#every time I've opened it this week I've seen That girl whose life is just going perfectly and I'm sick of seeing that face and name

[la-cocotte-de-paris]

I am this 🤏 close to uninstalling instagram

[prettynice8]

My Bodyguard Part 1

Jeon Jungkook x male reader, haters to lovers?

This wonderful man

Stuff: fluff, angst, this whole thing is just a buildup to Part 2.

Word Count: 1,501

Notes: I was inspired by ai. Fun fact, Jungkook is by bias so that's fun.

Fucking great, Jungkook has to guard another prissy little girl who has never faced any kind of troubles in her entire life. Some rich bitch who doesn't even need a bodyguard and yet here he is, practically wasting his time.

This wasn't his first rodeo, though he was at the young age of 26, he's seen a lot of shit. A lot of annoying, prissy, useless, and rage inducing girls who always try to have their way with him. He's never given in though, not very hard to do when they're all, well, girls.

Jungkook nearly dreaded when your father finally led him to your room. He desperately wanted to leave and quit this job forever, but it would be a waste of all the training he has had to endure over the years, so he stayed his ground, expecting the worst.

As the door opened, Jungkook was greeted by an enormous room full of personality. The walls were covered in various posters, stuffed animals and dolls littered the room. It was a little different than the rooms he'd been in before, but that doesn't mean anything. You're probably just as spoiled as all the other girls he's had to guard.

"She's just another spoiled rich girl." He whispered under his breath.

"Well for starters, she's a he." You stated, Jungkook was incredibly surprised, he did not expect you to actually hear him, most of the others don't give a shit about what he has to say.

"O-oh dear I'm so sorry." He apologized, trying to cover up his mistake. He looked at you, and you were in fact a boy, a pretty cute one at that.

Your father was long gone by now, leaving just you and Jungkook to awkwardly talk.

"So, what's your name?" He asked, trying to be friendly.

"You're supposed to be my bodyguard and you don't even know my name." You said, sass apparent in your voice. "Well, I feel like I'm in safe care."

He completely forgot what your name was, the person whose life is technically supposed to be in his hands, and he was so caught up in dreading seeing you that he didn't take the time to see what your name even was. Fuck did he hate this job.

"It's y/n." You stated coldly, already questioning this man's competence. "And yours?"

"My what?" He questioned back.

"Your name dip shit." You answered, not having it right now.

Jungkook was taken back, people never ask what his name is, though you could've been a little nicer about it.

"It's Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook." He replied, a smile making its way on his face.

"You also didn't even know my gender, god you suck at this." You stated flatly, not impressed by whatsoever.

His smile was crushed, your words feeling like poison each time you talk.

"You really are like all the other rich bitches I've had to deal with." Jungkook complained, growing tired of your behavior.

"You don't even know me." You exclaimed, growing equally tired of him.

"I know enough." He stated coldly before leaving your room, leaving you to stare daggers at the door.

That was your guy's impression of each other, minor disdain. He hated how you seemed like every other shit head he's had to deal with, and you hated him because he just assumes shit about you, he also kind of sucks at his job, where did your dad even find this guy.

Though you both kind of hated each other, he had to be around you. All. The. Time. No matter where you were, eating, in the bathroom, even sleeping, he was right there or just right outside the door. You both haven't said a word to each other since your first meeting, and you both hope to keep it that way.

"Why do you hate me?" You asked flatly while eating your dinner, finally breaking the weeks-long silence between the two of you. Also no one else was there so this seemed like the best moment.

"Why does it matter to you?" He questioned right back, hoping to prolong the silence.

"Because I don't want the person who's supposed to save my life to dislike me, but more importantly I feel like you have no reason to dislike me the way you do." You responded, arms crossed over your chest.

"No reason! I have every reason to hate you! The moment I got here you greeted me with disrespect! Your so fucking stand offish and it's clear that you have no idea what the real world is like, able to be in your fucking mansion and eat your fucking food while I'm in a job that I hate, having to be around clueless people I hate, like you!" He shouted at you, every word hitting like a bullet.

You just stood there in silence watching each other, tears daring to come out of your eyes. He stares at you heavily breathing, too angry to realize your sad state.

"You don't know anything about me." Was all you said before the tears fell down your face like a waterfall. You stormed out of the dining hall and into your room, leaving Jungkook standing there alone, feeling like an idiot, which he was.

He finally got the courage to walk up to your room. Knocking on the door to see if you're okay. Hearing nothing but your sobs, he took the liberty of opening the door. He was greeted with the sight of you sitting on your bed, curled up and crying into your legs.

"Go away, it's not like you actually care about me." You ordered, not wanting to see the face of the man that made you an emotional wreck.

Jungkook just stood there, so he just sat next to you and awkwardly patted your back.

"I-i'm sorry I said those things, it wasn't fair, I really don't know anything about you, except that you're pretty when you cry." He said with that charming smile, causing you to laugh.

"I'm always pretty." You replied, wiping the tears from your face.

"Can't argue with that." He said, causing you to laugh more.

Since that interaction, things between the two of you have been lovely. There was no ill will anymore and you might even say the two of you were friends.

"Why do you always just stand there and watch me eat, sit down, there's plenty." You ordered, Jungkook was taken back by this act of kindness, though it wasn't a big deal, it surely felt like it was. He took the seat right next to you and started to dig in.

"When do you eat anyways?" You asked.

"When you go to your room, or when there's off time." He answered.

"Well, you're always welcome to eat here with me." You stated. "Do you have any hobbies; it seems like you're always just around me?" You asked another question. Finally wondering what he does when not around you.

"Mostly work out." He answered quickly, enamored by the taste of the food.

"I can see that." You said, but then suddenly stunned with your own words. Jungkook almost chokes on his food, also surprised by your flattery.

"I-i mean y-you're like objectively built." You stuttered, digging your own grave deeper and deeper. He starts laughing at your nervousness.

"Thank you. I try." He said, the rest of the dinner goes smoothly, though your words still hang in the air.

Once you both finish the meal, you two walk to your room, talking along the way.

"Wanna come in?" You offered when you got to the door of your bedroom.

"I'd love to." He eagerly answered, a little too eager.

You both take a seat on your large bed. You lay on the pillows while Jungkook awkwardly sits on the edge. He looks around the room, never actually getting a very detailed look. It's incredibly big, almost the size of an apartment. There's even a balcony that leads to a gorgeous view of the ocean, looking especially incredible because of the sunset.

He gets up to get a closer look at it, making his way to the balcony. You realize this and get up to chase after him.

"Pretty great huh?" You ask rhetorically, already knowing the answer. He just nods in agreement, totally dumbfounded by the amazing view. The way the water reflects all of the colors makes it all the more vibrant. The pinks, reds, oranges, and yellows mix together beautifully. This has to be the most wonderful sight of his life, almost magical. Though he's pulled away by the sight of you.

Your equal fascination with the view that you've had to have seen so many times before is enchanting. The way your face lights up and how your hair is carried in the wind is to the sunset like the Mona Lisa to a child's macaroni art. Finally, he realizes that all other beauty in the world is utterly and totally dwarfed by yours.

wait for part 2.

[lokis-army-77]

Notes

Robin Buckley x female reader

Word Count: 1319

The reader is part of the more popular crowd. She has been slipping short love letters into Robin Buckley's locker for the past few months, then one day she receives her own.

Warning: Fluff, talk of family and friends in the 80s not really liking anyone who likes the same sex.

I'm so sorry if this is awful, I literally rewrote this five times because I had no clue where I was going with this ask.

Masterlist (Taglist linked here)

The Hawkins High School hallways were practically empty as I looked around me cautiously. I opened my locker and quickly grabbed my backpack and the English textbook I needed for homework. With another glance over my shoulders, I opened the textbook to the first page where I had stashed a folded piece of paper. Smiling down at it I felt my face heat up.

I had been placing these short love letters into the locker next to mine for around three months now and the girl who was receiving them was none the wiser. She had no clue who it was and even though she didn't know it was my feeling being laid out on those pages, I was relieved because no one knew my secret.

She was almost my complete opposite socially. Band geek who was too shy to come out of her shell around people she didn't know. She hung out with people around School I never would be allowed to. Meanwhile, I was friends with the most popular people in Hawkins. With parents who were among the most wealthy in town, I had never had to try too hard at anything, people flocked to me and most probably weren't even my true friends. 

She was cute with her short light brown/dirty blonde hair and the baggy sweaters and jackets she wore. Every Time I saw her I'm sure my face went completely red. 

Robin Buckley was my crush and I was too scared to tell her to her face. 

Liking girls was never something that came up in conversation with the more popular side of Hawkins High, it was always boys, what sports game was going on that week, and if anyone was hosting a party that weekend. 

I couldn't tell my friends anyway. The information would somehow get back to my family and I'd be disowned, cut off, and thrown away. I had seen it happen to my uncle Thomas a few years back when he said something about a boyfriend at a family Christmas. I've never heard from him since. 

I was taking a big risk even writing these letters to Robin and stuffing them through the vents in her locker. If anyone found out I liked her and not some overly egotistical basketball or football player, my life as I know it would be over in a flash. 

Stepping back from my locker and closing it shut, I made sure none of the three people in the hall were watching me as I carefully stuffed the note away into Robin's locker. 

…

The next day I spotted Robin with Nancy Wheeler, chatting at the lunch table right next to mine. They were looking at something and when I got closer, I realized it was my note.

"I don't know Nancy, I just wish I knew who she was." Sighed Robin.

I kept listening to their conversation as I sat down with my lunch. 

"I know you do Rob, but maybe she's coming from a place that won't allow her to openly admit any of this," Nancy spoke. I nodded along to what she was saying, knowing she was right.

"I get that, I really do, I'd just like a hint as to who she is. You said the handwriting looked familiar, are you sure you can't pinpoint whose it is?"

My eyes when wide. My handwriting. Shit, I didn't think of that. I never interact with Robin ever so I never thought that the recognition of my handwriting would ever be something that would happen. But Nancy? I worked with her on the school paper, and she definitely knew what it looked like. 

In my shock and surprise, I let their conversation slip away. I wanted Robin to know that it was me who liked her but at the same time, I didn't. Worry surged through me at the thought of the whole school somehow finding out my secret. 

I just breathed. If I just didn't let Nancy see anything I had written physically, I should be fine. Most of the work we have to do on paper is typed and printed anyway. 

….. 

The next week passed by and still Robin hadn't a clue who I was. I had placed my letters in her locker like always. That was until I opened my locker Friday afternoon and a note fell to the floor at my feet. 

Curiously, I picked it up and unfolded the lined paper to reveal scratchy handwriting. 

Hi. I'm so awkward at this but I hope you don't mind. Thank you for all of your notes. I was actually really surprised to learn that it was you writing them, I've kinda had a crush on you since seventh grade. I can't tell you how nice it was to read your thoughts about me and I just want you to know that I feel the exact same way. I'm bummed that it took me this long to figure out it was you, I guess I have Nancy to thank for that one. After school, I'll be at the swing set at the middle school if you want to stop by…

-Robin

Holy shit. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. My heart pounded as I read and reread the note, eyes bulging at the name scrawled out at the bottom. My hands trembled at the thought of walking out the double doors of the school and heading to the playground. What is someone saw? What would happen? I was nervous and a bit scared and the thought of not going did cross my mind but the thought of Robin waiting and me never showing up churned my stomach. 

After a few deep, calming breaths, I packed up my things, folded up Robin’s note, and headed out of the building. The parking lot was almost completely empty and no one crossed my path as I made the trek up the small hill to the middle school.

Turning the corner around the building, I could see Robin sitting and swinging quietly, back facing me. She turned quickly when the sounds of my footsteps on the gravel reached her. 

Her face brightened when she saw me and the smile she had made my knees go weak. 

“Hi.” I waived.

“Hi.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m just like, really nervous.” I laughed and wrung my hands together. 

“You, nervous?” She asked. “I’m the one who should be nervous, the most popular girl in school actually likes me.” 

I took the last few remaining steps toward the empty swing beside her and sat. 

“Thank you.” She reached her hand out to me, placing it on my knee. I watched her with wide eyes. “I actually really enjoyed reading those notes.” 

I smiled. “Yeah? They were the only why I thought I could talk to you. The only way I knew how to tell you my feelings without letting everyone know. Liking girls isn’t something my friends or family are okay with.” 

“I know what you mean.” Her hand came to rest on mine. She pulled back slightly when my eyes snapped from her face to my lap. “Sorry, was that too bold of a move?” 

“No.” I moved to grab her hand again, bringing it back to my lap, and intertwining our fingers. “I liked it.” 

“Do you think maybe you would like to hang out sometime? I mean it’s perfectly fine if you don’t want to, it's just that I think it would be really great and I would love to spend some time with you.” She began to ramble on and I squeezed her hand, calling out her name. She stopped and looked up sheepishly. “Sorry, I spew words when I get nervous.”

“We can totally hang out. I’m free tomorrow, my parents are on their monthly business trip, so you can come to mine if you want.” 

“Definitely.” 

“Then it's a date.” I smiled at her.

[jenroses]

I flounder at the conundrum we live in right now. I'm 51, and grew up doing EVERYTHING, like my parents were young and I had so many ridiculous lessons and they built a family kayak at home and we went fishing on the regular and then camped across the country for a month. I had girl scouts and piano lessons and we moved when I was a kid to a small bit of acreage where I had a horse and we planted an acre of tomatoes and raised animals and we kept a sourdough starter alive for years.

In my life I have helped start multiple things which thrived for a while and then failed later, after I'd moved on. I've traveled and tried new foods and at one point I knew that almost anywhere I could possibly go I could probably find a friend to crash with because there were that many connections to be made.

And in 2019 we took our 7 year old child to Dublin. He got to try new things and met new people and see places he hadn't seen before.

I used to be the parent whose house was always open--my eldest is 30 and for a long time my house was "Jen's home for wayward queer youth" to quote one such youth, where their friends would come and sometimes stay for a while. The space in my heart wants to say "there is always room for one more."

But I'm immune compromised. And the pandemic. And our lives have narrowed to the point where I can't risk air travel.

And my son has to ask if he can bring a friend over in advance because some days I absolutely cannot cope with the sensory issues of wearing a mask in my house, the logistics of figuring out food around having someone in our space. I can't invite his friend to stay for dinner though in the past I would have in a heartbeat because there was always room for one more...

But yes, everywhere is somewhere and everyone is someone and every car you pass on the road has someone with an entire existence and set of motivations and the plot of their own story and it is sad to me that the more connected we become, the more isolated we get.

My youngest will probably not be able to just spend weeks at a time shuffling between our house and his best friend's house the way I did when I was a kid.

At age 11 I was riding a horse around our neighborhood completely unsupervised. For him at 11 we're waiting for summer for me to maybe, at last, see if I can overcome the executive function barriers (mine) to teach him to ride a bike.

We realized in the shoe store the other day that he'd never actually learned to tie his shoes because he's never had tie shoes. So I taught him, then and there. And then the salesperson brought over little doohickies that slide up and down the laces and negate the need for bows. Which is safer, really, but...

My eldest drives stick. My youngest probably never will. They're 18 years apart in age.

The notes on a recent post got me thinking

By nature, I’m a fan of having 2 beers and meeting strangers at a bar somewhere you’ve never been, which is a thing that we don’t do in 2023 between COVID and being afraid of one another because of the prevalence of gun violence and regular violence and misdirected road rage and the million other little deadly social erosions of the past 10 years or so.

You have got to let go of this idea that any place is a complete nothing-burger full of nothing-people.

You have to.

Its vitally important that you navigate that airport with a stranger in Denver and realize he’s got a tattoo of lyrics from your favorite song. To sing House of the Rising Sun with four people you’ve known for 2 hours (and somehow managed to get into the DNCs private bar with) in the back of an Uber in DC when it’s pissing rain and entirely too cold for your southern blood. It’s important to cooperate and solve problems together and go about it laughing and singing. We are silly little creatures that love a puzzle and a story.

It’s also important to flee a tornado in the back of a shitty red pickup at pride in Oklahoma City and feel the sky break wide-open against the lazy /tick-lok/ /tick-lok/ of the windshield wipers while racing down what once was Rte 66. Its important to know that in the face of creeping fascism that place, of all places, has entire gay neighborhoods. It’s important to wake up in an apartment high, high up in NYC and watch the sun through the buildings and boulevards and watch the glorious great goddamn of that impossible number of people all cooperating and all not. To say Hyoo-stun, that way, on purpose just to get a rise of your born and bred NY friend who does NOT think you’re funny but will make coffee for you.

You need to see a beach full of people cautiously approaching and flinching away from a floating, dead horseshoe crab on Tybee Island, Georgia the way any troupe of wild animals approaches an unknown alien thing. Cows in a field, fish in the ocean flinching from a diver. Little children squealing and wide eyed behind their parents legs. You need to be the person that walks out and picks it up and watches the rest of the crowd creep in to investigate.

I don’t get to travel a lot in the way that most people do, when I go to a place it’s usually because something bad has happened there, but I have found it universally true that most people just want to tell you a story or show you a picture on their phone of the craziest thing they’ve ever seen and they don’t particularly care who you are or what your accent is. Sometimes they do, and those people suck, but those people are not the majority.

Sometimes if you let an old redneck talk he’ll tell you everything you never wanted to know about forensic accounting. Sometimes you’ll meet someone in the middle of the biggest city in the US who knows everything about show pigs. I’ve been to the smallest Kansas towns and the biggest cities in the US and I’ve found none of them were full of nothing.

[loverhymeswith]

For the follower celebration, how about Rooster, mutual pining, fluff, and coffeeshop 💖

Beautiful Stranger

Follower Celebration

Pairing: Rooster x G/N!Barista!Reader

Summary: Just a fluffy drabble set after the events of TGM...

Word Count: 663 words

A/N: Thank you for the request @a-reader-and-a-writer 💖 This is my first time writing for Rooster so I hope I've done him justice!

You spot him through the window, the magnetic pull of his familiar figure tearing your attention away from the cash register, but it takes a beat for you to realise it's him.

Tall, dark and handsome, like a Hollywood star of old, he'd captured your attention from the first moment you laid eyes on him across the counter. In a husky baritone he'd asked for his coffee black with extra sugar, and from that morning onwards he kept coming back for more.

Until one day, he didn't.

Weeks, maybe even months have gone by since you last saw the beautiful stranger. You'd stopped looking out for him, unable to bear the pang of disappointment in your chest every morning that he didn't show. It made no sense. How a man whose name you didn't even know could occupy so much of your thoughts.

The door swings open and the shrill chiming of the bell snaps you out of your reverie. It's likely just your imagination but the crowd seems to part for him, faces and furniture blurring into the background as he strides towards the counter.

He seems taller. More confident – as if a weight has been lifted from his broad shoulders. His deep brown eyes twinkle as he greets you, a soft smile blossoming across his face. "Hey, can I get the usual, please?"

Robbed of the ability to speak by his unexpected return, you simply nod and turn away to prepare his order, ignoring the fluttering in your stomach. Are you supposed to act as if he hasn't been gone all this time?

As his barista, it's hardly your place to comment. Even if there had been a time before his absence when you'd dreamt of the possibility of becoming more.

Curiosity eventually gets the better of you when you slide the coffee cup towards him, your filter dissolving under the weight of his friendly gaze. "Haven't seen you around for a while."

***

Bradley doesn't even like coffee. He only stumbled in one morning in search of a pick-me-up after a particularly rough night. But one bright-eyed smile from the angel behind the counter had been enough to bring him back the next day, and the day after that…

Momentarily taken aback by your perfectly justified comment, he rubs a hand across the back of his neck and averts his gaze, eyes dropping to the shiny plastic name badge pinned to your apron. A familiar rush of warmth spreads through his chest. He's home. "Yeah. Guess you could say I've been a bit busy."

Busy might be the understatement of the century, but he doesn't want to trouble you with the details. You're practically strangers, after all. Even if his mind did wander to you during the long hours of training, and again when he feared that all hope was lost.

The others had asked if he had someone back home – a girl, or a guy. He'd shaken his head and changed the subject, but in the privacy of his quarters he'd whispered your name, trying it out for size. He likes the way it rolls off his tongue.

"You were here every day and then… nothing," you continue hesitantly. "I thought you might have moved away."

"Without saying goodbye?" Bradley frowns, fishing out a handful of crumpled dollar bills. "I wouldn't do that."

You offer him a shy smile, fingers brushing his own as you hand over the change. "Well, it's good to see you again."

Bradley knows better than most how fleeting life can be, and now that he’s had his own brush with death, he doesn't want to waste another moment wondering "what if". Even if this is a thousand times more nerve-wracking than climbing into the cockpit of his F/A-18.

"Can I get you anything else?" you ask politely, and he realises it's now or never.

"Actually, yeah. I wanted to let you know I'm gonna be sticking around. Maybe I could take you out sometime?"

[fentibeauty]

a night to remember.

rue bennett x black fem! reader

mentions of drugs, death, and mature scenes.

word count: 3.1k

Kennedy walked into the party high out of her mind. It was New Year. She told herself she wouldn't do any more drugs for the new year. She was doing fairly well until a mishap happened a week prior and she relapsed.

It felt like she was walking upside down.

Even though she felt like she was floating, she wanted more drugs. She dragged her body against the wall and watched as the teenagers whose heads were off their bodies to her, jump up and down at the music.

She stumbled across a room that was empty. She pulled herself in there and locked the door. (so she thought) and took out her small stash of drugs. She pulled out a couple of Xanax. She laid out a paper towel and laid the pills on top and used her phone to crush them.

As she bent down to snort them, the door opened. She looked up to see a light-skin curly head who quickly disappeared saying a light sorry. Kennedy shrugged, she could've sworn she locked the door but oh well.

As she bent down again the door opened, the same girl appearing. She had a smug look on her face, "What are you doing."

Kennedy snorted the power before looking back at the girl. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"If you tell me what drugs you're doing, I'll do the same." The smug look stayed on her face. Kennedy thought

about it for a minute, she shrugged. "Sure. Lock the door." Rue quickly closed the door and locked it. She walked closer to Kennedy, "What you snorting?"

"Xanax."

"You look out of it already." The girl chuckled. "That's because I am." She bent down and snort another line. "What's your name?" Kennedy asked. "Rue. Yours?"

"Kennedy but call me Kenn." Rue nodded. She slid down the wall to sit on the floor. "You smoke weed?" Rue asked and Kennedy sat down beside her. "Do I? I love weed. You got some?"

