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fuckmyskywalker · 4 months

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❄️𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟓𝐭𝐡 : 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 - 𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫.

— CW: 18+, smut. Cheating. PiV. Both Padme and Anakin cheat. | Word count: 2.0k (not proofread!)

— a/n: Consider this a late Christmas gift because it's 2k <3. I normally don't like my fics but I can say I am proud of this one. Inspired by an unreleased song by Jules Paymer. Follow them ;).

— Anyafest 2023 + Taglist!

Anakin stares at you from the other side of the large room, admiring how you carry yourself with such grace and confidence. His hand tightens around the glass of whatever the fuck he is drinking, he can’t really give a damn about it now. All he can think of is how much he wishes he could yank your hair and beat you up. Drag you to the center of the room and expose you, scream to the world how you ruined the best thing he would ever have.

It’s time. He knows he has to be quick before you get away before he can get his stupid revenge. As he strides towards you, he can hear Padmé’s apologies ringing in his ear, bouncing inside his brain and making his blood boil.

“I am so sorry, it was a mistake! I promise I didn't mean to.”

“It was an accident, Anakin. I was drunk— she means nothing to me!”

“Please forgive me. I just couldn't lie to you anymore. It was killing me.”

Sure, maybe fucking the woman your wife cheated on you with isn't the best approach, but that's the only thing he can think of right now. Thankfully Padmé skipped today’s event, probably at home lamenting herself and planning a very sappy and emotional apology, buying him gifts, and preparing a new set of tears to ask for forgiveness. Anakin knows he will forgive her in the end, besides her he doesn't have anyone else. How is he going to give up the only good thing in his life?

He is pathetic to even consider forgiving an infidelity, but what else can he do? It isn't often that his mind strings a coherent thought, and tonight exception.will not be the exception. It would be easier to give you the benefit of the doubt; to be fair, you weren’t aware of his marriage, and if Padmé was as drunk as she claimed then— no. He cannot give her the benefit of the doubt. You are quick to acknowledge his presence and Anakin doesn’t miss the way you eye him up and down, completely oblivious to the way his eyes are beheading you. He isn’t nice when he presents himself, in fact, he is quite harsh with replying to your questions.

Your obvious interest makes him sick, so you think that with that pretty face and expensive gowns you can just get away with everything you want? Disgusting.

“I thought Jedis weren’t fond of these sorts of events,” You speak in a sultry tone. Anakin can bet you think you are being so smooth and seductive— batting those long eyelashes at him.

“Well, it’s nice to cool off from the stress every now and then.” Anakin gruffly replies, taking a sip of his drink trying to sound as charming as possible which on a normal day wouldn’t be hard, but Maker, his shoulders are so tense they hurt and his stomach is twisting with anger.

“Glad you can find a reliever,” You wink, and he can read what you imply— another type of reliever is thrown on the plate, it is up to him to bite it or spit on it. “You do look tense… General.” The way his title rolls down your tongue makes him sick. So you know who he is, did Padmé say something? Did she mention him at all? Did she even think about him as he was breaking his trust?

“Long day.”

The initial conversation is polite, he has to give you that. You don’t go straight to the point which he is thankful for, if you had tried any insinuation Anakin wouldn’t have been able to hold the impulse to crash his glass against your head. His internal struggle becomes hard; when he finds himself smirking at a snarky comment you make of another guest on the other side of the room, or when he sees you smiling at a very fake compliment he gave you… he feels nauseous— to not say ashamed— he can see right through you but you cannot see his real intentions.

“I can’t imagine living on the edge all day,” You sigh, tapping your long, manicured nails on the oddly-shaped drink. “Must be quite challenging.

Anakin suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. “You get used to it,” Is he being too harsh? Too scattering? How are you supposed to treat the person you now hate the most?

You offer him another drink which he reluctantly accepts, is this your preferred method? To force people to drink and then take advantage of them? Or is his vision of reality so distorted he isn’t able to pick up that you are the one tipsy? If any he would be the one taking advantage of you.

Anakin watches you drink without restraints, staining the edge of the glass with your dark lipstick. Is that the same color that tempted his wife? Or did you choose another shade that night? His sudden jealousy is clouding his judgment, not that he has much but still.

After your third drink— although Anakin is sure you had a couple more before he decided it was time to talk to you— your tongue begins to lose. Your questions get bolder as well as your touch. Your hand lays on his arm when you laugh, your body slowly making its way dangerously close to his. Despite the sick feeling that rises up his stomach, threatening to regurgitate the lousy dinner he managed to eat, Anakin forces himself to place his gloved hand on your lower back with an unauthentic smile. He needs to play along because that’s what he wants right? To get revenge.

It’s not hard to find an empty room in this ridiculously enormous building. Too many unused rooms that on a normal day would throw him into a useless rant about how poorly managed the Senate budget is, but then again— this isn’t a normal day for Anakin. What is extremely challenging is to continue with his plan; you let him do his move which makes him drown in self-doubt and loathing again. Was his wife the one who made the first move? Did she kiss you the way he was kissing you now?

The dark red lipstick smears all over his lips, and Anakin swears he can taste bile on his tongue. It’s stupid. What did he even think this was a good idea to start with? He is fucking stupid. Bringing your body closer to his, Anakin parts his lips to deepen the kiss, shivering when your tongue comes in contact with his. Pushing you further against the wall, you mistake his intentions— he looks like he wants to merge his body with yours, and the misunderstanding fuels your desire. He is handsome, terribly so, so where’s the harm in having a little fun? His kisses are heated, rushed, he wants to be done with this as soon as possible. He wants to— what the fuck does he even wants to? Is this the moment of clarity? Maybe.

Suddenly your lips don’t feel that bad. The taste turns sweet and it catches him by surprise, if this was what Padmé felt then maybe… Can he even blame her?

A kiss. No. Multiple. Contact after contact with Anakin's mind fogs. Your sounds are just as sweet as your lips, asking him for more, praising him, practically dragging him to the same mess he was never meant to get involved with. Clothes soon become a bother, but the situation isn’t ideal— nothing is. Your hands shouldn’t feel as good as they do— but fuck they do. Anakin gets greedy fast, a characteristic he probably will never be able to get rid of. A familiar burn builds up in his body, the only thing that wasn’t supposed to happen.

It’s laughable. It really is.

“Please don’t stop,” You whisper against his lips in a way that makes his blood boil, bright erythrocytes then pump his cock until it strains against his black robes, you feel it, of course, you do. “Oh— Anakin.”

Sweet. His name sounds so charming when you say it with his hand in between your legs. He wants more. Why? He’s not sure. Nothing seems real right now and for an instant he forgets he is about to have sex with the woman who unbeknownst to her ruined his marriage. Your skirts are heavy, but the layers of fabric don’t seem to be a problem. He finds you dripping, easily sinking two fingers inside you, watching with half-lidded eyes how you arch your back. No longer sweet but sinful. Anakin pants, feeling pathetic for finding the slightest hint of enjoyment in what was intended to be revenge.

“I can’t do this,” He mutters, withdrawing his hand. He can watch his fingers glisten under the dim light of the room. “I… I can’t.”

“Yes, yes you can,” Your voice is like a lullaby, broken and barely frustrated by the irruption. “Anakin, I need you.” Do you? Because he doesn’t know what he needs. The lines blur too fast for his mind to catch up and the next thing he registers is his trembling hand fumbling with his pants. “Please, Ani. Fuck me.” That damn nickname. The one that was reserved for the woman he loves, but if she had to share her with you for a night, it is only fair that Padmé shares that pet name with you too.

This wasn’t supposed to be something pleasurable, now Anakin can see clearly how Padmé couldn’t say no. When he fully slides his throbbing cock inside your tight heat he crumbles. Now he has gotten his own taste.

His thrusts are fast and eager, bringing one leg around his hips as his palm rests against the wall. You cling to his body desperately, moaning freely now— each sound pushing him closer to the edge he wasn’t meant to cross in the first place. A bead of sweat rolls down his brow, his tongue swirls with your sensually. No other touch had felt this addictive, plus the taboo of the secret he is holding, the one he will have to drag to the grave now. Anakin groans, biting your lower lip and tugging it with his teeth. Your pussy envelops his cock like a glove, tight and warm, so good and so bad at the same time.

“Maker— you feel so good,” You moan directly in his ear, furrowing your brows and rolling your eyes in delight. His cock feels amazing, stretching you in forms no other man has done. Is this the type of man the Jedi Council is keeping away from you? “I’m going to come, Ani. Fuck— harder, please.” You beg. That’s all you do. More. More. More. You are insatiable.

He is too far in— both literally and figuratively— to even deny you, which would mean he denies himself. He is close too, he can tell by the familiar clench under his lower stomach, how his balls tighten and slap against your sweaty body. He shouldn’t come inside, then he would be the same as his wife— or even worse.

The brief clarity the Force itself blessed him with suddenly disappears when you come undone around him. It’s like a wave crashing on top of him, drowning him in a feeling he knows will never be experienced again. You look like an angel, a miserable comparison given the situation. You climax with a strained moan, mouth hanging open and cursing to the Gods he will never believe in— and he is following you just seconds after.

Everything is ruined. Your makeup, your underwear, his dignity. Like a bitter reminder, the same apologies Padmé gave him over and over spun around his head with the same strength as his orgasm. Anakin rests his forehead against your naked shoulder, saliva trickling down the corner of his mouth as he struggles to catch his breath. He is fucked. He is so done. He is ruined.

He understands why Padmé cheated on him.

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes!#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anyafest 2023!#anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin skwalker #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin x reader smut #anakin smut #anakin x you #anakin x reader #anakin x y/n

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unabashegirl · 1 month

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MASTERLIST

ONE SHOTS

Kings of Leon

Wear something noticeable || Part 2

Equatorial Sun

What are you doing up?

My head is spinning over you

Pax Romana

Harry's grammy performance

You lied to me

Chocolate cake

Golden Boy

Nameless

Meeting her || Part 2 || Part 3

INSTAGRAM BLURBS

Dating hints

Pregnancy

Sadie Sink

Elsa Hosk

Lori Harvey

Pudderfly

Deepika Padukon

Dakota Johnson

Matilda Djerf

Gracie Abrams

Bella Hadid

SERIES

if you want to get ahead and get access to all chapter then check out my patreon!

