#never really need to replace it type of thing

[conelluwrites]

I think about reader fucking up so bad, it makes Nam-gyu pause and re-evaluate his entire plan before deciding "I was going to leave with just a billion, but now? Now you're not leaving until we're the only two players left. You're going to split the prize money with me, and then I'm going to marry you."

Do whatever you want with this idea, I'm going to go pour one out for Nam-gyu's dead boyfriend and wonder how tf someone could threaten to marry you

You Shot Your Arrow Through Me

AO3 Link

Words: 3.5k

Requests open!

Warnings: Dark content (canon-typical Nam-gyu misogyny, violence, etc), manipulation, drug use, dry humping (dub con, public), forced kissing, special game doesn't happen, Nam-gyu has a VERY low opinion of reader, Thangyu isn't an explicit ship here but Nam-gyu does hallucinate his voice durign the fic so take that as you will, reader is pathetic (sorry for my strong girls, I projected a lil too close to the sun.)

Other: Longest fic i've done lessgooo. Mind was blank on how she could fuck up since she wouldn't be in the bathrooms for Thanos's death which was my first idea, so I just made it to where she voted to go home lol. Canon Nam-gyu I love you, you absolute bastard. I love the chance to write for more serious topics like this even if I usually just do cutesy type shit, so thank you for the opportunity, I hope it's kinda what you had in mind When I re-read it I feel like I didn't hit all the marks ( • ᴖ • ｡) My apologies if it's not exactly what you wanted.

When it comes to bad days, Nam-gyu has had his share of them.  Between drug deals gone wrong, fights in the club, bad trips and wrong drugs at the wrong time, he could never get a break.  It was always one thing after another, no slowing down- slowing down meant death and he wasn’t ready for that yet.  When he got invited to these shitty games, he knew he had to take it.  He needed the money; he needed a way out, or at least an illusion of a way out of his shitty life.  Who could blame him?  Certainly not any of the other players who seem to look down on him.  They’re all the same pathetic type of garbage that he is. The bathroom was a murder scene, he wasn’t even in control of his own actions as he fought and stabbed and mocked.  It was like he was just watching himself do it all, some astral projection shit.  He could barely register the blood as it decorates his face, his clothing, his hands.  When he’s done with the dumbshit on the ground, he stumbles over to Thanos.  He doesn’t know how to feel when he sees him convulsing on the floor and gurgling on his own blood.  Does it hurt? He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, not when he needs that cross around his bloodied, oozing neck.  He grimaces when blood pulses out of his neck as he tugs on it to pull it off.  Fucking sick, dude.  Keep it to yourself.  It’s slimy and wet when he puts it on, sticks to his skin in an uncomfortable manner.  Makes his skin crawl. It feels like a hazy nightmare as Nam-gyu stumbles to his bunk.  His breathing is hard and uneven, his movements stiff and uncomfortable.  He practically hears the whispers of Thanos in his ear, taunting and goading him, calling him that stupid fucking name Nam-su.  It eats him alive, makes him want to vomit, makes him want to peel his own skin off and replace it with steel.  When she comes into his line of sight, he feels himself lurch forward on his bed and click his tongue like he’s calling a dog.  The sudden movement and calling sound isn’t lost on her and she looks at him before looking down.  That dumb cunt is really there fidgeting as she walks forward, it aggravates him.  Can’t she think for herself, utterly pathetic. “Sit.”  He orders, his voice rough.  It cuts through the noise, at least in his own mind.  The way her head jerks back up and she nods slightly before walking over to him makes him smirk.  It’s a cruel, disgusting smirk that only exists for the sleaziest men to do.  Perfect lil thing, too bad she’s as dumb as a fucking box of rocks.She sits obediently on the bunk, though she’s all hunched up like a damn shrimp. Makes him stick to his fucking stomach.  What’s she got to be scared about huh?  He doesn’t take into the account the blood all over him or the way he looks like a tweaker.  Why should he take that into account?  She’s obeying like a good lil pup despite it all anyway.  Hell, this way she looks even weaker than that Min-su loser.  When he’s satisfied with her, he gives her a sharp hit on the back and leans back against the wall behind the bed. She voted to go home, of course that cunt did.  He couldn’t blame her, a poor thing like her expected to stay and mess up her pretty lil body for more money?  It’s laughable, truly.  Still ate him alive, made him wanna rip her limb from limb.  She agreed to vote O, so why did she think she could get away with that dumb shit?!  Must have thought that there were more pussies left over from the last game.  Too bad, so sad, she didn’t get to go home.  Now she’s stuck here with him.  It’s not like she has other options, nah… She wouldn’t rely on that pussy Min-su and by now the players all had their own little groups.

Hey, Nam-su

He grunts, there’s his annoying ass voice again.  Smug bastard disturbing him even in the afterlife.  Fuck, is he even dead yet or still twitching in the bathroom like some bug. I know you can hear me. He feels himself sweat even more.  He wants to tell him to shut up, that his name isn’t fucking Nam-su, but he doesn’t.  It barely did any good to say shit when he was alive.  Talking to a ghost in front of a bitch, well that’s not a good look at all.  He runs his hand over his face, shaking his head.  Disgusting.

It’s hard for her to even look at Nam-gyu, he looks like shit.  Smells like it too- sweat and blood cling to him like a tight fitting glove.  Not to mention the red X on her jacket sticks out like a sore thumb against her green tracksuit, it makes her feel self conscious as he sits staring off into space and murmurs to himself.  The room, much emptier than when the games begin, feels like it’s closing in on her.  She’s barely even able to process the way Nam-gyu acts, her hands tremble as she busies herself with the bottom of her tracksuit jacket.  It’s bloodied, but the blood has long since dried to where it doesn’t rub off of her hands. “Face me.”  His voice comes out trembling, making her look up.  Her heart is pounding so damn hard that it aches.  She obeys, of course she does, moving to where he can see her better.  She looks terrified, it’s so damn cute.  The way she looks like some lost, scared child.  It’s almost enough to calm down the incessant Nam-su, can you hear me, Nam-su ringing in his ears. “Nam-gyu,” she whispers, her voice cracking.  She knows she needs to ask for forgiveness, to come up with some excuse, some- some reason he could possibly give.  She hit the wrong button?  It was just an accident?  It was- it was- it was-

“Keep those eyes on me.  Stop looking around like you're so damn nervous, it’s annoying.”

“Sorry.”  It sounds so weak and small.

“Worthless apology.  Keep it to yourself.”

She has to bite back another apology.

His hands tremble as he pops open the cross in his hands.  He’s getting real sick of this shit, the way she looks, the way she sounds, the way Thanos’ voice still rings out in that annoyingly happy cadence.  He needs something, anything to numb the pain and he isn’t about to pump his limp dick in some whore like her for temporary relief.  He takes one pill in his mouth.  It’s disgustingly sweet, overwhelming sweet as it explodes over his tongue.  His eyes flutter shut for a moment and then open again, wide and wild as he looks at her.  The way her eyes glance down to his lips as he licks them before darting back up.  It’s enough to make his chest clench in a twisted way.  Another pill, he needs another one. He can’t afford to be feeling like a pussy over such a dumb cunt.  It’s even sweeter this time, it makes him close his eyes tight for a second and then they’re wide open again.  They don’t take a long time to work, thank fucking Chirst for that.  He can’t imagine it taking a normal time to kick in. “You don’t need to do that.”  She warns, it comes out without her even thinking.  She doesn’t want to feel responsible for him if he overdoses and starts seizing next to her.  He grumbles something under his breath, definitely something derogatory- definitely something that doesn’t need to be said.

The world ignites in more vivid colors, though within the confines of the walls it really only makes the green of the jumpsuits stand out even more starkly against the gray walls.  The red of her velcro badge sticks out even more though, drawing his attention like a moth to a flame.  Her tugs on it, then his thumb brushes over the patch.  Fuck, it feels good agaisnt his digit.  All soft and shit.  He licks his dry lips again, patting her shoulder. Hah, shit, guess he really is becoming a pussy over this whore.  The way she looks at them with those concerned eyes, her fingers curling up tight in her sleeves, and of course her lips…  He wonders what it’d feel like to push his against her, he wouldn’t care if she kissed back or not but he imagines she would feel like velvet even if he smashed his against her so hard that it hurt her.  Fuck, he imagines what kinda pretty noises she’d make, if she’s grab onto him tightly or struggle to push him away.  He’s so far in his simple thoughts that it makes her concerned.

“Hey, you okay?”  She stammers out, leaning in to press a wrist over his forehead.  Fuck he’s so sweaty, but at least his eyes follow her movements so he’s okay enough, he’s not so out of it that he’s impossible.

“Yeah, I’m good.  Real good.”  He gives her a smile he thinks is charming. She gives him a nod, she remembers when he and Thanos were discussing what kind of shit he’s done so surely a couple pills won’t kill him.  She’s just on edge, as much as she wants to go home she knows that she can’t lose the last strong person on her team.  Sure, she can go to Min-su, he wouldn’t turn her away at least, but if the next game was a team game relying on strength then they’d be a bit screwed.

She’s jerked from her thoughts as he suddenly cups her face.  She grimaces at the feeling, his sticky, bloodied hand leaving a mark on her delicate skin.  She flinches away, but he just holds her cheeks harder.  His short nails dig slightly into her soft cheeks.  “You’re not going anywhere, right now you’re mine.  Let me see your pretty face.”  Let me remind myself what it’s like to feel alive.  

I want to spend the rest of my life with this piece of work.  Make her my bitch forever, make her permanently tied to me.  I don’t love this whore, I could never.  Just want her to remember every day of her life that she’s stuck with me- a constant reminder of this hell.  I bet she’d love the hell out of that, waking up every day with a reminder of the blood on her hands from voting correctly up to this point.  What a way to get married, huh?  What a perfect goddamn reason to wife someone up.

Make sure she wakes up every day to see my face, maybe even get some of that dumb fake blood to decorate my face just like this.  Fuck, imagine the look on her face- it’d be so damn perfect.  She’d never be able to escape the reality we’ve faced.  The reality we’ve faced together, the reality we’ve forged with simple votes.  Remind her dumbass every day of the people we knew, maybe even dye my hair goddamn purple.  Wouldn’t that be sweet?  I bet I could even paint a pretty, vivid picture of his damn corpse, tell her all about the gurgles and sputtering coughs.  Maybe instead of a ring I could just have her wear his damn necklace.

I wonder if she’d even put up a fight or just accept it right out, no questions asked like some good little bitch.  She’d probably look at me with those dumb confused eyes and wonder what the hell’s gotten into me, thinking it’s just the drug talking when this is far better than some singular trip or a thought I’d only have while I’m high.

He doesn’t say anything audibly, he just stares at her like a freak as if he thinks she can read his mind.  His pupils are blown so wide, his lips parted slightly and his breath coming out in pants.  His mind is racing so fast he can hardly finish one thought before another takes its place.  He knows he’s scaring her, the way she bites her bottom lip and looks frantically over his face while taking in every microexpression he makes.

“Stop looking at me like that, it makes you look ridiculous.”  He says, rolling his eyes but his words don’t sound venomous in the slightest.  He’s too high for that shit, it’s a wonder how he could even get the words out without slurring them so bad it was incomprehensible. “Right, sorry.”

“Again with the pointless apologies.  Don’t you ever get tired with that bullshit?” “No.”  A simple response, but it’s the honest one.  Apologies spill from her lips like a robot at this point whenever someone expresses even the slightest displeasure with her.

He can’t formulate a response that makes sense even to him, what is he supposed to say- No, no, you’re supposed to say ‘yes’ so I can keep seeing those pretty little lips of yours moving.

Her lips, her lips, her lips.  They’re so damn kissable, part of him wants to slip one of those lil pills that make him feel so damn good but he’s already taken two…  He’s gotta be smart about rationing the rest of the pills if he’s gonna make it through the games without losing his damn mind.  He doesn’t even notice he’s leaning in until she pushes against his shoulders slightly.  Goddamn his vision is hazy, she must be an angel of some kind surely to not slap him across the face.  C’mon, some druggie trying to kiss on someone who’s visibly uncomfortable- get a damn hold of yourself. “Don’t push me away.”  He commands, his voice sharper than intended.  It makes her curl her fingers into his tracksuit jacket, her swallowing audible.  Good girl, real good.  How cute of her.  He could get real used to this.  “Just let me kiss you, just once.” He grunts, leaning in again.  He watches as her cute lil eyes clench up tightly like she can will herself to be anywhere else, it’d be cute if it weren’t so fucking pathetic.  “Just like that…” he whispers, then his lips touch hers. He imagines it’d be powerful even without the drugs running wildly through his system like electricity rapidly zapping around.  But with the drugs?  Oh shit- with the drugs- it’s so intense it makes him gasp like some loser pussy.  Sure, she’s far from the first person he’s kissed while on some dumb shit, but he doesn’t think he’s ever felt a kiss like this.  Her lips aren’t pliable, far from it, but it still feels good enough that it makes his heart race.  He presses his lips harder to hers as if it’ll make her kiss him back or relax her lips.  He growls from the back of his throat, his hands moving to cup the back of her head.  His lips move demandingly against hers until she loosens up more. Man, when she loosens up?  It opens a whole new world for him to explore.  His tongue feels disconnected from his mouth as it moves into her mouth.  She’s delicious, he figures that’s gotta be an objective fact.  Her resistance, her fear, her everything- it’s perfect.  He tries to goad her tongue into moving with his, but he doesn’t care at the end of the day if he’s the only one actively kissing.  He wants more- needs more, needs to feel that body of hers moving against his more.  He wants to feel her on his lap, wants to feel those fingers curling up into his greasy, sweaty hair. He can’t calm himself down, not after those thoughts start.  When they start, they don’t stop.  Her riding him, the way her whiny little moans would fill the room full of these damn cockroaches.  Showing everyone that she’s his in the best way possible, a way that she would be unable to take back.  He knows she’d never agree to something like that and he’d never be able to get away with it, not here.  She’s also stupid, but not stupid enough to come with him to the bathroom.  Sure, he could threaten her, but he wants her to want him too.  The second best thing makes his skin crawl, he’s not some fucking teenager anymore, but it would be better than nothing. “Not so bad, huh?”  He pulls away after a moment, his lips turned up in some sort of a bastardized grin.  He could eat her up, really.  Mark up that pretty skin of hers.

