#i like to think that everything i write takes place in a separate universe

[kryptonitejelly]

art donaldson x childhood friend reader who he hasn’t seen in a long time (whose had a crazy glow up) visits him at stanford at the same time as patrick and patrick starts hitting on her (him and tashi are in an open relationship) and art gets jealous.

(maybe she tells patrick she knows he’s in a relationship and he tells her tashi wouldn’t mind and she would probably be down to join idk)

art donaldson x reader // challengers // fluff; happy ending

a/n: i did not hit the prompt on the head 100%, but i’m not mad at it. this ended up turning into a monster i had no control off and ended up being alot longer than i expected (i haven’t done a word count, and did not mean for it to spiral into this but i enjoyed writing this very much). i am an art donaldson defender and this is my way of giving him everything he deserves (i hope you guys can see what i subtly tried to do in places - please leave comments/reblog if you see them, it would mean the world). also i typed this entirely on my phone without proofreading - you’ve been warned.

edit - as a disclaimer, i do not purport to comment on the victim/villain/any dynamic in the challengers universe. this space is purely for delusional thoughts and fiction only (see also)

-

Good luck.

Art shoots the text off to you before taking a swig out of cup of diet coke he has in hand. He leans forward, his forearms on his knees, teeth crunching on ice cubes as lets his gaze sweep across the court in front of him. It is devoid of players but already has the umpire and linesmen ready and waiting.

You’ll buy dinner if I win?

Art doesn’t expect to get a text back, so he checks his phone absently, but his face breaks into a tiny grin as he sees your reply. Most other players would have been hyper focused in the moments before a match but you, in the breezy light hearted way you always were, still had it in you to joke around.

Yes, but if you lose…

Art sends his response, the tiny grin still on his face.

I’ll feed you.

Your reply is fast and it makes art shake his head lightly a quiet chuckle dropping from his lips. He is just about to type another reply but is interrupted by the loud cheers that erupt from around him. Art looks up from his phone to see Anna Davies walk out on court in the same colour red as he had on. He claps politely with the rest of the men’s team who he was sitting amongst in the stands, in a show of support.

Art catches sight of Tashi and Patrick, both perched a few rows down from him with the rest of the women’s team both clapping and hollering in support. He notices the turn of Patrick’s head, no doubt to check in on Art but he doesn’t tilt his head or smile back in acknowledgement as he usually would - he is far too distracted by you.

Art can feel his jaw slacken slightly as you walk on court. He knows what you look like, but you in the flesh - Art thinks you are breathtaking. Your top is in a shade of your college’s colour, paired with a white tennis skirt that shows off a pair of toned, long legs. He catches a glint of metal just above your ankle, and he finds himself squinting in a feeble attempt to make out the look of the ankle bracelet that you have on. Art moves his gaze your face, taking in what he can see from his perch on the stands as you walk out towards your designated bench on the court, bright neon green bottle in hand, your tennis bag slung on a shoulder.

You had been close back home for most of your childhood and more formative teen years, and the both had kept in touch since he left for Stanford and you to your own school of choice, but too infrequently - the occasional text, more frequent reaction or comment on each other’s social media and the small conversations that spiralled from those interactions - like two planets orbiting in the same solar system, but not close enough. Life had overtaken, the excitement of moving your separate ways to a new environment, of college - tennis, academics, people, parties, it had overwhelmed you both, individually and together - made you just about forget that you had each other.

Art is transfixed. You are, lithe, glowing and with a hop in your step - Art finds himself questioning why he had never made more effort to keep you closer since you had both gone on your separate paths. He watches as you settle your bag on the bench, turning your gaze to the stands, eyes narrowing from the glare of the sun as you search the stands, only for your gaze to fix on his. Art sees you smile, lips turning up as you wink directly at him. It makes a series of heads turn to look back at him - your fellow team mates, the small group of supporters from your college who had come along, and the Stanford women’s team plus Patrick, half curious, half puzzled. Art can only raise a hand beside his chest in greeting as he remembers to breathe, letting the air he had been holding in his chest out.

He sees turn away while reaching for your phone which you had wedged in between the band of your tennis skirt and skin. Your fingers flying over the keypad briefly before you toss the phone into your tennis bag, hand fishing out your racket. Art feels his phone buzz in his hand and he looks down at the text that had come through.

Stanford still hasn’t taught you the right way to wear a cap huh.

Your text, a reference to his penchant for securing his cap on backwards, makes Art laugh, out loud, the sudden sound causing his team mates to crane their necks in attempt to look at his phone. Art swats them away as he refocuses his attention back on you, watching as you do a few hops, shifting your body weight from side to side before walking to your position on court, racket in hand. You lose the coin toss, and Anna choose to serve and yet your demeanour is one of ease, something Art can’t help but think is so stark in contrast to Tashi before a match. You aren’t smiling anymore, and yet in an unexplainable fashion, Art can feel you smiling as you bend to ready position, your hands flipping the handle of the racket around, poised to receive. He sees Anna toss the ball, her back arching, hand shooting up, before she connects her serve, and he watches you receive it with ease, your body moving in a smooth motion as you hit it back. Your strokes have their own weight and intention behind them, they are careful, thought out - but what surprises Art is he sees little calculation behind each. Instead, he watches as you let yourself feel each shot, as you let your instinct take control with each step. Art sees himself moving pieces of chess across the court when he watches replays of his game, but with your game, - Art manages to see colour, life, ease. He sees something he hasn’t seen in his tennis since he had last played with you, Art sees fun.

-

The match isn’t long drawn out, you win - effortlessly, just as each of your strokes and movement are. It frustrates Anna, as is evident from the increasing number of unforced errors she makes on her art which leads to her swearing loudly as you easily hit the last heavy, driving it quick and to the opposite corner of the court from where she is positioned. Art finds himself clapping enthusiastically along with the crowd as the umpire calls the game.

-

“You never told me you had such good looking friends,” Art feels an arm sling itself around his neck, pulling him close as he stands outside the court, waiting for you to finish your match debrief with the rest of the team.

“Shouldn’t you be with Tashi?” Art questions as he tugs himself out and under, away from Patrick’s hold. His eyes remain focused on the door of the tennis court, waiting for you to emerge.

“Some strategy meeting,” Patrick offers as explanation, “refocusing or something like that.”

Art starts to say something in response only to be stopped by the view of you walking out from the courts. You both lock eyes, not too similar from how you had with you on the court and him on the stand. Art thinks that your smile is more brilliant up close.

Neither of you say a word, as you walk up to him, hands reaching up to tug his cap off his head only for you to pop it promptly on your own head, the right way around.

“The right way,” you say in greeting, pointing towards his cap which is now sitting on your head, the Stanford red a confusing contrast to your your top, now a loose fitting tshirt in your college colours, as Art chuckles while running a hand through his hair, attempting to shake out any flatness.

“The red looks good on you.”

“Perhaps I should transfer.”

“Didn’t peg you for a traitor,” Art teases which makes you laugh.

“Do I get a hug,” you ask, both of you oblivious to Patrick who is just watching.

“C’mere,” Art says, his words inviting, but just almost slightly shy as he opens his arms to you. You step into his embrace, arms slipping around his body as Art brings his arms around your shoulders, hands bumping into the tennis bag you have on your shoulders. His embrace is familiar, and you let yourself relax into his hold.

“Could I get a hug?” you hear a different male voice chime in and you pull away to look curiously at the brunette who is standing just beside you both.

“Fuck off Patrick,” you hear Art say with no bite, but notice as he steps just that one inch in front of you in an attempt to place himself as some sort of barrier between you and the brunette.

“Patrick Zweig,” the boy says, ignoring Art as he proffers a hand to you which you shake to be polite while introducing yourself.

“Do you go to Stanford as well?” You take in his attire of jeans and a white tee, the lack of red - you would guess not but it didn’t hurt to ask.

“I’m just visiting,” he says, “I’m actually playing on tour.”

“Losing on tour,” Art corrects.

“Your tennis is insane,” Patrick comments, ignoring Art, “when will I see you on tour?”

“I don’t intend on turning pro,” you respond with the flash of a smile.

“Why?” Patrick continues the conversation, now slightly befuddled, “you’re a natural.”

You shrug with a laugh, not answering and simply brushing off his question.

“Why don’t I take you to dinner and you can tell me why.” Patrick’s statement makes Art roll his eyes.

“Aren’t you taking your girlfriend our for dinner?” Art chips to which Patrick simply shrugs not phased in the slightest and answers with a no.

“Thanks, but I already have a dinner to cash in on,” you offer Patrick a smile, before glancing at Art.

“I’m sure Art wo-”

“Nope, fuck off Patrick,” is what Art says again, not even giving the other man a chance to finish his sentence. It makes you laugh, but you follow as Art grabs your hand, tugging you off in a direction away from Patrick.

“It was nice meeting you Patrick,” you call out, turning your head towards him giving him a wave with your free hand, “good luck on the tour!”

You walk for a minute or two more until the tennis courts are out of range before Art stops. He lets go off your hand, but reaches instead to grasp the top of the tennis bag on your shoulder. You raise a brow questioningly only to have him tug again with a slight tilt of his head. You relinquish the bag to him and he hoists it on his shoulder instead.

“What a gentleman,” you joke, but with a smile on your face.

Art does a mock bow with a flourish of his hand which makes you laugh with a shake of your head.

“Your chariot awaits my lady,” he extends a hand to you, waist still tilted in a bow, but his head up and looking at you.

“Lead the way,” you place your hand on top of his again.

“My car is that way,” he says jerking a thumb towards his right as he intertwines his fingers with yours. Its the second time in the day where he’s holding onto your hand but you don’t think too much of it and neither does Art. It feels right, comforting, familiar and like it’s supposed to be - and you go with it.

-

“Sorry about Patrick,” Art says as he fiddles with the paper casing of the straw. You are both sitting in a booth, plates cleared, your drinks left in front of you. Art is leaning back but being across him you can feel his knees knocking into yours. Dinner had gone by way too fast for Art’s liking. There had been both plenty to catch up on, as well as new information to learn and yet - it had felt like no time had passed between you both.

“He’s a bit of an ass isn’t he,” you say as you lean back, a mirror of Art. Your comment elicits a bark of laughter from him.

“Girls don’t usually say that about him.”

“What do they say?”

“Well not say, but they usually fall at his feet or into his bed,”

“No,” it makes you crinkle your nose while you shake your head.

“His girlfriend Tashi,” Art says, fingers still fiddling with the wrapper, “we played tennis for her number, she chose him.” Art said referencing the tennis match between him and Patrick. His sentence is blunt, to the point, and yet manages to be vulnerable at the same time. Art surprises himself as the words slip out from his lips so easily but it feels easy to tell you, safe to let himself be vulnerable, fine to let you view him for who he truly is.

You both sit in silence for a beat or two, the only sound between you both being the rustle of paper in Art’s fingers.

“Well,” you begin, “if she made you play for her number, maybe its for the better you didn’t win.”

Art’s fingers give pause and he looks up at you. His expression is unreadable, but you don’t feel like you’ve said anything wrong - just the obvious.

“I guess you are right,” he says after a few seconds of silence, before raising his head to look at you. There is a small smile on his face that you can’t quite place.

“When have I been wrong Donaldson?” You challenge in jest as you lift a leg under the table to jostle one of his lightly. Art leans forward, managing to capture one of your legs, your calf in the warmth of his palm.

“You really want me to start?” Art questions as you wriggle your leg in attempt to get away but no no avail.

“No.”

“Let’s see, the time we were six and you thought that the way to get strawberry milk was to dump pink food colouring in normal milk.”

“Stop,” you protest, but with a laugh on your lips.

“Or the time we were ten and you were convinced that the park we passed by on the way home from school was haunted and we had to sprint past that stretch of sidewalk for 3 whole months.”

“It was creepy!”

“How could we forget the one time we were thirteen and you thought that the way babies were made wa-”

“Arthur Donaldson,” you protest, managing to wrestle your leg out of his grasp which has grown looser with each anecdote. It allows you to set your foot on the ground, body shooting up to lean across the table, your palm coming to cover Art’s mouth to prevent him from announcing any further recollections from your youth.

You can feel his breath hot against the palm of your hand as his muffled laugher fills the space of your booth.

“Art,” you huff, relinquishing his full name for his nickname again. You move to drop your hand from his face, but Art catches a hold of your wrist. You sit back down, butt hitting the seat again, but with your hand still stretched across the table, wrist still loosely wrapped in one Art Donaldson’s hand. His shoulders are still shaking, now with a silent laughter.

“Art,” you try again.

“I’m sorry, it’s just so funny,” Art exhales, trying to collect himself as best as he can. He doesn’t remember the last time he laughed like this, freely and with such reckless abandon over something so innocent.

“Your dedicated court jester, always here to serve,” you mock with a roll of your eyes.

“You’ve been derelict in your duties,” Art says, now calm, but his eyes still twinkling under a mop of strawberry blonde hair. He keeps his tone light but what he really means to say is that it has been too long. You chuckle, not really having an answer for him.

“It’s been a while,” you finally admit, both your hands now resting on the table between you, you wrist now lying upturned in Art’s open palm. You had always been close

“It has, hasn’t it,” it isn’t really a question. Art has missed you - something he hasn’t realised until today. He had let himself be distracted by the complex, focused toxicity that was tennis, Patrick and Tashi, letting himself get sucked into the whirlpool, that he had forgotten to hold on to the things that grounded him.

“Maybe we should change that.”

“We should change that,” Art corrects you and you can feel the tips of your ears burning, and the skin across your cheek bones tingling for some reason.

-

You aren’t quite sure how ended up here, but one thing had lead to another as you both made your way out of the restaurant and back to Art’s car, and the next thing you knew you were heading back to his dorm to watch reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer for some reason.

“How do you not find her hot?” You ask again for the tenth time as you both focus on the screen of Art’s laptop which is perched half on his thigh and half on yours. You are both sitting on his bed, shoulder to shoulder, both of your heads damp from (separate) showers in Art’s ensuite, and you smelling quite like him from having used his toiletries and borrowing a short and shirt set, both of which which were a baggy fit for you.

“I don’t know, I just don’t.”

“You’re rubbish Donaldson,” you snort, nudging your elbow lightly into his ribs with a simultaneous yawn.

“Tired?” Art asks, as you stifle another yawn.

“Yeah,” you accept, seeing little point in trying to hide it. You had after all, played a match today.

“I should really get back to the hotel,” you mumble, the back of your head leaning against the wall beside Art’s bed, eyes closing.

“You could just stay here,” there is a hint of hesitation in his voice because he isn’t sure if you’ll stay.

“Here?”

“My bed’s a double,” Art shrugs, “it would also be quicker for you to get to the matches tomorrow.” You aren’t playing but Art knows you would be expected to show up as a supporter for the series of matches between your two schools that continued tomorrow.

“Are you sure?” You don’t mind, after all - it’s Art, the boy you had known growing up, shared milkshakes and apple slices with after school, but you wanted to be sure he was truly fine with it.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Art moves to shit his laptop, lifting himself to bend over the edge of the bed to place the laptop on the floor, “you can take the inside.”

He flops down on the outside of the bed that is further from the wall too easily, his right hand going behind his head. Him moving forces you to move in tandem as you flop down on Art’s left, legs scrambling under the covers which Art has somehow managed to worm his way under in the flurry of movement.

Art reaches a hand over, his arm extending over you in the process to hit the light switch that he has beside his bed. It plunges you both into darkness, the only light the faint glow from the street lamps creeping in from below his curtains, and the glow of his digital clock.

You flip onto your right side, eyes closed, missing the turn of Art’s head as he observes yours features, closed eyes, lashes, nose, lips, finding his gaze lingering a moment too long on your lips.

“Stop staring Art.”

“Am not.”

“I can feel it,” you respond, lips curving into a smirk. It was a habit he had developed from the sleepovers you both had either in his living room or yours when you were both younger. You would close your eyes, just about to doze off, only to hear the faint shifting of a head against a pillow while Art turned to stare at you, his blue-brown eyes boring into you.

“Am not.”

“Go to sleep Art.”

-

“So I guess I’ll see you around,” You are standing just a distance off the side of the bus which is supposed to take you back to campus. The matches for the day had ended, with your school having won by one match.

“Yeah,” Art replies, drawing out his words as he takes you in, he finds himself think that he had very much preferred you in his clothes despite them being oversized and not as well fitted as your own. You had managed to change into a fresh set of school colours before the matches started earlier that morning, having pleaded with your angel of a roommate to help you lug your overnight bag, which you hadn’t even had the chance to unpack the night before, over to the courts before the matches had begun. She had taken one look at you in Art’s tshirt, shorts with his hoodie thrown over, and had given you the widest smirk known to man despite your insistence that nothing had happened.

“I think you are scheduled to come play next month,” you refer to the Stanford men’s team, “I’ll see you then?”

“Or I could see you next week?” Art says almost shyly as he raises a hand to rub the back of his head. Art was a walking oxymoron, easily grabbing your hand, asking you to sleep in his bed, and yet somewhat bashful in the moments in between, “the drive over is an hour, max.”

“I would like that,” your response earns you a mega watt smile, his eyes twinkling at you. You both hear voices calling Art away from the bus, one male, one female - but Art ignores them both.

-

“Yeah and I told her-” your sentence is cut off by a nudge to your shoulder.

“Stanford” you friend explains with slightly too much glee in her voice. She had seen the smile on your face after returning from your away game last weekend, and the way you had been constantly glued to your phone, grin on your face, laughter peppering your days, the name Art Donaldson a constant fixture in your notifications.

Your head swivels up and to your left to spot Art leaning against his black jeep, hands crossed loosely across his chest. He smiles when he sees you, and your face mimics his expression.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” you friend calls out as she pushes you in Art’s direction. You pull a face at her while rolling your eyes, but letting your legs carry you towards Art.

“Are you stalking me Donaldson?” You ask in jest. Art had texted you half an hour earlier, asking which part of campus your last class of the Friday was in and where he should pick you up from.

“Hundred percent,” he says as he opens his arms; you step into his embrace for a brief hug, before he turns to open the car door for you. You unload your bag from your arm, dropping it onto the floor of the passenger’s seat before climbing in. You move to close the door, but Art is in between you and the door, reaching over to click your seatbelt into place.

“Ready?” He asks, and you nod, gazing into bright blue-brown eyes.

-

“Positivism,” Art says simply at your question of what theory of jurisprudence he found himself most inclined towards. You think for a moment, the side of your face propped up with a hand, elbow on the counter of the bar you both are seated at, your body turned towards Art who is likewise, facing you.

“Positivism,” you roll the words around your tongue, “I guess it tracks,” you shrug, before raising a brow slightly, “but how does an engineering undergraduate so much about jurisprudence?”

“I read.”

“On jurisprudence?” You frown nose wrinkling as you reach your hand out to place the back of it against Art’s forehead as if to check if he had a fever, “are you alright?”

“You mean you don’t read engineering daily in between sets?” Art questions you with mock horror as he reaches up to tug your hand down from his forehead. Your hand ends up, yet again, in Art’s, which is resting on his knee.

“Why engineering, and not something with a lighter course load?” The underlying question is clear - Art had every intent of going the pro track post-Stanford, and it wasn’t that he would be making full use of his degree anyway.

“I don’t want the only skill I have to be hitting a ball with a racket,” he shrugs, “it feels good to know I can do something else.”

You hum in bother understanding and agreement as you feel Art’s thumb begin to stroke the back of your hand. It distracts you, his calloused thumb sliding across your skin.

“In another life I’m sure you would have made a darn good engineer Art Donaldson.”

Your words make Art laugh, something he found himself doing a lot with you.

-

“So, this is me,” you point towards the dormitory buildings up in front and Art slows his car to a stop, pulling the gear into park. He kills the engine before hopping out of his seat. Your hand is on the handle of the door, ready to open it for yourself but Art is faster, his hand on the outside lever, pulling the door open for you.

Art offers you a hand as you hop out of the jeep before he shuts the door behind you.

“I had fun tonight,” you find yourself saying, suddenly feeling slightly shy for reasons you cannot fathom.

“Me too,” is what Art says in response, his hands stuck on the pockets of his jeans, heels rocking in a back and forth motion. You see his gaze on you, locking with yours before flickering to your lips. It makes you bite down one on side of your lip, an action which causes Art to gulp, making the Adam’s apple on his throat bob.

“We should do-”

“Can I kiss you?” Art blurts out his question in a burst and you can see his face flush slightly as he asks, a surprising and yet apt contrast to the Art who had no qualms about holding your hand in his. You feel your heart quickening, and with the silence between you both - you almost feel as if you can hear each beat.

“Yes,” you breathe out, a small nod accompanying your response. You see Art’s gaze flicker to your lips again, but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about this.

Art takes a step forward, pulling his hands out of his pockets. You feel him cupping your face gently, and you tilt your head towards him. Your eyes flutter close and your lips meet.

Art’s lips are softer than you imagined. You feel his hands move, slipping down the sides of your body, circling your waist and pulling you closer. You drop your bag off your shoulder onto the floor as your hands move up, one to cradle the side of his face, and the other reaching behind, fingers weaving into soft curls as you tug him closer towards you. First kisses with someone new had always been awkward for you - teeth, lips, noses, as you each try to figure out the grooves and crannies of each other, but with Art - there was no such thing. It felt as if you both had learnt each other long ago, each in and out, the curve of his neck, and the the planes of your body.

You break the kiss first, pulling away, eyes still closed, feeling as if the breath had been knocked out of you in the best way. Your forehead pressed against Art’s, body held firmly against his.

“I hope you aren’t going to send me packing after that.” Your eyes flutter open at his words.

“You packed an overnight bag didn’t you?”

“I might have,” Art pulls you even closer, his arms wound tight around you.

“Presumptuous much?” You run a hand through the front of his hair, pushing his fringe back.

“Just good at reading the room.”

-

12 years later

The skin across your knuckles are visibly tight, your hands clenched into fists, the only sign of the nerves that have taken over and riddled your body. Your eyes are shielded by dark oversized glasses, but your pupils are darting left and right as the final point of the match plays before you. The stadium is silent, save for the pop of the ball and the grunts from the two players on court. You hear an exceptionally loud grunt, the whizzing of a racket whipping through the air, and then you hear it before it hits you - the roar of the crowd, the thundering claps, and you feel your body freeze as even the announcer goes wild.

“Art Donaldson, ladies and gentleman, our new US Open champion.”

You remain glued to your seat despite the commotion around you - family, Art’s team, cheering, jumping, excited hugs being passed around. Your eyes watch as Art runs towards the center of the net, hand raised as he waves to the crowd around. He shakes his opponents hand, before waving to each section of the stadium in thanks of their support and there he is, jogging towards you. His hair is dripping with sweat, plastered to his head, shirt clinging to his body. He extends a hand to you even before he reaches the sideline and your body reacts from habit, standing, your hand extending back towards him. A warm hand, the back of it still slick from sweat grasps yours, tugging you forward lightly.

