#is posting this at night a bad idea PROBABLY but whatever i feel like it so
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Hello, hope you're doing well and that I'm not bothering you. I know this blog is for relatable writing posts, and I very much do find them relatable (kudos to you), but I was wondering if I could ask for some advice. Why you? IDK, you seem like a nice person, and you do writing stuff, so I figured why not ask? You don't have to respond, but here goes:
Just, how do you get started? I have so many scenes (literally entire dang novels and story arcs) in my head that are quite vivid, I can hear the dialogue, vividly see the scene and map out everything in my head, but the second I try to put it on paper (or google doc), my brain just freezes up and shuts down, partly out of fear of not being able to do good or cringing hard at it. I know people say to just do it and get it out since a bad draft is better than nothing, but, how do you convince your brain to sit down and actually write out the scenes?
I probably kind of just answered my own question, but it would be nice to get some feedback from an internet stranger (technically speaking) who knows this sort of thing. Anyways, I hope you're doing well and that you have a good day/night :)
Do feel free to ignore this though, I don't want to be a bother.
nondelphic writing tips: overcoming the "brain freeze" when starting to write
first off, thank you for reaching out!! i feel you on the vivid mental movies that suddenly go static the second you try to write them downâthis is such a common struggle, and youâre definitely not alone (ă_<ă) so here���s the thing: your brain knows what it wants to create, but perfectionism is sneaking in and hitting the brakes. it wants it to be just right before itâs even out of your head, which is a recipe for freeze mode. here are a few tricks to warm up (i hope something helps!!):
⧠start tiny
instead of aiming to write a full scene, jot down one line of dialogue or one tiny detail you see in your mind. sometimes just easing in with a line or two makes the brain relax, like âoh, weâre just dipping our toes in, not jumping into the deep end.â
⧠embrace cringe
if it helps, tell yourself that this draft will be messy, and thatâs okay. i call it the âpotato draftâ stageâugly but foundational. no one needs to see this stage, so just spill whatever comes. youâre capturing the vibe of your story idea, not the final masterpiece.
⧠trick the brain with ânotesâ
try writing scenes as if youâre just jotting ânotesâ or a âsketchâ for later. itâs weirdly freeing and convinces your mind that itâs not permanent, making it easier to just get words out.
writing is about building up that âjust writeâ muscle, so even if it feels clunky at first, youâre moving forward, and thatâs progress! i hope this helps a bit, and sending good vibes and hugs your way (ăŁËĎËĎ )
#nondelphic asks#nondelphic writing tips#writing#writeblr#writer problems#writing humor#writers on tumblr#writing memes#writing community#writing struggles#writer life#creative writing#writer things#writing motivation#ao3 writer#writer memes#writing is hard#on writing#writerblr#writers block#writing funny#writer thoughts#fiction writing#writer struggles#writing tips#writing advice#writer woes#writing woes#writer quotes#writing inspiration
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Wverytime I sit down at a computer to make music I get so scared
#i like siting down with a guitar and writing music but the daw is still so scary to me and i dont know how to make it less scary#its like i dont know where to start#i understand music theory i can write chord progressions i can write melodies but arranging feels so daunting#like just trying to pick keyboard voices and stuff im like overwhelmed and then its like i just dont even know where to start#i think i need to do more covers to practice arranging because trying to do it with my own songs im just like i have NO IDEA#i do think that trying to recreate arrangements of other songs I like will help me but also just idk#i really want to get better at writing at the piano but i find it really hard#rn i write almost all my songs on the guitar then i guess what i have to do is try to think of like what style i want it to have#and sort of try to create a map like probably literally on paper and then try to go in and sort of do it but god its so hard i dont know#it feels so so daunting#even trying to make silly little stuff with just like some synths is really hard for me right now its so out of my comfort zone and AUGH id#its frustrating im scared of the computer but i also very much do not want to be an acoustic singer songwriter but thats all i can do#because all i can do is play fucking guitar!!!! and its just so frustrating#technically im like with a midi controller i should be able to do whatever program drums write little synth lines etc i dont have to like#know how to play piano and yet whenever i try to do it i just get so overwhelmed and freaked out with how many possibilities there are#that i just . cannnnnt#AHGHHHHHHHHHHHH im so im in such a bad mood right ow#ive had such a horrible night honestly#i think i will just go engage in fixation for comfort and then go to bed sigh#i dont know what to do to improve at making music in the daw i guess ill just maybe try again this weekend to take another crack at it#god its just so frustrating that i only started writing songs 2 years ago and have only learned to use a daw in the last 3 months i WISH#that i was one of these teenagers who spent all my time writing silly songs and playing around with a midi controller but i just didnt#because i was scared!!!!!!!#playing the guitar and singing has always been like the only thing that felt safe cos i felt if i tried to actually write and arrange songs#by myself i would fail so now i just feel so frustrated because i dont feel like a real musician and i feel like im starting too late#AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH whatever sorry for using the tags of this post as my diary but#i am frustrated!!!!
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Update - Chapters III-V
Reaching // Remnants // Rescue
Jedi Knight Caspian Serapis is at last reunited with his missing crewmates, Kira Carsen and Lord Scourge, when the two make an unexpected appearance on Corellia to rescue him from the wreckage of the Meridian Complex. As Cas recovers and reconnects with his companions in the quiet aftermath of the battle, it isnât just his own long-lost yearnings that are pushed to light. Now, after so many years apart, both Cas and Scourge must decide - does the path ahead lie again in their curious bond as allies, or as something more?
MAIN POST | Read from the beginning
Read on AO3 (short excerpt below cut)
Far, far below, at the base of the spire, a bulky, grey-armoured figure hurtles past squads of Republic troops towards the entrance. The soldiers are too startled to do more than fumble with their weapons as the blaze of a scarlet lightsaber flashes past, too disoriented to do more than stare after him and wonder at the idea that they have, somehow, just escaped the wrath of an obvious Sith.
An auburn-haired Jedi is in swift pursuit; but oddly, her double lightsaber is sheathed on her belt, and she makes no move to attack. Her only gestures are frantic flappings of her hands, motioning for anyone nearby to get back, out of the way of the Sith now charging into the body of the spire.
âHe wonât hurt you! Let him through, just let him through!â
She is partially correct. The Republic soldiers, the CorSec forces, the Green Jedi - they are not his enemies, and he wonât hurt them - unless they stand in his way.
His chest heaving, his lungs seared with smoke, Scourge barrels out of the corridor linking to the monorail and into the spireâs core. His senses are flinching under the barrage of warning slamming at him through the Force. For three hundred years, he had felt it with the clarity of someone reaching through a sheet of transparisteel - muted, yet immediate, the luxury of drawing on its energies without fearing to be overcome by it. But now there is no such barrier, and the Force is driving at him, churning through his emotions like boots losing their purchase in the mud of a battlefield. Telling him that he must go faster, that there is danger, and he cannot afford to falter for even an instant -
The screech of collapsing metal assaults him the moment heâs inside. He is forced to pull up sharply and dive out of the way as a twisted length of durasteel crashes down near the entrance. Rolling to his feet, he jerks a wild glance upward - and his heart stops.
An immense piece of broken machinery is plummeting from the height of the spire, accompanied by an array of structural debris. And falling in the midst of it all, small and fragile and frighteningly limp, like a childâs toy cast away by an uncaring hand -
âCASPIAN!â
Thereâs no time to move, no time to act, no time to do anything except bellow the Jediâs name, before the echoes are lost in the devastating impact of the generator as it crashes into the bottom floor of the spire.
Even within his hastily erected Force shield, Scourge is driven back into the nearest wall as the resulting shockwave slams into him. Smaller, still-significant chunks of the Meridian Complex rain down, crushing a dozen or more unlucky individuals not quick enough to get away.Â
The entire structure of the spire trembles violently around Scourge as he struggles to regain his footing. The air is thickening again with smoke, even as the fire suppression systems tamp down on the flames sputtering within the wreckage.
âCASPIAN!â he howls again, clawing at the wall behind him for balance, his throat and his chest tearing as one.
#swtor#swtor fanfiction#swtor fanfic#swtor oc#lord scourge#swtor jedi knight#jedi knight#swtor romance#swtor scourge#star wars the old republic#star wars#star wars fanfiction#star wars fanfic#swtor:caspian#kem oc#kem writes#kem fics#you get three chapters this time because i needed another one at the end rofl#and one of these is real short anyway#is posting this at night a bad idea PROBABLY but whatever i feel like it so#have an update#expect several reblobs as per usual#otp: we choose our own fates
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Okay but imagine one of the guys actually win the prefect, and they just go rubbing it on the others face by making them wear their respective form uniform.
Except Kalim, he would probably just make them have a sleepover every night and paint each other nails.
ohhh see now I'm imagining all the alternate routes this could take... okay okay I'm so here for this. like half of the cast would totally make them wear the uniform just to rub it in, the other half would just be crazy about seeing them in the dorm uniform at all. I DO have some thoughts on this concept alone... and I'll make another part later yk yk
parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | bad ending
summary: joining their dorms + wearing the uniforms. a proper ending to this type of post: short fics characters: ace, deuce, jack, epel, riddle, ruggie, azul, jamil, kalim, vil additional info: yuu is gender neutral, ruggie is cute, azul is the cutest, vil enjoyers come get your food, maybe a little ooc for some parts
If you thought it was bad before, the news that Malleus intended to marry you made everything about twenty times more chaotic. Bids were upped to insurmountable sums, rumors were spread like the plague, fights were raging through campus as the deadline to donate approached. Even Crowley was starting to feel a little antsy, despite all of the brand new amenities he had already ordered for his office.
Finally, the day came. The announcement was held in the courtyard, where just about any student who had stakes in the matter had shirked whatever after-school responsibilities they had to gather. The prefect themselves was nowhere to be found, though only few noticed their absence.
"Maybe it'll be nice," you say to your direbeast companion, the both of you tucked away in a dark corner at Ramshackle.
"It'll definitely beat living in this dump. You think they got good food in Diasomnia?" Grim murmurs.
You grimace. "Uh... sure. I can't imagine they wouldn't, right?"
Crowley clears his throat, pulling a thin, delicate envelope out of his coat pocket while the crowd eagerly watches on. He takes his sweet time opening it, much to everyone's utter dismay, and when he finally withdraws the contents the entire courtyard falls quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
"And our winner is..."
First Year's Ending
"Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, and Epel Felmier. Congratulations! The prefect will be ready at Ramshackle for your collection this evening. I trust you'll sort out the details..."
The four freshman look between each other, a mix of awe and shock on each of their faces.
Everyone else is staring daggers at them.
Vil is the first to speak. "How?"
"We may or may not have sweetened the deal with a few exclusive bonuses," Ace snickers, crossing his arms. Vil rolls his eyes. Deuce sighs.
"We'll be Crowley's new slaves for months after this..."
Jack grumbles from the back of the four. "Well, it was worth it. Imagine if someone underhanded and dishonest had won, and-"
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever,"
The four pause, looking between each other in silence. Then, finally:
"So who will they be staying with?" Epel asks, catching Vil's attention again.
"Excellent question, Epel," the housewarden smiles, stepping back into the conversation. "We would be more than willing to accommodate the prefect at Pomefiore. Our dorm far outshines the others."
Leona growls. "I heard that. Besides, why should you be first in line? We've already housed them before, they were plenty comfortable then,"
"As I recall, you forced them into servitude as penance for staying," Riddle snaps. "Not exactly the friendliest host. I think they would be much more comfortable at Heartslabyul."
The four freshman can only watch in silence as the housewardens break out into bickering with one another about who's dorm is best.
"Soooo..." Ace starts. "Maybe we should rotate?"
Deuce sighs. "For once, you actually have a good idea,"
Riddle's Ending
"Riddle Rosehearts, congratulations! I'll alert the prefect at once," Crowley says, immediately turning and disappearing into the crowd before anything can get ugly.
It doesn't exactly come across as a surprise to anyone- Riddle closely calculated his spendings, taking into consideration Leona's overconfidence, Malleus' stranger proposal, and Kalim's over-enthusiasm.
Of course, with some additional prodding about how no other dorm is responsible enough to handle another person like Heartslabyul, Crowley finally gave in.
And now, you're sat in front of the dorm's rose gardens, suitcase in tow as you make no apparent effort to walk in.
"Thought I'd find you out here," Trey says, taking a seat in the grass next to you. "Feeling okay?"
"Nervous," you admit.
Trey chuckles, much to your annoyance. "I promise there's really nothing to be nervous about. Riddle is really quite happy you're here,"
You find that a bit surprising, though you suppose it's hard to tell when he's excited. He always has this impression of deep psychological stress on him that makes him difficult to read.
"Is he?"
"Oh, yeah. He's been running Ace and Deuce ragged getting ready. He really wants to impress you," Trey pauses with a small smile. "You'll get used to the order of things here in no time. And if you ever need any help, you've got me, Cater, Ace, Deuce... I'm sure even Riddle will take it easy on you."
You smile in return. "Thanks, I-"
"Prefect!" Riddle storms out of the front doors, looking rather well-dressed for a simple Tuesday afternoon. "You were expected four minutes ago! I've taken the liberty of finding your measurements, so your dorm uniform is already ready and inside!"
Yeah. Excited, right. You give Trey a little look (to which he only waves merrily) and start off behind the housewarden.
For a moment, as you follow him, you could swear you catch him humming and smiling. But before you can say anything about it he catches Ace messing with your dorm uniform and starts shouting.
Ruggie's Ending
"And the winner is... no... this can't be right..."
Crowley clutches the paper, bringing it close to his face. He clicks his tongue, murmuring to himself.
"Um... Ruggie Bucchi, everyone!"
The news sends a shockwave through the audience, and everyone turns to the sophomore at the back of the courtyard. The sudden shift in energy is enough to make him drop his sandwich.
"Damn it..." he grumbles, picking it off the ground and swiping the dirt off of it with his sleeve. "Still good, eh?"
"Are you deaf?" Leona glares. "You're just embarrassing yourself now, and me by association."
Ruggie raises an eyebrow. "What? Oh, the lottery-thingy? I'm pretty sure Crowley misread that. He's going senile, y'know,"
Crowley crosses his arms, begrudginly handing off the paper to Azul in the front. He adjusts his glasses.
"It says Ruggie Bucchi,"
"Then someone mistyped it! I'm telling 'ya, there's no way I managed to scrounge up enough before the deadline. I was digging between couch cushions by the end of it,"
Leona looks as if he's about to smack him upside the head. "Would you just get up there?"
"Geez, alright. But don't blame me when someone comes around with the right winner later," he says, trudging to the front of the crowd. "So what do I gotta do?"
"Erm... the prefect is waiting at Ramshackle. You'll collect them and return to Savanaclaw, where you'll be responsible for handling the details."
"Sure, whatever. Let's get to it, then,"
---
Even your surprise is palpable, though you suppose it could be a lot worse. Ruggie has been a pal before, helping you out at Sam's and convincing Leona to let you off the hook when you accidentally annoy him.
Though, he himself seems less than pleased as you step out of your new room in Savanaclaw, dressed in a slightly too-big uniform.
Leona smirks as if watching something amusing and claps, slowly. "Looking good. See, none of those other pompous outfits woulda looked half as nice on you. Nice work, Ruggie,"
Ruggie rolls his eyes and leans back against the wall. Leona excuses himself to find somewhere warm to nap, leaving you two to stare at each other.
"So... what's wrong?"
"Hm?"
"I mean," you say carefully. "You don't exactly seem excited about winning."
"Oh," Ruggie shrugs. "That's cause I didn't. Guys like me don't win anything. I'm sure someone will come to give you away to the right winner tomorrow."
The thought doesn't sit well with you- you're already here, after all, and Grim is gorging himself in the lounge, and you really-kinda-don't-mind Ruggie winning.
"Well, I hope not,"
He raises an eyebrow. "You know I can hardly afford to take care of myself, right?"
"So then we're even. Just don't make me go through all that bidding stuff again," you sigh. "Let's leave it at that."
A brief, though comfortable silence falls over the two of you, and then he grins. "Alright, then. I can live with that,"
Octotrio's Ending
"Azul Ashengrotto!"
Azul's immediate reaction is to collapse. he hadn't really realized how much stress the anticipation was causing him until suddenly his knees were buckling like he was learning to walk on land all over again.
Floyd grabs his shoulder to keep him upright and Jade joins the scattered applause.
"Don't look so pale, Azul. I'm sure this will prove to be a worthwhile investment," he says, folding his hands neatly in front of him.
A part of Azul knows that Jade isn't referring to anything financial, but he doesn't say a word about it.
"Besides," Jade goes on. "It'll be nice having another member of my club."
Both Azul and Floyd groan in unison.
---
Floyd gives you a standing ovation when you walk into the Mostro Lounge, fully dressed in the provided dorm uniform.
Azul, on the other hand, looks away entirely.
"It feels too long," you say, staring at the bottoms of your pants. You're not exactly in a place to complain, so you keep your voice meek.
"We can make the necessary adjustments," Jade says, walking into the room with a tray of tea, his all-too-knowing smile as unnerving as ever. "You look very nice, though. Wouldn't you say, Azul?"
The merman's eyes immediately turn away from Jade. "Hm?"
"Tell the prefect they look nice, Azul,"
Floyd laughs from across the room, clearly enjoying the spectacle. You tilt your head to the side like a curious puppy, not exactly sure what this banter is about. But it's not your place to pry, either.
Azul's face is beet-red. "You... look nice,"
"Thank you,"
"So are they gonna work or what? I'm tired," Floyd whines, lying on one of the couches and kicking off his shoes.
Azul grimaces. "Don't do that, that's disgusting. And I thought we should let them adjust a few days before giving them the option of working,"
"Option?" Jade's grin widens. "My, aren't you feeling generous?"
"I... assume this process has been rather jarring. I don't want any of my employees distracted or mopey. Is that right?"
You blink. "Uh... yes. This whole thing has been pretty terrible,"
Azul nods in acknowledgement as Grim tumbles in the room, wearing a brand new purple and silver-streaked bow. "Can't believe you guys had one of these 'jus lying around! I feel like a million thaumarks!"
You chuckle and scoop him into your arms. "You look very handsome. Just like Azul,"
Azul can feel his soul leaving his body and has to swiftly turn around to face the wall so you can't see him blushing. Floyd laughs.
"Oh- oh I meant the bow looks just like Azul's outfit!" you correct yourself. He pretends he didn't hear anything at all.
Jade breaks the awkward silence with a chuckle. "Ah, what fun this will be. Now, I think it's only appropriate that we give these two a proper welcome dinner. Prefect, do you care for mushrooms?"
Floyd and Azul groan in unison.
Jamil's Kalim's Ending
"Kalim al-Asim!"
Everyone could see that coming from a mile away. The disgruntled mumbles and groans of the crowd are drowned out by the cheers and claps of one sophomore, practically jumping up and down in the middle of the crowd.
"Yes! Yessss! This is going to be so much fun!"
Jamil suddenly looks exhausted.
Kalim runs to the front of the crowd, shakes Crowley's hand, steals the envelope from him, and sprints the rest of the way to Ramshackle.
Your moping is quite abruptly interrupted by a procession of loud knocks at the door, and after managing to summon your courage, you answer them.
"Wh-"
The very second the door is open, a familiar ball of energy is in your arms, squeezing you tightly.
"I wonnnn, prefect! I won!"
Your eyes widen. "You- you-"
You breathe a sigh of relief.
Out of everyone who threw their name in the hat, you couldn't get much luckier than Kalim. Financial problems? Gone. Loneliness? Blown away in the wind. Your chances of getting assassinated...? Well, let's hope Jamil is in a good mood.
Your uniforms are ready, measured to the exact inch, sitting on a set of mannequins that greet you as soon as you're inside.
Jamil is hovering behind one of them, picking at the sleeve of your school uniform for stray threads. He gives you a sideways glance, not exactly looking happy.
"My two best friends in the whole world in the same dorm!" Kalim claps. "You have to try on your dorm uniform, you'll love it! Oh, let me get you some new sheets- we have silk!"
He bounds off down the hall, leaving you alone in the lounge. The silence is thick and uncomfortable.
"Yeah, I'm outta here," Grim says, walking off in the opposite direction.
"Grim!" You whisper-shout.
"It's a preventative measure! No cracker-dry mouth for me!" and with that, he's gone.
Jamil smirks slightly, turning his attention back to sorting the uniforms. "You should get changed while you still can. I have a feeling Kalim will be attached to your side for the rest of the evening,"
You're pleasantly surprised to see how well the dorm uniform fits you, and your return to the lounge is accompanied with a little smile. The fabric is light and breezy, perfect for the dorm's usual weather- you could certainly get used to the perpetual summer.
"Fits well, I presume?" Jamil asks. "You certainly seem to be in high spirits."
"It could be worse,"
"Much worse," he agrees.
A silence falls over the two of you. Eventually, he sighs to himself, watching you out of the corner of his eyes.
"If you ever need a break from Kalim," Jamil says tentatively. "I could certainly find a way to distract him. Just so you know."
You understand the nature of his offer immediately, and though you know it's wrong, you don't exactly say no.
"...Thank you, Jamil,"
Vil's Ending
"Vil Schoenheit! Thank the sevens..."
Though he walks to Ramshackle to collect his prize with a sense of ease, Vil admits that there was a brief moment where he felt anxious about not winning.
Standing in that crowd, surrounded by royalty and nobles, his chances were higher than most but certainly not assured. The very thought of you being stuck with someone other than him was enough to send a shiver up his spine.
After all, how many people on this campus would you feel comfortable with taking your measurements? None, none but him.
"Hold still," he says for the millionth time. "I'm almost done."
Vil insisted on taking your measurements himself, and you had no qualms about that. After all, things could be worse.
"There. I'll have these sent out right away. Pomefiore has many students of your size, so it's likely we'll have a spare uniform for you. That is, until I can have one custom-made,"
"You really don't have to..."
He raises an eyebrow. "Of course I do. You're a Pomefiore student now, I expect you to present yourself like one,"
A knock at the door pulls your attention away from him, though it's Vil who answers it.
He returns to you, dorm uniform in arm.
"That was fast," you say, accepting the bundle of clothes.
"Punctuality is important. Now, get changed, I want to see what I'll have to adjust for you,"
Waiting for your return is almost as nerve-wrecking as it was waiting for Crowley to call out his name. Vil can't be sure why exactly you're making him so nervous now, but it's all he can do to keep from showing it.
The dorm uniform- which you've dawned before- is just as comfortable as you remember. Warm, but not suffocating, soft but durable.
Vil stares at you for a short while before saying anything, simply drinking in your presence.
"Come here. I need to have a look,"
You inch forward, standing in front of him as he turns around you in circle, inspecting every inch. "Well, it fits much better than your last,"
He pauses, stopping in front of you. You look down at your feet, feeling as nervous under his analytical gaze as ever.
Vil chuckles, cupping your chin and tilting your head up to meet his eyes. "You look wonderful. I'll have to help with your confidence, though,"
Good Ending
"And our winner is... M-"
"Crowley!" a loud voice resonates from the very back of the crowd. The sound of hurried footsteps follow it as Trein and Crewel show up on scene.
"We're... we're kind of in the middle of something-"
"You are absolutely not. I cannot believe I had to find out about your little scheme from Trappola and Spade, of all pups," Crewel grimaces. "Are you well?"
"Well I- I-"
"Called it," Ruggie grins. "Totally senile."
Leona rolls his eyes. "Oi! Just read the damn paper!"
"Absolutely not. This is a highly immoral and borderline illegal offense," Trein crosses his arms. "You will all be refunded promptly. Now return to your studies!"
The crowd slowly dissipates, murmuring amongst themselves. Crowley remains in front of the well at the front of the courtyard, kicking the ground with his hands behind his back, like a child being scolded.
Both Trein and Crewel glare. "If you were having such issues with the prefect's expenses, you could have asked,"
"In what universe is giving them away to teenage boys a sound idea?" Trein grimaces. "I can overlook many of the things you do, but this is far too much."
"But-"
"That's enough," Crewel snaps his pointer against his palm. "If the prefect is causing you such troubles, we'll be glad to take them off your hands. In fact, I've already had the necessary legal papers drawn. I've always wanted a pup of my own, you know."
---
A gentle knock at the door rouses you from your melancholy and after some lengthy pestering from Grim, you finally go to answer it.
Outside is none other than Ace and Deuce, looking rather somber.
"No- don't tell me," you say. "I don't even want to hear it."
Deuce sighs. "It's not that. The whole thing got canceled,"
"No- wait, canceled?"
"Someone got caught with their hand in the cookie jar," Ace snickers, but quickly clears his throat after Deuce gives him a sharp glare. "Crowley's negotiated a different solution to the problem."
Deuce nods. "Hypothetically... how do you feel about being adopted?"
#I enjoyed writing this. thank you anon <3#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#ace trappola x reader#deuce spade x reader#epel felmier x reader#jack howl x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#ruggie bucchi x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#kalim al asim x reader#jamil viper x reader#vil schoenheit x reader
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Who We Are
pairing: fem!reader x dbf!joel miller
description: when your father falls ill, his patrol partner and best friend, joel miller finds a way to aid in his recovery. but this solution is complicated and requires you to take on a week-long hunt for supplies and resources. being stuck on the road with an older guy you've been crushing on for ages won't be so bad, right? wrong. because he's been pining after you, too. and one of you will have to give in evenutally.
word count: 17k words. this one is a LONG ONE. get a snack.
warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, age gap (reader is in her 30s, joel is in his mid 50s), i don't describe the reader all that much, consumption of alcohol, illness that requires medical intervention, blood, guns, killing of infected, forced proximity, joel is kinda pervy?, talks of loss of family members, joel lies about his past, oral (f receiving), face sitting, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, dirty talk, creampie, after care.
author's note: ... hi folks! this one is a long one, so like I said, grab a snack and get comfy! I was going to make this multiple parts but I'm eager and unhinged. to be honest, this story is better as one big one shot anyway. I had a very intense time editing so I know I probably missed some things. I may write little branch off stories if you guys enjoy it enough. anyway, enjoy! <3 lemme know what you think!
âDidnât know you were workinâ tonight, darlinâ,â Your fatherâs Southern drawl brings you out of your daze. You had been cleaning glasses for the last hour and a half. Surprisingly, the Tipsy Bison wasnât busy on a Wednesday night. You had been keeping busy by cleaning and serving two visitors.Â
You look up, noticing your father and his patrol partner wander into the bar. They find a seat at the bar, right in front of you as you dry some whiskey glasses.Â
âI work every night this week, Pops,â You mutter, turning back to the liquor bottles to grab his favorite bourbon. You knew exactly what he came here for. He wanted to pester you on your shift and watch you write under his partnerâs gaze. He thought your little crush was entertaining. You have made comments to your dad in the past about how you thought Joel was nice to look at and your Dad would just laugh. He would jokingly wiggle his finger at you and tell you to find someone your age.Â
Little do you and your father know, Joel feels similarly about you. The first moment he saw you, he thought about how if he was a young buck, heâd lock you down as soon as he could. The age held him back initially, never even entertaining your subtle glances or welcoming smiles. Then when he realized who your father was, he immediately shut down all thoughts like that in his head. You were strictly off-limits.
âWell good, keeps you busy.â
You did not enjoy the idea of working every weeknight with a bunch of drunks, but this job was a bit better than constantly shoveling horse shit. Instead, you got to mingle with the locals. Maybe find yourself a man, since you were in your early thirties and unmarried.
Joel loved coming to the Bison when you were here. It meant he got to drink a whiskey neat and watch you twirl and rush around the bar. Tonight was slower, though, so he got the privilege of speaking with you, which was rare.Â
You pour your Dad his bourbon, finally glancing up at his partner whoâs practically ogling at you. You made a conscious effort to avoid his piercing brown eyes.Â
Joel Miller was a dream boat, god damn. Every time he glanced in your direction, you would freeze up and stutter out a very jumbled âhelloâ. He was quite guarded, never much to talk. When he did finally speak, you found yourself reeling over his deep voice.Â
âWhatcha want, Mr. Miller?â
His lips twinged, his eyes flicking up to yours. He loves hearing you say that, he thinks to himself. You hand off the bourbon to your Dad, waiting for a response.Â
âWhatever heâs having is fine, sweetheart,â He says plainly, nodding toward the half-empty bottle. Your knees could buckle at the nickname, but you keep your composure. You canât crumble that easily.Â
You three slide into a conversation about their patrolling, what they found that day, and the game plan for tomorrow. You make a sly comment about how they needed to find some meaning in life other than patrol. Your dad laughs, and Joel just stares blankly at you. You instantly want to take back the comment and never speak again, ever. Instead, you just continue drying the glasses you just washed.Â
When your dad finished his bourbon, you noticed his expression change from relaxed to pained.Â
âYou okay there?â You ask, grabbing his glass and placing it in the sink below the counter. He rubs his chest, letting out a deep guttural cough. Joel looks perplexed while you get closer and notice the blood splattering into your dadâs palm.Â
âItâs nothing, just a cough,â He manages to say, his voice hoarse. You scan his face, knowing immediately that heâs lying.
