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[edb954]

What Once Was!

Synopsis: Don't we love to party?

Johnny Sinclair x Fisher fem reader!!

AU where Johnny is the one who lived instead of Candace and Clairmont is a near cousins. TSITPXWWL AU

Pt 1 - Pt2 - Pt3 - Pt4 - Pt5 - Pt 5.5 - Pt6 - Pt6.5 -

The party was already in full swing when you walked in, music thumping through the walls, bass vibrating under your feet, lights throwing shifting colors across the crowded living room.

The air smelled like a mix of cheap beer, perfume, and salty air carried in through the open back doors that led out to the ice lounge. Someone was shouting over the music, a group was already daring each other to chuck half a bottle of something, and laughter spilt in from every corner.

You slipped through the crowd with the ease of someone who’d done this dance before, smile polite but not too warm, eyes scanning for familiar faces. Drinks were being pressed into hands as fast as they were emptied, couples pressed too close against the walls, and Liam (of course) was holding court near the bar cart, retelling some story about himself like he was the star of the night.

And then there was Johnny.

He stood just off to the side, close enough to take it all in, far enough not to be pulled right into the chaos. His shoulders were relaxed, but his eyes were everywhere, tracing the scene like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to dive in or disappear. You caught the faintest half-smile when he noticed you watching him, and he lifted his cup slightly in acknowledgment.

Earlier, when you’d asked if he was really coming, he’d just shrugged, the answer quiet but certain, “I need it. Just for a few hours. To feel… normal again. And to get out of Beechwood.”

Now, seeing him here, in the thick of it, there was something different in his stance. A boy who used to be the life of these parties, who had slipped out of them for too long, standing back in the middle of it like he was testing the weight of old clothes that somehow still fit.

“Glad you came,” you said when you finally threaded your way over, your voice pitched to be heard above the music.

Johnny’s grin tugged up just slightly, softer than the room deserved. “Yeah. Figured I’d see if I still remember how to do this.”

He glanced past you, nodding toward Liam and Trevor across the room. “Though I’d forgotten how loud some people get.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Trust me, it doesn’t get better.”

He tipped his drink in your direction, almost like a toast. “Then you’ll have to make it worth my while.”

Before you could answer, a voice cut in from behind, Trevor, naturally, leaning in with that too-slick smile. “There you are. We were wondering when you’d show.”

Johnny’s jaw ticked, just enough for you to notice.

You turned toward Trevor with a polite, practiced smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Yeah, we cut it close getting here,” you said, keeping your tone light. “Jeremiah wasn’t even planning on coming, but then decided last minute so he decided to hitch a ride with me. And let me tell you, waiting on him to get ready? That boy takes longer than half the girls I know.”

Liam laughed, leaning in just a little too close as though he thought he’d scored some private joke. “Sounds about right. He’s got the hair for it.”

You shrugged, amused despite yourself, though your gaze slid back to Johnny, who hadn’t moved. He just stood there with that steady, unreadable expression, cup in hand,

Liam jerked his chin toward the back hallway. “We’re running a poker game downstairs. You should come by, Sinclair. High stakes, good whiskey and company.”

“Sorry,” Johnny said evenly, a faint smile at his mouth but no warmth behind it. “Not my thing tonight.”

Trevor raised his brows. “What, scared of losing?”

Johnny’s eyes flicked to him, steady and cool.

“No. Just not interested.” He said it without bite, but with enough finality to close the door.

You stepped in before the silence stretched, tilting your head with a knowing little grin. “Don’t take it personally, boys. Johnny’s got better taste than to get stuck in your smoky basement.”

Trevor’s frown deepened, but you didn’t give him the chance to push. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Johnny shift, his shoulders angling subtly toward you, as if he was choosing your orbit over theirs, grounding himself next to you instead of where they were trying to pull him.

You tipped your chin toward them, your voice edged with just the right touch of sarcasm. “And before you even think of asking me, I’d just end up counting cards by default, and we all know how that would go.”

It wasn’t lost on you that they wouldn’t have asked, not really; their little basement game was more about puffing themselves up and pretending to be mature than welcoming anyone else in, especially a girl. That made your tone all the sharper, a flick of wit you knew would sting just enough.

Before either of them could fire back, you reached behind you, your fingers brushing Johnny’s before slipping into his hand like it was second nature. His palm was warm, your fingers sliding easily into his.

“Come on,” you said, tone light but final as you tugged him toward the kitchen. “Let's get me a beer. We’ll leave you legends to your little casino night.”

Trevor’s mouth opened like he had something to say, but you’d already turned, tugging Johnny with you toward the kitchen. He followed without hesitation, and you could feel the tension leave him in the way his grip settled, steady, certain, like he was glad for the excuse to walk away.

As the music swallowed you both up again, you caught Johnny’s quiet laugh, the sound pitched only for you. “You really don’t give them an inch, do you?”

“Not when I know exactly what they’d do with it,” you replied, smirking back at him as you pulled him deeper into the glow of the party lights.

The bass was still pulsing through the floorboards when you pulled Johnny clear of the hallway crowd and into the kitchen, where someone had set up a makeshift “open bar.” Rows of half-empty bottles lined the counter, cheap vodka, whiskey someone probably stole from their dad, mixers already watered down with melted ice. Red cups stacked in precarious towers, a bowl of lime wedges abandoned near the sink.

Johnny leaned one elbow on the counter, surveying the chaos with that dry half-smile.

“So this is what counts as an open bar now?” he asked, lifting one of the bottles like he was checking if it was even real.

“Hey,” you said with a shrug, reaching for a cup, “it does the job. The key is to mix enough sugar so you can’t taste how bad it actually is.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he poured just a splash into his cup. Then his eyes flicked back to you, playful but edged with curiosity. “So tell me, was that whole ‘I’d count cards’ thing for show, or are you secretly some kind of casino scammer I should be worried about?”

You smirked, tossing a couple of limes into your drink. “If I was, would I really tell you? That defeats the point.”

Johnny tilted his head, considering you with a mock-serious expression. “So that’s a yes.”

You swirled the cup in your hand, letting the ice clink against the plastic, then leaned in with a conspiratorial little smile. “Let’s just say… Allegedly, that when I was little, my favorite movie was The Hangover, even if my mom did not let me watch it.”

That made his brows lift, a laugh already pushing at the edges. You didn’t let him interrupt.

“And I may or may not have gotten curious,” you continued, twirling the cup between your fingers, your tone dripping with mock innocence. “One thing led to another… poker clips, blackjack tutorials, card-counting breakdowns. One rabbit hole later, and next thing I knew, I was thirteen, sitting cross-legged on my bedroom floor, dealing cards to myself at two a.m. Pretending I was some high-roller in Vegas.”

That broke him. Johnny laughed, a belly laugh, shaking his head as he leaned back against the counter. “So you’re telling me, you trained yourself into a pint-sized card shark? All because of The Hangover?”

“Allegedly,” you repeated, lifting a finger in mock warning, though your grin gave you away. “And if anyone asks, I absolutely did not hustle Conrad or Jeremiah out of their allowance once or twice... times a week.”

Johnny snorted, covering his smile with a hand, his eyes bright in the shifting light. “God, that’s ridiculous. You do realize that makes you sound even worse than Liam and Trevor downstairs, right?”

You tilted your chin, feigning offense. “Excuse me, I would never waste my talents on Liam's basement poker table. If I wanted to hustle someone, it’d be in a real casino, under chandeliers, with martinis and a string quartet in the corner.”

Johnny laughed, but it wasn’t dismissive, it was warm, rolling low in his chest. His smile lingered even as it faded, his eyes finding yours in the neon wash of purple light spilling from the living room. For a beat, he just looked at you, the noise of the party humming around like static.

“Of course that’s how your head works,” he said finally, voice soft with a note of wonder. His gaze didn’t waver, something steadier pulling at the edges of it. “I’ve never met anyone who thinks the way you do… and I’m starting to believe I won’t again.”

The words caught you off guard, leaving your breath snagging for a half-second too long. You tried to laugh it off, fingers tightening around your plastic cup, but it was impossible not to feel the weight behind what he said.

“Careful, Sinclair,” you teased, though your voice was quieter than before. “That almost sounded like a compliment.”

“Almost?” His lips twitched, that grin sneaking back, though his eyes stayed serious. “I’ll work on my delivery.”

The doorframe rattled as someone lurched into the kitchen, laughter spilling out before the body even fully appeared. A cup sloshed, beer running down a wrist and dripping onto the tile.

“Seriously? Who builds a bar without enough limes?”

You didn’t even need to look up, you knew that voice anywhere. Jeremiah. Your younger brother, late to everything and somehow still the center of attention once he arrived.

“Speak of the devil,” you muttered, half-amused, half-exasperated as he skidded to a stop, eyes flicking between you and Johnny.

“Heyyy,” Jeremiah grinned, pointing his cup at you like it was a weapon. “There you are. I’ve been looking all over—” He cut himself short, squinting at Johnny. “Wait. Johnny Sinclair, right"

Johnny shifted, straightening his posture, his name on Jeremiah’s lips dragging him into sharper focus.

“Yeah,” he said evenly, giving a short nod. “That’s me.”

Jeremiah’s grin widened, mischief all over his face as he stuck his hand out. “So nice to finally meet my sister’s summer fling.”

The words hit like a slap wrapped in humor, and you nearly choked on your drink.

“Jeremiah!” you hissed, smacking his arm hard enough to make him slosh beer onto the counter.

He only laughed louder, unfazed, wiping his wrist on his shirt. “What? I’m just saying what everybody else is too scared to admit!”

You turned to Johnny with a dramatic roll of your eyes, glaring daggers at your brother. “Don’t listen to him. He was dropped on his head as a baby. Multiple times, clearly.”

Jeremiah staggered back like you’d fired an arrow into his chest, clutching his shirt in mock outrage.

“Wow. My own sister, slandering me in front of company?” His eyes flicked deliberately to Johnny, that mischievous glint never fading. “In front of my new in-law, no less? That’s low, Y/N. Real low.”

“I'm about to buss you in the head,” you snapped, cheeks heating as your hand shot out to shove his arm.

He only laughed, nearly spilling what was left of his drink as he leaned against the counter. “Hey, I’m just saying what I see. Don’t shoot the messenger.”

Johnny’s brow arched, the faintest spark of mischief flickering in his eyes. For a beat, you couldn’t tell if he was going to call Jeremiah out or just let it slide, but then his mouth curved, slow and deliberate, into a smirk.

“Flattering introduction,” he said, voice laced with dry humor, his grin tugging wider as he looked between you and your brother. “Though if it were up to your sister, I’m pretty sure she would’ve picked a better word.”

Jeremiah barked out a laugh, clearly pleased with himself, while you groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “Don’t encourage him, Johnny.”

Your brother only grinned wider and slung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in despite your half-hearted squirm.

“Relax, N/N. I’m just messing with you.” His tone softened as his attention shifted back to Johnny. “Seriously, though. Good to finally meet you, man. Been hearing things.”

Johnny’s eyes eased a little, his posture losing that wary edge, and he gave a small nod. “Good to meet you too.”

Jeremiah flicked the lime into his cup with casual precision, swirling it around before lifting his hand to lick the juice from his finger. His grin stayed loose, but his words came out easy, almost careless.

“I was actually meaning to say—good game today, at the charity match.” He leaned his hip against the counter, cup still in hand. “Shame you didn’t win. Honestly, I was rooting for you guys.”

Johnny’s eyes shifted back onto him, sharp and a little surprised, blue catching in the kitchen’s neon glow. “You were?”

“’Course,” Jeremiah replied easily, shoulders rising in a loose shrug, like it was the most casual thing in the world. “I mean, no offense to Belly and Con, but you two looked like you were actually having fun out there.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the sincerity threaded through the teasing. “Wow. A compliment from Jeremiah Fisher. Someone mark the date.”

Jeremiah rolled his eyes but smirked anyway.

“Don’t get used to it.” He lifted his cup in a half-toast toward Johnny. “Seriously, though, you made it a hell of a game. Way better than it would’ve been otherwise.”

“Appreciate it,” Johnny said simply, his voice steady but softer than before.

Jeremiah clinked his cup against yours with a satisfied grin, the lime bobbing in his drink as he gave you one last, lopsided wink. Then, true to form, he peeled himself off the counter and slipped back into the thick of the party, his laugh swallowed up by the music and chatter.

You let out a long breath, half a laugh, shaking your head. “Well, that was that. Now we just pretend it didn’t happen and move forward.”

Johnny’s lips curved, and he leaned back on the counter, eyes catching yours for just a second longer than necessary.

“Sure,” he said, voice low, amused. “If you say so.”

The bassline carried from the living room into the kitchen, steady and relentless, almost daring you to move with it. You tipped your cup back for one last sip before setting it on the counter, turning to find Johnny watching the doorway like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to step into that crowd or bolt for the exit.

You tilted your head, a mischievous glint catching your eye. “You ever dance at parties?”

Johnny gave a short huff of a laugh, shaking his head.

“I used to....” His shoulders shifted like he wanted to fold in on himself. “Haven’t been in one of these in a while.”

That was all the invitation you needed. You reached out and caught his wrist, firm but not forceful, tugging him a step toward the thrum of purple and gold lights spilling in from the living room.

"Good thing we are in one, right now,” you said, grin tugging at your mouth. “C'mon, you said you wanted to feel normal for a few hours? This is how it works.”

Johnny resisted just enough to make you glance back, but there was no fight in his eyes, just hesitation, a spark of reluctance under the neon glow.

Still, he let you pull him forward, weaving through the bodies until the two of you spilled into the crowd, swallowed by heat and sound.

The beat pulsed through the floor, chest-thudding, impossible to ignore. You turned to him, loosening your hold but not stepping away. “See? No one cares. Everyone’s too busy in their own world.”

Your eyes held his gaze with something half-amused, half-daring. Like you were issuing a challenge without a single word. Then, with that look still locked on him, you started to move.

No choreography, no thought, just a sway of your hips, a turn of your shoulders, the easy kind of movement that said you weren’t afraid to look a little foolish if it meant having fun, you were dancing with just enough playfulness to make it safe for him to join. The grin tugging at your mouth only made it worse, or better.

Johnny didn’t move at first. He stood rooted there, arms crossed, smirk tugging at the edge of his face like he was trying not to give you the satisfaction.

But then your hand brushed his, barely there, the softest graze of skin, and the spark of contact seemed to ripple through him. It wasn’t immediate, but you felt the shift, subtle and cautious at first. His stance eased, shoulders loosening, the tension unraveling inch by inch as he allowed himself to catch the rhythm.

His movements grew less forced, his body loosening until the beat caught him, too. He didn’t quite mirror you, but he found his rhythm alongside yours, falling into sync in a way that felt unpracticed yet strangely natural, as though your bodies had been finding this rhythm together all summer long.

You saw it the way his smirk slowly melted into something unguarded, a half-smile that wasn’t meant for anyone else but you. And then he laughed, a real laugh that burst out of him without restraint.

The party seemed to tilt away. The neon and strobing lights blurred into streaks, the chatter and clinking glasses fading to a dull hum. All that remained was him, Johnny Sinclair, his eyes locked on yours, steady and bright in the shifting glow.

Every step, every brush of your arms, every laugh that tumbled loose felt like its own secret language, one only the two of you could hear through the noise.

The music built around you, and you realized Johnny wasn’t hesitating anymore. He was right there with you, matching your energy, his laughter bubbling up again as the neon lights flickered across his face. His blue eyes caught the kaleidoscope of color, holding your gaze as if he didn’t dare look anywhere else.