Summary: Harry is a young billionaire and CEO of his own company. He mostly keeps to himself, he is stern and very meticulous when it comes to business. He also likes to keep his personal life very private for the sake of his newly born son Oliver Styles. It isn't until he meets Y/N Y/L/N that everything changes. She becomes his new nanny after his previous one quits due to personal reasons. She is young, caring, and sweet. Will they ignore their feelings? Will Harry's girlfriend accept their love and leave them? Will she be able to cope with his busy agenda? What about Oliver's mother? Where is she? Who is she?

masterlist

Summary: Harry Styles, the cold and calculating son of a powerful mafia don, must consolidate power after his father's passing. He faces challenges from his unpredictable younger brother, Silas, and navigates a complex world of alliances, ruthless decisions, and family loyalty. Amidst the intrigue, the elegant and alluring Y/N Castellano, the daughter of an Italian mafia boss, attends the funeral and finds herself drawn to Harry. As power dynamics shift and the future remains uncertain, the story explores the dark and dangerous allure of the mafia, the weight of family legacies, and the potential for unexpected connections in a world defined by secrecy and ruthlessness.

masterlist

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is forced to return to the town where she was born for extraordinary reasons. Her father is extremely sick and on the verge of passing away. Alsfield has changed and is far from what she remembers and even though she lived in town until her high school graduation she barely recognizes it. The town hides a big secret from a few individuals that live in it including Y/N. The man who maintains the town's secret and protects it is no other than Harry Styles. Things take a sudden twist when they meet. Numerous things will impede Y/N from returning to San Francisco to her somewhat ordinary life, will she be able to abandon the town that she had successfully escaped the first time? What is the big secret that the townspeople are hiding, and what is Y/N's role in it? Who is Harry? Where does he come from? Had she met him before? And what does he want from her?

masterlist

Summary: Harry is just like any other college student. He is a senior in Chicago University. He keeps to himself except when he is spending time with his closest friends, Sarah and Mitch. His world revolves around his future career, friends, and family. His quiet and routine driven life takes a turn, one weekend when he meets Y/N Y/L/N. She is way too different from him. She spends most of her days surrounded by people who care for superficial and materialistic things. Her parents are never home, and they think that with money everything can be solved. They are both from different worlds yet something that night clicks and Y/N can never again get him off her mind.

masterlist || EXCLUSIVE FOR PATREON SUBSCRIBERS

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luveline · 9 months

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More zombie au! Steve!!! Please! It’s literally so good I love how you write Steve all protective <3

thank you ♡ steve zombie au —steve gets sick. you meet a dark-haired stranger while looking for meds. fem!reader 2k

You compare your arm to the bottle in your hand. You've written a list of generic and brand name antibiotics in biro on your forearm, but they're smudging from nervous sweat. You're getting desperate.

Nothing seems to match. You're shaking with aching arms and legs, fucking terrified as you sift through a floor of orange and white pill bottles that nothing is going to match your list, and worse, the pharmacy grows darker by the hour. You don't have a torch.

Things are getting pretty bad at camp. There's not enough food to go around, no batteries, and now Steve's…

A bottle slips out of your hand and knocks into another. You cringe and pick up the next. You've been searching for hours without sitting down, as hiding underneath the bottles is a carpeting of grainy glass from the smashed shelves. Three of your fingertips have cut and scabbed since you got here.

"Fuck," you whisper, glaring at another wrong medication. "Fuck, fuck."

Amoxicillin, ciprofloxacin, flucloxacillin. Anything to stop Steve's infection from getting into his blood. It's a gross wound, oozy and inflamed, and when you'd left him with Robin dutiful at his side his skin had glowed with heat like glass held in the centre of a furnace. Even with his eyes closed, he'd known what you were about to do.

"Don't fucking leave," he'd grit out, fingers twitching up for your hand.

You'd leaned forward and kissed his damp forehead. "I have to go. I love you. I'll be right back."

That was ten hours ago at least. You have no idea what condition Steve might be in, so sure you'd find the pills and be back in arm's reach by noon. How sick can he get before it's too much?

"Shit," you whisper, your fingers tingling.

"What are you looking for?"

You fall backward with a sharp gasp, pill bottles biting into your thighs. Your face swings around but the source of the voice is unclear, empty shelves and aisles either side of you.

"Chill out–"

"Where the fuck are you?" you demand, scrambling onto your feet with the use of one sacrificed palm. Glass like needles serrates your skin. "Fuck! Come out, loser!"

"Hey, no need to be mean. I'm up in the ceiling."

You look up. Peeking out from a displaced ceiling tile is a pale face silhouetted by a matt of dark hair.

"You fucking little freak," you say, though you feel bad immediately. He's smiling and he isn't pointing any weapons at you, which is more than most strangers allow on the road. "Why are you up there?"

"I wanted to see if you had a gun, stupid."

"You're stupid, stupid. What if it was in my bag?"

"Point it at me, then!"

You stare at him in silence.

"That's what I thought," he says, framing a face in two hands like a baby angel on a gift card. "Can I come down or are you gonna keep bitchin'?"

"Don't fucking come down here."

"Or what?" he asks.

"I'll get my gun out."

"Mm, okay," he mocks. "I'll come help you find whatever it is that has your panties in a twist."

"I swear to god–"

"Listen. I'm a good guy, I swear."

"That's what bad guys say."

The stranger laughs a weird giggly laugh and climbs backwards. The ceiling tiles stress visibly under his weight but make no noise as he disappears from view. He swears a couple of times on the way down, unseen, before the stockroom door swings open and he appears in his intimidating glory in the doorway.

"If you kill me," you say, eyeing his spiked wristbands and the machete strapped to his waist with horrified apprehension, "my boyfriend will avenge me. Like, hunt you to the ends of the earth and slice you into little tiny pieces of vengeance."

"That sounds like my kind of party, but your boyfriend has nothing to worry about. I got a girl."

"Don't say rock and roll."

"How the fuck would you guess that?" he asks, hand flying to the back of his neck for a bashful scratch.

"My life feels like a shitty gimmicky horror movie, and you look the part." You bite the inside of your cheek. "I need antibiotics."

"You and everybody else in the world. This for your vengeful boyfriend?"

You don't need him knowing who they're for. He could be an evil guy, and the threat of Steve waiting for you might be your trump card. "No. My vengeful boyfriend left to look for cans in the shelter."

"He'll be back soon, then."

You take a step back. "I'll gouge your eyes out if you try anything, I'm serious. I don't care how big your knife is–"

"I'm Eddie." Eddie smiles at you, shoving his hands into cargo pockets. Despite his weird questions and his choice of apparel, he looks less intimidating in the lingering light of the setting sun as it seeps between window shutters. "I don't want to hurt you." He frowns. "Any kind of hurt."

"Can I have the machete?"

"Nope. I can go put it down somewhere, though, if that's less scary."

You shake your head, and with a great big sigh, lean down to sift through bottles. If he's going to hurt you, he might as well get on with it. The longer you spend talking to him, the sicker your Steve becomes.

"You need antibiotics bad?" Eddie asks, his voice softening.

"My best friend is sick." You toss a bottle, pick up another. "Infection probably getting into his blood. If I don't find something tonight, he's gonna die."

"Well, we can't have that," Eddie says, crouching down to help.

You sweep through bottle after bottle of things you wish you needed. Painkillers, sleeping pills, laxatives. Good shit, and nothing you need.

"You know…" Eddie sighs. "I know you could lie to me, but is it just you, boyfriend and the dying bestie, or?"

You're not sure what the right answer is. Better for him to think you have an army waiting if you get lost, or better to hide them? He could belong to a cult of cannibals. Only… his clothes are squeaky clean. His curls shine with a gloss that comes solely with conditioner, which means he has the time and security to really wash things.

But murders can wash their clothes, right?

"There's a couple of us," you say.

"You're not from that place west, are you?"

You put a pill bottle down slowly. "West?"

"Yeah, there were people there, hundreds of 'em. We got a few stragglers, survivors from the fucking massacre that happened a few weeks ago. One girl said there must've been thirty, forty kids there, it's fucking awful."

You swallow a lump. "Awful," you agree.

"Hopper says we can track down the people who did it if we just follow the blood trail," Eddie says, slipping into a theatrical bravado that won't stick. "I don't know… someone needs to stop them."

You choke, "Hopper? Chief Hopper?"

"Wait, you're from Hawkins?" Eddie asks.

You give each other boggled looks, a thrumming hope building in your chest like a flickering flame in the dead of winter.

"I think you better come back with me," Eddie says.

"I need antibiotics," you say, wanting to explain it to him and now knowing how. Or even if you should. Awesome, Hopper's alive, but that doesn't mean Eddie's group are good people, or that they can help you. There's nothing anyone in the world can do for you right now if they don't have a handful of Augmentin.

"You're from The College."

"I don't have time for this," you say, half apology and half frustration. "Yeah, we were from The College, and now it's gone, and my boyfriend's gonna die if you don't help me find the right pills." You wince and snatch up another stupid bottle.

"I can get you antibiotics," Eddie says, "but you're gonna have to trust me. Can you do that?"

"No."

—

Steve wakes up two days later in an unfamiliar building.

His eyes are made of sand, he can hardly breathe it's that cold, each breath as sharp as a needle as he sucks it in, but there's a roof over his head, a blanket over his chest, and your voice, your laugh rings like a song in the air.

"He didn't do that, you're lying," you say with a laugh, pulling Steve's hand to your chest.

"He did." Steve stiffens at the voice. Deeper, rougher than yours. "I swear on my life, he jumped right into Lover's Lake and swam backstroke to prove he could beat Louisa Park's best."

"Did he beat her time?"

"No, but he had a condom stuck to his ankle when he got out. Wasn't worth it."

"Steve," you say. Steve thinks you've noticed he's waking up, but you hug his hand with a sympathetic sigh. "That's so embarrassing. You better wake up soon, I have making fun of you to do."

"I think I'll stay asleep," he says hoarsely.

You gasp and choke his fingers between yours. "Steve?" You climb up onto the bed, your weight dipping the mattress under his back. Your hand comes careful and warm against his chilled cheek. "You're awake. You're awake?"

He strains to unglue his top lashes from his bottom lashes. You beam at him, the little scars around your mouth from a cruel hand shining in the white morning light.

"What time is it?" he asks.

"It's, like, seven in the morning."

"I've been asleep that long?"

"You've been unconscious for nearly two days," you correct.

Steve can't remember anything. He has the barest memory of your lips on his forehead. Robin splashing cold water on him and calling him an asshole, and then, much quieter, her best friend.

"Where's Robin?" he asks.

"She's being Robin somewhere, you know, she loves being helpful. The kids need help getting settled."

"And you're being lazy," Steve pokes.

He lifts his chin so your kiss lands exactly where he wants it, the stubbly space below his jaw. You wrap your arms around him and hug him severely, squeezing his tender ribs.

"I wasn't lazy, I had to go save you by myself."

"Save everybody," the familiar but impossible voice adds. Steve doesn't want to believe it. He refuses to. "Like, an entire generation."

