#i sweat these two have turned my world upside down

[sanarsi]

You’re doing great, sweetie

no-outbreak!professor!Joel Miller x student!f!Reader

Summary: You came to your professor to ask for help with your essay. He accidentally discovers one of your dirty secrets which is him. Warnings: +18, MDNI, age gap (reader is 20, Joel is 50), soft!dom!Joel (oh you’re gonna love him), unprotected/protected PIV, pet names (honey, baby, sweetheart, sweetie), blowjob, fingering, cum eating Wordcount: 4,8k An: I am WEAK for caring and sweet Joel so that's who he is here. He’s wonderful and I love him with all my heart so I hope you love him too xx Music I worked with: Ultraviolence - Lana Del Rey

Masterlist

Studying was hard. You shed sweat and tears there.

You tried.

You really tried.

Despite this, you weren't proud of yourself. You knew you could do better. You were like an executioner to yourself. Sleepless nights, thousands of notes and liters of coffee. That's what it cost you to pass a measly 95%.

Fucking 95%.

Where's the missing 5%? Where did you make a mistake that cost you as much as 5%? You had no idea. But you knew where you could find out.

Professor Miller's office was always open. Always invited stray students. Or in your case, perfectionists. Always welcomed with warmth and the smell of herbs. His office was a place of momentary respite and the feeling that the world wasn't really running, it was you. And that's why when you knocked on his door and were greeted by his warm smile, you finally felt like you could breathe.

“Professor,” you said with a smile, tightening your grip around a few notebooks.

"My favorite student," he replied in a warm but tired voice. No wonder, it was Friday and already late. Nothing worse than you could have happened to him.

“I'm sorry to disturb-”

“You know very well that you never disturb me,” he interrupted you immediately. You pursed your lips into a line, feeling your stomach tighten. He was always like this... And you still haven't gotten used to it. "Come in, I'll make you some tea," he offered, moving to the side. You smiled nervously and slipped inside.

"Actually, I prefer coffee."

"Coffee then," he nodded, closing the door and heading towards what replaced the small kitchen. You placed the stack of notebooks on the table and placed your bag on the ground. You looked around the office decorated in shades of dark brown and beige.

Everything here was thought out. Delicate accessories. Perfectly arranged books. Large oak desk. A table and a few chairs. And a large leather sofa by the window.

You liked being here. But the office itself was not enough. It was Professor Miller who gave it life. It was his energy that permeated every inch that made you feel at home here. Or at least that's what you wanted home to feel like.

You looked out the window at the small park in the middle of campus. The leaves on the trees were yellow, heralding the beginning of autumn. And everything would be beautiful if it weren't for the nasty weather. You don't even remember the last time you felt the sun's rays on your skin. Everything was as if under a dome of thick clouds.

“There are upsides to this weather,” professor's voice rang out behind you. You turned around just as he was placing two cups of coffee on the table.

"Like?" you asked, walking closer and sitting on the chair. Joel followed your lead and sat down with a soft groan. You smiled in amusement.

"Well..." he began, raising his eyebrows and leaned back, "actually, there aren't any," he finished after a moment's thought. “Unless you like rain and greyness,” he added with a smile.

You chuckled to yourself at his words. Sometimes you wished Joel was your main teacher. He was the only one who was just normal.

“What are you coming to me with?” he asked finally. You blinked a few times and cleared your throat, shifting in your chair. How should you tell him this...?

“I wanted to talk about the last essay we wrote,” you began calmly, seeing understanding immediately appear on Joel's face. "I wanted to know why you subtracted 5% from me."

"Of course you would like to know..." he muttered under his breath, amused, and shook his head. He looked at you with warmth in his eyes and was silent for a moment before sighing. “Honey, are you really going to fight for the stupid 5%?” he asked, hoping that maybe you'd change your mind and save you both from having to work on nothing.

“It's important 5%” you corrected him and he just looked at you in amusement. His smile was like a ray of sunshine on these cloudy days. Joel sighed, shaking his head and took off his glasses to wipe his tired face. He looked at you one more time before standing up and moving towards his desk. He pushed his glasses up his nose as he looked through the stack of papers, looking for your name. After a while he returned to his place with a few papers. He began to silently look through your work while you calmly drank your coffee. The coffee he made was always the best.

“Yeah okay…” he spoke after a few long minutes before he dropped your work on the table and slid it towards you. You put down your cup and took the papers. “The first half is good. Very good actually," he began to explain as you looked through a few pieces of paper, "But somewhere in the middle you completely changed your writing style. I didn't like it.” He glanced at the papers, wrinkling his nose. “The sentences were so…empty,” he explained, so you looked at him.

Was it really just about that? About the stupid writing style?

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling a pang in your heart.

“Is there anything I can do to improve?” you asked, sounding so delicate as if the slightest stimulus could break you. Joel was silent for a moment, staring at you. And he might start cursing you for how soft his heart was towards you.

He nodded slowly and drank his coffee. Every second of his silence seemed to drag on forever. The sound of the cup being placed down echoed in your head. You blinked a few times, waiting for him to speak but your leg began to tremble restlessly under the table.

“I'll do anything,” you said, unable to bear the silence. Joel smiled shaking his head.

"I know," he replied warmly. He cleared his throat, shifting in the chair. "Read the whole thing and mark the moment when you notice the change I mentioned to you," he instructed, to which you nodded and immediately got to work. In the meantime, he got up and continued what your visit had interrupted. Organizing papers wasn't his favorite thing to do, but he had to do it someday.

For several minutes you were focused on every word you wrote on these papers a week ago. The work was still satisfactory, but only now you were able to notice what the professor had mentioned. You winced as you read the sentences that looked like they were written by a robot. You understood why he deducted 5% from you.

“I can see it now,” you said, looking up. Joel stopped reading and placed the papers on the shelf before heading towards you. He stopped behind you and rested his hand on the back of your chair. His fingers touched your sweater, making you sit up straighter. You glanced at him as he leaned closer, looking at your work.

“Mhm,” he murmured, nodding. His attention was focused on the text until he finally straightened up. “Start from this point again. Write, I will come and check,” he ordered, looking down at you. “Then we'll talk about those important 5%,” he finished and you nodded automatically. You liked it when he was professional. Gravity and authority suited him. You followed him with your eyes and only when he returned to looking through his papers, you did get to work too.

You sat in silence for an hour, writing your papers. For an hour, the only thing that broke the silence was Joel's soft murmurs. He watched you from time to time as you dealt with your writing, and a small smile appeared on his lips when he saw how focused you were.

It was starting to get dark outside, so a few warm lamps gave a nice atmosphere. You were staring at the last sentence you wrote when suddenly a cup of hot coffee appeared next to you. You looked away from the text and looked at your steaming drink.

“Thank you,” you said quietly and glanced up at Joel who was looking into your notebook. He carefully followed the text you had written. You remained silent, waiting for him to speak. Finally he nodded gently in approval.

“You're doing great,” he praised, making eye contact with you. You smiled gently and he responded in the same way. He straightened up, tapping your chin teasingly and winking. "Write," he nodded and then left.

You swallowed hard, staring at his back as your heart beat so loudly that it drowned out everything around you. You blinked a few times in confusion and shifted nervously in your seat, returning your gaze to your notebook.

He had such a warm smile...

Another hour passed. Joel continued to stand by the bookcase arranging papers and books while you walked around reading your work to him.

“Repeat that last sentence,” he spoke, catching your eye for a moment. You stopped and looked at the text.

“Her gaze was empty and sunk into the depths of darkness,” you read and immediately looked at him, expecting disapproval. Joel was silent for a moment, wrinkling his nose and passing the papers between his fingers.

"Next."

“Like death slowly emerging, she stood up too. The black lady who heralded no tomorrow…”

“I like this one,” he said, cutting you off halfway through. You looked at him with a smile and continued reading.

Several minutes passed before you finished. You stood in the middle of the room with a grimace as you read the last few sentences in your head again.

“I don't think I like the ending,” you said hesitantly. Before long, you felt the professor's body behind you. His hand came to rest on your arm as he leaned over your shoulder. You immediately stopped breathing, feeling your skin begin to burn where he touched you. He focused on reading and you focused on the way his chest pressed against your back.

Damn…why did his touch send such pleasant warmth? Why was his closeness so pleasant that you were afraid to move lest it be interrupted?

“I don't see any problem,” he said, frowning. His voice so close to your ear sent shivers down your entire body. You swallowed, forcing yourself to say a few sentences.

Why did it take so much energy for you to speak?

“I'm reading this and it doesn't feel like it's over,” you explained and glanced sideways at him. “Do you see what I mean?” Joel caught your eye for a moment and then started reading the text again.

“I understand, but I still don't see the problem. You ended it in a simple way," he said, tracing the text with his finger.

“You know I don't like simplicity,” you muttered under your breath, earning him a sigh. The sound made your stomach tighten.

“Honey, listen…” he started and tightened his fingers on your arm. “I know you try like no other and always want everything to be perfect,” he said calmly, not wanting you to take it the wrong way. You looked at him and immediately locked eyes. “But sometimes simple is best option,” he finished, smiling softly. You stared into his eyes in silence and slowly swallowed when your gaze fell to his lips for a moment. You immediately looked away at your notes, feeling your breath shudder.

"I'm still not convinced"

“Of course you're not,” Joel sighed and snatched the notebook from you before walking away a few steps, starting to read again. You stood there, watching as he slowly started to spin in circles.

“I would give you 100% for this” he commented.

“I wouldn't give 100% for this,” you muttered under your breath, but not so quietly that he couldn't hear it. He looked at you, stopping.

“It's good that you're not me,” he replied with a gentle smile, which immediately made you feel a blush of shame on your cheeks. Joel went back to reading and you started mentally cursing yourself at your long tongue.

You started playing with your fingers behind your back and looked down at your shoes for a moment. Only the sound of pages turning caught your attention. Joel indifferently studied the remaining pages in your notebook, and then you felt a twinge of panic. You were about to open your mouth to speak when he interrupted you.

"I will give you a deadline for corrections," he continued, flipping through the pages until he finally stopped at one. "This is interesting," he commented under his breath, starting to read. You felt a cold sweat cover your body as you realized what could have caught his attention.

“Professor…” you spoke warningly. Joel silenced you with a wave of his hand. You fell silent, pursing lips tightly. You swallowed the lump in your throat, watching him closely. You watched for any signs of what he might be reading. And more importantly, how he reacted to what he read.

A soft smile appeared on his lips before he looked towards you. You looked like you had seen a ghost, what amuse him even more.

"You're even better at non-fiction than short stories," he commented, raising an eyebrow and closing notebook. You blinked a few times as if his words were completely lost on you. Only after a while you waking up from the stasis.

"Non-fiction?" you asked confused. You frowned, wondering if you had ever written something non-fiction, but nothing came to mind.

“I mean…” he started with a snort and slowly moved towards you. "I thought my eyes were just brown," he laughed softly. And that's when your heart stopped.

You felt every muscle in your body tense as you watched him in horror. He read... He read the fucking poetry about his eyes. You were screwed…

“Professor-” you started, wanting to explain yourself. Say anything that could get you out of this ridiculous situation.

“Joel,” he interrupted you.

You froze with your mouth parted and you could have sworn you heard your heart start beating again.

You stared at him when he stopped two steps in front of you. Joel seemed completely relaxed while you were having a nervous breakdown. Your silence only made his smile widen.

"Do not get me wrong. I really like it” He lifted the notebook, tapping the cover with his finger. You followed his every move carefully in silence. Really, you couldn't be in a worse position. “I'd love to read about other things, too,” he added with a smile and held out notebook towards you. You hesitantly raised your trembling hand and took your notebook, hugging it to your chest as if it would protect you from everything that was happening.

You blinked a few times, your eyes darting. As long as you don't look him in the eye. You nodded in agreement, feeling like nothing could come out of your mouth.

“Hey…” he started gently and grabbed your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him.

His hand… on your face… Oh god.

“Don't be ashamed of your poetry,” he said, gently stroking your skin with his thumb. You swallowed hard, feeling yourself start to shiver. You nodded almost invisibly. “Use your words,” he encouraged.

“Okay,” you whispered weakly, your breath shaky. One word cost you more effort than writing several pages of text.

"That's my good girl," he smiled wider, pleased.

His fingers slowly traced your cheek and he tucked a broken strand of hair behind your ear, following every move with eyes.

“So what can I read about in the future?” he asked as his fingers slowly moved down to your neck. You felt like you were burning alive. You were so damn hot that you started sweating. Your heart wasn’t slowing down and you could barely catch your breath.

Was this what dying was like?

“I-” you trailed off, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Maybe hands?” he suggested, raising an eyebrow. His fingers slowly moved your hair behind your shoulder. “Hm? What do you think?" He asked, looking back into your eyes.

You felt like you were in some movie. You weren't even able to think straight when he touched you like that. You nodded in response.

“Words,” he reminded you.

“Yes, I'd like that.” Joel smiled warmly before removing his hand and sighing.

“Great,” he nodded and walked past you towards the door. You turned around, watching his every move. “I have time next week. You can come to my class and write your essay," he said on his way to the door.

You took a few steps after him but stopped when he did too. Joel turned towards you, his hand on the doorknob. He still had that warm smile on his face as he looked at you.

“Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere,” he said, raising an eyebrow when he noticed you had moved from your previous spot. His fingers slipped from the door knob and closed the door in one motion.

Then you realized what was about to happen.

You parted your lips, trying to catch your breath, but Joel was already in front of you again.

And this time, his lips were the reason you stopped breathing.

Soft and warm lips surrounded by rough stubble.

A mixture that made your knees weak in a second.

You sighed at the feeling of his lips pressed against yours, leading you in a slow dance. His hand on your cheek and the other wrapped around your waist. You sighed again as he pulled you closer. His tongue found yours and his fingers tangled in your hair. He kissed gently and tenderly. Exactly as you imagined. Exactly as you needed.

“Tell me,” he started, pulling away from your lips, breathing heavily. “Tell me that you want this.”

His breath mixed with yours. Your gaze was fixed on his lips and his on your eyes.

“Mhm,” you nodded because that was all you could do. But it was enough for him to crash his lips against yours again. You moaned at the intensity with which he started kissing you. Like he was thirsty.

Joel took the notebook from your hands and threw it on the table. His lips collided with yours over and over again. His arm wrapped tightly around your body. A scenario like one of your wet dreams.

“On your knees,” he whispered against your lips and loosened his grip. You took a moment to calm your breathing and licked his saliva from your swollen lips. You looked into his eyes, filled with warmth and desire. A look you would do anything for. Including falling to your knees in front of him.

You watched as his fingers slowly unbuckled his belt. And he just watched your sweet face. Your eyes reflected soft lights and your lips were slightly puffy. You looked like an angel.

He slowly unzipped his zipper and then your eyes met his. And you had to admit that this was the perspective from which you could look at him forever.

His hand disappeared into his boxers only to take out his semi-hard cock a moment later. You weren't able to take your eyes off his, causing a smirk to appear on his lips.

“Come on baby, you gotta help me out a little.”

His gentle words and warm smile immediately encouraged you to do whatever he asked you to do. You looked at his cock and slowly moved closer to place a kiss on the tip. That was enough for Joel to moan quietly with satisfaction. You licked the precum from his tip, immediately moisturizing all his length. Another moan escaped his lips as you took him into your mouth. His hand found its way into your hair as you slowly began to caress his cock with your mouth. With each movement of your tongue you felt him getting harder and harder. Until you finally started choking on him.

You pulled away for air and looked at him as he took off his glasses to wipe his face. He looked like he had run a marathon, but his eyes were full of you. He was breathing heavily as he decided to put his glasses on the table. And then you wrapped your mouth around his cock again.

“So pretty,” he moaned, stroking your head affectionately.

You felt his tip teasing your throat again so you pulled away, gasping for breath. His thumb was immediately on your lips, wiping away the saliva. You looked up at him like an innocent deer.

“Good, baby,” he praised you and tugged on your chin, forcing you to stand up. He immediately leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. You melted under his lips, making him smile.

His hands slid down your waist to your hips, pressing his fingers against your skin. A second later he was unbuttoning your jeans only for his hand to slip into your panties. You both moaned at the same time as his fingers traced your entrance. You grabbed onto his arms as your knees buckled beneath you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he felt your reaction.

“You're so wet,” he whispered against your lips. His eyes never left yours as he began to spread your juices over your clit. You shuddered, breathing heavily, and dug your nails harder into his skin. Then his fingers slowly slipped into your wet hole.

He watched in delight as your lips parted and your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. The moan that left your throat as he slowly moved his fingers was like music to his ears. Every movement of his fingers echoed throughout your body. Like you were getting drunker with each thrust.

Joel couldn't help himself and started drinking your moans like the best wine. For the first time, it didn't take much to feel your orgasm building between your legs. He groaned into your mouth, feeling you slowly tighten around his finger.

"Already?" he asked with a smile.

“Please,” you moaned sweetly and he smiled wider. He stole a gentle kiss from you.

“Of course,” he whispered, pleased with how intensely you responded to his touch. He was flattered.

You closed your eyes as your body began to chase your orgasm. Then his fingers flexed slightly and you felt stars all over your body. You moaned as you came on his fingers. Joel didn't stop until he saw the beautiful post-orgasmic bliss on your face.

When you finally opened your eyes, you immediately saw him licking his fingers clean of your juices. And honestly, it was the sexiest sight of your life. You swallowed, wanting to moisten your dry throat.

“Turn around,” he ordered, continuing to lick his fingers. You followed his instructions without hesitation.

You felt his large, warm hands on your hips and your heart beat faster in your chest with excitement. His hand pushed your back gently, causing you to lie down on the table. His lips kissed your shoulder a few times before he straightened up, looking down at you.

And he would be lying if he said that this sight had never crossed his mind.

In a second your jeans were sliding down your thighs. You heard his soft laugh when he noticed your panties.

"You're really sweet," he commented, running his fingers over the white panties with colorful strawberries. A blush burned your face, but you smiled to yourself anyway.

A few seconds later, your panties also stopped at your thighs. Joel crouched down and spread your thighs so he could look at your wet pussy. A soft growl left his throat, making you tense as another drop of your previous orgasm left your entrance.

“I could eat you all night long,” he said, his voice laced with desire and your stomach twisted into knots. His words echoed against your pussy, making your knees tremble. “Another time, sweetheart,” with that he stood up and spread the wetness between your legs with his fingers. You moaned at the feeling and closed your eyes, snuggling into the table. He leaned over you and ran his nose over your ear. You shuddered. "Because there will be another time, hm?" he whispered, sending shivers down your entire body.

He slowly positioned his cock perfectly at your entrance and ran the tip along the length of your pussy to wet it. You started panting as you felt him ready to enter you.

“Yes, please,” you moaned. Joel laughed softly and then slowly entered you until the end. You both moaned as he stopped his hips against yours.

And then reality hit him. He straightened up, looking at the place where you were connected.

"Shit, baby, I didn't put a condom," he cursed due to his stupidity. You immediately glanced at him over your shoulder, seeing that he was surprised by his own carelessness.

“I'm taking the pills,” you replied quickly, not wanting him to interrupt. You felt him so damn good…

“Are you sure?” he asked, a bit worried about whether you wanted him to continue.

“I am,” you nodded. You looked at each other for a moment and then Joel leaned down to capture your lips in a slow kiss. His hips slowly came back to life, thrusting into you slowly and intensely. His cock stimulated every wall of your pussy perfectly. You moaned into his mouth, feeling him in every part of your body. As if his cock was made just for you.

His fingers dug hard into your hips as he slowly buried himself inside you. It quickly drove you crazy. You couldn't even kiss him back so you fell on the table, choking heavily.

Joel rested his forehead on your shoulder as he entered you again and again. Taking his time, enjoying you. He loved the way you tightened around his cock every time he entered you all the way.

His moans disappeared in your skin and his cock in your pussy, creating a deadly mixture that quickly brought you to the brink of breaking. You cried as you felt his slow movements drive you to sweet madness. You wanted to beg him to speed up, to do anything to speed up your fulfillment. But Joel knew very well what he was doing. Your needy moans only confirmed to him how good he was doing you.

“You're doing great, sweetie” he breathed against your ear as you cried his name once again. His movements were like slow torture. Perfect to bring you to the edge of pleasure and too slow to end it.

But then he changed the movement of his hips, pushing himself even deeper into you. You choked on air as he growled, holding you even tighter. You didn't need much now.

“Can you cum on my cock?” he asked, panting with thirst.

“Mhm,” you nodded, pressing your lips together to keep from squealing. Joel let out a satisfied groan and started placing kisses on your shoulder. You closed your eyes, moaning with desire.

“You're fucking perfect, baby,” he moaned, stroking and squeezing your hip and thigh. He was insanely hungry for you. Like an animal. Like a worshipper.

One last push of his hips and his name fell from your lips like a prayer as you came. Joel groaned as he felt you tighten on his cock. He stopped, enjoying the feeling, feeling that his orgasm was fast approaching. He then started thrusting into you again, at a slightly faster speed. This only prolonged your pleasure to the limit.

“Cum inside you?” he asked, his fingers tightening on your hip.

“Yes, Mr. Miller,” you moaned. Joel growled, grabbing your neck and pulling you to his chest. His lips crushed yours in a hungry kiss in a second. A few moves inside you and his moan disappeared into your mouth. His cock twitched inside you, filling you fully with his orgasm.

You both panted into each other's mouths as he gave you sweet gentle kisses. Eventually his breathing calmed down and he pulled away so he could look at you with a blissful smile. He ran his gentle fingers along your cheek and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I'll make time for you tomorrow. The sooner you write your essay, the sooner I can enjoy you, deal?" he suggested.

You smiled softly and nodded, “Deal.”

[kiiwiigii]

Abandoned

Demetri x Fem!Reader

Summary: Going to Italy over spring break was not what you had in mind, but Bella said she needed you. Until she didn't anymore, leaving you in the hands of a handsome vampire, who happens to be your mate.

Warnings:

Angst

Bella and the Cullens suck. (Ha ha. I'm so funny.)

Word Count: 1500+

Requested?: Yes!

heya thanks for answering my earlier ask about requests! Could I please request a demetri x reader angsty with fluff where they meet in new moon as reader tags along with bella to help and demtri is drawn to her cause theyre mates and volturi agree to let bella go and be turned later if the reader stays and reader is hurt that edward, bella and even alice agree to it so quickly so she feels abandoned and demetri works to earn her trust and comforts her about it at a later date? (If its too much or you end up tweaking it thats okay!!) <3

A/N: What kind of Volturi fic writer would I didn't do this trope? And for once it's not Alec-centric. I love it! Also, this is gonna be a two-parter.

I hated flying with a burning passion. But Bella insisted that I go with her for emotional support. I almost snapped at her to take Jacob instead. Emotional support animals were free after all. She just needed the paperwork.

Unfortunately, I don't think a big-ass werewolf-slash-shapeshifter would go over well if they were to accidentally transform. Bella was lucky that I even had a passport. In the end, it was Alice who convinced me, definitely playing the loyalty card pretty heavily. If only I had known that loyalty was not extended to me.

Italy was beautiful, but between the sweet relief of landing, Alice stealing a car, and getting caught up in the whirlwind that was the St. Marcus festival, I had barely any time to take it all in. The city was awash with hundreds of people, their red cloaks swirling about as they danced and celebrated.

