#god i wish i could have some good weather right now

[10yearsofdnp]

February 10, 2015: Dan and Phil head home from Playlist Live, though it seems Dan is having a hard time HANDLING it! 😉☀️💼

[punkshort]

Hi again !! I wanted to know if one day you could write a one-shot based off of this prompt:

“But I wanted to do that with you! You could have asked me!"

I tried to do something with this myself but failed miserably 😭

This is my current oldest request, apologies for taking so long to get through these. Okay here goes nothing:

Five Senses

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You catch Joel sneaking off to do something in the middle of the night and curiosity gets the best of you.

Warnings: language, m!masturbation, smut (18+ MDNI), some descriptions of violence and gore, angst, yearning

WC: idk I wrote it on my phone - maybe 2K?

The fire was out by the time you woke. Was it time for your turn on watch? It had to have been. So why didn't Joel wake you?

Slowly, you rolled onto your back and looked around, your eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness surrounding you. The woods were quiet. Not a single twig snapped, no leaves rustled nor bird sang. Even the wind was still. The loudest thing was your heavy breathing and your heart beating in your ears.

Where was he?

Panic gripped you then. Did something happen? He never strayed too far out, especially when the weather was fair. It brought out infected, easily the biggest downfall of living in the wilderness during summer.

"Joel?" you whispered into the dark abyss, sitting up in your sleeping bag in the process. You strained your ears, flared your nostrils, using all your available senses when sight was questionable, just like he taught you that first week after you ran into each other. It was years ago, now, but you remembered it like it was yesterday.

He saved you. He didn't know who you were, he didn't have to answer your screams of terror, but he did. Just when your arms were growing weak from holding the infected above you, it's snapping jaw so close you had to push back into the dirt to keep it from grazing you, there was a loud explosion. Then you were covered in wet, dead brains and pieces of bone, but you were alive.

He hauled the carcass off you and you furiously began to wipe the carnage from your face, worried it would still somehow get into your bloodstream.

"Here," he had said, handing you a used blue washcloth. You snatched it and whispered your gratitude, wiping off your face more throughly so you could stand and get a good look at your savior.

At the time, you chalked it up to adrenaline, but you felt like you fell in love the moment you first locked eyes. Those deep, beautiful brown eyes that could look right through you, that gazed at you with so much concern when he patched you up after scuffles with raiders, that glared at you when you fucked up and almost gave away your position, that squinted when he laughed at something you said over the fire.

It took a few weeks, maybe a month, but you eventually determined adrenaline wasn't to blame. You were hopelessly in love with Joel Miller, and you never once had the courage to tell him. Never once tried to kiss him, tried to do anything except stare at him when his back was turned, allowing your eyes to greedily take in his broad shoulders and thick, curly, tuggable hair.

He never looked at you like that. God, you wished he would, but he was far too focused. His only concern was survival. Sometimes you wondered how he was able to function properly on so little sleep. Sleep was his only luxury, and he rarely allowed himself to relish in it. It didn't matter how many times you told him you could keep watch the whole night, or on the rare occasions he found you a cabin or shed, he refused to let his guard down.

So where was he now?

Slowly, you stood, your right hand brushing against your handgun which was tucked into your leg holster. You took a steadying breath, trying to quiet yourself so you could listen to your surroundings. Pay attention, stay alert, step lightly.

That was when you first heard it. Panting, or gasping, somewhere to your right. Oh, god, what if he was hurt? What if something happened and you were sleeping, leaving him to bleed out, or worse?

You pulled out your gun and gripped it with both hands, aiming it at the ground as you quickly made your way towards the noise, your heart slamming against your ribs, fear squeezing your throat, but you stayed focused. You had to. For him.

But as you got closer, when it sounded like he was just on the other side of a thick tree trunk, you realized you were very wrong. Your feet became rooted to the ground as you listened to the unmistakable sound of skin against skin, of fabric rustling rhythmically together, and you squeezed your eyes shut. You felt your cunt throb when you heard his soft groans and you knew you should have left, you should have given him privacy, but you didn't. You couldn't. You ached for him for so long and not one time had you ever seen this side to him. He never so much as flirted with you, even just innocently, so you weren't willing to let this moment pass you by.

The clouds finally parted and the moon shined down, trickling through the thick forest. Opening your eyes, you could now see his shadow reflecting on the forest floor. You could see how fast his fist worked himself over, you could hear how eager he was for release, you could practically smell his sweat from where you were standing.

But then something happened.

He groaned again, but that time he groaned your name.

You were certain of it, unless you were in a dream and your mind was playing tricks on you.

He groaned your name.

Before common decency had a chance to catch up, you spoke, interrupting him.

"Joel?"

The sounds ceased. It was deathly quiet, and you feared you made a huge mistake. What were you thinking?

He said your name again, but it was a question. No breathy moans slipped from his mouth this time.

"What's wrong?"

He came around the tree appearing put together, and if it weren't for the flush in his cheeks and the tightness of his jeans, you might have convinced yourself it was all a mirage.

"Nothing. W-what are you doing?"

His eyes flickered around in shame, looking everywhere but at you.

"What did you hear?" he finally asked softly.

"I heard enough."

He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

"Listen-" he began, but you cut him off.

"I wanted to do that with you. You could have asked me."

His eyes popped back open in shock and it felt like time stood still. Oh, fucking hell, what were you doing?!

"What?"

Well, there was no going back now. You reholstered your gun and took a tentative step forward.

"You said my name," you told him, voice barely above a whisper. You could see him swallow as you inched closer.

"I did."

"Were you thinking... of me?" you squeaked. Slowly, he nodded, and that time if he felt any shame, he didn't show it. "I think about you, too," you confessed, taking another step closer.

"You do?"

You nodded, biting your lower lip nervously as you continued to advance. "All the time."

"Fuck," he groaned, then quickly closed the remaining distance between you. He grabbed your face with both hands, cupping your jaw, and smashed his mouth hungrily against yours.

When he swiped his tongue across your lower lip, you could have melted into the ground right then and there. Was this really happening?

His tongue slid past your lips, exploring your mouth with his jaw pried open as if he were trying to swallow you whole. And you would let him, if that's what he wanted. You trusted him with your life, you craved his touch, dreamt about the taste of his lips, and fantasized about what he would do to quell the constant ache between your legs.

Joel walked you backwards, back towards camp. Your eyes were closed and you refused to remove yourself from his mouth, so you relied on your ears and feet to guide you through sound and touch, but you knew it didn't matter. Joel had you, and he never let anything bad happen. He wouldn't allow it.

He eased you down onto his sleeping bag before he finally broke the kiss, both your chests heaving from the effort to drag in much needed air as you each worked on removing your clothes as quickly as possible. You knew Joel so well by now that he wouldn't want you to be too exposed, just in case, so you only focused on your lower half, and he did the same.

"Are you sure?" he asked when he was kneeling between your legs, poised to enter you. You spread your legs wider and nodded. You wanted to tell him you'd been waiting for so long, that you couldn't stand another second without him, but when you felt that delicious sting between your legs when he first pressed forward, your mind went blank.

"So tight," he gritted out, fingers digging mercilessly into your hips, no doubt leaving circular bruises you would cherish for days.

You cried out his name when he finally fully sheathed himself inside you, only to have him clamp his palm over your mouth.

"Gotta be quiet," he reminded you, but his voice was tender and his breath was ragged and you had a feeling his warning was for you both.

When you nodded, he slid his hand away and groaned quietly as he shifted his weight slightly on top of you before slowly pulling almost all the way out. His eyes flicked up to meet yours so he could watch your face contort when he slammed back in, something animalistic coming alive inside him at the way your back arched and your jaw hung open, a silent scream on your lips every time he rolled his hips and stretched you open, molding you to him.

Your senses came alive as he fucked steadily into you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge with every forceful thrust. Every grunt sounded like a melody, every greedy stroke of his fingers left a firey trail. When he could tell you were both getting close, his mouth crashed over yours again and you tasted the metallic flavor of his blood from where he had bit down too hard on his lip.

"I'm gonna find someplace for us," he whispered, voice trembling from the way your walls squeezed around him. "Someplace we can live. Someplace safe."

You nodded your head deliriously, too focused on the steady rise of your orgasm, your stomach tensing each time his cock brushed up against one particular spot that made it difficult to breathe.

"Then you can be as loud as you want," he continued, mouth dipping to bite and suck on your neck. Your fingers twisted in the fabric of his flannel, the worn material begging to be torn under your grip. "Just me and you. I'll take care of you. Won't let anythin' bad happen."

You nodded again, tears pricking your eyes.

"Would you like that?" he asked, his words muffled by your skin as he continued to lick and kiss and suck on the column of your throat, leaving more marks to serve as a reminder that night happened, that what you had was real.

"Yes," you moaned, "oh, god, yes, Joel, it's all I've ever wanted."

You thought you heard him whimper but then his hips began to snap roughly against you, sending shockwaves through your body with each devastating stroke.

"Joel, I think I'm gonna-" you gasped and cut yourself off, your vision blurring for a moment before his hand pressed firmly over your mouth once again, capturing your cries while your body tensed and slowly began to relax underneath him. Not until your eyes reopened did he remove his hand to be replaced with his mouth. You bent your legs so your knees were pressed against the sides of his ribs, holding him close, your tongue licking feverishly behind his teeth.

At the last moment, he yanked his hips back and spilled his seed all over the inside of your thighs, keeping his mouth pressed firmly against yours until he was done painting your skin milky white.

"All this time?" he panted, gazing down at you while you both took a few moments to recover. "All these years?"

You nodded and brushed some of his hair away from his sweaty forehead. "From the first day."

His eyes slid closed in disbelief. "Why didn't you tell me? We wasted so much time."

You smiled and sighed, breathing in the cool night air. It was going to rain soon, you could smell it.

"All we have is time."

[sleepyjuice]

44 - maybe its raining n reader is walking to the chateau by herself so jj rushes out to meet her and walk her <3

When you texted jj 15 minutes ago that you were on your way to meet him, the skies were clear and it was beautiful out, so you decided to walk the 25 minute walk to the chateau instead of taking your bike.

That proved itself to be a horrible decision as shortly into your walk, you heard thunder rumbling in the distance and you looked up to see the sky was getting darker by the second.

You quickened your pace, your early afternoon stroll turning into more of a power walk, hoping you could make it in time to not get rained on.

It seemed as if your desire to not get rained on somehow triggered the rain to begin coming down just moments after your thought.

“Oh, fuck me.” You groaned to yourself, wrapping your arms around yourself as you began jogging now, your clothes and hair quickly becoming soaked as the rain poured down.

You had about ten minutes left before you would arrive at the chateau, yet it seemed like hours as you trudged through the nasty weather, your shoes sloshing as they filled with water.

“Yo! Babe!” A voice startled you through the sound of the rainfall hitting the ground, your head shooting over just down the street where jj was running towards you with an umbrella. Where the fuck did he get an umbrella?

“Jesus, you’re fucking soaked. Not in the good way.” jj said as he approached you, immediately holding the umbrella over your head, leaning into you to share it.

You rolled your eyes at his words, but your shoulders sagged in relief at his presence, utterly grateful he had come to rescue you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, gathering your hair to the side to wring out some of the water it had collected.

“Came to get ya. Knew you were walking and saw it started down pouring shortly after you left. I would’ve taken the Twinkie but John b has it.” He explained as you finally reached the chateau, hurrying onto the covered porch.

You shivered once the air conditioning hit you, wishing you had dressed appropriately for the rain and jealous of jj’s dry state.

“God, it’s freezing.” You sighed as you kicked your shoes and socks off, setting them on the porch to hopefully dry eventually.

jj wasted no time grabbing you a towel, wrapping it around your shoulders and rubbing it down your arms and your sides.

“My poor baby.” he cooed, drying off your exposed skin a bit more before he pulled you into his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

He helped you out of your clothes and you didn’t protest, allowing him to discard the wet clothing in the bathroom, leaving you naked in front of him. His eyes shamelessly scanned over your exposed body in front of him, admiring the sight, but he didn’t make any moves on you, knowing you were cold and uncomfortable. That could wait for later.

He finished drying you off, giving the top of your head a soft kiss before grabbing one of his shirts and a pair of basketball shorts he had, slipping the shirt over your head and handing you the shorts.

You sighed at the feeling of comfort, now being in dry clothing. Your hair was still a bit wet, but you had pulled it into a bun to deal with later.

“Thank you, jay.” You looked up at his gratefully, beyond appreciative of his actions. You would have been way worse off if he hadn’t gotten to you when he did.

“C’mere sweet girl.” He hummed, hands finding your waist as he pulled you down into his bed with him, his grip firm as he pulled you into his chest, your body curling into him immediately.

“Mm,” you hummed contently, “you’re so warm.” He grinned as you relaxed into him, his strong arms holding you close, hands gently massaging your back.

“Yeah? Thought that usually bugged you. What is it you say in the middle of the night? I’m a human furnace? That I heat up the whole bed?” He chuckled, referring to how hot he got when he slept, which inevitably would make you burn up as well.

“You are, you do,” you giggled, “but right now that’s exactly what I need.”

[mochiwonz]

─── YOU'RE ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS ୨୧

PAIRING. fem!reader x jake sim .ᐟ FEATURING. riki (enhypen) & yoonchae (katseye) CONTENT. strangers to lovers , romance , fluff , cursing , petnames , reader calls yoonchae ' chae ' and riki ' rikster ' and has other nicknames for them too ^ ^ WORD COUNT. 4.3k NOTE. literally spent a whole day trying to figure out how to make my christmas theme cute...so i hope it doesn't disappoint (ᵕ—ᴗ—) enjoyy :D

[ 🧸 ] ... ️ ㅤ' make my wish come true , all i want for christmas is you '

oh how you loved winter. you loved the snow, the chilly weather, the smell of freshly baked cookies and pine tree, being able to snuggle up under your comforter and three other blankets, and most of all— you absolutely loved christmas. but you felt like something had been missing for the past two christmases, you felt lonely.

and instead of something, it might've been someone you were missing.

you always felt like christmas was the best time of the year. wait, scratch that, you knew christmas was the best time of the year. there was always this joy and comfort of christmas that you couldn't really explain, it was just something so special. but of course, you're an adult now and you don't know what happened— but some of that magic had just faded. you didn't really know why or what happened, maybe it was just you becoming an adult and growing up.

but finally, you realized what the problem was after talking with your bestfriends, riki and yoonchae.

you felt lonely. you didn't feel that joy of having company. and even though you had your friends and family, it felt like you yearned for something more. or a special someone, a significant other.

for awhile, you had yourself convinced all you needed was you, your family, your friends, and some food. however, after watching a few k-dramas and seeing couples literally everywhere— social media and while you were out an about, you couldn't help but want a boyfriend, too.

you didn't know who this boyfriend would be, when you would be able to find a boyfriend, and how you'd do it, but you were getting kind of desperate. i mean, you had a whole pinterest board for things you wanted to do with your future boyfriend...yeah.

you had your doubts, maybe you wouldn't end up finding a boyfriend. but riki and yoonchae were sure, very sure, that your certain someone was out there waiting for you— and they were right!

now, enter sim jaeyun, or what everyone calls him, jake.

jake was just like you, he loved christmas and everything that had to with it, as well. and he was also going what you were going through, that lonely feeling. yeah, he really wanted a girlfriend. he wanted someone that would have genuine interest in him, someone that was funny, someone that was pretty, and of course— someone that absolutely loved the christmas season.

luckily for you, you checked all of those boxes.

today was november 30th, a few weeks 'till christmas. the joy was there, but also kind-of not. yesterday, yoonchae had asked you if you could go christmas shopping with her today, and of course you said yes. you just decided to brush off that lonely feeling, you were going to hang out with your bestie today, anyways!

and thank god you decided to go shopping with her, because if you didn't— you would've never met him.

yoonchip : hey girlie yoonchip: u still up for tday?

you: hey :) you: yeah, i'll meet u at xxx !!

yoonchip: sounds good ^ ^ see u at 5

right, you guys were meeting at 5pm and it was— oh shit.

it was already 3pm?!?

you don't know why you always lost track of time, but you did. so, you washed up, picked out a cute outfit— fit for the holiday season, and did your hair and makeup. you managed to get ready in just an hour and a half, which was quite rare for you.

your outfit :

you felt much better after getting ready and all dolled up. you were excited to walk around town and shop with yoonchae, you really did need an outing. and yes, it was snowing!

you wanted to bury yourself in the snow, it was just so gorgeous.

you made yourself a warm peppermint latte and sat down next to your large window, looking out at the pretty environment. the snow, the people, the way the sun was setting, it looked like a scene out of a movie.

you pick up your phone, remembering you had to go meet up with yoonchae. you quickly finish your latte, grab your scarf, and exit your apartment.

after what seemed like a long 16 minute drive to the town, you had finally made it. the pretty christmas decorations on all the buildings, the decorated christmas trees surrounding the street, and the warm yellow lights made you feel so happy.

you quickly walked to the shop where you were meeting yoonchae, and there she was— your bestfriend.

"chae!!" you exclaim while running up to yoonchae excitedly.

she's startled, but realizes it's just you and turns around to give you a warm bear hug. you really loved spending time with yoonchae, she was one of the few people you trusted most in your life. you really saw her as your younger sister.

"y/n!! i missed youuu" she says, you both still hugging one another.

"missed you more chae, now let's shop before all the stores close" you respond and she nods in agreement.

in a span of 45 minutes, you guys had went to 4 stores and already had 2 bags in hand each. let's just say both of you ended up shopping more for yourself rather than shopping for gifts.

"oh my god chae, my arms are already tired" you say, sounding exhausted.

"me too, want to just go back to your place?" she suggests, sounding just as exhausted as you are.

