#i had on three jackets and 2 blankets and still felt cold

[mannaima]

My Best Friend Joel (part two)

Long awaited part 2!!!

(part one)

Summary: After having nobody else to turn to, you turn to the only person in your life you can trust.

Word count: 3.2K

Warnings: nsfw SMUT (18+), age gap (reader is 19 and Joel is 56), joel calls reader a whore (bc hes horny sorry), pretty tame stuff.

It had been five days since you last saw Joel, since you last made him cum, every day dragging on longer than the last. The first day you had waited in your bedroom, already dressed when your dad had left. The entire day up until curfew you paced around your apartment, excusing why he was late.

“Maybe he had to work today.”

“He wanted to sleep in.”

“He’s doing business.”

The second day, you still got dressed, but you waited right in front of the door, waiting for three knocks to indicate it was him. Still, nothing. You were very confused, he had hung out with you every single day for almost a week, he would tell you everything he was gonna do, but why would he just leave you now? You shook your head, it was only two days, what were you so worried about?

By the third day, you didn’t get dressed, in fact, you didn’t get up at all. You laid in your bed stroking the doll that Joel had bought you. Tears were now forcing themselves out of your eyes, your cold hand wiping them away. Did you do something wrong when you made him cum? Did he not like it? You didn’t enjoy this feeling, you felt so empty without Joel. You buried your face in your pillow and let out soft sobs.

The fourth day was a blur, more crying, more holding the doll and you didn’t even bother to leave your bed. The fifth day you stared at the ceiling. You felt so alone, not realizing how much having a friend made you feel complete. How much Joel made you feel complete. You shook your head, wanting to feel better, wanting Joel to kiss you. The air in the room was cold, but you didn’t bother to put on a blanket. You felt as if you deserved to feel uncomfortable, maybe Joel left you because you weren’t normal. You let yourself ponder and create false scenarios for hours until a harsh pounding came from your front door. It was the secret knock. You glanced at the clock, yep, it was your father.

Finally getting up to open the door for him, you were pushed back by the force of the door once the last lock was undone.

“What the FUCK did I tell you?!” Your father screamed at you, slamming the door behind him as he grabbed a hold of your shirt collar. You were terrified, your father had never looked so angry in his life.

“W-wha-” A harsh smack to your face made your head turn and your ears ring. You had shut up.

“Why the fuck did another officer tell me they saw YOU with grown man. OUTSIDE!” Tears had welled up in your eyes as you looked up at him, cowering in fear as he hit you again.

“I didn’t want to believe it. So I asked around. And it’s fucking true. After all I do to protect you, why would you disobey me?!”

“Dad I-”

“No! That’s it. It would’ve been fine if it was a one time thing. But for a whole week? You were out with a fucking criminal!” You shook your head, ‘Joel isn’t a criminal’ your head screamed ‘Joel’s a good man!” 

“I’m s-sor-” He pushed you back, your back hitting the wall with a thud. 

“That’s it. Grab all the shit you can, you’re out of here.” Your eyes widened at his words. No. He couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t.

“Dad please. Please d-”

“No! You wanted to be outside so fucking bad, well, now you can! For the rest of your life! Get fucking killed by the infected for all I care, since you clearly don’t care about it!” He screamed in your face, tears streaming down your face. You didn’t want to believe it, you didn’t want to accept this was it. But as he dragged you to your room, the reality faced you. This was the last day you were going to be home. Small sobs and hiccups left your body as you shoved what little you had into a backpack. You wore two jackets, your backpack too small to fit it all. Slipping on shoes and a beanie, you grabbed one last thing before leaving. The doll Joel bought you. You cried as you held it close to you. Giving your father one last look, he scoffed at you.

“And don’t you ever fucking come back!” He slammed the door behind you, your heart thumping out of your chest as you walked down the steps. You had never felt so sick before, your tears coating your cold cheeks as the large world didn’t feel so freeing anymore. There was only one person in mind as you walked along the depressing streets.

Joel.

—-------

With tears streaming down your face, you knocked on Joel’s door desperately, not caring how loud your whines were.

“Joel… Joel please… Joellll.” You knocked, almost dropping the doll with each light knock to his door. You wiped your tears and snot that ran down your face, and your eyes lit with relief as the door clicked. He opened the door and you wasted no time hugging him, burying your face in his chest.

“Joel… Oh Joel. I missed you… Please don’t leave me.” You sobbed into his chest, his arms still up in surprise. 

“Hey…Hey… I’m right here sweetie. Shhh.” He rubbed circles on your upper back, taking notice of your backpack and disheveled appearance. He slowly pulled you inside, locking the door behind him while he pulled you back to get on his knees, to get eye level with you.

“What happened sweetheart?” You began to tell him through hiccups and sobs what your father did to you, how scared you were. He comforted you, wiping your tears with his large thumb and pushing your hair out of your face.

“Fucking bastard.” He muttered under his breath, he was genuinely angry at your father for just dumping you on the streets, leaving you to die.

“Here, give me your things.” He began to slip off your backpack, and you let him. He placed them in his bedroom, and you slipped off your jackets and beanie.

“Joel…” You whined, looking at him.

“What happened sweetheart?” 

“Why… Why did you leave me? Did I do something wrong?” You looked up at him, and Joel swore he felt his heart break. His heart twisted seeing your puffy red eyes filled with tears, red nose dripping with snot, and quivering lips. He wanted to shoot himself for making you feel this way.

“No, of course not baby. I just….” He didn’t know how to put it, how to tell you. “I’m. I’m not a good man.”

“Of course you are Joel-”

“No. I’ve killed people. I’m not a good person. I’m a bad guy. I’ve been doing some… not so savory things these past few days. So, I’m sorry I haven’t visited. I’m sorry, angel.” You walked over to him, and wrapped your arms around his, as much as you could, at least.

“I don’t think you’re a bad guy joel…” You mumbled into his chest as he pet your hair, a smile over his face as he held you close to him. You both stayed that way for a while, hearing his heartbeat in his chest while you laid your head on him, feeling so safe and at peace. The world just seemed to stop when you were with him, you almost forgot about the fact you were basically homeless.

“C’mon sweetie, I bet you’re tired.” He kept petting your hair as you nodded, you weren’t really tired, but you just wanted to make Joel happy. He slowly pulled you back and held your hand while leading you to the bedroom, rubbing small circles into your palm.

“Let’s get to bed, baby.” He kissed your forehead and began to remove his garments. Your face was flushed, you couldn’t see him well in the dimming room, the sun’s light slowly fading away. You slipped off your pants, kicking them off your legs before folding them and tucking it in the corner. You didn’t know whether to keep your bra on, but you did just to be safe. You looked over and Joel had his shirt off, his large chest visible, your eyes averting his gaze.

“Come here…” His voice felt much deeper, much more breathy too. You responded with a small ‘okay’ and walked to him, eyes on the floor. He had a small smile on his face as pulled back the sheets to let you in first, taking in how your ass looked in black panties. You crawled over and laid down in the cold bed, shivering under the sheets.

Joel slipped next to you, having a lot of body heat, the bed immediately heating up.

“You’re so warm, Joel…” You rubbed the spot near him, a small sliver of warmth.

“Get closer then…” He said, arm going up, allowing you to rest your head on his chest while his arm was around you. You did just that, feeling so warm next to him, your body instinctively burying close to him.

“That’s a lot better.” You laughed out, making him chuckle as he looked down at you, his eyes showing a great load of love to you. His large hand slowly moving down and rubbing your shoulder, making you close your eyes as you felt very comfortable. Joel’s hands never stopped rubbing you, in fact, his hands moved slower down your body, until his hand was grazing your breast. He restrained himself and simply laid his hand on your breast, rather than grabbing it with the force he wanted to.

“Hey sweetie.”

“Yeah Joel?”

“Do you remember how you asked if you could cum?” You gave him a light ‘mhmm.’ “Do you wanna try right now?” You lit up at this idea. You were so curious and eager to get closer to Joel.

“Y-Yeah. How do I do that?”

“Oh you don’t have to do anything sweetheart.” You felt tingles in the way his deep southern voice ringed in your ears, squirming slightly. His left hand, still around your shoulder, began to grope your breast, making you squeak out in shock. His other hand moved to your belly, his large hand making you flinch as it moved down.

“You feeling alright, sweetheart?” His voice was deep in your ear, you whimpered and bit your lip.

“Y-yeah.” His hand continued to move further until his middle finger was right on your clit, making you jump. Joel chuckled, and his hand began to rub the pearl. You moaned out, and his hand moved from your breast to your mouth, his fingers now sliding on your tongue.

“I’ve barely done anything and you’re already acting like a whore.” You winced at his words, but you couldn’t stop the noises coming from your mouth as his fingers played against your clit. Moans became breathy as his fingers pressed deeper in your mouth, saliva coating his ring and middle finger.

“Suck on ‘em.” He ordered you, and you quickly closed your mouth to suck on his fingers, your cheeks hollowing in on them. They were so large, you couldn’t help but feel so aroused, it reminded you of when you had made him cum before, so you wanted to please him like you did them. His skilled fingers were still rubbing against your clit, your hands gripping the sheets with every circle he planted against it. Joel suddenly removed his fingers from your mouth, a ‘pop’ sound releasing from your lips, and a trail of saliva following it. 

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re so good to me, baby.” It was like his voice brought a shock of electricity throughout your body, you couldn’t handle the way he called you nicknames. The hand he was using to rub your clit now removed itself, making you groan, but your panties were suddenly pulled down beyond your thighs. Joel’s fingers, now wet, moved down and began to rub against your entrance.

“Joel!” You jolted from the feeling, and his warm hands made you feel something you never felt before. They slowly began to slip in, the aid of your saliva and your growing arousal creating slickness. He chuckled at your reaction and pushed his two fingers further, your pussy stretching out as he deepend it.

“You like it?” You moaned out and tried your best to form words. You could only let out an ‘mhmmm’ in a breathy moan before he was knuckles deep.

“Look at you, being able to take both my fingers in, so deep too. Such a good girl…” Joel’s fingers slowly moved back out, your walls still clenching as he removed most of his fingers, the tips of them just barely staying. He suddenly pushed them all the way back in, your moans breathy and your breath unstable. He pumped them in and out of you, going through variations of fast and slow, just to tease you.

“Joel… I feel funny…” His fingers continued to move, but his other hand pushed your face close to his.

“Not yet sweetie.” His fingers then pulled out of you, leaving you whimpering in a puddle of your own juices. You didn’t have much time to recover, however, as Joel was suddenly on top of you, one hand on the side of you, the other pulling down his pants.

“Look what you do to me baby…” You looked down to see his cock out, hard and throbbing. There was precum leaking from the tip, and you couldn’t help but feel flustered. Maybe it was just your imagination, but you couldn’t help but think he looked harder than he did your first time seeing it. 

His hand now grabbed your leg, pulling you close to him, you felt so small underneath him. His breathing was heavy, his chest moving up and down. His hands played with his cock, and moved the tip to be right up against your entrance.

“If it hurts, tell me baby.” He slowly pushed against it, your moans turning into groans of pain. You felt very stretched out, despite the amount of lubricant.

“J-Joel. H-Hurts.” He immediately stopped. Joel looked down and saw he was barely halfway inside your cunt, his cock twitching at the sight of that. You were so cute, whimpering in pain, it made him want to just fuck you already. But he wanted to be patient, he didn’t want to make you untrustworthy of him, but fuck did you look so hot when you wanted to cry.

“It’s okay baby, I’m right here.” His southern drawl made you warm with comfort, his head coming down closer to you to kiss you on the forehead. He pet your hair, trying to make you as comfortable as you could be, despite the pain. He stayed like that, cock growing impatient as it twitched, hoping you would give him the green light.

“I-I think… You can move now…” He nodded and began to push more, your whimpers of pain coming out your lips once more. Maybe Joel was too frustrated, or maybe it was just an impulsive thought come to life, but his next actions were questionable. He covered your mouth with his large hand, and sharply thrusted into you, his entire cock now filling your pussy. Obviously, you screamed in pain, but it was muffled by his hand. He realized his mistake and uncovered your mouth and began to kiss your face, still balls deep in you.

“I’m sorry baby, I don’t know what got into me. I’m sorry.” He whispered between kisses, small tears leaving your eyes as they shut in agony. You both stayed in this position for a little while, before Joel stroked your cheek.

“Can I move again sweetie? I promise I’ll be gentle.” After a few moments of silence, you nodded, a small smile appearing on Joel’s face. He was on his knees, and he pulled your torso close to him. He began to thrust into you at a slow and steady pace, making sure not to exit your pussy all the way. Your whimpers were a mix of pain and pleasure, your hands gripping the sheets.

“Joel… Feels so good.”

“Yeah baby?” His face was already covered in sweat, some pieces of hair sticking to his forehead. You nodded and kept your eyes shut. He thrust into you more, your pussy feeling so full. The room was now filled with your whimpers and moans, and Joel’s groans and small ‘fuck’s. Joel's hands grabbed the fat of your ass, pushing you closer to him, your body essentially being used as a fuck toy by Joel. He was groaning, using you much faster than what should’ve been gentle. Joel then pulled out of you, and grabbed your sides, flipping you over. You were confused, his hands moving up your ass slightly, before you felt the familar feeling of the tip rubbing against the entrance. You had no time to prepare before he entered you once again, this time, pushing his entire cock in you at once. You moaned at the pain mixed with pleasure, the position change causing a different feeling in the pit of your stomach. Joel’s thrusts were so powerful, you couldn’t handle it, the sound of your ass slapping against his lower stomach filling the room.

“J-Joel!” He moved closer to you, his lips kissing your neck as his cock continued to pound inside of your walls. 

“You like it? You like my big fucking cock?”

“Yes Joel! It feels so good!” You’ve never felt this good in your life, you continued the loud sounds coming out your mouth. Joel’s ego was filled, but he wanted the first time you came to be the best time in your life. His hands moved underneath you, and began to rub your clit. Your moans became animalistic at this point, eyes rolling back as you felt overstimulated.

“Joel! Joel…Joel I feel so good. Pleaseeeee.” You whined, you didn’t know what you were whining for, but you felt that feeling in your stomach once more. 

“Yeah. Cum for me sweetheart, let me feel you cum on my cock.” You buried your face into the pillow, face feeling so hot you couldn’t handle it. You felt closer and closer to the edge before you released, and you felt the best pleasure you had in your life. Joel felt your pussy clamp his dick so tightly, he could barely move as you moaned in pleasure, body twitching slightly. The mixture of just watching you cum around him and the actual feeling of it brought him over the edge, as your orgasm was ending, Joel’s began. His cock spurt strings of cum inside you, covering your wall, and you felt it. He squeezed your ass as he came, his body slouching over yours in exhaustion and pure ecstasy from his orgasm. You both stayed in this position, sweaty, heavy breathing and recovering from how you came. Joel made the first move and his cock slowly exited your pussy, droplets of cum flowing out, making him groan at the sight. As he pulled out and put his cock back into his pants, he curled up next to your sweaty and tired body. There were no words to be exchanged, both of you far too tired to say anything. But one realization suddenly popped up in the back of Joel’s mind.

He had cum inside of you.

[klausinamarink]

his lips still blue

rating: T | cw: hypothermia, supposed character death | tags: established relationship, supernatural/horror vibes | wc: 948

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | Dec 2: Came Back Wrong

—

Three days.

