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underdark-dreams · 4 months

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This fic will explore the fanon of Tiefling rut/heat cycles: specifically, what happens when a stressed, overworked, sexually pent-up wizard is confronted with his own biology and his feelings about a certain hero all at once?

Thank you @rolansrighthorn for kindly beta reading this chapter!

Rolan x afab!Tav

Birds and Bees - Ch.1

The new Master of Ramazith's Tower hasn't been feeling well. Rolan isn't quite sure what's wrong with himself, but when Tav arrives back in Baldur's Gate, things get much worse.

Tags: Tiefling Ruts, Sexual Tension, Mutual Pining | Word Count: 3.4k [Read on AO3]

Rolan awoke feeling sick as a dog.

He pulled his legs over the edge of the mattress with a wince. The dull ache in his muscles was something he hadn't felt since those first weeks on the road out of Elturel.

He'd slept like hells the past few days; no doubt that was the cause. Once again, bizarre nightmares had left him gasping awake before dawn, covered in a clammy sheen of perspiration.

The dreams featuring Tav, however…

Rolan’s tail shuddered and flicked over the bedsheets behind him at the memory. He pushed those thoughts forcefully from his head. Tav was due back in Baldur’s Gate today—that was the last thing he should be thinking of when she arrived at Sorcerous Sundries.

She’d been away for over a week this time, gathering her materials in the Underdark. He wondered if that meant she'd have enough work to keep her in the city for longer, too. The thought encouraged him enough to rise and dress for the day. He should make sure her alchemy station was prepped and ready for her at the back of the shop, at least.

Down on the main floor of Sorcerous Sundries, Rolan’s improved mood was instantly tested. Cal took in his face wide-eyed.

“You look awful.”

“And good morning to you,” Rolan responded irritably.

“Is it?” Cal trailed after him as he unlocked and threw open the wide front doors. “Rolan, maybe you need a day off. You look like you barely slept.”

“I'm fine,” Rolan said, voice firm. “Where’s Lia?”

Right as the words left him, a teacup appeared at his elbow.

“Had a feeling you might need it,” Lia told him. “Looks like I was right.”

Too tired to combat both his siblings at once this early in the day, Rolan accepted the tea with a begrudging sigh of thanks. The smell of bitter herbs hit his nose before he took the first sip.

“Doctoring me with folk remedies now?”

Lia waved a dismissive hand as she moved behind the counter. “Yeah, yeah, we all know you'd rather get fussed over by Tav. Can't have you dragging your tail and embarrassing us in front of her, though.”

Cal walked off with a snort.

Rolan shut his eyes and wished he could return straight back to bed. Instead, he drank his tea down in silence and said a prayer for an easy day of work.

He did find himself perking up after a while. It was difficult to stay sullen on such a glorious spring day; clear sunlight streamed generously through the high windows above, and the flow of customers milling into the shop settled into a pleasant, familiar hum. Rolan fell into the rhythm of assisting them here and there, locating scrolls and giving advice on spellwork.

It certainly wasn’t the prospect of seeing Tav again that was improving his mood so much. That’s what Rolan kept telling himself, at least.

Another breeze drifted in through the open atrium behind him, bringing with it the fresh scent of spring wildflowers. Rolan was taken with a sudden fancy to move closer to wherever it emanated from.

“Lovely morning, isn't it?”

Tav stood beaming at him from the doorway, despite the full-to-bursting pack slung over one of her shoulders. Clearly he wasn’t the only one affected by the irresistibly nice weather.

“It rather is,” Rolan agreed. Ignoring her usual protests, he unshouldered the bag from her with a tug; its weight made him question whether she’d stuffed it entirely with minerals.

“Ugh…thanks.” Tav stretched her arms back appreciatively. She was wearing a lightweight tunic, carelessly laced, and the motion strained the fabric over her chest.

Rolan averted his gaze, feeling rather warm all of a sudden. He instead led Tav back to her workstation near the stairs.

“Looks busy in here,” she remarked with approval. “Business good?”

“Can’t complain. I take it your travels were as successful?” He punctuated the comment by landing her pack on the desk with a heavy thump. Tav laughed.

“Brilliant, actually. I've got a lot to show you, if you can spare the time.”

“Just give me a few minutes,” he answered, turning back to her.

Tav didn’t reply right away; she was frowning at his face. “Rolan, are you ill? You look flushed—” And she reached a hand as if to feel his forehead.

“Of course not,” Rolan answered, a bit too swiftly. Casting for an excuse to create some distance, he moved to the nearby reference shelves and began shoving the mess of books back into their correct cubbies. “Cal, could you grab another stack of the beginner’s Weave series? We’ve sold through.”

Cal looked up from his work rolling scroll pages. “Er, sure…which wing is that again?”

“Nevermind,” Rolan sighed. “I’ll get them myself. Let me know if your station’s missing any supplies,” he added to Tav, letting his voice soften a bit. It earned him a dimpling smile.

Rolan strode away from her toward the portal, feeling that annoying ache in his legs return as he did.

—

Tav watched Rolan’s figure trudge up the staircase with another twinge of concern. Then she set to work connecting all the equipment on her alchemy station. Lia appeared at her side before long, asking after her week’s travels in the Underdark and catching her up on news and gossip from the Gate. It was so nice to have friends like Lia; ones you could pick up right where you left off with.

Tav had emptied her bag onto her desk and begun sorting the small mountain of herbs into separate piles as she listened. “How’s Rolan been doing with everything, really?”

Lia was turning over one of her shards of laculite, idly catching the sunlight in its facets. “Mostly happy. And stressed, and overextended. And completely neurotic about organizing every shelf in the library. You know, typical wizard stuff.”

“I just hope he’s looking after himself,” she said down to her work. The words left her mouth easier than she wished.

Lia leaned a hip against her desk with arms crossed. “You sound interested in helping with that.”

The quake in Tav’s stomach made her feel very caught out, then very stupid. She let out an exhale of laughter instead.

“Rolan’s made it pretty clear that he is not,” she replied. Her fingers began stripping the blooms from her pile of dried mugwort with more force than strictly necessary.

“Between you and me,” Lia mused, “I don’t think Rolan’s anywhere near clear on that subject. Smart people can be real idiots, you know.”

“Who can?”

Rolan was headed from the staircase with an armful of books; he stood behind Lia with a suspicious look. Tav immediately wondered how much he’d heard.

“Rich people,” Lia answered at once, still leaning casually against Tav’s desk. “Lady Whitburn’s handmaid keeps coming in asking for spell scrolls that I’m pretty sure don’t exist. You think she’d get the picture by now.”

Rolan let out a long-suffering sigh and held out the stack of volumes to her. “Take these. And just send Cal to help her next time, that’s why she keeps coming back.”

Lia threw up a hand as if that only proved her point. “Like I said, idiots.” But with one last glance at Tav, she grabbed the books and ferried them away to the front of Sorcerous Sundries.

For her part, Tav resumed the work of preparing the week’s ingredients—there were several large batches of antidote to get through this morning. Rolan took up his usual spot at the desk in her periphery.

Ever since the first week he’d offered Sorcerous Sundries to her as a home of operations for her alchemy, Tav found herself spending many hours at work beside Rolan like this. They spent the time talking about her travels, or his latest studies with the Weave, or just discussing the last books they’d read. On busier days, he was called away to help customers for most of her visit.

Today, however, Rolan stood unusually silent next to her.

“Sure you’re feeling all right?” She glanced at his back, again noting the tense line of his shoulders.

“Just a bit tired.” Rolan tipped open his massive record of the shop figures. “Haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I could make you something for that, if you like.”

He gave a low huff of laughter as he took up his quill. “From what I hear from my customers, I’d be out cold for days.”

“Really?” She couldn’t help a grin of professional pride, but focused on adjusting the flame under her distilling glass. “Glad they’re selling well.”

“I can barely keep them on the shelves, especially those remedial draughts you make. The last batch lasted three days.”

Though it was satisfying to hear, Tav felt a bit chagrined. “Damn…won’t have more of those for a while. I still need to track down a new materials trader in the Gate. My usual guy moved on to Neverwinter.”

There was a short pause in their little corner, filled only with the sounds of softly bubbling liquid against glass.

“You know,” Rolan said without turning, “you’re welcome to stay here, if it’s easier for you. The guest room’s always empty. That is, so you wouldn’t have to travel across the city on top of finding your new contact.”

“Oh—” Tav tried hard not to read anything into his offer. “Actually, I already left my things with Danis and Bex. But thank you, Rolan,” she added.

Rolan coughed lightly, back still turned. “Of course.”

There was another pause, longer and strangely awkward. Tav suddenly found she needed something more to occupy her thoughts than watching a flask boil. Reaching down for her pack, she pulled her research journal up to the desk.

It had been many weeks since Rolan brought up that subject. Why now?

Cal and Lia constantly reminded her of the long-standing offer of a room in the Tower anytime she had need of it. For unspoken reasons, she’d always found polite ways of declining.

It wasn’t that Rolan had made her feel unwelcome in any way. After all, he’d opened up the expansive resources of Ramazith’s Tower to her use, lending her all of the delicate and expensive alchemy equipment that she’d never be able to cart back and forth in her travels. She owed much of her current success to his generosity.

But Rolan had proven himself a generous patron for all kinds of arcane arts as Master of Ramazith’s Tower. Really, what made her think she was any kind of special case?

The fact that she’d very much like to be that to him…well.

That was something Tav tried not to think about. It only led her to dangerous territory, such as staring at his hands while he worked a spell and wondering what else they might be good for. Hardly conducive to a friendly, professional relationship.

And if she was any good at reading signals, friendly but professional was how Rolan wanted to keep things.

Tav shuffled through her notes a bit too briskly and almost scattered them. That was enough dwelling on that subject; clearly, Rolan had plenty to think about without worrying about unwanted advances in his own home. The least she could do to repay his generosity would be to continue respecting his boundaries.

“Noblestalk propagation?”

She glanced over her shoulder. To her surprise, Rolan had moved closer to peer down at the top page in her hands with curiosity.

“Most valuable thing in the Underdark,” she told him. “Even more than mithril. Actually, this is what I wanted to show you—”

Noblestalk fetched a high price for its alchemical power, certainly, but also for its rarity. The delicate mushrooms were notoriously picky about where they grew; it was part of what made them so hard to find.

Truth be told, she’d been running a little experiment on them down in the Underdark over the past few months. She ran a finger across the charted results as she explained them to Rolan, whose tension seemed to vanish as he listened on with keen interest.

“Obviously the spores took faster in high humidity. But look, they actually did better when I transplanted them in a really cold spot near the river here—which is so odd, most fungi need a bit of warmth—

“Have you tried recreating these artificially? Carrying a sample back to the surface?”

“Not yet.” She scratched her chin in thought. “I’d need to find somewhere underground to propagate it. And I’d rather not spend any more time in the sewers, after that little cult business.”

“Just do it here,” Rolan dismissed, as if it was the plainly obvious solution. “We’ve got quite a few empty vaults now. Shouldn’t be too hard to repurpose one as a greenhouse of sorts.”

As she turned her head to respond, she was caught up short.

Rolan was still peering intently at her writing. But in his concentration, he’d angled his body very close beside her. His chest nearly brushed her shoulder. She could’ve counted the freckles dusting his nose.

When he reached forward to flip over the page, she felt his other hand actually rest on the far side of her waist—the absent way you might touch someone very familiar to you when moving past them. Heat rose in her cheeks at the gesture.

Perhaps Rolan felt her tense. He blinked, and she watched realization dart over his features. He stepped back at once.

“Apologies.” Then he cleared his throat to add—“Your work is quite engaging.”

Coming from him, the words sounded much nicer than they had a right to. She felt her flush deepening, and quickly turned back to reorder her notes.

“Thanks,” she laughed, praying it didn’t sound as awkward as it felt rising in her throat.

Behind her back, she heard Rolan return to his desk on her left. Presumably continuing his work on the Sundries inventory; more likely trying to ignore her obvious fluster.

She clenched her jaw in an attempt to shove that same stupid, fluttery feeling out of her stomach, and returned to the practical work at hand.

—

Rolan stared down at last week’s sales in his ledger. The figures were a blur of meaningless scribbles in front of his eyes.

Was he feverish? Seriously ill? There had to be a sound explanation for the way he’d just…laid hands on her like that, unthinking.

He clenched the guilty right hand responsible, feeling its sharp nails press crescent moons into his palm. Idiot. He took a deep breath to regain his composure.

It only caused that lovely wildflower scent from before to fill his lungs more completely, pulling at his other senses. Perhaps it was emanating from one of the many strange ingredients Tav was always carrying back from the Underdark. Was that what had muddled his mind this way?

He found himself glancing back over his shoulder to where she was bent over her alchemy scales. The pink tip of her tongue was visible between her teeth, a gesture she often made when concentrating.

As Rolan watched, a lock of her hair slipped forward over her shoulder. She swept it absently back behind her ear. The innocuous motion caused another wave of something floral to brush past his face, stronger this time.

“Are you wearing scent?”

Tav glanced up from the powder she was weighing out, brows raised in question. “What?”

“Nothing,” Rolan said swiftly, shaking himself back to rights a bit. He felt very lucky she seemed to have misheard. He turned back to his work before he could say anything else strange or embarrassing.

With effort, Rolan forced his attention back to the comforting logic of sums and figures.

The time passed with blessed uneventfulness after that. The soft sounds of glassware and bubbling liquids from Tav’s alchemy faded to an idle lull at the back of Rolan’s consciousness. Nevertheless, he pushed through the past month’s numbers with more difficulty than usual, scratching through multiple errors as his quill moved over the page. He occasionally had to pause to rub at an uncomfortable crick building in his neck.

A laugh came from behind him. “Do you mind?”

Rolan raised his head to look. Tav was gesturing at the corner of her alchemy station with a bemused expression.

To his own confusion, he found that his tail had traveled there of its own accord sometime in the past minutes. It lay coiled on the wood, its tip flicking back and forth in her direction, as if seeking her attention.

With another chuckle, Tav’s fingers closed around it and lightly dropped the appendage off the edge of her desk.

An involuntary sound caught in Rolan’s throat. The moment her hand connected with his skin, a shock of blood rushed to his groin. He nearly tipped forward in alarm at the feeling.

The rapid redirection left his legs wobbling and bloodless. His knees almost buckled under him; he gripped sharp claws into the edge of his wooden desk to steady himself.

As the ringing in his ears cleared, he heard Tav reading under her breath behind him while she ground something against her mortar. Praise the gods that whatever just happened to his body had escaped her notice.

“Need a book from the library—”

Without a backward glance, Rolan stumbled toward the stairs.

Spurred on by the knowledge that any customers who might notice his urgent departure would certainly see the reason for it, he strode on double-time for the portal. Only once the swirl of Weave closed behind him, depositing him in the quiet of the Tower, did he release the breath caught up in his lungs.

Seeking to ground himself, Rolan glanced up to watch the golden dust motes drift through a beam of sunlight. It was the strangest sensation to be standing completely still and feel a sweat break out over his brow.

How did he not realize days ago? Muscle aches—difficulty sleeping—heightened senses. All clear indicators that his biology had finally caught up with him, albeit a solid year later than it should have.

Rolan gripped a hand to the back of his head with a groan of realization. Not perfume—it had been Tav herself he kept catching scent of this morning. That sweet smell that practically made his mouth water to recall now was nothing but raw instinct laid bare.

Well, he had no right to complain about the timing. Apparently many frantic months of escaping the Hells, surviving on the road, and battling back an invasion from the Astral Plane had done a lot to delay the inevitable.

But inevitable it was, and as of today, very much inescapable. There was never really a convenient time for this sort of thing, was there?

It could be worse—as the new keeper of Ramazith’s Tower, at least he found himself with private quarters to retreat to for the entirety of it. If he was lucky, it would all be over in a week, and then he could go on ignoring this unfortunate side effect of his Infernal heritage for a few more uneventful years.

Lia and Cal could manage the shop for a week without any major calamities, surely?

As Rolan paced the silk carpets of the Tower floor, he forced his feverish mind to finish scrabbling together the plan. His gaze fell on the desk by the window. In the next second, he was putting shaking quill to parchment. Something simple, just enough they’d understand—

Bad week for visitors. Please mind the Sundries while I recover. Tell Tav

The tip of his quill skipped as he paused, letting a droplet of ink bleed into the page.

Tell Tav what, exactly? That he was in his room rutting his brains out like an animal in heat? Likely thinking of her while he did?

That line of thought brought a series of unhelpful and very stimulating images to mind. He swallowed down a humiliating sound as the stiffness between his legs grew painfully hard in reaction. Merciful, bloody hells.

Tell Tav nothing, he finished in a scrawl. Rolan folded the note and deposited it on the floor just in front of the portal, where it would be impossible for his siblings to miss.

Then he turned for the staircase to his bedroom, already mad to rip these chafing gods-damned robes off his skin.

#spicy #rolan x tav #tiefling ruts #eventual smut #bg3 rolan #female tav #heat/rut cycles #rebgrrl writes #underdark-dreams #bg3 fanfiction #tiefling biology

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morlao · 5 months

Text

Sisterly advice

▪︎Luke Castellan x fem!reader

▪︎daughter of Aphrodite

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You and Luke have always been close. So close, in fact, that newcomers automatically assumed that you were dating. The surprised look on their faces when the older campers told them you weren´t, was according to your siblings hilarious.

It's evening and you're sitting on your bed, your legs crossed, while Silena is braiding your hair.

Of all your half-siblings she is your favourite one. Loving, gentle and kind. She is the perfect definition of a daughter of Aphrodite, as she embodies everything that comes to your mind when you think about love - and you want others to feel the same way. They should also think of her and not your other siblings with their childish plays and cruel rituals of breaking others hearts. Maybe they themselves don´t understand what it means being the child of love.

Silena´s fingers run gently through your hair, parting it and intertwining the individual strands together.

“So… what about Charlie?”

You don't have to see her face to know that a smile flashes across her lips at his name. “What about him?”

“Did he finally ask you out?”

She laughs, trying to pretend that she finds the idea absurd. “We are just friends.”

You turn around and give her a look that expresses your opinion about it all too clearly. Don´t try to fool me, darling. I see what´s going on between the two of you!

Again, Silena laughs, gently turning your head forward again to finish the braid. “Okay, other topic. What about you and Luke?”

You copy her laugh. “What about us? We´re just friends.”

You could feel her rising her eyebrows. “Let me give you some sisterly advice: Just friends don´t look at each other like that.”

“Who did you quote? That sentence is so cliché!”

She laughs, taking a hair tie from your bedside table and wrapping it around your braid. “Well… maybe it is but it totally fits you and Luke.”

You turn around, giving her a skeptical look.

Silena shrugs and sits down beside you. “I mean… have you seen his smile when he looks at you? Also he constantly finds excuses to touch you. He improves your posture in archery, even though you are at least as good at it as he is. And – “ she looks at you triumphantly, “He gives you a kiss on the cheek every time he greets you or says goodbye.”

