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hier--soir · 1 year

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whole new can of worms

joel miller x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: two friends decide to blow off a little steam together. warnings/tags: [18+ minors DNI] fwb!joel, famous HOG joel miller lmao, age gap [20 years], language, alcohol consumption, established friendship, guitar playing joel!!, oral [f and m recieving], p in v sex, starts slow and careful and ends up rough oops. word count: 6.9k (nice) series masterlist | masterlist a/n: okay LOOK. i’m working on a final part to this little impromptu series, but I got very side-tracked with the idea of a prequel and then the most smut I’ve ever written just fucking spilled out of me. this is the first time they had sex, ladies and gentlemen. you get the beginning before you get the end. enjoy. also, this moment from tlou pt 2 game is what i was picturing for the beginning when joel is playing the song. dont watch if you don't want to, its from a cut scene very late in the second game. zero spoilers, just joel miller strumming that damn guitar in a way i'll never forget. this is part one of my fwb!joel series. you can find the other parts here: two, three, four.

“Play that one I like.”

Joel offered no verbal response, but sat up straighter in his chair, fingers adjusting along the fretboard of his guitar. You relaxed into your seat, closing your eyes and taking a long sip from your glass of amber liquor.

He began playing and you smiled happily, goosebumps breaking out across your skin as the familiar tune filled the air between you and your friend, melding with the sound of rain softly pattering against the roof of his veranda. You kicked your feet up onto the table between you, the tense muscles in your legs aching from the stretch.

“Get your feet off the table,” Joel muttered, fingers never ceasing on the instrument. “Animal.”

Your eyes stayed closed, but you stuck your tongue out in his direction, smirking a little and keeping your feet up, knowing he didn’t really mind.

Both of you had endured a long fucking day.

Winter was fading into Spring, and the trees and plants in Jackson were slowly but surely beginning to bloom again. It meant you were spending more hours in the green house than out on patrol, and you weren’t complaining. Tending to the garden relaxed you, connected you to nature and to one of the food sources in the commune that helped put a little bit of food on everyone’s plate each week. Working there made you feel connected to the town, and you loved it, truly. Except, for when a thunderstorm happened.

They’d scared you for as long as you could remember. Since you were a kid, thunder and lightning had made you want to crawl under the covers on your bed and hide away until the loud noises disappeared. But as a full-grown woman, you weren’t afforded such luxuries. Rain, hail or shine, the people in Jackson depended on each other, and you couldn’t duck out of a shift because of a silly little phobia.

When the rain started pouring down on the glass roof of the greenhouse you hadn’t been surprised. Only a few weeks into springtime, the town was still shaking off the remnants of a bitterly cold winter, and a little rain was still common. It was only when the first crack of thunder sounded that you’d stilled, hands frozen gripping a heavy pot, an unwelcome shiver racing down your spine. You’d had to work for hours, the sound of rain pelting against the roof accompanying you, with flashes of lightning appearing out of the corner of your eye all day.

When all was said and done, you’d trudged through the downpour to Joel’s house and arrived on his doorstep looking like a drowned rat, only to find out that he’d spent his afternoon stuck outside on patrol, in the very weather you were so upset about.

He’d opened the door with damp hair, bundled in warm clothes, the tip of his nose a light shade of pink from the cold.

“Whiskey?” he’d asked.

You nodded. “Whiskey.”

And so the pair of you had ended up on his porch, under cover from the residual spit of rain, forgetting all about the shit day through good company and good alcohol.

As Joel strummed the last few chords of the song you sighed glumly, cracking an eye open to watch him. He set the guitar down gently and reached for his glass.

“So beautiful,” you murmured. “Wish I could play.”

“And then what use would I be?” he chuckled. “Can’t have you learning guitar; I’d have no one to play for anymore.”

You watched him closely. Staring into his glass, you could see him mulling the words over in his head. Ellie had hardly spoken a word to him in weeks, and you could see the toll it was taking, although you never pried. Clearly, something had happened, and although you and Joel were close, you hadn’t wanted to insert yourself into whatever drama had consumed his little found family. It made your chest hurt though, to watch him miss that girl. He’d always loved playing for her.

“Good thing I’m lazy then,” you mused softly. “Swear I couldn’t play an instrument with a gun to my head. I’ll need to keep you around.”

“Works for me,” he said, refilling both your glasses. “You on the patrol roster tomorrow?”

You shook your head, accepting the glass with a grateful smile. A slight buzz warmed your insides, fighting to keep your body temperature up as the cool breeze licked at your exposed hands and face. “Nope, I’m a free agent tomorrow, no responsibilities.”

“God damn,” he rolled his eyes. “Gonna be stuck out there all alone with Tommy.”

“Devastating,” you grinned. “I’m way better company.”

“Too right,” Joel agreed. “What’s your plan for the day, little miss no responsibilities? Still reading that book I found you?”

Probably masturbate. The thought zipped through your mind so suddenly that you felt your chest warm, and you cleared your throat softly.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Probably just read for a while. Dinner at Maria and Tommy's, remember?”

You hoped he didn’t see through the lie, because the truth was that you were embarrassed by yourself. Only a few days before you’d been struck by the realisation that you hadn’t had sex, or even been touched intimately by another person, in months. In fact, you noted sullenly, it had been half a fucking year. And you were struggling. It was your longest dry spell in a while, and every night lately you’d found yourself tangled up in your bed with your hand in your underwear, wishing desperately that someone, anyone, else was there with you.

Trying to ward off the unsavoury thoughts filling your mind, you took a deep gulp of whiskey and shut your eyes, contemplating asking if he had any cigarettes laying around.

Suddenly, a deep groan pierced the air between you and your eyes shot open. What the fuck?

With wide eyes, you saw that Joel was gripping his right leg tightly, thumb rubbing deep circles into the skin above his knee cap, and you forced yourself to relax. A sound of pain, you realised. But your heart had stuttered in your chest, because as out of character as it would’ve been, with your eyes closed it had sounded like a vaguely sexual noise. You rolled your eyes, willing yourself to get a grip. But it had been so long, and the sound of a man groaning in any way was enough to light a fire in your stomach.

“It’s the cold,” he noticed your stare. “Makes my knee ache.”

You nodded knowingly, eyes watching as his large hand gripped his thigh, applying pressure to the tender area.

“What’s up your ass?” Joel asked.

“Huh?” your gaze flashed up to meet his and found him watching you closely, eyebrows furrowed.

“You’re frownin’,” he said. “Gone all quiet suddenly.”

“So are you,” you huffed defensively, face warming. “You always fucking frown, I can’t do it one time?”

“No,” he grinned cheekily, stilling rubbing his knee. “I frown enough for the both of us. You can figure somethin’ else out.”

You let out a begrudging chuckle and felt the indent between your eyebrows relax.

“Seriously,” he pushed. “What’s wrong? Is it too cold? We should move inside.”

“No,” you cringed, scratching the side of your neck awkwardly. Lowering your legs off the table you sat up a little straighter in your chair. “It’s good out here, I like it. I’m just… distracted, I don’t know.”

“What’s on your mind?” he sipped his whiskey.

Without needing any more prompting, you gave up on beating around the bush. “When’s the last time you had sex?”

A choked sound escaped him, and he swallowed quickly, coughing into his elbow. “Christ, what?”

“I’m not,” your cheeks were on fire. “I’m not thinking about you having sex, relax. I was thinking about me having sex. Or not having sex, to be more precise.”

He coughed again, an awkward expression flashing across his face.

You and Joel had been friends for a few years now, since he and Ellie returned to Jackson and decided to settle in the commune. After being friends with Tommy for a few years before that, you’d fallen into a natural friendship with his older brother. It was no secret that there was 20 odd year age difference between you and Joel, but in a post-apocalyptic world, it had never phased either of you. Friends were friends, and an age gap didn’t impact much. But sex was a topic that had seldom come up in conversation over those few years. Here and there maybe, but never in detail, and never so candidly.

“I almost walked in on Shae and Petra fucking the other day,” you continued plainly. “She was late for patrol, so I went over to see if she’d slept in, and I could hear them from outside the fucking house. Stood there like an ass for a minute, just listening like a creep.”

Joel watched you closely, and you noticed his hand gripped his glass a little tighter, fingertips white from the pressure “You… listened?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” you cringed, rubbing a hand over your face shamefully. “Just for a fucking second. Hadn’t realised how long it had been, and it was like my feet wouldn’t move.”

“I see.”

“You better not tell a soul about this,” you pointed at him threateningly. “I’ll end you if anybody finds out, Miller. I swear.”

“I believe you,” he snorted, holding his hands up in surrender. “My lips are sealed.”

You relaxed a little, relieved to discover that he wasn’t going to be as awkward about it as you’d first feared.

“How long has it been?”

Your eyes ticked up to stare at him again. “Like, six months or something.”

Joel let out a low whistle and nodded slowly, sipping from the crystal tumbler in his hand. “You poor soul.”

“Oh, come off it,” you scoffed in disbelief. “Don’t tell me you’re having sex and I’m not? This just keeps getting worse.”

“Fuck you,” he drawled mockingly, that deep Texan accent making you grin. “Would it be such a surprise if I was?”

“S’just bullshit,” you glowered, picking at your nails in frustration. Traces of soil still lined the creases in your palms and you rubbed at it furiously, in a fruitless attempt at cleaning them.

“I’m not,” is all he said, and you frowned at him in confusion. “Havin’ sex,” he added with a smirk. "And it's been longer for me, so quit your whinin'."

You raised your eyebrows, appreciating the honesty. “Well thank god I’m not the only one.”

“Don’t know when I would,” he shrugged simply. “And who would I be having sex with, anyways? Spend all my fuckin’ time on patrol listening to Tommy talk for hours, or I’m sleepin’, or I’m with you.”

The thought itched so suddenly at the back of your brain, and you fought against it, shaking your head ever so slightly to push it away. Don’t think that. But it was persistent, and after a few moments of silence, your mind was filled with thoughts of you and Joel Miller fucking.

Admittedly, it was something you’d thought about once or twice when you’d first met him. He was a handsome guy, and his arrival in Jackson had definitely caused a stir among the women in the commune. But you’d fallen into a friendship so quickly, so comfortably, that the thought had never reared its ugly head again. Until now.

You watched him for a moment. His hair was dry at that point, and short messy curls framed his face and neck. He had neat dark facial hair, with sweet specks of ashy grey mixed in here and there. That familiar scar on the bridge of his nose. Lips that had gone a darker shade of pink from the cold, that you’d never realised looked quite so… plush. Eyes trailing down, your gaze raked over his hands. Long, calloused fingers that wrapped around almost the entirety of his glass. the warmth in your stomach spread downward, and you knew you should feel embarrassed at where your brain was taking you, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Images flashed through your mind of his hands gripping you like that. Fingers leaving marks on your thighs, on your neck. You shivered, looking away quickly.

“Fuck,” you sighed quietly, not even caring if he heard.

“Hey,” he said softly, assuming you were upset. “Someone’ll come along. We could talk to Tommy about setting you up or somethin’.”

You hummed noncommittally and turned in your chair to face him head on. Joel noticed and adjusted his position to do the same, raising an eyebrow. “What’s that look?” he asked, eyebrows pinching together.

Jesus, here goes nothing.

“What if we fucked?”

Joel stared. His jaw clenched almost imperceptibly, and he put his glass down on the table with a soft clink.

“What?” he said lowly, his voice taking on a sudden gravelly quality.

“I mean,” you searched desperately for the words to explain yourself, licking your lips nervously. “You said it yourself, we’re so busy, right? Always working, or sleeping, or we’re hanging out, you and me. So, what if we just… blew off a little steam together?”

His eyebrows had raised so dramatically you thought they might disappear into his hairline. It wasn’t often you managed to shock Joel, and you laughed gently at the astounded expression that decorated his face.

“You want to blow off steam… with me?” he pointed lamely at his chest.

“Don’t sound so incredulous,” you joked. “You’re a catch, Joel. You know the teens call you a HOG, right? Hot old guy.“

“Shut up,” he held up a hand to silence you, his eyes squeezing shut tightly as you laughed at his embarrassment. “Don’t want to hear that shit.”

“It wouldn’t mean anything, Joel,” you reassured, veering back on topic. “We could just… help each other wind down after a long day.”

You watched each other in silence for a moment, and you noticed him shuffle slightly in his seat, hand gripping his knee once again. For a minute, you worried that you’d upset him. The friendship you two shared was strong, and you always known you could confide almost anything in him. He was trustworthy, and valued your word above so many others. But maybe this was over the line.

As you were about to speak again, about to take it all back and apologise for even suggesting it, he finally opened his mouth.

“It wouldn’t mean anything?” he clarified. “This won’t affect our friendship.”

You shook your head quickly. “Nothing at all. No strings, bud. Final offer.”

With a deep, rumbling sigh, Joel snatched his glass off the table and downed the remainder of its contents before standing up. “Alright then.”

You’d been in Joel’s room a hundred times over the years. Hauling him out of bed for patrol after he’d accidentally slept in, or rifling through his chest of drawers to steal a thick pair of socks. But never for this reason. The pair of you stood awkwardly at the foot of his bed, staring at everything other than each other, as the air crackled with palpable tension.

Joel scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, and you smirked, unfamiliar with seeing him being unsure of himself.

“If you don’t want to, we can just forget I ever sai-“

“Just taking your fuckin’ clothes off,” he grunted, staring you down suddenly. Wide eyed, you felt a rush of heat through your thighs.

“Jesus,” you breathed. “Romance isn’t dead.”

He huffed out a laugh and your shoulders relaxed, happy to see a crack through his tense façade. Your tugged off your sweater, and then your shirt, tossing them over the chair in the corner of his room. Working quickly, you undid the zipper on your pants and pulled them down your legs until you were left in your underwear, a thin white singlet, and your socks.

You reminded yourself that Joel had already seen you naked, thinking back on a time when the two of you had gone skinny dipping in a lake you stumbled across on patrol the summer before. But this was so different. This wasn’t a random moment of spontaneity. And at the lake he'd been a gentleman, averting his eyes for the most part out of politeness, but now? Now he was watching your every move.

Silently, he undid the strap off his watch and placed it on the top of his dresser, before working to undo the buttons on his shirt. After he had tugged it off, you let your eyes trail over his exposed skin, and with no fabric covering him, you could see how quickly his chest rose and fell.

“Hey,” you said quietly, stepping forward and placing a hand on his chest. You felt his heart race under the warm skin and smiled. “It’s just me. Let me help you relax, okay?”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips quickly, and you wondered what it would be like to kiss him. You didn’t dwell on it though, and leaned forward to drag your lips across the skin of his neck. He smelt like rain and pine needles, and you inhaled deeply, pressing soft kisses along his pulse point. One of his hands landed heavily on your waist and his thumb begun rubbing encouraging circles over your hip bone. You hummed against his skin, pressing your chest against his. Exposed to the cool temperature, your nipples pebbled underneath your shirt, and from his exhale you knew he could feel them pressing against his bare chest.

With a slight tremor in your hand, you trailed your fingers down his chest. Through the soft hair smattered there, over the thick jagged scar on his stomach, to his belt buckle. Joel shivered lightly, gripping your waist a little tighter. You worked quickly to undo his belt, and then you dragged his zipper down. With a low sigh, you rested your hand over the front of his pants. He jolted slightly, hand sliding around your back to hold you tighter to his chest. With your face hidden in his neck, you couldn’t see his reaction, but you took the firm pressure of his hand on your back as a clear sign to continue. You palmed him gently through his pants, listening to the little puffs of air that rushed out of his nose as he kept his breathing calm. A surge of confidence rushed through you, and you stepped away, letting your hand fall away from him. His arm dropped from your back to his side, and he watched with bated breath as you lowered yourself onto your knees in front of him.

You gripped the waistband of his pants and started to drag them down his legs, helping him step out of them. Wearing nothing but a tight pair of briefs, it was impossible not to stare. You could see the shape of him through the dark fabric, your mouth salivated. More, you needed to see more. Without wasting a second, you tucked your fingers into the band of them and pulled them down slowly, giving him the chance to stop you if he wanted to. But he didn’t. He watched you with hooded dark eyes, chest moving with deep controlled breaths, his bottom lip tucked into his mouth. With his underwear gone, Joel’s cock finally came into your sight. He was only half hard, you realised with awe, and your stomach tingled as you realised what you were in for. Reaching out, your traced your fingers slowly over his hip bones, smiling as goosebumps broke out across his skin, before gently wrapping your fingers around him.

A shaky breath escaped from his nose.

“Is this okay?” you asked quietly, hand stroking softly along his length. He nodded jerkily. “Why don’t you sit on the bed?”

Joel dropped heavily onto the edge of his bed, and you moved forward to rest on your knees in between his parted legs, placing your hand back over him. The air in the room had turned humid, and you could feel sweat forming on your back out of anticipation. The only light source came from the moon shining in his window, bathing the both of you in a pale light.

“You’re so handsome,” you sighed wistfully, gripping him tighter. “I’ve always known it, but seeing you like this is different. So handsome, Joel.”

He reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, gripping your skin and massaging the knotted muscle at the top of your back. You groaned appreciatively, and without another moment’s hesitation, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his thigh. No more fucking around. You needed him.

Your hand stroked him firmer, tighter, but your mouth was salivating, desperate to taste him. So you dragged wet kisses along his leg until you reached his abdomen, and then you brought your wet mouth to hover over his cock. You heard his breath hitch and smiled devilishly, staring greedily at his ruddy tip, marvelling as a drop of precum leaked out of him. Painfully slow, you pushed forward and pressed a kiss to it, tongue darting out to swipe along him and taste his salt. Joel hissed in surprise, gripping your shoulder tighter as his other hand moved to the back of your head. Not putting any pressure there, just holding you. Lathing your tongue over his head, you moaned lowly at the taste of him. Salty and warm and masculine. You could feel your underwear sticking uncomfortably against you from how wet you were. Closing your eyes, you cupped his balls gently and pressed wet kisses down his length, dragging your tongue over the pulsing vein that ran from base to tip, and basking in the short gasps that flew out of his mouth.

“Stop teasin’,” he grumbled, and you looked up with a smirk to see his dark eyes glaring down at you.

“Sorry,” you lied, before taking his head into your warm mouth and sucking gently. Slowly, you pressed forward, taking more of him in. You felt him swell against your tongue, getting harder from the stimulation, and you hummed around him. He was so big. Maybe bigger than anyone you’d been with, and you struggled to take it all. He was so thick and heavy in your mouth, it was all you could think about. Consuming every thought, every feeling; all you could focus on was the weight of him on your tongue. You worked on creating a rhythm, bobbing your head and taking as much of him in your mouth as you could, while your hand gripped him at the base, stroking him at the same time.

And finally, finally, he made a sound.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, drawing out the vowel as a heavy breath he’d been holding escaped his lungs. His fingers dragged through your hair roughly, gripping the back of your head. You pushed yourself forward, taking more of him in until he was pressing into your throat, and you swallowed tightly around him. “Christ, feels so fuckin’ good.”

Seemingly against his will, Joel’s hips bucked upward off the bed and you gagged around him, tears springing into your eyes. He moaned lowly, cursing under his breath at the feeling of your throat contracting around him. Unable to help yourself, you removed your hand from him and lowered it down your body, slipping your fingers underneath the band of your underwear and dipping into the wet heat between your own legs. Breathing harshly through your nose, you moaned around him as your finger brushed your aching clit. You pulled back and worked your tongue over his weeping slit, enjoying the way his grip on your hair tightened as you paid close attention to the most sensitive part of him.

“You’re drivin’ me insane,” he ground out, and you glanced up to see him watching you reverently, eyes wide and glossy, cheeks flushed. “So fuckin’ hot. God, you have the prettiest mouth, how did I never notice that? Never fuckin’ thought about how good my cock would look between your lips until it was happening. I’m a fuckin’ idiot.”

Your cunt pulsed against your fingers and you whimpered, taking him back in your mouth as far as you could. God, the way he spoke made you fucking ache for him. after so many years of knowing him, hearing his voice every day, you’d never have imagined him saying things like that to you. But the weight of him in your mouth was delicious, and his words only spurred you to push forward, forward, forward, revelling in the way he groaned as your nose brushed the dark curls at his base. Tears leaked out of your eyes, rolling down your cheeks from the effort, but you didn’t stop. You slid a finger inside yourself and gagged around him again, eyes rolling back in your head at the intoxicating sensation of having something inside both your mouth and your pussy.

“Takin’ me so well,” his thumb brushed across your cheek, wiping away the tears. “God, I’m in your fuckin’ throat, baby.” The pet name made your stomach tighten, and you moaned as more slick formed around your fingers.

“Shit,” he choked out suddenly, losing all composure. “Are you fucki-“

You moaned, eyebrows furrowing as you fucked your hand and bobbed your mouth up and down quicker over his length.

“Stop,” he ordered, saying your name firmly. “I- Stop, I’m gonna come.” You ignored him, making a high-pitched sound around him as you felt the hot coil in your stomach begin to tighten. His hand gripped your hair tighter, and he pulled you off him.

You blinked lazily up at him, eyebrows furrowed dejectedly, lips parted. A string of saliva hung in the air between your bottom lip and his tip. You dragged your fingers out of your underwear, chest heaving with heavy breaths.

“Jesus, don’t fuckin’ look at me like that,” he groaned and broke eye contact, gripping your shoulder to pull you up off the floor. “Get up.”

Pushing gently on your shoulders, he nudged you forward onto the bed, and you crawled up before collapsing with your heads against the pillows. His bed was softer than you’d anticipated, and everything smelt like him. The pillows, the duvet. God, even if this was a one-time thing, you’d never forget that smell. He followed you, settling with his legs in between yours, and placed his palms on your stomach, pushing the thin material of your shirt up and over your breasts until it was bunched around your collarbones. Your heart pounded heavily in your chest, and you were aching for him, begging him with your eyes to just please, do something, anything.

And Joel was on you before you could speak, his fingers tracing and over your nipples, squeezing the weight of your breast in his palm before latching his lips onto you. He sucked your painfully tight nipple into his mouth, tongue lazily swiping across it, driving you insane. You sighed heavily, running a hand over the skin of his back and holding him to you. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin ever so lightly and your back arched off the bed. Moving over, he shifted his ministrations to your other breast, his eyes closed as he wet your skin with his slick mouth. And then one of his hands was drifting down your stomach, tickling over your skin, under it met your underwear, and he was cupping you through the fabric. Your hips stuttered upward, and he groaned into your chest, trailing his fingers over the soaked material.

“So fuckin’ wet already,” he muttered into your skin, and you nodded franticly against the pillows. “Did you get this turned on just from havin’ my cock in your mouth? Had to touch yourself?” Surprise zapped through you once more, ecstatic to learn just how much he loved to talk during sex. It was one of your favourite things, and it had always killed you to have sex with someone who was just silent the whole time.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Wanted you to finish in my mouth.”

He bit down onto your chest in response and you cried out quietly, eyes rolling back as he sucked a mark onto your skin with his fingers continued tracing feather light over your covered core.

“Maybe later,” his voice was strained. “Need to see you come first.”

He pulled the fabric of your underwear to the side, and then he was touching you with no barrier, and you trembled beneath him. You’d forgotten how good it felt to have someone else’s hands on you.

Joel groaned as he dipped his middle finger between your warm folds, gliding it up and down along your core, getting it covered in your slick. He swirled the tip of his finger around your entrance and you whimpered, hips grinding desperately against his hand. But he didn’t go inside you. His finger moved back up, all the way up, and swiped gently over your clit and you let out a pathetic moan. Such a small, miniscule touch had your stomach tensing painfully, ridiculously close to orgasm after so much time.

Bringing his face up to rest beside yours, he sucked your earlobe into his mouth gently, before murmuring in your ear, “I want to taste you.”

You didn’t say anything, too stunned by the feeling of his fingers against you, until he probed you for a response, purring your name into your ear.

“Need to hear you say it,” he encouraged. “Tell me what you want.”

“Please,” you begged, eyes shut tightly as he rubbed soft circles around your bundle of nerves. “I want you to taste me.” A grunt of frustration left your mouth as his hand disappeared and you opened your eyes to glare at him, but your mouth fell open, awestruck, when you saw him raise his soaked digits to his lips.

“Like this?” he goaded, sucking your slick off himself and groaning.

“Please,” you repeated, mouth dry as you watched him hum around his middle finger. “Need your mouth on me, your tongue, I-“

“Okay,” he soothed, moving down the bed in an instant. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

He spread your legs apart, fingers splayed as he held your thighs against the bed, displaying your weeping centre for him to see. A deep sound echoed though the room, and it took you a moment to realise it had been Joel. His dark eyes stared at the spot between your legs, and he dragged his fingers through the coarse hair that covered you.

His movements were torturously slow as he leaned down, pressing sloppy kisses on your hips, along the inside of your thighs, until finally his hot breaths were fanning across your core. You clenched around nothing, whimpering at how empty you felt but knowing it would have to wait.

It was like stepping into a warm bath. The second his tongue was on you, fire raced through your veins, warming your body from head to toe. A sound of relief slipped from your lips, and your eyes rolled back as he licked a broad stripe up the entire length of you. A raspy groan vibrated against you as he pressed a messy kiss against your pussy. You looked down and gasped at the sight of his eyes already on you, watching you and your reactions to him.

“Taste so fuckin’ good,” he drawled against you and you twitched at the sensation of his lips brushing against your clit. His thumbs pressed against your folds, holding you open for him to see everything, and he lathed his warm tongue against your clit, circling it until you were moaning and tensing your thighs against his hold, muscles screaming at you to press against his head and hold him to you.

You whispered his name over and over as if it were a prayer. As if you’d forgotten all other words in the English language and his name was your only salvation. His tongue dipped inside your entrance, prodding firmly until you whimpered and begged him to please, please, let you come.

He ate you out like a man possessed. Like you were his last meal and he intended to savour every god damn second of the experience. He was ravenous, lips and tongue working together to make every muscle in your body tighten until you were gasping. At some point your hand had drifted behind his head and you found yourself tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling it tightly as his mouth moved against you.

“Joel,” you groaned. He hummed against you, movements never ceasing. “Oh fuck, Joel, I’m gonna come.”

His eager moan into your cunt was all it took for you to be catapulted over the precipice and drop into your orgasm. Your body was on fire, vibrating against him as you trembled through it, moans and cries leaving your mouth as your way of thanking him. His hands held your thighs in a vice grip, and there would no doubt be marks there tomorrow to remind you were his fingertips had dug into your skin. As your body relaxed into the mattress again, he pressed a final kiss to your clit before pulling back and dragging his face across your thigh, wiping the remnants of your slick off his facial hair.

“Fuck,” he rasped, grinning up at you with glistening lips.

“So good,” you agreed, nodding as you tried to catch your breath.

“Almost came all over the sheets,” he admitted and you laughed, beckoning him towards you. He stumbled a bit, one of his knees buckling below him on the bed, leading him to land awkwardly on top of you.

“Shit,” he groused. “Sorry, bad fuckin’ knee. You’ve got me all bent out of shape.”