Steve was missing for three days and everyone already thought about the worst case scenario. Eddie blamed Chief Hopper for quelshing their hopes for pointing out how the recent snowstorm delaying the search was covering Steve’s tracks. Even Robin had bit her lip in thought so hard that it bled.

But Eddie refused to think about it. He didn’t even dare to let any of those thoughts contaminate the hope he kept nurturing in his chest. Because Steve always survived the toughest shit, no matter how bizarre it may be. A brutal fist fight with three men? He apologized about getting his sweater ruined despite his concussion and bleeding face. A wild bear attack that nearly took Will Byers? Steve was more worried about the kid than himself. Freak mall fires? He worried that Eddie would be mad at him for missing their anniversary date while being treated for third degree burns on his sides.

Getting lost in the woods and three and half feet of falling snow? He had to come back with an embarrassed smile and frostbite in his fingers and toes.

Eddie clutched the blankets tighter around him. He stared out the window for so long that his eyes ached. But he worried that if he looked away, even for just a minute, then Steve would be lost for good and wander endlessly. It was a silly superstition, but Eddie was a beggar at this point.

He shivered, the blankets barely substituting his husband’s steady warmth. He should probably make some tea but what’s a cup of tea going to do in bringing Steve back?

Knock. Knock.

Eddie startled, his gaze breaking away towards the front door. He gave out a sigh, got up from the couch, and shuffled towards it. Already the small hearth of hope in his chest is sputtering out with the image of Hopper giving the dreaded news. He burned that away as soon as it popped into his head.

“What is-” The words died in his mouth just as Eddie opened the door.

Steve stared back at him. His hat and gloves were missing, his jacket was partially covered with snow, and his lips were a startling blue. Alive.

Eddie immediately threw his arms around his husband, weeping and kissing him in relief without a care of how cold Steve’s lips felt.

—

It took another few days for the hospital to allow Steve’s discharge. Despite the waning hypothermia and everyone’s prodding, Steve hadn’t explained the story of his absence. Only that he had been trekking through the woods as usual and… nothing.

Doctors presumed it might’ve been some traumatic amnesia from exposure. Honestly, Eddie couldn’t care less. He was just fucking glad Steve was back.

Steve was quiet on the way back. Eddie tried not to overwhelm him with his own questions, but kept him in a massive blanket pile. Steve was still horribly cold despite the heaters. It was a surprise that he wasn’t shivering either.

“I made you tea,” Eddie pushed a warm cup to his hands. He tried not to frown at how oddly chilly they felt. “Peppermint with honey and shredded cinnamon - your favourite.”

Steve just blinked down at the cup. His lips, once flushed back to color at the hospital, were paled into a bluish tint. He set the cup back down on the table. “I don’t want it.”

“You should really drink something warm, sweetheart. You’ve been outside for-”

“I like it cold.”

Eddie blinked. Waited for Steve to elaborate but instead his husband turned his eyes towards the same window Eddie had been looking out during the three days of hell.

Finally, Eddie sighed. Tugged Steve up by his hand, still cold against his own warm palms. “Let’s go to bed, sweetheart.”

He tucked in Steve extra diligently with another blanket and laid right next to him. It felt strange - his husband back to his side yet his usual warmth was barely radiating off his body. It worried Eddie and he made a mental note to go to the hospital in the morning if Steve’s body heat stayed like this.

Eddie thumbed lightly over Steve’s lips, still in that bluish tint. That worried him too. He whispered, “What happened out there, sweetheart?”

Steve said, “I like it cold.”

Somehow, Eddie fell asleep.

—

Eddie woke up with a violent shiver. He blinked rapidly, vision adjusting to the dark. Once it did, he saw that the bedroom windows were wide open, letting in gusts of flurries.

He cursed, his hand reaching out automatically to Steve-

It patted on a cold, flat blanket instead.

Eddie was quick to jump out of bed, calling out Steve’s name. The entire cold was freezing and every window was open. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the front door was open, exposing the view to the woods where a trail of footprints led there.

He hurriedly put on his warmest jacket and boots as he rushed outside. The crunching of snow seemed to echo louder than calling out Steve’s name.

He kept his eyes on the footprints, sucking in frigid air into his lungs as he ran.

His hands felt numb already. He put the gloves on, had he?

Eddie licked his lips once, wincing at the chapness.

He stumbled over something and fell into the snow. It bit through his face, stung it to one expression as Eddie lifted his head up.

Steve was in front of him. His hands were already on Eddie’s cheeks, thumbing away the snow. Then he leaned his head in.

Eddie only caught a glimpse of his still-blue lips before his eyes shuttered shut at the much-needed warmth.

[chiharuuu22]

Home

Part 1: I Want to Go Home

Part 2: Take Me Home

Part 3: Welcome Home!

Part 4: I'm Home

PART 3: WELCOME HOME!

The Team Leader gave Whumpee and three other members a special task, namely to rest until they recovered. This task actually sounds funny because up to now, Whumpee and the other three members are not allowed to know the progress of their case with Whumper.

Whumpee didn't think too much about it; he believed the Team Leader and Caretaker who said Whumper wouldn't be able to bother them anymore. After all, they are always honest.

It took time for Whumpee's condition to improve. Even though it's slow, at least Whumpee is showing improvement day by day. Of course, this made Whumpee stay in the hospital longer than the other three members.

Until finally, Whumpee was released from the hospital today.

Caretaker hummed happily as she brushed the hair of Whumpee who was sitting on the edge of the bed. Caretaker even jumped up and down a little when she took the moisturizing cream from her makeup pouch which she then rubbed onto Whumpee's face. Whumpee was happy to see Caretaker happy, so he just let Caretaker do it.

"Okay, everything is in the bag. Just put on a jacket, then we'll go home!" Caretaker shouted, putting on Whumpee's thick jacket.

Whumpee smiled and nodded. Finally, after so long, he could return home too. He missed the house he had left for a long time.

"Well, hold on to me," Caretaker said. Whumpee put his arm around Caretaker's neck and Caretaker carefully carried him into the wheelchair.

Just as Caretaker draped the blanket over Whumpee's thigh, the doctor treating Whumpee came into the ward. "Oh, are you ready? Okay, I'll take you to the lobby. Let me bring your bags."

"Thank you very much, doctor!" said Caretaker while bowing her body.

They walked towards the lobby and feeling happy. Three other team members had already gone home a few days ago and are now recovering at home. Team Leader and the remaining team members are now continuing their inspection regarding Whumper. So, currently the only person accompanying Whumpee is Caretaker, definitely and always.

After completing some paperwork for leaving the hospital and saying goodbye to several nurses who treated Whumpee, Caretaker pushed Whumpee's wheelchair towards the exit. The winter wind greeted Whumpee's body. It was cold, but Whumpee enjoyed it.

"You are okay?" Caretaker asked worriedly.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little cold."

The caretaker sighed and turned to the doctor. "Doctor, I don't know how much I can repay you. Thank you so much for all the care you gave Whumpee and the others."

"Thank you, Doctor. Because of you, I can still live today," said Whumpee while trying to bow.

The doctor smiled and said, "Raise your heads; there's no need to do that. That's my job. Besides, you all always help me. I also owe you a debt."

They smiled at each other.

"Okay, come back next week for a check-up at the same time as the other three team members. I'll arrange the time. Don't miss medication and don't push yourself, understand?"

"Okay, we understand, Doctor," said the Caretaker.

Not long after, the taxi that Caretaker ordered arrived. With the Doctor's help, they load Whumpee and his luggage into a taxi. After bowing again and saying goodbye, Caretaker got into the taxi.

On the way, Whumpee is seen enjoying the winter view from the window. Whumpee leaned against Caretaker's body. Just as Whumpee looked happy, Caretaker also felt happy and grateful that Whumpee could be released from the hospital.

Caretaker's memory flashed back to some time ago, as if everything were like a dream. It's been a long nightmare and Caretaker always hopes to wake up.

"Caretaker, are you crying?" Whumpee asked his hand wiping the tears that fell down the Caretaker's cheeks.

"Ah? What? Oh, no. Sorry, I just slipped," Caretaker lied.

"You know, you're not very good at lying," said Whumpee. "Tell me, what's wrong with you?"

Caretaker smiled and shook her head. "No. Really. I'm fine. I actually feel very happy now because you can finally come back."

Whumpee smiled, drawing himself closer to Caretaker. "I'm also happy to be coming home with you."

A moment of silence.

"Can I go to the graves of Members A and B?" Whumpee asked suddenly.

"Yes, but not now. It's still too cold outside and you only got out of the hospital today," Caretaker answered. "Don't worry, we all planned to go there with the four of you. But we are still waiting for the right time. You know, Member C's condition is in serious shock, right? We don't want to evoke bad memories for now. Your recovery is our main priority right now."

Whumpee just nodded and didn't argue anything. After all, he was still not ready for now.

Whumpee was sure he had fallen asleep because, when he opened his eyes, they had arrived.

No, that's not their headquarters, but the Caretaker's house. A simple house that Whumpee used to frequent before they had to mess with Whumper.

Whumpee threw a confused look at Caretaker who returned it with a smile.

"You will stay with me here temporarily. Team Leader also suggested it. It's too noisy at headquarters to recover. The other three members were also given different locations. A comfortable place to recuperate."

The taxi driver kindly helped carry the luggage to the terrace. Caretaker opened the door and pushed Whumpee's wheelchair in. Whumpee's familiar and longed-for home.

Caretaker smiled, kissed Whumpee on the cheek, and whispered, "Welcome home, Whumpee."

[mactavishwritings]

hello your doing really well i’m proud, u said u wanted more poly things to write so i came up with in idea in this amazing brain of mine, idno if it’s poly but it includes more than 2 ppl. but like imagine soap and ghost and the reader are in a mission they end up in a safe house and it’s cold and snowing so they have to keep warm so they cuddle and the reader ends up in the middle and they get flustered cuz all they can see is muscles and they notice and they calm her and it turns into smut, kinda classic they end up in a safe house in the cold but oh well, remember your doing amazing if you think no one cares i do x

thank you my love, your words are very sweet <3

GIVE ME MORE POLY PLEASE I LOVE THIS SHITTTTT

anyway nsfw 18+ Ghost and Soap x reader poly smut <3

smut contains: temperature play, double penetration, p-in-v sex, unprotected sex, blow jobs, fingering, pet names, power dynamics (top!ghost, switch!soap, bottom!reader), marking (biting + hickies)

Russia was cold. The snow whipped around in the sky as the three of you drove to the safe house. The mission got put on pause by Price back at the base, so he directed you all to the safe house until further instruction.

The sun had set three hours ago, leaving you shivering more. Your big winter jacket was wrapped around you tightly. You sat in between Soap and Ghost, the two men sitting close to you to suck whatever warmth you had for themselves selfishly. Ghost pulled up to the safe house and parked.

Soap helped you out of the car and Ghost opened the door for you two. You stepped into safe house, feeling the cold settle into your bones. "Fuck this. I wanna go somewhere warm for once." You whined, flopping onto the couch. You took off your vest and threw it on the floor. Soap stretched, his vest following yours. Ghost looked around for any source of heat.

"I hear ya, hen. Scootch." Soap sat down next to you as you lifted your legs, resting them on Soap's lap. Ghost took off his vest and sighed. "Sorry guys, but it looks like we're gonna have to bundle up and use a lot of blankets. Looks like no heat." Ghost went over to a trunk and pulled out as many blankets as he could carry.

He brought them over to you two and dropped them on top of you. You let out a soft 'oof' and grabbed them, hogging them for yourself. Ghost sat down next to you and pulled you against his side. Soap spread out the blankets, pushing himself up against your other side. You hummed happily, feeling yourself already starting to regain feeling in your toes.

You rested one hand on Ghost's chest and the other wrapped around Soap's bicep. You felt your body start to heat up, feeling their muscles flex and pull under your hands. Your fingers flexed, nails slightly digging into Soap's bicep. You shifted against the two men, trying to get comfortable in the small space between the two giants.

Soap and Ghost looked at each other before looking down at you. They watched as your thighs squeezed together, feeling your hands subconsciously rub their chest and arms. Soap slowly wrapped his arm around you, slightly turning you towards him and against Ghost's back. Ghost nodded at Soap, turning himself to match your movements.

You watched Soap with wide eyes, hands wrapped tight around his arms. He moved onto his knee and one of his hands came to rest on your waist. "You're getting all worked up, pretty girl. Got yourself all flustered over a little touch?" Soap whispered to you and your mouth dropped slightly.

"Answer him, pet." Ghost leaned down to whisper in your ear and it sent shockwaves through your body. You felt yourself nod, eyes locked on Soap and his movements. Ghost's hand moved to cup your chin, tilting your head back. "I said answer him. With words."

"Yes." Your answer was immediate, eyes moving to look at Ghost. His mask was still on, but it was lifted up to his nose. His lips were exposed and you could see a small scar on his top lip. You desperately wanted to run your fingers over it; to kiss it.

Soap leaned down, lips barely an inch from yours. "Yes, what? We're still your superiors, doll." You could feel the heat radiating off his body. It could probably melt the snow outside; it was already causing a puddle in your underwear. Ghost's arm snuck around your middle and Soap's hand moved down towards your legs.

"Yes, sir."

Your brain was melting, not knowing how to handle what was happening in front of you. "(Y/N). Tell us to stop and we will." Ghost's voice brought you back to the moment. Your eyes went wide and you shook your head frantically. Ghost chuckled and you felt his wet lips behind your ear. "It's alright, hen. We got you."

Ghost's hands made quick work of untucking your shirt from your pants. His hands were cold as they made contact with your stomach causing you to gasp. "I know, pretty girl. I know it's cold." Ghost whispered into your ear and you whined. Soap chuckled and leaned down to kiss your cheek. Your senses were on high alert as Ghost pushed the blankets away from you.

Ghost's grip on your chin held strong as Soap's lips connected with your finally. Your hands flew up to grab his neck, pulling him closer. Ghost held your firm against his chest, watching as you and Soap kissed passionately. Ghost smiled at the two of you, feeling your body jerk slightly against his chest.

Your head was spinning, feeling Soap's hands travel up your legs to grab your thighs. You couldn't tell if your body was shaking because of the cold or because the hands that covered your body. Soap's fingers hooked into your belt loops, lightly tugging at them.

Ghost got the hint and his hands came down to unbuckle your pants. His lips attacked your neck, leaving a bite mark in between your neck and shoulder. The noise you made Ghost's pants tighten. Soap watched as Ghost pushed your shirt up, exposing your stomach and chest. "Please.." You whimpered and Ghost slightly pushed Soap back, silently giving him orders.

"Please what, pet." Ghost asked, looking towards Soap. Your hand grabbed onto Ghost's and Soap's wrists, squeezing tightly. Soap's other hand came up to caress your cheek. "Breath, hen. You're getting worked up again." Soap kissed your cheek a few times and Ghost's hand traveled down your to your neck, squeezing a few times to help ground you.

The two men continued when you gave them a nod. Soap's hands pushed your pants down to expose your legs to the cold. Ghost's lips formed a smile as your thighs squished in between his big ones. Soap rubbed his hands over your thighs to help with the cold, watching as you slowly spread them.

"Treat her right, Sargent." Ghost nodded at Soap, who had a smirk on his face. "Only the best for our sweet girl, L.T." Soap winked up at the man and looked back down at you. Your pupils were blown wide and your hands were grasping desperately at Soap's shirt, tugging at it, silently asking for him to take it off.

