get prettier every day,” She hugs you again. “Who’s this?” She asks, noticing Farleigh, who is waiting below on the steps.
“This is Farleigh. I needed a ride, and Felix wasn’t available. This is his cousin,” You step to the side, allowing Farleigh to walk up and shake your mom’s hand.
“Oh, nice to meet you!” She shakes his hand, looking up at him. “You’re tall,” She laughs a bit, taken aback by his height.
Farleigh chuckles a bit. “Nice to meet you, Miss.” He dips his head politely. He’s so fake to adults, you think to yourself. “Ah, a fellow American,” She glances at you with a smile. “Yes ma’am,” Farleigh nods.
“Please, come inside,” She opens the door wider and steps back to let you both in. Farleigh has to duck to fit through the door.
You walk into the small living room and sit on your favorite couch. You see Farleigh observing all the pictures framed on the wall of when you were little. You hear him snicker slightly.
“Where’s Dad?” You ask. Your mom has already entered the kitchen and is pouring some hot tea into some cups.
“He’s at work,” She replies. “On a Saturday?” You ask. Usually your dad got work off on Saturdays. 
“Yep. He’s been working hard lately, trying to make some extra money.” Your mom explains as Farleigh walks over to sit with you on the couch.
She walks over and sets the tea cups down on the coffee table. “Thank you,” Farleigh smiles at her and takes one of them. You follow suit.
It feels intimate, in a way. Farleigh meeting your mother and being inside the home you spent many years in. You aren’t sure if you could consider it a childhood home, since you only spent your teenage years here.
Your mom sits down across from you two in her usual chair. “So, tell me all about school. How were exams?” She asks,
You spend the next few hours just talking. Farleigh is surprisingly very conversational, and he seems to be enjoying himself. All three of you are laughing and sharing stories. Your mom even prepares a nice lunch for you two.
After today, you feel like you’ve learned more about Farleigh than you ever knew before. He’s almost bearable when he’s nice like this, and maybe it really is genuine.
“Well, we should probably start heading back,” You say, standing up from the couch. “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll tell Dad you stopped by.” She smiles softly.
And then before you know it, you’re back in the truck with Farleigh, beginning your journey back.
243 notes · View notes
emeraldbloodcrown · 7 months ago
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ONCE MORE
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Chapter: One - Not Easy Pairing: Poly; Tattoo Artists!141 x Baker!Female Reader Summary: Deciding to get a head start in cleaning up the bakery, you end up hitting up the hardware store and meet a handsome stranger, willing to help you out. Content/Warning: Word Count: 2.6
Days passed, with both of you crashing in your old room, switching between who got to take the too old bed and who had to make due with a mattress on the floor. All of your essentials were strewn around your old desk or were still in your backpacks while the rest of your belongings had taken temporary residency in a storage facility.
In the meantime, you had been able to call a cleaning company and get them to sweep through the shop, taking all of the items that had fallen victim to the fire and documenting the damage for insurance. The safety assessment had already happened before your grandmother had written you, so today would be the first day, you’d be able to work towards the renovation.
You were sitting on the mattress, waiting for Anna to finish in the adjacent bathroom, while scrolling on your phone. You heard her return before you saw her as every step she took was accompanied by a small sound of discomfort.
“How can that bed be more uncomfortable than the damn floor?”
Without looking up, you answered her. “Cause it wasn’t chosen for comfort but for the design.” For emphasis, you clapped twice, making the LED butterflies around the frame light up.
“Never would’ve expected a 16-year old you to be so cheesy.”
“Don’t be jealous”
Anna stretched, letting out a satisfied groan when her spine cracked back into place, and she plopped down next to you.
“So what’s on the agenda?”
“Well we have someone coming to see if our electricity is intact, as well as check our plumbing, which wasn’t necessarily hit but since we have to renovate most everything, why not that too?”
Anna hummed.
“Grandma told me that the hardware store has some sort of sale today, so we should check that out and maybe get as much of what we’re gonna need as we can get.”
“Alright, you wanna do that? I can stay and be with the workers.”
“Yeah, let’s do that.”
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Making a small detour to get yourself a quick breakfast on the way, after having to swear to your grandmother for the umpteenth time to only visit the family shops and ’not any of the fast-paced run of the mill stores that seemed to pop up everywhere’, you drove to the hardware store.
You still remembered it, having already existed for a long time before you were born but what had once been a small company with only a handful of employees, most of them related to each other, had expanded into a three story tall store.
When your grandmother had told you about needing your help with restoring her shop, you had anticipated that, until it got to the point of baking and selling, you’d be very out of your depth. Building had always been your grandfather’s thing, not something you held a lot of interest in, not that you would’ve been allowed to indulge in it if you had.
A part of you still recalled the look he had given you when you had needed a chisel for a school project and, not knowing the name for it, had just called it the ‘thing for wood stabbing’. An accurate description, you found, but he had not been amused.