"Hell yeah I do, you know how to roll?" Rue asked.

"Don't tell me you have weed on you but don't know how to roll." Kennedy laughed, "Give it here." Rue laughed and got the weed from her pocket. "My dealer usually always rolled it for me but he stopped giving me shit so yeah."

"So where did you get this from?" Kennedy asked expecting the weed. "I stole it from him." Rue laughed. Kennedy shook her head and started to roll the weed. Rue watched her every mood and then pulled out the lighter. Kennedy put it to her mouth and Rue lit it. Kennedy took a big inhale and passed the blunt to Rue, the smoke came out through Kennedy's nose.

"So, if you don't mind. How long you been a druggie?" Kennedy asked. That question took Rue by surprise causing her to cough slightly as the smoke came out of her mouth. "Damn, my bad." Kennedy laughed.

"You're good. It just took me by surprise, I've been doing drugs since I was 14."

"How old are you now?" Kennedy wondered. "I'm 17." Rue said before taking another inhale and passing it back to Kennedy. "What about you?"

"Well, the first time I ever did something is when I was 12. I smoked weed. Didn't really do anything bad until I was 15 and I'm 18 now." Rue nodded. "What made you do drugs?" Kennedy followed up.

Rue got the blunt back, "My dad got really sick, I used to help take care of him and there were so many pills available to me so, one day I was curious and I popped it down and didn't stop ever since. It got worse when he died so." Rue blew the smoke out, "I'm sorry man." Rue shook it off, "It's okay, 'cause to be honest even if he were here I would've still been the person I was today."

"I was around drugs my whole life. My mom was a whole crackhead but thank god she started after she had me or I would've been missing a few limbs." They both laughed. "I've seen all types of drugs man."

"You ever tried Fentanyl?" Rue asked and Kennedy looked at her like she was crazy. "Hell no, I'm not trying to kill myself that easily. That shit is mad dangerous, it could kill you in less than an hour... Have you?!"

Rue laughed, "I have once, but It wasn't on purpose, my used-to-be dealer had this creepy dude named Mouse come with it and he made me take it. I did what he wanted because he was scary as fuck." Rue laughed, "That was the best high I ever had but I won't try that shit again." Kennedy scoffed, "You are something else, Rue Rue."

"I know, I know."

The two strangers got to know each other more and more as time went on and they finally got up and left the party as it ended. They were now walking down an alleyway, high as a kite.

"You wanna know something, Rue Rue?" Kennedy asked, becoming comfortable with the girl. Rue was becoming comfortable with her and enjoying the nickname she gave her.

"Yeah, what?"

"I was actually clean for 60 days before I relapsed." Rue looked at Kennedy. "What made you relapse?" Kennedy relapsed. "I had a girlfriend, Briana. She left me." Rue stopped which made Kennedy stop. "Why'd you stop? Everything good?"

"Yeah, everything is fine. Keep going." What Kennedy said triggered a memory back into Rue's head. The remembrance of her relapse when her girlfriend, Jules left her while she was at her lowest. "She just up and left me, without an explanation. I woke up and I was blocked on everything. I later found out she found someone else, someone better."

"I was doing better just for her.. and she up and fucking left. That triggered everything inside of me and I relapsed. I was mad at myself because I was doing so good but when I did it once I realized how much my body missed it and I went back to doing it every day."

"You wanna know something, Kenn?" Rue asked. Kennedy looked at the taller girl and nodded. "That's exactly what happened to me. I had a girlfriend, Jules. I thought she was the love of my fucking life. We did a lot together and I loved being with her. She was the only thing that made me not want to do drugs and to better myself and I was actually doing that for her and then one day we planned to go somewhere but I backed out last minute. I thought she would've stayed with me but she didn't, I watched her as she got on that fucking train and leave me with no damn regrets. It wasn't even her leaving that made me so upset. It was the fact that not once when she was down there did she think to text or call me, check up on me. None of that. That's when I relapsed." Rue confessed.

Kennedy gave Rue a sad smile she grabbed her hand and rubbed it in assurance before speaking. "I'm sorry, Rue Rue. You didn't deserve that. You're a nice person. Fuck her for that." They both laughed at the last part.

"I saw her before I walked in on you. She looks like she's doing just fine without me so." Rue shrugged, "I guess I'm going to be fine without her too."

"That's the spirit, Rue Rue." Kennedy patted her back. Rue gave her a genuine smile. They began walking again and Rue noticed that Kennedy was shivering. Rue instantly took off her Burgundy jacket and wrapped it around Kennedy. She looked up at Rue and gave her a sweet smile. "Thank you, Rue Rue."

"I don't wanna go home tonight, can I stay with you tonight?" Kennedy quickly nodded her head. "Of course, I didn't wanna be alone anyway."

"You live alone?" Rue asked.

"No—Yes. It's complicated. My mom lives with me kinda. She stops by twice a week to drop me off money, god only knows where she got it from. Then she leaves. Sometimes she stays the night for 'quality time'." She shrugged.

"Oh."

"Yeah.. My house isn't too far let's hurry." They picked up their pace and made it to Kennedy's house in 10 minutes. She got her key and unlocked the door.

"Sorry if it's messy. I try to tidy up every day but I got lazy today." She chuckled.

The house was very nice and tidy. It smelled like cherry blossoms. "Your house is pretty." Kennedy smiled. "Thank you." Kennedy locked her front door back. "My room is down here." She led Rue down the hallway.

"I have clothes for you. If you want to take a shower. There are two showers so you can wash in here and I'll go in the other room." Kennedy walked into the closet and brought out clothes for both of them. "The towels are in there. Extra toothbrushes in the cabinet. I'll be back." She gave a smile before leaving the room.

Rue walked into the bathroom that was connected to her room. She looked into the mirror and smiled. Another level of happiness entered her body as soon as she met Kennedy. She had someone she could finally relate to.

Someone who finally gets her.

It has only been 5 hours since they met but Rue felt like she's known her for so much longer than that. Rue ran the shower, waited for it to warm up, and took off her clothes.

She stepped in and let the water run through her face. Another smile crept onto her face. Kennedy kept circling her mind.

It was the same for Kennedy. Rue was different, her emotions felt genuine and Kennedy hasn't felt that in a long time.

Rue stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel around her tall body. She got the new toothbrush and took it out of the package.

She brushed her teeth and dried off. She put clothes on and got her dirty clothes and walked out of the bathroom. She jump slightly as Kennedy was already in bed.

"Sorry I startled you." She giggled, "You can put the dirty stuff right there. I'll wash it for you tomorrow morning." She said and Rue nodded.

"Woah where are you going?" Kennedy asked as she saw Rue about to leave the room. "To bed." She laughed. "Sleep with me, Rue Rue. This is a king bed, we both have plenty of room."

Rue laughed and walked to the bed and climbed in, Kennedy turned on her side to look at Rue. "Did you have a nice shower?" Kennedy asked. "Yes, I did. You?"

"It was fantastic." She laughed.

It was quiet for a bit before Kennedy spoke up again. "Rue Rue?" She called out. "Yeah?" She responded. "Can we cuddle? I'm cold." Rue looked at her and smiled, "Of course, we can."

Kennedy got closer to Rue and laid her head on her chest and Rue wrapped her arms around her. "You're warming me up already." She mumbled, she felt Rue's body move as she let out a chuckle.

They were quiet for about 10 minutes, just enjoying being in each other's arms. "I just wanna thank the universe for letting, Rue Rue walk in on me snorting Xanax." The high was now beginning to wear off of both of them.

"and I thank the universe for letting me walk in on Kenn snorting Xanax."

Kennedy looked up at Rue who looked down at her. "Has anyone everyone told you how pretty you are, Rue Rue?" Kennedy asked with low eyes. "..Not really." She said shyly. "Wow, people get to see your beautiful face every day and they don't tell you how beautiful you are? Those people are losers." She said.

"I could say the same for you, Kenn." Rue smiled and Kennedy smiled at her back. She then took a big inhale on Rue's scent. "You smell good, Rue Rue." She mumbled taking another inhale.

"Well, it was your soap." She laughed. "I know I know, but it doesn't smell this good on me." She reasoned. "It means like a whole different scent on you."

"You're lying."

"No, I'm being for real." She laughed.

Rue looked down at Kennedy who was barely awake. Kennedy felt her gaze and opened her eyes. "Kenn?" Rue asked. "Hmmm?" She hummed.

"Can I kiss you?"

That question seemed to wake Kennedy up. She nodded her head and Rue quickly conjoined their lips together.

Rue grabbed Kennedy by her waist and pulled her on top of her. Kennedy grabbed onto Rue's face to deepen the kiss. Rue's hand explored Kennedy's entire body, from her waist, to her ass, and her inner thighs.

Rue held onto her ass tight causing Kennedy to groan into the kiss. Their tongues fought in dominance as Kennedy rocked her hips against Rue to get a type of friction.

Rue broke away from the kiss to catch her breath. Both of them took heavy breaths, Kennedy looked at hungry eyes wanting more. Rue took that look like a sign and flipped them over.

Rue got the hold on Kennedy's hands and put them above her head as she kissed her neck, leaving marks all over. Rue then began to suck on her pulse causing a soft moan to leave Kennedy's mouth.

Rue sat up and looked down at Kennedy. She looked vulnerable and wanted Rue to do anything with her body at this point. Rue began to remove her shirt and then Kennedy's, her titties coming insight for her not wearing a bra to bed.

Rue stared down at the sight before speaking "Do you really want to do this?" Rue asked. Kennedy looked and Rue and nodded. Rue looked in her eyes and could tell that she was being 100 percent positive.

Rue nodded and began to kiss Kennedy's stomach, going farther up each kiss. Once she landed on Kennedy's left breast she put it in her mouth, giving it a slight tug before letting it go, making a 'pop' sound. She did the same with the right before going up to her lips to give her the sloppiest but most affectionate kiss over.

"You're so beautiful." Rue whispered to Kennedy.

Rue then went down a little near Kennedy's legs and removed and shorts. She then spread Kennedy's legs and kissed her heat through her panties causing Kennedy to squirm and let out small noises.

Rue rubbed Kennedy's clit through her panties. She was enjoying the teasing, she loved seeing Kennedy squirm over her touch.

"Rue, please. No more teasing."

Rue smiled, she slowly removed her panties. "Only because you said please." She then got right into it and began eating Kennedy out. Instantly, Kennedy began to squirm causing Rue to hold her thighs to keep her still. It has been a while since she's received pleasure from someone, she missed this feeling.

"Fuck." Kennedy rolled her eyes to the back of her head and grabbed Rue by her hair and pushed her face more into her pussy. Rue began to plunge her tongue in and out of Kennedy's tight hole which made Kennedy go even crazier.

"Jesus Christ, Rue, just like that," Kennedy encouraged her ad she felt the knot she hadn't felt in a long time form in her stomach. Rue latched onto the girl's clit and traced A-Z sending her over the edge.

"I'm gonna cum, Rue. She arched back as her legs began to shake. "Give it to me, Kenn. Give it all to me," She encouraged her as a Kennedy creamed all in Rue's mouth.

Kennedy laid limp on the bed, twitching as Rue cleaned her up. She then stood up to remove her bottoms. "Can you go for one more time?" Rue asked. Kennedy wasn't sure if she could but she knew Rue needed pleasure just along as her so she nodded her head.

Rue spread Kennedy's legs once again before sitting her heat onto Kennedy's. Rue could come right on the spot by just feeling Kennedy's pussy on hers. She began to rock her hips, her lip instantly being tucked behind her teeth. "Shit." Rue cursed as she leaned her head back.

Kennedy was still sensitive but she felt her body prepared for another orgasm. "This feels so damn good." Rue said out loud more to herself.

Just like Kennedy, she hadn't had sex in a while, so this feeling was long overdue. The only sounds in the room were their moans, their pussies rubbing together and Kennedy's bed slightly sliding across the floor.

Rue began to pick up her pace causing both of them to close their eyes. "Just like that, Rue just like that." She whimpered as she started to meet Rue at her grinds.

"I'm almost there." Rue let out as she began to roughly hump Kennedy making the bed fully scoot across the floor. "I'm coming, I'm fucking coming." Rue moaned loudly as she cummed all over Kennedy's pussy, Kennedy was right after her their cum mixing as they helped each other ride their high. Rue collapsed on the bed and took deep breaths. She needed that. That euphoric feeling that everyone girl should feel.

Rue closed her eyes but opened them again when she felt a hand on her inner thigh. "You deserve a second orgasm don't you think?" She gave a tired smile.

Rue couldn't form words so all she did was open up and legs and Kennedy got straight to eating. Rue knew that it wouldn't be long until she came again by the way she was eating her pussy.

"Just like that, fuck." She pushed her head down into her pussy as she leaned her head back. Kennedy traced her name onto Rue's clit personally claiming Rue's pussy to herself. She then stroked her tongue in Rue's tight hole.

"Keep that shit up, baby. I'm so damn close."

Kennedy did just that and sooner or later Rue was squirting on the bed and Kennedy's face, "Ah, shit." Rue said grinding on Kennedy's face as she rode out her high. She dropped her head back and her mouth formed an 'O' shape. Rue's body went lip and Kennedy crawled and collapsed on top of Rue's naked and warm body. "That surprised me." Kennedy spoke as she got the cover and covered both of them.

"Me too, I've never done that before." Kennedy laughed. "Well, what can I say? My tongue can work miracles."

"Shut up." Rue giggled.

It didn't take long for them to fall asleep. They were pretty worn out and the highness left in their body made it easier for them to fall asleep.

They don't know why the universe set it out for Rue to walk in on Kennedy but she's glad it happened.

It was A Night To Remember.

For the both of them.

enjoyed writing this so i hope you enjoy reading i <33 thanks for all the love i got on my recent post much appreciated :,)

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Good Girl, Bad Boy (Pt. 07 of 15)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 1.6 K

Summary: You're the extreme opposite of Billy Hargrove. The good girl, with perfect grades, the child every mother wants to have. And you don't want to have nothing to do with his kind. Ignoring Billy – and his constant, lingering stare – became an habit. But after you're put together for a special school program, you'll have no choice but to get along with him. And soon enough you'll find out that Billy is so much more than just Hawkins' bad boy.

<-Previous part (06)

Next part (08) ->

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

×

Don't Go

Billy did threw the keychain away when he got home. It was on the trash can he has in his bedroom, beside the desk. It remained there, among a few school papers for half an hour before he took it again.

It went right back to it's previous place at the nightstand.

Billy is deliberately skipping class. It's the fourth day now, and he doesn't feel like he'll be returning tomorrow.

He leaves everyday at the same time he would for school, and returns after. But he drives to lonely places where he thinks he can run away from his own mind. But it is everywhere he goes.

She is everywhere he goes.

Billy Hargrove did considered going back to his old ways. He even managed to make his way to the phone, ready to call Stacy again. But when he picked up the phone, he caught himself halfway through her number. The number that belongs to the girl he can't stop thinking about. To the girl he can't ruin. Whose life he can't destroy.

She's too good for him, and he knows that. An angel, as stupid as it may sound coming from a asshole like him. Because that's what Billy thinks he is. He'd live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve (Y/N). Her smile, her laughter, her blushing cheeks. Her amazing, sweet scent, that shine in her eyes when she looks at him.

What does that even mean?

Billy is looking at Hawkins, parked on this cliff. (Y/N) would like it, and he wonders if she ever came here. Probably not, since the only people who know this place are those who come here for a hook up. There are a lot of places Billy would like to show her, some of them would take an hour drive through the woods, but it's worth it. He found them soon after getting into town, because he couldn't handle to stay still, so he drove. Pretty much as he's doing now, constantly running away from something that's inside of him.

Sighing, he pushes the car door close. At this time, he should be leaving school, going to her place as always. Today they'd go over the Biology class, if he's not mistaken. (Y/N) loves it, mostly when it's about animals. She loves birds. She didn't had to tell him that, he got it from the way she smiled as the teacher spoke.

These little things, the small details, as silly as they may be, are making him fall harder.

But he can't.

Well, he can.

But not her. Billy knows who he was. Or who he still is. So he knows what people will say about her. They'll call (Y/N) mean names, say she's just another of his sluts. And that's something he can't do, not to her.

But despite knowing this is the right thing to do, it hurts. It hurts that he has to step away from her, for good this time. Billy doesn't know how he'll live from now on without their daily meetings. Without her soft voice, her sweet scent inebriating him every damn time.

He has it bad.

It's only worse because he remembers it clearly, that day at that stupid parlor, how she said they could try. They could wait and see what happens.

That was a chance. A small one, that probably would lead to nothing, but still, a chance. Something he never thought he'd get. Not with (Y/N). But now, he won't even try anymore.

This might be love, he thinks. Putting someone else's well being before his own.

It's a hard thing to acknowledge, but when it's real, there's no way to run from it.

Sighing, Billy starts the car, putting the daisy keychain on the passenger seat. For a moment he sees her image, looking at him and smiling. On the next second, it's gone.

With a weight on his chest, he maneuvers the car, heading back to the hell on Earth he calls home.

“I don't know, Nan. He just... He disappeared. Like smoke in the air and I don't know why.” Sitting shotgun in Nancy's car, you let your heart out. Billy didn't show up at school last week, and not today either. It's been five days already, and he doesn't even answer your calls.

“You know Billy Hargrove, (Y/N). I'm not impressed with this sudden change and neither should you.”

“No, Nan...” Running a hand through your hair, you sigh. “Trust me, Billy... He's not like that. Not with me at least and I know what you'll say. That he lies to get girls but... I've seen how he treats them and so have you. He... He never yelled at me, or called me bad names, he...” You're defending him. The idiot fled with no explanation and still, you're defending him.

“(Y/N), I trust your judgment.” She stops by your place, turning her body towards you. “If what you're saying it true, go after him.”

“I–”

“Look, I get that you don't want to talk about it because you're scared of having feelings for the bad boy, and I'll wait until you're ready, but honestly, I think you know what you feel.”

Looking down at your hands, you blush. “I really like to be around him, Nancy.” Your voice is low and weak, as you admit it to her and to yourself at the same time. “And I miss him.”

“Don't call him, then. Go after him.” She touches your shoulder, smiling. “...Just don't let Steve know Billy is making you sad because you know he'll freak out.”

“God, no!” Giggling, you reach for your bag on the backseat. Steve looks out for you, even now, and it's good to know he has your back. But you definitely don't need the two guys having a fight over some misunderstanding. “Tell him I'm fine. Because I am. I'll... I'll fix things. And if Billy does want to stay away from me for whatever reason... I'll be alright.”

“Good luck and call me if you need anything.”

“I will. Thank you, Nan.” Giving her a hug, you step out of the car, heading inside. “Mom! I'm home!”

“Hi, darling!” She shouts from upstairs. Taking the chance, you run to the phone, quickly dialing Billy's number. It's not the first time you call, and whenever he picks up, you say ‘hello’ and the call is cut. It breaks your heart every time.

“Who's this?” A female voice answers, slightly pissed.

Relieved, you breathe out. “Hi, Max. It's (Y/N).”

“AKA the reason why the shitface has been locked in his bedroom like a jerk.” She speaks fast, and you furrow your eyebrows and giggle. “I think Billy is in love with you or something.”

“What?” Max says as if it's no big deal, as if she didn't made your heart start beating insanely fast, neck and cheeks heating up. “I-I don't think–”

“Billy never gets upset over a girl so...” Her voice fades, and you hear something in the back, wondering if it's Billy. “He has your keychain, by the way. A daisy flower.”

“Keychain?” You don't remember any keychains, so you just sigh, pacing around. “Max, can you do me a favor? I'm going there so don't let Billy go anywhere. And when I ring the door bell, let him answer it, please.”

“Alright. But don't take too long. Neil will be back around eight.”

“I'm going now. Thanks.” And you hang up, heading to the front door. “Mom, I'm going to get Billy!”

“Alright!” Good thing she doens't ask much questions, God bless her for that.

You try not to drive too fast, and you try to tell yourself this is no big deal. But you don't know what will happen. Preparing yourself for a heartbreak sounds good, so you decide to expect the worse.

So when you're parking on the sidewalk in front of Bill'y house, you know what you'll do. You'll put a finger on his face and ask what the hell he's thinking skipping class like that.

When you reach the front door, you realize you've never been here. Well, Billy did dropped his sister a few times before driving back to your place. And then, you're whole act drops. “Damn it.” Pressing the door bell, you wonder if you'd have enough time to just run back to the car and leave. There's a discussion inside the house, with Billy telling Max to get the door, and she refusing. You would have time to run, but you decide to be brave. So you stand your ground, pressing the bell again.

“Damn you, Maxine.” Billy groans, and on the next second the door is violently pulled open.

You freeze, watching as Billy's face drops. “Hi.” You mutter, looking down at your hands, blushing. You shouldn't be here. This is stupid. Whatever Billy said at Scoops Ahoy, it's over. But still, you want to try. To break through him, even if it means you'll be pushed further away. “C-can we talk?”

There's silence, several seconds of silence. And you curse yourself. Billy would never like you. He's the bad boy Nancy warns you about, that girls like you should avoid. Biting your lip, you feel your throat burning, tears wanting to make their way to your eyes.

“Nevermind, I shouldn't have come.” Pushing the words out, you turn on your heels to leave. But Billy grabs your arm, forcing you to stop. “Let go.” You beg, looking back at him. Your heart is breaking and you don't even know why. You just need to be away from Billy right now, and from all these feelings boiling inside you.

“No, please, just... Don't go.” His grip gets loose, and his hand slides from your forearm to your hand, and he holds it, pulling you inside. “Come in.”

Taking a deep breath, you weakly nod, letting him pull you into the house.

×

@multific @clockworkballerina @tina1938 @graciehams @moatsnow @all-the-stars-on-your-skin @captain039 @rebelemilu @vivian-likes-frogs @prettyinpunk85

[starlessea]

Here Comes the Sun: XXI. When You Were Young (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Series Masterlist: Here Comes the Sun

Summary: Daryl Dixon scares the hell out of you climbing out of that damn creek. It takes hauling his ass halfway across Georgia and taking a bullet for him to realise that you're not half bad. He slowly starts to come around, despite grumbling about how much he doesn't like your singing, or that you can't use a gun for shit - and don't get him started on that ugly yellow tent of yours. It takes him a while before he starts to see for himself that he's found a best friend for life, and that he doesn't actually mind the colour yellow that much, after all.