You chuckled lowly, pulling him up to lay beside you on the bed. “Let’s not put anymore pressure of them then, okay?” He watched you carefully, curiously, as you turned on your side and then moved backwards, pressing yourself flush against his chest.

His cock pulsed against your ass, and he wrapped an arm around your waist, hand splayed on your stomach to hold you against him as he rutted forward. The feeling of his wet tip dragging along your skin reignited the fire in you and you whimpered, lifting your leg only to push it back and drape it over his waist as much as you could.

“You want it like this?” he asked urgently, hot breaths fanning across your sweaty neck. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging on it gently.

You nodded, and waited as he pushed his body a little lower on the bed. His hand disappeared from your chest, and you allowed yourself to pout a little, only because you knew he couldn’t see your face. And then his left arm slithered underneath your shoulder and wrapped loosely your neck, gripping your opposite arm to pin you against him. His free hand gripped his cock and pushed it forward until he was sliding his head between your folds.

Both of you sighed at the sensation and you gripped his arm in anticipation. You could feel his torso moving against your back as he breathed, the soft hair on his chest tickling your skin.

“You ready?” he asked and you grunted, pushing back against him again.

“Joel,” you said in a dangerously low tone. “If you’ve ever cared about me, you will stop teasing and fuck me right now.”

He laughed darkly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Yes, ma’am.”

He notched his tip at your entrance and you gasped as he pressed forward, pressing himself inside of you. It took what felt like minutes for him to bottom out, and when you felt his hips pressing against your ass, you tried to relax. The burn was intense, and you cursed yourself for not anticipating a little bit of pain after such a long dry spell. Joel held still, fingers stroking carefully over the skin of your shoulder, understanding that you needed a second.

“Fuck,” you choked out. “Joel, you’re huge.”

He let out a gravelly sound into the back of your neck, body shuddering against yours. “You’re takin’ it so well though,” he gritted out. “So tight around me, grippin’ me so good.”

He pulled back a touch before pressing back into you, and you moaned deeply. That was all the confirmation he needed to continue, pulling almost fully out of you before moving into you harder, stronger, and beginning a steady pace. Your body jolted forward with every one of his movements, but his arm around your neck held you firmly, never allowing you to go too far.

Curses drifted from your mouth, and you hid your face in his arm, biting down on the muscle of his bicep to stifle your sounds. You clenched around him suddenly and his hips stuttered forward, slamming into you in a way that made your stomach tense deliciously. He was so fucking deep, the angle allowing him to glide against your g-spot with every thrust.

“Fuckin’,” he moaned. “You’re so good, bein’ so fuckin’ good for me, aren’t you darlin’?”

You writhed in his arms, accepting the brutal pace he’d set. His skin connected with yours over and over, a satisfying smack, smack, smack sound filling the air.

“J-Joel,” you sobbed. “Oh my fucking god, I-“ He cut you off, gripping your chin and swiftly tugging your face upward so he could see you, and then his mouth was crashing down on yours. He groaned into your mouth, tongue pressing against your lips to part them and then tangling against yours. His lips were soft and wet and you didn’t even care about the odd angle your neck was twisted at as you moaned into it. His thrusts didn’t let up for a second, even as you murmured desperate sounds against each other’s lips.

“C’mon,” he grunted into your mouth. “Give me another one.” His hand dropped to grip your neck, the sensation only heightening the feeling of him inside you. Liquid heat was spreading in your abdomen, curling through your veins, turning your entire body into jelly. His free hand drifted down your stomach and then his middle finger was dragging across your clit, and a harsh cry spilled from your mouth.

“Shit,” you gasped, face contorting as you felt yourself near your end. He was fucking everywhere, holding you against him by your neck, pounding into you while his fingers circled your clit roughly, and the coil in your stomach just snapped. You yelled his name, body tensing up as he pushed into you, wet squelching sounds filling the air as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“Say my name,” his voice urged in your ear, and you happily obliged, chanting his name like a mantra as he worked your body through it. Within a minute he was groaning frantically, and then he pulled out, and you could feel his come coating your back as he finished. You glanced over your shoulder to see him. His mouth was ajar, soft curses falling from his lips as he gripped his cock, angling it towards you as he painted your skin with his spend.

“Sorry,” he rushed out breathlessly, wide eyes meeting yours. His shoulders shook with the intensity of his orgasm, adrenaline pumping through his veins, and you smiled at the sight. But he looked concerned, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you warily.

“For what?” you frowned softly, rolling forward onto your stomach to free his arm that was trapped underneath you. “What’s wrong?”

“Came on you,” he clarified. “Should’ve asked first.”

A grin split across your face and his eyes lit up when he saw it, face relaxing again. “Ever the gentleman,” you chuckled. “It’s fine Joel, it was hot.”

His body relaxed and he dropped down to rest on his back, looking at you with a soft, curious expression. “It was,” he agreed quietly.

For a moment the pair of you just laid there, gazing at each other in a moment of wonder, before you suddenly became aware of how much colder the room was now that it was over. You shivered slightly, lifting to sit on your knees. Joel’s eyes trailed over your exposed body, gazing at your breasts, and your stomach, before resting on your face again.

“I’m gonna shower, and then hit the road,” you told him, cringing at the prominent ache between your thighs as you stepped off the bed. You picked your clothes up off the chair in the corner and turned back to look at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow night right, dinner at Maria and Tommy’s?”

He was watching you in a daze, eyelids heavy with drowsiness, but he nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he drawled. “Dinner at Maria and Tommy’s.” His eyes suddenly widened and he rolled over, reaching underneath his pillow before revealing a piece of small dark fabric. Your underwear. He held them out in your direction.

“Keep them big guy,” you winked, and he laughed deeply, dropping them back onto the bed.

You padded towards the door, ready to pop into the bathroom and then head home, before a thought struck you. Resting your shoulder against the doorway you looked at him again, smiling at the sight of him lying naked and fucked out on the bed, eyes closed as he breathed deeply. He looked about as relieved as you felt.

“Hey Joel,” you said quietly, and his eyes flashed open, raising an eyebrow at you. “Between us, right? Probably best if we don’t tell anyone else this happened.”

He nodded once, smiling lazily. “Between us.”

part two

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #fwb joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #my writing #cat's outta the bag #don't cry over spilt milk #whole new can of worms

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uniquedinosaurdreamland · 1 month

Text

Lionesses x Reader

-Spiderman and Cinderella-

Cute little start to a maybe series xx

Lionesses x Reader, Lionesses x R!Children!

🌷

Your whole life was flipped upside down at sixteen. You were on your way to become an amazing football player, playing the the U17’s Lionesses as well as in the Liverpool Academy and were deemed one of the best upcoming players. But It all went down hill when one night at a party you got drunk, slept with a guy and before you knew it, you were standing in a bathroom with a positive pregnancy test staring right back at you.

Conversation after conversation followed with family, friends and staff about what to do next. You had managed to contact the boy from that night only to get ghosted and to find out he had left town the next week with his family.

You support system was made up of the best people in your life, being there with you through everything even when learning that it wasn’t just one baby but two. Nine months later your beautiful twins were born, Theo Luka Y/L/N coming out first followed by his sister Maisie Luna Y/LN. Your heart was full from the moment your babies were placed into your arms and you knew you would give them the world and more.

Nobody expected you to return back to football but just four months later your were back in the academy, juggling school, football and your twins but in the end you made it work. Now fast forward three years with your two bundles of joy now being three years old you were on your way to your first senior call up for the England National team.

You were the last to arrive at St George's Park due to having two bubbly, energy filled toddlers who refused to wear anything beside a Spiderman costume for Theo and a Cinderella dress for Maisie. Arriving just in time for dinner, you left your bags as you were notified someone would take up to your room that only held you and the twins.

There was no time to be nervous when entering the dining hall, having two of the most extroverted toddlers ever they didn’t waste anytime in rushing through the doors and towards the food. Taking no notice of the many eyes that snapped to the two toddlers, like always in their own little worlds.

“Slow down guys, I will get your food. Be patient please.” You ran in after them, smiling apologetically at the chef who didn’t know what to do with two kids babbling at him in a toddler language he couldn’t quite understand.

“You got some energetic kids there.” You turned around to the voice of Sarina, smiling as she pulled you into a hug before bending down to the twins levels. “Hi, my name is Sarina. What are your names?”

Maisie and Theo looked up at you simultaneously, making sure to give them a small nod to tell Sarina their names. “Spiderman” Sarina let out a laugh at Theo’s answer.

“Well nice to meet you Spiderman, and I am guessing you are a princess.” Sarina turned to Maisie after shaking Theo’s hand gently.

“I am Cinderella.” Maisie said poking out her chest in pride, you couldn’t help but smile as your new coach stood a curtsied to Maisie, the toddler letting out her tiny giggles that never failed to melt your heart.

Sarina stood with you as you grabbed plates and filled them with food you knew Theo and Maisie would like, lucky for you they were absolutely angles when it came to eating, when they were younger both of them even ate dog food for you childhood dog that was set out at your parents home.

“Two hands.” Placing the tray carefully into Maisie’s hand. Unbeknownst to you Leah and Lucy had stood from their respective tables and made their way towards the group of you.

“Need a little help there mister?” Leah bent down grabbing the tray from Theo’s hands to her own as he saw the young boy struggling. “You wanna come sit with me, I’m Leah.” Theo once again looked warily at the blonde stranger reaching behind him to tug you shirt, causing you to turn around.

“Hi.” You couldn’t help but be awestruck at the two world class defenders in front of you, managing only a small greeting.

“Hi, I’m Leah I can take this little guy to come sit with me.” The blonde greeted showing off her trademark smile.

“Oh god, you really don’t have to.” You said shaking your head knowing Theo was in his most energetic mood and he was eating his dinner which meant he was very messy.

“Mummy I want to go.” You looked down surprise at Theo.

“Okay then off you go, I want all the veggies gone when I come check.” Not another word was uttered from your three year old as he happily took Leah’s hand as she led him to her table that sat Keira, Georgia, Beth, Jordan and Katie. You didn’t even notice Maisie was already sat at a table with Lucy, Rachel, Millie, Mary and Alex.

“What just happened?” You said to no one in particular, Sarina laughing and patting your back.

“You got free babysitting, just go with it.” Sarina smiled before making her way back to the staff tables.

You didn’t have to worry about where to sit cause as soon as you turned around from grabbing your plate the loud voice of Ella Toone rang out calling you over to sit down at a table that held herself, Alessia, Lotte, Esme, Lauren and Chloe. Your nerves shattered away as you fell into a comfortable conversation with the group of girls, not taking any note to the conversations your twins were having with some of Englands best.

“Is your Mummy good at football?” Rachel asked Maisie who was stuffing her face with food, sat comfortably in her chair that had four cushions stacked to keep her in level with the table.

“My Mummy is the best, she gets all the balls in the net.” Maisie smiled at Rachel who she had now named Ra-Ra, the three year old having a nick for coming up with nicknames for people with names she deemed to hard or long to say.

“She sounds pretty good.” Millie smiled at the little girl across the table.

Back at the table Theo was sitting in he was telling a long story about how he was going to be the best football player ever. “What position?” Keira asked the boy, who thought about his answer for a sec.

“Keeper like Jordan Pickford and Mary Earps.” Theo replied with a big smile on his face.

“Yo, Mary you’ve got a future keeper here, says he wants to be like you and Pickford.” Georgia yelled to the table Mary was sitting at, she caught Theo’s eye giving him a big smile and thumbs up.

“Theo what happened to becoming a striker like your mum.” You said to Theo having caught wind of the conversation that was happening across the room.

“Keepers at the unseen hero’s of the game.” You jaw dropped as the three keepers around the room cheered at your son’s words.

“Who told you that? also your veggies better be done.” Your son’s face dropped from his sly smirk into a annoyed face as he looked down at the broccoli and carrots on his plate that you knew for a fact he did like but just didn’t eat it straight away to annoy you.

Having lost track of the time as everyone sat and talked you looked down at your phone to see it was the just about time to put the twins to bed, knowing they were bound to crash soon you knew it was time to get them to bed.

What you hadn’t expected to see when you stood up to grab the two toddlers were both of them fast asleep Theo in the arms of Beth and Maisie asleep in the lap of Millie, looking tiny in comparison to the brick wall.

“It will never seize to amaze me how they always fall asleep with everyone else but me.” You smiled at Beth who gently passed Theo into your arms.

“You’ll be back down right we are all just hanging out down in the team room.” Leah asked before you could step away from the table.

“As soon as these two are settled I will be back, by the looks of things I will be back very quickly.” You smiled at the table walked over to the other table where Maisie was cured into Millie’s chest.

“I can bring her up.” Millie immediately offered, making your heart melt at the kindness from all these women just on your first night.

Soon enough with Theo in your arms, Maisie in Millies as well as Rachel tagging along for the ride you made it up to your room without any toddlers waking up. “Was it hard to come back from giving birth?” The question came out of no where from Millie as you placed Theo into bed.

“I though about not doing football and just giving up all together, I was sixteen, still in school with twins it was almost impossible to do it. But football is everything to me and I really wanted to come back and I knew if I worked hard enough I could make it my career. It was hard, but even getting this call up makes it feel all worth it.” Millie and Rachel nodded along to your words as you placed both twins on one of the beds, making sure to set up a baby monitor in case they woke up.

“They’ll be fine in there?” Rachel asked.

“They’ve had a long day i’ll be very surprised if they wake up before I come back to the room, they somehow always wake up when they feel my presence come back.”

Coming back to one of the team common room everyone was sitting around in their different groups. You decided to join a group of the younger girls who were playing a game of uno.

“I’ll deal you in.” Alessia said smiling up and giving you seven cards to play the game.

You were able to play about two rounds with Niamh taking the win for one round while you took the win for the other. Most of the girls also had a big travel day so everyone headed to bed early including you, waving goodnight to Esme and Lauren who took the room beside you. You quickly entered the room quickly checking on the twins, getting ready for bed and falling straight asleep.

#woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #lionesses #lionesses x reader #leah williamson #millie bright #rachel daly #beth mead #engwnt #keira walsh #sarina wiegman #lucy bronze

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hidden-poet · 2 months

Text

Commander Snow; chapter 6

Commander Snow

Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.

Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns, explicit, violence, death.

Editor: @hotline-to-hell

chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Being Commander of District 12 meant that Coriolanus couldn’t just whisk you away to the forest to face his fears. He had a whole army dependent on him. It meant that while you were held up in his apartment, he was held up in his office.

It annoyed him to no end. To have you so close and yet still out of reach.

Despite you living with him for a week, you’ve only shared one meal together.

His overtime meant that you were asleep by the time he got home.

You had left a clean pair of his pajamas on the end of the bed. He had a habit of just stripping down to his underwear to join you.

You left dinner for him in the fridge and he sat at the dinner table eating it alone.

On the odd occasion, there was time to spend together, the mood was often tense from Coriolanus stress.

He tried not to take his frustration out on you but his answers were often short.

After a long day filled with complaints and issues that could have been easily solved without him, Coriolanus decided that he would not return to his office after supervising drill training and instead remain with you.

He was beyond tired from his day, but it was too early to suggest bed. You lay with him on the couch, propped up by a throw pillow against the arm of the couch while he lay in front of you. He threw your arm around his shoulder and held it tight under his chin.

The TV played a music talent show that neither you nor Coriolanus could care about but the tv only picked up two channels; the news or the entertainment channel that the Hunger Games were shown on. Coriolanus couldn’t bear to hear any more politics for the day so you watched people dressed in irregular costumes perform ballads out of their range.

His eyes droop as he fights the upcoming sleep. It was the first time since the fight with Edmund that he got you to sit down. The little he was here you spent avoiding him. For the first few days, he was angry too and avoidance stopped the fight he wanted to have with you.

But a week had passed and his temper cooled.

You were with him now. Playing housewife to the Commander.

He felt better now that he was coming home to something, rather than just the cold. When he looked in the fridge there was food for him. His clothes were washed and prepared for him. His bed was warm at night. He made him feel less homesick.

The talk from the TV turned from the judges to Lucky the presenter.

“Now ladies and gentlemen. We have a surprise for you tonight. We have a certain special guest gracing us. And we have given him the power to save one of your favorites from elimination! Mr Augustus Bloom won’t you please come out!”

Coriolanus shot up from your hold to watch him.

Augustus Bloom walked on screen wearing an expensive suit. His brown hair was slicked back and a small gold earring dangled from his ear.

The crowd cheered for him.

Coriolanus was stuck in District 12 dealing with half-wits and scum, while Augustus was charming the Capitol on live tv.

He shakes hands with Lucky.

“Mr. Bloom, a privilege to have you here tonight!”

“A privilege to be here amongst you and away from my office.”

Lucky turns to the crowd and laughs.

“Look at you. You good-looking man! You should be out on the town, breaking hearts!”

Augustus laughs along with the crowd.

“I am too busy preparing my business for when I am president of Panem. I’ll worry about women after that.”

Coriolanus clenches his fist.

“Oh,” Lucky turned serious to the crowd, “I think Coriolanus Snow might have something to say about that!”

The crowd murmurs amongst themselves giving Coriolanus an air of confidence.

A picture from his Academy days flashes up on the screen, you look at it with curiosity. He was once a young boy with soft curls, he now sat nearly unrecognizable.

“He’s looking like a strong contender. Isn’t he handsome ladies!” He points out to the crowd, “And some gentleman.”

Augustus had the wind knocked out of his sail. He fidgeted on stage and took a step back almost as if he was going to run away. Dr. Gaul's criticism ran through Coriolanus’ head, “a soft-bellied rich boy, not fit for the presidency.”

Now the whole audience knew it too.

“Snow isn’t here” he gritted through a smile. He wasn’t going down with a fight.

“No. He’s in District 12, keeping us here in the Capitol safe. A round of applause for Commander Snow!”

The crowd cheered causing Coriolanus to smile.

“So am I!” Augustus interrupted like a child.

“Yes, right. I am sure one day you will!” Lucky claps him on the back and returns to the audience with an excited demeanor.

“But of course, that’s a while yet! We are wishing our President Ravenstill all the good health in the world. Now let’s get on with the show!”

Coriolanus switches the TV off and rests his arms on his knees. He couldn’t help but smile at Augustus' national failure. He made Coriolanus look so strong, so mysterious, and focused. He would send Lucky a fruit basket in thanks tomorrow. He would also send one to Augustus.

“You had curls.” The young boyish figure had shocked you.

“Yes,” he pats your knee affectionately, “When we are back in the Capitol and I am president of Panem, I’ll grow them back again.”

==================

Coriolanus has the nightmare that night. He woke up with the tune of ‘Hanging Tree’ stuck in his head. The first thing he does is reach out to where you should have been lying only to find the space cold. Panic rushes through him. His feet thump against the floorboards as he runs from the room into the hall. Your sleeping body can be seen on the couch and he instantly relaxes.

His body tells him he should be angry; fists clenched, shoulders up and tense, his face hot. But he couldn’t manage it. His mind was too hazy to comprehend anything but his own panic.

Instead, he sits down on the floor beside you and tries to control his breathing. The tune hums in the back of his mind and he tries to force it out.

“You had the nightmare again?” Your voice halts the tune. He looks over his shoulder at you with wide eyes. You finally saw the resemblance between the schoolboy with the curls.

He gets up and pushes himself on the couch next to you. You feel his hands slide up your back, trying to hold you close but you wiggle free from his grasp.

You would not comfort the man who kidnapped you.

He tried to bring you back down to his chest as you crawl over him but his tired state left room for error.

You tumble down to the floor as you escape.

He sighs disappointed, bringing his hands up to his face.

“Was there something wrong with the bed?” he asks.

“I prefer the couch.” You sit on the ground next to him.

“You prefer the bed built by Edmund.” He spat his name like it was poison.

You look up at him warily, “I never told you that Edmund built my bed.”

Coriolanus is silent for a minute, he sucks his teeth and sits up.

“You didn’t have to. The wood from your door and bed match.’’

He feels settled as you sit by his feet. The panic subsides, but his anger bubbles up from it.

“Can you make me a cup of tea?” he asks.

With him on your bed, you couldn’t go back to sleep anyway so you rose and went to the kitchen to put the kettle on.

He watches you while sitting on the couch. He liked how you moved so comfortably in the space. You were treating it like your home. No hesitation about where things were, you used things liberally.

“What do you dream?” You ask him.

“When I wake up it’s gone,” he lies.

You know he carries it around with him.

“Whatever it is, it scares you.”

The kettle whistles and you pour it over the tea bag.

He worried that he now looks weak in front of you. The man who was supposed to be protecting you was scared of a dream like a child. He could continue with his lie but you already knew.

Instead he tries a half-truth.

“I dream that I am killed like my father was.”

This peaked your interest causing him to sit up straighter under your attention.

“How did he die?”.

He takes the cup from you but you don’t scurry away like you usually do. You stand in front of him eager to listen to him. The attention moved his mouth,

“Here. In District 12. A trap out in the forest during the war. He was a governor”.

“Is that why you wanted to come back?”

“I didn’t want to come back” he admits. He reaches up with his spare hand to lightly touch yours, “But I am glad I did.”

“What did you do?” you feel his thumb brush over the back of your hand, “I mean, to get you sent here?”

He takes a sip of his tea before answering, “I had an enemy in the Capitol. He disliked my father and took it out on my family”.

“He sent you back as Commander?”

“No. He died. Gaul sent me back for my presidential run. It looks better to be serving my country.”

You tear your hand from him, “And when they find out you brought me back to the Capitol. How will that look?”

He places the cup on the floor and stands up to your height.

“I’ll keep you safe, okay?” he presses his forehead against yours, “In the district and in the Capitol”.

“Safe from danger you put me in.”

Coriolanus shakes his head as you pull away from him. “You’re safe. You’ve always been safe.”

He tried to pull you close again but you stretched out your arms to keep him at distance.

“I wanna go home, Coriolanus.”

“Home to Edmund, perhaps?” he bites. His calm and soft features harden.

A shiver shoots up your spine at the mention of Edmund.

“Home to my family. The same as you.”

He sighs, “You won’t be alone in the Capitol as you are here. You just have to put up with it just a little bit longer. We’ll be back home soon”

The Capitol was not your home nor would it ever be.

But you knew anymore talk of home would lead to more talk of Edmund.

“Come on. Let’s go back to bed.” You rip your elbow from his grasp as he walks past you.

“I’m fine on the couch.”

He rubs a hand over his mouth before bending down and picking up his tea cup. He splashes the remains on the couch and hands you the empty cup.

“Enjoy it then.”

—————-

The next day he comes home around lunch time. It catches you by surprise.

“Come on,” he says, nodding his head backwards.

You follow him without a word to the van below where officials stood around. Upon seeing him they take their place. You see Smiley by the passenger side door and he calls out for his Commander.

Coriolanus tell Smiley to take the seat and climbs in the tray of the truck.

He pulls you up into the van amongst the Peacekeepers. He sits on the end of the bench with you between his legs on the floor. Like a seatbelt he keeps you in place by taking a hold on your upper arms and pulling them back up on his knees.

You can feel the glances of his officers but they look away as soon as you try to meet their eyes.

Halfway they try to break the tension with idle chatter.

“Will the recruits be as bad as last year?”

“That’s couldn’t be possible.”

The talk soon turns to anecdotes about their youthful days as Peacekeeper grunts.

None of them try to include Coriolanus in their jests. They all willfully ignored the couple on the end.

You don’t try to talk to him either.

As you pass through the district the people look at the Peacekeeper van causing you to turn your head in embarrassment. You could still feel the harsh judgements from your community as you sat between the Commander's legs. How would you ever rebuild your reputation?

The van stops in front of the tunnel to the train station. The people part in the crowd to let the van through.

Coriolanus releases you to unhook the bolts from the backn of the truck. None of the other Peacekeepers move until he does. He jumps down from the bed of the truck and turns back around to help you down. They all wait until you are down and out of the way before they follow.

It’s busy, too busy for a normal docking of fresh recruits. All of the road and tunnel leading to the train station were overrun by bodies.

District people flood the space, all chatting loudly in a panic. They part as the line of Peacekeepers march through.

Normally on orientation day, the newcomers to District 12 were given a wide berth. People had better things to do then get a glimpse of the faces that would soon be terrorizing them.

You wondered what peaked their excitement today. What had Coriolanus done that both you and the district people had to see?

Coriolanus drags you down the dark tunnel into the light of the train station. The talk quitened but didn’t stop altogether.

You screamed upon seeing the commotion.

Edmund.

He was badly beaten and tied to a sturdy metal pole that kept the roof up. A bulls-eye was spray painted an inch above his head.

Blood soaked his face to the point you almost didn’t recognize him.

Large black bruises covered his exposed skin.

You turn to Coriolanus who was already looking at you and beg him to release Edmund.

“Please, Coriolanus. Let him go.”

“He threw the first punch.”

You knew it had less to do with causing Coriolanus physical harm than it did with damaging his ego and need for control. Your neighbors were shown that the Commander bleeds like any other man.

“He learnt his lesson.” you promise.

“Have you learnt yours?”

Only ten young boys disembark from the train. They were all thin with a badly-shaved buzzcut and carrying a Capitol issued duffle bag.

You wanted to run over to Edmund. Protect him somehow. But you couldn’t, it was your protection that got him here in the first place.

“Gentlemen, welcome to District 12.”

Coriolanus stood by your side while another officer went in front of the line of boys.

“This is Edmund Flare,” he gestures to Edmund at the post, “A known rebel sympathizer, and a troubled citizen of District 12.”

Another Peacekeeper runs over and passes the man a gun. You grab Coriolanus' arm in protest.

“More likely than not, you will have to shoot Edmund one day in service of your country. We figured today we would give you the opportunity to save yourself the trouble in the future.”

The first young boy is given the gun.

“You get one shot before you have to wait for that day to naturally come.’’

Edmund holds his head up high to show he is not afraid. But you were. You were terrified. A strong urge to go over and rip the gun out of the young boys hands presented itself but you knew you would be pulled back before you could even stand close enough to touch him,

The boy checks the gun for the trigger, earning a laugh from everyone but you and Coriolanus.

Eventually he finds it, and he takes aim.

The shot misses by a mile.

“Coriolanus please.” He remains emotionless, watching the scene before him. He stood as if it was a street performance, hands clasped behind his back and perfect posture to get a good view.

“Wait! Wait!” you call out but the men continue. Another boy steps up and takes the gun.

He takes less time to examine the gun before firing a shot. Edmund flinches as it wizzes past his shoulder.

‘‘Coriolanus! Stop this. Just please stop, untie hi-”

The next shot is fired causing you to spin around to ensure that Edmund was still standing. He was tall and stupidly proud.

“I’ll never forgive you if one of them hurt him!” you threaten but it doesn’t even earn you a glance.

“Do you love him?”

“No” you answered firmly and fast, “No, Coriolanus. Please stop.”

Another shot is taken.

“Because if you loved him now would be the time to tell me, because I would hate to break apart lovers.”

The third shot lands next to Edmunds boot. You felt physically sick watching the scene. Your legs shook and would soon give way.

