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celtic-crossbow · 6 months

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Series Masterlist

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Chapter 8

Warnings: Mentions of past SA, mention of injuries sustained from SA, scars, masturbation, poor mental health all around

You spent the day with Carol, getting a tour of the prison. There were places that were considered safe, cleared of the dead. That included most of the yard, the towers, a few cell blocks, and the area separating the blocks. You were advised never to go into the tombs, especially until you had been trained to defend yourself. From the living and the dead.

You watched her prepare a small, simple lunch of stew with some rabbits that Daryl brought back and prepped for her. The stew would need to be stretched out to cover dinner as well. Carol confided in you that she was hoping Daryl could get a deer on his next outing.

Between meals, laundry had to be done and the fence had to be cleared. Carol opted for laundry. It was something a couple of other women had taken over since the group had grown in number while Carol had moved to the fence. However, she refused to take you close to the walkers without any knowledge of how to defend yourself. You were introduced to the other women but only worked with Carol so that you were less afraid and anxious. Daryl volunteered to take her spot clearing the fence line.

You had seen him several times but he would only interact with Carol, not even sparing you a glance. His dismissal of you made you feel odd, to say the least. He bought you but didn’t want you. On top of that, the women worked alongside the men on normal activities and were treated kindly. The men you had been introduced to were respectful, but you did have Carol always ensuring she positioned herself between you and the strangers. Kids were playing and learning. There was even a baby.

It was a lot for your first full day. By the time dinner was over and you came inside with Carol, you were exhausted.

“Why don’t I show you where the showers are? You can get cleaned up. I’ll bring some soft clothes for you to sleep in and leave them just inside the door.” She suggested, already leading the way. You really didn’t want to give up the clothes Daryl had given you. You found them comforting. It was the first time you had been in something that wasn’t lace or sequins for as long as you could remember.

Still, it would be nice to feel clean. Really clean and comfortable. So, you relented with a nod. “Okay.”

“Look at you. Baby steps are still steps in the right direction.” When she gave your upper arm a squeeze, you actually didn’t flinch.

Carol showed you how the showers were rigged up to the drums of water and advised you not to stay in too long or you’d use it all up. You were terrified of being alone with only the light of a single candle so she promised to come right back after she grabbed clothes for you. You almost asked to go with her instead, but wanted to see that proud smile she had been giving you. So you stayed.

The water was cold but you were used to that. A bath at the club had usually meant you stood perfectly still and silent while a bucket of freezing water was dumped over you. Still, your breath hitched when the first cold spray touched your skin.

Using soap was like heaven. You actually managed to forget your fear of the dark, quiet room in favor of running your hands over your skin to rid the layers of dirt and grime your quick lake bath had left behind. You paid special attention to the area between your legs. The wounds had long ago healed and scarred over but you had never truly felt clean there since Todd’s brother had assaulted you. You had killed the man with his own knife but Jazz’s people got to you anyway.

Carefully, you ran your soapy fingers over the sensitive skin, the scars his knife had left raised and bumpy. Imperfect. Broken. Flawed. You pulled your hand away, staring down the front of your body as the suds disappeared, showing the scars across your breasts and stomach. They weren’t as severe as the ones your back held. But they were there.

Your lip was quivering with tears weighing down your lashes but you managed to get the soap off of your hands and wipe at your eyes before they could fall. The squeaky door opened. You assumed Carol had returned, hopefully remembering you didn’t have a towel. Your shivering only seemed to worsen once the water was shut off so you decided maybe you could intercept her. She was going to see you regardless. There weren’t curtains on the stalls.

Careful not to slip, you trotted out of the stall with your teeth chattering… and slammed straight into Daryl’s chest.

You backed up immediately, shocked gazes meeting briefly before you dropped your head. You didn’t attempt to cover yourself. Men had a right to look at your body, Daryl even more so.

“I’m s-s-s-sorry.” Goosebumps were littering your skin but you didn’t dare move. Maybe he’d finally decided he wanted you, despite what Carol had said. You didn’t even hear him move before his boots stepped right in front of your bare feet. He sighed before wrapping a large towel around your petite frame, holding the front out a little for you to grab.

“Usu’lly need one’a them if yer gonna take a shower.” His voice was low and gravelly in a way that you’d never heard from him. “M’sorry.” Why on earth was he apologizing?

“Th-thank you,” you took a deep breath, “Daryl.” You squeezed your eyes shut and waited for the rage. It never came. Did he really just want you to call him by his name?

“Mhm.”

The door squeaked again, Carol rushing through with an apology on her lips and a towel in her hand. Her soft expression turned stern. “What’re you doing in here, Daryl.”

The archer lifted his hands in a placating gesture, his sleep pants draped over one arm. “Easy, woman. Was jus’ gonna grab a shower n’ this’un didn’ have a towel. Gave ‘er mine.”

Her face said that she believed him but she leaned to check on you anyway. You gave a tight smile and nodded. “I’m okay.” You all but whispered, scurrying past him and toward the woman you were learning to trust more and more.

“Here.” She tossed him the towel she’d brought for you. “Take your shower. And learn to knock.”

“More than one stall in here. Shouldn’ hafta knock.” She had an arm around your shoulder when she shot him a look, resulting in his hands coming up in that same gesture once again. “I’ll knock. Jesus.”

“Good.” She smiled at him sweetly and he gave her a middle finger as she steered you through the doorway, pressing the clothes into your torso as you walked. “I’m so sorry, honey. I took a few minutes to set up the top bunk for you. I didn’t know he’d be showering this late. Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded quickly. He hadn’t even tried to hurt you, which still boggled you. Little by little, you were beginning to believe what she was telling you; that you were indeed safe. Still, your guard was up and the fear lingered. The learned behaviors were not letting go so easily.

Once you were in the cell, Carol turned away from you to allow you to get dressed. The clothes she brought you were warm and comfortable. They were a little big but fit well enough. You climbed onto the top bunk before she spun back around. She was already dressed in a loose shirt and sweats, her feet bare.

“You feel safe enough to get some sleep?”

Pulling the thin blanket up to your shoulders, you laid on your side. The mattress was thin but it was more comfortable than anywhere you had been allowed to sleep in a long time. “I think so. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. Just try to rest. I’ll see you in the morning.” She said from the bunk below you.

“Okay.” Once the candle had been blown out and shadows swept into the room, you pulled the blanket up further, covering everything up to your eyes. Fear was building up in your chest, your gaze on the blanket over the cell door, watching it as if someone would tear through it at any given moment.

You realized your eyelids were growing heavy only seconds before they closed and you fell into a deep sleep.

The image of you standing bare in front of him was etched into his mind. He found himself extremely grateful for the cold water dousing his heated skin. He shouldn’t think of you like that. It was wrong. You had been objectified for god knows how long. He had no right to entertain the scenarios running through his brain.

He knew it wasn’t attraction that made you look at him the way you did. It was obligation. It was fear. He certainly wouldn’t mind if it was something you truly wanted. He’d let you wrap those pouty lips around him, fucking your mouth and wiping the tears from the corners eyes as you gagged on him. He would return the favor, of course. He wondered what you tasted like. He would make you cum on his tongue first, then bury himself inside you to the hilt. What sounds would you offer to him? Would your thighs shake against his hips as you came again?

“Fuck.” Daryl forced out through gritted teeth. He punched the hard wall in front of him, leaving his fist there to rest his head against it. He was a real piece of work to imagine fucking you when you’d spent so long being raped over and over just to survive. A real fucking prick.

The cold water was doing little to calm him now. His cock had stirred to life, now painfully hard. With a growl, he took himself in hand but didn’t move. He wasn’t sure what to think about when all he wanted now was you. If it wasn’t the end of the world, he’d still have his brother and Merle would have porn in one form or another. Then again, if it wasn’t the end of the world, he’d probably never have met you and this wouldn’t currently be an issue.

This wasn’t something he normally did. Daryl wasn’t an overly sexual being. He had jerked off twice since the turn and it had been out of boredom more than anything else. He had to handle this. He couldn’t exactly stroll out of the showers with a raging erection in his sleep pants. God knows how long it would take to go away on its own, especially with the intrusive images of you playing in his head.

The first stroke forced a hiss from between his teeth, but he pressed on and quickly fell into a rhythm. He tried to imagine girls Merle had brought home before but they always morphed into you. After a few very frustrating minutes, he gave in and let his imagination run rampant.

He fucked into you hard while you whimpered around the fingers he was pressing down on your tongue. When you took him like a good girl, he slid down your body and devoured your pussy as a reward. The little mewls and moans he imagined you’d give to him were quickly stoking the fire at the base of his spine. When he pictured you riding him, his hands squeezing your hips as you begged for him to cum, he was undone.

Daryl came with a muted shout, biting his fist to keep himself grounded through each wave. Panting, he turned and placed his back against the wall, tiredly watching his spend mix with the cold water and disappear down the drain.

Disgusted by what he had just done, he rushed through the actual bathing and shut off the water. He truly wanted nothing more than to disappear into the woods for a few days. At least until the very thought of you didn’t make him feel like he should apologize.

“Goddamnit.” His voice was a mere whisper. Grabbing his discarded clothing, he just pressed his palm down onto the candle to extinguish the flame. The sharp pain from the burn was easy to ignore. He deserved worse.

How did he let it get to this point? He truly was an asshole.

Taglist:

@royaltysuite @thegeorgiahuntsman @livingdeadblondequeen @deansapplepie @feral4daryl @walker-bait-1973 @lazyneonrabbitt @bizquake @littlelovingideas @ririi-3 @ankhmutes @blackvelveteen1339 @sokkasimp101 @lehhos @1ivinqdeadqir1main @loganlostitall @callmeyn

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idv-ask-the-horatiusfamily · 4 months

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Logan's background

(TW: Family abuse, public humiliation, mention of self harm and aboundement issues, Experiment on animals.)

Rumour.

"Logan, a talented inventor who wanted to help out the needed, to uncover more mysteries with his talent. Yet his greedy part of the family locked him in the repeating loop of creating the same, cheap copy of his invention, in an attempt to hide away the forbidden curse of the "Timetravel freak."

Logan, the youngest sibling of the Horatius family, was the golden child of the family, as his early inventions at the age of 4 were adored by his family. Being the blessing and forgiveness from Gods themselves after the failed 5. In an attempt to keep his talent safe, they locked him away from his siblings, keeping him as a secret until the oldest brother sneaked in and threatened his father to quit with the secret.

Logan, at the age of 8 was only pleased and his curiosity was peaking as he was finally introduced to his siblings. He was treated kindly by them, he was glad. He was finally not being isolated in his room with his cat and got a chance to really explore.

15 years old. Logan started publishing his works and presentating them at the stage. Every few months he stood at the stage, proud and happy. Until it started turning into a chore. His inventions were forced to be just upgraded versions of older ones, he was upset but he couldn't argue back, as he thought it was for the best. The public loved it.

A year later, Logan seemed to fall into a constant loop of work and rot in his office. He was starving himself, lowering himself to please the public and his family. Until he passed out at the stage once.

*Article from the Romanian newspaper, 18xx. Translated for England publishing.

"The well-known inventor in Romania, Logan Horatius, has passed out on the stage during his presentation! He was seen as very ill and tired looking during performance, what an embarrassment for his 20th invention..."

Horacio took him under his wing and picked him up to practice fencing to keep him somewhere else other than his office and redo his schedule. Logan felt better physically but never mentally.

At the age of 18, the first mission for Logan was with Matilda. The incident happened to cause Matilda to be hospitalized and after her recovery, Horacio left the family. Leaving his research behind, so Logan could continue.

* "You're just like him. The timetravel freak!"

Hearing the complaints of his aunt and father about the research Horacio has left, Logan sneaked into his office and almost was filled with joy and excitement. Spending nights rereading the notes and tightening screws of old inventions, he felt like his interest in creating machinery was back in his heart.

* "Don't Leave me."

Neatly folded letter

"I know, I know I have to let go. To let go since they won't handle the stress and pressure from the family but I... Why am I supposed to be the one to stay? To stay in this cage? I feel like a hopeless rabbit cornered in this house. They didn't even say goodbye. I'll take the research and some other items and leave this hell place. I can't stand this nickname they all gave me."

First and final presentation of his Timetravel work, "time reverse" watch.

*Article from Romanian newspaper, 18xx

Translated English version for the detective agency in England.

"The final presentation of Logan Horatius invention! The crazy invention of so-called 'time reverse' was mind-blowing in the worst way possible. People were TERRIFIED! And so was Logan himself when he saw how unpleased the public was."

He was desperate. Desperate to find something exact on what displeased the public. Did people really were terrified of something that could change their life for the better? Is the change, something they were scared of? Was it? Why was something he finally enjoyed to create truly, was rejected by the public, who supposedly loved him.

...

Blood, sacrifice, new era.

Test #1 The note.

The blood of an old sheep and a lamb. The animals which were used for the sacrifice the most, the gap of the future and past.

It didn't work exactly how I wanted though. The bottom half cracked weirdly, I can't find out exactly why it happened.

Test #15 The note.

I scratched myself. My habit of old times... I forgot to clean off the blood from the blade and just put it on the shelf since I was too zoned out. My blood dripped onto the watch, causing it to make a weird noise and.. play the song of an old grandfather clock. Maybe this is it.

...

*Article from the Romanian newspaper, 18xx Translated for the detective agency in England

The explosion in that 'Timetravel freak' office was an unusual event on the Romanian streets! The neighbours described it as a greenish blue colour and it didn't seem to shatter any windows. The disappearance of that man also happened at that same moment as the police assumed. Maybe this crazy man's research really worked out after all.

*"Trapped."

The hour glass pocket is a desert with an hourglass pouring the sand onto the ground, constantly. Burying so many past memories, making mortals forget them over time. Logan thought he could recover some. Digging them out from the sand and 'letting them go', the memories were like little birds. Logan found this quite heart-warming, calming him in this....dimension he was trapped for now.

Days, weeks, months, years.. It was his duty, the only entertainment in this strange place, before he encountered a person, well.. a figure at least.

Trapped in the hourglass pocket all alone, seeing a living thing after 7 years.. It was relieving.

Walking up to the figure and attempting to ask some questions, he was greeted by a stare and a sudden handshake.

"Finally got to meet you, Mr. Horatius! Or might I say... 'Timetravel freak'."

"Don't call me that darn it! It been... Urgh how long was it.."

"7 years, but counting the hourglass space pocket time rules, could say over 15 years."

"..."

"But I can help you! I have been here since 1827, 17th April. I know how to get out, I just never wanted to leave but one condition.."

"?"

"I'll give you the power you wanted your whole life, Timetravel and help those forgetful and pathetic souls.. but in exchange, you'll feed me the souls of people who were unloyal to our power, making them drown in the sand tides of this place and be forgotten!... Deal?"

"Deal."

#idv ask the horatiusfamily #idv oc survivor #idv oc ask blog #idv #idv oc hunter #the horatius family #⏳ logan

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casspurrjoybell-29 · 6 months

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Forgotten Ties - Chapter 8 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Skye sat down at a picnic table in the park under some large, shady trees and took out the can opener and his can of tuna.

He still didn't know how to use the can opener.

He had watched people do it but when it came to using it himself, he could never figure out the right angle of approach.

He genuinely tried to work it out for a little while but it didn't take long for him to get frustrated and resort to bashing the can of tuna with the can opener instead.

"Having trouble there?" a voice asked and Skye looked up to see an old man passing by with a small, white dog on a leash.

"Yes," Skye said as he gave the can another smack.

"Here, let me have a look," the old man said as he sat down on the other side of the picnic table.

He pulled a pair of glasses out of his pocket, put them on and took the can and the opener from Skye.

"Ah, this is one of those tricky ones. You know, you'll save yourself a look of bother if you spend a little more to get a decent can opener."

"I probably can't afford that. I need to save my money for sausage rolls."

The old man laughed.

"If you say so. Ah, here, I've got it figured out."

He handed the can back to Skye with the opener hooked into position on one side. "

You turn the handle. It's a bit stiff and I've got arthritis in my hands."

Skye twisted the handle and watched as the can opener started cutting the can open.

Excellent.

"Thank you. You're very good at can openers."

"I've used a fair few over the years."

"I like your dog," Skye said as he finally got the top of the can fully open. "One of my friends is a cute puppy dog."

"That's Peggy. I wasn't too keen on getting a little do, but that's what the wife wanted and now I love her. Having a dog that can bowl you over isn't good at our age."

"My dog friend is very big but I've never seen him push over any old people."

Skye stabbed his fork into the tuna and ate a big meaty piece of it.

"I like to kiss his furry head."

The old man smiled.

"Dogs are good for that."

"Old man, I have a confession to make."

Skye tipped his sunglasses down to reveal his bright green eyes.

"I'm not a human at all. I'm a cat-boy."

"Ah, all right then."

"Do you hate me now?" Skye asked around another mouthful of tuna.

"No, you seem like a good kid."

Skye nodded.

"I'm at least not a bad one, I would say. People should be nicer to me."

"People been a bit mean to you, have they?"

"Yeah but I'm kind of used to it, I guess. Things just feel a bit different now."

"Well, I've been around long enough to tell you that they are different now. Your lot have been around my whole life, but people have never been as scared as they are now. It's not going to be good for anyone if things keep going the way they have been."

"Hmm."

Skye scraped his fork around the inside of the can to collect the last few bits of tuna.

"It's hard because I don't know how to deal with things. I've always just... not."

"Well, you're young, aren't you? Kids your age never have things figured out. That's normal. You'll get there."

Skye was not young at all.

Or... was he?

He was never quite sure.

Skye eyed the inside of his empty tuna can and then stood.

"Okay, I'm going now. Bye, old man."

"My name's Bernard... Oh, okay," the old man said as Skye walked away.