“...”  She wipes her lips with the back of her hand.  She looks disgusted, angry even, but doesn’t say shit. “Tell you what, girl, why do you sit your pretty lil self down on my lap, hm?”  He pats his lap invitingly, nodding down to his legs. “C’mon. Let’s talk.”  He purrs, though it’s not nearly as charming as he believes it is.  She knows he won’t give up and if she tries to stand up and go anywhere else he’ll just tug her back down on the bed.  She relents after he nods his head again, rolling her eyes and climbing onto his lap.  He lets out a low groan, adjusting her so she’s straddling him rather than sitting sideways.  “Good, good, just like that.” His erection is obnoxiously apparent, he knows she has to be able to feel it against her ass as he stares up at her.  She’s the prettiest damn thing he’s seen he decides in that moment.  The way she looks into his eyes, her hands twitching and hesitating in the way before her hands settle on his shoulders.  One of his hands rests on her hip while the other cups her cheek. It’s some cruel mockery of affection, one that makes her blood run cold. “Gonna move you ‘round now, ‘kay?  Don’t draw attention to us.”  With that, he begins to slowly rock his hips up.  It’s not enough to be visible to anyone unless they’re watching the pair closely, but it’s enough for Nam-gyu’s sensitive cock to jerk and twitch.  He won’t last long, the drugs making his sensitive cock even more sensitive.  Each movement makes him leak in his underwear.  It’s damn embarrassing but he doesn’t have time to care, not when she makes a cute lil gasp.

“Nam-gyu…”  She doesn’t explicitly tell him to stop, which is enough for him to wrap his arms around her, nuzzling into her neck, and inhale deeply.  Her scent is marred by the sweat that is on everyone’s skin, but it’s still so… so her. “Shh.  Don’t talk, just let me do this.” Slow, slow, slow, he can’t move too fast and risk her getting so uncomfortable that she starts to fight back or make more noise.  He just needs to rut enough to come, he can go to the bathroom afterwards and clean himself up- surely the corpses that litter than damned floor have been cleaned out by now. He grunts, biting into her shirt.  All he can think about is how good her panty clad ass would feel against his bare cock, he doesn’t even care about fucking into her at this point, he just wants to feel her skin against his.  He knows it's not possible, not yet, but fuck when they’re the final two and they vote to leave and make it out with all that fucking money?  He’s gonna celebrate by feeling all of her. He ruts against her harder, he’s close… so, so, so fucking close.  “Say my name.” “Wha-?”

“Say.  My.  Name.”  It’s almost hard to understand him with the way he’s biting her shirt and growling silently.

“Nam-gyu?”

There it is, he nods.  He wants to hear it again and again and again for the rest of his damn life.

“Nam-gyu.”

Ah- she repeats it, this time without that stupid fucking confused intonation.  He buries his face harder against her shoulder and grips her harder.  “Again.”

“Nam-gyu.   Nam-gyu…  Do it for me.”

Fuck, her voice is so breathless and needy.  He loves it.  He can’t hold back, not when she sounds like that.  A low, gurgled groan leaves him as his cock pulses and pumps out spurts of cum.  He can feel it spreading through his boxers and to the front of those stupid tracksuit pants. “Yes, for you, for my fuckin’ girl.”

His legs tremble slightly as he comes down from his high, hips languidly rolling up to get him through his high until he’s fully spent.  It feels beautiful.  It’s perfection, really, heavenly even.  It’s a spiritual experience.  A few moments pass, “Gonna make you marry me, baby doll.  Gonna be just us at the end of this shitshow.  Split the money, start a new life, it’ll be perfect.”

[usmsgutterson]

you ever just look something up expecting it to be way more expensive than it is because of one other random, but still in the same bracket of thing that you know is expensive, and prepare yourself to see expensive pricing and then get all shocked when the thing you're looking up is reasonably priced?

[sysig]

But would you tho (Patreon)

[ebitenpura]

trying to think of a reversed IA/Hunter AU where they switch roles in the story but it's not...exactly working. food for thought, though

[vampiremourning]

sometimes disability aids are things you would expect them to be, sometimes its a collective giving-in & soliciting the help of a professional organizer to tackle the massive piles of Stuff crowding the house.

[time-teller]

vent again, just.. UGHG I'M GOING TO WRING HIS FUCKING NECK WHEN I FIND HIM

[snekdood]

the worst thing about that poly relationship i was vaguing about- is how willing i was to let any and all romance fall to the side for their little romance plot to be fullfilled and very "story book" or whatever, was literally trying to push him to be more romantic with the meta, I was already falling out of love with the dude involved anyways bc he just was not capable of being what I needed, I was perfectly content JUST being friends but nah. even thats too much of a threat. theres still too much of a possibility of him conceivably leaving that person for me or some shit I guess, even though I DONT FUCKING WANT HIM LIKE THAT ANYMORE.

[i-am-a-fish]

Sex Ed Time

ok I'm gonna tell you about some things that might happen if you are transitioning m->f. this is not a comprehensive list just my own experience, be sure to do your own research I just really wanted to voice how this affects me because I think open discussion about this type of stuff is just more helpful for everyone rather than keeping it private

BOOBS HURT WHEN THEY GROW

your sex drive (libido) will probably go down a lot

facial hair is very hard to get rid of

my go-to gender affirming clothing is high-waisted jeans. I suggest going to a goodwill or some sort of cheap store that lets you try on clothes to figure out what you like

muscle mass will go down, fat will be redistributed

boobs do all sorts of crazy stuff when you run / exercise

overtime your skin will get softer, you also might smell nicer, and I've been told it can thin body hair but I don't really see it all that much 🤷

your brain chemistry can change when you reduce testosterone and increase estrogen, there are lots of factors that contribute toward any changes to your personality, but hormones can have an impact as well. for me this is a good thing because I struggle with allowing myself to feel emotions sometimes, no matter how hard I tried I was never really able to get myself to cry. I've gotten closer to being able to cry since I started transitioning though and that makes me very happy

this is a slow process that can take several years, ultimately you're going to be in your body for several years regardless, so if this is something you want it's definitely something you should try to pursue if possible. the time will pass anyways, and it does feel nice to work towards something that can make you happier.

also this is very important, you don't need to do any sort of hormone replacement therapy in order to be trans. not everybody can access HRT, and for those who can access it, not everybody wants to take on all the changes that come with treatments. you don't have to chemically or physically change your body in any way in order to deserve respect

all right that's all I have for right now feel free to add anything in the comments, I would especially like to hear from trans men what your experiences have been, I think openly talking about these types of things can really help some people

[seumyo]

imagine how heavy bakugou’s gauntlets are to you.

You weren’t entirely sure what you had done to deserve this.

Maybe you had done something awful in your past life, and it’s finally come to bite you back in the ass.

Sure, you were a UA student. Sure, you had signed up for the hero course, fully aware that it would involve combat training. But this? Holding onto one of Bakugou’s gauntlets—the same gauntlets that had nearly blown Midoriya through a building during the first battle exercise?

You could already see your funeral.

Your relatives all coming together under one roof to mourn you.

Your fingers curled stiffly around the massive piece of equipment, your right arm straining slightly under its sheer weight. You had always known they were heavy—Bakugou’s combat style revolved around explosive power, and he wasn’t the type to wield anything flimsy—but this?

This felt like holding a compact boulder.

A boulder filled with nitroglycerin-laced sweat.

That part was arguably worse.

It’s like lifting a weight that never really lightens over time.

Your mind raced with the implications.

His gauntlets stored his sweat to maximize explosive output. Which meant the one you were holding was loaded. Which meant if you even thought about holding it wrong, you’d be gone. Reduced to nothing but a crisp outline on the ground.

Holding an explosive hazard had never been part of your bucket list.

You could not channel your inner Meredith Grey and take one for the team to hold a bomb.

“I—” you started, your voice thin and weak. “I don’t think I should be holding this.”

Bakugou, standing in front of you with his arms crossed, narrowed his eyes. “And why the hell not?”

Because it was a bomb, for starters.

Because it was his bomb, specifically made for him, and you had just been handed it like it was some casual training exercise and not a potential death sentence.

Instead of voicing any of this, you swallowed hard and said, “I—I just don’t think I’m qualified? Don’t I need to have a seminar for this? Maybe a safety waiver?”

Bakugou scoffed. “That’s bullshit.”

Your grip tightened reflexively.

Oh god, was that too tight?

Was it going to go off?

Bakugou’s eyes flicked down to your hands, then back to your face. “Your Quirk makes shit weightless and indestructible, right?”

You nodded hesitantly.

“Then you’re the best person to hold it,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But—”

“No buts,” he interrupted. “You wanna play defense all the time? Fine. But in the real world, you need to learn how to hit back. Can’t stand your damsel-in-distress act every situation, shithead.”

You bit your lip.

He wasn’t wrong, but… you had seen firsthand how much destruction his Quirk could cause. He had gone all out against Midoriya back then, using these very same gauntlets to unleash a massive blast that almost ruptured an entire building. You hadn’t even been in the fight, but you had felt the heat from a distance and had heard the deafening roar of the explosions echoing across the control room.

And now you were the one holding it.

“…It’s not gonna explode on me, right?” you asked.

Bakugou rolled his eyes so hard you were surprised they didn’t get stuck.

“Not unless you’re stupid.”

That wasn’t reassuring.

Not at all.

You swallowed again, forcing yourself to focus. You weren’t completely helpless. Your Quirk made whatever you held weightless and invincible. If you activated it now, you wouldn’t have to worry about the gauntlet’s weight—or about dropping it by accident and, in turn, detonating it.

Taking a deep breath, you firmly held the gauntlet with both hands.

The effect was immediate.

The heaviness vanished entirely, replaced by a strange, almost floating sensation. Your fingers adjusted around the gauntlet’s surface with ease, no longer struggling against its weight. A faint, translucent glow coated the edges, a telltale sign that your Quirk had fully activated.

You exhaled, relieved.

“Okay. I think I got it.”

Bakugou smirked. “Took you long enough.” He stepped in close without warning, his hands reaching for your wrists.

You barely had time to react before his grip closed around them, adjusting your stance.

Your brain blanked.

Bakugou was close. Too close.

You could feel the heat radiating off him, his fingers strong and sure as they repositioned your hold. He smelled like sweat and burnt caramel—like fire and something sharper underneath, something distinctly him.

(You tried not to think about it too much.)

If you hadn’t already been panicking about the gauntlet, you definitely were now.

(You were falling—ahem, failing at not thinking too much about it.)

“Loosen up,” he said, his breath ghosting over your ear. “You’re gripping it like it’s a fucking live grenade.”

“Isn’t it, though?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

He grinned.

Oh no.

That was a bad sign.

“Not yet,” he said, sounding far too entertained. “But it will be.”

You let out a strangled noise.

Bakugou ignored it, stepping behind you so that you were completely boxed in by his presence. His hands remained firm on yours, his chest nearly pressing against your back as he guided your aim.

Your brain was screaming.

It wasn’t like you were new to close contact—UA training often involved being thrown around by classmates—but this was different. This was Bakugou Katsuki, infamous for his temper and even more explosive Quirk, pressed up against you like it was nothing. Like you weren’t about to spontaneously combust just from the sheer proximity.

Maybe you were thinking too much into it.

“Alright,” he murmured, tilting your wrists slightly. “On my mark, let go.”

You nodded weakly, hoping he couldn’t feel how fast your pulse was racing.

“Three…”

You swallowed.

“Two…”

Oh god.

“One.”

You released, letting your left hand fall, Quirk disabling instantly as the barrier lightened.

The explosion erupted in an instant, the force slamming through the air like a shockwave. The ground trembled beneath them, a scorching heatwave blasting outward as the impact roared across the training field.

You barely had time to process any of it before you felt yourself lurching backward, the recoil throwing you off balance—

Strong arms wrapped around your waist, anchoring you firmly in place.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Bakugou had caught you.

His grip was solid, his chest firm against your back, keeping you steady against the sheer force of the explosion. His hand pressed against your stomach, holding you still as the last remnants of the blast dissipated into the air.

For a second, neither of you moved.

...

It was bad enough that you had just fired one of his gauntlets, but now you were in his arms? With his hand on your waist?

Man, maybe you should’ve been the gauntlet’s target instead.

Bakugou didn’t say anything at first, just exhaled through his nose before slowly releasing you, letting you find your footing again.

You stumbled slightly.

He steadied you with a single hand on your shoulder. “You good?”

You turned to look at him, still in too much shock to form a proper response. “Y—eah?” you replied after a moment.

Bakugou raised a brow. Then, to your absolute horror, his lips curled into an infuriating smirk. “Tch. Dumbass,” he says. “Not too bad, eh?”

“I could’ve died.”

“Nah.”

“I’m scared that you’re carrying heavy weight—bombs around like it doesn’t weigh a ton.”

A shrug. “Training.”

Your hands were still clammy.

Probably not from fear anymore.

“You wanna try using the other one?” he offered, surprising you and himself, really.

...

“Yeah. Fuck yeah, let’s do it.”

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[parkers-gal]

promise J.B.

summary: bucky is protective over reader, the new lab assistant and resident doctor at the compound

wc: 2k

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

a/n: no warnings (lmk if i missed anything). barely proof read. requests are open!

═══════════ ⋆★⋆ ═══════════

the first time he met you, he was expecting dr. cho’s usual lab assistant. it was meant to be a brief check in after his latest mission with sam, just a minor tweak to a piece of tech on his uniform. 

“hey, do you thin-” bucky strides in to dr. miller’s office, full tactical suit still on. he’d came straight from the quinjet, but glancing up from his arm holster he notices that dr. miller’s office is now replaced by your office. 

you look up from your lab report, a pile of open wires laying beside it as you twiddle with the machinery. “oh, i’m sorry. i think dr. banner forgot to notify you: dr. miller transferred to shield co-op missions. i’m his replacement.” you wipe the sweat from your hand onto your white lab coat and stand from your chair. “i’m y/n.”

bucky reads the nametag on your labcoat, dr. l/n. “oh.” his eyes move from the tag to your eyes. “sorry.” 

your smile immediately shifts whatever emotions he just had about the situation. your expression is soft and for a moment, bucky thinks you’re too innocent to be working in a business surrounded by violence. it provokes something deep in his stomach, something he can’t quite place.

“i’d be happy to assist you with whatever you need, though!” you smile again, this one giving bucky an even warmer feeling through his chest. “i already read all of dr. miller’s previous lab reports, and i’m just as good with needles as i am with technology.” you shift your head towards the mutilated hardware on your desk, then smile back at bucky.

he almost chuckles. almost. instead, he adorns a smirk, so subtle you might not have caught it had you not been staring at him, waiting for a reply. hesitantly, he steps forward, holding his arm out to show you what he needs changed.

that was four months ago. now, bucky looks for any excuse to head to your office, whether it be a slightly twisted wrist, a broken button on his suit, or even a question about a new weapon for his next mission. 