He nodded, quickly shrugging it off. Ghost did the same to his and pulled yours off. You felt exposed in front of the two men, being left in your bra and underwear. Soap leaned back to admire you, watching Ghost's hands slip your bra straps off your shoulders. You leaned forward so Ghost could unhook your bra, exposing you even more. Your nipples stood at attention from the cold and Soap leaned down to kiss your chest. His hand moved to cup your warm core and your back arched up against his chest, moaning loudly.

Ghost place gentle kisses up and down your neck as Soap rubbed soft circles over your panties. Your whines became louder, hips bucking against the man's fingers. Ghost grabbed your hips and pinned them back down to the couch, your back pinned firm against his chest again. Soap moved your panties to the side and his cold fingers finally made contact with your cunt causing you to moan louder than before.

Ghost's fingers played with your hard nipples as Soap's fingers rubbed harsh circles into your clit. Your legs shook, head dropping back onto Ghost's shoulder. Soap watched your reaction as he finally inserted a finger deep into your hole. Your eyes squeezed shut and Ghost kissed your head as he watched Soap finger you. He watched your body tense and clench around the Sargent's finger and he added another.

Soap pumped his fingers in and out of you, feeling you clench down tightly around them. Your legs tensed as you felt everything become intense around you. All the touching made your nerves explode. Ghost tweaked your nipple hard and Soap's fingers hit a particularly deep spot in your core. You cried out, feeling your hips lift off the couch. Ghost smiled as your body shook intensely and Soap slowly pumped his fingers a few more times before taking them out.

You opened your eyes and sat up slightly. "What do you say, pet? Soap made you feel so good." Ghost looked at you expectantly and you nodded, turning towards Soap. "Thank you, Sir." Soap smiled before kissing you sweetly. "Very good. Now, how should you repay him?" Ghost asked and you moved forward, pushing Soap against the mountain of blankets.

You moved to mimic the position he was in before and you felt Ghost move behind you. You moved to unbuckle Soap's pants and he raised his hips to help you pull his pants off. You felt a hand behind you pull your panties down to your knees and you looked back at Ghost over your shoulder.

Ghost had a hand on his crotch, rubbing himself as his other hand landed on your ass. You returned your focus back onto Soap and he placed a hand on your head. You smiled at him before pushing his boxers down. You took his hard cock in your hand and smiled up at the man. He watched you closely as you slowly took him in your mouth.

As you took Soap's cock in your mouth, you felt Ghost behind you moved to push his own cock in your dripping cunt. Your eyes went wide at the painful stretch, but it soon turned into pleasure as he slowly thrusted into you. You moaned softly and Soap groaned, head leaning back.

You maintained focus on Soap's cock, bobbing your head in time with Ghost's thrusts. Soap's hand gathered your hair into a ponytail, helping you maintain rhythm. Your hand reached up to jerk the man off using the saliva that had begun to pool at base of his cock. You looked up at him through your lashes as Ghost thrusts became harsher than before.

You pushed back against Ghost, his hands squeezing your hips roughly as Soap's moans got louder as you quickened your pace, his grip on your hair got tighter and forcing you back down on his cock. You gagged a bit before regaining composure, pushing your hips back in time with Ghost's thrusts. Ghost groaned lowly as he felt you clench down on him.

"Fuckin' Christ, doll. Where you want me to finish?" Ghost asked you and you pulled off of Soap's cock. "In me. Please Sir." You looked over your shoulder and Ghost groaned again, nodding. His thrusts became almost violent as you went back to sucking Soap off. You felt completely full; everything around you was on fire. You didn't even register the cold anymore.

You could feel Soap tensing, his thighs clenching as you took all of him deep in your throat. "Fuck. I may not last much longer, L.T. Pretty girl's got me good." He praised, bobbing your head like you were his pretty little toy. Ghost groaned in agreement, his thrust becoming sloppier by the second. "Whenever you want, Johnny. You pleased her well." Ghost gave him the go ahead and Soap focused back on you. Your eyes were like glass, tears welling up but not falling. He could tell that you were becoming cockdrunk and were happy about it.

Ghost watched as Soap pulled your head down into his lap and your lips stretched over the man's cock. He saw the same look in your eyes and felt satisfied that they had treated you well. Your body took everything that had been giving you and more. Ghost reached down to roughly play with your clit and watched as your thighs shook violently.

Your vision went white as you felt an immense amount of pleasure rip through your body. With Soap taking over and Ghost pounding you from behind, the two men used you however they pleased and it warmed you better than any blanket could. Your hands gripped Soap's thighs as his seed soon spilled down your throat after a quick warning on his end. Ghost soon followed, his last thrust harshly rocked you forward into Soap's lap, his seed spilling deep inside your core.

You almost sobbed when he pulled out of you. You wanted that full feeling all of the time; wanted to feel your boys close to you. Soap grabbed you as Ghost grabbed your panties. Soap helped Ghost slip them on and gave your butt a quick pat. Your head dropped to his shoulder as you reached out for Ghost. The man scootched closer to you two and you happily sighed.

"Feel better? All warm and relaxed?" Soap kissed your forehead and you nodded, looking towards Ghost. You stared at the scar on his upper lip and reached out to gently touch it. Ghost grabbed your wrist and gently kissed your fingers, leaving his mask half up. " 'm cold again." You giggled and Ghost rolled his eyes.

He grabbed a blanket and wrapped you up in it as you relaxed against Soap's chest. "Get some sleep, pet. We'll be here when you wake up." Ghost kissed your nose and Soap kissed your cheek. You nodded, eyes already barely open. You felt four hands on you as you slowly began to drift off to sleep.

-

not as good as i wanted it, but i haven't written poly smut before so i tried <3

[radical-sky]

just a little bored, i'm feeling crummy ilsa/ethan one-shot. post dead reckoning part 2. nothing explicit, but very much so implied. no beta, just something i punched out quickly on my computer.

UPDATE: edited and posted on ao3 here

Ethan isn't sure what woke him up, but he's not complaining. Ilsa is warm and soft, tucked against him, face peaceful and relaxed in sleep. A strand of hair pulled from the braid she never took out has fallen across her face, breaking the line of her jaw, the soft curve of her cheek. He pulls an arm from where they're wrapped around her and tucks the hair behind her ear. She dyed it dark auburn, nearly the same shade as when they first met, before they settled at this safe house almost three weeks ago. His hand lingers on her face, fingers brushing over her cheek before moving to her neck, settling on her pulse point. He focuses on the steady beat under his fingers, the easy thrum of her heart pumping blood through her veins. He counts the beats, each one a visceral reminder that Ilsa is alive, here with him. The year of his life when he thought she was dead nothing more than bad memories now. He forgave her the moment she revealed herself to him, pulling him from the proverbial cliff and saving his life in more ways than one. They’d beaten The Entity, defeated the machine together, and killed Gabriel along with it. 

It’s been six months and Ethan is the most peaceful he’s ever felt. He’d been weary after Venice, exhausted in a way that settled deep in his bones and didn’t lift no matter how much he slept - or tried to. The grief of Ilsa’s death had weighed on him, haunted him in a way he never could’ve imagined. After the Entity, all he wanted was rest. Peace. Slow mornings, easy days, evenings wrapped up with Ilsa. A future without the fate of the world on his shoulders.

The safehouse they’re in now is remote, completely off grid. A cabin Ilsa set up early in her MI6 career, deep in Northern Sweden, nestled amongst steep mountains and well hidden in a dense forest. There’s no electricity except for a small diesel generator that powers the water pump and some lights if they need them. The single room is heated by a wood burning stove. It’s cozy, intimate, and domestic in a way he hasn’t experienced in almost 20 years. This is what freedom feels like. 

Ilsa is warm against him, bare skin pressed against his where they’re still wrapped together, touching everywhere they can. Even in sleep they both want the reminder that the other is there. The blankets trap their heat and keep them comfortable, but he can feel the chill of the air in the room on his face. They’d gotten distracted the previous evening and forgotten to fill the stove before losing themselves in each other. Ethan tightens his grip around Ilsa, pulling her impossibly closer and tucking his face into space between her shoulder and neck, kissing, tasting, always imprinting every bit of her to memory. 

As carefully as he can, Ethan extracts himself from her, slipping out of bed silently. He collects clothes as he makes his way across the cabin; soft sweatpants, wool socks, and an even softer flannel before he shrugs into his jacket, shoves his feet into leather boots and steps outside to grab wood and kindling for the stove. The air outside the cabin is cold enough to knock the breath from his lungs, and he quickly fills the canvas log carrier, the moon bright in the sky, forest around him muted and muffled under more snow. He slips inside, stepping out of his boots before making his way to the stove. It doesn’t take him long to fill the small stove, the little blaze warming the interior and quickly brightening the room with warm and soft light. He’s stacking the rest of the wood into the small rack next to the stove when he feels arms wrap around him from behind. In the past, he’d be raising into a defensive position, taking ahold of his attacker. His body doesn’t even tense, long relaxed, defenses shut down knowing Ilsa is the only one near him. Ethan smiles, looking up at her, and pressing back into her as she steps up and meets his body with hers. 

“I distracted you last night and the stove went out, didn’t it?” She asks, voice soft as she grins down at him. 

He brushes the bits of wood from his hands and brings them up to clasp her arms. She also picked up clothing as she made her way across the cabin and he rubs his hands across the sleeves of his own sweater she’s wearing before he pushes it up her arm. Gently, he kisses the inside of her wrist, finding her pulse yet again before he trails kisses up to her palm. 

“I’ll let you distract me anytime.” He stands and turns as he says it, slow as his knees and bad leg complain. She’s there as he rises, expression soft, happy. Ilsa takes his face in her hands, fingers already cold against his skin. He meets her halfway. The kiss is slow, gentle. Passion behind it but no urgency. They have all the time in the world. Ethan’s hand tangles in her hair, further messes up the braid, then other pulls her close, needing her body against his. 

“Come back to bed, darling, warm me up.” She’s barely pulled away from him, and her lips brush his still as she speaks. 

Ethan nods against her, hands still roaming, tucking under the borrowed sweater, fitting themselves around her waist. She works at the jacket he never took off, and he lets go of her only long enough to shrug out of it. It’s several minutes before they make it back the bed, lost and distracted in each other. 

They tuck together again, lips flushed but bodies still freezing, arms wrapped around the other, holding. Her face is tucked into his chest, and Ethan can feel her gentle smile as they settle against one another. Idly, he traces patterns on her back, working his way around her chest, and resting on the sweater where he knows the scar on her left shoulder is. 

“Ethan…” she begins, knowing where his head his going, a conversation they’ve already had many times. 

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if you died Ilsa. I can’t imagine this without you. I don’t know if I would’ve walked away from the Sevastopol if you hadn’t been there.” 

Ilsa takes his hand, and moves it down, pressing it over her heart. 

“It’s in the past, Ethan. It’s not worth thinking about. I’m right here, I’ll always be here.”

Ethan leans down, pressing his lips to her forehead. 

“This is all I want Ilsa. Life with you, whatever that means. I never want to wake up without you.”

She shifts against him, this isn’t the way this conversation usually goes. Normally he starts talking about the mission, blaming himself. Saying he should’ve gotten to the bridge faster, planned differently.

“Ethan, you know that’s what I want too, life together. Just us.” Ilsa pulls pushes her fingers into the hair at the base of his skull, tangling into the still too-long strands. 

“I love you Ethan.”

He pulls her closer to him. How did he get this? How did he almost lose this?

“I love you too Ilsa, more than you’ll ever know.” 

They hardly need to move to press their lips together, slowly opening up to one another, touch tender and revenant as they undress each other. Ethan is smiling, eyes crinkled at the edges but happy. Ilsa grins back.

God he loves her. He loves this. He is hers, she is his. He never could have dreamed of a future so complete, filled with so much joy. He doesn’t hurry, hands slow as he explores her body, they have their whole future together, and he intends to enjoy it.

[setsuuestsu]

2. Taking Over the Counter Medicine

It was thankfully a long break from university for two weeks because of Christmas and Yoongi was excited (though he tried not to show it) because he and Hoseok had made a lot of plans for that evening, the day school ends. First up was ice skating, which neither of them have ever tried so who knows how well it was going to go, but as long as it was with Hoseok, Yoongi was content. 

“Yoongi-hyung!” he heard in the distance. He turned around and saw Hoseok running through the snow, getting caught in the deep powder every other step. He did eventually make it to where Yoongi stood to wrap his arms around the younger male once he made it through the snow. “It’s cold!”

“You wouldn’t be as cold if you wore a proper jacket for once, Seok-ah.”

The younger male grinned cheekily. “But they’re not fashionable, hyung! They make me look puffy!”

“Don’t come crying to me when you get sick.” Yoongi grumbled, knowing full-well that he absolutely would fuss over Hoseok once the younger inevitably fell sick. 

He took Hoseok’s cold hands in his gloved ones and rubbed them slightly. “Should we head back to the apartment first?”

Hoseok nodded, sending Yoongi his heart-shaped smile and swinging their hands slightly as the two walked. He let Yoongi unlock the door to their shared apartment and immediately flopped onto the couch as soon as the door was opened. “I’m so tired!”

The elder of the two frowned. “Do you still want to go out tonight? We can go tomorrow if you’re tired.”

“No, no! We can go tonight! I’m just gonna close my eyes for a minute now … I felt pretty tired during classes today.” Hoseok yawned slightly and shut his eyes. His face relaxed as his mind shut off. *

“hHA-Tshii!” 

“Bless you, Seok.”

“Thanks.” Hoseok rubbed his eyes as he sat up from the couch. He sniffles slightly. 

“Will you be ready to go soon?” Yoongi asks, not looking up from his phone. He’s trying to book ahead for the ice skating since it’s a Friday night and most likely going to be crowded.

Hoseok sneezes again into the blanket Yoongi draped over him, frowning and looking as if the blanket offended him. Cute. “Gimme a few minutes. I want to put something warmer on.”

A hum in reply. Yoongi opened a game on his phone and plopped himself onto the couch to wait for Hoseok. He heard Hoseok cough from his bedroom.

“Seok-ah?” Yoongi called, slightly worried. 

“‘M fine, hyung! Just choked on air!”

Yoongi’s worry didn’t quell, but he let it rest for now. He waited another two minutes and then Hoseok came out of his room, bundled in a jacket and a scarf wrapped all the way up to his nose.

“You finally listened to me, Seok-ah? Yoongi joked, taking in the younger’s appearance.

“Hm, kind of cold.” Hoseok said nonchalantly, pulling his gloves on. 

“Are you ready to go?” Yoongi asked, praying that Hoseok wasn’t getting sick. The younger was known to harbor any illness he caught for at least a week and Yoongi hated seeing Hoseok so miserable. 

Hoseok nodded, taking Yoongi by the hand and pulling him out the door. “I’m excited!”

Their apartment wasn’t too far from the outdoor ice skating rink but Yoongi felt Hoseok shivering despite the three layers he could see him wearing. And Hoseok was sniffling or muffling a small cough every couple minutes, a telltale sign that Hoseok wasn’t feeling well. It was only making Yoongi more concerned. 

They were about halfway there when Yoongi slowed down, pulling on Hoseok’s hand softly to get him to stop.

“Hyungie?” Hoseok’s voice was laced with congestion and he looked exhausted to say the least.

Yoongi led him over to a bench and gently pushed him into sitting down. He sat next to Hoseok, placing a hand on the younger’s forehead. “You’re not feeling well, aren’t you?”

Hoseok all but crumpled into Yoongi’s embrace. “Hyungie …”

“We can go another day, we have all of break to go.”  *

Thankfully, it wasn’t too serious. It seemed that Hoseok had only caught a cold and the fever had just come along. Once they had returned back to the apartment, the poor boy had been sneezing and coughing every three minutes.