"no, not yet, i still have to find gifts for riki, and he's gonna have an attitude if i show up with nothing for him, ya know?" you explain, and yoonchae nods and rolls her eyes. riki was your guy's bestfriend, and he was supposed to be hanging out with you guys— but of course, he totally forgot.

you both sit down on a bench and place your bags down, giving your guy's poor arms a break. you and yoonchae decide that you just wanted to take a quick break, scrolling on social media for a little and enjoying the snow.

little did you know, a certain someone had been watching— no, admiring you from afar. that someone was none other than jake sim.

you first caught his eye when you were in the same clothing store as him, shopping around with yoonchae. you'd walked by him, and he got a whiff of your perfume— you smelt just like vanilla and freshly baked cookies. he immediately turned to look at you and holy shit, you were gorgeous, you looked like a dream. he never thought he had an ideal type, well, until he saw you.

he was in a trance, just staring at you. thank god you hadn't seen him, you probably would've thought he was a weirdo. the way you were dressed, your silky hair, your pretty big eyes, your voice, shit, he was falling in love.

and he overheard you talking to yoonchae about how much you loved the christmas decorations and snow outside, oh my god. something in him was telling him that you guys were soulmates, and he had to talk to you somehow— it was now or never.

he quickly shakes off the nerves and slowly makes his way across the street, towards you. at first, you don't notice. but yoonchae does, and she nudges your shoulder.

"y/n, girl, look up" she whispers and quickly looks back down at her phone.

you look up and holy shit, he's so pretty. his hair was so fluffy, he had such a tall nose bridge and pretty plump lips and wait, he's walking towards you? fuck, you could already feel your hands getting clammy.

and before you know it, this insanely handsome man was standing right in front of you, smiling while looking down at you. he looked kind-of nervous, but you found it quite cute.

"hey uhm, i'm jake. i just saw you from over there" he points to the store across the street, "and not to be weird, i just thought you were so gorgeous and uhm—" he cuts himself off, he's just rambling at this point. he can't bear to look you in the eyes, he's too nervous.

' goddamn jake, cmon, don't scare her away ' he thinks.

you giggle at the way he suddenly freezes, looking at the ground.

"thanks jake, that's sweet of you. i'm y/n" you say while smiling, and he almost melted. your voice sounded so sweet, so pretty.

you quickly look over at yoonchae and you spot a slight smirk on her face, as if she's holding back a little laugh.

you did sound kind-of nervous, and she was probably going to tease you about this afterwards.

"yeah of course, so like, is there any way that i could get your number? or i could give you mine, uhm yeah anything works" he says, sounding just as nervous as you were.

you can't help but smile at him, he was so cute. and of course you were going to give him your number, how could you not?

"of course, here" you tell him while handing him your phone, "you can put your number and name in"

he was smiling, really hard. he was getting your number, or wait, you were getting his number, whatever. and the cherry on top? you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. he definitely wasn't going to be able to sleep tonight, that's for sure.

"yeah uhm, thanks y/n, i'll text you later" jake says while giving you your phone back, finally looking you in the eyes and shit, he might've just peed himself.

your eyes were so...sparkly...?

you smile at him, your heart was basically melting at this point.

"okay, text you later jake!" you say while giggling as he walks away, you can't help it— he's so cute. you've never met a guy that had this effect on you, maybe jake was special.

as soon as he's out of sight, yoonchae wheezes.

"yoonchae i almost shat myself—"

she wheezes again and puts her hand on your shoulder.

"i know girl, i could tell but did you see him? he looked so in love, so lovey dovey, maybe he's your christmas present" she says, teasingly.

"yoonchae stop" you laugh while playfully shoving her, but maybe she was right.

maybe he was your christmas present, and perhaps you were his. you just weren't quite aware of that yet.

after another hour, you and yoonchae both parted ways. and as soon as you got to your apartment, you absolutely freaked the fuck out. all of the excitement just came rushing out of you, and frankly— you didn't even know that you were that happy, after just meeting a guy.

well, a really cute guy.

once you calmed down a bit, you decided to change into your comfortable gingerbread pajamas and go onto instagram. what you expected was to just see your normal feed, your friend's posts and whatnot. what you didn't expect to see, at all, was jake's post right there— all up in your face. you guessed it was because he was in your contacts now but shit, he looked so good in person and online.

you were contemplating if you should like the post and follow him, until you realized he had already followed you and actually left you a text message.

jake: hey y/n :))

you pause for a second and text him back.

you: hii jake

while waiting for a response, you hop back onto instagram and follow him. i mean, it's fine, he was already following you.

your eyes were blessed with his face when you clicked onto his profile. you were also looking at his other posts, and you found out he had a dog named layla, cute.

jake: i see you liking my posts jake: hehe

you giggle.

you: okay annddd? you: you literally followed me first and liked 90% of my posts

jake: damn, you got me there jake: jake 0 , y/n 1 jake: lol, anyways i was wondering what ur interests are?

you sit and think for a good minute, your interests only really had to do with winter and christmas, and maybe watching movies?

you: i'm kinda boring :p you: i really like christmas, and snow, and i guess watching movies

you see that he reads the text, but after one minute— he still hasn't responded. god, was he laughing at how boring you were?

unbeknownst to you, he was actually kicking his feet and giggling. so you did really like christmas. and you liked the snow and watching movies, too? fuck, you were his perfect match.

jake: sorry had to go get smth jake: but that's cool, and ur not boring :) i rlly like christmas too

you let out a sigh of relief after reading his texts.

your guy's conversation goes on for another one and a half hours, talking about your interests and stuff related to christmas. he was so interested in christmas, just like you. your heart was beating out of your chest, in a good way of course.

after you both said your "goodnights" to each other, you had tried to fall asleep. but you couldn't. you were daydreaming, about him, jake, his pretty face and cute personality. how he loved christmas and movies just like you did. how he didn't find you boring.

you wondered if he was already fast asleep, or daydreaming just like you.

and yes, he was indeed daydreaming— just like you were.

he'd never felt so comfortable around someone, let alone a female. he'd never really been good at even talking to females since, well, ever. he loved how you had the same humor and interests as him, he loved how naturally cute you were, and of course— he loved how you rambled about how much you loved the christmas season.

fast forward a little more than a week later, you and jake had been "talking" and god, he was your dream guy. you were sure of it now.

he was respectful, always holding doors open for you and walking you to your apartment when it was dark. he always complimented you and told you how gorgeous you were, even if you hadn't brushed your hair or gotten all dolled up. and best of all, he was always listening when you talked, even about the stupidest things. even when you were rambling about how gingerbread pajamas are cuter than snowman pajamas, he was genuinely listening.

oh, and you absolutely adored his smile and the way he laughed. honestly, he was like a human golden retriever.

you were falling for him, but...did he feel the same for you?

the quick answer, is yes, definitely yes.

he was sure that he was already in love with you when he laid eyes on you that first day. you looked so unreal and beautiful, and your personality was just as beautiful, too. that's what really locked him in. you were sweet, caring, funny, loved animals, loved christmas, and enjoyed making legos with him.

yeah, you were the one.

he just hadn't found the balls to ask you out properly, yet. but he knew he had to, at least before christmas.

today was the 14th of december and for some reason, jake decided that he actually had the balls today. you'd invited him over to make some cute christmas legos and watch home alone together, and of course he couldn't say no.

once he arrived to your place, he was in awe of how pretty you had decorated it. your tree was beautiful, ornaments and all. and your house smelt like a warm hug, like vanilla and christmas tree. but what he was even more in awe of was how beautiful you were, i mean, every time he saw you he was in awe.

but wow, you looked so gorgeous with your bare face. the way your hair was in a messy bun and you were in your cute little gingerbread pajamas, he just wanted to squish you. in a loving way, of course.

"hey jae, come in!" you say as you open the door. you'd started calling him jae, and he didn't mind it. in fact, he thought it was quite cute.

he ruffles your hair as he walks by you.

"wow y/n, your place is so pretty" he says, and you thank him.

"okay so, the lego set is already ready to be made over there" you point to your living room, "but i was actually thinking of doing face masks before..." you grin at him, "wanna do a face mask with me?" you ask while giving him puppy eyes, of course he couldn't say no.

the thing is, he never really knew what a face mask did, or how to do it, but he just wanted to make you happy, and it really did.

you had bought special christmas face masks for this special occasion, and jake— of course, found you adorable. you gave him a santa one and you gave yourself a snowman. and after finally putting the face masks on, you decided to take some cute selfies with him.

' we look like a couple ' you think, and you feel your ears start to get all red and hot.

"y/n? why are your ears so...red?" he asks, slightly giggling while brushing his hair back with his pretty fingers.

god, this was embarrassing, really embarrassing. he looked so beautiful and naturally just perfect, and you here you were, looking like a blushing mess.

and yeah, you might've thought of it as embarrassing, but jake was even more embarrassed because of how cute he found your red ears. he was already so in love with you, and at this point— he was really holding back the urge to just kiss your pretty face.

"uh i'm just cold, here wait, i'll go turn on the heater" you say, quickly getting up to go turn on the heater, even though that wasn't really the cause of your red ears.

he just nods and stares, he can't help it— you're literally the cutest in every way possible.

30 minutes later, you find yourselves building the lego set together. it's so much fun, you never had an interest in legos before this, but now you definitely did.

"jae—"

he quickly looks up from whatever he's doing, did you just call him jae? he felt his heart beat a little quicker at the cute nickname, he wishes you would accidentally call him that more often.

"sorry jake, uhm" you clear your throat, "i'm kind-of hungry" you mumble, focused on trying to piece together a lego.

"not going to lie, me too. oh my god, y/n, let's make ramen and hot chocolate" he suggests eagerly, but you turn your head in confusion. you've never heard of that combo before, but you were willing to try it since he was so excited about it.

"okay, i need a break from this anyways" you laugh, "i have all my ramens and instant noodles in the cabinet next to the stove" you tell him, as you go to get your phone from the couch, first.

he immediately gets up and happily runs to the cabinet, cute. he got so excited about little things, and it made your heart melt. he was so...genuine.

"i'll make chapagetti!" he says, grabbing a pot and filling it with water.

"okay, i'll make the hot chocolate" you respond, walking over to the kitchen and grabbing your needed ingredients.

you're both focused, he's making his favorite chapagetti, and you're making your y/n signature hot chocolate. there was silence, but a comfortable one. you liked it, and so did he.

however, you're interrupted by a knock on the door. you hadn't invited anyone except for jake. you curiously walk over to the front door and open it.

"hey miss y/n" riki says as you open the door.

"hey rikster" you respond, "i didn't invite you but come in, i guess..." you tell him, rolling your eyes playfully.

you notice the present in his hands.

"is that for me?" you ask curiously, but also matching his playful tone.

"might be..." he responds while putting the gift on a small table near the entrance.

"oh and i have a guest over—" you try to tell him while walking over to the kitchen, but you're cut off by riki's excitement.

"jake hyung?!" he exclaims while running up to jake, who is caught off guard.

"oh my god, riki" jake laughs, "wait— how do you know y/n?"

"bro, i've literally told you about her" riki says while plopping onto your couch, his favorite part about your place.

"wait" riki says, smirking at you and then at jake.

"are you two dating or something? why are you here jake?" he asks teasingly while raising one of his eyebrows.

you both freeze. you wished riki would just shut the fuck up sometimes, honestly.

you quickly glance at jake, and his cheeks are slightly pink. he was just as flustered as you, and that somehow made you feel little butterflies in your stomach.

"riki shut the fuck up for once, please— we aren't dating" you say sternly while scratching your nape.

you and jake weren't dating, but fuck, you really wished you were.

you catch how jake's expression slightly changed when you told riki that you two weren't dating, did he feel the same way you did?

jake thought he made it obvious, but i guess not.

"anyways" he clears his throat, "i finished making the chapagetti" jake says, placing his finished ramen on the counter.

wow, it looked good.

"nice! the hot chocolate is done, too" you respond.

you were about to pull out a chair for you to sit on but jake beats you at it, and pulls out the chair for you.

you just stare at him, you're taken aback. how could one be so respectful and funny, yet so beautiful? is he even real? you were actually wondering if you were hallucinating him.

"y/n this isn't a k-drama" riki reminds you while laughing, and you're embarassed.

"shut the fuck up" you tell him, annoyed and embarassed because he literally just did what does best— calling you out.

jake just lets out a little laugh, still waiting for you to sit.

"ah sorry, thanks jae" you thank him and of course, you accidentally blurt out that cute nickname. you feel your heart drop to your ass, silently praying that riki wouldn't tease you.

he just nods and smiles at you, seemingly nonchalant. however, he was jumping and giggling and screaming on the inside.

you brush it off and you both start enjoying the food, and damn is it good.

"wow y/n" his eyes widening as he takes a sip of the hot chocolate, "your hot chocolate might be better than mine"

you playfully smack his arm, but end up accidentally feeling the muscle. the world was against you right now, you were convinced.

"thanks mister sim" you tell him, trying to play off whatever the fuck just happened to you.

after eating, you both continued building the cute lego set together with riki bothering you guys the whole time.

"awh you two look like a couple"

"are you sure you guys aren't dating?"

"couple goals"

"you guys win couple of the year"

"oh my god riki can you shut the fuck up" jake finally snaps. he might sound disapproving, but he wishes that riki's words were true.

"damn, my bad bro" riki says while playfully putting his arms up, and you giggle. you had no clue they knew each other, but you don't mind it.

once you guys finished the lego, you took a picture of it and placed it on your coffee table. the lego set was two reindeers in a winter wonderland, and for some reason— it reminded you of you and jake.

now, you're both sat on the couch with a blanket over both of you. yeah you were sharing a blanket, but it wasn't weird for friends...right?

"cute" jake accidentally blurts out.

you assume that he's talking about the lego and you nod your head in agreement. however, you don't notice that he's literally staring at you.

"i'm gonna go now" riki says, getting up from the couch. finally, you were waiting for him to get his ass out of here.

"bye" you and jake say in unison.

"bye lovebirds" riki says playfully as he exits, and now there's silence. not as comfortable as earlier, either.

you're fidgeting with your nails, why was the silence so loud. you glance over at jake, and you're taken aback at how he's already looking at you.

this was his chance. he had to do it now.

"y/n" he says gently.

"mhm?" you hum, staring down at your hands.

"i like you" he tells you.

your brain shuts off, oh my fucking god. jake did feel the same way.

you slowly look up and you're met with jake's pretty brown eyes staring right into yours. he has the sweetest smile on his face, you almost started tearing up.

"jae"

his heart melts at the nickname.

"i like you, too."

oh my god, he could scream.

"really?" he asks softly while brushing your hair behind your ear.

"yeah" you respond in almost a mumble, you know your cheeks are red as fuck right now. your ears, too.

instantly, jake gently pulls you closer and wraps his arms around you. you smell so good, just like vanilla. he slowly brushes your hair with his fingers, head resting on your shoulder.

"this okay, pretty girl?"

you smile at the petname and how adorably soft his voice sounds.

"more than okay, jae"

you were both unexplainably happy right now, and stuck in unbelief. you had found your perfect match, your person.

you finally found the person that you'd be able to spend your christmases with. he was all you wanted and needed for christmas.

jake sim was the best present you could've ever wished for.

please like, reblog, and comment if u enjoyed :3 u can find my other works here !

© mochiwonz ― all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, or translate my work.

[house-of-lovin]

legally binded - 7

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. | prev. part | next part

Chapter 7: The Afterparty

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: dual!pov, famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: so... lovely weather we're having. 🙂

Word Count: 4k+

“Where’s Y/N?” Enrique asked as the door of the van shuts closed, for a moment, the incessant sounds of camera shutters and the crowd shouting her name become muffled.

And in that same moment, Jenna feels like she can finally breathe properly through her own lungs. 

“Upstairs,” Jenna mumbled, leaning her expertly pinned hair against the headrest, and closing her eyes.

“I take it things didn’t go well?” He fiddled with his cap, frowning as he watched the young actress’ exhausted features.

Jenna hummed in confirmation but said nothing else, looking out the tinted window as the van started driving slowly. 

Staring up at the hotel, she scanned the various, nearly identical windows for your hotel room. Jenna didn’t even know if your room was facing this direction but she looked anyway, a wishful part of herself hoped to catch a glance of you.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be okay. You two will be okay.”

Jenna snorted, shooting her stylist an incredulous look. “I thought you were mad at her?”

“I’m mad at her for being stupid and for hurting you… even if she is a cutie.” He rolled his eyes, getting comfortable in his seat.

The actress laughed. “Don’t let her hear you say that, you know she has a massive ego.”

Enrique joined in on the laughter before his tone dropped, “You know Sarah and Liv are going to find out that the two of you didn't go to the same party…”

Right now, Jenna could care less about whatever kind of consequence she may get. The embers from her argument with you are still burning bright.

“That’s an issue for later.”

***

Jenna tried to make the best of a bad situation.

She really did.

Even though this wasn’t how she expected to spend the rest of her night — she somehow found a way to let loose. Maybe after she found a few familiar faces that pulled her in to dance, tipped back a few drinks and sang along as Janelle Monae performed for her after-party.

But even still, under the guise of alcohol and a good time. There was an unpleasant churn in her stomach whenever she allowed her mind to drift off to you.

“I’m gonna go to the washroom!” Jenna yelled through the music. Enrique nodded, continuing to cheer Janelle Monae on stage.

Laughing, she walked away while shaking her head; amused at her friend. Glad that he’s having a good time. One of them deserves to be having fun, at least.

As Jenna pushed through the heavy-panelled door of the powder room, she sat on the couch and placed her purse down. Grateful to be stretching her aching legs. 

She takes a second to breathe and in that moment, allowed herself to think about you; wondering which party you went to and who you were surrounded by.

And for a split second, that unpleasant churn in her stomach reemerged as her mind drifted to all the worst possible outcomes of what you could be doing tonight.

Are you safe?

Is someone looking out for you?

Jenna’s decided not to ask Link about you this time, deciding that you two do, in fact, need space for the time being.

She knows she should apologize for the way she acted all day, even all week. Jenna knows she was just projecting her unresolved feelings about you from Coachella and instead of just telling you that she’s been worried and just wants you to talk to her, to let her in. 

She decided to be petty and give into the heat of the moment, instead..

Jenna hopes the two of you can talk about it later tonight. But then she remembers the fact that you’re probably drinking, partying and doing god knows what else so that conversation and apology would probably have to wait until you’ve sobered up.

Standing, Jenna's decided she's had enough of wallowing in her own misery and walked over to the sink to wash her hands.

“Oh, hi!” A sweet-sounding higher pitched voice greeted her from behind after the sound of a door opening and heels clinking.

