#it hurts me to know this chapter is over but that's life and that's growing up

[dancingtotuyo]

11. up from the dust, inconceivable love

Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Ellie learns the truth. Your family gains a member.

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.

Chapter Warnings: pregnancy related things, angst, hurt & comfort and no comfort?, self worth issues, canon violence, anger, child birth, spoilers for TLOU 2 (we’re entering the timeline that starts to burrow things for part 2 of the game)

Notes: huge thank you to my constants, my rocks @ramblers-lets-get-ramblinand @janaispunk for beta reading and letting me yell and scream and break their hearts.

If you have checked out Before, I would encourage you to do so for more backstory on our dear reader! The final part is out now!

Words: 5352

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“What do you think of Peace?” You ask, propped up in bed, hand over your swollen stomach. You’ve gained more weight this time, probably because you’re not in the throes of grief. 

“I mean, I’m a fan. I hope everyone is.” Joel says, trimming his facial hair with the bathroom door wide open. 

You bite your lip, admiring the expanse of his bare back. If getting out of bed wasn’t an event, you would be behind him right now, kissing his shoulders. 

“No, as a name for a girl,” you say. Joel turns around looking at you like he’s contemplating checking you into a psychiatric ward if those still existed. “A middle name, not a first name.” 

Joel sets his trimmers down, leaning in the doorway shirtless. “And what would her first name be?” 

“Willow.”

Joel furrows his brow stepping into your bedroom, your shared bedroom. “Darlin, I know we live in a commune, but we’re not hippies.”

“You bring me wildflowers and we walk barefoot through the fields. I wouldn’t be so sure.” You can’t help but laugh. Joel cracks a smile. “Do you have suggestions then?”

“Thought about naming Sarah- Katherine.”

You make a face. You know one too many Kates and Katies even in Jackson.

“It’s not a bad name,” Joel chuckles. 

“Neither is Willow.”

“Is this your way of telling me you’re a hippie?”

“Would you leave if I said yes?”

Joel shrugs “I don’t know, but I knocked you up so I guess I have to stay.” He crawls into the bed. His head is level with your stomach as he watches for movement. 

You roll your eyes. “How romantic.”

He grins up at you and then his eyes are back on your belly. He rests a hand at the top, staring, waiting in wonderment. Neither of you can believe this is all real. Your baby moves around all the time, kicking your bladder and lungs, signifying life. A life you did not think would make it. 

You thread your fingers through Joel’s soft brown hair. The outline of a foot appears and then disappears. Joel’s eyes sparkle and he kisses the same spot. He’s soft and gentle. In these moments, all your anxieties are carried away like leaves on an autumn breeze. This is your peace. 

“What other names did you have picked out for Carter?”

You bite your lip. “We didn’t have any other boys' names.”

“And if he’d been a girl?” He’s still enthralled with your stomach as if there’s been an enchantment cast over it. 

“Sarah.”

His head snaps up. 

“Tommy and I talked about her a lot when I was pregnant. She was on my mind… being a part of Sarah’s life made me realize I wanted a family… even in this world where I had no right to do so.”

You keep playing with his hair. His eyes go glassy making you wonder what memory is playing behind his eyes. You stay like that until Joel is ready to talk. Eventually, he sits up, clearing his throat. His lips touch yours. 

“What about Willa?”

You tilt your head to the side. You don’t really see how it’s any different than Willow, but you’re not going to bring that up. “I like it.” 

“And Miles for a boy.” His smile returns. He doesn’t tell you that he’s positive you’re having a girl.

“Miles is an old man's name!”

“Good, then he’ll grow to be an old man.”

You take in a sharp breath. It’s just an offhand comment, but it carries so much weight. It’s a stark reminder of the heaviness of the world, and the twinge of guilt you feel bringing another child into it. 

Joel takes your hand, kissing your palm. You see it in his eyes too. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’tve-”

“It’s okay.” Your fingers comb through his hair. He leans into your touch. His grays are more noticeable than they were a year ago, but the brown still outnumbers them. 

“Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” he asks.

“I don’t know… I- I haven’t really let myself think about it until today.” It's true. The fact of the matter is you’re within a month of your due date. You and Joel are so close to welcoming this baby into the world and are wildly unprepared. 

“We’re getting close… We need a crib.” 

“The one I used for Carter is in the attic.”

“I can bring it down in the morning.”

“I need to get some baby clothes. I traded all of Carter’s.” 

“Looks like we have a bunch of work to do, Mama,” Joel smiles, kissing your forehead. He still hasn't told you about the swaddles and onesies tucked in the back of his drawer, but it seems you’re finally ready for them.

You cock your head to the side, contemplating the nickname. There’s a mix of emotions with it. You’re already a mother. Joel is a father, but this is a life you’re bringing in together. It’s uncharted territory for both of you. Sarah’s mom was out the door before she was six months old. Neither of you have done this part with a partner before. 

A sharp knock on the front door pulls your mind from its wandering. Joel’s brow furrows, rolling out of the bed. People don’t knock on your door often. They usually barrel right in, unless it’s bad. Your stomach drops. 

Joel is out of the bedroom, shrugging on a shirt. Dina’s voice calls through your home. “Hello?” She sounds worried, desperate. 

You swing your legs over the side of the bed. It takes more time to stand these days. If you try too quickly, your head rushes making you feel dizzy. 

“Dina? What’s wrong?” Joel’s at the bottom of the stairs now, but his voice carries. You have to stop at the top of the stairs to catch your breath. 

“Ellie is gone.”

You freeze, grabbing the railing for stability. “What?”

Joel turns around, worry etched in his face. “Where did she go?”

“I don’t know. She mentioned something about the Fireflies and a hospital, but she wouldn’t talk to me.” You make out the flicker of hurt in Dina’s face. Those two tell each other everything, or most things. You’re not sure Ellie has told her about her immunity. You all keep that one pretty close to your chests. 

“Shit,” Joel mumbles. He glances between you at his back and the front door in front of him. You see the push and pull. He needs to go after her. He needs to be here for you. 

His eyes settle on you. Your hand settles on top of your swollen belly. He’s looking for permission. You want to give it, but what if he’s needed here before he gets back. 

“She’s been off lately. I don’t know why. She won’t talk to me.” Dina seems to sense the silent conversation going on. “I can go after her, but-“

“No, I need to go.” Joel swings back toward the teenager, both hands placed on his hips. You try to bite back the panic rising inside you. He’ll be fine. They’ll both be fine. “Do you know when she left?”

“Probably sometime before the sun came up. Shimmer isn’t in the stable.” 

Joel lets out a ragged sigh, hands running over his face. You try to keep the tears away, your hormones making it difficult. 

“Will you let Maria know I’m going after her? I need to pack.” 

Dina nods, her eyes flickering up to you before she’s gone in a flash of dark curls. Joel turns around, hand resting on the banister at the bottom of the stairs. You swallow and walk back into the bedroom. 

It’s silent at first, nothing but the sounds of draws opening and closing and the soft slaps of his leather saddle bags. You sit in silence at the edge of your bed, chewing on your lip as you watch him. Ellie needs him. It echoes on repeat in your brain. 

“I can probably catch her. We’ll be back in two weeks if I don’t.”

You stare down at your ever growing belly. You could easily be pregnant when he returns, but what if you’re not? You’re fairly certain you’ll have this baby sooner rather than later, but Ellie needs him too.

“Why does she want to go back to Salt Lake?”

Joel freezes for a second, like he’s contemplating his answer. It sets an uneasy feeling in your bones. “I don’t know. Maybe she thinks some of the Fireflies are still there? That this whole cure business is still an option?”

You nod, thoughts drifting to her face when you looked at her blood a couple months ago. She looked desperate. You hadn’t seen her like that before. It was almost unnerving, like the need to be needed by humanity had returned tenfold. It made you wonder if you’d been there for her enough these past few months.

“I have to go after her.”

There’s a desperation you don’t quite recognize in Joel’s eyes, sending a thread of dread through your body. Is he leaving something out? Not telling you something? You nod, biting your lip. “I know.”

He lays his hand on your bump, fingers stretching out over it. “We’ve got time.”

You nod. “Hurry back, and be safe, okay?”

Joel kisses your forehead. “Always.”

He rides out thirty minutes later. 

You try to stay busy while they’re gone, cleaning the clinic and the house thrice over as the nesting and anxiety sets in. You ask Tommy to get the crib out of the attic as you prep the corner of your bedroom for the baby, wiping it free from the dust and cobwebs. 

Maria hosts a small get together for you pulling together some semblance of a baby shower, something you hadn’t had with Carter. It's nice, but you feel like they skirt around the questions nagging in their brains. Where did Ellie and Joel go? Will they be back in time? You don’t have answers. You have the same fucking question. Will they be back? 

The braxton hicks kick up, so much so you think you’re in labor ten days after Joel rides out. The fear that courses through your body is so paralyzing that you just lay in bed. Your body tenses with the memory’s of Carter’s labor. It’s not the physical pain of it, but the emotional rollercoaster you went through, alone. You’re not supposed to do this alone this time.  

Then, the contractions stop with no explanation and you fall into a restless sleep. You miss Joel, his warmth and comfort. His unspoken love that fills the room. You’re becoming more comfortable with the idea of it. 

You miss Ellie too, worried about what she’s going through. Providing it’s still vacant, Salt Lake won’t hold any answer for her. What lengths will she go to? How many miles will she travel in search of answers you believe don’t exist? How will she handle reality? 

You see the differences in Carter too. In his mind, Ellie and Joel have always been here. Two weeks without them feels like a lifetime to him, and to you. 

On day twelve, your front door flies open as you come down the stairs. Ellie bursts through looking frantic and frazzled. Her short cropped hair sticks up in certain places. Dirt smudges her forehead. You’re too relieved to see her to worry about her appearance. If anything, it’s expected after two weeks of travel, but your relief is short lived. 

“Did you know?” She yells. The door stays wide open behind her, rage flaming in her eyes. 

“What?” 

“Did you know?”

“Know what?” You step toward her, reaching out, but she backs away like a wild animal.

“He killed them! All of them!” 

“Killed who? Ellie, take a deep breath.”

“Joel! He killed the fireflies! They had a cure!”

Your breath catches. It’s not that Joel has killed people. You know about the years he spent as a raider. You know the cost of surviving in this world, but this isn’t the story you have been told about Salt Lake. When you asked him why she would go back, he lied. He knew. Knew the story hadn’t lined up in Ellie’s mind. 

“So he lied to you too!”

“Ellie!” Joel is stern as his frame fills your doorway. 

She spins around, the week of silence she spent next to him on the road back, wrath bubbling over and focused on him. “Tell her! Tell her, Joel!” She steps toward him. “Tell her what you did!” She shoves against his shoulders. 

“Ellie…” He repeats her name, softer this time. 

“Don’t do that!” She turns back to you, tears streaming down her cheeks. “They were going to make a cure from me, and you stopped them! You slaughtered them!”

“They were going to kill you!”

Your eyes widen, and it makes sense. Why Joel hasn’t talked about it. Why he needed to go after her. Why Ellie feels so useless. She’d been promised the cure. He’d taken that from her with a facade of an excuse.

“You should have let them!” Ellie screams until she pushes past him, rushing out of your house. 

Joel lets out a sigh, defeat evident across his features. You can’t even enjoy their homecoming, their safety, your head spinning too much. 

Joel shuts the door behind him, stepping closer like he’s expecting an embrace, but you step back, a mother’s anger building in your bones. He looks surprised. “Sweetheart…”

“You lied to her.”

“I protected her.” Joel’s eyes narrow. He’s tired and irritable. Neither of you expected a fight to ensue the moment he got home. “And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“You’ve watched her struggle with this for years!” 

“They were going to kill her!”

“Have you listened to anything she’s said?” 

You almost don’t recognize the Joel in front of you. He looks like a shell of the assured, warm man you know. You wonder if this is the version of Joel Tommy used to speak of. The one Joel has told you about during those late night chats when you spilled the depths of yourselves to each other, or you thought you had. The one who floated through his days, barely living. 

“I couldn’t lose her!” 

“Except you did!”

Joel straightens, shoulders setting in denial. “She’s alive! That’s what matters.”

“You’re missing the point!”

“You’re saying I should have let them go ahead with it! Let them cut open her head for a cure you don’t believe is possible!” 

Fire blazes in Joel's eyes. You see it. There’s no rationalizing with him about this. In his eyes, there were no choices to be made. He did the only thing. It doesn’t matter what else he has to sacrifice, she’s alive and that’s all that matters. “That’s not-”

He scoffs, cutting you off. You see the pain and hurt ripple through his body, causing him to step back from you. “Sure sounds like it.”

“Joel!”

“Don’t.” He yanks the front door open. “I can’t be here right now.” 

He disappears across the threshold in the blink of an eye leaving you with a mountain to process and a growing tension across your stomach.

Joel knows he’s in the wrong. He knows he shouldn’t have lied to Ellie, held the truth from you. He’s a grown man, of course he knows what’s right and wrong, but that admittance doesn’t do anything to calm him. He needs to get out. Out of the house. Out of the walls into the open. It doesn’t matter that he just came from two weeks out there. 

He sneaks over the wall with more ease than he should be able. Instantly, he feels the tightening in his chest begin to ease. He paces the outside of the wall like a caged animal, the series of events reeling through his mind. He doesn’t realize how much he’s been pushing it back since they left Salt Lake. Her words, her pleas, over and over. She’d given him every opportunity to tell her the truth and he kept the lie going. 

There was no cure. The words he’d utter to her after they found that couple, one dead the other infected while out on patrol. 

He’d almost told her, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t lose her. Couldn’t risk it.  

His pacing becomes more frantic as he remembers the fear he felt at the thought of losing Ellie, the fear that pushed him into wiping away every firefly that crossed his path. The same fear that put lies in his mouth before he had time to think, that kept him from telling her the truth. He knew this would happen one day, but hadn’t been enough. He’d kept it from everyone, including you. 

Tell me, she had pleaded with him, begged him and he still felt the pull to replace his lie with another. 

She’d had to poke and prod to get the words from his mouth. Had to threaten to leave before she got the truth. That hurt almost as much as the fallout. Everyone thought he was a better man than he actually was. Ellie, you, himself, but when it came down to it. He failed that test. Good men don’t make someone threaten to leave to get the truth. 

I’ll go back, but we’re done.

Joel wears a path in the fresh grass beneath his feet, letting the spring chill take over when the sun sets, leaving him in darkness. Ellie had kept her word. He’d never heard her stay quiet for so long. The loss had begun to settle in with her riding next to him. 

Joel’s muscles ache from two weeks out on the road. He misses you and Carter. He hasn’t even touched you yet. Will you let him? 

Getting over the wall from the outside proves more difficult than it had the first time. Which is a good thing, but had Joel feeling every one of his 59 years. Embarrassment creeps over his cheeks with each step toward your home. The one he shares with you, but he feels like a guest as he climbs the steps. He doesn’t catch a glimpse of you or Carter or anyone else through the windows. 

The house is silent when he enters, no signs of life except for the faint buzzing of light bulbs. His brow furrows. You wouldn’t have left the lights on if you weren’t home. Then a faint sound comes from upstairs, movement at the very least. He follows it, placing his hand on the closed bedroom door before cracking it open. 

Soft groans come from behind the cracked bathroom door followed by a whispered curse. Maria's voice follows. Joel’s throat drops into his stomach. His boots echo off the wood floor as he crosses the room. “Sweetheart?” he calls, staying on his side of the door. “Is everything alright?”

“Joel? Get in here,” you groan out. 

It sends some reassurance through him to hear you so clearly before he swings the door open. His eyes go wide at the sight of you in the tub, sweat staining your skin as Maria kneels next to you. “Shit, are you?”

“Make yourself useful and hold my hand.” 

He nods, kneeling beside you. Maria stands, grabbing a few instruments from the bathroom sink, she gives Joel a look that lets him know you’re near the end of labor. Your baby will be here in minutes. It sends a rush through him. “I’m sorry, Darlin.”

You grab onto his hand tightly. It’s wet from the bathwater sloshing around you as you fight to get comfortable. It’s a useless pursuit, but it doesn’t keep you from trying. “Can we do the apologizing later? I’m kinda busy at the moment.” 

“Yes,” Joel takes a deep breath, his heart pounding in his ears. He squares his shoulders next to you, giving an air of assurance you know he doesn’t have. “I’m here for whatever you need.”

“I think you missed most of it.”

“Not that you’ve had much to miss,” Maria says, stern. She pissed at him, which is more than fair given everything. You’d had some time to explain what happened. “We tried to find you. Her labor progressed pretty quick.”

“Speaking of which-” You let out a gasp, face twisting in pain. “I think the baby is crowning.”

“She must be in a hurry,” Joel says. 

“She?” 

“Just a hunch.” Joel smiles, kissing your head.

For the next few minutes, the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Your fight never happened because there’s only one thing on your minds, bringing your baby into the world. The world goes silent again, but not in a bad way. A way that makes you feel at peace, Joel’s warm hand in yours. It doesn’t take long until she announces her arrival with a fiery scream once Maria pulls her out of the water. 

You hold her close, tears of relief gathering in your eyes. Joel leans in, his forehead pressed to your temple, arms wrapping around you and your daughter as she pulls air into her lungs. 

“You did great, Sweetheart.” He whispers into your hair as he kisses your cheek, cupping your daughter’s head. “She’s beautiful.”

Your eyes flicker between him and your newborn. It’s the moment you’ve been envisioning for months, the one you thought you’d get with Gabe when Carter was born. A little piece of you mends. Your child soothes against your skin. 

After you’re both cleaned up, Joel helps you into bed, then settles beside you. She sleeps in your arms, tiny fist clenched around one of Joel’s fingers still curled up in your softest bath towel. You brush her cheek softly. 

“I believe we decided on Willa Peace?”

“Did we?” You tilt your head to the side, a grin verging on your lips. “I thought we weren’t hippies.”

Joel shrugs, tracing your shoulders. “I had a lot of time to think about it the past couple of weeks.”

“Joel…”

Dirt still traces over his face. He hasn’t had time to clean off since he got back. You catch the faint smell of sweat on his clothes and skin. “I know.”

“I would have done the same thing to save her. You know what I think about cures.” You keep your gaze on your child. It only reminds you what you brought her into. “You lied to her over and over when she needed the truth.”

“I was trying to protect her.”

“I wish you would’ve told me.”

“I know.”

“This only works if we’re open with each other.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.” You bite your lip. “I’m going to need some time with this one.”

Joel nods, arm wrapping around you. “I know.”

You lean into him, enjoying the quietness that surrounds the three of you.

“Willa Peace Miller,” You smile. “Has a nice ring to it.”

“Yeah.” Joel hums beside you. “Can’t believe she’s actually here.” 

“And we’re both okay.”

He nods, and neither of you can tear your eyes away from the precious little being in your arms. You hang on every rise and fall of her chest, everything micro movements, the soft flutter of her eyes that never quite open. It all feels so fragile, so sacred. 

You remember similar moments with Carter. When the grief and the world got too loud, you would lay on the floor or bed with him on your chest asleep. The weight of his small body was a tether that kept you from flying away. 

Even in this moment, as your heart inexplicitly expands, you feel that thread of fear winding itself through your body. Another person to love and protect. Another person to keep from the jaws of the world. Another person you can’t bear to lose. 

“You know,” you say, pulling Joel’s attention. “If you were ever gonna pull those baby clothes and blankets out of your drawer, now would be the time.”

His brow furrows and then eases with realization. “How long have you known they were there?”

You let out a soft chuckle. “I washed them the next time you went out on patrol. I wasn’t going to leave those filthy things in your drawer.”

“You were going through my things, I see.”

“Next time don’t try to hide something in your drawer from the person who washes your clothes.” 

Joel laughs, easing out of the bed to fetch the items from the drawer. “Got it, I’ll be sneakier next time.”

“Can you get the onesie with the yellow flowers?” You bite back a smile. He doesn’t know how you often pulled the drawer open and just gazed upon the items. It helped you visualize it all even when the fear threatened to take over. Another child, and here she was. You’d been most drawn to the little yellow flowers. 

Joel laughs, grabbing the onsie and the swaddle with little yellow flowers to match. You’re gentle with her as you work the small article of clothing over her tiny body. It’s a bit baggy, but you can’t complain. It just means she can wear it for longer. She sleeps through all the jostling as if she’s fully absorbed her middle name. 

She’s settled back into your arms when a soft tap echoes on your door. “Mommy?” Carter’s voice comes through muffled. 

“You can come in.”

The door flies open as your son bursts through the door, grin spread wide on his face. Ellie stands behind him, looking like the space might envelope her.

 “Aunt Maria said I have a baby sister.” 

“You want to meet her?” you ask. 

Carter nods eagerly, dashing toward your bed. Joel catches him before he can jump onto the bed beside you and potentially on you. 

“Daddy!” Carter’s eyes go wide. He hasn’t seen Joel in almost two weeks. 

Joel laughs, arms tightening around the boy. “Hey, bud.”

Your eyes meet Ellie’s. Her eyes are red, bags deep underneath. You motion her next to you. She hesitates before sliding onto the bed beside you. She’s timid, keeping to the edge, eyes flicking over you and Willa. 

“You can get closer.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I never got to hug you earlier.” 

She looks down, eyes scanning over your comforter like she’s reliving her homecoming. Once she’s close enough, your arm slips around her shoulders, tugging her close. She nuzzles into your side like a child seeking comfort. “You’re alright?” she asks.

“Yeah… we both are.” You say, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“But I’m still sorry you’re going through this.”

Ellie seems to sink into your further, eyes pinned to Willa. She doesn’t answer you. She doesn’t look at Joel as he sinks next to you with Carter, but you feel her tense when he does. 

“What’s her name?” Ellie asks. 

“Willa,” you reply. 

“Baby Willa.” Carter grins proudly. 

And the five of you sit there together in silence. You try to push it out of your head that it’s the last time you all might be together for a while. Even now, you feel the underlying anger rolling through Ellie’s body. This is a wound that’s been festering. It’s going to take time to heal. 

Eventually, Ellie slips from your side without a word to leave. She’s barely out the door when Joel goes after her. 

“Ellie,” Joel says, catching her on the front porch.

Her head whips around, expression set in stone. “I’m here for them, not you.” She keeps her voice low to not be overheard by nosy neighbors. “They’re my family. Do you understand?” 

Joel’s apology catches in his throat. He’s been apologizing the whole way back from Salt Lake. He knows there’s nothing he can say to rush this process. He made a decision, and these are his consequences. “Yeah… I got it.”

“Good.” 

She doesn’t give him a chance to say anything else.  

The bed is empty next to you, the sheets cool to the touch. Your eyes blink open. Cool moonlight shines through the window. You glance at the bathroom door. No light shines through the crease. Joel’s name is on your lips, interrupted by his voice. 

“Do you like the butterflies?” 

You turn to your side. Joel sits next to the crib, talking to Willa. She’s awake, moonlight reflecting off her big eyes. She’s content and still. 

“Your big sister liked butterflies. When they come out in the summertime, I feel her around me.”

She stares at Joel, mesmerized by his voice. Your eyes float upward to the mobile Joel made. He hadn’t explained it to you, but you already knew. Sarah had pinned them all throughout their Austin home. You keep one stuck to the window above the kitchen sink. There’s one tucked in his nightstand drawer. 

“I think she sent you to me.” He lets it sit there, contemplating the weight and depth of what he said. “I think she sent you to me, your momma, Ellie, I suppose she’s your big sister too, Carter. All of you.

“Her name was Sarah. She would have loved you.” He chuckles. “She used to ask me for a baby brother or sister. I didn’t know your momma yet… Well, I guess I did, but that’s a whole ‘nother story.”

You stifle a laugh unsuccessfully. Joel’s eyes lock on yours. He smiles, shooting you a wink. He looks younger under the moonlight, more at ease. The creases in his skin are less apparent. 

“Your momma, she’s quite a bit younger than me.” The smile stays pinned to his face. “It’s not so creepy now- least that’s what she tells me- but it would’ve been then, and I was a decent fella back before the world went to shit. Besides, between you and me.” He leans closer to Willa’s ear, but his eyes are still on you. “Your momma had a pretty big crush on me back then.”

You groan, heat flushing your cheeks. It shouldn’t be embarrassing, but it is. You chuck his pillow at him. Joel catches it, laughing. It’s the kind that sits deep in one’s chest and bubbles up with the purest kind of joy. You can’t help but smile. 

He slowly stands, grunting as he does. You hear the familiar pop of his joints. He leans into the crib. You notice Willa’s eyes have fallen shut. “I love you, my little wildflower.” He kisses her cheek before falling back into bed next to you. 

His arm wraps around your waist. Pulling you close, he steals a kiss on your forehead. “I’m getting too old to sit on the floor like that.”

“You’re getting too old to have a newborn, yet here we are.” Your fingers run through his hair. 

“Still can’t believe she’s here… you’re both healthy.”

“Neither can I.” You glance back at the crib. She’s just a few days old and already, you can’t imagine life without her. 

Tears well at the corner of your eyes. Your heart has grown so much. You thought you couldn’t open it to more people, yet here you are. The you of 4 years ago would be too terrified of losing this life to give it a chance, the price of pain too high. Yet here you are, embracing it, taking that risk, because this is living, and the love and belonging far outweigh the potential for pain even as it grows with every passing day. You fell into the trap,and it’s a crowded one, but it’s a happy one. 

Joel kisses your cheek. “You should get some sleep before she wakes up hungry.” 

“Mmm,” you hum as his hands move soothingly over your back. “Someone not named Willa woke me up.”

Joel chuckles. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart.”

But even now you feel your eyelids getting heavier. 

“Did you mean what you said?”

“About?”

You let your eyes fall shut as Joel massages out a knot in your back. You lean into it. “About Sarah sending us to you.”

“I did.” He kisses your forehead. 

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#woman (joel miller) #joel miller #joel miller x reader #tlou #the last of us #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #tlou fanfiction #pedrostories #pedro stories #ppcu fanfiction #em's fics

[phoward89]

Masterlist

Dark!Coryo, Dark!Peacekeeper Coryo, Innocent!Reader, Delulu!Coryo, obsession, manipulation, toxic relationship, cussing, slight smut (clit rubbing), etc

Chapter 6:

Coryo blinked his eyes open as the harsh morning sunlight streamed thru your bedroom window. Unlike his windows back in his family's Capitol penthouse, yours didn't have curtains. He groaned, not wanting to wake up just yet.

Looking down, he smiles as he takes in the sight of you curled into him. Your head’s still resting on his chest, using it as a pillow, while your arms are slung around him; your legs are entwined with his too. To him you look so ethereal, like a beautiful angel, as you slept clinging to him.

The platinum blonde peacekeeper felt like the luckiest man alive with you snug in his arms. Despite the turn that last night took between you (him pushing you a little too hard for your first time) he felt like this was the perfect morning after. Just watching you peacefully sleep in his arms, the early morning sun radiating brightness on your skin, was enough to bring a lopsided smile to his face.

Lazily, he ghosted his long, calloused fingers over your bare back. He traced his fingertips with a barely there touch up and down your spine, just watching you and waiting for you to stir. And eventually, you did stir.

Feeling a featherlight touch on your spine, you shiver and open your eyes. Looking up at Coryo, you groggily smile, “G’morning.”

“Good morning, beautiful.” Coryo smiled, pressing a kiss against your lips.

You've never been given a good morning wakeup kiss before, so naturally you blushed and smiled sillily into the kiss. A kiss which deepened fairly quickly due to Coryo's hunger for you.

And the boy was hungry for you all the time. He had a desire for you, like a starving man has for a meal. You're the water to the platinum peacekeeper's unquenchable thirst. You're the only thing to satisfy the longing in Coryo's dark soul because you're the sunshine to his dark days.

“Coryo, we need to get up.” You sighed, trying to push your boyfriend away from you as he planted kisses up and down your jawline while rubbing your ass with one of his large hands.

Pulling his lips from your jaw and looking at you, he seriously asked, “Can you be quiet?”

“Why?” You counter, hoping he wasn't alluding to sleeping together, again, this morning.

“I'll let you be on top, go your own pace.” Coryo tells you as his hand, that was on your ass, stopped rubbing it and slid between your legs to tease your folds.

“Coryo, it's morning. We should get up.” You protested, breath hitching as his middle finger slid up and down your folds, only to stop and teasingly rub your clit.

“As long as we're quiet we shouldn't get caught. Plus, your brother was drinking an awful lot last night; bet he's still asleep.”

“Rein always drinks, that's nothing new.” You told your boyfriend, causing him to frown.

“So your brother's a drunk?” Coriolanus rhetorically asked. Shaking his head, heavily sighed, “I don't like that, baby. Dunks don't have a good hold on their senses; what if he hurts you when he's 3 sheets to the wind?”

“He won't-” you began, only for him to interrupt you with a firm, “But what if he does, Y/N? There's always a first time when it comes to being drunk.”

Coryo knows first hand how getting drunk can impair and impact your judgment and senses. Hell, he lost his virginity to some random girl in an alleyway behind a club because of a drunken bet with Festus Creed. He was drunk off his ass on posca that night. But it did earn him a bit of a reputation; began his secret life of being a fuckboy too…

But anyways…

“Why don't you let me inquire about a place for us. One in the nice part of the district, close to the barracks?” Coryo suggests with a smile. His hand, that's not between your legs teasing you, gently cups your cheek as he hums out an assuring, “Hmm?”

“I dunno, Coryo.” You shakily said, feeling yourself grow wetter from his fingers teasing your folds.

“How bout if I find a nice place we'll check it out? Hmm, my darling rose?” Coryo suggested, softly stroking your cheekbone with the rough pad of his thumb.

You curiously raised a brow, “But I thought that Peacekeepers can't marry or live with a woman?”

“Privates can't, but I won't be one for long because I'm going to pass my Officer's Exam; I'm going to be able to give you the life that you deserve.” Coriolanus replied with such conviction, that his word had to be solid and true. With a charming smile, he adds, “Plus, for time being, I can head out of our place early and get to base before wakeup call.”

“This is all so sudden, Coryo.” You honestly told him, since you did feel like everything was happening out of the blue. As if you blinked and your entire life just changed.

The platinum blonde in your bed didn't like hearing that. In fact, it wasn't the answer he wanted to hear. It concerned him; made him afraid that you'd push him away. What if last night had anything to do with your thinking? Oh, Coriolanus knew that he had a lot of damage control to do when it came to you.

He couldn't lose you. Not now. So, he had to lay the charm on thick.

Removing his hand from between your thighs and using it to run soothing circles on your lower back, Coryo told you with an unnatural gentleness in his rough baritone, “Baby, are you leery of being serious with me because I got a bit carried away last night? And be honest with me, okay?”

“No.” You shook your head, causing Coriolanus let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

His eyes bore into yours, looking for an explanation to why you're hesitant on him finding the two of you a place. You knew you needed to give him an answer to why you're hesitant about it, but you're not sure if your explanation would make sense to him. So, you worry your lip and try to find the right words to say.

Using his thumb to pull your bottom lip free from your teeth, he lightly scolded, “Don't bite your lip, baby.” Soothingly rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip, Coryo implored, “Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong so I can fix it.”

He was secretly hoping that you're being honest about not being freaked out bout last night's rough fucking. He still thinks he has a lot of charm and damage control to lay on you for that.

“It's just…” You sigh, only to carry on with your explanation of, “One day we’re friends, the next I'm your girl, and now you're talking ‘bout getting our own place.” Shaking your head, you admit the truth of your situation. “It just seems fast, you know, since it's all happening within like a week of meeting.”

And there it is. You're afraid of how this looks. Probably because you're a poor district girl and he's a peacekeeper. Coriolanus isn't dumb, he knows that district citizens hate peacekeepers; look down on relationships between district girls and peacekeepers.

“But we've got love at first sight on our side, darling.” Coryo tells you in the most loving tone he can muster. Bringing his forehead to rest against yours, he swears, “What we have other people would kill for. Love at first sight’s very special and I'll be damned if I let district social rules keep us apart.” His hands lovingly caresses your cheeks as he declares with a twinkle in his baby blues, “I love you and I'm going to take good care of you, Y/N, no matter what.”

That love declaration took you aback. You honestly weren't expecting it, but it did touch your heart. Even if he loves you more than you love him right now (you really like him a lot, but you're still on the fence post about whether or not you love him), you're willing to give him a chance. Coryo loves you so much, after just a few meetings, that he swears to take care of you.

That's not something to take lightly, especially in the hard scrapple district of 12.

A man willing to take care of his girl, no matter who he is or what he does, is a huge declaration of love and devotion. Or at least it is in the poverty outlying districts. And it's a sure sign that the man's a keeper.

So, despite Coryo being a peacekeeper from the Capitol, in your books he's a keeper.

“I love you too, Coryo. And I'll let you take care of me.” You replied with a smile, because you couldn't afford to lose him. Not when everything you've been raised to believe is screaming at you that your boyfriend's a good man; a man that you need in your life.

“So, you agree to me finding us a place then?” Coryo asked, testing you to see if you'd truly let him take care of you or not.

What did you have to lose? You live in a glorified wooden shack with your miner brother that drinks too much and his barmaid girlfriend. You got fired from your job and so far no other shopkeepers are willing to hire you either. Coryo's certain that he'll pass his Officer's Exam, will be sent to a nicer district to train and serve. And since he promised to take care of you always, he'd surely bring you to a nicer district.

Right?

So, although his love seems all consuming and a bit suffocating, it's also redemptive in a way- in a way that'll give you a better life then the hum drum and depressing one you currently have.

So, you nod and tell Coryo, “Yes, you can find us a place.”

“Good to hear, baby.” Coryo grins triumphantly before kissing you.

But before the kiss has a chance to turn heated, Ashlie's voice calls out from the kitchen with, “Y/N, wake up! I need help with breakfast!”

“Damnit, she would be up.” Coriolanus grumbled under his breath. He knew that he couldn't fuck you this morning, not with your sister-in-law up and wanting your help with breakfast. It'd be too risky; you'd be caught for sure.

“I’ll be right there!” You called back before flinging the blanket off and untangling yourself from Coryo.

When you looked down and saw the blood on the sheet paired with the dried crimson on both your thighs and Coryo's cock you froze. Your eyes blinked and you just stared at it. The reality of what happened last night hits you full force like a freight train from 6.

Coryo quickly realizes what's got you zoning out, so he sits up and cups your cheeks- making you look into his crystal clear blue eyes. “Y/N, it's okay. The blood’s normal for a virgin’s first time.” He assured you in a gentle tone. “Don't be scared, everything's fine, darling.”

“Everything's not fine, Coryo. I'm going to get in so much trouble come laundry day…”

“Okay, how bout we hide the sheet in your closet and clean it ourselves? Hmm?”

“We don't have a bath or a shower, Coryo. There's going to be a bloody washcloth as evidence too.”

“Jesus…you don't have a fucking shower?” Coriolanus couldn't believe this. It's worse than he thought. You live in fucking squalor. Oh, he definitely needs to get you out of this shithole.

No future First Lady of his is living like a fucking peasent. Not when he can help it.

Damn, even he had a shower back in the Capitol and his family didn't have a pot to piss in.

“No.” You shook your head.

“Listen to me, darling.” Coryo orders before telling you the details of his sudden plan, “You stay right here and I'll grab a wet cloth from the bathroom, then I'll clean us both up. After we get dressed, you'll go help Ashlie with breakfast and I'll strip the bed- hide the sheets and the washcloth in your closet and put clean sheets on before joining you in the kitchen.”

“Okay.” You nod, causing Coryo to get out of bed and put on his boxers before going to the bathroom to grab a washcloth in order to set your plan in motion.

“Morning, Y/N, did you sleep well?” Ashlie asked as you stepped into the kitchen. Your hair, much to Coryo's urging, was placed over your shoulders to hide the love bite he left on your neck last night. You hope that it's not noticeable to Ashlie, because that'd just be embarrassing to have to explain.

But unknown to you, Ashlie heard everything-

EVERYTHING-

last night because, despite telling you to shut up, Coriolanus wasn't quiet at all. In fact he was loud and the bed banging against the thin wall was loud too.

So Ashlie knows what happened last night, or at least she has a good idea of what happened.

“I'm making oatmeal.” Ashlie told you, stirring a gloopy mixture of bland oats and a few days old goats milk in the cookpot. Gesturing to a steaming tin mug, she said, “I made you some morning tea.”

“But I usually have chicory coffee.” You replied, eying the tea warily since you never had tea in the house. In fact, the only one that drank tea was Ashlie, but it wasn't tea per say but a bunch of bitter dry herbs that she'd have the neighbor girl, Lucy Gray of the Covey, pick for her in the forest.

