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not-neverland06 · 4 months

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Alone And Forsaken pt. 2

Joel Miller x fem!reader

A/N: clearly I don’t do one shots, I tried, I failed. I can’t help it he’s just so fine (@woodland-mist you asked so, here you go)

WC: 5.6K

Part one

You weaved through the throng of people in the town square, hoping to get by unnoticed. Maria had told you where to find Tommy, you should have known it wouldn’t be easy, nothing with him ever really was.

“Y/N! Hey!”

Nope

You had one goal and it was not to meet and greet with all your neighbors. You ducked your head down, hiding yourself in the passing throng of people and evading them. It was a new couple that had just moved to Jackson a few days ago.

You, of course, had protested anyone new coming in after the incident with Abby and her people. But because you and the brothers had been less than forthcoming with what happened and no one had any reason to listen to your doubts.

They’d been moved into the big house across from you and Joel, because they needed the space.

Because she was pregnant.

In three months your life was going to get very loud and very miserable.

The couple was too nice for your taste. You’d just barely gotten used to staying in Jackson for longer than two weeks, then Maria went ahead and shoved the two friendliest people you’d even met down your throat.

Maybe you were too bitter. Maybe everyone was right, you should try and socialize, give people the benefit of the doubt before you write them off.

“Do you see where she went, honey?”

Then again, maybe not.

You rushed into the Tipsy Bison before they could spot you. You were sure they would tell Joel about this when they spotted him on the porch with his morning coffee. And you were sure he would give you hell for it, but you already have to deal with Tommy this morning. They can go bother someone else.

You glanced around the bar, spotting some blonde hair in the back. When you rounded the tables you could see Tommy was busy haggling with Sam, trying to trade a shirt for some of his roast beef sandwiches.

“I think I’m offering more than enough for some sandwiches, Sam.” Tommy, being the de facto leader after Maria, was trying to maintain a semblance of diplomacy.

Sam was a stubborn jackass and you knew if you didn’t do something this would take all day. You walked up and nodded a greeting to Tommy before glaring at Sam. “Give him the sandwiches.”

Sam glared at you, trying his damndest to look down his nose at you. “Mind your fucking business.”

Tommy straightened up, a frown on his face. Neither he nor his brother had ever been good at losing the whole Texan chivalry thing. They didn’t do well when someone disrespected a ‘lady’ in front of them. “I think you need to watch your tone, Sam.”

You held up a hand towards Tommy, stopping him from getting too riled up. You already had a less than respectable reputation in Jackson, didn’t need to drag him down with you. “Give him the sandwiches, and we won’t need to get Joel involved.”

Sam opened and closed his mouth, he glanced between you and Tommy, like he was trying to call your bluff. You couldn’t really help yourself as your hand drifted down to land on your holster, your fingers idly drumming against the leather. Finally he huffed, mumbled something prickish under his breath and shoved the sandwiches into Tommy’s hands, snatching the shirt. You watched until he retreated into the kitchen to address Tommy.

“You probably coulda kept the shirt.”

Tommy shrugged, tucking the food in his pack. “Yeah, but we do things a certain way here. Can’t just go flashing your pistol at people.”

You scoffed, “Didn’t flash my pistol, I used your brother.”

Tommy chuckled and nodded his head towards the bar’s exit. You followed him outside, looking around to make sure the coast was clear of your neighbors. When you turned back to face him he was giving you an odd look. “What’re you so jumpy for?”

You sighed, “Your wife decided to move Mr. and Mrs. Rogers next to me and Joel.”

Tommy smiled and laughed, most definitely at your expense. “You mean Ann and James,” you nodded, ushering him along the sidewalk in case they popped up again. “They’re nice people, I think she’s just trying to get you to branch out.”

“Don’t need to,” you grunted out. Though, hunching over, hiding from anyone who wants to talk to you, you weren’t sure you were making a great case for yourself. You straightened up and glared at him, “‘Sides, I didn’t come out to chat about my new neighbors. I want to talk about the Harvest Festival and my ‘date.’” You couldn’t keep the disdain out of your voice if you tried, which you weren’t.

“Bob,” Tommy offered. You rolled your eyes and nodded. “What about it?”

“I’m not going.”

Tommy crossed his arms and smirked. “Says who?”

“Me,” you weren’t sure what he wanted from you.

“And why not?”

Oh. Oh. That stupid smug little look was back on his face. How in the hell does he know? “I think you know why.”

He shook his head, “Nope, don’t think I do.”

He was really making you do this? “I can’t go because of Joel.”

“What’s my brother got to do with this?”

You opened your mouth, some argument at the tip of your tongue, but it was lost to you the second you tried to speak it into existence. Why couldn’t you go?

You broke apart from Joel slowly, neither of you in any sort of rush to end this. Idly, and without much thought behind it, your fingers traced the shape of his lips. You didn’t realize you were smiling until you saw the same soft expression mirrored on his face.

“Been wanting to do that for a while,” his voice was quiet, as if he spoke any louder the trance would be broken.

“I’ve been waiting for you to do that for a while,” your smile grew when the hands around your waist squeezed you tighter. He pulled you closer and you got comfortable in his lap, your hands moving down to play with the fabric of his shirt.

He didn’t seem to mind the subtle exploration, his own hands mimicking yours. Now that you finally had the chance, neither of you seemed able to stop touching each other. You weren’t sure where to go from here.

You hadn’t realized how desperately you had wanted this, wanted him, until you had him. You didn’t want to ruin the moment by overthinking or complicating something simple. Still, is everything going to change now?

Did that kiss mean as much to him as it meant to you?

What did this mean-

“Hey,” you startled slightly, jolted out of your thoughts by the heavy weight of Joel’s hand on your cheek. “I can see that brain going. I can practically hear the rust flaking off the gears in your head.”

You scoffed and smacked at his chest, “Shut up.” But he was right, it was far too easy for you to get lost in your own head. Especially concerning him. You were grateful for the way he could anchor you in the present, drag you back out of a trap of your own making.

Joel stood, his arms wrapping around you and dragging you along with him. You could hear his bones popping, you wanted to protest, tell him to just let you walk, but you knew he wouldn’t listen. He had that determined look on his face, the one that meant he was ignoring how old and worn out his back and knees were.

Besides, you liked how strong he was. Relished in these little displays of strength, even if it was something as simple as carrying you to bed. You knew you needed to talk, you needed some sort of verbal confirmation that this was more than just two lonely souls looking for company.

But Joel just dropped you on the mattress, grumbled about getting your stuff from the guest room, and left. You changed out of your clothes, brushed your teeth, and waited for him to come back. When he did, he had changed too, he dumped a pile of blankets on the bed and got in beside you.

He laid down and wrapped his arms around your waist, dragging you into his side. You looked down at where he was holding you, lacing your fingers together, and let yourself fall asleep. You two didn’t say anything else, you just reveled in each other's warmth, let the comfort you provided lull you both into an easy sleep. And when you woke up in the morning, he had breakfast ready for you, but he didn’t say anything about the night before.

In fact, for the next week, there was no mention of you two kissing or what his vague, half-confession meant. Sure, now he greeted you with a kiss each morning and night, but other than that nothing had changed about how you two operated.

You didn’t have anything to appease Tommy with as he looked at you expectantly. No, nothing had majorly changed between you and Joel and you hadn’t had a real discussion about anything. But, you didn’t really need one, you knew what you meant to each other. And you knew how hard it is for people like you and Joel to have those discussions.

Emotions, romance, love were all such distant concepts, it felt so foreign to you. If you tried to date, or speak into existence how much weight he held in your life you know inevitably it would just end up complicating and ruining things.

You were together, alive and not some mindless fungi outside Jackson, the rest was inconsequential.

You just said, “Cancel it, I’m going with Joel,” and walked off before you had to be subjected to more of his smug face.

You made your way back through town, the morning rush having calmed down now that everyone had gotten their supplies or found their assignments for the week. You were thankful not to spot any nosy neighbors as you made your way back, that was the last thing you needed after having to deal with Tommy’s questions.

Neither you or Joel were really big fans of talking about your emotions, hell you’d have punched someone out back in the QZ just for telling you to look for the light. Gooey stuff was practically a foreign language to you now.

You could function based on actions; setting out his coffee in the morning or a new book appearing on your nightstand when he’d gotten back from patrolling. It was all you needed to understand what you were to each other.

You trudged up the stairs to the porch, Joel was sitting in his favorite rocking chair, a mug resting on his knee. His supply was running low, you were gonna have to find someone to trade with again. You had been keeping an eye out on your patrols, trying to see if you could find any beans.

You weren’t really sure how coffee plants worked, if you planted the beans whether they would even grow or not. But it was worth a shot.

“How’d it go?”

You let out a long sigh and threw yourself down on the chair next to him. It creaked under your weight but held up against the strain of its old age. You rocked back and forth, plucking at a string on your jeans. “Fine.”

He snorted slightly as he took another sip of his coffee. “Looks like it. Oh, Jason and Anna stopped by.”

It was your turn to laugh, you smirked at him, propping your head in your hand. “You mean Ann and James?”

He rolled his eyes and nodded, “Yeah, them.”

“You’re losing it, old man.”

He shrugged, “I don’t know, they were concerned about your hearing. Said they must’ve called your name ten times and you didn’t hear them.” There was a shit eating grin on his face as he stared at you, like he knew it was complete bullshit.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, “Please.” You sat up and leaned forward, irritation forcing you upright, “If I have to listen to her complain about how tender her breasts are again, I’ll shoot myself.”

Joel grimaced, giving you a disgusted look as he put his mug down. “These people know what T-M-I is?” He put too much emphasis on each letter and you couldn’t help yourself as you laughed. It was always funny to hear him get an attitude with that gruff Texan accent, he ended up sounding like a poor attempt at valley girl. He swatted your knee, trying to get you to stop making fun of him.

“Tommy, come on, what’d he say?”

You shrugged, looking down and away from him, going back to playing with the loose thread of your jeans. “I don’t know, he was asking all these questions.”

Joel was quick to ask, “What questions?”

You rested your head on the back of the rocking chair, “Why I didn't want to go on the date.”

“What’d you say?”

Jesus, he was barely taking a breath. “I said,” you paused and looked at him, not really surprised to already find him looking at you. His gaze wasn’t as intense as you were expecting, more eager? You weren’t sure Joel got eager. “I said I couldn’t go with what’s-his-face to the festival because of you.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, leaning back in his rocking chair, a strange sort of male pride clear on his face. “How come?”

You scoffed, glaring at him from where you sat. The hell was he getting at? “Why do you think, genius? Why would I go out with someone when I’ve got you?”

“You got me?”

You paused, irritation draining from your body as you stared at him. His face wasn’t giving anything away, he wasn’t closed off, just staring at you expectantly. “Don’t I?” You hated the way your voice went quiet, you wished it had been more confident, teasing, like you knew the answer and were screwing with him. You sounded too vulnerable.

Joel let you squirm for a minute, you’re pretty sure he thought it was funny. Finally he sighed and leaned forward, his hand landing on your thigh and you could feel the warmth of it through your jeans. You hadn’t realized how cold you’d gotten until he was this close, walking furnace that he was.

“Yeah, you do.” You tried not to let the relief show, though you’re sure it did if his little smirk was anything to go by. He squeezed your thigh once before he stood up to go back inside.

“Oh,” you suddenly remembered the last bit of your conversation with Tommy. “And I told him you were taking me to the harvest,” you called over your shoulder. It was your turn to screw with him, and if the way his shoulders tensed up as he paused in the doorway was anything to go by, he was just as excited as you about that ridiculous festival.

“When’s your next patrol?”

Joel had found you an old mystery book on his last run, the same one you were reading now. You marked the page and put it down on the nightstand as he got into bed next to you. “Not sure, I think thursday. Why?”

He shrugged, leaning back against the pillows and gazing at you. “I was thinking I could go with you. We could go exploring that old art museum Maria told me was a couple miles out.” He reached out, tucking some hair behind your ear and you tried not to lean too much into him.

You smiled, almost accepting when you realized what he was doing and the smile dropped. You huffed out a breath and rolled your eyes. “Nice try, Joel, we’re going to the harvest festival.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender, “Got no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” He shook his head, oh-so-innocent. You scoffed, “You’re so full of it. If I went with you, we’d miss the harvest festival. And who would have to listen to Tommy’s bitching? Me.”

“He’s my brother.”

“Then you deal with him!” You picked your book back up, deciding on ignoring him for the rest of the night. You should have known he would try and weasel his way out of this.

Honestly, once you’d decided you were going with Joel, the festival didn’t seem that awful or daunting. You’re a little hurt he wants to get out of it so badly. You weren’t that bad of company.

“You ignorin’ me now?”

You shrugged, flipping through the book, not really absorbing anything. You’d have to reread this chapter tomorrow.

A big hand found itself in front of your face, blocking you from reading anything more. Joel dog-eared the page, something you loudly protested to, and threw the book on his nightstand. “Joel, you know I hate when you do that.”

“Yeah, I know,” you rolled your eyes at his little smirk. “But you’re talkin’ to me.”

“Child. You’re a child.”

He leaned over you and shut your lamp off, ignoring your snippy still usin’ that. He settled down in bed and patted the spot next to him. You hesitated, only for a moment, debating whether you wanted to give him more of a hard time or just give in.

It wasn’t a hard choice.

You settled down beside him, your head falling on his chest and his arm naturally wound itself around your back. You tried to ignore the way your legs fit together, how you felt like a complete puzzle when you laid down beside him, the two of you fitting together perfectly. You tried even harder to ignore the way the thought made your heart race, but it was nearly impossible.

Sometimes you resented Joel a little bit. Resented him for the way you lost control of yourself and your emotions when you were around him. Resented all the power he held over you and how unaware of it he seemed to be.

“I really don’t want to go.”

You scoffed, your fingers tracing the design on the worn out t-shirt he was wearing. “You think I do?”

“Then let’s just skip it.”

“Joel, I already said-”

“We used to be able to just do whatever we wanted.” You paused as he interrupted you, closing your mouth and tilting your head up so you could look at him. “We went where we wanted, when we wanted. There weren't all these bullshit obligations like patrol, or making sure our shifts match up.”

You were silent, taking in what he was saying. It wasn’t hard to miss the resent lingering in his tone, or the way he spoke fondly of your past. Before you had responsibilities. But you must have been quiet for too long because he reached over and turned his lamp off, closing his eyes with a sigh.

You stayed awake a while longer, just thinking about what he said. He was starting to sound like you, the same frustration and anger at being expected to provide for others. You were at everyone’s beck and call here. People viewed you as do-ers. Someone needed something done, you were the one to do it, and there was no arguing either, because everyone worked together here.

The thought left a bitter taste on your tongue as you went to sleep.

“Come on, hurry up!”

Ellie was sitting on the couch, she ran the towel in her hand over her hair roughly. You stood behind the chair, scissors in your hand as Joel trudged down the stairs. You wrapped a towel around his shoulders to keep his wet hair from dripping on his shirt.

Years ago, a time that feels nearly as distant as 2003, it was Tess who would cut yours and Joel’s hair. You’d sit down in the crappy apartment you had in the QZ and she’d use some blunted ass scissors to saw off your hair.

Neither you nor Joel should have been trusted with any scissors, but when Tess was gone and you were on the road for too long Ellie and Joel would start bitching about their hair. Neither of them liked how it would touch their neck.

Luckily while you were still learning there were no mirrors. They couldn’t see how horribly you had done. They would always run their hands through their hair and frown, like they knew something was wrong, but they just couldn’t prove it.

The only thing you had to worry about for a while was just not busting out laughing every time you saw the bangs you accidentally gave them.

Thankfully, by the time you reached Jackson you’d gotten good enough at it that they would still come and badger you for a haircut. They’d never had a chance to see just how horribly you had done in the beginning.

“Oh, Jesse wanted me to ask you if you’d do his hair soon?”

You gave Ellie a noncommittal hum, running your fingers through Joel’s hair. “I like it long.”

“Cut it.” He didn’t exactly leave any room for arguments, he even crossed his arms, like you were actually going to pester him about it. You weren’t, but you were leaving some length, it’s not like he could cut it himself.

He tilted his head slightly towards Ellie, “What’s Jesse want with her?”

You pushed his head back in place and started snipping. “What do you think he wants?” Ellie snorted, she got off the couch, probably already bored of sitting there. She went over to the mirror on the wall, running her hands through her hair and grinning.

“Isn’t he with Dina?” You weren’t proud of it, but you might have picked up some information about people around town. Would you say gossiping? No. Would others? Probably.

“Not anymore, they broke up a while ago.” Ellie turned around, hands on her hips as she stared at you.

You momentarily paused in cutting Joel’s hair, ignoring his disgruntled complaint. “Am I missing something?”

Joel turned to face her as well, matching confused expressions on both your faces. “Yeah,” Ellie paused, like she was waiting for the two of you to connect the dots. You glanced down at Joel but he just shrugged.

He tried, “I thought Jesse and Ellie were dating.”

You rolled your eyes and shoved Joel’s head forward, going back to the haircut.

“God! You guys, me and Dina are dating, we’ve been dating for like three months.”

”I thought you were friends,” Joel offered unhelpfully.

“Clearly not,” Ellie sniped back. “You guys seriously didn’t know?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know what you kids get up to.” Ellie sighed and sat back down on the couch seemingly disheartened by your underwhelming reaction. “At least you can’t get her pregnant.”

Ellie sucked in a breath, “Right.”

