#ellie staple x reader

[aboutcustardcreams]

Hiii! I watched Glass a few days ago and I decided to write something with Dr. Ellie Staple! It's nothing special, and maybe it's pretty rushed too, but I wanted to give it a try and here it is! I finally graduated so I have way more free time than before to think of plots and write down ideas. Hope you enjoy it <3

Embrace who you are

I have been sitting in this room for so long, I don't even remember what day is it. Hours flow quietly in their succession, always the same. I used to believe that being different was a blessing, but in this place it's nothing like that. I don't consider myself a superhero, although I possess some characteristics that have nothing to do with what's ordinary.

There must be something in my brain, she says. An episode of my past, a memory, a trauma that perhaps led me feeling numb in contact with fire. Not that I can do much in here. The medication and these restraint bracelets are weakening me day to day, and I'm honestly not even trying anymore to perform it because what's the point?

"Why are you doing this?", I ask her again, when comes in for the daily checkup. Her soft waves contour her face so graciously, I can't help but feel drawn to her, to those eyes that deep down appear to guard only light and kindness. However, was that the truth or just an infatuation of mine, considering the conditions she put me in?

"What do you mean, sweetheart?", her voice is laced with an innocence I stopped believing a few days ago. She is just trying to avoid the question, as always. I scoff lightly and bow my head focusing on my trembling hands, whose wrists have been handcuffed with a peculiar bracelet meant to keep all my abilities at bay. Initially I thought she cared about me, like truly. But now, I'm not sure anymore.

"I'm supposed to believe whatever you say without a fight—" I mumble tiredly, slowly meeting her confused frown. I'm so tired of being here, these four white walls are driving me crazy. I just want my life back. Doesn't she see that I'm struggling? She sighs and tilts her head to the side, a soft smile appears on her lips, "Sweetie, I—"

But I don't want to listen to those excuses anymore. "All your assumptions about what's real and what's not," I fix my gaze at the handcuffs, "and these, I'm sick of these! I feel like... suffocating," I swallow a lump in my throat, my voice comes out thinner but determined to make her understand that she was hurting me.

She smiles sadly at me, her eyebrows meet in a frown, "I know it seems brutal...", I chuckle bitterly, "Because it is!" I respond, letting out an exasperated grunt. She sees I'm fighting against my emotions, pushing past the tears threatening to spill from my eyes. She walks towards me, and for a moment, I see guilt flashing through her deep chocolate eyes. "Hey, hey...", I feel the mattress beneath me dip a bit as she takes a seat next to me.

On one side, I admire her like no other person I've ever laid my eyes on. There is something about her that hopelessly draws me closer. But there is also the other side that says— scream even to stay away. "I'm aware it's hard for you to comprehend, but I know what I'm doing. I specialize in people like you..."

Have you ever had that feeling about a person? Even when you know they are wrong, it feels like they are telling the truth, just because they firmly believe it is the truth. That's how Ellie was making me feel. She thinks she is helping me, failing to see my prospective. "People like me?," I look into her eyes with nothing but pure disbelief. A bitter chuckle escapes my mouth right after.

"Wait—", she sighs and reaches out a hand to touch me but I draw back before she can do it. "Do you hear yourself talking? There is nothing wrong with me," my lip quivers as I pronounce those words. I wonder what these handcuffs are made of to make my finger feel so numb and cold.

Ellie leans closer and lightly hushes me. Her long brown lashes well up with tears, tears that honestly I don't understand. Is she sad because she can't cure me? Is she discouraged because I refuse to listen to her? While busy asking myself what the reason of her distress may be, her hand gently cups my cheek. I squeeze my eyes shut, when her voice says my name with such a delicacy, I feel more vulnerable than ever. "You mastered a remarkable kindness, but it's just a camouflage."

If I looked at her now I'd see the hurt in her eyes. Her fingers tremble next to my skin. She inhales sharply and shakes her head at the same time, "No..." she voices out both exasperatedly and painfully, "You're so wrong," when her voice cracks a little, I look at her and say, "You keep telling me I'm wrong, but you never considered that you might be."

Her cheeks have reddened a bit, probably taken aback by my sudden outburst. A single tear slides down her face, while her bottom lip wobbles, causing me to feel guilty for whatever reason. "Your beliefs can put you in danger," she stutters for the first time feeling unconvinced of her own statement. It only makes the entire situation funnier to me.

"They are not beliefs and you know it! This is who I am," I voice out in a faint whisper. Tears spill from my eyes, because I'm so exhausted to be fed lies. I never called myself a superhero and if that's the title she fears so much, I'm willing to never use it. I'm just a girl that can evoke fire. I don't know myself how that's possible, but it's true. A part of me secretly hoped that Ellie would understand me, but I'm slowly losing faith.

When I was first met with those brown eyes I thought there was a chance for me to be understood and not condemned. I understand maybe it's fear what she feels. But I'm not a danger, I never was. After all, what harm have I done in life? I try to help those in need when I get the chance. Otherwise, I simply mind my business. I'm a normal person, regardless of the skills I possess. "I simply want to help you, make sure you don't get hurt..."

I scoff again, a bitter smile curve my lips, "By making me lose myself so that you're happy with your research?", "How does this make me happy exactly?", she quickly responds, gesturing animatedly. I raise an eyebrow at that. Is she pointing out the fact that I'm restrained? If yes, wouldn't it be easier to just let me go? "You did this to me," I state calmly, showing her my wrists.

Her chest rises and falls quicker, she opens her mouth to say something but she closes it again. I see her biting her tongue after, clearly in difficulty to express herself and make herself understood. I find myself even more confused because... are those irises moist with tears now? Is she about to cry? If so, maybe she does care? Or maybe she just finds me crazy and utterly beyond recovery.

"You're so focused on trying to get me to admit that I'm mentally sick, that you don't even see the person that I actually am," I see her posture change a bit when I pronounce these words. "That's not—", I keep her gaze, while I hesitantly draw my hands closer to hers. Despite the handcuffs, I can still move pretty freely, since they are not those bound to one another but they simply restrain my wrists. She looks at our fingers in trance as they almost touch. "Am I only an experiment to you? A task to complete so that you can level up?"

"N-no...," she looks heartbroken when she says that. Her voice never sounded so weak and guilty. It almost makes me feel bad for having said that. For a while I thought about believing her, admit to myself that having those abilities was more of an illness than a gift. That I maybe didn't feel pain, but I was actually hurting myself purposefully. And that it was better to be cured, but then, something snapped in me. Those were just lies.

"I don't see you that way. I never did. I do care about you." I sigh and angrily wipe my cheeks with the sleeves of my shirt, "Your actions tell me differently," I reply, averting my gaze towards that annoying pale wall, but only briefly cause lingering on it too long causes my eyes to itch and burn. "What do you want me to do?", that question surprises me. I mean, wasn't it obvious? I shake my handcuffs slightly as to point out the main reason of my distress.

"Freeing me from these would be a good start," I keep a sarcastic smile on my face. She takes a hesitant breath, her teeth nibbling her bottom lip that can't stop trembling, "Sweetheart...", she struggles, her eyes possess a fear of I don't know what, but it's crystal clear that it gnaws at her heart. "Please, Ellie. I'm not a danger," I plead.

Despite having been treated like this for weeks, I don't seek revenge or anything of the sort. I just want to be able to go back to my old life and get rid of these annoying handcuffs. "I want to believe you, I do", she insists, her voice trembling as she speaks, wavering with uncertainty. For the first time after a while I see a shift in her behavior. A determination that maybe will lead her to go against the protocol, "Then, what's stopping you?", I insist softly.

"Everything I've been taught...", she mutters to herself before looking at me again, "Look, I see the truth in your eyes," she admits, which makes me hope for a real change of events. "I'm just— I'm scared of the consequences. Not about what you would do once you're set free, but about the others— what if they find out and disagree with my decision? What if they come after you, manipulate and restrain you in ways I can't even imagine?"

I see her heart torn between duty and compassion. Love even, maybe. A soft smile tugs at my lips, maybe she does care about me after all. "I can handle myself. I can change city, I don't know, disappear if I have to... Anything is better than this. I don't want to spend eternity here, though your company makes it better," my attempts to be funny even in such situations sometimes astonishes me.

However, there is some truth in it. I like her. Maybe more than I should, as irrational as that sounds. Ellie's cheeks flush pink, an amused and quiet chuckle escapes her mouth right after, "You don't have to flatter me, sweetheart," I rapidly shake my head at that. I'm not trying to play with her, I really meant what I said. "I'm not," I state simply, hoping to let my honesty shine through. "Although, I wish we met in different circumstances," I mutter quietly, shrugging a bit.

"Me too...", she says, which leads me to snap my eyes open towards her. "For real?", her heart breaks at the uncertainty and vulnerability in my voice. Ellie simply nods at that, a thin and sad smiles graces upon her lips, while her hand reaches out to cup my cheek still wet and warm with tears. The pad of her finger delicately wipe a solitary tear that, without me knowing, just slipped from my eye. I'm so vulnerable to affection, I feel myself blushing.

I didn't know that but Ellie had spent so long to try and suppress her mixed feeling towards me, burying them beneath the weight of her responsibilities as doctor. Her fingers keep brushing against my paled cheek as she ponders on her next words carefully, "I'm so sorry," she whispers painfully, "Ellie...", I look for her eyes, that she voluntarily keeps down. "I'm sorry for making you doubt of yourself, for keeping you here—", shaking her head, she lets out a cry, "I want to help you, for real now."

With my eyes wide open, I breathe out, "Really?", tears brim in my eyes, as a glimmer of hope flick within them. "If it's the last thing I do" she confesses weakly, finally looking at me now. "This isn't your place." My heart flutters at her tone, I feel mixed feelings all of the sudden. I'm so excited to the possibility to put an end to all of this, "What will we do, then?"

What she does next completely astounds me. Her delicate fingers fumble as she struggles to unlock the handcuffs which have been secured with a code that only she knows. When a click follows, I finally feel cool air pass through my skin. I let out a relieved breath, while Ellie gasps in horror, noticing the red, raw marks etched into my wrists. "Oh my God, I'm.. I'm so sorry—", panic fills her voice as she shakily takes both my hands in hers, examining the seriousness of the injury.

"Don't be sorry, " I tell her with a reassuring smile, not wanting to add more weight on her shoulders. I feel so relieved, as if I'm starting breathing again. "No. I should have done better, I never meant to hurt you this way—", she takes a deep, shaky breath, her whole body trembling with remorse. She lightly massages my sore wrists, making me wince a bit. She stops, offering me another apologetic glance, "Can you feel your powers?", she asks, cupping my cheeks.

"Huh?", unsure if I have heard her right or not, she looks at me with conviction, tears filling her eyes. She nods her head and strokes my cheeks tenderly, "But... are you sure?", a reassuring smile tugs at Ellie's lips, "You need them to get out of here, don't you?", she grins through tears. I can't help but chuckle at that. The first liberating giggle in so long. "You're not afraid of me?", I need to make sure of this. I never mean to be a monster in her eyes.

As weird as it sounds, the last thing I wish for is for her to think ill of me. She simply shakes her head, her lips flatten in a thin line. Her eyes express me a weight of guilt and sorrow that tell me more than one hundred words. "I never was," her emotional confession makes my heart burst with joy. As I wriggle my fingers, slowly feeling my powers radiate through each fiber of my body once again, she gives me an encouraging squeeze on my shoulder.

I chuckle softly when dim flames start dancing in your hands, casting a warm glow in your face. Ellie can't help but look at me in awe. Her fear slowly melting away, replaced by a sense of wonder and admiration. "You were never a threat...", she mutters to herself, however loud enough for me to hear. A soft smile plays on my lips, as I look at her. When my gaze lingers on her eyes, the flames grow a little stronger.

Realizing that, I close my hands in fists and quickly and awkwardly apologize. She giggles at that and reaches out a hand to cup my chin, "You're extraordinary," she mutters, captivated by my gentle demeanor. A funny warmth fills my chest, when she asks, "Show me again. Show me who you are," her eyes lock with mine with nothing but love and conviction. I nod my head, a playful grin upon my features as I lean closer to her and whisper, "with immense pleasure."

[misserabella]

come over

abby anderson x fem! reader

pt2

summary; strangely enough, your number one enemy since kindergarten and captain of the basketball club of your college calls you up one night begging you to come over to her dorm room. after knocking on her door, things will take a turn that you would have never expected.

CW;; +18 content! minors dni!, cursing, dirty talk, nipple play, bullying and fights, teasing, oral sex (r receiving), strap on use (r receiving), abby calls the strap her cock, jealousy, possessiveness, dacryphilia, overstimulation, squirting, spanking, finger fucking, hair pulling, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms… MINORS DNI!!!

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

You were having a really bad day. Not bad, horrible.

First of all, your alarm didn’t go off for some stupid reason and caused you to 1. getting late to school and 2. getting your teacher to lower your grade just because he’s a goddamn asshole that hates you.

Second of all, you’d forgotten your lunch and your wallet, so you were now starving unable to buy anything to eat (thank god one of your friends had shared with you her sandwich or else you would be dead by now). And third of all…

“And what do we have here?”

Her.

You rolled your eyes, feeling your skin heating up and your insides turning with disgust and anger as you turned around to face the most annoying fucking person you’ve ever met.

“Give it back, Anderson.”

Abigail Anderson, the name that would appear on your worst nightmares, the monster under your bed, the last person you’d ever want to live through the end of the world with... Your enmity had been going strong since kindergarten, when she had picked on you for your looks since day one just because. Then, she started to tell her friends and those around you to not go near you or else they’d catch lice.

She needed to be on top of you all the time; if there was a race on P.E, she’d make you trip with her foot to get you on your knees and win (leaving you all bloody and injured), if there were presentations to be made in front of the whole class she’d crack up jokes to make everyone laugh at you, giving you quite the public anxiety and if you somewhat got to win her in anything (probably at grades) she’d go nuts and get so pissed that she’d make your life impossible for the next few months by trashing your locker, ‘accidentally’ throwing her drinks all over you, telling the teachers that she saw you cheating…

It only got worse when you found your best friend: Ellie Williams. You became inseparable in high school. And she made your life impossible.

You stapled a poster at the university’s ‘news wall’. It was Ellie’s, she was about to go on a tour and had asked you if it would be okay to hang some posters to let everyone know. Through the years, The Fireflies had gained fame and a lot of followers.

“The freak is going on a tour?” she scoffed, raising her eyebrows. “Disgusting. She really thinks she’s gonna become a superstar or some shit…”

You fisted your hands, your heart being squished under the nickname that your friend had had to grow up with just because she liked things the others didn’t.

“Don’t call her that.” you said, your eyes straight into hers.

“ ‘Freak’?” she teased you, swaying away the poster when you tried and take it back. “What do you want me to call her then, hm? Delusional, maybe.” she thought out loud, when she noticed your furious expression, she simply shrugged. “Just stating facts.” the people around you had gathered to listen to your bickering. It was a daily coincidence now, Anderson being always the one looking for trouble. Some of them laughed at her words… Jerks. Just like her.

“You know what, Anderson? Sure, call her whatever you want.” you said, ripping from his hands the poster. “But I assure you, that you’ll never be not an inch of a girl that she is. All that height and still no brains. ” that made the crowd burst out in laughter. You were filled with proudness when you noticed her jaw tightening and her body going stiff. You were no outcast now, you were popular to be honest, and everybody knew the two of you since Anderson was the basketball team captain and you the cheerleader team captain. It was hell on the games, each of you always fighting each other off. But your teammates had grown so accustomed to it that they just laughed at your little fights. “So go ahead and run your mouth, ‘cause I’m sure yours will never get to places hers have never been.” you leaned in. “And hold your tongue, ‘cause Ellie knows how to use hers really well.” you whispered inches away from her face, giving her a wink before stapling the poster to the board and leaving her behind with tightened fists and heated cheeks.

It was a big day for you and your team, and you didn’t have time for play dates.

—

“y/n!” your eyes shone when to your ears the familiar sound of your best friend’s voice ringed.

You turned around, with your pompoms in hand and high ponytail, your college’s cheerleader uniform shining due to the lights that lightened the whole basketball court.

“Els!” you smiled, so bright that almost blinded, running and jumping on your friend’s arms, who easily caught you and squeezed you in a tight hug. “You made it!” you laughed as she twirled you around.

“Of course I made it, it’s your big night after all. Although I still don’t get this basketball and cheering thing…” she left a sweet peck on your cheek. “But look at you all dolled up! Is it for me?” she winked, leaning just the slightest in, enough for her to whisper on your ear.

You laughed, playfully pushing at her chest. “Of course Ellie, you know I’m all yours.” you winked back, making her let out a quick laughter.

“I really need to put a ring on you, Ms. Williams.” she pointed at you as the music that let the public know that the match was about to start started to play through the speakers and she backed off to the stairs to sit and leave you to your cheerleading.

“I’ll be waiting on it, Ms. Williams!” she sent you a flying kiss that only made you giggle and roll your eyes. You loved Ellie, she always found a way to make you laugh and that’s something that you truly appreciated. She was the only one that truly got you.

You turned around to call for your teammates, your smile fading as fast as your eyes bumped against those blue ones that you do well knew at this rate.

Anderson looked at you with such a pissed expression… Water bottle tightly clutched in one of her hands, about to burst. She let it fall to the ground along with the towel that stood on her shoulders when her coach called out for her with his whistle, giving Ellie, who was on the first step on your back a death glare as she ran to the center of the court to shake hands with the other team captain.

What the…

“Girls come on!!” you called for the cheerleaders on your team as you still looked at the stiff body of your incarnated hell. What the fuck is wrong with her?

“Assume positions!”

Not my problem.

You shrugged it off and started to cheer for your team along with the public that had come to watch the match, most of them students from both colleges. And through all of it, you tried and ignore the harsh eyes that bore holes on the back of your neck, even if your skin felt like being on fire.

…

It was late at night in your dorm room, your roommate having left to stay at her girlfriend’s house since it was Friday. You were snacking on some candy and chips as you watched your favorite show, Teen Wolf, along with Ellie, who had sneaked to your bedroom, laying in your bed fully covered and with your pjs on. After the game, which you sadly had lost, you had watched as a very infuriated Abby walked out of the court and the gym, not without giving you and Ellie, who was hugging you and congratulating you for your efforts regardless of the result of the match, a pretty harsh glare that clearly said ‘fuck you two.’

Jeez, you didn’t know what has gotten her so riled up that afternoon but you surely hoped for her to go and drown her sorrows somewhere as quietly as possible and leave you alone.

“Hell yeah!” you cheered to the power couple as they shared their first kiss, almost jumping and throwing all your chips around and on your best friend when Isaac and Allison finally shared their first kiss.

“Ugh. Really Allison?! I was expecting better from you.” the auburn haired guitarist gasped, acting hurt at the ‘betrayal’. She was team Scott. Which was obviously stupid since he now liked Kira.

“What are you talking about?! Scott has moved on, doesn’t she have the right to do so too?” Ellie gave you a side glance as in a ‘no’, but she quickly laughed when you hit her shoulder with a ‘hey!’.

Your attention was completely on the screen when your phone started buzzing on your side table. You took a new bite at your candy as you reached for it, still not focusing on it as you took. the call. It was probably your roommate calling to check in.

“Hello?” you talked into the line, waiting for a few seconds for an answer that never came. You checked the screen, ‘Unknown number’ showing on its center. You furrowed your eyebrows “Hello? Who’s this?” Ellie paused the series and rose to sit up on your bed along with you, mouthing a ‘who’s it?’. You simply shrugged and mouthed back a ‘no idea’. The sudden appearance of a sharp and heavy breathing caught you off ward for a couple of seconds before you rolled your eyes.

“Are you serious?” you huffed, thinking it was a stupid phone call. “We're in college, how about we stop playing Scream and start being more matures?” you said, and just as you were about to hang up, a rather familiar voice croaked out:

“y/n."

You froze, your breath hitching as your brain tried to convince itself that you had heard right “Anderson?” you were in shock for a couple of seconds, Ellie furrowed his eyebrows and looked at you in utter disbelief. When the casual anger grew inside you with just the mention of her name appeared you snapped at her. “Do you know what hour it is… No. Why the fuck are you calling me in first place?” you rolled your eyes. For just a couple of hours that you were enjoying yourself with your best friend, of course she had to come and ruin it. She always does and always will.

She was silent for an instant before her voice breaks out in a whimper that makes your stomach flip.

“Please.”

“W…What?” your eyebrows were knitted together so hard it was painful. Ellie just hits you in the arm, silently asking you to tell her what’s going on. You just swatted her hand away and lift a finger to quiet her.

“Please.” she repeated.

“Are you drunk or something? You should-“ you started, but she was quick to cut you off.

“y/n…” that was something different. The way your name fell from her lips in such need, hunger… “Come over. Please come over. I need you so bad…”

“I-“

“y/n, what is it?” Ellie spoke up, and you could hear the tension from the other part of the line rise.

“Fuck. Is Williams there with you?” Abby affirmed more than asked.

“y/n!” Ellie asked again.

“y/n.” but the voice of Anderson on the other line had you too out of focus. The way you could hear the begging on her tone, the need…

You didn’t know what had gotten over you, but you found yourself quick on your feet to grab your dorm keys.

“Wait for me.”

Ellie stood up as well and watch you hang up and made your way out of your room after putting on a pair of shoes.

“Where are you going?” Ellie inquired, completely and utterly lost. “You’re leaving?”

“I’ll be right back, I promise. I think there’s something wrong with Anderson. You can continue with the serie and use my bed, alright?” you quickly muttered, and when you caught her stepping closer and raising her hand to say something and find out whatever the hell was going on, you closed the door on her face.

You made your way over to her room’s wing, having been there before to parties and so. And before you knew it, you had knocked on her door. You didn’t have to wait a long time before she appeared on its threshold, her normally perfectly combed and braided hair being a mess, shirtless and with only a pair of sweats and a sports bra on. She looked like a mess, with red cheeks, swollen bitten lips, glassed eyes and shaky breathing.

“Anderson, what the hell are you…” a scream almost got ripped out of you at the harsh yank that took place on your arm. Before you knew it you had been pulled inside and smashed against the now closed door of her room, her body towering over yours and her breath caressing your face.

Fuck. You’ve never been this close before.

“You’re driving me insane.” she said, one of her hands cupping your cheek, dark shiny eyes connecting with yours before they’d drift back to your lips. “I’ve been thinking about what you told me all day. Knowing that Williams got to touch you, taste you… Is killing me. And her being in your room? Having you in her arms? Thinking about her just touching you is… Fuck.” you chocked. You didn’t understand. Wasn’t she supposed to hate you? Despise you? Then why…? “I can’t stop imagining her kissing you, holding you…” her thumb pressed over your bottom lip, tugging on it, admiring. “You were supposed to pay attention to me. You were supposed to think about me.” your heart was thumping against your ribs, and you felt like dying when she harshly kissed you. It was fast, and angry. Her tongue was quick to push inside your mouth, your teeth clashing and your body being pulled against her. You whimpered, your hands finding her hair as you pulled her closer. You’d never felt this way. How your whole body seemed to combust, the shaking of your limbs, the thumping of your heart…

But what was going on? ‘Pay attention to her’? ‘Think of her’? What was that supposed to mean? Had Anderson always treat you badly to get your attention? To get under your skin one way or another?

You were burning, so badly that she felt like snow.

“Fuck.” she muttered as she pulled away. “Been dreaming of doing that since the first time you yelled at me.” you whimpered when her warm hands took a harsh hold of your waist, pulling you against her close and tight enough for you to feel her body heat, her hard nipples through her bra.

Her mouth was back on yours, and your whole world was spinning. Her hair on your hands, her gasps against your lips, her pine scent…

“Yeah, that’s right.” she muttered, a little smirk showing in her factions when she noticed your dazed and unfocused eyes. “Focus on me. Just me.” she whispered on your ear before her lips latched to your neck, sucking on your skin hard enough to mark you up. You moaned, her hands sneaking inside your pj’s shirt and slowly making its way upwards, towards your chest.

“Fuck, Anderson.” you gasped when her warm hands took your tits, massaging them and rolling your nipples in between her fingers as she pressed a leg in between your legs, making your aching pussy brush against the lean muscle of her thigh.

“Abby.” she corrected. “It’s Abby for you, baby.”

“Abby.” you moaned when she pushed upwards with her leg, helping you ride it.

“That’s right. But you need to say it a little bit louder, hm? Need to let everybody know that it’s me who you are moaning for.” you whimpered at her words, her large hands leaving your chest to take your hips and pick you up to make her way to her king size bed. She lifted you so easily it was dizzying, the muscles of her arms popping

You felt almost crushed against the duvet when she pinned you down to it underneath her weight. Almost, ‘cause right at that exact moment, you just wished she could be closer, she could be harsher, smush you against the bed and fuck you senseless ‘till you are nothing more than a babbling mess.

“That’s right.” she smirked when you pulled her closer, choked when her hands were once again pulling your top up slowly. “Fuck. You drive me insane.” she muttered when your chest was fully uncovered. “Fucking beautiful.” you moaned when her mouth left wet kisses on your chest. Her tongue circled your nipples as one of her hands made its way to the seam of your pajama pants and panties, which stood completely soaked in arousal.

“Abby.” you cried out when her fingers caressed you from over the lace of your underwear, chuckling at the wetness of them.

“You are so wet for me already, such a good girl…” you almost whimpered, your cheeks blushing at the praise, something that didn’t go unnoticed. “You liked that, hm? Like to be my good little girl?” you nodded, your legs shaking when she finally pushed down your underwear and pjs to touch you. You gasped when her rough and thick fingers pressed against your core, sliding through your folds, pooled in your arousal. “So fucking wet.” she cursed as she circled your clit, making you moan. Her touch was electrifying. “Is all of this for me?” you once again nodded. “I need to hear your pretty voice. Speak up for me, sweetheart.”

“Yes… It’s all for you.” you managed to sputter out.

“Mmh…” she hummed happily with the answer, smirking when you let out a loud moan as she pushed her middle finger inside of you, instantly hitting that spongy spot that could make you come over and over again. “Then I guess that if it’s all for me… I could have a taste. Isn’t that right?” your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you suddenly felt her tongue around your clit at the same time as she thrusted her finger in and out of you, slowly enough to have you gripping at her hair and bucking your hips in search of more.

She complied, starting to eat you out like a woman starved. And she kind of was, having been craving you for years and years… She craved you, needed you so badly that her composure had plummeted once you’ve told her that Ellie had touched you, kissed you, tasted you first…

She wanted you. Wanted you to be solely and completely hers.

“Ah, Abby, shit…” you were so sensitive. More than usually. Was it because Abby was too good at eating you out or because it was Abby who was eating you out?

“Louder, baby. I need you to be louder for me.” she said before going back to you, her tongue lapping up at your juices and adding another finger. Their thickness made you cry out her name loud enough for the whole floor to hear. You just hoped that there was no teacher doing the check-ins that night or you’d be screwed.

“Abby, I’m… I’m gonna…” your grip tightened on her hair.

“You’re gonna come? Gonna come on my face, hm?” she curved her fingers upwards, relentlessly hitting your g spot over and over again, pulling you closer to your orgasm. “Go ahead, come for me. Let me have it.”

She didn’t need to say it twice. With her tongue back circling your clit, you moaned as you came, harsh, on her tongue, her helping you to extend you climax by thrusting in and out her fingers whilst lapping at your release, drinking everything you had to offer in between moans and hums.

When she let go of you, licking her two fingers clean, you were a flustered mess; with your hair sticking everywhere, red cheeks, swollen lips and glossy eyes. And she wasn’t that different from you, with her chin and red puffy lips shiny with your juices, her cheeks were flushed and her hair a beautiful blonde mess that you had created in between tugs and caresses. She looked beautiful, so beautiful that you couldn’t help dragging her towards you to taste yourself off of her lips, one of your hands finding her aching pussy, soaking her panties. She groaned in your mouth, pulling from your hair to part ways.

“Abby…” you cried out, your eyes half-lidded with need, your pussy aching for her.

“What is it, hm?” oh but she already knew… “Haven’t you had enough already? I gave you my fingers and my mouth, is that not enough for you? What a needy slut…” you moaned at her harsh tone and degradation, the contrast with the recent praise making your skin burn and your body cry for her. You needed her so badly… So much that you swore you could die. “Want me to fuck you, hm? Want me to make you cum all over my cock? Have you all brainless as I use you?”

“Yes please Abby, please, I want it.”

“So pretty begging for me, do you want it that bad?” you nodded, squirming under her touch and whimpering when she gave your thigh a harsh slap. “Can’t hear you, beautiful.”

“Yes.” you cried out, loving how harsh she was treating you, loving the idea that she would use you just for her pleasure.

“Then say it. Beg me to fuck you.” another spank.

“Please Abby, I want you to make me cum all over your cock, please, please, please… I need it. I need you.” tears swelled in your eyes as you stuttered.

“Good girl. Wasn’t that hard, was it?” she said with a smirk, quickly shoving his sweats and underwear down her thighs to discard them aside and reach out for her drawers, pulling out her strap. You almost choked at the size. You couldn’t take that.

It was huge. So thick and large that you knew that she’d tear you apart, stretch you out so good that would leave you sobbing and drooling against her pillow as she fucked into you over and over again.

“What? Bigger than William’s?” she teased you as she towered over you, strapping it to her waist. You would have answered if you weren’t too focused on the pink of its head and on the veins of its sides. On her pussy too. “You’re staring, pretty girl.” you blushed, looking away and into her eyes.

“Shut the fuck up and fuck me, Abby.” you snapped, and she groaned, once again pinning you underneath her and kissing you feverishly. You parted your legs for her to position herself in between them.

“There it is. That fucking mouth of yours. How about I fuck the attitude out of you, hm?” you gasped on her mouth when you felt the head of the strap play with your cunt, slowly dragging up and down in between your slicked folds to lube it up, teasing you at your entrance, pushing just the slightest against it. You were so fucking wet… More than you had ever been before.

“Fuck Abby, please…” you whimpered, your hips thrusting against the tip of her cock. You needed it inside.

Your nails found her back as she finally, after hearing your pleads and begging, aligned herself and started to push the tip of her cock inside, leaving you breathless at the stretch.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” she hushed you as you whimpered with every inch. “You are gonna do good for me, isn't that right baby? You are gonna take it, gonna take my cock and cum on it over and over again, right?” you nodded, sinking your nails deeper in her skin, deep enough to make her bleed. But Abby didn’t care, ‘cause she was finally making you hers, and you were so goddamn tight she was losing her mind. She couldn’t even pull backwards at the clenching of your walls.

You were crying of pleasure and due to the overwhelming sensation of her huge cock when she finally had settled herself fully inside, the tip reaching places you’d never dreamed of, the girth stretching your walls so good it was almost painful. Almost.

"Fuck. Look at you. Already crying and I haven't begun to fuck you yet.” you moaned when she started to slowly fuck into you, so deep that you were going crazy. You needed more, so much more. “Shit, you’re so fucking wet.”

“More. Please Abby, more.” you called out for her, your whimpers filling the room more and more as she started to move faster and faster.

“Yeah, that’s right. Fucking take it.” she groaned, lost on how good you felt. She never wanted to leave. Never wanted to stop feeling you this close. “Such a good girl.”

You moaned, your eyes turning white at the pleasure. This was like nothing you had experienced before.

“Tell me, did Williams fucked you this good, huh?” she asked, taking your cheeks with her right hand as she rolled your clit with her left to make you look at her. “Did she make you drool? Made you cry?”

You shook your head, but she wasn’t happy with that.

“Say it. Say that no one’s has fucked you like me. Say it, baby. Use that pretty mouth of yours.”

“No one has ever… ever fucked me like you.” you somehow achieved to say in between moans and gasps.

“That’s right. Look at you, your pussy is taking me so good… Sucking me in as if you don’t want me to leave.”

Suddenly you were in all fours, your chest against the mattress as she pounded inside of you harder and harder, so hard that you could feel her in your cervix, hitting your sweet spot over and over again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” you cried out, drooling on her pillow, tears spilling due to how good she was making you feel.

Her hands found your hips, pulling you against her hips with every hard thrust, leaving you breathless.

You were a babbling and moaning mess, incapable to form any words, even her name.

“Look at you, so cock drunk you can’t even speak.” she said, and moaned when the strap rubbed perfectly her puffy clit. “Such a slut.” you whimpered when she gave you a harsh slap on your ass, her eyes focusing on how her dick disappeared in and out of your pussy, which now seemed to be molding around her and just her.

“Abby…” you dragged the ‘y’ as she sped up, fucking you brainless, calling her name over and over again.

