#only a few more chapters left yall
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Redamancy: Chapter Twenty-Four
Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?
Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, cuss words, and… angst
Notes: I fell asleep after I decided to add a Jasper dialogue last night… I’m sorry it’s later than normal lol remember, I told yall Jasper has to make up for his being gone😌🫣
Word Count: 2373
Series Masterlist
• March 20th, 2006 • Forks HS •
Reader
The weekend passed by in a blur, I spent it wishing I got more time with Jasper, but he desperately needed to hunt. So that left me with Quil, if he noticed my far-away mind, he didn’t comment, the new video game he picked up Friday occupied most of his attention.
Friday. I jumped off a cliff with Bella, was rescued by Quil’s ex-best friend, and then the object of my every waking thought showed up at my doorstep.
Friday was a long day, to say the least.
Which brings us to today - Monday. I have to go to school as if it were a normal fucking day, like my weekend hadn’t changed the trajectory of my life. Like my other best friend isn’t in Italy right now fighting to save the man she loves.
Slamming the door shut to my locker, I turn towards the direction of second period when a hulking mass at the other end of the hallway stops me short.
The blonde next to him grins, gracefully walking in my direction as if no more than the weekend had passed since I last saw them.
“Life has been rather dull without you.” Rosalie brings me into a delicate hug, the smile on her face growing.
“I missed you too.” The words aren’t much more than a whisper and my heart twists in my chest, they’re really back.
My eyes haven’t left his and they’re so full of sadness. The hallway empties out, but neither of us has managed to move an inch or look away.
Rose nudges me, “Go.”
A simple word, but the command moves my feet. It started off as one step and then two, but then I’m halfway down the hallway in a full sprint. Emmett takes one large step and then another before I fling myself into his arms, wrapping my own tightly around his neck.
“I hate you.” The words aren’t true, but this ache in my chest can’t be described any other way.
“I know.” His words are muffled as he lifts me.
“I missed you every day.” Tears well in my eyes, making it hard to see the grin splitting Rosalie’s face.
“I missed you more.” He argues back.
Safety, that’s Emmett McCarty Cullen. He’s strength and power and softness that only a man his size with his heart could exude. He is the definition of protector - someone that would go to any lengths to safeguard those closest to him. And just his hugs alone could cure anything, the hug of a brother who cares immensely.
“You left me.” The tremble in my voice gives my hurting heart away.
He clears his throat, “And I put him through hell every day for it.”
“He really has.” Rose confirms, full on smiling at me.
Emmett sets me back down on my own two feet, holding my shoulders in his massive hands, “Never again, I can promise you that.”
“Emmett-” I start, but he isn’t having it.
“Nope, we’re already late for class and I have some catching up to do.” Winking, he offers me one arm and his mate the other, leading us in the direction of next period.
• March 21st, 2006 • Home •
Reader
“Hey, you got a sec?” Knocking on the door frame to my mother’s bedroom, I watch as she turns off her tv.
“For you? Always honey, c’mere.” She pats the bed in front of her, her full attention making me a little nervous.
I sit and work up the courage for a few beats. “He’s back.”
“I know, I saw Doctor Cullen at work yesterday.” Her calm answer surprises me.
“I’m not sure what to do, momma.” I pull at her old bed spread, hoping for some words of wisdom.
“Well, you have options.” Her warm hands cover mine and encourage me to meet her eyes. “You can kick him to the curb since he dropped off the face of the earth for six months.”
“Or?” I ask, provoking her to complete her unfinished advice.
“Or, you can give him another chance.” A beat of silence while I weighed her answer. “You don’t have to do it right away either, you can ask for space to think about it. You can make him talk it out too.”
I process the possibility of cutting him out of my life for all of half a second before my heart tells me it’s impossible.
“Talk to him, I know you need to.” My mother has always been able to read me like a book, it’s why it’s so easy to get along with her.
“Why give me options? Why not forbid me to see him?”
Her knowing smile grows, “Because you’ll do what you want anyways. And no matter how much I want to protect my baby,” she lovingly strokes my cheek, “you have to navigate this in a way that heals that pretty heart of yours. I’d be failing you as a parent to not allow you to figure this out.”
“Mom-” tears threaten the corners of my eyes.
“Don’t think that means I’ll cut him some slack.” She jokes, but her tone includes some seriousness. “He hurt my baby.”
“I love you, you know that?”
“Always sweet pea, I love you too.” She delivers a sloppy kiss to my cheek before reclining back to her previous tv-watching position.
Rising from her bed with a lighter heart in my chest, she stops me at her doorway, “I got your back kid, whatever you decide.”
I turn and give her a genuine smile, “I know, thanks mom.”
• March 22nd, 2006 • Forks HS •
Reader
Setting my tray down at the dubbed “Cullen table” I make direct eye contact with Edward as I stand before the siblings.
Don’t fucking do that again.
His face splits with a grin. “To which are you referring?”
Leaving her, leaving your family, going to Volterre with a death wish, you fucking idiot.
He actually laughs at my angry directive thoughts, the bastard.
You have people that care about you, you know. My eyes soften as his meet mine seriously. Including me. I’m glad you’re safe. And home.
He nods, unable to meet my eyes now.
“I’d hug you if you weren’t so adverse to physical affection.” Before I finish my statement, he rises from his chair to round the table towards me.
Shock roots me to the spot as his arms envelop lightly around my frame, my arms hesitantly wrapping around the tall Cullen after a beat.
“Thank you.” It’s whispered low enough for just me to hear and he’s returning to his seat.
Emmett’s jaw practically hits the floor, “You’ve never given me a hug-”
“Because your hugs are rather violent in their intensity.” Edward notates.
“But-” Emmett whines.
“No ‘buts’, I’m his favorite.” Sticking out my tongue at Emmett as I take my seat next to Jasper, the jealous vampire launches into a deep explanation of why he must be the family favorite.
“Thank you for starting something I will never hear the end of.” Jasper leans over to whisper in my ear as I grin at Edward who rolls his eyes.
“Glad to be of service.”
Reader
That afternoon I rode with Alice to the Cullen’s after school, something about an intervention with Bella and their family. And naturally, the curious part of me agreed to tag along.
The moment her car comes to a stop in their driveway, Jasper is opening my door and offering me a steadying hand.
“Do you know what this is about?” I ask, watching as Alice skips ahead of us.
“Not a clue, sweet girl.” He answers, leading me inside his family home.
His cool hand enveloping mine sends a pang through my chest, it’s like none of this is real - I’m just in some heavy dream. I’ve wished and hoped for their return with every fucking cell in my body, but now that they’re back? It’s surreal and I’m on edge - I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Standing loosely in a circle in the living room, our attention turns to Bella on the stairs, Edward looming behind her.
“You all know what I want. And I know how much I’m asking for. The only thing I can think of, for it to be fair, is to just vote.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about-”
“Shut up.” Bella shushes Edward from his grumbling.
Bella is asking them to vote on her becoming a vampire? A slight tremble begins in my hands, this isn’t exactly a debate I’d wished to be a part of. I mean, what would this mean for me? Would we eventually have one of these for me?
“Alice?” Bella asks, opting for starting with the one securely in her corner.
“I already consider you my sister.” She surges forward to wrap her in a hug. “Yes.”
One vote yes.
“Thank you.”
“I vote yes.” The rumble of Jasper’s chest under the hand I have placed there stops my breathing. “It would be nice to not want to kill you all the time.”
It would be nice to not want to kill you all the time. The words ring in my ears and burn my chest, repeating.
Two votes yes.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry to both of you for how I’ve acted. And I’m really grateful that you were brave enough to go and save my brother.” Rosalie’s next sentence a quiet confession within her answer, “But this isn’t a life I would’ve chosen for myself. And I wish there had been someone there to vote no for me. So, no.”
A breath, one vote no.
“I vote hell yeah.” Em spins her around in his excitement, “We can pick a fight with these Volturi some other day.”
Three votes yes, one vote no.
“I already consider you a part of the family, yes.” Esme happily gives her blessing as Carlisle steps forward to look at Edward.
Four votes yes, it’s almost unanimous.
“Why are you doing this to me?” He asks his adoptive father. “You know what this means.”
“You’ve chosen not to live without her, which leaves me no choice. I won’t lose my son.”
Carlisle’s answer is like a gavel being slammed down, sealing her fate, confirming what she wants.
Bella meets my eyes, even I can tell relief floods them as I’m sure anxiety fills mine. She’s going to turn into one of them - a vampire.
Jasper
After a few heavy minutes following the votes of my family, I turn to Y/n.
“Would you like to go home? It’s getting late.” I ask her, but her eyes are distant.
Immediately I gently probe at her emotions, but I can feel her trying to suppress them. I furrow my brow as I look down at her, why is she hiding from me?
I tilt her chin back and she removes herself entirely. Ice, I know as a vampire my core temperature is already low from the absence of blood in my system, but with her physical departure - it feels as though every ounce of warmth has been zapped from my very soul.
“I need time.” Her request is hardly a whisper and her eyes still refuse to meet mine.
Shock roots me to the floor, time? She’s asking for time from me. Not with, from. Away. Without.
And I must grant it to her. I’d give her anything in this world she would ask for.
I remove myself a step back from her even though my chest wishes to tug me forward.
“Emmett?” I ask aloud, not taking my eyes from her, he immediately answers by way of flashing to my side. “Take her home?”
“Of course, but-?” Curiosity tinged with sadness finishes what he fails to ask.
“Just get her home safe, please.” I step aside, forcing my eyes to my shoes as I clear the path to the front door for them.
Emmett escorts her outside and I swear, every bit of strength leaves and threatens to buckle me. I watch as the Jeep’s tail lights disappear down the driveway from the front windows.
“It’s the right thing to do.” Esme lays a hand on my shoulder as she watches with me, I hate the truth in her words. “She needs to process everything, we haven’t given her the chance and now this with Isabella, it’s a lot.”
“I know.”
Love. “Come here.”
I turn into her waiting arms, the overwhelming urge to cry hits me like a fucking freight train when her arms pull me close.
“She will be back, just be patient with her.”
“What if she realizes-”
“Nonsense, she’s hopelessly in love with you.”
I pull back to inspect her face, “What?”
She smiles at me in only the way a mother really can, “My son, trust me. Give her a few days, but she needs to know that love is returned.”
“How do you-”
“I’ve known since the day you first brought her home. I knew then she was yours before you ever figured out she was your singer, I’m a mom like that.” Winking at me, she pats my shoulder. “She makes you happier, lighter. It makes me happy to finally see that in you.”
Venomous tears make my vision swim, more often than not I take the fact that Esme mothers us in ways unique to every single one of us for granted.
Glancing down, I clear my throat like a typical male trying to avoid being emotional, “Thank you, Esme.”
“Dear, you never have to thank me, I love you more than you know.”
“I love you too.” I kiss her on the cheek, our talk having smoothed out my frayed nerves.
Time. I can give her time to think, to process everything that’s happened in the last week. But then she’s mine - she has to know how I feel about her. And if she wants nothing to do with me after that?
Well, I guess I’d give her that too.
But not until after I fight for her, because fighting for her is in my bones. Fighting is all I’ve ever known and it’s time I put it to good use.
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SEVEN [THE INBETWEEN] - P4L
PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader
SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[3k] Two weeks since John B and Sarah have been gone and the pogues decide it's time for a proper memorial to say goodbye, but an impulsive gesture leaves two of the four remaining pogues heads spinning.
WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of death, unestablished relationship/unrequited love (Pope x Kiara), mentions of child abuse/neglect, general angst
NOW PLAYING‧₊˚
A/N‧₊˚ This is where things get a little tricky. Also, tumblr decided to kick me out of my mf account so thats why this is like 2 days late instead of one, I DID NOT LIE TO YALL😭 and sorry if this chapter moves a little fast
˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗
“RISE AND SHINE, BLONDIE.” You whispered in the sleeping boy’s ear. JJ immediately slapped a harsh palm over his ear, effectively slapping himself and waking himself up, groaning in pain as you stood by giggling.
“Fuck you.” He mumbled, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he sat up, Marley emerging next to him from under the covers. You tilted your head at the dog, scoffing.
“You do know that is my dog, right?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at a sleepy-eyed JJ who simply looked at the animal over his shoulder before turning back to you and shrugging with a sly smile on his face.
“Not anymore. Her real owner gives her bacon and she loves it.” He retorted, throwing an arm over Marley and pulling her into his side as he rubbed the top of her head. “Ain’t that right, girl?”
You rolled your eyes, your bare feet patting against the hardwood floors of The Chateau as you left the room, calling over your shoulder. “Then her real owner can clean up the aftermath when she vomits it out because she refuses to chew.” You reprimanded playfully, sliding your slippers onto your feet that were sat by the front door. “I’m gonna clean up a bit. Pope and Kie should be here soon. And I bought more cereal, it’s above the fridge.” You called out before going out onto the porch, letting the door shut behind you, the screen rattling.
Today marked two weeks since John B and Sarah disappeared.
Pope and Kiara had finally made time in their schedules to do a proper send off. Not that you blamed them — Kiara’s parents wanted her as far away from the pogues as possible, with you being a semi-exception. They’d swamped her with work after school at The Wreck, working from the time school ended until the street lights came on. The weekends were no different, with the addition of taking the car away, only allowing her to drive it on the weekdays to and from school.
Heyward had Pope doing grocery run after grocery run, as well catching some of the seafood supply himself. Pope didn’t mind though, he was working on repairing his relationship with his parents after everything that happened. Things seemed to be looking up, Heyward didn’t scowl when you all came around anymore and his mother started to greet you all again. They were easing up on the restrictions, too — allowing Pope to drive the car again and be out past ten.
You and JJ had been managing — he was taking small, odd jobs here and there. Mowing lawns, fixing cars just to keep the lights on and the water running. You did what you could — sneaking into your house, only once or twice, to take some necessities and things to sell. You’d managed to pawn off a good chunk of your mother’s jewelry and some things you didn’t need anymore. It was enough to keep you both fed and clean.
Life was starting to seem okay again. It didn’t seem like there was such a large storm cloud over you and your friends anymore. Now, you just all felt an emptiness when you were together, which was probably why you weren’t together as much anymore.
School was…well, school. You and JJ hadn’t been since it happened. No adults to force you to go, right? Pope and Kie had been a few times, but their parents allowed them some time to themselves occasionally.
Despite everything, today was the first day you all would be hanging out as a full group again. The Chateau always looked a mess but admittedly, you and JJ hadn’t been helping the place to look any better. The porch was littered with beer bottles, soda cans, snack wrappers. Things that had been piling up from your late night talks.
Grabbing a plastic bag, you started gathering all of the trash and throwing it inside, the space already looking better.
“SO, HOW ARE WE DOING THIS EXACTLY?” Kiara asked, hands in her pockets as she stood in front of the big tree, next to Pope. The sun was starting to set, casting a low, orange hue over the backyard.
She and Pope had arrived not too long ago, the gathering not being as lively as it used to be. Less smiles, less laughs. There was small talk and a few jokes here and there but it just seemed so forced, as if no one wanted to say “let’s just get this over with”.
The group had been divided, although none of you would admit it aloud. It seemed as if Pope and Kiara did their thing, while you and JJ did yours.
“We could just carve it. Might take a while, though…” Pope pitched, rubbing his hands over the top of his head and shifting his weight.
“I mean, we got all day.” JJ shrugged simply, adjusting the baseball cap on his head. “I say we carve this baby up.” He shrugged, hiking up the toolbox in his hand, the metal objects inside rattling, and walking to the forefront of the group. You walked up beside him, looking up with your hands in your back pockets. “Care to do the honors?” He smiled down at you, flicking out a pocket knife in your direction.
Taking the object from his hand, you faced the large, loud live oak tree and began carving the initials of your fallen friend into the wood.
THREE HOURS AND TWO BEERS LATER AND THE TREE WAS CARVED AND BRANDED. A tan-colored, heart-shaped splotch in the center.
2003 2020
JOHN B ROUTLEDGE
P4L
After you’d finished carving, JJ had done the honors of engraving the words with a heated piece of metal, burning the words forever into the oak. The four of you raised a beer to John B, hoping that he could feel you wherever he was.
You’d branched off afterwards, something that never happened before but you’d grown accustomed to the odd dynamic between the group now. You all tried your hardest to ignore it or remedy it but it was useless.
Pope was sitting on a log, staring at the fire JJ had started. JJ was swinging in the hammock as you made your way over to Kiara, who was sitting on the steps of The Chateau.
“Hey. You alright?” You asked, sitting down next to the girl as she took a sip of her beer, humming in response.
“As alright as I can be, I guess.” She replied almost despondently. You were all grieving in your own ways but something about Kiara’s grief didn’t seem like grief. It was like she was dealing with some other conflicting emotions on top of it all. “You and JJ have been keeping this place up, huh? I can actually see wood on the floor.” She joked lightly.
You chuckled in response. “Yeah... yeah, we’re trying. The place is one kick away from collapsing but it’s a home, nonetheless.”
“Have you been home? Since…” You nodded your head at the girl’s question, staring down at your sneakers.
“...Once or twice just to steal some shit to pawn off. I don’t really care for anything in that house anymore. Or anyone…” Kiara simply drew her lips into a thin line, nodding silently with no clue as to how to continue the conversation. So, you took the initiative for her. “How’ve you been? With your parents? Pope?”
She just grimaced and shrugged, playing with the rim of the open beer bottle. “They’re... going, I suppose. My parents don’t even know I’m here right now. If they did…” She trailed off, scoffing. “And Pope, I don’t know. He’s sweet, he’s just not…” She trailed off once again, but this time it was like she knew what she wanted to say but it was almost as if she couldn’t. Wouldn’t. She seemed weary, hesitant — eyes fleeting between your own and the blades of grass beneath her feet. “Whatever. Forget it. Me and Pope are figuring it out, I guess. I’m trying to give it a chance.”
“That’s good.” You smiled smally, nodding absentmindedly. “If it helps, he really does like you. So, even if you two don’t work out, just let him down easy. He’s our friend and a really good guy.” She simply nodded, taking another swig of her beverage and looking out into the distance. Suddenly, she was standing from the steps, hands on her knees.
“I’m gonna go get another beer...” She sighed before walking back inside.
Maybe you were reading too much into it but Kiara’s grief was seeming more like a cold shoulder...
“YOU WARM ENOUGH, POPE?” You inquired, sitting next to the boy on the log, him shooting you a small smile before returning his gaze to the flames in front of him. The fire casting an amber glow over his skin, making his eyes seem browner, almost softer.
“Yeah, a little too hot.” He chuckled lightly, leaning back further onto the wooden seat, placing his hands behind him for support. “...I meant to ask, is JJ okay? Like, actually?” He asked with a bit of hesitance, eyeing the blonde swaying calmly on the hammock. You followed his sights, spotting JJ swaying lowly before turning back to Pope.
“He’s…doing better than I expected. But that goes for all of us, I suppose.” You offered honestly. “Why’d you ask?” You questioned, to which Pope shrugged one shoulder before replying.
“I know John B was a really big part of his life. If I was as close as those two, I don’t know how I’d feel. I know we haven’t been around much, Kie and I, but he just seems…too calm.” You didn’t know how to tell Pope that JJ was far from fine. That you’d hear him crying at night, muffled as he tried to wake you not knowing that you couldn’t sleep knowing he was outside the door crying and you couldn’t do anything to comfort him.
You’d tried asking him about it yourself. He simply acted like he didn’t know what you were talking about and you weren't one to push him. Not now, at least.
“He’s handling it all in his own way.” You reassured with mild uncertainty. “But I’ll keep an eye on him. How are you, though?”
The boy drew his lips into a thin line, tilting his head to the side in thought before shrugging and looking out at the fire in front of him. “I…don’t know.” He struggled out, almost as if he wasn’t completely sure of the words but also unsure if he was truly unsure. His brown eyes met yours, slightly glassed over with frustrated tears. “I really just don’t know.”
You gave him a pitiful smile before scooting closer and throwing your arm over his shoulders. The two of you sat in warm, content silence. In all your time of knowing Pope, he was never either fully closed off or openly emotional. He was the definition of a ticking time bomb — bottling everything up until he reached a certain breaking point. But this time, you’d figured he’d had all the meltdowns he could.
AS YOU APPROACHED THE HAMMOCK, another figure became clear next to JJ’s — Marley curled up in a sleeping ball of fur next to the blonde. You chuckled under your breath at the sight, nudging the swing with your knee to prompt JJ to open his eyes. The boy peeked one eye open before the other, eyes fleeting the yard at Pope and Kiara’s frames talking at the bonfire before returning to yours.
You took a seat on the grass in front of the hammock, looking up at JJ as he made the small effort to turn on his side to look down at you without disturbing the peaceful animal beside him.
“Done being the group therapist?” He yawned, pushing the blonde locs of hair out of his face. You simply shrugged, rubbing a hand across your forehead.
“Yeah, my office is closed.” You sighed, leaning back on your palms — small pebbles and mulch chips digging into them but you were too tired to care. “But you know I’m always willing to listen for you.” You said playfully, shooting the blonde a wink. He giggled in response, leaning forward in the hammock with one hand clutching it for support.
“You promised no pushing.” He mumbled sleepily.
“I’m not pushing.” You assured, throwing your hands up in surrender. “I’m just... politely suggesting that you open up to your best friend, is all.” You shrugged nonchalantly, pretending to pick at your nails.
“Right...how about we do a little switch-a-roo then, hm?” He threw out, shifting around once more in the hammock, eyes piercing yours. “How have you been? With everything. Bree, your mom…” He trailed off, eyes never leaving yours even though you avoided eye contact the moment he started listing issues. “I mean, The Chateau is nothing compared to your beachfront palace in Kooklandia. You gotta miss it sometimes. You’re telling me you never think about goin' home?”
You snarled, shrugging off his statement. “This is my home.” You declared, drifting your eyes upwards to connect with his, the amber glow of the bonfire making his eyes appear more green-toned than blue. “I never wanted to move to Figure Eight in the first place. I didn’t care about the ocean view or the fact that our living room and kitchen didn’t have to be one room anymore.” You explained, drawing shapes into the dirt. “I feel safe here.” You muttered. “I feel safer with you guys...”
He simply hummed and nodded in agreement. “I get that.” He sighed. “I feel the same about my house. I don’t really care that all my shit is there and that I have to sneak back and forth to get what I need. My dad… he makes me hate that house. And I hate myself for being able to hate the house because of him but not being able to hate him.”
“He’s your dad, though. It’s understandable. You feel like you should love him no matter what.”
“...Do you hate your mom?” You paused your drawing in the dirt to peer up at JJ through your lashes, his eyes wide and wondering. The question caused you to feel a way you’d never felt before. It was such a loaded question and even with everything that happened, you figured the answer should be easy but...it wasn’t. Saying that you hated your mother felt like venom on your tongue. Even if you knew you had every right to say that you did.
“No.” You sighed, tucking your hair behind your ears. “But, it’s like, I don’t love her either. I just…don’t recognize her anymore. In my eyes, she’s not my mother. But in my heart, she is and always will be. And I hate that.”
The two of you fell into silence after that, the only sound being cicadas and crickets. You directed your gaze up to the sky, counting the stars and silently acknowledging constellations while JJ kicked one leg out to swing the hammock gently as he stared up as well.
You figured the conversation ended there. It was getting late and you’d scored a babysitting gig for tomorrow that was paying good money. So, you figured heading to bed now was ideal because being late wasn't. You sighed, hands slapping your knees as you stood up with a groan, stretching as JJ’s eyes drifted to your frame.
“Well, I think my social battery has officially died.” You yawned, stepping closer to the blonde to ruffle his fluffy head of hair. “Night, blond-” You didn’t get the chance to finish your sentence before JJ’s hand was wrapping itself around your wrist, pulling you down until your faces were just centimeters apart, him taking the opportunity to connect your lips with his, placing his free hand on the nape of your neck.
Your eyes went impossibly wide as the blonde pressed his lips to yours firmly, his eyes closed blissfully. A normal, friendly reaction would be to push him away, to say that you shouldn’t be doing this. But the way he was kissing you..
It was like he’d been waiting his whole life to do it.
From the way his fingers dug into your skin to the amount of force he was using to hold you in place.
Something in you suddenly relaxed, allowing you to close your own eyes and move your lips to kiss him back. Your lips moved in perfect sync with his for the moment. But you figured it would be nothing but. This was JJ, your best friend. He knew you like the back of his-
Oh. Oh, God. You were kissing your best friend. You were kissing JJ.
You pulled back so fast you nearly stumbled over your own feet, head whipping around in panic to find Kie and Pope still engulfed in their own conversation before turning back to the starstruck blonde in front you. His hair was messy and his lips were swollen with a deep shade of red blooming within the lower one. His own blue eyes were wide but you didn’t know for what reason.
You just looked at each other with an unknown expression. Terror? Confusion?
Neither of you said anything, just stared at each other, panting in panic. Your heart was beating wildly out of your chest prompting you to adjust the neckline of your top away from your throat, the material suddenly feeling constricting.
You didn’t know what else to do so you did the only thing you could do.
Swallowing harshly and touching your aching, wet lips, you swiftly walked off in the direction of The Chateau. The last thing you heard was JJ call out your name one, heart aching time before the door of The Chateau closed behind you.
feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.
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#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank#svn#jj mayback x reader#jj mayback imagine#obx jj#jj maybank fluff#obx jj x reader#jj maybank smut#jj maybank x you#jj maybank imagine#obx jj maybank#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank outer banks#jj maybank angst#rudy pankow x reader#rudy outer banks#Spotify
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warnings : use of pet names , smut , fingering, stepbro yeonjun,not proofread,fingering and more idk :3
MDNI ! im not reponsible for what yall read here, sorry
yeonjun was a really nice personality infront of everyone , like as i mentioned but little do they know that jjun is and type of step brother who would fuck his step sis till she cant even walk , making her a mubbling mess and record all that shit and then jerk off to it then
. . . . . . .
yeonjun was an unvi going student mean while his step sis , you , were still in high school , one day you were hving trouble getting your bio test togther cuz it was tmrw and you understood ntg at all . so you thought how abt you go and ask yeonjun. you go up to yeonjun and ask for help and he thinks for sec.... and nob , you go and sit next to him on the bed for context ,you were wearing ur a loss shirt and shorts , you forward your bio books to him , for few mintues you glance at him and the book the entire time as yeonjun was rewinding it and then he nobs and starts to teach you what it was abt , you were trying your best to understand bu you could not stop your eyes to go down to his cock area since he was wearing gray trousers , he was explaining to you the chapter thinking your listening mean while your way too focused in his dick. your mouth a little open as your eyes were fixed on his covered dick under his grey trouser, he stopped talking as he noticed that you were busy focusing on smtg and as he realized where your gaze was at ,he chuckles softly and he gentally holds your chin and and makes you to look into his lustfully gaze
" sweetie are you even listening?"
he raises a brow with huge grin , your cheeks turn red out embarrassment, you quickly look away and palm your face as jjun slides his hand to your waist and goes near your neck, his sweet breathe hits your neck as he breathes you in and leave sweet kisses on your neck as you bite your lower lip to bite back a moan
"how come you smell so good my love "
i say againest your ear and kisses the lower area of it , you lean in to his touch too. he press againest you even more as you start to feel his wieght over you geting heavy and heavy as you finally rest you elbows befind you and he is now on the top of you as you stare at him with widen eyes as he leans in even more and your boths lips crashes on each others , he groans againest your lips as he starts to slide his left hand under your shirt as his other hand stays on your waist, his hand goes up your chest and unzip your bra and and takes it off but your shirt was still on , he toses the bra away and again slides his hand beneath your shirt and his lips go down your jaw as he kept massageing your breastes. you moan softly as he gone down your neck as his other hand which was on your waist goes down to your waist band of the shorts and takes them off of you and now you were wearing only a shirt , he pulls away and you open your eyes and look at him with your low eyes as his knuckles strokes gently on your inner thigh as uses his other hand to take off your shirt that you were wearing and his eyes were hungrily roaming on your tits as he leans in and kiss her collarbone as his hand which was on your inner thigh goes up and stops at your clit and slowly and at steady speed his starts to rub the area around it , pleasuring you so perfectly that you couldnt help but bite your lower lip and whine. he stops at kissing and sucking at your collarbone as he stare at your reaction licking his teeths while smirking widely as his fingers picked pace
" you like it ? huh ?"
he says chuckling , pretty much teasing you as you whined and moan at the sudden speed
he suddenly slipped his two fingers inside you and finger you at a intense speed as you moan louder and you throw your head back and your eyes roll back to your brain as your thighs tremble from the intense pleasure,you could feel your realse coming closer and closer as you could control anymore and squirt all over his lower abdemon as he laughed and grabed a tissue by the side table and clean himself a little and as he looked at you again , you were laying there all fcked out while laying on your stomach , you were already asleep from how intense that all was and he chuckled and toke out his phone and toke a photo of your fucked out face looking all cute ~~~
a/n : ummm i know i dissapointed yall umm yea 😍😍😍
#txt smut#txt hard hours#txt#yeonjun smut#txt hard thoughts#yeonjun#yeonjun hard hours#yeonjun hard thoughts
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DISPO
ellie williams x reader
『••✎••』 finally, time for date night. ellie takes you out to the busy city for a beautiful dinner that turns unraveling in many different ways. | WC: 9.0K
ೀ THIS IS A SERIES | FOR ALL PARTS GO HERE
SERIES MASTERLIST
ೀ PSA I LEFT YALL ON A CLIFFHANGER SORRY 👀 PLS DONT HATE ME
ೀ HEAVY FORESHADOWING ID SAY 😭 dispo is such a masterpiece of a song like can i eat the song ?
ೀ description: MODERN AU! CONVERSATIONS ABOUT HARD TOPICS (immigration, family death, bonding over trauma), HOMOPHOBIA AT THE END! IF THIS TRIGGERS U I ADVISE U NOT TO READ!TOXIC BEHAVIOR FROM EX SUGGESTIVE CONTENT ONLY! latina!reader, heavy description of reader having bronze/tawny skintone, mentions of smoking weed, mentions of reader’s insecurities, reader speaks spanish!, bff!dina, latino parents chismiando, brief background on toxic relationship, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF, immense flirting, heavy makeout sesh, groping, no use of y/n (use of mama, bonbóm)
CHAPTER THREE
ellie made her way back to the repair lot like she had just won the lottery.
all she did was throw the plastic store-bag onto Joel’s work desk the second she got back into the garage, completely ignoring Joel.
she immediately whipped out her phone to open your contact that she had been dying to open ages ago.
“earth to ellie williams-miller!” joel semi-shouts in an attenpt tone get her attention.
ellie was too busy typing her fingers away.
gatúbela 💋
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u will be seeing me there as a customer alot more ⤶ 6:00 PM
✉️ ᴮᵉᵉᵖ..! one messageˎˊ˗
6:02 PM ⤷ i can get used 2 u as a regular ;)
ellie was cheesing at her phonescreen like a kid with their first phone.
can i call u later tonight? ⤶ 6:04 PM
6:05 PM ⤷ yess ill lyk when i get off work
get home safe ⤶ 6:06 PM
6:07 PM ⤷ ay ay captain 🫡
you both went home that night to enjoy a 3 hour phone call.
you both didn’t get any rest that night.
every morning felt like a blessed morning, especially waking up to a text from miss Ellie Williams-Miller.
you had learned her full name when you exchanged each other’s a few nights ago during your endless phone call with the inamoratà.
she was chivalrous and sweetly coltish.
she captivated you in such a manner, you never thought you could feel so whole before.
she had you smitten and you didn’t even notice.
Dina didn’t miss a single second of every moment. the way she couldn’t tear you away from your phone even during your shared daily binge of ‘Vanderpump Rules’ together.
Dina will never forgot that night you came back to Dina’s apartment from working at the convenience store. you had came through the front door, dropping your purse on the ground before screaming like bloody-murder.
Dina ran out of her room frantically to find her bestfriend capering around before twirling with her hands in the air “okay okay! just needed to get that out ma’system!” you exhale out, stopping in place like you were im the middle of a stage; performing.
you connected your excited eyes with Dina’s “are you on crack?” Dina asks you jokingly.
you chuckled “you won’t believe who just happened to walk up into store!” your question being rhetorical as your face beamed as you throw yourself onto her couch.
“i’m listening!” you spent the entire night, staying up and talking to Dina about how Ellie just managed to run into where you work.
༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻
all of your mornings for a month now have consisted of dulcet messages from ‘green eyes’. you refer to the contact you gave her.
you would wake up and do your usual morning routine which now had one extra add-on to every part of your routine.
each moment was complimented by a graceful reminder of Ellie as you woke with a ping from your phone; knowing it was her.
she would call you while you made breakfast and ever since, she face-timed you once on accident in the middle of your morning toke; she now calls every 12 pm to smoke with you through face-time.
you both only really had time to talk as you both got busy quickly. especially since you learned that working at Joel’s car-shop is very time-consuming, ellie went on about one day.
Ellie moved to your hometown from Jackson five years ago which completely explained the country accent she carried in her voice.
she emphasized on how Joel got a job opportunity to be able to open up his own shop with his brother that had moved out here with his wife.
she told you about how moving to help him by working at the car-shop taught her a lot of patience. Ellie was very patient and percise about the things she did, it became a habit to do even outside of work.
ellie was probably also one of the greatest listeners you’ve ever met because when she listened, she understood.
she understood you.
even if it was through the phone, depicting her facial expression through a pixelated screen. ellie’s facial expressions never faltered from intentive and enthralled.
she understood the fact that when you told her you lived with your parents still.
how personally, you just couldn’t call all those times she asked as you were dying to answer.
she never pushed for questions out of you, allowing you to give her any information you chose to give her.
she just complimented you almost like it was perfect.
although she approached you with a more somewhat open-book while you reserved yourself a bit more, Ellie didn't mind it at all.
she was patient. very patient.
༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻
you both had planned to go out together ages ago but it felt like the universe just loved to fuck with you.
the day you were supposed to go on the date with Ellie. you had spent your entire morning on Face-Time with Dina, trying to find out what to wear.
you had told your mom you were going out with a new friend you made last night. of course, latino parents cant help the chisme.
“si si, no, estoy feliz de que ella empiece a sentirse mejor después de ese chico ay,”( yea yea, no, im glad shes starting to feel better after that boy, ay)
“sí, saldrá con un amiga esta noche, está muy emocionada!” (yes, shes going out with a friend tonight, shes really excited!)
why was this bad? well because somehow-someway during all the chismiando between your family, it got to your ex’s family.
this later on resulted to him showing up to your work, trying to find you to talk fifteen minutes after you had just clocked out. you end up getting a call from your tía saying that "he needed to talk to you" which only made your heart anguish.
needless to say, the families were still in-close contact even with the messy break-up. the only reason is because you basically grew up with your bitch-ass ex.
he was your family friend for so many years, but it was so cute and innocent the little crush you had on him for years. you even went to the same schools together; both of your parents wanted you together, in a sense.
it was planned and as you got older, you began to realize.
he was your first everything.
anything you could think of, he was the one to cross it off your list. you can't say you regret it or anything because it was a love that festered for ages between the both of you. you just couldn't compare your relationship with him to much other romantic experiences.
he was all you knew.
while you all the people you knew were hooking up, experiencing different 'situationships'.
you didn't feel left out because it wasn't the 'hooking up and different talking stages'. it was the fact that the times that your ex did leave you; stating he needed a 'break' to do god knows what...
the 'men'.... if you could even call them that by the way they handled themselves. they weren't worthy, not even a moment of your time.
it was tiring and you found your eye-candy would be women, but you were too oblivious to know. you wouldn't realize the lingering stares and double-takes you would do whenever you found a woman attractive without thinking.
that being said, before time came to close of going out on that date with the woman you had growing adoration for because of how panicky you grew.
you hated breaking the news to Ellie, having to tell her family came up although you ended up calling her an hour later till midnight.
you were beyond alarmed now, knowing your ex had tried to reach you.
༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻
regardless of all the 'bullshit' and Ellie picking up extra hours at the shop, you both finally were going on that date.
a part of you was slightly grateful for the delay, you got to be in her presence more; getting the chance to learn more about her.
you had spent the whole week preparing yourself. you didn't need any help getting ready, you were a pro in that department. you were mentally preparing yourself; preparing yourself to have a good dinner like you've never done that with someone before.
you've been on dates, but you wouldn't even pack your appetizer to go, not even getting a proper entree because you knew you would leave the table and that brainless moron before you even got your first bite in.
if we were to talk about dates with your ex, that is one thing you for sure both didn't do on dates; was talk. you would just sit there in silence enjoying the meal that you didn't have to pay for, that is one thing you will miss.
green eyes 🍀
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goodmorning stinky ⤶ 11:11 AM
✉️ ᴮᵉᵉᵖ..! one messageˎˊ˗
11:11 AM ⤷ foodmorning smelly
⤷ goodmorning** am i ur wish ☺️
corny ahh ⤶ 11:12 AM
but yes u are will u make it come true :3 ⤶
11:13 AM ⤷ u will jus have to find outt wont ya
ouu surprises u rlly tryna butter me up ⤶ 11:13 AM
11:14 AM ⤷ if u probs punched me
⤷ id lowk like it
??? 😭 shut up idiot ⤶ 11:15 AM
when shall i be ready by ma’am ? ⤶
11:15 AM ⤷ its hot when u speak like we in old times
⤷ how long do u need mama ?
ur making me blush oh my oh my ⤶ 11:17 AM
jkjk i get off work today at 2:30 ⤶
just an hour will be good :) is 4:30 okay with u ? ⤶
11:18 AM ⤷ cus of ur sarcasm i give u 15 mins 🤗
⤷ 4:30 is perfect i dont have work today so im all urs
haha hilarious ⤶ 11:19 AM
thank you for the ride :) i rlly appreciate it ⤶
11:20 AM ⤷ shhh
⤷ ofc like a real gentlewoman ‼️✂️
⤷‼️‼️*** THAT WAS NOT ON PURPOSE
⤷ im gonna kms
oh ellie baby u need a new phone or sum ⤶ 11:20 AM
but yes a real gentlewoman indeed ✂️ ⤶
i gtg :( ill ttyl green eyes ⤶
11:21 AM ⤷ ihy but lmk gorgeous
⤷ ill see u soon
💋 ⤶ 11:21 AM
“jesus! back up, you lookin’ mad scary” Dina’s voice rings through the speaker of your phone, bringing your attention back to the Face-Time you were on with her.
you let out a playful scoff as you got up from laying down on your bed "let me guess, Ellie?" Dina chimes in as she sees the way you were cheesing at your phone.