Bella was diving out the car, screaming Edward's name. I dove into the crowds to follow her, making my way through the throngs of red cloaks to find her. It didn't take long before I was hopelessly lost. What had Alice said? Edward was going to reveal himself. What exactly would happen if he did? That was one thing I had never managed to get out of Bella.

Would he just… spontaneously combust?

No. That made no sense, he never would have come to the Volturi for death if that happened.

But where was the best place to do it?

I looked around desperately before my eyes landed on the clock tower in the center of the square. There. That was the prefect place. I pushed through the crowds, yelling Bella's name at the top of my lungs.

Demetri

"BELLA!"

He turned at the sound, and his dead heart seemed to beat for just a moment. Her voice sounded like heaven. Demetri scanned the square, eyes searching, desperate with hope that maybe, just maybe, she might be who he thought she was.

"Bella!'

It was closer this time, and through a break in the crowds he saw her. Time seemed to slow down as he took in the sight of her. She was by the clock tower, her chest rising and falling with the effort to breathe, as if she had just run a long distance. And given the beads of sweat along her brow and the trickles that dripped down her tantalizing neck, she had.

She was stunning. Beautiful. And more than everything that he had ever hoped for.

The other girl in front of him, Bella, turned around in both alarm and relief.

"Bella," Edward said softly. "Relax. He won't harm her."

"Demetri?" Felix asked, voice heavy with confusion.

"Stay with our… guests, Felix."

Demetri was next to the girl in the blink of an eye, stepping into her line of sight a moment later. She jerked back in alarm before making eye contact with him. And it happened. His whole world seemed to turn upside down. He grinned. She was his.

"Hello, principessa." He lifted her warm hands to his cold lips, enjoying the subtle taste of her skin. "I am Demetri. I will escort you to your friends. If you will follow me."

She raised a disbelieving brow at him, taking him in before landing on his eyes. She gulped a little and nodded her head. He held out his arm for her to take, and after a moments hesitation, she did so.

Upon arriving at the alleyway in which the others stood, his mate let go and hugged Bella tightly.

"You're alright." She breathed, her perfect voice hushed.

"I'm alright, Y/N."

"Good to have you back." It was Jane. "Aro has been wondering what has been taking so long. Let us continue."

He put a hand on his mates back, urging her forward silently.

Demetri found that he no longer cared what would happen with Cullen and his human, not so long as his mate stayed.

I was a moron.

Despite the seriously fucked up and dangerous situation that Bella had somehow pulled me into, I couldn’t help but blush as I felt this stranger's hand on my lower back.

'Demetri. His name is Demetri, Y/N.'

The gesture felt oddly warm and comforting. He felt oddly warm and comforting.

And I liked it. But also I didn't like it. He was making me feel all funny and I honestly didn't know what to do about it.

I glanced back at him, only to find him already looking at me, something akin to wonder in his eyes. He gave me a small smile and I turned back around, blushing harder. I liked that smile. A lot. I shook my head, following behind Edward and Bella, doing my best to not trip.

I had bigger things to worry about. Such as getting out of this situation alive. Alice had neglected to tell me much of anything, and I had only caught snippets of her conversation with Bella on the plane. All I knew was that the Volturi laid down the law, and they were not to be fucked with. I suddenly wished I had paid more attention instead of worrying about the death trap that was called a plane.

I grabbed Alice's hand, my anxiety spiking. She gave my hand a small squeeze, sending me another smile. But something was off. She wouldn't look me in the eye. In fact I couldn't recall her looking me in the eye since we had boarded the plane to Italy. And outside of his initial surprise to see me, neither had Edward. I frowned at the sudden realization, slowing down a moment and pulling my hand from hers. Demetri slowed down as well, gently pressing on my back for me to continue, but I stayed rooted in the spot.

"What are you hiding?" My voice cracked. "What did you see?"

Alice looked back at me, surprised.

"Now is not the time, Y/N." Demetri's lips brushed against my ear.

I really liked the way he said my name.

"Indeed." Jane turned around, her face blank.

Demetri tensed, angling himself so that I was out of Jane's eyesight.

"Do not worry, Demetri. I have no intent to harm your mate... As long as she keeps up."

She was so blasé about the whole thing that it took a minute for me to register what she said. Mate? I had a mate? Mates were a thing?

Demetri hissed at her and everyone edged away from the two of them, looking at Demetri as if he were a dead man. Jane just smiled.

"Let us continue. Demetri, do keep your human in line."

I wondered if my brain had just stopped working at that point because I would have normally said something back, but I couldn't bring myself to do much of anything. Demetri turned back around, looking at me as one would a spooked animal. And I was pretty close to a spooked animal. I was starting to hyperventilate, and I definitely wanted to run, but I couldn't get my legs to work.

"Y/N." He reached out, clasping both of my arms lightly. "I'm sorry. I didn't want you to find out this way, but we really must keep going."

I nodded, numb. Alice knew. How long had she known? And Edward hadn't bothered to say a damn thing to me either. Why? They couldn't bother to prepare me for this? I have a fucking mate. That's not something you can just shove under the rug. And Jane. Fucking Jane-

Demetri's hand slid into my own, the coolness of his skin breaking me out of my haze just enough to keep moving forward. I could feel myself beginning to shut down and disassociate, auto-pilot taking over. I could feel his thumb rubbing circles softly on the palm of my hand and decided to focus on that instead.

Jane pushed the heavy double doors in front of us open.

My brain refused to shut off, memories of the last 24 hours replaying repeatedly in my head.

Bella had been released under two conditions:

She was to be turned within the year.

I was to stay here, to be with my mate.

I didn't have a choice, not that it really mattered, because I would have given myself up in a heartbeat for Bella. But they had taken the deal with barely a thought. Even Bella. That's when I realized that she knew. She had known the whole time. And Alice. I kept thinking about how she had worked so hard to convince me to come. To be Bella's emotional support. I wasn't there to be her emotional support. I was there to be traded, like some dog. And it hurt.

I had lost everything.

My friends. My home. My family.

I would never see my mother again. My father had passed a little over a year ago to cancer, so my mother and I were already in the practice of mourning. But my mom, not only had she lost my dad, but now she would think I was dead too. How would she cope?

How was I going to cope? How could I ever trust anyone again? Bella and the Cullens had taken advantage of me. Of my love. My loyalty.

I wouldn't let it happen again. Never.

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[thisblogisaboutabook]

Azriel’s Girls

Azriel x Reader, Elain x Reader, Elriel x Reader

Angst - Smut - Fluff

Azriel and Y/N have been friends for years, as they navigate a newfound relationship their world is turned upside down when Rhys is taken under the mountain. A relationship of romance and passion simmers into one of endurance and loyalty as fifty years pass. But when a certain Archeron sister arrives in Velaris, Y/N must address a part of herself that she never thought would come to fruition. Will Azriel and Y/N’s relationship survive or will the revelation be too much for the Shadowsinger to handle?

Warnings/Labels: smut, alcohol, poly, FFM relationship, language, eighteen and older only

“Az! This is our song! Come on.” The Shadowsinger lurked in his usual shroud of darkness at the table that held our standing reservation. So coy, so shy, so…devious. I knew that smirk. He would give in to my devices, I just had to play my little game. Giving a twirl to show off the tightly clad-in-silk curve of my ass, and a little shimmy, I twirled toward the table with a gimme gesture of my hand, manicured nails glistening in the ambient fae light.

A mischievous glint caught in Rhys’ eye as Azriel turned from their heated conversation, giving into my gesture. He couldn’t resist me. Rhys raised three fingers lazily in the air, giving a smile to our favorite attendant.

“Tequila. More tequila.” The attendant read the unspoken words right away. The night was young and the liquor would keep flowing.

Life had been painfully busy as of late and tonight was intended as a reprieve from our ever-present duties. We all needed it, stoic Shadowsinger included.

Azriel and I had toed the line of love, lust, and friendship in a tangled waltz of desire for some time now. I wanted him. He wanted me. And tonight, tonight I would make my move.

His hands held my waist, pulling body in closely to his. My hips swaying in rhythm as his alluring mist and cedar scent filled my nose. His low, seductive voice filled my ears. “You’re divine, you know that?”

Oh, we were so fucking tonight. My breasts tightened at the promise in his tone. I spun in his arms, my ass pressed firmly against his very prominent arousal. The coarse hairs of his corded forearms grazed against the exposed skin of my midriff through a cut out panel of my dress. So much strength lay within his honed body, and now that strength was focused on me. Lost in the music, we became one on the dance floor. My head leaned back into a muscled shoulder, the scruff of his chin brushing against my forehead. I smiled as Mor danced a few feet away from us, her red satin gown swaying deliciously over her toned body. She was practically glowing as the light shimmered off of the sweat lightly coating her skin. She was radiant. A warmth filled me as I took her in, feeling Azriel’s jaw tense slightly. Not in discontent, but into a smile much like my own. This moment was paradise.

I wasn’t sure how long we spent on that dance floor but that night something shifted. That night we fucked as I’d hoped. But not in the way of a casual hook-up, or a fleeting affair, but in the way that one moves in the person they know is theirs. Passion and frenzy fueled the lust between us, combining into something more.

Love.

I moaned as Azriel brought me to my release for the third time that night, the climax he wrung from me carrying on in deliciously excruciating waves. His own release following somewhere between them. His chest rose and fell in heavy pants, my breasts pressing into him as I took my own steadying breaths. One strong arm wrapped around me, pulling me as closely into him as possible, his other arm pressing into my back, a broad palm cradling the back of my head as my cheek pressed to the juncture of his neck and collarbone.

The only way to describe the feeling had to be bliss. A pure, unadulterated feeling of peace flowed between or two bare bodies as our breathing fell into sync. A rumble vibrated from his chest and straight through me as he whispered, his head turning toward me, his swollen lips brushing the shell of my ear, warm breath creating chills through my body. “I love you, Y/N.”

His heartbeat echoed through me, racing at his admission. I smiled and I could tell he felt it by the sweet sigh he exhaled. “I love you too, Azriel.”

Life was beautiful. It was for several years. Until the day Rhys commanded us to protect the city. Until he was gone for fifty years.

A life of love and duty became a life of duty and love when there was time. We were so busy, so worried for Rhys, our friend, our High Lord, our family. He was such a fundamental element in our lives and then he was just… gone.

In a strange way, though, it brought Azriel and I closer emotionally but life became less about passion and more about duty. We protected our court, the peace within it. We fought for those basic, fundamental needs in order to survive, and our desire escape life’s duties and into eachother had to fall to the wayside.

When Rhys came back, we were elated. And yet, something was different. We were hardened by the past half-century spent on edge. We remained worried that another threat was around the corner… and we were right. The war with Hybern took something from all of us, a fundamental element of peace had just dissipated. We all hid it, all dealt with it in our own ways, but Azriel and I- it hit us hard. What once revolved around romance and passion, fell into a rhythm of comfort and reassurance. There was no doubt that we loved eachother, needed eachother like we needed air.

And then there were the Archeron sisters… Rhys found his home within Feyre. He deserved it and we were all so damned happy for him. And Cassian, he found Nesta. And I- I found a nearly broken female named Elain. She was soft and lovely, like a spring breeze, but she had been stripped of her autonomy when she’d been tossed into that damned cauldron. Though the asshole mortal she’d been engaged to proved to be just that - an asshole mortal - she still hurt. And I felt genuine sympathy for her, she didn’t choose this. She was forced into it, and someone she was still so desperate to love, someone whose life would now only be fleeting in comparison to her own, no longer wanted her. He’d treated her like nothing more than shit stamped into the tread of his boot. Sweet, lovely Elain of all people didn’t deserve that.

I couldn’t help the ache that filled me at her desperation. We became close. She was my friend, confided in me, and her softness warmed something that I thought had long since frozen over within the depths of my soul.

I don’t know when it happened but I grew to love her. First as a friend. Not the fiery passionate kind of love and desire that I’d felt for Azriel before we’d become official, this was something delicate and gentle, like the soft feel of a velvet flower petal beneath the pad of a thumb. It became something so precious to me.

I felt like a traitor. I didn’t just love her, I was in love with the whimsical and beautiful Elain Archeron. And somehow, the fact that Azriel had become friends with her, separate from our own friendship, made my treachery feel all the worse.

It was a night at Sevenda’s that changed everything for us. Azriel and I were long overdue for a date night. He’d ordered a bottle of wine and my favorite appetizer of breaded zucchini planks with red sauce. A warmth filled his eyes that I hadn’t seen in some time. It nearly felt like things once had.

A lovely female entered the establishment with her handsome male counterpart. I watched them, watched her, in reverence. The female form was lovely, gentle in a way that bordered muse-like, luscious and welcoming, but carrying such strength beneath the surface. One moment Azriel was looking at the female and the next he was staring back toward me, something knowing flickering across his features.

“Az…” I choked out.

His hand reached across the table to mine, its warmth seeping through me. Those hazel eyes gleamed and I felt the tears threatening to spill over my thick lashes. His thumb brushed across my hand in soothing waves. “It’s okay.” He spoke, voice barely above a whisper. “I know.”

Those words meant so much. But, how much did he truly know? Grappling with the words to match the turbulent feelings within me all I could manage was another choked “Az,” his name coming out slightly more firmly this time as I prayed I wouldn’t lose the courage. “It’s… Elain.”

“I know.” His voice came out so calmly and steady that it spurred the opposite response from me. How did I end up with such a patient and understanding partner, someone so full of unconditional love despite the unfair hand that life had dealt him?

The tears flowed freely then. Wiping my flushed cheeks, I turned my head in an effort of diverting any attention they’d drawn. Azriel hurriedly dropped a generous sum of marks on the table and spirited me home, to our shared chambers at the River House.

He held me closely in our bed, one hand stroking my hair in a calming rhythm. “It’s okay” he promised, the words spoken into my hair warming my scalp. “It’s okay, Y/N.”

An hour passed and I looked up to him, “I want you.” I choked.

A subtle curve tilted the corner of his lips upward, a dimple appearing on the left side, “I want you too- no, Y/N, I need you.” The small grin faded into a softened expression of sincerity as he comtinued. “But this situation?” He paused, searching for the words. “It’s okay. I love you just the same. I always will. And Y/N?”

I had to look a mess as puffy, glassy eyes met his, encouraging him to continue.

“I care for her too.”

My breath caught. I’d suspected he cared for her. I didn’t know how anyone couldn’t - but, the way the words he spoke carried a warmth that he so rarely shared, except in regard to me- the words were not only those of acceptance, but of mutual understanding.

——————-

Two years later

I sat on the edge of our oversized bed, a white linen sun-dress covering my summer tanned skin. A pin poked into my head causing a knee-jerk reaction. Whipping my head to the side with a huff, a soft laugh came from behind me. “Quit fidgeting. It’s almost perfect.” A beat of silence passed along with a couple pulls of my hair. “There. It’s perfect.”

I looked back to Elain, her rosy cheeks amplified by the golden light pouring in through the open window to our chamber. “Not crooked this time?”

She placed a hand to her chest in mock offense. “It was you, who placed a crooked bow in my hair in case you’ve forgotten.”

I giggled. She wasn’t wrong. My Elain, my friend and my lover, someone who mirrored my own soft femininity while wielding a strength that I admired deeply. Two souls brought together by fate. I loved her to the very marrow of my bones.

And Azriel, my soulmate, my passionate lover. The foundation that kept me standing through the most tumultuous of times. I loved him now more than ever. His strength, his protective instincts, his loyalty and honor, his acceptance, and the way he could wring pleasure from my needy body like nobody else, Elain’s too. A male of many talents, indeed.

We were his girls to care for and he showed us daily how his heart overflowed for both of us. And we were able to bring his guard down enough that those walls that had erected over years of war and turmoil, lowered so we could care for him like he cared for us. We could fight enemies at dawn, and share chocolate croissants on picnic blankets along the sidra at sunset. Live a life so soft and lovely one moment, and full of desperation and passion the next. We were not defined by who we loved, but how we loved. And for our trio? It was everything.

————————————

General ACOTAR tags: @lilah-asteria @thecollegecowgirl @mochibabycakes @nickishadow139

[heavywithourbabies]

Going Feral

The wooden chair beneath Abby creaked softly. She couldn’t see her feet, but she felt their width, expanding over the past several days, radiating with soft pain. Her tank top, having given up its pursuit, hung limply over her engorged breasts, large circles of moisture encompassing each nipple. Having forgone panties that morning, she slid the hem up over her monstrous belly, noticing the convex line stretching vertically, dissecting her belly into two hemispheres.

“That’s what I am now - a globe.” She thought sadly to herself. She was a world containing two, wriggling baby boys who refused to emerge. She remembered her hunger for cum. Back when her stomach was flat and untouched, she yearned for that stickiness deep within her womb. But She didn’t realize this would be the result: a body foreign to her, blown up to caricature proportions, working against her. And the ceaseless hunger between her thighs.

She had met David online through a forum about breeding and the pair instantly shared a connection. It wasn’t long before messages over Reddit turned into texts and phone calls. When he finally revealed where he lived she was almost in shock. He was less than an hour’s drive away from her. She was apprehensive about this but couldn’t deny the fact she was more than just drawn to him. She ached for him. He would make her laugh and was refreshingly earnest and empathetic. A kind and gentle man that had a biting sarcastic tongue and was just as intelligent as she was. All of these factors made her attracted to him. But it was his other side that made her desperate for him to fill her. When he was aroused he became an almost completely different person. His voice would go deeper and when he was excited he couldn’t help but growl with excitement. Driven by desire he would whisper the filthiest things she had ever longed to hear and she was reduced to knee shaking orgasms when she heard him cum. There really wasn’t any way to fight the eventuality. She gave in and agreed to see him. She told herself that she wouldn’t sleep with him on the first date. She swore up and down that she wouldn’t give in to her own libido. That she wouldn’t dare tempt her want to be taken and claimed by this man.

5 hours later after they first met face to face, she was on the edge of the bed with her legs up and over his shoulders as he mercilessly drove into her. The sheets beneath her drenched in sweat and her own cum. She begged and pleaded with him to fill her, an endless mantra in her head kept saying “cuminmecuminmeohpleaseohpleasecuminmecuminmeeeee”.

As she felt his cock twitch inside of her and his pace quickened she couldn’t believe how loud her orgasm was when he snarled “Do you want to be my swollen pregnant cum dumpster?”

She was silently ashamed of that. That something so crude and misogynistic would bring her such pleasure. Little did she know that was exactly what he would reduce her to in the following nine months.

Her life completely turned upside down. First there were the positive test results she cried over. The doctor’s appointment that confirmed the news. Having to tell her parents who seemed so disappointed. And then telling him. He could barely contain his joy or how eager he was to take care of her. Abby tried to tell herself that she could do this mostly on her own and that she would handle the hardships but once she found out it was twins she began to panic. As she swelled larger and heavier with David’s babies she lost more and more control over her life and her body. It was if carrying his sons only made her want him more. To give in to him. To let him own her. She couldn’t resist or deny his want for her and that also seemed to get worse the larger she grew. One time during the 6th month she found herself crying as she was unable to fit into a former favorite dress. She turned to him and whimpered “I’m so pregnant” and the next thing she knew she could barely catch her breath after three straight hours of the most intense sex she had ever had. It didn’t matter to him that she was tender and sensitive all over or that she was the mother of his children. It didn’t matter to her either. They both just gave in more and more to their basic instincts and became two wild animals fucking each other with abandon. It was at the start of her third trimester that she quit her job and moved into the secluded house with him. And that’s where she stayed, growing bigger every day and waiting for his return.

It was late in the day, and she knew he would be home soon. She was a week overdue with the boys and she was more desperate than ever. She literally hoped he would fuck the babies out of her. That his thrusts would be so hard that her water break over both of them. All she wanted was to safely play at breeding. Now she would give anything to finally have the babies out of her. She would cry over the cumbersome weight of her belly that taxed her hips so. She wanted them out. She wanted her libido under control. She wanted to think straight and to have her light body back. She wanted herself back and to try and forget the swollen sex crazed creature she had allowed herself to devolve into.

A wave of exhaustion washed over her like a heat wave, and she didn’t want to move. But she knew she needed to be ready. She had promised him that today she would finally start getting things together and the house would be cleaned. They had made a pact last night as they finally calmed down on their soaked sheets that they would do better and have more control over themselves.They were even going to get the nursery ready on Saturday. She leaned forward bending her knees to stand, and the edge of her chair softly clipped her exposed and engorged clit. There was no pain, but she cringed before she even felt the bolt rush between her legs. Suddenly she was leaking down her aching thighs. She could feel the moisture coating her lips, her legs moving easily against each other as her natural lubrication entered overdrive.

Pressing both palms against the oak table, she tried to steady herself, one breeze away from collapsing with the hunger in her sex. Her knees bent as she pushed back against the desire she felt.

“I can’t be like this. I can’t let myself react this way.” She thought for the millionth time.

Remembering the rough, delicious romp that brought her here, running over the memory of him pumping his cum into her unprotected cunt, she dropped a hand to her clit. Her arm circles around the globe, stretching, stretching a little more. Slowly, She rotated two fingers in circles. Her belly bumped up against the table edge gently. Her head droped back as her lips parted with a gasp. Her other hand caressing the top of her stomach. “Your daddy do this to me,” She thought. “Your daddy made me this way. And I like-“

She heard his car pulling up and parking outside. She turned quickly as she could and began slowly waddling her way across the room to retrieve some pants, shorts, a skirt - anything. The engine turns off. A door opens, slams. And the softer sound of gravel under boots. She is still bottomless, her chest heaving with desire, her face flushed, and her pussy drenched. She had wasted another day going from one extreme to another. Moping and feeling sorry for herself or unable to keep her hands off of her own body.

David entered and saw her there. Without realizing what he was doing he took in a deep breath, smelling her pheromones permeating the air. His hand instinctively went to the crotch of his jeans and he had to fight himself to pull it away. “God that smell” he thought. It was everywhere now. That deep earthy musky scent that made it hard to think. It had gotten steadily worse as Abby entered the third trimester and it seeped off of her in waves. “She’s just started her ninth month. What will it be like in a week? Two?” David thought as he silently put down the grocery bags on the kitchen counter. “Will we be nothing more than animals fucking each other raw?”. He began to put away the items he purchased for the two of them. Soon to be four. “And what about the twins if we keep up like this? What if I can’t help myself and hurt her or send her into labor when she’s not ready?” David looked towards Abby who was stretching as best she could with her hands on the small of her back. The massive dome of her belly shot out into the air. New angry red stretch marks had appeared and he could see the veins in the taut firm skin. “What if she begs me to stop but I won’t because I can literally feel her contracting around my cock?” David groaned at the idea as he felt himself twitch in his pants. It was almost like he could feel the weight of his full testicles sitting on his warm thigh. It was starting to hurt. David tried to focus by looking at their home and any hopes he had for normalcy were put out. Half of the clothes which he had washed were still sitting in the basket while the rest had been thrown all over in a frenzy. “She couldn’t find anything comfortable to wear” he noted. Dishes still sat untouched and stacked on the kitchen counter and sink. The kitchen floor was covered in crumbs and take out boxes sat untouched by the mounting garbage bags. Random “debris” was everywhere. Items they had knocked over and slammed into when they tore into each other were still strewn about. She hadn’t done anything all day.