âBullshit, youâre coughing up blood,â You reach towards some towels, tossing them on the counter in front of him, âYou should probably go get checked out, Dad.â
Joel quips, âYeah, donât need you getting sick when we are out tomorrow. Why donât you stop by the infirmary before you go home?â
Your Dad just shakes his head, âYou two are being dramatic. Itâs nothing, I promise.â
Your Dad was known for downplaying his pain and sicknesses. You remember being a little girl traveling with him across the country and every time he got hurt, heâd just suck it up. He shattered his left pinky years ago and he resolved to just chop it off. So thatâs what he did. He was lucky it never got infected. But he was known just to blow off all his ailments, reminding you heâs beat all the other odds.Â
So instead of fighting with him, you just nod all the while, stealing a long glance at Joel. Heâs finishing his drink and you canât help but watch his neck. His Adamâs apple bobs as he swallows and you fixate on it for a bit too long.Â
Youâre brought out of the trance when he slams the glass down, his dark brown eyes drooping. Joel always looked tired, but you knew after the day they had, he was actually tired.Â
You had a couple more hours at the Bison before you had to close up, so you bid them a farewell, reminding your Dad that youâd be home before he stumbles off to bed. He never slept much, he would just read in the living room until you got home usually.Â
Joel waves you a farewell, thanking you quietly for the drink.Â
âDonât be a stranger,â You say as he turns his back to you to head for the door. He turns a bit, giving you a slight smirk as he reaches for the door.Â
You spend the rest of your shift daydreaming about what itâd be like to be with a man. You spent most of your time in Jackson without giving much of the men your age a thought. More than half were taken, anyway. While you let your mind wander, you realize your imagination is placing Joel in the spot of all the made-up situations with this said man.Â
-
You lock the bar door behind you, tugging on it to ensure itâs snug in the latch. The air was shifting, the cool warm summer turning into a slightly chilly fall. You wore a long sleeve today, luckily, or else youâd be shivering on your way home. The walk home wasnât a long one.Â
When you reach your front door, you realize the living room light is on. Dadâs awake.
But as you reach to turn the knob, you hear ghastly breathing from the other side. When you swing the door open, you see your Dad in his recliner, his hand over his chest. Heâs dry heaving, trying to get out a cough.Â
âHey, hey,â You quickly race to his side, âAre you okay? Whatâs happening?â
He breathes in deeply, âI just canât seem to catch my breath. Something isnât right.â
You have never seen him so panicked. You nod, understanding that your next step is to get him to the infirmary. He should have gone on his way home. You didnât know if anyone would be there and you surely didnât know if they would be able to treat his symptoms.Â
âAre you in pain?â You ask, grabbing under his arms to lift him out of his chair. Heâs wobbly, so you keep your hand under his armpit and use your other free arm to balance him. He shakes his head.Â
âJust weak.â
Your heart sinks. Never in your life has your father admitted to feeling weak or sick. It was like as soon as he got home, his body just gave out. You help him into his shoes and start your trek back towards the middle of town. You wish you didnât have to walk him so far because it felt like with every 5 feet, his lungs were giving out and sending him into a coughing fit. You probably woke the entire town trudging him through the streets. When you get to the front step of the infirmary, you knock as loud as you can. Usually, they had an overnight shift nurse helping, having them watch over whoever was dragged there during the day. Dispensing medicine if need be. You knew a couple of the nurses, most of them your age or a bit older.Â
When a familiar face opens the door, you feel a sense of relief.Â
âHey Sidney,â You greet her, sort of pushing your Dad into the room, still keeping your hands wrapped around his center, âSomethingâs wrong with Pops.â
She reaches out to help you with him, âOh no, whatâs going on?â
âCan hardly breathe,â Is all he can muster out. You look at Sidney, concern spread across your face. She nods, knowingly.Â
Sidney was one of the nurses you trusted the most. She gave you stitches when you sliced your hand open on a glass bottle a couple of weeks ago. She was patient and gentle, always checking to see if you were doing alright as she sewed your skin together. Sheâs a former Firefly, probably in her 40s. She got trained by some doctors years ago so she knew a decent amount about all sorts of medical treatment.Â
She takes hold of the situation completely, grabbing your Dad and walking him to a free bed near the door. She gets him to lie down and she starts scrambling for some supplies to do a quick once over of him. He looks pale and for some reason, very small, in the hospital bed.Â
âItâs gonna be alright,â You say, poking his arm. You say it for him, but you mainly say it for yourself. He closes his eyes and nods.Â
âAlways is, kiddo.â
-
The news was not ideal. After observation and some tests, Sidney decided your father probably has pneumonia. The problem was, that Jackson was low on antibiotics and they would have to decide if your Dadâs case was urgent enough to give him some.Â
It pissed you off, but you had to hold back your anger. This situation was out of Sidneyâs control, but you knew exactly who to raise your voice to. Sadly, the city council was asleep in their beds, as it was 4 a.m. Sidney reassured you that she would ensure your father was looked after until the morning when they could discuss with everyone if it would be okay to give him some of the highly sought-after antibiotics.Â
But for now, you should get some rest.Â
Your father fussed at you while he was in and out of sleep, telling you that you needed to go home and sleep. Your body was plagued with exhaustion and your brain was hardly functioning. You would need to plead a good case, so even a couple of hours of sleep would do you good. You ask if you could occupy a bed nearby and Sidney agrees with a sympathetic smile. You curl up, trying to clear your brain of your racing thoughts.Â
You canât lose your father, heâs all you have.Â
You need to remind the council of all your father does.Â
You need him to get better.Â
You need him.Â
-
âWe only have 4 vials of antibiotics,â Maria states, trying not to look you in the eyes. She feels horrible, but she knows deep down the rest of the council will probably reject your father using any. It was going to be a tough decision like this that made most of the people in the council think they were playing God, but it was real life. Would they give your 60-something-year-old father antibiotics for pneumonia or give it to a young child suffering from an infection? They had to think ahead and supplies were scarce.Â
You cross your arms, waiting for the next shoe to drop. âAnd?â
Tommy stands up, knowing you will not like the next sentence. He practically guards Maria with his broad frame. He resembled Joel, with his dark hair and stern eyes. His were a bit softer.Â
âWe are low on resources, hun. We need to think ahead and ensure that the pros outweigh the cons of giving him one of those vials. You understand?â
âWhy was this not a thought in the summer? When it was a good time to go seek some out? I just donât under-â
âWe had that sickness going around over the summer. Lots of people getting fevers. Before we knew it, Dr. Peters realized we were low. I had intentions to get out and try to find more, and trade with some people, but we just havenât discussed it all yet. Thereâs a process. It was in the works.â
Your blood is boiling and your patience running out. Each second of arguing was another second your Dad could be closer to death.Â
âWell, itâs a shitty fuckinâ process. Where can I go to get more, then? Is there another community we can trade with? A hospital we can scavenge? You guys canât expect me to sit around and wait for him to get worse.â
Maria looks to Tommy, trying to wrack her brain for a response. Tommyâs lip twitches, knowing exactly what to say. He did not want you to do it, but he knew how you were. Youâd do anything for your family.Â
âThereâs a hospital in Salt Lake that Iâve heard is practically untouched. Fireflies used to reside there and do tests. They probably left behind some supplies.â
You narrow your eyes, âSalt Lake? Isnât that a whole week away?âÂ
You start to pace the room, trying to console yourself. You canât just leave for that long and assume that everyone will take care of your Dad. Tommy places his hands on his hips, trying to figure out a resolution. He liked your Dad, always going to him if he needed help around the commune. Your Dad is always one to offer a helping hand and give solid advice. He didnât want to watch him die, either.Â
âHow about this,â Tommy huffs, âHow about we give him one of our vials and you and Joel head out to Salt Lake to scavenge that hospital? If we are right in our assumptions, thereâs probably a lot of resources there. And Joelâs been there before.â
âWhy are you roping Joel into this?â You press, crossing your arms.Â
âJoel knows where to go. He can get you there in one piece.â
âWhere am I going,â Joelâs presence takes you by surprise. You turn back at the front door of the infirmary, seeing Joelâs disheveled hair sticking up in every direction. He had red cheeks, probably from the jog he did to get there. As soon as he heard about your father, he booked it from the stables to his side.Â
Tommy shoots Joel a knowing look, âYou and her are gonna go back to Salt Lake. You think they have antibiotics at that hospital you took Ellie to?â
Joelâs visceral reaction sends you. His heart practically stopped when Tommy brought up the hospital.Â
You start to sweat when he does, realizing you would have to travel that far with Joel Miller.Â
He swallows, shifting his weight to his other leg. âProbably. Why canât ya just give him what we have?â
Maria shakes her head at his response, âWe have a long winter ahead of us, Joel. We have four vials left. This saves us from a council meeting where they shoot down everything. They wonât approve it. If I reassure them that you are going to get some more, they wonât mind if we give him one.â
He huffs, scratching his chin in contemplation. You knew this would not be ideal for him, but youâre willing to do anything, even if you had to do it alone. The four of you stand in silence while Joel wracks his brain for an excuse to say no. None comes to him.Â
Itâs not that he did not want to help you, he just does not want to relive some trauma with you by his side. He would have to swallow back all his emotions, all the while you would be posted up right next to him. He does not want you to see him falter under pressure.
âShe canât go alone, Joel,â Tommy quips, gesturing towards you. You were shaking, your body reacting before your brain even could. Your nerves were shot.
He shakes his head, âAnd if they donât have the supplies?â
You didnât even think that far.Â
âThey will,â Tommy says, matter-of-factly, âItâs our best bet. The Fireflies disbanded, there has to be stuff left behind.â
You donât know how Tommy knows all this, but he must have good sources to know all these things. Joel nods at him, accepting his response. He looks back at you, trying to figure out how you feel about the proposition by reading your face.Â
âDoes that work for you?â His deep voice isnât meant to be intimidating, but you flinch anyway at the question.Â
âI donât have much of a choice. My Dad needs the medicine. If you guys think we can make it there and back in one piece, Iâll do it.â
âWe will leave tomorrow morning. In the meantime,â Joel waves over Sidney, whoâs still sitting by your sleeping and dazed father, âGive him one of those vials.â
-
Joel sacrificing his time and effort for your father was unfathomable to you. Sure, Joel was a great friend of your Dadâs, but he truly didnât owe you two anything. It made you enamored with him even more.Â
As the day shifted into the evening, you sat by your Dadâs bed and waited for the antibiotics to kick in. His body needed rest, you knew that much because he slept more than he probably ever had in his lifetime.Â
He was sweating out a fever, so every so often youâd pat his head with a cold rag. He would mumble a quiet âthank youâ and then return to snoring. As the sun sets, you welcome Sidney back for her night shift. She checked your Dadâs vitals, telling you his lungs are already sounding a bit better. You stretch and yawn, cracking every bone in your body while you do. You were stuck in the same position for so long, elbows on your knees, your chin propped up by your hands.Â
You had a long trip ahead of you, and you couldnât lie, you were scared half to death. You did not want to come back and find your father dead. You were also terrified about going back outside of Jackson. You spent most of your last 20 years living in the wild and shitty QZâs. You were always on edge out there, and then you found Jackson. Ever since then, life has been a little more hopeful. You were able to form relationships and have some simple enjoyment, after all this time.Â
Your Dad finally wakes up when you start stirring more. His one eye opens first which makes you crack a smile.Â
âMorninâ Pops,â You joke, grabbing his warm hand, âThat antibiotic should start working soon. Youâll be better in no time.â
âYeah,â He croaks, âBut I heard youâre going somewhere.â
You bite your lip, afraid to stress him out. You knew he would worry about you, he always did. Â
âYeah, me and Joel are going to get more supplies. Nothing too drastic,â You lie, brushing your thumb over his scarred knuckles, âYou trust Joel enough to take care of me?â
It was the first time he laughed in the last 24 hours, âCourse he will. He knows how much you mean to me. If he fucks up, he will get a load of me, thatâs for sure.â
His voice was reassuring to hear, especially since heâs joking with you.Â
âOkay, I believe you,â You mutter, âWe leave tomorrow morning, so I need you to be good and get all the rest you can. I want you up and moving when I get back, you hear me?â
âRoger that, kiddo.â
-
âMorninâ sunshine,â Your tone is sarcastic and Joel can tell. You did not expect to be stuck with Joel Miller alone for a week, especially outside the walls.Â
He clears his throat as he finishes packing up his horse.Â
âMorninâ,â He grumbles, patting his horseâs mane, âLetâs get you all set up. Youâll be takinâ your Dadâs horse, Ranger. He is already saddled up, just need to get your stuff on there.â
Luckily, you packed light. You brought a couple of changes of clothes, some food, some camping gear, and of course, your gun.Â
Joel helps you tie down your bag and ensures all the straps he just put on are tight enough for you. You just watch him, enjoying how just takes control of the situation. He had the father instinct, always making sure everything would be safe and secure for the girls he loved. Or liked. Whatever.
You thank him, grabbing onto the saddle and flinging yourself up onto the horse. Ranger was truly your favorite horse in all of Jackson. He was the best behaved and the biggest. His mane was long and black and he loved to be brushed. You spent a lot of evenings riding him for fun, just enjoying his company.Â
Joel gets on his horse, adjusting how he sits before he takes the reigns and guides you towards the main gates of Jackson.Â
âYou still sure youâre ready for a run like this?â
Heâs giving you a chance to back out. But this was now an obligation. If you didnât do this, you would indebted to everyone. You would be the person to blame if someoneâs loved one died. Not really, but you felt that guilt.Â
âReadier than Iâll ever be, Joel.â
-
âHow is Ellie doing?â
You were burning to make conversation. You needed to rid your mind of all the anxiety surrounding your own life. Joel was too quiet, it made you feel queasy. He was too wrapped up in his thoughts. You were about 20 miles outside of Jackson, the sun was coming up through the foliage.Â
He inhales sharply, âSheâs a teenage girl. Sheâs grumpy.â
You grip onto the reigns of your horse, your body swaying back and forth with the trot.Â
âI remember being that young and being constantly annoyed by my Dadâs nagging,â You chuckle, remembering the days of angst, âAre you annoying her, Joel?â
Joel scrunches his face at such allegations. If anything, Ellie was annoying him.Â
âCourse Iâm not! Just⌠want to make sure sheâs doing good. Which she is. Everyone tells me âbout how helpful she is.â
You think back to the last interaction you had with Ellie. She had been helping out at the stables when you were in charge of feeding and cleaning the horses before you got the job at the Tipsy Bison. Ellie wanted to know everything you knew, pestering you with silly questions like what their names were and why they were named what they were.Â
âSheâs very helpful,â You acknowledge, thinking about how enthusiastic she always was about learning, âYou raised her right.â
He huffs, âWas hardly me. Sheâs just smart and raised herself.â
You did not quite understand the history between Joel and Ellie, but you knew Joel was not her biological father. You had no clue how they found each other or when. But you could see the love Joel had for Ellie. You remember him lighting up when he explained to you and your dad how she was the best shot amongst the recruits.Â
Joel will probably never indulge you in the specifics of his relationship with Ellie, simply because itâs complicated. He never felt the need to explain himself to anyone but Tommy.Â
âYou had a hand in some of it, Joel. Give yourself a little credit.â
But Joel was never good at that. He was hard on himself, weary to accredit any of Ellieâs behavior to himself.Â
The rest of the ride was occupied with the sound of leaves rustling. Joel spots a fallen tree that he says would be a good eating spot. You agree, hopping down off your horse with ease. You tie his reins up on a nearby branch and start digging through your saddle bag for the apple you packed for yourself. You were sick with unease all day. With everything going on in your life, the last thing on your mind was hunger. Plus, you were alone with a man that you had to put all your trust in.Â
You pop a squat on the chipping bark and get out your pocket knife to start cutting the red fruit. Joel gets out a bag of jerky from his pack and finds a spot next to you. He looks over at you, perplexed at your food choice.Â
âJust some fruit?â Joel interrogates, instantly knowing your hunger cannot be satiated by apples. No one can be satisfied with only fruit.Â
Your stomach churns at your first bite, âJust not that hungry.â
Thatâs all the explanation he needs. You watch as he starts to munch on his bagged meat, cringing at the sound of his mouth. You try to block it out, but itâs eating away at your brain. You hated the sound of chewing, it was such a stupid pet peeve, but you couldnât help yourself. Joel is oblivious, probably not even hearing how loud heâs being. You smack his arm out of instinct, something you did to your dad when he was being too obnoxious.Â
He looks down at you with furrowed brows and annoyed eyes.Â
âYouâre eating too loud,â You say, wanting to smack yourself at how stupid it sounds out loud.Â
He looks away, completely flabbergasted at the reaction. âEating too loud? Really?â
You feel embarrassed for letting your brain get the best of you. So you just cut more of your apple off and slowly crunch on it. You try your best not to hyper-fixate on your chewing. When youâre in a trance, lost in your thoughts, Joel nudges you back. Heâs getting you back, now.Â
âNow youâre chewing too loud,â He jokes, popping another piece of his jerky in his mouth, âShould probably keep it down. So loud you may attract some infected.â
You canât help but smile at his stupid rebuttal. You give him props for making you feel less foolish.Â
âSorry,â you mumble, eating another slice intentionally loud, âCanât help myself. They are just so crunchy.â
You hear him giggle, his smile easing your churning stomach.Â
âItâs okay, sweetheart. Iâll forgive you this one time.â
-
You knew the ride to this hospital would be long, but you didnât realize how barren the landscape would be. You also didnât realize how bad your ass would hurt. You and Joel finally pull off into some woods when the sun starts to set. Joel acts like he knows exactly how to navigate the woods, guiding his horse deeper and deeper. In between some large trees, you spot a lake.Â
âWanna go swimming?â You question after hours of no conversation. He glances back at you with a sly smirk on his face. When you look to your right, you notice a small path. Joel clicks his tongue for his horse to follow it. You two trot through the leaves, before coming upon a small decrepted cabin.
âThis is us,â He states as he halts his horse.Â
He had secretly always pictured taking you out here. He could not help but insert you into his small fantasies. Some nights he would imagine what it would be like to have you stick by his side forever. He always felt guilty afterward.Â
You look at the building in wonder, completely speechless. You assumed you would be camping on the forest floor, not in an intimate cabin by a lake. You swing your leg over and slide off your saddle. Joel starts to tie up his horse nearby and you follow suit. You continue to look at the cabin, curious as to who kept up with it. It looked well maintained, besides some cobwebs at the peak of the roof.Â
âIs this yours?â
He shakes his head, âNo. Technically Tommyâs. He goes this way to get to another settlement about 50 miles south. He found this place on a whim and cleaned it up.â
You look around the area, seeing thereâs even a fire pit right by the water. It had chairs and stones to outline the charred wood. You could not help but imagine what this place was before Tommy found it. How many fun nights were probably spent here by the original owner? If you had no one to go back to, you would just live here. But the more you think about that scenario, you think about how lonely you would probably get. Maybe if you had someone to stay with you.Â
You finally look back at Joel. Heâs standing on the stone path with his eyes locked on you. You get self-conscious for a moment, realizing he probably noticed how entranced you were with the surroundings.Â
Thatâs exactly what he was thinking, too. How beautiful you stood in the shadows of the trees, your eyes curiously glancing around like a kid in a candy shop. You had him wrapped around your finger without even knowing it.Â
âYou good if we stay here overnight? Get back on the road tomorrow?â
How could you ever say no to an offer like that?Â
You nod, swallowing back your insecurity, âYeah, for sure.â
-
Joel could build a good fire. Watching him gather all the wood and place them into a perfect formation. As soon as he lights it, it builds and builds. When the warmth envelopes you, you start to finally feel at ease. Joel sits down with a stick, nudging the fire every so often.
He felt guilty. He felt like he was betraying your father, a man who was trusting him with his daughter. He should not be imagining how a little life in the woods would look like with you. He should not be picturing how beautiful you would look underneath him. He should not be having these devious thoughts about you. His eyes are trained on the flames as they build, trying to push those daydreams away.Â
When his sleeve lifts as he toys with the charred wood, you notice the watch on his wrist. It looks ancient, the face of it shattered. You donât realize youâre staring at it until he snatches his hand away from your view.Â
âSorry,â You retract, sitting further into the chair, âYour watch is broken.â
He places the stick next to his foot, finally out of his head for a moment, âYeah, Iâm aware.â
You were so stupid. You know not to pry further, knowing thereâs probably a story and you donât feel like youâre at a stage with Joel Miller to dive deeper. He notices how small you making yourself, and it makes him feel bad. He never wants to make you insecure.Â
âYour necklace,â He starts, trying to place your mind somewhere else. It was a feature on your body that he noticed ages ago, but he never tried to beg the question, so this seemed like a great time to move the subject along. âIs it a moon?â
You reach up to your throat, feeling for the necklace you never took off. It feels like he almost wants to see if you will spill your story first. He is bad at reading women, sometimes. Most of the time.Â
âYeah, it was my sisterâs.â
He feels stupid, instantaneously. As soon as those words fell from your lips, he put his face in his hands.Â
âOh, Iâm sorry.â
Your feelings towards what happened 20 years ago were drastically different than how you feel now. You could still feel the horror and the pain you felt, but it wasnât so gut-wrenching anymore. It honestly doesnât even feel like it happened to you.Â
You drop the crescent moon charm from your hands, âNo, itâs okay. She died on outbreak day. She was a bit older than me, her name was Reagan.â
He looks up at you and just nods, taking in the information. You donât know if itâs a gesture for you to continue to talk, but you take it as just that.Â
âHer and my mom were at one of her soccer games when all hell broke loose. From what I heard, she was bit by one of her teammates and when me and my Dad were packing up our things to get out of there, I grabbed some of her stuff. A necklace, a sweatshirt, and her favorite pair of sneakers. I donât know why. But yeah, this necklace is the only thing that survived 20 years. Sweatshirt got too small, shoes got too torn up.â
You donât even notice the tears pricking in your eyes until you blink. You donât even remember what she looks like, her face is kind of jumbled in your memory. You remember her hair though, long and brown and super curly. Joel just listens, his eyes trained on your hands as you nervously rub them together. When you peer up at him, you see the mutual pain written on his face.Â
He thinks to his beautiful Sarah. His eyes fall to his broken watch. The pain is still very palpable.Â
ââm glad we have somethinâ from our people. Somethinâ to remember them by, yaâ know?â
You scan his broken watch and nod timidly. âYeah, something to remember them by.â
-
You stand up after eating some more food you packed, ensuring youâre somewhat nourished before you go to sleep. Joel stares at the fire, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. He knows he has to sleep, but he knows you need it more. Heâs willing to give up his hours for yours.Â
âYou want me to do first watch?â You quiz, hoping to get the answer no. Instead, he just shrugs. You cross your arms, a cool shiver going down your back as you step away from the fire.Â
âIâll start first,â He mumbles, grabbing his poking stick, âThereâs a bed in there all ready for you. Get some rest, we got a long day tomorrow.â
You respond with a slight wag of your head, âOkay, goodnight, Joel.â
You turn on your heels and head towards the front door of the cabin. You creak the door open. Itâs pitch black so you step back onto the small porch to grab the lantern Joel lit a while ago. You slowly creep through the one-room cabin, placing the lantern on the small table by the door. It lit up most of the room so you got a great look at the wooden framed bed, waiting for you to lay upon it.Â
You feel a pang of guilt making Joel sit outside to guard you as you slept. You knew you needed rest. You also knew it would start getting colder and colder and that fire would die eventually.Â
Joel could handle himself, after all. You would just have to push your worry aside. When you curl up onto the hard mattress, you think back to the last time you were left to trust another man to look after you as you slept. It was a traumatizing night, so instead of worrying yourself, you close your eyes and remind yourself that Joel is safe. Dad trusts Joel. Joel is a good man.Â
Sleep eventually takes over, your soft snores rattling off the wooden walls.Â
After a couple of hours, the shivering takes over Joelâs body, so he creeps into the cabin. The lantern is dimmer, slowly running out of fuel. He shakes his head, smiling to himself at your disregard for resources. He walks over to the small wood-burning oven, opening the door to it as quietly as he can. You donât even stir. Youâre a deep sleeper, he would remember.Â
He starts a fire with the old coals, warming up the small space. Once he stands up from his squat, he hisses at the crack of his knees. He glances over at you, making sure he did not wake you. Nothing.Â
You were a peaceful sleeper, your mouth slightly ajar. To Joel, you were always so beautiful. Not even just your looks, but your kind and reserved nature. You always gave him a delighted smile when he looked your way. You were dedicated to always being there for your father, which would always melt his cold heart. He would always watch you with a careful eye, praying that you would somehow get older or him, younger. He hated himself for admiring you so often, especially since he respected your father so much. But you were right there.Â
He sat himself in the old recliner chair near the door, peaking out the window every so often. He would always find himself training his eyes back on you, watching your chest rise and fall slowly.Â
It takes everything in him not to curl up next to you.Â
-
The second day starts off a bit rough.Â
When you wake up in the early morning hours, you take notice of a sleeping Joel in the corner of the room. You spring up, loudly rattling the bed frame. It sends Joel jumping out of his skin, his eyes flying open to look at you.
You are panting like you just ran a mile.Â
âJesus Christ, girl,â He barks, his tone tired but also vicious, âThought someone had you at gunpoint.â
âYou were sleeping!â
âShit, yeah I was, wasnât I?â His tone is more relaxed, sort of annoyed. He rubs his eyes, glancing outside. Your horses were still there and it doesnât seem like you guys have been ransacked.Â
You clench your fists, âYouâre lucky we didnât get shot in our sleep or something.â
He rolls his eyes, slowly rising from the chair he took over, âThatâs a little dramatic, sweetheart. We are fine.â
After that comment, you did not want to talk to Joel Miller.Â
You also start to question if you can trust him. He shouldâve woken you up to take charge of the watch, but instead, he ignorantly fell asleep and risked your life.Â
When you pack up to leave, he realizes how rattled you are. He wants to apologize, but heâs too stubborn to do so. You were being dramatic. But he shouldnât have said that. He shouldâve kept that comment to himself. He was never really good at holding his tongue, always saying the first thing on his mind.Â
-
When the sun sets on the second day, Joel promises you two should be in Salt Lake the next afternoon. The whole day pretty much consisted of you two bickering about state capitals. He swears the capital of Pennsylvania is Philadelphia.Â
âItâs not, itâs Harrisburg,â You would say.Â
You also talked about times before the Infection. He mentions his daughter, Sarah, telling you about how she used to play soccer and she loved going to the Texas State Fair. It makes your heart happy to hear him light up about her, but it makes you want to cry hearing a father talk about his dead child. You canât imagine that type of pain, and you hope you never do. He doesnât even know why heâs suddenly baring his soul to you, but he starts to feel like his walls are falling away and heâs comfortable around you.Â
He tells you about how he plays the guitar, which you lock onto quickly.Â
âYouâll have to show me how good you are,â You smile, imagining Joel Miller strumming along to some folksy song you request. He can only imagine what type of music you would want to hear from him.Â
âWhen we get home,â He mutters, âI'll give you a performance.â
âI cannot wait.â
The conversation with you was easy. You could get anything out of him, pretty much. You were a lot like your father, but softer. He enjoyed your company a bit more. Your laugh was infectious and you were a lot easier on the eyes, of course. When you two stop for a break, he watches as you look for four-leaf clovers on the forest floor. When you find one, you pick it up and bring it over to his hunched-down frame.Â
âMy mom used to say they were for love and luck,â You explain, âThink you need it for both.â
He knew you were joking by the way you giggle and return to your spot on the ground. He just shakes his head and sticks the clover in his jacket pocket.Â
-
He was dreading being back in Salt Lake. He doesnât want to relive that day when Ellie was practically ripped from him. It sent him spiraling just thinking about all the outcomes that couldâve transpired that day.Â
He contemplates telling you for a few brief seconds.Â
He wouldnât have much to lose, especially now that everything is said and done. But then fear takes over and he wonders, would you judge him for it?
He imagines how you would react. How your nose would probably scrunch up, how your disposition towards him would soon contort into horror. You would probably call him a monster. You would probably never look at him the same way, with that beautiful smile and attentive gaze.
âYou okay, Joel?â
You two were positioned on the edge of some woods off a dirt road. Joel didnât want to attract anyone with fire, so you two decided you would just camp on the ground near the highway you would end up following to get into the city.Â
ââM all good,â He practically whispers, âJust tired. You mind gettinâ first watch?â
You just silently nod, watching him rise from his spot and move over to the sleeping bags you two had set up when you arrived. You watch as he awkwardly wiggles his large frame into a small sack. It makes you giggle a bit. He positions himself with his back to you, his front facing into the woods. He canât spend his time staring at you like he would like to, he needs to sleep.Â
You realize he has a leaf stuck on the back of his head. You couldnât help yourself, it was going to bother you for as long as you were awake. You stand up and slowly creep up to him.Â
You squat down and pluck the leaf out of his thick curls. His head snatches back at you, knitting his brows together in confusion.Â
Secretly deep down, you just wanted to find a reason to touch him.Â
âCan I help you?â
You give him a shit-eating grin, âYeah, you just got leaves in your hair. It was going to bother me if I didnât get it out. Youâre very, very welcome.â
He rolls his eyes, âCan I sleep now?â
âDonât know, Iâm already getting bored without you glaring at me.â
You were now on a mission to annoy him, he guesses.Â
Without thinking, he responds with a comment that would stick with you all night.Â
âYeah, you like it when I look at you, donât ya?â
-
The homestretch was only about another 20 miles. You and Joel had made good time, only taking about three days to get to the hospital. After the subtle flirting with Joel the night before, you got a little more ambitious with your advances.Â
Before you two took off to get to your destination, you asked Joel if you could change your clothes. You had mud all over your jeans and your shirt was reeking of body odor. The natural deodorants that were handmade in Jackson only did so much.Â
âYeah, make it quick,â He orders, pointing to a more private area of the camp, âThereâs some bushes over there.â
âIâm not getting dressed in a bush, Joel. Just look away,â You test, already shrugging off your flannel. He notices your bold move, instantly peeling his eyes away from your direction. This can not be happening to him right now.Â
âWhat the hell,â He murmurs, his hands propped up on his hips, âYouâre doinâ this on purpose.â
You feel your cheeks heat up, âDoing what on purpose?â
âTestinâ me. Me and my patience.â
You throw your shirt over your head and grab one of your spare ones from your pack, âWell, if itâs a test, youâre passing with flying colors, Miller.â
He glances back at you without even really thinking, spotting you in your bra with a shirt covering your eyes. Itâs almost like when you tell a child not to press a button, and it makes them want to do it even more.