"yeah....." you let out a pleasant sigh like some toddler who finally got the ice cream they spent all day begging for.
"yeah-if you don't take your gay ass to work" Dina giggles out, mocking your tone at first "oh whatever! I'll call you later, pendeja" you giggle out with her before hanging up the phone and getting ready for work.
you swallowed the uneasy gut feeling in your stomach, putting music on before you began to put your hair up. you weren't going to let your paranoia and emotions get the best of you.
༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻
work was longer than expected, you practically watched the clock tick with anticipation. you couldn't wait to clock out, quite literally run home, and get dolled up.
you don't remember the last time you got so euphoric over a date, the overwhelming excitement and nervousness brining your mental back getting ready for your first date ever; except you felt yourself even more overjoyed than the first.
since you were a kid, you loved dress-up. if it was one thing for certain about yourself, it was what you wanted and how you wanted it. you carried yourself in your appearance, making it your amor.
even in your most weak moments, you will admit that your look never failed to loom out. people were never ever able to tell when you were depressed or angry; masked perfectly by your bold makeup and clothing.
your outstanding clothing making up for your lack of self-assurance, never letting anyone even think for a second that you weren't full of experiences due to your confident personality.
people wouldn't be able to understand you, simply due to the fact that although you haven't lived much to find your inner identity. you knew who you who you were still in some imbalanced messy way. it didn't matter to a person at surface level because of your menacing demeanor, automatically making them nervous under your tigress gaze.
your ex began to hate it at some point as he found your vixen-self threatening to his masculinity. after two years of being together, you noticed how he began to try to control what you wear and how you did your makeup by trying to have a 'say' in what you wore.
when you never let it happen, you picked up on his automatic distance and at some point, even beginning to slut-shame you as way of insulting you.
the only reason you didn't like it was because of how you could pull anyone away from him, taking all his cheating ways away.
this feeling Ellie erupted in your soul, it was better than all your first's.
once you arrived home, walking in through the front door as you quickly greeted your parents before making your way up to your bedroom. you took your phone and sent a message to Ellie, letting her know you were home.
you immediately got to calling Dina as you began to shuffle through all the clothing in your closet. you wanted to wear something valiant but not flashy.
you began to throw out of their hanger's different assortments of bottoms, dresses, and different shirt combinations; soon your floor was covered in different clothing ideas.
"I don't want to wear something that makes her think I'm a hooker" you explain to your best friend through the phone as you showed her the past 10 different outfit options.
"girl, the options weren't even that raunchy! hmm, I say-the cheetah dress!" Dina affirms pleasantly through the phone screen. you pick up the skin-tight tube-slip dress to try it on once more.
it was covered in the cheetah print pattern, it made your body eccentricate as the dress hugged your curves and stopped at perfect mid-thigh length.
the dress brought out all your features perfectly. the print pattern complimented your tawny skin and stopped right above the chest, hugging your torso completely.
it was simple yet a statement piece.
you thought it wasn't too party-like nor too fancy while you checked yourself out in your long mirror "that's the one! pair it with a coat!" Dina cheers as you spin around for her in the camera's view for her approval.
"okay with what shoes!?" you ask you began to look for a coat to match with your dress.
Dina continued to help you put your entire outfit together. she helped you end up choosing your black platform slip mary-janes with a beige jean coat that had furry lining inside of the jacket.
you began to do your signature makeup look, your eyes never without the thick long black wing as your golden highlighter created a halo for your natural illumination from your bronze tone.
you added a muted pink blush to your face to cause the perfect hue on your cheeks before sealing your makeup look all together with your iconic cocoa lipliner, applying your lip combo.
you started looking through all your gold jewels, trying to find decide which jewelry would be perfect for this outfit. you choose these gold earrings that dangled, scattering your fingers with thick gold rings, and your neck being complimented by your golden rosario's and small shining medallions.
by the time you were ready, 4:30 rolled around in no time.
༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻
you puffed on the joint that you hastily rolled in a way to calm your nerves before Ellie arrived, you were leaning against the bay window inside your living room as you dozed off into the front street of your house through the open window. you began to think about all the possible ways this night; alone with her could go.
just the thought alone could have shivers running up your spine as your stomach was queasy with butterflies. once you finished your joint, you seen a black car pull up to the front of your house, not even two minutes later; your phone rang out a ping.
you quickly checked yourself out once more before retouching any makeup you felt needed. you made your way to your front door, kissing your mom goodbye before walking out.
you felt and heard your heart pound against your chest with each step, you were thankful for that smoke break or else you would've been sweating right now. your body felt hot and flushed; you haven't even seen the woman yet.
༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻
Ellie smiled at the little notification of your message from only a couple minutes ago before staying keeping an eye on your front-door.
Ellie was trying her hardest to swallow her nerves, she could only reminisce on the all the trouble she went through to even get an outfit that she thought was 'good enough'.
she made a mess of her room before just shoving it all to the side as she began to straighten her hair and throwing it up into a lazy half up-half down.
as Ellie was lost in thought, she peeped from the corner of her eye your silhouette from outside of her tinted car window get closer. Ellie wasted no time in opening her car door, stepping outside.
she left her door open as she made her way over to you.
the second Ellie's eyes fell onto you, it felt like the entire world stopped.
gorgeous wasn't even enough of a word to describe the way you looked.
you looked purely otherworldly, like you had been descended from Cleopatra herself.
Ellie was at a loss of words, your beauty completely striking the words right out her mouth as her steps haltered at the front of the passenger car-door. your prepossessing glamour completely capturing her as her eyes sparkled at you in awe.
but she wasn't the only one who was drooling.
your lip began to tingle in pain as you bit onto it, trying to stop your mouth from falling open as you shamelessly gawked at her. you didn't even notice her checking you out as you were doing the exact same thing.
Ellie was wearing a white crop top that stopped at the lower of her stomach, completely hugging her chest as the muscles of her arms flexed a bit as her hands were tugged away into the pocket of her fitted corduroy dress pants that bagged at the bottom. it was complimented by a black belt with a silver thick buckle, her semi-long crop top flowing above her dress pants perfectly.
she had an assortment of silver rings decorating her long fingers as her tattooed arms had a couple of different bracelets hugging each wrist and her infamous converse.
"oh fuck" you couldn't help but let your thoughts be audible as the light of the sunset now completely dawned on the both of you.
the way the sun sparkled onto her freckles, gleaming her green-hazel eyes while her hair was thrown up into the cutest hairstyle. Ellie was completely mesmeric, craving her completely.
your out-loud thought seemed to snap Ellie out of her own mesmerized daze. she threw you an awkward smile before opening the car-door to the passenger "just for you" Ellie slys out, trying to stop her breath from hitching.
you made her a complete mess under your gaze.
the sentence that fell from her delectable lips chimed through your ears like the melody of a song.
"why thank you" you say sweetly, your smile being slightly shy as you ducked into the passenger seat of her car as Ellie made her way back into the driver's seat.
"soo where are you taking me?"
you question once she was sat in the seat with a smile on your face "there's this fancy place-Joel recommended it t'me, it has a good selection of different cuisines." Ellie explains, her attention completely on you as her eyes can't help but continue to rake throught your body.
your heart fluttered, she really put alot of effort into this evening. it's not like you didn't think that she wasn't going to take you out somewhere nice but you just didn't think she would put so much thought by even going to ask Joel for advice.
you found is so sweet how she thought ahead and methodically by even choosing a place that didn't have a specific selection of food; not wanting to force you to eat anything you didn't like.
you were an observant person just as much as Ellie was, it was one thing that made you guys connect on a different level. you guys couldn't hide from each other as you both felt every emotion that radiated off each other.
she cared, she put everything together carefully.
"if that's not okay! we-we can go anywhere you want!" Ellie grew nervous as you stared at her, scared you weren't going to like her plans "oh! shut up Williams, i love it." you giggle out, reaching a hand over to put a finger in between her lips naturally before removing it but still slightly leaned into the atmosphere of her seat.
"you look-phew-there isn't even a word for how stunning you look" the compliment was sincere as she leaned into you more, closing the space between you two; not even thinking as she just completely soaked you in like her you were her biggest blessing.
she made you fall into putty with the flattery Ellie rushed into you "it's sexy knowing that we both smoked before this" you joke out, trying ease the overwhelming emotion fulfilling your insides as you could smell the mango cigarillo on her from the blunt she smoked earlier.
Ellie chuckles out which is only music to your ears "you look really amazing, els" your tone sheeped out as you continued the close intimacy between the both of you. the nickname fell from your lips like you had been saying it your whole life.
the tension was thick and oozing.
Ellie bit her lip in between her teeth as she couldn't help but give a big smile before looking away from your enchanting eyes.
"you ready for our date?" Ellie boosts like a little kid, it was the first time she had put so much effort into taking care and taking anyone out. she used to mainly go on cafe dates or to the movies because you barely had to talk.
this time was completely different, you were like a diamond in a sea of rocks.
Ellie felt the need to give you the best of her.
"I've never been more ready for anything."
༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻
you finally pulled up to the restaurant, the valet at front leading you to the reserved parking lot once the valet person handed Ellie her ticket. you insisted on paying for parking, but Ellie didn't even give you a meer second to dig into your black mini purse after making the suggestion.
"its only $20, don't worry about it" was all she said, her hand touching yours reassuringly.
you would never know it, but each extra hour Ellie picked up slaving away at black grease and car parts was going to be worth every penny spent on you; together tonight.
the car ride was beyond delightful as you and Ellie practically shared the same music taste, even putting her onto some old Spanish songs as she admired the way your voice sung each lyric; even trying to say a couple of the lyrics as you encouraged her.
"did you learn English or Spanish first?"
Ellie asked more questions about your ethnic background.
yes, she knew where your parents were from since you told her during one of the many Face-Time calls, but she wanted to know more about your personal experiences with your culture.
you thought it was sweet the blithesome demeanor she had when indulged into you every time you spoke.
you both bounced off each other, your energies working together as the natural flow of your egos meet like magnets, there was no worry about how you both looked to one another, no worries that anything you might say or do is wrong; Ellie didn't make you second-guess your own being as you didn't make Ellie over-analyze everything.
you both brought out the best and drowned out the hardest parts of the both of you.
the restaurant was located inside of a wide outside mall that had an area full of different dining places.
when Ellie parked the car in the open parking lot, she got out of the car and immediately went to open your door like the 'gentlewoman' she was.
she grabbed your hand as you put your two feet out, stepping each one down elegantly onto the outside pavement as her hand helped you up and out of her car before proceeding to shut the door closed for you.
you smoothed out your dress once you stood up as Ellie's hand rested on the small of your back comfortingly, your stomach was doing cartwheels and all types of fucking flips.
you both walked in through the front doors, close together as you are immediately greeted by the hostess.
"Hello there, good evening! do one of you have a reservation with us tonight?" the blonde woman asks as she smiles sweetly between the both of you "Yes, that'd be me. It's under 'Ellie Miller'" she replied.
you smiled at how she shorten her name which she only looked over to return sheepishly "perfect! follow me" the blonde hostess exclaims as she grabbed two menu's and began to lead you to your table.
༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻
your table was a semi-booth, more tucked to the corner yet still in the semi-center of the extended restaurant walls.
the table was decorated with lit candles and a small-dangly chandelier above the both of you. the restaurant had fake vines all around the shelving's and ceiling. the place had a classical fairy-burrow esque to it.
the lighting was warm and dim, not overpowering the both of you at all as the rest of the restaurant blended into a shadow by the strong illumination from only the lit candles at your table, highlighting the both of you for only each other.
"I absolutely adore this place, thank you for taking me here." you were slightly awe-struck. sure, Cheesecake Factory is alright, but this wasn't just about the location.
it was how she was the one to take you here.
"I'm happy you like it, it looks better than in the pictures" Ellie jokes out as she held the menu in her hand, not even looking at it. you giggle out, playfully smacking the small of her hand.
you both began to scroll through the menu together, going over each thing as Ellie asked for your intel for anything your finger lingered on.
Ellie was also slightly becoming indecisive between the options she had her eyes on. almost naturally, you scoot closer into her, legs completed pushed up against each other, and snaking an arm around Ellie without a thought.
as you were helping her choose the waiter finally arrives.
"Hello ladies, how can i help you-" the waiter stops talking the second you both look up at him.
he was a tall man that had dreads falling down his face, concealing it slightly as you couldn't quite get a good look at his face, his tall frame and elegant work suit only in lighting's view.
you could see by the glint of the candles, the way his expression changed but his eyes weren't peeled onto the both of you. they were trained onto you.
there was this unruly tension that began to form and engulf the atmosphere.
you could feel the way his eyes glared into you, only you. you watched through the shitty lighting how his forehead creased, and his eyebrows snapped together before abruptly clearing his throat.
"So sorry! Good evening are you ready to order?" the tone wasn't the same although he excused himself, there was this dead and forced tone talking to the both of you.
you watched the way his eyes fell onto Ellie, feeling uneasy about the whole thing.
"mhm your excused, i would like the Chicken Tikka-Masala with seasoned rice. then for my girl-" Ellie tone came off as stand-offish, she wasn't oblivious to the actions of the waiter for whatever reason for his actions.
she gave you a soft smile as you began to order your dish of choice.
the waiter didn't say anything, completely noting down your order in silence as your eyed burned into him. there was something about him that itched you. not in a good way at all.
you tried to focus your vision and brain on him while trying not to alarm Ellie, it was like it was on the tip of your tongue.
he seemed familiar, he felt familiar.
your mind couldn't put a pin on it but this subconscious familiarization with him slowly begins to bubble a small anxiety inside you.
just like that, he walks away; not giving a second glance to either of you.
'if i could've only read his nametag' you thought.
"poor waiter was checking you out" Ellie teases causing you slightly giggle but you were too alarmed to give a genuine reaction.
that man was definitely not checking you out.
༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻
Ellie was quick to make all that anxiety and harrowing thoughts vanish within the blink of your eye.
your meals were brought out to you with no problem by some polite woman, completely forgetting about the man as now all you could think about was the woman you were on this splendid date with.
the conversations were deep as you both died to know more like you were each other's favorite subjects. the both of you were so enthralled between the conversations you shared and the growing sexual tension.
you felt at such ease with her, Ellie could even help you open up about topics that you considered "hard to talk about" for the longest.
it was your very first date with her and you were already each-other's open-books.
you opened up to her more about your family. you told her about how your parents were immigrants and the second you turned 18 and your older sister was 25 and wanted to start her family; they put your childhood home under your name which is why you still lived with them.
you felt safe as you unraveled yourself. she listened to every family story, even the 'bad' ones.
you bonded over your family businesses and passion for one another's hobbies. you learned how she loved to play the guitar besides art, she also knew a lot about naturalism and camping.
you loved hearing her talk about her love for the outdoors, one of her stories being how she took a road trip with Joel once all the way to California for one of her birthday's; just so she could see the ocean.
Ellie opened up about how it was like growing up without ever getting to know her mom due to her passing.
you both didn't feel the need to hide the ugly from each other as you both indulged in it, not a single ounce of judgement or need for questioning.
you both just heard each other as your souls sang together.
you even enjoyed your meal in silence, usually hard topics could create a uneasy or awkward tone for the rest of the night but instead you both thought your meals were even more delightful.
there wasn't an ounce of awkwardness in the silence while you enjoyed your Indvidual meals; or insecurities between the two of you as you both made each other feel imperfectly perfect.
"wanna try some of mine, bombón?" the new little term of endearment fell naturally from your lips which caused the softest pink hue spread over Ellie's cheeks, barely visible.
"I don't know what that means but I love it." Ellie beams as she answers your question with the action of leaning her head closer for the spoonful of your food that you were holding on your utensil.
you giggle out as you feed her the spoonful as you take her in while she was leaned in this close to your face.
as you got closer to finishing your meals, you both reminisced about high school years. Ellie told you about how she picked up basketball which has the fault for the number of wife-beaters she owns. you told her about how you used to play volleyball. you were actually the best on the team because you were one of the only ones who knew how to do a proper carry. you only did volleyball till your senior year where Dina convinced you to join the Dance Team with her.
"oh, I need to know about those dance days!" Ellie cheered out as she gave you a playful smirk "well, where did you think I picked up those little moves from?" you leaned into her ear as you spoke lowly, your tone turning suggestive. frankly, as much as you hate to admit it. you aren't stupid to the fact that just Ellie giving you one look had your arousal, as a matter of fact, dripping.
Ellie was on the exact energetic page as you, the hazel in her eyes darken as her eyes pour into you "ah I see, I wonder what else you can show me" Ellie shamelessly flirted with you.
if both meals were done; Ellie was ready to handle the check and get you all to herself.
"depends baby, whatcha' tryna see?" your tone was laced with pure sexual insinuation as your lips brushed against her ear, causing shivers down her spine. Ellie leaned herself into you more before turning her head to be face-to-face with you; your lips brushing together.
you couldn't hear the way your hearts palpitate together in sync, only hearing each other's own individual hearts boom as you both become insatiable for each other.
"is it okay if I fix myself up in the restroom while you pay? will you meet me there?" your tone was only seductive and teasing as you took your hand to caress her lower thigh.
"go on mama, don't worry" her voice was barely above a whisper against your lips, you smile against them slightly before pecking them softly.
all she could do was watch as you. the way your ass hugged that dress as your tits perked up as you sat up, the way your bronze legs stepped away from her while you made your way to the ladies room.
Ellie eyes that were trained on your body walking away from her was obstructed by the tall waiter from before. this time he was standing closer, and Ellie got to get a better look at him.
"ready for the check?"
"yes, that would be amazing."
Ellie couldn't help but give the man a mean stare at the man as she signed off the check before placing her card into the checkbook.
he left without a word but took a double look, noticing how you werent sitting next to her.
once the check made its way back, Ellie didn't waste any time on making her way to that restroom.
༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻
while you were in the restroom, you quickly touched up your lip combo; hoping for it only get ruined.
soon enough, Ellie walked through the restaurant bathroom door. you made eye contact with her before walking off into a stall. you shut the stall door behind you, but you didn't lock it.
of course, Ellie follows; this time actually locking the door behind her. she stalked her way closer to you as you were up against the fancy bathroom wall, shit even the stall had its own mirror.
she got closer and closer to you, only speaking up once she was face-to-face with you again.
"for someone who's never been with a girl before, you seem to know the gay agenda very well" Ellie couldn't help but joke although her face had a smirk smeared all over it.
the little sly remark that left her lips caused your cheeks to flush.
your arms wrap around Ellie's neck, pulling her closer to you "I've never been actively gay, but I should've known when I used to watch "The L word" when everyone was asleep in high school..." you grin, you were kind-of joking.
Ellie lets out a laugh "oh yeah mama, you are definitely into women." you smack her chest teasingly with a smile which she only softly grips your wrist, pulling you into her. now chest-to chest as your faces skim against each other.
♫₊˚.🎧 now playing: DISPO
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
"kiss me" it wasn't a question; it was more like a wish.
a wish you knew Ellie would grant whenever you wanted.
"your wish is my command, mama."
♫ ¿qué le habrán hecho a esa bebé? que está rebelá
no le gustaba antes prender
y ahora sin miedo quema
¿será que terminó con él? ♫
Ellie's lips waste no time in hastily meeting yours. the kiss was automatically filled with passion, finally relieving all the tension that oozed between the two of you for the whole evening; falling into the night.
Ellie's tongue swiped against the bottom of your lip softly causing you to let out a stifled whimper, she pulls away momentarily "ya'like that?" she teases, she knows you like it. she wants to hear you say it.
♫ ta dura la bebé, puesta pa ella, se le ve
que ella sabe lo que tiene
por cómo lo mueve ♫
you aren't the type to submit easily but god this time, every part of you was ready to do everything and anything she told you.
you still aren't the type to submit even as her hands raked up and down your back as her tongue loosens your lips ever-so-softly.
"mhmm" you let out threw a bit lip as your eyes hazed out as her lips continued their blissful synchronized rhythm.
"use your words" Ellie divulged.
"i-i like it when you kiss me-when y'kiss me, els" your voice fainted out as it slightly whimpered with the pecks that were being left alongside your face, down to your neck.
'when y'kiss me, els' your whimper replayed in her mind over and over again, like a broken record.
♫ salió a la disco a pasarla rico, a janguear
ahora está dispo, pero no cualquiera le da ♫
Ellies hands went from holding your back to now squeezing the thick flesh of your hips as her clothed corduroy leg came in-between your exposed legs while she leaned into you, burrowing her face into your neck.
Ellie's pecks quickly became open-mouthed kisses as she basically attacked your neck with her lips. she was determined on finding your sweet spot with each kiss she left on your neck, tainting you with her.
every single little suck and kiss from Ellie was a choked moan or luscious snivel. you couldn't help but squirm in her encaged embrace as her palms were flat against the wall, on each side of your head.
"aye milagro!" you lewdly moan out, you removed one of your arms from around Ellie's neck to cover your mouth with your hand. you could feel the smirk that took over her lips once she pulled away.
there it is.
♫¿qué tú crees, bebé?, a ver, olvídate de él
cho-cho-chócame, yo me pierdo en tu piel ♫
she attaches her lips to the nape of your neck which is where lied your sweet spot, softly sucking as you rustled your body against her.
the fabric of her corduroy pants rubbing the slightest bit against your soaked panties.
"hmm, ya'like that too?" Ellie lets out a content hum as she pulls away, continuing her teasing innuendos.
Ellie was a gentleman; she wasn't going fuck you on the first date.
but she knew to bring you otherworldly pleasure beyond just the sexual level.
"mm-yes!" your moan was rushed and hushed as you spoke against your mouth. you loved anything Ellie did to you like a drug, like you had gotten a taste of your own personal crack-cocaine.
Ellie's hands have now made their way to your ass, fondling the flesh through your tight printed dress as it began to ride up with each squirm you let out.
"tell me mama, has he kissed you here?" the question was sincere, Ellie wanted to learn about all of you.
"shut up els, please-do it again" you pleaded as the smallest pout fell upon your lips yet your cat-eyes burning into Ellie's dark and hazed out eyes.
"what did he do to you mama, makin' you fight all this pleasure? he ain't know what to do with all this, hm?" Ellie's demeanor became slightly dominant.
"what makes you think you can you handle me?" you put up a challenge as you picked up on the change, liking it.
she was right, he had never paid delectable attention to the sweet nape of your neck like she just did, but you would make Ellie earn that information.
Ellie didn't say anything, she only harshly squeezed your ass causing a dirty smile to tug your lips as you slightly spread your legs for her knee to fall into your arousal, pressing the forming heat between your legs against her clothed knee.
"believe me mama, once you're all mine. you gon'forget all about him-" she began to ramble against your skin as her lips brushed against each exposed area.
"I can't get emasculated by the fact my baby so strong, the way that body moves-" Ellie continued, squeezing your ass once more when saying "that body" as she pulls you even closer to her, completely off the bathroom wall and chest-to-chest with her.
"I'll get lost in all of your power and beauty, m'not no dumbass-i'll be your throne." Ellie devoted herself to you.
"and exactly for all that, our time will be a lot more special than this restaurant bathroom" Ellie finishes, leaving one last peck on your neck and shoulder before leaning back up to meet your lips with hers.
your heart was overpouring as she fixed your dress for you and even began to carry your mini purse for you.
you think you just fell in love, no. you know you just fell in love.
༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻
you were both making your way out of the ladies' restroom 20 minutes later, hand in hand.
as you both were making your way to the front of the restaurant doors, you caught a quick glance at the male waiter from earlier which he didn't miss. you turn your head away without a second thought or care for who the man was.
Ellie reaches for the door handle, getting ready to step out.
except a voice calls out abruptly.
"excuse me!?"
you and Ellie's head snap back towards his direction. Ellie stopped herself from pulling the door open, her hand not leaving the handle.
"i wonder how he would feel if he knew his girl was a dyke"
before you knew it, you were seeing red.
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#ellie williams#ellie williams smut#ellie tlou smut#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams the last of us#ellie williams fluff#the last of us fandom#ellie williams series#lesbian#GATÚ🌺
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Got Your Number
Summary: You’re Steve Harrington’s older sister and after a rough and tumultuous breakup, you’re back in Hawkins, Indiana. 🌶️
Pairing: Harrington!reader x Eddie Munson
Author’s notes: I mean, it’s only been a few months. 🫠
Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI!!), touch of drunk!asshole!eddie in this one, sorry 😞, language, drinking, smoking, panic attack described, mentions of past abusive relationship, shitty parent relationship, some smut, mention of reader’s period, and mention of drunk throwing up. Sounds like a fun chapter, xoxo
Word count: 7K (I’m rly sorry but I am too tired for a taglist tonight and it’s been so long half of yall probably have changed your usernames LOL)
V.
You and Eddie stumbled into his room, where he pushed you backwards onto his messy bed where you’d both slept the night before. He crawled over you, looking down at you with the same hungry eyes he had last night at the bar- the look sent your stomach into a fit of butterflies.
“I can’t believe I let last night happen.” You groaned as Eddie placed rough kisses on your neck, his scruff that showed up overnight was tickling you.
“What, do you regret it already?” He went from hungry for you to panicked- quick.
“No, no. I don’t mean that. I can’t believe our first time together was in the bathroom of a bar.”
“I just couldn’t wait to get you home.” He resumed the attack on your neck and you tugged at his sides as he left marks on top of the ones from last night. “Knew you’d be a good girl for me.” A gasp escaped your lips, and he swallowed it with a kiss. “You like that, yeah? Being called a good girl?”
You nodded, embarrassed, “Never been called that before.”
“But you like it?” His fingers had found their way below his boxers you'd slept in last night to find your already wet cunt dripping. “That’s my good girl.” You moaned as he lazily rubbed circles into your clit, your hips moving around looking for more traction.
“Fuck, your fingers are so good.” You said with your eyes squeezed tight, and Eddie slipped two inside of you, pumping in and out at a slow and steady pace. “Faster!” A whimper evaded your lips as he kept the slow pace.
“Nu-uh, I’m taking my time with you this morning, sweetheart.” You lifted your hips up and pushed the fabric down your legs as he continued to please you and spread your legs out so he could be in a better position. “Oh, fuck.” Eddie said as he looked down, “You’re uh, you’re bleeding.” He pulled his fingers out of you to reveal red stained fingers and your face immediately flushed a matching shade of red.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” You carefully pushed up and were quickly pushed back down to the pillows.
“I started something, I’m gonna finish. I’m not afraid of a little blood.” He was then hovering over you, “is that alright?”
You nodded, because honestly everything felt better when you were on your period. You’d never had sex with Charlie on it, but you’d masterbated by yourself in the shower and everything was way more sensitive.
“I-If you don’t mind, but if you-”
“I got you halfway there, I can’t leave you high and dry now, can I, baby?” He thrusted his fingers in and out of you a little quicker, earning moans from you. Your hands made their way to your chest, clutching at your sensitive breasts. “Yeah, keep doing that. God, you look so pretty like this. Pull on your nipples for me.” He was biting at your earlobe next, and you were writhing underneath him at the sensations going through your body right now.
“Fuck, I’m so close, Eddie!” You squeezed and pinched at your tits, they were so sensitive and hard underneath your shirt.
“Be a good girl for me and cum, make more of a mess on my hand.” You felt your climax hit you as your hips stuttered against Eddie’s hand and he let you ride out your high, then you collapsed back onto his bed.
“I don’t even want to look. I’m so embarrassed.” You flung your arm over your eyes as your panting turned into normal breaths, and Eddie quickly left and returned back to you with clean hands.
“Nothing to be embarrassed about, sweets.” He plopped on the bed beside you and placed his hand on your soft tummy and kissed you on the head, “didn’t even get it on my sheets either.”
“Must’ve just started.” You mumbled as you sat up and spotted your purse where you kept extra feminine products just in case, and you cleaned yourself up in the bathroom and returned back to the bed where Eddie was lounging.
“Sorry, we can, uh, do something later for you-”
“I’m fine, I promise. I still have some free time before going into work today if you want to just hang out here.”
Eddie’s nightmare had woken you both up pretty early, and you didn’t feel your best from your night of drinking, so a slow morning sounded great.
“Wanna talk about the nightmare you had now that you’re calmed down?” You daringly asked, looking over at him as he shut his eyes tight.
Eddie sighed and pinched his nose, “Not really, no. But I guess I should catch you up a little better than your brother and I probably have, you deserve to know everything.”
You turned on your side and grabbed his hand and held it in yours, bringing his knuckles to your lips where you placed a gentle kiss. “You don’t have to, but I’m here to listen.”
“I don’t- I don’t really talk about it much with anyone except your brother anymore. Or Dustin sometimes if something comes up.” He sighed and opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling. “So I’ll just start back at the beginning, you probably know most of this. After a Hellfire meeting and a basketball game one night, I had Chrissy Cunningham come over to the trailer because she said she wanted some drugs and I didn’t carry anything more than weed on me. I went into my room, came out and saw Chrissy… levitating in my living room, and watched as her bones cracked and her eyes bled out from her eye sockets. She died right in front of me. I still see it all of the time. In my dreams, a-and sometimes even just if I close my eyes for too long I get flashbacks of it. Then I just fucking ran. Your brother and everyone else found me, and I hid for a while from the town because they thought it was me. Steve and everyone caught me up on the whole Upside Down, Dungeons & Dragons creatures thing but worse because it was real bullshit that’s been happening in Hawkins so I knew I wasn’t crazy for seeing what I saw. But your brother-” Eddie let out a half laugh and a sigh, “he immediately believed me, and so did all of the kids. I couldn’t believe Steve Harrington, Mr. Cool, was involved in this shit. I followed him around and helped him fight in the Upside Down to save the town that fucking hated me. That night that Max lured Vecna in the attic was worse than I told you.” His voice got quieter, and deeper, “I died that night down there. I know I did. I saw fucking- I can’t even say what I saw down there because I don’t know wasn’t to say it out loud. I was so close to coming back up to Hawkins but at the last second I decided I had to help your brother and everyone else out- because let’s face it, if I died, who the fuck cared? I mean, Wayne would have, but think about if Steve would’ve died- you would’ve been without a brother, Dustin would’ve been crushed. He worships your brother. If anyone else would’ve died, so many people would’ve cared, you know? And I’m just Eddie, the town freak, who murdered some jocks with my devil worshiping game.”
You felt the warm tears flowing down your cheeks as Eddie spoke with brutal, heartbreaking honesty- it hurt your heart that this was how he felt about himself.
“The demobats flew after and attacked me and I knew I was sacrificing myself. Myself, Eddie “the banished”, for this whole stupid fucking town of Hawkins, where everyone hated me, and they thought I was murdering some high school kids.”
You sniffled through your tears as he continued talking.
“They tore me up. They bit me, their tails were sharp as spears, and the screeching. Fuck, I can still hear their high pitched screeches and it’s terrifying. I remember that Dustin came back for me, and then your brother must have shown up to help carry me back through the gate. I was so bloodied up and hurt they said I passed out. But I know I died. I saw these visions of my entire life- bad and good. I saw my mom, the short time she was here, and I saw my dad. I-I saw my fucking father and how he used to yell at me and hit me for all the dumb shit I did. And then I saw Wayne, who was crying by himself. A-and I saw you.” He wiped his eyes before any tears could fall and he choked out a smile, “I saw you. We were laughing in your basement, and that last summer where we actually hung out before you got too cool for me. All the time we spent at your house, in the pool, and then I saw you- I saw you all wrangled up by Vecna. He had you all… trapped, and you were screaming for help too, and I couldn’t help you because I was dead. He looked at me as he-” he took a shaky exhale, “he snapped your body into a mangled mess too, and then I regained consciousness and I was at Hopper’s cabin. I’d been out cold for days, reliving the same fucking dream over and over and over. And I still have it. And these scars hurt every time I have that dream. I wake up having a panic attack, and call Steve to talk me down.”
You were speechless as you clutched his hand tightly, a few tears escaped Eddie’s eyes as he refused to look at you. “But I haven’t told anyone that- that they still hurt sometimes. J-just you.”
“Eddie, what if it means something?”
“I don’t want it to mean something.” He spoke through gritted teeth and ripped his hand away from you, “it can’t. It’s all over now. Vecna’s gone, and he can’t hurt any of us again. El killed him, and everything is over.” He sighed and got up from the bed. You reached out and caught his hand, pulling him back to you. He didn’t fight it as his limp body collapsed into yours, and you held him as sobs wracked his whole body.
“I’m so sorry Eddie. You didn’t deserve any of that.” You couldn’t stop thinking about what he said about himself, how no one would’ve cared if he were gone. “I wish I could’ve been here for you. So you would have known that you mattered. You matter to so many people, Eddie.” You rubbed his back, soothing his cries. “Thank you.”
“For what?” He spoke into your neck.
“For sacrificing yourself for Steve, for your friends, for everyone. I’m glad you’re still here.” You pulled him from hiding into your neck, and wiped his tears.
“Yeah?”
“You’re the kindest, least scary metal head-nerd I’ve ever known.” You placed a soft kiss to his lips. You stared into his red rimmed, dark brown eyes that were wet with salty tears, “and thank you for telling me all of that. I know that was really hard.”
He just nodded and kissed you back, and stood up from the bed, grabbing his cigarettes from his bedside table. “I’ll be outside for a minute. Just-”
“I get it. It’s okay.” He waved a small wave as he made his way to his back porch to smoke, leaving you to lay back down in his bed.
Your head was spinning. Eddie was carrying the weight of all of this around daily, constantly. It hasn’t even been but maybe six months since his entire world had been flipped upside down, and he barely had time to process it all.
You knew he needed to talk to someone, a professional, but you didn’t know if anyone was allowed to know about him and everything he’d been through. Steve could be helpful, but again, you worried it might be out of pocket for you to talk to him. You got up and went back to the bathroom to splash some cool water on your face, then wandered out to the kitchen to gaze at Eddie on the back porch smoking. You could tell he was deep in thought, but he must have sensed you staring because he quickly put out his cigarette, and found you in the kitchen.
“Your parents are not too happy with you, you should probably know that.” He looked up at you through his mangled hair. “Steve gently suggested I should get you home earlier.”
“What else were you two talking about?” You asked, hoping he’d reveal something to you.
“Just needed his help calming down. He used to have nightmares too, but he seemed to have stopped having them.”
You were shocked at this, you didn’t know your brother had had the nightmares. But by how horrible Eddie described everything, you wouldn’t be shocked if everyone involved had them too.
“Have you tried anything- like, talking to anyone about it?”
He shook his head with an exhale and a quick change in his voice, “no, and it’s not something I’m up for talking about right now, okay? Let’s get you home.” He gently put his hand on your shoulder and guided you to his room. You found a pair of his sweatpants that were neatly folded in a drawer and grabbed the rest of your belongings. So much for a slow morning.
“You embarrassed us. Both of you.” You and Steve were standing shoulder to shoulder in your parents kitchen, and you felt like it was a flashback to being kids again.
“Sorry.” You reluctantly muttered out.
“I can't really punish either of you since you’re adults, but just know we’re both extremely disappointed in your behaviors and disappearing last night- it’s only been a few months since, since everything and we were supposed to be redeeming ourselves last night, and you both screwed that up for us.”
“We never stay long, mom.” Steve rolled his eyes and crossed his feet at his ankles as he leaned back against the kitchen counter. Eddie had stayed, but he was seated at the breakfast table in the kitchen, where he was sitting surprisingly quiet.
“No, but you didn’t have to act like children on stage and then sneak off to god knows where. You both reek of alcohol and bar.” Your mother flew her hands around in the air, “and where were either of you last night anyway? We waited up for a long time.”
“Robin’s.”
“Eddie’s.” You both answered at the same time.
“You start work on Monday, with me, if you want to continue living here. And Steve, you better clean your act up.” Your father spoke to both of you and you could tell it was a line he’d rehearsed with your mother beforehand. “And Eddie, we’d like to have you over for dinner.”
“I’d love nothing more.” He crossed his hands in his lap and shot your parents a huge grin- he had no idea what he was agreeing to.
“Tonight?” Your mother asked, her eyebrows raised.
“Can’t, he’s got a show.” You answered for him, trying to put it off as long as possible.
“We’re not on till 9. We’ll be here.”
“I can’t believe they’re still treating us like we’re teenagers. I mean, come on. I have to go work with dad.” You sighed as Steve was pacing in your room. “You got ants in your pants or something?”
He spoke after a few moments of silence, “I need to tell you something, but you can’t say anything to anyone. Not even Eddie, okay?” You nodded as you watched your brother run a hand through his messy hair again, and placed his other hand on his hip. “I’m worried about Eddie. Like, really worried.”
You played dumb, guessing what he was going to hopefully bring up. “why?”
“He called me this morning and he was so… he was not okay. You know, we saw some fucked up stuff just a few months ago, and we’ve all gotten some help whether it’s medication, or counseling, or something. But Eddie, he had it the worst and hasn’t tried anything to help him for more than a few days or weeks, if that, he just keeps it all together and hidden. Says he doesn’t need it, then he calls me crying in the morning because he says he sees-“ Steve stopped. “Has these horrible nightmares that feel like he’s back there again. There’s only certain people we’re allowed to talk to about this stuff, and you know him- he trusts no one. He’s afraid they’re gonna lock him up or something.”
“He told me his scars hurt him sometimes after.” You spoke before thinking.
“W-what?”
“Shit, Steve, that wasn’t my business to tell. Please don’t say anything to him.” Shit, shit, shit.
“Fuck- I, I- they told us…” Steve was pacing more, then he stopped, “Like I said, there’s a specific group of people we can go to about this, and these people aren’t the kindest. He probably just thinks it’s normal but someone needs to know- El, Dustin, Will. One of them has to know-”
“What did they tell you, Steve?”