As friendly as the old man had been, Skye really just wanted to be alone.

No, not wanted.

Needed.

At times like these, alone time was something he just couldn't do without.

Not that he'd ever tried but it felt that way.

He went for a walk around the neighbourhood but he kept passing people and sometimes they would look at him and sometimes even say hello.

Skye did not want this.

He did not want to be perceived.

He found his refuge in an inactive construction site for an apartment block.

There were lots of signs on the fence, and maybe some of them said to keep out but Skye couldn't read, so they didn't apply to him.

He scaled the fence and then climbed some scaffolding up into the skeletal building.

From up here, he could see everything but it all seemed so distant and inconsequential.

He just needed to rest for a little while.

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alphareleasemedia · 1 year

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Daily Drabble Project Feb 5-11

2/5/23 Deep in the middle of the woods where the trees grew densely, and the only sunlight burst through the thick canopy to the ground in small golden shafts there was an enchanted world that few had ever seen. There the air was still and all sounds were softer, muffled by the overbearing vegetation. The forest floor was carpeted by a blanket of cast-off leaves from the trees above and moss grew in abundance on nearly every surface. Many birds roosted in the branches of the trees high above while far below creatures of the ground made their peaceful homes together.

2/6/23 She rolled over onto her back to stare up at the night sky. The weather was clear and the moon a slender crescent leaving the stars to shine out in all their glory. Tiny bright pinpricks scattered across the sky like freckles across a face. She traced out the constellations with her eyes, the ones she remembered anyway. The Big Dipper was always the easiest one for her to find, and from there the North Star and the Little Dipper. Orion had already slipped beneath the horizon, but Cassiopeia was still out. And the Pleiades. She counted the seven stars.

2/7/23 Timothy tapped his toes. He wiggled where he stood. He took several deep breaths and then did a little dance much akin to one waiting in line outside the bathroom. Several people stared at him as they passed by. Timothy was oblivious to all. He stared at his watch. Time continued to march forward at the same pace it ever had. Timothy's agitation grew. He leaned in close to the microwave as the timer ticked down towards zero. He rubbed his hands together in eager anticipation. At last the moment arrived. The microwave beeped loudly. The pizza was finally ready.

2/8/23 Eddie was counting spoons. Masie and Claire were watching him. Claire sneezed. Eddie dropped a spoon. Masie laughed at him. Eddie was embarrassed. He became flustered and lost count. Masie laughed even harder. Claire frowned at her. Eddie dropped even more spoons. Claire helped him pick them up. Masie laughed at the both of them. Eddie had to start over his counting. Masie teased him. Eddie had to start over again. Claire glared at Masie. Masie stuck her tongue out at Claire. Eddie gave up trying to count spoons. Claire threw a spoon at Masie's head. Eddie laughed. Claire smiled.

2/9/23 Let me take you back. All the way back. Before I started school here. You see, up until then I'd had private tutors my whole life. And I thought it was great. School was for plebs; my superior intellect would only be held back by standard education. Only problem was my parents were becoming... let's say concerned for my social development. Mainly that I didn't have any. Personally, I didn't have a problem with it. Interacting with others was beneath me. Who needed friends when you were as smart as I was? Yeah, my parents were right to be concerned.

2/10/23 Kenny was walking down the street and enjoying the beautiful day. Suddenly, Tommy jumped out of the bushes and raised his fists to fight Kenny. Suddenly, a dog jumped over a fence and came charging at Tommy while barking. Suddenly, ninjas leaped out of the shade and started throwing shurikens around. Suddenly, a helicopter full of US Marines flew overhead and opened fire on the street below. Suddenly, a spaceship flew down and started firing its laser at everyone. Suddenly, something else happened but Kenny didn't see it because he was still walking down the street enjoying the beautiful day.

2/11/23 Eggs sizzled in the frying pan as Ashley stared blankly forward at the wall. She yawned and then slowly started flipping the eggs over. She yawned again. The toaster popped up making Ashley jump. She quickly extricated the toast and began buttering it. Ashley stifled another yawn as she finished with the toast and returned to the eggs. They were of course overcooked by this point. Ashley grumbled as she turned off the stove and poured the eggs out of the frying pan and onto the same plate as the toast. She then shuffled over to the table to eat.

#daily drabble project #ddrp2023

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grumpygreenwitch · 1 year

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The Fairy and the Prince #27 + #28 + #29 + #30

Part 1 - Part 2 - Parts 3 & 4 - Part 5 - Part 6, 7 & 8 - Part 9 & 10 - Part 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 & 16 - Part 17, 18, & 19 - Part 20, 21 & 22 - Part 23, 24, 25 & 26 - Part 27, 28, 29 & 30 - Part 31, 32, 33 & 34 - Part 35, 36 & 37 - Part 38, 39, 40 & 41 - Part 42 & 43 - Part 44 & 45 - Part 46 & 47 - Part 48, 49, 50 & 51 - Part, 52, 53 & 54 - Part 55 & 56 - Part 57, 58, 59 & 60 - Part 61, 62, 63, 64 & 65 - Part 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71 & 72

Originally posted 11/30/2022

During the apex of the Longest Night festivities, Prince Galian, thinking himself quite clever, proposed marriage to the Queen Dowager. Cold-eyed and faintly amused, she accepted, to the astonished and fairly hesitant cheering of the court. Galian was found dead in his bed the next morning, and the servants who found him had to be given poppy tea before they’d stop screaming.

Adam only felt tired at the news. He was sure Galian had believed himself very clever to come up with a loophole into the crown, and Adam could only wish it would have worked.

For the second time, he received letters and a present from home for his birthday, a slim belt with matching gloves, boots and a dagger in its elegant sheath, as well as his father’s awkward, stilted invitation to perhaps come visit in the summer. He gave the dagger to Dane, unwilling to bring even steel near his friends, and the too-small boots to Beli. The belt and the gloves he kept, though neither helped him much when he got into the habit of dragging an easel and canvas out to the spring-chilly woods. He hated poetry, he couldn’t sculpt, his singing, like William, was ‘enough’ and little else. If he was going to be forced to waste time putting smudges of paint in place in an inept attempt to make them look like something, he’d rather it be the trees and places he loved, rather than pears and uncomfortable maids tapping their feet and fiddling nervously with their hands while they struggled to sit still for the princes8.

He had spent the morning scowling at his latest attempt, and was tromping to the abandoned kelpie pond to throw the irksome thing into the water, when the glad, familiar cry came over the fresh new grass. “Adam!”

He dropped the canvas and ran. “Linden!”

They crashed into each other and went down, rolling as they hadn’t done since they’d been young and wild and carefree, laughing in delight. Covered in dew and grassy bits they helped each other up. “Look at you!” Linden admired. “You’re twice the wide you were before!”

“You’re one to talk!” Adam felt as if his heart might burst with gladness. “What did they feed you this past year?”

Linden laughed again. Adam was shooting up, as boys of his age will; under a strict regimen of riding, fencing and the rest of such martial endeavors, the promise of the man he’d one day become was beginning to gleam bright in the boy he barely still was. But Linden, once of a height with the prince, had grown taller still by nearly a hand during the winter; they were still slim and elegant, moving like a reed in a hidden current. The gold-tipped white mop of their hair still was exactly that, an unruly mop, but the shattered glass of their eyes had grown in complexity and color, the blues and greens and browns touched with the russets and golds of autumn, the silver and white of winter. The planes of their sun-kissed face were fey, faintly inhuman, and they had lost nearly all of their childhood’s green freckles. But nothing had changed of their delight in seeing at last their oldest, dearest friend.

“Boul!” Adam launched himself at the young troll, bouncing off his chest, much to Boul’s delight. Few people ever met a troll with such unalloyed, unafraid glee, and he very much appreciated it.

“Adam,” the troll replied in his gentle bullfrog croak of a voice, turning and bumping his head lightly to the prince’s. He was nearly nine feet tall if he stood up straight, which he never did; once twice as broad at the shoulders as both Linden and Adam put together, he now lapped his friends an easy three times. There were patches of lichen growing on his cool, craggy skin, and mushrooms that would glow faintly in the darkness of a cave.

The prince wobbled under what trollkin considered a gentle greeting, only for strong hands to catch him and steady him from behind. “Ah, already hard at work chivvying all of them thinky-thoughts out of yer skull, I see.”

“Needle,” he hugged her tightly, and she hugged him back, chuckling low. “I don’t need them, anyway. I have you all.”

“Goodness, what mush is in there that this wee pack of mischief is a better option,” she teased him, her mouth furling into a grin like a predatory vine. Of them all, the redcap alone had hardly changed, already having reached the nearly eternal maturity of her people. Her leather girdle carried more buttons, and her cap was a more vivid russet, with two knucklebones stitched into it, but she was very much herself, down to the earthy smell of charnel and upturned dirt.

Linden leapt and clung to Adam like a scarf; the young prince staggered, but didn’t fall. “What are you doing in the woods so early, we thought we’d have to come find you!”

Somewhat chagrined, Adam showed them the canvas. None of them could agree on what it was he’d been trying to paint, and for once he was glad not to speak the language of trees, because he was despairingly sure even the linden tree would not have recognized itself in the work. But that mattered to none of them. They were together, and that was enough.

***

Climbing was tricky. Linden was awkward in their newfound, slim and slender build, and Adam outgrew both his limbs and his clothing by the hour, or so it seemed. For once he found himself in the odd situation of having to catch Linden just as much as his friend would catch him, and in the end it got more frustrating than it was entertaining.

Instead they swam in long forgotten pools in the depths of the woods, or basked under the sun, or ran wild through the green woods, shrieking like birds and howling like wolves. Adam found out that if he brought books on warfare and strategy, Needlemaw would stay with them while she read. None of them could paint, but for the first time he saw Boul’s magic at work as the young troll wrought from clay and stone and bits of quartz exquisite little works of art, smaller than Adam’s fist and yet precise down to the last detail. Neither he nor Linden had the voice for singing nor the patience for poetry. Needle did, and when she sang, her voice a pure and mesmerizing flute, the woods came to a halt to listen.

She would still leave them more often than not to spend her time with William, and Adam saw Linden frown in worry one such time. “What is it?”

Linden said nothing. They meandered off to where Boul was drowsing in a patch of wild snowdrops, and they sprawled along the young troll’s back, mindful not to disturb the mushrooms growing on him. Adam flopped on the damp grass next to both his friends and waited, far too familiar with Linden’s ways to try to hurry them.

“Adam, what do you know about fairy-wives?”

“Nothing,” he admitted readily. “Well, some, but I don’t know that it’s the truth. It’s all songs and stories about how it never ends well.”

“It ends well plenty of times,” Linden replied, cradling their chin in their laced hands. “But you don’t hear about those because they’re boring. They don’t care about happy endings. I guess 'cuz they never got their own. But Needlemaw… You know what she is.”

“I know she’s Needlemaw,” Adam said, his tone going defensive.

“To you, to me, to us!” Linden made an exasperated sound. “Adam, I don’t know if she could be happy. The good fairy-wives, the ones you don’t hear about, the ones that succeed, are those that could already stay home with the children and the hearth and all those things. There’s nothing asked of them that they weren’t already doing.”

Adam popped his mouth soundlessly, at last understanding Linden’s concern. “Does she love him? Has he asked?”

“I don’t know. I’ve learned things about her people that I never knew before I met her, before you made me meet her. Else I would say 'no’ and wait for her to eat him.” Linden blew out a long breath. “But now, now she might try, for his sake. And if she slips, it’ll be a story and a song they will never get tired of, and all at the expense of her misery.”

Adam turned on his back, staring up at the pale spring sky. “He’s eighteen. He turned it the autumn I was away.”

Linden sighed, resting their cheek on Boul’s back. “Why aren’t there more princes like you? She would have been fine with someone like you. She would have been happy with someone like you. I would be.”

Adam found himself suddenly unable to breathe. His blood, his heart, his muscles all thundered in his ears. His eyes couldn’t focus. He couldn’t speak, nothing in his body worked.

“Adam!”

His elbows slipped and he crashed somewhat forcefully back onto the ground, hissing and rubbing at the back of his head. “Sorry, what?”

“I said, can’t you think of something to help her?” Linden made another vaguely exasperated noise. “And him, too, I guess.”

Adam looked into those shattered, many-colored eyes, and swallowed. He knew the things that were meant to come into his mind and his body as he grew older, of course. Arditty was lovely, and he knew he’d been meant to pine after her; perhaps he would have, if he’d not seen her go through suitors like a cook goes through pots at lunch-time. Culli-maid was charming, her soft and earthy looks not nearly as appealing as her quiet wisdom and her solid, stern manner. But while he knew they were female, and he knew they were appealing, they’d never actually appealed. If he were to flip the coin, neither had Beli, for all his cleverness, or Dane and his steadfast strength.

No one in the palace ever had. No one outside the palace, either, until that moment. “I’ve better, I guess.” Adam sighed and sat up, looking at his hands rather than at his friend, not wishing to betray his confusion and uncertainty. “For Needle’s sake.”

***

It proved surprisingly hard to get close to William. At first Adam had thought the older prince jealous that he’d not been able to go on the tour of the realm, which was understandable, if vexing. But as the days carried on, a much more worrisome truth began to become apparent: William was avoiding him.

Why? Adam was unsure. Needlemaw was a common link, and if anything it would have made sense for the older prince to try and maintain that link. Nothing had happened during his year away, at least nothing that Linden or Boul could tell him; the fairy maid had split her time between their world and Adam’s.

Did William blame him for her partial absence? That question he did feel safe posing to Needlemaw, but she laughed and ruffled his hair and assured him William saw him as no competition, no obstacle, and no impediment.

Astonished at his own daring, Adam used what he’d learned from his friends to break into William’s rooms while the older prince was attending jousting classes. From Needlemaw he’d learned the language of locks, how to whisper and flatter, how to cajole and plead so that no door or window was barred to him, and the door to the older prince’s quarters was much taken with his attention. From the troll he’d learned the whispering secrets of stone and caves, of treasure buried deep in the earth, and finding the three hidey-holes in the bedroom and the study room was absurdly easy. But beyond that, he found nothing. William’s letters to home were as 'enough’ as the prince himself was. His family cheered him on with lukewarm interest at best. There was a small box filled with tokens; Arditty kept one such, filled to bursting with trophies from her conquests. William had two rings, one ribbon… and a black knucklebone on a sinew cord.

Adam closed his eyes tightly and opened them again to barely a squint. The knucklebone turned into a plain silver locket on a simple cord.

“Oh, Needle,” he murmured at that further proof that the fairy maid, the older sister he and Linden had ended up with so absurdly, really did care for her mortal prince.

It took him several days to go through the rooms, and he had little enough to show for it. There wasn’t much he could do otherwise when William would not willingly go near him for more than a stilted polite greeting. He went so far as to ask the water-spouts if they knew anything. They were the ones that directed him to the sparrows, and they in turn pointed him to the swallows that lived in the vast eaves of the royal stables. William did most everything well enough, but in jousting at least he distinguished himself a little bit. Adam could have kicked himself for not thinking of it before.

But then again, more and more as spring quickened into summer he found himself distracted, enthralled, confused terribly by Linden, by the new light that shone on his best friend. They were more beautiful, more graceful, more elegant and courtly than Arditty, wise and merry and cheerful like Beli, faster and deadlier than Dane, soothing and calm like Culli; more, they were always there, and their faith in Adam had never faltered.

No one believed in him like Linden did.

Adam was terrified of risking that, of losing that. It felt, he thought, as if he were teetering on a ledge, only he was taking the chance that he would chase Linden away and there’d be no one left to catch him.

Unable to cope with his own dilemma, and entirely willing to bury it under someone else’s, he grew to carry a pocketful of dry cherries, hoping to hear something he could use from the birds of the palace grounds. The mice, unfortunately, spoke an entirely different language from those that dwelt in the woods, and the squirrels were just plain rude.

A flock of tits caught him on his way into the palace through a kitchen garden on the first day of true summer. He was sweaty and exhausted and entirely too pleased with himself; for the first time, one of his paintings was actually turning out right, though he suspected his success had a lot to do with his subject. He almost didn’t realize his attention was required until one of the tits snatched his hair and pecked roughly at his head. “Ow! Alright! Butter and burrs, what, what?!”

They gave him their news and he flew back out of the kitchen garden, pausing only to tuck away his boots and his painting supplies under a broad, low bench. The flock escorted him all the way to the royal stables and beyond, past the jousting grounds. There they left him, after he gave them every cherry in his pockets.

He spoke to the brambles and brush that grew underneath the seating surrounding the grounds. He couldn’t tell if they understood or spoke back, but as he slithered through the patterned shadows he found himself free of burrs or prickles, and breathed a sigh of relief.

William was there, with three of the young men that had attended his birthday party with Adam two years ago. He was the oldest of them all. They were passing along a bottle of something that looked far too old and strong for them to have come by it properly, and they were laughing as they spoke.

Adam having come more or less in the middle of the conversation, still heard them speak of a half dozen trysts or more. Arditty’s behavior, which Adam had thought ruthless in the extreme, was actually the rule, not the exception. From the princes sitting above him in the rising twilight he learned that night that most of them knew they were going to die, and thought nothing of packing as much living as they could in the years they were allotted. He also heard, as if in passing, that Rickard had written to many of them and told them to renounce the crown; as with Adam and his parents, many of them had been forbidden to do so.

So they sought what pleasure they could, wherever they could, and never mind who they trampled in the process. Adam’s education grew immensely in those few hours as he listened to the increasingly intoxicated princes try to outdo one another with their escapades and their casual cruelty.

Until William laughed at them. “All this effort, all this time,” he chided them, “when you could have been looking for another way out.”

“Like Galian did?” one of them protested acidly.