And, frankly, after what Coryo told you about Lucy Gray you doubt that he'd be pleased about you drinking anything that she picked. He doesn't want you around her, so…

“But with the shape your brother's in, and how he has a shift later tonight at the mines, he needs all the coffee he can get to sober up.” Ashlie said as a way to get you to accept that bitter herb tea she made for you. Oh and how she desperately wanted (no needed) you to drink that tea.

Turning your head, you saw your brother slouched in his sitting chair. He's still wearing his clothes from last night and he's got dried drool on one side of his face. His Seam grey eyes are glassy and bloodshot- a sure sign of a hangover. A tin mug full of chicory coffee is in one of his hands while his other is pressed against his temple in a vain attempt to alleviate his hangover headache.

Turning back to Ashlie, you say, “Yes, I suppose he does need the coffee.”, while reaching for your mug of tea.

Ashlie decides that now's the time to confront you about last night, while Coriolanus is still in your room. So, she grabs your wrist and pulls you close to her, all the while stirring the cookpot, and whispers into your ear, “You know what that peacekeeper did to you last night wasn't right.”

Before you could even bring the mug up to your lips, you go into shock at the brunette's words. Why would she say that to you? Oh my goodness, did she hear something last night?

Confirming your inner thoughts, Ashlie softly said, “The walls are thin; I heard everything he said and did to you, sweetheart.” Giving you a pitiful look, she added in, “You don't have to put up with that. You're a sweet girl and you deserve better than some peacekeeper that views you as an easy piece of ass he can do anything with.”

Her words hurt you, but they also made you mad. How dare she assume that Coryo was taking advantage of you last night. You agreed to fuck him. Yes, he pushed a bit hard towards the end, but you agreed to be with him.

Slamming down the tea mug, causing some of the hot liquid to slosh over the rim, you snapped, “What happened last night between me and Coryo is none of your business. I agreed to fuck him; he didn't make me do anything.” Snatching your wrist out of her grip, you turned on the kitchen sink and ran your hand under the tap, to cool the sting of the hot tea that split onto the hand holding the mug. “He pushed me a bit hard for my first time, but we talked about it, like a couple does, and everything's fine.”

“Y/N, he's not a good man. The things I heard him say last night…good men don't say those things to their girlfriends.” Ashlie told you, quiet enough so that your brother couldn't hear her, in a vain attempt to get you to see how much of a selfish lover Coryo was. Or at least that's how she viewed him.

You on the other hand viewed Coryo as a good boyfriend, as somebody that loved you a lot and quickly. To you he was very devoted.

You didn't know that his love and devotion was actually a sick obsession that was also possessive, but you don't need to worry about that small, minor detail.

To-may-to, to-mah-to, right?

“Why don't you worry about my drunk brother and keep your nose out of my relationship.” You harshly hissed at Ashlie, sounding so unlike yourself, right as Coryo entered the kitchen.

Looking between your hand under the running tap and Ashlie, who he didn't like solely because she was giving him a dirty look, he asked, “Is everything alright in here, babygirl?”

“I accidentally spilled some hot tea on my hand when I set my mug down.” You told Coryo while turning off the tap and patting your hand dry with a hand towel.

Coryo knew that wasn't the only thing that occured in the kitchen, but he needed to get you out of the house to ask what you and that ratty whore from the Hobb talked about while he was cleaning up your bed.

Walking up to you, he placed a gentle hand on your back and ordered in a suggestive tone, “Darling, let's go to the Mellark Bakery.”

“The bakery? But I'm making breakfast!” Ashlie exclaimed in an exasperated protest.

A cruel smirk appeared on the platinum peacekeeper’s angular face as he told her, “I promised my baby that I'd take her to the bakery today and I'm a man of my word.” Turning to you with a look of love and adoration, Coryo simply said, “Come along, Y/N.”, while leading you out of the kitchen.

Ashlie was appalled with the way Coryo was treating you. She was also appalled that you're just letting him do it too.

“Where ya goin’?” Rein asked, his voice scratchy and heavy with last night's booze, as you and Coryo walked by his sitting chair.

“Coryo's taking me to the Mellark Bakery for breakfast.” You answered your brother while Ashlie stared at the scene.

Oh how Ashlie was so pissed at Rein. If only your brother wasn't hungover right now. If he was sober he'd stop Private Snow from taking you out of the house.

“Just don't break any bread over the hearth; I ain't having that in my family.” Your brother seriously told you, pointing his coffee cup at your boyfriend. Truthfully, the thought of you marrying a peacekeeper terrified your brother whether he was sober, drunk, or hungover.

You're too much like your mother for your own good. Rein can't handle it. It's deja vu. Like history repeating itself all over again and he'll be damned if he sits back and watches you pick a peacekeeper over your own kind, the citizens of District 12.

“We won't.” You promised before walking out the door with Coryo.

As soon as you're on the front porch, Coryo asks, “What'd he mean by breaking bread over the hearth?”

“It's how people in 12 get married. It's called a toasting; you share a loaf of bread over a fire you stoke.”

“That's an odd way of getting married.” Coryo remarked as you walked down the porch steps.

Honestly, he viewed it to be a bit primal and uncivilized. In the Capitol couples have large ceremonies (modest if they're middle class or low class), exchange vows, and have a lovely reception only to follow it up with a honeymoon. The thought of being declared married due to breaking bread in front of a hearth was baffling. It proves to Coriolanus that the Districts are below the Capitol.

Well, thankfully he'll be dragging you back to the Capitol for a proper wedding ceremony. It'd be a cold day in hell before he had a toasting.

“Yea, but it's how things are done around here.” You tell him, linking arms with him and starting down the street.

Coryo just nods, accepting your remark. He has other matters to get to the bottom of this morning; debating the classless way 12 holds a marriage ceremony isn't that important. Not compared to what he needs to get aired out.

“What did I really walk into when I entered the kitchen? And don't tell me it was just you running tap water over your hand.”

Great, he would pick up that something was wrong. You didn't want to tell him, since you found it to be embarrassing, but you also had a feeling that he wouldn't like it very much if you lied to him.

So, despite being embarrassed, you told him the truth. “Ashlie overheard us last night; she decided to talk to me about it.”

“Jesus…” Coryo trails off in disbelief. You're 18, the time for that talk has come and gone in his opinion. Hell, he knows for a fact that girls in the districts are marrying and popping out babies pretty young in the Districts- like 15, 16 young. “She was giving you a sex talk? Damn, that's embarrassing.” Your boyfriend chuckles, hoping to lighten up the awkward subject.

“No,” You shook your head, “she was giving me a he’s not good enough for you and you shouldn't have fucked him talk.”

“Fucking ratty whore…” Coriolanus lowly muttered under his breath, jaw clenched tightly in anger.

How dare that dumb district whore say such things to you? Trying to turn you against him when he's the best goddamn thing to happen to you.

Coryo took his free hand and patted your arm the was linked with his, all the while assuring you, “Don't pay Ashlie any mind, she doesn't understand what we have and what we feel for each other.” Leaning his head down to press a comforting kiss to your temple, he told you, “I love you, baby, and I'm always going to love you. Don't let some bitter barmaid whose biological clock's ticking tell you otherwise.”

Before you could say anything to Coryo, you heard a commotion and turned your head in the direction the ruckus was coming from only to see a pair of on duty Peacekeepers dragging Arlo Chance out of the house he shared with Lil and Spruce. And talk about Lil, she was screaming hysterically while chasing after them, screaming and crying: “He didn't do nothing! Let him go, he didn't do nothing!”

Coryo looks between you and the scene unfolding at your neighbor's shack. “Do you know them?” He asks, hoping that you didn't. You knowing criminals is worse than you knowing the Covey in his books. Uh, maybe they're neck and neck. Who knows…

“The man being dragged away’s Arlo Chance, he works in the mines with my brother; he's around his age too, and the girl's Lil. She's Arlo's girlfriend; they live with her brother.”

“Are you friends with Lil?” Your platinum peacekeeper, casually dressed in an oversized white tee and his issued denim pants, asked. He put a light, curious tone in his question, even tho he was hoping that you're not friends with a girl who's man is a criminal.

And in Coriolanus' eyes Arlo Chance is a criminal because his fellow peacekeepers wouldn't just cart him away if he didn't do anything. He knew that the seasoned squads were on a manhunt for whoever blew up a mine earlier in the week. Now he has a hunch about who the culprit was in that.

“I'm friends with Lil, but she's a bit closer to Ashlie since their men are miners.” You admit to Coryo.

“Oh, I see.” Coryo nods studiously while dragging you swiftly down the street. “Well, I advise you not to be so friendly with her anymore since that man of hers is under arrest for the mine bombing that happened the other day.”

“What?! Arlo blew up the mine!?” You shrieked, eyes wide with shock.

Coriolanus internally groaned at your reaction. He wanted to tell you to shut up, but he didn't want to risk you getting upset. Not after last night. He needs to give you some time to get comfortable with him and his overbearing affections before he can scold you.

“Yes, darling, that's my understanding, so I advise you to stay away from Lil unless you want to be labeled a rebel.” Was the order, disguised as a suggestion, that your boyfriend gave you: his baritone curt and cold as ice.

“But Lil lives a few houses away; she comes over to visit often.”

“Then I suppose this is the reason you need to let me find us a place.” Coryo firmly said, a dead serious look shining in his crystal blue eyes.

Coriolanus kept a keen eye open for any for rent signs in apartment windows while walking to the Mellark Bakery with you. The sooner he got you out of that hellhole you called home the better. Honestly, he needed you alone in your own apartment so that he could condition you; turn you into the perfect Capitolite wife. Despite you being District, you're the kindest, warmest, purest soul he's ever met and he's sure that with the right etiquette training and rhetoric lessons that he'll be able to make you acceptable to proper society- because he can't have people turning their nose up at your District origins.

And if they do, well, he'd probably kill them for daring to speak a word against you.

Yea…

He's got it bad for you.

And of course, the townsfolk stared at you while you walked with your boyfriend. Tongues waggled too. All kinds of things were whispered about you and the platinum peacekeeper, but one thing kept coming up between a few folks of a certain age.

Your mother and your father; how the apple don't fall far from the tree.

“Here we are, darling.” Coryo announced with a smile, his pearly whites shining brighter than his T-shirt, as you approached the bakery. “Now, remember, you can order anything you want, baby.” Your boyfriend smiled while opening up the door to the shop and subtly pushing you inside of the brick building

You could see racks of bread cooling as soon as you entered the bakery. And when your eyes landed on the displays of various pastries, your mouth began to water. The delicious smell wafting throughout the bakery also had your senses on overdrive. You've never been in the Mellark Bakery before, never having enough money to do so, so you're in awe of all the baked goods in the store.

Coryo has his hand on the small of your back while guiding you over to the display case full of various baked goods. “Let's see what they got, shall we, baby?” He suggested with his large, Cheshire cat like grin.

“Okay.” You nod, smiling excitedly. You still can't believe that you're in the bakery; can order anything you want too.

The baker's wife is behind the counter, eying you and Coryo up uneasily. She's used to peacekeepers coming in, but she doesn't like those from the Seam. And, well, to have a handsome peacekeeper with a Seam girl- nothing but a poor wretch of a girl- eying up her display case and sweetly discussing the various pastires disgusted her.

Mrs. Mellark didn't want to service you, because of your Seam residency, but she has no choice but to smile and politely ask how she could help because you're with Coryo, an off duty peacekeeper. It killed the merchant deep inside her soul to do that too.

Coryo ordered you both a chocolate croissant and black coffee with sugar. Mrs. Mellark quickly made up your order and gave it to him. She gave Coryo a discount, like she did all peacekeepers (as a sort of bribe to keep them coming back for more baked goods on their days off) and thanked him with a big, but fake smile as he dismissively told her to keep the change (it was only a few measley pennies anyways).

Coryo and you ended up sitting on a bench in the town square, eating your pastries and drinking your coffee while talking about the tiniest things.

“Are you enjoying your pain au chocolat, baby?” Coryo asked with a genuine smile from ear to ear while watching you scarl down your pastry.

“Yes.” You reply before taking another bite. “Is that what chocolate filled croissants are called in the. Capitol? Pain au chocolate?” You ask, wondering about the term he used to inquire about your like of the sweet pastry.

“Yes.” Coryo nodded, sipping on his coffee. “And in the Capitol our coffee would be called sweetened black instead of black with sugar.”

“The Capitol has pleasant sounding names for things, doesn't it.” You stated although it sounds more like a question.

“It does.” Coryo agreed with manic smile. “Perhaps we'll be able to go back there on day.” He proposed before taking a precise and gentlemanly bite out of his croissant.

You knew his remark was just wishful thinking since Coryo was from the Capitol. You knew, as much as he did, that he'd never return to the Capitol; that he'll never take you there either. But it's nice to have hopes and dreams; you can't fault him for that.

So, being too kind for your own good, you give your boyfriend a smile and say, “Perhaps we will, Coryo.”

But only if you knew that Coriolanus Snow took your words very seriously and to heart. That by telling him that you just signed up for a one way ticket to the Capitol whether you liked it or not. Coryo’s taking you back with him when he's able to return; he's also making you Mrs. Snow and his First Lady. He's going to be making you the mother of his children (who, of course, will be heirs to one of the mightiest families in all of Capitol society) and he knows deep in his bones that you'll be a picture perfect mom- nurturing, gentle, soft. And since you'll be a picture perfect mom you'll also be a picture perfect wife.

If only you knew that Coriolanus Snow's a cunning, devious snake of a man that'll do anything to get what he wants. And what he wants is a life in the Capitol as filthy rich politician- no as President of Panem- with you by his side til you're old and grey; parted by nothing but death.

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[dawnoftime22]

all the things I shouldn't.

| W.M -> N.R

Undeserving of a Love Like Yours, Chapter 9

Chapter Warnings: sleeping problems, this chapter somehow contains going to sleep three times in detail and R raving over sea animals (aka me writing and raving about sea animals) half not proofread

Summary: After dealing with the appearance of a memory you once thought had been long gone once ago, you get a message from the redhead, asking to go out once more.

Series Summary: When you're stuck in a complete hole of confusion and hurt with the one you thought you loved most, a certain redhead finds her way into your life.

Word Count: 6.3k

Category: Fluff! (teensy hurt/comfort)

A/N: I feel like I'm making these way too long? but the chapter would feel like it has holes without it having the small little details so :') just tuck yourself in cozily and enjoy<3

Series Playlist

| Started on 13/04/2024, 1:39 PM |

| Finished on 29/04/2024, 12:26 AM |

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | N.R Masterlist

<- Chapter 8

"take the risk. who knows what lies ahead of your path?"

|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

-- a week later...

The bedroom was bright from the open windows, air flowing in naturally through the space. It was quiet, other than from the distant gentle snoring of Kate sleeping in the living room, your door being mindlessly open.

You were not in bed, but reorganizing your closet, having gotten home from the mall with Kate and some new clothes. The gentle fabric of each shirt brushed against your skin with your touch.

There were music playing in your ears, making you nod your head slightly to the beat and hum, making sure not to sing too loud or something so you wouldn't wake up the sleeping archer.

You were about to finish up, but a box in the corner of your vision catches your eye. Just above all the clothes.

It had been sitting there for days, yet you somehow hadn't noticed until now. It was brought with you when you arrived, but you didn't put much thought to it, thinking it was just your old belongings.

Upon closer inspection with a step forward, you knew it wasn't the box you were supposed to grab. You push open the closet door further, then push yourself on your tip-toes to reach it. With the pull of your fingers, it soon goes into your hold.

The top was slightly dusty, so you brush it off with your hand, about to open it, but then taking a pause to sneeze. Your face contorts into a slight grimace as your eyes trail up, tilting your head so you can peek to see if Kate woke up.

The only movement visible was Lucky shifting slightly in his own sleep, while Kate had her arm hanging off the side of the couch, Lucky's fur just tickling her hand. She was still asleep.

With a soft sigh of relief, you look back down on the box. There was nothing written down on it anywhere, so it only made your curiosity grow.

You walk to your bed, opting to place it on there. It made sounds of clunking and was just a teensy bit heavy. When your fingertips gently grasp the lid, you hesitate, but go in for the dive anyway.

Once it was opened, your eyes widen slightly, and it confirmed your suspicions of it not being yours. Or...half yours. Inside, held stacks of custom CDs, writing, and paper on the cases and within them. Some, not even having anything but a case.

Your heart raced as you read some of the writing, but you try your best to ignore it. Beside all the CDs sat an old portable player, one that was yours. Technically you didn't get the wrong box, but you were supposed to only grab the cd player.

A flicker of your eyes makes you stare at the discs once more. It was nearly getting to your nerves with how much she was following you around. But...something about it only wanted you to linger.

You shouldn't play one.

Yet, you couldn't help but grab one of the cases and open it. The writing was on the disc for this one. Blue marker on the front with a smiley face. It wrote, 'Roadtrips!' and your initial with Wanda. The disc had rainbow rays, reflecting back light from whichever way you angled it.

The lid of the player opens with a bit of fiddling, and you insert the CD. With the earphones plugged in and placed in your ear, you click play.

...Nothing.

You check the player, flipping it and clicking play again.

Ah, the batteries. Too bad, you should just turn around now by putting it back and never touch the box again. Yes? No, instead your eyes catch exactly two batteries, hiding between the cds and the wall of the box.

The world was tempting and teasing you, its almost making you crazy. Your hand reaches in and grabbed them to then place them into the battery compartment.

A breath goes out from your lips, your fingertip atop the button before you press on it. The white noise and the sound of the disc moving quietly sounded out.

As the starting melody played, it was like a knife first poked at your chest, then utterly, slowly, goes in to stab your heart.

This one, you would sing at the top of your lungs with her while you were in the car, going anywhere in the world. Just you, and her, and nothing else mattered. God, you missed those moments.

Your fingertips traced the others, moving them with a few noises as it hit against one another. The others, baking...dancing, some albums...and just playlists of songs you both loved, mixed together. What were you doing?

Quickly, you pull out your earphones, making it fall down to the bed. The music was now distant, quiet. But realizing you could still even hear it, you pause it.

A breath you didn't even know you were holding left your lungs. You shouldn't have done that. When you heard some sounds from the living room, you try to be fast with putting everything back in the box except for the player.

But the movement was only Lucky, your eyes watching him pad off to his bowls in the view of the doorway.

Your eyes falter of any panic and your shoulders relax as you went to store the box of memories back in the closet.

A few steps took you to your door, leaning yourself against the frame to peek and see if Kate was still sleeping. She was indeed. You supposed she had gotten tired, either from laughing, joking and simply having fun, or she was exhausted from doing her archery practices and going out with you.

Nonetheless, you check the time, having noticed the windows showing the sky going into a gradient, and the clouds evaporating.

It was 7:15 PM. You nibbled on your lip as you thought it over. You'll deal with everything else later. The task of organizing of your closet was finished anyway.

You close the bedroom door with a gentle shut, turning back around to face your room and go fall into the comfort of your bed.

As time went by, a yawn from you passes with it, and you switched your position all you could, picking up a book, or even tried to focus on your phone, but then you give up on everything and just decided to simply lay against the soft mattress.

Soon enough, your eyes grow heavy, and your vision grew darker. The daylight was also starting to fade away, and it added further to the luring sleepiness. Your fingers curled up and you closed your eyes, slowly falling into deep sleep.

As you were unaware, the sleep that was expected to be a few minutes of a nap, turns to hours, and you didn't even get to see the moon for the day.

Sometime later, you open your eyes in a half-awake state, noticing it was still daytime. Well, to you. It was actually now morning rather than afternoon as you checked your phone. A sigh leaves you.

Your eyes linger on your closed bedroom door. You only curled up further. You don't want to get up yet.

No one had texted, called, or gone in your room, so what's the point? Your tired eyes close once more as your breathing stayed soft, slowly going back to sleep while the house was quiet.

The hand of the clock moves slowly, yet the hours went like nothing as your mind rested.

"Y/N. Hey, you have to wake up." A gentle voice said next to you as you felt a shake on your shoulder. You groan, getting your peaceful time disturbed.

Kate watched as your splayed out arms moved as you shifted yourself to see her for a split second, your eyes barely open.

"What time is it...?" You murmured, the words barely even making sense to Kate, but to you it did.

"What?" She asked softly, confusion obvious in her voice while you yawned, turning to rest your cheek on the bed. She notices the sleepiness in your eyes when your face appears in her view.

"What time...is it?" You repeated slowly, trying to be clearer and raise your volume just a tad more. Your eyelids fell back to a close, too. Kate raises her eyebrows, crossing her arms as her concern grows.

"Its eleven. Come on, wake up, shower." She gestured with her hands, but you couldn't even see her. You made a sound that only convinced Kate it was going to take her more than that to get you to wake up or even get out of bed.

When she waited for a few seconds and you didn't answer or move, she offers with something that could hold more interest. "I'll make some waffles for you. You want some?"

Still, quietness came from you. You've gone back to sleep.

Gently, Kate reaches out and places her hand on your shoulder once more. "Hey." She swipes her thumb in a gentle motion, not wanting you to get mad at her for bothering you or something.

She then sighed softly.

Kate's eyes roam around the room, trying to see what could have possibly made you like this, but found nothing. Maybe you really were just tired. But the afternoon time staring back at her on your clock told her the chance of it being the latter, was starting to go down.

"If you don't get up, you're gonna lose the chance to have some tasty waffles." She says melodically as she leaned one hand on your bed. Her constant talking and gentle movements had you rousing from your sleep, and with the smallest step forward of getting you up, her concerns went lighter, but it was still there.

"...Did you get more messages?" She asked, her tone more serious now. You had a feeling if you didn't answer this time, she might just drag you all the way to the kitchen.

Kate knew about the countless messages from the brunette you once knew. The many times she's said to just block the contact were millions, but you didn't have it in you to lose the connection completely.

You roll over to lay on your back, your arms above your head as you blinked slowly, taking in a breath to come up with a reply. She waited patiently, although her eyebrows were furrowed.

"No, it's..." You trail off quietly with a sigh, your voice groggy from the morning. Kate pauses her thumb's movemensts on your shoulder, and you look at her more properly.

"I don't wanna get up." You go for a half lie. Kate thinks it over. Technically, if she needed to, she could bring a plate to you as you sat in bed, but that would only encourage you to stay in bed further on.

She also didn't want to force anything out of you, so she treaded carefully, but it didn't stop her from her determination to at least pull you out of this thing you entrapped yourself in. Even if its only been a few hours.

"Well, you're gonna have to. Unless you want me to carry you to sit at the dining table." She said plainly, but you didn't budge. The thought to even move slightly felt like a work on your energy.

Kate then slowly took steps backwards, getting farther away from you, and instead closer to the door. "Okay, I'm gonna have waffles without you! The sweet, soft, and crunchy ones that basically melt in your mouth!" She said, slowly turning around.

You shouldn't stay in bed.

And you decided you wouldn't.

"No, wait!" Your voice finally comes out slightly higher in volume than the barely audible one, but with a soft tone.

Kate turns around and raises an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. You, on the other hand, pouted.

"...Don't finish without me." You whispered now, and Kate just about heard it, but it still had her smile widening. Her eyes watch you deflate on the bed before you push yourself up with your hands and slowly getting out of bed.

She walks to the kitchen with you following behind her, your fatigue visible within your movements. You hear Lucky's collar clinking gently that came with the brush of his body spinning around your legs.

Kate already had the meals ready, her hands only holding the drinks to place on the dining table. Your hand met Lucky's head for a moment before you join Kate at the table, looking to see what she had.

The plates held waffles with some fruits on the side. At the mere sight, your stomach was already grumbling.

You took your seat, getting comfortable. The plastic chair didn't help much with the ache in your body from sleeping in bed for too long, but the atmosphere of how the sunlight was gently going through the windows while the birds outside made shadows put up a peaceful feeling.

"Here," she hands you a fork, and you took it, about to dig in your meal, but your eyes brightened when you realize she had gotten another fork than only keeping a single one at her apartment, your head turning to look at her.

"Yeah, I got another fork, all your problems are solved now, I know." She said playfully, lightly nudging your shoulder. You giggle, starting on your waffle.

The breakfast-- Or brunch, as it was afternoon, goes smoothly with comforting quietness. You were finishing the last bite of your toast as you had your cheek rested on your other hand, your elbow on the table.

Kate turns off her phone, setting it aside to put her focus on you. She leaned closer to the dining table, looking at you closely.

"Are you sure you've been okay?" She asked gently, scraping the last of her waffle and putting it in her mouth, pulling you out of your spaced out state.

You nod, taking in a breath before responding. "Yeah, it's just a lot on my mind." The words came out like a breath, your eyes fixed on the table as you think it over.

"Well, it won't hurt to share. Come on." She folds her arms, pushing her empty plate forward gently as she waited for you to continue.

The crows ledged on another building within the view of the window cawed, and you stared at it, trying to come up with words while you did so.

"I...met someone," you said quietly, your eyes slowly meeting hers. You decided to give her the more positive news first, not wanting to mention the CDs you found just yet. Kate raises an eyebrow, curious as to it being someone new, or someone the two of you knew.

"Who?" She asked, eager due to your face lightly coming with a reddish tint. If she didn't focus much on your face for the sake of the conversation, she would've thought it was the sunlight.

"She was the person I bumped into when I was on a walk with Lucky...and at the airport," you said slowly and quietly, analyzing the look on Kate's face to then flick your gaze away. She stayed silent as she listened on to you, her mind searching for anything especially significant.

"Her name is Nat. She's...nice..." You shrugged, trying to play it cool as Kate slowly smiled. If you didn't look away, you might've thought to have to comment she looked like the cheshire cat from alice in the wonderland.

Not wanting to share much more with her, knowing she might get too excited, you only said, "And she's cool." You then purse your lips, your eyes going down to your plate.

"Cool? Just cool?" A smug grin replaced the smile growing on her face, but she didn't push further, already satisfied that you were still somewhat open to other people.

"Well, if that's all you're going to say, okay, but I need to know more later." She tilted her head, playing around with her fork and pushing the bit of syrup on her plate.

You nibble on your lips, thinking if you should give her the information you found out earlier, but you also wouldn't want to see it every times you opened the closet.

"I also found a box from Wanda's house I accidentally brought," you started, nearly not wanting to say it as Kate's eyes flickered to you, her form perking up slightly to sit properly. Your eyes flashed a moment of pain at the mention of her name, but it faded away.

"A box?" Her face scrunches up in confusion, trying to remember the day she helped you grab your things out from the car. There was a single box she remembered picking up, but she was unsure if it was the one you were talking about.

She inhales gently, and when you didn't continue, she asked. "What'd it have?" Her face held concern, preparing herself for whatever could be coming next.

"CDs. They're custom...I don't know what to do with them." You let out a gently, and quiet sigh. That mostly explains why you've been in bed for so long. Kate placed her fork back down, looking at you.

"Well, if you don't want them, we can sell them." She suggested with a gesture of her hand, trying to help you get rid of them.

"Or, if they have good songs, give some to me." She said plainly with a shrug, a small smile on her face. You laugh softly, and she thanked everything that you were at least somewhat fine...for now.

"Yeah, it's a good idea. And...I don't know about you holding my ex's old CDs." You narrowed your eyes, to which Kate's eyes widens.

"I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to!" She shook her head and moved her hands back and forth, adding to her expression, and you only giggled.

"I'm kidding, you can have some, but just don't play it in front of me." Kate's face and posture relaxes, and a smile wasbon your face as you pushed your chair back and grabbed your plate, going to the kitchen to place it in the sink.

She followed behind you, doing the dishes with you. The rest of the day went by peacefully, laughs shared as the two of you taught Lucky some new tricks.

You've also put up the CDs in a store somewhere with Kate's help, some of them lended to her when she found some of her favorites.

Then days, weeks, turn into months later, filled with small teary nights, movie nights with ice cream, meetups with...the redhead here and there, and your world slowly brightening.

As of late, your mind couldn't help but drift back to the redhead, the memories shared with her that was somehow growing rather than stopping at all.

In a cafe, the two of you sat, enjoying each other's company as the smell of coffee and baked sweets filled the air. You can see her glancing over every now and then, taking in the sight of your profile.

Oftentimes you would end up accidentally looking into her eyes a little too long within the car, and the both of you catch it, but you never took it too far than that, or even perceived it as actual feelings.

At the beach, a lake. She had the same color of eyes as her, her eyes luminescent from the glowing sun. But hers...hers are different. They hold a greener look with a tinge more brown at the iris, and oh, so soft.

The night was quiet other than the tapping of the water somewhere in the bathroom and the humming of the AC. You didn't feel a sense of sleepiness. Really, you just wanted to stare at the darkness.

The comforter around you kept you warm, and the position you were in was as comfortable as you could get. You tried putting your hand out to the edge of the bed, letting it rest hung over the side...you probably shouldn't do that.

As you realize you were too close to the edge, you exhaled slowly and pulled your hand closer to your body once more, moving yourself to the middle of the bed.

Your eyes stare at your phone, the screen facing down.

You shouldn't.

But you picked it up anyway.

Your fingers found the messages to Nat, your eyes seeing the old messages as you searched your thoughts for some words.

Are you still up?

You sent the message with a bite on your lower lip, leaving a mark. Thinking you shouldn't have sent a message so late in the night, you gripped your phone tighter and decide to leave it on the bedside table, nearly regretting disturbing her.

But then your phone lights up on the nightstand beside you, and your eyes widen in surprise, quickly going to grab it.

Yeah. Why?

I can't sleep, and I'm bored :(

Well, I have good news for you.

good news?

Are you free tomorrow?

I think so

Do you wanna go to an aquarium with me? :)

Your eyes blinked at the screen for a moment, trying to make sense if your sleepiness invaded your brain and you imagined it or if it was actually real.

Then, after a few seconds of registering it and deciding, you quickly type your response, a smile on your face.

YES?!?

Now, go to sleep.

okay, okay

you too.

Now, you almost couldn't sleep at all, your last drops of energy fueled by the excitement for tomorrow.

But it soon dies down, and with no warning as you close your eyes once more, you fell asleep easily. The room was quiet, and if you were still conscious, you'd notice it would only be white noise and your gentle breathing.

You slept peacefully, Kate doing the same in the other room with Lucky. The room grew in coldness with the night, causing you to curl within your sleep. Slowly, the moon fades away and the sun starts to rise.

The stir of your body and waking up was fatigued and hazy, a big yawn coming from you as you rolled on your back. You stared at the ceiling for a moment before your eyes widen with a realization dawning on you, the memory of last night reminding you of the aquarium.

You jump slightly to a sitting position, and then regret it at the fast pace, making you dizzy. You absolutely did not let the blood in your brain flow back naturally.

After gently shaking off the daze and letting it fade away with a couple of blinks, you sit for a few seconds before now slowly moving to get out of bed.

You followed your morning routine, showering and everything, but this time with excitement filled in your veins. You forgot you even struggled to sleep last night. Some messages were exchanged with the redhead for the plan of how you'll get to the aquarium, and you agreed on her picking you up.

Kate was already out the house, having told you the day before that she was visiting a friend and possibly even doing a sleepover. She did invite you, but you weren't interested.

As you start to put on your shoes, your phone dings, and your hand goes to grab it, turning it over so the screen was visible. The notification shows a message from Nat.

Hey, I'm in front of the apartment.

Your eyes widen and you finish up quickly, standing up to open the door. The light outside hits you, making your eyes squint, but it spots the black car pulled up near the side of the road when you went out the apartment.

You wave at her, and the corner of her lip raises up as she rolls the window down, sliding her sunglasses down to look at you more clearer.

"You ready to go?" She nodded towards you and you mirror her movement, being more than ready to go to the aquarium.

Nat's eyes look over your appearance for a moment. She was about to close the window but then remembered to ask, "And you got everything?" Her head turned to look at you more.

"Yup." You nodded once more as you went to round the car from the front and sit in the passenger seat. She had closed the window back up now, glancing at you to make sure you had your seatbelt on.

"Seatbelt," she murmured, putting the car in drive. You smiled and grabbed the seatbelt, clicking it in for your safety.

Her eyes focus back on the road once she saw you safe and comfortable in the seat, her hands firmly on the steering wheel as she made her way through traffic and turns on the road to get to the destination.

The drive was quiet, filled with gentle music. You can see the sunlight casting the warmest glow over everything in the car, including her striking orange hair that honestly only seemed soft now.

When you arrived, she opened the door for you right as your fingertips barely even brushed against the car door handle.

Getting in was easy, the line not being awfully long seeing as it's not their busiest day of the week. They gave free packets of yogurts to each ticket holder, but you already had yours open, while Nat was saving it for later.

Her hand held a camera, and you noticed it in the corner of your vision, your lips tugging up as you realize she was reviving the old hobby she had. She took pictures and videos of the sea animals, while also sneaking in some memories of you.

You start walking through the big spaces. In the corner of the room, held a big map of the entire aquarium, from sea animals that live in the colder regions, a shark zone, the exotic section, and the small fishes.

There was an ongoing show of the otters, the staff member in the enclosure feeding them fishes and having them do tricks as they excitedly move to snatch their food or swim in the water.

They talk about facts of the otters through the segment, making many other kids and people in the room beside the two of you captured in the moment.

After that was done, you were headed to the more colder region first, seals sitting on the right side while on the left held bunches of adorable penguins.

Nat smiled gently at you, her eyes all focused on your beaming face instead of the penguins.

"Nat, look!" You gently shook her shoulders, making her turn her attention to the penguins more properly, her eyes watching as they jumped and swam, while others waddled.

"Yeah, they're adorable." Just like you. That's what she wanted to say. Just like you, the penguins were adorable. But she only chuckled softly as you gently leaned into her from the side.

The footsteps and sounds of talking echoed through each hall and room with the gentle sound of some water going down a made up waterfall.

You gasped as you saw the sharks, swimming around gracefully. They were swift with their tails moving back and forth gently.

Black tip reef sharks, nurse sharks, lemon sharks...it held most of the more known ones, but nonetheless, you were more than happy to see them.

Nat kept you close, maybe even a little protectively as you both looked through the shark zone, watching as some of them circle around in their tanks until you make it to the end of the area.

"Whoa..." You slowly walked over to the stingrays, where you can watch them from above. At least, the small baby stingrays. The bigger ones were on the sides, accompanied with some turtles.

Nat was also admiring them, seeing how the stingrays moved across the floor and slid on the rocks. Some were even camouflaged within the sand, while others hid within plantation.

You were now in the more exotic section, and Nat had to hold back a laugh when she sees you getting scared at the sight of a huge japanese crab, although she was smiling, she also would not want it near her either.

The neon lights inquired with each animal of their color, the jellyfish being a pinkish purple as it majestically floated around in the dim lighting. It was aglowed, within a circle tank.

Sometime in the big trip of exploring the aquarium, you and Nat went to the diner that was marked on the map, grabbing something to eat and drink so you wouldn't get tired.

Afterwards, your journey continues, and Nat had to change her camera's battery to her backup one, thankfully having remembered to bring it.

You were seeing the smaller tanks now, seahorses, baby crabs, shrimps and starfishes on the entire wall. Each held their names and types, giving facts of what exactly they are.

"That one looks like you." You point at a orange starfish, sitting on the rocks. It nearly seemed like it was hiding. She was expecting a cool looking fish or a shrimp, but when she follows where you were looking and your pointed finger, she gasped and lightly slapped your shoulder.

"No, it does not!" She exclaims, staring at you. You giggled, finding her reaction to be amusing.

"The hair, come on." You gestured towards the orange starfish then to her, your eyebrows raising in question for her agreement, while hers raised in a challenge.

"Just 'cause it's orange?" Her voice was nearly more higher pitched, but her face was scrunched up in utter disbelief.

The moment passes by lightly with a few more laughs and distractions of the other fishes showing off their unique colors.

You pass by some eels too, octopuses, and a giant gar that shocked you. You followed it while its long body swam forward, and Nat shook her head gently.

Soon enough, you reach to the end of the aquarium, the end of the journey a little bit saddening, but the amount of things the place held was satisfying. Nat had just the right amount of batteries for the entire trip, too.

There was a souvenir shop at the end, as always. Within it had keychains, plushies, and some snacks available to take home. You had to run your finger through some of the plushies. They seemed to fluffy and soft not to touch.

Nat had bought you a keychain of a mini plush orca, and your heart melted at her memory of remembering your first proper meetup.

Outside, the sky was orange, the clouds dissolving as the both of you made your way back to her car. You had really been in there for that long?

Nat gets in the car with you, setting her camera safely in the center console. Your eyes follow her movement, and you went to reach for it.

"No," she gently pushes your hand away while at the same time, wearing her seatbelt, and you pull your hand back to your body with a pout.