So it wasn’t like you thought you would just wing it, but seeing the sheer size, and therefore implied variety in options, made you wonder if your original assessment of doing it yourself with the help of some friends and intense tutorials on YouTube wouldn’t just turn out to be very wishful thinking.
Still you decided to park your car and after minutes of circling the parking lot, you found a free spot quite a bit away out of the entrance. The sale had brought out more customers, you were sure, but you wondered just how well this shop was doing.
Grabbing a cart, you were still staring at the massive store, not watching where you were going and were suddenly taken out of your daydreaming when you stumbled into someone.
Losing your balance, you arm shot out to grab the pillar next to you to save you the landing on concrete, when at the same time the person grabbed your other arm, steadying you. Bitterly a part of you noticed, how he was completely unfazed by you bumping into him. He could’ve at least swayed a little out of politeness.
Apology and thanks already at the tip of your tongue, it remained exactly there when you took a look at the stranger.
At first glance, all you could think about was how handsome he looked, not quite sure if his rugged features was adding to that or if nothing could distract from and ruin his appearance.
He was wearing boots with dark jeans, both having seen better days, as they showed clear signs of wear and tear, as well as several paint blotches, with the jeans also having been haphazardly patched up.
Hoodie and coat were in the same condition, and you wondered if this was his usual attire for working.
Finally making it up to his face, you noticed his long hair, which peaked out underneath the beanie on top of his head, almost reaching his shoulders and curling around his neck. It seemed less of a fashion choice and more like he had just chosen to let his hair grow wild, which was only proven by the state of his beard. Full and long but also very unkempt.
Where you could see skin, he seemed to have strong feature, sharp jaw line only partially hidden but coming full force around his cheeks and brow. He looked wild, edging on dangerous but any fear his features might have caused were forgotten when you looked into his.
Blue.
Stunning and deep, and so very kind. There were little stress lines around them, accompanied by the darkness and bags underneath.
All in all, he looked rough, the kind you’d be polite to but keep a safe distance to. He looked like he had been dealt some shitty cards by life lately but despite it all, you couldn’t help but stare and think how beautiful those eyes of his were.
“Luv?”
And apparently he had also been blessed with an unfairly attractive voice.
In your daze, you only managed to reply with a dumbfounded: “Huh?”
Embarrassment flooded your system as soon as the words had left your mouth, pressing your lips into a thin line, before you tried to save some grace.
“Sorry, what was that?”
His hand on your arm tightened for a moment, only until he was sure you could keep your balance on your own, and then he let you go. You might not have noticed it, if it hadn’t been for you missing his warmth immediately, and the utter confusion at yourself that followed.
Alright. You made a mental note to check Tinder for any local hookups, if you were that touch starved that a stranger could cause such a reaction you were in more of a need for a good fuck than you had assumed.
“Was jus’ askin’ if you were alright. Didn’t get hurt?”
“I bumped into you. Should probably ask you that instead.”
The corners of his mouth lifted, making the lines around his eyes crinkle, giving his eyes a softer edge now.
“Takes a lot more than a pretty bird to send me tumblin’.”
You know it was meant to be a good-hearted joke, nothing serious but you still flushed a little and even he seemed taken aback by his words.
He cleared his throat, “So not hurt, right?”
Noticing the sudden awkwardness, you chose to simply hum in agreement and give him a little wave when you parted ways.
Except you didn’t, because as it turned out, you weren’t just heading to the same store but remaining on the same floor and even going to the same aisle. He looked over his shoulders, probably to make sure you weren’t some weird stalker but when he did, your eyes weren’t even on him.
Instead you looked up at the daunting and overwhelming variations of floor coatings, with more than half of them looking nearly indistinguishable to your very uninitiated eyes.
You looked and felt out of your depth and helpless, trying to figure out what the differences were, when your stranger took pity on you.
“First time?”
You heaved a sigh, “That obvious, huh?”
“‘fraid so. You want some help?”
You took a look at him but didn’t answer yet. Even in his kindness, he looked tired and you had a feeling that he would appreciate you rejecting his polite offer, but the chances of you faring without him were so thin, and with so many customers coming in for the sale, you doubted an employee would have enough time for you, so you couldn’t bring yourself to say no.
“My grandma will have my head for this but I fear I’m gonna need it.”
He smiled again and you found yourself thinking that you wouldn’t mind seeing it more often and making a mental note to try it for however long he was gonna help you.
“No beheading today. It’s no bother. What do you need?”
He closed the distance between you and you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. Pulling up the shopping list you had made beforehand, you turned your phone for him to see. His finger quickly scrolling over the display to see the length of the list before leading you to the first stop.
“I’m John, by the way.”
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John turned out to be a saint, patiently explaining to you what each option he presented to you for each item on your list was for and what you needed to look out for when installing it.
“Pretty big project for a beginner.”