Immediately, she linked gazes with a certain Hailee Steinfeld through the mirror.

Jenna tried hard to school the surprise on her face.

“Hello…” Jenna smiled politely and glanced away, continuing to wash her hands.

“I’m Hailee…” The other woman greeted, sliding into the sink beside her, a pearly white smile on her full-pink lips.

“I’m Jenna, I would shake your hand but…” She gestured down to the running sink.

Hailee shook her head and laughed. “It’s okay, I’m glad to finally meet you! Can I just say how gorgeous you look! I thought your carpet look was amazing but this — you look stunning!”

“Oh! Uh— Thanks?” This time her surprise is hard to subdue. Feeling flushed under the weight of the other woman’s compliments.

She's never been great at accepting them. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you embarrassed,” Hailee smiled sheepishly. Her thick brows furrowing in her own embarrassment. 

The heat begins to crawl up her neck. “It’s okay! I— I appreciate it. You look gorgeous as well.” 

Taking the time to scan her, the younger actress has to crane her neck up to see Hailee’s face — it’s no wonder you ended up dating her. The woman is gorgeous. 

She tries to stave the green-eyed monster clawing at her chest at the thought of you two together because the woman standing across from her has been surprisingly pleasant.

“Please!” Hailee waves off, smiling softly, turning to wash her own hands.

Jenna allows the silence to take over the room, unsure of what to say next. After washing her hands, she turned off the sink and walked over to grab paper towels.

Hailee cuts in before she can think about it too hard.

“Hey,” The singer called out as Jenna was about to pick up her purse, “thank you... for looking out for her.”

“What?” Jenna turned, raising her brows in question.

Hailee sighed, leaning against the counter to face Jenna.

“I know Y/N’s not the… easiest. She tends to push people away. I think it’s just the way she’s always been. I’m not really sure. With the whole Vegas situation and these rumours going around about a possible arrest — which, you know, is bullshit, Y/N doesn’t do drugs — her first instinct would’ve been to run and push people away. But you’re still here… so something tells me you’re special.”

Jenna feels her heart drop at the other woman’s words. 

“Y/N can be reckless and cold at times, but I think it’s just an act," She continued; smile contorting sadly, “so she doesn’t actually have to open up to people… I’ve—uh, tried, so I kinda know.”

Jenna was stunned, unsure of what to say to that. Hailee made it sound like you were the one that got away or something. She also caught the openness that accompanied her tone, like the other woman had accepted the circumstances of the situation.

Like she just... let it be.

There wasn’t a lot of things Jenna was certain about but she knew she didn't want to feel that way about you, to just accept your coldness and inability to let people in.

“Anyways, she said you’ve kept her standing on her feet these last few months.” Hailee smiled softly, sincerity burning bright in her eyes. “So thank you, 'cause she deserves someone patient like you.” 

“Thank you…” Jenna finally managed to say despite the barbed wire feeling around her throat.

You really said that? Did you mean it?

If you did then she feels terrible.

“No, thank you, I was scared Link and Y/N were gonna grow old and still be living together. They’re weirdly co-dependent.” Hailee jokes, breaking the heaviness in the room.

Jenna couldn’t help the snort that leaves her mouth. 

And just like that, it felt like two friends enjoying an inside joke.

Jenna's laughter trails off before it turns to a heavy sigh as she grabs her purse. “So I should probably apologize to her, huh?”

The corner of Hailee's mouth tugs a small smug smile. “Depends on what she did… maybe let her sweat it out for a bit more then apologize.”

Jenna chuckled before nodding. “Noted… thank you, Hailee.”

Hailee nods, smiling softly as Jenna turned to walk out of the bathroom.

A surprisingly pleasant feeling appeared in her chest the farther she walked away.  

She felt a bit lighter after that conversation, which is a shock considering she just talked to your ex-girlfriend. For a moment, Jenna felt guilty for her earlier reservations about the other woman. Not wanting to admit that she had let her jealousy cloud her judgment of character.

Hailee had nothing but great things to say about her — and you for that matter. A testament to how, despite your hot and cold demeanour, there’s someone worth knowing underneath.

Ugh. She hated it when she was wrong.

But there was also that nagging echo in her head that had to admit that she was glad she was wrong about you.

I’m sorry for what I said. Can I come see you? Are you still at the other after-party?

Swallowing her pride, she hit send then walked back to the party to find Enrique, hoping she can distract herself as she waits for your reply.

20 minutes go by without a response and Jenna doesn’t know if she should start feeling annoyed or worried; the line between the two is thinning by the second, she concluded. She decided she leaned more on the latter and stepped away from the party once again. Roaming the halls before stepping out onto a secluded balcony; grateful for the warm night in the early May month. 

Pulling out her phone from her clutch, she called Link immediately, knowing that if anyone knew your whereabouts it’d be him.

“Hello?” Link answered breathlessly and in the background, the actress can hear sounds of traffic and people talking over one another.

“Link? Can you hear me?” Jenna spoke into the lonely night air.

“Yeah— yeah, sorry.” It sounded like Link walked away from the noise because when he spoke again, it sounded much clearer. But she immediately noted the urgency in his voice. “Hey.”

“Hey, I texted Y/N 20 minutes ago but she didn’t respond, is everything okay?” Jenna got to the point, chewing her lip.

“Shit—“ Link cursed. “Uh, about that.”

“Link, what does that mean?” Jenna felt every muscle in her body tense at his words, like before a big drop on a rollercoaster.

“We can’t find her.” Link confessed. 

Jenna’s stomach dropped. Yeah, except that rollercoaster has just derailed.

“What do you mean you can’t find her?” 

“We lost her. She said she was going to the bathroom but she never came back.” He recounted nervously.

“What—“ Jenna was dumbfounded, mind on overdrive as a sudden wave of coldness washed over her body as she processes what she’s just been told.

You're missing.

No one knows where you are.

“Are you looking for her now?” Jenna manages to ask, gripping the balcony railing for support. She thinks she feels a little light-headed but she pushes that thought away because you are more important, right now.

“Yes, of course. We checked everywhere. But uh—it’s been almost two hours since anyone’s seen her…” Link hesitated before confessing.

The last thing they need is for Jenna to start freaking out too.

Jenna’s stomach dropped again. This time she feels like she’s been launched off the rollercoaster entirely and is free-falling mid-air.

“Hey, hey, it’ll be okay. She does this, it’s kinda her thing. We’ll find her soon. Don’t worry.” Link reassured after Jenna doesn’t respond.

“When was the last time that she did this, Link?” Jenna asked shakily.

A beat passed before the man answered. “Vegas…”

“Shit…” They said in unison.

“What—what do we do?” Jenna asked.

“Just keep texting and calling her. I’m out looking for her right now, I have her entire security team with me.” He reassured her once again but she can still hear the trepidation in his tone.

“Okay…” Jenna trails off, not really sure if she’s actually listening at this point.

“Jenna— we’ll find her, don’t worry.” Link said with certainty but it didn’t ease the anxiety in her chest.

“I know…” Jenna mumbled, grasping her phone with a mighty grip and forced herself to take a calming breath. “Okay, okay. I’ll start calling her. Maybe I should go back to her room, in case she comes back?”

“Yeah, that’s a great idea, keep me updated Jen.” 

“I will.”

The line goes dead as Link hangs up.

“Shit.” Even with Jenna’s trembling fingers, she contacted your number with haste.

But the call never even rang. 

***

It’s past 2 AM and no one has still heard from you. 

She had left you a total of 26 missed calls and almost 50 text messages. That’s not even counting the ones she’s sent you through Enrique’s phone.

At this point, Jenna was ready to go to the police but Link advised her that they wouldn’t be able to do anything because it hasn’t been 24 hours yet. Your closest confidant also warned her of adding fuel to the fire with the press if headlines that you're missing are released.

The actress feels an excruciatingly sharp pain forming in between her brows; the early stages of a migraine, the longer she paced around your room.

“Where is she, Link?” She chewed on the bottom lip, anxiously. “What if something bad happened? She doesn’t have security with her...”

“Her whole team has been driving around the city looking for her but we already checked the other after-parties and she wasn’t there. I hate to say it, Jenna, but if Y/N doesn’t want to be found, you won’t.” Link sat down on the couch in the living room.

The wrinkled exhaustion and worry were clear as day on his face. Jenna sighed, sitting down beside him. “I know you tried your best. Thank you for looking…”

“Yeah… of course. How are you though?” He turned, scanning her equally exhausted features. 

“I feel terrible if I had just tabled it like she said–”

“Hey–” Link cuts in, shaking his head. “Don’t. Y/N’s gonna do whatever she wants, you can’t put this one on you.” 

Jenna nods unconvincingly, slumping against her seat. “What about you? How are you?”

He stared off, deep in thought. “She’s like my sister, you know. We didn’t have it easy growing up. I know she’s— stand-offish and hard to get along with at times…”

Jenna turned to face him at his sudden confession, deciding to stay silent.

“You can’t even imagine how many times I’ve tried to quit being her assistant.” Link chuckled, looking up at the ceiling. “But I could never really do it. ‘Cause even though she has these massive walls around herself and that annoying-ass nonchalant attitude. I know sometimes this job is a lot… even for her.”

Jenna huffed, slouching back into the soft couch, trying to be understanding. “I know… trust me I know the job, we all do–”

Link shakes his head. “You don’t. Not her story at least…”

Snapping her head to the side, she watches the assistant’s side profile, noting the deep wrinkle on his forehead. “What does that mean?”

She couldn’t help but ask.

He sighed, “It’s not my place to say but Y/N's been through some stuff. Stuff that you wouldn't wish on anyone.”

“What?”

He sighed again, debating if he should open the can of worms. “At the time, I was living with my grandmother. She’s the only family I have left, it’s probably why I can’t let go of Y/N too. The money I make from working with her, I send to take care of my nan… But even with all that, Y/N was dealing with her mom.”

“She told me she was controlling or something — wanted more money?” Jenna scrunched her nose in disgust at how someone can treat their own flesh and blood like that.

“She wasn’t just controlling, Jenna… she tried to sue Y/N over it. She tried to take away her right to make decisions over her own career and when that didn’t work she tried to get her to quit the industry."

Jenna’s stomach dropped. “What?”

Linked nodded, watching Jenna’s stunned reaction. “Yeah… Jake and Liv fought against it. It never turned into a legal case, thank god. The judge dismissed her claims but it really fucked with her head you know. That her own mother could do that to her."

Jenna stared off into nothing as she processed his words.

No wonder you’re so closed off and scared to let people in. She felt sick to her stomach thinking about what you’ve gone through and how, even despite all of that, you still managed to stay standing on your own two feet and carry on as if nothing happened.

She wonders how long it’s been since you’ve really let anyone in.

“I knew she’d been dealing with things… these last few months. She had a packed year last year and her schedule was only getting busier. She never outwardly said it was becoming too much but I could see it. It started small; missing texts, calls, alarms… then she wouldn’t come home cause she was partying all night… it got too much. I think that singer and his friends were taking advantage of her fame but she always brushed me off whenever I said something. We even got into a big fight before Vegas so I stayed with a friend for a couple of days to cool off.”

“Link…” Jenna trailed off, she heard the guilty tone accompanied by his words. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“No… I know. Y/N’s going to do what she wants, I’ve learned to accept it. It still doesn’t make me feel any better that she’s in this situation and that I could’ve done something to prevent it.”

Link cleared his throat, sitting up a bit. “Just saying… from Y/N’s person to the other – I get what you’re feeling. She’s definitely not the easiest but I don’t know… when she shows she cares, you know she means it.”

“You think I’m Y/N’s person?” Jenna asked shocked. “We barely know each other.”

Link rolled his eyes, sending her a flat look. “Yeah ‘cause you two communicate through silent looks and then don’t talk about your feelings. If you guys fix your shit then maybe you can be her person too.” 

Jenna opened her mouth for a rebuttal but the sound of something smacking against the wall interrupted her.

Immediately, the assistant and actress spring up, walking spritely to the foyer. When they round the corner, Jenna is torn between feeling relieved or furious.

They spot you, slumped against the wall nearly slipping on your own two feet, piss-fucking-drunk as you dropped the keycard to the floor.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” Link scoffed but briskly walked over to help you up, throwing your arm over his shoulder. "What the hell happened to you?"

“Sorry for being a disappointment, Dad.” You mumbled as Link dragged you down the hallway. Eyes barely opened and even then, Jenna can see the alcohol-muddled haze through your slow blinks. 

“What the fuck, Y/N?” Jenna echoed as she watched how you had to be carried, too drunk to do it yourself. 

It scared her, this was not a version of you that she liked. 

She doesn’t want to listen to that small voice in her head again, the one that’s saying you’re bad news. You’re a party animal, this is what you do. You’re reckless. But the other part of her wants to give you a chance to explain yourself, especially after what Link just told her – it’s hard to keep that sentiment when you act like this though.

“Oh hey, Jenna.” You waved as if nothing is wrong, toothy smile on your lips. “I tried looking for you at the party… then I realized we fought and that’s why you weren’t with me. Are you still mad at me?”

Jenna didn’t know what to say so she kept quiet and followed Link as he lead you to the bedroom, nearly throwing you onto the mattress. 

“Fuck, Y/N. You can’t keep doing this.” Link sighed out, taking a few steps back from the bed to scan you. 

“Who’s gonna stop me?” You snorted, sitting up to tug your shoes off, chucking them without care.

“Dude, for real? We spent nearly four hours looking for your ass. Do you realize what kind of trouble you could’ve gotten into if–” 

“–yeah, yeah,” You wave off and Jenna can see Link’s eye twitching and jaw clenching in anger. He knew better than to fight with a drunk person. Especially if that person is you. 

He lets out a deep breath, then turned to younger actress, “I can’t be around her right now. I’m sorry.” 

Then he walked away, slamming the door loudly behind him making Jenna flinch. A few seconds of silence pass without a single movement.

“What are you still doing here?” You asked in a snipped tone, breaking the quietude. Jenna doesn’t know if she should feel offended. 

Crossing her arms, she scans your dishevelled attire. Your tie is loose, buttons are undone, and dress shirt is half-tucked – in short, you looked like a hot mess. “I’ve been calling you all night, where have you been?”

“Phone died.” You yanked your blazer off, throwing it on the floor, “and out… drinking.”

“With who? By yourself or with someone?” Jenna asked, walking closer, and helping you take off your tie.

“Doesn’t matter..” You grumbled as she helped you, looking at a spot on the wall and Jenna clenched her jaw cause you were closing up again.

“Well, it matters to me,” She yanked the tie off your neck.

“Why?” You looked up at her.

“What?”

“Why do you care so much? I thought this was all just for the press?” You pushed off the bed, wobbling on your feet. Jenna took a few steps back but kept close, in case you needed help but you shrugged her attempts away.

She tried not to take it personally.

Jenna called after you but you ignored her and just stumbled to the bathroom. She trails behind, still keeping a close eye.

“No, seriously. You kiss me and let me stay with your family and then you shut me down? What kind of fucked up shit is that?” You spoke up, venom laced in your words.

Jenna knows it’s the alcohol talking. But drunk words, sober thoughts?

“Well guess what? Fuck that. I may be closed off but at least I don’t lead people on.” You seethe, stopping in your tracks to spin around and face her.

The anger in your eyes is not an emotion she had seen before. This was different than your other petty disputes and arguments. You meant it.

Jenna blinked, shaking her head furiously, “What? No! That’s not what I’m doing.”

“I don’t care! I’m over it. If you wanna believe the press over me like everyone else, go ahead. I’m fucking used to it.” You grumbled, turning away to keep walking but this time Jenna grabbed your elbow, stopping you.

“Can you just stop for a second and let me explain!” But you yanked back like you’ve been burned and Jenna thinks she can physically feel her heart splitting down the middle. 

“No, fuck that!” You yelled before taking a deep breath, using Jenna's stunned silence as a chance to keep talking. You looked deeply into her eyes and said the next words with pure conviction. ”I’m sick of trusting people and letting them in just to be fucking burned over and over again — After the Met Gala, I’ll go to Jake and Liv and tell them this is over. Next week, it’ll be three months anyway. Then, we’ll never have to see each other again.” 

There was no slurring in your voice or wobble in your stance as you said those words.

Jenna blinked back the tears forming in her eyes, clenching her jaw. Not recognizing this version of you standing across from her.

This isn’t the same person that treated her family kindly and won over their hearts.

This isn’t the same person that won over her heart.

So, she listened.

“Okay….” Jenna nodded weakly, then turned walking out of your room not being able to look into your eyes.

She missed the instant regret in them as you tracked her disappearing figure.

***

i told y’all this slow burn would be slowwwww.

***

taglist is closed

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***

[kittyscupcakeandbunny]

My BFF is a Vampire

18+

BLOOD SUCKERS

Characters: ot7 x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, described sex scenes, death, consumption of alcohol and blood, threesome, male and male intercourse, explicit sexual interactions, sharp objects, knife play, wax play, blood play, and more.

Genre: supernatural, fantasy, vampire, angst, reversed harem, best friends to lovers.

🩸My Master List🩸

Intro;

I knew something was wrong in the small city I’ve been living ever since I was born here and after I graduated from high school I was sure it had nothing to do with the fact that the whole year this small hell of a city called Spring Villa always rained every day.

Every god damn day.

Not that i was complaining, one summer during a high school trip to California was enough for me to realize hot weather was not for me. One day to be more specific, it was my first time and everything seemed so more alive and colorful. But all come to an end since i had to spend the rest of the trip at the hospital with an IV inside my arm due to being exposed to the sun for too long, just one afternoon which was the same as everyone else did but i was the only one who almost died that day for burning on the sun and end up looking like a hot Cheeto. After that i even started to enjoy the cold humid air hitting my face every day when i left to work, the only thing it didn’t change was my hatred for the rain every morning. Getting wet before work was not very enjoyable, everyone could agree on that note.

But the beautiful weather of the city was not the most uncanny thing about it, it has been almost ten years since a serial killer was circling around the Spring Villa. I was only a teen when everything became known to everyone in the city that something wasn’t right, so many bodies were found around Spring Villa along the years people began to stay at home locked away from everything. Some left the city for once and never came back, those who stayed were people who had nowhere else to go, like me.