He wanted to keep looking.Â
âFuck,â He says under his breath, trying to push those types of thoughts out of his mind.Â
You shimmy off your pants, folding them as soon as you get them off your legs. You needed a shower so bad, you felt so filthy.Â
âYou think we could stop back at the cabin on the way home? I want to bathe.â
Thinking about you naked and taking a bath made his dick hard.Â
âYes,â He manages to say, âHurry up, please!â
You grin at his frustration, âFine, fine. Iâm almost done.â
-
You and Joel trot along an abandoned highway, cars littering every lane. It was nothing new to you. You have seen plenty of cities in your lifetime. Each time was a bit different, but for the most part, they were all the same. Riddled with infected and bombed to shit.Â
You think back to when Tommy said Joel had been here before. Your mind starts to wonder, and being that you still had a couple of hours before you got to see the actual hospital, you decide to speak up and ask.Â
âWhen was the last time you were here?â
He thinks for a second. He was waiting for these questions.Â
âOver a year ago.â
You shake your head, âWas there a reason?â
You had no business prying into Joelâs life, but you felt like after spending days with him, there was some kinship. Maybe even a friendship.
âEllieâs mom was a Firefly. They had a base camp out here,â He explains, but would he go further? Would he spill all the beans?
Itâs technically not his story to tell. But then again, Ellie didnât even have the truth, so it was a story only he knew.Â
You wait before responding, âDid you find her?â
âWho?â
âEllieâs mom,â You press, glancing around some cars. You are trying to act like you didnât care, but you could tell from the moment you entered the outskirts of the city, Joel was plagued with the weight of the atmosphere. His shoulders got heavier, his eyebrows further knitted together. He was tense.Â
âNo, sheâs dead. So I brought her home,â He says, half-bending the truth. Heâs lying, but not really. Ellieâs mom was dead but that was never the reason they came out here. He just wants to say it, but his chest feels like a weight is pushing down, almost cracking his ribs. He swallowed the guilt.Â
âOh, Iâm sorry to hear that.â
You didnât have much else to say, letting the silence eat away at the prickle of your arm hairs as they stood up. You try to relax, but now that you are in the city, it feels real. You traveled all this way for medication so Jackson would not shun you. It sounded kind of stupid, coming all this way in hopes of a stocked Firefly hospital.Â
You also traveled all this way with Joel Miller. You managed to speak to him without tripping over every word and poking fun at him. You watched him sleep at night, looking so peaceful in the woods surrounding him. You try to think about the last time you saw him smile. You saw him differently, now. He came all this way to help you and your dad. He is risking a lot, disregarding his duties back home, just so he can be with you and protect you.Â
You ponder if things will be different when you get home. Maybe he would talk to you more when he came to the Tipsy Bison. Maybe he would wave back at you when you saw him around town.Â
You secretly hoped being next to him for so long would change your relationship with him.Â
Joel starts to ride next to you, studying your face as you stare forward.Â
âWhat are you thinkinâ bout so hard over there?â He poses, watching your face twist when he speaks up.Â
You lick your lips, âThinking about what itâs gonna be like when I get home.â
âWhat do yaâ mean?â
You halt your horse to look over at him. He does the same.Â
âWe came all this way and I am scared when we get back, you wonât want to talk to me anymore.â
He shakes his head, a slight chuckle escaping his lips, âKiddo, your dadâs my patrol partner. âCourse, Iâll still talk to you. Youâre always around.â
The nickname makes you cringe. You donât want to be a kid to him.Â
âRight, of course.â
-
When you get to the edge of the city, Joel starts explaining the game plan. How you will get to the hospital, do your sweep as quick as you can, and donât meander around. He also explains how the exit plan is to drop everything, no matter what, and return to the horses. You see someone? Run.Â
You want to say you know how to handle yourself, but you resist and just nod in understanding.Â
To your surprise, you two do not run into any hoards. You turn a corner and spot a couple of infected twitching near an old school, and you two carefully back up and go up another block to avoid them altogether. You two donât say anything to each other as you spot the hospital in the distance. Joel just points forward, having you trot at his side.Â
You pull out your gun when you start to hear some clicking nearby. Joel gestures to you to be quiet and continues to the front of the hospital. You two ride your horses to the ambulance drop-off, parking them there. When you jump down, you start to grab your pack so you can fill it with whatever supplies you find. Joel does the same, throwing his leather backpack over his shoulder. You check the magazine of your gun and take off the safety.Â
âOkay, we stay close to each other,â He explains in a hushed tone, âGrab whatever you think we need.â
You wiggle your head in agreement. He raises his rifle as you two enter the side door. The hospital is quiet besides the wind blowing through some shattered windows. You click on your flashlight that is attached to your backpack, making sure itâs pointed forward. The main corridor leads you down to some triage rooms and nurse's stations. Joel gestures to you to check out some triage rooms. You find some bandages and some tongue presses. You grab the entire box of bandages and stuff them in your bag. When you return to the hall, Joel is stuffing some of his finds in his pack.Â
âNo meds yet,â He grumbles. You two press forward, keeping your steps silent. You find some lab rooms off the main hallway and you two scope out each room carefully, your guns still drawn and at the ready. You find more items; some gloves, masks, and some scissors. You pick them up, stuffing them in your back.Â
You hear movement from behind you and quickly spin. Itâs just Joel, holding a couple of vials of medication. You rush towards him, using your light to see what the vials read.Â
levofloxacinÂ
amoxicillin
âJackpot,â You murmur, âAny more?â
He grabs a baggie sitting on a table nearby, âNot that I saw.â
You continue searching, not finding much of anything in the drawers. A lot of the stuff is picked through.Â
You point to a central staircase, âWanna go up?â
âYeah, right behind you.â
Joel was reeling, spotting some areas where blood was splattered across the walls as he walked through the hospital. It was terrifying to put himself back in this exact spot. It felt like a fever dream. Now he had you with him, another person he cared too much about to admit to anybody, let alone himself. He cared about you in a whole different way than he cared about Ellie.Â
You trail up the stairs, finding some old labs and nurse's stations. All were picked through. You couldnât help but notice the blood all over the floor in some areas. You try to figure out what could have transpired here, but you donât even try to beg the question to Joel. With the look on his face, you are afraid to say much of anything.Â
Something bad happened here and he was a witness to it.Â
It made you want to hurry up and spare his feelings. Instead of taking careful and methodical steps, you run room to room searching drawers and counters for anything of value. You find some alcohol swabs, safety pins, and some wrist splints. When you get to the last room in the hallway youâre in, you hit the jackpot. Itâs a cabinet with some vials.Â
You start to quietly read them off to Joel whoâs standing on the threshold of the room.Â
âGrab them all,â He says, pulling his pack off his shoulder so you can put some into his, âWe can find use for âem.â
You also find some sutures and unopened syringes. You wish you could get down on your knees and thank whatever god is up there for blessing you with everything. You donât believe in that though, so instead you excitingly grab Joelâs arm and shake it.Â
âLetâs get this all home,â You smile, pressing your fingers harder into his bicep, âMaybe celebrate with something strong from the bar.â
Then you hear it.Â
Click. Click. Click.Â
Joel grabs your arm back, shoving you behind him. He slings his pack over his shoulder and you do the same. You never had many issues with killing infected, but you did not know what you were dealing with. It was dark and all too quiet for too long. Joel creeps forward, his gun drawn forward to peek out the door. When you do the same, he tucks you back behind him.Â
Lining the hallway is about 3 clickers. Your stomach drops as they slowly make their way to the sounds you two made seconds ago. Joel glances back at you, his face very serious and stern.Â
You can read the look on his face and being that you dealt with these fuckers before, you know that you need to be silent. He looks back down the hall, spotting an exit in a staircase thatâs slightly blocked by one of the clickers. He waves you along as he slowly tiptoes down the hallway. You get closer and closer to the first clicker and your gun is trained right at them as you keep your distance. You can tell by the clothing that it was a woman at one time, the infection growing out of every crevice of her body.Â
She clicks and clicks, but does not attack you. You and Joel continue, not making a sound as you shuffle past the next one. But once you get close to the one closest to the door, something snaps and itâs like they all realize exactly all at once. One squeals and the others follow suit. Joel yells for you to run, but you donât budge, emptying your gun into the closest one. It crumbles to the ground. With that one down, Joel grips your wrist tightly and flings you towards the door. You two rush out as Joel lights up the hallway with gunfire.Â
You now know that youâre attracting every infected in a mile radius so time is of the essence. You practically fall down the stairs trying to get to the bottom. Joel does not like how fast you moving, pressing you to run faster. You two sprint down the hallway as two runners come full speed at you from an opposing hallway. You try to shoot but your gun is empty. You scream for Joel to do something and he puts them down expertly. Heâs spot on even with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. You find the door you came in from and quickly make your way to Ranger. He seems sort of spooked so you try to gingerly climb up him, grabbing his reigns from the pole you tied him to. Joel is quick to mount his horse. He pulls his horse back, guiding it to head back the way you guys came.Â
You follow suit, hearing stirring from all around you as your hair whips in the wind. You are not worrying about the noise you two are making now, galloping down the once-busy streets of Salt Lake City.Â
âDonât stop tilâ I say so!â Joel calls out. You can hardly hear with your heartbeat in your ears and the wind against your ear drum.Â
You get to the edge of the city after about 20 minutes of dodging left-behind cars and random barriers. You get to the point where the foliage takes over and the infected taper off. You donât realize it until you start slowing down and your heart gets back to its normal pace, youâre freezing.Â
You yell out for Joel, whoâs still going quite fast. He halts completely, letting you catch up with his step.Â
âWe have to stop, Iâm freezing.â
You werenât wearing all your layers and you knew it would be detrimental if you didnât stop to wrap up before you two continued your journey. Joel nods, trotting off the main part of the road into some woods.Â
When you get off your horse, you can feel Joelâs eyes lock onto your vibrating body.Â
âJesus, girl,â He dismounts, wrapping his reigns around a nearby branch, âThe wind do you that much damage?â
You canât help but laugh as you rifle through your pack to find your extra layers. You can remember packing two thermals, but with the way youâre shaking, you canât even grip onto the clothes to move them around to search. You donât even realize Joel has come to your side, you only notice when he nudges your side with his three fingers. You move out of his way so he can look, but you canât help but feel the warmth his gentle touch gives you on your hip.Â
He pulls out a thermal, handing it out to you.Â
âJust put it over your other long sleeve,â He instructs, digging for another layer for you. You take his advice and throw it over your head. When your head pops through the neck hole, you spot him smirking at you.Â
âIf you donât warm up soon, I may have to share my body heat so we can get back on the road,â Joel jokes, watching you pull your hair out of the back of your long sleeve. You didnât hate the sound of that, truthfully.Â
âGuess I will try my best not to warm up then.â
He shakes his head, grabbing onto your other thermal, âYou canât say stuff like that to me, darling.â
âWhy not?â
Joel has slipped up a couple of times already, he wasnât planning on giving in. But the teasing was fun and light-hearted. He knew in his heart it was not going to turn into anything.Â
Right?
âBecause I donât think itâs a very good idea for us to talk like that to one another,â He explains, stepping back as you add the other shirt onto your already warming body, âMay lead us somewhere we canât come back from.â
You swallow, âMaybe Iâd like that.â
-
It takes you a day and a half to get back to the cabin. Joel promised that you two could spend a whole day there if need be. You two were physically and mentally exhausted. The horses needed rest too, you could tell Ranger was beat.Â
When you arrive on the property, Joel makes sure to scope out a radius before you two settle in. Ever since the sly passes you made at him, heâs been more quiet. You can tell heâs deep in thought. Maybe it wasnât about you, but he had something on his mind.Â
You use the fire stove to warm up some water from the lake to give yourself a quick âbathâ. You just used an old rag and some bar soap to scrub your limbs, trying to get off all the caked-on dirt. Joel stayed outside by the fire, cooking up some squirrels he was able to trap. You stood in your undergarments, lathering your skin, watching him from the window as he poked at the fire.Â
You felt a bit better once you were clean. The growl in your stomach was dull and kind of painful. You needed to eat, so you got your dirty clothes back on and headed outside to prop yourself up next to Joel.Â
When you open the cabin door, his head snaps over to you.Â
âHowdy, cowboy,â You gleam, walking down to the stump next to him. You couldnât help but flirt now. It was funny to watch him squirm, the glint in his eyes not hard to notice.Â
âYou all clean?â
You nod, giving him a cheeky smile. âYeah, now you go get yourself all cleaned up.â
He grabs his stick poker, âDonât got any soap.â
âUse mine.â
Joel stops his motion immediately to train his eyes back on you. âYou want me to smell like you?â
âWell, I smell delicious, so why not?â
He scans your body with his eyes, âCause if we get home and your Dad smells your soap on me, heâll put it bullet between my eyes.â
You know heâs being dramatic, finding any excuse to opt out of using the soap you just used on your body.Â
âSo, what youâre saying is,â You clear your throat before continuing, âIf my dad wasnât your friend, youâd lather yourself with my soap?â
He contemplates for a moment, âYeah, and other things.â
Your heart stops beating for a second. Joel can not help but smirk at your reaction. He was playing with fire, literally and figuratively. The tension between you two was so heavy, that you do not think you could even take a deep breath in.Â
He stands up from his spot next to you. âWhy donât ya eat, sweet thing? I have to clean myself up, I guess.â
-
Joel can not do this.Â
You were his friendâs daughter. Sure you were grown, beautiful, strong-willed, and everything he could want and more but he could not take advantage of you. The only way he felt this way right now was because tensions were so high back in Salt Lake. You two have spent a lot of time together, the hormones⌠what the fuck is he thinking?
You sit by the fire, your stomach doing back flips as you think about Joel in the cabin, by himself, practically half naked.Â
Why were you doing this to yourself?
Your heart is racing faster than it ever has. No clicker, no stranger, nothing has made you this nervous. Your hand reaches for the door handle, but before you can turn it, Joel rips open the door.Â
âWhat do you think youâre doing?â
You stand there, dumbfounded. âI-I donât know.â
Heâs standing over you, his chest rising faster the more you keep your eyes trained on him. He has a green flannel on, the top couple of buttons undone. You lift your hand to touch the skin peeking through, but he stops your movements before you can make contact. You note the scent of wood burning in the cabin and itâs a lot warmer than you left it. Joel must have started the stove again.Â
âWe canât.â
You shake your head, âNo, we canât, can we?â
You two know better. You know better. You know better.Â
You are breathing in each otherâs spaces. You donât even want to look him in the eyes. His arm snakes around your midsection, pulling you forward into the cabin. At that moment, you knew that you two didnât know any better.Â
Itâs almost like you two silently made the decision.Â
âWe canât tell anyone about this, sweet girl,â He whispers, his hands still firmly on your back. You could not resist this temptation anymore. He was right in front of you, wanting you just as badly as you wanted him.Â
Your eyes glance up at his dark sultry gaze, âItâs our little secret.â
His hand reaches up, gracing your chin with his touch. When he dips down to meet your height, you finally get bold and extend your hand up and around his neck. Your lips connect and you feel like a million little butterflies explode in your stomach. You had never desired a kiss from anyone as much as you did with Joel.Â
Heâs eager and impatient, though. Heâs not as soft as you imagined for a man who hardly spoke. He just wants to feel you everywhere, all at once. His mouth melts into yours, his tongue exploring every inch of yours. Heâs moving you around the room, stumbling over furniture and shoes as he backs you into the large wooden bed frame.Â
âSo fuckinâ perfect,â He mumbles into your lips as soon as he lifts you up onto the mattress. It catches you by surprise, mainly because you never expected him to manhandle you in this way. Heâs hungry for every inch of you. After all these months of secretly pining for him and him not giving you any positive response, you never anticipated something like this happening. Especially at a time like this.Â
âJoel,â You whine, pulling him down on top of you as you fall back into the flannel blankets, âI need you everywhere.â
He grins peppering kisses down your neck, âDonât worry, I will treat you so fuckinâ good. Been wantinâ you for so long.â
It was so filthy and hot. Your dadâs patrol partner, his best friend. Keen to make you feel good? And wanting it for a while? You must be imagining his words because you canât even comprehend the situation.Â
But itâs true. Joelâs secretly been watching you when youâre not looking. When you sling drinks on Friday nights, he watches you from a booth in the corner. Tommyâs caught him a couple of times, smacking him and reminding him that you were off limits. When you came to his house with extra pot pie or soup, he would watch you walk away from his house from his living room window.Â
This taboo yearning kept him up at night. But now, he has you alone and he needs a taste.Â
He pulls back to look at your face, âAre you sure you want me?â
You canât help but giggle a bit.Â
âJoel, Iâve been wanting you for longer than I would like to admit,â You purse your lips as you bring your hand up to trace his collarbone, âThink about you all the time.â
It was the truth. Your mind was taken up but all his little sly comments. The way he would drop anything to help you or your dad. His beautiful brown eyes didnât help one bit either.
âMy god, girlâŚGonna have me cumming in my jeans like a teenager.â
He returns to laying kisses all along your body. It started with wet kisses down your neck, only for it to trail right where your shirt begins, right below your collarbones. You push him back for a moment, taking your shirt off over your head. He watched you carefully, ensuring there was no hesitancy with your actions. He wanted to be absolutely positive that this is what you wanted.Â
As soon as you reach for the clasp of your bra, Joel grabs your arms away.Â
âLet me,â He mumbles, letting his fingers trace along the seam of the black fabric before using his right hand to undo the back. With him this close to you again, you inhale sharply, catching the scent of your soap.Â
âSee you took up my offer,â You tease, letting your bra fall down your shoulders, âDid you get clean just for this, Miller?â
He catches a glimpse of you under the bra and his mind goes blank. You notice his change in disposition and decide itâs best to discard every other article of clothing completely. You struggle to get your jeans off, so he helps by practically ripping them off your legs. He canât help but spot the soak undies attached to your jeans. When you are bare under him, he gawks at you for a moment.Â
âA beautiful woman like you,â He shakes his head, biting his lip. He unbuckles his pants before he stands and shoves them down his legs. While heâs making an effort to get as naked as you, you start unbuttoning his flannel. He watches you take your time, thumbing each button slowly. He tilts your head back up, his eyes leering at you for a moment. âAnd you want someone like me?â
You know heâs probably in his own head, so you feel the need to prove to him, that yes this is what I want.Â
You grab onto his neck and pull him back down into a passionate kiss. When you notice him give in, you use all your might to push him sideways and onto his back next to you. You mount his lap immediately, holding him down with your body weight. Your soaked slit trudges over his large hard-on while you dip your head to capture his lips. You feel his hands trail up the sides of your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He finds your boobs, palming them with his warm calloused hands. You were extra sensitive so as soon as his fingers find your nipples, youâre moaning into his mouth.Â
When your hips jet forward, his tip slides between your pussy lips. The sensation sends him into overdrive, his grip on your waist getting tighter. Heâs so fucking big.Â
âNo foreplay, you just wanna grind your pussy right onto my cock?â His question sends shockwaves through your body and you raise your hips up off his crotch. You kneel over him, anticipating to rotate your pelvis back onto him, but he has other ideas.Â
Because Joel has been thinking about what you taste like for too long. He canât just fuck you. He lays back, all the while, dragging you up to his chest so your pussy is hovering over his pursed lips.Â
âJoel, what are you doing?â
You feel his hot breath huff onto your slick center, âIâm gonna devour this beautiful pussy, first. Need to get you warmed up.â
Without any warning, he wraps his arms around your thighs and pushes your center closer to his outstretched tongue. You gasp when he starts to run his tongue up and down your slit. You canât help but settle around his face, your knees feeling like they may already give out.Â
Youâve never sat on someoneâs face and watched them eat you out like a starved man. But Joel is precise with his motions, his mouth wrapping around your clit. When he starts to suck, the suction noise makes you whimper and shake. You have only ever cum by your own hand, so when the familiar heat rises in your stomach, you know instantly this is going to be the best sex youâve ever had in your life.Â
Joel is a very easy man to please. He thoroughly enjoys watching women crumble above him, their orgasms surging through their bodies while his tongue is pressed into them. But with you, he wants to drudge it out of you over and over again. Youâre so magnetic on top of him, your head thrown back in pleasure. Your hands rest on your shoulders as you grind down on him, your peak teetering the edge. He shimmies his hand in between your thighs and begins to use his fingers in you, just to drive you crazier. Heâs fucking up into you with his pointer and middle fingers, managing to latch onto your clit while he does.Â
When you tumble into bliss, Joel moans into you, egging on your spasms. You lurch forward, dragging your center off his drenched lips. Your legs are limp as you try to crawl up the bed. Joel rolls over, creeping up the bed with you. You lay on your back, propping yourself up onto some of the pillows.Â
âDo you need a break?â He asks, his hands feeling up your bare, still kind of shaking, thighs. You shake your head âyesâ and breathe out loudly. Your body is covered in a light sheen, the sweat pooling around your hairline. Joel lets you take a moment, making sure you are completely ready for him.Â
When you finally meet his eyes, your stomach fills with butterflies. Heâs admiring you from his position, his eyes not finding yours until heâs done checking out your bare chest. You giggle, tugging on his wrists. He takes up your advances, positioning himself above you. Heâs caging you in with his tanned strong arms, only allowing you to really move your upper body. You tangle your hands through his messy dark peppered curls, which makes him sigh. He secretly loved it when women felt through his hair.Â
âFuck me,â He groans as he reaches down between you, grabbing ahold of his hard member. You watch as he drags it through your heat, gathering all your wetness before teasing your entrance.Â
âJoel, please.â
He smirks, pushing in just his tip, âPlease what, baby girl? You want me to give you all of it?â
You are already overstimulated after your last orgasm and you are a bit nervous to imagine what all of it is. You nod, though, because the stretch is already so delicious.Â
âPlease, Joel, please. I need it,â You whine, knowing how desperate you sound. Itâs music to Joelâs ears.Â
âShh, baby,â He eases in further, âI told you Iâm gonna treat you real good. Gonna treat this pussy, so fuckinâ good.â
When heâs fully sheathed in you, your nails are digging into his shoulders. When he eases back to pull out some to ensure you can take it, youâre a moaning mess. It only eggs him on, feeling how slick you are and how tight you are around him.Â
âThatâs right baby, take all of me,â He says as he lifts himself off you. You have nothing to grip onto now, except the sheets that line the queen-sized bed. Joel wants to watch himself slip out of you and go back into you with ease. You love the friction, but you know you need more.Â
You donât know how, but itâs like he reads your mind. He starts to increase his pace, holding onto the back of your thighs as he drills into you. The curvature of his dick hits exactly where no man could ever reach.Â
âOh my god, fuck Joel! Fuck!â
Your words only encourage him to go harder and faster.
âKeep screaminâ my name, baby doll.â
The sweat is dripping down his face with how much effort heâs putting into fucking you. Youâre floored at how quickly your orgasm builds again, the sounds of him plowing into you alone sends you into overdrive.Â
As soon as you start to vibrate under him, Joel takes that as a great time to start thumbing at your clit. You feel every one of your nerve endings burning with such rapture, that you canât even say anything. Youâre just howling, no coherent words even coming out. Your vision goes white.
The scene is something out of the old pornos Joel used to watch. Youâre writhing under him, the orgasm practically sending you cross-eyed. You reach up to anchor yourself down and the only thing you can find to grab is Joelâs forearm.Â
âYes, Joel!â
His hips continue to snap into yours as you squeeze his cock with your gyrating hips. Heâs fucking you through it, watching your face contort. Your grip on his arm hurts, but he does not care. Itâs unbelievably hot to watch the girl he has adored from afar cumming around him. Over and over.Â
The scene is enough to have him chasing down his own high. The feeling of your cunt gripping onto him so tight, while his name is chanted from your lips, the cum practically shoots out of him before he has time to grab his shaft and pull out. He does not empty himself in you though, quickly prying himself out of your weeping hole and spilling out the rest onto your stomach.Â
âShit.â
You donât even realize what happened, not caring about really anything except for how wonderful and high you feel. Joel tumbles onto his side, half of his body resting on yours. His mouth is close to your ear so he whispers it to you, his voice shaky.Â
âI came inside you.â
You lick your lips, trying to regain some saliva in your mouth, âI do not care, Joel.â
He does not prefer that answer, but he accepts it for the time being. You could not feel your face at the moment, you did not have time to worry yourself over Joel cumming inside you. It was not the first time someone did that.Â
Joel rolls off the bed, his legs feeling wobbly with his first steps. Heâs still half hard and stumbling over to the bowl of water he just used to clean off himself. He grabs a clean rag and soaks it in the soapy water. The least he could do was clean up his mess.Â
You watch him trudge over to you, the cum still pooled on your stomach and a bit in your belly button.Â
Joel places the warm towel on your lower tummy, wiping up his mess.Â
âThanks,â You manage to say, your post-orgasm haze wearing off a bit. Now youâre just cold and exhausted. You shiver as soon as he removes the towel from your buzzing body. He notes it immediately and grabs the blanket that had been kicked to the floor. He lays it over you, making sure your full nude body is covered by the chilly air.Â
âI need to go take a leak, Iâll be right back.â
You try to stay awake. But as soon as he gets some clothes on and heads outside to relieve himself, youâre lulled to sleep by the sounds of the rustling woods that surround the cabin.Â
-
When you slowly open your eyes, you instantly notice how dry your mouth is. The itchy fabric of the blanket is tickling your bare limbs as you shift. Joelâs not beside you.Â
You sit up, glancing around the cabin. His stuff is still here, but he is not. You keep the scratchy blanket wrapped around you as you plant your bare feet on the wooden floor. As soon as you take your first step forward towards the front door, it slowly swings open.Â
Joel stands there, fully clothed, cheeks reddened from the cold outdoors.Â
âMorninâ,â He says with a sleepy voice, âGot up early to get the horses fed and saddled up.â
All you remember is him going to pee outside last night, right before you fell asleep. âDid you ever come to bed last night?â
âYeah, only got a couple of hours of sleep. You took up most of the bed.â
You clear your throat, becoming hyper-aware suddenly that you are very naked under the blanket. Joel tries not to notice your natural sensuality when you wake up. Sleepy eyes, swollen lips, slightly tangled hair. Even if last night never happened, he would be completely enamored by you.Â
âOh, okay,â You mutter, trying to act natural about the fact that you slept with Joel fucking Miller last night. âWe all set then?â
He shuts the front door, cutting off any more cold from slipping in. You watch him slowly start to invade your space. He feels pulled towards you, the gravity overcoming every sense he has. He needs to be close to you, touching you, feeling you.Â
âYeah, we are all set.â
Chills run down your spine when his cold hand reaches out and grazes your cheek. You flick your eyelashes towards him, not knowing what to say next. He dips down to your height, kissing your lips carefully. He is nervous you will back away from him, but you donât. You lean forward into him, the weight of your entire body pressing into him.Â
He is the first to pull away, but you swear you could be latched onto him forever. His big brown eyes are lasered in on your eager lips, but in the back of his mind, he knows that you two need to get back home soon. He promised Tommy four days, nothing more. And you needed to get home to your Dad. Fuck. Your Dad. His fuckinâ friend.Â
âWe have to get home,â Is all he says.Â
And then heâs gone. Itâs like he blipped out of the room. You blink and the door slams and you are alone again.Â
-
You stumble out of the cabin with your backpack on, your eyes adjusting to the sunshine between the falling away leaves. Winter creeps in so quickly in Wyoming, you think to yourself.Â
Joel is already posted up on his horse, waiting for you to hurry along and join him. You pet Ranger for a moment before you hop up onto his back. He canât help but realize how perfect you seemed in the sunlight. Your face hasnât aged with time like his. It makes sense because youâre so much younger than him. Youâve lived a very full and traumatic life, sure, but you still had a lot more energy to live. He couldnât picture that youâd want to spend the rest of it with an older guy with maybe 20 more years left in him if youâre lucky.Â
The thoughts start to eat away at him as you two make your way through the forest.Â
You assume heâs just tired from not getting a lot of sleep, so you just keep your lips sealed until you make it to the main trail back home.Â
âSo, when we get home,â You break the quietness with your open-ended statement. Joel doesnât know what youâre insinuating, so he just keeps his head forward. âWhat happens, then?â
He pulls back his horse's reins to position himself looking directly at you.Â
âWhat do you mean?â
You look at him suspiciously, âDo we tell people?â
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Joel thinks.Â
âTell them what?â
He has to be messing, right? You think.Â
But no, heâs deadly serious.Â
âAbout us,â You remark as Ranger trots a bit closer to Joel. He shakes his head and your heart sinks. He canât do this, not after you two slept together.Â
âThere is no us,â He grumbles, unable to look you in the eyes anymore, âWe canât do that. Youâre too young.â
If you werenât on a horse, you wouldâve already smacked him. âWhat the hell, Joel? What if you get in my pants and make me feel special and now we are nothing? Because Iâm a little bit younger than you?â
âNo, itâs not like that-â
âWell, it seems like it is like that,â You bite the inside of your cheeks, holding back every instinct to burst into tears, âFuckinâ asshole. I shouldâve known better.â
-
When the walls of Jackson come into your line of sight, you could cry with excitement. Your hands were shaking, not only from the cold but the nerves. You had been silent the entire ride back. Your only desire was to get home to your Dad and ignore Joel Miller for the rest of your life.Â
You can only hope and pray that your father is on the mend. To keep on track and not let panic take over, youâve tried to put your mind on other things this whole trip. Most of those things you wish youâd forgotten, already.Â
The doors open when you two get close. When the crack is big enough to see through, you spot some familiar faces waiting for you. Tommy, Maria, and even your father. Heâs standing up straight, wrapped in layers of jackets and blankets. You tap Ranger with your foot, getting him to speed up. When you reach about 30 feet away, you practically fall off him to get your arms around your father.Â
A sense of relief floods your body. A tidal wave of happiness and solace. Heâs okay. Heâs alive.Â
When his scent reaches your nose, it triggers your tear ducts. After years of never having to really worry about him, knowing he can handle himself, you have felt this constant state of uneasiness the last week.Â
âMy baby is back,â He grumbles into your hair, his arms locking around you, âI knew I could trust that Joel.â
You donât have time to feel guilt over your actions, youâre just so happy heâs upright. You also donât want to hear his God-forsaken name from your own Dad. When you pull back to inspect his face, you note the tiredness in his eyes. He looks better, but not his normal. You grab each end of the blanket thatâs slowly slipping off his shoulders and bundle him tighter.Â
âLetâs get you back in the warm, how âbout it?â
You glance back at Joel who just nods, knowingly. You remember that you still have your backpack on, so before you stroll away, you shimmy out of it. Tommy watches you carefully as you hand it off to Joel.Â
âGet those meds to the infirmary,â You whisper to no one in particular. Joel studies your face, waiting for you to say something else. You do not. As he grabs your pack, you feel like Maria and Tommy are gawking at you two. Like they know something was left unsaid.Â
You two move differently around each other. When you shift one direction, Joel follows suit.Â
Joel feels like every eye in Jackson is on him. Tommyâs being the most piercing, watching him like a hawk as he grabs his horse and guides him towards the stables. While you stroll away with Maria and your father, Joel and Tommy bring the horses and supplies to the stables.Â
As you walk, you listen to Maria explain your fatherâs steady recovery. She mentions how Ellie has been keeping a careful eye on him. After she heard you and Joel were going to be gone together, she asked Maria if she could help him somehow. Once your dad got well enough to walk, she got him settled in your house. Sheâd go over there for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, just to help. It makes your heart swell when you hear your dad say how kind and generous she was, just like you.Â
-
Joel starts to unpack your bags from your horse first when he gets the horses parked.Â
âSomethinâ happen out there?â Tommy presses, noticing how odd you and Joel moved in front of him, âWith her?â
âNo, nothinâ,â He lies, placing your bags on a table near Ranger. When he lifted the first duffle bag, he got a whiff of you and it made his stomach sink. âWe just had a rough spot in the hospital. Clickers and shit. Nothinâ too crazy-â
âJoel, I know when youâre lyinâ to me,â His eyes are shooting daggers now. Joel was too old to be pestered by his little brother. He groans in annoyance but Tommy does not give up, âWhat did you do?â
âI didnât do nothinâ, Tommy.â
âBullshit,â He grumbles, grabbing one of your bags, âWant me to ask her?â
âYou wonât get anythinâ out of her. Sheâs mad at me, okay? She is pissed I wonâtâŚâ
He feels humiliated, his stomach twisting into knots. He would never intentionally hurt you. He just put his foot in his mouth when he realized how much your actions would change everything for him. He could not just be someone you slept with. He could not just leave it.Â
âYou wonât what, Joel?â
He bites his lip, not wanting to say it out loud.Â
âI wonât let her ruin her life for me.â
Tommyâs eyebrows furrow, not completely understanding what heâs droning on about.Â
âWhat?â
âJesus Christ, Tommy!â Joel wasnât anticipating a shake-down when he got home. You two really didnât help with those looks splattered across your faces when you rolled into Jackson.