The men start to whoop and cheer the young recruits on. It gives the next young boy confidence to take a step closer to take his shot but it misses all the same.

You can’t tear your eyes off Edmund as the next recruit takes aim. They look each other in the eyes. Never spoken a word and already enemies.

The shot is taken but wizzes past Edmunds head.

You shake your head no. You knew telling him that you loved Edmund would sign his death certificate.

“He’s my brother's friend, Coriolanus. We grew up together.”

The next shot hit the pole but not the target, causing you to yelp.

Loud cheering snapped you out of your daze. Begging would get you nowhere.

Instead you take his shoulders into your arms and turn him towards you.

“He looked after me before you. I would have been dead long before you got to me if it wasn’t for him”.

Coriolanus throws his eyes back to Edmund which was not the desired effect.

You change positions, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling his attention back down to you.

“I didn’t tell him that you’d taken his role. The other night he was just trying to protect me as you would’ve.”

He finally looks down at you.

“Please, don’t kill him, Coriolanus. I could never forgive myself.” Your voice begins to shake. You were so nervous for Edmunds safety. Your knees buckled and tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

He takes the side of your face into his hands.

“Do you love him?”

You shake your head feverishly, “No, Coriolanus.”

“Do you love him?” You feel his fingers tighten on your face.

“Yes.” you admit.

“Do you love me?”

Through gritted teeth a ‘yes’ resounds.

“More than him?”

A shot whizzed into the crowd as the new recruit lost control of the gun and Coriolanus pulled his body over yours.

The officers scold the boy. Taking the waving gun away. The shot landed into the train station wall but it was a close call for those standing in front of it.

He removes your arms from him and you watch him walk over to the officer holding the gun.

He takes it and aims at Edmund who stood straight and tall.

You shrink as the gun fires. Unable to look, you cover your face with your hands.

The cheering made no impact on your confidence. You couldn’t hear Edmund from their excitement. So you reluctantly open your eyes to see him still standing.

The bullet had made it straight to the middle of the painted target.

Coriolanus stood taking aim still, as if he was still considering firing another shot.

Edmund stared back, almost daring him.

“Commander.” you call. You don’t call him by his name, not in front of people.

Coriolanus lowers the gun but keeps his eyes on Edmund as he speaks,

“Load them up and head back to the compound.” he passes the gun to the closest officer and turns back to where you stood.

“Cut him loose.” he calls back.

When he tosses his arm around you and pulls you back to the truck, you turn back to see Edmund surrounded by Peacekeepers.

People mummer as you walk past but your ears buzzed too loudly to hear a word.

You felt so weak as you walked. You thought you were going to collapse before you could make it to the van. But with Coriolanus’s strong hold on you, you made it back.

He climbs in first and reaches down to pull you up. He sits you on his knee instead of on the ground and you watch as the peacekeepers, old and new, return to the truck.

You don’t even have it in you to feel embarrassed as eyes locked into you.

No one said anything to Coriolanus on the way back.

As soon as the truck opens back in the compound, you are the first to jump out. You hear Coriolanus footsteps as he followed you back to the apartment.

You immediately take a seat at the kitchen table and Coriolanus gets you a cup of water. You stare at it in front of you.

“Edmund died today, as far as you are concerned.”

Closing your eyes to the image of him, you nod your head.

He could hear Coriolanus moving around the apartment but you couldn’t care what he was doing.

When he slams something down in front of you, you open your eyes to see a piece of paper and a pen.

“I want you to write to your brother and tell him about us.”

You couldn’t. Your brother was hot headed, and powerless. He would cause only problems for himself trying to get back.

“What would be the point? He is over in District 8.”

“My family are in the Capitol, yet they know about you.”

Shock strikes you knowing that his family knew of Coriolanus’s actions.

“Write to him,” he pushes, “tell him that we are together. How you feel.”

You pen a half-hearted letter about how you met a man. Coriolanus, you called him, Not Commander Snow. You tell him how you miss him, and that your mother is okay. That Coriolanus is ensuring that your basic needs are met. Don’t worry, you tell him, you’re perfectly safe.

Coriolanus reads it after you are done before folding it and placing it in his pocket.

He slides another piece of paper over in front of you.

“Now write to Tigris and my grandmother. Tigris suggested it would make you feel better, already knowing someone in the Capitol.”

You pick up the pen and write again, but your mind remains on the image of Edmund being used as target practice. You make yourself a promise that you would never meet his cousin or his grandmother. Their letters are as close as they will get before you could escape.

—------

Coriolanus amped up his work schedule even more. Eager to break free from his responsibilities and solve the mystery of Lucy Gray.

You were left alone at night which was preferable to his company but you felt yourself going crazy with only your own company.

You tried to keep a routine to fill the day. It was mostly taken up by cleaning tasks.

After dinner you would wash and dry the dishes, wipe the countertops and table and sweep and mop the floor. Then you would retire to the living room with your sewing or polishing work until it was time for bed.

There is a quiet tapping on the window disturbing you from securing the buttons on Coriolanus’s shirt.

No fear ran through you wondering who it could be. They couldn’t get in to harm you anyway. So you peer out from the window.

“Edmund” you gasp.

His left eye was blackened, a large bruise formed around the bloodshot vessels. A purple bruise marked his cheek and there was a cut on his right eyebrow.

“How did you get in?”

He hold a pair of wire cutters up to the window.

“Are you okay? God I was so worried about you.”

“Ah,” Edmund smiles and replaces the wire cutters with a small knife from his pocket, “Takes more than that.”

“What are you doing?” you hiss. If Coriolanus found him, there was no way Edmund would escape death a second time.

“Getting you out of here.”

“You can’t be here. He’ll be home soon.”

“I know. I’ve been here every night since i’ve been well enough. I told you, you’re not alone.”

“The Peacekeepers-’’

“There’s a fifteen minute window where this section is blind.” The lock wiggles but resists being opened under pressure, “And he just entered the infantry to wish our poor peacekeepers a speedy recovery. We have time.”

The door was determined to chew most of it up, however.

“Edmund, what did he do to you?” his face was swollen from the bruising, and you could see large black and purple spots peeking out from under his shirt.

“The day after he took you, he sent Peacekeepers to my home. They took me back to the compound and showed me some ‘hospitality’”.

“Edmund,I am so sorry,” you begin to cry, “I never should have taken the oat bars to the jail.”

You remembered the day at the market that set off the chain of events.

You remember seeing the man, he stood out amongst the crowd. Dirty, torn clothes. An arm missing, no doubt from the district's mining work. There wasn’t much work for men outside of it.

A sense of pity overwhelmed you, so when he swiped a loaf of bread off the table, you looked the other way. Unfortunately a watchful Peacekeeper did not.

The man's plea echoed through your mind as he was taken away; “Please, I am so hungry.”

It led you to making the oat bars not only for him, but for all the others punished for their hunger.

You remembered a rumor that there was a hole at the west end of the jail for the Peacekeepers to sneak out from, and women of the night to sneak in. You were surprised to find out it was actually true.

“This is not your fault, okay. I am going to get you outta here, and we’ll go to the mountains okay? Where it’s safe. Like planned.”

You nod your head.

The door jingles as Edmund tries to force it open with his knife. It doesn’t bulge.

“Edmund, my mother, is she okay?”

“She’s okay. She’s already up the mountains.”

“How? She could barely walk?”

“I carried her.”

The guilt came crashing down on you. Edmund had his own family to look after. They wouldn’t survive without him.

“Edmund. Stop. I can get the key,” you weren’t sure if you actually could, “You need to go. Just tell me where you cut the hole.”

He stops trying to wedge the door with the knife so you could hear him clearly.

“There’s three big bins out by the back,” he points to the direction, “I cut a hole behind the middle one. It’ll take you to the south forest. I’ll wait there.”

“No,” you interject, “No. Wait for me in the mountains.”

He rolls his eyes and picks up his work of jamming his knife in the door.

“You’ll never make it up the mountain by yourself.”

“At home then! Just stay away from here.”

The plea was for both you and him.

“You can get the key and get out?” He asks in a serious tone, looking at you once more.

“Yes.” you confirm.

He sighs as he pockets his knife, “When?”

The Commander kept his keys by the night stand. You think you could remember which one opened the door.

“Soon.”

“A week. I’ll give you a week before I come back with something stronger.”

You nod your head in agreement.

“Thank you, Edmund.”

“You’re my girl.” he remarks as it was an obvious motivation for his work.

You shiver at his words.

————

You don’t sleep well at night so you have taken to having naps while Coriolanus is at work. He is home more often now. He had got ahead of a considerable amount of work which meant nights were spent together.

Most nights he would take you walking around the compound for fresh air after dinner. You tried to memorize the key he used to unlock the door but there were so many that all looked the same. You wondered how he even knew.

He is anxious now that he found out you were sleeping in the living room and has taken to chaining you together as you slept. He cuffed one of his wrists and one of yours, making sleep impossible as he basically slept on top of you now.

It was only three days after Edmunds promise, that you woke from your nap with the sight of Coriolanus packing your clothes into a bag.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

Was he moving you to your own apartment?

He drops the bag and comes over to sit next to you on the bed.

“Hey,” he greets “You need to get up now. We are going to go away for the weekend.”

You sit up away from him, “Where are we going?”

Vacations were not a thing in District 12.

“The Capitol?” you guessed.

“No, not the Capitol.”

You sigh in relief. Still he had not answered your question.

“Where then?”

He gets up from the bed and zips the bag up.

“Do you not trust me?”

You get up from the bed to see he had laid a dress on the end of the bed for you.

‘‘I just want to know where we are going.”

“You took me to a special place, and now I want to take you somewhere, okay?”

Throwing the duffle bag filled with spare clothes for you and him, over his shoulder he exits the room.

You change and his way out to the living room. There would be no point in fighting. You were going to find out where he was taking you at some point.

The living room was empty, but the door swung wide.

With the door being left open for you, you took the stairs down to where Coriolanus was loading the back of a patrolling truck.

You saw a small cooler of food, one of the old pans, bedding and pillows, a small bag of toiletries and the clothes bag. He had packed in a hurry. The bags were thrown in without care. They were far apart from each other and more items than not were upside down.

“We’re not coming back?” you ask.

“We’ll stay a night or two.” Or however long it takes to find Lucy Gray’s body.

He holds open the door and you follow his silent command to get in. You spot the rifle tucked between the seat and the console. It makes you rethink your decision of complacency.

“My special place didn’t need a gun.”

He takes your arm and gently pushes you forward into the car, but you tug back against him.

“It’s nothing. Just a precaution.”

He gently pushes you again to move.

“Get in.” he barks.

“No.”

He takes a harsh grip this time on your arm and leads you back to the cage where Peacekeepers kept people who disturbed the peace.

He pushed you into the small space amongst the bags.

It was big enough that you could sit with your back against the wall but it would only leave an inch of space between your head and the roof. The back was caged in so the rebels couldn’t reach the officers in front, and the length was long enough to fit three or four rebels at one time. Albeit a tad uncomfortably.

You bang on the metal divide as he slams the door shut and begins to drive.

“Coriolanus, you don’t have to do this. I could just go home.”

He drives through the middle of the district to the out of bounds forest, where Peacekeepers were waiting armed and ready by the electric fence line. They buzz the parting gate open and seal it shut again once the car passes.

Past the gate, it was just you and him. What would he want to take you to a secluded forest for. A million reasons run through your mind and they all end with you dead.

“How are you doing back there?” he calls from the front. The car as it powers through the harsh conditions almost drowns him out.

“Where are you taking me?” you demand to know, “What’s out past the boundary line that you set up?”

Was he hiding something out there? Was that the reason he set up the fence? Not to keep people contained but to hide something.

“There’s a cabin I know of. There’s a lake too. I think you’ll like it.”

You watch from the front window, looking out for landmarks that could lead you back home. The dark clouds that roll fourth threaten to destroy anything you can remember.

The path to the cabin is ingrained in his mind since he walked back a different man. He weaved through the gaps in the forest without looking at his father’s compass.

“Did Lucy Gray like it?”

He ignores your comment and you don’t speak again.

—---

When you reach the cabin it is old and run down. Vines cover the walls of the house, patching up the rotten wood.

Coriolanus seemed nervous to be there. His hand flexes as it reaches for you.

The door had been sealed shut with moisture and it took three hard shoulder charges from Coriolanus to get it open. He invites you in with a hand on your shoulder, shutting the door behind you before retaking your hand in his.

You could smell the dust as you stood in the small living room. The cabin was small and colorless. Mostly everything was made from wood. From the small kitchen table and chairs to the bed you could see in the adjacent room. The only thing that was metal was an old fire stove, and a few decorative pieces.

Leaves had blown in from holes in the roof scattering the floor. The place looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. You would have thought the place was abandoned since its creation if there weren’t bags upon the floor. Despite its appearance, someone had been here before you and Coriolanus.

He lets go of you to rush over to the bags. He unzips one and pulls out a colorful dress. The way he lets out a laughy breath sends shivers down your spine.

“Lucy Gray’s?” you ask but you already know the answer. He had taken her here to kill her, maybe under the guise of running away together, and now he has taken you here to kill you.

Coriolanus shrugs as if he doesn’t know and shoves the dress back in the bag.

“Whoever it belongs to is long gone.”

He continues to look through the bags for anything missing while you glance at the door.

You think about making a run for it. Surely you would have a better chance in the forest then against him. You feel your feet slowly turning in the direction of the door when his speaking interrupts you.

“I’ll take this junk outside.” he gathers the bags, slinging one over his shoulder and carrying the other two in his hands.

You don’t speak as he comes over to you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, noticing your uptight demeanor.

“Fine. You?” Was he being driven to a quiet rage with thoughts of Lucy Gray?

“Perfect.”

He places a quick kiss to your lips before carrying the bags outside.

You look at the gun on the floor. If you ran now while he was busy outside it would give you a head start. Surely he would need to come back to get the gun before chasing you. He couldn’t do it with his bare hands.

You could feel his hands around your throat and knew he could.

You bolt through the door and down the old steps but run into him as he comes back up.

He had only taken to throwing the old bags by the side of the house, planning to sink them alongside of the guns in the lake at a later point.

“Whoa” he stops you with his hands, “Where are you going?”

“The bags. To get the bags out of the car.”

He looks out to the forest as if he had heard something.

“Get back inside. I’ll get them.”

You watch him from the window bring the items in. He was cautious and kept glancing at the forest.

You did not want to end up a ghost among the forest with Lucy Gray. You wanted to live. To go up to the mountains with Edmund and be shielded in his arms.

As Coriolanus finished his second trip with the bags, he used an old chair still there and pinned it under the door handle to prevent it from opening.

You promised yourself that you would make it to the mountains. Coriolanus would not kill you and bury your body next to Lucy Gray.

You felt as if you were in the Hunger Games.

You were going to be the victor.

Coriolanus looked unbothered by these thoughts as he tried to light a fire in the old stove.

He gets it going and as he puts his matches back in, he notices you still in a tense form.

“It’s only for tonight. We’ll go home tomorrow afternoon.”

“Will we?” you spat. “Why are we here anyway?”

‘To kill me. Say it, you coward’, you thought.

“It’s quiet,’’ he suggests, “Some place quiet where we can be alone.”

“Is this where you took Lucy Gray?”

He slams a pan down on top of the hot surface.

“I didn’t know Lucy Gray. I’ve told you.” He opens a pack of sausages and throws them down without care before tossing the leftover garlic potatoes you cooked the night before in as well.

“Did you bury her out here?” you push.

He ignores you. Pushing around a sausage with the knife he used to cut open the packet.

“Are you going to bury me out here?”

“I have never hurt you.”

“You starved me, hit me, nearly killed my mother. You call that not hurting me?”

You felt your blood boiling. It was one thing to make your life a living hell, it was another to deny he did it.

He drops the knife and turns to face you.

“Have you starved under me? Has your mother?” he hits his chest with his next words, “You eat because of me. You sleep in a bed that I paid for. I provide for you. Me.”

He stalks towards you causing you to stumble back. You hit a wall but feel a rusted piece of metal under your fingertips. You grab it from the desk but keep it low from his sight.

“Everything has happened to you because you strayed, and you want me to apologize for it?”

“I want you to admit to what you did.” What you are about to do, so I don’t feel guilty.

He grabs hold of the bar and pulls it from you.

“I did not kill Lucy Gray,” he said earnestly. But he wished he had.

He throws the rusted object across the room and it lands with a heavy clang.

“And I am not going to kill you. You don’t think you’ve done enough already to get yourself hanged? I protected you from that. Not Edmund.”

Your breath hitches as you hear his name.

The smell of burning and sounds of angry popping infiltrates the room. Coriolanus leaves you to deal with it. The sausages were charred on one side but raw on the other. After a quick flip, Coriolanus returned his attention to you.

“Sit on the ground, by my boots.’’

You eye your weapon on the other side of the room but he was stronger, faster, you would never get it and wield it in time. Night time would be the best chance of escape. The cabin had no lock on it, and you were sure you could make it to the mountains from here. But first you had to get Coriolanus off his guard. He still carried his cuffs with him. Escape would be impossible if you were locked in place.

So you sit on the ground and wrap yourself around his leg as he cooks.

He liked the feeling of you anchoring him. It made him feel secure.

He cooks in silence, tossing the items in the pan so they wouldn’t burn. Cutting a sausage in half, he could see it was done, but he had forgotten plates.

Instead he takes the pan off the stove and carefully sits down across from you on the floor. The pan sizzles as it is placed between you on the floor. It didn’t matter if it burnt the wooden floor. The cabin was so run down, it hardly made a difference. Coriolanus pokes a potato with his knife and brings it up to you.

He wouldn’t give you the knife after the pipe incident. You bite the hot potato off and Coriolanus had his turn.

You could tell the rocky temper was still floating around in him. He had calmed but his face still spoke of his annoyance. His necklace overlaid his shirt, your ring called out to you.

“Give me your dog tag.”

“What?” he responds.

“If you’re not going to kill me, then let me wear your necklace. I’ll give it back at the compound, but if you do kill me, you’ll be forced to wear your guilt around your neck.”

You wanted your ring back before you left him forever.

“I am not going to kill you.” he sighs, taking a bite of sausage.

“Then give me the necklace.”

You hold your hand out for it, which Coriolanus eyes.

Dropping the knife into the pan, he maneuvers the tag of his neck, bypassing your hand and dropping it over your head.

You felt the ring scratch you as it landed.

“Happy now? Will you stop acting crazy?”

You hold the pendants in your hand and nod in agreement

The rest of the night was uneventful. He sets up lamps as it darkens and teaches you a card game. You lost every round, even the ones he tried to let you win. It was a strategy game and you didn’t have the head for it.

The game only lasted an hour before you were helping Coriolanus set up the bed. He had brought along air beds from the Capitol that inflated and deflated by a push of a button. He pushes them together and you made a bed out of the queen sized bedwear from the apartment.

As he went to sleep with you wrapped safely in his arm, he thought about how he was going to get you to stay inside while he went searching the woods.

He couldn’t tell you what he was looking for or who he was looking for. Nor could he take you with him under the guise of a leisurely walk. If Lucy Gray was out there he didn’t want you anywhere near her. He knew there were four more other cabins in these woods. Just because she hadn’t come back for her mother’s dress, didn’t mean she wasn’t out there. If anything, if she was alive it would be the last place she went back to. She was smart, she would have known that Coriolanus would one day come back to find the mystery of Lucy Gray. She was probably trying to throw him off her scent.

You wiggle, pulling the blanket higher over you and it brings his attention closer to home.

Maybe he could lock you in the back of the car while he searched.

He decided he was going to do something nice for you after this. For putting you through it all. Get your measurements and commission Tigris for a new dress, perhaps. Or buy you a necklace of your own.

Maybe both. He had the money for it for the first time in his life. And he did owe you an apology and a thank you for being here with him tonight.

He could see how scared you were thinking that your protector was turning against you. After yesterday, he perhaps should have waited a day or two before taking you away. He at least should have been more gentle in the approach, so you didn’t think he would harm you for his anger towards Edmund.

Coriolanus understood him in a way that saved him from being shot. He was just looking out for you, the same way Coriolanus would have. He and Edmund both wanted to take care of you but your heart only had place for one. And that spot rightfully, and wholly belonged to Coriolanus Snow. Edmund did his job of keeping you alive for Coriolanus and he was rewarded when the bullet went behind him and not into his skull. But now it was Coriolanus’s turn and both Edmund and you needed to learn that.

Coriolanus mind slowed as you stilled beneath him.

You will yourself to be still. You count your breaths out to mime sleeping. Coriolanus’s hold on your shoulder falls as he sleeps but you don’t make a move just yet. Half-scared that he would wake when you got up.

It wasn’t until it started to pour rain that you decided to stop stalling and make a move.

Carefully you rose, and the chains of his arms fell off you. The rain pelting down covered the sound of the air mattress as you moved off it.

The rain, as it turns out, was a blessing and not a punishment.

You had left your boots and dress next to you for easy access. Stripping yourself of your nightdress, you quickly change and tie up your boots.

Coriolanus had taken to sleeping in his underpants, now that you weren’t in a position to indirectly persuade him to dress in his nightwear. He liked the feeling of skin to skin with you but you beg him to keep his t-shirt on. You hated the feeling of his skin pressed against yours. He obliged.

Your boots squeak against the old floor boards as you walk across it to the door. Causing you to wince at every step, but you do manage to reach the door without waking him.

You try to gently tug the chair from under the door but it was jammed. Turning back to see him still sleeping, you tug a bit harder, but only the door knob jiggles. You cringe as he moves slightly on his back. You would have a harder time escaping the compound than here. There were no armed guards or sniffing dogs. Just you and him, and you had a head start. You had to pluck up the courage now.

The chair scraps against the floor but you manage to get it free.

There is a second where nothing moves or makes sound. You almost think you got away scot-free.

“What are you doing?” You hear his voice and turn to see him sitting up dazed.

Your answer is the throwing open of the door and running out. You hear him jump up as you do.

He yanks on his Commander’s pants and boots, leaving the laces untied.

It was too late by the time he got out you were nowhere to be seen.

He felt his heart jump from his chest. This couldn’t be happening. It was just a bad dream that he would wake from. But the icy water pouring down on him told him that it was true. You had betrayed him like Lucy Gray.

Lucy Gray. What if she was out in the woods where you ran? She was the victor of the hunger games, you were a lost lamb. You wouldn’t stand a chance against her. She would tear you to shreds if she thought she could get back at Coriolanus.

He thinks about returning to the cabin and retrieving his gun but you were already too far out of reach.

He yells out for you.

The rain poured down soaking you to the bone, but covered your tracks as you ran.

“Y/N!” he screams. You battle the rain as you ran through the forest. Pushing yourself to go faster.

“Hey, it’s dangerous out here. Lets go back to the cabin. Talk about this.”

His wild eyes scan the area for any sign of movement. The rain hindered his vision but he could hear the faint sound of branches snapping under your foot.

“Do you honestly think you can run from me? That I won’t find you?”

You don’t answer and he screams out some more

“Y/N! Come out now! This isn’t funny!”

You stumble as your dress caught on a tree, it grazes your arm as you pull, leaving a nasty cut.

He screams loudly out of frustration. The rain seemed to slow down to a trickle as he did, as if it was also scared.

“You stupid, little girl” you can hear him as he walks, he was catching up. You couldn’t outrun him so you slowed your pace, focusing your efforts on hiding.

“When I catch you…” he doesn’t finish his sentence.

You press yourself against the tree. Your arm stung from the cut and your lungs burned from your efforts.

“Hey, who do you think will reach your mother first?” he taunts.

You knew it wouldn’t be him. She was safe in the mountains and soon you would be too.

“Y/N. That’s enough.”

You slink to the next tree and focus on quieting your breathing. His footsteps got louder as he gained ground.

“Y/N, I said that’s enough!” He picks up a large tree branch and walks forward with it.

“You’re going to get lost in the forest. There’s worse things than me out there.”

He imagined you wandering, lost amongst the trees. Lucy Gray, savage and wild, following you. You wouldn’t see her as a threat when she introduced herself. You were too sweet. You would willingly follow her back to wherever she was hiding and by the time you sense the danger of her, it would be too late.

He needed to find you. To make sure you were alright. That Lucy Gray hadn’t got her hands on the only pure thing in his life.

“Look it’s not too late. We can just forget this happened. Go back to the compound.” he offers but you knew it wasn’t true.

You hold your brother's ring in your hand and make an attempt to move forward.

You made it to the next tree but hear Coriolanus stop walking.

With the rain slowing, it was harder not to make a noise.

A loud banging spooked you as he threw the wood against the tree you were hiding behind. You knew you should have stayed still, he was only testing, but your feet took off before your mind could command them not too.

He felt better seeing you run off. You ran uninjured and with no one following you.

He takes off after you, determined not to lose sight again.

Both of you run through the forest and rain. You felt as though he might eat you alive if he caught you, but he was faster. All too soon, you feel hands on your waist, pulling you down. You scream as you sink into the mud, trashing under his weight.

He sits on your thighs and keeps your hands pinned against the dirt floor.

“What were you thinking?” He spat. You had never seen him look so upset. His face scrunched, eyebrows furrowed, his eyes looked down at you in a crazy panic.

“How could you be so stupid?”

You toss under him, screaming at him to release you.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?”

You kick your feet in an attempt to buck him off, but he was too heavy.

“Shut up,” he grabs your jaw and stills it in his direction, “You stupid, stubborn, fool of a girl. What was your plan? Huh? Wander around the forest and hope you make it back to District 12?”

You don’t answer and he tightens his hold.

“It was foolish. What if something got you in the forest?’’

What if Lucy Gray got you in the forest.

“Do you have any idea what that would have done to me?”

“I don’t care,” you cry.

“You don’t care?” he says, astonished.

He sits back off you and pulls you up by your arms.

“When you were hungry, I cared.” he pulled you along back to the cabin.

“When you didn’t have money for rent, I cared.” You wriggle your arm, but his hold was too tight.

“Clothes for the winter, medicine for your mother. I cared. And what do I get for it?”

You latch yourself onto a tree. It grounds you as he tries to tug you off it.

“All I ever wanted from you was for you to care.”

He yanks you off the tree and shoves you forward.

“You would think after everything, I would be entitled to it.”

“Coriolanus, please let go of me.” you buck against him.

He tightens his hold, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the ground.

He throws you across the floor as you reenter the cabin, going to get his cuffs from his bag. You scramble away from him as he gets closer but he stands over you, trapping your wrist in the cuff and hooking it around the leg of the oven and then trapping your wrists.

He stood back over you.

“Look at you,” he spat, “You wouldn’t have lasted the night out there.”

The cut on your arm bleed down, your hair was tangled with twigs and mud. You looked pitiful.

“Let me go, Coriolanus. I won’t tell anyone.”

He lowers himself down to the ground, placing his knees either side of you. He places the weight of him on your legs. You hated the feeling, as now you were fully immobilized.

He speaks slowly and dangerously with your face in his hands.

“If you ever try to leave me again, there will be nothing you could do that would save Edmund”.