“Hi,” is all he says as Art’s lips meet yours. Art enjoys the tennis, but he doesn’t need it - doesn’t need the tennis, the fame, the money, or the trophies - all he needs is you.

You hear the crowd go wild at the display of affection, the announcer’s voice booming over the sound system with something about Art Donaldson and his wife, but it all fades - the commotion, the sound, the people, the tennis, because all you see is Art.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#art donaldson #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x y/n #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson fic #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson x female reader #challengers #challengers fanfic #challengers fic #challengers imagine #not cm #not tg

[81folklore]

heaven - OP81 - part 5

pairings: oscar piastri x private!reader (fc: gracie abrams)

summary: australian adventures of yn and oscar

type: social media au (smau)

authors note: IM BACK WRITING MY FAVORITE ANGELS!!! ive been feeling slightly more motivated so i thought id just continue a story instead of creating a new one (at least whilst im in this slump) i do hope you enjoy!!

heaven masterlist masterlist

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 7,191 others

oh australia how ive missed you and your gifts 💫

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user3 whats the best gift australia has given you??

yourusername oscar!!! liked by oscarpiastri

user3 SHUT THE FUCK UP WHATTTT?!?!??

user62 i feel SICK THEYRE SO??

oscarpiastri oh my goddd

oscarpiastri 😍😍

user4 you cannot separate oscar from that emoji

yourusername not even i can😕😕

oscarpiastri you can pry it from my cold dead hands

user81 that dog is so stinking cute

user22 yess but that dress is GORGEOUS

user5 right shes sooooooo pretty liked by oscarpiastri

user88 australia is the one whos lucky!! liked by oscarpiastri

user67 like they are being blessed with the yn ln

yourfriend3 you are oh so lovely liked by oscarpiastri

yourfriend3 i take it back stop your boyf from liking my comments abt you

yourusername he loves me🥰🥰

oscarpiastri i do!! its true!!

oscarpiastri 📍location home

liked by yourusername, lilymhe and 52,281 others

my favorite lady in my favorite place

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user18 SHE IS HIS FAVORITE LADY OH MU GOD😭😭

user17 AND HIS FAVORITE PLACE IS HOME😭

user24 oh my god she is gorgeous liked by oscarpiastri

user84 i will never ever get tired of them

user28 i hope theyre in love forever and ever liked by oscarpiastri

user55 oscar liking this comment☹️☹️

yourusername my babyyyy

yourusername oh how ill always love you liked by oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri 🩷🩷

twitter

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 8,729 others

the day you entered my world you changed my entire view on life and myself, you help me find love and happiness in things i never expected and showed me how to appreciate the smallest things in life.

sometimes i wonder if im being selfish, how can i be worthy of all the love and time youve given to me? surely there is someone more deserving, someone who needs everything youve showed me more? i think about what i must have done in a past life to be gifted with you and then i wonder if we are destined.

maybe i dont deserve you in this life, maybe i dont deserve you in a thousand other lifes. but i believe we are meant to be which means for every universe we dont find eachother, we find eachother in a hundred more

im so glad we found each other, i dont know if i deserve you but i promise i will cherish and appreciate the way i have done for 6 years and the way i will continue to love you for as long as this universe allows and then i will love you even longer in another

six years used to feel like forever but now ill never have enough time, happy anniversary lovely

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oscarpiastri you continue to help my heart keep beating

oscarpiastri i didnt think love was real until i found you

oscarpiastri we will find eachother in every universe i promise

oscarpiastri you are the prettiest and most lovely person i have ever met and you deserve everything and more

yourusername my good looking boyyyy🩵🩵

user29 i have no words i cant comprehend what im reading

user10 i feel so violently ill they are so sweet

user62 my parents everyone!!!

user53 is that an engagement ring?!

user33 wait pause

user5 theres no way right??

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc and 62,379 others

you’ve impacted my life in more ways than you will ever know and im so thankful that i get to love you for all eternity, you have such a beautiful soul and i can’t believe i get to hold it

happy six years and to a lifetime more

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yourusername you are so so incredible

yourusername i dont know how many other ways i can say it but i love you

oscarpiastri i love you too

user66 they are sooooo

user7 oh my gooooood i am a puddle of tears

user56 you just dont get them like i do

user32 anyone else sad we didnt get a long caption like yns was beautiful

yourusername oscar said more than enough in his letter☺️

user43 OH MY GOD HE WROTE HER A LETTER😭😭😭😭

user3 six years.. six damn years and they are still so in love

user48 guys are they engaged or not😭

yourusername not!! we are still young and exploring ourselves and the world and we are still grow into better people. we didnt want to rush when we still have so many things to do but we will when we know we are ready🩷 liked by oscarpiastri

user65 i didnt know it was possible to love two random strangers so much☹️☹️

yourusername added to their story

seen by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 9,372 others

text on story reads: 🩷🩷🩷

oscarpiastri added to their story

seen by yourusername, aussiegrit and 105,482 others

text on story reads: sunshine ☀️☀️

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#f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #f1 social media au #social media au #formula 1 insta au #formula 1 social media au #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #private!yn!oscar #81folklore #f1 x you

[dracowars]

H!i i love your writing and i wanted to make a request can you do a draco x reader where they have a fight and then they sleep in diffrent rooms and the reader has a nightmare so she goes to dracos room and then just fluff <3

fighter | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x reader

word count: 1,2k

summary: where y/n and draco sleep in separate rooms due to an argument

a/n: i wrote this in one flow in the notes of my phone (i usually write on my laptop that's also why the " are different) and i don't know what happend, but i've never written something so fast. i hope it stays that way lmao enjoy <3 don't forget to reblog, it's so important!

warnings: angst, mentions of death

universe: harry potter

"I can't believe you are being serious right now!", you scream at Draco, physically retreating from him as you take a few steps back in your anger, anger about what he just told you. The atmosphere in his big dark bedroom in Malfoy Manor doesn't help the cold that is now surrounding you, neither does your light sleeping gown that you put on mere minutes ago to finally get some well deserved sleep. That is until you got into this stupid argument.

Your whole body trembles and you desperartely run your fingers through your hair, waiting for him to tell you that it was just a joke, that none of it is real.

"I knew you wouldn't understand", is the only thing that leaves Draco's mouth and if you had been a few more meters away, you would have probably missed his murmur. But you caught every word he said and it makes you even more furious.

"Oh, so you didn't even think about telling me that you want to take your father's place among the Dark Lord's entourage? The one of your father who is currently, if I may remind you, trapped in Azkaban?!", you say while fully realizing the impact of these words. Draco really wants to become a Death Eater and follow Voldemort as his faithful footman until he decides one day that he does not need him anymore either and puts him into the same prison his father is currently residing.

"See? That's why I preferred not to tell you because I knew you would react like this", Draco only sighs at your emotional outburst, rubbing his palms against each other as he looks at the dark wooden floor beneath your feet.

"So you now support the Dark Lord? Is that it?", you ask, now directly looking at him in utter disbelieve, ignoring his previous words. In your opinion, this is the only reasonable reaction when you are told your loved one wants to basically throw his life, and everything he has accomplished, away. And you are a huge part of that life which he would discard. Just like that.

"Y/N, you are missing my point!", Draco raises his voice now too, no longer being able to withstand the hurtful words you are throwing his way. "I need to do this, alright? It is none of your business anyway."

"N-None of my business?!", you stumble over your words, not believing your ears but one look at his face tells you that he is being deadly serious. For a moment, you hold in your breath and stare at him, looking into his eyes that seem to have darkened now.

"You know what? Alright, if it is your business and you want to follow in your father's steps, then I'm not needed here anymore", you say with a fake smile on your lips, passing him without looking at him again and leaving the room with fast steps. You do not listen when he calls after you, because if he really wanted to solve this, he would follow you. The fact that he does not, sends another dagger through your already suffering heart.

Standing in one of the cold hallways of Malfoy Manor, watched by the few family pictures that hang along the walls, you make your way to the next guest room where you plan on spending the night before being able to leave first thing in the morning.

You open the creaking door and enter the room, taking a look at the large bed with dark green bedding. Sighing, you let yourself fall onto the soft blanket in defeat and look at the panaled high ceiling.

The next moment, all the emotions come crushing down on you and you let your tears run free, crying into the soft bedsheets, grapping a fistful of it in your hand. You don't know how long you just lie there and cry bitterly, but when you suddenly jolt out of your sleep, drenched in sweat, it takes you a few seconds to realize where you are. The realization hits you painfully as you lean against the headboard, knees pulled towards your chest beneath the thick blanket and your hands trembling, pulling the safety of the fabric more towards you.

You thought you had already cried out all of your tears, but this terrible nightmare paralyzed your entire body and the tears streaming down your already puffed cheeks do not seem to stop. Trembling, you lower your forehead onto your knees, closing your eyes to dispose of those bad images, but they keep appearing in front of you. Crying into the blanket even harder, your mind comes up with the only plausible solution and before you know it, you find yourself standing in front of Draco's bedroom again, slowly opening the door.

With only your head poking in at first, you squint into the darkness, searching for any indications if Draco is asleep or not. When you only hear his soft breathing, you sneak towards your side of the bed and climb beneath the cold blanket as quiet as possible, trying to sniffle your tears.

Draco, however, senses that something is wrong and shifts in his sleep, turning onto his back. His hand slightly grazes yours and your breath gets stuck in your throat at the sensation. It only takes two more seconds until Draco opens his eyes, suddenly aware of the warm trembling body next to him.

Pushing onto his arms, he looks at you, confused, but once he hears your sobs, he takes you into his arms without any words, enveloping you in his warmth. Burrying your face in the crook of his neck, your crying grows even worse and you claw his shirt as if he could disappear any second.

"I-I was so scared, D-Draco", you stutter once you have caught your breath a bit more, holding your hands in front of your mouth to stop yourself from breaking down again. "Y-You were a Death Eater and they- they took you from me. H-He killed you, Draco."

Draco, who was busy wiping away your tears while listening, stops in his movement, his lips slightly parted in shock. In this moment, he hated himself for making you cry like this, for causing you such a horrible nightmare that you ended up thinking that you had lost him.

"He won't, Y/N. I promise", Draco whispers finally, not at all sure what he is supposed to say right now. On the one hand, he wants to make everything right again, but on the other hand he knows that he has responsibilites that he can't run away from.

"You can't promise me that", you sob, wiping away your tears by yourself now, your hands still a shaking mess.

"I'm so sorry, darling, but I have to follow him", he answers, his voice shaking as he softly takes your hands in his. "Otherwise he is going to kill me. But what is worse is that he is going to kill my family. He is going to kill you if I don't obey."

As he says these words and lets down his walls, you see a single tear running down his cheek, finding its way onto your intertwined hands below.

"We- We will find a way, baby", you try to assure him, squeezing his hand lightly. "You don't have to do this. We just need to fight. For us. For your family. For you."

"I will."

#draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy os #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy one shots #draco malfoy ff #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #draco fluff #draco angst #draco x female reader #draco x y/n #draco imagine #draco imagines #draco os #draco one shot #draco one shots #draco fanfic #draco ff #draco fic #draco fanfiction #hp imagine #harry potter fanfiction

[ikeuverse]

MARRIAGE RING — p.jongseong

PAIRING: husband!jay x fem!reader GENRES: fluff, angst, slight suggestive WC: 4.3k+

WARNINGS: mention of alcohol, partying and arguing. some swearing and implied mentions of having sex, but nothing detailed.

NOTES: as the winner of the vote, our beloved husband jay is here. i had this idea on a random day at work, with an almost similar situation with a colleague that works with me. i readapted and thought especially for this scenario. i was so nervous about writing to jay that i tried this four times until this final story came out. so, please, give lots of love. and i hope you like it!

masterlist

Your eyes roamed the entire place before they landed on Jay. A playful smile painted the boy's lips as he slowly approached you. As soon as one of his hands touched your waist, automatically your hand wrapped around his neck and let him brush his lips against yours.

"Enjoying the party?" he whispered against your lips before kissing them slowly, pulling away soon after.

"I guess Jiwoo could pick a better theme, huh?" you commented with a laugh, receiving another kiss from Jay.

Truth be told, you knew that your best friend and sister-in-law had always owned the best parties since your university days. Not least because you helped her prepare everything, so you knew how it always worked. But after two years of graduation, it never crossed your mind that she would throw a university-themed party.

"To remember the old times" you remember her saying when she called you to her house, bombarding you with information and asking for your help with the preparations. Just like in the old days.

You just laughed, because it was impossible to deny Park Jiwoo anything. Especially if she asked her fiancé, Heeseung, for help. He was a talker when he wanted to be and you knew him well, so having two talkers ask you for help was even more impossible to deny.

"Why a better subject? I think she chose well" Jay shrugged, balancing the cup in one hand while the other remained on your waist "Reminds you of old times."

"And you like it?" you asked curiously, Jay shrugged and lightly squeezed the fingers against your skin.

"I love it" he emphasized, leaning toward you after taking a sip of his drink. His lips were cold from the freshly consumed liquid, and you fought the urge to whimper when he kissed you once more. The hot breath tasted of vodka and some citrus fruit that you couldn't even identify, only feel the warmth of Jay's tongue fighting for dominance against yours. Before your lungs could clamor for air, he broke away, letting his forehead rest against yours.

"And give me one good reason why" you whispered, even though you knew he would hear over all that loud music because of the closeness of the two of you.

"Hm, let me see" he pretended to think for a moment, you laughed at his theatrics and Jay looked deep into your bright eyes "Because I met the woman of my life, who I married. Can you believe it?"

Your cheeks slowly began to burn, and you knew it wasn't from the alcohol because your glass had run out minutes before Jay arrived. And it couldn't have been just from a shared kiss with your husband, so you knew you were getting flushed.

Jay had that effect on you even after years of relationship, and even now, married.

"What a lucky woman" you said a little louder, kissing him again. Before you felt Jay's body quickly separate from you.

"Sorry about that, y/n. We need Jay now" Heeseung hummed, under protests from Jay for having to pull away from you.

"It's our beer pong, y/n. Just like old times" Jungwon smiled in your direction as he explained why they had taken Jay away. You laughed at your husband's little desperation, even though you did not object to staying.

"Now, it's just the two of us" Jiwoo came in surprise, hugging you by the shoulders "Just like old times, and forever and ever."

"Forever and ever" you smiled at her, hugging her back as you looked at the party around you.

Everything did look so nostalgic. From the decorations you helped Jiwoo buy, to even some of the familiar faces at the party. Your best friend made sure to think of everything, posting it online on the alumni wall of the university you attended for so many years. No sane person who knew the two of you would not be able to attend a party planned by the duo. So practically everyone who has ever had the pleasure of enjoying something prepared by you and her was there.

People greeted you as if you were still the little celebrities on campus, even if you didn't feel that way in the first place. Jiwoo was the little celebrity. Because he was part of the university media and had a super-cute, hot brother that practically every girl wanted. This last part always bothered you, but you started to think this way after Jay met you.

The wave of memories hit you, remembering exactly the day Jiwoo told you about his older brother and how horrible it was to have so many girls approaching her with an interest in him. You felt bad for her, and at the same time, you didn't believe her. Who would be so crazy about a person that they would approach someone out of interest? But once you got to know Jay, maybe you understood girls at least a little bit. Not that you did, because you were friends with Jiwoo even before you met Jay.

And that was the reason why the coming together of the two of you was so natural and even more approved by your sister and best friend. Because she knew that you were the only one not to do what almost all the girls on that campus tried to do.

You fell in love with Jay little by little, just as he fell in love with you until everything became love. Until your relationship stretched on for years and soon you both stood in front of the altar whispering yes as you exchanged rings.

That small object symbolically united the love you had for each other since the first day you met. With that you sighed heavily, your eyes glittering as you stared at Jiwoo at the present moment and your friend glared back at you.

"What? Are you emotional?"

"Yes" your breathing became a little shaky, so you had to take a deep breath to keep from crying "I was remembering us from the time we met."

"Really?" Jiwoo whined, now thinking of the day she saw you in the library cursing the old computer that wouldn't turn on at all. She ran to you and offered to help, handing you her laptop to finish a paper in your first semester. And that never separated you again.

"Yes, I swear" you squeezed her gently.

"I love you so much, best friend and sister-in-law in the world" Jiwoo dramatically threw his arms up in the air, then brought them back down only to hug you tightly. You laughed, returning her hug before you felt your best friend's hands slide down to your hands "Thank you for staying."

"I thank you for staying here" the drink was helping the little statements and you both just enjoyed it.

But before you could say anything else, Jiwoo's eyes widened when she ran her fingers through yours, her hands still together with both of yours.

"What?" you were startled by her expression, staring at her.

"Where's your wedding ring? You and Jay—"

Your eyes ran down to your fingers to see that your marriage ring wasn't there. A crushing tightness took over your chest and you could swear your vision blurred for a few seconds before you looked at Jiwoo again.

"Shit, I left it at home" both you and her eyes widened. Something seemed so simple, forgetting a marriage ring. But not a marriage ring that you knew Jay had worked so hard to buy and almost walked down the aisle with as he said a few words and put the ring on your finger.

"Now what?" before you could answer Jiwoo, your eyes quickly found Jay walking towards the two of you with the other boys this time.

"I managed to find you, ladies" he said cheerfully, looking at you and then at his own sister.

"How was the game?" Jiwoo asked, feeling the weight of Jay's arms on her shoulders.

"I had some weird juice that Jungwon made before we played" he grimaced as he remembered the taste, being followed by Heeseung's laughter.

"It wasn't as bad as Sunghoon" he laughed at the memory, really laughed "He drank pure vinegar."

Ew, you and Jiwoo hissed as they laughed at the poor guy who should be recovering from what happened.

"And you ladies, don't you want anything to drink?" Heeseung asked.

"We…" your gaze sought Jiwoo's quickly, trying to recover from the small shock of minutes ago. The boys, although consuming alcohol throughout the night, could tell that the two of you were hiding something.

"Hey Jay, I think we got in the middle of some important business" Heeseung hummed.

"Yeah, how about you two share with us?" he feigned innocence in his question, causing Jiwoo to snort at her brother and then at her fiancé, rolling her eyes afterward.

"You two are such busybodies, you know that?" she walked past them until she reached you, entwining her arm in yours "Me and y/n are going to go out and walk around a bit. Have fun."

She pulled you along even though she heard the two of them calling your names, but you both ignored it. Maybe walking around the place and even playing small talk with some familiar faces might get one of the two to think of some excuse in case Jay and Heeseung ran into them again.

"We just need to keep this out of your brother's eyes" you commented after they reached the kitchen, making sure that neither of them would be walking by anytime soon.

"I think Jay would freak out if he saw you without a marriage ring" she laughed, but felt bad after she met your worried eyes "Ok, sorry. We'll figure something out or not even touch the subject until you two get home."

You thanked her with a small nod, looking around the counter and searching for a clean glass. That scene repeated itself at almost every party, you and Jiwoo standing in the kitchen looking for something to drink while she told you some shocking subject and your gaze dribbled between your friend and the glasses on the counter to grab one and fill it up with booze. The thought made you laugh and she laughed along with you, even though she didn't know why.

And at that, Jiwoo got two glasses to fill them with something a little stronger than your previous drink. You wanted the same, so you didn't even dare to look for something else, just letting her prepare it while your hands played with the marble of the countertop.

"Jiwoo? Y/n?" the voice called out with such surprise that you both turned your necks at the same instant to the door of the room.

Your jaw dropped slightly in surprise when you found Ryan there. He was a nice guy from university, flirted with you both all the time, and even teased Heeseung and Jay once, pretending not to know that you two were engaged.

This resulted in Jay swearing at the boy and Heeseung almost punching him in the face if not for Sunghoon and Jake having to hold him down in the middle of the soccer field. After that Ryan didn't come any closer, at Sunghoon's request because he didn't want a heavy look on his team and much less at some future party that always took place every two weeks.

Now the boy was standing there, right in front of the two of you with a playful smile on his lips.

"Hey, Ryan. Back to nostalgia?" Jiwoo asked nonchalantly, finishing filling her glass and then finally handing over your own.

"I guess so" he moved closer to the counter, standing on the opposite side from where you two were standing. Maybe that distance was a little safer "The party of you two always being amazing. Even after university."

You two decided to agree, getting into whatever subject it was. And talking with Ryan suddenly seemed nice. Because he hadn't flirted, much less made the atmosphere as uncomfortable as it used to be. You and Jiwoo had completely forgotten that your partners had once almost hit the boy who was talking animatedly right in front of you.

"So" Ryan said after a while talking about his trip to Europe and how his current job was going "How are you and Heeseung doing?" he looked at Jiwoo. The passionate smile she gave him already gave everything away.

"We're doing so well" she sighed softly "Being engaged is wonderful, I can't wait to do the same as my brother."

And then she looked at you. Eyes shining in admiration and you smiled, taking the glass with the drink to your lips and taking a sip. Trying not to look so embarrassed because quickly the subject had turned to you.

"Uh, are you and Jay okay? I mean… The wedding…" Ryan said.

"Yeah, we're perfect" you placed your glass on the countertop, he narrowed his eyes at your words and leaned in a little. But you hadn't whispered anything after that.

"Then why don't I see a marriage ring on your finger?"

A brief moment of silence was interrupted by a loud gasp. Your gaze traced the figure of Jay standing right in the kitchen doorway. He had his jaw locked and sharp, looking crookedly at Ryan as he entered the kitchen.

"Jay" the boy greeted, but got no response more than a nod at him.

"Am I getting in the way of something?" he asked, you could feel the fury in his tone.

"No, we…" Jiwoo looked at you, searching for help to continue speaking.

"We were just leaving. We just came to get a drink, come on" you took Jay's hand and quickly ran from there. Without managing to say goodbye to Ryan, much less lookback. You also didn't know if Jiwoo was following you, but you knew that Jay had incredible strength when he pulled your hand and made you stop walking right in the middle of the hallway where you two were going.

The meeting of your body with his made Jay's face close to yours. The hard look and serious countenance still lingered on his face.

"I—" you began, but he interrupted you in the process.

"He doesn't see a marriage ring on your finger" Jay began and you knew he had heard everything. You were screwed "Why, y/n? Where's the fucking ring we shared?"

"Jay… Love…" you wanted to explain as smoothly as possible, but you knew it wouldn't work at that moment. So you just tried to smile as the words slid from your lips slowly at that moment "I ended up leaving at home—"

"Oh, right" Jay didn't let you finish, letting go of your body and taking a few steps away from you. Your brow furrowed as he reached for his own marriage ring and pulled it off his finger, putting it away in his pocket soon after "I forgot it tonight too. Enjoy the party, y/n."

And just as quickly as Jay reached you, he hurried away. You didn't know what had gotten into your husband to make him do that, but it had certainly made your blood boil, and consequently, your vision was blurred by the angry tears that threatened to fall.

You tried your best not to let the tears fall, but you faltered the moment you found Jiwoo at the party again. She knew something had happened as soon as she saw you stunned, seconds after seeing Jay walk through the door and out of the house without speaking to anyone.

