#slow burn to eventual smut

[pretendfan]

{Roommates} ELEVEN

(A/N: Do not readjust your screens cos yes it’s true, I’m finally back baby! In honour of the very first chapter being posted a whole year ago last month now. I decided it was time to carry on with this ridiculous story cos there were quite a few things left unsaid, but don’t worry I’m here and here it is the first instalment of part two of the series….hope you ENJOY🙌)

(additional: huge, huge, huge shoutout to @powerfultenderness and @likedovesinthewnd for words of encouragement about this story and both helping me along the way♥️)

(Pairing)

Adrian Chase x Female reader

(Summary)

Desperately in need of a roommate, your co-worker knows a guy, but why did it have to be Adrian? The guy both annoyed and frustrated the hell out of you getting under your skin from the very moment that you had met him.

But this was only temporary there was no need to complicate things by really getting to know one another or even worse catch feels along the way. Sure it had been a while for both of you but hooking up with your roommate was a terrible idea…

wasn’t it?

(Words)

9k (ish)

(Warning)

18+ adults only: Lots of swearing, mentions of sex, mentions of injuries and blood..

{eleven}

“Fuck.”

Cursing softly at first, you then repeat the word a lot louder the second time around rolling onto your back alone in bed, unable to fall asleep despite the fact that work would be beckoning you in a couple of hours.

Removing a hand from your underwear you admit defeat, there was simply no chance in hell that you would be sleeping anytime soon, and the invitation of a quick orgasm lulling you into any sense of calm escapes from your grasp by the second.

Debating the whereabouts of your vibrator you cannot actually be bothered to look for it, unless a certain someone was to walk in here right now and help you out, otherwise there was absolutely no point.

This right here was definitely becoming an on-going problem, one that you couldn’t either talk your way out of or try to blatantly ignore, all because of your idiotic roommate who was notably quite incredible in the sack.

Granted previous hook ups with others were nothing to write home about, but Adrian had set a new standard, one that not even your right hand could keep up with which was a low blow.

“Fuck!” You snap loudly to nobody in particular because of course you are still alone in the apartment, with your muddled thoughts all leading back to the culprit one who had robbed you of sleep, as well as a orgasm or two but who was counting.

Getting out of bed you grudgingly get dressed again into a pair of grey leggings, wearing an old cropped pink tee you yawn resignedly as you get out of bed and walk out to the kitchen, it was definitely coffee time.

Shaking your head whilst you listen to the coffee machine get to work, you cannot believe that this was your life now, very little sleep and a constant thought stream of Adrian chase.

The guy who had grudgingly agreed to move into your apartment, whilst taking over your life despite not being here right now, actually you had no idea where the guy of your dreams (or was it nightmares) was?

That was the thing with Adrian even though the pair of you were just keeping things light and breezy, a statement that should have raised a hundred red flags, yet here you were still unable to sleep the very opposite of things being easy.

The only time you did ever got a decent night sleep was when Adrian was in the apartment, be it in your bed or on the couch the pair of you laying together, putting the world to right with arguments over the best hot pocket filling and conversations like that.

“You are so wrong though-“

“Ham and cheese, it’s simple but so delicious.” You cut off Adrian with a smirk noticing the horrified look on your roommates face.

“Are you mental?” Adrian retorts then seeing the look you give him quickly adds “I was watching Wayne’s World last night, that line was appropriate for the moment.”

“Well in context I will actually let you off that little remark-“

“Cool! So what were we talking about? Oh yeah, Hot pocket toppings let me tell you what reigns supreme around these parts.”

Having learned long ago that once he started Adrian could easily talk for hours, just one random topic introduced and he was away, but of course you knew exactly how to distract him now with ease.

Either kiss the excited words right out of his mouth, because Adrian could never resist an impromptu make out session, but usually that tactic would quickly lead to you hurriedly straddling his lap as well.

The animalistic urge to get closer impossible to resist, whilst you would feel his cock already getting hard and ready to go, the aforementioned random conversation was usually soon forgotten about as well.

Smiling to yourself you pour a large mug of black coffee, suddenly missing the feeling of having Adrian behind you his face buried in your neck, hands gripping your sides steadily as he told you over and over how hot you were.

It was a confidence boost to say the very least, but standing there right now alone in your kitchen it hits you not quite for the first time, exactly how much you miss Adrian when he isn’t here which was becoming a lot.

But you had complete control over it despite the lack of sleep and ache between your legs, this was all just for fun a statement you’ve used quite a lot, over the time that you have been hooking up with Adrian which was a whole month already.

Sitting down at the kitchen island you place both hands around the large blue mug, with a colourful smile on your face despite the early hour because overall Adrian has been quite the interesting distraction, a very sexy one for sure if truth be told.

Well when he is here at the apartment at least you surmise, because this morning already marked day three of Adrian being AWOL, but you wasn’t at all worried or at least you told yourself that.

Part of the deal was that the pair of you had your own lives, which briefly intertwined and you was completely cool with that, it was just that something felt off with this whole set up.

…was this all too good to be true?

There had to be a reason why Adrian was spending so much time away from the apartment, and you with your needs but of course you had tried to voice all of this previously but to no avail, clearly it was nothing to be worried about right now.

Of course your ex was still hovering over you well the presence he left behind anyway, not that he was dead or anything just that the guy was finally out of your life, or so you assumed thanks to not having to field calls from the asshole anymore.

Things were clearly looking up and you had Adrian to thank for that, being both the rebound that you needed and the fuck buddy slash roommate who kind of stuck to your rules, the ones you had to keep adding to the fridge so he would see them anyway.

Sneaking a glance at the fridge door makes you smile yet again to yourself, it widens even bigger still when you recall an evening when Adrian had come home from work, still dressed in his uniform.

See there were many pro’s to having Adrian in your life, despite the guy being misunderstood by a lot of people you took him quirks and all, because the package deal was truly a fucking sight to behold.

Likewise seeing him in his Fennel Fields uniform usually left very little to your imagination, just like that evening when Adrian had walked through the door, and you had decided there and then that he needed to undress right this second.

“I think you should take off that apron.” You inform Adrian in a sultry voice that surprises both yourself and your roommate.

“Oh, really?” Adrian questions with a smirk whilst untying his beige apron, green eyes staring at you with a playful smirk on his lips.

“Shirt next-“

“Not the sexy hat?” Adrian questions with an arched eyebrow.

“Nope, keep that on.” You wink back at Adrian then add “The trousers definitely need to go next.”

“What are you up to-“

“Be patient and you will see.” You state with a lick of your lips which makes Adrian pull down his trousers hurriedly.

You recall with a wicked grin walking slowly over to Adrian, then getting down onto your knees you look up view obscured by dark eyelashes, as you proceed to make out with his slick abs tracing your tongue gently over the firm lines causing your roommate to groan in response.

Thanks to that memory and quickly recalling exactly what had happened next, you squeeze your thighs together tightly at the idea of something happening again soon, but then you remember that Adrian wasn’t even here to help you out.

Having driven yourself mad by overthinking things to the point that you may never sleep again, you decide this was all fucking ridiculous, but at least you were passing the time between now and work only at what cost to your own needs.

That was the thing for someone who had agreed to all this, you still didn’t know where Adrian went spending time away from the apartment and yourself, unable to not take it a little personally but no one else knew that…

“You don’t need to know.” Adrian would inform you in that monotone voice that signalled the conversation was over.

“Should I be worried-“

“Of course not! I’m a big boy.” Adrian confirms with a sly look on his face then quickly states “ I stay late at work, I hang out with Scott or work friends it’s all good.”

“But the late nights-“

“Erm y/n you are kinda starting to sound like my mom right now.” Adrian informs you with a well-timed grimace that makes you roll your eyes.

“Ok I get it-“

“Well you were the one who wanted to keep things simple, this just makes things easier all round.” Adrian states then with a quick kiss on your forehead, he leaves the apartment without a second glance.

Since that conversation you have left the subject matter well alone, which obviously resulted in all this, whatever this was because there was no way things could get serious between you two…right?

Either way the collection of unnecessary thoughts circling around in your mind were indeed firmly off the table, you needed rid of them and the only way was to have a shower, that idea would at least help you out in one way.

Then it would be hurrying to get dressed followed by rushing to work, straight through the morning and lunch rush because the only good thing about your job, was the satisfying way it acted as a full on disturbance for all your stressful needs.

“Why haven’t you left yet?” Scott asks his unwelcome guest, the one who just wouldn’t get the fucking hint already.

“I can’t move.” Adrian whines from a curled up position, trying to hide from everything and nothing, it was easier for everyone if he just stayed here for the foreseeable.

“Shit excuse dude.” Scott deadpans looking over at his oldest friend, the one who was still not moving from the couch, this could very soon become a problem.

“It’s the fucking truth.” Adrian groans into the couch cushion, his face pressed flat against the synthetic fabric, it was really uncomfortable but he currently deserved this kind of torture.

“You know I asked y/n if you could move in with her, but here you are yet again at my place.” Scott begins his voice dripping with sarcasm as he asks “ Did you two like fight or has your roommate found out how shit you are in bed?”

“I made my roommate cum seven times once actually.” Retorts Adrian slowly moving his head up from the couch, to gage his friends reaction, because the statement was all true.

“Bullshit-“

“A lady never tells, but let me tell you that once I get between her thighs magic happens.” Adrian declares finally sitting up from his position on the couch, even adding jazz hands to back up his wild declaration.

“Ok, I work with y/n I don’t think she would like you talking-“

“Seven times.” Adrian cuts off Scott whilst he pretends to count his fingers, a wide grin playing across his face that kind of cheers him up.

“No need to be smug about it.” Scott quickly declares but then adds with a laugh “You do need to tell her the truth though dude.”

“Y/n already knows that I am dynamite in bed-“

“That isn’t what I mean and you fucking know it, if you valued whatever you have with your roommate then you should be honest.” Scott shrugs back at Adrian who runs a hand through his messy hair in obvious annoyance.

“That’s a big ask-“

“So, what is the deal between you and y/n then? I know you guys are clearly hooking up but here you are yet again obviously avoiding her.” Scott cuts off Adrian with the million dollar question, one that not even he could truly answer, well out loud anyway.

“Im not avoiding anyone.” Adrian begins with a hint of deflection in his voice as he adds “ It’s not complicated, but I’m also kind of protective of both myself and how my secret will eventually affect y/n.”

“Oh, and what secret is that?” Scott asks whilst rolling his eyes in his friends direction.

“Don’t start you already know-“

“Well, you are going to have to tell her pretty soon who you really are.” Scott reminds Adrian in a firm voice, making him feel like he was being scolded and not liking it one bit, so he decided it was time to deflect even more.

“Tell y/n that I am really the dark knight?” Adrian questions with a smile that descends into giggles, because he could be funny too.

“I don’t think she would even believe that for a second-“

“Besides Vigilante’s suit is way cooler by the way!” Adrian practically yells cutting off Scott who grins back at him.

“Yeah but you’re not even Batman famous-“

“In Evergreen I am!” Adrian snaps standing up from the couch as if the is would help get the point across to his idiot friend.

“Hardly-“

“Dude, just drop it.” Adrian states narrowing his green eyed glare towards Scott who looked nonplussed.

“Anyways, back to my original question-“

“Just fucking drop it ok?!” Adrian shouts which actually does shut Scott up, but only for about five seconds.

“Someone has it so bad!” Scott laughs with obvious glee on his face.

“Nope.” Adrian states quickly but then adds for luck “You know I have like zero feelings.”

“Well, this is definitely gonna bite your ass sooner or later then!” Scott mutters in Adrian’s direction with a shake of his head.

“Yeah but that’s something for future me to deal with, right now I’m pretty golden.” Adrian surmises with a laugh clearly but firmly because that was the end of the that discussion.

“Whatever.” Scott sighs back in obvious annoyance.

It isn’t until a whole forty eight hours later that you see Adrian, walking into an empty Karma coffee whilst you were tackling a late shift alone with Phoebe, but finally seeing his face again makes your stomach flip and a wicked grin suddenly appears on your face.

This was just the interruption you needed because work wasn’t fulfilling its purpose, for once in fuck knows how long you couldn’t stop thinking about a guy, which meant that Adrian had been well and truly stuck in your thoughts.

… the whole damn day.

Yet here he finally was looking nonchalant about the whole thing, whilst you wanted to rush around from the counter and pull him into a hug, maybe some soft making out but keeping it PG13 because you was still at work after all.

Both respect and consent were two big deals that you knew had to stay on the table, but whenever Adrian was around all you really wanted to do was climb the guy, messy thoughts leading to you practically having to sit on your hands usually to avoid grabbing him at first sight.

What was it about this guy that made you act so feral?

Right now it was because the coffee shop had been quiet so far this evening, which was a bore because Conor hadn’t left any work for you to do, so instead you were inconveniently subjected to Phoebe talking the whole time.

“Hey, look who has decided to come crawling back?” Phoebe asks Adrian with a wink aimed in your direction, that your roommate choses not to notice.

“Why would I do that-“

“You know why?!” Phoebe retorts loudly which instantly makes you regret opening up to your co-worker, but it was the only way to shut her up, by talking about your own problems cos she was truly a sucker for a woeful tale.

“Hey roomie!” You call out to Adrian going for light and breezy, but ending up sounding more dark and restless so you lean an arm on the counter instead, casually as fuck or so you assume.

“Are you ok?” Adrian aims the question at you with a worrying glance, which instantly makes you move because you were trying to look chilled out not completely unhinged.

“I’m fine.” You begin quickly but then add subtly as an afterthought “ So, where have you been then?”

“Real smooth y/n.” Phoebe remarks with a giggle, but seeing the face that you pull she quickly gets back to stacking the reusable cups.

“Jeez, I’ve just been like super busy!” Adrian states in a sulky voice, which makes you look away from Phoebe to spot your roommate not quite meeting your gaze.

“That’s absolutely fine.” You begin with a nod and then state sharply “ But a text or something would have helped me from worrying, I mean wondering-“

“Missing me in the bedroom were we roomie?” Adrian asks with glee cutting you off with his alarming question, that has Phoebe watching the both of you without a care in the world.

“As if-“

“I hope you haven’t been having too much fun without me? Your collection of sex toys is quite impressive, but I’m the kinda guy who likes a little extra fun.” Adrian cuts you off with a smug look on his face that should be annoying, but instead you feel heat embarrassingly flood your underwear.

“I don’t think that Phoebe needs to-“

“Don’t worry about little old me, I’m definitely not listening to this super private conversation.” Phoebe informs you with a devilish grin that proves the complete opposite.

“That’s because I’m now changing the subject!” You retort quickly and with a swift wave of your hand to also signal that they were now done.

“Are you blushing? That’s so cute!” Adrian smiles at you widely, a heavily dimpled grin that makes your stomach perform acrobatics whilst you subtly squeeze your thighs together.

“Let’s talk about this later.” You singsong back at your roommate complete with a pointed look.

“My bed or yours?” Adrian winks happily which causes Phoebe to cough loudly from beside you.

Noticing three guys all walking into the shop you briefly welcome their arrival, hoping that Adrian would quit giving you that look, the one he usually wore before you dragged him into your bed.

“Well I doubt these three guys want to know all the sordid details.” You state looking to the newly arrived customers, all smiles aimed back in your direction, which clearly puts out Adrian as he stands a little more to attention.

“They might want pointers?” Adrian questions with a wink aimed firmly in your direction, but then he looks back as if he recognises one of the guys, a double look which leads to a firm line tensing his jaw.

“Is this the place where it happened?” One of the guys, you notice wearing a balaclava for a hat begins completely ignoring Adrian as he continues “Was there really a sighting of that douchebag Vigilante here, in this shit hole!”

“Excuse me-“

“Vigilante is not a douchebag!” Yells Adrian cutting you off from your hastily prepared speech about Karma coffee.

“What is with the weird hat you are wearing anyway?” Questions Phoebe eyeballing the tall uneasy dude, with the mustard coloured hat, which was just like you expected a balaclava that he hastily pulls it down over his ratchet face.

“We are here for Vigilante-“

“It isn’t like the guy frequents here for coffee or anything, duh!” Phoebe cuts off the second guy, shorter in height, but with blonde hair in a bun.

“Vigilante doesn’t even like coffee!” Shouts Adrian which makes everyone look round at him, whilst he explains “That’s what I heard, ok, so don’t go and like shoot the messenger or anything!”

“Get lost loser.” States man bun angrily which makes Adrian hold his hands on his hips in retaliation.

“You are definitely going to regret saying that!” Adrian demands unhelpfully.

“Leave him, we are here for the hot barista chicks.” Guy number three announces finally piping up with a creepy laugh, whilst proceeding to cut off an angry looking Adrian who was bouncing on his feet.

“I’m definitely not interested.” Phoebe proclaims once again folding her arms with purpose.

“Like we said hot stuff we’re really here for Vigilante.” Guy with the man bun reminds us like that was a definite plot point in this scene taking place.

“He has been seen several times around these parts, so we are here to have some fun with you ladies until the asshole appears.” Guy number three states with a gnarly grin that makes your skin crawl.

“What did we do?” Phoebe asks indignantly whilst folding her arms, sulking like she was about to have a complete meltdown, which pretty much tracks for her.

“Nothing yet gorgeous.” Guy number two with the man bun declares, quickly followed by a wink which makes your co worker pull a disgusted face.

“This is not happening-“

Before you finish that sentence you notice two things one that an elderly couple have just walked into the shop, and secondly that Adrian was suddenly nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Adrian?” You hiss at Phoebe who shrugs back helpfully, which does nothing to calm your annoyance right this second, where the hell did he go?

“Enough of the pleasantries let’s get this fucking party started!” Shouts balaclava dude pulling out a small gun from under his black hoodie, which causes the elderly couple to thankfully flee right back out of the coffee shop.

“We have nothing to do with this Vigilante dipshit!” You announce darkly at the same time that Phoebe puts her hands up when she finally spots the gun in the room.

“He was seen here?” Questions balaclava guy his voice muffled slightly by the fabric obscuring his lips.

“Out the back of the store, well over a month ago might I add, but we haven’t seen him since.” You retort whilst trying to hide the annoyance from your voice, because this could not be happening right now, where the fucking hell was Adrian.

“Read the news, he’s a busy guy!” Shouts Phoebe again unhelpfully which makes you wish that you were anywhere else but here right now.

“Look.” You begin in a calm voice pushing away all negative thoughts towards your roommate to ask “ We can figure this all out but you will have to put that gun away first.”

“Or what sweetheart?” Questions balaclava guy who grins smugly taking a step forward, whilst you try to stand tall from behind the counter.

“Here we go-“

“Fuck this!” Snaps the third guy cutting off Phoebe, whilst he nudges his accomplice hard on the shoulder as he adds “ Can we talk to the manager because there can’t just be you two little ladies here all alone?”

“Sadly it is just us little ladies who are having to suffer with all this bullshit!” You snap then raise your hands when another gun is aimed at you from across the room.

“Hey, where did your boyfriend that super nerdy guy go to?” Mr man-bun guy asks over you his voice as grating as his appearance.

“He isn’t my boyfriend.” You provide as if everyone needed to know that right this second.

Regardless man-bun had just made a very good point, you think to yourself noticing that Adrian had yet to make a reappearance, even though you could’ve really used his help right about now.

The guy had some muscles and he knew how to use them, well in the bedroom at least you had gained first hand knowledge of that, but clearly right now wasn’t the time for that kind of thinking.

Having literally seen him earlier for less than ten minutes, you couldn’t help but wonder if Adrian was actually avoiding you, chuckling out loud to yourself at the stupidity of your thoughts because the store was literally being held up.

“What are you laughing at bitch?” One of the assholes snaps but you ignore them equally pissed at so many things, seeing how tonight was rapidly turning to shit in so many ways.

“Let’s just cut to the chase here ladies, I want you to empty out the register right now or I will start firing shots-“

“All of this trouble is being caused for a few measly bucks?” Phoebe demands with wide eyes, cutting off the apparent ringleader Mr balaclava, who replies with a cacophony of slurs in return.

“What the hell-“

“I’m getting really fucked off now!” Yells the shortest of the guys, luckily sans gun but the red of his face, matched the colour of his hair and in turn his apparent mood.

…you and me both sir.

Meanwhile Adrian was stood halfway down a conveniently placed alleyway, situated beside the coffee shop, hurriedly tugging down his work trousers to replace them with his suit he would show those assholes.

But first Adrian needed to obviously become less of a civilian and more like his alter ego Vigilante, happy that there had yet to be any gunfire but he needed to hurry up, save y/n and of course Phoebe like the badass that he was.

Recognising one of the assholes from somewhere but unsure where, Adrian quickly concludes that they will be easy to get rid of seeing how inept they were, plus he was also in the mood to exact some pain.

…for protective reasons of course.

Obviously Adrian cared about his roommate and he knew they were both having fun together, but he had needed some time away despite missing y/n late at night, Scott’s words suddenly echoing around in his head like an annoying pop song.

This was where things were actually complicated because he could show y/n who he really was like right now, the idea makes him regret his lunch choice, the feeling that it might reappear causes him to leap up quickly to his feet.

The decision was simple, for now he would continue being both Vigilante and of course Adrian separately, but right this second he has some serious ass kicking to do to protect his roommate.

Combat trousers, black long sleeve and work boots all finally back on, Adrian glances up the alleyway to see if he was being watched, because someone could report him and that was the last thing he needed right now.

Hiding his rucksack behind a green dumpster, Adrian briefly hopes that no one would steal it, because his work clothes were in there, plus some ninja stars that he couldn’t carry.

Not having his full armour because it obviously couldn’t fit in his bag, did put him at a disadvantage of course, but that’s why he trained as hard as he could.

…especially in hand to hand combat.

Debating his opening line Adrian bounces on his feet but stops dead when he hears, the unmistakable sound of a gun being fired, a million and one desperate thoughts litter his mind as he races further down to the back entrance of the coffee shop.

“Was you supposed to do that?” Phoebe asks aiming her question at the balaclava dude, who stupidly just shot his own leg and right now he was on the floor groaning in pain.

“Does it look like it?!” Curses the idiot on the floor sarcasm pouring from his voice kind of like the blood from his leg wound.

“Look, who do I need to call?” You exclaim cutting off one of the other idiots as you forcefully retort “ Either an Uber to get you to the hospital or the cops you decide.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary right now.” A deep voice states loudly behind you, turning round to spot the whole reason why this was all happening right now.

“Oh shit, it’s Vigilante!” Phoebe cries with apparent glee that makes you roll your eyes, why was this masked idiot even in Evergreen still, and not like in jail where he should be.

“That’s the asshole!?” The guy on the floor yells like no one had yet seen Vigilante standing there, arms folded across his firm chest wearing a black long sleeve that was definitely working wonders for him.

You shake your head angrily at that thought, why was it that right now you were checking out the masked guy, and not like grabbing Phoebe instead to make a quick exit out of this place.

“Don’t just fucking stand there and gawp get him!” Balaclava guy snaps causing you to look back at Vigilante who was still rooted to the spot.

“I think we should leave-“ You begin slowly.

“Nobody moves!” Shouts man bun guy moving away from his hurt teammate on the floor, causing Phoebe to step back from the counter and you grab firmly onto her lower arm.

“I think that you guys are finished here right?” Vigilante questions whilst walking straight past you and Phoebe, to vault over the counter despite it being open at the end to land straight on top of the man-bun guy.

“Get him!” Groans balaclava dude trying to get up from the floor, not doing a great job seeing there was a lot of blood around him he must have shot himself pretty deep.

Adrian grabs at the guy he was currently standing on, pulling one of his arms out he then stomps on it firmly, joyous was the screams that erupted from the idiot as he continued to kick the crap out of him.

“Trying to hold up a coffee shop? Pretty lame job guys I think the shooting yourself aspect a sweet twist though.” Vigilante states with a deep laugh that reverberates through his mask emphasising the glee tenfold.

“They were here for you!” Phoebe announces which makes you widen her eyes at her whilst she grins back.

“Well here I am ladies!” Vigilante announces loudly.

“I am going to kill you once and for all myself!” Balaclava dude shouts finally standing up and looking super pissed off as he attempts to swipe at Vigilante.

“Who are you even I-“

“You killed his brother!” Shouts the short redhead angrily as he then states “ And now it’s your turn!”

“Can you at least take this outside?” You shout noticing a group of people standing around by the store front, several holding phones up which were in turn obscuring their faces.

“It’s fine babe I’ve got this!” Vigilante waves off your comment with a cocky shake of his head, which briefly makes you narrow your eyes at the masked idiot despite the fact he was helping you out.

….none of this made sense?!

Where was Adrian in all this? Vigilante’s number one fan boy and he was nowhere in sight, probably got called away by Scott who was off work today, this information somehow annoyed you even more.

“Nothing to see here!” Vigilante announces whilst holding the injured criminal in a firm headlock, before he drops down on the floor pulling a perfected wrestling move, he must have learned from a certain wrestling federation.

“Fuck!!!!” Screeches the guy on the floor no longer caring about his leg wound, because his head had just aggressively met the floor, causing you to look away.