Do you understand?”

You nod, but it seemed to anger him.

“I asked if you understood,” he yells.

“Yes. Yes. I understand.”

“How stupid could you be? So worried about me killing you, you decide to do it yourself.”

“I wasn’t thinking,” you just wanted him to get off you. His weight was crushing.

“I doubt you’ve ever thought something useful in your life. Use to everybody else doing it for you.”

His hands tangle in your hair forcing you to keep still.

“I’ll do your thinking for you from now on. Your next independent thought, I’ll smash from your skull, understand?”

“Yes.” you cry. The night proved too much for you. The hope of getting away now crushed under his foot.

Your chest heaves with sobs. The panic of being a sitting duck waiting to be killed courses through you, it was a choking sensation.

He takes his wet form off of you and towards the door.

The night was getting to him too. He felt as if history was repeating itself. Back in the forest with little control.

He goes to the side of the house where the bags layed and stuffed them with as many heavy rocks as he could find.

They were heavy as he picked them back up and takes the old boat out to the middle of the lake. The bags sink easily with the rocks, and join the guns at the bottom. His past was officially buried. He now only had the future to look forward to. A future with him as President of Panem, and you by his side.

He rows the boat back to shore. The rain soaked him again and his shirt clung uncomfortably on his skin. It sticks the cold to his chest and his mind floats back to you inside. You were sure to catch a cold if he didn’t move fast.

Entering the house, he could see he was correct from the way your body shivered.

Wiping off the water from his face with his soaked shirt, he goes to his bag and pulls out a fresh shirt for himself. He could still hear you crying as he changed into dry shirt and underpants.

He takes one of his long sleeve off-duty button ups and a towel he wanted to be used from swimming in the lake and brings them over to you.

He had brought you a spare change of clothes but after tonight he felt like he needed the extra security and you needed a extra reminder.

You flinch as he drops down on his knees.

“I am going to uncuff you so you can change.”

You sniffle and he takes it as confirmation to move. With your hands unlocked, you battle with Coriolanus over your clothes. He grasps the end of your dress, beginning to hike it up but you push down the fabric.

“I can-” you manage.

“I do the thinking for you, remember.”

You don’t fight as he yanks the wet dress over you, throwing it behind him carelessly. He keeps his eyes as forward as he can as he slides the sleeves up your arms. Only looking down as he does up the buttons. It was oddly gentlemanly and you wonder if he did it for his sake or yours.

“Stop,” you beg, as you feel his fingers hook over the elastic of your underwear. He doesn’t, going as far as to help you put on a fresh pair. He cuffs you once more to the oven before bringing one of the blankets and pillows back over.

He lays the blanket over you without a word and props the pillow under your head before returning to makeshift bed.

He lays on his side away from you, but you gather he doesn’t sleep, as an hour or so later he brings his pillow and blanket and curls up against your side.

He gets his rest, but you are left in a state of shock that hinders your sleep.

————-

Early the next morning you woke from the sound of Coriolanus stomping in the kitchen. He was eating beef jerky for breakfast. You wake with the sight of him leaning back against the wood counter, towards you. You try to sit up as much as you can while being tied down.

Looking at the food, your stomach grumbles.

“Hungry?” he asks.

You nod in hope that mercy would be given to you.

None was.

“Imagine how hungry you would be lost in the woods.”

“I would have made it back.” you contend.

He strips off another piece as he answers, “You would be dead if I didn’t find you.”

He throws the packet on the counter. It sits unbalanced on the side.

“Are we going home?” You saw the bags were neatly packed in a pile and you thought calling the compound ‘home’ might earn you some beef jerky.

“I have something I have to do. We’ll be back by this afternoon.”

“What do you have to do?”

“None of your business.” he snaps.

The conversation ended as he walks over to the bags and picked up his gun that was resting against them.

You watch him, dressed down in his white t-shirt and army pants, as he swings his rifle over his shoulder.

“I’ll be back soon.” he comments, half way out the door.

He walks through the forest at a slow pace. Careful not to miss the smallest bit of detail.

Retracing the steps of that day, he makes it to where he was bitten by the snake.

Time had overtaken the hunting ground. There was now grass where the earth once was.The branches and trees had healed from the damage done.

He eyes the place where he attempted to shoot Lucy Gray and aims his gun like he did.

He half-expected to see her in the space waiting for him, but it was just ground again. No clues were left for him to find.

There was no rotten smell overtaking his nose. No scrap of clothing left for him to find, or anything to indicate human life had been moving through the forest.

He continues to walk through.

The mockingjays squawk above him. If he was a better shot, he would have taken the time to kill at least some of them. But you would hear the gunfire and panic.

With no sign of Lucy Gray, he continues his way up to the other cabins. He searches each one but they look untouched and run down. The heat of the sun beats down on him as he makes his way back. It was early afternoon by the time he had satisfied himself that Lucy Gray was nowhere in the woods. She could have made it back to District 12, but it was unlikely. He kept tabs on the Covey for months after he got back. He surely would have known if they were hiding her. She must have gone north like planned. He wondered if she made it, or if her body is now one with the earth.

Either way, she was gone and Coriolanus could shake her from his memory.

When he returned back to the cabin, you were busy yanking on your chains.

He presses the point of the gun into your ankle, pinning it against the floor. You don’t try moving under threat. He slides the gun slowly up your leg, over your calf, over your knee, inching up to the middle of your thigh under his shirt. You pulled against your chains, but don't verbally acknowledge you were scared.

“Open your legs wider.” he demands. Instead you squeeze your thighs tighter together.

He pushes the gun with more force against you.

“I am in a very good mood. You would hate to ruin that wouldn’t you?”

Deciding you would, you separate your legs. He nestles himself between you, pulling you closer by your thighs so your legs are past his hips.

Thankfully the gun settles on the floor.

“I think we should talk about last night.”

You shake your head no and he gives you a serious look.

“Every time I give you an inch, you take a mile.”

“I thought you were going to kill me.”

“I have been nothing but patient and kind to you.”

You wanted to laugh at him but forced it down. It was not too late for you to end up dead in the forest.

“I know, Coriolanus. And I am sorry. It’s just no one has ever cared for me like this before”.

He laughs gently at you, “You’re trying at least.”

“It scared me. But if you give me another chance, I promise I won’t disappoint you.”

He lays his body down on yours, keeping his weight off you by planking on his elbows.

“You can have as many chances as it takes.” he promises, softly.

“Just one more.” you return in the same small voice.

He kisses you as if you had earnestly promised to live up to his expectations.

But really what you promised is that you would allow yourself one more chance of escape before he made good on his promise to kill your mother and Edmund. If you lead to their death, then you would follow them shortly after.

---------------------------

NEXT CHAPTER

taglist:

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@mrsjobarnes

@greekyoghurtwithberries

@namelesslosers

@urfavnoirette

@aleemendoza2425-blog

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@jacesvelaryons

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@brooks-lin

@dawnissunnysideup

@astarborntowrite

@someonefromwutheringheights

#coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #tom blyth #dead dove do not eat #commander snow #hunger games

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euphorix-moon · 8 months

Text

Coffee and Crushes

Ellie x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Reader is a loser lesbian for Ellie and Ellie just finds it cute

Wc:1.3k

A/n:had to re-upload cause i made some mistakes, thank you to the person who caught them.i'm kinda embarrassed but this what i get for writing at 2am

You finish prep for opening and lean over the counter, patiently waiting for the customers to enter the cafe. While waiting, your mind wanders to a certain customer. A certain customer that comes every Tuesday and Thursday. A certain customer whose name was Ellie.

A certain customer who you had a crush on.

The first time you had served the woman you had been a mess, stuttering over simple sentences and couldn't even look her in the eyes.After that embarrassing day you had made your coworker Dina serve Ellie every time she would come around to the cafe.Dina likes to make fun of you for not having the guts to go talk to your crush, and you know that you really should.You didn't even know the girl yet, Ellie had been the only thing since you first saw her.

That was three months ago.

So far the only things you knew about Ellie is that she comes twice a week,orders an espresso with 2 chocolate filled croissants, and sits at the table by the window for 2 hours, typing away on her laptop. And every time,you try and “conspicuously” peek at her while you served other customers.

 “It’s Thursday! And you know what that means!” Dina all but yells as she makes her entrance.  “Shut up, Di, I don’t need you patronizing me.”You groaned. You hear Dina laughing at your comment as she walks into the break room.

 “Are you gonna finally talk to her today or are we just gunning for the usual routine?” “Let’s just do what we always do,” You sigh.

Hours pass, and you and Dina are moving back and forth tending to customers.You only briefly think of Ellie every once in a while when you find time for yourself to breathe.Before you knew it looked at your watch and saw that its five minutes to two. That means the "Woman of the Hour"as Dina likes to say would be here soon.

 “It’s almost time,” Dina says in passing,while the both of you were behind the counter

 You were frustrated with yourself. Why couldn’t you just act normal?Just because she was one of the most attractive women you've seen in awhile shouldn't make you act any different towards her. Why couldn’t you just serve the woman her food? It’s not like you would have to actually have to hold a conversation with her .All you had to do was take her order and bring it to her, That's it. Should you go for it this time?

 The bell above the door jingles and you looks up to see Ellie walk in and head straight to her usual table.Your heart races and you starts to feel your whole body heat at the sight of her but, you quickly tried to calm yourself down. "Nope,we are not doing this today" you muttered to yourself.

 “Having that internal debate, again?” Dina asks. “Yup” you dejectedly sigh. “Well, I’m off to go serve the woman of your dreams,” Dina sings.

 You stay in the break room, peeking around the corner to watch the interaction. You see Ellie smile up at Dina and her heart flutters. Ellie's smile is so genuine, you just loves the way her smile makes her look so soft . Her smile was pure sunshine and you were sunburnt.

Dina walks over to Ellie's table and greets her. “Hey, El. You’re right on time.” “Of course I am,” Ellie smiles. “This is one of my favorite spots in the town, wouldn't miss it .”

 “How is your week going?” Dina asks. “Eh, it could be less stressful, but I am living the life of a student so what else is to be expected, right?” Ellie says with a sigh  “You are absolutely right about that. I’ll go grab your food now. ”

 “Wait!” Ellie almost yells. “Um...instead of you brining my food, could you send that other girl who works here?” Ellie ask slightly embarrassed  Dina just blankly stares and then hesitantly asks, “You want the other girl to serve you?”

 “Yeah! I mean, I’ve been coming here for a while and I’ve only been served by her once.” Ellie explains. “I also see her looking at me all the time. What’s her name?” Dina is pleasantly surprised, knowing she can use this to her advantage. Dina tells Ellie your name with no hesitation before speed walking back into the back room

***

“W-what?! No!” you whisper yells. “I’m not ready to face her yet!” “What do you mean you aren’t ready?” Dina shoots back. “You’ve been ogling at her for three months! she asked for you personally! she wants to talk to you!” “I-I don’t think now is the right time! I mean, you said she sees me staring at her.She probably thinks I’m a creep and wants to tell me to knock it off.” “She definitely does not think that. Now get out there and give your woman her food!” Dina says sternly, pushing you out into the dining area

You just stand at the back of the dining room with Ellie's food in your arms. You honestly can’t even believe what is going on. Your brain has both shut down and gone haywire. Although your mind is running at a million miles per second, either way Ellie had to get her food that she paid for. You grip the tray tighter and slowly walking your way through the tables to Ellie.

 Ellie couldn’t be happier when she looked up and sees you. Honestly, Ellie thinks you're really cute and had been coming to the restaurant in hopes of getting to know you. After days and days of revisiting, Ellie started to notice that you weren't going to serve her. From the corner of her eye though, she saw the way the you would always take looks at her. Based off of their first and only conversation, Ellie could only guess that you were shy.

 So Ellie waited. She came to the same cafe as a routine and waited for you to be ready. But in those three months, she came to like you. Ellie watched you just as much as you did to her. She likes how you smile at everyone.She likes how you practically bounced as you walked. Ellie liked how adorable you looked while concentrating on keeping orders straight. At this point Ellie couldn’t wait any longer to talk to you.

 “H-here is your food,miss” you stutter. “We look to be around the same age, you don't have to call me 'miss' call me Ellie.” Ellie chuckles

“Okay then...Here’s your food,Ellie.” “When’s your break?”You look at your watch. “In like two minutes?”

 Ellie offers you to stay and sit with her during your break. At first you wanted to deny the offer but she seemed pretty persistent on you sitting at her table. You were pretty nervous when you first sat down not knowing what to say or do, but those feelings didn't fester for long with Ellie taking the initiative to start the conversations.

Fortunately conversations between you two went surprisingly smooth. You and Ellie found yourselves enraptured in your conversation almost feeling as if you guys were in your own little world. You found yourself learning that you guys had a lot in common and so much more, you never wanted the conversations to end.Everything was going so well you almost forgot that you were on break until your phone alarm when off.

"Damn... I gotta go, it was really nice talking to you.I'm guessing i'll see you next week?"You begin to stand up.

"Wait, before you go i have a question to ask you....Do you like me?" you stood there frozen. "Was it that obvious ? Ellie was laughing at this point " i could feel you looking at me every time i came in here" she calmed herself down finally

“ I think you’re pretty cute too,i'll give you my number and maybe we can meet up sometime” Ellie continues.

Ellie gives you her number and practically skip into the break room to get ready for your shift.When you walk into the room you see Dina already sitting there with a sly grin on her face. "Someone looks excited,how did it go" she says bantering you. You smile practically bouncing around the room.

"She gave me her number!"

A/n: Hope you enjoyed, feedback is appreciated!

#ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #fanfic #tlou #tlou2 #loser lesbian

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cas-skz · 10 months

Text

Back to you (Crumble pt 2.)

Wooyoung x FEM!reader

| non-idol au | drama/romance | 18+!! |

Weeks apart from Wooyoung and San have effected you mentally and physically. Your travel companion has no luck breaking through to you and with all your energy drained, you pass out. What happens after the hospital will change everything.

[writers note]

THANK YOU SO SO FLIPPIN MUCH!!!! I seriously always feel so touched when I get good feed back & responses. It means a lot & I appreciate your support so so much!!!

I hope this pulls at your heart strings just as much as the first

Tag List: @a-teez-4-exo @ppeachyttae @pearltinyy @yujuvly @kiwimash12 @neteyamandloakisfoine @mayblues @miaatiny

Every part of you felt numb. Your body was heavy and heart shattered. The whole event of last night played through your head over and over again, hurting more each time.

You didn’t want it to be real. You didn’t want San and Wooyoung to be gone.

“Wake up. We’re here.” The males voice came from the front seat.

You sat up to look at your surroundings, a small cabin on a lake front with not much else in sight. To most it would be peaceful, but to you it was hell at the moment.

You took Ella from her car seat, holding her in your lap as you sighed quietly. “Guess we’re here.” You told her, exiting the car.

“Where are we?” You asked the male, who was grabbing the bags from the car.

“Somewhere safe.” He simply replied, motioning for you to follow him to the cabin.

You rolled your eyes at his answer, following inside. It was decent enough, a living room with tv, the kitchen was stocked with new pots and pans, and a pile of groceries were stacked on the floor.

You made your way down the hall, glancing in at the bathroom before finding your and Ella’s bags in a room at the end of the hall. You got her freshened up and grabbed a bottle before setting in a crib that had been set up.

You laid on your side on the bed across from the crib, watching as she played with the toys and stuffies Woo had grabbed for her. You couldn’t help but cry again, feeling hopeless and confused.

San and Wooyoung had always kept the business side of things hush hush, but over time you started to pick up on little things. Woo arranged boxing matches where people placed high bets to watch San fight an opponent.

99% of the time San was victorious, in exception for Leeknow. Every few weeks the boys would come home after a loss and chat over how to defeat him the next time. Woo always said the loss left a dent in their wallets.

The knock on the door woke you up. You groaned quietly, not even realizing you had fallen asleep.

“Sorry…she’s been fussing. I can take her if you want.” The male said.

It was only now you realized who had been accompanying you this whole time. “Mingi?”

“Yea..I didn’t think you remembered.” He chuckled, taking a few steps towards the crib.

“No.” You said quickly, “I got her.”

You rushed to your feet to swoop Ella into your arms, hushing her as you dug through one of the bags.

“Sorry.” Mingi said quietly, scratching the back of his head. “I have dinner going. It’ll be ready soon.” He smiled softly before turning and heading back to the kitchen.

You didn’t exactly remember Mingi, but he had been one of your elementary school friends and you thought he’d left town years ago.

Once you found a soother for Ella, you both made your way into the kitchen. You didn’t know how long you’d been asleep, but the cabin looked much cozier than when you arrived.

A small play area had been set up in the living room, which you placed Ella into after giving her a kiss on the forehead.

“Are you hungry?” Mingi asked from the kitchen.

“Uh, no. No thanks. Ella’s probably starving.”

“I made her mashed peas and potatoes. There’s a few pieces of pork chop cooling for her too.”

To your surprise, the food at prepared correctly for her age and was made into a smiley face on a cute dinosaur plate.

“Don’t worry, I know how to not kill a baby. I have a three year old and a handful of nieces and nephews.” Mingi smirked, passing you the plate and a baby spoon.

“Thanks.” You mumbled quietly.

You sat inside Ella’s play area and propped her inside the bumbo seat before feeding her dinner.

“I think she approves.” Mingi said from the kitchen table as he munched down on his own meal.

You ignored his comment, focusing on keeping Ella’s face clean as your thoughts wondered to Woo and San. You couldn’t help but worry and wonder where they were, if they were okay. Not to mention the hurt you felt from then suddenly leaving you.

The day creeped into night and you went along with your normal routine with Ella, bathing her and reading a couple of stories before settling her down in bed with a bottle.

Mingi had made himself comfortable in the smaller bedroom, setting up a little gaming station and some mood lighting. It seemed like he was always making someplace feel like home.

“You still haven’t eaten.”

His deep voice creeped out from his room, you peaked in to see him sitting on a bean bag chair, playing gta on a small tv screen.

“I just don’t feel hungry. I’m fine though.” You smiled softly before turning towards the bathroom. “I’m gonna take a shower. Do you mind listening out for her?”

“No problem at all.”

The hot water washed over your face as you sobbed as quiet as you could. There was a million questions running through your head. Why San would just send you off without explanation. Why they couldn’t go with you. There was no off button to the mess in your head.

As you opened the bathroom door, Mingi gave you a small wave, “She’s snoring. I’m heading to sleep soon.” He stretched out before standing up and heading to the door, leaning onto the side as he started to close it.

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks. Night.”

You tried to comfort yourself with Woo’s shirt, the familiar sent of him brought you mixed emotions, which you tried your best to push aside. At some point you drifted to sleep on your tear stained pillow, thought it was nothing compared to falling asleep in Woo’s arms as he fucked you slowly.

The next few days felt numb. You went through day by day, moment by moment just focusing on Ella. You were a mess. You had barely eaten, barely spoken to Mingi. The only update you had gotten was that Leeknow had thrown a fight and his people were angry with the loss.

You were too exhausted to focus on what was being told to you as Mingi filled you in the latest events.

“I guess it’s almost resolved. There was some sort of confrontation but they ended up actually chatting.”

Your eyes tried to focus on Mingi cleaned dishes, but the room started to spin.

“If all goes well, you should be going home pretty so-”

Your body fell to the ground with a hard thud as you blacked out. The lack of food and hours of crying finally had you hitting a brick wall.

Mingi cursed as a glass dropped from his hand, he ran to your side and patted your face a few times. “Fuck. Come on, wake up.”

He grabbed your glass of water off the table and splashed it on your face, “Y/N.” He tapped your face a little harder as you woke a bit, still very fuzzy and spaced.

You remember being in the car as Mingi drove towards the nearest hospital. Ella was strapped in her seat and you laid fading in and out on the seat next to her.

The beeping of a heart monitor rang in your ears as you came out of unconsciousness, you mumbled to yourself as the nurse greeted you and let you know what was going on.

“We gave you some fluids but you’re going to need to eat before you leave, other than that, you and the baby are overall fine.”

“What?” Your tone was unexpectedly harsher than you expected.

“Well we had to run a blood test just to make sure it was lack of nutrients…I-I’m sorry, if you didn’t know.”

You stared blankly for a moment, “No-“ you paused to look at her, offering a small smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” You laughed quietly as a tear fell down your cheek. “Thank you.”

After following the doctors orders and apologizing to Mingi and Ella for not taking care of your self, you were happily on your way home.

Though your heart ached for Wooyoung more than ever, you couldn’t help but smile down at your stomach.

“I think you should name them Grey.”

“Grey?”

“Yeah. It’s my favorite color - well actually charcole, but that’s a weird name for a kid.”

You shook your head and laughed as the drive continued, filled with small chat and plans to make the best of things.

“By the way” Mingi started as he pulled into the long driveway down to the cabin, he paused and quickly checked his phone before pointing to a car parked near the house. “You have a visitor.”

Your eyes filled with tears at the sight of your brother as the car came to a stop, you rushed out and over to hug him tightly.

“I swear to god if you ever do that again”

“It won’t happen again. Ever.”

“Promise.”

“Promise. We’re going straight.”

San explained how Wooyoung had made a deal with Leeknow’s people to get them out of the game and in exchange they would own and operate a car repair shop.

As San continued to speak, your eyes drifted to the cabin door opening and you took off running towards Wooyoung as he walked out.

Tears were streaming down your face as you leaped into his arms, kissing his lips as deep as you could.

“You came back.” You whispered against his lips, pressing your head against his.

“I’m not going anywhere ever again.”

“Good. Ella and her little brother or sister are gonna need their daddy.”

Woo looked down at you with a look of shock and wonder, which you nodded a few times to confirm what he was thinking.

He wrapped his arms around you again, spinning you around as he kissed your cheek repeatedly.

“Get a room!” San yelled with a laugh.

Woo gave him the finger as he carried you back into the cabin and closed the door behind him.

You laughed in his arms and held onto him until he put you back on the ground, “Go get your daughter.” You laughed, giving him another kiss.

“Our daughter.” He whispered.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #jung wooyoung fanfic #jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung smut #wooyoung x y/n #wooyoung x reader #reader x wooyoung #ateez smut #ateez wooyoung #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #wooyoung x you #wooyoung #jung wooyoung x reader #wooyoung fanfic #kpop fanfic

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lalacliffthorne · 4 months

Text

a party and kisses at midnight - a new years modern!batboys drabble. 🎀🪩

(last one for this year, my lovelies, as a little thank you. I can't even describe how happy you all make my lil heart by adoring these silly little drabbles and this AU as much as I do!! love you all to bits!!! *mwah*)

"Why is it so fucking cooold..." Feyre's teeth were chattering as she hopped up and down on the spot, her breath a white cloud in the air.

"Cause it's winter,", Mor supplied, very helpfully, her voice slightly muffled from where her top half had disappeared into the trunk of her car. I snorted softly, shivering against the harsh cold wind brushing against my legs as I shifted from one foot to the other, clutching the three bottles with glittery booze Mor had handed me against my chest.

"And he really does this every year?" Feyre crunched her nose as she looked up towards the lit windows on the third flow, the star in my window shining in the dark.

"Yeah." Mor resurfaced, hair slightly tousled but triumphantly holding the bottle that had decided to roll into the depths of her trunk after she had taken a rather sharp curve. "Last year, he actually threw the whole thing in his dad's mansion, because he was out of town and Rhys had the sudden urge to be rebellious. It was a huge thing." She frowned. "How did you two miss that; the whole campus didn't talk about anything else for weeks."

I shrugged as she plucked a bottle out of my arms, tightening my freezing fingers. "We both spent Christmas at home, and then at New Years, we holed up in Feyre's apartment. We were in a severe food coma by midnight and didn't get out of bed before the next evening."

Feyre sighed happily, staring dramatically up into the sky. "The good old times."

I snorted and sent her a wide grin. "C'mon, you love the idea of an actual New Years party for a change. Rhys definitely put more effort into food than we did; he ordered some super fancy food and did some stuff himself, he basically spent the whole of yesterday in the kitchen and wouldn't let anyone peak."

"Also the view from the balcony is amazing at midnight!" Mor stretched to close the trunk of her car. "You can see all the fireworks from the neighborhood, and the ones down at the river."

"Why don't we go and see them there?" Feyre pouted.

"Because one, it's gonna be packed with severely drunk people, and two, like you just mentioned,", I climbed onto the sidewalk, bumping into her side and widening my eyes dramatically, "it's coooold!"

Feyre snickered. "Fuck off."

"If it gets too busy; I locked my room so there are no hook ups on my clean sheets, we can hole up in there." I pushed open the front door with my shoulder. The stairwell was warm, and I could hear music vibrating from the third floor.

"Yeah, because your sheets are so innocent." Mor grinned when I tried to kick at her, easily dodging my heel and raising her brows. "From what I've heard, your sheets have seen their fair share of not so clean action -"

"Oh, fuck you,", I growled over Feyre's cackling, pressing my elbow into her back to keep her from tipping over backwards from laughing while trying to fight the heat in my cheeks and the grin pushing onto my face. Mor snickered and blew me a kiss, and I flipped her off as best as possible with my arms full before beginning to push Feyre towards the stairs.

"Seriously, I always wondered; how is Azriel in the bedroom -"

"Mor, shut up!", Feyre and I called in unison, Feyre laughing so hard, I had to shove her up the stairs. Shrugging, Mor followed, flashing me a grin.

"Just curious, you know; I've heard he's quite skilled, and I mean, it makes sense, the quiet ones are usually the ones who go hardest -"

"Oh my God." I dropped my forehead against Feyre´s back as she stopped to hold onto the banister, giggling so loudly, she started hiccuping.

"Okay, fine, I'll stop." Mor grinned. "But only because I don't want Feyre to fall down the stairs before she can get her midnight kiss from Rhys."

My best friend stopped laughing abruptly, and it was my turn to snort and cackle.

Feyre's cheeks glowed pink as she glared at Mor. "I don't -"

"Sure." Mor smirked and slipped past us, sending her a wink before sauntering up the stairs. Feyre glowered at her back, beginning to stomp after her, and giggling, I followed after both of them.

Up on the third floor, the music and noise made the floor vibrate.

"How do the neighbours don't complain every year?" Feyre widened her eyes slightly, readjusting the packages of snacks she was balancing in her arms with her chin.

"Probably used to the boys being loud." I smirked.

"I think Rhys always invites the people right below you, and the ones down on the first floor usually spend New Years somewhere else, so they don't really got anything to complain about." Mor knocked her elbow against the door. "And the old folks next door wouldn't even hear a whole football team tap dancing up the stairs, so -"

Feyre and I started giggling, and Mor grinned before widening her eyes when someone pulled the door open. "Thank God, I'm starving."

Following Feyre into the hall, I sighed happily at the warmth enveloping me as I kicked the door shut. Feyre peeled off her jacket before taking one of the bottles out of my arms, and I slipped out of my coat, squeezing it onto the overflowing coat hanger next to the door.