“Not by choice. My grandpa was the handyman in our family but I can’t really ask him, and actually calling in a service has always left me with outrageous bills. ‘Course I didn’t think I could just wing it, but last I was here this shop was much smaller.”
He hummed, taking one more glance at your phone before showing you another selection to choose from.
“Lived here before?”
“Yeah, grew up here for the most part actually.”
“Glad to be back?”
“For the most part, I guess. Not too sure just yet.”
John finished by putting the final piece into your cart, giving you a polite smile.
“Well, good luck to you.”
He turned on his heel but you stopped him as just letting him leave wasn’t sitting right by you.
“I know you said, it’s no bother but let me make it up to you.”
There was a moment where you looked at each other, both of you with crossed arms over your chest, trying to gauge who would give into the other first but John must’ve seen something in your eyes because he huffed a little before answering you.
“Alright, luv. Just give me a ring and I’m all yours.” He pulled a small notepad from one of his many coat pockets and quickly scribbled his number on it before handing it to you.
After he left you, you finally allowed you to smile at the weird encounter. That definitely hadn’t been on your schedule but you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind. Taking your cart, you pushed it towards check-out, bracing yourself for the next hurdle: actually paying for the many things in it.
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There had been an easiness in John’s limbs as he got out of the shop, his lips almost humming as he got into the car and he caught himself tapping along the steering wheel but the closer he got to his destination, he felt the weight return, as if his bone marrow had turned into cement, dragging him down with every movement.
For a moment, he remained in his car after he parked, listening to the sounds around him and hoping against his better judgement to hear the familiar tunes, smell that scent of her baking, but of course there was nothing.
So he got out, grabbed his purchases and walked into his house. A house that was now solely his, despite the fact that it had been built for a family, for an ours. For her, by him.
The house was musty, needed to be aired and properly cleaned. John knew that if she could see the state it was in, she would throw a fit, tear him a new one for ever letting it come to this.
‘You gotta take care of our home’, she’d say, usually with a whisk in her hand, more often than not making her cinnamon apple buns, the very thing she brought him after their first date when he’d told he hated sweets and she’d told him, he’d love hers.
(She had been right.)
But that was just the thing. For her, their home had been their garden, the reading nook he’d built, the many pictures of their lives and all of the other finer things she had insisted on. For him, she had been his home, and with her gone, he couldn’t find it in him to care, partially hoping that the mess would call out to her and bring her back, even if he couldn’t.
Instead he had taken to disappearing in his work shed for hours on end, working on smaller and bigger projects, anything to take his mind of things. The only break of that routine was the daily phone call from Kate.
He answered her questions more on autopilot, but she hadn’t called him out for it yet so he counted his peaceful days for as long as he could, until she would inevitably drag him back to work to relieve Simon from doing his own and John’s job.
Almost, as if on cue, his phone rang, showing Kate’s number and he answered. He had the practiced replies ready for her but she finally asked him about what he had been doing, the words froze on the tip of his tongue, melted into liquid and got swallowed with saliva, as he surprised both Kate and himself by what he actually told he.
“I met someone today.”
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“So what’s the verdict?”
Anna had come outside of the shop as soon as she saw your car pull up and had helped you with bringing your purchases inside. Afterwards, you had both grabbed a quick dinner, settling down on the ground while discussing your plans for the next step, also giving you a chance to check in with the results of her day.
“Well, thankfully it’s not really a must/red light situation and more a might as well/yellow situation. Both teams said that our electricity and water is working fine but that it’s gonna need some work soon, and since we’re already doing everything else, we might wanna look into that too.”
“That can’t be cheap…”
“Nope, but we should definitely be safe for at least a month or two. I mean, we did account for a lot of repairs.”
Taking a bite, you pointed at one of the papers next to her, the bright colors a stark contrast to the white of the service bills.
“What’s that?”
Following the direction of your finger, she pulled it out and showed it to you.
It was a flyer advertising an autumn festival, promising lots of foods, a show and some dancing.
“Didn’t take you for the type to go to these.”
Anna scoffed and shook her head.
“I’m not. But lots of the town’s people will probably be there.”
“And?” You prompted her to continue, not quite getting her point.
“And, your grandmother made such a fuss about community, not just from what you told me about her but also from all the times she reminded us to go to family shops instead of any of the new coffee shops or fast food restaurant. Would be a good way to get to know the people, maybe we’ll meet someone who can help us.”
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lunarimagines · 28 days ago
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IT TAKES ONE TO KNOW ONE [1]
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Summary: An arrangement of convenience with Sunghoon doesn't go as planned when you get introduced to Jake. Things get complicated and suddenly you have to wonder how you can love two people at once without anyone getting hurt. Jake might just ruin your life...
Warnings: language, eventual sexual themes
A/N: Literally would not get out of my brain and the entire plot summary is written down in my notes app. I hope y'all enjoy, and please send me feedback!! Chapter isn't incredibly long because I want to test it out and see what y'all think.