The song bled into the next, but by then you were breathless, cheeks hot, laughter bubbling up with every step. You tugged Johnny’s wrist and slipped through the crowd, weaving toward the sliding glass doors. The heavy bass dulled behind you as you pushed them open, the night air cool against your flushed skin.

The backyard was strung with lazy fairy lights, a firepit glowing in the center. A few people were scattered near the pool, their voices a distant murmur, but the far side by the fire was empty. Perfect.

You dropped into one of the low chairs, still catching your breath, and reached for a bottle from the cooler, water, ice-cold and sweating down your palm. Johnny followed, settling across from you with a beer, his shoulders still loose from the dance, eyes glinting with leftover adrenaline.

For a moment, the two of you just chuckled quietly, the kind of laughter that didn’t need a joke behind it. The kind that came from sharing the same rhythm, the same rush.

“Not bad, Sinclair,” you said between sips, tipping your bottle toward him. “For someone who claimed he doesn’t dance.”

Johnny shook his head, grinning into his beer before taking a swig. “I didn’t say I don’t dance. I said I haven’t. Big difference.”

“Mm, sounded like an excuse to me,” you teased, leaning forward toward the fire’s glow. “And now I know better. You’ve got moves, Johnny boy. Hidden talent.”

He laughed at that, tipping his head back, the sound carrying warm in the night air. “Hidden? Please. I was holding back. Didn’t want to make you look bad.”

You gasped in mock offense, tossing a pretzel from the snack bowl at his chest. “Brutal.”

He caught it against his shirt, shaking his head with a quiet laugh. “You started it.”

The fire popped into the dark as more people came outside.

His grin softened into something quieter, eyes catching yours before drifting back to his beer. “It was… fun. More than I thought it’d be.”

You bumped his shoulder with yours, still catching your breath. “That’s the thing about dancing, you stop thinking and just do it. Turns out, you’re actually pretty good at that.”

The firelight danced across Johnny’s face, his laugh still hanging in the air as you tipped back your bottle. The easy back-and-forth between you was just starting to sink into something comfortable when a voice called out from the patio.

“Y/N? Oh my god, is that you?”

You spun toward the sound, eyes widening as recognition hit.

“Ally!!” you gasped, instantly on your feet.

It had been almost a year since you’d last seen her, she’d been off at college, and you’d assumed you wouldn’t cross paths this summer at all.

Glancing back at Johnny, you gave him a quick smile, words tumbling out in a rush. “I’ll be right back.”

He gave a small nod, leaning back on the bench, his bottle resting loosely in his hand, and a smirk tugging faintly at his mouth as if to say go on, I’ll be here.

You crossed the yard in a few strides, nearly tackling Ally in a hug. She let out a squeal, spinning you both around before pulling back with that familiar grin.

���Look at you!” she said, taking you in with mock disbelief. “Same Y/N, just somehow cooler. How does that work?”

You laughed, cheeks aching already from smiling so hard. “Please, I’ve always been cool. Took you going off to college to finally notice.”

“Oh, excuse me. Miss Overachiever thinks she’s been cool all along.” She bumped your shoulder, her teasing warm. “Nah, for real. You look good. Happier, too. Guess I picked the right night to crash the party.”

You and Ally were laughing, catching up on school stories and old neighborhood gossip, when a sudden commotion from across the yard cut through the noise.

A couple of drunk idiots, (boys you vaguely recognized from around Cousins) were trying to shove a massive branch into the fire pit, egged on by a chorus of slurred cheers. The wood caught instantly, flames roaring higher than intended, sparks scattering into the humid night.

“Yo, chill!” someone yelled, but the branch toppled sideways, embers spilling like fireflies across the grass.

People screamed, half in panic, half in delight, as one of the guys kicked at it with his sneaker. Another genius idea followed, dragging the whole smoldering thing toward the pool.

With a loud splash, the branch went under, sending up a hiss of smoke and the sharp tang of burnt wood. The yard filled with the acrid smell, the chaos dissolving into laughter again as the crisis passed.

You shook your head, muttering, “Idiots,” before glancing back toward the firepit, only to frown.

Johnny stood stiffly near the bench where you’d left him, bottle hanging limp in his hand, his face caught in the flicker of firelight. But his eyes, they were locked on the pit, wide and distant, like he wasn’t seeing the yard anymore. His chest rose and fell too fast, the muscles in his jaw tight, his knuckles white around the glass.

The laughter and shouts around you blurred to static. You could see the way his breath stuttered, shallow and uneven, his body taut like it was bracing for something no one else could see.

“Johnny?” you called softly, cautious, stepping toward him. But before your hand could reach his arm, he moved.

It wasn’t a stumble, it was a deliberate escape.

He pushed past the bench and cut through the shadows edging the yard, his pace clipped and uneven. His cup slipped from his hand, forgotten, the beer spilling into the grass. He didn’t look back once.

“Johnny. Wait!” you called again, but the noise swallowed your voice. He didn’t stop.

You followed, weaving around clusters of partygoers until the lights and chatter thinned. He ducked toward the side of the house, past the hedges, and finally into the small shed by the pool, the one stuffed with loungers, chlorine buckets, and deflated floats. The door groaned as he shoved it open and disappeared inside.

Your pulse picked up as you hurried after him, slipping in before the door could bang shut.

The air inside was damp, heavy with the smell of plastic and sun-bleached towels. Moonlight slanted through the slats, striping the cluttered space in pale bands. Johnny was there, pressed against the wall like it was the only thing keeping him upright. One hand gripped the edge of a shelf so tightly his knuckles were bone white. His chest rose and fell too fast, the sound sharp in the cramped room, like every breath was a fight.

“Johnny,” you whispered again, softer now.

He didn’t look at you, his gaze was somewhere else entirely, caught in a memory you couldn’t see. His jaw clenched, shoulders trembling with the effort of holding himself together.

At first, you thought he wasn’t going to speak. But then the words came, low, broken, tumbling out between gasps.

“I killed them,” he muttered, voice cracking on the edges. His eyes weren’t on you, weren’t even in the room, they were somewhere else entirely, locked to a memory only he could see. “Candace… Mirren… Gat… even the dogs. All of them. It’s my fault.”

Your heart lurched, confusion and fear tangling as his words spilled like he couldn’t hold them back anymore.

“I burned it all. I… I murdered them,” His fingers dug harder into the wood, his shoulders trembling with the effort of keeping upright. “If I hadn’t—if I hadn’t—”

“Johnny.”

His gaze was locked on the floor, voice fracturing with every word. “I see it every time—flames, smoke, the dogs—God, the dogs—”

His breath hitched violently, like his lungs couldn’t keep up.

You stepped right into his space, gently cupped his face in both palms, forcing his eyes up to yours. His skin was hot, damp with the heat of panic, jaw tight under your fingers.

“Hey. Look at me,” you said, steady but urgent, tilting his face until his gaze locked on yours. “Right here, Johnny. Not there. You’re not there.”

For a second, his eyes darted everywhere but yours, glassy and far away. Then slowly, like you were pulling him up from underwater, his focus snapped back. His breath was still sharp, but you felt the shift, the tiniest catch as his body registered you, your touch, your voice.

“Breathe with me,” you whispered, anchoring him with every word. “In. Out. That’s it. Stay with me.”

A tremor shivered through him, his jaw clenching tighter, but his breathing shifted, still ragged, but beginning to mirror yours. He dragged in another breath, shaky, and let it out with a low sound, half-gasp, half-sob.

Your thumbs traced small, grounding circles against his skin, and you stayed close, unflinching. “That’s it. Just keep going. You’re not alone, Johnny. I’ve got you.”

His breaths staggered, uneven, but his eyes stayed on yours now, blue and wild but anchored. His hands lifted halfway, like he didn’t know what to do with them, before finally catching against your wrists, holding on. His grip wasn’t strong, but it was desperate, like he needed the contact to prove you were real.

“Good,” you murmured, leaning closer, letting your forehead nearly brush his. “Stay with me, Johnny boy.”

Your thumbs kept that same gentle rhythm on his skin until, slowly, the frantic edge in Johnny’s breathing began to ease. His chest still rose and fell a little too quick, but the worst of the storm had passed; he was here, with you, instead of lost in the smoke and the fire only he could see.

When his gaze finally steadied, you let one hand slide back toward his jaw, brushing lightly along the line of it. His eyes shut then, as if the effort of holding himself together had left him hollow. And before you could even think to move, he dipped forward, his forehead pressing briefly to yours, then lower, until his head rested against your shoulder.

The contact was heavy, weighted not with force but with surrender. His breath still hitched against your collarbone, the faint tremor in his frame betraying how close he’d come to shattering.

You held still, heart hammering, one hand sliding back through his hair while the other rested against the slope of his neck.

“I’ve got you,” you whispered again, this time into his hair.

The silence stretched, filled only by the muffled thump of the party outside and the faint pop of wood cooling in the firepit. Here, inside the cramped shed, it felt like another world entirely.

His head stayed against your shoulder for a long while, breaths shaky, before the words began to slip out, halting at first, then tumbling as if he couldn’t stop them.

“It wasn’t… it wasn’t supposed to go that far,” He shifts, voice low and halting, as though feeling his way forward in darkness.

“ We had a plan. Clairmont, it was supposed to go. We told ourselves we were making a statement, that burning it down was the only way to tear it all down. The walls, the legacy, everything.” His breath stuttered, uneven, but he pressed on as though afraid he’d lose the nerve if he stopped.

“Everyone had a spot. I had the living room, the kitchen, his study. Gat was in the basement. Candace and Mirren… upstairs, on the top floors. We thought we were smart about it. Careful.” His jaw clenched, his voice breaking. “But we weren’t. I wasn’t. I was careless.”

Your hand stayed on his face, steady, your thumb brushing across his cheek as he forced the words out.

“I drank too much that night. Too much to think straight. I was so angry and thought I was being clever, soaking the bookshelves, the sofas, everything, so it would burn faster. Like it was some kind of game.” His chest heaved. “But I didn’t… I didn’t think it through. The fumes, the way the fire would spread. Before I knew it—”

He stopped, shuddering, his breath catching sharp against your shoulder.

“No one was out. They couldn’t get out," His voice cracked, the words unraveling. “I tried—I fucking I tried—but it was too fast. Too much. One second I thought we had time, the next—”

His hands fisted at your sides, knuckles digging like he was bracing himself from collapsing.

“I killed them,” he choked, the confession finally breaking loose. “Candace, Mirren, Gat... All of them. Because I was too drunk, too stupid, too reckless to save anyone.”

The shed was silent but for his gasping breaths, your heartbeat thundering in your ears. The music outside seemed impossibly far away. He stayed pressed against you, shaking, like the weight of those words had ripped something open that he’d been holding shut for far too long.

You drew a slow breath, steadying your own racing pulse, and wrapped your arms around him fully this time, one hand still cupping the back of his head. He stiffened at first, like he wasn’t sure he deserved it, but then the fight bled out of him and he sagged even more into you, trembling.

“Johnny,” you said softly, but firmly, your cheek pressed against his hair. “Listen to me. You didn’t kill them. You didn’t plan for it to happen like that—"

He pushed back from you so suddenly it startled the air between you, his body tense as though your touch burned. His chest heaved, breath breaking unevenly, and when his eyes lifted to meet yours they were a storm, red-rimmed, brimming, guilt tangled with anger that seemed to cut in every direction.

“No,” he said, voice cracking, raw. “Don’t—don’t say that. Don’t tell me it wasn’t me.”

He began to pace, steps short and restless in the cramped shed, running a trembling hand through his curls. His fingers lingered at his scalp before dragging down his face, as though he could scrape the memory out of himself.

“I did this,” he ground out, words rising harsher than before. “I poured the gas on the fucking books. I lit it. I thought—God, I thought it was brave. Tearing it all down, finally taking control.” His voice fractured, bitterness choking him, his hand fisting at his side.

He stopped pacing then, shoulders heaving, eyes glassy under the fractured moonlight spilling through the slats.

“And I was too drunk to know what I was really doing,” he admitted, quieter now, the weight collapsing over him again. His hand dragged once more through his blonde curls, tugging them roughly as though punishing himself. “I set it all on fire.”

Your voice cut through the frantic air like a steady blade, firm but not unkind. You stepped closer, refusing to let him shrink into the dark corners of the shed.

“You were scared,” you said, your hands lifting to frame his face again, grounding him where he stood. “You were hurt. You weren’t a monster, Johnny. You weren’t some murderer.”

His jaw tightened beneath your touch, eyes brimming, but you didn’t waver.

“You made a mistake,” you continued, the words slow, deliberate. “And yes, it was a terrible one. But that doesn’t mean you set out to destroy the people you loved. That’s not who you are.”

You felt his breath shudder out against your palms, uneven and sharp, like he wanted to argue but couldn’t find the words. His curls brushed your fingers as he bowed his head, fighting to hold himself together.

“And you tried to save them,” you pressed on, softer now, coaxing him back. “You said it yourself, you tried. If there had been a chance, if there had been a way, I know you would’ve dragged every single one of them out.”

His eyes finally lifted, blue and broken, searching yours for something solid.

“That doesn’t make you a murderer, Johnny,” you whispered, thumb sweeping away the tear that had slipped loose down his cheek. “That makes you someone who survived something no one should ever have had to survive.”

He shook his head hard, curls falling into his damp eyes, a sound tearing out of him that wasn’t quite a word, closer to a sob breaking loose.

“But they didn’t.” His voice fractured, each name splintering like glass.

“Johnny,” you said, steady even though your heart felt like it was cracking in your chest. “I know. I know they didn’t make it. And I know it kills you that they didn’t. But that doesn’t make it your fault. It doesn’t make you what you think you are.”

His eyes squeezed shut, tears slipping free despite the stubborn set of his jaw. You, once again, brushed them away with your thumbs, grounding him in touch, in voice, in the here and now.

“You loved them,” you whispered, leaning in closer, your forehead almost brushing his. “That’s what matters. That’s who you are. Not what happened that night, and I don't think they would've wanted you blaming yourself for it."

For a long beat, he didn’t answer, just stood there shaking under your hands, breathing like every inhale might split him apart. And then, slowly, like a drowning boy letting himself cling to a lifeline, he leaned forward again, back into you, his fists loosening as his arms came up to hold onto you instead of the ghosts.

You stayed still, anchoring him, fingers threading gently through the curls at the base of his neck. He let out a sound, half sob, half exhale, that made your chest ache, and you only held him tighter.

“I’ve got you,” you murmured again, softer this time, not as a command but as a promise.

That was when he whispered, rough and self-loathing, “I don’t deserve this.”

Your chest ached, but instinct made you pull back and tip his chin just enough so he had to look at you.

“Yeah, well, tough luck. You’re stuck with me anyway,” You gave him a crooked little smile, letting humor slip in like sunlight through the cracks. “Besides, you’re way too tall to collapse on my shoulder and not expect me to do something about it.”

It pulled the tiniest huff of breath from him, not quite a laugh but close, and you seized on it, grinning wider. “Tell you what. How about we ditch this party and go to my house? I’ll even let you pick the snacks. We can watch the universe of Shrek until we pass out.”

His brows knit, but his mouth curved, soft and uncertain, like he wasn’t sure if you were serious.

“Shrek?” he rasped, voice hoarse from everything he’d just spilled.

You nodded solemnly. “The one and only. Nothing heals generational trauma and mild arson guilt like a green ogre and Smash Mouth.”