Yoongi walked over to where Hoseok was bundled up on the couch with a package of cold tablets. “Take one? It’ll make you feel better.”

Without a fight, Hoseok took the tablet from Yoongi’s hand and placed it in his mouth, frowning. 

“hh-hhETShiew!”

“Bless you, honey.” Yoongi stated, grabbing a tissue from the coffee table and handing it to the younger.

He watched as Hoseok squirmed a little on the couch to make himself comfortable and closed his eyes. Once he was certain Hoseok was asleep (snoring softly), he carefully lifted the younger’s upper body and slid underneath him, taking Hoseok’s head and resting it on his chest. 

Hopefully Hoseok wouldn’t wake up with the flu tomorrow.

[enobariasdistrict2]

trick or treat!

I dont like this and this is probably not going to ever get published/become a fully written au but here's a thing that was sitting in my drafts. Inspired by @tumblingghosts

--

Cato discovered the hard way what it was to crave death, to desire an end to his suffering so strongly that he'd gladly give away what he had fought tooth and nail - and sword - to keep for the past three or four weeks. (Or two months, or more. It might have been an eternity. Time was a fickle, ephemeral entity in the Arena.)

Agony was never a foreign feeling to Cato. But the flesh and muscle and sinew in his limbs being pried apart by snapping jaws, his body being consumed by vicious, feral, unforgiving creatures, all of whom had a striking resemblance to one of his victims, was unbearable even for someone trained to withstand horrible pain.

Jade-green eyes glaring at him, and the sight of collar with a 2 embroidered in the center, is what sends him over the edge.

Abandoning his pride was the most difficult part. He had no choice but to beg a girl he despised to take his life. And yet the awaited reward of the end result appealed to him far more.

He's overwhelmed by the gratifyingly immediate numbness, surely a result of the Girl On Fire's mercy.

Like all of the greatest things in his life, it does not last long.

To his dismay, his eyes fly open, adjusting to the assault of blinding sunlight. A timer counts down in the distance, above the Cornucopia, and once again he's behind the glass cage staring down his competitors, awaiting the second the clock will hit zero thereby permiting him to move without being blown up by the treacherous mines. The familiar greedy anticipation of mentally and physically preparing to cut down the weakest Tributes - after all of this, his default instinct is still to need violence like a drug - is tempered by the insanity of the situation.

Cato never thought much of an afterlife, or hell or heaven or purgatory. Such nonsense was the domain of his overzealous religious grandmother and her ramblings about the fates of deceased family members. He had felt the swish of an arrow moving against air and finding its mark on the side of his head. There was no surviving an arrow to the brain.Perhaps this is the time to reconsider his previous beliefs on heaven and hell, after all.

The clock reaches zero. That deadly quiet, the calm preceding the storm, settles over the Arena at the exact second when the glass barrier is removed. Instantaneously, the almost peaceful silence fractures and reality takes over. He watches them all apathetically as they kill one another in the most grotesque ways possible. One Tribute with silky sunlight hair in neatly styled braids vigorously stabbing her poor victim without sympathy for the struggling girl. A boy skewering one of the smallest Tributes with a cold brutality.

Not one to refuse an opportunity to kill, Cato joins in on the chaos - killing may have taken everything from him, but it's all he knows how to do. It's in his nature, and the calmness that wraps itself like a wool blanket around his tired, aching body when he takes his first life reaffirms this simple fact. Where before, each throttled victim represented another step closer to the glory and status that was his birthright, now he only stares vacantly at their corpses with an unwelcome chasm of emptiness tearing open in his chest.

A familiar flash of chestnut brown hair forces him away from the task at hand. He only puts about half the effort he'd usually invest in the asphyxiation of his current victim, now thoroughly distracted by the girl on her knees protectively clutching a jacket that is well-endowed with various throwing knives. Her bubble braid whips back and forth as she fervidly takes account of her surroundings, and he barely suppresses the urge to strut over there and pull the girl's hair to grab her attention, even at the risk of one of those razor sharp knives slicing across his knees in warning.

Something - everything - inside of him desperately needs to reach her. Dizziness and fatigue have stolen his ability to put a name to her face, but his instinct kicks into overdrive. She's where the answers are, a home front, a place of safety that can ward off the scent of blood, help him find a way to be rid of the ghostly feeling of wet saliva from the jaws of beasts dripping on his calves.

"HEY!" He roars at her, not fully comprehending in his addled state that she has no way of knowing she's being addressed. The other Careers - Glimmer, Marvel, he remembers, and a nameless Four girl whom he could only recall as the quietest Career Tribute he'd ever met - send him puzzled looks, obviously alarmed by his strange, erratic behavior.

Cato tries a different, more strategic tactic. "HEY, YOU!" He adjusts his sentence so that it becomes far more specific, and is rewarded by her gaze swivelling toward him, meeting his eyes with an anxious furrowed brow and frowning lips.

"What the fuck is your problem," she asks as she approaches him, a knife dangling from two of her fingers. Impolite and crass, flushed and a little out of breath, but so very alive. He blinks away the horrific images of a weak, pale girl with the exact same height, build, and facial features of this one fading away in his arms, violent shudders spasming through his body with the memories. Perhaps this is a chance to avoid that fate. A second chance for them both, if only he could figure out how he'd ended up here in the first place, and what mechanisms would allow for such a thing to happen.If only he could even remember her damn name. That might help this conversation along, and certainly prevent him from looking like an idiot that yells "HEY, YOU!" at someone he is obviously meant to know.

He's at a loss for anything intelligent to say. Not that Cato was ever relied on for his brains, but he knows he must look exceptionally stupid now. He's running out of time, the acceptable number of seconds for him to gawk at the strange girl having already passed.

"I need water," he croaks weakly. And he does - his throat is far too dry to speak, swallowing becoming almost painful. Cato ignores the irritated look of derision the girl sends him, wandering to the lake that he somehow can navigate to on his own.Frustratingly, the Arena's layout, the names of his fellow Careers and his enemies, he can easily recall. Yet anything associated with this one girl somehow only brought him nothing useful beyond hazy flashes of pain. This inexplicable gap in his memory leaves his head spinning as he stumbles blindly toward water, and he takes comfort in the cool liquid washing away the blood on his hands.

[pbandjesse]

Today was a sleepy day because I did not feel good so I basically stayed in bed all day being sad about not feeling good.

I slept alright last night but I didn't want to wake up. I didn't feel good. My ear was hurting a lot. And I just felt low. James came and laid with me while I scrolled on my phone. But eventually I had to get up.

I took a shower and brushed my teeth and it helped a little bit. I felt really weak though and I needed to eat something quickly. So I had some cereal and tried to feel normal.

This did not work. I was just so tired. I felt bad all over. I wanted to clean or do something but I could not get it together.

James laid on the couch with me and Sweetp. Which was nice. Eventually I decided I would only feel better if I had Mac and cheese. James offered to go grocery shopping and get some. I appreciated them very much for doing that. So James would leave and I would joke about not being able to move because Sweetp was lounging on me.

But Sweetp would move pretty fast. And I would move to the bedroom and called my dad. We talked for a half hour about houses and life and it was a nice chat. Even though I was not feeling great, it did help make me feel more normal.

I would lay in bed until James came home. They made me Mac and cheese. And it made me feel slightly better a little. I thought I would sleep but that never happened. James put a blanket on me and I was at least cozy even if I wasn't doing my best.

I got a little over upset when Sarah texted me to ask about setting up the Native American program tomorrow. I thought it was on Wednesday and was very stressed all of a sudden. Then there was a lot of confusion about who was running what and a lot of texting back and forth between Elizabeth and everyone. And I was trying not to meltdown but I was getting very very upset which I know was irrational but I was just having a bad time.

I had to focus on something else. We were going to dinner with the Fulwilers at 530. I would get myself put back together. And ready to go.

Right before we left I had James help me vacuum a few snails out of the frog tank. And then we were off.

And dinner was nice. We went to Joe's squared, which is going to close at the end of the month. A last hurrah. We ordered three pizzas and shared them. We got a margarita, a seafood, and one they call the flag which has two cheese and red sauce, 2 pesto, and two white. It was great. The white was my favorite.

We had some nice conversations too. About Tucker getting his cataract surgery. About houses. About the play Charlotte is helping with. It was a fun time. But I was still not feeling amazing. So I was glad when it was time to go home.

Hugs all around. Anne and Tucker complimented my new jacket. James gave Charlotte the eggnog cookies we got her. And then we went home.

I was very happy to be home. It was cold out and I was happy to be in our warm apartment.

I would lay in bed with James and watch clips of the new Doctor Who episodes. And eventually I would have James give me a 10 minute alarm and once that was up I went and took a shower and washed my hair.

And my ear does not feel better. But I do feel alright. I mostly just want to sleep.

Tomorrow we have a big feild trip and I hope it's fun. I'm looking forward to work but also worried about feeling bad. I hope I wake up and everything is good and I can have a nice day.

I hope you all are feeling good. And if you aren't I hope tomorrow is easier. I love you very much. Goodnight!

[amandamckeen]

From Desperation to Hope: The Lesson of Relying on ‘Who’ Instead of ‘How’

Have you ever felt stuck in a situation, unsure of what to do, who to trust, and what the outcome would be? Let me tell you a story that you’ll likely appreciate.

It was early June in Northern Vermont, technically spring time, although there was still the usual lingering winter chill in the air. We all woke up very early that morning to get our gear loaded into the truck and head to Lake Willoughby for an epic day of fishing.

Being the highly prepared person that I am, I checked the lake weather and saw it was going to be a cold and windy day without much sunshine. I packed accordingly: winter hat and gloves, wool socks, waterproof pants and jacket, snacks and water, and first aid supplies. What I did not pack, that in retrospect would have been helpful, was my Garmin InReach satellite communicator.

There were six of us on the boat: three adults and three children. Excitement was in the air as we cruised out to the middle of the lake and set up the trolling lines. The fishfinders were on and we were watching the screens closely.

Lake Willoughby is an absolutely breathtaking place to be. It resembles a Norwegian fjord due to the fact it was created by ancient ice flow that cut sheer rock cliffs between two mountains. It’s one of my favorite places in New England and I’ve spent a fair amount of time hiking the surrounding mountains. Even on an overcast day, the towering cliffs on either side of the lake give you a sense of awe and wonder.

I was steering the boat, and this normally wouldn’t have been a difficult task being on a lake five miles long and only one mile wide. What made it slightly challenging today was the wind. A strong wind tunnel effect created by the towering cliffs on either side was making it hard to keep the boat moving straight ahead as we were trolling at ~2 miles per hour against the wind, heading north.

Just ten minutes had gone by before the motor suddenly quit. The fishfinder screens went black. Everyone turned and looked at me, the novice driver. “I didn’t touch anything!” I quickly declared with a hint of panic in my voice. All that could be heard now was the wind and the small waves lapping up against the side of the boat.

The owner of the boat took the driver’s seat. Everyone held their breath, unsure of what this meant. After a quick assessment of the dashboard, he pulled out his cell phone hoping for a miracle in a place we all knew was devoid of the modern convenience of cell service. He then proclaimed with finality, “We are screwed!”

Immediate panic ensued in the children. The youngest burst into tears, sobbing, “I want to go home!” The oldest stood at the stern facing the empty lake and began yelling at the top of his lungs, “Help! Help us!”

While the other adults took a look at the motor, I pulled the sobbing child into my arms to comfort him and directed the other children to stay calm and quiet.

I did an assessment of our position. There were no other boats in view, and unfortunately, I suspected there would not be much activity on the lake today due to the weather conditions. The shoreline was less than 50 yards away, and luckily, we were visible to the roadway.

I took a quick inventory of our supplies: plenty of food and water, life jackets, first aid kit with one mylar emergency blanket, a lighter, and a small cabin space that could serve as a shelter from the wind. We had no oars, no flares, and no communication devices besides cell phones without service.

After the mechanically-minded adults determined that there was no way the motor was going to start working, they pulled out a cell phone again and attempted a ‘Hail Mary’ call to a local family member. The call connected and our unsuspecting hero picked up. He would be on his way within the next half hour. Although we didn’t know how he was going to help us without a boat of his own, we felt the overwhelming relief that, at least now someone knew our predicament.

Our local hero arrived at the shoreline and managed to secure the assistance of a lake resident who had a boat and tow rope. We were cold and without fish, but we had been saved and were forever grateful.

There is a part of this little tale that I haven’t told you yet, and it’s the real reason I’m sharing it with you today.

This story isn’t about boat emergency preparedness, although I certainly learned some valuable lessons that I’ll never forget.

This story is about the young child who was sobbing in my arms. He taught me something so profound and so wonderful that the very next day I retold his story to friends, family and coworkers.

When he was beside himself with tears, I tried the usual adult-like things you might say to a child in a fearful situation, “Braxton, we’re going to be alright. You’re going to see your mumma again. We’re going to make it home.”

Ironically, none of these statements of comfort offered him any level of peace. He didn’t believe me. He just kept asking between the sobs, “But HOW?”

In Braxton’s beautiful little mind, if he couldn’t find the logic to the process of getting from the boat to his home, then that meant getting back home was impossible and he would never see his mother again. I, too, didn’t know how this rescue would happen, I was merely hoping someone would help us. How could I console him with that uncertainty? I felt rendered useless.

It was only when we spotted the rescue boat headed our way that Braxton’s tears transformed into a radiant smile. At that moment, he saw the way home, and suddenly, he believed that he would be reunited with his mother.

This experience with Braxton made me realize that understanding the “HOW” is often as important to us as reaching the destination. However, the true lesson lies in shifting our focus from the “HOW” to the “WHO.” It’s not just about explaining the process; it’s about recognizing the significance of the people who step in to help.

In uncertain situations, assurances alone may not be enough. The importance lies in acknowledging the ‘Who’ instead of ‘How’ — understanding that the right people, the support, and the collective effort can lead to a positive outcome. Braxton’s shift from tears to smiles upon seeing the rescue boat illustrates the power of relying on the “Who” — the people who stepped in to assist.

So, the next time you face uncertainty or guide someone through it, remember Braxton’s story. It’s not just about saying, “We’ll be alright,” but about recognizing the individuals, the support system, and the collective effort — the “Who” that leads to hope, assurance, and a journey back home.