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Most people tend to forget - or pretend to forget - that idols have obligations and people in their lives pre-fame. For some idols, those lives are crushed and erased by companies from public view; but the people in their lives from before, the people who knew them the longest, still know them and remember that past.
It’s kind of like when you’re traveling through a town. It’s all foreign and new to you, but to many people in that town, it’s familiar and old. The people who know it best can find pain and love and suffering in that town. 
For you, the town is the ice rink. 
It’s hard to describe the exact smell of an ice rink. It smells like rubber and metal and cold. There’s really no other way to describe it. It is cold, obviously, but it’s a synthetic cold. Obviously. 
Still, it’s comforting. It reminds of a  blustery winter day when the weather dips below freezing and you know it’s going to snow soon, dampening the sounds of the outside and acting as a night light as the lights from the city reflect off the white shroud in the dark. That kind of peace and comfort is hard to replicate, but the ice rink does it for you. Maybe it’s because you spent most of your waking moments on the ice that you feel that way, the sides of your skates digging into your ankles to stabilize them, the rush of wind as you skate to prepare for your next jump, getting enough speed to launch into the air. 
For you, the town is also Sunghoon.
You remembered Sunghoon before he was a famous idol. You knew the young Sunghoon, the rising skater Sunghoon, the incredible skater Sunghoon possibly destined for the Olympics, and, now, idol Sunghoon. 
Sunghoon had shocked everyone at the ice rink when he announced he was pursuing life as an idol. Everyone but you. 
“Do you think… do you think it would be okay if I stopped skating?” He’d whispered it so quietly over the phone one night that the static almost drowned his soft voice out. You held the phone close to your ear, rolling onto your side in your bed to get closer to his voice. His call had woken you up around two in the morning and yet you had never felt so awake. Your heart was pounding and your hands felt clammy as you gripped your phone, staring at your wall in the dark.
“I think…” you paused, unsure. “I think you should do what makes you feel happy. What makes you excited when you wake up in the morning. If that’s not skating now, if it’s not skating ever again, that’s fine. That’s what I think.”
You heard Sunghoon’s steady breathing over the phone and you thought about the first time you’d met him at the rink. You’d both been young, steady on your skates but unsteady in nearly every other aspect of your young lives. You had gravitated toward each other due to your work ethic and dry humor. He’d been the first person you’d call when a new movie came out because you wanted to see it with him. You were the first person he’d call when he wanted to try a new restaurant because he wanted your honest opinion on the food. The two of you studied together when you could, skated together when you could, and trained together whenever possible. Everyone thought the two of you were dating, but the thought never crossed your minds. You simply loved Sunghoon and he loved you, a found family as a result of your passion for skating. 
Which is why he had called you to talk about one of the biggest decisions of his life.
“What do you want to do, like, instead? If anything, I guess,” you whispered in the early morning and cringed. You went for supportive but landed somewhere around awkward. 
Sunghoon laughed humorlessly. “I want to audition to be an idol.” 
You smiled. If anyone could make it as an idol…
“When you become an idol can I get a ticket to your concerts?”
Sunghoon laughed for real this time, and you rolled over onto your back as you felt Sunghoon relax over the phone. 
“No way, loser. I’ll ask them to charge you more.” 
He didn’t. When he had his first concert as an idol with his group after winning a grueling competition, he gave one ticket to you and the other to his mom. He even took a photo with you. “Anything for my fans,” he’d said, winking at you. You gagged and flipped him off behind his mom’s back, blushing slightly when you caught one of his group member’s eye mid-gag. The other boy had just smiled and shook his head as Sunghoon made a face at you, turning sweet when his mother turned around to hug him tightly again, proud of her son. He’d flipped you off back behind his mom’s back. 
Now, for the first time in all the years you’d known Sunghoon, you felt uncomfortable in front of him, sitting across from one another in the private dining room of an overly expensive restaurant. 
“I didn’t know.” Again with the whisper, like he was scared of what you would think. It was the same whisper he’d had when he had called you about becoming an idol.
“It’s okay. We can figure something out,” you reassured him, feeling anything but sure yourself.
“Of course they would do this, God,” Sunghoon breathed out, running his hands through his hair and hanging his head. “I am so sorry, Y/N. So, so sorry.” 
You sighed, standing to go behind Sunghoon. Rubbing his shoulders through his dress shirt, you sucked in a deep breath. 
“We both knew they wanted something from you when you switched, ah, career paths. If this is it, then this is it. We can figure it out later, but if we try to change their minds now it’ll just get ugly.”
Arranged dating. That’s what they’d proposed when they sat the two of you down for dinner. When Sunghoon had given up figure skating his parents had been supportive but displeased. He’d given up a shot at the Olympics after all. His parents had made him promise he wouldn’t worry them with idol life. The long hours, harsh environments, and dating scandals rocking the industry had made them worry, though. They’d met with the company and scrambled to find anything to make Sunghoon’s life more… stable. And they had landed on you. You had been a staple in his life for years. Those pre-idol obligations had come crashing down on the two of you on a Saturday evening, a rare Saturday Sunghoon had off. Arranged dating with the intent to marry, it seemed. They didn’t want to worry about all of Sunghoon’s future, the volatile nature of idol life making them nervous. 