“what can i do for you today, james?” your back is turned to him. you’re busy fiddling with a microscope, but bucky can hear the smile on your face.

“bucky,” he corrects. “are you going to tony’s gala this saturday?”

you stop squinting and stand upright, turning to face him. you have a quizzical look on your face. “do doctors usually go to those sorts of things?”

bucky shrugs. “i think dr. cho has before.”

you hum, turning back to the microscope. “well, i do need to catch up with natasha…” you turn the knob for the lens. “is that why you came to see me?”

he pauses. you hear his feet shuffling and smile to yourself. “i just wanted to ask about… my… belt.”

you suppress a laugh and face him again “really?” you grin. “your belt?”

he hums, a tint spreading on his cheeks. 

“well, i haven’t had lunch yet, if you would like to get something for us, we can talk about your belt during my break.”

his head perks up at that. “okay, i’ll be back in twenty.”

he’s out of the room so quick and it makes you smile again. as you turn back to the microscope, somebody else enters.

“back alread- oh.” 

john walker. 

you have never been particularly fond of him, especially after a heated argument he had with sam and steve a couple months back. he works for shield, but sometimes they send him to the avenger’s compound to retrieve specific types of upgrades or get intel about an overlapping mission. 

“aw, don’t seem too disappointed, sweets.” he smiles, the image disgusting you. 

you walk away from the microscope towards a centrifuge sitting on the opposite counter. 

“what can i help you with?”

“what, i come all this way and i can’t just talk to you?”

you bite your lip. “i’m afraid i don’t understand.”

he laughs. “i want to get to know you.”

“like right now?”

“right now… over dinner…” he smiles again, the same disgusting one. “whichever you prefer.”

unsure on how to reply, you turn back to the machine. “i don’t know if that’s appropriate.”

“but it’s okay if you do it with bucky?”

“what about me?” bucky steps through the door with a bag of food in one hand. once noticing john, his jaw clicks. “what are you doing here?”

“just wanted to talk to the lady, that’s all.” he shrugs his shoulders. “is that against the law?”

“it is if she doesn’t want that.”

your gaze shifts to bucky. his blue eyes are piercing, and his gaze is colder than any he’s ever given you. you sense the tension growing the longer he stares at john. 

john interrupts the silence. “what’s the issue, man?” he steps towards bucky. it’s a small step, but it has bucky rigid. “it’s not like she’s taken. she’s free game.”

bucky scoffs. “if you speak about women like they’re prizes to win then you don’t deserve to speak to them.”

your heart flutters. after all he’s been through, bucky still chooses to be an amazing guy. your admiration for him only grows. 

“nobody said anything about that.” john raises his hands in surrender. “don’t get jealous… it’s not like she’s yours…”

his jaw clenches again. you can see his hands are balled into fists at his side. faintly, you hear the whirring of the metal plates in his arm. 

“i think you should leave.”

bucky steps aside, clearing a space for john to walk out the door. reluctantly, he leaves, but not before sparing you another glance and whispering a “call me.”

when he’s finally left the room, you exhale, glancing back to bucky and his tense shoulders. 

“thank you… for that.”

he blinks. his eyes finally find you and he blinks away the tension. 

“of course. you shouldn’t have to put up with that, especially in your place of work.”

you nod and a shy smile takes over your face. you move a strand of hair to behind your ear and turn back to the machine so bucky doesn’t notice your face. he does anyway.

“so, lunch?”

═══════════ ⋆★⋆ ═══════════

saturday evening rolls around and, after having double checked with tony and natasha about the validity of your invitation, you get dressed for the gala. the dress fits your form and drapes down to just below your knees. you pair it with a simple pair of heels and your favorite necklace. 

you hope bucky likes it.

stop. that’s inappropriate. we’re work colleagues. he would’ve helped out any girl that needed it, he-

oh fuck.

you notice him immediately. he’s sat at the bar talking to steve, legs draped off the bar seat, thighs thick even in his dress pants. his long hair is neatly swept back, and the glass of bourbon in his metal hand clinks from the ice. 

natasha spots you first. she was just by the entrance, and she immediately greets you.

“how are you?”

you smile at her, happy to be with her after having not had the chance lately. “good, busy in the lab as always.”

she chuckles understandingly. “seems like tony has everyone working overtime.”

she goes on about one thing or another, but at some point you tune her out because bucky has finally noticed you. you can tell he’s tuned steve out too. 

he can’t stop staring. granted, he always stares at everyone, but the way he looks at you differs from that so much. it has your knees weak and you can feel your heart pound a little harder in your chest. his tongue darts out to wet his lips and the faintest smirk appears on his face.

steve turns around to see what his best friend is staring at. noticing you, he leans his head back at the sudden enlightenment and faces bucky. he speaks lowly, “why don’t you ask her out?”

bucky jerks his head towards steve. “what?” he’s defensive at having just been caught. “why would i do that?”

steve rolls his eyes. “because visiting her office everyday is totally normal…” his tone is laced with sarcasm.

you’ve been spending too much time with sam.

“shut up.”

“so you don’t like her, then?”

“i-” bucky huffs. “i never said that.”

“well, i’d act fast.”

his brows furrow. “Why?”

steve points towards you and bucky’s gaze shifts from his best friend to you. there, john walker attempts to offer you a drink, and bucky can tell even from his distant spot at the bar that you’re smiling to be polite.

he doesn’t reply to steve, abandoning his drink and his friend at the bar as he makes his way over to you. 

“can i help you?”

john has to turn to look at bucky, his smile dropping. you can tell he’s aggravated by the presence of the former winter soldier.

“no, i think we’re good.” he doesn’t even attempt to make his smile look genuine.

“i don’t think we are.” bucky steps closer to you. his head dips down, lips close to your ear as he speaks in a low whisper. “you okay, peaches?”

you smile, giddy at the sudden pet name. you nod gently, grateful for bucky’s care, and try not to bite your lip from the interaction. 

“why don’t you go somewhere else?” bucky’s gentle tone is replaced with a stoic one, his annoyance for john returning.

“why can’t i just talk to the girl?” he looks at you expecting your defense.

bucky’s left hand wraps around your waist. his fingers rub your side softly, gracing your hip. your stomach flips in a fit of butterflies. the sudden act of affection has your knees buckling. you want him to pull you closer in case you collapse.

“she’s not interested.” 

john’s eyes widen slightly and he backs away, muttering something under his breath. you feel bucky’s metal fingers squeeze your side slightly. he turns to look at you. 

“i’m sorry about him.”

you can barely hold eye contact. “it’s not your fault.” a sudden boost in courage has you pulling your hand up to smooth out the lapel of his suit. “besides, you’re my hero.”

his eyes flicker with appreciation at having been called that. “yeah?”

you hum in agreement. his other hand reaches towards your face, tracing the hair that sits behind your ear, pinned up in the updo you’ve done for the gala. another stomach flip.

“in that case, does your hero get any reward?” he has a playful smirk, his tone light.

“i suppose…” you smile back. “got anything in mind?”

he pulls you until you're facing him directly. his other hand sits at your waist, too. now you can’t look away, forced to look into his eyes as he undresses you with them. he hums as if the answer sits on his tongue. his metal hand pulls you forward, forcing you to take a step closer to him. his flesh hand moves from your waist to your cheek, nose brushing against yours, delicate, like a dance. his breath fans against your face and your eyelids flutter shut. you exhale, a bundle of nerves leaving too.

his lips ghost against yours, waiting to see if you’d pull back or say you’re crossing a line. you don’t dare stop him. you feel his lips curve slightly; he’s smirking against you. before it grows anymore, his lips connect with yours, warm and supple and tender. he kisses you like every second is a promise, like he wants the world to know you’ll never be anyone else’s.

and now, you know it’s a promise he’ll never break. 

[thestarsaboveme]

Reader thinks the Lads men are cheating with MC

masterlist

this was a request from a kind anon.

summary: angst with comfort, reader and lads men having a misunderstanding because reader is overthinking that they’re cheating on her with the mc since they always spend time with the mc and spending less time with the reader.

xavier ver. | rafayel ver. | zayne ver. | sylus ver.

caleb x reader | angst/comfort

There was a time when Caleb used to show up with your favorite drink before you even asked.

He'd call you ''pipsqueak'', kiss your forehead, and ramble about the most bizarre cosmic theories while you curled up beside him.

Now…the only thing constant was his absence.

And MC.

-

''I'm going out with MC again today,'' he'd said casually that morning, slipping on his jacket. ''She's got some readings I wanna help her decode.''

You nodded, trying to be supportive. ''Again?''

He glanced at you. ''Yeah. We've been making progress. She's intuitive. Gets the rhythm of it.''

You gave a faint smile. ''Right.''

He leaned down, kissed your cheek quickly, and said, ''I'll be back late, but I'll text you, okay?''

But he didn't.

Again.

-

You scrolled through your messages that night, seeing blue bubble after blue bubble with no replies.

Dinner's ready if you want to swing by.

Hope the readings are going well.

Are you okay? It's getting late.

Each one unanswered.

And then your heart twisted when you checked MC's social feed. Just a short video clip of her and Caleb, both laughing as he showed her something on a holographic tablet.

He looked happy. Relaxed. Engaged.

The kind of look he used to save for you.

-

It wasn't just tonight. It had been weeks.

You told yourself it was work. That MC was a client, a partner, a hero in her own right. Of course Caleb would be focused on her.

But even when you were in the room with him lately…you still felt alone.

Like he was always looking past you. Toward someone else.

You didn't even notice your hands were trembling as you typed the message.

I need to talk. Can you come over? Please?

It took six minutes for his reply to come through.

On my way. Give me 15.

-

He arrived exactly 15 minutes later, his hair wind-tossled, coat still half-zipped, and an easy smile on his lips that immediately faded when he saw your face.

''Hey…what's wrong?'' he asked, stepping inside.

You didn't answer right away. You just stood there, looking at him, trying to figure out where the boy you fell in love with had gone.

''You and MC seem close,'' you said finally.

Caleb blinked, confused. ''I mean, yeah. We've been working side by side for a while. Why?''

You looked away. ''Are you cheating on me?''

The words cut through the room like a sharp blade.

His mouth parted slightly, stunned. ''What?''

''I need to know, Caleb. I can't keep pretending this isn't eating me alive.''

He took a slow step toward you. ''Pipsqueak…no. I would never. Where is this coming from?''

You laughed bitterly. ''From weeks of watching you give her your time, your focus, your energy. And leaving me with scraps. From seeing the way you light up around her. From missing you when you're standing right in front of me.''

His brows pulled together, the easy charm in his expression replaced by something heavier.

''Is that really how you feel?''

''I don't know how else to feel. You don't look at me the way you used to. You don't see me.''

He ran a hand through his hair. ''I didn't know it had gotten this bad.''

''That's the problem,'' you whispered. ''You're so good at reading the stars, Caleb. But you haven't been reading me.''

Silence stretched between you.

Then, in a voice low and raw, he said, ''You're right.''

You stared at him, heart pounding.

''I've been out of sync. Focused on work. On helping MC process everything she's dealing with,'' he said. ''And I thought…I thought you were okay. That we were okay.''

''Because I didn't say anything sooner?''

''Because I wanted to believe we were solid enough to weather it,'' he said. ''But I see now I've been neglecting the one thing I can't afford to lose.''

You folded your arms tightly. ''So what was it, then? Just convenience? You two work well together, so I got put on the backburner?''

He stepped forward, voice steady but filled with something deeper. ''You were never on the backburner. MC is a colleague. A friend. Someone I respect. But you…''

He stopped, looking straight into your eyes.

''You're the only person I've ever loved without fear.''

Your breath caught.

''You think I'm fearless, right?'' he said. ''The charming one. The one who always has a line ready. But you terrify me.''

''Why?''

''Because you're real,'' he said. ''Because you see through all the masks. Because when I'm with you, I'm not pretending to be the guy who always knows what he's doing. I'm me. Just Caleb.''

You swallowed hard. ''Then why didn't you show me that lately?''

''I was scared,'' he admitted. ''That I'd burn out. That I wouldn't be enough for both of you. For her mission, for your heart. So I leaned into what I knew. Work. Banter. The stuff I could control.''

You looked at him, searching for the lie.

But there wasn't one.

''I thought maybe…'' you hesitated, voice trembling, ''you were starting to feel more connected to her. Like you admired her more.''

Caleb stepped forward again, slowly this time, until he was close enough that you could feel his warmth.

''I do admire her,'' he said honestly, ''But I love you. You are not the same. You'll never be the same.''

Tears welled up, and you turned your face away.

He gently cupped your cheek, guiding your gaze back.

''I should've told you more. Made time. Asked how you were doing instead of assuming,'' he said. ''And I know an apology doesn't erase the loneliness I caused. But if you let me…I'll prove I haven't forgotten how to be yours.''

You let out a shaky breath. ''I didn't need fireworks, Caleb. I just needed you.''

His eyes softened. ''Then let me come back to you. No shields. No distractions.''

You didn't respond with words.

You just leaned into him, letting his arms wrap around you.

Letting the quiet between you finally mean something healing.

[dreamerimpossible]

Slasher Jealousy Scale

Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, in certain cases yandere tendencies, +18 content.

Michael Myers 3/10

Not too jealous. He usually doesn't understand the reason for those feelings. Furthermore, no one would be able to touch what he marked for him, his superhuman strength and imposing figure would be on top of anyone who dared to look in your direction. So, he would never get jealous. There's just no need.

Chucky 8/10

Completely canonical that he's a jealous bastard. Just tell him he's not man enough for you and he'll get on top of you without thinking twice forcing you to back off. The person who set his sights on you doesn't have a good destiny, obviously. In reality, it's not good to play with him, his pride as a man is too strong.

Billy Loomis 9/10

Abandonment issues become too present. He doesn't like you getting close to too many guys. If his partner knows his true nature, he will be overly controlling and possessive, he would not like his partner to get too close to friends who could be a threat to their relationship. He is quite manipulative and will use such tactics to get you to stay away from those he doesn't like.

Stu Macher 6/10

Medium level of jealousy. He doesn't like being replaced by someone else, but he won't show much of a reaction if you talk to friends who like you. Anyway, he is also popular and will interact with all types of people. However, if he sees something very noticeable, he will pull the strings underneath and that person who made him jealous will magically disappear. For the sake of the relationship, don't talk about it.