"I didn't do anything," you say, kissing Steve again, a short path to his chapped lips. "Honey," —your voice lowers, your confession for Steve's ears alone— "I'm so happy you're okay. I was really, really scared."

Steve feels the weight of your fear like a dumbell on his chest, but he's uber confused. Propping his chin over your shoulder and hugging you back, the evil wound on his arm that caused this whole mess throbbing like fire under his bandage, Steve sets his eyes on the boy sitting on the chair next to yours.

"Hey, Harrington," Eddie says warmly, eyes dripping with a put upon affection. "Miss me?"

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Steve asks.

"Saving the day, obviously."

"I can't believe I found one of your friends," you say, sitting up a little to smile at him. You really are gorgeous in his eyes, better than any movie star. Your beatific little grin stirs something, but Eddie's snort stomps it dead.

"We're not friends," Steve says.

You stroke Steve's face with the back of your hand. "Don't be like that. He's really nice…" Your smile melds itself to a concerned frown. "I thought you were kicking it, Stevie. How's your arm feeling? Does it hurt a lot?"

"It's fine," he says dismissively, wrapping his stronger arm around your waist. He's not jealous or anything, it's just cold in here, honest. "Munson, where the fuck did you come from?"

"Right here, Stevie."

"We're not far from the camp," you explain, stroking his face once again. "Or, we weren't when it was there. We're merging with this one to make a mega camp."

"Why would we do that? We don't know that we can trust these people."

"No, but we can trust Hopper." You smile. Steve knows things are gonna be okay, as long as you can smile like that. He leans his cheek into your hand, loved and relieved and–

"Hopper?" Steve asks.

"Jesus, Harrington," Eddie says, rolling his shoulders. "Keep up. If you can't comprehend the easy stuff, you're not gonna believe what we haven't told you."

"What haven't you told me?" Steve asks.

You push his shoulders down into the pillows. "I think you better lay down first."

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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silverbladexyz · 3 months

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TW: Mentions of death, injuries, self-loathing. Part 2 to this. Part 3 is here.

"I can't believe you sometimes. What if you had actually been killed because of your recklessness?!"

"But I wasn't! Even if combat isn't my strong suit, I had it all under control; and besides, these wounds are nothing compared to what we've faced before!"

In the normally tranquil environment of the Port Mafia's infirmary, two voices argued back and forth. One laced with worry and anger, the other laced with guilty adamance. A pair of best friends seemed to be the reason behind this noise; with their stubbornness a guise of the true feelings that they harboured for each other.

"Are you seriously kidding me right now? Even if you had it all under control, that doesn't mean you can gamble your life away like it's nothing! How do you think everyone would feel if you died? Do you want to put them through more pain and suffering that could've been prevented if you were more cautious? Do you even care?!"

"..."

Instead of replying, you turned away, suddenly finding the window to be more interesting than whatever was going on right now.

He was right. You didn't think properly about the consequences before you jumped straight in to engage with the enemy, even if you may have had a backup plan.

"... I'm sorry."

It was soft, but Chuuya managed to catch it.

He gave a small sigh, his shoulders dropping as the tension in them wore out. You fiddled with your bandages, not having the courage to look at him in the eyes. Did you even deserve to, afterall? When you worried him sick after he learnt that he almost lost you?

You heard his footsteps approaching you, and mentally prepared for the next thing that he was going to say.

Only for him to somewhat tug you into his arms.

Your eyes widened, and you blinked several times before realising that Chuuya Nakahara, your best friend, was hugging you.

His breath fanned against your collarbone as he buried his face into your shoulder. Strong arms held you close to him, being mindful of the injuries that you sustained on your body- yet the grip they held you in was tight but secure.

"... You idiot. Don't you dare do that again."

It was the most vulnerable you had ever seen him.

You hugged him back, inhaling his rich scent as an unknown heat bloomed in your chest.

"I won't. I promise, Chuuya."

His warmth never left your memories.

Now, you watched as he stood with her, holding her hand. They were too far away for you to make out their words, but whatever she said made Chuuya laugh. A genuine, happy laugh that seemed so much more different from the short chuckles he normally gave you.

He put his arm around her shoulder, and you unconsciously hugged your body as you felt yourself getting colder. It was the third of December- the start of another winter in Yokohama. Marking the six month anniversary of their relationship.

A wry smile made it's way on your face as Chuuya pulled Yasuko in for a kiss. Even though it was a short peck, it was enough to make your heart twist in longing that exemplified whenever you were around him. It was stupid; you knew that your best friend deserved to have someone much better than the monster you were, but it didn't stop you from wishing that you were her. Someone that was a sight for sore eyes, with an aura brighter than the blue skies- someone that could get Chuuya mesmerised.

You even noticed how he became slightly more distant in the friendship. You knew that he wasn't doing it on purpose; he was still the great best friend that he always was, but the little signs were there. Holding your hand so that you wouldn't get lost in the crowd had diminished to just staying close to you. Whenever you called him on a free day to ask if he wanted to hang out with you, he would apologise, saying 'I have a date with Yasuko later'. And the fact that you had the same free days really said something about how much they meant to him.

You walked away, the sight getting too much to handle. Once you were at a safe distance, you crumpled against a wall, biting down on the inside of your mouth to stop the tears from leaking out. A higher-ranking mafioso like you, crying over some crush? Pathetic. An unfitting model for your subordinates who looked up to you as a great unflinching leader.

"Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half as pretty." You chuckled bitterly, digging your nails into your palms. You hated it- the soft gaze in Chuuya's eyes whenever Yasuko was mentioned, the way that he gently held her hand, the way he became much more sweet and patient with her that was almost nothing like how he acted around you- you hated it all. You regretted not confessing to him sooner all those years ago.

But you were only the side character in their romance; forever doomed to support them while you suffered in silence.

Was there something or somebody that you could blame for this agony that you were currently in? Destiny, perhaps? Or even Cupid? Those names only made you scoff as you stuffed your hands into your pockets.

There was nobody you could blame except for yourself.

Perhaps it would have been better if you were the one who saved Yasuko, not Chuuya. They would have never spent as much time with each other, and you'd still have a chance at romancing him. None of this would have happened if the roles were reversed at that time.

But who were you kidding? One way or another, they’d end up together by the red string of fate. The most perfect match in all of Yokohama that could put every other couple to shame. And you'd always be the third wheel- the 'best friend' whose sacrifices went unseen just so that they could be happy.

Or maybe it would have been better if Yasuko didn't exist in the first place.

"-Y/N? Y/N?"

A voice broke you out of your thoughts, and you blinked a bit before refocusing onto the girl in front of you.

"Is everything okay? N-not that you have to tell me what's wrong, but if you ever need someone to talk to, I'll always be here for you."

Yasuko looked at you with a concerned expression, her eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort.

Those innocent, beautiful eyes of hers that had held Chuuya captive in their gaze.

Ah, right. You were currently in the shopping mall with her, because her boyfriend had asked you to accompany her like some sort of bodyguard. And who were you to refuse, as his best friend who was always there for him? Well, you were grateful that Chuuya trusted you enough to let you near Yasuko. You had seen how protective he was of her.

"... Nothing. I'm alright."

You smiled at her, all traces of your previous emotions now gone. How could you have let your composure slip so easily? This hangout was so that you could 'get closer' with her, not reminiscing about the pathetic past that held you captive in this agonising love.

She frowned a little, but before she could say anything else, you jumped at the opportunity to distract her. Anything that could make you temporarily forget your pain for one moment was what you desperately needed now.

"Oh, looks like they're selling discounted jewellery! Let's take a look! You might find something that you like."

Grabbing her wrist, you dragged her towards the jewellery store despite having no intentions to buy anything. You simply wanted her to be distracted by the precious stones, so meticulously cut and fit into fine metal that it was laughable how they were mostly for show. A valuable trinket only made to be admired and forgotten at the end of the day, even when so much blood had been spilled over them. Blood that would forever stain the hands of a sinner such as you.

"Oh! I remember Chuuya taking me to a similiar store! He bought me a ring; I said that there was no need, but he insisted." Yasuko glanced down at the gold-and-red circlet that lay snugly around her index finger, her gaze becoming shyer as she profoundly remembered the day that her beloved boyfriend had bought it for her.

Your own silver ring that he gifted to you on your 18th birthday paled in comparison to the 5-carat Burmese ruby that sat atop her finger. It was a harsh reminder of who the buyer really preferred from between the two of you. That twisted feeling in your gut resurfaced, but you pushed it back down. You had no more frivolous hopes that he would one day realise you were the one whom he truly belonged with.

"Haha... did he now? I didn't know Chuuya was such a romantic. Did you know that rubies symbolise passionate and undying love?" You smiled as she blushed; the redness on her cheeks rivaling the shade of the precious gemstone that was proof of his commitment to her.

People were right when they said love hurts, but they never mentioned that it was the most painful sensation in the world. All the stab wounds and burns and whatnot that you had experienced from your enemies were nothing compared to a broken heart. A heart that was made to be torn apart to pieces as it weeps for the love it would never get.

Something cold brushed against your wrist, and you looked down to see a bracelet made up of the most exquisite yellow topaz. Yasuko held an identical one in her hand, her expression almost bashful as she faced you.

"I... I wanted to get matching bracelets for the two of us. I know it's only been a few months since we became friends, but being around you has really brightened up my life. I'm glad that we got to meet each other, and I hope that our friendship continues to grow and strengthen!"

She smiled at you; a smile so full of purity and beauty that it would've made many men fall onto her knees in front of her. It was a smile that didn't belong in the dark depths of Yokohama- instead, it belonged to a goddess that was too good for this world. A goddess that clearly deserved to call Nakahara Chuuya hers. Just seeing that smile made you feel infinitely more guilty about the nasty thoughts you had about her each night.

Yasuko's smile faded, worried that she might have overstepped your boundaries due to your silence.

"S-sorry... I should've asked you beforehand if you wanted to buy matching bracelets. Please don't force yourself to buy it just to make me happy-"

You shut her up by slipping it onto your right wrist, the topaz seeming to reflect the sun's golden rays back at you. Shooting her a smile, you grasped Yasuko's hand and put the other bracelet onto her left wrist joint. It fit nicely; just like anything else that she wore.

"May our friendship last until death do us part." It was a pact that you had sworn with Chuuya before. And you always kept your word, never breaking a promise to someone no matter how bizarre or extreme it was.

How unfortunate, really, that death did you apart too early.