She could feel the way you started to clench around the silicone. The wet noises of your juices and her thrusts filled the room with your high pitched moans. You were close. So fucking close…

“Abby, I’m gonna cum… I’m gonna…” your voice was so fucked up due to your screams that you swore you’d have a sore throat tomorrow morning, but you didn’t care.

“That’s alright sweetheart. Why don’t you come all over my dick, hm? Let me see you fall apart.” and you did. You came so hard you saw stars, your ears ringing as you squirted all over her bed sheets. “Fuck, good girl. Good. fucking. girl.” she groaned at the sight of your cunt gushing around her whole cock.

You were an incoherent mess as you came over and over again, drooling on her pillow and throwing her over the edge with a ‘fuck’.

And maybe and just maybe, you stopped hating Abby that much from now on.

‘Cause we all know what they say… From hatred to love there is only one step.

-

a/n; i hoped y’all liked this college abby!! love you!!!!🩵

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<33333

[wintrwinchestr]

strangers | part 1

summary: following in the footsteps of a girl you once knew, you decide to up and leave home one morning without looking back. when you find yourself to be tired, hungry, and alone in the middle of nowhere, you're thankful when a kind stranger offers you a ride, a warm meal, and a place to sleep for the night. he only tells you about himself in bits and pieces, but he seems trustworthy enough, and what you don't know can't hurt you, right?

!!PLEASE READ WARNINGS, THIS IS A VERY DARK FIC!!

I've tried to label this fic as detailed and as boldly as possible. I will not be held responsible or bullied off the internet if you choose to read this potentially upsetting/triggering work of fiction anyway.

warnings: joel miller x f!reader, 18+, smut, age gap (reader is college-aged, joel is mid-50s), no outbreak au, serial killer!joel, dark!joel, talk of death/murder and blood, mommy & daddy issues, brief talk of domestic violence, lying/gaslighting, manipulation, f-receiving non-con somnophilia (no sex, but groping, fingering, dry humping, kissing, and choking), degrading language toward victims, pet names (baby, darlin', sweetheart), some joel pov, no ellie/sarah but tommy has an unnamed daughter, somewhat inspired by "strangers" by ethel cain, takes place in illinois/ohio/indiana, vaguely set in the 70s/80s, this part is mostly introduction/storytelling/yapping, please respectfully let me know if i missed anything and i will rectify the tags

word count: 9.8k

a/n: i started this as a oneshot way back in november, and then it sat abandoned for a very long time. thank you to my lovely friends @polaroidpascal and @chippedowlmug for encouraging me to finish it, and also bestie kiers who never hesitates to match my freak. also thank you to the many writers who made me feel inspired to write something dark and not give a fuck what people think about it. i hope you enjoy this joel he's a freak and i love him and if you say anything mean about him i'll send him after you <3

divider by @saradika

series masterlist/moodboard

read this chapter on ao3

part 2

Ruby Carpenter.

You had spent all day trying to remember her name without really knowing why. Maybe it’s because as the sun sets on what would be the first day of your junior year at the nearby state school, you wonder if she ever made it to one of the fancy ivy leagues she had always aspired to attend. You wonder if she’s even still alive.

Ruby had disappeared a few years ago now, the summer after your senior year of high school. For nearly a year afterwards, her missing posters remained stapled onto every telephone pole and stuck onto every store window around town, until the paper began to disintegrate and the ink began to fade. In that time, you couldn’t even make a quick run to the grocery store without being confronted by dozens of replicas of her yearbook photo printed onto the sides of all the milk cartons. Despite all of the efforts to find her, including several search parties and a decent amount of statewide media coverage, everyone had just stopped looking for her, eventually. Even the police. Even her parents.

It was decided that she had probably just run away, and you can’t entirely blame her, but you can’t imagine why she would, either. You remember her perfect head of blonde ringlet curls that shone a yellow gold in the sun, and her bright blue eyes that turned fiery in her more passionate moments during classroom debates. She had every boy in your grade wrapped around her finger, was the teacher’s pet in every class, and it wasn’t even a question whether she would win prom queen your senior year. She was always sweet to you, always complimented your outfits or your makeup or your art projects with a genuine lilt in her voice and a kind smile, so you could never bring yourself to hate her even though it would’ve been so easy to. You figured she was going to cure cancer or become the president after you had all graduated, which is why you never really stopped wondering whatever happened to her that summer. She was beautiful, with boundless potential and a bright future ahead of her, why would she have just given it all up?

Everyone around town knew Ruby, or at least it seemed that way. But maybe nobody ever really knew her as well as they thought. Maybe she’d had a secret boyfriend all that time who whisked her away that summer, maybe she had decided to try drugs and fell down a rabbit hole that she couldn’t claw her way out of, maybe she had finally figured out that the only thing this town would ever be good for is holding people back. Maybe she did just wake up one day and decide to run without ever looking behind her.

Maybe you should do the same.

With your dad long gone now and your step-father doing a piss poor job of filling in the hole he left, following in Ruby’s footsteps has sounded like a better idea with each passing day. Rob isn’t even really your step-father, anyway, just your mom’s sorry fucking excuse for a boyfriend. The guy’s already been married upwards of three times before, why try for another one? He’s a lazy son of a bitch who can’t hold down a job at a fast food joint for more than a couple of weeks at a time, who sleeps every second of the day that he’s not chugging through a six pack, and who leaves marks on your mother uglier than his fucking face. 

She doesn’t deserve to be treated that way, of course, but it’s not like she’s winning the “mom of the year” award any time soon, either. She’s never even been nominated. She’s forgotten just about every one of your birthdays, been the reason you’ve never had any friends come over, and in her most recent offense, blew all the savings you had put away for your last two years of college. Which is why you’re not spending tonight celebrating being one year closer to at least having an official-looking piece of paper to show for yourself. Instead, you’re using the rattling of your bedroom window unit and the booming bass of your radio to drown out yet another drunken screaming match between your mother and the guy she lets live in your house now, watching the world outside pass you by and knowing that if you don’t do anything about it now, you’ll never make it out of here. You’re thinking about Ruby Carpenter, hoping she found somewhere greener and more promising and was able to make something of herself, far away from here. And you’re thinking that this rusted orange sunset is the last one you’ll ever see from your bedroom window.

It’s decided, then. You’re leaving, first thing tomorrow.

—

You’ve only gotten a few hours of sleep by the time your alarm clock chimes to life at five o’clock on the dot. You’re quick to silence the shrill beeping with a swift swat of your hand, careful not to wake anyone else in the house. The sun has just barely begun to stream in through the blinds of your bedroom window, but it illuminates the room just enough for your eyes to land on the backpack you had stuffed full of a few changes of clothes last night, waiting for you by the door. 

You don’t waste any time stripping off your pajamas and pulling on just about the only clothes left in your room that aren’t in your bag. You’ve got your teeth brushed, face washed, and hair tamed in all of about ten minutes, too anxious to spend even one more unnecessary second in this house. You swing your backpack over your shoulder, pull your bedroom door open at just the right speed so that the hinges don’t squeak too loud, and tiptoe delicately down the stairs, careful to avoid the creaky floorboards that you know like the back of your hand—the one three steps from the top, the one at the landing about halfway down, and the very bottom one.

You land softly when you leap over that tattletale bottom step, successful in the most difficult part of your escape plan so far. Rob is passed out on the living room couch in typical fashion, his mouth full of crooked teeth hanging open as his grating snores permeate the calm morning air. He’s still got a death grip around an empty beer can, even in his sleep, and your mother will likely be the one to toss it into the trash for him, useless fucker that he is. You aren’t going to miss either of them, and you imagine they’ll just skip trying to replicate the first half of the aftermath of Ruby’s disappearance altogether—no posters, no search parties, no police. You’ll just be gone, one less mouth for your mother to feed. Though, you’d been mostly feeding yourself since you were tall enough to slide a couple of bills across the counter at the corner store down the street, anyway. You’re ready to disappear, the same as candle wax when it burns, the same as the end of a rainbow, the same as Ruby Carpenter.

You don’t bother looking back when you shut the door behind you, content to leave it all behind just as the sun begins to rise and set the sky ablaze. By the time it sets again tonight, you hope to be in a different county, in a different state, anywhere that isn’t here. The rest, you’ll just have to figure out when you get there, wherever “there” may be.

—

You had only realized about an hour ago that you’d forgotten your cheap digital watch in the drawer of your bedside table, where it’s laid unused for the past couple of months, because who needs to tell time during the summer? You never had anywhere to be, never had to get to class or turn in a paper by a certain time, so it’s just been collecting dust since you had unclipped it from your wrist on the last day of spring semester. It sure would have come in handy right about now, when you have no fucking clue what time it is. The sun had disappeared behind the hills several mile markers back, so it must be… eight o’clock? Ten o’clock? Fucking midnight? You have no idea. What you do know is that you’re exhausted, hungry, and your feet hurt like hell. You aren’t really sure what you expected, the reality only just now setting in that you don’t even have ten bucks to your name anymore, thanks to your narcissist of a mother. The crumpled up bills you do have in your pocket are hardly enough for a goddamn sandwich, let alone a motel room. The cool night breeze raises goosebumps on your skin, and you swear you can see your fucking breath, even in the middle of August. You wrap your arms around yourself just as tears begin to prick at your waterlines, and you let them fall as you collapse onto the scratchy patch of dead grass on the side of the freeway, not a park bench or a bus stop or even a gas station in sight for God knows how many more miles.

You sit cross-legged, elbows propped up on your knees so that your hands can support your weary head, the skin of your palms becoming slippery with salty tears as your crying just doesn’t seem to stop. The road you’ve found yourself on seems relatively low-trafficked, the heaving sounds of your sobs accompanied by more cricket chirps and rustling wheat than rumbling tires. But a few high beams do streak across your vision every once in a while, coloring the backs of your eyelids a flaming scarlet.

After several minutes, your tears seem to dry up on their own, your body likely too dehydrated now to produce any more. You wipe the moisture from under your eyes with the back of your hand, sniffling as you gnaw at the skin of your bottom lip and debate if you should just turn back now, give up on your stupid little plan (or lack thereof) and just call the whole thing a loss, pretend it never even happened. Your mother and Rob won’t have even noticed you’d left.

Just as you pull yourself back up to your feet, set on at least finding somewhere that isn’t the hard ground to sleep on tonight before you make your way back home tomorrow, the warm headlights of an old pickup truck are shining bright in your eyes. You put your arm up to block them as the truck slowly squeals to a halt in front of where you’re standing, and you squint your eyes at the driver as your vision adjusts.

“You need a ride, sweetheart?” A man asks in a gravelly voice, and you can still hardly make out what he looks like. Based on the southern accent you pick up on, he doesn’t sound like he’s from around here. 

“N-no, thank you. I’m okay,” you respond shakily, taking a nervous step back from the stranger and his rusted pickup.

“You sure? Looked like you were cryin’ over here, like you might be lost or somethin’.”

“‘M not lost, I know where I’m going.”

“Oh yeah? Where’s that?”

Shit. 

You take a guess.

“Um… the motel down the road,” you reply, tilting your head in the direction you had been walking in.

“There ain’t a motel down there, sweetheart. Ain’t nothin’ in either direction for miles, ‘s all just farmland out here. Reckon you’ve already figured that out, though.”

You pause, unsure of what your next move should be. He knows you’re lying, knows you’re alone with no fucking idea where you are or where you’re going. You could run, but even that shitty truck of his could catch up to you in a matter of seconds. You take another step back, swiveling your head around to look up and down the road as you try to figure your best way out of this.

“Just lemme give you a ride somewhere, darlin’. There’s a diner just off the exit, ‘bout twenty miles up ahead. Could take you that far, at least, get you somethin’ to eat,” he offers. A warm meal does sound pretty good right now, and you suppose you aren’t exactly in a position to refuse his help.

You think on it for a second. “What’s it called? The diner.”

The stranger huffs. “Moody’s.”

“What do they have?” you challenge.

He sighs. “It’s a fuckin’ diner off the side of the freeway, darlin’. They got greasy food and black coffee, ‘s about all you need.”

You don’t say anything.

Then, after a beat—“They got some kinda sloppy mess they call the Thunder Burger. ‘S got onion rings and shit on it. Ain’t half bad.”

You have to admit, he’s passing your pop quiz with flying colors. His answers have been too quick, too specific for him to be lying to you. There’s a pretty solid chance this diner does exist, and that he’s been there before. The man hasn’t said anything that’s indicated he wants more to do with you than to offer you a ride and some dinner. He’s probably just somebody’s harmless grandfather, anyway, judging by his motheaten flannel and gray-stricken beard you can see now that you’ve approached his truck a few paces closer.

“Okay,” you concede, your stomach growling loudly as the man leans over the bench seat to pop open the passenger side door for you. You shrug off your backpack and climb into the cabin, clicking your seatbelt into place as you situate yourself on the cracked leather seat. 

“All set?” the stranger asks.

“Mhm,” you hum, finally getting a better look at the man you might just owe the rest of your life to after tonight. For being somebody’s grandfather, he’s… kinda handsome. Really fucking handsome, actually, in a rugged sort of way. He’s got warm amber eyes that sparkle even in the dark of night, a kind smile that completely disarms you in an instant, and a splintering scar across the bridge of his nose that somehow only adds to his good looks. You try to suppress your own grin as you look away from him quickly, opting to focus on fidgeting with one of the fraying edges of your denim shorts instead. Even in your peripheral vision, you don’t miss how his eyes shift from your own to the exposed skin of your thighs. He doesn’t say anything, just clears his throat as he shifts gears and steers his truck back onto the road again. 

He lets the next few minutes pass in comfortable silence before asking, “You got a name, sweetheart?”

You tell him, and he flashes another charming smile at you. “I like that, ‘s pretty… Well, I’m Joel. Sure you were wonderin’. Now you ain’t gettin’ a ride from a stranger no more, are ya?”

“Yeah, I guess I’m not,” you giggle, and you’re surprised at how comfortable you feel with him. “So… you’ve been to Moody’s before?”

“Handful of times, yeah. When I’m passin’ through.”

You nod. “So you come up here, like… for work or somethin’?”

Joel chuckles. “Or somethin’. You never even heard of the damn place, so… reckon you don’t find yourself out here very often, do ya?”

“No… ‘M not even really sure where ‘here’ is, to be honest. I just kinda… started walking.”

“Ah… a runaway, then, are ya?” Joel asks, with an appreciated amount of understanding in his tone rather than judgment. “‘M sure your folks are missin’ ya right about now, must have your boyfriend worried sick.”

You scoff at that. “Fuck no. They probably don’t even know I’m gone, won’t even bother trying to come look for me. And I don’t have a boyfriend, so…”

“Damn shame. ‘M sorry about that, sweetheart,” Joel comforts, placing a large calloused hand on your thigh. It makes your breath hitch, but his touch isn’t entirely unwelcome. You let him squeeze once at the plush of your leg before he replaces his hand on the wheel, and your cunt spasms out a little fluttering pulse against the seam of your shorts, despite yourself.

The rest of the drive to Moody’s is relatively quiet, save for the gentle crooning of an old country singer emanating from the cassette player on the dash. The soft singing and steady strumming of a banjo combined with the muffled chugging of the truck’s engine is enough to lull you to sleep, especially after the day you’ve had. You know that just about every mental alarm bell you have should be screaming at you to jump out of the car, to run, that sleeping alone in the dirt would’ve been a better decision than getting into this strange man’s—Joel’s—truck, but you’re too tired to hear them. He smells good, like woodsmoke and pine and cinnamon, and if he wanted to do something awful to you, he probably would’ve done it by now. So you trust him, for now at least, and let your lashes fan out against your cheeks as your head falls back against the cushioned headrest, coaxed into sleep by the lullaby of tires against pavement and fingertips against guitar strings.

—

You only rouse when you feel the truck come to a stop about half an hour or so later, slowly blinking your eyes open against the bright neon sign that reads “MOODY’S” in bold capital letters. Your jaw stretches wide as a yawn overtakes the muscles, and you hear Joel’s southern drawl replace the one from the cassette as he shuts the engine off.

“Mornin’, sleepyhead. Not too tired to eat somethin’ now, are ya?”

Another unpleasant-sounding rumble from your empty stomach answers for you, loud enough for both of you to hear this time. The air puffing out of the diner’s kitchen smells strongly of fatty bacon and rich coffee, just like Joel had promised you the place would offer. Although the digital clock on the dash read just after 10:30 before you fell asleep, you’ve never craved breakfast quite like you do right now. You absentmindedly lick your lips as you imagine the sweet and savory—and more importantly free—meal that could be waiting for you beyond that blinding beacon of a sign.

“Well, alright then. Let’s get some food in ya before you keel over, hm?” Joel says as he exits the truck, landing on his feet in the dirt parking lot with a soft groan. He waits by the hood for you to meet up with him, and you walk up the couple of steps to the entrance together. He holds the door open for you, and you offer him a shy ‘thank you’, to which he responds with a soft spoken ‘welcome, sweetheart’. You stand shyly behind his broad form as he asks the hostess for a table for two, and she leads you to a green leather booth tucked into the corner of the diner. She hands each of you a sticky laminated menu, the pages a charming mess of clashing colors and faded pictures and retro-looking fonts, then departs with a promise that your waitress will bring the two of you some water as you take your time deciding on what you might like. 

You light up upon reading that Moody’s serves breakfast all day, and that they can make you exactly what you were hoping for—a stack of chocolate chip pancakes with sides of bacon and hashbrowns. You can’t help but smile to yourself as you wiggle in your seat, excitedly anticipating the waitress to come back around so you can order.

“Whatcha so excited about over there?” Joel asks, eyeing you from across the table as he glances up from his own menu.

“Nothin’, I was just hoping I could get some pancakes, and they have ‘em on the menu,” you explain giddily. “I’ll probably get some coffee, too, really complete the whole ‘breakfast for dinner’ thing.”

Joel huffs through his nose. “Decaf, I hope. ‘S the middle of the goddamn night, sweetheart. Gonna be bouncin’ off the walls in the room later, hardly get any sleep.”

He’s right, you suppose. But wait—“What room?”

Joel shrugs casually. “There’s a decent motel another exit or two down, figured they could probably get us a couple o’ beds for the night. But, ‘m sorry, shouldn’t have assumed—”

“No! No, it’s okay.”

Is it? You only met the man less than an hour ago, and you already agreed to let him give you a ride before you even knew his name. You suppose you hadn’t really thought about what would happen after he bought you dinner, but not thinking ahead seems to have been a theme today, hasn’t it? You remind yourself that he’s only been kind and respectful to you so far, save for that placement of his hand on your upper thigh soon after he picked you up. But that could’ve just been a friendly, paternal gesture, right? And he said a couple of beds, when he mentioned the motel, which seemed to imply that he plans on the two of you sleeping in separate beds, maybe even separate rooms. You’ve found yourself having to make yet another somewhat reckless decision tonight, but one that would be in your best interest to say ‘yes’ to, at this point. What other option would you have if you declined his offer?

“Don’t really have anywhere else to go, so… yeah, okay. Motel sounds good. And decaf it is, I guess.”

Joel’s apologetic expression quickly morphs into a satisfied smirk. “Good girl,” he praises. You like how the words sound coated in his thick drawl, even though you probably shouldn’t. You shift where you sit as that familiar fluttering sensation returns to the seat of your panties, just for a moment. You’re grateful that the waitress arrives at the booth not a second later, cheerily introducing herself as she sets down a glass of water for each of you. When she asks if you’re ready to order, Joel gestures to you as if to say ‘ladies first’, and you politely prattle off your request. You make sure to emphasize that you’d like your coffee decaf, and ask if she could please bring some more of the little cups of vanilla creamer to the table. “Not a problem, honey,” she replies, and Joel winks at you as she asks what she can get for him. He orders the Thunder Burger he had told you about earlier, and a black coffee, which he doesn’t request to be decaf. The waitress leaves the two of you alone again with an ‘I’ll have that right out for ya,’ and you let your eyes follow the calming baby blue color of her dress as she glides her way back to the kitchen. When she disappears around the corner of the bar, you take the opportunity to study Moody’s other patrons. There isn’t another young person in sight, mostly just men around Joel’s age with similarly heavy bags under their eyes, likely truck drivers indulging in their first hot meal of the day within the diner’s comforting wood-paneled walls. You wonder if that’s how Joel knows about this place, because he “passes through” this area on long hauls across the midwest. You open your mouth to ask him if your assumption is correct, but he cuts you off before you can say anything.

“I gotta admit, sweetheart, I’m curious… The hell was a pretty thing like you doin’ out in the middle of goddamn nowhere tonight? I mean, I know you’re a runaway ‘n all, but… shouldn’t you be one o’ those college party girls or somethin’? ‘M sure you got plenty of friends wonderin’ where you are.”

You sigh, shaking your head as you distractedly pick at a splintered piece of wood at the edge of the table.

“I was in college. Was supposed to be going back again this year, but… my mom spent all the fucking savings I had left for the rest of it on fixing up her dumb boyfriend’s car. It’s just been sitting in the fucking lawn all summer, sure as hell not being used for something useful like going to the job he doesn’t have. That bastard…” You say the last part under your breath through gritted teeth.

“Shit… Tha’s a tough deal, baby, ‘m real sorry to hear that,” Joel comforts. “But y’know, everybody’s got mommy ‘n daddy issues, don’t mean you just up and start walkin’ all by your lonesome, not even have any idea where you’re goin’.”

“Well, it wasn’t just that. There was… nevermind, it’s stupid.” You slump into the cushioned booth, silently cursing yourself for even bringing it up.

“What is it?” Joel pushes, sitting up straighter to show you that he wants to listen, wants to get to know you. And God dammit, he might be the first person you’ve met in a long time who actually seems to care about what you have to say, as strange as it is. You flick your eyes up to his face, and he’s wearing a sincere gaze that convinces you to continue.

“There was this girl I went to high school with. She disappeared a couple of years ago, nobody ever found out what happened to her. People figured she probably just ran away, and I thought… I dunno. That maybe she had the right idea, leaving that place behind. I always held onto this hope that maybe she was still out there somewhere actually doing something with her life, that maybe she just changed her name or something and disappeared on purpose.” You pause. “I guess I just thought I might be able to do the same, if I left.”

“I see…” Joel muses sympathetically. “Maybe I oughta give you a lil’ more credit, then. Must’a been tough losin’ a friend like that, not knowin’ where she ended up.”

“I mean, Ruby wasn’t really my friend. She just—”

“Hang on. Ruby, you said?” Joel interrupts, his eyes suddenly looking a little wild.

“...Yeah. Her name was Ruby. Ruby Carpenter.”

—

Fuck.

Joel has to adjust himself under the table, his dick now hardening uncomfortably in his jeans at just the mention of her name. He remembers Ruby, remembers chuckling to himself when he realized the irony of her name matching the color of her blood, remembers watching the news coverage of her disappearance in this very same diner, those handful of years ago. She was a sweet thing, he remembers this, too. It was a shame she had ended up being such a fighter, that she had to get put down the way she did. But she shouldn’t have thrown that fucking rock at his face, called him a sick fuck and a freak as she made her pitiful little escape attempt. Joel is lucky that all he came away from it with is that ugly little scar that mars the bridge of his nose. He can’t say the same for her.

“Why? You heard her name before?” You ask him, an unfortunate little twinkle of hope in your eyes.

“Maybe.” Yes. “Sounds a lil’ familiar, might remember hearin’ about it on the news or somethin’.”

That goddamn news coverage sure as hell taught him a lesson. Joel had spent months trying to keep the cops off his fucking tail after he had dumped her body on some forgettable patch of land behind an old decaying barn. He had even gotten pulled in for a fucking interview at the station in what he now presumes to be your hometown, where they had questioned him for an hour or so about her disappearance. He still isn’t sure how he talked his way out of that one. Ruby might not have been good for much else, other than pissing him the hell off with all of her pathetic crying and begging to just please, please let me go back home, but she did help him perfect his craft, he can give her that much. It’s because of her that Joel makes certain now that any girl he picks up doesn’t have anybody who will miss her or plaster her face on every local channel or send out goddamn search parties to find her. Girls like you.

You’re just so perfect, it would be so fucking easy for him to make you disappear for good, it’s almost comical. It had hardly taken any convincing at all to get you to climb into his truck, had taken even less to get you to agree to go to some seedy ass motel with him that might not even exist, for all you know. It does, but you didn’t even try to test him about it this time, just put all of your trust in him like a stray puppy would to the first person to pick it up off the street. That is just about what you are, he supposes. So far, you seem like the perfect candidate to become his little captive pet. If you keep it up, maybe you won’t meet the same fate as the rest of them. He’d told himself he’d be done after the last one, anyway, his body too old and achy and slow now to chase after the ones who put up a little more fight, like she had. She’d nearly escaped, made it a decent way through the woods and almost reached the main road before tripping on an exposed root and snapping her ankle. He remembers how weak and scared she’d looked before he’d used his knife to put her out of her misery, and it makes his dick twitch. Joel doesn’t plan on snuffing you out, not right now at least, since you haven’t given him a reason to. But his fingers still twitch where they rest on the table, moving out of instinct as he can’t help but imagine what they’d look like wrapped so tightly around your little throat. Would you cry? Would you beg? Would you pray? Would he have to glide his blade across your vocal chords just to get you to stop screaming so fucking loud? He wonders.

“Oh… Was that one of the times you were just ‘passin’ through’ for whatever reason you haven’t told me yet?”

Joel hadn’t realized that his eyes had been unfocused for so long, or that he’d been holding his breath, or that his hand had been squeezing his glass of water so hard he’s glad it hadn’t shattered. The airy sound of your voice brings him back to reality, and he huffs a light chuckle as he fixes his face into a more pleasant expression. 

“Yeah, ‘spose it was.” 

You roll your eyes at him playfully. “Come on, Joel. I just told you, like, my whole sob story. I feel like I deserve to know at least one thing about you now.”

You have a point.

He gives in. “Fine. I got a brother, used to come through this area when I’d pay him a visit. That good enough for ya?”

You cross your arms. “No. What’s his name?”

“Tommy.”

“What’s he look like?”

“Like me. Little younger. Little uglier.”

You laugh at that.

It makes Joel smile.

Maybe you could be the one he’s been looking for all this time. Too bad he had to waste so many others before he finally got to you.

—

The waitress comes back to your table soon after that, with your steaming plates of delicious-smelling food and hot mugs of coffee balanced expertly on a large plastic tray. She sets them down in front of the pair of you with a cheery smile, and you thank her happily when she doesn’t forget the extra sickeningly sweet cups of creamer you had requested. Joel doesn’t take his eyes off you once during the interaction, not even to feast his eyes upon the monstrous burger now sitting before him, not even as he thanks the waitress for delivering it to him. His lingering gaze makes you feel a little warm, but it could just be from the heat radiating off of your plates.

“What? You’re not getting a bite of mine, if that’s why you’re looking at me,” you tease, already getting to work putting the sugary creamer to good use.

Joel just shakes his head, his caramel colored eyes still never leaving you as your coffee begins to resemble their hue. “No, ‘s not why.”

“Whatever,” you reply through a giggle, making a poor attempt to hide your girlish grin behind the lip of your white ceramic mug. 

The two of you eat your meals in relative silence, mostly enjoying each other’s company and basking in the relaxing ambience created by silverware tapping against porcelain, hushed conversations, and the local country station playing through the old radio sitting on the counter. The reception is a little spotty way out here in wherever the hell you are, so you can’t quite tell what song it is. But Joel seems to know, judging by the rhythmic bouncing of his knee under the table that creates little circular ripples in your coffee. Maybe you’ll ask him what it is later, how he knows it, if you can listen to it again in the truck together. He doesn’t seem to be as much of an open book as you’ve already given yourself away to be, and you respect that about him. It doesn’t make you any less curious, but you resign yourself to getting to know him better in the small doses he’s willing to offer you. 

You decide to begin a mental list of all the things you want to ask him later, knowing that by the time you make it to the motel tonight, you’ll be far too exhausted to do anything more than just collapse onto the springy mattress and sleep until you get kicked out of the room the next morning. You almost wish you hadn’t listened to Joel’s request for you to take your coffee decaffeinated tonight, and you still aren’t quite sure why you did. It just feels so strangely easy to give into him, to trust him, to let him make decisions for you. You suppose that’s what you’ve been needing all this time, someone to guide you and understand you and at least pretend like they care about you. Joel has shown you more concern and care and protection in the last hour or so than either of your parents have pretty much your whole life. And he’s good at this, making you feel wanted, making you feel like somebody, even in subtle ways, just by looking at you.

“A’right, why don’t you finish up, darlin’, ‘n we’ll hit the road again. Practically usin’ your pancakes as a pillow over there.”

“Oh, sorry,” you apologize sleepily, waking yourself up enough to make quick work finishing off your plate and your last few sips of coffee. 

“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout, sweetheart. Lord knows you need some rest, won’t be too much longer now,” Joel assures, fishing a few tens out of his faded leather wallet and placing them on the table. He slides to the edge of the booth and stands himself up with only a few pained noises as he straightens out his back, then offers his hand for you to take. You use it as leverage to pull yourself upright, and your hands linger in each other’s hold for a few seconds longer than they need to. The hostess thanks the two of you for stopping in when you pass her by, and Joel opens the door for you again as you leave Moody’s. He opens the truck door for you, too, and promises you that the motel is just another couple of minutes down the freeway. You make an effort to stay awake in your seat this time as Joel begins the drive, opting to gaze out the window and focus on trying to make out the sparkling constellations above the treeline. You smile privately at the moon when you find that she’s following closely behind you just as she always does, bright and full. 

She doesn’t leave your side until you reach the unassuming little roadside motel, which to your gratitude, proudly displays their vacancy on the flickering sign in the parking lot. It doesn’t look like a five star joint by any means, but you know it will serve its purpose just fine. Joel instructs you to stay in the truck while he goes about getting a room for the two of you, and you don’t object. He’d insisted that you didn’t need to be on your feet any longer than you already had been today, and you were too tired to argue with him even if you wanted to. When he returns, he taps lightly on the passenger side window so as not to startle you from the half-asleep, half-awake state you’ve found yourself in, and swings your backpack over his shoulder as he helps you out of the truck. He leads you to the room at the end of the row, and the door takes some finessing of the key and a shove of his shoulder to open. Joel flicks on the light, and you let out a disappointed-sounding ‘oh…’ when it reveals your accommodations.

There aren’t two beds like you had assumed Joel was going to request. There’s only one.

Joel catches your reaction. “‘S this gonna be alright? I know it ain’t the Ritz Carlton, but—”

“No, the room’s fine, it’s not that. I just thought… I just assumed that… I didn’t know it was gonna be, like… just the one bed.” You try to explain your discomfort as gently as possible, without seeming ungrateful for everything Joel has done for you tonight.

He looks at you sympathetically. “I know, I ain’t tryin’ anythin’, I swear. Guy told me it was the last room they had, jus’ figured it was better than nothin’.” 

You offer him a soft smile, but your eyes must still look a little wide as you begin to nervously pick at your fingernails. Joel continues, “I can take the chair if you want, darlin’. Get the bed all to yourself, how’s that sound?”

You visibly relax at that, your shoulders deflating as your smile becomes a little more genuine. “Okay, that’s good. Thank you.”

“‘Course, sweetheart. How’s about you take a nice hot shower, rinse off some o’ that dirt you picked up from walkin’ all day… Don’t suppose you got some suitable clothes in here for sleepin’ in?” Joel asks, handing your backpack off to you.

You shake your head. “Just some jeans and t-shirts, and another pair of shoes. And… y’know, some underwear, and stuff.”

Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, then rubs his fingers across his forehead exasperatedly. “I swear… it’s like you didn’t think there’d be a tomorrow or somethin’, girl. Christ.” Joel looks out the window to his truck parked just outside. “Tell you what, think I got somethin’ in the truck you can wear. Why don’t you see if they got anythin’ on the TV tha’s worth a damn, ‘n I’ll be back, alright?”

You nod, “Okay,” then set your backpack down on the drab carpet in favor of picking up the remote perched in front of the small square television. You sit yourself down on the edge of the bed as Joel leaves the room, and begin to flick through the few channels that aren’t just a screen full of snowy static.

Local news. Commercial. Game show. Commercial. Documentary. Commercial. 

Eventually, you land on what seems to be one of those old black-and-white western shows that you can never remember the name of. You only know that the reruns used to play on Sundays around lunchtime, because Rob would always be half paying attention to it with a beer in his hand when you and your mom would get home from church. For how adamant she was that you attend every weekend, she sure never called him a harlot and a sinner for not wanting to go with her. You’re not sure she had ever even tried to get him to go, but he probably didn’t own anything decent enough to wear, anyway. Whatever, fuck them. The show seems like the kind of thing Joel would like, so you let it keep playing. 

