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messenger-of-babel · 25 days ago

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Partners to Be

Summary: After being out of the field so long, you've been assigned to help Leon rescue the presidents daughter, but who really helps who? (Leon S. Kennedy x reader)

Word Count: 3.4K

Notes: WHERE ARE THE LEON GIRLIES AT? So writing this one I just kept going and going and got a little carried away but it's my first Leon appearance for this month! (he has other fics stored away in drafts). I hope that everyone's enjoyed our first two weeks! halfway there already. It's crazy that it took me this long to put Leon out on the list, so sorry for holding out on y'all. If anyone needs warnings: Swearing, mentions of veins/ blood. I think this is the longest fic I've put up so far so that's pretty wild (as I said, I got carried away but in my defence I was convinced I was cooking).

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Leon Kennedy was a strong man; dare you say the strongest man you'd ever known.

So strong in fact that they had sent him alone to scout for the president’s daughter, being dispatched to a remote area in Spain. As soon as he sent back the sign that she was there, you were flown in almost immediately to assist with getting her back safely.

Your hands had jittered gearing up to meet him, double checking your shoulder holsters to make sure they didn't slip and lead you to an embarrassing death. You hadn't ever worked with agent Kennedy before, but you had seen him around the halls of the DSO, imposing as the legends made him out to be.

The most you had even spoken to him was a casual greeting or a small 'you're welcome' when he thanked you for holding a door open. You were part of a different division, leading to you hardly seeing him around. Not to mention the fact that the man avoided the headquarters like the plague, eyes tired and mouth drawn into a thin line any time he was required to go in.

Now you were strapping up, armed to the teeth to help out the Golden agent on your first field mission in a year. When you finally arrived, you met him a little past the windmill that Hunnigan guided you to, and it had been so much worse than you thought.

Arriving, you had encountered a town square filled with dead bodies, faces warped and bubbled. If the fresh blood hadn't been there, you would have been convinced that they'd died a long time ago. You followed the carnage to the windmill, spotting your partner-to-be hidden off the path and hurrying over to him. "Agent Kennedy," you greet politely, slightly out of breath. "What's happened here? What's wrong with the villagers?"

Your blood freezes in your veins as he looks at you with those icy blue eyes, mouth pressed into a thin line. He draws his gun faster than you can blink, the barrel coming close than you'd like to your face before releasing a loud BANG. you flinch from the loud sound, and for a second you thought he had tried to kill you. Whirling around you see a villager writing on the road, axe in hand. Wordlessly he pushes past you, kneeling over the body and driving his knife into the side of the villager’s neck. The gurgles and scream die down with the writing, until the villager goes still.

You feel a light tremor in your hands at the efficient way he just disposed of someone, his face turning to meet your gaze. "They're not villagers, not anymore." he says, cleaning the blood from his knife in the crook of his elbow. "You're cleared to shoot to kill. They'll attack you the moment they see you."

You just nod, double checking that safety was off on your own handgun. He regards you for a silent moment, eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. "You're from division four, aren't you?" he asks curiously. "On Jacobs's team."

You wince at the name of your old field captain. "Yeah, I was. I got reassigned as a solo agent last year." you say bitterly, something not unnoticed by him.

"Shouldn't they have kept you on that team? I saw that Jacobs wasn't there anymore, but just because he got re-assigned it doesn't make sense to just discard an entire recon squad."

You follow after him as he begins walking further down the path, tilting his head to gesture for you to follow.

"Yeah, I mean, Jacobs is dead, so…" you say awkwardly, fiddling with your holster. He turns at that, eyes widening slightly.

"Jacobs is dead?" he parrots back to you, incredulous. "Shit…I'm sorry, I didn't realise. I just knew I hadn't heard of him recently. I didn't realise that Jacobs of all people was really gone."

You nod along, kicking rocks with your boot. "Yeah, surprised everyone." you say softly, thinking of your hard ass captain who managed to weasel his way out of death more times than a cockroach.

"What about the rest of your team? Did they also turn to being a solo agent?" He looks down at you with a curious expression. Your face scrunches up, and he catches the flicker of pain that skirts the edges of your lips.

"They're dead." you say, breaking away from his gaze and quickening your pace.

"I'm sorry." he says gruffly, albeit a little awkwardly. "It happens a lot in this line of work, still doesn't make it any better."

You nod along, heart heavy despite his rough attempt at soothing the sting. You walk a little more, feeling the unsaid question hanging in the air. you know he wants to ask, but the glimmer in his eyes when you catch his gaze tells you that he doesn't want to pry.

"It was my fault, you know." you say softly, sighing out.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, I know we all have-" he starts, but you cut him off by raising your hand.

"It's fine. It's been a year, I'm over it now." you mumble. "Besides, it'll be good to clear the air." you exhale, and your shoulders drop, his eyes holding a curiosity you know he feels guilty for even having. "We received intel about a terrorist attack, tracked them down to their hideout. I was tasked with disarming the bomb remotely while they took down the rest of the organisation so none of them could make a runner." you say, memory vivid in your mind. "They…they managed to re-trace my signal, someone on their side, I mean. Completely shut me off and cut my communication access. I couldn't disarm the bomb, and I couldn't tell my team." you breathe out, and the action is shakier than you'd like. "I watched it happen. I couldn't do anything, and it's all because I accidentally raised an alarm on their side."

He doesn't say much, face blank and devoid of emotion for a full moment. "It wasn't your fault." he says finally, giving you a once over. "Like I said before, we lose people all the time in this job, it’s a part of the job description. A real shitty part if you ask me." he laughs out bitterly, checking his handgun as he comes to a stop at a rickety bridge in front of you. "I'm sorry for your loss, but you need to get back into the field. Not that you have much choice, you're here now. Don't forget them but leave them at the door." He says, a rough hand coming up to grip your shoulder.

His words are like a cold shock of water, slapping you in the face. Everyone else had been coddling you since their deaths, giving you easier assignments and pitying amounts of paperwork. In contrast, Leon was showing you a tough love that everyone else had been hesitant to deliver. He tilts his head to the bridge. "When you cross that bridge, leave them on this side." he says firmly. "Distractions will get us killed, and your team wouldn't want you to die for it, not like that. Besides," he shrugs, offering you a small smile. "I need a partner to get this done, not a space cadet."

The small joke makes a smile creep onto your lips. "Thanks, Agent Kennedy." you say genuinely, lifting your chin just a fraction higher. He shakes his head, soft blonde hair falling in front of his eyes. "No need. and call me Leon." he says, stepping onto the flimsy bridge and beginning to cross. 'Leon' you say under your breath, feeling how his name sounds on your tongue. You take a deep breath, steeling your nerves and saying a quiet prayer for your teammates before your boot makes contact with the flimsy wood.

He was right. You were back in the field, and you weren't going to let any partner or team of yours get hurt like that again. That was your personal mission.

You learnt while going to rescue Ashley that he was a lot different from what the other agents made him out to be. He was considered a knight in shining armour, a golden agent who was unbeatable in everything he did while adding charismatic flair on the top. You soon realised that he was begrudging at best for a knight, and the charisma came out of dry sarcasm and witty quips. he wasn't an agent who did it for crown and country, he was an agent who did it because he had no other choice, and doing the job meant he could get home quicker. You couldn't deny that he was unstoppable though.

No matter what monstrosity you came up against, your new partner didn't so much as flinch, taking each enemy out with lethal precision. His attitude began wearing off on you and slowly you remembered what it was like to be in the field, instincts sharpening and panicked breathing slowing to a steady intake.

"You're not a bad shot," he said to you after you handed back the stingray he let you borrow, taking off some guards on the castle battlements before you had to pass through the area. You felt yourself flush slightly, not from the words, but the genuine tone he used. Despite only just formally meeting, you found conversation flowing easily between you two, natural and unhindered. You had to attribute some of that to your surroundings, seeing as neither of you really had any other choice of company. Not any company that wanted you alive anyways.

Everything had gone well, going a lot smoother than any of your other missions before. You think it started going sideways as soon as you lost Ashley in the ballroom, being forced to scurry in the underground of the castle. The little pet of Ramone had chased you both through the tunnels, the Right Hand of Salazar managing to get a good hit on your side before Leon froze it, albeit temporarily. Hauling your arm over his shoulder he pulled you to the elevator and started it up, leaving the beast behind. He investigated the wound that was now burning and turning black at the edges.

"We need to see if it's infected-"

Both of your wince and reach for your head at the same time, a ringing filling your ears and a throbbing starting in your skull. Then the image of the man, the thing that started all of this, filled your mind’s eye. Saddler preached to both you and Leon, but unfortunately it was like radio static, your connection not strong enough to be controlled fully. When it releases you both let out a gasp, your eyes meeting his blue ones.

"I think it's infected." you say dryly, and he rolls his eyes. However, his lips tick up slightly.

Maybe he really was rubbing off on you.

Then you lost Luis.

Leon patted your shoulder when Luis passed, seeing the crinkle of your nose as you closed his eyes and placed his hands peacefully in his lap. Leon didn't need to ask to see that you were reliving the way you lost your team. So much for not losing anyone this mission,' you scold yourself bitterly, you and Leon moving on and leaving your friend behind to his eternal rest. You didn’t need to ask if he was upset either. you saw it in the way he fought Krauser, muscles tensed and jaw clenched as he took down his old mentor. You placed the hand on the shoulder for him then, and he covered it with his own gloved one before squeezing lightly. He dropped it a moment after, and you both continued.

There was a mission after all.

Now this was the final nail in the coffin. You had retrieved Ashley, keeping her between the both of you to protect her from all sides. Your chest burnt, ugly scar sitting in the middle if your chest from having to burn out the plagas. It had developed quickly, the sliver that wormed it way into your skin during your fight with the Verdigo spawning into an ugly juvenile parasite. Luis had saved the both of you even after death, and you could see the light at the end of the tunnel for this hellscape of a mission. That is of course, until you saw him.

He had been pulling up the rear, but Ashley tugging on your arm made you stop and turn. Leon had slowed, hand to his head and cringing badly. Your heart fills with fear, and you race to him, pulse thudding in your ears. "Hey, you with me, Kennedy?" you ask, shaking him lightly to try to snap him out of it. He only groans in pain, knees buckling as he falls. Crouching immediately, you lift his face up to meet his eyes, and you freeze. Black veins are mapped across the expanse of his face, tendrils trying to strangle the blue of his irises. They continue a path down his neck in thick black streaks, wrapping around his arms like strings. His forearms struggled with the effort to keep himself upright.

"Is he going to be okay?"

You turn, hearing Ashley's worried voice. you give her a tight-lipped smile and a curt nod. "He's going to be." your murmur.

"Come on, Leon." you urge. "we're almost there, we're almost home."

He lets out a shaky breath, coughing violently and hands curling into fists as he doubles over. One of his closed fists grab your hands, bringing it down with him. The cement is cold but his fingers are warm, and when he squeezes your hand tight in a few rhythmic pulses, you know what he's saying.

It makes your heart stop.

"Ashley, go just ahead, around that corner." you instruct, gesturing with your head for her to continue to the end of the hall you were all heading towards.

"What about-"

"Just go." you snap, and the waver in your voice is evident. She nods fearfully, casting one last glance at you both before turning and hurrying off.

"Talk to me, Kennedy." you say, squeezing his hand back. "Do we need to get you back in the chair? Is it still in there?" you ask, trying to keep your voice level but get the information you need out of him. He shakes his head.

"No time." he breathes out, body relaxing as he struggles to sit up and lean back on his legs. With your help you manage to get him upright again, his skin hot and veins writhing under his skin. You support him to standing, but he brushes you off with a stumble.

"He…He's in my head." he grits out. "There's lots…there's noises…sounds. This isn't me." he gasps out, struggling to keep his breathing even.

"What can I do?" you ask, voice tinged with desperateness, hands beginning to shake. "Leon, we got to get you home. We're gonna go home." you stress to him, voice beginning to choke up. He stands tall, straightening himself out. "We don't have much time." he grits through his teeth. "I need you to do something for me."

"Anything." is your automatic response, taking a step forward to catch him if he falls agian. He gives you a sad smile before reaching for something on his belt, eyes never leaving yours as he offers it out to you.

"No." you say firmly, trying hard to control your racing mind and brimming tears. "No. I'm not doing that." you choke out.

"You've gotta." he says, voice quiet. "Take it." he shakes it in front of you and the tears finally drip forth as you look down properly at the smooth handle of the gun. "The mission is to get Ashley out, that's your first priority." he says.

'Not my mission,' you want to say, but your throat closes up. "You mean our first priority." you force out." No. I won't do that. I can't do that. Not again." your voice cracks and you clamp a hand over your mouth to try and keep the sound in. His eyes soften and he reaches out to gently grip your wrist and pull you forward. you can see how badly he's fighting it, the shake in his hands and the tension in his muscles while a war rages in his mind.

"If not for Ashley and the mission, then for me." he forces out. "Please. I don't want to be one of them, and if I turn, I will hurt you. Saddler will make me, and you know that." he says firmly, shaking your wrist. A tear rolls down the tip of your nose as you reach out with your free hand to grip the handle of the gun, grip smooth under your palms.

"I'm not like your team," he says, staring directly into your eyes. You can see the kaleidoscope in his own, morphing from fear to guilt to panic and finally determination. "I want this. I'm asking you to do this for me." He murmurs, tone softer. He sighs out, a ragged sound and his eyes flutter shut as the veins in his neck flare.

"Please," he grits out. "If anyone is going to do it, I want it to be you. Only you." he breathes out, a small smile pulling at his lips. "You're my partner, after all."

You try to give a grin in return, heart leaping and tearing itself apart at being called his partner. You take a step back, hands trembling as you cock the gun. "What a day at the DSO that will be," you say, voice shaky and tears spilling over the apple of your cheeks. "Golden boy Kennedy actually accepting a partner request."

Your smile shakes violently as he lowers himself to his knees, blue eyes looking up at you. The eyes that always seemed so tired, now shimmering with the yearning to go to sleep. To go to peace. "There's a first time for everything." he quips back softly. "You can do the paperwork though."

You try to make the sound to laugh, but the thickness in your chest and throat strangles the sound before it could leave. You raise the gun to his forehead, barrel smooth against his skin, cool metal brushing some of the icy gold strands to the side.

"Goodnight, Leon." you say, voice wispy. Despite the ache that had settled in your chest and stung your bones, you put as much warmth, love and kindness you could into your last words to your coworker. Hoping he can sense the longing and hope for all the missions you could have gone on together, the quiet nights at the bar. You manage a shaky smile for the man in front of you, mourning the memory of your future.

The partner you never got to have.

"See you in the morning." he replies quietly, a small smile flitting over his face as he closes his eyes and lets go. The veins and plagas in his body wriggles in glee for a full moment when he stops resisting, before being silenced by a single, crisp, gunshot.

Bang.

When you open your eyes, you bring your arm to your mouth so you don't throw up in horror, ears still echoing the sound of the shot over and over. Your hand grows limp but still steady on the gun, part of you still in disbelief you had the courage to pull the trigger. You look at the gun in your trembling hand, thumb running over the 'L.S.K' engraved on the grip. You don't cast your eyes down, you can't. You know that if you do, you'll never unsee it as long as you live. Marching on your heel before you make a mistake, you suck in a gasp of air to try and control your sobs.

You grab Ashley's arm roughly as you pass her in the hall, her eyes fearful and panicked. "Hey!" she protests. "What about Leon-"

"Leon's dead." you hiss out, wiping your eyes with your sleeve as she wrenches from your grip. You look down, lips pursed and a hot despair coursing through your veins. With shaky hands you reload the gun, gripping it so tight your knuckles press uncomfortably against the skin.

Leon was dead, and if you had a say in anything, that Saddler fucker was about to be too.

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folkloreiuver · 9 months ago

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one of your girls tonight — felix catton

𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒 — you find yourself falling into felix’s orbit like many have before, but maybe it will be different this time. maybe he’ll want you too.

𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 — felix catton x fem!reader

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 — fluff, swearing, smut ( fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, public sex kinda ), and a little bit of angst

𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 — watched saltburn, lost my mind, still obsessed with jacob elordi. enjoy <3

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you first noticed felix on your first day at university. the late summer sun lilting heavily against a cyan sky, sweat stuck to your skin, clothes clinging uncomfortably as you lugged your suitcase along, hugging quietly.

you wanted nothing more than to drop your bags to the floor, tug your t-shirt off and bathe in the golden glow. you loved the sunlight, the way it felt melting into your skin, warm and buttery. you were so lost in thought that you almost missed the person coming towards you, them letting out a harsh gasp when you almost bumped into them. you looked up, eyes clashing with a pair of ochre brown.

“oh… i’m so sorry,” you say offering an apologetic smile, only for the dark skinned boy to scoff. rolling his eyes and stepping around you, looking at you as though you were nothing more than a piece of gum at the bottom of his shoe.