-Amanda McKeen

[egoiistas]

Ran out of tags fjsbdhd

Long tags; didn't read: five hours in the ER with bloodwork, ct scan, lumbar puncture and less cerebrospinal fluid than I went in with - final diagnosis: headache

Hope y'all are well <3

[somebodystoleme]

you know when it's time to go | miya atsumu x reader

summary: you always knew you and atsumu could never be together; you were two worlds apart, and two worlds it will stay

w.c: > 1.0k

a/n: UHH PART 2???? y'all im so sorry abt the request i'm almost done w/ most of them :)))

warnings: cheating, angst, cliffhanger

you know when it's time to go

when you got home from your shift at the coffee shop, it seemed that time had stopped. atsumu's sports jacket laid across the wooden table, you two bought when it was your 19th birthday. but as you take a closer look at it you realize how scratched up it looks, you see the water stains on the time.

you know where atsumu is right now. he's with her. you know he is. as you grab out the wine bottle and pop it open, you can't help to wonder why you are with him to start.

maybe it's cause he stuck with you when you were grounded your whole senior year. you used to have sleepovers with your best friend so you could text him on her phone, smiling constantly. but soon trouble spewed all over everything that was supposed to be perfect.

you first noticed the way he looks at her in sophomore year. she had that personality. you know! that one! the funny one, the happy one, and the one who fakes everything cause that was what she was taught. you on the other hand were completely opposite. while she was out partying with him, you were stuck at home trying to study for your ap exam the next day.

or perhaps maybe it's because when you spent time complaining over your parent's divorce, she was bragging about her new weight. it constantly felt like a competition, it was all a sick game in her head. she knew i was angry. but he wasn't mine, so why should you care?

until senior prom. you dressed up in your finest attire. all your stupid paycheck from that stupid coffee shop you still work at. he wore the black suit he's had since 9th grade. something changed between you two that night. he thought you seemed like an angel underneath the light, you likewise. he kissed you. right underneath that cheap disco.

he was a dream.

his lips were chapped that night, you run your hand over your mouth to maybe have some recognition of that night. nothing. you run cold thinking about miya astumu now.

he would ask you out the next day. and you said yes. but dear god did he make you happy.

you caught astumu cheating on you for the first time last may. your head plopped down on his tough chest. you were watching a thriller and pulled the blanket closer to the both of you. but as the movie kept on going, he kept texting someone. every three minutes he pulled his phone out and his cheesy grin would plaster on.

you were confused at first

angry the second

you grabbed the phone.

it just happen, it felt gravitated towards it, you grabbed it.

you saw the messages and even who it was. atsumu didn't even try to hide it. you scrolled throughout. but what shocked you the most was-

it was from her.

you cry about it, you should've left when that happened. but you didn't. you let him again after the fight. he promised he would cut it off. he said he started going to church. that was the first time you ever saw such panic on his face.

you know he's cheating right now. you check the clock. 2 a.m. he deleted life360 a long time ago.

"it's invasion of privacy!"

"but- atsumu. you cheated on me! don't forget that!"

"i don't care. aurora wouldn't do this."

he said it as if i was the monster- like i forced him to date me. i should've broken up with him then. on sundays, he would tell he was going to church. but now that i think about it, he's never once told me anything about it.

the door opens.

it's atsumu thinking i'm about to start begging for him to tell him what's wrong. but i'm not.

"atsumu."

"y/n."

"let's end this."

"what."

"whatever sick game you and aurora are playing let's stop it."

"why? why would you leave. i gave you everything."

i turned around to face him, "atsumu- or should i say miya now? i know you and her are fucking behind my back. i didn't know church lasted till 2 a.m?"

"y/n. i can't do this again. i love you so much! why don't you see this? are you crazy or something?"

"i'm not crazy! i'm just sick of waiting for you to change! you never showed any sign of change; just lies, lies, lies! i'm sick." i grab my phone off the wooden table and my cardigan.

"goodbye atsumu."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Desperate Measures 1

Warnings: nonconsent and rape (miniseries); stalking, fear, intimidation.

This is dark!Steve Rogers and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: At first, you think it’s a joke when you get the strange messages, but when they don’t stop, you realise too late how real it all is.

Note: This was going to be a one shot but it kept going and going and going, so it’s gonna be split in 2.

Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Have a piece of American dream Open up, and swallow, on your knees And say Thank you I'd like some desperate measures, please

💌

The first picture was sent on Monday. You remembered it clearly unlike most Monday mornings. It was the same boring ritual; a coffee that had long turned cold, a pen that wouldn’t write, and a computer that ran as if on dial-up. 

The only bright side was that your small desk was near a window and you could look out onto the city streets, though they were hardly less miserable than your own existence. You were so high up the people were merely moving specks. You often found yourself distracted by the crowded traffic below.

You were drawn from such a distant reverie by the buzz of your phone. You kept it face down by your monitor. Despite the temptation, you limited yourself to succumbing only once an hour. You sat back and your chair creaked as it tilted beneath you. You checked the time in the corner of your screen and reached for your cell, the rubber case scuffed and scratched at the edges.

Notifications for the same emails that sat open in front of you and a few personal ones in the next bubble. Another for the game you played on the subway or when you were overly listless, several updates for your hoarded apps, and a single text. 

There was no number attached to the message, only the foreboding thick font that read ‘unknown number’. You chewed on your thumb as you leaned forward on your elbow and swiped your screen up and punched in your password. The screen flashed and you hit the last notification. No words, just a file. You hit download.

You blinked as it ate your data and the image of your apartment door appeared. You glanced around and laughed to yourself. You shook your head and keyed in your response; ‘very funny, Eva.’ You hit send and set your phone back down. 

Your old friend liked her jokes and you hadn’t missed her little ploy the last time she showed up at your place angry over her latest fling. You had thought she was getting a picture of the stain on the hallway carpet that looked suspiciously like blood… or feces… or a mixture of the two.

You went back to your work and switched the document you’d been picking at for most of the morning. Your job was as entertaining as watching paint dry then peel from age. When you applied for an editing position, you’d expected thrillers and melodramas. Instead, you got dry textbooks and educational guides.

You yawned and pushed through to your scheduled break. You dumped your cold coffee and headed down to the café to grab another. The coffee they kept in the office was cheap and bland. You ate your salad in the lunchroom as you watched the clock tick away. You checked your phone. No reply to that unusual text. Eva must’ve chickened out.

You scoffed and switched chats to send her usual number an ‘lol’. You tucked your phone in your pocket and punched back in before you headed back to your desk. A couple more hours and you’d be home to stew in the early week daze.

The last half of the day went quicker and your subway ride was uneventful; well, for New York. You walked home from your stop and pulled out your phone as you climbed the stairs. You slowed down and moved your feet blindly. You’d finally gotten an answer. ‘Eva?’

You opened the chat again and hit the image. It filled the screen and you squinted as you came to a stop. The stain wasn’t there. Your landlord had finally relented and had the entire hallway torn up and replaced with an even duller shade of grey. The picture had been taken since then; within the last month. The last time you’d seen Eva, you’d gone to hers.

Your chest clenched and you gulped. You hit the little icon in the corner of the conversation and hit ‘block’. You continued to your floor and neared your door. You looked down the hallway and back to your door. You tried the handle. Locked. You took a breath.

It could still be a joke. The stoner next door, Perry, had your number from when you agreed to feed his cat that one time. Maybe he was high or just trying to be funny. Still, it hadn’t come up under his name. Well, he might have changed his number since then.

You unlocked your door and scurried inside. You made sure to turn the latch and slide the chain into place. You tossed your bag beside the mat of shoes and added your flats to the pile. You dropped your phone on the coffee table and untucked your work shirt as you walked around the small living room. 

Nothing was out of place, not that you truly believed whoever it was had gotten past your door. You rubbed your forehead and went to the small kitchen that looked out into the living room. You grabbed a can of sparkling lime whatever and plopped it next to your phone.

You went to your bedroom and stripped yourself of your stiff work clothes and pulled on the night shirt crumpled atop your blanket. You looked down at the thin grey cotton and reached under to unhook your bra. You flung it in the corner knowing you’d be cursing yourself when you couldn’t find it the next morning.

You flopped onto the couch and grabbed your remote. You turned on some mindless Youtube video and opened the mobile game which had taken too much of your life from you. You connected three and four and five and somewhere in between your existentialism kicked in and had you wondering at the point of it.

You closed the app before it ate all of your battery and your phone shook in your hand. 

‘You didn’t tell me who Eva is.’ The message flashed over the top of the screen then disappeared. You pulled down the notification and hit it. You were certain you’d blocked the number. The other messages were gone though and ‘unknown number’ was still emblazoned across the top. You blocked the convo again and dimmed the screen. 

You plugged in your phone and sprawled out across the sofa. You stared at the television, a blur and a buzz to your frantic mind. 

It was dark already when you dragged yourself off the couch and heated up a microwave dinner. You ate it without tasting and your phone chimed to signal a full charge. You left it as it was on the arm of the couch and resumed your repose on the sofa. You fell asleep to the angered commentary of a gamer trying to fight a clam.

You awoke with a start. You blinked through your daze as your television showed stills of mountain and grassy fields. You sat up and grabbed your phone. You checked the time; midnight. Another message.

‘She’s the one you had coffee with last week.’ It said.

You gaped and dropped your phone. You looked around as if whoever it was would be hiding in the corner. You shook as you reached down and took the phone. You swallowed and began to type.

‘Whoever this is, this isn’t funny anymore. Cut it out.’

‘Funny?’ The response came quickly.

‘I mean it. Stop.’

‘Good night, sweetheart.’

You recoiled at the message and bit your lip to keep it from trembling. You checked your door again, the chain still in place, checked every inch of your apartment in your paranoia. Nothing. You let out a breath and took a blanket from your bed and huddled up on the couch. You turned on a playlist, not sure you’d be sleeping much that night.

💌

You weren’t sure when you fell asleep again but you rose before your alarm. You drank your coffee as the sky turned a duller shade of grey. You went through your usual morning dance and headed out the door with a bagel hanging from your mouth. You chowed down on your way to the subway. You felt your bag buzz as you stepped on the train.

You ignored it and clung to the bar as you counted the stops. You got off and stopped by the coffee shop. You ordered a black tea and headed down to your building. Your desk was as it was when you left it. The chair was tucked in and your mouse was hidden behind the keyboard. You sat and booted the laggy machine.

As you waited for it to start, you stirred around in your bag for your phone. You had another message. You dreaded opening it but the circle just kept spinning in the middle of the monitor. You hit the bubble and your phone unlocked.

You took a sharp breath as the image glared back at you. It was you, on the subway, that morning judging by the jacket, staring at the door as the photo was taken unknowingly. Your phone slipped from your grasp and you spun in your chair.

Everything was as it should be. Your co-workers looked just as dead inside as you. Your boss was boxed up in his office on a ‘conference call’. You shuddered and turned back to your desk. You burned your tongue on your tea and signed into your computer. Your phone vibrated beside your shoe and you bent to retrieve it.

‘You looked tired this morning’. The next message blipped on the screen.

You were quick to sweep the clock upward and type. ‘Who the fuck is this?’

‘Sweetheart. I don’t like that kind of language.’ The response was quick and sharp, even in text.

‘Tell me who you are? Why are you doing this?’

‘One thing at a time.’ The letters burned into your vision.

‘Who are you?’ You keyed in again. No answer. 

You set the phone down and watched it. Five minutes, no buzz. You hovered your hand over your mouse and tried to focus on your monitor. Your heart was so loud in your ears, your head began to pound.

💌

When you got on the subway at the end of the day, you looked around frantically as you settled into a seat, your bag hugged to your chest. You glanced up and down the car a dozen times over as you awaited your cue. Your toe tapped anxiously and you stood so fast you were dizzy when your stop came up.

You rushed down the sidewalk, peeking over your shoulder every other step. You didn’t say anything unusual; no one following you, no one watching. You ran up to your building and unlocked the door clumsily. 

You hurried up the stairs and down the hall to your apartment. The key slid in roughly and you turned it so quick, you were certain it would bend. You skirted inside and put the chain in place.

You looked down as your thin-soled boot brushed over something. A pile of flyers slipped through the slot in your absence. You picked them up and sorted through them, an envelope amidst the mess. On its face, it read ‘for my sweetheart’.

You hovered by the door, staring at the envelope. After a moment, you slung your bag down on the floor and placed the flyers on the end table by the lamp. You clicked on the light and ran your thumb along the lip. You carefully opened it and pulled out the paper inside. You unfolded it and your breath caught in your chest.

It was a sketch, quite well done, of you. You’d worn that sweater last week. You went to the park and walked around, sat by the fountain, tossed rocks into the babbling basin. They had been there, whoever it was. How long had they been watching?

And they had been at your door, close enough to slip this through the slot. You folded the drawing and shoved it back in the envelope. You stomped into the kitchen and tossed it into the bin beneath the counter. You backed up and gripped the other counter behind you. You felt a lump in your throat. 

What the fuck was going on?

💌

You started going in early to work; catching the train half an hour before your usual one. You left late and changed your route between the station and your building. You entered through the back, hopping the low concrete barrier between the apartments and the backlot.

Still, it only gave you a single day of peace. No messages, no pictures; and you thought the game was over. You hoped it was. That it was just a sick joke that had finally grown tiring. 

But Thursday saw another image of you just outside your work building. Friday, another of you on the subway.

The weekend was listless. You did your shopping quickly and on Sunday, you wore a loose hoodie to the laundromat. You could find nothing peculiar around you. The city was full of sketchy people but none seemed to be watching you. The hordes were still about their own lives; ignorant of those around them. You felt entirely alone, as if you were being hunted.

Monday was much the same as the last but how could it ever be dull again. You shut your phone off so you could focus on your work. When you were finally done, you dialed the toll-free number for your provider. You took a taxi home and spent two hours on the line but you got your new number and a sense of relief.

You kept your phone on, ringer on max, and nothing. You watched the screen rather than the television but it only lit up with emails and a random text from your mother. You slept in your bed that night,almost soundly.

You still kept your eye over your shoulder. Still searched out any sign of unusual interest. Perhaps you were clueless or maybe your lack of response had finally gotten through to them. Once their messages bounced back as out of service, they might have given up. They got their laughs, now you wanted peace.

It lasted until Friday. 

A full week and you were certain it was over. You finished work and stopped by the liquor store for a bottle of wine on your way home. You could finally let loose. Life had gone back to its usual tedium. You browsed the reds lazily but pondered a pack of coolers instead. Your phone buzzed. You slid it from your pocket out of habit.

‘That cabernet on the top shelf is on sale. Just to your left.’ You stared at the message and backed away from the shelf. You looked around but all the other customers seemed intent on their own purchases. You gulped and blocked the unknown sender.

You left emptied-handed and ran for the train. You got home an hour later than usual. You raced up the stairs and stopped dead in front of your door. The tall gift bag looked familiar; it had been hanging in the store by the till. You neared and peered inside. The golden cap of the wine that had stood in front of you; top shelf.

You bent and flipped the little card attached to the string.

‘For you, sweetheart. Enjoy your weekend.’

You stood and grabbed the bag. You glanced up and down the halls and stormed back down the grey carpet. Your feet hammered down the stairs and you burst through the back doors. You threw the bag into the dumpster and heard the shatter. Your lip trembled as you spun and sprinted back inside.

When you reached your apartment, you called Eva. You struggled to open your dresser with one hand and started pulling out clothes and stuffing them into your neon duffle. She finally picked up.

“E-eva,” you stuttered, “can I-- Can I stay with you, please? J-just a night or two--”

“Wohoa, whoa, slow down,” she said. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t… I can’t tell you now. I’m just-- I’m freaking out and I can’t stay here.” Your voice cracked and you sniffed back tears, “I-- Please. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I… I have plans but I can cancel,” she offered.

“No, no, I… don’t--”

“You’ll have the apartment to yourself,” she said, “I’ll just let Ray know I’ll be late.”

“What time are you supposed to--”

“Seven but it’s fine,” she assured you. “You okay?”

“I… Wait, you’re fucking around with Ray again?”

“Do you want the couch or not?” She half-kidded, “you want me to meet you there or--”

“No, no,” you whisked into your washroom and grabbed your toothbrush, “I’m coming right now.” You returned to the bedroom and shoved an armful in the bag. “Eva… thank you.”

“Stay on the phone,” she said softly. “Please… you’re scaring me.”

“Okay,” you zipped up the duffle, “yeah, I’ll stay on.”

💌

You hung up as you came up to Eva’s building. She met you at the door, a thick silence between you as you sensed what she wanted to ask you. You weren’t sure how to tell you. You weren’t sure if you could.