He comes back a moment later with a small stack of folded up clothes, tossing them over to where you sit on the bed. You unfold what he’s given you and examine them—a pair of simple pink cotton shorts, and a white tank top with a ditsy floral pattern scattered across the fabric. The clothing is a little more revealing than you’d like, but you figure you’d be a hell of a lot more comfortable wearing them to sleep than the denim shorts you have on now.

“These are… great. Thank you, Joel. But…” you snicker. “Should I be concerned that you have a very convenient supply of girls’ clothes in your truck?” Joel scoffs. “‘S for when I got Tommy’s kid with me, smartass. He’s got a daughter, few years younger ‘n you.”

“Okay, well, I dunno how I was supposed to know that, but… as long as you don’t have a girlfriend who’s gonna come after me for wearing her clothes.”

Joel only chuckles in response, his attention suddenly pulled to the TV.

“Gunsmoke, huh? ‘S a good choice, definitely what I’d classify as ‘worth a damn’.”

You smile to yourself, and his approval makes that warm fluttery feeling return to your belly. “I didn’t even know what it was called, just seemed like something you’d like.”

He turns back to you. “That obvious, huh? ‘S just ‘cause I’m old and southern, ain’t it?”

“Maybe a little,” you admit, making a pinching gesture with your hand.

Joel nods as he makes his way over to the armchair on the corner of the room, collapsing onto it with a groan. “Well, why don’t you go ‘n get yourself all changed and cleaned up, ‘n if you’re quick enough maybe we can finish the episode together and then get some shuteye, hm?”

You swiftly unzip your backpack to retrieve one of your clean pairs of underwear, then bound over to the small bathroom with them and your new change of clothes in hand. It’s not the most spotless one you’ve ever had to use, but you’ve honestly seen much worse. You rinse off quickly in the steaming shower, using the scratchy motel-provided washcloth to scrub the dirt from your legs, stuck to you with the sweat you worked up from God knows how many miles of walking today. 

Today. You can hardly believe it hasn’t even been a full 24 hours since you left home yet. It seems like you’ve already known Joel for days, maybe even years, as silly as it sounds. You wonder if he might just take you in after this, or if he’ll have had enough of providing for you after just one night. He seems like a man of limited means, and he’s already given you so much. If you’re brave enough, maybe you’ll ask him tomorrow, when you get to the ‘so… what now?’ part of your time together.

For now, you step out of the shower and dry yourself off with an impossibly scratchier towel, then pull on your panties and the tank top and shorts Joel provided you with.

Jesus, how much younger is Tommy’s daughter?

The shorts just barely cover your ass, and there’s a sizable gap between their waistband and the bottom hem of your top. The thin, white material of the shirt only serves to accentuate the way your nipples poke through the fabric, but you suppose there isn’t anything you can do about that.

You quietly crack open the bathroom door, and are somewhat relieved to find that Joel’s already fallen asleep in the chair. You do wish you could’ve finished the episode of Gunsmoke with him, but the end credits seem to be rolling already anyway, and you’d rather avoid being seen in your very ill-fitting pajamas. Although, you do wonder if he’d say anything, or if he’d just let his hungry gaze linger in silence again, holding himself back from touching you beyond a comforting pat on the thigh.

You pick the remote up off the bed and use it to make the TV screen sizzle to black, then tip toe over to the lightswitch by the door and turn it off, the room now completely shrouded in darkness. Joel snores softly from the chair as you blindly feel your way back over to the bed, pulling the covers back and nestling yourself underneath them. The bed is surprisingly comfortable, considering, and it doesn’t take long for your exhaustion to catch up with you. Your thoughts become slower and slower along with your breathing, and you’re asleep not even five minutes after your head hits the pillow.

—

The last room they had, yeah, right. You’re just the most pathetic little thing, aren’t you? You’ll believe just about anything that comes out of his mouth if he turns up the ‘southern charm’ dial a few ticks, throws in a feigned apologetic-looking expression for good measure. It’s sad, really. For you, anyway.

Joel fakes his snoring for another thirty minutes or so, until he’s certain you’re sound asleep. He had heard your breath even out almost immediately after you had tucked yourself in, but he had chosen to lay in wait for a little while longer, just to make sure you wouldn’t put up too much of a fight when he made his move. You don’t seem like the type, considering how you’d hardly argued with him at all tonight, like when he had convinced you to forgo the caffeine with your dinner. There’s a reason he wanted you sleepy and subdued tonight, but you didn’t know that. Joel likes how well you listen to him, how easily you do as he asks.

He also likes how warm you are, how small your body is compared to his own, the difference in size especially prominent now that he’s laying snugly against you, his front pressing firmly into the back of you. You don’t wake from his lumbering movement, only coming to slightly when you feel his arm slide underneath your body, his warm hand snaking its way beneath your tiny shirt to squeeze at your plush tits. 

You mumble out a little “Hm?”, which he’s quick to quiet with, “Sorry, darlin’. Chair was too hard on my damn back. Just go back to sleep, ‘kay?” That chair felt like laying on a goddamn cloud compared to some of the other surfaces he’s found himself having to sleep on before, but again, you don’t know that, and what you don’t know won’t hurt you. You probably won’t even remember this in the morning, how his hard cock is slotted so perfectly against your ass, especially without the confines of his thick jeans holding him back. They’re discarded onto the floor now in front of the armchair, along with his flannel shirt and jacket. Joel holds you tightly against his bare, hairy chest as he circles a roughened pad of his finger around one of your nipples, smirking to himself at how quickly the bud hardens from his touch. He knew you wanted this, and the wet spot that the fingers of his other hand are teasing in the gusset of your panties is proof of it. How long have you been leaking for him like this? Had you been soaking the seat of his truck earlier today? Filthy thing.

You still don’t rouse when he pulls your panties aside and slips a finger inside your slick cunt, or when his grip on your tit loosens in favor of sliding up higher under your tank top, his hand coming to a rest around the base of your throat as he pumps his finger in and out of your tight heat. It would be so fucking easy…

But he can’t, he won’t, because you’re not like the others. You want to get to know him, you let him take care of you, you seem to like his company, and you don’t leap out of bed and call him a fucking perv and a dirty old man for what he’s doing to you. That’s what the others would have done. It’s what they have done. And they faced the consequences.

But you’re different. You’re not like them. You’re like him. A lost soul, that’s what you are. Nowhere to call home, no one who misses you or loves you or gives a damn what happens to you. Joel’s mouth had tasted bitter when he had told you about Tommy, or rather, lied about him. Joel hasn’t seen the fucker in years, certainly doesn’t pay him any visits or watch his brat, not since Tommy had learned the truth. You better not show your goddamn face around here ever again, you understand me? Tommy had spat at him. You’re fuckin’ sick. Only reason I don’t turn your ass in myself is ‘cause you’re my goddamn brother. But if I ever fuckin’ see you again, I won’t hesitate. Better make yourself pretty fuckin’ scarce ‘fore I change my mind. That might’ve been about the only time Joel had ever taken orders from his little brother. 

That bitter flavor is cut by the sweet tang of you that he tastes on his finger now, so young and eager and fresh. The hand around your throat squeezes a little tighter, and Joel’s hips begin to move against your ass as he allows himself to suck wet kisses onto the skin under the hinge of your jaw. Softly, gently, so as not to wake you. He could come just like this, using your pliant body in your sleep, rutting himself against your still form with the taste of your pussy on his tongue and his fingers pressed against your pulse points.

He’s close when you stir again, making broken hiccuping sounds as you choke on your breath.

“Shh, shh,” Joel soothes. “You’re alright, sweetheart. ‘S just me. Just—fuck—hold still, go back to sleep, baby.” You let out a quiet whimper, squirming against him just a little bit, but return to your unmoving and silent state a second later. Joel finishes himself off quickly with another couple of shallow thrusts against you, his large hand still gripped around the column of your neck, trying to stifle his groans as he spills into his briefs. He removes his suffocating hand and keeps you pressed tightly against him for a while after that, tanned arms wrapped around your waist and breathing in your scent as he waits for you to settle back down. 

When he’s sure he won’t disturb you again, Joel releases you from his hold and pads quietly back over to the armchair, redressing himself and resuming the position you had left him in. In the morning, if you do remember any of it, you’ll just chalk it up to a very strange dream, one fueled by the desire he knows you’ve felt towards him since he picked you up. You’ll be left with a strange assuredness that he feels the same way about you, without really knowing why. 

But Joel will always know.

—

The digital clock on the nightstand only reads around 8:00 when you’re awoken by a beam of sunlight shining brightly against the backs of your eyelids, streaming in from the window’s lopsided blinds. You had gone to sleep with your back to Joel, but you find yourself facing him now. He looks kind of peaceful when he’s asleep, that permanent furrow etched between his brows finally smoothed out as he dozes. A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips, but they fall quickly when you adjust your legs and feel the cool dampness against your core, the sensation bringing back the memory of the dream you’d had last night. 

It had felt so real, but it couldn’t have been, could it? There’s no evidence that Joel had really laid next to you last night, that he’d really touched you like that, that you’d wanted him to keep going. It must just be some kind of strange side effect of the affection you feel toward the man who had rescued you, more or less. You’ll likely just part ways after today, anyway, so it’s probably best to just try and forget about the whole thing, put on a fresh pair of underwear and pretend it never happened. 

Joel is awake by the time you’re done freshening up in the bathroom, and he greets you with a raspy ‘Mornin’, sweetheart’ as you retrieve your backpack from next to the bed and shove your ruined underwear into the bottom of it. “You get some good sleep last night?” He asks, rubbing a hand over his eye.

“Mhm, the bed was nice, more comfortable than the one I had at home, honestly.” You finish zipping your backpack closed and sit back down on the bed, pulling on some socks and the lace up sneakers you had been wearing yesterday. “I hope the chair was okay, like, for your back and everything.”

“What makes you say that, baby?”

You pause in the middle of tying one of your shoelaces, turning to look at him with a confused pout. “Didn’t you…? I thought you had told me something about how the chair would be hard on your back. Like, last night.”

Joel frowns, shaking his head. “Don’t think so, darlin’. Chair was just fine.”

“Oh… Well, that’s good.”

Maybe it had just been a dream, then.

Joel hands you a few bills from his wallet, and tasks you with getting the two of you some breakfast from the gas station across the street while he cleans himself up. He tells you that he doesn’t eat much in the mornings, but that you can get yourself whatever you want, as long as you bring him back a carton of cigarettes and a black coffee. You obey eagerly, retrieving what he asked for and getting a pack of miniature powdered donuts and an equally as sugary coffee for yourself.

He’s just stepped out of the bathroom when you return to the room, and your face feels hot when you see him with his dark hair slicked back and wet from the shower. The few strands that fall onto his forehead as he laces up his boots almost make him look a little boyish, despite his whitened temples. 

“Such a good girl, thank you,” Joel praises when you hand him his items. 

You respond with a shy ‘You’re welcome’, but he doesn’t miss how you seem to light up at his words. You plop yourself down onto the worn-in chair that Joel had used as a bed last night, happily munching on your gas station donuts and sipping on your coffee. It all makes you feel warm from the inside out.

But you figure you should find out what the rest of today might look like before you let yourself enjoy the beginnings of it too much.

“So, um… We’re just gonna check out this morning and then… what?” 

“Whaddya mean, baby?”

“I mean… are you just gonna, like… take me to the nearest bus station or something?”

Joel’s confusion is written all over his face, embedded deep into those lines between his brows. You could swear he almost looks a little hurt. “Why would I do that? ‘S that what you want?” He asks softly.

You try to backpedal a little, afraid you might’ve offended him or seemed ungrateful in your question. “I just thought it might be what you want. That you probably have somewhere else you need to be, like Tommy’s or—”

“No, I don’t,” Joel says definitively.

You pause. “Okay, so—”

“You ever been to California?”

His question stumps you for a moment, seeming so random in its nature. “No.”

“You want to?”

You shrug. “I mean… sure. Maybe someday—”

“Why don’t you come with me then, baby?”

You let out an awkward giggle. “...Come with you where?”

“To California. Come with me.” Joel’s tone is genuine but firm.

“Like, today? Are you sure?”

“I mean, we ain’t gettin’ there today, darlin’. But yeah, I’m sure. We both got nowhere else to be, do we? So let’s just go, we’ll see it together.”

You beam up at him, realizing that he’s being serious. Joel does want you, wants you to be his companion, maybe even something more that you’ll discover on familiar-looking back roads and in cities you’ve only ever seen pictures of. 

“Okay,” you agree excitedly. 

Joel nods. “Okay, then. Lemme go check us out ‘n we’ll get back on the road again. Burnin’ daylight already,” he jokes. He carries your backpack out to the truck for you, setting it down between your feet after he opens the door and helps you inside with a stable hand. It only takes a few minutes for Joel to hand in the room key and pay for the night, and then he’s back at your side. You begin to feel like that’s where you always want him to stay. 

“So, where to first, baby? California ain’t goin’ anywhere, can take as long to get there as we wanna. We’ll go wherever you like, take your pick.” Joel leans across your body to dig a folded up map out of the glove compartment, handing it to you. 

You examine it, your eyes darting across the dozens of dots with the names of cities next to them, some you’ve never even heard of. You point to one that you have heard of, but have never been to, because you’ve never even left the state you grew up in before.

“Um… how about Detroit? I’ve heard it’s nice, I think.”

Joel belly laughs at that. “It ain’t, but sure. You wanna go to Detroit, that’s where we’ll go. Buckle up, baby,” he instructs, patting your thigh. You oblige, and it feels good to finally know where you’re going, and that you’re going there with someone who cares about you, who feels safe, who wants you around. You also feel a little hopeful that maybe you were right about Ruby, after all. That you didn’t start walking for nothing, that you weren’t following some childish delusion, that if something as good as Joel had happened to you when you left, that maybe she had found herself on a similar path, ran into somebody good who took her wherever she wanted to go and helped her find someplace she belonged. Maybe she found her way out to California, eventually. What you are certain of is that neither of you ever have to go back to that town ever again, and that feels good, too.

And if it feels good, then it can’t be bad.

tag list: tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg @alex-does-art-things @evolnoomym @annoyingmarvelreader @k1l4ni @joelsdagger (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

[66stitches]

Marigold (II)

𑁍 best friend!abby x reader

𑁍 Summary: Abby loved you in a way she believed you could never reciprocate. Per her friend's advice, she began to avoid you in hopes of healing her aching heart.

𑁍 CW: sfw, angst, a little bit of fluff, unrequited love, happy ending yippe, jealousy, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, reader neither described as masc nor fem, no physical description of reader besides that she is able-bodied, fighting, swearing, violence, ellie mention, a lot of crying, pet names.

𑁍 WC: 4.4k

𑁍 Daily click - Palestine masterpost - TLOU and israel

𑁍 divider creds

𑁍 Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

You buried your cold hands deep within the pockets of your maroon-colored jacket in an attempt to ward off the biting cold, each breath you took formed a slight cloud in the crisp air.

"Don't you think it's a little cold for ice cream?" You spoke, looking over at your friend walking alongside you.

"Maybe you'd enjoy it more if you actually got a good flavour."

You and Ellie wandered through the familiar town, your thoughts running as you dragged your feet across the pavement beneath you.

You tried to focus your thoughts on anything besides Abby: the cold breeze of winter stinging your nose, your coffee-flavored ice cream that, according to Ellie, tasted like burnt shit, the fallen leaves and the sound they would make when you'd step on them.

But she always managed to find her way back into your thoughts, contaminating your brain with the presence of her memories. The memories that once brought you joy were now nothing but painful.

Your steps came to a halt as you stopped by the town's bar. Wooden panels adorned with colorful string lights and a paper that read "winter dance" stapled on the entrance.

"Oh, I almost forgot about the dance tonight," Ellie spoke as she finished the last bite of her ice cream. She tossed it in a nearby bin. "You're going, right?"

The town hosted dances and gatherings quite often. It was never really your thing, but it was Abby's, being the social butterfly she is. She always dragged you along, and you were happy to follow.

But Abby was no longer with you, and now you had no reason to go.

"No, I don't think so," you replied. "Are you?"

"Yes, I am, and so are you." She said it as if you had no choice in the matter, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"Come on, don't just say no because of Abby. This is the perfect opportunity to get your mind off her," she sighed dramatically. "It's also the perfect opportunity for me to show off my dance moves."

You sighed, and though you were not yet convinced, you allowed yourself to consider it. "I don't know, Ellie.”

"Please? If not for yourself, then go for me. You're not really gonna let me go to this thing alone, are you?" she pleaded.

"Stop that. You know guilt trip always works on me."

She grinned. "I know."

"Alright," you said as you threw your hands up in defeat. "I'll go."

Ellie was right, you needed this. It was unfair for you to miserably lay heartbroken when God knows Abby was probably already out having fun, relieved to be rid of you at last. It wasn't fair for Ellie either who came a long way to see you.

𑁍

Nora slipped on her last layer of clothes and started combing back her dark hair.

"You're awfully quiet," she spoke, looking over at the blonde resided beside her, currently styling her hair into her signature braid.

Abby offered no response for a moment, simply going back to her task.

"Uh, you okay?" Nora asked.

"I'm fine, Nora," Abby replied, speaking without a glance at her friend's way. It was clear that she was lying, Nora could see that. Abby had been evidently troubled for weeks, her distressful demeanor was something no soul could miss.

Nora sighed as she placed her hairbrush down. "No, you're not. Tell me what's going on with you," she asked, though she knew she didn't need to. She knew it was you who's causing her this sorrow. In truth, that had always been the case, even long before you two had stopped talking.

"I don't know, I'm just a little worried about her, I guess," she said. Merely talking of you was most difficult for her. She had been trying to avoid the topic of you for quite some time now, always shutting her friends down when they tried to ask what happened between you and her.

"You don't have to worry about her, Abs. She's got that redhead friend of hers to keep her company." Nora tried her best to be comforting.

Abby almost had to physically stop herself from rolling her eyes at the mention of Ellie. Of course she had noticed the two of you spending time together quite often, and as happy as she was that you had someone to keep you company, she couldn't help the seeping feeling of jealousy that contaminated her to the core at the first sight of you two.

“Please, don’t talk about Ellie,” she practically groaned, not doing much to conceal her obvious jealousy which earned her a slight grin from Nora.

“Jealous, much?” Nora asked.

That’s when Abby really rolled her eyes. “Nobody said that, Nora,” she said, albeit she knew she didn’t exactly give much room to conclude otherwise.

Abby didn’t want to admit truly how jealous she was of the red-headed girl and how badly your falling out had affected her.

She no longer wept, though she always felt as if she was on the verge of doing so. She tried to distract herself with the gym, but what once brought her happiness and contentment now felt like a chore. She didn’t need a distraction, she needed you.

She envied Ellie: she envied the way she got to hold you without that awful feeling of sheer guilt in the pit of her stomach; without that nagging voice in her head telling her what a disgusting person she is.

She envied the healthy relationship Ellie had with you, how comfortable she was in sharing affection without feeling as though she was fulfilling some perverse fantasy.

She was constantly plagued by the urge to go back to you, always having to remind herself of what a horrible idea that would be, as well as Nora’s persistent lectures which stopped her from doing something so foolish.

She was happy that you had someone to keep you company and comfort you, but she still couldn’t help the way she felt about Ellie. Her jealousy eating away at her every time she saw you together, doing things you once did with her, and she felt endlessly guilty for being jealous.

“Do you think she’s going? You know, to the party?” Nora inquired.

Abby considered it. She was unsure whether she wanted you there or not.

The sight of you would dim her mood, that she knew for certain, but she missed being in the same room as you.

“Probably not. T’was never really her scene.” She sounded different whenever she would speak about you. Her tone would change significantly. She sounded softer. Sadder.

Nora considered her next words for a moment before speaking. “Do you want her there?” She asked.

Abby zoned out for a moment, contemplating.

“I don’t know.”

𑁍

You stood beneath the cold wind staring at the town’s bar. You could hear everyone inside. Dancing, talking, yelling, singing along to the music. You took a deep breath and walked in, your eyes immediately scanning for Ellie.

You found the redhead standing by the bar with two drinks in hand. She met your eyes from across the room and gave you a smile as you walked up to her.

“So you came.” She handed you a drink.

“Yeah,” you responded as you fiddled with the bottle. “You were right, I’ve got to stop moping. This is good for me.”

Ellie tilted her head and smiled. “See? Told you. I’m always right.”

Moments passed, and you mostly followed Ellie around like a lost puppy while she socialized and met some new people.

That’s something you always envied about her: how she can make friends so easily and how confidently she carried herself most times.

You two then sat at the bar, allowing yourself to rest a little as you indulged yourself in conversation.

A conversation you were no longer paying attention to, Ellie’s voice slowly beginning to sound faded as your eyes were locked on someone else across the room.

And that certain someone was watching you right back. Deep blue eyes locked onto yours, keeping you connected from the other side of the room. Her brows were furrowed. She looked pained, tired, and yet still as beautiful as ever.

You didn’t think you would ever be in the same room as Abby again, but there she was, in all her glory.

She wore a tight green shirt that hugged her strong figure in all the right ways, along with some faded brown pants that accentuated her thighs.

“Stop looking at her.”

Abby was first to break eye contact, snapping you out of the trance that were her eyes. You averted your gaze from Abby and back to Ellie.

“Again, I am so sorry. I seriously didn’t know she’d be here,” Ellie apologized for what seemed like the millionth time.

“It’s fine, Ellie”, you reassured her, but you both knew it wasn’t fine at all. You sought a fun night to distract you from the ache in your heart that was Abby, only to have her come and bring that ache with her.

You were unsure whether you were surprised to see her here or not. You knew that she enjoyed these parties, but you assumed she wouldn’t be attending this time after what had happened. Perhaps you should have known better.

“There she goes staring at you again,” Ellie groaned and rolled her eyes. “Come on, let’s just get out of here.”

“Way ahead of you.” You were already throwing the remainder of your drink and getting ready to leave. Ellie followed shortly after, but not without bidding her new friends goodbye.

You stood in the sidelines waiting for her as she moved all around the room.

You then found yourself praying to whatever god there is up there to allow the ground to open up and swallow you (or Ellie) whole, because with all of her careless wandering, she mistakenly bumped into Abby, nearly spilling the last of her drink on her. Nearly. That part you were grateful for.

“Oh shit, man, my bad,” Ellie chuckled. She did not sound the least bit apologetic. In fact, she only sounded proud of herself. You wondered if it had even been accidental at all.

Abby recognized Ellie immediately, of course she did. She was not only looking at you the whole time, but as well as glaring holes into the back of Ellie’s skull.

“Oh please, don’t pretend like that wasn’t deliberate,” Abby said harshly. Ellie grinned mockingly, glad that she managed to get such a reaction from the blonde.

“Aw, what’s making you so hostile, Abby? Makes it seem like you’ve got a personal grudge against me.” Ellie just kept pushing Abby’s buttons, speaking in the most condescending tone she could muster. If there was one thing Ellie was good at, it was riling people up.

You practically sprinted to them, grabbing Ellie’s hand and gesturing for her to leave.

You met Abby’s eyes once again, but this time was different, because now you stood close enough to really look at her again; close enough to get another hint of her intoxicating smell.

Once again, she broke eye contact.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think someone’s a little jealous,” Ellie pushed again, trying to get another reaction from Abby. She wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “You’re jealous that she’s got me now.” Ellie grinned again, enjoying the sight of Abby’s scowling face.

“Ellie!” You yelled. You were getting upset as well as embarrassed. Whatever Abby was mad at you for, she was definitely never forgiving you now. You pushed Ellie’s arm away and tried to grab her and leave once again. You were ignored.

“Jealous?” Abby scoffed, she was the one grinning now. “You’re just a replacement. You realize that, right? If it weren’t for me leaving her, she wouldn’t even spare your desperate ass a glance.”

You were left aghast at Abby’s words, Ellie clearly was too. She tried to hide it, but it was clear Abby’s words had hurt her.

You opened your mouth to defend Ellie. You loved Abby, that would never change, but you would not stand for anyone talking to Ellie like that and speaking lies about you. But Ellie interrupted you before you had the chance.

“Yeah? ‘Least I never fuckin’ ghosted her or made her feel like shit the way you did; at least she’s happy with me. So yeah, got your girl now, bitch,” Ellie retorted, looking evidently proud of herself for that last sentence. Clearly she still found this fun.

Abby’s clearly had enough of childish banter. One thing about her is that she was never afraid to get violent.

She took a step forward and shoved Ellie, nearly knocking her off her balance. You were ready to interfere, until Ellie shoved Abby right back with the same amount of zeal.

Everyone’s attention was on them now, not including those who were black out drunk. The entirety of the bar went quiet, staring at the two women in excitement. As if you thought this couldn’t get any more humiliating.

“You both are fucking childish,” you yelled and tried to get in between them.

Quite the dumb move on your end. The punch Abby threw was meant for Ellie, but with your careless action of stepping in, you were the one taking the hit, your head snapping back.

What you didn’t expect, though, was for Abby to hastily grab your face, softly cradling it between her hands.

“Fuck, marigold, are you okay? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you,” she spoke quickly. The tone in her voice was scared and replete with concern. It was evident on her face.

She seemed surprised by her own actions as well. She didn’t think nor intend to hold you like that. When it came to her, protecting you almost felt like a natural instinct.

The feeling of her hands on your skin and her face so close to yours nearly made you forget the aching pain on your cheek.

You snapped out of it swiftly and pushed her hands away from you, sending her back.

“You don’t get to call me that anymore,” was all you said. It was bitter, laced with venom. Abby looked hurt, but mostly ashamed of herself. She didn’t speak.

“Now can we just leave already?” You groaned and turned to Ellie.

“Yeah…” she breathed, still glaring holes at Abby.

You grabbed Ellie’s arm and finally left. It took everything in you not to look back at Abby. You wished you didn’t care about her so much.

You were now back at your house, examining the swollen area on your cheek which you knew would soon be a shade of purple.

You spent most of your time in your head, replaying that incident continuously.

What you truly could not manage to get out of your head was how Abby had reacted when she’d accidentally hit you. That name she called you: you were certain you would never hear her utter that word again.

You were both confused and comforted by the gesture, but you tried not to dwell on it.

“God, she’s even worse than you described. What a bitch.” Ellie had been ranting and moaning about Abby for what felt like all night.

You tried to tune her out, not wanting to think about Abby so much. Is this what Ellie felt with you?

“You should’ve let me fight her. I mean, she’s big as shit, but I could definitely take her on.” She took a moment to observe herself in the mirror. “Definitely,” she repeated.

“Ow!” You flinched as you poked your swollen skin. That got Ellie to stop her ranting and come to your aid.

“You okay?” Ellie held your jaw and observed your cheek.

“I’m fine, it’s just…” you trailed off. “You started that fight on purpose, didn’t you?”

Ellie raised her brows at your question and smiled slightly. “Nah. Trust me, if it was deliberate, I would’ve spilled my drink on her. This was just a happy accident, as Bob Ross once said.”

“Yeah, well your happy accident got me a punch to the face, but I’m glad you found it fun.” You rolled your eyes and stepped away from the mirror.

“Actually, you jumping in between us is why you got punched. Seriously, what were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted you guys to stop.”

Ellie frowned and crossed her arms, an expression of remorse scrawled upon her features. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. She’s just… she’s so fucking confusing, Ellie,” you said and buried your face in your hands.

“I know,” Ellie empathized. She wasn’t the best at comforting, always getting awkward in serious situations. But what she offered was her ear, and that was all you needed.

“I mean, what the hell was that? Did you see how she grabbed me? What she called me? Why does she think she can just do that after everything?” You were trying to remain calm, which wasn’t easy with Ellie staring at you so sympathetically. “Why does she still act like I mean something to her?”

“Maybe it’s ‘cause you do,” Ellie suggested, placing her hand on your back and offering you some much needed physical comfort.

It really did not make any sense, Abby’s actions only managing to confuse you more. Could she really have cared about you? Was there still something there, or did she merely feel guilty for hurting you?

Now what you had planned to uplift your mood and ease your sorrow had been ruined by Abby’s presence. It seemed as though she haunted you everywhere, bringing nothing but ache and destruction alongside.

𑁍

Abby felt weak.

She had tried to avoid you, as she usually did, but the memories of what had occurred the other night played endlessly in her mind, fueling her with guilt.

She’d tried to make herself stop caring, convincing herself that you meant nothing to her and that what had happened the night prior did not affect her, but to no avail.

She cared about you, and that would never change. She could avoid looking at your face as much as she wanted, but your image was forever seared into her mind.

Today was a particularly gruesome one. You did not bother to hide the bruise that formed, and Abby didn’t fail to notice.

She had tried to walk up to you and apologize, each time cowardice and shame taking a hold of her and turning her back around.

The idea of speaking to you again after everything intimidated her, which was quite unusual for someone like Abby. She never anticipated a time would come where she would be apprehensive about facing you.

Unfortunately for her, you did not lack discernment. You noticed her reluctance in making her way to you; noticed the way she was internally battling herself.

You stood outside, bidding Ellie goodbye as she left to go back home.

When Ellie was finally gone, Abby walked up to you again, and you hoped for what seemed like the hundredth time that this time she would not turn back around. You didn’t know whether you planned to forgive her or not, but you still wanted her to speak to you.

When she noticed you looking at her as she made her way to you, she stopped at a halt and turned back around.

Her actions and timidity were beginning to frustrate you, but right as you were about to speak up, she turned around once again and walked towards you, this time faster, as if she wanted to get it over with before her apprehension got a hold of her once more.

“Hey,” she spoke, her voice laced with discomfort.

The gleam in her eyes changed as she got another look at your bruised cheek, feeling infinitely more guilty.

You didn’t reply and simply waited for her to get to her point. You wanted it to seem like it was because you were mad at her (and you were), but in truth you were at a loss for words.

Because she was here. She was speaking to you; she was looking at you. It took everything in you not to break down into tears at that seemingly insignificant act.

“So…” she trailed off, eyes scanning everywhere timidly. “I just wanted to say that I am so, so sorry. For hitting you, I mean. I swear, I meant to hit Ellie but you got in the way— not that I’m saying it’s your fault, because it wasn’t—” she was rambling now, her nerves getting the best of her. If you were any less hurt, you would laugh and call her cute.

“What the hell do you want, Abby?” You interrupted aggressively, which earned you a look of both shame and bewilderment.

“To… apologize?” She said it more like a question. She was slightly rendered uneasy by your anger, but she did not blame you in the slightest nor was she surprised. It only made the guilt grow into something more unbearable.

“Apologize, huh? Don’t you think you have other things to apologize for? You think this—“ you pointed at your bruised cheek, “is what hurt me?”

Abby took another look at your cheek. She didn’t reply. She looked down and crossed her arms, hugging her sides. Your eyes followed her hands and noticed the way she dug her nails into the skin of her hips, her knuckles slightly turning white.

You remembered all the times where you would scold her for that bad habit of hers, asking her why she’s so nervous and having her brush you off and ask you not to fret.

“Just let me-“

“No, Abigail. I don’t wanna fuckin’ hear you right now,” you interrupted. “You said you never wanted to see me again, so why don’t you just stick to your word?” Your heart broke into a few more pieces at the mention of that night, remembering all the things she had said and that distant tone in her voice. Her heart broke as well, remembering how cruel she was and the painful look on your face.

“Why do you have to be so damn confusing? Why are you contradicting yourself by saying you never want to see me again, only to keep looking at me with those fucking eyes, starting childish fights, calling me marigold, and now you wanna try to talk to me and expect forgiveness?” You were yelling at this point, letting everything spill out with no control or filter.

And Abby was quiet, understanding. She was listening. Her knuckles were turning whiter with every word you spoke, her eyes slightly glistening.

“You left me without a word. You never tried to talk to me about what happened, maybe we could have fixed it!”

“You wouldn’t-”

“No!” You interrupted again, not wanting to hear her voice and only spilling what has been bottled up inside you. “Don’t speak and let me finish! You didn’t talk to me, Abby. Do you have any comprehension of how terrible I felt? Did you enjoy knowing that I spent nights wondering how the hell I was supposed to fix what you destroyed?”

“I-”

“I’m not done! What made you think that you could just walk up to me and-”

“Stop!” She was the one to interrupt you this time. “I love you,” she said before she could think. It was said quietly, softly, and this time she was looking you in the eye.

That definitely shut you up. You stood there, gawking. You were trying to form words, but none came to mind. Your head was empty, but your heart was heavy, filled with emotions you couldn’t quite place.

Abby was clearly getting anxious by your lack of response, so she spoke again.