“watch it,” he spat before storming off, you blanched. completely stunned at the reaction, tilting your head to follow him. watching as he walked over to a group of people, now laughing brightly as though he has never even spoken to you. but your eyes were quickly drawn from him to the boy beside him. he was tall, taller than most, with chestnut hair that fell around his face in waves and a cigarette perched between his lips. he chuckled at something and you felt your heart flutter.

he was without a doubt the most beautiful person you had ever seen.

almost as though feeling your gaze he looked up, eyes flicking to your frozen form, how you gazed at him, eyes glassy and lips parted, the grip you had on the suitcase at your side. shame crawled up your spine and instantly you were looking away. walking deeper into the campus before you had a moment to think about this anymore. about him. you though you heard the laughs behind you increase but you couldn’t be sure as you walked away, cheeks aflame.

you didn’t see felix again for a few weeks, you quickly adjusted to life away from your family, while you still spoke to them on a daily basis, homesickness had quickly settled, replaced by a warm feeling in your gut as you bonded with your housemates. making friends in them and your fellow course mates, you were so consumed by it all you were stunned when you saw felix again. you had forgotten just how good he looked.

he was perched in the library, long legs blocking the section you needed to reach, the other boy you had seen before, farleigh, was sat across from him, lips curling into a frown when he saw your figure appear beside them.

“what?” he all but hissed at you, your heart dropped into your stomach. while you loved your life here at oxford the divide between yourself and more privileged students was immediately clear. a hierarchy that you couldn’t fight and instead just had to find a way to live with. you blinked, a little unsure at how to proceed.

“sorry,” you say, voice softer than you wanted it do be, “i just need to grab a book from here,” you say gesturing at the bookshelf at felix’s feet. the boys head snapped to you, eyebrow piercing glinting in the dim lighting of the library.

“sorry, darling” the brunet drawled with a sweet smile, his legs dropped and you awkwardly shuffled forward, eyes scanning the shelf for the book you were looking for, sighing quietly when you saw it was on a shelf just above head level for you. you glance fell downwards, looking for a stool to grasp but instead coming up empty. you were about to give up and grab a random book rather than embarrass yourself further by grabbing a chair to balance on top off in front of the pair when you suddenly felt a body pressed behind you. heat radiated from his skin, he was so close you could feel every inch of him, goosebumps rose on your arms.

“what do you need?” he murmured, ducking down so that his lips were only inches away from your ear. his voice was so deep, you almost shuddered.

“a road to somewhere,” you told him, watching with unveiled fascination as he reached up, grasping the book for you. you could see the veins in his arms, how large his hands looked compared to the book. you turned to face him, he held the book out and you grasped it, hands brushing. “thanks,” you say, a little breathlessly. he grins, a beautiful heart wrenching smile.

“anytime, pretty girl,” he said, you couldn’t bring yourself to respond, smiling slightly before quickly walking away from the duo and back to your friends who all gazed at you awe struck.

“holy shit!” one of your flat mates gasped as you drew close.

“i know,” was all you could say, “i fucking know.”

the third time you saw felix you were already a bit tipsy, the vodka cranberry you had in your hand making everything a bit brighter. you grinned as you watched your friend flirt with a man at the bar, hand falling from his shoulder to his arm. you sent her a wink before wandering onto the dance floor looking for your other housemates when you bumped into someone, your drink splashed on your chest, slipping between your breasts.

“shit! sorry, darling,” you looked up, seeing felix stood there with wide eyes, his expression melting from horror to a smirk when he saw your face. “oh, hello again, pretty girl,”

“hi,” you said, voice slightly raised over the pounding bass of the club.

“what are you doing here? didn’t think this was your kind of scene,” he commented, he was looming over you, so tall you hardly reached his chest.

“what do you mean, i’m here all the time. but i have never seen you,” you pointed out, a small smirk twisting on your lips, he snickered. stunned at your comment as you took a sip of your drink.

“don’t come here a lot, farleigh hates the music,” he commented with a shrug, “but i might have to come here more,” he was closer now, so close you could smell the cigarette smoke that clung to his skin, the faint scent of vodka and expensive cologne dizzying.

“oh really?” you say, looking up at him with a sparkling smile, “why’s that?”

“well, with a girl like you here how can i resist?” felix questioned, “tell me, pretty girl, would you like that?” you shudder, the action making felix grin, leaning down so his lips brush were brushing against your ear. “tell me, ___”

“how do you know my name?” you ask him, a little breathless, hand reaching out to grasp his arm.

“i’ve been thinking about you since i saw you at the library, so i asked around and they all led me to you,” he said, arms falling down to your hips, grasping them tightly. you let out a little gasp, he was so big, his hands almost engulfing your hips, you felt his fingers slide into the waistband of your skirt.

“oh yea?” you say, and then he was leaning in, for a moment it was a mess of lips and teeth, your cup tumbling from your grasp as your wound your arms around his neck. it was awkward, the height difference straining, but you managed to find a rhythm. your body pressed to his, so close you should feel every inch and curve of his body. feel his strong arms encircling you, the heat of his body, of his mouth. you wanted to drown in it.

when his tongue slid along your bottom lip you parted your lips instantly, you could taste the weed on his mouth and the sweet tinge of smirnoff ice, one of his hands rose to your cheek, holding you tenderly while he kissed you like a man starved. you moaned into the kiss, tugging him closer, hands on his neck, slipping beneath the collar of his shirt. you could feel the firm plains of his shoulder, the thick muscles coiled from where they held you, you needed more. his lips strayed from yours, trailing down your throat, leaving hot open mouthed kisses along your heated flesh.

"fuck, felix," you whined, he chuckled against your neck before biting down harshly, a strangled cry fell from your lips, loud enough that a rosy flush rippled across your skin at the thought of other people noticing. instantly felix was soothing the wound, sucking at it gently, running his tongue along the stinging bite. "i need you," you said, hands coming to his face and twisting it so he was looking down at you. he was grinning widely, skin flushed and lips swollen, a sheen of sweat glistening against his skin making him look ethereal beneath the strobe lights.

"you need me, pretty girl?" he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

"please," you all but begged, and he was laughing again, it was such a beautiful sound it made your gut clench.

"how much?" he whispered in your ear, biting down on your ear lobe.

"so much, so fucking much. been needing you for so long, can't stop thinking about you," you knew how pathetic you sounded, whining for him like a bitch in heat, but you were throbbing for him, panties slick and chest burning, you needed his lips, his fingers, his cock. you needed every little thing he was willing to give you.

"you sound so pretty when you beg for me, darling, i might have to keep you," he said with a sultry smile, "come on, pretty girl," he's tugging you through the crowd before you can say another word, he leads you down past the bar, slipping through the club goers with ease before crowding you into the small corner you had seen multiple people tucked in before but you had never been placed here yourself.

instantly felix's lips were on yours again, his hands fell to your hips, running down your thighs before sweeping you up in one swift motion, you wrapped your legs around his waist, hands catching his shoulders as a startled cry fell from your lips. in this new position your skirt had rose up, your clothed cunt pressed against felix's stomach, you rolled your hips experimentally, moaning when you felt the friction of his abs against your pussy. "oh my god," you hissed, pulling away from his lips to bury your face in his neck, rolling your hips again.

"shit, i wanna fuck you so bad right now ___" felix said, "wanna feel that pretty pussy wrapped around my cock, i bet you are so fucking tight. are you wet for me, pretty girl? i bet you are soaking through your panties," he said.

"why don't you find out," you whispered, felix pressed you further against the wall, one hand staying secured around your waist, the other slipping down between your heated bodies, fingers teasing along the fabric of your panties.

"fuck, darling, you are fucking soaked," he whispered, "so wet just from kissing me, can't imagine how wet i can make you when i have you all spread out for me, gonna play with this pussy for hours," his fingers drifted to the edge of your panties, tugging them to the side, you shivered, you had never felt so exposed in such a public place, but you couldn't pull away. his forefinger gently traced along your slit, making you gasp.

"oh my god," you cried out.

"want more, darling? want me to finger this pretty pussy, make you cum all over my fingers?" he asked and you nodded frantically, eyes locking with his, his pretty brown eyes almost black as he faced you.

"yes, yes, please, felix, i need you inside me, please," you begged, hips twitching against him, trying to press his fingers inside of you but felix tutted.

"now, now, pretty girl, you take what i give you. keep acting like a little slut and i'll leave you here," he hissed, tears stung along your waterline as you frantically shook your head.

"no, i'll be good, i promise, please felix, i need you so bad," you practically sobbed, he smirked, now dragging two fingers along your cunt, gently at first before finally plunging his fingers inside of you, you moaned loudly, tears spilling down your cheeks, he pumped rhythmically, two fingers buried in your pussy, his thumb coming up to tease your clit. you couldn't stop the sounds pouring from your lips so felix quickly latched his lips to yours. the kiss was messy, you were caught between playing with his tongue and moaning at the stimulation.

he began to jerk his fingers quicker, pumping into you with such force that it had your toes curling, his thumb pressing against your clit sending delicious waves of pleasure along your spine.

"you're gonna make me cum," you whispered, pulling back from his lips just slightly.

"that's the plan, darling," he said, beginning to swirl his finger around your clit, the excitement of being in public, the feeling of felix against you, his fingers buried inside of you, you could feel the tension building inside of you. it was insane, his body crowding against you, his lips leaving hot wet marks along your jawline and neck, his fingers pumping so deep inside you it was making you squirm. you had never felt a rush to come so quickly in your life.

“fuck,” you gasped as felix twisted his fingers curling against your g spot, your body was on fire, a swell of heat rising from your gut and spilling across your entire body, you jerked, spasming as your orgasm consumed you. “felix,” you squealed as came all over his fingers, collapsing against him, heavy breaths falling for your lips.

“fucking gorgeous,” felix whispered against your neck before removing his fingers from your cunt and gently setting you down and tugging your dress into place, you looked up at him with glassy eyes.

“i want…” you leant forward hands clutching at the waistband of his jeans but felix shook his head.

“it’s okay, ___, i would never let a pretty girl get on her knees for me in a place like this,” he told you, planting a kiss on your forehead. you shivered, despite the orgasm you had just had you were still desperate for more, you wanted all of him.

“holy shit, there you are! i’ve been looking for you everywhere,” your friend suddenly shouted as she rushed to your side, you looked over at her stunned. “come on we gotta go, that guy was a creep i just wanna go to bed,” you nodded immediately not wanting your friend to be uncomfortable.

“yea, of course.” you said before turning back to face felix who grinned at you, leaning down to plant a dirty kiss on your lips.

“see you soon, pretty girl,” he said with a wink, you sent him a small smile before leaving the club with your friend, you really fucking hoped you would see him soon.

#Spotify #felix catton #felix catton x reader #saltburn #oliver quick #oliver quick x reader #jacob elordi

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kat-thepoet · 3 months ago

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Veins of Violet

Logan Howlett X Female Reader

Part 1: A grumpy Canadian enters

A/N: Hello guys! This is a Logan x Female reader story. So please enjoy!

Description: Violet, on the run from a dark past, finds herself stuck with Logan as her roommate, with her unpredictable best friend Wade by her side. As she navigates the chaos of her new life, she must choose between a love that could save her and a darkness that could consume her.

3.6k words

"Have you thought about what I told you?" I asked Vanessa as I sat across from her at our local coffee shop.

"Yes, and I think I'm ready to talk to him about us." she says with a soft smile.

A few weeks ago, before Wade unexpectedly left on his birthday party, I told Vannesa that she should get back together with him. They are such a cute couple, and Vanessa deserves to be with the person she loves, even though he's a total dickwad. I have known Wade for about six years when I auditioned for his superhero team. Or whatever you can call a group of morons who all collectively came together to save a chubby kid from being killed by a time travel freak with a medal arm. Regardless of mine and Wade's differences, like who is better, Edward or Jacob, or if pineapple belongs on pizza (it doesn't), he is still considered one of my best friends, along with Vanessa, whom I love dearly like a sister.

As I come back from my daydreaming, Vanessa gives me a slight grin and proceeds to ask her annoying question.

"So... now that Wade and I are possibly getting back together, why have you been avoiding the dating pool? I mean, I love you, but I don't want to see you die alone or possibly be forced to marry someone just to settle down. I want you to find someone who you can pour your heart into, like I do with Wade."

I look at her with annoyance and roll my eyes at her dramatic statement. After my last cheating boyfriend Adam who fucked my roommate by the way in my apartment, I've never found someone who truly moved me and made me feel special. I have gone on dates alone and even double dates with Nessa and Wade, but I have never felt something inside of me that truly made me desire them. When Vanessa talks about her and Wade's love lives and even their sex lives, she makes it sound like it's filled with passion and thrill, and I haven't experienced that with anyone yet. And I'm not even sure I ever will.

"We've talked about this, Vanessa. I haven't found anyone interesting, and I'm not going to force it by going to some lame bar and picking up the first person who shows interest." She laughs at my statement but doesn't say anything in response.

As we walked back to our building, we saw Wade with a dog who looked strangly like him, and along with him was a man with a very nice build and he was really handsome. As Wade spotted Vanessa walking down the street with me, he quickly let his dog sit on the ground and sprinted over to her, arms wide open.

"Vanessa! My love, my light, my everything! You look stunning as ever. It's like seeing the sun come up after a night of binge-watching questionable rom-coms. How about we skip all this mundane reality stuff and dive straight into a romantic montage? I've missed you more than tacos on a Tuesday!"

She pushes her off him. "Where the hell have you been? You left the party without even saying anything, and you expect me to be happy to see you?!" She says it angerfully.

I laugh, and he turns to me. "Well, well, if it isn't my favorite partner in crime," he said, giving me a playful nudge. "Looking fabulous as always. I swear, every time I see you, it's like someone cranked up the glam dial to eleven." He says with a sly smile.

I roll my eyes and, angrly, ask him the same question. "No, Wade, where the hell have you been? I called 20 times, and not one single call was returned!" I quickly glanced at his friend, and he was already staring at me. I quickly looked back at Wade, waiting for a response.

Wade raised his hands in mock surrender, a sheepish grin on his face.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there, tiger! I knew I should've upgraded my phone plan to include 'dealing with angry best friends' insurance. But in my defense, I was, uh... busy saving the world? Or maybe I got distracted by a marathon of cat videos. They're surprisingly addictive, you know!"

He glanced at his friend, who was still watching the exchange with interest, and then turned back to me with a wink.

"But seriously, I'm sorry for ghosting you two. I'll explain everything later, but for now, I need to kiss my girl."

He looked at Vanessa, and she stopped him, putting her hand on his mouth. "I'm not your girl; we still have a lot to talk about, Wade."

Wade paused, eyes wide with mock horror. He slowly removed her hand, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk.

"Oh, come on, Vanessa! You know, I can't resist kissing my favorite girl, even if I have to work a little harder for it. But I get it, I get it—relationship talk first, smooches later. Consider me on my best behavior. We can talk about anything and everything you want—whether it's why I've been MIA or what I'm planning for our next adventure."

As he looks at his friend, he slaps his own forehead.

"I almost forgot, ladies, feast your eyes on the one, the only, the eternally grumpy Canadian himself—Wolverine! Or, as I like to call him, Logan, he is the sharpest guy I know. And no, that's not just a reference to his claws." He nudged Wolverine with his elbow, grinning.

"This is the guy who puts the 'X' in 'X-Men' and the 'grr' in 'gruff.' When he's not busy saving the world or scowling, he's perfecting his signature brooding look and cutting sarcasm. You might say he's the best there is at what he does, and what he does is... make me look even more sexy by comparison." Wade turned to Vanessa and I with a wink.

"Don't worry; he's not as intimidating as he seems. Just give him a beer, and he'll be your best friend—or at least tolerate you with only minimal growling. Logan, meet Vanessa, my stunning muse, and Violet, my partner in crime. Try not to scare them off with your rugged charm, alright?" Logan just rolls his eyes at his stupid introduction.

Vanessa extends her arm to shake his hand, and he hesitates for a moment but shakes it with a firm grip. "Nice to meet you, Logan." She says with a smile. Logan responds with a sarcastic tone, "Yeah, you too."

I extend my hand to do the same, and he takes it, but my hand lingers in his for a moment before he quickly pulls away. It's nice to meet you, Logan. Knowing the mouth that Wade has on him, you must have dealt with a few suicidal thoughts." I ask, trying to lighten the mood.

He smirks at my question and says , "Yeah, you could say that."

Wade clapped his hands together with an exaggerated gasp, clearly delighted by the interaction.

"Oh, I see what's happening here! Bonding over my endless ability to drive people nuts! Classic move, Vi." he said with a playful grin.

He waggled his eyebrows at Wolverine. "See, Logan? I told you my best friend's got a wicked sense of humor. We could start a support group for people who've survived my witty repartee. 'Deadpool's Survivors Club.' Meetings every Tuesday—blizzard dust and therapy provided."

Vanessa and I laughed at his comment, and we all headed back to his place.

Before I went to wades place I departed from the group and went into my apartment that was two doors over from his. I decided to get comfortable and take my working clothes off that had dirt on them from washing flowers.

I work at a flower shop that's about two blocks from here. I started working there about two years ago. The pay is great; I can pay my bills and treat myself once in a while. but I also live comfortingly because of my grandparents trust fund. My grandparents took care of me until I was 19 years old. They were doctors and were very successful. My parents died in a car crash when I was five. I don't really remember anything from that time. I guess my brain blocked all that trauma out. But regardless, I still ended up being experimented on by these mad scientists with some glowy gems. That's what granted me my abilities. And they used me to kill people. I try to forget at times, but now, ten years later, I'm here, surrounded by family who I adore.

I decided to change into a red tank top and grey sweatpants with my black and white Converse. By the look of the clouds, it looks like it's going to start to rain. I brush my hair and add a little makeup to clean myself up a bit. I finish up with a vanilla mist that Vanessa got me for my birthday, and I head out the door.