“Should I be calling the cops?” Phoebe asks you, looking a little ashamed as she continues to film on her phone what was happening, whilst Vigilante destroyed the shop.

Sure he was beating the crap out of these guys, who granted were idiots but did they even deserve this, also the masked anti hero had broken a display that you had spent ages preparing the other day.

“I don’t even know your brother who I apparently killed?” Vigilante questions whilst two of the three assailants were laying on the floor, hell you weren’t even sure if they were breathing.

“Wild hearts-“

“Oh fuck, that shitty little crew?”Vigilante retorts incredulously then with a muffled snort adds “The have all long gone, long gone if you get my meaning.”

“I’m calling the cops-“

“Wait, I’m not done yet!” Exclaims Vigilante in a deep voice , cutting you off as he tries to grab the last guy, who was stupidly trying to flee the scene.

“You are making things worse!” You snap clearly over all of this, wishing you could just shut the shop up and leave with Phoebe by your side.

“How am I making things worse?” Questions Vigilante with his gloved hands firmly attached to his hips,head tilted to the right obscured obviously by the ski mask.

“You’ve bought your bullshit back in here and I want you to fucking leave!” You shout angrily considering your idea from moments ago of just fleeing the scene.

“Thank you for protecting me Vigilante, you are such a hero and a badass!” Vigilante mimics your voice terribly as he shakes his hips at the same time.

“Can you just get the fuck out-“

“The cops have been called!” Cuts in Phoebe gleefully then pointing to the masked idiot adds “ You better leave Vigilante.”

“One sec.” Vigilante laments as he reaches one hand into the pocket of his fitted trousers, pulling out something you cannot see until it’s thrown at the guy who was trying to escape.

…huh ninja star, explains a lot.

“What the fuck?!” Cries the last guy to hit the floor, trying to get aforementioned item out of his back without much luck at all.

“I did it! Thank you ladies and gentleman, what a performance?!” Vigilante shouts raising both arms above his head, which briefly causes his fitted black long sleeve to rise up, you feel Phoebe hit you very hard on the arm.

“Can you get-“

“One more thing before I go.” Vigilante cuts you off which makes you fold your arms across your chest, but soon you drop them to your sides, wondering what the hell you were currently watching.

“This is my victory dance!” Announces Vigilante out of breath, hands still above his head as he shakes his whole body it was a sight to behold, truly.

Moments later you hear the chorus to one of Beyoncé’s songs being played out, quickly looking at Phoebe who was pointing back at the masked weirdo, currently gyrating his hips which made you close your mouth.

“My butt, my butt, look at my crazy, sexy butt!” Adrian sings whilst placing both his gloved hands on the back of his ass, as he continues to shake what his mama gave him.

You find yourself unable to look away from what was happening, which was Vigilante dancing like he had not a single care whatsoever, the lucky bastard.

“Adrian would be super jealous right now if he saw your face.”Laughed Phoebe catching the look you make which was apparently a picture to say the least.

“Here are the cops!” You announce at the same time your co worker turns the song off from her phone, causing Vigilante to stop dancing like he was in a dance club and not a coffee shop.

“That’s my cue!-“

“Thank you Vigilante!” Phoebe cuts off whatever the masked guy was going to say, instead he salutes the both of you then races out the back, hopefully that would be the last you ever saw of him again.

“I better go talk to the cops.” You begin stepping out from behind the counter, avoiding the three guys all groaning on the floor, being especially careful not to slip on the blood either.

“Think I need a moment!” Declares Phoebe with a low whistle escaping her lips as she states “That was so hot, I need to call Vince and see if he’s free now I’m horny.”

“From all this!?” You question your voice sounding disbelieving despite enjoying the ridiculous dance that Vigilante had performed a little too much yourself.

“Don’t judge!” Pouts Phoebe but it soon transforms into a grin when she adds “ I bet if Adrian was here right now you would be all over him.”

“It’s not like that-“

“Sure, you are just friends who now hook up, the greatest idea that has never gone wrong in the history of ever.” Phoebe retorts quickly complete with a smug smile to finish off her statement with a flourish.

“Yeah, just friends.” You announce flippantly whilst watching, as two uniformed cops finally walk into the shop, taking in the ridiculous scene around them.

…it was going to be a long night and you really, really, really didn’t need this bullshit right now.

With a smile that just wouldn’t quit, Adrian believes that earlier tonight had gone so well, sure he had originally been there just for his roommate but the final payoff had been immense.

A bunch of losers looking for Vigilante when he was right there, literally under all of their noses, it was too perfect he just hoped that his roommate now appreciated the masked vigilante a little bit more.

Adrian knew that he shouldn’t have felt so smug about all this, but he just couldn’t believe his luck, so much so that he had spent a lot of time this evening hunting other criminals.

…why waste a good run of luck when things were going so good!

Smirking to himself under his mask he just couldn’t shake off how happy he felt, gone was the stupid idea of him hiding away from you, Adrian could just continue to be himself and no one else would be the wiser.

Only difference now was that he was hooking up with you, he clearly cared about y/n despite telling everyone otherwise, but Adrian could in no way ever tell you the truth about himself.

Well not anytime soon anyway because he wanted to protect you, and in turn himself definitely not wanting you to get hurt for his own actions, also how could he even begin to explain everything to you.

Scott liked to joke that it was so obvious who Vigilante was, but Adrian knew he had a pretty good track record at hiding his endeavours, it was just that he needed to play this well and somehow make his BFF proud.

It was moments like this quite late at night, that he found himself wondering about Chris Smith, because Adrian missed the guy so much but he was also glad that you were still around.

Scott however usually scoffed at Adrian whenever he bought up his real bff, citing that his oldest friend was still around, and his crush was rotting in some prison somewhere.

Granted that was true but Adrian hated the idea of Chris being in trouble or even worse dead, that was the final thought that made his smile slip of his face, how had he even gone from thinking of you to this?

Locking away those thoughts somewhere in the back of his mind, Adrian goes to call Chris it was a habit he still had yet cut out, listening as it goes to voicemail reminding him that he also missed hanging out with Eagly as well.

Shoving said phone back down deep into his pocket, he ponders the idea of bringing home a pet back to the apartment, wondering if you would be cool with either a guinea pig or something way more exotic.

Adrian stands up from his position on the curb, considering his idea for a moment but then thinks better of it, as he imagines a tiger for example wrecking the apartment which wouldn’t go in his favour for sure.

…more importantly where would he even get a tiger and at this hour of the night, it was impossible.

“Thank you officer for the lift back.” You tell the female cop who grins back friendly, brushing some curly dark brown hair from her face, and with one final wave she disappears from view.

Wow, and you thought that Adrian was the masked Vigilante’s number one fan? He had nothing on this woman who short of keeping a scrapbook, knew an awful lot about the masked maniac’s coming and goings.

Telling you how others teased her on the knowledge she held, the guy was an obvious psychopath of course but he was interesting in his movements, oh and hey did you see his ass?

Not like literally of course but your mind betrays your bad mood, by recalling the moment that Vigilante had won and broke out dancing, shaking his cute butt like his life depended on it.

…was it wrong that the aforementioned image was now a core memory for you?

Chucking down your bag at the same time you shake that very thought away, you recall why you was still in such a mood, oh yeah it was because of your roommate.

Where the fuck was Adrian? Seeing how he had just left without even saying goodbye, was he in trouble or like you kept suspecting just avoiding you.

What had you done? Everything was cool from your end of things, what was wrong with Adrian, did he think the sex was bad or something between you.

That thought makes you stop directly in your tracks, on your way through to the open plan kitchen, fuck had Adrian gone cold were you acting too needy or something for him?

Ok you were back to spiralling all over again, when in fact you should be angry at Adrian for leaving you at Karma coffee, because something bad could have actually happened earlier tonight.

Now that’s the thought which leaves a sour lump in your throat, what if the guys holding up the coffee shop had actually been competent in their field, leaving yourself or Phoebe injured or worse in their shitty efforts.

Luckily Vigilante had happened to appear at the right time, which was also suspicious but you knew Evergreen was filled with idiots and psychopaths, even though this specific one did kind of save your life.

…once again.

Taking a deep breath you feel overwhelmed with your thoughts, so take a seat on the floor instead of the stool beside you, placing both of your hands flat on the cold wooden surface you ground yourself.

Usually evenings working with Phoebe were spent listening to her talk on and on, she spoke enough for both of you sometimes, during those moments when you needed quiet most of the time.

Instead tonight had been a complete mess which left you feeling a little lost, not to mention how you were going to explain everything to Conor tomorrow, he would find out a way to blame you for all this somehow.

You chuckle to yourself when you realise that more than anything right now, you wished that Adrian was here with you for a cuddle, seeing how he gave the best hugs understanding the cue when you needed comfort most.

…which was super sweet, because he knew your needs even better than you did sometimes.

Remembering that he wasn’t even here to yell at makes you angry all over again, was he playing games or just being oblivious, clearly you didn’t know the answer which makes you silently scream into your hands.

Fuck this, you needed a shower to wash away the events of tonight, hopefully Adrian would be back by the time you were finished, then you could finally have some kind of a talk with him.

…maybe even finish the night with some make up sex.

That was what it actually boiled down to, you were still frustrated of course and the past couple of days hadn’t helped one bit, so all you needed was one night to make things right.

Apparently this was clearly asking too much when you finish drying your hair, leaving it messy and curly to match your feelings, because of course Adrian wasn’t back yet.

But this wasn’t good enough for you, because it was about time you finally had some answers, otherwise you would not be sleeping again tonight which was not an option.

Fine if he wanted to play the avoidance card then you would try and get his attention, despite the fact you had been doing the exact same, but that didn’t matter right now obviously.

Calling his number only leads to Adrian’s voicemail, where you were seconds away from leaving a message, but instead you call him another five times in a row all yielding the same result.

…where the fuck was he?!

Scott watches the TV through both of his hands which were poorly shielding his eyes, Karma coffee was on the late night news, whilst Adrian was sat next to him narrating over the reporter what had taken place.

“Vigilante saves the day yet again this evening, but sadly there were no casualties not even one bad guy died, which was a little disheartening-“

“I can’t actually believe this!” Scott cuts off Adrian loudly as he continues “How the hell is y/n because I know she was working late tonight?”

“Well that’s the thing…” Begins Adrian with a loud sigh which causes his friends eyes to widen but he soon consoles Scott as he states “oh no she’s fine! Still pretty sore at Vigilante but I will soon win her over.”

“That’s all you have to fucking say?” Scott asks with a firm punch to Adrian’s right side as he adds “ Please tell me the whole story, plus why the fuck are you even here and not with your roommate-“

Scott stops talking when he hears his friends annoying ringtone, some Britney Spears song that made him want to rip out his own ears, but that was a whole other thing.

“Who is it-“

“I better take this.” Adrian declares with a blank look on his face, closely followed by a loud audible gulp which makes Scott grab the TV remote to mute the news.

Staring at the phone screen you cannot believe your eyes, when you notice that Adrian had actually answered the call, his voicemail hadn’t kicked in after eleven rings so that was actually him speaking.

“It’s you!” You announce in a way more softer tone than you were originally going for in your opening statement.

“Hey y/n how are things?” Adrian asks you trying to go for smooth, but it falls pretty flat even to your own ears.

“How am I?” You retort sarcastically the fact you had been happy to get hold of him, was swiftly replaced by that anger you had been holding onto quite tightly.

Hearing muffled voices on Adrian’s end you can clearly make out Scott’s voice, warning his friend about something, quickly followed by a door closing loudly.

“I’m alone now-“

“Are you at Scott’s?” You demand cutting off whatever your roommate was about to say whilst surmising “So you skipped out of Karma without even saying goodbye to me, when moments later the actual store was held up!”

There is a far too long pause ,which makes you look at your screen to make sure the call was still active, what the hell was Adrian playing at?

“I-er I had to go to work I was running super late, wow the shop was actually held up how are you?” Adrian replies eventually complete with stumbling his words, leaving you with a brief sense that this guy was indeed talking absolute crap.

“So you do care then? Well your fanboy crush Vigilante came and saved us somehow-“

“Oh, shoot did I miss Vigilante?” Adrian questions quickly cutting you off yet again, which was still very fucking annoying.

“Yeah, if you had stayed at the shop you would’ve seen your fave anti hero, maybe even had time to get his autograph.” You state voice filled with venom, because this was not going how you had expected it to.

“I don’t carry my autograph book everywhere with me-“

“That was sarcasm, how could you have left me, I haven’t seen you for days and then you fuck off again?!” You snap cutting off Adrian this time, who you then hear sigh down the phone, like this call was an inconvenience for him.

“Honestly I was just busy.” Adrian laments in a low voice which makes you roll your eyes as he states “ I genuinely had to work, I’ve been busy, I thought I was being breezy.”

You cannot help but laugh after Adrian says this, but then you quickly imagine his face that kicked puppy look which made you want to protect him, but was he telling the truth?

“I think I should crash at Scott’s tonight-“

“I think that you should to!” You yell hanging up the call on Adrian, feeling nowhere near less angry than earlier, which meant yep you guessed it.

…fuck all sleep.

Your mind was wide awake as you fought with your own thoughts, stuck staring up at the living room ceiling, laying on one of the couches instead of your own bed.

It wasn’t as if this was a serious relationship or anything, but you both needed boundaries that went without saying, especially seeing how today had been an unmitigated disaster.

…yet despite all of this you still would kill to be in Adrian’s arms right now, what the hell was wrong with you?

Closing your eyes you cannot help but imagine Adrian laying down next to you, no wait him sitting on the couch with your head on his lap, gently stroking your hair whilst his other hand rests low on your hip.

…ready to move lower at a moments notice the thought makes a soft whine escape your lips, making you roll onto your front to bury your face in much needed embarrassment.

Thanks to the ludicrous events back at Karma coffee, both yourself and Phoebe are rewarded with the next couple of days off work, and you didn’t even have a speech prepared to thank everyone.

Clearly you were still in a bad mood over everything, how had things been so good recently and then all this shit suddenly happened at once, what’ve you done to deserve this?

The last time you had heard from Adrian was a day and a half ago, so you were granted free rein of the apartment, still annoyed that you had woken up in a horny frame of mind this morning.

It was like you had arrived full circle all over again, which surely meant that this cycle of shit was now over, despite the fact that you were still super frustrated and overwhelmed.

Go figure that anger acted just like an aphrodisiac, of course only in certain cases like right now, because you were truly finding it hard to cope without your mind drifting back to your roommate.

It was hot and you felt like you were on fire, even after having a cold shower but this clearly wasn’t just because of climate change, nope it was because you just needed a real good fuck sesh.

The kind that takes takes your breath away and makes you feel helpless, like whoever your were having sex with was relentless in their efforts to make you orgasm, Adrian liked nothing more than to watch you fully lose it.

A grin spreads across your face one that soon disappears, when you remind yourself you are alone, and taking some time away from your roommate which included not thinking about him.

But that was the thing especially being stuck at the apartment, all you could think about was Adrian his things were all around the place, and you still felt like there was some unresolved words that needed to be said.

Of course he was hiding out at Scott’s place, why you wasn’t exactly sure maybe he was embarrassed he had left Karma coffee, leaving you with a psychopath and three idiot criminals.

Besides none of that actually mattered when it was too warm for clothes, the thought had crossed your mind to just walk around naked, but Adrian wasn’t here and you didn’t even know when he would be back.

Piling your hair into a messy bun, pretty sure that you had even missed a few strands of hair but there was no one here to impress, so you decided to wear a dark purple lace bralette and underwear to complete the look.

Walking back out of your room you decide to make yourself useful, obviously you needed a distraction seeing how work wasn’t on the cards, so it was time to sort out and fold your clean washing instead.

…rock and fucking roll.

Either way this would help keep you occupied for at least a few minutes, and take your mind off thinking about Adrian, how much you wanted to shout at him and then let him bend you over the couch.

Focus you remind yourself carrying on with the task in hand, until you come across a super faded black tee shirt that most definitely wasn’t yours, which meant that is must be Adrian’s.

Holding the tee shirt up makes you grin cheekily, the fabric was very soft and there were chipped red words on both sides, which were both funny and ridiculous.

“Don’t do drugs.” You announce out loud reading the front of the tee, then as you switch it round quickly state with a quick giggle “Do me.”

The very image makes warm heat throb rapidly between your legs, as a delicious thought sharply enters your mind, wouldn’t it actually be great if Adrian appeared whilst you were wearing his tee shirt.

Before overthinking it you pull the soft tee shirt over your head, pretty much at the same time that there is a loud knock on the front door, unable to believe your luck you head through the kitchen.

Sure Adrian wasn’t one to knock on the door but maybe he wanted to apologise, which would be music to your ears, and then the real fun would finally begin.

Too caught up in the idea that it actually was your roommate, you ignore the fact you were wearing a tee that just covered your ass, complete with cute lacy underwear underneath and open the front door desperately.

…go on guess who it was!?

{TAGLIST} comment to join♥️

@tiannamortis @sammyisfat @amysuemc @likedovesinthewnd @clairevoyanceee @maplefire18 @neepo @sapphicandserendipityy @bioluminescentwoerms @empressvader @adrianmunson

#adrian chase #freddie stroma #adrian chase fan fics #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase is a babe #peacemaker #vigilante #adrian chase x female reader #freddie stroma is too powerful #vigilante x female reader #catch up with roommates #roommates fic #currently writing #part two of the series #slow burn to eventual smut #cheesy fluff #fluff and heart eyes #hope you enjoy

[superprincesspea]

Courted By the Dragon - Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.

Chapter 1 - Spring

Chapter 2 - A Court of Sharks and Dances

Chapter 3 - Secret Admirer

Chapter 4 - Solitude

Chapter 5 - Cyvasse

Chapter 6 - Total Annihilation

Chapter 7 - Crumbs

Chapter 8 - Dance of the Dragon

Chapter 9 - Favour

Chapter 10- Gallantry and Bravery

Chapter 11 - Remedy

Chapter 12 - Storm Chaser

Chapter 13 - Issa Jorrāelagon

Chapter 14 - Secrets and Sapphires

Chapter 15 - Forfeit

Chapter 16 - Coming Soon

Aesthetic 1

Also available on AO3

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #romance #female reader #enemies to lovers #fluff #slow burn #slow build #falling in love #eventual smut

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

The Babysitter Masterlist

Summary: In need of money and a way to escape the problems at home, you get a job babysitting two lovely boys named Billy and Tommy Maximoff. What happens when you start to feel things you shouldn't for their mother? Will it bloom into love or leave you heartbroken?

A/N- I would just like to say that there will be some sensitive issues in this story such as alcoholism, homophobia, anxiety as well as more mature content such as smut so, if you continue to read this, please consider this warning.

Ongoing. Word Count- 158k

Chapters:

1- Meeting the Maximoffs

2- Cookies and Cuteness

3- Falling Asleep On The Job

4- Parks and Puppies

5- Blame

6- Catching A Liar

7- Taking Care

8- Birthday Wishes

9- Shot In The Back

10- A Moment Of Weakness

11- Kiss Me

12- Like A Date?

13- Let's Go Home

14- You're All I Want

15- I Want To Make You Feel Good.

16- A Way To De-Stress

17- Hesitance

18- I Love You

19- Hopelessly In Love

20- Is Someone Jealous?

21- Together?

22- I've Got You Detka

23- Welcome To The Family

24- The 'Talk'

25- Beach House Shenanigans

26- Best Birthday Ever

27- A New Toy

28- A Moment Together

29- I'm Going To Kill Him

30- Punishments

31- I'm Here

32- The Right Person

33- Talk To Me

34- Family Night

35- All I'll Ever Need

36- Surprise Trip

37- Meet Me In My Office

More Chapters to come :)

#wanda maximoff #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x reader #eventual smut #marvel fanfiction #wanda x you #babysitter au #slow burn #eventual romance #eventual relationship #fluff #angst #angst with a happy ending #soft smut #mommy wanda #rough smut #natahsa romanoff #natasha

[rhenysz]

Your Dead Eyes - Chapter 1

Summary: Lifeless eyes were what haunted your all your life, many people say that death was lurking around your eyes, maybe it's true. Maybe you just see things that other people don't.

Pairing: Azriel x Archeron! reader fem.

A/n: This took longer than expected and isn't even half as long as I would have liked, but I've finally finished the first book and let's get to the real story! Thank you for the positive feedback 🙌🏻 This chapter was more about the sisters' bond, the next ones will be different. I think the Reader has an emotional dependence on Feyre 😥

*English is NOT my native language, this fanfic was translated with the help of an AI, any grammatical errors please let me know*

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Scars, family abandonment, mentioned death.

previous x next

"Do you not think you're exaggerating?" Elain asked you with forced gentleness. The sound of her sipping tea tickled your ears. Dropping your own teacup on the living room's coffee table – causing some splashes to stain the surface – you placed a hand on your chest in mock indignation, perhaps not entirely fake.

"I'd rather be thrown to the wolves than face the conjugal bed, and I must say I'm terrified of those animals." Your lips curled downward, "Men, in this case."

Elain's eyes crinkled at the corners, and the curve of her lips lifted even as she tried to dispel the amusement she felt.

"I understand. But maybe you should consider, I bet Feyre would return in time for your wedding." She spoke with her eyes lowered to the tea.

No, she wouldn't return. You wanted to shout out to Elain. Hardly would that beast willingly let your sister go, that is if she wasn't already in the belly of those faeries.

"I have no interest in getting married, sister. And who in their right mind would be interested in someone with my condition?" Your voice was soft, not a hint of resentment showing in your features.

Having a man in your life was not something you desired. They were rough, lazy, and smelled bad. Not even the twisted relationship Feyre had with that man could make you want one too.

"Maybe... you just haven't looked in the right place," Elain commented. Looked? Have holy patience. You were hardly going to look at anything, let alone a man. Realizing her bluntness, Elain widened her eyes towards you, "I didn't mean it that way, sister, it was just a figure of speech—"

Your laughter cut off Elain's awkward attempt to apologize. Your shoulders shook with the intensity of your laughter. Elain sighed in relief and awkwardly joined in.

Feyre didn't treat you as if you were about to burst into tears.

After that interesting conversation with Elain, Nesta barged into the room, interrupting – rather rudely – to announce that a luxurious carriage was approaching.

You could hear the rustle of Elain's skirts as she tried to beautify herself even more. Despite Nesta feigning an indifferent facade, she was also discreetly arranging her hair.

Laughing to yourself, you wondered how you must look in your supposed light blue dress. A hand grabbed your arm and gently lifted you from the sofa. Nesta, you could tell the difference. Elain had rougher hands from gardening, and Nesta's hands were colder.

"Let's go. Can you manage on your own?" Nesta asked. You appreciated that she allowed you to have your own autonomy. Nodding, you reached for the edge of the sofa where your cane rested and grabbed it.

When you heard the door opening, your head turned towards the sound and you went, dragging the golden tip of the cane across the floor, which hit the furniture warning you to dodge, and slowly going after your sisters – who were walking significantly slower to wait for you.

His cane hit the front door step. Carefully, you placed your foot in front to descend. The breeze made your hair flutter, and it felt so good; the wind kissed your skin like a longing lover.

"Welcome to our home... Lady." You heard Nesta as you finally caught up with your sisters. A brief moment of silence followed, soon to be cut by an extremely familiar laughter

.Your heart raced, and your free hand crumpled the dress you were wearing. Your lifeless eyes turned, trying to find the source of the voice.

"Nesta," she laughed, "doesn't recognize her own sister?" The air was expelled from your lungs, Feyre. A burning sensation started in your eyes, and without you realizing, fat tears streamed down your flushed cheeks. No matter how or where, you would always, always recognize your sister's voice.

The crunching of dried leaves alerted you that someone was approaching, a calm breath was blown on your face. Your trembling lips also parted as you tried to find the right words. Nothing came to mind; it was as if your brain had turned to jelly.

"My snowflake..." Feyre stepped forward, using her fingers to wipe away your tears. She missed you so much while she was with Tamlin. Her chest weighed every time she thought of you, her dearest sister.

Closing your eyes tightly, you let out a sob and threw yourself into Feyre's arms. Discarding the cane without care, your hands reached the back of your sister, pulling her into a tight and emotional embrace.

Feyre staggered under your weight and laughed. She laughed as she nestled in your arms and continued to laugh even as she felt Nesta's eyes drilling holes into her head.

You couldn't physically move away from Feyre while your sisters talked with her. Your hand clung to hers in the hope that if you held on tight enough, she wouldn't leave again.

But not even all the happiness you were feeling could make you ignore Feyre's excuse. Taking care of Aunt Ripleigh? You distinctly remembered that it wasn't Aunt Ripleigh who tore the door off the old cabin.

As expected, Nesta was cautious, hovering over you and Elain as if Feyre would reveal her true intentions at any moment. She declined Elain's invitation to go to the garden, seeing Feyre there made her physically sick, so she withdrew to avoid conflicts in front of her sisters.

You were focused on Feyre and Elain's conversation, desperately wanting her to talk about what happened.