He sighed as felt useless frustration rise up inside of himself. We just - we talked about this -"He stopped dead in his tracks when he looked at her. She had tears welling up in her eyes as she stood there, feet aching from the weight. “I’m sorry” she trembled as her left hand caressed her massive belly. The other hand was below her belly with a mind of its own. Her fingers running through the dark thicket that grown wild and taken over. “I don’t want to be like this” She whimpered as a tear ran down her cheek. Her dark nipples were rock hard and poking through the soggy material of her tank top.

[moanz111]

final round - choi san

🥊 pairing: boxer/fighter!choi san x boxing coach!gn!reader

🥊 genre: angst, fluff, strangers to lovers, dystopian au

🥊 summary: surviving in a city of outlaws has never been easy, with your days filled with emptiness and fear, and your only comfort being the weekly boxing matches in an underground club. but when you accidentally meet san, promising you a new beginning, your whole world is about to turn upside down.

🥊 featuring: biker!hwa; biker!yeosang; boxing coach/manager!wooyoung; cowboy(????)!mingi; oc!jay

🥊 wc: 5.9 k

🥊 warnings/tags: english is not my native language so there can be mistakes; descriptions of fighting/injuries/bleeding; setting is inspired by ateez's lore and the outlaw album (it's not accurate, just took some details from it, terminology can be inaccurate); use of pet names (angel); reader has an older brother; jay (reader's friend) doesn't represent any real person; there can be inaccuracies about boxing (i tried my best); mentions of guns/shooting (no one is harmed!!); repressive government; mentions of loss of family members/friends; reader is a bartender too; descriptions of kissing; lmk if i've missed something

credits for all the used graphics belong to their rightful owners!

🥊 note: happy (late) birthday to one of my favourite artists and people, sannie!

after all, i decided to post this fic even though i'm on a break lmao i feel a little bit more comfortable with posting it now and am doing better! and also i just couldn't wait to share this with you so...

i had so much fun writing this and got so inspired by ateez's album that i just had to do something about it. i'm trying a different genre this time so i hope you enjoy reading it!!

also, i'm super awkward when writing kissing scenes, help.

any form of feedback is greatly appreciated so don't be shy to reblog with your thoughts, comment or send me an ask! it really means a lot to me and keeps me motivated!

Sweat dripped down your forehead, tickling your chin and neck as you gripped tightly the ring ropes, lunging your body forward with excitement. Even though you’d never admit it out loud, the adrenaline running through your veins during the intense boxing matches you attended every weekend made you feel more alive than ever. The way the two boxers threw fierce punches at each other was not exactly abiding by the game’s rules but no one around you seemed to care or even notice. 

Living in a world where tomorrow might never come, these were the only moments you could be your most authentic self without the mask of acquiescence on. This world was sick, filled with horrors and demons, haunting you even in your dreams and watching your every step. However, this world was beautiful too, filled with secretly exchanged hopeful glances and little reasons to look up at the grey sky, praying better days would come. 

What you were doing right now - smiling, screaming, the sole act of feeling was illegal but the thrill that filled your body was something you were willing to risk your life for. You had made your decision a long time ago - the rules didn’t matter to you anymore. 

“A win for Black Serpent,” you heard the referee shout in an attempt to fight the hundreds of voices, drowning his own as the champion threw his red boxing gloves at the public. Blue and purple marks painted his features and his almost closed left eye was swollen but the triumphant grin plastered on his face told you, as usual, his injuries were not one of his problems. 

Such a show-off, you thought when your friend waved at you from the ring, flexing his biceps proudly. It wasn’t surprising to you that he won tonight’s match. During the few years you’d known Jay, you’d never seen him lose. Having been a professional competitor in the past, as he had told you when you first met, the underground club’s matches were his way to escape the harsh reality and remember the good old times. 

Plus, you’d seen the bags full of cash from bets after a successful night. After all, that was why you had become his “accomplice” or as he liked referring to you - his devil accountant. The job was simple enough and you didn’t mind the extra income - working as a bartender at the local bar came with its perks but with the money you made you could never possibly afford a place of your own, neither did it give you the comfort you could run away one day from this awful blackhole. So you gladly kept track of the bets for Jay’s matches and sometimes you even helped him train as you knew a thing or two about boxing yourself.

Tonight was no different. As you pushed your way through the crowd, collecting the bills, you saw a lot of familiar faces who greeted you warmly. At least some of them. Others - weren’t so friendly, swearing and even refusing to give you the money, overcome by anger after losing, but they knew better than to test you. No one wanted Jay’s wrath upon them. 

“I think you forgot about me, angel,” you heard a raspy voice behind you just as you were about to call it a day and go to the locker room where Jay was waiting for you. Turning around, you were, to say the least confused. The man before you wore a grey hoodie over his head, hiding his features, and matching sweatpants, looking nothing like the usual visitors of the fight club. He was tall but muscular - you could see it even though his baggy clothes left much to the imagination. His broad shoulders and confident stance told you he was much more than he led you to believe. Was he another competitor? 

Looking down at his stretched-out hand, you saw a few bills folded in his palm. A cat-like smirk formed on your lips. “Though night for you, huh?” “I don’t like voting in favour of my biggest competition,” the man laughed as you took the money, writing down the amount in your notebook. Jay was going to be pleased with tonight’s profit which meant another celebration for him and another babysitting gig for you. 

However, the stranger’s words made you wonder what exactly his intention was. If he was telling the truth, then why bother betting if Jay was his next match? With his face engulfed in shadows and mystery, his aura alone sent shivers down your spine, alarming you for danger. Taking a step away from the man, you folded your arms before your chest. “What is your deal?”

He tilted his head to one side, regarding you quietly like a predator about to chase his next prey. Closing the distance between you in a matter of seconds, he leaned down to your right ear, whispering softly, his breath hot against your neck, “You’ll find out soon, angel.”

Still in a daze after your encounter with the stranger, you watched him pull away from you, shooting you one last mischievous smirk before diving into the crowd. Shaking your head, you let out a deep sigh. 

Trouble always found its way to you.

The deafening sound of the morning alarm, signaling it was time for everyone to go to work, rang in your ears as you walked to the bar where you worked during the day. The sun was still hiding under the horizon and the sky was painted in a mix of deep blue, purple, and orange. The streets were empty without a single soul in sight except you and the black stray cat that accompanied you every day on your way. It brought you a sense of comfort - to have a small friend by your side in these lonely times of the day. 

Forming genuine connections with other human beings was almost impossible. There were many stories about heartless betrayals, travelling from person to person in this city of outlaws. Today’s friend could easily turn into tomorrow's enemy. However, right now this place was your everything and all you could do is learn how to survive. You’d heard of other faraway cities where people had it way worse than you did and were much more repressed by the titanic power of the Guardians. Sometimes you were even grateful you were surrounded by outcasts and criminals rather than a white sea of masks, pointing guns at your face. 

Here, the inhabitants had found their ways of rebelling right under the government's nose without being noticed and the bar you were currently opening was one of their favourite places to do it. You'd witnessed hundreds of pieces of intel being exchanged for contraband and hundreds of unfulfilled plans for the future dying under the dim yellow lights. Still, no one gave up. That was the only rule everyone followed wholeheartedly - better surrender and lose your life than give up your dreams and hopes and become a dead man walking.

Pushing your thoughts away, you braced yourself for yet another day during which you had to take on the role of the oblivious bartender. Your job was to keep your mouth shut and eyes closed so when you saw one of your regulars enter the building, looking suspiciously around, you almost laughed.

“Good morning, Mingi,” you greeted him leaning on the broom you were swiping the floor with to take a proper look at him. His cowboy boots and hat, the usual, now shabby, long brown coat and the chains dangling at his neck as he walked slowly towards you gave away that he was meeting someone important today. The tall and lean man oozed confidence and threat just by standing and you were glad you were on his good side. 

You'd met Mingi on your very first day as a bartender and quickly developed a soft spot for him. You weren't aware of exactly what he was doing except sitting around with you and being a menace to your boss but there were dozens of wanted posters around the city, including on the wall behind the countertop you mixed beverages on. The portrait drawing sure did him justice and you'd always been perplexed as to how the Guardians hadn't caught him yet. 

In your eyes Mingi was good-natured and considerate, always asking about your day and throwing a joke or two to make you smile but you'd seen his nasty side too. That was why when he pulled out his pistol from his holster belt and placed it on top of the bar as he sat down on his usual spot, you felt shivers run down your spine. 

“Don't worry, Y/N,” said Mingi, turning to look at you with a reassuring smile. If you got paid every time you heard him say this before destroying everything and everyone on his way, you would've been a millionaire. Sighing heavily, you walked over to him to stand behind the bar and took his pistol in your hands. Earning a surprised squeal from the man, you shook your head.

“You're the reason I'm not getting paid, cowboy. The amount of repairs we’ve made in a month is insane.”

“I'm sorry,” Mingi answered with a pout. Your boss wasn't going to be happy he came here again. You could only imagine the old man's smile as he put up these wanted posters. Hell, if he could turn in Mingi himself, he would be on cloud nine. “But be careful and don't shoot anyone.”

“You worry about yourself,” you sighed and pointed behind him. A young man was entering the bar, humming an unknown-to-you melody and carrying a bag over his shoulder. Sunglasses hid his eyes and a grin showed off his dimples. 

“You didn't tell me your friend was such a beauty, Mingi,” the man whistled, eyeing you from head to toe after he removed his glasses, placing them on top of his head. You felt heat burn up your cheeks and you found it hard to hold his intense stare. Now being able to properly look at his face, some sort of recognition passed through your mind but you couldn't wrap your head around where you'd seen him before. 

As the newcomer sat down next to Mingi, you couldn't stifle your laugh this time. They reminded you of a comedic duo from the comic books you used to read as a child, now long gone and turned into ashes, with the newcomer dressed casually in a black and white shirt, the fabric flowing around his body and a few buttons undone, showing his collarbones, and Mingi in his “official” attire with a serious look on his face and furrowed brows. 

“Don't even think of laying a finger on Y/N, Wooyoung,” warned Mingi as your friend took out a white envelope from his coat’s pockets, handing it to the other man. A silent look, holding thousands of words, was exchanged by them before Wooyoung swiftly hid it under his shirt. “We can talk comfortably here. They won't say anything.”

“My lips are sealed,” you made a motion as if you locked them with a key and threw it in Wooyoung’s direction, earning a loud laugh from him.

“I like them. We should recruit them.”

“Absolutely no,” Mingi sternly refused, scolding both of you with a  glance. “Let's talk business now.”

Mindlessly washing the shot glasses and polishing them, you listened to the two men’s conversation, pretending none of what they said was surely granting them a death sentence. The images they described with pretty words and empty promises filled your heart with longing for a distant land where everything you'd ever dreamt of was real. 

Where there existed other sounds - other than your heartbeat and the screeching alarm.

Where you could look up at the sky and see the stars - not the brown clouds of dust and pain.

Where emotions like sorrow and fear were replaced by joy and comfort. 

So you listened and listened until you'd memorised every single sentence, hoping to dream of this new world tonight.

“The others will call for us soon. We just need to wait for a sign,” said Wooyoung, getting up from his seat and stretching his limbs. “San has a match tomorrow so if- no…when he wins, we'll have enough money for the next mission.” 

A match?

A lightbulb lit up at the back of your mind as your memories took you to last night’s events. The stranger's words made much more sense than before and you were pretty sure you'd seen Wooyoung, lurking in the shadows and grinning after Jay’s final victorious blow. Keeping this information to yourself, you remained silent even when Wooyoung gave you a knowing look. 

“His opponent is pretty tough and so is his coach…,” he trailed off, playing with his silver earrings, shimmering under the first morning rays. 

“Good luck then. I'll see you in a week,” Mingi answered, shaking his accomplice’s hand as he too got up to leave. Glancing at you, he placed a few bills on the counter, way too many than needed. “For the special service today.”

“You don't have to-”

“And a bet for Black Serpent.”

“Jerk,” whined Wooyoung, rolling his eyes and earning another warning look from Mingi to whom you returned the pistol you took earlier. “I look forward to our little dance tomorrow, Y/N.”

Giving you a playful wink, Wooyoung took his bag and trailed after Mingi who was already striding to the exit, talking about manners and social norms which you found amusing.

At least, he didn't vandalise property today.

“The underdog vs. the big champion, huh,” Jay hummed as he traced his finger over his opponent's name on the list, placed at the fight club’s entrance. The match was only a few hours away and unable to sleep from excitement, you'd dragged your friend to the ring to practice some extra time. You didn't know what kind of fighter San was but better be prepared than sorry later. The rumors about him going around in the underground club didn’t give you much information either - some said he was ruthless and vicious, others - just a showoff. One thing was sure though - he had an incredible win rate with his name at the top of the rank list at least once a month. 

“Isn't it a bit cocky to call yourself the big champion,” you teased Jay as you pushed him inside the locker room so he could change into his practice clothes. You noticed one other locker was closed and were curious who else would've come here at that time of the day. Only champions and their coaches were allowed in when there wasn't a match. 

“I know my worth, Y/N,” Jay sighed while rolling bandages over his wounded knuckles. The bruises from his last match were still visible on his body and you wondered if they ever healed. You also mentally noted he had cut his hair down to a buzzcut again. He was serious about tonight then. Not that you expected anything different. San was the only person who could challenge him for his title. “I'm not a loser.” 

“Sure, now get up. We have a lot of work to do.”

“Jay, cover-up,” you shouted while monitoring your friend’s warm-up match, feeling your nerves slowly getting to you. You weren't exactly surprised when you found out the other fighter in the club and Jay’s opponent was the stranger you’d met the other night and of course, Wooyoung was his cornerman and manager. 

San’s presence turned coaching Jay into a challenge, unlike any other time. His movements were practiced and calculated, his punches swift and precise. The white tank top he was wearing revealed his toned body and well-defined muscles and made you stare more than to your liking. His sharp features and handsome face mixed with his professionalism were a weapon San used well on the ring since you could see Jay was intimidated probably for the first time. Wooyoung’s annoyingly proud smile didn't help either.

Blood was dripping down San’s chin from a cut, gifted to him by Jay after one of his blows, and sweat formed on his forehead as he counterattacked, delivering a strong punch on your friend's face. Their match resembled a passionate and intimate dance that you weren't supposed to witness. Their pride and skills were on the line. 

“Parry, Jay,” you once again yelled and seconds later the final bell rang, putting an end to their spar before your friend could react, taking a painful hook from San. Getting up from your chair, you went up to the ring and handed Jay a water bottle which he splashed on his face with a groan. You praised yourself for taking your first aid kit before leaving your apartment. If he was so beaten up right now, you didn't want to imagine what both of them were going to look like by the end of the night.

“You sure know a lot about boxing, Y/N,” San said, breathing heavily as he took his gloves off, throwing them at Wooyoung. It was the first time he addressed you directly today and you were taken by surprise when he jumped off the ring, coming closer to you. His face was glistening and his brown eyes were burning with passion you'd never seen before. Sure, Jay enjoyed fighting but you knew it wasn't the same as it used to be for him. San, however, had the eagerness to learn and win as a newbie even though his skills made you believe he was as good as a coach. Maybe even better than most. “Where did you learn?”

“Let's say I'm very observant,” you answered quietly, trying to avert his attention away from you and the topic. Still, the sting in your heart, forming as memories flooded your mind reminded you of the past you were so willing to escape from. You could still smell the distinctive scent of your brother’s gloves. The thrill that came with each victory. The pain that filled your being after leaving your past life behind without looking back. What had even happened with your family and friends? Were they alive? Were they safe?

“I'd call this more than just “being observant”,” Wooyoung joined the conversation, pulling you out of your thoughts. He put his arm around your shoulders, squeezing them tightly and you whined. “We hit the jackpot, San.”

“What do you mean?” 

“We have an offer for you, Y/N.”

The next few months after the official match between San and Jay passed in a daze for you. Someone had to pinch you. Hard.

Wooyoung, you’d realised, was a gambling addict. There wasn't any other logical explanation behind his behaviour. Whatever you did or said, he turned into a bet out of which only one of you could emerge as a winner.

So just like that, after that practice match, he and San had made a proposal that was too difficult to decline and simple enough to follow. If San won, you'd coach him for his next matches and join their small group of outlaws. As they told you - they needed someone competent on their side. If Jay won, you'd go on your way and forget about it. Not that this was possible. 

You would've lied if you’d said you had been surprised when San delivered the final victorious blow that night. Secretly, you had hoped for this turn of events not much to your friend’s liking. While you were patching up his wounded and bleeding face, whispering comforting words, your betraying heart was accelerating with your mind plagued by thoughts of San. 

Today was no different. As you watched San practice his kicks on a punching bag in the fight club, you caught yourself blushing at one of his particularly precise deliveries. Boxing is my thing, I guess, you thought when he halted his movements to drink some water and pulled his tank top over his head, showing off his toned body.

Moments like this were routine for you at this point - just both of you sitting in silence, only his heavy breathing audible - him practicing and you observing. San’s progress was outstanding and this left you jobless - he didn’t need your directions anymore that much. You didn't feel the need to fill the space with small talk or pointless conversations when you were with him and thought of him as someone who had always been part of your life.

Intimidating at first glance, San was, in reality, the kindest person you had ever met. He cared deeply about the people he loved, always making sure to put them first above everything else. He was also thoughtful and considerate - attentive to everyone’s needs and was always there when you needed him the most. San brought you comfort unlike anyone else and you told him things you hadn't even dared before. Your relationship was progressing fast - with a lot of skipped steps, blurring the line between friends and lovers but you didn't mind. Labels weren't needed for you to feel what you did towards him. Not when you had so few opportunities to be together.

You two often daydreamed about this new world he and his friends liked talking about. He wanted to stop fighting - hurting people was what he hated doing the most but their group needed the money desperately. There was no other choice for him but to sacrifice himself every day. San, instead, wanted to build a home for his loved ones and create a safe space for them where they could be together and where he could protect them.

“You can't protect everyone, San”, you had told him the day he shared his plans with you while both of you were sitting on the cold floor of the locker room, shoulder to shoulder. His proximity had your head spinning and you found it hard to focus on his words. San held your hands, tracing circles mindlessly on them, before bringing them to his lips.

“I have to do what I can, though. I can't just give up on any of you,” he had answered, whispering into your skin, goosebumps forming all over your body. Before that, you hadn't considered yourself that important to him and his words made your heart skip a few beats. 

“I know what it feels like…,” The lump in your throat and the painful memories of your family had tears forming in your eyes that you tried blinking away. No point in crying when you didn't have the power to change the past. San brought his big hands to your face, cupping your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, and you tried pulling away. The pity and guilt in his eyes were something you wanted to erase forever. 

“You can't just run away from your demons, Y/N. Sometimes you have to face them.”

So you had wept in his arms, telling him your life's story for the first time and he had brushed every fear, doubt, and pain away with his soft touches and gentle gaze. 

You had grown up in the Outlaw City’s outskirts, in a restricted area where the Guardians’ influence and presence weren't as noticeable. The people were happy - you remembered seeing children playing freely, people reading and drawing and creating with all their might without being disturbed. 

Your parents were ordinary people, working ordinary jobs and living an ordinary life. You and your older brother, however, were nothing like them. The fighting rebellious spirit was something you had no idea who passed down to both of you but you were grateful to whoever ancestor was responsible for it. 

You two always found ways to get into trouble - from stealing a guitar from one of the contraband gangs in the city to compose silly songs to your brother learning how to box only to enter underground tournaments to earn some extra income for your family. He had learned from the older kids a trick or two and you had made it your life's purpose to follow him around until he taught you too. 

You missed those days dearly. The mornings when you would spar together under the blazing sun for hours. The nights when you would go to the restricted area of the city to fight and then run back home with the money you'd made before someone else took it from you. Every day was a game of survival, but you were happy. You had your brother - your only pillar in this dark world.

Until one day everything changed. 

That day, the Guardians had come in groups to your city, taking every child or adult in their way, destroying every last piece of safety. You remembered your last moments with your family before they took them away. Your brother screaming at you to run, your father fighting the white-dressed Guardian, and your mother crying in fear. You had tried saving them but to no avail. At least, you didn't know if they had survived and there was no one you could ask. Five years had passed since. 

You found your new home in Outlaw City where everyone was a runaway like you and where no one would ask where you'd come from. Your only resolve was to pray that your family was safe and sound and that one day you would find them. This time you were more prepared than ever, you were ready to protect them at the price of anything. So as San wiped away your tears with his thumbs, you felt the heavy burden of your past lift itself from your shoulders. 

“I hate myself for leaving them every day, San,” you confess with a shaky voice, trying to calm yourself down. 

“The only thing you could do is survive, angel,” he whispered, putting his hands on your shoulders, and squeezing them. Looking at his bruised face, you reminded yourself that everyone here carried their own scars - both visible and invisible, and your heart hurt even more. “It was the same for me. I had to leave my family behind when I came here so I found a new one. Not that it’ll ever stop hurting any less. All eight of us are the same at heart. We all want the same thing.”

A new world to come, you thought and smiled, thinking of Mingi’s passionate speech from the last time you saw him at the bar. He had told you all about their plans and wanted you to be part of them. To join their found family. 

Now, returning to reality, you regarded San curiously and a little afraid as he came to stand in front of your chair, leaning down to place a kiss on top of your head. Blushing at the affection in his eyes, you cleared your throat, searching for the right words. A week had passed since this moment and none of you had said anything about it so you couldn't help but feel flustered at his every word and action towards you.

“How was I today, coach?” San chuckled, gently tracing the sides of your face with his fingertips, rough from the endless fighting. 

“Could be better,” you gave him your usual response, San grinning and showing his dimples. 

“I have to work harder. But maybe if you stared less...”

“And maybe if you paid less attention to me...”

“That's impossible,” San concluded, crouching down, placing his palms on top of your thighs, and you ran your hands through his messy dark locks. With glinting eyes, he excitedly added, “After tonight’s match some of the boys and I will have a meeting. They want you to come.”

“They?”

“I,” the seriousness in his voice made you let out a laugh and your stomach tightened with anticipation. You had only met Mingi and Wooyoung before with the rest of the boys surrounded by a mist of mystery, with only having heard stories about them. The fact that San was letting you get closer to the people he cherished the most didn't help your fluttering heart either.

“Can't wait.”

San had dragged you out of the fight club and drove you to your apartment to freshen up before meeting the boys with his old van that, who knew how, still functioned. As he had told you while focused on the bumpy road ahead, the vehicle had turned into, both a prison and a temporary home for him and Wooyoung while they were on the run from the Guardians. Guilt washed over you when San described all of their sleepless nights, fighting the demons following them right behind even in their dreams while you were hiding between the four walls of the safety of your home. Mingi’s wanted posters, his constant cautiousness, and the silver pistol always attached to his hip made so much more sense now. 

Unfortunately, the Guardians had taken notice of them way too early into their secret operations against the government, and now as you were sitting in front of the boys - their features, illuminated by the dim lighting of the storage house you were in, your heart filled with hurt. In the few hours, you got to know Yeosang and Seonghwa, speeding through the highways every night in search of valuable intel and doing all they could to survive another day, your admiration grew with every next moment spent with them. 