Joel swatted your hands away from his hair, he better pray that doesn’t screw you up. “Ellie, what was that?”

“What?”

“That noise you just made.”

“Joel,” you interrupted, forcing his head back in place, “stop moving, dammit.”

“Dina’s pregnant,” Ellie rushed the sentence out in one, jumbled breath.

You watched as Joel’s shoulders tensed and then slumped in front of you. “How’d you even get her pregnant?”

“What’re you doing?”

Joel closed the patrol log and shook his head, “Nothing, come on.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in suspicion as you watched him walk off. He had spent way too long by the log book for him to have just been writing - Couple runners, took ‘em out -J

You wanted to open it up and look but he was watching you from the entrance of the garage. You shoved aside your curiosity and followed him out to the horses. He grabbed the reins of his horse, “Come on, Sunny.” He shook his head and scoffed as he mounted her, “Still think their names are ridiculous.”

“Sunny and Cher,” you pet the black mane of your own mare and huffed out a laugh. “How’s Ellie even know who they are?”

“I don’t know, must’ve heard it from someone ‘cause she don’t even spell Sunny’s name right.”

“And she’s a girl.”

He laughed, “And she’s a girl.”

He led you both outside into the sunny woods. Snow’s completely melted now, you weren’t sure how Maria and Tommy managed to time their ‘Harvest Festival’ so perfectly but it was a good time to celebrate the incoming warm weather.

“So,” you nudged Cher forward to walk alongside him. “Where are we going?” Joel shrugged but didn’t provide you any answers. “Clearly not Jackson,” you were going the opposite direction of the town.

You glanced at the back of Sunny, the bags he had tied to her saddle, each of them far too stuffed for a simple patrol. “You kidnapping me?”

“Maybe.”

You sighed, rolling your head back and taking in the greenery of the woods. You were definitely eager for winter to be over. Something about the cold weather makes the infected go fucking insane. They're faster, meaner, and just over all bigger pains in the ass. Not to mention the fact that they travel in huge fucking hordes.

Tommy always tries to pretend he knows about them, something about the barometric pressure making them migrate but you know he’s just full of it. You watched a pair of hare’s dart in front of you and Joel and took in a deep breath.

God, you’d forgotten how nice it was to be outside without the sound of people around you. There was the sound of the horses' hooves squishing lightly over wet grass, the wind moving the leaves above you, and the distant sound of birds singing. But no voices, or kids, or people demanding favors.

You’d missed this, with Joel specifically. It’d been a while since you had this type of quiet with him. So, you didn’t push him too much about where he was taking you, just followed him down the path.

You were fine not bugging him while you were on a lovely jaunt through a pretty forest. But it’s been an hour and you can’t feel extremities that really need blood flow. “Joel,” you tried to remain friendly but your tone was strained as you shifted on your saddle for the nth time.

“Yeah?” He grunted out.

“How much longer?”

“Not much longer.” He turned around and frowned at you, “Have some patience.”

You tugged on Cher’s reins, forcing her to stop while you glared at Joel’s back. “Patience? Joel, we’ve been out here since six. I’ve had a lot of fucking patience. But that ran out about three miles ago, right when I stopped being able to feel my a-”

“We’re here.”

Of course you were.

Joel got off Sunny and offered you a hand down. You took it eagerly, more than happy to finally stretch your legs out. You were a bit surprised when he kept your hands locked together, he wasn’t normally one for touchy shows of affection.

Not that you were complaining, you were more than happy to revel in the comforting feeling of his hands in yours. Though, his were definitely rougher than your own, you weren’t without your own callouses, but he’d had years of carpentry and being a contractor under his belt before the apocalypse.

He’d paused in a field, the grass here was up to your waist which made it difficult to see where you were stepping and what you were stepping on. You kept close to Joel, the horses trailing behind you both as he led you through the field.

It took a moment for you to realize you’d never been out here. You’d only been vaguely paying attention to the direction you went while you were on the horses, trusting Joel to know the way. But this was definitely unrecognizable, which was strange, you thought you’d found everything when you went exploring on your own.

Out in the distance you could see a vague shape forming, some brown structure that you couldn’t really make out as the grass was getting taller. It only took a few feet to finally figure out what was looming over you.

A fence.

Fun.

You said as much to Joel, probably in the most sarcastic tone you could muster. He rolled his eyes and kneeled down. You couldn’t help but admire his arms as he dug his fingers into a rotten plank of wood and pulled. He managed to make a hole large enough for you to crawl through and motioned towards it.

“Well, go on, smartass.”

You huffed, getting down on your hands and knees and squeezing your way through. You didn’t bother seeing what was in front of you, turning around so you could keep the way through open for him. The wood dug into your palm, splinters burying themselves in your skin.

God, this better be worth it.

He groaned as he straightened up, pulling you to your feet and stretching his back out. “Alright. Ready?”

”Yep,” you rolled your eyes as he walked in front of you. What could have been so amazing he had dragged you out here?

A house.

Well, it was a nice house, better taken care of than you’d seen out here. Looked like an old farmhouse, two stories, and a wraparound porch. Something you would have loved a long time ago. Surrounding it was a tall fence, it went out pretty far, there was room enough for a large garden and then some. There were bits where the wood had rotted or had holes in it that looked like someone had broken through. But the grass was trimmed, a normal height instead of tickling the ends of your hair.

Overall, nice, but you had no clue what Joel was doing out here.

“What do you think?”

“It’s nice.”

Joel scoffed, he crossed his arms and stared at you, “Just nice?”

You laughed and walked up the stairs of the porch. It was cleaner than you thought it would be, no signs of aging on the wooden boards. “It’s a nice house, Joel. I just don’t get why we’re here.”

He sighed and walked up to you, you took in a deep, centering, breath when he placed one hand on your waist. He moved you slightly out of the way as he leaned in, opening the door up behind you. “We’re here ‘cause this is ours,” admittedly your eyes were on his lips and your focus was how close he was to you.

It took you a second to actually process what he had said. You blinked and your eyes shot back up to his, “What?”

He nudged you inside and you stumbled over your feet as you went. The interior was even nicer than the outside. There wasn’t a spec of dust or decay, it was like time hadn’t had a chance to touch it. There was a couch, bookshelves, even an old record player.

“Joel, what the hell are you talking about?”

He sighed and threw his backpack down on the ground. He walked over and took yours off your shoulders, nudging you to take a seat on the couch. “Been working on this for months.” He smiled a little, the wrinkles in the corner of his eyes crinkling with the movement.

You were still a little confused, eyes darting around the living room as you sat there with a dumb look on your face. “Look, Jackson was nice for a while.”

You tuned in enough to grunt in opposition. Joel chuckled, “Alright, fine, it was never my favorite. I was out here one day, looking for you,” he added with a light nudge to your knee. “Found this place.”

“And… What? Decided to test out Jesus’s favorite pastime?”

“I was a contractor before the world went to shit. Like riding a bike, it just comes back to you.”

“I just don’t understand. Why? Why put in the time and effort and materials?”

He scoffed, “Why do you think?” When you didn’t answer he rolled his eyes. “We always talk about disappearin’ and I thought this would be a nice place to do it. There’s already a perimeter up, just have to make some more repairs. Worked something out with Tommy, it’s close enough to Jackson that we got some power from the dam,” he stood up now pacing around the living room a little as he talked to you.

You slowly became aware of the stupid grin growing on your face. The warmth that was spreading through your cheeks and stomach as you realized he’d done this, fixed up this old house for months in secret for you.

That explained why he’d been complaining about his back so much lately.

You stood up, cutting him off from his tangent about how you were still close enough to Jackson for supplies and to see Tommy and Elllie. You fisted your hands in the flannel he was wearing and tugged him down. “Joel.”

He smiled at you as his hands landed on your waist, squeezing a little. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Have I ever told you I love you?”

He pulled you in and grinned, “Not once.”

This kiss felt different than all the rest. Felt like something more final, like you both knew you’d reached the end and there was nowhere left to go. You’d explored all you could, fought your way here, and now you stood in this old house. The one he had fixed up and you knew you didn’t need to fight anymore.

You just needed this, him in this moment.

“Ellie?”

Ellie turned around at the sound of Dina’s voice. “Yeah?”

She nodded her head towards the patrol logbook, there was a strange smile on her face. “Might want to take a look at this.”

Ellie walked over, shooting Dina a confused glance before she took a look and let out a laugh.

We aren’t gone, but we’re disappearing for a while. You won’t find us, don’t come looking (I mean it Tommy) - J

TAGLIST: @chrysanthemum-00 @marimarvelfan

#Joel miller x reader #tlou x reader #game!joel x reader #joel miller #tlou #the last of us x reader #the last of us

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riddles-n-games · 9 months

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Here it is, the headcanon that you've all been waiting for but you didn't know that you were waiting for: that age old debate of coffee or tea, Hawthorne edition.

Nash-This cowboy enjoys a good calming green tea out on the balcony at dawn, watching the sunrise on those days where it just hits in that way as the sun comes out over the Black Wood. Though, he absolutely loves very sugary lattes for whatever reason and Alisa used to wonder how it straight up didn't stop his heart. He goes out with Xander on these outings where if they're experiencing this need for caffeine and really don't want anything from the chef's kitchen, they go out for coffee at any random cafe they can find and they usually like going to different ones for experimentation purposes; Nash for his lattes and Xander for his mocha/chocolate iced drinks. They both love going out on these ventures and it's another favorite brotherly bonding activity. Anytime that Alisa becomes aware of these outings, she warns Libby to not make any cupcakes so that Nash doesn't get a severe sugar rush and it's just come to the point where both Libs and Alisa are terribly concerned that this man might get a heart attack so they've took it upon themselves to be his intervention tag team. It's a very tumultuous effort on their part.

Grayson-He actually prefers either given at any time but it does sometimes get event-dependent based on the intended outcome of his goals. If he wants to feel relaxed and refreshed, he drinks tea at a gala or charity dinner but in the case of working a late night for the foundation or his own homework, he needs coffee. He drinks copious amounts of black coffee when the stress of his work gets too great. One time it go so bad during a large project that his grandfather assigned him that in the middle of one of his work nights, he literally threw the mug of black coffee at his face he was so tired and drained. Nash went to check on him that next day to see if he was fine but found him asleep at his desk with coffee stains on Gray's usually pristine white shirt and sticky remnants on his face and then went to see the security footage. The older Hawthorne never told a soul and to this day, not even Grayson knows that it exists because Nash erased it from the cameras or that Nash saw him in his unruly state. As ironic as its sounds, when it comes to tea, his favorite flavor is Earl Grey (come on, you all saw that coming, right?) but he also loves a hazelnut roast with a sprinkle of apple cinnamon. He'd also never let anyone know this but he actually sometimes secretly buys himself a pumpkin spice latte anonymously because he's a sucker for it during the fall.

Jameson-Coffee through and through. He loves a good espresso and on occasion, if Nash is nowhere in sight and he needs an alcohol boost to get through the day, he sneaks in a shot of Bailey's. But, Jamie does have an oddly specific order for cold brews whenever Nash and Xander go on one of their caffeine-fueled urge adventures (yes, that's what they're called, according to Alisa, that is).

Xander-Forget coffee, he actually enjoys drinking hot chocolate more, specifically with milk, never hot water. He finds it absolutely disrespectful and sacrilegious to do this as it's always been referred in alternate terms as chocolate milk not chocolate water. This boy, being the genius he is, literally created an entire machine that actually can detect if a hot cocoa drink is made with milk or water; yes, he's that passionate and picky about this. Xan will debate on this topic very heatedly and most often than not it's one of the only opinion-based subjects that get him really going off. But yeah, when he's actually working in the middle of the night of an ongoing project that's likely lasted at least a few days with each one being an all-nighter, he gets black coffee and drinks two cups worth straight from the pot. Though, he loves trying out the different iced caffeinated drinks with chocolate or mocha flavors during summer.

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cialovesklopp · 10 months

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𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 | k.mbappé

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — where a talented singer climbs back to the top of the music industry while also managing her newly couple life that is going very strong

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — kylian mbappé x amara imani (oc)

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 8.1k 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 — hrs & hrs [muni long]

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — the revenge era can officially begin and amara can be sure to count on kylian. i apologize for the delay, i had a very busy week and words weren’t wording. also thank you to my lovely angel @lorarri for giving me all this inspiriation and also thank you to @aechii

taglist: @lorarri @locedes @aechii

masterlist

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌

𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚.𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞

liked by selenagomez, dualipa and 26.732.195 others

amara.imani thank u, next officially out — very happy that i got to work with this gorgeous queen on my first song after the hiatus @arianagrande we did good 💋

view all 167.423 comments

arianagrande we were fab 💋

liyah.clark that song is so GENUIS, on repeat the entire day, you two slayeddd

honeymoon_avenue why did this song make me rethink my sexuality

amara.e.imani1 it certainly proved that amara imani and ariana grande are two gorgeous women

stanamara_imani bi-panic immediately

graceywood all those late phone calles def paid off, the song is amazing, already breaking records

username MY NEW FAVORITE SONG

username it def gave Evan a taste of his own medicine

username FR, Amara and Ariana really roasted him

𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚.𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢

liked by selenagomez, dualipa and 26.732.195 others

amara.imani “look at you, boy i invented you” — in my head OUT NOW, the second of many coming

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𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

she was truly back. days, weeks, months had gone into this, had prepared her for this day and yet it felt even more special than she had ever anticipated. she had put everything into it, her time, her energy, her motivation— amara doesn’t think she would have survived if it had failed. the photo dump she had posted had announced her return but it were the publifications of thank u, next and in my head that had truly officialised her return to the music industry, — her comeback to the top.

especially thank u, next was one of her faves. the passive agressive but easy message towards her ex had truly given her the closure she needed before sue could continue. the finishing to their story that had taken so many ups and downs. their relationship had been a short high, a period of her life but one, that was over now — the message she tried to transfer through the song. she was genuinely thankful for evan, for showing her what love should NOT be like and for paving the way for kylian. who knows how long she would have stayed in that toxic environment if he hadn’t cheated on her?

was it smart to publicly shame evan and give misogynistic music critics the confirmation that she was just a copy of the likes of taylor swift and beyoncé? maybe not. but was she still proud she had done it? hell yeah.

deep down, she knew that the reason she had written the song was to shut up every newsletter and gossip magazine that claimed she was still crying over him, that their relationship was the only thing she was worth. she had matured a lot over the time, had let her feelings out and written them down before she had gotten the idea. why should she act like the mature woman who had to find five ways to euphemism the way he treated her when it should be him, who could just act mature the moment she would release the song? accept the fact that he hadn’t been the nicest to her and claim the criticism?

it were officially two days that had passed since she had released “thank u, next” and to be honest, amara was still buzzing. people could try to hide it but the song was genuis. everything that had been poured into it was a success. and she could never be thankful enough to ariana grande for accepting to be featured on the song. she remembered grace’s struggle to find a co-singer for her song, knowing that amara’s reputation had not been the best. and yet, she had one afternoon received ariana’s call, asking if she still needed a person and that she would be happy to feature on it. even though she had been shocked at the sudden call, a part of her suspected that kylian somehow had wriggled his way in. especially because the next day, she had gotten a long call from grace, telling her to keep kylian and all of sudden, she found kylian’s name in ariana’s followern (but she would never admit that she was stalking him sometimes).

in my head though was a complete different story. in all her career she had never doubted a song like this, never gotten anxious over it. perhaps, all the bad memories that were connected with every verse she wrote, brought it all back up again. or she still feared the failure she would maybe receive because everyone still held her for a bitch after evan’s interview. either way, the process of “in my head” was not one she would like to recreate.

but kylian had been there for her. every line that had brought her down, he had been there (whether live or onscreen) to cheer her up, to remind her that those times were over and she would never have to endure things like that again. maybe, he couldn’t promise her that she would never experience pain again but he had made the promise to himself that she would never ever find herself in the position, capable of writing a song like in my head. he had listened to her when she complained why it felt so hard for her to write, why she couldn’t find the words to describe what had happened. amara’s goal had been for in my head to be last song she would ever write about Evan again. the final page of the evan chapter before she would finally (and specifically for the press) move on from him.

she’d probably never admit it but all the shade thrown at evan felt good. two different people and yet the same intentions. he went on tv to throw her under the bus, she wrote songs about him, giving people the own right to analyse how much of an asshole he actually was. especially because there so many different interpretations of it but all had one common point — evan henderson was an asshole.

the good thing though was that, now that she finished with evan, she could finally focus on kylian. show him truly how much she loved him. he was her only thought now.

even when she celebrated her success, her thoughts were still on kylian. the air was filled with excitement as they celebrated the immense success of amara’s latest songs. both had claimed the charts rapidly, breaking records by being listened to over a billion times already. it brought a smile to her face, illuminating and radiant at the fact that she found her passion for music again, the sparkle that had been lit again.

it wasn’t exactly the tidiest space, with all the note sheets and song papers thrown around but they still found some space to put a bottle of wine to celebrate. she served herself another glass, still feeling the euphoria of her success and what better way to celebrate it, than with alcohol?

“so now you’re drinking without me?” someone whispered in her ear, making amara jump up out of shock as she hadn’t even seen anyone enter the place, except herself, grace and hudson. she hadn’t even gotten time to think about who it was when her eyes were suddenly covered by a pair of big hands but she recognized immediately who it was. only one person had that smell. “guess who it is?”