You were the perfect candidate. 
“I feel like I’m in one of those, ‘My mom sold me to One Direction” Wattpad fics.’”
“Wattpad?” Sunghoon frowned, turning to look at you.
You rolled your eyes. “Nevermind, loser.”
“Wait, am I One Direction right now?” 
“Yeah, all four members.”
“There’s five of them, stupidhead,” Sunghoon replied, smug.
“Yeah, but you’re no Zayn. I’d gladly be dating him,” you joked, flicking the back of Sunghoon’s head. He stood up to face you, indignant. 
“Hey! I’m pretty good looking, too.”
You crinkled your nose at him, looking him up and down.
“That is no way to look at your boyfriend,” he joked, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous the whole thing was. You couldn’t believe your own parents agreed to this, you couldn’t believe Sunghoon’s parents even dreamt this up, and you couldn’t believe you were in a terrible fanfiction trope. You wanted to cry or maybe laugh or maybe just sleep for a few years until your problems became less glaring. 
“Hey,” Sunghoon said, his hand sliding down your arm to hold your hand softly. “I’m not asking you to fall in love with me like that. They’ll feel better when my career becomes more secure.”
You sighed, looking down. “I just don’t know what the rules are for this.”
He scoffed. “What do your One Direction fanfictions say?”
You raised your head and stared at him, unamused. “First of all, I never read those. Second of all, if I had, say, read them, I guess the rules would say we could act as we always have. You’re not a good actor -” you held up a hand to stop him as he opened his mouth to say something snarky, no doubt “- so we won’t try and act any differently around your parents.”
Sunghoon nodded, still annoyed. “What about actually dating…”
He didn’t finish. You knew what he meant though. Actually dating someone you were attracted to romantically. It didn’t hurt when he said it, it just made you feel a deep, aching sadness in your stomach. If you dated someone you actually liked, you’d be labeled a cheater and ostracized if it was ever found out. If Sunghoon dated someone he actually liked… it would be the same but worse. There were no winners at this particular junction, no way to find a new route home in your hometown. 
You shrugged at him. “It doesn’t look good. Why? You have a crush on someone?” 
Sunghoon rolled his eyes at your sing-songy voice. He pushed you away gently. “No, but I would like to find true love.”
You batted your eyes at him and he gagged, smiling as he turned to hug you. A hug from Sunghoon was pretty rare, and you held on tight. 
“We’ll be fine,” you mumbled into his shoulder. “You can’t scare me off that easily. I remember when you had food poisoning and still insisted on skating and-”
He pushed you away. “Oh my, God, would you shut the fuck up.”
You laughed, throwing your head back as you turned to bump your shoulder into his. The two of you walked toward the exit of the restaurant, him to his car and you, in the next few minutes, to the subway station to take a late train home. 
Sunghoon stopped by the door, turning to face you quickly. “Want to come over next Friday and meet the others? I’ll tell them about what’s going on and then you can meet them. Okay?” You nodded. It felt slightly embarrassing, but it felt right that his bandmates knew what was going on between the two of you. After years of telling them nothing was going on with you and Sunghoon it would seem odd you were suddenly dating the man without the context surrounding the arrangement. Embarrassing to say out loud, maybe. But telling them kept some part of your pride intact. 
“I’ll see you next Friday, then. Around eight?” you asked, checking your phone calendar to make sure you weren’t scheduled for work.
Sunghoon nodded, punching you lightly on the arm as he headed out. You plopped down in a plush chair at the front and waited for ten minutes before leaving after, taking your sweet time to get to the subway station. 
It was a nice night, slightly chilly but clear. The rush of traffic wasn’t slowing down in the city, yet the sidewalks weren’t crowded. Your pace was leisurely as your mind mulled over the events of the night. You wondered how your parents had agreed to it, but you figured they always thought you and Sunghoon were an item and felt it was natural. It stung a bit to think about, and your eyes got wet at the thought. You blinked back the emotions and trudged on, reaching the subway and taking the late train home. Miraculously, the train wasn’t crowded yet for a Saturday night and you found a seat. The swaying of the car felt relaxing on your suddenly weary body and you slumped back into the seat. You were almost dreading next Friday, but a small part of you was looking forward to meeting Sunghoon’s bandmates. You hadn’t met them, truly met them, except in passing at concerts. Now that his past and his present were merging you would finally have the chance to meet them.
All week you amped yourself up to meet Sunghoon’s bandmates. You finally felt ready as you got out of the cab behind their dorm on Friday and a staff member ushered you inside.
But when you finally met the members there was only one way to describe it: A Shitshow. And it was all because of one man in particular.