He sighed again, “If any of us experienced any physical feelings of pain from these nightmares we needed to let them know as soon as it started. I bet this has been going on for months and he hasn’t said shit. It’s probably why he’s so angry, he’s holding all of this in- I’ve gotta tell-”
“Steve, you can’t! He’s never told anyone and he’ll get mad at me if he knows I told you.” You started panicking- you were having the same feelings about fearing Eddie’s anger as you were your ex-boyfriends.
Steve gently took you by the shoulders, “Listen, this is not something to play a waiting game with. You haven’t been around for all of this, and he was just thrown into it so I don’t think he realizes the severity of this possibly meaning something. It could be nothing, but it could be something.”
“I vote for telling Dustin.”
“Me too, and I think he can talk to El to get an idea of what this might mean. And hey, if he gets mad, you’re just trying to help him.” You’d never seen your brother this serious, so you had no other choice but to trust and take his word for it.
-
“So, Eddie, what are your plans?” Your mother asked as she flashed a fake smile at your boyfriend.
“Well, I’m running the music store in town and teaching lessons- I stay pretty booked out with those. But long term, hopefully our band will get noticed and we’ll get out of here.” Eddie chewed his dinner beside you while you picked at the food on your plate with your fork. His knee nudged you and you glanced at him with a quick smile.
“No backup plan?” She asked, setting her fork down.
“Don’t need one. If the band doesn’t get picked up, I own the record store and it’s doing great. I could expand, hire more people for more classes, and make more than enough to support myself and my family.” He confidently spoke without skipping a beat. Both you and Steve were eyeing each other across the table. Steve had told Dustin, and he was apparently trying to figure something out ASAP, but as far as you knew, Eddie had no idea.
“Own it? I didn’t know you owned it.” You were surprised this detail was left out- it was pretty major. Thoughts of how quickly things were moving between you two swelled in your mind along with everything else, but Eddie kept on talking.
“We got a pretty big uh, settlement for losing our house, and the record store was not going to be able to reopen with all the repairs needed. Hawkins doesn’t have much in that department, so I knew I had to keep it open for the sake of music in this town.”
“Well, that’s shocking. I didn’t know you owned a business.” Your dad spoke before washing down his bite of dinner with his rum and coke. “You really have made an effort in the last year, haven’t you?”
You could feel the glare your mother was giving your father at the positivity he was hinting about in the question.
“Yes, sir. Get called a devil worshipper, satanist, murderer… but gotta just push through. Wayne helped me a lot with getting everything fixed up.”
“So, you two are just, what? Best friends again, or-?” Your mom rudely interjected her question.
“It’s pretty obvious what’s going on between the two of them, mom.” Steve laughed at the comment.
“Boyfriend and girlfriend.” Eddie spoke casually as he sipped a beer through his proud smirk at your mom.
“Ah, well.” She pushed the food around on her plate, at a loss for words. “We’ll see where this goes, I guess.”
“Mom, can you try not being a bitch for once?” Every male at the table was shocked, and tried not to spit out their drink or food at your sudden outburst. “It’s not like Eddie wasn’t my best friend for over half of my life, or that I didn’t have a major crush on him the entire time, or-”
“What?” Eddie looked at you, his cheeks burning red.
“Not important right now.” You put your hand on top of his to stabilize yourself. “We already had this talk mom, I was who you wanted me to be in high school. Carry on the Harrington name, be the captain, miss popular, miss get engaged first, etc. and look at where that got me. I’m doing what I want to do now that I’m an adult and if being Eddie Munson’s girlfriend is that, then that’s what I’m going to choose to be.”
“I just don’t want you making a mistake, dear.” She pursed her lips at you, and you groaned as you stood up from the table.
“The only mistake I’ve made was thinking that you were going to maybe change.” You threw your dinner plate into the sink loudly and leaned against the counter, burying your face in your hands. You heard feet slowly walking into the kitchen, “Eddie, please just, I don’t want you in here right now.”
“It’s just me.” Steve spoke quietly. “He’s outside, said he’d wait for you so you can get to the show. And uh, he knows. Dustin already called him an hour before he got here because he said he had an idea.”
“Go tell him I’m staying here, or going to Robin’s, or fuck, anywhere else. I’m not riding with him.” You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself. “How mad is he?”
“Not at all.” Steve shrugged as he shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Bullshit. Steve, he’s going to get me in that van and he’s-”
“Hey, he’s Eddie. Not Charlie.” His hand on your shoulder made you jump as you looked at your brother’s eyes. They showed every bit of fear you felt too, you’d called him sometimes when Charlie had been upset with you so he knew that you weren’t overreacting.
“Can I ride with you?” You asked, hopeful.
“Can’t, I’m not going. I’ll walk out there with you and stand on the porch while you talk to him if that makes you feel better?”
“Yeah. That sounds alright.”
“Yeah? I’ll grab your purse for you and meet you out there.” You nodded at Steve as you walked out of the kitchen back door, wanting to avoid having to pass back through the dining room and seeing your parents.
You approached his rumbling van slowly, the hum was steady in the quiet of the dusky air. There were puffs of smoke coming from the drivers side as you walked up, and you watched the window roll down slowly.
“Hi.” Eddie smiled at you, his smile reaching his eyes.
“You- you’re not mad?”
“Mad? About what? About you telling Steve what I was too pussy to tell anyone about?”
“Yeah…” you heard the front door shut and saw Steve standing there awkwardly, your small purse in his hand and he waved with the other.
“You ready to go to the show?” He put out his cigarette and leaned his chin on the window. “Can’t be late, heard the main act is reaaaaally good. I think the lead singer is like, really hot.”
You were blushing at Eddie when he winked at you, “yeah, let me grab my purse from Steve.”
You retrieved the bag, and made your way back to Eddie’s van. He’d hopped out and had the passenger door open for you to hop in with ease.
“What do you think you’re doing wearing a skirt like that to my show, when you’re on your goddamn period, baby?” His hand rested on your bare thigh and he rubbed it up and down, feeling your smooth skin. “You’re really trying to kill me.”
You did nothing but blush and look out the window, and put your hand on top of his to stop him from inching any higher.
“Thanks for telling Steve. Really.” His voice was deep as he looked at you, at the red light, the glow reflecting on his pale face.
“I thought you were going to get mad like Charlie would have-”
“I told you to stop saying his name. I’m not him, not one bit like him.”
“I just know you can get really angry and-”
“You want to help me. I can’t get mad at you for that, that’s just silly.” A horn honked behind you, and you both jumped. “Alright, alright, I’m going.” Eddie floored it and you let out a little laugh.
You took a deep breath before speaking, “I’m sorry, I’m just not used to… this.”
“Well, get used to it. I’m not an asshole.”
And that was… it? The end of it. Huh.
Corroded Coffin went on at their planned time, and since you were alone tonight you opted for the side stage again, wanting to avoid possibly knowing anyone in the crowd, and you enjoyed the personal little sideshow Eddie gave you every time he walked your way.
“Big fan?” A guy beside you, who you did not recognize spoke up to you out of nowhere.
“Uh, Eddie-” you pointed to him, “he’s my bes- boyfriend. Just like sitting over here instead of standing amongst all of those sweaty people.”
“Oh, you two been together a long time?” Who was this guy, and where the hell did he come from? He was in some Levi’s, boots, and a band tee. It wasn’t worn like Eddie’s, it looked newer than any of his and the guy looked a bit older than both of you. You looked around his shoulder for Tripp, who just shrugged at you. What the actual fuck?
“I mean, we haven’t been a couple a long time, but we were practically best friends for our whole lives until I went to college but now I’m back. Who are you?”
“Tim, from the city. I own a record label and we heard about these guys so I came here to scout them out tonight.” You looked up at him as his gaze was set on the band. “They’re not half bad.”
“Y-yeah, they’re pretty good. Do they know you’re here?”
“Nah, we like to do this and catch them off guard. That way they can’t put on any kind of an extra show or something, but I figured with the way he’s putting on a show anytime he turns this way that you have to be someone special.”
Your heart was swelling at this for Eddie. “Oh, I get that.” You quietly enjoyed the rest of their set, Tim eventually wandered away before the guys had a chance to run off stage.
“Who was that you were talking to?” Eddie was standing between your parted legs, his lips attacking your neck, his fucks for the night were absolutely not there and you felt like he was just showing off his possessive nature.
“Tim.”
“Who the fuck is Tim?” He dipped lower, catching his guitar that was strapped around his shoulder on his back, before it had a chance to accidentally hit you.
“Record label scout.” Eddie paused as he sucked a love bite on your throat.
“What did you say?” He stood up and looked at you with wide eyes.
“Record label… scout? Said he was as sent out here to watch you guys play. He was impressed. Said he was from the city-”
“TRIPP!” Eddie yelled and ran over to the Hideout guy standing in the corner, you watched as he animatedly talked to him, running a hand through his sweaty hair and eventually handing his guitar off to a band mate. They all gathered around and were talking amongst themselves with excitement as you continued to sit on the unused speaker.
“Hey, you drink?” Tim was beside you again, with shots in his hand- multiple, you assumed that he’d grabbed them for everyone. “Bartender said tequila was the safest for everyone involved. I take it they heard I was here?” He nodded at the crowd of excited boys who’d missed his returning presence.
“Sorry, I-”
“I was gonna grab them after the show, don’t worry. C’mon, let’s go talk.” You followed him over to the band, holding your shot glass in your hand as you watched them turn to face the two of you. “Tim, from the city. I’m a label scout, I’ve heard you already know that though. We’re looking for a new band to sign on and we caught wind of Corroded Coffin, so here we are. Well, here I am.”
He passed out the shots, and you all took them in unison. He talked to the guys for a few minutes before Eddie walked over to you.
“Hey, he wants to talk about some stuff in private. I- are you okay to wait? I can tell him I’ve gotta go get you home if you’re not.”
“Nu-uh, you go. I’m fine. You go talk.” He pulled you in for a kiss, pulling your face as close to his as he possibly could, biting your lip before he pulled away.
“Thank you, baby. If any creeps come up, here’s my keys to go sit in the van.” He handed you a keychain full of keys and keychains, his shorter metal chain attached to it tonight.
You wandered over to the bar, and asked for a drink from the bartender who put it on “Eddie’s girls tab”, and you found the least sticky bar stool you could find to observe the bar dying down after the school.
It had been more than 30 minutes, more than two drinks before you realized this was going to take longer than you expected.
“Harrington? To what does Hawkins owe your presence?” You rolled your eyes at the voice, immediately recognizing it as one of Charlie’s friends.
“Fuck off, Caleb.” What was he even doing here? This was not his crowd, at all.
“Feisty. Cute. Guess dating the town freak does that to you.” You clutched your glass tightly, tempted to throw it at him, or break it at the grub you had on it.
“What are you even doing here? You wouldn’t be caught dead here.”
“Yeah well, heard you don’t want Charlie near you so he sent me to keep an eye on you.”
“I don’t need an eye on me here. I don’t need one on me at all.” Of fucking course. You finished your drink and stood up, then felt your arm get grabbed firmly.
“C’mon, lemme get you out of this shit hole.”
“Caleb, let go of me.” You pulled your arm, but his grip was too strong.
“Nah, Charlie’s waiting for you out there. You’re coming with us tonight after that shit you pulled at the benefit yesterday and made it so he couldn’t even go. You don’t really want that freak, do you?”
“Freak is such a childish word, it’s not even an insult. Let go of my fucking arm.”
“No.” He yanked you closer to him, “let’s go.”
“No!” You pulled and tugged, your arm felt like it was burning from his touch and tight grip. “I’m not fucking going anywhere with you!” You yelled, trying to get anyone’s attention. The bartender heard, and hopped over the bar to come rescue you.
“Let go of her, you dipshit, before I have to call the cops on you.”
“Just trying to get her home safely, don’t want her getting hurt by Munson-”
“You’re gonna be the one hurting if you don’t let her go.” The bartender ripped his arm away from yours and threw his arm at him. “Get the fuck outta my bar and don’t ever step your preppy ass back in here, or I will call the cops. No one wants you here.” You watched as Caleb backed away slowly.
“We’ll be watching, always watching.” He winked before he walked out.
You didn’t realize it but your whole body had started trembling, tears were streaming down your to, nausea had come from nowhere, and your ears were starting to ring. A panic attack was setting in and you needed to get out as soon as possible.
“I-I need to get to Eddie.” You held your hurting arm, “can you walk me back there?” He glanced at the bar before gently guiding you through the thinned out crowd. The door to the guys dressing room was shut, so you knocked with your shaky hand. “Eddie?”
“Just a minute, babe. We’re almost done here.” He spoke back through the door. You turned around, and the bartender had gone back to the bar, and Tripp was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly you were awfully fearful of the back door being unprotected.
Fuck it, you thought to yourself and opened the door. “I gave you the keys, what- Oh, fuck, what happened?” You entered the room and Eddie rushed to you immediately as everyone stared at you.
“I don’t wanna talk about it in front of these people, can we please go? I’m scared to go out by myself.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just- ah, fuck.”
“Hey, it’s fine. She’s more important. We got your info, we can call or meet up another time. Not gonna affect anything.” Tim held his hands up at Eddie as he smiled.
“Please.” You begged Eddie, and he nodded at you before kissing you on the forehead. He walked back to the band and said bye to them, thanking Tim and rambling off for a little too long before Tim had to shoo him away back to you.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” Eddie put his arm around you, and you could smell alcohol on him. “C’mon, let’s go home.”
“Eddie, you smell like an entire bottle of liquor, you’re not driving home.”
“And what, you’re perfectly sober?” His attitude came out of nowhere.
“What the fuck? Eddie, I’m having a goddamn panic attack because one of Charlie’s friends has been here all fucking night watching me. He just tried to grab me and take me out of here while you’re back there fucking around and drinking with your friends for close to an hour.”
“What?”
“You heard me! One of Charlie’s creepy friends was here, watching me-”
Eddie pushed past you, and you watched him bust the front door of the Hideout open. “HEY!”
You ran up to the bar and tapped on it to get the bartender’s attention. “Call the cops, get Jim Hopper over here now.” He nodded, and you followed Eddie’s path out the door. He was banging on the window of Charlie’s car.
“Open the fucking window, you coward!” He was yelling through the glass. Charlie and his friends were locked in safe in his car, and they were all mocking Eddie with little devil horns and sticking their tongues out at him. “You leave my girl alone, if I see you again, I WILL be wanted for murder, you fucking psycho.”
“EDDIE!” You yelled at him to get his attention, but he didn’t listen or stop.
“Is that a threat I just heard?” Charlie yelled through the glass.
“No, it’s a fucking PROMISE!” Eddie yelled, punching the car window with all of his might. The door to Charlie’s car opened, and Eddie backed up, letting him get out.
“Eddie, I swear to god. You don’t know who you’re messing with!” You yelled at him as you cautiously approached the two guys.
“Hey, you. Damn, you look good tonight, Caleb wasn’t lying.”
“Hey, HEY! Fuck off, man.” Eddie shoved him back, and before you knew it, you were running at the two, pulling Eddie back before Charlie got a chance to take a swing at him. Instead, it landed on your shoulder. You barely winced as you faced him.
“Charlie, get the fuck out of here.”
“Mmm, baby I miss hearing my name come out of your mouth.” He took a few steps closer to you, and you were wondering where Eddie was right now to protect you, then you heard him heaving into the gravel beside Charlie’s car.
“Please don’t do this again.” You begged, “just please, please fucking go.”
“Miss that begging too.” He stepped closer and you pushed him back again, begging for your boyfriend to stop puking his brains out.
“Take one more step closer to Harrington and your ass is getting it, Charlie. Get the fuck outta here.” Hopper had finally made it, and he was stepping between you two. “Did I stutter? Go home. If I ever hear about any of you stalking Harrington, Munson, anyone again, your whole family is going to get it.” Hopper was standing over Charlie, chest to chest as much as he could. Charlie cowered back, crawled into his car, and they drove away. Eddie was still bent over, and you started crying again.
“Hey, hey. It’s okay.”
“No it’s not, I’m not even safe here. And now I can’t even get home because he’s so fucking drunk he can’t drive, and I can’t either because I’m drunk too, and I’m having another panic attack because the other one never ended and-”
“Shhh, calm down. Take a deep breath. I’m here, I’m the officer on call tonight. I can get you home and I can get my buddy to get Munson’s van home too, alright? I called for backup- he should be here soon.”
“I- I don’t wanna go with him, I wanna go home.” Eddie stood up and wiped his mouth, he seemed to have finished.
“C’mon, I thought we could go home and celebrate baby.”
“Celebrate what?” You asked him, clueless.
“We signed onto their label tonight.” Normally, you would’ve been happy for Eddie. But not tonight, not right now. Not the way he completely was ignoring the events of the night, and his lack of attempt to make you feel safe tonight.
“You go get in my car, I’ll wait with him til my buddy gets here.” Hopper motioned to his vehicle and you walked over, ignoring Eddie calling your name. The tears started falling faster the closer you got to the car, and finally you let out the sobs once you shut the door. You really didn’t want to subject Hopper to your drunk crying the entire way back to your house, so you took as many deep breaths as you could possibly try before you saw him cross in front of the car again.
“They’re taking him home and his ride along is getting his van so it’s not here all night. You alright? He hurt you?”
“Charlie got a hit in, but it’s-”
“I’m talking about Munson. Already gonna get more paperwork filed on Charlie and his crew. Eddie hurt you?” You shook your head and quieted the sobs trying to escape.
“I’ve picked up Nancy and Robin from enough parties and they were crying over boys… and girls. You can let it out, Harrington.”
“He- he didn’t hurt me.” Your shoulders shook as you sobbed, “I promise. I’m just upset about him getting so shit faced and trying to drive me home, and he wasn’t there in the bar when Caleb got his hands on me.” You didn’t know when he started driving but the moving of the car was making you feel nauseous. You weren’t going to get sick, but your stomach was turning from the anxiety of the night.
“Don’t worry about any of them after tonight, okay? And don’t let yourself be alone, especially somewhere like the Hideout. I don’t trust any of those kids, they’re all little shits.”
You nodded, your sniffing was all that could be heard over the sounds coming from Hopper’s radio scanner.
You pulled up at your house, Steve’s car was parked in the driveway by itself, meaning your parents were out, possibly at a party, or gone, but you didn’t give a shit. You were just glad to be home.
“Thanks.” You tried to open the door from the inside, but forgot that you couldn’t unlock it since it was a cop car, and Jim got out to unlock your door.
“Steve home?” You shrugged. “Can I come up to the door and talk to him, I heard about-”
“Yeah, you can come in.” You said, not wanting to hear or talk about anything else tonight.
“Hey, wasn’t expecting you.” Steve said from the couch where he was watching a movie, “or you, Hop. What’s up?” He got up from the couch, and all but chased after you after he got a glance at your running makeup from the side, “hey, what happened?”
“Nothing, I’m going to bed.” Steve put his hand on your shoulder and you pushed him back, “don’t fucking touch me, I’m going to bed!” You yelled at him, crying more as you stormed up the stairs.
“She’s gonna be fine, just let her go.” You heard Hopper tell your brother.
You reached your room and slammed the door shut, you collapsed in the bed, and you let even more cries out. The phone rang, and you groaned, picking it up and hanging it up again immediately. A few seconds later, it rang again. Maybe it was your parents.
“H-Harrington residence?”
“Baby, I’m so sorry.” Eddie slurred through the phone.
“I don’t want to talk to you tonight, leave me alone.” You hung up the phone, not giving him a chance to speak again.
Maybe coming back home was a mistake, but what other option did you have?
#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie munson x reader#stranger things 4#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson x harrington!reader#Harrington!reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x female character#eddie munson x fem!reader smut
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episode three: the pollywog
Steve looks over at you, not necessarily amused, but flattered nonetheless. “You know my class schedule?”
A blush spreads across your face as you look away from him, but Steve still sees it and something flutters in his chest. He’s always thought you were pretty when you blushed, but you’re even prettier when he’s the reason why.
“I pay attention,” you dodge.
Summary: you lecture jonathan about daddy issues and then have an intellectual debate about healthy relationships, you play Mr. Love Dr with Steve, nancy and jonathan go on a sick side quest (and actually inform you this time !), meanwhile: you're about to put a leash on your damn brother.
Rating: general, some curing
Warnings: use of y/n, fem!reader, cursing, slight reference to billy being mean and trauma
Words: 6.7k
Before you swing in: hello ! my first day of spring semester is tomorrow, so here's a quick lil chapter for yall :) i wont have a lot of time to update as frequently anymore, but i promise i will continue to update as much as i can <3 in the meantime, enjoy this chapter n have a lovely day my dears !!
-
Like most mornings, you’re up and ready before Dustin has even woken up.
“Dustin! C’mon, wake up! Jonathan will be here soon and–” You try to open your brother’s door, but it’s locked. “What the–? Dustin! Hello?”
You begin pounding on his door, trying and failing to get in, and right as you’re about to break the door down, your mom comes in from the kitchen. “Y/N, Dusty has already left.”
“Left? Like, he went to school already?” No way in hell that kid has just decided to get up and ready for school any earlier than he needed to. That kid could sleep thirty hours if given the chance.
“Yup! He left pretty early this morning, said he had a test to study for.” Your mom says as she wanders back towards the kitchen to make her usual cup of coffee.
“Huh,” you’re starting to worry that maybe Dustin is hiding something. First he blocked the door from you last night, now he’s supposedly leaving early for some test? He’s hiding something, you know he is. What worries you, though, is that Dustin hasn’t felt the need to hide anything from you since the whole El fiasco.
Which hadn’t ended well.
As you’re lost in thought, mentally going through Dustin’s actions these last few days, Jonathan walks through your front door, keys in hand.
“Hey, bug. Ready to go?”
“Yeah,” you shake your head to clear any more thoughts. You’ll interrogate Dustin later. “Let me grab my bag, one sec.”
Jonathan nods before he’s attacked by your mom, who pulls him into a hug squeals. “Jonathan!”
“You saw me last night, Mrs. Henderson.” He pats her back awkwardly, mouthing “help me” towards you, but you only laugh and grab your bag from your room.
As soon as you have your stuff, you and Jonathan head out. You sneak some glances at him while he drives, memories from last night crashing back. The party… Well, who could’ve seen any of that coming? Considering how shitty the night turned out, Jonathan looks better at least. However, the bruises on his knuckles make you frown.
“I’m sorry about Billy,” you say, grabbing the bruised hand. His skin is rough against yours, but familiar all the same.
Jonathan gives you an incredulous look. “You’re sorry?”
“Yes…?”
“Bug, no. We aren’t doing this.” He shakes his head, pulling his hand away to run it through his hair. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Billy was being a piece of shit, you needed my help, so I did what any sane person would do.”
You’re silent, not used to having such aggression from Jonathan aimed at you. He’s not necessarily mad at you, but you and him have had some issues in the past about stuff like this. You’ve always apologized for other people’s actions, as if you getting hurt is somehow always your fault. He hates that you do it.
You hate that you always do it. But you can’t help it, it’s almost second nature at this point.
Jonathan, reading your mind, sighs. His anger dissipates and he grabs your hand now, kissing your knuckles softly. “I’m sorry for yelling. I just… You mean the world to me, Y/N. I love you, I will always be there for you. I’d punch Billy a million more times if I needed to, without you ever having to ask me.”
“I know, but–”
“If you feel guilty I will pull this car over and shake your pretty little head until I finally knock some sense into it.”
Finally, you laugh. “Now that’s just dramatic.”
“Do I need to pull over?”
“No,” you raise your hands up in surrender. “I’ll shut up now.”
Jonathan nods his head. “Good, just the way I like it.”
You smack his chest, and he fake screams in pain. He makes a show of it, hunching himself over while he drives and clutches at his chest, which you giggle at. He’s laughing as well, and it’s one of your “normal” moments that have become so few and far between. Just you and Jonathan, giggling in his car early in the morning as you drive to school, your laughter is just enough to keep the two of you warm.
Jonathan’s ladybug ring catches the morning light and the bee wrapped around your neck buzzes against your skin.
But “normal” never lasts long anymore, and you remember Nancy’s drunken eyes from last night and Steve’s loneliness in his voice when he asked you why everyone keeps leaving him. The memories cause your giggles to fade off, the small moment of joy now gone.
Jonathan sees your mood change and, because he’s always on the same page as you, purses his lips. “So… It’s now tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” you sigh, remembering telling him last you’d talk about Steve and Nancy tomorrow. “It’s now tomorrow.”
“Why’d you insist on driving Steve home?”
The question is innocent enough, but you sense that how you answer it could change things. “He was upset.”
“Sure, but you almost bit my head off when I last asked about that guy. Then you wanted to drive him home?” Jonathan keeps his eyes on the road ahead of him, though he clenches his jaw ever so slightly. But you see it. You always see it.
“Bee… I had to, okay? Please, can we just leave it at that?” You don’t want to talk about your fucking feelings with the first boy you’ve ever loved, the boy who doesn’t love you back.
Jonathan swallows, takes another deep breath, and then nods. “I took Nancy home, like Steve asked. She was… Very drunk. Had to carry her into bed.”
“I’m sorry about that, too.”
“You didn’t shove alcohol down her throat.”
“No, but I did encourage her to go to that stupid party while she was fighting with Steve.”
“Steve and Nancy have been fighting?”
Shit. You forgot that Jonathan didn’t know.
“Okay, yes” you say, but right as Jonathan’s eyes light up, you’re quick to backtrack. “But if I tell you anything else, you have to swear to keep it between us. Got it?”
“I won’t say a word.”
You sigh, really hoping you aren’t breaking Nancy’s trust. Technically, she hadn’t asked you to keep your conversation from yesterday private, but… It feels wrong telling Jonathan about it. “Nancy and Steve have been fighting, yes, but not in the way you’d think.”
You’ve arrived at school, so Jonathan quickly parks the car before motioning for you to keep talking. “Go on, I’m curious now.”
“God, you’re a worse gossip than I am. Anyways, she’s mad at Steve for brushing off Barb’s death, in a sense. But also, like… Steve isn’t really brushing off Barb’s death? I think he just wants to help Nancy, those are his intentions, but he doesn’t know how. He thinks dinner dates, going to parties, and spending a lot of time together will get her mind off of things.”
Jonathan scoffs. “Well, babying Nancy won’t help.”
“I know, and you’re right, but Nancy should have expressed this to Steve better, don’t you think? I mean, we don’t know what happened last night, but it seems like she tried drinking away her anger towards him rather than actually talking to him.”
“And how can we know Steve wouldn’t just run away or something? Actually be up for it, be proactive rather than retroactive. It seems like Nancy needs to do something about Barb’s death.”
Frustration builds within you. “And what good does assuming something actually do? Assuming that Steve wouldn’t listen is wholly unfair and honestly, a bit rude. He’s her boyfriend, she can’t just assume he wouldn’t care. Steve has done everything he can to show he cares, that he loves her, so I think Nancy should be the one to voice her feelings and let him know what she needs. What she wants.”
Jonathan looks away. “And what should Nancy want, bug?”
You’re silent.
Somehow, you and Jonathan aren’t fighting about Steve and Nancy anymore.
“I… I don’t know.” You look out the window, watching as students pass by.
After a tense silence, Jonathan tries to crack a joke. “Oh, you’ll laugh at this! Caught Bob sneaking out the house like some shameful teenage boy this morning.”
You turn towards him now. “Why would I laugh at that? I think it’s sweet, your mom seems happy.”
“Sure, but…” Jonathan’s smile falters, not expecting you to be so stoic as a reaction. “He’s kinda a loser, you gotta admit.”
“Jonathan Byers, I literally had to save you from bullies, five times my size, as a girl, when we were twelve.”
“Okay, I didn’t mean it like that–”
“You should be nicer about Bob. He’s a good guy, he actually cares about you, Will, and your mom. After the hell you guys went through with Lonnie, you should be appreciative of Bob.” You’re so angry now, your fists shake with rage. “You have a healthy father figure in your life now, which I would kill to give Dustin, and even if you don’t like him, you’re luckier for it.”
Jonathan is quiet. He’s staring down at his steering wheel in shame, and you feel bad for snapping so suddenly. You aren’t sorry for your anger towards him, his attitude towards Bob has been bothering you for a while. However, it doesn’t mean you have to be a bitch about it just because of your own issues surrounding shitty dads.
“I’m sorry, bee. You have a right to feel uncomfortable about the change, but I just think you should give Bob a chance. I like the guy.” You offer, looking over at your friend tentatively.
“No, you’re right. I know you are, it just takes some getting used to, I guess.” He grabs your hand, gives it a squeeze as if to tell you it’s all good now, and you squeeze his hand back.
“Great drive to school today,” you quip.
Jonathan laughs. “God, I think I had about five heart attacks during those conversations.”
The tension leaves the car. Then, slowly, the warmth creeps back in as you and Jonathan once again start laughing. You’re not sure why you’re even laughing, but you’re happy that you are.
–
Jonathan walks you to your locker, as he always does, and before he turns to head to his, you notice how quiet it is in the hallway. You look over at Nancy’s locker, which somehow always manages to be near yours every year, and frown when you don’t see her.
“There’s a suspicious lack of Nancy and Steve making out against her locker this morning.” You tell Jonathan.
He looks around and notices you’re right. The two of you share a concerned glance, knowing that their absence can’t mean anything good for the couple.
“Should we go look for them?” He asks, but you’re already heading towards the parking lot to find Steve. “Y/N!”
“Go find Nancy!” You call behind you, speeding up. “I’ll meet you at first period!”
Steve’s car is hard to miss in the parking lot. Hawkins isn’t necessarily a flashy town. No one else besides the Harringtons owns a fancy BMW. You approach the car and spot Steve sitting in the front, his head ducked down as if no one can see his massive red car and easily identify him.
Idiot.
Steve is having a rough week, so he’s spent the last five minutes in his car debating on whether or not he can afford to skip his first class. Reasonably speaking, his dad would kill him. He already has shit grades and he’s missed three college application deadlines. All he has left is Tech. However, his girlfriend told him last night she doesn’t love him and Billy embarrassed him in front of everyone last night.
Plus Nancy left with Jonathan, which everyone saw.
He told him to take her, but still.
Pretty embarrassing.
Yup. Alright. He’s going home.
Steve reaches over for his keys to turn the car on, but before he can, a knock on his window stops him. He looks up, scared Billy will be there, but instead he sees you and he’s not sure if his day just got better or worse.
“Let me in, dingus.” Your voice is light, but still stern, and yeah. Steve’s day just got better.
He unlocks the door and you silently get into the passenger seat. As you get settled in, he thinks about the first time he ever had you in his car. It feels like a lifetime ago, Steve’s heart had been beating wildly taking the risk of offering you a ride.
It had been the start of something, he could feel it.
But then you left him that summer without another word, as if nothing had happened between the two of you. As if Steve hadn’t slowly come to find himself opening up to someone, trusting that you’d let him be whoever he wanted; he could just be Steve around you, not King Steve or even perfect boyfriend Steve.
Now Steve’s hiding out in his car, no longer King Steve or even good fucking boyfriend Steve, and instead of his girlfriend seeking him out to comfort him, it’s you. Because of course it’s you.
“Hey,” you say.
“Hi.”
“You know that senior study hall is inside the school, right?”
Steve looks over at you, not necessarily amused, but flattered nonetheless. “You know my class schedule?”
A blush spreads across your face as you look away from him, but Steve still sees it and something flutters in his chest. He’s always thought you were pretty when you blushed, but you’re even prettier when he’s the reason why.
“I pay attention,” you dodge.
Steve wants to tease you some more, play into the banter he missed the most when the two of you weren’t talking, but his heart isn’t in it. Nancy’s words kept him up all night. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could hear was her telling him that she didn’t love him. After he did everything he possibly could’ve done right, it still hadn’t been enough.
“Did Nancy get home okay?”
You give him a small smile. “Yeah, I just talked to Jonathan about it.”
Relief floods through Steve. At least that’s one thing he hadn’t fucked up last night. “Good… I’m glad then.”
He awkwardly clears his throat and looks away again. He doesn’t know what he’s doing anymore. He feels lost, floating through his morning. Nothing has felt real since yesterday in the library with Nancy, when she had been looking up at him with those eyes he’s always been weak for.
“Any particular reason you’re hiding out in your car?”
Steve lets out a bitter laugh. “You were there last night. You know what happened.”
“Actually, I don’t.” You see the disbelief on Steve’s face and quickly correct yourself. “I mean, I remember you saying something about Nancy but… I don’t want to assume, so…”
Now you’re the one looking away in shame, and Steve watches as you nervously fiddle with your fingers and bite your lip. You’re trying. Though Steve still isn’t sure how to feel about you, how much to test this new compromise between you two, this “friendship”, Steve knows he has to at least try as well.
He takes a deep breath. “Nancy… She isn’t in love with me.”
A beat of silence passes.
“Steve, I mean, are you sure–”
“Pretty fucking sure, Y/N. Unless you think someone telling their boyfriend ‘like we’re in love’ means she’s madly in love with him.”
Another beat of silence passes. Steve can see the pity in your eyes, and he hates it. He fucking hates this, feeling so pathetic and small.
Then, your hand slowly intertwines with his and the anger in Steve’s chest lessens a bit. “I know my words don’t mean anything, but… Nancy not being in love with you has nothing to do with you as a person.”
Something untangles in Steve’s chest; you’ve reassured him of something he hadn’t even known had been his fear. How do you always seem to decipher what he’s feeling before he can?
“How do you know?” Steve has never felt so small before.
You shrug, but there’s a calculated nonchalance to it that he can easily see. “Because I know you. You’re frustratingly charming, Harrington.”
Steve laughs, something he didn’t even know he was able to do anymore. “That’s your takeaway here?”
“Mhm,” you squeeze his hand and Steve has never felt this grounded before by such a small action. “I say you need to talk to Nancy, I mean really talk to her. No more half truths and appeasements. I think she does love you, in her own way, but the circumstances aren’t on your guys’ side. I mean, she went through hell and back last year, Barb’s death anniversary is soon.”
You pause for a moment and frown, which Steve has come to learn means you’re carefully choosing which words to say next. “I want you to know, no, I need you to know, that this has nothing to do with you. Okay?”
Steve wants to believe you, god he really wants to, but even he can see the blaring irony of you telling him that Nancy’s lack of love for him has nothing to do with him personally. You, the girl he came to trust more than anyone else in this awful town, ditched him in the same manner. Steve’s the common denominator there. He’s always the one left behind.
“Look, I appreciate what you’re saying, but the words don’t mean a whole lot coming from you right now,” Steve tells you, and he hates the way your eyes darken, as if guarding yourself from him. “I know we agreed on being friends again, but I just… I need some time.”
You nod, as if you expected something like that from Steve, and he almost wants to just drive away with you in the car and pretend that nothing else exists. Instead, he clears his throat, his tongue feels heavy and his throat threatens to close up, but he forces himself to get the words out. “I want to be alone, please.”
He really doesn’t want to be alone, but his brain is swimming in confusion and you’re still holding his hand and Steve just needs a moment to himself to just breathe.
“Of course,” you tell him, because of course you listen and understand. “You know where to find me, yeah?”
Steve nods. He does.
“Bye, Y/N.”
You give him a small wave in response, close the car door, and then make your way back to the high school.
Steve watches you fade into the distance.
He’s alone again.
–
Jonathan makes it to first period with only seconds to spare. He throws himself into his seat next to you with panting breaths. Your history teacher, Mrs. Kent, drones through attendance without having noticed anything.
“I couldn’t find Nancy.” Jonathan whispers, before his name is called and he quickly raises his hand and says, “Here.”
You glance at the chalkboard and then flip your textbook to the page scrawled on it. “I found Steve wallowing in his car, alone. Guess he didn’t drive Nancy to school?”
“Seems a bit harsh.”
“May I remind you of the time you threw a jacket at my face and then screamed at me that we aren’t family? All because you felt guilty about taking naked photos of Nancy?”
Jonathan drops his head onto the desk, letting out a groan. “I’m never living that down, am I?”
You keep your eyes on the board, taking a few notes. “Nope.”
Class starts up now, so the topic is left alone. The school day passes on, you and Jonathan separating for your own classes after history is done. The day drags on for a while, though you hear a few whispers in the hall about how Jonathan had taken home a drunk Nancy.
“God, it’s like she loves the attention.” One girl giggles with her friend while you’re at your locker.
Her friend rolls her eyes. “Please, as if anyone would choose Byers over Steve Harrington.”
“I’m more of a Wheeler fan myself,” you tell the girls, not even sparing them a glance. “Now, why don’t we all just shut up and move away from my locker?”
The girls scurry away, fear in their eyes, and you simply shake your head at them. Why is Nancy always the one those girls gossip about? Objectively speaking, Steve has done much more heinous things than getting a ride home from a friend while drunk.
Jonathan kisses your cheek as he walks up from behind you, breaking you from your thoughts. “Hey, bug. Lunch at my car today?”
“Ugh, it’s such a nice day today, I’d love to.” You grab your lunch from your locker. Once you have it, you link your arm through Jonathan’s. “Guide the way, good sir.”
“Yes ma’am.”
–
Nancy is leaning against Jonathan’s car when you walk outside.
Her shoulders are slouched and you can see the unease on her face. She looks tired, too. A few people walk by her and stare, whispering as they go, and you really hate high schoolers sometimes.
When you make it to Jonathan’s car, Nancy holds her lunch bag up awkwardly. “Can I join you guys?”
“I’m sure we can make some room.” You tell her, which she smiles at.
It takes some adjusting, but eventually the three of you manage to fit on the front of the car. You sit on the roof, your legs dangling off of the side, while Nancy and Jonathan take the front. The early November sun beats down on you three, but the cool breeze makes the sting less painful. It’s a lovely day, all things considered.
You’re nibbling on your sandwich when Nancy exhales deeply and turns to you. “Y/N, you’d always tell me the truth, right?”
“Depends,” you take another bite out of your food. “What is this in reference to?”
“Last night… I don’t remember what I did.”
There’s a certain shame in her eyes that tells you she encountered Steve before retreating to Jonathan’s car. “You spoke to Steve this morning, I take it?”