My father was terrified of the accidents involving the serial killer in town and he too left before anyone else, leaving me and my mother behind. I couldn’t blame him especially after my brother ended up becoming one of the victims, when the police officer called for my parents to identify the body it didn’t felt real to me. I was not allowed to go since at the time i was underage but, I didn’t even got a chance to say goodbye either. My parents didn’t do a funeral for him, it was all too much to bear so instead he was cremated and thrown on a river on the west side of Spring Villa his favorite place to hide with his friends. Ever since that happened my parents have not been the same, I knew that sooner or later this was bound to happen. When father left it was the last straw of sanity of my mother, she became an alcoholic and well… not good.

I’ve been working at the Spring Grill ever since I graduated high school, apart from so many people leaving the city many others came from cities around the town to get a bit of incloser about the serial killer of Spring Villa, he was never caught and that mystery seemed to amaze many tourists around town.

People from all over came to my stupid silly little city to make videos about the killer of my brother, at first I was so angry at them I wished they just didn’t came at all but, over the years it became dull and empty inside my heart. I had more to worry about then that and since I needed money to pay the rent I was more then happy so many tourist came to Spring Villa.

After all I meet my best friend like that.

Notes: Hello readers! Here’s a new story for all of you I truly hope you guys enjoy this work as much as you all been enjoying my old works. This story has been going around my mind a lot and I thought what better time to write then now? So here it is! Taglist is open so leave your request in the comments and I’ll add you! Love all of you, Author. 🩵

[frostara]

Challenges

Cregan Stark x Karstark!Female

Synopsis: It takes some time to get to know each other, and lots of words to understand.

Wordcount: 2k

Tags: characters miscommunicate at first, but overall fluff, Cregan is 17, Astrid is 15

Notes: Hi! This could be read as chapter 2 for this work, but does pretty well on its own. All thanks to one person who asked for a second part - I hope you'll like it </3 I wanted to describe Cregan and Astrid the way they are - youthful people, with their own beliefs that are sometimes wrong (Astrid is so silly I love her) and quick to change temper. I worked on this drabble a little harder and hopefully, it was worth it!

Winterfell was like a living being—always alert and ready, yet calm and composed. It thrived with the quiet bustle of its people, the rustle of dry bushes, and cold of its stone walls. A guarded place, where the only thing Astrid had to worry about was herself. At least for now.

One moon have passed since she was wed to the Lord of the Winterfell, and yet, she felt rather wary of him. Cregan, whom she called so yet in her mind, was always surrounded by either maister-at-arms or castellan, which left her seeking his attention that he could not give.

Though, Astrid would be forever ungrateful if said that she was entirely alone. She had grown quite fond of maester Alvin, an old grey-haired man, but skilled and cunning like no one. He often inquired after her well-being with genuine courtesy and shared his wise thoughts, for which she was forever grateful.

Yet the companionship of one old master could not fill the void of loneliness. Her handmaidens, taught to serve their lady quietly, rarely spoke unless adressed directly. To make them speak freely was a challenge, but one she welcomed.

"My Lady, Lord Cregan sent me to let it be known that he awaits you in Godswood, and I am to accompany You on Your way," said Ethel as she entered chambers after a gentle knock. She was a pretty girl, not much older than Astrid, and probably the one she was fond of.

"Right. Well then, let us not keep the Lord waiting," - Astrid replied, standing perhaps more quickly than intended, letting Ethel drape a warm cloak over her frame to shield her from wind in this chilly weather.

As they made their way, her nervousness spilled in questions she bothered Ethel with: "Was Lord in a good mood? Did he seem upset with anything? Was he alone?" She could swear on all Old Gods that Ethel was laughing at her, but skillfully maintained her composure. Though, Astrid was too nervous to pay attention to that, pressing on. Luckily, the walk was short, and soon they were able to see the red leaves that framed the massive tree. Ethel bowed and turned her back, leaving Astrid to herself.

She took a moment to steady herself before stepping closer to where Cregan stood. She felt cold seep through her body, making her shiver. Heart tree was there, proudly emracing everything with its branches as if hiding from the sky. He looked like a real Stark, in a place he was always supposed to be. And Astrid was just a huble guest, even if being his wife. Light wind was playing with his dark hair, moving leaves casting shadows on his stern face.

"My Lord wished to see me?"

He turned to face her, his black eyes softening slightly as a polite smile tugged at his lips. "I did. I wish to know how my Lady fares."

Cregan walked towards her, and it was only then that she noticed a crimson leaf he was holding in his hand. She returned his smile, though uncertain of what to say. He seemed to be unbothered by silence that layed between them, as he studied her appearance. During their wedding he barely payed attention to her. Perhaps, that was why he was observing her so carefully now.

"I am very happy to be here," - Astrid nodded to her words, as if to make sure he believed her. "Winterfell does not cease to amaze me."

Cregan hummed to himself, not really putting his mind to her words. He seemed lost in thoughts, and these thoughts were far away from here. Far from her. She felt subtle sting in her when she thought of it. Why did he call her, if he still did not care about her being?

He was still holding the leaf in his callused hands, twirling it with his fingers when he brought it to her, putting it in her braided hair.

"Red suits you well. Has anyone told you that before?"

He murmured, seeming to be pleased with his work, running his fingers along her braid, his lingering touch leaving Astrid speechless. Her eyes widened as she tried to hide her confusion. He was gentle, almost reverent, and it warmed her heart in a way she never felt before. Was this the first time he truly saw her as a wife?

"No, my Lord. I believe you are the first to notice."

Cregan took his hand away from her hair, offering his elbow for her to grab. "Very well. Let us walk, I would not wish for you to get cold while standing here," - as he put his hand on his sword.

Astrid hesitated a moment before wrapping her fingers around his clothed arm, feeling the soft fur and fabric of his cloack, contrasting with his cold and rough to touch sword, accepting the offer. It pleased her more than she cared to admit to spend time with him in the godswood, a sacred place. Though it was still a mystery to her, what made him be so attentive to her today?

It was very quiet there, only rare birds chirping and leaves rustle could be heard. Astrid took a deep breath, enjoying frosty and fresh air that smelled of wood and earth. She found this moment very peaceful, this walk was a sweet gesture and it was not nice of her to doubt her husbands kindness.

"I have been thinking about our marriage," Cregan began after a while. "It seems to me that I have not fulfilled my duties to you. For this, I ask your understanding, and, perhaps, your forgiveness."

Cregan turned his gaze to her, awaiting what she has to say. She was now taken aback by his words. A suspicious thought was starting to form in her head - his previous behaviour could not be judged, it fitted his position. But these gentle words now were not sounding like the ones he would actually say. An odd feeling took place in her, yet, she could only listen to him right now.

"It is no secret to me how tiring your position may be," she started carefully. "And I could never hold it against you."

She studied his face, searching for any sign of anger or discomfort. Yet a gnawing curiosity urged her to push further. Astrid evased any other words from him, now being curious to get an answer for her thoughts:

"My Lord, if I may ask, did someone suggest that you speak to me like that?" - she stopped, making her husband follow her action, now facing each other. He was confused, and he could not hide that, making it obvious he was not prepared for such confrontation. Astrid believed there was also a hint of irritation in his expression.

"In what way are you implying this?" he asked, his tone guarded but lacking the harshness she feared.

Cregan even forgot to adress her properly. It made Astrid smile ever so slightly, now making her scared that she could offend him with her words.

"Do not misunderstand me, my Lord, but your actions are...rather opposing your character, which makes me suggest that you might have sought an advice about our relationship from someone."

She tried her best to sound friendly and not too arrogant, but confused look on his face eased her worries - he probably could not be angry with her now, that he looked so amusing. Astrid awaited patiently, when he finally spoke up.

"First of all, do not jest with me in such a way," he replied, his voice firm but lacking true anger. "I may be your husband, but my behavior is none of yours to question."

He glanced away, looking in direction of a bird that landed on a low-hanging branch nearby. The pause gave Astrid a moment to collect herself, and she only smiled at her thoughts, now being more confident to continue.

"Forgive me," her tone sincere. "I only wanted to make sure I understood the situation well." She reached out, lightly tugging on his sleeve to draw his attention back to her. The gesture startled him, and instinctively, he caught her hand in his. For a moment, they stood frozen, her smaller hand caught in his. He did not let go, and his grip, though firm, was not harsh.

Wind sent another gust as couple of bright red leaves fell from tree, falling at their legs. Laying onthe ground, they could be mistaken for small pools of blood. It sent a shiver down Astrid's spine, the movement was visible for Cregan. It made him snap from frozen state as he let her hand hung in the air, bringing his own to his sword, slight embarrasment from an intimate moment made him cough, as if to shift their attention away.

But Astrid still was confused. Was she right then? Perhaps, her behaviour made it impossible for her Lord to seek her company? She felt nervousness fill her heart once again, making her clasp her hands together on stomach, as if trying to calm herself down.

"Maester Alvin is someone you could consider guilty," Cregan's voice cut through silence, breaking the formed pause.

"Though, I believe, his intentions were kind."

"Should I be grateful for it then?" she bit on her inner cheeck, fidgeting with cold fingers. Astrid felt emarrased: she probably looked so stupid right now; her concern made her act very rude, or atleast, that is what she believed.

"You could at least try to not to be mad at me."

He rubbed the back of his neck, as if looking for the right words. The situation they currently trapped themselves in was quite awkward. Astrid hummed softly at his words in an attemp to answer, but words would get stuck in her throat.

"I am not mad, my Lord" - it was all she could mutter, before quickly facing him away. She was definetly not acting like a modest lady right now. But who was to blame for that?

"Cregan."

Astrid blinked, turning her head back at her husband.

"Call me by my name. You are my wife, you have such right." He shrugged, an unsure smile tugging at his lips.

This time, he held out his hand to her.

"I believe we will have many days to continue this argument, if you wish that," she took his hand, now holding it gently, but with a firm grip, returning his favour as she unconsciously smiled herself.

"But we had spent more than we should have time here. Let us head back to castle, before anyone starts looking for us."

Their way back was more pleasant, as the silence that followed them was now a welcomed one, sometimes interrupted with quiet laughter.

[cheeseceli]

Shut me up

Pairing: Choi Soobin × Gn!reader

Genre: fic, fluff, friends to lovers, (1.1k)

Prompt: "I know I talk too much, so honey come put your lips on mine and shut me up"

Warnings: the rest of txt make a slight cameo, soobin is a loser (affectionate)

A/n: thank you for requesting this with him because I was hoping someone would😭 enjoy! | Join the 1k event

Yours and soobin's first kiss was... Kind of a hopeless mess.

It all started with a date you didn't even know was a date. Following his friend's advice, he invited you out. Just keep it casual, they will love it. That's what Yeonjun said.

Soobin wishes he could punch Yeonjun right now.

That's simply because you were both sitting side by side on a bench in the park, and you've just asked when the others were coming along.

"Probably soon, I think they might be stuck in traffic."

You nodded, thinking it probably made sense. But it actually didn't. Because no one was coming. Maybe keeping it so casual was a mistake, considering you thought it was so casual that it would be just a normal outing among friends. Not a date. Not that Soobin was stressing over it, of course not.

He just casually wants to punch Yeonjun.

But he also should kick Taehyun since it was his idea to come to a park this weekend. Saturdays are always great for dates, there's no better day than this one. Taehyun was a very smart guy and, since he told Soobin that the place and weather would be perfect, he was most likely right as always.

Except it started to rain.

You and your clothes, that made you look more ethereal than you already were, were getting wet. And so was your date friend. When you got up from the bench, Soobin swore he heard his heart get broken thinking about how you were going to bid your farewell. Happily, you just said "Let's go to some cafe, we can wait for them there".

You were way smarter than Taehyun, that's a fact.

Buy them something to drink. Now that was Hueningkai's advice. Soobin thought to himself for a second before complying; that one couldn't go wrong. He had the money - he made sure to avoid his wallet around the guys. He also knew your favourite drink by heart and the place was very nice. Okay, that one really couldn't go wrong.

"Go find us somewhere to sit, I'll have something for us to drink" he told you smiling, hoping to look confident and cool.

You smiled back at him. Oh my God that must've worked right?? Soobin was about to kiss kai for giving him the only right advice until now.

In his opinion, everything was going on pretty smoothly. They had your order there, it smelled good and it looked nice. For a second, Soobin thought he could really impress you, even if it's with a silly thing like that.

That is, until this random guy dropped his coffee in his shirt. Yeah, that really sucked.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" the person said. The coffee was kinda hot but not enough to hurt him, but sadly it was enough to ruin his shirt. Of course he had to wear a white shirt that day.

"It's okay, don't worry" The stranger even paid soobin's and yours coffee as an apology but he doesn't know if that made him feel better or worse about the whole situation. Sorry Kai, I couldn't pay for the drinks.

But once he sat down next to you, your eyes turned confused at the exact moment, and you didn't hesitate on taking some napkins to try and help soobin's shirt. A win is a win, he thinks when he feels your hands trying to dry his sleeve. His skin was getting hotter and redder. He hopes you assumed it was the hot coffee.

Don't forget to compliment them, Beomgyu said. Usually Soobin wouldn't hesitate on ignoring any possible advice his friend could give, but this one felt like the sanest thing he had said in a while. Maybe it was worth the risk.

He started to look at you, still focused on trying to clean his shirt. There were just so many things he could compliment. He loved the way your eyes would squint when you were paying attention to something. He loved how your skin felt delicate when you were touching him. He could spend hours talking about how your hair framed your face perfectly or how your voice was adorable. He also really liked your lips, a lot. If he could, he would kiss you right on the spot.

"What?"

"What?"

You were looking at him confused, like you were solving the hardest of puzzles in your head. But Soobin doesn't understand. He didn't do anything, nor said something that could make you have his reaction. He just...

His hand flew to his mouth, covering it and only showing his wide eyes in total horror. No way he said that. He couldn't have said that.

"Did you just say that..." you tried to formulate it without sounding weird, not that the situation itself wasn't already bad enough "that you wanted to kiss me?"

He laughed. Little giggles started to get past his lips, but it was extremely clear that it was a laugh filled with panic. How can someone screw things up so badly?

"No, no. I mean yeah I did but no! I shouldn't have said that, it was a mistake. Not that I didn't mean it, because I did, but in a sense that I shouldn't have said it, you know?" he looked at you trying to find a string of hope, any sign that he was on his way of fixing things, but damn he was so lost. "Like, I won't actually kiss you! I wanted to but then, no hold on. I wouldn't do it like this, in something like... You understand what I mean right?"

He doesn't know for how long he kept on speaking any random excuse he could think of. At some point, his panicked laugh got mixed with words and the only thing he could say were unintelligible sounds. You could almost see a little smoke getting out of his brain. He only came to a stop when you kissed the corner of his mouth, shutting him up immediately.

Did you just... kiss him?

You giggled lightly, probably at how awestruck he was right now. It wasn't even a kiss on his lips - unfortunately - but he felt like he could die a happy man at that moment.

"I can't believe I'll have to thank the boys for that."

"Weren't they tagging along?"

Oh.

"Now that's kind of a funny story..." You could see he was collecting his breath to start yapping again, but he stopped right when he saw you smile. Apparently, both your kiss and smile had the ability to stop his brain.

Suddenly he started to talk again, not knowing exactly what he was ranting about this time. His words probably weren't even coherent, but maybe you'd kiss him to shut him up once more.

Maybe this one kiss would land on his lips instead.

Masterlist | you'll probably like: So Sweet

Thank you for reading 💛

Taglist (open!): @zzzzzwicked @yuyubeans

Credits for images 1 , 2 and 3

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto

[blucactus112]

May never come to reality but im planning out a Animatic to AJR's 'Maybe Man' (sue me) and need some help filling in some of the parts.

(Its probably going to be about all the life series in general not specifically Wild life. but feel free to try it fit it all in one series)

!!!long post incoming!!!

General plan so far:

First Half(ish) will be calmly looking at hermits in their peaceful habitats talking about their insecurities.

Finishing the first half when we get to the god part it will be Grian before life series started pleading to watchers and becoming one himself then cutting to him and all the other lifers standing around in a circle (like the start of each series) (much wow)

ONE. TWO. PANDEMONIUM.

murder, just all of the scenes of people dying biggest polt twist, betrayals, and Amount of kills.

Also specifically a close up of grain seeing the server burning in the reflection of his eyes.

ending with another shot of the beginning of a server but we see grains eyes which are weathered and worn out and maybe has some watcher purple

Specific Lines:

Wish I was a stone, so I couldn't feel You'd yell in my face, it'd be no big deal But I'd miss the way we make up and smile Don't want to be stone, I changed my mind

Im thinking scar and Grian Desert Duo? also could be

I wish I had eyes in the back of my head Then I could see the places I've been But then I would know that you're talkin' shit I don't wanna know what my friends think

This im Deff thinking cleo bigb scott and lizzie from the Boogeyman series (i forgor wich one that is)

but open to other ideas

Wish I were my dog out on the lawn I'd be so glad when I hear you come home But if I were my dog, I wouldn't live long I'm sure gonna miss her when she's gone

This is pearl playing with a dog, you cannot fucking make me change my mind

I wish I could act in a show on TV 'Cause then I could practice not bein' me I'll practice my cry, put it into my reel But you won't believe me when I cry for real

im either thinking like Ren or Martyn because of the acting thing or one of the scenes usually portrayed as lots of crying (ie Scott at the end of double life)

I wish that my brain would triple in size I'd nail every joke, I'd win every fight But I'd get too deep with that kind of mind I don't wanna know the point of life

ive been thinking of this as jimmy in general but also i dont want to be mean so other ideas would be great

In some other life I would be rich I'd travel in style, I'd cover the bill But couldn't complain 'bout anything small Nobody'd feel bad for me at all

havent given much thought for ones after this but im thinking Scar on Magic mountain trying to scam everyone?

If I was cocaine or a bottle of Jack I'd get invited to every frat But when you get old and your good days have passed You'll only want me when you're sad

have there been any people that bounce between alliances during one series?

Wish I was a song, your favorite one You'd follow the dance to me at your prom I would be there when your baby is born For two or three minutes, then I'm gone

there was at least one dande floor that was a trap, right??