You feel your cheeks flush and cross your arms, trying to think of a counter argument. “A lot of people do that.”

“Yeah, but you´re the only one where Luke does that. Haven´t you noticed?”

To be honest: no, you haven´t. But now as you think about it in detail... it is true. When Luke greets one of the other girls, he just smiles at them.

“In addition, he immediately drops everything when he sees you”, Silena adds, “Yesterday he left in the middle of training because he saw you walking by and wanted to talk to you. Or on Friday, he was in the middle of a conversation with Chris and you waved at him. And what did he do? Exactly, he immediately jogged over. Also last week…”

“Enough!” You laugh, trying to make her shut up by covering her mouth.

Silena dodges you, laughing as you reach into the void. "He let you draw hearts on his sneakers! He watches the sunset with you! He bought you a bracelet for your birthday! You know, I could go on with this for hours." She steps closer, cupping your cheeks with her hands. “Believe me, sis: He´s in love with you!” Her voice is melodic, angel like even. Loving, gentle and kind.

You feel the heat rising to your cheeks and embarrassed you pulls away and cover your face with your hands. “I´m pretty sure he isn´t! You´re overinterpreting!”

“Nope, I´m a daughter of Aphrodite, I can feel it!”

“So am I! And I don't feel anything!”

Silena grabs her cherry lipstick. “Your reaction makes me think that you like him too!”

Did you like him? You weren´t sure. Of course he meant the world to you, but did you like him more as than a friend? Wouldn´t that be weird kissing him since you know him for so long?

"I'm not sure", you finally manage to say, rolling off your bed and taking a look at the clock. Fortunately, you can at least put the topic off for today. "Oh, damn! Come on, we are already late!”

Silena grabs your hand and leads you outside of cabin 10. It´s already dark and in the distance you can see the flickering flames of the campfire. Most of the campers seem to have already gathered there, their drink in their hands and a smile on their lips as they talk to their siblings and friends.

“Finally!”, one of the Apollo girls greets you.

Chris Rodriguez grins. “Why are the Aphrodite girls always late?”

That is definitely not true! You're not always late. Just most of the times. God, you hate being a cliché.

Luke lifts his head as he hears his brother say “Aphrodite girls”. He spots you and his face lights up like a Christmas tree. Immediately he walks up to you and hugs you, his lips placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

From the corner of your eye you can see Silena rising an eyebrow, as if to say "Well, what did I say?"

“You look amazing”, Luke whispers in your ear, before breaking away from the hug and greeting Silena with a smile. “Charlie is already waiting for you!”, he grins, nodding towards said boy.

Silena giggles, before walking over to him. Gods, it was so obvious that she was head over heels for him.

Luke takes your hand and leads you over to his place next to Chris, where he had already a blanket spread out for the two of you. “Mylady” He pretends to bow.

You can feel your cheeks blush as you sit down. “Thank you so much, Mister!”

Gods, somehow Luke always manages to put a smile on your face. You sit down and stretch out your legs, feeling the comforting heat of the fire.

As Luke takes a seat next to you, you can feel him slide closer, his arm touching yours. Feeling him beside you was comforting, the closest feeling you had to "home".

Luke Castellan. You tilt your head back and look up at the stars as if you expect to see his name engraved up there. You have always liked his name. Luke Castellan. It feels like a secret incantation on your lips.

You can feel his eyes on you. The flickering flames make his face look almost golden. Golden boy. Why didn´t you notice before how handsome he is?

The next song starts and immediately everyone joins in. They lie in each other's arms and rock back and forth, bawling Country roads.

Well, maybe it was just because Silena had told you, but Luke really seems to find exuses for touching you. He leans against you, his arm around your shoulders - even after the song has already ended. You enjoy feeling him so close next to you. The heat he radiates. His soft skin against yours. The realization hits you straight in the face. You had fallen in love with your best friend.

He looks at you and you can't help but smile. Fascinating how beautiful an evening with a campfire could be. For a moment it feels like gods and monsters didn't exist. For a moment everything seems peaceful.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” You can feel Luke´s warm breath on your neck as he whispers in your ear.

Your heart skips a beat. Did he notice the way you looked at him? Did he suspect something? Was Silena wrong? “Sure!”

Your voice sounds more enthusiastic than you feel.

Luke takes your hand and leads you away from the campfire, away from the singing and the laughter of the others.

You look at him, smiling nervously. “Sooo… what is it? Or did you just want to escape singing Knocking on heavens door.”

He shakes his head, laughing. “No, why would I want to miss Drew´s wonderful voice?”

You cringe at the thought of your sister singing louder than everyone else – and on top of that terribly wrong. She doesn't hit a single note.

“No, actually… Y/N…” He runs a hand through his hair, trying to find the right words. “Gods, you´re so beautiful.”

It´s not the first time that somebody told you that. In fact, being a daughter of Aphrodite, you had heard it thousands of times already.

Still his words felt special to you. Special because he wasn´t just anybody. Ä

He was Luke. Your best friend Luke. Luke who was always there for you, who comforted you when you had trouble with your family, who managed to make you laugh when you lay in your bed crying your eyes out over something your stepmother had said. Luke who you trusted with all your heart.

“I wanted to ask you if you'd like to go on a picnic tomorrow?” He avoids looking at you.

Why is he so shy about going on a picnic? That's quite strange since you´d done this a few times before. You had even found your very own spot with a fantastic view over the sea. There was nothing more beautiful than watching sunsets while drinking juice and eating biscuits. So why does he seem so insecure?

Luke seems to notice your confusion. “I meant as a date”, he clarifies.

You raise your eyebrow, your heart racing. “Are you asking me out?”

“Yeah.”

For a moment you stood there, perplexed. Why was it so obvious to the others while you had no idea?

"So... what do you say?" Luke looks at you, biting his lip nervously. He seems to assume that you aren't answering because you're looking for a way to reject him as gently as possible.

Quickly you step forward, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Yes, I'd love to go on a date with you."

"Really?" Immediately he blushes deeply. That must have slipped out.

"Sure, why wouldn't I?" You giggle, taking his hand. "I've known you for years now. You're kind and brave and one of the most caring people I know."

A laugh escapes his lips. "Wow, if I had known that, I would have asked you way earlier." His hand slowly reaches for your cheek.

You hold your breath as he leans forward and places a soft kiss on your lips. It didn't feel weird at all. The opposite, actually. Seems like sometimes best friends can turn into lovers.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer. Soft kisses become more passionate. His hands run through your hair, slowly brushing loose strands out of your face.

When he pulls away a huge smile creeps across his lips. "I love you, Y/N"

You return his smile, taking his hand and intertwining your fingers. "I love you, too."

As you walk back to the campfire holding hands, Silena beams at you. "I told you, Y/N, friends don't look at each other like that."

You shake your head, laughing. "Your advice really is the best."

#percy jackson #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #daughter of aphrodite #silena beauregard

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darkstarerotica · 5 months

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Gracie’s The-Rapist

Gracie was like other women in their early twenties. She was depressed and anxious. Not all the time of course. But enough of the time. A friend had recommended a therapist for her. She claimed he had “fixed, I mean… helped me”. The word fixed hung in the air oddly but she didn’t pay much attention. Gracie made the appointment later that week. A couple of weeks later she sat in the doctors office. He was handsome, older, which made her a little uncomfortable at first as she was always attracted to older men. Especially intelligent men.

The first couple of sessions were pretty standard. Intake questions and talking about life and struggles. At the end of the third appointment the therapist mentioned that for the next session they were going to change gears a little but didn’t elaborate. She was intrigued but didn’t push things further.

At the next session he started by getting her to close her eyes and imagine different scenarios. She would then recount them to him. As the session went on he had her imagine more and more intimate scenarios. Finally he asked her about sexual fantasies. She giggled a little but was in such a suggestive state she started to share details about her fantasies. Being used by older men, consensual non consent, being choked and slapped by her partners. The last scenarios she could not believe she was sharing she told him how she had always wanted to be used publicly by anyone willing. Open for all that wanted her.

He brought her back around and instead of being uneasy with her openness she felt relieved. Her anxiety had dissipated and so had her sadness. She waited eagerly for the next appointment. When she sat down he congratulated her on her improvements. And said that they were going to move on to the next step in her therapy. This session they were going to use full hypnosis. “Are you ok with that?” he asked. She was not really even sure what that would entail, but she was so happy with how she had been feeling that she readily consented. He pulled a small pen light from his pocket and alternating her eyes had her count down from 20. Blackness. She woke some time later. Groggy She looked at the clock. Five minutes before the end of their session. She felt… odd. But really good. Relaxed. Strange. It was then that she realized she must have been aroused at some point. She could feel her panties wet between her legs. She squirmed a little. Hoping for a moment she hadn’t wet herself. She would have died from embarrassment. “No, I am just wet, soaking wet.”

The doctor concluded the session by telling her that some patients experience being aroused while they are under and she shouldn’t worry if she has had that happen. It is perfectly normal. She admitted to nothing but felt very relieved. “Whatever he did” she thought “it really worked. The week passed with her mood totally elevated. She was happy and glowing. All of the next month the sessions continued. Always with the same response. Without knowing why she started to want to wear different clothes to the sessions. Shorter skirts more revealing blouses. She wore more make up. Whatever she felt made her look the prettiest. She was feeling so good about herself she couldn’t help but want to.

This next session something odd happened. Well, rather it happened after. She had this vision come to mind. It was the night after a session she blinked her eyes as she saw herself in the office. She was on her knees the doctor standing before her. He had her head in his hands and He was slowing fucking her mouth with his hard cock. She instantly got aroused. She could feel her wetness. She kept the vision in her head and she started to touch herself. Moaning as he continued. He kept telling her “Gracie, yes, you are such a good girl. Good girls know how to suck cock and you are proving what a good girl you are” He continued in her minds eye till finally he released a big full load deep down her throat. She came instantly.

At the next session as they were about to start she told her therapist “I am so embarrassed but I have to tell you about this vision I had.” She recounted to him the story. Leaving out the pleasuring of herself. As he listened he moved about the room. Occasionally just nodding. A couple “I see” so that she knew he was listening. “Gracie?” “Yes” “Here stand and move to my desk, yes there, right in the middle” “Um ok” She hesitated but did as she was told. She was wearing a particularly short skirt this session. With a mesh top over her bra. She hadn’t even thought this might be inappropriate to wear to her doctors office.

He moved towards her. She thought to move away but she felt powerless. She stayed like a deer caught in the gaze of a lion. He positioned himself right in front of her. He grabbed her, his touch surprised her. “Wait, what are you doing?” she protested. “I am going to show you what a good girl you’ve become” At hearing those words she got wet immediately. All she could think about wanting him. “wait I’m confused” He responded with “here let me show you” He lifted up her skirt. Pulled her panties down in a swift motion and dove his fingers into her wet pussy. She moaned instinctively. He started to finger her with one then two fingers. She was confused but couldn’t break away. It felt amazing. “He pulled his fingers out and brought him to her lips “good girls get wet when they are told to, see what a good girl you are?” and at each mention she felt her pussy throb. He put his fingers in her mouth and she sucked on them eagerly. She licked them clean and he congratulated her again “There’s my good girl” and now she was beyond rabid. She wanted his cock inside her more that anything she had ever wanted “Please, please fuck me” she begged. He unzipped his pants and she immediately dropped to her knees. She eagerly placed him in her mouth, she didn’t even know she could give head like that. Her gag reflex was gone and he moaned as she soaked his hard cock in her spit. After a while he held her head steady, and started to use her mouth like a toy. The vision. This is what she saw. It came back to her and blended with the reality. She moaned, but still her gag reflex was completely gone. He pushed into her face harder and faster. Then he pulled out. Praised her again and brought her to her feet.

‘See what a good girl I have made you?” She moaned at the words. He flipped her around hands on his desk. He pushed up her skirt and easily slid his cock inside of her. She had never experienced anything like it. He fucked her deep and hard and she came readily and often. “Are you my good girl?” He asked her. An the words would make her cum again “Yes, yes, I am your good girl… please keep fucking me, please…” As their session time neared the end he paused. “And, now do you remember what good girls do at the end of their sessions?” “Yes, good girls use their mouths to repay their doctor and to clean him up for his next patient”… “That’s, right that is exactly what good girls do”. She turned around and dropped to her knees. Not just giving him head but licking his thighs and balls, Any where were here cum was she licked him clean. Moaning and licking, moaning and licking. Then finally she took him fully in her mouth and sucked on him like a machine. When he could take no more he grabbed her head. Pulled her all the way in and came deeply down her throat. He groaned as he released and held her there, her mouth balls deep until his spasms stopped and he drained himself fully inside her.

He stood up, pulled his pants up. Patted her on the top of the head and said “Our usual appointment time next week” Without thinking, or feeling Gracie simply agreed, nodding her head.

#relationship goals #bd/sm kink #bd/sm relationship #bd/sm community #relationship #bd/sm dynamic #my writing #naughty #smut #therapy #doctor fun #hypnosis #mind control #mind conditioning #brainwashing #hypno fantasy #hypnotized

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dollfacefantasy · 4 months

Note

okayokay so i was hoping you could write something for leon x chubby!reader? i swear there is not enough of that genre out there- i was thinking the reader could be feeling insecure about their weight and leon comes home to them upset on the couch :(( after some comforting and fluffy stuff he CARRIES reader to the bedroom. (as a chubby girl i fold for anyone who can carry me lol) any leon would work for this hes so precious i just wanna keep him safe and sound in my pocket ☹️🫶 anyways i tried to keep this broad enough for you to use your imagination,, i love you writing!! <3

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!chubby!reader

summary: you're feeling down about yourself and leon just can't have that

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), face sitting, features reader's weight insecurities and people being critical of her weight

word count: 3.6k

a/n: thanks for the request! i hope it was what you were looking for :) reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

You didn’t expect today to be a good day, but now, in your position curled up and wallowing on the couch, you wish your intuition had been wrong. You lie on the plush cushions, face pressed against a pillow, limbs retracted and held close to your body. You weren’t crying, but it felt like every couple minutes your eyes began to sting with the threat of tears falling. You tried telling yourself to get a grip, to grow up and just move on. This shouldn’t still hurt you so much.

But, like always, beating yourself up didn’t do anything to improve your emotional state. You continue half-paying attention to the movie you put on. It was your comfort movie, one that you put on whenever you were down. Right now though, it wasn’t helping. Your partially unfocused eyes fixate on the screen and watch the lead actress move about. She looks good constantly, her outfits flatter her figure and flaunt her features. All you’re left thinking is why can’t I look like that?

The story playing out in front of you has a bitter taste this time and only serves to remind you of all the words you heard today. Whenever you were around your family for extended periods of time, the conversation moved in this direction. One moment you’d be laughing over a funny story or reminiscing about the past, and then the next, you were being recommended diets or invited to come to the gym in what was your relatives' version of subtlety. And no matter how many times it happened, it still hurt like it was the first.

Sometimes, Leon could spare you from it. When he came around, all the attention would be on him, a newcomer who they didn’t know so much about. But on days like today, when you had to endure their company on your own, it was bound to happen.

Leon didn’t even know he was protecting you with his mere presence. You’d never told him about the passive aggressive remarks or the whispers across the room. He had enough problems of his own to deal with. You didn’t want to pile on by weeping to him, sounding like some shitty after school special. So instead, you resigned yourself to this, sinking into your self-pity until you were distracted enough to forget about it until next time.

Not much more of your movie plays before you hear the familiar sound of Leon’s keys outside the door. He comes in, offering you a small smile as he takes his jacket off and kicks his boots aside. You straighten up a little bit but not too much. Normally, you’d try to conceal all of this from him, but you were just too worn down today.

He’d been out dealing with some last minute things for work before he got a little time off for a couple weeks. He walks behind the couch to the kitchen, taking a moment to ruffle your hair as he goes by.

“How’s your day going? You had to go to that thing with your family right? Everything went well?” he asks from the kitchen.

“Yeah. It was fine,” you respond simply, “How’s yours? Get everything done?”

“Mhm,” he hums. You couldn’t see him, but he was watching you. He could tell something was up. He takes a few swigs of his drink before heading to the couch and sitting down with you. Glancing over at you a few times, he observes the way you’re watching the movie. The slight frown on your lips, your uninterested eyes.

“Hey, c’mere,” he says gently, “I missed you today.”

With a gentle tug of your wrist, he guides you across the couch. You slide over on the seats so you’re leaned against his side looking up at him. Like always, you put your head on his chest, his fingers find their way to your head and stroke it lovingly. His other hand makes his way to your side, tenderly squeezing your waist, and in-turn, gripping the plump flesh there. You loved the touch, but right now, it further amplifies your self-consciousness. You’re painfully aware of the shape of your body at this moment.

“You feeling ok?” he asks softly.

You simply nod in response, but it’s like he can see the gears turning in your head, cranking out one bad thought after the next.

“C’mon, tell me what’s wrong, pretty girl,” he coos, dragging his thumb over your cheek.

He called you that a fair amount, but in your current state, it just grated on your already frayed nerve endings. You swallow around the lump forming in your throat. “Nothing’s wrong,” you reply.

Your answer doesn’t satisfy him though. He’s not convinced. Any other day you’d talk his ear off about how you couldn’t believe someone did this or how there was no way another said that. You’d be all over him too. It seemed like you could never get enough of kissing his face or nuzzling his neck. But today you were quiet. Quiet and stiff.

“I know it’s something, baby. You can tell me. There’s nothing in this world I’d judge you for,” he murmurs before kissing your forehead.

You really wanna tell him. It shouldn’t be hard. The rational part of your brain knew all he’d do was make you feel better. Give you some smooches, whisper compliments against your skin as his hands rub you all over. The other part of you though, the irrational, scared girl hidden inside, kept you anxious. She kept you believing that this was something you had to bear alone. Even the fact that you were insecure in the first place was embarrassing.

In a move that made you feel overwhelmingly pathetic, you just shake your head. You push your face against his chest and remain silent. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat helps a little to calm you, but you still can’t force the words out.

He only grows more concerned as you shy away. He thought you just didn’t feel good, maybe a little gloomy, maybe had a headache. But this was clearly something deeper. His arms tighten around you, rubbing your back.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” he asks, “Talk to me. Breaks my heart seeing you sad.”

You can’t even stop the hot tears from sliding down your cheeks at this point. Sucking in a harsh breath, you cling to him. He sees you’re crying even though you’re quiet. He whispers a few more reassurances, trying to coax you into sharing what’s the matter.

“It’s just… do you… are you… are you attracted to me?” you choke out. Even the way you phrase it makes you wanna curl up and die.

He’s stunned. Honestly, that’s the last question he expected to hear between your soft gasps.

“What? Of course I am,” he says without a second thought.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to lie to me. I can take it,” you sob, keeping your face shielded against the muscles beneath his shirt.

“Yes I’m sure. Hey, hey,” he says. His tone drips with worry as he guides your face to look up at him, “Where’s this coming from, baby? Did I say something that made you think that?”