I knock on Wade's door, and through the door I hear muffling sounds and loud music. Nobody answers, so I open the door myself. The room is filled with some X-force members, along with Tin Man. Ellie and their adorable girl friend are singing kareoke. On the other side of the room in the kitchen, I see blind Al sniffing a line, Vanessa and Wade making out, and other junkies eating and drinking food. How did this escalate so quickly? I was only gone for 30 minutes. As I scanned the room to find a spot to sit, I saw Logan on the couch with a beer in his hand, watching Beyonce and Ariana horribly sing. There's a seat next to his, so I decided to sit next to him.

"Are you enjoying the party?" I asked with a smile.

Logan glanced at you, his expression flat.

"It's something, all right," he grumbled, taking another sip of his beer. "At least the beer's cold."

He shook his head slightly, watching the chaos unfold with a weary look.

"I've seen worse," he added with a shrug.

Logan leaned back, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "You here to rescue me, or just enjoying the show?"

I pressed my lips together. He's not one to have a conversation with because he's so moody, and I'm determined to find out why, but I'll just play along with his nonchalant attitude for now.

"Just enjoying the show," I replied with a smirk. Logan's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't press further, turning his attention back to the chaos around us.

"Are you going to drink something?" he asked in a low voice.

"There's nothing here that doesn't destroy your liver." I said it with a tight smile.

"You don't drink?" he asked curiously.

"No." I said firmly, trying to keep the conversation light. "I prefer to keep a clear head in situations like this." Logan nodded, seemingly satisfied with my response, and we continued to watch the chaos unfold around us in silence.

"So, how did you meet Wade?" I asked curiously.

Logan took a moment, swirling his beer thoughtfully before answering.

"Well, it wasn't exactly a fairy tale," he replied with a wry smile. "Wade showed up out of nowhere, talking about timelines and some TVA nonsense. I thought he was just some weird fuck who wanted to mess with me."

He sighed, shaking his head at the memory.

"But then there was this whole thing with Cassandra threatening the timeline. I guess we ended up being unlikely allies. Not my first choice, but he's persistent."

Logan glanced at you, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Wade's like a bad rash; he just keeps coming back until you deal with him. At least this time, we managed to save the day and avoid a multiverse meltdown."

He shrugged, taking another sip of his beer. "You could say it was... educational."

I looked at him confused because, honestly, I did not understand any word that he said. He saw my expression puzzled but didn't focus too much on it.

"How did you meet a fucker like Wade?" he asked.

"It's a long story, but I've known him for about 6 years, and I met him when I auditioned for the X Force."

"Wait, you auditioned for the X Force? Why? " He looked at me strangely.

"Well, I have abilities of my own, and I wanted to use them for good." I said with a dry smile.

Logan nodded, processing your answer with a gruff expression.

"Abilities, huh?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Wade's got a knack for attracting people like us. But an audition? That sounds like something only Wade would come up with."

Logan leaned back, giving you a more appraising look. "So, what can you do? And how've you survived six years with Wade without losing your mind?"

We talked about Wade and how fucked up in the head he was. Until I saw the time. It read 11:50.

"Oh, shoot, I have to get going. I have work in the morning." I said as I quickly stood up.

I quickly turned around and waved everyone good bye. As I headed for the door, Wade trotted after me with a mischievous grin on his face.

"Hey, wait up!" he called, catching up to me just as I stepped outside. "Before you disappear into the responsible adult dimension, I've got a burning question."

He leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice with mock seriousness. "So, does your annoying roommate still haunt your apartment, or have you finally exorcised that particular demon? I mean, I can't be the only one who thinks she's a walking buzzkill, right?"

I laughed at his remark about my ex roommate. I crossed my arms at his question.

"Why?" I said with a stern face.

Wade put on his best innocent face, which was hard to take seriously with the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Oh, no reason," he said, feigning nonchalance as he rocked back on his heels. "It's just that I have this furry, brooding friend who might be in the market for a new place to crash."

He leaned in closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "You see, Logan here has this whole 'lone wolf' vibe going on, but I think deep down, he's just a cuddly, oversized teddy bear in need of a cozy new den."

Wade wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Plus, think about it: free security, and you'll never have to worry about running out of beer. And if you two ever get into an argument, he's got that healing factor, so no worries about broken bones or anything."

He flashed a grin, clearly enjoying himself. "So, what do you say? Got room for one more grumpy Canadian in your life?"

I looked at him, trying to see if this would be a good idea. He gave me puppy eyes, and I responded by rolling my eyes back. "Is he messy?" I asked, annoyed.

"I don't think so; let me ask." He quickly turned around and started skipping to his door. Before I could say anything, he brought out Logan. In the dim light of the hallway, I could see through his white beater tank top, which revealed his muscular physique. It made my mouth salivate. Why am I thinking this way?

I look at Wade, and he looks at Logan. " Are you messy?"

Logan crossed his arms, giving Wade a skeptical look before turning his attention to you.

"Messy?" he grunted, his voice gravelly. "Not really. I keep to myself and clean up after I eat.

Logan glanced at Wade, then back at you, with a hint of a smirk. "But if you're expecting a neat freak, you might want to look elsewhere. I'm not exactly Martha Stewart."

He paused for a moment, reading your expression, and added, "And don't worry, I don't bite. Much."

I rolled my eyes at his comment. He's clearly drunk, but I trust he's just trying to make a joke. Plus, his honesty about his habits is refreshing in a roommate.

"Fine." I said with a thin smile.

Wade's eyes lit up with excitement as soon as I said "fine."

"Score one for Team Wolverine!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air like he'd just won a championship. "You won't regret it! Well, maybe a little, but hey, what's life without some excitement, right?"

He clapped Logan on the back with a playful grin. "Welcome to your new home, bub! Remember, no claw marks on the good furniture, and try to keep the late-night growling to a minimum unless you want Violet to reconsider."

Wade turned back to you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You've got yourself a real-life superhero as a roommate! Not everyone can say that. Just don't let him hog the remote on movie night—or the weed stash."

He gave you a thumbs up, clearly pleased with the outcome. "So, when's the housewarming party? I'll bring the chimichangas and some earplugs for those late-night howls, or we can do a threesome, whichever you prefer."

I rolled my eyes in annoyance.

I drew my attention to Logan before I spoke. "Go get your stuff so you can settle in." I said this as I turned to unlock my door. Wade kissed me on the cheek and walked with Logan back to his apartment.

I turned on the light from the spare room and thanked God that I cleaned it the second that whore Sara moved out because it was a mess. Luckily, the bed had fresh sheets, and it smelled clean. I heard a firm knock on the door.

That must be Logan.

I opened the door and saw Adam drunk and crying.

"Adam, what the hell are you doing here?" Adam, my cheating ex-boyfriend that I mentioned before, was here begging me to take him back and to forgive him for fucking my roommate on my new couch.

I crotched down to his level and said, "I'm never going to fucking forgive you for what you did to me. We were fucking engaged, but you chose to fuck another girl. Not a random girl, my fucking roommate, who I considered my closest friend. You know how I feel about lies and betrayals." I said with tears forming in my eyes. I know that he used and hurt me, but I can't help but feel heartbroken, even though this happened two months ago. He started to come closer until I tripped back on my ass. I landed on the floor, and he was on top of me. "Get off of me!" I said angrly. As I squirmed under him, I felt my eyes glow, and my powers wanted to come out and play, but I held the urge as I was fighting him off. All of a sudden, I hear loud footsteps coming towards us. Logan comes out of nowhere and grabs him by the collar. He yanks him onto the floor. My eyes are still closed as I try to control my outburst. I hear Logan yell at him, to never set foot here again, and Adam runs off.

As I control my breathing, Logan comes next to me and leans in. "It's ok, he's gone." He said in a low voice. I feel better for some reason now that he's by my side. I thank him still, with my eyes closed. I stand up and open my eyes to see him staring into mine. I blink the tears away and grab a glass of water.

"Who was that punk?" he asks, his voice laced with concern. I take a deep breath before responding, "My ex-boyfriend." I said calmly.

He doesn't say anything. I stand still until I finish my cup of water.

"Ok, sorry about that. Let's start with the tour. I have to get up early tomorrow. " I said with a soft smile. He nodded and proceeded with the living room.

As I gave the tour, he stared very intently at everything. How the laundry machines worked and where stuff was located in the kitchen. And I offered him a glass of water. After I gave a tour of everything but the bedrooms, he jugged the glass of water, and I stared intensely. The way his Adam's apple would bob from the gulp and the water droplets rolling down on his throat onto his hairy chest. He's so handsome and muscular. The way his dark blue jeans hug his thighs and how tight his pants are around the crotch area makes me feel parched. I quickly composed myself before he noticed I was staring too hard. Oh, he noticed

I opened my bedroom to let him take a peek. "Here's my bedroom, so if you need anything, just knock on the door. Next to mine is yours." I opened the bedroom door, and it was simple not girly or masculine, just normal. He shook his head in greatfulness. "Thank you for letting me stay here. It means a lot." I smiled at him as a response.

"I left you some things on your bed that you might need, but if you don't have any questions, then this is it." I smiled once more and walked into my room.

He walked into his, and we both closed our doors. I quickly put on my pijamas, which were a pair of short shorts and a small tank top. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. As I walked back to my room, I heard a knock on my door. It was him asking if he could borrow a toothbrush. I thought I gave him one, but I must have forgotten. I walked over to the restroom, and he followed. I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn't pay too much attention. I leaned down to grab a new toothbrush from under the sink, forgetting that my ass was full on display for him to see. I gave him the brush and said good night.

"Goodnight," he said back in a nicer tone.

Next part: Part 2: Of claws and heart

#deadpool and wolverine #wolverine #logan howlett #deadpool #wade wilson #fanfic #marvel #x men #logan howlett x reader

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janeyseymour · 5 months ago

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chosen family

summary: jacob hill has always been like something of a son to Melissa Schemmenti. You, Melissa's partner, make him realize that.

WC: ~3.3k

Melissa Schemmenti has always been drawn to people who could not be further from herself. It’s always been that way for her.

You are not the exception. You couldn’t be more different than the fiery redheaded teacher. Just like everyone else to work there that she is close with, you couldn’t be more different. You’ve picked up on this pattern. You’ve also picked up on other things concerning your new colleagues.

Barbara Howard is a perfect example of being entirely different from Melissa Schemmenti- her work wife, her platonic soulmate until the end of time. The first day, you were made very aware that Melissa Schemmenti and Barbara Howard were something of work wives and platonic soulmates. While yes, they both attend church every Sunday, the kindergarten teacher is much more devout. Barbara Howard is a rule follower, where Melissa bends the rules in ways nobody ever thought possible. While Barbara Howard is often steady and stable, Melissa Schemmenti could light someone’s car on fire over something as trivial as picking up the wrong pasta sauce on the way home.

Janine Teagues, someone who radiates sunshine and positivity, is somewhat of a daughter or a niece to the redhead. The same goes for Gregory- he’s like a son or nephew, in an odd way. You’ve learned that one thing to be aware of is that Janine is never stopping- she’s always going to the point of exhaustion and usually ends up creating a bigger mess than the one she was trying to clean up in the first place. You’ve learned that her and Gregory are dating; but apparently they’ve only officially been dating for a few months now. Before then, they’ve been the ‘will they, won’t they’ talk of the staff room.

Mr. Johnson has such a free spirit that it irritates Melissa at times. But they see eye to eye when it comes to important things in life- like how they would survive on a desert island or a zombie apocalypse. The two have a friendship that confuses both of them. He is there for fun, despite having a crucial part in the school.

Ava Coleman, at one point an enigma to the teacher, has a special spot in Melissa’s heart. At first, it was hatred. And then it was something of a kinship. Ava Coleman may not be conventional by any means, but it worked. Melissa found that she quite liked the zest and interesting takes that the principal held with her. It took time, but they found a rhythm, and that rhythm has since been perfected. Ava Coleman, much like the custodian, wants all fun and no work.

And that left Jacob Hill. Jacob hill, a soft and at times skittish gay man that Melissa couldn’t stand when he first was employed by the city of Philadelphia. But now? Now they’re like two peas in a pod. They’re quite the unconventional pair- a very soft and somewhat skittish gay man and a tough, mob-like redhead. But they seem to work. They seem to work far better than anyone had expected, including the two living together. And the last thing that you’ve come to understand about the young man is that Jacob Hill is something of a son to the fiery second grade teacher. When you first started working here, you actually did think that Jacob was her son- that was quickly laughed off by Janine and she told you the truth of the matter.

And since you’ve worked at Abbott, you’ve become quite close with the second grade teacher. You’re actually dating her now. It’s something that you’re still having a hard time grappling with. How could someone as beautiful and as… Melissa, as she is end up with someone like you?

But it seems to work out. The green eyed woman seems to be drawn to people who could not be further from her.

Jacob has quickly become a staple at the apartment that the two of you now share, him moving out a few months ago- it makes sense in all actuality. He and Melissa are quite close, and in turn the two of you are closer now as well.

You see how happy it makes your girlfriend to have the always grinning, and yet somehow still always subtly cynical, man around. You see it when she’s able to make him a plate of dinner, share lunch portions with him, when she’s able to give him advice (in teaching or other), when he’s settling on the couch with the two of you to watch what they know refer to as ‘their’ show. Melissa mothers him more than she mothers Janine, leaving that job to her platonic work wife. It’s a sweet little relationship that the two of them hold very dear to their hearts.

You’re about to enter the staff room when you hear the two of them chatting quietly over their lunches.

“You’re still coming over tonight to watch, right?” you hear your girlfriend ask.

You can hear Jacob scoff. “Of course I am. Where else would I be?”

“I figured now that you’re seeing Ravi a bit more seriously, maybe you would want to-”

“Mel Mel, no,” you hear the middle grades teacher laugh. You can practically see him rolling his eyes. “Why would I want to be anywhere else?”

You see this as a good time to enter the room, taking your seat next to the redhead. You peck her cheek delicately before diving into your leftovers from last nights Schemmenti family dinner.

“Jake’s coming over for dinner tonight, that okay?” Green eyes look into yours for any sort of hesitation from you.

“He knows he’s always welcome to come over.”

So that’s how you spend that night. You’re in the recliner reading your book while Jacob and Melissa veg out on the couch with their popcorn and sour cream and onion flavoring. They each have a glass of wine, and they’re deep into conversation about who is slighting who and why. It makes you chuckle as you half listen to their conversation, half read about the drama that is happening in your book.

“What are you reading?” Jacob asks. Only then do you look up from your book and realize that your girlfriend is nowhere to be seen.

You show him the cover before asking, “Where’d Mel go?”

“Bathroom,” he tells you. “Then we’re going to watch a movie since our show is over… she thought it might be a nice way to wind down, and who am I to deny that?”

“You’re such a good son to her, you know,” you say casually as you return your attention back to your book. You flip the page.

Jacob is left searching for words. “She’s not my mother.”

“No, but you’re still the best son she has,” you shrug and reach over to pop a piece of popcorn in your mouth.

He goes to say more, but Melissa returns, reaching for the blanket that is draped over the edge of the couch. She lays it across the two of them before reaching for the remote to turn on whatever movie the two of them will be watching. Jacob swears he sees a smirk dancing across your lips. And he’s right- you are smirking. Because now you know he’s thinking about what you said.

He supposes he sees it- the way that Melissa mothers him. If he’s being honest with himself, his own mother doesn’t even treat him like this anymore. It’s… nice to have someone care for him like that.

That night ends in Melissa sending Jacob off to his house with a Tupperware container full of Braciole and a “Text me when you’re home and safe in your apartment!”

As time goes on, your words linger in Jacob’s head. He’s like the son Melissa never had. And that is oddly okay with him- he like’s being the best son that your girlfriend has.

And when he and Ravi end with a messy breakup, your girlfriend is the first person he calls. He doesn’t call Janine, he doesn’t call Gregory, he doesn’t even call his own mother. No. The first person that crosses his mind as he leaves Ravi’s apartment for the last time is Melissa.

It’s late, and logically he knows that she probably isn’t awake and hasn’t been for hours. But he wants some maternal love and dials anyway.

You and your girlfriend are curled up in bed- her asleep, and you on the verge of sleep- when her phone rings to life.

“Who the fuck is calling at…” she blinks her eyes awake and glances at the clock. “1:30 in the morning?”

“Just let it go,” you sigh softly.

She reaches for her phone, and when you expect her to set it back down and pull you into her arms again, she doesn’t. Instead, her voice sounds concerned.

“Jacob?” is the only thing that she says into the phone.

You can hear his labored breaths. He doesn’t speak.

“Jake,” your girlfriend sighs. “Jacob, what’s going on? It’s 1:30 in the morning.”

“I- I know,” he chokes out. “But I- Ravi and I just broke up, and I didn’t know who else to call.”

“Oh,” Melissa’s face absolutely drops. She knows how much the social studies teacher liked the firefighter.

“I- I’m sorry,” he says pathetically into the phone. “I- I don’t even know why I called. Get back to-”

The redhead clears her throat, trying to get any of the remaining sleep out of her voice before she speaks again. “We’re still up. Come over.”