“let me guess, neymar?”

he chuckled mischievously, his breath warm against her ear. “essaie encore.” — try again

she pretended to think for a moment, biting her lip to add to her expression. “oh my god, it’s erling haaland. i feel so honored.”

the light nudge he gave her, made a laugh escape from her lips as she continued to play with kylian’s nerves. “last try,” the french striker warned.

“fine, fine, i know it’s you ky,” she replied, removing his hands from her eyes and turning around as she looked into his eyes.

he grinned at her, clutching his chest dramatically. “nice to know you didn’t forget me,” he replied, grinning widely at her. he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. “congratulations for the two songs. i’ve been playing them on repeat.”

“merci beaucoup,” she exclaimed, deepening their hug as she hid in his neck. “i can’t believe you’re here.” she mumbled under her breath, inhaling the so-familiar scent of his.

“i was invited as special guest,” he pointed at grace, who sent a sly look towards the couple before turning away again and continuing her conversation with hudson. “apparently i lift certain people’s motivation.”

she glanced at grace who sent her a smirk in return. how she had managed to get kylian’s number and even get him here was beyond her imagination but she was glad to have him here. to introduce him to her world.

“if you tell anyone i agreed to this, i’ll deny it.” she threatened jokingly, grinning at him.

he waved dismissively. “don’t worry, your reputation’s save with me.”

“you know, this is as much my celebration party as it’s yours. i don’t know how you did it but thank u, next wouldn’t have existed without you.” she thanked him, wanting to pass him a glass of wine but remembering at the same time that he couldn’t drink mid-season. “je te remercie tellement pour ça. pour sauver ma carrière. i owe you, whatever you want.” — i am so thankful to you for this, for saving my career

their hands sneakily intertwined, making sure to not be seen by grace or hudson. they didn’t want for the others to know about them so soon, preferring to enjoy their honeymoon phase for bit longer. “well, there’s something i wanted to ask you.”

“i’m all ear,” the singer retorted, looking at him expectantly.

he cleared his throat, letting go of amara’s hand to draw circles on it with his thumb while leaning closer. “you think you’re ready to make your first appearance as my nr. 1 die-hard fan with your presence at my game on saturday?” he asked her, his voice soft and tender with a sarcastic undertone. “parce que j’aimerais bien que tu sois là samedi.” — because i would love it if you were there saturday.

he was expecting a rejection, already having prepared for it. but he hadn’t really measured the way her comeback would change her. amara was done with hiding from the public and bad press. she had long enough play their game, where they could silence her with one bad article. and she was excited to see kylian play live.

“i’ll be there don’t worry,” she replied nonchalantly, accepting his request. “but you’ll have to score. i’m not leaving my couch for just anybody.”

he arched an eyebrow, skeptic expression on his face visible. “so now i’m just anybody?” he asked her incredulously. “wow, i see how it is.”

she rolled her eyes at his antics but wasn’t able to hide the way she enjoyed his dramatic act. “kylian!” she exclaimed, lightly nudging him.

“ça va, j’ai compris,” he held his hand up in surrender. “donc, combien des buts veux-tu, ma belle?” — okay, i understood. so, how many goals do you want, beautiful?

“two,” she stated firmly after thinking for some time. “i want a double.”

he laughed. “two goals it is.” he repeated, brushing some, hair out of her face. truthfully there wasn’t any hair in her face but he loved the feeling of touching her. there was a sense of longing for her, to be near her and feel her close to him. to touch her every time. “and what will i get if i do?”

she shrugged, her face implying everything. “how many kisses do you want?”

he pretended to think for a moment, even putting a hand on his chin before replying, “for a lifetime.”

“a lifetime?”

he nodded. “a lifetime.” he repeated proudly, “nous deux c’est pour l’éternité.” — we two are forever

“so you thought this far already?”

“all i know is that i’ll never let you go. and if you do, then i must have done something stupid.”

a new sense of comfort spread through her body listening to him. butterflies were an understatement for what she was feeling in her stomach. the room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in their own little world as they stared into each other’s eyes with their hearts beating in unison.

their kind of love, so innocent and untypical — it was based on more than just love. because sometimes even love was not enough. what actually strengthened their bond was the blind trust they held for each other, she had let herself fall from the clip she was grasping on with her entire strength and he had caught her. made sure she landed safely before taking her own way again. and he had come to terms with the possibility of maybe not playing an as big role in her life as she was playing in his. (luckily that had turned out different) — he was somehow willing to do everything for her.

but just as they see about to lose themselves completely in their souls, grace interrupted them, nudging the couple slightly. “as cute as this is between you, we still need to record some songs,” she said, directing the last part of her sentence to amara before pointing at kylian. “and you, i didn’t bring you here to distract my workers from working.”

“worker? you’re my manager.” amara retorted amusingly, grin quickly disappearing when grace sent her a cold glance. “i’m coming.”

“can i listen to it?” kylian asked, throwing his question in the middle of their conversation.

she shook her head, the mischievous twinkle practically sparking. “i’ll let you hear it soon. it’s a surprise.” she replied, assuring him as her voice brimmed with sincerity.

he nodded, though he couldn’t completely hide his disappointment. they exchanged a quick, longing glance before reluctantly parting, painfully aware that their obligations called them back to reality. “i’ll wait for you here,” he told her softly, instantly summoning a smile on her lips. that smile intensified when he took amara’s face in his hands (a gesture she had gotten used to) and planted a soft yet passionate peck on her lips — right in front of an unsuspecting grace.

any sense of seriousness and productivity left her body as she watched her best friend kiss the french striker, jaw nearly dropping in disbelief. but she was doing a great job at hiding it and acting as if whatever just happened in front of her was normal.

when everyone had gone back to work, grace seized her chance during a small lunchtime break. hudson had engaged into a very lively conversation with the french striker, not being able to contain his football-love anymore, bombarding kylian with question. this gave grace the possibility to drag amara away and do her own questioning relating to what had just happened between her and her beau.

without any forewarning, grace dragged amara to the back of the studio, her mind racing as she tried to piece the puzzle of the revelation in front of her together.

“what the hell did i just see?” she exclaimed excitedly. “a peck — a real relationship peck! when did this happen?”

her face was covered with a sheepish smile as she shrugged. “we’re dating now. we moved forward and things happened and now we’re dating.”

“that’s all you’ve got to say? we had thousands of phone calls and not even once did you mention this.” grace retorted loudly, staring incredulous at her best friend.

“honestly, it's a relatively new relationship, and i didn't want to make a big deal out of it. enjoy the small bliss.”

“wait till liyah hears that.” she furiously took out her phone, dialing liyah’s number and calling the latter by facetime. amara groaned, already seeing the kind of embarrassment she would get from liyah, especially because from the trio, she was the most livid when it came to exciting news.

to amara’s small dismay, liyah instantly took the call. “gracey, surprised you’re calling.” she greeted the pr-manager, loud noises in the back indicating that liyah must have been at the grand prix that was taking place on sunday.

grace grinned as they saw liyah all dressed in red-attire, probably to support her boyfriend. “liyah! thank god you took the call! i have news!”

“spill the tea!” liyah replied excitedly, matching grace’s enthusiasm.

“amara and kylian are dating. like fully dating! she’s off the market.”

liyah’s eyes widened at the new revelation, immediately turning to amara, who hid her face behind her hands. “what do you mean, they’re dating? you and kylian made a step forward? that final step we were all waiting for?”

before amara could reply, grace had already cut in. “and she probably wouldn’t have told us if i hadn’t invited kylian for today. this little bitch,” she pointed at amara, “would have probably waited a week before telling us that she and kylian even talked about making the next step.”

“how could you amara? i spent five days in paris with you and not even once did you mention that something happened!” liyah scolded her, voice getting louder to overcome the noises from the garage. “now spill everything. and i mean everything. every little detail.”

slightly panicking, she sighed. “well, he was over. he had planned on coming directly after they had come back to paris from their away match but i convinced him to come later because my mom was over—“

“mama imani was over?”

“she visited to check up on me and all that stuff,” amara explained, shrugging dismissively. “anyway, we talked about us and then there was a kiss…,” she confessed sheepishly, shyly turning away as her friends’ smiles got wider. “and then we decided to move forward. especially because the line of friendship was crossed a long time ago. oh… and the flowers he got me that day because they reminded him of him also were a factor that played into my decision.”

grace and amara covered their ears when liyah let out a loud scream, managing to even drown out the noises around her. “omg! how could you keep this from us? wait till i’m over again.”

“how long have you been in this new phase? i gotta know how long you’ve kept this up from us.” grace inquired, scrutinizing amara closely.

again, amara thanked the gods that she couldn’t blush. “well, it’s been two weeks now and like i said, we’re just looking where all this is leading to.”

“and now the real details?” liyah demanded, “did you only kiss or did more happen?” she asked, her tone becoming slightly suggestive.

“well, if you’re so curious. no we haven’t had sex yet. but we made out. a lot.” she admitted, hiding her face as liyah let out a scream.

“omg, this just made my day.”

grace smirked. “he’s also the reason why thank u, next exists. he’s the one who got in contact with ariana grande.”

another scream pierced through the phone, this time louder as liyah failed to contain her happiness.

“mon coeur, tu vas bien?” they suddenly heard in the background, and liyah turned to face the person calling after her. “i heard you screaming on the phone, even carlos was worried for a moment and andrea sent me to check on you.”

they watched liyah laugh, before peck the man’s lips, who they assumed was charles softly. “don’t worry babe. just excited because of some news i just got. wait, i just remembered that you haven’t even met the two most important persons in my life.” holding up a finger to indicate that he had to wait for a minute, she grabbed her phone, putting it in front of them, making charles appear on the screen. “meet my soul sisters, grace and amara, who is finally off the market.”

amara buried her face in her head out of embarrassment, listening to liyah introduce them. “she’s also the third person in our secret marriage with lewis.”

“third person?” she questioned, forgetting all embarrassment and arching an eyebrow. “now i’m offended.

charles laughed as they started to bicker around, his dimples reminding amara of kylian’s. “it’s very nice to meet you. she talks a lot about you. sometimes i feel like you’re dating her and not me.”

liyah rolled her eyes. “as if that isn’t the same with you and pierre.” she turned back to face her friends. “it’s literally me, my boyfriend and my boyfriend’s boyfriend.”

“if this is because pierre tagged along on our date once, i already apologized.” he groaned, turning his attention back to amara. “i’m a big fan of your music. especially your new song, ‘thank u, next’. a fave of mine.”

“thank you so much. i am also a big fan of your driving, especially your victory in austria. but i still prefer lewis.” she added jokingly.

he grinned too, taking no offense to her remark. “fair enough. athough now i can brag to the others that i met you. especially lando and carlos. they’re die-hard fans.”

“greet them for me. make their day.” amara’s smile radiated through the phone, her happiness clear on her face. “also do we need to do the threatening-thing, where we tell him how we can kill him in fifty-seven different ways or should we just skip it and talk about what dating you includes? because i actually like you, charles.”

the couple laughed, charles sneakily putting an arm around his girlfriend to bring her closer. liyah waved dismissively. “girls, don’t worry. you forget i’m the baddest bitch out of the three of us so i’ll know what to do if he ever steps out of lane. and honestly, after having been in a relationship with james, it’s not really hard to top that.”

still, they mustered him, scrutinizing him very closely though they were satisfied by him. just the way he held and looked at liyah was enough to prove that he really loved her.

it also didn’t hurt, that charles was happily ready to accept all of the conditions, amara and grace laid down for him.

he accepted the monthly girls’ nights and didn’t mind the three am calls between the girls as they all were sometimes in different timezones.

neither was he against weekly date nights, no matter whether it was a night in or night out and accepted quickly the rule to never leave the other on read.

grace and amara would lie if they said that they didn’t have fun, analysing charles and having him agree to every of their rule. and the ferrari driver would probably never admit, but he liked seeing her have such good and caring friends. even though he had already forgotten half the things he had agreed to.

listening to them, liyah suddenly understood what her friends were doing. they were making sure she finally got to have the perfect relationship with charles that she had been wishing for during her time with james. the dating nights, no fighting because she spent too much time with her friends, no jealousy crises — they were making sure she was finally living the bliss, she was supposed to live during a relationship.

hanging up once they had finished with their conversation, the two women walked back to the men again, who had longly finished their conversation and had taken on to talk about god and the world as they waited for the girls to finish their conversation.

“so, did you talk to your biggest fan?” amara asked kylian, leaning her head on his shoulder as hudson arranged everything so they could continue recording.

“fallais me dire qu’il était fan de manchester city.” kylian let out, grumbling a bit. “i am still a bit sore over that defeat.” — you should have told me he was manchester city fan

she grinned. “he’s a football fan. i thought that would be all you cared about.”

he rolled his eyes, smile still not leaving his lips. he sat down on the black revolving chair, taking a few spins. this time it was amara’s turn to roll her eyes. especially because she wasn’t finished and this was her place.

“kylian, you’re sitting in my chair,” she complained, groaning slightly. “please sit somewhere else.”

“mais celui-ci est plus confortable,” he replied, spinning around again to purposely miss the pout amara gave him. — but this one is more comfortable

“please,” she begged him again. “there are hundred different chairs here, just take one of these.”

“how about you take one of those,” he retorted before continuing to spin around, annoying amara even more. she let out an ‘uf’, groaning as she turned to make her way to the other chairs. “or you could just sit down on my lap.” he proposed slyly, smirking at her just as she was about to grab a chair.

she arched an eyebrow, weighing her options in her head. crossing her arms, amara sighed as she rolled her eyes and gave in, sitting down on kylian’s lap.

her body grew a bit tense, uncomfortable as she had never sat in someone’s lap before and somehow he sensed it. his arms wrapped sneakily around her waist, pulling her closer to his chest.

amara turned, smiling at him as kylian buried his head into her neck, his warm breath sending tingles down her body. his hands drew soft circles into her skin, tracing her body and every of her small defaults. the ones he had grown to love for her.

the new-found pair was so lost in each other, their flowing conversation distracting them from their surroundings thag they failed to notice the pr-manager take out her phone and capture this moment of love. smiling to herself, grace put her phone back after uploading the picture of the two to her story.

“after everything that happened,” hudson remarked, appearing next to grace as they watched the couple laugh together, only god knowing what they could talk about, “she definitely deserves this. someone who will love her the way he does.”

even though she had already been many times in his apartment, this time it felt different. perhaps because this time she wouldn’t be entering it as amara imani, the singer who had just had the worst year of her life. instead she was going into this apartment as amara, the girl dating him now. there wouldn’t be reasons anymore as to why she was there, she didn’t need any reasons anymore to be there.

the living room was tastefully decorated, lots of pictures showcasing his victories and achievements. she remembered her first time over, when she had been over here and the picture of their win from the lighe 1 had taken all her attention. the picture that had made her feel attired to kylian, with that certain twinkle in his eyes. while her eyes travelled around the room, he had quickly gone to his room, wanting to change into more comfortable clothes before spending the evening with her.

as she perused the shelves, her fingers wandering over the different book shelves, she noticed his music collection consisting of a long tower of cds piled up. needless to say, she was impresssed by his huge music collection and the way it varied from classical to contemporary. now it made sense why he had known so many old school and 80s hits . but what especially caught her eye was the dusty jazz cd, hidden away between a cd of whitney houston’s best hits and a 2000 party hits cd that instantly caught her interest. like they always said, curiosity killed the cat and amara couldn’t resist the temptation to play it.

confusion was clear on kylian’s face when he entered the living room, soft jazz tunes sounding out of the speakers. he arched an eyebrow as he joined her, placing himself next to her.

“do i even want to know why jazz is playing at the moment?” he questioned, amused that he was already so used to amara’s impulsive thoughts and ideas.

“nope,” she replied, shaking her head while a grin appeared on her lips. “but you need to dance with me. mayhe i’ll tell you then.” she replied mischievously, putting her hands around his neck.

he sighed but complied nonetheless and placed his hands on her hips before sliding them upwards for them to rest on her waist. “i have no idea how to dance to jazz,” he admitted, feelings heat in his cheeks even though there was no blush.

“me neither honestly.” she confessed, but shrugged happily. “but i don’t care. let’s just give it a try.”

the pair tried to keep with the slow rythm of the music but both realized quickly that jazz was not their music. they swayed and spun around, trying to dance the steps they had seen in music but the more they tried, the more awkward it became as they never managed to stay in the beat.

as kylian extended his arm and spun her around, amara tripped over his foot trying to match the rythm, resulting in both falling to the ground and landing softly on the carpet. one look was all they shared before they began to laugh. “we suck at this, don’t we?” kylian grinned, a sparkle in his eyes.

“yeah,” amara giggled, sitting up. “we should stop before someone mistakes us for actual dancers.”

the two let the jazz music play in the background, still fond of the memories with them failing to dance. while kylian got comfortable on the couch, taking over the whole sofa by extending his feet, amara preferred to stay on the fluffy carpet, songbook in her hands along with a pen.

“so… why were you so keen on dancing to jazz? i’m not judging but why, of all music genres did you take jazz?”

“i listened to the two of us and i just wanted to truly feel the song.” she replied sheepishly. “but as we all saw, it’s not really ours. i think we’re made to listen to it.”

he laughed at her but at the same time couldn’t stop himself from falling even more in love with her. she was truly the sunshine he had imagined her to be, the happy bubble she had once been. evan had only put a small black cloud on her head but once she had finally gained her self-trust and confidence back, the black cloud also disappeared and her sun shined through

“well, would you be so kind as to put on some serious music now?”