Words: 5907

Chapter Warnings: Language, Insecurities.

You snapped the book shut and looked up at your class, who stared back at you in complete awe. You laughed, taking in their expressions. The first time you had read this novel, your face looked something similar to how theirs did now. You couldn't help but let out a little laugh, uncrossing your legs and standing up from your seat. Immediately, they started to chatter amongst themselves about the ending, and the volume rose as their voices ricocheted off the walls of the small classroom. 

In the last couple of months that had passed since the takeover of Woodberry, the prison had been completely transformed. It was barely recognisable from how you'd first found it. The cells each had a bed, and now resembled actual rooms. The field had been tilled and converted into farmland courtesy of the Greenes, and you even kept livestock in wooden pens. Best of all, Rick and the others had set up a classroom for you to teach the children. You could remember it like it was yesterday. It had certainly been a well-kept secret, and almost everybody had known about it but you. 

Daryl and his team had scavenged some desks and school supplies, as well as an old blackboard that reminded you of the one you had first written your name on. They'd even brought back a wooden bookshelf - which they had to tie to the roof of one of the vehicles just to get it home. Over the course of the next few weeks, it began to collect books, filling up more and more each day.

Your first assignment had been for your students to create a poster on any book of their choice - and as a result, they also filled the white space of the walls. Before long, the former guards’ office resembled an actual classroom, brimming with colour and, surprisingly, children eager to learn.

"Okay, everyone!" You called out, clapping your hands to get their attention. "Now that we've finished this book, I want you all to write your own short story in response to it."

The group started to murmer amongst themselves again, and you yelled out over the chatter.

"It can be a sequel, or even something different inspired by it." You explained, your voice getting lost in the crowd. "Be as creative as you can." 

It was a real learning curve getting used to teaching younger students. Though, it was a lot more rewarding than you thought it would be. You remembered teaching Carl briefly at the Greene farm, which felt like a lifetime ago now. You never expected for your class to grow to the size that it was.

"I'm looking forward to reading them all tonight before bed." You added, once they had settled down enough to do so.

It was a tradition for you to do all of your marking in the evening. It filled up your time and kept you occupied until Daryl returned. He'd been going on a lot more runs recently, and it made you worry less when you had something to take your mind off it.

"Any questions?" You asked, and saw a flurry of hands go up in response.

"Teacher!" A young girl called, waving her arm to get your attention.

You smiled almost unknowingly. If adults had even half the enthusiasm of children, then maybe a lot more would get done around here.

"Yes?" You answered, and nodded in her direction.

The legs of her chair lifted a few inches off the ground as she swung back a little, and you fought every teacher-urge inside of you that said to pull her up on it.

"Is Mr. Dixon going to read them with you?" She giggled, and suddenly you forgot about the chair.

You couldn't contain the snort that left your mouth from the name 'Mr. Dixon.' You'd have to tell him about it later.

"I meant questions about the work." You chided gently, but the smile on your face told another story. "Though, he might. So make them interesting." 

Once again, you were unable to control the class as they got rowdy, and you just shook your head.

"You don't want him to fall asleep when I read them to him, do you?" You added, as you started to hand out the paper.

The children spent the next hour or so furiously scribbling out their stories in messy handwriting that you'd be tasked with deciphering later. Daryl had been gone for a few days on a run, but he was due back at some point today. Though, you wouldn't put it past him to conveniently arrive home late, to get out of marking duty with you.

When the time came to dismiss your class, you were given a lot of hugs and waves from everybody as they left. Perhaps it wasn't the most professional, but nothing really was these days. You were lucky to even still have a profession given the circumstances. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a figure looming in the entranceway, holding the door open for the children as they left the classroom. It was Carol, and she gave you a warm smile when she caught your eye. You beckoned her in after everyone else was gone, and she made her way shyly towards you with her arms behind her back.

The two of you had grown even closer over the last few months - all of you had. Though, you and Carol got along like a house on fire. She had the most brilliant sense of humor tucked away, and you were often lucky enough to get a glimpse of it when she felt mischievous. Daryl had given the pair of you the nickname 'dynamic duo' - and you thought that nothing could suit you both better.

"What are you doing here, Peletier?" You asked in a mock stern tone. "I don't remember giving you detention."

The woman smiled sheepishly at your teasing, before more confidently sitting down on your desk and stretching out her legs. From behind her back she brought out one hand, and placed a fresh, red apple over your paperwork. You laughed immediately, and so did she.

"I've always been a good student." She told you, with a grin. 

You hummed to yourself, unconvinced. You started to collect the loose sheets of paper from your students' tables, and the woman hopped off your own desk to help you. 

"I caught the end of your lesson. I hope you didn't mind me listening in." She admitted, and you shook your head in response. 

Normally, you got nervous if you were being observed. One time, Daryl dropped by to give you some supplies you'd asked for - and you'd gotten so red that the children made fun of you for the rest of the day. Yet, Carol's presence made you calm; she always was the one to have your back.

"They seem to really love you." The woman added, nonchalantly.

The compliment really did warm your heart. Even before the world ended, all you'd wanted was to gain the approval of your students. Except, that was the one thing that adults struggled to give.

"I just want to make it fun for them." You explained, picking up another hand-written story.

You could tell whose it was just by the handwriting. At this point, you'd gotten to know all of the children so well that they felt like part of your extended family; everyone in the prison did.

"I know they should be learning practical skills, too." You went on. "But I can't let them forget how to read and write."

You were mumbling to yourself, and barely noticed as Carol handed you the other half of the papers. You filed them all into a neat stack, and placed them onto your desk. Except, you now noticed a book sitting on it that hadn't been there before.

"I came to give you something." Carol said, pointing. "Well, to return something."

Your eyes widened as you read over the title. It was in pristine condition, with a shiny cover and an unbroken spine. 

"It's not the same copy." The woman explained. 

You could tell; it was much too neat to be the one you'd brought with you to Atlanta. That one had crinkled pages and a ripped cover even before you had leant it to Carol.

"I asked Daryl to keep an eye out for one on his travels." She admitted, and you perked up at the name. "Thought maybe you could read it to the kids one day."

You held the copy of The Little Prince in your hands, your eyes glancing over the delicate illustration of a young boy lost amongst the stars.

"Carol, you didn't have to do this-" you said quietly.

The woman cut you off before you could go on, nudging you gently with her shoulder.

"I did. I wanted to." She corrected, and you finally looked up to meet her eyes. "I'm sorry for what I did before." 

She said the words quietly, as though ashamed, and this time you were the one to elbow her back and shake your head. She gave a small smile.

"I liked the part with the fox." She told you. "Where he says that important things can only be seen with the heart, not the eyes."

You looked at Carol with a dumbfounded expression.

"I did read it, you know." She laughed.

So, the two of you did finally get to discuss the book together, just like you'd hoped to do all that time ago - back in the warm summer shade of the Greene farm.

When you spotted that mop of hair from across the courtyard, you knew instantly who it was. Well, the crossbow and that familiar leather jacket also gave him away. You started to run in his direction, before you spotted a group of your students and slowed down to an embarrassed jog. The man eyed you, and you could make out his taunting smirk even in the distance. 

It hadn't been that long since you'd last seen him, but your heart still ached to feel his arms around you. You never knew how lonely the nights could seem once you got used to sleeping besides someone you loved. 

You approached Daryl casually, feeling eyes on you. There were people working the fields, and others on the fences dispatching walkers. Even if they seemed busy, you weren't oblivious to their side-eye glances every now and then.

"Hey there, Stranger." You finally greeted the man. "Was starting to forget what your face looked like."

With the influx of survivors, Daryl had taken on even more responsibility than before. He was out for longer and home even less, but you knew it couldn't be any other way. You knew that - but it didn't stop you from resenting the fact.

"Too many damn mouths to feed." Daryl grumbled, pointing to the string of squirrels hanging from his belt. "These people are eatin' like kings." 

You laughed at that, thinking back to the last harsh winter where you'd all had to survive on some questionable meals, to say the least.

"Ah yes, the luxury of fresh squirrel." You teased, eyeing the dead animals strung up by their tails.

You made a face, and Daryl made one back.

"I'll give yers away if ya gonna keep bein' picky 'bout it." He warned, but it was much too light-hearted.

Still, you held your hands up in defence.

"Okay, okay." You replied, sending him a mischievous smirk. "I'm sorry."

The tension was thick between you, despite the banter. Even as dirty as he was, you wanted nothing more than to fall into the man and press a number of kisses to that face of his. Yet, you refrained. Maybe you could get him into the shower first, away from all these people as well.

"Just take a look at your hair, Dixon." You remarked, once you finally noticed it. "Are you growing it out for me? Because I said I had a thing for guys with long hair?"

It hung over his face, and he pushed the loose strands away from his eyes with the back of his hand. It suited him, but he was definitely in need of a good shampoo.

"Yer really pushin' yer luck today, aren't ya?" Daryl muttered, taking a step closer to you.

You couldn't hide the smile that had spread over your face. Even an exchange as simple as this left you beaming. There really was no one else who could make you laugh quite like Daryl Dixon.

"You've been gone for two days." You reasoned lightly, trying to hide the way it actually made you feel. "Am I not allowed to have missed you?"

He tended to tease you about it, so you tried not to make a big deal whenever he returned home. Yet, you failed every time. 

"What d'ya say?" Daryl asked, rubbing his ear.

He'd probably gotten mud stuck in there. It wouldn't surprise you - given how filthy he looked.

"I missed you." You repeated, begrudgingly.

Daryl narrowed his eyes, like he couldn't comprehend what you were saying in the slightest.

"Hmm?" He prompted, waiting for you to explain again.

You huffed and shook your head. You would be dragging him into the showers as soon as he got to the cell block.

"I miss-" you started, before the realisation kicked in.

You immediately slapped the man's chest with the back of your hand, and a smirk spread over his face.

"You're messing with me!" You yelled, and he shrugged his shoulders innocently - like he was completely oblivious.

You attempted to shove him again, but this time he caught your wrist and pulled you in close. Your chest hit his, and you felt the warmth you had been craving. You didn't care anymore about the curious stares, and it seemed that he didn't either. Daryl wrapped his arms around your waist, and you snaked your own over his neck to pull him down to you. 

Your noses touched, and you smiled against him. The two of you stayed like that for a few seconds, just taking in the sight of each other - and the feel. You could tell that you'd unintentionally gathered a bit of an audience. The new members of the community rarely got to see Daryl like this, so you often got quite a few looks whenever you were together - and a lot of follow-up questions when you were alone. You ran your fingers through the ends of his hair, that went all the way down to the base of his neck now.

"Well, if you're not going to let me cut it, the least you can do is let me braid it." You whispered, your face still close to his. 

You'd threatened it once before, but you were more adamant this time.

"Ya can fuck off." Daryl grumbled back, but somehow he managed to make it sound affectionate.

You laughed lightly, and finally gave him the shortest of kisses that only left him wanting more.

"I think the words you're looking for are 'I missed you, too'."

Daryl Dixon was a stubborn man. You'd realised it from the moment you met him. He was the type to stick to his guns, even if they weren't loaded. You'd seen him argue his way out of something even when he was wrong, and convince you of his viewpoint even when you were right. Daryl Dixon was stubborn - but he always cracked eventually when it came to you.

"Don' say nothin'." He snapped, and you bit your lip to hold back the laugh.

"I didn't say anything." You quipped, as naturally as you were able.

You plucked another daisy from out of the grass, and handed it to the child. She took it in her small fist, and threaded it through the man's hair - messily between the braids you'd given him.

"Yer face says it all." He grumbled, his own looking like thunder.

Daryl was sitting cross-legged on the ground, surrounded by a few of your younger students. They'd begged him to let them put flowers in his hair after eavesdropping on your earlier conversation, and you'd said yes before he could even reply. He was a stubborn man, but he was also a people pleaser.

"Mr. Dixon, what's your favourite flower?" Another girl asked politely, twiddling a bluebell stem between her fingers. "We'll see if we can find it."

You laughed, but quickly disguised it as a cough.

"Yes, Mr. Dixon." You chimed in. "What is it?"

If looks could kill, you'd be dead ten times over. Except, the man didn't look all that intimidating with stray daisies interwoven in his hair, and loose plaits that were in the midst of being braided by clumsy hands.

"Stop bein' a lil' shit." Daryl bit back.

Though, he immediately got punished for it.

"Teacher, he said a bad word!" One of the children exclaimed, pointing to Daryl like he was a shamed dog on the naughty step.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your composure, and watched as the man did the same.

"Daryl Dixon, if you swear like that again we'll have to wash your mouth out with soap." You scolded, in your most teacher-like voice.

The children laughed their high-pitched laughs, and you could see a small fire burning behind the man's eyes.

"'M gonna murder ya in yer sleep." He mumbled below his breath.

You yanked on the strand of hair you were braiding, before half-heartedly apologising and claiming it to be an accident. Daryl flinched, and whipped his head around to glare at you.

"What the f-" he started, but you narrowed your eyes at him. "Frog." He finished, and you lost it.

You let out what was perhaps the most unattractive snort of your life, which was much too bold to be disguised as any sort of cough. You knew you'd pay hell for this later, but for now you just wanted to relish in the power. You had Daryl in the palm of your hand, his hair quite literally wrapped around your little finger. He turned to glance at you, but you tugged again - but more gently this time.

"Jus' watch what yer doin'." He reminded you, before muttering some more underneath his breath. "Are ya tryin' to scalp me?"

Somewhere in the midst of the exchange, Deputy Grimes has sauntered over with an expression equally as smug as the one you wore. He had Judith in his arms, resting over his hip, and looked down at Daryl with a grin as he approached. He was wordless, but when the two of you made eye contact it was hard to remain that way.

"Jus' don't." Daryl sighed, sounding completely defeated.

"I didn't say anything." The officer replied, and at this point you couldn't deny that there were tears in your eyes.

Daryl looked up at Rick and squinted from the sun. He shook his head.

"Yeah, yeah. Tha's what they all say."

Rick watched the exchange in amusement. It had been refreshing to see him so relaxed during the last few months. You thought that he really deserved a break - and it seemed that he was making the most of it by spending time with his children.

"What did you do this time?" The man asked Daryl.

He shrugged in response, before one of your students reminded him to keep still.

"Nothin'." He grunted, seeming to be at the end of his rope. "Dunno why 'm bein' tortured for feedin' the lot of ya."

The string of squirrels had been passed along to the cook before the children had all but seized Daryl and demanded that he played with them. You may have had some involvement in his kidnapping, but you were only a bystander, really.

"Quit complaining, you big baby." You reminded him, before tucking a flower behind his ear.

Daryl had a vacant stare, but it soon became a warm one when he noticed Judith making some gurgles and smiling in his direction. She had her arm outstretched towards him, and Rick lowered her down so that she could be closer to what she was reaching for. The baby smiled a gummy smile, and ever so gently patted Daryl's head - eyes wide at the array of colourful flowers there. The man stayed completely still and allowed her to do it, and you just watched. You wished you had Glenn's camera during moments like these.

Not long after, the officer said his goodbyes, and left with his daughter. She peeked over his shoulder at the two of you as they walked away, and it made your heart melt as you looked at her.

"She's so adorable." You said, to no one in particular. "I want one."

Daryl choked, and you smirked at him deviously.

"Just kidding." You admitted, as though you hadn't almost caused the man to have a heart attack.

Daryl spluttered again before standing up. Most of your students had left the two of you alone, having gotten bored during your chat with Rick. You watched as the man shook out his hair, letting the flower petals float to the ground like leaves from a tree. 

"Jesus Christ, woman." He muttered, looking in your direction. "Calm down, would ya?"

You smiled as you helped him untangle the braids.

"There's only so much a man can take in one day." He went on.

Before long, Daryl’s hair went back to looking just as messy as it had done before, and you once again prompted him that he needed a shower. So, the two of you headed back to the cell block, and you slipped your hand into his to also remind him of how much you'd missed him.

"You never did say which flower was your favourite." You said, once the thought came into your mind. 

You glanced over at the man as you walked, but he just gave a small shrug in response.

"Dunno." He said quietly. "Guess I like the yellow ones."

Despite wanting to spend the night alone with Daryl, cuddled up under blankets in your cell as you read him some imaginative hand-written stories, the two of you had been convinced otherwise. Usually, alcohol wasn't permitted inside the prison - something about productivity and sharing that you hadn't really paid much attention to. But, since a lot of people had just returned from a long run, an exception had been made so that you could celebrate. 

It was hardly anything, really. There was barely enough to go around to get you tipsy, let alone drunk, and there were only a dozen of you sitting around the campfire - taking swigs from your plastic cups. The spirits had been diluted to stretch it out a bit more, and you were reminded of being a teenager again, swapping out vodka for tap water so that your parents wouldn't notice. 

Even so, your body hadn't had alcohol in a while - not since the Jack Daniels you'd all polished off back at Hershel's farm. Already, your head felt fuzzy, and your laughs sounded giddier than you'd intended. You were all sitting on the ground, out in the field. It almost felt like that first night you'd cleared the prison - except so much had changed since then. Rather than tentatively holding Daryl's hand in the dark, when everyone else was asleep, you were now sat in between his legs as his arms held your waist. His chest was warm against your back, and you could feel it rise and fall regularly.

You could also smell the alcohol on his breath, but you didn't really mind. It was rare that Daryl did drink - even when it was available to him. You liked the fact that he could relax for once, since he always seemed to bear the burden of looking after everyone else.

"You two!" Tyreese shouted, catching your attention.

Across from you, the man sat beside his sister, Sasha. Vanessa was also next to them. Out of everyone here, you knew the three of them best. Admittedly, you hadn't got around to learning everyone else's names yet. 

You looked up, startled, and Daryl chuckled softly at the way you flinched in his arms. 

"How'd you meet?" The man asked, and offered a smile in your direction.

If there ever were such a packed question, it would have been that one. It was the type of question that required a whole book to answer - like one of the stories you'd set for your students to write. You glanced back at Daryl, only to find that he was already looking at you. He remained silent, so you raised an eyebrow at him before realising that you'd be the one answering.

"It was really romantic, actually." You spoke after a few seconds.

Everyone else's chatter had died down, and you suddenly felt very exposed as you became the centre of attention. Except, liquid courage always did work wonders where you were concerned. 

"The first time I met Daryl, he told me to fuck off and called me a mule." You announced, like you'd been waiting for the perfect moment to do so.

Your audience erupted with laughter, and you took in the looks of disbelief around the campfire - feeling satisfied with your choice of words. Except, it didn't last long. Daryl jabbed you in the ribs with his elbow, and you shot a glare back at him.

"Tha's not what happened." He argued, and everyone fell quiet once again to listen to what the man had to say.

It was rare that they got to see Daryl like this - letting loose and talking without being prompted to do so.

"Jus' fought off two walkers only to have some chick yelling at me, sayin gimme yer hand like the ghost of Christmas past or some shit." He explained, his voice more animated than you'd ever heard it. "Thought my time had come."

A few more chuckles could be heard in response, but Tyreese eventually spoke up.

"Can someone translate for them?" He asked, and it was then that you realised just how much detail you'd need to tell this story of yours.

So much had happened between you and Daryl that you'd need countless sheets of paper to recount it, unlimited words and a number of chapters. You leant back further into the man, deciding how to officially introduce it.

"Well, it all started with this yellow tent." You said, and the others listened.

You went on for a bit, taking sips of alcohol between your words. Everyone seemed enraptured by you, and it even seemed like Daryl was hearing the story for the first time, too. It felt strange to recount it in such a way, and it made you realise just how much had happened since the world had ended. 

You smiled as you finished, deciding to give one last summary to your captivated audience.

"So basically I pulled Daryl up from a cliff-face, then hauled his ass halfway across Georgia, before finally taking a bullet for him."

The alcohol had long since ran out, but everyone had stayed to hear the ending. Maybe you were oversharing, but spirits gave you loose lips - and you always did have a bad habit of running your mouth.

Tyreese started clapping slowly, before pointing at Daryl where he sat.

"You, brother, are one lucky man." He remarked with a smile.

You heard Daryl grumble something next to your ear, before addressing him back.

"She leaves out the part where she stuck 'er finger into my wound and sang outta tune next to me for three hours straight."

You bit your lip before finishing off what little was left of your drink.

"Minor details." You mumbled.

Some of the men you didn't know were murmuring amongst themselves beside you, but your head was too foggy to make out what they were saying. Perhaps Daryl could, since he had a scowl over his face. You didn't have time to question it, though, because Vanessa soon interjected with a laugh.

"So you're telling me that you now share a bed with the same guy who had walker ears around his neck when you first met him?" She teased, and you beamed back at her.

"Yeah-" you muttered, before sighing dramatically. "Sometimes I question my own judgement, too."

The walk back to your cell was more of a stumble, but no one had to know that. You and Daryl both made it there in one piece, so no further questions needed to be asked as to why you were missing a shoe, or who you'd tripped over along the way. It had seemed all fun and giggles, until you realised that it had been one-sided fun and entirely your own giggles.

Once you entered the room, you finally noticed how quiet Daryl had been. He toed his boots off wordlessly and threw his leather jacket into the corner. He knew how much that frustrated you, but he seemed too wrapped up in his own thoughts to care. 

You walked up to the man and snaked your arms around him from behind, so that your chest was pressed to his back. All day, you'd been craving for the two of you to just be alone - but now that you were, he seemed too agitated for his own good. You thought that you must have missed something, because Daryl definitely didn't seem like himself. 

You rubbed your palms along his chest slowly, but he stopped you with his own hand, and pulled away. He turned to face you, and you cocked your head to the side as you took in his expression. His eyes were narrowed, and he was chewing at his lip like he always did when he was confused. Eventually, he shook his head.

"Yer too good for me." He stated, like it was a fact. "'M a lucky man." He went on. "Why'd ya want someone who wore walker-"

"Whoa, slow down there." You cut him off. 

He was reciting all of the things that had been said over the campfire, you realised - except they'd all been playful jokes, and he knew that. The man sounded like a broken record, but you couldn't quite put your finger on what had made him break.

"Someone's had too much to drink." You reasoned, but raised an eyebrow as you did so.

You weren't convinced yourself, but you had no other explanation as to why he was blurting out the things that he was. Daryl was a big man, and the amount of alcohol he'd drank was nowhere near enough to get him drunk.

"'M fine." He confirmed, but you knew there was more going on. "Jus' the truth, s'all."

The man looked down at his feet as he spoke the words, and you sighed.