"You'll be able to go through it later." Her lips ghosted the smallest hint of a smile, and you tilt your head in curiosity, but you didn't question it as she started driving. Maybe her battery had died entirely? But you had seen her turn it off earlier with some energy still left.

After minutes upon minutes of staring out the window, watching the skies fade deeper into darkness, the car soon arrives to Kate's apartment once more.

You stood in front of the door as Nat waited for you, making sure your surroundings were safe so she knew you went inside intact.

"Ah..." You sighed gently as you look through your pockets, trying to find the house keys. Nat curiously looked to you, her expression growing with concern.

"I...forgot to bring my keys." The words were said quietly as you turned back to her. She had made sure you had everything before the two of you went too, but none of her face had any judgement.

"You don't hide a spare one anywhere?" She asked gently, looking towards the carpet in front of the door or any other places that could have the key. You purse your lips, putting your hands in the pockets.

"My keys are the spare keys." Your shoulders go down in defeat, now your mind definitely remembering how empty your pockets felt aside from your phone.

Nat paused and stepped back in front of you, her quietness being in thought while her eyebrows furrowed.

"Well...isn't Kate home?" She knew it was a low chance with how you had not reached for your phone at all, and the apartment being dark.

"No, she's at a friend's..." You shook your head, biting your bottom lip gently as you stared off at her car with the engine on behind her.

"...Do you want to hang out at my place until we can grab the keys or when she comes back?" She asks nearly hesitantly, yet in very high hopes that you'll accept, especially not wanting you to be alone or anything.

"Uh...well, I mean..." You stutter slightly for a moment, your eyes meeting hers as you thought over. A gentle cold breeze flowed against your body from the night air, causing you to shiver.

Then, you took a breath in, "I don't really have any other choice, so, if it's okay with you, yeah." Nat's eyes soften and she nods, turning to her car once more, making sure you were following behind her.

The car doors close with a gentle shut, and you settle down in the seat once more, getting comfortable as you didn't know where or how far her place was.

She turns down the AC, having noticed your shivers, and also turned up the gentle music so it wasn't entirely silent.

Your eyes grew heavy though anyway as you rested your head against the backrest, and the streetlights that passed by was starting to blur and fade into what was bothering, to now something that lured you to sleep.

The red light makes her stop the car for a moment. When she looked over to you, her eyebrows raise, but she wasn't surprised.

She gazed at your sleeping form, her eyes trailing over every feature your face held. The red light and the streetlights even added on to your face.

She shouldn't stare. Especially not when you were asleep. What if you had woken up? When the light turns green, she continues driving, shifting in her seat slightly to gather herself together.

It wasn't actually much of a long drive, only 20 minutes or so until she arrived to her place. Nat unclicks her seatbelt and took a deep breath, looking over to you once more.

She doesn't want to pick you up or anything, knowing all too well it might just be too out of your comfort zone together. Instead, she goes to reach her hand out and gently shake your shoulder.

"Hey," she whispered softly, making you slowly stir in your sleep before waking up, a small noise coming from you. You look at her in a haze of sleep, and she smiled softly.

"We're here," she unclicks your seatbelt for you before turning down the music so it didn't bother you, but being patient for your response.

"Sorry I fell asleep." You whispered, your voice quiet and husky from your rest. She shook her head, dismissing your apology as she turns off the car.

"It's fine. You were tired." She said gently with a reassuring look before opening her car door and going out to get your door for you.

When she did, she also helped you out, not wanting you to trip or anything within your sleepiness. With you out, the car door closes.

You yawned softly and closed it with your hand while Nat grabbed her keys out from her pockets.

The lamppost's light illuminated your faces, the streetsign just barely even showing 'Sixth Avenue'.

"You know, you do really look like that starfish." You said quietly, blinking away sleep as you took in the streets of her place, to then your eyes landing back to her.

"Nope." She said softly with a gentle pop of her lips and a shake of her head, going through her keys to find the one for her apartment.

"Mmhm." You hummed and nodded, urging her to agree whilst you took some steps and leaned forward. She leaned back slightly, but paused her movements.

Her hand then falls, the keys falling back all over on the keyring but still between her fingers. She turns to you, her eyes searching your face.

She takes a deep breath, "Well, I think we can both agree on one thing." She said in a whisper, but even if she spoke in a low volume, the quiet area had your voices being audible. Even the noise of the gentle wind or a loose poster hitting something being hearable.

Your eyebrows raise in question for her to continue. You stood up more properly with your brain fully waking up, but now you saw how close you were.

"That our eyes see the same thing." She said, taking a step forward. Your breaths could be seen from the cold air, and you felt her warmth, making your cheeks flush just slightly.

"...And that is?" your words were quiet under your breath, almost not even audible as you gazed at her with your heartrate going fast as if you were in a high speed chase.

Her eyebrows furrow as she searches a word in her mind for an answer to the feelings swirling in her. She found a simple, obvious one, but pushed the word away.

She decides on "...Something," As her lips were just a whisper away from yours. You shouldn't lean in closer...it was too soon. But why shouldn't you anyway?

end of chapter 9. <3

Series Masterlist <- Chapter 8

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#🥀 dawn’s collection #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff comfort #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff

[deadliestgalaxy]

SPOILERS FOR GOTG VOL. 3 - DON'T READ IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED IT YET!

I have a feeling that everyone (who calls themselves fans) that didn't get the meaning of the ending in GOTG Vol. 3 has never read a single comic of them or is only a fan of some characters/relationships. Many complaints I've seen are about the end and Gamora and Peter’s romance, which sounds kind of childish. You don't need to agree with me, but I’d like to elaborate on that.

James Gunn's writing is always about the detail of things and he is not afraid to do something “bad” if it is the best for the STORYTELLING. This is what most of these people don't get: the most important part of these movies is the story they are telling. The characters help the movie tell the story, it's their story after all — but there's no protagonist or greater good that puts them above the narrative.

(This is different from Gamora’s death in IW btw. It was not the only way they had to make the story flow; they just wanted to “humanize” Thanos and by that, they chose to kill her character. It was an action ADDED not CRUCIAL to the story.)

Vol. 3 is about found-family and growing up; finishing cycles. They will always be family, as we will always be part of their story (that’s why we understand Groot now). However, life chapters end just like in real books, and these Guardians as a TEAM “chapter” has ended for them and for us.

This is very common in the comics. Most times they are all separated, doing solo missions, until something goes wrong and they reunite again. They never stop being friends, why would it be different in the movie universe?

But the end suggests they are not family anymore.

Did we see the same film? No, it doesn't. We can see that in James’ subtle writing: the way they all still respect each other, their understanding of one another, and how they all would die for themselves if needed. That won't change just because they are not physically together — just like when you finish school you won't ignore your best friends, even if you create new relationships (which you will).

But Gamora is not part of the family anymore.

Well, if you see it this way, I can't change your mind. What I can say is that the story IMPLIES that she still is, in fact. And the number one clue is that she (in 2 days) understands Groot. Remember, we also understand him because the fans are now part of the Guardians family — so understanding him and being family are correlated.

Anyhow, I know this is not enough for most people, so hear me out: Gamora’s arc is about respect and healing. She starts the movie skeptical about working with the guardians — she just wants the money— when in reality, she acts like this because she is AFRAID and feels PRESSURED to be around her “old” family.

Imagine: you died but then another version of you comes back without knowing anything of your present life. People will expect you to act in a certain way that maybe you started to act after you met them; they will expect you to like certain things you don't know of; people will EXPECT you to attend to their needs. It is a lot to swallow at once. You are afraid because you don't know them, you don't think you deserve all this love and commitment out of nowhere. So you run away. You run away to find things on your own, to grow out of this pressure you feel and discover the whole universe of possibilities you have ahead.

That's what Gamora did. But then, the mission went south and now she is stuck with her “old” team. The film shows us her character exploring the ship, listening to music... trying to understand them. At one point she even says to Rocket “You must be a very loyal pet for them to do all this for you” (or something similar). This is her way of putting into words how she visualizes the current scenario she was put in. Slowly she recognizes that they are a family, and by the way they act she finally gets how and why she also must have loved them in the past.

She goes from “I don't give a fuck”, not open to them, afraid and pressured to “I bet we were fun”, understanding and respecting them, even fighting for their family to survive.

(If she still didn't give a fuck she wouldn't have fought for them and with them when she could have just run away again.)

But she has already created new relations, so she goes back to those for now. It is what she is familiar with in this timeline. Does that mean she will never contact the guardians ever again? NO. Remember: James’s writing is about DETAILS, nuance. She is open to them again, and the final part of the movie shows this to us, especially her last interaction with Groot, Peter, and Nebula being friendly.

Oh, but Peter and Gamora will never be a couple again, their romance ended when she went back to the Ravengers.

… Again, if you see it this way I can’t change your mind. What I can confirm is that she doesn’t close herself to the team — especially to Peter — in the end.

When she says “I bet we were fun” it's the first time she acknowledges their former relationship without distancing herself from it. She could've said “I bet you were fun” or “I bet she was fun”, but instead she prefers to include herself with “we”. She pauses before letting go of Nowhere, stopping before entering her ship — what moves her forward is Nebula, who can see her sister’s changed attitude but still encourages her to take a step forward and go explore the galaxy, because she knows Gamora is not mature and ready yet for those feelings; just like she wasn't ready to be openly sentimental when Gamora joined the Guardians back in 2014.

And Peter is also not ready. Just like Gamora needs to find herself again and discover who she is, Peter needs too. He is lost without her after IW, we can see it during Holiday Special and in the beginning of Vol. 3 when he passes out because of alcohol abuse. Both don't know who they are in this new reality — and they will only find out with time. Time heals and reveals.

In the end, Peter doesn't have the same thought as in the begging: he doesn't want her to be who he once knew, he wants her as she is, this new version whom he still loves so much and wants to know more of. Although he wishes she could stay, he knows that she has her own time and while she learns about herself he will go do the same.

So yes, they’re not explicitly together as a couple in the final scene — neither they kiss nor make out, whatever you believe a relationship is made of — but they’ve changed and are open to one another. The last scene does not appear to me as an “I’ll never see you again”, but as a “Goodbye, see you soon”.

(Aside from all the small bits we had through the movie of a developing relationship between them; my favorite one being when Peter activates the auto-destruction code and Gamora smiles at him.)

Besides, you can't force anyone to fall in love in 48 hours!!

Yes, I also have some minor complaints about the story, but I can recognize that — with all the turbulence the characters and the production faced in the last few years — it was a satisfying end with a limited amount of time to a badass trilogy. The end is definitive but also open to future possibilities for all our favorite characters in their universe — some we might never see and it will only be to our imagination.

Again, you don't need to agree with me, but I had to do this, or else I would implode with thoughts. Thank you if read up here! My ask box is open if you want to talk more <3

#gotg #guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy vol. 3 #gotg vol.3 #gamora #peter quill #starmora #nebula #rocket racoon #groot #drax #mantis #all the other guardians #I had to do it I'm SORRY #I can't bear it anymore #people need to stop thinking every story has a happily ever after #Besides that has never been how James Gunn wrote their story #it's not his style to do something so blatant #it hurts me to know this chapter is over but that's life and that's growing up #now to fulfill my starmora heart for example i’ll open AO3 #that's what we do we imagine the future and support our local writers #Sorry for any misspelling errors #English is not my 1st language

[kinzis-writing]

Better than Revenge | M.R [2]

Y/N vowed to herself that she would get her revenge on her ex-boyfriend. The only question was, how would she get her revenge? What better way than to involve his best friend. After all, the worst thing about betrayal is that it never comes from your enemies.

Pairing(s): Mattheo Riddle x Y/N Nettleby, Ex! Theodore Nott x Y/N Nettleby.

Warning(s): Mentions of cheating.

ii. “Wake up and smell the break up, fix my heart put on my makeup.”

Chapter One

"Who could possibly be better than you?" Hermione questioned as Y/N and the friend group sat around the table at breakfast. News had gotten around that Theo had broken up with the Gryffindor and the Slytherins had now turned their backs on Y/N. It didn't bother her; she had only ever hung around with her brother and Theo's friends.

"Please, it has nothing to do with Y/N." Ginny stated before taking a drink of pumpkin juice. "Theodore's a git and we all know it." She finished with a simple shoulder shrug.

Y/N opened her mouth to reply but closed her mouth when her attention was caught by her ex-boyfriend entering the dining hall. A black-haired Slytherin girl hanging on his arm. The Gryffindor girl quirked an eyebrow up in disbelief as the two sauntered their way to the Slytherin table and towards his ex's brother.

Y/N glanced over at her brother, only to lock eye with Mattheo who was wearing an indecipherable emotion. "Hey," Hermione spoke softly to get the girls attention away from Theo and the Slytherin table. "Let's get out of here." she offered as she went to stand up.

Y/N shook her head as she grabbed her arm and yanked her back in her seat, "If we leave, it will attract eyes and he will think he hurt me." The Nettleby girl explained as she turned her gaze back to her food.

"But he did..." Ron trailed off confused before Ginny kicked him under the table.

"I'm not giving him the satisfaction of knowing that."

Y/N had left breakfast with Hermione, Harry and Ron. They went back to the dormitories so they could grab their books and bags for class. The fact that Y/N had rushed her last couple homework assignments made her realize how much she depended on Theo. No matter what, she shouldn't let what Theo did affect her daily life. Yet, it affected her everyday she woke up.

"You're going to be okay." Y/N mumbled to herself before she followed Hermione to the first class of the day. It was the class that she had with Theo and a few others of the friend group. Hermione had sat beside Neville Longbottom after the Nettleby girl had begged her to switch with Theo. "Remind me to never tell you to switch with my boyfriends." The girl told Hermione before they walked into the class.

"I tried to tell you." Hermione mumbled before taking her seat beside Neville. The two of them talking about what they will be learning today.

Y/N rolled her eyes and made her way to her normal seat. She was hoping that Theo and his friends would skip class, like they sometimes did. Theo had tried to get her to skip as well but she refused, saying she cared about her grades. Getting her books out, she decided to read what they would be learning today to get an idea of what they would be doing.

A loud thud broke the Gryffindor girl out of her reading with a jump. "Fancy seeing you here." Y/N groaned at the voice that she had known all too well.

"Mattheo, to what do I owe the pleasure?" She asked sarcastically with a slight glare before going back to her book. She was unsure as to why the heir of Slytherin was sitting right next to her, or why he was even in class anyway. "Shouldn't you be out on the lawn, smoking during class?"

Mattheo raised an eyebrow with an amused grin growing on his face. "Keeping tabs on me, darling?" He teased as he sat down beside the girl that he had known since their first year. "If you wanted me instead of Theo you could've just asked."

Y/N rolled her eyes before glancing up at the boy that she was previously used to. There was a time when Y/N and Mattheo were friends, no one knows how close they were. Something had happened, and Mattheo turned a cold shoulder with no warning.

"Can I help you with something?" She snapped not feeling like dealing with the Slytherins and their attitudes today. "I am not playing into your games today, Riddle."

Mattheo's gaze softened a bit noticing the look on her face, before he quickly wiped it off and returned to his normal emotional state. "What's your plan?" The boy asked as he leaned over to his best friend's ex.

"What are you talking about?" She asked as she quickly jotted down notes about what she had read. Only the parts that she felt was really important.

Mattheo rolled his eyes, seeing right through the girl that he knew. "How are you getting back at Theo?" He asked again as he leaned a bit closer.

Y/N scoffed and shook her head, "how old am I? five." She spoke trying to play off her real emotions. The Riddle boy gave her a look before she sighed, "I had a few ideas." she shrugged finally giving in. "I don't want him back, so making him jealous is pointless." She whispered only for the Slytherin to hear. "I'm just going to move on." shrugged.

Mattheo scoffed, "That's it?" He asked. "How will that do anything."

Y/N rolled her eyes before putting all her attention towards the boy in front of her. She didn't know how trustworthy he was now, but she knows that he kept their old friendship a secret. Hopefully he would keep this conversation a secret. "Enzo has a soft spot for me, so I was going to ask him to be part of it." She shrugged. "it'll hurt worse with his friend involved." she added.

The professor has walked in talking to the class and went over a part of the chapter before giving the paired-up students a project to work on. "Don't you think it would hurt worse with his best friend?" Mattheo spoke up quietly, trying to see the girl's reaction.

"What are you getting at?" Y/N asked even though she felt as if she already knew what he was going to say.

"Use me instead of Enzo." He suggested which caused Y/N to laugh and shake her head a bit. "At least we used to be close." he whispered, acting like he wasn't paying attention to her reaction.

"What's in it for you?" She asked trying to decipher why he cared so much. Mattheo didn't catch feelings for people, yes, she had heard about him having one-night stands and girls he toyed with.

"let's just say," Mattheo spoke softly as he continued looking at the project before glancing back up at her. "I have my reasons." he finished.

🪄

"Absolutely not, are you out of your mind?" Hermione scolded as the golden trio, Y/N, and Ginny sat around the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. Y/N had just told them her plan and the conversation that she had with Mattheo during class. She knew it was a reach including them in on what she wanted to do, strictly because Mattheo's family. "This is worse than Theodore!" She insisted.

Y/N rolled her eyes slightly knowing that her friends would be against it. "You're forgetting the family that I come from." The girl muttered as she kept her gaze on the orange and yellows hues of the fire.

Hermione looked at the group around her, trying to get someone and anyone to agree with her. To Gryffindor's and the other houses, Mattheo Riddle was intimidating and charming. He came off as rude, cocky, and self-absorbed. Yet, Y/N knew that it wasn't who he was, or at least who he used to be.

"Do you honestly think Riddle is capable of helping you without something in return?" Ginny asked carefully as she glanced around the group.

Ron scoffed at his sister, "of course not. you know where he came from." the Weasley boy spoke in disgust.

Y/N sighed at that and ran a hand down her face. She knew all too well what people thought if they go by family trees. "And you guys know where I came from." she countered.

"That's different." Harry finally spoke up, thinking about the situation at hand. "The sorting hat knew what was right, so it's clear that you aren't like them."

"Says the one that was writing to Mattheo's dad, in his dad's journal with no thought about who he was." Y/N shot back. Tired of her friends being rude to someone they did not truly know. She didn't even know why she was defending him. She hadn't even properly talked to him since she had gotten with Theo, he had just passed a few snarky comments to her and went on his way.

The friends went quiet for a few minutes so they could try and sort out their feelings so nothing would be said. The last thing they wanted to do was to break up the friend group and all be fighting.

Y/N sighed, breaking the silence. "I'm sorry for being so worked up. I just know how my family is going to be once word reaches that Theodore and I broke up." She mumbled.

Coming from a family of Slytherins and death eaters, it was clear that his followers would do anything to get him back. Along with raise their kids to do dirty work and be one of them as well. Y/N was hoping that dating a Slytherin, especially from the Nott family, that her parents would get off her back about being a disappointment.

Hermione gave a small smile to her best friend, "I'm sorry." She apologized too. "It's none of my business what you do. I just don't want everything to fall apart."

"I can handle my own." Y/N promised as the group resumed back to their previous antics before the talk about the plan came about.

Early the next morning Y/N had gotten herself ready for the day. Many of the witches and wizards were going to Hogsmeade today, so she had decided to spend the day alone. She always went to Hogsmeade on weekends to spend time with her friends, but lately it had been almost like a third wheel, well, fifth wheel. So, when the time came, she had promised her friends that she did not want to go, and she had bid them goodbye after assuring them to have fun.

She had lounged around the common room, until she had gotten bored of doing the same things and decided to wander a bit. It was always a breath of fresh air when taking a walk around the castle and with most people gone, it could be quite relaxing. When walking about looking at the scenery, everything looked so peaceful and beautiful.

"We're going to get caught." a familiar voice had caught the attention of the Gryffindor girl. Her walking has slow and she came to a halt at the corner, carefully peaking her head around to see who was talking.

"Oh, please, since when do you care?" A nasally voice asked before going back to whatever she was trying to do. "You didn't complain when you cheated on your girlfriend with me in a classroom."

The man, who Y/N had now identified as Theo, scoffed. "A classroom is a bit more private than the hallways." He muttered.

Before Y/N could hear what, his new girlfriend was saying back, a voice caused the girl to jump. "Eavesdropping, love?" The voice of the Slytherin came out smooth. "Didn't anyone ever tell you how rude that is?"

Y/N rolled her eyes turning the face the curly haired boy. She had been wanting to find him since last night but had debated against it. "I simply came across them on my walk." she spoke truthfully as she turned to fully face Mattheo.

Mattheo's eyebrows shot up, "that's a bloody lie." he muttered loud enough for the girl to hear. She scoffed before rolling her eyes and leaning against the wall. "It won't last." Y/N's eyebrows furrowed at what he was talking about. "If Theo couldn't keep a relationship with you, he won't keep one."

"What do you mean by that?" Y/N asked as she eyed the boy in front of her curiously. Maybe Theo had not told the boys why they broke up because she was sure that they would make fun on her for it.

Mattheo shrugged keeping his lips in a tight line and scooting a bit closer to Y/N. "They're coming." he muttered. "Did you make up your mind?" He asked referring to what they had talked about in class.

"You." Was the only statement she could get out before he quickly placed a hand on her cheek as his best friend turned the corner.

Y/N and Mattheo's eyes quickly shot up to Theo's and the Slytherin girl that he had cheated with. Mattheo had faux annoyance, while Y/N looked nervous. Theo looked angry and his new toy had a surprised look on her face.

"Can I assist you with something?" Mattheo asked as the couple just stood there, not saying a word to the two. "I was busy, if you couldn't tell."

"When did this happen?" The Slytherin girl asked as if she knew exactly who both of the boys were and what they would or wouldn't do. "It's hard to believe that you would go for a Gryffindor." she added.

Mattheo rolled his eyes and took his hand off Y/N's cheek. He stayed close to her so he could ensure to play whatever part. "Just testing the waters." he shrugged before glancing at Theo and noticing his jaw clenched, a smirk grew noticing that.

"Y/N, can I have a word?" Theo asked as his gaze stayed locked in a war with Mattheo.

Y/N glanced between the two boys as she leaned forward and grabbed Mattheo's arm. To calm him down and also to say that she wasn't leaving without him. "I don't think that necessary." she replied back her hand moving down to Mattheo's. "We'll just get out of your way."

Without another glance she turned away from the couple and tugged Mattheo along with her. She didn't want to be around Theo or his toy.

Y/N let out a huff once they had lost sight of her ex-boyfriend, "Why does he have to be such an arse?" she mumbled with an eye roll. It was clear that Mattheo was watching her, maybe to see her reaction or to see if she had anything else to say. After getting her emotions under control she looked up and met her gaze with the boy in front of her, his warm eyes looking back in hers. "What are we doing? No one is going to believe that we started dating." she explained.

Mattheo thought for a moment, "Then we start spending time together, to make it known that we are around each other." He spoke trying to think of an idea that will make it seem real. "I'll meet you outside your common room every morning, we'll have meals together."

Y/N snorted at that before realizing that the boy in front of her was serious. "There is no way I am having breakfast or dinner at the Slytherin table." She refused.

"Do you want to make this believable or not?" Mattheo asked Y/N, trying to get her to see the reason behind then spending meals together.

She nodded, "fine. How about classes? I see that you replaced Theo as my partner in my classes. You guys barely come to class anyway." She explained as she had noticed how Theo had moved over to sit with someone else in class. "That's not even a concern right now though, how are we going to pull off dating? I mean, couples..." Y/N trailed off hoping that he was getting what she meant.

Couples showed plenty of public displays of affection. Especially when they have the biggest "bad boy" and "heartthrob" hanging on their arm. So, it was a given for the two. "Whatever you're comfortable with, love." he shrugged.

Y/N thought for a moment, her cheeks slightly turning red at the thought. Gaining a bit of confidence she spoke, "Everything." She told him. "Whatever you want."

Part three

#imagines #requests are open #harry potter imagines #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #theodore nott #theo nott #better than revenge #better than revenge series #Mattheo Riddle series #Mattheo riddle better than revenge series #Mattheo Riddle x OC #Mattheo x Nettlyby Reader #better than revenge part 2 #Mattheo Riddle better than revenge part 2 #mini series #series #imagine #fan fiction #fanfiction #fanfic #slytherin x gryffindor #slytherin

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | end up here

a/n: i'm going FERALLLLLLL over this chapter. enjoy poisoned mercury's debut album hehe.

iv. end up here by 5sos

series masterlist | previous | next

“your band name doesn’t even make any sense,” you argued, eyes narrowing at the boy in front of you. 

luke crashed your secret spot, again, and refused to let you smoke in silence until you gave him a detailed explanation of how your day went. he knew you didn’t smoke every day, only on days that were particularly hard. he noticed that your bad days always had something to do with your dad, but it didn’t feel like the right moment to bring that up. 

anyway, you got fed up with his badgering and that stupid smirk on his face because he knew you were about to crack, and decided that if he was going to act like a toddler, you would too. hence, why you were now bringing up his band name. 

luke took offense to that because he thought the band name was cool. he was the one to suggest it. he crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to let his hurt show on his face, “what do you mean? poisoned mercury is a sick name.” 

“mercury is already poisonous. your band name is like redundant or some shit.” 

“then why did so many people in history ingest it?” luke asked, recalling the one thing he remembered from his high school history class before he dropped out. he took a drag from his cigarette, turning his body a bit so the wind didn’t blow the smoke directly in your face. 

“they fucking died, castellan,” you replied, deadpan. 

“oh,” he blinked, staring off, “i didn’t know that.” 

you rolled your eyes, a habit that you’ve picked up whenever you were with him and sat back down on the bench. luke joined you, silent as he thought about what you just said. he really needed to stop zoning out during lessons, but since he was already out of high school, he guessed it didn’t matter anymore. 

as much as you hate to admit it, luke castellan was growing on you. sure, he got on your nerves like nobody else– the boy just doesn’t quit– but, he wasn’t half as bad as you originally thought. not that you’d ever tell him that though. 

when you got back to the cabin last week after helping with concert prep, the cabin was spotless. there were no empty red bull cans in sight, the table tops were free of crumbs, floor vacuumed and mopped, and there was even a candle burning on the counter. you approached your bedroom door to find a post-it on the handle. luke’s messy writing was smudged around the corners, but you could still make out what it said. 

“five star, 

i snitched on the boys and my mom will have a stern talk with them about their cleanliness. can’t promise that people will stop talking about me, but i can promise you won’t have to live in the dojo casa house mojo or whatever it was. 

ps i’m using the spot tomorrow, just thought i should let you know. maybe we can set up a calendar for reservations. 

luke :)” 

the cabin hasn’t been as messy since. whatever may castellan told the boys worked like a charm. there was still the occasional trash, but nothing crazy. it smelled better in the cabin too, still like a boy, but it smelled like expensive cologne more than anything. cedarwood and pine. 

and thankfully, the luke castellan hype train was starting to run out of steam, with many people finally realizing that he was also just a human being and the surprising revelation that luke castellan was not entertaining anyone during his time at camp helped with it as well. you still heard whispers about him here and there, but you were glad the topic of conversation was beginning to switch to something else. 

you and luke walked to the gym and back home every morning together. he and the boys sat with you and clarisse during meals. they tagged along for music lessons and spoke to the kids, which they really appreciated. they helped the older campers with writing music, luke particularly. you’d been around a few musicians in your life and many of them only kissed ass when your dad was around, but poisoned mercury was different. they were passionate about their music. that was clear.

after a conversation with clarisse, where she managed to convince you that not all musicians are like your ex, you began to let loose a little bit. you hung out with the boys more, partly as an excuse so clarisse could hang out with chris without causing too much suspicion, and found that you actually enjoyed their company. and luke castellan? well, he wasn’t half bad. that doesn’t mean he got off easy though. 

you took a hit of your vape, facing him, “are you done interrogating me?” 

“for now, yeah,” he smiled as you shook your head. “are you coming to the concert tonight?” 

“well, i did help organize it.” 

“a simple yes would’ve sufficed, five star,” luke teased, relighting his cigarette. it was burning unevenly and luke was never one to waste his cigarettes. “you gonna watch us play?” 

“don’t have a choice. dad wants me there the whole time.” 

“you can act a little excited,” luke ran a hand through his curls, “we are pretty good, you know.” 

“i know,” you hummed. the sun was beginning to set and there was a slight breeze in the air. goosebumps formed on your skin, the t-shirt and denim shorts you wore didn’t offer much comfort. you shivered, “i have listened to your music.” 

“are you cold?” 

your teeth chattered, but you shook your head, “i’m fine.” 

luke took off his hoodie, tossing it in your direction, “take it.” 

“no,” you tossed it back to him, “told you i’m good.”

always so stubborn, luke thought.  

“if you catch a cold, that’s not on me,” he placed the hoodie on the bench between the two of you. “which songs have you listened to?” 

“kilby girl, of course. it played on the radio so much when you guys first dropped it,” you said, remembering the days where you and your hometown friends would blast it in the car. it reminded you of high school, reckless decisions, life-long memories, and the thrill of knowing you were going to be playing the sport you’d worked so hard to excel in at a d1 level in the fall. you looked at him, sincerity in your eyes, “i really like family line. it might be my favorite.” 

luke’s eyebrows shot up. not many people talked about family line. it was probably their least streamed song. they never performed the song on tour because it was difficult for luke to sing it. it was a personal song to him. it was inspired by his relationship with his father, or lack thereof. 

when poisoned mercury first got signed to olympus records, luke sent a message to his dad on facebook. luke hadn’t tried to contact him since he was ten, not since his father returned his letter to him unopened, no response but a “return to sender” stamp plastered over the envelope. but after the small congratulatory party his mom set up for the band after they signed, luke felt like a little kid again, a kid who wanted to share the great news with his dad, so he found his dad on facebook, made an account, and sent him a message. 

he didn’t get a reply, which was expected, but it felt good for a second to pretend that he had a father to tell his good news to. luke thought he didn’t care about whether or not his dad was proud of him, but when his message went from “sent” to “read” a few days later, he was brought back to those moments in his life when he cried and wondered why he wasn’t enough to make his dad stay. he wrote family line in one sitting, on his bed in his bedroom in connecticut, looking at the little league medals on his wall that seemed to mock him. 

he originally didn’t want it on the album because he felt like it didn’t fit the vibe of the rest of the songs and that it was too real, too vulnerable for a debut album, but then he played it for his mom and she loved it. she cried when she first heard it and luke knew that even if people didn’t like the song, he was going to put it out for his mom. 

“huh,” he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, “wasn’t expecting that one. thought you’d be more of a crash my car type of girl.” 

“i like that too,” you shrugged, “but family line. that song. i don’t think i have the words to describe it.” 

“thanks, five star,” luke looked down at his feet, taking a puff from his dying cigarette. “that’s my mom’s favorite, too.” 

“did you write it?” 

luke nodded, looking to face you. there was a new expression on your face, one that you’d never used with him before. it was a mix of disbelief and awe. he tried not to get offended that you didn’t think he could write something like family line, but he couldn’t blame you. he didn’t really portray the type of person who would be able to be that raw and vulnerable on a song. “me and trav write the lyrics for our songs, mostly. chris and connor help too, but the bulk of the lyrics are me.” 

“you need to stop doing that.”

he cocked his head to the side, crushing the cigarette butt on the hardware of the bench, “doing what?” 

“surprising me,” you shook your head, “i don’t like it.” 

“i don’t know what to tell you,” he chuckled, leaning back on the bench. he looked out into the lake, watching the sun disappear behind the mountains, “i have layers. you just gotta give me a chance.” 

“how do you do it?” you sat criss cross on the bench, leaning against the arm rest. “how do you write like that?” 

you’d always been curious about music, even if you weren’t good at it. your dad was never one to answer your questions, especially because you were interested in lyrics more than anything, and that wasn’t his forte. 

luke mimicked your actions, “i dunno. personal experience, i guess?”

you frowned, thinking about the lyrics of family line. luke never talked about his dad, but spoke highly of his mom. was family line based on his own life? if it was, his dad was an asshole. 

you relented to the cold, grabbing the hoodie that he left in between the two of you. you ignored the triumphant smile on his face when you draped the sweater over your bare legs, shielding them from the wind chills. 

he continued, “sometimes things happen to me that get me worked up and i have to write a song about it. sometimes, it’s based on my imagination. it depends.”

you wanted to ask him about his dad, but you didn’t know if he considered you guys friends yet. it’s not like you made it easy for him anyway. you could deal with the banters and annoyance, but you didn’t want to push him to talk about something he wasn’t ready to. you could be a dick, but you weren’t cruel. 

you changed the subject, “okay, let’s play a game.” 

“21 questions?” luke bit his bottom lip, trying not to laugh. he waggled his eyebrows, dodging your arm that reached out to smack him. 

“you’re gross,” you gagged, knowing the implications of the game, “no, i’m gonna ask about the songs on your album and you tell me if it’s real life or from your imagination.” 

“alright, go for it five star,” he beamed, propping his elbows on his crossed knees. he loved talking about music with anyone. he could go on and on for hours. 

“18.” 

“real,” luke snorted, remembering the first time travis pitched the idea for the song to the band, “but not my experience. it was trav. he met this girl at one of our gigs in new york, right after we got signed, and he was obsessed. she was a freshman at nyu and she kept telling him he was too young for her, even though she was just less than a year older. trav was hooked.” 

you could picture it. it was definitely something travis would do. “okay, another one of my favorites. only angel?” 

“not real,” luke shook his head, a slight blush creeping up on his face. “if you tell anyone, five star, i will vehemently deny it, but i had a crush on jade west from victorious and i wrote it about her.” 

there was something about jade west that made luke like a love-sick puppy. ignoring the fact that she was hot, her attitude was something that luke was attracted to. she had a tough exterior and acted like she didn’t care about people, but she had her moments where she was soft and kind to the people she cared about the most. luke liked that. the idea that someone could be sensitive but only to the people they deemed worthy. 

he’d spent so much of his life trying to be worthy, in whatever way the stage of his life defined it, and he craved it– a pat on the back, an approval, a confirmation that he was worthy of it. 

you threw your head back laughing, surprised by his ridiculous confession. the sound of your laughter rang across the woods, making luke smile. your voice echoed throughout the trees and he his senses were surrounded by you. it hit luke like a truck. 

he sucked in a breath, taking out his phone. he jolted from his seat for more than one reason. “shit, five star. we gotta go.” 

you took out your phone too, checking the time. your eyes widened as you got up from your seat. you threw his hoodie over to him, “fuck, we’re late.” 

the two of you raced out of the woods, arriving to the concert venue with flushed faces and rapid breaths. you could feel clarisse’s knowing eyes on you as you got ready for the concert. you tried your best to ignore it. you were going to deal with that later. 

–

“and for the final event, i know you guys are looking forward to this one,” your dad laughed into the mic. the sun was long gone and there were disco lights illuminating the stage. a smoke machine was on either corner, making it difficult to see the bottom half of the stage. you and clarisse stood in the front row, listening to the deafening cheers of the campers. “ladies and gents, welcome poisoned mercury!” 

the screams got louder which you didn’t even know was possible. travis entered the stage first, sticking his tongue out as he expertly twirled his drumsticks around his fingers. connor came in next, smiling and waving at the crowd as he plugged his guitar into the amp. chris walked in with his bass strapped around his neck, eyes immediately finding clarisse and sending her a shy smile. you nudged her teasingly, enjoying the way she blushed under the lights. 

then luke castellan walked in. he ditched his hoodie and t-shirt and walked in with a white tank top on, messing with the curls on his head. he tugged on the silver necklace around his neck as his eyes scanned the crowd. he threw a wink to the group of the older girls in the back, turning to travis to let out a laugh at their reaction. the lights on the boys were blinding and a thin layer of sweat already began to form on their skin despite the bite to the air. 

luke took center stage, picking up his guitar. he leaned over directly in front of you, fingers pretending to mess with the wires connecting his guitar to the speakers, “hey, five star.” 

he straightened his back before you could reply. clarisse’s eyes darted between you and the boy, now nudging you like you did to her earlier. you rolled your eyes, smiling at the rest of the boys as luke began talking on the mic. 

“what’s up, camp half blood?” luke screamed into the mic. the crowd roared. “we’re poisoned mercury and we are so happy to be with you guys here this summer. before we close out this awesome concert, i wanna introduce our lovely band.” 

“on drums, we have the one and only, travis stoll!” luke turned around to applaud travis as he did a little drum solo, head banging as he hit the drums. he turned to connor, “on lead guitar, we have the amazing connor stoll!” 

connor strummed his guitar, leaning over on the left side to soak in the applause of the crowd. the girls beside you swooned as he unleashed one of his award-winning smiles. 

luke faced chris, “and on bass, we have my very best friend in the entire world, my 4lifer, chris rodriguez!” clarisse cheered loudly for chris as he played a tune on his bass, mouthing, “love you, brother,” to luke as he played. the crowd quited for a second as luke addressed them again, “and my name is luke castellan. we’re poisoned mercury!” 

you turned around to look at the crowd. the size of the crowd tripled when the boys got on stage. everyone had a smile on their face, excited to hear them play. 