“only if i get to choose,” she commented, her face brightening up at kylian’s short nod. she quickly crawled to the music box, connecting her phone before she took back her place, getting truly comfortable now.

after their comical attempt at dancing jazz, they were ready to try out something new, listen to their own music. amara realized that music had become their own proper love language. while other couples communicated through affection, touch or soft words, their language was music. a language no one but them spoke.

she was used to express her feelings via verses and music but they had never spoken to someone. but with him, suddenly every song had an answer, a reply to it. they felt closer to each other when they listened to music and shared their feelings through soft melodies. a perfect duett.

as she scribbled through her notebook, going over the two songs that were next to record, kylian propped himself on one elbow to get a better view of her, watching her work. before her, he used to think songs were easy, they were just a few words that had to rhyme but after meeting her he had finally seen the process that went into it — was finally able to measure the worth of their work.

the first tunes of “style” filled the room, taylor swift’s song immediately lighting her face up with joy. she hadn’t even noticed that she had continued to sing along while working on her own lyrics — that much she loved the song. she wanted to ask kylian to sing along with her, dance with her to it but a certain sense of comfort prevented her from doing so. they were comfortable, at home in this position. she wouldn’t want to destroy it and kylian could always have another dance party with her.

the latter watched her intently, totally mesmerized and enchanted by her singing and her voice. each second that passed, he fell more in love with her, with the way she was just so natural. her talent and her passion were just two things of a long list that kylian loved about her. another thing was the way she was able to take another artist’s song and add her own note to it, her own touch. just the sight of her, fully in her element and singing to the song, fueled the fire in kylian’s heart that burned for her. somehow even the smallest moments like that deepened their connection.

amara would only know later how lucky she had gotten with kylian. someone who loved her because she was so passionate and talented and not just for her looks and reputation. he admired her creativity, her dedication and the way she always wanted to give her fans the 100% of herself that she deserved. she was the only one able to make him feel things he didn’t even know he could feel. he would follow her everywhere around if she asked him — kylian was completely enamored with her and probably loved her more than she did him.

even though she was deeply focused on her writing, she could still feel his gaze on her. the affection he gave her still made goosebumps spread through her entire body but here, she found comfort in it with him playing with some of her loose curls. it helped her concentrate. she turned, sending him a warm smile before turning around and setting her eyes on the paper in front of her again. it felt nice to have someone like kylian support her.

the song had longly ended and she had drowned out her surroundings to better focus on her work. it came easy to her with kylian’s support and encouragement along with the endearing smile he sent her. his gaze was comforting, calming.

“did i tell you about my coming collaboration with…” she broke the silence, trailing off. “i get to do a song with beyoncé.” she exclaimed happily.

“what?” his eyes widened in surprised before his perplexed expression turned into a happy one.

“yes. you know how she was my mentor and brought me into this business and now i actually get to do a song with her. that’s why i need this,” she pointed at the lyrics, “to be perfect. especially because she will be going over it and add her own lyrics for her part.”

“that’s incredible,” he gushed excitingly. “and believe me, your work is phenomenal. just what i got to see today was enough for me to know that you’re the most talented one.”

“well, i’m no beyoncé.” she mumbled shyly. “i just want this to work.”

“and it will mara. i’ll gladly call her if she doesn’t like it.” he advised, proudly smiling at her.

amara rolled her eyes. “get off your high horse. tu crois que tu es qui par rapport a beyoncé pour l’appeler?“ — who do you think you are in relation to beyoncé?

she laughed at his offended expression and continued to work on her song. she was immediately immersed in her songwriting again, adamant on making sure to give her idol her 100%. there was no way she’d disappoint the queen b.

while she wrote and erased words, kylian couldn’t help but be completely captivated by her focused expression. and to him in that moment, she was the most beautiful person ever. he had always thought that she was the most beautiful when she was laughing but he had seen another side of her — her passionate one. where she gave everything to make sure her words were perfect and made sense. and it made her even prettier than she already was.

he couldn’t even stop himself from taking out his phone and discreetly starting to take pictures of her without her noticing. he wasn’t very often a fan of taking pictures when the two were together but here, he knew he had to preserve this memory, this state of her.

after a few moments she started to sense something though. kylian was abnormally silent and calm for his usual state. she turned around, making kylian jump up at her sudden movement and a playful smirk build on her lips.

“you’re taking pictures of me again, aren’t you?” she asked, putting her book on the floor.

he chuckled, unable to hide his smile and pulled out her phone again to show her the endless pictures he had taken off her. before she realized, he started to take pictures of her again, making her groan.

“ky, please stop this.” she demanded, self-conscious taking over.

“never. i’ve never seen you so focused before, i had to capture this moment.” he just replied, laughing gently as he took another one.

“ky. at least delete it if i look bad in any of them.” she insisted, half-jokingly.

he shook his head, still amused by her slight discomfort. “ma belle, trust me, you look good in every lightening to me.” he replied sincerely, looking at her with so much love her heart filled with warmth

“why are you even taking them?” she questioned the french striker, putting down her book for final. she knew she wouldn’t get anymore work done today.

he shrugged nonchalantly. “i needed a new wallpaper. and why not take the person i like most.”

“fine,” she bit her lip to prevent herself from smiling but it was useless — a huge smile plastered on her face, reaching from one ear to the other as she let him take pictures of him for the rest of the night with small fights sometimes escalating as they thought over the phone. and still, she wouldn’t trade this evening for anything.

with an oversized shirt she had borrowed from kylian (which he knew he would never get back), amara found herself in the bathroom next to kylian as they brushed their teeth. she hadn’t really planned on staying over for the night but time had other plans, passing so quickly neither of the two had realized how late it had gotten. before they knew it, it was already too late for amara to go home (or more like, Kylian didn’t trust her to be alone at this hour in paris).

standing in front of the mirror, the two brushed their teeth, amused grins displayed on their face as they stared at each other through the glass. after spitting out the remainder of the toothpaste that stuck in her mouth, she washed her toothbrush and reached for her toiletries bag.

wanting to give her more place as he knew what she was about to do, the french international player placed his brush back into the small cup and took a few steps back to sit down on the border of the bathtub. he watched with amazement and an innocent kind of love and endearment as she gracefully washed her face before starting to apply various creams to it. with the soft bathroom light reflecting in his eyes, he smiled at her as his eyes glanced over her natural state. it felt like home.

amara glanced back at him through the mirror as she caught him staring at her, probably daydreaming with the way his eyes were locked on her. smiling, she turned to him, face creme still on her fingers. “do you want me to give you a skincare routine too? just asking with the way you’re staring at me. believe me, i’d be doing you a favor.”

he looked at her confusingly, chuckling as he shook his head. “don’t worry about me, i’m fine as i am.”

she walked towards him, squinting her eyes to scrutinize his skin. “your skin looks horrible,” she stated shockingly. “how come i’ve never noticed with how often we made out?”

kylian laughed at the way she seemed so upset, smirking as he responded, “guess that means im doing my job right.”

she rolled her eyes at her retort, exhaling loudly. “non, mais kylian sérieusement. i don’t want to kiss your face if it’s all scratchy and full of dead skin you probably didn’t really wash off.” — no but seriously kylian

he let out a small groan, realizing what that probably meant. “i take good care of my skin, don’t worry.” he replied but he hadn’t reckoned with amara’s persistence.

with a mischievous glint apparent in her eyes, she grabbed one of her moisturizing creams and moved slowly towards him. “i am so sorry but you left me no other choice.”

every step that she took towards him, he took one back, trying to get away from his as she neared him with an evil grin. “amara, really, it’s not necessary.” but she didn’t give up, ready to put some cream on his skin.

in the span of a second, he took off, trying to hide from her as she began to pursue him. the pair found themselves in a playful fight, both laughing as she tried to dab a bit of her moisturizing cream onto his cheeks.

he was successful in dodging every of her attempts but he hadn’t expected her to be so determined on it as she did not show any signs of abandonment or giving up.

“you’d make me so happy if you took good care of your skin.” she pouted, hoping to make him crack which worked. looking at her one last time, kylian finally gave in. but while amara thought it was because she finally wore him down, he had other reasons. and the biggest one was seeing her smile grow wider because she thought she had won. he’d do everything to see her smile.

“but don’t put on too much,” kylian instructed, “and just the cream. no serums or whatever you have in that bag.”

her face lit up with delight, nodding quickly as she made him sit down on the border of the bathtub again and gently applied the white cream to his cheeks. without even noticing, he closed his eyes as a sense of tenderness and softness washed over him. he’d never admit it but it felt good as she brushed her fingers softly over his face.

“and finished,” amara cheered, closing the cream, “now your skin is happy and smells amazing.” she leaned in, placing a soft peck on his cheek, her lips lingering for a little longer on his face.

he pulled her down next to him, his arm wrapping around her figure immediately. she laid her head down on his shoulder, playing loosely with the strings of his hoodie. “ready for bed now and some cuddles?”

“lead the way.” she replied quietly, intertwining their hands.

they exited the bathroom, heading directly for the bedroom to lay down. Kylian had been unsure whether amara wanted to sleep in the guest room or with him but his worries quickly vanished when they reached his bedroom and she laid down on the bed, hitting the free place next to her to signal for him to join her.

his cheeks were probably already hurting from all the smiling today and yet he couldn’t get himself to stop. laying next to her felt like a dream, the ones that felt so real that one often wondered whether it was really a dream. the soft scent of cherry and vanilla crawled up his nose as he buried his head in her neck, his arm pulling her closer to his chest.

it didn’t take long for them to fall asleep or at least enter the dazed state of sleep. nights that amara had spent, staring at the ceiling hoping to fall asleep seemed like a distant memory now that she had kylian. the sense of belonging he spread made it easy for her to fall asleep — because now she could let herself fall freely without worrying. except the butterflies in her stomach, she didn’t really feel anything that made her want to worry. and sleeping belonged to that.

“kylian, are you still awake,” she asked into the silence, hoping that kylian wasn’t asleep already, she nudged him lightly, happy when she felt him turn towards her. “tu te rappelles quand je t’avais promis une chanson?” — remember when i promised you a song?

“hm…,” he replied sleepily, “yes, that by the way i’m still waiting for.”

she stared up at him, waiting till his eyes were fully open and focused on her. taking a deep breath, she snuggled closer into his chest. “well, i wrote you an entire album.”

𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚.𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢

liked by selenagomez, dualipa and 26.732.195 others

amara.imani mon amour, je t’aime — the album, COMING SOON

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hearts4shadow · 5 months

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SC4RA N$FW HCS!!

h3lloo :3, f1rst off: tysm f0r th3 lik3d i got 0n my l4st scar4 hc$ post!! als0, i might do zh0ngli or ch1lde next t1m3 :sillygrin: BTW SL1GHT V3NT AT TH3 END, BEW4RE!

_________________________________________

— Unlike what the Scaranation thinks, no, i dont think he would ALWAYS be rough and dominant and make you beg and call him daddy. Instead, i like to think he’s a gentleman when it comes to intimate relationships, well, only if you ask him to.

— He didn’t really know anything about sex, he didn’t find a reason in why humans did it, he always found it pathetic and useless, but one day, his spouse, you, asked him if you guys could try it tonight, Scara shrugged and said “Ah, i will think about it.” So before night, he asked Tighnari about it since he seems to be more experienced, he taught him about the subject, and even gave him tips, and wanted to demonstrate it. /j (scaranari my babies) So when he got back home, he called you and told you he was ready.

— The first time you guys did it, he was VEERY nervous, but still with his usual straight-forward and teasing attitude. Scara always ask and checks if it hurts or if you feel any pain, he really worries about you, even in moments when you’re supposed to feel pleasure. If you ask him to go faster or rougher, he’ll try his best, but will be really concerned and scared to hurt you if you ask him to try any hard/extreme kinks (if you have these), example: Somno, Non-con, choking, degrading, spanking and etc, sure, he would consider on trying it, but only and always with your consent!!

Speaking of kinks, i’ll list some kinks i think he would have:

- Mommy Kink (fem/fem aligned reader): It’s pretty obvious he would have a mommy kink due to his mommy issues, so it’s no surprise if he just wants to be held and comforted by you. He would be shy at first, but would gladly be a good boy for his mommy!

- Now, as for a Daddy kink (masc/masc aligned reader): I don’t think Scara would really have a daddy kink, but just imagine this little puppet calling you that while you fuck his guts, his hands and legs quivering and tugging at the sheets, truly a beautiful sight. <3

- I am 100% sure he would have a Brat Taming Kink: He would be such a brat when he’s used to sex, he does it on purpose to get your attention since he can be a little attention deprived for you, so when you finally put him in his place? Ah, he just melts under your touch! But when HE’S the one on top, he’ll ask you once to stop your behavior (nicely ofc) the second time, he’ll say you’re on thin ice and tell you to stop again, and for the third and last time? He’ll RAVAGE and milk your insides.

- For Fatui!Scara, i think he would have a (SLIGHT!!) Torture kink: Now, we all know he wasn’t very nice when he was a Fatui Harbinger, AKA The Balladeer, so he wouldn’t hesitate on teasing you even in those intimate moments, he would take his little puppet fingers and trail them down on your body to give you a slight electrocution, but not too harsh of course, he wouldn’t want his toy to break that easily.

- (not a kink but eh) If you hc Scara as polyamorous too, he would loove being Spitroasted: Both his partners using both his holes?! Archons, he’ll gladly do it! He likes the feeling of being filled up in his throat and his ass/boypussy. (transmasc scara real?1?1?)

- To finish off the list, he would definitely have both Praising AND Degrading kink: For Wanderer would be praising, he would definitely whisper sweet things into your ear while kissing your neck.

“You’re doing a good job, my love. Just keep those pretty little eyes on me and tell me if anything hurts, okay?”

A true sweetheart, meanwhile there’s Fatui Scara, he’s not new to degrading people, so in bed wouldn’t make a difference, of course he’s not gonna roast your family’s fifth generation and make you cry in the shower, he’ll just tell you what he usually tells his subordinates and assistants while grabbing your thighs roughly.

“Hah, so pathetic, it’s not all the way in, yet here you are, whimpering and holding on me like the little bitch you are. Truly a sight, hm?”

In conclusion: He’s a switch! When he’s on top, he’ll be slow and gentle when you ask him to, but when’s he’s a sub, he’s completely your’s, but not only in bed, for the rest of your relationship, you’re his, and he’s your’s, forever and ever. ♡︎

TH3 END!

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my hu/b4nd :3 (i need to get him pregnant), if y0uv3 re4d this t1ll her3, h3llo and ty! If ur qu3stion1ng som3 kinks iv3 menti0n3d, ill expl4in it ag4in: im a hyp3rsexu4l/i have C0mpuls1ve s3xual Beh4vi0ur, hyp3rsexu4l is N0T A S3XUAL1TY!! It 1s a m3ntal dis0rder th4t mak3s you focus3 on 3xtreme and 1ntens3 sexu4l urg3s, f4ntasi3s and beh4vi0urs th4t cann0t be contr0led, i do h4ve a CNC k1nk and oth3r stuff lik3 that, i’v3 be3n thr0ugh thes3 traum4s and i’m well aw4re that th3se aren’t re4lly h3althy f0r me, but at th3 sam3 t1me i’m attr4cted to b3ing used ag4in, i h4te be1ng attr4cted to it. I will only wr1te st0ri3s w1th my k!nks only f0r ppl th4t can r3late to my tr4umas. Ty, and ily, tak3 c4re my ch3rubs!

#tw noncon #wanderer smut #scaramouche smut #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin scaramouche #cw noncon #cw vent

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cherryjuixce · 1 year

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Trust me. (Captain John Price x reader)

Warnings: swearing, slight mentions of reader being s/a in the past, if that triggers you please skip this one!, reader is a smoker.

A/N: This was requested by a lovely anon! Just for a disclaimer, this is completely platonic. It took me a long time to finish this because I haven't had the perfect time to actually write out all at once, and I don't know if It's even good or not but I hope I lived up to the expectations of my anon<3

Words: 2.4k

Your back was aching in absolute pain. The only thing on your mind is to go to bed, even though you knew you wouldn't get a lot of sleep as always.

Price was currently driving next to you. The silence between you two and the neat road making your eyes drop every few seconds because of how tired you were. The radio in the car was off, thinking about if you should turn it on or not crossed your mind many times, at the end deciding it was better off, even though the awkward silence was killing you.

You were on a mission with Gaz and him when it sidetracked a bit, making you and Price be seperated from Gaz due to Laswell's request of him helping her to find the drug cartels.

You never admitted it, but this was the first time you were alone with Price. He was always kind of intimidating to you, the reason why you guys actually never spent more alone time together. He was much older that's for sure so you felt like he didn't have much respect for you because you were a lot younger than him and constantly got yourself in trouble.

You reminded yourself of the times when he stared at you differently. Soap and you were getting back from training, talking about of how you both could improve and roasting each other a bit. Price was getting coffee in the kitchen when you walked in, passing by him.

"Ay Cap. Good morning"

"Good morning Captain."

"Good morning Soap" Price said while taking a sip of his coffee. "And morning y/n" He said changing his expression completely, almost mumbling while passing by you two.

You weren't confused, because it wasn't the first time he acted like that towards you. But you were pretty sure in that moment he didn't like you that much.

And yet here you were. In a car alone with him, trying to find the nearest hotel you can both sleep over in so you could continue the mission in the morning.