This time, he really laughed, quiet, raw around the edges, but freer than before. The sound filled the shed, mixing with the faint thump of music outside, and it was like the walls didn’t press so tight anymore.

“Fine, let's go watch Shrek” he said at last, shaking his head, though the ghost of a smile lingered at the corner of his mouth.

You grinned, relief and warmth blooming in your chest as you looped your arm through his. Tugging him gently toward the door, you quipped, “Good, because I would’ve dragged you to my house if I needed to.”

That coaxed another small laugh from him, soft and incredulous, and the sound of it warmed you in a way the shed’s stale air never could.

The shed door creaked as you pushed it open, and the night air met you both as you stepped out, cooler now, carrying the faint salt of the ocean, the distant bass of the party that continued to throb on, muffled laughter and chatter through the dark.

Your shoulder brushed his as you led him across the lawn, past the glowing pool and toward the gate that opened to the quiet street.

Inside Johnny, something else had shifted. The tight coil of grief and guilt hadn’t vanished, he knew it never would, but it had loosened, eased enough to let him draw a deeper breath.

For the first time in a long time, Johnny Sinclair let himself believe in the possibility of breathing again.

And all because of you, who did not let the fire in his head burn him again.

A/N:

Hellooo!!! First, thank you all SOOO much for the support, the reblongs and the comments and asks and all. <3<3<3<3

A bit of angst, my poor Johnny, but he's recovering and I don't think it would've been super realistic to just have him emotionally healed in a year, like, that situation was TRAUMATIC AS HELL. PTSD. Hence the panic attack, hopefully I managed to describe or express it well. If not, I'm really really sorry. Correct me, just please don't be dicks about it.

Also, I did take inspiration from Maxton Hall for the dancing scene. 😁

Anyways hope you enjoyed this chapterrr!!! thank you all so muchhh!!! Just 1 more chapter (I think) until season 2!!!

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[edb954]

Hiiii I saw that you were taking requests for Johnny Sinclair could you pleaseee write an au where he survives 🥹

Ps I loved your other posts 🤭

Alive! Johnny Sinclair x Fisher! Reader Headcons:

Masterlist : Request Info

~~

(A/n: based on a request on this request^^! I’m not the best at headcons but I hope you enjoy it!! This is honestly all I got bc of writers block :/ also no hate towards Conrad or Jeremiah! Also Conrad and Jeremiah + reader are only a year or two apart! Also sorry the bit chaotic spread! And thank you! I’m glad you like my other posts! :D )

Word count: 1.8k

(Warnings: probably not canon but ykyk, AU!Character death!, Trauma bonding, angst, fluff?, typical Tsitp, Typical We were liars stuff, ahole father, reader defends Jere! (If that bothers you!))