Patrick Bateman 10/10

All your attention should be directed at him. The more genuine your interest and compliments, the more he will seek your attention, so making him jealous and paying attention to someone else would be the end of it. He needs complete devotion. He won't tolerate distractions and could take care of them. Making him feel insecure indirectly is not the best option you could take. It is better to dedicate everything to him.

Jason Vorhees 10/10

He literally keeps you locked up, that is the most representative indication of the matter. He does not like those people standing over you looking at you with lust. He is the only one you need. Yes, he will take care of you and protect you. You should be calm.

Leatherface 10/10

Too insecure with himself, so he expects you to have impeccable behavior. Although luckily for you, you will not have too many moments in which he will get jealous because your only environment is his family. So you must treat them with respect and with certain limits and distance. If not, he will get frustrated. And we know his way of dealing with that.

Art The Clown 2/10

He is not jealous, everything for him is a violent game. If someone flirts with you, he will laugh and do his thing with the same energy as always. Although he won't tolerate you ridiculing him, if you flirt with someone, you will pay, but not because he gets jealous, but because he is the one who makes the rules, not you.

Jason Dean 10/10

Dependent, possessive and obsessive. He's literally a warning in and of himself. Seriously, don't flirt or let yourself be flirted with. Don't break up with him, don't walk away from him, don't stop paying attention to him. Just don't leave him, he's very jealous and won't let you go for any reason. Oh, he's also manipulative, so he'll definitely get you to walk away from that harmless guy in your class.

Alex DeLarge 2/10

He doesn't formally qualify as a slasher, but I'm including him anyway. I don't really see him as jealous, he's more of a controlling guy. He doesn't like having his first choice role in other people's lives taken away from him, he is the leader and the one who commands, but he won't get jealous of anyone, because he thinks highly of himself and is charming when he wants to be. He probably has you wrapped around his finger, so…why get jealous?

Brahms 15/10

He won't let you leave the house for that reason. He doesn't want you to leave him, any outsider is a threat. You are only his, you must accept that. However, even if you accept it, he will still be jealous, because he can't help it. If you want to go out somewhere, he will wonder if it is because you want to see someone.

[atoltia]

Their Little Nest

In which MC reorganizes their house over time and Sylus, because of an offhand comment from the twins, thinks she's nesting.

Sylus x fem!MC fluff

Pregnancy thoughts and talk.

-0-

It started with the little things.

Tiny potted plants sat prettily on his shelves, the many side and coffee tables in the manor, their little pops of green and brightly colored petals brightening what once was a corner of shadow.

It wasn't like Sylus didn't keep plants in the house, no. It was just he didn't pay them any mind besides making sure the staff was taking care of them.

So it really came as a surprise when he suddenly found himself watching you and the twins hauling boxes into the house, chattering about plant growth and such as you took out several lamps.

"Kitten," he said from his position by the doorway, strong arms folded over his chest as he leaned against the frame. "With that much light, you're going to start to photosynthesize."

You turned, smiled at him as you tilted your head up to nuzzle into his chin when he strode towards you. You held up two different types of lamps for him to see. "They're lamps."

"I can see that."

You chuckled, leaned against him when he reached over to fiddle with the lamp in your hand. "I didn't know if I needed sun lamps or grow lamps for the plants so I got a lot of both."

"Mm." Sound logic enough, he thought. He patted her head. "Let's set them up, then."

And so they did.

(Even though both of you did bicker about adding a grow lamp - not the sun lamp - in his office for that tiny desk succulents you graciously added to his massive workspace.)

(He conceded, of course.)

But it didn't stop there. Not that he expected it to stop, knowing you.

It was a rough day. A negotiation that Sylus needed to get done didn't pull through as the moron representing the offending faction decided to get flustered and pulled out a gun at him, voiding the deal and thus resulting in a gun fight.

The situation was dealt with easily enough, but the cleanup needed his attention particularly because they had several protocores that he was aiming to acquire and wasn't going to leave without them. Alas, as they refused to make it easier for everyone involved, they had to waste not just his time but his ammo as well as his perfectly cut suit.

Sylus landed on the couch with a groan, relief finally flooding his bones as the tension in his body started to dissipate. He wasn't bleeding any longer, but the aches remained, a dull thrum consistently buzzing so much that it prevented him to experience the relief of sleep.

While the fog enveloped the N109 Zone to obscure it from the wrath of the sun, the instinctual yearn for daylight annoyed him. The mere ghostly memory of the sun on his skin made him purse his lips, the mere thought of it sapping his already drifting energy.

He turned his head, buried it into the pillow-

He blinked, propped himself on his good arm as he stared at the pillows. Gone were the hard blocks of stone that posed for a pillow that he just never bothered to replace, seeing as he was in pain often enough that the uncomfortableness of them barely registered to him anymore. What sat under and beside his head were soft, the slight fur on the covers lightly tickling his cheek as it cradled his head, rapidly easing his throbbing headache.

Long fingers flexed, his brows furrowing when softness once again surrounded his senses.

There was a thick blanket beneath him, separating his battered body from the worn and cold leather of the couch.

Now, Sylus is a perceptive man. Being observant of his surroundings and having the ability to react accordingly is part of his job description, his lifestyle. One misstep, a single moment of carelessness, and he could end up dead.

He was sure these pillows and blanket were not here before he left the house no less than eleven hours earlier.

"Sylus."

He turned, alert eyes softening at the sight of you, drinking up the image of you in one of his long-sleeved button-ups that hung over your significantly smaller frame, your hair mussed in multiple directions.

A lazy, crooked smile adorned your face as you hummed his name, your eyes still drooped with sleep. The adorable crow plushie was cradled lovingly in your arms.

You took your time to cross the room, loved the way he settled back onto the couch as he watched you, those wonderful scarlet eyes not once leaving you. You accepted his outstretched hand, your laugh softly lilting in the air when he pulled you into his embrace.

"Hi," you purred, your body molding perfectly into his.

"Good morning." There was a tenderness in the room, blanketing the both of you as you cuddled on the couch. You cherished moments like this. It's not so often that Sylus would get home when you wake, and while you know that your beloved wasn't all too fond of the mornings, you also know that the man made sure to make time for little moments like this despite his busy schedule.

"You changed the pillows," he muttered, his deep voice rumbling as he nuzzled into your hair.

"Did I?" You kissed his exposed clavicle, trying to hide your smile.

"You did."

"Maybe the twins did it."

He snorted, his fingers digging into your hips before massaging it as his other hand fiddled with the leather that held your knife strapped to your thigh. "They would've have bought a vibrating couch before they get to the pillows."

You laughed. "That's true."

A beat of silence. Just two lovers laying on a couch, sharing whispers and secret laughter as the sun rose far beyond the N109 Zone.

It was peace.

Oh, if only that peace lasted.

It's been a few weeks since that little moment on the couch, and Sylus couldn't fathom how they went from there to where you were at this moment.

He sat on a stool on the kitchen, watching you clean what seemed like the eighth room in the manor and you didn't have any indication of stopping soon.

None of them knew why you were in such a frenzy to clean, but you knew it was important do it Right Now. He offered to help you, of course, after having a quick round with him arguing that you should just leave all the cleaning to the staff, seeing as that's one of the primary reasons why he hired them in the first place.

"Sweetie," he said, exasperation leaking into his usual smooth voice. "If you keep at it any longer, I'm gonna have to clean you up from the floor."

You scoffed, hissed when he tried to grab the mop from you. "You better sit your ass down before I dismantle all of your guns again."

"Oh?" His voice, sickly sweet, as he trailed the tip of his fingers up your neck, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "Will you, now?"

Your eyes glinted, lips curling into a menacing smile as you passed the mop to your other hand, completely dodging his attempt to take it from you as you pressed your body sensually to his. Deft fingers from your now free hand lightly tapping playfully against his chest. You crooned. "You know I will."

A stare down. Something not too uncommon between the two of you. A pair of strong, stubborn people unwilling to yield.

Most of the time.

"Alright," he conceded. Sylus knew, even without peering into your desires, that you will not budge on this matter. So he sat, admitting full well that this isn't an issue that's worth having an argument over.

It only took one look from him to shut the twins' guffaw from the other side of the door. He could ignore the snickering, however.

"This is like the third time she cleaned this room," Kieran whispered to his brother.

"Fourth," supplied Luke as he enjoyed the way their boss was sulking at the counter. He didn't look like he was sulking, Luke knew that full well, but he just had that feeling. "You were too busy buying detergent when she cleaned this last Monday."

"Ah."

"Hm."

"Maybe she's nesting or whatever."

Luke hummed, shrugged. "Maybe."

Sylus was a man of composure. Not even the most lethal of situations are able to get a rise out of him, and even if it did, no one would be able to tell from his perfected poker face.

That was the only reason why he didn't fall out of his stool.

Could you be pregnant? But you two have been so careful, so sure that the both of you have done the necessary things to have safe sex. But it wasn't impossible, he knew. It was also possible for non-pregnant women to exhibit nesting behavior. Surely, you'd tell him immediately if something was amiss or... if you were experiencing some symptoms.

Children, huh? He didn't think he'd be a great father. If anything, he'd be a horrible one considering the simple fact that he brought danger with him anywhere he went.

He was hard lines and violence, bloodshed and death. The sins that he's committed - and will commit - was unfit for a father. A good father.

But... he supposed it would be nice to have children running across the house. His and your kids. A physical manifestation of your love.

It's not that he needed to have a mini version of himself. As far as he knew, he never had any inclination of even desiring to have them. That avenue of conversation hasn't opened up between you too, either. He didn't know if you even wanted to have children.

Children with him.

And he wouldn't mind it if you didn't want them. They were a commitment, not just some playthings to be discarded once the novelty wore off. It would take a lifetime.

Yet... It's a nice thought.

"Darling?" It was well into the night. You and Sylus were already snuggled up in bed but you knew something was off. Ever since your little event in the kitchen, Sylus has been drifting, sometimes zoning out into space. It was very uncharacteristic of him.

So you waited. He'd tell you eventually.

Yet you have to admit to yourself that you can be impatient.

Those eyes of his, momentarily dazed, focused on you. The room was dark, the steady thrum of the air conditioner droning in the background. And still you felt his eyes on you, focusing, focusing, his arms pulling you in closer to his body.

"Yes?"

"What's wrong?"

Of course you'd see it. Not that Sylus even attempted to hide it, seeing as you'd peer through him eventually. You waited for him to speak, frowned when you felt the spiking of his evol. "Sy?"

"Are you pregnant?"

You sputtered, pushed up from your position on the bed. Your hand quickly tapping the button for the lights.

Warmth illuminated the room as you stared into his eyes. You thought he was joking, thought he was pulling your leg, but the emotion that stormed his eyes moved you, surprised you.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Sy." There was distress in his voice, something that you thought you'd never hear. "My period finished a few days ago."

He closed his eyes as he let that information sink in, nodded. Released a breath. "Okay."

"Sylus." You nudged him, urged him to open his eyes. "Sweetheart, what brought this on?"

Sylus sighed, feeling as though the energy was tapped from him. Well, there was no reason to beat around the bush on this. "Kieran mentioned you might be nesting."

For all the time you've spent with Sylus, you knew that man rarely blushed. But the pink that dusted his cheeks and ears endeared you, the heartbeat that you loved listening to spiking.

"I'm sure, Sy."

"Right."

He didn't know if it was relief he felt as he held you, fingers kneading into the dip between your hips. He sighed. Gave you the smile that was only reserved for you.

"Why did you change the pillows?"

You tilted your head, smiled back, leaned down to kiss his nose. So it came back to the pillows.

"I wanted you to be comfortable whenever you collapse on the couch."

"The plants?"

"This place is stuffy without them."

"And the cleaning?"

"I don't like the way the staff cleaned our house."

He stared at you, those gorgeous garnet eyes of his looking at you with a mix of adoration and complete and utter confusion. He blew a breath.

"I was overthinking, then."

"You think so much all the time, I'm surprised it's taken you this long to short circuit."

"I didn't short circuit."

"You don't have access to seeing your expressions, darling."

You laughed when he pinched your sides before your hands slip up and cupped his face. "I love you, you know that?"

"I know." His voice dropped down an octave as he trailed open mouthed kisses from your shoulder to your neck. "I guess that's why you're making me insane."

You snorted. "You never needed my help with that, dumbass."

He nipped your neck, nuzzled. "I love you, too."

"Mm." But you took his hand, pressed it to your stomach, stared deep into his eyes. "Do you want to have children with me, Sy?"

Your eyes were impossibly deep that he couldn't look away. Couldn't even think of attempting it.

"Yes."

Straightforward as ever, Sylus is. You blew a breath.

Swung your legs over him and straddled him in one swift move.

"Maybe we can start trying now, then?"

-0-

this has been running in my brain for days and i just had to write it asfsdg

check out my other sylus fluff fic!

and another sylus fic but with a cat :>

[fungateshortcakes]

Tummy ache

Do I have kids? No. Do I want kids? Fuck no. Did I still write this because dad logan makes me feel a certain type of way? HELL YES

Pairing: Worst!Logan x single mom!Reader

Summary: It's late and your little daughter Laura won't stop crying and screaming, no matter what you do. You take her to your best friend Wade, who lives in the same apartment buildung. Will he and Logan be able to help you?

Wordcount: 3.4k

Warning/tags: english is not my first language, fluff, slight missunderstandings, Wade bc he needs a warning, implied sexual themes, friends to lovers, just cuteness, Laura doesn't exists as an adult like in the movie, rushed ending?, leave me alone I finished this at midnight

__________________________________

Logan was snoring on the couch in Wades apartment when loud, frantic knocks sounded on the door. He grumbled in annoyance as he turned, pulling a pillow over his head.

He heard Wade skip to the door in a pair of white underpants with hearts on them and a loose, grey wolverine fangirl shirt. "Must be the horse dildo I ordered" he spoke happily as if it was the most normal thing to say. Once Wade opened the door, the piercing shrieks of a baby crying echoed through the apartment.

You held your one year and a half old daughter in your arms, her face red as she cried into your shoulder. Wade noted that your hair was a mess and you seemed awfully tired. Well- it was late and on any other day, you and your daughter would already be sleeping. But there was clearly something that bothered her. She had been crying and screeching and in discomfort for an hour without you finding what caused it or how to fix it.

You tried feeding her, but she wouldn't open her mouth for the spoon. You tried reading to her, but she would always push away the books. You changed her diapers in case her sensitive skin was irritated by the dampness, but she hadn't peed. You didn't know why she was so distressed and nothing seemed to distract her from whatever it was that made her cry.