“the song we’ll be singing for you guys today is from our debut album,” luke adjusted his mic on the stand. he got closer to it, lips touching the metal, “this is only angel.” 

you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at their song choice. this was not the song they were supposed to sing. they’d been rehearsing kilby girl for the past week. luke saw your reaction, laughing along with you. 

the instrumentals began and you nearly missed the beat drop because of the cheers from the crowd. as the song progressed, the boys were one with the music. you watched luke sing, working the crowd like a pro. his skin glistened under the spotlight, beads of sweat tricking down the side of his face. he approached chris when the chorus started, dragging his mic stand with him. he swung his guitar around so it rested on his back as he sang the lyrics. his curls were sticking to his forehead, eyebrows raised in glee as he performed. 

you couldn’t take your eyes off the lead singer, not even when the rest of the band had their own solos in the song. your eyes were glued on luke; how his adam’s apple was on full display as he threw his head back, getting lost in the music, how his arms flexed as he wrapped the mic cord around his fist, how his thin tank top stuck to his body and how it raised when he lifted his arm up to bring the mic closer to his lips. you saw the outline of his abdomen and his v-line. 

but what really got you was his face. he looked at peace on stage, a wide smile on his face, full lips pink and glossy as he licked them in between verses. he looked incredible up there, like that was where he belonged. he was born to be on stage like this. 

“fuck,” you mumbled, applauding at the end of their song. luke’s eyes found yours as he sang the last bit of the song, smiling at you. you hoped clarisse couldn’t hear you talk to yourself. you looked down at your feet, tugging nervously on the collar of your shirt, “i get it now.”

#frances writes #poisoned mercury #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke pjo #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson

[chaethewriter]

You're dead to me [5]

dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader

In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?

warning: english isn't my first language, sad and vulnerable Jake, angsty, happy reader?

Word count: 3,2k

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"Daddy, will you be my daddy forever?", you babbled thoughtlessly as your cheek is pressed against his shoulder, looking up at him from your position. The two of you lay in his bed as you couldn't sleep without him. A chuckle left his lips, making his chest vibrate against your skin. You giggled at the feeling and wrapped your arms a little tighter around his head. His hand was on your back, rubbing it reassuringly making you feel sleepy. He playfully rubs his cheek against yours, knowing his stubbles will tickle you. Just like he expected, the loudest giggles left your lips at the feeling. "As long as you want me to. And even if you don't want me as your daddy anymore, I will always be." You frowned at that response, pulling away from him as you sit on his chest, putting your hands on both of his cheeks as you squeezed them together, "You'll be my daddy forever!!"

"Don't touch me, Sully!!" You couldn't help but scream and wail at the sight of him, now that he finally realized who you were to him. It was like all the emotions you tried to keep in decided to escape all that once, making you feel so overwhelmed to the point you started sobbing out of frustration. Jake got closer to you, now on his knees as he slid closer to you with a desperate expression written on his face. Even on his knees, he was taller than you, his figure looming over you while he moved closer to your panicked self. The sight of you frantically trying to get away from him made his eyes tear up, "my baby please-" he got closer to you to attempt to comfort you, but you screamed right in his face as he tried to, "I'M NOT YOUR BABY." You hugged yourself as you leaned against the wall, loud sobs leaving your lips in an attempt to calm down. Yet it doesn't seem to work. You couldn't stop your sobs, when you did they only got worse. "I need you to listen to me, please," Jake finally sat in front of you. He really wanted to have you in his arms, hugging you tightly against his chest, but he knew that if he did that, talking to you would only be harder as you would be focusing on pushing him away. So he sat there, waiting patiently as he watched you with a loving glance. The last time he saw you, you were a tiny and adorable girl on his lap. Now you were a warrior and on top of that one of the best of your class. He felt so much pride for what you had become and wished he could have watched you grow up. Hence this was the time to redeem himself, be a better dad for you, be there for you, and make up for all the lost time. For you, he would wait for ages if that meant for you to forgive him. "I don't want to see you, go away!" You balled your fists as you punched his chest, a huff leaving Jake's lips as you did so. Your punches were genuine as his chest actually started burning from the painful punches you left him. But he let you, he let you take your emotions out on him. Because even though it hurt, the way he hurt you for leaving most likely left an even bigger scar. "Why won't you go away?!" "Because I won't leave you alone again. Let's talk, I need to talk to you."

Talk? He wanted to talk? He wanted to talk after years of leaving your side?

You actually laughed at how stupid he sounded, eyes wide open as an unreadable expression was written on your face. Dry tears stained your cheeks and your hair was a mess because of your frantic movements. Your eyes were expressionless, yet at the same time, he could read how you felt. "There is nothing to talk about," you pushed your sharp nail into his chest, "between us. You left me, abandoned me. DO YOU KNOW HOW I FELT?!" He wanted to protest, beg you to listen. Hell, he would even submit in front of his entire clan if that meant that you would listen to him. He finally wrapped his arms around you, a sob leaving his lips as he felt your warmth. "I am so sorry for leaving you, I just wanted the best for us, for you. I wanted to make you happy, but I failed in doing so. I should have talked to you instead of leaving you so suddenly. I should have given you a choice as well. I love you, I'm so sorry." Jake was ranting desperately at this point. He probably didn't make any sense, but he still had to try with anything he could. Your eyes widen at the gesture, the feeling of his warmth so familiar yet so unknown. You knew you had to pull away, so you bathed in his warmth one more time before putting all your strength in your chest. You leaned forward and put your hands on his chest, gathering all your strength in your arms to push him off you in one go. The push actually knocked Jake out of his balance, and he fell on his back. He watched you with a tear-stained expression, shaking his head as he couldn't form a single word. You rushed to the door with your back faced towards him, grabbing your mask to pull it over your face. You then turn your head to the side, looking at him with a look that could kill. The look of a warrior with a job. "You are dead to me, Jake Sully. We are nothing but strangers. Treat me as your acquaintance, for we are nothing more than that." And you left. The same way he did all those years ago. For Jake, those words were the final straw. He was seated on his knees as his elbows were on the cold floor, hot tears rolling down his cheeks as loud sobs left his lips. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." He repeated the words a million times, hoping they would reach you as he crumbled apart. No strength left to continue as the pain and guilt succumbed to his entire mind, body, and soul. Both Max and Norm emerged from the back of the facility, as well as the other scientists who heard the commotion. They watched how Jake Sully crumbled apart like a broken wall after an earthquake. Both knew he deserved the harsh reality of his actions, yet they couldn't help but feel pity as they watched their friend in his most vulnerable state.

You walked through the Pandorean forests to clear your mind, your eyes bloodshot red from the amount of crying you did. You sniffed inside your mask as your hands were balled into fists. You were so angry. Angry at him for leaving, angry at yourself for acting this way, angry at the world for taking him away from you. You didn't know how far you walked, but for now you could care less. You needed some quiet, alone time. Away from all the conflicts and responsibilities. Mindlessly walking through the forest, you arrived at this beautiful scenery: a river running through the forest, decorated with blooming flowers and logs to sit on. The sight was beautiful, something you truly missed having on planet earth. Mother nature, without any form of buildings or technology that ruined the place. You took a seat on one of the logs, adjusting yourself as you put your feet cross-legged. You closed your eyes as you listened to your surroundings: the running river, your steady breathing. Your lips are pursed when you let the tears escape. You didn't try to stop them anymore, it would only hurt more if you did so. You let them silently roll down your cheeks as you bathed in the sun. As you were focused on your hearing, you heard something different in the order. Leaves rustling through the wind. Your eyebrows raise as you stopped your sobs, keeping quiet to await the same sound. Yet it never came while the wind was still blowing. You steadily move your hand towards your hip to take your hunter's knife out of the holder. In one swift move, you turn your body around, leaning one knee on the log as your other leg was on the mossy ground, knife in front of you in a defensive position while the other hand was sheathed on the handle of your katana. You raised your eyebrows when you came face to face with four Na'vi kids, one of them being Neteyam Sully. Your knife was directly pointing against the Na'vi walking in front of the group, who had his arms in the air in defense. "Mawey, mawey." Neteyam stepped closer to you as he put his hand on your arm, lowering the knife. You sighed in relief at the sighting of a familiar face. If it was a Palulukan you would have accepted defeat. "What are you doing here?" He asked you again, stepping in front of the three other Na'vi as he took a seat next to you. "I'm just trying to clear my head, you know." You sat back on the log comfortably as you closed your eyes yet again.

"Are you our sister?"

"Lo'ak!!"

Your eyes widen at the question, watching the four kids as they all had different expressions written on their faces. "What? That's why we came looking for her right? Don't act like you all didn't come with me for that." The Na'vi named Lo'ak said as a matter of fact, taking a seat on the mossy ground as he watched you with curiosity. "I mean I came because adventure! Hii I'm Tuk!" This little adorable girl came up to you and you couldn't help but boom at her, "Hii Tuk I'm (Y/N), aren't you a pretty girl?" Tuk flushed as a response, "thank you!! This is my sister Kiri and my brother Lo'ak. You already know Neteyam!" You smiled at her innocence, seeing yourself in her as she started rambling about whatever. Neteyam pulled Tuk closer to him as he put her on his lap, still weary being in the presence of a human, being a momma's boy and all. Kiri took a seat next to Lo'ak who was still staring at you, "You still didn't answer my question." He earned a slap from Kiri as a response, her eyes rolling before she turned to look at you with a reassuring smile, "I'm so sorry about him. You don't have to tell you if you don't want to." You watched the four siblings, your four siblings, with a pursed smile. They deserved to know the truth, but were you the one to tell them? "We already know, if you are our father's adopted daughter, about your childhood." Your eyebrows raised in surprise at Neteyam's words, "did he tell you?" This time Lo'ak was the one to respond, "we may have overheard dad talking to mom about it, about you." That meant he talked about your parents as well. You didn't know how to feel about this situation. Should you tell them? They didn't deserve to not know about their sibling if they wanted to see you as one. They deserved the truth as you both had the same father. So you replied, "yes, yes I am. I'm (Y/N) (L/N) Sully, adopted by Jake Sully at birth."

Their eyes widen in surprise. Tuk tried to jump up from excitement, but Neteyam held her tightly against his chest, "so you're my older sister?" His eyes twinkled, even though he is trying to hide the fact that he was feeling kind of happy about having an older sister, not needing to share the responsibilities alone. If you wanted to acknowledge them as your siblings that is. You smiled at the way his ears perked up and nodded your head, "do you need some younger brother babying now that you know you aren't the oldest anymore?" You said it in a teasing tone, but you actually meant most of it. As the older sibling, he must have a lot of responsibilities with the way he is told to call his own dad 'sir'. Neteyam's cheeks flush as he let out an annoyed huff, still shielding you from Tuk if you were to try anything funny. "This is actually so cool! We have a human sister!" Lo'ak exclaimed and moved a little closer to you, "and we have the same alien hands!" You chuckled a bit at his silly behavior, he must be the odd one out of the family. "What is earth like?" Kiri asked suddenly, since her biological mother is a human and her adopted father used to be one as well. "Yes what's it like! Dad never speaks to his life on earth.. well we know now why but- ow!!" Kiri hissed at her younger brother, pinching him in the arm. Your eyes faltered at the mention of your dad and Neteyam seemed to notice this. He wanted to comfort you, yet was still weary of you. But you were his sister right? And come to protect Pandora from your own species right? He was in conflict with himself, but when he heard your silent sniff with his hearing, Neteyam immediately pulls your small body against his much larger one. You smiled at the warm and welcoming feeling. Now you didn't only have Seb and Raja as your family, but also your four siblings. You turned to Kiri and flashed her a small smile, "well, earth is so much more different than here. Nature is slowly disappearing as they ruin it all."

"They?" Lo'ak asked curiously and you nod at his question, "my species, humans. They destroy nature to build buildings, houses, companies you call it."

"What are companies?" This time Tuk asked a question, her eyes filled with curiosity as she learned something new from you. "Let me give you an example. So you hunt for food right? Say, you hunt a lot of that food all at once and you give it to people, but you want something in return. That's what companies do."

"But that's terrible, to kill so much all at once," Neteyam whispered under his breath. As a warrior, he had learned to appreciate nature, kill an animal respectfully, and thank it for feeding them. But this? Killing animals mercilessly? That goes against all of his norms and values. You nodded your head, "it's why so many animals go extinct on my planet. The humans are killing their mother," you took your hunter's knife and played with it while you continued your sentence, "but not everyone is so bad. I met wonderful people back on earth. People that fought against the cruel ways that destroy the planet." You looked up at Neteyam and Tuk, then Lo'ak and lastly Kiri, "I'm here to protect you all as well. As a warrior and a sister." Your hand carefully went to caress Neteyam's cheek, "worry no more baby bro, I'll be the one to keep you safe."

The five of you talked all day, they were such nice company. You mainly talked about yourselves, because most noticed how talking about Jake made your mood instantly drop. Most, because Lo'ak was as oblivious as ever. Neteyam wasn't usually one to disobey orders, so when he noticed how it was almost past eclipse, he shot up from his seat, "guys we gotta go, it's going to be dark soon and it's dangerous to be out around eclipse." He held Tuk's hand as he moved his gaze to you, "you should come to high camp with us. The lab is too far away and you need to be there tomorrow anyway." Your eyes shot up in surprise, "tomorrow?" You didn't know anything about tomorrow. Did you miss anything on the planning? Neteyam nodded at your question, "yes tomorrow, no one told you?" You shrugged in return, "I could have missed that part. The two other warriors I am with were busy today in different clans and I had to stay at lab, so I haven't spoken to them since." You explained to your younger brother. Both Raja and Seb had to go to two different clans. Being one of the best warriors, they had to watch over some important stuff for a while. You stayed at the lab, in case there were any emergencies. Kiri already called for her Ikran, a loud screech leaving her lips as she did so, "come on Tuk!" She called out to her youngest sibling. Kiri's Ikran lands swiftly on the mossy ground as it let out a screech. Your eyes widen in admiration, "wow... They're much bigger in real life." You only read about Ikran's in books and illustrations, but this was an insane experience for you. Tuk ran up to Kiri as the two of them got on her Ikran, Tuk sitting in front as she leaned against her sister's chest. Neteyam, as well as Lo'ak called for their Ikran, the same screech leaving their lips. "She's riding with me, Lo'ak. I don't want her getting in even more conflict with dad than she already is." Lo'ak sighed loudly, knowing that Neteyam was right, as he climbed onto his own Ikran. Your eyes sparkled as she ran up to your brother, "I'm sitting on your ikran?! Right now?!" He chuckled at your excitement, happy that he didn't see any tears anymore. The hint of sadness was still slightly displayed in his eyes and the way your cheeks were covered in dried-up tears, but he was happy that their presence made you feel a tad bit happier. He took you in his arms as he lifted you on his banshee, "shh, we are flying with three today." He whispered against his Ikran's head, patting her on her face before he got up the banshee with ease. "Okay hold on here and trust me, alright?" He held your hands as he showed you where to hold them. You smiled cheeky, never so ready for something before.

Jake's flight back to high camp was depressing. His banshee, bob, also felt the distress, guilt, and conflict because of the bond that kept them connected. The ride to high camp felt extremely long and draining, all his energy seemed to disappear. His eyes felt heavy as the tears couldn't stop flowing, the wind making it worse as it burned his eyes even further. After you ran out, Norm and Max tried to talk some sense into him. Yet he couldn't their words clearly. He seemed to be in a trance, unable to move as your words rang into his head.

You're dead to me, Jake Sully.

He shook his head to forget them. No, he wouldn't end it at this. Not like that.

Not again.

A/N: tysm for reading!! Reader is finally smiling thanks to the Sully kids hearteyes. Can't believe how I managed to write a total of 15k words so far, meanwhile I am struggling with the book I'm going to publish. Should probably focus on my book for a bit💀 but daddy issues Jake is also important. hope you enjoyed. <3

Taglist in the comments!! if you didn't get tagged it might be because you changed your username, your settings or it could be that I forgot to.

#dad!jake sully x reader #dad!jake sully #jake sully x daughter!reader #dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad! jake sully #jake sully x human!reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully #neteyam x sister!reader #neteyam #lo'ak x sister!reader #sully family x reader #sully family

[falling-endlessly]

Boomerang (part 3)

Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader

Summary: Your infuriating ex is planning something, and it's putting everyone on edge. But if he wants at the hotel, he'll have to go through you (and Alastor) first.

<— Part 2 Chapter Index Part 4 —>

—6 HOURS AGO—

"What," Valentino growled, claws creating cracks in the table from how hard he was gripping it. "The fuck did you just say?"

Velvette was no better. Her lip was pulled into a furious snarl, and for once her phone was nowhere to be seen. "Vox, are you out of your fucking mind?"

"Relax," Vox reclined in his chair, raising a brow at his murderous business partners. Velvette's eye twitched and the table creaked in protest under Valentino's fury. "I'm not actually going for redemption, damn, calm your tits people."

"What happened to keeping up an image for the brand?" Velvette banged a fist against her armrest, gritting her teeth. "The Morningstar bitch was literally humiliated on live television, and now you're going to personally advertise for her?!"

"The next extermination is coming sooner than ever, and people are getting desperate. This little publicity stunt can work in our favor," Vox crossed his claws under his chin, megawatt smile growing. "What's a little pity pitch going to hurt? Think about it, I can gather intel, fuck up Alastor's little project, and show Y/n where her allegiances should lie. Win-win-win," he chuckled ominously.

"Cut the shit, Vox," Valentino scoffed, leaning forward to sneer in his face. "It's obvious you're only going this far for that bitch. Can't keep a leash on your toys, hm?"

Vox grit his teeth, digging his claws into his thighs under the table. He knew this wasn't going to go over well, but to be talked down to by someone who was benefiting from him? "So what if I am?" He hid his rage with a large, mocking grin. "And by the way, where's Angel Dust? Haven't seen him around in a while."

Val's face twisted with rage. "You fucking—"

"Enough!" Velvette snapped, glaring at both of them. "I don't have time for this stupid shit. Get on with it or this meeting is over."

Vox's unhinged smile slowly relaxed into his charming PR one. "Of course, my apologies Velvette, Val. I can see why you're not...convinced yet. Let me fix that."

The projector on the wall suddenly sparked to life, displaying three pie charts and a legend with many colorful categories. He gestured to them from left to right. "This is a distribution of our profits from ten years ago, five years ago, and last year."

"We have eyes," Velvette droned boredly.

Vox's antennae sparked in irritation, but he continued regardless. "Y/n's helped develop countless programs and softwares, and with her expertise our earnings jumped thirty seven percent, especially during the collaboration between Voxtek and DeepSpace VR. Now, what happens now that she's taken her business elsewhere? Hell knows she has the computing power to run it without our servers—"

"So, we're supposed to just bend over backwards for a few bucks?" Valentino snarled, crossing his arms.

Vox's screen glitched as he struggled to keep his composure. Thirty seven percent was not just a few bucks. But he knew antagonizing Val right now was more trouble than it was worth. "Val," he chuckled, sauntering forward to rest a hand on the backrest of Valentino's chair, leaning into his space. "Since when have you said no to money?" His eye widened, rings spinning.

"Since it walked out on two legs and ignored us," Valentino snorted.

"Val, I need you to see the bigger picture!" He grasped both of Valentino's shoulders, moving behind him so he could speak enticingly into his ear. "This is an opportunity to keep our brand at the top, and get dirt on that radio bitch. The future is what matters, and we are going to be the ones pioneering it."

The projector flickered to one of the surveillance cameras pointed at an exterior angle of the hotel. Then, the image suddenly rippled to show an artificial video of the same property, but instead of the tacky hotel, there stood a modern building adorned with a bright, neon V logo.

Valentino's smile grew at his last sentence, and he turned in his seat, leaning his forehead to rest against Vox's screen. "I like your vision, Cariño," he purred, grinning wickedly to show off his golden tooth. "But, if your little money-making cocksleeve doesn't come back, well, don't say I didn't tell you so~" he said in a sing-song voice, long tongue coming up to lick languidly along the side of Vox's monitor.

Vox's grin froze on his face, screen glitching.

Valentino chuckled, pushing out of his seat before strutting away. "Oh, and Vox baby," he threw a saucy wink over his shoulder. "Come find me when you get lonely, yeah?"

The double doors slammed shut behind him, bathing the room in silence. Which Velvette quickly broke, of course.

"What the fuck, Vox?" She scrubbed a hand down her face. "All this for a profit we can afford to lose? Really?"

"Velvette," his smile twitched up to full, blinding attention again. "Have I ever let you down before? Everything is under control, trust me!"

"Uh huh," Velvette scowled, unconvinced. "You know, Alastor and Y/n are the only people you've ever really lost it for, and you're going to a place where there's both of them."

"What, you don't think I can handle myself?" His smile strained.

Velvette shook her head, standing up from her chair and approaching him. "You know, that PR shit might work on everyone else, but I can see through your bullshit, Vox," she gave him a hard stare. "Just don't fuck everything up, got it? Or I'll make you wish you didn't."

His fists clenched as she walked past him, smile dropping into a scowl as soon as she was out of view.

****

—PRESENT—

"Whatever you do, make sure he's at least ten floors away from me," you muttered to Vaggie, watching as Charlie gave the bane of your existence an awkward tour of the hotel.

The atmosphere was so tense and suffocating, it was starting to make you incredibly antsy. The others were no better. Angel was drumming his fingers anxiously on the bar counter, Niffty was curiously regarding the new "resident" and Husk was already chugging his second bottle of hard liquor. Holy hell, and you couldn't even forget about Alastor if you tried, the radio demon releasing a constant stream of static and looking about ready to sacrifice someone—preferably Vox—in an incredibly painful and sadistic ritual.

"I can't believe she's letting him stay," Angel hissed under his breath, rubbing his temples in exasperation. "Actually no, what am I saying? This is Charlie, of course she'd let him stay. God damnit."

A tap on your shoulder made you turn around, only to find your favorite stiff drink on the counter behind you. You nodded gratefully at Husk, taking the glass and throwing it back like water.

"At least the hotel's in one piece!" Niffty chirped, her one eye back to tracking any stray insects. "Less mess to clean up." Her knife gleamed as she stabbed a cockroach clean in half with a deranged giggle.

"This isn't going to end well," Vaggie scowled darkly. "He's going to try something, I fucking know it."

"Yeah, no shit," Angel groaned, Husk grunting in agreement.

"Or," Pentious chimed in, hair flaring thoughtfully. "He truly does want to redeem himself?"

There was a silence as everyone turned to look at him incredulously, before a unanimous, resounding "no," rang out.

****

"Anddd here's your room key," Charlie presented it to him with a flourish, beaming brightly. "We hope you enjoy your stay! Breakfast, lunch and dinner are served downstairs in the dinning room, or you can go out and get your own food! We'll get your survey ready for you tomorrow so that you can start building your schedule."

"Schedule?" He quirked a brow, taking the room key from her outstretched hand. "For what, exactly?"

"Oh! Um," Charlie laughed, rubbing the back of her neck. "We actually host group therapy activities and trust exercises with the other staff and residents! You'll fill out a short survey so that we can personalize—"

"O-kay, let me stop you there, sweetheart," he chuckled, grin widening condescendingly. "I think it's great what you're doing, really, I do. But I've already got a schedule, and a billion dollar company to run. I'm quite the busy man, you know?"

Charlie furrowed her brow. "But—"

"Seriously, my sales would fall and what would my clients say? Hm?" A crowd booing track played in the background as Vox shook his head like she was just some uneducated child. "So thanks, but no thanks." He shot her a wink, before the door slammed in her face.

Charlie blinked in shock, taking a few seconds to process that she'd been dismissed in her own hotel. Her shoulders slumped as she trudged away.

But that only lasted for a few steps, before she perked right back up. What was she thinking? Giving up so quickly on one of her clients?

Charlie grinned, smacking a fist into her palm. She'd just have to try harder.

Unbeknownst to her, a figure had been watching the entire exchange from the shadows. Your jaw clenched, claws digging into the drywall.

"Unbelievable," you shook your head in disdain.

****

As soon as the door shut, Vox deflated like a balloon.

"Fuckkk," he hissed under his breath, sliding down the door tiredly. "The hell am I doing?"

He allowed himself only a few minutes to wallow in self-pity, before he sighed, pushing off the floor and getting to work. In less than twenty minutes, he had the whole room wired to his needs, electronic Voxtek devices littering the previously empty spaces. Now he had a way to travel without leaving his room.

He was just about to dematerialize into one of his laptops when a familiar, chilling presence made him freeze.

"Why, you only just got here! Don't tell me you're leaving already," Alastor chuckled, tilting his head in mock concern.

The radio demon was leaning an elbow against his dresser, just casually invading his privacy. God, just his smug face made Vox want to kill him already.

"What's it to you, old timer?" Vox sneered, electricity sparking from his claws in agitation. "Unlike you, some of us actually have responsibilities. So if you don't mind—"

"Oh my, breaking your word to Y/n already!" Alastor shook his head with a grin, sound effects of a heckling crowd emanating from his microphone cane. "How very...disappointing. Truly, I'd expect better from you!"

Vox's eye widened, the swirling rings on full display as his teeth grinded in rage. "Y-y-y-you keep her fucking name out of your filthy, cannibalistic mouth! You hear me?" He glitched furiously, electricity sparking in glowing webs from his monitor.

"Aha! Someone's a little on edge," Alastor laughed in tandem with an artificial, mocking laugh track. "Really, that was too easy! You're losing your touch."

"Get the fuck out of my room!" Vox snapped.

"Gladly," the radio demon grinned menacingly, the corners of his mouth stretching to unnatural proportions. "But first, I came to deliver a little message."

Vox gritted his teeth, curling his fists by his sides. His electricity buzzed under his skin, ready to electrocute the fuck out of this crazy fucker if he needed to.

"If you and your merry band of idiots pull even the smallest stunt to sabotage the hotel," Alastor approached him, antlers growing as his eyes turned to radio dials. "I think you'll find out that absence did not make my heart grow fonder."

"What, don't tell me you actually care about this place," Vox grinned, baring his teeth. "The whole redemption thing doesn't really seem to be up your alley, no offense."

"Oh, of course not! Haha! Don't be ridiculous," Alastor chuckled like he'd said something hilarious, but it was overlayed with bursts of radio static. "But I'm afraid I've invested too much in this source of entertainment for you to ruin it with your cheap, unoriginal touch."

The message was clear: don't touch my things.

Vox curled his lip, unwilling to back down no matter how utterly disturbing Alastor's demon form was up close. It gave him chilling flashbacks of their last explosive disagreement. "Then stay away from Y/n," he spat.

Alastor's grin widened, eyes glowing an eerie green as he held out his hand. "Is that a deal?"

Vox grimaced, looking at Alastor's creepy, voodoo doll appearance. "Hell no, you creepy fucker."

Then, like whiplash, Alastor's demon form receded and the air became breathable again. "Well, glad we cleared that up, then!" He laughed exuberantly, twirling his cane. "Nice catching up, chum!"

The demon grinned as he disappeared into shadowy wisps of smoke, melding with the darkness against the walls.

Vox's jaw clenched, electric anger vibrating through him and rattling his teeth. "Fuck!" He kicked over the first thing he saw, which happened to be a wooden workbench. It took a few deep breaths for him to finally calm down and collect his thoughts.

When he was no longer at risk of causing a city-wide outage again (that had been fucking embarrassing), he made his way back to his laptop like he was originally planning to do, only to pause in shock when he saw the brand new device short circuiting, screen full of pixelated static.

An explosive rage convulsed in his chest, the lights in the hotel flickering ominously.

"You red bambi ass fucker!"

****

<—Part 2 Chapter Index Part 4 —>

Taglist: @pooplyface1423 @spookysisters @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @neito327 @hxzbinwrites @coleisyn @bababahannah @yellowsubiesdance @dirk-strides @justaspectatorforfandomarts @harmoira @sunnyslug @gum-iie @lady-valtieri @mit-suri @whatelsecouldgowrong @sillysimplysilky @eternalera @aoiyx @hazellight11 @hopefully-not @tsuvvy @imcryinginemo @dinorawrss @rekoloid @ayesha-eroticax3 @sle3pyh3ad2 @l0verboyxoxo1111

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #vox hazbin #vox x ofc #vox x you #vox x oc #vox x reader #vox x y/n #vaggie hazbin hotel #vaggie #charlie hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #angel dust hazbin hotel #husk hazbin hotel #niffty hazbin hotel #sir pentious #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #hazbin vaggie #hazbin hotel alastor #sir pentious hazbin hotel #angel dust #niffty #charlie morningstar

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 8] Unanswered Questions

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Satoru never thought that he’d be in this spot. He’s watching the woman he once loved or– His feelings are all over the place right now. He just knows that you’re treating him like a complete stranger. Although he can’t be mad since he asked for professionalism… You just treat him like you absolutely have no clue about him. Like you didn’t grow up together.

He can’t be mad. He asked for it. He tries not to think about it but he can’t stop. His eighteen-year-old self would be kicking himself if he knew about this reality. He really thought at eighteen that at this point of his life he’d be married… Which he is, but not with you. You were supposed to be together with a kid by this point, but now you’re playing secretary, one that acts as if you don’t know anything about him. Basic things about him seem to have slipped your mind.

He tries not to dwell on it… He doesn’t love you. At least not how he did five years ago. He’ll always have a soft spot for you, after all, you are his first love. He can’t help but wonder how life would be if he was married to you right at this moment.

“Mr. Gojo, I’m leaving.” You have to repeat yourself because Satoru is out of it. You walked in and he didn’t notice you, and he didn’t hear your voice the first time. His eyebrows raise, looking at his watch before nodding. You begin to walk away and he’s watching you.

“Actually–” He begins, making you stop. You turn to look at him, “Would you like joining me for dinner?”

“What for?” You respond. You’ve been working together for two weeks, and as much as you wish to say that you’ve grown close, you really haven’t. Satoru bites down on his lip, and he ends up shrugging. “I would rather not. Sayo is really sweet… But your mother isn’t exactly–”

“Why did you go to her? What happened to your studies?” He asks. Those questions bug his mind. When he left you, he thought that you’d be fine at the very least. You were studying to be so much more than what you are now.

“Not everyone is born with a golden spoon in their mouth. A lot came up in one moment and I couldn’t afford to study. It wasn’t because I decided that working for your mother was worth it.” You answer, leaving out the obvious details. Satoru slowly nods his head, and he clears his throat before speaking again,

“Well… I was asking you to dinner alone. There’s a new restaurant just around the corner and I don’t want to try it out alone.” He says, and you titl your head.

“What for? We have nothing to talk about, it’d just be awkward.” You respond, and his finger begins to tap against the hardwood desk. You try to smile at him but it comes off as insincere. “Thanks for the offer.”

“Are you sure? There’s a lot for us to unload… And since we’re working together, I think it’s best we get along.” He answers, and his hand begins to shake. He hides it under the desk so you can’t view it. The confident Satoru that he usually is isn’t all that confident now.

“I think it’s best if we don’t. That’s too personal considering we’re just working together.” You respond. He doesn’t have an idea but it seems that you’re desperate to leave, and it hurts him. Back then you would’ve jumped at the opportunity of having dinner together since you barely had any time to spare.

“It’ll just be for a short while.” He insists. He’s used to getting his way, he did grow up spoiled. He’s not stopping until you finally agree.

“Look, Satoru, I know you want to continue whatever you had with the previous secretary, and let me tell you this– I’ll remember our past for a minute or so. I’ve had you, and I don’t want you anymore. I have no idea what you have in mind but it’s not going to work with me.” You tell him, and he’s taken back by your response, but of course, he really wasn’t expecting much different. “Just let me go back home, I have a cat that’s waiting for me.”

“Why is this stupid cat so fucking important? I just want to talk.” He responds. He stands up from his chair. “It’s just dinner, the cat can fucking wait for an hour or so. There’s so much to talk about.”

“I’m the one that has a lot of questions that need to be answered, and I don’t want to hear it. I just want to go home, Satoru! Just leave me alone.” You slightly raise your voice, clearly annoyed. You just want to go home and see your son. “We have nothing to talk about. We must keep it professional.”

“You’ve grown so pathetic… Really, over a cat?” He pushes it, and it makes your blood boil. He’s simply just confused. He swore you were a dog person, but he guesses you’ve changed.

“Are you jealous over a fucking cat?” You question in disbelief. His jaw clenches, and he tries to take a deep breath. You have to remind him, “The fact gets priority over you. He always will. At least Ren didn’t fucking leave me and got married two months after you asked for a fucking break!”

“I–” Satoru can’t find the right words to say. Blood flows everywhere and Satoru’s face is flushed. He’s not sure what to say to that. “I had my reasons.”

“Then I have my reasons to not have dinner with you. If you’d excuse me, Mr. Gojo, I have to go home.”

Satoru’s mind feels as if it goes a thousand miles per hour. He’s thinking about you. You’re right, you’re rightfully upset but he’s so irritated with the fact that you’d rather spend the night with a fucking cat than have dinner with him. It’s on him– He knows it’s on him but he’s not thinking like that. 

“Hey, Satoru. How was work?” Sayo asks when she spots her husband. He’s not really in the mood… His feelings toward Sayo are weird. Sometimes he thinks he loves her, sometimes he can’t stand her. Tonight is one of those nights where he can’t stand her. He can’t even stand to look at her. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. Where’s my mother?” He responds, and she shrugs. Of course she doesn’t know, Sayo and his mother don’t really get along that well, at least that’s what it looks like. Sayo is about to ask a question but he walks past her, completely ignoring her. He goes straight to his mother’s bedroom, and he presses his ear against the door, and once he hears her footsteps, he barges into the room. She’s startled, her hand going over her heart before she looks at her son who clearly isn’t happy.

“Satoru? You look mad, everything okay?” His mother sounds genuinely concerned.

“Why the hell did you hire her? I thought you couldn’t stand her. At one point you were begging for me to break up with her.” Satoru asks, and he tries to keep his cool, to not lose control, but it’s hard. It’s so fucking hard. “You’re just fucking with me.”

“She needed a job, I couldn’t just–”

“You do it with everyone else! Why do you suddenly care about her?” Satoru cuts her off, and maybe he could’ve worded it differently. He doesn’t want you to be jobless, and as you’re right, he was born with a golden spoon in his mouth, he doesn’t understand your struggles and he doesn’t want to leave you without a job just because he’s… Mad at you. “Why did you put her as my secretary? Couldn’t you just leave her with Shoko?”

“You needed someone and she was available.” She answers, but that’s not good enough. She must have an ulterior motive, even if it’s his mother. She’s cold hearted enough to hurt him, and it’s so upsetting to think about because that’s his mother. “I don’t see the big problem… What’s wrong?”

“I was planning on getting married to her! And this is the stunt you pull?” He’s raising his voice, and his mother doesn’t like the tone that he’s picked up. Her arms are crossed and she raises a brow. 

“Don’t talk to me like that.” She tells him, causing him to roll his eyes. “You’re in my house.”

“I’ll be moving out soon! And I’ll get a new secretary.” Satoru responds, causing her to scoff. The arrangement that’s happening isn’t permanent either way, the moment that Satoru finds a new secretary, you’ll go back to Shoko. They’re throwing you around as if you were a ball of sorts. 

“What the hell did she do to you… Why are you so upset?” His mother asks, curious as to why he barged into her room. He hasn’t cared up until now. Satoru shakes his head and scratches the back of his neck, too embarrassed to admit anything. He just doesn’t know how to handle this rejection.

“I just don’t get it. You were so set on us being apart and you do this?” Satoru’s voice is laced with disappointment. He’s never really counted on his parents for any type of support, they were always absent. He counted on you for a big part of his life and when he didn’t have you, he only had his mother. He hoped that he could finally count on her for once in his life, but he can’t. He wants to fall to his knees and cry because he doesn’t understand why his mother is doing this to him.

“Satoru, you wouldn’t understand.” She says. 

“You did this to me, don’t you forget.” He points his finger at her before he walks away. He doesn’t understand why he’s on the verge of tears. His own mother is making him work with a woman that he once loved– Or loves… He still can’t figure it out. Seeing you every day is bringing back his old emotions, and he doesn’t know if he’s actually in love with you or not. 

“Everything okay, Sato–” Sayo begins as Satoru walks past him, and she can’t even finish her sentence before he’s gone. He doesn’t care to stop, stomping away from the place. 