Fucking Jake Sim.
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greenerteacups · 4 months ago
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Hi GT. I hope this message finds you well. I am sending all the good vibes and we'll wishes your way! ♥️♥️♥️ I hope you've had a wonderful summer.
I'm such a big fan of your work. Lioneheart is amazing and has stuck with me for such a long time.
I was wondering if you had any other stories you'd like to explore one day (even if you never get the chance to write them.) Whether it be fanfiction or original work, I was just curious because sometimes I feel as if I have hundreds of stories inside that I could tell, and I am not sure how to pick just one and see it to completion.
First of all, thank you! This is a fun one. I have a few enduring ideas for longfics I may or may not ever write (i.e., ideas that would have been projects already if I didn't have an ongoing longfic). I don't get stuck in them mostly because I try to remind myself that the idealized story you imagine when a concept occurs to you will never actually exist as it does when it's unshackled by the constraints of execution. What you'll get if you actually sit down and hack it out is (1) a real and imperfect piece of writing, and (2) the satisfaction of having written it, which is by far the more reliable source of motivation, if we're being honest. That being said, here are some ideas I've always wanted to explore, if and when I finish Lionheart:
I've always wanted to write a longform canon-divergent Tomione fic about Tom Riddle's 7th year at Hogwarts. Big honking political melodrama ft. the original Knights of Walpurgis, a Triwizard Tournament, and realistically functioning time travel (hence why this one's always been kicked down my list of projects, because writing a time-travel plot is like running through a minefield made of trampolines). I've already got character concepts sketched out for the Hogwarts cast — sooooo many fun ideas for the teenage Walburga. But I'd still need about a week of solid fic preproduction on the plot alone before I was ready to boot up and start writing, and it'd take at least 250k words — closer to 300k, if I'm being honest about myself. So this probably won't see the light of day anytime remotely soon, if ever.
A canon-compliant Dramione war fic, diverging from the Malfoy Manor chapters in Book 7, picking up from a speculative thread I read once about what would happen if the war didn't end after Voldemort died at the Battle of Hogwarts. I've always thought it would be fascinating to see who Hermione and Draco would become if they were actual soldiers in the war (and my disappointment with how Book 7 handled the "war" of it all has been established). That being said, Book 7 of Lionheart will probably give me a lot of similar ideas to chew on, so I don't know what my appetite for this one will be once I'm finished with it.
Durmstrang AU. This one's barely a fic concept so much as it is a mental moodboard — I just want to worldbuild the hell out of Durmstrang. And the international wizarding world, generally. It's a delicious sandbox.
A longform canon-compliant fic or series of fics about the previous generation of Blacks (Sirius/Bellatrix/Narcissa, namely). If you look at the books, there's a huge amount we don't know about the fall of the Blacks. I always found it bizarre that the sisters and Sirius seem to be the only ones left by 1995. No one else has a claim? No one else from this all-powerful wizarding family wants to step in and claim this big honking townhouse in the middle of London? Or its attendant fortune? Dude, what happened? Also, we don't see nearly enough of the Black family melodrama in canon. They lose 4/5 children of a generation in the span of almost single decade. And then (presumably) all of their parents die in the span of another. Goddamn. Just imagine the character work you could do there.
A No Chosen One/Voldemort Wins (The First Time) AU where Hermione never gets her letter, and meets Draco much later in life as a self-taught witch. The dynamics I have in my head for this are really enjoyable, and it would be a chance to finally write Hermione POV, plus the Draco I've cooked up for this universe is [chefs kiss]. I also just love the idea of Hermione as a feral witch-child running around muggle London. I love it a lot.
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shigarakisdumbwhore · 3 months ago
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Here Without You - Dabi/Hawks Love Triangle
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A/N: This fic is inspired by this ask. I'm not sure what took me so long to write it but here we are!! So shout-out to supernatural-hunter1 for the amazing idea, thank you so much!! Possibly will be a series. Also shout-out to my sister in law, a real one. She helped proof read, gave me some ideas, and helped with the name. I love you bby gurl
Summary: You had been developing a deep crush on Dabi for quite some time. But he was difficult to get through to and know. His distant demeanor made it hard to get close to him. However, when Hawks shows up, things take a turn in a different direction than you could have imagined. Dabi doesn't know your true feelings, you don't know Hawks is a spy, and they don't know you're in love with both of them. This love triangle is about to cause lots of drama and confusion.
Words: 2,241
Warnings: None, really. Except some violence and smut in future chapters. Yet to be written though.
Taglist: @supernatural-hunter1 @desiretdeni
AO3 Link
Dabi was always the smart and cunning guy. An asshole, but let's be honest… was your taste in men ever really that great? No, that's why you were formally a part of the Paranormal Liberation Front. You were here because you weren't really smart, or were you?