Feyre tensed when Elain casually mentioned – distracted by the flowers – that Nesta visited her at Aunt Ripleigh's. Another lie.

You felt Feyre's breath near your face: "How have you been?"

Fine. You were fine, but not well enough to disguise the suspicion in your expression. Feyre quickly noticed and stepped back slightly.

"Why are you lying to us?" You were direct, no more beating around the bush. You needed answers, and not even Elain's presence would distract you from your goal.

Feyre widened her eyes toward Elain and was relieved to see that she was far enough away not to hear. Biting her lips, she grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward the exit, giving a brief goodbye to Elain, who was so fascinated by the new petunia seedlings that she didn't care.

You were guided through a few doors until you reached a room that Feyre considered safe from curious ears.

You crossed your arms over your chest and impatiently waited for Feyre, who ran her hand through her hair and sighed, not knowing where to start. Then she decided to start with the worst.

"I– I'm in love with the High Lord of Prythian."

If you weren't already blind, you could swear your vision blurred at that moment.

And then Feyre told you, told about how the other side of the wall was breathtaking, told about the peculiar creatures that existed there, told about her frenemy Lucien, and told about how she fell in love with the beast that turned out to be so loving to her.

And to your dismay, she detailed the night of passion she had before being – gently – sent home.

"I didn't need to know that. I have a vivid imagination, and I hate myself for it." You spoke with disgust; Feyre chuckled and approached you, taking your hand and bringing it to her face.

"I haven't told you everything," you murmured for her to continue. Your fingers traced the contours of her face. She looked so different but at the same time so familiar. Perhaps she had become healthy.

"There was a male who threatened Tamlin, he was handsome, maybe the most beautiful male I've ever seen," she commented absentmindedly, "he asked for my name... Clare Beddor."

Clare Beddor, the name weighed on your tongue. Clare, your former neighbor who was killed in such a horrendous way that no one could bear to look for too long, according to your gossip source – Elain.

Feyre had given a false name to the fairy assassin. And you could swear she didn't know what had happened to that poor girl. And perhaps you weren't the most suitable person to tell her about the event; Feyre seemed happy sharing her new experiences. And you? You would allow yourself to be selfish for a moment.

"I understand."

Your sisters and your father went to the seasonal ball, and despite Elain's insistence, that wasn't your place. Your place was anywhere as long as it was far from high society. You certainly didn't fit the standards imposed by them, even though those who looked at you were dazzled.

"A beauty never seen before."

"I would die for features as delicate as yours."

"It's truly a shame…"

Feyre promised to come back early, just like you; she didn't like crowds and pompous people. Feyre promised to come back early.

So you did the only thing that was possible – you waited. Waited while eating, waited while talking to some servants, waited while invading Elain's garden, and waited until you got tired and chose the living room sofa as a great place to rest.

Inevitably, your eyes began to weigh, and before you realized it, sleep completely took you, plunging you into a deep state of peace, unable to hear the hurried steps through the house and the slam of the door closing.

Feyre promised to come back early.

Feyre hated goodbyes.

Perhaps, just perhaps, you should have already imagined that this would happen. Feyre was in love with the beast, and people in love tend to do foolish things.

That didn't ease the chest pain you felt when the next morning you were informed that she had returned to the fae lands in search of her High Lord. The feelings of betrayal and sadness walked hand in hand.

At the same time, you couldn't find the strength to harbor resentment towards her. Why would you? For the first time in her life, your sister was dedicating herself to something that truly made her happy. It didn't matter if she was leaving her family behind, right? No, that mattered to you.

Nesta hated dealing with your whirlwind of emotions; she hated that you depended on someone to be happy, and she made it clear when you woke up.

"Feyre is not responsible for what you feel. You are allowing yourself to stay in this state. Stop depending on her to live."

Despite being harsh, Nesta was spot-on with her words. Feyre was finally living her dream life; it was time for you to start living yours too, without anyone dictating how you should feel.

And thinking about this led you to where you were now, with your hands covered in clay – and probably not just your hands – trying to give some shape to that earthy mass on the spinning table in the studio.

Your mind wandered through all the possibilities of sculpture. Sculpting things your fingers had memorized or even inventing new forms to call conceptual. It would be ironic if your sculptures became famous.

Humming to yourself, your fingers gently moved over the clay's edges, shaping a small sphere; you pulled five points out and rounded the edges.

"They look like fingers." Merina's voice made you jump on the stool; Merina was one of the maids you had become close to, she had such a calm and gentle voice that, if you let her, could lull you to sleep.

"Well, I hope so. I'd be very upset if they looked like something else." You laughed, still molding your supposed fingers. Merina dragged a stool to join you, after, of course, looking down the hall to make sure no one was approaching.

She looked amazed at your hands giving life to the clay. Inevitably, her mind wandered, how? How were you capable? Feeling where your mind wandered, you chuckled softly and tilted your head in a silent invitation. Merina cleared her throat and asked:

"Why a hand?"

You subtly widened your eyes; that certainly wasn't the question you were expecting. A hum came from your throat before you answered Merina.

"It's with my hands that I see; they are my eyes to the world," you replied, licking your lips as you pondered, "I don't know how I manage it; I fear there's no logical explanation for it."

Merina didn't say anything, just grunted in response. Extending your hand, you searched the table until you found a small knife; bringing it close to the sculpture, you began making small fillets with it all along the hand's length.

Merina turned to you curiously, not understanding why you were deforming the piece. She gently nudged you with a – painfully pointed – question.

"Hmm, I've been thinking about it lately, hands with scars," you made one final cut and dropped the knife. Merina reached for an old cloth to help you clean your hands, "thank you. What would it be like to see with these hands? Would the texture of things be different? Or would the sensitivity be greater?" You rambled to her.

There were so many questions to consider, and in your opinion, you could already be considered a hands expert. That made you laugh.

Merina took the cloth from your hands and brought it toward your face, cleaning some clay splatters that had strayed there.

"I hope you don't have the answers on your own. It must be a horrible pain to have your hands torn apart." She commented, lowering the cloth.

A horrible pain? Makes sense. Whoever has hands like that must have a melancholic story behind them.

"You're right."

As promised, you lived your life the best way possible, and sculptures paved the way to your heart. Over time, your clay skills became refined, even daring to sculpt the features of your sisters; Nesta was your biggest supporter, even if she didn't admit it, there wasn't a day she didn't pass by to make sure your stock was full.

Each sister had their own shelf containing everything you thought resembled them. Elain had sculpted flowers and cakes, Nesta had books and red jewels, and Feyre had an arrow – just a sculpture, but it was the one you dedicated the most time to, whether smoothing the edges or trying to paint in the right places.

Because even though Feyre was a million miles away, you would love her all the way, and even if she never came back, you would find your way to her through the heart.

You wouldn't wait for her, but you wouldn't forget everything you had been through together.

And you might not even believe she would come back, but that tingling you felt in your fingers when you heard a knock on the door made you doubt your mental state.

It may be that besides being blind, you're also becoming deaf because hearing your sister's name from Elain's lips after so long is not a sign of good auditory nostalgia.

"Feyre?"

TAGLIST:

@dearestdaffodils @going-through-shit

@valeridarkness @wallacewillow0773638

@harrystylesfan2686 @carnationworld

@applerubyy @saltedcoffeescotch

@esposadomd @justdreamstars

@microwaveallthedemons

#~rhenysz #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #slow burn #eventual smut #eventual romance #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #elain archeron

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: provocative dancing, slight Sam x Reader, jealous Dean

Chapter Word Count: 4211

—-MDNI—-

A/N: So I had to post this chapter in 2 parts because of how long it was and the formatting was weird otherwise. So here we are, and 2 part chapter! But yeah same as always pls let me know of any errors as I am the only one who proof reads this shit.

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Please read the below first:

Prologue Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 8 pt. 1

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 8 - Part 2

Charlie eventually left after a few hours of convincing Sam and Dean that I would be absolutely fine infiltrating the club without them. At least at first. Some negotiations took place and after a while we all came to an agreement - I’d go in, scope the place out and unlock every door before leaving and letting the boys take over, handing over the intel on who everyone was and where they were stationed. This would make the kills less messy and reduce civilian casualties. Once this decision was made, we ate dinner before the guys went back upstairs to get as much information on the strip club as possible, whilst I went to finish the laundry from earlier.

I’d dropped Sam’s clothes off in his room before I headed Deans room to deposit his. Upon arriving, I twisted the handle and let myself in, breathing in the intoxicating scent of him before placing the neat stacks of clothing on his bed. Patting the top on the piles to ensure they wouldn’t topple over, I was turning to leave when something caught my eye. It was a pile of napkins and receipts crumpled up and tossed in the bin by the door - the same ones that made me feel so deflated earlier today. I smiled, feeling some semblance of relief course through me as I made my way upstairs again. As I walked I pondered; the Winchesters unknowing of the fact that I’d spent a short amount of time taking exotic dance classes. My ex boyfriend had paid for them so I could give him a ‘private show’ in cheap lingerie, and not to toot my own horn but I was pretty good at what I did back then so this should be a breeze. The only thing was that now I had a point to prove, and boy was I going to prove it.

I strode into the room where the boys were - Deans head in his hands and Sam’s face pressed to the inside of a book that was open on the table. He could have been asleep, if it wasn't for the fact that his eyes opened when I walked in. Without saying a word I grabbed an empty chair and set it in the middle of the room away from the desks and bookcases, making both men flinch at the abruptness.

“What are you doing?” Dean quizzed, lifting his head from his hands.

“Proving to you that I’m perfect for this case.”

Dean raised an eyebrow and I was unsure if he was catching on. I grabbed his phone from the table, unlocking it and finding the perfect song to play, settling on ‘Apocalyptic’ by Halestorm. At the start of the music he seemed to realise what was going on and he sat up eagerly, watching me intently as I undid my hair from its ponytail. I ruffled it up close to the roots, putting some volume in there as he went to stand up. I placed my fingertips on his chest and pushed gently, making him sit back down in his chair. I shook my head.

“Not you.”

He looked at me, puzzled; however his jaw dropped when I took Sam’s hand and urged him to stand. Sam had been paying minimal attention and just about knew what was going on when I gently pushed on his toned stomach, moving him backwards towards the chair in the middle of the room. I felt my heart do a small flip at the sheer size of the younger Winchester, this being my first time standing so close to him. And he smelt softer than Dean - less leather and gunpowder and more mint and fresh linens. I looked up at Sam through my lashes, watching his chest rise and fall more rapidly than before as he scanned my face. I smiled.

“Just relax, Sam. I Promise I don’t bite - at least not unless you want me to,” as the words left my lips I heard a SNAP and looked over at Dean, who’d now crushed the pencil he was using into splinters. I couldn’t help but smirk, starting to enjoy this perhaps a little more than I should. I pushed on Sam’s hips, urging him to sit, now in perfect view of his older brother. I stood in between Sam’s thighs and looked down at him, watching how his big eyes followed my hands as I slid them down over his shoulders and chest before running them back up again, tracing a single finger up over his Adam’s apple and tilting his chin up to look at me. The moment his eyes met mine his lips parted slightly and I leaned in close, so close that I could almost taste him. He let out the quietest groan and I whispered over his lips:

“I’ll try to make this enjoyable.”

I was bending over slightly, feeling my already very short skirt ride up. I sashayed around Sam, swaying my hips to the music and trailing my hands over his body with feather-light touches. Every time I did I felt him tense up or let out a small noise, especially when I crouched down behind the chair and slid myself underneath it, appearing between his legs and pushing myself up, my own legs straight and spread wide as I leant forwards. I now faced Dean, making eye contact with him as he watched me slide my hands up Sam’s thighs as I perched myself in his lap, swaying my hips as I pressed into him. I heard him suck in a breath at the contact, his manhood twitching in his jeans beneath the softness of my ass. I brought my knees and ankles together in a ladylike fashion before spreading them wide again, my legs pressing hard into the inside of Sam’s thighs. Deans knuckles went white as I ran my hands over my body and through my hair, biting my bottom lip sensually. Feeling Sam’s hands graze my knees, they slowly started to trail up my thighs as he snuck touches in where he could. My heart fluttered in my chest - his hands were already treating me far more gently than Deans did. I let him touch me for a few moments before I smacked his hands away and stood up. Spinning to face him I flipped my hair back, and slowly - oh so slowly - traced my hands down my own figure. As I outlined every curve I lowered myself so I was kneeling right before him - right between his legs that were spread wide like my own as my bare knees rested on the cold floor. I ghosted my hands up the inside of his thighs as he let out a shaky breath. I smiled up at him, but it seemed he was past the niceties as I noticed how dark his eyes had gone. I drew my hands back and spun around so I was now facing Dean whilst still nestled between Sam’s thighs. The older brother had pulled his chair out for a better view as his elbows rested on his knees as his large palms came together - as though in prayer - in front of his plump, kissable lips. He stared at me, unmoving and barely blinking, as though he were in a trance. Still on my knees, I threw Dean a coy grin before I placed my hands on the floor and walked them forwards, my ass now completely on show to Sam as my denim skirt did nothing to keep me covered. My back dipped in a feline manner as my chest came into contact with the floor, and I couldn’t help but think to myself that I would put money down that Dean loves this position for rough, pleasure-seeking sex. I hummed to myself at the thought of him fucking me into his mattress like this; one large, rough hand on my hip and the other propping himself up over me as he would moan my name and I would lose myself in his bedsheets.

I tore myself away from my daydream by sliding my hands forward so I was laying on my front before rolling onto my back, tilting my head back so I was looking at Dean upside down, my hair pooling around me. I gnawed on my bottom lip again as I planted both feet on the floor so my knees were bent and touching, before lifting one leg as gracefully as I could into the air and pointing my toes. Reaching my arms up, I gently touched my ankle and trailed my fingers over my leg, up my thigh - catching on my skirt and lifting it higher - along the soft skin of my exposed torso and over my breasts. I then dragged my fingers through my hair and over my scalp, my outstretched arms lifting my tank top a little - flashing Sam some braless underboob. I heard him moan and shuffle in his chair, however my eyes were still locked with Deans, and I watched as the older brother leant back and spread his legs a little wider, adjusting himself in his jeans as he laced his fingers together over his abdomen. Without missing a beat, I flipped myself back over onto my stomach and played the previous motions in reverse - sliding upwards so I was on all fours and then back to being just on my knees. I turned so I was facing Sam again, grinning at his hooded eyes and slack jaw as I placed my hands on his knees and pushed myself up to standing. I stepped around him slowly, my hands running down his broad shoulders as I moved to stand behind him. I leant down and whispered into his ear, his head dipping to the side slightly as my breath fanned out over his hot skin:

“Admit it, I’m perfect for the case.”

I watched his eyes flutter closed as he replied in a breathy voice.

“Yes… you’re perfect…” he paused, like he’d forgotten to finish his sentence, “…perfect for the case, I mean.”

I smiled as I stood up straight, catching Deans piercing gaze again.

“I’m going to bed - it’s been a long day. You boys should too,” my voice came out perhaps a little more sultry than I expected.

They both nodded, humming in response as I turned away, walking to my bedroom and leaving behind me at least one testosterone-field time bomb.

I’ll probably regret that whole ordeal in the morning

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Taglist: @justjensenandhisalteregos @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @lanassmarty @aliceeinwonderland420 @tina-theslytherin @deans-queen @hell0-ki11y111 @hobby27 @lilcuutiee @sobearcowboy @girls-alias @selfdestructionandrhum @ericasabe @lacilou @littlemadamred @viridiesa @anneanirac @deans-baby-momma @swimregulas @ashdoctor @littlemarvelstan8 @atcamillanorrman @deangirl96 @zannemes @kr804573 @foxyjwls007 @divadinag @ilikw @cookiemonstermusic258 @mysterialee @vsplanet @ababy-girl @joonseuph0ria @mxltifxnd0m @deans-spinster-witch @st4bl3-ch40s @raven-red10 @feyresqueen @lori69 @roseblue373 @clusterfuck-meup @urinternetmom @rachiem4-blog @ceeshellecee @qinnroki @winchestergirl82 @mojos-hidden-castle @snowayumi @evzyi @mymuseisbipolar @magssteenkamp @koharuheartfilia @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @lazygrungekid

Some of the tags haven’t worked so please check your settings if your name is highlighted!

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Up Next:

Chapter 9

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x female!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x you smut #eventual smut #supernatural smut #slow burn #supernatural #spn #dean winchester enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers #smut

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Tumblr Master List

Yearling: noun - A young horse, older than a foal but not yet two years old. - A still wild thing that is too new to tame

After years of surviving in the wilds of Wyoming after the cordyceps outbreak, you find yourself in Jackson. It's a town filled with friendly faces and the kind of world you hardly remember, let alone can connect with or understand. But one man - Joel Miller, another loner, like you - makes you think that trying to find your place in society again might be worth it.

On A03 | Spotify Playlist

WARNING: this fic does have plot overlap with TLOU2. It’s not a retelling of the game but if you want to go into season 2 spoiler free, approach with caution.

Chapter 1 - Break

Chapter 2 - Escape

Chapter 3 - Noise

Chapter 4 - Contribution

Chapter 5 - Movement

Chapter 6 - Shoot

Chapter 7 - Revival

Chapter 8 - Tipsy

Chapter 9 - Hold

Chapter 10 - Feral

Chapter 11 - Touch

Chapter 12 - Animals

Chapter 13 - Falling

Chapter 14 - Time

Chapter 15 - Past

Chapter 16 - Firsts

Chapter 17 - Stay

Chapter 18 - Reverse

Chapter 19 - Purpose

Chapter 20 - Healing

Chapter 21 - Holiday

Chapter 22 - Storm

Chapter 23 - Search

Chapter 24 - Return

Chapter 25 - Balance

Chapter 26 - Carved

Chapter 27 - Found

Chapter 28 - Newcomer

Chapter 29 - Together

Chapter 30 - Blood

Chapter 31 - Warmth

Chapter 32 - Promises

Chapter 33 - Discovery

Chapter 34 - Anything

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass @planet-marz1 @kalea-bane @juneswonderlust @ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost @beccerjune @mumma-moonchild @netonetoneto @mellymbee @purplelye @n7cje @flugazi @evyiione @randomhoex @aliengirl99 @orcasoul @reds-ramblings @pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel @jenispunk @panda-pascal @sarap-77 @flugazi @your-slutty-gf @daniegraceg @partyofone3413 @cumberpegg @noisynightmarepoetry. @fifia-writes @grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123 @ashleyfilm @arizonadreamingg

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #smut fic #slow burn #friends to lovers #hbo the last of us #joel miller x oc #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader smut #eventual smut #eventual romance #angst #hurt/comfort #tlou2 spoilers

[abouttofillhisshoes]

What time you coming out? - M.H x Reader // pt.1

A/N: Lenas writer debut??? Omg??? This has a bunch of references to fics like the cellophane house (written by the lovely @vinylandcoffeecollection, srsly check out their work!). It's a bit angsty? Not really but angst will come this is a chaptered fic. Based off fallingforyou, hence the title. Thank you @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff for beta reading and putting up with me xx

wc: 11k

part two

February, 2008

“I'm not sure we should be doing this, neither of us is a professional hairdresser in any capacity” 

Mötley Crüe’s ‘Public Enemy #1’ blares through the small speaker set on top of the toilet lid, the music reverberating off the bathroom's tiled walls. Matty attempts to brush the bleach onto your hair, narrowly missing your eyebrow for what felt like the sixth time. You'd prefer to not come out of this situation looking like 90s madonna if you could help it. 

“Could you maybe not get the stuff on my face? I'm not sure I'd look as amazing as I do with bleached brows,” you say, flicking Mattys hand away from your hair, straightening your posture on top of the sink. Your elbow accidently knocks into the faucet and you curse out loud. 

“You're right love, you'd look well hideous without brows” Matty retorts, laughing in your face. He's right, doesn't mean he has to say it.

“At least I have any sort of eyebrows, I'd get yours filled in if I was you.” Now it's your turn to laugh at him, his jaw hitting the floor at your comment. He clutches his chest with his hand, bending over for dramatic effect as if to say: “You wound me”. You fall into each other's arms, fighting over the ipod once again.

The song changes, and Matty resumes his attempts at bleaching your hair properly, failing once again. It had been a stupid, stoned impulse decision to buy the bleach at all. The local drugstore sold it for cheap, and you had some pocket change on you. Matty wanted you to buy the red dye, and you dismissed him immediately, because even he knew you'd look absolutely terrible as a redhead. 

You hum along softly to David Bowie's “Suffragette City”. Bowie was your Idol. The song reminds you of him. Of Matty. It reminds you of when you first met.

—------------------------------------------------------

You were 15, pacing the street late at night, your boyfriend was blowing up your phone. Insincere apologies and “i love you”’s filled your screen. 4 missed calls. Tears were streaming down your face, making you not quite able to see straight. 

The song playing, was blaring in your headphones, almost deafening. The song didn't fit at all to your current situation, but that didn't bother you.

It wasn't long before you reached a bus stop, sitting down. You didn't even know where you were. 

Suddenly, like it was out of your control, you let out broken sobs, no longer silently crying. How fucking embarrassing.

You're not sure how long you’d been sitting there, in the dark, shivering in the cruel November weather. 

You hadn't even noticed the person walking up to you. 

He’d positioned himself in front of you, twisting his neck to get a look underneath your hood.

“You alright?” his voice sounded soft, concerned even. Through muffled sobs, you managed to look up at him. 

He had a thick, fluffy jacket on. Oddly feminine for bloke, and you were pretty sure it was a women's coat. It basically swallowed him whole. You almost laughed at the sight. It almost made you forget about the night's events. 

You’d had yet another fight with your boyfriend, Phillip. The two of you fought a lot, but never like this. Sure, he’d said some hurtful things, things you maybe shouldn't have forgiven as quickly as you did, but he had never, ever, gotten violent with you. Until tonight.

You'd barely registered it when it happened, your brain not properly processing his actions. In the midst of his screaming, he raised his hand. Raised. his. hand. 

It came down with a crash against your left cheek, the sound echoing through the house. Because he did, in fact, have his own flat. Because 24 year olds usually have that. 

Everything hit you at once. You'd managed to pick yourself up off the ground at a speed which would have given even world record holders a run for their money. You didn't bother grabbing anything else, you just needed to get out, now. 

You could faintly hear his voice calling out from behind you, begging you to please, please come back. And what? Let him put his hands on you again? No way. A rare moment of clarity.

Fucking cunt 

You’re brought back to reality by the sound of the stranger's voice. 

“I’m Matty.” he offered his hand, and you shook it. “What're you doing out here in the cold? Its fuckin’ freezing.” He's right, it was cold. It hadn't occurred to you to take your coat with you.

You stuttered out a pathetic response of your name, barely making eye contact with him. A few beats pass before Matty starts ruffling around in his coat pockets. Raising your eyebrows, you watch him.

You can hear the faint sound of keys in his right pocket, and it's not long before he pulls out a joint from his left. It looks crumpled and old, like it had been there for a while. 

“Spliff? It looks like you need it more than me.” He chuckles, and it somehow makes you feel better. He makes a move to sit next to you, and you twitch slightly when his shoulder touches yours. The bench is quite narrow, so you know it's not on purpose. It doesn't bother you quite as much as it should, given he is a stranger. 

He takes out his lighter. It looks old and used, the black plastic chipping off around the top. It looks like it's a miracle it even works. You can see white writing along the side of it. M.H. Initials? His initials? Matty H something.  

He starts burning the tip. Rotating the joint to get an even burn, you watch his movements closely, taking in some of his features. 

His hair was curly but frizzy, you could tell he didn't pay it much mind. His features seemed soft, almost feminine. He was clean shaven, his pale skin a stark contrast to the dark brown of his hair. 

Matty lets you take the first drag, stating “The first hit’s the best, and I've always been a gentleman”, flashing a grin your way. That made you laugh. You take a drag, letting the warm feeling spread through your body.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked timidly, his voice lowering. 

“Absolutely not.” You mutter, looking him straight in the eyes for what seems like the first time that night. A smile.  

—-------------------------------------------------------

“D’you think I'd look good as a blonde? I feel like I'd smash it,” Matty says, inspecting his hair in the mirror behind you. He has gorgeous locks, and you're constantly telling him to try and take care of them, he just doesn't listen. You study his features before giving him an answer.

“Maybe. Either that or you'd look like a bad hooker,” Matty gasps, shoving your shoulder in protest. The movement  makes your elbow bang against the faucet again, but you ignore the pain this time 

“I'll let you know i'd make an amazing hooker, thanks very much,” He proclaims quite loudly, making the both of you burst into a laughing fit. 

You take the brush from Matty, twirling in your hand. George had taught you how to do that. An idea pops into your head. 

“We could give you a few blonde highlights, just to try it out. There's no need for you to go full Elle Woods immediately” A giggle escapes your lips, picturing Matty with long, blonde hair. That’d be a sight. 

“Let's do it, right now,” he breathes, visibly excited.