I wish I was big, as big as my house I'd sleep on the trees, I'd skip every crowd But I wouldn't fit on my therapist's couch God, I could really use him now

probably ep1 of WildLife

I wish I was God, I'd never trip up And if I did, well, so fuckin' what? I could be cruel and break all your stuff Yeah, I'd be loved no matter what

pov grain angst

grain is on super windy mountain top surrounded by watchers crying, pleading to them

But if I was God, it'd get kinda weird 'Cause you would only say what I wanna hear And then you would die, you'd love me to death I never know who the hell I am

grian is surrounded by purple light wings and eyes becoming at least in part, a watcher

I wish I was me, whoever that is I could just be and not give a shit Hey, I'll be whatever makes you a fan 'Cause I don't know who the hell I am

cut to peaceful tranquil plains, all of them jn a circle at beginning of life series laughing joking shaking hands hugging (set em up for emotional damage)

One, two, pandemonium

black, black, PAN DE MONIUM

cut to destruction of server only using reds browns and blacks showing carnage this series has brought (and yes ofc player has died messages will appear in the corner as if in chat)

One, two, pandemonium

im thinking each line will be each of the series in chronological order

Here I go again

One, two, pandemonium

Here I go again

One, two, pandemonium

One, two-

Here I go again

cut to beginning of ?wild life? they all have scars when their final kills have been, some look tired some look determined

if you end up making this animatic if you want to put me in the credits as like 'inspired by' :3 but honestly idc that much. but you HAVE to tell me if you post one bc i will watch the hell out of that

#god i need more tags

[piratefishmama]

I Wish | Part 3

He barely recognised his friends. He was just glad they were themselves though. That somewhere along the way to a stardom he didn’t remember going through, his band hadn’t lost anyone. That someone hadn’t been replaced.

That happened a lot, didn’t it? Bands losing members due to circumstance, arguments over direction, infighting... but they were there. Older, Gareth had a little grey in his hair, Jeff had shaved his down completely, he didn’t have braces anymore, taller too, neither as weathered as Eddie but… definitely older, and Dougie...

Fuck, he'd slimmed down.

Eddie didn’t know if that was an improvement or not, he instantly found himself missing what had once been, he was still big, still broad, but... where disarming chub that Eddie had on more than one occasion fallen asleep on had been, soft muscle resided in its place and Eddie found himself wondering just how the biggest of four of them had done it. Whether it'd been through healthy choices or godawful ones like himself.

It was muscle though, it looked like healthy muscle, so... probably healthier than him. Good for him.

“Oh look who's joined us in the land of the living!” Gareth chirped, his mouth half full of pancake, syrup dripping down his lips.

Jeff, to his left “Saw Louie stormin out kicking up a storm, that shit for good this time?” Asked with a tone laced in caution, as if the subject was touchy. God what had Eddie done in the past that made his friends think they couldn’t rib him about relationships?

That was like... their whole thing back in high school, Eddie, and his disastrous non-existent dating life. He’d trusted them and them alone with who he was, with what he liked, and while there were the obvious ‘do you find me hot?’ questions at first, the playful ribbing, the teasing, the jokes only friends could share… he had them. They weren’t afraid of him. Afraid to hurt him because they knew they never could.

How had he lost that?

Eddie looked to Steve in a bid for help, Steve wasted no time in coming to his aid “One can only hope” with obvious exhaustion in his retort, his hands on his hips, a deadpan expression that Eddie couldn’t stop himself from smiling at.

Gareth snorted a little laugh and followed with “Amen to that, dude.”

“He’ll be back though, he always is.” Dougie piped up around his own bite full of some oat concoction, it looked gross. “Once he sees his job offers dry u—what?” The other two were giving it the kill signal, twin expressions of panic, as if he’d said too much… god who was he? “You fuckers know I’m right, Eddie knows I’m right, he’s a clout chasing pretty boy riding Eddie’s coattails to fame, just cause you’re too chicken shit to say anything to him doesn’t mean I am.”

Eddie looked to Steve again as Dougie spoke, only to receive a silently raised brow in return, he was on his own. “Well—” Eddie began, the other three froze, even Dougie’s attention was on him now, all three clearly expecting something “not anymore! Dunno what I saw in him, but I’m done, Steve, if you would… uhm… make sure he can’t contact me again?”

“Want me to block his number?”

“What?” Eddie whispered behind his hand, brows furrowed in confusion, block? A number? What?

“I’ll sort it.” Steve would sort it, and of that Eddie had zero doubts. He wouldn’t doubt the genie about anything ever again. Louie and his overly manicured entire self would never darken his doorstep again, of that he was certain.

“Holy shit, who are you and where did Eddie go?” The panic gone, Gareth seemed genuinely surprised by his declaration. He'd missed too much, too many things he didn’t know, too many things he’d done that he couldn’t apologise for because he didn’t know what he'd be apologising for. it'd be cheap, it'd be pointless.

Eddie hated everything. He could have probably lived with it, with his lost time, had this not been his first experience of the day with people he recognised. He couldn’t. Not like this. Not with his friends looking at him like he were a bomb ready to go off.

He could put on a brave face though, even if the muscles in his face felt foreign, even if he felt tired... he could act the part. “Turnin over a new leaf I guess... self reflection, new path, bachelor life never hurt me too bad, right?” His friends shared looks, a silent communication happening between them that made Eddie feel isolated, othered, outside, and alone.

He wanted out. To run.

And as if he knew, Steve’s hand found his shoulder and squeezed grounding him in place. He was there, the Genie was there, he'd fix it if Eddie wished him to. He wasn’t stuck, Steve just wanted him to live the day. Experience it. Be brave, it wasn’t permanent.

Jeff broke the silence though, he stood up, crossed the distance between them, that gigantic chasm that seemed so impossible to cross seconds before, and clapped his hands to both of Eddie's biceps, his straight toothed smile blinding “nice to have you back then, Eds, now eat your fuckin breakfast an let’s get this stupid talk show shit over with, yeah?” Okay... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

Fuck the ‘old' Eddie, the Eddie who Eddie himself had never met and never wanted to meet, he had his friends, he'd be fine. Maybe he could even stay.

“Sounds good, what's for breakfast?”

“For you? Nothin but the good stuff, man, ordered you some wholemeal toast with avocado an egg whites” so many words, so little recognition in his eyes.

What the fuck was an avocado? Was that a real thing?

“...Can I not have pancakes like Gareth?” Gareth with his syrupy monstrosity.  

Dougie scoffed around his oatmeal, swallowing before he responded because at some point during the last thirty years he’d developed manners. “With your cholesterol? Fuck off, dude, we don’t want you having a heart attack on stage.” Steve only offered him a sympathetic smile in consolation. The beautiful bastard. “It's avocado toast or oatmeal, your choice old man.”

Strike being able to stay. He wanted to go home.

Eddie didn’t like Avocados.

He decided this the moment a semi-hard glob of green mush touched his tongue, lightly seasoned, mixed with something tangy, he hated it, hated the smell, hated the unexpected texture, hated the taste but he ate it. He pushed through like a little champ when every instinct he had told him to rebel against it, to demand French fries or something stupid that definitely didn’t come as a breakfast food.

Maybe he could swing fast food later, see what the future held for the fast food joints.

Later seemed too busy though, the moment they were done with breakfast, the band were whisked away into some kind of car, something way fancier than Eddie had ever seen, to get to the venue and prepare. Hair, makeup, the usual routine that Eddie wished he had an ounce of experience with because back at the Hideout it was just… them climbing up on the rickety old stage Bev’s late husband put together on the fly and letting loose.

There was no pre-gig warming up, no hoard of professionals tugging them into various chairs and rooms to make sure their hair was the correct brand of artful frizz, or mess of floof, or women with brushes coated in powders to minimize the shine from the studio lights that’d make their skin too shiny for the cameras to work with.

Wardrobe was fool proof as they were presented with options that ranged from smart casual to red carpet. Everything suitable for a talk show and nothing fit for a ‘metal’ band, which was strange considering they were advised to go for something they could move in as they were going to be performing during their run through, maybe more than once to make sure all angles were covered.

It was a lot, it was a hell of a lot, Eddie kept finding Steve in his peripherals though. Always there, silent, and observant off to the side, close enough to step in should anyone cross any boundaries but staying out of the way of the professionals so they could work unhindered.

It was grounding in a way, him there, even if he looked so very human despite what he knew Steve to really look like, having him there, knowing the man could get him out of the chaos at any time was grounding.

All those people touching him, all the noise around him, sounds, smells, lights, the pushing, and pulling, and the tugging on his hair, he wanted to scream, he wanted to get away from it all, he wanted—

“Alright, five minute break.” Steve stepped in, his voice firm, without room for argument. “Rockstar needs a breather.” Eddie could have kissed him, genuinely. The relief as all those professionals took a few steps back was instantaneous, that feeling only growing when Steve managed to corral them out of the room entirely, leaving just them in there.

The other band members were in their own rooms, Eddie clearly some ‘big shot’ that he didn’t quite get. Sure he was the front man but… they always said they’d be equals if they made it big. They’d always scoffed at the idea of multiple green rooms, of putting single members on pedestals, that was how shit went sideways, that was how infighting and breaking apart happened. They’d stay grounded, stay real.

They didn’t want that bullshit and yet there he was. All on his own, his friends elsewhere being prepped without him. He hated it. How had it happened? “I should be used to this, shouldn’t I?”

“What makes you think that?” Eddie damn near jumped out of his skin when Steve was just. Right there. Stood beside him in the reflection of the mirror. No longer looking all that human, he looked like himself, golden and beautiful, wearing the clothes he first saw him in.

When he turned around, the human looked back at him, smiling as if he knew what Eddie was looking for. Reflections showed the truth then. Interesting.

“I’m—fuck that's a cool trick, man... but i'm a fuckin rockstar! I should be, I dunno… used to it.” At the very least his old man brain should have caught up by now, right? He should have gotten used to it all, muscle memory of thirty years having passed should have at least kicked in a little, right?

He still felt like that kid from the trailer park on the inside, still felt completely overwhelmed.

He’d just been dropped into a life with no memory of living it.

“Who said you ever got used to it?” Steve hadn’t said that. In fact Steve had painted a pretty sad story of addiction and self-destruction. “Eddie… some people aren’t meant for this kind of life, yes, you’re very talented, you’re absolutely good enough to get this far, and once you’re on stage you are incredible—” for a moment, just a moment, Eddie felt warmth, a teeny sprinkle of warm pleasure trickle through his weary soul at the easily spoken praise. “The weariness fades away and you’re… yourself, everything that you are shines through and it’s breathtaking.” Eddie really did try not to blush, but he felt the heat in his cheeks anyway, as it turned out, older men could definitely be flustered by a cute guy thoughtlessly praising them “but the rest of it… everything that goes along with it… not that I’m an expert or anything, but I don’t believe it’s who you are.”

“I can’t just adapt?” All Steve offered was that similar look of sympathy he’d had in the bathroom back at the hotel. No… no Eddie knew the answer before he’d even asked it. He’d never been able to adapt. “Why?”

“If it helps at all, there’s millions of people out there who feel seen whenever you talk about your struggles with what happens behind the glamour, so many people who love you and support you for the very things that make you struggle so much, for the fact that you keep going, you made it despite them. I’m not going into the why’s and the how’s, but adapting really isn’t something you’re very good at, Eddie, there’s no changing that. You get overwhelmed, that’s just you.”

“Can I wish to change it?” Did he even want to? Not really, something told him it’d backfire somehow, not by Steve’s design, not on purpose, but… it just would.

“You can… I can work my magic, but you wouldn’t be you. You wouldn’t be the person your friends love, the louder than life DnD loving nerd, you wouldn’t be that anymore, and I like that person, he’s very sweet, so I really don’t want to.” There it was. At least Steve wasn’t just letting him make that mistake. “There’s a life out there that is perfect for you, and trust me you will find it, this just isn’t it. Do you want to go home?” Steve wasn’t going to force him to stay, he wanted Eddie to experience it for this very reason, to see the truth behind one of his biggest dreams, see the chaos behind the curtain of a life that maybe he just wasn’t suited to.

He could go home if he wanted to, but… “No. Not yet. I wanna experience it, just once, y’know? Even if it’s gonna suck, I think you were right, I think I need to.” If only to really drive it home that maybe fame and fortune wasn’t everything.

That maybe he didn’t have to be famous, maybe he didn’t have to be some metal legend, he could just… be. And that would be okay.

“Got it.”

“Will I at least know the song we’re meant to be performing here?” Given how little he knew about his present self, the very real possibility of his music having evolved, of new songs being written, it was an issue he really should have thought about by now, but Steve snapped his fingers, an otherwordly light flashing in his hazel eyes for the briefest of moments, and then he smiled.

“You will now.” And that made him feel a little better. Just a little. Until the chaos continued and the professionals filed back in to finish their jobs, the five minutes up.

Part 5

[theredofoctober]

MANNA- CHAPTER NINETEEN: DUCK

Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham AU fic

TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse, Daddy kink, cannibalism mentions, murder mentions

Read after the cut

---

“Family,” says Hannibal. “Let’s return to that subject today.”

You occupy the living room, each in a velvet armchair tilted with intent to replicate the layout of his office, the clever dressing of a theatre set. Attempts to put off this particular session had proved inefficacious, the coercion of your attendance rendering you curt and snappish in demeanor.

Truthfully you’ve been so since this morning, having rolled, coughing and vaguely feverish, from dreams of bodies hung rattling like so many clothes hangers in some subterrestrial den.

Hannibal, as expected, had still seen fit to persist with his agenda, weathering your complaints with a brisk good humour.

Will had made himself scarce sometime before you’d awoken, and has left word that you’re not to expect his return for many days. You yearn for him in all his brittle ferocity, a gabion against his friend’s subtle erosion of your mind as you know it. The early hour, the assault of unwanted conversation: such sly methods of torture will damn you to madness as quick as the murkiest secret.

“I’ve told you about my family,” you say to Hannibal, fingering a loose tuft of angora on your sweater. ���Besides, you won’t even let me talk to them.”

“I don’t think that it would be to your benefit for me to do so,” he answers, and makes a gracious pretence of examining his pen.

Had you not extended a hand to Amy there would indeed have been a second call, this you’re clearly meant to understand. Hannibal is not above such trivial warfare, as he makes a continuing point to prove; you might be entertained by so comic a flaw were you not in such dire opposition.

“Maybe it’d be good for me to talk to my family,” you say, smartly. “And how can you know that it wouldn’t be when you barely know anything about them?”

Hannibal smirks, pleased to have cast such irresistible bait.

“Enlighten me, then. Begin with your mother, if you like. A predictable start, but in that simplicity rather less challenging than other avenues.”

You glance about the room as though seeking inspiration from it and find it wanting. Only the window at which the dying autumn presses its face wets the brush of conversation again, that symbol of fleeing dark brick to beyond a reminder that you must play on.

“We fight a lot,” you say. “My mom and me. She always has to be right about everything all the time. Never made a mistake in her life. Never apologises for anything. And if you criticise her— well, just don’t. Plus, she used to hit me when I was little. Nothing crazy, but still. She hit me.

“Then one day I slapped her right back and she never did it again.”

Pausing, you tug the hem of your sweater to your knees, an instinct to cover skin that today is not an inch bare.

“It’s funny,” you say. “She acts like she doesn’t remember any of it now.”

“Those in denial of their misdeeds often excise those shameful moments from the past,” says Hannibal. “It may not even be a conscious decision on her part.”

“It’d almost be better if it was. Then maybe she could own up to it, some day.”

Hannibal’s pen mars a fresh page in his notebook; even were it not upside down you suspect you’d fail to untangle his complicated hand.

“Has your mother’s behaviour caused friction surrounding your anorexia?” he asks.

“God, yeah,” you say, half laughing. “She used to yell at me. Tried to bully me into eating. Now she cries a lot and kind of makes it all about her. She loves me, but not in the ways you want in a mother. She pays for stuff. Drives me to places. Ticks all those boxes, you know? But she’s never been kind or comforting, really.

“It’s not all her fault. I guess she just doesn’t know how.”

A leaf falls against a windowpane like the hand of a dead, withered child, and you find yourself drawing back in your seat, wishing you’d the strength to push the chair against the wall.

“Why do you think your mother is unable to fulfil her role as you would like?” asks Hannibal.

“I guess my grandparents treated her the same way she treats me. They were always kind of cold with me when I knew them.”

“Generational cruelty is an infection one must wittingly sterilise. A pity so few are self-aware enough to administer that treatment. Was your father sufficiently conscious?”

Odd, this invocation of the paternal when Hannibal and Will have worked so diligently to embody it in place of your genetic relative.

Now, in a shirt the colour of thatch rolled pristinely back from the jewel of his wristwatch, the doctor could well be the wealthy father of a girl your age, the type to pour upon you his thousands, to walk you down the aisle in a venue of his choosing to marry an approved match of your class.

But you will never wed now that Hannibal has claimed you. He speaks of your family from a wreckage of his making, at ease with his distance from it.

“I love my dad the most,” you say. “But he’s a weird guy. Quiet. Never opens up about his feelings. He’ll talk about movies, or the news, but real stuff? Nope. So I've never felt all that comfortable around him. I mean, with good reason after... after everything.”

“More than good,” says Hannibal, firmly. “That you aren’t angrier with both parents for their abandonment in your time of need surprises me.”

“I don’t really blame them. Uncle Lee has this way about him. He can make people believe pretty much anything he says.”

Inevitable that you should mention Leland, who—though of other blood—is still an incestuous growth on the vine.

“What is this way of his?” asks Hannibal. “You’ve previously spoken of a power to sash the eyes of loved ones against what you perceive to be an obvious darkness. How does that ability present in him?”

You bring your legs up onto the chair, crossing them under you for comfort.

“He moved from Louisiana in his twenties,” you say, “so he still has the accent and everything. He even speaks French sometimes. Then there’s this way of holding himself he has. Kind of cocky, but funny, though. From the second he moved in on our street my parents just loved him, apparently. They never saw what I saw.”

“He’d donned the rubber mask.”