“It’s okay,” the distraught man sighs into the phone. “I can just…”

“Jacob, your ass better be here within the next thirty minutes,” Melissa tells him sternly. “You called me, you clearly don’t want to be alone, we were already up, so just come over.”

And that’s how you end up curled up next to your girlfriend, a glass of white wine in hand while Melissa sits in her spot, two glasses of red wine poured out for when her work son arrives.

“Babe, when he gets here though-”

“When he gets here, I’m moving to my recliner so you can mother him,” you roll your eyes as you yawn. “I don’t even know why I have to be here when he comes in.”

“Because I told him we were both up, and I don’t want him to think that we got out of bed for him,” Melissa tells you.

You smile at her softly as you rest your head on her shoulder. “You’re a good mother to him.”

“He’s not my son,” she chuckles.

“No, I know,” you sigh. “But he might as well be at this point. He called you, not his own mother.”

That thought makes her quirk her head to the side, thinking on this sentiment. She doesn’t have much time though, because Jacob is at the door knocking softly. You pick your head up and stand with her. While Melissa makes her way to the door, you take up the space in your recliner and curl up under the blanket, immediately reaching for the television remote.

You hear his sniffles as he comes in. He kicks off his shoes, and your girlfriend ushers him to the couch. She hands him the wine and wraps her arms around him. All Jacob can do is cry.

The redhead hushes her coworker gently, promising him that everything will be okay. And Jacob believes that- because if Melissa is saying it, it has to be true.

That night ends with him falling asleep on your girlfriend’s shoulder, and Melissa lays him down on the couch when the two of you finally decide to retire back to bed. She pulls the afghan from the back of the couch and gently drapes it over his body before running the tip of her index finger over his cheek.

“You’ll be alright, hun,” she whispers to him. Then she turns back to you and takes your hand.

As the two of you are curling up in bed for the second time that night, you hum, “You really would make a wonderful mother.”

When the time comes that you finally (according to Jacob and Janine) think about getting engaged and married to Melissa, Jacob could not want to be in on it more. He helps you find the perfect ring, he helps you plan it all, and he even insists on hiding out in the shadows in order to capture the event.

“Trying to make your mom happy?” you tease him.

He rolls his eyes with a smirk on his face. “She’s not my mother, but… Melissa being happy is all all of us want.”

When you do end up proposing to her, you expect Barbara to be the first person that your girlfriend flies into the arms of. Instead, it’s Jacob. Barbara, of course, is second. But Jacob seems absolutely ecstatic, telling the redhead that he helped with almost every aspect of the proposal. Melissa tells him that she couldn’t have wished for it to be anything else, and that she was very proud of him. Jacob blushes profusely, and it reminds all three of you just how close your Abbott family really is.

As wedding plans come along, Jacob is there for all of it. It’s a sweet thing. He looks like a kid in the candy store as Melissa, Barbara, and he look for the perfect outfit to get married in. Barbara is of course Melissa’s matron of honor, and Jacob is just happy to be there. He has no idea that at this appointment, Melissa is also going to be having him try on suits to match the bridal party.

“So,” Jacob leans forward with excitement. “What colors are you planning on doing for the bridal parties?!”

“Y/N and I decided that a nice salmony pink color might be good,” Melissa says with a twinkle in her eye. “So… you better start looking at ties and suits, mister.”

Barbara, who knew that her best friend was going to reveal this bit of information, grins. Meanwhile, Jacob’s jaw absolutely drops. He’s astounded.

“What? Why would I have to find a tie for-”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t have you in my wedding party?” the redhead rolls her eyes as she opens up her arms. “You’re as close to a son as I’m going to get as of right now. Of course you’re in the wedding.”

Tears begin to pour over the younger man’s face as he fully tackles his work mother in a hug. “Oh my god.”

“I don’t know,” he chuckles through his tears. “I just thought that I was here to-”

“To help me pick out my outfit, but also to help figure out the perfect color that you’ll be wearing and to get fitted for a suit, if you want,” Melissa tells him.

Barbara passes out three glasses of champagne in celebration.

When your wedding day finally comes, you’re standing up at the altar in your own suit as you await the moment that Melissa will be walked down the aisle by none other than Mr. Johnson (he was elated when your fiancee explained to him that he was something of a father figure to him).

The ceremony is beautiful- perfect even. Everybody laughs, everybody sheds tears, everybody is just thrilled at the fact that the two of you are tying the knot.

The reception is a thrill. Both you and Melissa make small toasts, a few others speak, and then it’s time for dancing.

You have your first dance with your wife (good God, you can call her your wife now!), she dances with Mr. Johnson, you dance with your own father, and then… Melissa makes her way up to the microphone.

“Hey youse guys,” Melissa chuckles nervously. “I know everyone else wants to get to dancing, but there is one more special person that I’d like to dance with… if he’ll make his way up.”

Nobody stands, but your wife’s green eyes are trained on Jacob.

“Me?” he gasps. At Melissa’s nod, he stands hesitantly before making his way over.

“Of course.” You see that those green eyes start to turn a little glassy, and she takes a deep breath to steady herself. “For those of you that don’t know… this is Jacob Hill- grade A pain in my ass turned something like a son to me.”

The two dance to a beautiful song written by Elton John, “Chosen Family”. By the end of it, there are no dry eyes in the audience. It’s a song that feels like it was written for them.

And then the night is off, everyone is dancing, and you’re just relishing in this beautiful moment that you have in your hands.

Jacob is dancing near the two of you when you decide to make your way over.

“Hey,” you check him with your hip gently. “Welcome to the family.”

The man smiles at you from ear to ear.

“You’re such a good son to her,” you compliment softly as you envelope him in a hug.

He just chuckles in your ear. “I know. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have her in my life.” Then his jaw drops. “Oh my god. Does this mean you’re like a weird sort of step-mom to me now?!”

As time goes on, you and your wife decide to try to expand the family. And somehow, by some grace of God (Melissa would tell you that it’s because Barbara prayed over you two night after night), you end up pregnant after the first treatment.

If you thought Jacob was a part of your household before, he’s only over more now. He’s constantly bringing over baby clothes and toys, helping Melissa to assemble the crib and the rocking chair as well as installing carseats into both of your cars, he’s bringing over remedies to help you with morning sickness and then creams and other things to help you feel the most comfortable that you can be during this pregnancy.

When you go into labor, he’s the first one Melissa calls, and then she calls Barbara.

You deliver a son, a beautiful baby boy. He’s perfect. And he has an even more perfect name.

“Go get Jake,” you tell your wife gently as you continue to cradle your son to your chest. “He deserves to meet his godson, and lord knows that boy has been sitting in the waiting room since he got your call.”

Melissa just chuckles as she stands from her place on your bed, kisses you softly, strokes the boy’s cheek, and then heads out.

She brings back both Barbara and Jacob, who immediately squeal upon seeing you as a mother for the first time. While Jacob fully thinks that you’ll hand the baby to your wife’s work-wife first, you actually hand the baby to him. He looks at this baby like he’s never seen anything more perfect.

“Do we have a name?” Barbara asks.

You smile at the man holding your newborn. “We do.”

“And it is?” Barbara prompts.

“Mel, do you want to tell him what his godson’s name is?” you prompt.

Jacob’s eyes go wide, and his jaw drops. “G-godson?”

“Godson,” you confirm, tears in your own eyes. You wipe at them gently as you lay back in the hospital bed.

“His name is,” Melissa chuckles through tears of her own as she makes her way over to the pair. “Milo Jacob Schemmenti… Milo meaning beloved, and Jacob, after you.”

“After… after me?” Jacob’s voice goes high as his eyes fill with even more tears. He holds the baby even closer to him, if that’s possible.

“Of course,” your wife smiles as she wraps a proud arm around him. “And if Milo turns out half as good as my first son, that kid is going to be set for life.”

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo

#abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #jacob hill

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happy74827 · 5 months ago

Text

Fate’s Design

[Carlisle Cullen x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Not even fate can stop forbidden love. {GIF Credits: Pinterest}

WC: 2051

Category: Angst (with a side of fluff)

Can you tell I rewatched Twilight? 👀 Edward? Jacob? Nah, I’m team Carlisle all the way.

In all seriousness, this took me so long to write out since I’m in that stage of life where there’s no free time 😭

But, regardless, here’s a fic that no one asked for (and hopefully won’t mind 👀). So, uh… enjoy :)

『••✎••』

Funny, how the world works, how fate works.

The day you had first laid eyes on him, you could tell immediately there was something different about him, something... strange. Stranger than strange.

A simple hospital visit, a clumsy fall down the stairs, and here you were, stuck in a place of healing with the smell of antiseptics and disinfectant all around you. For a simple wrist sprang, being around deathly ill people who had no sense of common courtesy was the last thing you wanted to experience.

Still, it couldn't be helped, and so you endured. Endured until that one fateful encounter.

When the nurses brought him into the room, you couldn't help but stare. A young, handsome man who looked barely a few years older than you, pale, cold skin that reminded you of the snowy tundras, and bright eyes you swore turned gold in the light.

Strange, yes. Very strange. But a very good kind of strange, the kind of strange that was captivating.

Carlisle Cullen.

You couldn't help but smile as you thought of the name, as the memories came back to you. The first meeting, the second, and then the third. You remembered all of them, every single one, and the way your heart fluttered like a caged bird each time, wanting to break free.

How long had it been since that first meeting? Five months? Six?

You couldn't be sure, but it was enough.

Enough for you to know that you loved him.

How funny, how ironic, how cruel fate was, giving you someone to love and then making it impossible to be with him.

You were just an average girl with average interests and average talents who had a boring, average job that didn't pay much and was living an average life.

But you were human; he was not.

You were a creature that could live, grow, age, and eventually die while he was frozen in time, a beautiful, timeless statue with an old soul that lived a hundred years in the span of one.

You knew this, he knew this, and that was what held you both back.

Even though you loved him, even though when he looked at you, his eyes burned with the same emotions you felt, the two of you were still unable to come together.

You would’ve given up had it not been for your own stubbornness, your own will to hold on, to see this through to the end.

He was worth it, and you knew it.

And so, you decided it didn’t matter if your time with him would be short because you would spend it happily, without regret.

After all, a few months spent with him was better than none at all.

You found yourself storming into the hospital, pure determination set on your face as you went up to the reception desk and demanded to know where Carlisle Cullen was.

The nurse gave you an odd look but didn’t question you further, and after giving her the information she needed, she directed you to his office.

You were assured he was filing papers, so you didn’t bother with knocking. Instead, you barged in with the burning desire to make your mark, to make your presence known, to show him, without any doubt, how you felt.

You didn't care if he was startled by your sudden entrance, and as you approached him, he stood up, surprise written on his face.

"I’m done, Carlisle," you said, your tone final, a declaration. "I’m so done."

He tilted his head in confusion.

Your hands came to a fist as you rested them against his desk, eyes narrowed and burning.

"I'm done holding back," you said, voice steady. "If you don’t kiss me right now, I'll never forgive you."

Your name came out as a soft sigh from his lips, and you couldn’t stop the shudder that ran through you at the sound of it. The mellow, gentle tone that held your entire being was always catching you off guard, even after all this time.

It wasn’t fair; it really wasn't.

"Kiss me, goddamnit!" You yelled at him, the demand clear in your tone.

And, like always, he denied you. In fact, he practically told you to shut up in his own way by bringing attention that you were still… quite literally, in the hospital.

You didn’t care. It was obvious by the way you kept going at him, demanding he take action.

And then, a gush of wind.

Your eyes widened, and before you could utter a word, the door from behind slammed shut. Not enough to create a loud bang, but enough to get your attention, and when you looked over, his arm was extended out, hand resting on the door.

Just inches away from your head.

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked up at him.

He was towering over you completely, and the proximity made your breathing hitch. His gaze was intense and golden, and it burned right through you like it always did. But you weren’t scared, not even the slightest bit.

This was what you wanted, after all.

So you kept silent and waited for him to make the first move. Any move, really.

A few seconds passed, and then, ever so slowly, he lowered his head. But he didn't lean down far enough, no. Instead, his face inched closer and closer to yours until, finally, all you could see were his eyes.

And all you could think about was his lips.

"As much as I want to," he began, voice soft and smooth. "You and I both know it's not that easy."

"Yes, it is," you retorted, stubborn. "You're just making it hard."

"I'm being realistic."

"Realistic? Really?" Your face twisted into a scowl. "Says the man who's not even human."

"That's precisely why," he said. "You’re…"

His voice quivered, just slight enough to be noticeable. It made your heart ache, and you were ready to interrupt him, to say that it didn’t matter; nothing else did.

But you stopped yourself.

It was only right to hear what he had to say.

"You truly wish to want… this? To give up the happiness of your future, the family you deserve, to be drowned in sorrow, all for me?"

His words were sincere, his voice quiet, and the expression on his face was one you could barely comprehend.

"Drowned…? Drowned?!" You echoed his words; brows knitted in a deep frown. "Carlisle, I'm already drowning! Right now!"

You paused, trying to calm yourself, but you could feel tears prickling your eyes. This wasn’t how you had imagined it going.

"It hurts," you confessed, voice low. "It hurts me that you don’t understand, that you think so little of yourself."

Carlisle's breath caught, and his lips parted in surprise, but you weren’t finished yet.

"It hurts me that you think I could ever be happy without you," you continued, your voice rising a bit. “Carlisle, I have found happiness in you. I am happy with you. The day we met, I was a wreck; my wrist was a wreck… everything was a wreck. But then you came, and now, now I'm happy. You make me happy."

The look on his face was unreadable, but it didn’t deter you from speaking your mind.

"Why can’t you see that? Why can’t you see that you’ll always be twice the man than any other human being out there?"

Silence.

He didn’t answer, and the longer the silence stretched, the more your heart hurt. Carlisle was a good man; he was. He was a good doctor, a good father, and, of course, a good-looking guy.

He deserved the world.

And if the world couldn't give it to him, you would.

"If you can't see it, then fine," you finally spoke, and it was almost a whisper. "Then I'll do it for you. I'll tell you every day. I'll keep telling you until it sticks."

The corners of your mouth tugged upwards into a shaky smile.

"Even if I have to keep yelling at you."

He exhaled, and suddenly, he looked much more relaxed, and you realized that you had gotten through to him.

It made the tears that were gathering in your eyes spill over.

"At least I know you wouldn’t toss me aside when my personality eventually overpowers my looks," you mumbled, laughing.

"Toss you aside?"

There was a sudden, sharp edge to his tone, and when his hand came to rest under your chin, gently, carefully, your eyes shot up, staring into his own.

You didn't realize it, but the way you looked at him, the expression on your face, it made him see something different, something he never expected.

A woman who loved him. Truly, sincerely, deeply, and completely.

He couldn’t believe it, and yet, you were right there, in front of him, your eyes shining and reflecting nothing but adoration and admiration.

Your eyes were shining, but not with sadness, no, not anymore.

It was a beautiful sight, one he would remember for all of eternity.

"I'd be a fool to do that," he whispered, his tone sincere, and when his other hand came up, his fingers brushing over your cheek, a featherlight touch, he could hear your breath catch.

"A complete and utter fool."

You watched the smile grow on his lips, and it was so beautiful, it was unreal.

But this, the feeling of his hand on your skin, the coldness contrasted by the warmth of your own body, the gentleness of his touch, it was surreal.

"Carlisle," you murmured, and he was still staring at you, but there was a new intensity in his gaze. "Let me give you the happiness you deserve. Let me."

You took a small step forward, and his hand was still resting under your chin. You didn't dare move or speak again, not until you could read his face, the expression on his features.

It was difficult, however, and just when you thought he wouldn't say anything, he spoke.

"I can't guarantee the future or the happiness," he admitted. "Not for myself, and not for you, but-"

"But?" You couldn’t help but smirk.

"I can try," he answered. "For your sake, I'll try."

You should’ve expected the response after that, the speed at which his hand moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you forward, and his other hand, moving downwards to rest on the small of your back.

You should've, but you didn't.

All you could do was stare at him, your eyes widening, and just when you opened your mouth to speak, to say something, anything, his lips were on yours, and all the coherent thoughts left you.

You could hear the thumping of your heart, loud, thundering, and it drowned out all the other sounds around you.

He was gentle and careful, and the kiss was nothing more than a brief, feather-light press of his lips, but it was enough. It was enough to set your whole body on fire, to have you lean in, to have your hands come up, grasping onto his lab coat for dear life.

You could feel the coldness of his skin, but the taste of his lips was indescribable.

He tasted sweet, like vanilla, and the longer his lips were on yours, the more the flavor lingered until you couldn’t remember how your own lips had ever tasted.

When he finally pulled away, it was as if the world was spinning and all the strength left your body.

"We're not in the clear just yet," he murmured, his gaze still intense, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "There are many things we have to talk about and many things to work out, but-"

"Carlisle," you breathed out, your grip on his coat tightening. "Don’t talk. Just relish."

You leaned forward, and he did the same, his eyes fluttering shut, and as your lips connected with his, your mind was filled with a single thought.

This.

This was right.

It was perfect, and the world was a better place.

The funny thing about fate is that if two people are meant to be, no matter the time, the place, or the circumstances, they'll find each other.

The two of you were living proof.

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bumblesimagines · 10 months ago

Note

i had a great time.

maybe you should go.