"You cold?" Price's sudden voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

"Ah, no I'm okay." You said with a nervous smile, turning your head back to the window trying to avoid his gaze.

Silence filled the air once again until you spoke up, trying to get rid of the akwardness between the two of you.

"Did uh, Gaz call?"

"Yes. He's still settled up with Laswell somewhere safe. We didn't exchange locations for security measures, but if something happens i'll let you know." Price said as he kept looking at the road in front of him, a bright sign slowly appearing close to us that said 'MOTEL'.

"Okay, good" You answered as Price turned slightly left nearing the Motel and parking in front of it.

---

You carried your bag as Price went in front of you, going up to the register. He talked to a woman working there asking for rooms as you looked around. The Motel wasn't anything fancy, but you would rather settle in a motorists hotel than somewhere on the street or some crappy old safe house.

It was pretty quiet inside of the Motel. But as you glanced at behind the register you could see just a few more keys on the key stand. Not paying much attention to it you walked around the lobby slowly, playing with the ends of your hair.

"Y/N, let's go." Price called out for you as he held up the keys in the air signalling to the elevator.

You both got inside, Price clicking number '3' as the low hum of the elevator going up could be the only sound you hear.

When you got to the door, Price unlocked it. Moving to the side he mumbled a quiet "after you" as you walked inside of the room, turning the lights on you stopped in your tracks.

You were definietly confused for a second, because at the right side of the wall you could only see one queen sized bed. Looking around, there was only a door to the left were you assumed was the bathroom, in front of the bed was a dresser and on top of it a small TV, as well as the door leading to the terrace.

"Uh, Captain did you order a queen sized bedroom on purpose or?" You said as you turned around to meet his gaze. Price was entering the room right as you turned around holding his bags.

"What are you talking about?-" Price said as he finally got next to you, realising that what you said was true. The beds weren't seperated, it was just one big bed perfectly fitted for a married couple or...worse.

"Um, I'll go downstairs and check with the receptionist." You said as you turned around leaving the room.

You knew it wasn't intentional, but the thought of sleeping in the same bed with Price made your palms sweat and your head hurt. Not because of him, you trusted Price more than you trusted yourself. It's because you were nervous. Nervous about the fact that you could share a bed with a man, and the last time you did that you trusted one too easily.

The elevator doors opened as you stepped inside the lobby again.

"Oh, hello again is everything alright?" The woman behind the reception called out.

"Actually not really. My uh- friend asked for a room with two single beds, and you gave us one with a queen sized bed."

"Oh I'm so sorry! But unfortunately we don't have any more single beds available."

"Not even one with a pull out, or a chair or anything?" Your voice was high pitched, while you awkwardly held your hands on top of the register. Hoping that she could have anything you asked for.

"I'm so sorry, we don't. If you came maybe a bit earlier we could've given you even two seperate rooms, but as you can see it's our busiest time of the year." The woman looked around, the christmas lights and a bright big colorful tree at the corner of the lobby showing that she had a point.

"Alright, uhm- could you sent extra pillows to our room by any chance?"

"Of course! And we're sorry again, I hope you have a good nights rest."

You hoped so too.

---

The door clicked shut behind you, Price was standing by the end of the bed, searching through his bag. He turned his head around at the sound of the door closing.

You sighed, throwing the pillows that you got on the floor as you sat next to him on the edge of the bed.

"They don't have any other rooms available."

Price hummed, continuing to search through his bag once again. Your back connected with the bed as you kicked your feet, huffing at a few strands of your hair.

"Soo what are we gonna do now?"

"I'm going to go take a shower." Price said as he finally took some stuff from his duffle bag and left the room. The sound of the water coming from the shower head draining your thoughts away as you got up a bit, propping yourself on the bed with your hands.

"Don't worry darling, I'm not gonna hurt you."

The line coming to your head, reminding you of what could happen again. You got up from the bed immiediately stripping down from your clothes, taking the time while Price wasn't in the room to undress and take a few pillows to make your own bed on the floor.

You rushed to the light switch to turn the lights off, the only light source now peeking through the bathroom doors. Quickly getting yourself on the ground you closed your eyes shut, pretending to sleep so Price wouldn't protest, if he even would.

The sound of the water stopped and some shuffling was heard from inside of the bathroom as the door finally opened after a few minutes.

It was quiet at first, Price stood at the bathroom entrance confused, seeing your sleeping figure on the floor. He sighed as he got closer, inhaling a bit, he wanted to say something. Tell you you shouldn't sleep on the floor when there's a perfectly good bed next to you. To tell you an old man like him should be asleep on the floor, not you. To tell you you were safe with him, and that you can trust your Captain enough to sleep next to him.

But he didn't wanna wake you up. As much as he wanted to, he knew how tired you were. Reminding himself a few hours earlier how your head would drop every few seconds in the car but yet you wouldn't let yourself sleep.

So he got in the bed, dissapointed in himself of how he didn't say earlier that he should be the one sleeping on the floor.

---

You were squirming.

That's right. It was so fucking uncomfortable to sleep on the floor. Surprisingly it wasn't your first time, there were worse places that you've slept in. But the hard wood floor was killing your back, and it suddenly got extremely cold as you didn't have any blankets with you.

You got up quietly peeking up at the bed, the only light source you had was from the moonlight and some street lights outside, seeing Price soundly asleep as he lightly snored. Standing up slowly, you sneaked towards your duffle bag pulling a sweatshirt from it and putting it over the t shirt you were currently wearing.

You knew that you wouldn't be able to sleep tonight as you glanced at your watch on your wrist, seeing that it was 3:08 am. So you took your pack of cigarettes out of your jacket pocket and headed out to the terrace. The cool air instantly hitting your face as you quietly tried to open the door from the terrace.

You sat on the plastic chair that was close to the railing. Lighting down your cigarette, you took a big puff out from it.

"What, you think I'll try something with you just because you're a woman? You're funny."

"But I didn't even mention you'd try anything.."

"I know. But that's what most women think so I just wanted to clarify."

"Um yeah, you're right. Silly me." You answered as you fidgeted with your hands, standing at the edge of the bed.

"Well? Come on. Get in the bed."

You hesitated for a second as you finally got under the covers, laying so close to the edge to try and not make any physical touch.

Not expecting for him to actually pull you in, holding you by your waist.

You cringed at the memory, not wanting to think about it any further, but the past resurfacing because this exact same thing happened to you once before.

You were even younger back then, not knowing what to do in the situation or if it was right or wrong.

"You shouldn't have worn those shorts to bed."

It wasn't your fault, right?

Sniffing, you used the sleeve from your sweater to wipe down the tears.

"You're awake."

You gasped at the sudden voice, turning around you placed your palm on your chest where your heart was and saw Price leaning at the doorway to the terrace.

"Captain, you scared the shit out of me."

"And you scared the shit out of me. Why the hell are you awake y/n." Price said as he sat on the plastic chair that was next to you.

"Sorry Captain, it was too uncomfortable to sleep on the floor.."

"So why didn't ya' wake me up?"

"What, why?" You looked at him, shaking your head a bit. The cigarette already burning out.

"Because I should be the one sleeping on the floor."

You stayed quiet, still looking at each other.

"And you've been crying, so clearly there's something more than just an uncomfortable floor." Price sighed as he looked away from you, gazing at the stars.

To be honest, you didn't know what to say. Because you couldn't say that you didn't trust your Captain and that it was just your stupid imagination that thought you could get hurt again.

"Captain, please go back to sleep."

"I'm not leaving until you go to bed." Price said as he leaned more in the chair.

"You can't do this, you can't- do this to me right now." You said, your voice stuttering a bit.

Price turned around to look at you and stayed quiet for a moment.

"I don't want you to lose your sleep because of me Captain."

"Fine, then let's both sleep in the bed." Price said finally as he stood up not looking back at you.

"Wait! No, I don't wanna- do that." You said as you stood up, your voice dying out at the end as Price turned around to look at you. His expression changing, as if he was intrigued by your statement.

"May I ask why, sergeant."

You glanced around the room, not daring to meet his gaze again as you rubbed the palms of your hands onto your sides.

"Do I have to say, why?"

Price looked at you as he let his hands fall to his sides, his gaze softening.

"Nevermind I'll just sleep on the floor-" You passed by him as Price took your arm stopping you in your tracks.

"Y/N..you know that I wouldn't let anything happen to you, and I most certainly wouldn't do it myself."

You looked at him again, his face showing that he meant every word.

Price looked around for a second, seeing the pillows on the floor he let go of your arm and placed three pillows in the middle of the bed, seperating both sides.

"Are you,- comfortable with this?" You blinked, not knowing what to say. Finally nodding your head as you stepped on the other side of the bed.

Hesitantly, you took the covers and got in the bed. Price doing the same as you felt him lay down next to you. Your breath hitched as you stared at the ceiling, glancing at your side where one pillow was you couldn't see his face. You slightly gripped the pillow and moved it to your side hugging it, Price's face now being clear.

"Is this okay?" Price asked as you nodded at his question.

"Thank you, Captain."

"Price. Please call me Price you're making me feel old."

You huffed a laughter, a small smile forming on your face.

"Thank you, Price."

Price smiled at you as he closed his eyes, you doing the same.

Not even expecting to sleep better than you have in a while.

#captain john price #price x reader #request #one bed trope #platonic #price angst #cod mw2 fanfic #modern warfare 2 #price fanfiction #price imagine

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mattzerella-sticks · 1 month

Text

an outsider's point of view (ao3)

2.4 k, Buck/Eddie, Secret Relationship

Eddie and Buck are keeping their relationship a secret from their family. Only their family. The rest of the world was fair game, it seemed.

“They’re doing it again.”

Chapman looked up from her book at West, who had paused his game to slyly nod over towards their station’s workout space. They had the perfect view of it from where they sat, of Diaz clobbering the punching bag while Buckley held it. Buckley, watching Diaz lob punch after punch with love burning so brightly behind his gaze its glare made it hard for Chapman to stare at them for long without squinting and snickering.

“How is it,” West continued, speaking in a whisper, “they haven’t been caught yet?”

Diaz had finished his quarrel with the punching bag by then, both he and Buckley leaving it to swing as they moved over to the weights section. Diaz’s hand hovered at Buckley’s lower back before, during, and after the short trek.

“They’ve been caught,” Chapman corrected him. She remembered finding them mid-embrace in the locker room with their uniforms half-on a month before, West telling her about them holding hands during a ride out to a call two weeks before that, and the many other stories from their crew who had stumbled on them and immediately went and gossiped about it. “Just not by the people that matter, apparently…”

She stared beyond Buckley and Diaz, to where Captain Nash chatted with his right and left hands, Wilson and Han, beside an ambulance. They were blissfully unaware of how Buckley and Diaz’s fingers brushed against each other as Diaz passed along some weights to the other firefighter.

“Do you think they know, and just aren’t saying anything?” West asked, “To not… make it such a big deal?”

“No. I really think they don’t know.”

“Aren’t they always hanging out though?”

“They aren’t hanging out any more than usual, from what I’ve heard.”

“I meant them as a whole, as their… group. Shouldn’t someone have figured out they’re dating by now?”

“Not if they’re keeping it secret.”

“But they’re doing such an awful job at it.”

Buckley stole a glance at where Nash, Wilson, and Han were gathered, to confirm they’re still engrossed in their conversation, in their inspection of the ambulance, and then peppered Eddie’s sheeny shoulder with featherlight kisses which Eddie accepted with a smile, an eye roll, and the softest hip check Chapman ever saw.

She spotted Jackson staring down at them from the top of the stairs and met his exasperation with a sigh and a wry shake of her head.

Chapman explained, “We only think they’re bad at it because they’re not trying to hide it from us. Only… them… for whatever reason.”

“It’s not like they wouldn’t be happy they’re together.”

“Of course.” Chapman cracked her book back open yet didn’t return to reading it. “After they ribbed the shit out of them.”

“Oh, I’d pay to see that.”

“Or even be able to listen at the captain’s door when it happened.”

“Nash wouldn’t have to say anything. He’d just sit them down and watch them until they self-destructed.”

West laughed, and Chapman did, too.

“Then he’d say how disappointed he was in them for keeping this a secret,” Chapman added. “And spend the next hour going over the HR report they’d need to file.”

“Don’t forget about Hen. And Chimney.” West leaned closer as he wheezed, “Those two would be there, too, roasting them to hell and back.”

“Han’s probably been waiting for something like this,” Chapman said, “something he can hold over Buckley’s head as revenge for those early days when he was dating his sister.”

“Those were a good couple of weeks… like that time Chimney chased Buck all around the fire house? I can’t remember why –“

“Because he drew all over his face while he was asleep! And sent pictures of it to his sister.”

“Right! How could I –“ West and Chapman were laughing too hard, and West accidentally let out a giant snort as he gasped for breath that certainly echoed throughout the station. “Forget.”

Chapman felt the prickling sensation of being watched as if each pair of eyes were a nail scraping across her cheek. She saw, out the corner of her eye, the core five from the 118, stared at her and West. Some amused. Some curious. All too much for someone who, unlike them, preferred being in the shadows.

She cleared her throat and turned, burying her nose in her book. “When it does happen,” she hissed, “hopefully it’ll be on one of the days I chose.”

West scoffed. “In your dreams. I’m winning that bet.”

Their conversation fell off as West resumed playing his game and Chapman scanned her book line by line. However, she wasn’t really paying attention to what she read. The words faded into a jumbled mess all the way through to the end of the chapter, with Chapman’s concentration more on the sensation from moments ago that, while not as strong as before, remained. Two nails were tickling the nape of her neck. Two sets of eyes hadn’t moved on.

Chapman stood and headed towards the lockers to put her book away.

Wilson and Han followed and cornered her a moment later.

“Everything good?” Chapman asked them. She tried to maintain some air of coolness, to wear a placid expression she cobbled together from her suddenly spotty memories.

Not that it mattered. Wilson saw past it, as if she wore it like the plastic visor on her helmet.

“Thought we should be asking you that,” she said, leaning against the lockers to Chapman’s right, while Han stood at her left. “Are you good?”

“Yeah. You seem a little…” Han stepped forward, startling Chapman. “Jumpy.”

“I’m fine,” she squeaked.

They exchanged glances in front of her. They did not believe her. Chapman hadn’t believed herself.

“You sure?” Wilson continued. She eyed the book still clutched in Chapman’s paling hands. “Maybe it was something you read?”

Chapman hemmed. She hawed. It lasted only a scant few seconds but even that felt too long until she decided on, “Yeah. I – there’s this part in this book that was really, kinda… it hit me hard.”

“And West found that funny?”

Her eyes shut fast and hard as she hissed. “Shit.”

There wasn’t any more denying she’d been caught, the threads of her lie tangled around her ankles.

When she opened her eyes Han had moved next to Wilson to present a more united front. Their faces had softened, however, now that the game was over.

“You can tell us,” Han said. “We love a good joke. To laugh.”

“Even if it’s about us,” Wilson added.

“Well let’s not go too far.”

Chapman noticed a rather small crowd gathered at a distance outside the locker room. A loose assembly of firefighters that wouldn’t draw suspicion. West had abandoned his video game and Jackson left the lofted kitchen, and they stood with Portch and Ortiz watching her wriggle inside this glass trap with practiced casualness.

At least escape wasn’t impossible, just difficult.

“We were… reminiscing,” she admitted. “About that time Buckley drew all those pictures on your face.”

Wilson’s barked laughter was sudden and sharp, like a knife sneaking out to dip into Han’s side without getting stuck. She threw a hand over her mouth, but she wasn’t fast enough. Han responded to her with heavy side-eye.

She shrugged, “Sorry.”

Han accepted the gesture and, while staunching his flesh wound, turned on Chapman again. “What made you think about that?”

The stares from the others outside felt so obvious, like each firefighter was trying to shove their hands into her mouth and stop her from telling them what was going on, what had been happening beneath their noses for months, what was quickly bubbling up her throat because, despite being fine under pressures such as burning buildings or terrific accidents, something about the duo’s combined energy was more than her resolve could handle. The secret rose and rose. It burned her tongue and made her teeth tingle. She spat, “Because we were talking about Buckley.”

Han’s brows furrowed as he asked, “What about Buck?”

“I…” Chapman hated how easily she folded, especially today. When in three days it’d be her betting window and the money would’ve gone to her and not Smitt, who hadn’t even had the opportunity to catch Buckley or Diaz in some compromising position at all. An undeserved victory. “West and I were talking about what you’d do when… you, the rest of you, figured out Buckley was dating Diaz.”

First there was silence. Then a low chuckle that came from Han, followed by Wilson, which became boisterous and teetered on the edge of manic before they ran out of air.

Wilson leaned on Han and patted her straining cheeks with the back of her hand. “I hadn’t had a good laugh like that in a long time.”

“I know. I think I threw my back out because of it.”

They coughed up the dregs of their mirth and searched for its reflection in Chapman. Her wide eyes and thin lips told them a different story. The duo sobered.

“Buck? And Eddie?” Wilson said, “Are you sure?”

Chapman nodded.

“No,” Han said. “You – look just because Eddie’s gay, and Buck’s bi doesn’t mean…” He paused, trying to figure out how he might end his thought. He lamely added, “They can be close without it being dating.”

“But they are dating. We’ve seen it.”

“We?”