You were desperate. And while your best friend Wade wasn't really...fond of kids, which you couldn't blame him for, you still went to him for help. You never truly wanted kids yourself. But when the condom broke and your ex left you upon finding out you were pregnant, you were stuck with your baby. And now you wouldn't trade her for the world. Except in times where she was screaming with no appearant reason. "Hey Wade, I'm so sorry to bother you guys this late at night, but Laura, she won't stop crying. I've tried everything and I don't know what to do" you croaked, rocking the small child in your arms, shushing her to no avail.

Wade brought you inside so you wouldn't stay outside in the hallway any longer. No need for some neighbors to peek their head out of their doors to see what was going on.

In situations like these, Wade could be oddly serious and actually tried to help. He knew you were insecure because of your baby. You didn't want to be a nuisance or burden to anyone because you knew that your daughter could be a lot. Kids were high maintanance and you didn't want to make people feel like they were obligated to make room and drop everything once you arrived with your child. You couldn't expect from anyone that they were okay with you bringing your kid over. But Wade wanted you to know that even though he didn't like kids, you were his best friend and Laura had been nothing but a sweetheart so far. You were always welcome in his apartment.

Wade kicked Logan from the couch "Get your fat ass off the couch, the Lady needs a place to sit" he loudly said over Lauras crying. Logan groaned. You sat on the sofa and tried to take up as little space as possible. "Im sorry Logan, didn't want to disturb your sleep." you apologized meekly. "I can..I can move to the chair here" you muttered, pointing to an uncomfortable-looking wooden chair that replaced an armchair, which had recently been thrown out of the apartment due to mysterious stains and various rips and cuts in the fabric.

You had met Logan a few times since he lived with Wade and Althea. And you would be a liar if you said he didn't catch your eye. He was tall, broad and very handsome, pretty much right up you alley. But there was no way he was looking for a chaotic single mother that barely had her life together and struggled to raise an unplanned child because her ex left her. Yeah, no. You were miserable. Logan didn't need any of that.

Adding to that, he always seemed to avoid you when Laura was near. You just thought he didn't like kids, which was totally fair. Truthfully, Logan liked kids and had always wanted some of his own, but it just...never happened. With him being the worst wolverine and all.

Then why did he avoid you and your baby?

Simply said, he didn't want to scare her. Most kids looked at him like he was some sort of big, bad monster. Some ran away, some started crying, others hid from him behind their parents when he walked by. He wasn't good with children either because they never let him close enough before getting scared. He was afraid that Laura would react the same way like all children did. He didn't want you to back away once you realised that Laura didn't approve of him.

He couldn't bear only seeing you from afar.

As you were about to stand up from the couch, Logan stopped you. "No, its fine. Stay on the couch. I can move" he replied and you felt another pang as he moved away from you again.

Wade leaned over the couch, looking down at Laura who was still wailing uncontrollably. You sighed deeply, a throbbing ache behind your eyes. "Why won't you stop crying? What's wrong, sweetheart?" you nearly sobbed as well. You were so tired of this, so tired of this sound. You felt so helpless and stupid. "Maybe she wants some food? We have some left-over pizza, I can grind that stuff up into a slurry for her or something" Wade suggested.

You softly shook your head. "She doesn't want to eat, I tried. I also tried to read her a bedtime story, but she just push me away. I also changed her diapers but nothing helped" you rasped, ready to just fall asleep on the spot.

Wade reached down to get your crying daughter out of your arms. "How about you get some sleep while Wolvie and I take care of Laura? Maybe we'll find out what's rubbing her the wrong way." Wade said, cooing to your crying baby. You fell onto the couch, closing your eyes. "I can't just sleep when she is crying" you mumbled, clearly deadly tired.

"We'll take care of her. You go sleep" Logan drawled and his deep voice soothed you even more, made you even more sleepy. It was so easy to let your body betray your mind and you hated it. "Okay..." you whispered, too tired to argue. And before you could snuggle into the couch cushions, you felt two strong arms slip under your body and lifting you up as if you weighted nothing. You were so tired, you couldn't even gasp or protest as Logan brought you into Wades room, your senses enveloped with his scent.

He carefully lowered you down onto the matress, covering you up with a blanket. "Sleep tight, love. We'll take great care of your little one, so you don't have to worry about a thing" he drawled softly and only after closing the door behind him did he hope that you hadn't catched his slip-up, that he had called you love.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

In had been another two hours of constant crying and screaming. The kid must be exhausted from all the crying, but she still didn't stop. If you asked Logan, it became even worse.

"God, can you shut up for a minute? I am trying everything here!" Wade stressed, bouncing Laura in his arms and patting her back. "Don't tell your mom I said that" he whispered right after. Laura wailed and pushed herself away from Wade with her tiny hands, which were surprisingly really strong. She squirmed in his grasp, desperate to be set down.

"This is how you thank me? I've worked my ass off the past hour to get everything to your liking and now you push me away?" he grumbled, but set her down with a loud 'ouch!' after she started to scratch him.

Her tiny feet waddled against the livingroom floor as fat tears rolled down her chubby cheeks. She had a tummy ache, but she couldn't communicate that with anyone. There were a few words she knew and could say- cat, dog, mama. But she didn't have the words to say that something was hurting.

Logan sat on the couch and watched her as she stood a few feet away from him with her red face, screaming together the whole neighborhood. He sighed deeply, the sound making his ears ring. Then, out of nowhere, she waddled over to him.

"No, no, bub. Not a good idea. Get back to uncle Wade" he told her, scooting up the couch a bit more. He could have just stood up and walk away- why didn’t he? Laura stood between his legs now, demanding uppies from him as she cried. Logan shook his head, ready to call Wade from the kitchen, when Laura began screetching, stretching herself to Logan, standing on her small tip toes.

With a huff, he picked her up, his big and warm hands eveloping her small body. He leaned back against the couch with her on his lap. To his surpise, she quieted down. "You okay now, bub?" he asked her, jumping as she snuggled herself against his chest. Due to his mutation, Logan was always very warm. His whole body was like a heater and that warmth soothed Lauras tummy ache, unbeknownst to him.

The apartment was quiet now, only a few hiccups and sighs coming from Laura as she let her stomach ache be washed away by Logans cozy warm body. He didn't know what to do! One minute he was tortured by her screams and now she was napping on him. On him! Out of all people, she chose to rest on him.

"Is she dead!?" It was now Wades turn to yell as he came stumbling into the kitchen because it suddenly went all quiet. Logan didn't answer him nor did he move a muscle, too scared to wake your baby up.

"What the fuck" Wade blurted out upon seeing something he had never thought he would ever witness in his entire life. Logan shushed him, making Wade frown. He came closer, his face next to Lauras sleeping one "You little cheating slut" he sharply whispered, earning himself a shove from Logan. "Seriously, did you knock her out? Why is she sleeping all of a sudden?" Wade asked with crossed arms.

"I don't know. She wanted me to pick her up, so I did. Then she stopped crying and fell asleep" Logan explained, a warm feeling spreading in his chest as he watched the slow rise and fall of Lauras breath, her tiny hand tightly holding onto his shirt.

"Wow" Wade said. "You're the baby whisperer" Logan shot him a glare.

Wade went on a rant about how everything would have been easier if Logan took Laura from the start before finally falling asleep draped over the chair, leaving Logan alone with his thoughts. For a moment, Logan thought about bringing Laura to you so she could sleep with her mom. But as he tried to peel her off of him, she started fuzzing and whimpering until she was laying back on his chest.

He sighed deeply. Well, gotta make the best of the situation, huh? With a grunt, he made himself comfortable on the couch and fell asleep with a broad hand securily holding Laura on top of him.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

You woke up well rested. Weird. You haven't slept this good since Laura had been born.

Laura!

You jumped awake, stumbling over some stuff in Wades room before you reached the door. It was quiet as you opened it and you were met with the sight of Logan, the fucking Wolverine, sound asleep with your daughter cuddled up on him as if he was some kind of big teddy.

Your heart soared in your chest, your stomach did flips and summer saults. And your pussy throbbed. Couldn't help it, seeing him with your baby did something to your ovaries. It was...so cute. You wanted nothing more than to snuggle up with them, trace patterns onto his pecks while Laura would squeak out an adorable smile-

"Mama" Laura squealed suddenly, flashing you a smile with her few teeth. "Hey there, baby" you cooed to her, kneeling down next to the couch to be eye-level with her. She smiled brightly, whatever it was that had bothered her yesterday completely forgotten. "You seem happy using uncle Logan as a pillow" you said to her, kissing her chubby cheek.

Logan started waking up, only registering Laura at first. "You slept well, bub?" he muttered with a deep sleep laced voice, gently rubbing Lauras small head with his large hand that easily fitted around the back of her head.

"Yes, I did. Thank you for asking" you giggled softly, amused by the way Logan nearly jumped out of his skin upon noticing that you were there too, witnessing how he went soft for your daughter. An embarrassed blush krept onto his face and he cleared his throat, sitting up and avoiding your gaze. "Sorry, she...she only stopped crying when she sat on my lap"

You smiled softly at him. "Seems like she really likes you, then." and I like you too, you wanted to add, but didn't. "She is usually not that touchy with people she barely met" you said and hearing your reassurance- the fact that Laura seemed to like him- it warmed his heart. But he would never admit that.

"Well, I guess I'm flattered" Logan replied with the hint of a smile, his gaze soft as you lost yourself in his eyes, Lauras babbling fading into the background. For a moment, you let yourself think about what could have been. This baby, it could have been Logans and yours. She could have been born because two people truly loved each other. Did Logan love you? You doubted it. But when he looked at you like that, you allowed yourself to be fooled.

"I don't know how you manage to fuck each other just with your eyes, but get a room. There are children present" Wade suddenly said outraged, covering Mary Puppins eyes.

You picked up Laura from Logans lap, holding her against your hip to bring distance between you, Logan and Wades teasing. Logan cleared his throat, clearly disappointed.

"I am so, so thankful that you guys helped me. I don't know what you did or what was wrong with her, but she seems all better now. Is there anything I can do to show my gratitude? you asked, gently bouncing Laura in your arms.

Logan shook his head "No need, bub" he grumbled in his deep voice. He would have done this a thousand times if it meant he could hold your baby in his arms as if it was his. "Make that creamy ass mac and cheese and my life is yours. That stuff tastes and sounds better than any pussy" Wade chimes in, making you laugh. You promised to invite both of them over for dinner sometimes this week and they happily agreed. Laura squeaked out a cute "bye!" before you went back to your own apartment again.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Ever since that day, visits to either Wades or your apartment became more frequent and Laura couldn't be happier seeing Logan pretty much every day. She would stick to his leg from the minute she saw him and to the last second before he left. It was adorable and made you fall even deeper in love with someone you could never have.

Wade made it his mission to steal Laura away from you and Logan. Partly because he wanted you to spend more time alone, and to teach her some words since he was her 'uncle' after all.

Laura sat on his lap, staring down at Wades phone. He looked over her head. He had a picture open that showed you, Laura, Logan and Wade. "And who is that?" he pointed to you, earning a delighted squeal from Laura as she pointed to your smiling face on the picture as well "Mama!" she babbled. Wade cheered her on, applauding her. "That's right, and that is Dada. Dada" he pointed to Logan. Laura recognized him, smiling brightly and giggling, but she didn't say anything. "Can you say that? Dada?" Wade asked in the best baby voice he could muster. But still, Laura wouldn't say anything. "Come on, say Dada. Da-da" Wade tried one last time, but Laura unwrapped himself from his arms to go and play with some toys scrattered on the floor. He huffed in frustration. It was easier to teach kids swear words than this.

Two days later, the day for the dinner came and someone rang your doorbell. You left Laura to play on her playmat and went over to the door, opening it a slit before realising that it was Logan. You fixed your hair with flushed cheeks, you hadn't expected him to come this early, you had just started the dinner preperations. "Oh, hey Logan. What are you doing here? Dinner was planned in two hours" you said, gingerly letting him into your apartment which you hadn't had the time to tidy up yet. Logan wasn't the guy to judge, but you still felt insecure.

"I thought I'd help you with the cooking and all. Look after Laura so you can work in peace" he said, knowing that he was just here to spend more time with you and Laura alone to give him the feeling of having his own little domestic family that he will never actually experience.

You smiled at him "That's very nice of you, but Laura is actually being very umcomplicated today" speaking of which, you showed him that your kid was silently playing with her toys. Upon noticing you and Logan, she squealed and stood up slowly, trying to keep her balance, before she waddled up to him excitedly. "There's my little pumpkin" he drawled, bending down to pick her up swiftly.

"Dada!" she giggled, making you an Logan stop in your tracks. "Did you hear that?" he asked you, looking over at you with a shocked expression. You frowned. You had never taught her to say that. "Sweetheart, who is that?" You asked the little girl, tapping Logans arm, just to be sure you hadn't heard her incorrectly. "Dada" she squeaks again, playing with his coarse beard.

You both looked at each other in disbelieve and for a second, you feared Logan woulf shove Laura into your arms and leave. "Look, I'm sorry. I don't know where she got that from" you tried to apologize, but the rejection from Logan never came.

He held her lovingly to his chest, giving her forhead a kiss. It made your heart pound faster. "No, it's okay" he reassured you, his large hand enveloping the back of Lauras head. "I...I could be her dad. If you want me to be" his question struck you like lightning, it was like a damn marriage proposal.

A marriage proposal you would never say no to. He looked at you with hopeful eyes, waiting for your answer and worrying he had overstepped.

"Yes. Be the father she never had. And please be the love I always wanted" you whispered, leaning up to kiss him. The kiss was soft, your lips brushing against the other and it was nothing you had ever felt before. You had kissed your ex- but never did it feel like this. So right. His free hand snaked around your waist, deepening the kiss until Laura decided to pull at your shiny necklace.

You smiled at her, taking her into your arms. "Do you want to play with daddy while I make mac and cheese?" you asked your daughter and minutes later, Logan had brought her playmat and some toys into the kitchen to sit beside her on the ground to watch and entertain her. It was like nothing had changed. Little did you know, Logan had accepted the little girl as his daughter way before today, even if you guys had never confessed.

And as you stole glances down to Logan, who was already looking at you with these half lidded bedroom eyes, you knew that after dinner, Logan and you would be trying for Lauras sibling.