“Really? Adam’d take the absolute piss out of you, you know.” Matty rolls his eyes obnoxiously before he speaks. “Well then let Adam hold on to his toxic ideas of masculinity, I need a change.” This piques your interest. Matty? Need a change? Weird. 

“What, did some bird break your heart this time? That's new, even for you Matthew,”

You can see him visibly cringe at your use of his full name. You know he hates it, and that is exactly why you do it. Getting a rise out of him is your favorite pastime. 

“Switch with me then,” you say, and he obliges, letting you hop off the counter. You mix up a new batch of bleach and part off his hair into small sections. Little pink hair bands hold his curls in place. You shoot him a look and he nods, giving you the go-ahead. The bleach goes on smoothly, your practiced hand much less prone to mistakes than Mattys.

It doesn't take long before you're both sitting on your bed with foils in your hair. You manage to snap a picture of Matty on your polaroid camera. The light reflects off the foils, distorting the picture slightly. Matty demands to see it, but you decide to keep it for yourself. Can't get everything you want.  

It's Mattys' turn on the music. 

You've decided on a turn system for music when you're together, to avoid the gnarly fights you used to have over who gets to control the ipod.

He picks the latest Deftones album. It's not really your taste, and you tell him as much. 

“S’not my fault your music taste consists of pop trash. Get well soon”, now it's your turn to shove him, and he almost falls off the bed. Your fights over music happened frequently. He insisted on listening to real music, while you couldn't care less if it sounded good. 

The timer dings and you both get up to wash your hair in the sink. Water splashes everywhere, absolutely soaking the bathroom. You don't care. It's just water. 

Towels litter the bathroom floor, soaking up the mess. Matty helps you dry your hair after you promise to help with his. The warm air feels nice on your neck. 

“I like it, it makes me look camp,” Matty states, admiring himself in the mirror. Of course he'd say something like that. 

“You look great, now get dressed, I've messaged Hann. He's picking us up at half 11” 

Adam was one of your best mates, and the only one who had a car. You and Matty were still in school, along with George, another one of your friends. Adam and Ross shared a flat on the outskirts of the city. Adam's mother had gifted him a car for his 18th birthday last year. A bright red Kia. Bumper stickers littered the back, your favorite reading ‘Vehicle of legends” 

Matty had borrowed one of your tops, specifically, a mesh top you'd gotten from Hollister a few weeks prior. It was adorned with a black tank top underneath, paired with the black skinny jeans you're convinced have fused with his legs at this point. 

His hair had dried, dark curls now in contrast with blonde streaks. They framed his face. He looked good. 

You’d gone for a more colorful ensemble, opting for baggy jeans instead of skinny ones. The bottom had already been well ripped up from years of dragging them on the ground. You paired said jeans with a wine-red off the shoulder jumper, the black strap of your bralette peaking out. You’d always loved that color. It reminded you of your favorite flowers, red roses.

The window closed softly, and you silently thanked God you lived on the first floor. Adam was already parked down the road from your house, impatiently waiting for the two of you. The radio was playing as you got in. Matty immediately started going on about how pop music has ruined the music scene and how it was all 'soulless, meaningless droning' and 'had no feeling anymore'. He always did this, and you'd learned to tune it out by then. 

The drive was short, and you arrived at your destination not long after you’d set off. The air smelled like water and wet pavement. It had been pissing down earlier in the day.  

‘The spot’ was an abandoned paper factory, affectionately renamed “Caroline's house” for any eavesdropping parents.  

Carolines had been abandoned for well over 5 years before you started hanging out there, not many knew about it.

The three of you had already made your way through the back entrance. The front had been blocked off years ago, a futile attempt at keeping kids out. There was one specific room you always went to, and that was the office. It had a huge terrace with an amazing view of the city below. The glowing lights made you feel small and irrelevant in the vastness of the world. 

The night was bright under the full moon, making it easy to see outside. Adam always brought an emergency flashlight with him when you went to Carolines. He was the voice of reason in the midst of the chaos. The responsible one. He always made sure everyone got home safe, talked your way out of situations with coppers on multiple occasions, and knew when to tell the bartender to switch drinks to water or juice. You’d always thank him the morning after. 

“What even is your shirt, mate,” Adam asked with a grin on his face. He loved to take the piss out of Matty for his camp-ness. No harm no foul, Matty would do the exact same to him when the opportunity presented itself. Eyeing him up and down, he shook his head and went back to picking at his nails.   

“She let me borrow it for tonight. Looks good, yeah?” Matty shoots back. 

“Yeah sure, that and those white streaks in your hair make you look like a proper girl, you know” 

You have to laugh at his statement, because it does ring true. From a certain distance, anyone could mistake Matty for a woman. 

“You wish I was a girl, it’d make you feel less guilty about your sex fantasies, innit?” Matty cackles at his own words. Adam chucks a lighter at him, and misses. It instead bounces off the railing of the terrace and clatters down onto the ground somewhere behind you. 

That was your cue to take out the small baggy from the pocket of your jeans. Going to look for the lighter Adam had just thrown, you turn around to see he’d already snatched your papes and weed, and started to roll a spliff. 

“Oh come on, I look away for a second and you steal my weed. What, are you too broke to buy your own?” You huffed, sitting down on the floor next to him. 

“Girls don't roll their own spliffs. You should know that by now, love” he said with a wink. 

Cue eye roll. 

“Oh thank you so much, what would I ever do without you, Hann? Fuck off.” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. This was never a display of chivalry, it was simply Adams' way of trying to get under your skin. Your stubborn self wouldn't let him, of course. Flashing him an award winning smile, you lay back on your elbows and eye him as he rolls your joint for you. 

Matty was preoccupied with gathering enough cardboard so he could sit on the floor comfortably. The three of you couldn't be arsed bringing in furniture from the office, so you were left with the cold, unforgiving concrete floor of the terrace to sit on. 

The minutes ticked by and Adam took his sweet time, presenting the spliff with a look of pride. You reach for it, seeing as you already had the lighter in your hand. Instead of handing it to you. Adam shakes his head. 

“Girls dont light their own spliffs, either” You scoff at that, though deciding against smacking him upside the head. You hand him the lighter.  

Mattys giggles can be faintly heard over your bickering, and Adam finally lights up. The distinct earthy smell fills up the air around you. They both let you have the first drag, stating something along the lines of “Ladies first” another eye roll.  

“Fucking wankers”, you mutter under your breath, and finally, you inhale. It hits you almost immediately, a soft, fuzzy feeling that reverberates through your veins into every inch of your body. The two of them let out a laugh at your expression, utterly euphoric. 

Adam takes the next drag, hitting him just as hard as it did you. He leans against the glass sliding door, letting his eyes droop closed. 

“Fucking hell, this is some strong weed.” He lets out a rough cough, “Where’d you even get it from?” 

“Oh y’know, just some guy. Same as always I s’pose,” 

Matty spoke “What, d’you shag him or something? No one just gives out this type of premium stuff on a whim,” 

This makes you chuck the grinder at him. It hits him square in the chest. You hum contentedly, grinning at him in amusement when he doubles over in pain. You bicker back and forth, calling each other names. Adam passes the spliff back to you, and you take another hit. 

Time passes slowly. The clouds slowly reveal more and more of the full moon. It is quite beautiful tonight, you notice. 

Adam produces a bottle of tequila from his ‘gay-ass tote bag’ as Ross calls it. You take turns taking swigs straight from the bottle, Matty managing to spill some onto his mesh top, making quite literally everything reek of alcohol.

You felt good. The high mixed with the healthy amount of tequila made you feel like you were floating. You could tell Matty was just as hammered as you, seeing as he was now straddling Adams lap, trying to kiss him. 

After multiple attempts at getting him off, Matty stood up on his own, stating that he didn't want Hann to pop a boner au cause de his womanly features.   

The three of you laugh and laugh until you finish the spliff. You’d never had a good tolerance for anything, whether it be weed or alcohol. You weren't particularly small, it just always hit you way harder than Adam or Ross. Even Matty managed to pull himself together when the situation called for it. You, however, were stumbling and tripping over your feet the entire walk home. It had been pissing down the entire morning. Puddles littered the streets, not an ideal weather for someone who was too wasted to even have any sort of depth perception.  

Adam had to leave suddenly, picking up a last minute shift at the shop he worked at. It was in the opposite direction of where you came from, leaving you and Matty to walk home. 

It wasn't a long walk, 30 odd minutes or so. It was made significantly longer by your inability to walk in a straight line to save your life. Echoing laughs filled the streets as Matty helped you trudge along. Your pants dragged on the floor as usual, which meant they were also dragging through the numerous puddles, soaking them. 

You stop suddenly, looking down and pouting at the darkened material of your pants. For some inexplicable reason, this made you stomp your feet like a child. Matty broke out in uncontrollable laughter, tears forming in his eyes. You were actually acting like a child.

“I don't know why you insist on wearing those insanely baggy pants. Look at me! My pants don't get wet AND my ass looks phenomenal in skinny jeans” He twirls around you, making you feel slightly dizzy.

“Oh fuck off!! Not everyone is an attention slag like you, have some decency for once in your life!” You retort, shoving him out of your line of sight. Due to your state, Matty quickly catches up to you. 

The steps of your house come quicker than expected. Both of you make your way to the east side of the first floor, where your bedroom window remains slightly ajar. You'd wedged an old shirt between it to keep it from closing all the way. You'd gotten sneaking out down to an art, always knowing when, where and how. Your mother had caught you once. It was your first time. You knew not to make those same mistakes again.

Matty helped you hop onto the windows ledge, his hands grabbing at your sides. While he looked frail, Matty was actually quite strong, lifting you up without breaking a sweat. 

You're sitting on the edge, slightly taller than him now. Peering down, you reach your arms out. The two of you hugged tightly, whispering quiet “goodnight”s and “sleep well”s. Saying goodbye after a night out often felt strangely melancholic, you never wanted the other to leave. 

You've been attached at the hip since that night. He’d convinced you to break up with Phillip, stating he was a bastard who shouldn't be allowed near women ever again.

Matty went on to introduce you to his mates after you’d found out you went to the same highschool. That was nearly 3 years ago now. 

Late nights often make you wonder what would have happened if you hadn't gone to that specific bus stop and met Matty. If he had ignored your crying instead of offering you weed and sitting down next to you. He’d always been charming, like a magnet, he attracted everyone around him. Sure, he was a bit pretentious at times, but everyone has their faults. 

You roll over and try to sleep, slowly coming down from your high. You made a mental note to take it easy next time, maybe pace yourself. It was hard to know your limits when it came to substances, and Matty was the same way. Adam was the ever responsible one, never too drunk or high, always the parent. You were grateful for him, knowing what situations you'd be stuck in if Adam had not been there to smooth things over. 

The tiredness hits you in waves. Glancing at the clock left of your desk, it read 3:26 am. Fuck. You try to ignore the fact that you had to be up in about 4 hours. You close your eyes, welcoming the rest. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

A harsh knocking sounded from the direction of your window, scaring the shit out of you. You bolt up, pissed at the disturbance. Turning to face the window, and are met with a familiar grin. Matty. 

It takes all of 5 seconds of him being in your room before you start cursing at him for waking you up like that. He simply shrugs his shoulders and sits in his designated chair. A maroon sofa chair in the corner in front of your bed. It even has M.H carved into the wood, because Matty had some sort of fetish for carving his initials into things. A sign of ownership? It made you wonder. 

Shuffling around the room, you kick your still wet jeans off into the corner, instead picking up a denim skirt. You’d wanted to wear that same red top to school, but seeing as you had fallen asleep wearing it, you chucked it into the same corner as the pants. 

A pink baby tee caught your eye from the chair Matty was sitting in. You silently point at it and he passes it to you. This isn't the first time you've changed in front of him. It didn't happen often, but what was the point of kicking him out? It's not like he was actively staring anyway.

After quickly changing, you go to put on some makeup. Makeup made you feel pretty, pretty enough to go outside. The only person who sees your bare face regularly is Matty. Maybe George. You didn't go anywhere without it.

You can feel Matty looking at you from the corner of your eye. Raising your eyebrows at him, you ask him what he's staring at. 

“D’you reckon i can try some of that?” he gestures vaguely at the eyeshadow brush in your hand “I think i’d look class with my new highlights.” he twirls his hair around his finger, giving you a look.

You look at him skeptically, before breaking out into a smile. Matty smiles back. It's not long before he’s sat in front of you, wincing whenever the brush makes contact with his eyelid. You tell him hes just not used to it, and to just stay still, for fucks sake. 

Once you're done, you take a step back to admire your work. You have to admit, he looks good. Really good. His eyes were lined with a dark purple shadow, making them appear slightly bigger. He takes his fingers, slightly smudging the out corners, giving him a catty look. 

“I think you might even look even better than me,” you say, looking him up and down. This is one of those rare moments where you can't read Mattys' expression at all. Finally, he opens his mouth

“No one could look better than you, trust me,”  

A beat of silence before he speaks again

“I do look ravishing though, d’you reckon Adam'll like this more than the highlights?” He always manages to make himself laugh. Then in typical Matty fashion, he pulls out a beat up looking joint from the pocket of his too tight jeans. 

“Fancy a spliff?” 

“Matty, for christ's sake, we have school in about an hour, and you want to smoke now?” 

“It's the only true way to get through Mr. Henderson's maths class, you know it'll be unbearable if we don't.” translation: please smoke with me. He gives you a look, because you know he's right. 

It was too late to protest. He’d already made his way to open your window, knowing how much you hate stinking up your room.

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips, and you find your place next to him. 

The wind and rain had calmed down, so Matty had no difficulty lighting it. The smell filled your senses, almost overwhelming you. You were thankful for the fresh air.

He placed the spliff between your lips, watching you intently as you inhaled. Your orange lip gloss had rubbed off the filter, and transferred onto his lips. The weed wasnt as strong as last nights, but still, the sight of Mattys glossed lips made you break out into a fit of giggles. Time seemed irrelevant up until the point you had to run to catch your bus. Sweaty and out of breath, you sat down in your usual spot. 

You can hear comments and insults being thrown at Matty from the back of the bus, but neither of you paid much mind. Matty was high as a kite, and too loopy (hungover) from the previous night to offer up one of his witty retorts. Instead, both of you gave them the bird from over the seat.

Matty was leaning against you, his arms hooked into yours. Neither of you spoke, listening to the soft rumbling of the bus. You stank of weed, anyone could smell it on you. Remembering a perfume bottle in your handbag, you take it out and douse yourself, as well as Matty in it. 

“Oh for fucks sake, now everything smells like Jimmy Choo Illicit!” Matty whined, burying his head in his hands. “Couldn't you have picked a manlier perfume? I'm already walking a very thin line with all of this” He vaguely gestures to himself. 

“Would you rather get kicked out after coming to school smelling like a fucking dispensary? Think ahead, Matthew!” He cringes visibly

“No need to get out the full government name, jesus” he shuffles up against you, and you can see his eyes are a light shade of red. There's no way the two of you would get through first lesson unnoticed. 

George was already waiting for you guys at your stop. Greeting him with a hug, you try to avoid eye contact, yet somehow, he knows. 

“Hey, you alright-?” He cranes his neck to get a better look at your face 

“Are you–? Are you high??” He laughs out loud, smacking your arm to stabilize himself. You shoot him a death stare, but you can feel a laugh coming too. Matty let out a sarcastic haha before kicking George as a way to say get on with it, we have class.

The walk to the room through the sea of people in the halls feels like a claustrophobic hell. B.O ridden teenagers rub up against the three of you, some even (quite violently) shoving past. 

It's a miracle you make it without Matty losing his mind at one of the hecklers. School was actual hell for Matty, and by proxy, you. Insults were thrown at him without a second thought, and the makeup he’d adorned today surely didn't help the comments.

He never let it truly get to him. He didn't care, and that's what you loved so much about him. This part of the city was set back about fifteen years in terms of acceptance and progressivity, so his flowery backpack and femininity wasn't exactly welcomed.

Adam had always taken the piss out of him for his outfits since they were boys, but he never, ever meant it seriously. They were like brothers, those two, and no amount of shit from other people (irrelevants, as Matty would put it) would be able to break them apart. 

The way the room was set up, there were six tables of four, with two people always facing another two. You had sat in the seat next to George, with Matty sitting (well, more like laying) across the other two chairs opposite you. Mr. Henderson had given up on trying to get Matty to sit right a long time ago, instead just flat out ignoring him. It was always easier to fail than to teach. 

“Fucking poofter, that one,” you can hear someone saying from behind you. You know they mean Matty. 

Matty blows them both a kiss before getting flipped off by the shorter one. He loved taking the piss out of the people who insulted him, throwing them off. 

George questions mattys makeup, and you tell him it was his idea. George had always supported Matty, using his insanely tall stature to fend off anyone giving him a hard time. 

The lesson was going by at a snail's pace, with Matty being his usual self, interrupting at every possible moment. It was so obvious he was off his tits, and Mr. Henderson looked suspicious. A particularly loud laugh from George had prompted him to throw you all out. You couldn't care less, getting up immediately.

Matty picked up his things from the floor, making a show out of bending over in front of the two boys that had insulted him earlier. They both scrunch their faces in disgust, muttering under their breaths. A giggle escapes you as they stare daggers.

“Fucking cunt,” one of them says, and now it’s your turn to blow them a kiss. 

The three of you trudge down the halls, slowly but surely coming down from your highs. George suggests going to Ross and Adams flat, seeing as it's just a few bus stops away from the school. They share a flat above a Sainsburys, which is optimal for late night munchies. Adam even works there, so there's always opportunities to sneak a packet of crisps or a can of cola. 

The bus stinks of sweat and mildew, as did all buses in britain. You get used to the stench after a while, your legs propped up onto George and Mattys laps. The back seat was always your favorite, giving you ample space to stretch a bit. You and George share headphones while Matty takes a quick power nap. He always lets you pick the music, and today it was Radioheads ‘No Surprises’. The music plays softly as buildings and trees pass by the window. The day was quite sunny, the light reflecting off of the windows of houses and offices. You'd sobered up enough to be able to think clearly by now. 

These days were the best. They felt calm, like you could forget every other fucked up thing in your life. Your mother, your coursework. Nothing else existed in your little bubble except the people you were with. It felt peaceful, like a breath of fresh air. 

Matty stirred awake as the bus halted to a stop, yawning for dramatic effect. He loved to exaggerate, ever the performer. George was the quiet, brooding type, trying desperately to go unnoticed, which proved rather difficult. Although he was barely coming up on his 18th birthday, he had grown to a staggering 6 '4, with a voice at least 3 or so octaves deeper than Mattys. 

It had proven useful, you aways had someone to send into the smoke shop to buy fags or liquor, even if it always took a pep talk to even get him through the front door. George was convinced he didn't look older, even though he had never been carded. Ever. 

Usually it was Adam who bought it for you, even though both Matty and Ross were also already 18. Matty had already been banned from most liquor stores in the area, so he proved rather useless in situations needing a bit of booze. 

Mattys violent knocks against the flat door brought you back to reality

“C’MON OPEN UP ITS US,” his voice booms through the hallway. You can hear banging and shuffling coming from the other side of the door. It's so obviously Ross bumping into every available surface because he hadn't turned on the light yet. He was an avid day sleeper, mostly working night shifts. A particularly loud crash is followed by glass breaking. 

Matty taps his foot impatiently, waiting for the door to finally open. Ross emerges, looking disgruntled and tired of Mattys shit. 

“Mate, tell me, what possessed you to come knocking about at this hour, don't you have school-? I swear you're going to be the end of me one day” he rubs his eyes, getting the sleep out of them before moving out of the way to let the three of you in. 

“First of all, it's like 11am, so not exactly the ungodly hour you were describing,” Matty starts “Second of all, we’ve been kicked out of class, so where better to come than here?” 

The inside of the flat reeks of cigarettes and laundry detergent. Ross refuses to smoke on the terrace, deeming it too cold even in the middle of summer. Adam always smokes on the terrace, scared of staining the walls like in those addiction documentaries. A futile attempt, but at least he tries. Matty immediately lights a fag, sighing happily when the nicotine hit his system. School had always been an endurance test for him. Getting him to sit still for 2 hours without going for a cigarette proved nearly impossible. He was already itching by the 45 minute mark.

“What did you even do to get kicked out before 12?” He looks at George, who tells him exactly what happened with tears of laughter in his eyes. Matty rolls his before sitting down on the comforter located to the left of the TV, ashing into one of the various ashtrays situated around the house. George sits on the sofa next to Ross, and you make your way to your favorite spot, the table. Sitting cross legged on the table made you all face each other, which you quite liked. 

“Brew?” George asks, looking up from his Ipod. Everyone nods, and he gets up to put on the kettle. Idle conversation fills the air, and Matty starts chatting about the new “groundbreaking” Metallica album. Matty was, if anything, a music snob. No one could stop him raving on about albums or artists, whether he was praising or criticizing them. Once he started, you couldn't stop him to save your life.

Minutes tick past when George brings back mugs of tea. Mattys mug has got the words “I ❤️ cum” on it. Ross has his usual Macclesfield Town mug, and you and George have the plain green ones Adam bought in an attempt to make the flat seem somewhat civilized. 

Hours pass and Matty finally shuts up. You end up on top of him, sitting on the arms of the comforter. You're all watching Skins on the telly, and Mattys hand makes its way to your back, keeping you steady. He’d always been touchy like that, so it didn't bother you. You look at the sofa and see Ross passed out, drooling onto George's jumper. George, polite as ever, lets him sleep. It was a miracle Ross hadn't started snoring already. 

You suggest to Matty that maybe it was time to get going, seeing as you lived on the other side of the city. George's place was right around the corner, so he decided to stay and look after Ross a bit before Adam got home from his shift. Britain's sweetheart. 

Getting up as quietly as possible, making your way towards the door. Ross stirs as Matty almost knocks over his mug. The two of you make eye contact, silently laughing at Ross’ position, basically on top of George. He flipped you off, rolling his eyes and reaching for the remote, turning down the telly.

It was still fairly dark inside, so gathering everything proved a bit of a challenge. The curtains were drawn shut, the yellow material of them painting the house in a warm yellow hue. 

You had spotted Mattys flowery bag in the corner next to the stove, and grabbed it along with a bottle of cola that was set on top of the kitchen counter. Hydration was important, after all, even if you knew Adam would be livid that you were stealing his shit again. What are mates for?    

Matty grabbed both of your coats, mouthing “lets go,” before making his way towards the front door. 

The bright light of the hallway burns your eyes. How do they survive coming out here when that fucking flat is always so dark? You think to yourself. You wonder if Ross has a vitamin D deficiency from the inherent lack of sunshine in his life, yourself excluded. 

The bus ride home is rowdier, filled with kids from surrounding schools. The both of you hid in a corner towards the front, away from the dickheads that usually sat in the back row. You were both too tired to deal with anyone but each other. 

He was right, everything did smell like jimmy choo now, and maybe you shouldn't have sprayed so much. 

His hand wanders to his eyes, rubbing a bit of the eyeshadow off.

“Does it still look alright?” he asks, looking up from your lap. It had smudged a bit, melted off after a full day of wear. It's not like you used your expensive waterproof stuff, after all.

“You look fine, pretty actually,” You give him a tired smile, stroking his hair absentmindedly 

“Can you even call a guy pretty? Isn't that, like, inherently degrading?” Matty mutters, a grin spreading onto his face. 

“It's only degrading if you let it be. You Matthew Healy, are pretty. Pretty like a girl” 

A laugh escapes you, imagining Matty as a woman. Knowing him, he’d be into it. 

“Does it bother you? Y’know, me being feminine and wearing makeup.” The question surprises you. It's a rare thing seeing Matty this vulnerable. He doesn't care what other people think, but he does care what you think. 

“You know I don't care, I actually prefer you this way.” you assure him.

“Though it's still my mission to convince you that the backpack is not the move you think it is.” 

That earns you a frown from Matty. “It is! I'll let you know the lady at the store told be it very in this time of year” its always funny watching him get defensive over his fashion choices, even if he knows he’s fucked up and its hideous. 

“Yeah maybe it's trendy... for 8 year old girls! But you do you mate, don't let me judge you,” that gets you an elbow to the gut. 

The walk home is one you always take together. Arms hooked into each other, walking, sharing headphones. It's your turn on the music, putting on ‘This Charming Man’ by the smiths. 

“You know, Morrissey sort of reminds me of you. You're really similar in your campness”  Matty choked on air, shooting you a faux offended look. 

“Did you seriously call Morrissey camp? He'd have your head for that.” 

“You're both attention slags, so there's at least one similarity.” Matty doesn't say anything, knowing your words do, in fact, ring true. Matty loves attention, and man, is good at getting it. 

He draws people to him like moths to a flame. Always the loudest, always the most interesting. 

That one saying; “You can't be the prettiest girl at the party, but you always be the drunkest” is a personification of Matty. He tips back wine glass after wine glass, not caring about the stains on his shirt or the red ring around his lips. He then makes it a poor Hanns job to make sure he doesnt get into a scrap with three much bigger guys (which actually did happen last summer outside of a pub in london. Matty got out scot free, while Adam nearly suffered a heart attack). 