If Shigaraki truly meant his promise, and succeeded, that would mean you were smart. The world would be thrown into chaos but at least you wouldn't be on the hero's side, right? Take Hawks for example. He was a new recruit, a hero under disguise. He claimed to be on the villain's side. You hadn't met him yet, but Dabi talked about him. He seemed really distrusting of him.
Sometimes Dabi just needed to let things out. He was never really a vulnerable kind of guy. Most times he just muttered whatever insults, or vented about god only knows what. You were usually that person who paid attention. The others would roll their eyes, especially Twice who talked about Hawks in a completely different perspective. The strong difference in opinions made you really want to meet this guy, just to get a feel for yourself.
Tonight was one of those nights for Dabi. He was sitting outside on a log, a little ways from the base. He had been gone too long, so you came out to look for him. He didn't move or flinch when he heard you.
"What are you doing out here?"
"Heh," he scoffed. "I'm just thinking."
"About?"
No answer. That was expected. Oddly enough, Dabi was like a foggy piece of glass. If you got up really close, you could see something on the inside, except you could never make a clear image of it. He would never tell you what was truly on his mind, but the best you could do was give him some company as support. Dabi didn't really show appreciation to you. However, he didn't yell at you or discourage you from hanging around him.
There was a long period of silence. The night was a little cold and dark. Your arms were wrapped around you as you clung to the little body warmth you had. A chilling breeze came through, rustling the trees and dead leaves throughout the forest.
"Are you cold?" A small blue flame appeared, illuminating the side of his face and hand. You smiled.
"Yeah, a little." In front of you, he sent a large flame at the ground. All the dead leaves and twigs turned into fuel for his flames. The air became dry and hot as the warmth rushed to your face in a large wave, too much for you to handle. You scooted yourself back until the heat became tolerable, but Dabi stayed right where he was. There was an extended period of silence. Only the sounds of the fire cracking, the wind in the trees, and your own breath could be heard in the night.
After some time, Dabi stood up and offered to take you back. Despite not saying much, you could see that it healed Dabi. The look on his face had changed, and his eyes looked calm. You enjoyed your time together and wondered if he did too.
It's not like you cared what Dabi thought of you. You didn't like him… kind of. You didn't really know exactly how you felt about Dabi because having a crush on Dabi was like asking for a knife to the heart. He could never be a normal boyfriend in a healthy relationship. That was asking too much from him. Really, that was too much to ask from any man who was connected to the Paranormal Liberation Front. It was best not to get involved in romance for everyone's sake.
As you laid in bed, it kept you up. What were you and Dabi? Friends? Acquaintances? Strangers? Maybe lovers? It's not like you could ask him, getting an honest answer from Dabi was like pulling teeth. But did you care? Yes, oddly enough, you cared very much. And maybe he didn't feel the same. The rejection would break you.
The next morning was hard to get out of bed. Staying up thinking all night wasn't the best idea, especially when Twice came yelling into the room. The door opened fast, slamming into the wall. You sat up in excitement.
"What? Is it an emergency?"
"No! Yes! Hawks is here and I want you to meet him badly!" He was hopping around with excitement. Finally, you had the opportunity to meet the famous Hawks.
"Okay, okay, fine. Just let me wake up a sec-"
"Sorry, am I intruding? I wasn't sure exactly where Twice was taking me."
Walking through the door was a handsome blonde man. His hair was slicked back in the front and a bit messy in the back. He had thick-winged eyes that would rival any make-up artist. His features were strong and beautiful. Behind him were two large red wings. You felt like you'd seen him before but he looked so different in person.
In your embarrassed state, you jumped up out of bed and quickly tried to fix your appearance. However, wearing your little pajamas didn't help much. This handsome guy was Hawks. A few times you had heard or seen him on television but never paid attention. You wish you did now.
"N-no, it's fine. I'm Y/N."
"Hawks," he smiled as he extended his hand out to shake yours. As you reached out to meet his hand, you could feel butterflies in your stomach. God! Why did Twice have to bring him in at such a bad time? He should have known better as your wingman. Well, literally.
However, it was confusing. As exciting as it was to meet the famous Winged Hero: Hawks that Twice raved about, how would this go when you told Dabi? Would he understand or be upset? No matter how badly you wanted to hide it, you needed his approval deep down. What would you do?
You had liked Dabi for a long time. You could simply deny it no longer, but he was so distant. And here was this handsome man delivered to your bedroom. Sure, he was a hero at one point and still technically is, but he's been truly helping the cause. Twice wouldn't speak so highly of just anyone.
"It's nice to finally meet the guy Twice goes crazy for," you said, with a hint of sarcasm in your voice.
"Likewise, he talks about you a lot too. He's just a friendly guy." His voice was smooth and charming, as well as his looks, but that wasn't entirely enough to trust him. He had a head start because of Twice, but he still needed to prove himself.
Twice gave him a thumbs up as he said, "Oh, I'm so glad you two got along. Would have been much worse if Dabi was here."