There were people filling the hall, the kitchen and crowding the living room; coworkers of Cassian and friends of the boys from the gym, some of the guys Rhys played basketball with, people from uni and classes and a whole lot I didn´t know. It was loud and full and smelled of stale air, perfume and food.

Mor, Feyre and I slipped past kitchen, where the Christmas decorations were still up and the counter had been transformed into a bar, with lights and all. Putting the glittering booze down, I followed after the other two into the living room. The tree was glittering, lametta draped over the branches after Cassian and I had taken down all the baubles this afternoon. Streamers were hanging over the shelves, ceilings and windows, along with big floating balloons. Cassian almost ran into one when he spotted us, starting to grin widely.

"Hey!" He ducked under some silver streamers and pressed kisses to Mor's and Feyre's cheeks, the latter clearly not used to his teddy bear behavior yet, then he slung an arm around my waist and lifted me off the ground slightly in a tight hug. When he let me slip to the ground again, he sent me a shit-eating smirk. "Look at you; you know, if Az isn't around at midnight, I'd totally -"

I kicked his shin the same moment someone behind me snorted, and as Cassian winced, an arm was dropped over my shoulders.

"If you think Az wouldn't make sure he gets his midnight kiss, you've inhaled too much glitter." Rhys' lazy smirk was audible in his voice as he leaned down his head a little. I pressed a kiss onto his offered cheek and called over the noise: "Where is he?"

Rhys opened his mouth before closing it again and smirking, nodding over my head, and turning around, I followed his gaze.

My heart dipped and swerved, and my breath hitched in my throat when over the heads of the crowd, I found golden amber eyes piercing mine.

Azriel was leaning against the wall next to the fireplace. His shoulders strained against his simple black t-shirt, tattoos scattered over his arms, his dark hair tousled. He looked glowering as usual, not paying any attention to the people bustling around him, but some of his scowl slipped away his eyes dragged over mine. Then he pushed off the wall and started moving through the crowd, towards us, people getting out of his way quickly. But he didn't even spre them a glance, just kept watching me, something warm and deep and twinkling in his eyes that caused my heart to begin fluttering quickly.

Rhys slid his arm from my shoulder and moved past me to greet Mor and Feyre, sending the latter a grin that caused her cheeks to grow pink even as she huffed, and Azriel pushed past him. Something rose into my throat as I tipped my head back to look up at him, parting my lips to drop a teasing remark about his outfit that didn´t deviate from his usual in the slightest - but before I could even make a sound, Azriel dipped his head and kissed me.

A small sound broke from my chest at the firm press of his lips, my breath catching in my throat when I felt his hand slide up to my neck, and my heart swelled and pulsed under my ribs as my fingers curled into the soft cotton of Azriel's t-shirt and my knees turned to jello.

Azriel's lips curved upwards slightly against mine. I felt his tall, solid body press against mine, his calloused thumb gently tracing the line of my throat. Then Azriel slowly broke the kiss, his nose gently nudging mine as he pulled back his head just a little to stare down at me, his eyes golden in the warm pulsing lights. There was the slightest trace of a crease in his cheek, curtesy of a small smirk as he leaned down again to press a light kiss onto the corner of my lips.

"Hi." His deep voice vibrated through me, low and smooth, and I managed a breathless "Hello." that caused the crease in his cheek to deepen as he broke into a grin that was shit-eating enough to rival the one Cassian usually was sporting. I quickly pinched his side, no give to his muscles when he winced a little and glared at me.

"Hey, Az."

Cassian probably had a sixth sense for someone just remotely thinking of him, because he was smirking when Azriel straightened and turned enough that I could peak past him, just in time to see the twinkle in Cassian's eyes when he sent me a light wink.

"I was just saying - Y/N looks too pretty to not be kissed at midnight; I'd volunteer if -"

Azriel scowled darkly, and I snorted a laugh and flipped Cassian off. He pretended to catch it, sending back a kiss and grinning widely, and Azriel rolled his eyes and turned back towards me with a shake of his head, but there was a light twinkle in his iris when he gently pushed me past him towards one of the armchairs.

"Okay, only fifteen minutes til midnight!" Rhys' loud voice echoed through the apartment, answered by whoops and cheers, and I grinned into my drink when I felt Azriel's chest vibrate with a huff.

I was tucked into his side in one of the armchairs, my legs draped over his lap and dangling over one of the armrests, his arm draped over my back. His right hand was slowly running up and down my shin, his scarred skin warm through the thin pair of thights I was wearing, his thumb brushing over my knee once in a while. Mor and Feyre were lounging on the couch a little to my left, facing us, Cassian reclined lazily next to them as he grinned when Rhys moved past the coffee table.

They had kept coming and going, but Azriel and I had spent almost all of the past three hours in the same spot. Mor had dragged me up to dance twice, and I'd only let her because it meant I could stock up on snacks on my way back to where Azriel stayed lounging lazily in the big armchair, dark eyes calm and watchful on the people laughing and mingling and talking loudly around him. Everytime I returned, his legs parted slightly, and he shifted until I had plopped back down next to him before dragging my legs over his lap and stealing some of the food or a drink I was carrying. He looked perfectly comfortable, and no one dared bothering him, the glowering looks he sent Cassian and Rhys' way whenever they got too close warning enough to anyone else.

I had huddled up with Feyre in the kitchen for a while, curled up on one corner of the couch and giggling, and got pulled into conversations with her and Mor and the boys more than once. But I was always pulled back towards Azriel and the place squeezed into his side, talking quietly over the noise, Azriel's nose brushing my hair when he mumbled something into my ear, his lips curving into a light smirk whenever his words sent me into a fit of giggles. When I twisted to whisper into his ear, the scent of his cologne flooded my nose, and I could feel warmth wash over me.

It felt like we were in our own little bubble, comfortably curled up in the middle of the chaos, barely even noticing the people around us whenever the others had disappeared into the crowd again.

"Let's go outside so we get a good place on the balcony!" A coat was thrown at me, nearly landing on my head, and I jumped, my eyes darting up to glower at Rhys, but he just winked before tossing Azriel his jacket.

Sighing and grumbling, I laborously dug myself out of the armchair. I could feel Azriel's chest brush my back when he rose to his feet, towering over me, his calloused fingers gently pulling my hair out of the way when I slipped into my coat before he slid into his jacket.

Wrapping the thick scarf Feyre had gifted me last Christmas around my neck, I shivered happily as I buried myself in my coat, feeling Azriel's warm fingers sliding over my palm. My heart rose when they slipped into the spaces between mine, linking them together firmly, his thumb brushing lightly over my skin. Then his biceps gently bumped into my shoulder, pushing me over to the window doors leading out onto the balcony.

The air was freezing, our breath rising in white clouds when we stepped onto the balcony. The fairy lights wrapped around the balcony were glowing in a warm golden light just like the bushes in the huge stone pots where we huddled against the stone balustrade. Mor's teeth were chattering dramatically as she slightly swayed on the spot, and Feyre's nose was pink when she huffed at something Rhys mumbled, but I could see the way she hid a wide beaming smile in her scarf. Rhys was staring at the side of her face.

There was a gentle huff against my hair, and when I looked up over my shoulder, Azriel's chest pressed into my back, his hands sliding into my pockets to link our fingers. His eyes were on Rhys and Feyre as well, and there was a knowing twinkle in his eyes as he watched his best friend stare at mine.

Feeling my heart rise and a giddy giggle pulse under my ribs, I turned back ahead, flashing Cassian a grin over Mor's head. He winked back, his wide smile causing his cheeks to crease.

Slowly, the others joined us on the balcony and at the windows. When I heard the door down on the street, I leaned forward to look over the balustrade and saw that some people had decided to watch the fireworks of the neighbourhood from down on the sidewalk.

Rhys kept looking on his watch, counting down the time. Azriel wrapped his arms around me, resting his chin on my head as I played with his fingers, leaning back into his solid chest and feeling something thrum against my ribs. Mor disappeared back into the flat for a minute and returned with some glasses filled with sparkling, bubbling drinks she placed on the broad balustrade in front of us. I shivered in excitement, shifting giddily in the spot as Rhys started counting down the seconds to midnight.

The people around us started joining in until everyone was counting. I felt my heart rise and flutter as a stupidly wide grin spread over my face, Mor bumping her shoulder into mine and Feyre hopping around giddily on the spot.

"Four!"

Mor giggled and leaned forward to press a smacking kiss onto my cheek before looping her arm through Cassian´s, hitting his stomach so forcefully in excitement, he actually coughed a little.

"Three!"

Feyre squeezed my arm and beamed at me, and I caught a glimpse at Rhys on her other side, staring down at her like he was trying to make a decision.

"Two!"

I breathed out and closed my eyes, feeling heat in my cheeks despite the cold and the pulsing thrum of my heart against my ribs and the warmth blooming in my chest growing bigger and bigger.

"One!"

Azriel's hands slipped out of mine, his chest pressing into my back as his arm slid around my waist and turned me around, and as everyone yelled "Happy New Year!", Azriel´s hands slipped up to cradle my face, and he leaned down and kissed me.

My heart rose in a wild flutter, and I slid my hands under his coat, his chest curving into mine as Azriel kissed me, deep and heated and all-consuming, his tongue twisting with mine as a soft sound broke from his chest, and I clung to him, feeling the thrum in my chest explode like the fireworks over us in the sky, showering my body in golden glittering sparkles until it felt like I was floating, my heart rising until I couldn´t breathe.

I could hear whoops and jeers all around, a little far away and like slow motion, felt Azriel´s calloused fingers cradling my face and the slight shudder in his breath when his nose dragged over mine. Then he kissed me again, his hands sliding down as my arms wrapped around his neck and my body curved into his as his hands pressed against my back, and I felt something begin to pulse against my ribs.

"Happy New Year,", Azriel mumbled against my lips, his deep, hoarse voice causing a shudder to run down my spine, and I clung to him, feeling a ridiculously wide smile slowly spreading over my face.

"Happy New Year."

Azriel's nose nudged mine, and his eyes, dark and molten, pierced mine. Then he dipped his head and mumbled into my ear: "C'mon."

My breath hitched, and my heart rose into my throat when his hand slipped under my coat and pushed me past him, through the crowd towards the doors leading inside.

I could feel him in my back, towering over me as we slipped through the people cheering and toasting in the living room. Something was thrumming against my ribs, twisting in my stomach when Azriel unlocked the door to his door and I moved past him, turning and feeling my heart beginning to flutter against my ribs when Az closed the door. The lock clicked, and Azriel slid out of his jacket, stepping towards me. His warm, calloused hands slipped under my scarf, his fingers tracing up my neck as he unwrapped it slowly. Dropping it to the floor, he dipped his head, his nose brushing against mine as the noise outside grew, mixing with the muffled crashing of fireworks.

The pulsing feeling in my chest turned into a hurricane, and Azriel slipped his hands to the back of my neck and kissed me, deep and hard and unhurried. Then he pushed my coat off my shoulders and leaned down, sliding his arm under my backside and lifting me off the ground.

When an hour later, we slipped back into the living room, the bass was making the floor vibrate, people were cheering and dancing, and Cassian, lounging on the couch, hollered while Rhys whistled, but Azriel just rolled his eyes. They couldn't see the scratch marks on his shoulders beneath the crumpled material of his t-shirt, or the love bites littering my skin underneath my dress, but swollen lips and messy hair and the way Azriel's hand slipped under the seam of my dress when he pulled me into his lap were enough.

Enough for Cassian to smirk and Rhys to chuckle and for Mor to wiggle her brows when she dragged me to my feet only seconds later, pulling me with her towards Feyre, the both of them cackling. Flipping them off, I let them pull me towards the people dancing and looked over my shoulder, and my heart rose when for a second, my eyes found Azriel's through the crowd, watching me, his eyes molten and deep, swirling with something that made my breath hitch.

I blinked, then I slowly started to smile, bright and cheeky, before sending him a wink, and I saw the huffed laugh leaving him, something dipping in my stomach when I turned around with a beaming smile.

The flat stayed filled with people until well into the morning. I was pulled into the crowd again and again, and yet - no matter how long I danced with Mor and Feyre, played beer pong with Cassian or mixed drinks with Rhys that were so bad, he declared us unfit to ever to do it again - I always ended back in the corner of the couch, with the scent of cedar and darkness filling my lungs, an arm wrapped around me and a deep, low voice mumbling into my ear, light kisses pressed against my neck and a scarred hand wrapped around my knee.

And by the time Mor and Feyre crashed in my bed and Cassian had dozed off on the couch and Rhys let the door fall shut behind the last people, groaning happily, I was already fast asleep, wearing only a t-shirt that smelled like home, curled up against a warm, solid chest, leg thrown over a bare hip and nose pressed into warm skin as Azriel slid his arms tighter around me, dragging me up and further into his body as his tall form curled around me and he buried his face in the crook of my neck.

@azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @secret-ly-here @knmendiola @luvmoo @azriels-mate2 @bookishbroadwaybish @maybe-a-winchester @stayinglow-exploringworlds @harrystylesfan2686 @icey--stars @ssmay123

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heartburriedinvenice · 2 years

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Next Week

( steve harrington x reader )

in which you just want to rent Back to the Future but every week it has already been rented and every time you come back to check Steve Harrington says it will be back. . . next week and for some reason, you still believe him.

in which two lovesick idiots have to make stupid excuses to talk to each other.

content warning mild cursing, steve being an idiot, the reader being an idiot, robin being the only smart one, and steve's awful description of the back to the future plot

a / n i love steve harrington so here's this... the last piece of happiness on this account before i drop so much angst with no mercy ( and then after that a robin fluff piece ) i believe you can survive this war but before that happens enjoy this mess!!

You had noticed a few things about the video store in Hawkins, Indiana. One, Keith didn’t work there alone anymore. Two, the cute boy working there always made your hands unnecessarily sweaty. And three, they never seemed to have the movies you were looking for.

It started a few weeks ago. Your sister wanted to watch a movie that weekend after missing the showing of Back to the Future due to the unfortunate mall fire that knocked out a whole block of town. So the two of your drove to the gas station, bought a bunch of junk food, and headed to the video store. Though as soon as you walked in, you noticed the idiot who would quiz you for around twenty minutes on every movie you returned, and no you weren’t exaggerating, your sister had timed it, was no longer at the counter. But instead, the fallen king of Hawkins High, Steve Harrington, him and his hair in all its glory. You weren’t sure how his dethroning as king resulted in him getting stuck working at the video store by the arcade, for half a second you question if it was even him or maybe some weirdly similar look alike. But no, no it was Steve, you would know it anywhere. And just like any day, you had made your way to the counter, smiling at the boy who almost immediately smiled back upon meeting your gaze.

“Hi,” you greeted.

“Hey,” he replied, reciting the lines Keith had gotten him to memorize after repeating them to him probably fifty times. “I’m Steve, welcome to Hawkins Family Video, where we bring movies to you, what can I do for you today?”

“I know who you are, Steve” you said, though immediately you wished you could turn back time find a time machine and jump backwards at how creepy it sounded. “Shit, I didn’t mean that to sound so creepy! Im sorry, I just, we went to the same high school. Well of course we went to the same high school but you know-”

“No! No, it’s good,” Steve replied, slightly stumbling over his words. “I, uh, I didn't think you were being creepy. What can I do for you today?”

“Oh, yeah, I was looking for Back to the Future,” you replied.

“Back to the Future’ huh?” He replied.

“Yeah,I didn’t really get to see it after the whole mall burning down and all, you know?”

He only nodded, you noticing him visibly tensing up at you comment. Passing it off as nothing but it being a stranger memory, a tragedy for a small town like Hawkins, something that didn’t happen often. It was weird, the tiniest bit unsettling.

“If i'm being honest, the movie was pretty meh. Like just okay. Pretty low on the movie scale for me. I got to see it, it was a little confusing,” Steve explained, his voice slightly dropping into a whisper. “Not to spoil anything, but I’m pretty sure, the mom in that movie is trying to bang her son...so…”

You stared at him for a second, waiting for him to say he was joking. But nothing came, only silence as you stared back at him with wide eyes, your voice dropping into a whisper to match his.

“Wait, you aren’t joking?” you asked.

“I mean, I work at a video store, would I be steering you wrong?” He asked.

“There’s no way! No way!” You practically yelled. “That’s messed up, they played that here? How did the PTA at the schools not go insane?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to say! No one believes me,” he agreed.

“I gotta see this movie,” you said, a quiet laugh escaping at the end of your words.

“Ill go ahead and find that for you,” he offered as he walked backwards towards the back room, bumping into the door in the process. “I’ll be right back.”

And he didn’t lie, not long after the boy headed back out of the backroom, you quickly realizing he was in fact empty handed.

“I’m sorry, just realized someone came in earlier and rented our last copy,” he tried to explain, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh,”you replied, slightly deflating after the anticipation built up for the movie. “That’s okay, I’ll just rent something-.”

“But you can come back next week!” He interrupted, practically yelling. “It will be back next week…”

“Yeah? Okay. Cool, great! Sounds like a plan,” you replied with a slight nod. “Guess I’ll see you next week?”

“Yep, next week, see you then,” he replied, his words coming out in an awkward kind of manner.

With a quick smile at the boy, you made your way towards the door, not even noticing that your hands were starting to become extremely clammy. Only stopped by the sound of Steve’s voice once again.

“Hey! What’s your name?” He asked. “You know, so I can keep track of who wants the movie next?”

And so you gave him your name, writing it down on a piece of paper because of his claimed horrible memory watching as he tucked it into his pocket as you exited yhe store. A smile glued to your face and a giddy somewhat nauseating feeling in your stomach as you made your way back into the car, almost forgetting the fact your sister was waiting for you. Scratch that, completely forgetting your sister was waiting for you.

“Did you get the movie?” She asked, practically groaning the sentence out.

“What?” You asked, buckling your seatbelt.

“The movie” She replied like it was the most obvious thing. “Where is it?”

“Oh! Shit, yeah, that’s why we're here! Um, they didn’t have it, we'll have to watch it next week,” you replied nonchalantly, as something that once would have annoyed you had zero effect on your mood. “The boy who worked there said it would be back next week, wrote my name down and everything.”

The younger girl let out another groan as she dramatically collapsed back into her seat.

“Fine. But don’t expect me to watch the fucking ‘Outsiders’ with you again.”

And It went on for a few weeks, you making your way to the video store every Friday night with the same answer from the boy. One would question the validity of his statement, that it would be there next week, your sister had called you a fucking idiot. Her newfound revaluation that she could say a curse word without being struck by lightning completely shifting her vocabulary.

One night you even asked for a different movie you were pretty sure no one would be watching, but of course it just so happened to have gotten rented. You didn’t mind though all that much, though you would never admit it out loud, you didn’t mind it at all. Because each time you walked in you were greeted by Steve Harrington and some sort of memorable conversation. Steve Harrington. Who was actually pretty nice company, no matter how much of a dork you had realized he was. And no matter how many times you told yourself to just watch something at your house or borrow something from your friend, you continued to drive up to the same store, only to be given the same answer. And no matter how many times your sister had called you oblivious, you ignored the metaphorical butterflies that attacked the walls of your stomach. Maybe it was those conversations, the conversations that caused you to stay way longer than you intended? The conversations that ranged from joking about Keith to talking about stuff that left the two of you there up until closing. Whatever it was, you couldn’t help yourself from coming back.

Just like any other Friday, you parked your car outside of the store, your sister no longer tagging along as she knew you weren’t getting the movie but instead a hour long conversation she would have to sit through in pure boredom. Opening the door, the little bell rang, and you were immediately caught off guard by someone else at the counter. There stood a girl, close to your age from what you could tell. Her shoulder length blonde hair was covering her face as she looked at some book that laid on the counter. Hesitantly, you made your way to the counter, feeling somewhat out of place without having the perfect haired, idiot staring at you. Like you were in a whole other building.

“Hi,” you stated, the blonde haired girl looking up from her book. Feeling as if this was somehow your first time stopping in.

“Hello,” the girl replied, gaze back on her book as she flipped to the next page.

“I come in here every week looking for Back to the Future, I’m pretty sure Steve has my name written down,” you tried to explain to the girl. “I was just wondering if it was finally here to rent?”

“‘Back to the Future’?” The girl asked, as if you were stupid.

“Yeah…” you replied, doubting yourself for a second.

“What do you mean it hasn’t been here?” asked the girl, whose name you had picked up as Robin from her name tag. “Nobody has rented that movie for like the past two months.”

“But...I, he told me,” you said, at a loss for words.

“Well Stevie told you wrong,” said Robin, with a slight laugh, setting the book aside to set her full attention on you. “What’s your name again?”

“Y/N,” you simply replied.

“No way! Your’re the famous Y/N?” said Robin with a awestruck kind of enthusiasm. “I have been waiting to meet you. No wonder he was so upset about missing work today. He hates work, I was so surprised he even cared that much that he couldn’t be here but-”

“Famous?” You asked, the word sticking out in the midst of her ramble.

“Yeah, it’s not everyday that Steve Harrington has been so encompassed by a girl that he has to fake that ‘Back to the Future’ isn’t here just to get her back,” Robin said, a laugh following her words, almost bending over from how hard she was laughing. “What an idiot!”

“What do you mean by fake?”

“That it was gone. It was a plan to talk to you again. Oh he’s gonna kill me if he knew I told you,” she explained. “But he needs to get it over with and just ask you out. There is no way he strung it out this long!“

You stood there astonished, not even sure what to say back in response. Now your turn to wear that awestruck looks What were you even supposed to say? Where was the lesson on what to do in this type of situation?

“Is he still here?” You asked, part of you wanting to see him, the other wishing to run away and not look back.

“No matter how much I want to see this go down, sadly he had something today,” she replied. “I’m closing up tonight, but you know, I’m sure he’ll be here next week.”

#steve harrington x reader #steveharringtonxreader #stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #steve harrington imagines #stranger things 4 #stranger things imagine #strangerthings #steve harrington season 4 #fluff #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington fluff #taking a break from the usually scheduled angst #savour this cause i am bringing angst x10 in the next couple fics #xoxoxo love love love my boyfriend steve what a king obsessed #i think i want to marry everyone in stranger things #okay live laugh love this fic up pls

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lavendermunson · 1 year

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enchanted | knight!eddie munson x princess!reader

summary Eddie never saw you again after that night, you both were ten years old and sitting in a piano, just a couple of kids enjoying each others company but since you were a princess with an arranged marriage, you got trapped in a castle. You never saw Eddie again but he did, getting close to your windows to watch you, you grew to be the most beautiful he has ever seen. A re-encounter might change the world, even put upside down two different kingdoms.

tags +18, afab!reader, perv!eddie, mentions of jason craver sorry, best friends to lovers kind of relationship, masturbation reader and eddie, mentions of food in a nsfw way, set in some fairytale, mention of low self-steem. one use of y/n just one i swear it’s you won’t even remember it. i tried to be as inclusive as possible so i didn’t mention anything about the reader’s, no skin color, no hair color, no body type, if i missed something tell me! i want everyone to read this and picture themselves as a princess, although i did used she/her pronouns and the reader was born in autumn. mentions of death eddie’s mom

a/n i pictured a lot of princess from disney and also toon inspiration from bridgerton, it’s the first time i write something so long so forgive me for any mistakes. if you want me to keep writing this story don’t forget to mention it :)

wc 2.4k… i surprised myself

moodboard | next chapter

A few years ago two kingdoms decided to unite, building a wall to protect them both and agreeing on sharing everything. With this agreement also came the rule of “arrange the marriage of their second born children at the age of 20” The two of them being born in the same year made it easier for it to be more under control, thanks to their older siblings being already married or out of town.

Prince Jason, from the Craver family, was born in the light of the summer, and with it came his whole personality. He isn’t much of a charming young man, his soft hair shines under every light, even the fire, what’s supposed to be aggressive and dangerous. The boy used it in his favor, lighting his room every time he got a new girl on his bed from one of his famous parties.

From the second kingdom, Princess Y/N from the Willow family was born in autumn, just in time when the trees start to let go of their orange-colored leaves. She was a quiet girl, always surrounded by books, avoiding parties, and helping her mom grow all kinds of flowers. She’s never had a boyfriend, and always tried to keep herself busy until the day of her wedding, which she named “the end of her life”.

She didn’t like Jason, at family dinners, he always had a girl in his arms, he wasn’t polite and he was irresponsible. Didn’t have what it took to be a good prince, let aside the new king. The princess was about to turn 20, in three weeks exactly, she was scared of her future because she had too much more to learn, to see, to experience.

—

At the start of the cold winter, Eddie was born, the same year as the prince and the princess, his friends always joked about that “If you were born into the Craver family, you would’ve married the princess” he always laughed about that, knowing that only happened in his dreams, one time, after a private Christmas dinner with the Royalty, when his uncle Wayne became the Willow king’s right hand. Eddie was being trained by his uncle, in sword fights, first aid, horse riding, everything to serve as a knight to the Willow kingdom and to keep him close, but the long-haired boy hated it, he wanted to play guitar, play piano, conquer every instrument in existence, he loved music thanks to his mom who unfortunately died when he was a little boy.

Eddie had an innocent crush since that dinner, he was 10 the same as you, and you showed him the piano and started playing with it.

“You should come here and take classes with me, I'm pretty sure you’re going to be better than me. You have talent, Eds” You said.

“She said I can take classes with her, Wayne.” little Eddie begged his uncle to let him go “Pleaaase”

“No way son, you have to start training,” the older man said, with a frown on his face.

Since that day, you never saw Eddie again, but he did, when he gets a little too close to the kingdom and stares at your living room window where you read, every day, at 5 pm. He watches you bite your bottom lip when you flip the pages gently, your fingers rub the words as you furrow your eyebrows, he realizes he is head over heels for you.

—

It was a Sunday, the air was cold and the clouds were getting in the way of the sun making its light a little bit dim. Eddie grabbed a horse and some grapes, to keep him company while he watched you read, it wasn’t weird, right? He wasn't doing anything wrong, just an innocent act of… spying. His uncle stopped him after hearing the loud steps of the horse.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m going for a ride, just to clear my head”

“No, you get back here young man” The voice of his uncle was louder, firmer, Eddie whined at the old man with a frustrated look on his face “Did you forget tomorrow you start working for real? We have to get you ready”

“Ready? I’m ready Wayne I just need a little time to myself”

“Nonsense, get back here you have to clean your armor”

They both get back in the little house, Eddie sighed as his uncle showed him the new armor.

“But it’s clean!” Eddie whined again, Wayne eyed his nephew annoyed, and tossed a cloth into the young boy’s chest.

“It’s not, it has to shine,” he said, Eddie sighed again, defeated. “C’mon”

Eddie stayed home that day, the first day he skipped his little spying routine, and thank god he did because what happened that day at 5 pm would’ve broken his heart.

“Just one kiss, please?” Jason said to you, getting the book out of your hands and throwing it aside.

“You are drunk at 5 pm? What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing! Just kiss me” he leaned in closer to your face, fingers touching your jaw “We are getting married, don’t you remember?”

“I do, I think about it every day and it makes me so sick, now I have a migraine because of your little tantrum” You push him away, and with all the strength in your body, gravity played a little turn and betrayed you, making you fall on top of him on the floor.