Maddy Perez

maybe you should go.

i had a great time.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

You and Lexi shared many similarities as twins. There was the shared love for literature and theater, the longing for Suze's attention, the bitter resentment toward Gus for leaving and never saying goodbye, the feeling of constantly being in Cassie's shadow, and of course, similar physical features.

But, like other siblings, you and Lexi were also vastly different.

Lexi preferred her solitude. She could spend hours alone in her shared bedroom on her laptop creating screenplay after screenplay in an online document. She was clumsy and awkward and despite her writing skills, she had trouble speaking to others without stammering or tripping over her words. Behind nearly every decision and action Lexi made had been a thought-out plan filled with 'what ifs'. You preferred leaps of faith into the unknown where the end destination wasn't visible until the last second. More often than not, you were left scrambling to ensure your ass wouldn't be toast.

Like the night after a party at a classmate's place when you woke up at home in your cozy bed with the slim body of your sister's closest friend cuddled up at your side and you left to stare at the ceiling debating your choices.

On one hand, Maddy Perez was bitchy and confident enough to pretend nothing ever happened between you and her. On the other hand, Nathaniel Jacobs had enough privilege to get away with murder if she ever let it slip.

So, there you remained, staring up at the ceiling and rethinking the life choices that led up to that moment. If only you hadn't agreed to go to the party with the girls. If only you hadn't agreed to Elliot's stupid challenge of flirting with Maddy to see what the school's queen bee would do. If only you'd encouraged the girls to head to their respective homes instead of crashing at the Howard residence. Then maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't be wondering what the hell Nate Jacobs would do to you if he ever found out you slept with his girlfriend. It wasn't as if you could sneak out and play dumb if she asked. She was in your bed, in your house.

Craning your neck to take a peek at her when she began to stir, you finally noticed her messy appearance. Her maroon lipstick had smudged considerably and from the red markings scattered across your skin, you could only assume how it'd happened. Her glittery, silver makeup appeared in a similar state, and the glitter smudged against your skin, twinkling with the sunlight that poured in from the window. Her hair was in the worst state you'd ever seen it in, and you found your gaze drawn to the light markings on her neck and shoulders. Her dark eyes fluttered open and for the first time since entering high school, you found yourself hoping for some disgust or repulsion in them. But instead, a yawn escaped her lips and she tiredly rubbed at her eyes.

"Morning." You murmured a bit awkwardly and dragged yourself up to rest your back against the headboard. She snorted quietly and brushed her raven hair out of her face, somehow still looking like a model. "About last night-"

"I had a great time. I never thought Cassie's little brother would have it in him. " Maddy began with a coy grin and you waited for a 'but' to follow. "We should do this again sometime." She purred instead and planted a kiss on the corner of your lips. You could practically feel your ego growing, but they weren't the words you wanted to hear from someone whose boyfriend had no problem with destroying the lives of those who even looked at her twice.

"Right." You forced a chuckle. Fuck. "I had a good time too, Mads, but I-I think maybe you should go or at least sneak into the girls' room before they wake up. I just... I think Cassie might get upset if she finds out and I, uh, I don't want to get you in trouble with Nate either."

She blinked at you and then blinked again. Her perfectly plucked brows slowly furrowed and the tips of her lips dragged downward. You couldn't quite tell what the look on her face meant. Was she disappointed? Hurt? Sad?

"You're kicking me out?" Ah. Of course, she was offended. Maddy getting turned down was an occurrence that only happened on blue moons and even then, whoever rejected her would only end up taking it back moments later.

"Maddy, I really think it's for the best. This will only end up hurting us both in the end." You tried again, speaking softly as if it'd do anything to convince her.

"And what if I don't care? What if I want to continue this?"

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male!reader #x male reader #euphoria #euphoria x reader #euphoria x male reader #euphoria x y/n #euphoria x you #maddy perez #maddy perez x reader #maddy perez x y/n #maddy perez x you #maddy perez x male reader

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eff4freddie · 6 months ago

Text

Touch | Part Six

Words: 5.8k

Just as you approach something resembling contentment, this broken world will exact its toll.

Warnings: smutty smut, trauma, grief, Joel hasn't come to terms with what happened in Salt Lake, Joel is bad at feelings, but pretty good with his hands. Minors DNI.

Part Five | Series Masterlist | Part Seven

You were busy again, the new table earning its keep almost immediately, and the ease that you moved around your treatment room, the way that you could bend without reaching over, push with your weight rather than your wrists, meant that you could concentrate more, heal more effectively. You hadn’t realised how much the clumsiness of the old dining table had been holding you back. Every day that you used it, you wanted to find a new way to thank Joel. Maybe even sometimes, with all of your clothes on.

Except that the idea also terrified you, in a way that you were struggling to really understand. The idea of him, of being naked with him, not that you really fully had been, of kissing him even, no that you had, was enough to send an absolute riot of butterflies careening through your guts and down into your legs, into your knees. The idea of him scared you, his reputation proceeded him, and you kept thinking of how wary Maria was, how protective Ellie seemed to be, how sweetly oblivious Tommy was most of the time which you were beginning to suspect was actually a choice. You wanted to pull them all into a room and forensically map out who the fuck Joel Miller actually was. You were aware you were thinking like a crazy person. You didn’t care.

Because then when he was with you, when you fell into his orbit, looked into his eyes, there was something heavier and realer and more tangible than your stupid, flighty, squawking fears. It worried you, that he made you into a different person when he was around you. You weren’t sure what that person was capable of getting up to, left to her own devices, but you had an inkling.

You knew that you were pushing him away, pushing it all away, because it scared you, but also it felt like the only sane thing to do, had kept you alive for years and years, had meant that when you lost people it hurt less, maybe. Being busy again, and fairly invested in maintaining your denial for as long as you could manage it, you got back to your usual routine of seeing the broken and weary people of Jackson early, before the work hours, and then steadily throughout the day. It afforded you the illusion of being sociable, of contributing to the community, without having to actually be in it. Without Ray and Marla, with Maria and Tommy wrapped up in the baby, with Joel being…Joel, you had collected a long list of clients and a dwindling list of friends. It could have made you sad if you thought about it, so you didn’t, and you were too busy anyway, and how could you be lonely with all these people in your house?

Besides which, in the quiet moments you could feel the tension in people, the uneasiness woven tight into the musculature of most of the residents you now saw. Not everyone knew Marla or Jacob or the others personally, not everyone even necessarily liked them, especially not fucking Jacob, but everyone had an investment in their safe and hopefully bountiful return.

To escape it, you went for long walks along the foreshore of Jackon’s lake at the bottom of the township, until the dying light forced you back. You were there, hands in the freezing water feeling out for flat stones you could warm in hot water and press into particularly assertive muscle knots, when you heard the yelling. You were up and sprinting, the twisty and icy path underneath you occasionally threatening to boot you into the snow, and if you’d had time to think about it you have marvelled at the difference in your reaction from Joel and Ellie’s homecoming to this one. The elation you felt at their return, the relief of it, not just for you and Marla and Ray, but for Jackon. For what it meant for this community. For your community.

Trying not to knock yourself out on the way to the gate meant that you didn’t initially notice the quiet. There was a smattering of people still out despite the cold, the encroaching darkness, but they weren’t rushing forward, weren’t really helping the returned residents, were in fact milling around, some just standing in quiet observance, and it occurred to you for a second that they were like onlookers at a funeral. You pushed forward into the crowd, trying to see past unmoving shoulders, past still bodies, moving towards the sounds of horses, of panting breaths you weren’t sure belonged to whom.

And then you arrived at the front, and you had a clear view. And you realised the panting breaths were your own.

There were only two horses, and only three riders. Marla at the reigns of one, Jacob slung over the back of her saddle, slumping over at an odd angle, his head rolled back in a way that you thought would really strain his cervical spine, until you realised he was tied to the horse, had been roped around Marla’s midsection, that he was nearly as pale as the snow around you, that he was very dead. The other rider stared, unblinking, into the distance and was eventually helped down and led to the infirmary, not ever having said a word.

Marla had seen you, had watched you fight your way to the front of the crowd, had searched you out. She was shivering, a splatter of blood across her chest and under her neck, and you couldn’t tell if it was hers or if it was Jacob’s or someone else’s entirely, and in that moment staring into her eyes you knew that it didn’t matter, that it would never matter, that whatever damage it was it had already been calculated, tallied, on a ledger somewhere none of you would ever be able to balance.

You motioned to a few of the men around you, gesturing to the ropes around Marla’s middle. ‘Cut him loose,’ you said, in a voice you didn’t recognise, and reached your arms up to hold Marla’s hand. You held it, limp and contrite in yours, while Jacob’s body was freed from hers. When he was lifted away she slumped forward, her back having held his weight for god knows how long, and you caught her, pulled her down from the horse on wobbling legs, let her crumple underneath you and set her down onto the pavement. Someone pulled a blanket over her shoulders and you held her in it, gripped her hard and tight and let her shake in your arms. You looked up into the eyes of Ray, who looked like he might throw up or pass out or both, and you pulled him down with you, wrapped him around her while he cried into her hairline, and you watched as the horses were led away.

‘Did you bring anything?’ someone asked from the crowd, quiet but hopeful, and you wanted to reach up and slap them for every moronic word they had dared speak into existence, had thought to utter in this sacred space of abject loss.

Marla never answered, and you squeezed her. She twisted in your arms to look up at you, an angry purple and yellow bruise forming having formed under her eye. You turned to Ray. ‘Help me get her to mine,’ you said.

You had the fire going, and you pushed your old armchair right up to it, folding Marla into it under a sea of blankets. Ray went to get something to bring her from the mess hall, something warming but easy to chew, and you perched beside her, slid down until her knees were in your lap and she was resting her head against the wing of the chair, and you stared, together, into the fire.

‘We barely made it back,’ she whispered, her voice dry, her lips chapped and windburned. You stayed still, not wanting to shake her, not wanting to do anything that might stop her from talking. ‘Rode through, all night. I wanted to bring him back, bring them all but I could only get him.’

‘Was it raiders?’ you asked, and she shook her head.

‘Both,’ she said, and you didn’t understand. ‘Raiders that had…kept a few clickers, had them locked up, had them uhhh…weaponised.’

You shuddered. ‘Like pets?’ you asked.

‘Like torture devices,’ she simply replied. You contemplated this for a second, couldn’t imagine it, the terror of being faced with that choice: raider or runner.

‘We got within a few hours of where we thought the pharmacy was,’ she went on, her voice catching. She continued to shake, her hands tremoring underneath the blanket, and you tried to tuck her in tighter, tried to warm her up. ‘We’d gone through a valley, ended up on the other side of a glade, it would have been so beautiful in the before times. We found a farmhouse, looked abandoned. Wasn’t.’

She was jiggling her foot and you put your hand out to hold it, feeling that her socks were wet. ‘By the time we realised they were already on us, were ready, had seen us coming.’

She looked at you, tears forming in her eyes. ‘They tried to lock us in the cage with them,’ she swallowed. ‘Jacob was really brave, fought them hard, stopped them from putting us in.’

If cold had gotten into her boots she must have been freezing, was risking losing a toe. You lifted the blankets to pull at her sock, putting your hand on her bare skin to warm it.

‘But one of them, two of them maybe, they got out,’ she continued. You held the ball of her foot in your hand, rubbing your thumb over the top of her foot in what you hoped were comforting little circles.

‘I just wanted to get him back here,’ she said, just as you felt it, a raised, rough ridge on her ankle, tendrils of heat snaking up her shin. You threw the blankets back, saw the bite there, the way the ropes of twisting fungus had already started their march up to her heart. You froze, your terrified eyes snapping to her wet, sorry, scared ones.

‘Don’t let Ray do it,’ she said.

It didn’t matter that you hadn’t been there before, you knew where it was. You wrapped on the door so hard you would later discover the skin on your knuckles had split. All you could hear was the ringing in your ears, your vision narrowed down to a pinprick, the look on Marla’s face so drawn, so scared, so resolute, imprinted on the inside of your eyelids. You kept wrapping, hopping from side to side, your tears mingling with the frigid air. You called for him on his front porch, your voice high and choking on the fear, on the grief in it.

He'd wrenched the door open, having pulled his boots on but not yet done up the laces, the furrow in his brow deep, his eyes wild when he clocked you, when he checked your six.

‘Jesus, are you? What is it?’ he spluttered, and you couldn’t let him finish, had to get the words out in case they poisoned you.

‘She’s bit, Joel,’ you spat out, watching his face fall.

‘Who, Ellie?’ he asked, panic rising in his voice, and you choked out a sob, shaking your head fiercely. He grabbed you by both shoulders, bending down to look you in the eye. You shook underneath him, wanted to launch yourself into his chest and bury yourself in it.

‘Marla,’ you said, shivering so hard your jaw was barely cooperating. ‘She came back bit.’

‘Where is she?’ he asked, and you told him. You’d locked her in your treatment room. She hadn’t turned yet, and you figured there was still an hour or two, maybe. The tremors you’d thought were the cold, shock.

‘Please, Joel,’ you said, and he was already heading back into the house to grab his rifle. Tears were streaming down your face now, your knees threatening to give. ‘Please be kind about it.’

He pulled you in, off his porch and into his living room. Set you down on the rug beside the fire.

‘I’ve got you,’ he said. ‘You stay here, you stay warm. You wait for me. You don’t come lookin’, you hear me?’

You nodded, and he shook his head at you. ‘Repeat it,’ he said.

‘I won’t come looking,’ you said, quiet and desperate like a child. He nodded, then, his rifle slung over his shoulder. You took a long breath in, felt the burn of it down your chest and into your lungs. Felt the electricity crackle between the two of you, arcing from his chest to yours through the air, let it fuel you for the next part.

The three of you had just left Chicago, two or so days into your trek towards Wyoming, to maybe find something better, to maybe find more of the same. Ray and Marla were ahead of you by about four paces, you deciding to hang back to let them chat. You could hear their murmurs, Ray’s giggle high and giddy when Marla made him laugh. You could imagine the two of them strolling down a sidewalk together, one hand holding their coffees with the other hand holding each other’s. You could see the golden light of the late afternoon in the trees, backlighting them as they chatted about their work, about their friends, about what movie they wanted to see on the weekend. You could imagine them going out for dinner of an evening, Marla resting her head on Ray’s shoulder as the sun set over the water, the two of them intertwined and suburban and blissfully, delightfully bored.

You were so lost in this reverie that you hadn’t realised they were talking to you until you nearly rammed into them, and you stopped to see them smiling, warmly at you.

‘You were a million miles away,’ Marla observed, and she reached out to pinch your arm.

‘Years,’ you said. ‘I was a million years away.’

You sat with your legs folded underneath you on Joel’s floor, the fire warming your skin enough to remind you that you were alive. Your stomach ached, your chest burned, you rocked backwards and forwards and tucked your chin into your chest and sobbed, alternating between wiping your tears with the top of your shirt and just letting them fall onto the carpet.

You saw yourself as if you were floating outside your body, observed yourself get up on all fours and keen into the carpet, unleashing a wail unlike anything you’d ever heard. You thought, for a second, that this woman on the floor was unrecognisable, was barely human, scratching at the rug and trying to breathe through the sobs.

The night grew darker. The fire died down. You collapsed in on yourself, felt the last guide rope tethering you to the ground fail, and you slipped under, crouched on the floor with your forehead resting on your arms, your knees numb from the weight of pressing into the rug, your mind empty, time having stopped, the world having fallen off its axis. A small part of you observed in wonder at how much grief you could carry. A larger part, a wiser part, a part that had taken a back seat to let the banshee take the wheel for a while, knew that this was so much more than Marla. Knew that it was all of them, a ledger steeped in red.

In the darkness you became vaguely aware of footsteps, the sound of the fire being stoked, logs being added. Felt a blanket thrown over your shoulders, then warm hands on the small of your back guiding you, pulling you up and over to sit astride a warm body, a strong pair of legs. You wrapped your arms around him, clung to him like a koala to a Eucalypt, snuffled your tear-streaked face into his neck, into his shirt. He held you to him, a hand buried in your hair and cradling your skull in his palm, the other wrapped around your back, easing the fabric away and tucking under, to touch you, skin to skin. You heard whispers of words, mixed with your own sobs, your own gasps. He held you through all of it, on aching bones on the hard floor, until the crashing waves settled, until you finally washed ashore.

‘You don’t have a couch,’ you said, after a while, pulling your head up to observe the oddly sparse furniture arrangement. He snickered, leaning you back to brush the hair out of your eyes, away from your wet face.

You realised, after a moment, heat on your cheeks. ‘Oh,’ you said, simply. He gazed at you, watched you put two and two together, stood unshaken in all that he had sacrificed for you.

‘But where do you sit?’ you asked, and he nodded towards the old rocking chair he’d pulled in from the porch outside. You nodded your head, because it was perfect really, and because it made sense, and because you needed it to.

‘Is she gone?’ you asked, shifting on his lap to watch his face. He blinked slowly, nodded. You felt your face crumple, felt him tighten his hold on you. ‘Was it bad?’ you choked out, and he shook his head.

‘She was so brave,’ he said, gravelly voice just above a whisper. He reached out and cupped your face, wiped a tear away, held your gaze to him. ‘She was ready. She said when it was time.’

‘She didn’t…turn?’ you asked, clinging to his forearms now, letting him anchor you. He shook his head once more.