Inspo from the lovely: @liarom1ove go check out their tsitp x WWL crossover it’s honestly amazing and one of my favorite Johnny Sinclair reads by far!! <33

~~~~

~ You being Jeremiah's twin

~ You meet each other when Johnnys mother hires you to babysit Johnnys brother Will

~ He's very closed off and keeps you at arms length and really isn't around that much at first but slowly start to appear around more and more and opens up to you

~ He opens up to you about what happened last summer and you open up about your mum Susannah and about your fathers affair #traumabonding

~ You both start catching mutual feelings for each other. From complete strangers to acquaintances to friends to crushing to lovers.

~ He meets Susannah and Laurel when you decide to take Will, Johnny, and his Cousin Mirren's sisters to the boardwalk.

~ You share your first kiss when it's pouring rain outside after a disagreement with his grandfather who is still sharp around the edges.

~During which Johnny breaks down he expects you to leave but you don't and he kisses you to most it would feel out of the blue but for the both of you it felt like it was about time

~ He helps you win the volleyball fundraiser. Where he also met your brothers. Conrad teased you the most about it.

~ Belly begs you to invite him to her birthday dinner.

~ You have a panic attack because of Susannah getting worse the one day you're with him while Will is swimming with his cousins. Him comforting you and it bringing you both a lot closer.

~ He becomes your escort to the ball after your friend leaves you hanging but you find out that it's because of Susannah playing match maker.

~ Both of you making fun of the event but looking absolutely involved with each other.

~The two of you going off together to find and comfort Jeremiah. Where you confess you found out a few months but didn't know how to tell him or ruin summer. He was upset but understood.

~Johnny being the one to pull Jeremiah away from Conrad when they got into it. While your brothers and you look at your mom

~Johnny giving you a kiss goodnight and telling you that if you need him text him or call him.

~ Being long distance being a little difficult at first but you guys communicate with each other everyday whether it's text or call or sometimes letters.

~Will also writes to you or will beg Johnny on the other line to talk to you.

~ At Susanna's funeral Johnny lets you cry in his arms. His mother giving you the biggest hug saying if you need anything to let her know.

~You take sometime apart/ he gives you space unless you need him or want to talk because he knows what it's like to lose a piece of you (his cousins + his best friend Gat)

~He helps you and Jeremiah + Belly try to find Conrad

~Him and his mother being their for you and your brothers during the whole beach house barged

~ Johnny going to the boardwalk with you, your brothers, cousin, Taylor, Steven, and Belly .

~ When you're alone with your brothers while the others are scattered around the laser tag area. Confess that they like Johnny and think he good for you.

~ Johnny letting you cry in his arms while you're on the floor of Susanna's bedroom. Which leads him to spending the night

~Jonny going to his mother and unfortunately his grandfather to see if they could help at all.

~You both sneaking off during the party to sit quietly in the beach. His arm wrapped around you while your head is on his shoulder.

~Johnny standing up to your father when he starts commenting on you

~ You go to the same college as each other and pull a Naley(Yes, one tree hill reference bc my favorite show)

~ The first people you tell are Jeremiah and Belly since you met up for the annual dinner you guys have together to stay close after pushing each other way after Susanna's death.

~Belly is shocked Jeremiah smiled saying that mom always knew and supported

~Jere catching up to  Johnny when he stepped outside to give him the 'brother talk' which Johnny told you about later and the two of you laughed about it and teased him about it

~His mother not approving at first but she knows your the best thing that has happened so she lets it be.

~Will being ecstatic that he can call you family and sees you a lot more.

~His grandfather wary but doesn't say anything straightforward but does in the slightest way approve

~When Jere and Belly announce their engagement you were shocked but was the first one to congratulate and be on board.

~You stand up to your father for degrading Jere and you which leads to you flipping it and announcing that you and Johnny got married showing them your wedding band. Which shuts everyone up as Conrad gave you a look of betrayal. You both leaving before Laurel or your father gives you a lecture.

~You apologise to Johnny for the scene. Johnny laughed a bit saying he's seen worse.

~The two of you making fun of it later at their reactions.

~When you get home Conrad and you get into an argument:

"How could you not tell me you got married?!"

"You haven't showed your face or barely talked to me or Jeremiah for the past 4 years! Every time I called there was some excuse!"

"And I swear to god Conrad if you ruin this for Jerr because you still have feelings for her. I'm done and will never speak to any of you again."you took a moment to think before the realisation dawned on you. "That's why you haven't been around these past 4 years."

"N-n/n I -" Conrad began stuttering.

"I can't believe this Conrad! You had your chance with her and you blew it! You did. And that night in the motel room she heard you but she picked Jeremiah anyways. They've been together and happy." You yelled.

"I needed you! And because of your feelings for Isabel I didn't see you or hear from you for those years! I was alone! Jere was alone!" The argument went further back then just 4 years it's everything you never got to say until now.

~After the argument with Conrad you go back to yours and Johnnys shared apartment. Where you guys talk and cuddle.

~a few days after the restaurant ordeal . You and Johnny met up with Laurel to try to convince her to go.

“Could you give us a moment?” You asked Johnny. He looked at you nodding before leaving a kiss on your forehead.

“Laurel I know. I know that they’re young. And that you don’t want to lose Belly.” You said Laurel looked at you with a sad look.

“But the Wedding is happening and if you aren’t there for them you’re going to regret it.” You said. “And if you want a good example look at Johnny and I. We’ve been married for over a year now. It doesn’t mean we’ve given up our dreams or that it hasn’t been hard because it has.” Laurel nodded as she stared down at her coffee cup.

“Your mom would be proud of you..” She whispered taking her hand out hesitantly to hold yours. You smiled with light tears perking into her eyes. “You both do set a good example it’s just that.”

“I know.” You said “but I’ve never seen either them so happy. I know what my mom said about Conrad but her real sunshine was Jere. If you’d see them the way I have you’d understand why this isn’t just a spur of the moment thing. Just think about it. I know Belly really wants you there.” You said as you grabbed your purse and standing up. “She really misses you Laur. Just sit on it for right now her bridal shower is this Saturday at Taylors house.”

~ At Belly’s bridal shower you were extremely happy that Laurel showed and told Johnny all about it when you saw him.

~ The night of Belly’s & Jeremiahs bachelor & bachelorette party Johnny joins Jeres bachelor party while you join the bachelorette party. (literally both begged you guys to join.)

~You and Taylor help belly see that Jeremiah is the right choice.

~Taylor leaving you and belly alone while you talk to her:

“I’m so sorry n/n-“ Belly cried.

“Hey! Hey! Look at me.” You said turning belly to look at you.

“I know it’s hard seeing Conrad. You have history and you always will apart of you will always care about him. It’s going to be hard seeing him for his absence the past 4 years.” Belly nodded as she listened intently. “But Belly the way you are with Jere I’ve never seen you so happy. I know what happened with Lacey is fucked but you bring out a side of him that’s full of sunshine and everything good. And guess what.” Belly looked at her.

“You’re the same way. The way you light up when you see him. It’s the same light from for the 4 years you’ve been together. And I know it’s scary getting married so young. Believe me.”

“What are you going to tell me that you broke down in that bathroom of the dance club too?” Belly asked as she sniffled making you laugh slightly.

“Not in a club bathroom but when we first moved in with each other. It hit hard. I was sorting through the movies noticing that we didn’t have a lot of the same things. Like we are a bit of the opposite.” You confessed laughing at the memory. Belly laughed as well.

“Over not having the same taste in movies?” Belly asked looking at you.

“Yep. What I’m trying to say everybody gets overwhelmed and freaked out before the day or when things are moving in motion. It’s called pre-wedding nerves and post wedding nerves.” You said Belly nodded pulling you into a hug saying thank you before you guys

~Johnny helps get Jere to bed before meeting you on the beach where you see the big blow out between belly and Conrad

~ leading to you guys going to cuddledown to get away from the chaos that’s going to be hanging over.

~Your solstice being each other.

~ Through the years you celebrate the loved ones you’ve both lost. Johnny tells you more stories about him and his cousins

~ Living happily together as you were welcomed into his family more and he with yours.

[edb954]

four times we almost kissed and the one time we did (kol mikaelson x f!reader)

warnings: slight blood sharing, mostly frusteration

a/n: unfortunately for my sanity, i have fallen in love with kol. why? i couldn't tell you. the actor drives me up a fucking wall. but the character? i am down for bad. so here ya go. feel free to request more kol or over tvdu characters!!

↳ masterlist ↳  want to be shipped with a fic character?

[1] First meeting

Magic has existed in New Orleans for as long as anyone can remember. The prevalence of voodoo-- NOLA's most giant "tourist trap"-- originated in 1791 with enslaved West Africans who moved to Louisiana to grow a community for as many free people of color. That spirit meant that many of its inhabitants descended from that original society or were drawn here for its magical properties. Your family was one of the latter, a bunch of witches seeking solace in a place that nurtured it. Except with magic came strife, and eventually, other creatures came knocking at the door. Enter the Mikaelsons, New Orlean's resident vampire family that was always at the center of whatever drama was happening. Right now, something involving all those magically oriented. 

You made it a point to stay clear of the fight. Not because you didn't care– you did– but because it wasn't your fight to be had. That's how you stayed alive in this neighborhood; you knew where to stick your nose and when to stay clear. Besides, all the commotion with one of the Harvest girls (Cassie, you believe her name was) and the witch's distaste of vampires meant tensions were high. You could help the community from the background anyway; you didn't need to make yourself known.

At least, that's what you hoped. But things rarely turned out how you wanted, and this was one of those times. Walking through the back streets of NOLA was never an excellent idea, but it was shorter, and you just wanted to get to the metaphysical supply store before it closed. You needed more laurel leaves to create protection charms around your house, especially with the uptake in strife in the recent year. 

Which is how you came upon a witch killing three vampires in the alley.

You wanted to turn on your heel and leave, but the witch noticed you before you could. You didn't recognize him, so you were unsure what coven he belonged to. He was tall enough to probably tower over you, with golden curly hair and a jaw sharp enough to cut your fingers if you touched it. He was unbelievably handsome, and you hated that it caught your breath.

"You shouldn't be here, luv," he crooned, his English accent thick. He sauntered down the alley, coming up to you with narrowed eyes. 

"I don't recognize you," you countered, shifting your weight as you crossed your arms. It's best not to let him know that you're flustered.

"New in town," he smiled, a cocky grin that told you that he absolutely knew the effect he had on women. It left a bad taste in your mouth. "New Orleans is a big city; I'm surprised you would know everyone."

"I know witches," you said, peering up at him. 

"Ah, are you a magical thing yourself?"

"What do you think?" You arched a brow. He stepped closer, reaching up to twirl a piece of your hair around his finger. You recoiled slightly but didn't pull back. Never show fear; that's one thing this town taught you. 

"I think you're a pretty young thing," he hummed. "I'm Kol." He peered at you as if waiting for you to offer your name. You didn't. 

"Not interested," you pulled back from him, letting the hair he had touched fall back in front of your face. He stepped back into your space.

"I don't know, darling," he smiled, leaning closer so his breath fanned your face. It was minty like he had just had an Altoid. "I think you're interested." You hated admitting that this tall, handsome stranger (such a cliche) was right. And you really hated that if you leaned up slightly, you could feel the warmth from his lips. He stepped back, though, hands in his pockets. The same hands that had used magic to wrangle the undead life of the vampires behind him. You took that as a sign to start to leave, walking backward before turning on your heel and ignoring the gaze of the witch behind you. 

"Never got your name!" He chimed. You smiled to yourself.

"Figure it out yourself."

[2] Cemetery watch

Disgruntled. That's how you felt. Chaos had grown over the past weeks, but you didn't see Kol again. A sliver of disappointment, as you did find him cute, but also a relief. You know enough flirtatious bastards to not want to add more to your life.

You weren't thinking about him today, though. You were thinking about your grandmother, who lived in the cemetery right outside your block. A popular cemetery for Wiccan rituals, it made sense for your grandma (the high priestess of your family) to be buried there with heavy praise. 

You were laying a combination of roses, lavender, and rosemary for protection when the hair on your neck stood up. Feeling a presence, you soon turn around, making eye contact with the stranger who approached you. 

Definitely not a witch; his aura was too dark for that. He was tall, with tousled brown hair and eyes that lingered on you for far too long. He was cute, though, even if he was dangerous.

"Hello darling," he purrs, stalking closer. 

"Can I help you?" You sigh, crossing your arms as you peer at him with suspicion. He wears a cocky smile and a look that tells you he would love to have a taste.

"Don't remember me? I'm hurt," he puts a hand on his chest, feigning pain. You look at him closely, but the only recognition is in the pet name. Darling. Not many people called you darling. 

"Kol," you said. "You're shorter." His face had a hint of shock before settling into amusement. 

"That was uncalled for," he laughed, walking closer to you. In closer proximity, you could see that he was, in fact, very handsome, and he was definitely aware of that. 

"I'm reiterating my previous question, can I help you?"

"When my family sent me on this mission to track down the 'wisest witch in the quarter,' I was not expecting you," he looked down at you with gold-flecked eyes. "The beautiful girl who wouldn't give me her name. Except now I know it's Y/N."

"I thought you were a witch," you took a hesitant step back, trying to create space. 

"Temporarily," he sighed. "Now I'm back in my original form of vampire." The way he said it gave you pause, as if he was resigned to the fact but not happy about it. You could relate. If you lost your magic, you would be devastated. 

"You said something about your family?" you coughed, changing the subject. 

"There's someone working against them, and we would prefer if they don't kill us," Kol shoved his hands in his pockets, looking up at the clouds above. "People tend to hate us, Mikaelsons."

"You're a Mikaelson?" you hissed. It was because of the Mikaelsons your home was in constant disaster. "Why should I help you? Any of you?"

"For the most part, we don't want to cause trouble. It just tends to find us. Helping eliminate a threat means fewer problems in the quarter," Kol sighed, stepping closer. His fingers brushed your cheek, delicate as if touching the grass in a meadow. "Also, you'd get to spend time with me."

"Why would I want to spend time with you?" you breathed, voice wavering slightly. Curse your damn hormones for being swayed by a vampire of all creatures. His thumb came under your chin, allowing him to bring your face closer to his. Kol smelled like fresh snow and evergreens, and you knew that if he leaned a little bit closer, you wouldn't stop him. In the process, likely offend the ghost of your grandmother who was probably rolling her eyes at you right now. Before you could offend all the ancestors with your choices, Kol stepped back, resuming his cocky grin and leaving your breath lodged in your throat. Without a second thought of the implications, you made your decision.

"Fine, I'll help you."

[3] Late night spell-casting

Late nights in the Mikaelson compound meant one thing. Coffee, and lots of it. 

You made a deal with the Mikaelsons after you agreed to help them that in exchange for your time, they had to buy you cafe drinks whenever you liked it. Elijah was the most taken aback, but Kol chuckled as if he found you amusing. Still, they found it a small price, not expecting how much you valued your drinks. Most nights, it was coffee, sometimes tea, or even hot cocoa. Quite honestly, you just liked having the power to make them run around. 

You sat at one of their many couches, a book of shadows in your lap and a notepad in your hands as you made quick notes about possible spells that could combat the evil at hand. A couple of ideas swam in your head, but you wanted to exhaust your options before risking anyone else's life with a botched spell. Still, you had been at it for hours and started getting sleepy. You yawned, feeling your eyes close slightly. Thankfully, footsteps alerting you to the presence of one of the originals had you sitting up and shaking off your fatigue. Unfortunately, that original was Kol with your coffee order. 

Kol was precisely what you thought he would be. Flirtatious, cocky, impulsive, and too attractive for his own good. You hated when murderers were cute; it made life confusing. There were moments, though, when the two of you were performing recon or pouring over spell books that you saw a side of him that only showed when his guard wasn't up. He was calmer, more academic, and a lot more unsure of himself. The only thing you hated about seeing that side is it made you like him more. 

"How's my witchling doing?" he chimed, dropping off your coffee and settling beside you on the couch. You told him that being called darling felt ridiculous, so instead, he found a new nickname, which was even worse. 

"The usual, I suppose," you yawned again, leaning your head against the back of the couch. 

"Take a break."

"You realize it's your life on the line, right?" you huffed, turning to look at him. 

"My life will always be in danger, Y/N," Kol hummed, taking your books out of your lap with a minor protest from you. "That's not going to change tonight."

"Don't underestimate me," you grabbed your cup, taking a deep sip and looking at him over the lid. 

"I would never underestimate you," he grabbed your coffee and stole a sip himself, earning a growl from you. "Half the things you say shock and confuse me."

"It's my charm."

"Let's do something fun," Kol stood up, trying to drag you with him. "Research is bloody boring."

"We have two very different ideas of 'fun,' Mikaelson," you curled up into a ball on the couch, peering up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. An idea sparked in your head, and you turned a devilish smile to the brunette. "How about tarot cards?"

You found an old deck in the compound, creating a space on the table in the central area to lay out the spread. Even though having your cards would be better, you thought you could probably make do with these. You gave Kol the cards to shuffle and watched as he spent meticulous time connecting with the cards before handing the deck back to you. You started laying out the cards on the table, forming a cross with four cards separate on the side. You tucked your legs underneath you, curling up on the floor so you were huddled by the table. Kol joined you, his back against the couch as he peered at you straightening up the cards. 

"You realize you're going to flip them over, right?"

"Shut up, Mikaelson," you chimed, finishing your organization. He watched you with a small smile, and you made the effort to ignore his stare. "We'll start with your Present card."

“Boring,” Kol sing-songed. "Tell me my future."

"I have to go in order, to give an accurate reading."

"Darling, the cards are already laid out; you can do whatever you want," Kol leaned closer to you, squinting his eyes in amusement. "I live my life in futures; who cares about the past?"

Sighing, you decided to obey the nosey vampire and flip over his cards for Future and Near Future. The two cards revealed were the Lovers and Ace of Cups, respectively. 

"In your Future is a strong romantic relationship," you start, pointing out the Lovers card featuring two swans intertwined. "This correlates to the Ace of Cups, which signifies new beginnings. Since the Ace of Cups is in your near future, you'll likely encounter someone you'll soon develop a deep, long-lasting relationship with." You turn your eyes to Kol, raising an eyebrow. "Shocking, considering your personality."

"It's not that shocking," Kol quipped, leaning closer to you. "We're here, aren't we?"

His pupils were enlarged as he gazed upon you, and his glance to your lips told you exactly where his mind was. You couldn't deny you weren't thinking the same thing. It didn't help that Kol was dangerous in an enticing way. Ignoring all rational thought, you leaned in closer, nudging his nose with yours. Your heart was beating erratically, and you heard the sharp intake of breath he took. His fingers traced up your arm, each finger leaving goosebumps in their wake. What were you doing?

"How's the research going?" a voice called from the hallway. You scooted away immediately, but Kol stayed where he was. His jaw clenched as he suppressed a growl. Freya appeared, not aware of the situation and probably not caring anyway. 

"I have a few ideas," you coughed, taking a deep breath to calm your beating heart. 

"Great, I'd love to hear them so I can stop having stressful dreams," Freya chuckled, moving over to the couch. You sent Kol a glance as you passed your journal to Freya. The look he gave you told you that what started wasn't over. And the worst part was you didn't want it to be over. 

[4] Injured after a fight

A headache. That's what you were nursing. 

A sharp ringing pierced through your ears, the lights above you blurring into a bad abstract painting. A figure appeared above you, and you slowly registered that it was calling your name. You squinted your eyes, the action causing a splitting pain as the shape of Kol formed in front of you. Worry creased his brows, and blood splattered his face. 

"Y/N, Y/N, can you hear me?" Kol asked, cradling your head. You nodded, grabbing his arms to help pull yourself up. Chaos was erupting around you, and the stifling smell of magic was enough to knock you out again. That's what had happened. It was an ambush, and despite your abilities, you were blasted back into a wall, probably with a concussion and broken bones. It was times like this when you were envious of a vampire's healing skills. "I need to get you out of here."

"They need our help," you grimaced, catching Klaus ripping off someone's arms in the background. Kol caught your gaze and bothered with a slight smirk. 

"I'm sure Nik is fully capable of handling himself. Plus, my other siblings are here, and Freya called Vincent. They won't miss us."

"I'll be fine," you tried to say, but it ended in a wheeze as the effort of sitting up caused pain in your lungs. 

"You will not. Can you stand?" Kol watched you struggle for a second before picking you up. In a normal situation, you would've complained, but considering all you felt was ow ow ow ow ow you thought better than to complain. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on tightly as he sped out of the scene and back to the compound. Kol laid you gently on the couch, kneeling before you, biting into his wrist and holding it to your lips. "You need to drink."

"I don't want to be a vampire," you mumbled, brushing a hand across your forehead. Your fingers held blood on them, and you became dizzy with that knowledge.

"I won't let that happen now, drink," Kol insisted, his voice having a hard edge. Considering he was a stubborn bastard, you relented. You hesitantly grabbed his wrist and brought it up to your mouth. The blood slid down your throat cleanly, but you had to suppress the urge to gag anyway since it was blood. You felt your bones click into place, and your headache dull to a memory. You finally looked up, catching Kol's gaze on you. How was it intensely erotic to have someone watch you drink their blood? There must be therapy for issues like this, but you didn't really care. How he looked at you was akin to a predator waiting to devour its next meal. You knew if you let him, he would fulfill every potential vampire fantasy one could have. He touched your cheek, touching your lips where his blood was just a second ago. He pulled away, red coating his fingers, and you suppressed a groan when he sucked the leftover blood. 

"Kol," you whispered, your voice raspy. He sat up at eye level, leaning down as if to kiss you. Of course, things weren't that easy, as his family burst into the compound right at that moment. You wanted to let out a scream of frustration but ended up being caught off guard by Klaus dropping a head by the entryway. 

"Glad to see our little witch is okay," Klaus chimed, looking pretty proud of himself. If Kol were a cartoon character, he'd blow smoke out of his ears. 

"I'm alive," you sighed. Klaus walked over, ignoring his brother's glares, and patted you on the shoulder. That was the closest thing to the affection you were getting from the hybrid. As the rest of the family delved into a conversation about the ambush, you finally got up and looked at the original kneeling on the ground before you. "We'll finish this later," you smiled, pretending to ignore the slight growl that left Kol's mouth as you walked off. 

[5] Evil has passed

"I thought you would've left."

Kol stood in the entryway of his bedroom at the Mikaelson home while you stood (guilty) by his bookshelf. 

"I was returning this book I borrowed from you," you said innocently. Putting the book back on the shelf, you turned to the man before you, trying his best to plaster on a convincing smile. The threat has passed, your job was over, and yet you were melancholy. These people had caused problems throughout your home since they arrived, yet your temporary alliance ending was something of sadness. You were tired of pretending it was for any reason other than Kol. Kol started as an annoying individual who sought to drive you up the wall, but now was someone you saw a kinship with. Your long talks on history and adventures across the globe were moments where you saw his guard fall, and you loved every second of it. It helped that he was pretty to look at. 

"I guess this means goodbye then, doesn't it witchling?" Kol sighed, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. You could swear he sounded disappointed, but you didn't want to get your hopes up. 

"Depends," you crossed your arms. "I could be persuaded to come back."

"Persuaded?" Kol inquired, that mischievous glint in his eyes telling you he would ensure a way to keep you around. "Any particular reason?"

"If someone wanted me around, I guess," you smiled, a tiny grin but good enough for Kol to stroll towards you until he towered over your figure. 

"I'll give you a good reason," Kol murmured, a devilish smirk on his lips. "Something that we kept getting interrupted for in the past." He cupped your face in his hands, lowering his lips so they were a hairsbreadth from yours. 

"Don't be a tease," you breathed. Letting out a dark chuckle, he pressed his lips to yours. It was surprisingly light, not hungry like his usual personality. He tasted like a fresh snowstorm and an evergreen forest, and you know you could get drunk on that alone. Wrapping your arms around his torso, you brought him closer to you, deepening the kiss and earning a light groan from the vampire. Kol's hands tangled in your hair, one of them going to hold your waist. Every touch of his was coldfire, and you were so glad that you were finally alone to burn in him. He tilted your head back, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your throat that caused you let out a moan. He nipped the junction of your neck and shoulder, kissing over it until he was back at your lips again, leaving a searing kiss. Kol pulled away, glancing at you with eyes abysmal. "What took you so long to do that?" you breathed, a grin covering your face as Kol laughed, kissing the corner of your mouth. 

"You're all mine now," Kol smiled, kissing you again. "Always and forever."

[edb954]

[edb954]

(Probably gonna get hate but idgaf)

I honestly don’t get the hate that Jeremiah. First of all he did not cheat on Belly they were BROKEN UP! Honestly even Belly said it and in the flashback they clearly broke up!

Second, Jeremiah is not immature! He is the youngest as am I in my family. Which means he gets pressured to be as great as Conrad by his ass of a Father. And watching Susannah pretty much slowly die in front of him probably gave him a little reason to slack off a bit BUT he has been working hard! Not only does he get pressured by his father but he also gets ignored. His feelings don’t really matter to anyone and gets pushed aside’s which they have portrayed very well in this season.

Third, Susannah was Jeremiah’s person not only his mother but also the only one who was there and cared about him before he started dating Belly. And I quote.

“My father had always loved Conrad better.. but I had mom she’s the only person who ever really saw me..”

Laurel and everyone who’s says Susannah would’ve been just as upset as everyone else no she wouldn’t have:

“You were always the one that has made Belly happy.”

“I’ve always pictured you with one of my boys..”

She would’ve been so disappointed at Laurel and everyone else at that table and absolutely over the moon for Jeremiah and Belly!

I get where Laurel is coming from a bit but Belly is an adult now not a little kid or teen that she can control anymore and I do think that upsets her a LOT and she doesn’t want belly making her mistakes but! Belly is NOT Laurel! And Belly and Jeremiah aren’t going to have kids any time soon either! They have even made it clear that just because they’re getting married it doesn’t mean they are stopping their lives! And if belly does decide to go to Paris I honestly think hands down Jere would be okay with it just like he was okay with it BEFORE!

And I’m not going to lie I was ANTI BELLY! But the more I thought about it and rewatching the show with my mum right before season three came out. I saw just how much love that you see between them. They fit better together than her and Conrad ever did!

And I honestly think it’s ALWAYS been Jeremiah that Belly has loved. Where for Conrad I think she loved the IDEA of him more than actually loving him. Because before they started dating Belly had a picture of what their relationship would like and it didn’t meet that at all when Bonrad were together.

Where with Jeremiah he has always been 100% real with her. Where her imagined relationship with him was actually real! Which is why their relationship is so strong and growing! And a lot healthier than the one with Conrad.

And going back to this quote:

“My father had always loved Conrad better.. but I had mom she’s the only person who ever really saw me..”

In this season I think when he actually proposed in his bedroom ON ONE KNEE AND EVERYTHING TOTALLY VULNERABLE (literally half naked!) said that you and my mom are the only two that actually saw him. And if I remember Belly said the same thing without hesitation!

Their love and how good they are together is proven that they are NOT backing down they love each other so much that they BOTH want to spend the rest of their lives together! THEY DID NOT DESERVE what happened/is happening with their families.

They encourage each other. They do not hold each other back. They are both 100% real with each other. They make each other happy in their own way! And it’s proven that is true. Because when he proposed with ring belly loved it she didn’t diminish him for it or anything because of how much she loves him it didn’t/doesn’t matter how big or expensive the ring is! It’s simple just like belly and her dress as well!

I QUOTE:

“What do you think?” Belly asked Taylor and her mom. With Taylor tearing up a bit saying: “it’s you.” Which belly smiled an actual big smile.

Overall i honestly really like them together and think the mesh extremely well and the love is clearly their since season 1.

~~~~~



[edb954]

I’ve been having MAJOR writers block so PLEASE send requests!!

(My list of Characters I do:Henry Creel, Steve Harrington, Coriolanus Snow, Finnick Odair, Stiles Stilinski, Barty Crouch Jr, Conrad Fisher, And Johnny Sinclair(and possibly Haymitch as well!))