"I don't want to hear it, just cry" she whispered as she hugged you, walking out with you from the crowd that didn't even seem to care about the two of you there. Too absorbed in dancing and drinking to pay attention to someone crying so late at night.

So you let her walk you to the bathroom, sobbing on your shoulder and telling you what had happened. Jiwoo cursed at Jay for what seemed like hours, but you knew it had only been a few minutes to get you to stop crying and listen to her carefully.

"I also fought with Heeseung because he saw Ryan at the party" she said after you had been quiet for a while, stroking your hair and encouraging you to look in the mirror to fix your newly smudged makeup.

"I don't know what made your brother do that" you gave a slight hiccup after washing your face a little, drying it, and trying to tidy your slightly messy hair.

Jiwoo sighed, giving a small smile at your rambling after you left the mirror. It was time for her to look and check that everything was presentable.

"So I guess I can take you home now" she spoke after you were done with everything and so was she, both came out of the bathroom to find Heeseung standing on the other side and leaning against the wall with his arms crossed "Damn, what a scare!"

He suppressed a smile, unbuckling himself from the wall to approach you and Jiwoo.

"I wanted to know if you two were okay" Heeseung tried not to comment on your crying appearance, and you thanked him for it "And I just called Jay, he's already home."

The couple's gaze hovered over you, and your uncontrollable urge to cry eventually returned. But it soon pulled away when you took a deep breath and looked back at them.

"I think I'll go too."

"Then we'll take you" Jiwoo looked at Heeseung, who smilingly agreed to his fiancée's request.

Without the strength or desire to refuse, because your ride was already at home, you accepted. And you let them drive you to your apartment in silence. Both of them respected your space while you fought back tears once again.

When the car stopped in front of your residence, you apologized so much to Jiwoo and Heeseung for leaving so this alone gave you the right to shed a few more tears before you entered the lobby of the building and ran to the elevator to your apartment. You didn't think about anything else, just wishing you a nice shower since it would be almost impossible to have any conversation with Jay that night.

And with that thought you opened the front door seeing that it was unlocked. Maybe he left it open because I don't have the keys, you thought and tried to make it happen without much ado.

Taking off your shoes in the hallway, you quickly ran into your room in silence, only to find Jay already lying on the bed. His attention, which had previously been on his cell phone, quickly ran to your figure standing in the bedroom doorway.

He didn't say anything, and neither did you. And that made you go straight to the shower without a conversation. Your mind wanders to how angry Jay's tone was when he spoke to you, then letting the water run down your body soaking your skin and hair. Thinking of the hurt look he had given you as soon as you arrived. Was he resentful? Was he hurt? You didn't know. And you couldn't know without a conversation, even if it didn't happen right now.

Washing your hair and body, after a long time, you turned off the shower and got ready for bed. It was the bare minimum. Your whole body was aching and only your bed would be able to ease that, even though your taste would be to have Jay's arms as well, you would settle for just your covers for one night.

When you came out of the bathroom, your eyes ran to the figure of your husband still sitting on the bed and leaning back against the headboard. It made you sigh, he didn't even move, you thought.

Trying to put the thought out of your mind, your steps went to your dressing table and that's when the vision hit you. Your marriage ring was right there. The small, shiny ring that you and Jay had equally, was right up there. And that reminded you of why.

Swallowing dryly with the lump forming in your throat, you took the ring and returned to your ring finger in moments, stroking it gently as you turned toward your bed. Walking slowly, you noticed that Jay was fighting the urge to look at you, but his eyes remained on his cell phone the entire time.

Would he give in? Was being alone having any effect on him at all? And like a still university feeling from the recent party, you made your way to the bed and went to your usual bedside. But before you could lie down or do anything, your body slid down and your legs steadied as you sat on Jay's lap.

"What…" he dropped the cell phone at the same second, looking up to meet your eyes.

A twinge in his chest hurt like a knife, looking up at the bright red orbs that stared back at him.

"What are you doing?" he managed to ask properly, his hands hovering beside his own body on the mattress still hesitant to touch you.

You lay still for a few minutes, staring at every point on Jay's face. His tight, well-defined jaw, his adam's apple rising and falling as he swallowed dry. Every little part of his tanned, well-washed skin, the damp hair against his forehead giving a final charm.

Your face tilted just enough so that your forehead brushed against Jay's, closing your eyes in the process as his breath grew heavy against your skin.

"The ring was left up there when I did my makeup earlier today" you began whispering, your hands slowly coming up until you held Jay's face between them "And from what I remember, I couldn't finish it because I was interrupted."

Jay could feel his cheeks burn this time, knowing that the culprit had been him. Arriving home early from work and excited because his sister was having a party, he knew that you would be getting ready much sooner than expected, especially since you would soon be leaving to help your sister-in-law with the preparations. He had to take a shower to get all the tension out of the day and also accompany you, staying there and not having to come back later.

But seeing you in that robe while applying makeup was too much for Jay's poor mind to think about. And the only thought was to untie the fabric from your body and take you for a second shower. This resulted in a delay, and you ran so fast to find Jiwoo that you hadn't even finished the second batch of makeup. All because your husband had taken too much time with you in the shower before they left.

"I—"

"You acted like a dumb university student, Jongseong."

"Hey!" Jay felt a strange sensation when you called him by his real name, knowing that it was only used on extremely serious occasions. That one was, indeed.

His hands had reached your waist in the middle of the conversation, his fingers playing with the fabric of your pajamas shyly while he too had his eyes closed.

"I'm sorry" he said, making you open your eyes. When you uncrossed your forehead from his, Jay also opened his eyes to get a better look at you "I'm sorry that I got a fucking idiot jealous and it got out of control."

His words suddenly faded, lost in Jay's eyes as his caress on your waist ran one hand up your back, while the other went straight to your face. Holding your cheek gently.

"I didn't mean to do what I did and I regret it so much because, I swear, I lost my mind at that moment" Jay let his thumb trace the entire line of your jaw before fitting his hand perfectly between your neck and the back of your head "And I hurt the woman of my life. Seriously y/n, seeing you like this is the last thing I want in this world."

"Then believe me, Jay" you whispered as low as you could, fearing to cry again in front of him "Believe me I would never do that to you, because it's not my intention."

"I know, love" Jay pressed his lips to your chin, moving up to your mouth to slowly seal your lips against his "Forgive me for being a shit tonight, I didn't mean to ruin the night."

"You're forgiven for being a shit" you chuckled softly when he murmured in 'hey', and quickly your hands went to his shoulders, where you managed to steady yourself a little more on Jay's lap "Please promise me one thing."

"Whatever you want" he whispered against your lips as you leaned in close.

"Don't act on impulse when you're jealous" your mouth blew a warm breath against his, making Jay sigh next "I don't like that version of you."

He swallowed dryly once again, his chest crunching with regret as a nod was given in response. Even though no words could express how sorry Jay was about the whole situation.

"Now, I need something" he hugged you around the waist after a while, pressing your body against his in such a welcoming way that you didn't even notice the moment Jay reversed positions, placing you lying against the mattress to hover over your body.

"Sure. What do you need?" you said after a euphoric giggle at having been taken by surprise when you lay down and had Jay's body right above yours.

He then leaned in, connecting your lips in a quick kiss before pulling away just enough to whisper against your mouth.

"I need a second round to prove how sorry I am…"

"Park Jongseong!" your hysterical shout cheered him, making Jay laugh as he pressed you against him. This time the name hadn't left his lips for a bad reason.

He really wanted to redeem himself, to entwine your hands with his and join your wedding rings as he enjoyed the whole evening with you.

© ikeuverse, 2023. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

#jay fluff #jay angst #jongseong fluff #jongseong angst #park jongseong angst #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #park jongseong fluff #enhypen au #enhypen jay #enhypen masterlist #jay x reader #park jay x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines

[luveline]

hiiii jade! i absolutely adore your writing, and when i saw you might be taking blurb requests i had to jump on it lol

can i request maybe a little blurb where reader goes to pick up her bf remus at the airport after a long time apart/being long distance for several months?

i hope thats not too specific, and please feel free to ignore it if it doesn't inspire you!

thanks gorgeous!

You might have worried that a long separation would make things fall apart. Remus would want things you couldn't offer over the phone, or he'd find someone at his university that was more interesting, but one conversation kept you going, one confession. 

If you can't do it, I won't go, he'd said. 

You hadn't known what he meant at first, still mulling over the idea of his being away for so long. What?

It wasn't fathomable. It was everything he'd ever worked toward, the peak of his career, the culmination of all his successes. You honestly thought before he said it that you wouldn't have a choice. Either you had to make it work for you or he'd leave you to live his life. 

But no. If it means we won't last, I won't go, he'd clarified, looking you in the eye, his lips hooked into one of his fond smiles. You're more to me than any of it. If we can't stretch the distance, I'll stay home. I'm happy to stay home. 

Obviously, he had to go. But it's a lot to know you're loved like that, so deeply he'd give up everything he worked for just to keep you. You'd never make him choose, and hence began the longest, most heart-breaking five months of your life. Every time you were supposed to visit him plans fell through. Each time he tried to come back there were things to do. But you know he got on his plane home, and you're pretty sure you know which escalator he's going to come down. You wait at the bottom of it, waiting, waiting. You start to worry he's somewhere else. 

"You come here often?" a warm voice asks from beside you. 

You flinch. "That's not funny!" you hiss, but then you get a good look at him and have to fight to stave off tears. Remus stands next to you, suitcase to his left, backpack weighing down his shoulders. He looks tired, but excitement lightens his eyes. 

Five months you will never, ever get back, and Remus is still so handsome. 

"Dove," he says. You almost forgot how he says it, like it's yours alone to be called. "Lovely, come here." 

You step into his arms: too much, too rough, almost chinning him as he grabs you. "Remus," you say in a gasp, startled as he bends back under your weight and your heels rise off of the floor. "Don't! Don't do that, I'm gonna crush you." 

He sets you back down carefully, but he doesn't say much, and he certainly doesn't let you go. You don't notice his quiet at first. You're too busy being selfish, soaking in the realness of his arms, the rigidity of his biceps and his forearms wrapped around you. 

"Was your flight okay?" you ask, tipping your head back. 

"It was fine." A silver shine of tears nestles between his soft lashes. "It felt long." 

"Don't cry," you say, again startled. "Remus, don't be upset. I'll start crying too and then we'll be that couple who cries on each other at the airport." 

He smiles and a tear rolls down his cheek. "I missed you. What was I thinking? What was I," —he scrubs at his eyes roughly— "thinking, I could be away from you that long?" 

You wipe his eyes much more gently. "I love you." 

"I love you too," he says, leaning down for a kiss. 

Your first kiss in five months has a lot to live upto. You'd been the one crying as you said goodbye at the airport, and Remus had left you with a kiss to remember, firm and sweet with his hands on either side of your face, as if to say, everything will be alright. 

You have to do the reassuring now. You weave your fingers into the soft mop of his sandy brown hair, his gentle curls, brushing them away from his cheek as you kiss him. It's definitely too open of a kiss for a public place and you're both prone to shyness, so after a few stolen seconds of heat you break the kiss to hide your face in his collar. 

"Please don't go away again." 

Remus laughs and sniffles. "No. I don't think I'd survive it." 

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders era #remus x reader #remus x you #marauders #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #marauders x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #the marauders

[luvhughes43]

you are in love | luca fantilli

[luvhughes43 masterlist🌷]

request: Loved the Luca fic! Can you write one with him based on “you’re in love” by taylor?

word count: 3.8k words

one look, dark room, meant just for you

time moved too fast, you play it back

buttons on a coat, lighthearted joke

no proof, not much

but you saw enough

you weren’t drunk enough to truly enough the frat party luca had invited you too. you were chatting with a few girls from one of your classes, but your attention kept straying to your best friend of many years. 

luca was undoubtedly your best friend. he was the reason behind a lot of your decisions - like committing to the university of michigan - and the reason why you struggle to talk to other guys at parties like these. because despite it all, you would always feel love for your best friend even if you couldn’t speak on that part out loud. 

now of course you didn’t do everything for him but… sandbox love never dies. so when you discovered that michigan offered you a substantial scholarship… a school that your best friend coincidentally had committed to playing hockey for… how could you have turned it down? 

“okay, and i swear the lectures never make any sense! like there’s no structure at all” the girls around you continue to talk but you were no longer paying attention. Luca had caught your eye, mouthing a quick you okay? from across the crowded room. you nod politely, and turn your attention back to the girls in front of you. 

you're interrupted less than a minute later however when luca - grinning - taps on your shoulder. “you ready to go?” he asks, head so close to yours you could count his eyelashes if you wanted to. 

“yeah just let me go grab my coat,” you reply, waving goodbye to your friends and taking hold of lucas hand so the two of you don’t get separated. 

it takes a few minutes but you find your roommate gwen who was guarding your belongings for you, and you give her a quick hug before grabbing hold of all your things. 

“are you guys leaving?” she asks, looking between you and your best friend with a knowing glint in her eyes. 

luca nods and grabs your things from your hands. he has your purse slung around his shoulder and your coat held up for you to slip your arms into. 

“yeah, luca’s tired” you joke, smiling back at him as you pull your arms through your jacket sleeves. 

luca rolls his eyes and spins you around before buttoning up your coat for you. when he did things like this for you, you swore that it was impossible for your feelings to not be requited. 

“tired of being bored because you ditched me, maybe!” luca smiles, your burgundy bag still sitting pretty on his shoulder. 

“you're right, I should've known better! no party is fun without me,” your reply was meant to be taken as a joke but luca enthusiastically agrees with you. 

“alright, well you guys drive safe! yn text me when you get back home. i might be late,” gwen says, her eyes catching on somebody in the distance. 

“okay i will! love you, bye!” the two of you part ways, and luca immediately slips his hand back in yours under the guise of “not being separated…”

Small talk, he drives

coffee at midnights

the light reflects

the chain on your neck

lucas passenger side isn’t an uncommon place for you. everything about his car felt familiar. he had bought it used back in freshman year, and it was beat to all hell with the amount of hockey boys and trips it’s been through. 

“hey, did you hear that rutger got a girlfriend?” luca asks about five minutes into the drive. car rides between the two of you were mostly in comfortable silence, neither of you needing to say much to enjoy your time together. 

“no i didnt. is she nice?” you respond, letting your gaze shift from the dark streets in front of you to the boy beside you. 

“yeah, i think you’d really like her,” the conversation falls flat after that. you can’t help but pay attention to luca. his grown out hair, the way his hand flexed around the steering wheel… how the light is hitting the chain hanging from his neck just right. 

with all the years you’ve spent with luca, you’ve never once got tired of the sight of him. even when the two of you were back in toronto and he had braces with all the hideous band colours. 

you would also never get tired of his company. it was all just so easy being with him like this. even though you wanted more, you thought that it always going to be enough to just be his best friend. 

“do you want to get coffee?” lucas voice breaks through your thoughts, and your smile becomes impossibly wider. coffee at midnight - as strange as it sounds - became yours and lucas tradition ever since your first final season when the two of you were exhausted and in desperate need of caffeine. luca had managed to find the only coffee shop in ann arbor that was still open, and ever since then the tradition had continued. 

he says, “look up”

and your shoulders brush

no proof, one touch

but you felt enough

luca was at your usual spot in less than ten minutes, parking the car and rushing over to your door to open it. which was another one of your many traditions. you had seen it in a romcom once, something so simple and yet so charming at the same time, and since then whenever he could luca would open your door for you. 

“look up,” luca says, gesturing up to the sky adorned with hundreds of stars. 

you look up, shoulders brushing against lucas when you feel the familiar rush of butterflies in your stomach. 

luca looks down at you, a soft smile on his face as he appreciates you without you noticing. 

you can hear it in the silence

you can feel it on the way home

you can see it with the lights out

you are in love

true love

you are in love

the coffee shop is quiet when you enter, and you order yours and lucas coffees to-go. while you're waiting, you catch lucas gaze on you and your cheeks heat up accordingly. you were so in love with him… 

“i’ve got one sugar one cream, and two creams two sugars!” a barista calls out and you immediately grab your coffees. 

back in the car luca asks you a question, “do you want to stay at my place tonight?” now, this wasn’t something unfamiliar for you two but every time he asked it still felt like the first time. it felt like how it did years ago, like giggles and blushes and unspoken feelings. 

you easily accept, “yeah sounds good. i don’t have any of my things though”

“I bought you a toothbrush when i went to the store last week,” luca flashes you a smile.

“a little bit presumptuous huh?” you tease. whenever you’ve gone to lucas before it was always pre-planned. therefore there was no reason for you to leave any of your stuff at his place. 

“oh i knew it’d happen eventually,” he jokes. “I know you love me,” luca smiles again and your heart races. could he know? has he known all these years? 

when you don’t immediately respond, luca frowns. “you're my best friend… i’d hope you’d love me?”

you shake your head to rid yourself of your thoughts. “no, of course i love you. my best friend forever!” you sing, hoping that you’ve masked your feelings well. there was absolutely no way - even if there were multiple signs that luca loved you - that you were going to confess your feelings. you weren’t going to risk your many years of friendship on something that he may not actually feel. 

yn to gwen: hey! there’s been a change of plans and i’m staying at lucas tonight. be safe tonight!

gwen: ok!!! you be safe too🤭

morning, his place

burnt toast, sunday

you keep his shirt

lucas sheets are cold, and you know that because you're tangled in them. you push your hair out of your face and sit up in bed, quickly noticing your best friend’s absence. 

you let yourself adjust to your surroundings for a moment, before a whiff of something burnt reaches your nose. 

“luca?” you call out, before getting out of his bed and making your way into the kitchen. 

luca was standing there in his pajamas, trying and failing miserably to cook breakfast. he looks up at the sound of your voice, eyes trailing your body as he takes in your outfit. 

“i’m loving the look,” he says, referring to his shirt and sweats you borrowed last night. 

you roll your eyes, laughing lightly as you walk up to luca to assess the damages he's done to the food. “how is it that you’re 21 and don’t know how to cook?” 

“aht! aht! aht! this is gourmet!” he gestures towards two messy plates. 

“ah sorry!” you amend. “i wasn’t familiar with your work” 

“yes! this is the great fantilli breakfast which i am proud to serve…” he passes you a plate and you smile up at him as you lean against his counter. 

the two of you eat in silence for a while before luca pauses and looks up at you. “you should keep that shirt by the way,” he says, completely catching you off guard. 

you wipe the crumbs from the corner of your mouth, “really?” you set your plate to the side. 

“yeah it looks really good on you,” 

you hum in agreement, twirling around in the kitchen so luca can see the full effect of his shirt. “i think i look really good in your car too!” you tease and luca sets his plate down. 

“oh yeah?” he replies, smirking.

“mhmm think i might have to keep it,” you advance towards luca playfully, grabbing ahold of his hands when you finally reach him. 

luca squeezes your hands, “sorry but the car comes with me,” 

you pause for a minute, pretending to contemplate whether the car, luca included, was worth it. “i think… i can find a place for you!”

“oh you think?” luca laughs, breaking apart from your hold to tickle your sides. 

“okay i know so!” you pant, trying but failing to break free from lucas grasp. 

“hmm.. I don’t think i heard you…” he teases, not pausing from his tickling. 

“okay okay! I want you and the car!” you yell, and when luca stops his attacks on your sides you fall against him. he wraps his arms around you and all of sudden you feel the butterflies from earlier float from your stomach and up to your chest. 

he keeps his word

and for once, you let go

of your fears and your ghosts

luca drives you home later that afternoon. you're clad in his t-shirt and your jeans from last night, and for a moment you allow yourself to forget about your rules and to imagine what it’d be like if luca was really your boyfriend. 

one step, not much

but it said enough

you kiss on sidewalks

you fight, then you talk

months go by and you two are still in the same positions that you’ve always been in - helplessly in love but too afraid to say anything. 

it was graduation weekend, 4 long years of university long gone and so were your childhood years well beyond that. you hold luca’s hand comfortably as the two of you walk around campus one last time as students. the sun was setting, and there was nowhere else that you would rather be. 

“remember first year when we were walking to the library and some girl came up to you and asked you for your phone number? did you give it to her? i can't remember anymore,” you ask mindlessly. 

luca hums in acknowledgement, “yeah i remember. but no i didn’t give it to her,” he responds, squeezing your hand. “remember when that guy… what's his name? from the football team spilt his drink on your top at the first party we went to here?”

you snort, recalling the memory. “yeah, and then he asked me to dance”

“did you dance with him? i can't remember,” luca asks. 

you lead luca forward, “no i didn’t” 

the two of you send each other knowing glances but neither of you acknowledges the obvious truth between the two of you. you were both in love. 

when you get to a crosswalk you pause and turn to luca. “remember in second when i was late for econ and i almost got hit by a car because i was running and didn’t look before crossing the road?” that was an awful day. everything had been going wrong but there had been one nice moment… luca had brought you dinner at the end of the day and the two of you sat together as you both ranted about how much harder second year was turning out to be. 

luca doesn’t respond, and when you look up at him he blanks. “lu…?” 

you hadn’t even realized that he was moving towards you until he kissed you. lips soft as they brushed against yours in an impossibly tender kiss. it lasts a few seconds, and when luca pulls away you sigh. 

“wow…” “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i did that” you both speak at the same time, both of your tones are drastically different. 

“oh” your shock was clearly evident because luca started back pedaling. 

“like it was nice but i don't…” 

“don't what…” 

luca is the one to sigh this time and it’s not out of pleasure. “we’re best friends i shouldn’t have done that,” 

at first you were hurt, but then you were angry. who cared if you were best friends? you felt so strongly about luca and now more than ever you knew he felt that same way. “luca-”

“no we don’t have to talk about this, really. it was a mistake and it won’t happen again,” he assures you, and your heart breaks. you nod silently, biting the inside of your cheek as you drop lucas hand and turn back to where you had just walked from.

“i think i’m going to head back now… it's getting kind of chilly,” you lie, just wanting to be free from luca. 

luca starts to shrug off his sweater but you hold one of your hands up to stop him. “no, you should have it” he tries again but you still don’t let him give you his sweater.

you let out a weak laugh, thinking back to the time luca had given you his shirt earlier in the year. you had let yourself think that he liked you back… “i’m fine, thanks” is all you say before you start to walk back to your apartment. this time instead of holding hands, you're holding yourself. 

weeks later this moment becomes insignificant to the both of you, but that doesn’t mean you still don’t reflect on it whenever luca shows any type of affection towards you. 

one night, he wakes

strange look on his face

pauses, then says

“you’re my best friend”

and you knew what it was

he’s in love

graduation is long over now, and your first summer out of school treats you with kindness. yours and lucas friends had decided to rent a beach house along the coast of florida, and so for the past week you’ve done nothing but drink and lounge happily with your group of people. 

rutgers girlfriend, you were quick to find out, was insanely nice and kind. the two of you had grown close, and so it came to no surprise that when luca spotted rutgers girlfriend outside, that you were close by. 