She slowly blinks, watching her husband walk away. She ends up shrugging before leaving to do something else.

#[changes] #gojo saturo #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x you #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fanfic

[unholyhelbig]

new oversight will be everything! i can’t wait!

Title: Work Life Balance [an Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: When reader gets hurt during a job, she starts to worry about how her girlfriend, the infamous mafia boss that controls the city, will react

[a/n: while this isn't a new chapter of Oversight (I am working on that), it is set in the same universe as the Oversight. It's based off of a Private Practice episode, and something a little lighter & silly. Enjoy!]

Warnings: Gun violence, blood, spit, threats, blood, hurt/comfort, No spell checks

Check out the full Oversight universe

[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

The metal bat had slammed against the side of your face with enough force to blind you momentarily in the right eye. It knocked the sense out of you too and your bearings were scrambled until that darkness started to ebb away into a blurry image of the alleyway.

There was a pungent scent in the air, rotted food in dark green trash bags that had been torn by tiny teeth, or elongated claws. Crumpled napkins and discarded soda cups littered the damp ground.

Before the man could swing the bat for a second time, you caught it half an inch from your face and shoved it away. He was disarmed and you were able to shove his back up against the wall, holding him there despite his squirming. His lip was split, the blood drying quickly from the bright red to a deep black.

“Come on, man.” You twisted your hand into the fabric of his shirt, bunching your fingers around his collar. “We fronted the product, so you have to front the cash.”

“Fuck off,”

He spit on you, a gummy mix of tobacco and sugar. There were a lot of things you could handle; the ringing in your ear, and the pain in your knuckles from the first four blows you threw. But spit was where you drew the line. It had bugged you since you were in fifth grade and Amy Sheldon dangled a long string of it inches from your nose before slurping it back up through the slit in her buck teeth.

“Alright,” you breathed out, making sure you kicked the fallen bat out of his reach. “You agree to push product on that little street racer of yours in exchange for twenty five percent of the cut. You get sloppy and sample the product and don’t have the cash to give to my boss?”

You lifted him from the brick and shoved him back down onto it with enough force to push the putrid breath from his lungs. “That doesn’t feel very fair, now, does it?”

He smiled at you with a laugh that rivaled a cackle. His teeth were orange with diluted blood. There was no getting through to him. Your free hand dipped into the side of your jacket. Over the last two years, you’d grown well accustomed to the feeling of a gun in your hand.

You pushed the tip of the gun under his chin into the soft spot of his skin. He stopped laughing, the sound getting stuck in his throat with a choking sound.

“Do you know what they call me?” You gritted.

“A raging bitch?”

You made a buzzing noise in the back of your throat, much like the signaling of a wrong answer on a game show. There was a soft click as you pulled the trigger of the gun. The man in your grasp tensed and hissed.

“Wrong. You know, at first, I just forgot to load my gun. Got me into some pretty hot water, scalding actually. But eventually it became a bit of a calling card. Roulette. I can pull the trigger as many times as I want, but only one will hit it’s mark.”

He swallowed hard, you felt it in the side of your hand. He was sweating and you were growing tired of the empty threats. Yelena wouldn’t approve of something like this, and you were sure Natasha wouldn’t have had a second thought about putting a mark between his eyebrows.

“Most men aren’t lucky more than twice,” You pulled the trigger again, met with another soft click. Of course, there were no bullets in the chamber; they rattled in your front pocket like your keys. “Three times at most.”

His voice cracked. “Please,”

There was a sharp scent in the air that rivaled that of trash. You were losing blood fast. It had streaked down the side of your face from a gash on your temple and crusted the collar of your shirt.

“You have a week to make up the difference. A week and I’ll be back with a gun that has more than one bullet in the chamber. Am I clear?”

“Yes, but-“

“Am I clear?”

He nodded aggressively and you sheathed your weapon, releasing him. His legs gave out and he sunk to the damp pavement. You picked up the weighted metal back, entirely content to take it with you. It would make your next encounter a hell of a lot easier.

It was impossible to sneak into the house without giving yourself away. Even if you were to park down the block, unlace your shoes and pad into the foyer barefoot, and leave the front door open a crack, you were at risk of creating a scene.

That didn’t mean that you couldn’t keep the injured side of your face away from Natasha for as long as possible. She would know that something was up, and despite her throwing you into this life in the first place, her heart broke when you were on the deep side of any injury.

You set the metal bat down with a bucket of black umbrellas and a bench that was mostly unused. There was a dull metal thump that aggravated the headache that was coming on. You attempted to sneak up the stairs, but the second your fingertips hit the mahogany handrail you were stopped by an irritated voice with a Russian lilt to it.

Yelena was sprawled out on the sofa, a book was face down on her chest, lifting and falling with each breath. She’d given up on it in favor of the warmth that Kate provided her. Kate’s head was on Yelena’s shoulder, her arms wrapped around her midsection. Yelena looked perfectly comfortable in between Kate’s legs, both of them were about ready to doze off and if you had waited an extra five minutes, maybe you would have gotten away with sneaking in.

“Did you get hit by a bus?” Kate asked.

You leaned against the entryway of the sitting room. “Ricky got a good hit in with a metal bat.”

“Oo, Natasha is going to be mad at you.” Yelena chuckled, taunting you like a child. You would have thrown a pillow at her if Kate wasn’t in the line of fire.

She was going to be mad at you for not using the buddy system that was proposed and certainly for not dodging the hit that was coming your way. Natasha hated when you got hurt and that sad look in her eyes was worse than whatever pain could be inflicted on you.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“It looks pretty bad.” Kate said.

You shot them both the middle finger before turning away and padding up the stairs towards your shared bedroom with Natasha. Most days, she was holed up in her office and you didn’t bother her until the ache for her touch, for her presence, bothered you both enough to cave.

That was most days.

Some days, Natasha could be found in your room in sweatpants with a laptop propped up on her crossed legs. She was dwarfed in the silk bedspread, her hair in a messy bun and a pair of glasses on the bridge of her nose.

This was quite possibly your favorite look on Natasha, this quiet version of her. She’d let you hold her in this state instead of the other way around. You hated to break the mood, hated that she glanced up from her laptop not once, but twice.

Wordlessly, Natasha set her work aside and walked over to you. She cupped your face, her fingers cold against your cheeks. Her voice was soft and when she was angry enough, there was the slightest bit of a Russian inflection to her words. “What happened?”

“I… didn’t use the buddy system.”

“Mm, you didn’t use the buddy system.”

Her thumb moved against the black and blue wound against your eye. She pressed every so slightly, testing its durability. You winced, drawing in a breath through clenched teeth. It wasn’t bad, really, her touch soothed you just as quickly as it had bitten you with pain.

Natasha was good at taking care of you and she pulled you into the large master bathroom that the two of you shared. There was an abundance of white and beige. It was always a few degrees cooler than the rest of the house and offered a form of comfort as such.

There were nights where the two of you would simply brush your teeth shoulder to shoulder, and there were nights where she had her arms wrapped around you amongst the deep scent of lavender. Bubble hit her touch as her fingers roamed over the most intimate parts of you.

Now, she guided you to the edge of the sink and lifted you up in a fluid motion. She stood between your legs, making you feel even more like a child when Yelena had scolded you downstairs. Still, there was a degree of affection in her movements. Natasha frowned as she pulled a med kit from the bottom of the sink.

She tutted “Zaychik, this looks bad.”

“Image wise or the actual wound because-“You let out a small noise when she placed the frigid and stinging antiseptic against your face. It sent electric down your spine. “I didn’t know he had a bat.”

“A bat?”

“Right out of left field.”

Natasha’s frown deepened. This was supposed to be an easy job, and by all means, it was. You had accomplished your assignment of scaring up. You were sure he had released his bladder as he slid down the wall into a fetal position. Getting the money from a frightened man was going to be no problem.

Tonight was intended to be calm. You’d come home and shower and eat pizza and spend the entire night curled up in Natasha’s arms while she typed away on the computer. You’d listen to her breathing, her heartbeat.

Instead, she was roughly patching you up, buzzing with anger under her stare. “Why didn’t you take Clint?”

“Nat, I have a fantastic idea.”

“If it involves gutting that man alive and hanging him from a flagpole, then I am all in, darling.” Her words were light, distracted, as she wiped away a good portion of dried blood.

“What if we left things at the office, metaphorically speaking. What if we didn’t bring stuff like this home? Shut it all off.”  

She pulled back far enough to stifle her floral scent. There was an adorable crease between her eyes. “My mind doesn’t work like that, Malysh. This home is my office and vice versa. Someone hurt you and that is my business. That is my work.”

“I know,” you said, tucking a strand of fallen hair behind her ear. She glowered under her thick-framed glasses. You wanted nothing more than to kiss the frown off her face. “I know, but sometimes I just want to be with you.”

“Huh,”

“Huh?”

“Huh.”

This wasn’t exactly a constructive conversation. You figured as much when she ripped a bandage out of its waxy packaging and slapped it onto the gash against your temple. You let out a disgruntled noise and she grasped your waist and maneuvered you back to the floor. Your legs had fallen asleep and you were a little unsteady.

Natasha flicked on the sink and started scrubbing her hands of your blood. “No sex,”

“What?” You blinked at her, scratching fruitlessly at the adhesive on the bandage. It was incredibly itchy.

Natasha dried her hands on the nearby towel, “You heard me, no sex.”

“You… You’re withholding sexual pleasure because of something that happened at work?”

“Not something that happened at work, your refusal to talk about it.”

“Natasha,” You nearly whined.

“No sex!” She huffed, pointing towards the exit of the room “Go sleep on the couch.”

You dropped your shoulders in defeat. You had been banned to the couch? Your girlfriend didn’t’ withhold most things and the two of you had a very healthy and active life. There wasn’t true anger behind her words, instead she was testing you. Watching you until you give in.

“Fine,” You huffed, crossing your arms “The couch sounds lovely.”

“Good,”

“Great.”

“Fine.”

You grabbed the fuzzy blanket at the base of the bed and started to stalk towards the door. You could feel Natasha staring at you, waiting for you to turn around and apologize but it wouldn’t happen. Not this time. You were setting boundaries and if that included…no sex… then that was fine. It was fine.

“Zaychik?”

You turned back to Natasha, one eyebrow lifted, “Yes?”

“Leave the blanket.”

She gave you a sugary sweet smile before settling back into her previous position, pulling her computer into her lap. Your jaw was agape, but you tossed the blanket at her nonetheless and stormed out of the room.

The nerve, the absolute nerve!

Natasha wasn’t particularly hard to have a conversation with, but work was nearly untouchable with her. You knew that. She knew that. You did as you were told and protected her and her assets at all costs.

When you got back downstairs you fixed yourself a sloppy peanut butter and jelly sandwich before sulking back into the living room and flopping down onto the recliner in the corner. Yelena had since fallen asleep, and Kate was reading the book while her eyes grew heavy.

“You got kicked out, huh?”

“Kicked out, banned from sex.” You waved the sandwich around in the air “doghouse.”

Kate scoffed “the Romanoff sisters aren’t always the most forthcoming, are they?”

She was looking lovingly at Yelena, stroking her hair as the smaller woman curled deeper into her, fingers clenching at Kate’s flannel and then releasing as she settled back into a comfortable sleep.

“They make it hard to love them, but the moments where the mask slips and they’re vulnerable. Moments like these make everything worth it. And despite everything, you know they care. They’ll always care.”

“Sometimes too much,” you took a large bite of your sandwich.

“No such thing.”

Yelena stirred in her arms, nose pressed against Kate’s pulse point. She clenched her eyes tighter, her next words mumbled “Kate Bishop, if you don’t stop talking you will be sleeping on the couch with y/n.”

“Doghouse,” You said with a long sigh.

“Mm,” Kate hummed, letting out a quiet whisper “Doghouse,”

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toouncreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos@cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145, @natsxwife]

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanov #Natasha Romanov x reader #natasha Romanov x y/n #Natasha Romanov x you #Mafia au #Mafia Boss Natasha Romanoff #Kate Bishop #Yelena Belova #Bishlova

[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille - Chapter Twelve

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 16.6k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Hi babes!! Welcome to the latest update (a crazy one!!) Lot's going on in this chapter, including a boatload of angst, a bit of fluff, some ~spice~, and lots of emotions. It is a pretty Yoongi-heavy chapter (nice) so for all my Yoongi stans-- this one is for you! I hope you all enjoy this update, and let me know what you think if you'd like, and I'm sending you all my love 💕

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Yoongi leaned against the grimy plaster that made up the back hallway of The Black Lodge, trying not to grimace as he felt the silky material of his button-down sticking to the years of smoke residue and alcohol fumes. The air was thick with wispy clouds of cigar and cigarette smoke, as it always was, and the strange, dark energy of the bar was still ever-present; but Yoongi wasn’t entirely focused on that, for once. 

He could really use a cigarette, himself. Yoongi quit smoking around the time his mother passed away– no, don’t think about it. Using his pointed incisors, he bit down on his lower lip enough to draw blood, the piercing pain chasing any thoughts of his mother from his mind, a coping mechanism he’d picked up over the past year. Refusing to cut his hair, abstaining from composing, gnawing his lips into shreds; anything to distract, or perhaps to punish, to forget. 

Time marched on, unfortunately. Mourning in an already mournful place was useless and made him feel like he was drowning in a pit of molten tar. Even clinging to hope, that one day he’d be able to manage breaking free and finding somewhere else to live, the hope grew dimmer by the day. 

The frown on the leopard hybrid’s face deepened as the sound of someone retching in the men’s bathroom he was standing across from reached his sensitive ears. Sometimes, he wished he could stick pencils in the spotted appendages– he’d take normal, dim human hearing from his other set over some of the shit he had managed to overhear with hybrid ears during his nearly 28 years of life. Absently, he reached up to fiddle with one of the earrings dangling from his lobe– the silver, pointed shape of a feathered wing gliding between the pads of his forefinger and thumb. 

His frown turned into the faintest ghost of a smile, that vicious and searing sensation of growing hope knocking the wind out of him as he caught the scent of jasmine– mingling with sharp botanicals, a saccharine underlying sweetness, and something uniquely human. He straightened up immediately, the door of the women’s bathroom creaking open and a great gust of that delicious scent smacking him square in the face. 

“I-? I what?” Y/N squeaked, not only unable to recover from the tender kisses Yoongi had showered over her wrist and hand, but the words that had come out of his mouth immediately after he pulled away from her slightly. “Y-yoongi. We kissed? I asked you to kiss me?”

Yoongi was now rather quiet, slowly moving away from her and staring out his window, his face somewhat closed off now that he had revealed what Y/N knew he was leaving out of the whole story of their first meeting. His tail was curling around his own waist mindlessly, and Y/N was cold and reeling with the absence of his body heat that was once accelerating her heartbeat into a gallop. 

It seemed that Yoongi was giving Y/N a few moments to process everything he confessed, a poorly-constructed imaginary wall in between them as she babbled nonsensically. 

“I’m? I don’t even know what to say. I never get that drunk, enough to ask for a kiss from a total stranger,” Y/N blurted out something that actually made sense after a few moments of stuttering, however, the statement that left her lips had Yoongi hissing and a flash of hurt sparking up his feline hazel gaze. Abruptly, Y/N wished she could collect her words from the air and stuff them back into her mouth. “I’m so, so sorry, Yoongi… I shouldn’t have forced you into a corner like that.”

Yoongi was astonished, his tail beginning to flick back and forth so sharply Y/N knew that he was very agitated. Deciding to shut up before she offended the leopard hybrid any more than she clearly already had, Y/N began to approach Yoongi at snail’s pace to prevent him from flinching away. 

“When did I say that you had forced me into a corner, Y/N? Are you serious right now?” Yoongi used her name for the first time in what felt like months, taking her off guard and making her swallow thickly. His voice was soft, but had a deadly edge to it, and the way his jaw was clenched had shivers rolling down her spine– Yoongi actually looked like the predatory leopard he was. 

“I was just saying, um, like I feel bad that I threw myself at you like that,” Y/N wished she could rewind time and relive the tender moment they had right before the bombshell was dropped, but that tenderness seemed to be leagues out of her grasp. 

“You did nothing of the sort. I told you, we talked for almost two hours. We were hardly strangers by the time I kissed you, by the way,” Yoongi crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at Y/N with a dangerous look in his eyes. It made Y/N want to back up and shrivel beneath his gaze, but she knew that Yoongi would never hurt her, so she stood her ground, albeit shakily. “I liked you, Y/N. I wanted to kiss you.”

“L-liked?” Y/N couldn’t help but emphasize the end of the word, the past tense, where Yoongi had implied that his affection for her had disappeared over the course of the year. 

After all, she made him wait, got his hopes up, and was now implying herself that he was nothing but a drunken mistake. Heart plummeting into her stomach, she watched Yoongi’s nose twitch, likely picking up on her anxiety and rising stress levels, the stoniness of his features loosening up a tad. The air was charged, tense, and Y/N wasn’t sure who would cut it first, and where the complicated conversation was going. 

“Y/N–” Yoongi took a step forward, his hand raised as if to place it on her cheek, before the sound of his bedroom door being blasted open cut him off with a surprised grunt, blood draining from his face. 

“HEY, YOONGI. WHAT TIME IS DINNER?” Hoseok jogged into the room shouting, loud rap music coming out of the earpods he was wearing, his breathing labored. 

The fox hybrid must have just come back from a run, and nothing on his face indicating he had a flying fucking clue what Y/N and Yoongi were talking about– he didn’t even seem to notice the tension swirling around the room, Y/N’s stricken expression, or the fact that she was just standing in the middle of Yoongi’s bedroom. Urgently, Yoongi put space between her and himself, dropping back into his composed attitude, like nothing had occurred at all. 

Ambling forward calmly, Yoongi yanked one of Hoseok’s earpods out, Hoseok grinning at him cheekily and switching off the music on his phone. Still standing in the center of the room motionless, Y/N gawked at Yoongi’s flawless attempt to appear normal and nonchalant. 

“Foxy, you trying to blow out your eardrums?” Yoongi grumbled, frowning deeply when Hoseok plopped down on the leopard hybrid’s bed. “Dude, you’re fucking soaked. Get off my bed.”

Hoseok did nothing of the sort, simply repeating his question about dinner, flicking his sweaty bangs off of his forehead with a smirk and leaning back on Yoongi’s cushy beige comforter smugly. 

“I don’t know when dinner will be ready. I was going to make something carb-heavy because I have a game tomorrow night. There’s pasta dough in the fridge…” Yoongi began tying up his hair with a purple scrunchie Y/N had got for him at work, the sight of him both using it and the fact that he didn’t let her put up his hair for the first time in weeks, making her chest squeeze in pain. “Can you help roll out the pasta for the machine, Foxy? I think Y/N mentioned she wanted to shower before dinner, which honestly you should be doing instead of perspiring all over my bed.”

Y/N hadn’t mentioned taking a shower before dinner at all, and she didn’t know if Yoongi wanted space from her and didn’t want to come out and say it, but the lie stung nonetheless. 

“Ah, I’ll shower before bed. Especially if I’m going to be covered in sweat and flour,” Hoseok heaved himself off of Yoongi’s bed, following Yoongi to the door and out into the hall. 

Willing her legs to move, Y/N felt her throat grow thick, confused and left out in the cold. Swiftly, she made her way into her bedroom once she was confident Hoseok and Yoongi were in the kitchen, hastily getting right into the shower so she could put off a crying session. Having red eyes and a swollen face at dinner wasn’t appealing to her, and would attract way too many questions. 

There was a lot for her to think about surrounding the state of her and Yoongi’s relationship now, but Y/N knew if she dwelled on it for too long, her attempt to keep tears at bay would be spoiled. She would give anything to pull the memory of her night at The Black Lodge with Yoongi out of the deep corners of her mind; to relive it, to understand her thought process and how her brain absorbed it. Her body felt weakened after the intensity of what she had learned, head pounding and legs like jelly, and she wasn’t sure if she could make it through dinner acting like everything was okay when she really just wanted to burrow into her bed for the next three weeks. 

Y/N took her sweet time massaging her jasmine lotion into her skin, selecting a warm set of pajamas, and even tidying up some clutter around her room to make sure she was only in the kitchen long enough to choke down some food before she could pull her cozy quilt over her head and sleep away all of her confusing thoughts. It would be damn near impossible for her to get out of the nightly movie routine she had created with all of the boys, and it was her turn to pick out the movie that night as well, but perhaps she could act like she was too exhausted to stay up past dinner. 

Taking Yoongi to his game the following day ought to be awkward. It wasn’t like they could exactly continue their conversation– the rest of the hybrids were going to tag along, so they could grab some dinner afterwards and have a nice Saturday night out on the town. In reality, she wasn’t sure she’d get more one-on-one time with Yoongi until their next piano lesson, if he kept dragging other hybrids into helping him with meals rather than her. 

Slapping moisturizer onto her face, Y/N stared at herself in the old silver mirror hanging over her sink vanity, miraculously appearing pretty normal despite the pure bewilderment she was still experiencing. There was barely detectable puffiness around her lash lines, probably from the effort of holding back frustrated tears in the shower, and she was fairly positive no one would even notice– that is, unless Taehyung got close up to her face, which was always a frequent occurrence. 

 Hoseok 🦊: dinner’s ready, darling~~~

Y/N’s phone chimed, a message and photo coming in from Hoseok. He sent her a selfie, flour dusted across his nose, holding up a plate of fettuccine alfredo, with broccoli and chicken, from the looks of it. Immediately, she saved the picture and added it as his contact photo, loving the little grin on his face– it replaced the former incredibly attractive photo of him post-track meet sweaty and smirking at the camera. Brightening upon seeing Hoseok’s good-natured, radiant smile, Y/N felt a whole lot better about heading out into the kitchen. Whatever was going on between her and Yoongi would eventually be sorted out and addressed, but it wasn’t fair to the others for her to hole up in her room and ignore their nightly routines.

Exiting her room, she headed straight to Namjoon’s half-open door, the crackly sound of his Walkman playing an old Bob Dylan tape filling his cozy space. The room was filled with lamplight, and Namjoon even had a stick of amber incense going on his desk, and she felt immense comfort in even just hanging out in the threshold of his door. However, the wolf hybrid wasn’t in either of his usual spots– the wooden desk chair or the cushy window seat. 

“Joonie?” Y/N called out softly, wondering if he had popped out to his van to retrieve a book or something. 

In response to the sound of his nickname being called, the door to Namjoon’s bathroom creaked open, a mumbled ‘hold on’ coming from him gruffly. Y/N took it upon herself to enter his room further; ever since his birthday, Namjoon really didn’t have a problem with her in his space, and often invited her into his room when he wanted her opinion on something. Typically, it was over a Tarot card meaning or her thoughts on a passage in a book he was reading; Y/N thought it was really sweet of him, and besides– she loved talking to Namjoon, he was insightful and overwhelmingly intelligent. 

Finally, the wolf hybrid emerged from his steamy bathroom, silvery hair towel-dried and ears similarly damp. It looked like he haphazardly threw on a wrinkly gray sleep shirt and sweatpants, Y/N realizing she must have caught him just out of the shower. The reality of that had her stomach flipping over, sheepishly cowering by his desk as he tossed his towel into the hamper and turned the volume down on his Walkman. 

“Is that tape one of the ones you got from the music store last time?” Y/N tried not to snort at the reediness of Bob Dylan’s croon, Namjoon meeting her at his desk and stubbing out the burning stick of incense. “I thought you only saved the ones that weren’t grating,” Y/N recalled Namjoon’s comment from that day, which seemed years ago, with a fond, teasing smile. 

Namjoon shook his head with a playful grimace, catching her gaze out of the corner of his eyes. He smelled really good, homey and masculine, and he was close enough for Y/N to try and pick out the top notes of his body wash: honey, musk, pine?

“Believe me. Dylan was one of the least grating of the bunch,” Namjoon responded, a dimple appearing on his cheek as the corner of his mouth curled up into a smirk. “Besides. ‘Visions Of Johanna’ is one of the most beautiful songs ever written. Lyrically speaking.”

“I’ll make sure to give it a listen, if that’s what you think,” Y/N automatically responded, already adding the song to a queue on her phone. Lately, she’d been getting really fantastic music recommendations from each hybrid, which was a lovely thing to share with them. It allowed her a tiny window into all of their different, complex personalities. “Dinner’s ready, by the way. Wanted to grab you before I headed to the kitchen.”

“I know. Yoongi texted all of us,” Namjoon reached down to ruffle Y/N’s hair, as if she was being silly for even telling him. 

“Oh, really?” Y/N squeaked quietly, following Namjoon around his bedroom like a lost puppy. He was tidying up, something Y/N noticed he tended to do before bed (otherwise, he’d be sleeping with encyclopedias and chess pieces). “Hoseok texted me…”

“Yeah, in the group chat,” Namjoon murmured distractedly, not minding that Y/N was hovering behind him like a phantom while he stacked loose pieces of parchment onto his nightstand, her eyebrows furrowing. “That’s usually how Yoongi lets us know food is ready.”

Y/N didn’t know how to respond. Apparently, all the hybrids had a group chat between one another, one that didn’t include her, and she didn’t quite know how to feel about that. She wasn’t even sure if Namjoon realized that he had revealed a secret– perhaps it wasn’t and she was just unobservant– but he sensed something was up when she was quiet, looking over his shoulder inquisitively. 

“What’s the matter? You look like I just stole candy from you,” Namjoon accused, though his eyes were soft and filled with concern. “Your eyes are a little puffy, too, have you been crying? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Namjoon, I’m okay. Just tired, is all,” Y/N didn’t even care if Namjoon could sniff out her lie, considering everything she had gone through that day. She didn’t have a shred of energy left to try and hide her emotions from her hybrids, and Namjoon usually wasn’t one to pry, so she prayed he’d take the hint. “Let’s go eat, okay?”

Before she could get too far, Namjoon caught a hold of her shoulders, two large palms settling over the joints and spinning her around so he could get a good look at her face. She was shaking, slightly, under his strong grip, eager to escape the scrutiny of those penetrating eyes of his. 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but don’t lie to me. If you’re upset, at least don’t try to cover it all up,” Namjoon said firmly, leveling a stern look her way. 

“Joon, please…” Y/N used her hands to ease his off of her, resigned. “It’s nothing, just some stress. I’ll be fine after I get some sleep tonight.”

Namjoon looked unconvinced, some unknown emotion flashing through his eyes, Y/N squeezing his hands before releasing them. She swore she could hear low growling coming from deep within his chest, but he composed himself and lightly cleared his throat, jerking his head towards the hallway. 

“Okay, I’ll drop it,” Namjoon began heading out to the foyer, Y/N close behind. “Maybe you should read a book before bed to relax and get some good sleep. You’re really tense, I felt it in your shoulders. Have Yoongi make you some tea, too.”

Jolting at the mention of the very hybrid causing her rise in blood pressure, Y/N made a noncommittal noise. On the other hand, Namjoon’s kind consideration and concern for her well-being had butterflies coasting in her stomach. 

“You’re sweet, Joonie,” Y/N murmured, mirroring his earlier action by reaching up high to ruffle his still-damp starlight hair. “Pick out a book for me, please?”

Though he was in front of her leading the way to the kitchen, Y/N could see the very tips of his human ears turn red as he grunted out an embarrassed ‘okay’. Namjoon, she found out, was more of a softie than she originally understood. Besides, he always picked out excellent books she’s never read before, which was a bonus. 

The kitchen was warm and thick with the smell of roasted chicken and buttery, cheesy pasta, Y/N’s mouth watering against her will. Spite started to well up inside of her, surpassing her confusion and melancholy, and she desperately prayed to the sky that somehow Yoongi had screwed up the seasoning so she would have an excuse to not enjoy his food. Following Namjoon with a swish of his silvery tail, Y/N begrudgingly slunk further into the room. 

She caught sight of Taehyung first, seated at the breakfast nook by himself, adjusting settings on the camera strapped around his neck. His hair was wild and curly like he just washed it, a vibrant multicolored, vintage-looking sweater slipping over his wrists giving him sweater paws. Cooing, Y/N made a beeline for the Kodiak hybrid– trying with all her might to appear as unaffected as Yoongi took garlic bread out of the oven and shot the breeze with Jimin about the cold weather. Taehyung was a more than wonderful distraction.

“Hi, Tae,” Y/N scooched into the booth, having no trouble cozying up to his furnacelike side, his chest rumbling as he instinctively used one of his arms to hook around her shoulders and pull her closer. “Working on something for the next expo? It’s a week before Christmas, right?”

Smiling with his mouth closed, Taehyung let Y/N wiggle closer into his warmth, wordlessly passing his camera over and resting his nose in her hair as she took it gingerly. Being pressed up so closely against him, Y/N could feel his chest expand with the deep inhale he took, Y/N so used to him and Jimin taking a whiff of her hair daily that it didn’t even register as odd to her anymore. Turning on the camera’s display, Y/N flicked through a couple of Taehyung’s latest works, his editing more streamlined than ever before and each shot more creative than the next. The subjects were images of nature, primarily the backyard and around the neighborhood, but taken from unique angles and using natural light in interesting ways. 

“You’re getting so good at this, Tae. Pretty soon, you’ll have people asking to take wedding pictures for them!” Y/N passed his camera back to him, resisting the urge to totally curl into him or climb into his lap. He was just too cuddly. 

“Thank you,” Taehyung now offered her his toothy smile, wide and showing just how beautiful it made his face, conveying joy contrary to his ever-so-quiet voice. “I still need to work on taking portraits. That’s the assignment for next week…”

“Well it’s fortunate that you live with seven other people to practice on, huh?” Y/N teased, loving the flush that dusted his cheeks and tip of his nose. 

Their moment was interrupted by a black shadow, Y/N somewhat peeling herself off of Taehyung a tad to look up. It wasn’t a black shadow at all, however, it was just Jeongguk– dressed all in black, naturally, and with an enormous bowl of pasta and chicken in his hands. 

“How was your day, Jeongguk? The Tarantino movies you guys were watching… which one was your favorite?” Y/N reached across the table to poke the top of his hand with each word she was speaking to capture his attention, knowing that doing so usually irritated him enough to answer her questions. Since Halloween, though, he’d been much less easily perturbed, and usually regarded her attempts to agitate with amused midnight-black eyes. 

“Kill Bill. The first one, not the second. Pulp Fiction was good, but didn’t live up to all of that bullshit hype college kids drone on and on about,” Jeongguk playfully slapped her hand away from him so he could pick up a fork and start eating, a tiny wry grin pulling up the corners of his mouth. 

“I don’t think I really liked any of them,” a new voice joined the conversation, Seokjin filling up the last empty space in the booth beside Y/N, miraculously balancing three bowls of pasta on his forearm to deliver to Y/N and Taehyung. “Gory, lots of swearing and violence.”

“Grow some balls, Pink Panther,” Jeongguk rolled his eyes, Y/N finding it extremely difficult not to laugh– he was quick on his feet to come up with that nickname, since Seokjin was wearing his favorite ballet-pink hoodie. “Why am I surprised? You could barely make it through an episode of Tokyo Ghoul, and that’s fuckin’ animated blood.”

“Oh, leave him be, Jeongguk. Action or gore isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, and that’s totally okay,” Y/N emphasized her point by using her slipper-clad foot to collide lightly with his shin under the booth, a free hand coming up to smooth over Seokjin’s back affectionately. “Also, it’s hard to take you seriously when you’re talking over a mouthful of half-chewed chicken.”

There was Seokjin’s squeaky-sounding laugh coming from her right, Jeongguk rolling his eyes again, taking a swig of whatever cocktail he had made for himself. Looking down at the food Yoongi made and Seokjin had brought to her, she felt her stomach turning. While it looked and smelled delicious, she didn’t want to give Yoongi the satisfaction of horking the whole plate down right away. Instead, she watched everyone in the booth tuck in promptly, Y/N glowering at her slab of garlic bread with feigned disinterest. 

“Not hungry?” Taehyung’s voice was in her ear, as always, low and indulgently rich. Concern lit up his eyes, his fork and knife paused mid-air as he studied the side of her face, even giving an animalistic sniff in her direction. 

“I had a big lunch,” Y/N admitted, even though that was a bit of a lie. She had been so nervous about her piano lesson with Yoongi earlier in the day, all she could choke down at lunchtime was a handful of baby carrots and hummus. 

Taehyung lifted a brow, definitely not buying the lie, but let it go without a word, mercifully. Y/N discovered that keeping her emotions under wraps from everybody while thoughts of Yoongi swirled around in her head constantly was more challenging than anything she had dealt with before. 

Yoongi’s words kept echoing like a pagan chant in her ears: ‘I know how you feel. About us, all of us’. Was Yoongi that keen, already able to intimately decipher her emotions and feelings through scent alone, or was she painfully obvious about her embarrassingly large crushes on each hybrid she adopted? Flames licked her cheeks, and she afforded a look past Seokjin’s wide shoulders to Yoongi sitting beside Jimin at the island, his back to her. Even now, Y/N could detect a whisper of tension threading through the lean muscles of his back through his shirt, and though she was puzzled– at best– by everything that went down between them in the last few hours, she was pleased to see how much he had filled out with muscle between consistent meals and his basketball practices. 

Sighing lightly, Y/N picked her way through her meal once tearing her eyes from Yoongi, not wanting to attract more attention by not eating dinner. Besides, her stomach was beginning to make embarrassing rumbling sounds, earning an annoyed side-eye from Namjoon across the room, pointedly using the tip of his nose to gesture towards her untouched plate. She resisted the split-second impulse to stick her tongue out at him, reconsidering upon remembering how intimidating Namjoon could be when teased. 

Throughout dinner, Y/N distracted herself from her thoughts and the lack of typical banter she’d have with Yoongi by cozying up to Seokjin and Taehyung; asking them about their preferences for birthday meals during fast-approaching December. Jeongguk asked her if she happened to celebrate Christmas– she replied yes; while her and her mother celebrated the pagan holiday of Yule, her father was more of a traditionalist and loved Christmas. 

“Yule lasts several days, and is made up of just some quiet rituals and whatnot– burning a Yule log, for example. But my dad adores all of the fun traditions of Christmas he had growing up, so he wanted to share that with me, too. We’d deck out the house in all of the lights, bake a thousand Christmas cookies, go out every year to pick out a tree… watch holiday movies in corny matching pajamas. My mom called it ‘Commercial Christmas’, but it was always really fun, and she was just poking fun at how silly my dad can get with it,” Y/N explained to the elk hybrid, him nodding along to her words while pushing broccoli around on his plate. “Oh! And there’s a Holiday Market in the city, too, if you guys are interested in checking that out next month. Food, decorations, music, all of that.”

It dawned on Y/N that her hybrids had likely never celebrated Christmas in the way she had in her youth. She had similar thoughts before, based on each of their strange, varied behaviors during the last three birthdays and Halloween, as well. It had her lower lip jutting out slightly, and she knew that perhaps the reason she worked so hard to make these events extra special in the past few months was because she was making up for their lost years of merriment and celebration of milestones. 

Dwelling on that, she totally zoned out at the breakfast nook, only coming to when Seokjin collected her near-empty plate from her, snapping back to reality when he stood and her hand slipped from the middle of his back, where she was absently rubbing circles into the cozy material of his hoodie. All the jaguar hybrid did was flash her a sweet smile, bringing the dishes to the sink with a purr. 

Shaking off her nerves, Y/N also rose from her seat, taking Taehyung with her so she’d have an excuse to cling to someone (and avoid Yoongi), by pulling him by the loose sleeve of his sweater, the Kodiak hybrid happily being hauled away from his camera and half-drunk glass of wine. Taehyung was one of the hybrids that didn’t drink as much as the others, or even Y/N herself, so sometimes a half of a glass of wine was all he needed for a pretty flush to color his cheeks and his tongue to loosen. 

“What are we watching tonight, Y/N? Nothing scary, I pray?” Y/N managed to scoop Jimin up in her grasp, as well, his expression filled with trepidation as she sandwiched herself between the two hybrids and dragged them into the parlor. 

The fire was roaring, and Taehyung broke free from her hold on his sweater to add another log to the tall flames in the fireplace– he was very serious about keeping it going strong until everyone headed off to bed, like it was an unspoken household duty he felt responsible for completely. Thankfully, he was quick to return to her, eager to claim one of the spots on either of her sides before anyone else could. As Ben had joked about over the phone with her, the hybrids did almost claw at each other in order to get a seat next to her on the couch, even Jeongguk, at that point. With Jimin and Taehyung being the ‘lucky’ ones that night, Y/N didn’t have to worry about sitting awkwardly inches away from Yoongi. 