“N-no,” you cry, tears wetting his shirt by this point, “I- it’s just… I don’t…”

“Take a deep breath. It’s ok,” he whispers, “I just wanna know why you would be worried about that, babe?”

You follow his advice and get yourself calm enough that you can speak, but again, you can’t actually get the syllables out without losing it.

“Cause just look at me,” you weep and gesture at your figure.

“I am looking at you,” he says, still not understanding the issue.

“You’re telling me this is what you want?” you cry. You say it almost like an accusation. Like the word liar is on the tip of your tongue.

“Yes? I can’t help if you don’t tell me what the problem is, and I’m really not seeing a problem,” he says. He’s such a sweetheart. Doesn’t get defensive with you, doesn’t tell you to cool it. He’s understanding as ever, and it just makes you feel worse about your blow up.

“You really like me even though I’m chubby?” you finally blurt out.

His eyes soften when the words reach his ears.

“Oh, baby…” he coos and pulls you onto his lap. It makes you uncomfortable at first, being on top of him, but he doesn’t even react to your weight on his thighs. “I love your body, every single part of it. You never need to worry about that.”

After that, everything comes spilling out. Every derogatory comment, every side eye, every single condescending smile. You ramble on about all of it through your tears. He nods along and shakes his head in disapproval when you tell him about your cousin’s birthday party when someone asked if you really needed a slice of cake. Or Christmas when your aunt cornered you to sell you on these diet shots her doctor prescribed her and how she could get you some easily.

“I never want you worrying about that kind of shit,” he tells you once it seems like your rant has come to a conclusion.

You sniffle and nod, burrowing into him further.

“I mean it. Cause for one, you're more than that. You’re sweet, so fucking sweet. You’re smart, funny. You’re you, and that’s what I love. I love talking to you, can’t get enough of your voice,” he murmurs as he kisses your cheeks and temple, “I notice all that before I’d ever notice whatever bullshit they tell you to feel bad about.”

“I know,” you whimper. Before you can say anything else, he keeps going.

“And you asked me if I’m attracted to you? That’s an easy answer, babe,” he says. He lifts you a little, shifting you on his lap so you’re straddling him. His hands squeeze your hips and rub up and down your sides. “You don’t understand how attracted to you I am. I cum harder jerking off while I think of you than I ever did fucking anyone else.”

You gaze down at him. Heat rushes through you at that admission. Your crying has come to a halt now as you hang onto each word of his.

“I mean, really honey? What wouldn’t I like?” he purrs, “You seriously believe I wouldn’t love how soft you are? All the curves I feel press up against me when you give me a hug or you wanna cuddle?”

His hands run along your skin with more teasing now.

“Your tummy? Fucking love it. Love how you get all squirmy when I rub and kiss it how you like,” he breathes as he tugs you forward so your front is against his. He kisses your lips softly. “Love feeling those round cheeks covered in tears and drool when you start losing it for me. And your thighs? I can’t get enough of ‘em clamped around my head when I’m eating your pussy. Fucking things squeeze me till I think I’m dreaming.”

Well, didn’t you feel stupid now. As Leon continues preaching about your body like he’s referencing a divine being, his hands roam your body, sending shivers up your spine. His fingers knead the flesh of your ass before coasting around to your tits and taking handfuls of them.

“I can only say so much, dolly. Think you should just let me show you how much I love it,” he breathes against the shell of your ear.

“Ok,” you agree. So simple it draws a small chuckle from his throat.

Without the slightest hesitation, he stands up, taking you with him. He hoists you up and doesn’t even let the smallest grunt slip from between his lips. You let out a tiny squeak which turns his chuckle to a full laugh.

“Leon…” you start with uncertainty.

“Nope. None of that,” he shushes you.

He boosts you up, getting you comfortable in his arms. Your legs lock around his waist just as he starts to move. Padding away from the couch, he takes you to the bedroom. He’s not straining himself at all. He glides through the doorway with you cradled against his abdomen like this was the most natural thing in the world. In all honesty, you weren’t too much for him in the slightest. All the training he did for his government job had prepared him to carry more weight than you.

He sets you down on the bed, crawling on top of you. His lips meet yours as he leans down and connects the two of you in a series of wet kisses. His hands glide beneath the fabric of your shirt, feeling your skin and the warmth of your body. After making out for a while more, he pulls back. He kneels above you, breathing heavily as he peels off his shirt. His toned abs and chest come into view. You’re still taking in the sight of him as he starts undoing his pants. To match him, you slowly begin to remove your own attire.

Soon enough, the both of you are nude. You expect him to get back on top of you and drill you into the bed until you’re seeing stars. But instead, he flops down next to you on the mattress, looking at you with a lopsided smile.

“You want me on top?” you ask as you begin to move yourself into position.

“I do. But not how you’re thinking.”

You pause, trying to figure out what he meant. It clicks in your mind suddenly as you're looking at his smug expression. He wanted you to sit on his face. He’d asked you to once or twice before, but you usually got out of it by playing up your neediness and acting like you needed his cock that very moment or you would explode.

There was no excuse that would spare you from this now though. You look him in the eyes and shake your head. His only response is to playfully nod at you and give your hips a little tug, urging you up his chest.

“Leon…” you whisper nervously. You wanted to, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“Don’t give me that,” he teases. His tone transitions to a more genuine one as he says “Let me do this for you.”

You hesitate once more, but another light pull of your hips has you tentatively scooting forward on top of him. You brush by his chest and neck until you’re hovering above his head. He lets out a sigh just from feeling the heat of your thighs on either side of him. His elbows bend around your thighs, keeping you in position. He looks up at you and finds your nervous eyes to give you a comforting look.

“I’m gonna crush you,” you say as if to warn him.

“You better,” he responds.

And that’s all the talking he needs to do before pulling your hips down and mashing your cunt against his mouth. You gasp as you feel his tongue licking you up and down already. He groans when he tastes your slick. Diving in further, his mouth opens and closes as he pleasures you. He sucks on your clit and massages your entrance.

Your arm shoots out to hold onto the headboard for balance. Your hips involuntarily rock back and forth, smearing your arousal over his chin and lips. He keeps you in place for the most part, but he doesn’t restrain your movements. If anything, he devours you with increased fervor.

“That’s right, baby. Ride it,” he mumbles against your folds.

He tightens his grip a bit as he licks broad stripes over your pussy. His nose nudges your swollen bundle of nerves, ripping sharp whimpers from you. You roll your hips into the sensation. He nearly whines while feeling the fluid motion. He keeps lapping at you like it was the task he was born to perform.

Then you feel a thrum on your hip, his fingers tapping. You look down, at first worried he needed you to get off. But looking down, you find his hooded eyes gazing back at you and his index finger gesturing behind you.

You turn to look and see his cock, rock hard, flushed red, leaking a few drops of pre cum onto his abdomen.

“You see how attracted to you I am?” he asks.

You moan loud as he returns to eating you out like it’s his final action. Seeing him so worked up from merely pleasuring you drives you wild and has you gushing all over his chin. You whimper and grind down onto his mouth some more. Your head falls back, your chest heaving and bouncing as you accept the euphoric feeling below. You reach down and tug at his hair. He practically growls and continues to work you to the edge. He pays some special attention to your clit and fucks his tongue into you to finally get you there.

“Be a good girl and cum all over my face,” he commands between licks.

You release with a yelp. Your hips buck as your body spasms. Thighs tremble violently before tensing and pressing against his ears. He smirks against the velvety junction and keeps going through the high.

Once you start to come down, he releases you from his grip and gives you a firm smack on the ass. You slump over and crumple up next to him on the bed. His face is shimmering with your release. His fingers swipe across his chin, collecting your slick that had coated the skin there. He sticks the digits in his mouth and hums in satisfaction as he licks them clean.

“Could eat that pussy for hours, it tastes so fucking sweet,” he says as he starts moving towards you again.

Now, it’s actually time for him to crawl on top of you. He rocks his hips against you as he goes in for more kisses. His cock drags against the smooth skin of your thigh, the sticky tip sliding back and forth. His wet fingers hold your jaw and keep your lips puffed out for him to kiss.

While he kisses you more, he spreads your thighs and slots himself between your folds. He moves himself up and down through the wetness that had gathered.

“Pretty, pretty girl,” he murmurs against your lips, “My gorgeous love doll.”

Teasing himself and you by gliding his tip over you a few more times, he then moves it down against your hole and enters you fully. He moans, his breath hitching as he sinks into your warm, wet embrace.

“Good girl. Squeeze around me just like that. So fucking tight,” he grunts.

He takes a moment to just feel you. Feel your walls pulsing around him. Feel your heated, squishy form against his firm one. But then he starts to move. He slowly works his shaft back. A long drawn out “fuck” leaves his mouth before he whispers a crisp “good god” while pressing back in.

He begins to pump into you with an even pace. He strokes nice and deep, keeping his movements consistent for you. You flutter around him and squirm slightly as he prods at your most sensitive spots. He leans back to look down at the spot where the two of you connect.

He watches his cock slide in and out of you, disappearing into your cunt time and time again. He’s obsessed with how your slick coats his shaft, dripping down to the base. His thumb comes to swipe over your clit quickly and give you some extra sparks of euphoria. You whine and arch your back at the touch.

“I know you have the perfect pussy. Made all for me,” he breathes, grinning as you shiver from the pleasure he inflicts upon you, “So responsive and sensitive just for me.”

You whimper and nod. Your hands claw at his back, digging into the muscles across his shoulders. He keeps slamming into you. His eyes roll back as his release builds. He mutters more praises and collapses on top of you again. He grinds and rolls himself into you rhythmically while you start to cling to him. It becomes harder to keep still as pressure mounts inside you, begging to burst.

“Wanna see my beautiful girl cum for me,” he mumbles while pressing sloppy kisses to your neck.

You pant and nod again. It was impending. All you needed was a few more thrusts. He swivels his hips, angling himself and swiping across more spots that drive you wild. It’s just a few moments later when your body seizes again and you let go with a loud cry. He can’t hold it either as he starts to shoot ropes of cum in you. You’re both shuddering, faces tense with absolute pleasure. He’s softly whimpering in your ear while your nails make deeper crescents on his shoulder blades.

He continues bucking into you, fucking his cum deeper. It’s almost like he can’t stop. It just feels too good. He can’t pull himself away even though the high is over and he’s already started to tumble down. You’re so blissed out that you don’t even complain of overstimulation, just let him go the few extra moments till he’s satisfied.

Once he is sated, he doesn’t pull out. He just stops moving his hips. His arms tighten around you, and he nestles his face in the crook of your neck where he can take in your scent with every breath.

“See what you do to me, baby?” he pants, “Wouldn’t change a thing about you. My girl, think you’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #smut

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auteurdelabre · 1 month

Text

SO MUCH TO LOSE part 10 - dark!Joel x f!reader

rating: 18+

words: 7.5k

TW: HEAVY EMOTIONAL CHAPTER. MENTIONS OF TRAUMA. Allusions to oral sex, m receiving, allusions to f/m penetrative sex.

a/n: I told y'all this chapter's a doozy. Well it is, but maybe not for the reasons you think. . . To me its one of the most important chapters of this whole story.

series masterlist

REBLOGS, COMMENTS, ENGAGEMENT ARE WHAT KEEP US FIC WRITERS GOING. PLEASE REMEMBER THAT IF YOU ENJOYED THIS.

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

SO MUCH TO LOSE CHAPTER 10

You visit Maria the following week with a plate of cookies in hand. She’s the one to answer the door and you are relieved when you see that she is showered and dressed. Things must be improving. She brings you into a tentative hug when you arrive, urging you inside out of the fresh dusting of snow.

“Tommy has Douglas out for a little walk. I’ll make you a coffee.”

“I’m fine,” you insist. “Just came to drop off some baking. I’m heading to Ellie’s later this week and needed to get some practice in. I haven’t done much baking lately and wanted to make sure I wasn’t rusty.”

You join her on the couch, watching as she wraps her hands tightly around her coffee mug. She takes tentative sips between munches of cookie. At the first bite she literally moans.

“This is so good.”

“Thanks. They were Charlotte’s favorite.”

Maria licks the crumbs from her lips before leaning back on the sofa. She’s always been slender and she looks almost as she did back before she gave birth, except for the small pouch at her lower belly. You think she looks better with it.

“Was Charlotte your daughter?”

“Oh no. I never had kids.”

“We’re you ever married?”

“Me?” you almost laugh. “No.”

“Oh,” Maria blinks and her mouth tugs to the side. “I thought you might be. You have a nurturing quality about you.”

“I think you give me too much credit.”

Maria grins, taking another bite of cookie. The two of you chat amiably a bit about the changing weather, of the way the inhabitants of Jackson City get along so well. Of how she feels the pressure of being Jacksons’ ‘First Lady’. Of how the bandits that fuck with the dam that supports the city stresses her daily.

“It’s a fucking nightmare some days,” she cites with a grumble. “Thank goodness for Tommy.”

“He’s a good man,” you tell her.

“He is,” she smiles indulgently before shooting you a lingering look. “What do you think about Joel?”

“How do you mean?”

“You do patrols with him, right?”

“Can’t say I was always his biggest fan,” she says, taking another sip from her mug. “But he’s grown on me.”

“Yeah.”

You hold in the scoff that’s already begun in your throat.

“My friend Jennifer seems to think he’s pretty wonderful,” you offer instead. “She was delighted to help him repair the window last week.”

“She the blonde one? Used to do textiles?” Maria knows everyone thanks to her position.

“Yeah.”

“Not his type,” Maria insists with a shy grin. “She’d eat him alive.”

Jennifer doesn’t seem like she would eat anyone alive.

“Joel is all harsh edges,” she explains when she sees your confusion. “He needs someone soft to balance him out. That Jennifer girl is hard.”

You don’t think that you would consider Jennifer hard and you don’t fight Maria on it because the conversation quickly turns to Jackson’s continued increase of population, the place swelling with new life.

“Plenty of single men,” Maria says with a quirked brow in your direction. You give a soft laugh.

“Not really interested.”

“Single women too.”

“No no,” you laugh again, cheeks pinking. “I like men, I just . . . I don’t think I’m the partnering type.”

You think of Luke and his sweet features and his muscled forearms. For him you could perhaps be the partnering type. Perhaps. The thought of romance appeals to you; it just doesn’t seem realistic at times. A crush feels fun and safe.

“You must have had your share of dates,” Maria insists. You can see her relaxing and you think she must be enjoying what she views as girl time. You think she must not have had much of it lately.

“Normal crushes and stuff,” you shrug. “But I was a late bloomer and then the outbreak started when I was a teenager so I didn’t have a chance for a lot of firsts back then.”

“Sex,” Maria nods.

“Uh yeah… that…” you say, trying to appear nonchalant. “And uh, kissing, dating, all that stuff.”

“But you did eventually,” Maria cites smiling.

“Sex? Oh yes,” you nod. You weren’t a monk or anything in your time before Jackson City.

“What was your first time like?” Maria settles back against a cushion, nibbling at her cookie looking at you eagerly. “I remember mine was all fumbling in the backseat of his truck before curfew.”

You laugh and think Maria must be starved for company to be intrigued by your limited romantic experience.

“Uh… fast,” you say with a laugh before allowing yourself to be transported back to that time. “He worked at one of the bakeries that I assisted in. I remember he had the longest eyelashes I’d ever seen on a man. They were so blond you could only see them if he turned at a certain angle. He made me laugh. One night he invited me back to his apartment and… that was that.”

“How old were you?”

“Uh, twenty two, twenty three?”

“And you didn’t date after?”

“Nah, my family left that QZ kinda in a hurry.”

You aren’t expecting your voice to hitch on that last sentence, but it does. Maria grows somber, her dark eyes expressive.

“Can I ask why you left?”

You blink back the sheen of tears starting and gaze around the room, trying to land on something that will steel you. You find it in the small carving of a horse on the bookshelf nearby. You tell your story to that delicately made creature instead.

“We moved east through the QZ’s for about ten or eleven years. Stayed in a few of them before we’d pick up and keep moving to the next one. Hard to make connections and date with all that. I didn’t trust that I’d have the time.”

Maria looks like she wants to ask more when the door is opened and Tommy’s cheerful voice rings out announcing he and Douglas are home and ready for lunch.

“We have company!” Maria says cheerfully.

Tommy turns the corner to see you and he greets you. He wears Douglas strapped to him with fabric, snuggled under his large jacket. Jackson is sleeping soundly and barely notices when Tommy unwraps and hands him off to his mother.

Douglas squirms, his tiny head burrowing into Maria’s neck. She smiles and for the first time you’ve known her it looks sincere. There is a lightness in the house you realize, something that had been missing before.

“He enjoyed being out in the fresh air,” Tommy announces. “Everyone who saw him wanted to kiss him.”

“Tommy!” Maria looks horrified.

“But I didn’t let ‘em,” Tommy finishes, pressing a gentle kiss to his wife’s worried brow. “I’m gonna make some soup. You two want a bowl?”

“I’m alright,” you say. “I just brought by dessert. I’m actually heading over to Ellie’s to do some baking.”

“Joel’s letting you use his place to bake?”

You still, brows raised. “Uh… yeah. Is that… should I not be?”

“No, I’m just surprised,” Tommy admits after a pause. “I don’t think he’s ever let anyone in that house aside from me and Maria. Think the only reason he and Ellie don’t kill each other is ‘cuz she’s in the garage.”

“Oh.”

You don’t know what else to offer besides that.

Tommy nods and for a moment you see something in his expression, a pinched look when Maria looks away from him. You realize that Tommy looks harried, running a hand through his glossy curls.

“What’s up?”

“Nothin’,” Tommy replies too quickly.

You see the panic in his eyes as his gaze darts from his wife back to you. You understand immediately. Maria is doing well, if there’s something stressful in Jackson City he doesn’t want to bother her with it.

“Thanks for the tea Maria, but I better head out,” you inform them both.

Maria wraps you into a side hug, one arm around your shoulders, the other holding her son. You run your knuckles down his spine gently.

“Come back soon,” she whispers.

“I promise.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Tommy says, feigning manners. The two of you walk to the front door around the corner. As you toe on your boots you look up at him expectantly.

“Well?”

Tommy looks over his shoulder anxiously before dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper only you can hear.

“Rumor is Raiders were spotted by A Patrol this week,” Tommy says with a sigh. “Up by the traps.”

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Really?”

“Not positive. A Patrol isn’t always the most reliable. They spook easy and are overly cautious. But I’d rather that than the alternative.”

“Of course.”

“Just make sure you and Joel are extra cautious,” Tommy says. “I know you’re both responsible but, you know…. Just be extra responsible.”

You nod, feeling your heart thrumming in your chest as you make your way to Rancher Street.

///

You didn't really want to go to Joel's house today. But Ellie had found you last night heading home from The Tipsy Bison and had guilted you into it when she told you that Joel had brought back all the supplies needed.

You'd tried to sway her into baking at your place but only the burners on your oven work. You'd never really considered getting the main oven fixed, since you take most of your meals in the dining hall.

But in moments like this, you heavily regret that choice.