[edb954]

I would've married you...

summary: Johnny's funeral

pairing: Johnny Sinclair x reader

contains/warnings: suicidal ideation, religious afterlife discussion and general religious titbits, Blake Beaumont, weed mention, SA (non consensual peck on the lips), violence (blake gets what he deserves 🤷‍♀️), depressive episode, not proofread by anyone but me, improper grammar at points, basically all the "I'm no expert writer" warnings 😭

a/n: I teared up bad 5 times writing this. (updated how many times I cried as I wrote more of this btw) how do people write this all the time? This got way darker than I meant it to. I'm sorry 😭😭

This was the summer of funerals. First, Tipper's, now Johnny's, then Gat's off somewhere else, then Mirren's. Carrie suggested a combined funeral. The Liars would want to be together, even in mourning and death. But between Cadence still being in the hospital and not able to attend and Gat's mother wanting his funeral separate, away from Beechwood or Martha's Vineyard and all the rich stuck up white people that came with it, 3 funerals were arranged. All within a month. None of them would want a fall funeral. They lived and died by summer. You'd thought about visiting Cadence in the hospital, but Penny had said she was out like a light most of the day anyway and didn't know if your presence would be too good for her recovery. You agreed. Also, because of the fact that you couldn't get over that she lived. Why her? Why not Johnny? None of their lives were worth anymore than the others, so why did she get to live? It was only when your mother reminded you of the horror Cadence was experiencing with her brain injury, survivors guilt when she came around to it, that you backed off.

You had attended Tipper's funeral with Johnny back in June. Open casket and she looked so peaceful. "Maybe she's young again," Mirren said when pondering what Tipper's heaven was like. You wondered that for Johnny and Mirren and Gat now. Could they be younger? Maybe Gat would like that, maybe Mirren, but not Johnny. Johnny loved being a teenage boy. His 'sexual prime' as he called it. "I think a person's sexual prime is in their early 20s" you told him. "Even better!" he responded. You still couldn't fathom Johnny's death. You were still in denial or numbness, you didn't really know, you just knew you hurt. A lot. How could he just be gone? He'd invited you to Beechwood that summer but you claimed staying home was more important, you should've gone, maybe you could've saved them, or at least him, or something! instead of just sitting at home waiting for the next time he went into town to text you back!

"You look good, little man," you tell Will as he fiddled with his tie, ghosting your hand of his gelled hair, in the gest of ruffling it up. Johnny would always do that with him. But actually mess his hair up. And get a chuckle out of Will getting upset by it.

"Thanks," Will says simply. He had been struggling with words since Johnny's death. Especially conversations with you. But you were each other's best comfort since Carrie had just been floating around and Ed was trying his best to do it all. Rewatching movies in silence or replaying levels of Will's favourite video game together was your most common pass time now. Will glances up at you beside him from the knot of his tie. "You look pretty," he comments and you give a half hearted smile. Your black dress one Johnny bought for you months ago, walking you to the counter by your shoulders in a hurry as you tried to say it was too expensive. Hair and makeup done how Johnny used to like it. Black heels that made Johnny comment on how good they made your asset look before you swatted his arm for being crude. "I think mom tied my tie wrong," Will says, eyes going crossed as he kept staring down at it. You bend down to take a look, taking the knot in your hand and twisting it to figure out what she messed up on.

"I'll fix it, bud," you say as you pull it loose, undoing it, and Will nods, holding his head up high to give you space to flip up his collar and redo it. It's the most up you'd seen him since Johnny died.

"How did you learn how to tie a tie?" Will asks, having never seen a girl have to tie a tie.

"Watching Johnny," you answer, the memory hurting but it was good to discuss it, at least, that's what your therapist said. Your mother worried you'd be a suicide risk and, beside checking on you a million times a day like the second you got the chance you'd try to end it, got you a therapist. Carrie reached out and said they could pay for it. You spent most days at their place anyway. You'd become like her daughter. She always had been excited for you to become her daughter in law. You wrap the end of his tie around before pulling it through the loop it created and tightening it.

"Done!" you said as you pulled Will's collar back down.

"Thanks," he replied, hands coming up to check it as you stood back up, hand resting on his shoulder as Carrie came into the living room.

"We should all head out now. We'll be late otherwise," Carrie said in a cracking voice, tucking her clutch under her arm as she rushes out the door, clearly unable to stay still and not wanting people to notice how red and puffy her face was from crying. Your hand moved to Will's back, giving it a pat as you spoke.

"Let's go, bud," you said, trying to keep the energy up to avoid breaking before the funeral. It's what Johnny would want. Will nods and you start heading out.

You avoid eye contact with everyone as you arrive. Or, rather, they avoid eye contact with you, all staring at you but eyes darting away or covering their view the moment you looked back. "Poor girl," "That was Johnny's girlfriend," "She's such a pretty young girl, I'm sure she'll find someone else," "It's so unfortunate that she's here with no one else her age," You overheard woman whisper to their friends or husbands who couldn't care less. "Was Johnny's girlfriend" like you broke up. You didn't. He died. And you didn't want someone else. You had what you wanted, you had your soulmate, you had all that other half bullshit. He died.

Everyone knew Johnny burned to death in old Clairmont. A casket implied there was a body to bury. You didn't even have his ashes. You would joke about smoking a bunch of weed and claiming those ashes were Johnny, but that was Johnny's sense of humour. And he wasn't here to laugh. Just his picture. And that's all that'd be lowered into the ground with that casket. It was haunting you as the high pitched hymns kept dimly dressed people silent. The name "Jonathan Sinclair Dennis" was everywhere it could be and you just wanted to strike it out and write "Johnny" above it. It's what Johnny would've wanted too. Will's hand finds yours and squeezes it, causing you to look to him on your right. Glassy eyes and quivering bottom lip, you take your hand back and wrap that arm around him, the other too, to hold him close, choking back tears yourself.

"I miss him, y/n," Will quietly cries and your eyes water further, but you couldn't have mascara puddled under your eyes when you spoke.

"Me too, buddy," you whisper, rubbing a hand up and down his arm. Any louder and your voice would be cracking like Carrie's earlier.

"You don't think he's in hell, do you?" Will asks, looking up to your face, voice so small it made your heart chip. You shake your head. Sure, he drank, he smoked, he engaged in premarital sex, he swore, he wasn't always ever so loving to thy neighbour, but he wasn't a bad person. Any God worth worshipping would know that and not further punish a boy who didn't even get to say goodbye to his family. That was bad enough.

"Of course not, Wills," you assure him. "He's up there with Mirren and Gat, and Franklin and Eleanor, and I'm sure he has a picture of you up on his wall."

"He has a room up in heaven?" Will questions, not knowing what to picture heaven as. You shrug. You wanted to nod, be more comforting, but you truly knew as much as Will when it came to this.

"Yeah, or a tennis court, or just a place to party forever," you suggest, trying to convince Will that Johnny wasn't just gone. You never really believed much in an afterlife before Johnny died. Desperate people find faith or whatever that phrase was. Will nods and focuses back to the front, your arms still around him while Carrie softly sobbed beside you both. Will's hand finds Carrie's, holding it as tight as he could.

"I'd now like to ask y/n y/l/n to come up and say a few words," the priest says, looking to you and you nod, hands fidgetingly folding and unfolding the piece of paper you wrote your speech on. You'd never heard an eulogy before and hope you did it justice for Johnny. Heels clacking against the floorboard of the chapel's aisle are the only noise beside Carrie's shuddering breaths as you make your way up, everyone's eyes on you. You stand behind the podium and flatten out your prepared words.

"I prepared a few words and didn't have much time to practice so excuse my lack of eye contact with the crowd," you say quietly as you adjust the microphone. You were unfixably heartbroken, but you didn't forget public speaking skills. You take a deep breath and stare up at the back of the church, eyes only flicking down to read. "Funerals are a time to mourn, but Johnny wasn't that type. He wouldn't want you all to be sad today but rather celebrate his life. He was a fun, charming, albeit reckless at points, 16 year old boy with a loving mother and adoring younger brother. He had a future in tennis and brought a playful nature to everything he did. He loved a lot of things, a lot I shouldn't say in a church, but knowing how much I loved him, how we all loved him, I know he didn't die with hate in his heart." You make it through the rest of the eulogy, grappling with tears the whole time but finally ending with, "So, to Johnny, who isn't here in this stupid casket," you say, folding your speech back up and gesturing to the casket that felt like it was burning holes into your skin, "you'll always be here," you say, placing your left hand over your heart, knowing how cheesy it sounded but the tears in your eyes didn't care, you were upset, "love, y/n, mom, and Will." You end, hurrying off and down the aisle as tears fell down your cheeks. You sped outside and take a deep breath before you break down, crying so loud you're sure they could hear you but you didn't care, you let yourself cry. Your head was throbbing, eyes red, stomach upset when 2 arms wrapped around you.

"Shh, it's okay," a familiar voice said, trying to console you it seemed but it made your skin crawl. You push him back, stepping away from him. You should've known.

"Is your thing just harassing Sinclairs at funerals or is it just a pass time?" you defensively, rhetorically, question Blake, who stood with his hands up in a mock surrender.

"Whooa, relax, I'm just trying to make you feel better," he said so douchey-ly and you were starting to really understand how someone so sad, not violent, could punch someone's face in. "Besides, you're not a Sinclair, you never married," he points out, another dagger to the heart about it, tapping his left ring finger.

"I'm an honorary Sinclair," you retort.

"Rigghhhttt, so Mirren would be your "honorary" cousin?" he inquired. God, he wasn't going to try and flex he sexted with a dead Sinclair girl, was he?

"Cousin in law technically but that doesn't matter, she's dead, it's none of your business, go", you demanded. Blake lets out a low whistle at your defiance given the situation.

"Why should I? I deserve to be here like I deserved to be at Tipper's funeral," Blake tries to rationale.

"You didn't deserve to be there either! and especially not now! Johnny hated you and he'd hate you're here right now," you state.

"But I thought you said he didn't die with hate in his heart, baby," Blake says, just to see you boil inside. Johnny called you baby. Your lips twitch downwards. "Look, I'm not here for no reason, just soaking in their positive memory till, say, somethings get leaked." Your face drops. The sexting with Mirren. The video of Johnny.

"That's child pornography and defamation of a dead man," you tell him firmly, truly feeling angrier than you think you ever had in your life.

"Not defamation if there's a video," Blake says. That was true. Johnny did do it. But it was settled.

"Alright, then a hate campaign against a dead boy, you proud of yourself?"

"For getting a Sinclair to send me nudes? hell yeah," Blakes answers smugly and you'd never wanted to kill someone more in your life. So you got physical. You push Blake up against the side of the church, knowing God wouldn't approve, and get in his face.

"That's child fucking pornography of a dead girl. Leak it and say goodbye to everything."

"What? like you've had to?" You had to give it to him; he knew where to hit. But you couldn't contain it anymore.

"I will fucking kill you right now, don't fucking te-"

"Like boyfriend like girlfriend," He taunts and you can't stop your fist flying into his face. "Bitch!" he shouts, pushing you away, his hand coming up to feel his bleeding lip. You get back in his face.

"Harris paid to keep it quiet the first time. he'll do it a second time, and a third if he fucking has to. you piece of shit!" you scream in his face and he just smirks. He leans his face closer to yours before pressing a kiss to your lips, smudging his blood on your lip. You pull back in horror, wiping your lip of his blood, eyes widen. Another guy just put his lips to yours at your boyfriend's funeral. After a solid 30 seconds of staring at his shit eating grin, you lose it. You grab his shoulders before kneeing up into his groin and pushing him down on the ground and stomping into his gut with your heel. You pull them off to jump on his face, hearing a very clear "Crack!" with his incredibly loud bellow in pain before Carrie's yelp at the sight. You look down at Blake beneath you before grabbing your heels and running off, dress hiked up. You reach the doc by bare foot and hop on the shuttle, unable to sit still the short ride before leaping off. You bolt to the family doc and quickly strip off your dress and toss your heels behind you as you run to cannonball in. You want to stay under there. In the water, holding your breath till you passed out and sink to the bottom. Run to Johnny in heaven and tell him about what happened through tears while he got you to breathe and held you tight. But you couldn't. You resurface with a gasp and push your hair back from your face with both hands. He'd been gone long enough you should stop expecting him to be places, but you couldn't. You looked to your right, expecting him there, shaking his wet curls like a dog, making you shield your eyes, but he wasn't. It hit you again and you really let yourself cry. Screaming from your gut as you wailed, wishing somehow the fire could've taken you too, or that God would just take pity on you now and kill you in mercy. But he didn’t. If there was a God, he had a cruel sense of humour. Bess, surprisingly, went after you. Mirren's death really put things in perspective for her. You crawl your way to the sand, wanting nothing more than the beach to swallow you whole.

"Y/N!" Bess calls out and you don't even look over to her as she swiftly trots over. It's not like you were dating her child who died, why would she care about you? She drops down beside you, her hand rubbing up and down your back as you hunch over crying till that funeral food Carrie advised you to eat climbed up your sore throat in an acidic stew.

"Why didn't He take me too?!" you cry and you can see the look of heartbreak on her face but you're too upset to care. She wraps her arms around you, holding you as you further cry, wrapped around her.

"I know, sweetie, I know," she says, keeping herself together barely to comfort you.

Bess helped you back up to Cuddledown and helped you clean up, handing you pyjamas Mirren had left there for you to change into after a bath. She kept knocking on the door during your bath, presumably to make you sure you hadn't drowned yourself, which you did consider, and asking if you were okay. You'd grumble and she figured as much. You stare at yourself in the mirror for too long. Your eyes started to look different sizes and lips too small for your face when Bess knocked on the door. You open it, wrapped in a towel and she hands you your bra and underwear.

"I put your delicates in the dryer so you could put them back on," she says, giving you the small pile. You give a half smile.

"Thanks," you say simply, self conscious now that she'd seen you in such a state earlier. She shakes her head.

"it's alright, and," she starts, "I want you to know it'll be okay. I know everyone says that, but I don't lie about it. It will suck for a long time. but, I know Johnny will be so proud with what you do with yourself, honey." Your eyes water again before you blink them back.

"I'm-I'm going to get dressed," you say, gesturing back into the bathroom at the pyjamas that sat on the bench. Bess nods.

"Yeah, alright, just, call if you need me," she says and you nod. "We're family after all, kiddy."

It was clear enough that Johnny's death had solidified you in the Sinclair family, despite the lack of a connection now.

You sat on the couch at Red Gate with Will, eating ice cream from the tub in your criss-cross leg lap as Ed consoled Carrie in the other room. The movie you put on was probably doing very little to console you, but it was familiar, so you rewatched it. The female lead says yes and she lives happily ever after with the male lead. Where was the part where he dies in a house fire before they get to that part?

"Would you have married Johnny?" Will asks, so innocently curious not knowing how bad just the thought hurt.

"We had baby names picked out, Will," you answer blandly, the emotion of it enough to cause another breakdown.

"Really?" he questions and you nod, "what were they?"

"We liked Katarina, Kat, for a girl, and Micheal, Mike, for a boy," you answer, voice deattached as you speak. You didn't want to come off as rude or uncaring, it was the opposite, you just couldn't cope feeling it all, all the time. Will nods.

"Johnny would've been a fun dad," Will remarks and you nod.

"The favourite parent"

"I would be a good uncle!" Will says brighter, like trying to convince you.

"You would've been, Wills," you agree, "would've been" killing you to say. You hated the reality, you hated reality, you hated your life now.

Curled up in Johnny's bed, staring at the old tennis rackets on his wall, Mirren's top discarded for his sweatshirt, tears roll onto his pillow. He was meant to be here, holding you, your head on his chest. His pillow still faintly smelling like him barely sufficed.