You hug Matty goodbye, giving him a peck on the cheek. 

You always dreaded coming home. 

They say your biggest critic is your mind, but yours was your mother. You knew she had already gotten a call from the school saying you cut class. The moment you stepped into the living room, the yelling started. “How can you do this” and “What are you even doing with your life” turned into “Look at yourself, you look like a whore and you're going to school like that?” or “Were you out with that little gay boyfriend of yours again?”

You try to tune it out, not letting it get to you. She's been like that for as long as you can remember, never letting up for even just a second. You weren't the best kid, but she sure isn't helping you “get on the right track” as she liked to say.

Tears well up in your eyes when you finally shut your bedroom door. Your first instinct is to call Matty. He picks up after two rings, immediately hearing the quiver in your voice. 

He tells you he’ll be there as soon as he can. 

Minutes pass by slowly until you hear a familiar, although uncharacteristically soft, knock at your window. Matty.

Your puffy eyes meet his and he can tell you’d been crying. No words were exchanged as he took you into your arms, his hands soothingly stroking your hair as you let out muffled sobs into his chest. It broke his fucking heart to see you like this. You were extensions of each other, the others' pain was always your own.    

“It's all so shit. Why cant she just be normal one fucking time.” your voice audibly shakes, partially out of anger and partially out of exasperation. 

“I know i suck, I know I'm a bad daughter but-,” Matty cuts you off. “You’re fucking amazing, you know that?” His words only make you cry harder. 

He holds you close, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, the sound of his voice similar to the way he spoke to you that night. His hands feel cold against your skin, and you know he’d rushed to your house without grabbing his coat. You look up at him, seeing his hair was unruly, curls falling into his face. The blonde highlights littered his dark hair and he ran his hand through them, brushing them to the side to get a better look at you. 

“D’you want to sit down? We can listen to music. Whatever you want, and won't even comment on how shit it is, promise,” He knew you didn't want to talk about it then, you never did.  

You sit in silence, your face still in his chest, staining the light blue material of his shirt. You quietly apologize, knowing how much he loves that shirt. He tells you to shut up, and that it didn't matter. 

He had gotten it in Barcelona at some tourist shop for 50 quid. Insane price for a tshirt that just said “Barcelona” on it, but he held it dear to his heart. It reminded him of his childhood summers. 

“There's a bottle of um…,” you trail off, gesturing to the second drawer of your nightstand. Matty understands, and reaches over you to open it. The drawer is filled with half eaten granola bars, bracelets, jewelry, the odd vape for when it was too cold to go outside. Matty always took the piss out of you for having them, saying they were ‘so fucking girly it hurt’. After a second of rummaging, he took out a half drunk bottle of Bacardi. It always sat in your nightstand for when you needed it, and you definitely needed it now. 

“Only you'd have a giant bottle of rum in your nightstand,” Matty says softly, searching your expression. The corners of your mouth tug upwards at his words, and you crack a smile.   

He opens it for you, and grabs an abandoned cup from your desk. The cup he had gifted you on your 17th birthday. It was covered in flowers and stars, very Matty. Very you. Pouring a healthy amount into the glass, he hands it to you.  

“To shitty situations” He raises it, clinking it against your cup. He takes a swig straight from the bottle. You down the whole thing in one go, wincing as the alcohol burns down your throat. 

“You feel better?” he asks, pouring more into your cup. You nod, before taking another drink. “I just need to get drunk and forget,” you sigh. Matty starts to speak again.

“That's an unhealthy way to go about it. Soon enough I'll be picking you up from corners because you can't handle your liquor. It's a recipe for alcoholism, innit?” you cackle at his words prompting Matty to raise his eyebrows at you.  

“Oh come off it!,” How many times have you been so drunk you couldn't find your own dick if you tried. Sort yourself out before criticizing my drinking habits.” you scoff  

You decide ‘Wonderwall’ by Oasis is the right soundtrack for the night. You lay down next to Matty, your shoulders and thighs touching each other. You look up fondly at the dozens of yellow stars littering your ceiling. Reminiscent of your early childhood, you couldn't bear to take them down. You still felt like a child, your heart yearning for the same innocence you no longer possessed. A distinct naïveté you missed dearly. After your breakup with Phillip you'd realized that the world wasn't all it was cut out to be. People wanted, and they took. It didn't matter to them if they hurt others, because as long as they were satiated, nothing else mattered. 

You turn to your left, draping your arm over Mattys stomach. He let out a deep breath, raising his right arm to draw light circles onto your back. His nails had grown out longer than usual, but the sharpness of them was comforting through the thin material of your tank top. The edge of your small twin bed dug into your back. 

The two of you laid like that for hours before sleep took over your body. The stars on the ceiling blurred as your eyes started to shut. You let out a soft hum, settling into Matty even more, holding him close.

You don't know how long he stayed, but he was gone when you woke up. You feel a sticky note attached to your forehead, the glue rubbing off on your skin. You could barely read Mattys erratic handwriting. The note read: you fell asleep, hope your hangover isn't as bad as mine. left you some Advil on your dresser xx. 

Your hand reached next to you, feeling two tablets. You wash them down with water from the sink. Your cell phone lights up with a text from George 

“We’re meeting at Hanns flat, be there in 30,”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The windows were rolled up, trapping the smoke inside. Your eyes were glazed over, barely able to make out Ross’ face in front of you. Watching as Matty took another hit, you made a ‘give it here’ motion at the zoot, prompting him to hand it to you. Rhianna blared through the radio, a far cry from Adams usual taste in music, but no one seemed to care. Even Matty had managed to keep his mouth shut, instead moving his head in time with the music. 

Adam was sitting in the driver's seat, as always. He’d never let anyone else drive his girl, not even Ross. He was insanely protective over his car, even if it was an old piece of junk. 

George was in the passenger seat, holding a pink, polka dotted ashtray in his hand. The colorful ceramic proved quite the contrast against his dark clothes and messy blonde hair. It was a gift from his older sister, and the only ashtray he ever used. 

You were perched in the middle seat, your elbows on the console between Adam and George. Matty sat on your right, and Ross on your left.  

“No joke, I once had a bird offer to give me a footjob. Can you imagine that?” Adam spoke loudly, almost too loud. Ross let out a disgusting snort, the mental image of Adam getting a footjob making him properly lose it. You make a face. 

“That can't feel good at all, innit? Aren't the soles of feet rough?” you ponder. “Only if you have George's hobbit feet, that is,” Matty said, ducking to avoid yet another lighter being chucked at him. You were going to run out of lighters at this rate. 

“I'll show you hobbit feet you fucking cunt,” George retorted, sticking out his tongue like a child.

“I had a girl once who wanted me to properly bite down on her nipples, like hard. Can't imagine how much that would've hurt.” you share. She’d been quite the odd one up until she was in your bed, so you were already expecting some sort of weird kink. Nipple biting was definitely not on that list. Not that you were kink shaming.  

George spoke first: “What d’you mean girl? You're telling me you've been with girls?” You raise your eyebrows at him. “Erm, yeah? Didn't I tell you-?” Everyone shook their heads except Matty. You had already told him this story months before, the both of you laughing at your misfortune. Smiling at the fond memory, you meet Ross’ eye. 

“We didn't know you were like, proper gay,” he says quietly, not wanting to sound abrasive. You suck in a deep breath before answering. “I'm not proper anything, and besides,” you point at Matty sitting next to you, “This one’s snogged loads of blokes.”  A collective “What???” fills the car, with everyone's eyes now on Matty. 

“What if I have? It's not my job to notify you of all my sexual endeavors, innit?” Matty looks slightly uncomfortable, giving you a look. You frown at him, and he shakes his head. Slight signs of a smile linger on his face. It's fine he mouths at you, resting his arm on your shoulder. 

The three of them talk loudly over each other, with Ross asking some very explicit questions on the mechanics of gay sex. 

“How do you even, like, properly shag? It's not like you have anything you can shove into the other girl,” Jesus christ. 

Matty taps Ross’ shoulder, bringing the attention to his hands. He brings them up to his mouth, sticking his tongue out between the V-shape his fingers had made. Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, the whole demonstration makes Ross visibly cringe. 

The car suddenly starts. Adam makes the short drive to Carolines, stating that the hotbox was getting to be too much for him. George has a go at his age, calling him an old man. Hann was in fact, about 2 and a half years older than George, and a solid year older than the rest of you. Old man was right. 

You had rolled down the window on Mattys side, hoping some fresh air would help Adams driving skills. The erratic swerving had begun to make you sick. 

Finally trugding up the stairs to the terrace, Matty says something about it being too fucking cold. Ross says “That's the price of being built like a male Kate Moss,” and Matty nearly shoves him down the stairs. 

It is colder than usual, and you had opted for a dark gray zip up, the material hugging you tightly. You were pretty sure it was Mattys. A pair of green wash jeans hung low, revealing the lightning bolt tattoo on your right hip bone. It was a copy of Bowie's on the cover of ‘Aladdin Sane’. You had gotten it done by another one of your mates, Rome, who was an aspiring tattoo artist. It looked a bit shit, the lines slightly crooked, but it was yours. 

You had convinced George and Ross to carry the sofa from the office onto the terrace. They were the tallest and strongest, and Mattys arms would have snapped like twigs if he tried to carry anything, you said to them. George laughed his octave defying laugh, while Ross let out an annoyed grunt, shoving past you. 

Adam was right behind them, carrying a small wooden coffee table. “For you- I know how much you hate sofas,” he says quietly. You called him a softy, but inevitably thanked him for bringing it out. He had his rare sweet moments, and you appreciate them 

Once you had all settled, you took out your tobacco and papes, starting to roll your first cigarette of the night. You honestly needed a break from all the weed, because jesus. 

Matty let out a groan, taking the piss out of you for bringing all that instead of just buying industrials. 

“I know you think you're better than us for rolling, it's quite pretentious.” he sucks in a breath before talking, moving his hands erratically “Don't tell me it ‘tastes better’ because that's simply bollocks, it all tastes the same!” 

“Pretentious? Her? That's rich coming from someone who raves on about William Burroughs like anyone knows who is!” Matty looks hurt, and you give Ross a look that says you really don't know who William Burroughs is?

The conversation continued without you, too preoccupied with rolling to add anything. All was well until George decided to open his giant mouth again. 

“If you're not fully gay,” he started, “how do we know you're not secretly crushing on any of us?” he raised his eyebrows, looking at you expectantly.

You let out a snort, it slowly morphing into laughter until you look at him, his expression deadly serious. 

“You can’t actually mean that?” your voice is slightly hoarse. “For all we know, you could be harboring secret affection for Matty with the amount of times you’ve slept in the same bed.” 

Mattys perks up at this, shooting George a glare that could kill a man. He told him??? 

You don't know what came over you. Maybe it was the weed, maybe you were just groggy from the lingering hangover. You lick the cig closed, setting down next to the others. Uncrossing your legs, you get up and walk towards Matty. You can see the grin plastered onto his face, and he is definitely not sober.

You stumbled over Adam's foot, kicking it out of the way. Ross moved away from Matty, giving you some space. 

The terrace was dark, but the moonlight illuminated some of Mattys features. Specifically, his eyes. They seemed to glow, following your every step toward him. I'll show you secret affection you thought to yourself when your hand made contact with Mattys face. The stubble on his chin scratched your fingers. He never could grow a beard, and the faint shadow was as long as it would get. 

He sat with his legs spread, skin peaking out through the single rip in his jeans. His arms rested on the sofas back, splaying out to the side. He wore a black v-line jumper, the knit of it almost see-through.  

The makeup from the previous day was still smudged on his face, giving him a rockstar-esque look. The eyeshadow framed his eyes, glittering in the faint light. Your hands cupped his face, lightly stroking his jaw. The grin had been wiped off his face the moment you had settled between his legs, kneeling on the edge of the sofa. 

You didn't think, just moved, your lips smashing against each other. It seemed to take Matty by surprise, and it even took him a second before he kissed you back. One thing nagged at you. Why did you like it?

There was no time to think when you heard George wolf whistle at the both of you. 

You want a show, I'll give you a show you thought, slipping in your tongue and taking over the kiss. He seemed into it, but then again, Matty would fuck anything with a pulse. You smile against his mouth at the thought. It suddenly felt hot, even though you were outside. His hand snaked its way into your hair, tugging slightly. This didn't feel platonic. Was it?

“Alright, alright, we didn't sign up for a porno,” Ross says, his hand covering his mouth. You were the one who broke the kiss. Matty let out a soft groan when you parted, loud enough for only you to hear. His eyes pierced yours, and you moved to get off of him. 

Your heart thrummed against your ribcage, and you felt dizzy. What the fuck?

You wiped your mouth, your lipgloss having smeared all over your face. Wiping the back of your sticky hand against the sofa, you turned and walked back to your spot on the table. 

“See! Absolutely no ‘secret affection’ as George so kindly put it.” you say to the group, going back to your pile of fags, taking one and lighting it. If you had looked at Matty instead of being preoccupied with Hanns bickering about the prissy new manager, you would have noticed a faint shade of red caressing his cheeks. He felt around for his own cigarettes, and took out a pack of parliaments. Spotting the lighter next to you, he reached for it, lighting the cig as he inhaled the smoke eagerly.

It was already half two when the five of you finally piled back into Hanns car. The prominent stench of weed made you scrunch up your nose. You decide to light a cigarette in the car despite various protests and threats to your life if you even dared to ash onto the leather seats. Switching seats with Matty, you ash out the window instead, resting your head against the rim of the car. 

Ross and George were having yet another meaningless debate on whether mixing ketchup and mayo was a cardinal sin or totally acceptable. Every other word was an insult, and you knew they would never come to an agreement, ever.

You had already established that you’d be sleeping over at Mattys, saving Adam time and petrol not having to drive both of you home separately. Denise and Tim were out on a press tour, so he had the house to himself. 

His room was dark, the curtains drawn shut. If you knew Matty, you knew he hated the big light with a burning passion. Instead, a small lamp was turned on in the corner, illuminating the various posters that littered his wall. Band posters, prints, tapestries, the occasional quote. Everything screamed Matty

His room was filled with so much music. CD’s, vinyls, even the odd cassette tape. His purple record player sat on top of a dresser next to his desk, surrounded by various small trinkets of his. It was his prized possession, a gift from his mother for his 14th birthday.  

You had already helped yourself to a cola from his fridge downstair. His house was huge, way bigger than your own. Your parents weren't actors, after all. The walls of his room were stained towards the corners, just another side effect of Mattys near constant chain smoking. His bed was big, and you both fit comfortably on it. The wardrobe next to it had a pile of your own clothes in it, but none to sleep in. Your eyes dart around the room looking for one of his to wear, landing on his bright pink durex t-shirt. He had worn it once to school, promptly getting kicked out of literature class by a very conservative Mrs. Sexton.

Soft music was playing in the background as you unloaded your bag onto Matty’s insanely cluttered desk. Out came multiple pens, makeup, not one, not two, but three lighters, and finally, makeup wipes.    

You sat on the ground in front of his full length mirror, wiping at your eyes and face. Matty was making the bed, giving the both of you each your own duvet, a must after too many fights over the blanket. You weren't a peaceful sleeper, constantly tossing and turning, occasionally even kicking Matty in the back. 

Washing your face, you hear the bathroom door click open. Matty went and sat on the closed toilet lid next to you.

“Hand me my toothbrush, will you? And some toothpaste.” he asked, stretching his hand out. You do, even wetting the toothbrush for him. 

He sat there, brushing his teeth and flipping through a recent issue of playboy while you put moisturizer on, and then a serum. 

“I dont get how you can be arsed to put all that shit on your face, it takes way too long,” his comment makes you roll your eyes at him in the reflection. 

“Not everyone is naturally blessed with clear skin like you, people like me have to put effort into their appearance, knobhead.” A wave of insecurity hits you as you inspect the acne on your face. 

You had been a chronic face picker in your early teenage years, and the consequences of that were gnarly acne scars covering most of your face. They were not prominent, but they were there. 

Matty was fortunate enough to have had maybe three zits ever, his clear skin the stuff of dreams. 

Matty watches you pick yourself apart in the mirror. He hated when you did that. It made his heart ache in his chest. He wished you could see what he saw. What did he see?

“You’re quite beautiful, really,” he says, making eye contact with you through the mirror. You’re taken aback, not quite sure how to respond. You open your mouth to speak. 

“Oh bugger off,” you say, your voice breathy and annoyed. You didn't want to sound annoyed, it just came out that way. 

Matty raises both his hands in defeat, and spits the toothpaste into the toilet bowl, flushing. The hairbands sitting on the bathroom counter eventually end up in your hair, holding together two braids on either side of your face. You stare at the mirror one more time, examining yourself. The pink fabric of your (well, Mattys) shirt clung to you like it did Matty. Taking off your bra, you go back into his room. He had changed into a loose Kiss t-shirt and black boxers. The light of the corner lamp helped you find your phone, sitting on the nightstand next to you. 

The atmosphere was calm, calm enough that you’d almost forgotten about the kiss. Almost. 

Matty reached over to turn the lamp off, lighting a candle for light. Cinnamon. 

“You know it's dangerous to sleep with candles lit? We could catch on fire and die,” Matty had rolled over on his side, now facing you. A grin spread onto his face. 

“If it kept me from ever seeing Hanns ugly mug ever again, i’d gladly let cinnamon spice scented flames burn me to death,” 

You giggle at his words. Poor Adam, always taking the worst of Mattys jokes, if you could even call them that. Accepting his decision to keep the candle lit, you pull the blanket over your shoulders. Your eyes shut and you can feel butterflies in your stomach. Butterflies, really? Jesus fucking christ. 

You're scared to open your eyes, scared to even look at Matty. Maybe it was a mistake. He's your best mate. That kiss didn't mean anything, especially not to him.

A million thoughts race through your head, and you shove them into a small corner of your mind. Ignore ignore ignore, it didn't mean anything. He's just some wanker who picked you up at a bus stop three years ago and somehow became your best mate. He's just some guy you share a bed with sometimes. He's just some guy who lights your spliffs for you. He's just some guy who you kissed on a terrace overlooking the city. 

Fuck. 

#look at me trying to write #cringe #the 1975 #matty healy #ross macdonald #adam hann #george daniel #drive like i do #matty healy x reader #matty healy angst #matty healy fluff #slow burn #eventual smut #friends to lovers #fallingforyou #dlid #matty healy x you

[ashcal99]

Collarbones : Jasper Whitlock Hale IV

Chapter Four

"I can see your collarbones and baby I'm scared, Never thought I'd be so unprepared"

Summary: Camila Johnson was only 16 when she was diagnosed with leukemia. By the time she had turned 17, the doctors had tried everything to save her. Her family is close to giving up hope when they hear of a doctor who may be able to help her. The only problem is, he lives on the opposite side of the country. The small family soon decides to move to the small town in Washington, in efforts to prolong her life. In doing so, her life changes forever.

Warnings: Eventual smut (18+ only), mentions of death, depression, violence, descriptions of disease and weight loss, general angst, slow burn

Words: 7.4k

A/N: Please lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list. Hope you enjoy. Made this chapter extra long for the wait x

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——————

January 29th, 2005

Camila sat there, frozen in time, for what seemed like an eternity trying to process what Jasper had just admitted. So, Jasper sat there, unmoving as well as not breathing. He wasn’t sure how she was taking the new information and suddenly found himself wishing that he held Edward’s power in that moment, willing to give everything just to know the thoughts that were going through her mind. Second best, he knew that she, remarkably, held no fright towards the admission, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she lacked the simple instinct that humans should be born with. The instinct to run away screaming when someone tells you that they’re a monster and could easily kill you. 

At the end of the day, he knew that was what he was. A monster. He may have changed his diet and tried to appear human, but he was far from it. He had killed people. Innocent people. He couldn’t even make the argument that his family had done the same, because their body counts were minuscule compared to his. He had fed off of human blood for nearly eighty-five years before Alice had found him. Even with his new found vegetarianism considered, he still slipped up. More than anybody else, and even though he knew that Camila was safe around him, he also knew that she had every reason in the world to fear him, and it confused the hell out of him that she didn’t.

He couldn’t help himself as he spoke, the silence eating away at his resolve. “Can you please tell me what’s going through your mind?” He asked, nervousness gripping his throat as he croaked the words out. 

Camila’s eyes flashed over to him, eyebrows creased in… confusion maybe? “I don’t know… I feel like I know I shouldn’t believe you, but for some reason, I do?” She said, eyes tracing his serious expression. “Can you prove it? N-not the vampire thing, I guess, but something to prove any of it is true?” She asked. 

Jasper’s mind reeled for a moment trying to think of something quickly, when an idea popped into his head. “Remember how you said I’m really good at reading emotions? Like an empath?” He asked, waiting for her nod before continuing. “It’s a little more than that. Some of us, when we turn, we get… gifts. When I was changed I could not only feel people’s emotions like they were my own, but manipulate them too.” He explained slowly, trying to find the right words.

Given the situation, he figured this was his best bet in not freaking her out any further. Eyes scanning her face to make sure that she was okay with what he was about to do, he pushed a wave of happiness towards her. He watched as the corners of her lips curved upwards, the crease between her eyebrows smoothing as her heart filled with overwhelming joy. 

She didn’t know nor care why she had become so  suddenly happy, but as soon as the emotion was ripped back from her, the pieces clicked together. The smile slowly dropped from her face as her mind returned to where had been just moments before. “Holy shit.” She huffed out. He was telling the truth. As soon as the feeling of joy had hit her, it was gone. 

Her eyes widened suddenly. Maybe this was the explanation as to why she felt so strongly towards him. Maybe it was him all along, manipulating her feelings. “Y-you don’t do that to me often do you?” She asked nervously. 

Jasper shook his head quickly, not wanting her to get the wrong idea. “No. I’ve never with you before.” He rushed out, hoping to whatever god that she would believe him.

Letting out a sigh, Camila let her shoulders drop as she let herself relax back into her seat. She had no reason to think he was lying. From what she could tell, all of her feelings and emotions involving him were genuine, no matter how much she wished that they weren’t there to begin with.

“So, is the whole thing about garlic true?” She asked trying to lighten the mood. Everything had suddenly gotten much too daunting.

Throwing his head back with a bark of laughter, Jasper ran his long thin fingers through his golden curls. How in the world was she taking all of this so well? The ball had to drop at some point, right? There’s no way that everything would go this smoothly. Surely after she learned about his past and how much of a monster he really was, surely then, she would run away screaming. But that admission would have to wait for another day, because in that moment, he would give anything keep Camila as far away from that part of him as possible.

——————

January 31st, 2005

The rest of her day with Jasper had flown by, and before Camila knew it, it was the start to her second week at Forks High School. After the exhaustion of her first week, and hanging out with Jasper on Saturday, the rest of her weekend consisted of sleep and cramming in the remainder of her homework. When Monday finally came around, she was well rested, at lest as well rested as she could be. 

Camila had just joined the end of the line in the cafeteria, Eric talking her ear off behind her once again, when her eyes finally met Jasper’s across the crowded room. She hadn’t seen him since he had dropped her back off at home Saturday night. Like a perfect gentleman, he had waited, car pulled against the curb and watched her figure until she had successfully made it fully inside her home, before he drove away. 

Now that her eyes had met his for the first time since she had been given the opportunity to fully, well mostly maybe, process his confession, she felt a weight leave her shoulders that she wasn’t even aware was there in the first place. The rest of their night on Saturday had consisted mostly of more light hearted conversation, so now that she had been given the time to think of more questions to ask him, she had began to grow anxious of waiting. 

She knew the questions would have to wait, however, but seeing his face, that alone, eased that stress and anxiety from her. Everything had happened so quickly that her mind didn’t know how to calculate what his confession actually meant, and over the remainder of the weekend her mind had time to wander. He was dangerous, that much was apparent, but somehow, she also knew that he wouldn’t hurt her. That she was safe with him. 

It felt almost like a fever dream, everything happening so quickly. They had only just met, but suddenly, she couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so comfortable with another person. So comfortable with being vulnerable, and content with sharing with him what she had been so keen on keeping from everyone else. Clearly he felt the same, that much she could gather herself, given his blatant honesty with her. 

Eric’s voice broke her from her thoughts as he continued his ramble on about how their trip to La Push Beach had gone and how she ‘had to join them next time’. She had to stop herself from cringing, not looking forward to coming up with another excuse in the future. She turned to him, attempting to give a reassuring smile. She didn’t want to come off rude, especially with the wide grin that was stretched across his face. He was just trying to be friendly, and that’s what she wanted. So, even if his persistence slightly annoyed her, she was still happy to have him around. 

Chills ran up her spine as icy fingertips brushed lightly across her lower back, bringing goosebumps quickly to the surface of her skin. She knew who it was, of course, before she looked up, having already gotten used to the feel of his touch, but that didn’t stop the flutter of her heart as her eyes met Jasper’s once more. He had sensed her unease from across the room and had decided to come to her rescue. 

“Will you sit with us for lunch today?” He asked, giving her a quirked eyebrow as well as a small smile. Alice had been pestering him since his return on Saturday to spend more time with the girl. As usual, she would get what she wanted, she already knew that of course, but that didn’t stop her from reminding him at every chance she got. 