“i’m headed off to bed,” luca says, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “just thought i’d let you know so you don’t go looking for me,” he jokes, pulling you into his side like any boyfriend would. except you werent dating, and the bed he was referring to was being shared between the two of you since there weren't enough rooms for everybody to get their own. 

“okay, i’ll meet you in a bit,” you respond, breaking eye contact with rutgers girlfriend and turning your attention to your best friend. 

“sounds good,” is all luca says before dropping his arm and sauntering back into the house. you wish your eyes knew better than to trail after him and yet… you couldn’t help but stare at his back muscles as he retreated. it was going to be a long summer…

when you crawled into bed that night, luca was already asleep. you stare up at the ceiling fan, wondering if you’d ever fall out of luca. it was getting too hard to love him. 

luca always had some strange extra sense when it came to you. so it came to no shock that he had awoken shortly after you had laid down. you turned your head away from the ceiling and onto the brunette boy laying next to you.

“you’re my best friend,” luca mumbles, moonlight from the open window casting a soft glow onto his face. 

“you’re my best friend too,” you reply simply, voice breaking slightly as you realize the weight of your words. best friends… it was all you were ever going to be. 

“no, don’t be upset…” luca whispers, wiping away the tears that were rolling down your face. the genuine concern on his face made you want to cry harder. his first thought was always to protect you. 

“i’m sorry,” 

“no sorry,” he slurs, sleep catching up to him. 

you don’t say anything in reply, opting for the silence to wash over the two of you once more. luca didn’t remember this exchange in the morning. 

you can hear it in the silence

you can feel it on the way home

you can see it with the lights out

you are in love

true love

you are in love

once the trip is over you fly back to your family home in toronto. you busy yourself with work and childhood friends, and things start to become a new normal for you. now that you and luca weren’t living in michigan anymore, your hang outs became much more sparse. 

or at least, until adam had a game against the leafs and luca had sent you tickets to watch the game with him. 

you sat next to luca during the game, shoulders brushing and smiles exchanged. and you so desperately knew that even if neither of you could vocalize your feelings, there would always be love between you. 

you two are dancing in a snow globe ‘round and ‘round

and he keeps a picture of you in his office downtown

and you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars

and why i’ve spent my whole life trying to put it into words

five years go by and you and luca are still close friends. though instead of midnight coffee and study sessions it’s a quick lunch and texts between work tasks. 

tonight was different though, because you were being promoted at work and so you dressed up in your finest attire for the dinner being thrown in your honour. you had told luca all about it, and when you stood up in front of your colleagues and their spouses to accept your new position in the company, you were delighted to catch a glimpse of luca amongst the crowd. 

when everything was over and done, you walk as fast as you can to luca. “lu you’re here!” you shriek, throwing yourself into his open arms. the two of you rock back and forth for a moment, completely enamoured with one another. 

“of course I'm here! i'm so proud of you,” he smiles widely, never dropping his arms from around you. 

“thank you for being here,” you mirror his smile, giggling slightly when you realize his attention is still solely on you. 

‘cause you can hear it in the silence

you can feel it on the way home

at the end of the night luca drives you home instead of letting you take an uber. his car is much nicer now that he’s out of university, and you want to make a joke similar to the one from all those years ago… something about wanting his car and him, but you can't remember it properly enough to recite it. 

you can see it with the lights out

you are in love

true love

you are in love

when you're parked, luca steps out first and rounds the front of his car. he opens your door as he did all those years before, and all the butterflies from years prior seem to find their wings again as they start to flutter. you’re in love.

“thank you,” you say as you step out of luca’s car. you look up at the night sky, to be pleasantly surprised by the amount of stars that rarely grace the toronto skyline. “luca look up,” you tug on his blazer sleeve. 

when luca meets your gaze and looks up at the sky, he can only think of one thing. he’s in love. 

“yn…” luca whispers just as you tilt your head to face him. 

“luca…” you turn your body towards him, both of you are still standing right next to lucas car in your parking lot. 

before you can doubt yourself, you’re leaning over and grazing your lips against your best friends. luca doesn’t pause this time, instead he pulls you closer to him as he deepens your kiss. you sling your arms around his shoulders, and his hand rests itself on the back of your head. 

when you pull apart you're both breathing heavily. “wow…” “wow…” you both echo each other and luca leans his forehead against yours. 

“i’m sorry if this is too soon but… i love you,” 

you can’t help but giggle at his words. “lu we’ve been waiting for what seems like a lifetime,” you slip your lips back against his and pull apart much sooner than you would like. “i love you too,” 

“good,” luca’s smile is breathtaking. “because i’m never letting you go again,” 

you tighten your grip around his neck and you let your hand find its rightful place in the hairs at the back of his neck. “who says i was going to let you?” you hum. “i’ve waited way too long for this,” 

luca’s lips are on yours again, and for a moment it feels like you can't breathe between the love coursing through your veins and all the butterflies. “way too long,” luca whispers as he pulls his lips away from yours. 

you can feel it on the way home

you can see it with the lights out

you are in love

true love

you are in love

#luca fantilli x reader #luca fantilli imagine #luca fantilli blurb #luca fantilli fic #umich blurbs #umich imagine #umich fic

[dixons-sunshine]

js read your shopping spree and dying for your haircut fics and omg

can u pretty please, with a bow on top, write another part to that series or like an au where they get separated at the fall of the world and a few season later (preferably that prison era of daryl he was so fawking sexy there like omg) they found each other again and i want some build up to their reunion yk like someone else finds r and brings them in and some ppl kinda chatting abt the new girl or wtv and dars not rlly gaf cuz he kinda getting tired of trying to find r (realistically i don’t think he’d give up easily but let’s js pretend yk) but then they see each other and they’re like omfg the love of my life’s here and safe and like i need that glenn and maggie type reunion but like tenfold bc r and dar alr loved and knew each other before the fall yk and like yeah😣

idky but i’m a sucker for “r and daryl had a relationship beforehand, got separated, and reunited” trope (?) fic, blurb shit and you’d literally be godsent if u wrote this oml

I Found You | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When the dead started to rise and the world went to hell, Daryl got seperated from you, the love of his life. After over a year of searching for you and finding no evidence of your survival, Daryl was beginning to give up and count his losses. One day, Carol stumbled upon a wounded woman while out on a run with Glenn, and the two of them decide to accept you into the prison. Little did they know, that would end up being one of the best decisions they could've ever made.

Genre: Angst to fluff.

Era: Prison, pre season 4, post season 3.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, death, mentions of attempted sexual assault (not descriptive)

Word count: 4.3k

A/n: Thank you so much for the request! I've decided to write the au since there's already a part three for the SSHD (Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams) universe in the works, but this request was way too good to not write. I hope you like it! And I absolutely agree with you. There's something about prison era Daryl that just hits different. He was on another level completely.

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests.

(Just thought I'd say that both third- and second person is used. I referred to the reader in third  person when Glenn and Carol first met her, but it soon shifts to second person when she introduced herself. Just thought I'd let y'all know the shift is intentional.)

—

“Okay, so I can't guess what you did before all of this correctly, but I bet there is something that I will be right about.”

Daryl looked at Zach skeptically as they trudged through the abandoned store, looking for supplies to bring back to the prison. “Yeah? Wha's tha'?”

“You're brooding, quiet, you like to keep to yourself,” Zach started, leaning nonchalantly against one of the shelves while he watched the archer place multiple different packs and boxes into his bag. “The way you act most of the time would suggest you've never been in a relationship before, but there are clear signs that you were with someone before all of this.”

Daryl stiffened for a moment, his hand lingering above a pack, before regaining his composure and continuing his task. “Wha' signs?”

“Well, for one, you know exactly what kind of tampons and pads to get for the ladies at the prison. I would've just dumped everything in and have them sort through it, but you are only taking specific brands,” Zach pointed out, motioning to the box of tampons Daryl had just put back onto the shelf.

When Daryl didn't reply, Zach took that as his cue to continue. “And while we're on the topic of periods, you seem to know exactly what to get the girls for the pain and what to do to curve their bad tempers. What guy would know that if he didn't have a girlfriend before all of this? And to top it all off, and this is totally unrelated to everything I just said, I've seen that locket necklace you keep in your pocket. It's pretty worn out and faded, but you can definitely tell it's something from this generation, so it can't be something that was passed down from a relative, so that brings me to my conclusion. You, Daryl Dixon, had a girl before all of this.”

Daryl sighed, shutting his eyes tightly as he willed the onslaught of memories away. Memories that were too painful to think of, memories that did nothing but remind the archer of his failure. His failure at finding you, the love of his life, after the dead started walking. A failure he had to live with for as long as he remained alive.

Daryl opened his eyes and turned abruptly, leaving the young man behind him as he stalked towards the exit, his bag slung over his shoulder. Zach hurriedly caught up to him, struggling to keep at a steady pace beside him as Daryl strode quickly, wanting to put some distance between him and Zach.

“Woah, man! Slow down!” Zach complained, jogging to keep up with him. “Was it because I brought up the girl thing? I didn't realise it was a touchy subject.”

“It ain't none of yer damn business,” Daryl grumbled under his breath, stalking over to the truck him and Zach were using that day.

“Daryl! Come on, man. It's not that deep.”

Daryl gritted his teeth as he opened up the driver's side door of the truck, throwing his bag into the back before climbing inside. He started up the truck and revved the engine, a warning sign to Zach that he was about to leave, with or without him.

Zach hurriedly scurried into the passenger seat, barely having time to close the door before Daryl started speeding off. He gripped the edge of his seat, sending Daryl an exasperated look.

“Daryl, what the hell? Calm down!” he exclaimed, unnerved by the archer's sudden burst of fury. He'd seen Daryl angry before, but it was never directed towards him. It was downright scary.

“'M calm,” Daryl replied through gritted teeth, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“That's what you call calm?!” Zach exclaimed, motioning out towards the road. “You're driving like a maniac! Slow down!”

Daryl simply ignored the man, keeping his eyes trained on the road. Memories of you unwillingly flooded his mind. Memories of your smile, your laugh and your beautiful eyes. Memories of the calm mornings you'd spend with the archer in your shared sad excuse for an apartment where the hot water was a joke. Memories where you'd both stand under the cold water of the shower, Daryl embracing you from behind in an attempt to make the cold water bearable for you. Memories of your loving touch on his skin, your fingers lightly tracing over the scars on his back as you whispered reassuring things into his ear, assuring him that his father's abuse had nothing to do with him, that it wasn't his fault that any of that happened to him.

The more Daryl's mind wandered, the more he remembered some of the bad memories. All those arguments you had with him over some of his escapades with Merle, telling him that it would only get him into trouble, flooded his mind. One of those arguments ended up being the reason he got seperated from you in the first place.

Merle had wanted to go do some drug deal and had barged into your apartment, practically dragging Daryl from your bed. You had begged him not to go, arguing with him that it was a bad idea and that something would go wrong this time. He remembered being so angry at you for insisting during that argument that Merle wasn't good for him, that he needed to cut back on seeing him or set some boundaries with him. He had stormed out of the apartment without so much as a goodbye, and now he regretted it more than he's regretted anything before in his life.

Daryl blamed himself daily for not having listened to you that day. If he had, he never would've been seperated from you and you would've been safe by his side. He longed to have you by his side again, to tell you that he was sorry and that he loved you. However, even after all this time of searching, going out for extended periods of time to look for signs of you, it was to no avail. You were gone, and it was all his fault.

“Daryl? Are... you okay?”

Daryl snapped back to reality at the sound of Zach's concerned voice. He felt a droplet of water roll down his cheek and he hurriedly wiped it away, realising that he was crying. He hadn't even realised that tears had started to well up in his eyes, so immersed was he in his own thoughts.

“'M fine,” Daryl insisted, wiping his eyes hurriedly as he willed the tears away.

Zach furrowed his eyebrows, before realisation dawned on him. “You did have a girl before all of this. You lost her, didn't you?” he asked sympathetically.

Daryl hesitantly nodded, swallowing in an attempt to get rid of the lump in his throat. “I didn't lose her,” he began, bringing the truck to a halt in front of the prison gates as he waited for someone to open them.

“I don't know if she's even dead at all. She's just... Gone.”

—

“What are we looking for, exactly?” Glenn asked Carol as they scanned over the shelving of an abandoned pharmacy, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Carol sighed as she looked upon yet another empty shelf, its medical contents a thing of the past. “Anything medical. With all the new people we've been taking in, the supplies we have aren't going to be enough.”

“Okay,” Glenn drawled hesitantly. “But it doesn't look like there's anything worth scavenging here.”

“Let's just do a once over before we check the back. If there's nothing, we head on back. It's getting late,” Carol instructed. Glenn nodded, and the two of them dispersed to sweep through the small store once more.

“So,” Glenn started. “Is it just me, or has Daryl been more grumpy than usual?”

Carol hummed in agreement. “He has. He gets angry at the smallest of things lately.”

“Do you know why?”

“No,” Carol said, shaking her head. “I've asked him, but he won't say anything. Just tells me to mind my own business. It's really odd. He's more like he was back at the quarry. More closed off and snappy and I don't know why.”

“It's ever since he came back from that run with Zach a week ago,” Glenn replied, meeting up with the Carol again to go into the back room. “I've asked Zach if he knows why, but he refused to say anything. Says it's not his place to say.”

Carol frowned, opening the door that lead into the back room. “That's odd. So that means something—”

“Stay right there. Don't move another inch or I swear to god I'll shoot.”

Both Carol and Glenn froze in their tracks. They looked up and locked eyes with a woman, who's eyes were fiery as they darted between them.

“Names. Now. And weapons on the ground.”

“Okay, alright,” Carol responded, trying to diffuse the situation. She slowly lowered her gun and knife to the ground, urging Glenn to do the same. “I'm Carol, and this is Glenn. Now before we answer anymore questions, what's your name?”

The woman hesitated for a moment. “Y/n. What are you doing here?”

“We were looking for some supplies,” Carol spoke truthfully, eyeing the gun aimed at her carefully. “We're running low on medical things.”

After a couple of long, tense moments, with you scanning them from head to toe, you nodded to yourself after spotting something. Deciding to trust them for now, you slowly lowered the gun. However, you quietly hissed in pain, quickly clutching your side as you stumbled to regain your balance. After you steadied yourself, you limped over to your bag and grabbed a few things before handing them over to Carol and Glenn.

“Here. Hope these help. The place was ransacked when I got here. Wasn't a lot left to clear out.”

“Thank you, but we need more than this. This isn't going to last us long,” Carol responded, placing the items into her bag.

“No offence, lady, but I think I need the supplies more than you do at the moment. And I gave you more than half already. I can't spare more,” you said, clutching your side tightly.

“What happened?” Glenn asked, pointing to the your side, unable to stop his curiosity from seeping through.

“Flesh eaters,” you replied nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders. “I was fighting a bunch of them when one lunged at me from the side. It toppled me through a broken window, and a shard sliced me.”

“Don't you have a group? Couldn't they help you?” Glenn questioned.

“Nope. I've been on my own since this whole thing started. I guess I should probably find a group, though. Things like this wouldn't happen if I had backup.”

You gingerly lifted your shirt, and both Carol and Glenn grimaced at the painful sight. The wound was deep and oozing blood. It would definitely need stitches, as well as someone to remove the remaining fragments of glass that still painfully stuck out of the wound. It was terrible. You wouldn't be able to get it all out without a professional.

Suddenly, an idea struck Carol. “You gave us some of the supplies you scavenged without even knowing us. Why?”

“Well, you didn't try to kill me, even after I held you at gunpoint. And by the looks of it, you guys have a group and are set up somewhere. Figured I should do the honourable thing and offer up some medical things if there's kids involved.”

“How do you know there's kids?” Glenn asked, confused.

“I can see the toys in your bag,” you pointed out, motioning to the toy truck that stuck out of the top of his bag. “Figured that adults wouldn't be playing with toy trucks while the world was ending.”

“Still, why would you? You don't owe us anything,” Carol questioned, though her mind was already set on one thing.

“Some might call me naive, but I hope that by doing some good in this fucked up world, karma will decide to do something good for me. That probably makes me stupid as shit, huh?” you replied, laughing before wincing at the pain that shot through your side at the small action.

Carol smiled at you. “We have a group set up not too far from here, at the prison. You can join if you want, but you have to answer three questions first.”

You raised your eyebrows at her. “Three questions? That's it?”

“Yeah.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Alright, shoot.”

“How many walkers have you killed?” Carol began, watching you closely.

“A lot. Too many to keep track of at this point.”

“How many people have you killed?”

You hesitated for a moment, guilt creeping up on you. “Three.”

“Why?”

“Two of them were bit. They asked me to kill them. The other one... That bastard tried to rape me. I wouldn't let him.”

“I'm sorry,” Glenn said sympathetically.

“It's fine. I'm fine,” you waved him off, before turning your attention back to Carol. “How'd I do? Satisfactory enough?”

Carol nodded. “For me, yes. You'll still need to meet the leader and have him evaluate you, but I think you'll be alright. You'll fit in just fine.”

“Hopefully,” you laughed nervously, instantly paying the price for it with a sharp pain shooting up your side, making you visibly wince.

“Come on, let's get going. We have a doctor who can get that checked out for you,” Glenn prompted. He walked over to you and grabbed your bag, stopping your protest instantly. “It's fine, I've got it. One extra bag won't kill me.”

Together, all of you made your way out of the pharmacy and over to their car. You got settled in the back while Carol and Glenn got into the front, and before long you were setting off to the prison. Your eyes were beginning to droop, but Glenn seemed eager to get to know the new recruit better.

“What were you doing out there on your own anyway?”

“I was looking for my boyfriend. I was hoping that he might still be alive.”

“No luck?” he asked.

“No,” you shook your head, pursing your lips. “I'm beginning to think I might never find him, if he's even still alive.”

“Never say never,” Glenn encouraged you. “You'll find him someday, I know it.”

“I really hope so.”

—

“Have you seen that new chick Glenn and Carol brought back? She's a real looker.”

“I know, right? You think she's into blondes?”

“Even if she was, I doubt she'd go for your scrawny ass.”

“Easy, boys. She might not even be into guys. I could have a shot with her for all you know.”

Daryl groaned inwardly as he entered the cellblock. The new girl that Glenn and Carol brought in the day before was seemingly the hottest topic of discussion amongst everyone and he couldn't escape it, no matter where he tried to run to. Nobody, apart from Glenn, Carol, Rick and Hershel have officially met her, yet everybody had seemingly already formed an opinion about her. Although there were a lot of different opinions, everyone seemingly agreed on one thing; the new girl was hotter than hell.

Daryl was the only guy in the entire prison that hadn't seen her yet. He was out hunting when Carol and Glenn brought her back and he hasn't bothered to go out of his way to introduce himself to her ever since he got back. He'd meet her soon enough and he wasn't hoping to make friends with her. The more people he managed to keep at arm's length, the better.

“Yo, Daryl. What do you think about the new chick?” a guy called Mitchell asked him, snapping him from his thoughts.

Daryl shrugged. “Ain't met her yet,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay, but have you seen her?” another guy called Ronnie asked. “I'm telling you, man, hotter than the sun on a summer day. I'm hoping she'll let me hit at least once.”

“How 'bout ya leave the poor girl alone?” Daryl snapped, turning to face the group that was walking with him. “She ain't even been here two days and y'all are already ogling her like she's some prize to be won. Have some more respect.”

“Jeez,” Mitchell whistled. “What's got your panties up in a bunch?”

“Nothin',” Daryl muttered angrily, turning around to walk further into the cellblock. “Jus' wanna get this fuckin' job done and all y'all can do is yap 'bout some girl ya dun' even know properly. I dun' give two flyin' shits 'bout who or wha' ya talk 'bout, but do it after the job's done. Y'all ain't free loadin' here. Do yer job, earn yer keep.”

“Sorry,” a girl called Ariana muttered, sending him an apologetic look. “What do you need us to do?”

“Take those planks over there and take em to the guard tower. Rick wants to fortify it and wants it done by the end of the week.”

“What are you gonna do?” Ronnie asked, crossing his arms as he sized Daryl up.

Daryl glared at him and squared his shoulders, looking down on his shorter, scrawny frame. “Hershel needs help with somethin'. I believe ya can understand tha' if the doctor needs somethin' done, it's considered top priority?”

Ronnie shrunk under Daryl's intense glare, nodding quickly. “Yeah, of course.”

“Great.”

With that, Daryl turned on his heel and set off to find Hershel. He didn't have to search far, however, because Hershel halted him before he could go outside.

“Daryl, over here,” the old man called after him, halting him in his tracks.

Daryl turned and walked over to Hershel, nodding at him respectfully. “Wha' ya need, Doc?”

“I'm sure you've heard of the girl Carol and Glenn brought back yesterday by now?” Hershel questioned, chuckling at the slight groan Daryl emitted.

“Who hasn't? Apparently she's really good lookin'. Her looks has been all people has to say 'bout her.”

Hershel nodded. “Unfortunately, that is true. Only Rick, Glenn, Carol and myself has had the pleasure of meeting her personally up until this point. She's a lovely woman. Had no problem that there wasn't anything to ease the pain when I had to stitch her side and she's more than willing to get up and start working to earn her keep. She won't be able to for at least another day or so since her side needs to heal up a bit first, but Carol and Glenn did good with bringing her back. She'll fit right in.”

“Good,” Daryl nodded. “She a good fighter?”

“From what I understand, she's been out on her own since the beginning. She's not dead yet, so I'd say she's alright,” Hershel replied, adjusting on his crutches.

“Alrigh', now enough 'bout her. Wha' did ya need me to do?”

Hershel gave him an encouraging pat on the back, confusing the archer. “You're going to be one of the very few people who gets to say they met the new girl for the next couple of days. I was hoping you could help her fix her bunk? One of the legs on the bunk broke and she's dead set on repairing it. She won't let me help because she keeps insisting I've done enough for her, so I told her I would send someone else to help. She'll be expecting you.”

Daryl pursed his lips but nodded, parting ways with the older man. He walked over to the cell that Hershel had pointed towards and stopped at the doorway, hesitating to make his presence known.

You had your back turned towards the door, hunched over as you inspected the leg of the bunk. You weren't aware of the archer that stood a few feet behind you, engrossed entirely in your own thoughts. That was, until he spoke up behind you.

“Hey. Hershel said ya needed help?”

You froze at the voice, willing the supposed hallucination away. You slowly rose to your feet and turned, locking eyes with the one person you've been searching for since the world went to hell—your boyfriend, Daryl Dixon.

The moment Daryl locked eyes with you, a whirlwind of emotions flooded his being. Relief, love, happiness, wonder, sadness, confusion and so much more that he couldn't decipher. Although his first instinct was to wrap you in his arms and never let go of you again, he hesitated, refusing to believe you were real. He took a step back, his eyes wide as he looked at you.

You stared back at him with equal amounts of disbelief. You took a hesitant step forward. “Daryl?” you whispered. The man in front of you looked slightly different; a little bit older and his hair was longer, but there was no mistaking it. The man in front of you was Daryl.