“I don’t know if you’ll accept my reasoning for what I did, but that’s it, and I’m sorry. I did it because I loved you. Because I love you.” Her voice was shaking slightly. She was afraid. It was painfully obvious.

“Why- why didn’t you tell me?” You stuttered, dumbfounded. Of all the possibilities you considered that might have been the cause of what happened, this was something that would have never crossed your mind. Not in a million years.

“Isn’t it obvious?” She laughed, though her voice held no humor in it, laden only with pain. “I didn’t wanna lose you. I was afraid I’d ruin what we have,” she said, digging her nails even deeper into her skin. “But now I already did.”

The last part was quiet, spoken slightly above a whisper. She no longer met your eyes, detaching herself from you almost completely. She was sure this was the last time you would ever speak to her again. This is where you would let her go.

It undoubtedly hurt and scared her to reveal herself to you; to finally speak the words that were sure to cause you to let her go, but she didn’t want to be selfish anymore.

She would face her feelings and allow you to leave because of it. The words you had just screamed at her did not fall on deaf ears and she would no longer leave you ignorant to the truth and pained from the untold.

You offered no response. Endless words and confessions played in your head, but none left your mouth. You felt frozen, but you also wanted to know what else she had to say.

Abby’s apprehension only grew at your silence. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I knew you wouldn’t take this so kindly but I just needed to get it off my chest and I am so, so sorry. I understand if you don’t wanna talk-”

Her profuse rambling was interrupted by your lips on hers. Your mouth didn’t move, only feeling the soft plush of her lips against your own.

The kiss ended as quickly as it came. Her eyes were wide and she was left gawking. “So that’s how I get you to shut up,” you joked.

“Fuck, come here,” she breathed. She grabbed your face and swiftly pulled it to hers, meeting your lips in another, more passionate kiss.

You pulled her in further by the collar of her shirt. You were so close that you could feel your hearts beating against each other. You could not imagine anything more intimate.

Her lips were slightly chapped, yet still soft and plush, and she tasted beautifully. It was as if the heavens had descended from the skies and given you a taste of its richest, most forbidden fruit.

You forced yourself to separate your lips so you could catch your breath. You pulled away and met her face, her eyes heavy and mouth slightly agape. She looked beautiful like this, all blissed out. The sun kissing her face reflected the gleam in her eyes like light beams in the sky. You smiled at the scene.

“I love you too, you idiot.”

“I love you, my marigold.”

𑁍

a/n: this took so fucking long I don’t even know if people are interested in reading it anymore but here it is

Taglist

@grey-jedi12

[totheblood]

GLORY & GORE

CHAPTER ONE: NOW WE'RE IN THE RING

PAIRING: fwb!ellie williams x reader

SUMMARY: a week after you reunite with your estranged best friend, astrid, for the first time in three years, you are heartbroken to discover her sudden and brutal murder. as you dive deep into the world of sagewood university, you uncover astrid's ties to a shadowy society lurking within the institution's walls. in the midst of all of this, you cross paths with ellie, who you met on the very day you saw astrid again. as ellie helps you figure out what happened to your best friend, you're forced to wonder if everything with ellie is truly as it appears, and if trust can genuinely be given to anyone.

WARNINGS: 18+ SLIGHT SMUT mentions of death, grief, related subjects; cursing, mentions of drinking/drugs, mentions of s*x

A/N: i've been working on this one for a while... i hope you enjoy! please send asks, reblog, and reply to this post <;3

WORD COUNT: 6.3k

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched as you stepped onto Sagewood University’s campus for the first time since Astrid’s death. 

You spent the days following Astrid’s death curled up on your couch, unmoving. Your gaze was fixed on the ceiling as you let time pass by slowly, counting the clicks of the clock on your wall each second.

Your mom would check on you every now and then, before she had to leave for work or when she came back home. She would leave a plate of food on the coffee table near you, urging you to eat something, but you had no appetite. It was safe to say that you weren't taking Astrid's death well.

Suddenly, your phone chimed, a ringtone reserved for one person. 

ellie: You okay?

You picked up your phone, reading the message despite the LED lights burning your eyes. It was obvious to anyone that you weren't okay, so you declined to answer. You put your phone back on the table and stared at the same place on the ceiling. It was starting to look like a face, but you were almost sure you were hallucinating. 

The morning they found Astrid’s dead body sprawled out on a table in the library had started like a normal day for you. The sky was still dark when you woke up to your alarm and dragged yourself out of bed. You pulled on the grey hoodie that had been your staple all semester, paired with a red pair of sweatpants you had worn so much they were nearly falling apart. As you walked towards campus, the streets were silent except for the occasional chirping of birds and the crunch of gravel beneath your sneakers. But when you reached the library all seemed eerily quiet; the wide glass windows had been frosted with police tape and blocked by large, black police cars. Fear started to sink into your stomach as groups huddled together, their hushed voices filled with whimpers and tears.

“Hey, uh,” you tapped one on the shoulder, “what happened?”

“They found some girl dead,” she replied in a low voice, “Can you believe it?” 

“Do they know who it is?” you asked. Deep in your heart you already knew it was her. 

From the very first day you met Astrid, you knew you had found your person. It was like finding the other piece to a two-piece puzzle. Simple, but rare. In elementary school, she was your personal hero, unafraid to get her hands dirty—or bloody, for that matter—when that kid shoved you during recess. 

Middle school was weird for everyone, but less so for you because you had Astrid. You two invented your own secret language, a series of squiggles and lines that looked like chicken scratch to anyone else. Those notes you passed weren't just ink on paper; they were secret jokes, each scribble another knot in the thread that connected you two.

High school rolled around, and the stakes got higher, the emotions deeper. You realized you liked girls, and the moment you told Astrid, the air between you changed—but not in the way you feared. It was as if she picked up the weight of the situation and took it on as her own, lightening your load just by being there, just by listening. She didn't offer grand gestures or theatrical declarations of support; she didn't need to. Instead, she guided you, step-by-step, through the maze of coming out, as if it was the most natural path you could walk together.

And maybe it was. Because when you look back on everything, every scraped knee and every coded note, every whispered secret and every shared challenge, it all led back to a simple, undeniable truth: life was messy and confusing and downright hard sometimes—but less so with Astrid by your side.

College was supposed to be a fresh chapter, a new horizon where you and Astrid could explore the world as adults. But instead, it turned into a ripping of a page you never saw coming. Within the first week, something broke. Conversations turned into awkward exchanges, laughter gave way to silence, and the natural ease you'd always felt around her failed to exist. You guys just stopped clicking and after a big argument, you stopped hanging out altogether. She became someone you used to know, a piece of your past.

Time went by, and you got used to life without Astrid. Then, out of the blue, you got a text from her last week. She said she wanted to meet up.

She asked to meet at the campus coffee shop, Brain Brew, on a Tuesday morning. It was practically empty in there when you arrived, something that it almost never was. You came early, thinking you would need to find a seat, but now looking at all the empty chairs was less of a concern. 

Behind the bar stood a girl, with short auburn hair and freckles littered across her face, on her phone. When you approached, she straightened up, looking surprised to see you. You read the name on her nametag: Ellie. 

“Uh,” she looked you up and down briefly, “what can I get for you?” 

“What's good?” you asked, eyes scanning the expansive menu ranging from lavender latte's to plain black coffee. 

“Anything I make is good,” she shrugged, eyes still waiting for a response. 

“Then, just an iced vanilla latte,” you ordered, tapping your fingers on the counter. She tapped your order into the tablet in front of her and then stopped for a minute, looking you over again. 

“You go to Sagewood?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Yea,” your brows knit together, as you shifted uncomfortably in your place, “Why?”

“I just feel like I’ve seen you before,” she commented, the price of your latte lighting up on the screen in front of you, “6.74.”

Jesus fuck, you thought, this is why I don't come here. 

“It’s a big campus, you’ve probably just seen me around or something,” you tapped your card, looking back up at her, scanning her face to see if you remembered her from anywhere. Then it clicked, “Did you go to Weston Middle School?”

“Shit,” she breathed, shaking her head and laughing, “yea, for a year.”

“I remember you,” you laughed, a smile spread across your face, “you used to eat lunch alone every day and when I tried to sit next to you you told me to ‘Fuck off’.”

You saw her physically wince as she pulled your receipt out of the dispenser, “Fuck,” she shook her head again, closing her eyes painfully, “I’m sorry, that was not a good year for me.”

“I don't think 11 is a good year for anyone,” you joked back, taking your receipt from her, “It’s all good, don't worry about it.” 

She let out a little laugh, her cheeks growing a tinge darker as she scratched the back of her neck, “I’ll get that drink started for you,” she moved towards the espresso machine before stopping and turning back towards you, “Wait, can I get your name?” She paused for a moment, examining the expression on your face, “For the order.”

Smiling, you gave her your name, and stood at the end of the counter, waiting for your drink. Astrid was now five minutes late, and you just realized she may be standing you up. 

“Do you go to Sagewood?” you asked Ellie from across the espresso machine. She looked up at you over the machine, waiting for the espresso to brew. 

“Yeah,” she shrugged, “for psych.”

“Oh, you want to be a therapist?” you leaned your hands on the counter looking around the empty room. 

“Something like that,” she breathed out a laugh, eyes flicking up to you for a moment, “What are you doing?”

“Journalism,” you smiled, watching as she made your drink, “Do you think I could get your number?” It slipped out of your mouth before you could think. You watched as the smile from her face fell, the blood that was in her cheeks being replaced with pale skin.

“Oh, uh” she fumbled over her words almost dropping the cup of milk she was holding, “I don’t really date, it not my-”

“Oh, not like that,” you cut her off, trying to save yourself the embarrassment, “Just like as friends, I don’t really have that many around campus.” 

“Oh,” she breathed out a laugh, relief flooding her features, “Yeah, sure then. I’d love to be friends.”

When she handed you her drink she handed you her phone with the contacts app already open. You took your coffee and the phone, smiling slightly as you put your name and number in. 

“Here,” you giggled, “sorry if that was weird. I wasn’t like coming on to you or anything. I mean not that you aren’t attractive cause you are- But it’s also not like I’m not into girls, cause I am. Jesus fuck,” you whispered under your breath, “It’s just that I also... Don’t date,” you lied. 

You watched the permanent smirk on her face as you rambled off and she took her phone back and let out another breathy laugh. 

“Well, it’s not that you aren’t attractive either,” she rubbed the back of her neck, watching intently as you sipped your drink, “so if you wanted to like, I don’t know, hook up sometime, I would be down for that.” 

You practically choked on your latte when she said that, eyes wide as you tried to cover up your spluttering with a cough, “Um, yeah. That sounds cool, or whatever.” 

“Cool,” she pursed her lips, nodding before turning back to wipe the counter down, “I’ll text you.”

As if it was fate the bell rang behind you, signaling Astrid’s entrance. You turned to look at her and give her a once over. She looked a lot more frazzled since you last saw her, her blond hair was still as long and came past her shoulders, but it was frizzier as if she had just woken up. The circles under her eyes were more prominent, and when you smiled at her, she didn’t smile back. You didn’t want to approach her first, so you just waited until she came up to you and gave you a hint of a smile. 

“Should we sit?” She asked, her voice much raspier now as she looked around to the empty cafe, the tension in her body easing up.

“Sure,” you followed her lead as she led you to the back, away from any windows and farther away from the bar. You looked over to where Ellie was still working, wondering how loud you would need to shout for her to hear you. 

“What did you want to talk about?” you started, noticing her slightly anxious state as she took shallow breaths, “I mean, I missed you.”

“This isn’t about us,” her voice was cold when she spoke, the words hurting you more than you thought it would, “I just think you are the only person I can trust.”

“Okay,” you took a sip of your latte, nursing it in your hands, “do you need to tell me something?”

“No,” she took a deep breath, “Just that if something happens to me, it will have to be you to figure out who does it.” 

“Jesus,” you breathed out, leaning in to whisper back, “What the fuck have you gotten into, A?” 

She winced at the sound of her nickname, looking down at the table before looking around again at the still-empty cafe, “I should be fine,” she sighed, “but if I’m not, you will know what to do.”

“How the fuck would I know what to do?” you spoke a little louder, throwing your hands up dramatically as you leaned back, “I mean this is ridiculous, you completely blow me off freshman year and now you’re telling me I have to worry about someone who doesn’t even want to be my friend anymore?”

“You’re being melodramatic,” she blinked a few times, before sitting up straight, “I didn’t come here to fight you.” 

“No, you just came to make sure I’d be there whenever you got yourself into trouble,” your voice was harsh as you stood up from your seat abruptly, ready to leave. 

“Please, sit down,” she urged, looking up at you with her big round eyes.

“No, thanks,” you replied sarcastically, giving her a fake smile, “Go fuck yourself.”

Go fuck yourself. 

That was the last thing you ever told Astrid before she was murdered. 

The guilt followed you all the way back home that night in stunned silence. You were too shocked to even tell your professor you weren’t coming to class that day, missing a midterm. You knew you would make it up eventually, but now, all you could do was sit and stare and hope to wake up from whatever nightmare you were living. 

To make matters worse, as you sat on your bed, still dressed in your clothes from earlier a note was slipped under your door. A thick cream cardstock, with embossed trimmings covered in gold, and written delicately on the front in script, “Keep your mouth shut, or you’re next.”

At the time, you immediately threw it out, not thinking much of it. Your brain was stuffed with things you didn’t want to think about, flashes of your childhood coming back in brief intervals. The vision of the two of you at the carnival, faces stuffed with cotton candy, giggling as you boarded the Ferris Wheel for the first time on your own came back first. You remember going around with her three times until the sun went down and the houses began to look like stars in the sky. Lit up and far away.

Another memory flashed, her crying in your lap in the 8th grade. Jason Charnley rejected her when she asked him if they could go to the dance together. Innocently, you offered to go with her as you stroked her hair, the cries dying out as you cracked joke after joke. By the time she was supposed to go home, she had forgotten what she was even upset about. 

Then a memory of senior year when she showed up on your front step, a giant envelope addressed to her with a giant “Sagewood” on the front. She knew she was accepted from the moment she applied, but the confirmation was validation enough. What really surprised her was your admission, meaning you’d follow after her to college as you usually did.

Then a memory flashed from a week ago, an unknown number lit up your screen the night you met Astrid in the cafe. 

ellie: Hey, this is Ellie.

ellie: From Brain Brew.

you: wrong number

you: but what are you wearing, ellie?

ellie: Nvm.

you: stooooop come back

you: i was being annoying, i apologize

you: what are you doing rn?

ellie: Come find out. 

That’s how you found yourself pressed up against Ellie’s door, her knee wedged in between your legs, a small whimper falling from your lips that were wrapped up in Ellie’s. Ellie's lips were soft and full, her touch gentle, calloused hands gripping your clothed waist. You could feel her heart pounding in time with your own, her chest rising and falling with each breath.

Your hands, no longer under your own control, moved around her waist to pull her closer still, while her hands roamed over your back, exploring, caressing. Your breathing grew heavier as you felt her hands roam up your body

The kiss deepened as you explored each other’s mouths with your tongues. Her lips were insistent, demanding as if she couldn't get enough of you. You were overwhelmed by the taste of her, a mix of mint and coffee. She slipped her hands under your shirt, her hands traveling up your back, causing goosebumps to rise exclusively where she touched. Her hands found the clasp of your bra, undoing it, her mouth never leaving yours as you moaned into her mouth. Ellie’s hands, still under your shirt, moved to cup your tits in her hand, pushing you back against the door as she did so. 

She broke the kiss, her lips trailing down your jaw, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed and sloppy kisses on your skin. Her teeth nipped at the skin on your collarbone, sending shivers down your spine. Her hands began teasing your nipples with gentle squeezes and flicks. She was relishing in every sound you made, every way you squirmed underneath her touch. She could feel herself getting wet from the small sounds alone. Then you moaned out loud as Ellie's lips found their way to your neck, sucking and biting, marking you as hers, and she was gone completely.

Her hands moved lower, sliding down your sides, over the curve of your hips, until they reached the waistband of your pants. Before you knew it, her fingers slipped beneath the fabric, two fingers circling your clit as she worked you.

“Shit,” she whispered under her breath, “this is for me?” The sound of her fingers and your cunt made an obscene noise, her fingers now completely coated in you. Your hands fumbled with the buttons of Ellie's shirt, desperate to feel her skin against yours. You popped them off one by one, fingers faltering as she touched you, revealing her toned stomach, and you couldn't help but run your hands at the place right above her worn-out jeans, feeling the muscles twitch beneath your touch.

Ellie pulled back slightly, her eyes searching her face for any regret, any idea that you wanted to back out now. "You want this?" she whispered, her voice low and rough. You nodded, unable to form words as your body leaned into her.

----

That’s all you remembered that night, slipping out sometime before Ellie woke up. You assumed that since this was “strictly a hookup” she wouldn’t want to see you there in the morning. She did vaguely reference you sleeping over, but you didn’t want to overstay your welcome. 

So before the sun came up, you slipped from Ellie’s grip, slipping on the clothes you came in and doing the infamous walk of shame back to your dorm. This wasn’t a relationship, and the proactive version of yourself had to be reminded of that many times that week.

You began to think that if you maybe hadn’t gotten so wrapped up in Ellie the week after meeting with Astrid, you would have noticed something. Maybe even have been able to prevent her death. A part of you wanted to resent Ellie for that, but you knew at the end of the day you were trying to put the blame on anyone but yourself.

She reached out for help, but you denied her. 

The best friend you swore to protect, who swore to protect you was now dead, and you could have prevented it. Wallowing in it wasn’t helping much, but provided some emotion to feel other than numb. So back in your childhood home, your fingers lingered over Ellie’s contact, wondering if you should text her back. You didn’t have a plan to return back to school yet and you didn’t want to give her false hope.

Maybe she could fuck the grief out of you, or wrap her to-

you: as good as i can be

ellie: This sucks.

you: truer words have never been spoken

ellie: But hey, I need to talk to you. Do you know when you’ll be back on campus?

ellie: I’m not trying to like fuck you or anything cause that would be fucked up.

ellie: Ignore that last message. I’m just realizing now how weird that was. I'm sorry.

ellie: Anyways, I just need to talk to you about something, it’s serious. Don’t wanna text it to you.

you: i should be back soon, i don't know yet. 

ellie: Well, when you do come back, let me know.  

You stared at your phone, your fingers ghosting over Ellie’s message before deciding to reply with a thumbs up. Pathetic, but it was all you could muster as you finally sat up and ate the food your mom left for you. It was about time to return to your life, falling behind not being an option anymore.

You worked too hard to get into Sagewood in the first place to stop now, a year before you were set to graduate. Sagewood was on par with the Ivy League schools, bearing an acceptance rate of 9% and accepting students internationally. There were about a thousand on-campus clubs, sororities, and study groups. There were even rumored secret societies, but you were never one to believe in that sort of thing. People who graduated with a degree from Sagewood were set for life. There was no room to screw up three years of good grades okay grades. 

So that’s how you found yourself back on campus, tightly gripping the straps of your bag. As if snapped back into reality, the memories of that night flooded back. You just began to remember the note you threw away that threatened your life, as you made your way to your morning class, an unsettling feeling setting in your stomach. It almost felt as if you were being watched. 

As you sat in class, you shuffled in your seat as the kid a few rows in front of you turned to look at you. When he noticed you staring back he turned around quickly. The whole class you had your eyes trained on the back of his head, watching as he would occasionally look at you, notice you looking, and turn back around. You knew you were being paranoid when you first walked onto campus, but now you felt validated.

As the teacher dismissed the class, the kid who kept staring at you collected his things and attempted to leave the room quickly, but you wouldn’t let that happen. You rushed to meet him at the door and stood in front of him, a bitter look on your face. 

“You’ve got a staring problem,” you commented accusingly, hands folding across your chest.

“You’re just really,” he coughed, looking around as other people pushed past you to the exit, the professor included, “pretty. You’re pretty, that’s why I was staring.”

“I know I am,” you turned to shut the door behind the last person exiting the room, “but do you really think I’m that stupid? What gives?”

“I’m late for my clas-” he began to stumble out before you took another menacing step towards him. 

“You won’t make it there if you don’t tell me why the fuck you were staring at me,” you pointed a finger right in the center of his chest, making him gulp loudly. 

“It’s just,” he takes another step back, “you were friends with the dead girl.”

“The dead girl?” you spat back at him, your tone laced with venom, “Her name was Astrid, you dick.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He breathed out, “I’m just a true crime junkie, I’m intrigued about her case.”

“Her case?” you questioned him, taking a step back to make him feel more comfortable. To make him open up to you. 

“Just that they have no leads yet,” he scoffed, “which is weird if you ask me. No suspects yet she’s killed in a very public place?”

“That happens all the time,” you retorted, hands still crossed protectively across your chest.

“It’s not as common as you think,” he shrugged, “they haven’t questioned you yet?”

Now that he brought it up, the whole situation was weird. If they were trying hard to find out what happened to her, why weren’t you called in for questioning? It wasn’t like you had done it, but you did have a motive, and you had just come into contact with her again, shortly before her murder. If there was any person to question, it would be you, but yet here you were, untouched.

“No, they haven’t,” you mumbled back, your mind moving a million miles per minute. 

“See,” he smirked, “weird.”

“Wipe that stupid ass smile off your face,” you spat back, “she’s still dead, and just because you ‘like true crime’ doesn’t give you a right to talk about her. It’s not like you’re going to solve her murder.”

“I just might,” he stated simply.

“Yeah, right,” you scoffed, turning towards the door to leave now.

“Did you know she was part of a secret society?” he questioned, making you still for a moment.

You turned back around to face him, eyes squinted again, arms crossed firmly over your chest, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He let out a laugh, shaking his head, something sinister in the way he hung his head, “I do my research and I do it well.”

“You sound like a nutcase,” you spat again, trying to stop the anger from bubbling inside of you. It felt weird to talk about Astrid as if she was a mystery. In all the people in the world, you knew her the best. You knew each and every corner of her life, even when you weren’t speaking. But now, as you stood here, you weren’t sure you ever knew her at all. 

“They are called Oculus Noctis,” he shrugged again, standing up taller as if he had just won this fight, or whatever this was, “look them up, then come find me,” he walked closer to you now, making you want to cower away, but you didn’t. You planted your feet down, straightening your posture. Although he looked more confident now, you could tell he was still intimidated by you, “my name’s Corbin Nott. I run a podcast, look me up too.”

Smiling, he brushed past you leaving you standing alone in the room. You let out what felt like a deep breath you were holding for a while, your breath coming out shallow and shaky.  Your heart felt like it would beat out of your chest, and come out of your ears and nose as you bled out on the floor, but you just stayed unmoving taking deep breaths as you placed a hand over your chest to steady yourself. 

Your hands began to shake a little, trembling as you moved to sit down at one of the desks, a failed attempt at calming yourself. The breaths came quicker as it started to feel like you couldn’t breathe, like your heart was pumping blood into your lungs and you were drowning. Your vision blurred as you stared at the desk, which was now full of wet droplets. Were you crying? You lifted a shaky hand to wipe at your cheeks, and as you expected you felt your damp skin covered in tears. 

You were trying hard to collect yourself now, knowing that students from the next class would probably start flooding in and you wouldn’t be able to move. You would just sit at a front desk crying as whatever poor professor tried to teach. C’mon get it together, get it fucking together, you thought. What was it they said to do? 5 things you can see, 4 things you can touch, and the other three got lost on you. 

You looked around, and through teary eyes you could see a clock on the wall, ticking slower than usual. You could see the whiteboard in front of you, smugged with black dry-erase markers, and you could see the dark hardwood floors, clean and polished. You watched your hands and your tears on the desk and suddenly your breathing started to feel normal.

Thank god you did because by the time you were wiping your last tear from your eyes, the door to the classroom was swinging open and a student was walking in. You kept your head down, so they wouldn’t see your teary eyes and red nose, but that also stopped you from seeing them. So when the person called your name out, you had to look up, only to see…

“Ellie,” you mumbled, watching the smile on her face drop as her eyes scanned your face. Gripping her backpack straps she walked closer to you slowly, crouching down in front of the desk you were sitting at. Her green eyes darted from your eyes to your nose, to your lips, and to the desk, clearly wet.

“Hey,” she whispered, “are you okay?” She reluctantly reached a hand out to wipe at your face, unsure if you were okay with being touched or if you even liked to be comforted. She wiped a tear away from your cheek, her calloused thumb rubbing your cheek gently, “What happened?”

“I-I’m fine,” you stuttered out, closing your eyes at the skin-to-skin contact, “Still upset I guess,” you let out a shaky laugh, hoping to see a small smile on Ellie’s face as you opened your eye, but she just looked worried. Her brow wrinkled a bit, and it looked as if she was still searching for something in your eyes, but was coming up empty. She cleared her throat before looking away, retracting her hand from her face. 

“You’re not fine.” She grumbled back, standing up now, causing you to look up at her, “You shouldn’t be back here so soon.”

“What?” you joked, “Not excited to see me?”

She rolled her eyes playfully, a small blush tinted on her face as she nudged your shoulder lightly, “Not excited at all,” she commented sarcastically, making you crack a bigger smile, “c’mon let’s get out of here,” she motioned her head to the door, making you stand up shakily and stand in front of her. 

“Don’t you have class?” you asked, your own expression laced with worry. You watched as her face softened slightly at this, pursing her lips and looking you up and down. 

“I can skip it,” she shrugged, “plus, I wanted to talk to you.” 

You let out a small laugh, “God, you sound obsessed with me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she dismissed you, walking towards the door, pulling it open, and holding it for you, “C’mon, let’s go.”

Giving her a small smile you walked out with her, your hands placed firmly in your pockets. You stepped out onto the main grass of Sagewood, where people were sitting, laughing, as their lives moved on. The smell of the grass was strong, as you walked down the cobbled path, Ellie looking at you quickly before taking a deep breath. 

“So, I went by your room the day after your friend-” she started, 

“Astrid,” you practically whispered back.

‘Astrid,” she paused, “After she died,” she cleared her throat, “I’m so sorry by the way.”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to say that.”

“Sorry,” she cleared her throat, “Anyways, I went there the day after and you weren’t there, but there was this book on your desk.”

“What?” you stopped in your tracks looking at her, “There was no book on my desk when I got back.” 

“I know,” she sighed, looking around, “I took it,” she watched as your eyes widened and you took a step back.

“Why the fuck would you take something off my desk?” you questioned, anger written all over your face. Ellie shifted uncomfortably, chewing on her bottom lip as you questioned her.

“Because it was Astrid’s, and I thought,” her voice died out, and your wide eyes just pressed her on, your arms once again folding over your chest.  

“You thought what?” 

“I thought that it was evidence,” she breathed out, “I thought that if they found that in your room it would be pinned on you.”

“You think I killed her?” your voice was loud now, making people around you stop and stare. Ellie looked around uncomfortably, closing her eyes as she took another deep breath. 

“Of course not!” she whisper yelled back, “You were at mine the night she was murdered, but if they found that in your room, it would have been on you.”

“So, you stole it,’ you deadpanned, eyebrows raised and accusing, “Why do you even care if I go down for it? You barely know me.”

“Because believe it or not, you are one of my only friends,” she looked away, her arms crossing over her chest as if to protect herself, “Like ever. So forgive me if I didn’t want you to be framed for murder.”

Your expression softened, arms falling to your sides as you looked up at her and then back at the ground, “I appreciate that.” 

“You can have it back, obviously,” she mumbled, eyes trained on her own shoes as her arms uncrossed and her fingers began to play with each other, “I just… didn’t want you to get in trouble. It’s all gibberish anyways, just a bunch of words that don't make sense.”

That made your heart stop, as you blinked up at her. “What did you just say?” She looked up at you, shrugging as she rolled her eyes.

“The journal, it’s like just a bunch of random words, I tried to find out what language it was but I came up short,” she was still playing with her fingers, obviously nervous as she picked at her nails, “But, I understand if you don’t want to talk to me anymore. It was a weird thing to do.”

“I still want to be your friend, Ellie,” you sighed, “I just need to see this journal, like now,” you watched as a small smile flashed across her face and he shoulders seemed to lose all their tension.

“Yeah, we could head over to my dorm right now,” she began walking, turning her head back to make sure you were following her, “I’m sorry agai-”

“Ellie, if you apologize again I’ll jump you,” you teased, smiling up at her as you walked side by side.

“Doesn’t sound like much of a threat,” she teased back, voice low as she let out a small laugh.

-

As you walked into Ellie’s dorm, you instantly became nervous again, your guilt creeping up the back of your neck. The night Astrid was killed, you were in bed with Ellie, laughing as she traced circles into your inner thigh. She talked about how much she hated her professors, working and Brain Brew, and how weird everyone on campus was. Well, everyone except for you. 

That night you stayed up and watched 30 Rock on Hulu until Ellie fell asleep, Ellie’s laughter gradually fading into soft snores. Her head found a resting spot on your shoulder, her rhythmic breaths warming your neck. You slipped out quietly, walking back to your dorm with a shit-eating grin on your face, and fell asleep unassuming. 

Your fingers traced the outline of Ellie’s desk, as you eyed Astrid’s journal that was sat in the center of it. It was covered in green felt, her name embossed on the front of it in gold letters. You pulled out the chair in front of the desk, sitting at it to begin reading the book. You paused for a moment, wondering if you even wanted to open it. Flipping open the front page, there was the language you created in middle school on every page. Pages and pages, the book was filled. When Astrid said it would be up to you to solve her murder, she meant it literally. 

On the front page was printed “Fepi Quslo Vurte Dabru” which translates to “My Oculus Noctis Journey.”

“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath, finger brushing over the letters on the page, feeling the imprint the pen made on the paper. 

“What?” Ellie stepped forward, looking over your shoulder at the book, “You know what this says?”

You sighed deeply, eyes trained on the words, “Yeah,” you turned to look up at her, “I do.”

“How?” her tone was more curious than shocked, sitting on her bed as she watched you. 

“It’s a language we created in middle school,” you closed the book, stuffing it in your bag as you turned to stare at Ellie. You watched as she looked at you in amazement, eyes wide and mouth hung open. 

“You created a fucking language?” she asked, laughing a little, “Jesus, you Sagewood students are crazy.”

“Ellie, you also go here,” you laughed, leaning your elbow on the desk, “Plus, Astrid mostly created it. She was smart like that.”

Ellie looked at you again, a small smile playing on her face, “You’re smart too, you know.”

“Not as smart as she was,” your smile turned to a sad one as you looked at your knees, not wanting to cry again.

“Hey,” Ellie said, voice low as she tried to get your attention. When you looked up, she smiled at you, eyes soft, “You're really fucking smart, just remember that.”

You gave her a forced smile, looking back down at your feet, “Thank you,” your voice came out cracked, “I needed that.”

“What did the first page say?” 

“My Oculus Noctis Journey,” you replied, shrugging. 

“Oh shit,” she laughed, “she was involved with those freaks?”

You sat up straight at this, scanning her face, “You know about them?” 

“Sadly,” she replied nonchalantly, “I don't know much about them except that they exist. They tried to recruit me, but I don't think they know that I know that it was them.”

“What? What do you mean?” you asked eagerly, words coming out quickly. 

“They recruit people on campus but they make it seem like they are just regular clubs,” she recounted, “Like they had a ‘coding club’ and at the club fair they had this code that they asked people to encrypt, it was extremely hard too. I did it and they sent me this weird email, asking me to do more shit. I just kind of didn't respond but traced the email to their own web service.”

“I thought that the secret society stuff was just like rumors.”

“Nope,” she popped her lips on the ‘p’, “Real shit. I just don't know what they exist for or anything.”

“I think I may have to figure that out.”

[hunnylagoon]

The Killing Moon

PT1: Camp Spirit

Ellie Williams x Reader

Of all the paths you take in life, make sure a few of them are dirt.

Premise: You are a camp counsellor who comes back year after year to be at peace in the one place you love the most. Though there is something different in the air, could it be love or maybe an ancient evil you’ve mistakenly awakened?

Warnings: slight mentions of violence / mentions of monsters and cryptids / raunchy humour / spooky?

The Killing Moon Playlist

PART TWO: The Colour Wars

Week One of Summer Camp

Camp Honey Hills is what you could call 'off the radar'. It sat way up past the hills and forests of Oregon, relatively untouched by the urban nightmare of the city. It stayed peaceful and undisturbed as leaves shed from trees and snow covered every inch of ground, but the camp was alive for one season of the year. Even in the quietness of preparing for the campers to arrive you could still hear counsellors laughing with one another and that's how you could tell the camp was waking up from its ten-month slumber.