Sitting on one of your favourite fluffy blankets on the floor in a circle, eating an improvised dinner consisting of cold chicken nuggets provided by Yeosang, you felt more at home than ever. Mingi and Wooyoung’s silly bickering and friendly teasing, Seonghwa’s warm welcome, Yeosang’s kind smile, and San’s calming presence next to you, filled you with joy, and for the first time in a while, you forgot about the outside world.

“It’s a pity the others couldn’t come today,” said Seonghwa with a sigh as he passed on to you the chocolate bar all of you were sharing. You hadn’t seen one in ages, nor tasted it. Yeosang had just shrugged indifferently earlier at your genuine surprise, telling you he could get one inside the city for you anytime you craved it. 

So now playing with the piece in your mouth, letting the sweetness tickle your taste buds, you hummed in agreement. The rest of the group had to stay undercover for a little longer before joining you. “They would’ve loved to meet you, Y/N.”

“They will,” San joined, squeezing your hand and rubbing his thumb over it. Turning your head to look at him, you were met with his dark eyes, shimmering with a glow as if hundreds of stars were in them. You slowly found yourself being pulled by the gravity of his gaze, unable to look away. 

“Now, can you two not do this,” whined Wooyoung, earning a playful slap on his thigh from Seonghwa, followed by Mingi and Yeosang’s laughs. “I have to put up with you every day at the club. I’m going to start vomiting rainbows soon.”

“Get a life, Woo,” said Mingi, winking at you. Usually, you could fight back and tease Wooyoung but tonight, embarrassment washed over you after his words. “Leave the lovebirds alone.”

Just then, still holding your hand firmly, San pulled you up gently so now both of you were standing. “Then let’s get out of here.”

The distant hooting of owls, coming deep from the woods, the light chilly late-night breeze, carrying the smell of pines, and San’s warm touch against your skin engulfed your senses, making your head spin. With your eyes closed, all you could do was trust the man as he guided you through the darkness around you. 

“Can I open my eyes,” you asked once again with your previous attempts to get a positive answer out of him being unsuccessful. His deep chuckle vibrated through your body, his hand letting go of yours. Longing for his touch again, you reached forward for him but only brushed through the air. 

“I’ve got you, angel,” San’s raspy voice now came from behind you and you felt him put his hands on your shoulders. “You can open them now.”

The view before your eyes made you tear up and a lump formed in your throat, every word you wanted to utter getting caught up in it. The little fireflies, swinging around in a slow dance around you, their comforting glow, reminding you of those you used to catch in the hot summer nights in front of your childhood house with your brother, the vast field you were standing in the middle of, and the tickling in your legs from the overgrown grass were all images and sensations you thought you’d never see or feel again for the rest of your life.

“How did you find this place,” you whispered, too afraid someone would take this moment away from you. 

“It’s my special place. I think the Guardians have forgotten about it,” said softly San, moving to stand in front of you with a warm smile on his face. “Now I can finally share it with someone else.”

“Do you come here often?”

“Yes, whenever I need to clear my head,” he trailed off, laughing. “And some time away from Wooyoung. The van can be suffocating as much as I enjoy living with him.”

You wondered if this beautiful place was next on the Guardian’s list for destruction. If you’d be able to come back ever again. If it too would disappear with every trace you’d left.

“You’re frowning again,” San’s voice pulled you out of your trance, making you focus on him instead. His face was almost indiscernible in the night, but his eyes and the silver chain, shining around his neck, were illuminated by the moonlight. “You do this often.”

“I guess I’m not used to things like this.” Genuine in a world full of lies. “I feel like you’ll disappear.”

Taking a step closer to you, San put a finger under your chin, your eyes finding his once again. The electrifying feeling of his touch made you dizzy. Now, you could hear his steady heartbeat, with yours drumming in your ears. “I’ll never leave you, angel.”

The moment his lips found yours, enveloping them in a soft kiss, you lost all of your senses and surrendered yourself to him. At first, his touch was gentle as if San was afraid he would hurt you, but once your hands found his neck, your fingers toying with his hair, he got more desperate for you. His own trailed slowly down the sides of your body, wrapping them around your waist and pulling you closer to him. Already out of breath, you felt a fire ignite in your soul that only San could put out. 

He left your lips only to place a few shy kisses down your neck, your heart picking up its rate, slamming against your ribcage. Leaving you gasping and wanting more, San pulled away seconds later, the love and adoration you saw in his eyes making you lose your bearings completely. Cupping your cheeks and bringing his face closer, he rubbed your nose gently with his before placing a kiss on your forehead. 

“The final round is coming soon, Y/N,” he murmured when you closed the distance between you, hugging him around his waist and burrowing your face at the crook of his neck. You took in his scent - woody and musky, hypnotizing you. “We’ll see the new world together.”

Even if that was just an empty promise and even if this new world never came to life, you didn’t care.

All you needed was San there with you - everything else was bearable.

final round, © moanz111

please do not modify, copy, repost, or translate.

[venusandsaturnsrings]

your ears rang as though a gun had gone off mere inches away. blood drained from your face at the scene, a picturesque version of guts and gore, splattered over the degrading concrete at your feet. it was a mess of limbs, teeth, and still squirming organs blown straight from the body of your best friend, as if they’d been nothing but a piñata. not a sound could leave your mouth past heavy gasps for air that didn’t feel like enough in your lungs, mouth drier than it had ever been before. a sharp whistle cut clean through your thoughts and you eyes snapped up and away from the deep merlot staining the ground, the wine of their dead body. a lithe figure sauntered through the narrow beams of light permeating the depths of the sewer, a man it seemed. cool moonlight bathed his face, lined with crude stitches, in a haunting combination of shadows and joy; he looks pleased.

a subzero fingertip traced your jawline he spoke, “well, that was unusually sloppy for me! seems as though their body expanded too fast, a real shame…” a faux pout danced over his lips before they curved into that same chilling grin, “too bad so sad, as you humans would say. how about you make it up to me? c’mon, let’s play a bit!” your mind spun to keep up with his changing tones and unusual words but you stopped on that one sentence. he was making you make it up to him after he killed your friend? a real psycho, definitely, but in the dank underbelly of the sewers you were in no position to flee and you certainly couldn’t fight against this… monster. he took your silence as an agreement, stepping back a few paces and clapping. “fantastic! superb! we’ll play my choice, okay? if you survive, maybe i’ll let you pick the next game,” he paused to giggle in a way that can only be described as manic, “alright, at the end of this tunnel there’s an exit that takes you back up to the streets. we’re gonna race, and if you win then you’re home free! i’ll help you up without a fuss. but if i win,” you feel sweat drip down the back of your neck, “then you’ll be staying here for the rest of… hm… forever!” he cheers at his own words and sends you a less than charming wink, “i’ll count to let you get a head start but after thirty seconds, i’ll be running too. okay, go!”

and his words more than catch you off guard. after maybe two seconds, his smile widens more than a humans should and you realize that was your cue. turning on shaky knees, you nearly slip and fall in the burgundy pool of blood and intestines in your desperate scramble to start sprinting. feet pounding against the ground, you heave and barley notice the tears now slipping down your face wet and salty as they catch on the corner of your mouth. barely in the distance, you can see where the tunnel ends and where a ladder climbs up to the street. you figure as long as he isn’t world class athlete, and which one would be in the sewers killing people, you’ll make it there first and be safe. that’s before a flash of light zips past your peripherals and stops at the end and you realize of course he picked a game you couldn’t win. perched to dangle upside down from one of the higher rungs, is that disgusting excuse of a being, stitches rippling with his smile. you drop to your knees and his laughter sounds like church bells atoning for a sinner.

“shame! you lost this time, little toy. i still have a prize for you though,” he’s in front of you again, “that being my name; mahito. lock it in your small brain and don’t lose it! you’ll need it in the coming however long it takes for me to get bored of you,” mahito boops your nose with a finger so gentle it shouldn’t belong to him.

“c’mon, let me show you to where you’ll be living from now on,” and you’re hoisted into the air, off to whatever corner he calls home.

[dira333]

Akashi kisses are nothing like you’d expected them to be. 

His hands are rough from Basketball as they cradle your face, warm lips press firmly against yours and he’s so impossible close that it hurts. He kisses you like this was always meant to be happening, on a random Monday in between classes and basketball training. He kisses you like the world has turned upside down and his mothertongue is no longer japanese but rather the movement his lips make against yours, as if he’s speaking through touch alone. 

You don’t remember moving your arms or your hands but there’s the sensation of silky hair between your fingers. Your nails lightly catch on his scalp and there’s a sound, breathless and hot, that travels from his mouth into yours. It’s followed by a tongue, wet and warm and so eager to explore. Your knees give out when his tongue touches yours. 

“Are you okay?” Akashi’s still looking a little blurry, even through your glasses. He’s helped you onto the ground where you sit and try to catch your breathe.

“Was it a bit much?” He whispers and his hands hesitantly reach out towards you. You nod weakly and put your left hand into his right, expecting him to pull you up.

He sits down in front of you, instead, holds your hand gently in his, caressing the skin where callouses have formed from scribbling countless notes. 

“I don’t think my heart can take this much.” You tell him when his index finger brushes over your pulse point. 

“We’ll go slow.” He promises. It sounds suave and self assured at first, but then he ducks his head when he adds. “If you let me.”

Through stolen glances and moments, hidden away in the library or when you’re supposed to be studying, you learn that Akashi might seem the perfect man, but he is so much more than that.

He’s ticklish and has trouble sleeping, loves to listen to voice notes of you reading out loud his business textbooks. He wants to hold hands more than anything but usually loses his cool the moment you two are alone, craving your touch like it’s the air he needs to survive.

He’s impatient with kisses but tries to go slow. He’s never even thought of the possibility of leaving a mark and when it does happen, he’s the one running to the store for a good cover up foundation.

You can tell that he wants the world to know that the two of you are a thing. He wants to hold hands everytime you walk in the same direction and tries to come up with reasons as to why he needs to walk you towards any place possible. 

But he’s not into PDA. Kisses are reserved for places where no one can see the two of you. 

And you’re more than fine with that, because the  thought of even holding hands in public makes you break out in cold sweat. You’ve worked up yourself to casually brushing hands when walking next to each other, feeling like the whole world is watching you, thinking how you’re not fit to be his partner. 

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.” Akashi tells you on the drive back from a movie night with the others. Aomine’s staying back at his parents house and Yori had fallen asleep in his bed before the group had even left his place.

Somehow, everyone else filed up into the other cars, leaving you and Akashi to drive back alone. 

“It’s not that I can’t see myself the way you see me.” He tries to interrupt but you click your tongue. “No, I know that I can’t do that, but that’s not the point. The point is that everyone else can’t see me the way you see me. And normaly that would be great because I only want one boyfriend, but it’s just…. You’ve never had to deal with bullying. It’s illogical to you and it is illogical, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still happen.”

“Okay.” He puts his hand on your thigh and squeezes you through the fabric of your trousers. “I don’t mind waiting as long as I’m waiting with you.”

“I love you.” You tell him, the words floating out of you, coming as naturally as a breathe or a sigh would.

“I love you too.”

Excerpt from my long fic “how to make friends as an adult….”

[crossbowandwitches]

What Should I Say? (Fred Weasley x OC)

A/N: Hi! I'm so sorry for the long wait, I was so nervous to carry this on, as this is the first story I've ever actually put out. Hope you enjoy the next part though!

Summary: In the bustling streets of Muggle London, Fred Weasley, known for his mischievous charm and quick wit, stumbles into an unexpected encounter that will turn his world upside down. At an ordinary acting class, he finds himself face to face with the enigmatic Delphine Howard, a woman who seems to have stepped right out of his dreams. However, he soon comes to a heart-wrenching realization: the love he's found in Delphine is a love he can never truly have. Or can he?

Warnings: Use of alcohol, swearing, but eventual smut, angst, stress etc.

Chapters 1 & 2

Word Count: 1540

Chapter 3: Delphine’s POV

I really disliked taking the tube after 8 pm, especially on a warm Friday night, and particularly on the Central line. It always reeked of alcohol or sweat, or both, since this line barely had air conditioning and it was still 23 degrees outside.

I put on my headphones and immersed myself in my favourite album, "If I Can’t Have Love I Want Power" by Halsey, as I embarked on my 15-stop journey from acting class to home.

My phone buzzed, and I saw a message from Russel: "Five Guys tonight?? x" Russel is my boyfriend, although it's complicated. The last thing I wanted was to entertain him tonight. Fridays were always the worst in the office, with endless weekly updates and making sure everything was sorted for the weekend, so I didn’t have to work over the weekend.

"I'm too tired tonight! x," I replied. Instantly, he sent me a sad face emoji. I should be used to this by now, the way he makes me feel bad because I won’t put out for him. He can be a dick, but I always end up going back to him because it's easier than trying again with someone new.

"Next Stop: Bethnal Green Station," I barely heard the announcement over my headphones, but then I realised I was one stop away. I grabbed my bag and made my way to the exit - not before accidentally hitting someone with my bag.

"Shoot, I’m so so-," I looked up and realized I had hit Fred Weasley, the tall and lanky redhead from Wednesday’s acting class.

"Delphine! Delphi!" He quickly corrected himself, knowing I’d prefer to be called Delphi. "Hey! How are you?" he asked.

"I’m good! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you. Are you OK?" My cheeks were going red; I could feel it. I was embarrassed!

“It’s all good, hah!” He reassured me with a little smile. "Are you heading home?" I realized then that I was pulling into my stop and panicked - I didn’t want this chat to end, and I didn’t know why.

"Yes! Oh god, this is my stop! It was lovely to see you." I offered him an apologetic smile before saying a quick goodbye and hopping on the train. I quickly turned around, and we waved at each other.

“I’ll text you!” He shouted out before the doors closed between us. Something about that comment made me excited.

-

Why was my heart racing? It’s just this tall guy from my acting class, this tall, ginger guy, this tall, handsome, cute- I stopped myself from thinking like that. He’s my student, I’m his teacher and that’s that. 

As I came round the corner to my flat, I saw Russel standing outside and instantly dreaded coming home. Russel was around 5’8, with shoulder length brown hair. He wasn’t unattractive, far from it. He reminded me a little of Jake Gyllenhaal.

I let out a deep sigh as he came over to hug me, “Did you not see my text? I’m tired. Go home please.” He went in to kiss me and I instantly moved my face away. 

“Oh come on, Delphine. I brought dinner.” He grinned and held up a Five Guys takeaway bag, “Your favourite!”

I shook my head, “It’s /your/ favourite.” I headed up the two flights of stairs that lead to my flat with Russel following suit. “I’m really not in the mood tonight. Let's just plan something Sunday, please?” I pleaded but he was in the door the second after I unlocked it. 

“I’m here now, gorgeous. Come on, don’t be rude to your guest!” He shouted out, he was already heading to the kitchen to find drinks, probably something alcoholic. 

I let out an internal scream before kicking my Converse off at the door and locking it. I wish I was still on the tube with Fred. 

Chapter 4: Fred’s POV

As the train pulled away, I just couldn’t stop thinking about her. Was it wrong that I was thinking about her like this? 

“Fuck it.” I muttered to myself before pulling my phone out and the business card she gave me. I saved her number and sent her a quick text, ‘It’s Fred, from acting class. Hope you got home safe.’ 

The train finally reached my stop, and I stepped out into the busy station. I was heading to a party that George invited me to, he practically forced me to come. When I arrived, it was already packed, with music blaring from speakers, and people dancing, laughing and chatting in every corner. 

“There you are, Freddie!” George was already ushering me over to a group of friends before I had a chance to breathe, “Come and meet my friends.”

I constantly checked my phone and I could see George giving me weird looks, no way was I going to tell him why, but I must have been three drinks down when Delphi texted me back; 

‘Hey Fred, thanks! I got home safe :)’ I was grinning ear to ear, but instantly stopped myself when George came over. 

“Who you texting?” He asked, one eye raised. He was onto me. 

“Huh? Nothing.” I was bright red, George wasn’t going to let this go, so I popped my phone into my back pocket and went back to the party. 

-

By the time I decided to call it a night, it was well past 2 am and I had quite a bit to drink. I called George and me an Uber since neither of us was in a position to get any form of public transport. 

When we finally reached my flat, it was already 3 am. I fumbled with my keys, eventually managing to unlock the door and stumble inside. I collapsed onto my bed, my head spinning and my thoughts instantly on Delphi. 

Without even thinking, I grabbed my phone and texted her back, ‘Hey Delphi. Just got back from a party. Hope you had a good night. See you in class. :)’. 

“Shit!” I shouted, almost throwing my phone across the room. “Why did I do that?!” I took a deep sigh before popping my phone down. There was nothing I could do about it now. 

Chapter 5: Delphine’s POV

Russel was already rummaging through my kitchen cabinets. "Where do you keep the wine glasses?" he called out.

"Top shelf, left side," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. I followed him into the kitchen, feeling the weight of the evening pressing down on me.

He found the glasses and poured two generous servings of white wine. "Here you go," he said, handing me one.

I took the glass but didn't drink. "Russel, I really am tired. I just want to relax tonight."

He took a sip of his wine and leaned against the counter, looking at me with a mix of frustration and something else I couldn't quite place. "You always say that, Delphine. When are we going to spend some real time together?"

I sighed, setting the glass down. "It's been a long week. Can we just plan something for Sunday? I promise I'll make it up to you."

Russel's eyes narrowed. "You always say that too. I'm starting to think you don't want to spend time with me at all." …I wonder why.

“I don’t want an argument tonight, Russel.” I said sternly, “Please, go home.”

“God, Delphine. Fine!” He practically threw his glass into the sink, “I’ll just get it somewhere else…” I wasn’t surprised to hear him mutter that under his breath - this is what he did. 

“Yeah, you do that.” I said as I was practically shoving him out the door and slamming the door in his face. I know what you’re thinking, why is she even with this dude? I ask myself this daily, weekly, hourly. It’s like a form of self-punishment, I just keep crawling back. 

“Now that he was gone, I can get on with my evening,” I said to myself as I unpacked my work bag and plugged my laptop in to charge. I rummaged around the bag for my phone and saw I had a text message from Fred. 

When he said he’d text, he meant it - a man that actually delivered.  -

I very rarely check my phone when I wake up, I’m usually rushing to the bathroom or prioritising a coffee first thing. I also don’t set alarms most of the time, I always wake up around 6.30 am, and this morning wasn’t any different. 

I was mid coffee-making when I heard my phone ringing. I didn’t make it back in time to get the call but it was from Russel, no surprise there. He probably hadn’t even gone home yet. I also saw a text message from Fred and chuckled to myself - a drunk text! 

‘Hey Fred, hope the hangover isn’t too bad, see you Wednesday!’ I was debating inviting him to Monday’s class, it was a smaller class, with more experienced actors which wouldn’t be a bad thing, but he’d probably be even more out of his comfort zone. 

I put my phone back and got on with my morning - there was no way he’d text back until this afternoon. 

[waklman]

saw this meme that was like ‘i could recognise him by tits alone’ with a picture of bradley and jake and now i can’t get it out of my head, i need this to be an actual interaction!

BAHAHA this is so funny!!!! *cracks fingers* *whips out keyboard* here you go drew :)

If the unpleasant heat wave sweeping through San Diego wasn’t a testament that summer was starting to settle in—Bradley didn’t want to stick around long enough to know what was. 

It was unbearable—for two reasons, he thinks. One being that he forgot to install the air conditioning–though he promised you he would last week. And two, you were practically punishing him–not allowing him near you under the complaint that your skin is going to melt into his, if he holds you for longer than a second. 

This only means one thing for the both of you. It was time to start calling everyone in your contacts who possibly had a cooling system–and visit them with a surprise basket of cookies, as a guise to cool yourselves off.

“Thanks anyway, Nat.” 

“Sorry again, Bradsha-“ He hangs up before she could even finish saying her apology, throwing his phone off to the side with a groan. Another bead of sweat slips down his brow, and Bradley harshly swipes it away before it can burn into his eye—again. 

By the other end of the couch, you’re still on the phone, giggling with your headphones secured in your ears, which catches Bradley’s full attention. He watches you with furrowed brows–waiting for you to notice his stare, so he could ask who’s on the other line. But you don’t notice his peering eyes. Instead, you laugh again—right in his face.

Bradley’s not a jealous guy. He’s doesn’t get jealous. It’s not jealousy if he pulls you over to see who you find so funny.

Feeling movement by your feet, you still. There’s two large palms pressed against your achilles heel now, and a familiar set of sweaty fingers slowly wrap themselves around the front of your ankle. 

No, you mouth with wide eyes—tilting your phone screen away from your face. 

Yes, he mouths back, eyes narrowed at you. 

His grip finally tightens around your ankles, finalizing the decision, dragging you down towards him with ease. It’s almost as if the universe is working against you because the sweat on your back serves as a lubricant against your leather couch, aiding Bradley in his efforts. 

You shriek—clutching the sides of your phone, so it doesn’t find a landing spot on your face. As you try to recover, Bradley takes the opportunity to hover over you, dipping his head upside down to finally learn who you were talking to all this time.

All you can do is watch as Bradley stares down at the mysterious caller. Jake’s on the other end of the line, shirt completely discarded from his morning run. He’s barely in front of the camera, too busy trying to reach for his protein powder on the top shelf. All that’s showing is his sweaty chest. 

“Oh. It’s just Hangman.” Bradley whispers in realization, pulling himself back into his own seat, retrieving his phone again—without a care in the world.

“Tell Rooster I said hey.” Hangman answers, hearing Bradley’s voice. 

“What?” you laugh in disbelief, pushing yourself up by the elbows. “How’d you know it was him—I—his face wasn’t even in view?!” you ask, bewildered. 

Bradley continues to scroll through his phone as he replies to you. “You kiddin’? I can recognize those tits anywhere.” he scoffs. His eyes suddenly widen, turning to you. “Wait—hey, does he have his air conditioning installed?”

“You can recognize those what—”

Jake cuts you off, “Oh fuck yeah. You guys coming over or what?”

[lookingfts]

One of my favorite stories of yours is a place to rest, amongst a multitude of yours that are really just fantastic reads.

How are those two doing today?

Thank you! I can’t believe I wrote that fic almost two years ago. Here’s a little glimpse into them now.

--

She always knew when Anthony had something on his mind. When he was tangled up in an issue at work, or one of his siblings was involved in drama (constantly), or his mum was going through a rough patch. That little dimple would pop in his forehead, his brows furrowed in concentration, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

“Everything okay?” Kate asked, running her hands through his thick hair. Anthony looked up, pressing his laptop closed, and flashed that warm smile that seemed exclusive to her.

Stretching out his hands, he tugged Kate into his lap, and she went willingly, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Yeah. I’m okay. Just thinking.” Drawing little circles on her hip, Anthony took a breath. “I’m glad you’re here, actually. There’s something I need to run by you.”

“Okay.” Even before they’d gotten married and officially merged their lives together, Anthony had sought her opinion on personal and business matters alike. He trusted her to tell him the truth, and even when they disagreed – sometimes passionately – they always managed to find a way forward.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” Anthony said, deliberately as though he was searching for the right words. “And I want to buy Journey’s End from your mum when she’s ready to retire.”