You pushed the door closed behind you as you entered her apartment. It was cuter than yours, a spiral staircase led to a loft above and the curtains were lace and matched the dainty pillows on the couch. You placed your bag on the floor and she turned to you.

“Just give me a moment,” you said. She didn’t need to ask.

She went to the desk in the corner of the spacious room and turned on the ring light of the round mirror. She fished through her make-up box and pulled out her eyeliner. She was already done her base and highlight. You neared and hovered just beside her desk.

“I don’t even know…” you stopped yourself and went to your bag. You pulled out the paper you’d shoved in the side pocket on your way out. “Look.”

You crossed to her again and unfolded the sketch on her desk. She glanced down from drawing a wing along her eye and lowered the pencil. She blinked and shrugged.

“Look, someone dropped this through my mail slot. No address on the envelope, just this.” You felt crazy. “And I thought it was all some joke. They were sending me pictures, of me, of my building… I blocked them but they just kept on. I even changed my number.”

She scrunched her lips and looked back to her mirror. She finished her other eye and set the pencil down.

“You call the police?” She asked calmly.

“I… the drawing is all I have. I just deleted the messages when they came because… well, I didn’t think much of it at first. Not until… There was a bottle of wine waiting for me when I came home. The very same I was looking at right before I booked it for my train,” you rubbed your cheek, “Eva, I’m not crazy. I swear.”

“I believe you,” she said, “why wouldn’t I but… there’s nothing you can do but keep a log of what happens from here on out. Screencap everything.”

“You think… you think the police would help if I did?” You asked.

“Not much. Stalking isn’t really something they take seriously. I knew this girl in college-- Well, the evidence can at least get you a restraining order… if you ever figure out who’s sending you all this,” she paused and glanced down at the drawing. “Whoever it is, they got talent.”

“I’m sure they’d be happy to hear that,” you scoffed and crossed your arms.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay here with you?”

You pondered her offer but shook your head.

“As much as I think you should send Ray along, no. I can’t ask any more of you.” You sighed and grabbed the sketch. You dragged your feet to the couch and flopped down on the cushions, “I really do appreciate it.”

“I always told you to get out of that neighbourhood,” she said as she searched her assortment of make-up, “but you know I never mind you hanging out.”

💌

You spent the night on Eva’s couch, alone. She didn’t get home until three in the morning and you waited until noon for her to wake up. When she did, her face was smeared with eyeliner and her hair a mess. 

You hadn’t touched your phone since the night before. You chewed your thumb as you waited for her to emerge from the shower, restless and unsure what to do with yourself. She slammed the lid down on her coffee machine and growled as she turned and crossed her arms.

“Are you okay?” she asked sharply.

“I’m sorry,” you said as you stopped pacing. You barely remembered getting up to walk circles around the coffee table, “I just don’t know what to do.”

“Well, how about a latte?” she yawned behind her hand, “my coffee machine is fucked… again.”

“Um, maybe that’s best, get out and… distract myself,” you twiddled your fingers as your stomach ached. You hadn’t eaten anything since the day before and that was just after noon.

“We’ll get lunch,” she rubbed her forehead, “soak up the wine.”

You shook your head and said nothing. She always drank too much around Ray but you didn’t have the energy for that argument again. So you stayed quiet and watched her disappear into her bedroom.

She emerged as you zipped up your purse. You didn’t bother with your phone as you waited by the door but felt listless without the device. It was like a shield you used when you went out in the world. It kept you from eye contact or awkward conversation.

You set off and headed down the street to the pub that seamlessly shifted from brunch to ladies’ night every Saturday. You ordered breakfast tacos as you sat just inside the large floor length windows that looked out onto the shady patio. The other guest lent a sense of normalcy as they carried on their own conversations and reminded you that you were just another ant on the hill.

As you got your latte in the stemmed glass, Eva pulled out her phone and scowled at the shaking. She was so wrapped up in her texts with Ray she hadn’t even mentioned the reason for your overnighter. You were happy for it and yet, you couldn’t think of anything else.

“Jesus, I told him we were having breakfast and he’s blowing up my phone,” she huffed, “just a second.”

“Eve,” you said as she stood and slid her thumb across the screen, “our foods gonna be here--”

“I won’t be long,” she promised and lifted the speaker to her ear and turned away, “Ray, I’ll be over later, promise. I barely slept--”

Her voice trailed away as she wove between tables and pushed out onto the patio and went to the short fence to chat beyond the ears of diners. You sipped from your drink and stared down at the splintered curve of the table. You couldn’t stay with Eva forever and she was hardly any comfort in her distraction with her on-again, off-again dirt bag. Maybe, if you moved--

“There you are, sweetheart,” the low voice startled you and you sat stalk straight as a figure smoothly slid into Eva’s empty chair, “you gave me quite a scare, up and leaving without a word…”

You stared wide-eyed at the stranger across from you. Well, you knew who he was. Everyone in the city, in the country, even the world, knew Steve Rogers. He smiled at you as his blue eyes glimmered. His posture was cool and confident and it was you who felt out of place.

And you knew, it was him. The shock was not enough to fuel your denial as that feeling deep down assured you of it. That little voice that told you this was your tormentor and that you were fucked.

“I…” you breathed and blinked. You couldn’t find the words, you hardly understood the storm of emotions flowing through you. You glanced through the window as Eva threw her hand up and continued berating her phone, “it’s you?”

“I hate that it has to be this way,” he said, “you know, my work keeps me out of town so much and I just wish we had more time.”

“Wha…” you gulped and gripped the edge of the table, “why--?”

“You haven’t been answering me,” his smile fell, “I don’t like being ignored.”

Your hand shook and you kept it in your lap to hide the rising terror along your spine. You sat paralysed as he sighed and glanced around the restaurant. He tilted his head and pushed his shoulders back.

“You threw out my gift,” he said evenly, “that wasn’t very nice.”

“Go…” you uttered, “go, please--”

“Sweetheart, we’re just talking,” he took a gulp of Eva’s Americano casually, “I missed you… I miss you every day and it hurts that we have to be apart.”

Your shoulders slumped and you clutched your hands in fists on your lap. You could scream but what good would that do. He was Captain America, the first avenger, a hero. 

As if your thoughts sent a banner waving, a young kid approached the table and smiled nervously as he held one of the colouring pages supplied by the restaurant in his hands.

“Um, Captain, uh, America,” the kid stuttered, “will you sign-- Will you sign my--?”

The kid smiled through tight lips and held up the colouring page. Instead, Steve chuckled and took his cap from his head and fished around in his pocket. He pulled out a sharpie and signed the brim and placed it back on the kid’s head.

“There you go,” he said.

“Thank you, Cap!” the kid almost squealed, “oh my gosh!”

“No problem,” Steve laughed and watched the kid run back to the table where his mother sat, she waved at the man across from you and mouthed a thanks. He cleared his throat and stood as he tucked away the marker, “sorry, this is why I didn’t wanna do this in public,” he gripped his hip with one hand, “but… we’ll have our time.” He slowly backed away, “I’ll text you. You’ll answer.”

He grinned one last time and strode away. He stopped before the door as he held it open for Eva and she batted her lashes at him as she gushed. You could guess at her star struck words but couldn’t make them out. He left as she finally stopped her babbling and she almost skipped over to you.

“Oh my god, did you see him?” she trilled, “I didn’t think he’d be even better looking in-person.”

“See who?” you asked dumbly as you tried to disguise your discomfort in your latte.

“Steve Rogers,” she announced, “ugh, even without your phone, you got your head in the ground.”

[bokubonk]

happy anniversary

warnings: angst

content: hurt/comfort, angst

characters: Ushijima x gn!reader

date: 2/14/21

word count: 2.1k+

notes: Happy Valentine’s Day, my loves! Let us celebrate with some angst :)) Also I know I said it would be a few more days until I update but I just couldn’t resist writing this one.

You approached your boyfriend once you saw the boys cleaning up after practice. You had been standing outside, waiting for your boyfriend for the past few hours. It was cold, but you didn’t mind, your excitement to celebrate your one year anniversary with Ushijima kept you warm. 

Your freezing hands were wrapped around his gift: a new volleyball. You saw that the one he had been practicing with was getting worn down from how powerful his spikes were and you wanted to get him a new one, knowing how much the sport meant to him. 

You crept into the gym as quietly as you could, not wanting to bother anyone but you saw some of the team members noticed you and they sent you small smiles after they saw the gift you were hiding behind your back. After all, they remembered that today was the date the two of you got together, their stoic captain and you, who somehow managed to put up with Ushijima’s busy schedule and look after the team like they were your own children.

Tendou and Ushijima were on the other side of the gym and you could see Ushijima being hard on himself as usual. Sweat lined his brow as he continued practicing his spikes, the force echoing throughout the gym.

You winced from how loud it was and as you came closer you locked eyes with Tendou, who waved at you and raised his eyebrows at Ushijima, exclaiming, “Oh? Look who it is, lover boy, your beloved y/n is here!”

Ushijima paused to look at you, his eyebrows furrowed and you were unsure of what to make of his expression. You knew your boyfriend wasn’t one to show emotion but the look he was giving you now wasn’t one that you were expecting, especially since today was your anniversary. 

“Go home, y/n,” he said, “I will be staying late today to practice. You should go home now. It isn’t safe to walk around alone at night.”

Your hopeful expression dropped but you tried your best to keep a smile on your face. He turned away from you and Tendou gave you a sympathetic look. It seemed Ushijima had forgotten what today was but you tried comforting yourself, reminding yourself that he was busy and that he had other priorities in his life just like you did. After all, you were both third years and there were plenty of things to worry about.

But, you couldn’t help the sinking feeling in your chest as you wished that just once, he would put more effort into your relationship. You were beginning to grow used to the ache in your chest from all the neglect you endured after Ushijima continued choosing volleyball over your dates. 

He would schedule last minute practices and leave you waiting for hours at the restaurants or the parks he promised to meet you at. You should be used to it by now, but you couldn’t help but hold onto the hope that he would change. 

You believed in his promises and even when he broke them, you told yourself it was okay, because you loved him and because he loved you, even if it didn’t seem that way sometimes.

Your cold hands clenched around his gift, the weight of the volleyball growing heavier as the seconds passed by and the lump in your throat grew. 

“Wakatoshi, I-,” you began, but he cut you off. “I do not have the time right now, y/n.”

“I need to perfect this.”

You moved your gaze away from him and stared at the ground, wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole. You could feel the pitying gazes of the other team members as they looked at you and you hated how small you felt. 

Today was supposed to be a happy day so where did it all go wrong? What did you do to deserve being treated like this?

“But today is-,” you tried once again, your tears forcing your voice to a whisper.

“You are bothering me,” he interjected, harshly, “I am sure what you have to tell me can wait.”

You gave a small nod and began making your way out of the gym. Footsteps followed after you and for a second, you hoped it was Ushijima but when you heard a voice call your name, you felt the familiar taste of bitter disappointment. 

“Y/n, he’s just having a bad day,” Tendou consoled, his eyes widening when he saw your tear-stained cheeks. “You know he didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah, I know,” you smiled, one that clearly didn’t reach your eyes from how the frown on Tendou’s face deepened. You used the sleeves of your thin jacket to wipe away your tears before extending the gift in your hand. 

“Give it to him for me, will you?” you murmured weakly, “Make sure he doesn’t practice too late and don’t let him overexert himself.”

“No, y/n,” Tendou shook his head. “You should give it to him yourself. I’ll go grab him right now and tell him to walk you home.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, “I’m not in the mood to celebrate anyway. I just came to drop off his gift.”

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” he frowned, his anger rising as more tears fell from your eyes. He knew how much you were looking forward to celebrating your anniversary and he felt terrible at how you were being treated by Ushijima. He wasn’t blind to all of the sacrifices you made for him and he knew it was time Ushijima stopped taking you for granted. 

“Good night, Tendou.”

The walk home was cold and lonely and you only felt worse when you woke up the next morning with a fever. But you were comforted by all the messages from Tendou and the other members asking how you were doing and interrogating you. They were seconds away from going over to your house because of your lack of response when you assured them you were doing fine and sent them a picture of yourself in bed, saying you had a fever.

Even with the group chat blowing up, there was still no response from Ushijima and you wondered if he just didn’t care. 

Your thoughts were swarmed with insecurities and before you knew it, you were sobbing into your pillow. 

Does he even love me?

You tried remembering a time where he actually said those three words, but you found you couldn’t. A year of dating and “I love you” never escaped his lips. A year of being treated like a second choice. A year of putting his feelings first and getting your heart stomped on.

You were tired and you didn’t know how much longer this cycle of disappointment could go on. 

You were torn out of your thoughts when you heard the front door open and the low murmur of voices before heavy footsteps began approaching your room. You pulled the covers over your head, hiding your messy hair and your swollen face. 

The door creaked as it opened and you peeked through the small opening of the blanket, your mouth dropping in surprise when you saw a large figure standing in your bedroom.

“Ushijima?” you questioned, sitting up abruptly before wincing at your nausea caused by the sudden movement.

He stopped examining all the photos in your room and turned around to face you, his eyes widening when he saw your red-rimmed eyes. He barely registered the fact that you called him by his last name and not his first, his main focus was what made you cry. 

“What’s wrong, y/n?” he asked, worry clearly written on his face. “Why are you crying?”

“Why are you here, Ushijima?” you asked instead, bringing your gaze to your fidgeting fingers, a habit you did when you were nervous.

“You are sick so I brought medicine and food to help you recover,” his eyebrows furrowed at your question and the lack of excitement in your tone when before, you always greeted him with a smile. It was one of his favorite things about you and he was beginning to miss it. 

“Well, as you can see, I’m fine. You can just leave the medicine and go. I wouldn’t want to interfere with your practice,” your tone was harsh and left no room for argument. 

You were angry, Ushijima finally realized. The hurt expression on your face wasn’t one he was used to and he didn’t know how to fix it. His heart shattered as your chin began to tremble and tears trailed down your cheeks. 

He remembered the harsh words he gave you and the fact that he made you walk home alone and he opened his mouth to apologize when he heard you whisper, “Do you even remember what day it was yesterday?”

His silence answered your question and you let out a bitter laugh, sliding back under the covers and turning away from him. “Just go away, Ushijima.”

“Please,” your voice cracked as you held back a sob. 

He stared at your shaking form, a frown tugging at his lips but he listened to you words and exited your room, the door letting a resounding click as it closed.

Despite your words, you hoped he would stay but you figured this was just another disappointment to add to the list. The thought only made you cry more and Ushijima listened just on the other side of the door, wondering what he could do to fix this.

You wondered if this was the end of your relationship and after an hour of crying, you finally fell asleep. By the time you woke up, daylight had faded and your room was now shrouded in darkness. 

You were creeped out by how silent the house was but you figured it was time to get out of bed and get something to eat. You walked downstairs and heard the shuffling of footsteps. 

“Mom?” you called out, now a little nervous that an intruder had somehow gotten in while you were sleeping. 

You tiptoed your way into the living room, only for a scream to lodge itself in your throat as the lights suddenly flickered on. Ushijima stood there in a suit with a cake in his hands. 

“Ushijima?” you gasped, “What are you doing here?”

He placed the cake on a table nearby and walked towards you, cupping your cheeks in between his large hands. You were too surprised to react, still shocked by the fact that he was still here and he hadn’t left. 

“I am sorry, y/n,” he said, his voice soft as he struggled to convey his feelings. “You mean so much to me and I never wanted to hurt you. I didn’t mean to forget our anniversary.”

