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ronearoundblindly · 10 days ago

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platonic Bucky Barnes x Alpine!Reader Steve Rogers x shapeshifter!Reader

part of Companion Animal (see previous or series)

Summary: A news story leads your father straight to you, but do you care what he has to say? Steve and Bucky sure don't...

Warnings for mild language and talk of bad situations (child abuse, alcohol abuse, injury, death) ((that sounds awful but it's quick, I swear)). Angst with a happy ending. For safety, though these things are only vaguely discussed, MINORS DNI for this chapter! WC ~2k

The storms have lasted 44 hours so far. Since his apartment is too small for two full-grown humans (who aren’t a couple) to live, you’ve spent the majority of these cooped-up days as Alpine. Buck has resorted to cleaning a rifle on the coffee table, and in doing so, he triggered the laser scope.

Of course, now he’s going on the second hour of using the laser to play ‘kill the bastard red dot’ with you. He’s delighted at your animated, affronted attack on the lightning fast devil, playing along that the perfectly uncatchable point is simply slipping from your paws. It is a blast to chase, but his laugh values even higher than you can jump up the wall.

The dot disappears.

Your eyes are wild, your furry chest heaving from the exercise of jumping and flipping.

Bucky’s phone is turned over in his hand, and he glares seriously at the screen, taking a deep breath. You think it’s because he’s been called to a mission.

Instead, he bites his cheek and looks your way. “Pretty girl,” he says softly, “I need you to not freak out, okay?”

That can’t be good.

“Human-style freak out, I mean.”

Your eyes sting in the drying wind lashing past your fur, but as much as you’d like to blame the alarming tap of errant raindrops in your face, it’s actually that you would be crying were you in your real form right now.

By the time you and Bucky walk up to HQ, you’ve decided it’s best to get this over with. You’d choose to never do this, if you could, but that ship has sailed.

“You don’t have to go in there,” Bucky assures you, the stairwell door clicking shut to give you some privacy to shift. “You give me the word and Steve sends him packing.”

“I’m fine.” You yank the door open and barrel past him. “I’m fine.”

Bucky whistles and ticks his head the other way down the hall. In your defense, you’ve never gone to Steve’s actual office. You’ve only been in this building a handful of times really.

The first face you see inside is his, deliberately placed to show you concern and empathy, because Steve, like Bucky, fears this interaction.

Your father doesn’t even look up.

He sits on a small couch, wringing his hands, a flask and the news article with your picture, smiling, on the coffee table in front of him.

That’s how he found you: a candid photo where Tony Stark stood beside you after creating your collar. The blur in the corner of the photo is Steve’s back if you remember correctly.

Dad focuses on the small vessel like booze will answer all his prayers.

Some things never change.

“Could we have some privacy?” he asks you meekly.

Before your lips can part, both men behind you bark “no,” punctuated by Steve’s “no way.”

As much as you don’t want Steve and Bucky to know about your previous life, you’re comforted. You cannot stand for them to leave you alone with this man. Buck perches in a corner, looking fittingly scary. After you take a seat across from your father, Steve remains at your shoulder but not too close, arms crossed over his broad chest.

And so it begins.

Though less contentious than you expected, Dad starts into a long-winded excuse that lacks almost any detail. When your father says he looked for you, Steve bristles and bites out a strained “not good enough” before chewing his tongue instead. The sudden gesture not only made your father squeak in alarm, but you shrank away from him in the chair.

He brought alcohol in a flask but swears it’s been hours since he’s had a drop.

“I have a theory that you’re like me…and I drink so I won’t…change.”

He’s ready to tell you even if you aren’t; Mom knew only that he left home at a very young age, but the truth is he ran away.

Your grandparents fought a lot apparently, and grandpa beat his wife and son. Dad was abused, and abused, and then he escaped by ‘changing.’

He doesn’t specify. He just…changed. He ran, terrified for many reasons, and couldn’t get back home, couldn’t control it, and got caught in a sticky trap and had to rip skin off of his foot.

It hurt, your father swears, so he tried to numb it like he saw his mother and father do. Alcohol made it easier, but he couldn’t control it.

“Stole jewelry mostly, small things I could carry and hoard, so when I changed back, I could pawn them,” Dad confesses. “You see, when Princess came around and meant so much to your mom, I drank. It was the only way I knew how to stay human! So—so the cat wouldn’t hurt me, but if I couldn’t…”

That’s how he lost ‘his job,’ which wasn’t a real job and wasn’t being supportive of you and mom and certainly wasn’t being a good man anyway.

He hoped you weren’t like him. If he’d told you or Mom and you’d freaked out? He thought he’d end up in a lab somewhere. He was so afraid all the time. Then Mom died, you ran away, he realized you could have shifted and been scared. He looked for you but has no answers, no real understanding of any of it, no stability to offer.