Daryl remained silent, his eyes locked on you as you continued to take agonizingly slow steps towards him. He watched as you stopped in front of him and hesitantly raised your hand, bringing it to rest on his cheek. Daryl instantly melted into your familiar soft touch, and that was all the confirmation he needed. Without another thought, he gently grabbed you and pulled you into his arms, tightly clinging to you as he pressed multiple kisses to the top of your head.

“Yer real,” he whispered, a laugh of amazement falling from his lips. “Yer real. Yer alive. Yer actually still alive.”

You laughed quietly against his chest as you held onto him tightly, never wanting to let go ever again. Your laughter soon turned into sobs, tears of relief and happiness falling from your eyes.

“I thought I'd never see you again,” you whispered through your tears, burying your face into his chest. “I thought you were dead, Dar.”

“'M here,” he whispered into your ear, a few tears of his own falling from his eyes. “'M alive. Yer alive. 'M never lettin' ya go ever again. 'M sorry I ever left tha' day in the first place.”

“It's okay. I'm sorry, too. I never should've asked you to cut Merle out of your life. He's your brother. It was unreasonable of me.”

“Nah, it wasn't,” he denied, placing another gentle kiss on the top of your head. “Ya were jus' lookin' out fer me. I never shoulda gotten mad at ya in the first place.”

“Let bygones be bygones?” you whispered against his chest.

Daryl chuckled before nodding. “Yeah, of course.”

The two of you held onto each other for a couple of moments longer until you pulled back. Daryl was about to voice his protest until you pressed your lips against his in an urgent kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms settled on your waist, pulling you closer into him as he kissed you back. There was no lustful hunger behind the kiss—there was only love and longing, two broken parts finally reuniting and mending together as one.

Daryl pulled back and placed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. “I missed ya so much,” he whispered, willing the lump in his throat to go away.

“I missed you too. More than you even know,” you replied, cupping Daryl's cheek with one of your hands. “But I found you. I finally found you.”

Daryl leaned into your touch before turning his head to kiss the palm of your hand. However, he soon pulled away from you and strode over to your bag, slinging it over your shoulder.

“C'mon,” he said, taking your hand in his as he pulled you to walk beside him.

“Where are we going?” you questioned, falling into step beside the man you loved.

“There ain't no need fer ya to sleep in there. Yer gonna sleep with me in my cell,” Daryl said simply, pulling you along to his cell.

You giggled but said nothing, silently following him into his cell. When he placed your bags down on the floor, Daryl placed a soft kiss on your lips before stalking out of the cell.

“Where are you going?” you called after him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“'M gonna find tha' prick who objectified ya and teach him a lesson. Yer hot as fuck, yes, that much I can accept people sayin', but Ronnie implied he wanted to sleep with ya outrigh'. He's really gonna regret sayin' tha' in a few moments. Dun' even try to talk me outta it.”

“Hey, Dar?” you called after him, halting him in his tracks. “I love you.”

Daryl smiled at you. “I definitely love ya more.”

#krys writes .ೃ࿐ #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader

[headkiss]

ooh ooh okay, maybe in the single thread universe where either reader or steve has a nightmare about losing the other from the canon-type violence and it's like comfort. feel free to ignore if you don't like it, thank u and love u 🫶

hi my love thank u so much for this req i missed writing these two <3 i hope you like it!!! steve’s the one with the nightmare in this one | 0.6k hurt/comfort and fluff (this takes place in the single thread universe!)

Although you and Steve only live across the hall from each other, you split your time between the two apartments, though you’re rarely separated from each other when you can help it.

Nights are often spent at his place, him kissing you goodbye before slipping out the window and swinging off to his nightly patrol, you staying awake with a book in your lap until he comes home no matter how much he insists you get some sleep.

You fall asleep easier when he’s beside you, anyways. Where you can feel him, safe and breathing.

Tonight’s a little different. Steve slipped through the window quietly when he got back—uninjured, this time—from patrol. For once, you’d fallen asleep while he was out, though you tried not to, if the open book still on your lap says anything.

He shut the window and locked it, pulling his mask off and smiling at the sight of you amongst his sheets, like you’ve belonged there all along. Steve bookmarked your page before setting your book onto the nightstand that’s now been claimed as yours, shutting off the small lamp that sits there, too.

He showered and changed quickly, eager to lay down beside you and gather you up into his arms, your warmth surrounding him. He falls asleep with the smell of your shampoo filling his senses.

It’s also a little different because a couple of hours later, you’re woken up by Steve’s shout of your name, his chest heaving against your back. Frowning, you turn over, finding his eyes still shut but his eyebrows scrunched.

Nightmares aren’t new to either of you, you’ve had enough of them since being followed that one night after work, nightmares where Steve isn’t there to save you this time. It still hurts to see him go through one, though.

Pushing yourself up, you run one hand through his hair, the other squeezing his shoulder. “Steve, wake up.”

After a couple more tries, his eyes open quickly, darting around before landing on your face, on the worry he must find written there. “Honey,” he breathes. “Are you okay?”

It’s classic Steve that the first thing he’d be worried about is you, when he’s the one who’s just had a nightmare. You trail your hand down his arm to tangle your fingers together. “Don’t worry about me. You were having a nightmare.”

His eyes squeeze shut, like he’s remembering it all over again. “You were hurt and I couldn’t- nothing was working. I was too late.”

“Hey,” you cup his jaw with your free hand, making sure his gaze is on yours. “Look at me. I’m not hurt. Not one bit, okay?”

He nods his hand tightening in yours, his other one reaching to tug you closer, your legs tangling together. “I’m sorry for waking you.”

You think back to the day you first met him, when he’d carried your moving boxes for you like it was nothing. You hadn’t realized then just how much weight he really felt, a weight you now hope to help lift, if only a little.

Steve was afraid then, of getting too close to you, if possible putting you in danger. He’s still afraid of the latter now, but there was something inevitable about you two, he thinks. It must be why his heartbeat calms more and more the longer he lays there with you, the longer he looks at you.

“You don’t have to be sorry.” You smile what you hope is something reassuring, trying to ease his mind, lighten things, “besides, I fell asleep on you earlier. It’s only fair.”

Steve’s not sure how he got so lucky with you, your patience, your understanding about everything. He can’t believe that you just happened to move in. It feels much more like fate than anything else to him.

“Thank you for being here, honey.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

#single thread #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington blurbs #stevie blurbs #steve harrington request #steve harrington requests #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #spiderman!steve #steve harrington au #spidey!steve #stranger things #stranger things steve #steve harrington hurt/comfort #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington story #spiderman!steve harrington #steve stranger things #steve x reader

[busycloudy]

It Wasn't Fate

Tw: Angsty, although it is my first time writing like this

Reader is MC and is gender neutral. Cater and reader are ex's

HEAVILY inspired by this song:

(Maybe listen to it while reading)

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

It's now been 2 weeks since the two of you broke up. You stared at the ceiling thinking about it, the rain hitting the windows. You knew you should let it go, you knew that nothing could change what happened in the past, and you knew if you truly loved something you had to let it go. But, for some reason, you constantly thought about it. About everything you could've done better. Everything you did wrong. Constantly thinking the separation was your fault. You hated it so much. Grim and the Adeuce duo always tried to cheer you up, but even if you seemed happy again, there was something in your eyes. You didn't have the usual glint in your eyes. You wasn't yourself anymore.

Grim was bugging you about getting him some tuna so you got up from the couch and got a can of it. You opened the can and gave it to Grim, but then you heard a knock on the door. "Who could be out in this weather-" You opened the door and your eyes widened. At the door was Cater. He was sopping wet because of the rain. "Hey...Can I come in?" He asked. "Sure" You let him in and closed the door behind him. "Uh...Do you want anything? Tea or something?" You asked. He said he'd like some tea, and so you made him some. He mumbled a thanks and drank it. You looked at him, and you hated this. You hated how he came as soon as you were starting to get over it. You hated how heartbroken you felt. You hated all of this. "So, what are you doing here?" You put on a smile. "I was going to Heartslabyul, but then it started pouring, and this was the closest place." Cater said. "Would it be okay if I stayed for the night? It seems like the rain is just gonna get worse." He said. You wanted to tell him no. You wanted to tell him he can stay however long it takes to get his things and leave, but you didn't have the heart. "Sure" You smiled and got up to get a blanket and pillow so he can sleep on the couch. You came across something on the floor as you were getting the blankets. It was a phone case. The one Cater gave you when you two were together. It had the same pattern as Cater's did, except that it was your favorite color. You remembered when he gave it to you as a gift for tour 1st anniversary. The bright smile on his face. After the break up you immediately took it off your phone and threw it across the room. Sure, you might've overreacted, but could you really be blamed?

You eventually came back to him with the blankets and pillow. "Here you go" You gave him the items and took the tea cup to put it in the sink. It was still a bit if time before dark, so you stayed in the living room with him while scrolling on your phone. "Hey, MC, I just wanted to say thank you" He smiled at you. That smile reminded you of so much memories. When you two took a picture together. When you two went to a cafe together. When you two would goof off. You felt as if you were gonna cry. "It's no problem" You said with a tremble in your voice. You wished all your memories with him would go away. You wished this never happened. You knew in no universe would it have worked out with him. You couldn't be his friend nor lover. It wasn't fate that brought you two together like you used to say, no, you two met each other by pure coincidence.

#☁️cloudy writes #Angst #cater diamond #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #cater twisted wonderland

[intermundia]

I'm a different anon, but your answer to that person, about how we all have our own perspectives and such, got me curious if you wanted to talk about your favorite things about Anakin? I really like how he has this earnest passion in everything he says and does, no matter what the consequences are. He lets his instincts and heart influence what actions he takes. I think you could say the same about Obi-Wan too to a degree, but I think Obi-Wan errs to keeping his emotions/intentions concealed until he has the best advantage he can get. And I think that this sort of "two sides of the same coin" contrast between them is part of what makes the ship appealing. Anyway, yeah, I wanted to know what you enjoy about Anakin ^^ And that other anon too, if they want to send another ask about their feelings/thoughts

Oh man, what a question. You've activated my trap card. Anakin Skywalker is possibly my favorite character of all time. It's endlessly fascinating to read stories about him, and writing him allows me to articulate the messy, painful, thwarted parts of myself. He's half my brain, and Obi-Wan is the other half, and resolving their differences brings me deep catharsis.

Everything you said about him is so true, his earnest passion is so deeply appealing. Obi-Wan called him passionate, fearless, forthright, and he is the embodiment of those traits, but he's flawed too, and flawed in ways I feel in my bones, and regrets the same things that I regret. He's so beautiful and so damned, a fallen and risen angel, you know?

Stover wrote that the brightest light casts the darkest shadow. He ends up at just the nadir of cruelty and violence, but he begins from a place of pure generosity and light. His intentions were so good, and he was so impossibly brave. It seems like arrogance, that cocky assurance of what he was capable of, but the universe bends around him to fit his will.

He's more than human, he's half-divine, a mirror and barometer of the entire galaxy's mood. His life is coextensive with the rise and fall of an empire, his personal tragedy from greed is both archetypal and relatable, and he is the scaffolding the narrative rests inside. Luke is the hero of the story but Anakin is the embodiment of the world he strives against.

He is painfully earnest and a liar, a villain and a victim, naive and jaded, brilliant but foolish, perfect and deeply flawed. It's so easy for me to understand why he was so beloved. He's absolutely the other side of Obi-Wan's coin, the heart to Obi-Wan's head, the passion to his reason, the instinct to his experience. The Team together is one complete and fully realized being, separation means incompleteness and disaster.

Vader is just one of the most iconic villains of all time, and Lucas defied all expectations in the prequels. He used his character to tell a cautionary tale about greed rather than give excuses for why he became such a monster. He is intentionally shown to be so generous and kind as a boy, handsome and daring as a man, with infinite wasted potential for good, it's incredible.

Idk man, I like him and I love him, I hate him and I want him; he's one of the best characters of the modern age.

#anakin skywalker #darth vader #long post #sorry #i really do mean trap card #hayden is also gorgeous. that is part of it. but it will keep my extolling of his physical virtues to dirty fanfic lol #sw

[bosbas]

Chapter 8: no one wanted to play with me as a little kid

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 3.4k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love (sort of. it's like pre idiots in love. on the cusp of idiots in love), fluff (so much fluff)

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

A/N: you know what. let's pretend all of the ages/years make sense. kisses to all of you!

December 4, 1809 - Dearest, loveliest, most wonderful Y/I (your initial),

I am so sorry I have not written in almost two weeks, though I did enjoy the very strongly worded letter you sent me reminding me of this fact and demanding a response. I wish I had a better excuse, but truthfully, this term has just been hectic. But to answer the question you so politely asked: yes, I will be home in time for Christmas, and I will be staying for New Year's and your birthday (your birthday is not even two weeks after Christmas, darling, give me some credit!). Though I rather think you owe me a present instead of the other way around after calling me an oblivious toad.

As an apology for my silence, I've attached my reading list for the courses I am taking at Oxford this term so you can also read them. I am sure you will be able to find them in your library but do let my mother know if you cannot find them. We should also have copies in our library. I will be heading back to Aubrey Hall in ten days to see the lot of you, and I will eagerly be awaiting all of your thoughts on this term's reading.

Yours, B

You couldn't help the excited gasp that left your lips as soon as you were finished reading Benedict's letter. You hadn't even managed to leave your entryway before you hastily opened the envelope addressed to you, blurting out a thank you to your slightly startled butler, who had been taken aback by your eager rifling of the mail. 

Now that Benedict was at Oxford, you barely got to see him at all, so you were more than a little excited when you read that you would only have to wait ten more days to see him. The three weeks he was home for the winter holiday were the bulk of your in-person interactions with him for the year, as had been the norm for the past three years he had been at university. 

It wasn't all bad, though. Proof of that lay in a box in your bedroom filled with every single letter or note you had received from Benedict while he was away at Oxford. Even the short ones, when he was studying for an exam and barely had time to write a coherent response, had found a place inside your box. You supposed the box contained most of your friendship with Ben over the past three years, neatly organized by date from oldest to newest and separated by term. 

Sometimes, you found yourself missing Benedict more than usual, and you would read through your favorite of his letters. Often, it ended up being the shortest notes that were the sweetest and ones you would read over and over. Even years after he had sent the letters, you found comfort in his messy scrawl after an afternoon playing Pall Mall without Benedict and his typical banter. But once you saw him at Aubrey Hall every December, it would be like no time had passed at all. You kept him up to date on everything happening at home with your family and his, and he told you wild stories from his time at Oxford. 

And although you enjoyed hearing about his life, it was also bittersweet. You were so jealous of him, wishing more than anything that you could go to university, too. But alas, the pesky issue of your gender prevented you from furthering your education. You got as close as you could, though. Benedict would send you all of his readings every term, and you enjoyed discussing the books you read at length when he returned for the holiday season. 

This is not to say that your conversations about literature and art were limited to your in-person time. In fact, most of your correspondence was about the books you were reading or the galleries you had gone to. Ben could spend pages and pages talking about a particular part of a painting, the way the artist had captured the way light filtered through the trees. And you loved every bit of it, engaging in your usual discussions. In a way, if you ignored how much you missed him, it was lovely to have a physical representation of your friendship. 

However, you would soon stop being constrained to receiving correspondence from Ben every few days, and you could simply knock on his door if you were particularly interested in talking about an aspect of your book. Your time at Aubrey Hall had become your favorite time of year, three weeks of daily interactions with your best friend being the absolute best birthday present you could've ever asked for. 

But this year was different. This was the last time you would have to say goodbye at the end of the holidays, seeing as Benedict was graduating in the spring and returning from Oxford permanently. To say you were over the moon was an understatement. You could barely wait to spend hours in his studio watching him paint again or reading aloud to him under the shade of the tree in your backyard on particularly warm days. 

---

August 12, 1799 - Y/I, I thought you would like this one. Yours, B

Bypassing Alex and Anthony having a heated debate about who was better at billiards, Benedict headed straight in your direction across the garden, ignoring Daphne, Colin, Theo, and Bastian, who had been playing some team game that devolved into an argument. Benedict patted your head as he came by to sit beside you on the grass, momentarily drawing your attention away from the massive book on your lap.

Grabbing the book from your lap and transferring it to his own, he asked, "So, what do you think?"

You let out an excited squeal, shaking Benedict's nearest arm with both hands. "It's amazing, Ben! An entire book about flowers, who knew? I've spent hours looking at it already, and I'm not even halfway through! It's got so much information I could die. It's incredible. Thank you so much." Though it was left unsaid, Ben knew these were hours you would have otherwise spent alone. The twins were especially adamant about not having you play with them, and Alex and Anthony were too caught up in their never-ending competitions to pay any attention to you. With your mother and his being occupied with the toddlers, Francesca, Cass, and Eloise, who had only just begun to walk and talk, you and Ben were truly the only odd ones out. But it was no bother to him. He loved when you read aloud to him, and you would happily listen to him talk about his sketches for hours on end, something he could not say about any other member of the Bridgerton-Beaumont cohort. 

Ben could only laugh fondly at your excitement, internally very proud that he had found a book you really enjoyed. "It's called an encyclopedia. There are loads of them about just about anything and everything in the world," he told you, leafing through the book himself. Gently pushing the book back in your direction, he prodded, "Well, go on then. Show me your favorite flowers so far." 

Grabbing the book, you hastily turned the pages until you reached the flowers, starting with the letter 'd.' Standing up, you rushed to the nearest corner of the garden and dug around for a few seconds, coming back with a bunch of small white flowers clutched in your small hands. 

Ben let out a short laugh, but you quickly shushed him, whining, "Stop it! It'll make sense in a second, I promise."

"I didn't say anything!" responded Ben defensively, putting his hands up in the air but unable to conceal the smile you had elicited from him. 

"Okay. Look at the page. The daisies. They're also called Bellis perennis, but that's in Latin. We have them here in the garden! Isn't that lovely?" you said excitedly, placing the flowers beside Ben.

"Oh, that is quite nice, Y/N," he responded, picking one of the daisies up and placing it behind your ear, eliciting a bright smile from you. "Did you know that a Violet is a type of flower? And so is a Primrose."

"You mean both our mums have flower names? That's so fun. I wish everyone could have a flower name," you responded, excited to have learned new information. 

"You could always give your daughters flower names," Ben suggested, enjoying the pure joy you were getting out of this.

"Well, before I have daughters, I would have to get married. And I don't want to do that! I just want to keep reading books. I want to read every single encyclopedia in the world!" you exclaimed, reaching your arms as high as they could go. 

Ben laughed, highly amused by your antics. "Just like me, then. Except instead of reading it's painting," he responded as he laid down fully on the grass, looking up at the sky and feeling particularly thankful that someone understood how he felt. On the other hand, you took the opportunity to dump all of the flowers you had picked onto his torso, arranging and rearranging them into different designs. He could only laugh, not at all bothered that his shirt would surely be dirty now, just happy to watch you enjoy yourself. 

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, you spoke up as you tried unsuccessfully to stack the flowers on top of each other. "That's perfect, then. We can get married, I can read, and you can paint, and we can have a daughter and give her a flower name."

"That sounds wonderful! I'm glad that's sorted," he laughed, lifting his head to find you flashing a toothy grin. "D'you like the name Daisy for our daughter, then?"

"That's lovely! And you can paint her a painting of a daisy for her room!" you responded eagerly. Benedict hummed in assent, busy imagining the dynamics of a blissful imaginary marriage. 

---

January 3, 1810 - Y/I, Happiest of birthdays, darling. Come downstairs, where I have a proper gift and card waiting for you. Yours, B

As you came downstairs, you already feared the fate that awaited you. Every year, your birthday would begin with a very extreme and frankly excessive snowball fight involving all the Bridgerton-Beaumont children. You could trust no one. Alliances would easily crumble under pressure, and people were just as likely to betray their siblings as they would someone from the other family. You and Benedict, ordinarily inseparable, could become sworn enemies in the span of two snowballs. You couldn't even trust sweet Hyacinth, only seven years old, to be loyal to any team, seeing as she was an outstanding double agent, a lesson you had all learned the hard way. It was absolute chaos, and you loved every second of it. It didn't matter how old you were; this was always the best part of your birthday.

As soon as you stepped outside, a snowball the size of your fist hit your right shoulder. Slowly turning toward the perpetrator, you narrowed your eyes once you saw it was Gregory, who had helped you defeat Bastian and Francesca in one fell swoop last year. Clearly, that alliance was gone, and you would have to find someone else to rely on this year. 

Since it was your birthday, the fight officially started when you threw the first snowball, and this year, you chose to throw it at Cassandra, your own sister, who had annoyed you at dinner yesterday by incessantly flinging peas at you. Once the tightly packed ball left your hand, all hell broke loose. You were hit in the stomach and leg simultaneously as you fired snowballs in every direction you could, laughing as you did. 

You briefly ducked behind a tree trunk, needing a moment to breathe. You took advantage of the fact that you weren't a target to form a massive snowball. You carefully stepped away from behind the trunk, checking that the coast was clear. Without a second thought, you flung the snowball as hard as you could in the direction of the person closest to you. 

Unfortunately, it hit Benedict straight in the face, blinding him for a few moments. Your mouth hung open, trying not to laugh because you knew you had packed quite a bit of force into your throw. You ran to Ben's side, apologizing as much as possible without bursting into laughter. He cleared the snow from his eyes and turned to you slowly, an evil grin forming on his face. 

"I believe you have just declared war, Miss Beaumont," he said finally. 

You screamed and ran in the opposite direction, knowing he would be absolutely merciless. You couldn't even look back, not wanting to slow down. After a few seconds of frantic sprinting, you felt Ben tackling you onto a massive pile of snow. Both of you were laughing hysterically while trying to catch your breath. He turned you over so you were lying down side by side, both of you panting heavily, looking up at the winter sky. 

"I miss you," you said finally, turning your head toward him, only to find that he was already looking at you. He pulled you closer, wrapping both arms around you tightly before he helped you up and brushed the snow off of your coat. 

"I know. I miss you, too. But it'll only be like this for a short while longer, and then you can come round every day and read to me while I paint, yeah?" he said, lifting your chin to look at him. 

Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt your heartbeat quicken, his brown eyes not letting yours go. Your eyes flickered to his mouth briefly, your lips parting slightly. Looking back at his eyes, you saw something flash in them that you couldn't quite parse, an expression you hadn't seen before. Finally, you nodded, letting him pull you into him and kiss your forehead, enjoying the warmth and comfort you felt as you were wrapped tightly in his arms.

---

September 17, 1805 - Y/I, I can't believe you had a book about the exact artist I was talking about! I'll pop by yours later to say a proper thank you. Yours, B

Benedict walked into your sitting room, sprawling on the couch before you with his arm behind his head, silently waiting for you to look up from your book. But you had just gotten to an exciting part, and your eyes remained glued to the page, ignoring your best friend's attempt to get your attention. 