@circinuus @riiwrites @ruanais @justcallmesakira @yasu-masashige @oldworldpoolhall @heartsfourdazai @ashthemadwriter-uwu @sariel626 @yuugen-benni @chocsra @iridescentdove

#silverbladexyz #no way did I just pull a Heather in my fic #it's a good song though #i hope this was okay #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x female reader #chuuya x gn reader #chuuya x fem!reader #part 2 of unrequited love fic #yellow topaz symbolises friendship btw #unrequited love

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ellieluvr420 · 2 months

Text

Friends? Never. Pt.15 (Ellie Williams x reader)

SYNOPSIS: You and Ellie had been bitter enemies for years now but before that you were best friends. You had always planned to be roommates one day but when that becomes a reality the situation isn't exactly how you both imagined it.

Story-typical violence, brief mention of attempted SA and SMUT so mdni pls and thanks xoxo

Wow this is a long one, sorry it took me a couple days but I hope it was worth it for you angels, thank you so much for all the love on this series!! Also only ten more chapters left omg! I'm so excited for you guys to read the next chapter, hopefully you will love it as much as I do already <3

As Ellie approached the cabin, a sickness erupted in her stomach as she struggled to swallow the lump in her throat, it had to be you in there, she didn’t know what she would do if it wasn’t. She inched open the door and called out your name, bile rising to her mouth when the only response is silence. “Fuck.” She calls out your name again and when there’s no response she feels her body crumbling as her heart shatters but just before she goes to turn and leave completely defeated, something catches her eye, a shiny metallic glint poking out from behind the sofa. She rushes over to it and as she yanks it from its position on the floor she gasps. Your cross-body bag you had had on you when you left that morning. “Oh my god you were here.” She mutters to herself before slinging the bag over her body and searching the house just in case, she notes two infected dead in one of the bedrooms but she knows they aren’t you just from their size and clothing, so she moves on without a second thought. When she knows the house is empty she rushes outside and notices the hoof tracks leading towards the shed, the door hanging off its hinges allowing her to see its empty inside also. She can feel the panic driving her to insanity but she concentrates on her breathing as she tries to think rationally about what could’ve happened. Maybe you had just left it because it had no use to you, she ripped it open and when she saw what was inside her stomach only sank further, band-aids, a small bottle of water, a lighter and some other things but each of them would’ve been of some use to you. She had always made fun of you for bringing so many random things in that tiny bag wherever you went but now she understood, so why hadn’t you taken it with you?

She rushed back to Shimmer as she realised you could be in trouble and immediately starts off again despite the blanket of darkness making her journey all the more dangerous. She had already emptied multiple magazines as she shot at any infected that jumped out of the darkness at her, if she wasn’t in such a rush she would’ve stopped and taken some out with her switchblade but she couldn’t waste any time, she needed to get to you. She was beginning to lose hope, the flame inside her slowly dying as she continued searching with no success until she heard voices, men, chatting and laughing. She hopped off of Shimmer and crept towards the sounds.

“Did you see the catch we brought in earlier? God she was a fighter but fuck is she gonna be worth it.”

“She that pretty huh?”

“Oh yeah, you’re gonna love her.” The rage inside her boils, even if they aren’t talking about you the conversation between the two men still made her want to rip their throats out, she tried to ignore the twisted hope inside of her that they were talking about you because it means you could be getting hurt and abused but all she could think about is if it is you, that means she’s close to getting you back. She emerges from the bushes where she had been crouched listening with her gun trained on them as they both freeze at her sudden appearance.

“Get on your knees, put your hands behind your heads.” Neither of them move, still frozen in shock. “Did I fucking stutter? NOW!” She cocks her gun and they both immediately drop to their knees, putting their hands on their heads, she rushes over to them and removes each of their guns and a knife from one before throwing them out of reach. She stands before them and as she makes eye contact with one she rapidly aims her gun at the others knee and shoots, he falls down with a shriek of agony and as the other leans forward to look at his friend she slams her foot into his face sending him flying backwards. She crouches over the one she had kicked, completely ignoring the one writhing around in pain from the bullet wound. “Listen to me very carefully, describe the girl you were just talking about.” He groans in pain as he clutches his nose that was bleeding profusely, she grows impatient and stomps down onto his face once again. “I’m not gonna ask you again, describe her.” He lets out a shaky breath and begins describing you in perfect detail and her heart flips knowing you’d be with her soon. “Good, now whisper so that your friend can’t hear, where is she being held?”

“A-at our base, keep going northeast from here and you’ll find it, it’s not far, please I’ll- I’ll take you there, you can have her back, we can make a deal.” He pleads still in a whisper, she sneers at him and brandishes her switch blade before diving it into the man’s fore arm until she feels it sink into the ground, pinning him in place, he wails and curses her but she pays no mind as she walks over to the other man that had gone grey from blood loss and pain.

“Where’s your base? Your story better match his.”

“N-northeast from here, ‘bout a fifteen-minute walk so won’t take you long.”

“Good, you’re not as stupid as you look.” She raises her gun and without a second thought shoots him straight between the eyes before walking over to the other man who was writhing around desperately trying to free himself from the switch blade dug into his arm, she raises her gun and delivers a shot to match his friends before ripping her knife from his arm, wiping it on her jeans and replacing it in her jeans pocket. She rushes back to Shimmer and heads in the direction of the base until she sees the light of multiple campfires surrounded by tents that varied in size. There was a quiet bustle of people moving around and as she watched she tried to figure out how many she was dealing with and where you could be. She had planned to move quietly and try to get to you with the least confrontation as possible but when she makes eye contact with a man standing by one of the fires she throws the plan out the window and begins shooting at every person in sight.

She watched them drop to the ground like flies and there was not a hint of remorse in her, most of them were unarmed, arrogant she thought, but it only helped her cause as she moved through the base, searching each tent and massacring anyone that crossed her path. The ground beneath her feet was painted red and the sight only exhilarated her. She was so close, she could feel it, the magnetic pull between you tugging her closer and closer to you. Gun shots began to ring out around her as the few men that had escaped her grasp had armed themselves and were closing in on her where she was crouched behind one of the many tents you weren’t in. She checked the ammo she had left and catalogued it against the number of men she could count, and she was low, really low. As she heard their steps getting closer, she prepared herself for what was likely to be her last fight but as the sound of gunshots is accompanied by the repetitive thudding of bodies dropping to the ground, she pokes her head round the corner to see the men that were creeping up on her, dead in a pile on the floor. She looked around in awe and as her eyes fell on you emerging from round a corner cautiously, she feels her body relax as she exhales a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding in, she jumps up and out from the corner where she was hiding and immediately raises her hands in panic as you raise your gun at her. “Hey it’s me, it’s okay.” You lower your gun hesitantly before running over to her and body slamming her to the ground in as you press kisses all over her flushed face.

“Oh my god, you’re here. I’m so sorry I ran, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, are you?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m good but there’s more coming so we gotta go.” You rush out as you clamber off of her, pulling her up with yourself. “You ready?”

“Always.” You hand your gun to her before going over to one of the men and grabbing the rifle from him and checking the chamber for bullets. You both run through the base, shooting at anyone that even crossed your path before you gasp and stop, Ellie running straight into you. “What’s up babe?”

“They have Greg, we have to find him.”

“Seriously? Shimmer’s tied up just outside, we’ve got a horse.”

“I know but Ellie he’s my baby, I can’t leave him.” She shoots at a man running at you from behind before sighing and nodding.

“Fine, come on.” You both sneak away from the main path and begin searching the perimeter until you see the shiny grey speckled coat of Greg.

“Oh my god, look there he is, watch my back I’m gonna go get him.” You run off before Ellie can reply before slowing down and approaching him gently as to not spook him while you untie his reins from the post he was attached to before climbing onto his saddle and holding a hand out to Ellie, she takes it with no hesitation and you both speed away from the base until you reach Shimmer where Ellie quickly jumps onto her back so you can continue fleeing the scene of your massacre.

Once you were sure you weren’t being followed you let the horses slow down to a trot to let them catch their breath as you made your way through the dense forest, both on full alert as you’re sure there’s infected that would’ve been drawn to the area from all the commotion.

“If you wanna keep looking for your parents we can, I’m sorry I was such an asshole about it earlier.”

“It’s okay, you were trying to keep me safe and they’re probably long gone by now anyway. Let’s just go home.” There was a hint of sadness in your voice but she decides not to press further for now as you both continue on in silence, processing all that had happened in the past few hours.

4 HOURS BEFORE

As you walked through the door you let out a choked cry as you immediately recognised the turning-infected standing before you.

“Mommy.” Your voice is strained as tears begin to fall down your cheeks, you were too late. You don’t even have a chance to grieve them as your father, though not really your father anymore, comes lunging at you. “No, no, please don’t make me do this.” You cry as if they have any control over their actions, you hold him away from you as he snaps his teeth at you and before you can second guess yourself you dive your knife into his neck, his blood splattering over you and the floor as he drops letting choked groans out of his mouth. Your mother screeches and lunges at you and you sob more as you hold her away from you. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I love you, I’m sorry.” You repeat as you take her down too until they are both unmoving on the floor. You walk out of the room, closing the door behind you as the sobs shake your body. As you make it to the living room, you collapse onto the floor as the sobs don’t stop even for a second, your parents were dead, you had killed them.

You stay curled in a ball, holding yourself as you cry until you fall into a restless sleep.

You’re woken as you feel your body being shuffled and shaken and as your eyes meet those of the man binding your wrists together your breathing quickens and your eyes widen in fear. “AGH GET OFF ME YOU PRICK!” You scream as you thrash around in his arms, you managed to kick him hard enough to jump up with difficulty due to your wrists being tied and as you make a run for the door, he grabs onto your ankle and yanks sending you crashing to the floor, hitting your jaw hard enough you felt like you had broken it, you groan and kick at him but his grip around you was tight enough you were having trouble breathing.

“Guys get in here! She’s fucking fighting.”

“GET OFF ME I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU’RE ALL GONNA DIE. GET OFF ME!” You shriek as two of his friends walk in with equally excited looks on their faces that make you sick to your stomach.

The rest of the journey to their base was a blur but as you’re thrown into a tent by two men who then stand at the entrance, guns in their hands you sigh realising the gravity of your situation. You guess a couple hours had passed, though you had no actual idea, before a man you hadn’t seen before walks into the tent with a menacing grin plastered over his features.

“Wow they didn’t say just how pretty you are.” His voice is gravelly and it sends a shiver down your spine as he inches closer to you. “Hey if you beg I might go easy on you.” He chuckles as he reaches for his belt buckle.

“Fuck you, I’m not begging for shit.” You deliver a hard kick to his shin and he keels over with a hiss before back handing you hard enough you fall onto your front.