Jasper watched as the gears in her head began to turn, slowly processing his invitation, her heart sputtering at his touch. He couldn’t help his smile from growing bigger across his face, enjoying hearing the reaction he had on her heart. “S-sure.” She stuttered out, turning back to the lunch lady to pay for her tray of food. She sent a small wave and smile to the boy, Eric, and fell in stride by Jasper’s side, his hand ghosting the small of her back as he lead her to the table that held the remainder of his family. 

Eric stood for a moment, mouth agape as he stared at their retreating figures. What was it with the new girls and the Cullens? Why was that family suddenly so sociable after a year of barely speaking to anybody? From across the cafeteria, the two were beginning to attract the stares from the rest of her friend group, and when she finally made it to the table, Jasper pulling her chair out for her to take a seat, the majority of the overcrowded room was practically ogling them. A fact, in which was doing nothing to ease the anxiety that had settled in the pit of her stomach.

Setting her tray down, she slowly dropped into the hard plastic seat, shoulders tensing as she took in the perfect faces sat in front of her. Camila had of course met Alice the week previous, but she had yet to meet Jasper’s other siblings. She wasn’t sure if she should feel more or less comfortable meeting the pale strangers now that she knew their secret, but the fact was, she knew and nothing would change that now. 

Feeling waves of anxiety and stress radiate from Camila, he decided now would be a time to use his powers, one that he hoped she wouldn’t be mad at him for later. He hated seeing the worry in her eyes and knew that her stress was unnecessary, so he did what he could and pushed feelings of calmness and comfortability towards her as he settled into the seat next to her. 

As the anxiety lifted from her shoulders, a polite smile formed on Camila’s lips. Jasper cleared his throat from beside her, gaining the attention of his siblings. “Camila this is my family.” He gestured towards the group. “Alice you met already.” He said pointing to the pixie haired girl on the other side of Camila.

The whole family already knew of his admission, and given the circumstances he was more that content with their reactions. He hadn’t exactly known what to expect from the situation, never having dealt with anything like it before. Carlisle and Esme had been happy for him, and though this slightly unnerved him, he knew it came with good intentions. He knew what coming clean to Camila could mean for her future, for their future, but he still refused to get his hopes up. Her knowing and having the choice to ‘live’ on had no guarantee that she would make that decision, and as much as it pained him, he knew that he would never be able to make that choice for her. 

Alice’s teeth shown brightly as she smiled at the girl, squealing lightly as she pulled her into a tight hug. Camila’s eyes widened, the immortal girl’s antics still surprising her despite already being on the receiving end previously. Before she was given the time to process and reciprocate the hug, Alice had pulled away and had returned to her comfortable position in her seat. 

Alice was of course ecstatic, even though she had seen the whole thing happen already, because now she was free to develop their friendship. She had seen the whole thing play out and knew just how close she would grow to Camila, and like a child on Christmas morning, was practically bouncing with anticipation when he had arrived home Saturday night. 

Jasper continued, stopping to roll his eyes at his sister. “This is Emmet and Rosalie.” He said, gesturing to the couple sitting at the opposite side of the table. Emmet gave a ginormous half smile half smirk to the girl, while Rosalie attempted the give a polite smile as well.

Emmet was of course laid back about the whole thing, only giving him a little bit of shit for finally finding his mate. Rosalie was surprisingly at ease with the situation, unlike her feelings towards Bella. Of course, Jasper knew why. She had always resented her immortality, having her humanity ripped away from her the way that it had been, and she wouldn’t wish that on anybody else. He knew her calm demeanor had to do with the fact that, unlike her human life, Camila had no chance of growing old. No chance of starting a family.

His heart ached at this knowledge, knowing that he would give anything he could to see Camila age into her beauty. To see her grow and start her adult life. To see her get married and have children, even if he wasn’t the one to give her that future. Unfortunately, maybe because God or whatever higher power was cruel or had a sick twisted sense of humor, she had no hope for that life. 

It had been an unexpected punch to the gut to meet her mother. She was such a perfect reflection of her daughter that it was almost like he was glimpsing into that impossible future. He knew that this would be how Camila would look, given the chance. But she didn’t have that chance, and that was his best guess as to why Rosalie had refrained from giving him the same shit she had been giving Edward. 

“And this is Edward.” Jasper said finally, turning to look at displeased expression of his adopted brother.

Edward had seemed slightly bitter about the situation. He obviously knew the differences between the two girls, but couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous at which the ease Jasper came by with telling Camila the truth. He himself would never wish the future of immortality onto Bella, but only wished that he didn’t have to suppress his want for the girl. He knew it was best to stay as far away from Bella as possible, hence why he had been avoiding her to the best of his abilities, but his resolve was beginning to waver. 

Jasper didn’t have to deal with any of this, despite having his own struggles. Camila already knew the truth about them, and soon she would be making that decision on her own. Hell, he didn’t even have to worry about his thirst around the girl, a fact that he couldn’t help but be bitter about. Edward had always had what he considered decent self control with human blood, something that he couldn’t say the same for with Jasper, and the one person that it truly mattered for, he was at his lowest point with self control. It was cruel irony. 

Despite not being able to read Edward’s mind like he could his, Jasper could feel his emotions, and he could fill in the rest himself. He didn’t want any animosity between him and his brother, but he knew that whatever Edward was feeling wouldn’t stop him from growing closer to Camila, and definitely wouldn’t stop Alice from begging him to let her spend more time with her. So that was why he had decided it was time to introduce her. What better time and place to break the ice between Camila and the rest of his family than the controlled environment of a school cafeteria? He had thought, and now, seeing the slight glare on Edward’s face, he couldn’t decide whether or not that had been a bad decision on his part.

As thoughts of anger rushed through Jasper’s mind, Edwards eyes flickered over to his. Edward’s glare softened as he processed Jasper’s internal dialog. He knew that it wasn’t his fault and he knew that it wasn’t Camila’s, but he couldn’t help how he felt. He was jealous and he was finding it difficult to hide his emotions. His eyes flitted across Jasper’s face, neck, and arms. The scars littered across his skin were a reminder to not push things with him. The crescents, nearly invisible to the human eye, were a gigantic red flag to any vampire. Neon lights that flashed bright as a warning to everyone around him to stay back or else. Although he knew that his brother would never hurt him, he also knew not to start a fight, because it would most definitely be one he would lose.

Huffing in irritation, Edward pulled out his chair, rushing to leave the cafeteria. He could try all he wanted to be civil and not start a fight, but he wasn’t about to sit there and take this torture. Over time it would get easier for him to cope, but in that moment, the wound was fresh and he needed to be far from the reminder. 

Jasper sighed in annoyance, rolling his eyes once again as he let his defenses fall back down to their normal level. “Ignore him.” He muttered to the girl beside him, slinging his arm protectively around the back of her chair.

——————

“So what’s with you and Cullen?” Tyler blurted out suddenly. Camila’s head fell to look at her boots that thudded along the hallway towards their last class of the day. She could feel the blood rushing up to her cheeks and knew that it would do little to help her case if he saw the growing blush. 

“What do you mean?” She asked, feigning confusion. It was a matter of time before someone started the inevitable conversation given Jasper’s display in the cafeteria that day, but she had hoped she would have a bit more time to prepare herself. 

Tyler stuffed his hands into his pockets awkwardly. “Yeah, you two seemed… cozy today at lunch.” He muttered.

Camila raised her head, quirking an eyebrow at the dark skinned boy in stride beside her. “Cozy?” She asked, a hint of humor tinting her voice. Tyler was clearly bothered by this whole situation, a fact that she found humorous given the circumstance. From the fact that Tyler had asked her to prom just a few days previous, she could gather herself that he was most likely jealous of Jasper. Not that he had any reason to be. Camila had every intention to stick to her plan of staying single and as much as she was beginning to care for Jasper, she didn’t see that changing.

A scoff sounded from the boy by her side as he rolled his eyes at her teasing. “Yeah. Cozy. You sat with his family at lunch instead of us, and he was practically all over you.” He argued. 

Camila laughed lightly at his words. “He was not all over me.” She argued. In fact, like usual, she had been hyper aware of every touch from the pale immortal. As usual, he had shown to be very hesitant in touching her, only giving the slight graze of his fingertips along her covered back as he lead her to the table. She of course was also extremely aware of the arm that he had slung protectively around the back of her seat after Edward’s whole display, but he had been very precise in not letting his cold skin actually touch her in any way.

Tyler groaned frustratedly. “Whatever it was, I don’t like it.” He complained.

Camila’s eyebrows knitted together. What was it with people at this school being assholes to them? The Cullen’s kept to themselves, sure, but they were never anything but polite to anyone they came into contact with. At this point, all these little comments that everybody kept making were beginning to piss her off. “And why should you not liking it mean anything to me?” She asked incredulously. Sure, she wanted to make friends, and be nice, but she was starting to become defensive over Jasper and she wasn’t just going to stand there and take everybody’s bullshit. Because that’s what it was. Complete and utter bullshit.

Tyler’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. He hadn’t expected her to respond in that way, never seeing her angry before. “I mean, he’s kind of creepy isn’t he? I’m just trying to look out for you. He doesn’t seem… good.” He said trailing off towards the end as he took in the expression of anger growing more and more prevalent on her face.

She had to bite back a snide remark as she tried to process how she could respond without sounding like a total bitch. An awkward silence rung between the two teens before she decided that she didn’t really care anymore. If he was going to give unsolicited advice to her when he barely knew her then she would respond accordingly. “No offense Tyler, but I didn’t ask for your shitty advice. I’m a big girl, I can look out for myself, thanks.” She said finitely.

Pushing her aching legs to move her forward at a faster pace, she let out an internal sigh of relief as the door to her calculous class came into view. Lunch had gone well, all things considered. Despite Edward’s little display, the rest of Jasper’s family had welcomed her with open arms. While the conversation mostly consisted of small talk and them asking her questions about herself, she could tell that they were all genuinely nice people. 

Alice had invited her over for the following weekend, in which Camila had immediately agreed to without thinking. Now that she had been given the time to think about the implications of the invite, she realized that she would be meeting their adoptive mother and seeing Carlisle. While she knew Carlisle fairly well, given meeting him the week prior, she realized how nervous she was to meet Esme. Jasper had talked the woman up so highly, but she couldn’t help but feel her nerves eating away at her. She would be meeting his mother soon, ‘adopted’ or not and it was only natural to have that kind of reaction. 

Jasper, as usual, was already seated at their assigned table by the time she had arrived to the classroom. Camila flitted to the back of the room to her seat, letting her body drop into the confines of the cool plastic, as she let out a heavy sigh. 

“Are you okay?” Jasper asked, concern lacing his voice. It was normal for her be exhausted by the end of the school day, but he could also feel her anger and frustration. The feelings set off warning bells in his mind and he was immediately on alert to what had upset her. 

Camila rolled her eyes, raking her slim fingers through the long dark strands of her hair. “Tyler Crowley is an asshole.” She said simply, annoyance still evident on her face as she recalled their conversation that had just taken place moments ago. 

His eyes flickered over to where said boy had just entered the classroom, narrowing as he took in the sight. “What did he say?” He asked, immediately defensive over the girl. 

“He apparently has an issue with you and ‘just wants to look out for me’.” She said, yanking her workbook and and pencil case from her backpack and slamming them down on the desk.

Jasper’s shoulder’s drooped at her words as he hummed in reply. He couldn’t even be mad. What Tyler said was clearly justified, whether or not Camila had realized. She should be warned about him. Just because he didn’t thirst for her blood didn’t mean that he wasn’t a danger towards her. Didn’t mean that he couldn’t hurt her, even if it wasn’t intensional. Didn’t mean that he wasn’t a monster at the end of the day.

Hearing his near silent response, Camila turned her head to see him looking down slightly defeated, eyes refusing to meet her own. “Jasper.” She said, trying and failing to get him to look at her. “Jasper.” She repeated, grasping at his hand  that laid in a tight fist at his thigh. 

Electricity shot through her fingers as they brushed the marble skin of his clenched knuckles, but she pushed on. “Can you look at me, please?” She asked, her soft voice contrasting the anger that had filled it just moments ago. 

His amber eyes flickered up to meet hers. As much as he wanted to sulk in that moment, he wanted more to give her what she wanted. Her eyes softened as she saw the pain that filled his. They were always filled with pain, but this was different. More of an inner torment and seeing it made her chest ache. 

She turned his fist over in her palm, nudging the fingers apart so she could intertwine them with her own. “He’s full of shit, Jazz. I know you would never hurt me.” She said, voice softly ringing in his ears. 

The pain in his heart grew at her words. He didn’t deserve her. She was too perfect for his damned self and he knew it, but that didn’t stop him from being grateful that she was there. It didn’t stop him from selfishly wanting her. He pulled their intertwined fingers up to his lips were he laid a soft kiss on the back of her palm, thanking her for her kindness. Thanking her for her comfort. 

The touch of his chilled lips on her skin sent her heart into overdrive, and knowing that he could he hear his effect on her didn’t help the blush that was creeping onto her cheeks. She had expected him to drop her hold after that, but instead, their hands remained, bound together and laying gently in his lap. 

Class continued, the two working together on finishing the next page in their worksheet. Jasper of course could finish the work in less than a minute, but anything that gave him the excuse to talk to Camila he would gladly do. She sat there, eyebrows furrowed as she worked over a particularly difficult problem on the sheet. Normally, she would have no problem solving the equations, but today her mind was wandering too much. She sighed, giving up as she let her pencil clatter onto the chipped veneer of the desk.

“Do you want to come over to my house today?” She asked suddenly. Clearly seeing that she had caught him off guard, she continued. “I have more questions.” She clarified. 

Jasper groaned internally. As much as he would love to avoid the inevitable conversation, he also knew that it had to happen at some point. At least he would get to spend more time with her, a definite plus. “Sure, I can just drive us after class if you’d like.” He offered. Alice had told him to drive separately to school that day, and now it was clear why. He would have to thank her later. 

Camila nodded, pulling her flip phone from her bag and trying to discreetly type a quick text to her mother letting her know that Jasper would drive her home. Doing so was a bit difficult to do one handed, but she wasn’t about to take her other hand out of his grasp. 

The remainder of the class trudged on slowly to Camila’s dismay. Now that she knew that she would be able to ask all of the questions that had been racing through her mind, she couldn’t seem to clear her head of them. Finally, a bell rang shrilly throughout the class, signaling the end of the school day. An unspoken agreement stood between her and Jasper as they both proceeded to pack away their belongings without undoing the grip on each other’s hands. 

She wasn’t sure what the hand holding meant to him or even herself, but she didn’t exactly care. She already had to constantly remind herself of her promise to keep any romance at bay, but hand holding didn’t necessarily have to mean that. It was comforting, having his cold palm pressed against hers, and despite her internal screaming at herself that it was a bad idea, she didn’t want to pull away. So there they were, walking down the hallway, hand in hand, attracting even more stares than usual. 

Camila let out a sigh as they reached the parking lot, the cool air feeling nice on her feverish skin. Puffs of vapor swirled in front of her mouth as steady breaths of hot air left her parted lips. Jasper had to rip his eyes away from the sight to make sure that he was walking in the right direction. He needed to pull his shit together. Kissing her hand had been bad enough, but he had to stop himself from thinking too much about her lips. Her soft warm plump lips. Jesus Christ, STOP. 

He wished so badly in that moment that he could’ve kissed her. Regardless of the numerous bystanders. However, he knew that it wasn’t safe. He didn’t trust himself enough not to end up accidentally hurting her. He didn’t even know if she would’ve kissed him back for fuck’s sake. And here he was feeling like an absolute creep again. 

Pulling himself from his thoughts, he pulled the passenger door of his car open for her. Reluctantly, she let loose of his grasp, immediately feeling an emptiness without it’s presence. She settled into the plush bucket seat, pulling her bag into her lap as he shut the door softly behind her. 

Flitting quickly, or as quick as seemed human, to the driver’s side, Jasper slid in and turned the key in the ignition. Shifting the car into reverse, he backed out of the parking spot and shifted back into drive as he sped out onto the street. He internally thanked his past self for buying a manual transmission before reaching over to grasp Camila’s hand once more. 

Camila let her hair fall in front of her face, hoping that the curtain of dark strands hid the smile that she couldn’t wipe away. For someone who was so adamant on not dating, she kept finding herself being giddy whenever he touched her. What was she a twelve year-old? He was just holding her hand, she shouldn’t feel like a swarm of butterflies was flying around in her stomach. 

The drive to Camila’s home hadn’t taken long, and by the time they arrived at the small house, he mother’s mini van was still absent from the driveway. She had replied earlier letting her know that she was going to go grocery shopping since she had time before she had to go to work, and Camila was happy to see that she hadn’t returned yet. One less awkward interaction with Jasper and her parents would always be a good thing. 

As they stepped through the threshold of the home, she found herself wishing she had cleaned her room. She hadn’t thought of the mess she had left behind before she had invited him over, albeit a small mess. Either way, she couldn’t help herself but try and hurriedly pick up the few pieces of clothing scattered around the room once they made it through the doorway. 

Once she was content with her ‘cleaning’ she shut the door softly behind her and plopped down on her mattress, the springs squeaking slightly in protest. Scooting backwards until her back met the wall, she patted the empty space beside her, gesturing for Jasper to join her. On one hand, she almost wanted to sit out on the couch in the living room, as it would probably seem less intimate that way, but she also didn’t want to be interrupted by her mother when she inevitably returned home from the store. So there they were sitting side by side awkwardly on her worn out used mattress and now she didn’t know how to start the conversation. 

Sensing her hesitation, Jasper spoke up. “So, you have questions.” He said, wanting to end the torture of waiting any longer. If she was going to run away screaming, he would rather it be sooner than later, because the anticipation was slowly eating away at him. 

Camila sucked in a breath. “How old are you?” She blurted out. Jasper groaned, rubbing his hands down his face. He should’ve expected her to jump right to the point, but, somehow, he hadn’t. “You said it was a conversation for another day. It’s another day now.” She reasoned.

“I know. I know.” He said with a sigh. “I’m just really old, Darlin’.” He said, hoping the nickname would distract her. It didn’t.

She scoffed. “That’s not an answer.” She said bluntly. 

Jasper closed his eyes, sucking in a breath as he braced for the impact of her reaction. “I’m a hundred and sixty-one.” He muttered lowly. Utter silence followed. 

Camila didn’t know what she expected, if the age he had given was younger or older than she had thought it would be, but hearing him say such a precise age made everything seem way more real. She couldn’t find the words to say in response, so instead, she reached over to grasp his hand once more, letting him know that she wasn’t disgusted like he had thought. 

“Will you tell me your story?” She asked, not being able to help her intrigue.

His bright gold eyes met her emerald irises. “It’s kind of gruesome.” He warned, trying his best to prolong the inevitable admission of his past, but knowing that it was just that. Inevitable.

“I want to know.” She said simply. “If you’re willing to tell me.” She clarified. 

Jasper was fucked and he knew it. Anything that she wanted, he would give her in a heartbeat, but she would hate him after this. “I didn't have quite the same upbringing as my adopted siblings.” He said, reaching his free hand over reluctantly, to roll up the sleeve on the arm that she held. 

She wasn’t sure how she hadn’t noticed them before, but there they were. Hundreds of crescent shaped scars shimmering lightly in the dim lighting emitted from her ceiling fan. Now that she knew what to look for, she could see the scars were scattered across every piece of visible skin. Down his arms, onto the hand that was holding hers, a few up his neck to his handsome face. “Are those… bites?” She asked incredulously.

“Battle scars.” He responded, a small smirk gracing his lips. “I was seventeen when I joined the Confederate Army.” He said, pausing when he saw her grimace. “I know. I wish I could say that I didn’t know what I was fighting for, or against, but I knew enough. I’m not proud of it.” He said hanging is head in shame. 

“I was the youngest major in the Texas cavalry. All without having seen any real battle.” He continued.

Camila perked up. “I knew that was a Texas accent.” She said smirking at him, gaining a small smile in repose. Leave it to her to try and lighten the mood as soon as it gets dark.

Still, he pushed on, knowing that it was about to become a much darker conversation. “I was riding back to Galveston...after evacuating a column of women and children. When I saw her.” He said dauntingly. “I immediately offered her my aid.” He continued.

“Maria was creating an army. A newborn vampire army.” He clarified. “Our kind are at their strongest in their first year after changing. Their human blood still lingers in their veins and gives them more speed and strength.” He explained.

“Newborn armies were very common in the South, and cost a brutal battles for territory.” He continued, losing himself in the story. “Maria won them all. She was smart, careful. And she had me. I was the second in command. My abilities to control emotions served her well.” He said, looking down to the warm hand he still had clutched in his own, trying to find comfort in her touch. 

“I trained her newborns. An endless occupation since she never let them live beyond their first year.” He said, cringing from the memory. “It was my job to dispose of them.” He said, voice thick with emotion. It pained him to remember what he had done. To remember their pain. “I could feel everything they felt.”

The crease between Camila’s brows deepened. It clearly hurt for him to recall these memories, and she found herself wishing that she could take that pain away. 

“I thought what Maria and I had was love. But I was her puppet. She pulled the strings. I didn't know there was another way. Until I found Alice in 1948. Now she'd seen me coming, of course.” He paused, remembering that this would wouldn’t make much sense to Camila. 

He gathered his thoughts quickly, trying explain the best he could. “She has visions, of possible futures. They change when decisions are made, but she knew when and where to find me.” He smiled slightly. “She saw you, even though she conveniently didn’t warn me.” He explained.

“I don't know what I'd have become without her. I’d done horrible, unspeakable things, and she helped me get past that. My family choses to feed off of animal blood rather than human blood, but it wasn’t always like that for me. I’ve killed innocent people. I’m not a… good person.” He ended his story with a sigh, unsure of how she was feeling. 

Her mind was filled with conflicting emotions that he couldn’t quite place all together. “I completely understand if you want me to leave.” He said, moving to pull his hand away from hers. 

Her grip tightened as her eyes shot up to his. “No, stay. Please.” She muttered. She knew how her reaction must seem. In truth, she had almost expected worse. As bad as his story was, at least he didn’t actively kill people. It was a horrible argument, she knew, but after being given the rest of the weekend to let her mind wander, she had tried to prepare herself for the worst. 

Her silence was agony and he couldn’t help himself when he asked. “Can you please tell me what you’re thinking?”

Camila sighed, bringing her eyes back to his. “I’m not going to sit here and act like what you did wasn’t wrong, because it was. But I’m also not going to actively try and make you feel any worse for it. You’ve had over fifty years to regret what you did, and you clearly do. I’m not going to judge you for something that you wish you could’ve changed, not when I know you’re a good person now.” She said. 

Jasper shook his head in disbelief. How was she this forgiving? It seemed impossible. He was sure she would be disgusted with him, but here she was forgiving him for something he couldn’t even forgive himself for. “How are you not terrified of me?” He asked.

She looked deep into his eyes as she answered. “I’m not scared because I know you won’t do anything to hurt me.” She said simply.

“I could hurt you on accident. Very easily.” He argued, looking ashamed. “I could crush you just by hugging you too tightly. I know you don’t understand fully, but it would be so easy that I actively have to try and not hurt you.” He said, a deep frown on his face.

Camila’s eyebrows furrowed as she brought her free hand down to trace the crescent shaped scars that littered his arm. “I don’t know what to tell you. I trust you, that’s the best answer I can give you, Jasper. You need to try and have trust in yourself.” She answered.

Jasper shook his head, baffled that she had so much trust in him to begin with. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve her. Seeing the sadness still in his eyes, she rushed, trying to find a change of topic to lighten the mood from the darkness that it had reached. “So, if you can manipulate emotions and Alice sees visions of the future, does anyone else in your family have a ‘gift’.” She asked, curiosity peaking once again. 

Jasper was thankful for the change of topic, already feeling himself beginning to spiral from the continuous self hatred. “Yeah, Edward is the only other one in our family. He can, um, read minds… I know it sounds ridiculous.” He said, slightly humiliated at how fictional everything sounded. 

“Oh god. That’s… embarrassing.” She muttered, her mind beginning to wander. Edward had no doubt read her mind and heard her thoughts of Jasper. Those were thoughts she didn’t even want to admit to herself and now he definitely had knew all about them. 

Suddenly her mind went to his exit at lunch. Was that why he had left? Was it something she had thought that had set him off? “What happened with him at lunch today?” She asked.

Rolling his eyes at the memory, Jasper tried to form the most comprehensible explanation. “He’s jealous that I can tell you the truth and he can’t tell Bella.” He said simply. 

“Bella Swan?” Camila asked.

Jasper nodded. “He… has a particular interest in her. He’s been trying to avoid her because he knows that it won’t end well, and he’s jealous that I don’t have to do the same with you.” He explained. 

“Why is it different with me?” She asked, trying to ignore the implication that Jasper had an interest in her.