You look up at Hannibal almost shyly.

“Yeah. You remember.”

“Yes. And did you love him, in spite of what seemed to you an obvious guise?”

“I did. In some sick way I still do. So I get why my Mom and Dad believed him over me, but sometimes I think maybe part of them knows the truth, but they just shove it down deep like something dead.”

Scrubbing your face angrily with the sleeve of your sweater you snub, without noticing it, the omnipresent box of tissues on the nearby table top. Hannibal makes no remark on your unclean habit, only pours you a cup of green tea which you accept for the sake of avoiding an argument.

“To truly love someone you mustn’t bury their evils,” says Hannibal. “You must find acceptance of them in whatever form you can. Your parents do not care for this friend so much as fear the upheaval of the known. A suburban life, a sullied idyll— by sending you to me they are attempting to reverse its disunion from their image of it in memory.”

“They’re selfish,” you say. “I know. What’s new there?”

You look at the bottom of your teacup, hunting an impossible pattern in the pale ceramic.

“I don’t want to talk about my family anymore. What about yours? You had a sister, didn’t you?”

Hannibal’s eyes change like the blackening of dusk.

“Will told you this,” he says.

“Does it matter?” you ask, shrilly. “I want to know who you are, Daddy, and this is where I want to start. What happened to Mischa? What did she die of?”

It’s frightening how the man before you alters in only light adjustments: the quiet crossing of a limb, the rhomboid slant of shoulders under his jacket, each a signifier of the restless potentiality for truculence in him.

His face is not so beautiful in moments such as this. The flaws in it stand out to you: flesh racked over halberds of bone, something amphibious in the mouth, of some alien taxon. A killer’s physiognomy, little though you care for such sciences as would define it so.

“My sister was murdered when she was a little girl,” says Hannibal. “I interrupted the culprit in the midst of defiling her body, but it was too late. She was lost to me.”

The moon opal of a tear tips loose of an eyelash, its passage a kinetic artistry. What you’d taken for anger is another emotion: a raw and ancient loss.

“Oh my god,” you say. “That’s awful. Do you know who killed her?”

“A man who remains imprisoned to this day,” says Hannibal. “That is his penance for taking Mischa from me.”

You are in too great a terror and disgust of this man to embrace him, as would feel apt for a moment such as this.

“I’m sorry,” you say, weakly.

Hannibal closes the notebook in his lap and asks, almost blandly, “Are you?”

His bald disbelief flusters you.

“Yes. Of course. She was just a little girl. In fact, I feel like I get it, now. All of this. Me and you. It makes sense why you want me. Why you are what you are. It’s because of her.”

Forcing a smile, you reach over and touch a hand to Hannibal’s cheek.

He turns his face gently away from the caress.

“You’re mistaken, Little One. Whereas you were moulded by your circumstances, I was liberated by mine.”

You stare at him, endeavouring to bone his words for their meaning.

“What are you saying?”

“My philosophies and desires pre-existed Mischa’s death. My love for her restrained me, for while she lived I was never free to act as I yearned to in fear that she would be harmed. In some ways I resented that restraint, but in passing Mischa offered me the opportunity to forgive her.”

A cloud snuffs out the sun, and you sit in the dark of it, aghast.

“Forgive her for what?” you ask, in a near whisper. “Helping you? Hannibal, I—”

“We are still at an impasse, I see,” he says, coolly. “We must rectify this. Would you like to know how she received her absolution?”

You shake your head.

“But you must,” says Hannibal. “You’re a curious girl. Mischa’s remains now lie in a grave in my home country. Before I buried them there, I ate part of her. That is how I reconciled my feelings for my sister with what I am.”

Shock throttles your body in its tremor, and the empty teacup drops from your hand, prevented from breaking only by the carpet underfoot. You had, with all the delicate senses of a medium, deciphered the presage of his appetite, and still you feel the plates of the earth shudder with the magnitude of his confession.

Hannibal gets up from his seat, places the cup back into its saucer, and takes your hand in his.

“Let’s end the session there,” he says. “I’d like to involve you in preparing today’s meal, since that’s a new interest of yours.”

With a fear-stricken servility you walk with him to the kitchen, expecting him to have something—someone—preserved in the glossy coffin of the refrigerator.

Instead Hannibal kneels to unlatch an ingenious door in the floorboards, revealing a neat little staircase which runs down into a basement room. From it emanates a rolling field of cold, biting at you through your clothes.

You take a step back, near tumbling in your eagerness to escape it.

“What is that?”

“It’s an expansion of the freezer,” says Hannibal. “With all the dinner parties I host it’s natural that I found myself in need of more storage space. This is my answer to that problem. I’d like you to go down and choose a cut of meat for dinner.”

There’s no threat in the statement; he speaks, in fact, quite casually, meaning to impress upon you the mundanity of his diet in his eyes. To make supper of his sister, to dine upon lamb: there is no separation for him, being that all of it is meat.

You squeeze your eyes shut, cannot face the oblong of shadow beyond the steps which you’ve dreamt of, unknowing,

“Please don’t make me go down there, Daddy.”

“There’s nothing to be frightened of. Open your eyes, Little One.”

“No. No. I don’t want to.”

You try to turn away, but Hannibal arrests you by the arms, holding you as a farmer would a wriggling hare.

“I’m not going to eat you,” he says. “If that’s what you think.”

“I know!” you wail. “But it doesn’t matter. If I go down there and... see, everything’ll change forever. Because I’ll know for sure, and I’ll be part of it. And I can’t be part of it. I’ll go crazy.”

You jerk passionately in Hannibal’s grip, but his greater strength prevails.

“Wait,” you say. “When you talked about Leland—bringing him to me—you meant that I should kill him to eat.”

“Yes,” says Hannibal, simply. “I did.”

There is a softness in his eyes you recognise as hope. He is a man desperate to create others like him, for all that he believes that they are born.

“But you said with Mischa that eating her was forgiveness,” you say. “But you don’t want me to forgive Uncle Lee. So what would it mean to eat him?”

“Look to why trophy hunters keep mementos of their sport. Some as markers of achievement and dominance over the animal, and others in a subconscious humiliation of the predator they’ve slain. Man gloats to bring a tiger to kneel; a girl, having conquered man, might do the same.”

Thinking of Hannibal’s recorded killings, some of them young women, you say, “Most animals don’t deserve humiliation.”

“That’s all a matter of perspective, my dear. A seasoned hunter develops rather a discerning eye for flaws in his quarry.”

Hannibal smooths a lock of hair behind your ear, his rancid touch queerly soothing.

“What did Savannah Belmont do to deserve humiliation?” you ask, sulkily. “She wasn’t a bad person. She was just a girl, like me.”

“A cursory reading of obituaries and odes to Miss Belmont’s life denote her brief career at a rare bookshop,” says Hannibal, “for which position her personal tastes suggest she was underqualified to take. It wouldn’t be so unrealistic to assume that she left customers unhappy with her inadequate ability to serve them.”

Horror breaks over you like the falling of a chandelier. This, too, you had foreseen: no serious cause to kill was ever required for Hannibal, and that you are fucked rather than murdered by him is but a flourish of fate.

Peering into your eyes, Hannibal comes to a rapid decision and bends to close the trapdoor again.

“Duck, tonight, then,” he says. “That will suffice.”

*

Through terror you cling to Hannibal long into the afternoon, lurking at his elbow, a thumb in your mouth, as he prepares for the day’s appointments.

If he is he here, with you, he cannot kill, you reason, not while he thinks only of the invitation of tear-salt on your lips, the liquor of your nether mouth around him. Again and again you’ll die upon his cock as tribute, for though cold in your disorder you are not so callous as to allow others to, if you can help it.

“I’ll be gone for just a few hours, sweet girl,” he says, pausing to rock you in his lap. “No more of this. I’ve left a new book for you in your room. Please begin reading it for me. And there is the recording of an opera I’d like you to watch. That should keep you occupied until I’m home to you.”

It’s only after he’s driven away in the hearse of his car that you succumb to the awfulness of all you've heard. As in those primordial days of captivity you grasp the bars of your window and scream into the burnished day, beating your fists upon the iron until they burst across the bone.

Only a volley of coughing halts you in this fit, sending you to your bed alarmed by the weakness come over you. You lie shivering for hours, wondering if this is the nervous exhaustion you’ve read about in novels that ends in heroines consigned to the madhouse, sunny climes, or else the grave, none of which you might expect to be released to.

When Hannibal returns he feels your forehead and listens to your coughs with a mildly furrowed brow.

“Hospital,” you croak, but he only laughs and strokes your head.

“There’s no need for that. You have a chest infection. Your immune system is very poor. Nevertheless, you’ll be well again soon.”

He perfumes your damp neck with a kiss and sits down in a chair beside you.

“Perhaps it’s for the best that Will is occupied with work,” he comments, at length. “I wouldn’t like his condition to worsen again.”

[lovings4turn]

★ sick, but never of you . . . (luke hughes)

— when you're feeling incredibly under the weather, your boyfriend is there to look after you the best he can (1.3k)

+ warnings for mentions of illness and feeling sick. yes this is incredibly self-indulgent but i'm currently ill so you have to let me off okay !!!! first time writing for luke so pls don't be too too harsh !! banner from benkeibear <3

luke knew it was bad the moment he woke to the sight of your shadowed outline sitting up in bed, your body hunched over as muffled sniffling broke the silence in the room.

you hadn't been feeling the greatest all day, plagued with an annoying cough and pounding headache, but you had insisted before you headed to bed that you were starting to feel a little better, even assuring him that a good night's sleep would cure everything.

unfortunately, it seemed that sheer wishful thinking alone wasn’t enough. 

something happened overnight, and you’d gone from bad to worse within a matter of hours. what had started out as a level of illness that was more of an annoyance than anything had spiralled to an obnoxious level of discomfort.

the blocked nose, the sharp scratch in your throat, the awful cough, and the pulsing headache would all be bad enough on their own, but experiencing them all in one sitting seemed like a level of torture that you definitely didn’t deserve. yet, here you were. and there was nothing you could really do about it. 

it took every last ounce of strength in you not to cry.

you were just so frustrated. nothing felt right, and sleep was definitely out of the question; you were left with no other option than to sit and feel sorry for yourself, and hell, who could blame you?

"babe?" luke asked, voice thick with a blend of sleep and concern that already worked to soothe you a little. it was like your own personal medicine, washing over your body and allowing your muscles to relax a fraction.

"sorry," you all but croaked, and luke winced at the sound. speaking had to be impossibly painful for you right now, there was no doubt about it. "y’can go back to sleep, 'm fine."

your attempt at lying was already pitiful, but it was truly ruined when, not even five seconds later, you promptly burst into tears. luke’s extension of care had broken the emotional dam you’d tried to build up, and the wave of upset quickly came crashing over you. 

luke swore that he could feel each individual crack splintering across his heart at the sight of you. how he was simply supposed to 'go back to sleep' right now, even if he wanted to, was a total mystery to him.

"hey, hey, c'mere," he mumbled, sounding more like he was addressing a wounded animal than his girlfriend.

without hesitation, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you against him, his hand tracing circles on the small of your back as you sobbed into him. small ‘i know, i know’s passed his lips, and he hoped to any god that they sounded reassuring and not patronising.

a particularly rough coughing fit interrupted your crying, and you tore yourself away from him to cover your mouth. luke mourned the loss of your body against his, the warmth replaced by the telltale cold of losing your embrace.

"i feel like fucking shit."

your voice cracked at every word, even cutting out completely on some syllables, and the expression on your face confirmed that speaking was hell for you right now.

never had luke seen you so utterly broken, and it was killing him. he knew that if you were any more coherent, you would’ve kicked him out of your room instantly, not wanting to risk getting him sick.

he knew that, because it had happened many times before.

it was like clockwork, a dance you two had mastered over the years together. you’d get a slight cold, luke would offer to take care of you, and you’d shut him down immediately, not wanting your sniffles to be the reason the devils lost one of their defensemen for a game or two.

but this was far worse than a common cold, and no amount of convincing would be able to pull luke from your side.

luke sat for a moment, formulating a plan in his mind with a level of precision only otherwise reserved for his time on the ice. he gnawed at his bottom lip gently as he thought, a hand reaching out to brush the hot skin of your thigh to let you know he was still there.

after a minute, he spoke.

“alright, i’m gonna go grab some stuff for you and i’ll be right back okay?” luke promised, rising to his feet.

a stern, yet caring, look shot down your feeble attempt at arguing with him. nothing you could say or do right now would prevent him from looking after you.

“you just get y’self comfy, babe. i’ll be back before you know it.”

a kiss to your forehead sealed his goodbye, and the soft thump of his feet against the wood flooring became quieter as he made his way into the kitchen. you sniffled once more, wiping away the stray tears from your cheeks with the palms of your hands and propped yourself up against one of the pillows, sighing deeply. 

remnants of luke’s warmth seemed to bleed along the sheets, tingling underneath your skin to remind you that he was here, looking after you, and he was happy to do it. a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips, and you held back from burying yourself into luke’s side of the bed despite your heart silently begging you to. 

as promised, luke returned not too long after, balancing a few objects in his hands. whilst one hand clasped a steaming mug of tea, the other contained some painkillers and medicine you had in your cabinet, along with a bottle of cold water. luke had apparently grabbed anything in sight that he thought would help you out, and cupid’s arrow snagged your heartstrings once more. 

within seconds your bedside table was decorated with his haul, and the mug of tea carefully handed to you with a warning that it would be hot. luke busied himself with figuring out how much of each medication you could take, making a mental note as to when you could have the next dose with furrowed brows.

his fingers stretched out to gently tap your palm twice, a silent request for you to hold out your unoccupied hand so he could drop the pills into them for you. the fact you had woken him up at god knows what time of night and his movements were laced more with love than exhaustion was truly a testament to how much he adored you, and it made you feel giddy despite your awful state.

a sympathetic sound left his mouth as he reached out a hand to cup your jaw, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone as though you were fine china, something delicate for him to cherish and admire. 

“drink some tea and then try and get some more sleep, baby,” he said in a hushed tone, pressing a gentle kiss to your clammy forehead. “know it sounds impossible, but the meds should make it a bit easier for you. ‘m not going anywhere either, so wake me up if you need me.”

you nodded, lifting the mug to your lips and taking a small sip of the hot liquid. the fact that luke had brewed the drink in your favourite mug didn’t go unnoticed, and you gave him a fond smile over the rim of the mug as the beverage eased the strain of your throat. 

as luke clambered back into bed next to you, pulling you into his side carefully so as not to spill your tea everywhere, your frustration began to fade, curling like the tendrils of steam coming from your mug and floating towards the ceiling. 

though your sickness wasn’t miraculously cured, the soft kisses luke repeatedly pressed to the top of your head and temple provoked small bursts of happiness to erupt in your mind, like fireflies carrying a golden glow that paled in comparison to that of the boy next to you. 

[simonsomeriley]

please would you write for Ellie x doctor!reader in Jackson who looks after everyone and helps Ellie out after a patrol one day!

your wish is my command <3

1.3k words | gn!reader

You're walking on the slippery ice on the road of Jackson, you hear the sounds of children giggling through the streets, everything here just feels like home.

Even with the worries of whats going on outside, the little community you've all built together makes it at least a little bit better. Being able to help the people of your community, the children. Makes it all better, day by day.

In the morning, the elders go outside for their chit-chats and their coffee, watching the kids run outside. Playing football, drawing with chalk, finally being able to let kids be kids again.

The evenings are spent doing your jobs and your tasks, gathering supplies like wood, water refills, & food, the chefs are in the kitchen cooking up what they can make of what they have.

You, on the other hand, spend your evenings in the medical supply tent. Putting cartoon bandaids on kids' knees after they fall, stitching up some people who have fallen on the ice. And what you do best, take care of your self-proclaimed "hunters" after they've been out on patrol.

And the night time is spent with dim lights, cleaning up, & getting children ready for bed.

Your medical tent is usually up 24/7, just in case an emergency happens past usual work hours. If there has been a lot of cases in one day, usually the nice older lady that runs the bakery will get you a sweet treat as a reward.

You're just cleaning up the tent per usual in the afternoon, mopping the floor and sanitizing what tools you have. There had been Ellie's turn to go on patrol today, Ellie and Jessie together. They'd left a couple of hours ago, nothing seemingly out of order. Usually they'd stay out until it got dark, or in Joel's words "Testing God's patience."

You hear the sound of hooves, galloping, humans running to open the gates & lots of loud talking. It dies down after a while, you decide that it wasn't anything urgent. Assuming that if it was, you'd probably be called over for some look-overs for serious injuries.

You hear someone enter your tent, you look up from where you're sterilizing some needles. It's Jesse. He's alone. You'd just assumed Ellie came hand-in-hand with Jesse, realizing now that it wasn't the case.

"Anything happen, Jesse? Anything I need to get my emergency kit out for?" Jesse looks around, like he's familiarizing his surroundings, "Nah. To me? No. Ellie could use some help, though. Hopefully nothing too serious. She got some infected hangin' off of Shimmer,"

You stand up, gathering some items off of your desk and putting them in an over the shoulder bag, "She's fine though, right? No injuries, just some bruising I'm assuming?"

"If you're talking about the horse, Shimmer's fine. If you're talking about the human, Ellie's not lookin' too hot. Luckily the infected got off by the time we neared the gates. Think she hit her head pretty hard, though."

You walk over to the opening of the tent, where Jesse's standing in the makeshift "doorway", "I'll have a look at 'er. Make sure you get the horses in the stables, okay?"

Jesse backs up, walking out of the tent, "Sure, mom. Good thing there wasn't any major weather. The infected were hiding under the already fallen snow. No way to figure out whether there'd be infected under there or not. I'd say we made it out pretty good for how many of those monsters were out there,"

You're walking towards the gate now, some people are gathered there & discussing patrol curfew, horses & partners. You spot Joel by Ellie's side though, seemingly she looked fine a tad bit, bruised, with some minor cuts, you spotted no extreme injuries or anything major.

Jesse's walked over to the stables now, you approach Ellie with your bag over your shoulder, "How're you holding up, Ells? You aren't looking so hot,"

She whips her head around at the sound of your voice, from where she's standing talking to Joel. "I'm fine," of course. The default, tiring, awkward response. I'm fine.