“Are we going to practice?” Jason had a grin on his face, his hands tightening on your waist. You get up quickly at the feeling of his touch, fixing up your dress you leave the room, not after scoffing at him and his absurd behavior.

—

On Monday, the kingdoms were throwing a celebration in honor of King Craven’s 60th birthday. Everyone in town was celebrating, having a big party for themselves with the excuse of their least-favorite King. The servants were getting the party started, Queen Craven decided to go with a ball instead of a casual dinner, where people from other towns would come to see the castle and have fun with beautiful gowns and expensive jewelry.

After Eddie met with the Willow king and queen, his new job was taking care of their little princess. He was excited about it but also nervous. He’s getting a chance to spend time with you, to watch you for a few more minutes than usual. It was a new sensation for him, some kind of anxiety mixed with enthusiasm, walking around with a heavy metal armor over his body relaxed him a bit, it was making pressure on his chest so his heart wouldn’t burst out, the only ‘bad’ thing was he didn’t have to wear a helmet, he was afraid his grin was too big on his face and decided to look for an empty room to make a little dance of celebration.

Finally one of the doors opens, and thanks to his bad luck he finds your room. You are currently in a large undergarment, looking at yourself in the mirror and making a disgusted face. You didn’t have a corset on because you hated them, but something was off with your self-esteem that day.

“Sorry, sorry i-” he said, stunned to speak at the sight of the beautiful princess. He also dreamed of seeing your body, it was better than his imagination would have pictured. The parts of your naked skin were glowing, he closed his fist trying to keep himself on edge, the desire of touching you, feeling your soft skin with his fingertips, and placing kisses all over you made Eddie turn around quickly, closing his eyes in an attempt to memorize what he just saw.

“Wait! Don’t go!” you said, getting in your dress as quickly as possible as he touched the door handle “Can you tie up my dress? It’s pretty difficult for me since i can’t reach”

Eddie opened his eyes wider, trying to ease his breathing and slowly coming up to you ‘Your wish is my command’ he said to himself.

He nods in your direction and gets closer, you move your hair to one side so Eddie can tie up the dress easier, and with his big fingers, he takes the laces of the dress tightening up a little, and makes a secure knot on your back.

“Please make sure you add a bow, i-it looks better that way” You peek your head over your shoulder for a second, he nods again and tries to make a proper bow, but it turned out nicely than he thought.

He rests his hands on your waist, looking at your reflection in the mirror, you keep checking if the dress looks good and trying to fix some parts of it that look loose. You didn’t mind Eddie’s touch, you knew who he was and what he was doing here (kind of). You were happy inside, you always wanted Eddie as a friend since that night when you were kids, and now you can keep him close, even better, speak to him and get to know him.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you say, getting out of your pool of thoughts.

“You remember me?” he asks, eyebrows crinkled on his face, and you giggle looking at his surprised face.

“How could I forget such a pretty face?” Eddie flushes instantaneously.

“Me? You are the one who looks speechless” you blush, the little flirt game making your heart flutter.

“You think so? I believe this dress has something wrong, do you?”

Eddie takes his time to reply, looking at your reflection again he keeps looking for the mistake you were searching for earlier, but he seems to miss it. He gets brave enough to trace your waist and torso with his fingers, going up from your back and resting his hands on your exposed shoulders, rubbing them delicately. You shiver at his touch, something that you have never felt before, your tummy starts to feel funny and your breath hitches, the boy behind you is quick to notice your little squirm, he laughs at it and gently takes his hands off you, you miss his touch already.

“I don’t think so, it looks… you look really good” he says, giving you a look of reassurance. He misses your skin too, it’s been just a couple of seconds since his fingers ignited with your warm skin and now his hands are too cold for his liking. You turn around in a quick twist, locking eyes with him.

“So… you work here now,” you ask him, getting lost in his chocolate eyes.

“Yes, from now on”

“What do you have to do?” His cheeks feel warm being close to you, now he hates the armor that protects his chest from the warmth of your body.

“I have to take care of you, actually” You are quick to notice he is trying to hide a big smile “Your mom kept talking about your little trips to the outside and she wants someone to protect you”

“You think I need protection?” you cross your arms in front of your chest, Eddie brings his attention to your little act trying to look tough and he gets lost in your cleavage for a minute.

“N-no, I’m sure you are fine” he shakes his head and finds your eyes again “Since you’ve been back without a scratch i know you got everything under control, i mean… she only wants to keep me close to you so she can relax” he curses at himself for feeling so nervous all of a sudden, the fact that he didn’t know about your trips to the woods outside the kingdoms makes his blood boil, he kept tabs on you every day, all day, how did he miss this?

“I’m pretty sure she thinks there are monsters out there” you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand “i only go out to read, sometimes i need to clear my head and be somewhere new, you know?” He nods, he understands perfectly, that’s what he said to his uncle just yesterday.

“Yes, but now I'll be doing my job and watching you” ‘like i used to’ he thinks to himself.

“Alright, i don’t mind you doing your job” You roll your eyes and turn around “I have to keep getting ready, can you wait outside?”

“Yes, of course” he leans his head to the front and you giggle at his movements “I’ll leave you to it”you giggle at his movements “I’ll leave you to it”

“I’ll take a lot of time, you can just go get some food and I’ll find you in the kitchen”

“If you need something i’ll be there, i have to take you to the Craven kingdom in an hour”

“Perfect, i’ll find you there” he leaves your room after listening to your words, you look at him with a soft smile before he closes the door and you run to the bathroom to clear your head.

You quickly realize you miss his touch on your body, the pool on your panties confirms it. You lift your dress and sit on the edge of the bathroom, reaching for your pussy and rubbing your clit over your clothes with your fingers, closing your eyes, and trying to focus on him. His masculine scent comes back to you, remembering his fingers touching you and the way he looked so good in that armor, you made sure to remember he had been working out to get the job. Your imagination takes you far beyond, it was almost as you were listening to his moans, but no, it can be, he is in the kitchen at this moment. Maybe he is eating a tiny cookie with his big hands, crust getting all over his mouth, maybe he is eating a cupcake while he gets frosting over his fingers and he sucks them clean, eating the bottom part while licking at his sugary lips.

But you were wrong, he wasn’t in the kitchen, he came back a couple of seconds after you went into the bathroom. He wanted to ask you something before you had to be in a public space, surrounded by people he didn’t like. But you weren’t there, he got worried for a second until his ears started ringing, recognizing your voice through the bathroom door and your shaky moans. His cock got hard just hearing you breathe in and out with a fast rhythm, he quickly got his hand under his pants and started to rub his dick, moaning at your pretty noises not noticing you could hear him, he managed to run to a bathroom close to your room to release his cum and wash his hands after. You did the same in your bathroom, quickly cleaning your cum so it doesn’t drip onto your clothes.

If that’s how both of you get after seeing each other for less than an hour, it would be worse when you have to be together day and night.

sorry i ended up like this :) if you want more i’ll be happy to write it, leave some ideas of what should happen next i’ll be reading you ♡ feedback is appreciated! don't forget to REBLOG TO SUPPORT THE AUTHOR!

tags: @stephanie-nicks76 ty for commenting luv. join my taglist in the form or comment here

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glennrheesworld · 27 days

Note

if you do negan could you do any kind of thing about reader being his son and meeting up after not seeing eachother for the apocalypse

𝐑𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧~

genre: angst & fluff pairing: Negan x m!reader summary: It's been years since the reader has last heard of and seen his dad, Negan. That's until now. warning: cursing & mention of death

a/n: wrote this whole entire thing at 2AM... my sleep schedule is fucked up 😭 (not proofread)

Negan had left you and Mom back at home, as he had decided to find the necessary medical supplies to aid Mom’s health condition. But he was taking a while and so you decided to go out and look for him; leaving behind Mom who was sleeping soundlessly.

After aimlessly yet cautiously walking around town, you had found yourself lost. Everything was in ruins and just unrecognizable, which made matters worse. You didn’t know where to go or where to find Negan. It had been a full day and when you finally found your way back home, you came face-to-face with a terrifying scene.

Mom’s heart had stopped. And Mom was no longer Mom, but a corpse rotting on the bed you would often cuddle in with her.

You couldn’t hold back the tears that began to spill, the heartache burning inside you as you clutched at your chest. Dad was nowhere to be seen. So, you stayed there for a week, expecting Dad to show up, maybe even expecting that everything would be back to normal when you closed your eyes every night. Desperately wanting to wake up from this nightmare.

— — —

It had been years since the death of Mom and since you’ve seen Negan. You didn’t know what happened to Dad, but one thing was for sure. You hated him for leaving that day and not returning.

Surviving on your own wasn’t as hard as you thought. Sure, you had no company and were often bored of the silence, yet it was peaceful. You still miss Mom and Dad, but you learned to live on your own, to live for them.

Walking through a now abandoned neighborhood, you could feel the soft breeze of the chilly summer afternoon. You were searching for shelter, as you had been sleeping in a car for the past month before someone decided to ransack the vehicle, taking almost everything, you had inside.

Finally reaching a nice and somewhat clean-looking house, you decide to enter it. Ready in case a Walker lunges at you. You open the door wide enough, holstering your machete as your eyes scan the inside.

After a while of making sure the home was clear of Walkers, you shut the door and let yourself fall on the couch, a sigh leaving your lips.

Your stomach grumbles, reminding you that you haven’t eaten in days. With a soft groan, you get off the couch and walk into the kitchen. It was small, yet colorful. You open the cabinets and cupboards only two find a few canned foods.

Turning the 4 cans, you read the front of them: Canned Corn, Canned Peaches, Tomato Soup, and Baked Beans. It wasn’t something appetizing, but it would do the job. A spoonful of corn is shoved into your mouth, helping to get rid of the hunger you’re feeling. The can was almost empty, and your boredom was beginning to get to you.

But before you can even think of what to do, the sound of footsteps can be heard right outside the front door.

Fuck, why this house out of all?

You thought to yourself before quickly shoving the other canned food into your backpack and getting your machete readying in a strong grip. Your eyes dart around the kitchen, trying to find the perfect hiding spot. The pantry or under the table.

The door opens and you can hear what sounds like three men talking, steps getting closer, and just before they reach the kitchen, you duck under the table.

Pressing your back against the wall, you bite your tongue to keep quiet and ready for anything. Your eyes follow the shoes as they walk past the table. The noise of cabinets flying open, and dishes being moved around with the sound of two men talking filled the small kitchen before it slowly faded away.

You discreetly watch from under the table, following the men walk out of the kitchen with your eyes, The floorboards and staircase creak as they walk up to the second level of the home. This was your only chance to get out and so you took it.

Sneaking out from under the table you fix your backpack before quietly running out of the kitchen into the living room, almost out the front door before you’re stopped halfway.

“Oh, not so fast young man.” A teasing voice calls after you, having caught you trying to run out of the house. A voice you recognized so well.

You grit your teeth, cursing under your breath, “Shit.” You weren’t expecting anyone to be in the living room.

Slow heavy steps walk to behind you, your back facing this stranger.

“If I were you, I would drop that.” He’s talking about your machete. You feel your eyes sting and your heart begins to beat with anxiety. Something you haven’t felt in so long.

You slowly turn around with hands raised, weapon still in your possession. Your eyes land on his face.

He looked the same but, still different. Something about him had changed and you couldn’t quite place your finger on it.

“Dad?” Your voice wavers, holding yourself together.

Negan’s smirk falls off his face when he stares at you, eyes scanning your face. His eyes search yours, trying to read you. Wondering if he was dreaming again.

“Son?” He lowers his bat, face softening when it fully settles in him. He had found you, after years of searching. You were there, standing just a couple of feet away from him. All this time he thought his only son was gone forever, never to be found.

Even though you had so much anger bottled up inside you, you still couldn't hold back the joy and relief you felt when seeing your dad. Without hesitation, you drop your weapon and run toward him, embracing him in a tight and much-needed hug.

“Every day, I thought about you,” Negan tightens the hug, the sensation of feeling the love and relief from him made you at ease. He lets out a chuckle, pulling you back to grab the sides of your shoulders, looking you up and down.

He smiles down at you, eyes teary as he sniffles. “You've grown into a hell of a survivor, kid. I'm proud of you.” He grabs your face before ruffling your hair, earning a slight groan from you.

“I learned from the best.” You tell him, a sad smile on your lips. Negan seems to take notice of it as he pats your shoulder. “I'm sorry I couldn't protect you like I promised.”

His words make your heartache.

“It’s all in the past now… I’m just glad to have found you, Dad.” You remind him, blinking back tears before he pulls you back into a hug. This time, something different filled the room.

Peace.

#negan smith #negan x reader #negan x you #male reader #m!reader #twd x reader #twd imagine #twd fanfiction #the walking dead #rick grimes #glenn rhee #daryl dixon #carl grimes #thank you for requesting!#negan imagine

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azsazz · 7 months

Text

Dial Drunk

Small Town!Cassian x Archeron Sister!Reader

Summary: Cassian can't get you out of his head. The alcohol doesn't help, either.

Based on the song Dial Drunk by Noah Kahan

Warnings: Drinking, fist-fighting, police, mentions of cheating (not cassian), mentions of a boy dragging a girl upstairs (not cassian), angst, break-up.

Word Count: 4,070

_________________________________________

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” Cassian grumbles, shoving some of the sopping wet hair out of his face. He doesn’t care that it’s raining, that droplets bead at the tip of his straight nose, that his clothes are soaked through and sticking to his skin or that he’s standing in front of the entrance to Ritas, he doesn’t care about any of it.

The only thing he does care about is the fact that you’re not answering his calls.

He curses as your cheery voice chimes in his ear, tinny through the line. It’s your voicemail, telling him something about sticking around and about how you can’t get to the phone right now and that you’ll call him back. It’s utter fucking bullshit, is what it is. You’ve been dodging his calls for weeks now, ever since you’d told him you wanted to stop seeing him.

Cassian’s heart has been aching ever since.

He doesn’t leave a message this time—mostly because there’s no room in your inbox, filled with messages long left from him. He grunts and shoves his phone back into his pocket. The bitter taste of his drink is thrown back with a grimace. Rita would have his balls if she found out he took one of her glasses out here, and it’s all he can do not to chuck it into the street in frustration.

He just wants a chance to explain.

The door behind him shoves open and hits his back. Cassian spins, a remark on the tip of his tongue, fingers curled around the glass, ready to use it as a weapon if he needs to.

It’s Rita herself, bar owner and roughened with years of dealing with drunken regulars. The short, stocky woman glares up at him as if he’s not three times her size. She’s wiping her hands on the towel hanging from the pocket of her apron, then crosses her arms over her chest.

“Knew I was missing a glass,” she comments, nodding to Cassian’s hand. He grimaces, shoulders falling and swallowing back the rude retort he had prepared if it were anyone other than her. Anger itches at his skin, his fists aching to smash through something as the alcohol burns through his veins.

“Sorry,” he grits, handing over the glass. Rita gives him a knowing look that he ignores and holds the door wider for him, inviting him back into the dank warmth of the bar.

He trudges inside. He doesn’t want people looking at him like that, with pity because he’d let the best thing he’d ever had go. Everyone in town knows by now how one of those sweet Archeron sisters broke his heart.

Broke is a loose term. It feels like you’ve done much more than that. Ripped it out of his chest and doused it with your favorite alcohol, lighting it on fire in the streets for the whole town to see. It feels like you’d let it turn to ash and picked up the soot and threw it into the river, washing your hands of him.

Fuck, did he mess up. Again and again and again. He can’t blame you though, you’d put up with enough for him and you never had to. Nesta nor Elain cared for him, he knew from the moment you’d first brought him home, when all they could do was share secretive looks with each other, uncaring if he caught them. It was almost as if they wanted him to see. Feyre and he got along, if only for the fact that she was nicer than the other two and actually gave him a chance.

Cassian’s sure the Archeron household was filled with cheers when you told them you’d left him.

He slumps back into the seat he’d been occupying since he’d gotten off of work. He didn’t want to go back to the meager apartment he calls home. It’s littered with dirty clothes and old pizza boxes, and there’s no food there anyway. He’s even drunk the last dregs of any of the alcohol he has, and he hasn’t been to the store yet to restock. He hasn’t had the energy to. At least Rita has a bowl of nuts sitting on the bar. Cassian takes a handful and shoves them into his mouth, but they sit uneasily in his alcohol filled stomach.

“Careful, the old men suck the chocolate off of those,” the bartender says, swiping at the bartop with her towel, sweeping away the drops of water dripping from his hair.

He gags and she laughs. “I’m only joking.” Cassian sizes her up. She’s pretty, he supposes, chestnut hair pulled high into a ponytail at the back of her head, tiny hairs framing her face in a way he’s not sure is intentional or not. Her green eyes sparkle with mischief and she’s wearing a cropped black t-shirt with the bar's logo on the front.

If he were more inebriated he’d probably let her take him home, let her ride him and forget your memory in her cunt.

He forces a laugh. “Another bourbon, please.”

“You cutting that with anything?” She presses, raising a perfectly trimmed brow. “Water, perhaps?”

“The ice is enough, thanks,” he answers, polite as he can. He’s trying to be patient, but the longer he sits here with no drink in his hand the more sober he gets, and at least if he’s drunk he can blame it on that when someone finally reams him out about calling you nonstop.

The bartender nods, and he can’t help himself, watching her as she works, eyes trailing down her body, over the curves of her plump ass as she bends over, probably for his benefit.

Cassian averts his gaze before she turns around, taking in the room.

Rita’s is packed with townies, as it always is on Friday nights. He prefers it over any of the other spots in town: the boujee new gastropub right up the street or the po-dunk watering hole with shitty pop-country music and a line dancing floor that he used to frequent with you and your friends. He’d adored watching you out there on the dancefloor, living it up with a beaming smile on your face. Everyone loved you over there, and a part of him wonders if you still frequent there, or if you’ve found somewhere else to be, all to be sure to avoid him.

“Let me know if you need anything,” the bartender winks, sliding the glass across the countertop. He catches it and lifts it in response, saluting her before bringing it to his lips, savoring the bite of the spicy liquor.

One more turns to two turns to three and a shot here or there. The bar fills steadily as the night grows later. His ass is numb in his chair, but so are his lips, and it must be the alcohol’s doing. His phone lies open on the counter, texts from his friends gone unanswered in favor of your smiling face staring back at him—his wallpaper from ages ago. It’s the most recent picture he has of you and he hasn’t had the guts to change it yet.

He finds himself wondering if your hair still looks like that, if your smiles are still as bright or if your eyes still sparkle without him. If your laughter is the same or different now that you’re no longer hanging around him, Rhys, and Azriel. He wants to know if you still wear the sweatshirt you stole from him on your first date, or his shirts to bed, or his socks because they were much more comfortable and cozy than yours. He never believed that, but seeing you in them is one of his favorite things.

Was one of his favorite things.

Cassian puts his head in his hands, trying to shut out the memory of you. His head is spinning a little, but if he’s still thinking about you it means he hasn’t had enough.

He’s about to order another when two men sidle up to his side. It takes him a moment to clear his vision, a harsh blink, then two, and it’s then that Cassian can focus on who stands before him.

Tomas and Grayson.

Both victims of an Aercheron breakup.

Both fucking pricks.

“Those Archeron sisters are fucking bitches, man,” Tomas claps him on the shoulder in greeting. Cassian’s fingers tighten around his glass and his jaw clenches tightly. He doesn’t want to be around these two. He’d seen Tomas and Nesta when they were together, how he’d been trying to drag her upstairs at a party after she’d had one too many. Gwyn and Emerie had come running up to you and Cassian, begging him for help.

He can’t be surprised that Tomas doesn’t remember the incident, since he’d knocked him out cold. Nesta was furious with him either way, not because he’d stopped the man, but because she’d been clutching a vase in her hand and wanted the final hit.

The incident didn’t help Cassian get on her good side.

And Grayson, the boy who vowed to marry Elain one day, then cheated on her with some girl from the next town over. It was when they were freshman in high school, so no one really thought they would last forever anyway. Well, except for Elain, but the cheating had been messy, and she’d broken up with him only to find Lucien soon after, the both of them inseparable to this day.

“Especially that one you were with,” Grayson adds, and Cassian knows they know your name. “She doesn’t like anyone, dude, don’t take it to heart.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Cassian grits, shouldering Tomas’ hand away, “And get the fuck off of me.”

“Woah, bro,” Tomas responds, holding his hands up in surrender. His drink sloshes over the edge of his glass a little, and it catches Cassian’s attention. He’s drinking a sex on the beach for fuck’s sake. He needs them to go away. Now. “Just stating the facts.”

Ire grinds his bones, streams through his body like snakes, coiling around him tighter and tighter until he’s so close to losing his grip on his anger that the glass cracks in his hand. It’s not shattered yet, but it just might, and he catches the spearing eyes of the bartender, flicking to Rita who’s working down the bar, before settling on his again, softly shaking her head.

He blows out a breath, letting the glass drop to the counter with a thud. Cassian shoves from his seat, stumbling a little, and he doesn’t like the way that both of the men flank him. He feels like a trapped dog, and he’s just waiting to snap.

“S’not facts,” Cassian slurs. The room spins, and he doesn’t realize how much he’s had to drink until this very moment, because the two men in front of them become four and then two and then four again, exchanging smirks with each other, ready to poke the beast. “She’s the best.”

“Not from what I’ve seen,” Grayson says, and Cassian never liked this kid. His voice is fucking gating, grinding on his brain in the worst way. “You should hear the shit she does for Eris now that she’s dropped your dumbass.”

Grayson doesn’t see Cassian’s fist coming, but he sure as fuck feels it, even if it only clips his jaw because Cassian’s swaying backwards, the alcohol skewing his momentum. It makes the drink in his hand spill, glass shattering on the floor, and the next thing Cassian knows, Tomas’s fist is coming straight for his face.

He hardly feels the punch land, either because the prick is weak as fuck of because he’s had one too many. Cassian doesn’t feel his lip splitting open, catching on his teeth, nor does he taste the blood bursting into his mouth. He grins like a feral dog as he rights his balance, more than ready for a fight.

The bartender and Rita are yelling, and she’s whipping her towel across the bar in their direction, threatening something about calling the police but none of the three young men listen. Cassian’s already tucking in, a shot aimed straight for Grayson’s stomach. A cheap one, but it makes the little bitch bend over, groaning in agony, and Cassian feels triumphant for a moment before someone’s trying to pull him away.

Cassian’s nowhere near ready to stop, though, shoving the man behind him off. When he turns back to the two assholes making his shitty night worse, Tomas tosses Grayson’s drink in his face. The fruity alcohol burns slightly, stinging the split of his lip, but Cassian only raises a brow.

“That all you got, you fucking pussy?”

He catches the way their wide gazes go from his pulled back fist to over his shoulder as the door bangs open, then to each other, before they cower away from him, smirks hidden as they duck their chins.

“Cassian,” a deep voice calls over his shoulder. It’s one he’s too familiar with. One that he hates more than this gods damned break-up.

Slowly, he lowers his fist, teetering around on his heel. Devlin stands behind him, decked out in his pristine police uniform. He has one hand on his hip. The butt of his gun glints in the lowlights of the bar. The other is on his walkie, speaking softly into it and Cassian’s stomach drops. He knows those words cutting through his drunken haze.

Devlin’s going to take him in.

Fuck his fucking life.

“Turn around, and put your hands behind your back,” Devlin says, dropping his hand from his walkie-talkie to the cuffs at his belt. His face is hard but Cassian can see the mirth swimming in his eyes clear as day. “I’m sure you know the drill by now.”

He does. It’s not the first time he’s been taken down to the station for fighting. Rhys, Az, and he have gotten caught for spray painting city buildings, underage drinking, fist-fights after school—normal small town shenanigans that almost everyone’s participated in once or twice.

He turns around, doesn’t resist as Devlin clips the metal around his wrists unnecessarily tight. Tomas and Gayson share matching smiles, and the younger asshole has his phone out, recording the events. Cassian bares his teeth, knowing that they’re going to blast it on social media for everyone in town to see.

If you catch a look at it, it will only solidify your decision to break up with him.

He curses at them, but it does nothing. Devlin drags him from the bar by the scruff of his neck and shoves him outside. He’s met with a facefull of rain and the flashing red and blue of the police car sitting out front. They’re so bright they’re blinding, and he stumbles when Devlin pushes him forward, opening the door for him so he can slide into the familiar backseat.

The ride down to the station is silent, except for the soft sounds of the transmitter radio. The town is pretty quiet tonight, so far, so the night must still be young. The streetlights glow red and green as they pass, and Cassian thinks that he should’ve just gone home and gone to bed, wallowing in his sad life. If he’d done so he wouldn’t be in handcuffs, on his way to the police station, still thinking about you. Always thinking about you.

Devlin puts the car in park and leads him into the station. Balthazar is sitting at his desk, feet propped on top as he pushes off his paperwork a little longer in favor of snacking on a pack of powdered donuts from the vending machine.

“Cass?” he questions, boots thudding loudly on the linoleum as he stands from his chair. He licks the white around his mouth, and normally, it might make Cassian smile, seeing his old campmate looking like a deer caught in headlights, but he’s in no mood to laugh right now. “What happened now?”

“Bar fight,” Devlin grunts, searching him for his things. He pulls out his wallet, flat and sad, and a hard candy he stole from Helion’s desk on his way out of work. “Where’s your phone, kid?”

Cassian’s heart swoops and he’s twisting around so frantically that Devlin takes a step back, hand going straight to the weapon holstered at his hip. “What do you mean? It’s not in my pocket?”

“Son, if it’s not anywhere I can feel it, it’s not here. Unless you’ve shoved it up your ass,” Devlin grinds out, mouth flat.

Cassian rolls his eyes. He should be telling Devlin to stick his head up there to find it, but he’s too worried about his phone. What if you call him back? He bites back, “You left it at the fucking bar, then.”

“I didn’t leave shit,” the officer responds, his voice grating on Cassian’s nerves. It makes his fingers curl into fists, his hazel eyes glaring daggers at the stupid cop in front of him. “I’m not the one who didn’t make sure I had all my shit with me before starting a brawl.”

He tugs him roughly by the arms to one of the cells. Cassian’s shoulders pinch and his hands are going numb from how tightly the handcuffs are around his wrists. He growls, letting the police officer corral him through the door, pretending he’s broken the wild beast for the night.

“I didn’t start it. It was those fucking pricks in front of me.”

Devlin hums, unlocking the cuffs through the bars. “And how many times have I heard that one before?”

Too many. Always too many.

Cassian huffs, choosing not to respond. Devlin won’t believe him anyway, and he’ll be stuck here for hours in his wet clothes in this freezing jail cell until he’s sobered up or someone comes to get him.

He wonders if Tomas and Gayson have stolen his phone.

“You may as well make yourself comfortable,” Devlin snaps, and the click of the door locking rings in his head. “Think over what you’ve done.”

Cassian wants to spit at him, but he keeps his jaw locked tightly, glaring instead. The look rolls off of Devlin’s shoulders with ease, used to the looks the townies give him for protecting their citizens, and the officer leaves him without a second glance.