His eyes trailed across the bare walls of her bedroom, looking anywhere but at her as he continued. “He has a really hard time with the scent of her blood, while yours is different for me.” He said.

“Because of the leukemia?” She asked.

Jasper nodded again. “It’s more dangerous for her than it is for you because of that. It’s hard for him to even be in the same room as her. Either way it would end badly.” He explained.

“End badly how? Surely it could end in more ways than just him killing her right?” She asked. She knew the subject had to be touchy and sensitive, but she couldn’t keep herself from asking.

Here it was. The scariest topic of them all. If he didn’t handle this just right, if he didn’t use the right words, then there went his chance of a future with her. He gulped, mustering the courage to speak. “He could kill her or he could change her. Both which he doesn’t want to do.” 

Camila’s eyed widened. She hadn’t even thought of that. Changing into a vampire. She wasn’t sure why her mind hadn’t gone there, but she hadn’t even considered that a possibility. She couldn’t help it when her mind wandered to what this could mean for her. He had said it like he was trying to imply something else entirely. He had to know the possible endings. Surely Alice had seen. 

“Are there more possible endings for me? Futures where I don’t die from the leukemia?” She asked. She had to know. She had spent a year coming to terms with the fact that her life would be cut short, but now she wasn’t sure. She knew that her illness would in no doubt end up taking her human life, but what if she turned. What if she changed into something else where the cancer didn’t effect her anymore? What if she wasn’t human anymore? She had to know, because suddenly, after a year of withering away, she might have another option. She might have hope.

Jasper turned his eyes back to hers. This was the make it or break it moment. He sucked in a breath, feeling a tightness in his chest regardless of the fact that he didn’t need the oxygen. 

And he spoke. “Yes… Alice has seen it."

Next Chapter

Tag List:

@jasper-the-beloved @parkchaeyoung1997 @bobaopal @izzyisstuff @itsmytimetoodream @soyeonrai @just-browsing101 @demirunner @dkbj14 @iloveramensm @imyelenasexual @bella7866 @ropickle @may-and-lay @breezybeesposts @emily-a13 @mamajaxx2511 @meyrryme @bertholdtswife @swagcopangeloop @idonotcareaboutyouropinion @honey132 @sakurayuki8655-blog @braveangel777 @illogic-ally @obsessed-with-pychopaths @natsvenom @iamveryholyiswear @too-many-fandoms-tbh @loser-syrus

#bella swan #edward cullen #twilight #twilight smut #eventual smut #slow burn #charlie swan #forks washington #jasper hale #jacob black #jasper #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale smut #jasper whitlock #esme cullen #bella cullen #carlisle cullen #alice cullen #jasper hale fluff #jasper hale fic #fluff #eclipse #angst

[elliewilliamsblunt]

(¯`·¸.-~*´¨¯`*·~-. 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕟 𝕚𝕔𝕖 .-~*´¨¯`*·~-.¸·´¯)

⋆ ❆ ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕠𝕠𝕟❆ ⋆

Summary: After a harrowing confrontation with her family, the reader finds herself fleeing from home, seeking refuge on the doorstep of a distant aunt's house. Desperate for a fresh start and eager to break free from the shackles of her past trauma, she dreams of embracing the freedom and joy that adulthood promises. Determined to carve out her own path, she sets her sights on attending a local college, yearning for the chance to rebuild her life on her own terms. Away from her days in Arizona, and cheerleading reader strives forward in the cold unfamiliar country side of Jackson. However, fate takes an unexpected turn as she reluctantly dives into the world of hockey, a sport she vehemently despises…along with her bitchy teammate Ellie…

Notes!: Reader is 19 Ellie is 21. Ellie is dating cat at first, and has a small annoyance with reader. There might be a few parts with Abby tryna hit on reader but I promise is not a three way. This will be slow burn!!!! Because idk eventual smut eats sorry y’all. Also this is poc friendly because duh I am a poc but do correct me if I make some mistakes pls!

TW: self-image issues, identity struggle, trauma, PTSD, religious trauma, homophobia, internal homophobia, eventual smut, drinking, drugs, addiction, abandonment issues, attachment issues.

*Master list*

⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧•𓆩⚝𓆪•⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆ 。°⛧

Chapter One: Jackson is much colder than Arizona…You can already feel homesick…how are you gonna tell your aunt why you’re here… she and her wife definitely don't want some unstable kid on their hands…is bad after everything you still miss Hannah?…this sucks…

Chapter two: fuck hockey…fuck the snow fuck all of it! Especially that Williams chick? Who does she think she is?! It’s not like you actually chose to do this shit…god you miss cheerleading…

Chapter three: she was never a fox…but another lamb awaiting the slaughter. A new sacrifice to his sins…please don't ruin her…

Chapter four: after last weeks shit show maybe some training will do you good…even if it means being Williams understudy….

Chapter five: to be continued…

Etc:…

Tags: @thefrogthatsmokes @vqxen

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #tlou #tlou2 #ellie x fem reader #wlw #angst #ellie tlou #abby anderson #dina tlou #jessie tlou #angst with a happy ending #tlou angst #slow burn #eventual smut #lesbians #slight Abby x reader

[ellionwrites]

1. “You think you’re the only one who can find a date?” Geto paused his inspection of himself to meet Gojo's gaze in the mirror. “Ah, no, sorry. You don't go on dates. You have to know the other person's name for it to count as a date.”

Behind the near black of his sunglasses, Gojo’s eyes widened with exaggerated offense.

“You can’t slut shame anymore, Suguru. It’s 2010,” Gojo teased, as he flopped back on Geto’s bed.

“I’m not slut shaming you. I’m saying you’re not in a position to act like me going on a first date is a scandal."

Gojo tipped his head backwards and leveled Geto with an over-dramatic eye roll. 

He does that to make people notice how pretty his eyes are. 

“It’s not a scandal. It’s…”

Whatever Gojo thought it was was a mystery, because he was uncharacteristically lost for words. 

Despite what Gojo might accuse him of, Geto was not a sex negative person or a prude. 

He was just madly in love with his best-friend-slash-roommate, and every time Satoru stumbled home with his clothes rumpled and his hair fingered through, Geto felt like burning Tokyo to the ground.

It was all the unhinged, unrealistic pining that led Geto to make this plan in the first place.

The Plan: Geto was going to get over his straight, no-strings-sex-only, relationship-phobic best friend.

Step One of The Plan: Find literally anyone else in the entire world that he could think about kissing without wanting to die.

- - - - Read more cut - - - -

A month earlier, he’d gone so far as to get a guy’s phone number. He’d popped into a café after a particularly foul curse he’d absorbed – hoping to wash the taste out of his mouth with tea and a pastry – and the barista had such a stark white shock of messy hair that Geto had done a doubletake to make sure Gojo wasn’t fucking around in a coffee shop on some bizarre mission objective.

The barista had been, admittedly, extremely attractive. His hair was bleached, but it suited him, and he had pleasing, well-proportioned features. Working on pure adrenaline and determination, Geto had asked him for his number. The guy had turned beet red but managed to stutter out his info to Geto.

Almost as soon as Geto left the café, though, the little nits and snags started to pop up in his mind.

Obviously, the eyes were all wrong. The shyness wasn’t right. The smile. His voice. He wasn’t tall enough, and his hands didn’t have that same graceful strength.

It was a laundry list of how fake-Satoru was emphatically not Satoru.

Geto wasn’t even all the way down the block before he deleted the barista’s info from his phone.

Now Geto was on attempt number two: a first date with a man who in absolutely no way resembled Satoru Gojo.

His non-Gojo-ness was exactly what prompted Geto to ask the man at the train station for his number. Shota was short, burly, square-faced, and serious. Geto had only clocked the man’s interest by the overly long looks he’d shot him.

At least I'm good at reading people…

“Hey, you should bring her back here,” Gojo said – pulling Geto’s attention back to the present. “We can watch that new horror movie. Human Earthworm.”

…unlike my oblivious best friend.

“Are you seriously asking to be the third wheel on my date?”

Gojo’s face was upside down - his head practically hanging off the end of Geto’s bed. The odd angle must have been what made Gojo’s smile look off.

“You worried she’ll be more interested in your hot roommate?”

Geto shot him an unamused look.

“I don’t know why anyone agrees to sleep with you,” Geto lied. “Your head’s so big, it seems like a crush risk.”

“They can tell I’m killer in bed,” Gojo smirked. “The risk is worth the reward.”

Geto turned away and pulled at the shirt he was wearing. He didn’t totally love it, but he also didn’t care as much as he should about impressing Shota.

It wasn’t as if Geto was about to fall in love with this train station stranger, but if he at least went through the motions, maybe his brain would get with the program and start considering non-Satoru people as potential romantic interests.

“But, seriously, Suguru,” Gojo said as he folded his hands under his head – making the hem of his shirt ride up. “What’s up with this date? I thought you weren’t into that sort of thing.”

Geto’s eyes drew immediately to the sliver of skin above the waistband of Gojo’s slim-fit black joggers. 

The peek of skin couldn’t have been more than an inch wide, but Geto could see twin ridges of definition. The visual set Geto’s mind racing, thinking about the rest of Gojo’s skin.

Damn him for having a nice body.

“I’m trying to make myself get into it,” Geto said, wholly distracted by seeing Gojo’s abs and trying to not let his body get worked up, as if he were still a horny highschooler.

“Ohhh,” Gojo replied, his tone brightening. “I get it.”

Geto’s stomach flopped over as Satoru sprang up.

Did I just out myself?

“What do you get?”

“Nothing,” Geto said with a toothy grin that implied otherwise. “But - just so you know - I like you the way you are, Suguru.”

The idiot part of Geto’s heart – i.e., the whole of it – thumped hopefully.

“If you don’t want to date anyone, don’t date anyone,” Gojo added, cheerily. “I won’t let anyone talk shit about my best friend. I mean, who cares if you’re a virgin?”

Geto’s idiot heart plopped down into his stomach.

Gojo thought he was a crotchety prude who’d rather spend his whole life celibate than have any fun, and he still definitely had Geto squarely in the friend zone.

Obviously you’re in the friendzone, you idiot. He’s straight.

(Complete fic on AO3)

#satosugu #stsg #satosugu fanfic #gojo x geto #satosugu fic #happy ending #mutual pining #slow burn #eventual smut #idiots in love #canon divergent au #fix it fic #alternating pov #roommates #stsg fic #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #geto suguru #my writing #my fic

[pretendfan]

{Roommates}

My first chaptered Adrian Chase story was first posted on the 28th April last year, so pretty soon it will have been a year since I started writing it but then back in July the fic went on unofficial hiatus!

Ten whole chapters of slow burn, cheesy and cringy nonsense that I loved absolutely every minute of writing.

Oh yeah, and something exciting this way comes….

{stay tuned}

#adrian chase x female reader #adrian chase #freddie stroma #vigilante #peacemaker #adrian chase is a babe #adrian chase fan fics #adrian chase x reader #freddie stroma is too powerful #vigilante x female reader #vigilante x reader #roommates fic #fluff and heart eyes #slow burn to eventual smut #adrian chase fanfiction #adrian chase smut

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

The Babysitter (1)

Meeting The Maximoffs

Wanda Maximoff X Reader

Summary: In need of money and a way to escape the problems at home, you get a job babysitting two lovely boys named Billy and Tommy Maximoff. What happens when you start to feel things you shouldn't for their mother? Will it bloom into love or leave you heartbroken?

The Babysitter Master list | General Master List

A/N- I would just like to say that there will be some sensitive issues in this story such as alcoholism, homophobia, anxiety as well as more mature content such as smut so, if you continue to read this, please consider this warning.

Meeting The Maximoffs

The sound of the bell rang around the room, Professor Stark in front of the first row, reminding everyone in the class to have completed the assignment by Monday before returning to his desk, fingers moving to type away at his keyboard, presumably writing an email about the assignment as people were flooding out of the door, his words falling on deaf ears. You made a mental note to complete the task before grabbing your backpack from the ground, quickly placing all your books and notes away before hurriedly leaving the room and the college campus.

The sound of directions filled your earphones as you looked down at your phone, the screen displaying a map with a blue line to lead you towards your destination of the house you were going to be babysitting at. Your gaze flickered between the screen and your surroundings as you stepped off the bus after thanking the driver, your mouth parting when you turned the corner your phone told you to. The street of houses here had you looking at them in awe, the area clearly wealthy judging by the houses that you felt should be referred to more as mansions.

Your feet carried you to the intended house, your hands nervously putting your phone away and fixing your outfit a little before ringing the bell of the large house. While waiting for someone to answer, your fingers fidgeted with one another as you were unsure of what to do.

Soon, the door swung open to reveal a tall blonde man with striking blue eyes dressed in professional attire, a soft smile that was definitely not genuine covering his face as he offered his hand out to you.

"You must be Y/n," you took his hand, shaking it briefly and trying not to grimace at his firm grip while nodding at his words.

"Yes, that's me sir," you say, noticing how he appreciated the formality, "You must be Mr Jarvis?" He nodded his head and moved to let you into the house, you follow behind him while your eyes scanned the hallway.

A smile took over your face at the sight of a photo of two young boys, both grinning ear to ear in the photo as they were dressed up in Halloween costumes, one in a sky-blue jumper with silver lightning bolts running across it, the other in a navy jumper and red cape flowing behind him. Your eyes flickered over to another photo this time of the two boys and a woman but before you could look any more at it you heard your name being called from another room.

"So," Mr Jarvis started, "I'm not sure how much you have discussed with my wife over the phone, so I'm going to cut to the chase and make sure we're both happy with everything." You sat opposite the man, listening attentively to what he was saying, a little shocked by his forwardness though. "You are to look after the twins, make sure they do any schoolwork, keep them entertained and feed them," the way he was speaking made you think it was something rehearsed, something he didn't actually care about but had to make sure was done, "Be in bed by nine if neither of us are home and that's pretty much it. It will most likely be Monday to Friday as my wife and I both work, and you will need to be on time as my work only lets me out to pick the boys up from school to bring them home. We'll pay you in cash afterwards."

"What time will I need to be here for you to go back to work?" you ask, praying that it fits with your class schedule.

"By four at the latest," he looks down at his watch, noting the time and standing to grab his suit jacket that was draped over the sofa. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work," your eyes widen at his words and follow after him.

"Wait, I'm starting now?" you practically blurt out, your nerves doubling every second he continues to get ready to leave the house.

"Yes," he answers shortly before walking to the bottom of the stairs and calling the twins down, "Tommy, Billy, come down here." The sounds of feet running down the stairs fill your ears as you see the two boys from the photo come into sight. "This is Y/n, your new babysitter so listen to her and behave," he ruffles both of their hair, one of them seeming to not like the action, before turning back to you. "Any issues, call or message Wanda," with that said he makes his way out of the house, the sound of the door shutting echoing inside your head.

At least you were good with kids... right?

With a nervous expression, you look at the boys who have smiles on their faces, pure excitement emitting from one of them, the other clearly more timid than his brother. You crouch down and give him a comforting smile, tilting your head to the side as you smile at the other.

"I'm Y/n," you offer the more confident brother your hand, his smaller one taking a hold of yours and shaking it a little too enthusiastically making you laugh.

"I'm Tommy," he says, teeth showing as he seems to like the idea of having a new babysitter. "This is my brother Billy," you give a soft smile to Billy who gives a small one back.

"Well, how about we have some fun now we've got the house to ourselves," your tone is playful, both of their eyes lighting up at your words.

"Can we be ninjas?" Tommy rushes out, your eyes widening once again. His brother laughs at your shocked and equally confused reaction.

"I..uh.. Sure, we can be ninjas if we want to," you chuckle out, "But after we play, we have to do our schoolwork." They both groan a little, but you raise your eyebrows at them, making them giggle at the fake serious look you were giving them.

An hour ago, if someone told you that you were about to play ninjas with two nine-year-olds you would have simply laughed in their face, now look at you. "Do you want to be a ninja too Billy? Or do you want to be someone else?" His face lights up at your question, your heart melting a little at his shyer nature.

"I can be something else?" He looks to his brother who is already doing karate moves in the air, your gaze following his and mouth tugging up into a smile. You nod at him and wait for him to think of something he wants to be. "Can I be an astronaut?"

"Of course you can," your tone is cheery, and you stand upright, mirroring the position Tommy was in. "So, we have a ninja and an astronaut, what's the first plan of action for tonight?"

"We have to sneak into the living room and defeat the bad guys!" Tommy exclaims, taking his role seriously and crouching down, slowly creeping towards the room. You copy him, watching as Billy also mirrors the action, and gradually make your way into the living room. You have to hold back your laughter when Tommy and Billy both check the corners of the other doors in the house before they leap into the living room. Billy doesn't fight as many bad guys as Tommy, the latter slicing his palm through the air and punching imaginary figures. "We did it!" he cheers, face beaming up at you as he goes to high five you.

"We did," Tommy looks proud of himself while you turn to his brother, "Now, I think it's time for a mini trip to space for our little astronaut over here."

Moving to the middle of the room, the boys either side of you, you bring your hand up to your mouth in the shape of a radio. "Pshhht, this is your captain speaking," chuckles fill the room with the voice you put on as well as the awful static noises you try to make. "Are we Psshhhht," another set of laughter, "Are we ready for take-off?"

"This is astronaut Billy saying he's ready," he says, eyes full of joy while he looks up at you. Tommy also says he's ready and you put your captain's voice again.

"Taking off in 10...9...8...7," the twins joining in with the countdown.

"6...5...4...3...2...1!" At the end of the countdown, you lift Billy off the ground, swaying your body around with him earning a squeal of surprise and excitement. You place him down after a little more flying through space, his brother pretending to steer the spaceship.

"And that concludes our space mission," they both pout a little, trying to make you guilty for ending the fun so soon.

"But we never flew back to earth," Tommy counters, you just shaking your head at them.

"If we all do our schoolwork then maybe we can fly to another planet then back to earth," you reason, the twins practically sprinting to go and get their homework. You sit with them at the table, pulling out your own work to do while they start theirs.

You want to say many, many things about the work Mr Stark gave you to do but refrain from saying them due to two little people sitting near you. Your pen scribbles word after word for your assignment, your gaze occasionally flickering over to the others to make sure they are doing their work and understand it.

"Y/n?" you hear Tommy say, "Can you help me with my maths question?"

"Of course I can," you move your chair so it's next to his, your eyes searching the paper for the question. You notice he's doing fractions and wish your work was like these fraction questions instead of an entire essay on science theories. After a few minutes of explaining, a flash of realisation and understanding washes over his face while he tries another question on his own.

The sound of the door opening catches your attention, your eyes checking your watch to see that it's just gone half five. You wait at the table with the boys who haven't seemed to notice someone's home until she walks in.

Your mouth parts slightly at the sight of the woman, no, the goddess that just walked into the room. A smile that could brighten any room, mesmerising green eyes that practically enchant you and auburn locks cascading down her back with a few framing her face adorns her perfect figure, your mind lost for words at the beauty of this woman. The boys rush over to her, hugging her and letting her lean down to press a small kiss to their foreheads before turning all of her attention to you. The expectant look on her face suggests she asked you a question, making you flush at the intensity of her gaze.

"Uh... pardon?" you say, embarrassed from being too captivated by her to listen. She simply smiles at you, nose scrunching at your nervous state.

"I said 'You must be Y/n, the new babysitter," there's a slight teasing in her tone as she repeats, "It's lovely to finally meet you face to face."

"You too, Mrs Jarvis," you awkwardly say, Tommy and Billy going off to watch Tv as they claim to have finished their work.

"I actually go by Miss Maximoff," she corrects politely, "And no need for formalities, call me Wanda, dear." The way her words have a slight accent to them has your face flushing even more, especially at the term of endearment. "I hope they behaved for you," she says, her head looking over her shoulder at her boys sitting on the sofa, engrossed with the cartoon currently playing.

"They were perfect for me Miss Ma-" Her eyes look over at you, eyebrow raised, "Uh Wanda." Your flustered state must have amused her as she let out an angelic laugh, your mind desperately wishing to hear that sound again. Your gaze travelled to the twins, your mind replaying the surprisingly fun afternoon you had. Stuck in the memory, you don't notice the way Wanda looks at you, an undecipherable glint in her eyes before her words break you out of your thoughts.

"Well thank you for taking such good care of them and somehow managing to get them to do their work," she jokes out, before reaching into her purse to find some cash to pay you. She offers you £50 and your eyes widen at how much she's giving you.

"That's way too much Wanda," you say in disbelief, you would have been happy with £10 never mind fifty. "I only looked after them for two hours," she shakes her head at you dismissively and takes a hold of your hands, placing the money there. You're too busy trying not to panic at the feeling of her hands on yours to stop her from pulling away.

"I can already tell they love you, so please take it," her eyes hopeful that you won't try and refuse once again. "Consider it a starting bonus," she argues, and you open your mouth in protest but close it almost immediately after as you can't think of anything to say to make her change her mind.

"Thank you," you say, looking up with an extremely grateful expression, "This really means a lot to me." You see the questioning look in her eyes and avert your gaze to your watch to see the time. "Um, I'll be going now if that's ok?" you move to the table to pack your books away, trying your hardest to ignore the feeling of her eyes on you.

"Yes, that's fine dear," when you turn you see a soft expression on her face and silently thank her for not pressing any further. "Billy, Tommy, say goodbye to Y/n," she calls, and the boys come rushing towards you with wide eyes.

"But we still have to go to another planet," Billy says, Tommy nodding his head along to what his brother says.

"And we need to get back to earth," Tommy adds, your heart clenching at the worried expressions on their faces. You look over to Wanda who just has a confused but entertained expression on her face. You move closer to them, Wanda even more intrigued by what was happening.

"Pshhht this is your captain speaking," they giggle at the static noise again, Wanda letting out a chuckle at your fake voice, your cheeks flushing as you look back at her. "Mission to Mars will happen on Monday, Pshhhht and mission back to Earth will happen afterwards," the worry washes from both of them at the promise of continuing the game before they rush over to hug your legs.

"Goodbye Y/n," they both say, then walking back to the sofa as you pull your backpack on and walk towards the door with Wanda close behind.

"Thank you once again for taking such good care of them," her voice is gentle as she holds the door open for you.

"It was honestly no problem, Wanda," you step out of the house, turning back to her before leaving properly, "They're amazing kids, you should be really proud of them." A small tint of pink covers her cheeks at your words

"Get home safely Y/n," her fingers brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "I'll see you Monday."

You watch as she shuts the door, a smile on her face, and start to walk down the drive, whispering a small 'See you on Monday' to yourself as your mind fills with thoughts of a certain woman.

---

The journey begins...

I hope you enjoyed :)

Please leave any thoughts/comments/votes <3

Ao3- LoveIsAnImaginaryDagger

Wattpad- LovePersevering2

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #eventual smut #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #marvel fanfiction #babysitter au #slow burn #fluff #so much love #so much fun #wanda fluff #tommy maximoff #billy maximoff

[mermaidgirl30]

✨ Look for the Light Masterlist ✨

Decided to do a mood board for my fic “Look for the Light” 🩵 It’s on A03 as well and has a playlist. This one is a slow burn, action packed, twisty ride. I hope you enjoy! Their relationship is absolutely canon 😍 This is my very first fic, and I put my entire heart and soul into it and have been working on it for six months. I am so over the moon with how well this story came out and am just so proud of it 🥰 This is forever my baby, and I cannot wait to continue my writing and more Joel fics! I hope you enjoy this beautiful work of art I have put together. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated 😊

- Rating: Explicit (18+ only MDNI)

- Word Count: 187,394

- Summary: Aly finds herself trying to escape the Boston QZ. What Aly doesn’t know is Tess is pairing her up with Joel to go on a dangerous mission to find Tommy. Will Aly survive the brooding, moody Joel or will she find herself falling hard for him? (This fic is in both Aly and Joel’s POV)

- Tags: Angst, fluff, smut, slow burn, attempted sexual assault, kidnapping, enemies to lovers, unprotected p in v, gratuitous smut, joel x fem! reader, original character, protective Joel, anxiety, ptsd, sexual tension, mutual pining, eventual smut, younger female/older man, grumpy Joel, death, violence

This is me trying is so Joel coded, and I got a lot of inspiration in this story from this song 🩵

Chapter 1: Introductions

Chapter 2: Escaping

Chapter 3: Knife Practice

Chapter 4: Rock & Roll Hall of Fame

Chapter 5: One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Chapter 6: Panic Attacks and Blue Eyes

Chapter 7: What You Say Goes

Chapter 8: Thunderstorms and Heartbreak

Chapter 9: Safe, In My Arms

Chapter 10: Bow and Arrow Lessons

Chapter 11: Vacancy in a Cabin

Chapter 12: Taken

Chapter 13: David’s Territory

Chapter 14: What Town!