She looks at you, surprised. “How did you–”
“We talked to him last night.” Jonathan cuts her off, looking between you and Nancy nervously. He’s not sure where you, her, and Steve all fall in regards to each other.
“So, he asked you to take me home?” Nancy faces him now, and you go back to eating.
“Yeah. Yeah, I mean he was upset…” He glances at you briefly before looking back at Nancy. “I mean, he was really upset.”
“I don’t blame him.” You cut in, mouth full of chips you stole from Jonathan.
He sends you glare and keeps talking. “But he was still worried about you, Nance.”
Nancy drops her head down and a part of you feels bad for the quip. She really does look ashamed, but you distinctly remember warning her about this exact thing last year in the school’s shed. She had tried telling you there wasn’t anything between her and Jonathan, and all you could tell her was that Steve didn’t deserve to be lied to or cheated on.
Guess she only kept one end of that bargain.
Jonathan sees that she’s upset and he softens his voice, scooting closer to her. “Hey, you need to cut yourself some slack, okay? People say stupid things when they’re wasted. Things they don’t mean.”
You bite your tongue. Hard. If you allow yourself to speak, you won’t be able to guarantee it’ll be anything nice. Sure, being drunk can influence some words to slip out, but cruelly telling your boyfriend of over a year that you don’t love him is something you can’t defend. Not when Nancy had other chances to tell Steve.
Nancy whips her head up. “Yeah, but that’s the thing. What if I did mean it? All this time, I’ve been trying so hard to pretend like everything’s fine, but it’s not.”
You and Jonathan share a look. He seems more curious, you can feel the anger burning through your eyes.
“No offense, Nance.” You wipe your hands on a napkin and force the girl to look at you. “But this is really something that you should be talking to Steve about. Remember our conversation from last year?”
Nancy looks down again in shame. “You’re right, I know you are, but… I don’t know. I feel like there’s this…” She pauses, trying to figure out how to explain her thoughts, but Jonathan finishes for her.
“Like there’s this weight you’re carrying around with you. All the time. I feel it, too.” He says, then he flicks your leg. “Y/N does as well. She tries to hide it, but I know she feels it as much as I do.”
Now it’s you who turns away, embarrassed and ashamed. Clearly you haven’t been so good at hiding your neverending guilt over Will.
“Yeah, but it’s different for you guys. Will came home.” Nancy says.
You open your mouth to speak, to correct the girl’s horrible viewpoint, but Jonathan surprises you by correcting her himself. “Yeah, he did. But he’s not the same. I try to be there for him, you know, to help him, but… I don’t know.”
“Dustin still has nightmares.” You admit, which Jonathan hadn’t known.
“I thought those went away, bug.”
You shake your head at him. “No… If anything, they’ve only gotten worse. Some nights he sleeps in my bed, says I calm him down, but I just… I feel horrible, knowing I left them alone that night at the middle school. The things he saw… god.”
Nancy and Jonathan sigh, understanding how painful the weight of guilt can feel.
A silence follows your confession.
Then, because you hate when there’s silence, you try to go back to the previous topic. “Anyways, Nancy, what we’re trying to say is that we understand. And I’m sure Steve will, too. He was also there that night, at Jonathan’s. You should talk to him, explain the weight within you. Steve, he…”
You find yourself pausing, unsure if what you’re about to tell Nancy is something Steve would want you to keep between you two, but he misses her. He loves her, so you try to fix whatever you can between them. “He thinks he did something wrong, that he’s unlovable. It isn’t fair to make someone feel that way.”
Nancy sighs. “I didn’t know that.”
“I know, but now that you do, you should probably do something about it. You guys can still go back to how things were.”
Jonathan frowns. “What if things can’t go back to the way they were? I mean, Will still thinks he’s in the Upside Down sometimes. I’ve seen the way Dustin gets scared when he hears a loud noise.”
A phantom pain shoots through your ankle. It’s long since healed, but sometimes memories from last year still sting. As you’re absentmindedly rubbing at it, Nancy notices and starts to get upset.
“Doesn’t that make you mad?”
“Mad?” You and Jonathan ask at the same time.
Nancy seems to almost come back to life, her anger now bringing energy back into her. “Yeah, that those… Those people who did this, who ruined so many lives, they just get away with it.”
“The people responsible for this, they’re dead.” Jonathan gently reminds her.
Nancy leans in close, bitterness in her voice as she narrows her eyes. “Do you really believe that?”
Jonathan frowns again and you do the same. If you’re being honest, you were also pretty skeptical about the whole evil scientists at Hawkin’s Lab all dying. Seemed like a pretty convenient thing to happen. But what else are you supposed to believe?
Nancy looks between you and Jonathan and sighs again. You know she’s upset by your unwillingness to look further, to question everything, but then you watch as her eyes drift towards some kid with his headphones and his walkman. Something shifts in her gaze and you know immediately that she’s thought of something.
You scoot closer in a hurry. “Nancy, whatever it is–”
“Your mom’s boyfriend,” she looks over at Jonathan. “He works at RadioShack, right?”
“Yeah… Why?” Jonathan looks over at you as if you have any possible explanation, and you just shrug at him. “What are you thinking?”
“Do you wanna skip fourth period?”
Immediately you hop down from the car. “No. Nope. Not happening. We aren’t doing this again.”
Nancy groans at you. “Y/N, I haven’t even explained my plan to you yet.”
“Okay, go on. Explain it, so I can then say no.”
Nancy does as she’s told, and it’s a fucking brilliant plan. You know it’ll work, and that’s why you can’t do it. Buying a tape recorder, planting a fake meetup with Barb’s mom to con the Hawkin’s Lab people into taking them in, and then recording whatever they confess to take it to the detective Barb’s parents hired.
It’s a genius plan, but you can’t leave the kids behind for that long.
“I can’t go.”
Jonathan looks disappointed. “Bug, don’t you want to make those assholes pay?”
“I do,” you reassure him. “But I can’t afford to leave the kids behind for two whole days. I mean, last time I did they opened a portal to another dimension. And Dustin has been acting weird lately, and Will’s been having those episodes more and more and I just… What if it’s happening again?”
Your voice shakes a bit with fear, and Jonathan pulls you into him. “We don’t know that.”
“But what if it is? Who would be there for them? We can’t just leave them to suffer the consequences alone while we’re trying to avenge them.”
While you’re still wrapped in Jonathan’s arms, Nancy rests her own hand against your shoulder. “I would feel better knowing the kids are in good hands. You’ve always been their biggest advocate.”
You thank the girl, but Jonathan still seems unsure about leaving you behind. “What about you? Who’s gonna be there for you if something happens?”
There, hidden underneath his words, you know he’s really asking how can I protect you if you aren’t within arm’s reach?
You bury your face into his chest, and Nancy seems to get the message and looks away. When you have some privacy, you look up at Jonathan. “I’ll be okay, bee. I promise. We can call every day you’re away, nothing will go uncommunicated this time. No secrets. You’ll be home in no time and I’ll be right here, safe and sound.”
He kisses your head. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”
“I should be telling you that.”
“Y/N…” he isn’t laughing, and you can hear how fast his heart is pounding. He’s terrified to leave you behind, but you know that this is what you have to do.
“I love you, and I’ll be right here. Come home to me, alright?”
“I will.” He promises, and you look into his eyes and see all the warmth and sincerity that you’ve come to love so much, and you believe him.
After a few moments, you finally pull away from him. You clear your throat and turn towards Nancy. “Okay, now that we’ve got that settled, I’m assuming I’m covering for y’all?”
She nods. “If you wouldn’t mind, can I tell my mom I’m at your place?”
“Duh, and Jonathan,” you flick his forehead, breaking the remaining tension away. “I’ll tell your mom you’ll be at my place as well. Sound good?”
He nods as well, though his eyes linger on you longer than they should.
“Well!” You clap your hands and stand between Nancy and Jonathan. “Great team meeting, gang. Let’s reconvene in two day’s time.”
Nancy laughs and pulls you into her own hug.
“I’ll keep him safe,” she whispers into your ear, and you exhale shakily. The weight of everything has finally settled in. You can’t believe you’re doing this. A part of you feels like you’ve just solidified something horrible, not agreeing to come along, but the other part of you, maybe even the larger part, is secretly relieved.
You’re not sure what to make of it.
“Thank you.” You whisper back, squeezing her tightly.
When you break apart, you pull Jonathan into yet another hug. “Stay safe, bee.”
“I will.”
“Good,” you pull away and give the two teens a thumbs up. “Break a leg, go expose some weird government agency!”
–
True to your word, you cover for Jonathan and Nancy the rest of the day. Teachers ask where they are and you simply tell them they both had a family emergency. Thankfully, due to living in such a small and rundown town, they don’t question it.
After school, you head over across the street to the middle school to go pick up Will and Dustin. Since Jonathan drove you to school and took his car with Nancy, you’ll have to hitch a ride on your brother’s bike pegs to work.
When you reach the school you walk towards the bike rack, expecting to see the boys all standing there about to leave, but you stop when you realize that they aren’t.
Huh. Odd.
You wander around. It’s been years since you’ve been inside the middle school, and the hallways are filled with memories. You walk towards the AV room, figuring they’re probably there to discuss whatever new project they’re working on. As you round the corner, you hear pounding and a girl’s voice demanding to be let in.
Speeding up, you spot Max with her angry fists. “Guys! What’s going on? C’mon!”
You watch for a moment, curious as to who this girl is. Dustin spoke highly of her, yet her brother is the worst person you’ve met in your life. She has an anger in her, that much is obvious, but then she grabs something from her bag and begins to pick at the lock.
Hm, she’s smart.
“Need some help?” You ask her.
She looks up at you and frowns. “And who are you?”
“Y/N Henderson. Unfortunately, the idiot that I’m assuming is locked inside the room is my brother.”
“You know how to pick a lock?” Max asks, eyeing you up and down.
Shrugging, you say, “can’t be too hard.”
Max seems to accept that as an answer and slides over, making room for you to crouch down next to her. You help her jimmy the paperclip into the door. Then, you hear some muffled yelling from the other side. What the fuck has your brother gotten up to this time?
“I’m gonna put a leash on that kid,” you mumble, and Max laughs.
“Do they do this a lot?”
You blow a piece of hair out of your face. “Yeah. They’re weird, honestly–”
The lock clicks, the door flings open, and suddenly a tiny, slimy creature comes scampering out the room. You hear the boys curse and before you can get up and out of their way, they come crashing into you and Max on the ground.
“Shit!” Dustin knees your forearm and you groan.
“Y/N!” His eyes widen when he sees you. He’s been caught.
Max gets up. “What was that?”
Lucas ignores her. “He’s getting away!”
“Who is getting away?” You’re finally up as well, watching as the boys start to scramble around in a panic.
Mike, seemingly unsurprised by your sudden appearance, turns to you. “Dart!” Then, in annoyance, he turns towards Max. “You let him escape!”
“What the fuck is a Dart?” You’re freaking out now. Lucas, hearing your confusion, can only shrug his shoulders at you.
Then, Dustin angrily advances towards Mike and starts yelling in his face. “Why did you attack him?”
Mike doesn’t say a word, he just starts to run down the hall. Dustin, even more in a panic, screams at him, “Don’t hurt him! Don’t you hurt him!”
You grab at your brother’s jacket and fling him back, now incredibly fucking angry. “Dustin Henderson, you have three seconds to explain what the fuck is happening.”
Lucas, Max, and Will stand back, frightened by your anger. Dustin, the only one who ever seems to face this anger, gulps. “I can explain.”
“Start. Talking.”
And he does. He explains how he had found Dart last night, thinking it had been some new lizard breed previously undiscovered. That’s why he hadn’t let you into his room. Then, to prove he was some scientific prodigy and, which he doesn’t tell you but you suspect, to impress Max.
“I was about to show Mr. Clark before Mike came in and took Dart. According to Will…” Dustin looks over at Max, lowers his voice, and whispers to you, “he’s from the Upside Down.”
And there it is.
There, the dread that has been creeping up on you ever since you saved Will, comes crawling up. You knew this would happen eventually. It’s happening again. You were right.
God, it’s happening again.
Thank fuck you stayed behind with the kids.
You want to throw up, crawl into a ball and pretend nothing else exists anymore, but Dustin is looking at you with fear in his eyes and you know you have to be strong for him. For all the kids, now. “Okay, let’s split up and find Dart.”
Dustin nods and sends Will southbound, Lucas westbound, and Max towards the gymnasium. You go with him, both because he’s your brother and because you have a few choice words you’d like to say to him. Everyone takes a walkie and splits up.
Mike is already long gone, which you’re not surprised by.
After everyone leaves, you snap at Dustin. “Thanks so much for telling me about Dart, by the way.”
“Y/N…”
“What exactly did you think you’d do with that thing hidden in our house?”
“Continue to hide it from you–ow!” Dustin rubs the back of his head.
You continue to walk. “You deserved that.”
“I did.”
You laugh, but then you feel a sense of static behind you. You turn around, but there’s no one there. But the static had felt like the same electricity that had accompanied El’s powers last year, but… No. She’s gone. You know she is.
Brushing it off as paranoia, you continue to keep an eye out for Dart. “So, what does Max think about all this?”
“Mike won’t let us tell her.” Dustin says, annoyance in his voice.
This doesn’t shock you. “I get why. I mean, we all almost died last year.”
“Yeah, but she’s different. She’s cool, I think she could be good for the party.”
Dustin seems so eager, and you feel bad for denying the boy. “She’s too young. You’re all too young for this. We can’t rope her any further into the Upside Down. It wouldn’t be fair to her.”
Your brother sighs. “I mean, I guess… but–”
Will’s voice suddenly comes through the walkie. “Guys, I found him.”
“Where?” Dustin fumbles with the walkie, almost dropping it in his frantic rush to answer.
“In the bathroom by Mr. Salerno’s.”
“Copy that.” Mike says.
You look over at Dustin. “Race you to the bathroom?”
“You’re on.”
The two of you start to run, and at first you’re winning. But then you forget that you haven’t been in the school for at least three years now and you take a wrong turn, misremembering where Mr. Salerno’s room is. “Shit!”
You backtrack, but Dustin is long gone now.
By the time you get your bearings back, Lucas, Mike, and Max have all run down the hallway towards the bathroom. You join them as you all run inside. Dustin is standing in the middle of the bathroom, which you find strange.
Mike looks around. “Where’s Dart?”
“I don’t know. Not here.” You eye your brother, but he averts your gaze.
“Will said he was here.” You remind him, but Dustin doesn’t respond.
Mike curses and starts checking all the stalls.
“Maybe Will has him?” Dustin says, but you keep an eye on him. Something isn’t right.
You’re about to call Dustin’s bluff, accuse him of lying, when Mike suddenly freezes. He looks around, then turns to you. “Where’s Will?”
You turn around and finally notice that yeah, Will isn’t here. But he had just radioed from the bathroom.
“I… I don’t know.” Fear settles in you now, and you have an awful feeling that something bad is about to happen. After his episode from the night before…
You run out the bathroom, the first to start looking for Will.
-
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Rent a Dam
Hey yall, I just wanted to share the first chapter of a very successful fic of mine on AO3 called Rent a Dam.
Note: OMEGAVERSE, 'Dam' is the genderneutral term for the birth mother of a child in ABO world that I use, ALPHA X ALPHA X OMEGA pairing. POLYAMORY. Kiribaku are MARRIED so expect intimacy there. Reader is kept genderneutral but is referred to as a femme (all Omegas or fem betas).
Kirishima and Bakugou are an Alpha couple which comes with its own challenges, but what they desperately want, are pups. Pups to have and call their own. To raise and watch grow. And the only way for them to get that, is through you. An Omega who is more than willing to help them.
“As you know, Bakugo-san and Kirishima-san, we handpick our Omegas based on their fertility and mother skills. Only the best Omegas are allowed to be part of our program and to be chosen as suitable birth mothers and surrogates.” Mrs. Kubota explained as she sat on her cushioned chair in her office.
The two Alphas that sat opposite her on another softly cushioned couch both faced her, quiet. Kirishima leaned back against the back of the couch, nodding his head ever so often as he listened to her. His long hair was tied back in a ponytail as to get out of his face. Bakugou however had his arms folded as he sat up straight. His gaze was harsh and intimidating but he was open to whatever she had to say- or at least he was trying to be. The Agency ‘New Chances’ was one of the only agencies in the surrogate and birth mother business that met their needs as well as was eager to work with two Alpha males.
Mrs. Kubota continued. “So our Omegas won’t be a problem at all. They have been trained in childcare, know basic lifesaving and know exactly what to expect during this process. Now...” She put her hands together. “Then comes the topic of your careers.” She spoke. Both Alphas knew this conversation was going to happen either way, but it didn’t make it any easier to have to tackle. Mrs. Kubota picked up their file and opened it on her lap. “Now we are honoured to be able to cater for such prestigious individuals such as yourselves, but we have to be concerned for our Omegas. As we understand it, you are both high ranked ProHeroes. You are constantly faced with life and death scenarios every day. We worry about this stress being put onto the Dam of your choice as well as fear of the both of you being away. Pregnancy for Omegas is a very intimate time which needs a lot of catering for.”
Kirishima looked to Bakugou if he should answer but the blond lifted his hand, indicating that he would do so. “We have it all sorted. We plan on alternating weeks until we go on parental leave during the third trimester.” He revealed to her.
Mrs. Kubota clapped her hands with a bright smile. “Wonderful. That will do splendidly.” She closed their file. “Now...” She reached over to the side to get a pile of envelopes. “Here are a few candidates we recommend based off of your profile. They understand and are easily adaptable especially for your hero work.” She placed the envelopes on the table in front of them. “Call me once you’ve made a decision.” She told them. She stood up and left the room.
The two of them were left in a warm sunny room that was made to put everyone in it at ease. It had windows that overlooked the city as well as soft items and comfortable chairs. Everything was designed and put to ensure that everything that happened in the room happened without any hostility.
Kirishima leaned forward grabbing a few of the files in his hands and placing them on his lap. He opened the first one, sniffing inside it. The scents of the Omegas were placed inside with a little handkerchief. He sniffed it some more. “How about this one?” He passed it to Bakugou.
Bakugou took one whiff of it before instantly pushing it away from him. “Way too sweet. Smells like a sugar coma.”
Kirishima chuckled as he worked open the next one. “This one?”
Bakugou didn’t even have to put it too close to his nose before almost retching. He covered his nose instantly. He snatched the envelope out of Kirishima’s hands and closed it before throwing it to the other couch. He stared daggers at it. “Smells like death.”
Kirishima shook his head. “Come on Katsuki. Every Omega we’ve ever tried to date, you always have some problem with them.” He spoke truthfully as he opened one that he didn’t find unsettling. He pulled the document out, looking over their profile. “This one smells too sweet, that one’s too small, this one’s too docile, the other one’s too feisty.” He shook his head. He passed the document over to Bakugou to look through. “How are we ever going to find the one that’s for us if you keep pushing everyone away without a fair chance.
Bakugou’s crimson eyes looked over the white document. His eyebrows furrowed. “I hate golf.” He shoved it back in its envelope. Kirishima rolled his eyes at his partner. “Look Eijiro, maybe an Omega just isn’t for us. That’s why we are here.” He looked over to the redhead. “We aren’t looking for a mate. All we want from this transaction are pups. A litter. That is all.”
Kirishima frowned as he scrunched up his face but he nodded.
When they were both in high school Kirishima had developed a crush on Bakugou. Now at first, he thought it was just his admiration for the guy. Bakugou was just someone you would admire. His strength, looks, ambition and courage. Bakugou was someone people strived to be like. One of the other things were Bakugou was pretty. Absolutely beautiful in a non-Alpha like way. With a body that slowly developed into having a broad heavy chest, slim waist, piercing eyes and hypnotizing legs, he was the envy and want of anyone with eyes. The only problem Kirishima had was that Bakugou was an Alpha.
And Alphas didn’t normally mate with other Alphas.
Now it wasn’t as though Kirishima didn’t like femmes. He was attracted to anyone he couldn’t help himself being attracted to, but with Bakugou it was different. Especially because Bakugou was his best friend. Kirishima also knew that Bakugou didn’t like anyone and never talked about femmes or mascs or anyone in general. Bakugou just wasn’t the type to seem to like romantic interactions, let alone friendly ones.
It was by pure mistake that the two started courting. There was a festival outside of the city and the two of them went along with some other classmates but got separated. Isolated and finding a place to watch the fireworks away from others, the two of them were alone. Kirishima couldn’t help himself. With the light of the fireworks in the dark sky shining on the blond’s face he couldn’t help but stare and fantasize. The next thing the two of them knew, their lips were against each other and suddenly they were kissing. Kirishima pulled back, head fuzzy and slightly dazed. Bakugou was speechless, his face red and his eyes wider than normal as he stared up at Kirishima. Realizing what he had done, Kirishima took a step back. “Oh my... Katsuki. I’m so sorry. I didn’t- I... we...”
Bakugou was silent for the most part not having expected it nor knowing what to do in such a situation. Unlike a lot of his classmates, he had never experienced an romantic relationship at all. Hell, that was his first kiss. He went through ruts of course and knew as much as the next Alpha but still. Bakugou’s eyebrows furrowed before looking away from Kirishima. “If you wanted to kiss me... you could have just asked.” He muttered quietly, his cheeks heating up more and contrasting with the cool air of night.
Kirishima’s eye went wide as he looked down at Bakugou. “I... I thought... you like Alphas?” He tried quietly.
Bakugou’s face scrunched up. “I...” He started. “I don’t know but...” He looked over to Kirishima hesitantly. “I do like you.” He muttered, trying not to seem weak as his eyebrows furrowed. Kirishima’s eyes widened as he stared down at Bakugou with wide eyes. Bakugou tsked at the look on Kirishima’s face. He shook his head. “What? I thought you were into the whole pretty Omegas with their sweet scents and round bodies.”
“I mean yah but...” Kirishima took Bakugou’s hand softly. His large hand wrapping around his gently and carefully. Bakugou froze for a moment. He looked down and then back up at Kirishima. Kirishima smiled over at Bakugou. “I do like you.”
And they went off from there. Yah, it was hard being an Alpha couples. They received some backlash from the media and from some people, but now a days it was a more accepted thing (same dynamic relationships). They had developed a sort of exchange of their own. They had found a way to make it work. Two Alphas. Alphas that run on strength, aggression and power. They made it work and made a relationship that would work.
The only issue is now, they felt like they needed something more. There was only so much one could satisfy their Alphas. Now their hearts ached for a family. Coming home to little pattering feet and bright smiles. They wanted pups. They wanted something to protect and call their own.
But Alphas couldn’t have pups. They couldn’t reproduce on their own. Which was why they needed an Omega. It was why they needed someone else.
Bakugou grabbed an envelope off the counter and tore it open. He started to mutter annoyed. “How hard is it to choose one Omega.” He grumbled to himself. Before Bakugou could continue in his grumbling, he paused. The scent that came from the envelope he opened didn’t set him off. It didn’t annoy him or make his nose itch. It was calming. It made him calm. It wasn’t so strong and yet it still called to him like a siren. Bakugou’s pupils expanded at the smell as he looked down into the envelope.
He sniffed into the envelope, a little more eagerly. He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. Bakugou reached inside the envelope and felt for the soft handkerchief. He pulled it out of the envelope and brought it closer to him. The scent that came from it stirred something in his Alpha almost instantly. It shook him in a way he had never been shaken instantly by an Omega’s scent before. It wasn’t sickeningly sweet but it also wasn’t plain. It was comforting and lulled him almost. His Alpha seemed to be in agreement, eager for this choice.
The scent would go so well with his and Eijiro’s. Perfect for pups. Perfect for mate.
“Hey Eij...” He let out quietly. Kirishima hummed turning his attention back to Bakugou. The blond was focused down on a handkerchief in his hand. He seemed so focused on it as if it was some sort of puzzle. “Tell me what you think about this one.” He carefully offered it up to Kirishima.
Before Kirishima could even brush his fingers on the soft material, he smelt it. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. He took the handkerchief and raised it closer to his face to smell. He closed his eyes. It reminded him of the first time he smelt Bakugou’s scent. It gave him the same feeling. Something strange that he couldn’t put a word to. A longing? A need? He wasn’t sure but he liked it. It gave him a similar feeling of unity. Of family.
Kirishima opened his eyes, his pupils wider than they were as he looked down at the soft piece of silk in his hands. “I swear Katsuki, if you say you hate this one-”
“No, that’s why I asked you.” Bakugou replied, calmer than he expected himself to. He looked between his redheaded partner and down at the cloth. His eyebrows furrowed. He took out the piece of paper from the envelope to read what was on it.
Kirishima moved closer to sit next to the blond to see what was on it. “Y/N...” He whispered out the name on the paper.
On it was a picture of you. A great picture. One with a soft smile on your face to match your scent. The document held all they needed to know about you. Your birthday, your education, credentials, likes and dislikes, your last heat as well as the number of litters you had so far.
Zero.
Kirishima looked to his blond partner eagerly. “I think they’re it.” He stated simply.
Bakugou was quiet. He didn’t have anything bad to say about your profile, which was a surprise to him. He could always find something to say about anyone. He frowned. With a soft annoyed growl at how clueless he was starting to feel, he tsked. “Fine.” He folded his arms and motioned for Kirishima to go to the door. “Go tell the old bat of our choice.”
Handing the handkerchief over to Bakugou, Kirishima stood up and went to the door. Bakugou turned his head to look out the window down at the busy city. Of all went successfully, you would be moving in with them in a few day. If all went successfully, they would have pups in over a year. Bakugou spaced out for a moment, not focusing on anything specific.
“Katsuki.” Bakugou blinked as he turned his attention back to Kirishima. The redheaded Alpha came to sit back down where he was previously. He carefully took Bakugou’s hands, his expression soft as he looked down at him. “It’s going to be okay Kats.” He assured the blond. Bakugou’s shoulders lowered slightly as he released a breath. He closed his vermillion eyes. Kirishima chuckled bringing a hand to Bakugou’s cheek. He placed a kiss on his forehead and then rested their foreheads against each other. “I know you’re worried and a bit fearful but there’s nothing you have worry about Kats.” He assured Bakugou quietly.
Bakugou looked up at the large Alpha in front of him. His smile of sharp teeth and soft candy apple eyes shining brightly like they always did. Bakugou couldn’t help the small smile that went to his face. “Okay.” He nodded.
Kirishima leaned back, keeping an arm wrapped around Bakugou’s shoulders. “Also, don’t look at them as though you’re plotting murder.” He advised. “We don’t want to scare them off.”
Bakugou turned to Kirishima with an offended look. “I don’t look that way!” Kirishima raised an eyebrow with a single glance. Bakugou hesitated to respond. He folded his arms over his chest and tsked. “It’s not my fault that people misinterpret my facial expressions.” He defended himself.
Suddenly, the door opened. Walking into the room was Mrs Kubota, followed by you. You had a sweet smile on your face, following the Beta woman. Instantly, you had all of Kirishima and Bakugou’s attention. You smelled just like your handkerchief, but better because you carried your scent with you. You didn’t seem nervous, especially when you noticed two Alphas in the room instead of a typical fem-masc couple.
Mrs Kubota motioned for you to sit down where she previously was seated, but you waited a moment. You faced the two of them. “Good morning, it’s great to meet you.” You greeted, then you sat down.
Mrs Kubota nodded her head to you in approval before turning her attention to the two Alpha ProHeroes who had none of their attention towards her. She found that just perfect. “Gentlemen...” She placed her hands on your shoulders. “This is Y/N. They are to be the birth-dam of your choice, correct?” She asked.
Both Alphas looked at you for a long moment. They didn’t say anything, but they kept their eyes on you and your entire being. The blond had his piercing crimson eyes, that of a deep blood and of the most aged wines. He looked at you as if he could see right through you. As if your whole being was no match for his gaze. However, the redhead next to him, even though he was so large and a bit intimidating, had the softest eyes that looked at you as if you were a new chance, a new possibility for greatness. His eyes weren’t like the blond’s eyes. His were a soft candy apple red. Sweet and had almost a hue of pink to them, but so unnoticeably that it was still red.
The both of them looked at one another, before turning back forward and nodding their heads. Mrs Kubota smiled. “Wonderful. Y/N...” You looked up at her. “This is Kirishima Eijiro and Bakugou Katsuki. The Alpha couple that you will become a birth-dam for.” She informed you. She looked up to the two Alphas. “They will move in with you in a week’s time.”
***
Bakugou stood in the doorway of a room. It was empty. Untouched since they had the whole house built, but at the same time it seemed to hold so much possibility. It was one of the many rooms that were yet to be filled and yet he couldn’t help but find it pleasant knowing that it wouldn’t be long till it was. He closed the door to the room, closing it off for now. He turned around and walked over to the other side of the second floor.
He was heading to the more lived in area, where his and Kirishima’s room was. Turning to a door to the right, he opened the room inside, stepping in. The nesting room was done to perfection. Boxes of your nesting material was in one corner of the room, untouched, unopened and waiting for you. The rest of the room was brightly lit with heavy curtains by the windows. There was a window ceil at the end of the room, a door to an in-suite bathroom and to top it all off in the middle of the room was a huge floor bed with tons of nesting material piled on top of it. Neither Bakugou nor Kirishima knew what exactly you would need so they just bought a whole lot of everything hoping to know through time.
Bakugou looked over the room one more time. It was clean of any spec of dust or dirt. He made sure that nothing would trigger you here. He also knew that this would be one of the few times he would actually get to be in the room before you move in and until you invite him and Kirishima inside.
Satisfied with the room, he turned to head back downstairs. His hand was on the rail as he descended to the first floor. Waiting for you to arrive, he went to the kitchen, snacks already prepared for you if you were hungry. As he looked over the kitchen table, he fiddled with the silver wedding ring on his finger. He breathed out a heavy breath as he closed his eyes, putting his hands on the white counter.
He wished Kirishima was here and that the redhead didn’t have had to go to work today. They were going to spend the next week off work and here with you while you settled in, but Kirishima had left early to finish some last paperwork left for them before you came around. Kirishima was always the better one out of the two of them when it came to dealing with Omegas. Bakugou was worried that he would mess up. That it wouldn’t end up the way they wanted it to be.
But he didn’t have much time to think about it since the doorbell rang.
Instantly he straightened up, red crimson eyes looking back to the door. He took out his phone as he walked to the front door.
Katsuki: They’re here
Bakugou stood on the other side of the door for a moment, his hand resting on the doorhandle. The moment he opened the door was the moment that it wouldn’t just be him and Kirishima. Even though this arrangement wasn’t permanent, even though your role was just to give them pups and nothing more, you would be with them. You would be a member of their household and someone they would have to look after and protect with their lives.
There was no going back on this.
With a deep breath, he opened the door.
Standing there holding a duffle bag was you. You had a bright smile on your face as you stood next to Mrs Kubota. Mrs K looked to Bakugou and you both bowed to him in greeting. “Good morning, Mr Bakugou.” She greeted him first. “Here I have brought you, Y/N.” She told him with a kind smile. She motioned to you who seemed rather relaxed for this whole situation. “Take good care of them for me.” She told him. Bakugou nodded his head. “Of course.” He told her sincerely.
“Great.” Mrs Kubota placed a hand on your shoulder, taking your attention. “Be good, dear. Report in regularly and don’t hesitate to call if there are any problems. Alright?”
You nodded your head. “Yes ma’am.”
“Good.” With a final wave, Mrs Kubota walked back to the black car that brought the both of you out here.
You turned your head to look back to the blond. Bakugou towered over you easily, his eyes just as intense as when you first met him. He looked back down at you for a moment, not saying or doing anything.
He was much taller than you thought he would be and very good looking too. The scent he seemed to carry around him was something savoury and yet sweet. Caramel and smoke, with something like cinnamon undertones. It was a strange scent for an Alpha, but it suited him. His big build clearly showed all the hero work he must do, yet somehow, he remained slender through it all.
Bakugou felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, which finally helped him snap out of it. He stepped to the side, allowing you through to get inside. You bowed your head in gratitude as you walked past him.
The house was extravagant, but it had a soft homely feel to it. As you saw from the outside, it stretched out and was huge but, on the inside, it seems all rather spaced out and airy which was nice. You looked around with wide eyes at it all. The clean home that awaited you and would now be your place of residence for over a year.
As you took off your shoes, replacing them with slippers, Bakugou pulled out his phone to look at the message he received.
Eijiro: Great! Do your best Kats. I’ll be there soon.
Eijiro: 😘😜
Bakugou rolled his eyes but smiled slightly. He put his phone away as he watched you look around the house with wide eyes. Bakugou then realized that he hadn’t taken your bag yet. He internally hit his forehead. Quickly, the blond walked past you, taking your bag off your shoulder without difficulty. You looked at him surprised but you gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you. You have a beautiful home, sir.” You complimented him.
Bakugou stopped walking, gripping the strap of your bag. He looked back to you with a raised eyebrow. “Thank you. Also, don’t call me that.”
You nodded. “Alright, Dynamight.”
“Don’t call me that either... unless I’m in my hero costume.”
“Alright, Bakugou-san.”
Bakugou paused and sighed heavily in dismay. He tried to remember what he had learnt over the years. He can’t always shout whenever he’s annoyed or angry. Bakugou turned around fully to face you, one hand in his pocket, the other holding your bag. “Bakugou and Kirishima is fine, if that is what makes you comfortable. No need to add the honorific. We wish not for there to be any unnecessary distance between us.”
You understood what he was trying to tell you. You were going to be staying here for a while and being close to them is a necessity in pup development too. You nodded your head. “Of course. I completely understand.”
Bakugou just looked at you hard for a moment before turning back around, walking deeper in the house. “Are you hungry?” He asked you.
“No, but thank you for asking.”
He just let out a hum as he walked over to a staircase. You watched him for a moment as he started climbing the stairs. The Alpha paused, noticing that you weren’t following him. He turned his head to look back at you. “Waiting for an invitation, cupcake?” He asked. You quickly scrambled to follow him as he continued his ascension up the stairs. He turned left. Going down a short corridor, he opened a door. “You’ll be staying with Eijiro and I.” He informed you, allowing you into the room first.
The room was wide and open, with a huge bed to the right. There were soft cushioned chairs here and there with a fireplace too. You noticed two doors. One led into a bathroom, the other seemed to be a closet. Once again you were left with a gawking expression as you walked inside, Bakugou following behind you. Bakugou walked into the closet putting your duffel bag on a little cushioned cube before walking back out off the closet. He motioned for you to follow him as he exited the room.
He walked to another room just opposite the master bedroom. He opened it but this time, stayed in the doorway, allowing you to see a nesting room. You looked around with wide eyes, your gaze instantly catching on your nesting items untouched to the side.
Bakugou leaned against the doorway. “You’ll be nesting in here.”
“I don’t have a choice?” You asked turning to him. Instantly the blond stiffened, seemingly not having thought about you might not liking the room. You chuckled, waving a hand down. “I’m joking. It’s perfect, thank you for the nesting room.” You told him genuinely.
The blond Alpha scowled with a grunt, clearly not happy with your little joke. It just made you chuckle to yourself. Since this room was the one room you were in that smelt neutral it felt like a fresh start to you, which meant that you felt like nesting. Like an itch at the back of your mind you needed to scratch. “Can I nest for a bit?” You motioned around you to the room. “To get the whole room settled and everything?” You asked him.
Bakugou hadn’t thought you would want to nest immediately, he thought he would at least get the tour done, but it would be best to let you get settled in your own way and relaxed than forcing you to do something else. Besides, he didn’t want a throw a spanner into things when you were feeling comfortable to nest in the room. If anything, it made his Alpha perk up in a pride knowing that you were okay nesting so quickly. Even if it was more for you then for them.
He nodded his head. “Of course. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything. Just call.” He closed the door to the room, leaving you alone.
“Honey, I’m home!” Kirishima opened the door, as he came back from work. The smell of food cooking greeted him more than welcomingly. Taking off his shoes and closing the door, Kirishima was more than happy to be home, especially knowing that you were now here. It was something that he was looking forward to through his day, but at the same time, made his day longer.
Kirishima walked to the kitchen, the blond Alpha already standing in the kitchen cooking something masterful no doubt. “Sorry I’m late. The UA interns needed to be taken back to UA after helping out in a bank robbery. All that paperwork is no joke.” He walked over to Bakugou who was facing the stove, he wrapped his arms around the blond’s slender waist and placed his head on top of his. Feeling that his mate was truly back Bakugou relaxed against Kirishima’s big frame with a breath making Kirishima chuckle. Kirishima placed a kiss to his head. “Omega driving you up the walls?” He asked.
“They haven’t come out.” Kirishima gave him a confused look as he tilted his head. Bakugou, feeling satisfied, switched off the stoves and turned around to face Kirishima. He folded his arms with his brow furrowed. He motioned upstairs. “They’ve been nesting the whole afternoon.” He told him.
Kirishima perked up at this. Then a broad smile went to his face at the news. “Well, that’s amazing.” He said truthfully. “I didn’t expect them to nest on the first day.” He said truthfully.
“Yah, well now they haven’t left the room and I don’t know what to do.” Bakugou threw his hand up in the air in exasperation.
“Wait…” Kirishima closed his eyes for a moment as he tried to think. “So, you haven’t checked in on them since?” He asked the blond Alpha. Bakugou opened his mouth, but he hesitated. He grimaced at the realization that he sort of just left you to do whatever you wanted upstairs. Kirishima looked at him in amusement and disbelief. He shook his head. “Come on Katsuki.” He turned around, heading out the kitchen.
“But Eij,” Bakugou quickly double checked on all the stoves and the oven, before following the giant redhead in his pursuit in finding you. He easily caught up to Kirishima who had already reached the stairs. “We can’t just enter their nesting room.”
“I never said we will. All I’m saying is we check in on them.” Kirishima told him simply. Bakugou still had a confused look on his face as the two ascended the stairs. Kirishima thought best to trying to explain why this was important. “Remember Kats, them nesting is them creating a place where they can feel safe, especially now that they’re living in an unknown place with unknown Alphas for who knows how long.” Kirishima motioned to the both of them. “So, us checking in on them and making sure that they are okay, will show that we care about their well-being and their nest even if they don’t show it to us ever.”