Balthazar steps up to the bars, a concerned look on his face. Cassian doesn’t want pity right now, he wants to be left the fuck alone. He turns away, all but collapsing on the metal bench, leaning against the wall and tipping his head back with a long sigh.

“Who can we call, Cass?”

“You mean while Devlin writes up his report?” He laughs but there’s no humor in it. “I’ll be here for hours, B, you know how he is.”

Balthazar gives him a look that tells him to cut the shit, and Cassian sighs.

“Call (Y/N).”

The rookie's brows shoot straight into his hairline. “You sure about that?”

Cassian peeks open an eye to glare. “If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t have asked it.”

Balthazar nods, leaving him alone to make the call. If you won’t answer his messages, maybe you’ll answer the stations. He’s not in his right mind, of this he knows, but he misses you so deeply he’s desperate to hear your voice.

Cassian doesn’t know how long he sits there. The bench is uncomfortable and cold underneath his soaked pants. It helps to sober him a little, but his limbs are trembling with the iciness running through them. The tips of his fingers are white, and his jaw aches from keeping clenched so tightly shut so his teeth don’t shatter.

Eventually, Devlin returns with his clipboard, leaning against the wall and watching him like he’s a fucking zoo animal that had to be tranquilized and brought in. The officer looks like he’s actually filling out the paperwork in his hands, but Cassian knows the fucker isn’t. He fucking hates him, so he glares through the bars and crosses his arms over his chest.

Balthazar’s presence breaks the glaring contest. His cheeks are pink, and he looks between them both, uneasily shifting on his feet.

“Spit it out, B,” Cassian sighs, because his night can’t possibly get any worse than this.

Balthazar wrings his fingers together. “(Y/N)...she didn’t answer.”

Okay, maybe it can get worse.

“What?” he asks, voice flat. Of course there was a chance that you wouldn’t pick up the phone call, but from the police? Cassian is thoroughly surprised. “She didn’t answer?”

“Well, she did,” Balthazar corrects, looking anywhere but at him. He checks out the wet spot in the ceiling tiles, the chipping paint on the wall. Someone should really fix that. Devlin watches his partner, brows furrowed. He looks just as confused as Cassian feels. “But she, uh, hung up when I mentioned your name.”

Cassian blinks, registering his friends' words. You answered, and you hung up. On the police. He feels like he’s been slapped in the face or shot in the chest or something equally as painful. Like his heart has been torn out of his body all over again. Even more so when Devlin throws his head back, wolf-whistling.

“Now that is fucked up,” he comments, turning to Cassian who sits frozen, staring at Balthazar. “You must’ve fucked up good, huh, kid?”

Cassian doesn’t even have it in him to growl at the prick cop who shakes his head, stalking away.

“Cass?” Balth asks, timidly stepping up to the bars of his cell. “Do you want me to call Mr. Cunningham? Or perhaps Ms. Teller?”

“No,” he answers gruffly, finally snapping from his stupor. He doesn’t want him calling Rhysand’s father or Azriel’s mother. He’d run rampant between their houses when he was younger, but he’d never really belonged with either family. Rhysand’s father was too strict, and he couldn’t get into any trouble there. Dolian had never liked him and most likely never will, which is fine, because Cassian feels the exact same way. And he wouldn’t dare allow Balthazar to call Pax Teller. She’s probably in bed right now anyway, the sweet woman. Cassian definitely doesn’t want to see the look in her pitying gaze, matching her sons. He doesn’t want the lecture, the parental support he’s never wanted and never had.

“Helion?” the police officer presses, worriedly. At least if Cassian is here, under their watch, he won’t get himself into more trouble.

But still, Cassian’s mind whirls. He doesn’t want Balth to call a fucking soul. Not Rhysand, not Azriel, especially not his boss. He doesn’t want him calling anyone. He wants to be left alone to wallow in the swirling of his alcohol riddled mind, the thoughts of you picking up the phone, finding out what the call was about, and then hanging up on repeat in his head.

“Maybe I can talk to her,” he says gruffly, grasping onto the tiny shred of hope he hasn’t lost yet.

Someday, when you are back in his arms, he will remember how strong he was in this moment, not willing to give you up. Maybe you’ve hung up because you thought it was a prank call. “Let’s wait, she’ll call back.”

“Cass, are you a danger to yourself?” Balth asks like he hates to do it, but he’s worried about the man sitting in his jailhouse. Ever since he’s known Cassian, he’s never seen him act like this. He was always bubbly, a permanent smile on his face, laughter in his eyes. This Cassian…he doesn’t even recognize.

“Fuck that, B. Let me call.”

“I can’t let you do that,” Balthazar shakes his head.

“I swear she’ll call me back,” he presses, hopeful. His head is thudding dully and the bright lights are making his head pound a little. They can wait for your call in the dark, right?

“Cassian,” the way Balthazar says his name, dripping with pity, it shakes him to his core. “Why do you do this to yourself?”

It hits him like a fucking semi-truck. He lets his body slump. He can hardly feel it now, numb with the thought of you totally abandoning him. You aren’t together, you don’t have to come swooping in, saving him. You’re not his job anymore.

Yet another reason why you were right to leave him.

Will he ever learn?

#cassian #cassian au #cass x reader #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #small town cassian #modern!cassian #Spotify

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tinypixl · 6 months

Text

Inspired by Vrelnir saying that Harper was originally supposed to track down asylum escapee PC's on the blogspot a while ago, so here's a lil scene for how I imagine this could have gone (with a tiny sprinkle of wish fulfillment✨)

@pip-n-chips come get yo food, this was motivated by you digging up that old-ass ask 👀

Warnings/Additional Info: m!Harper, no smut sry, Harper being Harper, stalking, vomit mention, wobbly writing, implied past/future SA, traumatized PC, drugs, kidnapping, a tiny sprinkle of yandere

"...And remember, ladies and gentlemen," Harper said sternly, his hands folded behind his back: "You are dealing with a very disturbed and possibly confused individual that is quite capable of harming others as well as themselves."

Harper now finally turned to face the group of orderlies behind him with an unreadable expression. He paused for a few seconds, letting his words set in before continuing: "That being said, it is of upmost importance that you do not underestimate the patients intellectual capacity," Harpers expression remained unreadable but he visibly clenched his teeth, remembering how he himself had so stupidly miscalculated that sharp wit of yours.

"...Especially not after the incident that they caused a few days ago, which started this whole situation in the first place. The ones of you working in the asylum will know the full extend."

Some of the orderlies exchanged confused glances, the others knew better.

Harper turned around again and took a few steps forward. He stopped infront of a desk and picked up a piece of paper. It was a poster. A poster of you, with glazed, terror-stricken eyes. It had been taken when you first came to the asylum, now printed out as a warning to the townfolk (at least, that's the excuse he used in this case all the time: the safety of the townfolk...)

He inspected it incrediously, before swiftly fetching it as he spoke up once more: "I not only want you to be on the lookout for anyone entering and leaving the Nightingale hospital, I want you to keep an eye on the whole town, especially on Domus street. We've talked about the benefits those who'll retrieve this patient will recieve."

Harper looked upon that beautiful poster of yours once more before turning his head towards the orderlies one last time, the soft smile he usually wears had returned to his features.

"That was all, don't forget it," he remarked mannerly but one would've been reckless to ignore the discreet undertone of his voice.

"You are dismissed."

Orderlies began to shuffle out of the room. Harper made sure to wait until the last one left, the door slamming close before he returned his attention to the poster.

The dark room was dead quiet now with the only light peaking in through the thin lines of the shut blinds.

Harpers thumb gently brushed over the cheek of your image as he only took in your haunted expression for a moment. Then, he moved his arm to put it back on the desk again but stopped short of it's surface. Instead, he folded it three times and put it in the right pocket of his doctor's coat for later. It's not the first copy he lended for personal use but it's okay, he made enough for it not to make a difference.

To his suprise, he actually found himself feeling quite giddy today. It was certainly a big improvement from last weeks mood.

That being said, he still chastised himself for his embarrassing underestimation of your character. After all, it was extremely significant for his profession to be wary and watchful. But you were always so unassuming. Harper had carelessly mistaken your quietness as flustered shyness, maybe even submission. A mistake, that had made him want to rip his hair out when it finally hit him.

Your mind's stubborn refusal of his hypnosis attempts should've been a major red flag for that but then again, you'd never made the impression of an unruly patient who was plotting something. You weren't really popular with the other patients, mostly keeping to yourself and studying. You never resisted the rest of the treatment, never attacked him, always looking at him with those big innocent doe eyes-

Harper slammed his hands on the desk in front of him, some of his irritation returning accompanied by an odd fluttering in his stomach.

That little plan of yours had set into motion about two months ago, he reckoned. He recalled the view in front of him, of the flimsy hospital gown barely covering your supple body and how you'd obeyed his command to sit on his lap without any protests. The way your plush thighs had pressed against his own...

He could still feel the shivers go right into his crotch thinking about it... And how you'd kissed him then... Your soft lips hungrily bruising his, wet little tongue peaking into his mouth. So eager, so devoted... He really thought then that you'd lusted for him in the same vain that he had for you for so, so long.

A shaky breath came through Harper's slightly parted mouth. He wasn't entirely sure if you'd taken his keycard then or after he had you bend over his desk but it was gone in the evening. He'd spend the entirety of that day flushed with his heart pumping, he hadn't thought much of it going missing, as he'd also visited the farm not too long after. There was a spare he'd kept after all so it didn't matter much to him, thinking it just fell out in his lust-filled stupor...

Imagine his horror when he'd gotten all the patients back under control during that incident and you were suddenly missing. He'd even been worried at first that you'd gotten attacked and were lying somewhere, hurt. The security footage disproved that rather quickly. None of the orderlies had been able to find, let alone retrieve you from the surrounding area.

He'd spend that whole evening looking for you, and the entire night looking through hours upon hours of security footage. You'd entered the security room the same evening you'd stolen his keycard. That had also been when your frequent studying habit started. Every single damn textbook you'd used had been looked through by him that night. Oh you smart, slippery little thing. You'd been trying to figure out how to manipulate the control panel all this time...

A uncharacteristic grin formed on Harper's lips, his giddiness returning. Right, you were smart and you'd tricked him. He gave you that. But you were also all alone. Sure, he couldn't really waltz into Bailey's territory to get you back, you were still his ward which he hated, he should be the one in control, it wasn't enough to desperately pull on your delicate strings-

But you also wouldn't be able to hide in the orphanage forever. Eventually, you would have to resume your everyday life and then it would only be a matter of time.

Harper glanced into the asylum's yard through the cracks of the blinds, watching all the small moving figures.

It would only be a matter of time before he got you back.

A few small knocks rang against your door. The noise didn't startle you too much anymore, you'd gotten used to it pretty quickly after coming back. Despite this, it seemed a bit different today. With how early it was you first thought that it had been Bailey but the softness of the knocks contradicted that assumption.

For another moment, you just laid there, staring up at the ceiling before exhaling and dragging yourself to your dingy bedroom door.

Through the little gap, the flickering light of the hallway as well as two big, round, sympathetic eyes greeted you. Robin. She wore that small apologetic smile, with her brows softly knitted over her eyes. You adored that expression as much as you loathed it sometimes, it made you feel so pitied...

"Hey, how are you feeling?", Robin inquired carefully.

Stuttering, you could only give her a rather vague answer: "Umm I... I d-don't know I... think I'm okay...?"

"Do you think that... Maybe you'll be able to go to school again? No pressure of course! I'm just... A bit worried that you'll maybe miss too many hours. Don't want you to get written up or anything.."

Sweat collected on your hands that you tried to wipe on your pyjama pants. Robin was right but... You were still a bit... skeptical about assuming that you're in the clear just because you escaped but you couldn't tell her that.

Robin noticed your inner tutmoil and chimed in once more: "Of course, I'd walk with you to and from school! Just like you did when I was...", she trailed off.

Your mouth felt dry, trying to force out an answer.

"... Okay. I'll get ready."

Robin beamed at you before telling you to come to her room when you were done. It's fine you figured, you couldn't hide in the orphanage forever.

It was, in fact, not fine. But you didn't figure that out soon enough, the days after you'd gone to school again running just too smoothly. Despite looking over your shoulder, you never saw anyone watching. On the third day you even felt save enough to start to go to work on your own again.

Now, hiding in an alleyway beside two dumpsters in the dead of night, you noticed your slip-up.

Your hands were clutching a poster that you had ripped off the wall behind you minutes prior and probably the reason why you were in this situation in the first place. Your face was plastered on top. On the bottom it read: 'Warning! Dangerous asylum escapee; Caution is advised' along with a number to call about your last whereabouts. You had never been a danger to other people and still weren't but you knew the truth didn't matter in this town. Not when it was so easy for someone sneaky and powerful enough to just twist it to their advantage.

It was now abundantly clear to you where the orderlies you'd ran from earlier came from. Why didn't any of those posters catch your attention before?

Quietly, you huddled further into yourself beside the two dumpsters, trying to keep it together.

The alley lead into a dead-end but maybe, just maybe you were lucky and they hadn't seen you go in. You assumed they were still searching the surrounding area, so if you were quiet enough-

"Are you certain they went this way? You haven't found any trace of them yet."

You almost choked on the air that you were trying to inhale, hands instantly clasping over your mouth as you tried to keep yourself from hyperventilating. Of course, you'd recognize that smooth almost plummy voice instantly. You briefly wondered why he'd make such a big effort of showing up himself to bring you back but then again, the poster clutched in your hands over your mouth should've been enough prove to you that he was very serious about this.

A group of footsteps ripped you out of your thoughts and made your heart jump in terror. They were still rather distant but... definitely in the alleyway you were hiding in.

"100% sure Doctor, 'seen them go in this direction myself. We've searched any possible place they might've went. They have to be in here."

Oh god, you felt like you were going to throw up. The footsteps came closer, you could hear it. The ones closest to you sounded calm as they could be. Unrushed, taking their sweet time before they suddenly stopped.

"Alright. Let me handle this.", Harper's voice rang out once more. Now you could only hear those calm, slow footsteps coming closer and closer. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes.

Your name being called out gingerly sent a cold shiver down your spine. Harper's voice had taken on a soothing tone, the same one he used to play-pretend a normal doctor, the same one he used to hypnotise people:"... You don't have to be afraid any longer. I'm here to help you!"

At this point, you had completely given up on trying to control your breathing. Instead trying to hold you breath as much as could to prevent a full-blown panic attack. Prey, you felt like cornered prey.

"Please don't make this so hard on the both of us. I can help you. You'll feel so much better with regular treatment, I promise..."

Tears now ran down your cheeks freely as it took everything in you not to sob in pure horror. Despite your heartbeat pounding in your ears you heard clearly that his voice had started to shake slightly; giddy with anticipation. You needed to get out of here... You needed to get out of here!

"Someone in your predicament shouldn't be without help for so long...", his voice became more breathy as he closed in on your hiding spot.

"We both know that I know what's best for you..", the edge of lust in it was now unmistakeable. He was getting off on this.

You bit down on your tongue, trying to still your quivering form. You'd captivated the dear doctor, so much more than you could have known that you did and now, you'd pay gravely for your mistake-

"Got you."

A bloodcurdling scream tore out of your throat when his flushed, panting face was suddenly inches away from yours. It was instantly muffled by a chloroform-drenched rag. In your adrenaline-fueled desperation, you tore on his arm and pulled him down with you.

It took Harper by suprise and he crashed down on his knees, which gave you the chance to draw in a last-minute breath before wasting no more time to get to your feet to bolt out of the alley.

Something brushed over the hood of your jacket, trying to grasp ahold of it but failing as you ran, ran, ran

right into the arms of the two orderlies, to your unfortune.

"Not so fast!", one of them commanded. You tugged against them but they have you held tightly by both arms.

The clicking sound of dress shoes against concrete rang in your ears. You lifted your head to Doctor Harper's approaching figure.

Finally, the loud sob you'd been holding in slipped from you. You started struggling even harder against the two orderlies, nauseous with pure dread.

"Easy there kid.", one of the oderlies told you but you couldn't hear them, your mind preoccupied with primal fear.

Harper steps in front of you, with his usual soft, creepy smile.

"Sshhh..." Harper gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before firmly grasping your chin. His thumb lightly stroking it.

"Don't worry, I know what you need. I know that you need me."

With that, he held the rag to your face tightly as he continued to shush your muffled cries.

His thumb never leaving the softness of your cheek until your lights went out.

#degrees of lewdity #harper the doctor #i have offically escaped from the adhd beast #ok post of the year now on to post nothing for the next six months or so

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burntheedges · 13 days

Text

Passing Notes: New

Javier Peña x f!reader | 1.8k words | Passing Notes masterlist

summary: Fed up with unpacking, you decide to get out and explore your new town a little bit. There’s a handsome surprise awaiting you at lunch.

a/n: happy @swiftiscruff gift exchange, Megan! @goodwithcheese I hope you like this little meet cute with Javi. There’s texting so I sort of vaguely shifted him forward in time a bit.

tags/warnings: flirting, food and drink mention, meet cute, pet name (hermosa), reader walks and drives, otherwise not described

...

On your third day in your new town, you decided it was time to venture out.

You’d barely gotten started on unpacking and the pile of still-sealed boxes in your living room taunted you as you breezed past them, keys in hand. You knew you should probably stay and at least try to get everything put away before you started your new job the next week. But after two full days of organizing and breaking down boxes you couldn’t face another minute of staring at your new walls.

You had to go somewhere. Anywhere. You hopped in your car and remembered that restaurant you’d seen on the way into town. It was only a mile or so away, and it was probably a good idea to get a feel for the neighborhood by checking out the local spots. See if their lunch was any good. Right?

As you pulled into the parking lot, though, you felt your shoulders hunch up by your ears. You wanted to get out, sure, but suddenly you realized you were going to have to show your face in front of a bunch of strangers, in a relatively small town, where you were obviously new.

You shook your head and took a deep breath. There was nothing for it. You had to get out sometime, they’d all see you sooner or later. Might as well be now. You twisted your hands around the steering wheel as you parked and took it in.

It was cute, at least. Very ‘50s, with a silver facade. You could see slightly run-down red cushions on the booths inside and a bartop by the kitchen service window with round silver stools arranged in front of it.

You nodded to yourself and got out of your car, shaking your arms out. As you walked up to the door you decided you’d sit at the bar. That’s what people eating alone did, right? In the movies they did, anyway.

“Welcome!” The server behind the bar greeted you and you noticed there wasn’t a host stand. “Come on in,” she said, waving you forward. “You want a booth or you just gonna sit up here?” She gestured at the empty bar and you nodded. “Great. Coffee?”

You nodded again, even though drinking coffee at this time of day might come back to haunt you later. She was already pouring it as you sat in front of her on a cushioned stool. She slid the mug in front of you and you read her name tag – Janice.

“New in town?” She asked as she slid a menu towards you.

You smiled, hesitant. “Is it obvious?”

Janice laughed good-naturedly. “No, honey, it’s just that I’ve lived here my whole life and know everybody already. Welcome! I’ll be back to take your order in a minute.”

You nodded and thanked her. The menu was bigger than you’d expected and it took you a minute to figure out what to order. By the time you were done and looked up again you realized more people had come in and it was starting to fill up with the lunch rush.

There were a couple of new families and groups in booths, but the bar seating especially was getting more crowded and somehow you’d been too engrossed in the menu to notice. Three old men who’d obviously come together and had the air of regulars were laughing together down at one end of the bar. Other than a couple of women down at the opposite end, everyone else was on their own.

The one who immediately caught your eye seemed to be alone, anyway.

He was two stools away, to your left. You had no idea how you’d missed his entrance because you were certainly looking now. You let your gaze dance over him out of the corner of your eye, trying to keep your face forward so he wouldn’t notice. He was looking away from you, talking to Janice, so you took the opportunity to look a little more closely.

He was wearing worn-in cowboy boots, tight jeans, and a blue button up short-sleeve shirt that your eyes lingered on, taking in the way the sleeves clung to his biceps. His hair was neat and thick, with a bit of curl to the ends. He had a well-trimmed mustache and a jawline that made something inside of you start to squirm.

And he was looking at you. Shit.

You realized as soon as your eyes returned to his face that his were already waiting for you. He had a little smirk playing at the corner of his mouth that you only barely glimpsed before turning away, embarrassed. You kept your eyes forward, cheeks burning, but you could feel him looking at you. You wondered if he was checking you out the same way you’d just done to him. You resisted the urge to straighten your clothes.

“Here’s your coffee, Javi.” Janice returned and turned to you. “Did you decide, honey?” You nodded and managed to give her your order with a mostly steady voice. “And I’ll bring you your regular.” She waved your menu at Javi as she said it. “Have you met our new arrival, Javi?” As she walked away she told him your name and you bit your lip.

Suddenly alone again, you were afraid to look at him. Was he still looking at you?

You let your eyes slip to your left and found his warm dark ones waiting for you again. He was smiling. You sucked in a small breath, but he was already moving. He turned towards you and propped his right boot up on the footrest of the stool between you.

“New in town, huh?”

The question made you huff out a laugh. “Yep. Janice clocked me immediately.”

He smiled at you and tilted his head. “Well, we all just know each other already. Town’s too small. I’m Javier. Call me Javi.” He reached out a hand for you to shake and you did, tentatively. His thumb brushed lightly over your wrist as he pulled away and you shivered. “Here for work?”

You nodded, and told him a little about your job that you’d be starting the following week. He knew the place, and some of the people there, and told you so.

“I’m a rancher, just outside of town.” He gestured towards the west of town and you nodded. “Had to come in town this morning to pick up some supplies.”

Janice appeared with your food and informed you that Javier, aka Agent Peña, apparently used to work for the DEA as well.

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Well, sounds fancy, Agent Peña.” He shook his head, furrowing his brow.

“Nah, nothing special.” You could tell the answer might be more complicated than that, but didn’t push.

He cleared his throat. “You know anyone in town?” You shook your head and he ran his thumb along his bottom lip as he considered you. “Well, I’m happy to give you a tour. Show you all the good spots.” He winked.

You smiled at him and let your gaze drop and linger on the open neck of his collared shirt again. When you met his eyes he was smirking at you. “Is that right?” He nodded. “Well, I think I might enjoy that.”

He slid his plate and coffee mug towards you and then followed, settling himself onto the stool immediately to your left. “Hermosa, I know I’ll enjoy it.”

Javi spent the next 15 minutes or so giving you an overview of the town’s highlights (and not a little of the recent gossip, too).

Around the time he was finishing off his coffee, he reached over to brush his fingers lightly against the back of your left hand. “Can I get your number? So we can schedule that tour.” He winked.

You smiled, charmed. “You put the moves on every new arrival, Javier Peña?”

He kept his eyes locked on yours as he shook his head. “No, and you can ask anyone. They’ll tell you the same. I’m the town grump.”

You breathed a laugh, a little incredulous. Him, a grump? He’d done nothing but flirt in the 20 minutes you’d known him so far. “Sure you are.” You knew you sounded skeptical, but come on.

He nodded, grinning wider. “I am.”

You shrugged. “Don’t seem much like a grump to me.”

Javi leaned in, closer than he had so far, and whispered in your ear. “Got no reason to be grumpy with you, hermosa. You brightened my day the moment I walked in here and saw you.”

You eyed him, unconvinced. “What makes me so special?”

He ran the back of his fingers down your arm and you felt goosebumps form in his wake as he replied, “hard to be a grump when a beautiful woman checks me out the way you did.”

Your mouth dropped open and you made an indignant sound. He grinned, unrepentant.

“Alright, Javier Peña. I’ll let you show me around.” You grabbed a napkin and wrote your number on it, then folded it and tucked it in the breast pocket of his shirt.

He perked up and winked. “I’ve got to get back out to the ranch, but are you busy this weekend?” You shook your head. He smiled and placed a hand on your shoulder as he stood. He squeezed gently. “Good. See you soon, hermosa.”

You watched him walk out of the diner, a bit breathless from the whole interaction – it was a nice view.

Janice cleared her throat behind you, shocking you out of your stare. You spun around to find her eyes were serious. “Careful with that one, honey.”

“Why’s that?” You were worried, suddenly, but hoped you weren’t about to find out he had a reputation for hitting on the new girl in town, despite what he’d said.

She shook her head. “I don’t mean for you. I mean for him. He’s had a rough time. He likes to act all tough, but that boy’s soft as a marshmallow inside.” She clicked her tongue. “Don’t let him fool you.”

She moved away and you looked thoughtfully down at your breakfast. You’d gotten way more than you bargained for, with this spur-of-the-moment escape from your house. But the mystery of town-grump-slash-marshmallow Javier Peña had captured your attention and you didn’t think you’d be looking away any time soon.

As you were standing up to leave a while later, your phone buzzed in your pocket and you grinned at the message you found waiting for you.

[unknown number]: hey there. You free on Saturday? The Town Grump Tour Company opens at 8am.

You saved his number and typed out your reply.

you: maybe you’re grumpy because you’re getting up so early on the weekend

Javi TG: that’s the life of a rancher, hermosa.

You smiled, already looking forward to Saturday.

#PPCUGiftExchange2024 #javier peña x reader #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x you #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fic #x reader #bte friendship exchange

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kiiwiigii · 8 months

Text

New Life

Demetri x Fem!Reader

Summary: You were new to this life. A life sustained on blood. There were only two rules you had been taught: 1. Don't expose your kind. 2. Never attract the attention of the Volturi.

Warnings:

Kinda-sorta-fluff?

Angsty-ish

Word Count: 1400+

Requested?:Yes! @pooka167 I hope you like it!

Heya, thanks for adding me to your taglist! Could I please request a demetri fic (he currently has a chokehold on me, and I blame my adhd brain for picking the most random things to fixate on🤣) where he meets them by chance while on his way back from a mission for the volturi and the reader is a newborn vampire who's very confused about being a vampire but also a little nervous as the person who turned them had explained the volturi and stuff and they freak out thinking they broke a rule without realising it and Demetri reassures them and takes them back to volterra with him to be a part of the volturi? Thank you 💖💖

A/N: This was fun to write.

I was a mistake, he told me. He thought I was gifted. He thought I would make an excellent addition to his coven. The only thing, he said to me, was that at least I was pretty. And even then I was rather mediocre-looking by vampire standards.

I had wanted to cry then. But vampires can't cry of course. This- this man, had cursed me with an immortal life, only sustained by drinking the blood of others. I couldn't even kill myself if I wanted to. So now I was stuck. Forever nineteen and cursed with a burning in my throat that would never subside.

All because he thought I had been gifted.

Instead, I was about as ordinary as one could be. He had wasted his time seducing me. But I suppose time wasn't really relevant for someone who lived for eternity. And for someone who never slept.

That's what I missed the most from my old life. Sleep. I missed being able to turn off my brain. To dream. That and food. Sadly the smell of human food made me gag now. But the thought of taking a human life also made me queasy.

I had a rather substantial amount of control as a newborn. At least that's what I had been told. But in the 5 months I had been a vampire, I'd had my fair share of slip-ups.