Chapman sang. She told them about Buckley and Diaz. How nearly all the other firefighters in the 118 had seen them, at one point or another, entangled in situations that went far beyond what was considered ‘friendship’. About the betting pool they started, the many pools, about which of their friends would find them first, how it might happen, what day, time, if it happened during a call or not – the list was endless. She ran out of things to say after that and gathered enough courage to peek at her colleagues.

Han jaw hung, slack, like rope that had been cut. Wilson better reined in her surprise but the traces of it were obvious in her expression, in how she scratched her head and pursed her lips.

“That’s…” she started. “It’s…” she tried again. “Huh,” she said.

That snapped Han into action. He attempted one last blustering effort of denial. “If Buck and Eddie were dating, we’d know. Okay?”

“Would you?” Chapman asked, “Do you even know they’re sharing a locker?”

And, because no one in the 118 locked their lockers, Chapman flung back Buckley’s empty locker followed by Diaz’s stuffed one. She was driven by adrenaline born from the relief of finally being able to talk about the couple after being denied it for months. The consequences of this, which weighed heavily on her mind at the onset of their conversation, were forgotten.

But staring at the resignation on both Wilson and Han’s faces as they eyed the open lockers brought these consequences roaring back.

She shuffled awkwardly under the tense silence, thinking of what she could say except she had nothing. What could she add that might make this easier for them, more manageable? To explain why they kept it secret? Chapman and the other members of the 118 theorized and joked but, truthfully, no one understood exactly what the reason for it was when they were both so well loved by everyone and so obviously in love. No one except Buckley and Diaz knew why they were acting at being just friends.

An act Chapman’s big mouth ruined.

“If that’s… all?” Wilson and Han said nothing. “Okay.”

Chapman left without replacing her book in her locker and with Captain Nash’s lunch doing somersaults and cartwheels in her stomach.

She stepped into the waiting cluster of their audience, answering their questions with a haggard wince.

“Shit,” West said. “Does this mean Smitt wins the bet?”

“I guess.” In the end, that was the only thing Chapman felt certain of.

EPILOGUE

Josh watched Maddie speak with Chimney on her phone over the rim of his coffee mug. She was rolling her eyes every few seconds, scoffing, and though she whispered he heard bits and pieces of what she said. “That can’t be true.” “They’re making things up.” “There’s got to be a reason for it that’s not… that.”

Finally, after scrubbing a hand through her hair and flaring her nostrils Maddie ended the call with a curt, “We’ll talk about this later. At home.” Then she placed her phone face down and pressed her hands into her face.

When Josh could see her eyes again he asked, “What was that about?”

Maddie chuckled. “You won’t believe it.”

“Try me.”

“Apparently,” she stressed each syllable of the word. “A few people over at the 118 are con-vinced Buck and Eddie are dating.” More laughter. “Isn’t that nuts.”

Josh stared at her.

“It’s nuts, right?”

His eyes were wider than satellite dishes.

“Why aren’t you agreeing with me here, Josh?”

“W-well…” Josh set his coffee down. His empty hands wrong themselves senseless. “It is nuts; I’ll admit. But…”

“But?”

“It’s not like it isn’t… possible.”

Josh had stopped looking at her during his explanation but, finished, he snuck a glance at her. Her gaze was sharp and struck his shoulder like an arrow.

“What do you know?”

“It’s not what I know –“

“Josh!”

“I saw them out at a club a few weeks ago,” he told her. “I saw them on the dance floor, on each other. On top of each other. It was… it was a lot.”

Even now the memory of it overwhelms Josh, causing him to warm considerably beneath his collar. Buck and Eddie drew every eye in the club as they rolled against each other, inspiring love, desire, and envy with every cant of their hips. Josh saw Eddie’s hands curl around Buck’s neck, Buck pull Eddie so their chests were flushed together, their smiles disappear into a kiss and had to close his tab and flee because it was as if he stumbled on something he, truly anyone, was meant to see. The club was theirs that night and Josh surrendered it easily.

He hadn’t known if he should or shouldn’t tell Maddie, until it was too late.

“So Buck and Eddie are dating?”

“Yeah.”

“Buck, my brother, and Eddie, his best friend, are… dating?”

Josh repeated himself.

Maddie nodded and picked up her phone. She pressed it to her ear as it rang. Then, she said, “I know I said we’d talk about this later but you are not going to believe what I just heard…”

#9-1-1 on abc #evan 'buck' buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #buck x eddie #buddie fanfic #henrietta wilson #howie chimney han #maddie buckley #josh russo #the 118

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pearlparty · 2 years

Text

Goodbye, Angel

Austin!Elvis x Reader, Elvis x Reader

Summary: Break ups are tough, especially when no one did anything wrong. She wants Elvis’ career to reach the heights he deserves, even if that means breaking his heart.

Warnings: Angst, very light smut (if you can even call it that lol), some negative self-talk, the Colonel is a dick, mild language, reckless driving, no use of y/n

Word Count: 5.3k (I went a little overboard sorry lol)

Note: I tried something a little new with this and have this in 3rd person perspective because I wanted to do more of an omniscient POV to get everyone’s emotions and stuff, so please let me know if you hate it--like please be mean to me about it. Bully me. Roast me. Let me know if you prefer 2nd person perspective (the one that uses you/your) I want to improve lol. This is meant to be a reader fic, so our MC is only called Baby by Elvis. Idk if that technically makes her an OC or not--I’ll let you decide on that one.

The headlights stretched down the road, the lonely beams reaching out in the night only to find nothing but a few trees reaching toward the stars. No wandering eyes. No other drivers. Just her and the car coasting down the lonely backroad, with a sense of dread settling into her stomach and tears streaming down her face as the radio played and the moon watched.

Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision, as the Colonel’s words echoed in her mind. He’d stopped by her small apartment a couple of hours ago, and she was far too polite to slam the door in his face and send him on his way. Mama had always taught her to be gracious to guests and “do what Jesus would do” so she allowed him to waddle in, plop into one of the armchairs, curl his chubby fingers over the creepy clown on his cane and say what he needed to say. The bizarre situation had her wondering what this man would have to say to her, but she’d never have guessed he had the audacity to insult her to her face.

It was a quick conversation. He skipped over pleasantries and got straight to the point by bringing up Elvis’s popularity with the younger female fans, and flat out said that if she continued her relationship with him, things wouldn’t work out like they could. “He needs to be available,” the fat man had put it plainly, “and with you in the picture, he can’t be. Besides, a backwater, country girl like you can’t compete with the love of his fans.” If he noticed the emotions flitting over her face, he didn’t comment on it and instead pushed further. “You are no good for him, or his career. You need to leave him, or he will not be able to achieve the success he deserves.” He’d said the words so matter of fact in his stupid voice that she almost wondered if it was a cruel joke.

It wasn’t.

“You don’t want to be the reason that he can’t live his dream do you?” His question rang in her ears and an intense guilt settled into her stomach.

It was crushing, but nothing she hadn’t heard before. She’d occasionally listened to the insecure voice in the back of her head--the one that reminded her that she didn’t really deserve Elvis--her angel--or how he’d swept her into his arms and given her an escape from her drunken mother all that time ago.

Their friendship had begun when they were so young; she'd stopped a few of the other boys from poking fun at his stutter in 9th grade and they’d bonded over their love of comics and music. He’d made time for her outside his friends and loved inviting her over after school. He’d say it was so they could read Captain Marvel Jr. or do homework together, but she knew he was trying to help her get away from her chaotic homelife for a little longer. It had blossomed into something more after graduation when they shared a night of stargazing, confessing their secrets to the moon.

He’d stolen a kiss and her heart in the same night.

They had it all--giggling and wandering hands in movie theaters, disagreements about the condiments that belonged on hot dogs, and soft reassurances after long crying sessions. He’d become her safe haven, a piece of tranquility in her hectic home life. He always listened intently and did what he could to help where he could, even if she said she’d be fine and could do it herself. He even helped her when she moved out and got her own place--a shitty little apartment with creaky floorboards and a faucet that dripped a little too loudly at night. He’d offered to spot her some cash for a better place, but she declined. The apartment wasn’t the Ritz, but it was hers. All hers. They’d spend hours there, away from the prying eyes of family, talking about everything and nothing. She supported his dream for the arts, encouraged him to take risks. Once he’d landed a deal at Sun Records and gotten more attention, that small voice prodded again.

What if I’m not good enough for him?

The voice nagged that she’d be bad for his image and prevent him from climbing to the heights that he wished to see. She usually dismissed the thoughts, but hearing them out loud and from another person only seemed to confirm the worst of her fears.

She was the worst thing that could happen to him right now. She was holding him back.

The fat man had finished things with a simple, “You understand don’t you? It’s just business.” She forced herself to nod before calmly ushering him out of her house, a whisper of stale cigar smoke lingering in the air.

It was only after his car left the parking lot that she allowed herself to cry--a dull ache erupted in her chest and spread to her extremities as she considered her options. Stay with the love of her life but jeopardize his career, or leave and break both of their hearts to help him succeed? Would he resent her if she became the reason things tanked and he couldn’t afford to give his family a life of luxury? What if she was worrying about nothing and everything would be fine? Maybe they could have it all: the glamor and the love. But it wasn’t guaranteed. Nothing ever was. The road to success is paved with sacrifices, and while it holds promises of fortune and glory, it always takes its toll along the way.

But the Colonel was right, wasn’t he? About everything. Elvis had just gotten a taste of fame, and the adjustment was already harder than she’d expected. She could barely keep up with it all now. How could a little backwater country girl like her follow him to more? She was just a simple girl meant for a simple life--built to drift along the wind on the trees. He was born for greatness--ready to spread his wings and fly. He couldn’t coast along the wind currents along the tree line with her, not when he was meant to soar with the angels in the clouds. She wouldn’t let him. She wouldn’t be the one to hold him back.

Racing to the car, throwing it into gear, and speeding away wasn’t intentional on her part. It might have seemed like eagerness and excitement, but that couldn’t be further from it. She loathed the idea of what she was about to do, dreaded it the whole way over, but her chest was so heavy and filled with emotions that she felt like it would burst. She needed to get it over with and fast or she’d suffocate. “Rip it off like a bandage--act like a grownup,” she’d told herself.

The high beams flickered over the sign ahead, its white lettering a stark contrast to the red surrounding it. STOP. A wet laugh left her lips.

I can’t.

She didn’t hit the brakes or let up on the gas--she floored it. The engine groaned with effort, accelerating to a speed well above the limit, but she didn’t care and blazed through it without a second thought. Her car zoomed into the intersection, and a pair of headlights beamed into her passenger window. A horn blared, but it didn’t matter. She was reckless, angry, and secretly hoping that something would come along to prevent her from reaching her destination. The tires screamed as they scraped the pavement, the back bumper kissing the asphalt with a flash of sparks as the car climbed the small hill. The other driver zoomed through the intersection behind her, likely shaking their fist in the darkness, but still in one piece.

She’d made it through unscathed. Dammit.

A sudden burst of fury bled through the sharp sadness and left her skin hot. She smacked her fist into the wheel. “This isn’t fair!” she cried, angry tears burning behind her eyes. “Why can’t I have the things I want?!” No one was there to hear, though. Just an empty road and the moon spying through her back window.

A light orchestra faded in over the radio followed by Bing Crosby’s jazzy crooning. It was a ballad.

Be careful. It’s my heart.

It’s not my watch you’re holding, it’s my heart.

It’s not the note I sent you, that you quickly burned.

It’s not the book I lent you that you never returned.

Remember, it’s my hear--

The guilt in her stomach crawled up her throat as she slammed the radio in the dashboard, silencing Bing and his pleas. It seemed everything was telling her to turn around. To give the Colonel the finger and continue loving her dark haired angel, consequences be damned.

But she knew she couldn’t.

***

A sharp knock on his door cut through the still house caused Elvis to jump. His brow furrowed as he glanced at the clock. About a quarter after nine. Who would be stopping by now? He wasn’t expecting anyone, and Mama and Daddy wouldn’t be home until tomorrow afternoon when they’d finished visiting a family friend.

He closed his book and set it on the side table as he rose from the armchair and padded over to the door. He’d gotten home only about a half an hour ago after rehearsing with the guys. He needed a little peace and quiet after the long week, and reveled in being able to kick off his shoes and relax in the empty house.

The sweet, humid southern air fell around his sock clad feet as he pulled the door open to see his girl on the welcome mat. His lips curved into a smile at the pleasant surprise. She was wearing that little yellow flower sundress that he loved--the one with the sweetheart neckline and ruffled skirt that brought his attention to her hips whenever she moved. She’d paired it with a white cardigan tonight, even though the heat wave didn’t allow the temperature to drop below 85. God, she was beautiful.

His smile dropped when he saw the tears in her eyes, the quiver of her chin, and the way her gaze never left his. Something was wrong.

“Baby, what--” He moved to step forward, bring his hand to her face and wipe the tears from her cheek, but she swept into the apartment and pressed her lips to his before he could get a chance to do or say anything else. He stumbled back for only a second before he found his footing, melting into her. Another pleasant surprise. Her trembling fingers grazed their way across his face, caressing his cheeks before tangling in his hair. On instinct, his hands planted themselves firmly to her waist. The tang of salt ran over his tongue as she took his full lower lip between hers.

She’d never kissed him like this before. There was intensity, fervor, yes, but something was off. She had given him gentle chaste kisses when he bought her flowers for her birthday. She’d nipped, sucked, and kissed down his jaw to his collarbones when they’d gone stargazing after a midnight swim in the pond near her house. She’d grabbed him by the collar, pushed him against the kitchen wall and slammed her lips into his after a heated argument about jealousy (which he’d won, by the way). She had breathed moans to his lips when he stole open mouth kisses during a night of passion after he’d been away for so long.

This was different. It was desperate. Needy. And something else that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Sorrowful, maybe.

A quick sob fell from her lips before she pressed them up to his again. Her hands twisted his curls, gently tugging. His breath hitched and he tightened his grip on her hips. As much as he wanted to continue kissing her (and he really wanted to after what she just did), he needed to know what had happened to make her so upset. He wrapped his fingers around her wrists and gently eased her backward, feeling her chase his lips as the distance grew between their bodies.

Her eyes were still screwed shut, and the light in the foyer made it easier now to see the puffy, red irritation in her face. A pang of sorrow bit into his heart. She’s been sobbing, he thought. She bit back another cry when her small trembling hands dropped to his chest, gripping his black button down. He hated seeing her like this.

“Baby,” he cooed, letting his hands move to her shoulders before he brought one up to caress her cheek. She didn’t move to look at him--she focused on his shirt as his fingers ran over her splotchy skin. “Baby, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” He kept his voice soft, low, afraid that he might scare her off with anything louder.

A wet, wry laugh escaped her chest. Ironic, she thought. She came here to do the worst thing imaginable and he was still looking out for her. She shook her head. He’s too good to me. She steadied herself, fixated on his shirt as she rolled the soft fabric between her fingers. Finally, she met his concerned gaze.

The deep blue oceans in his irises threatened to pull her down into their depths. She wished they would. Maybe then she wouldn’t have to do this and everything would be alright. His fingers stilled on her cheek.

She could practically feel the dread growing in his chest.

A light breeze ghosted over the two of them, the door still agape. He didn’t move to close it, though. His only priority was the girl in front of him. She’s all that mattered.

She sucked in a breath, gathering every ounce of strength she had in her body before speaking. “I’m sorry.” It came out more as a whisper. “I just had to kiss you one last time.” She allowed her thumb to graze his lower lip and chin before settling on the sliver of exposed skin on his chest.

“‘One last’?--” he shook his head as if dismissing the words because he’d clearly misheard her. “What are you talking about, baby?” Both hands were cupping her face now. “Just tell me what’s wrong, and I’ll fix it for you,” he urged. Panic almost crept into his voice, but he kept it soft and low as he tried to understand. He searched her face for any kind of clue, something that told him that she really didn’t mean what she’d just said. His heart caught in his chest.

Surely, she couldn’t mean one last time, right?

“Oh, angel,” she breathed out as she brought her fingers to his cheek, “you always were much too good to me.”

“Baby, what’s goin--”

“I have to leave, angel,” she cried, almost in pain. The words cut him off and struck him to the bone. Leave?

“For how long?” he asked, brow furrowing.

She shook her head, tears spilling over her lashes, not wanting to say the words. It was too painful. Please, don’t make me say it.

“For how long, baby?” he repeated, locking eyes with her. Her heart sank at the nickname. He loved calling her that--more than her real name.

“Forever.” She had to force it out in a whisper.

“‘Forever’?” he repeated. Why was she being so cryptic? “Baby, what the hell you talkin’ ‘bout?” She held his gaze, another tear staining her cheek, but didn’t answer.

He stared at her for a moment, processing it all. Leaving? Forever? But that would mean…

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. His eyes flitted over her face for any sign that it wasn’t true. Her glassy gaze was unwavering, serious. Final.

“No,” he whispered, shaking his head and dropping his hands. He barely even noticed her apologizing again as he backed away, knocking into the wall behind him. As if escaping would make this all go away. His quaking hands raked through his hair, grasping at the roots to try to rationalize the scene playing out before him.

“No,” he repeated the whisper, sadder than the last one. His mouth fell open, trying to find the right words, fighting off the tears burning behind his eyes. “You c-c-can’t--you’re not--why--no,” he stammered, swallowing thickly. “You’re l-leaving me?” His stutter always seemed to come back when he was stressing out.

He was hoping, praying for her to shake her head no. Say it was all a cruel joke, or a moment of panic--something that said she really loved him and it was fine. Pull him into her arms and sit there for a moment as she whispered soft reassurances in his ear.