Living at Red Gate actually wasn't half bad. Besides Johnny's lacking presence, it was nice to not have to do anything yourself. Besides having to call home minimum once a week, and Carrie updated your mother every day anyway, you didn't have to do anything. Throwing a tennis ball up and down on Johnny's bed, in his clothes, staring out the window, eating nothing all day except what Carrie or Will carried up and sat on your bed and ate with you, or gorging yourself on the seemingly endless treats and snacks in the kitchen. Beechwood had its own kind of charm in the fall, different from summer.

"We're going into town, do you want to come?" Carrie ducked her head into Johnny's/your room to ask, Ed standing behind her. They knew the answer would be no. You shake your head.

"I'm okay," you mumble. It felt like the only thing you said these days. It's all anyone really asked anyway. Video calls with your therapist were bleak. "Are you having thoughts of harming yourself or others?" "I want to die but I'm not going to do anything about it." Carrie nods and closes the door behind her.

Carrie and Ed arrived home while you showered, sat on the floor tiles as the water cascaded over you. You came back to the bed with a small box on it.

From: Carrie (and Ed and Will. Signed off permission by Harris, dont worry)

To: y/n 'honorary Sinclair' y/l/n

The card atop the small navy box read. You open it to find a ring. Blue aquamarine gemstone with a gold band. Capital J engraved in the band. You slip it on your left ring finger before curling back up in bed. It'd be better from Johnny, but his spirit would come to be enough.

[edb954]

I need an imagine with Johnny Sinclair please, I'm obsessed with him

[edb954]

Can I request a fluffy Steve Harrington x fem! reader long oneshot where it’s Steve’s Birthday and reader surprises Steve with a present and in the present is a sonogram photo and a positive pregnancy test?

Surprise! (Steve Harrington x Reader)

(Summary Up above!!<3)

Masterlist : Request Info

(A/n: I am so sorry it took so long I've been busy and working on my other works and finally! Had the inspiration for your request!!)

Word Count: 925

(Warnings!: readers pregnant!, Fluff, swearing?¿)

~~

  Today was a very VERY special day not just because it is your boyfriend's birthday but it's also the day that you are going to tell him that he's going to be a father. You have put it off long enough and figured to do it as his present.. well one of them...

  Y/n and Steve have talked about the future before and she does know he wants a big loving family. Most of that is definitely because of your little brother Dustin and his friends that you both came to love even if they annoyed the both of you at times because of being stuck babysitting or well watching after them. But not a surprise since the two of you can be very protective and know how to keep them safe.

  Y/n heard the door open signaling that Steve was home. She quickly put the sonogram picture, the pregnancy test, and the little onesie into that already decorated box before closing it and sitting it on the table with the rest of his presents from you, friends, and family. Before bringing the plates filled with his favorite meal to the table.

"Hey beautiful." Steve said smiling from the entryway to the kitchen/dinning room. Y/n turned around smiling coming up to give him a big ole kiss.

"Happy Birthday, Stevie." She said making him smile. "I made your favorite. I figured we'd eat then you can open your presents."

"That sounds great." Steve said as he gave her another kiss before they sat down for dinner.

  After you ate and talked about each other's day as well as cleaned up dinner. It was time for the presents.

"Alright! Now thats done come open your presents." Y/n said grabbing his hand in hers pulling him to the table which he gladly accepted.

"I'm surprised your brother not here."Steve said as he took his seat which made her chuckle as she pulled the one that had your big surprise in it onto your lap.

"He was but I had to kick him out. I just wanted it to be the two of us and plus I have a little surprise for you.." She said, Steve raised his eyebrows.

"You have to wait until you open your other presents!" She said before he could ask. Steve let out a chuckle nodding his head.

"Yes, dear." Before he started opening his presents.

  He started with his mother's present which was a neck tie and his favorite hair spray. Even if he didn't really speak to her she still knows her son.

  Then it was Nancy and Jonathan's which was a new jacket similar to the one he loves so much. Then, Max, Will, Lucas, Mike, and Eleven all came together to get him a record and a CD of his favorite artist which he loved and appreciated. And you both could definitely tell Max was behind that gift idea because at the bottom next to the CD was a comic book.

  Then Dustin who of course knowing their silly brotherly relationship got him a gag gift to remember old times which was the bat w/nails spiked through it and a stuffed crocheted plush of newt the demogorgan. Which made him laugh and shake his head.

Lastly was Robins gift which was a customised shirt that said 'Dingis' with a small heart next to it. Which made Y/n laugh and Steve roll his eyes as he laughed as well.

"So what is the big surprise that I had to wait til the end?" Steve asked curiously as he turned his gaze towards her. Which made her more nervous however she swallowed it down a bit.

"Open this and.. find out." She said as she slid over the present she had gotten him nervously.

  Steve gave her a strange look before taking off the ribbon and opening it seeing the sonogram test and onsie. Y/n watched nervously as his gaze turned back to her.

"Are you serious?" He asked as he held up the sonogram. She nodded hesitantly.

  Steve let out a sigh as his lips turned into a wide large smile. As he brought her into a bone crushing embrace.

"I'm going to be a father!" He shouted making her laugh of relief. He pulled away bring her into a kiss and grabbing her face gently. "I love you so much."

"I love you too." She replied with a smile. "Happy birthday daddy."

"The best gift ever." Steve shouted making her giggle with tears of joy and relief. Steve smiled even bigger if that was possible before bring her back into a hug picking her up and spinning her around.

  It was pure joy in this moment. Steve had always wanted a family one that he would love unconditionally and not ignore or neglect or abuse like his parents. A family of his own he could love and would love him just as much. Now after everything they’ve been through it’s happening and not just with anyone with his light that guide him out of his old asshole ways. It’s what he would dream about a girl he would love unconditionally as she did him and a family.

It truly was the best birthday present ever. A dream come…

[edb954]

Cardew Reader! Masterlist (Mini series)

Masterlist : Request Info

(A/n: welcome to my Masterlist for the mini Cardew reader! Series I have going!! OG Masterlist listed and request info! Requests are always opened!)

Chapters/Parts:

1. Our Dirty Little Secret

2. Rumor Has it

3.

4.

5.

Headcons

Cardew reader HC

[edb954]

Invisible String (Coriolanus Snow x reader)

(Summary: It's turns out you weren't the only thing Coriolanus left behind when he went after the songbird..)

Masterlist : Request Info

Word Count: 2.2k

(A/n: very loosely based on the song Invisible string by Taylor Swift..)

(Warnings: Heartbreak, Angst angst angst!, Coriolanus, indications of cheating, indications of smut, angst w/ happy ending)

"Invisible string tying you and me.."

~~~

"Coriolanus? What are you doing here?" Y/n asked even though she knew the reason.

"They're sending me to District 12 as a Peacekeeper for 20years.. I cheated in the games.." Coriolanus said, as he came into her bedroom.

"To be with Lucy Gray?" Y/n asked, Coriolanus looked at her with a look she didn't mind to pay any attention too. "Dean Highbottom told me you were going to 8.. I just didn't think you'd use the only money you had to go after her.."

"N/n it's not like that." Coriolanus said trying to grab her but she pulled back fighting back the tears that are already forming in her eyes.

"I-I think you should go.." Y/n said as tears flowed down her cheeks. Coriolanus tried reaching out again.

"And... us?" He asked as his Adam's apple bobbed slightly.

"I think you already made that decision.. their is no us... not anymore." She said as her voice cracked as she gave her necklace to him before she turned around avoiding his gaze. Coriolanus eyes softened sadly as he stared down at the necklace and back at her.

"N/n-" "please just go Coriolanus... go be with Lucy Gray.."

Coriolanus looked at her one last time before leaving with his bag and her necklace that he gave her when they were 16 clutched in hand as he left.

"Did you tell him?" A voice asked from your connected bathroom.

"N-no." Y/n said Turing towards Tigris who had came right before Coriolanus showed up. Tears streaming down her face as she shook her head.

"H-he's going to go be with Lucy Gray." She said in a barely a whisper.

  Tigris gave her a sad apologetic look before going up to her and pulling her into a hug brushing her hand through her hair as she let the girl sob in her arms.

~~~

(Few months later...)

~~~

"Hey baby look who came to visit? Auntie Tigris." Y/n whispered as she smiled down at her 3 month old baby girl with Snow White hair. Tigris gave a small smile looking at Aelia.

"What's wrong?" Y/n asked sensing the off ness in Tigris as she held Aelia in her arms rocking her gently.

"He's back n/n.." Tigris said Y/n froze.

"He's been back for a-awhile.." y/n let out a sigh as she laid a now sleeping Aelia back in her crib.

"I know." Y/n said. Tigris eyebrows stitched together in confusion.

"Clemmie and Lyssie stopped by and told me." Y/n said. Tigris expression turned to guilt stitched on her face. "It's okay. I'm not mad for you not telling me honestly I think I'd rather have not known.."

"I haven't told him anything.." Tigris informed.

"I know and thank you for that." Y/n said giving her a smile.

"It's... for the best n/n.."Tigris said giving her a sad smile. "He's just not the same.."

"I know.." Y/n said as she looked down at her sleeping daughter.

~~~

"Wait you don't know?" Festus asked confused. Coriolanus rolled his eyes at the ridiculous shit he was talking about now.

"Know what Festus?" Coriolanus asked as his cold eyes narrowing towards the irritating guy.

"Y/n had a baby." Festus whispered. Coriolanus froze his jaw locking in place as he processed the information.

"Festus!" Lyssie whispered shouted as she scolded him giving his arm a slap.

"What?! I thought he knew." Festus stammered back as guilt creeped onto his face.

Coriolanus turned ignoring their banter and continued his walk and a million thoughts running through his mind as he took his leave of absence.

~~~

Tigris came home to find Coriolanus in her almost empty room and she froze as he held a photograph in his hand.

"You knew.." Coriolanus said as he turned towards his cousin with the picture of y/n holding Aelia when she was just born.

Y/n had insisted on Tigris having a photo of one of the sonogram's as well as a photograph of you her and Aelia. Let's just say a lot of photos for Tigris to know she's still a very big part of her life and always will be.

"Tell me Tigris." Coriolanus snapped. Tigris eyes widened bewildered at his cold tone but yet not surprised.

"Yes, Coriolanus I knew. That day you went over to see her I was there because I had put the pieces together and confronted her about it." Tigris snapped back having enough of her cousins antics after everything. Coriolanus paled a bit and his mask slipped.

"You heard.." "Of course I heard. I saw it as well with you and Lucy Gray." Tigris confessed. Coriolanus let out a loud scoff.

"You could've told me!" Coriolanus snapped raising his voice out in irritation.

"It's wasn't my place to tell you but I'm not surprised she didn't tell you." Tigris clapped back as she took the photo and her last bag that was left besides the furniture she wasn't taking and left.

"If you want to see her. Ask one of her friends because she deserves better than what you've become.." Tigris said with tears perking in her eyes as she placed a photo on the table before she gave her cousin one last look before she left.

Coriolanus stood there looking at the photo Tigris had left of Y/n holding their daughter and smiling. He banged the table out of frustration as he held the photo with a deafening grip as unwanted tears slipped out of his eyes as he raked a hand through his hair.

It's was Sejanus than Lucy Gray and now Y/n and his daughter he never knew she was even pregnant with. But the difference was that Sejanus and the songbird were, where his rose and his daughter were still here...

~~~

  It was late evening and y/n had just put Aelia back to bed from the storm outside that had awakened her when she suddenly heard a series of knocks on her apartment door that she had gotten after she was kicked out for having a child too young. She opened the door and froze upon seeing the one person she didn't.

  Coriolanus Snow the man she once loved so deeply and the father of their child standing in front of her soaking wet from the rain on her door step.

"W-what are you doing here Coriolanus.." Y/n asked, even though she probably already knew why he was here.

"You know why." Coriolanus said softly looking at her with soft sad eyes. Those eyes she couldn't ever say no too not even now..

"J-just come in and we'll talk..." She said feeling both aggravated with herself for letting him in and guilt as she moved out the way to let him in as he came in.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, looking at her.

  Y/n sighed as she went over to the couch as she ran a hair through her hair as she sat down. Coriolanus following her sitting next to her. Tears started perking up.

"You went after her Coriolanus. You cheated on me with her.. and I found out I was pregnant.. so I had a thought that I'd never see you again." She said as tears streamed down her face. Coriolanus jaw clenched.

"When did you find out? How long did you know before that night?" Coriolanus questioned. Y/n swallowed the guilt adverting her gaze from him.

"I-I found out. When the rebels attacked.." She whispered.

Both of them knew that she hadn't been feeling well the past few weeks and they both knew that day all to well especially Coriolanus because instead of saving and protecting her he chose Lucy Gray which resulted in almost losing her.

"You should've told me! Or written me Y/n! And not have kept my-our child away from me!" Coriolanus said his voice raising in frustration and anger.

"You don't think I tried?" Y/n spat back through tears. Coriolanus looked at her confused. "That night when you went to 'zoo' for the last time I saw you kiss her but I thought no it must've been a mistake and every time I tried your mind was on Lucy Gray and winning."

Coriolanus eyes stitched with guilt and realisation

"I-I felt like I didn't matter to you anymore.. and then that night happened before you left. Then not even a day later I was kicked out."

Coriolanus looked at her and before she could move away from him their lips met in a deep longing kiss and her back was pushed against the couch before it could go further. Y/n heard a cry that made snap back to reality and you pushed Coriolanus off and got up before stopping.

"D-do you want to meet her..." Y/n asked him. He froze looking at her.

"It's a girl.." He asked.

  She nodded hesitatingly holding her hand out for him to take which he did after straightening himself up before he followed her with their fingers interlocked to the room where their daughter laid.

  Y/n let go of his hand going over to the crib. Coriolanus eyes following her as he froze in the doorway as he took in the sights of the room his eyes scanning the baby items and photos before landing on you.

"Hey sh.. baby mamas here." She whispered at Aelia as she picked her up and rocked her gently.

  He quietly came over to her side looking down at their daughter who was reaching a hand out to her mother.

"Do you want to hold her?" Y/n whispered. Coriolanus nodded as she carefully passed her over to him but still keeping one hand on her. Coriolanus stared down at their daughter in awe as he took in her features.

"Whats her name?" Coriolanus asked swallowing thickly. Y/n smiled slightly as her finger was still in Aelias hold.

"Aelia." Y/n smiled slightly.

"The sun." Coriolanus said smiling down at her.

"She was my sun.. my light after.. everything.." Y/n whispered looking at their baby girl who was now back asleep in her father's arms. Coriolanus eyes gazed at her.

"We should let her sleep now.." Y/n said, Coriolanus nodded as he gave their daughter back to her. As Y/n put Aelia back into her crib. They left her room.

"She's beautiful, n/n" Coriolanus said as they stepped out of the room. Y/n said nothing as wrapped her arms around herself.

"It's late.. you can stay the night if you want.." She said as she turned to face him.