Three weeks ago, Nathan finally decided I was useless and left me with one warning. Don't expose yourself or attract the attention of the Volturi.

He had made the consequences very clear if I were to do either.

Since then it had been a struggle. Finding a place to hide and keeping myself in check. I had a hard time taking the lives of innocents, so instead I turned to looking for criminals, which is easier than anyone would think.

But I had lost control twice. I squeezed my eyes shut at the thought. A had wiped out a whole family the second time. I wanted to gag as venom filled my mouth at the thought. I'd had a sense of mind to make it look like a house fire in the end and then fled the area.

I was in a new town now and had holed up in a warehouse for the night, the sounds of the water of the empty harbor lulled me into a sense of peace.

Until I heard footsteps.

My eyes popped open and my nose flared in alarm. If they were a human they would be dead. The burning in my throat was too much. My control was this close to snapping. I was suddenly on my haunches, hissing softly.

But... it wasn't a human, although whatever it was... smelled absolutely divine. I couldn't put my finger on the exact smell. Only that I really liked it. Pine mixed with... amber, maybe?

It had to be another vampire.

And it was.

"Well, what do we have here?"

My eyes widened at the sight of him. Outside of Nathan, I had never met another vampire. This man was beautiful, with dirty blonde hair, thin lips, and rather angular face. And his eyes were a stunning red.

And his voice...

I met his gaze, feeling a warmth spread through me. I couldn't remember the last time I had felt warmth.

I stood slowly, watching as he gazed at me, mouth slightly agape.

"I have waited centuries for you." He whispered, stunned.

My eyes widened in surprise, and I felt both flustered and confused. Then I caught sight of the necklace around his neck. An intricate 'V' crest.

If I had a beating heart I'm sure it would have slammed out of my chest. I flew backward into the wall, creating a human-shaped imprint before causing it to crumble around me.

The man looked shocked, holding his hands up in surrender.

"I- I promise I haven't done anything. I haven't exposed our kind- I burned- I made it look like a house fire. I promise there was nothing left."

He just gave me a confused look, approaching me cautiously, his hands still out until he was right before me. He squatted down next to me and I cringed away.

"You're not in trouble, love." His voice drifted over me soothingly.

I stared at him warily, despite my body's protests to relax.

"I'm not here to hurt you."

"But- but." My eyes glanced back down to the crest around his neck and he took notice. "Aren't you a part of the Volturi? Aren't you here about the family I killed last week? I'm so sorry-"

"Please relax. I'm not here to punish you for anything. I don't even know what you're talking about, love."

When I still wouldn't relax he held his hand out to me.

"I am Demetri. It is lovely to meet you...?"

I reluctantly took his hand, and if I had still been human I would have blushed violently when he kissed my hand.

"Y- Y/N." I stuttered.

"Y/N."

I really liked the way he said my name.

"Demetri?" A new, deeper voice sounded from behind this… Demetri.

I jumped and cursed myself for not being more aware.

"Just a moment, Felix. I have found something- someone extraordinary."

"Oh?"

Felix came into sight and my eyes nearly bugged out of my head. He was huge. Easily the biggest man I had ever seen. And my eyes didn't miss the golden crest hanging from his neck.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he scanned me. "How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"I mean in vampiric years. When were you changed?"

I paused, still eyeing him warily. Demetri gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

"Five months. I was changed five months ago,"

"Five months??" Demetri's mouth dropped open in surprise before snapping shut angrily.

I flinched backwards, taking my hand back. He caught himself and relaxed.

"I'm sorry, love. You have done nothing wrong. But why are you on your own? Where is your sire?"

"He left me."

"Left you?" Felix asked.

"Yes. Three weeks ago."

Demetri looked absolutely livid.

"He left you, a newborn, on their own?"

I chewed my lip and his eyes zeroed in on them, his beautiful red eyes darkening a little.

"Who is your sire? Why did he leave?" Felix murmured.

I looked down at my knees guiltily, picking at my worn jeans. Suddenly I was very aware of how disgusting I must appear to them. To Demetri. I shook my head, warmth filling me again at just the thought of him.

"Y/N?"

Demetri's hand appeared over my own, stopping my fidgeting.

"His name is Nathan. I'm not sure where he is now. He- he changed me because he thought I had a gift, but when- when it turned out I didn't…" I blinked harshly at the venom pooling in my eyes. "He left me. He only allows those that are gifted in his coven."

Demetri hissed angrily before taking a deep breath to calm himself. He clasped my hand and lifted it to his lips again. I sucked in a surprised breath myself.

"Why don't you come with Felix and me back to Volterra? We will welcome you with open arms, gift or not."

I looked at Demetri, his pleading eyes staring into my own. I had been warned about the Volturi, but here were two members of the coven who had shown me the most kindness since I had awoken into this new life.

"And it would mean the world to me. To have you there with me."

"You- you said that you had been waiting centuries for me." My voice was barely a whisper. "What does- what does that mean? What did you mean?"

Demetri and Felix shared a look before the latter began to walk away, perhaps to give us a semblance of privacy.

"What did your sire tell you about vampires? About our world?"

His thumb rubbed circles into my now open palm, a gentle caress that helped me finally relax.

"He explained the basics, like feeding and staying inconspicuous. He mentioned that some vampires have gifts… and about the Volturi." I met his eyes then.

"Nothing else?"

I shook my head and in a surprise move, he leaned forward and kissed me gently on the forehead. I felt my body begin to heat up a little.

"Then I have much to teach you, if you'll come back with me that is."

He was pleading. How could I say no? I thought of them leaving me here- of him leaving me and I couldn't stand the thought of it.

"Okay. I think I would like that."

Demetri grinned, and it was like my whole world was shining.

{Masterlist} // {Request Guidelines}

Taglist: @alecvolturi @belladonna-xox @birdiebeesblog @lack-lust-3r @pawspurpaw @pooka167 @rosedpetal @twilightlover2007

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#demetri volturi x reader #demetri x reader #volturi #reader insert #fanfic #twilight

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cleolinda · 3 months

Text

I am so fucking pissed. We’re hearing forecasts that we might get FIVE FUCKING INCHES OF SNOW overnight from Monday to Tuesday. In ALABAMA, where we have no snow removal equipment. Like I think we got one bag of sand for the whole town. No snow tires, I don’t even know what those are. This isn’t cute “Haha it’s just barely below freezing! Snowball fight!!!” snow. This is 14° Fuck (-11° Come the Fuck On) snow. FIVE INCHES? We get flurries and the city descends into madness.

What if we lose POWER. Everything runs off USB cord stuck in the outlet charging nowadays. This is why everyone used to run out and buy Milk Bread Batteries. Listen. I have this memory of the power going out during this wild snowstorm when I was a kid--I want to say it was Winter Storm '93. Ask anyone who lived in Alabama at the time. Like we had Desert Storm '92 the military operation one year and Winter Storm '93 the next. It was that serious in our minds, and I'm not sure you can blame us:

The storm dumped several inches of snow each hour on Birmingham, which ended up with officially 13 inches of snow.

Due to the high winds some parts of Birmingham reported drifts 5 to 6 feet deep. One state trooper reported that the roads were in the worst shape he had ever seen. "People can't tell what's road and what's not."

Low temperatures during the storm were in the 5-to-10 degree range on that Sunday.

IN A TOWN WHERE WE DON'T KNOW WHAT A SNOW PLOW IS. I think we had one for the entire county. Like I'm only kind of joking here.

And our power went out.

The snow was so heavy that it pulled down power lines either by its own weight, or by the tree branches its weight broke off. Meanwhile, the power at my house already went off every time a squirrel sneezed. I don't how many days this lasted; it was probably like, 2-3 days, but in my head, I was 14 years old boxed up with my family with no heat and it lasted two weeks. Maybe three years. The four of us slept in sleeping bags layered with quilts, huddled on the floor around a wood burning fire. (In the haunted house, no less.) The carpet was really nice, at least. We had a--do people still call them boomboxes? A big portable cassette player--battery-powered--with AM/FM radio. We listened to whatever TV shows were broadcast from the ABC station at night. We did have hot water; I took a lot of hot baths. We cooked food over the outdoor grill (which we moved to the comfortably large area under the deck, to hold off the falling snow), sometimes using aluminum foil as a kind of thin impromptu frying pan, and kept perishables like milk and meat in a cooler. Oh, did we have a bag of ice for the cooler? No, we used snow. God knows there was enough of it. Of course, I'm sure the refrigerator was perfectly serviceable even without power, because it was TEN DEGREES FUCK ALL.

I remember going outside a good bit and playing, as much as a teenager plays, in the snow with my seven-year-old sister. I remember that all the neighborhood kids got big rubber trashcan lids and used them as toboggans, going up to the top of the hill on our street and pretty successfully sledding down. Maybe it was "lmao snowball fight!!" snow when I was 14. I'm 45 now, and the cold makes me hurt. It makes me hurt all over. Maybe Winter Storm '24 will be a fun core memory for my nephew. I am pissed. And also charging all my electronics.

(ETA: It’s ‘24 now, isn’t it. My brain hasn’t clicked the date over yet. What is time.)

#me for some reason #long post

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kscheibles · 8 months

Text

e la vita ch. 1

content warnings: f! reader, drug mentions, drinking, emetophobia, bisexuality (homophobes and biphobes begone I will block u so fast)

word count: 3.8k

I didn’t want to be in Italy this summer.

That makes me sound ungrateful or something, but it’s the truth. Three months ago, I had planned to stay in Brooklyn with Claire all summer long. Hosting dinner parties, eating greasy breakfast sandwiches, dancing to old $1 records in our cramped apartment, picnicking in Prospect Park, and being totally, delusionally in love.

That was before things went south, she stopped trying and left me with more rent than I could possibly pay in the city. When Christina had first mentioned that a group of her friends was headed to Italy for the summer, I’d dismissed the possibility of going with them. Not only did I dread cohabitating with her wealthy, influencer friends who seemed to deal only in clout, I thought I’d be otherwise engaged. Weeks later, I’d gone back to her groveling, asking if I could sleep on the pull-out couch in Nina’s family villa for the summer. Luckily, the sofa was still available.

Now I sit at a wrought iron table – lease broken and all of my belongings sold to wealthy Manhattanites – in the warm yellow light of the Lombard sunset. Around me are chatty, outgoing girls, each more beautiful than the last. They gab about clubs and brands and boys. In the sea of Botox and iPhones, I cling to Christina like a life buoy. I push my tortellini around my plate to make it look like I have an interest in food, but I really don’t. I’m jet-lagged and uncomfortable. And even if that wasn’t the case, I’ve barely eaten since the breakup, relying on oat lattes and dirty water dogs to keep me alive.

“Try the pasta,” Christina jabs, “trust me, you’ll have a lot more fun this summer if you lean in.” I break the shell open with my fork revealing succulent ricotta curds and bright green spinach. The filing swims in a sauce of brown butter and fragrant tarragon but doesn’t affect me as it should. Nothing does anymore. The group’s conversation interrupts my train of thought.

“They’ve come every summer since the nineties, same as us,” says Nina, smirking at the girl to her left. “Hottest little accents you’ve ever heard, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Who is she talking about?” I whisper to Christina.

“The boys in the other house,” she says, “the one you see on your way up here.” Nina’s family’s home is at a higher altitude than the rest of the city, necessitating a laborious hike to the bottom to actually do anything while in town. I’m sure that they’d been sold on the privacy of the location, but its impracticality left me wanting. The only other villa nearby sat at the base of the lush green hills before the road disappeared into winding dirt.

Another girl chimes in, “I saw them last year at a dinner in the city. They’re cute, too,” she coos.

“I kissed George the summer I turned fifteen,” brags Nina and the whole table breaks into oohs and aahs. I usually have a shut-up-unless-spoken-to policy at group dinners, but I know Christitna is right. If I don’t lean in then the credit card debt I’d amassed to buy my plane ticket and the back problems I'm sure to contract from sleeping on a pull-out couch for a whole summer will have been for naught. Think of it as an acting exercise, I tell myself, a performance of the girl who is totally not hung up on her ex and excited for a fun summer with her friends.

“I’m sorry,” I interrupt, “who are these guys?”

“They’re in a band,” says Nina.

“Like a real one?” I ask. Years of living in New York have taught me that all bands are not, in fact, real ones. Nina laughs.

“You’re funny,” she muses, “yes, a real one. They’re like famous. We’ll go over eventually, they throw the best parties you can find around here. Get real drugs, too. Not just liters upon liters of Aperol, not that I mind that either.”

With my question sufficiently answered, I return quietly to my pasta, cutting each shell into impossibly smaller pieces until it’s rabbit food that will glide down my throat and do the hard job of nourishing me without any work on my part.

–

After dinner, I tuck into the pull-out couch in the villa’s spacious living room. The lack of A/C and the balmy summer air make it impossible to enjoy the luxurious wool blankets Nina’s family no doubt splurged on. I allow myself to eavesdrop on the elated sounds coming from upstairs: women confiding in each other, commiserating about their troubles, and shrieking excitedly at each other's successes.

I first try to doze off at 10:15, hoping that an early night will be exactly what I need and I’ll wake up refreshed and on Italian time. After an hour of staring at the popcorn ceilings and trying to suppress my crippling fear of missing out, I’ve tired my mind out enough to begin slipping toward sleep. I have fewer and fewer thoughts until I’m jolted by a hip-hop bassline. It resonates through the trundle bed and rebounds off my ribs, cozying itself into my heart. As I begin to come to, I recognize the chords of a house track that used to play at the girl bar Claire and I frequented in Green Point. The melody is warm and familiar and undeniably annoying. How loud must the music be for it to affect me so acutely even as I’m a few kilometers away from them?

I decide I’m pissed – and yes I decided. I’m freshly single, broke, jet-lagged, and fucking pissed at those entitled rich assholes. I slide my sandals on and head out down the hill in my sleep clothes.

I step outside onto the winding dirt road that leads the way to the boys’ home. The night is dark, lit by stars much brighter than I’m used to seeing in Brooklyn. I tilt my head back to look at them, trying to identify the big dipper. After a few seconds, I’m dizzy. I shake myself and trudge ahead, almost lulled into submission by the constant chirping of cicadas and the sweet fragrance of orange blossom that wafts off the bushes.

With each step I take towards the boys’ villa (what were their names again? Nina said one was called George), the music, electronic and fast-paced, becomes louder.

When I first knock on the faded wood door, I’m quite sure no one has heard me. I stand outside for a few minutes, contemplating whether I should knock again or cut my losses and return up the hill. I decide I may as well disrupt their party as some kind of karmic retribution for keeping me awake even as I’m exhausted from a transatlantic flight. I raise my fist and rap harshly at the door. A moment later, it flies open, revealing a curly-haired boy. Well, not boy, I decide as I inspect his features – lines decorate his forehead, and gray peeks out at me from within a ringlet that hangs over his eyes. He gives me a once over and can immediately tell I’m not here for the party.

“Can I help you?” he asks, annoyed. His accent lilts and falls over the words. All of a sudden, I feel insecure in my braless and plaid pajama-clad state. He’s beautiful – and exasperated by me. I double down on my own annoyance.

“Would you mind turning the music down?” I ask, still cordial, “I’m staying at the house up the way and I can’t get to sleep.”

The guy in front of me purses his lips and considers me for a moment. I feel itchy and uncomfortable. He’s looking at me like he can see through my clothes, to my soft hips and painted toes and peaked nipples.

“Let me show you around, gorgeous,” he smiles, “then maybe you won’t mind so much.” He grabs my wrist and yanks me into the party. A warmth covers me as I cross the threshold into the villa. The inside of the home smells like college: cheap weed, sweet sticky mixers, and sweat. My sandals stick slightly to the floor, reminding me that I really shouldn’t be here right now. Like the alcohol that’s been spilled on the ground is some great cosmic interference to convince me to go home and get the rest I ought to.

Suddenly, a big hand falls on the shoulder of the boy who’s pulling me by my limbs.

“Matty!” says the man. I can make out enough to see that he’s tall and devastatingly handsome.

“George!” the boy – Matty, I remind myself – drops my hand and fully embraces the bigger guy. “Was just showing…” he nods at me to introduce myself.

“Y/n.”

“Around,” Matty finishes. George gives me a once over.

“Did she just roll out of bed? Or get released from prison?”

“Y/n came to ask us to keep the noise down,” Matty declares with fake sincerity, “Not a partier, are ya love?”

“Under the right circumstances, I can be,” I retort. Matty and George’s eyebrows raise in amusement, faces breaking out in smiles. That sounded much more cunning in my head. Now I feel like a toy they’re playing with, winding me up to see what noises I make. It feels infantilizing. I’m uncomfortable, crawling in my skin; pride battered and desperate to go home as soon as it doesn’t look like I’m running away from a fight of my own picking. “I’d better be going actually,” I assert.

Matty puckers his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “I’ll show you out, princess.” It’s a sweet nickname but it tastes bitter out of his mouth. He seems to twist everything good and make it unbearable. I resent him for it. I trudge in front of Matty towards the door with steadfast focus. As I cross the threshold, I turn to meet his gaze.

“Thanks for nothing,” I say calmly. Matty breaks into a devilishly smug grin. His eyebrows tilt a little and his lips reveal a few crooked teeth at the bottom of his mouth.

“My pleasure, darlin’,” he says. I scoff and turn on my heels, leaving Matty in the dust.

–

The scent of freshly chopped garlic fills the kitchen as I stand in an assembly line of young women with cutting boards and chefs knives, each diligently chopping an ingredient for the bruschetta.

In front of me is a bunch of basil, perfectly fresh and green. I gently remove the leaves from the stem and create a pile in the middle of my board. It reminds me of when I would be tasked with raking the leaves as a kid. Too distracted by my childish whims, I would create more work for myself by piling the leaves on top of each other and taking a grandiose dive into them before scooping them up into a trash bag and discarding them. Each leaf was like a piece of confetti, a celebration of the season and of youth. Now I do these things to prove to myself that I’m young and that I can still conjure up that imaginative, playful nature if I try hard enough.

As I rock my knife back and forth over the soft leaves, Christina asks me where I was the night before.

“I came out around eleven to invite you upstairs, but I couldn’t find you,” she says.

Embarrassed, I train my eyes to the task at hand. This is not the group to look like a tattle-tale in front of. Actually, there’s very few groups in which that would fly. My penchant for playing God and divvying out karmic consequences to everyone whose path I cross is a part of my nature I’m not particularly fond of. I’m not keen to share it, especially around people who are still making up their minds about me. Despite my steadfast beliefs and borderline-outlandish behaviors, I maintain a fervent desire to be liked. It’s pathetic.

“I stepped out for some air,” I murmur.

“Really?” she nudges, “Because I didn’t see you on the porch.”

I turn my basil bunch 90 degrees in a flourish, beginning to chop it lengthwise.

“Fine, I couldn’t sleep because of the music,” I spit.

“And…” Christina has always been too good at getting me to reveal my true feelings. She goads me torturously until it’s easier to say what I’m thinking than to conceal it.

“And I went to ask them to turn the music down,” I finish, “There, are you happy?”

“Very,” she smiles.

I pick up the chopped basil, letting the pieces float through my fingers and deciding I need to chop them smaller, still. I whack at the pile haphazardly, ruining the lovely squares I meticulously crafted earlier.

“They didn’t turn it down, if you were wondering,” I pant, “Pricks.” Christina chuckles to herself.

“No one ever does.”

–

The music of the club is omnipresent as I enter hand in hand with Christina. On my feet are heels too high to be comfortable, but the perfect lift to accentuate my calves. As soon as I cross the threshold, I drag Christina to the bartender, ordering two negronis. We idle by the bar for a moment and I take in my surroundings, savoring the bitter aftertaste of my drink and the waltz of the lights that flicker and cover the dancefloor with reverie. I listen to the synths and flourishes of the melody that envelop my senses. I hadn’t expected to like the music, but the DJ is spinning disco and it just feels right: the cold Italian aperitif, the funky basslines, and the tranquil nighttime air. I almost wish I’d left my phone at home. Nights like these aren’t compatible with phones anyway. The atmosphere feels like a relic of a bygone era, full of free love and intoxication.

Nina and a friend of hers find Christina and me at the bar and run up to us with inebriated bravado. “You guys made it!” she squeals. Little does she know we were pre-gaming at the villa in anticipation of this exact moment. I couldn’t handle Nina while sober tonight, that much I was absolutely sure of. It also didn’t help that I was alone – for the first time in several years – in a romantic foreign country without the girl whom I still loved. As unhealthy as it was, alcohol made that reality hurt a bit less. Nina grabs my hands and leads Christina and me away from the bar.

“I need to introduce you to the DJs!” Nina exclaims. I glance at Christina to communicate that no, I’m not particularly enthused at the prospect of meeting some Eurotrash guy whose head is shaved and whose torso is covered in Gucci logos. She returns the glance, silently begging me to behave. I relent.

Nina leads us around the side of the floor to some kind of dark stairwell. Rationally, I should be scared of being kidnapped but my drunken stupor inspires more carelessness than I would usually indulge in. I watch the sway of Christina’s hips and follow her like a lost puppy. Finally, we reach the top and the DJ deck is revealed. It’s shadowy and hazy. To the left is a corner booth with a straight couple making out in a way that really ought to be illegal in public. Past the lookout, laser lights flicker and sweep across the dancefloor, catching on the artificial fog and filling the air with psychedelic color. My eyes fall on the backs of two figures at the DJ booth, smoke rising above their heads. I can make out that one has headphones on and is faffing with the turntable while the other has their hands in the air and the small, flickering glow of a lit cigarette dancing around their figure. I’m dragged towards them by Nina who throws an arm around each of their necks in greeting. As soon as the one with the cig turns around, I catch his eyes.

It’s Matty. Selfish, arrogant Matty. I nod my head and flatten my mouth in a kind of recognition. The room is spinning from the alcohol and my skin is buzzing with discomfort. The bass of the music resonates in my ribs, teaching my heart how to beat. My mouth tastes salty and my knees feel weak.

I’m running to the corner where I can see a bin. Tears prick at my eyes and my hair sticks to my sweaty forehead as I swiftly empty the contents of my stomach into the small trash can. I kneel on the rough carpet and brace myself on either side of the bin with my hands. Between heaves, I lift my head to shake my hair off the back of my neck. The cool air feels grounding, but I’m soon back with my head in the can. I feel a hand on the back of my head, wrangling my frizzy hair off of my shoulders. I gasp, looking back for the sisterly comfort of Christina’s bottomless, cerulean eyes. Instead, I find a pair of brown, honey-flecked irises: Matty’s. I’m reeling too severely to be upset or confused; I’m just grateful when he uses his free hand to sweep my damp bangs out of my face and nods at me.

“Go on,” he encourages, “better out than in.”

I bury my head in the bucket again.

“Atta girl,” Matty coos in my ear. I can almost notice his hand rubbing circles on my back. Even when I’m quite sure I’m finished, I keep my head down for a moment savoring the last few seconds that I don’t have to look Matty in the eyes. Curse him for helping me. I wouldn’t know how to interact with him under normal circumstances, much less when he’s been nice to me – and watched me unceremoniously blow chunks into a bin.

“You feel better?” he asks. I lift my head tentatively, still scared another wave of nausea will hit me.

“I think so, yeah,” I mumble. Matty searches my eyes for any warning sign that I’m still sick.

“Have you got a hair tie?” I instinctually fish in my jeans pocket for one, handing it to him. Slowly, he corrals my locks into a ponytail and secures it, fingers grazing the tops of my ears and making me shiver. I sit back against the wall with my legs splayed out in front of me, knees visibly carpet burnt from my previous position. Matty flops down beside me. He reaches out to touch the red, irritated skin.

“You don’t need a doctor or something, do you?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” I hiss when he applies a little pressure to my knee and shake his hands off me, “Why are you being nice to me?”

“When have I not been nice?”

“You wouldn’t turn the music down the other night,” I state. He smiles at me, eyes scrunching up until his pupils are totally obscured.

“No one ever turns the music down,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Plus,” he adds, “I thought you were a buzzkill. Now I can see that’s not the case, sweetheart.”

“I can usually handle my drink better than this,” I protest, “And I’m also usually not a buzzkill.”

“I guess I don’t know anything about you, then,” he acquiesces, thinking for a moment, “Do you want to start over?”

“Sure, I’d like that,” I nod, smiling tipsily.

“So what’s caused you to be sick tonight?” Matty asks, leaning his head back against the wall. His hair is curled up in perfect ringlets and his skin glows golden even in the dim club light. He looks at me carefully, like his stare could hurt me. It could, I suppose.

“Alcohol?” I say it like that should be obvious. His face wrinkles up again in a laugh I can vaguely identify as something that’s my fault. He looks pretty. I realize I want to make him do it again and again forever. I want to see the crinkles that grow at the sides of his eyes and the curl of his upper lip that reveals his boyishly crooked teeth.

“I figured as much. Anything in particular that drove you to drink?” I frown for a second, trying to remember.

“My ex,” I say quietly.

“What’d he do?”

“Nothing,” I shake my head, “that’s the problem. She didn’t do anything.”

“When was that?”

“Two months ago?” My god, it’s already been two months.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “that’s still fresh.” I shrug.

“It’s alright I guess. You just feel a little betrayed when someone stops trying. I thought that was the whole point of…” I trail off, gesticulating aimlessly with my hands, “love or whatever. To keep trying.”

“I get it,” he utters.

“People stop trying with rockstars, too?” I tease. He smiles.

“How did you know that I’m a musician?”

“Well, first of all, I said rockstar–”

“Which I chose to ignore because it was sarcastic.” I roll my eyes.

“And second of all, the girls I’m staying with told me,” I finish. He nods in understanding.

“Well yeah,” he sighs pensively, “people stop trying with everybody. Even rockstars. If I’ve learnt anything in my life, it’s that giving up usually has more to do with them than it does with you.”

“You’re probably right, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less,” I argue.

“Nothing does. You just have to let it hurt for a while.”

We’re both quiet for a second. I catch a couple of bars of an Earth, Wind, and Fire song and hum along, content with the silence. I let my head fall onto Matty’s shoulder and he immediately turns his head to look at me.

“Oh fuck, sorry. Is this okay?” I ask, hand flying to my mouth “I know I just puked.”

“It’s okay,” he says, “I just didn’t think you would want to.”

“I want to,” I kiss his shoulder through the cotton of his white button-up shirt. He watches me the whole time as though he can’t quite compute what’s happening. Then he snaps back to his regular confident state.

“Let me know if you ever want to deal with your girlf– ex without drinking your feelings away…” he trails off, mouth meeting the crown of my head, “I’d love to show you around here sometime.”

“Okay,” I mumble, the alcohol, tiredness, and emotions beginning to get the better of me and coax me toward sleep.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Matty grabs my hand from my lap and wraps it in his two larger ones, caressing my thumb and humming into my ear.

–

a/n: the next bit is written, but I am still writing the end. smut soon! x

#matty healy fanfic #matty healy x reader #matty healy x y/n #matty healy fluff #matty healy fanfiction #matty Healy

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