“We’re not all so lucky to snare a fairy-maid to protect us, Will.”

“I didn’t snare her,” he replied tartly. “I’ve courted her fair and square.”

“Oh, sure, fair and square.” They laughed at him. “And you love her fair and square too, do you?”

“No, of course not.” William said it with such obvious disdain that Adam felt as if the words had been a blade through his own heart. “I’m not an idiot, like Lestrelle. You can’t make friends of them, they’re too dangerous, too wild, they’re not people.”

“Is that what you tell her when you bed her?” They laughed at him.

“You’re all idiots,” he replied calmly before his voice turned smug. “I don’t love her. I didn’t say anything about her loving me.” William took the bottle and pointed it loftily at his peers. “It’s their power that draws us into the woods. I need her power to protect me. If that means I have to play lover so she’ll fall in love with me, so she’ll wish to keep me safe, then of course I’ll play.”

“She’s the Folk in the Woods, Will. You’re playing with fire,” one of the princes was not so drunk that he couldn’t tender the obvious warning.

“Oh, what do I care,” William snapped. “I’ll be King. Once I’m safe I’ll make me a crown of cold iron and lock her up in a tower while I find a good and proper mortal wife. I only need her the once.”

“What if she can’t keep you safe?”

“She’s a monster,” William shook his head. “It slips out every now and again. She’s a nightmare. By their measure that makes her powerful.” He drank and sighed, and passed the bottle. “It’s a pity, you know. I keep telling her if she cleaned up and dressed up she’d make a right lovely sight,” he mock-mourned. “No, she’ll save me. She loves me. It might kill her, but she’ll save me. You will all see.”

“What do you do, then, close your eyes when you kiss her?”

They all laughed. “No, she’s lovely, she really is, when she tries,” William admitted. “But what can you do. She is what she is, and I am what I am. And what I am wants to live.”

***

Adam stayed under the stands long after the other princes had staggered away, as darkness fell and the stars rose in the sky, tiny and glittering. Bats came by and apologized for confusing him with a large, tasty bug. He saw a few smallfolk trundle by, secure in the knowledge that no one would know them for what they truly were under their mole-fur cloaks and mushroom cap hats.

He felt wounded and empty in ways he couldn’t name.

Once before he’d found himself faced with the nature of his friends, with the potential threat they represented. Back then, childhood faith had carried him through. But that night, on the cusp of adulthood, he found himself dreading that blind, sweet, easy faith.

Did he trust Linden? Always.

Did he love Linden? He didn’t know. He thought so, but he’d never loved someone before. How was he to tell if the tangle of emotions inside him every time he looked into those shattered eyes was love?

Did he trust Needlemaw? Against every sensible, logical understanding of her nature, he did. She had never come to hurt anyone; her sole job had always been to protect Linden. Anything she’d offered beyond that, to Boul, to Adam, to those few that knew her for what she was, she’d offered freely and without meaning harm.

Adam was absolutely sure things would not end well for William if, when, he told the redcap what he’d heard. He wished with all his heart he’d never carried the older prince’s gift or his message to the fairy maid. He would have given anything to take from her what was to come. But he also knew, as he’d known then, that the knowledge was not his to keep. There was only one person who could make a decision on it, and he was not it.

He didn’t sleep that night, he didn’t go back to the palace at all. He found Beli and Dane looking for him and sent them back to bed, told them in no uncertain terms to stay inside, no matter what, for the next day.

He went into the woods, climbed the boughs of the linden tree, and waited there.

#the fairy and the prince #linden and adam #linden the fairy #adam the prince #fantasy #writing #fantasy writing #my writing #original writing #boul the troll #boulders-for-brains #needlemaw #needlemaw the redcap

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fandom-imagines-stories · 3 years

Text

There With You

Peeta Mellark x Reader

Words: 2532

Summary: A panic attack during the Victor’s tour leaves the reader gasping for breath backstage. Her fiance is able to calm her down, but now she’s afraid that what’s real and what’s pretend will blur together.

Notes: This is another kind of comfort fic based on my own experience, so I hope someone out there can connect with it. I love reading things to help calm myself down, so I hope that my comfort imagines can do that for somebody else. Plus Peeta is one of my comfort characters, so it works out. (Also, the reader has taken Katniss’ place in this scenario. Still love Katniss, but this fit the story)

Warnings: Panic attack, anxiety, the like (This is not a depiction of every kind of panic attack. This is just what I have experienced in the past)

None of this was supposed to happen. There wasn’t supposed to be two of you. There weren't supposed to be riots. The romance wasn’t supposed to be real.

Then why was he the only one keeping you from sprinting off that stage?

Peeta’s fingers were intertwined with yours as he spoke to the crowd, keeping you grounded. You tried to focus on the sound of his voice instead of the hundreds of eyes staring up at you. You looked up at the screens and saw her looking back at you. Her. The first person you’d ever killed and you couldn’t even bring yourself to think of her name.

Your breathing hitched and you could feel the squeezing, twisting grip around your throat. No no no not now. Not in front of the entire crowd. What would President Snow do to you if you broke down in front of an entire district? What would he do to Peeta?

“Thank you.” Peeta finished up his speech and a few people in the crowd reluctantly applauded. His eyes locked on your face, seeing a single tear fall down your cheek and he quickly led you off the stage.

He knew that District 9 would be the hardest for you. He still remembered the knife and the blood and the gore. You had killed her to save him. And now you had to live with that for the rest of your life.

The doors closed behind you and you immediately fell back against them, clutching your chest with your free hand. You ripped open the buttons on your high-necked dress, foolishly thinking that it would make it easier to breathe. The invisible hand had closed around your throat, knees crushing down your chest. When you closed your eyes, Clove was on top of you, choking the life out of you slowly, whispering all of the ways she was going to torment Peeta once you were gone.

“Let’s get her out of here.” Haymitch said, his expression a mix of worry and unease. He knew the image of a weak Victor would mean more problems that you weren’t ready to deal with. He remembered what it was like to be under the eye of the Capitol.

“I can’t… I can’t do this. Peeta, I can’t keep-” You gasped in between shaky breaths. Your vision was blurred at the sides and you were gripping the door to keep from collapsing. “I-I-”

“Shh, it’s okay. You don’t have to talk now.” Peeta said, putting a hand on your cheek. “Can you walk to the train?” You nodded, but couldn’t seem to bring your hands away from the door. Peeta looked back at Haymitch and Effie for a moment before turning back to you. “I’m going to carry you, okay?” You must have nodded because he kissed your cheek before scooping you up in his arms.

Your hands released the door and instead latched onto the lapel of his jacket. Every part of you was shaking and the weight on your chest was only getting heavier.

“P-Peeta.” You cried, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes.

“I’ve got you. We’re almost there.” He tried to hide the crack in his voice, trying to be the strong one for you, but seeing you like this split his heart in half. Haymitch and Effie huddled around you, trying to block the two of you from any prying eyes or cameras.

You didn’t notice when they finally got you onto the train. In your head, you were still on that stage, staring out at the little brothers of the girl you murdered. You thought for sure you were suffocating. Every breath was becoming harder and more painful than the last and the blackness at the edge of your vision was growing.

Peeta sat down, holding you in his lap and gently stroking his fingers through your hair.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe. You aren’t in the arena. You’re here with me.” He buried his face in your neck, gently pressing a kiss to the place between your shoulder and your spine. “You’re with me.”

“I’ll never leave that arena.” You whispered, your voice so quiet you weren’t sure if he even heard you.

This was far from the first attack you’d had since winning the games, but it was certainly the worst.

Haymitch and Effie just watched you with sympathetic eyes for a moment before leaving the two of you alone. Peeta held you tight until your breathing started to return to a steady pace. While your vision cleared, your body couldn't stop shaking and you couldn’t seem to pry your hands away from his jacket.

“I’m sorry.” You sniffed, trying to wipe panicked tears away on your sleeve.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I shouldn’t have made you go out there with me. I knew what it was going to be like for you and I should have-”

“They wouldn’t have let you go out there alone.” You shook your head. “There’s no hiding from them, Peeta.” You repeated your words like an echo, over and over again. “I’ll never leave that arena.”

“Then I’m right there with you.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and stood up, keeping you pressed against his chest. “Come on, we should try and get some sleep before we reach the next District.”

He carried you to your compartment and tucked you under the covers. He crawled up beside you without you having to ask. It had become an unsaid thing between the two of you. You kept the nightmares away as best as you could and when one of you woke up afraid, you weren’t alone.

Peeta had proposed for the cameras the day you left for the Victor’s tour, but it was all for show. The Capitol ate it up. When you really said yes, it was a week prior, just the two of you in the calming quiet in a meadow outside of the fence. It meant more that way.

Of course, Effie had picked out an extravagant ring for you to wear on stage and everything. It was gaudy and heavy and enough jewels to feed three districts for a month. But like the faked proposal, it wasn’t what was real.

You twisted the small bronze band around your finger, examining it in the faint light coming through the train windows. You had been awake for about an hour now, but Peeta’s peaceful sleep kept you from stirring. You rested in the warmth of his embrace and listened carefully to the slow, comforting sound of his heart beat.

You wanted to stay in this moment forever.

“Rise and shine you two.” Effie burst through the door and Peeta instantly went rigid beneath you, jolting up and pushing you behind him. You couldn’t see his face, but his expression frightened Effie. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think, I-”

“No, Effie, it’s okay. Really.” He said apologetically, his expression softening. “We’ll be out for breakfast in a second.”

“Alright. Don’t be long. I know they want to do a feature on engaged life. A little romance might be just what you two need.” She gave you both a small smile before walking out, the door sliding shut behind her. Peeta laid back on his elbows, blowing out a low sigh.

“I didn’t mean to scare her. I just heard the door open and all I could think was that someone was here to take you away.” He pulled you back down to him and gently pressed his lips to yours. Truthfully, he’d been in the middle of a nightmare when he heard Effie enter. He thought that the images in his head were becoming real.

“She’ll be okay.” You concluded, drawing circles on his chest . “Effie is tougher than she seems. And she knows what we’ve been through.” Despite her bright and sometimes obnoxiously optimistic attitude, you knew that Effie wasn’t a mindless pawn from the Capitol. She saw what the games did to you. She saw the children behind the victors.

Breakfast was mostly had in a settled quiet. While neither of you said anything, Haymitch glanced over at you and you nodded to let him know that you were okay. It was that silent understanding that was the foundation of your relationship with your former mentor.

“They’re doing an update interview to see how the Capitol’s darling lovebirds have been enjoying their tour.” Haymitch said gruffly. “Which means lots of blushing and doe-eyes from you two.”

“That won’t be hard.” Peeta noted, looking over at you. He meant it sweetly, but something about it sent a shiver of dread down your spine. You ignored it, giving him a small smile.

“It’s comforting to know we won’t need to convince anybody of the whole hopeless romantic thing.” Haymitch made a face. “You two do a wonderful job of making me nauseous all on your own.” Effie smacked him with her rolled up napkin.

“I think it’s wonderful.” She mused dreamily. “How something like that could bring you together.”

You stiffened, keeping your eyes on your plate, pushing your eggs around mindlessly with your fork. Sometimes you forgot that this was still all a TV show for people to gawk at. You would be the star crossed lovers from District 12 for the rest of your lives. No amount of real emotion you felt for Peeta was going to erase that.

The other three seemed to notice your shift and finished their meal in silence. Haymitch excused himself to the dining car for likely the rest of the day and Effie left to work on the speeches you’d have to read in front of District 8. You hadn’t eaten a bite, opting to sip slowly at your coffee instead.

“Just a few more days and we’ll get to go home.” Peeta said, noticing your empty stare and untouched meal. You just nodded, not really hearing him.

“So tell us, Peeta, when did you know that you wanted to propose?” Caesar grinned into the camera.

“Honestly, I knew the moment we stepped out of the arena that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.” Peeta gave your hand a squeeze and looked at you with complete and utter adoration. Caesar gasped in awe, eating up the fluffy romance that Peeta was perfect at portraying.

Is that all this is? The thought penetrated your mind before you could stop it. A performance? Is everything he says for the sake of the camera?

“I’m not sure if I’ll ever forgive you for not including me in the moment, Peeta.” Caesar pouted. “But it was just so sweet I can’t stay mad at you!” The two laughed and you forced a loving smile. “Really, proposing in front of the bakery just before you left for the tour- why, it’s probably the most romantic thing I have ever seen.”

“I’m glad it came off that way, because I was a nervous wreck!” Peeta exclaimed and they laughed again. You had to admire his acting ability. Maybe that’s what scared you so much.

He’s just performing. Is he performing with you?

“I think we all want to know,” Caesar beamed, turning his attention to you, “what was going through your head, Y/N? When Peeta got down on one knee?”

You pushed any doubt from your head and just focused on everything you knew was real. “Honestly, Caesar, I can’t think of a happier moment in my life. I never knew what I was missing until we found each other.”

“Don’t these two just make you believe in love, Claudius?” He gushed to his costar. “We’ll let the two of you get back to your tour, but I can’t say how excited we are to have you all to ourselves here in the Capitol.”

“We can’t wait.” Peeta grinned. You both smiled broadly, waiting for the little red recording light to turn off. As soon as the cameras were gone, Peeta lifted your hand up to his lips. “That went well.” He muttered against the skin of your palm.

“Yeah. I think they definitely believe that we’re the perfect couple.” You hadn’t meant to say it so bitterly, but as soon as the words left your mouth, Peeta’s expression changed.

“What’s wrong?” His eyes were different, the charisma that was there with Caesar was gone. His worry seemed to stem from something real, but you just couldn’t convince yourself that it was.

“Nothing.” None of this is real. It’s all just the games. What if you’re still in the arena? What if this is all in your head? You broke away from him, trying to hide the panic growing and growing inside you until it was all you could feel. You could hear him saying your name, but it sounded garbled and far away, like he was whispering in the rain.

What seized you now was unlike you’d ever felt before. Not only was it the dark panic that blurred your vision and tightened your throat until you couldn’t breathe- it was a complete disconnect from reality. It was like you were trapped inside one of their screens and you were banging on the glass, trying to get out.

You didn’t realize you had fainted until you woke up in Peeta’s arms. His was sitting up, cradling you in his lap like he had before, only now you were in your room and you had a blanket draped around your shoulders. You jerked away, your mind still terrified that even this wasn’t real.

“Woah, hey it’s okay. I’m right here.”

“This isn’t real. None of this is real.” You whispered in a panic, still trying to push away from him. This was the Capitol. They were in your head. “You aren’t real.” As hard as you shoved against him, his strong arms were locked around you. He pressed a kiss to your temple, holding you closer.

“I’m right here. I’m real. Just breathe. Come on, stay with me.” While his voice was soothing, your vision was still blurred with hot tears.

“We can never escape this. Every second of our lives belongs to them. Nothing is real. It’s all theirs.”

Peeta pulled away, taking your hand in his. He slid the bronze ring off your finger and held it up.

“This is ours. It’s not Snow’s, it’s not the Capitol’s, it’s ours. It’s real and it’s ours.” He put the ring back on and moved your hand to his chest. You could feel his heart beating beneath your fingertips. “I’m real,” He looked at you with a gentle and yet intense love, “and I am completely yours.”

You wiped away your tears and laid a hand on his cheek. “Peeta-”

“And no matter the nightmare, no matter the fear, or when your mind takes you back to the games, just remember I will always be there with you.”

He pulled you back to him and the two of you remained- away from the cameras and away from the Capitol. At least for now, you weren’t victors. You were a boy and a girl who had saved each other.

#peeta mellark #peeta mellark x reader #hunger games #catching fire #haymitch abernathy #effie trinket #the hunger games imagine #josh hutcherson

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wordsfromthesol · 3 years

Text

The Break-Up

Author: @wordsfromthesol Taglist: @zphilophobiaz Pairing: Wally West x Batsis!Reader Word Count: 1.4k

Dick was supposed to be on a mission all week in South America. You and Wally were elated, as now you had the whole house to roam free. You could even go on a proper date in Gotham, without worrying that Nightwing might see you while he was on patrol. On day 3, the two of you opted for a movie at home. Cuddled up on the couch, you were completely oblivious that Dick had entered the room. Even Wally wasn't fast enough to break free of your grasp.

"Dick…you're back early." The words stumbled out of his mouth as he meets him on the other side of the living room, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible.

"Apparently not early enough. Something you guys need to tell me?" Dick eyed his best friend before turning his glare towards you.

"Nope!" Wally screamed before speeding out of the house. There was no point in trying to hide it. Dick was one of the best detectives and the evidence had been plastered in front of his face.

"We're dating. Have been for a while now." Your lackadaisical demeanor made his reaction worse.

"YOU’RE WHAT?!" He yelled out before adding, "You can't date WALLY!"

"Wait wait wait. So let me get this straight. It's okay for Wally to be your best friend. And it's okay that he knows all about our family secrets. But it's not okay for me to date him? In what world does that make sense Dick?!" You threw your hands up in frustration.

"In the world where you're my baby sister!" Dick knew his argument didn't make sense, but he made it anyway.

"You're being impossible!" You screamed after him as he stormed away.

Wally wouldn't answer your calls for the next week. You couldn't even see him if you wanted to and Dick was making sure of that. Hell, the whole family probably was. I mean, why should you get to be happy. Once Wally had decided to stop ignoring your calls, he started making them. Constantly. And now it was your turn to ignore his, it was only fair. That and you had no idea what to say or even how you felt anymore. As soon as your family found out it seemed like Wally crumpled and gave in. He should know better than that, right? Then again, maybe you just weren't worth it. Maybe you loved him more than he loved you.