"Anyone in the White Tail Deer Cabin, over here!" I held my hand up and waved to the kids piling out of the buses, carrying duffle bags bigger than themselves. The first day of camp was always the most stressful, the only thing to get you through was the idea that it would be over soon and we could get to the fun part of summer.

I already had a handful of girls crowding around me, all of them were either ten or eleven; depending on how you look at it, I either got blessed or cursed that I was assigned to a cabin of older girls. While the younger ones were wild and untamable, the older ones tended to be snarky and standoffish, these girls we’re leaning toward wild.

"Hi," I look up from my clipboard to see a scrawny girl, she has long black hair in two French braids, a summer camp staple. "My thing says that Ellie is my counsellor and I don't know who that is."

"All good," I bend down to her height, "It's that pretty girl over there," I point at Ellie, she's talking to one of the girls in her cabin, and her dark eyebrows are furrowed at what I can only assume to be an absurd question. "You're in the Grizzly Cabin, looks like I'll be seeing a lot of you."

The girl doesn't answer me with words, from the way she's looking at me you'd think I just told her that I sat on her hamster. She gives me one last side glance before she struts off and lugs her duffle bag behind her. "That weird girl said I was in your cabin," I hear ever so faintly in the distance, Ellie bites back a laugh.

I shake off the not-so-subtle cruelty of a pre-teen and go back to yelling for all of the girls in my cabin. So far I had seven of the eight campers I was supposed to have, I was in the lead and if I collected all of the girls in my cabin first, that would be more points towards the camp cup. You should know that I take the camp cup very seriously, it really isn't anything more than a trophy that Tommy and Joel give to a cabin but I haven't lost it in the past five years that I've worked here. 

"Is your name Tamar?" I point at a stubby ginger girl, "You look like your name is Tamar," I was on the hunt for the eighth girl in my cabin so I could win the arrival day points. 

"Uh, no," She said, looking as muddled as scrambled eggs "My name is Marcy."

"Then get out of here, Marcy," I look past her and nod at a girl with skin the colour of ebony wood "Are you Tamar?" This girl looks around to double-check that I'm talking to her before she shakes her head no.

"Who's my counsellor then?" Marcy who stands at a maximum of what looks to be a mighty 4'3 is peering into my soul with her icy blue eyes and I almost shudder, all I could think is that someone needed to get this four-foot-nothing girl some contact lenses.

"Your counsellor and cabin should be on the slip of paper that administration gave you."

"I lost my paper."

"Um," I glance around at the other counsellors, collecting their campers. My eyes settle on Abby, she's wearing a Camp Honey Hills T-shirt. She looks like she's got everything more put together and organized than any other counsellor so I decided to dump this kid on her. "It's that blonde girl with the big muscles, you better hurry because she'll crush you if you aren't there in time."

Marcy looks at Abby and then back to me with wide eyes at my words before she scurries away. As I watch her roll up to Abby's group, I quickly realize that there is no way she is in that cabin. Abby got the oldest group, consisting of fourteen and fifteen-year-olds and I was sure that Marcy, with all of her missing teeth, was no older than nine. I avert my eyes to avoid any wrath.

I spot Jesse who is trying to wrangle up his boys who are already rough housing and throwing each other in the dirt. Somehow he always ends up with the returning campers or the savage ones who would surely put my head on a stick before taking a shower. 

"Is this the White Tail Deer Cabin?" A girl with pale skin and brown hair stares me down, she's tall for her age and lanky.

"Are you Tamar?"

"Yeah," She says it like she's annoyed.

"Perfect," I smile, turning to my group "Alright girls, that's everyone," I turn to look in Tommy's direction "I said that's everyone," I enunciate louder to be sure he can hear me, each of my campers gives one another a snide glance. 

Tommy presses his lips together in a thin line and answers me with a thumbs-up. He already knew I would be the first to get my group together, I always was. He and Joel are the camp directors, they were talking about something before I called their attention.

Marcy points at me and Abby looks in my direction, her eyebrows knit together. Great, now I was being snitched on my nine-year-old. Abby calls out my name but I'm already ushering my girls towards the cabins "Who wants to see the cabin?"

In just moments, I'm long gone and walking the trail to the girl's cabins. Breathing one last moment of peace, the earthy bitterness in the air, droplets of last night's rain slipping off leaves. It made me want to savour every moment in the forest I had before summer ended and I had to go back to stuffy dorms and lectures along with people as boring as the city itself. I've never been able to fathom why anyone would dream of the city, of the drug users and creepy men roaming the streets. Concrete everything and headaches from blue light, every day that I was away at college I dreamed of coming back here, I counted down the days I could turn my phone off and disappear from the world for a while.

The boys may have had a shorter walk to their bunkhouse but the girls definitely got the better view. It also didn't hurt that the circle of cabins was right beside the pasture so we woke up to watch horse grazing, unless you don't like horses, then you can just ignore them I guess.

"Okay, ladies," I open the door to our cabin, a little carving of a doe above the doorframe. "This is our cabin, go ahead and claim your bunks, I don't care who goes where, just don't fight about it and no one set up on my bed."

"How do we know which one is yours?" One of the girls, Leslie, asks. 

"Because it's the only one that's set up," I say, bluntly and I see the realization hit her like it was a math equation that finally clicked in her head "You guys can unpack and I'll go over the cabin constitution in a minute."

As my campers piled into the cabin, ravenously fighting over who got which bed, I saw Ellie walking up with her girls. Our cabins were right next to each other, we shared a little porch that Maria decorates with plants while Ellie and I neglect them until they're wilted and we try to save them so we don't get yelled at. Alternatively, dump the responsibility of nurturing plants on one of your campers, kids love to water stuff and feel important.

Ellie's campers begin to walk up the porch and into the cabin, one of her girls runs up to me "I wanna be in your cabin again," Lana pouts, I had her last year and I can't say that I have a least favourite camper but if I could, it would definitely be Lana. "Ellen is so mean."

"Well, maybe she would be nicer if you said her name right." I look up to see Ellie who mouths a 'Thank you'  "Call her Ellie and maybe you two can be nice to each other."

Lana looks between the two of us before wordlessly walking into the cabin in trail of the other girls. "It's shaping up to be an interesting summer."

"We've survived worse," I cross my arms "Do you remember Tucker? That kid Jesse had who managed to tie a piece of dental floss around a wasp and carry it around with him all day like a balloon."

"He was a little weird but he was chill," Ellie jokes, like every other counsellor, she's wearing the Honey Hills T-Shirt and Demin shorts, her auburn hair pulled back into a half up half down style "How about that girl in Dina's cabin who wrote Reid letters pretending to be Priya?"

I laugh "I can't believe it went on so long."

"I can, Reid's a fucking idiot." She says "He pronounces chutney like chut-uh-ney."

"Oh my god, I hate that so much," I was obviously dragging on this conversation, hunting for reasons to talk to her "And the way he says Ibiza and Cuba and like everything." 

"Do you remember when he joined the women supporting women club in high school?"

"Please don't remind me, that was awful," I chuckle "The worst part is that he ran that shit like the navy."

"Are you coming inside?" Chloe pokes her head out the door.

"I guess so," I answer "Uh, I'll see you at the campfire," I tell Ellie before stepping into my cabin and seeing pure chaos. The four bunkbeds that were pristinely set up just hours ago were now clad in each girl's personal bedding, ranging from Chloe's neat colour scheme of light blue and white to Kim's mismatched quilts, fuzzy pillows, and bright orange sleeping bag. They were still working on getting everything set up, specifically getting the fitted sheets onto the twin-sized waterproof mattress. Some of the girls were even beginning to tape up photos of their friends and family from back home. "Wow, looks great girls."

"Can we go to dinner yet?" Leslie asked, her twin braids hanging over her pink hoodie.

"No, it is three o'clock but we will go over the cabin constitution."  A couple of the girls let out groans of disapproval "First you always listen to me, do as I say not as I do. Respect others and their belongings, please don't hurt anyone or yourself. Maintain personal hygiene and do not go anywhere without telling someone where. Also, we have shower schedules, showers are absolutely mandatory, and no one will talk their way out of it. On Friday's we have tuck shop, and everyone gets a twenty dollar allowance for that, no you do not actually touch the money it's part of the camp package, I take your orders and come back with candy. We have campfires every night, breakfast, lunch, and dinner are mandatory to attend even if you don't eat which I strongly encourage you do."

"Do we have to go if we're sick?" Tamar asked me.

"No."

"But you just said it was mandatory."

"It's mandatory if you aren't sick."

"But you said-

"Stop," I clasp my hands together "I know I'm older than you guys but I promise you can tell me and ask me anything." I smile, looking around "Any other questions?"

"Can we swear?" Valentina asks, she's kicking her feet off her bed on the top bunk. Her skin is the colour of copper and she has a little dusting of freckles over her button nose.

"I don't really care just don't do it around other adults and don't tell them that I told you that."

"What's the wifi?" Morgan was typing something on her phone which was by far more expensive than the model I owned. Dina had Morgan in previous years and I wasn't too thrilled to be in charge of the (as she claimed) disrespectful blonde monster sent from hell to ruin her life.

"We don't have wifi, we hardly have service," I tell her "And you aren't even supposed to have your phone here but you can't do anything on it anyways so it doesn't matter."

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Leah chimes in, she's sitting on the ground with Oliver and slowly but surely braiding her friend's hair.

"Not at the moment, no."

"So are you a lesbian?" Olive follows up for her friend.

"Um," I press my lips together, my mind failing me, "I think we're good on questions, who wants a camp tour?" No one says or does anything, they just kind of look around awkwardly "That's too bad, you're getting one."

Everyone gathered around the crackling fire pit on splintered wooden benches. The warm glow of the campfire flickered in the midst of a cool summer night, casting dancing shadows on the faces of worn-out campers who were ready for bed. 

Tommy had given his speech to sike up the kids for the rest of the summer, he made sleeping in the woods sound like a lot of fun. "We're giving you tonight to settle in but I promise that starting tomorrow we are hitting the ground running, activities from morning until dark, this will be a summer to remember," He smiles brightly "I don't wanna babble too long so I'm gonna give the attention to Miles who is going to kick off our campfire by playing the guitar for us."

Miles sat directly across from me in the first row of benches so I could only see him through the orange flames of the fire. "This is an original song I wrote, so far it's untitled but I'm open to ideas," He made himself comfortable with the guitar, readjusting it to sit in his lap properly. 

"What do you wanna bet it's about?" Ellie whispers into my ear from beside me. Since the day cooled into the night, she's thrown on a gray hoodie to keep herself warm. You would be an idiot to ignore how pretty she looks illuminated by nothing more than stray stars in the sky and a campfire.

"I'll put five bucks on sex,"

"Sex?" She raises her eyebrows "I don't think he's stupid enough to sing a song about sex in front of kids, I'm gonna say it's about being a tortured artist."

"It could easily be both," I look down and see Ellie's muddied converse "We break even if he does both." The fire roared before us like our own miniature hell.

Miles clears his throat and lets his curly blonde locks fall over his forehead. Beginning to strum, he made that weird face he makes every time he plays guitar, where he scrunched his eyebrows together "Baby, maybe, I just wanna do you, do you, do you wanna do me? do me underneath the moonlight," He's too lost in his song to see the horror on every counsellor's face "Baby, baby, maybe I will steal you, steal you, just so I can feel you, feel you, maybe that would heal you."

I cover my mouth with my hand to stop me from cackling. The older kids were on the verge of laughing themselves while the younger kids seemed utterly confused. "Holy shit," I mutter so quietly that my words got blown away with the wind.

Ellie didn't try to stop her laughter, just hide it, she buried her head into the crook of my neck so no one could see how red her face was. She was far better off than Dina who was laughing so hard that she was clutching her stomach and nearly falling over, Miles seemed to be oblivious to all of this. In Dina’s defence, it was difficult not to laugh at a song so wildly inappropriate and bad in general.

Miles had far from the best voice, he just sounded like every other white guy who sang Wonderwall at a girl, not to her but at her "Sticky thighs are you wild now or just a memory? I heard your broken cries and looked into your eyes under the moonlight, so do you wanna do me, do me, so I can heal you, heal you, from the inside-

He stops abruptly when Joel takes the guitar away from him "How about Sawyer tells us the camp legend instead."

Those who knew who Sawyer was looked towards him, Miles was trying helplessly to get his guitar back from Joel who was holding it just slightly out of reach. "It's been a while since I've told this so forgive me if-

"No one cares, just tell it," Ashlynn said. She was one of the counsellors who clearly didn't want to be there, which meant all of the campers thought her to be the coolest; in all fairness, she was cool. Ashlynn had bleach blonde shaggy hair, so light that it almost looked white. Her eyeliner was always a little smudged and she was only there to keep the kids alive, she tended to be the first to opt out of group activities and go to bed early.

"Okay well, it starts way back in the sixteen-hundreds, on these very grounds there was a small village," Sawyer put on his best storytelling voice which was just him lowering his voice an octave. "They lived in peace for decades, and throughout all of those decades there was a woman named Abigail who never seemed to age, while all of her friends and family developed wrinkles, their hair turned gray, and their bodies sagged, Abigail still looked nineteen even at her alleged age of sixty-seven." 

The new campers seemed enraptured but returning kids and counsellors seemed bored out of their minds, I even spotted one boy who's been attending this camp longer than I have, mouthing the words of Sawyers tale.

"They accused her of witchcraft and she was shortly exiled far up the hill into what we now call the Honey House. They left her with nothing more than a hunting knife, a canteen of water, the clothes on her back, and a small portion of seeds. The villages burned down her home in town along with everything inside it. If you think that is the end-

"Think again!" Dina cut in, getting up from her spot and squeezing herself beside Sawyer. "With Abigail gone the villagers thought they would be safe but just days after Abigail was exiled, anomalies began to appear-

Sawyer chimed back in "At first they were harmless, pixies, gnomes, jackalopes, nyiads by the rivers and dryads in the trees. The creatures appearing slowly began to appear more and more dangerous and at last, the snatchers arrived-

"Like a muscular and tall emaciated human. The most terrifying creatures to ever be seen, they roamed just outside of the village and lured children in, they slurped the flesh right off of the children's bodies like prey and wore the clothes of their last victim. They have no lips just a bloody gash and when they don't eat, the gash begins to reseal, leaving nothing on their gray faces but large and pale sunken eyes the size of my fist!" Dina clenched her hand into a fist and held it up for everyone to see.

"Their fingers are long and rotted, long curls of claws on each of their ten spindly fingers. The males are devoid of all hair and the females hardly have hair at all, just small plugs of greasy and matted strands. Their teeth are sharper than fangs and are rotten black and yellow, a foul odour escaping each time they open their disgusting gashes of a mouth. Though the snatchers were the most feared among villagers, they were also being terrorized by other creatures, such as pine devils who slithered from the forests at night and attacked families. There was ghouls who would take on the form of the last corpse they devoured and of course, the wampus which was half-man and half-cat, would stalk villagers.”

"Like a furry?" One of the boys from Jesse's cabin peeped.

"No," Sawyer exasperated "Like a scary and intimidating cat-man."

"So does it look more like the Cat in the Hat or like Cats the Musical?"

"It doesn't look like either, it's a terrifying man that is covered in fur and looks like a cat but is also a man."

"So Cats the Musical?"

Dina ignored the comment and continued with the story "After a year the village population had been cut in half and everyone thought it to be the witch, they figured that Abigail had cursed them for exiling her so they lit up their torches at sunset and marched up the hill to the Honey House. Abigail pleaded with them and explained that she hadn't cursed them but during her residency in the village she had warded off each evil spirit and creature with her witchcraft but she no longer could protect the village after they burned her home down and all her supplies inside of it."

After muttering to Jesse to get his cabin in order, Sawyer picked up when Dina left off "The villagers begged for her forgiveness and apologised for their cruel acts in the hope that Abigail would rid them of the monsters, Abigail said she would but in return they grant her return to the village, so the townfolk agree-

"With all her supplies to ward off the creatures gone, Abigail resorts to a blood ritual. She tells the townfolk that they must complete the ritual before sundown. She creates five pentagrams made of sticks and twine. Abigail races around the village to place the pentagrams and avoid the creatures while she does so, the villagers ward the monsters away from her with their torches. At each pentagram, Abigail slices her palm open and squeezes her fist to drip blood onto each one, then she ignites the pentagram with a torch and utters an incantation. She slashes her thighs and calves to get enough blood and in a last-ditch effort, she cuts her wrists open to finalize the ritual," Only the younger kids had been paying any attention to the story, they seemed downright terrified, clinging to one another but trying to play it cool.

"I fail to see how this is any less inappropriate than Miles's song," Cat mutters with one girl huddled into her, her arm slung over the little girl and rubbing her back to soothe her.

"Once she had completed the ritual, Abigail said that no creatures should return to the village. She is bleeding out in the middle of the town square but the town doctor only watches her, and refuses to help so she begs the appointed mayor to bury her beside her mother, he answers by saying 'The graveyard is sacred and we will not let it be tainted by filthy witch blood' in her final breath she plunged for the mayor and drags her bloody palms down his face, cursing him. Once she is no longer breathing her body begins to rapidly age into the appearance of the sixty-eight-year-old woman she was supposed to be. The townsfolk cut Abigail's body into five parts, two legs, two arms, and the torso with the head still attached and buried her on the border of the village."

Everyone sat in silence "Is that the end?" someone asked, though they were in the back row of benches and I couldn't see who it was.

"Yup," I answer "Abigail gets renamed as 'the girl that time forgot' in folklore and she never gets revenge on the townsfolk for betraying her after she laid down her life for them." I had never liked the legend. Young boys thought it was cool and gory and fifteen-year-old girls thought it was poetic and tragic but I hated it to death. Other camps have fun light-hearted legends about playful forest spirits or secret villages of fairies deep in the woods but we got an edgy story about a woman who just wanted to be loved.

"I wish she let the snatchers eat them all," Ellie said the same thing that she says every year, she wasn't wrong, that's how I wished it ended too. 

"Just wait until one eats you," I joke.

"Nah, I'd kick it's ass."

"I'm sure you would but right now you owe be five bucks.”

"No, we didn't pick this legend, it's true," I heard Jesse's voice cutting through the conversations of the crowd.

"Bullshit," Mordecai said, he was one of those kids who thought it was cool and edgy to be an asshole and act older than he was. He despised summer camp but every summer his parents forced him back much to our dismay.

"It's not," Bowie jumped in "The snatchers come back to visit us sometimes." 

"Yeah? I thought Abigail banished them with blood magic."

"The spell is growing weaker with time, it's slowly wearing out and there hasn't been a witch to revive it," Jesse was a good storyteller, he should've been the one to deliver the camp legend. He found a way to enrapture people with his words.

That's when I decided to call it a night for my girls, the longer you stayed at the campfire, the more outlandish stories the guys would tell and I learned my lesson last year that it is very easy to give ten-year-olds nightmares. "Whitetail deer, we're heading out," I stand up.

A few of the girls had groans and complaints while others seemed happy to leave. Ellie looked up at me from where I stood and did the same "Grizzlies, we're leaving too,"

"You're just saying that because you wanna hit it, Williams," Dean said between obviously fake coughs into his fist, causing Ashlynn to bite back a smile and Miles to playfully punch him on the arm. 

"Dean," Tommy gave him a stern look and said nothing else, Dean took the hint and ceased his laughter.

"Headcount," I say looking at the girls in front of me "Chloe, Leslie, Kim, Leah, Tamar, Morgan, Valentina, and Olive." Each of them stands in a close-huddled bundle "Alright, don't go off trail."

The walk back from the campfire was gorgeous during the day and borderline mortifying at night. Since the foliage was so thick you could hardly see the sky if you looked up and at night the little piece of clearing that was the trail was pitch black, we were guided by nothing more than mine and Ellie's flashlights.

The two of us had been trailing behind the girls in silence to keep an eye on everyone until Ellie felt the urge to speak up "Uh, by the way, that thing that Dean said about-

"I don't care."

"You don't?"

"Yeah he's a dick and his cabin looks like a wooden prison cell." 

"It does," She furrows her eyebrows in thought "It’s like he's conditioning his campers for war."

I didn't notice when I did this, it must've been a subconscious thing but I mindlessly reached for Ellie's hand to hold. I used my free hand to keep the flashlight focused on the trail and campers ahead of us. "Sawyer has to walk back to the bunkhouses across the camp with those little monsters."

"Payback for all of the pranks he's pulled with Bowie," Ellie mutters. Sawyer took pride in initiating the prank wars every single summer the same way I strove to win the camp cup. His pranks weren't also lighthearted and fun, he and Bowie organized this prank where Sawyer put a bag over Tyson's head and dragged him to the administration office in the middle of the night and then pretended to shoot Bowie dead in front of him. Tyson quit the next morning and Sawyer got a hefty write-up.

"So are you still talking to Cat?" I ask.

"Nah, that was never gonna work out."

"Because she's too hot for you?” I joke.

"What? No," She whipped her head to look at me "Why? You wanna get with her or something, you have my blessing."

"I'm good, I'm a little preoccupied at the moment."

"Who with?" Her voice dripped with accusation. Ellie's hand clenching just the slightest bit tighter on mine.

"Work? You should know that I don't date at camp, to think that I thought you knew me," I tease her.

"What about that summer with Chandler?"

"That doesn't count," My smile drops and I fight the urge to shiver at the memories. Before I was a counsellor at Honey Hills, I was a camper and I happened to have my first kiss at age thirteen with a boy named Chandler, our braces got stuck together.

"Everyone saw, so it counts," I can't quite make out Ellie's face in the dark but I can hear the smile in her voice "Remember how Joel had to pull out the pliers."

"You need to stop before I sacrifice you to the Honey Hills Snatchers," I look ahead on the trail and I could've sworn my heart stopped "Stop!" I yell and all of the girls look back at me, I drop Ellie's hand "Where is Olive?"

All of the campers look at each other for answers, and then Leah opens her mouth "She saw a rock that was shaped like a heart and when off trail to get it."

"Well I'm not seeing a heart-shaped rock or Olive but it's super safe in these woods so no need to panic." 

"No one's panicking," One of the girls in Ellie's cabin says, she was the same one who called me weird during arrival.

I run one hand down my face in exasperation, using the other to keep the flashlight trained on the girls "Everyone, stay here with Ellie, I'm going to be right back," I look at Leah "How far back did she go off trail?"

She shrugs "How am I supposed to know? I don't have a tape measure."

"Sweet," I answer before marching straight into the pitch-black woods. It was almost scarier to be in the dark with a flashlight instead of no light source, it felt like I had been in a video game or horror movie and I was about to get my throat slashed by a maniac in a mask. 

Every rustle of leaves or snap of twigs made me feel uneasy. I knew the woods were safe like I had told the girls but that didn't stop irrational fear from bringing up stories of cryptids and cuts from murder podcasts. If you ever played that shitty Slenderman game, you'd know exactly what I'm looking at; not Slenderman himself, just an eery forest.

I called out for Olive, my imagination running wild with thoughts of unseen dangers lurking in the shadows. The forest seemed to come alive around me, its inhabitants whispering secrets that only the night could hear.

"Olive?" My voice echoes into the night, I did what I could to ignore whatever fear I was feeling. I had walked through these woods a million times, I knew every pathway better than I knew the city. This forest was like home to me, it didn't feel right to be so on edge.

I couldn't help but jump when something loud snapped beneath my sneaker, instinctively I brought my flashlight down to look at it, moving my foot out of the way. It had been a pentagram made out of sticks, wow really funny, it might've scared me if Ashlynn and Bowie hadn't made dozens of them and laid them around camp last summer to scare the shit out of kids. It had broken in half beneath my weight.

There was a possibility that I was going crazy in the five minutes I was alone in the woods because I thought I heard a rustle but the beam of my flashlight revealed nothing but the dense thicket of trees and the inky blackness beyond.

Something charged behind me, wrapping its skinny arms around my torse and I couldn't help but flinch. "Olive," I turned my head and brought the flashlight to shine down on her "Don't run off in the dark ever again, you scared the shit out of me."

"I'm really sorry, I won't do it again," She said. I tried to pry her off me but she was hanging on like a Koala, eventually, I got her to settle for just holding my hand. "It was stupid."

"Don't beat yourself up too much, you're ginger and that's punishment enough," I was hastily yanking her along so we could get back on the trail and shortly back into the comfort of the cabin "Did you get your rock at least?"

"Yeah," She held her palm out, the rock was an oval with the littlest indent in the middle, but I let her act like it was shaped like a heart. 

"How'd you get so far out?"

"I grabbed the rock and then I saw a cat and I followed it."

Cat? "You must've seen Buckley, he's friendly," I tell her. Buckley was the resident dog at camp, he was probably older than me and wandered around before settling at Tommy and Maria's cabin for the night.

A moment after I dragged the little girl along we broke past the tree line and into the clearing of the trail. I looked around and spotted Ellie and the girls a good 40 yards or so behind. Clutching Olive's tiny hand in mine I walked towards them, flicking my flashlight on and off to catch their attention.

"Finally wrangled her," I let out an almost nervous laugh.

"You said not to go off trail," Tamar wrinkled her nose.

"Yes, Tamar, I know."

I don't know how late into the night it was when I was awoken by every girl in my cabin squabbling with one another. I got up and turned on the flashlight that I kept on my dingy bedside table "What's going on girls?"

"The snatcher is coming to get us!" Leslie cried, and I mean cried. Her face was red and puffy, her eyes were so glassy that they reflected any and all light, hot tears streaming down her round face.

That's when my annoyance turned to concern. Oh god, I was going to kick Sawyer and Dina's asses tomorrow morning and Joel for even suggesting the camp legend even though it made my campers too afraid to sleep year after year. "No, snatchers aren't real, they were made up in the sixteen hundreds to keep kids away from the forest."

"We heard it!" Morgan chimed in.

"Guys it's just the placebo effect, you've convinced yourself that it's real-

I froze when I heard a long scratch down the door and a wet guttural growl. It was low and deep, shaking me to my very core. Whoever was on the other side began to scratch harshly on the door, jiggling the locked door handle. When the handle didn't budge it began to slam itself on the door, each thump louder than the last. It was still groaning and grumbling in a harsh, awful voice.

The girls screamed, Olive and Leah, were hugging each other tightly, clenching their eyes shut. Valentina had a bottom bunk and slipped beneath the bed, covering her eyes with her hands. Leslie (like I had mentioned) was a blubbering mess, crying and hyperventilating too hard to get any words out. It looked like Morgan was trying to call someone on her phone and Tamar had her knees tucked to her chest, hugging herself. Both Kim and Chloe threw their blankets over top of them, pretending to disappear.

The voice sounded again except this time I realized it wasn't just a growl, it was a word "Girrrrllllls." Then it began to scratch the door all over again. When I tell you this voice was the most unsettling thing I've ever heard, I mean it. It was wet and phlegmy whilst being course and grumbly. From the very beginning, I had known it was a prank.

I marched towards the door flicking on the light in the cabin on and dropping my flashlight, before hammering my fists on the door "Fuck off!" I kicked the door, the sound stopped for just a moment before it slammed itself against the door.

Each thud against the sturdy wooden door reverberated through the night like a thunderclap. Whoever was sent to scare us was sure doing a good job. Their breathing was low and heavy almost as loud as the banging of the door itself. "Don't open the door," Leslie heaved out between sobs.

The girls huddled together in terror, their breaths hitching in fear as they strained to discern the source of the horrifying sounds "Girrllllllssss," It grumbled again "GIRRRLLSSSSCOMMOUT," I could see the door moving with the force of whoever was deeply committed to this role. The growling slowly morphed into a screech or maybe it was something more like a hiss.

I was almost at my breaking point, the first day of camp and I already had to deal with these bullshit pranks. I decided to slam my body against the door, matching whoever was on the other side "Go back to your cabin, you piece of shit!" I kept banging my fist and slamming my palms against the door until I heard them scuttle away. 

Reaching for a baseball out of Valentina's open duffle bag, I swung the door open and saw the slender figure of what I assumed to be a teenage boy running to the pasture "Tell Sawyer to eat shit!" I yelled before throwing the ball at the figure, it hit them but it didn't do much, they just stumbled for a split second before disappearing into darkness. 

"What the fuck is that noise?" Dina shouted from her cabin, I could tell I had woken her up from a nice sleep from the way her puffy eyes were squinting in my direction. A few girls poked their heads outside from the doorframe behind Dina.

"What happened?" Now Priya was walking towards my porch. Her long black hair was braided perfectly and she had her silk sleepmask pulled onto her forehead. She still looked put together in a hoodie and bunny pyjama pants.

"Can you guys shut the fuck up?" Ellie opened her door and looked me up and down.

"Be quiet!" Abby shouted from an open window in her cabin. By this point, I was sure everyone in the girl's bunk houses was wide awake and I would be getting a stern talking to by either, Tommy, Joel, or Maria, honestly, I didn't know which was worse. 

Confusion quickly grew on Ellie's face, she lowered her voice "What's going on?"

All eyes were on me for answers but I didn't have any. Despite convincing myself it was a prank, that didn't stop my hands from shaking. "It was one of the boys playing a prank, don't worry about it, he's long gone by now."

"Fucking Sawyer," Dina murmured walking back into her cabin and slamming the door behind her. 

"Are you girls okay in there?" Priya asked, looking at the mortified girls in my cabin, concern etched across her bronze face. "It was a dumb joke, you're all okay now." 

Priya had invited herself into my cabin to offer her solace to the probably traumatized little girls, while she was doing so, I pressed myself flat against the front of the cabin, between mine and Ellie's doors, trying to process how I was going to find a way to make these girls unafraid.

"They do that prank every year and it's almost crazy how it's literally never been funny," I tell Ellie while I stare straight ahead at the pasture they faded away into.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Ellie stands next to me, leaning against the wall "We'll get them back tenfold."

"Those girls are all gonna wanna call their parents and I'm so fucked," I drag my hands down my face. I didn't want to see the look on Joel's face when I tell him about this. There's gonna be sixteen parents who will spam call the camp and verbally harass me over the phone, this wasn't my first rodeo. Sure the prank was shitty but I guarantee no one is leaving this summer with newfound trauma to tell their therapist in a decade. 

"Relax, he's just gonna chew out the boys for pulling this shit again."

I looked at her for a moment, the silence hung between us like birds on a wire before I lunged in for a hug. She was a little taken aback but didn't seem to mind "I just need a hug, don't make it weird."

"Okay, wasn't planning on it," She teased. I took a deep breath in and caught the scent of firewood, petrichor, and axe body spray, an Ellie classic.

“I'm really glad I have you as a friend," I mutter into her shoulder, so quietly that I wasn't even sure she heard me. I let us stay like that for longer than I probably should've before breaking away "Okay, I gotta be a grown-up and deal with this instead of letting Priya do recon."

She nodded pressing her lips together in the same awkward way the socially inept guys from high school did "See you for breakfast?"

"For sure," I smile and walk back into my cabin to see Priya sitting next to Chloe with one soothing hand rubbing her back. "Thanks, Priya, I'll take it from here, you outta get back to your girls."

Priya had this maternal way about her, I wasn't sure what it was but she sure had the ability to nurture. She started at camp last year and I was happy to see her return. She gave her farewells to all of the girls who had only met her minutes ago and were already attached.

"Can I be in her cabin?" Kim asked, she had finally calmed down.

"No, you're in my cabin where we have fun like this every night!" I forced a smile on my face trying to get the girls back into a good mood.

"This isn't fun at all," Tamar, said, bluntly may I add.

"Yeah, this sucks," Morgan added on.

"Guys, listen," I began "I'm super sorry this happened, I need all of you to know that it's just a really bad prank, it happens every year to different cabins. Boy being boys- sorry I shouldn't say that because you guys are young and I know their gender shouldn't excuse their bad behaviour but what I'm trying to say is guys are assholes."

"Yeah, they're assholes!" Olive repeated.

"Maybe don't shout that," I pointed at her "But they are and if you want I will storm down to their cabins right now and yell at them until they cry."

The cabin began to erupt in shouts of no, little girls with wide eyes, frantically shaking their heads. "Please don't leave us alone," Leah pleaded. 

"Okay, I won't, I'll yell at them in the morning. Do you guys want me to leave the lights on?" Everyone answered with a 'yes' to my question.

"Where are you going?" Valentina asked me, peeking out from beneath her thick layers of blankets.

"To my bed?”

"That's too far away from us."

I let out a deep breath "Alright, I'll just bring my sleeping bag onto the floor and I will sleep in the middle, okay?"  Nothing better than sleeping on the hardwood floor in the middle of four bunkbeds and eight ten-year-old girls.

Surrounded by the shallow breathing of girls far too startled to sleep, I decided that tomorrow I would wake up dressed in adventure, straddling a star. Every day that follows I will guide these girls to the moon and back.