But that moment never came. Her small fingers played with the hem of her cardigan as she nodded and muttered, “I have to.”

“No! No, you don’t have to go!” he yelped. The panic crawled over his skin. “I-I-I can-- I-I can fix this!” He couldn’t lose her. “W-w-what--whatever’s wrong, I can fix it, baby! We’ll figure it all out t-t-together, just like we n--we n--we n-n-normally do.” He grabbed her hands, begging her to reconsider, but she slipped from his grasp and took a step back, silently shaking her head.

“No, angel… I have to go--you need to let me go.” She couldn’t meet his eyes.

His future shattered. Heart dropped. He’d made so many plans for them. He was going to marry her--they were going to have a summer wedding and a beautiful honeymoon somewhere nice, far away from home. They were going to spend a few years worshiping each other then start a family--two boys and a little girl that he was going to spoil rotten. They were going to get a dog and play in the backyard while she baked a pie in the house. He was going to steal kisses from her when she came around the corner with a basket of laundry. They’d put the kids to bed and stay up late dancing to old records. He wanted to send his kids outside to play while he made love to his wife inside after he’d been away from her for too long. They were supposed to grow old together and then die a few days apart because life would be unbearable without each other.

He’d wanted it all, and here she was throwing it in his face.

“B-but why--?” He’d barely breathed the question out when she cut him off.

“I’m not good for you, baby,” she rushed the words out, resisting every urge to reach out and touch him, hold him, make him feel better. Dammit, why did this have to be so hard?

“What?” How the hell could she think that? “No, b-b-baby you’re--you’re--you’re everythin’ to me,” he reeled off, desperately grabbing her hands again. Maybe there was still a chance to fix this. “You’re so good for me, you d-don’t even realize--you make me so much b-b-b-better.”

The worst part about his words was how true they were, and she knew it. They both made each other better, but she still vehemently shook her head, hoping to stop this whole thing--end it now before she had to say something she didn’t want to.

“I have to do this,” she squeaked out. A new wave of sadness broke over her, more tears gathering on her lash line. “Please, let me do this.”

It was like a knife to his heart. Their fate was sealed. There was no negotiating. Once she’d made up her mind, no one, not even he could convince her otherwise. He suddenly found himself full of regret, another emotion to add to the cocktail of feelings in his bloodstream. Maybe he did something wrong--didn’t appreciate her enough or let her know how much he cared.

The blue in his eyes only seemed to intensify with the glassy tears shimmering back at her. “But,” he choked out, his voice small, almost meek, “I love you.” The tears in his eyes finally spilled onto his cheeks, streaking down the soft skin and towards the corners of his lips.

Her heart squeezed, chin quivered. Oh, how she wished to say it back. She squeezed his hands and pressed a gentle wet kiss to his knuckles, the cool metal of his silver ring briefly soothing the heat in her cheeks. She sucked in a shaky breath, and pressed her forehead to his, breathing in his scent, committing it to memory.

“That’s why I have to go,” she murmured, a wave of tears falling over her lashes as her voice broke. “I promise you, angel, it’s better this way. It’s better if I go. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.”

She gave his hands a tight squeeze before letting go and turning to walk back into the warm night air, but stopped short at the door’s threshold. Tentatively, she turned back towards him, her heart beating fast and loud in her chest. His chest rose and fell quickly, biting back another round of sobs as he ran his ringed fingers through his hair. Steel blue eyes met hers.

Just one last kiss, she told herself before turning on her heel.

He met her halfway, pulling her into his arms and crashing his lips to hers, arms wrapping around to pull each her impossibly close. Despite feeling so good to have her pressed against him like this, he couldn’t ignore the ache in his chest. It seemed that knowing this was their last kiss made it more painful. Each second that passed meant she was one second closer to walking out of his life.

They moved with the familiar rhythm they’d perfected over their time courting. He breathed her in, hoping God would show him mercy and slow time just long enough for him to savor every last second with her. He wanted each one burned into his memory. The feel of her soft flesh beneath his fingers, the sound of her breath, the scent of her hair, even the taste of her tears on her tongue as they kissed--everything. He didn’t want to miss a single detail. He deepened the kiss, gripping the fabric on her waist as though she might disappear if he loosened his grip.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into her mouth, a tear slipping from his eyes and melting between the mess of kisses. “Oh, baby, ’m so sorry,” he whimpered. His hand cupped her face, sorrow and regret lining his features as a sob raked through his chest. A pang of guilt hit her square in the chest.

“It’s not your fault, angel,” she gently corrected him, tugging on his hair and pulling his lips to hers for a quick kiss. “It’s not your fault that I had to ruin this.” Her voice broke, quaking at the thought. “I ruined this, not you. You…” she paused and sucked in a shaky breath, looking to the stars for strength. “You are, and always be, my angel.” She could only leave and wish him the best with his career--with her out of the picture it would be fine and he could reach for the stars like he wanted to. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She brushed a tear from his face again, hoping that he could read the sincerity in her eyes. He never did anything wrong--it was simply against his nature, but that didn’t stop him from beating himself up.

He kept her close to his face, his hand firm behind her head as they soaked in the moment, foreheads resting against each other softly. His breath shuddered through his lungs as he looked at her through his dark tear soaked lashes. The word slipped from his lips before he had the chance to stop it.

“Please,” a whine edged into his voice as he begged her with his eyes. Begged her for more time, a chance to celebrate what they’d once had. She read him like a book, understanding immediately. His fingers tangled themselves in her hair as she looked up at him, hesitating to indulge both of their desires.

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” she whispered. As painful as this was for her, she knew it was worse for him--she never even gave him a real reason. Her angel didn’t deserve this kind of torment, not when he’d done so much for her. He’d welcomed her with open arms, and she wrenched a blade through his heart.

“I don’t care if it hurts,” he rasped, his voice coming out a little more husky from the crying. “I can’t end it like this,” his voice broke as he pressed closer so their noses were touching. He wanted to delay her departure as much as possible. He needed to be in her presence a little longer. End it right. They couldn’t part ways like this: sobbing messes clinging to each other in the doorway. “A little more hurt won’t kill me, baby,” his soft voice fluttered into her hair. “I just need you here a little longer.”

She didn’t want to end it this way either. If their story was going to end, at least let it be bittersweet. Close this chapter of their lives on something a little less heartbreaking than weeping in each other's arms. She could be with him one last time, really appreciate what she had before she let him go, and show him how much she cared.

Maybe it could be the salve that soothed the agony of this moment. Maybe they could fool themselves that delaying the inevitable wouldn’t hurt more than leaving now. This can make us feel a little better about it all.

It was a lie, and she knew it, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to be with him one last time.

Her lips met his again slowly, and she allowed herself to twist the knife.

It was a mess of lips, teeth, and tears. Needy hands roamed the hills and valleys of the bodies they each knew so well. They tumbled backwards towards his room, never taking their hands off each other. Any moment without physical contact was a moment wasted. Garments slipped to the floor, gently discarded with almost a reverence.

He was always so gentle with her, but tonight he’d treat her like glass. Feather light kisses brushed her sternum as he laid her down, cherishing each gasp and moan. He worshiped her with his mouth, slowly whispering sweet nothings in her ear as he took his time. Slow love always seemed more meaningful, like a chance to showcase their affections and prove their love to each other.

She pressed hot wet kisses to his jaw and whispered his name like a prayer. Her nails scraped over his skin, pulling his body, his essence, his soul closer to hers. She gazed in his eyes, silently hoping he knew how much he was worth to her. She pressed her face into his neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and cologne, nipping at the soft supple skin.

They kissed away the memories, breathed away the pain. Their plans faded into the moonlight on the floor. The hopes and dreams that they’d wished to see each other fulfill, tucked away to a chest of regrets that they could visit on sleepless nights. Each gasp drawn from the other celebrated what had been. Each cry was a token of gratitude to the universe for allowing them to love and be loved.

Strings of praise, pleas, and panting floated into the air as they reached their highs, soaring in the clouds of ecstasy with each other’s names on their lips like a mantra. Time froze as they relished the moment, taking their time to sink back down to earth with slow sensual kisses and forgotten whispers, collapsing into a mess of tangled limbs and twisted sheets.

Back to reality. Bitter reality.

Muscle memory took over and she wrapped herself in his arms, pulling his warm chest to her back. She couldn’t bear to look at him now. The guilt swallowed her whole, drowning her slowly. She couldn’t imagine the pain she’d experience if she looked him in the eyes.

They laid there for a moment, each knowing what came next. Each dreading it and hoping something would change so it wouldn’t happen. She’d barely even shifted under his sheets when his hands tightened on her ever so slightly. She winced when she dared a glance over her shoulder. Puffy, bloodshot, cried-out eyes met hers. Why was she so cruel to someone so good?

“Please?” he whimpered, his hair falling into his face. They both had another sob creeping up their throats. This was the end. Their time had run out, and neither of them wanted to leave the sanctity of this moment. His voice sounded again, small like a child.

“P-p-please, can I h-hold you just a little longer?” Tears spilled over his cheeks, his shaky hands pulling her even closer to his chest as he buried his face into the back of her shoulder. Guilt racked her body. This was her doing. She was responsible for making her angel cry like this. Heat flooded her face as she swiped a tear away, biting back a sob of her own.

“Of course, angel.”

****

He woke up to a cold and empty bed only a few hours later. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, glancing around the room as he set his feet on the cool floor. Moonbeams peaked through the blinds, illuminating the room in a soft blue. His clothes had been picked up from the floor and neatly folded on the desk. A soft glint in the corner of his eye tore his gaze from the room to his bedside table. A small, sad smile crept to his mouth, barely turning up a corner of his mouth. The glass of water shouldn’t have made his heart clench, but it did. She’d always made sure to take care of him. He tentatively reached forward, but gulped the cool water down quickly, welcoming the soothing sensation to his dry throat.

As he set the now empty glass back, his hand found the nape of his neck, rubbing the skin and tugging on his hair. Her scent still lingered on his sheets, his skin, gripping his heart in a vice, haunting him. It all cemented the reality: he was alone now.

A gentle breeze oozed through the open window, fluttering the translucent curtains in slow waves. The airflow was nice--it almost helped break his trance of the same thought echoing in his mind on repeat.

She’s gone.

As much as he wanted to sit up and replay the night’s events in his head over and over, exhaustion settled into his heavy limbs and nearly pulled him under right there. The bed seemed to welcome him into its warm embrace.

He could think about it and grieve tomorrow--yes, he could properly come to terms with it all in the morning. Tonight, he could drift into a wonderful reality where everything was alright. Perhaps, it was silly, wrong even, to try to delay reality with dreams of soft touches and warm kisses, but he didn’t care. He’d done it all night, so what was a couple more hours?

He wouldn’t even notice the scrap of paper on the table until the next morning. It wasn’t much, a few words scrawled in her delicate handwriting on the back of a newspaper ad for laundry detergent is all:

Love you always. Goodbye, angel.

Strangely enough, the five little words provided some kind of comfort as he picked up the shattered remains of his heart. It couldn’t undo the damage or magically make his heartache go away, but it wasn’t supposed to. All the note could do was make the transition a little less… painful. It became a little piece of her to carry with him as he tried to move on, a reminder of what they’d had and how good it had been. He didn’t need a monologue of reasons for why she left, he didn’t want one because this note said something far more important than all of that: she loved him.

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Let me know how you hated it! I want to improve so literally ANY feedback is welcome (especially the mean stuff lol)

Love y’all lots! xoxo

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blackdragoness · 1 year

Text

🔫ROASTING YO ASS🔫

After all of that gas I just gave y'all in the last post, it only seems fair to follow it up with a post that straight roasts yo ass on fiyah 🤷🏾‍♀️😂😂 don't take this shit personal, alright. Entertainment purposes only lol

For this PICK A PILE ROAST, you pick a pile and I'll tell you what your hood name would be if you lived in the hood. This message comes with alot of shade. Stay ready cuz ain't nobody safe. Auuurighhht, Lessssgo 🔊

1 2 3 4

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Pile 1:

For those who chose pile 1, if you lived in the hood, your hood name would be:

"TMI"

TMI for "Too Much Information" because yo ass never stops talking. Sometimes we be wanting to cut you off mid sentence and be like, "okay but when did we ask?!" Too Much Information because you got one of them ratchet gossip girl mouths. The mouth that everybody hates but also the reason you are feared 😂 You're one of them bitches we refer to when we say, "This bitch knows too much!", Cuz bitch you do. How you be knowing all this shit, huh? You know the ins and outs of everything and got the updates of the latest gossip and scandals. It's a good thing and a bad thing. Depends which hood you rolling around in and which hoodlums you're linking up with. Watch yo back TMI. The streets ain't safe 😂

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Pile 2:

For those who chose pile 2, if you lived in the hood, your hood name would be:

"Beluga"

I apologize if I'm the first person you have to hear this from but your hood name would be Beluga because right off the bat, you got a big ass forehead. Just period point blank. Don't try to deny it. It's blatant. We can all see it. Just embrace it because that's what they would call you in the hood, dead ass. Also because you're kind of a smart ass. Beluga whales are actually super intelligent and can sense things before they happen. That's similar to you. I'll give it to ya, you got good instincts but that doesn't change the fact that your forehead is humongous. If you're bald, your forehead looks even bigger. It giving Mega Mind. If you have a lot of hair, your forehead makes your hair look detached from your head. 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️

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Pile 3:

For those who chose pile 3, if you lived in the hood your hood name would be:

"The Tasmanian Devil"

Because you are built like the Tasmanian Devil from Looney Tunes. Insert picture for exemplary effect:

🧐you see that right there, that's your body type pile 3. I'm not gonna lie, you look like a walking face with arms, bro. But no shame. God didn't make a mistake when he created you. I just think he was short on time. He forgot to include your chin and neck. Its like right after your bottom lip it's your stomach already, it makes no sense. But sometimes God doesn't give us all the answers and we have to be okay with that. So, that's why you would be the Tasmanian Devil.

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Pile 4:

For those who chose pile 4, if you lived in the hood, your hood name would be:

"Lucy"

Named after the Lucy from 50 First Dates because your ass is ditzy AF. You're that girl that says she can't find her glasses, then proceeds to wear her glasses to find her glasses. You're that kid in class that asks the same question someone else just asked. Not gonna lie, some people have honestly written you off as like autistic or mentally unstable and I honestly don't blame them. The way you are is just so believable that something isn't all the way stable in your brain. All is well Lucy, just keep doing you. We understand that you're a little S L O W.

#pick a pile #pick a card reading #pac reading #tarot community #intuitive readings #astro community #art #astro notes #astrology #zodiac #pick a number #pick a crystal #pick a picture #pick a card

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kedreeva · 1 year

Note

Prompt: Fruity Four, last sparks of the fire

(my inbox is open for ST prompts!)(Previous prompts)

Robin watches the last log in the fire collapse in a little shower of orange sparks, smoke flaring up into the air in artful tendrils. It's been a long time since she felt comfortable being this close to a fire, but Eddie hadn't been at the mall, and he'd invited them over, and they weren't about to avoid him when he'd already picked up supplies for s'mores.

And it's... it's nice. It's quiet, controlled. Steve had set out two pails of water nearby, and after Robin explained to Eddie, he'd kept the fire small. Enough to spit some warmth into the cooling September air, but not enough to cause any raging flames, even at the peak. Normal.

"I think it's ready," Eddie says muzzily, from where he's falling asleep against the side of a large log, head resting on Steve's knee.

No one moves for a minute, and then Steve gently rakes his fingers through Eddie's hair in a bid to get him to look up. "If you let me up, I'll get the stuff."

Eddie considers this, clearly not wanting to give up his place dozing between Steve's legs. "'n toast me one?"

"Toast you as many as you want," Steve agrees warmly. He glances up to Nancy and Robin in their camp chairs. "In fact, I'll toast marshmallows for everyone. But you gotta let me get up first."

Eddie heaves a put-upon sigh, but he shifts so he isn't leaning so fully on Steve, giving him room to clamber up and fetch the s'mores supplies from the front porch. He takes a minute to set up the graham crackers, breaking little blocks of Hersey's chocolate off the bigger bar and arranging them. He'd brought his own roasting sticks after Eddie told him I'll just find a stick or something. Steve has seen the sticks around here, and does not want them in his food. Someone has to have standards around here.

He shoves marshmallows onto the ends of two of the sticks, and heads back over to the fire. Robin stretches her hands up and makes grabby motions for one of the sticks, and Steve passes it over without a fuss. She's almost certainly going to shove it as close to the coals as she can, set it on fire, and eat it right off the stick like she'd done at his house with his lighter. Eddie would have done the same, Steve's sure, but he wants to give him one perfectly golden-brown, gooey marshmallow to try.

Robin, true to form, sets hers alight almost immediately. She holds it aloft and cackles at it while Steve crouches and patiently turns and twists his stick, letting the heat brown the marshmallow until there is a golden shell around it. Right at the end, he sticks it a little closer to the flame and lets the end begin to bubble before he pulls it out and hurries it over to the graham crackers.

He smushes them off and into the crackers and then quickly loads the stick with another pair. He manages to balance the stick and two s'mores as he walks back toward Eddie, who takes his with a broad smile. Nancy takes the other with a polite thank you and a very skeptical look thrown Robin's way. Robin trades sticks with him, and Steve burns the leftover marshmallow off her stick before going to get his own.