Finally, you had enough. After all, you could only wallow in self-pity for so long and you definitely didn't want to be around your family any longer. Their constant check-ins and asking if you were going to go on patrol was getting redundant. So you made a decision; first thing in the morning, as everyone was sleeping, you gathered your stuff and left. With your emergency cash and passport in tow, you borrowed one of Bruce's cars and started driving. You had absolutely no idea where you were going, but anywhere was better than here.

"Wally?" Dick mumbled out. He hadn't called his best friend in almost a week.

"She's gone. I know. I've already searched the entire city for her." Wally's disheartened tone melted into sorrow. "I really messed up, didn't I?" He heard a long sigh from the other end.

"I think we both did." Silence fell between the old friends as both of them realized their mistakes. Finally, Wally's voice echoed through the speaker.

"Do you think we can find her?"

"I don't know. Tim's looking…but she was trained by Bruce. If she doesn't want to be found…" Dick's voice trailed off, trying not to think of the potential outcomes. "Do you have any ideas?"

"I can…uh…check a few places. But she ran away from me too," Wally's voice grew almost inaudible, "rightfully so."

"She took the blue Nissan sedan. License plate 6J11AN." Neither of them bothered exchanging pleasantries before hanging up the phone. The relationship was still on edge, it didn't feel right.

You had absolutely no plans. All the covert training had gone out the window as you mindlessly drove down the winding back roads. Did you have any idea where you were going? Absolutely not. Did you end up following a dirt road to a small, abandoned, and partially dilapidated cabin? Absolutely.

The cabin turned out to be a great project to keep your mind off of the turmoil in your life. It had been a few days and you were working on fixing the fence outside when you felt an unexpected gust of air. Shit. You had become all too accustomed to what followed and there he stood in front of you, mouth agape.

"What do you want Wally?" Your apathetic tone gave him pause, but he soon returned to his normal demeanor.

"Are you kidding?! It's been days Y/N! You haven't made contact with anyone!" You had gotten used to deciphering his slurred speech, but these words were clear as day and filled with trepidation.

"Well, my supposed boyfriend ran as soon as my brother found out, then ignored me for a week. And my brother was a douchebag you said I couldn't date you. I had no one. And torturing myself in that house…I couldn't do it anymore." Wally was speechless, a feat not easily achieved, so you turned back to the fence in dire need of replacement. Before you could pull off another board, Wally grabbed your wrist.

"I fucked up. I know. But I was scared. Dick and I…we've been there for each other since the beginning --" You cut him off, it was an explanation you didn't need.

"Wally. I am his sister. I know that. I watched you two grow up, even though you didn’t always see me. I looked up to him, to you, that's why I became a vigilante. But you had to have known this," you gestured between the two of you, "couldn't have continued without Dick knowing."

"It has been nearly 8 months…" Wally mumbled. He honestly didn't know what he was expecting to do about Dick. He just knew that he had been in love with you for years and he couldn’t take it anymore.

You turned back to the fence with his comment, but as soon as you blinked it had been completely redone. "REALLY WALLY?!" You grew more agitated with every passing moment.

"You're using it as a distraction!" He argued back.

"Of course I am! This whole trip is supposed to be one big distraction! A distraction from the two most important people in my life not caring about me. A distraction from the revelation that I'm completely alone." The words resonated through the air as you began to break down. As you felt your legs grow weak, you became pressed against Wally's chest. You didn't have the time or energy to protest. Somehow hours must have passed, as you heard the engine of Dick's motorcycle make its way down the winding road. Your eyes peered up at Wally, "I think this is the longest you've ever stood still." He didn't say anything but simply pressed a kiss to the top of your head as his friend rounded the corner.

You pulled yourself from Wally's arms as Dick approached you. Dick's expression softened as he realized the misery he was putting you through.

"Y/N. I'm sorry." In your 22 years of existence, you could count the number of times Dick Grayson had sincerely apologized on one hand. There was no blame thrown at you or vindication of his actions. Just a simple apology, an effort of recompense. "In actuality, I should've known. The way the two of you look at each other, talk about each other," He chuckled to himself. "I'm supposed to be a detective."

"So the two of you are done being jackasses then?" Your head bobbed from one to the other. The two looked at each other before nodding. "And you were stupid idiots who won't ever put me through something like this again?" Your actions, as well as there's, were repeated. "Fine. Let's go home."

Wally raced in front of you. "Wait. What does that mean for us?"

You shrugged, "I don't know. Guess I'm just hoping for someone who will actually stand up for me." Wally took your hands in his before pressing them to his lips.

"I always want to be there for you. I promise I'll never make that mistake again."

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angstysebfan · 3 years

Text

The Truth Will Set You Free - Part 7

Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader, Thor x Reader (other Avenger characters)

AU: Modern

Summary: You dated for two years, and thought he was the one for you. One day you came home and found him with someone else. After running away from you, you return home and found yourself in the arms of Thor. When Thor decides to introduce you to his friends at a dinner, you realize that there’s something familiar about the house you were visiting.

Warnings: implied cheating, language (not proofread)

You sit in your living room, ignoring the TV in front of you. You think about everything that has happened over the last several days and can’t believe the whirlwind you have faced. Who knew when Thor brought you to meet his friends, you would be faced with the horror that was your old life. Only then to find out that Bucky never cheated on you.

You don’t know what to think anymore. You care so much for Thor. He has been so patient and kind, and you know he cares about you, maybe even loves you. Then there is Bucky, who was your first love. The man you thought you would be married to and have a million babies with. But do you still hold that love for him?

You decided to distance yourself from both of them. Of course you spoke with Thor, who completely understood why you needed space. You decided to not reach out to Bucky, as you told him when you spoke you needed time. Knowing him, you knew he would reach out when he couldn’t stand it anymore. In your distance you decided to try and not think about it, at least for a little while. You needed to destress before you could even think about what to do.

As you sit there, “not thinking about it”, you hear a knock on your door. You get up, hoping and praying it’s not Bucky, because you are so not ready for that conversation. You open the door to reveal yet another person you really didn’t want to see. You say nothing and just stare.

Shuffling her foot against the ground she asks quietly, “Can I come in?”

You open the door wider and allow Nat to enter your apartment. “How did you find me? I don’t remember giving you my new address,” you say flatly.

You see her gulp and again look down, “Uh, Thor actually gave me the address,” she says.

You are honestly shocked he would do that, but keep your mouth shut as you sit back on the couch. “So what do you want?” you ask.

She takes a deep breath as she sits, making sure to keep space, “I-I told everyone the truth. Something that I should have done years ago. I just... I just want to apologize again for.. ruining your life in the process of my bullshit,” she says.

You give a breathless laugh, “Yea, ruining my life is a pretty accurate summary of what you have done to me,” you say.

You look at her again and see the pain in her face. You sigh, so tired of drama, “How did they take it?” you ask.

She looks at you in surprise of your question, “Well. They all still want to be my friend. They were upset with me about what happened with you and Bucky, because I took complete responsibility for that, but they all accept me,” she says.

You nod, “As I knew they would. Which is why I still don’t understand why you would hold onto that secret knowing what happened between you, me and Bucky,” you say, annoyed.

“I wish that I could give you a reason and make things better, but honestly, Y/N, the truth is I was scared. I didn’t want to accept that it was my fault. I didn’t want to lose any more friends, when I already lost the most important one in my life, and the second most important one,” she says.

You look at her confused, “The second?” you ask.

“Bucky kicked me out. He stopped talking to me. He finally spoke with Steve after I came over and apologized, but he still refused to come to most hang outs if he knew I was there. It took almost 2 years before he would be in the same room as me,” she said.

You look at her in surprise, unable to comprehend what she just heard. Nat continued, “Even now he barely talks to me, but at least he will hang out with us. Him asking me to meet to tell you the truth was the first time he has spoken to me in a very long time,” she says.

You knew at this point, you keeping your distance was going to be short lived. You had to speak to them both, but you still needed to time to figure out what to say. You still had more questions that needed answers, especially after this news. You look at Nat, “Well, even if you were scared, it’s not right to make me look like the bad guy. You and Bucky just let me look terrible to our friends,” you say.

You remember what Steve told you, and knew that you said, wasn’t 100% true, but you wanted Nat to feel bad after everything so you said it. Nat nodded, “You’re right. I’m selfish. I always have been. I liked being the center of attention and I love having people love me. When I thought that could slip away, I made sure it didn’t. When I knew Bucky wasn’t going to say anything, I decided to keep my mouth shut too. I never thought I would see you again. I know that sounds bad, but it’s the truth. I--” she stops and sighs.

“I loved you. I would have loved to have you love me back. I was ok with being your best friend because it gave me a piece of you. I would have stood beside you at your wedding and allow my heart to break into pieces to see you happy. When I ruined that? I- I lost myself and decided that if I couldn’t have you as a friend, then... I turned back into the selfish bitch I was. And all I can say to you is that I am so sorry. I know it doesn’t make it better,--”

“You’re right it doesn’t. Because while I can understand you being nervous and afraid to tell the people that you love that you are not who appear to be, it doesn’t give you the right to throw me under the bus to make yourself feel better,” you say and then scoff. “You say you love me, but I honestly don’t think you know the first thing about love, because you would never have let me reputation fall like that if you loved me,” you say.

Nat looks down at her hands and you see tears falling. “You know we can never go back to the way things were, right?” you ask her.

She refuses to look up at you but nods as the tears fall. You sigh, suddenly exhausted, “Whether I am with Thor or.... whatever, we cannot be friends. I will still hang out and will acknowledge your existence, but that will be all for a very long time,” you say.

Nat chokes on a sob as she nods, finally looking at you. “I--I understand. And no matter who you choose, you will have a man that loves you, and I promise to stay out of the way,” she says.

Before you can respond, she stands and walks out the front door. You sit there in silence for a moment before you finally cover your face with your hands and cry. If that was so difficult, how are you going to deal with your next decision?

Part 6 / Part 8

Sorry this took so long and was so short. I needed to get Nat’s part finalized so that we can now focus on the guys. Now who will she choose? I have heard your thoughts, and I have to say I am on the fence. We shall see in the coming parts. Feedback is appreciated.

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#Bucky Barnes #james bucky barnes #Bucky angst #bucky fanfic #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x natasha #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #Modern Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes angst

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miraculouslycool · 3 years

Text

across our great divide, there is a glorious sunrise

Summary: Once Hawkmoth is defeated, Ladybug rushes back to find her partner, to confess her love for him once and for all now that nothing was standing in their way. However, Chat Noir, one of the two halves of Paris' superhero team had vanished into thin air, nowhere to be found despite the sleepless nights of his lady combing an entire city to find him.Two months later, Ladybug meets Adrien in front of his mother's grave for the first time, and apologizes to him for ruining his life at the expense of her duty to Paris.

Note: this is an AU taking place after Hawkmoth was defeated where Adrien was homeschooled and therefore never met Marinette or Nino or any of his classmates, but was Chat Noir and only knew Ladybug as her superhero self.

Read in AO3:

Chapter 1:

Growing up, Adrien Agreste had gotten accustomed to silence. The silence in his lonely bedroom; the quiet, stern face Nathalie would put on while reviewing his work, the silence on his part that would follow a direct order he would inevitably obey.

The glare on his father wore when he slipped up in his fencing classes, or when he dared to ask what actually became of his mother spoke a lot more eloquently than any of his curt orders ever could.

And then one day, his life was surrounded by noise. One day, in return for his first and last attempt at going to public school, a chaotic kwami named Plagg flew out of a ring on his table, and his life had never been the same since. Plagg was the complete antithesis of his controlled life. He was chaotic, marked his territory wherever he went with cheese, and yowled and grumbled for it 10 times a day, but Adrien had never been happier. He had been given a responsibility to protect his city from a maniac who sent monsters every day to destroy it and to get his ring, and though he took it very very seriously, Plagg wasn’t just his friend, he was also his gateway to the outside world, and to Ladybug. In his head, Paris was a priority, but in his heart...Ladybug was.

Who he had desperately loved for the past 5 years.

Who he hadn’t really seen or talked to for the past 2 months.

Turns out finding that he lived with the maniac sending monsters every week to destroy him and his partner can change everything.

“Are we there yet?” Plagg bemoaned in his coat pocket. “How far away is it? You shouldn't let your bodyguard take the car with him.”

Despite his gloomy mood, Adrien smiled to himself. “You know I like to walk. And besides, I let you eat three wheels of cheese this morning, now that we’re on our own you can’t be eating every single minute like you used to.”

Plagg let out a grumpy snort, but didn’t say much after that.

Adrien gripped the white roses in his hand as he greeted the older security guard in the graveyard’s entrance, who tipped his hat and gave him a sympathetic smile in return.

Sympathy. That was all people seemed to spare for him these days.

Not that he was complaining, sympathy was what had gotten his Aunt Amelie to take over the Gabriel brand from London, and not leave several people’s livelihoods under his responsibility. Sympathy was when his cousin, who he generally knew to be someone who kept to himself, gave him a rare hug.

Sympathy was what he got when an entire city looked at him and saw a victim, and not a perpetrator in association with his father and Nathalie. Sympathy was what Officer Roger offered in the form of a cup of tea when he stormed out of his father’s prison that day.

Companionship was far and in between. Chloe visited him every week, left him with several applications for universities and a demand to look into them at least. Plagg was always there, no matter what, through the sleepless nights and lonely meals.

But they weren’t her.

He stopped when he saw his mother’s gravestone, the usual lump in his throat thickening. He had no one to blame but himself. Chat Noir was the one who walked away after seeing Gabriel Agreste carted away to prison by the authorities. Chat Noir was the one who ghosted Ladybug. And Chat Noir was the one who read Ladyblog updates about Ladybug’s solo, yet superficially useless patrols every single day and did nothing to fix it.

He had no right to complain about missing Ladybug when that was his doing.

Not that she’d be better off with him around.

“Hey again, mom.” Adrien managed to say as he placed the bouquet on his mother’s grave. “I-I know I said I wouldn’t be able to visit this week.” he stuttered stupidly, like a block of stone could resent him for interloping. “But yeah, I didn’t have much to do today so….” he trailed off, squatting in front of the gravestone. “Chloe dropped off a therapist’s number.” he managed to chuckle. “Pretty rich of her, don’t you think? She hates the very idea of therapy and doesn’t want to admit that she needs it too. She’s the most caring hypocrite ever.”

He couldn’t really find anything else to say. Which was even dumber, it wasn’t like there was anyone here who would get up and say that he was wasting away his life instead of getting it together.

He sat down on the grass, and twiddled with his thumbs for a while. Plagg, for his benefit, stayed hidden in his coat, letting out soft purrs every once in a while. He didn’t know what was worse: slowly coming to terms with the fact that his mother was dead, then finding out that she was in a coma and losing her all over again, or never really being able to understand why she had died, because his father was still being an asshole and refusing to answer him.

“You wouldn’t understand, Adrien.”

“If you didn’t understand why I became Hawkmoth, you’ll never be able to understand why your mother became sick.”

He realised then and there that his father would never know that he had spent the better part of his teenage years fighting against him. He didn’t deserve to know. Adrien didn’t want him to know, not someone as stubborn and…evil like him. He had practiced saying that word to describe his father after Plagg suggested it. It was like a bandaid for his bullet wounds for a while.

He started a little when he heard a familiar ‘whip’ behind him.

He’d know that sound anywhere. It was Ladybug’s yo-yo.

It couldn’t possibly be. He was just missing her so much it was starting to get to his head. Yeah. That was a reasonable explanation.

“H-hello.”

Adrien yelped as he stood up and spun around.

It was her.

Ladybug, his partner, his other half, was standing there, her hands raised up in peace.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you!” She stammered.

“It’s okay.” Adrien managed to squeak out. This was the first time he was seeing her in 8 weeks.

His heart thumped heavily as he got ready to fold into himself in guilt at leaving her high and dry. Imagine his surprise when he found out that she was doing the same.

“I can leave if you want me to.” She said in a small voice, and that reminded him that he wasn’t suited up as Chat Noir at the moment. “I don’t want to impose, I didn’t realise you were in the middle of-” she gulped audibly, then bowed and took out her yoyo. “Never mind, please forgive me, I’ll get going now-”

“Wait!” Adrien cut her off before she left and deprived him of his chance to see her again.

Ladybug stiffened and did as he said. His tongue felt dry as he gave the love of his life a once over. The voice that came out of her mouth was indeed hers, but it certainly didn’t sound anything like her. He had heard her loudly denounce his jokes and his attempts at flirting, he had heard her talk gently and kindly to confused akuma victims, he had seen her doubt herself and worry if they were going to make it. This was none of those instances.

“May I ask what you are doing here?” He remembered to sound polite somehow. He was Adrien Agreste now, the son of her worst enemy, not her partner Chat Noir, who had abandoned her.

He remembered with a painful pang how he used to tease her about her height, but she couldn’t have looked any smaller than she did then. Her eyes held fear, like she was expecting him to lash out at her.

“I...I was just in the neighbourhood.” she said. “And I saw you here, and I was hoping to talk to you- have been hoping to talk to you for a while now - not that I was stalking you!”

Something warm in Adrien’s chest bloomed, but it wasn’t enough to make him crack a smile. “No, it’s alright. I understand what you meant. What can I do for you, Ladybug?”

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

Was she going to ask him for an update on the status of his father? His heart sank. Ladybug was never a malicious person, but he supposed she was practical enough to do this.

“Do you want to know about any suspicious activity from my father?”

Ladybug’s eyes went round as saucers. “No! No, not at all! I didn’t- I would never- I mean, I wanted to- I came here to apologize?” she finished off awkwardly.

“Apologize?” Adrien echoed.

She nodded mutely. “I know that this will never make up for what happened, but -” she fisted her palms and exhaled. “I am so sorry Adrien. What happened to you, what he did to you - I can’t imagine what it is like to be in your situation right now and I have been kicking myself every day for being the one to put you in this position. I wanted to come and see you at your mother’s funeral, have been wanting to do it for a while actually but...with everything that was going on I didn’t think you’d really want to see the girl who put your father behind bars right?” she awkwardly laughed, rubbing the back of her neck.