The words soaked in slowly, and Kate blinked at him. “What?”

“I talked to Mary about it last weekend. She was thrilled. But I want you to be on board too.” His hand tightened on her hip, his expression so earnest that her heart skipped a beat. “I want it to stay in your family. Our family. Besides, it has sentimental value to me, too. It’s where I fell in love with my wife, you know.”

Kate laughed thickly, remembering the sad girl who hid behind her responsibilities to avoid living. Until a smug, rude viscount happened upon her corner of the world and turned everything upside down.

She didn’t even feel like the same person anymore. Maybe no one had it all, but Kate thought she was pretty close. A challenging but fulfilling career, a strong marriage, a solid relationship with her family. And even more incredible things on the way.

“We’ll hire people we trust to run it,” Anthony said quickly, mistaking her silence for hesitation. “We can be involved as much or as little as you want. Maybe one day our kids will want to be involved.” His hand rested on her stomach, only the smallest curve visible. None of their friends knew yet, and she could tell it was killing Anthony not to shout it from the rooftops. “It wasn’t your dream to run it. And I’m selfishly glad about that. But we could still keep your father’s legacy alive.”

Tears welled in her eyes, beading on her lashes. Kate had never faced a harder decision than walking away from the thing her father had worked so hard for. Accepting that following in his footsteps wasn’t the only way to honor his memory, especially if it was holding her back from what she was really meant to do.

But Anthony was offering her the chance to do both. To live her life in London, with him, while ensuring that her father’s dream wouldn’t fall into the hands of someone else. Someone who would never understand what it meant, would never see all the sweat and tears and love that lived within its walls.

There weren’t many men who would have known how important her father’s legacy was, but Anthony did. He knew better than anyone how badly Kate wanted to do right by him, even after he was gone. Especially after he was gone, and could only live on through her and Mary and Edwina. And, in six months or so, through their child.

“Are you sure?” she asked, tears spilling onto her cheeks now, and Anthony’s face softened as he brushed them away.

“Of course. I’ve already run the numbers on it. Plus, Mary could retire when she wants and not have to feel guilty. She’ll have the money to live off and know that it won’t just get torn down and turned into ugly flats.”

Taking her hand in both of his, Kate pressed a kiss to his knuckles, feeling almost incapable of containing the affection swelling inside her. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“You’re happy?”

“So happy.”

“Good.” He kissed her, soft and tender, and she knew he felt the same. “I’m dying for chai, want some?”

She chuckled, brushing her nose against his. “Definitely.”

[nothingkillsyoulikeyourmind105]

“Chaos Was Her Name” Chapter 3

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

Pairing- Konig x reader *call sign (phantom)*

Summary- König has been going to therapy for his depression and self isolation. That lands him in the therapists office when one mission goes wrong. But his whole world is gonna be turned upside down. Recently joining the 141 Task Force he keeps to himself. But things are gonna change.

Minors DNI - 🛑🚫❗️

TW-Mentions Blood, Death, Unprotected P in V Sex, Size Kink, Fluff, Pining, Some Angst, Lack of Sleep, Comforting, Praising Kink. Obsessive! König!

I did use Google Translate feel free to correct me.

A/N-I do not claim credit for the artwork. I do try to credit the source. I do apologize in advance if I offended anyone. I will do my best in the future to try to look up the names of the artists and credit them. Artwork Credit to @ave661

Previously in Chapter Two

Ghost glanced at her he crouched down with his weapon drawn walking carefully through the snow. The snow had started to falling again covering the ground and their tracks again. The cold breeze his her small body. She shivered while walking behind Ghost.

König stayed close to her watching their surroundings but his line of vision constantly wandered to her ass and her legs.

König inner dark thoughts.

“I wonder what it feels like to have her legs wrapped around my waist as I fuck her brains out against the wall.”

Trailing behind her she crept through the darkness with her night vision glowing green on her eyes. She kept silent.

Approaching the the fence she crawled up the fence going first creeping up on her prey. Unsheathing her knife she grabbed him piercing his flesh watching the crimson fluid rush down her victim chest and gear she pulled the knife out and continued to eliminate all the guards.

König watched with a devious smile under his hood. Watching her in her element. Something about the gore and the smell of gunpowder and dirt and sweat aroused him. As if a beast in him had awaken and there his mate walked before him. Clenching his fist he fought the urge off from taking her right then and there.

She followed closely behind Ghost. Keeping her gun aimed to the ground she pulled out her secondary she screwed on her silencer. With her blade out she crouched, crept slowly behind Ghost.

König watched her every movement. He couldn’t stop staring at her legs and the way she moved but most of all his eyes lingered on her waist and ass.

Drinking in her figure he was biting his lip under his hood. The taste of blood was savored on his tongue.

“Samantha”

König whispered to himself. Watching her she turned around but her face was the face of his past obsession Samantha. His breathing hitched just looking at her beautiful face he stepped forward grabbing her face. Feeling her face.

Phantom shivered under his grasp he lifted her off the ground hugging her tightly. She heard him inhale her scent. She grabbed hold of his vest. She grabbed his mask. The feeling of her hands touching his mask made him wake up from his trance.

Looking at her surprised he dropped her immediately. She grunted and gasped when she hit the ground. Hissing at the pain that radiated from the fall she looked up at him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

König looked down not looking back at her Ghost kneeled down beside her helping her up to her feet. Ghost stood up quickly he walked over to König pulling him aside.

“König what the fuck was that?!”

“Do that again! I will personally have you removed off this TF”

“Phantom”

“I’m fine Lieutenant”

“Let’s move”

König shook his head shaking away the thoughts of his past obsession Samantha. The look in her eyes. It wasn’t fear nor disgust. Phantom eyes were empty. They showed no emotion. She stared at him with a stoic expression.

Catching her breath she held her rifle tightly. Following behind Ghost again she was more on guard around König. While walking she glanced behind her watching his every move.

The sounds of men talking on the radio was closer then they anticipated. Ghost stopped abruptly taking out his knife he gestured her to cover him.

König kneeled down beside Ghost holding his gun loaded. Waiting for his signal. He glanced over to phantom. Her small figure laying on the ground under the cover of the bushes.

Phantom quietly moved into the brush pulling her rifle out looking around to see where the radio chatter was coming from.

Breathing in slowly, holding her rifle breathing out, inhaling slowly holding it in, her finger on the trigger holding it. Waiting for her target to move forward.

“Permission to engage sir”

Whispering to Ghost.

“Negative let them pass we have to see what we’re up against.”

“Yes sir”

Watching the soldier pass ahead of them. They held their position. König scoffed silently under his hood looking at Phantom. His eyes wandered back to her every chance he got. Staring at her this was his moment to be alone with her.

“Hold this position. I’ll be back”

Ghost walked ahead. Making sure it was safe to move his team forward.

Holding her rifle she crawled back using her fore arms she moves backwards. Her ass stuck out most to him. The small branch from the bush had caught her vest strap. Trying to pull herself back it only made her irritated.

“Fuck, I’m caught on something”

König laughed softly watching her struggle on the ground with her face down and her ass up.

Taking advantage of this moment he tilted his head slightly watching her struggle.

“You gonna help or just stare at my ass.”

König smiled under his hood. Watching her struggle was amusing to him. She was so small and helpless under his gaze. This was all too amusing to him.

“My schatz ask me nicely”

“No, just fucking help me.”

“Ask me nicely”

“Fuck you, fine”

“König please help me”

Sighing with defeat she shifted her face against the ground looking to him. He tilted his head watching her struggle.

Taking a step towards her he kneeled down beside her leaning down to her he laid his hand on her lower back gliding down her back towards her head. He felt where her gear was caught. Breaking the branch he pulled her out of the bushes. She looked up to him placing her hands on his chest.

Looking at his hood his painted eyes. Her breathing slowed and hitched as he trace her jawline with his gloved hands. Moving the stray hairs out of her face.

“Persephone”

“Don’t call me that. We’re not friends. And I don’t trust you.”

Standing up she looked back to him looking away picking up her gun she walked away from him.

König watched her turn away from him. The blood in his veins began to flow to another part of him that needed immediate attention. Shifting his pants he looked down.

Looking at her back side his lust for her only grew stronger.

“Aksel do you copy, this is Phantom.”

“I read you loud and clear”

“We are in the clear advance to our position. Sending you our coordinates now.”

Holding her rifle close she noticed her ghost charm was missing. Grasping the tip of her rifle she sighed heavily.

“Fuck!”

Where the charm sat she held it tightly.

“Whose Samantha?”

“What?”

“You called me that when you had your little episode earlier.”

“No one”

Looking back to him. Watching his cold stoic demeanor change to him avoiding her gaze. She noticed his uneasiness to the question.

“I’ve lost someone too. His name was Angus.”

“I know that feeling of losing someone close to you.”

“I understand if it’s too much to talk about.”

“Is that where you got that scar on your cheek.”

“That’s a different story.”

Looking down she sniffled at the memory of her scar on her face.

Looking back to him she met his gaze. Biting her lower lip she was about to speak but the sounds of branches breaking near them alerted them.

Crouching she duck down behind the bushes next to König.

Holding her radio she whispered to Ghost. Watching the group of soldiers patrol the area they we’re currently occupying.

“Ghost we have a problem”

“They know we’re here we need to get what we need and get out quickly.”

“Fucking Hell”

König grabbed her shoulder pulling her against him. He shield her from the flashlights. Holding her small body in his arms was an overwhelming feeling of comfort.

She had no choice but to remain still in his grasp. The feeling of his heat from his body was so warm and comforting in a way that was completely opposite from Krueger.

“Don’t move”

“They are moving forward they know we’re here.”

“Ghost do you copy.”

“They know we are here we have to move now. Before they seal off the base.”

Releasing her from his grasp she released the breathe she didn’t know she was holding in. Looking at him with a scowl she shook her head. Her radio came to life with Aksel voice.

“Fall back Phantom, that’s an order”

“Aksel”

“We’ve been tracking this data for months we can’t just abandon this mission.”

“Fall back Phantom Now! That is an order!”

“Yes sir”

Picking up her rifle she placed it in her back pulling out her secondary she made her way back to the rendezvous point.

Something about this mission was off to her she couldn’t pin point exactly why she had an uneasy feeling.

But the feeling of comfort of being held by König was a feeling she hasn’t felt since Angus died.

The sounds of twigs breaking beside her caused her to stop. Looking up she was spotted by one of the guards. Before he could yell, she grabbed him covering his mouth she stabbed him repeatedly.

König watched in awe of her ability to protect herself. The way she looked covered in blood and dirt was all he needed. The way she looked up to the sky covered in blood was so hypnotic.

The rising sun illuminated the forest.

The sound of an alarm going off. She looked down at the deceased soldier she snorted and rubbed her nose.

“Show time!”

Hours Later

Several hours later, the sounds of gunfire, men yelling in pain. (Y/N) took cover behind the trees. The sounds of bullets cutting through the air. She looked around her searching for Konig but he was no where in sight.

"Konig do you copy, Ghost anyone."

Fuck!"

She ran through the forest the sounds of men yelling and screaming in pain around her. This mission was a failure. All hell had broken loose.

Konig fought hard looking for her in the distance hoping she was safe and hidden. He had lost track of her when they were ambushed hours ago. Ghost was in his sights fighting like hell.

There were too many. Reinforcements had showed up a few minutes ago. Konig ripped through the soldiers with sheer anger. Searching for her in the distance, on the ground among the bodies that littered the forest floor.

"Phantom!"

She stopped running when she heard him call her name.

"Konig!'

She ran to where his voice was calling from. While running she was shot in her side feeling the bullet rip through her flesh she ignored the pain. Her adrenaline was already coursing through her body.

Lungs burning in her chest her legs tired from all the running.

Konig heard her calling out to him. Peeking his head out he saw her running in the distance. The snipers hidden in the trees and bushes all started firing at him.

Running at full speed she slide against one of the dead trees that laid on the ground. Loading her rifle she aimed towards the trees and bushes.

One by one they dropped like flies. Taking her time eliminating one by one she slowed her breathing focusing on the targets ahead of her.

Holding her side she was gasping for air. Her breathing became a wheeze. Sucking in the cold air she moved slowly.

Looking down at her radio she pushed the button.

"Konig, Ghost if any of you guys can hear me.....I've been hit in my side. Im bleeding like a damn faucet."

"I'm good. Just tired is all."

She smiled and laughed softly.

Holding her rifle she struggle to pull herself up to her feet. Pulling her small medic pouch she pulled out gauzes. Stuffing her wound to stop the bleeding. Biting back her whimpers she let out a shriek.

Her shriek sounded inhuman.

This shriek echoed in the forest. As the snow fall started to fall harder so did the breeze turn into a harsh strong gust of wind that swept the forest.

Krueger jumped to his feet running in the direction of where he heard her scream.

Phantom stood up to her feet holding the tree she reached into her chest pocket pulling out an adrenaline shot.

Jabbing her leg she shivered with the rush. Reloading her gun she cracked her neck. Walking towards the sounds of men yelling.

Walking passed Konig he noticed her walking towards the soldiers.

Blood covered her side and her pants and boots.

She kneeled down holding her rifle calming her breathing she focused on all her shots. The way the snow fell around her made her look mesmerizing.

Konig ran out from the tree line charging after the soldiers that were retreating.

Ripping through the soldiers with his blades he could help but laugh at the few soldiers that screamed and begged for their pathetic lives. The feeling of their bones breaking beneath his grasp was pure euphoria. The feeling of being in control was like an addicting feeling.

As the snow fell he watched her rise to her feet.

This goddess that stood before him.

She belonged to him, no matter what.

If she didn't want him like he wanted her, he would have to show her his love and devotion to her.

She turned around looking for Krueger she saw him in the distance. Walking towards him she called out to him.

But the sound of a Snipers rifle gunshot rung through her ears.

Watching Krueger look down holding his stomach he fell to his knees.

"NO!!!!!"

"KRUEGER!!!!!"

She started to scream running to him she tripped in the snow. The fresh white snow under her feet turned crimson red. Holding her side she pushed the bloody gauzes back into her side. Crawling to her knees she struggled to stand up.

"KRUEGER!!!!"

König watched in horror as Krueger fell to his knees. Watching him land on the ground without moving he saw phantom running to his aid. Running to her he grabbed her. Bear hugging her from behind she fought against him.

"KRUEGER!!!!!! GET OFF ME KONIG!!!!

She elbowed him as he held her back. Kicking and screaming she fought hard. Trying to squirm out of his strong grasp she started to bite his hands and arms. Her bite marks littered all over his hands and wrist.

Kicking his legs and knees she screamed and cried for Krueger.

A large black and grey Humvee showed up some men jumped out picking up Krueger they threw him in the back. taking off with him.

"KRUEGER!!!!!!!!!!!"

"DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE BITTE!!!!"

As the truck was leaving so did the left over soldiers in the forest. They too had retreated.

Throwing her head back against Konigs nose, the pain of his nose cracking caused him to let her go.

She crawled to her feet running after the truck. Pulling out her secondary she loaded her last clip. Shooting every last bullet she had at the tires or anyone. Gasping for her air her lungs burned so much. The cold air filled her lungs.

The pain in her knees and shins all ached.

Hands frozen.

Her leg covered in cold blood from her wound.

Holding her knees bending over her mind was hazy.

Gasping for her air, she fell to her knees crying for Krueger.

Meanwhile

Running through the forest. The more snow fell it had made it had made it harder to navigate through the thick woods. Stifled coughs muffled in their scarves Aksel tried his radio again.

Only met with silence and static. He led his team through the forest with caution. It had became quiet very quiet.

Moving silently and quickly, Aksel made his way to the others with Soap and Gaz

Price walked silently but cautiously through the forest and snow fall cautiously. The sounds of grunting and leaves rustling caught his attention. He turned the corner quickly but no enemy but to be met with Ghost.

Harnessing his weapon he kneeled down beside Ghost. Checking his wound he patched him up. Helping him to his feet they heard the snow crunching nearby by them.

Ghost held his rifle ready. Price held his weapon ready. Peeking his head out he sighed with relief. Watching Aksel he sighed with relief as well. Soap rushed over to Price nodding to him he was relieved to see Ghost still in one piece. Gaz nodded to Price walking over to Ghost he patted his back. Helping Soap they lifted Ghost to his feet.

"Ghost? Where's Phantom, Konig and Krueger?"

"Konig ran after her a few mins ago. Something must've happened. I heard her screaming for Krueger."

"It got quiet after they left that way."

Ghost pointed in the Northeast direction. Looking at the snow Aksel followed the boot prints where he saw Konig sitting on the ground holding his face.

Aksel rushed over to Konig. Seeing him sitting on the ground he pulled out his medical pact.

"Brother you hit."

Kneeling down beside him he examined him.

"No I'm fine. That spitfire of a woman broke my nose though."

Holding his nose he looked at Aksel with a shit eating grin.

Aksel shook his head. Patching up his nose he looked around for Krueger and Phantom.

This literal goddess had broken his nose.

No one had ever broke his nose.

This spitfire of a goddess had been the first to break his nose.

"God, I Love This Woman."

He whispered under his breathe.

Standing up he wiped his nose. Looking at his gloved hands he noticed her delicate teeth ripped through his gloves.

The sight of her biting his hands and arms made his hunger for her grow ten fold.

Aksel walked over to where Phantom sat on the ground looking at her lap. Blood seeping out of her wound she bit back her sobs.

"They took him. They stole him away right in front of me."

"Aksel he's gone."

"Gone"

"Just like that"

"It's my fault. I never fucking miss a shot. How could I have been so clumsy on my shots."

Looking up to Aksel she cried more, covering her face with her bloody gloves. Her sobs were muffled.

Aksel kneeled beside her patting her back she hugged him immediately.

"I'm gonna kill that fucking asshole."

She tried to stand up but failed miserably. The wound in her side throbbed so much she collapsed.

Groaning in pain she tried to crawl but Kong stood in front of her.

Smirking down to her. He reached out to her picking her up he held her close. Inhaling her scent this sent shivers down his spine. Carrying her bride style she in a way found comfort in his grasp. But her anger towards him remained.

"They have Krueger."

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

To Ash and Dust

A Rovickie fanfiction

18+ MINORS DNI for some smut

I'm waking up to ash and dust. I wipe my brow, and I sweat my rust. I'm breathing in the chemicals. . .

- Radioactive, Imagine Dragons

Vickie had gotten a little over excited when she heard that Robin was here at the hospital, and it wasn't because she was hurt. Hawkins had been turned upside down, torn open by an earthquake that hadn't actually been an earthquake. It was still hard to wrap her head around that it had been a monster who had come from another dimension to make everyone his puppet. A monster that had lived here before. . .Vickie hadn't seen much of Robin after she explained things and the creatures that had spilled out with Vecna. They had both been quite busy; with Robin trying to save the world, and Vickie volunteering at the hospital with her father. It was crazy because Robin had been at the hospital nearly as much as Vickie, but their paths had barely crossed. . . Until now. Vickie skidded into the waiting room to find Robin locked in an intimate embrace with Steve. Vickie blinked rapidly, her heart racing as Robin pulled back and kissed Steve’s cheek. Vickie felt like her heart had dropped out of her chest, and she couldn't stop the gasp from coming out. Steve and Robin pulled away, Steve smirking at the sight of her.

"Oh, hey Vickie," Steve said.

"Vickie!" Robin exclaimed. "I was just saying to Steve how unfair it is that even though we're both here we barely get to see each other."

"Oh! Really?" She squeaked, her voice higher than normal.

"Yeah, are you okay?" Robin asked.

"Are you dating Steve?" Vickie blurted out, and Steve's smirk widened.

"What?! No! Absolutely not. We're strictly platonic. . .with a capital p!" Robin exclaimed.

"Thank God!" Vickie exclaimed, and Robin looked her questioningly, causing Vickie to blurt out, "I don't like Steve!"

"Pardon?" Robin asked, raising her eyebrows.

"I mean, I do like Steve. I mean, I don't know him because I haven't really spoken to him at all but he seems like a nice guy and obviously he's handsome but I don't want to like him like that, you know?"

"You like Steve, but you're not in like with him," Robin smirked.

"Exactly," Vickie sighed with relief and paused before deciding to just rip off the band aid. "I'm really glad you're not dating him because I like you."

"Really?!" Robin squeaked.

"Yeah," Vickie laughed. "I wasn't sure if you liked me back or not. I mean I still wasn't sure how I felt about you either or what I liked but I know that I liked, well, boobies and I knew that you worked at Family Video so what better way to drop a hint to you that I like boobs then with my favorite movie. I hope on some level that you got the message but maybe I was too subtle."

"Oh, I got the message. Robin didn't, though. . .I told you. . .boobies," Steve said.

"It was too good to be true," Robin said to Vickie. "But yeah. . .I like you too. . .and Steve, what did I say about you saying boobies?"

Vickie squealed and threw her arms around Robin's middle, burrowing her head into her chest. Robin laughed, hugging her back.

"Boobies," Vickie giggled and Steve laughed.

"So, she's allowed to say it?" Steve asked.

"She's cuter than you are, Steven," Robin replied as Vickie pulled back slightly, her arm still wrapped around Robin's waist.

"So, you think I'm handsome, huh?" Steve asked Vickie.

"I have eyes, don't I?" Vickie asked.

"I'm so confused, I thought you liked boobies," Steve said.

"Like my favorite Starman, David Bowie, I'm bisexual," Vickie said with a giggle. "I like men and women."

"You can do that?" Robin and Steve asked with identical looks of confusion.

"I can't believe I ever thought you two were together," she laughed. "There's so much that you guys don't know. Hell, I still don't know. I mean, I knew that Bowie was bisexual longer than I knew about myself. I always struggled between liking women and liking men. Even knowing about Bowie, I still thought for myself that I had to choose between the two. I thought I could be straight or that I was a lesbian. That's why I went back with Dan briefly because I just needed to know which is what I needed to finally close the book on that relationship. I still can't believe he was bitching about his ruined spring break when people died. It was kind of seeing you run away in the War Zone. . .which by the way, what person takes their girlfriend on a date to the War Zone?! Anyway, it took seeing you to finally accept myself, and I didn't want to run away anymore."

"Wow," Steve said and then frowned. "You know, I think I knew about Bowie too, I just forgot. There were moments where I thought I was gay, too, you know but then I thought that everyone questions their sexuality a little bit or every straight person must like the same sex at least a little bit."

"No, they do not," Vickie said.

"You've been questioning your sexuality?" Robin asked Steve.

"Yeah," Steve said. "I guess I'm not as straight as I thought I was. Cool."

"You just realized that you're not straight and that's all you can say?" Robin asked.

"We're in the middle of the end of the world, Robin," he said. "Priorities."

"So, what? You'll freak out later?" she asked.

"Yeah," Steve said. "You're the first person that I'll call when it happens."

"I better be," she said with a soft grin and then said with deep affection. "Dingus."

"I love your friendship," Vickie sighed and Robin kissed her forehead.

"You might want to give us a minute, Steven," Robin sighed. "I think I'm going to eat her face a little bit."

Vickie giggled.

"There's someone I need to talk to, anyway," Steve said and walked out of the waiting room.

Robin turned to Vickie and cupped her face. She rubbed her thumb across Vickie's cheekbone, staring into her eyes. Robin's eyes were a prettier shade of blue than hers, Vickie noticed.