Y/n wasn't sure if it was from seeing him with their daughter or what happened before but there was that pool again that was lost during their time apart that was back at full force but Coriolanus must have felt it too as he pulled her into a deep longing passionate kiss as their lips moved sync as she moved them towards her bedroom taking them into a blissful night.

~~~

“Mummy!” A voice shouted behind y/n as she turned around in her husband’s embrace to their daughter as she came running into her mother’s arms.

“Why don’t you say congratulations daddy!” She told her.

After that night, her and Coriolanus gotten back together and were married two years later. Now celebrating Coriolanus winning the presidency.

“Con-congratulations daddy!” Aelia said with a big smile handing him the rose that was pinned to her mother’s hair making it fall slightly. Coriolanus huffed out a laugh before taking it and placing a kiss on her forehead. Just then Grandma’am and Tigris came up with big smiles on their faces.

“Congratulations Coryo. I always knew you could do it.” Tigris said as she gave her cousin a hug.

“I am so proud of you!” His Grandma’am said with a huge smile that reached her eyes as she took his hands in hers. Coriolanus gave her a boyish grin.

“Why don’t I take her off your hands for a bit.” Tigris said gesturing to Aelia. “Give you some privacy.”

Y/n smiled as she handed Aelia over to her aunt. Who willingly went over to her aunt as she reached out her arms. Before they walked back to the room of celebration Tigris gave you a wink and a soft reassuring smile.

“We are so proud of you.” Y/n whispered. “And I have something to tell you..” Coriolanus eyes flickered his eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion.

“I was going to tell you earlier but I wanted to be sure..” She said. Coriolanus eyes glossed over with realisation.

“Your pregnant..” He asked. She nodded slightly. Coriolanus smiled before pulling her in and giving her a deep passionate kiss.

“Guess it’s a big night for you President Snow.” She said giving him a teasing smile before he pulled her back into the kiss.

This was how it was supposed to be. This is what they dreamed of back in the academy.. what Coriolanus saw his future.. him, Coriolanus Snow President of Panem with you, Y/n L/n his First Lady, mother of his children, his wife. You were always meant to be his, just how he was always meant to be yours with the invisible string tying you to him.

[edb954]

Haven’t you heard the rumors? (Coriolanus Snow x Cardew! Reader) (Part 2)

(Summary: You and Coriolanus have been sneaking around behind Livias back and rumors about him spotting another girl has uprised..)

Masterlist : Request Info : Series Masterlist

Word Count:871

(A/n: Part two of our Dirty Little Secret. Honestly might make a mini series or just keep doing a Cardew reader x Coriolanus..)

(Warnings!:Sexual themes, rumors/gossip, Coriolanus being Coriolanus, mentions of not eating properly but no ED!!)

~~~~

It was just a matter of time before rumors would start. It was clear among the elite capital and your old friends from the academy as well as your colleagues to find out that your parents have set up Livia and Coriolanus in an arranged marriage. It also doesn’t help that Livia has a big mouth making it clear to everyone that she’s going to be the future First Lady. And as that date your parents set gets closer more and more media appeared…

"Haven't you heard the rumors?" One of your colleagues said. Y/n furrowed her brows.

"What rumors?" She asked. Her other colleague who was also a friend from the academy Lyssie turned to her leaning over to her. Putting the file infront of your face for privacy.

"Theirs a rumor going around that Coriolanus is scouting another woman over than your sister." She whispered. Y/n went pale, her breath hitching in her throat Lyssie gave her a concerned look. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, just need to grab Lunch." Y/n said, Lyssie still giving her a wary look. Y/n sighed. "I skipped Dinner last night and Breakfast this morning because of work and Campaign's."

  Lyssie nodded knowing that it was not Y/ns first time skipping a few meals. "Let me know when you get back and n/n start taking better care of yourself."

"I will." Y/n smiled as she left.

~~~

"Hello, I was wondering if Mr.Snow was here?" Y/n asked the receptionist at the front desk of Coriolanus office. She looked up at her.

"Oh yes. Ms. Cardew he is. I'm sure I don't need to pry in your business. I was just about to take my lunch. You can just go right in." The slightly older woman said giving y/n a tight smile. She nodded walking down the hall to his office and knocking on the door before walking in.

"Preshia I told you I'm bus-" "I'm not her."

Coriolanus looked up from his desk at you with a smirk. Y/n rolled her eyes slightly as she came over to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

"To what do I owe this pleasure my dear?" Coriolanus asked leaning against his desk.

"We need to talk.." She said as she sat in front of his desk. He gave her a look with his eye brow raise.

"About?" He said huffing as he came to the front of his desk so he was right in front of you.

"The rumors." Y/n said. "If Livia or my parents find out I'm dead."

"They won't find out.." He said.

"Really? I got a call from Livia earlier screaming her bloody head off at me." She said with an annoyed tone.

"I've been trying to break it off with your fucking sister but your parents"

"Won't take no for an answer. I know." Y/n let out a deep sigh as her head fell into her hands. Coriolanus smirked pushing off his desk he was leaning against bringing her towards him as she stood.

"How about I relieve you from your stress.." He said into her ear as he kissed down her neck pushing her jacket off. Y/n let out a sigh.

"What about-" "They will all be at lunch for another hour and they know not to disturb me. Besides do you really want me to stop?" He replied as his hand slipped further up and between her legs underneath her skirt.

She let out a soft moan in response his smirk widened as he turned her around and leaned her over the desk with her back against it as he was on top shuffling his pants and bunching up her skirt pushing her red lace panties aside.

  His head in the crook of her neck leaving dark blue and purple love bites as his rough hands that gripped her wrists and then her things sure to leave marks. As her head fell back and back arched.

~~~

  After about two hours or so, Y/n fixed her skirt and shirt as well as her hair and makeup to the best of her capability as Coriolanus fixed his pants and hair. Putting on your jacket and finishing the last two buttons on her shirt. Coriolanus lips met hers once again.

"Don't worry about the rumors my little dove." He whispered, brushing her hair back. She smiled and nodded.

"I'll see you later." Y/n said before giving him one last kiss before pulling away as Coriolanus straightened himself as she left.

  To her surprise nobody was back from their Lunch but a few unsuspecting people that were just getting back as you sneaked out going back to your workplace to finish up before meeting up with Coriolanus at his apartment.

[edb954]

I bow down to you for this ABSOLUTE MASTERPIECE 🫶🏻

Shadows of Affection

warnings: physical abuse

slow burn Coriolanus Snow x reader, slight Felix Ravinstill x reader

Chapter 17: Welcome Home

The air outside Heavensbee Hall was dense and stale, the kind of post-Games stillness that settled heavy on your shoulders. You stood under the glow of the overhead lights, blinking slowly while the doors behind you hissed shut and locked from the inside. The sky was washed in that low amber hue that meant night wasn’t far, but neither was sleep. You were too wired to be tired and too hollow to be fully awake.

You waited on the curb, arms crossed tightly over your chest—not for warmth, but to hold yourself together. The night had stretched long and strange, You didn’t want to think about any of it, but your brain kept looping the whole thing like this Game that never really ended.

Your driver arrived in a sleek black vehicle that glided to a stop with mechanical ease. He stepped out just long enough to open the rear door for you. You slid in, the door shutting behind you with a soft click, a sound that somehow managed to feel final.

He glanced at you through the rearview mirror. “Where to?”

You opened your mouth, then paused.

Where to.

You hadn’t thought about that.

Home was the obvious answer. You hadn’t been back since the day before. But the idea of walking through that door and facing your Quincy—or worse, the long echoing silence of a house full of absence—made your skin itch.

Then there was Felix.

That morning, when you’d stirred awake in the low amber light of his room, clothed in his sleep wear and vaguely sore from falling asleep curled too tightly into him, he’d tucked your hair behind your ear and said quietly, “Call me when you’re done. I want to see you.”

He hadn’t said it like a request.

He hadn’t said please.

And now that moment hung around your shoulders, sticky with expectation.

But the truth was—you didn’t want to go back to him. Not tonight.

Not because he’d done something wrong. Not really. But because the weight of him was beginning to exhaust you. 

So, after too long a silence, you cleared your throat.

“Take me home.”

The driver nodded once, shifted the car into gear, and pulled away from the Hall.

You watched the city roll by in fractured light. The Capitol after dark looked like a fever dream: soft shadows cast by bright neon, buildings gleaming like wet teeth, corners of alleys lit by the blue flash of a Peacekeeper patrol. Somewhere behind it all, the Games kept ticking forward, even as bodies fell.

After a few blocks, you reached for your phone and stared at the screen. No messages. No missed calls. Felix was waiting on you to do the reaching. You sighed, unlocked the screen, and tapped his contact.

He picked up after one ring.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and already familiar in your ear. “You’re done?”

“I am,” you said, staring at your own reflection in the dark window.

A beat.

“So?” he prompted, with an edge of warmth that was also an edge of pressure. “Are you coming back?”

You exhaled slowly, heart kicking up despite yourself. “I think I’m going to head home tonight.”

Silence. Not loud, just long.

“Seriously?”

“I haven’t been home in over a day,” you said. “I need to check in. My parents…”

“Your parents haven’t cared what time you came home since you were fifteen.”

You closed your eyes, counted to two, then said, “It’s not about them. It’s about me. I need—space.”

“You had space. You left this morning.”

“I didn’t leave,” you said. “I went to school.”

“And now you’re actively choosing not to come back.”

There it was.

You weren’t going to fight him. Not really. But you also weren’t going to pretend this was fine.

“I’m not obligated to,” you said quietly.

“I didn’t say you were.”

“No,” you murmured, “but you wanted me to feel like I was.”

Another pause. You could hear the way he shifted in his chair—could practically see it: him rising, hand running through his hair, lips tight as if biting back a hundred things.

“You make it really hard to care about you,” he said finally.

Your stomach twisted, but you didn’t let it show in your voice. “Then maybe don’t.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Neither is this.”

He scoffed quietly. “You act like I’m this—this emotional burden or something, just because I want to see you.”

You didn’t answer right away.

Finally: “I didn’t say you were a burden. But you don’t make it easy to be close to you, either. Everything with you feels like a transaction I’m failing at.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” he snapped. “You want people to care, but only on your terms. And when they don’t read your mind, it’s their fault for trying too hard.”

The words hit harder than you expected. And maybe because they weren’t entirely wrong, they stuck.

You pulled the phone away from your ear just long enough to look at it, like it might give you an answer. It didn’t.

“I’m going home,” you said, returning the phone to your ear. “Good night.”

He didn’t reply.

You ended the call.

The silence in the car was full of the echoes of that conversation. You leaned back against the seat, hands clasped tightly in your lap, and finally allowed yourself to feel it: the exhaustion, the confusion, the weight of being wanted too much and not knowing how to give enough back.

If someone asked you if Felix was your boyfriend, what would you even say?

You’d probably say no just to keep things simple.

He’d say yes. Loudly. Without hesitation.

You kissed sometimes. You spent the night. You shared silences that were soft and others that were sharp. You fought like people who’d already made promises they didn’t want to admit.

And yet—none of it had a name. You didn’t want to name it. Not because you didn’t care, but because naming it might make it real. Permanent. Something you had to tend to.

And he—he required tending. Constantly. Like a wound that never fully closed.

You stared out the window as the skyline shifted, shrinking behind you.

Eventually, your family’s manor appeared in the distance, its pale stone glowing under carefully placed lighting, as immaculate as always. Home.

The car pulled into the long front drive, gliding to a stop beneath the arching awning.

You stepped out slowly, heels tapping on the stone. The air smelled like rain and cut roses.

“Thank you,” you said to the driver, offering a nod before turning away.

You didn’t look back as you walked toward the front doors.

Inside, the house waited. Quiet. Unquestioning.

And for the first time in hours, you felt like you could breathe. Sort of.

You’d barely crossed the threshold before you heard them.

Voices—low, heated, too many of them for this late. Your stomach dropped. You hadn’t even had time to breathe in the sharp scent of polished wood and imported flowers before the realization hit you: they were still awake.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, pausing in the entryway. The weight of the day came crashing down at once—your raw nerves, the hours you hadn’t slept, the dull ache blooming across your shoulders. This? This was the last thing you had in you.

You took your shoes off—anything to soften your steps. Maybe if you were fast enough, maybe if you didn’t make eye contact, you could sneak past the dining room without—

“Look who finally decided to come home,” came the voice.

You froze mid-step. His voice, sharp as a blade against glass. You felt your shoulders stiffen like they’d been wired into place. The air in the hallway grew cold.

You turned slowly.

Quincy sat at the head of the dining table, his silhouette thrown into sharp relief by the chandelier’s amber glow. He looked at you the way some people look at roadkill—eyes narrowed, expression twisted with something too close to delight.

Before he said another word, he motioned lazily toward the two children seated on either side of him.

“Take Benjamin and charlotte to bed,” he said to the maid, though he didn’t look at her when he spoke.

Your younger half-siblings immediately began to protest. “But—”

“Now.”

Something in his tone cut the room in half.

That’s when you knew.

He was going to make a scene. No, not a scene—a statement.

When the children were gone, Quincy stood slowly. He didn’t need to yell to be dangerous. His voice had weight. It carried the kind of quiet cruelty that didn’t need to shout to leave bruises.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” he said, folding his arms. “Thought we were done with the disappearing act.”

You didn’t answer.

“I was told you didn’t come home last night. Actually—” He stepped around the table, closing the distance one slow step at a time. “You haven’t been home in over twenty-four hours.”

Still, you didn’t speak.

“You want to tell me where you’ve been?” His tone was light, conversational, but his eyes were burning. “Because after your last little incident, I thought we were past this.”

You glanced to your mother.

She was seated beside him, her face pale and blank, eyes cast downward. She wouldn’t look at you. She wouldn’t even lift her head.

So you tried to explain—something half true, something simple.

“I was out with Felix,” you said, voice low. “Then I had to handle something... for school. I was going to come home, but—”

“—but you didn’t,” he cut in. “You stayed at that boy’s house. Again.”

You blinked. How did he know?

Quincy’s lip curled. “You think people don’t talk? That no one sees the way you sneak around this city like you’ve got nothing to lose? Like your behavior doesn’t reflect on this entire family?”

“That’s not what it was,” you said. “I wasn’t—”

“Oh, save it,” he snapped. “Don’t lie to me. You think because you crawl into someone’s bed and cry about how hard your life is, you’re grown now? You think that makes you a woman?”

He was coming toward you now, too close, the sickly smell of whatever he’d been drinking coating his words.

Your breath caught in your throat. You could feel it building—the rage, the disgust, the deep, old fear that hadn’t gone away since the first time he raised his voice at you as a child.

“I’ve been patient,” Quincy said, voice rising. “God knows I’ve tried. But I won’t have my wife’s daughter embarrassing me. Not in my house.”

You heard your mother again—quiet, desperate: “Please, Quincy... don’t—”

“Shut up!” he roared, not even turning toward her. “Just shut the fuck up!”

Then it happened. He moved so quickly you didn’t register it at first—just the sharp yank of pain as he grabbed you by the hair, dragged you down to the marble floor.

You cried out, hands flying to your scalp, trying to claw his fingers away, but his grip was iron. He pulled you hard enough that your knees scraped the ground, hard enough that you saw stars.

Your mother screamed. Begged.

He didn’t care.

“You ungrateful little shit,” he growled, hauling you toward the living room, toward the fireplace like he was going to throw you into it. “I’ve fed you, clothed you, and this is how you repay me? Like some gutter trash whore—”

You felt something primal break open inside you.

Your nails dug into his skin so deep he cursed, and then—you felt it. He flinched. Loosened.

You broke free, stumbled into a sprint up the stairs, his footsteps thunderous behind you. Your mother’s voice trailed behind you like smoke—sobbing, pleading.

You slammed your bedroom door, fingers scrambling.

The drawer.

One of the things they’d sent back from your father’s military kit after he died. You hadn’t even looked at it in years.

But now your fingers found it without thinking—your father’s knife. Cold, heavy, real.

And then he was on you again.