‘No, baby,’ he said, and you wanted to wrap yourself up in the sound of it, let it blanket you in warmth and quiet, burrow down into it and hibernate for the winter.

‘Thank you,’ you said, simply. He hummed in response, collecting a tear on his thumb and raising it to his lips, licking it clean. You gasped at the sight of it, his eyes never leaving yours, squirming on his lap, the sudden heat in your cunt catching you off guard. ‘Joel?’ you whispered, and he raised his eyebrows at you. ‘Are your legs numb?’ and he laughed then, because you had managed to surprise him, and after he caught his breath he sheepishly nodded. ‘Take me to bed, then,’ you said, climbing off him and extending a hand. You hauled him up, his knees creaking. For a moment the both of you stood, staring at each other in the light of the fire. You felt breathless with need for him, your head swimming, the sadness shifting just enough to let the heat in, the want. ‘Up the stairs,’ he told you. You slipped your hand into his paw.

Joel’s bedroom was sparse, the walnut oak bed pressed up against the wall, a stack of books on the floor beneath a bare lamp, a guitar in the corner. His scent was all over the sheets, all over the clothes strewn around the floor. You pressed yourself against him in the hope that you would absorb some of it into your cotton.

The moment you crossed the threshold his hands were on you, pulling your clothes from you like they had personally insulted him, shucking your jeans off your hips and pulling your panties down with them until you were bare, standing before him at the foot of his bed. He took a step back and you watched his face as his gaze devoured you, the heat of it so scorching that you could swear you could feel his fingers on you even standing three feet away. You trembled from the cold air and the intensity of it, and he saw in your face, read in you that you wanted to turn away from it, from the intimacy of it.

‘Don’t,’ he all but whispered, coming towards you and running his hands up on the outside of your arms. ‘Don’t be shy, not now,’ he said. He slipped a hand behind your back and his knees between yours, pushing you gently onto the bed behind you, laid his body over you and nipped at the skin behind your ear. You pulled at his flannel, trying to claw it from him without even unbuttoning it, groaning in frustration when the garment held fast. He snickered, his little lopsided grin, as he pulled it away.

You lifted yourself up on one arm, bringing the other to cradle him to you, licks and nibbles to his collar bone, to the patches of hair on his chin. His brought his hands to your breasts, pebbled the nipple with his fingers while he pushed and rolled them, squeezed them together just to watch them bounce. He was hard and heavy between your legs, still covered in his jeans, and you lifted shaking fingers to his belt buckle. He froze, a sharp intake of breath between his teeth, as he watched you. You faltered, worried for a second you had read it all wrong, that he was going to push you from him, that he had seen something in you, that you had revealed something wrong and gnarled.

‘Do you…should I?’ you stuttered, and he came to his senses again, his brow creasing when he saw you were floundering.

‘Oh, my sweet girl,’ he said, and you thought it would be kinder if he just set you on fire at that point, ‘darlin’ I was just awed for a second, that somethin’ as gorgeous as you would want a man like me. An old man like me.’

You felt the relief wash over you, your pulse quickening now but not from fear. ‘Seasoned,’ you grinned, bringing him back down to you, pulling him on top of you as his hands helped yours to free him, push his jeans over his hips. ‘Worn in,’ you went on, and he grinned at your little game. ‘Fine wine,’ you finished, and he snickered again.

‘Vinegar,’ he said, and you pushed his head down to your chest, fed him your breast, let him lave at your nipple while you gasped and clutched at his hair.

‘Experienced,’ you whimpered, and he huffed out a warm laugh into your breastbone. You wanted to unlock your ribs, swing them open like an ancient garden gate, and capture it there for safe keeping.

Free, now, the two of you naked and lying together on top of his blanket, the sheets rumpling underneath you as you rutted against each other. He reached a hand down to cup your sex, groaning when he felt how wet he had made you, how you were dripping for him. You gasped as he ran his fingers up and over your slit, gently teasing your lips apart, testing you, teasing you. You rolled your hips, trying to snare him, trying to slide him inside, but he worked against you, zigged when you zagged, and your frustrated little gasps delighted him.

‘Joel,’ you groaned, your voice tight across your chest, not enough air in your lungs to properly scold him. He ignored you, instead lifting his lips to his fingers and sampling a little taste. You watched him, eyes wide as his fell shut at the taste of you.

‘So sweet,’ he said, almost to himself, before he opened his eyes as if he just remembered you were there. ‘Here, baby,’ he said, and he fed yourself to you, his fingers sliding over your tongue as you suckled at them, his hot breath on your face as he watched you, pupils dark in the half-light of his lamp, sweat forming on his brow.

When you had sucked them clean he lowered them again, slipped them inside you, bending down to rest his ear on your mouth when you began to pant, to whimper.

‘Show me,’ he said, pulling your hand to your cunt and watching as you began slow, lazy circles around your clit. He furrowed his brow, pushed off you and down to watch properly, lifted a leg to prop you open, planting your foot on the mattress beneath you to open you wide and obscene in front of him. You blushed, moved to cover your face with your hands, but he stopped and caught you, brought your fingers back to your core before he slipped inside again. You raised your head to look at him beneath you and you realised he was learning you, studying your movements to replicate them later, letting you teach him how to touch you so that you’d never have to do it alone again.

Your first orgasm hit you hard. Under his careful, studious gaze you felt yourself unravel, your legs shaking where he held you open, his hand grasping at your ankle to keep you from slamming shut. So lost in the feeling of it, of the blooming heat expanding out and into your belly, of the undulations of your cunt around his fingers, that you barely noticed him slip his fingers from you and slide to the ground beside the bed, pushing your legs into your chest and holding them there, pressing you in half all the better to ease his tongue into your cunt and lick up your spend, kitten licks at your sensitive clit before plunging his tongue into your hole, breathing hard through his nose and groaning, uttering filth in the base of his throat as he devoured you, wrung your second orgasm from you in a matter of minutes, rolling from side to side and head thrown back, hands tangled in his hair as his mouth rode you, as he stayed with you up to your peak and then over it, savouring and lapping at your come, rutting into the side of the bed as he let your thighs down to rest on his shoulders, your breath ragged and rippling with pleasure, hands clutching to the blanket to steady himself, to catch his breath.

He gazed at you in repose, ran his eyes over your sopping cunt up to your heaving belly, to the curve of the underside of your breast, the nipples straining into the cold air, and then up to your face, your head thrown back as you came down, as you squirmed from the overstimulation still coursing through you, as you let your hands drop beside you, sated and glorious in his worship of you.

You swallowed, your mouth, lips, throat dry. With shaky hands you reached for him, grabbed at the air above his shoulders, felt him shift and rise up to meet you, felt his weight blanketing you as you came back to yourself. With one hand in your hair and the other tracing your cheek, your jaw, you opened your eyes to stare into his, the desire carved hard and deep into his features.

‘Take it,’ you whispered, watching as his bottom lip quivered with need. ‘Please, Joel.’

He shifted his weight to one arm, reached down between you as you lifted your legs to bracket his hips, crossing your feet at the ankles behind his back. You felt him guide his cock to the weeping maw of your cunt.

‘Please,’ you whispered again, as you felt him slip inside you, the burn and the stretch and the force of him, so hard and pulsing as he parted you. He dropped his head, sighing, and you planted your lips to his brow, whimpered at the weight of his cock inside you, at the weight of the two of you finally, finally joined.

‘She’s tight, baby,’ he said, his brow creasing. He moved his hips, shoving further into you in one shot, and you gasped, grabbed at his shoulders, brought his eyes back to yours. He paused, gazing into your eyes, read the trepidation in them. ‘S’ok baby,’ he cooed, leaning down to place a kiss on your cheekbone. ‘You can do it,’ he encouraged, and you felt the warmth of his reassurance radiate down your thighs. ‘We can take our time,’ he said, languidly pulling back from you before gently, achingly, taking his place again. ‘Got all night for ya,’ he said, and you realised he had started to ramble, and that under his hot breath, on top of his blanket in his sparse bedroom lit only by his bedside lamp, in the cold Jackson night where the snow dampened all the noise, all the loss, all the sharp edges down, you never wanted him to stop whispering his filthy encouragement to you, never wanted him to stop easing his way into you, to the core of you, marking you where only he belonged.

‘Doin’ so good for me,’ he went on, his eyes closing on their own, lost in the grip of your cunt around him, in the heat of you. Finally he was fully seated, the warmth of his belly coming to rest upon yours. He settled there, reluctant to move, until you squirmed underneath him, caged whimpers escaping your throat. He opened his eyes, his lopsided grin appearing above you, as he planted a kiss on your hairline, gazed down at you as you stretched around him. He brought his hand down to cup your jaw again, held you there under his stare, as he withdrew his hips and eased back in again, pushing deeper into you that you gasped when he bottomed out, his eyes never leaving yours as your mouth dropped open in surprise at the feeling he was pulling from you, at the need and the ache of your cunt spread so open and wanting for him, at the way he was so effortlessly taking you apart, so calmly and so warmly unravelling you.

‘Too good,’ you complained, your brow saddling and jaw clenching, as you felt your cunt grip and release, grip and release. He cooed at you, revelling in your whimpers, gasped as you did, shared in your breath, made you submit to the divinity he was pushing you towards. This was how your third orgasm found you.

Locked in his gaze you could only lie beneath him, holding him to you by the shoulders and groaning as he pistoned in and out, watching his eyes slam shut as he was dragged under, submitted to the pull, his come washing the fear and the stress and the grief out of you, replacing it only with scorching heat, with a kind of pleasure indistinguishable from a greedy, pernicious want, with something that, in another life, you could have shaped into love.

You lay, entwined together, under his blanket. Your head on his chest, ear to his heartbeat, you felt your body rise and fall as he breathed underneath you. You hadn’t wanted the night to end, hadn’t wanted to close your eyes and wake to the aftermath. Together you lay and watched the sunrise. Occasionally Joel ran his fingers up and down your arm to let you know he was still there.

‘Joel?’ you whispered, and he hummed in response. You kept your head down, listening to his pulse quicken as you spoke. ‘Canna ask you something?’ you said, jaw resting on his ribs.

‘Uhhuh,’ he said, but his fingers were stopped now, frozen in place on your shoulder.

‘Before, when we were…’ you trailed off, because even though hours before he had been eyelevel with your swollen, puffy cunt, now suddenly talking about it felt too intimate. ‘Before,’ you started again, ‘you said you didn’t think I’d want a man like you.’

‘An old man,’ he corrected, and you smiled.

‘Seasoned,’ you corrected, and he groaned, theatrically. ‘But you said a man like you, then an old man like you,’ you reminded him. He wasn’t laughing anymore, and you could feel the temperature in the room drop. ‘What did you mean?’ you ploughed on, because you were in it now.

He thought for a moment, swallowing hard. You shifted in his arms, looked up at him, saw the flicker of panic there, before he reset his features in stone. You pulled away from him in surprise, not having seen that look directed at you in weeks, not since the first time he had appeared reticent and sore at your door. Your stomach dropped.

‘I gotta check on the horses,’ he said, rolling you out of the way and moving to get up. You sat up with him, grabbing at his arm.

‘Joel,’ you said, trying to pull him back towards you, but so easily overpowered. He rolled his shoulder, shaking you off.

‘The two that came back, they need to be checked over. Waited for first light.’

‘Joel, I don’t understand what’s happening.’ He was standing, pacing around the room pulling his clothes back together, gathering yours and dropping them on the end of the bed. He stared at you, expectant, but you refused to move.

‘What kind of man did you mean, Joel?’ you pressed him, and he scoffed, pulling his jeans on and hastily doing up his shirt. He missed a few buttons, and in that moment you didn’t feel like helping him.

‘You know exactly what kind of man,’ he said.

You saw Maria’s tense shoulders when he came into her kitchen, bleeding. You saw her sitting in your kitchen as you held her feet to your chest, explaining how Tommy was different, how he had only wanted to impress his big brother.

Sort of dressed, he was now pacing, the morning light turning his skin a ghostly pale, and you thought for a moment he was haunting you. ‘You know exactly,’ he repeated. ‘Same reason you came running to me the second your friend needed killin’.’

You flinched like he’d slapped you, would have preferred if he had.

‘What kind of man, Joel?’ you asked, and he looked at you, then, tortured for a second before he wiped it away with his hand on his face.

‘A fuckin killer,’ he said, quiet and deathly in the chill of the morning.

You stared at him, heart racing. You were surprised and you also weren’t. You knew what this world demanded of people, the toll you had all paid for survival.

‘Infected?’ you asked, and he sighed, frustrated.

‘Don’t be so fuckin’ naïve,’ he said.

You remembered you were naked, but this was the first time he had really made you feel it, and you held the blanket to your chest, tight.

He wouldn’t look at you, staring instead out the window as Jackson woke.

‘I ain’t a good man,’ he said, quietly, and you shook your head.

‘I don’t believe that,’ you said, and he sneered at you then, picked up your clothes and threw them at you.

‘You don’t know shit about me,’ he said, and then he was gone. You listened as his heavy footsteps stomped down the stairs, the pause as he pulled his boots on, the slam of the door.

Taglist:

@orcasoul

@archofimagine

@hiroikegawa

@ilovejoel-andjavi

@giggly-otter

@harrysrosetatto

@Hjzghi-blog

@daddy-dins-girl

@kathaaaaaaa

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #tlou fanfiction

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maxinesgun · 2 months ago

Note

Can you write about reader comforting Jacob

nothing but time ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

pairing: jacob custos x f!reader

summary: you and jacob are hiding away together in one of the cabins after everything has gone to hell. an admission of what really happened to the van leads to an inadvertent confession of his feelings for you.

cw: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, jacob pining, mentions of blood, swearing, tending to jacob's injury, first kiss, a bit of angst, reader makes him nervousss (2.7k)

a/n: i thought this prompt paired well with an idea i already had, so i decided to combine them. hope you like! also i did not mean for it to turn out this long lol

“Fuck. Shit. Fuck.”

Needless to say, you were not great with blood.

And there was a lot of it.

Jacob released a long, slow breath through clenched teeth as he lowered himself down onto the bunk bed, taking care not to rest any weight on his injured leg. His brows were furrowed and all the hard lines of his body were tensed in pain, but he was handling this remarkably well, considering. You’d think you were the one who had stepped in a bear trap.

You were trying your best to think about what a rational person would do in this situation—not that the situation you were currently in was in any way normal. What did one do when being hunted by werewolves at a closed-down summer camp with no way to escape or call for help? You shook your head, determining that going down that road would send you into full-blown panic mode. Instead, you narrowed it down: What did one do when one’s friend had stepped in a bear trap?

“Bandages,” you said firmly, more to give yourself a clear goal to focus on than anything. “Okay, yes. I think there’s a first aid kit in here somewhere.” You felt Jacob’s gaze on you as you began kneeling down to grope blindly under each of the bunk beds. You guessed you must have looked somewhat frantic, judging by the way he was looking at you as if you’d just started speaking a different language.

“Okay, I’m getting the sense that you’re really freaked out right now, but really, I’m fine. It’s not that bad. Look, I can still bend my—ah, shit.”

“You’re sitting there with a bloody stump for a foot and you’re telling me not to freak out?” you scoffed as you ducked to peer under one of the last beds, practically pressing yourself to the floor. It was dark in here, and you tried not to think about all of the mouse droppings and spiderwebs your arm was probably brushing against. Right now, that was the absolute least of your worries. Eventually your hand knocked against something solid, and a rush of relief washed over you as you pulled out the small first aid kit. “Got it.”

“Hey, come on. I know it looks bad, but I still have a foot.” You could tell he was making an effort to sound like his usual self, light and joking, but his voice was strained, his breathing a bit heavy.

“Pretty soon you won’t, if it gets infected,” you pointed out as you returned to the bed he was on and crouched down in front of him with the kit, rifling through its contents.

“Okay, not helping.” He watched as you pulled out a roll of bandages and a tiny bottle of rubbing alcohol, a twinge of uncertainty flitting across his features. “You, uh, know what you’re doing with that?”

“No, not really,” you said, grimacing as you examined his ankle. It was caked in drying blood and dirt from when he’d had to race through the forest barefoot. You took a steadying breath, willing yourself to stay cool as you focused on ripping off a small piece of fabric from your already-torn shirt. “It’s not too complicated though, right? Clean the wound, then wrap it up. Easy. I took first aid once when I was like, fourteen.”

Jacob nodded, leaning an arm on the bedpost. He didn’t look too reassured. “Oh, great. See, that makes me feel a lot better.”

You shot him a sharp look, glancing up momentarily from where you were leaning over his leg. You found that his eyes had already been on you, and you thought you saw something in them soften as his lips quirked into a lopsided grin. “Sorry. Just kidding. You’re who I’d trust most with this kinda thing, anyway.”

“Really? Not Dylan?” you joked, using the bunched-up scrap of fabric to gently wipe around the wound as much as you could. When you placed a hand on his calf to hold him in place, you noticed the way he stiffened, went completely still, but you attributed it to him trying to brace against the pain.

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head a little. “You know what, scratch that. Definitely Dylan.”

You reached for the rubbing alcohol next, unscrewing it and holding him in place a little more firmly. You tried to keep from wincing at your next words, knowing it was about to hurt like hell. “Okay, now this might sting a bit.”

The bed creaked as he straightened up. “Wait, wait, wait, what are you—”

His words abruptly cut off with a grunt as you poured the alcohol over the wound. “Fuuuck,” he hissed out between clenched teeth, his eyes squeezed shut and his head falling against his chest.