Hawks rubbed the back of his neck with a bashful look on his face. "I'm sure he'll come around."
"Pfft, good luck with that…"
"Tough to come around?"
"Yeah, you could say that. He's kind of… nevermind, it doesn't really matter. We'll just see how you hold up here."
With that, the boys left the room so you could get dressed and ready for the day. Toga came in to do your hair as she usually does. She loved doing it in different styles and you let her because it seems she never got to have a good childhood, much less a good adolescence. Sometimes she teased you about Dabi, but you always denied it.
"I'm gonna do something pretty with it so you look pretty for Dabi," she giggled. She laid across the bed and did your hair over the edge as you sat down in front of the mattress. This gave her a good overhead angle.
You held a fashion magazine in your hand, flipping the page as you sighed, "You know I don't care about that." On it was a group of girls in beautiful dresses you wish you could own. If only you didn't pick this life for yourself, maybe you could wear a nice dress like that. Maybe if things were different, Dabi could take you out on a date with those dresses. A normal date where you both went to dinner at a fancy restaurant. But why was a villain daydreaming this about another villain? It would never be that way. Life wasn't that kind.
"Mhm-hmm," she rolled her eyes as she continued. Once she was done, she grabbed a mirror from beside her to show you. You smiled as you took a good look in your reflection. She always took good care of you, making sure you looked nice and beautiful.
"Thank you, Toga." You wrapped your arm around her and gave her a little side hug from the floor. She gave you a sweet smile as you left the room, hopefully to run into Dabi. Would he like your hair? Would he even notice it?
You didn't know much about Dabi. He didn't talk about his past, wouldn't share his real name, and dodged any personal questions. It was scary not knowing anything about him, especially when you liked him so much. It shouldn't matter regardless. Dabi wasn't boyfriend material. You'd end up heartbroken… but it was nice to dream about it.
In a perfect world, wearing that dress from the magazine. You both had money to dine at a fancy restaurant in a beautiful town. It was nighttime. The restaurant was decorated with string lights outside, where the waiter seated you two. The meals were delicious. You laughed and talked together all night. Maybe he wouldn't have his burn scars. You always wondered how he got those…
From behind, you heard a familiar voice call out your name. When you turned around to see who it was, you recognized Hawks. Curious as to why he was calling out to you, you stopped. He quickly walked up to you and smiled.
"I feel like we didn't get a proper introduction with the way Twice did it, so I came to really introduce myself." He took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, planting a soft kiss on the back. "Hawks." You couldn't help the blush from rushing to your face. It must have been noticeable because he chucked.
"Wh… what was wrong with our introduction before?" It was a stupid question, you knew why. But why did he care so much about how you two met?
"I felt bad with the way Twice introduced us. Not that he meant any harm."
"No, no, he's a great guy. He's just a bit oblivious sometimes." There was a short pause of silence. "You're quite flashy and audacious," you said, in reference to his new introduction.
"Eh, it's kind of what I'm known for," he chuckled.
You took this moment to really take in his features. The way he smiled, the color of his eyes, his mannerisms. He didn't seem the type to be a villain. That made you nervous. There had been one occasion, before you joined, that Twice made the mistake of bringing someone in that didn't quite belong. But you wanted to give Twice the benefit of the doubt.
His handsome looks or charm wouldn't work on you. You'd need to know more. There had to be a reason that Dabi didn't like him, and the only way to learn was to ask. Assuming Dabi would tell you, hopefully.
For a moment, you and Hawks made some small talk. He asked for a little tour and general information on everyone. Nothing was too suspicious so you answered what you knew and what would be safe to share. As you two went along, you could see why Twice was so fond of him. But that only made it so confusing why Dabi didn't.
"What made you join?"
"I wanted to be free. I feel too tied down with all the rules and stipulations. Especially the spotlight." He looked out ahead, but seemingly at nothing.
"I get the feeling," you looked down at your feet, reminiscing, "I felt the same way too."
"At least here, you can do as you please. That's what Twice told me Shigaraki says anyway. That's how I want to live."
"That's why I felt connected to Shigaraki too. I bet it's hard for you to always have people watching you, recording you, and whatnot. You're brave for being here, even if it's in the shadows."
He turned to look at you, and smiled. It was a warm smile that melted your heart. Hawks and you seemed so alike. So if Dabi didn't like Hawks, would that mean he secretly disliked you?
Time went by too fast, accidentally spending the whole day together. Hawks was so free and fun to be around, you hadn't noticed how late it had gotten.
"I should turn in now, I enjoyed talking to you."
"Is it that late already? Wow." He pulled his sleeve up to look at his watch. "Okay though, just promise I'll see you around again sometime soon."
You chuckled and blushed as you two went separate ways. You felt different inside. For the first time, you felt seen by a guy. Today went almost like those dreams with Dabi. It was strange. However, you decided to bury those feelings as you went inside your room to rest.
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Chapter Two
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