You feel like even your footsteps sound timid as they make their way up the wood steps.

Ellie is at the door, pulling it open before you can even knock. She must have been looking for you at the window, counting down the seconds until your arrival. The thought warms you. She gives you a broad smile that lights up her face.

"I got everything set up!"

She takes off down into the kitchen and you venture into the Miller home tentatively, still anxious about what happened last time.

A sound to your right draws your attention and you take in the tall form of Joel coming into the room. He's dressed in jeans and a sweater, obviously feeling the chill despite the cheery fire that roars behind him.

"Mornin'," he greets.

"Morning." You lick your lips nervously. "Thanks for letting me bake with Ellie."

"'Course. She's been looking forward to it for weeks. Can't stop talkin' about it.'

Joel gives you a whisper of a smile but the thing that really throws you about this interaction is that he looks almost nervous. You've never seen Joel look nervous.

He'd been so stiff after last patrol, not even saying goodbye to the group after you'd all disembarked off the horses.

It had been embarrassing. Him storming off like you'd all done something wrong. Only Jennifer seemed to still be under Joel's spell citing that watching him hammer the window would fuel her fantasies for months to come.

You're still really irritated with him but it's lessened slightly because his greeting isn’t hostile. You could almost relax if it weren’t for the intense way he��s staring at you.

You hear your name being called by Ellie in the next room so you toe off your shoes and head into the kitchen. She's got an apron on, borrowed from the kitchen or Joel because it's far too big for her small frame.

"Alright," you give her a warm smile as you enter. "You got everything?"

"Yep."

You place the bag you brought on the counter. You remove your own apron, baby blue with ruffles on the end. A recent gift from Jennifer who told you “since you’re a real chef you need your own apron”. You tie it as you speak to Ellie.

"So what I like to do is set up all my supplies on the counter just to double check I have everything. Nothing worse than being halfway through a recipe and finding out you you’re missing ingredients."

The sentence isn't even out of your mouth before Ellie’s opened up her cupboards and ice box and begun to take everything out. Flour, eggs, bowls, milk and more, all the items you gave Joel on the list. She places them on the counter before looking at you like a proud student.

"You'll need measuring spoons."

The two of you turn at the same time to see Joel standing by the entrance to the kitchen, lingering. His hands are in his jean pockets, standing like a chastised student outside the classroom.

"I brought some," you inform him, trying to hold in your irritation. You pull them from your bag, putting them next to the eggs.

You feel Joel's eyes on your back and you're sure he's silently judging you, eager to point out what you're doing wrong. You stiffen under the perceived scrutiny. Ellie must sense the change in the room because she whips around to shoot him a jeering look.

"Joel you don't need to supervise," Ellie says rolling her eyes. "We won't break the damn stove."

Joel looks at his feet mumbling something about needing to do stuff upstairs anyway before he's making his way out of the kitchen.

You go back to your lesson with Ellie who turns out to be a very focused student.

She asks smart questions, measures everything perfectly and takes her time. It's only when you put her in charge of cracking three eggs into the bowl that she gets frustrated.

"Fuck, it cracked wrong. Shell got in."

Her fingers pinch into the egg bowl, trying to grasp the fallen eggshell. Of course the viscous nature of the raw egg makes it impossible and it’s not long before she pushes at the bowl angrily, her face is set into a deep frown.

“S’fucking bullshit.”

"Happens all the time," you tell her kindly. "Don't stress about it. I’ll show you a secret my mom taught me and my sister to get ‘em out."

Ellie watches as you take the empty shell half still in her hand. Her brows knit in confusion as you lower it into the bowl, using it as a scoop. Unlike with her fingers, the egg shell piece floats easily into the makeshift scoop. You pull the shell from the bowl, tossing the mess into the garbage.

“Holy shit that actually worked.” Ellie smiles at this and it transforms her pale pinched features into that of a warm, approachable teenager.

You smile, feeling strangely proud. You’ve never baked with anyone else before, aside from the kitchen. But that was following the same boring recipes given by the head chef. You were usually boiling rice, cutting onions or apples. Baking is a different beast, a calmer, more relaxing one.

After that hiccup Ellie is more patient with herself. She's keen to learn about baking but she's very eager to talk to you about you. When you pop the formed pastries into the oven and set the timer she decides that now is the time to chat.

"What kind of music did you used to listen to before?"

Memories of Joel’s warning float in your mind. The reminder not to tell her too much. To make her long for a life that he can’t give her.

"Enough about me,” you deflect. “I want to know about you."

At this Ellie balks slightly, the smile wavering just a fraction before the mask is replaced and she nods. Her mixing increases but now her eyes are on the batter.

"Whadda you wanna know?"

"What was your life like before Jackson?"

"I was in the QZ back in Boston,” she says slowly, as if she's trying to make sure she doesn't give too much away. "Hated it."

"Parents?"

"Never met 'em."

"What brought you to Jackson City?"

"Joel."

She doesn't offer you more or less than that. You understand it, you don't push it.

"How'd you end up here?" She asks, mixing the dry ingredients.

You realize the stupidity of you asking her those questions. How easily you opened them to be doubled back on yourself.

"You asked me what kind of music I listened to before?" You smile, hoping that this will distract her. "I remember I saw Chicago about a billion times," you laugh. "I was obsessed. I listened to the soundtrack over and over."

"Chicago," Ellie says slowly as if trying to recall before a light seems to go on. "Oh, I've heard of Chicago. Joel likes ‘em."

Them?

It takes you a minute to understand what she's talking about. You finally answer giggling.

"Chicago the musical, not the band. The musical had great songs. And dancing."

"Do you dance?"

"Not very well."

Your dual laughter combines and you can't help but enjoy the sound. Ellie really does make you laugh. She reminds you of how life was before. When everything seemed new.

You can tell Ellie wants to know everything about your life before the outbreak. And you want to indulge her but Joel's words rub their imprint on your the inside of your skull.

"Hey I promised your D- Joel that I wouldn't keep talking about this stuff with you," you explain quietly. "He's worried it makes you want stuff you can't have."

"Jesus," Ellie says rolling her eyes. “Overprotective much?”

"No he's right," you insist truthfully. "I mean, I get where he's coming from. He doesn't wanna keep disappointing you."

"Joel could never disappoint me."

The timer goes off and you peer into the oven. The pastries are a golden brown. You smile before taking them out with the oven mitt. Ellie closes her eyes, inhaling.

"They smell so good."

"Just wait until you put icing on them," you encourage with a grin. "Delicious."

The two of you get to work making the icing while the pastries cool.

"It's gonna snow," Ellie comments out of nowhere as she peers out the window, mixing idly.

"Hate to break it to you, El, it's already snowing."

Ellie gives you a smirk along with her side eye. You don't know if it's from your sarcastic comment or the fact that you called her El.

"I mean I think it’s gonna snow a lot." She explains. "I heard some of the other kids talking about it at school."

"Huh," you offer noncommittal as you look at the consistency of the icing. "Wonder how they can tell."

"They said they could smell it," Ellie says with a grin, pushing up the sleeve of her shirt so that it doesn't drip into the icing bowl. "They said tha-"

You can't hear anything she's saying after that. All you can focus on is her now bared arm and the ugly bite mark. Blood rushes in your ears and you cry out before giving a blood curdling shriek.

“No!”

Ellie jumps, startled at your sudden screams. She throws herself back against the wall, eyes wide and glancing around as if she expects hordes of infected to come streaming in.

"What? What is it?"

You know she's never seen you be loud, never seen you scream and the sight must terrify her.

But all you can focus on is the clear outline of bite marks on her forearm visible after she rolled up her sleeves. The clear sign of an infected’s mark. She’s going to turn into a clicker before your eyes. She’s going to become soulless and inhuman and you need to go. You need to get somewhere safe.

Joel. He’ll be so devastated.

You can hear the heavy footsteps of Joel approaching the kitchen but all you can think of is escaping and getting yourself safe. You have to warn the town. You run towards the front door, your socks slipping over the smooth floor.

You're still screaming incoherently, your voice cracking as you lunge for the doorknob, tears in your eyes. Your hand closes around the brass knob just as two muscled arms go around your waist, pulling you back harshly. A hand covers your mouth and a deep voice is at your ear.

"Quit," he repeats, shaking you slightly in his arms. "Stop screamin'."

There's an increasingly paranoid thought that believes this was all a trap. A way for Joel to get his daughter fed. You feel it, Joel's arms wrapped around your entire body, pinning your arms to your sides. His body is warm and solid behind you, terrifying in its strength. It takes you to a time you've tried to forget.

"Get the fuck off of me!" You shriek against his palm, trying to wriggle out of his grip but he holds firm. You're screaming expletives, trying to kick out. You shake his hand off your mouth. "She's bit, Joel! I saw it!"

Ellie hasn't moved from where she stands cowering in the corner of the kitchen. But you can only imagine how soon it will be before she turns. You can't be here for that. You can’t watch that sweet girl turn into one of them.

"I know," Joel rumbles against your temple, hands still gripping you tightly.

"You know," you repeat and now a dread begins in your feet and floods the rest of you.

Joel knows she is bit. Joel welcomed you into his home knowing she was bit.

You are going to die.

"Let me go!"

High on fearful adrenaline you give a frantic kick backwards, elbowing into Joel's abdomen at the same time you thrust the ball of your foot onto his socked toes. Joel gives a strangled grunt and his arms loosen in pain momentarily allowing you a chance to break free from him.

You tug open the door and speed out without your boots. You feel the snow on the porch under your feet, freezing your toes immediately. You throw yourself down the porch stairs, feet slapping the wood as you hold back sobs. The street is deserted; the houses all empty as they usually are on bright Saturday afternoons. You go to cry out for someone, anyone, when Joel's arm bands around your waist.

You give a devastated howl of defeat before Joel is dragging your struggling frame back into the house, telling you to calm down.

Ellie is by the sink, her eyes on the ground.

But you still struggle, trying to get away from this house. Joel gives a frustrated growl before he pushes you up against the wall, pinning you there with his hips. His hands hold your wrists on either side of your head, pressing them into the wall.

"Stop fuckin' strugglin'," Joel seethes when you jerk against him, his chest pressing you so tightly to the wall you can't breathe.

"Please let me go," you beg brokenly as you continue to struggle in his arms. "Please I just-“

"She's immune," he rasps in your ear. "She's fucking immune! Stop!"

Immune. Immune.

"What?" You stop your screaming just long enough to twist your head to face him. "Immune? That's not possible."

But you’ve stopped struggling as hard.

You take a closer look at Ellie’s arm from where you stand, noticing that it doesn’t look particularly fresh. In fact it looks scarred. And yet something in you is still terrified. So terrified that you yelp when you feel Joel's wide hands go to either side of your face, forcing your face up and eyes to his.

"Everything is okay," Joel tells you in a husky rasp. "You're safe, I promise. I've got you. You're safe."

His eyes are locked with yours as he says this and you don't know how those words work their way into your body, but they do. The same way they wind around you as you allow yourself to get lost on patrols with your mouth on him. That sense that someone else is in charge, someone else is protecting you.

You're safe.

Your entire frame goes boneless in his arms and when he finally releases your face your head drops to your chest. He continues to press you gently against the wall with one heavy hand holding you there.

"What if it's slow acting or -" you whisper quietly, "or what if you can still pass it on with saliva or-"

"The dogs don't detect it," Joel tells you, his hold on you not lessening. "Ellie and I've shared drinks plenty a' times. She's immune."

You stare at the girl at the table, her entire countenance shifted. You can see the devastation, the fear and anger floods out of you immediately, like a deep sigh. You sag in Joel's arms, feeling as he slowly loosens you.

"She's had it for months," Joel tells you, no longer pinning you to the wall.

"Months?"

You're still stunned by the developments but it doesn't stop your eyes from traveling over to Ellie. You see now that tears are slipping off the end of her nose as she silently cries. She’s pulled her sleeve back down, covering the scar.

Your heart immediately breaks because it's you who did this to her. This girl who trusts so few. You treated her like she was a monster.

"Ellie I'm sorry, I just..." You trail off, your heart still beating wildly.

But Ellie has tears in her eyes, her neck blotchy. She's raced to the garage, slamming the door after her. You flinch at the sound of it.

Then it’s just you and Joel in the quiet kitchen.

"How long have you known?"

"Since I met her," Joel explains quietly. "Was bringing her to the fireflies with a friend in exchange for a battery. Rumor was there was a cure."

"Guess not if you're both here," you say absently, missing the pain in his dark eyes when you say it.

"Not a lot of people know about it. We'd like to keep it that way."

You nod, your mind whirring. You realize you've never seen Ellie in anything but long sleeves. Never seen her wearing bracelets or anything that would draw her attention to her arms. She’s been hiding in plain sight. You think of the friendships she hasn’t made, the way she keeps to herself, the hostile way she is with most and it all clicks into place.

"We were thinking of gettin' her a tattoo to cover it up,” Joel continues. “Haven't found anyone to do it yet."

You nod again, eyes falling on the pastries now lying squashed on the floor, the warm berries oozing out onto the wood.

“I’ll take care of this stuff,” Joel mutters, dropping to his knees and starting to pick up the supplies you brought. You think of how excited Ellie had been to recreate the pop tarts, how devastated she’ll be when she realizes they’re all ruined.

"I- I think I should go talk to Ellie."

"She doesn't wanna talk. Trust me."

"Just lemme try."

Joel looks as if he's about to protest but you're already walking quickly until you've reached the door to the garage. You knock gently.

"Ellie? It's me. Please don't be upset ... I was just startled."

There's a pause, then a sniffle that makes your heart lurch.

"Can we talk? Please, Ellie?"

You hear shuffling and then finally the door to the garage is opened a crack and you see Ellie peering through. Her eyes are swollen and red, the end of her nose pink. She glares at you through the small slit in the door.

"Fuck off."

"I just want to explain. Just let me explain and then I promise I'll leave."

She doesn't move, doesn't attempt to close or open the door. She just stands there like some sentry.

“Five minutes. That’s all I need.”

"You think I'm a freak."

"I don't," you insist, palm on the door as if you could transfer your emotions by osmosis to her. "Ellie I was having fun right before all this. I really was. Can we talk? Please? I want to explain properly."

Ellie’s glossy eyes scan your body and with a labored sigh she steps back, opening the door and allowing you entrance.

"Come in."

You follow her into the warm space, watching as she drops onto her made bed. Ellie hugs her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as you look at her. Ellie's eyes drag from the floor up to your face and you see her chin trembling as she holds in tears.

“Can I sit?” you ask motioning to beside her on the bed. She nods, shuffling to give you room to perch there.

“I know you’re not gonna come back after this,” Ellie says, eyes wide with a quiet pleading as you look over at her.

“Of course I am.”

“No you’re not,” Ellie says shaking her head and rubbing angrily at her eyes. “You’ve seen my arm. You think I’m a fucking freak.”

"Ellie I swear I don't think you're a freak," you emphasize as you shuffle on the edge of her bed. "I was just... That bite took me back to a really scary time."

"Yeah," Ellie says with her chin balanced on her kneecap. "No one wants to think about... All that stuff."

You see the desolation there in her eyes. She's hurt and even though you didn't mean to do it you did. You feel responsible for her sadness. Your eyes go to her closed door, wanting to make sure you have privacy before you turn back to her.

"Ellie, can I share some stuff with you?"

"Yeah.”

"It's not happy stuff," you tell her.

"Figured." Ellie shrugs again like it doesn't matter. Like she's seen it all. Maybe she has, but you doubt it. She doesn’t make eye contact with you.

“It’s just. . . I’ve never told anyone this stuff before. Ever.”

Ellie’s eyes go to your face now. She can see how serious you are and she straightens slightly. She goes from being hunched and holding her legs to sitting cross legged across from you on the bed.

"Okay..." You take a sharp inhale. “So, I was about your age when Outbreak Day happened. I was with my Dad and my sister. My mom was visiting my Aunt in Wyoming-“

“How come?”

“Ellie you gotta let me get this all out quick okay?” you say gently. “No interruptions.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you breathe deeply again. “She was visiting my aunt because my aunt was getting a divorce and my mom wanted to support her. Anyway, about ten years ago my dad and my little sister and I were travelling between QZ’s. We were looking for my Mom because my Dad was convinced she was still alive and she’d be out in this direction.”

You swallow; hating talking about this but knowing that Ellie deserves this truth. So far she looks intrigued, her eyes wide.

“So one night we were exhausted. We’d been travelling for days and we were low on food and water. We see this old cabin and it looks like it’s abandoned. We figure it’s a good spot to hunker down and get some energy before we keep going.” You exhale a shuddering breath.

“Except it wasn’t abandoned. It was a trap set up by this group of Raiders. I called them The Group. They killed my dad and they were gonna kill me and my sister when one of the guys had the bright idea that they could use us as bait.”

"Bait?"

Ellie seems to remember she’s not supposed to say anything because she ducks her head slightly.

"Yeah. they made us go into new places first," you explain detached, as if you’re talking about another woman in another life. "So if there was anything dangerous it would get us in enough time to give The Group a chance to escape.”

Ellie is staring at you wide-eyed, all her teenage ambivalence lost as you detail the most terrifying years of your life. You omit lots of the more gruesome details and you definitely don’t tell her about Rock River.

"Once they hung me from a tree," you tell her, trying not to sound emotional. It's not hard. Years of hiding how that part of your life affects you makes you good at it. "They tied me to a rope and hung me on a branch to attract clickers."

"Jesus."

"Yeah," you nod. "It worked really well. There was a big group and they piled underneath me, trying to grab at me, their mouths all black and their teeth gnashing and...” you stop yourself when you see Ellie’s eyes widening. “Anyway, The Group got ‘em all and managed to get some good supplies in the town because of it. I just... It just left me kind of..."

You wince when you realize you’ve trailed off, your focus blurred.

"The point is that when I saw your arm it just all came flooding back and I reacted out of instinct. Not because I think you're a freak. I could never think that about you.”

Ellie is quiet, digesting all that you've told her. You think you hear a creaking outside her door, but you're not sure. Your attention is drawn back to the girl who’s eyes hold such a myriad of emotions; pain, empathy, fear, anger.

"How did you end up here?"

You think about not telling her. But it feels so good to be getting some of this information out, like you’re coughing up a thick black piece of flesh that’s been festering in your lungs for years, making it so you can now finally breathe.

"One guy, Chiyo, he joined up with our group a few years after I was taken. He owned a shooting range before everything.... You know…. Well, he'd broken his ankle in a recent raid and couldn’t really move much. If we hadn't come upon him when we did he probably would have been killed by another group of raiders. But as it was he had this giant stash of weapons and The Groups ranks were thinning so..."

You trail off, thinking of how you'd come upon him first when you and The Group got to town. How the leader you thought of as Red due to his hair (you never learned their real names), shoved you brutally by the shoulder.

Always the bait.

But after what had happened only the week before you didn’t care anymore. Red pushed you and you entered willingly, your feet not even dragging as you walked. It was either be shot by one of The Group attempting to escape, or see what resided inside the shop with the boarded up windows.