“You’re gonna fucking regret that.” He sneers at you as he pins you down despite your thrashing, you clamped your eyes shut and prepared for the worst but it never came because gunshots started thundering down just outside the tent causing him to halt his movements and clamber out of the tent. The shrieks and cries are almost drowned out by the consistent gunfire and you realise this is your chance to run, you sneak to the entrance and look through the tiny gap, there’s only one man guarding the tent now which makes your life all the more easier. You burst out of the tent, snatching the gun from the man’s hands and shooting three times, overkill, you thought, but you were pissed. He drops to the ground and you immediately survey your surroundings, there are people scattering in all directions but you watch as so many of them fall to the ground in their fleeing. You creep throughout the base and swap your gun for one lying by one of the many dead bodies, checking the magazine and pushing forward. You’re hidden round the corner of one of the larger tents in the base and you see a group of men, all armed, enclosing on a tent a few metres away and you take your aim and eliminate each one before they even know where the shots are coming from. You wait for a second to check it’s clear before emerging from round the corner where you were hidden to check you had shot them all fatally.

“Told you you’d all die.” As you’re looking over the bodies with a sick sense of satisfaction you hear a shuffle and immediately raise the gun only to hear the only voice you wanted to hear in that moment.

“Hey it’s me, it’s okay.” It’s Ellie, she’s here, she found you and she saved you.

“Ellie.” You whisper to yourself as you leap at her sending you both falling to the ground as relief floods through your veins like gold.

“So how did you find me?”

“I found the cabin and your bag and then when I was searching the area for you, I found these two guys from that group... I made them talk.” Ellie mutters the last part of her sentence in shame, she would’ve done anything to find you, but she doesn’t like the thought of you knowing the extent of it for fear you’d see her as the monster that she believes she is.

“Thank you Ellie. If you hadn’t saved me when you did...” Your sentence trails off as you can’t bring yourself to say the words you’re sure would hurt her more than you, you don’t meet her eyes that are staring intently at yours and she decides not to press further.

“So errr I think we’re really fucking lost.” She admits as she scratches at the back of her neck as she tries to make sense of any of her surroundings, failing miserably.

“Yeah I’ve got no fucking clue where we are. Maybe we should find a place to stay and figure it out in the morning when we can actually see more than a few feet in front of us.”

“Mmm this is why you’re the brains of the operation babe.”

“Yeah we’d be fucked if it was you.”

“I was being nice and this is what I get it.” You chuckle at her as you both continue making your way through the dense forest, now looking for somewhere, anywhere, to stay the night. As a comfortable silence falls over you both your mind casts back to the memories of the cabin and your eyes sting as tears prick at them, you’re so trapped in your mind, falling victim to the never-ending voices telling you that it’s your fault your parents are dead, that you’re a monster for killing them, that you don’t deserve anything good, that you don’t notice Ellie’s repeated, muffled calls of your name until her hand is squeezing your shoulder causing you to jump abruptly and spin your head to meet Ellie’s worried expression at your glassy eyes and quivering lip.

“Babe, what’s up?”

“Nothing, nothing, just a long day, what were you saying?”

“I think I see something, look through those trees and up.” She says as she turns your head with a gentle grip to see what she had seen, you can barely make it out because it’s so dark but it is there, a house, a big one at that, in the distance.

“Oh my god finally.” You smile genuinely for the first time today and Ellie reciprocates it as you both pick up the pace towards the house.

As you near it you see a barn just behind it and the fence that enclosed the large property, you worry that you won’t be able to get in but as Ellie dismounts Shimmer and approaches in front of you and pushes on the gate, you relax because the door swings open with ease. “Damn I was not expecting that.” Ellie says as she holds the gate open for you, you jump down from Greg and lead him inside, shutting it behind you and pulling the large metal deadbolt across the gate shut.

“Working lock and everything, seems too good to be true.”

“Oh come on, you’re supposed to be the optimistic one out of us.”

“Yeah.” You chuckle unconvincingly as Ellie shoots you a look at your tone. You both walk up the hill through the long overgrown grass, letting it tickle your palms as you glide them over it, until you reach the porch of the house. “Why don’t we put the horses in the barn before we go in?”

“Yeah good idea.” Ellie begins walking round the house until she hears your footsteps thumping up the porch, she turns to see you looking out into the distance with awe painted all over your face.

“Ellie, that mountain in the distance, that looks like the mountain on the east side of Jackson, I think it’s right behind it, reckon it would take us a couple hours to get back tomorrow, if that.”

“Shit really? Lemme look.”

“Oh what you don’t trust me?” You snark at her as she rolls her eyes before joining you on the porch.

“Holy fuck babe you’re a genius.” She grabs your cheeks and pecks at your whole face as you giggle, you pull her into a bone-crushing hug and breathe her scent in like it’s oxygen, you both stay frozen like that until Greg neighs reminding you of the task at hand.

“Come on, they need their beauty sleep just as much as us.” You grab her hand and squeeze as you drag her down the porch and towards the barn once again.

“You stay with the horses, I’ll go check it’s clear.” Ellie asserts as you reach the large double doors.

“Yes ma’am.” You do an exaggerated salute at her and she smiles at you seeming like yourself for the first time since she had found you before inching the door open and slipping inside, she stays still for a second just listening for any sign of movement but when it seems completely quiet she moves around the barn trying her best to make out the surroundings despite the darkness. She checks everywhere twice before telling you it’s clear and walking to meet you as you bring both the horses into the barn, you say goodnight to both horses before walking out hand in hand and shutting the doors behind you. As you’re walking back towards the house you stop for a second to look out over the landscape before you, it was breathtaking, it made you feel warm and calm for the first time since you had left Jackson as you lean your head on her shoulder, nuzzling into her. “You ever seen a view that pretty?”

“Only when I’m looking at you.” You smile and peck her nose before giggling.

“You’re so corny.”

“You’re really mean you know that?”

“Yeah I’ve been told once or twice.” You chuckle as you lead her towards the house desperate for some sleep. You both put your guards up once again as you enter the house quietly and check every room to make sure it’s clear. You couldn’t believe it when the entire house was empty, left in almost pristine condition, all the furniture is clean despite a little dust, there doesn’t seem to be an item out of place as you survey the home and you can’t help but imagine yourself here, cooking dinner with Ellie in the spacious kitchen, watching films on the squishy sofa, sleeping in the large bed together, doing other things in the large bed together, you could picture yourself here, with Ellie, the images warmed you. Even as you looked at the baby crib set at the end of the bed against the opposite wall you felt warm and as you look at Ellie, leaning on the doorframe observing you with a giddy smile, you know she feels it too. “It’s so beautiful here, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a house in this good condition, even the fence is fine, I can’t believe it.”

“I know, it’s perfect right?” She doesn’t say the words but you’re both thinking it. Perfect for us.

“What would make it perfect is if there was any food in that pretty kitchen, I’m fucking starving.”

“Me too. Let’s go look.” She holds out her hand to you and you take it as you walk side by side back downstairs to the kitchen before routing through the cupboards for anything that could quell the thundering in your stomach that was causing it to twist and ache.

“Shit, fucking score!”

“I’m starting a swear jar when we get back home.”

“Okay you’ll fill it up just as much as me.” She retorts.

“Not possible.” You grin at the frown on her face.

“What would we even fill it with? Joel said they used to put money in ‘em.”

“I don’t know, I’ll think of something.”

“Whatever, just come look.” You walk over to the cupboard she was holding open and your mouth waters at the sight, a whole cupboard full of tinned pasta, tinned fruit, anything you can think of you swear is in that cupboard.

“Fuck yeah!”

“How much are we putting in that swear jar for each word?” She says smugly.

“Shut up.”

“You pick the food and I’ll find something to cook it with.” Ellie says already rummaging through the other cupboards and drawers, you read all of the tins, moving some around to get a better look at everything and decide on some leak and potato soup to share, something you had a lot as a kid, and some cheese ravioli in a tomato sauce, both look so good already and as you spin round to show the options she nods in approval.

“El we can literally have a three-course meal, there’s tinned peaches in here too. They could use some better organisational skills, but this is fucking amazing.”

“Hey, be nice, whoever was here before us is my favourite person right now.”

“Gonna pretend I’m not offended by your statement.”

“Oh you know what I meant.” She rolls her eyes as she pulls you into a hug after placing two saucepans down on the stove. “Just gotta hope they’ve got gas.”

“Well I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” You say as you tear open each can and pour the contents into their respective saucepans. You each cross your fingers as you both turn the dials to set the stove a light and as fires light up underneath the pans you both exclaim in relief. While the food cooks you continue looking around the house, this time observing all the little trinkets and picture frames that told the story of the previous inhabitants. You hope whoever lived here before is alive and well as you read the story of their lives all around you. The sound of clattering sends you straight back to the kitchen where you see Ellie serving up the pasta and soup and you each take two dishes as you walk over to the long dining table, you sitting on the end and Ellie sitting to the right of you. Neither of you speak as you both wolf down your meals until you’re both slouched in your chairs holding your full stomachs. “I needed that.”

“Yeah I can imagine you worked up quite the appetite running away.” Ellie raises her eyebrows accusingly at you as you smile sheepishly back at her.

“Sorry again about that.”

“It’s okay, I get it, are you sure you don’t want to keep looking? We know roughly where we are now at least so we don’t have to rush back if you don’t want to.”

“Thank you but honestly it’s okay, I don’t think they’d want to see me even if we did find them.” You bow your head, avoiding Ellie’s eyes that were staring at you as if trying to read your thoughts.

“You know none of this is your fault right?” She places her hand over your shaky one to calm the obvious trembling. You don’t reply, simply flashing a smile that didn’t reach your eyes before you stand, piling the dishes up and taking them to the sink to deal with later before returning to Ellie and squeezing her shoulders.

“Come on, let’s go to bed.” As she stands you walk to the front door and lock it before following her up the stairs back to the bedroom with the cot in. You both strip your dirty clothes until you’re both in your underwear, not wanting to leave any windows open just to be safe. As you climb under the covers you sigh at the softness of the mattress and pillows that feel like they’re enveloping you in their embrace. You feel Ellie’s hand snake over your stomach as she pulls you into her, so your back is flush against her front as she presses kisses all over your shoulder up to your neck and jaw, at the same time, her hand that was pressed behind your back lifts your head gently to slip underneath it and grab a handful of your boob and squeeze playfully. Her right hand moves from your waist down your stomach, tracing little circles that cause goosebumps to appear on your skin as her left hand’s index finger circles around your nipple. Her little kisses never stop as her hand keeps snaking lower until it reaches the waistband of your underwear where she slips her pinkie inside and waits for a signal to continue. Your small groan accompanied with your hand snaking its way into her hair and tugging a little is enough confirmation for her to delve into your folds, searching and finding your throbbing clit expertly. She knew your body like the back of her hand and that is only proved when she starts circling the sensitive bud with careful precision causing fireworks to erupt in your stomach. You moan as the stimulation from both her hands was causing your body to melt which only furthered when she whispered. “Look at me,” before consuming you with a kiss that causes everything else around you both to fade away into fuzzy nothingness.