“No, sweet pea, nothing scary. Just for you and Hoseok, though… on second thought, Seokjinnie, too. I’ll save the horror marathons for another time. I was thinking we could watch something funny?” 

Jimin’s shoulders relaxed downwards several inches, and his ears perked back up to their natural position as he handed her the remote, soothed that she wasn’t about to repeat her surprise showing of Suspiria from last month. Hoseok had to leave the room during the last few scenes of that one, in fact. 

Y/N scrolled through the options in her digital library, avoiding romcoms at all costs, landing on some random comedy with Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn. She needed something mindless, something that required not much critical thinking, so she could forget about the tangled cobwebs clogging up the cavity that once held her brain. 

The room slowly filled up with the rest of the hybrids, Hoseok tossing wrapped Klondike bars to everyone, Jeongguk taking up the recliner; Namjoon took his usual seat at Y/N’s feet, while Seokjin and Yoongi ended up sitting on the floor next to the couch. Yoongi minded his business, not even sending Y/N a glance as he sank to the floor with his glass of wine. Seokjin didn’t seem pleased that he was so far from Y/N, but knew that her rotating who she sat next to was in an effort to be fair– and he respected that. 

“I know how you feel. About us, all of us.”

“Ben, can you just listen before you say ‘I told you so’?” Y/N stirred cream into her coffee, her lower eyelid twitching when she tasted the concoction on her tongue. Somehow, ever since Yoongi started making her coffee for her each morning, she couldn’t seem to make her favorite ratio quite as precise as he did– even though she had been making it perfectly fine years before he took up the task for her. “I’ll let you say it all you want after I get some of this off my chest.”

Saturday morning, Y/N met up with Ben in the city at their favorite brunch spot on Newbury street, leaving all of her hybrids at home for a lazy morning by themselves. It was rare these days that she’d carve out time to go out with her human friends without at least one of the boys tagging along with her, but miraculously, she was able to break free for a few hours to catch up– or vent– with Ben. Ben cocked an eyebrow at her, taking a measured sip of his mimosa.

“I can do that, but first–” Ben reached into his briefcase, rummaging around within the depths of the leather bag, boldly pulling out a nip of Kahlua and swiftly dumping it into Y/N’s coffee. “You look like you’re one inconvenience away from a nervous breakdown. Happy Saturday, have a drink.”

“Thanks,” Y/N grimaced, sucking down the entirety of the scalding, now spiked, coffee in one go, Ben waving his hand as if to say ‘don’t mention it’. “Christ, I don’t even know where to start…”

Y/N had spent the night tossing and turning, even after the stupid movie she watched with the hybrids and a few shots of gin, waking up with dark circles under her eyes and two hours of sleep under her belt. In those two hours, she had dreams of red curtains, whiskey-scented whispers, piano, and hazel, feline eyes. 

“I think I have an idea of where this is going,” Ben broke the ice after several moments, once the waiter came by to take their brunch orders and bring another round of drinks. This time, Y/N got herself a mimosa, too. “Let me guess. You fell for one of them.”

Y/N felt her stomach drop, the Kahlua, coffee, and champagne churning in her gut as Ben stared at her expectantly. Ben was always quick to pick up on how Y/N felt, particularly when it had to do with her romantic life, but it wasn’t like she was around him enough these days for him to observe her around all of her hybrids… fell for one? She had to laugh, and the sound came out snorted and pathetic. 

“Oh, it’s worse than I thought. More than one? Taking cues from those reverse-harem animes you used to love in high school, huh?” Ben pressed, his nose scrunching up upon hearing the braying donkey laugh Y/N was trying to cover up by chugging her mimosa, a swig of it going down her windpipe. 

“Nnn–ugh! Fuck me, Ben. Lower your voice,” Y/N coughed into her cloth napkin, frantically glancing around the restaurant as if she was being surveilled.

“Relax, Y/N, they’re not even here. They can’t hear you all the way from the Haunted Mansion, even with hybrid ears. Get on with it, spill. You’ll feel better,” Ben pushed a hand through his coiffed red hair, sucking his teeth as he assessed Y/N’s frazzled appearance and erratic behavior. She must have looked like a nutcase. 

“I… Stop looking at me like that! If you’re so smart, you must have pieced together everything already, so why bother?” Y/N accused, but when Ben simply hardened his cerulean gaze, Y/N knew that he was encouraging her to talk through her feelings rather than squirreling them away until she exploded. “Fine. Yeah, okay. I have a crush on them, all of them, as a matter of fact, if that’s even humanly possible… and I know what you’re thinking, I’m batshit, I’m gross, and I’ve put myself in a horrible scenario.”

“Y/N, will you just take a breath, please? We’ve been friends for over a decade. Nothing you say to me is going to scare me off or make me ‘shame’ you Cersei-Game-of-Thrones-style. So, you’re attracted to all seven of them? I mean seriously, Y/N, I can’t blame you, and if you called Laura or Alice, they wouldn’t either. They’re all gorgeous,” Ben leaned back in his seat, both seriousness and amusement dancing across his features. 

Y/N wrestled the champagne bottle resting in the tableside bucket of ice up and out of the shards, pouring herself another glass and completely ignoring the orange juice pitcher nearby that would make her mimosa, well, a mimosa. 

“You know, Y/N… humans and hybrids can be in romantic relationships, and before you fly off of the handle, let me finish! Listen, I know, you know, and your hybrids know that you didn’t adopt them to use-and-abuse, obviously. You’ve always been a romantic, Y/N, it’s not like you can control how you feel, especially when it comes to love.”

Processing this, Y/N gawked at Ben, suddenly unable to come up with any kind of retort. Their waiter came by with their food, and the smell of Y/N’s French toast made her utterly nauseous as soon as it was placed in front of her. Grimacing, she pushed the plate to the side, Ben smirking over a bite of crispy bacon. 

“Love…” Y/N squeaked, the four-letter-word wheezing from her chest painfully, Ben having the nerve to roll his eyes. 

“You do love them, don’t you? Besides the fact that it's obvious to me, as your wonderful best friend, when you fall, you fall hard,” Ben nudged Y/N’s plate back in front of her, sticking a fork in her hand with mischief in his eyes. “It’s a different kind of love– but I love Daisy, she’s my daughter, and I can’t imagine my life without her anymore. That must be similar to how you feel, no?” 

For at least a month, Y/N kept herself in blissful, complete denial, trying to squash down her feelings as best she could in an effort to keep them from the hybrids. She didn’t know if she was fooling them, because she definitely wasn’t fooling Ben, who looked like he was trying to refrain from laughing. The more she thought about her recent behavior; stuttering, blushing, heart racing, constant cuddling, the more stupid she felt. 

“God, I’m a moron,” Y/N stuffed a piece of French toast into her dried-out mouth, the consistency like glue as she chewed. “They probably already know and are just too nice to reject me. Or they’re scared to.”

Ben didn’t say anything, just letting Y/N come to terms with the startling realization: she loved them. Seven different men, she was in love with seven, and the gravity of that realization was driving her to silent lunacy.

“Whatever scenario you’re coming up with in your head, stop it, you’ll start panicking,” Ben reached across the table to grasp Y/N’s hand lightly, his thumb smoothing over the back of it. “It’s kind of a scary, tricky… uh, delicate, subject, but how would you feel about maybe just talking to them about it instead of bottling things up? Even at the cookout in August, I could tell most of them cared about you quite deeply.”

“Can you imagine that conversation, Ben? ‘Hey guys, I know we’re in the middle of dinner and it’s not like you can get away from me after this, but I accidentally fell in love with all of you, so that’s why I’ve been walking around like a bumbling idiot’,” Y/N hissed, her face going hot just by visualizing that scene in her head. “Also, I haven’t even told you what happened yesterday, and if a confession to the seven of them went anything like what went down last night, I’d have to move to a rock out in the middle of the sea.”

 Motioning for her to explain, Y/N launched into the long, complicated report on her interaction with Yoongi post piano lesson, speaking in a hurried and hushed tone. Ben listened carefully, but Y/N chose to leave out some of the more supernatural aspects of her first meeting with Yoongi in The Black Lodge– Ben was a skeptic, at best, so she told him she had gotten too drunk and forgot about meeting Yoongi. By the time she had ended her story with how Yoongi seemed to be acting like nothing happened, Ben’s eyebrows were knitted and their breakfasts had long since been polished off and forgotten. 

“Uh…” Ben leaned back in his seat after he was stunned speechless for several moments, robotically passing his credit card to the waiter, his free hand coming up to rub his close-cut beard. “You weren’t bullshitting me with that text last night. That’s a lot to unpack.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. He pretty much revealed to me that he knows I’m crushing on them all, totally called me out on it. Even went as far as saying it wouldn’t be long before the others figure it out, too,” Y/N moaned miserably into her hands, covering her face exhaustedly. 

“Y/N… from what you told me,” Ben started gently, as if he was trying not to spook a nervous animal. “I think Yoongi likes you too. I mean, he waited for a year for you to remember him, he said he enjoyed talking to you, and honey– he kissed you. You shouldn’t take that bit lightly, either. Predator hybrids like Yoongi, specifically the big cats or canines, are extremely selective when it comes to choosing their romantic partners. To them, it’s like finding their mate.”

“I– no. If that was the case, he would have told me, I’m sure of it. You’ve seen him, right? Met him? He’s gorgeous, funny, caring, can cook like a dream and is a talented pianist; he could have anybody he wants, and I’m not exempt from that, and he knows it… so that’s my reasoning, I guess.”

“Why are you spewing nonsense? You’re starting to tick me off. You were never this full of self doubt in the past, especially over a man. You have to talk to him about this, sooner rather than later. Tell him how you feel, and don’t beat around the bush. And even though I’m almost positive that he likes you romantically, you two need to sort it out before the others catch on and it spirals into something even more tangled,” Ben, as they prepared to leave the restaurant, helped Y/N shrug into her coat, his hands on her shoulders as he gave her a necessary reality check– though his expression was sympathetic and full of concern. “I’ll help you out. I can borrow a couple of your guys on Monday to watch Daisy while I go into the office, and you see if you can somehow get Yoongi alone, okay?”

“Monday…” Y/N blanched, not prepared to throw caution to the wind and admit her feelings that soon. “I-I guess I can make that work. Seokjin and Joonie will be at the library with my mom for the book club, Tae at the rec center preparing for his next expo…”

“Alright. I’ll take the other three for babysitting– the cowboy, the grump, and Foxy, am I correct?” Ben attempted to lighten the mood, holding the restaurant door open for Y/N with a wry grin. “You can do this, Y/N. You’re a smart, beautiful young woman, and I know how much you love those boys. They all deserve to know how much you do– but start with Yoongi.”

Y/N made a noncommittal, grumbling noise, grinding her teeth as the bitter wind whipped through the streets of Boston. Autumn was nearly over, and the harsh winter was well on its way, Christmas decorations already beginning to pop up on certain storefronts. 

“If it goes to shit, I’m calling you. You know how I am with romantic confessions. Remember Liam in high school? I broke out in hives asking him to homecoming,” Y/N muttered, grabbing Ben’s hand and shoving their joined palms into his coat pocket, her best friend snickering at the memory. “Can we change the subject? I’m starting to feel itchy. You can still swing by Copley with me, right?”

“Yeah, I have some time. What are you going there for?” Ben steered her in a different direction than they were going, cutting through some side streets to get to the mall. 

“I’m picking up some things for Seokjin’s birthday, it’s coming up really soon. I found some cookware online I think he’d like, he’s been into culinary pursuits recently,” Y/N felt some of her anxiety dissipate as she thought about sweet Seokjin. He had pouted that morning when she left to meet Ben, and it was hard to pry him off of her as she was heading out the front door. 

“Oh! That reminds me. Has Sarah gotten in touch with you?” 

“She did, actually. We’re planning to meet at some point after the holidays, probably in January. I don’t know if I should tell Seokjin, or keep it a surprise for a little while…” Y/N bit her lip, recalling the pleasant email exchanges she had with the woman who had adopted Hannah. 

“With everything you’ve got going on right now, I think it’s alright to hold off on telling him until the plan is more concrete. Focus on the two birthdays you have coming up, Christmas, and sorting out the thing with Yoongi,” Ben shrugged, squeezing Y/N’s fingers as they ambled down the frosty sidewalk. 

“Shit. I have to order Christmas presents soon…” Y/N used her free hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, thanking the sky that she had that extra income from the boarded horses– gifts for seven hybrids and her other friends and family would certainly add up cost-wise. “I wish I had an assistant to keep track of everything I have to do.”

“Ah, you say that, but I haven’t seen you this happy in years, Y/N,” Ben countered, winking at her. “Even with all of the romantic drama, adopting those boys brought you back to life.”

“Stop being sappy, I’ll cry. Seriously, I will! They’re not around to fuss over me right now and I can do so freely, and that’s an opportunity I would take if you keep it up,” Y/N nudged Ben in the ribs, separating from him as they reached the revolving doors of Copley Place. 

Once in the toasty mall, she and Ben changed the direction of their conversation, Y/N feeling merry despite the looming task of confronting Yoongi in two day’s time. They made plans to have a holiday get-together at her house, with Roy and Daisy, and the Santos twins as well, all while piling items into a cart for Seokjin’s birthday. 

“Come on, sweets, won’t you do it for me?” Y/N was perched on the velvet bench at the foot of Jeongguk’s bed, attempting to convince him to go willingly to Ben’s for ‘babysitting’ early Monday afternoon. She tried to make her eyes as doelike as possible, Jeongguk chewing on his lip ring with his arms crossed, staring down at her. 

“That pouting doesn’t work on me. Go find literally anyone else in the house it does work on, Y/N,” Jeongguk tsked, pulling a few buttons loose on the creamy button-down he was wearing. 

“Okay, shithead. You want to be sassy today? Be my guest. Just saying though, Daisy has been asking for you. Ben says you’re one of her favorites,” Y/N bit back, just to see if guilting him was the way to go. Jeongguk simply shook his head, having the audacity to look amused by her outburst. She was already on edge, and his nonchalance and stubbornness did not make things better. “Maybe this will sweeten the pot. Ben said he was going to pay you guys.”

“Bribery, coercion, ass-kissing… you must really want me out of the house today,” Jeongguk drawled, turning away from Y/N as he used his floor-length mirror to clasp the necklace her mother gave him for his birthday around his neck. Through the thin material of his light-colored shirt, Y/N could faintly detect the black lines of the mystery tattoo on his back. 

“No, but it wouldn’t kill you, Jeongguk. Don’t you want to get out for a little bit? You, Hoseok, and Jimin can take Daisy to the playground in the Common, get some food, walk around…” Y/N refrained from flinching when the elk hybrid accurately called her out for shooing him out. 

“How the fuck can we go out without a human with us? Won’t the four of us get scooped up by agents and tossed back into Gerry’s shithole shelter? Besides, why does a four-year-old hybrid need three babysitters, aren’t Foxy and Blondie enough?” Jeongguk approached Y/N once more, using his thumb and forefinger to gently flick her forehead. 

“Ugh, you’re such a little shit,” Y/N rubbed the spot he flicked, even though it didn’t hurt at all. “I ordered you all ID’s, remember? They arrived this morning. If you get stopped, you show agents your ID, and it tells them that you’re adopted and can roam even without me being present. Daisy has one too, the version for children… She needed it for enrollment in her daycare.”

Jeongguk paused in contemplation, his eyes scanning her face thoughtfully as she squirmed on the bench under his scrutiny, one of his ears lazily twitching. It was a stare-down, Y/N needed to have that talk with Yoongi, and she wanted the conversation to be as private as possible, and Jeongguk seemed a touch suspicious. 

“You really want me to go babysit the bunny that badly?” Jeongguk narrowed his eyes, a spark of triumph lighting up inside of Y/N as she sensed him beginning to cave. 

“Yes, please! I’ll call in some baked ziti for you from Sal’s for dinner,” Y/N jumped to her feet, Jeongguk rolling his eyes and sticking his notebook into the pocket of his baggy black cargo pants. 

“Yeah, yeah. You’re only saying that because I’m doing you a favor, and you probably want pizza yourself, kiddo,” Jeongguk grunted as Y/N elbowed him in the ribs, scoffing at him indignantly. 

“I’m only like a year younger than you. ‘Kiddo’, really?” Y/N paused by his bedroom door, softening up once seeing the twinkle of merriment in Jeongguk’s dark eyes. 

Suddenly overwhelmed with affection for the elk hybrid, considering how much he had warmed up to her over the past few weeks, she leaned up on her tip-toes, lips brushing over his sharp cheekbone for a barely-there kiss while he froze to a complete stand-still. Pulling away as quickly as she could before he could say anything, she giggled at how round his eyes became before heading out to the hall. 

“Thanks for the favor, sweets. Ben will be here in 15 minutes to pick you and the other two up!” She called over her shoulder, hurrying away with the image of Jeongguk looking adorably stunned burned into her retinas. 

Bounding downstairs, Y/N managed to round up Jimin and Hoseok from the backyard, both of them more than willing to watch Daisy for a bit– the both of them practically doted on her. She handed out their new-and-shiny ID’s, Y/N smiling at the pictures on the cards. Staring at Jeongguk’s picture, with a serious expression on his face, she snorted at the way his antlers didn’t quite fit in the frame. 

“Tae did a nice job with all of your photos for these, huh?” Y/N gushed, brushing her fingertips over the tiny picture on Namjoon’s ID, which she’d have to give to him later. “Next time I get my license renewed, I want him to take my picture too, I always look washed out and horrendous in the ones taken at the DMV.”

“I doubt that, Y/N. You always look nice in pictures, even the ones Taehyung takes of you,” Jimin disagreed with her, grinning when she pinched his fleshy cheek bashfully. 

“Such a charmer, Jiminie. Aw, her heart’s racing,” Hoseok crooned, squeezing himself in between her and the coyote hybrid, a wicked smirk on his face as he patted his chest to mimic heartbeats.

Hissing, Y/N tried to step away from the teasing bastard, even more humiliated now, but Hoseok was far too quick for her to make a feeble human’s attempt at escape. Boldly, he grabbed her by the belt loops of her jeans, bending low to press one of his ears over her heart. Squeaking as she wiggled in his grasp, a few of his fingertips slipping into the waistband of her jeans to keep her in place, his skin burning hot with hybrid heat. 

“Hear that, Jiminie? It’s beating even faster now!” Hoseok continued gleefully, squeezing the flesh over her hip bones before he– mercifully– pulled away. “How cute, darling, you’re way too easy to flatter, and even easier to tease.”

“Hoseok,” Y/N used all of her strength to prevent herself from melting into the floorboards, not even noticing that Jimin’s shoulders were shaking with laughter and Jeongguk had crept into the foyer during the spectacle. “Stop fucking with me, the playing field isn’t even. I can’t hear your heartbeat, or smell your embarrassment, or whatever.”

“You could always try flattery, you have a knack for it,” Jeongguk leaned against the front door, seemingly recovered from the smooch she planted on his cheek only moments ago. 

“Brat,” Y/N sneered, though it was half hearted, and she was interrupted by a three-beat honk from outside. “Ooh, Ben’s here. Okay, I think you two have poked enough fun at me, get going. See you soon, sweetheart, have fun and be safe.”

Y/N murmured her last statement directly to Jimin, using a hand to shove Hoseok towards Jeongguk and out of the front door. Patting Jimin’s shoulder lightly, she leaned up to whisper into his ear. 

“You’re in charge, make sure those two don’t swear in front of Daisy, please,” though Y/N was whispering in Jimin’s ear, she was the one shivering with the proximity, intoxicating, dark lavender filling her senses and calming her steadily-climbing anxiety; it was almost time for her to look for Yoongi, who she hadn’t seen the entire day. 

“See you later, Y/N,” Jimin grinned like he knew something she didn’t, craning his neck sideways to press a kiss to one of her knuckles, her hand turning clammy as it slipped from his shoulder when he strolled out the front door. 

Y/N stood in the threshold of the door, watching the three hybrids get into Ben’s car, and stayed until Ben drove off down the street. The silence that followed their departure was eerie, Y/N wondering if Yoongi was taking a nap or was even in the house at all. Typically, during the early afternoon, the leopard hybrid would be messing around on the piano or reading a book in the parlor, but there was no music coming from upstairs and the heavily trafficked parlor was deserted and dark. Sighing, Y/N started to stack logs into the fireplace, knowing if Taehyung came home later and there was no fire, he’d be upset. She knew that she was stalling the inevitable, finding Yoongi and having the conversation she had been dreading for 48 hours, but she tried to summon courage to face him from the growing flames in the fireplace. 

Once she had mustered enough nerve, Y/N wandered through the house to find Yoongi. She searched every nook and cranny, every back hallway and hidden passageway, but clearly he wasn’t inside. Muttering under her breath, she dropped some clean laundry off in Namjoon’s room, pulling on the sherpa-lined jean jacket he had draped over his desk chair to prepare herself for traipsing around the yard. Inhaling Namjoon’s scent on the collar of his jacket, the oversized fabric swallowing her whole, she felt warmth fill her up with the notes of honey and Namjoon. 

“Fuck, it’s cold,” Y/N whimpered as soon as she opened the slider to the backyard, wrapping Namjoon’s coat more tightly around her torso. In the distance, horses were whinnying in the stable, and there were some creepy looking turkey vultures sitting in the naked oak tree next to the picnic table. “Where’s my angel…”

The sky was a gloomy gray, and Y/N wondered if snow was on the way with the way the frost-dusted grass was crunching under her feet. That quiet, still sensation just before a snowstorm was present, as well, which is why the echoing sound of a basketball striking asphalt made her jolt in surprise. Bingo. 

Weaving her way past the gate to the driveway and garage, Y/N let out a nervous breath, becoming a misty cloud of white in front of her. The turkey vultures in the oak tree started making their disturbing, guttural shrieks, sending a chill down her spine. Quickening her pace, butterflies started fluttering in her stomach as the basketball hoop came into view. 

Aware that Yoongi could both hear and smell her, she paused several feet away, eyes sweeping the area for the leopard hybrid. He was just there, she was sure of it, but he was nowhere in sight. 

“Yoongi? Where are you?” Y/N called, annoyed with the possibility that he was avoiding her on purpose. She knelt down, numb fingers grasping the acid-washed hoodie Yoongi must have tossed onto the ground, when a pair of sneakers appeared in her line of vision, she glanced up at the owner, swearing colorfully. 

Yoongi was staring down at her, basketball tucked under his arm, very sweaty and very much without a shirt. Mouth drying up, she felt a range of emotions flood through her; fluster, affection, happiness, concern, before finally landing on anger. 

“Oh my god, it’s like thirty degrees out here! Put this on,” Y/N impulsively threw his sweatshirt at him, hitting him square in the chest before it unceremoniously fell back onto the pavement. 

“I was too hot. Hybrid body heat, silly girl,” Yoongi replied simply, his old nickname for her making a comeback. Unfortunately for Y/N, paired with his damp, long hair and naked chest, it sent a bolt of arousal through her unexpectedly. Hopefully he couldn’t smell it. “What’s up? Where is everyone?”

Y/N read between the lines– that was Yoongi’s newest code for ‘find one of the others, I don’t want to talk to you’. Gritting her teeth, she managed to straighten up, forcing herself to look him in the eyes and not the dewy skin over his collarbones. 

“They’re all out. It’s just you and I, at the moment,” Y/N cleared her throat, getting a strong blast of vanilla-and-cloves as Yoongi passed a veiny hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “Please, for my sake, put on the sweatshirt. I don’t want you turning into a popsicle.”

“Nah,” Yoongi turned away from her, dribbling the ball and aiming to shoot it into the basket, his tail curling around his leg as it usually did when he’d play. “Why, don’t like what you see?”

Y/N’s eyes glazed over as she watched the muscles in his back move and flex, effortlessly sinking the ball into the basket and elegantly slinking to the hoop to retrieve the ball before it could bounce away. The pale skin of his chest was slightly flushed pink, making Y/N’s mouth water, and all at once she felt like a creep. 

“Cat’s got your tongue?” Yoongi drawled, his gravelly voice raising goosebumps on her flesh. Apparently, her hybrids felt like toying with her that day. 

Steeling herself, she approached Yoongi with determination, forgetting all about his sweatshirt, his expression growing curious and spotted ears flattening against his head at their proximity.

“Are you avoiding me again? We never finished our… conversation,” Y/N began, chickening out on professing her love right away, considering his lack of a shirt. 

“You reek like the wolf,” Yoongi dodged the question and subject entirely, moving like he was going to take another shot at the hoop. Before he could get far, Y/N reached out and yanked the basketball out of his hands, scowling. 

“We need to talk, Yoongi. You’ve hardly been able to stand in the same room as me longer than five minutes since that night,” Y/N averted her eyes from his face, finding it hard to look at him with all the emotions running through her. 

Yoongi sighed, the sound of it seemingly coming from the depths of his soul, scooping his sweatshirt off of the ground and shrugging it on. 

“Let’s go inside. Seokjin would die if he saw you out here without a hat,” Yoongi mumbled, resigned, and motioned for Y/N to follow him into the house. 

They were quiet, Y/N’s pulse thundering in her ears, positively dreading the conversation they were about to have. If Yoongi rejected her, she’d have to lock herself in her room to cry and  lick her wounds for hours, but if he didn’t… how on earth would she explain the situation between her and Yoongi to the others?

“So, what is there to ‘finish’ about our conversation?” Yoongi broke the silence as he followed her up to the music room– the most soundproof room in the house, lest someone come home early and interrupt them. Yoongi sounded bitter, like the words on his tongue tasted of grave dirt, Y/N wincing knowing that she was the cause of it. “I thought we wrapped it up already. What’s the use of beating a dead horse? We met before, you forgot, we kissed, now we’re here. End of story.”

“No, Yoongi, it’s not. I–” Y/N cut herself off, sinking down onto the couch with her head in her hands. “Let me apologize, first. I don’t want you to think that our kiss was a drunken mistake to me. I shouldn’t have insinuated that. I’m sorry, angel.”

Yoongi stiffened, at either her words or her nickname for him, she didn’t know. He remained standing in front of her, ears perked up and alert, hands shoved into the pocket of his hoodie. 

“I’m sorry I can’t remember. Believe me, I want to, more than anything. I’ve been having dreams, though, flashes of a memory. Maybe it will return to me, in time,” Y/N peeked at Yoongi through her fingertips, nervously chewing on her lip. 

“Y/N–” 

“Please, just, can you hear me out for a minute?” Y/N interrupted whatever warning he was undoubtedly trying to dole out, desperate to get it over with before she lost her nerve. “Last time we talked about this, you said you knew how I felt, about you, about the others, but I changed the subject.”

Yoongi nodded, his eyes narrowing and arms crossing over his chest, waiting for her to continue. Taking a deep breath, Y/N dropped her hands from her face, finally making eye-contact with the leopard hybrid, who appeared to be taking in all of her micro reactions. 

“You were right, or are right, about my feelings. I’m only starting to, um, understand those feelings, but you noticed them before I even realized they were there,” Y/N fidgeted with her fingers in her lap, growing hot in the face. “I’m sorry for hiding it, and I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Met with silence, Y/N’s worst fear was coming to life; he was going to reject her, their relationship would be permanently damaged, and her heart was going to shatter. Yoongi simply stared at her with that sharp feline gaze, a muscle in his jaw working and his expression giving away nothing as two what he was thinking. 

“I don’t want to lie to you anymore, and it’s totally fine that you don’t feel the same way, but I need to tell you,” Y/N’s voice became shaky, heart feeling like it was going to explode, ready to careen off the edge of no return. “I love you, Yoongi.”

The world went still, not even the birds outside chirping, and Y/N wasn’t confident that she was breathing anymore. Without a word, Yoongi turned on his heel, plopped down on the bench and slid a hand over the weathered keys of the piano. Baffled and heartbroken, Y/N sat frozen on the couch, stiff as a board and head spinning. 

Before her vision could go black, Yoongi began to play. Eyes snapping open, she couldn’t help the gasp that ripped from her chest; Yoongi was playing the song he had composed, the one he previously wouldn’t perform for her even upon her countless requests to. Though his face was blank of emotion, his playing certainly wasn’t, and the song almost breathed air as his hands floated across the keys. It was one of the most beautiful songs she had ever heard, so much so that she wasn’t even aware that she was crying until she felt the hot tears tracking down her cheeks. 

It was over too soon, the final note ringing out solemnly, Yoongi standing from the bench and heading towards the door, his ears flat against his head again. He stopped, hand twitching over the doorknob when he heard Y/N sniffle pathetically, looking over his shoulder. Heart bursting into smithereens at the look of anguish on his face, Y/N wanted to rush over to him, but couldn’t bear looking at him any longer. 

“I wrote that the day after we met. The first thing I composed in years. I wrote it for you.”

With that, Yoongi left the room, Y/N feeling her tears run down her neck, listening to the sound of him closing the door to his bedroom and turning on the tap to his shower. 

“So Y/N, it wasn’t exactly a rejection,” Laura soothed through the phone, Y/N humming noncommittally. She was in her car in the driveway, several days later, Seokjin’s birthday, his birthday cake sitting on the passenger seat beside her. 

“I don’t know what the fuck it was. He’s been walking around the house like a fucking ghost for days now, I think I broke him,” Y/N ran a hand through her hair, not believing that she had to resort to taking phone calls in her car to avoid eavesdropping. “I set out to see if I could fix things, or tell him my feelings, but now everything is even more messed up. I don’t know what to do.”

“Give him time, honey. He shouldn’t be leaving you hanging like that, but maybe it’s a lot to process for him. Your hybrids have been through a lot, he probably wasn’t expecting you to confront him,” Laura theorized, making Y/N snort. She had just accepted that Yoongi had been weirded out and didn’t reciprocate her feelings, but she humored Laura anyway. 

“Yeah, I know. I’ll keep you updated, I guess,” Y/N replied airily, eyes landing on the pink buttercream frosting spelling out Seokjin’s name on his cake, a small smile spreading across her face despite everything. “I gotta run, Laura. Have to round everyone up for Seokjin’s brunch.”

“Keep me updated!” Laura exclaimed urgently, Y/N grunting in response, before hanging up and hauling herself outside. She moved Seokjin’s cake to the trunk where his gifts were, making room for him to sit next to her during the ride to the restaurant. 

Y/N: Time to go! Reservation is at noon &lt;3

Hoseok 🦊: Jinnie looks so handsome on his birthday 🤧

Seokjinnie 🌸: -_-

Jimin 🦋: We’re coming!

Y/N: Can one of you please lock the door on the way out

Joonie 🐺: I got it.

Making sure the heat was cranked up in the cab for Seokjin, she watched the front door like a hawk, waiting for everyone to file out. They came out in pairs, first Jimin and Taehyung, then Hoseok and Seokjin. Last out was Jeongguk and Yoongi, followed by Namjoon diligently locking the door and even giving the handle a jiggle to ensure it was deadbolted. Feeling warm all over at the sight of them, all dressed up in their unique styles, Y/N grinned, even though her heart was still bleeding for Yoongi. She pushed that aside, for now, for Seokjin, determined to give him the best birthday ever. 

“It’s so cold! Fuckin’ Boston weather,” Hoseok whined, the first one to the car, sliding in the seat behind Y/N. “Would moving to Florida ever be an option?” 

“Hell no,” Y/N twisted her face up in disgust even thinking about swampy Florida summers. “We can visit someday, though. Go to Disney World or something.”

“Where are your gloves?” Seokjin climbed into the passenger seat, Namjoon begrudgingly giving up his designated spot for the birthday boy, pointedly narrowing his orange eyes at her bare hands on the steering wheel. 

“Oh, somewhere in the house. I don’t need them, we’re going from the car to the restaurant,” Y/N blushed when he took her hands in his, his thick lips puckering to blow warm air onto them. “Happy birthday, my Seokjinnie!”

“You’re old as fuck,” Jeongguk commented from the third row of seats, his hair slicked back with gel as Y/N glared at him in the rearview mirror. “30? Judas priest.”

“Have some respect for your elders, fuckface,” Hoseok defended Seokjin, a lazy smile on his face when Y/N turned around to back out of her spot in front of the house. 

“Please, stop swearing,” Jimin pinched the bridge of his nose delicately, making Y/N snort. 

She drove one-handed to the restaurant, one of them captured by Seokjin, who was doing the thing where he lightly traced his fingertips over her skin in endless patterns. He was purring, too, Y/N stealing glances of him every once in a while– Hoseok was right, he looked unbearably handsome. Shiny, wavy raven hair, a cozy plum-colored sweater, and his expression content and relaxed. 

When they arrived, Y/N had Namjoon and Taehyung help her bring in the cake and the gifts, never letting go of Seokjin’s hand once. She shouldn’t have noticed, but she did, that Yoongi was keeping a lot of space between them, sitting the furthest away from her at the table and silently reading the menu while everyone else chatted. If the other hybrids had noticed his odd behavior the past few days, they were very good at pretending they didn’t. 

Shaking her head, she put all of her attention on Seokjin, who still hadn’t released her hand. He wiggled in his seat happily, tail curling around her lower back, scooching his chair closer to Y/N. 

“What are you going to get?” Y/N leaned her cheek on Seokjin’s shoulder, reading his menu instead of her own. With a purr, Seokjin pointed out a few items, his teeth digging into his lower lip. “Ooh, that sounds yummy! Eggs benedict?”

They ended up ordering an obscene amount of food, Y/N passing on the mimosas so she could drive home uncompromised, but ordered a round for all of the hybrids. 

“So, how’s the book of the week so far?” Y/N asked Seokjin, who was taking a dainty sip of his mimosa. “A Christmas Carol, right?”

“Mm-hm. It’s a little early for Christmas stories in my opinion, though,” Seokjin cocked his head, a contemplative look on his face. “Have you been sleeping okay lately, Y/N?”

Seokjin was too kind to not point out the very obvious dark circles under her eyes, but she knew that was why he asked. Truthfully, she was lucky if she got three hours of sleep every night since she told Yoongi she loved him, but she couldn’t admit that to Seokjin. The last thing she wanted was to concern him on his birthday. 

“Yeah, I’ve just been having strange dreams that sometimes wake me up. I’m perfectly fine, though, honey,” Y/N attempted to soothe, Seokjin nodding and taking another swig of his mimosa. 

Thankfully, before he could pry, food arrived, and Y/N busied herself by stuffing her face so she didn’t have to talk. 

“This is the first time I’ve ever celebrated my birthday,” Seokjin admitted quietly, the food in front of him untouched as he seemingly soaked everything in. Chest squeezing, Y/N snaked an arm around his waist, pressing a kiss to his shoulder through his sweater. 

“Good thing you’ll have plenty more to celebrate each year, to make up for that,” she replied equally as soft, Seokjin’s eyes softening as he returned a kiss to her– his lips stamping affection on the crown of her head. 

Flushing, she caught Yoongi’s eyes across the table, that same blank look on his face from when he played the song for her days ago. Her song. Hurriedly looking back down at her food, she stuffed the emotion welling up inside her deep down. 

“Try this,” Seokjin interrupted her attempt to not wallow, a fork with a perfect bite of eggs benedict on it appearing in front of her face. 

Automatically, she opened her mouth like it was second nature; Seokjin often liked to feed her bites of his food like that, and she was never one to deny him. His lips twisted up into a smug smirk, using his free hand to cup her jaw like always, angling her face upwards so he could feed her the bite of his entree. She felt eyes on her from the whole table, but she couldn’t have cared less, locked in on the way Seokjin’s gaze was fixed on her mouth. 

“How is it?” Seokjin asked through his shit-eating grin, his touch vanishing but his tail still curled around her waist. 

“Mmm,” was all Y/N could articulate, swallowing slowly and unable to break free from his spell. 

“Spoiled,” Seokjin murmured, tutting. Heart falling to her ass, she gawked at his gorgeous side profile with utter disbelief, ears turning hot with humiliation and something else. 

“H-huh?” She squeaked, though the jaguar hybrid simply resumed eating, striking up a conversation with Hoseok a couple of seats down, still smirking. 

Reeling, Y/N managed to choke down the remainder of her meal, only snapping out of it when the waitresses came by with Seokjin’s cake, lit up with sparkler candles. Amazingly, Seokjin didn’t even flinch when the cake was placed in front of him, despite his usual aversion to things that were on fire or noisy, his cheeks rounding out as he read the top of his cake and blew out the candles. Hoseok sang a rather off-key version of “Happy Birthday” with the waitresses, and Y/N noticed that Taehyung had brought his camera with him, furiously taking pictures with flash of the entire event. 

“You got the lavender cake!” Seokjin exclaimed while Y/N was cutting a slice for him, pink frosting covering the pale purple sponge; a very Seokjin color scheme. 