“Sorry. It’s better if you’re not expecting it,” you said apologetically, glancing up at him with a weak half-smile. You set the bottle aside and began unraveling the roll of bandage, determined to work quickly. Who knew how much time you had here to hunker down in safety before one of those things burst through the window?

Jacob’s jaw was tensed, a muscle in it jumping as he let out a long breath, but he nodded, another attempt at nonchalance. “I’m good. Totally good. Barely felt a thing.”

The smile on your lips grew a bit at that as you began wrapping the bandage around his ankle, trying to make sure it was snug but not uncomfortably so. A silence fell in the space between you, and you suddenly became very aware of the strange intimacy of the moment—the fact that you were alone together, touching him so casually, the only light in the dim cabin the moonlight slanting across the floorboards.

You were sure he was watching you, and for some reason you were very determined not to look up as you finished wrapping him up, leaning in to tear the end of the roll off with your teeth. “There, I think you’re fine,” you said, glad to fill the silence. “It’s probably not the best, but…”

“Thanks,” he said quietly, and it sounded so sincere that your heart squeezed in your chest. He groaned as he looked down at his leg. “God, I’m screwed, aren’t I?”

“Just be glad it was your foot and not that handsome face of yours. How would you get all the girls?” you grinned, attempting to lighten the mood as you tied the bandage off tightly. Your slightly shaky fingers made it a bit difficult, but you managed.

You heard him breathe a laugh, but it sounded half-hearted, and when you glanced up at him, his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. Right.”

His eyes lingered on you for a few seconds, an expression in them you couldn’t quite place, and you cleared your throat, brushing off your scuffed jeans as you stood. The feeling in your stomach was one you were familiar with—a twisting, fluttering sensation that only happened when Jacob looked at you a certain way. One that you were used to shoving down, where it couldn’t be examined too closely.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you walked over to the window, hesitantly scanning what was visible of the grounds and the trees of the forest beyond. There was no movement; it was quiet, almost peaceful. In a way, it only made you more anxious. “I don’t know how long we’ll be able to stay in here,” you said, worrying your lip between your teeth. Your mind was racing with what your next move should be. “Maybe we should try to go find Nick and Abi, make sure they’re okay. Do you think they’d be at the lodge?”

A fresh wave of worry washed over you as you thought about your other friends and the fact that you didn’t know where they were right now, if they were safe. Would all of you make it out okay after all of this?

“I don’t—yeah, the lodge. Good idea,” Jacob said from behind you. After a moment you heard him let out a sigh, and you turned back to him. He looked distraught, his faraway gaze focused on the floor in front of him. He didn’t seem to notice you staring at him as he ran a hand through his hair, the movement a bit agitated. “God, I can’t believe…” he trailed off, and he gave a small shake of his head. “This is all my fault.”

The words were muttered, as if meant more for himself than for you. You frowned in confusion, studying his face. You’d never seen him look so serious. “What? What do you mean, your fault?”

“All of this. It’s only happening because… because of me.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw, seeming to contemplate something, and finally looked up at you. “I messed with the van.”

It took several seconds for you to process what he’d said, the implications dawning on you much slower than they should have. “Jacob…” you started, but you didn’t know what to say. It felt like your thoughts were wading through sludge.

“I messed with the van,” he repeated, the words rushing out of him. “That’s why it won’t start. It was stupid, and I didn’t know all of this shit would happen, but it did, and if anything happens to you, or—or anyone, I…”

Your mouth opened, closed. You stared at him in shock for a long moment, taking in his pleading expression as the previous events of the evening replayed in your head. Of course. It hadn’t made sense that the van had just stopped working all of a sudden.

You rubbed a hand over your eyes, a slightly hysterical laugh bubbling out of your chest at the sheer absurdity of your current situation. What even was this night? You’d think you were dreaming, if you hadn’t known any better. “What the fuck, Jacob? Why?”

“I just needed—” he let out a breath, looking away from you. “I just needed more time. We’ll be going off to college after this, and it won’t be the same, y'know? I didn’t get a chance to tell you—” he cut himself off, looking frustrated with himself.

You stared at him, your arms dropping to your sides. What was he trying to say? “A chance to tell me what?” you asked uncertainly, swallowing against your dry throat. His eyes met yours for a few beats, and you felt like you could see the unspoken words in them, understood all at once.

To say you hadn’t considered anything more than friendship with Jacob would be an outright lie, and an unconvincing one, at that. Of course you had—you’d formed quite a bond since the very first week of summer, had grown fond of his dumb jokes and the way he teased you constantly, which quickly became a comfortable back-and-forth between you that came so naturally you hadn’t remembered it being any other way.

And he was attractive, of course. No one could deny that.

“I don’t…” Your voice was faint even to your own ears, barely a murmur. It was all you could muster.

“That I like you,” he said simply, as if he couldn’t hold the words back any longer. “That’s what I wanted to tell you.”

You still hadn’t regained the ability to speak; your gaze flitted about the room as if searching for what to say before landing back on him, on his brown eyes, watching you with a softness and a hint of sadness that made your heart twist in your chest.

You opened your mouth to speak, not particularly knowing what would come out, but he raised a hand to stop you, seeing the expression on your face. “You don’t have to say anything.”

Another silence fell after that, one in which your mind was reeling with the new reality that you had just been hit over the head with. Jacob, having feelings for you? For how long? And why hadn’t he told you earlier, at any other time prior to being in a life-or-death scenario like this one? After a few minutes—or maybe ten, you didn’t know—you pushed off the wall and slowly ambled over to sit beside him on the bed, where he was staring down at the injured leg you had just bandaged up.

“Ah, fuck—it wasn’t supposed to go like this,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair again. Your eyes swept over his face, lingering on the line of his strong jaw, on his soft-looking hair. “It was gonna be at the lake, or—or the campfire, y'know, once we were alone. And I would’ve had some liquid courage in me, so I didn’t sound like as much of a nervous idiot, and it would’ve just been chill—”

“Jacob—”

“—but then all this fucked up shit happened, and we all might be dead after tonight because of some dumbass romantic-comedy fantasy I had in my head—"

“It’s not your—”

“—like everything was just going to work out perfectly. Like one more night was going to change anything—”

“—Jacob. Look at me.”

The firmness in your tone made him snap out of his rambling, and when he finally turned to look at you, you didn’t allow yourself time to think twice. You took his face in your hands and kissed him.

That shut him up.

He went rigid for just a moment, but then you felt him melt into the kiss, leaning into you as his big hand came to rest on your thigh. It wasn’t a gentle kiss, nor an urgent one; it was deep, purposeful, as if a culmination of all the brief looks, small touches, and hidden thoughts that had passed between you. He kissed you as if it was just another summer night, as if you had all the time in the world in this cabin, and a warmth you hadn’t felt before spread through you as you marveled at how soft his lips felt against your own.

You broke the kiss, drawing back for breath, and you saw his gaze rove your face before falling back to your parted lips. “Wow,” he breathed after a long pause, for once looking as though he was at a loss for words.

“You didn’t have to wait all summer to do that,” you said, smiling softly, “just so you know.” You realized then that you were still holding his face, and slowly leaned away, letting your hands fall back into your lap.

“Huh.” He managed to tear his eyes away from your mouth to meet your stare, but when you bit your bottom lip, a habit of yours, you saw them flick back down once or twice. His hand hadn’t moved from your leg, and you were glad; it was warm and steadying. “Well, now I feel twice as stupid.”

You breathed a laugh, but shook your head slightly, looking at him earnestly. “Listen. None of this is your fault.”

He let out a breath, barely a sigh. “If I hadn’t—”

“—you didn’t know this would happen. You couldn’t have known,” you told him firmly. You rested your hand over his on your thigh, a spark of electricity shooting up your arm at the simple touch. “Any one of us could have made the same mistake.”

“I just… I’m sorry,” he said quietly, and though you didn’t want the apology, you nodded, knowing he felt like he needed to say it. You could see the pain in his eyes, the self-blame, and it made something ache inside you.

“We’re going to be fine,” you said, your grip on his hand tightening. Maybe you were trying to convince yourself of it just as much as him. “We’re all going to be fine.” You offered him a tiny, encouraging grin, needing things to not feel so serious right now. When he returned it, the corner of his lips quirking up in the ghost of his usual wide grin, you told yourself that it was just the beginning of… whatever this was. You weren’t going to think about the future right now, about everything that came after. For the moment, you were just glad to do this alongside him.

After all, once all of this was over, you’d have nothing but time.

#jacob custos x f!reader #jacob custos x fem!reader #jacob custos the quarry #jacob custos #jacob custos x reader #the quarry x reader #the quarry #the quarry fic #jacob custos fic

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bittersuitejacobs · 4 months ago

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• an unhealthy obsession • Nate Jacobs •

two. the slate cleaned

Summary: In which Ophelia spends the first day of school realising that she is both far more noticeable, and completely unrecognisable to friends and peers alike.

Warnings: obsessive behaviours & stalking.

A/N: 2422 words. this continues to be self indulgent and possibly messy, also just as a warning, but Ophelia is not necessarily a good person, the warnings for this chapter are about her. please let me know what you think!! :)

{ masterpost }

THE TAGLIST IS ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

So it continues with the pleated skirts and knee high socks and arms full of books and an air of sweetness.

They share several classes this semester - have for years, actually - but if anyone were to ask Nate, he would claim he'd never seen her before that semester started. Ophelia sits at the front of class now, tight sweater and hair in half-up pigtails, but quiet. The aesthetic change had little effect on her academics; she was a good student when she didn't care how she looked, she's still a good student now that she does. Except now she keeps her books in her arms, and backpack that was only really useful as an accessory, rather than in the large thing that had always clung to her before, which had always favoured function over form. The only real change would be her willingness to participate in class, eager to steal the class's attention and get them to notice her, notice the change.

Now, she smiles shyly when others talked to her, and her laugh is one she pretends she hasn't been practicing over summer; pretty, musical, dainty.

Befriending Jules, and by extension Rue, wasn't at all part of the plan, but it was a pleasant side effect. It had been a long time since she'd had a proper friend offline. Now she had two.

Jules is in her first class of the year; art. Initially she doesn't quite recognise Ophelia - something about the hair and the makeup and the shirt at the party seemed so different, she'd said - but lights up once Ophelia jogs her memory. When she asks about the bandage on Jules' arm, the blonde rolls her eyes, tells her about how some drunk asshole threatened her while Ophelia was in the bathroom, so she'd grabbed a knife and threatened him right back before making a spectacle of herself and practically fleeing.

"Rue patched me up, though," she giggled with a faint flush; Ophelia knows what the early stages of a crush looks like, and there's something endearing seeing it on Jules' face now.

Ophelia knows about Rue in kind of a nebulous way, which is the same way Ophelia knows about most people in her year. Bookish and desperate to keep her name out of people's mouths when she'd finally gotten to public school in junior high, and for the past two years of high school, she kept mostly to herself, and satisfied her need for a social life online. Even as she grew restless with that, started attending parties, started taking note of the people around her, she put the effort in to making sure they barely noticed her. These people she'd been in close proximity to were still arguably strangers to her.

But that was changing, and she was glad for it.

At lunch, Jules invites Ophelia along to join her and Rue. A proper meeting with someone she'd run into around school for several years, and sat silently beside at a handful of parties; all of which Rue was too high at to ever event notice her presence at all, which worked just fine for Ophelia at the time.

As if proving this point, Rue asks who she is when Jules waves her over, which only confuses the blonde.

"Lia, I told you I invited her to sit with us."

Rue squints up at Ophelia, who happens to know exactly how Rue looks across her various stages of being high, and knows she's seeing it again now.

"Are you new too?" Is the first thing she asks Ophelia, who's sliding onto the bench on Jules' other side. Ophelia shakes her head, Rue hums for a moment, "I kind of recognise you..."

"We used to share study periods on Thursdays," Ophelia prompts, not that she's sure Rue remembers. It's not as if they actually studied together; Ophelia studied, Rue... was there.

"Didn't you used to be a dirtbag?" Rue tips her head to the side, scrutinising Ophelia now. Ophelia, despite knowing that someone may notice, may make the connection and have questions, was still caught off guard.

"Dress like one? Sure," Ophelia shifted a little awkwardly, avoiding looking at Jules and her confused, silently questioning glance.

"Cool," Rue says nonchalantly after a beat, only adding to confirm her name; "Lia?" And Ophelia gave her a sunny smile, nodding.

The only things Ophelia can fit in her backpack are her lunch and her phone. Today, lunch meant two apples she'd bought that morning from the grocery on her way to school. It used to include a packet of chips, of a sleeve of Oreos, always something she could buy on her way, but forfeited them for the sake of her optics of her new look.

"Is that all you're having?" Jules seems concerned.

"I'll eat more when I get home," Ophelia assured. Food was an... uncomfortable situation for her; she always preferred eating at home nowadays. Jules doesn't exactly seem placated, but she leaves well enough alone.

The pep rally at lunch is enough to steal her focus, all of their focuses, actually. Its... a lot. Rue and Jules are caught up in their adjustment at how over the top it is, but Ophelia guides her gaze with intent. The coach and his enthusiasm. Maddie and the cheerleaders. The football team riling their peers up. Nate Jacobs, their captain.

For a moment, as his eyes roam the cafeteria, watching the sea of chaos as it ebbs and flows with the excited shouts of his teammates, his gaze catches on her. There's not even a flicker of recognition in his eyes before he's looking past her, to Jules and Rue, frowning. Ophelia pointedly turns her face, turns her eyes to the cheerleaders, to watch what she felt like she was supposed to, rather than to be caught staring at someone she wasn't.

She'd already been attending football games for most of the last semester, part of her pattern of observation, but she'd always kept close to the back of the stands, out of sight, out of mind. Starting this Friday, she'd make herself far more seen at events.

After lunch, and saying goodbye to Rue and Jules, Ophelia walks into her algebra class and takes the front row seat closest to the window. Others filter in behind her, and Ophelia watches them all with the most mild of interest, appearing to zone out more than anything else. Nate is one of the last ones in, with another footballer behind him, and Ophelia let's her gaze drift away so she doesn't look like she's staring. His gaze slides her her with a casual kind of disinterest, and Ophelia realises very suddenly that he has absolutely no recollection of who she is.

Good. A real fresh start.

Still that day afternoon she still takes the long way home out of habit, music in her ears as she follows the suburban streets. Nate's truck is outside his house when she stops past on her habitual detour; she wonders if he'd already dropped Maddie home, or if they were both here. Of course she could check; the backyard bordering on the Jacobs' residence was owned by a young, busy couple who both worked late, a side gate that was easy to scale, and a front door camera that was easy to avoid. But it didn't feel like something worth bothering with today, so she simply lingered a few houses away as she lit herself a cigarette, and continued the final half hour home.

Considering her change in style, she wondered if she could still keep up the routine she'd developed. Walking past his house wasn't the issue; even if he did see her, it's not like he knows where she lives, or that she's going out of her way for him. It was more that she'd taken to sitting under the bleachers after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays, smoking and sketching and pretending like she wasn't watching football practice. With the new persona she'd created for herself, it would seem out of character if she was seen skulking around behind the bleachers.

Beneath the bleachers was another place Ophelia used to see Rue, though she never stayed as long as Ophelia did. It's not as though they hung out; Ophelia kept to the side, trying to remain as unnoticed as possible, and she has a feeling she often succeeded -

"Ophelia? Lia?" While pondering her plans for that Tuesday afternoon, a voice brings her out of her thoughts during her study period, and Ophelia looks up to see Lexi Howard giving her a confused smile. Immediately, Ophelia beams; she's always been rather fond of Lexi, at least since she'd started high school. A year below Ophelia, but with an air of someone much wiser than anyone have her credit for, it wasn't long before they were friends. Lexi wasn't some vague, nebulous figure in Ophelia's life the way the rest of the school was, she was probably the only person Ophelia genuinely considered to be a good friend. Lexi laughed awkwardly, setting her bag down, "you... look different."

"New year, new me," Ophelia shrugged.

"Really new you," Lexi looked her over, still obviously trying to come to terms with Ophelia's new aesthetic, "I almost didn't recognise you; you look really good," she's quick to assure her. Ophelia ducks her gaze, laughing the compliment off as she asked her about her summer. Lexi seemed to relax at the question, thawing out as she chattered away about the break that had just passed. It hadn't been particularly eventful, apart from learning Rue had overdosed and spent the summer in rehab. Ophelia knew this; Lexi had called her the night she'd found out, and Ophelia had stayed on the call for hours in her hotel in Sweden, heart breaking for being too far away to give her friend proper support, or even a hug.

As much as Lexi had spent the summer worried about Rue, she still enjoyed the time away from school. Most of her time was spent either in her room, or with Cassie and her friends; they liked Lexi well enough, and Ophelia was at least glad she had people around her who were good to her.

They're catching each other up on the shows they'd been watching by the time the bell goes. When Lexi stands, she invites Ophelia over to her house.

"I need to know everything that happened in Sweden," she laughed, "I'm still not entirely convinced you didn't somehow get a concussion," she admits, "you still sound like you, but Lia, seriously, you look like a different person," at least she sounds fond, even if the confused concern is back in full force.