âYou slept with her, didnât you?â
Joel shakes his head, peeling his eyes away from Tommy. Joel knew nothing could get past him, so he is practically surrendering. Tommy knew then.Â
âYou dumbass,â He whispers, getting closer to Joel, âYou slept with her when her daddy is your patrol partner? After I told you to stay away?â
Joel clenches his teeth, âI donât need this right now. Iâm gettinâ these meds to the infirmary and then Iâm takinâ her stuff to her.â
âJoel-â
âJust fuckinâ drop it, Tommy. I ainât doinâ this.â
-
Your Dad has a nice setup, thanks to Ellie. She has transformed the downstairs guest room into a wonderful stay, with tons of pillows and bedside service. When you get inside the house, Ellie is there. She stands in the corner of the living room, timidly, as you guide your dad back to his warm bed. Maria and her wait for you to handle getting him back to his bedroom. Even though his recovery has been a steady incline, heâs very weak and exhausted all the time. Itâs his bodyâs reaction to fighting a rough illness, but he made sure to reassure you that Sidney told him itâll be a couple of weeks before heâs 100% back to normal.Â
You get him back in bed, his eyes already drooping to find slumber again. You manage to get his shoes off and help him under his covers. Once his head hits the pillow, you stand by the bed for a minute to ensure heâs actually sleeping. You slip out of the room, and the sudden rush of comfort of being home takes over your senses. To hear the crackling of the fireplace, and the smell of your homemade candles. While you enjoyed every moment spent with Joel, thereâs nothing like home.Â
For a second there, you thought you had that same feeling being next to him in bed. But maybe you were wrong.Â
You walk out to where Maria and Ellie stand. They are mumbling to each other while you kick off your boots by the door.Â
âHey, Ellie,â You catch her attention, her freckled face down turning with concern. You smile, trying to ease her, âThank you for all youâve done here. I am glad he had someone like you looking after him.â
She nods, her lips twitching, âItâs no problem at all. I know how much you two mean to Joel and I just wanted to do what I could.â
Hearing his name sinks your heart, âWe owe ya one.â
Because you did. No matter what would eventually transpire between you and Joel, you owe him your fatherâs life. His idea saved him. With how sick he was, Joelâs quick plan was enough to bring him home. Then for Ellie to spend her days looking after him while you two were gone? You were forever indebted to them. Sadly.Â
âWell, we should leave you to get settled. Let us know if you need anything at all,â Maria gestures to Ellie towards the front door. Their footsteps trail around you, heading to your front door. Before Ellie can reach for the handle, thereâs a knock. You nod your head, letting her know itâs okay to open it.Â
Joel stands there, your bags in his hands.Â
You honestly just left your belongings for him to deal with. Joel looks down at Ellie, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. Sheâs not as impressed, initially.Â
âHey kiddo,â Joel acknowledges, before spotting Maria, âMrs. Miller.â
âWe were just heading out,â Maria says, pushing the door wider so she and Ellie can slip by his large frame, âGive the girl her things and let her settle back into her life, huh?â
Joel was already annoyed at the narrowed eyes and judgemental jabs. Itâs like everyone somehow knew he fucked up.Â
You two watch Maria and Ellie leave, their breaths forming clouds in the cold sharp air. Jacksonâs weather changed overnight, you think, remembering how it was more tolerable before you left.Â
âCan I come in?â Joel ponders, still holding your backpack and duffle.Â
It was cold and while you wanted to slam the door on him, you know you canât. You move away from the threshold, gesturing for him to come in. His footfalls are heavy and drawn out. You shut the door, waving him towards the living room so your voices donât carry down the hallway to your fatherâs newly set up bedroom.Â
He places your bags on the couch before he stretches his shoulders in discomfort. Your stuff was not that heavy, but Joel could not help but try to draw your attention. He glances around your living room, taking in some of the artwork and photos that line the walls. Some are old photos of you and your father, in which you donât really resemble him at all.Â
âBack to how things were, huh?â You remark, bitterly. You wanted to attack him with every mean thing plaguing your mind, but you donât. You were tired from all the travels but you were also tired of the idea of fighting for someone who does not care to fight for you back. You had done that for years with pointless boys.Â
The whole walk to your house, Joelâs thoughts were moving a million miles a minute. He did not want you to live your life resenting him. He cared for you deeply, but he did not want you to miss out on all the wonders of life. Joel could not give you kids. He could not give you 40 more years of happiness. He would be an elderly man before you could even reach menopause. He does not want you to regret things when youâre old and gray.Â
âI donât want that. You know damn well I donât want that.â
You could scream. But you stay even, not giving in to the temptation to just rip him a new one.Â
âI donât know what you want, Joel. One minute youâre kissinâ me and begging to be with me, the next youâre telling me you canât be with me because Iâm too young.â
âBaby-â
âNo! Donât you dare? You had no intention of making this a thing, yet you played into it and got exactly what you wanted. Iâm just another notch for you, ainât I?â
Your hands are clenched, waiting for his delayed response. You are embarrassed and humiliated that you were delusional enough to let Joel toy with every one of your emotions.Â
âYou know that ainât true, girl. I just donât want you to live your life regretting that I was a part of it, okay? You want to spend your days with an old man who canât give you everything you want? âm not good for you.â
He canât let you make this mistake.Â
But youâre not easing up.Â
âWhat do you think I want? Kids? A simple life? A picket fence? Joel those are things I wanted when I was living in a world that didnât have a brain-eating infection thatâd turn people into zombies,â Youâre huffing and puffing, trying to understand why he thinks he can tell you what you need and want.Â
âI spent years of my life wishing I could get those things, but I gave up a long ass time ago. I donât want those things nearly as much as I want you. I fuckinâ want you, okay?â
You realize youâre not being quiet and your Dad could probably hear every word falling from your lips. He can hear you desperately plead with Joel Miller to be with you.Â
Joel is shocked youâre laying all this out. He canât believe his ears when you say you want him. A man like him being wanted is quite unbelievable, especially by a woman like you.Â
You could hear a pin drop with how silent your house is. You fold your arms, trying not to give into the nausea you feel from spilling your soul to him.Â
âI justâŚâ He fidgets with his hands for a minute before those puppy eyes glance up at you, âI donât want to ruin your life.â
You step closer to him, your face inches away from him. You train your eyes on his mouth, unsure how to respond to such blasphemy.Â
âI have spent so many days thinking about what itâd be like to live in a world where the Joel Miller would even glance in my direction. I imagined what itâd be like to kiss him,â Youâre whispering now, making sure this revelation is for his ears only, âI imagined what itâd be like to have a man whoâd treat me well and look⌠Exactly like you. I have dreamed of you.â
Joel would have never guessed such a statement fall from your lips.Â
You breathe out, relieved itâs finally off your chest.
âI just donât want to leave ya worse than I found ya,â His softness instantly makes you crumble into his arms. He holds you tight, before pulling away to search your face. You teeter forward on your toes, pressing a firm but attentive kiss to his lips.Â
When you draw back, âIâm not givinâ you up, Joel.â
The tension is shattered when you hear your Dad yell your name from down the hallway. You snap out of your trance of staring at Joelâs beautiful lips and dart toward the voice.Â
âYeah?â
You open the door and see him, his eyes wide open and focused on the door.Â
âWho you talking to out there? Is that Joel?â
Suddenly youâre hyper-aware of every word you just said, scared half to death that your Dad would get out of bed and beat some sense into you. Joel follows you down the dimly lit hallway, but you donât even hear him, too rattled by your fatherâs question.Â
âYes, itâs me,â Joel speaks up, coming forward to meet your Dadâs confused expression, âHow you feelinâ, man?â
âIâm feelinâ like Iâm hearing some odd things from down the hall. You two fighting?â His voice is breaking a bit.Â
The silence after he asks the question is deafening. You glance over to Joel whose mouth is slightly ajar, unable to move with an answer. You bite the inside of your cheek, wishing you could disappear into the wall nearby.Â
Joel cannot lie to his friend. He certainly would never do it with you right beside him.Â
âYeah, you uh, heard us?â He barely manages.Â
âYeah, I sure as hell heard my daughter begginâ you to take her on, is that true?â
âDad-â
âMy daughter wants to date a man thatâs 10 years younger than her own father? Kind of twisted.â He snaps, shoving the blankets off his legs. âBut, I am gonna be honest⌠I expected this.â
You can hardly breathe with the tension in the air.Â
âSorry?â
Joelâs tone is dry, and heâs unable to fully form a coherent thought.Â
Your dad coughs before he starts, âWell, I could tell by the way you looked at her that you had a thing for her, Miller. Didnât think youâd be dumb enough to entertain it.â
âDad, heâs not dum-â
âAnd I thought youâd get over this little schoolgirl crush, but I was mistaken, I guess.â
You were used to your Dadâs sarcasm and upfront jabs. You spent a lifetime throwing them back at him, but this time you had nothing to say. You watch as he settles back from obnoxiously tearing off his blankets.Â
You fiddle with your fingers, trying not to show your internal anxiety-riddled monologue. He thought youâd get over your crush. He always noticed how Joel looked at you. How did he look at you? How did you never notice?
Joel is spiraling, reverting to his original conclusions. He knew this was a horrible idea. He should have never stepped over the line. Heâs a horrible man. You donât deserve someone as awful as him.Â
He smacks his lips, making you and Joel come back down to Earth and out of your heads.Â
âWhatever is happeninâ between you two, I probably will never fully understand it. But you are adults, you do whatever makes you happy,â He says with both hands up in surrender, âI am too old to bother with my daughterâs love life. Sheâs a big girl, I trust her. But Miller, if you hurt her-â
âIâm a dead man.â
Your father laughs which in turn makes you smile crookedly.Â
âJust one thing,â He points to you, âI don't want to hear or see anythinâ-â
You nod, cutting him off immediately, âDeal.â
Joel catches your eye when he smiles in your peripheral vision. You look over at him, a grin plastered to your face.Â
You canât believe youâre actually going to do this.Â
And Joel canât believe your father somewhat agreed to let it happen. He was sure he would have a gun in his face before he could even mutter a word. But instead, your Dad is receptive to him being with you, which is all you can ask for.Â
âWell, get along now, I wanna get back to sleep. You two were keepinâ me up,â Your dad grumbles, readjusting his frail frame to get comfortable in bed. You just nod, pointing at the door for Joel to exit. You follow suit, closing the door behind you tightly, making sure it clicks. Joel stands in the darkness of the hallway, waiting. He is in disbelief.Â
You just take one of his hands and bring it to your lips, softly pressing a kiss into his knuckles.Â
âLetâs go get cleaned up and take a nap,â You murmur, walking him to the end of the hallway to the bottom of the stairs. He accepts the offer, trailing behind you like a lost puppy.Â
You were not sure where this was all going to end up. Neither of you did. But you could not wait to carve the way with him, bringing every last one of your daydreams to life.
THE END
or is it? I have started writing snippets to go along with this story- if you want more, here's the link:
No One Fucks With My Baby
#joel miller fic#joel miller#joel x reader#joel miller x fem reader#joel miller smut#pedro pascal#joel miller the last of us#joel miller tlou#joel the last of us#joel miller fanfic#joel last of us smut#joel miller x reader#the last of us#post outbreak joel#dbf joel#dbf joel miller#gracieheartspedro#fic: who we are
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Things About My Jason
aka things that might weasel their way into details of stories one day, might not
your boy is clocking in at 6â4 + 3/4 inches and about 245 lbs (heâs the only batkid to be taller than bruce).Â
he cusses a lot it, usually doesnât correlate w anger or intensity its just how he expresses himself. heâll cuss at you sometimes but not at you and he tries his best to never do it out of anger.
heâs never said it out loud but he would drop all the vigilante shit for you in a heartbeat if you wanted him to (i think heâs also the only batfam member who would do that).
you have an agreement in place to never make any big decisions in the middle of the night/post patrolâthis came into place after a few too many bad nights had him coming home shaking and panicked about your safety and convinced he needed to leave you alone for good.Â
he kind of zones out sometimes, its bordering on dissociation.
you have a black cat, salem, thatâs been around since before you and jason had even met. his yellow eyes pierce you in a way that feels like heâs glaring straight into your soul and judging what he sees. he was suspicious of jason for a while but over time has come to love and protect jason almost as much as you.
he has a lot of nervous habits that have built up over years of stress and trauma. heâll often double or even triple check locks and cameras. his hand tends to go to where his gun holster would be, regardless of whether or not its there. heâs very conscious of your breathing, especially when youâre asleep, and when heâs stressed or upset heâll try to align his breathing with yours. he worries that you might get annoyed with how often he checks up on you, be it asking directly, texting you, or just looking you over to make sure youâre doing okay, that youâre happy. heâs also made a habit of standing directly behind you when youâre wearing anything short, especially skirts or dresses. Youâre not entirely sure if itâs intentional or not.
day to day, he runs on very little sleep naturally so heâs awake early goes to bed late. he used to not focus much on making meals that actually taste good and have thought put into them until he started dating you. he started catering his grocery trips specifically with you in mind and the things you might like. he actually prefers going on grocery trips and little mundane errands with you bc he had no idea that these tiny aspects of life could bring him so much joy and peace. he also buys you new towels and updates your first aid kit constantly, though the latter is more out of his necessity than yours. depending on his mood, heâll usually either take scalding hot or freezing showers.Â
heâs 100% down to let you decorate the apartment however you want, even if you move into his place. his only ask is that heâs left with space to put his books (of which ne needs plenty). if he had to choose, he probably likes a warm atmosphere best, in terms of like lighting and colors. heâs really just not a fan of anything that feels cold or impersonal like the manor can sometimes seem. other than that he doesnât really have opinions on it, whatever makes you happy heâll like. but heâll still happily go shopping with you to find stuff. but really thatâll just look like you saying âooh look at thisâ and him saying âgreat, lets get itâ at every single thing you pick up.Â
there are unloaded guns and ammo hidden around your apartment and also stocked generously in a closet or two. he cleans them regularly, you think he does it partially as a kind of stress reliever. before you he didnât have too much regard for his own safety, so he would sleep with one under his pillow.Â
he does everything he can to keep you safe and heâll insist on adding extra locks to the doors and windows, ones the landlord wont have keys to. yeah heâs paranoid so heâll keep the bed as far from the door as possible and is unrelenting in his insistence that you sleep on the wall side. if youâre too tired to move, thatâs okay, heâll gently move you over himself. honestly though, your apartment is just as secure, if not more, than any of his safe houses. as such, he absolutely can and will easily hack into the lobby security cameras to check up on things. if he has to go away for a while heâll send one of his siblings to stop by to check on you and make sure you're okay.Â
he prefers to wear layers, it makes him feel more secure and comfortable. he does like cutoff sleeves sometimes but only because you like them on him. aside from that, heâs usually not such a fan of showing much skin because of a) his scars and b) he feels exposed to attacks. he has so many long sleeved and warm clothes in his closet that he heavily encourages you to bundle up in some of them when its cold.Â
he goes through phases of bad sleep and they can vary greatly in severity. thereâs nights he just physically cannot sleep and this usually originates from intense anxiety. these are easier to ease him back from and some simple comforting will be enough to get him to at least try to sleep. most commonly its the nightmares that make it hard for him. itâll usually be a one-off that he just canât fall back asleep afterwards. the worst is when he goes through phases of frequent nightmares, like every night, multiple times a night. when that happens, he will do everything in his power to stay awake for as long as he can. youâve yet to find any techniques that hands down prevent or even slow the nightmares, but youâve been able to find some remedial measures that work pretty well.
kissing him helps get his mind off scary thoughts (but not joker related) but not just like single peck itâs got to be a whole session to really work. the one that works best is having a hand on one of your pulse points while you sleep, or directly over your heart. unfortunately this did lead to him to accidentally choking you after a particularly bad nightmare. he was absolutely horrified and removed his hands from you completely the second he gained recognition. he actually fully got out of bed and backed away from you. he wouldnât even hear you out about him not sleeping on the couch and continued to not budge on it for over a week.Â
him punishing himself like that made you feel extra bad because that had occurred during a round of the relentless nightmares and you were sure he was still waking up panicked constantly without you there to help soothe him. you actually know for a fact he was because every couple of hours the bedroom door would creak open slightly before shutting again like he was checking to make sure you were there and okay. you ended up having to literally lay on top of him on the couch and refuse to leave him for him to agree to sleep in bed with you again, although he was still not willing to fall asleep with his hands on you for a while.Â
he always needs it to be quiet when he goes to sleep so he can stay on alert which usually leads to him waking up to the littlest sounds, which is technically the point. if thereâs any kind of white noise heâll force himself to stay awake. if he does get woken up heâll go from 0 to 100 like that. he also needs the door to be shut, non negotiable, and really prefers the apartment to be colder > hotter. it also helps that youâll cuddle into him for warmth.
all of these things are things he did before you met, but heâd also developed some new habits after you got together. he used to sleep in the middle of the bed but now he absolutely insists that you sleep on the wall side so he can act as a protective barrier between you and any incoming danger. unless its after a rough patrol, he tends to wait to sleep until after youâve fallen asleep. he doesnât really have a reason for this, it just makes him feel better.
his relationship with bruce is complicated, of course. in my canon, the extent of it is that bruce didnât kill the joker, prevented jason from doing it, and has made many attempts to stop jason from killing at all. obviously itâs not the fact that batman wonât let anybody die that broke jasonâs heart, itâs that his father couldnât let go of his moral code for a second and avenge his murdered son. the resulting anger stems from so much sadness and grief over his own death and it caused him to isolate himself even further from bruce. on a conscious level, he wanted to be far away from him emotionally as possible to protect himself while still enacting his own kind of revenge towards bruce. and so yeah, he did try to kill batman a couple times, whatever.
on an unconscious level, heâd hoped that bruce would take the initiative to try to close the space between them and apologize, and while jason didnât know it yet: that was all he really wanted from him. inwardly, he still cares what bruce thinks and wants his approval and affection but its so conflicting for him. it also doesnât help that it took bruce such a long time to swallow his pride and even consider that he was wrong before he could apologize. a lot of negotiations had to take place before they could even begin to really reconcile.Â
about a year later theyâd come to a steady, solid agreement that mostly worked for both of them. jason was allowed to kill, but only within his territory in gotham and only under agreed upon circumstances. thereâs also a separate rule that jasonâs not allowed out on patrol when the joker is looseâit used to be a whole thing before youâd met and oftentimes several bats were assigned to keep him away. even with these guidelines in place, things were still rocky between them and jason had only just started to come back around the manor when heâd met you. honestly you and bruce meeting was a major step in this process and everyone could feel the shift.
his relationship with his brothers is different, but just as complicated. he kind of views dick as being perfect in spite of also acknowledging his flaws. in his head, its sort of like, in comparison to himself, dick had the perfect life with perfect versions of all the same pitfalls jason had to go through. he knows its not really fair to think of it this way, but itâs hard sometimes. all in all though, he does look up to dick a lot.Â
with tim, he thinks heâs a crazy rich kidâwhich, fairâbut also in a weird way holds a lot of respect for tim for not being afraid of him. realistically, the way jason showed back up and his relationship with tim started is insane, so its even more insane that tim was like âyeah, chillâ and that probably jump started their bond as brothers more than anything.Â
for as much shit as he gives him, he honestly feels really bad for damian and all the shit he was raised believing. he couldnât quite explain why, but he does see a lot of himself in damian, even past the surface level anger.Â
heâs not good at resolving fights, his mind tends to jump to the absolute worst and he assumes youâre done with him, you resent him, itâs all over. it was really bad at the beginning of your relationship when he hadnât even begun to consider that you love him half as much as he loves you. now, youâve been able to help him understand that you still love him, even when you fight, and fighting does not equal breaking up. however, he still has trouble taking initiative in making amends. not because he doesnât want to but more so because he feels vulnerable in ways that terrify him, having to acknowledge and speak into existence that heâd done something wrong feels like setting himself up to be exposed with no defense.Â
another part of him feels like he already hurt you and if he tries to remedy things with you, he could just make it worse. So for a while at least, youâll have to be the one to start the conversation, though not necessarily meaning you have to apologize first.Â
as we know, Jasonâs not immune to bouts of fear and stress. thereâs times when he panics and thereâs times when he has full blown panic attacks. the panic attacks are rarer, but much more severe. heâs known to lash out (especially when heâs not at your apartment) and has definitely broken a nose or two of people who got too close/tried to touch him. youâre not sure if itâs an intentional action or not, but he tends to claw at his skin or hit himself in the head when heâs very upset. after going through a couple of these with him, youâve compiled a thorough list of DOs and DONTs for these times. DONT hold his wrists, move suddenly, touch him without warning, or corner him. DO keep your touches light, words soft, rooms vacant of other people, and loud noises. slowly but surely theyâre getting less severe and overcome quicker.
#Iâll probably do another part bc i have a lot of ideas that didnât make the cut#jason todd thoughtsâ˘#jason todd loves his gf#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x you#jason todd/you#jason todd imagine#jason todd/reader#jason todd fanfic#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd x reader#red hood imagine#my canon#red hood x reader#red hood x you#red hood fanfic#red hood fanfiction#red hood x y/n#batfam imagine#batfam x you#batfam fanfiction
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bad idea right
for @steddiesongfics July prompt using song lyrics from âbad idea rightâ by olivia rodrigo
rated e | 1569 words | cw: alcohol, super mildly dubious consent because of the alcohol | tags: angst with a happy ending, post break up, exes to lovers, getting back together, sex
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Eddie isnât afraid to admit that he makes mistakes. Sometimes, he makes big ones.
Answering the call from Steve is the first big one.
âSteve?â Itâs been almost a year since heâs heard from him, their breakup being the finite end to any and all communication. âYou okay?â
âEddie! Oh my god. So Iâm out right now, and Iâm all fucked up, and I was thinkinâ âbout that time I got so drunk you had to carry me to my bed.â Eddieâs listening to Steve, but he feels like his soul is leaving his body. âYou remember how gentle you were? You were so worried about tripping up the stairs and you kept cussing when you lost your grip. You kissed my head when you thought I was asleep.â
Steveâs words are slurred, but Eddie can make them out fine. He was good at understanding Steve all the time, even inebriated.
âI knew you were awake,â he gulps. Robinâs gonna kill him for even entertaining Steve like this. Actually, speaking of her- âIs Robbie with you?â
âNo.â Eddie can hear the pout on his lips. âSheâs on a date with her girlfriend.â
Right. Sheâd mentioned that to Eddie yesterday when they were texting about plans for next weekend.
Robin had refused to be split between her two best friends when they broke up, and rightfully so. She may have been Steveâs platonic soulmate, but she knew that what happened between them wasnât Eddieâs fault. She made sure to spend time with Eddie when Steve was otherwise busy.
âAre you good to get home? I can send an Uber for you.â Eddie offers even though heâs sure Steve thought of that already. Even drunk, he would know how to get home.
âI can get my own Uber.â
âI know.â
âI missed your voice.â
Eddie is doing his fuckinâ best not to make his second big mistake tonight, but itâs not going well. He knows whatâs gonna happen. He knows because heâs weak and loves Steve more than anything even after having his heart torn to pieces by him. Even knowing itâll only lead to more heartbreak.
âYou should get home, Stevie.â
âMissed that, too.â
Itâs quieter on Steveâs end now, like heâs stepped away from whatever club or bar heâs holed up in, maybe outside to get some much needed fresh air. Eddie hopes it sobers him enough to realize what heâs done so he hangs up.
âSteveâŚâ
âCan I come over?â
Eddie makes the second big mistake of the night and says yes.
-
When Steve arrives, heâs a beautiful mess.
Heâs drunk, but the ride mustâve helped a little. His eyes are clear, his cheeks not as flush as they probably were before.
Eddieâs waiting at the door when he gets there, standing with a smile that doesnât belong. Heâs trying to be welcoming to a man who did everything to make sure he felt like he didnât belong.
Steve is in his arms as soon as he makes it to the front door. Eddieâs third big mistake of the night is wrapping his arms around him as if heâd never stopped, as if this last year wasnât the worst of his life and heâs barely made it through.
âSorry I called. I didnât know where to go.â
And now Eddieâs confused. Heâs confused because Steve has an apartment of his own, one that he definitely knew how to get to even when drunk. Even if he didnât, he wouldâve been able to call Robin to help. Or Max. Or Lucas.
And heâs sure that Steveâs been drunk in the last year and not called him.
âWhy couldnât you go home?â
âToo quiet.â
11 months ago, almost to the day, Steve Harrington told Eddie Munson that he was too loud, too hyper, too messy.
11 months ago, Eddie Munson gathered whatever he could find in four minutes and left Steveâs apartment for the last time.
11 months ago, Steve ruined a three year relationship because heâd been feeling overwhelmed and didnât tell Eddie until it was too late.
Now, Eddie Munson is sure that Steve Harrington is about to be his fourth big mistake tonight.
âYou wanna come in?â He asks, already knowing Steveâs answer.
âPlease.â
-
Steve is tucked into Eddieâs bed, curled around a pillow, mouth open as he snores quietly. Eddie watches him for a moment before tip-toeing from the room.
Robinâs livid when she answers her phone.
âThis better be good. I was two fingers-â
âSteveâs here.â Eddie interrupts what was sure to be too much information about what Robin was getting up to on her date. âDrunk.â
âHe just showed up at your house?â Robin sounds less mad now, more concerned, though heâs not sure who sheâs more concerned about.
âHe called first.â
âAnd you answered.â
âYeah. Well.â Eddie sighs. âIâm gonna sleep on the couch, but just wanted you to know heâs safe and Iâll make sure he gets home tomorrow.â
âEddie, Iâm so sorry. He said he was just gonna watch a movie tonight or else I wouldâve suggested he go hang with Dustin or something.â
âItâs not your job to babysit him.â Eddie doesnât like the way she said that, but heâs probably reading too much into it. âHeâs an adult.â
âYeah, no. Heâs. I mean, heâs fine. Itâs just that we all try to keep his mind busy sinceâŚya know.â Robin explains, though Eddie feels even more confused.
âSince he specifically told me I was too much for him?â
Robinâs silence speaks volumes.
âEddie?â Steveâs voice is behind him and heâs quick to turn and make sure heâs okay. âSleep?â
âIâll text you,â he whispers to Robin before hanging up and turning to Steve. âYou should go lay down. Iâll bring you some water.â
âYou too?â Steve was blinking slowly, barely awake as he stood in Eddieâs living room.
âI donât think thatâs a good idea, Stevie.â
âIs it because of what I said?â
Itâs not the time for them to have this conversation, and itâs not the time for Eddie to wish he could forget it ever happened so he can hop into bed with Steve. But he thinks Steve is probably sobering up little by little, and if he expects Steve to sleep, he may have to do this.
âYou made it very clear how you felt. Iâm just trying to respect your space until I can get you home tomorrow.â Robin would be proud of how heâs handling this, he thinks. Heâs at least keeping things civil even though his head is screaming at him.
âI didnât mean what I said.â
Eddie stares at him, tries to find the telltale signs of Steve lying. He doesnât see any.
Steveâs too tired and too buzzed to hide it.
âThen why did you say any of it?â Eddie feels his chest constricting, his heartbeat racing the longer he looks at him. âWhy did you make me think I was too much?â
âMy dad came by that day,â Steveâs head falls, his hands wringing in front of him. âMy dad had spent two hours telling me I wasnât enough and that Iâd done nothing but disappoint him and Iâd never be what he wanted. And it wasnât the first time, but it was after my boss gave a promotion to someone else even though I was more qualified and my head was killing me and Robin and I had gotten into a stupid argument that morning and it was a bad day.â
Eddieâs staring at him, mouth wide open, watching as the man he loves falls apart.