Chiyo’s gun was trained on you the second you walked in. The way you held your hands at your eye level when he told you he was going to shoot.

“I’m gonna blow your head clean off if you take another step.”

And suddenly you’d decided that you were done. You were so tired. And at least this way it would be quick and it would be away from The Group. And so you’d taken another step towards Chiyo, hands still raised.

You can still recall the furrowing of his thick brows and the lowering of his weapon as he stared at you.

"You want to die?"

You hadn't answered him but that had been answer enough for Chiyo. He'd hobbled over to you, dragging his lame leg, dark eyes fixed on your face.

"I'm not gonna hurt you."

And when he'd said it, you'd believed him.

You remember the way you'd convinced the rest of The Group they needed someone like him. A crack shot, you told them. You'd had no idea of knowing if it was true. But there had been warmth in Chiyo's eyes that was missing from the rest of The Groups. Something that you clinged to in the coming months.

"Thankfully he was a really good shot,” you explain. “He joined up and we stripped his shop of his guns and eventually his ankle healed thanks to the medic in The Group and he was suddenly part of the team.”

“Was he nice to you?”

“Yeah. He was really kind. Whenever they used me as bait he insisted on going with. He said it was so we could save me for really bad missions, but I knew it was to protect me. They let him get away with it because he was such a good shot, I think. Everyone liked him. When the rest of The Group was asleep we'd talk by the fire. Chiyo was afraid of horses," you tell Ellie with a small smile. “Was about the only thing he was afraid of.”

You don't tell her everything. You don't tell of the tender way he fucked you in the wee hours of the morning before The Group rose most mornings. How he whispered that he missed his dead wife and would never dishonor her memory by kissing you. But you hadn’t minded, you understood and you’d both been gentle with each other.

You’d enjoyed getting lost in the sensation of him. Of his cock in your mouth, of your cunt stuffed full of him. The rhythmic sensation of sex that took you out of your body and away from your every day horrors.

You remember how he would hold you, tears sliding onto your collar as he spilled himself onto your belly whimpering his dead wife’s name. How he would thank you over and over with your hand at the base of his skull, mouth against his shoulder while you quietly sobbed your own gratitude.

"After a few months he told me he was escaping. He'd heard about Jackson City and that's where he was headed. He wanted to bring me to see if we could find my Mom."

"Holy shit,” Ellie breathes. “Where is he now?"

"He didn't make it," you tell her tightly.

And now the shield is back in your voice and eyes and she must sense it. Ellie doesn’t press this, seems to understand that there is more there. With a teenagers’ sensibilities and a teenager’s romanticism she asks you her next question.

"Were you in love with him?"

Chiyo is a faint memory, a watercolor blur if you think about him in too much detail. When you try to recall things like the scar over his left eyebrow or the dragon tattoo on his inner thigh. But these are just pieces of him. They aren't him.

When you think of Chiyo there is a warmth. But it's the warmth that comes from having a benevolent savior. One who never told you that you were in his debt. Yes, you cared for him. Of course you did. He was gentle and he was kind and his heart was soft.

"No," you say firmly. "He was nice though and I cared about him. Probably as close to love as I'll ever get."

You and Ellie are quiet for a long time.

“I tried saving a bit boy once,” she finally offers. “His name was Sam. Tried rubbing my blood on him. Thought it would save him. It didn’t. He turned and his brother had to kill him before he killed himself.”

You don’t allow yourself to cry. You know that isn’t what Ellie needs right now.

“I’m the reason so many people are dead,” Ellie explains when you say nothing in return. “My Mom died having me. Riley… Tess… Sam…Henry... Ellie’s voice is doing that same detached thing yours does. “Sometimes I honestly think it would be better if I was never born.”

You can’t help the way your arms leap out in front of you to gather the girl into your arms. She tries to fight you on it, flinching from the contact before your unrelenting arms pull her into a tight squeeze, tugging her into your lap. Angry tears slip down her red cheeks, her cries breaking free as you wrestle her into a bear hug.

“I’m so glad you exist, Ellie.”

And then all the fight is gone from her body and she’s sobbing quietly into your shoulder, her tiny frame shaking. You hold her against you, wanting your adoration and affection to move through your body into hers so she knows how much she’s wanted.

“The world would be so much worse without you in it,” you assure her honestly. “You’re special, Ellie. And not because you’re immune. Because you’re smart and brave and funny and you make people like me feel like we’re worth something.”

Her arms wrap around your neck, face in your shoulder and she allows you to continue holding her, rocking her gently in your lap as if she were your own teenage daughter.

“And yes you’re stubborn and you can be annoying,” you add, trying to lighten the mood. “But there’s no one I like talking to as much as I like talking to you. You made me look forward to breakfasts in the dining hall because it meant I got to speak to you.”

“You’re just saying that,” she sniffles, arms loosely circling your neck.

“You don’t like liars, right?” You remind her. “Well I’m not lying. Plus, I know Joel loves you and he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy that loves many people so you must be pretty great.”

Ellie gives a shallow huff of amusement in your shoulder.

“And I know Maria and Tommy adore you just as much if not more than I do. And if you opened up a little more with the kids around here I know they’d love you just as much as we do because you’re a wonderful person. The world would be so much worse without your light, Ellie. You bring light to the darkness.”

You continue rocking her for several moments, waiting until her sobs turn into hiccups and then gentle swallows. Finally she pulls back from you, almost embarrassed at the emotional display. She shuffles back onto the bed, picking at the loose string hanging from her pillow.

“I think I’m cursed.”

“Hey now that’s not true,” you insist. “I’m here aren’t I? How is that a curse? If anything it’s a blessing.”

She gives you a weak smile that you return.

“C’mon, let’s go and finish the pop tarts.”

“We’ll have to start all over again,” Ellie almost whines.

“Then I guess I’ll be staying here a little longer.”

Ellie wipes at her blotchy face, running her hands down her cheeks before nodding and standing abruptly. You two make it back into the kitchen, surprised to see Joel standing there. His broad shoulders ripple as he works on something in front of him, his back to you.

Ellie sails over to him, her eyes wide when she sees what he’s done. “Wait are those the pop tarts?”

“Yep.”

“I thought they were ruined.”

“Yours were,” Joel shrugs, spreading icing onto one of the homemade pop tarts. “Mine went okay.”

You feel as if you’ve been physically pushed.

Joel baked?

Ellie snags one of the still warm pastries from the plate as Joel starts running the cloth over the counter and wiping the crumbs into the sink. You look at the joy on Ellie’s face as she takes a bite.

“Holy shit, Joel, these are so fucking good.”

“Language,” Joel admonishes over his shoulder, though there’s nothing harsh in it. He turns around, hip resting against the counter.

“I’m gonna have you do all my baking,” Ellie continues as if she hasn’t heard him. “I’ll just be your taste tester.”

You want to grin at this but all you can do is stare at Joel and the soft way he’s smiling down at Ellie. This open look of adoration you so rarely see. Like there’s this secret Joel inside the mean Joel shell that the privileged few witness.

Joel could never disappoint me.

Joel seems to feel your eyes on him because he blinks over at you, dark eyes darting around your face. His expression is unreadable, but there’s nothing cruel or cold in it. He’s just looking at you, almost as if he’s trying to figure you out as well.

“Well looks like we’re all set here so I should go,” you start awkwardly, suddenly feeling strangely light headed. Joel steps towards you, brows rising.

“You could stay for a dr-“ Joel begins, but you’ve already made your way to the front door, pulling on your boots and jacket.

Your hands are trembling for some reason and you think it must be all this emotional turmoil you’ve shared with Ellie. It has you feeling vulnerable and exposed and you want to escape home to the safety of your bed, away from soulful brown eyes and soft smiles.

“Ellie you wanna grab breakfast before patrols?” you ask, studiously ignoring Joel who stands next to her looking at you. You don’t want her to think you’re rushing off and forgetting about her.

“Sure,” Ellie says brightly before motioning to the plate of pastries. “You want any of these to go?”

“Nah, you enjoy them,” you insist with a flash of a smile. “You worked hard.”

You don’t look backwards as you rush out the door of their home and down the sidewalk of Rancher Street, convinced you can feel Joel’s dark gaze on you the entire way.

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

secondary a/n: The other parts I wanted to include in this chapter were gonna bloat this installment into over 10k and I wasn't even finished so I had to break it up!

CHAPTER 11 SPOILERS BELOW THE JOEL

in chapter eleven there be smut.

TAGLIST:

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@joeldjarin

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@r4vens-cl4ws

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flowerflowerflo · 3 months

Text

girl's guide to academic success: part 1 ⊹˚. ♡

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ organisation

first off, have something to organise ur academic life with! i personally use notion (which i'll add later) but u can use anything as long as it's cute, convenient, unique and accessible to you, your life and your schedule specifically. especially as a visual learner, i like to have somewhere i can dump literally everything regarding a singular area in my life, so i do this for almost everything along with school and i highly recommend this <3

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ recognition of talents & improvements

analyse your strengths and weaknesses. think back on tests, exams, marks, and analyse which ones you got highest and lowest on. dont beat urself up for it, obviously; it's just to check which subjects you're doing good in and which ones have room for improvement. for example i love science but im not the best at it sometimes and we had an assessment recently and i didn't get as high as i'd like so i wrote down a little list on a piece of paper in my pencilcase for the topics i got the least in for me to study on my own to practise later.

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ laying out goals

set down specific goals; i like to do this week by week accustomed to my schedule that week in my school notion page along with images and vision boards based on the term/semester, but you can do it for the week, the month, the year, anything as long as its helpful to you

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ productive planning

plan accordingly based on ur time energy. when creating any to do list or productivity plan dont pile a ridiculous amount onto it that just leaves you stressed and overwhelmed because that defeats the entire point; this works the same for academic plans and goals and lists etc.

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ extra credit

put extra work in to the subjects you know will help you in the future. for example, for my personal aspirations i need to excel in english, history and textiles so i always try my absolute hardest and put my all into those lessons and do extra studying for them in my free time where i can. school is to prepare you for the future so take advantage of that

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ asking questions

please don't be shy to ask questions! that's what teachers are there for and you won't have them forever so take advantage of it while you can! you can even do it in that little window of time just after class if ur too nervous to ask in class. for example, on my last english exam i went to my teacher after class and asked about what i needed to improve on to get the marks i missed next time, and he told me i added too much detail and some other things so i wrote it down and am keeping a note of it to remind me to improve on that next time! (i got top of my class though so i didnt mind. still kind of pissed i added too much detail though)

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ participation

participate! ok im saying this as someone who still struggles with social anxiety a fair amount but if u wanna get higher marks and get on good terms w ur teacher i 100% recommend this. i don't do this in every class but i do it where i can and when i'm confident in my answer, and it's really intimidating at first but what i did is i did it first in the classes i felt most comfortable on and continued from there. it gets easier every time i swear, and nobody's judging you; they'll forget about it after five minutes. plus, what would they be judging you for? being smarter than them?

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ prioritising ur health

this is mentioned a lot in these types of posts but if you're tired or burnt out or overworked or just feel like you need to take a break then do. do the best you can and compromise like i said earlier if you need to, just make sure u are prioritising yourself over anything. <3

inspo ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

my notion ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

i also really recommend this layout by @honeytonedhottie, she's amazing go follow her

lots of love! <3

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mechaknight-98 · 19 days

Text

Holy Grail 1

Authors note: the poll fic is coming along with a few other ideas I’ve been churning out. In the meantime here is a SFW stitching together of last week’s fics with some extra story at the end

“Picture this: it's the final round of Core-A’s Tatsunoko VS Capcom blast from the past tournament and my friend Bonsai is facing off against a new challenger whose gamer tag is Mothra. (she also happens to be his girlfriend Olivia Hye, but more on that later) The set is tied between Bonsai and her. She's been wrecking His team of Frank West and Tekkaman so to throw her for a curveball He goes Polymer and Morrigan. Mothra is confused “No one plays Polymer,” she says perplexed at Bonsai's choice, but Bonsai smiles at his opponent, and says confidently "I do," being a strong competitive player Bonsai easily beats Mothra with his unique team.”

Our friends clap happily as I recount the tournament story for those who weren't present; Jacob, Haseul, Arin, Nagyung, and Tobi. Olivia Hye (Mothra) was less than happy with my recounting of events.

“Yeah, I don't know why you're so cocky; you came in third,” Olivia rolled her eyes, her skepticism evident.

I narrowed my eyes at her before asserting, “Yeah because I only lost to Bonsai. I beat everyone else I played against, and I would have beaten you,” I said, laughing, knowing that despite my boisterous and arrogant antics, I often backed it up with skill.

Bonsai knew I put in more hours into the game than he did. I was constantly in the training lab, mastering characters, but he still bested me because he was the better player. Bonsai also knew If I hadn't pushed him to learn more characters, including Polymer and Morrigan. Plus my strategic input, proved invaluable against high-tier players due to their unpredictability. he would have not won today's tournament

Olivia remained unconvinced. “Oh, come on, Bonsai beat you in three rounds with one flawless win,” she retorted.

Sensing an opportunity to dismantle her argument, I was ready to point out flaws in her playstyle and offer ways to improve, but Bonsai, defending his girlfriend from my unwanted critiques, intervened, “Sorry, Liv, but Daizo would level you. I only beat him because I know how he approaches the game and his patterns.”

Hyeju laughed, “Please, and like I couldn't! We all play together every Thursday, and he always comes in under us.” Bonsai and I exchanged knowing glances, and I decided to drive the point home.

Raising an eyebrow, I struck the killing blow, “Um, Olivia, what two characters are my mains in TVC?”

Olivia shrugged, “Um, Karas and Chun Li?”

I looked at Bonsai as he broke the news to his girlfriend, sighing as he explained, “Hye, he hates playing Chun Li and Karas. He only does it to you because I ask him to.”

Olivia was flabbergasted, “Why?” she asked.

Bonsai knew he had to broach this carefully. “Well, did you see his last match?”

Olivia shook her head. “No, all I heard from that was screaming while I got us lunch.”

Bonsai sighed, elaborating, “Babe, he zero to deathed his opponent after reading their first assist correctly, and he only started playing Joe the Condor today.”

Olivia looked at him, then at me, confused, as did the rest of the group.

“You just learned Joe today?” Arin inquired, struck with bewilderment.

I nodded, prompting Jacob to ask a very legitimate question, “Wait, why risk that at a paid tournament? That seems out of your win-at-any-cost mentality.”

I shrugged before answering, “Because as soon as I was in the same bracket side as Bon, I was getting third place no matter what, so why not see how far I could push my limits?”

Olivia looked at me with disgust, “How arrogant of you to think you can just waltz in and win a tournament on whim picks.”

I laughed and responded, “Liv, we had to give you an advanced tech crash course when you told us you wanted to participate on a whim, despite only playing occasionally with us. I don't want to hear about me doing anything competition-wise on a whim. I am always competition-ready.” This made Olivia go quiet.

Arin, bless her heart, sensed the tension and grabbed my hand. Her touch, as always, was a soothing wave cooling off the plasmidic heat that I felt burn in the Vacuous Core where normal emotional reactions should be.

It worked until Olivia's hurt ego resurfaced, and she said,

“Okay, then Daizo, if you're so great, how about a friendly exhibition match?” I heard Arin sigh, and I knew that either I or Olivia was going to receive a lecture later. But honestly, she already blooded the water by doubting me and further pushed me with an official challenge. So when we got to Bon and Liv's place, I was nearly delirious with anticipation.

I beat Liv 25-1. We could have stopped at 13-0, but the part of me that my friends don't like demanded I beat her more. Thankfully, before I could make Liv cry, Arin and Bonsai stopped me.

“Okay, Disaster, that's enough. You have proved your supremacy, and I don't think Hye can take anymore,” Bonsai's sad tone reached me, and I came out of that dark place.

Arin and I went back to our shared apartment, leaving Bonsai to comfort the almost in-tears and shocked Olivia on their shared couch. He cuddled next to his girlfriend, who was a little grumpy that I beat her...repeatedly

“I can't believe Daizo’s so mean,” she said with an adorable pout. You smiled and nestled closer.

“Come on, babe, you went after him and triggered one of his "episodes". Be glad we stopped it before you went 1-29,” Bonsai said.

Olivia was just revving up, though, “It's just…(He shut her up with an impassioned kiss) uh, babe, no fair.” Bonsai spent the rest of the night consoling his girlfriend's hurt feelings.

A couple of days after what I guess you could call my "bullying" of Hyeju, our little friend group met up again, as we had planned. Arin and I ended up being late due to circumstances beyond our control—a rainstorm that felt almost biblical in its intensity. Arin laughed as we finally entered her car.

"You know, this reminds me of the time we fell for each other," Arin reminisced.

"Yeah, it was a cloudy morning like this," I responded.

"Cloudy? It was pouring," Arin corrected.

I raised an eyebrow. "Huh, oh, I guess that day has such a weird recollection in my head."

"Yeah, me too, but I distinctly remember the rain and seeing how soaked Jacob and you were," Arin replied. "To think we were at each other's throats, and in a split second, we were making out on the floor."

"Yeah, love is weird," I said.

Jacob was grinning ear to ear as we walked to his car. "We're going to this party—there will be girls, grub, and, best of all, games," he said excitedly. I nodded as I got in the car with him. The synthetic smell of maple and brown sugar bombarded me uncomfortably.

"Dude, do you have to have the most obnoxious air freshener?" I teased.

Jacob laughed before saying, "Oh, so you insult my taste, huh? Well, what if I were to tell you that shirt is terrible?" He teased back.

I smiled and responded, "Nope, you can't hurt me. I'm too excited—I've been watching them for so long, so finally going to see Core-A in person seems sick."

"Me too," he said as he started his car.

When he went to shift gears he gave a weird look and then said something odd, "Oh, one thing—don't be mad," he said.

I raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Arin is going to be there," Jacob responded, and I died a little inside.

I groaned. "Is it too late for me not to go?"

"Dude, she's a 5'5'' girl. You'll be fine, Mr. Legendary Spell Fencer," Jacob reassured me. I scratched my hair nervously, thinking about possible outs.

"I don't know, the last time we met, we yelled at each other for two hours," I said.

"I remember—you guys sounded like an old married couple... Maybe that's it. Maybe you two like each other, but your minds misattribute the attraction with spite. Maybe the two of you just need to kiss, and the wires will be crossed correctly," Jacob suggested as he drove off, sealing my fate.

I rolled my eyes and confidently explained, "There is no way."

Jacob hesitated as if remembering something. "Well, remember how the first time you guys fought, afterward you were all hot and bothered thinking about her for two weeks? It was also weird because you would say all these nice things about her like 'How could someone so compassionate and smart be so damn pig-headed and boorish? I hate that vexing bitch.' You know, weirdly flirty stuff," Jacob said teasingly. I looked at him with an "Are you serious?" look. He laughed, of course.

"Hey, it's just a theory," he finished.