You heard him huff and muttered a soft "Just a second, Ben" as your eyes raced across the page, eager to know what happened next. In response, he slid further down the couch and crossed his arms, eliciting a laugh from you and finally drawing you away from your book. 

"You were barely waiting ten seconds, Benedict!" you exclaimed, secretly pleased he was so eager to see you. He was leaving for Oxford in a few weeks, and although you were trying not to think about the reality of him going, you were acutely aware that you would soon be unable to see him every day.

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, responding with a teasing, "It felt like ten years!" 

In recent months, the two of you had become inseparable. Your days were spent reading next to him as he painted, listening to him talk about his most recent artworks, or going for nature walks if you found yourself in Aubrey Hall. Anything to keep him close by before he left for Oxford, you reasoned. Though you couldn't help the growing affection, you were feeling, finding it impossible to look away when he tousled his hair just so and being a bit too pleased every time he complimented you. Every handsome smile or cheeky wink he sent your way lit you up inside, melting your heart just a little bit.

The problem was, and of course, there was a problem, that Benedict was always like this. Nothing about his demeanor had changed; your friendship was still the same as it had always been. Except now you found yourself spending a little too much time in the mornings making sure your hair looked good in case he popped by unannounced. Regardless, you knew Ben did not reciprocate your affections, so you tried to ignore these feelings as best as you could, folding them up very small and tucking them neatly in the corner of your heart for later examination.

Now, you found yourself on a couch against a wall of Benedict's studio, reading Romeo and Juliet as he was quietly sketching. This was quite possibly your favorite thing to do. Spend quiet afternoons together, reading and painting, enjoying each other's company. You took a moment to look at him as he scrunched his nose, unhappy with a certain aspect of the sketch. 

He sighed and looked up at you, nodding toward your book. "What has Shakespeare got to say today?"

"That marriage is a death sentence," you replied, voice deadpan. 

Ben burst into laughter. "Oh, come off it. It can't be that bad in real life. That's only a play! Besides, you've still got a while before you have to think about that," he tried to reason with you.

"Well, maybe. But it just sounds so unappealing. I want to do this. What we're doing now. I want to keep doing it. I don't want to be a wife! I just want to read and study," you argued. 

Benedict stood up, coming to sit beside you and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I know, darling. I'm sorry," but he knew you had more to say.

You groaned, pushing your forehead into his shoulder. "I just don't think I'll ever be happy if I'm forced to marry. And I most likely will be, knowing my mother. She'd rather die than have one of her daughters turn into a spinster," you huffed, missing the sympathetic look you got from Ben. "And who will my husband be? A clueless man with no interest in me beyond my ability to be a good wife? I cannot imagine a worse fate."

---

May 8, 1810 - Y/I, I'll keep this one short, seeing how I'll be properly back in a few days! I've been quite busy with graduation, but I'm excited to come home. Yours, B

You smiled as you placed the last letter you had received from Benedict back in your box. The collection was complete. Three years of correspondence between the two of you finally come to an end. You carefully closed the box and returned downstairs, where a big family gathering was occurring in the garden. 

As soon as you stepped outside, Ben was at your side, chatting your ear off about one thing or another. He had barely left you alone since he had been back, granting you only a few minutes to yourself, but you couldn't complain. You wrapped an arm around his torso as you walked back to the garden table. 

"Oh, you look so darling!" cried Violet, cooing at the two of you. 

"You're proper adults now! Both of you! How the time has passed," your mother added, reaching out to hold Violet's hand. 

Benedict could only smile, too happy to be back at your side to focus on anything else. He had missed you loads while he was at Oxford, but having your arm around him now, he realized just how much he needed you. Ben placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, unable to help himself as you sat down at the table. He sat right next to you, taking one of your hands into his own so he could play with your fingers as you chatted with Primrose and Violet. 

Oxford had been a riot, to be sure, but he was so glad to come home to you.

—

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#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton fanfic #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton angst #benedict bridgerton x best friend!reader #bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x you #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton angst #love in bloom #love in bloom: writing

[moethewriter]

could you do number 27 with finnick from the otp prompt list? i love yours fics!

Of course I can anon! Super excited for this one, I had the best time writing it! Lot's of angst and fluff! TITLE: The Light In The Dark WORD COUNT: 1.5k PAIRING: Finnick Odair x Reader WARNING: None! TAGS: Lot's of angst, and fluff! (As always please let me know if you think anything needs to be added) lot's of introspection and reflection from the reader! A/N: I was so so so excited to write this one! And I think it's such an amazing prompt! Thank you so much for requesting it and as always I take constructive criticism! -

District 13 was not a place you particularly enjoyed. It was safe, and secure and far better than being stranded in an arena forced to kill other people. But you weren’t as content as you had hoped you would be. When you were rescued along with everyone the rebellion scooped up, you had kept telling yourself that everything was going to be okay. You had to keep faith that whatever the next step was, was going to end all of it. 

Finnick had been rescued alongside you, and he offered a comforting ear. It was so strange being close to him again. It had been a year since you two had broken up, and though it had seemed like yesterday, you were no longer the same people you once were. So much had changed, you had changed. 

Though you knew once you both had been reaped that you were going to ally yourself with him. There really was no one else you would rather have at your side. Despite the separation, he had you trust and you knew he was far more capable than a lot of people gave him credit for. 

There had been tension between the group, that you knew, no one got along well unless it was with Mags. You knew the other’s could sense a different type of tension between you and Finnick, one filled with unresolved feelings bubbling below the surface. It had only gotten worse after you heard his voice through the jabberjays.

Johanna had tried to talk to you afterwards, even sent Katniss your way but you wouldn’t budge. You didn’t need to have a friendship circle and talk about how you longed for Finnick and how he still had your heart. No one needed to know that but you, though you sensed Johanna had always known, she had known you better than you knew yourself most days. 

There had been no major fallout with Finnick, no giant blow up that ended in destruction and despair. It had been so amicable … you had both been so busy, the life of a Victor always was. Not to mention the separation by District had been a struggle. You had been the one to bring it up, despite the pain it caused you. Finnick had agreed with you the moment you finished speaking. You hugged, and he left and then you stood there alone. You were both heartbroken over it, that much you knew. 

You had cried for weeks after it, though you felt you had no right to do that. No one was able to console you, despite Johanna trying her very best too. You knew she wasn’t the best with comforting people, she had grown colder after what had happened to her family, but you appreciated the effort she had put in. Seeing Finnick on TV doing interviews, going to parties and generally being in the Capitol had upset you the most. It was hard to look at him, you knew he was hurting so much more than anyone could tell. You wanted to reach out, but you knew it would have been a bad idea. So you stayed silent and watched him from afar, and kept your thoughts about him to yourself.

Though you hoped he thought of you too.

And in a blink of an eye, months had passed. You had both been mentors for the 74th hunger games, though to no avail as your tributes had passed in the arena. You didn’t speak to him much, and he did his best to avoid you. It was strange but you knew he was coping in a far different way then you were, so you couldn’t blame him,

The universe was funny though, bringing you both together again under far different circumstances. He had come to your door days after you had been reaped for The Quarter Quell to form an alliance with you, and you were both informed together about the rebellion by Haymitch Abernathy. You were hesitant but agreed to help, as long as Finnick was there too. There wasn’t anyone else you’d want as an ally in those games. Some small part of you was thankful that he had been there.

“Penny for your thoughts.” A familiar voice broke through the jumbled mess of memories you had been reliving. “Not much in there right now.” You chuckled, turning to meet Finnick’s gaze, he seemed relaxed, and adjusting far better than most people. “Just wondering about what the next step is, thinking about all that needs to be done.” The lie came easily to you, but you knew he could see right through it. He had always been able to see past you.

“That’s not the Y/N I know.” Finnick smiled, leaning against the wall. He looked like an angel in white against the steele gray. “The one I know is simply far too deep in thought about too many things that they’re overwhelming themselves with it. Am I wrong?” He raised a knowing eyebrow. 

“You know me far too well, Finnick Odair.” You snorted, crossing your arms in defeat “I was thinking about the past.” You said, quietly, almost hoping he wouldn’t catch what you said at all.

“About us?” He questioned, a strange look crossing his face.

You couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking at that moment, but you knew there was no point in lying. You didn’t want to lie to him anymore.

“You could say that.” You nodded.

“I hope it’s all good memories.” He said, meeting your eyes once more. “I know I still think of those on my dark days.” He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“You were one of the best things that ever happened to me.” You told him, earnestly. “I loved you more than life itself.”

“So you don’t  regret it at all?” Finnick questioned, and you weren’t quite sure if he wanted your answer by the way his voice quivered.

“No. Not one bit.” You told him. “I don’t regret having you because you made the sun shine brighter and you made my life worth living again. You put a smile on my face anytime I wasn’t feeling myself. You were the only one who loved me when I thought I couldn’t be loved. You changed me for the better in so many ways. You were, and always have been a star amongst the darkest of skies, Finnick. That little light that kept going even though the world tried to beat it down. You have always been one of a kind. I could never regret you. I would never regret a single thing because if I didn’t have you forever at least I had you at all.” Your voice was thick with emotion, finally saying all of this to him.

You had bottled it up for so long, kept it so tight to your chest that you felt like you were going to explode into a million tiny little pieces. You knew you would always love him, but a second chance at loving him had seemed impossible.

“I don’t regret breaking things off either.” You told him. “It was the best thing we could do for both of us at the time. You and I both know that.”

“I know.” Finnick nodded, a sad smile crossing his face. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t cry for weeks after it happened though. I missed you severely during those first few months. I’m sorry I never reached out, I wanted to but I didn’t know how.” 

You could see him fidgeting with his thumbs, something he only did when he was nervous, it was a quirk you thought had been adorable when you first noticed it. He had an anxious energy to him that could be hard to spot if you didn’t know him.

“It’s okay.” You whispered, sniffling a little. “That wasn’t your job anymore to be there for me.”

“You were never a job, I loved … love you and I always wanted to be there for you even when we were over.” Finnick said. “You’re the love of my life, you always have been, Y/N.”

“I’m still the love of your life?” You asked, wiping the stray tear from your eye.

Nothing could have prepared you for this conversation, but you were glad that you could air everything out. There was no one else for you but Finnick. You loved him, and you still wanted to be with him. He was the first person you thought about in the morning, and the last person you thought about before you slept. He was still the love of your life too. 

He was always with you, even when he wasn’t.

“Yeah.” He said finally. “I don’t think there’s anyone else for me.”

You made a tentative step towards him, and wrapped your arms around his neck. He was tense, you could feel that, but that didn’t stop him from wrapping his arms around your waist. He was warm, he’d always been built like a furnace in contrast to your cold body temperature but you two still fit together perfectly, like two halves of a whole.

It’s like you were always meant to be in his arms.

“I still love you too.” You told him, letting yourself get lost in his arms.

“When this is all over …” He whispered into your ear. “I’m going to take you on the best date in the world, got it?” 

You could hear the smile in his voice.

“Got it.” You said, hugging him tighter.

#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #the hunger games #hunger games #angst #fluff #writing #moeswriting

[justasimp1]

Hii first i wanna say your writing is amazing! i am not sure if you are taking requests right now but if (when) you do, what about reader and Five working in comission together, have a mission where they have to pretend they're a couple (love the fake dating troupe xD), sexual tension building up and things get heated by the end? if you still do smut ofc! Have a great day :)

Five Hargreeves x F! Reader

I love this idea! Smut, Fluff, Fake Dating

Important Information: Five and the reader are both over 18 years old. This is a separate universe from TUA! If you like this AU then try reading this....

Task Finder

You wanted to murder the Handler–like jump over the glass desk and wrap your hands around her throat, squeezing them down. You imagined her esophagus twitching underneath your palm, a smirk lifting your lips, the weak slaps to push your hands away, the life leaving her-

"You can leave now" The Handler's words snapped you out of your murderous gaze. Five began to stride to the door. However, your feet reluctantly stayed in place.

"No, hell no, fuck no, I won't, I can't" Your words didn't seem to faze her. She shrugged, looking back at the door. You thought about getting on your knees and begging but remembered Five was still in the room. "He can just kill them!" You crossed your arms, a small pout tugging at your bottom lip.

"You're doing the task, no exceptions. Now leave!" The Handler closed her eyes, ignoring your previous question.

You didn't want to act like a bratty child but fuck you wanted to throw a mini tantrum in the bathroom. Five's eyes kept side-eyeing you, his lips were pressed in a thin line, his jaw tense. Going on a mission with Five...cool. Going on a mission with Five and having to fake date?! Everything would've been fine if you didn't have a burning infatuation for him.

"Is working with me that bad?" He made a snarky grin but his voice sounded hurt. You looked up at the fluorescent office lights, shaking your head.

"No, it's just because we're friends and we have to pretend to date for the whole day" You pinched your temples, thinking about forced kisses, subtle touches, and eye contact.

"Don't worry too much about it, darling" He put on this fake charming voice, looping an arm around your shoulders. You grimaced pushing him away.

"What's wrong, baby?" He squeezed your cheeks together, making your lips inflate. You stopped walking down the hallway, trying to avert your gaze somewhere else. But the proximity between you two made you pear up at him through your eyelashes.

"Can you stop with the pet names?" You let out a stifled chuckle, your words muffled by your plush lips. Five smiled, his tongue darting out on his lips, he leaned in closer to the point where you could smell his expensive cologne. It wasn't strong but it made your mind go hazy.

You gulped, fingernails digging into your sweaty palm. "We need to practice" His voice warmed your lips. You couldn't tell if he was talking about the pet names or closing the distance between you two. You slightly leaned up, only a few centimeters, testing the waters.

His thumb crossed your bottom lip, pressing it down. His cocky response was caught in his throat. And so was yours. Still, you managed to mumble a quiet "Five"

Time was moving too slow, his lips ghosted yours before he clicked his tongue, letting you go. He continued his walk towards the elevator at the end of the hall. "Let's go" He snickered. You blinked rapidly, trying to process what happened.

"Right..." You whispered underneath your uneven breathing.

________________________

"4'o'clock" Five pulled you closer. You looked to the right, scanning for a man with a brown slick back and a curled mustache. You squeezed Five's arm, as the man walked over to you. "I'm right here, stay calm" His thumb rubbed circles into your exposed skin.

"Are you enjoying the party?" His voice was rusty and slurred. Alcohol coming from his body.

"Yes, thank you for inviting us, Mr. Houghton" You smiled, unconsciously leaning into Five. "I and my husband were interested in your private collection" When you finished your sentence his eyes darkened and the foolish beer emotions disappeared.

"Are you cops?" He let out an obnoxious laugh, looking at your expression for hesitation. His hand went to touch your arm. You allowed him, forcing another smile.

"Never in my 38 years of living, I ever thought of being one of those hooligans" You laughed, biting at the inside of your cheek. Five bit back a laugh when he heard your fake age and minor accent.

"You seem very curious for a woman. My private collection is more of a man's thing, eh?" Mr. Houghton gestured towards Five, waiting for an agreed hum. Five's arm rested at your waist, if he could pull you any closer he 100% would.

You took in a sharp inhale, your brain rebooting. Mr. Houghton seemed to notice, his eyebrows arching at the awkward PDA. "How long have you been married?" Shit, he was quizzing you. You prayed that you or Five wouldn't slip up.

"10 long happy years" Five lifted your hand to his mouth, his lips pressing against the silver band around your finger. You looked at his action, the temperature of your cheeks rising. A faint rosy tint covered his cheeks also.

Only if he knew...

" I couldn't even stand the first one" Mr. Houghton let out a loud laugh, putting a hand on his abdomen.

Five grimaced, intertwined your hands, rubbing small circles on the back of your hand. "Well, I married her for a reason: I love her" Five leaned down pressing a kiss on your forehead. For a second, you imagined a scenario if you were married, him whispering corny sweet nothings late at night, subtle glances, him taking special days off at the commission just to spend time with you.

"Any children?" He queried, the space between his eyebrows creasing in disgust.

You bit the corner of your lip, a little excited to learn if Five would ever think about having children. However, he was glancing at you like it was your choice to make. "Not yet. We want to enjoy the silence a bit longer" You wondered what Five would name his kids, maybe something unique but not too extreme.

"What's her favorite flower?" The questions started getting more personal. Shit. You thought about different flowers, hoping to telepathically send your true answer to Five.

"Magnolia, I got her a bouquet on her birthday" Five spoke without missing a beat. And that had to be the truest thing he's uttered since the shenanigan started. He gave you a bouquet of Magnolia flowers on your birthday and after one whiff of the plant, you fell in love.

From then he got you those flowers often, gave you special scented perfume, and even planted a Magnolia tree in your backyard. That was around 3 years ago, you were surprised he even still remembered.

"Where did you meet?" His nose scrunched, his eyes narrowing at the small hint of standstill.

Fuck. You had been working in the commission with Five for whose knows how long. Yet, you guys didn't meet there, you met at a coffee shop- no an office- no a— "17 years old, at a funeral of a mutual friend" Five's eyes remained on Houghton, keeping a tight smile.

You squinted your eyes, thinking back to your teenage years. There was definitely a funeral but you don't remember Five being— oh shit he was right?! You were beyond flabbergasted, your memories were foggy but you could tell Five's face structure apart from any hazy person.

The elderly man hummed for a bit, sticking a piece of brown stiff tobacco inside his mouth. He chewed on it for a while, eyes scanning the ceiling. " I need new colleagues, anyways" Mr. Houghton's voice was laced with alcoholic venom. He trudged towards the opening leading outside of the gallery.

"Brace yourself, try to not think about killing him too soon" Five whispered. He seems to skip over your shocked expression. Nonetheless, he put his finger underneath your slack jaw, pushing it up, his thumb rubbed your lip as he did at the office.

"How...what the hell?" You were squeezing your eyes, hoping that he would transform into some type of cyborg. Your throat urged you to take a fresh breath of air.

"What can I say? You're hard to forget" His lips stayed parted like he wanted to say more. His eyes flickered towards your pressed mouth. You felt warm under him, like you would melt if his eyed you any longer. You wondered if he was able to see every insecurity from vision.

"Five" The words came out strained. You looked away, pushing his hand away, your heart filling your ears. Five murmured something incoherent, beginning to follow Houghton out of the room.

"Leave us" Mr. Houghton grumbled to the two bulky men standing in front of the burgundy door. The men scanned you like a fresh piece of meat. Five's hand twitched, reaching to grab your arm, he sent a glare at the nearest man. They huffed, taking heavy steps towards the unsupervised art gallery.

Houghton fiddled with a key, shoving it into the golden keyhole. When the door creaked open, he step aside, allowing you and Five to enter first. The room was small, with a chair in the middle of it and a large safe in front of it. Your hands balled into a tight fist when he closed the door.

He wobbled to the safe, twisting the lock several times. You slyly peered inside, seeing stacks of books, your stomach churned. "My newest edition" He let out a long groan, selecting the top book. He popped it open, holding it high so you both can see.

Multiple pictures of a tied-up woman (maybe even girls) were scattered across the page. Usually, bondage could have been a turn but there is no way these pictures were consented to. You gritted your teeth, hand rubbing the gun tucked under your dress.

Five beat you to it, removing his gun from the inside of your jacket, shooting him 4 times in his leg. He let out a scream, it echoing off the soundproof walls. You reached up the slit of your dress, snatching your gun. The barrel lined perfectly against Houghton's temple.

Five put the book back inside the safe along with a small shot glass of booze he's been hiding and several lit matches. The paper book covers caused a domino effect of flames. "NO!" Houghton choked out, his hand smearing his blood on the pant leg of his suit.

You removed the safety, teasingly dragging the head of the gun into his mouth. You cooed inside his ear, shoving the tough material down his throat. Five smirked in admiration and something more dark lurked beneath his pupils. "Crazy fucking cock-sucking whore" His filthy words were muffled by the gun.

You laughed holding back the hysteria before pulling the trigger. The sound blurred your ear drums, his body trashing came to a slow stop, and there was a thud as his head hit the floor. You stood up before the pool of blood could stain your skin.

You must've been staring at the lifeless body for too long because Five pulled you into him. He embraced you tightly, kissing your head. "He was a lunatic, you saved a lot of people" He sounded like he was trying to comfort you. You knew what he was saying was right but taking a life put pressure on your soul.

And Five knew this.

You looked up at him, batting your eyelashes. "You did so good" He rubbed your cheek, pulling your face up. You could taste his scent on your tongue. Your legs went weak while you strained yourself to hold back from smashing your lips on each other. The hand on your back was enough to make your mind go blank.

He was so close. A silent ache filled your lower abdomen. You gripped onto the front of his suit. He was lost in your eyes like there wasn't a decomposing body on the ground. Your lips were touching but neither of you dared to move.

Your mouth opened but you didn't say his name in a stern voice like usual. You just slowly breathed, relaxing in his touch. "We should go" His words tickled your face.

"Right..." You said however you made no move towards the door. Five gulped, like a character in a movie that knew staying in a particular situation would have bad consequences. If you pushed further, he would have no choice but to return the kiss. You thought about it for a while, basking in his stare.

Five wanted–no he needed you to say his name, stop him from doing something irreversible. His tongue swiped across bottom. It took a long time for you to realize this is Five, a commission's assassin, a cocky bastard, a teasing son-of-a-bitch-who-made-you-fall-in-love-too-early-in-your-life.

If you kissed him, he would laugh and act like you accidentally tripped on a rock. If you confessed to him, he would think you were drunk and mistaken him for your future husband.

You backed away, looking down at the rim of blood that had yet to reach your heels. You hurried out of the room, not waiting for Five to catch up. Rich people were still talking with soft classical music. You lifted the slit of your dress and grabbed the car keys, that were stuffed inside your garter belt.

The wind was icy, making you shiver, and the ruffles of your dress sway in the wind. Five walked out of the doors, his eyes burning holes at the back of your head. In your peripheral, his face was contorted in confusion.

You snorted under your breath, clicking the lock button on the car key, faint beeps came from the middle of the crowded parking lot. You wondered aimlessly towards Five's black car. "Are you driving?" You jiggled the keys at him.

"Y/N." He deadpanned, the rest of the sentence dying on his tongue.

"I kind of wanted to doze off in the back or something..." You hummed, unlocking the car, and opening the back seat door.

"Y/N-" You closed the door, his grumbling still seeped into the cracks of the car door. You tossed the keys in the front seat before laying down, exhaustion taking over your body.

Five's footsteps faltered, turning back around. He swung open the door, almost sitting on your legs if you didn't move them fast enough. He slammed the door shut, turning towards you. You sighed, scooting to make more room. Five didn't get the memo because his body hovered over you, hand moving up your leg to your waist, and he pulled you back down.

He was acting on some rapid impulse.

"Five?" You swallowed your confusion, looking at him almost connecting your lips, your hands helplessly by your side. He shook his head, throwing out apologies, his hand running threw his hair. You absentmindedly reached for his suit jacket again, tugging him back down.

It was contradicting your recent statement but it was worth it even if Five wouldn't acknowledge your stupid crush on him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in. He kissed like a starved animal, desperately scraping at your rising dress. His tongue poking around your mouth.