âItâs no excuse. I shouldnâtâve said any of it no matter what. Not when itâs not even true. Iâve never felt like youâre too much or too loud.â Steveâs stepping closer now. âIâve always just wanted to soak up whatever energy you have. And I didnât know how to tell you that youâre more than I deserve without saying youâre too much for what I can offer.â
Damn Steve Harrington and his charm, even when buzzed, even when exhaustion is causing him to curl into himself.
Damn Eddieâs inability to avoid his fifth mistake of the night.
He doesnât know if he is the catalyst or if they both are, but suddenly his mouth is on Steveâs and teeth knock together, and thereâs a slight taste of blood on Eddieâs tongue.
Thereâs moans and hands against skin and in hair and hard cocks rubbing against thighs and bruises on hips.
Thereâs Steveâs head hitting the pillow and Eddieâs mouth sucking marks into his stomach and inner thigh and the blanket falling off the bed as they try to strip out of their clothes too fast.
Thereâs laughter and soft touches and nails biting into skin and check-ins.
Thereâs love when Eddie holds his face in his hands as he slides into Steve for the first time in too long, and thereâs hope when Steve cries out for more, and thereâs passion that Eddie knows heâd never find with anyone else.
After, when thereâs sweat and tears and cum and an unfortunate wet spot in the middle of the bed, thereâs whispers of tomorrow and the next day and apologies and promises.
It may have been a bad idea answering Steveâs call, but Eddieâs happy to make more mistakes if it means keeping Steve in his arms and being enough for each other.
#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#steddiesongfics#exes to lovers#getting back together#angst with a happy ending
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Hello again everyone! It's time for another Merlin au! This time featuring Uther's propaganda and a healthy dose of misunderstandings and pain! :D
This au was inspired by an idea that I pitched in a reblog of one of @tamaha's amazing posts! (Also, shoutout to my awesome mutual @achillesuwu, since you asked to be tagged when I wrote this! :) ) You can find that original reblog here!
EDIT: You can find part two of this au here!
In canon, we know that Uther had children drowned for using magic, and that most of those children were likely warlocks who were born with their magic. However, we also know that most people in Camelot believe that magic is a choice and that it's impossible for someone to be born with it, so how did Uther justify to his people both the existence of child warlocks and the killing of children for something that they had no control over?
Well, Uther utilized his propaganda to justify killing young warlocks. He found some ancient text that hypothesized that warlocks got their powers from being reborn demons, and he used those very shoddy sources to justify his actions.
He spun stories about how warlocks looked human, but weren't human at all. He told the people that while those warlock children might have looked like regular humans, they would grow into powerful demons that would hunt down regular humans and eat their souls to gain more power.
Uther's propaganda campaign was successful, and soon, warlocks were some of the most feared magical creatures in Camelot. The people were terrified at the thought of a beast that could consume souls and blend in among them, unable to detected until it was too late.
Warlocks were a regular element of the nightmares of all of the children in Camelot, who would jump at every shadow and wonder if it was a warlock, there to devour them. Arthur was among those children, lying awake late at night, trembling with fear at the thought of any person he passed on the street being a warlock who would eat his very soul, denying him any afterlife and instead turning his soul into more magical power for the warlock.
And fast forward to some point after Arthur's become king, Merlin has a pretty painless magic reveal. Arthur and the knights were out hunting, they all get ambushed by bandits, Arthur takes a bad hit that would probably be fatal, but Merlin rushes to his side and, without hesitation, uses magic to heal Arthur's wound.
Arthur was, of course, very upset to learn that his manservant and best friend has magic, and they have a big argument over it, but no one physically attacks anyone (despite Gwaine's threats to kill Arthur and the rest of the knights and run away with Merlin).
So, everyone endures a rather tense and awkward ride back to Camelot, where Merlin is the recipient of many irate glares from Arthur and reassuring looks from the knights. When they reach Camelot, Arthur bans Merlin from his presence until he calls for Merlin again. He says that he can't stand the sight of Merlin at the moment, but Merlin will owe him a full explanation later. Merlin tearfully agrees and holes himself up in Gaius's chambers for a few days, while Arthur makes an ass of himself with his foul mood, snapping at everyone in the castle.
The knights try to point out to Arthur that while, yes, Merlin had magic and had lied to Arthur, he had only revealed it to save Arthur's life. Most of the knights used that point as a tool to comfort Arthur and ease his temper, but Gwaine used that fact to rub it in Arthur's face how terrible of a person Arthur was being towards the man who had just saved his life.
Finally, after the whole castle had to suffer through five days of Arthur's prattish and unpleasant behavior, Arthur summoned Merlin to his chambers, feeling calm enough again to actually hear whatever nonsensical reasons Merlin would give for turning to magic.
You see, what Arthur, the knights, and pretty much everyone in the castle had assumed was that Merlin had probably just picked up on some small useful enchantments and healing spells for Gaius's old study of that material. Arthur was angry at Merlin for turning to magic, but he could understand where Merlin was coming from.
Everyone knew that Merlin cared about his friends to the point of idiocy, so it made logical sense that Merlin, since he had the resources available to him, would resort to learning healing magic in case of an emergency. Arthur understood that aspect of Merlin more than anyone else.
Knowing that Merlin's magic was probably just the result of him being a loving and caring idiot did help ease the blow for Arthur, and truthfully Arthur didn't plan on punishing Merlin at all. To Arthur, hopefully confining Merlin to his chambers for a few days would discourage any future stupidity along these lines, and they could put this entire situation behind them.
So, when Arthur summoned a distressingly pale Merlin to his chambers and demanded an explanation, he expected to receive some stuttered response about learning a few spells from some of Gaius's spare books and to extract a promise out of Merlin that he'd never turn to magic again, and then everything would be fine.
However, when a wrought looking Merlin opened his mouth to explain, Arthur's heart plummeted to the floor. At the very first words of Merlin's explanation, "I was born with it," Arthur's chest went cold, and he took a few staggering steps backwards until his back hit the cold wall behind him, his eyes seeking out his blade.
Merlin was born with magic. That made Merlin a... a...
"Warlock," Arthur whispered, his eyes teary and terrified all at once.
Merlin stopped his explanation and tilted his head at Arthur, a small grin pulling on his lips. Arthur flinched back slightly at the sight of it, unable to form a coherent thought beyond the all-encompassing terror, dread, and sorrow that swirled around his mind.
"Ah, so you do know the correct word for it then! Yes, I am technically a warlock, but the distinction doesn't really matter that much anyways."
Merlin made a dismissive gesture with his hand, as if his words hadn't just completely shattered Arthur's heart. Arthur couldn't even listen to the rest of Merlin's explanation through the rush of his heartbeat and breathing in his ears.
The terror gripping his heart shouted at him to fight or flee, don't just stand there waiting for him to decide that he's feeling peckish for souls!
Arthur suddenly registered the pallor of Merlin's skin and the hollowness of his cheeks and came to the awful conclusion that he doesn't have much time, Merlin's already hungry and Merlin was stepping closer there was no time to escape nonono!
Arthur closed his eyes, unable to look at what must have been Merlin unfurling whatever demonic jaws he kept hidden and preparing to eat Arthur's soul...
But the sensation of his soul being devoured, whatever that was supposed to feel like, never came. Instead, he just felt a hand on his forehead, and after a few seconds another one cupped the side of his face.
Arthur hesitantly opened his eyes, almost not wanting to look upon Merlin's happy, friendly face that had always brought nothing but comfort. He didn't want those caring eyes to be that last thing he saw before he died at Merlin's hand!
Slowly, Arthur steeled himself and blinked the tears from his eyes, willing to at least face his death like a true warrior, looking at it head-on.
But, as his vision cleared from the tears, Merlin didn't look like his death, or like any sort of soul-eating monster. He just looked like Merlin, and by god wasn't that the worst part of it?
Merlin slowly smiled at him as his tears dried, coaxing him away from the wall and towards his armchair by the fireplace. Merlin gently guided him over to chair and helped him into his seat, holding Arthur's hand the entire time.
Arthur, once he was sitting, looked over at Merlin, still holding onto his hand and whispering comforting words to him, and Arthur felt like a small, scared child again, freshly awoken from a nightmare and jumping at every shadow.
It took what must have been hours for Arthur to catch his breath, stop his tears, and cease his body's terrified trembling, and Merlin sat next to him the entire time, drying Arthur's tears and comforting him.
Eventually, Arthur looked Merlin in the eyes again, and he could find nothing in them but love and care.
Whatever Merlin was, however hungry he must have been after going five days without being able to hunt for souls to devour, he apparently didn't see Arthur as a target.
Arthur took a deep breath, maintaining eye contact with Merlin. Alright, Merlin might be a soul-eating demon straight out of Camelot's worst nightmares, but he saw Arthur as a friend, not a meal. Arthur... Arthur could work with that.
He just... he needed more information before doing anything else. Merlin was still looking at him with love and concern, and with each passing moment, Arthur became more and more convinced that Merlin was still Merlin, warlock or not. And damn it all, that still counted for something. It had to count for something.
Now that his fear was marginally under control, questions swirled around Arthur's head. How did Merlin even eat souls before this? How often did he need to eat? Did he need to also eat food, or did he sustain himself and his powers on souls alone?
Before he could ask Merlin any of the pressing questions that were on his mind, Merlin had already helped Arthur out of his chair and towards his bed, readying a limp Arthur for bed whilst the king was drowning in his own thoughts.
Before Arthur even knew it, Merlin was pulling blankets over him and snuffing out the candles in his room. Merlin promised to visit Arthur again in the morning to tell him more, and Arthur barely registered his words over the storm of his own thoughts.
When morning came, Arthur couldn't even tell if he had gotten any sleep throughout the night or not, but he woke up exhausted either way. Only a few minutes after the sun had risen, Merlin burst into the room, still looking paler than usual and helping himself to one of the sausages that was supposed to be a part of Arthur's breakfast.
Just the sight of Merlin eating anything made Arthur feel slightly queasy, imaging some terrified soul being devoured at Merlin's hands. Arthur took a deep, steadying breath before getting out of bed, allowing Merlin to dress him as he normally did.
Merlin, much to Arthur's relief, was still acting like nothing had changed, like he was still the same harmless Merlin that Arthur knew him as before yesterday.
If that was how Merlin wanted to act, then Arthur was fine with it. Truthfully, even with all of the questions that Arthur had surrounding Merlin's nature, he found that he didn't really want answers to any of them. Answers would make this new reality, one where Merlin was never harmless at all and where there was a demon hiding under his best friend's skin, real for Arthur. If Arthur didn't have any answers, then he could just... pretend that everything was still fine, like nothing was wrong.
To keep Merlin by his side, he would gladly accept ignorance and pretend like nothing had changed.
However, there was still one issue that Arthur needed an answer to, to confirm that Merlin was still the man who Arthur always thought him to be.
As Merlin was cleaning up Arthur's breakfast plate, Arthur cleared his throat, getting Merlin's attention. Merlin quickly turned around to meet Arthur's gaze, but Arthur didn't feel scared meeting his eyes this time.
"Merlin, I'm willing to let everything that was revealed yesterday be forgiven, and everything can go back to normal."
Merlin gave Arthur a beaming smile at his words, and Arthur continued with a solemn heart.
"However, there is one thing I need to know. You've never..."
Somehow, the words eaten the soul of an innocent person were so vile that they refused to pass Arthur's lips, so he chooses an alternative.
"... hurt anyone who didn't deserve it, right? And you never will in the future? If we are to have any sort of trust between us, you must answer me honestly"
Arthur figured that, if Merlin was indeed forced to eat souls to survive, Merlin was probably feeding on bandits or enemy soldiers that Arthur and the knights would've killed anyways. It was the only explanation, as innocent people didn't mysteriously turn up dead regularly enough in Camelot to indicate that Merlin was feeding on them, and Arthur knew, deep down, that no matter what he was, Merlin would never do such a thing.
Merlin froze at Arthur's words, his smile falling. He lowered his gaze briefly, before meeting Arthur's eyes once more, determination shining brightly in his eyes.
"Arthur, I swear to you, anyone whom I've hurt with my powers were enemies of Camelot. Whatever I've done, I did it to protect you and your subjects."
Arthur nodded, satisfied and relieved by Merlin's answer. Nothing had to change then, Merlin was still his friend and manservant, albeit with powerful magic and an appetite for the souls of his enemies. Arthur could... tolerate that.
As the weeks went on, Arthur found himself thinking about this new side to Merlin less and less. Merlin was still acting exactly as himself, so there was no reason for Arthur to worry, let alone dwell on any thoughts of warlocks.
(And if he had a familiar nightmare from his childhood featuring a warlock, then that was Arthur's business and Arthur's business alone.)
Everything was fine, and months passed without any incidents. That was, however, until Arthur noticed Merlin becoming paler, his cheeks hollowing out again, and his eyes sporting heavy bags. As he took in the changes in Merlin over the past few days, he came to the sickening conclusion: Merlin was getting hungry again, and would need a soul to eat soon.
But Camelot was at peace, there were noticeably less bandits roaming the streets in the past year, and no assassins had come to the castle in the past months. Arthur could see that Merlin's usual... hunting grounds... had been drying up, and he needed to find a solution immediately. Arthur shivered at the thought of what devastation Merlin would unintentionally bring down upon all of them if his hunger ever got out of control.
After several hours of brainstorming on Arthur's part, he finally had an idea. It sickened him to have to consider, but he would do what he had to for the sake of Camelot.
Arthur called for Merlin to follow him as he made his way into the dungeons, where only one prisoner was currently being held. The prisoner was a minor noble who had killed several of his own servants and then used his status as a member of the nobility to cover up his involvement in the murders.
However, the nobleman was sloppy, and there was evidence left behind that proved his guilt without a doubt. He was set to be hanged for his crimes in two days time, as per Arthur's own judgement at the noble's trial, but... if he was going to be executed anyways... perhaps his death may be of use.
(What Arthur didn't know was that the real reason why Merlin looked so exhausted was because Merlin had spent every night for the past week searching for and compiling evidence that the nobleman was behind the murders, as the bastard would've gotten away with it otherwise.)
To Arthur, the criminal's death could be used to ensure that Camelot's only source of magical protection (and Arthur's best and dearest friend) didn't starve to death or go into a hunger-induced rampage, whichever came first.
Slowly, Arthur made his way to the nobleman's cell with Merlin trailing after him, where the criminal was bound to a chair on Arthur's orders. Arthur solemnly opened the door to the cell, gesturing for Merlin to follow him inside.
As soon as Arthur set foot in the cell, the nobleman started begging him for mercy, pleading with him to lower his sentence, not knowing what punishment Arthur truly had in mind for him. Ignoring the soon-to-be dead man, Arthur turned towards Merlin, who was startled by Arthur's intense stare.
"Arthur? What's going on?"
"Merlin," Arthur choked out, his voice rough with guilt, sorrow, and fear alike. Merlin rushed to Arthur's side at the sound, trying to urge him out of the cell, away from whatever issue was causing Arthur such pain.
Standing firm, Arthur cleared his throat.
"Merlin, I need you to... to do something for me."
Concern marred Merlin features as he reached out to Arthur.
"Of course, I would do anything for you Arthur."
Arthur swallowed roughly, trying to force his next words out of his throat. He'd ordered executions before, hell, he'd even ordered this man's execution before, but this was much, much harder than any of the other orders he'd given.
"Merlin, I need you to... take care of this man, as you normally do for enemies of Camelot."
Merlin reeled back with shock, looking somewhere between confused and hurt.
"Arthur, you can't possibly mean for me to..."
"I'm sorry, but yes Merlin, it needs to be done."
Merlin stared at Arthur for a few more moments, before slowly nodding his head and turning towards the bound criminal.
As Merlin stepped closer to the doomed noble, Arthur closed his eyes and turned his head away. Perhaps it was cowardice, but if there were ever a time for Arthur to show such cowardly behavior, it was here. He didn't want to see this part of Merlin.
He did, however, hear everything. There was a scream from the criminal, which was sickeningly cut off by a loud wet crunch that echoes off of the cell's walls, and then there was no sound in the cell except a very loud silence.
Arthur slowly opened his eyes to the sight of Merlin standing in front of a corpse and tried to believe that everything was still normal.
And that's a wrap on this au! Man, that got darker than I expected it to be.
Be sure to let me know if you'd like a continuation of this au!
And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings! :D
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TYSM 4 THE DAISUKE HEADCANON, IT SO CUTE I WAMT TO SQUISH HIS CHEEKS SO BAD OMGGGWGWHAHAH...anyways. HUGGING/CUDDLING/SLEEPING, KISSING, PET NAMES/NICKNAMES HEADCANONS...AS IS WJAT ARE HIS FAVE ONES???? OR OMG LIKE JEALOUSY HC, OR TEXTING, AS IN IS HE A FAST TEXTER OR SOMEONE WHO REPLIES LATER? HOW WOULD HE WRITE AND DOES HE SEMD RANDOM THINGS OR LIKE THOSE SAPPY GOODNIGHT/GOODMORNING TEXTS?...hope it's not annoyingđ§, also u dont have 2 write them all!! im just legit tweaking for that manđđ§đ
Pairings: Daisuke x F!reader
Warnings: slight mention of nsfw on the sleeping part, but in reality it's just what the other crew thinks :)) not proofread, probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!
HC: hugging, cuddling, kissing and sleeping with our favorite boy!!
(A/N): DW I LOVE WRITING FOR DAISUKE!! I mean who ISN'T tweaking about that manđ This is a bit boring but um yeahđ˘ I HAVE LIKE SO MANY REQUESTS FOR THIS MAN ALREADY IDK HOW I'M GONNA FINISH WRITING THEM ALL I'M HAVING A VERY BUSY WEEK BUT OH WELL!!
â°â⤠This is like a part 1 btw since I'm gonna write EVERYTHING you requested because I'm crazy like thatđ -> m.list
-- part 2
â
HUGGING
You can't tell me this man doesn't love hugs.
For short hugs, he's gonna quickly put a hand around your shoulder. Or maybe he'll just keep you in a quick embrace before letting go.
For longer hugs, he's going to keep one of his hands on the small of your back and the other on your upper back.
OR he's gonna just hold his arm loosely around your waist, it dependsđ
Daisuke loves to hold you, that's a fact. He just likes being with you in general, he feels lucky af
â
CUDDLING
Like I mentioned in another post, if you sleep in the same bed, you'll get cuddles every single night, I don't make the rules.
Daisuke doesn't mind if he's the big spoon or the little spoon, just CUDDLE with him
If he's the big spoon, he will keep you close, hold you to his chest, arms loosely wrapped around you, pulling you in.
If he's the little spoon, he's gonna curl up and let you spread out or whatever, you can even throw your leg over him he doesn't mind
He's probably gonna let you lay your head on his arm, but then he'll have that weird, tingly static-like feeling covering his whole arm
But he'd be too embarrassed to just pull his arm away, even if it hurts him, he just kinda lets you stay there since he doesn't wanna ruin your comfort.
He's usually the little spoon, he just likes being held and wrapped in your arms. He feels more comfortable that way.
But at the same time, he LOVES being the big spoon, because he feels like he's keeping you safe and secure from whatever difficulties or 'monsters' there are (jabortion)
I feel like his favourite cuddling position is Sweetheart's Cradle, he just prefers to hold you like that, it's easier for him and it's just 'so romantic' (his words not mine)
If you aren't aware of what that position is, google it because I have NO idea how to explain it mb gangđ˘
If he wants cuddles he's gonna nudge you and lay his head on your shoulder, and if you don't get the hint he's gonna trust fall on you
Lovely cuddles btw, he lives for them and he loves them so so much!!
â
KISSING
Okay so he's whipped
Kiss him on the lips while you're passing by him and he's gonna be at your feet
He loves loves LOVES when you just place a small kiss on his forehead and tell him he did something great
I'm telling you I just KNOW this man would kiss every single inch of your body
He likes to kiss the back of your hand softly while doing something for you, he feels like you're a princess
That's right, you don't feel like you're a princess, he feels like you're a princess
I feel like he enjoys short kisses more than long ones, he prefers them quick idkđ¤ˇââď¸
BUT he doesn't mind making out with you so um GO AHEADđ
Daisuke probably would risk it and make out with you somewhere other than the bedrooms, but he'd be scared that you two would get caught. It's just the THRILL he feels when he does it that gets him going, yk?
PULL ON HIS HAIR WHILE MAKING OUT
He's gonna ask for reassurance to make sure he's kissing you goof enough
â
SLEEPING
CUDDLES EVERY NIGHT
Omg SLEEP WITH HIMMMM
I feel like he loves having you play with his hair while whispering praises to him as he slowly drifts to sleep (who doesn'tđ˘)
Daisuke will also just talk about his day while you're also falling asleep, listening to him rant and babble on and on about what he accomplished
I kinda think that at some point someone caught you two sleeping together and probably had other ideas
SWANSEA: He probably rushed to wake up Daisuke, since Daisuke usually kinda just sleeps in. He opens the door to reveal that the young man isn't in fact alone, but accompanied by another person. Swansea notices it's you and all of the sudden something clicks in his head, realizing why Daisuke would talk so much about you. He doesn't mind it, as long as you two are happy. Of course, Swansea at first thought you two did something, but he quickly reassured you guys that he doesn't mind as long as you two don't wake him up at night.
"It's fine, just stay quiet and don't wake me up at night. Don't make this a habit."
ANYA: She wanted you to help her with something, not bothering to knock on your door as she opened and took a look inside. She scanned the room, only to notice you laying in bed asleep with Daisuke. She thought it was sweet and cracked a smile, but probably also thought you two did something else. She felt guilty for invading your privacy and quickly closed the door. She didn't expect you to do such things, but it wasn't a surprise it was Daisuke who was next to you. She's gonna DENY that she opened the door to your room.
"Did you need something earlier this morning?" "What? No, I don't know what you're talking about..."
Jimbo has no reason to enter either of your rooms, and neither does Curly.
Anyways, Daisuke loves sleeping with you because that just makes time for extra cuddles. He doesn't mind if anybody says anything about that, he simply does not care.
Your room or his room? Good question. Both, both is good.
It's usually his room, it just feels better that way. Plus, he has a Gameboy and you two stay up at night playing or watching him play!!
Stays cuddled up with you beneath the blankets to keep you safe!!
He snores. Loudly. You either have to wake him up so he can shut up or you just get used to it.
Since he sleeps with his mouth open he also sometimes drools, BUT, he never managed to drool on your sheets so I guess that's fineđŁ
He's fine omg
JUST SLEEP WITH HIM IN ANY WAY HE'S GONNA LOVE IT!!
â
yoyomiko â
miko
#x reader#reader#reader insert#f!reader#fem!reader#female reader#mouthwashing x reader#swansea mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#curly mouthwashing#anya mouthwashing#mouthwashing#daisuke x you#daisuke x female reader#daisuke x reader#daisuke x y/n#mouthwashing daisuke#daisuke#daisuke headcanons#mouthwashing headcanon#daisuke hcs#cuddling#hugging#kissing#sleeping#x you#x y/n#character x reader#â
yoyomiko#â
miko
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Without Expectation
You know how everyone is talking about how Astarion has a difficult relationship with hero characters bc he felt abandoned by them when he was suffering? What if, during his 200 years of imprisonment, heâd met one? Very much inspired by this post
cw:Â pre-game astarion, Cazador, prostitution and non-consensual sex alluded to but never shown, healing from trauma, Astarion being sexualized, Astarion sexualizing himself, objectification, blood drinking, heâs kind of sexually aggressive in this but it's just because heâs scared and he doesnât know anything else, reader is from a group of monster hunters that I made up who have been harassing Cazador, they are separate from any in-game monster hunters who are less Astarion friendly
Astarion x gn reader
Word count: 6k
He was charming. Pretty words, perfect hair, a dashing smile, and hollow eyes.Â
The second Cazador had said the word, he was all over you.Â
You couldnât turn down the offer. Not for the promise of pleasure, that was the last thing on your mind looking at him.Â
But if you got him alone you could talk to him, outside of the watchful eye of his master.Â
He had you pinned to the wall of your bedroom before you could even say a word. You had to shove him back and he stumbled, a frightened, hurt look crossing his face before the practiced charm slipped easily back.Â
âOh, you like to play rough, do you? Thatâs fine with me, I donât mind being pushed around a little.â
âStop,â you pleaded with him. âPlease, can I just speak for a second?â
âSay whatever youâd like, darling.â
âListen⌠Astarion, wasnât it?â
He smirked at you. âIt is, but you can call me whatever you'd like.â
âAstarion, you donât have to do this.â
âOf course I donât. I want to. Donât you want me?â He moved to get into your space again but you stepped back and he didnât follow.Â
You did your best to push past his flirtation. âHow often does he make you do things like this?â
âLike this? Not often. My lovers donât typically live to see the morning. Although I suppose it doesnât make much difference to me,â he said with a laugh, one that felt practiced and put on.Â
âOh.â You couldnât imagine it, being forced to not only be with so many people but to send them off to their deaths night after night.Â
Your eyes drifted down as your thoughts spiraled and he grabbed your chin, pulling your face up so your eyes met once more, directing all your attention back to him. âIs that whatâs bothering you, darling? I promise Cazador has given me very clear instructions on how well you should be treated.â
âNo, thatâs not the problem.â You dropped your head into your hands as you tried to figure out what to do. âGod, this is such a nightmare. Listen, I can sleep on the couch, you should take the bed,â you said, gesturing vaguely at the loveseat tucked in the corner of the room.
âCome now, thatâs not necessary my dear,â he practically purred at you.Â
You felt a little more nauseous with every pass he made at you. âYou really donât have to do that, I swear. Not in here at least. It would probably be prudent to pretend in front of Cazador but thatâs an issue for tomorrow.â
âEven if you donât want sex,â he said with a little roll of his eyes. âThe couch is not necessary. I promise I wonât bite.â
It was a bad idea. You knew that much. But the bed looked so soft and comfortable and the couch wasnât even long enough to fit all of you if you tried to lie down.Â
You sat on the bed tentatively and sunk into the mattress. It was by far the most comfortable bed youâd ever been in and you ran your hand along the silky sheets. âAlright, but weâll just be sleeping,â you said with a pointed look in his direction.Â
In a heartbeat, you were pushed back onto the mattress and he was looking over you, his hands on either side of your head as he grinned down at you. âAre you certain, my dear? I could make you feel so good.â
âIâm sure you could,â you said with a smile, cupping his face in your hands. His eyes lit up at the contact and it was clear that he thought heâd done it, that he'd won you over. âBut that wonât be necessary.â
You leaned up and pressed a kiss into his forehead before gently pushing him off of you back towards his side of the bed.Â
He seemed wounded and frightened by the gesture, a far cry from the practiced seduction youâve seen from him so far. âYou donât want me.â
âI assure you that is not the problem,â you said, careful to keep your voice gentle.Â
He did not seem convinced, a tragic vulnerability starting to seep through his facade.
As he stared at you, a worried look plastered across his face, you grabbed some of the many pillows from the top of the bed, placing a few between the two of you.Â
He scoffed at the sight. âI donât know what those are meant to stop. Not exactly impenetrable security against a rabid vampire.â
âTheyâre not for you. I have a tendency to get⌠grabby, in my sleep.â
He huffed, folding his arms as he finally conceded ground and laid down next to you. âGood. Maybe youâll be more interesting than when you are awake.â
You doubted heâd find you snuggling a pillow particularly interesting but you let him interpret your words however he pleased.Â
âPerhaps. Now if itâs all the same to you, Iâm going to sleep now.â
âItâs not all the same to me, thank you very much.â
âAlright,â you said with a yawn. âGoodnight.â
You woke up with your arms wrapped around a pillow from your little wall, holding it close to your chest as you eased your eyes open to see Astarion unabashedly staring at you.Â
He spoke as soon as he caught wind you were awake. âYou werenât kidding about being grabby, youâre practically smothering the poor thing.â
Your face warmed slightly at his words, embarrassment fluttering in your chest. âItâs an old habit. What about you, couldnât sleep?â
âElves donât sleep.â
You suddenly felt incredibly foolish. âOh. Right. So youâve just been sitting there all night then?â
âI tranced for a while. It was certainly a more boring night than I expected.â
You yawned as you sat up, setting the pillow youâd been holding behind you. âTerribly sorry to disappoint. Hopefully, there will be many more boring nights in your future.â
He pulled back, cocking his head to the side. âWhat?â
You realized you hadnât told him of your little scheme yet. âI was thinking. This whole meeting with Cazador was more of a formality than anything. Heâs killed too many of our people, we need to make this deal, at least until we can figure out how to sort him out for good. But he doesnât know that and maybe, if youâre amiable to it, I could throw in a final term to the deal. Where he has to give me⌠well, you. Not that you should be his to give, but I figure if I can save someone from this place and I didnât, what kind of a monster would I be?â
His eyes narrowed. âWhat do you want from me?â
You shrugged. âIâd say nothing if I thought youâd believe me. If you need to rationalize it, letâs just say itâs an ego boost. Now I get to feel like a good person and you get to leave this place. As long as I donât mess it up too badly.â
Mistrust was written across his face and it seemed like the first completely honest emotion youâd been able to pull from him.Â
âI donât believe you.â
âThatâs fine, we can fix that after I get you out of here.â You sighed. âWish me luck. Iâm an awful liar.â
He trailed after you as you left, seemingly incapable of letting you out of his sight.Â
Maybe he was. Maybe heâd been ordered to do so. You had no way to tell. It made your heart hurt, the sight of him here, the idea of Cazadorâs other spawn that you couldnât save. At least not yet.Â
He followed you like a loyal pup all the way to Cazador, who was lounging in a chair without a care in the world.Â
He chuckled at the sight of Astarion behind you. âAnd how was my spawn? To your satisfaction?â
You swallowed down that bile that rose in you as you said, âHe was a delight. I was wondering, in the name of our agreement, is there any way I could keep him? Itâs just that Iâve grown quite fond of him so very quickly.â
Cazador laughed, a putrid, callous thing. âIâm sure. He can be quite⌠convincing. And this would make you amenable to my terms?â
You nodded. âAll the monster hunters in Baldur's Gate will focus their attention in⌠other places. You and yours will be entirely safe from our wrath.â
âAnd if weâd like to push you in the direction of another creature?â
You gave him a tactful nod. âWe could be convinced.â
âGood.â He laughed once more. âTypical monster hunter. You pretend to hate us and yet you want to keep a vampire pet.â
Astarion leaned into your side and you felt a little queasy at the performance as you snaked your arm around him. âLike I said, he was very convincing.â
He sighed. âYou drive a hard bargain. As you wish, you shall have your terms. Just tell me if he doesnât behave. I can get him sorted right out for you.â
It took everything you had not to lunge at him thinking about everything heâd put this poor man through. âOf course, but Iâm sure Iâll be able to manage just fine on my own.â
You got out of there as fast as you could. Even if you hadnât had Astarion with you, you didnât want to spend any longer than absolutely necessary with the monster.Â
You pulled him through the streets back to the house you were staying in, racing against the sun. You barely had enough time to get him there and pull him inside, but you had a feeling heâd prefer this mad dash over staying another day with his master.