Chapter 15: Held Hostage

Chapter 16: Stay With Me

Chapter 17: Your Hand In Mine

Chapter 18: Slow Dancing In a Burning Room

Chapter 19: Back to the Lodge

Chapter 20: Taking David Down

Chapter 21: Burn It Down, Burn It All Down

Chapter 22: Liars

Chapter 23: Finding Ellie

Chapter 24: Welcome to Jackson

Chapter 25: Slow Hands

Chapter 26: You Are In Love

Chapter 27: Bubble Baths and Sweet Affections

Chapter 28: Guitar Lessons and Heart Strings

Chapter 29: Complications

Chapter 30: Protecting What’s Yours

Chapter 31: This Love

Epilogue : Proposal

Epilogue Pt II: Wedding Day

Soft - Extra little piece I wrote about Joel being in love

Trailer for my series 🥰

#joel miller #joel x you #joel tlou #joel the last of us #tlou fanfiction #joel x female reader #a03 fanfic #joel miller smut #protective joel #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #look for the light #soft joel miller #joel x oc #enemies to lovers #angst with a happy ending #angst #slow burn #eventual smut #joel miller pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #tlou fic #pedrostories #pedrohub #my first story #pedro pascal fandom #feral!joel #soft!joel miller #outbreak!joel

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 2564

—-MDNI—-

A/N: Sorry that this one feels like a bit of a filler - but I’m seriously hoping to get some spicy content out in the next chapter so pls pls stay tuned! Also this is only proof read by myself so pls let me know of any errors!

——————————————————————

Please read the below first:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 4

We spent a few hours researching and looking into the First Blades whereabouts after dinner, Dean and I only making work-related conversations after the pie ordeal. Every now and then when I looked up from the book I was reading I’d catch him looking in my direction, but I was far too tired for any more confrontation - I knew he'd act like an ass if I said anything. I decided to head to bed at around midnight, unable to read more than a few words and actually process said words in my brain. As Sam was still asleep, Dean showed me to my room which was tragically opposite his, and I could only imagine the noises that I’d be hearing coming through that door. Getting ready for bed, I dug out an old boyfriends T-shirt that I was still in possession of and threw it on, making sure to remove all other items of clothing except my panties. I climbed into bed - which was surprisingly more comfortable than I’d anticipated, though the sheets smelt a little musty - and set an alarm on my phone so I could hopefully rise before the boys in the morning. The moment my head hit the pillow, sleep whisked me away, not giving me a chance to think about the wild day I’d had and the total jackass that I’d met.

*

My alarm rang at 5am and I crawled out of bed, dressing in yesterday’s jeans with a clean, low-cut tank top and an open flannel thrown over the top. Pulling on my boots, I ran my fingers through my hair before heading to the en suite bathroom to brush my teeth. As I turned on the tap, the pipes clanged alarmingly as a small stream of water trickled from the faucet, the harsh noise echoing around the small tiled room. “That’s not concerning at all,” I mumbled to myself, the noise finally stopping as I turned the tap off. After I’d finished brushing I headed back into the bedroom to grab my phone before leaving the room to walk wearily to the kitchen. Upon arrival, I instantly made a pot of coffee, the smell alone already helping to blow away the sleepy cobwebs in my mind. I needed food. Something good, like pancakes. So I rummaged around until I found everything I needed, starting to memorise where the brothers kept everything after spending so much time in here yesterday evening. As I whipped up the batter, I threw some bacon in a pan and placed three plates on the table, along with some mugs, the pot of coffee and a big bottle of maple syrup. As soon as I started cooking the batter, it was like I’d used a summoning spell.

“You know when I first woke up I thought that I’d dreamt you up in some sort of weirdly tame nightmare” Dean said in a deep and raspy, fresh-from-sleep tone as he paced into the room and sat at the table, rubbing his eyes.

“Is that your way of saying that I’m your dream girl, Winchester?” I teased as I poured him a mug of coffee. He smirked, not looking up at me.

“You wish darlin’.”

“I really don’t,” I turned back to the stove and flipped the pancake, taking a sip from my own mug.

I’d made a stack of maybe twelve pancakes by the time Sam arrived, greeting me with that warm smile of his as he took a seat opposite Dean.

“Good morning (Y/n), something smells amazing.”

“Good morning Sam,” I smiled back at him before I looked over at Dean, “That’s how you greet someone in the morning Dean, not by telling them they were part of your living nightmare.” Dean shrugged, taking a long drink from his coffee.

Sam gave me an almost apologetic look on his brothers behalf, saying quietly, “as charming as ever then, Dean.” As he sat down I placed the stack of pancakes along with the bacon on the table and both men’s eyes lit up, immediately picking up their cutlery.

“Help yourselves,” I said, taking a seat between them, “just leave a couple for me at least.”

Dean was the first to pile about five onto his plate along with a good portion of the bacon. Without even looking at me he placed two pancakes on my own plate as he reached for the maple syrup. Before I could ask for the bacon, it was Sam who served some up for me before giving himself whatever was left over before handing me the syrup.

“Oh, thanks guys…” I said, a little shocked at how weirdly coordinated they were with that whole task.

“You’re welcome,” they both managed to mumble out through huge mouthfuls of food. We sat in a strangely nice silence for a few minutes, the only noise to be heard was the sounds of breakfast being totally annihilated. Dean was the first to throw his cutlery down with a very satisfied groan. He stretched, his T-shirt rising slightly to show his incredibly toned abdomen.

For fucks sake.

“THAT is what powers a man up in the morning,” he said, his fingers interlaced behind his head.

“Mmm hmm,” was all I managed to get out, finding it annoyingly difficult to look away, let alone to stop my eyes from trailing to where his leather belt hugged his hips and his old denim jeans gripped the thick muscles of his thighs. A few seconds must’ve passed when he cleared his throat and my eyes snapped up to be immediately caught in that moss-green gaze. Shit. I thought maybe for a second that he didn’t notice me looking. But then the corner of his mouth twitched up into that infuriating smirk. Luckily for me, he didn’t say anything, but I watched as he dragged his gaze over my figure, similar to how I did with him. It was Sam who spoke up next and I tore my eyes away, letting out a breath as he saved me from Deans silent interrogation.

“So I read last night about a possible case,” he started to say as he finished chewing the last bit of food on his plate before pushing it away and turning towards us.

“Go on,” Dean said, leaning forwards - finally covering his exposed stomach.

“I think it’s a haunting - some sort of item possession involving a ghost. All of the accidents that have been happening seem to occur either around or directly within an old antique store that’s connected to an old auction house. I think it’s worth a look,” Sam opened his laptop that he’d placed on the seat next to him, showing us all of the research he’d done overnight. Looking at the evidence he’d piled together, I think he was on to something. I nodded.

“Sure, I’m in. I’ll go pack a bag,” I said, standing up and clearing the plates from the table.

“Hang on a second,” Dean spoke up and I immediately knew he was talking to me.

“What?”

“What makes you think you’re coming with us for this?” His brows furrowed slightly.

“Because I never get to work out in the field - Bobby always had me on book duty and I want to see some real hunting in action,” I raised my voice a little starting to get defensive.

“If Bobby never let you do field work then neither are we. You’re staying here,” his tone was stern as he downed the last of the coffee and stood up, towering over me.

“What?!” I almost shouted.

“Dean, I don’t think it’s your place to say what she can and can’t do. I say we let her come along,” Sam intervened, his voice always full of reason and reassurance. I gave him a half smile - a small, ‘thank you for sticking up for me’.

“No way. There’s no way I’m letting Bobby’s girl put herself in danger. The old bastard would find a way to make us pay if anything were to happen to her; even from beyond the grave.”

“I don’t need you taking on his role, Dean. Bobby kept me safe my whole life, just him. I’m sure the pair of you could look out for me no problem on a little ghost trip,” I chided, coming up with a plan to get Dean to agree to me coming.

“(Y/n)s right, this shouldn’t be a hard case for us - if anything this is a small break from the real hard work,” Sam stepped towards Dean, trying to reassure him.

Dean looked from Sam to myself, and when our eyes locked I let a sly smile crawl onto my lips.

“Or maybe Dean Winchester isn’t up to the challenge?” I said, holding my hands up. He frowned, opening his mouth but I spoke again before he could get his words out. “Maybe….,” I stepped towards him, now only a few inches between us, “Dean Winchester is losing his touch, and isn’t the big strong man he used to be and really won’t be able to keep me safe…?” I flashed Dean my best doe eyes and I heard him suck in a breath as I reached forwards and tugged slightly on his T-shirt, making him look down at me with his eyes flicking between mine - dilating a little. I couldn’t help but bite my lip, looking up at him through my lashes and pressing my fingertips to his chest, feeling his heart rate increase with every beat from my touch. I liked to think that I was being very ‘persuasive’.

“I think you’re right (Y/n), I don’t think Dean is up to the task. He’s definitely been losing his touch,” Sam spoke up, catching on with my game and joining in with the verbal attack on his older brother. Deans eyes snapped up to look at Sam and the almost trance-like state he was in before was shattered.

“I have NOT lost my touch!” He snapped. Sam and I looked at each other and exploded into laughing very fake laughs, clapping and wiping away a pretend tear.

“Sure thing ‘sweetheart’,” I said, “prove it - keep me safe.”

“Oh I’ll keep you safe,” Dean took the bait and barged past us, “I’ll keep you safe from your own fucking shadow.”

*

After a few hours of packing and travelling, we arrived in a very well manicured town - even the motel was decent. Upon checking in, we got two rooms; one for me and one for the boys.

“Let’s drop our stuff off, freshen up and meet back here in ten?” Sam said, checking his watch. It was just past 11am.

“Sure, sounds good,” I replied, and Dean just nodded in approval. Their room was further down the corridor than mine, so I watched them leave before entering my room. It was the usual layout: one double bed, cheap linens, an old TV and an under-stocked minibar. At least the decor wasn't completely brown. I dumped my bags on the floor and started to unpack some essentials. I laid my clothes out on the bed - some of these outfits may come in handy later on. For now though, I’ll just stick to what I was already wearing. Lastly I grabbed a tin that was down in the bottom of my duffle - inside was a bunch of fake IDs that Bobby insisted on making me a few years ago. I smiled, remembering him always answering the phone to the Winchesters, pretending to be their FBI boss. I was always dying to know what they were hunting when he got those phone calls. I admired them a lot back then. I shook away the memory and pocketed the IDs, marching to the bathroom and splashing some water on my face before leaving, locking the door behind me.

The boys were already waiting for me.

“You boys ready?” I asked, to which they both nodded. “Where to first?” my question was aimed at Sam, but Dean replied.

“The old antique store just down here on the corner,” he grumbled as we started walking, still unimpressed that I was tagging along. I shot him a look as he practically glared at me from the other side of Sam.

“Get over yourself Dean. I’m along for the ride so deal with it,” I snapped at him, hoping he un-rustles his jimmies quickly. I wasn’t going to let him drag me down, not when I’m excited to actually be on a case. My first ‘out in the field’ case of all things. I wanted this to be a good memory. He scrunched his face up at my words, mouthing an angry ‘I hate you’ at me, to which I flipped him off.

“Guys just behave yourselves!” Sam stopped in his tracks right as we were outside our destination. “We are professionals so we need to act like it. We’re here to do our job,” Sam said in an authoritative voice - which undeniably sounded very attractive on him. I walked a few steps ahead of them and stopped with my hand on the front door to the store.

“Sam’s right. I’m happy to be here helping these people,” I smiled a little too sweetly before throwing a dark look at Dean, “so pull your shit together Dean, you’re making us look bad.” I heard him start to protest before I pushed the door open and walked into the shop, hearing the two brothers scurrying to catch up with me. As we walked in we were greeted by an older gentleman, with a kind face, a neatly trimmed pure white beard and round specs.

“Good morning and welcome to the store,” he said, his voice soft, “Can I help you?” He looked between the three of us. The boys reached for the fake badges, but they were lost for words when I beat them to the chase - obviously being unaware that I’d come prepared. Holding my badge up for the older gent to see, I spoke without missing a beat.

“Hi! Yes you certainly can help me - I’m agent Granger and these,” I jabbed my thumb to Sam and Dean who were standing right behind me, “are agents Crabbe and Goyle. We’ve got some questions for you regarding the strange occurrences going on around here recently.”

“Of course, it’s about time these things were investigated,” the older man turned and beckoned for us to follow, which Sam did immediately. Dean and I were left behind, staring each other down. I could tell he wasn’t happy that I had a badge, and I couldn’t help but smile at that. He scowled.

“This isn’t a fucking game.”

“You’re just mad that I got one up on you so early on,” I grinned up at him, his frown not budging.

“Just don’t do anything stupid,” he huffed.

“I’m safe from doing you then aren’t I?” I couldn’t stop the words from spilling from my lips.

“What?” He looked at me like I’d sprouted a second head, obviously not catching on. I chuckled a little, walking past him to catch up with Sam, leaving him standing there confused.

“Don’t think too hard about it Dean, you might hurt yourself,” I called back over my shoulder.

“Fuck y- hang on- oh you BITCH!” He shouted after me as he caught on finally. I laughed, not looking back.

“Only to you Dean.”

——————————————————————

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Up Next:

Chapter 5

#dean x female!reader #dean winchester x you smut #dean winchester x reader smut #dean x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #dean winchester enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers #eventual smut #slow burn #reader insert

[proxima-writes]

title: miss me in your bones | chapter one

pairing: dad’s best friend!joel miller/female reader

chapter rating: PG13

chapters: 1/?

read on AO3 | masterlist

summary:

When Joel Miller started his own contracting business, he didn’t expect all the administrative tasks that came with it. As a result, his budding business is in desperate need of help.

Good thing his best friend’s daughter is home for the summer from college. And sure, he’s always been attracted to you, but he can keep that under control.

It’s just one summer, right?

author’s note: oh look, another multi-chapter joel miller au. this one will be a slower(er) burn than “cruel summer”, with more angst. i’m in my folklore era, sorry y’all. please consider leaving a comment if you liked the chapter! 💕

content warnings/additional tags: au - no outbreak, age difference (21f and 36m), mutual pining, dad’s best friend!joel, college student!reader, no sarah, brief mention of joel’s attraction to the reader when she’s 17.

“You still need help with your bookkeeping?” Joel’s best friend asks as they sip their beers, basketball game playing on the TV.

Joel has recently branched out and started his own contracting business, a dream he’s had since he started working fresh out of high school. He’s taken a few night classes and earned himself an associates degree in business administration from the community college, in the hopes that it might help him not drive his budding business venture straight into the dirt.

What he wasn’t prepared for was the volume of administrative tasks he’d have to take on. Invoicing, pricing, scheduling, negotiating, and the list keeps growing. Joel just wants to bring a vision to life with his hands. He doesn’t want to have to sit at a computer for hours a day before getting to the fun stuff.

He sighs. “Yeah, I’m drownin’ in all that stuff. Seems like there’s not enough hours in the day to be doin’ the dirty work and get all that shit done, too.”

“Well, my daughter’s comin’ home for the summer. She said she was lookin’ for a job so that she can save up some money before goin’ back to school in the fall. She could help you out. She’s good with computers,” his friend says. Joel swallows.

Joel’s lived next door to you and your dad for four years now. When he first moved in next to the single dad, you were seventeen, getting ready to finish up high school and head off to college. You were your dad’s pride and joy, a sweet girl with brains and beauty that he bragged about constantly. You’d gotten a full academic scholarship to UCLA, no small feat, but you’d been required to spend your first two summers on campus fulfilling a certain number of credits, which meant you hadn't visited home in some time due to the cost.

This also meant Joel got a reprieve from the inappropriate thoughts he’s had about you since the first time he met you. When you’d stood by the door with your dad, welcoming him to the neighborhood, but all he could think about was the curve of your lips as you smiled at him or the way you looked up at him through your lashes when he spoke, hanging on his every word like he was spilling the secrets of the universe.

For his first year in his new house, you were there when he came over on the weekends, watching football with your dad or doing homework at the kitchen table. Joel was there for your graduation party, and sang Happy Birthday as you blew out the candles for your eighteenth year. He helped your dad pack up his truck with your boxes of stuff and waved goodbye from the driveway as you set off to college.

And the whole time he had to beat the thoughts of pressing a hand to your thigh beneath the dining table or pulling you to the side to kiss you senseless. He was equal parts relieved and disappointed when your dad drove you over a thousand miles away.

Your dad is still waiting for an answer, and Joel can’t come up with a good enough reason to say no to his offer of your help. He needs it.

He can keep himself under control for one summer.

“Sure, that would be great,” Joel replies with a strained smile unnoticed by your dad.

“Great! I’ll let her know.”

________

You’re so excited to be home for a whole summer. Between your rigorous course load over the last two years and the cost of housing and travel, you haven’t been able to visit home. Your dad pays for half your housing on top of his own expenses, so you didn’t want to burden him more with travel costs.

“How was your flight, kiddo,” your dad asks as he wraps you in a tight hug.

“Went well enough. Definitely better than driving for two days with some stinky old man,” you tease. He pushes at your shoulder.

Your relationship with your dad is a close one, the result of being the only child to a single parent and all his efforts over the years to make sure he does the best job he can. And while he often had to work overtime, he was always there for you when it mattered and never made you feel like you weren’t loved.

“I’m happy you’re back, squirt. House is too quiet without you,” he says as he pulls away from the pick-up area and rejoins Austin traffic. His words make your heart clench.

“Just another year and I’ll hopefully be able to get a job closer to home,” you tell him.

“With that fancy degree, I’m sure you’ll be able to get any job you want.”

The fancy degree in question is in aerospace engineering. Ever since your dad took you to visit the Kennedy Space Center in Florida on a rare vacation out of the state, you’d been hooked on the idea of helping get rockets to space.

“Hopefully. With all the private space exploration initiatives, should be plenty of jobs to go around. California is fun, but Texas is home.”

He smiles at you, a big wide grin that you’d missed in your time away.

“Listen, you know how you said you wanted to find a job for the summer while you’re home?” He asks. You nod. “Well, Joel started up his own contracting business and is hopin’ to get some help with the administrative work. Schedulin’, contracts, bookkeepin’. I know it’s not what you’re studyin’ or anythin’ but it might be nice to give your brain a break from all that fancy math you do.”

Your stomach erupts in butterflies at just the mention of your dad’s best friend and neighbor, Joel Miller. Ever since you first met when he moved in next door, you’ve been smitten. He’s a bit younger than your dad, somewhere in his mid-thirties while your dad has crossed the threshold to his forties. He’s tall and broad with muscles defined from hard labor, dark curly hair that’s almost always unruly, and kind brown eyes that have started to crinkle in the corners with a life well lived.

He’s so gorgeous it actually hurts.

You’ve spent a fair share of your nights away from home thinking about Joel Miller as you slid a hand into your pajama pants. Did he ever think about you? You doubt it, but a girl could dream.

In your daydreaming, you almost forget to answer your dad. “Oh, uh, sure. I can help out Mr. Miller,” you reply, clearing your throat.

“Thanks, sweetie. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the help.”

________

Joel is cursing up a storm as he tries to clean up the spare room he uses as an office and storage area these days. There’s papers everywhere, supply quotes and contracts and instruction manuals across every surface to the point where the old laptop he uses for work sits buried, battery dead from neglect. He tries to sort everything into a neat pile, but the pile is too big and scatters everywhere once more.

You’re supposed to start working with him at nine this morning. He’s got a consultation scheduled after lunch, giving him plenty of time to show you the nightmare you’re walking into.

There’s a knock at the door and Joel rushes from the back of the house to answer.

You’re standing on his porch, as you have hundreds of times, but after two and a half years away at school, the girl he’d waved goodbye to one August morning has disappeared. Your hair is drastically different and your face has lost the roundness of your teen years, but the smile that stretches your lips is all too familiar.

“Hi, Mr. Miller.”

________

You shift your weight from foot to foot as Joel’s gaze drifts over you, the feel of it hot over your skin. His forehead and neck are dappled with sweat, shirt sticking to his chest in a way that’s so inviting you have to clench your hands into fists at your side to keep from reaching out.

How is it possible he’s gotten more attractive?

“Hey! Welcome home!” Joel finally says, stepping aside and allowing you to cross the threshold.

His house has changed, yet feels overwhelmingly familiar all the same. He’s updated the flooring since you’d left, and you see the gleam of shiny stainless steel appliances in the kitchen.

“You renovated the kitchen?” You ask, stepping down the hall and into the living area to have a closer look. “The counters are pretty.”

He’s replaced the old dark cabinets with natural wood and the laminate counters are now a sparkling white quartz. He stands in the doorway, arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Yep. First project for my portfolio,” he says proudly. “Did the whole thing myself.”

“Impressive.”

You stare at each other for a beat before Joel clears his throat.

“You, uh, you wanna see the office?” He asks.

“Sure.”

He leads you to the back bedroom and pushes the door open. “It’s…kinda a mess.”

“Kinda?” You step inside, eyeing the haphazard piles of paper dubiously. “Mr. Miller, this is a war zone.”

He cringes. “Yeah. S’why I need help,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “Got so caught up with the networkin’ and job bids that I just let all this suffer for it.”

You huff a laugh, dropping your bag to the ground. There’s a desk in the middle of the room, covered in stacks of paper. A laptop sits open, screen dark, amongst the files. A bookshelf along one wall holds a printer and a number of large hardback books pertaining to business administration and general contracting guidelines. Along another wall are stacked boxes. You peek into one and find an array of tile samples.

“Think you can manage?” Joel asks.

You smile at him. “You know me, Mr. Miller. I’ve never backed down from a challenge.”

“Joel. Just…call me Joel.”

“Okay…Joel.”

He smiles, and the way it reaches his eyes makes your heart flutter. You swallow nervously.

This will be fine.

It’s just one summer.

Joel Miller tag list:

@huffle-punk punk @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727 @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfell @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @ghostofjoharvelle @cutesyscreenname @morgaussy @letsgroovetonighttt @endlessthxxghts @fake-bleach @brilliantopposite187 @mattmurdock1021 @str84pedro @justsomeoneovertherainbow @loquaciousferret @milly-louise @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @kirsteng42 @caatheeriinee07 @eternallyvenus @midnightswithdearkatytspb

Join a tag list

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #no use of y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #dbf!joel #age difference #ao3 author #ao3 fic #ao3 #slow burn #eventual smut

[scarredwithcruelintentions]

no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her

A Baldur's Gate 3 Reader Insert Fic by scarredwithcruelintentions

(crossposted on AO3 here)

Rated: E

Pairing: Astarion/Tav, Astarion/Reader

Current W/C: 23,144

Summary:

The memory of clawing his way out of his own grave was among the worst he'd collected over his long life. He'd never imagined being turned would lead to nearly two hundred years of enslavement at the hands of a cruel master; but then again, he'd never even imagined being turned in the first place. All of his days as a spawn had blurred together, so much the same as they were in their infinite torment and shadow.

Until, one day, they weren't.

He knew one thing for certain, though.

If he had to do it all over again, crawl from his grave and live another two centuries of endless night, he would without question.

For after the darkness, he would come to find the light. He would come to find you.

A/N: Hey everyone! I went into Baldur's Gate 3 completely blind, knowing nothing about any of the characters, story, or gameplay. And, of course, I was immediately drawn to Astarion with his striking beauty, heavy flirting and aloof cockiness. Totally let the horny rule my brain (because GODS DAMN he's hot) and pursued a romance with him. And then I learned more about his story as I progressed in the game, and I was completely disgusted with myself. See, I did to Astarion exactly what so many people have done to me: I looked at him as an object, as a pretty piece of arm candy that was happy to cater to my *ahem* more lascivious whims. My heart broke a little (okay, a lot) because I feel much the same way as him about being treated like a piece of meat, something to be consumed and discarded in one fell swoop. I recently started Cognitive Processing Therapy for my trauma, and because I really connected with his character and storyline, I was compelled to write an apology to him in the form of this fic. Equally, in turn, it acts as the love letter to myself in accepting and moving forward from my own traumas. As I'm sure you can tell by now, there is a lot of heavy and uncomfortable subject matter to come in this, and I don't blame anyone for needing to click away. The story is meant to be an exploration of relearning the full spectrum of human(oid) emotions, so it will be a bit of a rollercoaster. Big shoutout to my Skwid Sis for cheerleading and my best friend and partner in crime, Big Daddy E, for reading it out loud with me in character and helping me (try to) edit my unnecessarily verbose run-on sentences. I cherish you two more than words will ever come close to expressing, and just want to say thank you for being patient and understanding with me during this very painful and difficult process. And lastly, I want to thank you, the reader, for taking the time to share in my healing journey by giving this silly lil brainchild of mine a chance. I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I've been enjoying writing it. :) Likes, comments and reblogs much appreciated! Will be updated weekly (unless, yk, I am particularly inspired to share)!

chapter 1: this is a gift

chapter 2: the hunted

chapter 3: a desperate revelation

chapter 4: a reflection in another's eyes

chapter 5: a lament for all things lost

chapter 6: ruination and regret

chapter 7: sorrowful lash

chapter 8: scorched earth and rebirth

#bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion #tav #astarion pov #soft astarion #vampire spawn astarion #astarion is bad at feelings #astarion needs a hug #but so does tav #reader insert #unnamed tav #no use of y/n #afab tav #bard tav #au canon divergence #trauma #angst #emotional manipulation #hurt/comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #slow burn #fluff #eventual smut