After that, for the most part, we rode in silence until we reached Core-A's studio and the location of the party. We got out of Jacob's baby blue VW Beetle, which he lovingly referred to as the "Love Bug" (which I believe is copyrighted, but I could be wrong). We walked into the purple venue, though the atmosphere breathed competition without the sweaty smell. The air was chilled to a comfortable level as we filed in along with a few others.

"Ah, Jac, glad you could make it," a tall Korean man said as he approached us. He hugged Jacob, who smiled, and then the man sized me up.

"You must be Daizohan?" the Korean man asked.

I nodded affirmatively. "I am."

He extended his hand and introduced himself, "Nice to meet you. My name is Gerald Lee."

I couldn't help but grin widely. "I know who you are. I'm a huge fan. I've watched all your channel's videos and loved what you have done, not only for the fighting game community but for competitive communities everywhere," I raved.

Gerald Lee smiled, then said, "Please, then enjoy yourself, make friends, eat, and have fun. I only ask that you be respectful. Some pretty public figures are roaming about who would like their privacy," I nodded in agreement.

"Sure thing, sir," I replied, to which he chuckled before walking away.

Jacob nudged me, pointing out, "Dude, I've never seen you smile that big."

I squinted at him, annoyed. "Jacob, that's one of my heroes."

Jacob laughed at my expense, "I can tell. Now, don't get too excited, but I think they have your favorite over there." I turned to see the familiar loading screen and couldn't contain my excitement. I lifted my hand in anticipation and walked over to the TV. It was exactly what I had hoped for: Tatsunoko VS Capcom. I sat down, feeling nostalgic as I hadn't played the game since childhood. Despite its age and my lack of recent practice, I was instantly transported back to the date of its release, a ten-year-old rediscovering his first fighting game and embarking on a decades-long love affair. I was engrossed in the game when I heard a voice asking,

"Hey, can I play with you?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. Let me just quit this arcade match," I said as I exited my current run-through of the mode.

"I'm surprised you've been so invested; you haven't moved once since sitting here," the voice remarked.

"Well, this is my second favorite game of all time," I explained.

I noticed the voice sitting next to me, intrigued. "Oh, what's the first?"

"Kingdom Hearts II," I replied.

"Oh, I hear a lot about how complicated those games are," the voice said.

I smiled, replying, "Well, they're usually less complicated than life, to be honest." The voice laughed, causing me to smile. It was feminine and pleasant, making me feel like I was at a calming beach.

"This is my first time playing this one, so I don't know how to play. Can you teach me?" the voice asked. I nodded and turned to face her, handing her the controller. Our hands touched, and then our eyes locked, sending my emotions into warp drive.

"Arin?"

"Daizo?"

Arin and I looked at each other with equally confused expressions before she abruptly stood up and said, "Bathroom. Now." I followed her, hoping to avoid a scene. Thankfully, no one saw us enter the furthest one from the party.

Arin and I silently glared at each other until she spoke first, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Um, I was invited by Jacob," I replied.

I watched as Arin rolled her eyes, “Yeah, of course he'd invite you. God, I hate you cameramen sometimes.”

Unaware of the growing feelings within, I gave her the response she wanted, “Damn it, why are you always so mean? Like, what did I do to you?”

Arin rolled her eyes and teased, “You? Please. I'm sorry, but why would I ever be friends with such an attention whore? Did mommy and daddy never give you enough as a child?”

Seeing where this conversation was going, I decided to do something more interesting. I decided to play into her analysis.

“Actually, yes. My parents were consumed with work much of my childhood and had a rigid structure that maintained my physical safety but preyed upon my social and emotional safety as a special needs child, leading to severely stunted emotional and social growth but excellent physical and cognitive growth. This manifested as childhood chasing and severe attention-seeking behaviors. Thankfully, I'm risk-averse enough to have that rein me in from being an absolute menace. Also, if I am attention-seeking, so are you, as often you join me happily in that, as seen by the show we put on for Nagyung’s birthday where we argued for three hours.”

Arin stood there stunned. I watched as she tried to form a response until I got bored and walked away. She grabbed me and said, “Wait, Daizohan (she was using my full name, so I knew she was serious). I am sorry, I didn't know.”

I gave her a kind smile and replied, “It's all good. I also didn't realize until just now when you were talking about it.”

Arin smiled, and that same feeling of a wave washing over me crept up. “Well, now that you know, I expect better from you,” I nodded, and we walked back to Tatsunoko vs. Capcom. While walking, I noticed how pretty Arin was. Like, she was distractingly pretty.

As we walked back, that distraction caused me to walk into a metal pole. Obviously, I fell, but Arin was quick to pick me up and begin scolding me about “staying aware.”

As Arin spoke and droned on and on, my body sent a shiver down my spine before sending a weird impulse to my brain.

“Arin’s stern scolding is kinda of hot; she makes a great and nurturing mother. I should make her a mother,” my brain told me, and I jolted. Arin noticed, and for a moment, the animosity in her eyes dissipated, and I saw something I wasn't expecting: genuine concern.

Arin’s features softened from a disgusted grimace to concerned caution as she said, “Are you okay? You just jumped!” I nodded, standing there dumbfounded. “Good,” she continued, “Hey, don't scare me like that, Daizo.”

In an instant, all that animosity turned into this overwhelming desire to kiss her. Before I knew it, all I could think about besides how pretty her eyes were with her cute glasses was how to go about kissing her. So, I did. At first, it was awkward as Arin was combating similar competing feelings of infatuation and infuriation. After a few seconds though, she joined me in choosing to be infatuated. We broke the kiss and Arin smiled at me and said, “What?”

“Oh nothing just remembering our first time together Arin smiles as we get in her car and drive to Nagyung and Jacob’s place.

While Arin and I were on our way to the meetup, she asked me what I thought Jacob would like for his upcoming birthday.

"Oh, don't worry about that. I already got his drinks, food, and presents handled," I reassured her.

"Good, I know when you're on top of things, you overachieve. I just need to remind you," Arin said, relieved.

"Oh, you never have to remind me of friends. I always show up for them when I can," I replied, which made Arin laugh.

“Hey babe, can I ask you something?” Jacob walked into the living room.

“Sure, what is it, Naggy?”

"Why did you invite Arin and Daizo? They're so gross," Nagyung whined.

Jacob chuckled before replying, "Daizo and Arin are my friends, and while they may be 'gross,' they are good company."

Nagyung sighed, annoyed. "But Jakey, they are obsessed with... that, what did you call it?"

Jacob raised an eyebrow. "The Holy Grail or fighting games?"

"The Holy Grail," Nagyung confirmed.

"Oh, well, yeah. Everyone needs friends who chase the Holy Grail. They show you where you're lacking," Jacob replied.

"What?" Nagyung responded, confused.

"Chasing the Holy Grail means chasing the impossible. Both Arin and Daizo have impossibly large goals, which is probably why they work so well together. But I digress. They are chasing impossible goals for different reasons. For Daizo, it's to see how far he can take himself in this world, and for Arin, it's to prove herself," Jacob explained. Nagyung nodded and then replied,

"But why can't they be satisfied with what they have? They're successful and have a great love life and careers. What more could they want?"

Jacob shrugged as he replied.

About 65 minutes later the couple finishing up cooking lunch.

"Wow, you guys finally made it?" Nagyung said smiling. I gave a thumbs up and Bonsai explained how traffic was terrible for some weird reason.

Arin perked up, "It's mostly because of the rain and the impromptu K-pop festival going on in Hongdae."

"Wait really? (Bonsai turns to Haseul) Why wasn't the best group ARTMS invited," Bonsai said

exaggeratedly. Haseul blushed and smiled as Arin and I both suppressed the urge to say "What are you talking about the best is obviously Oh My Girl,"

Bonsai noted our restraint and smiled, "You know it shows that there are still tickets and they're pretty cheap,"

Arin and I looked at each other before we both said "So it's settled We are all going," The group nodded excitedly as we got up and began prepping for the Concert. We all ordered Tickets and then walked to the venue. On the way, Arin grabbed my hand, "What's up?"

"Nothing just showing everyone who you belong to," She said with a possessive smile,

"Are you jealous?"

"No, I am not the Jealous type but what's mine is mine end of story," Arin said smiling. I smiled back before kissing her forehead.

"Blegh. You guys are so gross," Hyeju says as she notices we haven't moved for a bit. Arin rolls her eyes before grabbing my hand and having us catch up to the others.

We arrived at the festival and its insanely lively fantastic atmosphere despite the gloomy weather. Plenty of Alcohol for everyone except Arin, plus me, and several acts we were more than excited to see. We decided to start with H1-Key as they were the next act. (We probably should have gotten food in hindsight but it's not that big a deal.) As H1-Key performed many of their hits Arin and I danced to music, as did our friends (At one point Nagyung was twerking on Jacob which was always hilarious). when the weather dropped to a colder temperature we moved less to conserve heat but still sang along. Arin nestled herself in my jacket to stay warm due to our size difference. After that act, We decided to get food and stopped by the nearby Ramyeon place. We all congregated around a pretty big table which allowed us to stay near our partners but also be in decent positions to talk to everyone.

Arin put her hand in mine as we watched our friends. "So Daizo how much longer are you here for?" Haseul asked.

I looked to Tobi for confirmation he held up the number three letting me know I had three weeks left

"Oh three weeks left," I answered. Subtly I noticed Arin tightening her grip on me. I turn to her and clarify, "I will be back though,"

"Oh, when," Nagyung asked.

"Uh probably in the second half of the year, around September," I replied.

Arin‘s grip softened, and I looked at her before saying, “Don't worry I'll be back,”

After we finished we went back to the festival and enjoyed the rest of the acts.

We got back from the impromptu festival around midnight I want to say, and on the way back to Jacob's place we were stopped by a lady, She stood at the precipe of a crosswalk. She is holding a massive sword and she says,

"If one of you can land a hit on me; I will give you a massive prize." My friends all look at each other and then at me to stop me but I'm already walking to the lady.

“So I just gotta land one hit?” I ask

“Yes,” the lady responds

“Any other rules? Stipulations?” I add

“Nope give it all you got,” the lady says with a pleased smile.

“Okay! Let's do it.” I reply. Arin grabs my hand and says

“Go get em,” I smile and reply

“God I love you,” Arin beams and I turn to the lady. I summon my spell sword and get in a combat-ready stance. The lady smiles before taking out a needle and syringe. She injects herself and I watch as her eyes begin to glow. I stand guard as she also gets ready. I blink and in an instant, she is at my throat. I block her blade and disarm her by throwing both our blades away.

Taking advantage of her staggered and uneven stance I grapple her and throw her to the ground. As she lands I get one quick strike to her arm. She smiles,

“A thief with honor.” the lady says as I help her up. I notice her skin is a magenta color and she only has one eye. She smiles at me before saying, “Congratulations,” and everything goes dark.

When I wake up I am on a floor mat with Arin sitting above me. I sit up and Arin Jolts.

"Where am I," I ask.

"Babe relax," Arin says hearing my heart race

"Okay," I say as she has me slow my breathing.

"There has been a bad situation,"

"What is it?" I ask

"Look," Arin says sadly

I look at what she has gestured at and see my home planet shattered and exploded. I breathe in and out slowly processing what I am seeing, I turn to Arin and she grabs me tightly before saying, "It will be okay Daizo."

I had only one question on my mind, "who did this?"

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #male reader #olivia hye #fromis9 nagyung #oh my girl arin

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ilguna · 8 months

Note

I love your work! Could I please get #17 of list 2 with Haymitch? I was thinking it could be a nightmare from the games or going into the reaping for the 75th? Thank you 💜

☼ history repeats itself (Haymitch Abernathy) ☼

warnings; swearing, death mention, alcohol use.

wc; 1.6k

prompt; 17. "Hey, listen to me. You're safe. Nothing is going to hurt you."

—

The last time Haymitch was himself was the night of the reading of the card for the Third Quarter Quell, which happened in the winter. He hasn’t been the same person since, but you weren’t really expecting him to be.

The horror that President Snow presented in front of the entirety of Panem had shook him, and every other victor across the country that thought they were safe. You remember sitting with him in silence on the couch. When you looked at him, it was clear to you that he was slipping away.

It hadn’t even been five minutes since the news reached your ears.

Haymitch stood up from the couch without a word, walking from the living room into the kitchen. You didn’t have to turn around to know what he was about to do. You couldn’t blame him, either. You didn’t even think to hold it against him.

He slammed open the window, you jumped at the noise, and he muttered an apology. The first breeze that came through was nice, it seemed to calm the warmth that had crossed your skin. You looked over to find him pulling a bottle of white liquor out of the cupboard, reaching to open it.

There was a series of hard knocks on the door, you got to your feet to answer it, but it was already swinging open. It was Peeta, a string of apologies leaving his lips for barging in. In the next breath, he was addressing Haymitch, and it wasn’t for what you’d thought it would be.

Peeta started to beg Haymitch to allow him to go inside of the arena again. He didn’t want Haymitch to interfere, to let the reaping run its course. He said that if Haymitch were drawn, he’d volunteer. But if he was drawn, Haymitch wasn’t allowed to lift a finger. He wanted to go back into the arena if it meant that Katniss would be.

You watched as Haymitch cracked the seal on the bottle, taking a long drink of it, before walking over to the dining room table to set it down. “I’m not going to make any deals, Peeta.”

It started out as them talking civilly, and then it began to fade into an argument. With Peeta telling Haymitch that since he protected Katniss the first time around, that meant he owed Peeta. Anything. And Peeta wanted a chance to go into the arena again.

By the time Peeta left, Haymitch was a quarter of the way through his bottle. When Katniss showed up, he was halfway in, drunk. You were sitting at the table with him, asking him if there was any way he could get out of this. You knew what the answer was already, you were just hoping it wasn’t true.

He did what he always does with Katniss—antagonize her. He asked her if she was there to ask him to go back inside of the arena for Peeta. She denied it and sat down with you two, drinking from his bottle. And then, instead of suggesting for him to volunteer, she said she wanted Peeta to be saved from the arena, no matter the situation.

It was only when Haymitch agreed to this, did she leave. The next day, Peeta came by and dumped all of the liquor in the house down the drain. He told you that neither you or Haymitch were allowed to buy it from Ripper down at the Hob—not that he thought you would, anyway.

If you’re being honest, you thought that his whole plan to get Haymitch to train alongside him and Katniss would last a few weeks at best. It wasn’t until the three of them started to show signs of improvement, did you believe that Haymitch wasn’t going to slip back into his habits.

Still, his attitude about the situation hasn’t changed in the past six months, and it’s grown worse over the past week, leading up to today. When you woke up this morning, you were expecting him to say anything about the reaping that will be taking place in the matter of hours. Instead, he pulled himself out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

You’ve kept a close eye on him all morning, something you’re sure he doesn’t appreciate very much. You don’t know what else to do. You tried to pretend like everything was alright, when he picked up on it, he asked you to stop. Every attempt you make at conversation falls short.

It’s like he wants to revel in the doom cloud above him. And who are you to tell him otherwise? If you were in his place, you’re sure you’d do the same. He’s the first victor of District Twelve, and he was a tribute in the last Quarter Quell. If there’s anyone that’s earned a right to silence this morning, it’s him.

That doesn’t mean it’s any easier to see him this way.

“Are you almost ready?” Haymitch asks.

You look into the mirror to see where he’s standing, finding that he’s in the bathroom doorway. You tilt your head to the side as you slide the earring into place. “Almost.”

He nods, turning his body halfway to leave, and then he changes his mind. He leans against the frame, head tilted downward to look at the ground. He’s dressed nicely, considering the situation. You’re even able to see the muscles that he’s built up from training. The only thing he’s missing is his blazer, but if he doesn’t have it in his hands already, that means he’s not planning on bringing it.

“I wish I could go with you.” You tell him, rising from your stool in front of the mirror.

Haymitch’s eyes snap up. “No, you don’t, (Y/n).”

“If it means that you don’t leave me, I do.” You close the drawers, and then begin to walk in his direction.

“You��re safer here.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.” You murmur. “I’m ready.”

He lets your comment slide, not wanting to fight. The two of you leave his Victor home, going down the steps. He shuts the door behind him and doesn’t stop to lock it. Usually, you’d say something about it, but you’ll be coming back here after you bid him goodbye at the train station. You’ll have the house to yourself for the next few weeks while the Victor’s battle it out in an arena.

You barely make it out of the neighborhood before you’re pulling his hand into yours, squeezing tightly. He glances in your direction, you catch it out of the corner of your eye. Your head is facing the other way, not wanting him to see your face, and the frown that’s struggling to settle on your mouth. You won’t let it.

What you’re feeling is selfishness and guilt. You hope that Haymitch gets his name drawn first, and you hope that Peeta goes through with volunteering. You don’t want today to be your last day with him. You want him to go to the Capitol as a mentor so that you’ll be able to see him again.

This isn’t fair.

The walk to the Justice Building from Victor’s Village only takes a few minutes. From a distance, you can see the crowd that has gathered around the stage. This year, since there is no giant pool of young teenagers, it’s doubled in size.

Haymitch stops you, letting out a shaky breath.

You raise your eyebrows, eyes watching his face. He presses his lips together, breathing quicker, eyes locked on the stage.

“Hey, listen to me.” You squeeze his hand. “You’re safe, nothing is going to hurt you.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about, (Y/n).” He tells you. “I don’t want to lose you, the same way I lost them.”

Your face twists, confused for a moment, until it dawns on you. You haven’t been with Haymitch for long, only about two and a half years now. You’ve seen who he was before Katniss and Peeta, and heard his mindset because of what President Snow did to him.

In the beginning of your relationship, it felt like he was doing everything in his power to hide his history from you. It wasn’t because he was ashamed of it, he just wasn’t prepared for your reaction when he told you all of it. You knew the basics, the stuff everyone knows about his Games.

It was the aftermath of it that was hidden.

At the end of his Games, the Career girl had thrown her axe at him, and Haymitch collapsed because of the wound on his stomach, causing her to miss. The axe flew over the cliff, but came shooting back up, lodging in her skull.

Supposedly, they saw this act from Haymitch as one of rebellion. He was crowned Victor, and two weeks later, his mom, younger brother and girlfriend were all killed in retaliation. He tells you that he tried to put an effort into mentoring, but it was hard to exist everyday without aid. When he figured that he was never going to get a winning tribute, he turned to drinking, and stopped trying altogether.

This is what he must’ve been thinking about all morning.

You pull Haymitch in by your hands to hug him. He places his face in your neck, breathing in deeply.

“You’re not going to lose me. I’m going to be right here when you get back, Haymitch.” You tell him. “They can’t take me away from you.”

“I’ll be back, (Y/n).” He pulls you closer.

“I know.”

this is part of my 3k celebration!! you can join until the cure is released on Oct, 31st at midnight!!

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cat-toess · 9 months

Text

❀ LOVESICK PT.2 ❀

Summary ✄: In which, Lyney finally decides to do something about his massive crush on you with the encouragement of his siblings.