The room is filled with your muffled groans and the subtle smacking of your lips against one another. Your whole body felt like it was burning, like Ellie’s fingertips were being singed as they continued their dance over you. All the heartache and fear that you had felt throughout the day was wiped away as the love you felt for the beautiful girl coursed through your veins and caused your body to hum. The coil is tightening within you as her circles around your clit speed up continuously until your mouth is hanging open, barely able to kiss her back as your body tenses and trembles with the rush of your orgasm. You cry out as your toes curl and your head falls back onto her shoulder as you ride your high until your body stills and the only sound is your heavy breaths.

You take a second to catch your breath before turning round and kissing her sweetly on the lips. “God you’re good at that.” She giggles at your dazed smile as you both stare into each other’s eyes conveying the love that kept you both pressed together as if there was an invisible string tied round each of your hearts. Ellie scrunches her face in confusion as she feels you shuffling around before she sees your hand emerge with your balled-up underwear in it as you bite your lip and chuck them behind you. She raises her eyebrows as you bite back a grin before she also shuffles her briefs off, mimicking your actions and as she goes to climb on top of you, you push her back down flush to the bed as you straddle one of her thighs and lift the other to wrap around your waist.

“Well this is different.” She comments with a giggle.

“Good different?” You question, your voice laced with anxiety. She smiles at the worried look on your face as she leans up and pecks your nose.

“So good baby.” Your worried face immediately twists into joy as you focus on fitting your hips together the same way she had done so many times before, it takes you a little longer to get the position just right but you know you’ve succeeded when Ellie sucks in a sharp breath as her hands fly to your hips and squeeze. She begins grinding your hips into her as you lean down, pressing your lips to her neck and sucking small bruises as she groans and grunts from the slide of your wet cunt against hers. You match the movements of her hands as they become rougher, you’re sure there will be little bruises in the place of her fingertips tomorrow. She nudges your face with her nose to get you to meet her eyes as you connect your lips, plunging your tongue into the wet, softness of her mouth. You felt like you were both stars colliding with each other as the pressure in your core built to its limit sending you both toppling over the edge as you cling onto each other. You collapse onto her chest as you both heave and bask in the warm afterglow of your releases.

You can feel the depths of your tiredness causing your body to weigh ten times more than it ever did but before you can fall asleep you sit up and bite at your cheek as you gaze at Ellie’s lop-sided smile.

“Wanna go look at the stars? Even Jackson doesn’t have as good a view as here.”

“How are you not already asleep?” You shrug at her question as you climb off of her and walk over to the wardrobe hoping to find some clean clothes. When you open it, you see two fuzzy robes, a pink one and a black one, you pull them out and turn to her with a mischievous grin as you throw the pink robe at her and wrap the black one around yourself. “No fucking way, swap with me.”

“Can’t hear you, what was that babe?” You rush past her and out of the bedroom leaving her no choice but to wrap the pink one around herself and follow you out to the yard where you’re already walking towards a tractor that was sat in the middle of the long-grassed field. She jogs to catch up with you and as you climb up onto the ladder, she grabs your hips and pulls you back down causing a laugh to erupt from inside you. She climbs up in your place then holds a hand out to you and helps you situate yourself on her lap as you both look up at the inky sky dotted with silvery sparkles of constellations you had never seen so clearly. You sigh contently as you lean back into her, resting your head on her shoulder and holding onto her hands, interlinking your fingers with hers that were clasped together at your waist.

You take a deep breath and prepare yourself to utter the words you thought you’d never be able to say but in the comfort and warmth of Ellie’s embrace you know you can’t shut down like you had always preferred to do. “My parents are dead.”

“What?” You feel the shuffle of her turning to look at you but you don’t meet her eyes, choosing to keep looking at the stars that mirrored the freckles dotted over Ellie’s cheeks.

“I found them but I was too late, they had been bitten and were turning. I killed them. Sorry I lied, I just didn’t think I could actually ever say it out loud.” Your voice doesn’t crack, or tremble, you feel strong enough to deal with the reality you were now faced with in her presence, and you had never been more grateful for her than in this moment.

“I’m so sorry babe, are you okay?”

“No, but I will be, you make everything better, I’ll be okay with you.” She leans her head on yours and wraps her arms around you tighter.

“I love you.”

“I love you more... and I love this farm.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You hum as you smile. Tomorrow was another day, and you could handle that, because Ellie would be there with you.

tags: @emiliabby @readbydayana @radioheadfan699 @lil-elliesgf @isitadinosaur @amberputh

#ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie smut #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #tlou ellie #ellie

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bellaofthevalley · 5 months

Text

Savanaclaw: in Ailment

just a cutesy probably ooc leona sickfic text in italics and bold is text messages. text only in italics is thoughts.

Won't be able to make it to our breakfast date. Sorry Leona </3 will make it up to u promise! <333

Leona stares at the text with furrowed brows, his tail twisting behind him. Every little move it does speaks volumes about his confusion and worry, but no anger; he knows his darling isn't the type to cancel their dates randomly for no reason, especially one he knows you'd been really looking forward to. It had taken a while of him nagging you for you to admit you really, really wanted to try a particularly expensive but beautiful and highly-praised spot.

Expensive for you, but quite cheap for Leona. Leona, who hadn't wasted much time before he'd reserved a spot. So for you to now text him this…. It is concerning.

And then he gets another text before he can ask you why.

Sick :( don't wanna make u sick 2 :(((

Leona huffs, raising an eyebrow. Idiot. His favourite idiot, but still an idiot. If you thought he'd just simply let you be, you were sorely mistaken.

I'll swing by the doctors. Do you need any specific medicine?

(You'd laughed once, about how his formal training as a Prince shines through his texts. He always, according to you, used right spellings and punctuations.)

Noooooo!!!! stay home nd nap i can brave thru this!!!!

No, you really can't and shouldn't. Leona snorts at his own thoughts, finally pocketing his phone without answering. He's in his room already, so all he has to do is pick up a bag that contains a gift for you and then, just like he'd said he'd do, swing by the doctors to pick up some common cold and fever medicine, and then he leaves the palace.

He doesn't go to your home right away, though. He stops by a shop, picks out several ingredients all fresh and new for a chicken broth, and then he finally goes to your house; it's in a quiet neighbourhood, though your place is quite visible simply because you like having a colourful garden and vines with blooming flowers that crawl up your walls. Some of them were luminescent, so they glowed soothing shades in the night, perfect for sleeping under in your back garden.

But now isn't the time to think about that.

Leona doesn't need to knock; he has a copy of your house key, and uses that to enter your home. In the quietude and the closed drapes that leave the house dim, the only thing he can make out right away is your soothing scent, stifled by your sickness.

And then he hears your coughs, broken only by your sneeze, and he knows he has to act fast.

Chicken broth doesn't take much time to cook, so he gets working on that while simultaneously cleaning around your house… which is already clean, so he knows you'd either already done it and made yourself feel worse, or was so sick you couldn't leave your bed in the first place.

Leona sets the broth to simmer, picks up his gift bag, and climbs up the stairs to your room. “Darling? It's me, Leona.” he calls, hearing your rustling and moving in your bed before he reaches your room and sees you.

“Leona?” voice scratchy, your head pops up from the blanket you'd cocooned yourself in. Your hair was flying up in every way, and your eyes were droopy, barely awake. But you're aware enough to pout frown. “Didn't… didn't I say not to come here?”

“No.” Leona easily replies, putting his hand on your forehead. Too hot, and yet you were still shivering…. Which wasn't that much of a surprise when he sees you're only wearing a tank top and some shorts. In winter. But chiding your right now would just make you feel worse.

“Leonaaa…” You whine quietly, closing your eyes. Shivers go down your body, and you try to bury yourself more in the blanket. “So cold, so tired, so sick…”

“I know, doll,” he sighs, taking the blanket off you even when you whine again. “Come on, let's change you into something warmer and take you out of this room. The air is stale here.”

And here is where he pulls his gift out; a lion onesie, thick and fluffy and worlds warmer than your current clothes, and faintly smelling like him. Leona helps you change into it, feeling you lean against him.

“Warm,” Your whisper is soft, wiggling your toes in the onesie while Leona fixes your bedhead so tangled hair doesn't irritate you. “And soft. Comfy.”

“Good.” he replies, finished and setting the brush down. Winding his arms under your back and thighs, Leona carries you downstairs to the living room, to the couch. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Dunno… not hungry.” You sigh when he places you down, curling up immediately in his arms before he can leave to bring you the soup. “So… tired. Should've dressed warmer when I went out a few days ago.”

Leona wraps his arms around you, pulling you to rest on top of him. The house is warm now, the smell of chicken broth curling in the air and your body safe and sound in his embrace, shivers subsiding and your eyes blinking slower and slower.

“Sleep, doll.” he whispers against you, kissing her temple. His lips linger on your skin, hands massaging down your back. His magic wraps a blanket around you, freshly tumbled and dried, and he feels you melt even more against him.

“I'll take care of you, I promise. Always.”

Masterpost

#twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar #leona kingsholar x reader #twst x reader #leona #leona x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fluff #twst imagines #disney twst

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m00nc4kes · 5 months

Text

I love you. (pt 2)

hobie brown x black! reader

words: 4.9k

rating: teen & up

summary: Love was a four letter word and it fucking hurt.

warnings: gender isn't mentioned for reader but they're fem leaning; drinking and vomitting; beginnings of a panic attack; hurt with no comfort (yet); just a lot of longing (reader is going THROUGH IT)

pt. 1 pt. 3

Love was a four letter word.

If you looked in a dictionary, it would tell you that it was an intense feeling of deep affection. Unfortunately, you couldn’t remember the last time you had opened a dictionary.

Love had its definition skewed throughout your life. The affection you received from your parents was in the name of “tough love”. It told you that you weren’t meant to be sensitive, you weren’t meant to make mistakes— you were meant to know things before ever learning them.

Your definition of the word love always had the word tough attached to it. You didn’t know there could be love without it. A love that didn’t crumble your self-esteem or ground your self-worth into dust didn’t seem possible.

Love was a four letter word. A four letter word that hurt.

Love hurt.

Yet, at the same time, love could be hypocritical. It was hypocritical when you read the Bible and prayed to a being that was all-knowing and all-loving, yet damned you to a hell for something it knew you couldn't control. You were damned to hell for love by the god of Love, the supposed embodiment of the emotion itself.

It was hypocritical when the very being of love spared none in the name of it. The god of Love demanded love above one’s children, or else. The god of Love demanded love even in the face of complete and utter annihilation, or else.

Love was a four letter word and it was demanded of you, or else.

Love was tough.

Love was hypocritical.

Love hurt. And it hurt. And it hurt.