“I did! You said you liked it a few months ago, I hope you still do,” Y/N pushed the plate in front of him, wondering if she should have a slice herself, considering how stuffed she was from all of the food Seokjin had just fed her. 

This time, Seokjin was the one blushing, mouth full of cake. Chuckling, she ruffled his hair, sliding plate after plate of cake down the table for each of the hybrids, astonished that they still had room in their tummies. 

“Okay, so what did you get Jinnie for his birthday? Did you snag him an audition on Masterchef?” Hoseok asked, frosting coating his lips. 

“Oh! Joonie, can you pass me those bags?” Y/N exclaimed, Namjoon getting up from his booth seat to deliver the three gifts at the head of the table, his damaged ear flickering when she called his name. 

Seokjin, who wasn’t quite as shy as he was when she first met him, accepted the first gift bag with pink ears despite all of his opening up. The whole table– apart from Yoongi, who excused himself to the bathroom minutes prior– watched Seokjin peer into the bag with rapt interest. 

The first gift was from her mother, a lovely vintage watch that Y/N had helped her pick out at a pawn shop recently. When she spotted it in the shop, it had Seokjin written all over it; elegant and classic, and went well with his polished wardrobe. Hoseok oohed and aahed, reaching across the table to strap it on Seokjin’s left wrist for him. Giggling, Y/N admired the way it looked on his slim wrist, leaning against his arm while he went for the other two gifts; several sweaters and shirts in various shades of pinks and neutrals, a pretty set of silver dangling earrings (Y/N noticed that he had two lobe piercings on his left ear, but didn’t have any earrings to put through them), and a set of brand-new Japanese knives. He loved every single gift, gushing over the knives in particular, but he had to slap Hoseok’s hand away when the fox hybrid attempted to put the earrings on Seokjin. 

Once the cake was eaten and plates were cleared away, Jeongguk and Namjoon both began to grow antsy, probably hoping to leave soon and get back to their routines. She handed her car keys to Taehyung beside her so he could pull the car around– he was the only one Y/N was confident that he knew how to drive, and Namjoon was known to speed– everyone following the Kodiak hybrid outside. Yoongi had long since returned from the bathroom, but once he saw that it was just Seokjin and Y/N waiting at the table to pay the bill, he too went out to the car. 

“Thank you, Y/N. Today was…” Seokjin trailed off, like he was at a loss for words. They were standing by the bar, waiting for his leftover cake to be boxed up, Seokjin straightening out Y/N’s coat and making sure it was clasped correctly. “Perfect.”

“My Seokjinnie,” Y/N cooed, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in chest. She felt him purring, his own arms coiling around her back, rubbing circles over her coat. “I have one more thing for you.”

Pulling away, she chuckled at the look of bewilderment lighting up his features, Y/N reaching into the pocket of her coat for an envelope, offering it to him with a wink. Carefully, Seokjin tore the envelope open, fishing out the two pieces of paper from within and turning them over. His eyes scanned the text, his pupils blowing out wide and mouth dropping open once he registered exactly what he was holding.

“A cooking class,” Seokjin breathed, cheeks turning bright pink. “At Eataly?”

“Yeah! I heard the classes there are awesome, and in that class you get to have wine pairings with whatever you cook, you learn about the regions in Italy where the dishes come from. You’ve been so into cooking lately, and I thought the class would be perfect for you, especially with the wine pairing aspect,” Y/N explained, Seokjin hanging on every word and reading the tickets over and over. “It’s in February. I got two tickets, so you can take whoever you like. Hoseok, Yoongi, Joonie, it’s your choice!”

Seokjin froze, a curious look in his eyes, tucking the tickets back into the envelope and reaching for Y/N’s hand again. 

“You don’t wanna come with me?” Seokjin squeezed her hand, a frown on his face for the first time that day. Blinking, Y/N made a noise of surprise. 

“Me? You want me to take the class with you?” Y/N asked stupidly, Seokjin furiously nodding and his ears perking up. 

“I don’t want to take it with anyone but you,” Seokjin confirmed resolutely, taking his cake box from a waitress ogling him without so much of a glance in her direction. Heart soaring upon hearing those words, Y/N couldn’t help but give him another tight hug. 

“Okay, I’ll go with you. Can’t wait,” Y/N agreed, mouth full of his felt coat. 

Seokjin just grinned brilliantly, leaving her embrace, tugging her towards the door, where her Land Cruiser was double-parked with the rest of the hybrids. 

“Let’s go home,” Seokjin held the door to the restaurant open for her, uttering the statement like it had great meaning to him. 

Even though she shouldn’t have, she let Taehyung drive home, Yoongi sitting beside him, while Y/N squeezed into the backseat between Namjoon and Seokjin. It was halfway back to the house when she realized Taehyung wasn’t using GPS; he knew where home was by memory, or perhaps by heart. 

“It’s just a piano lesson, just act natural, like nothing’s wrong,” Y/N glared at herself in her bathroom mirror, pinching her own cheeks to bring life back into her complexion. “Just act like you aren’t in love with the teacher.”

Groaning, Y/N switched off the bathroom light, feeling a touch ill. She had barely spoken more than a handful of words to Yoongi in over a week, nerves still too raw. Last week, she skipped her lesson, not even bringing it up to the leopard hybrid, and spent much of that Friday out in the stable with Jimin taking care of the animals. That week, however, she ironically decided to face the music and resume with the lessons, an attempt to grasp a sense of normalcy between her and Yoongi. 

Y/N paused before she left her bedroom, shooting her crumpled sheets a dirty look. Sleep still evaded her, and her dreams had been getting more and more vivid and taunting, the locked memory of her first meeting with Yoongi driving her insane even while unconscious. Growling, she left her room, taking a peek into Namjoon’s bedroom to find it empty, disappointment flooding through her. He must have been in his trailer, where he and Jeongguk had been hanging out recently like a pair of Ghostbusters.

She could hear a movie going on in the parlor, but she didn’t stop by to see what was on or who was watching, not wanting to drag her feet any longer. Y/N knew that Yoongi wasn’t there; he spent most of his time those days in the music room with the doors shut. Poor Taehyung couldn’t even use the record player all week. 

Crawling up the stairs, once she reached the room at the end of the hall, she knocked on the closed doors. Of course, he knew that it was her, but there was still a chance that he wouldn’t open up. As the door opened, her heart throbbed at the sight of him– similarly tired looking, just like her. Yoongi stepped aside, letting her into the room, before promptly shutting the both of them into the silent room. 

The room was a mess, sheet music strewn everywhere, a throw blanket tossed messily over the loveseat, several dirty mugs on the coffee table. She half-turned, too grief-stricken to face him fully, she gestured around the room. 

“Have you been sleeping in here?” Y/N managed, picking a crumpled piece of sheet music off of the ground, instantly recognizing the writing on the paper to be in Yoongi’s hand. Yoongi ran a hand over his face, his clothing all wrinkled and pen ink covering his fingers. “Um, I guess as long as it’s comfortable…”

“What do you want?” Yoongi asked softly, Y/N flinching at the question like she was burned with a fire poker. 

“I just wanted to ask… If we could have a lesson? If you still want to teach me? I understand if you don’t,” Y/N felt her throat grow sore from trying to keep down tears, feeling like a giant crybaby. 

Yoongi grunted, trudging over to the piano, pushing sheet music off of the bench and sitting down. 

“Come,” Yoongi patted the bench, avoiding her eyes, tail wrapping around his waist snugly. 

Y/N’s legs moved on their own accord, perching on the edge of the bench as far away from him as she could accomplish, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by touching him. Scanning the sheet music in front of her, already able to read it pretty well thanks to his vigorous teaching style, she heard the notes in her head as her eyes roamed over the notes. 

“Is this…?” Y/N timidly pointed to the paper, unable to look at him whatsoever. This was a terrible mistake. 

“It’s your song,” Yoongi gruffly admitted, his voice coming out strained. “I can teach you.”

Nodding, she was surprised she was able to keep the waterworks at bay, Yoongi launching into his lesson patiently. Y/N was leagues better and playing than she was months ago, so Yoongi hardly had to correct her or fix her hand placements, but the air in the room was suffocating her. Being so close to him, so close yet emotionally miles apart, had the queasy feeling in her gut growing by the second. 

She made it halfway through the song, but the more complicated section of the piece was starting to trip her up. Fumbling through the same measure four times in a row, she huffed in annoyance, considering throwing in the towel for the night. 

“No, try again. Like this,” Yoongi snapped her out of her self-criticism, gently rearranging her fingers on the keys to form the correct chord, the contact shocking her so much that she yelped, her vision going black immediately. 

“Give me your number,” the girl– Y/N– demanded, apparently trying to sound confident, but her alcohol-flushed cheeks were countering her desire to seem intimidating. 

Yoongi chuckled, for what felt like the first time in years, watching the girl stick out her arm and using her free hand to dig around in her purse for something. With a triumphant grin, she produced a pen from her bag, shoving it in Yoongi’s palm. 

“Give me your number, Yoongi,” Y/N repeated, waving her bare forearm in his face. 

“Silly girl. Why don’t I just put it in your contacts?” Yoongi teased, though he was secretly delighted that she wanted to keep in touch with him. He prayed that you’d be the one to remember. 

“My phone died,” Y/N pouted– oh, she didn’t know how irresistible she was. “Just write it on my arm, I’ll plug it in to my phone tomorrow, I swear.”

She didn’t know that promises, when it came to The Black Lodge, often disappeared into thin air. She didn’t know that there was a strong possibility that come morning, she’d forget she was even at a bar, that she met him. He shook his head, as if to clear the thoughts from it, reaching out to hold her wrist steady, uncapping the pen with his teeth. Yoongi could tell she was holding her breath, her heart rate picking up as he copied his cell phone number onto her smooth flesh. 

“What time is it? I have work in the morning…” Y/N looked regretful, like she couldn’t bear to leave the bar. It pulled at his heartstrings, embarrassingly enough. 

“Midnight,” Yoongi checked his watch before looking back at her face, trying to memorize every inch of it. “You should probably get going. I’ll call you a cab.”

Yoongi let Y/N cling to his arm, a little unstable on her heels, walking her to the back entrance of the bar. He felt the ache of having to say goodbye to the first person who made him feel like a real person in years, but there was nothing he could do– it’s not like he could lock her away in his apartment upstairs just so he could have someone to come home to. Breathing in deeply, he knew that he’d miss her scent as soon as she’d get in the cab and drive away. 

Leaning by the door, watching for the cab out of the window, Yoongi tried to appear nonchalant, but he was truthfully shaken. Y/N was talking about a concert that she wanted to go to with him the following week, an indie band he never heard of. If you remembered him the next day, there was a possibility he’d have actual plans with someone. Someone interested in getting to know him. 

“Hey Yoongi?” Y/N brought him out of his reverie, frowning as he spotted her cab waiting outside. 

“What’s that, silly girl?” 

“Can you kiss me?” She asked quietly, Yoongi positive that only a hybrid could hear her with how low she spoke. “Please?”

Stunned, Yoongi swallowed thickly, forgetting all about the cabbie waiting outside and honking furiously. She looked shy, and judging by her scent, she was anxious. Stepping closer, Yoongi’s body moved on its own, his hands slightly shaking as they reached to cup her delicate jaw. Y/N sucked in a breath, gaze dropping to his mouth, before her pretty eyes fluttered shut. Stooping, Yoongi shut his own eyes, his lips finding purchase on hers, her sweet sigh being swallowed up by him willingly. She gripped his wrists, still cradling her face, her teeth nipping lightly at his lower lip. Y/N pulled away all too soon, looking dazed, Yoongi equally as breathless. She reached up, flicking the angel wing earring dangling from his ear, giggling. 

“I’ll call you tomorrow, angel.” 

With that, she disappeared into the night, and the call never came.

“Y/N? Y/N, sweetheart, are you okay? What happened?” Yoongi, his voice somehow far away but definitely panicked, drew her out of whatever vision had taken over her body. She could feel herself being held, propped up against a heaving chest, a trembling hand cupping her cheek. “Y/N, please baby, open your eyes!”

Wheezing, Y/N could feel consciousness coming back to her piece by piece, the crack in Yoongi’s voice devastating her. Peeling her eyes open, she was met with Yoongi staring back at her, mortification and fear all over his face, ears pressed so flat to his skull she almost couldn’t see them. 

“What happened?” Y/N echoed Yoongi’s question back to him, her own voice scratchy. Yoongi, despite himself, pushed hair out of Y/N’s face, his whole body coiled with stress. 

“I don’t know. You passed out for a few seconds, but you s-sounded like you were having a terrible dream,” Yoongi’s voice cracked again, still holding her close to his chest. 

“I– it wasn’t terrible, it wasn’t a dream. I think,” Y/N spoke slowly, like her mouth was full of molasses. “I think it was a vision, like the ones my mom has.”

Y/N felt sapped of energy, entirely sagging into Yoongi’s embrace, forgetting all about how estranged they had been for weeks. When he put his hand over her’s, she got the vision. 

“What did you see, sweetheart?” Yoongi seemed to calm down a bit, though still held onto her like she was going to dissolve into smoke. 

“The bar, you and me. But from your perspective. Our kiss,” Y/N whispered, trying to replay the vision in her head over and over again, trying to remember how Yoongi’s lips felt on her. 

“You– you remembered?” Yoongi exclaimed, color flooding his cheeks. “Wait, what do you mean, from my perspective?”

“Like I was seeing it from your eyes,” Y/N explained tiredly, slumping further into his arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you the next day, angel.”

Yoongi went ramrod straight, a hiss coming from the back of his throat as he maneuvered Y/N upright by her upper arms so he could look into her eyes. 

“You need to stop apologizing to me,” Yoongi breathed, his eyebrows pulling together, pained. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t do what?” Y/N’s voice broke, moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes. 

“How many times am I going to make you cry?” Yoongi used a thumb to brush away the tears under her eyes, his anguished expression becoming even more pronounced. 

“I-I get that you don’t like me like that, Yoongi, b-but–”

“Y/N, I love you. I think I fell in love with you a year ago,” Yoongi confessed desperately, his other hand coming up to cup the side of her face. “As cheesy as that is. I love you, and it’s killing me.”

The world stopped, her heart stopped, and everything around her ceased to exist except for Yoongi. Tears drying up as if by command, Y/N searched for any sign of deception on his face or hidden in his body language, but came up with nothing. 

“You love me, too?” Y/N whimpered, heart aching from something else now. 

Yoongi leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, his eyes falling shut as he exhaled shakily. She twisted her fists into the fabric of his tee shirt, craving his warmth, savoring how close he was. 

“So fucking much,” Yoongi confirmed, voice above a whisper. “I love you so fucking much, baby.”

“Yoongi…” Y/N breathed, heart about to beat out of her chest. “Love you…”

With a purr rounding out into a growl, Yoongi moved one of his hands to the small of Y/N’s waist, dragging her closer to him. Inches away, danger, but also tenderness, filled his hazel eyes. He was beautiful. 

“Kiss me,” Yoongi’s barely audible request sent fireworks off in her gut, his eyes shutting again as he nudged his nose against hers. “Please.”

How could she possibly deny him, her Yoongi, her love, when he asked her so sweetly?

Pulse racing, Y/N released her hold on his shirt, tucking a long strand of jet black hair behind his ear, humming when he shuddered, placing her hand on the side of his neck, his own pulse thrumming as fast as hers was. 

“Please, baby,” Yoongi repeated, the pet name making her stomach flip. Without any more hesitation, Y/N leaned up, perfectly slotting her lips against Yoongi’s, gentle, slow, and impossibly sweet. 

His lips, full and soft, were yielding against hers, letting her take the lead, his hands remaining still– one holding her face, the other on her waist. Locking lips for several moments, innocent and so full of love, Y/N drew away, winded and over the moon. Yoongi stayed close, eyes lidded and breathing labored, before he spoke again. 

“More. Kiss me more.”

Yoongi pulled her into his lap, his tail curling around her waist, one arm around her back and the other traveling down to the outside of her thigh. Y/N, growing shy, gave him a simple peck, face on fire. She never imagined that this was how her night was going to go, but she couldn’t even remember when they weren’t like this before. Not satisfied with the measly peck she planted on the corner of his mouth, Yoongi chased after her, gripping her jaw tightly and descending his lips on her once more, Y/N gasping in surprise. Yoongi took that opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth, swallowing the startled moan she made hungrily, the tip of his tongue flicking against the roof of her mouth. 

Melting in his grip, Y/N kissed him back with renewed vigor, a hand moving to tangle in his silky hair, pleased that he took over the kiss, lungs screaming for air as Yoongi sucked on her lower lip with a purr. As if sensing that she needed to catch her breath, Yoongi released her lip with a pop, his mouth peppering kisses along her sensitive jaw voraciously, hand on her thigh rubbing up and down. Sighing blissfully, Y/N’s head tilted back when his lips trailed to her neck, mouth wet and kisses searing her flesh.

“Fuck, you smell so good,” Yoongi groaned into her neck, lightly sucking on a spot behind her ear that had her mewling. “Let me mark you…”

Words failing her, Y/N nodded desperately, eager to feel his teeth sink into her flesh. Chuckling darkly, Yoongi started muttering sweet nothings, dragging his tongue up the length of her throat. The hand on her thigh moved again, this time to grab a loose hold of the base of her neck, Y/N’s eyes rolling back into her skull with the weight of his palm in such a vulnerable spot. 

“Hold onto me, my love,” Yoongi murmured in her ear, Y/N obediently tightening her grip around Yoongi’s waist, whining at the sensation of his teeth tracing the vein fluttering with her erratic pulse making her see stars behind her eyelids. 

With one more open-mouthed kiss to her throat, Yoongi bit down, Y/N crying out his name, never feeling more alive than in that moment, in his arms, teeth in her neck. Tail protectively curling even tighter around her waist, Yoongi’s purrs were growing so loud, he sounded more predatory than ever. She didn’t know if it was the fact that he loved her, that he was kissing her, or the the side effects of scenting, but Y/N swore her soul ascended as he removed his teeth from the mark, a sensual swipe of his tongue sweeping over the wound to cauterize it. 

Growing entirely limp in his arms, Y/N barely had the energy to kiss him back when his lips returned to hers, whimpering at the tangy taste of her own blood on his tongue. And then, all at once, his lips were gone. 

“I don’t want to get carried away, sweetheart,” Yoongi’s voice was strained, planting a chaste kiss on her forehead with a hum.

“What if I do?” Y/N countered dopily, her head full of cotton and Yoongi. Yoongi barked out a hearty laugh, unable to help himself by pecking her lips once more, smoothing her hair into place. She probably looked like she got attacked.

“Not tonight, love,” Yoongi helped her stand, snickering at her whining protests. “Let’s take it slow, hmm? You need to get some rest, proper rest. So do I.”

“I guess you’re right,” Y/N admitted begrudgingly, though she wanted nothing more than Yoongi kissing her senseless all night, her body was sagging with exhaustion. “Your edginess has been keeping me up for nights on end.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” Yoongi apologized sincerely, his ears flattening against his skull again. Before he opened up the soundproofed door, he stopped, lifting her hand to his lips to brush a kiss over her knuckles. “I love you.”

Realizing, until they figured out how to tell the others, they’d have to keep their affections to themselves, Y/N pouted even further. Now that she had a taste of him, she was insatiable. 

“I love you, too, angel.”

Silently, Yoongi walked Y/N to her bedroom, stealing one last kiss after making sure the hallway was clear, Y/N floating on air as she sunk onto her bed, Yoongi shutting the door and leaving her to relive everything that happened mentally. 

On her nightstand, where she had left it, her phone chimed, making her flinch and swear. Blindly reaching for it, still a little hazy from the scenting and makeout session, she unlocked her phone, only to feel dread wash over her as she read the text that she received.

Hoseok 🦊: What the hell is going on with you and Yoongi? 

Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @serendididy @lilacdreams-00 @dreamerwasfound @ninjacups @osakis-gf @itwillbealways-d @xthefuckerysquaredx @momowantscats @molshole @gooooomz @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime13 @hemziii @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome @bangtxnbxunch @primrose2507 @kihyunniesmonbebe @lilmxchis @7evensin @00ihatesnaku @neverthefirstchoice @sometingreallycool @cathy-1997 @cerulean1riz

Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts ot7 x reader #hybrid au #bts ot7 x y/n #bts hybrid au #bts fic #bts au #bts hybrid x reader #bts hybrid fanfic #namjoon fanfic #seokjin fanfic #yoongi fanfic #hoseok fanfic #jimin fanfic #taehyung fanfic #jungkook fanfic

[misscrawfords]

I was listening to Pride and Prejudice on my drive back from my mother's today and it's been so long since I've actually read the novel as opposed to engaged with one or other adaptation...

Goodness, it's good, isn't it? And Elizabeth is so much more complex a character than she is often presented in adaptations.

The thing that was standing out to me today - I was listening to from when Mr. Collins proposes to Charlotte and I stopped just when Elizabeth was talking to Colonel Fitzwilliam at Rosings - was the chapter which is just Jane and Elizabeth talking about Bingley. This gets cut from adaptations or so condensed to be meaningless, but it's incredible. It's just a whole chapter of the sisters chewing over why Bingley ghosted Jane (for lack of a better term) and what Caroline's motivations were and the thing that gets me is that they're both right. Jane is right that Bingley can't be blamed for being a friendly young man and that he had no malicious intentions but Elizabeth is also right that young men can be thoughtless in their dealings with women who have less freedom than them and their thoughtlessness can do real hurt. (She's also right about Caroline, of course.) It struck me as such a modern issue. Maybe I've just been thinking about the unwitting hurt that thoughtless young men can cause recently, but everything is so complicated. Bingley is a flake who makes a mistake with regards to Jane but he's also a genuinely lovely young man who makes it right in the end - he's still on his own journey through life which he will continue with Jane. Jane herself lets her desire to see the best in others cause her to see friendship where it isn't, but being deceived in a friend is not so uncommon, is it? And she's not stupid or weak. Heck, she endures her heartbreak being talked about openly by her mother in public for months silently and without rancour. And she does it all without ever resenting Bingley! Jane's the strongest character in the whole novel and an inspiration to the rest of us - FIGHT ME on this!

The other thing I really picked up on was what an important moment in Elizabeth's character development Charlotte's engagement is. It actually kind of breaks my heart - her best friend makes a life choice that she can't support but has to and nothing will ever be the same again between them. It's the first dent into Elizabeth's world view that forces her to see that people are different from her and can make different decisions and this is okay and not just something she can laugh at. It's so relatable in terms of life events - when a close friend marries and then when they have a baby, these things absolutely still do alter friendships. Elizabeth gets over it and even enjoys seeing Charlotte in Hunsford but we are frequently reminded by the narrator that the previous confidences they enjoyed will never be the same again. It's a really big moment for Elizabeth and really the first event in the novel to start to shake her foundations of her comfortable existence. The other two are Bingley's desertion of Jane and Wickham's decision to pursue Mary King over her. By the time she goes to Hunsford, she is prepared in a way for the final massive shock to the foundations of The World According to Lizzy Bennet, not that she knows it. Such is growing up.

And OMG Lady Catherine is SO vulgar and inappropriate! She is a direct parallel to Mrs. Bennet and the rest of the Bennets. Just as Elizabeth feels accute embarrassment at the Netherfield Ball, Mr. Darcy is feeling exactly the same at Rosings. Beautifully done. But their awareness of what is appropriate behaviour is something that unifies Darcy and Elizabeth even if Darcy massively fails to behave like a human around Elizabeth. Pride and Prejudice is such an expose and examination of "how to behave in social situations". There is nobody who doesn't come under scrutiny and pretty much every type of behaviour is gone over with a fine tooth comb.

Sometimes I feel almost ashamed when people ask me what my favourite novel is and I say "Pride and Prejudice" because it's such a damn cliche. I should say something heavier or more obscure or at least I should say it's Persuasion, the "thinking girl"'s favourite Austen. But P&P is so special to me on so many levels and you know what? It is a MASTERFULLY written book.

#jane austen #pride and prejudice #i just want to spend my life thinking about Austen

[heartpascal]

something is rotten

▹ — joel miller x niece!reader

▹ — summary: part two of to an empty house — arriving in jackson brings painful feelings, and even worse conversations.

▹ — a/n: UGH!! guys im not all that happy with this one!! ive changed it a couple times too D: but i have left yall hanging long enough!! lemme know if you want anymore about these guys :’) && ty guys sm for all the support ILY!!

▹ — warnings: slight spoilers for episode 6 ‘kin’, swearing, ANGST!!!, a bit of comfort, father figure joel, reader has daddy issues, and abandonment issues, and is generally not struggling in life PLS

▹ — tags: @canpillowscry @randomstory56 @angsty-twihardxx @frogtits1 @exiledangel @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @vee-vee-writes @rhyanna6012 @snixx2088 @mona-aiko @mymommmy (those of you tagged in italics asked for part 2 in the comments of the first part! drop me a message if you want your tag removed!!)

masterlist

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Life in the apocalypse had been non-stop since you had left that hydroelectric power plant, left behind Tommy, and for a while, all thoughts of him. There hadn’t been time to worry about that sort of thing, between almost losing Joel, and then almost losing Ellie, and then finally reaching the hospital that had been your end goal.

In some ways, you were glad. It kept your mind racing, the feeling of constantly being on edge allowing your brain to stay away from silly things, such as your father.

But now, with that whole chapter finally being over, Joel and Ellie were ready to settle down, to live in a home, rather than travelling miles upon miles, never feeling safe. The three of you had been through a lot, and since the… incident with Ellie, her joke book had remained closed.

You knew that Joel had noticed the change in her, just the same as you had. What she had thought to be her purpose, the justification for everybody who had been lost on your journey, their sacrifice, had been for nothing. It was tearing her apart, and it hurt you to watch it happen.

There was no question about your next destination, though you tried to ignore the reality of it for as long as you possibly could, you were fully aware that Jackson was what Ellie needed. Hell, you’d even go as far as to say it was what Joel needed, too. But deep down, you knew that going there was going to tear you to pieces, despite the way you liked to put on a strong front, following in Joel’s footsteps even in that sense.

You didn’t share your concerns, content to continue the journey in silence, pretending not to notice the way Joel and Ellie looked at you the closer you got to the town.

“Hey, you okay?” Ellie murmured to you, the final stop of your journey feeling like something similar to that of impending doom. She nudged your arm with her elbow, smiling in a way that didn’t quite reach her eyes like it used to.

“Mighty fine.” You responded, her dim smile reflected in your own, and you let it fall the moment she nodded at you, despite clearly being unconvinced by your words.

You fell into step beside her and Joel, and felt his hand grasp on to your shoulder as you caught glimpse of Jackson in the not far enough distance. He squeezed your shoulder the slightest bit, and gave you the biggest reassuring smile he could muster, though it didn’t soothe your worries like it used to.

Maybe it was everything the three of you had been through over your journey, or maybe it was the impending arrival at Jackson, but you were starting to notice the world had become much dimmer than you remembered it to be. Joel’s grip less reassuring, Ellie’s smile less genuine, that faint hope in your gut long gone. With a frown, the thought came to you that this was what it meant to grow up.

The lines on Ellie’s face said the same thing, the sigh that had left her chest, made up of pure exhaustion, just told you that her naive nature had vanished. Jokes no longer received the same laughter, and the world no longer held beauty. Growing up felt like hopelessness settling, nuzzling its way in and making itself at home in that space around your heart. The grip it had made it feel like perhaps, it wouldn’t be all too bad if that heartbeat slowed, but you pushed that thought aside for another time.

For now, you’d have to focus on the problem at hand; arriving in Jackson.

It was warmer now than it had been when you’d left the power plant, and it showed in the way that the green lands had brightened, the sun settling and warming the back of your neck. The heat meant less layers, and the three of you had removed your jackets long before arriving in the town.

The lookouts had spotted you all before you’d been anywhere near the gate, so it was no surprise that Tommy was there to greet the three of you when the gates were finally pulled open, allowing you a peek into the home he valued so much.

Walking in, you had already begun your self-appointed mission of ignoring every word Tommy Miller said, but felt yourself almost blown away by the sights around you. For a moment, just a split second, it was nice.

That thought went out the window a second later, catching a glimpse of your so-called father, and you couldn’t help but recall the way you’d sat for endless nights, waiting for that very man, and imagined yourself living a life with him in a town just like this one.

You felt sick.

That little kid deserved better, you decided. You were worthy of living this kind of life, of getting to sleep in a warm house, of not having to worry about if Joel and Tess would get enough ration cards to feed the three of you, of getting horse riding lessons! The facts of the situation stared you in the face, getting clearer the longer you looked around. Your own father denied you of this life.

With building anger, the feeling white-hot, burning, you turned to Joel where he was speaking with his brother. “Where are we staying?”

Tommy looked between you and Joel, swallowing when Joel just raised a brow at him, and spoke, “Uh, little place just a couple blocks over. 38, I think. Rancher Street, I’ll take you guys over—”

“I’ll make my own way.” You snapped, before he could even finish his sentence. If you had to look at him for even a second longer, you were sure that the overflowing anger and resentment would explode, and you weren’t convinced anyone would be able to pick up the pieces that would be left behind.

You stormed down the street before he could say another word to you, turning down the first alley you saw and standing still in the street on the other side, letting out a harsh breath.

You couldn’t be sure how long you’d stood there for, trying to turn down the simmering emotions inside of you, but it was clearly long enough for somebody to notice. “You good there?” A young girl asked, and you turned to her, brows furrowed.

“‘M fine.” You responded gruffly, and even you could hear the way your speech reflected Joel’s own. The thought calmed you, almost, reminding you of who your real dad was.

She stepped closer, clearly not taking a hint, “You sure? New in town? You look lost.”

“Yes, yes, and I’m not lost.” You said to her, though you didn’t exactly know where you were. She just raised her eyebrows at you, and you huffed, “Lookin’ for a Rancher Street.”

The girl nodded, something between a smirk and a smile on her face, and pointed forward, “First left twice, then a right. Should get you there just fine.”

“Thanks.” You said, immediately heading off in the direction she’d guided you in. You kept your head down, brows furrowed, and tried to keep your attention away from the world around you. It was clear that it’d just make you more angry.

You counted along with the house numbers as you passed by, Rancher Street wasn’t that densely populated, if the look of the houses were anything to go by. There was quite a few that looked run down, number 38 included, once you arrived. You went inside, the door already unlocked, and sneezed when you inhaled all the dust that clouded the air. This place must’ve been barely touched throughout the last twenty years.

Grabbing a book left on the coffee table, you pulled it open, and sat on the edge of an old sofa, sighed through your nose when even more dust floated up from it.

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“You’ll go, because it’s the polite thing to do.” Joel told you firmly, sighing heavily as he looked over at you with his arms crossed.

“You think I give a shit about being polite?” You asked him, mirroring his stance by crossing your own arms. He rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he clearly brainstormed a way to get around your stubbornness.

“Just this one time,” He told you, saying your name pleadingly, “Then you’ll never have to go ‘round there again.”

That peaked your interest, and you uncrossed your arms, “Really? You promise?”

“Swear.” Joel replied, and sighed something near to relief, finally calling Ellie’s name. The stairs creaked, and she appeared less than a second later.

“You coming?” She asked, thought she had obviously been sat on the stairs, listening to yours and Joel’s… conversation, the whole time.

“Yeah,” You sighed unhappily, “I’m coming.”

The three of you made your way across town, with Joel checking a scrap piece of paper that you could only assume held directions. Lights had flickered on by now, the darkness of the evening being offset by the yellow lamps that poured light over the street. It was weird, you thought, being able to see so clearly in the darkness.

Joel knocked at the wooden door when you arrived, looking back at you where you stood, just off the porch with Ellie, like he thought you might run away if he didn’t keep his eyes on you.

Though the thought had occurred to you, you wouldn’t do it, not if it meant that Joel’s promise would be vacant. Just this once, he had sworn.

The front door opened as Ellie knocked your arm with her elbow, giving you a slight reassuring smile. You appreciated the effort, but the reassurance fell flat. There was something about this situation that you just couldn’t put into words, but it hurt. Her arm wrapped through your own as Joel followed Tommy inside, and she led you in after them, closing the door behind you.

Immediately, you were tense. Your heart felt as if it was beating in your throat, like it was going to stop if you took another step. You tried not to look around, keeping your eyes on your battered old shoes as you let Ellie continue leading you through the house.

Her abrupt stop had you stumbling into her, and lifting your head with furrowed brows. You glanced to where she was looking, seeing the names Kevin and Sarah written in a scrawl on a chalkboard in what you guessed would be a living room. You frowned, and gripped Ellie’s arm tighter, breaking her from her stare at the board.

You pretended not to notice the homely feel to the house, the warmth of it making your palms sweat. If you allowed your mind to wonder too far, you’d be reminded of how you had dreamed of living a life like this as a kid, dreamed of a house just like this one, shared with your father. You would be reminded of how he chose to have this, chose to have it without you.

Good job you keep your mind on a tight leash, you supposed, gritting your teeth and blinking away the angry tears that wanted to rise and fall from your eyes.

You breathed in deeply through your nose, looking up as Ellie began to loosen her grip on your arm, having arrived at the dining room. The concept had always been strange to you, having lived in a shitty apartment for basically all your life, and having a whole room just for eating seemed like a waste of valuable space.

Ellie took a seat, and you quickly followed in her example as Joel stood talking to Tommy by the doorway, engaged in conversation like they were as close as they had been two decades ago.

“You got this.” Ellie said, her hand on squeezing your arm as she looked towards where you were wringing your fingers together, your stomach feeling as though you’d left it back by the porch. You nodded at her, swallowing and smiling tightly.

You stayed quiet as Tommy finished setting the table, before he was moving back and forth between the dining room and kitchen, bringing various plates and a few sauces with each trip. Finally, he sat down at the head of the table beside Ellie, and you kept your gaze away from him.

“Sorry I couldn’t be there to greet you guys when you got in,” Maria called, finally approaching from the kitchen, and you were keeping your gaze on your hands until Ellie frantically began tapping your, her expression saying something you’d couldn’t quite understand, something close to pity in her eyes. “Kinda hard to get around so quick, these days.” Maria laughed, placed a big plate down on the table before standing back up, her hands on her back and—

If you had eaten any food, you were sure you would’ve thrown it all back up.

There, standing in front of you, was your father’s wife — pregnant.

It felt like a million different feelings were running through your head, faster than you could catch up, all your thoughts were racing, clashing together and leaving only one that was literate: What the fuck?

Maria sat down beside Joel, at Tommy’s side, and you could see in Joel’s eyes that he hadn’t expected this, could see the pity building in his eyes just as you’d seen in Ellie’s, and it was all far too much.

“I can’t do this.” You announced, slamming your hands on the table and feeling some satisfaction in the way the cutlery clattered together. You pushed your chair back, standing up, and saw your father open his mouth to speak.

He said your name, and you snapped.

“Don’t talk to me! What the fuck is wrong with you?” You cried out, staring daggers at the man who was supposed to be your dad. The angry tears that you had managed to push away earlier came rushing back, one already falling down your cheek. You wiped it away angrily.

“Kid, just listen—”

You seethed, “Kid? Do I look like a fucking kid to you? You missed out on that, Tommy. You have no idea—” Your voice broke for a moment, as you thought of all the things that had happened to you since your father had been around. “I don’t have to listen to you. You’re not my dad, remember? You left your daughter, years ago. You have no idea what we’ve been through.”

Ellie was stood beside you, her hand on your shoulder, though when she had got there, you had no idea. The edges of your vision were red, and you could feel the way your throat was tightening.

“I’m sorry,” He started, your name leaving his lips once again, and Ellie held firmly against you as you leant towards him, your blood warming in your veins as your heartbeat echoed in your ears.

“I don’t think sorry cuts it.” You laughed, humourlessly. “I don’t think anything does, actually. I will never forgive you. You hear me? You listening? Never.”

You turned away, Ellie’s hand falling away, and you even avoided Joel as he stood up and tried to reach out for you. You couldn’t face them, not like this, not when it felt like your father had taken a chisel to your heart, and left you with only splintered ribs. You were choking on the emptiness of it, the reality of your life and what it meant to the man who had helped create it.

You were more certain now than ever that he had never cared for you, that he had left because of you, not just despite you.

It was horrible, and it was something you had always suspected. A part of you wished that he had died alongside the Fireflies, because at least then he wouldn’t have had a choice in staying away, right? But no, he was alive and well, thriving in the home he’d made without you, while you worried back at the QZ that barely provided you with enough food to get by.

You were storming away, and had reached the house you'd been allocated before you even really noticed that you had left. The blood in your veins had reached a boil by now, and you could feel the steaming in your lungs, in the way it suffocated you and made every breath burn against your throat.