His teeth clashed with yours, heavy pants leaving your mouth. It made your insides clench around nothing when he pressed his hard groin into yours. His brown hair was making a small curtain around you two. His breath smelt like mint and expensive champagne.

Your fingernails dug into his scalp, quiet moans of his name leaving your lips. "Five" His lips moved messily on your lips, jaw, and neck. His fingers slid up your stockings, to your thin black undergarments. He found the oval-shaped damp spot and applied pressure to his rubbing.

You arched your back, fingers clawing for something to grasp. "You're driving me crazy" Five strained, his fingers pushing your panties to the side, his thick fingers dipping inside your hole. "Saying my..." He let out a guttural groan "Fuck—saying my name like that"

You felt like just the width of his fingers would tear you apart, he made strong efforts to pump his fingers back and forth. Your eyes fluttered shut, your tongue running dry. "Five...please" Bolts were forming at the base of your veins. Heart pulsing along with your hole.

Five hissed, bowing his head. He pulled out his fingers to palm his growing erection. He made lazy kisses on your breast, sucking at your clothed nipples. You squirmed, feeling wetness coat your inner thigh. "Can I?" His voice was hoarse but he managed to say it gently.

You waited for a moment, thinking about your angsty declaration. There was a part of you saying don't think anything of it, it's just a regular hookup. Then again you wanted to believe the soft look in his clouded eyes, the desperate holding back gaze. You wanted to believe that saying yes was going to lead to something worth more than car sex.

"Yes," The words were unsure of themselves. You tilted your head up, avoiding eye contact. Five took your hand, unhurriedly making you cup his sore boner. You swallowed the lump swelling in your throat, your finger tugged at his pants. Five allowed you to drag them down along with his boxers.

You peeked down, the tip of his hard cock was flushed red, the rest of the shaft leading to a darker tan. Your mouth watered at the sight of sticky precum building at the tip. You stretched your fingers to meet his girth, you stroked him softly, not wanting to hurt the fragile organ.

"Five...?" You continued moving your hand, gathering the slick from his tip.

"God–please" He whimpered, tossing his jacket off, and unfastening his tie. You wrapped your legs around his torso, bringing him closer. You moved your hand faster, pumping more of him. Your lips opened to speak but Five put a shaky finger over your mouth. "I'm going to cum if you keep talking"

You narrowed your eyes, hiding a laugh. You placed his cock near your entrance, rolling your hips so Five would get the none verbal message. He put a tense arm on the seat, and the spot to the right of your head dipped. You tried to move your eyes away from his face but fuck he was making your lungs stop functioning.

Your obscene thoughts were put to an end when he rammed his length inside you. You felt all the remaining air you had, leave your body. His grip on your hips was going to bruise. You couldn't form a complete thought before he started moving.

His cock was covered in your slick, a glistening ring forming at his base. He rutted into you with little concern with the force pushing the car. You felt your spirit rising from your body, your pounding heart canceling out the moans.

Fire was under your fingertips, shocks twirling in your stomach. You threw your head back, eyes losing their vision. "I need to feel you cum–on my cock" He muttered, regaining his composure. It all hit you like one wave.

Losing feeling in your muscles, a long whimper leaving your mouth, contractions erupting through your form, involuntary trembling circling your weak limbs. You sucked and pulled at Five's length, making him lean back, burying your hips into his.

He repeated your name along with frantic nonsense: "You are so perfect" "I've wanted to do this for so long" and "You feel so good inside". His hips stutter, making his nails dig into your hips. In the blink of an eye, he pulled out, spraying his cum on the inside of your thigh.

He twitched, massaging his dick, and more white beads dripped out. You tried to catch your breath in the steamy car. The smell of sex and cum filling your nostrils. Five wiped his semen off with his stranded jacket, tossing it back down again.

The weight of his body hovered over you again. He delicately pressed himself down, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. "You okay?" You wouldn't have noticed his calm words if you weren't paying attention to the awkward silence.

"Yeah...it was nice" You kept the smile to yourself, trying to get a peak of Five's face. He lifted, his face crinkled with a gasp.

"Well I thought it was breathtaking" He chuckled, seeing panic cross your face. Before you could take back your words, he pressed a kiss to your lips. You tried you move but your body was too tired.

"If we could do this again. I would marry you in a heartbeat" He mumbled, grinning.

Masterlist

#fanfic #x reader #fluff #smut #angst #fake dating #five hargreeves #five hargreeves fluff #five headcanons #five x reader #five hargreeves smut #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreaves x reader #adian Gallagher x reader #adian gallagher smut #umbrella academy fluff #umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #unbrella academy smut

[amhrosina]

Favorite Kind of Trouble (Matt Murdock x f!Reader x Frank Castle)

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAG LIST

A/N: Hiiiii! I feel like it’s been forever since I posted anything, but it’s only been a little over a week! While I battled writer’s block and also had one of the roughest weeks of my life, there was a resounding desire in my asks/replies for another poly!fic with Frank, reader, and Matt, and I finally got around to writing it today! I hope you enjoy it! Also a big shout out & thank you to my lovely beta reader @wheredidiputmyfish for being so great!

**This poly fic can be read separately from the others I’ve written, but at this point, they all take place in the same universe and are just glimpses into their relationship at different times, so if you like their dynamic, you can find links to the rest of the fics here or here!**

Summary: Frank and you get up to no good at a gala event, and Matt’s enhanced senses can’t help but focus on the pretty sounds you’re making from across the room. 

(Warnings: oh brother, smut, like pretty much all smut zero plot, somewhat dom!frank, somewhat sub!matt, switch!reader, semi-public fun!!!, fingering, dirty talk (frank mainly lmfao), blow job, choking, wholesome poly flirting, frank and matt think they’re unworthy of each other!!!, they’re all idiots in love) 

The gala had officially stretched into its fourth hour, and you couldn’t believe how incredibly unperturbed Matt looked as he politely chuckled at, yet another, bad joke told by the snobby businessman in the too-tight tux. You shifted in your seat, subtly stretching your legs towards Frank, who at least had the decency to look bored. Under the table, your left thigh brushed against his right, and his attention shifted to you as he cocked an eyebrow in your direction.

God, he was so pretty. You didn’t tell him enough, but every time Frank looked at you, even when you were out in public and he refused to let his guard down, the subtle softening of his eyes when they landed on you made him the prettiest goddamn man you’d ever met. You flicked your gaze across the table to Matt, who was putting on a good show and pretending to listen to a rather boring anecdote – the only man that rivaled Frank in the looks department – and they were both wound so tightly around your finger that you couldn’t imagine being happier with anyone else. 

Most of the public had no idea that you, Frank, and Matt were something of a trio. They didn’t even know Frank’s real name. To most people, and certainly to the prying eyes of the elites attending the gala, you and “Pete” were a wealthy, but private couple who knew Matt through connections in the art world. They had no idea that the three of you shared a bed, a home, a life together. As frustrating as it was to keep that part of his life a secret, Matt gladly played the part. They didn’t get to wake up wrapped in the arms of the people he loved, and that’s really what mattered to him, and that way, Frank could have the honor of staking his claim over you in public. It all worked out rather well, when he thought about it. 

Your gaze returned to Frank. Your eyes slowly followed the trail of buttons up his torso, over the bowtie at the base of his neck, attention snagging on his lips before finally meeting his intense stare. To others, Frank might look stoic, bored, and maybe even annoyed, but you saw the desire in his eyes, felt the way the muscles in his thighs flexed as he shifted in his seat. He wanted it too, even if he didn’t realize it yet.

The gleam in your eyes told him you were up to something, and even if he wasn’t able to read the mischief in your smirk, the subtle twist in Matt’s neck as his ears perked up told him everything he needed to know. Frank leaned closer to you, brushing your bare shoulder with his lips before whispering in your ear. 

“Spread your legs, sweetheart.”

Your breath hitched, and you nearly swore when his fingertips brushed over your bare knee. An innocent stroke of the hand from a caring lover. A simple, loving gesture between the mysterious couple that kept mostly to themselves at events like these. That’s what anyone who might be watching would assume, and you knew it. 

“What if someone sees?” You breathed in a hushed whisper, but your legs were already opening for him. The effect he had on you was maddening.

“No one can see us.” He assured you, promptly glancing around the room again to solidify his promise. His hand rubbed lazy circles on your thigh, fingertips barely ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh as he slowly made his way up your leg. 

“What if someone hears?” You eyed him warily, though the spark of desire had shot through you like a bullet the second he’d made contact with your skin. 

“If you’re worried about it, you’ll just have to stay extra quiet, sweetheart.” He lightly flicked your nose with his free hand, grinning as annoyance briefly crossed your face. “Besides, Red’s bored too. He’s probably harder than I am right now, wishing he could touch himself under the table like I’m about to do to you.”

The abrupt sound of Matt’s knee crashing against the underside of the table pulled your attention from Frank. The guests seated near him jumped as he fumbled to catch his wine glass before it tumbled to the floor. You bit your lip in an attempt to smother your giggle. For a moment, the room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Matt cleared his throat, apologizing under his breath as he took a hefty swig of his wine. As the conversations around the room picked back up, Matt glared in your direction. You looked back at Frank, who was smirking.

“Want to play a game, sweetheart?” He whispered, breath coasting over the curve of your ear. 

“Is it at poor Matty’s expense?” You cooed, spreading your legs wider as his fingertips grazed the lace of your underwear.

“Maybe.” He smirked, kissing the corner of your mouth. 

He shifted your underwear aside, and you had to take a deep breath so that you didn’t moan as the cool air kissed your wet cunt. Frank was normally a patient man when it came to coaxing an orgasm out of you, opting to draw out the experience so that you could enjoy it as much as possible, even if that meant teasing you for hours before finally giving in to your begs. But tonight, with his attention half on you and half on Matt, he had very little patience for games. Not that you were complaining. 

He slid a finger through your folds, relishing in the warmth and slickness he found there. You tensed in your seat, flicking your gaze to Matt, who looked like he was going to be sick. Frank’s warm breath heated your neck as he whispered against your skin.

“How long do you think Red will last like this?” He asked, eyes briefly flickering to Matt before returning to yours. He gently circled your clit, eyeing the heat that was crawling up your neck. “How long do you think he’ll be able to hear your pretty little moans before it becomes too much for him?”

Matt tugged at his bowtie, clearing his throat as sweat beaded on his forehead. The tension in the air was electric, and when he parted his lips, allowing the fullness of your desire to hit his senses, it nearly undid him. You were so wet around Frank’s fingers, and the sounds of your soft hums of pleasure combined with Frank’s teasing tone was enough to make him so hard that it ached. He tried and failed to divert his attention back to the conversation around him, only able to focus on your quiet sighs and Frank’s encouraging mumbles. 

“I know you can hear us, Red.” Frank teased, adding pressure to your clit. You gripped your seat with white knuckles, panting at the friction building in your core. “I couldn’t help myself. She looks,” he plunged an additional finger into your cunt for emphasis, “ravishing tonight.” 

Frank could feel how close you were, relished in the tightness of your cunt as it clenched around his fingers. Matt, he guessed, was not far behind you. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, fumbling with his glass as he tried to look interested in the story being told. 

“C’mon Red. You know it’s impolite for a man to cum before a lady.” He mumbled, breathing into your ear. His eyes flickered between you and Matt, and both of you looked like you were about to cry. Matt’s fingers tightened on the glass, and you clenched around him again. “Don’t you want to cum in her tight cunt later? Don’t you want to fuck your cum deep into her pretty pussy? She’s been such a good girl tonight. She deserves our cum, Red, don’t you think?” 

His vulgar words were your undoing. You wilted against his chest as your orgasm crashed through you, the throbbing pressure easing as he coaxed it out of you. You moaned as quietly as you could, muffled only by the fabric of Frank’s coat as you shuttered against him. Simultaneously, as you came around Frank’s fingers, Matt’s hand clenched around the wine glass so tightly that the glass cracked, and then shattered all over the table, spilling a red stain down the front of his pristine shirt.

The crowd around Matt shrieked, and Frank watched as he calmly excused himself from the table and hurried towards the bathroom. Guilt crashed through him, though he was sure Matt wouldn’t be upset about the shirt. He likely wouldn’t be upset about the small cuts in his hand either. Matt was forgiving like that. Frank didn’t feel like he deserved one bit of his kindness.

“Is she okay?” 

The voice drew him out of his thoughts, back into his body, which was half curled around you as you recovered from your intense orgasm. The stranger sitting diagonal from you and Frank eyed him warily.

“Too much,” you panted, excuse already on the tip of your tongue, “wine. I think I had too much wine, darling.”

You ungracefully attempted to stand, and Frank wondered how much of this was for show and which parts of it were genuine as you leaned into his arms for support. The shakiness in your legs was definitely real, he decided.

“I’m going to take her to the bathroom to sober up. Thank you.” He nodded at the man, who was already half engrossed in another conversation as he led you in the direction that Matt had come a few minutes earlier. As soon as the two of you were out of sight, you straightened, giggling at the show you’d had to put on. 

“I didn’t know I was dating an actress.” Frank grinned, rapping on the bathroom door with his knuckles.

“I didn’t know either.” You laughed again.

The door unlocked, and you and Frank covertly slid into the bathroom with Matt, who was a heated, panting mess against the tile of the walls. You could clearly see his desire tented in his pants, and you smirked at Frank in response.

“We did that.” You murmured, stepping closer to Matt’s whining figure. 

Frank hummed, reaching for Matt’s hand and inspecting the wounds inflicted by the wine glass. You paused, waiting for a signal from Frank that Matt was okay. Matt was so delirious and high on desire that you knew he could be bleeding out and would insist that he was okay. A slight nod of Frank’s head told you to continue.

You sank to your knees, quickly unbuckling Matt’s belt and pulling his cock free from his pants. Frank wrapped a hand around Matt’s throat, gently pressing him against the wall as you licked the underside of Matt’s cock. Matt whimpered, involuntarily bucking his hips in response.

“Be patient, Red,” Frank murmured, pressing a kiss onto Matt’s jaw, “We’ll take care of you.”

You wrapped your lips around Matt, bobbing up and down his length in a feverish haze. Matt was so worked up that you knew it wouldn’t take long to undo him. Matt tried and failed to keep his whimpers and groans quiet, and he was so loud at one point that Frank had to cover Matt’s mouth with his hand, smothering the noises he couldn’t help but make. 

You pushed yourself further down his length, opening your throat to him as you hurried your pace. Matt tensed, grabbing onto Frank’s arm as he let out a stunted groan. He grunted, and you felt thick spurts of cum make their way down your throat. You swallowed around him, grinning when he rested his head against the wall behind him, panting so hard that it sounded like he had just finished running a marathon. 

You stood, adjusting your dress as Matt’s consciousness finally returned to his body. He smirked as he adjusted his pants.

“You two are the worst kind of trouble.” 

“We're your favorite kind of trouble.” You corrected, chuckling and eyeing the stain that probably wouldn’t come out of Matt’s shirt no matter how hard you scrubbed it. “Sorry about your shirt.” 

“And your hand.” Frank added. Guilt flashed in his eyes, but it ebbed away as Matt kissed both of you deeply, hands gently cradling the two of you. Matt wouldn’t admit it so nonchalantly, but when he got the chance to hold both of you like this, he felt like he was holding his entire world in the palms of his hands. 

“I’m not upset. I love you. Both of you.”

Frank nodded, humming in acknowledgment, and you noted the way Matt’s jaw ticked. You knowingly squeezed his hand. Frank didn't believe he was worthy of anyone’s love, let alone Matty’s, and you and Matt both knew it. But it wasn’t the time or place for that conversation, and you had no doubt he would breach that topic of conversation later, when Frank’s guard wasn’t so high, and he was feeling comfortable and loved.

“Wanna get out of here?” Matt smiled, squeezing your hand.

“Lead the way, handsome.”

“Good. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.” 

You snorted with laughter as Frank ran a hand down his face. 

“That was the lamest thing you’ve ever said, Red. I’m embarrassed for you.” 

“I’ll make it up to you later.” Matt smirked.

“You promise?” Frank dared, arching an eyebrow.

“Trust me, Frankie. I promise.” 

Tag List:

@xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @mymamalife @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @fightmilk @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @merleisapartygod @babyslyth @legocity2 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @deliciousfestsalad @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @thatgirljayy @hiyabyeyababy @theesexystallion @scoliobean @myguiltypleasures21 @dnxgma @evyiione @megmastersgf @soft-emo-enby @purple-amaranthe @alina02 @thedevilwearsblack @violet-19999 @shoxji @layazul @lazyxsquirrel @honeysucklepotter @m0nster-fvcker @matthewmurdockswhore @infinityisbright @myguiltypleasures21 @thegirlwiththeeyes1297 @goddesspsyche @mxxnligxt @ladamari68 @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @xshewayout @blep--bloop @dreadfulxives18 @schneeflocky

#frank castle #matt murdock #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle smut #frank castle imagine #frank castle oneshot #frank castle x matt murdock #frank castle x reader x matt murdock #frank castle x matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock smut #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock oneshot #matt murdock x frank castle #matt murdock x reader x frank castle #matt murdock x frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader #daredevil #daredevil x reader #marvel #marvel smut #punisher smut #daredevil smut #requested #amhrosina

[theetherealbloom]

UNEVEN ODDS — CH. 2

Chapter Two: Roll Up Your Sleeves

Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold or will she be able to change what was already written?

Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Age-gap Romance, Violence, Angst, Fluff, Guns, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Swearing, Reader wants to sacrifice herself, Zombies, eventual SMUT, MY SCIENCE IS WONKY, probable plot holes, rusty writing

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: Holy shit there are so many of you sjdfhgsk AHHHH thank you so much for all the notes and comments, I appreciate it! Here’s a little bit of info for you to understand a little bit of my thought process. In my outline, the reader is an Enneagram Type 9: The Peacekeeper. (This helps me add a little bit of depth to you so I don’t feel entirely lost when writing) if she seems “passive” or “complacent” it’s cause she wants everything to go smoothly and be without conflict. I’d like to believe there’s a little part of us that prefer to avoid tension, due to the fear of loss and separation from the people or things you love. I’ll go a little bit more in-depth about this in the story as it progresses. Hope you enjoy!

Song: evermore (feat. bon iver) by Taylor Swift

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TLOU WORLD – 2023

BOSTON - NOON

You walk along the ruins of a long-abandoned Boston with an overpowering sense of dread. It feels like the build-up of a song in which you know the tune, the lyrics, and the beat. Strings of violins, drums, and bells ring and thump in your mind, unwanted and uncaring of how you feel. This curse of knowledge you never asked for but which you carry follows you as the four of you approach the Bostonian Museum. Creeper vines and Cordyceps grow on the sides of the building, marked by conspicuous veins and all-consuming every red brick of this once-beautiful structure.

The four of you stand outside the entrance of the museum. Cordyceps consume every part of the foundation, Ellie tilts her head to look up at it appalled, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You stand next to Joe, using your hand to rub your right eye, and mumble, “Shit.”

“Well, there’s a way across from the top floor,” Tess says while moving to place her hands in the pockets of her pants. Ellie sarcastically replies, “Well, then I guess it’s fine.” Tess reassures her by adding, “We use to take it all the time.”

Ellie answers, “Okay.” Joel leaves your side and approaches a dry vein of the Cordyceps, removing the rifle he stole from the FEDRA guard, he crouches and touches a part of it to check if it was still active. He swings downward, hits the vein with the butt of the gun, and a puff of dust releases from the dead fungi, he stands to walk over to Tess, “It’s bone dry. It could mean they’re all finally dead in there.”

Tess nods, then they both kneel to prepare their flashlights and weapons, just in case. You and Ellie watch them both rummage through their backpacks, “Oh, man,” the kid mutters.

Joel whips out a flashlight and waves it at Ellie, “Marlene pack you one of these or just sandwiches?” She removes her backpack, “Yeah,” and pulls out her flashlight. Joel looks to you, “Catch, hummin’ bird.” That was the only warning he gave you before tossing you the flashlight, “Luckily, I have a spare.”

You’re short of breath as you hear the nickname he gave you. Miraculously, caught it with both hands, and without even thinking you wink, “Thanks, cowboy.” Thankfully, no one says anything about your quip directed at him.

“Okay, so… more ground rules.” Tess announces and turns to Ellie,  “We’re gonna go slowly. If we come up against anything you get behind us and you stay there, okay?” The young girl nods and wears her backpack, “Yes.” Tess brings out her handgun and flashlight, positioning her hands in a way that she can use both. Ellie glances at the gun she’s holding, “I have a spare hand.”

Joel is unamused by what she is insinuating, dryly replies, “Congratulations.” He walks forward with determination, he pokes his head through the door to do an initial check before turning around to nod at the three of you to signal it’s clear. Reluctantly, you follow them inside, your mind has kicked into overdrive, trying to figure out a way to get past this with zero casualties. If you sacrifice yourself, would that change the ending? Would it buy Tess a little more time? This might be your grand attempt to do something right and kind without assurance, without the promise of an afterlife.

Flashlights dance and shine around the walls of the abandoned museum, you watch your step and try to calm the beating of your heart as you look at the artifacts left behind. You navigate through the hallways and come across a corpse of an infected deceased. Joel shines his flashlight on the fungi, “Yeah, cooked.” Tess exhales, “Finally, some fucking luck.” Ellie steps a little closer to investigate the remains of what was once human, Joel continues, “I guess we should’ve gone this way in the first place.”

You were so caught up in trying to ground yourself in the reality of all of this, that this is actually happening, that you forgot to at least warn them about the Clickers they were about to face in a couple of moments. Just as Ellie was about to turn a corner, you whisper loudly to her, “Ellie wait!”

Too fucking late. “Oh shit,” Ellie exclaims with wide eyes, and Joel makes a move to inspect what she found. A dead bruised, bloodied, young man slouched against the corner. Ellie’s eyes were full of shock, “What the fuck did that?”

Joel and Tess look at each other knowingly, and you finally decide to speak up, for her and theirs, “Whatever you’re about to say or hope for, don’t bother.” The three of them turn to look at you and you decide to continue in an audible whisper, “I wasn’t sure if I could or should warn you, but we need to stay quiet from now on.” You gather your courage to look directly at Joel with an unwavering stare, “It’s exactly what you suspect it is.”

“Are you saying an infected did that?” Ellie whispers to the three adults, and she resumes, “Because I’ve been attacked by one and it wasn’t like that.” Joel looks at you and he can see the way your face twists, your lips curled downwards, and your eyes show your remorse and guilt, he whispers to everyone, “Okay, from this point forward we are silent. Not quiet. Silent.” Ellie looks at him concerned and confused, “What?” But Joel shakes his head, “No. No questions. Just do it.”

This is it. You think to yourself as you will your feet to move, continuing, you follow Joel and Ellie up the stairs with Tess trailing behind. You remember when you could cover your eyes to the scary moments of the show, you could press pause, or fast forward, not needing to witness and feel the distress and panic.