A/N: Hi y’all, I’ve been gone a hot minute because of medical issues and whenever I have time to write, I’m too tired to. Anyways, we’re back and better. I know I should probably finish my other series but I’ve had this one drafted for a while and since I’m super sick and basically confined to my house for the next week I’m hoping to get this series done. Thanks for reading!

@readbydayana

[dev1lm4n]

coward

pairings: jackson-era!joel miller x f!reader

summary: in which joel wanted to stake claim over you, but he's too much of a coward to do so. aka jealous emotionally pent-up joel

word count: 3.5k

warnings: suggestive, not explicit just mentions of sexual relationships

notes: this was ultimately cliché as shit but i NEED to write it

Clank. Clank.

Sunset has fallen upon the town just mere minutes ago. Gleeful chirping of the local birds were quickly replaced by a chorus of cicadas, loud clattering of metal cutleries, and scratchy scrapes against plates. There was a foreign atmosphere settling between tonight’s dinner participants and to be honest, it’s much weirder than you anticipated.

It’s foreboding; alike to those family dinners you’d attend to exchange bland pleasantries with cousins and nephews. The kind where you’d have to swerve from uncomfortable questions probing into your personal life, whether it’s your marital status or your paycheck. Except there wasn’t that much of a crowd tonight. Just you, your ‘date’, and Joel Miller.

Joel Miller was someone you couldn’t label properly.

You weren’t exaggerating in the slightest bit when it comes to your complex relationship with him, if you could even call what you had with him a relationship to begin with.

It’s just too messy and embarrassing. It’s like trying to pick apart a tangled up ball of yarn, hoping you’d figure out when things began and when it ended.

Has it even ended? The particular question had you mindlessly stabbing the roasted chicken you managed to cook up. It’s a little overcooked and mildly underseasoned, but it’s better than the alternative. Joel’s staple, which was heated up cans of Chef Boyardee’s Beefaroni, had always been reserved for those who’d acquired his unique tastes. You and Ellie were his number one frequenter when it comes to it.

Joel looked displeased by the pleasantries. His nose crinkled briefly, but he played along regardless. “I go on patrols most of the time, but I could fix things too here and there.”

“So.. Joel, right? What do you do ‘round Jackson?”

Jack managed to break up the everlasting silence with his low-register voice. You assumed that despite the initial awkwardness, he had at least enjoyed the food, considering the heaping glob of mashed potatoes he’s adding onto his plate.

“Oh. That’s nice. I’ve never gone on a patrol before,” Jack shared briefly, only to beam a shy smile towards you. He’s a cute boy you won’t lie. Maybe that’s why you scouted him off  the bar last week. “I take care of the horses with her.”

“Jack’s also from Texas, you know. Thought you two would get along,” you opined.

You watched the cocky raise of eyebrows Joel did and the half-smile following after. He’s silently judging the excuse of a man you’ve brought home tonight, that or he’s just not in the mood for a late night chat after such a troublesome day.

Joel had always been an incredibly difficult man to read. You still think you could read a horse better than him. You’ve gotten better at it throughout the years you’ve spent alongside him, especially after the trip around America for Ellie’s sake, but it’s still a hit or miss most times. It almost felt like he kept changing the numbers to the safe. Just when you thought you’ve cracked the code, he’ll have you come right back to square one.

Joel’s mouth twitched at your silly little assumption, his face contorted as if asking you if you’re for real. You shrugged, amused in a sense. It’d be good for him to start making actual friends, right? Right now his circle was a limited bunch with you being the only non-family acquaintance. His social skills were something you and Tommy are both working on these days. Plus, Jack’s easy on the eyes, so it’s two birds in one stone. 

“I see you still have a thing for Texas boys, hm?”

Joel teased you, this time not even bothering to flash you one of his degrading glares. He pretended like he’s really into the colorful medley of roasted root vegetables you’ve roasted, when you know for a fact he hated any kind of greens. He’d only pretend to like it when Ellie’s around, preaching around about its importance. You realized that you’re getting sidetracked from the real offense he’s just given. A jab of jealousy you’d say.

What kind of game is he playing? Was it another one of his ‘push guys away from you because all men are shit and you’d get hurt’ game? Jack was such a sweetheart, he didn’t even catch on to Joel’s implications, instead he settled on laughing alongside your awkward chuckles.

“Friends?”

“How long have you two been friends?”

Jack’s eyes sparked with curiosity, looking like he’s genuinely in awe of the fond illusion you two must’ve convinced him with.

Joel grinned, a corner of his full mouth lifted at the thought. He almost looked pleased at the premise.

“Two years,” you chimed in for a quick save.

“Man, I thought you two were together,” Jack confessed, salad dressing smeared lightly on his top lip. “Can’t say I ain’t happy when she came sizing me up for a date.”

Your gaze cruised back towards Jack, fluttering a sweet smile his way in case he finally caught up to Joel’s inappropriateness. All you saw was just an innocent look of acknowledgement. His cheeks brightened and swept by a soft wave of pink when he noticed you looking his way, appearing to be thrilled that you spared him a chunk of your attention.

Such a sweetheart. It wouldn’t be so bad if you actually got serious with him; move into a small cottage house, raise chickens and sheeps. Then you could finally bask in stability and mutual understanding. The two things you’re currently lacking.

A silent beat passed at his words. 

You humored him with an obscure chuckle, but it was painfully obvious how the atmosphere dimmed and crumpled ever so slightly around the edges. It’s not the first time the two of you were mistaken as a couple by other villagers, even Tommy and his wife were dead set convinced the first time you sauntered in with him. The months spent on the road with Ellie and him were life changing to say the least and you’d like to think the two of you were bonded by such traumatic events. He needed a purpose, you needed refuge. It’s always been like that from the start. 

There wasn’t even a tinge of romance to humor. Once in the past, you made the mistake of giving in to your ‘delusions’. You wondered whether the silent brief touches he made whenever he walked beside you meant something more. You wondered whether the way he reacted exaggeratedly when you prick your fingers on a rotten door frame meant that he cared. You wondered whether the confessions he made while you were curled up, riding out a fever from a stab wound meant that he wanted you. Those pathetic flourishing feelings were stomped by the heavy soles of his boots the one time you asked.

You could still remember vividly the terrible things he said and the way you sobbed your heart out at that. Thinking back, you’d understand why he said what he said. It was wrong of you to humor such thoughts.

Jack hummed fondly into his handkerchief, neatly cleaning up his fresh shaven complexion that always seemed to make him look a few years younger than what he truly is. He’s more of your age, something you took into account when he came up in your radar. That must mean he’s more suitable for you, right? Unlike Joel who’s reeling into his late fifties; who’s probably too old for all the ‘childish’ shit you put him through. Jack’s also kind and considerate. He went out of his way to get you a basket of fresh apples when you’re sweating bullets trying to catch a loose mare. He never scowled or snapped at you. He’s good for you.

“No. We’re just really good friends,” Joel spoke up firmly into the warm summer air.

It looked like he’s finished with his meal, assuming from how squeaky clean his plate has gotten. Good that he’s filling up. You’ve always liked guys with a little more pudge to them. Not that it mattered. You two were just really good friends as he put it.

“I don’t think I can stay friends with a gal so pretty,” Jack chimed in flirtatiously, a charming smile etched its way across his lips.

You smiled in return, making sure to count to three before letting your eyes wander back to where Joel was sitting. It might be wrong for you to be searching for another man’s reaction when you’re here having sweet Jack as your date. What was certainly wrong was how your stomach finally rumbled with nervous butterflies when you saw his expression. When you saw the small itch disrupting his collected expression; setting his lips into an unimpressed thin line, a small vein prominent on his neck.

God, you wish you could capture the moment on camera.

The rest of the evening went by civilly; you’d expect your really good friend to rip Jack’s head right off when he kept making those stupid flirtatious jokes. Joel looked like he was trying his best to stay grounded and rational, but it's no secret he's holding back a dirty scowl. You caught the way he stuck his tongue onto his inner cheek, or the way he scrutinized each and every joke your date made. Forcing him to explain it thoroughly and embarrassing him in the process; you know he’s an ass, but tonight he’s really testing your limits.

You’d imagine he’d have an excuse as to why he’s behaving this way, like how your veggies tasted weirdly bland he couldn’t hold back his face. It’s unbelievably silly how he thought you’d believe such things at your grown age. That’s another thing to deal with. 

At the moment, you just needed to focus on bidding Jack a sweet goodbye. His smooth blond hair glimmered underneath the moonlight as he leaned in for a kiss. One you didn’t expect quite yet, but you didn’t have the heart to push him away. He’s been a good company after all.

As you expected, it didn’t feel right. His lips were soft and tasted like fresh oranges, but it didn’t feel right. Was it a mistake to keep him at bay when you’re still unable to let go of your peculiar crush? Probably. You were deep in thought as you pulled the front door closed. A gust of wind blowing over your shoulder while you let the guilt marinate into every inch of your skin. 

You felt icky.

“I don’t like him.”

Joel’s disdain traveled quickly along the walls, down the hallway, and onto the exact spot where you’re standing. You turned on your heel to face him, your lips drew back in a snarl. After everything you went through tonight, all the pillow cushioning so that Jake doesn’t feel all the more offended by his audacity, and you’re rewarded with this? You expected him to do one thing and he couldn’t even make it right.

“Yeah?” you piped up, eager to rile him up. “Well, I like him a lot.”

He’s used to listening to your childish preambles. It didn’t take him long to learn how much fun you have just by disobeying his rules, going through with whatever your heart desires, even when it poses a great danger to your own safety. You’re always tricky to deal with, but it’s the only thing that keeps his heart pounding at his old age. The only thing that made him feel alive, thawed after years of surviving. Maybe that’s why he still persisted in keeping you around.

“I’m serious, sweetheart. He sounded like bad news.”

Fucking sweetheart? You scoffed, sounding offended. He would always use that nickname whenever he’s trying to get something through your thick head, whether it’s to stop you from jumping head first into a pond or in this case, to stop you from making rash decisions. He knew what he does to you. He knew that you’d always listen, but not tonight.

“If you spend just one second of your precious time listening to what he has to say, you might actually see what I see,” you glowered. “You were fucking with him the entire time.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You were looking down at him, Joel. You always do that. Think everyone’s beneath you.”

“I wasn’t. He’s just a little.. well, flimsy for you.”

“Oh fuck off. You don’t know a thing about me.”

That was a complete lie. He knew more things about you than you’d like, like the way you like your coffee in the morning and which horses were your favorite.

“I don’t?”

“You don’t.”

You solidified your answer, trudging your way past his shoulders like some agitated teenager. Joel thought you looked cute upset and maybe that’s sick of him, but he couldn’t help but be entertained at the way your lips jutted out in disagreement. You’re like this young new thing he’s obsessed with.

“Okay, okay. Come here. Don’t be upset at me. Jake is a nice boy.. I guess,” he gave in to the commotion you made, although he still felt somewhat bitter. 

Jake’s not that much different from what he’s like when he’s younger. Way before his kid, his botched marriage, and the apocalypse. When he’s twenty with a vision for life. It vexed him to admit that he was truly a good man for you. That the man you chose for once wasn’t a scheming jackass. “He worked with horses?”

“Yeah,” you gave in, flashing him the look. The one where you’re further emphasizing that you’re certain with your decisions, that you don’t need him guiding you towards what’s wrong and right like he always has. “He’s good with the horses.. and with me too. Gave me apples when it’s in season.”

Joel’s dark eyebrows curved at your statement. His arms lifted further up to rest against the thin of his waist, a judgemental stance in action. Did you think things like that were peak romance? What about all the times he personally executed all those clickers lurking over you? Whether it’s with a gun or a knife, he’s sure that he’d top Jack when it comes to things he did for you.

“Well then I’m happy for you,” he concluded with a curt nod, doing the one thing you didn’t expect him to do. You scrutinized his expression in response.

“You’re happy for me?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna go on a date with him.”

“Go ahead.”

“I’m gonna get him to kiss me again.”

“Wow. Sounds fun.”

“I’m gonna get him to fuck me so hard you could hear me in your stupid room, Joel.”

That one surely struck a nerve deep within him, judging from the way his lips contorted in disbelief. You’ve never been so.. vulgar in front of him. Not once have you mentioned anything about your sexual desires in front of him and so he thought you didn’t even know those kinds of things existed despite your big age. 

Maybe you’re untouched by the twisted world you’re living in. He assumed you were this sweet girl with an innocent crush on him, eyes twinkling with admiration everytime he walked in a room. He loved the attention, shamefully so, and he’d love to savor it as long as possible. Even when it felt wrong. He didn’t think it was possible for you to look at another in that manner. The thought had him marching towards you, large figure towering over.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart.”

“Why not?” you challenged him.

“Because you’re doing this for attention.”

“I’m not,” you struggle to keep the act upright.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you actually like him. Tell me you like that silly boy.”

You gaped at his request. Adam’s apple bobbing reluctantly as you gathered every last bit of your plummeting confidence to look up into his eyes. They were arrogant; browns peering down at you like he’s just delighted to domineer, to reassert the magnitude of his influence towards you. He caged you in with merely a look. 

This spited you. He’s always been like this. Give you some room to explore so that you don’t feel trapped with him, but he’d always give a little tug to your leash whenever you forget your position. You were his, before he was yours. That was rule number one.

“I like him,” you repeated yourself, bracing for the onslaught of tsunami he might release at your stubbornness. “He’s kind and sweet and lovely and.. and he has the balls to tell me how he felt about me.”

His expression of disapproval seared through your skin, leaving you raw and vulnerable to whatever it is he’s going to say right back at you. You could tell that he was livid, although he's clearly trying his best to be the better man out of the two of you and stay grounded. 

He knew what you're like. He knew that you're riling him up so that he'd cave in to your requests, because God was it terribly hard to stay put when you're looking at him like that. Round pupils bared into his own. Joel felt the revolting urge to soothe your worries, to utter meaningless words of assurance, to validate the bond he's been trying his best to suspend. His desire festered like it was contagious, blurring the line of boundaries.

“If this is about last week, you know my answers remained unchanged.”

"Why?"

You sounded hopeless and it's clawing at his skin.

"It's unfair to you."

"You know what's unfair, Joel? Acting like you gave a damn, then shutting me out of your life like I meant nothing."

You scoffed. You weren't just desperate for an answer now, no, you were furious. Angry that he thought he could make the decisions for you, that he could be the one to determine which things were right and wrong for you when he knew for a fact that you're a grown woman with your own mind to rely on. Angry that he'd put his self worth in the gutter. Angry that he thought you'd judge him even after the things you've been through together; endless drives through the motherland, camping under a sea of stars, dancing with death itself.

Was it that bizarre of an idea? You plucked up the courage to get even closer. The frilly yellow ruffles of your sundress grazing his crossed forearm.

You poked an accusing finger into his chest.

"Drowning yourself in your pathetic pity party because oh, you're so broken. So undeserving of love."

Your furrowed eyebrows drove him insane.

"Yet you still keep me around. Couldn’t push me away because God knows you need me more than you'd like."

Your labored breath teased the column of his neck.

"That's what's unfair. The fucking waiting. The dancing around. Put me out of my misery, Joel."

He didn't know what to say. Silenced for once.

"Look me in the eye and tell me you don't want me."

You dared him, just like how he dared you. Joel felt conflicted. His vision glued onto the tips of his worn down leather boots as if it’d provide some kind of answer to your demands, He inhaled sharply, before letting out a shaky sigh. Afraid that he’d promise you something he couldn’t own up to, especially since his sharp edges are now dulled from age. 

Joel couldn’t be selfish. No, he couldn’t be that person any longer when he has one foot in the grave.

He knew his end was approaching.

Subtly, but surely. His heart tightened sporadically every time he’d run a little too fast. His joints were stiff and useless, enough that Tommy threatened to pull him off patrols if he kept pushing at his pace. He recalled the incident from his last trip. How he barely escaped a loose infected because his senses had dampened. Your voice also seemed to become more and more faint; he couldn’t even hear the list of items you’ve burdened him with on a shopping trip. Whether you needed a jar of raisins or a pair of shears.

Claiming you was selfish.

He decided on that awhile ago. Far before you’ve realized your infatuation with him, far before you offer such a sweet proposition. 

“Come back to me when you stop being a fucking coward, Joel.”

His throat grew parched at the buzzing silence. He willed himself to touch you, even when it burned his finger tips and sizzled the tip of his ears red. You looked furious, but that cute expression faltered in a miniscule of a second when he cupped the side of your cheek. His thumb stroked agonizingly slow as if you'd evaporate into thin air if he was too brash.

He'd always thought you’re beautiful. One of a kind. Whether it’s when you’re drooling embarrassingly or when you’re dressed up for the commune’s party. But you look the most unbelievable when you’re worried for him.

Was that selfish of him? He traced over your bottom lip gently, feeling the plush material underneath. How he longed to press his lips onto yours. Would it taste sweet? Would you feel soft? His bottom lip quivered, unable to form an answer.

[dee-writes-angst]

GUMMY SHARKS

FEATURING Joel Miller x first-person!reader

SUMMARY your son is so a like to his father that sometimes it startles you in the most unexpected of times.

CONTENT WARNINGS grief, major traumatic events, end of the world, harsh language, descriptions of violence, mentions of guns, and depictions of murder

AUTHORS NOTE maybe this was just a me thing, but those gummy sharks were a childhood staple, especially on road trips.

SERIES MASTERLIST

"What was candy like?" Ellie's question hangs in the air, her curiosity piqued by the mention of a world long lost to the ravages of time. As she trails behind Joel, who follows in my wake, I can sense the weight of her inquiry, a yearning for a glimpse into a past that has become little more than a distant memory.

"I'm not sure," Amir responds, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness as he reflects on his lack of firsthand experience with the simple pleasures of life before the world fell apart. "I was born the same year that the world went to shit, so I can't tell you what chocolate and whatnot is," he admits with a shrug, his resignation tempered by a quiet acceptance of the reality in which he has always lived.

Though he tries to brush off his lack of knowledge with a casual indifference, I can hear the wistful longing in his words, a longing for a childhood that was stolen from him before he ever had a chance to truly experience it. It breaks my heart to see him robbed of the innocence and joy that should rightfully be his, replaced instead by the harsh realities of survival in a world gone mad.

"Though," he continues, his voice softening as he shares a rare glimpse into the tender moments he shares with his mother, "my mom always finds some kind of candy for us to share on my birthday. We don't have a calendar or anything, but every year I know that it's my birthday when she brings home candy."

"How does she know?" Ellie's inquiry drifted through the air, carried by the gentle breeze that rustled through the overgrown foliage lining the road. There was a sense of wonder in her voice, a curiosity tinged with awe as she contemplated the enigmatic ways of Amir's mother.

"Don't ask me," Amir chuckled in response, his laughter a welcome respite from the weight of the day's events. Despite the gravity of our situation, there was a lightness to his tone, a hint of amusement at the mysteries that surrounded his mother's uncanny intuition. "It's like she has a sixth sense for that shit, scary as hell," he added, a touch of unease creeping into his voice as he reflected on her seemingly supernatural abilities.

I fought to maintain the scowl that had settled on my face, a mask of stoicism that I wore like armor against the harsh realities of our world. But beneath the facade, I couldn't help but feel a pang of warmth at the sound of Amir's laughter. It was a rare moment of levity in an otherwise somber day, a reminder of the resilience that lay within us all.

"Your mom has to be a witch, dude. There is no fucking way!" Ellie exclaimed, her disbelief echoing my own thoughts. With a playful kick, she sent a small pebble skittering along the road, a tangible expression of her incredulity.

Amir nodded in agreement, his face lighting up with a beautiful smile that brought a flicker of joy to my heart. It was a smile that reminded me so much of him, of the boundless optimism and infectious enthusiasm that he brought into my life with each passing day.

But as quickly as the smile had come, it faded from my lips, swallowed up by the shadows that lurked at the edges of our reality. The darkness of our world seeped back in, casting a pall over the fleeting moment of happiness that we had shared.

In that moment, I was acutely aware of the fragility of joy in a world consumed by chaos. Like the fading scent of Axe deodorant, it lingered only briefly before dissipating into the air, leaving behind nothing but the bitter taste of longing and regret.

(Nightime, the same day)

I watched in silence as Amir set up his sleeping bag, my pack serving as his makeshift pillow in the dim light of our campsite. Nearby, Ellie simply plopped down beside him, her own pack doubling as a makeshift cushion as she wrapped herself in her small, thin jacket against the chill of the Missouri night.

Across the small clearing, Joel sat on a rock, his expression thoughtful as he seemed on the verge of rising to offer his jacket to Ellie. But before he could make a move, Amir beat him to it, unzipping his sleeping bag and gesturing for Ellie to join him inside.

There was a brief moment of hesitation in Ellie's eyes, a flicker of uncertainty as she considered the offer. But the chill of the night air seemed to outweigh any reservations she may have had, and with a grateful nod, she accepted, dragging her pack along the rough ground as she settled in beside Amir.

As they huddled together in the warmth of the sleeping bag, their closeness was palpable, a tangible reminder of the bonds that had formed between them in such a short time. It was a sight that tugged at my heartstrings, filling me with a bittersweet ache as I watched them interact with the ease and familiarity of old friends.

But beneath the surface, I felt a pang of unease, a gnawing fear that threatened to consume me. These people were strangers, travelers passing through our lives on their way to some unknown destination. And yet, as I watched the easy camaraderie between them, I couldn't help but worry about the inevitable moment when they would depart, leaving behind a void that would be felt all the more keenly in their absence.

The silence stretched on like an endless ribbon of darkness, wrapping around us in its cocoon of stillness. For a moment, I allowed myself to believe that they had both succumbed to the embrace of sleep, their breathing steady and even in the quiet of the night. But then, just when I thought the world had fallen into a hushed slumber, Ellie's voice pierced the silence like a whisper carried on the wind.

"What was your favorite candy that your mom brought back?" Her words hung in the air, suspended in the darkness as if waiting for a response.

Amir remained silent for a long while, his eyes closed in peaceful repose as he savored the memory that had been summoned from the depths of his mind. And then, a small smile curved his lips, a flicker of warmth in the cold night air.

"The little gummy sharks," he murmured softly, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia as he spoke. It was a simple answer, delivered with the certainty of someone who had found solace in the sweetness of a childhood memory.

As he spoke, a wave of realization washed over me, flooding my senses with the weight of the past. Twenty years had passed since I had brought back those stupid, stale gummy sharks for his seventh birthday, yet they remained etched in his memory as his favorite treat.

"Why are they your favorite?" Ellie's voice wavered with the fatigue of the long day, her words tinged with a sense of vulnerability as sleep threatened to claim her against her will.

Amir's response came with a wide yawn, his exhaustion evident in the heavy-lidded gaze he cast towards Ellie. "Because they were my dad's favorite," he murmured softly, the weight of his words hanging in the air like a lingering echo.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as his words sank in, each syllable carrying with it a heavy burden of sorrow and longing. My heart clenched painfully in my chest at the mention of Ty, the floodgates of grief threatening to burst open at the mere mention of his name.

I closed my eyes tightly, willing myself to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over, the memories of Ty flooding my mind with an intensity that left me breathless. The laughter we had shared, the dreams we had woven together, the love that had once bound us together in an unbreakable bond—all of it came rushing back in a torrent of emotion that threatened to consume me whole.

With a sudden, desperate gasp for air, I pushed myself up from where I was propped against a tree, my grip tightening on the gun in my lap as I fought to regain control of my racing thoughts. Without a word, I turned and fled into the darkness of the woods, my footsteps echoing like thunder in the silence of the night.

I ran blindly, each step carrying me further away from the pain and heartache that threatened to engulf me. And as I disappeared into the shadows of the forest, I knew that I was running not just from the memories of the past, but from the unbearable weight of the present—a weight that threatened to crush me beneath its relentless onslaught.

In the depths of the night, beneath the canopy of swaying branches and the watchful gaze of the stars, I allowed myself to surrender to the overwhelming tide of grief that threatened to engulf me. As I collapsed onto the damp earth, the tears flowed freely from my eyes, each sob tearing through the silence of the night like a dagger to the heart.

Memories flooded my mind like a torrential downpour, each one a bittersweet reminder of the life I had once known—the life I had shared with Ty. I remembered the laughter that had echoed through our home, the warmth of his embrace as we danced in the kitchen, the tender moments shared in the darkness of our shared bed.

But alongside the joyous recollections came the darker memories—the ones that haunted my nightmares and threatened to consume me with their relentless torment. I remembered the screams of agony, the spray of blood, the sound of teeth tearing into flesh—a cacophony of horror that echoed through the corridors of my mind with chilling clarity.

As I cried out in anguish, my soul laid bare beneath the weight of my grief, I felt a sense of release wash over me—a cathartic purging of the pain and sorrow that had held me captive for so long. With each tear that fell, I shed a little more of the burden that had weighed me down, until finally, I was left with nothing but a hollow emptiness—a void where once there had been love and joy.

[loverofallthingssarah]

If Flames Could Talk

Ellie Staple x reader

Part 2

Warning: nothing in this chapter

Word Count: 900+

Part 1 Part 3

A/N: Updates may be sporadic & sorry if there are errors I’m shit at proofreading my own writing cause I read it how I meant to write it ☹️

Ellie pulls up her chair as she settles into her desk before she prepares herself to meet her new patient. She just recently accepted a position at this hospital after some unfortunate events that took place. She was running from herself. Ellie’s life was not going in the direction she had always intended. Making a few mistakes along the way was normal, but the shit she got herself into with the secret organization trying to conceal the existence of superhumans for reasons that just didn’t seem important anymore. All Ellie wanted was a normal career of which she could be proud of by actually helping her patients.

Ellie reaches across her desk and pulls your file closer to her to review your past case notes. She hums to herself, ‘I really think I can help this patient; she has no prior incidents that we know of. It could have been psychosis triggered by any number of extenuating factors.’

She’s still skimming through jotting down a few notes when she hears a knock on the door, “Come in.” She watches as you tither on the edge of exasperation of being stuck in this institution. When her eyes connect with yours as you take the seat across from her, there is something so hypnotizing yet earnest about your eyes. She couldn’t quite look away no matter how hard she tried, “Miss L/n, let’s begin."

You rolled your eyes at her, “This is completely pointless. I did nothing wrong, so if you would please just sign whatever papers that say I’m perfectly fine so I can get out of this hell hole, that would be great.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not how this works, Miss L/n. I need to assess your well-being before we can even think about mainstreaming back into society. I’m not here to judge you for anything you may or may not have done. I’m here to help you. I want to try to uncover what happened that night since you’ve suppressed it in your subconscious. But in order to do that, you have to be willing to open up and work with me. For this first session, I just want to get to know each other to build some trust between us. Can we do that?”

Your eyes burn as you narrow in on hers. There was no way in hell you were going to just sit here and chitchat about your hobbies to appease her while you were falsely accused of something you didn’t do. Ellie watches as you turn your head to stare off out of the window in her office. Her eyes followed yours to the scenery outside the window. Ellie never noticed before how tranquil it was watching the trees sway back and forth to the circadian beat of the wind. As a minute or two passes, Ellie shakes herself out of her trance and takes a second to study your face as your take in the outside world. Your eyes ache with a desire to be back out there and a part of the world you once knew. Ellie’s heart ached thinking about how a beautiful girl such as yourself was here instead of out there living your life. Something in her felt like you deserved the world and how she wished she could be the one to give it to you. She knew how inappropriate that was and pushed her attraction to you aside. She’s a professional, and she knew this countertransference would fade. Well, she hoped it would.

“Miss L/n, I think it would be a cathartic experience for you if you took a second to just talk to me. About anything in your life, it doesn’t have to be about the fire or Lisa.”

“Stop calling me Miss L/n. My name is Y/n. I told everyone I didn’t do it, but no one seems to believe me. That includes you, and I’m not going to sit here and pretend things will change just because I tell you something that happened in my life ten or so years ago. I want to prove my innocence, but I can’t remember shit. How do I do that? How do I remember?”

Ellie looks at you, surprised. She never expected you to talk to her so quickly, “Well, Y/n, I think it’s important to work our way to recovering your memories. It’s not going to be an easy process, and I want to make sure you’re ready as well as can handle all that entails.”

“I’m ready now!”

She looks at you with a softness in her eyes, “We will get there, Y/n.”

Before you knew it, there was a soft knock on the door before your nurse walked right through, “Miss L/n, it’s time for you to return your room for dinner.”

You didn’t realize how fast time had flown by; it only seemed like you both had been in this office for a mere few minutes, but now it was time to retreat back to your shell of an existence. You weren’t ready to leave her just yet, but on the same token, you were exhausted from people just not believing you. A part of you really liked Dr. Staple, but the other part told you to keep everyone at arm's length. Ellie was having similar thoughts racing in her head. She wasn’t ready to call it a day with you even though today's session ran up. She wanted to continue talking to you and unriddle the mystery behind your eyes.

sfw taglist: @l0verssr0ck @rainbow-hedgehog @twistedpoeticjustice @dreamer-queen @kais-rose-garden @peggycarter-steverogers @magnificent-paulsonn @mrsdeanhoward @citizenoftheworld-stuff-blog @commanderspeach @in-cordelias-coven @lntlmate

[cabensonsgirly]

👼These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends (Multi-char)[NSFW]👼

Multiple SP characters x fem!reader

Xandra, Billie-Dean, Ally Mayfair, Anne Gillette, Audrey Tindall, Wilhemina Venable, Ellie Staple, Diane Sherman, Mildred Ratched.

👼Slice 1👼

Co-authored with @billiedeannovak even though she’ll deny it.

👼Wordcount: 3111👼

👼Published on AO3: Read Here👼

👼Content (some for later parts):Super AU, Dubious consent, slow-burn, manipulation, face-slapping, drug-use, alcohol, smut, cunnilingus, strap-on, cum, choking, degradation, sex-work, court, mentions of murder-suicide, descriptions of violence, bruises, choking, spit, mommy kink, humiliation, public sex/teasing👼

👼D.A. Novak:      What was the reason for the altercation?

Clark:                There was a customer that had been trying to… Pressure Ms. Gillette into giving him information about how she is able to obtain such wonderful pieces for her gallery. She had asked him numerous times to leave but he didn’t. Instead he had grabbed her wrist and tried- tried taking her to somewhere out of view but she had punched him and broken out of his grasp. The man retaliated by pushing her causing her to fall in which she twisted her ankle and fractured her wrist. She was able to get up with my assistance where she then punched him with her uninjured hand.  👼

    PEOPLE OF THE STATE OF NEW YORK

                                     VS

                          ANNE GILLETTE

 Court:             Members of the Jury, Anne Gillette has been charged in two counts with the crime of murder in violation of Penal Code §187. The information alleges that on or about December 17, 2010, in Manhattan, New York, the defendant, Anne Gillette, did kill Bert Gillette and Elaine Gillette, in violation of Penal Code §187. To this charge, Anne Gillette, has entered a plea of not guilty.

Court:             District Attorney Casey Novak you may call your first witness.

D.A. Novak:   Your Honour, the People call Adeline Clark.

CLERK SWEARS IN THE WITNESS

AND HAS WITNESS STATE HER NAME.

D.A. Novak:   How are you employed, Miss Clark?

Clark:              I am employed as an assistant at Ms. Gillette’s Art Gallery.

D.A. Novak:   Back in early April, 2010, did you call the police to the gallery because the defendant, Anne Gillette, had injured and been injured in an altercation?

Clark:             Yes, I did.

D.A. Novak:     Do you remember which officers responded to the call out?

Clark:               No. I wasn’t introduced to them once they arrived. I had been tending to Ms. Gillette’s injuries.

D.A. Novak:     Do you remember what the altercation was about?

Clark:               Yes, I do.

D.A. Novak:       What was the reason for the altercation?

Clark:               There was a customer that had been trying to… Pressure Ms. Gillette into giving him information about how she is able to obtain such wonderful pieces for her gallery. She had asked him numerous times to leave but he didn’t. Instead he had grabbed her wrist and tried- tried taking her to somewhere out of view but she had punched him and broken out of his grasp. The man retaliated by pushing her causing her to fall in which she twisted her ankle and fractured her wrist. She was able to get up with my assistance where she then punched him with her uninjured hand.

D.A. Novak:      How did you manage to call the police so that they would arrive before the perpetrator fled?

Clark:               I was able to call the police with the earpiece we have to take calls while we are away from the phone so that was how I was able to help Ms. Gillette get up. The man had been knocked back and looked like he was a bit surprised by Ms. Gillette’s actions so that’s how the police arrived before he was able to make a run for it.