Regardless, the whole time your eyes were darting around, looking for places you could hide him should you need to.Â
You wondered what youâd even do if it had come to that. Just sit with him for the rest of the day, you supposed, unless he wanted to try a risky maneuver with a thick blanket.Â
You tried to pull him inside but it was like an invisible wall had stopped him in his tracks. You gave him a questioning look and he grumbled, âYou have to invite me.â
âOh! Iâm sorry, come in!â
As soon as the words left your mouth, he rushed in beside you and you set yourself to making sure all of the widows were fully shut, pulling the curtains tight.Â
He watched you dart about, tugging at the thick fabric. His gaze was judgemental but at least the emotion seemed genuine.Â
As soon as you were mostly certain he wouldnât burn to death, you turned to him. âWe wonât be leaving for a while so you can make yourself at home. If you need anything just let me know, okay?â
You didnât see him for the whole day. You were busy and he made himself scarce. You couldnât blame him. You imagined heâd long since made it a habit to avoid being seen by anyone. Anyone except his forced prey, you supposed. But still, he hid away from them, in his own way.Â
âAstarion, can you come look at this?â you called out as the sun finally dipped fully below the horizon, hoping he was close enough that he could hear you. And hoping he would come even if he did.Â
It took a few minutes but eventually he came sauntering down the stairs.Â
âYes, my dear?â
You grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the window, gesturing out at the carriage that was illuminated by torches alone, shrouded in the thick darkness of the night. âDo you think itâll be alright? The last thing I want is for you to get hurt.â
He stared out at the carriage youâd spent hours painstakingly attempting to make impenetrable to light. Youâd painted the windows black, hung blankets over top of them, shoved old linens in the cracks in the doors.Â
He cautiously headed outside, staring at the carriage with furrowed brows. âDid you do this?â
âYeah, I tested it during the day. It seemed pretty solid but obviously you couldnât check then. I could bring a torch around the outside if you wanted to check for yourself.â
He looked at you like you were mad. âWe could have just traveled at night.â
You shrugged. âItâs a two-day journey and I didnât want to depend on inns and shelter along the road to protect you during the day. This seemed safer.â
He opened the door, sitting inside and looking around at the painstakingly covered windows and cracks, and you couldnât tell if he seemed uncomfortable because he was worried about the sun or because of the sheer amount of effort youâd clearly put into it.Â
âDo you want anything for the ride?â you asked, pushing forward. âSome books or something? I could go get them for you.âÂ
âYour company is all I could ask for.â
âOkay, but for real though. Never mind, Iâll just get you some books.â You doubted youâd be able to pull an honest answer from him for a very long time, if at all.Â
After a frenzied book run, the two of you were ready to head off, locking yourselves inside the carriage until the sun set once more.Â
The bumps of the carriage jostled the two of you as you rode. The flickering orange light of two lanterns, one for each of you, barely illuminated the darkened space and you couldnât help but feel a little claustrophobic.Â
He was sitting, staring at you, book untouched on his lap.Â
Youâd brought as many options as you could think of, romance novels, epics, history, a horticultural book that had pulled a snort and an incredulous look from him when heâd seen it.Â
He didnât seem much in the mood for reading and under his unblinking gaze, neither were you. Instead, you stared at the painted-over window, wishing there was anything else you had to look at in the dim light.Â
âAdmiring your paint job?â he asked with a chuckle as you continued to refuse to meet his unblinking gaze.Â
âSomething like that.â You decided to take the broken silence as an opportunity. Anything was better than being silently stared at and you werenât sure youâd get a better chance to ask him. âCan I ask you something thatâs potentially insensitive?â
He smirked at you with that practiced allure. âAsk away.â
âWere you one of his favorites? Cazador's, I mean.â
He scoffed. âIn a way. He loved torturing me more than anyone else.â
You leaned forward. âSo it might be easier to convince him to part with the others?â
His eyes narrowed at you and you watched as he tried once again to figure out what your angle was. âYouâve got a real bleeding heart, donât you?â
âWeâve been unable to hurt him for so long, failed at it for years and years. Every day you were there was because we werenât good enough at what we did. I canât help it, I feel a little responsible for you. For all of you.â
âOh please,â he said with a roll of his eyes. âLike Iâm not one of the monsters you hunt.â
You cocked your head to the side. âWhy would you be? Who have you hurt?â
He laughed a cold, cruel laugh. âDarling, you have no idea how many people Iâve hurt.â
âYou havenât though. Cazador hurt people through you, sure. But you didnât hurt anyone, not really. Youâre a victim just as much as they were. At least we managed to save some of them.â
He squirmed in his seat. âI think they might disagree.â
You shrugged, something delicate in his eyes telling you not to push. âMaybe.â
The rest of the ride was completed in silence, not only fueled by your discomfort but now also Astarionâs irritation with you.Â
Your driver gave a knock on the door as the sun disappeared, just as youâd instructed him to, and you opened it to find a quaint little inn surrounded by woods in front of you.Â
He left to take care of the horses and you led Astarion inside, securing two rooms for the three of you. In a perfect world you wouldâve gotten Astarion his own room, but his vampirism wasnât exactly subtle and you couldnât help but worry that some overzealous patron of this establishment might take it upon themself to rid the inn of the supposed monster.Â
You led him up to the room youâd be sharing and as you entered, he stood in the doorway and took in the sight.Â
You were quick to give him a quiet, âCome in,â but he brushed you off.
âThatâs for houses, not individual rooms. I justâŚthereâs two beds.â
You nodded. âYup. For two people.â
He eyed you suspiciously, as if the two beds might be part of some devious scheme. After a few moments, he seemed to decide it was just a normal room and took the bed nearest the door.Â
He seemed paler than heâd been the night before and a horrible thought struck you. âOh my god, you need to eat! I havenât been feeding you.â
He chuckled. âGood luck with that, there arenât many disposable animals out here. At least, not ones you could catch. Unless you want to let me at the horses, but that would leave us in quite the predicament.â
âI mean, you could drink from me. Not everything, obviously, but I could spare some.â
You held out your hand to him, presenting your wrist and looking at him expectantly.
âIâm not allowed to drink human blood,â he spat back at you, the bile of hundreds of years of resentment lacing his words. âCazador doesnât allow it.â
âYouâre not his anymore. He gave control over to me and I say you can do whatever youâd like and that you donât take orders from anyone anymore. The offer stands.â You went to withdraw your hand until his hunger bested his hesitation but he grabbed your wrist, stopping you from pulling away.Â
âWell,â he said with a sly smile. âAs long as youâre offering, I would be a fool to turn you down.â
It was so strange how quickly it happened, how easily he could slip right back into that faux confidence.Â
He leaned towards you and you backed away at the hungry look in his eyes, one you were more than familiar with.Â
âIf you really want to Iâm sure thereâs ways we could make this a more rewarding experience for you,â he said and in a heartbeat he maneuvered himself over you, his hands interlaced with yours and holding you to the mattress.Â
You pulled yourself back in an instant, leaning against the headboard as you presented your wrist to him once more.Â
You didnât fault him for it. After years of surviving with it, of course he would keep trying to draw you in with his sexuality. The instinct couldnât be snuffed out overnight.
Youâd bat away his attempts as many times you needed to, try and make him understand. You werenât sure if it would ever work, not fully, but youâd keep trying.Â
âItâs easier this way,â you said in explanation, giving him something to latch onto that didnât feel like rejection.Â
He rolled his eyes. âEasier, Iâm sure. Typical, I got a master whoâs allergic to fun.â
âIâm not your master. You can do as you please, could leave now if you wanted.â
âAnd go where?â he snapped. âYou can pretend if you must but I know what I am. I know where I stand. I am a lot of things, but I am no fool.â
âI know.â
He studied you for a moment, eyes daring across your face before he pulled your wrist towards him, digging his teeth into your flesh.Â
The sharp pain lasted for a heartbeat before it faded away to a dull ache. He lapped at the open wound, his put-on demeanor disappearing as he got lost in it.Â
He cradled your hand like it was a lifeline. In a way, you supposed it was.Â
You could feel yourself getting lightheaded as he fed but you refused to stop him. You would not command it of him, would rather die than force him into it. You let out a quiet whine, your form slumping back into the bed.Â
He drew away immediately and your blood began pouring onto the white sheets of the bed.Â
A moment of panic reflected in his red eyes before he grabbed the corner of the sheets, wrapping them around your wound.Â
âThere,â he said, his voice quieter than his normal bravado. âShould keep you from bleeding out.â
Your eyes were locked on his collarbone, a dark bruise becoming visible as your blood fled through his previously starved body. The longer you looked, the more of them you could see, peeking out from under his clothes.Â
âOh, you poor thing,â you said in hushed tones, hands moving to reach for him before stopping in their tracks, unsure if your touch would be wanted.Â
He was otherwise preoccupied, his eyes alight with something entirely new. He looked stronger, livelier. There was a warmth to his cheeks youâd never seen before.Â
You resisted the urge to touch him, to see if heâd become warmer as your blood had begun to run through him, bringing a new light to his eyes.Â
âYou should get some rest,â he said, looking down at you lying exhausted and drained on the bed. âYou certainly need it.â
You barely had time to laugh at his comment before youâd drifted off.Â
The ride back was as quiet as it had been the day before, if a little less uncomfortable. Astarion still stared for much of it but he at least pretended to read his book. The healthy flush to his cheeks seemed to come with a bit of newfound comfort and ease around you that made you puff up with pride, even if you still felt a little woozy from the night before.Â
âHere we are!â you said as a knock sounded on the door, opening it and leading him inside your home. It was an old manor of your family's, not particularly big, right on the edge of nowhere, and perhaps falling apart just a little but more than suitable for your purposes. âItâs a little bit of a mess but I kind of like it that way. Come on, Iâll show you your room.â
You decided to put him in a room that was just a few doors down from your own, pointing out just where he could go to find you if he needed anything.Â
You laid down to sleep once you got him situated, more exhausted than you typically were at this time of night. Despite how tired you were, presumably from the blood loss, you had to fight the urge to go and check on Astarion just one more time.Â
You hadnât known him for long but youâd already developed an intensely protective instinct towards the man.Â
You did your best to put him out of your mind when a knock sounded at the door.Â
âCome in,â you called out. You made no attempt to suppress your smile when he peeked in the doorway.Â
âI think Iâve grown accustomed to your company,â he said sheepishly, and for once it didnât seem like he was trying to seduce you. He seemed worn down, looking just as tired as you felt, a defeated air present on his face.Â
You were too tired for subtlety, opening your arm to him and muttering a sleepy, âJust come here.â
He seemed grateful to not have to explain himself. To not have to ask.Â
He sat on the bed, looking down at you where you lay.Â
âNo pillow this time?â he asked in that snide voice he used so often.Â
âI can if you want. Just thought you might appreciate the closeness.â
He rolled his eyes dramatically. âFine, Iâll be your little pillow to hug. Fair warning though, I run cold.â
You tried and failed to suppress a yawn as he got into bed beside you and you wrapped your arms softly around him. âI donât mind. Gânight.â
âGoodnight, my dear.â
Just like that, it became a bit of unspoken habit between the two of you. You felt it might honestly kill him to comment on it, to ask you for affection. But with no words, no pleasantries, there he was every night, beside you.Â
One night, about a week into his residence in your home, he seemed more restless than normal, fiddling endlessly with your hand, incapable of sitting still. You turned to him with a pointed look. âCome on, out with it, itâs not good to go to bed with things left unsaid.â
He scoffed. âWhy not?â
You shrugged. âI donât know, what if I die in my sleep or something.â
âIf you die in your sleep, I think I might have bigger problems than things I didnât say to you. Namely, some monster hunters who might take issue with the vampire you died next to.â
You shook your head. âNo, I already told them about you, they wouldnât hurt you.â
That seemed to take him by surprise, pulling back a bit at your words. âYou did?â
âOf course I did. Now come on, out with it, whatâs going on it that head of yours?â
He sighed dramatically and flopped back on his pillow. âItâs really nothing.â
âNot if it's bothering you. I want to help.â
âDid you mean it?â he blurted out, like the words had to be forced out of him quickly or they wouldnât come out at all. âWhen you said you wanted to save the rest of them too?â
âOf course I did. And I will. At least if I have anything to say about it,â you said quietly, your stomach turning at the thought of the other spawn youâd left behind.
He turned from you as if youâd slapped him. âRight. Iâm going to sleep in my own room. I shouldâve been in there anyway, this was silly. Goodnight, darling.â
You chased after him in a heartbeat, catching up at him before heâd even managed to open his door. âWait, what did I do? Astarion?â
He was an unstoppable force, storming into his own room.Â
âI donât understand what I did,â you pleaded with him, desperate to fix it. You raked through your conversation, trying to dissect every word spoken, every facial expression. You found nothing. Shouldnât he be happy you wanted to help them? It didnât make sense to you.Â
He sat on his bed, one heâd never slept in, arms crossed and brows furrowed. When he spoke, there was a faux casualty to it, like he was trying to pretend none of it mattered to him. âIâm just making room for the next stray you let into your bed.â
You sat next to him, careful to keep your distance as you moved your head down to try and catch his eye. âYou know Iâm not replacing you, right?â
He huffed in response, turning away from you again.Â
You made sure to keep your tone gentle and soft. âYou know I wouldnât let just any vampire spawn sleep next to me, right? Itâs because I care about you, itâs not just because youâre there. No one is replacing you and I promise there is enough of me to help people while also still being there for you. I will save as many of them as I can until I can rid this world of Cazador but youâre not just Cazadorâs victim, youâre my friend.â
He turned to you suddenly. âStop saying that. Stop saying youâre going to hunt down Cazador. If he catches wind of any of this youâre dead. At least, if youâre lucky youâll be dead. And then where will I be?â
âHey, Iâve been doing this a long time. I know what Iâm doing, we all know what weâre doing. Heâs not going to get me.â
âThatâs why you made that deal, is it? Did all the other hunters he slaughtered know what they were doing too? You arenât a threat to him, you are a nuisance. You need to stop,â he snarled.Â
You couldnât stop. You both knew that, could see it as clear as day.Â
Instead, you just said a quiet, âCome on, come to bed,â and walked out of the room.Â
He trailed behind you, the unendable argument weighing heavy on the both of you, no more words spoken as he slipped under the sheets. You gave his hand a squeeze, trying your best to reassure him despite knowing it would never work. Not as long as he was still out there.Â
And then, as he leaned into your space, head brushing against your arm, something heâd been getting slowly more comfortable doing, something occurred to you that should have many days ago, back when heâd first arrived here. It was strange that he was here, now. Not just because of his uncomfortability with any sort of nonsexual closeness, but because of when it was.Â
Not only did elves not sleep the same way nor as long as humans did, but vampires slept during the day typically, to enjoy the night as best they could.Â
âIâm going to start sleeping during the day,â you said decisively. âThat way we can keep doing this,â you said as you gestured around vaguely, âand you can go out, can do things with your waking hours. Iâm sorry it didnât occur to me sooner.â
His eyes widened. âYouâd really let me leave?â
His surprise felt like a shard of ice through your chest. âOf course I would. You can do whatever you want. Iâll even do my best to help if youâll ask me for it.â Another horrible thought struck you. âWait, you didnât think you could leave and youâve been with me most nights. What have you been eating?â
âWhatever I could find. I make for wonderful pest control.â
Your heart sank. You shouldâve considered this sooner, never put him through any of this.Â
âHere, drink from me,â you said, sticking out your hand. âI can get some bigger animals for you, keep them here so you donât have to hunt for them if youâd prefer, but for now I will have to do.â
He hesitated, although his gaze was less suspicious than the last time youâd done this. Instead, he looked nervous. âYouâve⌠youâve already done so much for me. I shouldnât.â
âAstarion, youâre starving,â you said quietly, trying to reason with him.Â
âIâd rather not push it. Eventually, even your charity will run out.â
You shook your head. âIt will not. Itâs fine if you donât believe me, I know itâll take time, but I will keep being here for you until it sinks in. Promise.â
He laughed quietly, seeming more for himself than for you, something that had been happening more and more lately. âYou underestimate my distrust, I think I could outlast you.â
You smiled back. âChallenge accepted. But until then, you need to eat.â
You held out your wrist for him, the marks from the last time just beginning to fade. He took it, gingerly, bringing it slowly to his mouth and watching your face for any apprehension.Â
You showed none, instead giving him a soft smile. âGo on. I donât bite.â
That got a real laugh out of him. âThatâs not funny.â
He pressed a soft kiss into your skin before sinking his fangs in, that sharp pain coming with a flutter of warmth inside your chest.Â
He was slower this time, more intentional as he drank. You couldnât help but wonder if it was because he wasnât as hungry or if it was because it felt less like his meal might be ripped away from him unceremoniously.Â
He didnât get as lost in it this time, eyes flicking up to meet yours, checking in on you.Â
You didnât even get the chance to try and tell him you were feeling woozy before he drew back, pulling a handkerchief you hadnât even noticed off the side table to wrap around your wrist.Â
âWouldnât want to get our sheets all bloody,â he said as he knotted it tight around your wound.Â
Your hands moved slowly as soon as he released them, reaching up towards his face and giving him plenty of time to back away.Â
For a moment, when he first saw you reaching for him, he pulled back and you were ready to retreat and shower him in endless apologies when, as suddenly as heâd moved away, he leaned into your touch.Â
Gentle hands cradled his face, ones heâd flinched away from but a moment before. He leaned into them openly now, unabashedly, making a home between your palms.Â
He was warmer like this, with your blood rushing through him.Â
You pulled him closer as his head tucked right under yours, your fingers carding gently through his hair.Â
âIâm not going anywhere,â you whispered, barely loud enough to reach his ears, and you had no idea if he believed you.Â
You doubted it, doubted that youâd been able to break through all those years of his living hell so quickly. His walls had been carefully constructed for a reason, and you understood why he was so hesitant to break them down. You couldnât blame him, would never blame him.Â
It didnât really matter. Youâd keep trying either way.
#astarion#astarion x reader#vampire x reader#baldurs gate astarion#bg3 astarion#baldurs gate 3#bg3#astarion ancunin#astarion needs a hug
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My Love
Aitana Bonmati x Reader
Summary: your Aitanas girlfriend
Warnings: Pure Fluff, maybe bad ending
My Masterlist
please read this text before going to the story
please don't be so strict with me but rather write to me what I can do better or what you wished were different. also tell me if you find the story too long or too short.. Also write to me if you liked it. My requests are always open (and English is not my first language so don't be mad at me) and if you have any ideas for the future about who I should write please tell me⌠the topics I will choose by myself unless you have a request for one or two people I will Read everything.. in the next survey I will take a few ideas from the old survey and new onesâŚ. now read and I hope you like it <33
(its a very short one)
aitana is your girlfriend, she is the most tender and sweetest person you have ever met
You know that she would drop everything if you called her and said you weren't feeling well
It was match day. You've been playing for Betis Sevilla since your childhood. It was the game against FC Barcelona. You already knew that you wouldn't have a chance
You're going to play against your girlfriend. You kept your relationship secret long enough until you went on vacation together during the summer break and decided to post a picture together so that everyone knew you were together. Since then, your team has been annoying you and keeps telling you that you are togheter with the best player
Also today they teased you about playing against Aitana, you haven't seen her in a long time, it was already overdue. You both have been very busy lately and have neglected your relationship a little, so you didn't really like the jokes your teammates made
âCan you please stopâ you said slightly annoyed and pulled your jersey over your head The jokes will probably never stop
"Aww we're a little baby again today" Paula joked and pinched your cheek lightly. You clicked in annoyance and let Noelia braid your hair. It's a little ritual between you to braid each other's hair
You were all excited to play against Barça again. You finished lacing up your shoes and went into the tunnel. You acted as captains and stood right next to Alexia, the captain of Barça. You cracked your neck one last time before the referee announced it was time to line up
You stood there, gave a little applause and shook hands with your opponents. Aitana took your hand firmly in hers and gave you a little wink, which you accepted with a smile
it was kick-off. The game went well, even though you lost 5-1, you were still proud to be part of this team
//
1-0 Barcelona: Claudia Pina 26â
2-0 Barcelona: Mariona Caldentey 44â
2-1 Betis Sevilla: y/n 45â
3-1 Barcelona: Caroline Graham-hansen 75â
4-1 Barcelona: Salma Paralluelo 88â
5-1 Barcelona: Salma Paralluelo 90+1â
//
Even though you lost so much, you were still proud that the times were so far apart
After the game you all gave each other a handshake
Aitana ran up to you and hugged you tightly. "Hey you were great" she beamed at you with a huge smile
âThank you aita you were pretty good tooâ you joked, smelling the sweet smell of her hair once again
"Would you like to come with me? I mean you're in Barcelona and I think your team will be able to do without you for the night or not?" she told you and put her arm around your shoulders to start the way to the cabins
you took a deep breath "okay but only if you cook for me" you raised your hand aitana laughed "sĂ I'll cook whatever you want" she said laughing and let go of you "well I'll wait for you outside my car" She said as she walked past and you nodded at her
You took a shower and told the coaching team that you would stay with Aitana and fly back alone tomorrow
//
About an hour later you were finished. You said goodbye to your team and headed towards the exit. The evening warmth of Barcelona hit your face. You looked for Aitana's car until she drove close to you
"Hola chica necesitas un conductor?"
She asks laughing and you ironically bump into her car. You walked in. It's been a long time since you looked in her car. After a moment she immediately pounced on you and bit lightly into your neck and cheek. You squealed and tried pushing her away laughing "aita aita stop" you say breathless with laughter
"I missed you so much" she tells you and places kisses on your cheek. You took her hands in yours and gave her a long kiss on the mouth
When you let go she looks at you with her sweet gaze. She licks her lips and blushes with embarrassment. You have kissed so many times but after such a long time it is always unique to kiss her again
"I missed you too" you say and smile slightly, everything is the same as before, her light ponytail, the smell of peppermint toothpaste when you kiss her and the gentle rose scent of her shower gel that is distributed in the air
"Do you want to go I'm pretty hungry" she said and rubbed her stomach lightly. She sometimes behaved like a little baby but that's what you loved about her, her funny faces that she sometimes gave you or she tickled you awake in the morning or crawled under your shirt you loved everything about her
"Yes we can go" you say, laughing slightly and giving her one last little kiss. She drove through the gate. On the car ride, you sang your favorite songs. Her hand didn't leave yours for a second
When you arrived at Aitana's house she opened your door and took your hand to escort you out. She carried your suitcase and looked for her key to the door
âYou can take something from me to wear you know where everything isâ she says and gave you a kiss before disappearing into the kitchen
You went into her bedroom and the smell of freshly washed laundry from her laundry basket immediately hit your nose. You did a little tidying up and taught the basket and carefully placed everything in your closet and looked for something to wear yourself You decided on a loose shirt and shorts. You changed your clothes and saw your selfie together in a frame on her dessert. A smile immediately came to your face you loved this woman.
You went into the kitchen and the smell of fresh ham hit your nose. You watched Aitana for a moment until you walked up to her and hugged her tenderly from behind. "Ay baby you're wearing my favorite shirt" she said, laughing slightly and frying a few tortillas in the pan you place your head on her shoulder and place small kisses on her neck
"can you promise me no matter how long we don't see each other or neglect each other that you'll never leave me" You say lovingly and notice how Aitana's stomach falls and rises
"I'll stay with you until you can't stand me anymore and even then I won't let you go you won't get rid of me that easily" she says with a slight smile
you beam across both cheeks "I love you Aita" you whisper in her ear
"I love you too cariĂąo"
#woso fanfics#woso#woso community#fitblr#woso appreciation#woso blurbs#woso imagine#woso one shot#woso soccer#woso smut#aitana bonmati#aitana bonmati x reader
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forget me not | ii
Pairing: Jeong Yunho x witch!Reader AU: non-idol | supernatural Summary: Yunho should be happy--he's got everything going for him and he's set to marry the love of his life! So why is he standing outside of your shop on the night of his engagement party? Word Count: 7.7K Warnings: swearing, allusions to self disappearing, mentions of ghosts and the unliving
Fic Masterlist
a/n: ngl, I teared up writing this chapter. poll results were also incorporated into the plot đ¤
The sun was setting behind the outfield, casting a golden hue over the empty baseball diamond. You sat on the bleachers with your journal in hand, taking in the post-practice calm of the field, as you waited for Yunho.Â
Fall had arrived, bringing with it crisp weather, cozy sweaters, and the start of your final year of high school. In the soft light, you focused intently on your sketchbook, your pencil moving deftly across the pages. You were engrossed in capturing the essence of a black cat in various posesâthe catâs form, rendered in fluid lines and delicate shading, seemed to come to life on the page.
âYou know black cats are bad luck,â Yunho chuckled, his voice warm and teasing as he leaned closer to peer at your sketches. His tone carried a light-heartedness that matched the playful glint in his eyes.
You glanced up, catching his gaze with a smile. âTheyâre just little guys,â you pouted, brow furrowing in mock frustration.Â
âHow was your meeting with the counselor?â he asked, gaze drifting over the field he loved so much. The question carried a note of genuine curiosity, and his eyes, shaded by the brim of his cap, held a look of earnest concern.Â
You shrugged. âIt was okay,â the words drifted out as you turned back to the sketches. âJust a lot to think about. What did you tell her?â
Yunho hummed thoughtfully. âTold her Iâm going to hit up the Tigers and build a winning team.â His voice was filled with a quiet determination, the kind that comes from years of dreaming and planning.
âBut of course,â you snorted. There was something comforting about Yunhoâs single-minded devotion to the sport, a constant in a world that felt increasingly uncertain as graduation loomed closer.
âItâs a long shot, but Iâm willing to work for it.â His eyes lit up with a spark of determination, the same spark that had driven him to countless early morning practices and late-night games. Youâd seen firsthand how much effort Yunho put into everything he did, how deeply he cared about his teammates and the sport itself. There was no doubt in your mind that he could make his dream a reality.
Yunhoâs gaze softened as he turned to you, his expression sincere.Â
âDid you explore any career options with her?â
You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and uncertainty swirl in your chest. âNot really. Iâve got some ideas, but nothingâs set in stone.â
âWhat about art? Or photography? Youâre a great photographer and youâre always sketching in your journal.âÂ
A small smile played on your lips as you considered his words. âYeah, but Iâd probably hate it if I made a career out of it,â you sighed, closing the leather-bound book with a soft thud. There was a truth in that statement you hadnât fully acknowledged until now. The idea of turning your art into a career felt like it would strip away the joy and freedom that came with creating something purely for yourself.
But now, as you stood on the brink of a new chapter in your life, you realized how much you had relied on Yunho. His presence had been a constant, a safety net that you had come to depend on. The thought of making decisions without his input was daunting, and you felt a pang of anxiety at the prospect.
Yunhoâs brow furrowed slightly, and he seemed to weigh your words carefully before responding. âI get that. But whatever you choose, just make sure itâs something that makes you happy. Thatâs what really matters.â
The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the last rays of sunlight disappear behind the horizon. As the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, Yunho stood up, offering you a hand.Â
âReady?â he asked, his voice breaking the peaceful silence, but not disturbing the tranquility of the moment.Â
You looked up at him, taking in the sight of his relaxed posture, the way his cap sat slightly askew on his head, and the easy smile that always seemed to come so naturally to him. There was something reassuring about Yunho, a steadiness that made even the quietest of moments feel meaningful.
âYeah,â you replied softly, slipping your hand into his. His grip was warm and steady, and as he helped you to your feet, you couldnât help but feel a sense of ease wash over you.Â
âWhere are we going for dinner?â he asked, picking up his bag.Â
âHow about that little place by the river? The one with the outdoor seating?â you suggested, glancing up at him.
Yunhoâs face brightened at your suggestion, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. âPerfect. Iâve been craving their chicken skewers.â
âWhat can I say? I know what you like,â you grinned, bumping your shoulder into his.Â
You drifted away from Yunho, your steps slow and aimless, as if the ground beneath you had shifted in a way that left you unmoored. The path ahead was shrouded in darkness, the streetlights casting long, eerie shadows that seemed to stretch out toward you, mocking your loneliness.Â
The cold breeze stung your cheeks, mingling with the tears that you couldnât hold back any longer. You wiped at them hastily, but more kept coming, each one a reminder of how much tonight had hurt. The heartbreak was overwhelming. It wasnât just the loss of your best friend; it was the loss of a part of yourself.Â
Sixteen years. Youâd grown up together, sharing secrets, dreams, and fears. Yunho was there for you when you felt like the world was too much to handle, offering a shoulder to cry on and words of encouragement that always seemed to make things better.Â
You thought back to one of those moments, a memory that stood out vividly despite the passage of time. You were eleven, and the world felt like it was crumbling around you. Your dog had passed away, and the weight of it was too much for your young heart to bear.Â
You called Yunho right away, your voice breaking as you tried to hold back the tears. You didnât need to explain; he just knew. Within minutes, he was at your house, breathless from running across the street. He wrapped a lanky arm around your shoulder the entire time you cried, hoping he could shield you from the pain that was tearing you apart.