The backpack in your hands was still filled with everything you owned, seeing as you hadn’t bothered to unpack into somebody else’s bedroom, though it had been theirs a lifetime ago. It didn’t help the deepening rage within you, the despair that was tilting your entire world on its axis. Everything in your life was in this bag, probably weighing less than the plate of food Maria had brought out.

Meanwhile, your father had a whole house full of shit that belonged to him. You scoffed, feeling that burning sensation crawling up your chest, so close to hatred, but something far more raw, more painful.

Your feet took you back out to Rancher Street, legs moving before your mind was fully caught up. You met the rest of the Miller’s halfway through your trek, with them on their way to Joel’s new house, whilst you were trying to make your way to the gate, prepared to leave, rather than get left behind.

Joel called your name, his expression displaying the panic that was crushing his chest. He had been a builder, before. He had fixed things — it was what he did, what he liked to do. But this was something he didn’t know how to fix, something that may have just been broken beyond repair… he wasn’t sure what to do with that.

“Joel, don’t,” You told him, voice trembling as you spoke, stopping in front of the man who had looked after you for your whole life. “Please don’t. Nothin’ that anyone says could make me not hate him. Not even you.”

Joel swallowed, glancing back to his brother behind him, where he stood with his wife, before glancing to Ellie at his own side.

“I—I didn’t mean for this,” Tommy said, arms up by his head as if he was surrendering, but you knew he was just trying to make himself feel better. “I swear!”

“I don’t care,” You cried, feeling your frustration build that none of these people had the ability to understand you, to understand how it felt for your own father to look at you and leave you behind. They couldn’t get how crushing this was, that he was starting over. “Go ahead, start over with your wife. First time ‘round didn’t work, but second time, surely!”

He flinched at your words, as if they had hurt him, but your expression hardened. He had no idea what true hurt was — how could he?

“I know I wasn’t the greatest dad—”

“You have never been my dad. Joel is my dad. He’s looked after me my whole life while you were out lookin’ for something, who knows what, because I don’t believe you ever found it.” You spat at him, feeling Ellie approach your side, hold on to your wrist as your hands clenched into fists.

Joel’s face fell, the reality of your feelings towards your father were crushing, but he could see why you’d feel that way. He’d agree with you, too, if anybody deserved the title of your dad, it’d be himself, not his brother. He remembered a few times when you’d used the name for him, though you had been sick or exhausted down to your very bones both times, and he had figured that in your muddled mind, you’d gotten him confused with Tommy. That was the reason he had never corrected it, not wanting to squash whatever little amount of hope and love you had for his brother. He’d had no idea that the truth was that you saw him, not his brother, and your mind had made that connection.

He felt like he could cry when you turned to him, that glassy look in your eyes, and he saw the pieces of you that his own brother had broken. “I want to leave.” You told him, lip trembling as you said the words.

Joel didn’t know what to reply with — the two of you had nowhere to go, and Ellie didn’t, either. This place was your best option, your only option, really. He shook his head, mouth slightly agape as he tried to think of something to say, something that could convince you.

Ellie said your name, and you drew your gaze to her, where she looked guilty, far guiltier than you had ever seen her. “I want to stay.” She told you, her eyes darting away from you as if she was confessing some awful sin to you.

“I know,” You said, letting her hand slip from your wrist to your own hand, and squeeze tightly. “But I…”

Your gaze moved to Tommy and Maria, and your expression hardened, features turning to stone when you looked at the two of them. “I’ll stay. For now. And I’m still a Miller, but— but if anybody asks, I’m Joel’s daughter.”

Joel nodded, smiling thinly at you, tears welled up in his own eyes, and you nodded back to him.

“O—Okay.” Tommy said, swallowing, but you shushed him before he could continue.

“As for you, I don’t wanna see you. Let’s keep it the way you decided we should be.“ Your voice trembled, but you remained firm on your words. “I don’t wanna see your face, or hear your voice. I don’t want to know you. Joel can do what he likes, but you stay far away from me, you got it? The only kid you have is that one.” You finished, gesturing toward where Maria held a hand over her stomach.

Tommy looked as if he was going to disagree, but people had begun peeking through the windows of the houses on either side of the street, and when Joel stepped beside you, arm immediately going around your shoulders, he knew he had no choice.

“Hope you’re a better father to that kid than you were to me.” You hissed at him, seeing the way his face crumpled and finding satisfaction in it.

The small part of you, the darkest part, hoped every one of your words hurt him. Hoped that he lived the rest of his life knowing that he fucked up, that he ruined you, and that when you built yourself back up, he’d never get the chance to know you.

Joel took the backpack from your shoulder, pulling it over his own, and turned you away from the father you had disowned. The three of you walked away, not looking back to see the way Maria had to herd him away as he stared at you, something close to grief in his eyes.

When you arrived back at 38 Rancher Street, Ellie held your hand tightly while Joel opened the front door, dropping your backpack by the stairs as he moved towards the dust filled living room. The two of you followed him, and he turned around to see you squeezing Ellie’s hand, your lips trembling and your face crumpled as you looked up at him.

“Did I make a mistake? Did I ruin everything?” You asked him, trying so hard to keep yourself together, to tape all the little pieces of yourself into something that resembled okay, but it wasn't working.

“God, no, kid.” Joel said, and he was in front of you and Ellie before you could get another word in, pulling the two of you into his arms and breathing out a tired exhale. “I’m proud of you, proud of you both.” He told you, and your whole facade collapsed beneath you, leaving you sobbing into his arms, wondering where everything had gone wrong, wondering what that little kid would’ve said if she had heard your words tonight.

“We’re gonna be alright.” Joel told the two of you, feeling Ellie squeeze her arms tighter around him, until she let go, pointing upwards to let him know where she was heading. He nodded at her, an understanding expression on his face, and tightened both his arms around you.

“You swear?” You checked, unable to help yourself, and let yourself breathe a shaky sigh into his neck when he responded.

“Swear.”

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #joel miller angst #joel miller father figure #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller platonic #joel miller x reader platonic #tlou imagines #tlou one shot #tlou imagine #tlou angst #tlou fluff #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller angst #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal fluff #heartpascal writes

[epinebleue]

love me now (m) | 09

in which Johnny gets into a fight.

pairing: johnny suh x reader (female)

genre: established relationship!au, mature.

warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (reader’s on the pill), kitchen sex, violence (Johnny punches a guy).

chapter index

“For the love of God, just ignore him...”

Johnny chuckles at your words, visibly irritated. Over your shoulder, he scans the group behind you, looking at the man who has been pushing you almost since you got to the club.

Johnny’s a rational man. He knows that the place is packed and there isn’t much space to move or even dance, so bumping into people is fairly understandable.

“I’m trying.”

Precisely because he’s a rational man, Johnny’s sure that the man is doing it on purpose. Pushing you once is an accident; twice is a coincidence; but by the third time, Johnny's straightening his back, ready to fight.

The man's friends step in, apologizing, stating that he’s drunk out of his mind. The smile on his face, Johnny thinks, says otherwise.

He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Try harder.”

You tell Johnny about your sister’s plans for your niece’s birthday party, trying to divert the attention from the guy.

For a moment you succeed, as Johnny nods and starts smiling again at your stupid jokes.

Then, you feel a cold liquid sliding down your arm.

You barely have time to register what's happening before Johnny pushes you aside, grabbing the man behind you by the collar. Once he has him against the wall, Johnny delivers the first punch.

The pieces of the broken glass crunch under your shoes as you rush towards Johnny, your heart in your throat. You’re afraid of Johnny getting hurt, but you’re more afraid of Johnny getting in trouble for hurting somebody else. He’s taller and stronger than the guy he’s holding; he could absolutely destroy him if he wanted.

And he wants to, which makes him dangerous. 

The guy’s friends surround Johnny and try to drag him away but your boyfriend, far from being stopped, slams him against the wall, screaming something you aren’t able to hear due to the blasting music.

A security guard makes his way through the crowd and grabs Johnny from behind, by the shoulders, to push him back. Johnny, whose grip tightens, drags the guy with him.

And right when you think Johnny will never let him go, he does.

You don’t even acknowledge the man, all your attention being on Johnny. Not a single scratch on his face, just pure anger.

He doesn’t answer when you ask if he’s okay, simply nodding. You quickly abandon the club after explaining the situation to security, using your soaked dress as proof.

The cold midnight air hits you as soon as you step into the street, reminding you that a crazy man just poured his drink on you. But you’re still too shaken to be bothered. Instead, you turn to Johnny, who's looking at the cars passing by, waiting for a taxi to appear.

“That was stupid.” You state after a minute, putting on your coat. Johnny turns around, an eyebrow raised.

“I beg your pardon?”

“What if he had been dangerous?” You cross your arms over your chest, trying to stop yourself from shivering. Your dress is too thin, so, now that it’s wet, you’re freezing to death even with your jacket on. “What if he had had a knife?”

“He didn’t look like the type to carry a knife around.” He argues back, shoving his hands inside the pockets of his coat.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Superman. I totally forgot about your X-ray vision.”

“He spilled his drink on you on purpose.” Johnny snaps, raising his voice. “Why am I the one getting scolded?”

“I’m not scolding you.” You raise your voice too. “But you must admit that was incredibly stupid.”

“Well, he’s fine, isn’t he?”

Johnny’s the love of your life, your future children’s father, the person you will grow old with. But, sometimes, he can be stubborn to the point of making you want to pull your hair off.

This is one of those times.

“For fuck’s sake, John.” You stamp your foot against the pavement, the click of your high heel swallowed by a car passing by. “I don’t care about his safety, I care about yours! How can you not understand that?”

“Whatever.”

Johnny turns around again and manages to stop a taxi. He holds the door for you and you get in without a single word.

You spend the thirty-minute ride home looking through the window, cursing Johnny in your mind. Nevertheless, you can’t be mad for long. The city lights of New York flickering in the distance, similar to stars, relax you.

You get Johnny’s actions. The man had, in a way, assaulted you; it was only normal to react as Johnny did. However, you wish he understood you, too. Of course the man didn’t look dangerous at all, but what if he had hurt him?

It’s the disregard for his well-being that irritates you.

Once you get home, you make a bee-line to the bathroom. You deserve a shower and something warm before going to bed.

The hot water washes away the stickiness on your skin and gives you a clearer vision of the situation: you’ll address the topic in the morning over some coffee.

Johnny’s in the room when you go back. He doesn’t talk to you as he undresses and gets ready to hop in the shower now that it’s free. Him walking past you as if you were some invisible being is enough to ignite the spark of anger once again, but you don’t blow up.

Instead, you walk to the kitchen and start preparing a delicious cup of chamomile tea, which has always helped you in times of stress. It also makes you sleep better; exactly what you'll need tonight.

Johnny comes out of the bathroom right when you’re pouring the brewed tea into a cup, and it’s not long before he steps into the kitchen, looking at you like a sad puppy would, and you know he’s about to ask for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry.” He says, then waits.

There’s a few seconds of silence where you finish filling your cup and put the teapot away.

“What are you sorry for?”

Johnny has been here before. He knows you aren’t that mad at him anymore; you just want him to fight for your pardon a little harder.

“For hitting a man without thinking of the consequences.” He sighs, joining you beside the counter. “You were right, it was stupid on my part.”

You smile behind the cup, taking a sip before answering.

“Thank you.” You say, sincerely. “I’m sorry for the scolding, too. It’s just that I was afraid. I’ve never seen you that angry.”

“Oh, babe.” Johnny circles your waist with his arms from behind, kissing the top of your head. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You rest your head on his chest as a mischievous smile starts to grow on your face.

“You looked hot, by the way.”

The next thing you hear is Johnny snorting.

“What?” He softly pats the front of your thigh. “Is that all you could think of while I fought for your honor?”

“I’m being honest!” You turn around, leaning on the kitchen counter. “In my defense, you always look hot.”

You tiptoe to peck his lips.

You swear there's no intention to make something bigger out of the kiss, at least not until Johnny places his hand on the back of your neck to prevent you from moving away.

With his teeth, he captures your lower lip and releases it slowly. You open your eyes to find his brown orbs looking right back at you, so intense and dark.

Johnny presses his palms against your cheeks.

“How can someone be so beautiful?”

If he wasn't holding your face, you’d try to hide it in his neck

He wouldn’t let you, anyway.

As Johnny devours your mouth once again, he grabs a handful of your ass as his hands make their way to the small of your back, pressing you against his warm chest. 

You throw your arms around his neck, noticing the already hard bulge in between your bodies.

There’s a brief moment in which Johnny breaks the kiss to get rid of your panties, the soft fabric of your nightgown caressing the skin of your bare butt for a few seconds before he’s helping you to sit on the kitchen counter. You shiver at the sudden contact with the cold surface, but the discomfort doesn’t last long, because your stomach tingles in excitement when you see him kneel in front of you.

You spread your legs and Johnny buries his face in your sex.

He lets out a sigh when his tongue finally tastes your wetness as if he hadn’t eaten you out in years.

You rest a hand on top of Johnny’s head, suddenly remembering that confession he made months ago. Hesitating, your fingers lace into his brown hair and pull softly, testing the waters.

Johnny hums in pleasure against your entrance at the action, making you melt on the spot. Your lover closes his lips around your clit, playing with it until you’re a moaning mess on the counter.

His fingers ghosting your entrance makes you hitch, sighing as Johnny slides one finger in, up to the knuckle, but doesn’t move, too focused on your clit.

Your moans grow louder, rip apart your throat. You don’t know how to be patient when it comes to sex with Johnny, so you buckle your hips, desperate for contact. 

He looks up at you, and you swear you feel him smirking against your pussy. He knows you way too well, but you know him, too. You’re able to decipher the message hidden behind his gaze in a matter of seconds.

“Move.” You whisper, struggling with the words. You repeat it, louder this time. “Move, please…”

As if you had pressed a button, Johnny pulls his finger out completely, slowly, making you hiss. The emptiness is unbearable and you’re ready to beg again, but Johnny shoves two fingers this time, pumping them quickly, the noise of your juices only swallowed by his slurping.

Your legs close around his head, but Johnny doesn’t complain. Quite the opposite, he seems to enjoy it, judging by the way he starts eating you out like a madman, folding his fingers to reach that specific spot.

With eyes closed shut, you take it all in. There’s a tight knot in your stomach about to snap.

You curse.

“Cum for me, baby.” Johnny whispers, your sounds like music for his ears, keeping the rhythm of his fingers. “Cum all over my fucking fingers and mouth.”

The orgasm clouds your mind, the only thing spilling out of your mouth as your pussy clenches around his fingers being his name, over and over.

Johnny keeps pumping his fingers, slowing down as he rises to his feet. He captures your open mouth, your moans dying in his throat. He kisses your cheeks, making a trail to your neck, which he bites. You clench around his digits, now still.

“Open.”

He orders. You obey. He pulls out his fingers to shove them in your mouth. You lick them clean under his gaze, enjoying how hard he’s trying to hold himself back. It barely lasts a second.

Johnny removes his fingers from your mouth, both hands flying to the elastic of his sweatpants. You notice a big stain in the fabric before watching them fall to the floor, along with his underwear. Precum leaks from his tip, and although it’s enough to lubricate him whole, Johnny places his hand in front of your mouth, palm facing up.

“Spit.”

You blink twice, slightly taken aback, but spit on his palm anyway. He then closes his hand around his cock, a sigh of relief leaving his lips.

Johnny pumps his dick with your spit twice before aligning it with your entrance. His head falls back as your warm walls engulf him, and all he can think of is fucking you fast and rough. The low moan you let out doesn’t help him at all. Johnny kisses you in an attempt to control himself. But you’ve been waiting for this ever since he laid his hands on you.

You grind against Johnny, gasping at his tip reaching deeper, but the feeling doesn’t last long. Johnny moans, grabbing your waist to pin you down. It takes him great effort to collect himself before looking down at you. He raises an eyebrow at your smirk.

“I really can’t trust you.” He says, his tone an octave lower. It makes you shake in anticipation. “Don’t pull shit like this, I was trying to take it slow.”

“I don’t want slow.”

“How do you want it?” Johnny whispers, allowing your hands to roam his chest.

You reach his waist and push him forward, sighing when you feel his dick making its way into you once again. “I want rough.”

Johnny allows you to grind on him, giving you a deep kiss before rocking his hips in sync. He goes slow, reaching down to grab your arms and settling them behind your back, holding them there. His pace grows gradually, reaching a point when he starts thrusting, mercilessly.

You rest your forehead against Johnny’s shoulder, gasping for air, your throat so dry that it hurts. The kitchen is filled with the slapping of skin on skin. You feel Johnny’s teeth on your shoulder, biting so hard that it brings tears to your eyes.

Panting heavily, you warn Johnny that you won’t last long.

Your arms circle his strong shoulders as soon as he releases them, scratching the skin of his back. His breath hits your ear when he hisses. He hugs you by the waist, growling, looking for your high as much as his.

You hold your breath as your orgasm slams you, clamping Johnny’s length tightly as he cums inside you. He gradually slows down, trying to drag your orgasms a little longer.

You pant, resting your forehead on his sweaty chest as he eventually ceases all movement.

“I can’t believe we just fucked in the kitchen.” Johnny lets out a laugh that makes your head bob. “We eat in here.”

“Well, I ate.”

“Aren’t you charming?”

No reposting or translations allowed.

© epinebleue 2023

#johnny smut #nct johnny #nct johnny smut #nct smut #nct fic #johnny suh smut #johnny suh fic #nct johnny fic #johnny imagine #johnny suh #nct fic smut

[adamsrcnan]

OKAY OKAY here we goooo an annoyingly long-ish post about all my thoughts on The Sunshine Court

Spoilers Spoilers Spoilersss you've been warned

First things first it is so interesting to see Nora writing from not one but TWO new people's perspective. Jean's perspective is just devastating being inside his head is heartbreaking the constant fear and panic and how much of his energy is used on just pushing down every memory of what was done to him. His coping mechanisms are terrifying and i truly do hope by the end of book 2 he has a healthier way of dealing with it bc baby boy stop hurting yourself :( Every sentence was so painful to read. But also his resilience the entire time to get through it no matter what, god i fucking love him!!! He is a fighter.

Jeremy's perspective is sooooo refreshing. He is such a little sweetheart i could cry. The fact that he sends hand written letters and he's so caring and genuine but he can also be so stern. When he dropped that "i asked you a question" to Lucas fkehdjdfjdh OK SIR. I'M SAT. His relationship with the family butler is so endearing as well i need more background on that for sure! My only one criticism is that he didn't have enough pov chapters and i'm hoping we'll learn more in the second book of course because there's still so much about him and his (dysfunctional? toxic?) family dynamic that we don't know yet but also i'm greedy and i wanna know EVEYTHING about him !!!

Kevin and Jean are so just tragic it actually breaks my fucking heart like "you didn't have to slit my throat on the way out" JEAN??? and "promise me you won't try again. I can't lose you." KEVIN??? And the fact that Jean to this day is still keeping that promise. Also Jean's obvious but secret long term crush on Kevin the way it's subtly dropped every time Jean has to stamp down on his desire's and "temptations" GOD PLEASE I CAN'T STAND IT

SPEAKING OF!!! BISEXUAL JEAN ??? BI JEAN??? BI JEANNNN !!!!

Neil and Jean oh my God like where do i even start?? The guilt Jean feels at what happened to Neil in the Nest and him finally calling him by his name after Riko's death and telling him his game was good. And Neil seriously needs to give himself more credit for how much of a caring person he is because the way he indirectly told Jean that he thinks he is worth saving and didn't even hesitate before asking Stuart to send someone after That Guy after what Jean told him. Neil Josten the man that you are!!!

Jean's little sister Elodie what a beautiful name. Them being so close and him reading to her. The way he found out about her death jolted me differently. It was so awful and i'm so sorry Jean didn't get to see her grow up and meet her again.

Renee and Jean oh my god. Jean thinking she's beautiful (bitch me toooo) And the whole right person wrong time ugh i can't stand it. Him wearing her necklace all the time, enough that Jeremy always notices it. And unabashedly stealing her picture from the foxes lounge. Like he did not give a fuck. He said this one is mine. One good reason to stay alive being rainbows i'm gonna FKSJSKDHDH. Theirs would be such a soft love.

Speaking of soft loves Laila and Cat are EVERYTHINGGGG. God they are so cute with their little domestic life and their rich gay boy son who crashes on their couch with his cardboard cut out dog. That whole friendship dynamic is beautiful. Their fierce protectiveness and care over Jean as well and the patience they have with him even after the little kitchen incident. When Cat took Jean out for a drive on her motorcycle god that was such a heart warming moment and Jean helping them cook as well and becoming the girls' little sous chef it's so cute so endearing !!!

FINALLY FINALLY THE JEREJEAN DYNAMIC

PLEASE I'M GONNA SCREAM

Jeremy being the one who told Jean that Riko was dead i don't even know what to begin with THAT like hhhhhhh. The way they're both stupidly attracted to each other but won't/can't do anything about it. THE WHOLE "say yes Jeremy" SCENE WTF WAS THATTT I WAS GOING INSANEEEE. Both of them having to stop mid sentence when they catch the other looking FINE as hell. Jean being so obvious that even Lucas picks up on the way he looks at Jeremy. Jeremy being there to ground Jean in a Moment and helping him come down from it. Grabbing his face and telling him he's okay. Moving into the room with him to make him feel more comfortable !! The way Jean grabs Jeremy's chin (boiiiii). Jeremy constantly reminding Jean that he is NOT A RAVEN ANYMORE no matter how many times he has to say it. Jeremy saying he'll wait as long as it takes until Jean speaks to him. JEREMY GIVING HIM A HUG AND JEAN CLUTCHING DESPERATELY TO HIS SHIRT FUUCUFHDHSJHSSUHDH and then the "will you help me?" And the "Anything you need" AND THEY'RE GOING TO TAKE A CERAMICS CLASS TOGETHER?!?!?!!!! i can't i can't i can't i caaan'ttt

There's so much more to say but i'm gonna leave it at this for now because i need to go re-read it again and take my time with it this time round but i really could not have asked for anything better Nora truly outdid herself here !!! I'm forever grateful she blessed us with this after so long.

#i will probably be talking about all of this and more when it's safer to do so without spoilers #but yeah i just i cannot stress enough how PERFECT it was #everything i could want and more #god i love nora sm #the sunshine court spoilers #tsc spoilers #the sunshine court #tsc #all for the game #aftg #jean moreau #jeremy knox #renee walker #kevin day #neil josten #laila dermott #catalina alvarez #usc trojans #jerejean #jeanee #kevjean

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

The Agency's Older Brother: or, Ranpo's Character Development

I want to talk about Ranpo and the development he goes through in the series, because for as much as Ranpo is an important member of the Agency, his story is focused on in small chunks that may not always, at first read, seem to be overly significant. In fact, Ranpo’s arc is very consistent and I’m fascinated to know where it’s building to, because he’s done a lot of growing in the series. A lot of the themes of his story are to do with responsibility and faith in others.

The Ranpo we meet at the beginning of the story is not the Ranpo we see now. The biggest change is that he’s a lot more personally involved with the struggles of the Agency members, taking it on himself to be proactive and protective, while previously he had to be pushed and bribed into helping much of the time. When did this change?

Well...

[ID: Two screenshots from a scene in Poe's introductory episode of the Bungou Stray Dogs anime. In the first screenshot, Yosano lies on the carpeted ground, an axe embedded in her chest, blood pooling around her. Ranpo is crouched beside her, supporting her shoulders with one hand and clasping her hand with the other. The second screenshot is a close up of Ranpo's distressed face. End ID.]

The thing is, it's almost easy to overlook the effect this scene had on Ranpo, because Poe’s introductory chapter/episode is such a brief one. Moreover, afterwards, Poe becomes an ally and is a bit of a silly character, so it’s easy to forget sometimes that he was a legitimate threat here - and Yosano nearly died for it. This scene was incredibly significant to Ranpo for a few notable reasons.

It’s the first time someone in the Agency was in serious trouble/died without a backup plan.

It is, unfortunately, kind of on him. (Let me be real clear here: I am not blaming Ranpo. But he probably was blaming himself and that's something to keep in mind.)

To recap: Poe pulls Ranpo into his novel out of revenge, also trapping Yosano, who went with him. Ranpo realizes that they are in a world with no abilities, and importantly, he doesn't have the glasses Fukuzawa gave him.

We know those glasses mean a lot to him. When Ranpo was at his lowest, when he was convinced the world hated him, Fukuzawa gave him those glasses and told him he had a special ability. That he had a gift that no one else did that allowed him to see the truth that no one else could. Untold Origins makes it very clear that if Fukuzawa hadn't reached out to Ranpo when he did, Ranpo may have forever been outcasted. He was a kid kept in a bubble then suddenly and rudely shoved into a world he was unprepared to cope with, where he continued to get rejected and thrown out over and over - and all this on top of the grief he felt from his parents' passing. Ranpo was bitter and terrified of people, and thought everyone was pretending to be oblivious just to hurt him. Fukuzawa saved him the only way he could, in the only way Ranpo would hear him. It's not an exaggeration to say Fukuzawa saved Ranpo's life. And, while cute, it's also telling how quickly those glasses became an intrinsic part of his identity. Only maybe twenty minutes after he first received them, he was already making little doodles of himself wearing them.

Suddenly, the glasses are gone, and Ranpo goes into a funk because he "can't activate his ability without them". Obviously, we know that isn't true, and so does Yosano. Ranpo probably, deep down, knows this too, but to admit that would be to admit the president lied to him, and to uproot the very thing that gave him the means to perceive the world in a brighter light. The reason Fukuzawa had to lie in the first place was because the truth would be to tell Ranpo that his parents lied to him, something he angrily denies could ever be the case. And now, Fukuzawa is very plainly stated to be Ranpo's adoptive father. Ranpo's parents do not lie to him. He does not want to see it - and so he doesn't. This is a recurring thing with Ranpo. For as much as he sees the truth clearly, he also chooses not to see it at times when it would be uncomfortable/go against the intuition of someone he deeply trusts and respects.

And I think it's very easy to just leave it there, and say, "Oh, Ranpo realized at the end of this chapter/episode that he didn't need the glasses, that he doesn't have an ability, and that's a key turning point" but I don't feel that's the full picture or even the focus here, especially since Ranpo still hasn't reached the point where he can properly admit it aloud, even to Yosano.

The thing is, those glasses aren't just of use to Ranpo - they have sentimental value. A heck of a lot of it, for a character who is not very sentimental. The real turning point here is that Ranpo put on Yosano's glasses in order to save her.

[ID: A screenshot of a panel from the Bungou Stray Dogs manga. Ranpo puts on a pair of glasses. His hair is blown out of his face and he wears an intense expression. End ID.]

Shortly before this, we are informed by Yosano that not only was the Agency specifically formed for Ranpo to make use of his talents, but also that it was Ranpo who invited her to join - which we later learn was a pivotal moment for her to start over after she was completely broken by her experiences in the war. And now, he is watching her bleed out because she had to take over. Because he couldn't solve it. And that, to Ranpo, is unacceptable.

But again, there's more to it. Ranpo is fundamentally a self-centered character - this is not a judgement; I actually love that about him. He's the center of the Agency, the (ostensibly) good guys of the series; a narcissistic guy with little in the way of sensitivity who wants to use his skills to help others. Not for some higher ideal, or because it's "right" necessarily, but because he's good at it, and because he's supposed to protect all the "babies" who can't solve things for themselves. I love it because it highlights a major theme of BSD, which is good as something you do rather than something you are, and also because it explains something about Ranpo himself.

See, if everyone in the world is a "baby" who needs Ranpo's assistance, then the people in the Agency are a little different. They're people hand-picked by Fukuzawa to support him, both through praise and through backup. Remember that Ranpo trusts Fukuzawa's judgement more than anything - this means that he expects the Agency members can handle themselves. So, in chapter 10, when Ranpo doesn't really care that Atsushi has been taken, citing that it's a "personal problem" and he should handle it, I really think this was some odd form of "Atsushi will be fine" and "why should I worry or do anything when I know he'll be fine". And in the past, this has been true - the Agency members always pull through. None of them, up until that point, have been in a situation that they couldn't eventually fix. Ranpo has a bubble of safety in the Agency, that basically amounts to a "villain of the week" type beat from his perspective, where troubles gets fixed up pretty quickly. All in a day's work.

But then Yosano dies in Poe's book, someone he actually had some level of responsibility for when he invited her to join his safe little circle in a world that had no place for people like them. And it's a direct result of Ranpo's refusal/inability to act.

In order to fix this, Ranpo uses Yosano's glasses. The lens he's seeing through has changed. The people in the Agency were initially "his" in that they were meant to support Ranpo, the special one "chosen" by Fukuzawa's glasses, the reason for the Agency's existence in the first place. But now the people in the Agency are "his" in that they are his to protect. He's their big brother they all look up to in a way, and as the big brother, he's got to take responsibility for their safety.

Why did this not stand out in the moment? Well, we learn something about Ranpo from Untold Origins: he's very good at pretending he's doing okay and things aren't bothering him as much as they are. He's able to hold it together up until it all comes spilling out of him during the play. Also, I do think Ranpo cares about people a good deal more than he'd have you believe. A common fanon thing about Ranpo (from what I've seen) is that he tends to forget people, which, I can see how one would come to that conclusion, but I actually think it's completely wrong. I don't think Ranpo's forgotten a single person he's accused. I don't think he's forgotten a single person he's helped.

He lied about not remembering Poe, in fact, he remembered him pretty fondly as a real challenge. He remembers the information on a person from the Special Division he was asked to look into and gave the info to Mushitarou to allow him an in. He recognizes an officer he'd helped, and it's implied he recognizes every single officer who had been present while he was working on cases in the past. Does this mean he cares about all of them? ...eh. Probably not. But it does mean that Ranpo keeps a lot of his cards close to his chest. He's disarming with his intentional childishness. And so it can be difficult for the characters and readers both to notice that events like Yosano's almost-death... actually bothered him a lot more than he let on.

Because it was his fault. Because she was his responsibility. Because he's supposed to be invincible.

And unfortunately, the story from here on out does not get any kinder to Ranpo as his safe bubble that is the Agency is repeatedly targeted in ways that are increasingly hard to repair.

Fukuzawa falls ill and nearly dies in Cannibalism arc.

A girl gets blown up and Kunikida ends up in jail because Fyodor managed to manipulate Ranpo's intel.

Mushitarou is believed to have been shot and killed trying to warn Ranpo about the Decay of Angels plan.

Taneda bleeds out from a stab wound and falls into a coma. Ranpo can do nothing but listen and cannot get him help.

The amount of times Ranpo has seen people nearly die in front of him... bro it's almost as bad as Kunikida.

Much like Kunikida having extreme faith in his lofty ideals which make him fall just that much harder when he fails to uphold them, Ranpo has practically zero self-doubt and complete and utter confidence in his abilities... so when problems arise, Ranpo is very harsh on himself. He takes the blame because he's supposed to be better than that. Because he is the one with the powerful "ability" that should never fail.

In this sense, Ranpo's position in the Agency reminds me a lot of a certain person in the Port Mafia, someone who also has a powerful skill he puts towards protecting his own, someone who also received life changing words from the boss which earned him his loyalty, and someone who would do anything to defend the only place in the world he feels secure.

I think there's definitely a reason Cannibalism arc had Ranpo and Chuuya face off, I'm just saying. Both of them ostracized and thrown out as young teens by people who should've been looking out for them. Both the instigators of that arc, proactive and desperate to protect the person they are most loyal to who changed their perspectives. They've even got the same power stance, look. :P

[ID: Two panels from the Bungou Stray Dogs manga. The first is a panel of Ranpo with the silhouette of Fyodor behind him. He is standing with his hands in his pockets, facing front with his head tilted back and to the left a little, a fierce expression on his face and his cloak billowing outwards. The second is a panel of Chuuya standing in a similar manner, arms crossed, facing front with a fierce expression as his coat billows out around him. End ID.]

Of course, there's more interesting comparisons and contrasts to be drawn between them, but I'm focusing on Ranpo in this analysis, so I think I've made my point. Chuuya is the Port Mafia's best martial artist. Ranpo is the Agency's strongest man. And that places a burden of responsibility on them that they both believe they must uphold. They're both ready and willing to do whatever it takes.

The thing is though, is that Ranpo doesn't actually have an ability. When up against someone like Chuuya, he is at a distinct disadvantage, and he knows it. "Regular people can't defeat ability users". But he's still going to come up with a way to do it anyways, and why?

[ID: A screencap from the Bungou Stray Dogs anime. The members of the Agency all stand around Ranpo, who is seated at his desk with a smile, one hand holding his cap, the other held up in a casual gesture. The image is filtered in a soft light. End ID.]

Because his friends think he's invincible.

If Ranpo wants to maintain his safe place in a world of fear, then he has to step up to defend it, and he has to get creative about it. And that's exactly what he does. Ranpo becomes steadily more active throughout the story, which is a huge change from the start, where he had to be practically bribed to help at all. I see a lot of people point out his channeling of Fyodor's tactics to secure Kunikida's release, which is definitely a dark turn for his character, but it's not the only change.

Ranpo is now choosing to place his faith in others, the first obvious instance of this being his use of Poe's novels - which was how he defeated Chuuya. Ranpo knows that he is not going to succeed against people who drastically overpower him all alone, even if he does still take things on as personal burdens. He's also far more obvious about his protectiveness, going on the rescue himself to save the Agency members, driving a car (whereas before he needed someone to take transit with him - another indication of his increased proactivity since he's now literally driving instead of being driven), and bodily shoving Atsushi out of harm's way.

It all culminates in one of my favourite Ranpo scenes where he speaks at the conference to the police, who've worked with him before, where he asks if they will think for themselves - and tells everyone gathered there that anyone can be a detective if they think for themselves and look with their own eyes (!!!). He manages to get half the police force on his side, just through his words and his logic alone! Minoura assumes he somehow knew it would all work out, because, well, it's Ranpo. Ranpo knows everything.

But...

[ID: An image from the Bungou Stray Dogs manga. Ranpo sits in the passenger seat of a car with an honest, helpless smile. End ID.]

He reveals he didn't know if his ploy would work at all. He had to trust that it would with no solid proof. He had to trust these people would use their heads and look beyond the obvious. He respects these people enough that he thinks at least some of them will make the right call.

Fourteen year old Ranpo, bitter and estranged from other people, would never. For him to have come such a long way is testament to the security that the Agency provided him with. In a way, Fukuzawa forming the Agency allowed Ranpo to "complete" his childhood in relative safety, so that when the world became hostile once again and his family destabilized, Ranpo had matured enough to meet it and defend himself and those he has a responsibility towards head on. The Agency is his family, and Ranpo cares for them enough that he puts his faith, not just in them, but in the people they put their faith in too.

[ID: A panel from the Bungou Stray Dogs manga. Ranpo is kneeling in front of Fukuchi, who is sitting backwards on his chair to face him. End ID.]

...aaaaand then Fukuchi went and ruined it. Thanks, Fukuchi.

Ranpo again chooses to put his trust in someone without proof because Fukuzawa trusts him, only for that to have gotten thrown back into his face in the worst way possible. And it's in this regard, the trust aspect, that I think we'll see Ranpo develop as the story goes on.

Will he continue to show this tentative faith in people? Or will he begin to hyper-analyze, unwilling to trust again without proof?

If this arc gets resolved decently well, I think Ranpo will have no issue brushing this off as a one-time thing. However, if what I fear might happen does and Fukuzawa doesn't make it out of this arc... Ranpo will be destabilized.

I don't know that Ranpo would go "bad" per se. He likes the other Agency members. He cares about them - that's genuine. But if Fukuzawa dies, then Ranpo may begin to take darker actions in order to keep them safe, almost overprotective and harshly logical, with little room for blind trust or risks in the name of justice or honour. It may put him at odds with Kunikida, in that Ranpo may start to develop a strong "do what's necessary" mentality, even if that may be immoral. He may regress a little into his old trust issues.

However, I really don't think Ranpo will go too far down the path of darkness, even if the worst should happen. He's a lot tougher than he seems, and he has a good support system in the Agency. I guess it remains to be seen where Ranpo's story takes him next.

Until then...

[ID: A screencap from the Bungo Stray Dogs anime. Ranpo sits in his chair in a cuter art style, having taken a bite from the pastry he has in his left hand. End ID.]

I love one good boy. :)

#ranpo's such a good character man. there's so much i couldn't cover here but he's so so good. #but anyways. ahahahahaaaa i finished it! yesssss #sorry for the. VERY. long delay on this #i'm back baby #bsd #bsd ranpo #bsd meta #call me ace detective the way i am ace. and also a detective. #storyrambles #hope i got everything. whee.