"I can't believe this is happening," Robin whispered.

"Believe it, babe," Vickie whispered.

Vickie closed the distance between them, pressing her lips gently against Robin's. They both sighed as their lips met, moving softly against each other. Vickie never wanted to stop kissing her, they fit perfectly together like they were always supposed to meet. This felt so right. Vickie and Robin moaned into their mouths, gasping as they continued kissing. . .slowly moving the pace along. Vickie grew eager though and she deepened the kiss, wrapping her arms around Robin's neck. She let Robin's arms fall to her waist, supporting Vickie as she stood on her tiptoes slightly. Vickie touched her tongue to the bottom of Robin's lip and she opened her mouth to let Vickie in. She had just slid her tongue in when she felt her shirt raise up and she felt Robin's skin touching hers slightly. It sent a jolt down her back and Vickie remembered where they were. She pulled back.

"Thank you," Robin gasped and Vickie laughed.

"You're welcome. . .so polite of you," Vickie teased.

"Shut up," Robin blushed.

"Make me," Vickie said and she did.

Their little moment didn't last long, and once they got separated again, it was a while before they saw each other. It left Vickie yearning for her and for her lips. It also left her in a constant state of worry about what might happen to Robin. She didn't want to leave her father, but every instinct she had was telling her to make sure that Robin was safe.

"I'm not going to stop you if you want to go look for Robin," her father's voice broke through her thoughts. "As much as I hate the idea of you being out there, I don't want you to resent me for trying to prevent you from doing the right thing. Besides, you're not really here."

"Dad," Vickie protested. "I'm here. I'm helping."

"You're helping, but you're a million miles away," Matthew Fisher sighed. "Go save your girl."

"You know?" Vickie asked.

"I wanted you to come to me when you were ready, but we're kind of at the end of the world here," Matthew said. "And I need you to know how proud of you I am."

"I'm proud of you too, dad," Vickie said softly.

They hugged tightly, and Vickie ran off before she could change her mind. She had stopped by Max Mayfield's room first and checked on the comatose girl that Robin had frequently visited. The only other person that was there was Lucas Sinclair. He didn't know where Robin was, so Vickie headed for the parking lot. Matthew had his own gun on him, and she knew there was a gun in the trunk of their car. There was also a pistol in the glove compartment. After double checking and verifying that they were all still there, Vickie pulled out of the parking lot. She didn't have a destination in mind, but she drove around the known parts of town: the destroyed town hall, Melvald's, the high school, and she even drove towards Family Video. The sky was red now with thunder flashing harshly above her. Hell was here on Earth. Vickie swallowed.

It was when she was getting close to the old radio station that she found Steve’s now busted car on the side of the road. He was out and trying to fix it, looking over his shoulder every so often. There were giant claw marks on the side of his vehicle. It must have been a demogorgon. She had yet to run into one. Thankfully. She grabbed the pistol and stepped out of the vehicle. That's when a bat like creature dove for Steve. Vickie quickly raised her gun, firing rapidly. She managed to get quite a few hits in, causing it to fly off screeching. Steve screamed and dropped to the ground. He peaked over the hood with wide eyes.

"Hey, handsome, need a ride?" Vickie asked.

Steve steadied himself and stood up, grabbing a bat with nails that had been leaning against the car. He grabbed his backpack and moved closer to her.

"Yeah, gorgeous, anytime," Steve said. "And thanks."

Vickie slid into the car with Steve, putting the gun back. She drove off to the radio station like he asked her to.

"You think I'm gorgeous?" Vickie asked, trying to ease the tension.

"I have eyes, don't I?" Steve replied, and she laughed. "So, what are you doing out and about?"

"I was worried about Robin," she admitted.

"You really like her, huh?" Steve asked.

"So much. . .it's ridiculous how much I like her," Vickie said.

"Well, your taste in women. . .very questionable," Steve said, teasing.

"Are you judging me for liking your best friend?" Vickie asked.

"Oh, yeah," he said with a grin.

"You're such an asshole," she laughed. "Now, you have to tell me who you're crushing on so I can judge you."

It had fallen silent for a moment, and Vickie wondered if she had crossed a line.

"Like, it's not weird to like both at the same time just because we like both, right?" Steve asked.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"Like, for example, say you liked Robin, but you also liked me, and you wanted to be with both of us. . ." Steve trailed off.

"I'm sorry, Steve, I really meant it when I said I don't like you like that," she said softly.

"No! No! This is just an example," Steve said.

"Oh! So. . .you're saying you have a crush on both a woman and a man. Do you want to be with both of them?" She asked.

"So much now," Steve said.

"Well, then it isn't weird," she said. "Who is it?"

"Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers," he said, blushing.

"Uh, your ex-girlfriend and her boyfriend?" Vickie asked. "Okay, I'm judging you a little bit."

"Asshole," he laughed.

"It's not weird at all, Steve. Whatever your feelings are. . .they're important to you, and it's okay to feel that way. If anyone makes you feel like it's not, then they're the assholes. You got to live your own life. No one else can do it for you," Vickie said.

"That's true," Steve said.

They fell into a comfortable silence, and then they pulled into the parking lot of WSQK. Of course, Vickie's luck with gravity had to run out at the point. She fell and scraped her hands as she got out of the car. Vickie cursed as Steve rushed to the other side to help her up. He quickly started to wrap her hands up with a couple of black bandanas he pulled out of his brown leather jacket pocket.

"Has anyone ever told you look like Tom Cruise in that jacket?" Vickie blurted out as he bound her hands.

"Like from Top Gun?" Steve asked.

"Have you seen it yet?" Vickie asked.

"No, been a bit busy," Steve said. "Goddamn apocalypse."

"Guess you're a fan of Tom Cruise?" Vickie asked.

"Oh, yeah, loved him in Risky Business," Steve said.

"Me too!" Vickie exclaimed.

"God, can we be best friends now?" Steve asked, and he paused. "If my dad could see me now. . .well, he wouldn't be very proud of me. He always said that men and women can't be friends. I'm glad I have another friend to prove him wrong."

"Me too!" Vickie beamed. "Ooh, maybe after this, we can have a Tom Cruise marathon!"

"Oh, yeah, definitely," Steve grinned. "Call it a girls' night. We can order pizza and do each other's hair."

"You'll let me do your hair?" Vickie asked with a gasp. "That feels very. . .sacred."

Just as Steve laughed, a very loud growl startled the both of them. A demogorgon had emerged from the woods, sniffing the air.

"Shit. It smelled your blood," Steve whispered. "Get inside. Hurry."

Vickie and Steve moved slowly to the door, but the demogorgon heard them. It jumped in front of the door, blocking their way inside. Steve pulled out his bat and hit it before rolling away to make it chase after him. The demogorgon roared and swiped at him. Steve swiftly dodged it. Vickie grabbed her pistol from the car, reloaded, and began firing at the monster. It roared again and turned on her, but Steve distracted it by hitting it with the bat. Vickie gasped, trying to remember what they told her about the monster. Shit. Right, they hate fire. Vickie dove into the car again just as the demogorgon had pinned Steve to the ground. She grabbed the hairspray her dad kept in the car and a lighter before climbing on top of the car.

"Hey asshole!" Vickie screamed and fired her pistol at it.

The demogorgon ran to her, skidding in front of the car. It stood to full height, opening its face like a flower. Vickie screamed. With her makeshift flamethrower, she sprayed fire right into the monster's mouth. It whimpered and stumbled back, screeching. Suddenly, it tilted its head as though it was picking up a signal and ran off, still screeching in pain. Steve stared at her in shock and walked over to the car.

"Holy shit, that's twice now that you saved my life," Steve said and helped her down, right into his arms. "Thanks, gorgeous."

"Anytime, handsome," Vickie grinned as they hugged.

They hadn't even noticed that Joyce and Hopper had pulled up with El, Nancy, and Jonathan.

"Jesus, kid, you okay?" Hopper asked.

"Yeah, fine," Steve said as he pulled away from the hug.

"Who's she?" Nancy and Jonathan asked.

To Vickie's amusement, they had said it with such animosity that Hopper and Joyce looked at them in surprise. El and Steve just looked confused.

"I'm Vickie Fisher," she said. "My dad's a doctor at the hospital. I was volunteering there, but I decided to help Steve and Robin."

Suddenly, a bright yellow pizza van was pulling up, the doors opening with a bang. Robin spilled out with Will, Mike, Erica, and Argyle.

"Oh my God, we saw a flaming, smoking pissed off demogorgon run by us and we thought for sure something bad happened!" Robin exclaimed. "Oh my God! Vickie! You're hurt!"

She rushed towards Vickie and took her hands.

"Yeah, she saved my life twice," Steve said.

Robin gasped and, without thinking, bent down to kiss her deeply. She pulled back quickly before Vickie could return the kiss.

"Oh! I just kissed you in front of everyone," Robin said. "I'm sorryI'msorryI'msorry!"

"Babe, it's alright. Besides, if they can handle all of this but can't handle two girls kissing, then we need to get them to the hospital to get their heads checked," Vickie said.

"That's a fair point," Robin laughed.

"Alright, let's get inside," Hopper said softly.

Everyone spilled into the station, Vickie talking rapidly about the bat and the demogorgon, Robin's wrapped tightly around her waist.

"Oh, me and Steve are best friends now," Vickie beamed. "And after this, we're going to have a girls' night and watch a Tom Cruise movie marathon."

"Oh god," Jonathan groaned. "Nancy won't stop pouting about missing the Top Gun movie."

"Not pouting. . .I'm just disappointed," Nancy shrugged.

Jonathan and Nancy walked ahead of them, discussing something rather privately as they whispered to themselves. Every so often, they'd look back at Steve. Vickie cleared her throat, smiling.

"Well, no one will have to be worried about me hanging out with Steve," Vickie said loudly. "Strictly platonic."

"With a capital p?" Robin asked excitedly.

"Oh, yeah," Vickie laughed.

"Well, I wasn't worried," Robin said.

Meanwhile, Joyce had walked over to Jonathan and Nancy to scold them slightly for being rude. Vickie looked back at Steve in amusement.

"What?" He asked.

"You're telling me you didn't notice the way Jonathan and Nancy spoke to me outside?" Vickie asked.

"Well, I thought it was a little harsh the way they spoke to you," Steve said with a frown. "Was there something wrong?"

"Oh, Steve," Vickie said affectionately.

"Okay, I'm missing something," Robin said.

"It's up to Steve to tell you what he told me in the car," she said.

"Uh? Oh. . .oh! Do you think?" Steve asked excitedly.

"Definitely," Vickie replied.

"Okay, seriously, if you two being friends means that I'm going to be left out of things. . .," Robin started to say.

"Okay! Okay! It's not just Nancy I see in the RV," Steve said softly. "It's Jonathan, too."

"Oh, damn, I did not see that coming," Robin said. "Which I really should have. . .oh my god! They were jealous!"

"Yeah," Vickie said.

Vickie wasn't sure what talk they were having, but she could guess when Joyce hugged Jonathan and Nancy before walking away. Steve caught their eye, beaming. He wiggled his fingers and winked at them. Nancy and Jonathan both blushed. Steve quickly fixed his hair and then checked his breath.

"Okay, I'm going in," Steve said with a goofy smile.

He was so focused on Nancy and Jonathan that he almost didn't avoid getting hit by a door. He apologized to the inanimate object before moving along.

"Oh my God. He's such a dork. Was he actually ever popular, or was it just a shared delusion on our part?" Vickie asked.

"Damn. You might be onto something, babe," Robin snorted with laughter. "Should we make score cards?"

"Robin! No!" She giggled. "Hush!"

They watched as Steve charmed them both, pulling imaginary lint off their clothes as he did so. He tucked a strand of hair behind Nancy's ear and pulled an eyelash off Jonathan's cheek, letting him make a wish off his finger. He brushed hair from Jonathan's forehead, saying something that caused him to blush deeply and Nancy to giggle.

"Okay, I really wish I knew what they were saying," Robin said.

Suddenly, Hopper ushered everyone into the room for a discussion. Vickie noted how Steve’s hands hovered over their lower backs, gently encouraging them forward. Neither Jonathan nor Nancy protested at his delicate touch. Once they settled down in the other room, Steve wedged between his potential partners and Vickie practically sitting on Robin's lap. Hopper stood in front of them, going over the plan. Vickie was amazed that she could concentrate on what he was saying with Robin sitting next to her and holding her, but she managed it. She's not sure how Nancy and Jonathan were doing. Every so often, they'd look at Steve as if they were seeing him for the first time. Sometimes, Jonathan would space out and stare blankly ahead, his cheeks red. Vickie was pretty sure that Steve’s hand was still on his lower back and caressing it. Vickie was amazed that they could find happiness at the end of the world.

"Vickie," Hopper's voice spoke.

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure you want to get involved in all of this?" Hopper asked.

"This whole town is kind of involved now, aren't they?" Vickie asked.

"Yeah, but you can still get out with your dad," he said.

"My dad isn't going to leave his patients, and I can't leave without trying to help the town I grew up in. Besides, Vecna, or Henry Creel, whatever his name is, he killed my cousin," Vickie said. "Chrissy."

"What? I didn't know that Chrissy was your cousin," Robin said.

"Yeah, I didn't know until today. I knew my dad had a twin sister, but they had a falling out, and she broke my father's heart. He didn't like to talk about it much. He tried to get involved later when he discovered that his sister was starving her own daughter, and Laura threatened to call the cops to have them take me away. There wasn't much that he could do because he didn't have any proof. So, yeah."

"I'm so sorry," Joyce said softly.

"Well, I couldn't do anything for my cousin then, but I could do something for her now," Vickie said. "And I can do it for my dad, too."

"Okay, then," Hopper said. "Let's get to work."

"You're so amazing," Robin said fondly.

"I know," Vickie said, and Robin laughed. "So are you."

She didn't understand how she got separated from Robin again. One minute, they're escaping, yet again, from the soldiers that were after El and the next thing they knew, they were getting shoved into separate vehicles. Now, Vickie was in the back of Argyle's pizza van, struggling to hold onto something.

"Hold onto your butts, brocachos!" Argyle screamed.

"I like him," Vickie said as she stumbled into Jonathan's arms again. "He's a good egg."

"A little cracked though," Jonathan muttered with a smile.

"Aren't we all?" Vickie asked, and Jonathan laughed.

Argyle made a sudden hard turn, and Jonathan held onto Vickie tighter, grabbing onto the closet thing. . . it happened to be her breast.

"Oh, my God, I'm so sorry!" Jonathan yelled as he let go, and Will laughed.

"I think Robin might be pissed that you got to second base before she did," Will said. "And Argyle said to hold onto to our butts. You never listen, Jonathan."

Vickie laughed as Jonathan flipped Will off, and she leaned closer to whisper to Jonathan so Will couldn't hear.

"Well, I promise I won't tell Nancy and Steve," Vickie said.

"Were we that obvious?" Jonathan asked.

"Oh yeah," she said.

"Uh, Will already knows," he said.

"Oh, about Nancy and Steve?" Will asked. "Yeah, super obvious now once he told me."

"Is it official?" Vickie asked.

"Definitely," Jonathan said.

BOOM!

They all screamed as Argyle avoided being hit by a fucking bomb. They managed to successfully avoid it, but they were hit by the concussive force of the bomb, or something like it, that had been dropped on a demogorgon up ahead of them. Argyle couldn't stop the force from topping them over like a domino. Vickie had thrown herself on top of Will and Jonathan, just as Jonathan had been about to do the same. She clutched them both tightly, her ears ringing and her head pounding. The van had settled, and she waited for a moment before pulling herself off of the boys. Her head felt wet. Was it raining inside the van? Jonathan and Will were trying to talk to her, but they weren't making a sound. Oh, no, it's because she couldn't hear. Jonathan and Will dragged her out of the van, then helped Argyle. He was clutching his arm. The ringing in her ears cleared up a little, and she could hear them a little now.

"A little purple palm tree delight will fix this right up."

"Argyle, your arm is broken. You're going to the hospital."

It was a bad idea to shake her head, but she did it anyway, and she wanted to throw up. A few minutes later, a military vehicle showed up, followed by the blue van Joyce was driving. A soldier got out of the vehicle, Joyce hopping out of the van with Hopper following. Joyce and Hopper screamed at the soldier as they moved towards them. Was it him who gave the orders? Joyce immediately went to Jonathan and Will, while Hopper tried to speak to Vickie. She blinked when she saw a soldier holding a rocket launcher. Oh. She stared at the red sky above her, the lightning that continuesly flashed in the sky like it was never going to rain. It never did. Dust flared up from where the demogorgon had been blasted to smithereens. It swirled around around with the particles from the Upside Down. Is the kind of world they lived in now? Vickie realized she might be in shock. She heard the sound of the ambulance, as though it was from a distance as Hopper tried to talk to her. She watched as her father hopped out of the bus and then suddenly began shining a light in her eyes.

"Vickie?! Vickie, can you hear me?!"

She snapped back into focus as the ringing began to lessen. She finally realized her father was standing in front of her.

"Daddy?!" She cried.

Matthew pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly.

"Oh, I don't see any signs of a concussion, but you're still going to the hospital," Matthew said.

He moved to help Argyle onto the bus before moving to help his daughter do the same. With his arm wrapped around Vickie, he flipped off the soldiers as he got into the vehicle. Vickie couldn't help but giggle. Her father was a quiet, sweet man who never raised his voice to anyone, let alone flip someone off. She had hardly ever seen him so angry. It was startling. The last time he had been so angry was when her mother died. Matilda. If she had been here now, would she have been just as angry? Vickie had gotten her ability to ramble from her mother, and she knew she wouldn't have been afraid to go off on the soldiers. In a way, she was glad that her mother wasn't here to see her beloved town like this. Matilda always said there was beauty to be found under all the judgment and hatred. You just had to look for it. Vickie thought about her mother and how angry she would have been at how they treated Eddie. . .how they didn't look for any other suspects. . .she would have reigned Hellfire down on them. Her rage burning as bright as the hair on her head, the hair she passed onto Vickie. It all fell out in the end, Matilda clinging to whatever hair she had. . .fighting for every bit of life. The cancer had won, though.

"What are you thinking about, honey?" Matthew's voice cut in.

"Mom," she said, and she suddenly felt her mother's rage fuel her, refusing to let this fucker win.

When they finally finished checking her out at the hospital, Robin had come into her room in tears. There were still people in there, and all Vickie wanted to do was kiss her. Vickie grabbed Robin's hand and dragged her to an empty on call room. She locked the door and pressed Robin up against it. She kissed her desperately. Robin pulled back, cupping her face.

"Are you okay?" Robin asked.

"I'm okay. I need you," she whispered. "I just need to feel you."

Robin smiled and kissed her. Vickie smiled against her lips, her fingers quickly working to unbutton her shirt. She slid it off Robin's shoulders and let it fall to the floor. They quickly shed both of their clothing, pausing to marvel at each other with their eyes shining with want. Vickie pushed her gently onto a bed and climbed on top of her, kissing her. All she could feel was Robin, pressed up against her and moving eagerly. Vickie's hands slid down her body, gripping her hips as Robin threw a leg over her own. For a moment, all they did was kiss each other and explore their naked bodies, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. Vickie needed to taste her, and eventually, she found herself in between Robin's legs and caused Robin to arch her back as she called out Vickie's name as Vickie spoke between her legs. Then she was sliding in between Robin's legs with her own, and everything was exploding with pure ecstasy.

"Fuck me," Robin gasped as they collapsed on to the bed, sweating.

"I just did," Vickie teased. "You're ready to again? So soon?"

"Gah, no! You wore me out," Robin said.

She flopped around like a fish until she settled onto her stomach, pressing her cheek into the pillow. Robin let out a sigh of contentment. Vickie turned on her side, gazing at Robin in wonder. She was beautiful, inside and out. She loved the way she laughed and the way she played her trumpet. She loved the way she rambled, so much like Vickie but at the same time so completely different. She loved the way she was unashamedly herself and the way she dressed herself. Vickie loved her heart, how open it was, and at the same time so closed off. She loved her friendship with Steve and the way she looked after the kids. She loved the way she got distracted in everything she did, but when it was well and truly important, she was determined to try and focus. Overall, she just loved the way her mind worked and that the fact that she was so good with languages. . .all very attractive. She just loved her energy and the fact that she was such a romantic. . .the fact that she loved old romance movies was adorable to Vickie, even if it wasn't her cup of tea. Robin gazed at her, her eyelids clearly heavy, but she was trying so hard to stay awake so she could keep looking at Vickie. God, she loved her. Oh. . .she loved her! Should she say it? Was it too soon? Was it a cliche to say it after sex?

"I love you," Robin said, and Vickie giggled in delight.

"I love you, too," Vickie said.

She kissed Robin and laid down next to her, throwing an arm across her back. They closed their eyes and went to sleep.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Robin and Vickie woke up with a gasp. Someone was knocking and trying to get in. They hurried to get dressed and tried not to giggle as they did it. Robin and Vickie unlocked the door, running out as quickly as they could without being scolded by the doctor in the hallway. They found the others in the waiting room. Dustin, Mike, Will, and El had taken the opportunity to go visit Max. Nancy and Jonathan were giggling in the corner with Steve, their hands on the back of Steve's neck.

"Where were you guys and why did you switch clothes?" Hopper asked.

"Hopper," Joyce said, trying not to smile.

"Uh, Vickie needed to take a nap, and I thought someone should watch over her. That someone is me," Robin replied.

"And you had to swap clothes?" Hopper asked.

"Hopper, come on," Joyce giggled. "You're not this dense."

"We had sex," Vickie blurted out.

"Oh," Hopper said, his face turning red and his eyes squinting in embarrassment.

"How'd you get to be a cop, Hop?" Steve asked teasingly.

"Shut the hell up," Hopper growled, causing Nancy and Jonathan to laugh. "We don't have to keep talking about this."

"Oh, I don't know," Robin grinned. "It's pretty fucking hilarious."

They giggled and found their way over to the other couple in the room. Or was it throuple?

"You two look cute wearing each other's clothes," Steve said with a teasing grin.

"I would say that you three should get a room, but the on-call room is now taken," Robin said.

"You think they knew what we were doing in there?" Vickie asked.

"I doubt it," Robin said. "I drew boobies on my shoes for a long time and no one noticed. Besides, Hopper just proved that people with good investigative skills can be pretty clueless."

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" Hopper asked.

"Oh, never."

The final battle against Henry Creel was set in motion by the resurrection of Eddie Munson or so, Robin and Vickie had heard. They had spent quite a while looking over Max after that, but once again, they had gotten separated when Hopper needed all hands-on deck for the final battle. Once again, they had been shoved into different cars, but this time, it had been days since she last seen Robin, stuck at WSQK with Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve. The town had lost power with the lightning growing stronger, with Henry growing more powerful. The light from the red sky filtered in the room slightly, and they did have lamps that were used for camping to give them some light. Not only was she cut off from Robin but from her dad as well. Even though she was tired, bruised, and bloody, Vickie couldn't sit still.

"They're going to be okay," Nancy reassured Vickie.

"I hope so. I'm not going to be jealous that at least you get to be with your partners," Vickie said. "Oh, that's not very nice of me."