The quiet creak of each floorboard of the steps as your boots land on the rotting wood, it groans all of your weight and dust falls from the ceiling. You all stop silently, waiting for any indication of an infected discovering that all of you were in the museum. After a moment, Joel looks back at you, a silent way of asking if it’s okay, you throw him a bone and give him a tiny spoiler, then you nod at him. And all four of you continue up the stairs.

As you make the first landing of the steps, you shine your flashlight to meet a horrifying view. Multiple corpses of people who were infected with Cordyceps lay on the wooden floors. It’s unspeakable and all-consuming, the silence overwhelms your system, there is a sudden tightness in your chest, and feel a part of your mask slip, your eyes shift and move to look at the pile of bodies. Organs and parts that were once human, were scooped out and transformed into fungi.

Your mouth opens silently, quivering as you do, and you lightly shake your head. Joel steps over the rotting fungi, just as you were about to grab Ellie and warn her about what she couldn’t see, you were too late. Again. A satisfying crunch could be heard throughout the building and you squeeze your eyes shut in fear for a moment then you reopen them. Joel whips around to look at Ellie with annoyance, the kid gives him an apologetic look.

Thankfully, you managed to make it up the steps with no more issues. Joel slowly opens the door to Independence Hall, and the wood gives a quiet creak. He quickly scans the area before deciding to nod at all of you, telling you it’s clear.

With your foresight and knowledge of events that had already happened in your time, you decide to act accordingly and give a hard shove to both Tess and Ellie inside the Hall and quickly follow after, gravity takes place and parts of the museum collapse, pieces of wood and cement block the doors. You were trapped.

Tess and Ellie push themselves off the ground, but you take a little longer to get up. You scraped your arms and hands, and the pain in your head came back. Joel quickly and quietly helps Ellie up then realizes you haven’t moved yet. He immediately makes his way to you, lightly shaking you to get up, you blink back the blurry black spots that are forming in your eyes and stand up with his help, both of his hands on the underside of your forearms.

You squint and slowly look up at him, and for what felt like a second, you see the worry that lines his face. Concern and need to protect you, even though you’re just a stranger. The moment doesn’t last long, you hear the familiar sound of screeching in the room adjacent to you. Flashlights shine in the direction of the noise and you hold your breath as all of you walk backward, keeping your eyes on the monster that emerges from the shadows. The twitchy movements are followed by the croaky noises of the infected, it tries to navigate, searching for its next prey. And on queue, the other Clicker screeches, indicating that there are two of them. This is no longer a museum, it’s a fucking horror house and all of you are in for the worst experience of your life.

You are now surrounded by predators, and prey, playing a twisted game of hide and seek. You press your back against the glass of the cabinet, Tess to your right, Ellie to your left, and Joel being the farthest left. He gestures to his eyes and ears, quietly mouthing, “They can’t see, but they can hear.”

The creature groans and croaks, clicking sounds from its throat. It’s right behind the glass, your eyes drift to the monster and see its jerky movements. You bring your eyes to look at Joel, he lifts his pointer finger to his lips, indicating to be incredibly still and silent. Fear is the darkness and the unknown, a hard-to-shake feeling, it overstays its welcome and leaves you panting.

Tess watches the monster make its way around the corner, limping and shaky. Ellie closes her eyes to try and control her breathing, and you get yourself ready for the fight you never wished for. ‘Why is it always so fucking dark?’ You wonder inside your head, The Clicker comes into view, and you hear an audible gasp come from Ellie. Shit.

The creature turns in your direction at full tilt, mouth wide open with its yellowing teeth, and gives the loudest high-pitch screech. Joel sprays bullets into the Clickers’ chest, but it fights back, he looks in your direction and yells out, “Run!”

The second clicker begins to sprint toward you and Tess shoots at it but the bullet misses. Tess grabs Ellie by the arm and drags her away, while you run with them. The four of you get separated, Tess trips and so do you and Ellie, she yells out to tell her, “Run… Run!”

Ellie crawls her under a table and finds her way out, while the Clicker runs after Tess. You are now at a crossroads, Joel is running at the other end of the exhibit while Tess heads in the opposite direction. You swiftly make a split-second decision and duck, right behind Ellie under the table, however, you do not crawl away, instead, you wait for the Clicker to run by you and quietly get up to follow after Tess. This is your chance to make things right, to ensure she doesn’t get bitten. Will this cost you your life?

You grab an ax hanging from the wall and run to the other side of the room, you hold it with both hands and feel the sweat coating your skin. You turn a corner and see Tess pinned up against the wall, the creature feasting on her neck, your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach, and you let out a scream, “No!”

The creature quickly turns and shrieks at you, angry for interrupting its meal, now it begins sprinting towards you, and the adrenaline pumps into your bloodstream and system. The anger starts to flare in your chest, the silence grows louder along with the ringing in your ears. You stand unwavering and with the courage that has been asleep for so long, it awakens at the right time.

Aiming directly at its head, you throw the axe with everything you have. It lands on a portion of its mushroom-infected face. Yet, it only slows the creature down a second, screaming and swinging its long mutated arms, and tries to locate you, but, it hears the commotion in the other room, loud pops of a revolver can be heard and you assume it’s Joel killing the other Clicker.

The abomination of what once was human turns and screeches at Joel and Ellie, it scampers towards them and you feel the pulse in your veins like a fighter, you fight the fear and let the rush take over, you sharply glance at the handgun Tess had dropped during the chaos and without hesitation, you pick it up and pray it still has some bullets in the chamber.

This was a skill you wished you never had to use. All those days in the range were just a precaution, the world is not kind to women, and you learned to protect yourself just in case. It meant only using a gun when you or the people you loved were in danger.

Using one hand, you swiftly remove the safety with your thumb, aim, and shoot at the head of the Clicker. With three loud pops and then a fourth one for good measure, the monster falls to its knees and on the ground.

Dead.

Blood oozes from the infected’s head, and you stand there watching the crimson splatter grow larger. Tess appears from the archway and takes in the vision before her. You turn to aim the gun at her, your fight instincts kick in, still high from the adrenaline, and you stand there breathing heavily.

Joel yells out your name. You blink once, then twice. A beat passes, and you don’t register Joel approaching you in a calm slow manner, his arm stretched out with his palm facing you, treating you as if you were a frightened animal, now he places his hand on top of yours, a touch so gentle you barely register it. Carefully and steadily he takes away the gun in your hand and turns the safety on before handing it to Tess, which she slowly takes, while you let it happen.

Your vision is blurry and tries to swallow away your guilt. You were too late. You couldn’t save her. Joel says your name again, he’s in front of you now, his frame covering and protecting Tess, but he has replaced the gun you once held, with his hand. Ellie watches the events unfold from the side, not wanting to create any more noise or movement. He squeezes your hand and whispers, “It’s okay… It’s okay.”

It’s not, but his voice brings you back anyway. You look to Tess, your eyes full of sorrow, and your voice quivers as you speak, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Tess nods knowingly, she swallows her pride and sadness to say, “It’s okay. You tried… um, thank you.”

Her words completely snap out of your trance, and you see the world a little clearer now. You nod back at her, then bring your eyes to Joel, who is still holding your hand. His eyes dance around, observing and taking note of every detail of your face. You’re the first to break the staring contest, realizing that Tess doesn’t have a lot of time. You step back away from him, dropping his hand, “We should get going.”

Joel turns to Tess, “You all right?” She nods, “Twisted ankle, but yeah.” She limps over to Ellie, “You all right?”

“Well, I didn’t shit my pants, so…” Ellie says and pulls up the sleeve of her jacket to reveal a bite from the infected. “You fucking kidding me?” she exclaims and turns to look at Joel, “I mean if it was going to happen to one of us.”

Tess stays silent at that, glancing at you to keep your mouth shut. You give a discreet nod in response, Tess calls out to Joel, “Hey. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Joel pushes the window up and opens, stepping out onto the roof, Ellie follows and you do too, leaving Tess for last, who plops down to rest her ankle, “Fuck.”Joel kneels and opens his pack to give Ellie a bandage, “Put this around your arm.” She takes it and says, “Thanks.” You watch as Ellie makes her way to a wooden plank, makeshift bridge, “Over there?” Joel glances over while continuing to fuss over Tess, “Yeah, I know it looks scary.”

“That was scary. This is wood.” Ellie states and proceeds to walk across the wood plank to get to the other building’s roof. Joel watches in disbelief and hollers, “Just wait there. Give us a minute.” He turns to look at you, “Can you go make sure she’s…” You only nod, knowing that Joel and Tess need to talk, you look at the wood plank they call a bridge and mumble to yourself, “If the way I die is falling from a high place, so be it.” 

You walk across with no problem and catch up to Ellie, “Hey,” you say as you stand by her and take in the view. “What happened to you back there?” Ellie asks, the wind blowing strands of hair away from her face. You huff, “I don’t know. The adrenaline took over, I guess.”

You both stand in silence now, then you can hear the heavy footsteps of Joel walking up to the right of Ellie, she merely glances at him and then turns back to see the State House in the distance, glittering under the sunlight. “Is it everything you hoped for?” Joel asks her, Ellie blinks but answers him, “Jury’s still out. But, man you can’t deny that view.”

You hear Tess approaching from behind, eager to keep moving, “Come on, let’s get there before it’s dark.” She turns and then climbs a ladder down, letting out a groan of pain no one question or brings up. Joel nods at Ellie to follow Tess which he does, you look at Joel as Ellie climbs down. And you held his gaze for a moment, then look to his broken watch, before climbing down after the young kid.

Leaves crunch with every step you take, Tess lightly limping ahead, she turns to look at you, and you could only stare back. Tess looks straight ahead once more, and you can’t help but wonder about the violence of the dog days and what could get you through this. You see the State House from a distance, a hauntingly beautiful sight, creeper vines growing on the pillars and sides of the edifice.

The group decides to hide behind an abandoned car near the state house, and immediately could tell that something was very wrong, “Where the fuck are they?” Tess harshly states, Joel, shakes his head and decides to go check the truck parked outside by the steps of the ruined State House.

Joel walks over cautiously to the door of the truck, he swings it open to aim his rifle at it, only for the seats to be empty. Joel sees the blood splattered on the sides of the door, and turns to mouth at you all, “Stay back.” He rounds the side of the truck and notices a recently deceased, he continues to the back of the truck, swinging the giant blue metal doors, to confront no one.

You follow Ellie and Tess as she demands, “Joel, what the fuck is going on?” Joel shakes his head, “I don’t know.”

No longer wanting to play along, you look down to see a trail of blood up the steps and into the State House, you hear someone call your name, but say nothing as you walk up to the doors of the building. You push your way through, briskly walking to the center of the structure, and you take a good look at the multiple dead people scattered on the ground. You shake your head and close your eyes, “Fuck.”

You hear the three come in after you and they notice immediately what happened, Tess goes into a panic, “Okay. I mean there’s gotta be a fucking radio or something, right?” She proceeds to open the kit boxes that contain nothing but supplies, searching for anything that could help them win.

“Who killed them? FEDRA?” Ellie asks, and you reply, “No,” you nod to the man on the ground, Joel rolls him over with his boot and you continue, “One of them got bit. The healthy ones fought the sick ones. Everyone lost.”

Joel’s nostrils flared as he stared at you, “You knew? You knew and didn’t even bother to warn us that this was all for nothin’?” You raised your chin, “They were already dead hours before we got here.” His jaw clenched while you stood, fists clenched by your sides, and rolled your shoulders back, glaring at Joel.

Joel calls out to Tess, “Tess, what are you doing?” She ignores him and approaches Ellie, “Where did Marlene say that she was taking you?” Ellie responds unsure, “Uh, I don’t know. Just west.”

“Just west. Fuck. okay. Well, I mean, one of them’s gotta have a map on them, right?” Tess then goes to search one of the deceased Firefly’s pockets, “Joel, can you help me?”

“No.” He fumed, “Tess, it’s over. We are going home.”

“That’s not my fucking home!”

You let the exchange happen, while you move to one of the kits to retrieve a handgun, some ammo, and a small first-aid kit, and steal a backpack sitting on top of the chairs to shove all your supplies inside. Then, you hear Tess say the words you knew would happen, “I’m staying. I mean, our luck had to run out sooner or later.”

“Fuck.” Ellie whispers, “She’s infected.”

Tess sighs, and Joel’s eyes hardened and narrowed into slits, “Show me.” She takes a step forward and whispers his name, only for him to take a step back. Tess then steps back, anguish splashes across her face, then pulls the collar of her shirt and jacket, to reveal the growing infection on her neck, “Oops, right? And don’t bother taking it against her,” Tess gestures to you, “She did everything she could to save me, but I guess fate had already cut my string.”

Joel takes in a breath of disbelief while Tess looks to Ellie, “Take your bandage off.” Which she does to reveal no evidence of infection, just a new scar on her forearm to add to her collection. Tess makes her way to Ellie and holds her arm, “Look. Joel? This is real.” She drags Ellie closer to him, “Joel, she’s fucking real.” Her grip suddenly becomes twitchy and she wills her hand to stop shaking and hides it behind her back, she stares directly into the eyes of whom she once loved, “I need you to get her to Bill and Frank’s.”

Joel is shaking his head as he replies, “No.” But Tess continues to speak, “They’ll take her off your hands. They’ll handle it from here.”

“No… I can’t. They won’t take her. They’re not gonna take her.” He says and you watch each part you knew to unfold, Tess whispers to him, “They will because you’ll convince them. Yes, you will. I never ask you for anything. Not to feel the way I felt…”

“No.” He stubbornly states, but Tess lets the tears stream down her face and exclaims, “Now, you shut the fuck up because I don’t have time.”

He grants her request and listens, “This is your chance. You get her there. You keep her alive and you set everything right. All the shit we did.” Joel shakes his head as Tess begs, “Please say yes, Joel. Please.”

Despite the somber mood, a screech from one of the corpses has come to life and taken its revenge on the living, Ellie screams out, “Oh, fuck!” But your reaction time is faster this time, and you no longer hesitate as you walk towards the parasite, remove the safety of the gun and shoot it point blank in the head. Joel comes up behind you, and takes notice of what you’re staring at, the Cordyceps patch has awakened the rest of the infected and you hear the croaks and shrieks from outside of the State House.

Joel runs up to one of the doors to check how many are on the way, he shuts the door and locks it after making out the horde approaching. “How many?” Tess asks, Joel walks past her, “All of ‘em. Maybe a minute.”

Tess takes one of the rifles off of the floor and uses the butt of the gun to remove the lid on the fuel barrels. She pushes it to the floor, and the clear yellow liquid pours out of it and coats the floor. You help and do the same to the other barrel, knowing how this will end for Tess. “What are you doing?” Ellie asks, watching you and Tess scatter grenades on the ground, “Making sure they don’t follow you.”

Tess then approaches Joel, breathless and shaking, “Joel. Save who you can save.”

He clenches his jaw and his nostrils flared, angry, confused, upset, everyone he ever loved leaves or dies. He stares at her, soaking in her image as much as he can, and then he makes his decision. He quickly grabs Ellie by the arm and drags her away, her protests can be heard as it fades away around the corner, she punches his arm to try and break loose but he’s much stronger, “No! We’re not leaving her! Get off me, you fucker!”

Tess says your name and you turn to face her, “You weren’t lying? About the whole different universe thing?” You can only shake your head in response, hoping she can see your heart breaking into pieces.

Tess hums and gives you a small smile, “Take care of them for me, please? Especially Joel. Stubborn as a mule but you’ll learn to love him, just like I did.” You decide to grant the woman her dying wish, you nod and whisper, “Goodbye, Tess.”

You turn to run and didn’t look back, pushing out of the wooden doors, while tears stream down your face slightly obscuring your vision. But you manage to catch up with Joel and Ellie, as you did, the blast from the State House is sudden and loud. The smell of burning kerosine fills the air and you turn to look back at the raging fire, Joel turns and points his rifle at the area, ready to shoot just in case, only to hear screeching and the infected burning on the steps of the building.

You stare and one-half of your senses silently wish Tess would walk out, but you can no longer rewind, she’s gone. Ellie pants, trying to catch her breath, tears rimming her eyes and Joel lowers his rifle to turn away from the roaring flames. You and Ellie turn to watch his lone silhouette walk away from you both.

A/N: WELL that’s the end of Episode 2! Lowkey was fighting invisible demons to get this chapter edited and out bcs I wanted to improve on describing movement, anger, sorrow, etc. IT WAS EXTREMELY DIFFICULT T^T but I hope I didn’t disappoint ya’ll <3 ALSO YEP MHM TAGLIST! Send me an ask so I can add ya! It’ll stay open for a tiny period of time so send away :D

I’m proud of you for doing the right thing by trying to save Tess! Even though we all know you secretly admire Joel and would have chased after him to ensure his safety with Ellie. hehehehehe 

Yes, the reader only knows everything up to Episode 3, meaning she has no clue about the rest of the show! She knows (most) parts of the video game but alas we know Television series like to change things so she’s lowkey fucked lol

I LIVE FOR YOUR COMMENTS ya’ll crack me up and have the best reactions. Thank you for your support and love. I’ll try and get the next chapter out soon!

-Grace

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[moth-bells]

Hi so, I dont know whenever I'm gonna be able to write or draw anything I like for my cryptids au, so I'm going to give you all literally all the lore and if I ever get to it, its already here.

It also doesnt always make perfect sense but I think that gives it charm and I'm not gonna run around in circles trying to make it perfect Gonna try and make this generally in timeline of events order

The earth is formed. From the dust of star dust rises two figures

They have no names and they were never born, forming from things they do not understand, yet know all too well

They are always at one another's side

They are both everything and nothing to one another

They witness eons together

Watching little specks shift and change and grow

They watch life and ease life along with hands that do what is needed without thought behind how it happens

They have purpose yet none here, witnesses

The duo watch as the earth fills with life only for it all to nearly vanish

They watch life persevere despite that

Those first peculiar humans, though without that name yet, come to be. So small and fragile, yet the two can see potential with these ones

They travel the globe, checking in on different places, seeing how the people so similar are slowly changing. They find it fascinating, though they feel this with other animals

One day, they realize many of these people that they've visited, perhaps assisted at times, and occasionally revisited, have places of worship

Neither of them understand, but they gather that these humans seem to look at them as higher than them. Gods.

Are they? They arent living in the same way as other beings. They cant die. They dont age and were never born.

If not gods, what are they then?

They dont know.

They do eventually move on, but one day, an unknown amount of years later, they return to one of these villages

The people, they do rejoice for their deities have graced them again

The duo decided to linger here longer than before.

One day, theres murmurs of malcontent floating

The two have witnessed battles, but stayed out of them.

They had never watched wars begin, the quiet wisps of smoke that would soon become flames

Now these two, unnatural as they are, were not infinitely strong.

Yes, they were stronger than many of these small humans, who were much smaller than them

But, if there were many humans against one of them, there was only so much that they could do

The humans, separated into factions, decided that one of the duo were a true god while the other was something evil and wrong.

Such is the way of humanity

The two realized they might have stayed too long now, deciding it was time to leave

It was too late for that now.

These two beings, nameless, named and renamed by many, but never calling each other by any.

Two who had been together since they were glints in an existence less universe

Were separated

Humans from either side took their 'rightful' god. Determined to use their worship against the other side.

The two beings were able to take some of them, desperately trying to not be taken away from the other.

They were not gods, though, not in the way these humans thought.

What they were was unknowable, but they still were not ever powerful.

With enough force, they were dragged away by the people who once looked at them equally

The one yellow as pollen was taken into a deep cavernous temple, locked into the darkness, with nothing within it. No escape. The entrance to this prison was sealed with a boulder.

He screamed for them to release him, but his words, something only his other understood, fell on deaf ears.

He pushed and clawed at the rock, but it was too heavy

These people believed their worship of isolation and fasting was pure and accepted by their god.

The other was left to a fate less horrendous, but equally lonely.

Tossed down into a pit, deep with only a manmade covering to hide it.

He as well demanded to be freed, but none of that was to come

These humans worshipped the sky at night that this being reminded them of, that being the only thing that he could see from his prison, though there was also a reminder in the daylight of who he was missing

The humans dropped food of animals down to him.

They werent able to starve to death, nor did they need to eat in the way animals and living things did, but it would give them extra energy if they needed it. No, they took in the rays of the star above them.

So, with the one in the pit, he received more that enough to keep him mobile.

The one in the cave, however...

centuries passed. Thousands and thousands of years

And they who have been here since before time itself, before knowing that of light and space and earth and death

They changed

Slowly, over time, of desperation and madness, and forces they themselves would never truly understand

They changed.

The cavern, where slowly less and less voices of prayer came, lost to a memory

Where eyes as blue as the sky became milky white

Where his mind grew blank with bleakness and its voice lost all form of words

Body became sharp and thin and twisted

Claws and teeth long and sharp.

In the pit, staring up at day and night as blood, and bodies of animal sacrifice fell upon him

One day, he accepted them, hoping for the strength needed to climb free

Eventually, it forgot why it was even down there.

And then the food stopped coming.

It had spent years and years, copying the shrieks and cries of a wounded animal, luring certain animals to the wide spaced grate above

It never felt hunger but it ached for the blood and rush that the meal provided

Its body became more wild, more dangerous

For some years its back ached until there was a weak flap of wings

Wings.

W i n g s.

Freedom.

The other was still trapped for sometime, having long forgotten what it was. What it was missing. Neither could remember but they could feel it

It would be sheer luck that some unfortunate children, merely teenagers, would come to that stone that their ancestors had made and laid there, not just a myth among them now.

That a god lay in the cave, dangerous and angry, locked away when it tried to turn against the people that worshiped it...or so they say the story goes

It would be their misfortune as they struggled to move the circular rock, that light from the evening setting sun would start to peek through inside

And something would come leaping out at them.

They fled from the monster, leaving one screaming to their fate to the creature so starved.

After, once its frenzy ended, it luckily took off into the forest surrounding it, away from the pain of the sun on its wide white eyes

It was fate, it would seem that they would find one another again

So changed by time and humanities unknowing cruelties

More animal than whatever they may have been to begin with

The winged one had found it one day, though not knowing fully why it was pulled toward it

The blind one, having changed even more in these years of freedom, lashed out at the new arrival

This, in turn, made the winged one defend itself.

They fought, clicking and screeching at one another until the teeth were dug into fur

Something clicked in this mindless mind that this thing was the same as itself.

They backed away from one another

Slowly, they reapproached...they chirred and cooed and inspected one another. One with sight the other with smell.

And they laid down together for the first time in forever

They wandered for some years, avoiding the creatures they felt compelled to hide from.

Until one day..

A small little voice spoke up at the blind one, not screaming or attacking with things that hurt

"Puppy..?"

#benji rambles #cryptids and baby au #I know I would never be able to write anything or draw anythign as good as what I have in my head #but I need to get it out #bc I want other people to know what I was thinking for them #dcau #dca #dca community #sun fnaf #moon fnaf #dca and reader