Adrien blinked in confusion.

She was blaming herself for defeating Hawkmoth?

Why should she?

‘A-anyway! I just wanted to tell you that, and if you need any help with anything you need, please, just give the Ladyblog a buzz and I’ll be right there! If you want to. No pressure. If you want me to steer clear of you I can understand that too. The last thing I want to do is offend you-”

“Ladybug.” he interrupted her gently. “It’s okay.”

She blinked right back at him.

“I do not blame you for that. At all.” He crossed his arms as he gave her a reassuring smile. It was very much like her to go out and take responsibility if she felt like she did something wrong. Doesn’t mean he’d actually let her do it. “My father...he was a terrible man. He put several people’s lives in danger and kept on doing it for years, and you are the reason this city isn’t burning to the ground right now. You should be really proud.” he said sincerely. “Paris owes everything to you. You don’t have to feel bad for doing the right thing.”

Ladybug’s shoulders slumped, even though her expression looked less pained now. “You can still be angry with me, you know.”

“I’m not.” he insisted. “Believe me, I’m not. Thank you for coming here to talk to me though.” he twisted his ring nervously. “I greatly appreciate it.”

“Of course.” Ladybug nodded, giving him a small smile. “Will you let me know if you need anything? I’d be happy to help.”

‘What if I told you that I needed you?’ he thought helplessly.

Adrien nodded, without saying anything.

“Have a good day, Adrien.” Ladybug said with a shy wave, before pulling out her yo yo and swinging away.

Adrien walked up to the nearest bench and collapsed into a heap.

“Sooooooo.” Plagg popped out of his collar. “When are you going to tell her?”

“Shut up.”

#my fics #ladrien #ladybug x adrien #angst #hurt/comfort #post hawkmoth

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kerie-prince · 3 years

Text

We’re Worlds Apart (1)

Draco Malfoy x American No-Maj/Muggle fem!reader

Post-Battle of Hogwarts

warnings: language

series m.list | general m.list

summary: Draco Malfoy is a pureblood wizard. Magic runs through his veins and has been since his birth. You're a Wiccan No-Maj; a non-magical being with ordinary blood through your veins, but practices what you call magick. And this very practice upsets your neighbor.

(gif cred)

"They want... me?"

Draco Malfoy sat across his supervisor in his office at St. Mungos. His eyes widened at the offer he was given.

"Well Mr. Malfoy, you've certainly shown us around here that you do well at your job. If I must say so myself, I believe you're ready for the job," his boss has explained. Draco had recently finished his Fellowship and became a remarkable Healer. So much so that the Santa Marie Hospital for Maj Persons in Buffalo, New York contacted his supervisor to offer him a position as Head Healer. It was an incredible opportunity, one that a person could only dream of.

Draco sat still in his chair, shocked that of all Healers from his department, Santa Marie wanted him. After the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco was determined to change the views people had of him. He was no longer the prejudice prat that he was at school. Draco Lucius Malfoy is now a matured, capable young man. He worked hard and was proud that he did everything on his own. No help from daddy dearest, no pressure of the Malfoy name. It was all him.

"I would love to take this job. When would I start?"

Draco finished filing his paperwork at the Ministry of Magic that was to be sent to the Magical Congress of the United States containing his work permit and all the necessary identification. Walking around London, he grew excited about it. It was a feeling he hadn't felt since he got his letter for Hogwarts.

The next thing he has left to do was to find housing. There was an office located in Diagon Alley that specialized in international real estate. Draco walked into the brightly lit office. Much to his surprise, Daphne Greengrass stood at the reception desk.

"Well, well. Long time no see, Malfoy," she said with a smile on her lips. He was quite relieved to see a familiar face. "Good to see you too, Daph. I'm checking in to see Ms. Moreau. I'm moving to America soon." Daphne was both shocked and impressed that Draco would be making such a big move. They chatted momentarily about the reason for him moving and she congratulated him. Soon enough, the real estate agent walked out and called Draco into her office.

She sat at her desk and gestured for him to take the seat opposite her. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Malfoy."

"The feeling is mutual, Ms. Moreau," Draco had slightly bowed his head.

"Please, call me Gwen," she smiled as she reached to shake his hand, "I see from your paperwork that you're moving to America, correct?" he nodded his head in response. "Fantastic! Now, looking at the locations for Buffalo, we have quite a bit of selections from houses to flats. Of course, in America they're called 'apartments'. With your budget, you would be able to get this nice house that is just a 10 minute drive to the Apparition office to Santa Marie's." She showed Draco pictures of the house. It was quaint. An all white, one story house that had three bedrooms, a lifted porch, small kitchen, two bathrooms, trimmed green grass in front and a dark stained wooden fence that went around the house. Draco nearly fell in love with it. Its contrast to the Malfoy Manor was warm and inviting.

Gwen had shown him pictures of the other places she had gathered for him, but none of them peeked his interest as the first house did. It was quite silly as he thought about it. Most likely, he would be working long hours at the hospital to even be able to appreciate the home. It made more sense to get an apartment as he would most likely just use the space to sleep and eat. But the house was begging for him to live there. After about an hour long session, Draco made his final decision on the small house.

"Excellent choice, I had hoped you'd love it. Now, before I contact the sellers about your offer, I must let you know this before you sign anything," Draco shifted in his seat. Of course there had to be a catch. A house this perfect needed one thing to go wrong. Was it busted windows? A terrible neighborhood? Shitty pipelines? He nodded for her to continue.

"This is an integrated neighborhood. Both muggles and wizards live around and you might not know which are which for a while." Muggles. He sat in silence, staring down at the photos of the house. Did he really want a muggle neighbor? No, you're past this Draco thought. The old Draco wouldn't even give the place a second thought. But he wasn't him anymore. "I don't care. I'll take it."

—

You woke up in the morning, stretching your arms and legs out of the thick blanket. It was currently 8:47 am, your alarm clock beside you still had 13 minutes to alert you to wake up. Deciding to just get a head start on the day, you walked into the your bathroom and started your shower. The water was at the hottest you took and you went about your daily routine. You said your repeated incantations in the shower as you lathered yourself with soap:

Water, water, wash away. Water, water, cleanse today.

Walking out your shower, you grabbed your towel and recited the next spell as you dried yourself:

By the earth in the soap,

by the air in the steam,

by the fire that heats the water,

by the water that cleanses,

I am cleansed, clean, and ready for the day.

When you were 12 years old, you used to watch your grandmother perform Wicca in her bedroom. Your mother didn't particularly join in on the belief, but also didn't oppose to you starting alongside your grandmother when you turned 18. Now, you were almost 26 and still kept on the same practices.

On the contrary to people's interpretation or views of witchcraft, you called yourself a White Witch; someone who performs good magick upon selfless reasons. You never hexed anyone nor wished any ill fate. The Laws of Nature was surely watching at all times and if you did, expect to get the same fate but in threefold. Not that you even had any reason to do such things, anyways.

After getting ready, you grabbed your bag, keys — which held a protection charm — and went on your way to work. Your cat sat in her tower located in your living room and she watched you walk out. Getting into your car, you noticed movement next door. A big, moving truck was parked and a crew of movers carried furniture into the house. Finally, someone new you thought.

Feeling nosy, you sat patiently to figure out who it was moving next door. Was it a family? An elderly couple? Maybe newlyweds. Right when you were about to pull out of your driveway, a handsome blond stepped out of the house guiding the movers where things were going to be placed. You couldn't hear his voice, but could tell from the distance that it had to be attractive.

He looked around the street and caught you starting from your car. You hesitantly raised your hand to wave at him but was cut off by a man walking up to him with a clipboard gesturing where to sign. You looked at the time on your watch and nearly panicked at how the time passed, leaving you with only 15 minutes to get to work. Hauling ass, your car let a screech out as your foot punched the gas pedal. You'll be able to introduce yourself later, Y/N.

—

A few days passed and Draco was headed for the Apparition office to his new workplace. He had leased a new car to drive there. According to the Magical Congress, wizards and witches that lived in integrated neighborhoods must check in at Apparition offices to not raise suspicions from No-Maj. Seemed quite silly at first, but it really wasn't that big of a deal. He remembers the first time he went to Diagon Alley with his father through the Leaky Cauldron, finding it hidden with a wall that required taps against it. Behind it, a magical alley hidden from muggles.

He pulled into the office building lot with ease. It was clean on the outside and had a sign on top that only read MCA Co,. At the front door, there was a pin pad with numbers on it that kept it locked. Draco pulled the paper from his pocket and dialed the number. The door made a clicking noise which signaled that it was unlocked.

In the front was a young man sat at a reception desk typing away onto a computer. It was a strange sight for Draco as he's never seen one before. He walked up to the desk and waited for the person to acknowledge him.

"Hello, sir. Welcome to the Magical Congress' Apparition Office. May I see your ID pass, please?"!the accent was unfamiliar to Draco, but he nonetheless reached for the pass clipped to his trousers and gave it to the receptionist. He scanned the pass, handed it back to Draco and raised up from his chair to guide Draco to the door which had a direct line to the hospital. "Have a good day, sir!" were his last words before he went back to his desk.

Draco looked at the address once more before appariting into Santa Marie's. Here goes nothing.

—

It was a long day at the office. Setting up appointments with new clients, greeting all the new people he'd be working with, and a surprise welcome party to end it. Everyone he met had different variations of American accents. Some from Chicago, some from California, and some from the native state of New York.

A man by the name of Ian Parker helped Draco navigate around the building. Draco was quite relieved to hear that Ian had lived close by, just two blocks and a turn away. They had lunch together and talked about just simple things about each other. It felt nice to meet somebody and they not know who you are and things you've done in the past.

Once he got home, the first thing Draco did was start to run the shower, gathering his sleepwear as the water heated up. Not meaning to, Draco noticed how his bedroom window had perfect view of yours. To him, it was extremely odd.

You had faux vines that curled around your four-poster bed, a couple of plants that hung against the wall and posters of movies that Draco knows for a fact he's never seen in his life. You walked into your room and went up to a small drawer and dug through it. After a few seconds, you grabbed out some incense sticks, lit them and stood them on the stand that laid on your dresser. Afterwards, you sat on the floor with your legs crossed and started taking deep breaths.

Draco caught himself staring for too long and was about to head into the shower until he saw movement from the corner of his eye. There you sat, but this time, you held items in your hands. One held what Draco thought to be just some colorful rocks. The other hand held a bundle of herbs on fire at the tips. Your lips moved and it had Draco curious. Your hand with the herbs moved in a specific pattern, creating smoke around you. Once you finished, you set the rocks and herbs down at a table and left the room. That was odd. Draco thought. He passed it off and went on about his night.

—

"It was the weirdest thing I've ever seen. And trust me when I say that Hogwarts has its fair shares of odd moments," Draco sat in the break room with Ian and two other people, Ashley and Blaine. They laughed at the description Draco had of you and settled after Ian began his explanation.

"It seems that your No-Maj neighbor is considered a Wiccan." What in Merlin's name is that?

"Pardon? What's do you mean?"

"It's what they call witchcraft," Ashley added, "it became a popular thing after the Salem Witch Trials. Of course, there's no real magic to it like what we can do, but they nonetheless believe it works."

Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing. Muggles are trying to be witches? This was probably the last thing he ever thought he would hear. Inside, a familiar feeling had ignited. A feeling he had, or he supposed still had, for a certain species. He didn't like it but to find out that what he is had become a fantasy to be was upsetting. He was born into this life, not them. Not you.

—

It had been a really nice day at work. People had been kind and you sold out of a new oil you made. As you entered your home, your cat ran up to your legs and purred against you. You smile down at her and made your way to prepare your dinners.

She nibbled away at her bowl and you watched in content.

Outside, you heard a car pulling in. It's probably him. You peaked out the window in the living room and your guess was correct. He stepped out of a black car and walked to his door. You tried catching his attention by waving your arms about, hoping he glanced your way. When he did, you waved excitedly to him.

He stared at you with a straight face, no hint of any feeling. It was odd, people usually like you and wave back but this guy was just looking at you. Not doing anything. You looked around to see if there was something behind you, only to look back and see that he was gone. Ooo...kay?

You grabbed your sweater and decided to introduce yourself to your new neighbor. It had been almost a week and it seemed that he still hadn't acquainted himself to anyone on the street. The cool, spring breeze sent a pleasant chill down your spine as you walked on the sidewalk.

Once you stepped in front his door, you knocked three times. No answer. Three more times. No answer. The lights that were on had turned off and curtains had been shut in almost a blink of an eye. He had made it clear that he was not in a mood to talk to anyone. It slightly hurt your feelings, but you told yourself to not dwell on it. He's just tired from work. Just then, an idea popped in your mind as you headed back home.

—

"Stupid fucking muggle clock," Draco cursed as he was running around his bedroom getting dressed. He overslept by an hour and had 10 minutes to be in the Apparition office to go to work. Damn American laws.

He grabbed an apple, not his usual sour green one but a sweet red one this time, grabbed his bag and ran for the front door. Something taped to the door caught his attention and he halted his movements. It seemed to have been a note someone left. He unfolded the paper and read it to himself;

Hello! My name's Y/N and I wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood! I hope we can become good friends~ if there's anything you need or if you'd ever like to get acquainted over coffee, please feel free to knock on my door! It'd be nice to get to know you :)

At the bottom of the note was a small drawing of a witches pointed hat and Draco immediately knew who left the note. Almost on instinct, the note caught on fire in his hands and the ashes fell to the ground. He dusted his hand off and went to work. As if we would ever become friends.

—

next chp

taglist: @beiahadid @malfoy-styles-wife @fivenightslaughter

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy au #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x you #draco x y/n #draco x you

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pepperpills · 3 years

Text

The Harvest - RE8 fanfic

The Harvest

A Resident Evil 8 fan fiction by Joana

Karl Heisenberg x Female Reader

NSFW content

Hi, guys, hope u're enjoying it and if u want, feel free to send a message and share your thoughts.

This is the second half of Part I, when The Harvest actually takes place, as I promised I would be posting it today. Part II will be out next tuesday and has more of Karl's participation.

Part I - Destiny (1)

Part I - Destiny (2)

The site was formed by four giant statues, each one in a corner, in the opposite side of the gate, a low stone fence protected people from falling from a cliff into the misty unknown that laid below. All of its surroundings were made of grey, antique stone, carved directly into the mountain. In the middle stood a symbol in the ground in the shape of an umbrella where the Giant’s Chalice was placed.

Mother Miranda was right in the middle, dressing her usual priest like costume, only this time her areola was bigger. The parents, your parents included, with their anxious expressions, were on the left side, forming a mid-circle. No other villagers were allowed in The Harvest except the children’s guardians, it was exclusive. You smiled to your folks reassuring them that you were okay, prepared. Your mom buried her head deeper in your father chest, but smiled insecurely back at you.

You couldn’t help the feeling that a couple of eyes were laid on you, you felt observed and finally gave up to your curiosity and stared at the lords. Closer to Mother Miranda, on the right side of the site, stood tall Lady Dimitrescu, the tallest person you have ever seen and also one of the most elegant. She wore a white dress that resembled the Greek columns with three black roses on it, red lipstick and a black wide hat. She seemed excited as she analysed the 20s.

Then followed Lady Beneviento, her face covered in a grief veil, she was all dressed in black, except for her doll, Angie, who wore an unclean wedding dress and was laughing almost hysterically for no reason. It would have given you the chills if you weren’t so strangely calm.

The next was Lord Moreau, forever bowed with that bone crown topping his head, he looked like he enjoyed the spirit of the festival, more entertained by its totality than the young people there.

And at last, Lord Heisenberg, a couple of steps from you as you all closed the circle. He was smoking a cigar, making a mess of bracing smoke. He was wearing round sunglasses even though it was already very dark there, his clothes were crumpled and even a bit dirty, but had an explorer’s charm to it as he wore a once-white half unbuttoned shirt, a worn hat, a camel-coloured overcoat and some kind of baggy pants.

You had the uncanny feeling it was his glance that caught you since you arrived there, but couldn’t be sure, once his eyes were hidden from you. The other thing you noticed was that he has kind of handsome with his somewhat grey hair on the height of his bearded chin. Overall, he seemed rough, a brute beauty, but beauty anyway.

The air became denser, like it was charged with electricity, however, scanning your mates, everyone appeared to be still bewitched by Beneviento’s powers, paying attention only to Mother Miranda. It had nothing to do with you disliking Miranda ever since you laid your feet in the Village. No, this was another thing. You were attracted by something else, tempted even to look to your right. Being too suggestible to battle this urge, you moved your head only to be certain that Lord Heisenberg was looking straight at you.

You quickly turned your attention back to Miranda as she played with a black liquid inside the Giant’s Chalice. She called you all her children and made a speech about destiny and natural forces that pull you to it.

“Night demands you, my children. The moon reveals your fate and today your sacrifice will be noticed.” Miranda chanted, her voice floating through all of you, reverberating the ground.

She blessed you, walking the circle and pinning a dot of the Chalice’s black liquid in your foreheads. It moved, itching a little, as her words filled the ceremony site.

“Very well.” She spoke. “Now I shall call your names, the ones I call, please step to the right part of the site, the ones I don’t, to the left.”

A shiver flowed through your spine, awakening every part of your body, bristling your hair, hardening your nipples making you feel completely unclad – which kind of reached the ceremony idea of a virgin blossoming. The sensation was curiously similar to electrical shock, even the iron taste on your tongue reminded you of the electricity discharge, nonetheless, for your surprise, it wasn’t exactly unpleasant, definitely made your feel alive and even dilatated your pupils.