"Really, I could take you to the tent and just get you checked over. Make sure you don't have any deeper-than-skin injuries that'll affect you later,"

She seems to nod and sigh in defeat, the all stubborn girl she is, and she walks with you by your side back to the medical tent.

"Jesse told me about the infected. Seemed pretty intense out there, huh? Glad Shimmer's alright and you aren't missing any limbs,"

She holds eye contact as you speak, looking away at the end of your sentence and widening her eyes, "Yet. Never know how many of those guys are out there, y'know? It's hard to tell in the winter time. S'like they run on freezing weather or something,"

You lift up the entrance of the tent for her as she leans down to get under it, "You're reckless, you know that? You should be more careful. Like Joel says, you only live once, at least make it worth the while," she winces as she bends down, and she tries to cover it up. You notice.

You sit her down at a chair with a pillow on the seat, "You're not very good at pretending, do you know that?"

The smug grin on her face tells you enough.

You dampen a washcloth in the sink, bringing it over to her and wiping at the dried blood stains on her face. Most of it disappears without trace. That's good, that means it's mostly coming from one place. Not many wounds.

She has an indent in her upper lip. You take note of it.

You ask her to take off her jacket, leaving her in just her band t-shirt and her jeans. You check her arms for any wounds, and once you reckon you've found every injury, you get out your needle and thread.

You figure the cut in her upper lip would heal on its own, recommending her some cleaning solution to keep on her bedside table.

You sew the cut in her arm together, from what looks like could broken glass or a hard slam against the ground.

You put a band-aid over the stitching, and you're now instructing her on how to keep the cut on her upper lip clean. She's completely out of focus with what you're saying.

You keep rustling in your stash, finding the cleaning solution and q-tips at last, demonstrating how to take care of it.

Her eyes are only focused on you. She watches you like you hung the moon and the stars up in the sky.

You come back to your senses after ranting about cleaning wounds & how to do it at home, and you realize that she's closer to your face than what you remembered. You could almost feel her cold-minty breath on your face if you focused hard enough. Her pupils are dilated.

It's been quiet for a while. Neither of you notice or bring it up. It's a comfortable quiet. A shared silence.

You feel her lip graze yours. You want to stop her. You want to tell her off for this so bad, you'd say, "Ellie, you have a fresh cut on your lip. This isn't a good idea," but still. You can't bring yourself to say it. Not when her closeness feels this good. This right.

She asks permission. After sitting in silence for the past couple of minutes, she asks permission, "Can I?" you freeze. You don't know what to say.

Her eyes are on you. You feel her heart rhythm. Her breathing. You nod your head to the best of your abilities when your head feels this clouded from her attention.

She leans in close, and the gap between your lips closes. You feel her lips on yours for long, a sweet, heart-warming kiss. You can practically feel her smirk against your face before you pull away.

"Might have to be reckless more often if this is what I get out of it,"

[sinnabarmoth]

Worthy of Devotion (8/9)

Pairing: Sea God|Rafayel x Worshipper|Reader (fem)

Summary: Reader returns to the mainland.

Content Warnings: Adult language.

Length: 5k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (9)

Read on AO3

When you woke the next morning Rafayel was gone. The sheets next to you were long cold and you tried not to think of when in the night he had left. Upon the pillow was a ring with a note folded inside it.

My heart,

I can only imagine what you may feel when you wake and find this letter. Know this decision to leave first comes with a heavy heart and no shortage of tears. I know that if I were to stay to see you off I would not be able to let you go. Even now it is taking everything in me to not steal you from the bed and take you to Lemuria with me so we never have to part. But I know you have made your decision and you will not be moved from it. I know you will be a wonderful priestess and I will always be listening for your prayers.

If ever there is a time that you want me to come for you, all you need to do is call. I hope to see you one day soon, but I will wait however long it takes until you are ready to return. You are my heart and soul, and one day I will take you to Lemuria and make you my wife.

The sea will grant you a speedy delivery back to the mainland. Make change. Create something better than what you left. I love you. I miss you.

Yours and only yours,

Rafayel

P.S. You hadn’t taken a pearl yet so I hope this ring will suffice.

You read over the note again, heavy sobs echoing in the cold loneliness of the room. You picked up the ring, it was a simple gold band with a lone pure white pearl in the center. You slipped it on and took a moment to collect yourself and let the sorrow of his absence wash through and out of you. When you could finally breathe normally again you eased off the bed and shuffled your way into the bathing room.

Once you were clean and dressed you locked the door to the bedroom behind you and left the temple. The sky was a dismal grey but the sea was not choppy. Rafayel’s promise to give you a quick return home overshadowing whatever mood affected the weather so. You pushed the boat deeper into the water and hopped aboard, unfurling the sail to take you home. The moment you did a gale of wind blew in to fill it and you were off. As you watched the island get smaller and smaller behind you a loneliness you had never felt before grew larger and larger. Despite the fact that you were wearing his ring, the clothes he prepared you, and sat on a ship in the middle of his ocean, you felt as if Rafayel was so much farther from your grasp.

You knelt on the floor of the boat, feeling the breeze cut across your face. It smelled like him. You wanted to reach out, say something to him, but you had no idea what. Nothing felt right. Finally, as night descended you laid down to rest.

“Raf…” you spoke softly, “I…I miss you. I wish you would have been there this morning but I understand why you weren’t. I don’t think I would have been able to leave if you were there. Even now I want to turn around and go back but I know I need to return to civilization to fix things. I’ll try not to be away for too long. I love you. I pray you will continue to bless and protect me.”

The clouds above you started to dissipate to reveal a sky full of stars. You smiled, imagining his voice in your ear. Your prayer has been heard. Good night, my little human.

It took a couple days of straight sailing but luckily for you the sea was on your side and by the third morning you saw the shadow of the mainland on the horizon. Something swelled in you seeing the place you had called home again after such a long absence. You found the book that you had written with Rafayel and clutched it tight to your chest as you pulled into the pier.

The sight of your ship, obviously not made by mortal men gathered attention. The sail itself was made of some kind of gossamer Lemurian cloth that glimmered like the sun upon the water. So they must have seen you coming from a mile away.

By the time you got to the pier you saw a priestess racing their way down the beach alongside other curious villagers. No doubt word had traveled incredibly fast of your approach. You threw a rope to one of the dock hands and they tethered the boat for you.

The priestess that you had seen before was running up the dock, out of breath and red in the face. She was stunned to see you that was for sure. Her eyes raked you up and down in all your regalia. “You’re alive!” she said, pulling you in for a tight hug. “Thank the gods! We had thought you perished on the sea when you left months ago for your pilgrimage! What’s happened to you? Where have you been?”

“I went to the Pearl Temple.” you said. “I found it in ruins, abandoned for hundreds of years. Would you care to explain that to me?”

“The temple…” her eyes went wide. “Oh…um…” she glanced around at the crowd around you. “Perhaps we should speak more about this at the temple.”

“You lied. You all lied about going to the temple. You built your faith on fabrications and left one of our most sacred temples to fall into shambles because of your fear.” you stared her down. “You and the others are all charlatans, false clergymen that have had no right to dictate the church of Rafayel.”

The crowd started to whisper as the first seeds of distrust were sown.

“My dear, there is too much excitement here. We should go--”

“We will go. But not because you think you can silence me. The people will know the truth and a new congregation will be erected to replace this sham that you and the others have perpetuated for generations.”

You could see the indignation growing on her face as people began to talk louder. Their words echoing all around you. Sham. Charlatans. Sacrilege. Blasphemy.

“You must not say such things.” she pressed, her teeth gritted. “Obviously your trip has left you feeling weary and not in your right mind. We should go back to the temple now.”

“I have never been more sane of mind.” you stepped onto a crate, giving yourself a better vantage point for the others to see and hear you. “When I left I was caught in a storm that was so fierce I was thrown from my vessel and into the sea. My boat was destroyed and I nearly drowned. My life was saved by the Sea God Rafayel, he came to me and delivered me to the Pearl Temple and told me that it had been abandoned for hundreds of years.”

Your voice rang loud for all to hear. There were gasps and whispers and some skeptical looks. “I have spent the last several months repairing the temple and chronicling this,” you held the book up. “The truth of the Sea Gods, penned from the mouth of Rafayel himself.”

“You are making a lot of fantastical claims.” the priestess was trying desperately to regain control. “We all know your story, my dear. You have always been blessed by the ocean but to say that His Radiance, the God of the Seas himself came to you and told you all these things seems a little far-fetched. Even for someone of my faith.”

“He has named me his high priestess. He adorned me with these clothes, this ring, and this boat. I carry the words he spoke to me. What more proof do you require?”

“Then if you have such a connection, call upon him. Let us see how His Radiance answers you.”

You didn’t bother fighting back the smile on your face. “Of course.”

You looked out at the ocean. “Rafayel,” you spoke softly, “Can you send me a little storm?”

A breeze blew across the docks. Suddenly, dark clouds began to roll in impossibly quick, blotting out the bright sun. Claps of thunder roared in the sky and the ocean went from serene to turbulent in a matter of seconds. Rain poured from the sky in a torrent and you turned your face to it. The tears you shed thankfully hidden in the downpour.

There were cheers and shouts as people exclaimed that you had been blessed with a direct line to the Sea God. The priestess looked up at you, horror written across her face as she realized exactly what she was dealing with now. “Now we can return to the temple.” you said. “There is much I need to discuss with the others about the lies you have all told.”

The meeting was a tense one as you battled it out with the other priests and priestesses. They had numbers on you and in any other circumstance that would have been enough. But with every act of intimidation you sent a silent prayer to Rafayel and another crack of thunder shook the temple.

The torrent of rain had yet to abate in the back of your mind you wanted to weep knowing that this was what he had been holding out on since the moment you left. This was not just to help you, it was his sorrow beating down on the windows.

When it became apparent that you not only had met Rafayel but had forged some strong connection to him there was little the others could do. They feared Rafayel’s wrath too much to go against his direct wishes. You knew their fear was not what he wanted but you needed to get yourself into the appropriate position of power to implement the changes needed.

Your things were brought to a new room, one meant for the highest of priests and priestesses. It was not as grand as Rafayel’s room back at the Pearl Temple but it was far better than the quarters you had lived in before. What was even better was that it looked right out at the ocean.

When you were finally alone you collapsed onto the bed, taking the letter Rafayel had written to you out and read it over again and again. This was the start. In your hopeful mind you wanted to believe it would take no time at all to create the congregation Rafayel wanted. But you knew such a thing would take time and patience. There was no telling when you’d return but you knew you would.

“It’s starting.” you whispered to the air. “Each day from now on is another day closer to us seeing each other again. I love you.”

The first couple of days were the hardest. Getting used to not seeing Rafayel when you spent every day with him before was a task. You found yourself constantly waiting for him to show up and bother you. The most you heard from him were gestures you could only feel in your bones came from him. A breeze that tousled your hair and kissed your cheeks, a wave crashing along the beach that was a little too sudden to be coincidence, that sort of thing.

Gradually the days turned into weeks which turned into months. You spent most of your days fighting back against the elders of the temple as they tried to tell you what it is they had been taught. You did not think that they would rally against the actual word of their god so hard. You were upheaving the entire religion and basically correcting every practice that people had thought was set in stone. It may have been set in stone but you were wielding the hammer. You had given up being with Rafayel to make this religion work and you’d be damned if they took that sacrifice from you.

Your power, you began to realize, was in the younger crowd as more and more followers started to join and listen to what you had to say. You knew part of their devotion to study was born from fascination, not so much with Rafayel but with you. In the months since your return you had heard all sorts of rumors pertaining to yourself and what exactly had happened at the Pearl Temple that intertwined you with Rafayel so intimately.

It was no one else’s business what had happened. They did not need to know that the ring on your finger was not just some adornment given to you by Rafayel. It was a promise. You were his priestess right now but one day you would be his bride.

There were some nights as you laid in your bed, the heartache and loneliness built up. Memories of your night with Rafayel came back to you. How loved you had felt in his embrace. How desired.

Your hand would reach between your legs, imagining it was him instead. His name left your lips in a whimper over and over as you pushed yourself to release. In those moments the wind would buffet the walls of the temple and you knew he could hear you. The sea would churn and swell and only settled when you yourself had reached your release once again.

The first time it happened you had walked to the dining room where the others were preparing to eat breakfast. You had poured yourself something to drink when one of the new followers had come to talk to you.

“Did you hear the wind last night? I thought the temple was going to blow away.” they said and you nearly choked on your drink. “Are you alright?” they patted your back.

“Ah, yes, I’m fine.” you cleared your throat. “Oh uh yeah, I didn’t notice any wind.”

“Oh, so you do not think that Rafayel is upset with us for some reason?”

Your face burned. “No. Believe it or not but not every force of nature pertains to Rafayel.” The fact that the small storm last night did was none of their business though.

You told Rafayel about the incident during your evening prayer and though you couldn’t see him you knew he had to have been laughing. You missed his laugh.

It was a surprise when you realized the time had passed and marked a full year since you left the Pearl Temple. The only reason you may have realized is because a terrible hurricane swept in from off the ocean and devastated the city. You could feel what the hurricane truly was though. Rafayel was out there somewhere mourning.

One year and you had heard nothing but winds and waves from him. One year since you had made love to him and bonded with him. Had that much time truly passed? It was hard to believe. Once you realized though you mourned as well.

“Raf,” you whispered, “I miss you too.”

Another monstrous wave flooded over the beach and into the city. “But I need you to calm your emotions. The city will end up underwater if you don’t stop.”

The storm seemed to stutter but continued. You sighed. “My Rafayel, please, I am here with you. I am right here. We are never far apart, not so long as you can hear my prayers. This separation will not be forever. Hopefully one day soon I can call on you to bring me home. But it will take longer if I have to also help rebuild the city.”

The storm finally started to gentle, the waves receded. The rain still poured and winds still bent the trees but the worst of it had ended. You continued to pray to him, talking endlessly about whatever you could think of until your eyes grew heavy and you fell asleep. When you woke in the morning the sky was clear again.

The date of the hurricane was not missed by the elders that still fought back against your changes. They tried to poison the minds of the younger followers by saying that the hurricane was a terrible and divine punishment for your return.

“It would be best for the city if you were to return to the sea where His Radiance clearly wants you to be.” they had said, jabbing a weathered finger in your face.

“You are right, Rafayel does want me back in the ocean.” you said. “But the storm was not a punishment. It was his mourning. He is well now. I know it.”

“Mourning.” they scoffed.

A righteous anger bubbled under your skin at their dismissal. “You do not get to say what it is Rafayel feels. You do not know him. You could know who he truly is if you would listen to me but you would rather blasphemy him with your false worship.”

“How dare you!” they shouted, “I have been His Radiance’s loyal follower for fifty years! I know--”

“Fifty years ago the Sea God was not the one we know now. You would know that if you listened. You would know it is a title passed down through the Lemurians and that Rafayel is the latest in a long line of Sea Gods. So do not speak to me of what you know. You know nothing. You are worse than an ignorant child, because at least a child can be taught. You are stuck in your ways and it has no place in this clergy. If you do not approve of how I, Rafayel’s personally appointed High Priestess, am running things then you are more than free to leave.”

The hall had gone silent. The elder priest looked around for support but the sudden command and power you presented kept them from interfering.

You raised your voice so the congregation could hear you clearly. “Let it be known that I gave you more than enough time to worship our god properly, to learn, to do better. And you have chosen to remain ignorant and wrong. So it is with a heavy heart that I strip you of your title as priest and all power of church you held is dismissed. You may have your time to gather your things and will be expected to be out of the temple by sunrise tomorrow. Do you understand?”

The former priest bit his lip and nodded.

You hated having to be so coarse but a year had passed and you were scrambling for purchase. It would be a decade or more before you saw Rafayel again if you didn’t start being more authoritative. Instances like these could not go ignored any longer. Either they listened and they learned and they worshiped out of love and a desire to serve or they had no place in your congregation. A flower cannot bloom if it is choked by weeds.

With your authority better established and the new followers now finally starting to overtake the number of old ones you were making larger strides. A moment of great pride was when you were able to send some of your new acolytes to journey to the Pearl Temple themselves.

You had walked down to the ocean with them and sent up a prayer. “Raf, I’m sending some of your new followers to the temple. Make sure they make it there safe, please.”

The tide lapped around you and when you looked down a seashell had washed up between your feet. You picked it up and held it close. You turned to the others with a wide smile. “He’s promised you a safe journey. You should make it to the temple with no issue.”

You watched as they took off in their boat. A new generation of priests and priestesses in the making. You did not leave until their boat had disappeared over the horizon. You knelt down into the waves so the water lapped around your waist. “Not too much longer now. These are good kids I’m sending. I know they will make good priests for you. Soon enough this city won’t need me anymore. I’ll be able to come home soon.”

The water crashed around you and the pull back into the ocean was a little stronger, as if it was trying to drag you in with it. You laughed. “Soon. I promise. Then I can whip your butt at Jumping Shrimp for the rest of our lives.”

A larger wave swelled and crashed over you, drenching you completely. “Don’t take it out on me because you stink at it. Maybe this time apart is good. It’ll give you a chance to actually practice and hopefully get better. I could use a challenge for once.”

Another wave crashed over you. “You ass. You’re so lucky I love you.”

Another year passed. You sent more and more people out to the Pearl Temple when you thought they were ready. They’d come back in a week or two having done the necessary upkeep and studied. Every so often you heard them talking about how they were sure they saw a Lemurian swimming around the coast of the island. They had always kept a distance but they were sure they had seen them.

It may have been Rafayel or it could have possibly been someone else. Maybe he was stopping by to check on the new faces. Maybe he was searching for you. Either way, you were happy to hear the news each time it happened.

With the second anniversary there was another hurricane. It was not as bad as the last but you still had to pray through the night. It helped you just as much as it seemed to help Rafayel. Though you were far apart you were never gone.

You spent the next year training the new priests and priestesses. You had found one of great faith that you decided to groom into being your successor when you finally stepped down as high priestess. She was smart and loyal and held the leadership and conviction to be able to lead this clergy.