"We are not doing this again, Daryl." You warned, and took a step closer to him.

Ever since more people had been coming to the prison, Daryl had seemed to convince himself that there were plenty of better options available to you - all without consulting you about it, of course. It had gotten to the point where you'd snapped at him, almost a month back, and it had escalated into a fight. You understood where he'd been coming from - a few people had gotten a little too friendly with you on more than one occasion. But, you'd convinced him that you were right where you wanted to be, next to his side. 

You'd thought that had been the end of it, but something must have happened to bring it back to the surface.

"I see the way they all look at ya. Like they want ya." Daryl snarled, like he was seeing things that you couldn't. "They were talkin' 'bout it right in front of me."

And suddenly, it all made sense. The men you had noticed staring and mumbling had set Daryl off. You realised that he must have heard what they were saying - and that it must not have been good. Yet, part of you still felt frustrated that he had even listened to it. You'd spent the whole night recounting how you met the man, and how much he meant to you, only for your words to be completely unravelled by words of others that were insignificant.

"So?" You finally responded, more forcefully than you intended.

Daryl's head snapped up to look at you, and you met his eyes in return.

"I go through the same thing with you."

The man was silent for a few seconds, like he couldn't fully comprehend what you'd said.

"What?" He asked, and you shook your head.

"Just because you're blind to it, Dixon, doesn't mean that I am." You told him.

You placed your hands over his chest again, but this time he didn't shrug you off.

"They look up to you. You're a hero to a lot of these people." You explained, like you'd truly accepted the fact. 

You could feel the heat radiating off the man from underneath the tips of your fingers, and you took another step closer to him so that he could feel you, too.

"You don't think there's days that I hear women giggling about you? Talking about you like you're some knight in shining armour who rescued them from this world?" You said, chuckling a little as you did so.

At first, it had killed you to see. Every time you noticed someone staring at the man, or whispering about him when they thought you couldn't hear, it made your blood boil. But, after a while you became numb to it - mostly because Daryl never even spared them a second glance.

"It makes me feel pretty shitty, too." You admitted, as you let your fingers rest over the first button of his sleeveless shirt.

You looked upwards at him, and he gave you a small nod - so you started to unbutton it.

"But then I come back to our cell, and I'll see that you've left me flowers on our pillow." You went on, smiling in the direction of your mattress, where you had missed the man’s presence over the last few days. "Or I'll notice a new cassette tape in my walkman without you even saying anything."

You reached the last button, and shrugged the material over Daryl’s shoulders so that you could see his bare chest.

"And then I forget about all those other people." You confessed, and pressed your palm over his heart. "Because I'm reminded everyday that you're mine."

Daryl immediately placed his hand over the back of yours, and squeezed it gently. 

"I'm yours." He agreed, and this time leant down to give you a kiss of his own without being prompted.

It was soft, but you'd missed the feel of him - and it made you impatient. You could taste the alcohol on his lips, and so you broke away before you became too intoxicated by it.

You hooked your fingers around his belt loops and pulled his body closer to yours - so close that his bare chest was warm against you, and you could feel his heart pounding.

"Then show me." You said, and he did.

A/N: So every time I write a chapter of HCtS, I delete the notes for it from my masterplan - and I’m getting so emotional seeing it get smaller and smaller each week. We’re coming to the end and I can’t deal-

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[emwritesstuff]

as the world caves in | ch. 9 | bucky barnes x reader

synopsis: You are a ghost story. A former Air Force pilot who had her plane shot down by Germany in 1945, but here you were in 2023, alive and frozen in your 25-year-old body.

You haven’t seen Bucky since the 1940’s, before his fall, before you went on a suicide mission only to come back alive. You aren’t sure reliving those memories – and being a living memory of everything the man has lost – is the best for him.

But you and Bucky won’t be apart for long.

This will loosely follow the plot of TFATWS - so spoilers ahead, specially regarding episode six (finale). Thread carefully!

masterlist | AO3

notes:  thank you everyone for your patience with this chapter. I'm dropping this lil shortie so we can get the story moving. Let's go! (warnings: lil' fluff, lil' angst) (word count: 3K) nine: records

Bucky knocked on your door a few weeks later.

It was late, and you were snug in your pajamas, winding down after a long day. With your identity no longer a secret, the government was in the midst of transferring you to something more… hands-on, and definitely less diplomatic, you were assuming; so much for retirement, but you figured 30 years of it had been more time than you could’ve anticipated.

You almost didn’t hear the soft rapping on wood over Vera Lynn’s mellow singing.

When you finally opened it, you found him standing there, wearing tired eyes and a dark coat. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but I started walking and I—"

“When I said you’re welcome anytime, Bucky Barnes, I meant any time.”

A tiny fraction of a smile was offered your way, and you grasped it tight against your heart at the same time you do his hand, pulling him inside.

His fingers lingered on yours, but before you could start thinking about it he pulled away, taking a seat at the edge of your couch. “I finished it. The book.”

Bucky answered your question before you could ask it. “I just came from there. The last one– the last name.”

“Well. Are you alright?” You sat next to him, your knee knocking against his, and his gaze went from the floor, to the spot where your legs touched, and then to you. He knitted his eyebrows, seeming a little incredulous you were even asking.

“I will be.” His hands intertwined on the space between his knees, and you placed a hand ton his shoulder, getting him to look at you again.

“Yes, you will. Do you want to talk about it?”

One corner of Bucky’s lip raised up, and he shook his head. “Is that Vera Lynn?”

You smiled, turning to look at your record player as if Vera herself was sitting next to it. “It is. Takes me back, I guess.”

“It’s all we’d listen to at the front.”

Nodding, you wondered for a second if Bucky remembered dancing to We’ll Meet Again the night before he was shipped off. Even if you weren’t the only girl he had danced with then, you still asked yourself if that memory was burned on his mind as it was on yours.

We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when. A short-term promise, made back then by hopeful lovers, friends, family members; you had no idea that those lyrics would prove themselves so literal when you and Bucky mouthed them at each other in the middle of a dancefloor.

You let out a breathy chuckle, standing up and beckoning him to where you kept the rest of your vinyl. “Come on. Vera’s starting to feel a little too nostalgic to me.”

Your record collection was pretty extensive, ranging from things of the good ol’ days from the special editions that were still being released nowadays. Bucky joined you on the floor, and together you started to make your way through decades eternized in discs.

“Marvin Gaye.”

You look up from The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust, finding Bucky making a face at the album he was holding. “It’s really good. Do you want to—”

“No. No more Marvin Gaye.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “You don’t like him?”

“I like Marvin Gaye! Jesus. Marvin is good—Marvin’s jus’ fine,” Bucky rubbed his eyes with his thumb and middle finger, and you finally understood.

“Sam’s been preaching you the word of R&B to you too, huh?”

You giggled at the tired look he gave you and silently took Trouble Man out of his hands, stuffing it back with the rest of the 1970’s.

Years ago, Bucky would be delighted to dive headfirst in the new – your trips to countless science fairs and expositions were enough proof of that – but looking at him now, knowing him as you were starting to once again, you figured that just a dip of the toes was more than enough.

You pulled Frank Sinatra from the 1950’s section.

“I know Sinatra.”

“Do you now?”

You put the record on your player, and Vera Lynn’s longing gave way to Sinatra’s swagger and jazz.

“Do you?” Bucky teased, frowning at the most recent items in your collection. As soon as Frank’s voice filled the silence, he nodded. “Yeah, that’s nice.”

“I do know him! Or did. Met ‘im in 1962.” You plopped next to Bucky, who was shaking his head. “What?”

“Show off.”

“No, just been around. Met people on the way. And, you asked.” Your smirk grew into a grin as Bucky mouthed your words back at you. Then his face fell for a second, and your amusement was quickly replaced by worry. “What is it?”

“Nothing, I guess – I guess I just missed a lot.” The same way one of the corners of his lips tug on his cheek again in his attempt of a smile, melancholy tugs at your heartstrings. “I missed out on everything. And I missed out on you.”

Bucky’s head was low as he spoke and you could see the tremble of his hands, even though he clutched one of your records tightly. Nina Simone, 1960’s.

“M’not going anywhere, you know.”

“You still lived an entire lifetime—”

“I did, yes, thank you for constantly reminding me that I’m over 100 years old.” You shook your head at him, sighing softly when he chuckled.

You couldn’t blame him, for clinging to every bit of past he’d missed while he was in HYDRA’s clutches – you knew that was inevitable, but you wished that such sorrow wasn’t so related to you.

“What are you doin’?” He asked as you summoned a small stool from the side of your shelf and stepped on it.

“I want to show you somethin’.” The thing you were looking for was stored at the very top: a heavy, brown leather suitcase that almost made you lose your balance when you pulled it from the spot it had been sitting in for—honestly, years, many of them.

The contents of the suitcase rattled as you climbed down and sat next to Bucky again. Sinatra still playing, telling his lover I've got you under my skin, I've got you, deep in the heart of me;

You almost laughed from the truth and irony of it.

I'd tried so, not to give in

I said to myself this affair never will go so well

You unlocked the suitcase, revealing the gathered memories inside. Pictures, movie tickets, theater playbooks, receipts, trinkets. All souvenirs of the 80 something years of your life Bucky hadn’t been there to see.

Not organized in the slightest, the keepsakes of your life were tossed together and out of order just as in your memory: photographs of you in uniform, and sometimes in party dresses; of when you bought your house; of the few times you had pets. Posing next to famous people and other important ones whose names weren’t as well known by the world.

As you and Bucky went through each of them, you added a story or an explanation, sometimes both, to fill him in on the details of your life events. He laughed at some, frowned at a lot, stared at you intently for all of them.

“Is this Berlin?”

You hummed, nodding. “1989. That party was great.”

“Party?” Bucky knitted his eyebrows in surprise.

“The city was unified, the wall was being taken down, and everyone was celebrating. I’ve never seen that many bottles of vodka in one place.” You laughed, taking a good look at yourself in the picture.

The 80’s were definitely not your best decade, looks wise. You had tried a perm the year before, and the poodle look was only then starting to dial down. The beginnings of a bruise were starting to creep on your left eye, from the mission you had completed just a few hours before.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been that drunk.”

Bucky’s surprise intensified, his eyes wide. “We can’t get drunk.”

“Yes we can.”

“No, no we can’t.”

“We can, in fact. It’s all a matter of quantity and, well, speed.” You giggled as Bucky’s mouth gaped more.

“And the hangover?”

“Horrible. Like getting shot on the forehead. Comes quickly, too.”

He grimaced, and with one last look – certainly to register your peculiar appearance on his mind – gently put the picture back inside the suitcase. A stack of papers seemed to call out to him and he picked it up, releasing them from the band that held them together carefully.

Postcards of the places you’ve been: a small note to James Barnes and Steve Rogers on the back of each one.

Bucky’s voice faltered. He let out an anguished little sound, probably something that was supposed to be an Oh, or a What, but had no strength to crawl up his throat.

You brought your knees to your chest as you waited for him.

“You—you wrote to us?”

“I did. You can keep those, they’re addressed to you.”

After all this time, you could barely remember the words you wrote in those postcards; all you knew was that some had longer messages, others a simple Wish you were here.

“After we met in Baltimore, I thought that— that you’d have moved on from us.”

From me.

As if that was possible.

“Well, I stopped writing by 2003, give or take. But really,” You sighed. “It’s hard to forget someone when you’ve always been expecting them to come back to you.”

Bucky flipped the postcard from Rome, read the writing and smiled wistfully at it. “And, I did.”

“You did. And staying away was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but—”

“But you’re annoyingly stubborn.” His jaw tightened, then relaxed when he smirked. “I mean, I get it – If the roles were reversed, I’d leave you rebuild your life without me like a self-sacrificing idiot too.”

Alright. That was fair.

Shaking your head, you watched as he slipped the postcards in his pocket, an amused expression on his face.

“That was… a big mistake. Something a self-sacrificing idiot would do,” You screwed your eyes shut in shame, opening them when Bucky chuckled. “but now, I’m right here. And so are you.”

His stubble scratched the soft skin of your palm when you reached for him, and you continued. “We’re a little out of place in this century, that much is true, but if I’m being honest… I’m getting tired of yearning for the past, Buck.”

Good old times – sometimes really good, sometimes bad, every one of them old – tucked away in your heart like your records were tucked in neatly in their shelf, organized by year. As you went through the decades, your enhanced body eternizing you like marble, your heart seemingly stayed at that army camp overseas. Or maybe Sergeant Bucky Barnes had taken it with him, only for them to be frozen together, leaving you with an empty hole in your chest.

You lived your life longing for that missing piece, the one with blue eyes and the dashing smile and the skilled feet.

The one that in many other stories was the one that got away, the one who now believed he was somebody else, but had brought your heart back with him all the same.

The very heart that nearly leapt out of your chest when Bucky rested his forehead against yours.

You’ve never been this close – there isn’t an ounce of past in the gesture. His eyes being tightly closed kept him from seeing the surprise on your eyes and then how they fell to his lips for a millisecond. Then, those lips brushed against yours in a featherlike touch.

I would sacrifice anything, come what might

For the sake of having you near

He pried himself off you when you exhaled, as if your very breath had electrocuted him.

“M’sorry. I—I didn’t—” He said as you stared at the back of his neck, and the shock gives way to disappointment.

I didn’t mean to. Or maybe: I didn’t want to.

“That’s—it’s okay.” You clapped your hands on your knees, still feeling the prickle of his facial hair on them, and got up to change the music.

There was no doubt Bucky was touch starved, and that he probably craved the closeness that comes with a lover. He sought that for a fleeting second in Sam’s sister, and now in you. No point in dwelling on what it might have meant.

Right?

Looking at Bucky, his expression was overcast, furrowed eyebrows as he watched you from his spot on the floor. You offered him a gentle smile, and the crease on his forehead eased up slightly.

Right.

Don't you know little fool, you never can win

The record player made a scratching sound as you replaced Frank Sinatra with your go-to jazz compilation. Instrumental.

No lyrics.

There was one thing you’ve always been good at, regarding the infatuation with Bucky Barnes that has taken over your heart for almost a century now: locking the feelings away and stepping into the shoes of the best friend.

Besides, you’ve said it yourself: no more yearning for the past. Hopefully you and Bucky would be able to do that soon enough.

At that moment, however, you needed to feel the burn of whiskey down your throat and pretend it’ll heal the calcinating rejection spreading through your chest.

The guilt you found in Bucky’s eyes as he watched you sweep around your hardwood floors made you pour a glass for him.

He took it gratefully, frowning when you bottomed the whole thing up.

“There’s a lot in here.” He tapped the edge of the suitcase, skillfully steering the conversation in the direction of the more palatable, calm territory it was in before.

The sight of your autobiographical collection made you smile.

“An entire lifetime,” You said, fishing your dog tags from the bottom. “I suppose that’s where it started. Or at least, where thisstarted.”

Bucky took them reverentially, running his thumb over the imprint of your name and numbers.

He reached for his neck, producing from under his Henley the same type of metal chain he was holding in his hands. The fact that he still wore his like that sent a sharp blow to your lungs, almost knocking the air out of you.

His face softened, a smile so beautiful spreading across his lips, so much that your chest clenched in protest because it was simply not fair, how he still had you entirely.

He deposited both of your dog tags in your hands, and that’s when you saw it, and remembered it.

“Won’t we get in trouble for this?”

“Do you care?”

“Well…No.” You sighed, already resigned. And a little excited.

Bucky knew you well: it had been too long of being a good little soldier when all you were used to was the rush of being a hellion.

“And that is why, sugar, that I’m doing this with you, and not with Steve.”

The words made your heart soar, but you were sure to recapture it before it could fly away too high, still too attached to the sensation of the take-off to clip its wings.

You liked flying.

“And because Steve hasn’t been successful in his enlisting efforts. Yet.”

Bucky looked at you from behind his eyebrows, a reprimand hiding in his eyes, but he decided to shove his uniform hat on your head instead. You grumbled, calling him a jerk under your breath.

It was the night before Bucky was drafted to England. He looked handsome in his uniform, a shining, polished star, brighter than the sun even under the dim streetlight you two stood under.

After bringing his and Steve’s dates home (yours was lost to another boxing match along the way – not that you were crying about that) Bucky had decided he was going to stay up all night, because, in his words, he could sleep when the war was over. Or, more realistically, in the ship on the way to England.

So there you two were, illuminated by street lamps and moonlight, visiting the façades and front windows of your favorite places in Brooklyn like drifters in the night.

Bucky still concentrated on his task, his shoulder hunched slightly to block your sight.

“Let me see! Bucky!”

“ ’Sposed to be a surprise! I’m almost done.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “It’s not like I haven’t seen ‘em before.”

“You gotta be more patient. Here.”

He dropped your dog tags on your hand. You displayed the small steel plates on your palm, scanning your eyes over the two. One of them, of course, had your name, number, blood type, next of kin – an aunt you’ve never met – and address.

The other had Bucky’s.

James B Barnes. 32557038.

He slipped his own chain over his head, the plate with your name clinking against his.

You brought the tips of your fingers to your lips, feeling a smile begin to form onto them.

“I forgot we did this. I haven’t looked at these in so long.”

You had stopped wearing your dog tags the day the war had ended – Bucky was gone then, Steve too, and the weight of his dog tags slamming against your chest was too much to bear – your heart was already heavy with its own engraving of their memories.

“Steve had a lecture prepared when he gave mine back.” Bucky chuckled when you looked up at him, incredulous.

You shook your head, half exasperated and half amused. “Good grief, Steve.”

“Y’know how he is. Was,” He trailed, lips twitching as they formed a thin line.

You reached for him, your hand hovering in the space between you for a second before Bucky took it, lacing your fingers. Scooting closer, you let your cheek rest on his shoulder.

“He’d be glad we’re reunited.” You said, raising your head to peek at him and the newfound upwards curl of his lip. “And mortified we’re still bickering.”

Bucky smiled and squeezed your hand. “Old people. Old habits.”

Laughter bubbled out of your chest, and you realized a few things.

In that moment, it didn’t matter – the heartache, the unrequited side of your love. It was just a fact, a fact of life, of your life, that you a lot of the times loved him as more than your best friend. You loved him. And that was the core of it, the most important fact.

And you knew he loved you – you had each other – in this big, ever-changing, modern world, you had Bucky and Bucky had you.

You sat in comfortable, familiar silence until your eyelids grew heavy and you felt yourself drifting in and out of consciousness.

“You dozin’ on me, sugar?”

“It’s been a long day.” You said with your eyes still closed, feeling him chuckle beside you.

“Tell me about it. I can go—”

“You know damn well you should stay.” You patted his arm and hoisted yourself up from the floor. “I’ll get the pull-up ready for you.”

As you sauntered towards the office, ignoring his pleads and protests that he’s got it, he doesn’t need sheets or anything, you put your dog tags back on.

They jingled lightly against your heart.

Maybe you didn’t have to leave all of the past behind to start building something good and new, after all.

[apixrl]

MORNING CUDDLES.

eijirou kirishima x fem!reader

WARNING(S): none

word count: 2.8k

note(s): eiji and his partner call each other love 25/8 and no u cannot tell me otherwise >:(

italian translation - translator !!

Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep.

Your hand snuck its way out from under the duvet, blindly searching for your phone in order to shut off the nuisance that was your alarm. Once you did, you slowly let your eyes drift open and meet the blank canvas of the ceiling above.

The sun was peeking through the blinds off to the left side, causing streaks of light to form on your bedroom walls and bed itself. None of them obstructed your vision luckily, there was nothing worse than lying in bed only to have the sun blind you. A light snore interrupted your tiredness and caused your eyes to open wider, directing them off to the right to meet that of your boyfriend, Eijirou.

As per usual, he looked at peace during his state of slumber. His mouth hung slightly open to reveal his iconic sharpened teeth as snores broke through them. His usual gelled up hair was now ironed down to structure his face and practically conceal it with the amount there. It swept over one of his eyes - though didn't stop the scar on his right one peeking through. The rest of his hair was mushed up between his cheek and the pillow his head lay on.

You smiled at the sight, losing yourself in his handsomeness for a moment before leaning forwards to peck his forehead softly. You then pulled back the covers on your side, making an effort (reluctantly) to sit yourself up and swing your legs over the end of the bed. Just as you were about to find the means to stand, something tugged you back causing you to gasp. It was only when Eijirou's voice hit your ear that you processed what happened.

"Morning," The redhead let out, voice hoarse and deeper than usual to signal the classic case of morning croak, something you always loved to hear first thing. An arm snaked around your front to pull you back against Eijirou's abdomen. With a little smile, you turned your face to the love of your life, who was tiredly gazing at you.

"Good morning," You faintly sang. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mhhm," Eijirou replied, using his spare hand to reach up and rub his waking eyes at the same time as he released a mighty yawn. "You?"

"Like a baby," Was your answer as Eijirou allowed his hand to gently graze your forearm affectionately. You hummed softly, not wanting to move one bit from the comfort. If anything, you would have liked to have remained under his touch the entire day. Something about his subtle physical signs of adoration brought you head over heels for him, even more so than you already were. But you knew it couldn't last forever. So after a minute of sweet quiet, you proceeded to shift forwards to try and get up. Only to find the grip on you tighten and a disgruntled noise of protest to leave Eijirou's throat.

"Love, I gotta get up," You spoke and turned back to him with a sigh. "I've got that meeting at 10, remember?"

"No," Was the only thing you received back from your partner. Eijirou looked up gently into your E/C eyes. "Five more minutes?"

At first, you went to say a flat no, mainly because you'd expected him to act like this despite knowing full well you were going out. But you eventually concluded on a compromise to try and be smart about it. Fingers playing with the sheets of your bed, you spoke up once more.

"How about you let me go grab us a hot drink and then five more minutes?" It seemed to do the trick. Eijirou paused in thought before gently mumbling an 'okay', the grip on you loosening to give you the freedom to stand up. Once you stood upright you looked back to Eijirou, who was following your every move through tired red eyes.

"I'll come back in sec okay?"

"You better,"

This clingy side to Eijirou usually came out on the first day or two of him having time off work. Since he was a Pro-Hero he could sometimes be working days on end without a break, so moments like this the pair of you really treasured to maintain a healthy relationship. You smiled during your trip to the kitchen, his touch still on your mind as you started to prepare yourself a steaming F/H/D and a simple black coffee for Eijirou.