Until it didn’t— until someone saw your broken pieces and decided they were more than worthy enough to be put back together.

Love was a four letter word and you had found a new definition in Hobie. You had found it in his voice, whether it was at the top of his lungs when he was performing or gentle words only meant for your ears. You had found it tucked behind his smiles, directed at you or not, and in every blissful touch you’d received from him.

He had blurred your past definitions of love until you had opened a dictionary, skimmed the damn thing for the word love, and found Hobie under it. It was a love you had cherished and did your best to nurture.

You held it close to you, even when it had you curled up on your bedroom floor and silent. Your tears would slide down your cheeks, dry, then rinse and repeat. The thought of eating made you sick to your core while the thought of moving made you curl yourself into a tighter ball. You were sure you would’ve snapped out of your spell eventually, but you didn’t move fast enough for your friends.

Love was a four letter word that made your friends force their way into your apartment and physically remove you from the depression that clung onto you. Your best friend had picked you up off the floor and held your trembling frame as you tried to curb your sobs. She wiped your tears with her thumb and held you tight, whispering that you could come back from this.

Could you?

Your trust had been shattered— you had allowed yourself to be vulnerable, thinking there was no way you could be stabbed in the back. In some cruel twist of fate, you’d been correct. Hobie had looked you in your eye and lodged a blade into your chest.

You were fooled by the fickle thing called love— a fool for seeing what love was capable of being and still trying to prove otherwise. You saw it, believed it finally. You were done trying to find a new definition for it.

Love was hypocritical.

Love was demanding.

Love was Hobie.

But love still hurt.

And it hurt. And it hurt.

In the beginning, you were incapable of going places that you knew Hobie would be. The pub? No. The old community center? Absolutely the fuck not. Just the thought of seeing his face again made your heart crumble in your already blood-covered hands. Picking up the pieces was hard enough— connecting one fragile piece to another required a determination you no longer had. So you gave that up and focused on repairing your walls.

Because love hurt and you’d be damned if you let it hurt you again.

By the second month, you were able to maneuver through life without falling apart at the reminder of Hobie. Your walls had a shaky foundation, so you barred yourself from drinking, knowing how messy you would become. The liquor would burn your throat then remind you of cool nights where confessions left your tongue and you received gentle kisses in return.

You couldn’t handle that.

By the fourth month, your foundation was solid enough to recall your breakup without ruining your entire day. Instead, it would sit uncomfortably with you for a few hours until you finally pulled yourself free from the darkness that stuck to you. Then, with a deep breath, you could return to your life.

Love still hurt, but you could find a way to live with it again.

By the sixth month, your walls offered you a shield that you desperately needed, surrounding you on all sides and standing tall. You were able to visit places that you knew had a tiny possibility of Hobie appearing. It didn’t mean that your carefully trained eyes wouldn’t be apprehensively scrutinizing every person who entered your vicinity. You were well within your rights to do so.

Six months and thirteen days had passed since your breakup. The cloud that followed your every move had dissipated and you could see things clearly again. You allowed yourself to breathe for once, inviting the fresh air to enter your healed lungs. You allowed yourself to have fun.

Love still hurt, but at some point, you had to let your walls do their job and protect you.

Your best friend mentioned a house party that a friend of a friend would be having for their 21st birthday, which meant there would be more alcohol than you could ever dream of and maybe a chance to find someone new. The last part had made your lips curl in disgust, making your friend laugh out loud.

It didn’t take much to convince you to go, it would be the perfect opportunity to lift that bar you had placed on drinking and just let loose.

You had dressed nice and in something that fit your curves just right and always made people look your way, then waited for your designated driver.

When they arrived, you greeted your best friend’s friend then searched the packed car for said best friend. You slid into the backseat, sitting beside a girl you’d never seen before and tapped the driver.

“Hey, where’s…” you trailed off as the driver formed an ‘o’ with her mouth.

“That’s riiight, she wanted me to apologize for her since something came up last minute.”

You blinked owlishly. “What—”

“She flaked, friend, but don’t worry we’ll have fun without her. Ain’t that right!” She shouted and a chorus of cheers and whoops filled your ears.

You sunk into your seat and tried to convince yourself that it’d be fine. You’d be having fun. You were going to have fun.

That was the mantra you repeated to yourself until the car pulled up to the building that held the party. Before you stepped out, the driver made sure to let you guys know to keep your purses and bags in the car and under the seat.

“If ya’ll are gon’ get fucked up tonight, you’re better off leavin’ your shit in here. I don’t have time to be searchin’ that damn condo for your bags.” She had pointed her finger at each of you to emphasize her point.

You were incredibly reluctant to leave your bag, but she had a valid point. You did as you were told and before you knew it, you were taking shots with the birthday boy. You two would throw the liquor back and restrain yourselves from making faces.

The music was deafening and you were sure the amount of people in the condo was a fire hazard, either way, you were having fun. You danced with some of the people you carpooled with, you made new friends, and most importantly, you had fun.

But that was at the beginning.

Your first sign to go was when the birthday boy passed out on the sofa while more people entered the front door. That told you that the party would keep going with or without him, and you didn’t know how you felt about that.

Your biggest sign to go was when the very people who showed up late wanted to keep the party going. They poured alcohol into your cup when it was running low, they dared you to take more shots, and you kept accepting.

You kept accepting until you couldn’t stand up straight and things were passing in blurs. Then, the regret set in.

You shouldn’t have come here.

There were too many people and you were sure your driver fucking left you. You didn’t recognize the faces that surrounded you— hell, the birthday boy was nowhere to be found. You could feel your anxiety threaten to show itself, but you refused it.

Instead, you drank more. You threw back shot glass after shot glass hoping to drown your unpleasant emotions, but caused the opposite effect. The liquor only sank and allowed your burrowed feelings to float to the fucking top.

Shit.

You didn’t want to deal with the emotions that bobbed in your face— the anxiety that laughed in your face for trying to drown it. And standing on trembling legs in the middle of this fucking party only added to your sudden helplessness. You had blown past your limit a long time ago and it felt like you were beginning to tear at the seams from just too much— too much. Why were you so irresponsible?

Bodies knocked into you, throwing you into a daze and making your stomach churn and gurgle.

You weren’t having fun anymore. You weren’t having fun.

You only managed to stay upright from sheer determination alone, because you knew if you toppled over in front of all these people, you would be inconsolable.

God, usually you were much better at handling your alcohol intake, but you’d fucked up. Why had your driver left you? Why had your best friend left you alone? Why had Hobie—

Oh.

Oh no no no.

You tried your best to screw that jar shut, but it cracked and shattered in your hands. That mess of emotions spilled all of its unwanted contents everywhere. Your heart rattled behind your ribs and screamed at you. Your thoughts were incoherent as a dangerous flush went to your face. Your ears burned, your cheeks burned, and your vision began to blur.

You wanted to go home.

Someone pushed past you, making you stumble, but all you could think about was how you kept getting abandoned. You let yourself be vulnerable, even just a little, and got abandoned. Your hands shook violently as you tried to silence your spiraling mind. Your stomach begged you to stop moving as it worked overtime to deal with the alcohol and the sudden rise in anxiety.

You wanted to go home.

You wanted Hobie— but he left you.

Someone else brushed against you, muttering apologies. Your breathing was rugged and your lungs suddenly couldn’t get enough air. Your world was tilting and your eyes were wide with unshed tears.

You could feel that double-edged sword lodged in your heart and you knew it was bleeding again. You feared that it wouldn’t stop this time. You feared that you wouldn’t come back from this.

You just wanted to go home.

Someone knocked into you and you let out a cry as you fell into another person. You grabbed onto their arms as they caught you. You were sick of the touching, you were sick of the anxiety and liquor that made your stomach upset, you were—

“Duck?”

For once, your thoughts went silent. For fucking once, everything just seemed to stop. Your wide, glassy eyes slowly trailed up this oh so familiar torso until they stopped at a pair of eyes you wished you could unsee. You…

You were going to be sick.

“Oi, duck, are you—”

All at once, your insides rebelled against you. You couldn’t stop the alcohol from leaving your stomach and landing on Hobie. He couldn’t do anything but stare at you in complete and utter shock as your rejected alcohol trailed down his pant leg.

Humiliation flooded your entire body and you burst at the seams. Tears rained from your eyes and you began to sob. You tried to speak but it was all too much. Through strained vision, you could see concern wash over Hobie’s face and before you knew it, you were being led to the nearest bathroom.

Hobie barely flicked the light on before you were rushing to the toilet and puking again. Your face was drenched in a continuous flow of tears and you were sure you looked fucking pathetic. The thought only made you cry harder until your body shuddered and you dry heaved again.

You heard the door shut and when you looked up, Hobie was staring at you with those damn eyes of his. His eyebrows were furrowed and he appeared as if he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Your gaze landed on the wet stain on his pant leg.

“‘M sorry,” you said with a shaky breath. Hobie was quick to reassure you.

“‘Low it, duck. S’fine, I swear it.”

Fuck, you hated hearing his voice again. You hated it. You hated how each word knocked down your walls— shattered your protection. You hated how it made you so weak in the knees that you had to kneel in front of the toilet.

You hated throwing up.

Your body heaved again and there was a comforting hand on your shoulder. Before you could even think about reveling in the touch, you pushed it away.

“Don’t,” you spat. You couldn’t handle it.

Hobie raised his hands to show that he would stay hands off. You felt the sword dig deeper into your chest.

“Ya here alone?” he asked you, moving to be level with you. He leaned himself against the sink cabinet as he sat down. You hated him for it.

“‘M not s’pposed to be,” you muttered. “Got left.” Like he had left you. You could feel the tears pooling in your eyes, threatening to spill. “I wanna go home but I left my keys in her car— why’d she leave me?” Why’d he leave you, too?

“She left ya by yourself?” he said slowly. He sounded incredulous which, almost several months ago, would’ve warmed your heart but you could only hum in response.

You released a heavy sigh and reached forward to flush the toilet. The sound of flushing filled the bathroom as you attempted to rack your inebriated mind for a solution to your problem.

You weren’t too keen on being sick and stuck at this never-ending party. You slowly tilted your head to look at Hobie, who seemed to be contemplating something while he stared at where the floor connected to the wall. His legs were bunched up due to the small size of the bathroom and he absentmindedly picked at his nail polish.

You couldn’t begin to know where his mind was at, but you missed him. You should’ve hated him for it, but you missed him.

His presence alone made you dodge the full brunt of your panic attack, even though he left you. You missed him so badly that it hurt.