"Well, you're stressed. We all are," Nancy replied.

"But you guys can't be with your families either," Vickie sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Well, let's get your mind of something else," Nancy said. "Are you planning on taking Robin on a date after this?"

"Oh, definitely," Vickie sighed. "And it's not going to be the fucking War Zone."

"Wait, did Dan really take you there on a date?" Steve asked.

"Oh, yeah," Vickie rolled her eyes.

"I always thought he was an idiot," Steve said.

"Well, at least, I know what not to do," she replied, and they all laughed. "I was thinking about maybe a movie so that way no one can see us kiss or hold hands. . .maybe a picnic on. . .Mount Weathertop? Right, that's what the kids call it?"

"Yeah," Jonathan said. "That sounds nice."

"What about you guys?" Vickie asked with a grin. "What's a date between three people going to look like?"

"Well, I was thinking about maybe cooking them dinner, and there's this bookstore up in Indianapolis that's in a strip mall. There's also a great record store next to it, a comic bookstore, and there's a photography studio there that I thought Jonathan would love. Last time, Robin and I went up there. We were there for hours, and I thought that Nancy would love the bookstore, considering it's owned by a female journalist. I mean, when I saw it, I immediately thought of Nancy and Jonathan," Steve said fondly.

"Really, Steve?" Nancy asked, looking at him affectionately, her eyes wide.

"Yeah," Steve said.

"That's sounds great, babe," Jonathan said and they both kissed his cheek.

"It's perfect," Nancy said.

"It's also where me and Robin got our tattoos," Steve said.

"You have a tattoo?" Nancy asked.

"Well, not really," Steve said. "We did ours together and we both got scared of the needle so it's more of a dot."

"Oh! I was about to say I did not see a tattoo anywhere on Robin's body," Vickie said. "Now, that I'm thinking about it. . .there was an oddly shaped mole on her butt. . ."

"Yeah, it's on my butt, too," he muttered, and they all laughed.

Just as she was about to inquire further about their little trip, the whole ground began to shake. It was an earthquake on a much larger scale than the one that ripped its way through Hawkins a year earlier. They all dove for safety, holding onto each other tightly as they waited for it end. It went on for a long time, debris falling all around them, and they thought for sure that they were going to die. Finally, it ended after a few rounds of aftershocks. They stayed where they were until they knew for sure it was over. Nancy led the group outside.

"Holy shit," Steve gasped.

The red sky had started to fade, and the lightning had stopped. The particles had started to disappear as dead demobats started to rain from the sky.

"Did we win?" Vickie asked.

"Yeah, I think so," Steve grinned.

Vickie hollered as Steve picked her up and twirled her around. She giggled and hugged him back before demanding to be put down. Nancy and Jonathan had just pulled away from each other, having kissed each other in excitement. Steve drew Nancy into a kiss before doing the same with Jonathan. She watched them fondly for a moment and she looked surprised when Nancy walked over to her. She hugged Vickie and pulled back, grinning.

"Don't look so surprised, Fisher, you're officially one of us," Nancy said, and Vickie smiled at her.

"Shit. . .do you think that Max . . . ?" Steve started to say.

"Hospital," they all said.

They all piled up into Nancy's car and drove off towards the hospital. They were careful to avoid debris and vines on the road. The sky was mostly blue now, and they could see the sun again. When was the last time they had seen the sun? When they got to the hospital, El, Will, Joyce, and Hopper were already there. El and Will looked completely exhausted, but they were happy to see that Max was awake. Her father was there, checking the state of Max's eyes. She would never be able to see well again, but she was alive, and the most important part was that she could see Lucas. He had never left her side.

"Glad to see we have another redhead in our group," Max said.

"Yeah, this is Vickie. She's pretty badass," Nancy said with a smile. "She's saved our lives a bunch of times."

"She is Robin's girlfriend," El said.

"El!" Will exclaimed.

"Was I not supposed to say anything?" El asked.

"It's fine," Vickie chuckled. "It was going to come out eventually. We can't seem to keep our hands off each other."

"That's so great. You're lucky to have Robin," Max said. "I used to have a crush on her."

"What?!" Steve asked.

"Yeah. I thought I was obvious," Max said and shrugged. "I have Lucas, so you have nothing to worry about."

"You like men and women, too?" Vickie asked.

"Are you telling me that you're a bisexual and a redhead?" Max asked. "If you tell me that you like skateboarding, I'm done."

"No! But I always wanted to learn. I'm a bit of a klutz though," Vickie said.

"The minute I get out of here and finished with therapy, I'm teaching all of you how to skateboard. And you can't say no because I just came out of a coma," Max said and they all laughed.

"So, being bisexual means you like men and women?" Lucas asked Max.

"Yeah," Max replied.

"Oh, I didn't know that. That's cool. I always just assumed - no, it's stupid," Lucas said.

"I mean, it probably is," Max laughed. "Go on."

"I thought like all straight guys secretly thought other guys were hot like this unspoken agreement," Lucas said.

"Well, you're just like me, man," Steve said. "I thought the same thing."

"Really?" Lucas asked.

Lucas grinned and hugged Steve tightly. Steve pulled back, slapping Lucas on the back.

"So, just a headcount, and you don't have to say anything, but is anyone in this room straight?" Steve asked.

Everyone shook their heads except El who just looked confused.

"I don't know," El said.

"And that's okay," Steve said, and she smiled at him. "We're all still figuring things out."

"Mom?" Will asked.

"My first time was not with a man," Joyce said, shrugging.

"Hopper?" Jonathan asked.

"Your mother was there both times when I hooked up with a man," Hopper said, shrugging. "I just thought that's what people do."

"Oh my god!" Max asked with a grin. "Did you guys have an orgy?"

"Do not answer that," Will said.

"Well. . ." Joyce said.

"You're only young once," Hopper said.

"I said not to answer that," Will groaned.

"Not going to lie to the girl who just came out of a coma," Hopper said. "I learned my lesson."

Vickie laughed.

"You're all so amazing," she said, and Max laughed with her.

"What else did I miss? Did Jonathan and Steve duke it out over Nancy?" Max asked.

"No," Jonathan and Steve laughed.

"It made more sense that all three of us are together," Nancy laughed.

"You can do that?" El asked.

"Of course, you can," Nancy grinned.

El shared a shy smile with Max and Lucas. Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve also shared a knowing look.

"I guess we all won," Max said, smiling and then her face dropped. "Except for Chrissy, Fred, and Patrick."

"Shit, Goddamnit, we almost forgot," Hopper said. "They're alright. They're the ones who helped us kill Creel. Chrissy, Fred, and Patrick were never dead in the first place. Vickie, your cousin is alive. She's with your father being checked out down the hall."

Vickie took off almost immediately. She finally passed her father before skidding to a stop and turning around to hug him tightly.

"Chrissy?" She asked.

"Well, she's in there, but I wouldn't go - "

Vickie didn't bother to listen to the rest of what he had to say. She burst into the room, only to find Chrissy sucking face with Eddie Munson. They jumped apart pretty quickly.

"Sorry!" Vickie squeaked. "I'm Vickie!"

"I know, Uncle Matthew told me," Chrissy laughed.

"I just got excited when they told me you were alive. I swear I didn't know you were my cousin until after you had. . .well, um. . .died, so it sucked that I didn't get to know you," Vickie said.

"You can blame my mother for that one," Chrissy said. "She told me her brother was dead. I'm glad she was wrong."

Vickie was surprised when Chrissy pulled her into a hug, but she quickly hugged her back.

"Hey, you're both the same height!" Eddie exclaimed and Vickie pulled back with a laugh.

"That we both get from Granny Fisher," Vickie replied.

"And your red hair?" Eddie asked, flashing his dimples.

"Well, I get mine from my mother," Vickie said. "Chrissy gets hers from Granny."

"You guys are definitely related. You don't really look alike, but you have the same energy," Eddie said.

"Yeah, another thing we got from Granny," Vickie said. "We should go visit her after this!"

"Granny had a lot to give, didn't she?" Eddie laughed.

"Yeah. . .Eddie, I want you to know that I never once thought you could do any of those things. Me and my father, thought it was dumb the way they didn't try to look for any other suspects. Although, how could they find anyone else when the guy who did do it was from an alternate dimension? Although Jason made himself look pretty guilty. I mean, everyone knows you broke up with him before the game," Vickie said with a frown.

"You ramble on a bit, don't you, darling?" Eddie asked in amusement.

"Yeah, like a - "

" - runaway train," a familiar voice finished her sentence.

Vickie whirled around and gasped when she saw Robin standing in the doorway. She couldn't help it. She threw herself into Robin's arms, wrapping her legs around her waist, causing her to laugh with delight. Vickie didn't care. She crashed her lips to hers, crying. She pulled back, still allowing Robin to hold her.

"Hi," Vickie said.

"Hi," Robin grinned.

"I was scared you might be dead," Vickie whispered.

"Well, I'm not. I'm here," Robin said.

"I'm sorry, I got carried away," Vickie said.

She moved to slip out of Robin's arms, but Robin held on. She collapsed into a chair, holding Vickie in her lap. Vickie smiled, studying her face. For once, she had nothing to say. Suddenly, Eddie moved beside them, causing them to jump.

"Don't worry, I don't have a problem with it," Eddie said.

"With me and Robin?" Vickie asked.

"Well, that too. . .but no. I was talking about you rambling," Eddie replied. "If you were worried."

"I wasn't," she giggled.

"With you rambling away and me eager to stand on a soap box, I see us doing a great many things, Fisher," Eddie said delightfully.

"Stop propositioning my girlfriend, Munson, and go away," Robin said.

Robin pulled Vickie closer to her, her hand accidentally drifting against Vickie's ass. Suddenly, Vickie thought about Robin's and the tattoo that was there. She burst into a fit of giggles and she couldn't stop.

"Are you okay?" Chrissy asked in amusement.

Vickie was about to say something when Steve walked in, and she couldn't help but laugh harder.

"What?" Robin asked.

"I'm sorry but I know about your tattoo," Vickie giggled.

"Traitor!" Robin yelled at Steve.

"Sorry, I had to get her mind off our impending doom," Steve said.

"You, Robin Buckley, have a tattoo?" Eddie asked with a grin.

"Yeah, I'm full of surprises," she mumbled. "Steve has one, too."

"Well, whip it out, big boy, let's see it," Eddie said.

"It's on my ass, Munson," Steve replied. "And I wouldn't even call it a tattoo. It's a dot."

"Why would you get a tattoo of a dot on your ass?" he asked. "Don't you have, like, a million of natural ones?"

"Well, we didn't factor in our fear of needles because we didn't know we had one until it touched our skin," Robin said.

"Yeah, we figured it probably has something to do with getting drugged against our will by the Russians at Starcourt," Steve shrugged.

"Okay, well, now I feel bad for laughing," Vickie said.

"Don't be, baby," Robin said. "Your laughter is like music to my ears."

"Besides, it's hilarious," Steve grinned. "Anyway, Dustin wanted to see if you guys wanted to go the roof and look at the sunset."

"Hell, I'm up for it," Eddie said. "Could use some fresh air."

"Me too," Chrissy said and hugged Eddie.

They all moved out of the room and down the hallway. Eddie and Chrissy had gotten a bunch of stares from the nurses and the doctors.

"Yep, it's me. Eddie Munson, murderer, back from the dead and the girl he was accused of killing," Eddie said cheerfully. "We're dating now! Anyone want an autograph or a picture. . .heard they last longer."

"Eddie!" Chrissy laughed.

The party gathered up on the roof. Smoke, dust, and ash swirled in the air, so it wasn't exactly fresh. It was still alarming to see it back in the daytime after spending so long in the dark. The trees were dead from lack of proper air, sunlight, and water. Fires had erupted and been promptly put out, but some of them had been set loose to start the process of life over again. The town had a long way to go but as Vickie looked around at the group that had gathered together, she knew that they would all come together to help heal the town that they had all loved so dearly. Vickie wrapped her arms around Robin. She wished that it had happened some other way, that people didn't have to suffer, but she was glad to be a part of this group. . .this family, and she was also glad that they could find happiness amongst all this hellfire.

I'm waking up, and I feel it in my bones. Enough to make my system blow. Welcome to the new age, to the new age. . .

[luniellar]

Breathe Me (Garrick Tavis X OC/Reader) - Chapter 2 - The Empyrean Series Fanfiction

When Xaden Riorson and Garrick Tavis arrive at Samara, they are forced to prove themselves all over again. When Xaden heads off to see Violet at Basgiath since their dragons are mated, Garrick finds himself alone in this unfamiliar area trying to get his name established navigating fights and ambushes. He owed his life to the man.

One particular night when Xaden leaves for Basgiath, Garrick finds himself with a new company. One who starts turning his world upside down and giving him something, that isn't just the Xaden and rebellion, to fight for. ______________________________________

All rights to Rebecca Yarros for her original work and original characters. My scenes and characters are my own. ______________________________________

Contains: Iron Flame Spoilers Warnings: Language

Chapters: 1 | 2

Read on AO3 | Wattpad

Author Note: As I'm writing this (February 2024), Garrick's signet is not revealed in Iron Flame. For this story, I followed my theory about Garrick's signet which is Near Sight (opposite of Liam's Far Sight). Near sight can easily recognize emotion changes, whatever emotion someone displays Garrick will pick up. This also relates to his dragon (Chradh) who is able to locate certain objects and is sensitive to runes. Garrick uses this to quickly learn who is trustworthy and gain information about people's true intentions making him a strong asset and an exceptional fighter.

Chapter 2: The Feelings

< Garrick Tavis >

The sun from the morning was nowhere to be found and the clouds were looking seriously ominous today. Temperamental like this guy, I glanced over at Xaden and his expressionless face from the hard floor of the outdoor sparring field. Something was definitely on his mind. My first guess would be Violet related. 

I welcomed the breeze against my shirtless, overheating body as my mind wandered off to what Lei was up to. Her smile from the morning flashed across my mind and I exhaled. Maybe it was her hair? I knew that most female riders kept their hair short, braided, or tied up to keep it from getting caught, but Lei’s ponytail was long enough and always swaying from side to side, like it was tempting me to grab. Oh gods, I shouldn’t have thought that. 

From the side, Xaden threw a clean towel that landed directly on my face, dragging me out of my thoughts. Right, this was supposed to be a quick break before another set. “Thanks,” I muttered as I grabbed it and wiped the dripping sweat across my face. 

“Riorson!” A familiar voice called out, full of disgust with each syllable. Tightening my core, I peeled my upper body off the mat and saw that bitch from last night. Fuck, what was his name again? 

Lei’s sharp, venomous tone saying his name last night replayed in my mind. “Move along, Pratt.” 

Oh yeah, Pratt. 

I looked up to see Xaden turned towards him with a blank face across the field. He didn’t answer, he just stared. Then a second later, Xaden looked over at me and was that worry that just flashed across his face? Pressing his lips together, he looked towards Pratt’s direction again.

Did Xaden know Pratt? Maybe he was an old friend? I could see the gears turning in his head staring at the blonde boy. 

“Where the fuck were you last night?” Pratt shouted. 

I scoffed and shouted back at him. He didn’t even have the courage to walk closer to us. “Damn, Pratt. I don’t think you wanted an audience to witness your ass getting whooped.” 

“I would keep your thoughts to yourself if I were you,” Pratt said my name in the same disgust he did with Xaden’s. “Your days at Samara are getting shorter with each word.” What the fuck was his deal?

Before I could quip back, Pratt looked directly at me. “Oh and leave Lei alone. She isn’t into dirty traitors like you two.” Pratt walked off with his “friends” trailing behind him. Two of the guys behind him moved with uncomfort and I could immediately identify they were the same boys from last night. 

“Watch your back, Garrick. He plays dirty.” Xaden replied. From the tone of his voice I knew that it wasn’t a guess, it was a statement. 

“Good, I like it dirty anyways.” I muttered back, my body making a dense thud against the hard floor surface as I dropped in exhaustion. 

✦ ✦ ✦

Xaden and I managed to keep the score even until the very end. Maybe it was the years of training we did together and how we knew each other better than we knew ourselves? Every move I threw at the guy, he managed to block. Thanks to my signet I was able to see the way his eyes moved before a punch or a jab and countered each step. But, he was still able to get a good punch on my jaw right when my mind was starting to wander off. 

Chradh loved reminding me how I should be paying attention whenever Xaden broke through my concentration like that. 

“Lei! Can you help?” A voice called out on our way to the showers and my head immediately turned. I scanned the fields until I saw Lei running over to another rider with short blonde hair reaching down to pick up buckets off the floor. I made eye contact with the blonde rider’s green eyes. Her eyes widened and immediately tilted her head up at Lei, her eyes moving in my direction. She clearly knew me, but I didn’t know her. Shortly after Lei turned in my direction. 

Her shiny, dark as night ponytail tossed above her shoulders. The shorter strands of hair fell into place, framing around her round rosy cheeks. I couldn’t turn my eyes away from her as I stood there watching. The short haired rider said something to Lei and after a quick nod, Lei jogged over. 

“Hey! Do you have an outpost shift tonight?” She asked when she reached me. Her scent filled the space between us. I held my breath knowing that I could just drink her up. 

I nodded. “It’s mine this time around.” 

“Great,” she gave me a gentle smile. She opened her mouth to say something, but glanced behind her looking back at the green eyed rider who was struggling to carry two buckets in each hand. “Oh gosh, Iris! Wait!” Lei turned to me. “I’ll catch you later, okay?”

Before I could reply, she turned and jogged back. I felt a hand hit my bare back. 

“Do me a favor and remember to breathe,” Xaden sighed, walking ahead of me. 

✦ ✦ ✦

Fuck, this outpost was so small. The moment I showed up for the shift, Lei was already in here marinating every corner of this space with her delicious scent. Thank gods there was a breeze blowing tonight circulating the air around us. Her warm vanilla scent stirred around me. I’ll need to ask Xaden about an olfactory dampening rune next week. 

That’s going to be a fun conversation. Chradh said amusingly.   

The conversation started with us catching up on what we did during the day. I learned that Iris, the short haired blonde who I briefly saw earlier today, was her closest friend here. I told her about Xaden and the bond we shared for many years. You would have to be blind to not see our rebellion relics. So I told her what I could without bringing up Aretia or the impeding doom Xaden carried on his shoulders. Lei carefully watched my expressions, smiling and encouraging when appropriate, She always made she didn’t step outside her boundaries.

I asked about her signet and she told me that it was a form of distance wielding. She wasn’t sure if she could do long distance wielding because her power burns out when channeled for a long time. It surged quickly in powerful consecutive bursts. When mentors said she drew the short end of the stick, she learned to hone the power to her advantage. She could shorten distances so fast that it gives off the illusion that she was teleporting in short distance increments. They must have had their head stuck up in their ass not to see how lethal she could be.

For the most part, it sounded like she trained on her own. Last year was when she learned that she could travel more than just her surrounding areas only if she could paint in her mind where exactly she needed to go. I made a mental note to ask her if she wants to join us on a sparring session one day. She had so much potential in that small body of hers and I wanted to see more.

Near the end of our shift, I built up courage to ask her. “Um,” I started. “Can I ask you a personal question?” 

“What’s on your mind, Garrick?” She smiled, tilting her head to the side. 

“How does someone like you end up knowing a guy like Pratt anyways?” I asked cautiously. I watched her gentle smile drain from her face, like a sad memory was dragging her back down. Her blue irises trembled with hesitation as she held my gaze. 

“We were engaged,” she started, looking ahead at the mountains. “We met as a part of a political alliance. I don’t come from wealth or power, Garrick. I come from a small, insignificant island in the Emerald Sea.” She lowered her head.

Like Xaden and Cat. Power was never something I craved. Sure, I saw the allure of it. But when you watched public executions of hundreds, including your family, for challenging power, you learn survival is more important. You do everything you can do to survive. You survive to remember each name, each story, and each face as a big fuck you. Maybe I was like Lei, I just didn’t like bullies. 

One of the many reasons I chose you, Big One. Chradh echoed with pride in my mind. 

Lei let out a soft exhale. “When I was 10, my father realized that the island resources were finite and started inviting aristocrats from the Continent to create trade routes. Pratt’s family was the first to visit. Within days of them leaving, his family made us an offer for an arranged betrothal under the condition that I survive the Threshing when I turned 20.”

“Threshing?” My voice rose in anger and my hands curled into fists. “Lei, you could have died! Did your family know how dangerous that was?! Pratt gave you a fucking death sentence!” I broke my composure. Why was I so angry? 

She laughed a short, gentle laughter turning back to me. “Honestly, no. No one knew about the Threshing where I was from. Riders and dragons were stories that I only heard from elders in the island when I was growing up. Myths and legends with heroes, not a girl from an island somewhere.” She paused, muscles around her eyes tenses and her eyes were focused like she was calling for Cosheirm in her mind. 

I watched as she found her peace again. Cosherirm, the word for harmony. Lei found her harmony through Cosheirm. Her pale skin against the stark contrast of her dark as night hair. She was beautiful. 

“But Garrick, if I was given the decision again knowing what I know, I will always take the path to Cosheirm. Even if I wasn’t guaranteed that Cosheirm would choose me again.” Her determination was so strong that I could see an aura of confidence cloaked her body like a glowing shield. She was glowing.

“Lei,” I started and she got up from her wooden seat. 

There were sounds of footsteps coming from the outside. “It looks like the next patrols will be coming soon. Come on, I’ll walk you back.”

✦ ✦ ✦

"You have to admit. If this walking to my bedroom becomes a regular occurrence, people are going to start talking." I said as we headed toward my barrack for a second night in a row.

"You need to check that masculinity, Garrick. I can help if you need more practice getting down on your knees again," she shrugged.

Oh, we were on a joking basis now. 

"Hey, I'm not complaining. I've done it plenty of times, the whole escorting and getting on the knee thing... for other reasons," I glanced down to be greeted by her rosy cheeks. "I was just saying that I could get used to this."

It was Lei's looked flustered as she cleared her throat. "Anyone who sees us is going to think you're taking me to your room. We can stick to that story if you're worried about what people say. Deal?"

"Oh, I give zero shits about what anyone thinks about me, Lei. I just didn't know that was what you wanted others to think about us," I teased. 

An audible groan came from Lei. "Garrick, you're impossible."

 

✦ ✦ ✦

Wake, Big One. 

I rolled over in my bed, my eyes still closed. What’s wrong, Chradh? 

I sense something unfamiliar in the south clearing of outside of Samara. In the pit of stomach, I felt it too. I’ve felt this before.

Before Chradh could finish, my body was already up. I quickly got dressed and strapped on my rider leather. I walked over to the doorway and grabbed the two swords propped against my desk. In the same motion I’ve been doing for years, I crossed them on my back.

Wyverns. And I sense a venin, Big One. 

[sillygoose067]

Charles’s Angel(s)

Ch.18

Charles Leclerc x Reader

As you make your way to the dance studio, you give Charles a brief tour of the company building. “…And here’s the cafeteria, and here’s the hallway that has a picture of every world-famous artist ever, and…”

He simply follows whichever way your arm tugs his and provides the appropriate reactions for each new thing you point out. 

Finally, you reach the studio. As you open the door and make an attempt to step inside, you’re yanked off of Charles’ arm and immediately mobbed. “Aaaaaaah”, you yell as you’re bombarded by a multitude of colors and hands pulling you into the room, embracing you tightly. 