You came to your senses once you heard his words and you stepped back, letting his hands fall from your face. 

“It’s not just that, Ushijima,” you whispered, “I’m just tired. I’m tired of always being a second choice to volleyball and always putting in all the effort only to receive none in return.”

He thought of all the times he rescheduled your dates or came late because he chose to spend more time practicing and guilt washed over him. Ushijima never realized just how much you did for him. He was blind to your suffering and now he was facing the consequences.

“I will be better,” he promised. There was no hint of hesitation in his voice. He truly meant it and you could feel your walls slowly crumbling once again. “I will be someone who is worthy of you. Just give me a second chance to prove my love to you.”

Your breath caught and time stumbled.

“You love me?”

You didn’t expect him to confess and now that he had, you were completely powerless to stopping yourself from falling for him once again. The ache in your chest was replaced with warmth and you found the smallest of smiles forming on your lips.

“I always have,” he replied, reaching up to rub a thumb across your cheekbone. He leaned down to kiss your forehead before touching his lips to your eyelids. His face was centimeters away from yours when he pulled back, “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded and he pulled you closer. The both of you missed each other and the kiss was soft but desperate. You could feel the familiar butterflies making themselves known as he pulled away and gave you one of his rare smiles, the one he only gave you. “Happy belated anniversary, my love.”

“Happy anniversary, Wakatoshi.”

[dizzydizney]

Hello! For the October prompts 🎃🍂🍂

2. Apple scent and Umvie

Thank you so much for this! It's my first Umvie fic which is fun. I hope you like it. I cycled through all the seasons before landing on the actual theme haha. Consider it like a year in the life

Rated T for some swearing. 1476 words. (Read on ao3)

~

The changing seasons of Auradon was something Uma never could’ve imagined before.

The Isle never had much in the way of weather. It always seemed stuck on one setting. Cloudy, lots of fog, maybe some drizzling rain from time to time. Gray, gray, and more gray. And a lingering chill in the air that their patchwork jackets and threadbare blankets never seemed to manage to keep out.

She was amazed, she had to admit, to see how different things were her first year in Auradon. Every season ushered in a plethora of new experiences for Uma. Things to see, smell, touch, taste - it could get overwhelming. And with every positive new experience, there seemed to be something negative right behind it.

Winter was the worst. Uma hated being cold. And even with a brand new jacket - one that was lined, and didn’t even have any holes in it - and all the handmade knitwear her girlfriend could provide, the cold still seemed to creep in and chill Uma down to her very core.

Not to mention her sea legs didn’t help her much when it came to navigating icy sidewalks. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d slipped and fallen flat on her ass. But at least she always had Evie, Harry, or Gil by her side to help her back up. It also took all three of them to restrain her that time she was on the receiving end of a stray snowball during a snowball fight between some freshman kids on campus. She was pretty sure the kid got so scared, he pissed his stupid little snowsuit pants. That was pretty funny.

But when she returned to her cottage-castle with Evie, and Evie fixed her a mug of hot cocoa, and they were curled up together under a blanket by the fire, Uma could no longer find a reason to complain about the weather. 

Spring was a little better. The temperatures warmed up, so Uma didn’t have to worry about turning into a block of ice every time she went outside. And the steady buzz of bees going from flower to flower was strangely comforting. Reminded her of the sound of flies on the barges. They both signaled the arrival of new things for her. At least now it meant fresh seasonal fruits to try, rather than new garbage to sift through to see what she could make use of. Either way, it meant that she and the people around her would have something to eat.

It was the flowers she couldn’t stand. They smelled weird, and always made her sneeze. It got to the point where she didn’t even want to go outside anymore. But Evie informed her that they made a medicine to help with that. Of course they did, Uma thought. Auradon people had a cure for everything. Even things you’d never imagine to be a problem in the first place. But eventually the medicine worked its magic, and Uma could once again step outside without fear of an allergy attack.

Which led to many picnic dates with Evie. The two of them spent many an afternoon laid out on a blanket in a field of flowers, sipping lemonade and feeding one another fruity little desserts. Seemingly without a care in the world. And not a single sneeze either.

Uma found summer much more enjoyable. Hot weather meant more chances to go swimming, which of course Uma loved. Evie’s place had its own pool, so Uma spent most of her time there. But there were also visits to the lake, and different beaches to check out, which was fun. As long as she was near water, Uma was happy.

But she couldn’t be in the water all the time. And as it got later in the season and the temperatures kept rising, Uma started to find it unbearable. She started wearing her braids twisted up in a bun atop her head to keep them off her back, which helped a little. But even wearing the least amount of clothes she could get away with still felt like too much. Doing anything the least bit physical made her break out into a sweat. It took everything in her to keep from stripping naked and running into the nearest body of water to cool herself off. 

The solution to that problem, it turned out, was giving into her impulses and just… doing it. Only, at night. With no people around. It was Evie’s idea, surprisingly enough. She’d suggested a midnight swim at the lake, just the two of them. Of course Uma was in. But what surprised her was Evie stripping completely naked before jumping into the moonlit water. Uma had rushed to do the same before joining her girlfriend.

It was a perfect way to cool off. Before things heated up again. 

Against all the ups and downs of the other seasons, Uma would say that autumn was her favorite. She got to experience every kind of weather and temperature without going to any extremes. She liked watching the bright green leaves turn colors before shriveling up and falling off. It was fun to stomp on as many as she could when she walked, and listen to them crunch underfoot. People spent more time indoors, which meant she was less likely to run into anyone while out for a walk. She looked adorable in the fall wardrobe Evie helped her curate, if she did say so herself. And autumn also meant a new holiday called Halloween, which was apparently the only time of year where you could actually get away with pranking or scaring the spoiled Auradon kids.

What wasn’t to love?

Well, okay, Uma could think of a couple things.

Pumpkin spice was one of them. She just didn’t see the appeal. What was it about fall that begged for everything to be pumpkin flavored? Pumpkins were good for taking a big knife and carving scary faces into them, but they tasted like shit. And whatever “spice” was added in certainly didn’t help.

Apparently having pumpkin spice cupcakes, donuts, cookies, custard, and mousse wasn’t enough for the people of Auradon. They’d even turned pumpkins into a liquid and served it up as a hot drink. Even just hearing about that concept was enough to make Uma’s stomach churn.

The other thing Uma didn’t get? Apples. They were always available in grocery stores, so it wasn’t like they were a rarity that only came around once a year. She might’ve understood the hype if they were poisoned apples, but that wasn’t even the case. As soon as there was a slight chill in the air, the Auradon kids were falling all over themselves to get their hands on some apples. Even going so far as planning apple orchard outings, where they got dressed up to go pick their own apples, just so they could take pictures of themselves doing it and post them to social media and let everyone know they did it. Seemed like such a waste of time to Uma. She’d much rather pick some up at a shop and spend the rest of her day doing literally anything else.

Like watching a scary movie while curled up on the couch with her girlfriend.

Well, it was what passed for a scary movie in Auradon. Uma wasn’t very impressed by it, but Evie seemed to have a different opinion. If the way she startled at every cheap jumpscare was any indication. Uma did her best not to laugh, biting her lip when Evie turned in her arms to bury her face in her neck in order to avoid looking at the screen. Uma was about to make a snide remark, when she caught a whiff of something.

The same something that had been filling her nostrils for the last month or so. The smell of everyone’s second favorite fall flavored drink. The scent that seemed to be filling every building in Auradon, thanks to everyone’s endless stock of seasonal candles and air fresheners. The same smell that every other Auradon girl seemed to have incorporated into her arsenal of lotions, body mists, and anything else it could be crammed into.

Uma leaned down closer, breathing in the familiar scent and hugging Evie a little closer. “New shampoo?” she asked softly.

Evie nodded her head, peeking up at Uma. Seemingly thankful for the brief distraction from the movie. “Mhmm. Apple…” she murmured, a small smile on her face as she looked up at her girlfriend. “You like?”

Uma smiled back at her, before closing her eyes and breathing in deeply once more.

“I love…”

Funnily enough, Uma wasn’t even lying.

Evie always had a way of getting Uma to focus on the positives. Or rather, it was hard to focus on anything negative when she had Evie by her side.

[allywritesforfun]

Uhhh, a part 2 of the AweSamDude story. I don't know, maybe the court case would be cool! If requests arent open, then ignore them

um yes! I have wanted to make a part 2 for so long but had no clue where to start and this just makes perfect sense!

{Locked Up Heart pt 2} irl!warden!awesamdude x Reader

pronouns: were originally not mentioned, but now are she/they

word count: 2987

trigger warnings: mention/talk of rape and murder, court cases, somewhat angsty 

a/n: the law I mentioned is a real law but I can't remember what the law is actually called so roll with it

part one

masterlist

You stared at yourself in the body mirror. You haven't seen yourself look like this in years. All dressed up and ready to impress. You wore a gorgeous black suit with a purple inside along with sleek black pants. You looked into the body mirror, admiring yourself.

Sam let you live with him “until you could find your own place” but neither of you had intentions of leaving. You looked at apartments once online, but you knew with this on your record that you were going nowhere but some run down ghetto, and Sam knew that too. 

He knew that you would be able to take care of yourself there, he wasn't scared for your safety or any of that. He was scared that you wouldn't be able to support yourself. Finding a job was hard, all that there was these days for someone like you was online surveys that were not reliable.

Staying with Sam was the best of the both of you. He has been without a roommate for years now. He felt less alone with you being there. The first couple nights were awkward. You slept on the pull out couch and didn't have much clothes. You felt terrible about the amount of washes you did, but eventually you started to get more comfortable with Sam. 

The first sign of progression was when he offered you his sweatshirt instead of a blanket. It was a sweet gesture, you gladly took it. Later that night instead of returning it, you cuddled it to sleep. Now, its your version of a teddy bear. Nice and warm and flourished with Sam’s scent.

You only started sleeping in his bed with him a week ago. It was a purposeful accident. He offered to watch tv in his room since you two deep cleaned the couch. You've planned on falling asleep on him, but you didn't plan for it to be that day. 

It was the best feeling in the world: waking up to being wrapped around and held tight and safe. You must've laid there when you woke up for an hour before Sam got up. You pretended to be asleep so that you could play the innocent girl card. It worked.

You felt a pair of large hands caress your waist. You jumped and had a little fear-induced hiccup.

“Sorry!” Sam took his hands off and backed away. “I’m still getting used to sensitive areas.”

You two have been working on okay areas to touch. You taught yourself to be extra alert while in the prison and certain touches trigger your reflexes and others cause panic, like hips.

Because of your high murder count, you were sent to the normal prison, the non-all woman prison. It wasn't the worst in the world. You only saw males during eating times, but it was common to get grabbed like that. It happened to every single female, every eating hour. The guards did nothing about it, not that they really could. 

Sam has seen it before, not you, but to other women. He had an idea of areas to stay away from, but he is such an affectionate guy and sometimes he forgets.

“You’re okay, Sam. The more you do it, the more comfortable I’ll get with it,” You explained.

Sam was so good to you. He’s helped you through it all. Everything that you needed to heal, he gave to you. 

“Well then maybe after the trial we can get some practice in...” He swooned. 

You chuckled, “If we win. There’s a chance I won't come back here tonight. I’m lucky enough that they gave me stay at home orders in the meantime.”

He nodded, “We’re gonna win.” He kissed your cheek, “How could anyone that looks as scrumptious as you right now lose? There is no way. We have the evidence, and we have your perfect prison record. Not a single misdemeanor! They might not drop all chargers but you’re coming home tonight.”

“Home?” You questioned.

You've avoided that word for the longest time. You always said ‘the house’ or ‘your place’. Not because you didn’t want this to be your home, not the exact opposite. You wanted this to be forever home, but you never wanted to overstay your welcome. 

“Yes home,” Sam laughed. “Why wouldn’t this be home... you feel safe here don’t you?”

“I do!” You exclaimed, waving your hands back and forth in denial. “I just didn't realize you wanted this to be my home.”

Sam offered his hand out to you; you gladly took it. His soft hand gently squeezed yours as he pulled you slowly into him, embracing you, “Of course I want this to be your home. I couldn't imagine anywhere else I would want you to be. This never felt like home to me, until you came home with me.”

You breathed in his scent, instantly relaxing into him, “I like it here. A lot.”

He pressed his lips to your forehead, “Now have that same attitude in court, we got to go.”

The court room was filled, more than you expected. You looked around, not recognizing a single face except for a few prison guards who were testifying on both sides. You noticed the media set it up in the back. Your story hit the news faster than expected. You did have a great story: warden falls in love with murder. 

“Hands out,” The officer directed.

You obliged. You opposed no threat to anyone and no intentions too, but if putting you in handcuffs made them feel better, then handcuffs it was. You looked back at Sam as the cold metal locked around your wrists. He replied with a frown, which quickly turned into an encouraging smile.

His bipolarness was the vibe right now. You noticed people having a hard time deciding where to sit. There were a lot of people on both sides, but no family members of yours. You gave up on them a long time ago when you noticed they weren’t writing letters and ignoring your calls.

You didn't need them, all you needed was Sam. You have everything you want right now, except for freedom.

“All rise!” 

You stood up from the wooden bench. The judge walked in wearing the classic black gown and had a book in his hands. He nodded at a few of his guards before taking a seat. He opened up his book and looked around the room, landing on you.

“Good afternoon everyone, and there are a lot of you,” His voice was so deep that it bounced against the walls, making an eerie echo. “Calling the case of State Prison vs y/n. Are both sides ready?”

The representative of the prison and your lawyer both replied with a yes. The jury then stood and raised their right hand and made their oath, returning to the bench. 

The representative stood up and gave their opening statement: “Ladies and gentleman of the court, Your Honor, the Jury. You will find that the defendant has been charged with four accounts of murder and convicted by confession. The defendant has taken accountability for all the murders committed and has given detail about how she killed those four men. It is ridiculous that we are here in court today deciding if we can release a serial killer back into the public. With a strong motive to kill, there is no reason why the defendant should be let back into the public eye.”

Serial killer. That is what you are. No one has ever said it that way, but he was absolutely right. You fit the definition perfectly, you had a type and more than three victims. It already wasn't looking good for you.

Your lawyer took center stage, “A martyr is the perfect word to describe the defendant. They have given their life to the state to save the lives of many to come. The strength that my client displays and ownership prove that although they are guilty of the crimes, they are still human and deserve a second chance.”

The judge called you to take the stand. You sat down after taking your oath and folded your hands neatly in your lap.

“Miss l/n,” He started. “Today you are trying to get your case dismissed after confessing to your crimes. That is very interesting. Let’s go back to before the crimes were committed, what were you thinking, what were you doing in your life at the time?”

You shook your head, “Many years ago I was an activist. I enjoyed speaking to the public about issues facing the community and the world at the time. If I wasn't outside with a sign, I was inside posting on social media. I was in college, I was studying Political Science.”

“And what were you planning on doing with the major?”

You paused. It’s been so long that you had a hard time remembering why you wanted to study and what career you wanted, “I was planning on becoming a political journalist, Your Honor.”

He shuffled around his papers, “I’ve looked at your latest credit that you were working on. It was a Sociology class. Do you remember what topic you were discussing in class?”

You nodded, “Rape. The number of rapes in a year and the number of rapists convicted was the last assignment I was working on.”

You remember that assignment like it was yesterday. That one assignment got you so worked up and so mad at the world, that you just had to do something. There was no way that you couldn't. Women’s voices were being ignored and cases rose every day; repeat offenders increased everyday.