Or the time you got a âCâ on your first big exam in university. You were devastated, convinced that you werenât good enough, that you would never succeed. The weight of disappointment was crushing, and you couldnât shake the feeling that you had let everyone down, including yourself.
He dragged you out of your dorm that day, refusing to let you wallow in self-pity. Despite your protests, he insisted you needed a change of scenery. You spent the afternoon at the art museum, wandering through the quiet halls filled with the vibrant colors and intricate details of the paintings and sculptures. The silence of the museum was a balm to your frazzled nerves, allowing you to lose yourself in the art, if only for a little while.
But Yunho, being Yunho, couldnât let you leave without doing something more to lift your spirits. As you were about to head out, he steered you toward the gift shop, his eyes bright with an idea he hadnât yet shared. You half-heartedly browsed the shelves, not really in the mood to buy anything, but Yunho seemed determined.
âWait here,â he said, flashing you a quick smile before disappearing behind a display of postcards. Moments later, he returned, his hands hidden behind his back, a mischievous grin on his face.
âClose your eyes,â he instructed, and despite your skepticism, you complied, hearing the faint rustle of a small bag.
âOkay, open them,â Yunhoâs voice was filled with barely contained excitement. When you did, you found him holding out a small, carefully wrapped package, tied with a simple ribbon. âThis is for you.â
You unwrapped the gift, your heart swelling as you revealed a figurine of a golden retriever. The dogâs playful expression, with eyes full of joy, instantly brought a smile to your face. It was so perfectly Yunhoâloyal, dependable, always bringing a bit of sunshine into your life, even when things seemed bleak.
As you felt a lump in your throat, tears began to well up in your eyes. You couldnât hold them back and immediately started sobbing, drawing attention from onlookers. It was such a small thing, a simple gesture, but it meant everything to you in that moment. The figurine was more than just a gift; it was a symbol of Yunhoâs unwavering friendship and his ability to understand you in ways no one else could. Through your tears, you managed to smile at him, grateful for his presence and the comfort he brought into your life.
How could someone who once knew you so intimately now feel so distant, so unreachable? It was as if you were looking into the eyes of a stranger, and the realization was like a knife to the heart. You were left to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart, trying to make sense of a world where your best friend had become your greatest adversary.
Stopping at the edge of the riverâs walkway, you watched the water move steadily, its surface deceptively calm. You longed for that same tranquility, that same sense of direction. Instead, you felt lost, adrift in a sea of emotions you couldnât navigate. The cold night air wrapped around you like a shroud, beckoning you into its deceptively calm waters.
âSad⌠SadâŚâ
It was hypnotic. Shadows danced along the waterâs edge, and you could almost hear the whispers of spirits wandering through the night. Their presence was palpable, a chilling reminder of the unseen forces at play. The river pulsed with an otherworldly energy, drawing you closer, tempting you to step into its depths and join the spectral procession.
The spirits seemed to take notice of you, drawn to the sorrow that weighed heavily on your heart. They circled closer, their ethereal forms flickering in the moonlight. You felt their cold, ghastly fingers brush against your skin, feeding off your anguish, growing stronger with each passing moment. They were inviting you to surrender to the darkness, to become one with the night.
âHungry⌠hungry⌠â they murmured, their words merging into a single, chilling plea. It was as if they were lured by the raw, unfiltered emotion, driven by an insatiable hunger that could only be sated by consuming your sorrow.Â
The weight of grief, loss, and betrayal from someone you loved suffocated you, pressing down on your chest like a vice. You looked around, desperate for some sign of relief, but the ghosts were relentless. Their forms circled you, their murmurs growing louder, more insistent. The despair you felt seemed to feed their hunger, making their presence even more intense, more invasive.
âGive inâŚâ one spirit whispered directly into your ear, its cold breath sending another shiver down your spine. âLet us take it⌠let us take the painâŚâ
Desperation clawed at you, and you tried to push them away, but your hands passed through their ghastly bodies. The more you struggled, the more they seemed to tighten their grip, as if they were trying to pull you into their world, to make you one of them. The night air seemed to close in around you, the darkness growing heavier with each breath you took.
âScatter,â a voice commanded, deep and resonant, cutting through the night like a blade. The spirits, who had been swirling around you with growing hunger, recoiled in sudden fear. Their flickering forms dimmed and began to dissolve into the shadows, retreating from the voiceâs commanding presence.
You gasped, as if surfacing from the depths of the sea for the first time, and blinked, the voice shattering the spell that had held you captive. The oppressive chill and haunting whispers began to recede, replaced by a strange, unsettling calm. You looked around, trying to grasp what had just happened, your heart still pounding from the encounter.
The figureâs presence was both terrifying and oddly comforting, a paradox that left you feeling simultaneously alarmed and relieved. His silhouette was sharp and defined against the dim moonlight, and though his face was partially concealed beneath a deep, shadowy hood, there was no mistaking the sheer authority he commanded.
âBrave of you to be roaming near my realm, mortal.â
You blinked, disoriented by the strangeness of the encounter. It felt like you had stumbled into a scene from a dream, and your mind scrambled to make sense of it. With a flicker of rational thought cutting through the haze of confusion, you spun on your heel and bolted, your footsteps pounding against the pavement in a frantic rhythm.Â
âIâve been eaten by ghosts, Iâm dead. Iâm so fucking dead,â you panicked as your feet pounded against the pavement in a full-on sprint.Â
âYouâre not dead,â the figureâs voice was smooth and unnervingly calm, laced with a hint of amusement. He materialized before you in a swirl of black mist, his sudden appearance silent and startling. Your heart skipped a beat as you skidded to a halt, eyes wide with panic. He stood there, smirking, clearly relishing your bewilderment.
Without a second thought, you turned and ran again, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The cityscape blurred around you as you darted through the park and vaulted over obstacles, your mind a whirlwind of fear and adrenaline. You could hear the figureâs footsteps behind you, a steady, unhurried pace that only heightened your terror.
You glanced over your shoulder, your heart sinking as you saw him gaining on you effortlessly. You rounded a corner sharply, nearly losing your balance as you bumped into him. Panic surged through you, a cold sweat breaking out as your mind scrambled for an escape route. Fuck fuck fuck. You swallowed hard, trying to mask your fear.Â
âWhat do you want from me?â The words slipped out, more out of desperation than defiance. The surreal nature of the situation was twisting your emotions into a knot, leaving you uncertain whether to be angry, terrified, or something in between.
He stepped closer, his presence almost suffocating in its intensity. âI was curious about what could have triggered a feeding frenzy among the ghosts.âÂ
You felt a chill run down your spine. âSo I have been eaten alive by the ghosts,â you muttered.
He paused, his gaze steady and deliberate as he chose his words carefully. âNo. When the veil between the worlds is thin and the energies of the living and the dead are in flux, spirits are drawn to heightened emotions,â he explained, his voice holding a note of measured calm. âThatâs why you were being swarmed earlier. And for the last time, youâre not dead.â
âNow that I think of it, being eaten by ghosts sounds better than the bullshit and humiliation I just went through,â you spat with an edge of bitterness.
The fight with Yunho was still fresh, the sting of it cutting deep, and the bitterness in your words was impossible to hide. Every memory of your friendship now felt like a cruel reminder of your naivety, and the humiliation of being deceived cut deeper than any physical wound.
The figure studied you intently, his gaze piercing through the darkness, as if he could see into the very depths of your soul. âYou have a strong desire to disappear,â he said, his voice low and measured.
From the corner of his eye, a small black cat appeared and found purchase underneath a streetlamp, its onyx eyes staring intently at the stranger, urging him to wrap up whatever business he was conducting with you.Â
âIs it that obvious?â you asked, a hint of vulnerability creeping into your voice. You felt exposed under his scrutiny, as if he had laid bare your deepest fears and desires.Â
He stepped closer, his presence nearly overwhelming. âI can sense it within you,â he said, his voice a blend of solemnity and intrigue. âThe shadows that cling to your heart and a yearning to disappear from the pain and humiliation that haunt you. ButâŚâ
âBut?â you prompted, as you tried to grasp the meaning of his words.
The cat flicked its tail with an air of impatience, its gaze fixed on you with an intensity that was almost unnerving. The small creature seemed to radiate an aura of quiet authority, as if it, too, was a part of this mysterious world that was slowly unraveling before you.Â
âBut it seems,â he began, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips, âyouâve captured the attention of more than just the ghosts tonight.â
You could feel the weight of his words, the implications swirling in your mind like a storm. âWhat are you saying?â you asked, your voice barely steady, dread and curiosity pulling at you.
Without a sound, the cat began to walk away from the waterfront, its sleek form gliding through the shadows as if it were a part of them. The man gestured subtly encouraging you to follow.Â
âI suggest you see where this leads.â
You followed the black cat as it led you through the dimly lit streets. The air around you shimmered with an otherworldly energy, and you couldnât shake the feeling that you were being guided by something far greater than mere chance.
The cat paused in front of an unassuming door, its facade a curious blend of traditional and contemporary styles. The door was adorned with a delicate flowery overhang, its intricate designs seeming to shift subtly as if alive. With a soft meow, it pawed at the door, encouraging you to open it.Â
So you do.Â
The realm seemed to breathe with life, its atmosphere humming with a quiet, almost magical energy that seeped into your very bones. The walls pulsed with a soft, rhythmic glow, as if the shop itself were sentient, aware of your presence. Every corner of this enchanting realm was meticulously crafted to evoke wonder, from the collection of curios on the shelves to the hanging flowerfield above you.
âSeonghwa, you bastard, youâre lateâ Oh?â The voice was sharp and accusatory, cutting through the ambiance.Â
Your gaze shifted to the source of the voice. There stood a vibrant and enigmatic stranger, his presence striking in brightly colored robes and glinting jewelry that shimmered with every subtle movement. He was a living embodiment of the mystical realm he presided overâcaptivating in his otherworldly grace.
As your eyes met, the shopkeeper studied you, sensing the heaviness in your heart, the weight of whatever burden you carried. It was clear that you were barely holding it together, your composure a fragile mask meant to shield you from further vulnerability.Â
âSeonghwaâ, the shadowy figure, followed behind, seeming unfazed by the rebuke. There was a subtle ease in his movements, a confidence that suggested he was entirely at home in this strange and wondrous place.Â
âYour traveler has arrived,â Seonghwa announced with a casual nonchalance, as if his presence was a matter of routine rather than a potential disruption. His tone was light, almost amused, adding an air of detached amusement to the situation.
âWelcome traveler. I must apologize, it seems Lord Death and his ghosts gave you quite the scare,â His gaze flicked towards his friend, and a scowl of mild irritation crossed his features. âPlease call me Hongjoong. I am the keeper of the Astral Emporium,â he bowed, turning his attention back to you.
âAstral Emporium?â you echoed, the name lingering on your tongue with a sense of wonder. Your eyes wandered over the shopâs interior, taking in the gilded spines of ancient texts and the array of artifacts that seemed to shimmer with hidden magic.
Hongjoong nodded. âThe shop exists in a realm between the supernatural and the living, responding to the energy of your desires, known as wishes. Think of wishes as the hidden yearnings of your heart, and this place has the power to bring them to life.â
âYou bring wishes to life? As in, you grant them?â
âIn a sense,â Hongjoong replied, his voice carrying a playful lilt that softened the gravity of his words. âTo have a wish granted, you must offer something of equal value in return. This realm operates on a principle of balanceâthe universe demands equilibrium.â
You glanced down at the little black cat that had guided you here. Its fur was soft and comforting beneath your fingers, and its gentle purr seemed to blend with the quiet, expectant atmosphere of the shop. The cat leaned into your touch, clearly content with the affection. You tapped your finger gently on its nose, trying to think through the implications.
âDo I have to make a decision tonight?â you asked, a note of urgency in your voice. The least you could do is say goodbye to your parents and figure out how you were going to pay for your wish.Â
Hongjoongâs expression softened, and he looked at you with understanding. âNo. The shop has already revealed itself to you, and you may make your wish whenever you are ready,â he said with a reassuring smile. âHowever, I encourage travelers to take their time. Once a wish is granted, it cannot be undone.â
You nodded, feeling the weight of the impending decision settle heavily upon you. The quiet, almost palpable presence of the choice lingered in the air like a delicate mist. Your heart pounded as you contemplated the gravity of the situation, the stakes higher than you had ever imagined.Â
You eyed the golden retriever statue Yunho had given you your freshman year. Its calm expression remained unchanged, frozen in time. As you picked it up and ran your fingers over the smooth, cool surface, it served as a reminder of the pastâone you were now trying to reconcile with the present.
Scrolling through your contacts, your finger hovered over Yunhoâs name. The thought of reaching out, of trying to bridge the gap, was tempting, but the fear of what you might find on the other side held you back. What if you needed him? What if he needed you? The questions swirled in your head, making it hard to think clearly.Â
You sighed, setting the statue back on the shelf. It felt like a relic from another life, one where your best friend was a constant presence. The memories were bittersweet, filled with laughter and shared dreams, but also with the pain of growing apart.Â
Yunho stood at the window, his face pressed against the cool glass, watching with wide eyes as the moving truck rumbled to a stop across the street. The hum of activity and the clatter of boxes spilling onto the driveway filled the air. He bounced on his toes, barely able to contain his excitement.
âMom, thereâs a moving truck across the street!â Yunho exclaimed, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm. He pointed out the window, his eyes following the movers who were already hard at work.
His mother, busy in the kitchen, wiped her hands on a dish towel and walked over to join him. She peered out the window, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. âLooks like weâre getting new neighbors,â she said, her tone warm and welcoming.
Yunhoâs mind raced with possibilities. Would there be kids his age? Maybe someone who liked sports as much as he did? He imagined all the games they could play together, the adventures they could have. The thought made his heart race with anticipation.
Outside, the movers were unloading furniture: a large, comfy-looking couch, a dining table with matching chairs, and a tall bookshelf that Yunho imagined would be filled with interesting books and knick-knacks. He watched as a family car pulled up behind the truck, and a woman stepped out, followed by a girl about his age.
Yunhoâs face fell as he saw you step out of the car. âAw, itâs a girl!â he exclaimed, his excitement clearly dampened.
âYunho, it doesnât matter if itâs a boy or a girl. Whatâs important is that youâre welcoming a new neighbor.â
His cheeks reddened slightly as he looked up at his mom. âBut I thought itâd be someone I could play baseball with.â
His mother knelt down to his level, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. âYou never know, Yunho. She might like baseball too, or maybe she has other fun games to share. Why donât you give her a chance?â
Yunho sighed but nodded, his curiosity piqued despite his initial disappointment. He watched as you helped your parents carry boxes into the house. You seemed about his age, with a friendly smile and an air of confidence that intrigued him.
âWhy donât you go over and say hello?â his mother suggested, giving him a gentle nudge. âItâs always nice to welcome new neighbors.â
Gathering his courage, Yunho took a deep breath and walked over, but not without looking both ways before crossing the street. âHi!â he called out, trying to muster up his enthusiasm again. âIâm Yunho. Do you want to play with me later?â
You looked up from the box you were carrying, a surprised but friendly smile spreading across your face. âHi, Iâm Y/N,â you replied, setting the box down. âIâm six. Um, what do you like to do?â
Yunhoâs initial nervousness began to fade as he saw your welcoming expression. âI like baseball. And Iâm six too,â he said, his excitement returning. âDo you like baseball?â
You nodded enthusiastically, âMaybe we can play together here,â you exclaimed, pointing to your backyard. âMy backyard is really big!âÂ
Yunhoâs heart soared, feeling a sense of relief and happiness. He had been worried about making a new friend, but it seemed like things were going to work out just fine. He couldnât wait to show you around the neighborhood and introduce you to his favorite spots.Â
âMom, Y/N likes baseball too!â Yunho called out as he ran back to his house. His mother smiled, watching her sonâs excitement. He froze suddenly realizing he forgot something.Â
âI forgot to ask her about her favorite team!â he exclaimed, his voice bubbling with eagerness. He had clearly been so caught up in the excitement of meeting his new neighbor that he had overlooked this important detail.
His mother chuckled softly, sensing the genuine enthusiasm in her sonâs voice. âWell, it sounds like you have something to look forward to next time you see her. Maybe you can invite her over for a game or something.â
Yunho nodded vigorously, already imagining the fun of discussing baseball with his new friend. He dashed back to the window, peering out to catch another glimpse of you, hoping for a chance to continue your budding friendship.
Your life had largely revolved around Yunho, with him at the center of everything you did. Your world seemed to orbit around his presence, to the point you were deeply entangled in the expectations and dreams you had placed on him.Â
âPathetic.â That was one of the words Yunho had used to describe you, a word that echoed in your mind with a cruel sense of truth. As Yunho moved on with his lifeâdating Haewon, expanding his circle of friends, and pursuing new opportunitiesâyou remained as you were: unmoving, uncertain of what kind of future you would have without him.
Then came your literal brush with Lord Death himself and Hongjoong. The experience sparked something within you. You found yourself irresistibly drawn to the mysteries of this otherworldly realm, feeling an intense, almost primal urge to be a part of it. It was as if the brush with the supernatural had unlocked a deep-seated desire to break free from the constraints of your old life.
You opened your contacts again, your finger hovering over Yunhoâs name. You hesitated, feeling the gravity of what you were about to do.
Taking a deep breath, you pressed the delete button. Yunhoâs name vanished from your contacts, leaving an empty space where he used to be. It felt like a small act, but the weight of it hit you immediately, a reminder that some doors, once shut, could never be reopened.
A soft meow from outside your window drew your attention. Pulling back the curtain, you see the little black cat perched on the ledgeâthe same one that had first guided you to the emporium. The catâs eyes shimmered with a curious intelligence, locking onto yours as it stretched its small, agile body and began to paw at the window.
With a gentle push, you opened the window, and the cat trotted inside with an air of casual confidence. You crouched down, your fingers instinctively reaching out to caress its velvety fur.
âWhat are you doing here?â you ask, scratching behind its ears. âYouâre quite a ways from home.â
âThe ordinary rules of reality donât apply to me.â
You blinked in disbelief, your mind struggling to process the extraordinary claim. âYouâ You can talk!?â The words escaped your lips in a stammer, your astonishment palpable. The notion that a cat could converse was something straight out of a fairy tale, and yet here it was, happening right before your eyes.
âIndeed,â it said with a gentle purr that seemed almost amused. âMaster created me to assist with managing the shop while heâs away. I am a familiar, with the ability to traverse between realms. I can come and go as I please.â
Your eyebrows knitted together as you tried to absorb the catâs matter-of-fact response. âBut if youâre here, then whoâsââ
âMaster is, obviously,â the cat interrupted, its tail flicking lazily. âBut when he isnât, Iâm there.â
âAnd where does he go?â you asked, your voice edged with curiosity. The catâs nonchalant demeanor contrasted sharply with the gravity of your question.
The catâs demeanor shifted to something softer, almost wistful. âMaster Hongjoong is a powerful sorcerer. His duties often take him beyond the confines of this realm.Â
Sometimes heâs negotiating peace between warring factions, other times heâs retrieving lost artifacts of immense power.â
âWhile heâs away, I watch over the shop and keep things in order,â it continued, its voice carrying a note of quiet resignation. âItâs a lonely task at times, but itâs necessary for the travelers who come through looking to have their wishes granted.â
You noticed the subtle strain in the catâs voice, the way its eyes reflected a deep solitude.
âIt sounds like you have a very important role,â you said gently, hoping to offer some comfort. The depth of the familiarâs responsibilities became clearer to you, and with it, a newfound respect.Â
âIâm certain your master appreciates everything you do,â you added, your voice filled with sincerity.
The catâs eyes, still reflecting that subtle loneliness, brightened slightly at your words. âThank you,â it said softly.
You reached down and gently scratched behind its ears, hoping to offer a bit of solace. âAh, I donât know what to call you,â you said gently, realizing you hadnât yet asked for the catâs name.Â
âWooyoung,â the cat replied, the name rolling off its tongue with a sense of pride. âMaster Hongjoong gave it to me.â
âAnd what about you?â Wooyoung continued, its gaze curious and attentive. âYou didnât give us your name yesterday.â
âIâm Y/N,â you replied, your voice carrying a bit of warmth and a hint of vulnerability. The exchange felt like a small but significant step towards understanding this strange new world you had found yourself in.Â
As Wooyoung settled comfortably in your lap, purring softly, you found yourself contemplating the implications of your conversation. The idea of disappearing into the emporiumâs enigmatic realm began to seem increasingly appealing. Perhaps this magical world, with its mysteries and hidden depths, was exactly where you needed to be.
âHave you heard from Y/N?â Yunho asked, his voice strained and laced with worry.Â
Haewon looked up from her phone, her face mirroring his growing alarm. âNo, I havenât,â she replied, her brows knitting together as she struggled to grasp the gravity of the situation. âDid something happen?â
âHer dad called me this morning,â he said, his voice tight. âHe hasnât heard from her in a couple of days. She hasnât posted on her socials, and sheâs not responding to texts. I think the cops are going to do a wellness check. Iâm going to meet them there.â
Haewonâs worry deepened, her heart sinking as the implications of Yunhoâs words settled in. âThatâs not like her at all,â she said, her voice trembling slightly. âY/N is always so reliable. If sheâs gone silent for this long, something must be seriously wrong. She would never just disappear like this.â
Yunho sighed, running a hand through his hair. His gaze dropped to the floor as he wrestled with a surge of guilt. The fight heâd had with you, the way it had spiraled after Sungjaeâs humiliating display at his apartment, weighed heavily on him. He could still see the hurt in your eyes, the way you stormed out and dumped your journal, leaving behind a trail of unresolved emotions.
He hadnât reached out, thinking it might be best to give you some time to cool off. After all, you always came back. But now, as the days dragged on without a word from you, each passing moment felt like a missed opportunity to mend the rift he had caused.
âYou donât think it was because of Sungjae, do you?â Haewon asked. âYou know he didnât mean to say those things. He was drunk.â
But he did. Yunho knew, deep down, that the words Sungjae had spoken were hurtful and that they had contributed to the mess of emotions you were feeling. But there was a darker truth he couldnât ignore: he had not only allowed Sungjaeâs actions to influence the situation but had also failed to stand up for you and make amends.Â
âThereâs always an excuse for Sungjae,â he suddenly snapped, his voice sharp and edged with anger. âItâs always âhe didnât mean it,â âhe was drunk,â as if that makes his words any less hurtful. Itâs like youâre just brushing it off!â
Haewonâs expression hardened, her patience wearing thin. âI know you and Sungjae donât get along, but right now, focusing on him wonât help Y/N. We need to find out whatâs going on with her,â she retorted, rolling her eyes.
âYou donât get it, Haewon! Sungjae crossed the line and no one said anything! He fucking humiliated her in front of everyone!âÂ
They made her feel worthless, and I stood by and did nothing. I should have defended her. I should have been there for her, is what Yunho wanted to say.
âAnd what good does yelling at me do, Yunho? You think I donât care? You think Iâm not worried about Y/N? Sheâs my friend too!â
âYouâre always defending him! Why canât you see how much damage heâs done?â
âStanding here arguing isnât going to help her!â
Yunhoâs eyes burned with intensity. âFine. You stay here and make excuses for Sungjae. Iâm going over to Y/Nâs.â
With that, Yunho turned on his heel and stormed out, leaving Haewon standing there, her heart pounding with fear. She knew he was right about one thing: they needed to find you, and fast. But the rift between them felt wider than ever, and she couldnât shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of a much deeper conflict.
As you approached the shop, the familiar, otherworldly ambiance enveloped you once more. The air was thick with the scent of ancient incense and jasmine, a blend that always made you feel both curious and comforted.
The door creaked open, and a soft, melodic chime rang out, greeting you with its gentle tinkle, like a whisper from another world.
Making your way further into the shop, you caught the faintest whisper of hushed voices. You slowed your steps, moving quietly to avoid intruding on what sounded like a private conversation. The shop was a labyrinth of towering shelves, each filled with enchanted curiosities that seemed to hum with their own secret lives.
You noticed that Hongjoongâs expression was serious, his brow furrowed in concentration, while Seonghwa listened intently, his eyes reflecting the gravity of their discussion.
âThe Auroran Empire is preparing for a major offensive against Wonderland. Itâs not just about territory anymore; their queen has officially lost her mind,â he said, his voice low and tense.Â
âShe wants to bring about a new era of dominance,â he continued, his eyes narrowing. âBut in her madness, sheâs likely to destroy everything in her path. Her decisions are unpredictable and increasingly violent. Wonderland wonât just be facing a military assault; theyâll be up against an unpredictable force of destruction.â
âDragons against dragons,â Seonghwa murmured, referring to the legendary beasts often associated with said realm. âThe collateral damage could be catastrophic.â
Seonghwaâs expression grew serious as he met Hongjoongâs gaze. âYouâre going to have to leave for quite some time, arenât you? If this is escalating to such extremes, there will be a need for intervention, and it wonât be a quick affair.â
âLet me take over the shop,â you said, stepping out from the shadows. Your voice was steady, though your heart raced with the weight of your request. The air crackled with the energy of the emporium, and you could feel the gravity of the moment settling in.
Hongjoong looked up, raising an eyebrow in surprise. âHello to you too, traveler,â he said, though the casual greeting did little to mask the seriousness underlying his words.
âWooyoung told me your powers take you elsewhere,â you said, your voice steady despite the swirling emotions beneath. âIf I take over the shop, you can continue to fulfill your duties in other realms while I manage things here.â
Hongjoongâs eyes narrowed slightly as he considered your proposal. âThis place,â he began, his voice soft but firm, âis where the threads of many worlds converge. Itâs about understanding the intricate balance that holds these realms together.â
You followed closely as Hongjoong started walking through the aisles of the emporium. Each step echoed softly in the vast space filled with enchanted artifacts and mystical relics.Â
âI understand the gravity of this responsibility,â you said, matching his pace and keeping your voice firm. âI might not have your experience, but Iâm willing to learn,â you continued your plea.
Hongjoong stopped abruptly and turned to face you, his eyes narrowing with a mixture of concern and skepticism. His expression was stern, the weight of your request clearly pressing on him.Â
âItâs a significant responsibility, one that requires dedication and resilience. Iâm not going to hand it over to a humanââ
âArenât you a human as well?â you shot back, your voice tinged with frustration. The retort slipped out before you could stop it, and the sharpness of your words echoed through the shop.
Hongjoongâs eyes widened in surprise, and he crossed his arms defensively, his posture rigid. âThat doesnât matter,â he stammered, clearly caught off guard by your response. âMy situation is differentââ
Seonghwa, who had been quietly observing the tense exchange, decided to interject as he trailed behind you. âShe has a point. Wonderland is asking you to intervene on their behalf. The situation is escalating, and having someone reliable at the shop would be crucial.â
âNo,â Hongjoong replied sharply, continuing his stride through the labyrinthine aisles of the shop, his frustration evident in his quickened pace. âThe emporium is a nexus of power that requires a deep understanding and connection. Itâs not something you can just hand over to anyone.â
âThen take my memories,â you blurted out, your voice trembling with urgency. âIf youâre worried about my ability to handle the shop, erase my memories of everything but the basics of running this place. Make me a blank slate so I can focus entirely on managing the emporium.â
Hongjoong halted abruptly, turning to face you with a mixture of shock and contemplation. His eyes searched your face, as if trying to gauge the sincerity of your offer. Seonghwa, too, looked intrigued by the unexpected proposal.
âYou donât know what youâre asking for,â Hongjoong gritted, his voice laced with disbelief and a hint of frustration. His eyes bore into yours, searching for any sign of hesitation or doubt. âThatâs a drastic measure. Youâre willing to give up everything for this?â He gestured broadly to the surroundings, the air thick with the hum of ancient magic.
You hesitated, feeling the weight of his question. âAt first, I just wanted to disappear,â you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. âMy life had become a tangled mess of unfulfilled expectations and unresolved emotions. It didnât matter what happened to me as long as I wasâŚgone.â
You took a deep breath, meeting Hongjoongâs eyes with newfound determination. âBut then, I realized something important. I didnât have a purpose, and I was uncertain about my future. I thought about the night I came here, and it made me see that I wasnât just trying to escape from something; I was searching for something to move towards.â
Hongjoong studied you intently, his eyes searching for any sign of hesitation or doubt. Seonghwa, meanwhile, shifted his weight thoughtfully, clearly processing the significance of your words.
âIâve spent so long feeling adrift,â you continued, your voice filled with conviction. âBut now I see that the emporium is an opportunity to find and fulfill my purpose.â
Hongjoongâs gaze remained piercing, yet the softness in his eyes deepened, reflecting empathy and understanding. He took a moment to absorb your words, the weight of your request settling over him. His expression softened further, and he nodded slowly, as if coming to a decision.
âIs that your wish?â he asked, his voice gentle yet carrying the gravity of the moment.