Bakugou furrowed his eyebrows as they finally reached the second floor. He let out a grunt as he looked off to the side. “I don’t see why it has to take so long to build a nest.”
“Nesting is an art.”
“It’s something, alright.” They found themselves standing outside the front door. Kirishima motioned for Bakugou to knock. Bakugou looked at Kirishima as if he was crazy. “What? Why me?”
“Katsuki, it’s a wooden door.” He stated simply. “I’ve seen you blast open two-inch steel enforced doors open with a single blow, are you really going to not knock because of a single Omega on the other side?” He asked with an amused raised eyebrow. Bakugou huffed as he crossed his arms looking away from Kirishima. Kirishima let out a chuckle at the blond Alpha’s behaviour. He knocked on the door.
“Just a second!” They heard from the other side. Kirishima gave Bakugou a pointed look. Bakugou ignored him. Before either of them could say anything, the door opened just enough for you to poke your head through without showing your nest or anything inside. Your eyes widened at the ginormous redhead. Bakugou already towered over you easily but with Kirishima standing here he made even him seem smaller. Kirishima was around a good five inches taller than Bakugou. He had a broad sharp toothed smile on his face but what really got you was the eyes. The eyes you saw a few days ago. The ones filled with kindness and good intent. You smiled matching his broad grin. “Afternoon big guy! It’s good to see you.”
Kirishima was like an excited puppy as he looked to Bakugou with wider eyes at the nickname. It only made the blond roll his eyes. Kirishima then looked back to you. “Its great to see you too. Are you doing okay? We wanted to check in on you since dinner is right about ready.”
“It is?” You asked with a high raised eyebrow. You scratched the side of your head in shock. “Have I been stuck here for so long?” You asked.
“Yes. Yes, you have.” Bakugou answered you bluntly.
You chuckled not thinking much of Bakugou’s attitude as you switched off the lights to the room. “Sorry Bakugou, I kind of just left you all alone. I’m sorry.” You apologised with a soft smile.
The blond Alpha looked at you a bit taken a back before letting out a soft growl. Not at you, but at the fact that he had allowed himself to let you apologise when you had done nothing wrong. He looked away from you. “Don’t apologise, idiot. It’s fine. You did nothing wrong. If you want to fucking nest, then nest. Be my guest.”
Kirishima rolled his eyes. “As you can see here, Katsuki isn’t the best at communication, but he tries.” Bakugou opened his mouth to say something to Kirishima, but the giant redhead just kissed his forehead, instantly making all the words the blond Alpha had to say, evaporate. You watched slowly as his face turned pink as he just turned around fully, huffing as he grumbled. You couldn’t help but giggle at him. He was rather cute. Like a cute angry puppy. Kirishima smiled before turning to you. Seeing as you were not uncomfortable with see them be affectionate towards each other, he saw it as a good sign. “How about you come down for dinner? Kats is an amazing cook.”
“Sure thing! I can’t wait to taste.” You smiled as you closed the door, following them downstairs.
-Glitch1d
This was just the first chapter that I'm uploading onto here. All other chapters are on AO3 which you can access on the link below. Thank you for all the love and support I've experienced writing this fic<3
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#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou x kirishima#kirishima x reader#alpha kirishima x reader#alpha bakugou x omega reader x alpha kirishima#alpha bakugou#alpha bakugou x reader#alpha bakugou x omega reader#alpha kirishima eijiro#alpha kirishima#alpha kiribaku#poly kiribaku x reader#kiribaku x reader#kiribaku x y/n#kirishima eijirou#eijiro kirishima x reader#kirishima eijiro x reader#omega reader#mha omegaverse
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And They'd Find Us In A Week - Chapter 10
Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader
Word Count: 6.5k
Synopsis: Here!
Playlist: Listen up!
Tag list: - @melancholicmelanin, @yvy1s, @glomp-me, @honethatty12
A/N: a lot of yall are gonna be mad at me, but let me cook real quick. Trust 🙏🏾
Past (xi) - You
[21 & 22] - DISTRICT ELEVEN
You tighten your coat around you, burrowing into the warmth as you walk.
To the left of you, dairy cows moo distantly, some grazing the open land while others stay tucked away in their barns. To the right of you, you pass empty victor houses. Once upon a time, District Eleven used to produce an immense number of victors. Certainly not as many as One or Two, but a strong contender right next to Four. It makes sense. Compared to what the citizens here have to face day to day, the arena is a welcome change. And tributes from Eleven develop a skill set that’s meant for survival at a very young age—one step away from being careers in your own right.
Eleven has always been incredibly rebellious. But after the Uprising a few decades back, which the citizens refer to as the First Movement, Eleven lost any good standing with the Capitol. In its place came droves of Peacekeepers and more oppressive rules than there were people. With them came the inability to train children, malnourishment, and conformity. They make sure to teach all about it in school, making sure students know just how far their district fell. Once a powerhouse worthy of rubbing shoulders with the best of them stands one of the most ‘primitive’ and militarized districts in the nation.
The remaining houses are left without any upkeep and are abandoned to fall apart.
As a victor, you're afforded some leniency by the Peacekeepers, but not much. Just enough that they won't find it suspicious that you’re carrying a blanket-covered wicker basket. Regardless, you keep it close to your side and it knocks into your calf with each step.
Winter is the worst time in Eleven, though it doesn’t last long. It doesn’t snow often, since it’s so far south, but the ice is just as bad—if not worse. Not many people can survive the subzero temperatures, let alone crops. So, though it seems impossible, what little rations they give the people are shortened even further. The only plus is that it isn’t harvest season—there are so many crops to collect that children are pulled out of school for weeks at a time to help.
You remember what it feels like to be hungry. To be forced into the orchards to harvest pears, apricots, and Mandarin oranges—some of the only crops that can weather the cold, small hands stiff and your stomach numb with pain as you endured the freezing winds. You had friends when you were younger, other children that worked alongside you. Very few of them survived through the winter.
They give victors more food and money than they have any right to. So once a month you pack up food that you, Chaff, and Seeder have gathered and journey to the poorest part of the district. You don’t take it all at once, that’s far too risky. You spread out the trips over several days at different times so the Peacekeepers on the clock don’t notice a pattern.
It’s not an easy walk by any means. You reside in the wealthy part of Eleven and you use wealthy in the loosest sense of the word. The mayor’s family, doctors, Peacekeepers, landowners, and victors. Your destination is almost on the complete opposite side of the district from the Victor Village. Far away so the rich don’t have to see the harsh reality that the citizens live in.
It’s never been explicitly said that you can’t give out food, but it’s certainly implied. You try not to think about what they’ll do to you if you’re caught.
You wave at the few people you pass and avert your eyes as you walk past the whipping post. There’s only one. The Peacekeepers line up anyone who’s committed an offense and thrash them one by one. Most of the time, the people are innocent. Everyone has to watch, no one can intervene. It’s stationed beside the deck they conduct the hangings on. People avoid the area if they can.
You pass open farmland and empty cotton fields. The further you walk, the more run down the buildings become. Until the houses aren’t much more than shacks guarded only by the hulking trees surrounding them. You relax. The Peacekeepers don’t patrol here. They’re certainly supposed to, but even they can’t stomach the squalor.
The kids spot you first, they always do. Little heads popping up from behind trees and shouting your arrival.
“She’s here!”
You laugh as they surround you, jumping up and down and shooting rapid-fire questions your way. You know that more would greet you if they could, but they likely can’t move. Huddled up in their homes and crippled by hunger or the cold, but probably both. The commotion draws adults toward you. An older woman with graying curly hair and sunspots on dark brown skin steps out of the gaunt-looking crowd. Elm, she's the de facto leader here.
A man, Maple, takes the basket from you with a smile and walks into one of the buildings in the far back to stash the food away. You pull more wrapped food out of the hidden pockets on the inside of your coat and hand them off.
You have a system in place. You’ve been doing these deliveries for a long time. You trust them to distribute the goods to those who need them the most. Everyone here looks out for each other. Even if the kids aren’t theirs, an adult won’t let them go hungry if they can help it. It truly takes a village. You would know. After all, you used to live here.
The Shacktowns mainly exist because there are too many people in the district, having reached overpopulation decades ago. Living here is preferable to having to pay for food, clothing, and a house that’s seen its fair share of price gouging. From what you’ve seen, the clothing in the Shacks is somehow worse than what Districts Ten or Twelve get to wear. It’s all ill-suited for the temperamental cold. So in exchange for working in the fields and forests under horrible conditions, the people get free housing and food. Clearly, both benefits are incredibly lacking.
It’s all the illusion of choice anyway. Only three percent of the population works outside of the fields, that’s including the Peacekeepers. You’d be hard-pressed to find anyone who doesn’t work on a farm, a grove, an orchard, or a plantation.
Elm pulls you into a hug once your hands are free and you lean into her warm embrace. She’s been as old as the dirt on the ground for as long as you’ve known her, but it feels like she’s rapidly declined every time you see her. She’s well and truly sick and she has been for a long time now. No one knows what it is or what effects it’ll have on her. Medicine isn’t readily available here. And you don’t think something that simple can help her anyway. Sadly, she isn’t the only one. You just hope this information doesn’t get out.
If anyone orbiting the elite circles found out just how many people were sick here, they wouldn’t send them to the Capitol to get help. They’d see it as a waste of resources. They’d let them suffer and die or have them put down if they’re feeling benevolent. Again, Eleven is heavily populated. The lives here have very little value outside their abilities to work. If they can’t do that, what purpose do they serve?
What use is a horse with a broken leg?
She pulls away, hands on your shoulders as she looks you over. “You look good, healthy.”
“I can’t say the same for you.” You raise a brow at her hunched frame. She’s a tall woman with the endurance of a mule. She’s a decade younger than Mags, but she doesn’t look like it. But, as you’ve learned after touring the districts, manual labor ages people.
“And you,” you lean back as she wags her finger in your face, “inherited that mouth from your daddy. It’s gonna get you in trouble one day.”
‘’You’re getting worse.” You note, ignoring her attempt at diversion. The kids disperse, running back to the forest they were playing in. You know they won’t go far enough to reach the thirty-foot-tall fence, but you still worry. The gate is guarded to the teeth with trigger-happy Peacekeepers who won’t hesitate to shoot on sight.
“I’m fine, honey. Don’t worry about me.” She waves off your concern and you frown, stuffing your hands into your pocket when a breeze comes through.
“My offer still stands, Elm. There’s plenty of room in the house. Me and Mama would love to have you.” She practically raised your dad, and she even made the broom your parents jumped over at their wedding. Hell, when you were born, she was the first person to hold you after your parents. She’s family and it kills you to leave her out here.
She shakes her head and you know this argument is going to end the way it always does. “You know that’s not fair. They need me out here.” She pats your cheek and finishes with no room for argument. She’s stubborn so going in circles about this will get you nowhere. You shift your jaw, agitated.
“And while we’re talking, I think you should skip next month’s delivery,” your jaw drops. “Let me explain before you start assuming. You know we appreciate everything you do for us, but you need to lay low for a while. You’re pushing your luck coming out here as often as you do, and if you get caught, you won’t be any help to anyone .” She states, making a convincing argument and effectively cutting off your protest before you even start.
You sigh. Seeder and your mom have been telling you the same thing.
“Please? Do it for an old woman’s peace of mind.” She pleads, squeezing your shoulders.
“We can’t afford to just stop coming out here entirely, but I guess it doesn’t always have to be me.” Chaff had offered to start delivering in your place, or to at least switch off who makes the trip each month.
You’re barely able to make ends meet for the people here, and this is only one Shacktown of hundreds.
“Just start looking out for yourself more, alright?” She asks and you agree with a scowl, you refuse to call it a pout though Finnick definitely would.
You don’t stay for long. You need to get back before it starts getting dark out.
On your way back, you stop by the bakery like you always do. It’s a good halfway point between your two destinations—you’ll have something to show for your trip as well as an alibi, just in case you get stopped.
You order two loaves of seeded rolls, another loaf of sourdough, and a blueberry muffin for your mom. Sage, the worker behind the counter, wraps the baked goods and pauses. “It’s dangerous, what you’re doing.” He murmurs under his breath, so quiet that you wouldn’t have been able to hear him if you two weren’t the only ones here. He hands you your stuff, waving off the tip you attempt to give him. “But it’s good. I don’t think I’d be brave enough to take that kind of chance.”
“It’s brave enough that you offer me food to give to them.” You say and mean it. What you do is only a secret to the people who aren't supposed to know. It's not just you, Seeder, and Chaff who contribute. Sometimes people give you food, and clothes, to donate—among other things. Sage has spent many nights making extra bread and pastries just so there’ll be enough left over for you to deliver to Shacktown.
Most jobs In Panem are passed down through families. Such as Caesar Flickerman, who took his profession from his father, Julius Flickerman. And Julius inherited it from his father before him, all the way back to Lucky Flickerman.
Old Mr. and Mrs. Pitsone never had any kids of their own so the mayor allowed them to adopt one of the many orphans running around the fields to train in the art of baking. They picked Sage.
He’s a meek boy despite his height, skittish and paranoid, but very kind. With light hair and even lighter skin that’s rare to see in Eleven, it’s no wonder he stood out amongst the other kids. He and his parents live above the bakery in a small home, though luxurious by Eleven’s standards.
You used to have a crush on each other when you were much, much younger. A kiss on the cheek here and there as you worked beside each other. Nothing special, but the most childish you were allowed to be. You were so envious when they took him out of the fields, you all were. He wasn’t one of you anymore, he got to work on the inside. Nobody wanted to be around him, so he was ostracized. You, angry and young, wished it was you. But now, you only wished it had happened sooner. You wished you had kept in touch.
He rings you up and you gather it all in your basket before he stops you.
“Oh, wait here for a second.” He goes through a door behind him that you know leads to storage. You lean forward and hide a handful of coins on the little shelf under the front counter where you’re sure he won’t find them until it’s time to close. You hear rummaging and boxes moving before he comes out with a wrapped parcel tied with string. “I saved a few chocolate croissants for you. We usually run out of those in the morning, but I know you like them.” He gives you a closed-mouth smile. Small, but real.
You try to picture a world where the two of you ended up together, running the bakery until you’re old and gray—maybe if you hadn’t been reaped. But you can’t imagine a universe where you aren’t in love with Finnick Odair.
“Thank you, Sage.” The bell above the door jingles as you walk out.
“Be careful!” He calls from behind you.
Walking back is always hard, having to leave them all behind to suffer while you’re allowed to go back to your stupidly big house. With its giant pillars and long, stretching brick walkway framed by old willow trees that curve into each other and make an arched tunnel. And it’s in the middle of this tunnel that you see Peacekeepers guarding either side of your front door.
Your heart stops and then starts again at a runner’s pace.
Did they…find out? You were so careful, how did they—
One of them spots you lingering a few feet away and waves you closer. You walk forward, closing the distance. And then you take hesitant steps up the old stairs, tensing up in preparation for rough hands dragging you to the whipping posts. Instead, one just opens the front door for you. That’s worse. That means your punishment is on the inside . You’d rather take your chances with the whips.
They shut the door behind you, but don’t follow you. You place the basket of goods on a nearby hallway table and walk into the living room to see your mom sitting on the couch by herself, flanked by three guards, safe.
“There you are, baby.” She tries to smile at you, a play at normality, but it creaks and shakes like a house in a tornado. “We have a very special guest. He’s waiting for you in your study.” She nods to the double doors further down the hall with even more Peacekeepers. You know who’s on the other side before the doors even open and you really would have picked the whipping post over this.
Coriolanus Snow sits in your office. Your office inside your home that’s almost seven hours from the Capitol. Snow traveling that distance? That's nothing to scoff at.
He sits with his back to you and turns when the doors shut behind you. You feel like you’re a guest in your own home.
Seeing him sitting behind your big mahogany desk is akin to seeing a fox in a chicken coop. It’s dangerous— foreboding. Nothing good can come from it. And for him to be so comfortable in the spot where you write your letters to Finnick makes your skin crawl. It’s wrong. He shouldn’t be here, in the one place that's truly yours.
“President Snow.” You say in greeting. You wrack your brain for any mentions of him coming to visit you and come up empty. Maybe there was a letter you missed, but you doubt it.
It’s dusk, the setting sun shines through the windows behind him—bathing him in golden lighting that would have made anyone else look angelic.
“You’re back,” he props his elbows up on your desk, steepling his fingers together. “Your mother said you were off to the bakery. You were gone for an awfully long time. Is it far?” Nothing on Snow’s face gives away his true intentions. If he knows about your little escapade, he’s doing a very good job of hiding it.
“Yes, it’s almost a day's walk,” You reply truthfully. When he does nothing more than hum in return, you’re quick to fill the silence. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”
“Oh, it’s no fault of your own, my dear. I’m sure if you knew I was coming, you’d have postponed your little trip, yes?” You nod like a bobblehead and he leans back, most likely confident that he has your full attention. Again, you can’t tell if he knows about the donations. If he does, he clearly doesn’t care enough to mention it. Surely, he didn’t come all this way just to sleep with you. But what else could he be here for?
“Your mother was a fantastic host in your absence.” He lifts his teacup in mock cheers to you and you clasp your hands together behind your back, nails digging into thin skin.
“I’ll…be sure to pass along the message.” You smile, pressing your nails deeper into your skin. Had they been any sharper, you would’ve drawn blood. It’s quiet as you silently observe each other. The only sound in the room is the tick of the grandfather clock and a few birds outside the window, happily ignorant of the cyclone forming inside.
He finally breaks and speaks, though break probably isn’t the right word for it. Rather, he allows you to breathe by saying something, “Do you know why I’m here?”
Under the weight of his unrelenting stare, you eventually shake your head no and it feels like admitting defeat. Like you’re not smart enough to catch on to his train of thought and you both know it.
“Of course, you don’t.” He tsks, disappointed. You lower your gaze, embarrassed. He stands and takes poised, measured steps to where your feet are rooted to the floor. He towers over you, literally and figuratively.
“I am here,” he circles you like a vulture, “to remind you of your standing. Hear me when I say this as there will be no room for misconceptions. You are incredibly privileged.”
You think you do a very good job of refraining from gawking at him like he’s grown a second head even though that’s definitely the reaction he deserves. What privilege could he possibly be talking about? You, who grew up in the poorest part of the most oppressed district. You, who’s been whored out for the safety of the people you love since you were sixteen. You, who’s lucky to see the man you love more than once a month.
You’re privileged?
"Now, I've allowed you a certain amount of freedom that not many are rewarded. Namely, your relationship with Mr. Odair," he nods to your desk where your letters from Finnick are hidden. Perhaps, not as hidden as you thought. "I’m sure you know communication between the districts is forbidden. You get away with it because I allow it. Because you are obedient, because you don't ask questions when given a task, because you have a value that many like to indulge in." Snow rubs his gloved thumb against your bottom lip. You know better than to flinch away.
"But you are not irreplaceable." He drops his hand and turns towards the room. Your lungs are cool with the breath you’re finally able to take. You should be used to his presence, and you usually are, but only when you can prepare yourself. He’s completely blindsided you.
You nod clumsily. “I know.” Really, you do. You knew Snow knew about you and Finnick, but not to what extent. You also wondered how long it would take until the both of you got pushback. You just—weren’t expecting it to happen like this.
He toys with the few picture frames you have set up on your shelf. He glances over the picture of your parents on their wedding day and a framed photo you took of Finnick in the Capitol, beaming a big grin at the person behind the camera—you. Instead, he goes for the magazine you have propped up. The first cover you and Finnick were on together. Life in the Spotlight as Told by Panem's Hottest Victors.
“Do you? It appears to me you believe yourself invincible. I assure you, you are not.” He turns to you, magazine in hand, and taps Finnick’s face on the cover. You bite your tongue so hard you taste blood. “And neither are the people you care about.”
Your throat is dry, tongue fitting uncomfortably in your mouth. You swallow and it goes down rough.
“I don’t think that at all, President Snow. I apologize if my actions came across that way. If there’s anything I can do to remedy that…?” You trail off rather pathetically.
He chuckles and cracks the first smile you’ve seen since he’s been here and it’s almost worse than his scowl. "Always so eager to please. This is not a reprimand, just a reminder. You toe the line, but as long as you do not cross it, we shouldn’t have any problems." The heels of his sensible shoes click against the wooden floor as he comes to stand before you again. "So long as you keep up your streak of good behavior, you’ll be permitted to carry on the way you have.”
“Yes, sir. I…I understand.”
He hums and goes to walk past, but stops.
"Ah, I almost forgot," he pulls an envelope from a pocket on his waistcoat and you know who it's from by the color alone, the color of sand. "You have mail." He smiles again, sharp and cruel in its kindness. It's still sealed, held between his middle and pointer finger, but you're certain he knows what the letter says already. You take it hesitantly along with the magazine.
He walks out without any farewell. The doors shut behind you. You hear shuffling and steps, but you only untense once you hear the front door open and shut. You wait there for what has to be at least thirty minutes before you even think about opening the letter.
My Star,
At the time that I’m writing this letter, it’s been two months since I’ve last seen you. I think this is the longest we’ve been apart in the past seven years. Only two months and it’s felt like a century. It’s been agonizing. It makes me wonder how I was able to survive without you for sixteen years.
I got the picture you sent me. I worry I’ll wear it thin with how often I touch it. In the absence of having you near me, I trace the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, the slant of your eyes. I carry you everywhere I go.
My hands should be in yours, fingers laced together. Instead, I use them to write to you now.
I hope I can see you soon. Dreaming of you can only tide me over for so long.
-With all the love in the world and beyond,
Finnick O.
You lean back and slide down the door. You groan, knocking your head against the wood. You never thought Snow would go as far as to threaten Finnick’s life. Especially with all the popularity he’s cultivated. It doesn’t make any sense.
You lift the letter to your face, tracing his signature. You glance at the magazine. You were both so young here, couldn’t have been more than sixteen and seventeen. Your youth is encapsulated forever on a teen gossip magazine.
You rest your forehead against his, the glossy cover cool on your skin. Your body is still trying to disperse the rush of adrenaline Snow brought with him.
“You and me.” You sigh. You’re going to need all the strength you can get. For him though, it’s all worth it.
Past (xi) - Finnick
[21 & 22] - DISTRICT FOUR
Ocean water burns his eyes as he swims to shore, his muscles strain and burn as he pushes against the current. The hot sand sticks to his wet feet as he walks up the beach and he waves to a few surfers that call out to him. It’s getting colder and everyone wants to get in the water while they still can.
Finnick has always believed that good things come to those who wait. And he prides himself on being a pretty patient man. But, and there’s always a but, that patience is as good as dust when it comes to you.
It’s been four months, going on five, since he’s last seen you.
He’s been seeing you less and less over the last two years and at this point, he’d be lucky to catch a whiff of your perfume. He doesn’t get it. It’s not like he’s lost any standing in the Capitol, and based on your letters, you’re still in high demand.
It’s not like either of you can request to come to the Capitol at the same time.
He drags himself up the stairs to the Victor Village, wood creaking under his weight. When he gets to the top, he turns left instead of right—actually heading back to his beach house for once instead of Mags’s. After taking a shower, he plans on going into town with Annie. She hadn’t asked him to and she’s been doing pretty well, becoming more lucid. Yet, there’s no telling what’ll trigger her—whether it be some kind of commotion that sounds too much like a canon or someone’s outfit that too closely resembles what she wore in the arena. He’d rather be safe than sorry.
Plus, he’s expecting a very important letter any day now.
When he finally gets to the sand road in front of the village, he hears the horn of a ship in the distance. He glances behind him and spots the biggest fishing boat in the district. The Cod Be Ever in Your Favor . He scoffs. That thing’s been around longer than he has and it’s a rite of passage for everyone to go out to sea on her at least once.
His father was a deckhand and he adored the job like it was his lover. He was rarely ever home—something Finnick was very grateful for. He never inherited that passion for the high seas and he had to learn the hard way that he’s much more adept in the water than above it. He’s crossing his fingers that the old relic capsizes one day. He’s not hoping anyone gets hurt or anything, but he will be celebrating the day that hunk of junk gets turned into scrap metal.
“On your right!” Finnick jumps to the left as a man on a bike zips past him.
Cars aren't driven down here. It’s too close to the ocean and the cars manufactured in Six aren’t built to handle the terrain. But they’re substituted by the electrical bikes fashioned specifically for the coastal towns of Four.
Palm trees sway in the stiff wind before a line of three-story buildings. He has no immediate neighbors, the beach houses on either side of his lay empty and desolate. Tributes from Four aren’t that rare compared to lower districts—the latest victor being Annie. But, with being a wealthier district, comes access to more substances. Morphling overdoses are the leading cause of death for victors in districts one through six. Followed closely by alcohol poisoning and, well, the Capitol itself. Just in the past five years, the population dropped from seven to three.
He remembers them.
Emilia Killroy, found washed up and bloated on the shore. Rían Hugh, struck by a car further into the city after stumbling into the street. He was so drunk, he wouldn’t have felt it.
Lottie MacHale and her son, Lukas. Lukas left the games mentally and physically disfigured. His game was a disaster that led to the untimely death of the previous Gamemaker and the implementation of Seneca Crane. A winter tundra that froze two-thirds of the tributes. The frostbite took the entirety of Lukas’s left leg and all the fingers on his right hand. He was found by his mother with a needle in his arm sans a pulse. Truly, it was a wonder he lasted as long as he did.
It didn't take long for Lottie to follow him. Drowned in her vomit after drowning in her liquor, but everyone always said she died of a broken heart.
He remembers them all.
He slams the door shut behind him, eager to take a shower. His swim trunks are laden with water, getting dragged down his hips from the weight. Saltwater drips between his wet feet on the hardwood floor and weighs down his hair. He slicks it back so he can see where he’s going as he walks past the living room.
He pauses, taking a few steps back to see…President Snow sitting on his couch? Finnick leans to the side to glance down the hallway and yep, Peacekeepers are milling around his back door. He bets as soon as he came in a few sprang out from wherever they were hiding to guard the front door behind him.
“President Snow. This is a surprise.” And far from a pleasant one. Finnick smiles, mask slipping into place, but Snow has unbalanced him. “What’s this all about?” It can’t be anything good. He can’t say he’s ever heard of Snow making a house call.
“I apologize for barging in on you like this, Mr. Odair, but this is an urgent matter.” He crosses his ankle over his knee and Finnick hedges into the room. Cautiously, feeling like a wary animal walking into a trap.
Briefly, he’s reminded of something you told him. You had mentioned off-handedly that you’ve eaten frogs in Eleven. He couldn’t wrap his mind around how you’d get it into the hot water while it was alive and you said you have to trick it. You put the frog in the water while it’s still cool and then slowly you raise the heat without it noticing. Eventually, the water is boiling and the frog is trapped.
“And what matter is that?” Snow stares at him thoughtfully for a moment and in Finnick’s experience, that’s never good. He hums before speaking and Finnick imagines steam rising around him as Snow cranks the heat up.
“Are you aware of what purpose keeping the districts isolated from each other serves?”
“No, Sir, I don’t.” He lies, but he’s sure Snow will give him his own twisted, convoluted reason. Finnick is well aware that Snow enforces this rule because it keeps the citizens ignorant. Ensuring they only really know about their district means there can be no real unionizing.
“Panem as a nation runs on a very delicate balance of hope. Too little and the people become despondent. Too much and the people begin to think—the people begin to rebel . For the citizens to see two victors from drastically different districts have such an intimate relationship, that complicates things.”
“...You think we’ll spark a rebellion? Just by being together?”
Snow releases a raspy breath that might have been a laugh once upon a time and the water is getting hotter. “I think it will lead to people envisioning a future where such things are allowed. I know you will cause a rebellion. You see,” he sighs, “the civilians are as subdued as they will ever be. But this will have them questioning their circumstances. It will take them out of the ‘us vs. them’ mentality they have against each other. It will make them wonder just how much they have in common and that leads to them seeing each other as people. It doesn’t help that you are both such influential figures. They will rebel, from One to Twelve, and they will all share the same fate as Thirteen.”
“Is this…because she’s from Eleven?” He knows, thanks to you, that the people of Eleven are particularly defiant in the face of the Capitol’s oppressive ruling and always have been. Understandably so considering no one feels it more severely than they do. He holds back a scoff. To think he thought Four was rebellious. At most, Four has the privilege of throwing temper tantrums knowing they’ll face no real repercussions. Eleven, on the other hand, riots knowing they’ll be punished grievously.
Snow, again, takes a moment to watch him. “Her being from that particular district does make a rebellion far more likely, yes.” He pulls a forest-green envelope from a pocket inside his blazer. The exact letter he’s been waiting for. He doesn’t acknowledge it, so neither does Finnick.
“Of course, you can continue as you have and I’ll take it upon myself to handle it. Though, I doubt you’ll like the solution I come up with. She's one of my most popular female victors. And I can admit, I've grown rather fond of her." Snow chuckles and Finnick feels sick. He looks down at the envelope clutched in Snow's hand and pictures your arm in its place. He doesn't want to think about what happened behind closed doors to make Snow grow so fond of you.
"It would be hard to replace her," Snow nods along to himself, "but not impossible."
The room is quiet for a moment before Finnick asks, "What are you saying?"
After working so closely with Snow for so long, you learn his language of non-speaking. You hear the silent threats in between the carefully crafted rebuttals. You feel the weight of his deliberate silence. So, Finnick knows exactly what Snow's saying.
Snow knows this too, which is why he says, "Don't act daft, Mr. Odair. It doesn't suit you."
He's twenty-two years old—a grown man, but, suddenly, he’s fourteen again—sitting in that chair, backed against a wall as Snow forces him to sign his soul away. He’s still that scared kid. He’s never outgrown him, because he never got the chance to grow up. Not if Snow had any say in the matter.
“As I said, this can only end in pain. It’s up to you to decide who will end up bloody. The lives of thousands over the life of one. Surely, you understand that.” He doesn’t. Finnick doesn’t understand it at all. It doesn’t matter what the other option is, he’s picking you every time without fail. He can’t imagine doing otherwise, he doesn’t want to.
“Unless you can think of something else, I don’t see any other way for us to proceed past this.” Snow moves his hand in a sweeping motion, the closest thing to a shrug that he’ll do. Finnick doesn’t understand why he came to him . He clearly favors you, so why threaten your life?
“Why me? Why are you making me choose? Wh-why,” he looks down to the floor, to the space between his feet, “Why not her?” If there was a choice on who would survive between you and him, he wants it to be you. Is that selfish? To wish you were the one given the choice instead of him. It feels unimaginable to live in a world without you, so is that cruel to expect you to do the same?
To love is to be human. To be human is to be flawed. And there’s no one more flawed than Finnick Odair.
“You’ve been around longer.” He shrugs as if it’s all so simple. “It only seems fair.” Fair. When the hell did he start caring about what’s fair? He didn’t even think that word was in Snow’s vocabulary, and, honestly, it still might not be because he isn’t using it right. There is nothing fair about this situation.
Snow uncrosses his legs and leans forward, a glint in his ghastly eyes. He looks worse every time he sees him and Finnick wishes he could get any satisfaction from it but he just feels as sick as Snow looks.
“It doesn’t,” Finnick shakes his head, “It doesn’t have to come to that. I’ll…I’ll handle it. I–I’ll end it.” The words are out of his mouth before he can even comprehend them, mouth moving faster than his brain and by the time it catches up, it’s too late to snatch the words out of the air. They float between them and they are terrifying .
Snow nods at the idea and…and he realizes it’s over. It’s all over. It was over as soon as Finnick sat down across from him, maybe even before that.
“See that you do. I trust you’ll take care of this issue without my stepping in.” As Snow stands, he holds the envelope up to his nose and takes a long, obnoxious sniff.
"Hmm, it even smells like her." His smile is nauseating, Finnick’s stomach turns at the sight of it. “Spritz of perfume? A nice touch.” His steps are unhurried, taking his time to approach Finnick’s tense form.
“And Finnick?” He pulls away before Finnick can take it from him, playing with him even now. “Go easy on the poor girl. I imagine she’ll be quite torn up over this.” The water is boiling. The water is boiling and it’s too late to get out.
Finnick says nothing, but it seems like Snow isn’t expecting him to. He hands him the letter and walks to the door without a backward glance.
Two Peacekeepers follow him out, the door shutting behind them softly, and that nags at him. How dare they ruin his life and leave like—like this was just a social call? As if this isn’t crumbling his foundations, the same foundations that support the home he’s built with you.
Snow handed him a box of matches and told him to burn that home to the ground.
He looks at the envelope, wet with his fingerprints, and Finnick…
Finnick rushes to the bathroom to vomit.
-
A/N: why'd y'all let me cook 😕😕😕 come yell at me in my inbox!!!
damn y'all were Peeta and Katniss b4 Peeta and Katniss 🤭🤭
and sage is such a peeta variant, all these Peeta variants falling in love with you
uh, an actual lil author's note moment: when watching Catching Fire, I noticed the people in District Eleven dress like black people did in the 1950s and 60s while incorporating elements from the Antebellum South. Since most of the people that live there are black and indigenous and Eleven is the most oppressed district, it makes sense. It’s interesting what the clothing the people in different districts wear says about the culture there and what kind of culture Suzanne Collins based that district on. The Shacktowns are the District Eleven equivalent to the Seam in District Twelve, but even Katniss was surprised by how badly the people lived. She basically said it made twelve look like a paradise in comparison. When I mention the rich elites in Eleven, imagine them being around the same financial standing as Katniss was before she was reaped. So…not much.
#and they'd find us in a week#hunger games catching fire#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair#hunger games fanfiction#hunger games smut#the hunger games#thg finnick#thg series#thg#the hunger games x reader#finnick odair fanfic#finnick#finnick x you#finnick x reader#finnick imagine#finnick odair smut#angst#the ballad of songbirds and snakes
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A Line from Me to You - Chapter 2
Description: Buggy finds a peculiar book on his ship. Enticed by the words contained on each page, the pirate opens up. Anonymity leads to vulnerability. What else will come from this?
(Chapter 1, check out the story tag for more chapters)
Word count: 1.9k
Warnings: This chapter is SFW, but the story will eventually be NSFW - hopefully in the next chapter. Some profanity. Buggy x afab!reader.
A/N: Little more plot-building before we get to the spice. Hope yall enjoy!!
Tag list: @lostfirefly @rorywritesjunk @theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
You read and re-read the bonus words written into your book until they flowed through your head like a real conversation. An unknown voice whispered in your ear, adding commentary, a few snide remarks and snarky responses, poignant questions, and narrative asides that you couldn’t get enough of.
The mystery of your anonymous reading buddy sat with you. It was calm and inviting. You weren’t consumed with a desire to dig inside and pull out the truth, but to let the mystery be. To let it exist like this. Yes, you did want to know whose thoughts and memories you were reading, but it wasn’t a dire need. And more than that, you wanted to keep this secret. A shared secret.
Staring at the next chapter you needed to read, the novelty plummeted as you raised a pen. It felt heavy in your hand, weighed by an awkward feeling. The back of your neck prickled, as if someone was already reading your thoughts. You felt stifled by the odd sense of visibility. Unable to connect your desire to give the story your full attention with wanting to share the book with another reader, you tried to flip those feelings and see if they would fit another way.
It was like a game of leapfrog. You read the annotations added after yours, then jumped into the next chapter you hadn’t read yet and filled in the gaps left in the margins, and, finally, you landed in a new chapter. The puzzle pieces connected as you fell entirely into the story.
Traveling with the cloaked figure, Grey, on his journey, your musings were scribed each step of the way. Phrases and words circled, emotive faces drawn near touching moments, and your own personal tidbits littered the pages. The chapter ended with Grey winning over the sullen rock golem who had been living alone as an outcast. The golem accepted Grey’s invitation to join him on a journey to save the royal family.
A few days later, Buggy was surprised to see the book peeking out of its protective hidey-hole like a mollusk. He noted its disappearance and didn’t expect such a rapid reappearance. Although it wasn’t a long novel, completing the entire journey would have taken a sleepless night or two. A small voice questioned whether the owner was upset at the additional vandalism (even if they started it) and decided to abandon the book entirely.
Filled with unease, Buggy ignored the book and went about his duties. The poisonous voice stayed quiet as the captain threw himself into work, wondering if he might avoid confronting the question and the book. A lifetime of rejection created a wide boundary of protection that the little voice hid behind, hissing unfounded fears.
The sour feelings were chased away with a mouthful of liquor later that night. While heading back to his quarters, Buggy retrieved the book and walked fast to outpace his own negativity. Although it was only the second time he had the novel, reading was easily incorporated into his evening routine. It felt familiar to him.
Growing up, Buggy was a voracious reader. Sometimes, he wondered if that’s why he needed glasses now. Maybe his eyes were rebelling against all the words he forced them to absorb - short stories, long epics, newspapers, essays, letters, tiny print, large fonts, hand-written, transcribed. Anything he could get his hands on was devoured in his spare time. Sentences were crammed into the few seconds between duties, chapters read by dim moonlight, and pages became speckled with food as he pored over the books while eating.
Over time, Buggy read less and less. People poked fun at the bookworm. They said he should be careful always having his nose in a book, it might get caught in the pages. Even lighthearted remarks about how much he read began to sting. And as he grew up, Buggy had other things to occupy his time with.
Eventually, guilt took hold in his chest. Roots grew whenever he had time that could be filled by a book, his empty hands missed the feel of pages threading through the fingers, or when he looked at the forlorn stories waiting on his bookshelf. He tried to push through the ache by buying new books that remain untouched. He even bought glasses to try and turn a chore back into a hobby, but nothing relit the spark. It all turned into dirt and manure for his remorse to grow.
The pirate never expected the pain of turning his back on something that brought comfort would be eased by a silly fantasy novel. Despite being a grown man with hair on his chest and alcohol on his breath, Buggy felt like a kid again as he sank under the covers with a good book. Instead of waiting for a tension headache, Buggy pulled out his glasses, swiped the lenses with a small cloth, and put them on. The first thing he read was a note tucked alongside his bookmark.
“Good notes! Although I disagree that the writer is a ‘self-indulgent asshat who sees the world through rose-colored glasses.’ I read ahead through the next chapter and left space for you. Please do the same and put this back in the ‘secret’ spot. I want to see if you change your mind.”