Standing up and brushing yourself off, you huff. “Yaaa! 죽을 뻔했어(I almost died)!”

You hear a murmur of mumbled apologies. Then you hear them do their introduction. “하나, 둘(one, two) Hello, we are Stray Kids!”

They must’ve finally noticed a stricken Charles at the door. “Guys, this is my boyfriend Charles”, you tell them proudly. 

“‘조기요 호크시 누나, 남자 친구가 있나요?(excuse me ma’am, do you have a boyfriend?)’”, you hear Jisung say teasingly, quoting himself from one of his predebut tracks. You stalk over to him and hit him upside the head. “Aah, sorry, sorry, Y/n!”

“와, 드디어 남자친구가 생겼네요…(wow you finally managed to get a boyfriend…)”, sighed Jeongin and Minho. 

You turn to them with a threatening glare. “행동(behave)”

You get introductions done and situate Charles on the sofa on the wall. “Je m'en excuse. Ils sont un peu comme mes frères, du moins à ce stade, et se comportent tous comme des enfants (Sorry about that. They’re kind of like my brothers, at this point at least, and all act like kids). You can sit here while I get their choreo done”

Still recovering from this culture shock, he nods complacently and gets settled. 

…

As you guide the boys through some stretches (and do your best to not goof off with them), Charles watches how well you’re able to connect with the idols, and finds more reasons to be entranced by you. You switch fluidly between English and Korean, as do they, so he manages to catch snippets of the conversations. “Have you guys filmed any new content?”

“Oh yeah. We went to Jeju Island, picked some of their famed oranges, had some amazing seafood, played games, you know the usual”.

“Wow, sounds like fun! I saw Hannah has been making some of her own music, I’m so proud of her!”

“Yeah, me too. I would never tell her this, but I do feel sorry that I wasn’t there for her when she needed me the most. So the fact that she’s managed to get this far on her own makes me strangely proud of her. But DO NOT tell her I said that”.

You walk over to the monitor and listen to the completed songs, brainstorming the possibilities of choreo. As you begin to teach the dances to the boys, Charles can’t help but notice your charisma and how lithely your body moves. Dressed in an oversized T-shirt with a loosened neckline, showing your collarbones and a single shoulder, and baggy dance pants, it was safe to say that a lot was left to Charles’ imagination. 

He also begins to understand why so many people like this genre of music so much. There are specific parts of the music that he catches onto. “Item, item, I ate them, Pac Man”, “Fingerlicking, yeah I’m cooking up a SuperBowl”, but the one that catches his attention the most is one that dropped and went, “Here, the people call my name, Here, I’m on the Hall of Fame…” Even though he didn’t understand all the lyrics, somehow the song spoke to him. He’d have to ask you to translate the song for him when you got to the hotel. 

Your body moved with a certain finesse, something that showed that you were confident in your moves, and you loved doing this. He watched as you compassionately instructed and fixed the posture of the “students”. This must be how you felt when he’d taken you to see his cars. 

When all of you decide to take a break, you come over. Panting and literally dripping with sweat, you plop down next to him and grab your water bottle. “Sorry, not my best look right now”, you cringe when you catch him staring. In fact, to him, you’d never looked more ethereal. 

[french-unknown]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝟕𝟓𝐭𝐡 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 (𝟐) | 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫

finnick odair x fem!reader

summary: As a Victor from District 11, (Y/N) was close to the Victor of District 4 but the 75th Hunger Games turned everything upside down.

warning: prostitution, death mentions

word count: 2.3k +

author's note: Hi! English isn't my native language and, even if I can read English text, I have practically never written in this language. So you will be my English practice lesson! Be indulgent, thanks ~

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐 | 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝟕𝟒𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬

A deep rumble resonant into the valley was reverberated while amplificating between the mountains. Paniqued, (Y/N) raised her head to look at where this sound was coming from. And there, right from the north, she saw a huge wave of fifty feet surge toward her.

Suddenly, everything turned black and the girl woke up with a jolt into the darkness of the night. The moon was the only source of light to lighten up the sweat perling on her trembling arms and, above all, the tears that were maculating her cheeks. Her saccadic breath was going at the same speed as her fast-paced heartbeats. A knot in her throat left her incapable of breathing correctly while she was still feeling the sensation of the water on her skin.

Yet, little by little, she gained back control of her respiration and then her body. When she finally stopped crying and trembling, she sighed.

She was in Victors' Village in District 11. She wasn’t in the arena anymore.

Exhasted by her nightmare, she stood up on her still-unsure legs and went out of her bedroom to search for some water in the kitchen. But she found her father in the living room while she crossed the house. He was there, sitting in the dark, absent-minded.

"Dad?" she asked.

As if he were reconnected with reality, he turned his face toward her and made a melancolic smile.

"Why are you still up at this hour?" he asked too.

"I can say the same," she responded. "You worked a lot of hours the last few days, you should sleep a little more."

"It’s Reaping today," he sadly explained. "Some feelings never disappear, you know."

Forgetting her glass of water, (Y/N) climbed on the sofa and simply placed her head on his shoulder. She knew that no word in the world could make her father feel better so she preferred to believe that an act was worth a thousand words.

They stayed that way until the morning came.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿

Standing on a platform on the District 11 main plaza, a wave of stress beached in her belly.

She logically knew that, pretty in her black dress and as a former Victor, she didn’t have any risk of hearing her name today but her father was right: some traumas are graved in the flesh. Besides, even if she is not the one who will be leaving, two other families will be destroyed in the next hour.

The sight of the crowd in front of her just kept that aweful feeling getting bigger and the other Victors', Seeder and Chaff, presence at her side didn’t change anything.

However, it didn’t stop the ceremony from beginning.

The same promotional clip was projected on the big screen as every years then the strange creature who will be the escort this year went to the urn for female tribute. She chose a paper.

"Rue Montgomery," she announced with a smile.

The mob separated to make way for one of the lost girls in the first ranks. But (Y/N) could only see the scandalized looks on her parents faces at the back.

Rue’s parents and hers had been friends since childhood. In consequence of this, she always knew the girl even if they weren’t close due to their age gap. She couldn’t even eye the brown-frizzy-haired girl while she went closer to the stage under the escort's concerned eyes.

"Any volunteers?" she asked with some kind of diluted hope.

But only the sound of the wind responded.

So she turned to the male urne and pulled another piece of paper with the nametag of a young, strong and robust boy who climbed the stairs before both of them were separated into a room to say goodbye to their families.

The crowd dispersed and the Victors moved toward the car that would bring them to the train.

Still (Y/N) intercepted Seeder on her way before she went up in the car and guided her to a more quiet place away from unwanted looks.

"Please, take care of her!" she immediately begged the woman who has been her mentor at her own Games.

"It’s also your job," she responded.

"But I know her!" added the (H/C)-hair. "I can't even look straight at her because we both know she’ll be dead soon. She doesn’t have a chance! Please."

After a silence, Seeder nodded and the younger felt a little bit relieved.

This feeling didn’t stay for long since she was intercepted a few feet away by two adults that she instantly recognized as Rue’s parents. They pleaded with her to help their loved daughter, to prepare her and to bring her back home. They desperately cried all the tears from their bodies.

(Y/N) couldn't expose them to the cruel reality.

A 12-year-old child from District 11 will never be strong enough to survive several bloodthirsty teens from Career Districts. She will never be an interesting ally who will be protected by another district's tribute. She will never be considered entertaining enough to receive gifts from sponsors.

In the best case possible, she will die without too much pain or fear on the first day.

She was saved by the Peacekeepers who pushed her into the car before the tribute’s parents could finish their beseechings.

On the train, she closed herself in her cabin during the entire journey.

At the moment she arrived at the Capitol, she left her possessions at the Tribute’s Village and immediately rushed to the 7th floor. She jumped on Johanna and started to blather about her problems when they arrived in the brown-haired girl’s room. Even if she winced several times, the District 7 Victor let her speak without interrupting. Once she finished, she could get her temper back. She thanked her friend and agreed to let her unpack peacefully.

But when she came back to her floor, she saw an envelope with her name handwritten on it on her doorstep.

Accompanied by a white rose, she didn’t need a drawing when Lucretia, her stylist, arrived with a wonderful white corseted dress in one hand and makeup in the other. She chatted about a meeting between potential sponsors to which (Y/N) was invited.

So it was with a man that she arrived at the Tribute’s Parade. After a complete afternoon of hearing conversations about the Hunger Games: how much they were excited, rumors about the still unknown arena, or how tributes seemed promising this year.

She wanted to vomit.

However, she kept her smile on and stayed as entertaining as she could. She knew what would happen if she didn’t.

On the stands, she noticed some familiar faces. Jonhana, who already appeared irritated. Seeder and Chaff were discussing a few ranks behind an unusually interested Haymitch. Career Victors were meeting together and laughing not so far away.

But it was another person who caught her attention.

Effectively, Finnick Odair was proudly standing there with a woman too much makeuped for her age. Too much makeup in general, actually. He looked convincing as he seduced her with his overly smooth smile and whispered sweet words into her ear. She giggled and hit his chest while he continued to charm her.

And, as if he felt the insistent pair of eyes, he looked around him and perceived (Y/N).

Sadly, before anyone could make a move, the man who was accompanying the District 11 girl put his hand on her hip and used it to bring her closer to him. He placed his lips near her ear.

"It’s better if you don’t get sick tonight," he murmured.

(Y/N) felt a first thrill of disgust go through her spine when his breath brushed her ear. A second one followed right after she understood what he said. But, far from being discouraged, the man took this reaction for something else and smirked with satisfaction before reporting his attention to the circuit where Tributes will parade at any moment.

When she wanted to find the blond-haired guy with green eyes again, she found him at the same place, with the same person, in the same position.

But his gaze wasn’t playful anymore. It was just unreadable.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿

Throughout the duration of the Games, (Y/N) avoided as best she could the room where the citizens and sponsors were viewing the Games. Only, it didn’t prevent her from knowing about Rue’s death in the arena.

The news spread to her through a knock at the District 11 floor door.

She knew Johanna didn’t watch the Games anymore this year since her two tributes passed away. By the way, she thanks her for the bottle of alcohol she brought this night and which made both of them forget the horrifying atmosphere around them. She didn’t come back home after that, so they still met a few times to chat and drink together.

But it wasn’t the explosive-tempered girl behind the door.

She was face-to-face with Finnick Odair.

"Hi Honey," he started with his well-practiced smile. "Will you let me in?"

Already kind of annoyed by his over-smarmy character, she went out of the way and he didn’t wait a second before stepping inside.

As soon as the door was closed, District 4 Victor’s aura changed: his shoulders stooped, his chin lost a little bit of his height and, mainly, his abominable superficial smirk wore off from his lips.

"So, do you hold up?" he softly asked.

(Y/N) only shrugged her shoulders. She didn’t really know how to respond without ending in an unterminable monologue.

"What about you?" She tiredly answered. "And Mags?"

A grim laugh passed the barriers of his lips.

"Both are already dead."

"Bloodbath?" she continued, sluggish.

"For him, yeah," he somberly declared.

"We can say that it was effective this year," she laughed without humor. Some memories surged into her mind even if it was mostly the sound of the weapons clashing against each other as well as the surprised or painful screams of kids.

"Not yours," affirmed Finnick, bringing her back from her memories. "You would have known if you've been there."

The girl sighed then went to the bar of the floor with the purpose of resting her back against the counter.

"Don't tell me you came here just to say that." She began to get angry.

"It’s your job to support them in the arena, you’re their mentor. You’ve no choice," he reminded her. "Even if it’s become personal."

The District 11 Victor felt a thunder of irritation pass through her mind.

"Johanna?" she wanted to know.

"I know all that she knows as much as she knows all that you know, and you also know all that I know," he claims. "It will made 3 years, still surprised?"

(Y/N) slid the length of the counter until her butt touched the ground and she could feel her knees pressing against her chest. She wound her arms around her legs and couldn't help but feel hurt.

"No, but you know how much I love when people talk about me behind my back." she bitterly retorted.

Finnick moved and took a seat next to her.

"We’re just worried about you." he explained while raising his streched arms on his bended knees.

However, his sleeves rolled up and exposed the rednesses snaking on his forearms and wrists. Alarmed, (Y/N) straightened to take an arm closer to her eyes. But she couldn’t do anything when the blond-haired guy resumed it before rolling down his sleeves again.

"What happened?" She confusedly asked even if she thought she had already gotten the answer.

"Cliente."

A deep sadness lumped her throat. Her eyes started to get watery when Finnick grabbed her hand and brought her back to him. With her back against him, he slipped his arm around her shoulders.

Wedged in the hollow between his arm and his chest, she relaxed herself to try to profit from the heat coming from his body. She let herself imagine the sea smell which normally perfumed his skin but was covered by one of the Capitol's strong fragrances. Her head fell back to be placed next to his neck.

"Sorry to announce this to you like that, but your girl passed away earlier." he declared as softly as he could.

The (H/C)-haired girl immediately frozen before relaxing as fast.

"Did she suffer?"

He tightened his embrace and a weight was settled on the top of her skull while one of his tuft of hair went twirling around her temple.

"No, the District 12 Tribute took good care of her," he said. "She left in peace."

"For Hunger Games." she moaned. "It will never stop…"

Fiinick's free hand on her side got closer to hers. Without moving, she accepted it when he entwined their fingers together.

"As long as we stay together, everything is going to be okay." he declared. "Everything is going to be fine."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿

Several days later, when the Hunger Games were won by the pseudo-couple of District 12, (Y/N) came back home. At the moment her foot touched the ground, she was instantly accosted by her mother and her older brother.

The first one had a terrible expression on her puffy face with her little red eyes and her hair all around her in this kind of nest of knots from which some hair strands escaped around her face. Besides, even if her clothes were clean, lots of folding marked her outfit and made her look messy. Her brother at her mother’s side didn’t seem better.

Getting an eye around her, she finally noticed the unusual number of Peacekeepers in the streets.

Her way back to Victors' Villange was spent in heavy silence and there, behind the closed doors of her house, she discovered the dreadful news. After Rue’s death, riots began in the entire district, but they were immediately contained and the instigators were publicly executed.

Among them were Rue’s father and her own.

[lilyevanstan1325]

❤️ Built For This World ❤️

Chapter 1

I drag myself with difficulty to the edge of the long road that stands in front of me.

My senses are on alert as I move slowly but decisively towards the trees on my right.

I feel too exposed here, the trees will give me a little more shelter from prying eyes and teeth ready to bite me.

I blink violently as the sunlight blinds me, burning my clear eyes.

Mum always told me "Clear eyes are delicate, always protect them"

And I, who was only five years old, snorted impatiently while, with a very sweet smile, she placed a pair of sunglasses on my nose and then kissed the tip making me giggle.

I have always loved my green eyes just because they are the same as my mother's, they are the only thing that reminds me that she existed.

I have nothing left of her except an old photo, creased and worn by the tears I shed over it.

Every time I see my reflection, if I concentrate hard enough, I can see her in my features, I can pretend for a few moments that she is there in front of me.

Our resemblance is the only thing that constantly reminds me that she was a real part of a life that today no longer belongs to me.

Emerald eyes.

That's how dad called her.

I can still hear his voice as he whispers those sweet words to my mother.

I sigh thinking about how much they loved each other.

They have always been my example of true, pure and strong love.

They are what I aspire to or rather what I dreamed for myself before.

Now there is nothing left, only death and despair.

I look around looking for a slightly shadier spot but without great results.

The heat is increasingly unbearable, especially at this time of the afternoon.

Not that I have a watch with me but from the position of the sun in the sky I'm pretty sure it was a few hours after noon.

I breathe deeply and the hot air burns my nose, my lungs.

The heat burns my throat, corroding every clear thought.

Damn…

I didn't know Georgia was so damn hot.

I mean, even though I am walking in the depths of the forest, the sun gives me no respite, it infiltrates the branches and leaves with unprecedented violence.

It's like it wants to constantly remind me “Hey bitch I'm here, I know where you are.You can't escape me"

The jeans I'm wearing fit like a second skin, making me sweat even more profusely while the white t-shirt I'm wearing has noticeable, and if I had been in the company of other human beings, embarrassing patches of sweat near the armpits and along the entire back.

Let's say the smell I give off isn't the best.

For a fraction of a second my vision blurs, slowing down my already limping and clumsy pace.

The sounds around me become muffled.

I no longer hear the cicadas singing in the heat of this desolate and cursed land.

Without realizing it, I stop and rest my hand against the rough trunk of a tree, the bark scratches my palm but I barely feel the pain.

Nowadays I feel numb to everything.

I no longer feel anything except the inexorable passage of time.

Forty-two days, I think as my vision comes and goes, repeatedly showing me white points of light on my black boots.

That's how long I've been wandering.

Forty-two damn days.

On my long journey to Atlanta I encountered few living people but many, too many, dead.

Fucking biters.

I tried to keep a low profile, only killing them when I really couldn't help myself.

My only weapons are my trusty knife and a machete found in an old abandoned car near Charlotte.

As for the living, well...in that case I avoided them as anyone would avoid STI.

Or the biters.

It depends on your point of view.

But the thing that amazes me is that I have never met his men.

Or him.

Maybe they didn't think I would run away south.

Or maybe they never looked for me.

Why should he commit his men, in his opinion his most precious resources, to look for me?

Maybe there was a time when he would have turned the world upside down to find me but in the last few weeks he had grown colder.

It wasn't him anymore.

Without feelings.

No hugs, no sweet words.

Only barked orders, half-hearted phrases.

As if I were another one of his stupid men and not the most important woman in his life, as he used to call me.

It is as if he had convinced himself that his love for me made him weak in the eyes of others, as if love me made him vulnerable and therefore less credible or reliable as a leader.

I feel my legs give out, my knees tremble, forcing me to kneel on the hard ground.

I bring the hand that isn't busy gripping the tree to my head, as if this gesture could ease my pain.

The same excruciating pain in my head that hasn't left me for days now seems to explode with ferocity, as if I suddenly found myself hanging upside down and all the blood was draining towards my brain, giving me the not so pleasant sensation of my eyes being forced out of my eye sockets.

In the midst of this ocean of pain I can hear the cawing of a crow that echoes throughout the forest, making me jump violently, making my heartbeat skyrocket.

I feel it beating so hard that I have the almost mathematical certainty that at any moment it could break through my ribs and come out of my chest.

The crow flies away with a rustle of wings, continuing on its way unaware of having almost caused me a cardiac arrest.

Another dizziness takes me by surprise, making me lose my grip on the tree and finding myself on all fours, my stomach shaking with violent spasms while empty retching fills my dry and sore throat.

I know what's happening.

I'm aware of it.

The problem is that I'm fucking scared of it.

I can't accept it.

After all, who could do it?

Who would be able to accept their death as if nothing had happened?

I feel my eyes burning but no tears appear.

My crooked mouth in a grip of perpetual pain burns, the dozens of small wounds that cover it bleed with every small movement.

I've learned to live with hunger, it's not as difficult as it seems.

The last time I think I ate was about two or three days ago.

I had found a small cabin in the woods, I think it was an old hunter's lodge.

With only a few hours of light ahead of me, I had decided to stop and set a small trap near my refuge for that night.

Maybe I would catch a disgusting possum or if I was really lucky a rabbit.

But instead, the next morning, the only thing I found was a little mouse.

Small, defenseless, gasping desperately with his little paw stuck in the trap.

He squealed forcefully, fighting for his life.

I still remember the tears of disgust at what I was about to do but it was for my own life.

For my survival.

I felt pathetic feeling sorry for a small and insignificant ball of fur but I think I saw myself in him.

Too small and defenseless for this world that is now too cruel and cowardly, destined to succumb but not therefore willing to give up.

I believe my sleep deprivation played a major role in my little mental breakdown.

An hour later I was sitting in front of a small fire, my hair glued to my neck from sweat and the remains of that little warrior on the ground in front of me.

“Mors tua vita mea” I found myself whispering while looking at those little bones.

Both of us, the little mouse and I, had only one mission, survive and there would be only one winner.

The failure of the little rodent guaranteed the achievement of my goal...surviving a few more days.

A rustle in the distance brings me back to the present.

I try to use every ounce of strength to concentrate all my energy on lifting my head, to at least try to understand where the noise is coming from, but by now dehydration is taking over, making me weak and exposed.

Vulnerable.

And in this world if you are vulnerable you are dead.

I lower my head in defeat, my forehead almost touching the dry leaves on the ground.

The smell of mold and musk tickling my nostrils.

My fingers dig into the ground with anger and frustration.

The sun continues to burn the back of my neck undisturbed, dulling my pale skin.

Some dirty strands escape from my bun and stick to my sweat-beaded forehead.

I am thirsty.

I'm literally dying of thirst.

And honestly it's a horrible death.

I finished my last water about five days ago.

For the next two days, after the end of that precious liquid, I drank my own urine twice.

I still remember the feeling of disgust, the tears rolling down my cheeks.

My head screaming at me not to do it while my body begged me otherwise.

I had to do it, I had no choice...

But then between the sweat and the lack of any other liquid even the urine disappeared and now I haven't drunk for almost 48 hours and my body can't take it anymore.

It's shutting down.

I am slowly and surely losing all functions.

Like I'm falling but I'm doing it in slow motion, I know I'll crash eventually and it'll be horrible but I can't do anything to help it.

I'm there, sitting in the front row watching my end.

Cool.

That rustling again.

I would like to get up, my instinct tells me to check what it is, to fight, but my body no longer responds to me.

It's like my brain has dissociated itself from everything else and told me “Hell no baby, I don't give a fuck, I'm done.Now it's your business"

Another round of retching knocks me out, forcing me to lie down on the ground, melting against it, with the dry leaves as a pillow.

I hear footsteps and I can't understand if they belong to a human being or to a biter.

The sounds are confusing, like everything else after all.

Thoughts become incoherent, and reality mixes with memories of the past.

“Come on my little girl, don't give up”

Is my daddy's voice?

The almost musical cadence of his voice makes my heart skip a beat.

Or is it just the palpitations due to dehydration?

Then another voice…

“Summer?Where are you my dear?"

Mom?

It's you?

Where are you?

Rolling onto my side and using the last of my strength I lie down onto my back.

Behind my closed eyelids I can perceive the intensity of the sun.

The sounds in my ears don't make sense, they come and go garbled and distorted.

Words, angry growls, whispers.

I believe my time has finally come.

The only regret?

Knowing that I came close, so close.

Atalanta is only a few tens of miles away and dying like this, devoured by some horde or simply devoured by my own thirst, sucks.

Dying sucks.

It's not how I imagined it.

It's certainly not like in the movies, that's for sure.

There is no last soft sigh, nothing romantic.

No cathartic moments.

No understanding of the meaning of life.

There is no flashback, no images of your life flashing before you.

Indeed...every breath is a stab, a slow torture that consumes your soul.

First, it fucks your brain and then he takes everything else.

An agony without grace.

Dying is not easy.

But despite everything I will die happy knowing that I tried in every way.

I tried to survive tooth and nail but in the end this world got the better of me.

A lone tear drips from my left eye.

Then the darkness.

Here, today, my journey towards a better life ends.

My run towards the freedom ends.

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