✄ Part one here!: Lovesick part 1

Tags ✄: fluff, friends to lovers, mid-length (sort of) gn!reader (intended, I sincerely apologize if not, please message me if you find any mistakes in terms of this topic! I will do my best to improve my writing :D)

✄ Notes: This was so delayed 💀 And for once in my life my delulu brain had no more delusions to feed my stories with, so I was stuck for a while on the plot... But it turned out good in the end (?) LYNEY IS SUCH A SIMP. AND I'M NEVER LETTING THAT IDEA GO OUT OF MY HEAD

If you want you can listen to any Laufey song while reading this! (That's what I was listening to while creating this-)

P.S: I will be revising this even after this has been published, so if you find any grammatical errors then it might be fixed the next time you check <3 might even add paragraphs- so if you want, make sure to check in regularly!

✄ Ft. Lynette and Freminet's pain and suffering

It’s been precisely a week since the very memorable encounter at the café with Lyney. And honestly Lynette thinks she can’t take another millisecond of her brother's endless rambles about how you ‘gently pulled him up, like he was fragile glass.’ And how ‘you two were about to kiss’

This had been going on for around 7 days, 20 minutes and 15 seconds. A good test of her patience, Lynette thinks to herself.

Now even gentle and ever calm Freminet was staring to run away as soon a Lyney came anywhere from 2 to 5 meters near him. Just so he could avoid getting another earful about how ‘your presence could light up the whole of Fontaine”

It was getting unbearable for both Lynette and Freminet. They both constantly ate dinner in terror, and carefully selected their words, making sure to not make even the slightest gesture that could remind Lyney of your encounter with him.

One time Lynette made the awful mistake of brining up Cafe Lucerene at the dinner table.

Lynette was only half-way through finishing her sentence but Lyney was already talking.

“Oh I could never forget that cafe, it’s the place where me and my darling Y/N met, who knows maybe we’ll get married there!” Lyney dreamily sighs, resting his chin on the palm of his hand.

Lynette could only look apologetically to Freminet, who was close to a mental breakdown. And truth be told, Lynette was too. All the (sane) siblings could do was pray that this ramble ended short.

They were sorely mistaken if they thought Lyney’s conversations about you would ever end short.

Lyney ended up filling up 2 notebooks, full of wedding plans. All while he forced Lynette and Freminet to stay and discuss the flowers, the design of the wedding clothes, guests and even the date on which your wedding would take place. (He said February 14th, because what better day to be wed than the day of romance and love?)

“I don’t think I can take all this ranting for much longer” Lynette groans, rubbing her forehead, trying to relive the pounding headache she had from losing too much sleep, due to Lyney keeping her up to vent all his delusions to her. Lucky Freminet, she thought to no one in particular, he was able to avoid Lyney last night. (Not like he was in any better shape though)

“Me too, maybe there’s a solution to this?” Poor Freminet, he looked like a walking corpse. His movements dull and his mouth hanging open, like his soul was going to pop out of it and accend to celestia any minute now.

“Yeah, and some how make Lyney shut up about ‘the love of his life’ for one second? Fat chance” Lynette grumbled.

Freminet stared at his sister, trying to think of someway to solve their problems. All while Lyney angrily stirred a cup of tea.

“Wait, if Lyney likes Y/N then wouldn’t all his ranting stop if he dates them?” Freminet says, deep in thought.

“Huh? Wouldn’t that just increase the topics he can use to torment us with?” Lynette questions, finishing her tea in one violent gulp.

“Well, maybe if they started dating, he would focus on complimenting them directly instead of picking us as his unfortunate victims? It’s worth a shot right?”

“I suppose… though the chance of them reciprocating his feelings are close to none, at least he talks to them often…” Lynette scoffs as she adds a sugar cube to her custom design deep turquoise tea cup.

“Right, we should try to convince him to ask Y/N on a date at dinner today. Maybe that’ll give us enough time to get some rest…” Freminet mumbles rubbing his nose bridge.

Poor Y/N, thought Lynette. Her spine exploding with shivers the moment she thought about what you would have to deal with if you got together with that brother of hers.

Oh well, maybe you’d like it?

——

It was dinner, the atmosphere was stiff and tense. Like someone had to say something (which was true) The only thing that could be heard was the small clinks of cutlery on plates.

Freminet nods at Lynette to signal the start of their plan. Lynette gives a small thumbs up to Freimiet as he gets ready to confront his older brother to hopefully stop the endless rambling.

”So Lyney, we wanted to talk about Y/N-“ Freminet nervously says.

“Oh? Why didn’t you say so earlier? I caught a glimpse of them today in the opera house, and they were as stunning as ever-“ If he wasn’t cut off by Lynette, who knows how long he would have went on for?

“Oh for crying out loud Lyney! We’re here to talk about when you’re going to ask them out!” Lynette yells out while violently stabbing the meat steak on her plate. Her final string of sanity snapping. Her usually tranquil self no where to be seen. Perhaps it was because the hours of lost sleep.

“What Lynette means to say, is that we encourage you to ask them out.” Freminet corrects while coughing into his fist. Praying that the rest of their plan would go smoothly.

“Huh? Really? You think they’ll say yes?” Lyney says, voice barely above a whisper. The mere thought of you and him being an item makes his heart rapidly beat against his ribcage, his hands fidgeting and mind restless.

Now if usually if Lynette saw her brother in a state like this, then new blackmail material would be collected. No questions asked.

But under these circumstances Lynette couldn’t care less about black mail. Not with her sanity (and Freminet’s) on the line.

“Then if I may ask , could you two help me to-“ Lyney says

“No!” Freminet shouts, jumping up from his seat. Lyney surprised to see his brother like this quirks a brow at him, as if to silently ask if anything was wrong.

“I mean, we think that it would be better if you planned it on your own. That way it’ll be more heartfelt because you did it yourself, right Lynette?” He Hurriedly says as Lynette furiously shakes her head up and down.

“I suppose so…thank you for always supporting me Lynette, Fremi, I don’t know what I would do without you two.” (I’m convinced that Lyney calls Freminet “Fremi” Fight me) Lyney beamed as he started to clean up the dishes and put them into the sink (do they have sinks in Fontaine? ) “Well I’m going to head up first and plan the date, after all, it has to be absolutely perfect!” Lyney gushed as he darted up the stairs, but then he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. “Oh I forgot to say but, I’ll leave the dishes to you Lynette!” He called, as he started running up the stairs again.

“But it’s your turn to wash the dishes…” Lynette voice dies down in the middle as she realizes her brother is already gone, probably blushing and kicking his feet while planning whatever strange plan he was going to use to wiggle into your heart. Though Lynette doubted he could, not with that face. With a heavy sigh she goes to the kitchen to do the dishes, wishing that the dishes would magically be already be done by the time she arrived to the sink. No such luck.

If he pulled this sort of stunt again, Lynette was more than happy to tell you that her brother had two moles and a scar on his left butt cheek that resembled a smiley face.

——

Lyney had been thinking about ways to ask you out all night. The result? A bunch of crumbled pieces of paper overflowing his rooms trash can and a pair of heavy dark circles under his eyes.

Inviting you to a romantic candle lit dinner and make it rain red roses? “No, too corny” he thinks as he shakes his head. Maybe you’d like it if he simply sent you a letter with a confession in it? No that was too basic, at least for Lyney’s liking.

A groan escapes his lips, as he scratches out the possibility of the other ideas being successful.

He tries to recall every time you’ve talked to each other. But all he can remember was you describing a dream where you went on a date with some mystery guy in a field of marcotte’s on top of a cliff where you could clearly see the sea. He also vividly recalls you saying how much you would love to go on a date like that…

Wait! He could use that dream!

He silently scolds himself in his mind, wondering how he hand’t thought of this before.

Well if this didn’t work he’ll always have plan 235XI-2A to back him up!

(Or his third personal favorite, 682BS-5J)

———

Now all he had to do was ask you out. He was deep in thought, trying to come up with a place you might be. He’s checked the Opera house and the shopping district. Where else could you possibly be?

Until suddenly he feels a soft tap on his shoulder.

“Gha!” Lyney screeches, jumping back, almost like a surprised cat. (You know, when the cats suddenly see a cucumber behind them while they’re eating and just like 2 meters.)

“Sorry, did I give you a scare?” You chuckle as you hold your hand to your mouth, desperately trying to suppress the laugh in your throat.

The magician looks composed now on the outside but really, he’s convinced that his heart is beating at a 100 miles per hour.

“Well, if it isn’t the ever charming Y/N” he tries to play it off cool, and succeeds but if you listen closely enough you could hear the slight waver in his voice.

“Oh drop the compliments, we’re close enough to address each other casually right?” You dramatically sight, feigning hurt as you put your hand up to your forehead. Like a lead actor about to faint.

“But anyway, what brings you here?” You say switching your tone to a firmer one.

“I actually came here to find you.” He says, taking in a deep breath to hopefully calm his nerves.

“Really? Whatever did I do to deserve the audience of the great magician of Fontaine.” You joke, clapping your hands together. “Is it Lynette? Did she want more tea-“

“Iacctuallywantedtoaskyouonadate-“ His rushed words go through your left ear and fall right through your right ear.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Lyney slow down. I couldn’t grasp a single word you just said.” You tell him, his earlier sentence sounding more like a cursed language more than anything.

You notice that his face is flushed in a deep shade of crimson out of embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, what I meant to say is, I was wondering if you were free this afternoon?” He says coughing into his fist, finally mustering up the courage to say something to cover up his mistake.

Now it’s your turn to get flustered, because as soon as he says that you’re getting butterflies in your stomach. Your mind blanks out for a second, all rational thoughts exiting your brain. The only thing you can hear at the moment is the loud thumping of your heart.

You somehow get a response out of your mouth, mirraculaously you didn’t stumble over your words!

“Sure, dose 4 sound good to you?” You inquire, pulling out your pocket sized planner, double checking if you had any other plans for the evening.

“Sounds good to me. I’ll pick you up at your house?” Lyney says timidly. Thanking all of the gods above and their grandmothers that you had accepted his date offer.

“Mhm, I’m all right with that. See you then I guess?” You say as you start to head back, craining your neck backwards a little to give a small wave to Lyney.

“Yeah.” Lyney says, standing there and waving at you like a fool. Slightly dazed still processing the fact that his long time crush, the person that he was hopelessly in love with was going on a date with him in 3 hours.

———

The sun was setting, and you were in your room, waiting for a certain blonde to knock on your door. The ticking of your clock seems to be mocking your eagerness.

It had just turned 4, and as if right on cue you hear a soft know on your brich door.

Practically sprinting towards the door, you skid through the halls of your home and swing the door open.

Lyney was, dressed in a plain ruffled dress shirt, paired with a harness made of black leather. His pants of course, were black too, simple with no designs in it. Topped off with simple black laced boots. It was weird to see him without his signature hat. Of course, it goes without saying Lyney looked good in his usual magician attire, but change is always welcome.

“Ready to go?” He asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah, It’s just that seeing you without your hat is a little odd, but nice odd. You know?” You muse, trailing your eyes over his figure.

In response to that Lyney lets out a merry chuckle.

“Before we go, can you put this blindfold on?” He asks, holding up a blindfold.

You look at the magician suspiciously and quirk a brow at him. “You’re not going to kidnap me right?” Slightly nervous about the whole surprise thing.

“Of course not! I just want to keep the inaction a surprise.” He says giving you a little comforting pat on the shoulder.

“Well, I suppose it’s all right. But I’m running away at the first sign of danger okay?” You sigh, reluctantly letting Lyney’s slender fingers tie the black silky blindfold over your eyes.

“No peaking, okay?” He purrs as he tugs on your arm.

——

After a while of walking and talking Lyney halts to a stop.

“We’re here.” He hums as he slowly unties the blindfold.

It takes you a moment to adjust to your surroundings, since you had been blindfolded for like, what? 6 minutes?

But as soon as your surroundings come into focus, the scene in front of you literally steals your breathe away.

“You did all this for me” You gasp, looking around the venue which Lyney had guided you too. “Ta-da.” He sheepishly says, while softly scratching the back of his head. You two were in a felid of marcotte’s, the grass sways with every soft caress of the wind. Soon you noticed the meadow was located on a cliff, and below was the deep and ever beautiful ocean of Fontaine. The tidalga’s littered benethe made the ocean’s surface appear as if thousands of blue lights were iluminating the area.

The wind was strong but not too strong, the mixed scent of the salty sea and the sweet aroma of the marcotte flowers smelled heavenly. You looked up to the Colbat blue sky. You could clearly see the stars, each star shining with a brilliant yellow. Under the delicate light of the moonlight, Lyney though you never looked more dreamy. For a moment you stood their in disbelief, it was as if this date was pulled straight from your dreams. The dream that you had told Lyney about. It was perfect.

“I don’t even know what to say… It’s remarkable Lyney. I can’t believe that you remember me talking about my dream” You gush, as you feel the uncontrollable smile etching itself on your lips.

“What’s a magician without his fair share of surprises?” Lyney chuckles as he hops over to you.

A comfortable silence envelopes the two of you. The waves splashing quietly in the background.

“You know, I actually invited you here to confess something to you…” Lyney bashfully says, his body restless as he prays to the heavens that this would go well.

“Really? What is it” You say, as you tilt your head to the side.

Why was his voice stuck in his throat? What was he doing? He practiced his lines millions if not billions of times in front of the mirror, so why couldn’t he do it now?

You stare at him with a perplexed expression while leaning forward. As if you were eager to hear his confession.

Oh screw the script, this magician’s improvising.

“When I first met you, I was enamored by your laugh, your voice and no matter how much I thought on how to confess to you, no words could come close to describing how I truly feel for you.” Lyney paused for a moment to put together his thoughts for one moment. Trying to think of a worthy phrase to describe his undying adoration for you. He takes a deep breath in as he continues “If I had a flower for every time I had thought of you, I would only have one. Because not once have I stopped thinking about you since the day we met. I understand if you don’t reciprocate my feelings, yet my mind keeps lingering back to the thoughts of you and me together.” The words from his mouth spill over like a waterfall, genuine and poetic language flying towards you left and right.

“So, Y/N L/N, will you please accept my feelings?” He imagined the confession to be smooth and romantic, he promised himself to be calm and cool. Yet, here he was, face flushed and breathing irregular. Eagerly waiting for an answer. He curses himself for looking like an absolute idiot around you.

In reality, it’s only been a few seconds, but to Lyney it felt like an eternity. His pupils flying on ever direction, his plans already clammy from the anxiety.

“I would be delighted to” You beam, taking his hand in yours.

“Really?” He says, eyes practically turning into stars, you could swear that they turned all glittery for one second.

“Yes really” You smile, laughing at the usually suave and confident magician's expression. An expression you’ll probably remember for the rest of your life.

You could audibly hear the loud sigh of relief he let out when you confirmed your answer.

The two of you continue to stare at each other for a good minute. Then all of a sudden Lyney lets out a little snort. Then you chuckle a little. Before you know it, the meadow is filled with lively laughter. The two of you chasing each other over the rolling green grass, like a pair of idiots. Twirling each other around like one would in a royal ball. Giggles and snickers flowing through the surrounding area.

Even better, the two of you acted out multiple of your favorite scenes in operas. One of them being the all-time famous Titanic pose (pretend titanic exists for the sake of my heart) Only problem being you nearly falling off the edge of the cliff and letting out a blood-curdling scream that sent the birds in the area desperately flapping their wings to find someplace that was maybe… less chaotic.

Time flies when you’re with someone you like they say, turns out that old saying is true. Because by the time you both knew it, it was already 10PM

Exhausted, you both flop on the grass, face up to the shimmering stars. Intertwining fingers together both of you deicide to rest a little.

“You know, you remind me of the moon.” Lyney suddenly says as he points to the glowing moon, breaking the silence.

“Mhm, why is that?” You question, looking at Lyney with curious eyes.

“If you're the moon, then I’ll gladly be your tide, for I will forever flow under your command. Following your ever wish and will. For you are my purpose, are you not?” Lyney hums, you hate how he can say something so… romantic (?) so casually.

“You’re so corny.” You sarcastically sigh, rolling your eyes.

“But you love this corny guy right?”

How could you say no to that face?

———

Now by the time the cackling had settled down, the suns light was long gone and instead a pitch black darkness had replaced it.

So being the gentleman Lyney is, he offered to walk you home.

The two of you started talking about

“Ah, we’re here now.” You say, a small amount of sadness laced in your voice. "Well I have to go now, have a safe trip back home." You sigh disappointed that the date had already ended.

“Oh! Before I forget.. here.” Lyney magically makes a marcotte flower appear in his hands with a snap of his fingers.

“Think of it like a souvenir of our first date.” He giggled, twirling his hair. He seems somehow happier then you, even though you’re the one receiving the flower (?)

Well that’s Lyney for you, I guess.

“Lyney, is this from the field that we went to? “ You say happily, spinning the vermilion and yellow colored flower between your fingers.

“Maybe.” He says while throwing in a playful wink.

You slowly open your door and just as about you’re about to go inside you look back.

“I’ll be looking forward to our next date pretty boy.” You say pulling him in for a little peck on the cheek. (Y/N mega rizzler arc coming soon?!)

Just a moment ago you were the one being all shy, now Lyney’s here too stunned to speak. The combination of your lips on his cheek and that pet name? He swears you’ll be the death of him one day.

You give him a little wave, before closing the door behind you with a click.

Now if it were any normal person, they would just go home and celebrate their successful date. Celebrate the fact that they didn’t get brutally rejected.

But no, this is Lyney.

He ended up standing in front of your door for 15 minutes, just stroking the place where you had kissed him.

He makes a mental note to put a bag over his cheek for the next few days.

Call him unhygienic but hey, love can make one blind right?

“Hey mom, look! There’s a guy standing in front of Y/N’s house!” A child passing by shouts, pointing at Lyney.

“Shhh! Don’t look! We’ll report it to the melusines later…” The mother whispers as she ushers her son away from Lyney.

Yeah, he should probably head home soon before anyone else mistakes him for a creepy stalker.

——

Lyney walks home with a dopey little grin on his face, he opens the door to his house and swings the door open. Kicking his shoes off, he hurriedly runs to the living room where his siblings were most likely having dinner, feet practically skidding to a halt when he reaches to his destination.

“Hey guess what-“ Lyney says his voice bubbling with excitement to tell his siblings about the successful confession (that he had spent days planning)

“I’m sorry” Lynette says without looking up from her food.

“What?” Lyney stands still for a few seconds as he tilts his head owlishly.

“They rejected you right?” Lynette says as she takes a bite out of her mashed potatoes.

“Uh no?” Lyney says visibly confused.

“See I told you, that’s 50,000 mora Lynette.” Freminet sighs, standing up from the dinner table and trudging away to his room.

“Damn it… I was so sure…” Lynette mutters as her cat tail droops down. Standing up and obviously looking disappointed, she puts her dishes away, walking back up stairs.

“Wait? Lynnette? Fremi? 50,000 mora? Your eldest demands an explanation! Hey answer me!” Lyney says as he franticly looks around, only to be met with silence…

That is until Lynette pops her head from the stair case with a devilish expression her face.