_______________________________

I really hoped you liked this, I feel like I've rusted a bit. Still got a lot of smut ideas and fics open that I need to finish. Wish me luck☹ if you saw any grammatical mistakes, no you didn't. Leave me alone im tired

Btw, thanks to @buck-star for motivation me to finally finish this <33

[burntheedges]

Falling For You - Part 1

Joel Miller x f!reader | 7.3k | 18+ | masterlist | fic masterlist | ao3

fic summary: Joel Miller gave up on the idea of a soulmate at least 20 years and one apocalypse ago. But it turns out the universe hasn't given up on him quite yet.

Part 1: Back in Jackson, settling in was both easier and harder than Joel expected.

a/n: here's part 1! I hope you enjoy! we're starting out with Joel stumbling his way through settling into Jackson. Ellie, too. see tags/warnings below and check the fic masterlist for the full tags. Thank you again @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta!! 🧡

tags/warnings for part 1: angst, Joel is having a lot of feelings ok, family vibes, family fluff, reference to (unnamed) David, Ellie has a bit of a dissociative episode (school related), get ready for soulmate lore (for this AU)

Part 1

“She’s the one, Joel.”

Joel didn’t know what to make of Maria at first. 

Sure, she didn’t seem to like him much, but he didn’t really expect or need to be liked. She’d definitely heard a few too many stories from Tommy and made up her mind that most of it (if not all of it) was Joel’s fault. 

Fair enough. 

But that wasn’t what was throwing him off, what was making him feel like everything he’d known had picked up and settled just a bit to the left. Leaving him out of step and off balance, trying to move forward but uncertain where to find solid ground. 

Tommy hadn’t told him right away, but once he had him alone, he couldn’t hold it in. 

“She’s the one, my one. First time we locked eyes — over the barrel of her gun, of course, didn’t trust me one bit — I heard ‘em. Ours are bells, can you believe it?” Tommy laughed, and Joel knew with certainty he’d never seen a smile quite like that on his brother’s face before. “I froze, had no idea what to do. Couldn’t hear anything but the song in my head, couldn’t see anything but Maria. And then she said, ‘well. Better come with me, then.’” Tommy laughed again. “Got her to smile at me for the first time later that night. Wasn’t easy.”

Joel huffed a single laugh, trying not to frown for Tommy’s sake. 

“After… well. After everything, I’d given up. And then there she was, last place I ever thought I’d find her.” Tommy sighed and looked so in love Joel wanted to throw his glass of whiskey across the bar.

He didn’t. He downed it, instead. 

“I…” he shook his head. “I’m happy for you.”

Tommy chuckled. “Don’t look it, but I know you, so I’m not offended.”

Joel winced and frowned again. “I—“

Tommy waved his hand in the air. “No, no, I remember. ‘Soulmates? That type of crap don’t matter when the world’s gone to shit. Why bother?’ I’ve heard you say it enough times, Joel.”

Joel hunched his shoulders up by his ears and sighed. “I am happy for you. I know I ain’t… I know how I’ve been.” He glanced at Tommy, whose eyebrows had flown upwards at Joel’s admission, and then back down to his empty glass. “If anyone deserves it, it’s you.”

“Thank you,” Tommy said, voice sincere, if surprised. “I think you’ll like her, though she doesn’t like you much.”

This time Joel did laugh as he replied, “just say it. I know you’re thinkin’ it.” He elbowed Tommy and in unison, they said, “means she’s got good taste.”

Tommy laughed and started telling Joel more about the town and Joel sighed, relieved to change the topic. 

Soulmates. 

He hadn’t thought about finding his since 2003, and he wasn’t going to start now. They were probably dead, anyway. 

Why bother?

…

Joel had never talked about it with Tess. Like so many things, she’d understood him without him needing to say anything at all. 

He worried that he’d taken that for granted, by the end. 

Tess had lost her soulmate in the outbreak, and she wasn’t looking for a replacement, she said.

They fit together. 

(There were stories, rare ones, of people who heard the music after knowing each other for years instead of instantly or after only a short time — usually kids who knew each other growing up and didn’t hear their music until later. 

It was even more rare to have more than one soulmate.

Joel only let himself think about that in his darkest, lowest moments. That maybe one day he’d hear it. Maybe it would be nice if that were in the cards for him and Tess. 

It wasn’t.)

They never talked about it, but he knew that she always knew what he wasn’t saying — I’ll never find them, they’re probably gone, and I don’t want to know if they are gone. 

Who would want me now?

Finding them would be worse. 

Tess never pushed, and he never offered.

After everything, looking back, he only wished he had. She had wanted him. She deserved better. 

…

Jackson was strange, at first. Joel found it harder than he’d expected to settle in after he and Ellie returned from Salt Lake. 

Ellie didn’t take to it easily, either, which made Joel feel both better and worse. 

After the first week, the two of them made a deal that they’d eat most of their dinners at the dining hall for a while, if not the rest of their meals. He was pretty sure getting out of the house would be good for her, and even if he didn’t bother to apply the same standard to himself, he’d never say so where she could hear him. 

Teenagers loved to call out hypocrisy, after all, and this particular teenager could spot it a mile away. 

(He remembered the lessons he’d learned with Sarah, even if recalling them was like flexing a muscle he hadn’t used in 20 years. Getting back in shape wasn’t painless.)

About three weeks after their return, Maria broached the topic at dinner. 

“So, Joel, I’ve been meaning to ask. We’ve got quite a few buildings around town that could use some TLC.”

Ellie made a thoughtful noise. “No one’s ever told me what that stands for,” she interrupted, mouth full of potatoes. “Tough… large…” she trailed off, frowning. “Contractors?”

Tommy laughed and Joel couldn’t help but smile. 

Maria smiled at Ellie. “In this case, not far off. But it stands for tender loving care.”

Ellie hummed and turned to Joel with the look that he knew meant she was about to say something at his expense that Tommy would probably think was hilarious. “Joel, your hair could use some TLC.”

He sighed while Tommy laughed so hard he looked like he might fall off the bench. Maria chuckled and Ellie grinned. 

“Alright, alright.” Joel resisted the urge to shove Tommy the rest of the way off the bench and kicked his brother under the table instead. “What kind of TLC are we talkin’, here,” he asked Maria. 

“Some windows that are letting in air, stairs that are worn down. A couple leaks. A few houses that need to be made livable.” Maria started ticking off her fingers. “A roof or two that need a look at.”

“I’ve got a running list written down in the office,” Tommy said. “Come by tomorrow and we’ll look it over.”

“Tomorrow is Ellie’s first day of school,” Joel said, voice mild. He knew Tommy would know what he wasn’t saying — that he needed to be available and easy for her to find. Just in case. 

“I’ll point out where the office is after dinner,” his brother said, looking at Ellie. “It’s closer to the school than your house.”

Ellie looked like she would rather crawl under the table than acknowledge she had any idea what they were talking about, so he changed the subject. 

“Thought I’d be doin’ patrol,” he observed, and Maria nodded. 

“You will. Everyone who can, does, but we have a rotation, so people can actually use their other skills, too. We need it, and that way everyone can contribute what they can.”

Ellie perked up, and Joel sighed before she even opened her mouth. She elbowed him. “Can I go on patrol?”

“No,” Joel, Tommy and Maria chorused together. 

“Ugh,” she replied, rolling her eyes. 

“Training starts at 16, then actual training runs. Can’t patrol until you’re 17 at the earliest.” Maria’s voice was even and Ellie sighed and nodded. “You’ll hear about it in school.”

After dinner Tommy walked home with them and pointed out the office. “School’s right down the road,” he pointed towards it and Ellie tensed. Joel nudged her with his shoulder. “I’ll meet you there after breakfast, Joel. Have a good first day, Ellie.” Tommy waved and headed towards his house. 

When Joel opened their front door and waved Ellie inside, he eyed her tense shoulders and made a quick adjustment to his evening plans.

“Want to watch that movie? The space one.”

Ellie immediately perked up and grinned, leading the way into the living room, and he couldn’t help but smile. 

She plopped down onto the couch in such a way that she sprawled over most of it. By the end of the movie, she was leaning on his shoulder and covered in a blanket, half asleep.

“Hey,” he murmured, not wanting to mess up the moment or the ease in her shoulders but knowing he needed to say it. “Come find me if you need me tomorrow, alright?”

Ellie didn’t say anything, but the way she buried her face in his shoulder told him enough. 

“It’s ok if you need a break or can’t do the whole day. Just find me.” He nudged her with his elbow. “Ok?”

“Ok,” she mumbled. 

“Ok,” he repeated. He nudged her into a standing position. “Time for bed, kiddo.”

She sighed dramatically and stomped off towards the stairs. When she got there, though, she stopped and looked back at him. “Hey Joel,” she said, voice low.

“Yeah?” He stood from the couch and watched as she worked her jaw over what she wanted to say.

“Thanks,” she said, quiet.

He smiled. “Anytime.”

…

Joel saw Ellie off to school in the morning and almost had an anxiety attack at the way it reminded him of sending Sarah to school Before. 

In some ways, knowing what school had been like for Ellie with FEDRA in Boston made it worse, this time around.

He stood with Tommy by the office while she walked down the street towards the school. When she got there she turned and looked back. He could tell she rolled her eyes when she found them both looking at her. She waved, but even that felt somehow like she was being sarcastic.

They waved back and Tommy laughed as they watched Ellie go inside the school building. “Can’t believe you managed to find your clone running around Boston,” he mused, elbowing Joel in the ribs. “Did she act like that before you carted her across the country?”

“She comes by it honestly,” Joel said, and Tommy smirked. He couldn’t even pretend he didn’t know what his brother was talking about, and besides, the idea that Ellie was like him was filling his entire chest with warmth. Not that he was going to tell Tommy that.

“Well, your terrifying mini-me will be fine. Let me show you the plans.” 

They spent the entire day poring over the various plans and maps Tommy had in the main office, and Joel started to understand the scale of what they were doing in Jackson. There were more residents than he realized, more people who needed a home or needed their home fixed.

“This is a lot, Tommy,” he observed some time in the afternoon. “We need more manpower.”

Tommy nodded. “We have it. I’ve been training some people, and we have a couple more that did some building before.”

Joel nodded. “And supplies. How are we there?”

Tommy smiled when Joel said “we” but didn’t acknowledge it otherwise, which he appreciated. “We’re doing alright. We have a policy to either collect or go back for anything useful when people are on patrol. Got a nice stash, almost like a little hardware store. Can use anything in there for repairs, but you have to barter like normal for personal projects.”

Joel hummed. “I’ll need to go take a look, then.”

“I’ll start prioritizin’,” Tommy said, already rearranging the papers on his desk. “Why don’t you start with that tomorrow – get a lay of the land, stop by Nuts n’ Bolts. See what we’ve got.”

Joel raised his eyebrows at his brother. “Nuts and bolts?”

Tommy laughed. “Ah, right. It’s not official but that’s what we’ve all taken to calling our little hardware store. We even call her Bolts sometimes, ‘stead of her name. The woman who organizes everything and handles the inventory. She should be there tomorrow, she can show you around. She knows it back to front.”

That night Joel told Ellie about his plans once she was done telling him every single thing that had happened to her at school that day. 

“So you think it’ll be alright?” He asked her once she seemed to wind down.

She nodded, and he took a deep breath in relief when she looked away. “I might… I don’t fuckin’ know. It was a lot. But it seemed ok. Can I…” she trailed off, and he thought he knew what she wasn’t asking.

“Offer stands,” he said, nodding. “Come find me. I’ll be at the office again, but in the morning I might be over at Nuts ‘n Bolts.”

“What’s that?” She asked, looking confused.

“The local hardware store, apparently,” he explained, stretching his neck. He’d been sitting around a lot more lately and noticed he was getting stiff. “I need to see what supplies they got so we can start fixin’ stuff up.”

Ellie furrowed her brow. “Will you teach me?”

“Teach you what?”

She curled into a ball on the couch with her knees to her chest and propped her cheek on one knee, looking at him. He smiled. “To fix things,” she replied.

“Course I will,” he said, reaching out to push her lightly on the shoulder. She didn’t release her knees and dramatically fell over on the couch with an oof. He laughed and she grinned. “Anything you want to know.”

“Cool.”

…

After seeing Ellie off to school again, Joel took a walk around town. 

He kept an eye out for the projects he’d gone over with Tommy the day before and spotted most of them. He could see why they were so eager to get going. 

On his way back to the office he swung by Nuts ‘n Bolts. It was easy to spot, since someone had made a wooden sign with a nut and a bolt carved into it and hung it above the door. 

It was an old storefront with actual rows of shelving and big windows. It even looked like a hardware store from the outside. 

When he stepped inside and a little bell rang above his head, he was almost transported back 25 years. He took a deep breath. 

“Morning,” a voice called out from the back. “I’ll be out in a second.”

“Take your time,” he called back. “Just lookin’ around.”

“Ah, you must be Joel,” the voice said, and it sounded like they were smiling. “Tommy told me you’d stop by. Alright, I’ll be out there in a bit. Holler if you need anything.”

He sighed, knowing that Tommy had probably told them something ridiculous, and started looking around. 

It really did look like a hardware store. There were tools and supplies of all kinds, neatly organized on clean shelves. There were also signs of a meticulous inventory being kept, with numbers updated in pencil on little slips of paper in front of each item. 

Joel was leaning over some bins of nails when something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

Ellie was walking up the street towards the store, jaw set, arms crossed. In a sudden overwhelming rush Joel felt worry rise and begin to choke him. He turned and speed walked towards the door.

“Gotta go,” he barely remembered to call out. “Another time.”

He heard some kind of acknowledgement, but it was faint and he was already mostly out the door.

…

When he stepped outside, he could see on Ellie’s face that she wasn’t ready to talk about it, whatever it might be. He reached out to squeeze her shoulder and said, “office or home?”

She looked thoughtful for a moment, despite her hunched shoulders and general fuck-off aura. 

“Office.”

“Alright,” he agreed, and led the way. She trailed after him silently and he worked his jaw as he tried not to draw any similarities with her silence after Silver Lake. “I’ll show you what we’re working on.”

When they stepped into the office, Ellie’s shoulders relaxed just a bit, and he did not allow himself a deep breath in relief. 

He’d learned the hard way on the road that she liked him talking but not asking questions, not when she was feeling like this, so he started showing her the list and the repairs. She eased into a chair and leaned in to look at the town map. 

By the time he got to the smaller projects on the outskirts, she had her chin in her hand and was staring off into the middle distance. 

When she interrupted him, he stopped talking immediately. 