In all, they make too many and just enough, fingers and mouths sticky with melting sugar and sweet chocolate. Eddie kisses Steve soundly in thanks, something Robin makes a good-natured retching noise to and Nancy watches in quiet contemplation. Neither of the boys notice.

When the area has been cleaned and the supplies packed away and the goodbyes lingered over long enough, Nancy douses the coals with the first bucket, and Robin with the second. Nancy offers to drive Robin home for Steve, so he can stay, and Steve thinks maybe that's not the only reason, but he doesn't call her on it. She's smart. She'll figure it out.

They watch until the girls have disappeared down the street, and then Steve checks the fire one more time for any last sparks before he slings an arm over Eddie's shoulder and they head inside together.

#stranger things #fruity four #steddie #ronance #my writing #stranger things fic #askbox prompts #asks #anon asks

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venusstarz34 · 2 months

Text

Sebastian Sallow: Dangerously Yours episode 1-Masquerade

!I DO NOT OWN THE SCRIPT OR THE CHARACTERS! Just a heads up, I’m still finishing the game, so if it is not greatly accurate, I apologize. This is just for fun

“And so, my dear girl,” The man sitting across from the young girl said. “you have our reasons for choosing you for this mission. You are very young, you are clever, and you are very beautiful.” Her face remained serious, despite the compliments he was handing out to her. “Because of your youth, you should be exceptionally valuable to us.” “I am at your command, headmaster.” She nodded in agreement to him. His face hardened for a moment before relaxing again, as if he caught himself from snapping. “From now on you will forget my title. In all of our communications, you will address me as Mr. Black.” She nodded again, making a mental note of this in her head. “Now let us get onto things. I hope the troubled will not be too difficult for you,” His emphasis on troubled did not go unnoticed by her. “He is a sure man. And when you have obtained our information, you will conceal the message in this silver envelope and send an owl to us immediately. Trust no one. We rely on your discretion.” He handed her the gleaming silver envelope and she pocketed it. “I understand.” She says. “These papers will tell you everything you need to know about Sallow. Even how you will be meeting him tonight.” She took the papers from his hand.

”Good evening miss!” The bellboy had called to her while taking her bags. The sound of the train hushing down the tracks. “Have my bags sent to suite 913” She said. “Yes ma’am” She gave the boy a smile as he headed off. The young woman searched the room for her target, the gold coins clinking in her pocket as she walked. When she spotted him, she quickly composed herself and made her way over. The man was talking to someone, stopping his sentence when he spotted her. “Is everything alright miss?” He asked. She threw the coins onto the table in anger. “Take your money back, Luigi. I don’t want it anymore. I’m through!” She storms off, her face calm, which is a difference from only a moment ago. The man is calling after her, trying to keep up with her fast strides. “Is something wrong, sir?” One of the bellboys asked. “Yes, did you see the lady who had stopped at my table?” The bellboy nodded. “She mistakenly gave me money thinking it was mine. Do you know who she is?” The bellboy nodded again. “Ms. L/n. Her suite is 913.”

There was a know on Y/n’s door. “Just a moment!” She called. She made her way to the door and opened it, seeing the man she had yelled at earlier. “Miss, I’m afraid you made a mistake. My name is not Luigi, and these are not my coins.” He said. The woman smiled. “Yes I know. Won’t you come in, Mr. Sallow?” Sebastian seemed taken aback. “You- You know who I am?” She gave a laugh. “Of course I do! You were the most handsome man im the dining area. And I was very lonely, so I thought ‘tonight, I will have an adventure! I will make the acquaintance of the distinguished Sebastian Sallow” Sebastian was as confused as he was amazed. “How do you know my name?” He asked. “It was not difficult to find out” She said like it was quite obvious. “How do you know I wouldn’t run off with your coins?” Sebastian seemed suspicious. “I took that chance. Besides, they’re insured.” She lets out a laugh. “Are you angry?” Sebastian also laughs at her question. “No, I am not angry. If some kind fate wishes to send a beautiful lady to dine with me, I can only be grateful.” He pauses for a moment. “You will do me the honor, won’t you, Madam?” She nods her head at him and smiles. “I should be delighted.”

“What would you like for dinner?” Sebastian asked her one evening. “What does a great wizard eat? Hippogriff leg and kneazel tail and- What do you usually eat?” She looked at him with humor in her eyes. “What does a great witch usually eat?” “Almost anything” “Well, uhm. Then.. how about roast beef?” He asked and they both laughed. “Alright” She responded.

On one evening, they had decided to go to a fair. A man yelled around for people to watch Y/n shoot a clay pigeon. “I will never be able to hit a thing!” She worries. “Don’t let me down before all these people!” He whispers in her ear and her breath hitches, her face flushes and she feels a rush of adrenaline. “I’ll try.” She shoots the pigeon and misses entirely. “Good heavens!” She cries. “And the little lady down a dancing dog” The fair man joked, making the crowd laugh.

They strayed away from the fair, and off to a field to watch the stars. “Look Y/n! A shooting star! Did you wish?” Sebastian points to the sky. Y/n looks over quickly but was too late. “Oh, I didn’t have time.” She said disappointed. “And there is something you’d wish for?” “Yes” “What did you wish?” He asked her. She was hesitant and she looked up at the stars. “I was wishing that- that we were two other people. Two people who need not say goodbye.” Y/n’s eyes stayed on the stars, while Sebastian’s were fixated on her. “Perhaps it can be that way.”

Back in Sebastians room, he talked with his long time friend and partner. “Forgive me, Sebastian, but I’m not easy on my mind about this business. I wish you wouldn’t go see that woman tonight.” Ominis said as Sebastian put on his coat. “How could I stay away? Ominis, for the first time in my life, I am completely head over heels in love.” “But, Sebastian-“ Ominis tried to stop him. “I know what you’re thinking, I have a mission to perform and I have no right to fall in love. But, things don’t always work out the way we’d like them to have work out, do they, Ominis?” Ominis looked distressed and worried for his best friend. “Oh, I don’t know what to come up of all this.” “Oh Ominis, neither do I, neither do I! But perhaps we shall find out tonight.” And with that, Sebastian has left his room in a hurry.

“Y/n, I have a message from you from Mr. Black.” Her maid came in to her room. “What is it?” She wondered the meaning of the message and hoped it wasn’t too serious. “He says you must obtain our information immediately. You have taken too long. You are to get it tonight.” “Tonight?!” Y/n stood up in a distress. “Mr. Black has been very lenient with you, because this is your first mission. But he will not be lenient any longer. It is not wise to anger Mr. Black. He is a dangerous enemy to have. Forgive me, Y/n, I was sent to serve you as a maid, not to give you advice.” Y/n took a deep breath in and decided what she needed to do. “You’re right. Don't worry. the mission will be completed tonight." "You have a silver envelope?" The maid asked and Y/n nodded. "Then I will wait for you at the appointed place.” She started to leave before stopping. “Do not fail us. The mission will be completed tonight.” The maid left the room, closing the door behind her, and leaving Y/n with her worries. How is she supposed to kill the man she loved?

“Y/n, I offer you three things most dear to me: my heart, my country, and my dream.” Sebastian said as they sat together in his room. “You are too generous!” Y/n replied. She tried to keep up the act for as long as possible, but she wasn’t sure if it even was an act anymore. Sebastian quickly turned to look at her. “Y/n you must listen to me. Since that first hour we met I’ve been completely yours! There’s never been anyone else for me and there never will.” Her face filled with panic hearing his words and knowing what she had to do. “Oh, please please don’t say anymore. There are worlds between us, worlds that can’t be bridged with words.” He stood up and grabbed her hands in his. “You said one night that you wish we were two different people. I think you may have that wish, Y/n.” “But, what do you mean?” He pulled her to her feet, their hands still held together. “Only that I am close to my victory and my followers may not need so much of my service any longer.” Her eyes were wide and she could barely get her words out. “Close to victory?” “I am going to tell you something tonight, Y/n. Something that will put my life in your hands.”

“Your.. life?” She didn’t want to hear what he was saying. He was close to victory? She had to hurry with this mission, but she couldn’t find it in herself to do it. “It would mean my life will be used to get to certain circles, yes.” “Then don’t tell me. How do you know that you can trust me?” He really shouldn’t. After everything they’ve been through, every walk, every fair, every dinner, it was an act. She was here to kill him. But her act was faltering. “I love you, and I believe you love me.” She was silent for a minute before taking her hands away. “You’re quite wrong. This has been only an adventure to me.” She hoped her words would hurt him more than they hurt her. “That isn’t true, Y/n.” “It is true! You smiled at me, I was flattered. It was an adventure for a holiday mood.” She hoped and prayed her words were like venom to him to make this process all the more easier.

“You may as well take my heart, Y/n. It’s already so full of you. You walked into it the day we met.” He was basically on his knees now, his hands on his chest over his heart. She looked down at him with forced disgust. “You’re a fool, Sebastien, best of all.” “Isn’t any man who falls in love? Do you know what you are to me? You’re something to believe in again. You’re a type of person that had ceased to exist for me. A fine and honest woman.” She mentally cringed at the word honest, a twinge of guilt throwing itself on the already growing pile. His hands were now on her thighs, fingering the lace of her skirt. His touches were gentle as he begged. She had to force herself to step away from him. “Oh darling, you are such a child! Take your foolish little dream and your heart and go!” Her eyes brimmed with tears as she pleaded. “Please go!” “What is it, what’s wrong, my dear?” He stood back up to be eye level with her.

“You know nothing about me. You’ve known me only three weeks!” She spoke through her tears. “Three weeks? Y/n, I have known you all my life!” “All your life!” She scoffed. “It’s true. Why, I’ve seen you in a thousand plays, read you in as many books. When I’ve listened to beautiful music I’ve thought, ‘she’d like this.’ I’ve looked at flowers and known that one day I’d give them to you.” He took her tear stand face between his hands, but she pushed him away. “Oh stop, stop! You must listen to me, I’m not that woman! Perhaps I was once, but I’m not now. You see, you were wrong. You can’t trust me.” She turned away from him, not bearing to be able to look him in the eyes any longer. “Are you trying to tell me that someone whose name we both know and won’t mention sent you?”

She turned around, dumbfounded at his words. “What are you saying?” “You see, I’ve known all along. I had Ominis look you up the day you arrived.” Her jaw was slightly dropped and her eyes wide. “And- and it didn’t make any difference?” Sebastian walked over towards her, pulling her in. He cupped her cheek and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. He pulled away and looked her deep in her eyes. “It didn’t make any difference. You see, I trust you. You came here to betray me. That is your mission, Y/n L/n. And yet, I am so sure of my love that I will trust you with my life and what is more valuable-the lives of my people.”

“I will betray you.” She says not breaking eye contact. “If you do, you will betray yourself at the same time.” She nods. “Yes. “Yes I know.” “So, you shall know my secret. Even now as we sit here, there is a great network growing tighter around the Wizard nations around the world. Treaties, pacts, alliances being formed against the man who sent you. Tonight I will sign a pact that will set the wheels in motion to destroy him.” “Destroy him?! No!” She tried to step away from him again but he held her close. “He’s made many mistakes. The greatest of all was sending you here, Y/n.” “Why?” “He knew I should love you, but he didn’t guess that you would fall in love with me.”

“No… he didn’t guess that.” “Then you see that you must betray him.” His hand was still on her cheek, drawing small circles with his thumb. “If I betray you, I betray myself. If I betray him, I betray my school. My school is very dear to me.” “Dearer than I?” “No..” She felt like she was melting with his words. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t betray Sebastian and kill the only one she has ever loved like this. “Oh no, not dearer than you.” “Then, will you help me defeat him?” “Help you? Defeat him?” He nodded. “By telling me his plans. That’s the only way I can defeat him. We can’t both win, you see, Y/n?”

“I’m beginning to see.” She’s losing herself to his words, his touch, his face, his lips. She’s losing herself to him. “Then you will help me.” “By giving you any information I may possess concerning our plans?” “Yes.” She’s silent before pushing herself away from him again. “You’re very clever, aren’t you? Oh, I can read you like a book now. You thought I was young and easily swayed.” She pointed a finger at his chest. “That you could make me love you and that I would throw away my school, my duty for you?!”

“That’s not the way to look at it, Y/n.” He put his hand on her arm but she snatched it away. “You weren’t so wise after all, because you’ve lost, you hear me?! Lost! You’ve guessed wrong in our little duel of wits. You forgot how close hate is to love.” “You don’t know what you’re saying, Y/n!” She pulls out her wand and points it to him. “I know exactly what I’m saying! You never loved me!You knew that I loved you and you used that!”

“Y/n stop talking like a child, we’re playing for power now!” Her voice had become eerily calm as she now spoke with a bit of force and fury. “Yes, we are, aren’t we? This is a wand in my hand, Sebastian. I’d advise you to be careful what you say.” His face immediately turned to one of amusement. “Well, rather melodramatic, aren’t you? Tell me, will I be the second flick of your wand ir the third?” He chuckles. “Mind if I stretch?” “Stretch?” She was confused by his amusement of the situation. Like, for Godric’s sake she had a wand in her hand and he didn’t. “I always stretch before a duel.”

“You can do anything you please, Sebastian. But you have very little time to do it in.” Her wand is still pointed at his chest, the same smirk on his face. His eye brows raise a bit at her words. “You mean you’re actually going to kill me?” “I mean just that.” Her words were firm on the outside, but she was still debating her decisions. “Well, go ahead.” “I’ll do this my own way. Look, you already know my purpose in being here. Now you will either give me my information or I will kill you. You have till nine o’clock.” The clock on the wall read 8:57.

“You won’t do it. You can’t pull the trigger. You can’t pull it because you love me. It takes a very brave and a very cold woman to do that, Y/n, and I don’t think you can. Isn’t that true? Isn’t that why you’re waiting?” “That’s not true.”

“Or is it that you want to watch your victim? You want my heart to constrict with agony, my hands to shake. You want me to plea for my life so you can make a generous gesture and spare me. Sorry, Y/n, I don’t seem to be much in the mood for prayers tonight.” With a shrug of his shoulders and a tilt of his head he spoke. Sebastian knew her. He knew so much about her in only a matter of days it shocked her.

“You don’t think I’ll do it. That’s why you’re so brave-you don’t think I’ll do it. You wouldn’t be so brave otherwise. You’re a coward at heart! You lied to me, you deceived me!” “You tried to deceive me.” Her grip on her wand tightened. “I’m tired of listening to you.” She spoke.

“You gave me your heart, you know. You’d like me to hand it back, whole again. But I won’t. You’ll live a long time yet, Y/n, and eternity without me. You will look into the faces of passersby, hoping for something that will, for an instant, bring me back to you. You will find moonlit nights strangely empty because, when you call my name through them, there will be no answer. Always your heart will be aching for me and your mind will give you the doubtful consolation that you did a ‘brave thing.’”

Tears began to pour down her face once more as she looked at him angrily. “You dare talk about bravery?” “What else do we have to talk about, Y/n? For me, there will never be another woman but you. For my heart there is another love that must come before you, my followers. You’re so still. Your face is like ice. What are you thinking about, Y/n?” She hadn’t moved in a minute. Her tears were drying and the time now read 8:59.

Her voice is quiet. “What does anything you can say matter? You betrayed me with words. What good are words when your heart is breaking? If I fail now, I shall deserve to die. You tricked me into loving you.” “Aren’t you forgetting that you came here for the same purpose?”

“I couldn’t betray you. I tried to tell you. You said you already knew. I was as honest as I knew how to be.” Sebastians voice began to raise as he spoke. “Do you think I wanted to love you? Knowing where you came from and what your mission was? Don’t you suppose that every hour we were together Iw as thinking ‘she’s just pretending’?” “I wasn’t! I loved you!” Y/n screamed.

“And I loved you so much I let you pretend! Because you brought something to my days I couldn’t stand the thought of losing. Listen to your heart, Y/n. Feel it pounding.” She took a deep breath as the clock on the wall struck nine. “Your time is up.” She says coldly. “And my last words-I love you Y/n” “You determine to die with a lie on your lips?! Avada kedavra!” She screamed as she shot the spell towards him. “I- love you Y/n.” He groaned as his body hit the floor. “Oh Godric!” Her voice was shakey. She ran out of the room and down the hall.

“Ominis. Ominis.” Sebastian weekly called from in the room. Ominis cane running in. “Sebastian, I heard the spell.” “Help me up, I will be alright.” He grunted in pain as Ominis helped him up. “Oh, I knew you shouldn’t have come here. I’ll get a doctor.” Ominis tried to rush out the door before Sebastian stopped him. “No! No no it’s too late.”

“I waited by the door like you told me too. I watched her run down the stairs. Please, let me get a doctor.” “No, Ominis. I want you to send a message at once. The usual destination.” Ominis nodded. “‘Black, the masquerade is over. Ex. 32 reports that Y/n L/n is trustworthy and loyal. You may intrust in her care any documents. She will not betray you. Report case 255 closed. Ex. 32.’ Conceal it as usual, Ominis, in a silver envelope.” “Please let me call her back. You must tell her the truth before it’s too late.” Ominis begged.

“Tell her the truth? Tell her the truth so that she will watch the stars through tears instead of following the one cold star that is her destiny? No, no, Ominis. Let her think I never loved her. One day she will follow a flag to the same fate as mine. We must leave her the strength for that hour.”

THE END

#fanfic #hogwarts legacy #reader insert #dangerously yours #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #sebastian sallow x reader #oneshot

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