âYes,â you confirmed, your voice carrying a blend of certainty and resolve. âThat is my wish.â
âMom?â
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before your motherâs voice came through, warm and concerned. âY/N? Whatâs the matter? You sound a bit off.â
âNothing, really,â you said, trying to keep your voice steady, though a catch in your throat betrayed the weight of your emotions. âI just wanted to call and see how you and Dad are doing.â
Your motherâs voice softened further, her concern evident as she sensed the underlying sadness. âWeâre doing well. Itâs been a quiet day. Your fatherâs been busy with his gardenâheâs finally getting those tomatoes to growâand weâre just taking a break now. How about you? Everything okay?â
âYeah, everythingâs fine,â you said, though the words felt hollow and insubstantial. âI just⌠wanted to check in before I go back to studying. I also think I might have found an opportunity worth pursuing.â
âThatâs great, honey! Iâm glad youâre staying on top of things,â your mother replied, her voice filled with pride. âJust remember to take care of yourself, okay? Donât push too hard.â
âI wonât,â you promised, though the truth was far more complicated than you could ever explain in a single phone call.Â
As you spoke, a tear slipped down your cheek, betraying the sadness and relief you felt. It was a small release, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil that had been simmering just beneath the surface.Â
âMom,â you said, your voice softer now, the vulnerability creeping in despite your best efforts to hide it. âI just want you to know that I love you and Dad.â
There was a brief silence on the other end, the kind that only comes when someone is processing something unexpected. âWe love you too, Y/N. Iâm happy you called. If thereâs anything you need or want to talk about, weâre here for you.â
âI know,â you whispered, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. You nodded, even though she couldnât see you, letting the comfort of her words wash over you, even as the weight of your own decisions pressed down harder. âI love you both.â
âWe love you too. Take care of yourself.â
You ended the call, the weight of the conversation lingering as a poignant reminder of the ties that bound you to your family. Their love and support were a comforting anchor, grounding you as you prepared to navigate the irreversible course ahead.Â
âTraveler?â you called out, your voice soft yet clear, cutting through the haze of the manâs thoughts. You stepped closer, concern etched into your features as you reached out to him. âIs everything all right?â
The man blinked, pulled back into the present by the sound of your voice. For a moment, he couldnât find the words to respond. His mind was still tangled in the web of what-ifs and should-haves, but the look in your eyesâsteady, patientâreminded him that he wasnât alone in this moment.Â
He swallowed hard, his throat dry as he struggled to form a coherent thought. âI⌠Iâd like some time to think about what I want to wish for,â he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. There was a vulnerability in his tone, one that spoke of the doubts and fears heâd been carrying for far too long.Â
You nodded, your expression softening as you stepped closer, your hand nearly reaching his. âTake all the time you need,â you reassured gently. âThe shop exists outside of time and welcomes those it chooses. Youâre welcome to come and go until youâre ready to decide.â
âThank you,â he whispered. The weight of making a wish, of deciding on something so significant, had been overwhelming, but your presence made it feel more manageable. âIt helps to know that I can come back when Iâm ready.âÂ
He looked at youâthere was no judgment in your gaze, no expectationâjust a quiet understanding that allowed him to breathe a little easier.
âIâm Yunho, by the way,â he added softly, as if sharing his name was a small but significant step toward reconnecting with youâat least this version of you. The corners of his lips lifted in a faint but genuine smile, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
âYunho,â you repeated. The way you said his name was like a delicate thread, fragile and precious. It felt as though each syllable was an attempt to capture something fleeting, a moment of intimacy slipping through your fingers, yet cherished all the same.Â
<< i | iii >>
taglist: @babymbbatinygirl @intowxnderland @hwasa28 @thedistractedwriter @beabatiny @lovelyglares @spenceatiny18 @tiny-apocalypse @sunnysidesins @heyitsmetonid @jwone @laurenwidjaja @potatos-on-clouds
#ateez#ateez fanfic#jeong yunho#ateez yunho#yunho x reader#yunho x you#ateez fic#modern au#ateez au#magic au#yunho#ateez imagines#yunho angst#forget me not#supernatural au
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So since im kinda autistic about the new wolverine and deadpool movie im just gonna post some poolverine/deadclaws headcanons to help keep myself sane :]
Deadpool and Wolverine spoilers under the cut
Also Logan is autistic because I said so
Wade will drink whatever in his coffee in the morning, he doesn't care, meanwhile logan needs a ridiculous amount of things in his morning coffee for it to be drinkable to him
Logan is too much of a wuss puss to admit it though and just didn't drink coffee for a long time
Then, one day, out of the blue, Wade came home with two coffees, one for himself and one for logan (and a puppicino for mary puppins ofc)
Logan refused at first and only agreed to try it to get Wade to stop whining
Needless to say, he was genuinely surprised (and ever-so-slightly creeped out) that Wade knew what he liked in his coffee without telling him
"Apparently, oldie wolvie liked his coffee like that." Wade told him
Wade might've fallen first, but logan fell harder
He was HARD on the denial train
At first he didn't know why or what he was feeling whenever he was around Wade
Feeling jealous whenever Wade gives his attention to someone else? Just annoyed that the other person doesn't express the same "disgust" he has for Wade
Feeling mad when someone finally expresses their "disgust" towards deadpool? That's just because he wasn't that annoying that day and didn't deserve mean (but true) things said about him
Just woke up screaming from a nightmare and needs to hug Wade to feel grounded again because the time ripper killed him in his dreams? He just allows it because mary puppins wasn't quick enough to do it
The feeling of butterflies in his stomach whenever Wade looks at him with nothing but adoration and love in his eyes? Probably just something off in the food he ate earlier that day
Feeling the urge to grab Wade by his face and kiss him while whispering sweet nothings until the universe explodes? Just an intrusive thought or two
It isn't until he's on some random walk with mary puppins that he finally realizes that he just might have a crush on deadpool
He pretty much goes through the seven stages of grief once he realizes
It became more difficult to shove his feelings down his throat whenever he was around Wade after that
It wasn't until another one of their "family game nights" that Negasonic pulled Logan aside to talk to him
"When will you two just make it official already?" "What the hell are you talking about?" "About you and Wade, that's what. You don't seriously think that nobody in this building can see you two clearly have a thing for each other, right?" "Still don't know what you're talking about" "What are you on right now?" "The autism spectrum."
Negasonic gave up trying to talk to Logan about Wade after that
After all of that was said and done, it wouldnât be until one of Wade's random teasings that finally made Logan snap
"God peanut, you wanna kiss me sooo bad it makes you look stupid~"
That was it.
Logan closed the distance between himself and Wade, grabbed his face, and kissed him passionately before he pulled away
"Hhholy fucking hell peanut, how long were you saving that for?" "You've got no idea bub"
"Does this mean I can finally use the blowjob handles on your mask?"
Meanwhile Althea shouts "I CAN HEAR YOU MOTHERFUCKERS CLEAR AS DAY!"
Anyway, I think I might make a part 2 to this post, but idk
#ship headcanons#headcanons#marvel#poolverine#deadpool vs wolverine#deadclaws#deadpool x wolverine#deadverine#deadclaw#wade x logan#wade wilson#loganpool#logan howlett#marvel headcanons#op doesn't know shit about x-men#old man yaoi#wolverpool#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine#tw swearing#cw swearing#suggestive humor
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congrats on 2k!!! you deserve it and so so much more <3
can i request being overprotective of them in front of prospective partners with max ofc thank u very much -cait/@leclerced
# prompt no.10, being overprotective of them in front of prospective partners
mariahcarreyyy's 2k celebration announcement post
It was embarrassing.
Watching two grown men argue over who would drive you home from the lively, neon-lit bar led to a bashful flush, warming your body amidst the crisp darkness of the night.
Only minutes prior, Max had taken one look at you and decided home was where you should be. You didn't make any protests because he's right; you wonder if you looked like a book to Maxâpages crinkled, broken spines, and easily read words in his favorite font.
"I can take my fucking girlfriend home, Max," your boyfriend, Scotty, seethes through gritted teeth, an ugly vein bursting on his forehead.
Scotty evidently did not like the idea of Max driving you home for a reason you had no idea of. You and Max had been friends for years, so if even an ounce of your yearning and want was reciprocated, he would've done something by now.
That thought did little to dwindle the stubborn 'what if's from gnawing at your soul, the twinge in your heart whenever you see Max with anyone but yourself.
And also the slight guilt at thinking of another man when you have a perfectly fine one waiting at home for you each night but. Whatever.
"I swear to fucking God if you get into that car with her--"
Eyes widening, you place a calming hand on Max's shoulder and ignore the daggers your boyfriend is glaring at your touch. "Okay, how 'bout we all relax, yeah?"
Max cranes his neck to look at you, his harsh facade melting when he catches sight of the worry etched on your face. Once his heaving turned into steady breathing, your face ducking shyly to look away from his gaze, your boyfriend cleared his throat loudly.
You hastily drop your hand like the Dutch had burned you, and Max lets out a disapproving noise at the loss of your contact. Yeah, Scotty did not look impressed. The murderous glint in his eyes did nothing to quell the uncomfortable atmosphere, his jaw flexing like he's capable of murder, of tearing Max's limbs off and letting the blood spill on the pavement.
"Scotty...to be fair, you did drink, and I don't really feel like dying tonight."
A hand creeps around Max's waist, your fingertips pinching the flesh after you hear him snort. A barely concealed yelp from the driver has Scotty scrunching his nose up in distaste, nostrils flared, and betrayal painted across his face.
You should probably side with your boyfriend, but. But the cool breeze makes the tiny hairs on your arms stand up, teeth chattering; you wrap the thin, barely-there jacket Max gave you at the beginning of the night and roll your eyes, walking to Max's car.
Fondly, Max observes the impatient tapping of your foot and flush on your faceâfrom the cold, he tells himself, not for the same reasons as himself. He raises his brows tauntingly at Scotty before advancing towards your shaky frame.
"Fuckin' bitch," Scotty mutters into the air, lips pursed into a scowl and vodka overriding his senses.
Your ears don't quite grasp the words, but Max's do. So, when the world champion's fist paves the way for the colorful hues of a bruise to bloom on the bridge of your boyfriend's nose, you can't help but choke on a gasp.
authors note. anddddd scotty makes a comeback!!!! tbf in the og fic he was actually portrayed as a good bf. max & reader r js bad ppl. now i dont have to feel bd tho cus he's terrible in thisđĽ°
#mariahcarreyyy . . . 2k celebration#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen smut#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#mv1 smut#mv1 x y/n#mv1 x you#mv1 fic#mv1 imagine#mv1 x reader#mv33 smut#mv33 imagine#mv33 x reader#mv33 x you#mv33 fic#formula one x reader#formula one x you#formula one x y/n#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#f1 2024#f1 fanfic
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Please, when u have the time, more Pietro stuff đđđ ur writing for him is excellent and I need more!! Headcanons, stories, idc I just need more Quicksilver written by u.
Enemies to lovers!Quicksilver/GN!reader - pt 2
Here's part 1
It's finally here!! I'm sorry if there are any spelling mistakes. Also, I think the ending is probably the most dialogue heavy scene I've done so far, and I'm not entirely happy with it, but i wanted to post this so bad!! I might go back and edit later though. Hope you all enjoy!! TWS: Fighting, passive aggression, full on aression kinda, logan is a worried asshole big brother, Professor X watching his tragedy not quite repeat. Pietro is kinda an ass but he's a broken ass so its okay.
You and Pietro had a weird relationship. And it seemed to just spiral into even weirder territories and murkier waters. Each and every interaction tiptoed into something a little more than just enemies, and one night you think the two of you fully crossed the line. You were sure of it, and it was just the start.
    Youâre finally starting to fall asleep when thereâs a sudden whoosh of air and grunt of pain. It startles you, and you sit straight up in bed, leaning over to flicker on the light. When your eyes finally adjust, you see Pietro standing by the window, hunched over in clear distress.
    âPietro? What are you doing here?â You ask, But he doesnât respond. His suit is ripped and bloody, and various deep cuts litter his skin. You swear heâs about to pass out as he stands in front of you, swaying just a little like he did on that day at the beach. Whatever fight he had just been through, it had taken a little more out of him than that fast metabolism could heal so quickly.Â
    âAre you okay?â You ask, wide-eyed at him. Pietro grimaces in a way that looks more angry than it does pained, and yet he still says nothing. Unable to deal with the idea of admitting he needs help, you assume.
    Heâs sitting on your bed now, naked from the waist up as you stitch his wounds. Heâs been silent the whole time, only offering a wince or grunt every now and then with particularly tender wounds. Right now youâre on your knees as you stitch up a rather deep cut on his upper side, his arms keeping his balance as he leans back on your bed.
    âDo you wanna talk about it?â You ask eventually. Pietroâs chest pulls on the stitches just a little as he huffs in annoyance, regretting the action a moment too late.
    âIf I did, I would be.â He snaps. You raise an eyebrow at him as you begin a new stitch, piercing the skin perhaps a tad less cautious than you had been before.
    âTake it easy, speedster. âLast time I checked I was the one with the needles in my hand.â You snark. Pietro has nothing more to say to that, instead turning his head away so that he doesnât have to look at you. It doesnât take a genius to know heâs a bit embarrassed at this whole situation, and you feel a bit bad for him. Out of all the places he could have gone to, there had to be a reason he chose to come here. You just couldnât tell what that reason was.Â
    Youâre gentle while you finish wrapping him in bandages, and he canât seem to look you in the eyes even for a second. When you reach out to brush some dirt off of his face, he finally meets your eyes. Heâs a little less guarded than he was before, but the wall between the two of you still remains. There's a quick gust of wind as he moves towards the open window, stopping just before he leaves.
    â...Thank you.â He says after a moment, looking at you from the corner of his eye. You smile at him, a warm feeling in your chest. The difference in his attitude was noticeable, and the fact that he was acting even a little less cold with you was reassuring.
    âYouâre welcome.â You reply, and then heâs gone again, having closed the window behind him this time.
The difference between the two sides of Pietro you saw was so jarring. You were so used to the cocky asshole that spent all his effort in terrorizing you, not the quiet, almost angry, and guarded man that stood before you that night- and the many nights afterward.
The second time he showed up, this time woundless and simply laid on your bed to rant, you were surprised but didnât mind it. Then it happened again, and again, and then came the board games, the nights of talking endlessly, and the midnight snacking.Â
And eventually, Pietro started to climb into your bed. He never spoke a word when he did, simply pulling back the covers and pulling you close, pressing his face into the back of your neck. Nights like this were vulnerable, and tender. Quiet. He came to you in need of comfort often, and you were willing to be his safe space for as long as he wanted.
The more he came to you, hurt or angry or sad, the more concerned you became. And you were upfront about it, much to his dismay.
     âYou know, I get that weâre on two different sides of things- but you know that the schoolâs doors are always open to those who need it, right?â You ask, late one night after he had crawled into bed by your side. You were facing him, hand curling on the pillow an inch away from his face, fighting the urge to brush his bangs away from his forehead. Immediately, he has a negative reaction to it. He scowls, recoiling away from you as he glares. You know it should hurt worse than it does, but all you can see is the hurt he's feeling right now.
    âThe last thing I need is for another person to tell me what to do.â He snaps, turning his head away from you as he sits up and runs his hand through his hair, aggravated. You sit up on the bed a little further, almost wanting to reach for him, but you donât.
    âPietro, You know thatâs not what I meant-â You say, softy.
    âDoes it matter what you meant?â Pietro practically cuts you off. His tone is sharp, and it hurts you for a second. You frown at him- not that he could see it anyway, and the hurt quickly turns to aggravation on your end.
    "Yes, it does. I'm not bossing you around, I'm just telling you that the X-men- myself included- are here if you need any help." You huff, watching as he practically rolls his eyes at you and stands, looming over the bed as he turns to look at you.
    "The telling part is the problem. Everyone tells me that I could do something, but what they mean is that I should do it." He snaps. You move over to his side of the bed before standing, almost in a challenge. The two of you are now almost uncomfortably close, to the point where youâre sure if you moved an inch your noses would be touching.
    "Well, What if that's not what Iâm doing but you're just reading it that way?" You say, meeting his gaze. Pietro was never one to back down from a confrontation, especially not one with you. You donât think youâve ever seen him quite this angry at you before, rocky past be damned.
    "So youâre saying I'm overanalyzing?" He says, and you groan at the fact that nothing you said was getting through to him, pushing the palms of your hands into the outer edge of your eye sockets.Â
    "I'm saying that I'm not your dad-"Â
    "And what would you know about my family?!" Pietro yells, and youâre quick to look back up at him, scowling.Â
    "Don't raise your voice at me!â You snap, pushing a finger into his chest. âI know enough to know that your dad controls every aspect of what you do, and that's not fair to you." You tell him.
    "Don't pretend that you understand or care about any of that" Pietro says, grabbing ahold of your hand rather tightly. God! You did not understand why he couldnât get it through his thick fucking skull!
    "I do care, Pietro!" The words burst out of you, almost uncontrollably. You slam your other fist into his chest, tears of frustration welling in your eyes as you look at him. His eyes are wide, looking shocked and confused. Youâre beginning to lose your fight, leaning against his chest, still somewhat caught in his grip despite the fact that his hold on your hand had become light, and still, it felt confining.Â
    "I may not understand why you do what you do, but I do care about you." Your words come out quieter this time, blinking away those stupid tears that had started to well. Pietroâs eyebrows are furrowed, eyes searching your own, but you don't know what for. The two of you stand there for what feels like forever for both of you speedsters, but was surely more like a split second. Youâre still pressed up against his chest, faces so close they could touch.
    And then they did.
    Pietro is the first to kiss you, leaning in and quickly cupping the back of your neck with his free hand, almost in a possessive manner. Once his thoughts have finally caught up with his actions, he pulls back. He looks at you, wide-eyed at his own actions before you gently pull him back in for another kiss. It only takes a moment to click before he sighs into you, melting into the kiss. His kisses are tender, sweet presses of his lips against your own. After a few long moments, you slowly pull away from him. He rests his forehead against your own, a fond look in his eyes that you were sure you mirrored.Â
From that night on, his nightly visits to you meant something more than they had in the past.
That didnât mean that they went unnoticed by others, however, and one day you found yourself being called into the professor's study. Of course you were a little worried, but you were so sure that there was no way anyone could have noticed, right?
    Logan is standing next to the professor's desk when you enter the room, frowning with his arms crossed. Professor Xavier on the other hand sits rather calmly, inviting you to sit down. You choose to stand instead, cocking your head at them.
    âWow. What is this, an intervention?â You joke, trying to laugh off the oddness of the situation.
    âYup.â Logan snorts. You shoot him a confused and slightly panicked look that the professor picks up on immediately.
    âThereâs no need to worry, my dear.â The professor says calmly. âWe just had a few concerns about-âÂ
    âWe know that Magnetoâs brat has been sneaking into your room.â You almost flinch at Logan's accusatory tone, bristling with a sudden flash of embarrassment and then anger at him for what he calls Pietro. âIâve been smelling his scent on you for weeks.â Logan finishes, and youâre so taken aback you donât know what to say at first, mouth hanging open in shock.
    âEasy, Logan.â The professor says, raising an eyebrow at the furry man, but Logan isnât listening, approaching you with a scowl on his face.
    âHave you ever heard the phrase, no fraternizing with the enemy, kid?â He continues, and the close contact has you bristling again, unwilling to back down.
    âLogan.â The professor tries again, unsuccessfully.
    âLook, the first time he came to me he was injured. I wasnât going to turn him away.â You finally say, fists clenching as you ignore Logan before looking back at the professor instead.
    âI understand that. In fact, Iâm thankful that you could be so forgiving towards Pietro, despite the past the two of you share.â The professor states, but his words hardly relieve you.
    âThen what is the problem?â You ask, exacerbated by this whole interaction already. Logan seems to be angry that youâre ignoring him but snorts at your question.
    â-The problem is that you shouldnât be letting him in your knickers.â You gasp at Logan's accusation, and the professor looks appalled.Â
    âLogan!â Professor X scolds as you struggle and scrabble for words, now both embarrassed, mortified, and rather flush in the face.
    â-Excuse you! We werenât- weâve never!â Itâs a struggle to finally find your words, and even more embarrassing to be so caught off guard. What kind of asshole accuses someone of that out in the freaking open?! In front of your mentor no less?!
    âSure you havenât. Thatâs why your bed doesnât smell like him.â Logan rolls his eyes, and you refrain from punching him in the face right then and there.
    âWell if your stupid nose was as good as you say it is, you would know that we haven't done anything just by the smell!â
    âJust because it hasnât happened now-âÂ
    ENOUGH! Both of you! The professor silenced the argument with a single thought. Both you and Logan feel scolded, and yet still bitter about the other. You cross your arms in a bit of a defensive manner ad the two of you turn back to face the professor.
    âThis was never supposed to be an argument, simply a conversation.â He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. You scoff at that, sending a pointed look in Loganâs direction.
    âWell maybe, Logan should learn to stay out of my business!â You say, only for the professor to hold his hand up for you to stop, simply hoping both you and Logan would quit continuing to dig this hole deeper and deeper.
    âIâve heard enough.â Professor X states. âWe were simply concerned about the nature of the relationship between the two of you, seeing that you have been growing closer. I know your mind, and I trust you to stay by the X-menâs side.â
    âThen what is this?â You ask, the words coming out as more of a whisper. Logan sighs, looking regretful but ever the stubborn ass. He looks at you, moving to where he can lean against the professorâs desk again.
    â... Look, Kid. we just donât want you to get hurt. Anything between you and Pietro isnât going to end well.â Logan says. You feel a little more understanding of him now, but only a bit, with him back to acting like he normally did. He was always an older brother figure to you, but that did not give him the right to air out your business, even if the professor could find out everything that had been happening with the barest glimpse into your mind. Still, you scowl just slightly at Logan, looking away from him. He sighs again, and with a nod from the professor, leaves the room. The professor nods you over to his side, wheeling his way towards the bookshelf with one particular photo on it. One of him and Magento in their college days.
    âYou are an adult. I cannot stop you from making your own decisions.â The professor starts. You find yourself tracing the features of the young Erik, finding the image of Pietro in every part of his father's face. The professor looks at you, and all he can see is a face so similar to his own. âI too, understand what it is like to hold affection for someone so distantly aligned from you. Itâs due to that understanding that I worry for you. IâŚâ The professor trails off and you turn to look at him with a frown. You knew. You know. The two of you are so different from each other, but surely that didnât mean you would be enemies forever? He wouldnât hurt you in the way that Magneto had hurt the professor so many times before⌠would he? Professor Xavier reaches out to take your hand in both of his own, squeezing it reassuringly.
    âJust be careful, my dear.âÂ
    âI understand, professor.âÂ
#I will say though theres no way no one didn't here them fighting through the walls#LIke think about Jubes pressing her ear against the wall and the kitty phasing her ear through it and hoping to not get caught#but seriously who needs bridgerton#x men#x men 97#x men comics#x men headcannons#x men 97 x reader#quicksilver#quicksilver headcannons#quicksilver x reader#x men quicksilver#pietro maximov x reader#pietro maximoff x reader#pietro maximoff#pietro maximov#marvel xmen#marvel x men#marvel reader insert#marvel x reader#marvel comics#marvel#WATX#wolverine and the x men
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Wait. Wait. Kinda part 2 to this post. For the angst of it all. Cw: implied and assumed homophobia
Because sure, after that dinner Joyce relents in not being, y'know, openly confused or frustrated with Steve being around. El obviously adores him and Jim is always glad when he comes around. Joyce can put up with Steve for them. But she's a stubborn woman, and somewhere in her mind, Steve is a Bad Egg. So she's still not 100% on board.
All this rears its head one night after a lot of their world saving group has had a movie night and ended up in a puddle on the floor. Steve is squished between Robin and Eddie, snuggled up all cozy. Joyce sees this when she quietly pads out of her bedroom to just. Check on the kids.
Eddie and Steve are sat up, Robin's face pressed against his hip. They're whispering something, heads leaned close. And they lean in further, silhouetted by the moonlight filtering in, and kiss. It's pretty chaste, though not a peck.
Joyce's blood boils. Steve has a girlfriend, he should not be going around kissing his friends like that, stringing them all along. She feels strangely vindicated, that her assumptions about Steve were right, that he wasn't actually a good guy or had changed at all. She almost yells at him then and there, but holds off. No need to wake everyone up. She can lecture him in the morning.
Once everyone is fed and lounging in the late morning, she pulls Steve out onto the porch.
"I saw you kiss Eddie last night" she says, without preamble. "And I cannot believe you would think behaviour like that is acceptable in my house."
Steve blinks, clenches his jaw. "Jo--Mrs Byers. I--"
"I don't want any of your excuses! It's despicable what you're doing, and I won't have it. For whatever reason, those kids look up to you. What kind of example are you setting for them? For El?" Steve's eyes widen, and if Joyce hadn't been so caught up with her anger she probably would have seen that instead of being ashamed or embarrassed, Steve is scared. "She looks up to you so much, though I can't imagine why. You need to clean yourself up, Steve. For real this time. You can't go around doing whatever you want. It's disgusting and disrespectful. Did you even consider the people you'd hurt? How doing shit like that would affect the lives of people who care about you? They deserve better than that." She shakes her head. Arms crossed. Steve is tense in front of her, but he doesn't say anything. To her, that's as good as confession. "Everyone talks about how you've worked hard to improve yourself, become a better person. But after last night? I just don't believe it. No one who's really changed, really a good person, would do what you did." She sighs. "You should probably leave now."
Steve nods stiffly. "Right. I'll. Uh, I leave. Can you...please, don't tell anyone, ma'am. I'll Grab my bag and I'll get outta your hair, but don't tell. I'm so sorry. Please." She purses her lips. His girlfriend deserves to know, but Joyce has no clue who that is (it might be the Robin girl attached to his hip, but she has no way of knowing). She nods once. Steve's shoulders slump.
Stepping back into the house, Steve quickly and jerkily snags his backpack from the corner it was shoved into before leaning over to whisper something in Robin's ear. The girl nods, looking worried.
He doesn't look at Eddie.
For a while, her house is Steve-free. Joyce breathes easy, hoping their talk was a wake-up call for steve. He is painfully polite when they bump into each other, Robin usually by his side with a strained customer service smile. Small talk is non-existent.
But then Will starts getting quieter. Maybe avoiding her. Certainly does his best to be small and doesn't look in her eyes. She has no idea what's going on, and she's worried.
What if the Upside Down came back? What if there's something wrong with her boy? What if everything they've fought for and sacrificed didn't mean anything and it's never actually over?
She tries to talk to him, but he shrugs her off, says he's fine and not to worry about it. Assures her it is definitely not the Upside Down.
Finally, after two weeks of Will looking absolutely miserable when he talks to her, she gets Jonathan to try. Tension around the house is high, Steve is barely around and always skitters away when he sees her, and in combination with will, it's out everyone on edge.
She doesn't mean to eavesdrop. But she doesn't not mean to either. It's just that they're on the porch, and she was in the kitchen and heard something, and when she went to see, she heard them talking.
"it's not--i want to tell you but it's not my secret to tell."
Jonathan sighs. "Will. I can't help if I don't know what's wrong. Please. Talk to me. I'll love you no matter what, you know that."
Will heaves a breath. "I had a talk with Steve --" and oh, the rage in Joyce's chest when she hears that. What did he say to her boy?? "And...uhg. fuck. Okay, you have to swear, swear! You're not going to tell anyone what I'm going to tell you. If you figure it out, because I don't. It's not mine to tell."
"okay. I swear. I won't go spilling Steve's secrets."
"you have to mean it, Jonathan. It's dangerous!"
There's ruffling fabric. Jonathan's voice is softer. "I promise."
"Steve said he was telling me because he thought we might be...similar. In some ways. And he talked about who he's dating. And that Hopper and El and Robin and Eddie know. And that they're all safe. Y'know? Like you are."
"okay..."
"and I said you were, and he said that was really good, and then emphasized that if I ever wanted like, and actual grown up to talk to, not just another teenager, Hopper was safe. But. The way he said it made it seem like...I don't know, but something was off? And I asked him." There's a pause. "I asked him if Mom knew. And he said yes. But he hadn't... Before that, he hadn't said she was safe. Jonathan..."
Something...wasn't adding up. Joyce was trying to puzzle what she wouldn't be safe to talk to about. She'd been in the tunnels and Upside Down and through it all. Her children, and by extension the children that had helped save them, were always safe in her house. To come to her if they felt unsafe. Why Steve would tell her own son she wasn't --
Will continued. "Steve said that it'd probably be different because I'm her kid, y'know? She--she did all this stuff to get me back and to keep me safe and loves me. So she could. So she'd maybe change her mind. For me."
"Will..." Jonathan's voice sounds pained.
"but what if she's not? What if that's where it ends? Shell save me from a demogorgon but not love me for this. Steve's saved my friends half a dozen times, Jonathan! He got--he got tortured" that is not something Joyce knew. When the hell did that happen? "with Robin to protect Dustin and Erica, Billy beat him half to death when he stepped in to protect Lucas and Max! He's good! I'm not as close to him as the others but he still told me. He trusted me enough with a secret that I can't even say outloud about myself yet! And Mom still-" will hiccups, and Joyce wishes she knew what he was talking about. Wishes he was saying these things to her, so she could comfort him.
Heaving a breath, Will is quieter. "Steve's the reason no one's died. He's El's first brother. And she still called him disgusting for-- for kissing someone he loves."
Ice fills Joyce's veins, a heavy pit balls in her stomach. Because that's not--she didn't--it wasn't like that.
But Steve had begged her not to tell anyone. Had stood still and not tried to justify anything and called her ma'am when he asked her not to tell. Held himself still when she was around and bolted at the first possible opportunity, leaving disappointed people in his wake. Oh, shit. Oh, she's fucked up so badly. Hurt some kid because she was suspicious of him from over three years ago and assumed the worst. Instead of realizing that maybe the reason he and his girlfriend were keeping it quiet was because he didn't have a girlfriend at all, and that the boy he kissed that night was his boyfriend, she had just assumed he was cheating. And then she'd told him he was disappointing and disgusting and a bad influence on the kids. Even after, he still made sure Will knew there were safe people around, that he'd have someone to talk to. And all she'd done was make him scared of her.
"oh, buddy."
Will's voice is muffled, and Jonathan has probably pulled him into a hug. It cracks when he speaks. "how can she say that about Steve but still love me? When so much of this shit's been my fault?"
"none of this is your fault. Don't believe that, will. No one blames you or El for any of it. You know that, right?"
"okay..."
"it's true. And as for mom...I don't know." Jonathan huffs "I'm not sure. I'm sorry, buddy."
Joyce turns then, feeling sick. She shouldn't have eavesdropped on her children, but now she had she was going to make things right. Hopefully.
Ensure everyone, including Steve, knew she was safe.
Part 3
#joyce byers#will byers#steve Harrington#jonathan byers#steddie#stranger things#steve and el#is implied its more in the first bit#finda writes stuff#finda's rambles#misunderstanding#implied homophobia#joyce doesn't like steve au#add the part 3/part 2.5 link two days later sorry pals
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