On your way back to the bedroom you made a pit stop to go to the toilet and somewhat freshen yourself up. All you did was brush your hair and wash your face (you planned to do make-up later) and then you were heading back to Eijirou. You opened the door with your foot since both hands were occupied by mugs.

"I told you I wasn't going to be long,"

"It was too long," His voice came from the bundle of covers, a head poking out from under as you saw a flash of a toothy grin. It was more tired than usual but still held the same passion nonetheless.

"Somebody's impatient,"

"Whatever. Now let me use you as a pillow," Eijirou uttered, waiting for you to put the drinks down and to get into bed. Pulling back the cream covers of your shared bed you were soon engulfed by arms as a head found refuge on your chest.

"Happy?" You said with a laugh. Eijirou nodded and let his eyes close, listening to the sound of your heartbeat against his cheek with a soft grin. He then felt himself get even more at home when your fingertips guided themselves to play with the ends of his hair.

"Yes,"

---

"Come on, Eijirou... I need to go get ready," You whined, rolling your eyes at the silence you received back. Only the soft and light pecks of kisses landing on your shoulder blade signalled Eijirou's distraction, almost pretending to be deaf for his own personal benefit. You rolled back in order to make him stop, looking up at Eijirou in protest. At first, he sent you a nearly offended gaze at daring to make such a movement, claiming he wasn't finished and had intentions of carrying on. Though slowly his jaw altered to a pout, reaching to tuck some hair behind your ear.

"Do you have to go?" Eijirou mumbled and leaned down to peck your lips.

"Yes, I do," You answered.

"Can't you just call in sick or something?"

"I already did that three weeks ago... so probably not,"

"Please?"

"I said I can't. Now get up, lazy bones,"

You went to get up once more, this time forcing yourself through the gripping fingers and hands of Eijirou to escape the bed. When you came out successful you released a small laugh of triumph much to Eijirou's dismay. It was there you walked to your closet and took the clothes hanging over the door on a clothing hanger, looking back at Eijirou whose face had now emerged further from under the covers to watch you.

"Is it even an important meeting, love?" Eijirou said, eyes following as you shuffled back to the bed and put the clothes at the bottom. You released a sigh as you turned to put the clothing hanger back in the closet, not aware of the cheap move Eijirou made when you weren't looking and instead answered his question.

"Not really? But because I missed the last one - no thanks to you, I think it'd be better I should get to this one," Wandering back to the bed, slipping off the shirt you'd stolen off Eijirou the night before as you did, Eijirou rolled his eyes and undermined your words.

"So... miss this one and go to the next,"

"As I recall you said that last time and promised you wouldn't say it when it occurred again... but here we are," There was a little smirk on your face when you caught him rolling his eyes, and in response, you playfully tossed the shirt you'd had on at the redhead. Eijirou snickered and managed to catch it before it hit his face, going to crumple it into a ball and place it next to him.

"You throw like a girl,"

"And you scream like one, doofus,"

"I'm not a doofus... doofus,"

Eijirou couldn't help but smirk in amusement at you, his face lighting up all the more into a bright beam when he heard a laugh release on your part. You were just finishing buttoning up your collar shirt as Eijirou watched, arms crossing over his chest. He cocked his head back against the headrest as well as to the side in thought.

"I ever tell you that you look good in shirts like that?" The redhead stated, receiving a glare that had formed on your face.

"Don't you get any ideas,"

"Wasn't suggesting any, just stating the obvious," He raised his arms in defence as you sat down on the bed by his legs, reaching for the blazer.

"That's also something you said last time and look what happened there - wait where's my...?" You were one sleeve through your blazer when you noticed that one of your pieces of clothing was missing. The navy blue pencil skirt that matched your top half to be more specific. You looked behind and around you, and also to the closet thinking you forgot to grab it with everything else, proceeding to frown in thought.

You swore you hung it up there and -

With a heavy exhale, you felt your body twist around and turn to a particularly quiet Eijirou sitting behind you.

His expression read it all like he was trying to be both obvious and mysterious all in one go in order to get you to question him. It most definitely worked, a hand meeting your hip as you stood upright and quirked a quizzical brow.

"Eiji?"

"Hm? What is it, dearest?"

"Can I have my skirt back please?"

"What do you mean? I don't have your skirt," His growing smirk and amusement in his eyes betrayed his words, refusing to make eye contact with you in a playful manner you'd seen countless times before.

"Okay, so where is it then?"

"I don't know," He innocently shrugged. "Maybe the skirt fairy came and took it,"

"The skirt fairy," You repeated, disbelief laced in your voice.

"Yep," He said through a laugh. "I don't know what to tell you, love. There can't be any other explanation,"

"Just give me back my skirt before I get behind on time,"

"I don't have it,"

"Yes, you do,"

"No, I don't,"

"Don't make me jump you, bitch,"

"I honestly wouldn't com- oof!"

Before Eijirou could finish his sentence, he only just managed to catch you when you pounced at him without remorse. Luckily he just managed to protect himself and readjusted your intended position, victoriously smirking up at you and pointing a finger.

"Hah! Not this time!"

"I hate you sometimes,"

"No, you don't. You love me,"

"I swear to god -," You let out, arms crossing over your chest. Eijirou had sat you on top of him, legs on either side of him as he remained under the covers. "Can I please just have my skirt back?"

"You mean the one that's under the sheets by my feet?" He blankly stated, letting his hands rest themselves on your hips quite comfortably. He couldn't help but laugh at your less than amused expression.

"Why can't you just let me get ready?"

"I'm not stopping you... I'm just making it more difficult,"

"Educate me on how?"

"Well the only way to get your skirt is to get back into bed... and if you get back into bed I'm not letting you get back out,"

"You're really being this persistent, hm?"

"Maybe a little more than intended,"

You hopelessly sighed, looking at the ceiling with a mental cry of both impatience and leisure. The inner want to go to your wardrobe and pull out a fresh skirt was the easy way out, yes, but the temptation of the game Eijirou intended to play was getting to you more than expected. That and you knew he wouldn't let you simply get off him, the grip on your waist not only implying endearing affection.

Eijirou raised his voice, reeling you back to his attention. Despite your annoyance, you did make an effort to admire his features. From his loose hair to his fixed jawline where the tint of a smirk riddled with confidence rested. The pretty glow in his carmine gaze drew you in each time without a fault. He was so undeniably attractive, no doubt about it.

"You know what sounds fun?"

"What?" Partly having a sense of what was to leave his lips.

"If you...," He paused as he subtly cocked his head at you. "Stayed in bed and cuddled with me all morning," Another pause. "Because I haven't seen you in four or five days and I miss you,"

"But we watched a movie and spent some time together last night knowing I was going out today,"

"Yeah but... you're cute on a morning,"

"Opposed to other times when I'm not?" It was Eijirou's turn to send you a little glare in protest before he returned to his pleading nature.

"You're cute all the time,"

Yet another few seconds of quiet.

"Just - stay with me today? And do your meeting-thingy tomorrow?"

"You, Eijirou Kirishima, are going to be the death of me," Leaning down to rest your forehead on Eijirou's shoulder whilst releasing a long groan from the back of your throat. Maybe not so great of an idea since that allowed him to wrap you right into his grasp, you held yourself there briefly as he allowed his fingertips to mess with your hair.

"Probably," Eijirou mumbled softly, tilting his head against yours as he once again let his touch wander. The unexpected cuddle definitely didn't go unnoticed as you pondered in your position, practically ready to fall asleep when Eijirou started to rub up and down your back. Like a moth to a flame, he had you wrapped around his finger, knowing that in the end, he was always going to get his own way. Of course, in other circumstances, he'd usually let you win. But not when it came to morning cuddles.

Definitely not when it came to morning cuddles.

As if waiting for you to talk, Eijirou stared into your strands of H/C hair whilst inhaling the scent of coconut from the shampoo you used the evening prior. He expectantly caressed your hip, his final attempt to win you over confidently coming to a climax at the word that exited your mouth.

"Fine,"

You could practically feel the smirk against the back of your head as Eijirou's touch became all the more prominent and rewarding. He let one of his arms extend out to grab your phone, handing it over to you as you hesitantly sat up with a hotness to your cheeks and found the contact of your workplace.

Eijirou simply watched you the whole time, taking you all in like he was casting gaze upon you for the first time. No matter how many times that happened, he still managed to find you all the more beautiful. He ran a hand through his flattened hair and exhaled merrily as he let your voice sink into his ears, watching the smile on your face grow as you caught him looking.

"Yeah - Again, I'm really sorry I can't make it, Eijirou caught something whilst working and he's bound to the bed cause' of it," You held up crossed fingers in hopes you wouldn't sound like you were lying, glancing at your boyfriend who appeared to chuckle.

And yet again your lie went unnoticed. The call was over in seconds, tossing your phone to the empty side of the bed.

"Why'd you say I was sick?"

"Because if I said it was me they'd probably ask about the last time you forced me to stay off, and how often I'm apparently unwell,"

"Right,"

"But, it looks like you got your way," You said, going to change out the white shirt to put your pyjama shirt back on, placing the work clothes to the bottom of the bed as Eijirou waited patiently.

"Come," Was all he said once you looked back at him, opening his arms for you to sink into. Which you did, reaching that comfortable position within his grasp as though you belonged there. Except this time, Eijirou directed your face towards his, pulling your lips to his in one smooth addicting manner that you felt butterflies in your stomach for.

In the meantime your drinks were disregarded as the clock ticked on, the pair of you forgetting their presence on the bedside table. The steam soon dissipated to nothing the cooler the fluids got.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you,"

He could sense the smile that formed on your lips.

"I love you too,"

[egelantier]

disco elysium

i fall into a proper gaming binge every half a year or so, and then forget that computers games exist altogether. my last bout of addiction was hades, a gorgeous roguelite about trying to get out of the underworld and dealing with family, bigger on the inside than it seemed outside. now i've spent a week headfirst into the beautiful madness of disco elysium, and i'm nowhere close to done. middle of the second playthrough, at least a couple more ahead, maybe three, maybe five - this kind of not closer to be done. finally, almost a decade later, there's a spiritual successor to planescape: torment, perfect, unique and compelling like nothing else. i'm head over heels in love.

(and a note: it's very much a game that can and should be played by non-gamers. it's a true click-and-pointer; the entirety of its action happens through dialogue. give it a try.)

in disco elysium, your character wakes up in an absolutely trashed hotel room, coming off a bender of epic proportions, fucked up beyond recognition, and fully amnesiac. it turns out you're visiting a (very much not) sunny town of revachol, a slowly decaying remnant of revolution and consequent war, and, well. you're a cop, and you're here to investigate a murder. namely, a murder of somebody whose dead body is still hanged in the backyard…

this is a horrendous mess, and you are a horrendous mess - bloated, amnesiac, confused, weird, pathetic, with a host of warring impulses and demands fighting for space in your head - but thankfully there's a pillar of stability and light in your dark world, waiting just downstairs: lieutenant kim katsuragi, your assigned partner from another station, a man with godlike sense of dignity and practically endless amount of quiet patience for your bullshit. together with him, you can investigate a crime, try to stop a small civil war, solve a couple of questions of the universe, and maybe, if you play your cards just once, dance a truly epic dance together in a shot-up church. there are also cryptids, karaoke, board games, collecting bottles for money, a mystery of a crashed police car, discovering your own feelings about the homo-sexual underground, and many, many other things.

(the gameplay: you have four sets of stats (intellect, sensitivity, physicality, interacting with objects) and, depending on how you distribute them, you play a wildly different character every time. there's no way to fail: your detective can be dumb as a bag of rocks but able to get by on intuition and muscle memory, or smart and horrible with people, or empathetic and weak, or - the combinations are endless. the game is conducted via a combination of red stat checks that you can do only once, and white checks that you can try, fail, up your stats and retry again. aside from a handful of cases, a lot of time it's easier - and funnier - to accept failures rather than try for a perfect go every time. you are a hot mess, after all. there are ten game days, a variety of sidequests and tasks, and almost endless variability in how you approach them. everything is connected, except for that one door.)

(there's also a political system, where you eventually pick up your political affiliation: a communist, a libertarian, a fascist, and a wishy-washy uncommitted liberal. the game has a lot of things to tell you about all your choices, most of them funny, some of them horrendous. there's no innocence here, and no way to weasel out of the consequences of your worldview; and you could also see that it was done by eastern europe people.)

and the thing is. the thing is, it's very much the kind of a game where you perform a field autopsy on a three days old corpse while a couple of preteen kids are watching avidly and offering their color commentary, and at some point you have to rummage in the corpse's mouth and feel its brain stem. a lot of very, very bad things happen or happened - to you, to the people around you, to the town around you, to the world around you. where in fallout you rolled into town with your stats jacked high and your blaster in hand, and solved ancient disputes and established peace, here the weight of the history is very, very heavy, and you're very, very small. you can't solve the decades of violence and war and trauma and colonization and poverty with the power of your save-scumming and pithy one liners, alas; but you can solve a murder. you can help a sweet and worried old woman. you can put your cheek to a kid's fuzzy plush toy, when offered. you can tell a person, gently, that their loved one is dead, and lie about how drunk they were when they did that. you can replace a taxidermied bird you broke. you can sit on the swing with your partner, waiting for the low tide, and whistle together - two birds on the wire…

it's the gentlest, kindest, sweetest, most hopeful game i've seen in the last decade. it's a goddamn manifesto to human spirit, and to how only - well, love - holds the world, always falling apart, together. a huge part of it is your relationship with kim, because believe me, whoever you are, most of your playthrough would be dedicated to chasing kim's approval and to winning his trust. but it also sneaks into all the cases, all the dialogues, all the little throwaway details. everybody is human; everybody is awful; everybody is holy, even you. oh, even you.

(there are storylines you can or can not discover. about why harry is such a mess - and it's awful and i loved how it was done, with empathy and grace and no judgement; about the state of the world, a bit of eldritch horror so throwaway and beautiful i would read entire volumes just about that; about the city of locusts; about a small girls' memory of playing in the reeds; about the scar of the revolution. suliram, ram, ram…)

(it's also brilliantly, awfully, absurdly, hysterically funny. Art Cop run alone makes me just about die. every failure is funnier than the other. you can be as weird as you want to - in fact, the game encourages you to be as weird as you want to be - and the world around will react accordingly, outperforming you in sheer absurdity. there's a war-and-peace sized amount of dialogue and description in the game, and it's written by some damn genius of pratchettian caliber.)

and, and and. honestly, the best way to get sucked into this game is not reviews, it's random quotes and screenshots, out -of-context spoilers - it's more or less impossible to resist. but please, oh please, give it a try.

>Someone's been walking around in your dreams lately, looking for something. Tidying up, rearranging. Storing away all the unrealized dreams, putting old pains in boxes. The worst nightmares have settled down for a while. A spot of light on the bedroom door after the dark. The fluttering of eyelids in the spring sun. A thought that arises, only to disappear again. And yet there's a pattern emerging…

>What if you didn’t lose your memory? What if something in Martinaise came and stored it all away. For you to slowly open one box at a time. So you can choose which parts to keep. Keep almost none of it. Only the flowers on the windowsill. Only the distant sound of a radio. Lose all the actors, the dark shadows, leave only the still lifes, the blissful distant wash of waves. If everybody knew -- you never did. She’ll be coming soon. That is all.

[dorminchu]

ALL THESE THINGS THAT I'VE DONE

The war against Paradis is over. Eren and Annie are forced to confront their mortality in a world that seems to have no need of them, and their significance to each other. [Post-Canon]

I didn't know there was an ereani week this year until a couple days ago, but I figured: cool, I should probably post something. Title comes from the track of the same name by The Killers.

The prompt is: Day 3 (4/12): "I love you" / "I loved you"

[Ao3 | FFNet]

i.

When the war was over, it was Armin who took the glory. That was a new look for him, Eren thought. Smart but eternally overlooked until he inherited the role of the Colossus Titan. Willing to carry the burden of humanity's savior without much complaint, unlike his teenage self who had always been plagued by doubts and fears. Eren wouldn't have thought Armin would be ready to chew the bullet while he quietly slipped into the background—but he was the leader, and Eren had always been accustomed to his status of figurehead.

Their roles had inverted with age.

As part of an overarching deal with Queen Historia, Eren was granted quarters—a cabin ten miles from the border of what had once been Wall Rose—and a modest pension, as long as he held his tongue and did not make any attempt to intercept the negotiations between Paradis and the surrounding countries. Eren put in an application for professor at the local military academy and spent the days trying to record what he could remember of his experiences in Marley.

The cabin had been around since the start of the war. About ten or so miles from the nearest village. Perhaps even before Eren was born, when Paradis was just a penal colony in name and the boundaries on inhabitable territory were less strict. The pipes still worked and there was evidence of an outhouse as well as quarters for a small animal—he wondered if it had been a hunter’s lodge.

After growing up in the back end of Shiganshina for the first nine years of his life and living in barracks and halfway houses for the next ten, it was a lot quieter. He felt oftentimes as if he were on a permanent state of leave, awaiting orders that would never come. There was so much time to fritter away now, without a war on the backburner.

ii.

In a bid to lessen the severity of his scarring, Eren tried growing a beard. He couldn't sprout a full one like Zeke could, just the chin-hairs, an innate reminder of his days in Marley. Most often he kept his hair pulled back in a short ponytail or else cut it short in the warmer seasons, though never as short as it had been in his days of adolescence.

He'd regenerated his leg and other limbs since the ceasefire, regained his motor functions in a week-long, agonsing process that he was sure Hanji would've loved had she been alive to witness it—but a day or so after settling into the cabin the old pain was flaring up again. He had a vivid memory of asking Commander Hanji once, at seventeen, after exhausting his father’s journal, but the only conclusion either of them could come up was phantom pain. Even if he were whole and unmarred, he did not anticipate sleep as any source of relief. Colours in his right eye gradually turned dull and it was getting harder to read even by candlelight, disorienting to walk out into harsh sunlight. Eventually he just began wearing a patch for the sake of simplicity. His other eye was unaffected.

He could still remember Ramzi's face better than most of his dead Scouts and it kept him up at night for hours. His way of life—the Titans, ODM gear—was quickly being phased out, trading blades and canisters for rifles and ammunition. His place among the armistice seemed moot.

Eren thought more often of his father. He did not wish to, explicitly, but the memories of him that popped into his head were usually indecipherable and triggered by stress.

The doctors in Marley would define this as shellshock. Other times they left impressions like the outline of the sun under closed eyelids; warmth, family, agony, guilt that would eat away at him for the rest of his remaining life.

Eren was, at least, confident in the fact that he was nothing like his father. He didn't pretend he was doing anything morally righteous, nor had he allowed himself to be molded into a pariah like Zeke. He had only accomplished what those same men were afraid or unable to do. It was nothing to crow about. He did not blame Zeke for that upbringing. Eren had taken action, knowing he would be hated and feared by his own comrades. He could only leave behind his memories in print, and if by some Godforsaken chance they somehow managed to fall into the hands of a like-minded company—well, perhaps one day he would be understood or misconstrued further. Rotting in the ground he could not defend his truth or bias.

But while he was alive, he could not rest. He knew better than most that all of this was fleeting.

It wasn’t as though he was out of shape with all the walking. He still stuck to drills in the morning to keep himself busy; awaiting orders that would never come. It sounded like something Armin might say. But Armin was content to busy himself with the sons and brothers of deceased bureaucrats; the succeeding generation to the brilliant men and women who'd led them right into the mouths of hell and out again.

Commander Hanji was dead. Commander Irvin had been dead four years now. Captain Levi was on his way to retirement and attempting to get Mikasa to replace him.

After seven years of military service his soldier’s inclinations remained unshakeable. He'd wake up every morning, going through the motions as though he were still a stowaway in Marley. He'd never allowed himself to consider a life beyond the pretext of enlistment and eventual expiration within the Scouting Regiment, much less the seemingly endless war between Paradis and the rest of the world. In the best case he had assumed he would die eventually, of old age or a more unheroic death out in the field. He'd never allowed himself to be ruled by that fear of mortality because he had to eradicate the Titans first—it was a child’s logic that had gotten him through military academy. Yet here he was, nineteen, with four going-on three years left to kill. Annie had three, going-on two. That was the only certainty she'd admitted to him without need for prying.

So Eren had to be sharp for the rest of their sakes. The war on Paradis had ended and brought with it economic turmoil. A mourning period that seemed to extend indefinitely. The next decade of prosperity would not be won in a year, nor three, and it would come on the backs of the losing side and breed the same old resentment, and then inevitably the same slow descent towards outrage and madness and oppression. Always in the back of his mind like the learnt urge to drink, or his inherited memories—he could almost convince himself of his hard-won stability. It was a good enough reason as any to stop answering Mikasa's letters.

iii.

The door opened to reveal the very last person he had ever expected to see again. She was every bit the woman he had seen in Marley and little of the girl in the crystal remained. What could he say to a four-year old crush-turned-heartbreak whose face he could scarcely recall among the hundreds of thousands of other casualties? "You shouldn't have come back."

When he moved to close the door, she stopped him with her heel. "I'm no longer a Warrior, nor a soldier. I have nowhere else to turn. You and I understand each other, so there's no point in bloodshed."

He gauged this, chewing his tongue. "Did someone send you?"

Her shoulders stiffened. "No one you'd know."

"I suppose you were sent here to finish the job for Marley?"

"No." Bluntly, she forced herself into the doorway. "I came here on my own. I just—"

"—all right, it seems like there's been some kind of miscommunication between you and whoever sent you."

"I was told you'd be able to accommodate me." 

"I don't need anyone else here."

Annie squinted at him. Her hand was clenched tightly on the doorjamb. "You must get bored living up in the mountains. And you could use another pair of hands if you're not regenerating." Eren said nothing. "Did you carve your eye out again?"

"Goddamn you," he growled, and wrenched the door open.

He let her walk past the threshold. Looked at her once, and then away. "I'll set a place aside for you to sleep," indicating a well-worn sofa, "you can stay as long as you need to until you find somewhere you like."

"I don't know why you're so upset. You could have killed me years ago. You've had every opportunity, and yet—"

"—I've moved on." He said it flatly, almost resigned. "You haven't, obviously."

Annie didn't flinch. "So you're just going to stay here and wait to die?"

"I keep myself busy."

"What do you do?"

"I teach the new cadets over at the Academy. It's about two hours from where we are; nothing special, but they seem eager to learn."

"I see."

He turned finally to face her. "What about you?"

Annie hesitated. "Used to work with the other displaced soldiers up until a few days ago."

"How'd that treat you?"