D.A Novak:       Is this the first time that Ms. Gillette has been involved in some altercation while you were present?

Clark:               No. There have been a lot of people that harass her while we are out and about. I am usually able to stop them from getting to her but sometimes they get too close.

D.A. Novak:      Were you with Ms. Gillette the day of Bert and Elaine Gillette’s murder?      

Clark:               I was.  

D.A. Novak:       Where were you both between the hours of two and five am?

Clark:              We were getting ready to go to Paris to meet connections in the art world so that we could get a wider variety of pieces for the gallery.

D.A. Novak:       Did Gillette leave at any point during those three hours?

Clark:               No.

D.A. Novak:       Do you see Ms. Gillette in court today?

Clark:               I do.

D.A. Novak:       Could you please point her out for the jury?

Clark:               She’s sitting right there. (Pointing to the defendant)

D.A. Novak:      No further questions, Your Honour.

Court:             Defence Counsel Rita Calhoun, you may cross examine.

Defence

Counsel

Calhoun:           So Ms. Gillette is often subject to unwarranted harassment while you both go about your day?  

Clark:              Yes she is. I have tried convincing her to get private security, but she insists that it isn’t necessary.

D.C. Calhoun:   Do you have an opinion as to whether she has done anything to warrant such treatment from the public?

Clark:               She has done nothing but try and run her business. She has me send ten percent of profits to charities at the end of each business month.

D.C. Calhoun:   By the way, Ma’am, who provided Gillette the funds to start her gallery in the first place?

Clark:               Her parents, Bert and Elaine Gillette.

D.C. Calhoun:   She had backing by her parents?

Clark:               Yes she did. They hoped that she succeeded at something for once in her life.

D.C. Calhoun:   Now, when you were at her residence the day of the alleged murder, are you positive that Gillette did not leave the property?

Clark:               Positive!

D.C. Calhoun:   No further questions, Your Honour.

Court:             Miss Clark you may step down. Any additional witnesses on behalf of the People?

D.A. Novak:       Your Honour, the People call Nigel Prestwick.

CLERK SWEARS IN THE WITNESS

AND HAS WITNESS STATE HIS NAME.

D.A. Novak:      How do you know the defendant Ms. Gillette?

Prestwick:       She had been accused of stealing money from the Prestwick Foundation, making donations to recipients which supposedly were her. However, the case was closed due to the money being replaced.

D.A. Novak:      Despite this, recently you decided to press embezzlement charges, correct?

D.C. Calhoun:   Objection! Mr. Prestwick was put under duress and blackmailed to press charges by Detective Olivia Benson and Detective Ashok Ramsey.

Court:             Objection sustained.

D.A. Novak:      Requesting permission to approach the bench, Your Honour.

Court:             Granted.

D.A. NOVAK AND D.C. CALHOUN

APPROACH THE STAND.

Casey runs her lithe fingers through her hair as she lets out a frustrated sigh, glaring at Rita as though the woman herself had committed the murder. Rita simply quirked a brow, an amused smile tugging slightly at her lips, “What is the issue, Novak? We both know that Prestwick was blackmailed into pressing those charges by Benson and Ramsey.” The Judge gives Casey a look of disbelief “Is this true?”

The red head supresses the urge to roll her eyes and cuss Rita out and deny it, but she was under oath and getting caught out in a lie wouldn’t end well for anyone. “It’s hardly blackmail. Benson and Ramsey just took a photo of Prestwick in a compromising position and said that he either go ahead with embezzlement charges or they show the videos of him to his wife. At least it’s not fuc- At least it’s not murder” she hisses out angrily.

Rita shakes her head and looks at the Judge “Can the witness be removed from the stand because of this, Your Honour?” The Judge nods and motions for them to return to their respective places. A thoroughly perturbed Casey makes her way back and scribbles something down on paper, throwing one last glare at Rita; The older woman returns to sit beside the defendant, whispering in her ear “the Judge is going to dismiss the witness. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you are found not-guilty.”

Court:             The witness, Nigel Prestwick is dismissed due to unscrupulous methods being used in order to get charges pressed against the defendant.

Court:             Mr. Prestwick you may step down. Any additional witnesses on behalf of the People?

D.A. Novak:    Your Honour, the People call Detective Ashok Ramsey.

CLERK SWEARS IN THE WITNESS

AND HAS WITNESS STATE HIS NAME.

D.A. Novak:      Detective, how do you know the defendant?

Ramsey:           I have been investigating her for a while now for tax evasion, and embezzlement.

D.C. Calhoun:   Objection! Relevance. We are here because the defendant has been accused of murder, not tax evasion and embezzlement where the charges have already been dropped.

Court:             Objection sustained. Change line of questioning or dismiss the witness.

D.A. Novak:      Fine. The prosecution rests.

Court:             Defence Counsel Calhoun, do you wish to cross-examine?

D.C. Calhoun: No, your Honour.

Court: Detective Ramsey you may step down. Any additional witnesses on behalf of the People?

D.C. Calhoun:   The defence calls the Chief of Detectives, Muldrew.

CLERK SWEARS IN MULDREW AND

ASKS HIM TO STATE HIS NAME.

D.C. Calhoun:   Fancy seeing you here, Chief Muldrew.

Muldrew:         It has been awhile, Ms. Calhoun.

D.C. Calhoun:  You have had previous encounters with my client where you, and a previous witness Mr. Prestwick-

D.A. Novak:     Objection. Relevance, what does this have to do with the current case?

D.C. Calhoun:   There will be a follow up question, your Honour.

Court:             Overruled. Get to the point, Calhoun.

D.C. Calhoun:   As I was saying… Your previous interactions with my client have been in regard to previous charges being dropped, yes?

Muldrew:         Yes, that’s correct.

D.C. Calhoun:   Is it true that with this case, you said to Olivia Benson, Ashok Ramsey, and Elliot Stabler that unless they can prove definitively that my client, Ms. Anne Gillette was the culprit, that they would be on their own?

Muldrew:         Well…

D.C. Calhoun:   Is it true or not, Chief Muldrew?

Muldrew:         Yes it is.

D.C. Calhoun:   Did you think that there was enough evidence that pointed towards Ms. Gillette before the investigation had begun formally?

Muldrew:         It was hard to say at that time-

D.C. Calhoun:   It’s a yes or no question, Chief.

Muldrew:         No, I didn’t.

D.C. Calhoun:   Upon finding out that Ms. Gillette was in the company of Miss Clark, whom I might add has no criminal record, the time Ms. Gillette committed the alleged murder, did you think that your team was desperate to get her behind bars seeing as she has gotten off previous charges?

Muldrew:         …yes.

D.C. Calhoun:   My apologies, Chief Muldrew, I didn’t quite catch that, could you repeat yourself a bit louder into the microphone please?

Muldrew:         Yes I did- do think that the detectives were just wanting to see Ms. Gillette put behind bars because they were unable to get her on prior charges.

D.C. Calhoun:   Were you aware of the methods the detectives used in order to get Mr. Prestwick to go through with pressing charges?

D.A. Novak:       Objection. Relevance.

D.C. Calhoun:   It was during this current investigation that Mr. Prestwick was blackmailed. The question is relevant.

Court:             Overruled. Might do you some good to pay attention, Novak.

D.C. Calhoun:   Chief Muldrew, your answer please.

Muldrew:         No, I was not aware of it until today.

D.C. Calhoun:   Were you also unaware of Ms. Gillette being set-up so that a confession could be coerced out of her in unusual and stressful circumstances?

Muldrew:         No, I wasn’t aware of that. By this point I did not see enough solid evidence to link Ms. Gillette to the crime, so the team were off on their own.

D.C. Calhoun:   Were you aware of what Detectives Benson, Ramsey, and Stabler were up to, would you have let them continue on their warpath?

Muldrew:         No, I wouldn’t have. There is a right way and a wrong way to go about investigating crimes, especially ones as high-profile as this.

D.C. Calhoun:   No further questions, your Honour.

Court:             District Attorney Novak, you may cross-examine.

D.A. Novak:       No thank you, your Honour.

Court:             Chief of Detective Muldrew, you may step down. Defence Counsel Calhoun, does the defence wish to call any witnesses?

D.C. Calhoun:   The defence calls the defendant, Anne Gillette.

CLERK SWEARS IN MS. GILLETTE AND ASKS HER TO STATE HER NAME.

D.C. Calhoun:   Ms. Gillette, prior to the incident, how was your gallery doing?

Gillette:           It was doing well thanks to my assistant.

D.C. Calhoun:   When did you hire Miss Clark for that position?

Gillette:           It seems like so long ago. I think it was roughly around mid-January.

D.C. Calhoun:   Why did you decide to hire Miss Clark as an assistant after unsuccessfully trying to run galleries in the past?

Gillette:           My- My parents they… thought that I deserved one more chance to do something that I was- am passionate about. I didn’t want to disappoint them again because that’s all that I seemed capable of doing. So… I looked around and discovered that most successful gallery owners have assistants to help them.

D.C. Calhoun:   Has Miss Clark met the deceased before?

Gillette:           She has.

D.C. Calhoun:   Was she aware of you being the sole heir to the estate?

Gillette:           She was not until my parents brought it up in conversation one day.

D.C. Calhoun:   Was she, Miss Clark, aware of how strained your relationship with your parents had been?

Gillette:           No. I didn’t think the past would be beneficial towards the future of my business as well as re-building the relationship with my parents. I wanted her to have an unbiased opinion of them.

D.C. Calhoun:   Were your parents still happy together?

D.A. Novak:       Objection! The defendants answer would be hearsay.

Court:             Objection sustained.

D.C. Calhoun:   Did you have concern for your father’s mental well-being before he killed your mother before himself?

Gillette:           Of course, but I- I didn’t- I never thought he was capable of… killing my mother… He was your typical man, didn’t really like discussing mental health but I knew that he would occasionally see someone. I- I don’t know what changed in those twenty-four hours…

D.C. Calhoun:    Why was the trip postponed until the day the deceased were found dead?

Gillette:             I suggested that they wait another day because my mother was still recovering from the flu. I didn’t think travelling at the time would be a pleasant experience due to her still being ill. I know from personal experience that traveling while sick is absolutely miserable, so I only wanted both my parents to enjoy their time.

D.C. Calhoun:    Were you and Miss Clark actually packing at that hour for a flight to Paris?

Gillette:           Yes we were.  We had done an online check-in for the flight so that by the time we made it to the airport we wouldn’t need to stress over running late.

D.C. Calhoun:     No further questions.

Court:               Cross examination, District Attorney Novak?

D.A. Novak:       Ms. Gillette, you have a history of failure and criminal charges, correct?

D.C. Calhoun:    Objection. Relevance to the current case as no charges were successfully pressed.

Court:             Sustained. Change line of questioning.

D.A. Novak:     You spent all the money you were given in your trust fund from your parents, correct?

D.C. Calhoun:   Objection. Relevance.  

D.A. Novak:     There will be a follow-up question, your Honour.

Court:         Overruled. That question better be relevant, Novak.

D.A. Novak:       Thank you, your Honour. Ms. Gillette, your answer please.

Gillette:           I did, yes.

D.A. Novak:      Is it true that you were upset that your mother had been discussing whether or not to remove you from their will?

Gillette:           I was, but-

D.A. Novak:       Did you threaten to kill your mother if she did not keep you on the will?

D.C. Calhoun:   Objection. Leading question.

Court:               Sustained.

D.A. Novak:     Why was your name still on the will if your mother had reason to remove you from it?

Gillette:         How would I know that?    

D.A. Novak:     Miss Clark said that you often find yourself getting involved in altercations, is this true?

Gillette:         Yes. She said it under-oath so why would she lie when the consequences would be more severe than just telling the truth?

D.A. Novak:     I’m surprised you know the consequences, Ms. Gillette, but it’s not entirely surprising seeing as you have had run-ins with the law before-

D.C. Calhoun:   Objection. What is the point?

Court:             Sustained. Hurry up and get to the point, Novak.

D.A. Novak:     Your history of run-ins leads one to believe that you are rather volatile. Have you ever hit or injured one or both of your parents?

D.C. Calhoun:   Objection. Relevance.

Court:             Overruled. Novak, continue.

D.A. Novak:     Thank you. Ms. Gillette?

Gillette:         No. I haven’t.

D.A. Novak:     I find that hard to believe, Ms. Gillette seeing as, if we are to believe what Miss Clark has been saying is true, you often react physically when an altercation arises.

Gillette:         I act in self-defence. I have never gone out of my way to deliberately injure someone! You can’t blame me for my parent’s death when I wasn’t even there!

D.A. Novak:     Yes, Ms. Gillette, I do blame you. No further questions, your Honour.

Court:             Ms. Gillette, you may step down. Defence Counsel Calhoun, any further witnesses?  

D.C. Calhoun:   The defence rests.

Court:             We will now hear closing arguments of counsel. District Attorney Novak you may proceed.

D.A. Novak:     Members of the jury – the evidence is undisputed that the defendant, Ms. Gillette brutally murdered her parents. The evidence shows that Ms. Gillette has a history of run-ins with the law as well as physical altercations. She also is clearly incapable of being smart with her money, and seeing as she is the sole heir to the Gillette Estate she has more than enough motive to commit this atrocious act. Ms. Gillette’s mother had been contemplating removing her from the will which, the defendant admitted, upset her considerably. The detectives investigating this case have reason to believe that this was indeed a homicide committed by Ms. Gillette and not a murder-suicide committed by Mr. Bert Gillette!

Court:         Defence Counsel Calhoun, you may proceed with your closing argument.    

D.C. Calhoun:    Members of the jury. My client, Ms. Gillette, is not guilty of this charge. The investigation was unjust from the start; Ms. Gillette was coerced into her confession under rather dubious circumstances, and Prestwick was blackmailed into pressing charges. The detectives have been gunning for Ms. Gillette to be sent down from the beginning. We have even heard from Chief Muldrew that he thought the detectives were out of order and were behaving inappropriately considering how high profile that this case is. Miss Clark and Ms. Gillette were at Ms. Gillette’s residence preparing for their flight and we have heard in Miss Clark’s testimony that Ms. Gillette did not leave the premises between the hours of two and five am. It is clear that there is an unfair bias towards Ms. Gillette which has narrowed their perspective. Bert Gillette had a history of mental health issues and unfortunately it seems that they got the better of him resulting in the untimely death of Elaine Gillette before he took his own life. Ms. Gillette did not kill her parents. She is not guilty.

Court:       Court is adjourned while the Jury retire to deliberate.

As soon as the Judge has left the room as well as the Jury, the courtroom is filled with the sound of people talking, only just able to be passed off as aggressive whispering. Rita lets out a breath she felt like she had been holding since Anne took the stand but surprisingly, she held her own and didn’t have one of her notorious outbursts. She sorts her papers out and puts them in her folder, a somewhat cocky smirk on her face, “I have a good feeling about this, Ms. Gillette.” Anne laughs lightly and stands up alongside Rita “I would expect nothing less from you, Ms. Calhoun. You are one of the best after all.”

[ververa]

Unspoken Words

A/N: Alright, so first things first, story time. I had this idea... I wasn’t going to write it, because whenever I write for Ellie Staple I get carried away. If you know, you know (if you don’t, just read Asylum) Anyways I spent a whole night telling my best friend all about it. And in the end I had to write it for the sake of my own peace. And I did. I wrote it, but then I was resistant to post it, because I feel like it’s kinda dark. But again my best friend told me how proud she is of me for accomplishing it and other shit like that (yes, I’m a sucker for such things) and then @misssmephisto​ shared her opinion and they both convinced me to post it. So, many thanks to them both!!! It’s been a while since I wrote for my baby Ellie Staple and I almost forgot how much I like it.

As for you, petals, I hope you’ll enjoy it! Please, let me know what you think about this one <3 

Dr Ellie Staple x fem!reader

Word count: ~4000

Warnings: mention of death I guess

The day she thought everything ended was actually only the beginning. The very beginning of real struggle she wasn't prepared for. The struggle she didn't expect. The danger she wasn't aware of. Of course, she knew what kind of consequences the failure could bring. Yet she hadn’t considered failure an option. It had never happened before. The Organization never lost, not until the last mission. Her mission.

Ellie's hands were clenched on the steering wheel. She sighed looking at the files of documents on the passenger seat, before her gaze shifted to her reflection in the rearview mirror. She had been sitting in her car for over 30 minutes, doing nothing, but looking blankly at the passersby. How did it come to that? When did things go wrong? How could she not realize it earlier? How could she be so oblivious? So blind? So stupid? 

She was the one in charge. The boss, the coordinator of the operation. She was supposed to know it. She should have overseen it. Outsmart them. But she had not. She hadn’t, because she hadn’t been fully focused on her job. She had allowed herself to be distracted. She displayed a weakness and now was going to suffer the consequences. The damage was done. She knew the price. It was high. Too high at that point, yet it hadn’t occurred to her earlier. Not when she had gotten the offer to join the Organization, not when she signed the papers, not even when she had to give up on her own life. Until the very end she believed it was all worth it. But was it for real?

Ellie kept going over her papers, recalling everything she had done and replaying it in her mind. Every little detail. Minute by minute. Second by second. Over and over again. Trying to find the answers she needed so badly. Trying to figure out when she failed. When she made a mistake.

Each of her reports and research papers was impeccable. She remembered almost every word, the tiniest detail of each research, but it didn't mean a thing anymore. Not now, that the Organization was revealed. There was nothing left for her and as it turned out, she regretted only one thing. Just one. Her biggest regret - you. 

Ellie never knew the realization of loss could be so violent. But it was. And the fact she didn’t have enough time to fix it hurt even more.

She wanted to get everything right. And the great idea of saving the world, the way of thinking she subscribed to - it seemed right. Though as the mission failed nothing seemed right anymore. At first Ellie was outraged, but that feeling subsided very soon. Sooner than she would like it to. Her rage gradually faded, turning into fear. She was terrified, especially that she knew exactly what was going to happen. And that… that was something her studies hadn’t prepared her for. Nothing could have prepared her for that. Nothing and no one could make her ready for death. 

A part of her considered it a natural process, a natural course of events. After all no one could choose what would stay and what would fade away. But maybe she could? Not completely, but to some extent.

Her job had always been the priority. Ellie had always put it first. She always listened to her brain, never allowed herself to get carried away, never allowed her true feelings to display. Not until you. Her work might have been a priority, but you were everything in between. You were her thoughts. The space in her bed. Warm coffee in the morning. Quick kisses on the forehead. The warmth that she was coming back to every evening. The relief to her exhausted mind. The feeling she couldn't get enough off. The light of each day. You were her heart. But then you turned into her regret. Her biggest loss. The one mistake she wanted to fix. The only thing she needed to resolve before it was too late.

But what was she supposed to say? Ellie couldn’t find the answer to that question and she had less and less time. She needed some resolution. Some revelation. Someone to cure her from the grief. To bring her some relief. She desired just one more touch. One more taste of that heavenly, devouring rush. A vision of the start and the end. Just a little bit of you. That’s why she came, though she didn’t have enough courage to actually knock at your door. 

But there you were - watching. Observing her. As you did for the past week.

"If the mission fails, kill the target" that was the order. But how could you kill the woman you used to call yours. The one and only who got to your heart and owned it. The one you'd take the bullet for, rather than pulling the trigger.

She took your heart with her that day. The day you two parted. And ever since you felt dead again. Numb, deprived of feelings, unable to separate the good and the bad. The line between the two had always been rather thin and blurry for you. That’s how they made you. Everything you knew was manufactured, fake. Everything, but Ellie. Everything, but what the two of you used to have. That feeling. The sensation. The only real emotion you knew. The only good thing in your life. 

Everyone had always treated you as a monster, a heartless creature. Their perfect killing machine, programmed to destroy. To bring nothing, but chaos. The one to make peoples' biggest fears come out. Their perfect toy to play with anytime. Their weapon. Nothing more, nothing less. But not for Ellie.

Ellie was different. She might have worked with them, for them, but she wasn't like them. She was compassionate. She was good. Not flawless, but definitely not evil. Maybe lost. Maybe confused. But not evil. No, not her. She wasn't bad. Not your Ellie. 

But was she still yours? Could you still call her your Ellie? You weren't sure of it. At that point you weren't sure of anything. The only thing you knew was that you couldn't do it. No power could make you pull the trigger. Nothing and no one could force you to do it. And that, the inability of following your order made you think that maybe, just maybe there still was another way. An escape. A solution that was yet to be found. The chances were slim to none, but you were a fighter. You were strong, resilient. Brilliant. Incredibly intelligent and completely focused. That's why you were so efficient. But that was only half of what you really were. What made you truly dangerous was the fact you were fearless. How could you ever be scared, when you were what they called fear. You made people scared and they had a good reason for it. You realized it. You hated it.

~~~

"What kind of superhero are you?" she asked you once when you were in her office

Ellie observed you. Carefully, warily. She registered every move. As if trying to figure you out. After all, it wasn't usual that patients came to her willingly, seeking help. None of them was aware of the fact they needed it. Was it possible then that you actually were?

"I'm not" you answered after a long pause, your voice was calm, clear and loud, but calm

The redhead looked into your eyes. Her stare was piercing, but she couldn't find anything behind your big, wide open eyes. How could she ever find anything in them when all they filled you with was nothingness in the first place.

"Who are you then?"

"A nobody"

Her eyes squinted, as she tried to come up with the right words. You appeared to be the most complex case she had ever encountered. And yet she was far from being scared. Ellie had never got scared of the unknown. The only thing she felt was curiosity and the need to explore. And that's what she did.

~~~

It had been almost a year since your ways parted. Breaking up wasn't something questionable. You were prepared for it. You knew it would happen eventually. The only thing you hadn't expected was that you'd miss her. You weren't supposed to feel - the same as you weren't supposed to fall. But you did and nothing was the same anymore. You happened to find love where it wasn't supposed to be. You found love in her and there was no talking sense to you.

Now the only option you had was to stand and fight. To protect your heart. To protect her, in hope she'd still want you. In hope she'd open her arms for you the way she used to. You wanted her to choose you, again. But you wanted her to choose you willingly and not for fear. You wanted her to want you the way she had wanted you back then. Because even under those circumstances, she had a choice. She always did. You always allowed her to decide and it wasn't going to be any different this time.

~~~

The thing that made your relationship work was that none of you asked questions. It was an unspoken rule that the two of you had. You never asked about Ellie's work and she never asked about yours. The moment you crossed the threshold of the apartment your work stopped existing. Stepping in you were leaving everything else behind. Your work and problems stayed outside. There were only the two of you. No questions, no doubts, no explanations, no complications. Only you and Ellie living an ostensibly normal life. None of you ever had a problem with that. It seemed to be what you both needed - a hint of normality. Or rather the illusion of it.

That's how it was. And it was good. At least you thought so. You were both rather content with the way your relationship worked. Though even the strongest feelings, the greatest love couldn't be built on the cornerstone made of lies and understatements. You knew it. You ignored it. Was it easier that way? No. But it was safer. 

And so you didn't ask and neither did Ellie.

You didn't ask even when she was spending whole nights at her clinic. You didn't ask even when she disappeared for a few days. Work. That was the only answer and you got it. You understood it and accepted it, because it was the same with you.

Ellie didn't ask what had happened when you came back with a black eye. She didn't ask any questions even when your whole body was bruised, when you were all sore, when you hurt to the point you could barely move - because something on the way to accomplishing your order had gone wrong. She never asked. She knew she couldn't, because then you would ask too.

And so you both remained silent. Choosing oblivion over the truth. Opting for sweet, little lies. Deciding to live in your illusionary, safe world that the two of you built inside the walls of your apartment.

~~~

Ellie took a deep breath as she got out of the car. Finally making up her mind, gathering what was left of her courage to face you. She moved towards the entrance of the building. Slowly, cautiously, pressing her briefcase to her chest, looking over her shoulder every so often, as if waiting for something or someone. She looked tired. Tired and worried, petrified you would dare to say. Ellie never displayed that kind of feeling. She always held everything inside, just like you did. But at that point it wasn’t possible for her. She tried, she truly did, but you knew she was on the verge of breaking down. She knew what was going to happen and so did you. It was inevitable. She was aware of it and that was scaring her. She didn’t realize you were there. She couldn’t know it. The same as she couldn’t know it was inevitable for most, but not for her. Not until you were alive. Not until she was under your protection.

Ellie hoped to remain inconspicuous as she entered the hotel lobby. She knew it was your new home. She hoped to find you there and that’s what she was focused on at that moment. But it was until she noticed the man in a long, black coat following her. And then she noticed another man - dressed in a military green coat. He stood over the corner, trying to pretend he wasn’t watching her. But Ellie wasn’t stupid. She knew better. She was preparing to run, hoping she’d make it to you in time, when she felt a hand on her lower back.

Her eyes widened. There was only one person in the world, who would dare to hold her that way. Yet she didn’t  turn, in case she was wrong. 

“Stay cool” she heard you whisper into her ear, your warm breath tickling her cheek and just for a moment she allowed herself to close her eyes and enjoy a few seconds of comfort your touch provided. It was the relief she needed and you were there to grant it, as you always did. She never knew how you were doing this, you just seemed to know exactly when she needed you the most.

~~~

Even though Ellie loved her job and was completely dedicated to her patients, it wasn’t always easy. As a matter of fact, it never was. She often found herself getting mad over stupid, minor things only because something hadn’t gone as planned at the hospital. She was struggling. Her work started reminding a jungle rather than a specialized clinic. Her patients didn’t cooperate and began slipping out of control. She was tired and mad. She needed to be in control all the time, no matter what. 

“Good morning” you said, entering the kitchen. Ellie didn’t even look at you. She knew you said something, but was too lost in her thoughts, desperately trying to find the solution, to register and comprehend your words.

She stood at the window, observing a busy street. Her thoughts on the loop. It happened quite often - her losing the connection with reality, getting lost in her imaginary world. But that was her way of solving problems. By creating different scenarios in her head and replying them over and over again, until she found the one that worked out the way she wanted it to. You knew her habits. You knew her inside out, even the darkest corners of her mind, which she unintentionally reached pretty often. That’s when you stepped in. Somehow you just knew not only when you ought to do it, but also how to keep her grounded.

“Coffee?” you asked offering her a mug with the beverage and placing your other hand on her lower back

Ellie looked at you. She didn’t answer, just nodded and offered you a small smile. She took the mug from you and as you made sure she was holding it, you wanted to go away.

“Y/N” you stopped, when she called your name

“Yes?”

“Stay?” it came off more as a question. Ellie wasn’t the type to ask for affection or attention - you knew.

“Of course” you smiled sitting on the couch and opening your arms for her

Ellie put the coffee down on the table, before sitting in your lap. There was no place she’d rather be than in your arms.

~~~  

“C’mon, we need to go” you brought her back to the cruel reality “We’ll use the stairs instead of the elevator, for…” you hesitated, paused, trying to find the right word “...safety. Now, let’s go. Second floor. Room 46”

Ellie nodded, immediately complying to the order. You let her go first, making sure she was safe. You watched the men out of the corner of your eye. You knew the management’s decision. You knew that Ellie with all her knowledge and experience was now considered a threat. She couldn’t be controlled anymore and they had nothing to lose, so they decided to get rid of her. You knew all their motives, you knew more than they thought you did. You had expected they would send others for her, but you hadn’t really had the time to think it all over. You didn’t manage to come up with a good enough plan that would allow your both to stay safe. But you couldn’t think about it now. You had to keep going.

You locked the door, then quickly moved to curtain the windows. Ellie observed you. She still wasn’t aware of many things, but you knew she’d figure them out soon. You understood you didn’t have much time before Ellie would put two and two together. You kept moving nonetheless and Ellie kept watching you. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t know what to say or if she should say anything. You were moving fast. You opened the wardrobe, then took a white shirt and a pair of black jeans. You handed them to Ellie.

“Change!” you said, not even looking at her. You wanted to, but you couldn’t. You knew that if you do, you’d be both in even more trouble. There was no time for explanation.

Ellie looked at the white shirt, it was your favourite. She still remembered.

~~~

Ellie was sitting in the armchair. A glass of wine in one of her hands, a book in the other. Yet she paid no attention to it. She was watching you. A small smile forming on her face, as she observed your moves. You were ironing your shirt. You were doing it for the past 20 minutes. Repeating the action multiple times, because it being smoothed wasn’t enough. It had to be perfect. Perfectly smoothed. 

Ellie tilted her head to the side, so that she could have a better view of your face. You were so focused. So invested in the process as if your life depended on it. You were a perfectionist. Always so fastidious and precise. She shook her head and chuckled, as you were about to start all over again.

“Y/N, it’s the fifth time. It’s smoothed already. Leave it”

“It’s not good enough. It’s still wrinkled...”

“It’s not” Ellie put her book and the glass of wine down “Let me help you” she said stopping next to you, waiting for your permission

You looked at her, unsure of what to do. You didn’t like others touching your things. She knew it.

“C’mon, Y/N, it’s just a shirt”

“It’s my favourite” you admitted, shyly, as if you were ashamed

Ellie smiled. Her hand moved to your cheek and gently caressed it.

“I’ll be careful then” she said, kissing your forehead

~~~

As she stood there, now dressed in your clothes, taking in your scent - that she missed so much, it suddenly hit her that she had never tried to figure out why you were that way. She had never wondered where all your excessive habits came from. And she knew for a fact there had to be a good reason, a serious cause of them, but it wasn’t the right time to ask. There was no time to ask. And she wasn’t sure if she still had the right to demand any answers.

At that point you were both on the edge of basically everything. Though you couldn’t think of your past, not now, when your present was so screwed up. There was no time for questions and explanations. They wouldn’t change anything anyways.

Deep inside you both knew you’d have to talk about it. To have that kind of conversation you both dreaded of so much. The one full of questions to which you would have to provide answers, whether you liked it or not. Regardless of how ugly the truth was.  But it wasn’t the time. It wasn’t the right time and place. For now you and your wellbeing were hanging on mutual trust. The moment of truth would come in time. You knew it. You agreed on that the second your eyes met, as you both stood in the middle of the room. It was another unspoken agreement. Another deal you two made. But at that moment you didn’t need words to understand each other. There was only one thing on your mind - to make it through.

“You’ll be fine” you said, not sure if you were talking to Ellie or to yourself. She nodded.

“We’ll be fine” she said, carefully reaching for your hand. 

That was another feature of your relationship. You never spoke too much. You never truly allowed yourselves to be completely open with each other. You couldn’t. But you still were close. Granting each other comfort. A hint of understanding and sympathy. That’s why you always held each other - whether it was holding hands, resting your hand on her lower back or her placing her hand on your thigh. The simple gestures were your own way of communicating, of releasing unspoken words, of telling each other “I’m here” “I care” “You’re not alone”. It was as simple and complicated as that.

There was a lot happening at once. A lot to face. A lot to deal with. Though you knew for sure that as long as they didn’t separate you, you two would be fine. You knew you would manage to find a way. To resolve the situation. After all, it was only the beginning.

Tag list: @midnight-lestrange​, @natasha-danvers​, @stopkillinglilyrabe​, @welshdragonrawr​, @saucy-sapphic​, @yang12e​, @xixxiixx​

[raleigh-ocean]

the call

words: 1, 641

N/A: spoilers free! I hope you like this little thing, I loved the film and I wanted to do something for her...and also add her to the list of characters I write for.

Your hand found nothing but an empty space when you woke up. Your head still hurt a bit, the pain intense behind your eyes, and you flinched softly when you tried to make your brain think. Your eyes tried to adjust to the darkness, at least enough for you to not make a mess of the stuff in the night stand and turn on the light.

A nightmare induced because of your headache was the worst.

The soft light soon confirmed you that you were alone in bed, when you had been sleeping by your girlfriend’s side. Taking your hoodie from the floor, right where you left it before dozing off, you decided to explore the tiny apartment in case she was in the studio. Hand in your chest and the other arm hugging yourself to not lose the little warmth you gathered, you walked sleepy with care of not bumping onto anything.

When you reached the living room, there was only a line of light letting you know there was someone in the studio, all thanks to the door ajar.

A tiny sigh left your lips, deciding in what to do and your tired brain thought tea was the only answer to any of your problems. Using the light from the hood, you managed to take a mug and pour some water without having any accidents, soon the microwave on to prepare your tea. In other circumstances you'd have boiled the water or used the electric kettle, but you would take too much time.

While watching the mug spinning slowly inside the microwave, your head started to focus in the woman that was in the studio at your back. As the days went by, you could clearly see how stressed Ellie was growing and more than one night she had been in the same position as today. It worried you that all that stress could hurt her even more as she was accumulating everything, but you couldn't tell much since she didn't like to talk about what was going on in her head.