Buggy chuckled to himself. Of course you wouldn’t agree with him, you picked the book in the first place. Maybe if he pointed out more of the author’s blatant self-insert characters used to tout their poorly thought out ideals, you’d reconsider. He took a sip of alcohol and twirled a pen in his fingers.
Towards the end of the newest chapter, two things caught Buggy’s attention. First, the fucking corner of the page was folded again. Second, was a comment about the golem and “found family.” You wrote about how nice it is to find a place you belong and people you feel at home with. You felt like the golem character when you joined this pirate crew. The rock golem, named Daisy Lee, had sprouted a flower when Grey extended his hand and companionship. The little heart next to that sentence was a punch to the gut.
Buggy the Clown knew first-hand how it felt to find someplace you belonged. In fact, he’s heard that from his crew countless times. After fights, successful raids, parties brimming with alcohol, any situation full of emotions were bound to be followed with freaks professing appreciation for their captain. But this was different. You didn’t know who was reading these words. You didn’t intend to share them with the captain himself. These weren’t words of performative devotion, honeyed sentiments, or feelings brought forth by adrenaline, but inner-thoughts shared during your own personal time.
It was late and his body was tired, which meant his emotions were delicate. That’s why tears collected in the corners of his eyes before slipping down his heated cheeks. Exhaustion and alcohol. Fingers attempted to fit under his glasses to wipe away the saltwater, but the legs tugged on his ears and the frames dug into his forehead. Buggy dabbed away what he could in the confined space and rubbed the back of his hands on his wet cheeks to dry them. With a face redder than it was moments ago, he swallowed the rest of the sober emotion with the alcohol in his glass.
---
The next time you found the book, there was another note for you. A short sentiment and a gift.
“Stop folding the goddamn pages. I don’t care if this is your book, I won’t give it back. Use the bookmark.”
The bookmark guarding the edge of your reading area wasn’t anything special. It was just a bit of paper that could have come from anywhere, but the edges were carefully torn into a long rectangle. The scrap used to mark the other reader’s progress was ripped haphazardly and shaped like a squashed kidney. Rolling your eyes, you folded the corner of your new gift. You’d use it, but on your terms.
You followed the same pattern as last time, reading the new notes, the next chapter, then a new chapter. And your reading partner followed suit. Bookmarks jumped over each other, like checkers. Stories were swapped, emotions unlocked, betrayals occurred (the first of which was you creasing the bookmark, which was acknowledged with a little angry face), foes defeated, heroes injured, feelings exposed, and so much more. You wrote about leaving your family and village behind, like some of the adventurers. The other person wrote about not really knowing their family. Not in a story, but as a passing comment to what you scribbled. Unsure how to respond, you simply wrote that you were glad their journey brought them here.
Weeks passed as the book exchanged hands. One night found you hunched over in bed, following your reading buddy as you raced through the final chapter. The sea was as restless as your beating heart, each wave and thump growing erratic through the climax.
Worn down and weary, Grey and his companions approached the castle. Moss and vines decorated the worn stone structure. An abnormal breeze carried the sweet stench of decay. The rustle of leathery wings and tell-tale stomping emitted from the courtyard ahead. Grey turned to Daisy Lee and Jack, readying himself to go ahead on his own. To his surprise, Jack clapped a hand on the man’s cloaked shoulder and nodded to their stone friend, who marched forwards, toward the dragon.
You silently cheered with each blow the heroes dealt and gasped with every set-back they sustained. The fight raged on in your white-knuckled grip, with Daisy Lee crumbling into a smaller version of themself, and Jack throwing himself in front of Grey, only to be knocked out.
Grey shouted in anguish and charged forwards. Landing a mighty blow on the dragon, the fierce beast collapsed with a pitiful roar. Smoke poured from it’s mouth and nostrils, filling the courtyard. Through the fog, Grey could just barely see the large shadow shrink. As the smoke cleared, a naked figure lay on the ground - the victim of a curse. It was Prince Shaia. Grey’s brother.
The rest of the story was wrapped up in two pages. There was a whirlwind of activity when Grey rescued the rest of the royal family, revealed his lineage to his companions who readily accepted the information, Grey’s rapid ascension to the throne, and the multitude of changes he immediately put into place across the kingdom to end every single plight, hardship, and minor inconvenience he encountered. The story ended with the sun setting on a utopia, with no mention of issues implementing new rules and systems or discourse about the kingdom changing hands to a previously unknown individual.
You sat silently for a moment, mulling over the ending. It was an enjoyable story full of adventure and whimsy, but the conclusion was rushed. Very rushed. The last paragraph had a bracket drawn on the side and an arrow pointing to a little face sticking it's tongue out and a note:
“I haven't changed my mind. This wouldn’t happen so easily, it’s so unbelievable-”
Frowning, you scribbled a retort before finishing the rest of the note. “It’s a fantasy book. Of course it’s not believable.”
“-I have a book we can read next. I guarantee it’ll be better than this.”
A buzzing filled your head and reverberated down to your chest. You kept reading the message, studying each individual letter constructing the words that warmed your body. The beating of your heart stopped using adrenaline as fuel and channeled the rushing endorphins instead. You hoped that this secret relationship would continue, and to see that feeling reciprocated filled you with so many fluttery feelings that you couldn’t tease them apart.
“Okay, I’m trusting you.”
#eventual smut#buggy x reader#buggy x you#x reader#buggy the clown#buggy the clown x reader#buggy op#opla buggy#one piece buggy#hey-august a line from me to you
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Let’s do another one, shall we? This one might be a little more…freaky.
(Any Chaos Astartes)
*Your Astartes been more affectionate lately. Slowly persuading you into his “nest” where he finally has you right where he wants you. Stuffing you full of his clutch.
*You don’t even realize whats happened until you’re whimpering out in ecstasy. Too drugged up on his scent/pheromones.
*Oh, you’ll make a wonderful mother to his brood.
(Too freaky?)
Day 16
I am frothing. I love oviposition.
Pairing: Pumpkin chaos astartes oc x reader
Warnings: oviposition, sex pheromones/ chemically induced arousal, space marine husbandry with full sized astartes
Making the warnings bigger so yall dont miss it. But I'm gonna say it's all consensual
I'm going to make more for this in the future I think
When I'd found him out in the wilderness I hadn't expected to bond with him so strongly. I couldn't even really tell what legion or chapter he'd been a part of.
Chaos, that was what the apothecaries told me and I was instructed to move forward with caution. I called him Pumpkin as a sign of affection. It was the nickname my mom used to call me. He liked it alot. Answering me eagerly when I called for my Pumpkin. Perhaps I should have tried to learn his real name first, now he won't tell me what it is. He only answers to Pumpkin.
But I liked him. He was a good housemate, keeping tidy and he was affectionate for someone I found in the woods.
He took up the old room I gave him, and it quickly became a cozy place as he scrounged old furniture from curbs.
I made him clean them thoroughly before he could bring them in. But it became a really sweet set up.
After he was done with all that he seemed to shift. It was nearly imperceptible at first. Just more touches here and there. Going out and bringing back fresh foods he'd foraged with him.
Checking in on me, marking dates on the calendar with little stars. As if he was tracking something but he wouldn't tell me what. He spoke in broken English, but he was still learning the language, and I had learned just enough of his High Gothic to communicate.
I thought about going out to acquire another astartes. The forums said if you could have more then one they learned new languages quicker.
When I brought it up with him, he absolutely lost it. Yelling “No” in more than just two languages.
I was shocked but dropped it. But he was oddly distant after that, taking his dinner to his room to eat alone.
That night I went to the forums and tried to find out more.
[Hey all. My chaos astartes is strictly against me getting another astartes. Why,]
NewlyChaotic:
“Hey all,
I ‘adopted’ my chaos astartes about five months ago and everything has been great so far, but I had been wanting to open my home to another perhaps. But when I brought it up to Pumpkin (it's what he likes me to call him, I don't know why)
He lashed out badly and wouldn't talk to me for hours and went to bed.
I only brought it up after reading that astartes learn and operate better in groups generally.
Even chaos aligned.
Any advice would be greatly appreciated, I feel so lost and just want my Pumpkin hugs back. ;^;
I wanted and soon my thread had a response.
Salamander_Sheila🐉:
Hey @NewlyChaotic,
Sorry to hear about your troubles. It happens sometimes that astartes grow bonded to their baselines and just don't want to share. He might feel like you'll replace him if you bring another astartes into your home.
As for the chaos aspect, what legion is he?
NewlyChaotic:
I'm not sure, his armor looks like it was scrubbed clean of paint and he has no livery that I can discern. He's normally very sweet and I love him to pieces, I could never replace him.
Salamander_Sheila🐉:
I get that. I love my boys to bits and wouldn't ever want to hurt them.
Maybe he left his chapter/warband.
Also my friend @ShadowyMistress has a few chaos boys. She might know some things.
ShadowyMistress:
I have been summoned?
Yes I have many different chaos astartes. They're really sweet when they actually like you lol. :p
NewlyChaotic:
So is his behavior normal?
ShadowyMistress:
Seems it. However you should look out if he starts to make “nests”.
Some mutated astartes begin to take on more animalistic traits.
He might try to breed you. Which, I mean if you're down for that then Godspeed.
Salamander_Sheila🐉:
It's pretty rare, but romantic connections can happen.
I would know.
I let that digest for a minute. Turning to look towards Pumpkin's door.
My heart thumped harder at the thought and I felt uncomfortably warm.
My love life had been pretty lackluster. Hadn't had a date in a hot minute.
I shook my head, I'm sure it wasn't that.
NewlyChaotic:
Thanks for all the help guys. I have a lot to mentally chew on with his.
Salamander_Sheila🐉:
Talk to him, as best as you can.
If he's not proficient at English it's okay. Astartes are good at sensing intent and feelings.
Be open with him and if you mean it, tell him you don't plan on replacing him with anyone else.
Good luck with Pumpkin, and you can shoot me or Shadow a dm if you need. We're usually around at this time.
NewlyChaotic:
I will. Night guys.
I logged off and shut the computer down.
The side table lamp was on and I knocked on the door softly. He wasn't an early sleeper so I knew he'd still be up.
There was a soft “Yes?” From the other side, I cracked the door open and called in.
“May I come in?...Please?”
I waited, my chest feeling tight for some reason.
“Yes.”
I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding and stepped in.
Pumpkin was at his desk. It looked like he'd been watching a nature documentary on the laptop I'd gotten him. I was happy he'd been enjoying it.
The words of the girls on the forum flashed in my mind. ‘Just talk to him..he'll understand the intent.’
“Hey, I wanted to apologize about earlier, I didn't mean to upset you.”
He looked at me with green gold eyes that seemed to understand what I was trying to convey.
Perhaps he understood more of my language than he could speak.
He turned to me fully and put out his hand. I took it and shivered at the contact. His hands were so warm.
“I don't want you to think I'm trying to replace you, not at all. I care about you Pumpkin. I just read that you astartes tend to do better in groups. And I was worried that being here with me wouldn't be enough to make you happy.”
I hadn't meant to spill that fear to him, but it was out now and I couldn't take it back.
He pulled me into his arms. Hugging me with so much understanding and affection. It felt amazing to be held like that.
“You are…enough. I am.. I am happy with you.”
He had to think through his words as he spoke and I returned the hug.
“I'm so glad. I just want you to be happy and healthy.”
He nodded and kissed the top of my head, it made me giggle.
I let him go and he did the same. But he raised his hands and gently touched my chin.
“I love you.” He chirped on High Gothic and I wasn't sure what he'd said but I didn't press.
“Well, I'm gonna get to bed. I have more work to get done in the morning.”
I hurried out, feeling a tad bit light headed. His touch had left me feeling hot for reasons I couldn't explain.
I was going to need a shower. Probably a cold one.
I watched her go, my hearts pounding. Too little, I noted. My pheromones hadn't built up enough. I opened up the journal on the miniature computer system my beloved had gotten me.
I needed to record this interaction. It would be important to show our sons in the future. After they were here of course.
It hurt to lie to her. I loved her, but I couldn't risk her finding out I knew everything she'd said.
And if she brought an intruder into our home, our nest. My cover would be blown and our children's safety compromised.
I loved her, but she could be so silly.
Standing, I shutdown the computer and chuckled. No incense needed, no fancy oils. I liked these little machines.
It was late and I needed to finish touching up the place where I would make our family, my new warband of sons, a reality.
It was such a shame that the old one lacked vision. That they refused to accept the gifts of our patrons.
Our numbers would have grown and we would have been unstoppable. Able to take anyone we pleased to grow our numbers.
I had had to do it, to cleanse them from existence. They turned me away, called me disgusting. A shame to kill so many brothers and cousins.
But what if they told others?
I'd rid myself of their colors, their symbols, their outdated ideals. I was my own man now. I would have a warband that was loyal and not full of naysayers and old ruins.
The prince of pleasure and the changer of ways had given me such wonderful gifts.
I just had to have my little darling here with me in my nest. My pheromones were the strongest here. And she'd been too busy to notice that I moved my couches to block in the corner.
This would be the most comfortable place to fill her with my clutch.
I rearranged the pillows again, and pulled more blankets I'd gotten into the pit.
Perfect.
Her door was never locked. A good thing really, she was so beautiful in the moonlight. Dreaming soft dreams.
Were they of me? I know what few dreams I had were of her.
They had been since I'd first seen her in the park. Plotting how I would find my way to her. The whispered promises of my patrons in my ears.
But then, she found me first. It was fated. Truly it could not have been any other way. I had to be hers. She had to be mine. They told me so.
I liked the new shampoo she used, it smelled like desert flowers….like home.
“I love you.” I whispered again. My fingers brushing over her still damp hair. I would feel it more when I took her tomorrow. I would let her work while I made ready our love nest.
She would be mine. And her body would hold our sons. The prey I brought for her to feast on had been nutrient rich and her cycles had proven that. Tomorrow was the perfect time, peak fertility.
Oh so many clutches would her body carry for me.
I kissed her lips softly and slipped back to my room.
Soon darling. Soon.
The alarm I'd set woke me and I stretched rolling out of bed.
The smell of food wafted to me as I stepped out into the hall.
“Pumpkin?”
There was an answering grunt from the kitchen and my astartes came into view. Cooking up a balanced meal, as was his habit.
“Anything fun planned for today?” I asked, knowing he likely wouldn't reply.
“Well I have to finish up that last chapter and get it sent in. My editor's been on my butt all week over it.”
I felt his eyes fall on me. But he didn't reply verbally, just bringing me food without asking for anything in return.
I smiled and took the plates.
“I don't deserve you. You're too good to me.”
I was surprised when he wrapped me up in his arms, hugging me and nuzzling the top of my head.
He'd been doing that more and more often.
“Thank you, Pumpkin.”
“You are welcome.” He sighed happily.
“You remembered the response. That’s great.” I looked up and our noses touched briefly.
Just to be a stinker I kissed the tip of his nose.
He shivered and pulled away to look at me, he looked a bit confused and oh so adorable. I giggled, I couldn't help it, somehow the towering mass of muscle was just too cute.
“Sorry, it was simply too good an opportunity to pass up.”
He nodded and leaned down to kiss my nose in return.
I giggled again and he went to his chair. I told him about my chapter and the climatic finale I had planned and how those plot points would lead to the next book.
He listened with patience and nodded, even if I wasn’t sure he understood all the details.
He took my empty plates and put them in the sink.
“Have a good day.” He hugged me and I hugged him back.
“I’ll do my best. Just for you.” His eyes lit up at that.
She was becoming more affectionate in return. My patrons must be right. It had been too hard to pull myself away. But I needed time to continue to make the nest perfect with the final rituals. I retreated to my room, several bags of snacks ready for the trap I had set.
At around 1:30 I finished up my last edit and sighed, saving my document again for the thousandth time and sent it off to my editor.
I heard Pumpkin’s door open and went to see what he was doing. WHen he saw me his eyes lit up and he waved me over.
“Hey you, guess who officially finished their book?” I gestured to myself. “It’s me!”
I stopped at his door and he took my hand. The lights in his room were dim and comfortable.
“What’s all this about?”
He’d rearranged his furniture making a blanket and pillow bowl. He’d set up his laptop with snacks and the show we’d been watching together. The room smelled strongly of him and something sweet. I was going to question what he’d used but suddenly I just didn’t mind.
And hell, I could use a break and a treat for all that work I'd done.
I let him take me to his blanket pit and climbed over the couch.
“So what’s on the menu today?”
“You my beloved.”
I pressed play and pulled her down into my lap. She obliged and I had to once again fight to simply have her then and there.
She fit perfectly against my body and I could feel myself getting hard. I needed to calm down. To let her find herself naturally ready to mate. I could smell it on her. Her fertility.
The episode was good, but I kept losing my focus on it and looking down at her. After an hour she seemed a bit woozy. Like she had been after that party. She’d worried me then, but now I knew what clouded her mind and it wasn’t any drink.
I smiled, it must have looked deranged for as much glee and anticipation I felt.
It was impossible to focus now, I was so needy now that I had half a mind to just leave and take care of myself. But I didn’t want to. I wanted to be close to Pumpkin. I wanted to pet him and kiss him deeply. He was so handsome, nothing like what those forums said about the chaos chapters.
“Pumpkin?” I breathed, my head felt light as I looked up at him, his green gold eyes boring into me.
“Yes?” Mmm, his voice, gosh I could listen to it all day.
I turned in his lap and did something I never thought I’d do. I kissed him, full on the mouth. He flinched with shock and my brain shorted out. The world spun and I was under him.
The blanket pile smelled like him and I buried my face in it. Something nagged at the back of my mind but I ignored it in favor of space marine smell. Pumpkin moved away and I whined, making grabby hands for him to come back.
My body was being shifted, although I wasn’t sure why and I felt him return the heat of his skin on mine making me moan.
His hands took hold of my thighs and something pressed at my entrance. I was too giddy to look down, the instinctual part of my brain hollered again and I knew what, but I found that I didn’t care.
She yielded to me so beautifully, her body was ready and I slipped in with a groan and she let out a silvery little cry under me.
Her hands clawed at my chest, trying to pull me down closer to her.
I let her, and took her chin in my fingers, holding her as I pressed her down into the blankets, kissing her hard. The mother of my sons. Too perfect, too warm and tight. I wondered if she would accept me forever. I would happily make her my little wife. She could write her books while she tended to our sons.
I pulled out, rutting back into her. My cock was perfectly tailored to allow me to push the tip into her cervix without hurting her. Just one of the design choices that the changer had gifted me. It would allow me to cum in her and not waste any of it.
That cum would prepare her body for what came next. My clutch, those seeds that would mature and grow till she was able to lay them. It would only be a few of them. BUt soon I’d be able to fill her. Her body would grow accustomed to them.
But for now, I loved her body with my own.
It was like heaven, his body moving against me, and in me. The warmth of his body over mine and his lips stealing kisses.
I cried out again as he pressed in deeper, every thrust was pure delight. His cock brushing over every spot conceivable that might make me see stars.
My nails racked over his skin, leaving angry red scratches behind, he moaned and it made me want him even more. It was like candy to my brain, a sugarly sweet addiction.
“Pumpkin.” I squealed as he wrapped his arms under my back and hugged me tight to him, leaving barely enough room to breath.
His hips jack hammered into mind, making cohesive thoughts impossible.
But what should matter to me? It was an otherworldly level of pleasure. No one had ever made me feel this good.
The force of his thrusts and the pure bliss sent me over the edge, It felt like my body was twisting inside as my eyes rolled back and my back arched almost painfully into him.
The noise that came from me didn’t sound like one a pleasure i’m sure, but my body burned with even more need, the need to be filled.
Her nails cut into my thick hide, drawing droplets of blood and I felt even more in love with her. So strong for someone so small. I could feel her loosening and the tip of my cock slipped an inch into her womb. The perfect place for my clutch.
I came into her. The thick ropes of my love conditioning her for the final stage. The prince promised me that it would make her body accept my clutch, giving her the feeling of being pregnant. So her body wouldn’t reject my sons.
They moved down from their place of holding in my abdomen and I groaned deeply as I felt them pass from me and into her. I petted her hair as she gasped and writhed under me as the eggs stretched her.
“There, there. Soon my love. You will bring forth our sons.” I soothed her kissing her cheeks and temples while three lemon sized eggs were deposited into her.
I stayed inside her till she fell asleep in my arms. A soft smile gracing her lips.
“My love, you cannot imagine the joy you have brought to my life. And the joys you have yet to bring.”
I rolled onto my side making her comfortable as she pressed into me. I placed a blanket over her.
I had a journal entry to update.
My Dearest sons,
You were conceived today. And your mother was more perfect than I could have ever dreamed.
#warhammer 40k#warhammer#my writing#warhammer 40k x reader#adeptus astartes#chaos astartes#space marine x reader#space marine oc#mating press march#Space Marine Husbandry
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Blood in the Wine-3
Chapter Three: Nightcap
A/N: It's finally here! Thank yall, for being patient, I appreciate all the support of the last two chapters. Shoutout to @asterionex for being a baller. As always, ask box is open xoxo
Reader x Vampire!141
Word count: 2.9k (a little shorter, sorry)
Warnings: blood, biting, suggestive elements, vampirism, mild dubcon but nothing explicit. Soap being a jackass.
Songs for this chapter: West Coast Smoker by Fall Out Boy, actually pretty much the whole Folie a Deux album. Feel free to send song recs or let me know if yall'd want a playlist.
MASTERLIST, CH1, CH2, CH4, CH5, CH6, CH7
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You flinched as Soap strutted towards you, closing your eyes and mentally preparing for the sensation of his teeth sinking into you. But then… his footsteps kept going. He walked right past you and you opened your eyes to see him sitting down at the end of your bed.
"C'mere," he said, patting the spot next to him. "Let me take a look at your bites, see how you're healing up." You hesitated, still wary of a trap. "Listen, bonnie, I'm no' gonna bite you 'til I have your permission. Now come here and let me see." He seemed genuine enough. But then again, so had Kyle. You were skeptical, but you figured you didn't have much else to lose. So you walked over and sat next to him rigidly. He held a hand out. "Give me your arm." You reached across, slowly, cautiously to present your arm to him.
He took it ever so gently into his hands, fingers barely grazing over the marks that had faded even more since you'd woken up. He studied it with raised eyebrows.
"Wow, you're healing faster than most. Fucking miracle, that is." He lifted the arm up to his mouth and you jerked away, but he caught your wrist in a vice-like grip. "I already said I'm not gonna bite. Just gonna work some magic," he said with a wink and leaned down to close the gap. You watched as he lapped at your healing wound, slow and sensual, and pulled away with a kiss. "There, that's better."
You couldn't believe your eyes. The bite had healed completely. Maybe he really was magic. He leaned closer while you looked at your arm, baffled. He swept your hair away from your neck and looked at you, silently waiting for approval. You looked into his eyes- those beautiful ocean eyes- and nodded almost imperceptibly.
He grinned as he licked and kissed your neck, painting healing wet strokes across your skin. You were breathing heavily now. You couldn't deny the way his mouth felt against your skin.
"Heartrate's pickin' up," he whispered against your skin. He chuckled under his breath, the sound of it rippling down your spine. "Turn around, let me see your shoulder." His hands made their way to your waist to guide you to face him fully, and you molded to his movements like putty. He pulled the sleeve of your shirt up to see the mark Ghost had left on you, a shocked expression replacing the one of relaxation that had been there a moment before.
"Jesus Christ, Ghost really did a number on ya, eh? Look at that!" He was laughing. His hands brushed over the bruise in an almost fascinated way. You were rudely awakened to the fact that you were in the arms of a man who had tried to kill you only a few days before. You shot off the bed and out of his grasp, hands moving to cover yourself. You felt naked under his eyes even though you were fully clothed.
"Ah come on, lass, I was only joking. Sit back down." You didn't budge. "You wanna keep that big purple spot on your shoulder or not?" You hesitated. "Please, just sit back down. I don't want to have to make you, but I will if I have to," he threatened with a regretful look in his eye. The last thing you needed was to be lost in the fog of compulsion. You couldn't stand to lose control like that again. So, step by wobbly step, you sat down with Soap once more, presenting your discolored shoulder to him.
"There's my girl," he said grinning, once again wrapping his arms around your middle to pull you close to him.
"I'm not your girl," you protested. He scoffed.
"Then what, exactly, do you think you agreed to tonight? Hmm?" He stared deep into your eyes, and you swear you could feel them piercing into your soul. "You think we're just 'roommates' or something?" He kissed your cheek. "Friends who get to chow down on you from time to time?" He kissed your neck. "No, dearie." He kissed your collarbone. "You're ours." He lapped at your sore shoulder, all open-mouthed kisses and lithe tongue smoothing over your soft, abused flesh.
You choked back a moan at the feeling. It was so wrong to be enjoying this- the feeling of your captor's mouth on your body. But it was oh so soothing. You could already feel the soreness dissipating. He pulled back, admiring his handiwork with a grin of satisfaction. "It's not perfect, but then again, Ghost did getcha pretty good. It'll take time to heal properly." He surveyed the other bites. "The rest of you is perfect, though, I must say," he said with a wink, letting his eyes wander...
"Where was he tonight, anyway?" You asked. You still had yet to meet, or even catch a glimpse of the man who had basically mauled you.
"You didn't see him?" Soap responded. Your blood ran cold.
"What do you mean…?"
"He was there tonight, standin' in the corner like a bleedin' creep," he laughed at his own joke. You didn't laugh. "He's a spooky lad, ain't he?" He noticed how tense you were and wrapped a massive arm around you. "Ah, don't worry too much about it, you'll meet him eventually."
"That's what I'm afraid of…" you muttered. He paused, and you could practically hear the gears turning in his head.
"Tell you what," he started. "You tell me whatever you want fer your room, and tomorrow I'll go out and get it. I'll go back to your flat and get whatever you need. I'll even get paint fer the walls if you like." His hand wandered, gently stroking your arm and coaxing you closer into him. "Just let me have a wee taste of that pretty little neck and we'll call it a night, aye?" He was so close now, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke, hot breath sending goosebumps across your body in waves. Wait.
"You went in my apartment?" You asked. He tensed up next to you but didn't move.
"Maybe."
"You went through my underwear drawer," you mentioned lightly. You let out a breath that was almost a laugh. You turned to look at his face, so close you were sharing oxygen. The ghost of a smile crept up on you when you saw his guilty expression. Like a deer in headlights. His eyes were wide, a sheepish smile making its way across his lips.
You laughed. For the first time in days you laughed. Soap looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Then he laughed with you. And for the first time since this whole thing started, you felt at ease.
"You pervert!" You joked.
"Oi, I was just trying ta get you something to wear! Figured you didn't want to be wearing the same clothes forever." His arm tightened around you and he shook you gently. You slapped a hand against his chest and he caught it with his own.
The laughter between you two tampered out and you sat comfortably in his arms, his hand holding yours against his muscular chest. You stared up into his eyes and once again you felt like you could drown in them. A part of you wanted to. He looked at you like you were art in a museum. It was different from the way he looked at you the other night. The hunger was still there, yes, but there was an admiration in them now that wasn't there before.
"Christ, you are a beauty, aren't you," he murmured. He brought up his hand to stroke against your cheek. Your hand remained pressed to his chest. "Like a bloody angel sent from heaven just for us…" His lips were so close to yours now. "Please…" His nose nudged yours. You were taken back to that night. It seemed so familiar and yet so different. There was no malice. Soap was tender with you. You found yourself nodding your head on your own this time.
The arm he'd had wrapped around you pulled onto his lap, your calves on either side of his enormous thighs. His mouth was now pressing feathery kisses along your neck. You sighed at the feeling and relaxed into his hold. There was something about his mouth that just made your head spin. His mouth reached your collarbone and he stopped. What was he waiting for?
"Gonna bite you now, alright?" He asked. You answered by sliding your fingers into the strip of hair that lined the center of his head. You felt him shudder beneath you, and then his teeth sunk into the hollow point right behind your clavicle. Your eyes rolled back on instinct.
God, it felt so different when you had a clear mind. Your body felt hot, tingling rushing down to your toes, your fingers twitching in his hair and tightening into a fist. He grunted at the feeling. His breathing picked up as the taste of you overwhelmed his senses. You were at his will and mercy in this moment, but if his words tonight were true- and you had no reason so far to believe otherwise- then you knew you could trust him. After all, Soap wasn't the one who had lied to you.
The hand that held your face so gingerly moved downward, fingers pressing into your pulse point. You gathered that he was monitoring your heart rate, making sure he didn't take too much from you.
Just as you were beginning to feel that telltale dizziness, he pulled himself off of you with a wet smack of his lips, closely followed by that magnificent tongue of his. He pulled back to catch his breath, muttering astonished curses under his breath. You could feel his eyes on you.
"You alright hen?" He asked. You didn't respond right away, head a little fuzzy from the feeling he'd given you. "Hey," he shook you. "Are you alright?" He sounded a bit more worried this time. Your eyes fluttered open to meet his staring up at you. You both stared at one another for a moment, both heavy-lidded and comfortable. He brought his forehead to rest on yours.
"Don't know what the hell you're made of, but you sure are somethin' else," he remarked. You were floating on cloud nine. You felt your world shift as his strong arms lowered you onto your back on the bed. You looked up at him with tired eyes. You weren't about to pass out, not like last time, but you were feeling significantly more lethargic.
Soap laid on his side next to you. He brushed your hair away from your face and threaded his fingers in your hair, just as you had done moments before. His fingers expertly massaged your scalp, lulling you even further towards sleep.
"Now," he started, "why don't you tell me what you need?" Your eyes widened at that. "Oh, no no! Not like that!" He corrected himself quickly. "I meant what we talked about earlier. For your room.
"This is your home now, for better or worse, so it should feel like it. At least a little bit. So tell me whatever you want, we'll get it for you. Television, new sofa, a damned diamond necklace- name it, it's yours."
You pondered his question for a moment. You weren't sure what they could do for you at this point. In this moment you felt safe lying in Soaps protective arms, but you knew as soon as he left you, that creeping feeling would come back again. This wasn't your home. You didn't know how it ever could be.
Soap could sense you retreating into yourself. He jostled your head ever so slightly.
"Hey, you still with me?" he checked.
"Yeah, yeah just… thinking…" you trailed off again. You thought back through the day. What did you need…? Then you thought of something. "A shower head," you offered. "Baths are nice and all, but I'd like to be able to take a shower, too. Just to have the option to." He nodded.
"Done. Anything else?"
"The rest of my clothes would be nice, too. And yeah, maybe a T.V.," you responded, "something with Netflix or something." He made a mental note of your requests.
"I can get you the T.V., but I can't guarantee internet."
"Why not?" You wondered.
"Same reason we can't give your phone back." Oh.
Because you'd call for help.
You were suddenly reminded of the grave situation you were in. You were being held captive here. They weren't just going to let you go that easily. These men were smart, you weren't going to catch them slipping up over something like internet access. If you wanted out you'd have to plan very carefully. But how… Soap's voice pulled you from your thoughts once again.
"If you want, we can get DVDs of whatever movies you want. Twilight, Nosferatu…" he trailed off with a laugh again. You couldn't help but join him. As your laughter settled down again, Soap sighed.
"You should get some sleep, bonnie. You'll need it," he spoke as he withdrew his arms from your body. He stood and tugged the comforter from under the weight of your body with ease and placed it over your body. You passively wondered if it was Soap that had tucked you into this bed the first time around.
"You'll have tomorrow to recover and get your strength back. When you wake up, I'll give you a proper tour of the house, and we'll get you something to eat then." Then he paused for a moment. "Wait, when was the last time you ate…?" He wondered out loud. Then his face went blank in a moment of realization. "Oh, shit! I'll be back!"
And before you could say another word, he was out the door. You heard the sound of the lock turning. How had you only just now realized how hungry you were? You supposed it must've been the anxiety of the day's events that had kept your stomach in knots. You'd been so concerned about becoming a meal that you hadn't even thought of having one for yourself!
But as you waited for Soap to return, presumably with food, you felt your eyelids getting heavier and heavier. And then they were closed. And then you were asleep. And then a gentle hand at your shoulder was waking you up. You opened your eyes to see Soap standing over you, holding a dinner tray in his hands.
“Sit up,” he said. You did as he said, rubbing your eyes. “Sorry, this was all I could find, we’re not used to having human… guests over.” He stumbled over the last part. Both of you knew you weren’t a guest here. Guests had the freedom to leave. He set the tray on your lap for you. On the tray sat a lump of aged cheese and a handful of crackers. You didn't want to know how old they were, but you could tell just from looking that they were stale as rocks.
You brought one of the crackers to your mouth and nearly chipped a tooth. Both of you winced. You dropped it back down on the plate with a clatter and moved to the cheese. Thankfully it was edible. You choked it down and handed the tray back to Soap.
"I'm sorry, it's all we had-"
"It's fine," you snapped. It seemed that eating had only made the pit in your stomach deeper. You were hungry. You were tired. You were scared. And Soap was honestly just pissing you off.
"Well, someone's hangry…" he muttered to himself.
"Just get out," you commanded. Honestly you don't know what had gotten into you earlier. Why were you being so friendly with him? Maybe your head hadn't been as clear as you had thought.
"Excuse me?" Soap interjected. He dropped the tray on the nightstand beside you rather roughly and loomed over you. You were in awe of the size of him, acutely aware of the fact that he could snap you in half without breaking a sweat. He'd been so gentle tonight, you had all but forgotten how terrifying he'd been the night you'd met.
"You should remember who you're talking to, sweetheart," he growled, voice close to animalistic. "I go through the trouble to find human food for you and you just-" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself. He opened his eyes to see yours watering.
"No, no, don't do that, pretty girl," he cooed, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you, reaching to dry your tears, but you jerked away. Your wide, teary eyes watched as he didn't back down, instead holding your face with an impossibly strong hand. "Don't cry." You felt the knot in your chest dissipate. His thumbs wiped away your years. "There we go, bonnie. That's it. Smile for me." And so you smiled. "There's a good pet." He chuckled, and you felt your own laughter bubble up again. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his. "Now lie back down," You did. "And go to sleep." And you slept.
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#cod#cod vampire au#blood in the wine#bitw#simon ghost riley#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#cod:mw2#call of duty#call of duty: modern warfare ii#task force 141#141 x reader#ghost x reader#soap x reader#gaz x reader#price x reader#ghost x you#soap x you#gaz x you#price x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#johnny soap mactavish#johnny soap mactavish x you#johnny soap mactavish x reader#kyle gaz garrick x you#kyle gaz garrick x reader#captain john price x you#captain john price x reader#Spotify
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Officer Hot
Trigger Happy AU
Part 2
Pairing: Dark!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
A/N: Tried to switch between pov and past/present some more with this one. Also, this may be a calm chapter…. But let’s just say the tags aren’t for nothing… some true colors are soon to be revealed…
Thank yall for the love on part 1, hope yall enjoy (+｀∀´)b
Disclaimer: English is not my first language… all mistakes are my own
AU Warnings: Kidnapping, murder, Mommy kink, smut, pet play, death (not main characters), framed murder, violence, drugging, angst, obsession, dub-con/rape-con | Minors DNI
Warnings Part 2: Slight stalking, impatient professor, thirsty reader
Summary: Officer Maximoff doesn’t like your roommate.
Word Count: 1357
You can’t stop. Your legs bounce under your desk, and your fingers tap a paced rhythm. You sigh in annoyance; you just can’t stop thinking about her.
/////
You had been extremely late to class.
The professor had stood there cussing you out for a good 10 minutes until he finally relented and let you sit down. When he was yelling at you, you were sure you would cry, but you didn’t. You didn’t even have to sniffle to keep the tears at bay, like when you were in high school and would tear up every time someone mentioned Mr. Wilford, your then-Spanish teacher.
It feels like you aren’t even here, your mind is hazy, and you can’t seem to pull focus. Your thoughts just keep drifting toward the redhead you practically ran from to get here. Had you known you would be late anyways, you might have stayed a bit longer. You liked her rich voice, the way she spoke with such authority.
She had stood so tall and secure when she spoke to you. Her green eyes, searching. The way she looked at you was so disarming, so… Hungry.
She had acted like she wanted to eat you alive.
…..What would happen had you let her?
The way her hot breath felt against your ear, the way she smirked at you. It was all a sweet form of domination. Would she be gentle? Would she pet your hair while telling you what a good girl you are as you kneel for her?
Or would she have fucked you right there, by the side of the road for her team, and any by-walkers to see? Would she wrap her hands around your throat and squeeze just the right amount? Or maybe she would leave bruises, show the world whom you belonged to-
“Hallo?”
You almost jump out of your seat.
Looking around with wide eyes you realize you are the only one left in the classroom, save for the professor. The professor that is continuously waving his hand in front of your face. Realization washes over you and you almost smack your head into your desk in embarrassment. Before he can question you, or yell at you, about what the hell is wrong with you. You hastily pack up and leave with a quick sorry thrown in his direction.
You feel flush, never had your fantasies taken you down that road. Especially not with a complete stranger. Your thighs rub together as you walk down the corridor; an uncomfortable amount of wetness was accumulating.
You feel a bit guilty as you wonder what the issue was. Maybe something really bad had happened, maybe someone had died. You chew your lip, nervously. Was there a reason for Officer Maximoff to question you specifically? You shake your head; you were getting way ahead of yourself.
Perhaps it was just by chance? Wrong place, wrong time maybe?
You wonder what she is going to ask you.
-------
The redhead’s rapport sits unwritten in her folder. It didn’t matter. Not when she finally has something of purpose to do.
Like the proper girl you are, you had written down your full name on the piece of paper. Wanda smiles as she reads it over and over, Y/n Y/l/n. You had been such a good girl, such a sweet little kitten.
Wanda had been researching you, and your life, for the past few hours. After you ran away from her, earlier that day, she had driven back to the station and immediately entered your name into their database.
How could someone blame her for wanting to take a peek into the life of her good girl?
Y/n Y/l/n, y/a years of age, you live two blocks away from the “crime scene”. Apartment house: Acornhouse Ave, Apt 62. You have a roommate named Jessica Maison, age 24. From what she could find on her own, you don’t use social media a whole lot.