“You think you’re better than me?” Quincy screamed, pinning you down by the throat. “You think you can act like you’re some untouchable little princess?”

Your hands fumbled—but then they found it. The handle of the knife.

You didn’t stab him.

You drove the hilt into the side of his head, hard.

He grunted, reared back.

You stood.

Knife in hand.

And suddenly, everything changed.

He saw it in your eyes—something new, something unfamiliar. The tears were gone. The fear had hollowed out and left something colder behind.

Quincy stepped back.

“What now?” you said, voice trembling but hard. “What are you gonna do now?”

He didn’t answer.

You stepped forward, raising the knife. Not to stab, but close enough to make your point.

“Don’t ever put your hands on me again.”

Your voice cracked—but the fury didn’t.

For a moment, you wanted to do it. Really do it. Just end it. Just shut him up forever.

But then you heard it. Your mother sobbing on the stairs, face crumpled in horror.

And then—you saw yourself.

Reflected in the mirror across the room.

Your face. Wild, bloodied, barely recognizable.

You looked like Coriolanus that night he came back from the Arena, hands shaking, blood under his nails. Not just survivor. Not just fighter.

Predator.

And you hated it.

You hated him, but you hated this even more.

You lowered the knife.

“Don’t you ever fucking touch me again,” you said.

And then you turned and ran.

You didn’t even wait to see if Quincy followed.

You just ran. Out the front door. Into the dark.

And you didn’t stop.

You weren’t running from him anymore.

You were running toward the girl who didn’t want to be prey.

You didn’t know how long you were running.

You didn’t care.

The sting in your heels had gone numb, your breath torn out of your chest hours ago. The cold slapped your arms, your legs. The dress—once a pristine white gift from Felix—was ruined, smeared with blood, dirt, and the memory of everything you’d just survived.

You were a walking bruise, inside and out.

Your limbs were trembling when you finally slowed, only to realize you had nowhere to go. No phone. No plan. No safety net. You thought of friends—acquaintances, really. None who knew, none who could know. All except one.

The park was almost empty, the Capitol skyline glowing behind the black trees. It had never felt like this. Tonight, it felt like a graveyard.

And there, like fate playing a cruel joke, he sat.

Coriolanus Snow. A single pool of light shone above him, flickering off the metal of a lighter in his hand. A cigarette rested between his lips, and for a moment you just stood still—your shadow stretching out long and ruined behind you.

He glanced up. His eyes went wide.

He didn’t stand. He didn’t speak. He just watched you approach.

You stopped in front of him, breath shallow, face stinging from the wind and everything else. He blinked slowly, taking you in: the mess of hair, the blood at your lip, the grime streaking your arms and knees. The bruises you couldn’t hide.

“Rough night?” he asked, voice low, with a dark twist of humor in it.

You almost laughed. But the only thing that came out was a sob you managed to swallow.

“Can I get a cig?”

That made him actually smile—small, crooked, real. “Since when do you smoke?”

“Since now.”

He flicked his lighter, held out the flame as you placed the cigarette between your lips. His other hand came up, shielding the wind, the way he always did. And in that flicker of fire, your eyes locked.

For a second, it was like nothing had changed.

The cigarette caught, and you leaned back. He exhaled slowly, smoke curling up past his lashes.

“I won’t ask,” he said.

“Good.”

You sat beside him. The silence between you was… not comfortable, but familiar. He leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees, eyes watching the horizon like it owed him something.

“You look like shit,” he added after a beat.

You smiled, wincing. “I feel worse.”

He didn’t say anything to that. Just took another drag.

Eventually, he broke the quiet again. “You need somewhere to go?”

You hesitated. You shouldn’t. You knew you shouldn’t.

“I really shouldn’t,” you murmured.

He turned his head, stared at you. “Where else are you gonna go?”

And that was it. That was the question. You weren’t going home. You weren’t showing up at Felix’s door looking like this. And as dangerous as being near Corio always felt, right now it was the only place you didn’t feel like dying.

You nodded once.

He noticed your feet as you stood. Bleeding. Raw.

He didn’t say a word. Just bent down, hooked his arm behind your knees and the other under your back, and lifted you.

You let yourself be carried.

The apartment was quiet. Tigress and the grandmother slept behind closed doors. Coryo moved quietly, only the soft creak of floorboards betraying your presence.

In his room, everything felt frozen in time. It looked the same as it had the last time you were here—before Clemencia’s fall, before the arena, before all of it.

Déjà vu clawed at you.

He handed you a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. You dressed in the bathroom. When you came out, your reflection in the mirror had nearly undone you. You didn’t recognize her.

You both ended up on his bed, sitting far enough apart that it almost hurt.

“What are we doing?” you asked quietly, staring at your knees.

“I don’t know.”

“You ever feel like… we’re strangers?”

He chuckled, bitterly. “We are. But we know each other’s darkest secrets. So that’s something.”

There was a pause.

“I used to think we could fix each other,” you whispered. “That maybe that’s what we were for.”

“And now?”

“I think we’re both too broken to be anything but dangerous.”

He glanced at you. “You make danger sound sexy.”

You smiled again, this one more tired than anything else. “That’s your problem.”

His hand brushed yours. You didn’t move it away.

“You scared me tonight,” he said quietly. “Seeing you like that.”

“You’ve seen worse.”

“Not from you.”

And then the distance closed. You kissed him.

It was desperate. Wild. Wrong in all the right ways.

You didn’t stop yourself. His hands were on your back, your thighs, tangled in your hair. Your body moved before your brain could scream stop. The room was hot, air thick with longing, smoke, and something else—something old and familiar and tragic.

You climbed into his lap, your mouth pressed to his like you’d forgotten how to breathe without him.

It felt too good. Too real.

You were crying before you even noticed.

He pulled back, lips wet, brows drawn.

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. Couldn’t speak.

“What is it?”

You stared at him, heart cracking open. “What does this mean, Coryo?”

He didn’t answer.

You swallowed. “Because we both know you’re gonna go back to her.”

His eyes flickered. “It’s not like that—”

“Tell me it doesn’t mean anything,” you interrupted. “Tell me it meant nothing. Lucy Gray.”

He froze.

You waited.

Nothing.

Tears welled harder. You pulled away. “That’s what I thought.”

“Wait—please. It’s not—” He reached for you. You stepped back.

“Don’t,” you whispered. “Get off me. Just… don’t.”

“Why do you always do this?” he snapped. “Why do you always run?”

“Because I have to. Because I know what this is, and I’m not going to pretend.”

“I’m not pretending either—”

“Yes, you are.” You looked at him, eyes bloodshot, voice cracked. “You want us to be something we never were. You want me when it’s convenient, when it hurts, but you don’t choose me. Not really.”

“That’s not fair—”

“No,” you whispered. “It’s honest.”

You grabbed your dress, slipped it back over your borrowed clothes. Every movement was mechanical, lifeless. He didn’t stop you this time.

And then you left.

[edb954]

White Roses & Coal Dust

President!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Everdeen!Reader

Series Warnings: Arranged/political marriage, power imbalance, emotional manipulation, isolation, themes of abuse/control, sexual themes, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth, grief, Hunger Games violence and death (canon-level), rebellion tension, slow burn angst, eventual confrontation, parental themes, canon divergence.

Synopsis: To secure his power and pacify Panem, Coriolanus Snow marries a poor girl from District 12. But promises built on politics rot quickly—and love doesn’t bloom easily under glass.

Timeline Note: This AU shifts the Hunger Games timeline to make Snow significantly younger during Katniss’s rise, allowing for a deeper entanglement between him and the Everdeen family.

Chapters Key:

Y/N’s POV: ☾

Smut/Explicit Content: ♱

Chapter One: First Glint

Chapter Two: A Gentle Invasion

Chapter Three: Threads of Control

Chapter Four: Unseen Lines ☾

Chapter Five: An Invitation to Stay

Chapter Six: A Perfect Farewell

Chapter Seven: Charmed Compulsion (COMING SOON)

[edb954]

Cardew! Reader Headcons:

(A/n: this is based off of my mini series of one shots for the Cardew! Reader I have going and don't worry i definitely have more coming!! Also first time doing HC😵‍💫)

Masterlist : Request Info

~~

~ Knowing each other in the academy but never getting close until the University

~ Livia getting in the way of the pair at the academy (which is why they never got to know each other properly before hand)

~Coriolanus being set up in an arranged marriage with Livia

~ Yes! He Actually wants and in his own f'ed up way actually Loves you

~Him leaving Lucy Gray in the past as his new love/obsession/possession is now you

~ Both of you sneaking behind Livia and your parents back

~ Your parents not noticing because they care more about Livia (Sorry) but when they do they are furious and try to make you an avox &/Disown you

~Livia being pissed & Jealous

~Coriolanus protecting you and marrying you the same date your parents had for him and Livia

~Coriolanus poisoning your parents while you are away from the house

~ You scolding him when he drinks the poison

~ Threatening to leave if he continues but of course he reminds you but agreed to stop

(He does for a good amount of time)

~Him opening up to you more and more

~ Being their when Coriolanus gets elected and wins the election and becomes president

~ Being the Hot Power Couple

~ Hardcore kinky sex almost 24/7

~Having his hands on you every chance he gets

~Finding out your pregnant a week after the election (like I said it was almost 24/7)

~He catches you singing to the children and gets memorised

~Your children being the both of yours entire world

~as you get older you see him start to change and get colder especially towards your kids

~You falling ill and passing breaking your children's heart and Coriolanus stone cold one

~You haunting him every single day up until his final breath

~Having your Granddaughter remind him of you (which is why he cares about her/has a soft spot for her)

[edb954]

Me patiently waiting for the next chapter of:

Like;

And checking it + rereading it because it’s amazing like

~~

It might be a slight problem.. but I’m invested in this series! So take your time but I cannot wait for more!! Much love and hope your doing well🫶🏻 @bookishcarmela

[edb954]

Wake Up Call (Coriolanus Snow x Fem! Reader)

(Summary: You caught Coriolanus cheating on you so you decided to take matters into your own hands... let's just say you should've known better..)

Masterlist : Request Info

(A/n: omg I have no idea where this came from but surprise? (Think I blacked out a bit as well😂) I get a lot of inspiration from songs😅💀 also I'm not the best at writing smut so apologies!)

Word count: 1.2

(Warnings!: Cheating, infidelity, sexual themes, Coriolanus is his own warning, implications of murder, possibly slight ooc Coriolanus?)

'Came without a warnin so I had to Shoot him dead...'

~~~

  You thought you and Coriolanus had a happy strong marriage but of course you should've known it was all a thieving lie coming from the snake himself.

  You never paid much attention to what people said. That he was a cheater, a liar, a murder. Since you had known him and Tigris since you were kids you never fully believed it. Oh how naive you were...

   Especially one day when you decided to swing by his office to see if he wanted to grab lunch together only to see him railing his assistant in his office.

  Most people would've made a scene but you conjured up an even more scandalous taste of revenge that would be the perfect all star payback.

  Before you had officially ended up with  Coriolanus, you had a guy that you had fallen for Atlas James. He was the light of your life before Coriolanus came in and swept you off your feet again.

  You decided to had call him up and so it began Coriolanus being way to busy at the office and the media are already being aware of your close friendship with Atlas they thought nothing of it.

  Little did you know that one of Coriolanus peacekeepers had caught you and Atlas one day. Which lead to this moment.

"So you thought you could deceive me?" Coriolanus spat as he shoved you into your shared bedroom that hadn't been shared in weeks.

"You're one to talk about deceiving." You spat back sending him death glare. "I found you screwing your assistant a few weeks ago and Atlas was there for me. Besides it gave you the taste of you own medicine."

  That statement made Coriolanus snap as he grabbed your neck pushing you against the door harshly making the door knob jam into your side as you managed to let out a cry from his strong grip.

"Your just a little thieving slut aren't you? Or have you forgotten that Your mine!" He seethed as you let out a whine as your body betrayed you letting your undergarments get soaked. His eyes gleaming with something you couldn't understand.

"I think it's time I show you exactly who you belong too.." He growled before pushing her down onto the bed bringing her into a rough hard kiss as he ripped off your panties.

"Filthy slut." He grumbled at your soaked garment and entrance. Without warning he shoved two fingers into your core making you let out a strangle moan as he held you in a bruising kiss as his fingers plunged in and out of you.

"Cori-" Shut up. Shut that filthy little mouth of yours." He snapped as he pulled her hair back roughly making her gasp.

  He ripped off her silk dress completely now making it tear before pulling his fingers out pushing her into the mattress with his hand around your throat squeezing it harshly as he unbuckled his pants and shoving his cock into you before pulling out and slamming back in making hers eyes widened in pain at the unreadiness before letting out a strangled moan as he continued at the very rough pace.

"You belong to me!" He growled as he snapped his hips into you. "Mine." "Mine." "MINE!" Her eyes rolling back into the back of her head with a mix of pleasure and light headedness.

"Say it! Say your mine!" He snapped letting go of your throat.

"I-im yours!" You shouted into a moan as you crumbled underneath him letting him win once again.

"Who do you belong to?" He asked making you look into his eyes as he fucked into you.

"Y-you! Only ever you!" You moaned. The smirk on his face displayed he was satisfied but you knew. You knew better and should've known better.

  He licked and sucked down your neck as he brought your legs over his shoulders giving a new angle making you cry out in pain as you felt him in your cervix.

"You feel that?" He grumbled pushing down on your lower stomach making your eyes widen and gasp. "Me. That's my spot.and only mine.."

"Tell me did he make you feel this good when he fucked you?" He asked lifting his head from her neck and looking into your eyes.

"N-no." You moaned looking into his eyes. "O-only you have made me feel this g-good!"

  He kissed your ear and whispering. "Good girl."

"Cum for me. Cum on my cock baby let everybody know how good you are being fucked." And of course you obeyed as you finally came with a loud moan as he pushed himself in balls deep a final time before spilling his seed deep inside your womb.

  His hands letting go of your arms as they came around you holding you as you both panted sweat dripping down your bodies. Before unwrapping his arms pulling out of you making you whine at the sudden emptiness. You honestly thought he was going to just leave you a mess once you saw him get up and leave. But to your surprise he came back and picked you up taking you to the bathroom placing you into the hot steamy bath before stripping his own clothes and getting in behind you before bringing you to lay against him.

  You felt too tired to say a word or protest his actions only to relax against his chest in his arms.

"I apologise for deceiving our marriage.. for deceiving you." He said making you freeze and wonder if this was just another manipulation temp or actually coming from the Corio you once thought you knew.

"I was stressed and I didn't think about you." ‘Obviously’ you thought. "But it's you. It's been you. My wife." Coriolanus said pressing kiss on the back of her neck.

"Why did you do it? With your assistant?" You asked at the risk of angering him again.

"I was working late hours. Barley home and... I missed you." He confessed. "I know it's a bullshit excuse.. but it's true.."

"I-I only slept with him the time you found out about it all the other times I would meet up with him was just to mess with you.. to see if you would care." You admitted feeling an unwanted sense of guilt however this filled Coriolanus with pride at your sense of knowing. Before bringing her head up as he pressed his lips to yours in a wanting kiss.

  You turned around in the kiss coming to straddle him neither of you caring much if some water spilled out of the tub as he slipped himself back into you causing you to moan in mix of pleasure and pain against his lips.

  Coriolanus smirked against your lips as he got her exactly where he wanted you. As he also smirked at the knowing fact that your beloved ex and his slut of an assistant will no longer be a problem after tonight and won't be coming around anymore.