"It was all right. Why, are you too good for it now, now that you're a war hero?"

Eren ignored the barb. "It's been a while since everything settled down, so I wondered how you would fare."

"What, so you just popped up in this house?"

He scoffed. "Of course not. There was a tribunal, and it was decided to let me live on the condition I'd be kept far away where I wouldn't bother with anyone. I can't say the same for the others."

"You sold them out?"

He chuckled. "I didn't have to say much. They did it to themselves. We shared a common goal at one point but never the same ideology. At the very least, I can say I took no pleasure in what I—"

"—Ackermann gave you an out?"

Eren gauged the sharpness in her tone, the stiffness of her posture. "I didn't ask her to." He frowned. "You never told me how you got here. Did Mikasa have something to do with this?"

Annie froze, then averted her eyes. "I didn't have much of a choice. It was either come here or work myself to death doing manual labor. I wouldn't have minded that."

"Why didn't you tell me that she sent you?"

"I don't know. She seemed to pity you."

"Oi, it's not your fault. She can feel however she wants." He sounded bemused, scowling. "What the hell else she she think I'm going to do in four years? I have no plans to start another war."

Annie finally eyed him in her peripherals. "We didn't talk much other than that."

Within the next few hours he'd gotten a few more details out of her. In exchange for agreeing to be quartered here, her record was wiped clean. She had recently reapplied for the MP brigade under a new name and secured a position as secretary in the Karanese district headquarters. She had also admitted to him that she was dying to get back onto the streets again.

As a bedfellow Annie was, in some ways, more than he could've hoped for. Despite the introduction, she talked far less than they had as cadets. She did not seem particularly happy or unhappy, just neutral. She woke up each morning at six hours and left to do her drills. She would come back in an hour and offer to help him with whatever menial tasks needed doing, as if they really were holed up together in the remnants of a cabin lost ten years ago to a threat that would live on in sordid, haunting memory. The kind of life one would find beyond the realm of a weathered photograph. 

Unobtrusive without becoming idyllic. The best outcome he could afford her was three years of uneventful domesticity.

They didn't spar anymore. Not for lack of want, or kicking the habit. Eren just couldn't keep up with her the way he used to. His leg was shaky and she pointed it out first. It would have an impact on the kind of punishment he could take as opposed to when he was fifteen and shrugged off every injury like it was nothing. His eye was not healing. 

Annie was in better condition. Just by studying her gait it was obvious that she'd taken better care of herself. She had not had to bunk up with a gang of stinking, vulnerable soldiers riddled by shellshock. Trying to communicate with them in German worked, but it got him a lot of funny looks and no end of comparisons to fathers and grandfathers enlisted or long since dead.

Annie wasn't interested in his stories from Marley but she didn't brush him off either. She just tolerated it in a much more polite way than Mikasa or Armin would.

At twenty years old she came up to his chest. Either the crystallization had stunted her growth or she was naturally short. She was also scarred enough down her face but it was of the same sheer consistency as her hair. You would only know what she was if you were paying close attention.

She got skittish and temperamental if he tried to push his luck training with her. Initially it had pissed him off:

"What do you think I'm going to do?"

She'd looked at him bluntly. "You're still recovering. Why overexert yourself?"

He'd never told her about his injuries but the idea of her picking up on it this quickly rankled for reasons he did not care to discuss. "I'm not a kid."

Something flashed in her eyes. "I'm not going to push you."

And that was the end of it. He'd decided that this ritual mattered more to her than him, and respected her space. He still did his own drills.

But every time they locked eyes now he'd get that same, absurd itch in the back of his mind from a year ago. Sharpened his tongue and made him want to speak in ways he didn't think he should attempt to justify whilst sober.

iv.

Days passed. He did not always see her until late in the evening.

In the middle of the night he rolled over onto his bad leg and the pain woke him. In silence he got up, not enough to require medication but still pretty uncomfortable.

“Eren?”

He went still. Annie was up herself, over by the window, staring at him as though he were on his deathbed. In the low light her eyes looked strange and luminous. “Does it hurt?”

“Does—what?”

“Your leg.”

Eren sat up slowly as not to aggravate his condition. She didn't say anything else. “It’s not so bad that I can’t sleep.” He studied her face for signs of age, finding naught but scars, a weariness in her eyes he could speak to. She didn't frown. She just watched him coolly. Eren shrugged. “You can’t sleep either?" No answer. "Thinking about to-morrow?”

“I can get you something for it.”

Eren shook his head. “That's not necessary."

"Don't be stupid."

"This isn't something I can just take pills for.”

"It's chronic." Her tone pregnant with incredulity. "Why haven't you seen a doctor for this?"

"Annie, what the hell is a regular doctor gonna do for either of us? We already fix ourselves. There are other veterans that have been stranded here, they aren't growing their limbs back. They need all the help they can get. Anyway, it's only, what, three more years of living? I can take three. Fuck, I've taken ten."

The more he kept talking, the darker her eyes became. Clench in her jaw, tautness of her shoulders, pronounced enough to notice from a distance—an involuntary reflection of his own revulsion.

"I don't know how you managed to win one war, let alone, if you can't even prevent yourself from running into the ground." Her voice was icy and distinctly contemptuous. She stalked over to him. Cold fingers dug into the meat of his naked shoulder, pushed him upright between the wall and headboard; tight, controlled movements. "Four years later and you still want to pretend you're a fucking martyr. It might've worked on Mikasa, but I'm not your sister. I'm not going to help you hurt yourself."

She kneaded at his leg in a much brusquer way than the way the orderlies in Marley. Eren didn't argue. She was not going to take no for an answer. When it was done she coaxed him to lie down again. He stiffened as he felt her weight join his on the mattress, curled almost tentatively against his chest. She didn’t try to hold him, just huddled as though for warmth. She did not explain herself.

Eren had a vague recollection of the last time this had happened. Back then she came up to his chin, rather than the middle of his chest; their disparity was only thrown into relief. He could feel the human warmth of her through the thin undershirt, the softness of her hair on his cheek. He’d dreamt about this a lot when he was sixteen, while the tragedy of her betrayal was no longer fresh but still painful in his mind. He had no energy left to hate her then, for she was not his enemy.

He heard her breathing even out.

She had stayed this long. There was no sense in abandoning her now.

v.

Sometime after that, Eren started noticing her in more tangible ways. Smell of her hair. The subtle glint in her eyes in lieu of a smile. She'd wait up for him in the mornings before he left. He'd tell her good-bye.

When he came home he’d catch her eyes lingering on him in profile.

Just one day too many of the same quiet inactivity. The fact that they had slept in the same bed was just a catalyst of how familiar they were with each other already.

She woke up an hour later than usual and, fuming, went out to train. A light rain had started. Eren made breakfast. Over the next twenty minutes the light sheet became much more torrential. Annie came back in about half-an-hour, dripping water all over the floor. He would've told her off but she grabbed his wrist. He turned as she leant up and took his face in her hands and kissed him like her life depended on it.

Maybe the situation had always been building to this. He had forgotten about its immediacy until the moment presented itself. But now there was nothing left to say. So he gathered her up and placed her on the counter, kissing her breathless, bunching up her threadbare shirt, palming her tits through the military-issue brassiere—he muttered, "see, I thought you were just being nice," and she scoffed, set her heel to the small of his back even as he put his mouth on her. She was chilled from the rain; it was not yet summer. Half-dressed and needy, he took her right there on the countertop. Afterwards, there was no shame or lingering uncertainty that would have been present as cadets. She pressed her cheek to his.

"I'm going to be away for a while. It's higher pay if I stay in Karanese. Maybe two or three weeks." She looked up at him. Her eyes were bright but her tone was stoic. "I just…" She trailed off because he was only looking at her face. Eren smoothed her damp hair away from her cheek.

"I love you." Then he stopped. Like he was finally coming to grips with the idea. Annie blinked rapidly. A crease formed in her brow. Her mouth worked but no sound came out. Eren kissed her chin. "But, if you're gonna be trackin' mud everywhere you'd best clean it up after yourself."

She finally came back to herself. Shoved him lightly in the chest. "Fuck off." Then hoisted herself off the counter, fixed her trousers, and asked in a dry voice where he kept the washbasin.

vi.

On his own the cabin felt distinctly empty. Sometimes he'd wake up hard and just—take care of it. Annie on top of him. On her knees. Pulling him up to her. He missed her a lot more than he'd care to admit to her face and it wasn't just in the sense that she was available. She'd probably just smirk at him anyway.

But when she returned it was nice to have her around, even for a little while. She kept to herself and he gave her space; it was as though she had never left.

It was still morning. He was working when he felt her come up behind him, hands slipping over his wrists. “Oi,” he muttered, “I’m a little busy.”

“You’re just sitting there.”

He scoffed. “Really? How would you know what I’m doin’?” No answer. Eren closed the book. “You really are demanding, ain’t you?” Faux-annoyance. But he turned.

She looked prettier in uniform. Hair pulled back into less of a bun, more of a severe ponytail. She was looking him up and down as though deciding something for herself.

She leant down, kissed him firmly, nipping at his lip until went with it, half-amused. She stepped back, breathing evenly, eyes glinting. She cupped his face, a vestige of tenderness he did not anticipate.

Then her eyes shifted, something empty, strange. A harsh crack against his jaw he could not anticipate and he took it, worked his jaw, blinking rapidly. “What the hell are you—?”

Annie jerked her head back slightly, fixing him with the same expectance he realised he’d completely misinterpreted. “Hit me.”

Eren didn’t move. Her jaw trembled, then set. He caught her wrist. “That’s enough.”

“Why?” She sounded annoyed. “It’s all right. I can take it.”

“What is this?”

“I’ll be dead before you anyway, it would be easier just to take—”

“—I said that’s enough,” he said, terse. “I’m not going to do anything to you."

Her brow furrowed. "I thought you understood.”

Eren just stared, fighting to keep himself calm when he wanted to grab her shoulders and demand her to justify why the hell she wanted to be hit. "What am I supposed to understand?"

Annie’s eyes darted over his face and then to his wrist. “I want you to hit me back.”

“I’m not going to do that.” He cupped her jaw and she almost flinched; his stomach twisted. “Do you understand me?“

Silence built up between them. "I know you’d stop if I asked you to.”

“I’m not going to wait until after I’ve hurt you to stop.”

Annie pressed her face into his chest. He took her by the shoulders, watching her stiffen.

“Do you hear me?”

She nodded.

"Why d'you want me to hit you?"

"Do you want a list?" He gripped her tight enough to make her flinch and immediately regretted the look of fear that came across her face. He let go of her. "I’ve been complicit in the death of your comrades.” Her voice thickened. “And I’ve taught you everything I know. You don't need me here for anything other than your own gratification.” Returning to the facade of impassivity with unnerving ease. “So, there’s no point in comparing our tallies.”

“Annie—"

“Are you stupid?” Annie spat, the most emotion she had exhibited thus far. “You've taken my country and my life and my father and you—now you want me to love you back. You want to marry me as if we're ever going to—I'm the one who killed your friends, why would you ever want to be reminded of—"

"You love me." She looked helpless in her vulnerability. "What? What's the matter?"

"Why would you want me? I—I can't even have children. I'm going to die in four years. I'm going to watch you die unless I kill myself fir—"

"—Annie—"

"—you could fuck anyone you wanted!" she exploded. "Why does it have to be me?"

"Because you don’t have to earn anything from me! I just want to be around you—can’t you accept that?”

Annie kissed him hard. He trembled though he was holding her.

“Take me to bed." Eren opened his mouth and she kissed his chin. “I want you to take me to bed. I—”

Even then, he was hesitant to touch her. She led the way, stripping down to skin and splaying on his bed. He caressed her when she asked him to, a gentleness in his hands that betrayed his own sympathy; for once she didn’t chastise him.

Her scarring was far more pronounced in the light. He'd noticed before, briefly on the counter and more clearly with enough attention, but not like this. It clustered around her sternum and down her spine. He wondered, briefly, if that was why she'd wanted to do it quickly. Now her eyes were bright and shimmering but she took him into her, reached for him.

"Is this OK?" His voice was a croak.

Her eyes flickered to him. Cautious, sure. "Yeah."

He was on his knees, lifting the small of her back, working her towards a much sweeter surrender. He slid one arm around her waist to support her and touched her breasts, the side of her neck, cupping her jaw. His thumb ran over her scarring.

“Annie.” She gasped at the sound of her name. “Ann. Look. Come here.” She was biting her lip. Head fallen back, her hair was almost diaphanous in the light. He murmured her name and she was shivering with emotion. She turned into her elbow and told him in an unsteady voice to go faster, and the bed creaked to match him.

Her body arched, jaw slack. She wouldn't stop shivering. Her voice did not rise in expectation. It just wavered, edgeless.

He took her wrist away from her face and—she flinched. This serrated, ugly, sound that jerked out of her body. He pulled out, holding her. “Look at me,” his voice hoarse and horrified, “please.”

Annie curled up against his chest and shook. Eren just kept apologizing. She didn't push him away.

Eventually she stopped. Raised her head. Their eyes met and she lost composure again. He brushed her hair from her face. “Stay,” she croaked, “please. I need you.”

He kissed her brow. She almost flinched. He tucked his chin into her shoulder, arms around her back, until she’d calmed down.

"You don't have to do anything," he said quietly. "Do you understand that?"

"I know."

Laying prone, she only came up to his sternum. Annie sat up first. She got to her feet and went over to the window. Her shoulder was parallel to the glass. His attention stayed firmly on her profile. “You’re gonna get colder than hell. Come back here.”

She turned and glanced at his forearm curled half-surreptitiously against his stomach. Scar tissue along her breasts was prominent. In the dead light of this cloudy, April afternoon she finally looked her age.

There was a naked uncertainty in her eyes that made him freeze. "You're not my father and you never will be. You've been kinder towards me than I deserve, given the circumstances. I wish I could despise you."

Eren rolled his shoulders. The silence held for a while. "I don't know if what either of us have done can be forgiven. But, as long as you’re here, I want you to know that I don't hate you." All she did was stare, a slight crease in her brow. “I never could.”

“You love me,” she said. Not with scorn. Like she was testing the idea in a way they would have shied away from as kids. She averted her face towards the window.

She watched him get up and tensed. He limped towards her in a couple strides and draped the blanket around her shoulders with the same tentativeness. She did not put her arms around him. She pressed her face into his shoulder. His arm came around her back and she closed her eyes, just existing in the cold slats of wood against her feet and the rise and fall of his breast.

He put the blankets around her and laid beside her.

He’d always supposed he would heal with enough rest. He didn't know how to put what he felt into words, but eloquence had never been his forte. It was not unlike laying on your deathbed, mulling over all the things that hardly seemed to matter until there was no time left to spare.

There was no pain now, just certainty in the presence of another—the old urge to drink was absent.

This is a cleaned-up version of a couple tumblr WIPs + some old/new material blended in for fun. Think of it as a pilot episode for a much larger fic.

For what it's worth I did like the ending of AoT. Elements of that ending will likely factor into the aforementioned larger fic. I am totally disinterested in arguing about ships or wasted potential—at this point, I’d rather write whatever seems interesting, and leave it at that, canon or not.

And hey, if you think acknowledging canon will override my crippling addiction to the "morally challenged antihero/problematic blonde" dynamic… I really don't see that happening. Even after exiting this fandom, it's like, ALL I've been writing for a year (looking at YOU Insult to Injury) and I feel like I'm going insane. Back on topic though: Now that AoT has concluded, I find I am far less stressed at the prospect for writing for this series again. It won’t be my main focus, but I do like this fic’s concept enough to flesh it out.

[laprincesaelena]

EOA Ship Appreciation Week Day 5: Meeting/Farewell

a/n: hi guys! thank you all so much for the positive feedback on my day 4 poem, i’m so glad everyone liked it!! as i said, i know every ship wasn’t included, i ended up having enough time to only do the ones that were requested! but, i’d definitely consider making a part 2, so if your ship wasn’t included this time, it may be another time..

anyways, on to day 5! you may notice i included both prompts here instead of just one..you’ll find out why ;) this story is inspired by an au @procrastinateland (s/o for the beautiful art once again!!!) i came up with together, based on the sound of music! but, this fic in particular doesn’t have much to do with the musical you probably know. my obsession besides elena this summer was researching the lives of the real von trapps who inspired the movie and musical, and through it, i found the adorable love story of the parents of the seven children (georg and agathe, maria wasn’t in the picture yet!) that i knew would be so sweet for gabelena. so that’s what this fic is inspired by! quick historical note, the events that this fic portrays happened in real life in 1910 and 1922, but the years have been switched to 1912 and 1930 for the au, since we decided to place our au closer to the movie’s timeline than the real story. also hi please talk to me about the von trapps i’ve been driving my gf crazy with my useless knowledge lmaooo

and that’s about it! hope you all enjoy this, and let me know what you think!

fic is below the cut!

February 10th, 1912

Lieutenant Gabriel Núñez was amazed as he entered the venue of tonight's celebratory ball, Villa Castillo. He had never been inside a home so grand before, he almost felt as if he didn't deserve to be there. But, regardless, he was invited to attend, along with all of his friends from the navy. He couldn't wait to get away from the structure and seriousness of the military for a night, and to just have fun.

This was the first ball Gabe had been invited to since he became a lieutenant, or ever for that matter, and he was loving it. It was hosted by the Castillo Flores family, a rich family whose inventions had earned them quite the fortune over the past century. As more guests began to make their arrivals, Gabe and his friends hung around together, mingling with other guests or testing out a drink or two. Then, the ball was to officially begin with a musical performance by the hosts.

Now, Gabe wasn't much of a believer of love at first sight, but with one glance, his mind was instantly changed. Standing beside her mother and grandparents, ready to perform their opening song, stood the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and Gabe knew he was in love. Sure, he knew he had no chance with her, as he was just a lieutenant from a humble family of bakers. She was the daughter of a rich family, and most likely the heir to their fortunes. But, there was no harm in trying, right? He knew that at some point tonight, he just had to talk to this beautiful girl.

Elena Castillo Flores, however, was different. She wholeheartedly believed in chance of falling in love at first sight, but she never thought it would happen to her. She had grown up around these balls, her family had been hosting them for as long as she could remember. And being 17, she had met plenty of men who hoped to marry into her family's fortune, but none of them seemed quite right. That was, until she was about to perform with her family.

She looked out into the crowd, and caught the eye of a handsome naval officer. She smiled softly in his direction, but didn't have time to do anything else, before she picked up her guitar, and began to perform alongside her mother and grandparents.

Gabe couldn't help but keep his eye on this girl the entire time she performed. She was a beautiful singer and guitarist, and Gabe loved hearing every word she sang, and each note she strummed. Before he could snap out of his romantic trance, the performance had ended. Gabe looked up to the stage to see if he could approach the girl, but she her family had left the stage, and were out of sight. So, it was back to just talking with his friends for now. Maybe a good laugh or two could keep his mind off of this girl. In between their backgrounds and the chances that she would choose him out of many much more qualified suitors, Gabe had a feeling this crush was bound to end in disappointment. 

Eventually, Gabe stepped away to go and get his mind off things, but as he was walking, he accidentally bumped into someone. He was about to apologize, but when the person he had bumped into turned to look at him, he realized who he had bumped into: the host's daughter.

Finding his voice again, he said, "I-I'm so sorry for bumping into you, I should have been watching where I was going."

Every once in a while, as she sang and played her guitar, Elena would look out at the man she had seen earlier. He was quite handsome, and she couldn't help but notice the way he smiled at her. But, once the performance was over, she wasn't going to go looking for him. She knew it'd probably be hard to find him in such a big group. Besides, he was probably going to turn out to be like any other man she'd met, and would only take interest in the prospect of inheriting her family's money. So, she carried on with her night, accepting that she'd probably never see him again. That was, until someone bumped into her. When she looked at the person she bumped into, she couldn't help but freeze, it was the lieutenant she had seen earlier. He was the one to speak first, which snapped her back into reality.

“Oh no, no, it's okay! You're fine!" she assured him.

"Oh, alright" Gabe said. He mentally hit himself for not saying more than he did, but whenever he looked at her, he was at a loss for words. He could at least introduce himself, he thought, but every time he did, the words would be at the edge of his tongue, and he'd end up saying nothing. But, he was determined not to blow the only chance he'd ever have with her, so, he gathered up his courage to speak to her once again.

Elena too, would be so, so close to saying something, even just introducing herself, but before the words could come out, she'd freeze. She so desperately wanted to get to know him better, and she knew the only way to do so was to just say something. But, luckily for her, he said something first.

"This has been a wonderful ball so far." Gabe finally said.

"Oh, well, thank you.." Elena replied with a smile. "I'm glad you're enjoying it so far."

"I am" Gabe said, returning the smile. Finally, he decided, he was actually going to introduce himself. "I'm Lieutenant Gabriel Núñez," he said. "but you can call me Gabe."

Elena quietly sighed with relief, she was glad he introduced himself first, it gave her the confidence to do the same. "I'm Elena Castillo Flores," she introduced. "but you can just call me Elena."

"It's very nice to meet you, miss Elena," Gabe replied, with a bow of his head to her.

"It's very nice to meet you too, lieutenant," Elena responded. "Oh, I mean Gabe, it's nice to meet you too, Gabe." she added, and shook her head at herself. Hopefully she didn't blow her chance with him right then and there.

Gabe smiled and laughed softly, he couldn't help but fall deeper in love with the girl the longer he talked to her. He had managed to find her, talk to her, and introduce himself, but there was one more step with her he wanted to take.

"I hope this isn't too soon, but would you like to dance?" he asked.

Elena's face now lit up with a smile, it most certainly wasn't too soon, she was so excited he asked her to dance with him! She nodded, and held out her hand to him. "I would love to dance," she said.

Gabe took her hand with a smile, and lead her to the center of the ballroom. With one of his hands tightly in the grasp of hers, his other hand wrapped around her waist, the two began their first dance.

As the pair glided effortlessly across the floor, Elena still couldn't believe that this was happening. How did she ever get so lucky? But, she also knew that there was a possibility that he might have happened to only attend this ball, and she may never see him again. She truly hoped this wasn't the case, she wanted to get to know him better and spend more time with him, because she knew for a fact she was falling in love.

Gabe could barely believe this was happening either. This beautiful girl had really said agreed to dance with him, and now they were actually dancing? Gabe truly hoped that he wasn't dreaming, for he never wanted to wake up. He wanted this dance to last forever, so he would never have to say goodbye to Elena, and go back to living his life without her in it. There was hardly a chance he would see her again after the ball ended, but he kept a glimmer of hope that tonight was not their final encounter.