The pling of the microwave startled you for a second, making you aching brain buzz, but as soon as you had the warm mug in your hands everything started to settle again. Still too hot to take a sip, you decided instead to finally make your way towards the studio and see what was keeping your Ellie awake at...three twenty in the morning.

Through the door ajar, you watched her figure leaning a bit over the desk, her hands covering her face and her glasses pushed up in her head. Whatever she was reading, it was stressing her more apparently, knowing just by the way her honey curls were a bit messy and tangled from her fingers playing with them.

Taking a deep breath, the bright light of the studio making you flinch, you knocked on the door softly to not scare her.

"A penny for you to come back to bed?" you said with a bit hoarse voice, crossing the door and waiting for her to invite you in. Your hand went to your eyes to avoid the discomfort.

Ellie's eyes soon caught your figure and she was fast to turn off the light and turn on the lamp over the desk, going back to her chair without a word.

"I needed to go over some notes," her voice was a mere whisper and she motioned you to come in with a hand. "Give me a minute sweetheart."

You walked to her desk slowly, adjusting to the new low light better. The tea was still hot, but you took a sip the same, trying to not think about how she just looked over your question. Ellie was like that sometimes, not actually replying to things directly, so it didn't bother you much. Your approach ended up in you resting your weight in the arm of her chair, with care to not break the thing.

Leaving the mug in the desk, you rested your hand first in her shoulder and soon she was pulling you into her lap fully, hugging you from behind as you rested your arm over her shoulders. Ellie hummed, still focused but more relaxed now that you were with her, when your fingers started to brush her hair slowly.

"You could have wake up a bit earlier to go over them," you whispered, kissing her temple before resting your cheek in her head. "You are only human after all, you have to rest too love."

The hand that was resting on your low belly tightened a bit under your clothes, and she sighed at that before leaving a kiss in your shoulder. Ellie always needed to be skin-to-skin with you and you liked that.

"And you are sick and up, shouldn't I be saying the same?" she then chuckled against your shoulder and her eyes finally left the paper to look at you.

"I needed my favourite doctor to make me feel better but she wasn't around," you moved a bit to be able to look at her better, your hand still trying to brush her hair slowly and with cate. "Finding her was more important than a headache and an incoming cold."

Ellie's features softened as you brushed your fingers through her hair and soon her eyes were closed. It was always something that relaxed her, your fingers easing the knot in her head while she was holding you close, drowning in your scent and presence.

"Well, doctor says then it's time to go back to bed," Ellie mumbled, lifting her head enough to kiss your neck. "It's that tea what I see?"

"Yeah," your girlfriend tried to reach the mug but you caught her hand. "But it's only for those who are going back to bed with their girlfriends."

She groaned a bit, but you knew she was almost giving in. Your eyes darted to the open page in the folder over the desk, not getting much information from it since your brain barely was keeping you up awake enough. That...man? was causing all Ellie's problems? Under all the papers, there were some comic issues she might be going over to complete whatever she was doing.

Since she didn't move, rocking you ever so softly in her arms as if she was deep in thought again. Going for a kiss now that you were getting sick wasn't a good idea, but you kept brushing her hair while watching her bite her lower lip. Maybe it was for the best that you went back to bed, you thought when her free hand - the one that wasn't caressing the skin under your navel - went again to turn a page of her document.

Your headache made you flinch lightly again and decided to go back to bed after that cue.

When Ellie felt how you stood up, she looked at you again. Watching you take a sip of your tea before you placed the mug in her hand, she felt a tug in her heart. Sometimes she got too caught up with her brain and her thoughts that whatever she had said before, simply vanished from that place in her brain. the warmth from the mug felt strange in her fingers without you in her arms. 

Starting to walk away from her, something apparently made you stop midway to the door. Ellie tilted her head with curiosity, because she knew you weren’t one for asking something more than twice.

“If I was a superhero, I would take you anywhere so you didn’t have to stress over all that,” your voice was low, as if it was something you were ashamed of the confession. “Like flying ourselves out of here.”

Ellie wanted to genuinely smile at your cute statement, but it only made the knot in her stomach tighten. Sipping some tea to ease it, she waited for a couple seconds to gather her thoughts before actually reply to you. 

“Why would you have to be a superhero darling?” her chuckle wasn’t natural and she hoped you didn’t notice the fear leaking through her facade.

“Because you’d listen to me if I was one,” you gave her a tired smile while rubbing your eye with care, the sleep getting through you again.She could see the hurt in your eyes and hear it in your tired voice. “Don’t stay up all night, okay?”

As soon as you were gone, Ellie couldn’t focus anymore in what she was reading. She could only recreate your words in her head, over and over again. Bringing the mug closer to her, resting the rim against her lower lip. There were a lot of things that could go wrong if she didn’t have everything perfectly prepared, but now...

...for God’s sake, Ellie knew that everything was perfect in those papers.

Taking another good sip, she started to pile everything without caring much. She could always wake up earlier and sort it out again. At this point, she just didn’t care. Turning off the lamp and getting on her feet, Ellie walked with determination towards the bedroom and when she saw you cuddling her pillow, fast asleep, her heart felt full and warm again.

When she slipped in bed with you, she couldn’t help but take your sleepy form in her arms and it only gave her another soft tug to see how you adjusted without waking up. She wasn’t one for cuddling but, for you, she could do it.

“I don’t need you to be anything but yourself,” she whispered softly against your forehead, warm with the incoming fever as she could tell. 

And with that, Ellie thought that she needed a break.

Even if it was only a day. 

She needed it to remind herself that you were the only thing in her life that wouldn’t ever change.

[sheloooveswomen]

new nurse - ellie staple x reader

masterlist

summary: in the company nurse’s office?! oh me oh my. you have to go for your yearly health exam for work. i know ellie isn't this type of doctor but oh well. i watched an actual exam on youtube for this. 

includes: ellie x fem!reader, thoughts are italicized, all in reader’s POV.

warnings: nsfw/smut. i’m trying to get better at it.

i don’t really like this one but again i say: oh well.

3,700 words

Y/N POV//

There's no doubt I'm looking at the new nurse... It’s certainly not the view I expected.

Leaning over her desk, she sorts through papers. Her pose bringing up the hem of her white uniform to draw attention to long legs clad in white tights.

fucking hell.

I quickly close my eyes to try and delete what I just saw and thought from my brain. Seems I should've been worrying about the examiner instead of the examination.

great. cool cool cool.

Clearly the new company nurse is nothing like the old one. Martha was a slim woman in her mid 60s that would tell stories about her grandkids and what the company was like before I was even born. She had comforting Meryl Streep energy. Not the energy of a redhead in heels that would make me twist my ankle.

I should turn and run very very fast, but I can't because I'd like to remain employed. But I would very much not like to embarrass myself in front of- oh lovely she sees me now.

With a smile she waves me into her office.

Of course the rest of her is stunning.

"Hi, sorry- I wasn't sure if I should knock or- I'm—"

"Y/n L/n?" she finishes.

"Right" I force a smile.

"I'm Dr.Staple, but Ellie is fine. Just let me finish looking over your file and we can go right through to the examination room."

The last thing I needed was for her to return to her previous position to read the file, but she did.

Wow look at that ceiling and these posters are so very interesting, educational, one might say.

Once again clearing my head of the sight is impossible.

“I’ve been turning over the old files into a new database so I’m only now seeing your medical history.” It couldn't have been more than a minute before she spoke again, "It looks like you're in good shape."

{ a/n: pretending i'm healthy mentally and physically for this one }

My confusion did not go unnoticed.

Ellie turns to sit on her desk and laughs, "Your health I mean."

The blush that was for sure on my face already intensifies under her gaze, "Oh um- yeah I haven't had to come here aside from the yearly check ups." my eyes dart back to the posters.

"Well, time for another one" she gathers the papers and nods her head towards the other door, "come on through to the examination room."

After letting me in first, Ellie lays a stethoscope around her neck. Giving me time to scan the room and realize everything is the exact same as it was last time. Besides the fact that my heart is trying to punch a hole through my chest. I try to take deep yet quiet breaths to relax. Not working at all, which is making it worse. Hearing the door close I try to return her smile, or at least have a neutral expression.

"You can set your bag there" she gestures to a chair, "you only need to take off your shirt and shoes, then we can get started."

"Should I put a gown on?" I ask.

"If you'd like" she replies, scribbling away on a blank form, "this shouldn't take long so just staying in your shorts would be fine, too, since I'll need to take a look at your back."

"Oh, okay." I nod dumbly, trying to form a thought.

"Would you like me to get you a gown?"

Looking to the opposite side of the room I see Ellie suppressing a smile.

I'm not the greatest with social interaction but there's something behind that smile right.

"No it's okay." I blurt out before I can stop myself.

"We'll just start with your vitals once you're ready" she goes to wash her hands and put on gloves.

Hyperaware of the possibility of her eyes on me, I set my bag down and reach for the top button of my uniform. Somehow I manage to take it off without fumbling the buttons. The image of Ellie leaning over her desk flashes through my mind.

Your constant harassment of the female gender makes me sick.

I rub my now clammy hands over my shorts before folding my top and placing it on my bag. Nervously adjusting the straps of my bra (a relatively nice one thank god) and the waistline of my shorts.

"You can go ahead and take a seat on the examination able."

Seeing her reach for the blood pressure cuff does nothing to ease my heartbeat.

Still too late to run?

Ellie speaks up having noticed my hesitation, "No need to be nervous." That also did nothing to ease my heartbeat, "Whichever arm you'd like.” I hold my left arm out for her to wrap the cuff around. She gently taps my forearm, "Just relax your shoulder for me"

Once done she jots down my blood pressure and slides over in front of me on her rolling stool.

"Any concerns overall? I'm gonna ramble off what I'm looking at just so you're aware and we don't sit in silence. Feel free to ask questions, okay?"

"Okay" I can't help but smile back.

"I didn't see any masses or lesions...mobility and turgor is within normal limits...may I see your hands?"

When I lift them for her, she squeezes them in her own and looks at them.

"Uh no concerns, by the way." I answer her question from earlier.

"Good, capillary refill is less than two seconds bilaterally. Feel free to speak up if anything comes to mind while you're here. History of migraines or light sensitivity?"

"No."

She stands to allow her fingers to comb through my scalp and add pressure to different points around my head, "Let me know if you have any pain or discomfort from this."

"Alright" quite comfortable actually.

"Good, no signs of alopecia...no pain from palpation, the skull is normal cephalic and atraumatic. You wouldn't believe how many people have been hit in the head around here and did nothing about it until I notice" she checks things off on her clipboard before pulling out a small notecard, "now I'll check your vision acuity."

She holds it about a foot away from my face.

"Just cover one eye and read the bottom line for me."

"Four, two, six, seventy-nine.”

"Perfect, can you cover the other eye and read the line above backwards."

"Nine, three, seven, sixty-two, four."

"Perfect" she scribbles away and stands closer, "now what I'm gonna do is have my hands behind your head and then bring them into your field of view and I'd like you to let me know when you can see them, okay?"

"Yup." where do I look, I may burst into flames if we have to hold eye contact.

"Just look at my nose" she taps it and winks.

Easy now woman I am gay

She brings her hands behind my head and then forward at different heights.

"Which ones wiggling?" she asks after I've said I can see them.

"Your left." I smile.

"Good, one more time"

"Which ones wiggling?" she bites her lip as she smiles.

"Your right."

"Perfect. Visual fields are intact in all four quadrants. I'll just look at your eyes now."

Of course

"Your eyelids are without ptosis and under ectropion, the sclera are white without erythema, look up for me?" cupping my face she rests her thumbs on either side of my nose and lightly draws down my lower lid, "Conjunctiva are pink. Next I'll look at the lenses so just stare at the bridge of my nose."

She removes a small flashlight from the chest pocket, moves it from the side of my face to the front, and does the same on the other eye.

"Good, no opacities or crescentic shadows... corneal reflection is symmetrical bilaterally, keep staring at the bridge of my nose…" she puts a hand up to block one side of my face and shines the light on the uncovered eye before turning it off and holding it vertically in front of me, "…good now if I can have you stare at the tip of my penlight then focus on the back wall...now back to the penlight...and to the back wall...great."

Ellie stops to check a few more things off the paper.

"Now eyes still on the pen light and without moving your head follow it with your eyes" she moves it vertically, horizontally, closer, and farther, "great you can relax for me." she pats my knee.

Reaching around me she pull an instrument off the wall.

"Next is the ophthalmoscope -say that three times fast- I'm just gonna take a look in your eyes. You'll see a bit of light, okay?"

"Okay."

She smiles stepping closer, "I'll try to be quick. Pick a spot on the back wall for me, I'm just gonna brace your head." she tilts my head back slightly and lifts the skin of my brow before looking through the instrument. "Red reflex noted...okay and other side...again red reflex noted...great. Optic disc and optic cup visualized, clear borders, no AV nicking noted, and no papilledema...now for your ears."

She replaces the tool on the wall and takes down another.

"I'll check your auditory acuity this time. It’s not uncommon for people surrounded by ongoing, loud machinery daily to have slight hearing problems." she pulls the table forward, "I'll just stand behind you and whisper a series of numbers or letters and I need you to repeat them back to me."

"Okay."

"Can you plug your right ear for me," she stands at the corner of the table behind me and whispers, "B N 6."

"B N 6." I repeat.

"Perfect, and the other ear," she shifts to the other side, "L 5 9."

"L 5 9."

"Auditory acuity intact bilaterally, on inspection no obvious masses or lesions, let me know if you have any pain with this." she steps almost between my legs and feels behind and below my ears, then tugs on the cartilage and lobes.

"No pain."

"Good, now I'll just take a look inside," she sits beside me on the table, "tilt your head just slightly away from me, perfect...tympanic membrane visualized...without erythema."

She returns the instrument to the wall and stands in front of me again.

"Let me know if you have any pain with this as well." she presses the pads of her thumbs where my eyebrows meet the bridge of my nose and then along the top of my cheekbones, "How long have you been working here?"

"Four years."

"Wow, what is it you do?"

"I handle the manual machinery. Mostly glass and wood carving, woodworking."

"You're quite handy then?"

"I like to think so." I smile at the innuendo.

She tilts her head and smiles, "No pain on palpation of the frontal or maxillary sinuses...I'll check your lymph nodes so again let me know if you have any pain." Ellie places her fingertips between my jaw and ears, where my jaw meets my throat, on the underside of my jaw, and where my shoulders meet my neck, "Tilt your head to the side for me."

My eyes fall to her lips and lift to unintentionally meet hers.

"Hi" she giggles, continuing to press against the nape of my neck.

I gotta gay- go I gotta go,"Hi" I laugh nervously.

"Tilt to the other side for me please...good, now just push your shoulders forward and lift them towards your ears." She presses the space between my collar bones and neck. Having glanced at my cleavage she clears her throat, "Looks good- your lymph nodes. All non-palpable so I-I'll check your trachea."

Ellie clears her throat again and glides her forefinger and thumb down either side of my throat while resting her other hand on my shoulder.

"Trachea is midline without deviation...coming down off of the cricoid cartilage...tilt your head slightly forward...perfect...swallow for me...” her eyes meet mine this time, “Perfect."

I’m gonna need her to stop activating my praise kink.

She checks more things off, "I'll have a listen to your heart.” Ellie moves the stethoscope to different points on my chest, asking me to take deep breaths. There's a lapse in silence before she comments, "Is it the medical or me making your pulse run so fast?"

When I finally look at her, a cheeky smile is on her face. A nervous laugh leaves my lips again when the side of her hand grazes the top of my boob to place the stethoscope back over my heart.

"Definitely me," she smirks, "it may be beating faster than mine...stand up and turn around for me." she adds quietly.

How could I forget this part?

"Good. I'll just check your spine now. It's common for issues to come up in your line of work, with the being hunched over and constant heavy lifting. No scapula protrusions or torso shift...touch your toes for me."

Oh goody

"No abnormal protrusion of the ribs or spine...stand back up. I'll have to do a lung exam."

"Sure"

"Can I unclip this, briefly?" she asks quietly, resting her hand on the clasp of my bra, "I just have to feel your back muscles."

"Oh- yeah that's fine." I keep my arms at my sides so the cups and straps stay in place.

"Let me know if there's any pain or tenderness…" her hands add pressure going from my shoulder blades to the curve of my waist, "good...no abnormalities in the muscles surrounding the lungs...although you're a little tense." she says more to herself.

Her hands hold my waist just below my ribs.

"Deep breath in...and out...symmetrical lung expansion...I'm gonna have a listen to your lungs so hug yourself and lean forward a bit for me. Just take deep breaths through your mouth when you feel the stethoscope on your back, any lightheadedness just let me know." she presses the stethoscope at different points along either side of my spine and ribs.

The cold metal makes me hold my breath for a second but it's the hand delicately resting on my hip that has all my attention.

"Vesicular breathing heard in all lung fields, no adventitious breathing sounds." Her lips along my neck sent a shiver down my spine, "Perfect." her hold on my hip tightens when I arch into her. My breathing becomes staggered as she places the stethoscope on the table, “Are you sure?�� she slowly removes her gloves, giving me time to think- as if I need it.

I slip the straps off of my shoulder and plop it on the chair with the rest of my belongings. She comes to stand behind me and I turn my head to the side to nudge my nose against hers.

Ellie hesitates, "No one finds out about this."

Bringing my arms back to rest my hands on the sides of her thighs I promise, "I won't say a word."

Her wandering hands find my chest to take my breasts into her hands. Her lips glide across my shoulder then back up to my ear. Nothing is heard in the room aside from quiet gasps and the dirty sweet nothings she whispers in my ear. "I think I want to taste you first, I'm a bit impatient." Her hold on my breasts is released so she can unbuckle my shorts. Pulling them down over my hips and reaching around me to lay them over my bag.

How polite

She grips my shoulders to turn me around, trapping me between her and the side of the table. Finally bringing me into a searing kiss. Her palms find the back of my thighs to hoist me onto said table, hands settle on my knees eager to push them apart, "May I?"

I nod quickly.

Her lust filled gaze is trained between my legs, "All for me?"

I don’t get a chance to reply when Ellie pulls me closer to the edge. The anticipation building as she slowly removes my underwear. One hand goes back to my center while the other holds the back of my neck to bring my forehead to hers. The intimacy of the embrace earns a moan from me and a velvety laugh from her, "Does that feel good?"

I nod dumbly, overwhelmed by her fingers making languid circles over my clit.

She pulls her stool over with her foot and takes a seat. Trailing featherlight kisses from my knee to my inner thigh, skipping over where I need her most and kissing up the other leg. The sudden weakness makes me drop down onto my elbows. She spreads my lips with her hand and before I know what's happening, her tongue is on me. My body spasms at the attention, hips rolling to match her rhythm as I lay flat.

Her red hair flows over my stomach and I have to run my fingers through it. Brushing it out of her face so I can see her, holding it in my hand to encourage her, tensing when I can't take it anymore.

"Mhm, there you go..."

My back arches, "Oh fuck" I slap my hand over my mouth.

"Shhh” she smiles, “I know, baby, I know." Ellie takes hold of my hips to keep her mouth locked on my center while I writhe, "Mhm cum for me mhmm-"

My hips move on their own but she keeps pace, seeing through as the waves of my climax crash and crest. Once I calm down she stands and brings me towards her by my wrists. Wrapping my arms around her waist and cupping my face to bring me into a kiss, allowing me to taste myself.

"Were you watching me before you came in?" she asks, kissing along my jaw.

Embarrassment mixed with excitement has me admitting to it, "Yes."

"Bad girl...did you think about pulling my skirt up?"

"Yes…" I confess quietly.

"Do it." Still reeling from how soft her lips are, I take a moment to process her words. A smile graces her face as she steps to the side and bends over the examination table, "Well?"

Stepping down from the table, my legs and hands tremble as I reach out. Grazing against the back of her thigh at the hem of her skirt.

"It's easier if you're on your knees." she smirks, shifting her hips from side to side. The anticipation in her not so subtle request makes me realize how much she's enjoying this, too.

Dropping to my knees I reach up again to run my hands up the sides of Ellie's legs. Slowly pushing her skirt up, garters clipped to her tights come into view.

Am I dreaming?

Bringing my hands around to the front of her thighs, I brace myself in order to kiss the back of them softly. Flicking my tongue out ever so slightly before gently biting.

"Tease" Ellie let's out a breathy laugh.

I tug on the hem of her dress, "Can I take it off?"

She turns to face me, looking down at me as she unbuttons the top of the dress. Leaving the last few for me to do and allowing me to pull it down over her hips. "Is that better?" she asks stepping out of it.

"Much" I smile up at her.

She runs her thumb over my jaw and asks, "How do you want me?"

"C-can you sit on the table?"

She bends over to kiss me once more, "Keep looking at me like that and you can have whatever you want."

Resting my hand on her inner thigh I now press firmer kisses to her lower stomach until my hand reaches her covered center, where I placed an equally firm kiss over her clit.

After her hips buck ever so slightly, Ellie's fingers find their way into my hair but I don’t need any encouragement to remove the lace barrier. Once I do, a sharp tug at my roots pulls me up to her face for another deep kiss.

"The next time you come see me I won't even bother wearing anything under my dress" she said.

Fueled by her promise I duck my head to glide my tongue over her cleavage. Noticing the front clip I quickly unsnap it, freeing her breasts and earning a groan when I sweep across her hardened nipple. Making sure to pull it between my lips and teeth.

I kiss all the way down to her stomach, watching her muscles ripple as I slip lower. Her hand makes its way into my hair again, eyes close, breath spilling out in a heavy panting gasp. She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip when my tongue plunges inside her, soon replaced with two fingers. But there was no stopping the final moan when the burning rush of pleasure left her shaking.

Her thighs twitch from the continued penetration. I finally come up for air when Ellie pulls my head away and stills my wrist.

After a bliss filled laugh she brings my fingers to her mouth and cleans them. Drawing me even closer by wrapping her legs around my waist and pulling my arms around her once again. She kisses me slowly, sucking on my tongue as we part.

"I really hate to say it but we should probably finish your exam" she laughs, sitting up on her elbows, "you have anywhere to be after this?"

"I was gonna grab something to eat...seems I did anyway." I smile.

Her cheeks are tinted pink, breathing still evening out, "Seems you did. I know we skipped right to dessert- I told you I'm impatient, but do you wanna go grab some real food once we're done with this?" she motions towards her clipboard that holds the exam form.

"Sure." I nod excitedly.

Ellie laughs again, squishing my face, "We should probably get dressed then, huh?"

"That sounds like a good idea, I'm struggling to keep my eyes on your face." I smirk.

She rolls her eyes getting up, "I'm trying to do my job here."

"You've already done me so I guess that's fair." I sigh dramatically.

"Put some clothes on and stop giving me those eyes." she chuckles, pushing my discarded clothing against my chest.

[oscar-lettjohanssonloveme]

Murder On The Victorian Express (a lot of Sarah Paulson characters x reader)

a/n: its just the REVIEW of my next project- i guess the actually title should be “Lana Banana and Y/N are Dr. Watson and Sherlock between hot and criminal women” (coz the main ship is Lana Winters x Reader)

summary: obviously inspired by “Murder On The Orient Express” by Agatha Christie- The reader works as a detective and is on vacation with her girlfriend Lana on a victorian Express, which is run by Miss Venable. Everything's nice until one of the passengers, Pete Andrews, gets murdered. 

Here are our suspects:

1. Diane Sherman 

2. Mildred Ratched

3. Ally Mayfair-Richards

4. Tammy Robinson

5. Dr. Ellie Staple

6. Alice Macray

7. Miss Venable 

(8. Lana Winters..she is not a suspect, but definitely a character of this story)

(i dont know who’s the murderer right now lmao-)

as i said, just the review :)) the first chap will be online next week (at least i hope so fkfkkf)

••••••••••

You would have lied, if you said you never dreamed of such a case. The white alpine landscape, a train decorated in Victorian style, 7 dangerous women and a murder, that seemed insoluble.

You had expected to be able to go on vacation with your girlfriend on this express, but instead you had just been embroiled in another murdercase.

You expected to dream of the dreamy landscape of Europe, but instead you dreamed of thick, red blood dripping into the snow.

A murder, as perfect as it could be. A murder, as Agatha Christie once wrote. A murder, that every detective secretly dreamed of.

The loud knock of Miss Venable's cane interrupted your train of thought and reminded you why you were actually in her compartment, which was more or less her office.

"Miss Venable, do you know, that your express is filled with criminals?"

"Be brief, Miss Y / N, I don't have time for this. This train won't run by itself."

The voice of the woman in front of you was cold and brisk as always, but you had spoken to many figures in authority, in solving a case and you were able to deal with it.

"A mother, who poisoned her child. A doctor, who diagnosed and treated healthy people as sick. A fence, who was involved in a jewel robbery. A sadistic nurse and a senator, responsible for the murder of her own wife," you said theatrical and to be honest you had practiced the whole thing before, but as always you had forgotten someone.

"Oh and the nondescript housewife from St. Louis, of course, who's that innocent, that I'd almost class her as a prime suspect."

Of course, your eyes didn't miss the way Miss Venable's hands clenched aggressively around her cane when you mentioned Alice.

"I see Miss Winters did an excellent job with her research." The redhead growled angrily and leaned back in her chair.

"She did," you muttered with a loving smile.

"My girlfriend is like my Doctor Watson."

"Lovely", Miss Venable muttered annoyed and you would have loved to spit in her face for it, but instead you cleared your throat shortly before you continued.

"We have 7 suspects and nobody seems to know the murder victim, Pete Andrew, an elementary school teacher from washington, but still the killer is among us. We-"

"I think I misheard," Miss Venable interrupted and angrily tapped her cane on the wooden floor again.

"7 suspects?"

You nodded slowly and took your cup, filled with black tea, from the woman's desk again.

"Nobody saw you on the night of death, so you don't have a fixed alibi. And besides, my girlfriend found out some things about you, that could be important," you said and paused for a dramatic pause in which you took a sip of the warm tea.

"Except for my girlfriend, I have no one I can trust on this express. Each of the passengers, in my opinion, has the potential of a murderer. I expect every cooperation on your part, because I am solving this case only to save the reputation of your Express. That shit messes up my vacation too. "

Miss Venable nodded curtly.

"I am completely at your disposal."

You put the empty cup back on the table and gave the woman a bright smile.

"Alright," you said as you stood up and held out your hand to her.

The woman took it reluctantly and shook it after she got up.

"There's one more thing," Miss Venable mumbled, looking at you indecisively.

"Your girlfriend, Lana Winters, she is a journalist."

"I know," you said, still smiling.

"I don't want this tragedy to become public. My train is highly regarded in Europe and I want it to stay that way."

There was something threatening about the tone in her voice, and you didn't like it.

You shrugged and withdrew your hand.

"I can't forbid my girlfriend to write," you said and walked to the large ebony door.

"But she is fair and as I told you, Miss Venable, if you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear."

[duchessfics]

...Hey 😅 Long time no post. I wanted my first post to be a fic, but tbh a lot has happened in my life since January and I’m still trying to sort things out. I’m sorry if that disappoints you and understand your frustration at the lack of content. But I want to put out things I’m proud of and I need more time.

I did think about something that would be fun although I don’t know if anyone would be interested. I’m not sure if people still do this, but I remember there were certain blogs where if you send a little about yourself they’ll ship you with a certain character in a fandom. So I thought I could do that with Sarah Paulson characters. If you are interested in that sort of thing I’ll open up the submit a post feature so your entry can be longer. And here are just a couple of helpful hints to get more specific results:

Include hobbies/interests, hopes for the future, small quirks you have, favorite things (food, drinks, animals, etc.)

If you feel comfortable describe yourself a little. But don’t share private info or anything you aren’t comfortable with. This is only for fun so if you just want a general ship that’s fine. It’s only if you want to describe for example your eye color, hair color, distinctive features, etc. But within your comfort zone.

And finally if you would like NSFW aspects please clarify in your submission. My assumption will be that unless explicitly stated otherwise the description will be sfw.

If that interests you please feel free to interact. I have missed interacting on here and if I haven’t responded know I’ve read your kind words and it means a lot. Sending lots of love to you all 💖

[loverofallthingssarah]

If Flames Could Talk

Ellie Staple x reader

Part 1

Synopsis: Reader has been accused of arson which resulted in a injury. She gets sent to a psychiatric hospital and is assigned to Ellie as a patient. Immediate attraction on Ellie’s side while reader not allowing herself to be attracted because of her hatred for being stuck there. Ellie can’t act on attraction but does she?

Warning: nothing in this chapter

Word Count: 900+

Part 2 Part 3

A/N: I don't know if my updates for this series will be as quickly as I had for If not now, when? just because my ideas for this fic aren't set in stone yet.

The circumstances that landed you into the hardships you were now facing were hazy and unclear. You couldn’t remember anything about that night, and that is a huge part of the reason why you’re in the predicament you’re in. No one saw it coming. If anyone was to describe you, it would not be a pyromaniac, arsonist, murderer, and well, that’s because you weren’t. You were a goody two shoes, straight A, rule following girl. The most out of character you’ve been in your whole life was when you came out two years ago. It was shocking to some, but that’s it. It was nowhere near the shock that shook the town when you were being pulled out of your house by police accusing you of arson and the bodily injury of a fellow classmate. Not exactly a great end to your twentieth birthday.

Since you were so young, the judge was a little more “lenient” on your sentence, if you could even call it that. How were you ever convicted since you were innocent? Over circumstantial evidence and an “eye witness” testimony from the girl who has hated your guts since the fourth grade, Andrea. If Lisa was awake and lucid to tell what happened that night, you might be free right now, but you have hope she wakes up from her coma. If only you had a clear cut alibi for that night. There were so many what ifs but nothing that kept you from getting the sentence you faced. Instead of sending you to prison for the alleged crime you did not commit off of proof they did not find, you were being sent to a psychiatric facility for treatment.

Now, you were being transported in a heavily guarded bus to the new home, Allentown State Hospital. As soon as the bus pulls up in front of the building, you shudder at the fact this will be your new home for the next however many years your assigned psychiatrist decides to keep you here. The officer beside you gets up and opens the door before he motions for you to get out. Which is a nearly impossible task considering your hands and feet are shackled together. The officer starts to get impatient while you struggle to get your footing to make it off the bus, “Hurry up, Miss L/n!”

“I’m sure you can see it’s a little hard for me to do at the moment, but since you’re clearly not going to help me, I think I’ll take my time,” you force out with all the pent of rage brewing inside you about your current predicament. He just rolls his eyes as you finally make it off the bus.

Two nurses come out of the front doors and lead you both inside. One nurse leads you to an empty room while the other leads the officer to the front desk to sign your life away. Once the proper paperwork is filled out that you made it safely to the hospital, you are finally released from your cuffs and led to a room. A little empty shell of a room, as the nurse goes over the many rules and procedures there to be followed, you zone out thinking about the next months or even years you'll be here under the watchful eyes in this hospital. This hospital is full of people with whom you don’t belong; you were not criminally insane. But they will keep you here until they deem it fit for you to return to society or if you, in your hopes, are finally brought to justice, “Miss Y/n, are you listening?”

You don’t reply but simply nod as she continues, “We will let you get settled in your room, which will be locked when you are alone. I’ll be back in an hour to bring you to your first therapy session with Dr. Staple. Once that is over, you will be returned to your room to have dinner and then brought to the community room before bedtime.”

Staring out of the bar-clad windows, you get lost in space of the neverending spiral of your mind. You can’t seem to concentrate on anything at the moment except for badly you want to be home in your bed. Living your life the way it was before, but instead, you are here stuck in a nightmare you just won’t wake up from.

It only seems like seconds have flown by before you realize that the same nurse who locked you in this room is now back to take you out, “It’s time for your first session with Dr. Staple.”

She leads you to the other side of the hospital to an office belonging to your new doctor, the one who held the metaphorical key to your release. The nurse knocks on the door, and you hear a soft “come in” from the other side of the door. The nurse beckons you in the office, “Dr. Staple, this is your new patient, Miss L/N.”

My eyes connect with a pair of inquisitive brown ones as I sit down in a seat across from her desk. She has flaming red hair that frames her soft, almost welcoming face. She is gorgeous. Under any other circumstances, you knew you would be instantly smitten with her, but the anger of being trapped in this hell hole bubbles as you hear, “Miss L/n, let’s begin.”

Sfw taglist: @l0verssr0ck @rainbow-hedgehog @twistedpoeticjustice @dreamer-queen @kais-rose-garden @peggycarter-steverogers @magnificent-paulsonn @mrsdeanhoward @citizenoftheworld-stuff-blog @commanderspeach @in-cordelias-coven @lntlmate