"I haven't got brain damage," Ophelia rolled her eyes, "I just wanted a change," she assured honestly. Lexi holds up her hands, placating, warmth still in her gaze as she lets it drop, insisting that she still wanted to hear about Ophelia's summer in Sweden.

"I'm staying back to do some drawing, work on my proportions and poses, but I'll come over after," it was a usual enough occurrence that Lexi nods, not asking any follow-up questions.

Which is how Ophelia finds herself walking back to Lexi's house with Cassie Howard after football practice. It wasn't on purpose; the cheerleaders also had practice on Tuesdays. From what she'd observed, the cheer team trained in the school's gym on Tuesdays and had the field on Wednesdays when it was free. Watching them on Wednesdays wasn't exactly a regular part of Ophelia's routine the way watching the footballers practice was, but she's no stranger to them. Maddie may not be the main focus of her observational habits, but that didn't mean there was no merit in trying to understand what Nate saw in her that meant he kept going back to her.

And the cheerleaders were talented athletes in their own right; more than a few pages in her art journals were dedicated to trying to capture their graceful, dynamic movements. The cheerleaders actually made far more interesting subjects in that respect.

More than once over the past year, Ophelia had considered trying out for the team. She could probably make it; months spent atrophying in a hospital bed at fourteen had lead to extensive physical therapy, and after years of feeling weak and sickly as a child meant it felt good to move her body like that. Exercise had become a big part of her routine in the last few years, not that anyone would suspect it just by looking at her. But she'd always eventually dismissed the idea. She was sure Nate liked that Maddie was a cheerleader, but she didn't think he liked her because she was one, and Ophelia didn't want to draw any unnecessary comparisons if she didn't have to. If he was going to want her, she didn't want it to be because she reminded him of Maddie.

"I feel like I know you from somewhere," Cassie's voice is surprisingly close behind Ophelia when they're a few blocks from the school, and Ophelia gives a start. It's not the first time they'd technically walked back to Cassie's house like this considering their routines, but it's the first time Cassie's spoken to her. Yes, Cassie does know her, but only as one of her little sister's weird friends.

"Yeah," Ophelia gives an awkward laugh, "we're in the same homeroom, Cassie."

"Oh," Cassie frowns, trotting a little quicker to fall into step beside Ophelia. She's still in her cheer uniform, obviously not having bothered to change after practice. It's a good look on her, "right," as she looks at Ophelia for a long moment, it starts to dawn on her, "wait, aren't you Lexi's friend? You're not in my grade, are you?" At least she's smiling, even if it's disbelieving.

"I've been in your grade since we started high school," but Ophelia let's herself smile as Cassie laughs.

"Shut up, no you're not!" She grins widely, "Lia?"

"I've been to your house many times, Cassie," Ophelia reminds her, and Cassie shakes her head.

"Not looking like this you haven't!" She insisted, "you used to be all emo, didn't you?"

"I'm trying something new."

"Clearly," Cassie looked her over, as if evaluating her, "you're like, really pretty, this is so weird," she finally decided on, meeting Ophelia's waiting gaze with a warm smile.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Ophelia laughed, and Cassie gestured broadly to her.

"Look at you!"

"I'm still me," Ophelia insisted with a sheepish smile, heart growing warm with the praise, finding herself genuinely enjoying the company on the walk, "I'm just more noticeable now."

#nate jacobs imagine #nate jacobs x oc #nate jacobs x original character #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs fanfic #euphoria x original character #euphoria x oc #euphoria original character #euphoria oc #euphoria imagine #auo #euphoria x reader

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heyitsmelouiss · 6 months ago

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Screening story time!

This will be a bit of a ramble so skim as you please😂

So I got there about an hour earlier than we needed to be. Starting off even waiting in line was fun because I got to talking with another fan who mentioned that she spontaneously bought tickets all the way from Florida just to be here for the screening and she had work the next day!😂🤦🏾‍♀️ shout out to Makayla. it was fun talking to you! but after about an hour we finally went in the building and got seated and they handed out paper at the door so you could write questions! My question was “ if you could hand Louis an album for a bad break up what would it be?” they didn’t answer my question.😂 Buuuutt my friend asked “what TV show would your character binge” and they answered hers!! But after a few minutes, the new episode played and WOWW it was really good guys. A lot different from what I thought it would be, but still really good. You guys are going to really love Delainey’s Claudia🥹 the panel was really good too. It’s funny because all of these amazing, incredible actors all seem kind of shy. Obviously it’s quite intimidating to be in front of a crowd that Sam kept mentioning that he wasn’t able to see any of our faces.(in the middle they did turn on the lights for them) but they were all pretty shy it was cute. Then after the panel, everyone obviously rushes to the stage. I didn’t get a chance to even get close but outside when they came out, I got to interact with Jacob and Sam! I asked Sam a couple questions that he said we’re too hard basically😂 and I genuinely got starstruck by Jacob. I don’t know what happened. I just lost all words. I’m not even kidding. I’m kind of disappointed in myself because I had so much to ask him, but I managed to ask for a hi five🥲 they were both really sweet and took so much time trying to get to everybody. next time I go to something like this. Hopefully I’ll be more prepared.🥹

10/10 would recommend

Couple of bad photos below and maybe I’ll post the clips later

#oh to be within jams gaze #my hands were like trembling #they’re super sweet I wish we had more of an interaction but I’m so grateful for what I even got #his hand was so soft if you were wondering lol is that weird #jacob anderson #sam reid #interview with the vampire #iwtv series

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viridianstarlight · 6 months ago

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Do you know who you are?

To the world these days, or at least my generation and younger, personal identity matters a whole lot to people.And to these same people, your identity can be whatever you want it to be.

You are identified by your gender, and they say your gender can be whatever you want on any day.

You are identified by your sexuality and relationship status.

You are identified by the colour of your skin.

You are identified by your job.

There’s more, but I think you get the idea.

So in the eyes of these people, I am male, straight and single, white, and a cafe worker. But I don’t really think that describes ‘Cory’.

But we Christians have a different view of identity. Here’s what the Bible says about who we are.

Psalm 139: 15-16 My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.

To start with, God knows exactly who you are. He knows everything there is to know about you. So if anyone can show you who you are, it is God.

1 John 3: 1 See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know Him.

We are called God’s children. We are adopted in to the King’s family.

Romans 8:16-18 Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in His sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory.

By being adopted in to the King’s family, we are made co-heirs with Christ, sharing in His sufferings and glory.

Isaiah 43:1 But now, this is what the Lord says— He who created you, Jacob, He who formed you, Israel: “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine.

We belong to God.

Romans 6:6 This righteousness is given through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe.

Thanks to Christ’s death and resurrection, our faith in Him clothes us in His righteousness and redeems us of our sins. God looks upon us and sees the perfection of Christ.

Ephesians 2:10 For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.

God is perfect, and so is everything He creates. God does not make mistakes. You are His masterpiece, the crowning reflection of His perfect creativity.

1 Corinthians 6:19 Don’t you realize that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who lives in you and was given to you by God?

Your body is a holy space where God dwells.

Ephesians 1: 4 Even before He made the world, God loved us and chose us in Christ to be holy and without fault in His eyes.

God created the world in the first chapter of Genesis, and even before then, He knew you perfectly and has loved you perfectly since then.

1 Corinthians 12: 27 Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.

You belong as part of something greater than yourself, and you cannot function to your greatest potential separate to the body.

You were created to do things that other parts of the body cannot do, and you were created to benefit the body just as other parts were created to benefit you.

1 Peter 2:9 But you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light.

You are a royal priest of the King. In the old testament, only the high priests could enter the holy of holies within God’s temple. But we, belonging totally to God and being chosen by Him, can enter the presence of God at any time.

And this is all thanks to Christ leaving heaven to become a man, taking our sin to the cross and dying in our place, taking our judgement, and in return sharing His righteousness with us.

Do you know who you are? God does.

#to speak of kings and stars #i did communion at church this afternoon #and this was most of the message i gave #it ended up tying directly in to the sermon #even though i had no input on the sermon at all

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prettypinkporkchop · 8 days ago

Note

What about Quil and his imprint having their first huge argument? Like staying at different houses, not speaking argument!

Loved the last one!!

Xoxo

You slam your empty wallet down and sigh. You grab your phone and call Quil.

"Hey! This is Quil! Leave a heartfelt message because I'm hotter than Jake."

You roll your eyes and put your phone down on the counter. You are angry! You told Quil not to take the cash you pulled out. Yes, it's both of your money, but he's been spending it on crap. You two are trying to save for a new house, and for a new car. But today, you have a doctor's appointment. (If you see a doctor for any reason, use that.) You took out cash for it, and now, it's gone.

You phone who you believe Quil would be with, because no, he's not patrolling today.

"Wassuhhh?" Jacob yells.

"Where's Quil?" You ask.

"We are currently at the casino." Jacob laughs.

----

Quil opens the bedroom door and plops on the bed beside you. You feel the bouncing but you refuse to turn and look at him.

"Baby.." He drags out and touches your waist.

You can't help it. You start to get emotional. Does nothing you two dream of mean anything to him? The house, car, kids? You sniffle quietly.

"Baby?" He grabs your side and pulls you down so you're on your back.

A tear slips down the side of your eye and to your temple. "I'm just so mad. I'm so mad I'm crying." You whisper.

He cocks his head in confusion. "What's wrong?" He asks.

"You!" You sit up and push him back.

He looks at you in shock. "The fuck did I do?!" He yells.

His yelling and attitude made you even more angry. But the fact that he's playing dumb is making you feral. He knows. This will be the third confrontation.

You scream in aggravation and then walk out of the room, slamming the door behind you.

He's quick to follow you. "If it's the money again, I'm going to be very pissed off." He says.

"Quil! You promised me our dream life. Fuck, dude! This house is falling apart. Your truck breaks down when it goes to 60. My car is almost 20 years old!" You scream and then bend down to put on your shoes.

Quil grabs your wrist. "What we have is fine! I told you we'd get there eventually!" He let's you go. "Baby, I'm keeping my promises!" He screams back, pointing at his chest.

You start to cry even harder. "You took the money I told you not to. Remember why?" You cross your arms and stare at him.

He thinks for a second, but then his eyes widen. "Shit." He mutters.

You laugh and uncross your arms, nodding your head. "Yeah. Shit. I'm leaving." You put on your shoes.

Quil stands there watching you, ashamed of himself.

"But remember, Ateara." You grab the keys off the wall, "it's not just about today. It's the shit you promised me, you spending money behind my back." You continue.

He sighs and then takes a step forward. "Yeah, and you promised me fun in our relationship. Look at you, constantly worried about money. Working extra hours just to stay away from me. If you're home, you sit on your phone."

You nod your head. "I guess we'll be better off without each other then."

"What? You're breaking up with me?!" He yells.

"No. We need space."

----

Your eyes shoot up for the fifteenth time this night. You look around the guest room in Emily's house. It's cold and lonely. You roll over and check your phone. Still nothing. You sigh and drop your phone on the bed. It bounces and hits the floor.

"Shit." You hiss.

It's a small house. Not only that, but you're here with an alpha. He's always on guard. You know a whisper could catch his attention. As you expected, a few knocks.

"Come in." You say.

It slowly creaks open, and the hallway light shines through. You see Sam peaking in, hiding behind the door.

"Is everything okay?" He asks, not entering the room.

You chuckle and sigh. "Yeah, everything is good. I just dropped my phone." You reply and then sit up.

"Oh, okay. Do you need anything? Hot tea?" He fully opens the door.

You stand up and stretch, giving up on sleep. "I'll go make me something. You can go back to bed." You smile and yawn.

"I never take orders." He chuckles. "Besides, you seem like you need someone to talk to. I know Quil like the back of my hand." He backs away from the door to let you out of the room.

You smile, shaking your head and walking past him and into the kitchen. You go through the cabinet where Emily puts her teas and drink mixes.

Sam grunts, sitting down on a chair at the table. "So, what happened?" He asks.

"Well, your wonderful wolf doesn't know how to grow up." You reply, making the drink you chose.

"Mm. None of us really do." He starts chuckling.

"Yeah. But there's a difference in being childlike and being stupid. Quil is stupid. Paul doesn't do the things Quil does! Neither does Jared. You, even!" You finish making your drink and sit at the table.

"That's true. But there are things that Quil does that you love that we don't do." Sam smirks.

He's right. Quil knows how to pull your hair up in a ponytail or bun when you're sick. He makes you laugh the most. He let's you do small things that you notice Rachel nor Kim do with their guys. That's because Quil lets you. Quil loves you.

"Did I open a new perspective?" Sam asks, knocking you out of your thoughts.

"Yes, actually." You sigh.

"Well, then, how about you go talk to him?"

"No." You deadpan. "He needs to realize how dumb he has been. It's what got us here now." You sip your drink.

Sam nods and then smiles. "He says the same thing."

You cough and look up at him in shock. "What shit has he been talking?" You wipe your mouth with your hand.

"More like his thoughts from last night during patrol. He says you're in the wrong and is trying to prove a point." Sam stops, looking away and then back at you. "But he won't shut up about how bad he loves you and wants you back."

-----

Everyone is having a picnic in the forest besides you. You are off at work, doing your own thing.

Sam thumps Quil on the back of the head.

"Ow!" Quil faces Sam. "What the hell?"

"I'm tired of hearing your head. Just so you know, I've heard both sides. You are the one who needs to do the talking first." Sam points a finger in his face.

"Now, now. It's between them." Emily says, patting his wrist.

"It affects all of us." Embry butt's in.

Quil groans and falls backward, his head landing on Rachel's sandwhich.

"Damn it, kid!" She hisses.

"Yeah, just like that!" Paul points, nodding his head in agreement to Embry.

----

You close the washing machine in your house to wash your clothes and pack some more. You're trying to move as fast as you can just in case Quil comes back. You have no clue where he is. You sit on your bed, waiting for the laundry to finish. You miss your bed. It's so comfortable.

After a while, you're finished with the laundry, so you head back to Emily's. You feel bad and feel like an inconvenience to her and Sam. But you've been doing chores and helping Emily a lot the last four days.

You put your bag on the bed and sigh. You sit on the bed and look down at the ground. You can't stop thinking of everything.

The door opens, and you look up just to make eye contact with your boyfriend.

"What?" You hiss.

"Can we talk?" He asks.

"Sure. Have you cooled down?" You move your bag to the floor, giving him room to sit.

He sighs and walks in, plopping beside you. "I have."

You lean your head over on his shoulder. This warmth has been gone for too long. You breathe in his scent and he wraps his fingers in yours.

"Babe, I'm sorry. I really am. I can explain everything to you." He says.

"Get to talking." You mumble, staying in your spot.

"I have been saving money. I didn't want to tell you this because I wanted it to be a surprise. But you're always so cranky with me and seem uninterested that it pushes me away. I even began to question if I should keep the surprise." He sighs.

You look up at him with confusion on your face. "What do you mean? You've spent everything on stupid shit. How could I not get upset with you?" You blink.

"Babe, I got a raise at work. Me, Jake, Embry, and Seth have been building our dream home. It'll be done soon. I've been spending some money on some things for you in our house. Like, bathroom organizers, decor." Every word he spills makes you feel even guiltier. "I didn't want to tell you because when the house is finished and we can move in, it'd be your birthday." He continues.

You start shedding a few tears. "Now I feel like a total asshole." You sniffle and look away from him.

"No, don't. I was acting really stupid. And that money I took from your wallet, I was at the casino. I had forgotten about your appointment and I'm so sorry about that." He takes your chin and makes you look at him. "Baby, can you forgive me?" He asks.

You wipe your face and nose and then giggle, "I guess."

He grabs your things, carrying them to his truck. You get inside, and he begins to drive. He's driving near the beach. Your heart is pounding!

He goes through this small trail in the woods. It looks like they've been working on clearing this land. Off in the distance, you see the exact outside of the house that you've been dreaming about. You gasp and cover your mouth.

"Quil!" You gush.

He chuckles and parks the truck. "You like?"

You turn to him with wide eyes. "Like?! I love it!" You scream and then wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in.

He closes his eyes, missing your touch and scent. His hand touches your lower back, holding onto you.

You get an amazing idea! You pull away from him and look into his eyes with a smirk. "You thinking what I'm thinking?" You giggle.

He breathes out and blushes. "Maybe. I think." He chuckles.

"Let's fuck inside our new home."

He's quick to move the console up and push you against the door. His lips attach themselves on yours. He's hungry for you, and you are for him. You nibble on his bottom lip before you both glide your tongues against each other's. Your fingers make their way to his dark curls, and you pull on them. You start to notice his hard against your inner thigh.

"Come on." You mumble in the kiss.

- AFTER THAT (SORRY) -

You lay on the cold floor that is soon to be the living room. You're out of breath and underneath Quil's arm. He's on his back like you, but he turns on his side to face you, keeping his arm under your head. You giggle and then cover your red and sweating face.

"You came hard, babe." He chuckles and presses kisses along your jaw.

"Phew. Yeah. Yeah, I did." You breathe out. You grab your phone that's on your clothes next to you. "Holy shit. We went for two hours."

He laughs and then touches your cheek, pulling your face to his. "That's how I work." He says lowly before kissing you.

#twilight #embry call #jacob black #jared cameron #paul lahote #sam uley #seth clearwater #twilight wolfpack #leah clearwater #quil ateara #quil ateara x reader

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