Your roommate, however, appears to be obsessed with it. She has countless users, all of whom are updated thoroughly throughout the day. Every post is a useless picture of either Jessica’s face or food.
There is only one photo that caught her eye.
It was posted 7 months back. It is a picture of you and her, at some party, she is standing far too close for comfort, and she has her hands wrapped around you.
Wanda’s nails dig into her palm as she clenches her fists. She has to remember to breathe through her nose and exhale out her mouth. It’s best she stays calm; she doesn’t want to scare you away too fast. However, Wanda can’t just ignore the photo, you looked so uncomfortable. Like you had wanted to get away, away from that disgusting girl. She has to do something. She’s a cop, after all, it’s her responsibility to keep you safe and secure.
She has an idea.
-------
You almost moan as you set your bag down. After having to walk an extra three blocks just to get home, you were exhausted, and in much need of some food.
You lean down to unlace your Converse and put them on the shoe rack, and with a groan, you also put Jessica’s shoes in their designated place. You love her, but come on, was it that difficult to move her shoes?
“I’m home!”
“….”
Strange. You can’t recall her having a shift at the diner today? Least of all without her snickers. Your brows knit together, but you shrug it off, she’s probably just getting food or something.
As if on cue your stomach rumbles. You make your way to the kitchen, disappointed to see the lack of food, you throw in a microwavable dinner into the microwave. As you wait, you think more of what could have happened in your, rather boring, neighborhood. They had blocked off the street from this morning. So, you couldn’t get a good look, but you remember seeing a big black plastic bag before the Officer walked over to you. A body bag maybe?
You hope not.
A “pling” alarms you that your food is ready, and you sit down at the small dining table, which could barely count as a table, to eat it. Jessica always prefers to sit on the couch and eat, but you find it a bit sloppy, and you would rather not have to clean the couch every day due to your habit of missing your mouth. More than what is probably normal for a legal adult like yourself.
After a while, and a thorough cleaning of the table from your mishaps, you can finally get ready for bed. You roll your shoulders as you walk to the bathroom. You have been feeling all types of sticky since this morning and can’t wait to get it off.
As you turn on the light to the bathroom you feel a shiver run down your spine. You can’t place it, but something feels… off.
Like you weren’t the only one there, in your tiny little apartment.
You intend on just ignoring this strange feeling as it would be almost impossible to hide in this small space, but your guts tell you to just check. Just to make sure. You turn back around, intending to check if Jessica is just in her room sleeping, but something else catches your attention.
Did Jessica rearrange the furniture?
(a/n: Im sorry. I just love cliffhangers)
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MILLION DOLLAR BLOODLINE — Traición
Dealing with the case in hand, you come across with some valuable clues.
Check my million dollar bloodline masterlist for general warnings.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
pairing: Vampire/Agent Leon x Fem Detective reader
warnings: Sexism (from the press again) few mentions of gore and death, fucked up government, scent (First glimpes of Leon's vampire qualities yay)
author's note: hi... I'm writing this with one eye closed... exhaustion is taking over me and it may show in this chapter. as always, if you see any mistake, you don't. don't even perceive them. thank you so much and love yall.
“Thank God a man stepped in!”
A new headline, a new story being told. It’s rather frustrating to know that no matter what, reality would be twisted to the journalists’ desire and let the only person who actually cares about the case burn in the flames of depiction and hatred just for the ‘sin’ of being a woman.
The same shameless and brutal words are printed in a bright red that resembles the fresh blood of those leaders of the city. In many readers’ eyes and minds, they were expecting to finally see a man taking the case and bringing ‘success’ even though it’s doomed to fail.
No one grieves more than someone who has lost everything—but your right to fight is still running deep in your veins. With a grunt, you throw the newspaper on your desk, almost spilling the black coffee you were previously drinking.
It’s been less than a day since the candidate was found dead. The cause of death? Suicide which was, in a way, surprising. From the number of politicians who have “left this cruel world,” Mr Clark's scene of the crime gave enough proof that you were facing a real self-homicide case.
In front of you lay countless folders and confidential documents that the police department has collected from the first victim to the last one. The only obvious connection all of the victims shared was that all of them were Tier A individuals. People who wouldn’t disappear to find ‘the real meaning’ of life and would surely not kill themselves without a murder weapon.
So, even a rookie detective could surmise that most of those crimes were the smokescreen of something way bigger brewing in the shadows of the city. A city whose beliefs and faith in the government are so cracked now that not even the most nationalist citizens could find peace in their hometown.
A sigh leaves your lips, one that shows the tiredness in your system and heart. Sometimes, the feeling of walking in circles clouds your judgment and overall sanity. In hindsight, a detective ought to be a rightful and morally white person who would walk on fire just for the sake of truth and justice. But each time your eyes land on the atrocious clues you have gathered, the desire to throw away everything gets harder to bear.
Next to the pile of documents and boxes, on your desktop, is a photo frame which shows a younger version of yourself. Beaming pearly white smile with shiny eyes that could blind the camera itself, saying that you were happy was an understatement, you were delighted.
Truthfully speaking, you were naive. You loved to tell everyone you were going to be different, the exception of the rule, the one and only, justice bringer. But in reality, the sole fact you didn’t feel sympathy for those rich people tells you that maybe you weren’t so different.
Or were you?
Fighting between your drowsiness and the obligation to continue working on this case, you grab the envelope Leon previously gave you. A yawn gets stuck in your throat, not allowing any sign of exhaustion to show in your face right now.
The first thing that greets you is a document you quite don’t understand at first. The black words are blurry, proof of how much you need to sleep. A body can’t function without resting but you can’t function if work is due. Soft slaps around your face and a long-needed sip of the black caffeine liquid will do for now.
“Life Insurance…” Your lips work on their own as you read the title, written in black ink. The font style proves the authenticity of the document. Dated July 1979, the legal paper started with the log of a woman’s name and age.
Patricia Clark Powell, 28. American, caucasian. Marital status: Married. Children: 2. Now this is something.
Reading each word carefully, leaving no detail off the table, a rather big number got your attention. After a long overview of this woman’s life details, you come across a table that shows the life insurance payout.
The main and only beneficiary was Robert Clark, he'd inherit the absurd and grotesque amount of 5 million dollars.
But the catch here was that the only requirement to claim the insurance was the death certificate of the insured party, meaning that Patricia had to pass away.
You set aside the document for now. Your fingers graze over the corner of the paper to turn it.
A picture, no, several pictures come into your vision. All of them are colored and clear as water. The shoot is not perfect, as if someone was hiding while taking those photos.
The camera is positioned on a table. Hence the awkward angle it shows, nonetheless the main focus is on two people sitting down.
The table, the walls, and overall decorations are an obvious giveaway of the place they were in. An expensive and pretentious restaurant that only the rich can afford. A stroke to their damned egos knowing that they could buy and eat a whole cow if they wanted to. Not before wiping any crumbs with a one thousand-dollar check.
You squint your eyes and even lean forward to try and inspect in great detail each part of the picture—detective skills kicking in, you may say.
The man on the right has a neatly trimmed mustache, and bushy eyebrows that match his hair color, black. He's wearing a navy blue suit with a gray tie. Very office-like and rather different from his counterpart next to him who wears a hoodie and a cigarette between his lips. The angle showing the faintest details of a tattoo on his right hand, which holds the cigarette.
Flipping through the pictures, you see many more of them but just from different positions. Yet the main highlight is the now obvious identity of the man who exposes himself to the camera's lenses.
Robert Clark.
The last document is a newspaper headline. “CRIMINAL FUGITIVES” it reads and shows several mugshots of criminals who escaped prison over these last five years. Under the pictures, a text box includes some characteristics of the ex-prisoners. Your attention falls on a specific name.
The picture shows a man with brown hair and brown eyes, a stubble growing on his jaw and cheeks. Why was he convicted? Organized crime and contract killing, a hitman in other words. The text described the man as a 5’9 male with no moles and no notorious scars.
But a tattoo on his right hand.
Before you can even process everything you have read and seen, the ring of a phone breaks the solemn silence that has set in your office. Sliding to where the phone was, you pick up the call.
And before you could even utter a word, someone started the conversation first.
“Hey there, Sherlock.” A man’s voice greets you. Deep but smooth tone, easy to distinguish.
“Mr. Kennedy.” You reply, brushing off the nickname he just gave you. “What a timing.”
“Why is that?” Playing dumb, Leon shoots his question.
“I just finished reading the documents you gave me.” A seed of confusion is planted in your statement as you try to make up your mind with the information you just registered. “Where did you get all of this?” You say pressing the speaker closer to your mouth, whispering the words.
“Feeling curious, aren’t we?” Mock oozes from his tone, but there is a hint of genuine playfulness in his speech, as if delighted to be the one providing the confidential information. “You know… As much as I want to tell you, I just can’t.”
“Why?”
“Oh? Am I being questioned?” If you were next to him, you’d see the smirk that has formed on his face. And if you indeed were, a slap would be planted on his cheek, for sure.
Leon continues being a puzzle you couldn’t solve. From the first (and only) moment you met him, his odd and shared disdain for the rich baffled you. You can’t seem to break through the world inside his head.
“Does it feel like I'm questioning you?”
“Kinda.”
“Forget it.” You shrug, leaving the topic as it is. There’s no point in trying to make Leon spit the truth. At least, not now. “But this is truly a key piece to this investigation.”
“That I know,” Leon replies. “But as I told you yesterday, don’t do anything stupid.”
Silence fills the call as you take in what Leon said, or rather, repeated.
“Oh?” Bitterly, you retort. “So you think I’ll do something stupid? It’s funny, all of my male colleagues always told me that.”
“I didn’t mean it like tha—”
“Oh course you didn’t.” Sarcasm was dripping from your words. “Nobody does.” You add with an exhausted sigh coming out from your lips.
“No, but I truly didn’t mean it.” He finally finishes his sentence as your pause allows him to interrupt you.
“Look, sorry… I’ve dealt with these people ever since I remember and It’s just so… fucked up.” He adds. “You’re better than those dickhead detectives. I assure you.”
Now that you think about it, you may have overreacted. But then again, it wasn’t your fault. Being surrounded by people who discriminate and minimize every hardship you face, built a hard shell no one could break through.
Instead of sticking to the awkward topic and Leon’s reassuring words, you decide to change the direction of this exchange.
“Why did you call, Leon?” You ask, a tear forming in your eye due to the lack of sleep and the imminent yawn that threatens to escape from your mouth.
The polite and tactful pattern was broken as soon as his name slipped from your lips. No agent nor Mr. Kennedy. For now, he is just Leon.
Carrying a hint of embarrassment given his previous poor choice of words, he replies to your question.
“Mr. Clark’s wife is holding a funeral for him. I was going to tell you in case you wanted to go.”
His words catch your attention, the funeral could be the perfect opportunity to secretly investigate Patricia. In hindsight, a hunch tells you she isn’t involved—at least directly— in the candidate’s death. But it could give you some clues you may have overlooked.
“Are you going?”
“I might.”
You absentmindedly nod, acknowledging his answer.
“Got it…” You play with the phone’s cord. “I’ll see you there, I guess.”
The chapel shimmers with almost blinding lights. Even though the nature of a funeral is dull and gloomy, the contrast is obvious. The whole setting is the perfect opportunity to show off, once again, the money that was being spent on it. The air is filled with raw indifference and overall pure narcissism.
The lack of mourning and tears throw you off, especially when you feel like an outsider, you don’t belong here. Besides the fact that, of course, no matter how much you worked you could never afford the type of brand every individual was wearing—there is this feeling you can’t brush off.
Your eyes travel over the room, searching for the wife now a widow. It is easy to get distracted by the mingling of certain guests and hushed laughs. Time and place… you thought.
What is supposed to be a thousand agonies and a sea of sorrow turns out to be the perfect act of grief. Let God be the judge of these people who surround themselves in the miseries of others.
Amidst your judgment of everyone in the room, your task of finding Mrs Clark comes to an abrupt stop as a figure you recognize makes its appearance. Now wearing a dark blue suit, Leon’s frame is unmistakable.
He’s next to a woman, brunette hair that reaches her back. A black fascinator is perfectly placed on her head, a wave of cringiness washes over you for the choice of fashion she went with. That must be Patricia Clark.
Confident but subtle, the cackling sounds of your high heels mix with the hushed chit-chat of those in the room. At last, it comes to a stop as you find yourself behind the widow and Leon who had previously acknowledged your presence.
And for a moment, your eyes lock with the agent’s who wears an expression that could only be described as an attempt to warn you about something. But for now, you drift your attention towards the task at hand.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Clark.” You extend your hand while you introduce yourself. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Manners, of course. You couldn’t feel sorry, especially now that you know that besides being an empty-headed politician, Robert Clark was an almost-murderer.
However, you regret the fact that you chose the polite way of approaching as soon as your hand reached the air instead of the brunette-haired woman’s hand. Then, you realized this wouldn’t be as easy as you had thought.
A bemused expression forms in your face but it fades rather quickly as you remember your objective here. Taken aback, you pull your hand away before bringing them both behind your back.
Leon doesn’t seem surprised by the blatant uncordial treatment Mrs. Clark just gave you. A sneer is present in his face as if he were saying ‘I told you so.’
“Don’t take it personal, darling.” Her voice tone reeks of arrogance and a know-it-all feeling. “I’ve been here for God knows how long. My hand may as well fall off if I keep shaking hands.”
There was no reason to feel amused by the whole interaction, you have dealt with these types of people before. But, the coldness and tactlessness of her words throw you off.
“I understand.” You feign agreement as if the fact that her husband is fucking dead is merely a minor detail. “But please, allow me to share my condolences. A woman as young as yourself shouldn’t be experiencing this.”
You resort to false praise words. There’s nothing else these fuckheads love more than people licking their shoe soles and acting like they are the only people living in the world.
“It’s indeed difficult.” The woman brings her hand to her eyes, wiping the nonexistent tears that were supposed to be there. “My husband preferred to shoot himself instead of continuing being the man of the house.”
What a bitch.
Glancing at Leon, you find him crouching down in front of an infant. Given his brown hair, he must be one of the two Mr. and Mrs. Clark's children.
“Is that your son?” You ask.
“Yes…” An exasperated sigh again. As if she doesn't want to be here. In a sense, it is comprehensible but her overall personality wouldn't allow you to feel an ounce of sympathy.
“How's he dealing with everything?” And after that question, you believe Mrs. Clark will snap at you any time now.
“Like every other kid would.” She replies, sparing not even a glance toward her own child. “He prefers her nanny anyway.”
Mentally cursing the mother, your lips tug a forced smile, one that doesn't reach your eyes but symbolizes the end of this meaningless conversation.
Your eyes travel until they land on Leon and the kid. The little one's eyes seem wet with tears that he so bravely holds back.
Talking to children and elderly people was always the most difficult part of this job. Ever since you took it, those were your soft spot and Achilles’ ankle.
Leon notices your hesitation and motions you to join him. Scooting a bit, he gives you some space for you to crouch down too.
Greetings haven't been exchanged yet, instead of a hello, Leon welcomes you with a name.
“Lucas.” He whispers as you lower yourself to be at eye level with the infant.
You nod.
Lucas looks no older than 5 years old. A mop of brunette curly hair adorns his head.
“Hi Lucas…” You give the little boy a gentle and warm smile. He blinks some tears that fall from his cheeks to the ground.
There's no response, which it's okay. Unlike his mother's behavior, you know this innocent human is actually grieving.
You take your time as tiny hiccups and soft sobs keep Lucas from forming actual sentences.
“Lucas, this my friend.” It was Leon’s turn to speak. His usual chatty tone was replaced by an almost fatherly voice. “You told me you like making friends, didn't you?”
You watch as the little one slowly nods and wipes away the tears that keep rolling down his face. But this time, his sobs are coming to a stop.
“Are you daddy's friend?” He finally asks. However, the question was one you didn't expect.
“Yes.” You lie, as a detective you are used to telling white and not so white lies just for the sake of finding a bigger truth. But lying to a child wasn't something you were looking for.
“Okay…” Lucas responds and looks at both of you and Leon. A flick of light between the living hell of those pretentious people who act like they care.
“Daddy must be proud to see how strong you're right now.” Leon speaks once again and you witness how he ruffles Lucas’ hair in an attempt to cheer him up.
“You think so?” Lucas’ voice, for one, is higher than just a whisper. And for the first time, you notice how he's missing one of his teeth. “Daddy always told me to be as strong as him every time he went to the doctor.”
The word doctor set both of you and Leon off. According to Robert Clark's medical history, he was a healthy individual. No illness and not even allergies.
“Doctor? Was your daddy sick?”
“Weren't you daddy's friend? You should know…” You didn't expect to be outsmarted by a kid.
“Your daddy didn't want us to worry.” Second lie on the day, you're keeping count. “That's why he never told us.”
A pause lingers in the air as you reply to the child. It takes a while before he can answer your question as if conditioned not to talk about his father's doctor visits.
“He sometimes went to the doctor,” Lucas explains after a few seconds of reluctance. “He told me not to tell mommy or nanny. Maybe he didn't want them to worry too.”
“Was your daddy sick?” Leon asks in the same gentle tone he has kept throughout the conversation.
“Dunno…” Lucas pouts. “Doctor was also daddy’s friend.”
The kid’s naivety is providing you with more information than his mother could give you. Of course, his guileless wouldn’t serve any purpose legally speaking. But, it can give you some insight into Mr Clark’s background and motive.
And once again, you don’t have time to process the information as the rumbling of a stomach guides your attention toward Lucas.
“Sir?” Lucas’ eyes meet Leon’s blue ones. “Mommy said she’s busy… But I’m hungry.”
Leon offers Lucas a kind smile.
“Tell you what, kiddo. There’s a coffee shop near here, I’ll buy you something to eat.”
Lucas’ eyes seem to get brighter at the prospect of eating, it leads you to think how long has it been since he last ate something.
When you are turning your back to follow Leon out of the chapel—because there was no way would stay there for a second longer— you feel a tiny hand wrapping around your sleeve.
“Miss.” A pause and a deep breath. “Do you think daddy’s in heaven?”
“...”
“Yes, he is.” The third and last lie.
You tag along with Leon, both of you walking down the street until you reach a coffee shop. No words are exchanged and a rather awkward silence sets between both of you.
Your mind is somewhere else while your body works on its own. You don’t even notice when Leon asks you something, too worried about the case, too scared something bigger than you may eat you whole if you keep poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.
However, as stubborn as you could be, justice needs to prevail.
While biting the inside of your cheeks, Leon’s words bring you back from your trance. “Hey? I asked you if you wanted something.”
You come to notice that you have already walked towards the cash register. Both the cashier and Leon’s eyes fall on you.
“An Americano.”
You come up with the quickest answer you could think of. You watch Leon take out his wallet and pay with cash.
Eventually, both of your orders plus Lucas’ are called and you decide to take a break albeit your attempt at telling Leon there was no time to lose.
“So… any luck with Mrs. Newly Widow?” Leon asks as he takes a bite of his sandwich.
“Nope.” You stir your coffee and blow some air. “Didn’t know she would be so difficult to deal with.”
“Well, she’s no more difficult than you.” He replies jokingly with a feeble smirk on his face.
“Oh, you’re funny. How many times have you used that one with other people?” You retort, the sarcastic answer flying so gracefully out of your lips as if you have been ready for one of his remarks.
“See! That’s what I’m talking about.” He gestures at you. “I’m trying to be friends with you but you push me away.”
Silence dawns upon both of you as you exhale. Although Leon has been nothing but respectful—in his own way— the fear of looking polite and weak with a colleague is still very much present.
Dropping the act of being cold and emotionless isn’t something that you are looking for nor planning to do. Not until you could show the world that you are, in fact, as capable as any other man.
“Look, Leon,” You speak in a calm tone. “I don’t make friends, not in this field and especially not with men.”
As you say so, you reach for a sugar packet. No americano tastes good without sugar.
“Sorry.” You add.
There is nothing to feel sorry about. Your feelings and boundaries shouldn’t depend on someone else. Yet, a part of you couldn’t help but regret your bold choice of words.
“Hey, nothing to apologize for.” And even though he was the one who suggested the whole friendship thing, he is also the one who is soothing the waters. “I know men in general can be a pain in the ass.”
That causes a huff to slip out of your mouth. “Trying to win points?”
“Not really.” He says while chewing on his sandwich. “Besides, you’re too smart for that.”
You chuckle, finally ripping the material of the sugar packet. “Finally we agree on something.”
Drumming his fingers against the hard wooden material both of your gaze into the distance, not adding anything else to the conversation. The aroma of coffee fills the area where you are sitting with Leon.
“Lucas, Mr. Clark’s kid… you were good with him.” It slips off your tongue rather easily. A tinge of sincerity washes over your statement.
And you can observe how Leon’s face went from a resting and soft expression to a stunned one. However, after your previous comments, the awkward and uneasy feeling shifted into an amiable one.
“Was I?” Almost incredulous and even insecure. A slight trace of a vulnerable side you haven’t seen nor expected. “Thanks.”
Judging by his expression, Leon either had a soft spot for kids just like you or there’s something else you don’t know. Most agents show themselves as cold-hearted creatures who give no shit about anyone but themselves or their missions.
But it’s none of your business.
“What Lucas told us, about the doctor. Do you think it may be related to the case?” You ask, back to your normal and professional self.
“I believe it can help us to investigate further,” Leon replies. “but I fail to see how this doctor could be of any help in this case.”
“Maybe not on this one…” You murmur not even noticing the words that fell from your lips.
“What do you mean?” Leon notes your slight behavior change. Clearing your throat, you shake your head dismissing your previous words.
“Nothing.” For now, the missing civilians’ case doesn’t need to be exposed. You fear the government is behind it and the one you’re currently investigating. You don’t need Leon to follow each step you take, especially given his association with the nation’s leaders.
Taking one last sip of your drink, you raise your wrist and read the time. Going back to the chapel wouldn’t bring you more information. Not when everyone seemed more focused on their conversations rather than helping.
Searching through your wallet, you pull a 10 dollar bill and place it on the table, next to your empty cup of coffee.
“What is that?”
“For my coffee.” You respond, getting up from the chair and looking back at Leon. “I don’t like owing to people.”
“You don’t have to, you know?” Leon chuckles and shakes his head. “It’s on me.”
“Well…” You reply. “Then make sure to give it back to me one day.”
Ephesians 6:10-18
Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might. Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm. Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness
Leon’s hands are clean, metaphorically speaking. But his mind is not.
He wasn’t directly involved in the numerous deaths of politicians and CEOs. He just provided the right amount of information for them to kill each other. Playing God amongst them, in a way only he could recognize and embrace.
Death has rejected him but he brings that destiny upon those who sought to destroy the peace settled in the city and therefore nation. That’s the role he accepted once the curse of immortality ran deeply in his veins.
It all started with hints he would drop in the middle of conversations. Twisted words that would seed doubts among elitists. Alliances were broken easily, that he needn’t worry about. But some partnerships were harder to break, sly statements would get him anywhere.
So, direct accusations were made. Obviously, under a fake name or rather an anonymous identity which would prompt people to feel paranoid even in their own homes. It took less than a week for lesser pawns to be found dead or disappear under odd circumstances. Of course, those who own the city would leave no trace of their crimes—so even for him, a federal agent, it was impossible to reach them without his mission being discovered.
So, as soon as he was assigned to help you in this mysterious case, he was delighted. He’d play his pieces right and boom, he’d wriggle his way into the elite that control the city with their tainted and bloody hands and root out the evil.
However, he wouldn’t have thought that his “eternal suffering” disease would act the first moment he saw you.
Ever since he was transformed, the adaptation path was rough and difficult to deal with. Nonetheless, he made a promise to never act upon his instincts, no matter how unbearable they could get.
When he first saw Mr. Clark’s body, it wasn’t surprising. He knew he would choose the path of dying instead of facing his crimes and past. They’re all like that. Cowards, good for nothing, worthless, usel—
A sugary and pleasant aroma flooded his senses which immediately put him at ease amid the gruesome scenario lying underneath his frame.
It wasn’t coming from the dead bastard, that he knew. So what is it? The smell was getting even more prominent each second that passed. It made him dig his short fingernails into the palm of his hand, forming tiny half-moons on the thin skin.
His senses were never that heightened nor his body was that sensible to even the softest of draughts.
And his body worked on his own as soon as the doorknob tweaked, he turned around and acted as if his work was the only thing on his mind.
As if his eternal life wasn’t about to change forever. When forever only meant pain and sorrow, at least for Leon.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#resident evil x reader#resident evil
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Introducing... *drum roll*
The Greatest Showman AU! In which I now name as "What's Written in the Stars" (WWITS, for short)
Context at the bottom of each pic! (CW: Violence)
Also, will give more info on what I'm planning to do with this AU at the very bottom (after the cut) so read the full thing please :D
Assistive Care Attendant / Trapeze Act Sun: Each clothing design is for specific phases of the plot. The one with the apron is whilst Sun is still with his owner (him and Moon). The apron get-up is the male robots' default clothing after having been manufactured to become assistive robots for the rich— ofc with different colours that fit the scheme of the robot. The one on the left is showcasing his first time joining the circus, having almost stabbed in the faceplate seconds later by you, Y/N (unintentionally). And, the one on the top is him, a year into joining the circus.
Assistive Care Attendant / Trapeze Act Moon: Each clothing design is for specific phases of the plot. The one where he is tied up is when the Afton virus took hold of his programming having almost killed the father of the children that he and Sun are giving care to. The one on the right is where he's finally gotten the virus at a more stable control through your help and was finally allowed to perform overnight in the circus. And ofc, the one on the top is what he wears when performing.
Laundry Worker / Knife Throwing Act Y/N: I tried to make your design as androgynous as I could I hope I didn't butcher that. Anyhow, you carry a lot of trauma and painful experiences in this plot as an immigrant, orphan, and a very obvious person-of-color, you aren't always welcomed in where you live but you do have good people who took you in after your parents were brutally murdered as a child. You now work in your rescuers' laundry shop— well, not until you joined the circus.
My plans for this AU?
Currently the chapters are in the works, I'm writing Chapter 1 down as this gets posted. My goal is only a total of 5 (long, and will be divided into and released per parts) chapters for the entire plot.
I will also try (emphasis on try) to make a few storyboards I had in mind for this AU, y'know just to make things more interesting. More designs will be showcased sooner or later, as this AU is not only applicable to you and the Assistive Care Attendants (ACA) but also the other main bots of the canon plot of security breach.
Oh also! If you're not familiar with or haven't seen The Greatest Showman just yet, you don't have to see it to understand this AU. This AU can honestly be seen as a standalone AU where you live in the 1850s-1860s and technology started booming because of Fazbear Co (run by Henry Emily, William's co-founder in the canon series; William Afton will have a bit of a different role in the AU) and all that jazz. But unless you don't want spoilers for The Greatest Showman, don't learn more about this AU since it contains A LOT of references, plots, and designs similar to what's portrayed in the movie. Otherwise, have fun getting to know this when I release the first part of the first chapter and so on! :D
This might be one of the biggest things I'll ever make and I'm glad I got these ideas just as the new year is arriving. At least I know what my new year's resolution will be lmao. I hope you guys tune in for more! I have so much love and so much in store for this AU— so much!
Thanks for reading, love you <3
Ps. I rarely say this but reblogs > likes
I appreciate them both btw! I just think it's better for yalls to spread this around so some people who might enjoy this AU would get to see it evolve over time :)
#the greatest showman au#moondrop#sundrop#y/n x sundrop#y/n x moondrop#fnaf security breach au#wwits#laursdraws
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Clementine Kisses
Chapter Seven of the Through the Scope Series | Chapter Eight
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 5.8K
Chapter Overview: You wake up in a strange bedroom and investigate
TW: smut !! oral (f receiving), f in v, p in v, depictions of breasts but without their size
Notes: now i know this isnt a gif of frankie, but i am the law of the land and i want to use it. okay LMAO we finally made it to the smut hehe i mean i feel like yall knew this was coming tbh,, i havent written it in a while so i might be a bit rusty, but im still pleased with how it turned out. its just so much fun to write. as usual ... my asks are always open & happy reading <3 (oh and listen to lemon boy by cavetown bc it was on repeat while i wrote this chapter)
*no use of y/n & female presenting reader*
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Your head is spinning, but your body is so comfortable. When did your shitty mattress get this soft? Without even having to open your eyes you can tell that the sun is up. You must have forgotten to close the blinds when you got home last night. Wait a second…you don’t remember coming home. Still choosing to keep your eyes shut for fear of seeing a stranger next to you in bed, you hoist the covers up and over your head. Maybe if you just pretend you didn’t do anything stupid last night it will become a reality.
You inhale deeply, slightly wincing at the throbbing in your head, and your eyes pop open. It may be pitch black under the sheets, but you are starting to see things more clearly. You know this smell. It’s a smell that has haunted the deepest corners of your mind since you first encountered it. Since you first encountered him. It’s musky, but not in a dirty way. It fills your nose and soothes the anxiety you felt creeping its way into your belly. You breathe in deeply again. There were subtle hits of…tire rubber? Well he works in an auto body shop so that checks out.
You decide to hold your breath to see if you can hear anyone breathing softly beside you. A few seconds go by with the only sound being the steady beat of your heart. Hoping that you correctly assumed that you’re alone, you peel back the covers to reveal a foreign sun lit room. You look beside you and breathe a sigh of relief when you see that the right side of the bed has been left undisturbed. As much as you wanted to have sex with him, that was definitely something you wanted to remember. Using your elbows as support, you scoot your body into a sitting position and lean your back against his headboard. Looking at the nightstand beside the bed, you see three things: a glass full of water, two tylenol pills, and a small slip of paper. Without thinking twice you pop the painkillers in your mouth and chase them down with the now room temperature water. Nothing has ever tasted so refreshing. You trade the empty glass for the piece of paper. Aloud you read what it says.
You fell asleep in the truck. I’ll explain everything in the morning. On the couch if you need me. -Frankie
He had drawn a little smiley face next to his name. You laugh quietly to yourself as you set the note back down on the small table. Looking down you see your shoes neatly placed in front of it. There is a shirt you don’t recognize folded and carefully placed on top of them. You reach down and unfold it in your lap.
“Hmm.” You run your fingers over the faded design on the front of it. “Fleetwood Mac. You have good taste in music, Frankie.”
After giving the room one final once over to make sure no one is inside you shimmy out of yesterday's shirt and bra and dawn the one left out for you. Then you throw the rest of the covers back, climb out of bed, and take off your jeans. It wasn’t your fault he didn’t have any shorts for you. His shirt comes to rest a few inches above your knees as you start quietly tiptoeing around his room. You know snooping is wrong, but you just can’t help yourself. Your still socked feet guide you over to a thin, vertical bookshelf that sits directly in front of the side of the bed that you slept on. Dust has started to collect on the shelves and the books themselves. You run your fingers across the spines of them until you see one that peaks your interest.
“What do we have here, Frankie? A Helicopter flying handbook?”
You slide the heavy duty book from its seemingly perpetual resting place and crack it open. A lot of the pages are dog-eared and highlighted to high heaven. You close it and set it back where you found it. As you look closer you see that the majority of the books he has relate to helicopters, aviation, and the mechanics of flying aircrafts. A pang of sadness and realization shoots through you as you realize that you know so little about him. You know so little about what he did when he was on missions, fuck, you didn’t even know that he knew how to fly. But you want to. You want to know everything there is to know about him whether it be big or small or beautiful or ugly.
Moving over to his dresser, curiosity building, you see a group photo. You pick it up and you mentally name Frankie, Santi, Will, Benny, and who’s that? A gruff looking man smiles and has his arm around your coworker. He appears older than the other men he’s standing with. You’ve never met him or even heard the guys talk about him before. Right as your mind starts to pick apart who the fifth man in the photo could be, the sun reflects off something else on the dresser and catches your eye. You set the photo down and look for the culprit. When you find it, you feel your knees get weak. Sitting on top of a familiar looking post-it note there is a beer bottle cap. You gasp to yourself as you pick it up. This must have been the cap of the beer that he opened for you when you attended the fights with him. You thought you had seen him slip it into his pocket, but you figured that it was just because that was an easier alternative than leaving to throw it away. He saved it as a memento and kept it by your number. Two things that another man would consider trash, he kept and cherished.
The smell of coffee tickles your nose and you can hear faint clanging coming from the kitchen. You decide that you have been hiding and snooping long enough, so you set the cap down and make your way to the door. The room you were in appears to be on the left side of the hallway. You walk quietly down the hall and notice that the walls are barren. The noises get louder as you close the space between yourself and the kitchen. His house’s layout makes you walk through the living room, which has the front door, before you reach the kitchen. There’s no door when you approach so you’re able to see Frankie engrossed in his task. Well, his back to be more precise. He has on a tired looking t-shirt and some boxers. One side of his hair is sticking up in a way that causes you to stifle a laugh. For a man that slept on the couch last night, he seems to be quite chipper. His low humming only makes that fact more apparent. You get comfortable by leaning against the shared living room and kitchen wall, but it’s short lived. The man in front of you turns around and bursts both of y’alls bubbles of ignorant bliss.
“Oh!” He’s holding a mug in each hand. “Good morning! Or I guess it’s technically the afternoon now.”
“Good morning to you too.” You follow him when he beckons you to join him at the kitchen table. “So…do I want to know how I ended up here?”
Frankie watches as you sit down across from him at the table in his shirt. If he’s being honest it makes his cock twitch to see you like this. He is in awe at how beautiful you look after waking up. Sure, your hair is wilder and your mascara is smudged, but fuck if you aren’t a breath of fresh air. He finds himself getting irrationally jealous that his bed was the one that got to hold you while you slept. He wanted to wake up to that face in the morning. Every morning.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He slides a mug over to you and scratches the back of his head.
“If waking up in the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in and then being greeted by a cup of coffee is bad, then I don’t ever want to end up in a good looking situation again.”
His shoulders relax when you say this, as if he was anxiously waiting to see how you would react to the situation. “Well, Pope and I tried to drop you off at your apartment, but you didn’t have your house keys in your tote. So, this was the next best option.”
“Oh my God! I knew it seemed lighter than usual when I left the gym! Damn, Benny for rushing me last night.”
“Your bag is over on the entryway table if you want it. It’s got your phone.”
“No, I’m alright.” You say before sipping your drink. “I’m in good company.”
He looks at you bashfully before indulging in his own cup of coffee. You take the cozy silence as an opportunity to look around his kitchen. It’s oddly reminiscent of yours. No art, no decorations. Save for a small basket of fruit on his counter. The only room that has given you a glimpse into his mind has been his room.
“Did you,” He follows your eyes. “Did you want an orange? I can never get around to eating them in time and it would be a shame for them to go to waste.”
“How about we share one? I’ve never been very hungry when I first wake up, but I’ll make an exception.”
He stands just enough to give himself the extra length to reach the fruit. You take it from him when he offers it and start peeling. When you finish, you split it in half and offer one side to him.
“I told you that you enjoy taking care of people last night.” You eat one of your citrus slices.
He tries to look nonchalant as he mirrors your actions. “Maybe there is some sense to all that star stuff you like. Tal vez eres una estrella.”
“And what makes you think I’m a star?” Your stomach feels like it's made of knots.
“Well…you have this brightness about you.” You can see it in his eyes that he’s struggling with telling you what he's thinking. Not because he doesn’t want to say it, but because he doesn’t know how to. “I seem to see you most often after the sun has already gone down, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know that you’re there when the sun is still up. Sometimes, I get lucky enough to see you during the day.”
You breathe in a shaky breath as he presses forward in his explanation.
“I find myself getting sucked into your gravitational pull whenever I’m around you.”
Both of you have unconsciously started to lean towards each other.
“And you’re…”
“I’m what, Frankie?”
“You’re beautiful.”
“You think I’m beautiful?” It comes out shakier than you intend.
His eyes crinkle at the corners when he hears your reaction to his confession. “I’ve been in awe of you from the moment I met you and every moment after, mi estrella.”
“My star.” You repeat what he just called you in spanish. You have to do something to distract from the intense feeling of bawling that suddenly consumes you.
“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He stands up and cups your face in his hands.
“Say you mean it.” You say looking at him.
His deep pools of chestnut trace your face as he stares back at you. “I mean it, mi estrella. Every syllable.”
You stand, his hands still in place, and kiss him. You finally kiss him. There is no way that you could have waited any longer. His lips mold with yours hungrily. As he opens his mouth to you, you can taste coffee and sweet oranges. You can’t help but moan into him when he slides his hands down your body to cup your ass and pull you tight against him. His teeth catch your bottom lip and pull on it gently. He groans when your own hands snake their way up his chest and wrap around his neck. You intertwine your fingers in his thick curls, grateful that you now have unbridled access to them without his cap.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you.” His chest heaves against your body and you can feel him hardening against your bare leg.
You open your mouth for him again and tilt your head so you can deepen the kiss. His tongue explores your mouth and you eagerly let him. The sounds he’s making while he palms your ass are sinful. You feel yourself clench around nothing at the thought of the sounds he will make while he fucks you. He scoops you off the ground and your legs wrap around his waist as he sets you down on the table. The cool wood sends a shiver through your body that makes him smile against your lips.
“I don’t think I can make it to the bedroom.” He sounds like he's in pain.
“That makes two of us.” You gasp as he starts to work his way down your neck.
Desperate to quell the growing ache in between your legs you grind your core against him and feel him shutter.
“You want this just as badly as I do, huh?” His breath is hot against your skin.
“I want it so bad.” You bring his face back up to yours and sloppily kiss him. “It’s all I can think about.”
His hand answers your prayers when he starts to rub circles on you through your underwear. He swallows your wanton cries with his mouth. You feel him laugh against you and you already know the cause of it.
“You’re so wet for me and I’ve barely laid a finger on you, cariño. How is that?”
He slides your underwear to the side and easily slides in a finger. You have to lay your head on his shoulder as he curves it up inside you and hits that sweet spot.
“I would have-” Your breath is stolen for a moment when one finger hastily becomes two. “I would have let you do this to me at the bar. Would have let you make me come with your fingers while everyone sat around us.”