“It was math class,” she said, voice quiet. Joel tensed and then forced himself to relax his muscles. “The teacher here isn’t even a man, isn’t…” she trailed off and frowned, and he could see her wrestling with herself. “But I couldn’t… fucking why couldn’t I—“

Joel was up and around the desk before he even realized he was moving, then on his knees next to her chair. He reached up and ran his hand over her hair and relaxed, just a bit, when she leaned into it. “Ellie, you don’t—“

“I can’t fucking sit through a math class, Joel,” she said, sounding disgusted with herself. She leaned forward and rested her forehead on his shoulder. “It wasn’t the teacher or the school, it was just math, and I ran away like a weak little b—“

“Hey,” he said, voice low and soothing. He cupped the back of her head in his hand and started running the palm of his free hand up and down her back. “Running away does not make you weak. It’s ok to not be ok, baby girl. And look, Tommy told me something.” He squeezed the back of her neck with his hand. “Plenty of the kids here haven’t been able to do school right away. Plenty of ‘em have eased into it.” She started to pull back but he squeezed her again and she settled. “It’s hard… to go from the road to something like school. Turns out they have whole plans here for kids who need more time.”

“Plans?” She asked, finally raising her head and looking at him skeptically. “Like what?”

Joel settled onto one knee and leaned against the arm of her chair. “Like half days, and doin’ some work on their own at home. Or every other day.” He took one of her hands and squeezed it. “I bet we could work out a plan for you to do your math work at home, or here, even.” He waved his free hand around the office. “Seems like I’ll be spendin’ some time here, if you wanted to hang around.”

Ellie frowned as she mulled that over, staring down at their hands. She picked at the seam of her jeans with her free hand and Joel fought the urge to hold that one, too. “Other kids have really done this, too?”

He could hear what she was really asking — she didn’t want to be the only one with a problem. It was a pretty normal thing to worry about, of course, but it was also such a teenager thing to worry about that he couldn’t help but smile. “They have. Pretty sure no one would think you were weird.” He eyed her and took a gamble.  “Not for that, anyway. Got plenty of other reasons, like the way you put sugar on grits,” he said, voice teasing. 

She rolled her eyes at him and he smiled, fully. “You’re the weird one, Joel. No one likes grits, I don’t care what you say. And Tommy told me no one else actually likes those old movies you told me about, too.”

“Tommy ain’t got any taste,” he said, moving to stand. He stopped when her grip on his hand tightened. “I’ll talk to the teachers, alright? We’ll figure it out.”

She nodded, looking much calmer than she had when he’d found her outside. He pulled her into another hug. 

“And we’re in this together, right? We made a deal.” She nodded again, and smiled, this time, the way she did every time he referenced their deal.

When he let go, she started asking him questions about the repairs that needed doing, and he heaved himself off the floor to answer. 

They’d be alright. 

…

Their deal, as they’d both come to call it, had been hashed out on their fifth night back in Jackson.

Joel hadn’t wanted to rush her, he’d known she was feeling like shit. But he knew he couldn’t let the two of them start up a pattern of never leaving the house. Not if Ellie was going to have an actual life there. And that’s what he wanted for her, more than anything – to have a life. 

It turned out she wanted something similar for him.

“How about just dinners, then?” he’d offered, when she’d refused to go out for lunch again. “We can start tomorrow. See how it goes.”

She’d agreed, but their truce had been short lived when she’d discovered he also wanted her to go to school. Not yet, but apparently wanting her to go at all was the problem.

“Why the fuck do I need school,” she’d spat, and he’d thanked his years of experience with teenage anger and discontent for his even response.

“Life here seems alright, don’t it?” he’d asked, and eventually, frowning, she’d nodded. “Seems like we can give things a try, the way things are done here. See how it goes.”

Ellie had frowned down at her hands in her lap on the couch but eventually looked back up at him. “If I’m trying,” she’d emphasized, “you have to, too.”

“Ellie, I don’t need anything, just—“ just you, he’d been about to say. Just for you to be happy. 

“No, Joel. You, too.” She’d been implacable. And at the end of the day, all he wanted was to give her what she wanted. 

So they shook on it. She would try, and he would try, and they wouldn’t just give up because something sounded dumb or like a waste of time. 

They’d try living this new life they’d found, and they’d do it together. And see how it went.

…

The teachers were more than happy to come up with a plan for Ellie, it turned out. So she spent her mornings at school, and her afternoons in the office with Joel or Tommy, doing work they assigned for her to take home.

Joel loved it.

He knew it wouldn’t last forever – eventually she’d feel fine with school, he knew, and he’d lose this time they had together – so he tried to savor it. Tried to find time to teach her about what they were doing, to let her be a part of it. Every time he gave her something to do, she stood a little taller, smiled a little wider.

It turned out actually trying was good for her. And seeing her settle in and start to smile more? That was good for him.

She’d taken to sitting at a little desk Tommy had found god-knows-where in the corner of the office and chattering about what she was doing, which suited him just fine. Sometimes she threw balled up pieces of old homework at him to catch his attention and he always sent them right back, bouncing them off her forehead. It never failed to make her laugh.

About a week and a half into their new arrangement she finished her work early and started rummaging around in office shelves, keeping up her stream of consciousness stories about her new classmates as she went. 

“... and did you hear about that new group that came into town? From somewhere west? Turns out one of them is Miss Jenna’s soulmate.” Ellie fiddled with an old broken stapler she found on a shelf, frowning at it as she turned to look at him expectantly. 

It took Joel a minute to catch up with what she was talking about, but his mind snagged on soulmate. He knew Miss Jenna was her history teacher. “What?”

Ellie nodded. “Miss Tasha is taking over for her for the rest of the week to give them time to, I don’t know.” Ellie shrugged expansively. “What do soulmates even do? Talk, or some shit.”

He raised his eyebrows at her and smiled. “Or some shit?”

She sighed and flopped the stapler open. “What is this thing?”

“A stapler,” he told her, “but I doubt we have any staples. Used to use ‘em to bind piles of paper together with little metal bits.”

“The staples?” She asked, peering at it and then at him. He nodded. “Weird. Anyway, I don’t fuckin’ know. FEDRA never talked about soulmates. We only heard stuff from the other kids.” She shrugged again. “You hear music, right? In your head?” She looked baffled by this idea.

“‘S what they say.” He stretched his shoulders, settling in to talk about this. “I’ve never heard it myself, but Tommy and Maria did. You could ask them what it was like.”

Ellie leaned forward on the desk, stapler forgotten by her hand. “They’re soulmates?!” She looked intrigued. “Why didn’t you say so?”

He shrugged.

She rolled her eyes at him and flopped into the chair in front of the desk. “Useless, Joel. You’re supposed to find out things and then tell them to me. Duh.” She grinned at him when he huffed a laugh. “I’ve never met soulmates before. Everyone’s music is different, right?”

He nodded again. “‘S what they say.”

She hummed and kicked her feet up on the desk. He reached across and nudged them back onto the floor with a ruler and she grumbled. When she was quiet for a long moment, he looked up, and found her frowning thoughtfully at the ceiling.

“Ellie?” he prompted, and she sighed.

“Did most people, Before,” she started, and then cleared her throat. “Did most people find them? Their soulmates?”

Joel thought about it for a moment before answering. “A lot of people did, sure,” he said, thinking about his parents for the first time in years. “Our parents were soulmates, mine and Tommy’s. And I knew a lot of people who found theirs.” He shrugged. “Not sure of the numbers. One of your teachers might know.”

“Did…” she trailed off, looking hesitant, and he figured she was about to ask about him. “You said you didn’t–”

He shook his head. “Never found ‘em.”

She hesitated again, and he figured she was about to ask about Tess. He poked at her memory in his mind and discovered it didn’t hurt quite as much as it used to.

Still hurt, though.

“Did Tess–”

He shook his head again. “Lost hers in the outbreak,” he said, and he could hear the gruffness in his own voice. He cleared his throat. “We weren’t… we weren’t.”

She nodded, looking thoughtful. “Wonder how many there are in Jackson.”

“You’ll have to ask Tommy,” he said, sighing, “Wouldn’t know.”

Ellie hummed again, but before she could ask him another question about it the man himself walked in the door.

“Howdy, folks,” Tommy said, drawing out his accent a bit more than normal. It made Ellie snicker, which was the point. “What are you troublemakers up to today?”

“You didn’t tell me you and Maria are soulmates!” Ellie accused, and Tommy looked slightly taken aback before he smiled.

“So sorry, ma’am, didn’t realize you wanted to know.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Duh. What was it like?”

Joel figured Tommy had brought this on himself and turned back to his work. After all, only the day before he’d told Ellie she could ask him “anything at all” and he’d answer.

“The music?” Tommy asked, propping himself against the desk. Ellie nodded. “Pretty weird. It’s not like when you have a song stuck in your head, it’s like actual music playing inside your head. Full sound.” He tilted his head from side to side. “And it’s a song I’d never heard, never in my life, which made it even weirder.”

Ellie looked captivated by this information. “And Maria heard the same thing?!”

Tommy nodded. “Yep.”

“And were you, like, instantly in love?” Ellie looked both intrigued and put off by the idea, which made Joel smile down at his maps.

“I was,” Tommy said with a wink, grinning. “Maria took a little convincing, but she’s smarter than me, anyway.”

Ellie seemed to mull that over and then nodded. “Did you hear about Miss Jenna?”

Joel looked up, interested to hear the answer on this one, and found Tommy nodding. “Yep. I was standing right next to them when it happened, too.”

Ellie’s mouth dropped open and Joel smiled to himself – she had a true love of gossip, his kid. “What was it like? Seeing it?”

“Now, don’t go repeatin’ this to all the other miscreants, alright?” Tommy fixed her with a look and Ellie nodded eagerly. “But it looked like it went the same for them as it did for me. Mena was getting down off her horse when she happened to look up and catch Jenna’s eye and, well. They both stared, Mena fell down the rest of the way and landed in the dirt. Jenna helped her up and said something like, ‘did you hear that?’” He smiled. “So there you go.”

Ellie squinted at him. “That’s it?” 

Tommy laughed. “What else do you want?”

She shrugged, and Joel smiled down at his maps again. “Guess I thought it would be a bigger deal, or something.”

Tommy hummed. “Well, for them it was. We got enough soulmates here in town that I guess it’s not so novel anymore,” he said, thoughtfully.

“Really?” Ellie asked. “Like, a lot?”

He shrugged. “Not sure what’s a lot. But enough. Not the first time it’s happened at the gates, either.”

Ellie considered that for a minute. “Huh,” she said, sounding surprised. “Maybe mine is here, too. Oh, or Joel’s!” He looked up from his work to find her grinning at him. “Somebody who can fall in love with that grumpy face.”

He frowned at her and she frowned back. “Soulmates–”

Tommy cut him off, and Joel recognized the voice he used as his Joel impression. He sighed as Tommy said in a deep, growling voice, “soulmates? Why bother?” And then laughed. 

Ellie looked between him and Joel. “Was that supposed to be Joel?”

“Duh,” Tommy said, smiling as he repeated the word back to her with the same intonation she’d used when he came in. “Heard him say it enough times.” 

Joel sighed again. 

Ellie frowned at him. “Do you not want to meet ‘em?”

Joel looked at her and fought down his initial response of obviously not and who would want me now? That wasn’t exactly the message about love and relationships he wanted to pass on to his kid, not when all he wanted was for her to be happy. Even if it wasn’t in the cards for him. “Figure they’re not around anymore,” he said, trying to shrug it off. “Been long enough.”

“You are old as dirt,” Ellie said, rolling her eyes. “But they could be here. You never know.”

Joel couldn’t help but notice that she seemed pretty excited about the whole thing, maybe because it was so different from what she knew in Boston with FEDRA. He sighed again. “Maybe,” he allowed. “But I ain’t lookin’. Got plenty of other things to worry about.” Like you, he didn’t say. 

“Joel,” she said, frowning. “We have a deal.”

He eyed her and tried not to notice Tommy looking between them curiously out of the corner of his eye. “Didn’t realize soulmates were part of the deal.”

“Of course they are!” She said, raising both of her arms and then letting her hands fall against her legs in exasperation. “Living, Joel. Life, or whatever.”

“Alright, alright, ok.” He worked his jaw for a moment, figuring out what he wanted to say. “If they’re here, somehow. I’ll tell you, alright? And I’ll…” he winced. “I’ll talk to them, I guess.”

Ellie grinned and Tommy looked shocked. “Deal,” she said, looking smug. 

Tommy gave him a look that said, you really are wrapped around her little finger, you know, and Joel flipped him off the second Ellie’s back was turned. 

…

The soulmates conversation was, thankfully, put to the side after that. Joel was certain Ellie asked Tommy about it more, apparently insatiable in her desire for more knowledge, but she didn’t talk to him about it again. 

Considering that his opinion was still finding them now would be worse, despite the recent, more positive changes in his life, he figured that was a good thing. 

So Joel settled into a daily rhythm of mornings at work and afternoons with Ellie and marveled at how much he liked this new life they’d found. 

Ellie started running errands for them, too, and learning more about the work they were doing. It made him feel proud, which made Tommy tease him, which made him put Tommy in a headlock with a cheering Ellie off to the side. 

It was nice. And Joel hadn’t had nice in decades, so it was difficult to trust. Difficult not to wonder when the other shoe was going to drop. 

He figured if he kept his head down and did his work he’d stay out of trouble. Hopefully. 

“Joel! I’m back," Ellie called, bursting into the office with a box in her arms. “Bolts had everything you asked for except, well.” She snickered. “Except the bolts. She said she’d check the storage area and get back to me.”

This wasn’t the first time Ellie had run over to get something from Nuts ‘n Bolts — she’d mostly taken over the job, in fact. 

“She said you still haven’t been over there to introduce yourself. Not very social of you,” Ellie said, repeating what Maria had said a couple nights before, waggling a finger at him. He rolled his eyes and caught it, smiling when she squealed. 

“I know, keep meaning to,” he said, releasing her but reaching out to mess with her hair as he stepped back. She swatted him away, laughing. 

“Well you can’t have my job, slacker.” Tommy had taught her that word the week before and Ellie had been using it with delight ever since. “You’ll have to go over there on your own.”

He started going through the box and was impressed as always by how meticulously organized it was. Each different item was in its own little box or folded in paper with a tag noting how many were there in neat handwriting. It satisfied something inside of him, to see competence like this on display.

“Still checking her work?” Tommy said, stomping inside. “I told you she knows what she’s doing.”

Ellie nodded, agreeing. 