“I’ll leave the dishes to you Lyney” She snickers as she hurries away,leaving Lyney to himself grumbling about how “he isn’t respected enough in this household” and that “it was Lynettes turn to do the dishes” But he finds himself a blushing mess all over again when he recalls the events of tonight.

Yeah, you probably shouldn’t tell him that you made the marcotte he gave you into a dry flower. Or else he might combust…

❀ a/n: GARRHHHH, this took so long. I apologize for the wait! Thank you so much for your support in part 1! I hope you enjoy this as much as you enjoyed part 1! Heads up to those who want to request anything please check my navigation to find my requests page!

Some of my other posts with Lyney...

❁ Lyney Hcs

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lambtotheslaughterr · 3 months

Text

I Burn : Part One

A Rafe Cameron Mini Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 3.6k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

MASTERLIST | PART TWO

Summary: Reader is reluctantly placed into a rehabilitation faciity for individuals who struggle with their various addictions. She has low expectations of the facility & even lower expectations of herself to improve, especially when she catches the attention of fellow patient Rafe Cameron… her addiction to sex just became that much harder.

The last two weeks had been hell. Literally.

Your parents, disturbed & distraught with you after your latest tryst, were desperate to get you help. But you were convinced they just wanted you out of their sight & the public’s eye. So, two weeks ago, your parents took to driving you two hours into the Virginian woods to leave you in the care of doctors & nurses who would help you with your…problem.

Of course, you were in denial. You were nineteen years old, it was normal for you to enjoy sex & the like. But after the first week of group & one-on-one therapy, you learned to admit that perhaps you did have an issue. But admitting to having an addiction didn’t give you hope that you would get better, or change. Two weeks in & you masturbated daily, starving for a man’s hands, lips, & cock. Any man’s.

You often fantasized about your therapist. His name was Dr. Mooney. You didn’t discriminate. He was in his 40’s, handsome with graying hair & a salt & pepper beard. The glasses he wore only influenced your fantasies. The wedding band on his left ring finger didn’t bother you, he wouldn’t be the first married man you’d been with. But he was also the one who told you that your dismissive nature was problematic, opened your eyes to your addiction.

Currently, you were on your daily mindfulness walk in the woods with the other addicts in your group. Most everyone kept to themselves, yourself included. The topic you were to reflect on had to do with this morning’s group discussion: functioning with your addiction. Dr. Mooney released you four of you with a few questions to ask yourself on your walk.

How did addiction affect your work, school, personal lives? What does overcoming your addiction look like? How does it change your life? The lives of those who have been affected by you? Is it a life you want?

It was your least favorite aspect about being admitted to rehab—not that you had a favorite aspect. But you loathed that all questions you were asked since your admittance required thoughtful answers. You couldn’t just answer yes or no. You were forced to reflect, to give a shit.

Instead, you found yourself having come across a creek near to the facility. You made the small & quick descent to the water, removing your socks & shoes to dip your feet in. It was cold, but not enough to deter you. You sat there, your toes wriggling just beneath the surface. The sensation sent a tingling sensation up your spine. You bit your lip, sighing.

Dr. Mooney would be displeased that instead of asking yourself the discussion questions, you were growing as wet as the creek before you. Frustratingly so. The others were not nearby. You would be quick.

Reaching into the band of your sweat shorts, you grazed your fingers over your throbbing pussy. A low mewl escaped you, full of want. You were already soaking. You lied on your back, the loose rocks digging into your skin, but they only added to the images running rampant in your head.

You pictured Dr. Mooney across the creek, watching you, the reflection of you pleasing yourself in his glasses. His lips were moving, the light breeze of the trees carrying his voice over to you.

Lick your fingers, _____. Suck on them for me.

You did, moaning as you tasted yourself before placing your fingers back over your tender bundle of nerves.

Show me how you want me to fuck you.

A gasp parted your lips as you gingerly stuck two fingers inside yourself, immediately encased in the wet, warmth of your center.

Let me see those tits. I want to see what I’m missing out.

Your other hand was quick to pull down the front of your tank top, your nipples hardening due to the sudden exposure. You rubbed your thumb over your nipple as you fucked yourself with your fingers. The squelching sounds of your desire battled with that of the trickling creek. Then you heard it.

Dr. Mooney’s moans. You often imagined what he sounded like when he fucked his wife, how he would sound better fucking you. His breathy moans were in your ear, decidedly pleased with the feel of you clinging to his cock. The scratchiness of his beard bristled against your neck, causing your body to shudder.

“I want to fuck this cunt.” He wrapped his hand around the wrist in between your legs, making your hand move faster.

“Please.” You begged, a strangled cry caught in your throat.

“What do you want?” There was a hint of a smile in his voice.

“You.”

“But you can’t have me.” He cooed. A wet sensation covered your nipple, you dug the fingers of your free hand into the loose rocks, pushing your chest into the mouth of your therapist.

“I need you.” You huffed, “I need you to make me cum.”

“Tch, tch, tch.” He nuzzled into your neck, his grip on your wrist growing firmer as he sped up. “You’re a naughty girl.”

You whined, clinging to your own fingers as they stroked the flames of your building orgasm.

“You’re close.” He whispered, observant as always. “Show me what I could have.”

You flicked your thumb across your clit & the wave of pleasure crashed over you. A muffled scream sounded as you pressed your lips together to hide your shameful lust. Your cum coated your fingers as you came down. Finally you opened your eyes.

Your chest was heaving as you caught your breath. You glanced around your surroundings. Alone. No Dr. Mooney. You exhaled, annoyed. Getting to your knees, you readjusted your clothing & washed off the evidence of your misdeed in the water. Dr. Mooney would be disappointed if you told him how you spent your mindfulness hour. Perhaps you would say nothing. But the thought of him knowing you were getting off in the woods to the thought of him would give him something to get off to himself. A coy smirk tugged on the corner of your lips.

Putting your socks & shoes back on, you began ascending the small hill before coming back to the trail that led to the facility. You were about to head back towards the building when a figure hidden among the trees just off the trail surprised you. You immediately rolled your eyes.

Renee stood there, her arms crossed over her chest, “You’re filthy.”

“Good thing we have showers in our room.” You countered, uncaring that she saw.

“Dr. Mooney is going to be disappointed.” Those words forced you to scowl.

“Shut up, Renee.” You bit, prepared to stomp away from her, “At least I don’t look disgusting.”

Renee was a cocaine addict. Her ashen skin & the bags under her eyes were only a few physical signs of her withdrawal. She sneered at you.

“Nympho.” She insulted as you passed by her.

“Coke-whore.” You threw back.

Leaving her behind in the woods, you fast walked through the woods. You wanted to shower before yoga, Renee’s words embedding themselves into your skin.

Yoga was futile. Especially with Renee on a mat behind you. You felt her eyes boring into your back the whole session.

Dinner was better, to say the least. You took your plate of grilled cheese & bowl of tomato soup to a table in the corner of the room by the windows. Other patients in the room sat & ate by themselves. There were at least fifteen patients, only three of them in your group. At a table opposite of you, Renee picked at her food, grumbling to another patient sitting near her. You rolled your eyes, focusing on your food.

After dinner it was time for another group session. You wished you could hide away in your room, but Dr. Mooney would only send Nurse Carney to come find you. Group time was a requirement. You didn’t have to talk if you didn’t want to, if you had a difficult day that day especially, but you were always required to attend & at least listen.

As you left the youth wing—where addicts aged 16 to 22 stayed—you tugged at your chapped & peeling lips, nervous. In the discussion room, a room with high ceilings & large windows that overlooked the lawn behind the building, you paused in the doorway. The normal set-up was there, a circle of cushioned chairs in the center of the room, but one thing—or person—stood out.

Their back was to you, but that didn’t matter. You had never seen them before. The only other guy in your group that wasn’t Dr. Mooney was Albert & he had shoulder length curly hair. This guy had a buzzcut. You narrowed your eyes. Slowly, you approached, taking the side that was furthest from him. When you came into eyesight, his eyes flashed to yours. You resented the feeling of euphoria that came over you as his eyes dragged the length of you. The outfit you wore wasn’t the most flattering, but you weren’t prepared for there to be a new kid. A good-looking one.

Trying to ignore his appraisal, you sat in a chair opposite him & to the right of where Dr. Mooney sat. You lowered your eyes, tucking your legs underneath you as you got comfortable in your chair. You were grateful that this facility wasn’t like the one in the movies with rigid uncomfortable seating. These ones were lush, with arms to drape your legs over if it called for it, & cushioned backs that tempted slumber. It was one of the few times you thanked your wealthy parents—for at least putting you in a luxurious facility.

“It’s Friday.” The voice broke you from your mindless thoughts.

You looked up, staring at the guy across from you, “What?”

He pointed at your chest. You glanced down. You furrowed your brows, “Okay…”

“So your shirt is wrong.”

“Great observation.” You deadpanned. The guy chuckled, his eyes never leaving you. You returned the look, though you doubted your stare was as curious as his. Fortunately, you were good at hiding what you were thinking. Or so you thought.

“You alright?” There was no note of concern in his question, but it still threw you.

“Excuse me?”

He smiled, & you couldn’t deny how cute he looked when he smiled. It made your thighs shake.

“You’re looking at me like I killed your dog.”

“Don’t have a dog.” You returned, your voice flat. He hung his head, apparently amused by your response. He nodded, meeting your eyes once more, “Guess every household really only needs one bitch.”

Your mouth hung open. This guy!

A miffed smile appeared on your face as you prepared to rebuttal, but another figure entered the room. Dr. Mooney. You immediately kicked your legs out from under you, straightening your spine. The guy raised his brows, following your line of sight.

“Good evening.” Dr. Mooney greeted as he noticed you before landing his eyes on the guy. “I see you’ve already met each other. Rafe, we met earlier.” Dr. Mooney offered his hand, to which the guy, now Rafe, took it lazily, not even bothering to stand up.

“_____.” Dr. Mooney smiled at you.

“Doctor.” You responded smoothly.

He looked briefly between the two of you before sitting down beside you. You fluttered your eyes closed, inhaling Dr. Mooney’s familiar scent. It was a minty medicinal smell, but light. Not the nauseating kind. There was nothing nauseating about him. You licked your lips, clapping your hands together & pressing them between your thighs. You weren’t as bold to touch yourself, but you liked knowing that your hands were close.

“Others should be here shortly then we’ll do formal introductions.” Dr. Mooney shared as he kicked a leg out to rest on his other. He placed his clipboard that he took notes on on his lap.

“How are you enjoying it so far, Rafe?” Dr. Mooney asked the new kid as he removed a pen from the inside of his jacket.

“Could be worse.” Rafe leaned back in his seat, his eyes shifting to you.

“Well, I’m sure _____ already introduced herself—”

“Hasn’t, actually.” Rafe quipped, offering a half smile.

“Oh?” Dr. Mooney looked to you. You shrugged.

“Well, Rafe this is _____, _____ this is Rafe.”

“So you said.” You responded low, avoiding Rafe’s eyes.

“Rafe will be joining us for the next 12 weeks.” The information made you feel conflicted. Though you were already had sour feelings towards the dude, especially since he called you a bitch within the first minute of meeting you, you couldn’t deny how nice it would be to have another good-looking guy in your group. Albert was cute, but he was gay. You prided yourself on at least curbing your hypersexual tendencies to respect other sexualities.

“Why are you here?” You questioned, finally looking at Rafe. He looked as if he was about to respond but Dr. Mooney brushed the side of his hand against your thigh, only briefly to interject the conversation. Your lungs stopped working.

“That will be discussed when the others get here, _____.”

“Of course.” You breathed out, pressing a hand against the part of your thigh he lightly touched.

You couldn’t be bothered that Rafe watched your hand as you rubbed your thigh there.

Less than five minutes later & the circle was complete. Renee sat to the left of Rafe, throwing you a pointed look. Siena, an opioid addict, sat between Rafe & Dr. Mooney, & Albert, who struggling with his sobriety from alcohol, sat between you & Renne.

“Now that everyone is here,” Dr. Mooney began, sure to smile & greet everyone in the circle, “Rafe, would you like to tell us why you’re here, let us to get to know you.”

Rafe scoffed lightly, seemingly unimpressed, but adhered to Dr. Mooney’s prompt.

“I got kicked out of school. Dad had enough of my bullshit. Put me in here.” He shared so matter-of-factly.

“And why were you kicked out of school?” Dr. Mooney, you knew, already was aware of the answer, having done your first one-on-one session with him before your first ever group session like everyone else in the group. He only asked so everyone could be aware of each other & what they’re here for.

“Beats me.” Rafe smirked, “I went to all my classes so.”

Dr. Mooney pressed his lips together but was not impatient, “That’s not what your parents & I discussed.”

“Isn’t there confidentiality here?” Rafe asked.

“Absolutely. In our one-on-one sessions. But in group, we are transparent. There’s nothing to be ashamed of here, Rafe.” Dr. Mooney gestured to the circle, “You’re not alone. We all struggle with something. It’s why we’re here.”

The only thing about Dr. Mooney that ever bothered you was his use of ‘we’, as if he was also experiencing what you & the others were experiencing. He wasn’t. He was getting paid to help you through it all.

“I’m not ashamed.” Rafe quipped, “But I did nothing wrong, either.”

Dr. Mooney hummed, scribbling on his clipboard. “Alright, Rafe. I won’t push. Not yet. We’ll go in a circle so you can get to know everyone else then we’ll try again.”

You watched as Rafe shook his head, but he settled into his chair quietly. Siena went first.

“Siena, 18. Pill popper. An accident I was in almost two years ago left me nearly paralyzed. Started on morphine, then got switched to oxy & hydro’s. Got to a point where I needed them to function. Then one night I OD’d. Had my stomach pumped, & now I’ve been here for a little over a month.”

“Thank you, Siena.” Dr. Mooney grinned, turning his attention to Renee.

She rolled her eyes, her legs hanging over the arm of her seat, “Renee, 21. I like coke.”

“Is that all?” Dr. Mooney questioned. Renee rolled her eyes, sighing heavily, “It was either here or jail. Good enough?”

Dr. Mooney cocked his head, but moved on to Albert.

Albert mustered a smile, “Albert—not Al not Bert, Albert.” He shared firmly, “I was sober for a year from alcohol but relapsed so I’m back here, hoping to get back to the world & to my boyfriend in no time.”

“And you will.” Dr. Mooney added. Then he angled himself to look at you.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you looked at the wood floor as you shared, “_____. 19. Apparently I have a sex addiction.”

“_____.” Dr. Mooney said your name with a tone you knew well. You cleared your throat, rewording your words, “I do have a sex addiction. I’m here because I slept with my father’s TA. In his office. Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t got caught but that’s how the cookie crumbles, I guess. It’s been too long since I’ve had sex. And I feel like I’m drowning.”

“Your fingers don’t do it enough for you?” Renee’s grating voice sounded.

Your eyes flashed to her. She looked so tiny in her chair, being practically swallowed by it.

“Shut it.” You spit.

Renee chuckled darkly, pleased by your reaction.

“Renee, you know not to interrupt or antagonize.” Dr. Mooney reprimanded.

“Oh, but I thought we were supposed to look out for each other here, Dr. Mooney.” Renee responded sarcastically, “And I definitely saw _____ getting it on with her hand in the woods earlier.”

Heat bloomed in your cheeks & rage coursed the rivers of your veins.

“That’s not group discussion appropriate, Renee.”

“But isn’t it?” Renee challenged, “I mean, it was your name on her lips.”

“You fucking bitch!” You snarled, rising from your seat & gearing to attack her where she sat so smugly.

“_____!” Dr. Mooney’s clipboard clattered to the floor as he caught you, his arms around your waist as he held you back, “Albert, get Nurse Carney.”

Albert rushed out of the room in search of the head nurse. Renee bit her lip, smiling up at you as Dr. Mooney pulled you away from the group. Just off the room was another one. It was a smaller one with a couch that faced a pair of windows & soft, melodic music that played quietly during all hours. Dr. Mooney closed the door behind the two of you & moved to sit you down on the couch.

“_____, you need to calm down.”

You struggled against his hold, desperate to tear Renee to pieces for revealing your private moment in the woods to the group, let alone the object of your desire.

“She said that on purpose!” You yelled, “Fucking bitch needs to be hit.”

“Violence is never the answer.” Dr. Mooney had let you go at this point but still kept his hands on your upper arms to keep you in place as you imagined pummeling Renee to a pulp.

“You’re not the violent type, _____.” He reminded you but you didn’t care. Your adrenaline was skyrocketing.

“I can be. Just let me show you.” You argued.

The door opened behind Dr. Mooney & Nurse Carney appeared. Her red hair tied into a familiar knot at the top of her head.

“Dr. Mooney.” She got his attention.

“Nurse, I need you to lead discussion for the time being while I sit with _____.”

“Of course.” She smiled, offering you a concerned look. You liked her enough, but you felt embarrassed as she pitied you.

When she left the room, Dr. Mooney sat with you still, “Close your eyes & breathe.”

You closed your eyes, focusing on your breathing. But it was difficult when all you wanted to do was punch Renee’s lights out. You figured tomorrow you’d go to boxing instead of yoga.

After a few minutes you had calmed down enough for Dr. Mooney to let you go. You already missed the feeling of his hand on your upper back. When you opened your eyes, you saw he was examining you.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

“Angry.” You replied shortly, “But… calmer.”

“Good, good.” He grinned. He clasped his hands together on his knees as he leaned forward, “What Renee did was inappropriate & I will be discussing that with her, okay?”

You nodded, unable to find your words, fearful that your anger would spike again.

“Stay in here for the remainder of the session.” He stood, tucking his hands into his slack pockets, “Or, if you feel better & more in control, please feel free to rejoin.”

You wouldn’t. But you nodded anyway, “Thank you, Dr. Mooney.”

He gave a closed lip smile, “Of course.”

He turned his back & was about to leave but you stopped him, “Dr. Mooney, about what Renee said…”

“_____, it’s alright.” He faced you, “We’ll discuss it in our one-on-one session in the morning, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Just relax & if I don’t see you during session then I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay.” You mustered a smile, “Thank you.”

Dr. Mooney left you then.

You collapsed into the couch, stretching out atop it as the melodic sounds of an ocean & piano filled the room. Sighing deeply to yourself, your thoughts strayed to the sensation of Dr. Mooney’s arms around your body. You loathed Renee for getting a reaction out of you, but you were elated to feel his body pressed against yours because of it.

Images of him holding you, naked flesh against naked flesh, flooded your every thought. In this room. He would take you in here. On the couch. You’d rake your nails down his back as he held you. Fucked you.

A soft moan parted your lips.

Your eyes opened to linger on the door to the other room. Dr. Mooney said you were okay to stay in here for the remainder of the session. That gave you nearly an hour.

You removed your pants.

part one to my new rafe cameron mini series! idk yet how many parts it will be but i'm loving it so far! so please comment your thoughts, reblog w reviews, or drop an ask to tell me what you think! i'm thirsty.

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