“Fuck.” He whines into your hair. “You’re so filthy. Not caring who’s around or who could see what I’m doing to this sweet pussy.” He removes his fingers from inside of you and you whimper at the loss. You watch, mystified, as he places them in his mouth and licks each one clean with greed. “Lay back for me. I need to taste the real thing.”
His eyes are glazed over with lust right now. The ache in between your legs is so painful and you are desperate for reprieve. You immediately do as he asks and lay your back down on the kitchen table. You take the liberty of lifting your shirt up and exposing your breasts to him. The way he is looking at you makes you feel like you’re the only woman in the world. His eyes wash over your body and you can’t help but squirm underneath his gaze. He leans down and takes one of them in his mouth while he forcefully cups the other. Your back arches when he catches your nipple between his teeth. Never one to neglect, he works his mouth to the other one before he trails his lips agonizingly slow down your body. He peppers kisses right above the start of your underwear and you can’t help but buck your hips up towards him.
“Patience is a virtue.” He chides looking up at you through hooded lids.
“Please, Frankie.” You plead with him. You hope he can see how badly you're hurting. “Please, touch me. I can’t wait anymore.”
He smiles to himself as he shifts his attention to what's right in front of him. His thumbs hook into the fabric and he slowly starts to pull them down.
Ding Dong! Ding Dong!
You both freeze and hold your breath to see if the sound was imagined. When its unholy ringing comes again, he rests his forehead on your stomach.
“I’m going to kill them. I’m legitimately going to fucking kill them.” His beard tickles your skin as he speaks.
“Who-who is it?” You’re trying to catch your breath.
“The guys.” He doesn’t move his head from where he laid it to rest. “They are here to watch the basketball game.”
“Open up, Fish!” Benny yells as he raps on the door. “I know you’re in there, you bastard! Your truck is in the driveway!”
Frankie all but growls as he pulls your underwear back up and helps you sit up straight. If you didn’t know any better you’d think that Benny’s a dead man. You reluctantly hop off the table as Frankie tells them he will be there in a minute.
“Why don’t I answer it?” You gesture down to his now very strained shorts. “You can change while I handle them.”
“Oh fuck me.” He rolls his head back.
“That’s what I was trying to do! Now go, go!”
You push him towards his room and start to head for the door. Two steps in and you feel a strong hand grab your arm and pull your body back. He captures you in a desperate kiss before he releases you.
“This isn’t finished.”
“Patience is a virtue, Frankie.” You wink.
He sends you to the door with a spank and heads into his room. You scurry to let everyone in as another round of banging starts.
“Hey guys! Long time no see.”
They don’t look the least bit shocked to see you greeting them at the door. Pope must have filled them in about the events of last night on the way over. They all greet you with a tender kiss on the cheek and lug their various bags inside the house. You tell them that Frankie is just finishing changing and that he’ll be out shortly.
“How’d you sleep last night, hermosa?” Pope sets four cases of beer on the kitchen table. The very sight of it causes heat to rise in your belly again.
“Oh umm good? I slept good!”
“Yeah I guess that would explain why your hair looks like it was caught up in a tornado and you have a crazed look in your eye.” Benny snickers.
“Consequences of last night's actions at the bar.” You shrug leaning back on the sofa.
“There he is!” Will walks up to Frankie as he enters the room and pulls him in for a hug.
When they break apart his eyes immediately fall on you which causes the rest of the men to follow suit. Suddenly, you’re very aware of how little clothing you have on.
“Why don’t I put on some pants?” Your cheeks are burning under all the attention and with the knowledge of what almost happened.
“You don’t have too.” Benny offers casually as he lays takeout boxes down on the table. “It’s good practice for when you’re in the ring.”
“Now I’m definitely going to put on pants.”
You hush the guys as they hoop and holler at you while you head to Frankie’s room in search of yesterday's jeans. If you didn’t know they meant it with love, those would have been the last sounds they uttered.
“She looks mighty relaxed here, Catfish.” Frankie is shocked that Will is the first one to address the elephant in the room. Usually he stays out of silly things like this, but you must be an exception. “Well, except for when Benny decided to poke the hornet's nest with that comment about her hair.”
“Her hair? What about it?” He looks behind him where you disappeared. “And keep your voices down.”
“Be serious, man.” Pope cracks open a beer. “She looked so frustrated when we walked in. Like she’s a string that’s wound too tight and is this close to snapping.” He emphasizes his point by snapping his own fingers.
“I didn’t think she looked upset.” Benny sounds so confused.
“Not frustrated as in upset, you fuckin’ dolt.” Will looks at his brother with genuine annoyance.
Much to Frankie’s horror he watches in silence as understanding washes over Benny’s face when all the pieces click together in his head.
“Catfish, I’ve never known you to be a man that leaves a woman unsatisfied.” Benny remarks.
“Well that wouldn’t have happened if y’all had come just a little fucking later.”
“That’s probably my fault.” Pope looks at him sheepishly. “I was anxious to see what unfolded after you dropped me off.”
Frankie can’t help but chuckle at his friend's excitement. “Nothing ‘unfolded’ after I took you home, hand to God. She was dead to the world when I brought her inside and tucked her in. She didn’t even wake up until 30 minutes before y’all arrived.”
“Now swear something wasn’t happening while she was awake.” Pope smiles knowing damn well he has Frankie cornered.
“I uhh-”
“Okay I’m presentable looking now.” You walk into the room and immediately notice Will, Santi, and Benny fighting back laughter while Frankie flounders in front of them. “What the fuck have y’all done now?”
“Just some good ol’ fashion teasin’, hon.” Will waves you over. “You’re going to stay and watch the game with us, right?”
“Oh, I don’t want to intrude.” You start.
“You’re not!” Frankie is quick to say.
“Yeah! We want you to hang with us!” Benny voices enthusiastically.
“All these beers aren’t going to drink themselves.” Pope waves his hand dramatically over the booze. “Plus, your car is still at the gym. It looks like you’re stuck with us.”
“You got me there. I guess it’s only fair that I listen to y’all talk about basketball since y’all listened to me talk about the stars.”
“Atta girl!” Will pulls you into a side hug while the rest of the boys cheer, Frankie included.
***
You watch happily on the couch as the men around you take turns yelling at the television and then at each other. Thankfully, you knew how basketball worked so you were more than capable of keeping up with what was going on. You and Frankie sit right next to each other on the couch the entire time. Throughout the game they would all jump up and cheer when their team made a basket, but the second you sat with your legs crossed and had your knee touching Frankie, he happily realized he could better encourage the players from a sitting position. After the game ends and all the food is eaten, you get questioned about how you usually spend your Sundays off.
“It used to be similar to this. When I was living with Robbie back home,” You laugh when you notice the raised eyebrows from Will, Frankie, Pope.
“Robbie is a girl. Calm down y’all.” Benny explains.
“Anyway, when I was living with Robbie back home, we would pile into one of our beds with wine and snacks to watch shitty reality TV. We definitely had our fair share of times yelling choice words at the screen and contestants.”
You’re met with immediate disbelief that reality TV could invoke those kinds of emotions. Instead of verbally pleading your case, you take the remove from Frankie and use it to open up Hulu. You find your favorite show and your favorite season and hit play.
“After a single episode y’all will be eating your words.”
When it ends Will is too angry to speak, Frankie is asking you ‘why that dude with the buzzed hair choose the girl in the yellow bikini over the girl in the pink bikini?”, Benny is fully convinced he would dominate at the show, and Pope is begging to watch the next episode. Completely surprised they all loved it, you play the next episode and snuggle deeper into the cushions. You rest your arm on the back of the couch and play with the ends of Frankie’s curls. Electricity shoots through you each time you feel his body tremble under your soft touch. You all only realize how late it's gotten by the time the season is halfway over.
“Shit, I gotta be up early tomorrow to talk to some vets at the VA.” Will says as he stands.
Pope and Benny follow his lead and stretch as they do it. You pat on Frankie’s leg and get up as well. Picking up the trash that has collected on the coffee table, you take it to the kitchen to dispose of it. It doesn’t take Will long to expertly gather up both his things and the men he brought with him. You and Frankie walk them out and send them off with sweet goodbyes and promises of doing this again soon.
“See you at work tomorrow!” Benny calls back to you from the driveway.
As soon as you close the door, you can feel the energy shift in the room.
“I thought they would never leave.” His voice is gravelly.
When you look up at Frankie, he’s already staring down at you with the same look he had in his eyes earlier this afternoon.
“I could barely hold it together with you teasing me like that. Did you enjoy it? Feeling me suffer under your fingers?”
He’s already got his hands on your hips and is pulling you flush against his body. You let out a low whimper as his mouth finds its home on yours. Your smile against him is answer enough to his question and he nips at your bottom lip in response.
“Now it’s my turn to make you suffer. To drag it out until you’re begging me to stop.”
He lifts you off the ground and you find yourself in an all too familiar position with your legs around his waist. You can feel him start to walk somewhere, but you can’t be bothered to look as you suck sweet red marks under his jaw line. Hearing him moan loudly only adds fuel to your fire that was never properly put out earlier. Each time he takes a step, the buckle of his belt rubs against your throbbing clit. You wriggle your body against his as best you can to generate as much friction as possible. When the light behind your eyelids fades, you know exactly where he has taken you. You feel him come to a stop and detach your lips from his neck and admire your work. Those rosy marks will definitely be there in the morning.
“Hi.” You whisper as you turn your attention to his face.
“Hi.” He says in the same hushed tone. “I’m going to give you an out. I should have done this this afternoon, but I-I got so caught up in you that I couldn’t think properly. If you don’t want to do this, tell me right now and we can pretend like it never happened. No hard feelings. I just don’t want you to do something you regret tomorrow.”
“Frankie,” You reach up for his hat and throw it to the floor so you can run your hands through his hair. His eyes flutter as you touch him ever so tenderly. “I don’t want an out. I want you.”
His eyes water ever so slightly at your words. Like it was the first time he had ever been truly craved by another person in his life. It makes your heart crack at the thought. You lean in and capture his lips. They are so pliant against yours. It feels like they were made for you and you alone.
“Do you want me?”
“More than anything.”
“Then show me.”
He tosses you down on the bed and the plush comforter cradles your body. In an instant each of you are ripping off shirts and haphazardly unbuttoning pants. You look up at him, only in your underwear, and take all of him in. His strong arms, broad shoulders, a stomach that you can’t wait to feel rub against you. The lower your eyes go on his body, the harder he gets under his boxers. You squeal when he wraps his hands around your ankles and pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. He never breaks eye contact as he kneels down in front of you. He starts slowly at first, kissing you through the fabric barrier. Adorning your thighs with his tongue and soft nips from his teeth. Your quiet moans fill his ears as he finally removes your last stitch of clothing. He chokes at the sight of your weeping cunt before him. You spread your legs wider, beckoning him to take a taste.
Your cries bounce off the bedroom walls as he buries his face in between your thighs. His tongue works in ways that you never thought possible. You ball up the sheets beside you in your fists as he laps at you relentlessly. Breath stolen with each wicked sound that pours out of his throat. His hand removes itself from your thigh and climbs its way up your writhing body. In an effort to remain tethered to the earth you grab on tighter to him than you thought possible.
“Fuck, Frankie,” You’re drunk off of him. “You feel so good.”
“And you taste even better.”
He takes your clit in his mouth and your back arches as two thick fingers glide inside you. If this is his idea of suffering, you wouldn’t mind spending eternity in hell. Your legs start to tremble, but he is unwavering. Drinking you up like you were the first sip of water he has had in years.
“Come for me, mi estrella.”
He holds your hand through your climax. The two of you moaning in unison as you drench him. He doesn’t detach his mouth from you until your body has ceased its shaking. Only when you're struggling to catch your breath, splayed out on the bed, does he retrace his path back up your body with his lips. His beard is glistening with your slick as he lowers himself to kiss you. The taste of you is prominent on his tongue when he slips it into your mouth. You wrap your arms around him and pull the rest of his weight on top of you. You can hear him growl in your ear when you start to move your hips underneath him.
“Take them off.” You mewl. “I want to feel you. All of you.”
He pushes off the bed frantically and sheds the last of his clothing. God, he was much bigger than you originally thought. You move your body upwards on the bed so you can lay on a pillow. You watch, mouth watering, as he starts to crawl his way back towards you. He licks his palm and uses it to stoke himself. The profane performance in front of you causes your mind to go blank. He lowers himself in between your legs again and you can feel his tip at your entrance. You can only mutter incomprehensible words as he sinks himself deep inside you. You wrap your arms back around him to keep yourself steady as you feel your walls stretch around his length.
“You’re so fucking tight around me, cariño.” His face is inches from yours. “I’ve got to move, okay?”
You answer him by bringing your lips up to kiss him. Your whimpers are muffled by his mouth as he sets his pace. Each stroke is more detrimental than the previous one. Your nails bitting into his back only serves to motivate him as he continues.
“You’re so big. I can feel you everywhere. Frankie.”
He sits up just enough to allow himself room to rub your clit. His face fluctuates between concentration and bliss.
“Are you going to come for me again? Come for me all over my cock?” His fingers rub tight circles and you can feel yourself quickly approaching.
You nod in response to him.
“I can’t hear you. Use your words.” He demands.
“Yes,” you pant. “I’m going to come for you. Only for you.”
Frankie is trying to keep himself from finishing before you do. He wants to make sure you at least finish twice before he even considers it. He brings the hand he was using on you up to his mouth and spits on it before connecting it to you again. The sounds that are coming from you are making it increasingly difficult to stay focused on his task. He looks down at you while he continues to pound into you and work at your clit. Your body gleams with sweat, your chest is heaving, your lips are swollen from him kissing them, and your eyes…your eyes are on him. He falters for a split second under your gaze. No other woman has ever made him nervous in bed the way you have. Never has he worried that he was doing too little or too much. But with you, he wanted everything to be perfect.
Frankie adjusts your hips so he can hit that sweet spot. He knows he found it when your eyes go wide and your jaw goes slack. He doesn’t change a thing about what he is doing.
“I’m gonna come,” You sob.
You clench down tightly around him as you’re thrust into your second orgasm of the night. It only takes three or four more pumps until he too is consumed by his own pleasure. You feel him spurt hot ropes inside you and sink deeper into the bed. When he’s done, you feel a slight sting as he pulls out. He crawls beside you in the bed and ghosts his lips over yours.
“I’m going to get a towel to clean you up, alright? Are you going to be good here by yourself for a sec?”
“I don’t think I could move even if I wanted to.”
He smiles down at you and kisses you quickly before disappearing into the bathroom. You rest your eyes while the faucet runs faintly in the background. He’s quiet when pads into the bedroom, but you feel the bed creak beside you under his weight. The towel is damp and warm against you. You sigh contentedly as he takes his time in cleaning you up as if he is sad to see the evidence of him being washed clean from your skin. When he finishes, he sets the towel down on a nightstand and pulls the covers over both of you. His arms pull your tired body against his and envelop you in his warmth.
“That was worth the wait.” You laugh.
“I would definitely say so, but hopefully we won’t have to wait so long for the next time.”
“No, I don’t think we will.”
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
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#francisco morales#frankie morales#catfish#frankie morales fanfiction#frankie morales x you#frankie morales x reader#triple frontier#triple frontier fic#benny miller#will miller#ironhead#santiago garcia#pope#through the scope#read on a03
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As If Destiny (part nine) 🌹
Part Eight 🌹
A/N: This is shorter than my last few chapters sorry!! I have gotten used to a post schedule and I hope this is good enough yall please don't send snakes after me. I love you guys and hope you like this it's 5 am help. ALSO! PLAYLIST HAS BEEN CREATED! Link here and on masterlist. Ofc you don't have to listen, just for funsies :)
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Your senses were awake before your mind was. You could hear the beeping of some sort of machine. Your nerves were on fire and alive. The taste of copper blood was very present on your tongue. Your entire upper body felt sore and stiff. Stiffness that also seemed to wax your eyes shut. They were shut as if with staples, which made your heart drop to your stomach in fear. The possibility made you attempt to open them with even more force, though the attempt was futile.
But the sound of aggressive words, bordering on rage-filled yells, made your eyes shoot open. A part of it was the intensity of the sound, but more so were the voices. You couldn't make out the words, but the tone was more than enough.
As you looked around, you realized you were in a dim hospital room. The lighting was warm, as was the bed you occupied. There were no other patients, but multiple seats surrounded your bed. The TV in front of your bed was turned off, and no nurses were around, but you could see a few in the hallway through a long horizontal window. The same window that gave the loud voices faces. Two faces you knew very well: Sejanus and your father.
Your brain still felt like mush, but even if it was at its normal functional levels, you doubted you could have made sense of the situation. First of all, you haven't seen your father in weeks. Well, technically, you did yesterday, the day of the Reaping, even if only for a few moments. Was it only yesterday? How long have you been knocked out? You tried squirming around to find some sort of clock or a window to see the time of day.
Your efforts were of no avail, although your movements knocked off a tray that you didn't notice laid at the end of the hospital bed. A tray that had glass on it because, of course it did. The sudden commotion alerted not only the still shouting men but a number of nurses who rushed through the door. The shattering sound pierced your ears and kept on ringing as an onslaught of voices attacked your eardrums. You couldn't keep track of the flurry of movement. Nurses were cleaning up the mess, others checking your vitals and doing tests. One forced some water down your scratchy and dry throat, much to your relief.
Sejanus stood by the door, watching and waiting to finally approach you. He was soon joined by your father, who was forced away as he kept on interrupting the nurse's tasks. A few minutes and a bunch of vital checks later, the group left, and your father practically ran to your bedside. Question after question was asked with no break for you to actually answer.
"What do you need? More water? Food? Please, what do you need?"
His voice was on the verge of breaking. You examined your father for a moment. How much of his worry was genuine for your well-being? Was he just seeing his late wife in your place?
You opened your mouth, but no words came out. Your throat was too dry, but you kept on trying and trying. One glass of water later and only a fraction of your vocal power came back. Something came out, though it was so mumbled and scratchy; your father urged you to repeat it. But Sejanus knew what you were asking for.
Who you were asking for.
"Ccc..Cor-Coryo?"
Your father physically flinched at your first thought. You just suffered a physical attack, and all you care is about pathetic Snow? You shut your eyes after you spoke, the pain in your throat being too much to bear. Though, they snapped open at the sound of a chair scraping the floor and falling back at the force used.
You watched as your father paced back and forth, clearly trying to hold back some anger. Sejanus made eye contact with you, and the compassion on his face gave you some comfort. He mouthed the word "later" to calm any of your questions.
"No."
Any sort of calm given by your friend was scrapped by your father's declaration. The tilt of your head was enough of a translation of your confusion for an elaboration.
"No more 'Coryo'. "
He practically gagged at the nickname, which made you cringe in return. Your father was never a violent or aggressive man and this side of him was not one you wanted to get used to.
"Nothing good ever comes from dealing with Snows. You think he is so pure? If he is anything like his father, his pure white image will be covered in blood."
You wanted to scream but didn't have the physical capability. Thankfully, Sejanus didn't leave the widower's statement unchallenged.
"He isn't like his father. What is so wrong with all you adults? You force children into the footsteps of their parents! Maybe instead of blaming the sins of his father, realize what Coriolanus did for your daughter!"
You wondered how much Sejanus had to deal with when you were unconscious. His appearance was messy and tired. Did he ever leave the hospital since he came? Your question on how long you've been here has still been unanswered.
After Sejanus's argument, your father looked to you. Rage and offense were clear in his orbs. His stare was enough to make a man of good standing cower. But you no longer cared for his opinion, insensible fears, and blind hatred.
"Why are you even here?"
You managed to rasp out and gather enough energy to sit up, never breaking eye contact. The intensity of his emotions didn't waver, but annoyance was added to the list.
"You are my daughter and got hurt by those savages. Where else would I be? What kind of father would I be if I was anywhere else?"
His answer made the two teenagers in the room scoff and roll their eyes. Sejanus for his description of the districts and you for his hypocrisy.
"You wouldn't be a father. Or at least not worthy of the title. Which you aren't, dear dad."
The step the older man took might as well have shaken the floor with the amount of fury radiating off of him. It was enough to make Sejanus panic and rush to your bedside but was halted by the motion of your hand. Whatever was to be done or said, you were willing to take it. It would only give your argument even more credibility.
"What did you say to me, girl?"
What happened to you, Dad? Where did your love-filled gazes go? Your thoughts only heightened your emotions, and you couldn't hold back, even with your breaking voice.
"I said you aren't worthy of being called my father. A father is there for their child even when the mother isn't there! You lost the love of your life, you think I don't know that? Instead of grieving and rebuilding together, YOU LEFT! Did I only mean something when mom was there?! Did you only tolerate me because I was a copy of your wife? Is the image too painful for you now? Would you have treated Otto like this? You loved him, why don't you love me the same?"
Your eyes flooded with tears as your face reddened. You weren't thinking as you shouted, but if you did, you would have thought that the tears would give your father pause. But it seemed any sympathy or piece of the parent you loved so much was gone. Dead. The man in front of you was as cold as the metal rings on your neck. Rings harshly pulled to force your eyes to look at him.
The pain was burning you, and it felt as if you were being stabbed by a thousand miniature knives all over.
"Listen to me now, dear. You think these rings give you any strength? Want to know why I loved your brother so much? He stepped up. He faced whatever came to him, no matter how bad. But you? You are a coward. You left far before I did. Your own mother was dying, and you never gave her the time of day! Were you so ashamed of her? The love of my life only asked for you, and you couldn't even look in her eyes! She gave you her eyes! She gave you life and love, none of which you seem grateful for. Only looking for it in people who are incapable of it. You ever speak either of their names in vain, I promise you, girl, I will—"
"You finish that threat, and I will finish one of my own."
In your struggle to get your father's hands off of the necklace, you didn't hear anyone enter. But you didn't need to look up to recognize the voice. Even though it was laced with more malice than you could have ever thought possible for an eighteen-year-old, the voice of Coriolanus Snow was always recognizable to you.
His fair-skinned hand covered the wrist of your father, whose grip began slipping on your necklace. You couldn't see much from your angle, but it looked like Coryo's thumb was firmly pressed into a specific spot between the other man's wrist. It only took a few more seconds of sharp pain for the harsh grip pulling you forward to be released.
Due to the force the grip held, when it was released, your head flew backward. But Sejanus, who moved to the other side of you without your notice, was quick to catch your head before any impact. You thanked him with a grateful smile, which he returned. You both turned back to the scene before you.
Coryo was standing above your father, the only other man who might despise him as much as Dean Highbottom. He looked disheveled and exhausted, but the air of authority surrounding him made his appearance look respectable. His lip was curled in disgust, and his hand kept on tightening and releasing. As the seconds passed, it felt as if time slowed just to agonize you. The possibility of the young heir of Snow beating up Tyre Vaun was becoming more likely. But he wouldn't do that. No, he wouldn't. He wouldn't, right?
“I don’t think your presence is welcomed here anymore.”
Coryo’s voice was tight and sharp; he really couldn’t stand another moment with a man who threatened his only daughter. In response, the unwelcomed man laughed mockingly. He got up from his spot by your bed and looked around at the three teens in front of his eyes. A dark-haired boy, whose stretched-out curls represented his patience at this point; a girl with a bandaged neck and sullen eyes that reflected her heart at what has become of her family. And of course, the ever-tall and proud blonde who, unlike his companions, is not in the mood for calm action in the slightest. Coriolanus made a vow, and no matter how far he may have to stretch his morals, he will not break that vow.
"Well, look at this. You think you are all so grown up? You are just pampered children. When you watch the games, watch carefully. That's the real world. And well, y/n, you are old enough for the real world now, aren’t you? You want to be a Snow so bad. Knock yourself out. But when you come crying back, don't expect sympathy."
"If you come back. The Snows are known to be quite possessive and strangling.”
And with that chilling statement, he walked straight out the door, shaking his head like a madman. Your eyes were glued to the door frame even as the vision blurred with your tears. You didn't know what to think. It felt as if you were being torn from the inside out, and all you could do is accept the drops streaming down your cheek. All track of time was lost, even more so than before, as your world crumbled.
However, the hospital bed eventually dipped as you were pulled into a pair of arms. Considering the direction in which the arms came, you knew it was Coryo. Well, that and, of course, the smell.
Roses overtook your senses as you calmed down and snuggled into the embrace. Your eyes closed, and your breathing softened while Coryo’s fingers brushed through your locks. As his fingers drifted through your hair, you began drifting off into some much-needed sleep.
Sejanus left soon after Coryo began comforting you, promising to return with some food for the group. The sight upon returning gave him pause in the door frame.
You were curled up in the blonde’s arms while his head laid upon yours, nose stuffed within your hair. It seemed the smell of vanilla calmed him as much, if not more, than the smell of roses did you. The mutual friend worried he was interrupting a sweet moment, no matter how lost he was on it.
Eventually, the weight of the trays within his hands reminded him of his original task. He cleared his throat quietly as he reentered the hospital room. That notified Coriolanus of the other boy’s presence, but he made no move to change his own. No matter how naive Sejanus might be and outspoken, Coriolanus could trust him. If there was one thing about Sejanus Plinth, it was that he was loyal. To Coriolanus Snow and most certainly you.
Sejanus offered a tray of a delicious-smelling soup and rice with a side of bread and dessert to Coryo. He kept one for himself and put the remaining tray on the table next to your bed. Coriolanus rearranged the position you and him were in so he could eat the dinner he desperately needed. He removed the arm that was around your waist which smotherd you impossibly closer to him.
Instead, the boy moved your head to rest on his shoulder. Once ensuring you were comfortably in slumber still, he began digging in. The first few minutes were filled with a comfortable silence between the two boys. Sejanus wasn't sure how much of the situation Coriolanus knows or saw and wasn't even sure where to start. There may even have been parts Sejanus himself didn't see.
When he arrived at the hospital, he wasn’t even allowed to see you as you were in surgery. The woman with hazel eyes and pretty freckles at the front desk informed the distraught boy that it would be a couple of hours before he could even see you. So he decided to go home for the time being and seek comfort in his ma.
But as he began walking out, a very furious Coriolanus Snow shoved past him. Sejanus wished to call out to his friend but it was quite clear, to Sejanus and all those who moved out of the blonde’s way, that he was not to be trifled with at the moment. Considering all the nasty statements your father spit out about Coriolanus and his family, Sejanus very quickly connected the pieces.
Mr. Vaun must have clearly kicked Snow out, not even giving him a chance to see you.
“What a piece of work. No wonder why him and my father get along so well.”
The sudden break in silence made Coryo laugh as he broke apart the bread. Sejanus, along with you, have spoken in detail of Starbo Plinth’s harsh and emotionless character. He liked you well enough, but you assumed it was because you were “Capital enough”.
“He wasn’t always like that. You know, I used to even wish for him to be my dad. He used to always make sure I was comfortable and laughing. Losing your wife is never easy, but he purposely cut off his daughter.”
“And he calls her a coward.”
The scoff was evident in the young star mentor. You confessed to him all your regrets on one of the many nights you spent at the Snow’s. He knew how much it plagued your mind and to hear it used against you broke any further restraint he had.
“Just kept on blabbering how the districts are filled with barbaric animals. Even though y/n wouldn’t even be here if Arachane had a shred of humanity.”
The statement was uttered through clenched teeth. The girl from ten would still have had a chance to live, no matter how brutal and inhumane that chance was, if she wasn't provoked by her own mentor. The thought of all the chaos Archane caused Sejanus’s blood boil.
“Did anyone else come to visit?”
Coriolanus’s voice broke the musing teen out of his thoughts. Coryo had already finished his food, and Sejanus offered his plate, no longer having an appetite. He didn’t know about his friend's financial situation although he saw the signs in his constant hunger and creatively sewn clothes. He never questioned or brought it up, just helping whenever he could. Coriolanus gratefully took the ever-needed food with a nod.
“Festus, Clemmensia, Lyssie, Felix, and Archane. Seems she has a heart somewhere. At least for her own ‘kind.’ Y/n was still knocked out, and they said they would come back. Probably will soon enough.”
Coryo nodded along and looked at the clock on the far wall outside the room, visible due to his angle through the window. 6:56 p.m.
It was still early enough for them to come, and the thought upset him slightly. He wishes to have more time with you. Alone (Sejanus doesn’t count).
Silence overtook the room once more as the two conversing teens settled back into their thoughts. Only the slight noise of your sheets rustling was heard as you moved to find a more comfortable position. Now that he was done with the second tray and the foreign feeling of being full overtaking his stomach, Coriolanus was able to shift.
He turned on his side and pulled you into his chest while wrapping his arms around you. Snuggling to your liking, you ceased to move. However, the quiet was interrupted again by soft laughter. Looking up from staring down at your sleeping form, blue eyes met crinkled brown ones in curiosity,
“So this is how I find out. I started putting the pieces together but was hoping one of you would fess up. Would have be a nice courtesy, you know.”
Sejanus finished off with a smile. When he first started noticing the small smiles that appeared on either of your lips when the other was brought up, he was confused more than anything. Then he felt weird. He would officially become the third wheel, for starters.
But eventually, his heart grew giddy for his two friends. Sejanus wanted you to be happy, and if you asked him, there was no other man in the capital as good as Coriolanus. Sure, he knew he had issues, but compared to the rest of their peers, he was a far better choice.
Said better choice was currently on fire and as red as humanly possible. This was clearly an odd position for him to be in if he saw you as “just a friend”; he knew that. But he didn't know there were signs prior. It made him feel vulnerable that his emotions were so easily deciphered, no matter if it was just Sejanus. It better have just been Sejanus.
“Is it that obvious?”
“Coryo, you are literally snuggling and smelling her hair.”
The prior thought of him being as red as humanly possible? A new record of blushing has occurred. Sejanus, however, was quick to comfort his called-out friend.
“She isn’t much better. She literally parades your ring around. And don't even try to play it off, we both know why she wears it.”
The smug smile on Coryo’s lips would be quite hard to wipe off as he looked back down to your sleeping form. And there it sat, a thousand glistening snowflakes dangling from your neck.
“She is asleep, right? I do not want to suddenly be sucker-punched.”
A deep chuckle came out of the young blue-eyed teen. There were so many nights of you coming over, especially in the early days; you often fell asleep while Coriolanus was finishing up some work. Coryo was eventually able to tell the signs when you were in deep sleep or just faking it to surprise him.
“She is out like a light. Her nose is fluttering. She only does that when she is in deep sleep.”
The words just came out while young Snow was distracted by your soft appearance in the dim lights. You looked so peaceful, as if you weren't in the hospital due to a bloody attack that could have killed you if only the bottle hit you a few meters to the left. When Coriolanus finally realized Sejanus never responded, he looked back up at a face-wide smirk.
“So you know how she sleeps, huh?”
The stuttering response made Sejanus laugh and grin while he walked over to grab the empty trays to throw out. On his way, he made sure to give his friend a pat on the back which only caused further discourse as Coryo tried to deny any of what Sejanus was trying to imply. His trek to the trash can, which was just by the door, wasn't far but gave him enough range to hear the hazel-eyed lady at the front desk.
“She is right down the hall, second door on the left. Just a warning, visiting hours are almost done, so hurry up.”
The hiccuped “thank you” by Clemensia was more than enough to make Sejanus jump to action. In haste, Sejanus informed the still snuggled boy of the upcoming visitors. Coriolanus jumped out of the bed in the blink of an eye and made sure his facade was in place when his peers came through the door.
“Oh, Coryo!”
Clemmie’s cracked voice flowed through the room as she gave him a teary-eyed hug. He gave her an awkward pat on the back. Festus was quick to peel the dark-haired girl off once seeing the uncomfortable look in Coriolanus’s eyes.
Festus led Clemensia to a nearby chair and sat beside her. But Arachane, held back by the door. It seems Felix and Lyssie were unable to visit. A suspicion confirmed by Clemmie as she was in a dazed state looking towards you. Sejanus didn’t wish to be in any room in which the three newcomers were in, but he knew they were your friends.
And they did care about you, one of the very small list of people. He and Coriolanus took turns in responding to the barrage of questions from Festus and Clemensia. Though Arachne never perked up, staying as still as stone. She drowned out the noise as she stared at your injured figure.
If the situation wasn't so morbid, she would have laughed. The ever-mighty girl who has always been little miss perfect got so injured by district scum. But it was little miss perfect who saved my life, Arachne had to defeat.
She wanted to poke fun at the situation. Mock Clemensia's tears. It was how she dealt with situations. Arachne became bitter and poisonous. But it was that same poison she spat at you moments before you nearly lost your life. She said words to hurt you because she wanted you to suffer, and you suffered. But not by her words, but because you jumped in to save her.
The red-haired girl hated it.
Maybe you should have just let her get hit.
With all the sudden voices, you began to stir. Your eyes opened far easier this time, much to your relief. It took a few blinks to take in the situation. Your first instinct was to feel around for Coryo, but you were quickly assured when you met his blue eyes. The small smile was muscle memory to the sight at this point.
You scanned the room and noticed the new visitors. You tried to respond to as many of Clemensia's questions and settle her panic, but it seemed the hysteria was going to stay for the rest of the night.
Although, as you were consoling the raven-haired beauty, you noticed Arachne’s stoic figure. Her eyes were hard and calculating, scanning over you repeatedly. You sighed heavily as you requested the rest of the group to leave you and Arachne for a few moments. They all seemed reluctant, especially Sejanus who heavily despised the girl. She was the reason you were here after all, or at least in Sejanus’s point of view.
The red head stood by the door even as all her peers glanced her way as they filed into the hallway. The position stayed for a few more seconds. Unwavering mask and crossed arms. You didn't waver under her gaze as you gestured to an empty seat by your hospital bed. With a sigh, she took heavy steps to your bedside.
Upon reaching the chair and settling, her prior scrutinizing glances were focused anywhere but you. As the time and silence went on, her tough demeanor began to crack. The silent sole tear streaming down her face stunned you. Of course, Arachne was human and had feelings, but her constant tough character makes one believe she is incapable of tears. As if it's scientifically impossible that the Arachne Crane sat here so timidly and was crying.
“I hate you. I hate you so much.”
Her declaration of hatred wasn't met with any similar response. No, in fact, you responded with giddy laughter. The vulnerable girl in front of you freaked you out slightly, so it was nice to know Arachne was still, well, her.
“How can you just laugh?!”
“What am I supposed to do exactly? Get upset?”
Your eyes were still sore, but that didn't stop your eyes from rolling. You stared back at the girl as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She seemed to heavily disagree as she huffed and threw her arms in the air.
“YES! That's exactly what you should be doing! Get mad at me, tell me you hate me too! That I deserve to be in that hospital bed not you. That I deserved each and every cut because I’m just a monster, right?! I don't have tragedy after tragedy to hide behind like you do!”
Your eyes crinkled in confusion and lips curled in slight anger. Arachne’s tears had heavily accelerated at this point, streams of black painting her pink cheeks. She had stood up and began pacing back and forth, waiting for your response impatiently. Your head was pounding at this point with the amount of emotions you've had to deal with in such a short time. You should have just shut down the conversation before it turned into a full argument, but how could you?
“Hide behind tragedy? Do you think I want to do that? You really think I sit every night and thank my lucky stars that I have ‘excuses’ for my actions?! Grow up Arachne! Tragedy or not, we have to deal with the weight of our actions. Just because your neck isn't bleeding doesn't mean you don't have your scars. Watching me suffer is a greater punishment than if our spots were reversed.”
She stopped in front of your bed, looking more like a lost little girl than the cold calculating young woman you were accustomed to. She wanted you to get mad and have a reaction but she didn't expect this. Because you were right.
If Arachne got hit like you did, she would only have more fuel for hate for the districts. There wouldn't have been any lesson learned, and every fiber of her being would be used to make the districts suffer even more. Yet, you were the one who got hit. Not because you did anything but because Arachne did.
It felt like Arachne stabbed you herself. She didn't like many people and well you were one of the few exceptions, she also disliked you more than the others. When you got sent away in the ambulance, a small part of her hoped you would finally see the barbarity outside the Capital. That you would grow bitter and hateful like she had become.
Arachne Crane has long known of her jealousy of you, though she would never admit it. She hated that after everything you suffered, you still smiled. You were weak, tired, and covered up in gauze in a stale hospital room, but you still looked as if the sun shone only for you.
The universe had favorites, and you seemed to be the apple of its eye while Arachne could only watch while being devoured by the darkness. The stars still shined for you while she suffocated by the black matter.
“I am sorry though. About the Plinth Prize.”
Your voice was soft as you watched your friend shatter in her thoughts. Arachne may have done this to herself, but it still moved you that she lost her shot at something she has been working years for. She just rolled her still crying eyes and scoffed. The girl had long lost hope that she would win the prize when she saw the dazzling show you and Coryo pulled. You both were already the top contenders for the prize, and it angered her again that you both were so chummy. That you weren’t so cut-throat. Cut-throat.
Did you deserve your cut throat for one last task to win the prize?
“We both know it was never going to be me. My tribute would never have won, and she didn't have anything to offer to the audience.”
You were ready to argue with such a blatant statement about a girl who is now a cold body. But she cut you off with a swift change in subject.
“Shame, though. Dr. Gaul won't get to those proposals from her star mentor.”
The emotions and hysteria of the now smirking girl had ceased as she returned to her normal behavior. Behavior, no matter how sour, brought you some comfort. Arachne Crane was good competition if nothing else.
“Well, why not? I’m going to be here until I get released in the morning. Might as well get something done.”
You matched her smirk as you asked for her to bring some parchment and ink. In all honesty, you did forget the proposals. And well, you had a pretty good excuse, an attack and all; you knew that wouldn't matter to Dr. Gaul.
You didn't necessarily like her as she seemed too manic for your taste, but this was a great chance to put your name out there. Especially in the scientific world as you were heavily interested in going down a path in biology, something you had a real knack for. There were few people more important in that field in the Capital than Dr. Gaul. Being able to please, possibly impress her, would be a major accomplishment. And well, you might be able to sway some public opinion enough to give more chances to the “weaker” tributes.
Arachne grumbled as she handed you the desired items, but you ignored her. She took a seat beside you, settling in to watch you work. With a deep breath and dip of your pen, the bold words were written, dark as the punishment it presented.
THE HUNGER GAMES.
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