“No, just looking,” Joel said, knowing they probably didn’t believe him. But he wasn’t. 

He was more appreciating her work than anything else. 

“Well, let’s get going then,” Tommy said, motioning towards the door. “Those stairs won’t fix themselves.”

…

About a month after Ellie started school, Joel did his first patrol. 

It was time, but he was grateful for the extra time to settle in and prepare Ellie for him to leave and come back. 

Well, for him to try to prepare her, anyway. And attempt to prepare himself, too.

“I want to come,” she said, stomping next to him towards the gate. She’d said the same thing every day since Maria had asked him three days ago. 

“You know the rules,” he said, tone mild. “Not—“

“Not until I’m 17, ugh, I fucking know, Joel.” She frowned and crossed her arms. “What if something happens? What if—“

“Hey,” he said, stopping and kneeling next to her on the ground. She looked thrown, like she always did when he put himself below her like that. He hoped she’d stop being surprised by it eventually. “I’ll be with a group, and with Tommy, alright? I’ll be ok. We aren’t even going that far—“

“Just out to the dam, I know.” She finished for him. Her body was coiled as tight as a spring and he reached out to squeeze her shoulder. 

He nodded. “Back by sundown. I’ll meet you right there.” He pointed to the tree by the gate. “Ok?”

She worked her jaw for a minute but nodded. “Ok. And you better not get hurt.”

He smiled and stood up, cupping her face gently. “I won’t. You don’t either, alright?”

She sighed, sounding so much like an exasperated teenager he had to hold in a grin. “I’m just going to hang out with Bolts and sort nails. Ooh, scary.” She waggled her fingers at him. He let his hand drop on top of her head and waggled it gently in response. She made a noise in protest and grabbed his hand. 

“Alright. Be good for Bolts. I’ll see you later, ok?” She nodded and, quicker than lightning, ducked under his arm into a hug. He squeezed her and let his cheek rest on top of her head for a moment. 

He wasn’t going to say so, but knowing she’d be safe with an adult she trusted while he was gone was the only thing letting him go at all. 

“I’ll be right back, baby girl,” he murmured, and she squeezed him once more before letting go and watching him lead his horse to the gate. When he looked back after mounting up, she waved. 

He waved back and ignored the feeling that he was leaving his heart behind with every step his horse took. He knew it was good for them to be separated for a bit, knew he couldn’t let her live in his pocket forever, even if in the moment all he wanted was to turn around and go home.

. . . 

At dinner that night, Ellie sat much closer to him than usual. It comforted him, too, so he didn’t say anything. In between demands for stories about the (pretty boring, all things considered) patrol, he started to notice a pattern in her speech that he was pretty sure had been forming for a while, he just hadn’t noticed.

“Bolts said that Before, people used to put coins in machines and squish them, like, on purpose. And the machine would print a little design on them. That’s fucking wild! I thought money was important? Why would you squish it?”

“Bolts told me that Before people used to do something called glamping. Joel, did you ever go glamping? Why wouldn’t you just go normal camping? And why would you go camping on purpose at all? Didn’t you have a house?”

“When we were checking the storage area, Bolts found a box of staples, those little metal things you told me about! She let me staple some papers but then she said I had to stop because I was helping ‘a bit too enthusiastically and we only have so many staples, Ellie.’”

He knew he could trust her with Bolts, just based on the stories she told and what Tommy had said about her. But he’d never met her. Maybe it was time he made time to do that.

…

In the end, Joel didn’t make it over to Nuts ‘n Bolts for almost a week after he’d made up his mind to actually do it. The patrol had gone well, but Ellie had been more his shadow than ever afterwards, and he spent a lot of time reassuring her – and himself – that everything was fine.

Her teachers had suggested that she start attending the art class that happened in the afternoons at the school once a week on Tuesdays, and so Joel took advantage of her absence to go over and do Ellie’s usual pick up at the hardware shop.

As he walked up to the shop, he realized how strange it was that he’d been in town for so long and hadn’t actually been back there. When he stepped inside, he was again impressed with the meticulous organization and care. 

He recognized the handwriting on all of the shelf labels, now, the same handwriting that would appear on the labels in each of the boxes Ellie picked up on her errands.

Must be Bolts’, he thought to himself as he ran his fingers over the words “washers, 4mm” in clear, tidy handwriting.

“Afternoon,” a voice called from the back. “‘S that you, Ellie?”

Joel called back a greeting. “She has art class on Tuesdays, now,” he explained, voice raised a bit to be heard as he continued exploring the shelves. 

“Ooh, and how’s she feel about you taking over her job?” The voice was teasing, now, and it made him laugh. 

“She warned me I better do it right and be polite,” he said, and he heard a laugh from the back. He turned another corner and found hooks of all shapes and sizes carefully organized and displayed along a shelf. “Said I had a reputation to uphold.”

“She’s right,” the voice called, and he could hear the laugh in it. “It’s an important mantle you’re taking on, you know. And you must be Joel.”

He was grinning at a shelf of caulk, he realized, and blinked. “That’s me. And you must be Bolts? Or should I call you–” 

Another laugh interrupted him. “Bolts is fine! No one calls me anything but that around here.”

Joel was starting to feel like he was walking through a maze, looking for the corner to turn that would take him to the back, where the voice was coming from.

“I’ve heard all about you, you know,” Bolts called. “To hear Ellie tell it, there’s nothing you can’t do, you’re the tallest person alive, and you’re old as dirt.” He snorted. “Now, I know that’s not true from Tommy – maybe just old to a teenager, anyway – but I’ve been looking forward to seeing for myself.”

He couldn’t stop smiling. Walking through this maze of a hardware store was starting to feel like an out of body experience. He was pretty sure he was close, though, to figuring out where she was.

“I’ve heard quite a bit about you too, you know,” he said, and the warmth in his own voice startled him. “Ellie thinks the world of you.”

“She’s a special kid, Joel,” Bolts said, voice softer now, but a bit muffled. 

“She is,” he agreed, and finally turned the corner to where he was pretty sure she was working. He was right – down at the end of the row, at a makeshift sales counter, there was a woman.

He couldn’t tell if she was shorter than him – she was leaning over a box with almost her entire torso inside of it.

She had a very nice ass, he couldn’t help but notice, and her jeans did nothing to hide it.

He blinked away from it as she started to rise, and his eyes trailed along her spine. He stepped forward, and she must have heard because she turned.

And then his eyes met hers.

In all the times he’d been told about soulmates, either no one had ever said, or he hadn’t been paying attention when they did, that the music that played inside your head was loud.

Or maybe it wasn’t that way for everyone. Maybe it was just loud for them.

He looked into her eyes and just like that, his mind was taken over by the most beautiful music he’d ever heard. Tommy had said bells but theirs wasn’t bells – it was strings. Almost like a symphony inside his mind, rising and falling and swelling together into a crescendo that took his breath away.

He couldn’t move, could barely breathe, staring into the eyes of the woman who was his soulmate.

The song started to fade, and Bolts took a single step towards him, face breaking open with some emotion he couldn’t name. 

“Joel?” she said, one of her hands lifting towards him.

He blinked, and felt the space the music had left behind start to fill with panic.

He ran.

...

a/n: I know!! Joel, what are you doing?? find out next Tuesday in part 2! (and this fic has a happy ending, I promise)

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[lostingrayrain]

hello hello!! i bought homicipher the day it came out and i'm so in love with it.. but there's no content whatsoever and i'm so sad 😭😭 could you write literally anything for any character.. i just need to see more homicipher content!!! 😭😭💗

I GOT YOU ANON I've clocked in like 20 hours since the release on November 1st omg....

I've been cooking up something for my first Homicipher post.....here's some general thoughts on the relationships/dynamics with the main guys.

Characters: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Silver Hair / Mr. Silvair, Mr. Gap, Mr. Hood, Mr. Machete, Mr. Scarletella

Word Count: 1454

Warnings: sfw, some mentions of canon-typical violence

Mr. Crawling

He loves you!! He loves you so, so, so much!!!

Do you love him?

He asks you that. A lot. He loves to be reassured that you adore him. And he's always vocal about how much he adores you.

He follows you everywhere, like a lost puppy. It's honestly so endearing and sweet. He's constantly on the lookout for you.

He also adores physical touch, once he knows it's fine. Other than the little headpats, he likes to touch your legs, especially your calves. In times of rest he's incredibly cuddly and loves to nuzzle into you.

Pet his hair and he'll melt immediately. It's so relaxing to him.

He's usually with you, but when he's not he's often on the lookout for gifts and trophies to bring to you. He just wants to make you happy, in any way possible. The second there's anything you mention liking or being fond of, it's a priority for him to see if he can scrounge it up.

If you'll let him, he'd love to touch your hair. He will play with it and make silly nonsensical braids and giggle quietly to himself all the while.

He's a bit of a chatterbox. He loves to talk to you. Any time he's been away he likes to give you little reports of what he's done or what he's seen. And he wants to hear all about your day or your dreams, too. There's never a time he won't want to hear what you have to say.

Mr. Silver Hair / Mr. Silvair

You are so very interesting to him! He wants to study you.

But not hurt you. Normally, he probably would have already dismembered you to watch how your body pulls together again, but since you're friends with Mr. Chopped, he's put aside that urge.

Instead it's been replaced by something else, though he doesn't really understand what it is. He's never felt it before. Or maybe he has? Maybe he doesn't remember? Could you help him remember?

Whenever you’re feeling ill, he finds that he wants to make you feel better. He’s trying hard to learn how to keep you together just as you are.

He’ll get you to lie down when it seems you’re feeling faint, and carry you to bed when you collapse in the middle of an errand. Before he realises it, he's massaging your hair. Think nothing of it. Your head hurts, right? So it makes sense to pet you.

He likes to watch you sleep. He can’t put a finger on why. He likes to tell himself he’s doing armchair research when he’s really just….zoning out.

He's extremely perceptive and observant. He's always checking your reactions to things and events to figure out what you like or don't like, or to try to understand how you're feeling in the moment.

He's the type to politely ask if it's okay to touch you before doing so.

He would never hurt you unless your urges became unbearable, in which case it's self-defense, right? He'll make sure you'll turn back to normal and he'll be there for you every step of the way.

Mr. Gap

He's probably...one of the strangest denizens of the otherworld. You're still not sure if he has a body. But he has helped you on multiple occasions. You've found yourself growing fond of him.

You often see him peeking at you from various holes and gaps. Sometimes he tries to get your attention, sometimes he doesn't. Sometimes he just watches.

When you find a bag in the underworld, you begin carrying it around with you.

He's usually inside, but sometimes not. You have no idea where he goes.

He'll often bring back little gifts like weapons or food, like some bizarre cat. When he finds out you like candy, he tends to focus on that.

He always asks for your heart before he gives you anything, and you always say no, and he always grumbles.

But somehow you'll always find those same things coincidentally in your path or somewhere in the room after you wake up, if you've taken a nap.

He likes to scope out newspapers and magazines too, and show them to you, especially if they feature himself. He's so proud of that.

Over time, his requests for your heart grow less and less frequent. Sometimes, you forget he used to ask you for it at all, until he suddenly pipes up with the query again.

Is his wanting your heart the same thing as wanting your love? Things to ponder.

Mr. Hood

He's quiet and reclusive but he's there for you whenever you need him.

You need or want anything? Just ask. He'll give it to you immediately with hardly a question.

No harm will ever come to you whenever you're with him, and he hardly lets you out of his sight. He's incredibly protective of you.

He loves to carry you in his arms or on his shoulder, whether you're small or not. It's no bother to him. He's more than strong enough.

Hand touches are so pleasant to him -- whether you're touching his hands, or he's touching your face. He's secretly touch-starved. As long as you don't shy away, he'll continue to hold onto you.

He enjoys quizzing you on your knowledge of the otherworld language. When things are slow, he’ll randomly ask you if you know the names of certain things.

Whenever you both encounter something new during your travels, he’s quick to ask you if you know what it is or outright tells you what it’s called.

He seems a bit self-conscious of having minimal form. What is under his robe? If you don't ask he'll be grateful. He doesn't know himself.

But if you're not repulsed by his anomalous form, that's just -- incredibly touching.

He claims to not understand love, but he'll never abandon you.

Maybe he doesn't understand. Maybe he's forgotten.

But there's something about you that comforts him, and makes him feel safe. Quite paradoxical -- he's the one doing the protecting, after all. But your presence soothes him.

Mr. Machete

He's just looking for a way to not be bored. And being with you -- somehow, it's fun.

Maybe because he's usually alone, so he doesn't often have anyone else to talk to. It's...fun to banter with you, even if sometimes your words confuse him.

It's unquestionable that he's the brawn, you're the brain of this duo. Maybe the beauty and the beast, too?

He's always, secretly, been a little bit of a coward. The second things don't look like they'll turn out well for him, he ditches and flees.

But, oddly, you give him the courage to stand against things or monsters he would have thought were impossible to defeat.

Sometimes, you die -- whether by accident or because something else got to you before he could. But he always sighs and waits for you to wake up again. If you're mad, it's a little funny. You were just too slow that time.

He likes sparring with you. You have to get faster, right? Your weapon is pretty funny, too. So small and yet somehow you manage to not get overwhelmed by him. He's not holding back. He never would. Right?

He likes to pick you up and sling you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Likes to hug you like a teddy bear, too. You're soft and warm. You feel nice against him.

He's not the type to ask, but if you made any indication of not liking anything, he'd stop. He doesn't want to break you.

Mr. Scarletella

You are his queen. He literally worships the ground you walk on.

You are so fascinating to him. He just can't believe he's found someone as perfect as you. Someone who likes to destroy and kill people, just like him? Immaculate.

You haven't and never will give him your name. That's fine. He can live with that, as long as you're with him.

You've likely given him something else to call you. It's not quite your name -- maybe it's not your full name, and he knows it, because he can't quite grasp your essence. But it's enough to be able to give a sound to the person -- thing -- he likes most in this world.

He likes to say that not-quite name, and he says it often, just to get your attention.

He's fascinated by everything about you -- including how small you are in comparison to him. He loves that he can easily dwarf your form and loom over you. It's exhilarating in a completely different way from mindless violence.

Speaking of which, his favourite thing is without a doubt to commit violence with you. There's a new urban legend steadily growing in the human world, of a pair of murderers characterised by their red and white umbrellas. You're the perfect perfectly awful duo, truly.

Even when he's not with you, he's always somehow got an eye on you. Most of the otherworld residents know by now who you belong to, and they'd never lay hand on the one cherished by the red umbrella man.