“Now to my understanding all the men that you murdered were accused of rape.”

You nodded, “Yes, Your Honor.”

“The attorney may ask questions to Miss l/n.”

The attorney stood up and adjusted your jacket, “Miss l/n, did any of those men physically harm you?”

You shook your head, “No.”

“So you took advantage of the fact that you were young to persuade the men into being alone with you just to kill them?”

You shook your head, “No, I didn’t persuade them at all. All of them suggested going back to their place.”

“But you did stalk them to find out where they were going?”

“No,” You answered. “They had their location public on their phone. All I did was look up their name and I knew where they were.”

“So these men did nothing to you at all except invite you over to their house. And you accepted the offer under no influence or threat. You killed four innocent men and you want to be let back out on the streets? This woman is a danger to society. She seeks out innocent men to end their life for no reason.” He nodded his head and went back to his desk, looking at his notes. He looked back at you and nodded, “That will conclude my questioning.”

You looked back at your lawyer, they gave you back a look of relief. Then you searched the crowd for Sam. Once you found him he gave you a thumbs up. It seemed like you were already on top of the case.

“Miss y/n,” Your lawyer started. “We all know that you killed those men, but why?”

“They raped multiple women. When brought to court, they were given a light sentence and did not do proper justice to the woman. These woman went day to day fearing for their life that they ever spoke out about the terrible things that happened to them. I couldn't let myself live knowing that there was a reason for women to be scared because their government had failed them.”

“Those women were scared? Why were they scared?” “Because they feared that they would get raped again. All of those men were repeat offenders. They would only take more victims and never be punished.”

“So you killed those men to prevent others from being hurt with evidence that it would happen again.”

You nodded, “I would never hurt anyone that had no intentions of causing harm.”

“Miss l/n just described public defense. Under the public defense law, anyone can defend the public with reasonable cause. It’s like self-defense, but for others. She shouldn’t have been committed in the first place. If those men were still alive, they would have kept raping until they were killed. Miss y/n saved lives. That concludes my questioning.”

You were dismissed from the stand and went back by your lawyer. They smiled at you, knowing that with that alone, they had won the case.

The attorney called Sam to the stand; he took his oath and sat down.

“So, Sam. You were the warden in charge of the wing that Miss y/n was being held in?”

“Yes.”

“That prison is a tough place to be, she must’ve fussed around a lot.”

Sam shook his head, “Not one bit. She does not have a single complaint against her. Everything that was asked of her, she did with speed and efficiency. She didn't have one lash out in her time.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Like I said, not one complaint.”

“To my understanding you have a relationship with Miss l/n, is that correct?”

“Objection!” Your lawyer yelled. “Irrelevant to the case. Sam was called because of his position and his professional opinion, not his personal life.”

“Sustained.”

“That concludes my questioning.”

Your lawyer stood up and nodded. You could feel that they were about to lay down the last blow.

“Sam, did this prison have any rapists?”

He nodded, “All kinds of rapists, of all ages and target groups.”

“Did Miss l/n ever have contact with these rapists?”

“Yes. Most of the time during eating hours and the occasional passing in the hall.”

“And how did that interaction go?”

“Miss l/n was given a hard time by these rapists. While waiting in line she was often sexually grabbed. During passing she was cat called and teased at.”

“And what was here response to the sexual assault?”

“Stone faced, emotionless. Every time it happened it amazed me how she would just stand there and wait to be given a direction. The most reaction she’s ever had was lightly shuffling her body to get them off, but she never lunged or reached at them.”

“And what did the other guards do when they noticed this behavior?”

“Nothing. Sometimes they yelled if it was getting close to rape, but overall nothing. We were under instructions not to react because in the past it only caused encouragement of the assault. Prisoners love any excuse to fight a guard,” Sam looked over at you. “I am so sorry that there was nothing I could’ve done. Everyday I watched as you were touched and I wanted to give it to them, I wanted to make sure that I would see them every day of their life, but I couldn't. I couldn't risk hurting you more.”

You smiled, almost tearing up at his words, but you kept yourself composed with a small sniffle.

“The main concern of Miss y/n going back into the public is that she will kill again. As said by her and concluded by a court, she only killed rapists,” Your lawyer pointed out. “As stated by the warden in charge of looking over her, she had the opportunity to kill. She had the opportunity to hurt them, but she never took it. Even after being sexually assaulted, she still kept to herself. This is undeniable evidence that Miss y/n is a changed woman. In her file it is stated that she did more than required community service and went above and beyond with helping other cellmates. Her actions within the prison prove that she is a well-rounded and caring individual. She has changed her ways and is ready to go back into the world. She did justice to the world and it is time for the world to her justice.”

You waited anxiously for over an hour to find out what the jury had decided. You and your lawyer talked about possible outcomes. They told you the sooner they made the decision, the better chances that you had. You had no error in your case and said everything that you wanted to say. The opposing side’s evidence was all proven false.

You got called back into the court, the jury had made their final decision. You rose for the judge and took a seat when prompted. You could feel your leg bouncing.

“In the case of the State Prison vs l/n...” the judge started. You looked over your shoulder at Sam. He had his hands placed in a praying position with his head resting against them. “Miss y/n is found not guilty of all charges and her remaining sentence will be dismissed. She will compensated for her time falsely spent in prison plus be rewarded another trial for her sexual assault. This case is adjourned.”

You could feel emotion flood through you. Pure happiness and joy leaked from your eyes. You tilted your head back in relief and squeezed at your heart. All of these years of the bullshit you put up with was all worth it. You hugged your lawyer and thanked them up and down, the emotion so strong in you that you almost dropped to your knees. You were caught by familiar hands: Sam. Sam pulled you up and into him. He was practically jumping up and down in excitement. He calmed down for a second to lock eyes with you. He couldn't help but smile and cry with you. He placed his hands on your cheeks and pulled you into a deep kiss. It was nothing extravagant, just a simple deep and meaningful kiss that said all the words that he wanted to say.

“I’m coming home!”

[toiletwipes]

and i'd give up forever to touch you

chapter seven. opening up, inside and out.

Summary: Wilbur joins you on a late drive and knows you better, finding out just how fast he is becoming attached to you.

ao3 link. ~2.1k words. masterlist.

---

he’s sitting outside, on the curb when you pull up in a compact car, music pulsing through the speakers and when you roll down the window, the volume too, and smile at him with half-awake eyes, he’s up in an instant, heart racing when he thinks back to just moments before.

to the moments when he doubted the continuity of your friendship, where he was so resolute that you would abandon him once he would become comfortable, once he showed himself to you completely.

you don’t give him a chance to think that again as you leaned over and gestured for him to get in, “it’s cold wilbur, get in,” you chortled as he scrambled to his feet, as if he forgot to move for a second. giving the door a solid shut, he rolled the window up and moved the seat back a little, feeling more awkward than the cold you had warned him about outside.

“thanks for coming with me, will, i was going nuts with how quiet it is.” you offered little more than turning up the music as you pulled into the street.

“is there something... troubling you?” he asks, keeping on the dim light on the road, the sparse cars that pass them by.

you exhale deeply, eyes trained on staying in the painted lines on the road. “doing this cover and its responsibilities have dawned on me, and trying to figure out if this will be worth it- worth scheduling weeks, maybe months of time to even reach maybe the first two minutes, with our own two parts. maybe we should think about making it simpler, narrow it down to a piano and vocal duet, or a single guitar and-” you cut yourself off, pulling into the lot of a closed-down store, one of the few in this college-centric town.

“is that what you want to do?” you turn to him, your face sullen and eyes wandering over his figure, like he didn’t need to show himself at all, and that you saw him as he is already. and you had no qualms about what you saw.

“no, i don’t want just a simple cover, done in three sessions and- and have not a single drop of substance behind it. i want to feel the love sewn into frequencies every time i listen to it, i want to feel-”

you cut yourself off before smiling at him, “i want to feel alive when i hear it, because i know that’s how good it could be.” you trail off, looking out towards the windshield. “and i’ve only felt truly alive when making music, alive in a way that is beyond the pulse of my beating heart, you understand that, don’t you?” he stares into your face and finds it.

he sees you, bearing your true intentions behind this project. he wonders if you’re trying to share this intimate experience you feel with music with him.

he wonders how special you find him to want to share such a thing with him only.

“i don’t think i’ve ever felt it.” he admits.

“not even when you wrote your songs?” you question, head tilting to lie against the headrest.

he shakes his head, “i wrote those songs to help me cope with my life, something i didn’t understand at the time.” he wonders if you’re trying to do the same.

“i could show you, if you want, but fair warning, you’ll get addicted to the feeling.” you joke, and he smiles, but he knows you’re serious in the offer. with this cover, you’ll probably show him something he won’t forget for as long as he lives. it’s curious to see if he’ll survive it. “well- now that’s off my chest, how about some early morning mcdonald’s?” you say, as if trying to cut the thick layer of intimate honesty about oneself into diced cubes.

he blinks but you’re already driving to the closest mcdonald’s before he has a chance to respond. and you’re reaching into the cup holders, holding out your phone to him and telling him a pass-code. “play some music, it’s connected to the bluetooth already. or a podcast, though you don’t seem like the guy to listen to podcasts to me,” you speak and you’re giving him a quick grin before turning back to the road.

his heartbeat quickens when holding your phone, knowing your pass-code and knowing you have this solid trust in him to have given both to him. even if you didn’t know he has had thoughts that are dark in nature, it was.. exciting to say the least, he would almost say heartwarming.

but he does what you’ve asked of him, opening up the green music app and typing in the name of a song he thinks you might like.

though, when it plays out in the speakers, you spare him a glance. “you like sleeping at last?” speaking as though you were leaning towards dislike.

“is it- is it bad?”

you clicked your tongue, “not bad, just-” you hum, giving a soft laugh, “-just curious, didn’t think you’d like them, is all. we’re still new to each other, and yet, it feels like we’re old friends reconnecting.”

“you’re a big part of that, to be fair.” he folds his arms and tucked his back adjacent to the window and seat, turning to look at you fully.

you shrug, pulling into the parking lot and into the drive-thru. turning the music down as you rolled the window down, you give him a short look and he is turning his eyes on the painstakingly bright menu.

telling you what he wanted, you nod, and talk to the exhausted employee over the speaker about y’all’s order, pulling up into the second window.

reaching towards the back you are surprised to see will holding out a card towards you, you meant to deny it but he nudges it in your hands, and you just hand it towards the employee. the next few minutes are quiet, waiting for the food and handling both it and the drinks towards the passenger, passing the receipt and card back to the owner, and you drive off.

finding another empty lot, with a little less buildings in the area, you two begin to eat in the quiet of the night, sleeping at last smoothing out the edges.

when you crumple the wrapper in a ball, and toss it in the bag, you turn to face will yourself.

he faces you too when he’s done, trying not to show how the intensity of your stare is affecting him. “can i help you?” he asks, turning his gaze to the time. 2:47.

“this is the longest time we’ve spent talking to each other, and i realize you have a nice voice speaking as well as singing.” his mouth opens a little bit and his skin heats up more than any properly working heater.

“thank you- i guess?” he’s confused, he knows that, it’s on what he’s flustered about is the confusing part. is it the fact no one told him he has a nice voice, generally? is it the fact that it’s late and you must be focusing hard on his voice to stay awake? or is it the fact that you’re looking past his defenses once more and seeing him as he is? your honor, he’ll say it’s probably all three.

“you’re welcome.” and that’s when he focuses on you. you’re wearing his beanie, his jacket, and some shorts that ride up your thighs. and as you turn your gaze to your phone, turning it on to change the song probably, he glances at your collarbone. bare, save for his jacket. were you only wearing his jacket on your torso?

picturing you without it was already a bad idea, but imagining what he’d do to you like that- he moves his head forcibly, staring out into the darkness.

“do you want to go home or do you want to come over? rosie won’t mind you being there as long as we’re quiet because i don’t know what it is about you but-” you yawn, covering your face, “-i’m getting too tired to drive but you’ve only just gotten here, so, whatever you decide is pretty good with me.”

he thinks about going home alone, and slipping under the cold and unkind covers, shivering till the blankets warmed. and then he thinks about going home with you, and possibly sleeping on the too small of a couch for him and you there with your comfortable, soft ambiance. thinks about rosie waking the two of you up in the morning in her pajamas, making or picking breakfast up.

and he offers to drive for you, leaving you to doze off in the passenger side with piano notes trailing off in your ear.

~~~

parking in front of the dorm building, he leans over to shake your shoulder only to falter in his movements, your hunched over figure leaning against the window and your breath fogs the glass.

then you’re stirring awake, and you’re blinking the sleep away from your eyes and you’re looking right at him, for the third time, and he doesn’t know if he should be endeared by it or frustrated on how you can see him so easily.

but he’s turning the car off and walking around your car to open the door, helping you out and letting you lean on him for a second, never mind his skin itching to burn. you two walk to your dorm, unlocking it in the silent hallway.

the door creaks slightly as you push it open and aside, “you can have the couch or the bed, i’m too tired to care,” you walk to the kitchen and you open the doors to find something to drink, will recognizes it as an apple juice container. “though, you should try my bed, it’s too good to be true,” seeing will’s face you wave at him to follow you, though your movements sluggish, you prove you’re still conscious.

pushing your bedroom door open, he finds the papers from earlier stacked and he finds you hopping up onto your bed, with the apple juice between your legs and you patting the space next to you. he doesn’t make nearly the amount of effort you put in to sit beside you, and he begins to regulate his breathing to calm down, being near anybody really would put someone like him in a tizzy, he rationalizes.

“after i finish this, i’m going to pass out, you can do the same wherever.” and in a much more alarming speed, you chug the half-full container and cover your mouth when you’re done, giving a slight burp. “and i won’t say i told you so,” your lips lift up as if you meant to smile briefly but you were too tired to commit to the action.

leaning over to put the jug on the desk, you are left with shuffling in your spot until you’re covered by your blanket with your feet underneath will’s legs.

“night, wilbur, see ya in the morning,” you mumble to yourself mostly, but he hears you and he mumbles something similar, leaning his head against your wall and arguing with himself internally.

he has a chance, now.

when he looks straight at the dresser, he can see the camera, almost tauntingly.

though what sends chills down his spine isn’t your cold, uncovered feet touching him, no it’s the fact that the things he moved to cover the device, they’re gone and it’s almost noticeable.

it wouldn’t be hard to miss and it’s the fact that if he does take his chance and move it, you’ll know it was him. know that he was the one to put it there and take it away.

and then you’ll hate him, cut him off, take him away from the project, keep rosie away from him, and so much more. and nights like these won’t happen ever again. he won’t get these quiet moments with you, won’t get to appreciate a person like you.

so as he leaves to grab a blanket from the linen closet, and pads his way to your room, he decides that he’ll leave the cameras there, and he’ll take his chances.

maybe in a few months he can take it and put this whole thing behind you two, maybe you never even noticed it.

whatever happens later, he thinks, at least he had this night with you, tucking himself under the blanket and curling just nearly against you, and he feels at home next to you.

is that what you are, though? home? he wonders as he listens to your breathing for a few minutes, thinking that’s what you’d had to be. so open, so warm, and so comfortable to be around.

even if you hadn’t meant for it to happen, wilbur was swiftly becoming dependent, some would say addicted, to you and everything you’ve offered him.

but that would be a problem for a future will.

for now, he would sleep. and he would do it next to you. his worries can set themselves aside for a few hours.

...

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