When it happened, you swore your heard Lord Heisenberg chuckling alone, he was contained for obvious reasons, but it disturbed you to see a smirk playfully on his scarred thick lips. No one else appeared to be bothered though, they hadn’t noticed the man acting schizophrenic, but it also made sense, they were all absorbed by Miranda’s discourse and, somehow, that grin was intended, presumably, only for you.

Just then you realized that Miranda had already been calling names and people were actually moving around you. Two of the boys who came with you were now on the very right side of the site. You were getting tense, the magical feeling that drove you to that place was slowly fading away, giving space to the cold sensation of fear. The girl to your left got called, she lost her breath as she heard her name, but rapidly joined her new, and temporary, team.

You looked up to your parents, your mom had that overwhelmed expression lines on her forehead again and you were most sure she was crossing fingers as she is a little stitious, not super, though.

Right now, you don’t believe that any herb, crystal, sacrifice, nor witchcraft would have spare you from your doom. A part of you knew it, even at that moment, as Mother Miranda made your name thunder in the site. Your mom held a scream, your dad looked down. You must go on.

Trembling a little, you went to the right side, closer to Lord Heisenberg, as he was the last one on the lords’ line. Your mates were rigid, the other girl was holding tears, one of the boys had desperate written all over his face, but the other one preferred to show bravery and you chose to stay with him in his decision. It didn’t past unnoticed to Heisenberg, but he constantly peering at you wasn’t of your greater attention, so on you didn’t acknowledge his offbeat interest.

You weren’t going to lie to yourself, you were afraid. You didn’t want Lady Dimitrescu to use your blood in her famous Sanguis Virginis, neither to be with Lady Beneviento and her forever tea party, Lord Moreau frightens you, due to your thalossophobia and for Lord Heisenberg, his temper is well known and poorly spoken by the villagers, he tends to get angry easily, not to say that no one knows what goes on in that factory, the bridge that leads to it emerges from the water, activated by some sort of mechanism that is inaccessible from the Village, so no one goes in, no one comes out.

When The Harvest ended, the villagers were exempted before the Miranda and her family, and you were allowed to go home, the lords knew you were supposed to say goodbye to your loved ones, after all, they aren’t monsters, right?

Thus, you walked back home in your parents embrace, they didn’t let you go, neither you wanted it. Being held like that made it feel better as if you had a bad dream and that was all. Your mother even sang you your favourite childhood song about a girl who gets lost in the dangerous woods inhabited by four monsters and a malevolent witch, but in the end, her parents save her from the beasts.

In the dawn, no villager was asleep, so you spoke to a lot of people, all your siblings, friends and acquaintances. Some of them cried, others smiled and a couple encouraged you saying it was going to be okay. You doubted it, but didn’t say a thing, you were too shaken still trying to be brave.

When the sun rose, you heard the chicken starting their day. You got up, put on a Victorian black dress with long sleeves and a corselet for the thorax area, and packed your few belongings, taking good care of your bow and arrows that once were a secret and now, you thought, might be discarded, but you would still be stubborn and give it a try, maybe they would let you have it.

You left the bedroom, leaving behind your talisman made by the cabin people with a note to your younger sister. Once she was born in the Village, she didn’t know much about the cabins, but you were sure it would protect her after you were gone.

You believed you could go away unnoticed, but your mom was sitting in the kitchen table, waiting for you, looking restless, but she found vitality to smile a good morning at you.

“You look pretty.” She said as she walked towards you and twirled your hair.

“Thank you, mom.” You simply replied, thinking that touch was soothing.

“We will miss you.” She sighed. “I will miss you, deeply, my angel.” Your mom is one of the kindest people you know, she always took good care of you even when you got older, you will miss her too.

“I will miss you too, mom… I love you.” You added and hugged her. You must be strong; her smell of country flowers softened you tempting you to run away from your fate.

“Promise you will try to write.” She pleaded, staring into your soul with her woody-brown eyes.

“I promise.” You meant it and did afterwards.

“It is okay, angel, you may go now, I won’t make it any harder.” She stepped aside, giving you space to walk to the door, when there you looked back one last time and waved goodbye.

At the ceremony site, they said you should gather again at the Chapel. A part of the building is destroyed, you are not sure what was responsible for it, but there are parts of the ceiling and the ground that are missing and underground tunnels with Gods know what meandering under your feet. The others arrived not long after you and less than an hour later Mother Miranda joined you.

She spoke from the pulpit. This sight gave you an uneasiness. You never liked her manners, always thought she considered herself too much of a priest, but you were not sure for what gods she spoken, in addition, she was also very domineering. There were stories of her whispered by mourning souls saying that she would tear some locals apart while laughing and enjoying the bloody spectacle. Maybe she was crazy. Believing it or not, she didn’t please you at all.

“Children.” She began. “Destiny calls you. You must fulfil your role in this circle. It is a sacrifice for all of us, so we can preserve our way of life.” Miranda went on like this for some more minutes before getting to the point.

“Each one of you has been designated or requested by one of the four lords. I will now say your name and the name of your Lord.” She finally said.

Your heart rate was worrying, your anxiety levels were high. You breathed heavily, trying to regain composure. Miranda called the brave boy first, he went to Moreau. Two girls got sent to the Dimitrescu’s castle, one more boy went to Moreau, another girl went to Lady Beneviento. Thus, there was only you left and Miranda’s phrase reverberated through the Chapel with its angelical acoustic turning horrifying.

“Y/N. Lord Karl Heisenberg.”

Your stomach sunk. You didn’t know if you were relieved or even more preoccupied. But then you felt that shock sensation again, the iron taste made you salivate and you thought it might have been worst, maybe all he expects from you is some cleaning, laundry and your normal daily routine.

Still, one thing that Miranda said echoed in your head: did you get designated or did he request you? You didn’t know which one would be better.

#resident evil #re8 #karl heisenberg #re village #karl heisenberg x reader #resident evil 8 village #heisenberg #heisendaddy #heisenberg resident evil #resident evil viii #resident evil 8 fanfic #original post #resident evil village #re8 karl heisenberg #resident evil heisenberg #fanfic #re fanfic #the harvest

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always-against-the-grain · 3 years

Text

farewell

Summary: You meet someone from Negan’s life. Continuation of thirds

Pairing: AU Negan x reader ((female, named Eddie) and others)

Tags: AU Negan, Negan smut, Negan x reader, rough-ish smut

A/N: no proof read. we die like men. also hella long

Your farewell party was towards its end. Only a few of your friends and family members remained.

You were hanging out by the bonfire sipping on your seltzer.

You glanced over at Negan who was congregating with other adults. He was preoccupied with his phone. He typed a messaged and slide it back into his front pocket before saying goodbye to your dad.

“Hey, Klaus, I’m gonna head out” he said giving him a hand shake and half a hug

“We’ll see you” your dad said

“Bye Frankie, thank you” he gently shook your moms hand with both hands

“Anytime” your mom said gracefully

Negan then approached you across the yard, “Eddie. Good luck out there”

He gave you a very appropriate hug, contradicted by what he whispered in your ear, “Come for your gift later. Back door is unlocked”

You had to have a another piece of him before you left for another semester.

—————————

Once the party died down and your folks slipped into bed, you hopped the fence to Negan’s yard.

You came through the back door. Trying to be quiet, knowing the night hours amplified every sound.

After you slid the glass door shut you turned to face the room and noticed a woman standing in his kitchen fixing a drink.

You locked eyes with her. Your heart dropped to your belly.

“I- uh- I’m sorr-“ you began explaining, stepping backwards, your arm blindly searching behind for the door handle.

“Relax Eddie. Negan said you’d be stopping by” her voice surprisingly calming.

She walked around the corner of the island, two glasses in hand. Your heart pumped harder with every click of her heels. You couldn’t help but notice how her navy blue pant suit hugged her lower half perfectly. Her white blouse teasingly revealing her chest.

As the distance closed between you you admired her facial features. Sharp jaw, crisp eyebrows, and an average nose on warm ivory skin.

You watch her full long lips move in slow motion “Whisky or wine?”

“Uh- Whiskey” you said softly after the words registered.

“Good, cause I’m Italian” she laughed and handed you your drink.

I can’t be sober right now you advised yourself, and immediately took a swig, keeping a stoic expression as the alcohol burned your throat.

“Whoa! Didn’t even flinch!” she commented.

“Comn lets have a seat” she said as a gentle hand pushed you towards the living room couch.

You sat anxiously. Elbows on your knees, sweaty palms clutching your glass tumbler.

She sat more comfortably, leaned back, her outside leg crossed over her other, and torso rotated to face you.

Before she started any conversation you blurted out, “who are you?”

“You probably should have asked the sooner. Stranger danger, y’know” she joked.

“But who you do you think I am?” She asked curiously. Taking a sip of her wine.

“Uh, I think you’re the main lady, and I’m a home wrecker and I shouldn’t be here” you took another gulp of your drink, trying to dilute your fear.

“Well, I am the other lady-“

Oh god. You immediately brought the drink back to your mouth, but her hand tapped yours, keeping you from drinking too quickly.

“But I know who you are. And you’re not a home wrecker. Negan is my partner and I’m his, and we’re open”

Relief washed over you.

“You know you could’ve have led with that. Not this ‘I am the main lady’ shit” you mocked her, your defenses quickly falling with the new information.

“I know, but you just seemed fun to play with” she giggled.

“I’m Diana”

“So, Diana, Negan has told you about me huh” you were a bit embarassed. Not knowing what negan shared exactly.

Did he tell her you just had sex or did he provide details? Did he tell her how he fucked you in your bathroom with company right outside? Or how he held you down and came on your face?

“Yes. He has”

There was a short streak of silence before you spoke again, “How do you do that?”

She finished her sip, softly smacking her tongue on the roof of her mouth to savor her wine, before clarifying your question, “Do what hon?”

“Be with other people?” You sought guidance on your own relationship

“Well for one, we trust and respect each other. And we’re honest. So it’s not cheating.”

“When one of us sleeps with someone else we tell each other, get tested. And teach other new tricks” She smiled mischievously before taking another sip of her wine.

“But it’s not for everyone” she added when she saw your not so eager expression

You nodded, really listening to what she had to say.

“So how’d you meet?” You asked leaning back.

“I’ve known Negan for years actually. But we didn’t start a relationship until a year and some months ago.”

“I’m a physical therapist and I was working with one of his athletes after ACL reconstruction. And he stopped by well into her rehab program - with her parents of course - to clarify what she could and couldn’t do during practice. So I met negan then, that was about 8 years go”

“I’ve worked with a couple other of his athletes since then. He joins an appointment once in a while to check in on restrictions”

“But the first time we dated was after we ran into each other at a bar. He had just lost his wife and I was fresh off a divorce. We were there for eachother, emotionally... physically.”

“Though we didn’t last the first time. We were on and off again for like a year. We couldn’t stay loyal. We eventually found our way back, when we realized we couldn’t stay loyal to other people either.” She laughed.

“And here we are. Together, happy, understood.”

You nodded, getting a bigger picture of the situation.

“Where is Negan by the way?” You looked over the couch thinking he was hiding somewhere

“He went out to get some wine” she swirled her empty glass before setting it on the table

“Told him to re-stock before I got here. But he didn’t listen. Tells me he was a little busy.”

You knew that comment was a shot at you

Before you could respond you both heard the open and looked over the back of the couch to see negan walk in with a brown bag.

“Hey Eddie! You’re here!” He said excitedly un-phased by his girlfriend sitting next to you.

He walked over to you both

“Hey Dee” greeting her with a soft kiss

It looked so natural.

“Got your favorite,” he gestured at the wrapped bottle, lifting it slightly.

Negan walked into his kitchen and began prepping his glass.

“I’ll get you a refill” Diana tapped your thigh as she stood up and walked with both glasses to Negan.

You heard a quiet conversation between them and thought it best to leave.

“Hey, so I’m gonna head out” you stood up, “nice meeting you,” you gestured awkwardly.

“What! Eddie no, you gotta open your gift first” Negan said while pouring wine into the the two glasses.

“Ah, thanks negan, I’m sure it can wait—“

“Eddie.” Diana interjected.

She walked toward to you, until she was mere inches away. She was shorter than Negan but taller than you. Even without the heels you were sure she’d still have 3-4 inches on you.

“Are you sure you wanna leave?” She lightly put her hands on your hips.

You looked toward Negan. He just casually took a sip of his wine. Then It clicked.

She was your gift.

Your silence was enough for her. She slowly leaned in, giving you an opportunity to pull away.

Your soft lips met hers.

God it felt different. You wouldn’t say better than Negan or other men, but something about kissing this beautiful, grown woman was quenching something you didn’t know you were thirsty for.

Your alcohol infused tongues exchanges flavors but it didn’t stop you from continuing.

Diana pulled away. Too soon for your liking.

“Can I take this off?” She toyed with zipper of your hoodie.

You were completely underdressed but you didn’t expect an encounter with a professional woman. You expected a quick, hard farewell fuck.

You swallowed audibly.

“Yes,” your voice cracked slightly.

You weren’t wearing a bra. Your breasts immediately shifted outside your clothing as your zipper opened up. Her hands dragged up along your ribs, her touch trigged goosebumps causing your nipples to perk up.

“I like these,” she said kissing you again as her fingers pinched your pierced buds. Harder than you expected, not painful, but her force caused your mouth fall open breaking the contact with your lips.

She laughed, proud but not surprised that she was making you act like this. She brought her lips back to continue kissing you.

With your eyes closed, tongue busy, your hands reached to untuck her blouse. Her hands stopped their mannerisms on your nipples and gripped your wrists and pushed them away

“Nuh-uh” she rejected your actions.

Her hands till wrapped around your wrists, she walked you backwards to the couch you were just sitting on. Diana went down to her knees. She leaned to kiss your navel, simultaneously undoing your jean button. She kissed up your abdomen, between your breast. As more of her body made contact with you, your hips began grinding up.

She took a nipple into her mouth. Sucking on it before lightly biting it.

“Ahh” you moaned as she hooked her teeth on your horizontal jewelry and pulled up - how negan had done the first time.

They definitely exchanged notes. She switched to the other nipple and did the same.

“Take these off” she gripped the hem of your pants.

You lifted your hips of the couch and she helped pull them through your legs. Exposing your wet pussy to her.

“Look at that” she brought her fingers to your womanhood and spread your juices.

You looked down the middle of your chest, Diana between your legs.

Without warning Diana sucked on you clit. Swirling her toungue around it at the same time.

“Oh god!” You whined “fuck!”

She started softly and quickly increased her suction causing you to squirm. Diana swooped her hands under your knees to pin your lower half open to her. Her force spreading your legs was comfortable, enough to limit your movements but not stretching you to your limits as most men would do.

She stopped completely. Pissing you off a little.

“You wanna come?” She asked, already knowing your answer

You nodded.

She returned her mouth to your center. Sticking her tongue out, her eyes locked on yours. She barely flicked your nerve bundle with just the tip.

“Ughhh” escaped you wantonly, your pelvis pushing towards her mouth.

She flicked it little more roughly every subsequent time until she had your whole clit back between her lips. Her tongue working harder than before.

“Mmmhhh!” You groaned intensely. Biting some of the fabric of your hoodie that you were still wearing.

“Oh god- Oh god” you moaned louder and squirmed harder.

Diana’s had to force you down more. “Ugh! Fu- fu- I’m gon—“

“Motheerfuckker!” Both hands pulled downward on the open waistband of your hoodie while your back extended - so much thought it was gonna snap

You rode out your orgasm, instinctively grinding your pussy on Diana’s mouth.

Your eyes closed as your chest continued to rise and fall heavily. Diana gave one of your inner thigh light pecks before releasing your knees from her grasp. She came up to your lips, her hands using the back of the couch as leverage, then you tasted yourself on her tongue.

“You’re beautiful Eddie” she whispered to you.

“Does she always come that hard?” She asked Negan, who you had forgotten was in the room.

“Hardest I’ve seen her” Negan said.

“Though, she’s always sensitive afterwards, which you know I like” he smiled

Diana looked at your eyes, and unexpectedly brought her soft fingers back down to your clit.

You automatically crossed your legs and tried to flip over under Diane.

Both Negan and Diana giggled. You followed suit, really having enjoyed your present.

“That’s cute Eddie” Diana commented on your reaction, sucking on your neck before getting up to walk over to Negan.

Negan handed her a second glass of wine and your whiskey glass.

Diana passed the drink on to you. You took a small swig and set it down on the table and reached for your pants on the floor.

Negan and Diane began kissing each other passionately, not minding your taste between them.

The smacking of their tongues and lips echoed softly.

You pulled your jeans up your thighs with your hoodie remaining unzipped.

Diana noticed you prepared to exit and stopped her kiss with Negan, and tilted her head towards you.

Negan turned to you, “What do you think you’re doing?”

You had a blank stare as your hands froze with your hoodie zipped halfway.

“We’re not done with you sweetheart” Diana added

“She means, there’s more to your present” Negan smiled

“Grab your drink” Diana said as she walked over and pulled on the strings of your hoodie, leading you towards the stairs.

You finished your whiskey as you walked up the stairs, before entering the familiar room.

Diana grabbed the empty glass from you hand and set it on Negan’s dresser along with her half full glass.

Diana led you the bed, “sit.”

she began undressing you from your two garments until you laid completely naked under her. She kissed you and rubbed her clothed body against yours.

Your hands were on her hips encouraging her movements. You attempted to untuck her blouse ignoring your failed attempt downstairs. She didn’t restrict you this time. You pulled her shirt from her waist band and unbuckled her thin belt. Diana stopped her actions to unbotton her blouse and tossed it to the side before resuming to kiss you.