Elena wasn't paying attention to anything else around her, for all that mattered to her now was that she was actually dancing with Gabe! She planned to dance with him for the entire night, if it meant she'd be able to spend as much time as possible with him. She knew that once the ball ended, there was a high possibility of her never seeing him again. So, she was going to make sure to spend as much time with him as she possibly could, while she had the opportunity.

After a couple of hours of guests talking, eating, drinking, and dancing the night away, the ballroom began to empty out a bit. Elena brought Gabe outside to a balcony, so she'd be able to talk with him and get to know him better without any sort of distraction.

"So, being a lieutenant, I'm assuming you're in the military, the... navy, correct?" she asked him, to start some conversation.

"Yes," Gabe answered. "I joined as soon as I was able, I've always wanted to be a part of the navy. My parents, especially my father, aren't too happy I chose this path instead of joining their baking business, but this is what I really wanted to do."

"Oh, your parents have a baking business?" Elena asked him. "Not too much of a baker, are you?" she joked.

"No," Gabe replied. "and I'm not much of an olaball player either, to the dismay of my father."

"It certainly seems as if your father isn't too thrilled with your life choices... but do you love what you do?" Elena asked.

"Yes, I do." Gabe responded with a smile. "Besides, if I hadn't made the decision to go against his wishes and join the navy, I probably wouldn't be talking to you right now."

Elena smiled as she felt her cheeks warm up at his sweet response. She was so, so glad that Gabe decided to follow his own path in life instead of listening to his father, because if he didn't, they may have never met.

"Well, I guess you're right," she said. "and I'm glad that you're doing something that you love, that's what should really matter."

Gabe nodded in agreement. "What's your family like?" he asked.

"Well, there's me, my mother, my younger sister, my grandparents," Elena answered. "we're all pretty close, and we love to make music together."

"I can tell, you and your family sounded amazing tonight," Gabe said. "and not to be biased, but I think I liked your singing the most."

Elena smiled, and put a hand to her cheek, she was definitely blushing now. "Thank you," she said. "but I wouldn't say I'm the best of them, they're all very talented.."

"I would," Gabe responded, and reached down to take her hand in his own.

"Well, thank you.." Elena replied, holding Gabe's hand tightly back. "and I may be biased, but I'd say you're my favorite lieutenant, because I totally know all the others." she said.

Elena laughed nervously for a moment after that attempt at flirting. 'what was that, Elena?' she asked herself.

"Thank you," Gabe said with a smile.

"You're welcome," Elena responded, a similar smile never leaving her face.

"So, what do you like to do other than make music?" Gabe asked her.

"I love just getting out with my family most times, of course. We'll go on hikes, go sailing, go to one of our vacation homes or visit someone else in our family's home, we're always somewhere or doing something." Elena told him. "How about you?" she asked.

"I like fencing," Gabe replied. "We sometimes have competitions between my friends and I, and not to brag, but I usually win."

"I'm sure you do," Elena responded, definitely believing him. "and I'd love to learn to fence sometime, it actually looks pretty fun!"

"Well, I'd be happy to teach you," Gabe offered. "I'm sure it'd be considered "unladylike," but if it was just us, it wouldn't really matter."

"What my mother and grandparents don't know won't kill them," Elena replied with a wink. "I'd love for you to teach me sometime!"

"I'd be more than happy to teach you," Gabe responded.

"And hopefully you can sometime," Elena said, before sighing as she remembered the reason why she was so hesitant to find him in the first place. The chances of the two reuniting were slim to none. "I hope we see each other again..."

"Me too..." Gabe replied, looking down with a sigh as well. "Maybe we could write to each other? To keep in contact?" he suggested.

"I'd love that." Elena said, smiling once again at the thought of it. "We definitely should."

Gabe smiled. "Alright," he said. "I'll give you my address."

"And I'll give you mine as well, which is right here, but I'll still write it down so you'll always have it" Elena said.

"Thank you," Gabe replied. "I look forward to writing to you, and seeing you again, Miss Elena."

"And I look forward to writing and seeing you again as well, Lieutenant Núñez." Elena responded with a smile.

Gabe laughed a bit and rolled his eyes, but still smiled. "Please, you can just call me Gabe," he said.

"And you can just call me Elena," Elena insisted. "No 'miss' necessary"

"Alright then, Elena it is." Gabe said, smiling over at her.

"And Gabe it is." Elena replied, sharing the same, loving smile.

At that moment, the both of them knew that they had met the love of their life. Though they'd have a difficult road ahead, in between having to communicate with letters for a while or with Gabe often traveling with the navy, they were determined to make it work. Gabe was not going to let his beautiful Elena go, and Elena knew that tonight she had met the man she was going to marry. They were going to spend the rest of their lives together, no matter what.

September 3rd, 1930

On Christmas night of 1929, Gabe and Elena's oldest daughter began to feel unwell. It was simply strep throat, they were told, she should recover in a matter of days. But, by the time eleven year old Catalina had recovered, five of her seven siblings had fallen ill as well. The sudden illness turned out not to be a simple case of strep throat, but the highly contagious scarlet fever, which was currently spreading through the city.

Of course, Elena was always there to care for her children, even if she was risking contracting the illness herself. For the next few weeks, she was constantly visiting her children and checking in on them, while still trying to stay healthy herself. But, when her youngest daughter, Martina, who wasn't even a year old yet, came down with a severe case, Elena had no choice but to step in and care for her, twenty four-seven.

By the end of January, Elena's caring and motherly nature had led her to catching scarlet fever herself. In children, the illness tended to be fairly mild, but in adults, it could often leave behind serious side effects. Gabe knew this, and insisted that his wife take the time to rest in order to recover. But, Elena insisted that her children came first, wanting to be there for each and every one of them as they recovered.

But, even when all seven children were happy and healthy once again, Elena's symptoms had not subsided. Now, she could rest and recover with a sound mind, knowing that her children would be alright without her for a couple of days. Those couple of days turned into weeks, those weeks into months, and by the end of August, Elena still had a long road to recovery. She was now bound to a wheelchair, she would have to learn to walk all over again due to the toll the illness had taken on her body. She still tried to spend as much time as possible with her children, and be the happy, loving, and healthy mamí they had always known. But, deep down, she knew if scarlet fever had already taken so much from her, it could continue to do so.

Over the next week, Elena's condition quickly deteriorated, and it seemed as if only a miracle could heal her. Gabe had visited his wife each and every day for the duration of her sickness, but for the past day or two, he hadn't left her side at all. He knew that at any time, her condition could take a turn for the absolute worst, and he didn't want to take the chance of not having a chance to say goodbye. While Gabe tried his best to stay somewhat positive, and hope that his wife would miraculously recover, he knew Elena's time left was short.

Gabe's eyes were heavy as he sat at his wife's bedside, having stayed awake the entire night with her. He held Elena's hand tightly in his, even though Elena barely had the strength left to hold his. It broke his heart to see his wife in this condition, he would do absolutely anything to bring back the bright light of his life that was Elena.

Gabe's heart would sink as he noticed his wife's breathing become labored. He had been mentally preparing himself for the worst, just in case, but he knew that no matter how much he had prepared, he would never be ready if that moment arrived. He felt the slightest bit of relief when he noticed Elena slowly turn her head to look over at him, using all of her strength to do so.

"Elena.." he began to say, even saying her name brought tears to his eyes. But before he could say anything else, his wife managed to speak up.

"Gabe.." she said, her voice in a whisper. "Please..tell our children how much I love them.."

"Elena, no..no, don't talk like that.." Gabe said to her. Though he was trying to preserve his wife's positivity, he was also in denial about all this.

"Tell each and every one of them..each and every day..how much I love them.." Elena said. "And that I'll always be with them.."

Gabe held Elena's hand tight as he fought to hold back his tears, but even then, a tear or two would manage to fall down his cheek. He looked over at his wife, he still thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world, even with a scarlet red rash covering her cheeks, and her hair sticking to her fevered forehead. If it were possible, he would do anything to end all of her pain and suffering, but he knew that at this point, there was only one option for that.

Trying to clear his mind of these thoughts, Gabe nodded. "Of course I will.. I promise.." he said.

Elena smiled as best as she could, but to Gabe, it was the brightest smile he had seen out of her in a while. "Thank you.." she said. "A-and I love you..so, so much.."

"I love you too.." Gabe replied, and leaned down to kiss his wife. Thankfully, Elena was no longer contagious, but even if she was, Gabe would take that chance if it meant kissing his beloved Elena one last time.

Then, it looked as if Elena were about to speak, but she was unable to get any word out. Finally, a moment later, she managed to say, "And.."

Gabe patiently waited as his wife struggled to say a second word. He would wait for as long as it took her, he'd take any opportunity to hear the voice he loved so much.

"I'm..a-always.." Elena said, now needing to take multiple labored breaths between each word. Though it was a struggle, Elena managed to complete her sentence.

"I'm always with you.."

A moment later, after months and months of fighting to recover, Elena's body gave in, and her eyes slowly closed.

Gabe could feel his wife's grip on his hand loosen, and his heart immediately dropped. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't lose her.

"Elena? Elena! Elena, no! Mi amor, please!" Gabe desperately cried, hoping that his wife's beautiful brown eyes would open again. But no matter how many times he called her name, they remained peacefully closed, as her body grew paler.

Now, Gabe's denial began to truly set in. He lightly shook her, he held her hand tight, he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, all in an effort to wake her, even though deep down, he knew that his efforts were in vain. Finally, it all became too much for him, and Gabe just broke down. he couldn't picture his life without Elena, he never thought everything would end this way.

He thought of his wife, she had so much more to live for. she was a loving wife, a caring mother, his best friend. Then he pictured their seven children, who would now be growing up without their mother. He thought of their identical twins, though they were already quite different, they shared a similarity, devotion to their family. Catalina and Carolina absolutely adored their mother, and looked up to her, along with being her best friends. He thought of Luis, their oldest son, he was a mamí's boy. He loved cuddling up with his mother and listen to her play guitar, he wanted to learn from her one day. He thought of their youngest son, Marcelo, their bundle of energy, who sometimes even Elena couldn't keep up with. He thought of Luciana and Adelina, aged only five and two, who would be too little to understand why their mamí had suddenly disappeared. And finally, he thought of Martina, their baby girl who would grow up without a mother. She would never get know her mamí, or even remember her. In fact, he didn't know if any of their younger children would be able to remember their mother.

Gabe found himself growing a bit dizzy, since this all seemed like he was living a nightmare. His hands shook as he held Elena's tightly in his own, and his vision was blurred from his tears.

As his final moments with Elena played over and over in his head, he was reminded of his wife's dying wish. To remind each and every one of their children each and every day how much their mamí loves them. If Elena could see him now, she'd hate to see him this distraught. She'd encourage him to keep his head up and stay strong, but how could he ever move on in life without his Elena? His children. He knew he needed to stay strong and carry on for them. Though, of course, carrying on could take weeks, months, or even years, Elena would want him to be happy. But most of all, she'd want her children to be happy and loved as well.

So, then and there, Gabe dedicated himself to fulfilling Elena's wish. For the rest of his life, he would make sure his children are happy, healthy, and loved, just as Elena would do. Though it would be difficult to carry on without her, the Núñez Castillos still had each other, and that's what matters most.

[girlpornparadise]

The Caged Bird Moans (pt 1)

Pairing: Diego Jimenez/f!Reader (Power - Starz)

Word Count: ~2600

Warnings:  It's a bit Stockholm syndromey, but that's not a real thing anyway (look it up). Not exactly non-con, but it skirts the idea, so if power disparities aren't your jam, please move along. It just real dirty. SMUT!

Personal ramble: Would anyone actually react like this to the situation I've set forth? No. But just as the pizza guy is never hot and doesn't offer you his extra sausage, this is porn people! So suspend your disbelief and don't hate on me for my bullsh*t.

I also wrote all this nonsense a week ago before I read anything from the lovely @1zashreena1 , @heresathreebee or @nicke0115 so sorry if it looks similar, I swear it's a coincidence.

"Ouch", you think to yourself but instead swallow the pain. Your arm hurts under the firm grasp of the thug dragging you from the elevator into the spacious penthouse.

"Be careful with that." Says a commanding voice from across the room.

The grip loosens, but he's still using your momentum to force you forward. You stumble, unsure of just how much danger you are in.

As you take in your surroundings the owner of the voice turns around and approaches you. He looks you up and down, examining you like a prize he had won.

"We can't afford to damage her." He states plainly, looking at the man still holding you in place.

As he examines you, you examine him right back. Whereas he is doing it in an obvious way, head nodding to rake his eyes over you, you move your eyes only, unable to control your body in this moment. You follow the carefully polished boots up past the fitted black jeans to the black buttoned up shirt with the slight sheen to it, that accentuates his frame. Everything is obviously expensive and very deliberately chosen. As your eyes settle on his face, a recognization dawns on you. Diego Jimenez. One of the heads of the Jiminez cartel. His reputation was well known to you. An unstable, merciless man whose penchant for partying made him a big name in certain circles. You were scared before, but now your body goes rigid with fear and your gaze hits the floor with force.

Though you're no longer looking at him directly you can sense his smugness and satisfaction at knowing you are now showing the appropriate amount of fear for the situation you're in. Maybe it's your hind brain telling you you are in the presence of an apex predator. Maybe it was the clipped snort he let out, tinged with amusement as he nodded with approval.

After what feels like an eternity, but was probably mere seconds, he speaks again.

"Take her to the guest room." He orders the man still firmly gripping your arm. "Lock this little bird in her cage."

Dragging you again, this time down the hall, Diego's orders are followed to completion. You are practically thrown into the room as the door slams shut behind you.

You stumble, catching yourself on the bed. You collapse onto it as tears prick your eyes and subsequently fall down your cheeks. You begin to sob, but muffle it in the covers, assuming someone is standing guard outside and not wanting to seem even weaker in such an intense situation. But the tears flow freely as the shock of what's happened slowly wears off and you begin to process the details of your abduction.

You hadn't grown up in this world, though your ties to it were strong. You were part of the Bennet family, a rival cartel, headed by your grandfather. He insisted you grow up distanced from this world. A world of violence and cruelty. A world of drugs and guns and transactions ending in death. Based on your current reaction, you couldn't help but think maybe it was because you're so weak. Both you and he knew it was true, you were too soft to be a part of the business, too kind to do what would be required of you. So he kept you away, from his city and his dealings and all of the darkness that came with it.

You were in town for a rare family visit when you were taken without warning, snatched from the street at gunpoint. They were able to do it without drawing attention, entirely professional, and you complied with their every demand as a sense of terror ripped through you.

And now here you were, trapped by a barbarous stranger who could end your life at any moment without a second thought.

As you wore yourself out from crying, you began to take in the room, determined to get your bearings. It was sparsely decorated, obviously the work of a man unattached. It was also immaculately clean, obviously the work of his maid. As your breathing slows and your senses sharpen, you become aware that the comforter you are still on top of is plush and expensive, like the kind found at a swanky hotel.

Curiosity returning with your senses, you walk over to the window that stretches from floor to ceiling and take in the impressive view of the city. If the long elevator ride weren't a clear enough indicator, the view tells you that you are in the penthouse of a very upscale building.

Next to the window is a large bathroom and you walk in. You splash cold water on your face and dry it on one of the plush towels. You can't help be momentarily amused by how well stocked the room is with soaps and lotions. There were definitely worse places to be trapped. Was this the definition of a gilded cage?

As you settle down, you take off your shoes and sit back down on the bed. You're exhausted to your core, and you sink into the mattress, wanting to disappear. You want to keep your wits about you, alert and on guard, but instead the stress combined with the late hour forces you to sleep.

You are woken up abruptly the following morning when the door swings open and you are literally dragged out of bed by the same man as yesterday. 

You're a bleary eyed, rumpled mess and the same fear and pain shoot through you as you remember where you are and how you got there. Your breathing is shallow as you try not to panic.

You've been dragged before Diego who is standing imposingly before you, hands clasped in front of him, chin slightly upward so he can look down his nose at you.

He examines you once more and you can tell he's disgusted by what he sees.

"Get our guest something to wear." He barks. "And get her something to eat. We can't bargain if she's broken."

As he turns away from you to resume whatever you interrupted, you catch the flash of the gun in his waistband and the fear settles once again in the pit of your stomach.

You are escorted back to the room forcefully and your mind is racing. You know everyone who comes through the penthouse is armed to the teeth and there's no chance of escape. You're not just weak, you're helpless. You assume you're being held for some kind of ransom, probably territory or resources as opposed to money, and you silently pray that a deal for your release is struck quickly so this nightmare can be over.

Soon after, the door opens and a housekeeper enters carrying a couple of bags of clothes. She doesn't look you in the eye and you wouldn't know what to say to her anyway. 

Once she has left, you rummage through the clothes. There's nothing there you'd pick for yourself, but you settle on a white fitted t-shirt and jeans. You carry them with you into the bathroom along with a handful of drugstore makeup you find in the bottom of the bag.

You look at yourself in the mirror and the reason for Diego's revulsion becomes clear. Your clothes are wrinkled and creased and your mascara is smudged under your eyes. You lock the bathroom door behind you, strip down and take a shower. The running water calms you and once you finish you get dressed and approximate your normal makeup routine with what you have. If you're going to put on a brave front, you need to be as put together as possible.

When you emerge from the bathroom a tray of breakfast is waiting on the nightstand next to the bed. Eggs sunny side up and toast, simple and straightforward. You devour it greedily since you haven't eaten since lunch yesterday.

The day passes with 2 more meals brought to you by the same housekeeper at the appropriate intervals. In the absence of your phone, you distract yourself with mindless TV on the rather large set opposite the bed. You don't take in much as you think about your predicament and then try to force those thoughts of the worst case scenario from your mind.

Your sleep that night is restless.

You are brought before Diego once again in the morning, shortly after you wake. 

This time you are allowed to walk under your own power, though your legs feel wobbly and your feet unsure as you approach him.

You're wearing a cotton t-shirt and shorts,  the closest thing you could find to pajamas. As he looks at you, you become painfully aware that you're not wearing underwear, his eyes seeming to stop at all the places where it should be.

You are at least able to look at him and take in more this time. He's clad in a similar black button up shirt and black jeans as yesterday, a uniform of sorts to convey his status. His hair is neatly cut and accentuates his angles, sharp jaw and well placed cheekbones. His greying facial hair gives him some earned distinction and his expression is hard and deliberate to elicit a specific reaction of fear. Through the careful tailoring of his shirt you can see that his body is sturdy and muscular. His tense posture using his frame to his advantage, making him seem larger than he actually is. You know to fear him, but he may be the most attractive man you've ever seen in real life.

He obviously cultivates an aura of power, and you can't help but be drawn to him as an Alpha Male. As you steel yourself, you dare to look him in the eyes. His eyes are cold but impossibly magnetic and you can't look away. He's looking back at you now, into you. Your heart forgets how to beat in rhythm and you swallow thickly.

He sees your fear and is clearly amused by it.

"Breakfast will be ready soon. You should go take a shower." He says, his lips curling upwards. 

"I, I was going to." you stammer.

"Good girl." It comes out as almost a purr and sends a shiver down your spine.

This time it's Diego, not his associate who accompanies you back to the bedroom. His hand is hovering above the small of your back, ushering you forward while maintaining a small distance. You enter the room and the lock clicks behind you.

You turn to see that he's still in the room and with his gaze set upon you, you begin to back away towards the bathroom,  afraid to turn your back on him. This was clearly his intended effect.

You expect him to leave, but he's doing the opposite. He is stalking forward. Your heart is pounding out of your chest and your uneven breathing becomes gulping for air.

As he closes the gap between your bodies, he repeats his suggestion. "You should go take a shower." It's not a suggestion though, it's a command.

He leans in. "Go on." His lips are close enough to your ear that his breath catches in your hair.

His thick body is now urging you through the bathroom doorway by its approach. You back through it, still transfixed by his gaze. 

You glance side eyed to your left at the shower that takes up the far wall. It's one of those large walk-in showers with a stone floor and a rain showerhead. It suddenly seems less like a shower and feels more like a trap about to spring shut.

"Take off your clothes." He says. He's not asking.

You gulp, your eyes have gone wide at the demand.

"Take. Off. Your. Clothes." He repeats in a tone that is both amused and losing patience. He raises his eyebrows slightly as he says it.

You look away, ashamed, and slowly and nervously acquiesce. You stand before him completely naked and try to avert your gaze. You are drawing your body inward, trying to conceal yourself in any way you can.

"Turn on the water." he says with his wicked smile widening.

You turn on the shower and wait for it to warm. It dawns on you that there's no shower curtain to protect you or glass wall to hide behind. You are fully exposed and will remain so.

You step under the water, unsure of what to do next. You'd obviously showered hundreds of times, but this wasn't a shower. It was a show.

"Wash yourself." His voice is quieter, more of a harsh whisper.

You grab a washcloth and pump the foaming body wash onto it. You rub it on the back of your neck and slowly work your way down to your shoulders. Your nerves have subsided a little as the water washes over your skin.

He's mesmerized by the motion of your hands and you drag the washcloth across your collarbones and down to your breasts, where you languidly rub them with the cloth as well as your free hand.

Your nipples harden at your own touch. He notices and his tongue drags over his bottom lip. You close your eyes in an attempt to momentarily escape.

When you open your eyes you notice him shift his weight and catch a glimpse of the shift in his muscles under his shirt. You get a rush as you feel the power dynamic shift slightly. You are slow to rub the washcloth down your legs and you arch your back slightly as you bend over, purposely sticking out your ass more than you naturally would. 

His eyes are dark with lust and you can feel the warmth radiating from between your own legs.

"Rub your clit." He says, reclaiming his power.

You look at him with shocked eyes and your eyebrows knit.

"You heard me." he says. "I won't ask again." His head tilting slightly.

You put the washcloth aside and tentatively slide your middle finger between your thighs to your bundle of nerves. You notice how wet you already are and using gentle pressure you begin to rubbing in circles.

You close your eyes and swallow as your walls contract and release. Your breathing gets heavier and heavier until you're panting. Panting and touching yourself for this fixated man. 

"Cum for me." He demands. "I need to see you cum." 

You think to fake an orgasm. To end this little game he's playing, but it's too late. Your finger presses harder on your clit and you tremble as the real thing rips through you. You close your eyes and cry out with abandon.