Your eyes snapped back to Hobie’s face when he suddenly took in a deep breath. He turned to face you, then paused. You don’t know what he saw in your expression, but it brought out a grief in his eyes you hadn’t expected. It made him look away to collect himself before he said, “Look, ion really like the idea of leavin’ ya here alone so,” he trailed off then made himself meet your gaze. “My boat’s a few blocks down the way. You can get ya bearin’s there, sleep, or whateva ya wanna do. Whateva you’re comfortable wit’.”

You should’ve told him no. You should’ve laughed in his face and been spiteful. You should’ve, but—

Love was a four letter word and, unfortunately, Hobie was still one of your definitions.

The universe had a funny way of testing you, of being cruel to you. In some inexplicable domino effect, you agreeing to a house party after six and a half months of grieving a relationship led you here, following Hobie to his boat.

The two of you walked out of sync with each other, mostly because of your pettiness. You did your best to linger a bit behind him, not daring to enter that space beside him even if his pace was slow enough for you to catch up. That space no longer belonged to you, no matter how much you wanted it to.

On the other hand, you couldn’t exactly walk straight and you’d be damned if you were to somehow bump into Hobie.

You could tell he wanted to offer his help, but he had been told to keep his hands off and that’s exactly what he was doing.

One unstable foot after another, you made it work, even if drowsiness fought against you. It ebbed at the edges of your vision and weighed your legs down. Hobie peeked at you over his shoulder. “Y’sure ya don’ need any help?”

You leveled a glare at him. “‘M fine,” you snapped. But because karma was an asshole, you tripped and would’ve busted your ass if it weren’t for Hobie’s reflexes. You held onto his arms as he stabled you. At the same time, you tried to make the world stop spinning through pure will alone.

You brought your hand up to your head, silently hoping you wouldn’t need to throw up again. “Fuck— okay, um.” You were completely out of breath as you waited for your words to unscramble themselves. You squeezed Hobie’s arm. “Jus’ gonna… hang on here.”

You were glad that he didn’t laugh at your sudden change of heart, instead he nodded his head and waited for the okay to keep moving.

You should’ve hated how patient he was with you. You shouldn’t have agreed to this— but was there really any other option?

You gave the okay and the two of you walked together. If it weren’t for the way your exhausted mind slowly gave into drowsiness, you would’ve at least attempted to stay away from the space beside Hobie. You couldn’t help it.

You missed him.

You didn’t know how long it took for you to reach the dock, but you were sure it took a whole hell of a lot longer because your legs were untrustworthy. By the time you got inside of the boat, you were beelining for the bathroom again.

You were so tired, man. And you wished your stomach would catch a fucking hint. You had nothing left to give.

Hobie had disappeared somewhere you didn’t know, you couldn’t exactly hear anything over your dry heaving. Though, it didn’t take long for him to pop up in the doorway with a shirt and a pair of shorts in his hands.

You spat into the toilet and flushed it, hoping that this would be the last of your fit.

“Ya still have some clothes here— I’ll leave ‘em here.” He placed them on the counter while you stared at him.

“Figured you would’ve tossed ‘em by now, Hobie.”

“Thought you woulda come for ‘em.”

You didn’t mean to laugh out loud, the sharp sound cutting through the bathroom, but imagining yourself going out of your way to see him again— there was no chance. “I couldn’t handle the thought of seeing your face again.” You paused, dragging a hand down your face. “Still can’t.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Fair.”

You hated how he looked at you with a muted shame. He had brought this upon himself— upon you both. You bit the inside of your cheek.

“... you haven’t come for your things either.” You knew that by heart, especially knowing exactly where that box of his belongings sat in your closet. Waiting.

“You haven’t put ‘em in the rubbish yet?”

You didn’t say anything. There had been a reason for your madness— the main thing stopping you from doing so. You didn’t like acknowledging it and your best friend hated hearing it. It made you feel pathetic.

It wasn’t fun admitting that you were holding out hope for his return, like you were some sad puppy that was abandoned at a park.

In your silence, Hobie answered your initial question quietly. “Honestly, I didn’ think you’d wanna see my face.” And he’d been correct.

You didn’t think you could handle the rest of this conversation without bursting into tears. “I’m gonna get changed now.”

He perked up, suddenly remembering his point of coming to the bathroom in the first place. “Righ’, righ’. I’ll be out here.”

When he closed the door, it felt like you could finally breathe again. You put on the pajamas and did your best not to topple over in the process. Then, you reached under his sink and rinsed out your mouth with his mouthwash.

Inevitably, there was one last problem.

“You’re not gonna fit on the fucking couch, Hobie.”

“Then I’ll sleep on the floor.”

You barely withheld your eye roll, because knowing you, the moment your eyes disappeared behind your eyelids, they wouldn’t return. “I can sleep on the couch—”

“No.”

This fucking— “Well you’re not sleeping on the couch or the fucking floor.”

“Neither are you.”

Your mind was not happy with either you or Hobie. You wanted to sleep. You needed to sleep. And your back and forth was preventing that. “Then we’re sharing the goddamn bed.” You shouldn’t have even suggested it, but if it meant that you could pass the hell out, then by all means.

That was a problem for a future you.

The suggestion didn’t win without a fight because, unfortunately, that’s just who you two were. You wanted to sleep, Hobie didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, you didn’t want him on the couch or the floor— back and forth until you two finally met in the middle.

You would share a bed but have two separate blankets. And that’s how that went as you two had your backs facing each other. You didn’t allow yourself to think or to revel in how much you missed sharing a space with Hobie.

You let your mind drift until you fell asleep.

At some point, you let go of sleep and cracked open an eye. The sun was not yet up and the room was still dark. It reminded you of nights that held whispered I love you’s until they disappeared into the quiet atmosphere. In that moment, Hobie’s resting face came into focus.

You didn’t realize just how close you and Hobie had shifted toward each other in your sleep. It was like a muscle memory that shouldn’t have belonged to you anymore, but it still prevailed.

Your faces were inches from each other, sharing the same air, and you could feel his breath ghost over your face. You should’ve had a larger reaction to it than you did, but your drunken mind and exhausted body let the familiar comfort lull you back to sleep.

Love was a four letter word and it was unyielding. Even after refusing to learn any more definitions for it, it refused to give up.

Love was unreasonable.

Love was inexplicable.

Love was unyielding.

But it still hurt.

You were reminded of that whenever the blade in your heart sank deeper. You were reminded of that when you woke up the next morning to an empty bed.

It took you a moment to register exactly where the hell you were, yet it was overshadowed by the fact that your head was threatening to split open. You hissed and shut your eyes.

Fuck fuck fuck— what did you drink last night?

You flipped on your back to think, though you wished the boat would stop rocking for a moment— oh what the fuck.

No.

There was no way.

You opened your eyes in a panic and as much as your body hated you for it, you sat up. Your eyes roamed around the familiar room as memories of last night flooded your mind. Disbelief clawed at your chest as you racked the memories for a reason why you would agree to come back here.

You tossed the blanket aside and your eyes landed on the nightstand. There, a bottle of water and two pills waited for you.

Oh god.

You slapped a hand over your mouth as tears threatened to burn at your eyes. It didn’t help that you realized that all of the curtains were purposely shut to keep the room dim. Your hands moved over your eyes, knowing that if you cried now, your headache would be worse.

Regardless, you took the pills and chugged the water. The quicker you were out of here, the better it would be.

You found your clothes from the night before and slid them back on. Your body ached and your head pounded, but you needed to go.

You searched the floor for your shoes but you knew for a fact that they were by the front. Immediately, you reached for the door but stopped short. You knew Hobie was out there, if the soft strums of his guitar were anything to go off of.

You dragged a hand down your face and mentally prepared yourself. Hobie had already wrecked the protection you had surrounding your heart and you knew you were completely and utterly weak when it came to him.

You put your hand on the handle and twisted it. The subtle light change made you hiss which made the guitar notes stop.

Making eye contact with Hobie was as difficult as you knew it would be. You turned away and searched the ground for your shoes.

“How ya feelin’?”

God, he needed to stop talking. You were weak. You couldn’t do this.

“Like shit. Have you seen my shoes?” You weren’t prepared to have him stand up and walk over to you with the shoes in hand. Without looking at him, you muttered your thanks and took them from him. You put them on with shaky hands.

“Duck—”

“Please, don’t call me that right now.”

“Sorry, (Y/N).” Somehow that was even worse. “You headed to ya friend’s?”

“Yeah. Gonna tear her a new one for flaking and for recommending her stupid friend.” With your shoes on, you stood to your full height and tried to reason with your racing heart. You felt like a frantic mess and with Hobie standing so close to you, you couldn’t even begin to repair your broken walls. “Thanks for letting me stay and for the painkillers. I’m gonna go.”

You thought you could keep it curt and maybe get out of this with just a little bit of dignity, but you went and looked Hobie in his eyes.

Those honey-colored eyes of his had a way of keeping you stuck. You hated that he didn’t stop you from stepping around him, how he silently agreed to your departure. Yet, it was his fault that your hand stopped on the doorknob. It was his fault that you stopped and turned around to face him again.

You two stood there, staring into each other’s souls, the very souls that bled for each other. You hated that as frantic as he made you, you still wanted to be near him, to be with him. You turned away and turned the knob.

Then, there was a hand grabbing yours and your resolve crumbled. You turned back around with watery eyes and you hated seeing the regret written all over Hobie’s face. You couldn’t stand looking at it, so you moved your attention to his hold on your hand.

You had half a mind to pull away.

“‘M sorry for leavin’ ya like I did. I truly am.”

You were quiet for a moment. “But you’re not sorry for leavin’, are you?” you whispered. You wished you could’ve had some bite behind your words, but you didn’t. Hobie’s brows only furrowed further and you slid your hand out of his grasp, bringing it close to your heart. You inhaled deeply. “You’re not selfish enough, Hobie.”

Love was a four letter word and it was many things.

Love was demanding.

Love was hypocritical.

Love was unreasonable— unyielding.

Love was unpredictable.

But you needed it to be selfish for once.

You needed Hobie to be selfish for once, because it was tearing you apart. He wouldn’t ask you to stay, even if you loved each other from the bottom of your hearts to the depths of your souls. You wanted him to beg you to stay, but you knew he wouldn't.

“You already know how I feel about you, but you still—” You choked up on the word. “... is keeping me safe worth keeping us miserable?”

You didn’t wait for an answer, instead you opened the door and left. With each step, you repaired your walls one brick at a time, because even with all the things love could do and had the potential to be…

… love still hurt.

divider by cafekitsune :3

had to cut this bad boy in half so the comfort isn't here JUST yet. thanks for all of your comments/reblogs you guys are hilarious <333

taglist: @hoe-bie @hao-ming-8 @anonoussy @amianelf-main @muffinlovesfiction

#hobie brown x black!reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #atsv #across the spiderverse #spider punk #writing #spider punk x reader

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