“Dirty girls” you heard Negan enter the room. You could swear you felt your pussy release more fluids at the sound of his voice.

You propped yourself on your elbows and witnessed Negan remove his black shirt and kick off his boots. Diana hopped off you to remove her pants, leaving her in a lacey, beige bra and underwear set.

Negan stepped to kiss Diane, and unclipped her bra. He gripped her breast and eventually her ass and pushed her front against his.

“Mmhhh” Negan groaned when Diana broke the kiss and sucked on his neck down his chest, while a free hand rubbed him through his black Levi’s.

It turned you on, and you did something you never thought you would do.

You brought your hand to your womanhood and began touching yourself, feeing how wet your really were.

“Enjoying the view?” Negan commented.

Embarrassment coursed through your blood, and you removed your hand.

“Don’t stop” Negan said, “keep playing with yourself darling.”

“Let go” Diana added, kissing down Negan’s abdomen

You brought your hand back to pleasure yourself. Circling your clit with alternating pressure.

Negan unbuckled his belt, and let his member free, pulling his pants to mid-glute.

Diana sensually sucked the head of his cock, Negan tossed his head back. She dragged her tongue from the underside of his base back to the tip. Eventually, taking him entirely into her mouth.

“Agh!” Negan reacted to the deep throat, “that’s it baby. Fuck!”

The sounds of gargling and slobber coming from her pleasuring him brought you closer to the edge. You began rubbing her clit faster, building up release.

Negan caught you getting close.

“Don’t come Eddie.” He said in between breathes, “wait for us”

You were so close but figured that what they would give you would bring more pleasure than what you could give yourself. You willed yourself to stop.

Diana popped off Negan’s dick and came to kneel next to your torso, head opposite of yours. Negan removed his pants and dragged you closer to edge of the mattress.

His long middle finger pushed easily into your wet entrance

“Mmhhh” escaped you.

He pumped his digit in and out while Diana rubbed your clit.

Negan removed his finger and brought his member to your center.He dragged it through your folds, teasing you. Your eyes alternating between Negan’s facial expressions and his cock.

“Fuck” you dropped your head back, desperate to feel him inside you.

“You’re right, Negs, not very patient” Diana laughed, lightly smacking your clit a few times, causing you to jolt in spontaneous directions.

“That’s what makes her fun” Negan explained, continuing to tease you with his manhood.

“Cause she’ll eventually-” one more drag of cock against you...

“Give in!” He pushed himself entirely into you.

“Ughhhh!” you moaned

Negan stilled inside you, you walls beating against him. He leaned down to kiss you, his hips making zero movements.

With his mouth still on yours he pulled out halfway and gave you one hard and fast pump, causing you jaw to open and break the kiss

“What did I tell you about punching above your weight class?” He said rhetorically

“And tonight, there’s two of us” He laughed

He stood back up and began pushing in and out of you at a moderate pace. Diana continued to rubbed your nerve bundle.

“Harder, please” you asked

“Patience” Diana reminded you

“Oh, shell learn patient after this” Negan warned.

He picked up the pace and your release was closer than ever. Especially with Diana working your clit perfectly.

“She’s close” Negan announced.

Diana brought her lips to yours. Negan fucked your harder and faster, you could feel his balls push against you, and the slapping sounds confirmed it.

Your moans were captured by Diana’s mouth.

“She’s gonna come” Negan said through his gritted teeth.

“Fuck!” You yelled into Diana’s kiss, you felt yourself come undone.

You tried to pull your lips away but Diana held you head in place to continue kissing you.

Negan slowed down his pace slightly after your orgasm but didn’t stop. Neither did Diana’s hand.

“Oh god! Fuck! Fuck! Ne— ple—“ You werent able to escape her kiss.

You tried to remove Diana’s hand from your pussy but she pinned it down. So you tried to pushed away from Negan further up the bed, but he pulled your hips closer to his.

You tightly closed your eyes, a few more seconds went by and you felt a second release. You heard gushing sounds matching Negan’s thrusts and felt your thighs becoming wet.

Negan slowed down and remained inside you, as your lower body twitched and squirmed.

“I knew wed get her to squirt” Negan said before celebrating with a kiss from Diana.

“You okay Eddie?” Negan asked still slowly pumping himself into you.

You nodded, your face covered by your crossed forearms.

“Good”

He flipped your over, legs hanging off the edge, and he picked up the pace once more.

You tried to use the sheets to get gain some distance between your sensitive pussy and negans thick cock.

“No, you don’t” he pulled you back.

You felt wetness over your puckered hole, followed by a finger. Your glutes contracted involuntary.

“Relax” Diana tried to soothe you, “relax for me”

Negan slowed down. You a deep breathe in between thrusts and we’re able to relax a bit more.

Diana inserted one of her fingers in your anus and wiggled it inside you, Negan picked up speed again.

“Oh, already?” Negan exclaimed.

“I know you’re there honey” Negan knowing your were close, “Let us have it!”

“Oh fuckkkk” another orgasm hitting you Followed by a small release of extra fluids.

Negan leaned over your back and sucked on your shoulder and neck before congratulating you “Good job baby, you just might be able to go the rounds”

“Aghhh” you moaned into the bed as he pushed slowly and deeper a few more times.

Negan pulled entirely out of you, your walls pulsating every so often recovering from your intense orgasms.

“Aghhh” you let out softly as you felt Diana’s finger exit your picked hole.

Negan stepped into his bathroom to dry off a bit.

During this intermission, you brought your legs onto the bed, to lay on your side, facing Diana.

You reached between your tighs to inspect your wetness. Maybe it was all in your head.

“Was that your first time?” Diana asked

“Um, yeah...”

“I’m sor—“ you were caught of guard when she brought your fingers into her mouth to suck on them.

You were mesmerized by her actions

She finished, chuckled, and smiled at you, “What were you sorry for?”

“Um, the—“ You stuttered pointing at the wet stains on the comforter “-the sheets”

“Don’t be sorry. I expect messes from dirty girls” Negan said returning.

“And you’re a dirty girl” he spanked you ass and firmly rubbed it after.

Diana positioned you face up and straddled you. She leaned to kiss you as Negan gripped Diana’s hips and entered her.

He pushed inside her more delicately than he’d ever done with you. You saw Diana’s eye lids flutter with pleasure at her lovers intrusion.

“Ah, Fuck” she moaned into your neck.

Negan fucked Diana on top you. He alternated speed, building up her climax while holding back his own.

While pumping into her, Diana whispered to you, “Touch me”

Frozen by her request you did nothing.

“Touch me” she repeated, reaching for one of your hands that rested on the outside of her thighs.

She brought your hand to her center. You hesitantly began rubbing her.

“That’s it Eddie” she encouraged you “just like that”

Your fingers occasionally bumped into Negan’s dick that was entering and exiting Diana.

Negan leaned over and whispered to Diana, “I need to come now”

Diana turned her neck over to give him a kiss of approval.

Negan snaked his hand in Diana’s hair and pulled harshly, followed by a playful yelp from Diana.

Negan began jackmhammering into her, making growling sounds that never left his throat.

“Ughh” both moaned, coming at the same time, on top of you.

Negan let go of Diana’s hair, and her body weight rested on you. Negan continued to slowly pumping himself in Diana as he softened.

He eventually exited her and flopped himself on the bed next you and Diana, catching his breath.

As Diana reached between her legs, you felt Negan’s cum drip from Diana’s pussy onto yours.

Diana collected some of Negan’s release on her fingers and brought them to your mouth.

You opened and sucked on them. Not breaking eye contact.

“Do you like the taste of me and my boyfriend?”

You nodded, her fingers still in your mouth.

Diana slid off you, to sandwich you between herself and Negan.

“So when are you back from school?” Diana asked.

“Christmas” you said through a yawn.

“We’ll have to get you another presents then”

Your stomach fluttered at her words as the three of you drifted to sleep, limbs stacked upon each other.

#negan #negan x oc #negan x reader #negan smut #Negan's thirst squad

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whatdoesshedotothem · 2 years

Text

Saturday 28 April 1838

7 ¾

2 40

fine but dull morning F42° at 9 and breakfast in about ¾ hour and then had William Mallinson and paid him for spouts at Little marsh, and had Mr. Bollard a civil young man (Ironmonger) about his bill from last midsummer to xmas – told him to make it out again in 3 – for Northgate Shibden hall and Little marsh – all this took me till 10 5 – then off with A- to Landymere – she rode and I walked by her side as far as the Lodge, she then road forwards and I stood a few minutes with Mr. Gray and Robert Mann who had proposed making the 3 large oblong sandstones do the draw-wall – Mr. Gray sketched and Roberts’ idea, and we were all satisfied – ordered to be done – at Landymere by the old Northowram road in ½ hour – found A- and SW. and Mr. Bentley – SW set out 1200 yards 30 yards along the hollow at 27ft. from the fence x 40 up the hill (including the present quarry hole) at 4ft. from the fence

SH:7/ML/E/21/0086

between the Sutherlands’ and Mesdames Lancashire and Brook – Bentley to come on Monday at 4pm to sign the rough draft of the agreement – terms explained to him and SW. 1200 yards as above named at 8d. per ft. of good stone – 8ft. thick? or 9ft. at present? – but no matter if thicker or thinner paid for at 9d. – the whole to be paid for in 3 years by equal ½ yearly payments – or rather 400 yards per annum to be paid for – and 4 years allowed to get it in – Road to the new road to be £5 per annum whether in one place or other – SW. to come on Tuesday and the site of the road to be settled – SW. did not think the little hole Joseph Mann is sinking, too high up in the field – 8 yards deep at present and only got down to the Crooked stone – the same beds (there will be 2) as Mrs. Aspinalls’ and Mr. Listers’ – not Bentley’s bed – A- then rode off to Holcans wood, and I walked by Wester croft and David Booths’ and Hipperholme to Hove edge to Messrs. Naylor Heap and Goodyears’ Day-quarry – mined underground like coal coming out to the Day – Mr. Luke Goodyear there ready to receive me – very civil went with me into the 3 places the 7 men (4 + 2 + 1) were working in a tram-road made of a plank deal cut into 6 and an iron edge laid on it, that the fall of a stone might not break the iron – an ass in the tram road and where one of the mines met it at a right angles an ingenious sort of platform moving on a pivot that would turn the load round into the tram road without trouble – this quarry in working 7 or 8 years – some good stone, but had not paid yet – In Mr. Macaulay’s land – Aspinall had it before at 2/6 per yard – gave it up – 8 yards of baring – the present firm took the whole field allowance being made for a ruttle (12? or 15? yards wide) – bed of stone from 2 to 6ft. thick – now about 6ft. – would not pay if not worked in this way – costs £20 a year in timber to support the roof – noticed a curious sort of white arbores cent moult-like moss or mould ramifying in places on the dark raggy or hard scaly roof – would be better for underground working if more baring – the bed of stone here is 4 yards I think he said above my bed in yew trees wood quarry – he walked with me across the Hove edge road into McAulays’ wood looking down up Southolme and at the style at the bottom of the steep past of the footpath shewed me my own bed at the bottom of a quarry hole there (close on the left going down) and his bed at the top of this hole – some talk about Mr. Richard Pollards’ stone – he had offered it to Messrs. Naylor and c° - they ought to have 500 yards at 1/. per yard, and then 2/. per yard as much as it was worth – thought of baring might be taken to A-‘s Hipperholme Lane ends quarry – would look again – I said I knew other people were thinking of the stone – mentioned my plan of laying a baring so as to make a road from A-‘s quarry mentioned also its being said in Hardcastles’ presence and mine that a road thro’ the wood would be worth more than £5 a year – (alluding in my own mind to SW’s valuation on pay Hardcastle for the damages done to his field in walling) – I had been perhaps ½ hour or nearly at the quarry – gave the 1st 4 men 2/. as a footing and the 2nd pair 1/. and of the last took no notice – arrived at the quarry about one or a little after and it was about 2 when I parted with Mr. Goodyear in Mr. Macaulays’ wood just above Mr. Sowdens’ when I saw my way clearly before me – then to Southolme – found Abraham Hemingway in his barn – went with him to see the piece (close up to Mr. Thomsons’ land) of ground proposed being given by Mr. Naylor for the bit to be taken at the bottom of his wood and top of my field to [found] his bur wall upon – Abraham thought 2 yards x 30 would be wanted – Mr. Naylor soon came to us – a very civil well mannered neat tidy looking middle aged man who was so civil and apparently anxious to do what was right and liberal that we agreed at once – but Abraham set a corner = 15x15 yards = 225 yards – the ground to be given very much more valuable certainly than that to be taken – Mr. N- agreed to give 60 yards of his against 60 yards of mine – if more wanted, I agreed to pay a [on?] consideration – SW. to measure and value and anyone else Mr. N- chose – then viewed the place where ground was wanted – told Mr. N- he should have what he wanted to make a good job – of course he would take as little as he could for his own sake as well as mine – but if he had occasion to take 2 good ash trees standing in my fence, these must be valued and placed to the account of the superior value of his land to that of mine – N- said he could give no writing – but there would be no trouble – all parties agreeable – the trustee Mr. Brook and all – and on the death of their wives, the estate must come into the market, and I should have no trouble – I said I had no fear about that – for Mr. SW. would measure and lay all down on the estate plan, and if Mr. N-‘s party should claim back from me, I should do the same from them and they might be glad to be quiet – or equity would settle the matter for us – Mr. N- expressed himself very much obliged – repeated it several times – said nobody could have behaved more handsomely – I merely said he might sometime have some opportunity of obliging me – sure he should not be slow to do it – he then mentioned Mr. Richard Pollards’ stone – Repeated the substance of all I had said to Mr. Goodyear N- thought the stone not worth more than 2/. a yard – said I had thrown a new light upon it – not aware anybody else was after the stone – mentioned no names but said other people had named it to me – mentioned also (which I had not named to Mr. Goodyear) my paying Mr. Pollard 1/. per yard for 40 yards and Simeon Shaw the tenant also 1/. per yard to keep me safe from the entrance in Mr. Pollards’ note that he must make the hole into the ground again – N- said RP. could give more title beyond his own life – but said I, his brother might sign also – it would be or might be made his interest to do so, and then all would be safe – mentioned also that I should like to have some of the ground after it was quarried and had named offering 2d. per yard to Mr. Goodyear – Mr. N- and I parted the best possible friends – he would see me again about the quarry – said I should be glad to see him at SH. then with Abraham Hemingway – mentioned Gill that I had seen this morning in the road [?] on this side of David Booths’ driving out of Goodyear’s cart – the man said he was cousin to Abraham H- and had married his daughter and wanted to take the Godley paddock – no! that impossible – could not do without it myself – he stood talking thought of setting up cart and horse of his own, and wanted a field – said I would think about it – that is, remember him if anything likely fell out – as he was so connected,

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I would mention to him to Miss Walker – but if he heard no more of it, he must conclude that we had neither of us anything to suit him – Inquired his character of Abraham H- it seems A- had nothing against him – a very good husband and respectable man, but 14 or 15 years older than his wife, and had as it were stolen her away, her parents being against the match – took her away in the night time – and it was clear Abraham had not forgiven this – said it was well to let them do for themselves – would not do much for them – the ash tree Abraham cut down a very good one – gave him all but about 6 or 8 ft. long of the thick part – this would cut into 4 capital axels – 2 for a large cart 2 for a smaller one said Abraham must keep this piece for me for about a year to season, and then I should not forget it, but perhaps get him to get it cut up for me and I should then bring it away – then stood talking to Abraham about the expense and profit of keeping horses – Abraham said they paid very little or sometimes not at all – for if he lost a horse or any accident happened it was long before this was recovered – Luke Goodyear said he had lost £40 last year – lost a horse worth £30 – Abraham owned he bought in his horses at under £30 on the average – but a good horse worth £30 now - £5 out of £30 down now than they would be 3 or 4 months hence – Abraham Haighs’ light bay that I have thought of worth £30 – 4 off – will grow – 15 ½ hands now – I said well! but he (Abraham) got his farming in (that ishis farm work done) into the bargain – yes! he said this was his profit – he gets his corn (3ds. [?] meal and oats) of Mr. Brook of Brighouse – calculates a horse to eat of this 8/. per week and 1 ½ st. of hay a day 1/. = 7/. per week – would not pay at all if he (Abraham) himself did not go with his horse to the delf – has seven horses – said I inquired because I thought of carting my own coal, or it would not pay –

calculates Abrahams’ horses at each 8/. + 7/. = 15/. per week and per pair 30/. + mans’ wages 15/. + wear and tear and blacksmiths bills etc. 5/. = total £2.10.0 per pair [co.]! I can manage it I think – sauntered home along the brook all the way by pinnel bridge and Dumb mill ditto to Mitham mill and home by Listerwick (the trenching in progress in Jonathan Mallinsons’ field) about 4 ½ - found A- dressing – ¼ hour with her – and she rode off to Cliff hill at 4 ¾ - had told Oddy of going with us to London – O- much pleased – promised to keep the secret till Monday – I not to go to church tomorrow but stay at home and get ready – wrote the whole of the above of today till now 6 ¼ - having just paid (per Robert Norton) George Naylors’ sawyers bill for larch rails and boards sawing – and now going down to pay Stephen Scholefield – wrote letters – had George Naylor (wright) and the 2 Manns and the gardener and paid Mr. Harper of the Stump X Inn the supper bill of 16th ultimo for Booths’ men all who had worked here – 21 of them – Paid Robert Mann, and gave Joseph £50 in a/c – had not time to settle with him and still had not done till after 8 – dinner at 8 10 – and had coffee with Mr. Gray in the dining and came upstairs at 10 pm paid Oddy her little bill she had paid for bran – at accounts and memoranda till 1 25 tonight fine but dull day or very little sun – much warmer than yesterday – not so much cold east wind – calm – F35° at 11 pm it was 7pm or after before I had despatched Sam booth with the letter bag containing my letter to ‘Messrs. Hammersley and c° Bankers London post paid’ asking them to get my passport visaed, it being my intention to embark in London for Antwerp tomorrow week and proceed thence by Brussels to Paris taking with me my niece Miss Walker and 2 servants (Susan Oddy and George Wood) – letter also to ‘Messrs. Pearce and Baxter coach-makers Longacre London Post paid’ expect being in London on Thursday evening next and immediately on arriving will send them the carriage to be examined and made ready for embarking on the following Sunday – shall be much obliged if they can provide me a neat clean chariot and good horses to do about town on Friday and Saturday’ – letter also to ‘Mrs. Hawkins 26 Dover street London Post paid’ expect being in London on Thursday evening to dinner – shall be glad if Mrs. Hawkins can take me in for 2 or 3 days – if not, much obliged to her to take me an apartment in the nearest comfortable family hotel – (myself Miss Walker and 2 servants as usual)

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princessmariaphiliper · 3 years

Text

THE SLEEPOVER FIC | Part 5 The Contemplating

Notes: James Acaster, Original characters, No warnings this week just some good innocent fluff. I lied. I mention babestation twice, one day I will write something innocent.