When you regain yourself you look at him. You are raw and exposed and at your most vulnerable. His mouth is in a wide smile and his eyes gleam with satisfaction. 

He reaches out to you, towel in hand. You steady yourself, turn off the water, and take the towel from him. You wrap it around yourself, suddenly panged with shame at how readily you revealed your most intimate self to this menacing stranger. Your posture closes, and reflects your return to shyness.

"Good girl." He says, and you feel the words like honey dripping in your ears.

He turns and leaves, his confident stride drawing your attention to how his jeans hug his perfect behind. 

You dry yourself off and as you get to your inner thighs you're reminded of how wet you are. How wet you are for him. You want to blame the shower, but you know the truth. You're spellbound by this man, and god are you in trouble.

[witchygagirlwrites]

Cant Love You Back

*Not My Gif*

Because the song was stuck in my hand and apparently I am a fucking narcissist that loves pain so here ya go. @gottaboopthesnoot

There was a time in Kelly's life he was simply coasting through. He'd bust his ass at work then either go home to an empty apartment or go get drunk and go home with a girl whose name he had forgotten by the time he left her place. 

That changed the day Chief Boden announced fifty one was getting a new addition. You stood at the front of the room as Boden introduced you. Kelly offered you his hand and from the moment you smiled at him he felt something start to flutter inside him he had never dreamt of giving the light of day.

You fit in as if you'd been a part of the team from the start. Everyone that met you seemed to be drawn to you, Kelly worse of all. He'd find himself scanning for you after a tough call just to see for himself you were fine. After shift would end he'd make any excuse to spend more time with you 

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

"So when are you gonna bite the bullet and ask her out?" Matt asked after watching Kelly follow you around like a puppy for two solid months. 

When Kelly cut his eyes at him he raised both hands defensively "Just saying man. It's painfully obvious how you feel. I can't blame you she's a great woman and beautiful. I think she feels the same but you're her Lieutenant and she's not going to admit anything that may make her seem as if she's ladder climbing" 

"That you or Gabby talking?" Kelly asked looking out into the bay where you were currently helping Gabby and Sylvie restock their rig. "Little bit of both. I'm just saying Kelly you've changed since she got here and it's not bad changes. Go with your gut. It's never led you wrong" 

Kelly felt Matt patt his shoulder before hearing his footsteps walk away. Had he changed that much since meeting you? When he thought about it he didn't remember the last time he'd drank over a couple beer and he'd been content with an empty bed knowing he'd see you the following shift 

You threw him off balance in the best way possible. You wouldn't blink an eye going into a fire but volunteered in the n.i.c.u. on your days off. You were a perfect combination of that fire he'd always crave and the peace that he desperately needed.

Hearing your laughter drew him out his thoughts and he glanced up to see you walking into the common room laughing about something Slyvie had said. When your eyes met his you smiled even further "Hey Kelly" "Hey Y/N can i talk to you for a minute?" The moment he asked Slyvie and Gabby shared a look then made up some excuse to be scarce.

"What's up?" You asked smiling up at him and Jesus christ he felt like a teenager with their first crush "You think you may wanna grab dinner with me sometime?" "Kelly Severide are you asking me out?" You questioned and he nearly blushed "Yeah?" You took a step closer to him and leaned up to leave a kiss on his cheek "good cause I am doing absolutely nothing Friday night and I have a new outfit sitting in my closet that desperately needs to see the light of day" 

"About frickin time!" Both of you both turned when you heard Mouch who was sitting on the couch watching t.v. but it was apparent he'd seen your exchange. "Excuse me?" You asked with a laugh so Mouch shrugged "I had the two and a half month mark in the betting pool" 

Your mouth fell open in shock and Kelly couldn't help but laugh when you recovered enough to say "That's it! I'm calling sergeant Platt!" and Mouch started backtracking trying his best to apologize but you winked at Kelly then ran off already dialing on your phone.

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

Kelly pulled up in front of your apartment building around seven and slowly walked inside. Your apartment was on the second floor so headed for the elevator while he sent you a text that he was on the way up.

By the time he stepped off the elevator you were standing in the hall waiting on him. You were wearing black ankle boots with a black dress and a red leather jacket. Your hair was down in loose curls around your face and he'd never seen a more beautiful sight. "Wow" he breathed and a smile spread across your face "Does that mean you like?" He nodded quickly "Very much"

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

The night went by too quick in Kelly's opinion. The two of you went to dinner and a movie then stopped at Molly's for a drink before he took you home. When he walked in with his arm around your waist it just felt right. Otis slid two drinks across the bar with a smile "These are from Mouch and Trudy"  you leaned back in your seat and spotted the two so you raised your bottle to them with a smile then turned back to Kelly "So Severide I was going to wait until you take me home but you owe me a kiss. I mean i technically kissed you first"

"Is that right?" He asked with a smirk that only deepened when you said "oh yeah definitely. I mean I've heard that you're some sort of ladies man yet all night the furthest you've went is home my hand or putting your arm around me" he cut you off mid sentence with a kiss. The kiss was gentle, barely a brush of the lips but when he pulled back a smile was on both of your faces "So does that mean this is going to be more than one date?" He asked and was answered by you grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him in for another kiss. 

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

The first time you told Kelly you loved him was after a huge fight between the two of you. You'd been staying at his place more and more so he was on the verge of asking you to move in but it just so happened a friend of yours had stopped by the firehouse to catch up. That friend just so happened to be male and Kelly's jealousy flared up.

The night had ended with you storming out of his apartment slamming the door behind you. You didn't answer any of his calls or texts and when he came over to your place you opened the door long enough to say "Kelly if you care about me at all you'll leave"

The next day he was miserable walking into fifty one. He spotted your car and prayed you'd talk to him but you stayed close to either Gabby and Sylvie or once they left on a call you walked over to where Herrman was sitting and struck up a conversation with him.

A call came out for an apartment fire with civilians trapped. Kelly was watching you take your orders from Matt and wanted nothing more than to tell you to be safe before you went  in but didn't want to distract you if you were still upset.  You started to walk past him but stopped just long enough to say "I love you Kelly" then jogged to catch up with your crew who were headed in. He had just a few seconds to process what you'd said before heading in the other entrance with Cruz.

The moment the building was cleared you were outside helping roll the hoses up. Kelly had just got through talking with Matt and chief Boden when he saw you. He caught your hand when you bent down to pick up another hose and the moment your eyes met his he said "I love you too. I'm sorry i was a jealous asshole. I've just never felt this way" you rolled your eyes but the smile you had told him all he needed to know even before you said "Good because neither have I. I'm not going anywhere Kelly" 

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

You and Kelly were coming up on your two year anniversary. Your present had been sitting in the top drawer of his dresser for weeks. Gabby had went with him to help pick out what cut and style of ring she thought you'd like and of course she'd somehow managed to find out your ring size as well.

He had everything planned. Where he was going to take you, what he was going to say. The thing about plans is that sometimes the unexpected happens.

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

The call had been simple enough. A warehouse had caught fire on the south side. You'd went in with Matt to clear the base floor where a few workers were trapped. You were following close behind Matt "Fire Department call out!" The haze of smoke was bad enough you could barely see in front of you.

You took another step and heard the crack right before your footing gave way. One moment you were falling the next you felt a sharp pain rip through your abdomen. You looked down to see a piece of rebar sticking out an inch above your navel. Your hands were shaking as you touched the wound trying to apply pressure but the slightest movement ripped a scream from your lips. "Y/N!" You could hear Matt's voice and knew you just had to hold on.

A moment later you heard him across the radio "Floor collapsed. Y/N's hurt. I need assistance" when his face appeared next to you the look on your face told you everything you needed to know about your injury. "Matt if something happens. Help Kelly please" you begged him your only thoughts being what would happen to the man you loved. Gabby told you how bad he'd gotten about Shay had been killed. You didn't want him falling in that hole. "Hey don't talk like that. You'll be fine. Your anniversary is in two weeks you'll be on your feet by then" 

Matt's hand found yours and gripped it tight. You could hear voices and knew everyone was working their way to you.

Kelly was fighting to get inside to your side but Boden called him back "You'll be in the way. Let them get her out then you can ride with them to med" it took everything in him to not argue. The moment he saw Cruz and Capp emerge he ran to your side feeling himself weaken when he saw how severely injured you were.

"Hey baby" you managed weakly as he climbed into the ambulance next to you while Gabby worked to stop the flow of blood. "Hey beautiful" he said with a smile that was marred by the tears flowing down his face. Every bump the ambulance hit caused a grimace to flash across your face. "Kelly I don't want to die" you whispered right as your grip on his hand loosened and the heart monitor on you flat lined. 

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

"If love could have saved Y/N she would have lived forever. Love from her aunt and uncle who raised her, from her family at firehouse fifty one and from her loving boyfriend. Sadly fate as it seemed had other plans. We don't know why she was taken from us so soon and as we grieve today may the loving warmth of her spirit live on in all of us she held close" 

Kelly sat in the front of the church staring at the photo of you that had been chosen. Those eyes he loved looking into that never opened again after you whispered how you didn't want to die. That smile that always made even his worse day better that he'd never see again. He never got to ask you to marry him. He never got to see you pregnant with his child. He'd never get to tell you again just how much you meant to him.

He'd love you every day for the rest of his life. If only he could manage to love you back to this world then maybe his heart wouldn't feel like it had been ripped out his chest the moment you took your last breath.

[snarkwrites]

12 | gangsta; sweetpea

NOTES:

It's been a while. I've had these two chapters written for a while now but I haven't had time to sit down, edit them a little better and post them. Since I have time now, I thought I'd go ahead and do that, whether you guys asked for these next two chapters or not.

Sorry this took forever! Sorry I'm so slow, I've been settling into a new house and taking care of some IRL stuff / taking a little break. I swear, I'm going to update everything sooner or later. >.>

I love you guys.

WARNINGS:

NON/ LOOSE CANON COMPLIANCE - this is the biggest warning, so if you’re into things that follow exact canon plot you are… definitely not going to like this. ANGST & SLOW BURN, HEAVY SEXUAL TENSIONSTARTING NOW, ACTUALLY - this is just so everyone who started reading this thinking the smut would transpire in a hurry knows that apparently, it is not. VIOLENCE / SWEARING & FIGHTING, POSSIBLE UNDERAGE DRINKING AND OTHER SHENANIGANS- look.. it’s high school. shit happens. also apparently, my ofc Alyssa uses the word fuck like all the time?…EVENTUAL SEXUAL CONTENT / A VIRGIN ORIGINAL CHARACTER- this one is self explanatory. yes, i plan to write a smutty chapter in this at some point. when? i don’t rightly know. it’s got a while before we get there. STALKER TW - this chapter marks the true appearance of Alyssa's ex, Dave Novak. It's hinted heavily that he's a gross asshole who likes to play mind games.

If you're under 18+, probably not a good or wise idea to continue reading this series. Because there are going to be a few dark and adult themes within. I'll warn here, of course, but you need to understand that I don't control you. If you continue to read after having read the warnings and you're upset or don't like something... Totally on you, friend.

PAIRING:

Andrews!Sibling OFC x Sweet Pea.

TAGGING:

@brithedemonspawn is the only person on my Riverdale tag list. If you want to be added, the link to do so is below.

OTHER PARTS:

ONE - TWO - THREE - FOUR - FIVE - SIX - SEVEN - EIGHT - NINE - TEN- ELEVEN - soundtrack

OTHER STUFF:

[ about my writing - tag list doc ]

T W E L V E.

[773 - 589 - 7956] attachment

[773 - 589 - 7956] I think I decided how you can repay me, scarlet…

[773 - 589 - 7956] Better enjoy your quiet and happy little life while you still have it, scarlet. Because soon it’s all going to be ripped right out of your pretty little hands.

[773 - 589 - 7956] That boyfriend of yours isn’t even gonna be able to save you this time, scarlet. You’re mine.

[773 - 589 - 7956] See you soon, scarlet.

Each new text that came in had me tensing up. Careful to keep my phone out of sight of anyone who was nearby. My heart was about to beat right out of my chest and my stomach felt like it sank to the floor. I was barely listening to anything being said around me and I guess it was more obvious than I thought because Toni cleared her throat, nodding to the phone in my hand.

Gazing at me in concern.

“Everything okay? You look like you’re going to be sick.”

“Yeah,yeah. Everything is fine.” I lied. I think at that particular point in time, I was just trying to convince myself that this was all some kind of bad dream. Or worst case scenario, Dave was making empty threats.

Toni eyed me suspiciously. I tried to give her a convincing smile, but I’d have had to be an idiot to even think for a second that she believed me. She eyed my phone and reached for it. I managed to shove it in my pocket.

“Trust me.” I pleaded. She gave me a wary look and sighed, grumbling “Fine, okay. Alright.” under her breath.

And I did my best to push the texts out of my head. Jumping in the conversation she had going on with Cheryl and Veronica. Laughing and talking as if nothing were wrong.

Lying through the skin of my teeth.

XXX

“What’s got you so jumpy?”

The question caught me off guard. I wanted to tell someone what was going on, I really did, but… I didn’t want to worry anyone, either. I was at least 99.9 percent sure that there was absolutely no way that Dave would show up in Riverdale, at least that’s what I was hoping.

I did my best to play it off. Shoveling french fries into my mouth just so I didn’t have to answer right away. My cell phone lit up and I flinched before I could stop myself.

Toni reached for it and I quickly grabbed it and shoved it in my pocket. She gave me a concerned look and I muttered quietly, “Probably just Reggie...again.”

“Reggie’s with that new girl though?” Cheryl spoke up. Gazing at me thoughtfully. My breath caught in my throat because if anyone would catch on to there being something truly wrong with me or something off in the way I was acting, it’d be her or Polly.

So far, I’d managed to fool everyone else into thinking I was alright, even my dad and my brother.

,, Dave won’t come here, it’s not worth the hassle. He’s just playing mind games. That’s all this is. Pull yourself together.” the thought came and I managed a smile, shrugging.

“You’ve been acting weird all week, now that I’m thinking about it.” Cheryl was the one who said it and she gave me an expectant look. Waiting.

“I have not.”

,, I do have one secret I can spill. Maybe if I tell them about my crush on Sweetpea…” and so that’s what I did. Sighing as I reached for the shared plate of fries between the three of us. Raking my fries through my vanilla milkshake and taking a few deep breaths to kind of collect myself, both from Dave’s harassing texts and what I was finally about to get off my chest about having feelings for Sweetpea.

“You have. Start talking.” Toni spoke up, watching me. Sizing me up. If I had to guess, I’d pin money on her sitting across the booth, trying to figure out what was up with my jumpy attitude all week.

“Okay, alright. Fine. But what I’m about to tell you two does not leave this table, okay? It.. It can’t. If Sweetpea ever found out, pretty sure he’d start avoiding me and things would get weird.”

Toni and Cheryl exchanged a look and then Toni nodded. Chewing a mouthful of fries as she muttered calmly, “Go on.”

“ I may or may not have a crush on Sweetpea.”

“Oh, you definitely have a crush on him. It’s kind of obvious.” Cheryl gave a soft teasing grin and I sighed. Dragging my hand through my hair and taking a few seconds to let her words sink in. I almost dreaded asking, but I felt like I had to given that she said it was obvious. “Oh god.. He doesn’t suspect anything.. Right?”

“Oh, he’s the only one whose oblivious. But the rest of us, we’ve known a while.” Toni teased me. Then asked calmly, “Is that all? Why’s that have you so jumpy?”

“Because I know how bad I am at hiding things, okay? I was kind of… I dunno, freaking out I guess.” I eyed her, waiting. Searching her face in the hopes that she accepted what I said and didn’t keep pushing. A few seconds passed and she laughed softly. Took a sip of her strawberry milkshake and asked with a smirk, “Are you gonna do anything about it?”

“Probably not. Every time I even think about it, I manage to talk myself right out of it. He’d laugh his ass off, okay? Besides, remember all the flirting he was doing with Josie when they had to work together during the play?” I pouted as I pointed it out.

Cheryl and Toni exchanged looks and Toni laughed. “He was doing that to make you jealous. Or that’s what I think he was doing. Either way… I think you should do something. He’s not going to and trust me… I’ve known the guy my whole life. I know him well enough to say that I know he has a thing for you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been so cranky when you two first met?”

“I thought he was just naturally grumpy?”

“Oh, he is, but the way he was towards you was totally different. He’s only that grumpy when he’s trying to keep his defenses up.” Toni informed me before finishing off her shake.

The door to the diner opened and Sweetpea walked in, Fangs in tow. The two of them were laughing about something. I gave both Cheryl and Toni a pleading look and Cheryl seemed to pick up on my unspoken plea to change the subject thankfully, because she asked, “Are you going to F.P’s retirement party at the Wyrm?”

“Yeah.” I answered, finishing off my milkshake. Sweetpea flopped into the booth beside me, carelessly slinging an arm over the back of the seat. His hand brushed against my shoulder and I swear just the small brush against me felt like someone had taken a livewire and dragged it over my body real slow.

Toni smirked at me, nodding at Sweetpea while he was too busy wolfing down french fries to notice and I shook my head.

“I dare you. No… I triple dare you.. Flirt with him.” Toni gave a teasing grin as she mouthed the words to me and I swallowed hard.

She’s not playing fair. She knows I can’t turn down a dare.

I happened to glance out the window of the diner and when I thought I saw Dave standing there, leaning against a streetlamp, one hand in his pocket and a cigarette dangling between his lips, I nearly choked. This prompted Sweetpea to start hitting me on the back lightly as he laughed and looked at me in concern. “Damn cherry, are you trying to kill yourself?”

Toni’s brow raised and Sweetpea explained what happened earlier in the day, how I’d nicked myself with the scalpel in our first period class while doing a dissection. What Sweetpea didn’t know was that when it happened, it was because I thought I’d seen Dave standing outside in the parking lot, only to blink and the parking lot be empty.

I have got to stop letting his stupid mind games get to me. It’s just because he’s texting me again. It’s just because he knows how to work me up and get me all scared, he used to be good at it when we dated.

He’d never come to Riverdale. He’s just doing this to me for his own sick amusement and every single time I let him get to me, especially when I’m to a point where I’m so paranoid I’m imagining that I see him everywhere lately, it’s letting him win and that pisses me off more than anything.

I’m supposed to be stronger than that, damn it.

Toni eyed me suspiciously and I braced myself. When she didn’t bring up my skittish behavior, I relaxed a little.

I wanted to tell someone what was going on, but at the same time, why? I’m pretty sure this is just Dave, being an absolute bag of dicks.

It has to be that. It has to be.

XXX

He stood outside some podunk little diner right in the heart of town. The hazy red neon gave off a comforting and inviting warmth and he lit his cigarette, fuming in anger as he watched her sitting inside.

“I know you’re not ignoring me, scarlet. I know you’re not.” he muttered, mostly to himself as he turned the collar of his leather jacket up against the wind and started to walk towards the South Side.

Maybe it was time he paid his old buddy Eric a visit. Eric was out of prison. Eric was the one who’d told him where Alyssa was to begin with, though he didn’t realize it.

Dave chuckled and shook his head as he walked towards the shitty apartments on the opposite end of town where Eric lived. Eric owed him a few favors. He was coming to collect.

“Did you really think I was jokin when I told ya I have friends all over? That you weren’t ever gonna get away from me?” he mused to himself as he knocked on the door of a first floor slum apartment.

Eric opened the door, leaning in it lazily. Blinking at him in a daze and smirking. High fiving him as he asked him why he was in town.

Dave whipped out his phone, showing Eric a picture of Alyssa. At first he gave him some story about her running off while he was in the pen. Eric wasn’t buying it, he could see it written in the expression on his face. And that only made him angry. Eric owed him. He was here to collect the favor owed. All he wanted was for Eric to help him out on this one little thing.

Eric shook his head, chuckling in disgust. Gazing at him with a brow raised. “I think you need to leave, man. Now. You don’t want the heat this is gonna bring down on you. And I’m not about to get on a Serpent’s bad side, even if the Serpent in question is just a damn kid.”

“See, I’d like to just put this all behind me, man... but she’s the whole reason I even went to prison to begin with. Then I get out and find out not only is my girl not loyal, she’s also the one who snitched on me?” Dave eyed Eric. Getting irritated because this was not how he saw the conversation going.

“I’m telling you, you need to leave. Forget about Alyssa. I see her around all the time with some kid… Sweet Pea or Green Bean, some shit. The Serpents are not people you fuck with, man. Not around these parts.”

“You know the Serpents aren’t shit to me… Right?” Dave quipped, smirking. “I’ve got this under control. I just need you to help me out a little… C’mon, man. You owe me.”

“I don’t fucking care. I’m not helping you do whatever it is you’re here to do. What I oughta do is put a bullet in your fucking head for even thinking I’d be down for this shit. She’s a kid, man. A fucking kid... Favor or not, man… I’m on the Serpents side with this. Not yours. You need to leave.” Eric warned, giving Dave a firm glare as he folded heavily tattooed arms over his chest.

“Oh, so that’s how you’re playin, huh? Okay. Alright. All I wanna do is see her again. I’m not going to do anything. I just want to straighten things out. Get a little closure on the situation...”

Eric scoffed. “This coming from the king of overreaction. I don’t trust you.I’m breakin code of my gang by even talking to your ass. Nope. The answer is no. I’m not helping. Do whatever you have to do to me, but I’m not about to help you scare some kid. I’ve got better things to do with my time, buddy...”

Dave’s arm shot out and he pinned Eric against the door of his apartment. Smirking at him calmly. “I know you haven’t forgotten just how much your sorry ass owes me. Because that’s what this sounds like.”

“I guess that’s what it is then. Because I’ve seen what the Serpents can do. I’m not about to bring all that down on my head.” Eric stepped back inside his apartment, slamming the door in Dave’s face, leaving him to glare at the closed door and take a swing.

“Guess I’m doing this all by myself.” Dave mused as he turned and wandered down to a shitty dive bar nearby. He needed to have a few rounds. Come up with a plan.

And a little after midnight, after finding himself a few new talkative friends in some local Ghoulies, things were starting to look up for him. And he was slowly forming a plan.

Now he just had to wait. Pick his moment. Toy with her a little more.

“I’m so close I can almost touch you, scarlet. Soon… Soon you’re going to pay for running your mouth to mommy about me...” he smirked to himself as he unlocked his hotel room and stepped inside.