Before you knew it, three years had passed since that fateful day you left the Pearl Temple. Three years…it felt like a lifetime. And as you stared out at the congregation that you had built, people who loved Rafayel and wanted to worship him out of desire and not fear, it hit you. You had done it. Three years of continuous work and this was the result. People you knew. People you trusted. A religion you knew Rafayel would be proud to be the head of.

“I’m…I’m done.” you stared down at your ring and a giddiness usually reserved for small children shot through you. “Everything has been set right again. I can go home.”

You had run to the others the moment you realized. They stopped and stared as you skidded to a stop in front of them in the central hall of the temple. “Everyone! I have an announcement!” you called for them. “Please. Everyone listen carefully.”

They gave you their undivided attention, curious as to what news you could possibly have. “I have decided that after three wonderful years of being your high priestess, I will be abdicating my position to my protege effective immediately.”

There was an eruption of noise as questions were hurled at you. You heard others begging you not to do this. What were they to do if you were not there to lead them?

“I understand that this is a shock so I will be honest with you all.” you quieted them back down. “My position was always meant to be a temporary one. As much as I love you all, I made a promise three years ago that I still need to keep. And now that I have seen the glorious fruit of my labors I feel safe leaving this congregation in your hands. I know you will all make me proud.”

Your protege approached, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you sure? What if we aren’t as ready as you think?”

You smiled, hugging her close. “You are. You’re nervous I know, but you will do beautifully.”

“Where will you go?”

“I’m going home.” your smile nearly cracked your face in two. “I’m returning to someone I love and who I have been waiting a long time to be with again.”

“Who? Who is more important than Rafayel?” one of the others asked.

“No one. Which is why I need to go back to him.”

Realization started to dawn in some of their eyes. Others you could tell were still confused. You didn’t want to make a big fuss about it but your brothers and sisters all but demanded to send you off properly.

Word spread fast about your departure from the church. While they planned their farewell celebration you packed your things. If it was up to you you would have run down to the sea that very second but you knew the others needed this goodbye so you kept yourself on land for another night. You hardly slept that night, too excited for morning to come.

The moment the sun started to rise you were out of bed, the bare essentials you wanted to keep secured in a bag, and you sped down to the beach. The entire city seemed to be there. Watching and waiting to see what you were going to do. You really didn’t want to make such a big ado about this but you couldn’t deny you were looking forward to seeing their reactions.

You turned to your protege and did the necessary rituals of passing on the role of high priestess to her. You turned and gave the others you had taught one final embrace and then turned back towards the ocean. You stepped into the sea, the water rushing over your feet and swirling around your ankles.

“Rafayel,” you said, your voice light with joy, “I’m done. I want to come home now. Can you come and get me?”

The sea had gone still for a moment before the tide picked back up. You clutched your bag tightly as several long silent minutes went by. You could hear the villagers behind you talking, wondering what it is they were waiting for.

It was someone else that pointed out the large wave growing on the horizon. “What is that?” they sounded panicked, “What have you done?”

You couldn’t keep the smile off your face if you tried. Your whole body was buzzing as the wave got closer and closer before it suddenly disappeared about two miles out from shore. Then something emerged from the water, towering and giant and beautiful. Gods above he was so dramatic.

The villagers behind you were clamoring and sputtering as they saw him emerge, his smile brighter than the sun and you knew he saw you. There was a flash of light as he dove back down into the water. He was back to his normal form and rushing forward through the water towards you. You couldn’t keep still a second longer and ran to him, the water sloshing up to your waist as you threw yourself into his arms.

He caught you easily and held you tight to his chest.

“Your prayer has been heard.” his voice was like music to your ears. “Finally. I have missed you so much, cor meum.”

“I missed you too.”  you were crying and you didn’t think you’d be able to stop. “Sorry it took so long.”

He pulled back slightly to look in your eyes. “A lifetime with you is more than worth the wait.”

Your hands wove into his hair and pulled him forward, planting your mouth on his in a kiss that was long overdue. After so long it felt as if a part of you had finally been returned. Everything about him was exactly as you had remembered it. But he was a memory no longer. He was here and he was warm in your arms.

It wasn’t until you finally pulled back to breathe that you remembered the entire city was standing on the beach behind you, watching you kiss a god. Your eyes went wide and you hid your face in his shoulder. “Gods above, I forgot they were there for a second.”

Rafayel chuckled. He pressed another kiss to your head and hoisted you up off your feet and into his arms. You both turned to look at the others who had surged forward to watch the spectacle. Rafayel cleared his throat and raised his chin to motion he was going to speak to them. They all instantly fell silent.

“Hello. I want to thank you all for watching over my bride. I’m going to be taking her home now though.” he turned back to you. “Think that will suffice?”

“It will certainly be a story to tell.” you gave one last look to everyone and raised your hand in farewell. “Now let’s go home.”

With that he gave you one more kiss and you returned to the ocean for good.

[fictionalmenxyn]

¡𝟏𝟎 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐈 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮!

Pt.2

Pairing: Rafe x Reader (strangers/enemies to lovers)

Warnings: language

-❂❂❂-

It was the next day, Rafe wore a white polo with navy slacks. His usual yet more ‘fancier’ outfit. He wanted to look good. Not that he needed to, but he did anyway.

You wore a light grey tank top, with blue baggy jean shorts and your adidas campuses. Topping the outfit off with a small silver chain, your rings and a pair of 2000s sunglasses.

The weather was nice, the suns shinned down on the high school.

You pulled up to school, rock punk music blaring. Your windows down, you pulled into your usual parking spot. Stepping out of your car your friends approached you. Starting up conversations, you leaned on the hood of your car.

Rafe sat in a small wall with his friends. He watched as you lean down to look in your wing mirror, to see if your hair was slicked back. He liked your style, never thought he’d be into a girl who wore baggy clothes. He was used to the tight fitted cali girls.

-❂❂❂-

You sat in one of the vacant music rooms, an empty room besides to small desks that are pressed to the wall. Some broken chairs. And obviously cased instruments.

You had your headphones on, only one side covering your ear. You had your borrowed fender (from your friend, cause she plays drums and had the guitar from her dad). The electric guitar sat on your lap, holding the neck of the fender in your left hand. You strummed the electric guitar to the beat of the song ‘Just A Girl’ by No Doubt.

Rage heard the guitar, he walked towards the music. Peaking into the classroom, to see you.

You sang quietly, not planning on anyone hearing in. “Take this pink ribbon off my eye…”

‘Oh my god, she sounds amazing’ he thought.

“I’m exposed and it’s no big surprise… don’t you think I know exactly where I stand??”

Your head bops as you play, Rafe watched in awe.

“Cause I’m just a girl in the world, a little ol’ me, well don’t let me out of your sight… oh I’m just a girl in the world, all pretty and petit, so don’t let me have any rights, ohhh I’ve had it up to here…”

Rafe muttered “oh fuck…” he watched as you play the guitar. In a world of your own. He watched you to know that he thought it was cool. But didn’t wanna scare you by you knowing he was watching. Not yet anyways…

“Oh I’m just a girl, take a good look at me, just your typical prototype, ohhh I’ve had it up to, here..”

You bop your head, feeling the music, your escape.

“Ohhh am I making myself clear??, I’m just a girl… I’m just a girl in the world, that’s all that you’ll ever let me be…”

Soon after, your strumming dragged, you subtly faded the song out. You turn some of the nobs on the fender.

Rafe thought this was the time to announce his presence. He quietly opened the door and leaned against the doorway. He crossed his arms, “nice play… wish I was that talented…”

You flinched slightly, you looked over your shoulder. “Rafe? What’re you doing here??” He chuckled softly, walking further into the room. “Head the great guitar, so I followed the music, and… it took me right here…”

He sat in the empty desk opposite where you sat. He asked “so? How long have you played?” You looked down to the guitar, you answered “about six years??” He let out a low whistle “damn, sweetheart, you got skills…” you chuckled “thanks…”

He asked “this yours? If so you got good taste…” He gestured to the white and pearl fender. You shook your head “nah, this is my friends, she’s letting me borrow it till I save my cash to get my own…” he took note of that. He nodded “right, you like your music then I take it?” You nodded. He didn’t bother asking what you liked. He knew. Topper and him had a little ‘get together’ so he could learn about you. He knows the majority about you now… or as much as Topper’s sister and Topper knew anyways…

-❂❂❂-

You walked down the hallway, scoffing when Brooks checked you out. You kept walking, heading to science.

Rafe saw the way Brooks checked you out. Rafe didn’t know your past. But the look Brooks gave you said something. He didn’t know what, but it was something. He also didn’t know Brooks had the hots for your sister. Rather than you.

-❂❂❂-

In science, you sat at the middle-left desk. With two of your friends and a random girl that never talked with you. You all had to dissect a frog. In your eyes, there was nothing wrong with that. Come on, it was a part of the educational system. Also, it’s basic nature, you never understood why everyone was grossed out by it. You roll your eyes when you hear the ‘popular’ girls over react to get the jocks’ attention.

Rafe was never grossed out by this stuff. Why should you? It’s already dead, it’s not gonna jump on you. Besides, you had gloves, just had to be careful for any juices that may fly on you. He was known for a slightly ‘bad’ or ‘scary’ reputation. Having thrown wild and obnoxious parties in California. Or the wild stories he’s had. Somehow coming over to Outer Banks. He never knew how half the stories got here, but… they flew over along with him.

He chuckled with the guys when they all saw the way you and your friends acted with the frogs compared to the rest of the girls in class.

He had to hold his laughter back when you flicked some random liquid at the popular girls. Them being over dramatic, when all you actually did was tip water on your hands under the desk and flicked water on them.

You were a trouble maker, a shit stirrer, a good laugh. He liked that. A lot.

-❂❂❂-

At lunch, Rafe had a chat with Jake. Jake mentioned to him about making a deal. One that got him money, not that he needed it. But he liked how it involved getting closer to you, the money was just a bonus. He may even had a plan on how to use that spare cash…

Rage was in. The deal, getting close to you, allowing Gabs to go on dates and go to parties with Brooks. Whatever you did with Rafe, Gabs could do with Brooks. Rafe got spare cash, Gabs got to live the ‘teenage dream’ she wanted to have. Even if the movies hyped it up to much.

This was the perfect time, the school formal was just around the corner. Also a party at the ‘golfer guys’ place.

Well just have to see if you go through with it all…

-❂❂❂-

[sparklingmineraltequila]

American Wasteland

Note: Took me slightly longer than I'd have liked but there's been some pretty intense weather where I am. We are finally starting getting to get to the meat of it with these two.

'93/4 Rust Cohle x OFC

Warnings: sex work, violence, drugs, slight smut, weird semi-roleplaying at the end

The girl performing the strip tease hsd a deep blue bruise on her thigh. She's skinny. Too skinny. Not just because her hip bones threaten to permeate the pale, embryonic stretch of her skin, but because of that look in her eyes. Crazed. Starving. Attempting to seduce the men sat round the stage with practiced sultry glances, promising a good time if they just let her sit on their lap, awkwardly grind onto their hard-ons and then let them slip a couple bills in her padded out bra. Rust isn't even sure he can decipher what that look is after. Attention? he muses, Affection? No, upon further inspection of her, he pushes aside his psychoanalysis and reaches a far more pragmatic, desolating conclusion: food. Poor kid is hungry.

He's slumped in a booth, beer in one hand and rolled up dollar bill in another, the club's music and raucous laughter of his fellow Crusaders throbbing in his head. Ginger turns to him,

'What's that about then, Crash?' a leering smile adorning his tobacco stained teeth. Rust meets his gaze, a glaze a drug induced lethargy over his bloodshot eyes,

'What's what about?' he drawls, taking a pull on his beer. Tastes like warm piss, he thinks.

'Cassandra, right? One that looks like a fuckin' playboy model with those tits and that smile. You got her livin' with you, you lucky son of a bitch. Fuck, I'd give a solid month's cut to take some out on that bitch. She good for you?'

Rust thinks he can taste the bile in his mouth; acrid, slippery stuff coating his tongue as he speaks,

'Hell yeah she's fuckin' good for me. You think I'd let stay with me if she couldn't shut the fuck up and take it when I need her to?'

And he hates himself. God, he fucking hates himself. He wishes that hate could come from the vileness of the words he just spoke but it doesn't. He hates that the idea almost tempts him, seduces him with the promise of Cassandra breathy and sweating, her dark hairs sticking to that delicate neck, slick with sweat. It was like that the other night, when she had taken it upon herself to pay him another way after he had refused her money or 'rent payment.' Smart girl, Cassandra. She knows the price of things. It's never just an offered cigarette, a lent cup of sugar, a benevolent hand. No, not in this theatre of cruelty where the stakes seem to only get fucking higher which each passing year: there's always someone cooking it cheaper and better, a girl willing to do more for less. Self respect erodes fast here, replaced with a voracious need to survive. Cassandra knows that.

It was this way that she'd ended up on his lap, clambering onto him as he'd sat outside the trailer for a smoke. She'd rubbed herself onto him, like she'd done the first time in the club, only now he was far more at the mercy of the sentiments starting to take root in his chest. He'd almost managed to push her off, almost, but when the stiff metal of his jeans' fly rubbed against the lace of her underwear and the friction elicited that breathy moan of hers right in his ear, he would've rather taken a mean left hook than push her off. Come on, baby, she'd exhaled, trying the dulcet stripper routine, before her growing arousal forced her into the more desperate negotiation of Please, Crash. I promise I'll be good for you. Real good. Whatever you want, she'd whimpered, the buck of her hips growing more incessant, beginning to make wet spot on his jeans. He had looked up at her as she'd writhed against,

Not here, Cass, he'd managed to grit out, It ain't the time or the place.

Crash! she'd almost sobbed as he'd finally mustered the self-discipline to gently push her off him. She had crumpled onto the grass, slumped onto a leg of the lawn chair he had been sat on. Out of all of the times he had seen her looking fucked up: a nosebleed smeared halfway across her face from a client punching her in the nose, the gaunt, vacant look she'd worn for the week when her daddy finally mustered the courage to put a gun in his mouth, the humiliation and shame in her eyes when another Crusader was getting a dance and he'd be sat across the table. None of them had made him as furious as as he had felt when he looked down at her like that. Where the fuck that fury came from, he didn't know. Somewhere in the realm of pity.

Get the fuck up, Cassandra. Now. He had all but snarled at her. She had looked up at him and got up; the acquiescence of a woman who knows when a man could and might hurt her. She hadn't observed it for much longer, though.

What the fuck is your problem, Crash? I fucking see how you look at me. Shit, I can see your hard right now. You always looked at me at the club, would only ever accept dances from me, talk to me during them about shit other than how good I feel or smell or whatever-the-fuck. You lent me your fucking books! You asked me what I think your first tattoo should be! You let me live with you when my rent gets raised and I had nowhere to fucking go! But sex is too much, too much of an affront, she had seethed at him

I ain't doing this, you hear? I'm tryin' to protect you from the fuckin' corruption of this place and all you can think to do is be pissed off that I won't fuck you? Grow the fuck up

Well so help me for thinking that. Don't people who are- And Cassandra had caught herself, thank god she had caught herself. Poor baby, time old mistake of confusing sex with a man's love. Cassandra should know better, she does know better.

Who are what, huh? Rust asks, the unfinished question a cruel, callous tactic; he's baiting her, waiting for her to expose that soft underbelly like those Dolly Vardens he and his dad used to fish, slitting them open, a mess entrails and blood slopping out. She'd stared at him,

Don't be cruel

He'd narrowed his eyes at her, before getting up and throwing his cigarette but aside,

Look around you, Cass. You can't afford to be at the mercy of how I treat you

That's how they had left it with her slamming the trailer door and him going to get hammered with some of the other Crusaders. A vicious cycle, he knows, Palingenesis: circular continuity. How Cassandra had defined it one night, trying to aneasthetize his lurid habits with some polished, philosophical definition. He can't be too pissed, she learnt it from him. At first, defining it philosophically makes his suffering feel warranted, needed. He realises now that there is no need for suffering, it's a default setting to the fucking horror of existence. He can just stomach recognising it.

Ginger's now calling Cassandra over and she stalks over, all bone and sinew wearing a matching white lace bra and panties. The same ones she'd been washing in the sink with some random shower gel she'd found in the shower. Fuck, his shower gel.

'Well come on over, baby,' Ginger leers, 'Our Crash treatin' you good?'

Cassandra scans over the semicircle of Iron Crusaders for a mere second, before sitting snugly in Rust's lap. Sharp as a tack, his Cassandra, only way to keep a hunk of meat safe from the dogs is to give it to a bigger, meaner dog. She shuffles herself up his lap to his chest, demurely crossing her legs.

'Oh yeah. Real good,' she looks at Rust over her shoulder. She knows what they want: a good, little girl in her matching lace set at the mercy of their drugs or their prying, calloused hands or the 9mms tucked into the waistband of frayed denim. A little lamb who'll ask them where she's supposed to touch and if it's supposed to hurt like that. Rust knows it too.

'Damn right I do,' Rust agrees, landing a heavy slap on the side of her thigh which makes her jump slightly. The Crusaders errupt at this in either laughter, whistles or comments,

'Seems you ain't trained her that good if she's still that jumpy.'

'Slight little thing, ain't she.'

'Relax, sweetheart. Ain't no-one here gonna hurt you for no good reason.'

Rust wishes he could spare her this; rub the whiskey over her gums and numb it. But he can't, he knows any slip up will end up fatal for him and worse for her.

'You just ain't used to a how a real man treats his woman, yet. Ain't that right, baby?' he drawls, brushing some hair from her face with a cigarette pinched between his fingers.

'I am learning, though. You said I was, last night,' Cassandra replies, playing up the petulant pout.

'That was in a different context, baby,' he says mockingly, giving her a patronising pat on her thigh as the Crusaders whoop. 'She's a good listener, boys. Real good,' Rust says to their spectators. As vulnerable as she might be, Cassandra knows exactly how to work her crowd: male desire for sex and power mixed with a pretty girl's submission. Match, gasoline: boom.

Ginger leans across the table, 'So you do everything ou Crash, says huh?'

'Oh yeah,' she replies, 'Even when it hurts.'

Rust feels nauseous with lust.