Pairing: James Acaster x Reader

Genre: Fluff with eventual smut, Slow Burn fic

Words: 2,439

Summary: You and James have put yourselves into trouble, but you think maybe it’s hotter that way.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

The following Sunday morning you awoke to sunrise draping lazily through your cream curtains. Pulling the duvet back you dragged yourself out of bed with a soft stretch. Making your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth. You looked out your window at the dusty London street.

It was going to be a pleasant day today. Temperature making its way up to the mid-twenties. So late last night you had decided you would have a day outdoors. You had some writing to do for a project you were planning therefore you’d figured today was as good as any to start. Brushing your teeth idly you started your, now rather frequent, internal dialogue on James.

Your mind had been running circles since Wednesday evening and the kiss he’d given you on his way out. Part of you kept telling yourself that ‘maybe this was just a way he said goodbye to people’. After all, the two of you hadn’t had a sober goodbye up until that point. Perhaps it was just his formalities. And it wasn’t as if he’d called or even dropped you a text since then to indicate a romantic gesture. But the other half of you could help read between the lines of his subtle touches you could still feel on your skin.

Washing your face and leaving the room you moved to your wardrobe. Pulling out an oversized white tee and dark wash jeans. You began to get dressed. Considering where you might like to go today. After some deliberation you decided on the coffee house beside Camden lock. You sat down at your desk, putting on some concealer, liner and brushing up your eyebrows. You looked into your y/e/c eyes, edging the spoolie in between your fingers and resting your chin in both hands. Letting out a large sigh, the confusion continued.

You’d always considered yourself to know right from wrong. However, your thoughts of James had lately been trivial to that. Although you knew that James wasn’t happy in his relationship, that didn’t mean that his partner wasn’t. This was yet another hurdle of guilt that was blocking you from admitting growing feelings for James. But as much as you blocked it from your mind, you couldn’t block out the way James made you feel. A sense of calm, giddiness and as though you had known him all your life. Yet it had only just been one week since you first met.

Dropping your hand and sighing you shook the thoughts from your head. Brushing your hair quickly, grabbing your laptop bag and heading out for the day.

The air was warm, the sun shining down onto the streets as you stepped out from your apartment complex. You inhaled, sucking in the early summer air. It was busy on the streets, as it usually was on a Sunday in London. Many people basking in the final day on their trips before getting the train home. You would always recognise how lucky you were to have the chance to live in such a vibrant city, doing the work that you loved. Trotting with a skip in your step to your local tube station. A smile across your face from your blessing.

The tube, as always, was muggy and dirty. Passing a burst of carbonated air through every once in a while. But eventually you made it to Camden station and were able to bask in the sunlight once again. You made your way up Camden market, the bright colours above the stylistic storefronts. People weaving past as you pushed through the crowd, heading straight up towards the lock.

After some time of fighting past bodies you reached the lock, the filthy black bars and open arms of the coffee shop embracing you on arrival. You ordered your usual drink, nestling down onto a free table in the outside seating area. Under a parasol in the corner.

There were lots of people sitting and chatting around you, enjoying the sunshine with each other's company. You people watched for a while, taking pleasure in voyeurism was one of your favourite things to do in the city. It was filled with an array of characters, outside the restraints of the cafe’s fencing. The lining of the lock was littered with people, sitting, eating and drinking casually. There was a young couple beside you, seemingly on a first date, their conversation awkward and laced with anxiety. Reminding you subconsciously of how alone you were. Not only in this moment, but somewhat in day to day life.

Mostly working during the day, you hardly indulged in the thought of spending your time going on dates, let alone falling in love with someone. After your previous relationship you needed time for yourself. To learn, grow and understand who you were as a person. And yet here you were, years down the line having done all these things. Working alone in a coffee shop, surrounded by people in love. You pondered the idea for a moment, staring at the half drafted document on the screen of your laptop before beginning to type.

Comically however, just as you did so, your phone started to buzz from the pocket of your jeans. You reached inside, studying the caller ID before you answered. It was Olive, you pressed it to your ear.

“Olive”

“Hi lovely, I just wondered what you’re up to today?”

“Not much, I’m just starting the Eraser project I told you about the other day. I was going to send you the proposal a little later to see if you're on the same page with my thinking”

“Oh, brilliant, I was actually going to ask if you wanted to meet up over coffee to talk about it. I could come by yours in about an hour if that's okay?”

“I’m actually not in at the moment, I’m in Camden, I can meet you somewhere if you like though?”

“Camden sounds lovely on a day like today. I’ll come down and meet you there!”

“Alright perfect, I’ll text you the cafe I’m at when you set off?”

“That's great thank you, I’ll see you soon.” The phone cut out, leaving only the hubbub of people as your background noise. With a smile you began to type once again, grateful for someone to subside your lonely feeling.

Olivia arrived about forty five minutes after your initial call, the second call being moments ago when she couldn’t find you in the seating area. She was wearing a jade kimono that had an intricate peacock pattern on top of a black cotton jumpsuit. Paired with embellished sandals as well as multiple chunky bracelets. She gave you a warm smile as you waved at her above the sea of people.

“Y/n!” she said, making her way over and sitting across from you. A cup of jasmine tea in her hand.

“Hello lady Olivia,”

“How have you been?”

“On off, how about you?”

“About the same, grateful for the sunshine!” She exclaimed, raising her hands passionately in the air.

“So.”

“So” You grinned at one another, excited to be discussing a new creative project. “What are your thoughts”

“I think first of all it should be filled with colour. Hopefully, if all goes well, we’ll be able to set up an open air theatre by the end of summer, just before the kids go back to school. I want flowers and paint and colourful lighting.”

“That sounds amazing, what do you want me to do on the other side of things”

“Well I’d like for you to take a bit more of a writing hat this time around. I think you’re ready for it. I’d like to see what you can create and bounce off of one another that way. I think it’d also be lovely to get a balance between different age perspectives with what were wanting to talk about”

“I’m up for that one hundred percent, I’ll be the old crone you need whenever you need it love” You laughed at her choice of words, not having intended your statement in that way but nonetheless you appreciated her humour. “How long until you’re wanting to book a space for making?”

“I can get us one by next week if you want?”

“Yeah that's fine by me.”

The initial project proposal you’d brought forward was to explore gender and sexuality through growth. With memoirs, dance and music that was reminiscent of your own identity. You’d been brewing on the project for some time now. Unsure of how to put it into the world with its fullest potential. Then, you’d been working with Olivia and watching her grow at a later stage in life, you’d brought back out the project with a new filter. Wanting to go on a journey of creating ‘Eraiser’ along with her. The creative juices were flowing. You were on your third drink of the day, now accompanied with a muffin as your stomach had begun to rumble. You’d been brainstorming stories and concept ideas, bouncing off one another for a while when your phone began pinging on the table. It was a text from James causing you to do a secret giddy dance. The message that came through that read,

Are you in Camden?

I am, why?

Initially confused by how he knew your location before an image of you and Olivia from a distance came through. You smiled at the sound of his voice calling out your name above the early afternoon sun.

“Y/n!”

“James!” You responded, him making his way towards your table. You stood from your chair as he came closer, embracing him in a hug. James was dressed in a pair of yellow canvas shorts and a white tee to match your own. He enclosed his arms around you. Being slightly taller he was able to naturally rest his chin atop of your head.

“How’ve you been?” He murmured, placing a stealthy half kiss in your hair, before you released one another from the embrace.

“I’m alright how are you?”

“Okay thanks, you smell nice by the way” An offhand comment that made your hands curl around your middle finger.

“This is Olivia, my co-worker. Olive, James”

“Lovely to meet you” James held out a hand to shake Olivia’s. Once again causing you to question his ambition by how he interacted with her in contrast to you. From the handshake to the lack of speaking her name in a sentence as he did with you. You regained your seat as the two chatted.

“You too James. Might you be James from the telly?”

“Depends what channels you’re into.”

“Babestation?”

“Thats me”

“Have a seat,” She offered as the three of you chuckled, pointing to an empty table behind him. Accepting the invite to the table graciously James grabbed a chair and sat down beside you.

“What are you doing here?”

“Just having a meeting, enjoying the sunshine.” You squinted up towards the sky.

“Oh sorry, I’m not interrupting am I?”

“No no,” Olivia spoke with a slightly devilish grin, “We were about finished I think.”

This was a lie, you had been in the middle of explaining something to her when James had texted you. Knowing the implication behind her smile you rolled her eyes. It was going to be a long story to tell her once James had left. She continued,

“So where did the two of you meet?”

“We have a mutual friend, we met last friday for some drinks.” James nodded in agreement, mumbling a, some under his breath with a shake of his head. “What’re you doing here?”

“Oh you know, getting out of the flat while it's nice out. I’ve been working all week so haven't had a chance to see many people that I don't have to be funny for”

You felt slightly guilty but somewhat better about the fact that James hadn’t called since Wednesday. Selfishly forgetting he was a busy man, attempting to balance working to please people with a crumbling relationship. Not wanting him to feel lonely or burnt out. “Grab a drink if you like, I don’t mind not laughing at your jokes.” You responded sarcastically, however your intention was somewhat laced with care. James flashed you a kind smile, eyebrows raised in excitement. He placed his hands on the table, squaring his elbows in a half stand.

“Only if you’re sure, I don't want to impose!”

“No please join us, Y/n is not as interesting company as a real life pornstar” Olivia joked, causing a ripple of smiles and a light ‘fuck off’ to roll from your tounge. James stood from his seat with a ‘I won't be long’. The two of you watched him disappear into the cafe before Olivia turned to you with a knowing look on her face. You sighed, taking a sip of your drink.

“So, is he good in bed?”

“We haven’t had sex,”

“You should, he’s dishy”

“It's not like that,” You trailed off “He has a girlfriend.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah… but it's complicated apparently”

“How so?”

You explained as briefly as you could the events of the past week or so. Trying to watch out for how close James was getting towards the front of the line inside. After your word vomit Olivia’s grin was back.

“So you like him then?”

“I-” You contemplated, not having audibly admitted your thoughts for him yet. And the idea that you would have to face him in a couple minutes after doing so made you nervous. “It’s confusing.” you settled with.

“It doesn’t have to be Y/n”

Silently agreeing, you observed James as he ordered his drink now. Standing gently with one hand in his pocket, the other placed on the counter, his pelvis angled towards the window you were looking in from. Olivia continued,

“Listen to me. I’m twice your age love, and I know it might sound complicated and terrifying now but you’ll regret the things you didn’t try for when you’re my age. He seems lovely and it's clearly something that you want. You’ve been around him for less than ten minutes and your face has been lit up since he arrived. Even if its short lived its worth a shot, plus, it looks like he's into you”

“You don’t know that”

“Please, the way he had his hands around you earlier. I was practically gushing”

James had started making his way back to the two of you now holding an iced tea in his palm. He flashed you a smile as he came through the door.

“Just think about it.” Olive started again with a wink, “Because if you don’t, I might”

Thank you to all the lovelies who have been following the fic so far. I’ve been posting now every other day just to try get better quality of writing so hopefully yall are coping with that. Let me know any thoughts you have about the fic. I’m also taking James x Reader oneshot requests via DM’s so if you have anything you need desperately to be manifested I’m your gal.

- Princess Maria :)))))

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collecting-stories · 4 years

Text

Swings - JJ (Outer Banks)

Request: Hello babes! I adore your writing so much and I was wondering if you could do a JJ imagine with prompts #26 and #31? And make it really fluffy too? ;)) @sweetingly

A/N: Just some fluff...I’m a fan of the fluff honestly.

Outer Banks Masterlist

///

“Okay you could never eat Doritos again or every time you ate a Dorito it would have a little bit of person dust on it?” You asked, knees bent over one of the uneven bars at the playground as you hung upside down. JJ was sitting on top of the other one, knuckles white and arms extended as he kept his balance. You didn’t have the best view of it but you could imagine the definition in his arms as he sat there, muscles tense to prevent him from losing his grip.

He’d been on the monkey bars earlier though he was too tall to use them properly so he settled for trying to do flips on them. He landed one and narrowly missed sending himself to the hospital with the other. The park was fenced in, off limits at night to stop teenagers, like yourselves, from hanging out on the playground equipment and smoking. After the fourth disturbance call from the nosey woman across the street last year the fence had gone up. Which prevented nothing. JJ parked his dad’s truck or your mom’s minivan right beside the fence, giving you a boost over.

“Person dust?” JJ questioned, teetering forward just so before righting himself.

He’d abandon this activity soon for the swings. He liked to smoke and swing when the two of you broke into the playground together. He entertained your love of slides, monkey bars, and whatever other pieces of equipment they filled the playground with but swings were his favorite. They had been since fourth grade. The year after he met John B he met you. Not to say that you hadn’t been going to the exact same elementary school with him since you were six but he wasn’t exactly the best at paying attention and half the time his classes were a blur, as were the people in them. You weren’t memorable until fourth grade when the recess aid insisted that he let someone else use the swing. You had gotten on and he’d stood there pestering you about how long you would be the entire time you had your turn.

“You know like, how dust is 80% human skin or whatever.” You replied. All the blood was starting to rush to your head and you knew it was just a matter of time before you would have to dismount.

“That’s disgusting.”

“So no Doritos?”

“What about the tacos?” JJ asked, hoping down from his bar and bending to the side as if he was going to look at you upside down the way you were looking at him.

“What?”

“Can I still do the Doritos tacos?”

“No; no Doritos is no Doritos.” You replied.

“I’ll eat the person dust.” JJ replied, sounding sure of himself.

“You’re so gross.” You let your fingers brush the synthetic woodchips before reaching out to JJ, “help me up?”

JJ crouched down, pushing your back to sit you up on the bar, your head spinning a little as you slid off the bar and met the ground with your feet. JJ was quick to grab you, wrapping his arm around your waist and holding you against his side. Your balance was always off when you hung upside down like that and still you insisted on it.

You looked up at JJ as he surveyed the swing set on the other part of the playground, waiting for you to be stable enough to walk before he took on the swings. He looked so pretty at dusk, the sun setting made everything look bathed in reds and oranges and JJ especially looked sublime like that. “I love you.” You said, eyes tracing the lines of his face.

“What?” JJ looked down at you suddenly, eyebrows furrowed.

“Oh my god, did I just say that out loud?” You paled; you hadn’t seriously just told him you loved him while waiting for the blood rush to pass.

JJ pulled you further in, tucking you against his chest and kissing your forehead. You closed your eyes when his lips brushed your skin, trying to subside the sudden warmth of embarrassment from your face. He hadn’t let go of you or rejected you. Those were both good signs.

“We can mack on each other for like, the rest of our lives but we have too share an apartment with Pope or you can live on figure 8 forever but we can’t hang out ever again.” JJ asked.

You pulled away from him enough that you could tilt your head to look him in the eye. “I just told you I loved you and you’re hitting me with a ‘would you rather’? Kinda inopportune time babe.” You replied.

“So figure 8?” He asked, smiling at you.

“No,” you laughed, nudging him. “Who needs a fancy house? I’d much rather live with you and Pope for the rest of my life.”

“I love you too.” He said.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been in love with you my entire life,” JJ replied, “since the day I met you.”

“Yeah?” You smiled, pulling away from him to head toward the swings, “you have receipts on that Maybank?”

“You don’t trust my word?”

“After you told me you’d eat person dust and want to start a thrupple with me and Pope?” You asked, sitting on the swing. JJ came up behind you, hands grasping the chains and pulling you back against him. You straightened your legs so that you could hold yourself up.

“I do not want to start a thrupple with you and Pope.” JJ replied, leaning forward and kissing your cheek. “Pope would get way too jealous.”

You turned your head so that you could kiss him, “I can’t compete with Pope.”

“Don’t feed his ego.”

“So you’ve really loved me since fourth grade, cause that’s what you’re saying right? That you’ve loved me since fourth grade?” You asked, picking up your feet as JJ released the swing. He stayed behind you, pushing when you swung back toward him.

“Kindergarten.”

“What do you mean kindergarten?” You asked him, looking back.

“In kindergarten when you pretended to be a werewolf and bit my arm.” JJ replied, licking his lips and smiling at you.

“I wasn’t pretending...it was a very serious affliction.” You laughed. “I didn’t think you remembered.”

“How could I forget?” He said, catching your swing again and pulling you back, leaning forward to kiss you one more time. When the swing gave toward gravity he tripped forward a little, trying to chase it, still kissing you. You smiled into the kiss, twisting around and reaching up with one hand behind his neck to draw him closer.

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