Dad is close to tears, his fingers instinctively stretching toward the flask.

“I wasn’t worth coming back to. I know that. I’ve done too much—too little in the past to be forgiven. I was never wanted this way.”

He becomes jumpier and more agitated by the minute, and then Steve grumbles a single phrase.

“Abused becoming abusers in different ways.”

Your father shivers, squeaks again, and begins to shift. His clothes pile there empty, cascading from the cushions to the floor until a pink nose nuzzles out from between a shirt tail and waistband.

“Oh,” Bucky startles. “Oh.”

“It’s…it’s a rat,” Steve deadpans in confusion. They weren’t paying the closest attention to your father’s implications, likely horrified to know this much more about your past and childhood, this stuff you never talk about because you like to focus on the future.

“Give us some space,” you sigh reluctantly. “Please.”

You know he needs to feel safe but won’t with two super soldiers towering over him in an unknown building.

“Only because you asked,” Bucky says loudly. “Be right outside.”

Steve’s hand rests on your shoulder for a long moment while he debates moving at all. Finally, when Bucky holds the door open for him, Steve lets go and steps closer to the couch, several terrified squeaks coming from the corner.

“We would never hurt her.” Then near silently. “We love her.”

He’s out before you process the words.

In the quiet that follows, while your father calms down and you…think, you go around to the other side of Steve’s desk, hoping the physical distance will help both of you feel less caged.

There—in the righthand, prominent spot by the pen cup—is a framed sketch of you, as Alpine, sleeping. Your chest tightens, full of the lucky feeling that springs from being so much better than the broken creature on the other side of the room. You were older when you shifted. You found Bucky on day one. Those two sweet and patient men barely blinked when you posted needed them.

Dad had none of that.

He coped, but he coped poorly.

Sure, you were both scared and confused, completely caught off-guard by the shift, but you were angry, too. You were grieving and determined. You were…

…not alone.

“I learned to control it,” you project over the desk. “You can, too. In fact, I—I hope you do because burying all your worries and insecurities in alcohol isn’t fucking working.”

Dad reforms in the corner by the couch, pulling his clothes over him quickly. “I know,” he admits.

“Mom would have wanted you to get better, to feel better without numbing yourself. She…she really loved you.”

“I know.” You spin the desk chair around while he slips on his clothing. “They really love you here, too, huh?”

You bite back a smile, realizing the truth of it. You’re not in a ‘phase’ of life. You don’t have to move on from them, your people, your family.

“This—“ you say confidently “—is not a place people like us need to hide.”

Bucky takes over handling your father’s travel back to his home. Dad will be offered any resources he needs to learn to shift at will, but it won’t be you who oversees it. You’re not there yet.

Steve’s hand is on your waist or the small of your back from the instant you emerge, uncaring who in the hallway is watching. Once your father is out of sight, he steers you into his shadow and asks what he can do, what you need from him right now, and you squirrel yourself into the office again.

Steve’s steadying hand becomes an arm then the other, an all-encompassing hug that warms you somehow deeper than your very bones.

Family is exhausting. Family is everything, too.

“I was so young,” he whispers, face buried in your hair while yours nuzzles to his chest, “but I know Ma was…I know my father had his demons. Then my ma fought everybody’s—taught me to fight everybody’s demons—but you don’t have to. It’s an excuse. Unless he proves he’s sorry? Well, even saying it doesn’t undo—“

“Can I stay here a while?” you interrupt. It’s not that you don’t appreciate what Steve’s telling you, but you’ve had enough of talking, you’ve had enough of listening, and you want to settle your soul in the comfortable place it was just hours ago, joyfully bouncing around chasing an uncatchable dot. That feat seems more possible now than fixing a broken relationship.

“Of course,” Steve mumbles to your temple.

You let the shrinking feeling takeover and shift into Alpine. He immediately understands you’re done talking, returning to his desk, assuming you’ll curl up on the couch for some distance.

Rain batters the lone, thin window. Bucky won’t ride back to the apartment in this weather if he can help it, so he’ll wait it out as well.

Instead, you hop into Steve’s lap and watch him type out a message to Buck that you’re okay.

Before you lay down for a nap, one desperately needed to replenish your wiped out emotional bandwidth, you step up on Steve’s pec to headbutt his strong jaw. The fondness makes him chuckle.

He cups his hand around your side and kisses your soft head.

“Careful there, cutie, or I’ll take you home with me.”

Wouldn’t be so bad, you think, enjoying the soothing pitter-patter of drops down the glass pane and the subtle roar from wind, since he loves me an’ all.

[Next Part: Borrowed For Blue]

[Main Masterlist; Steve Rogers Series List; Bucky Barnes Masterlist]

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#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #alpine the cat #companion animal series #shapeshifter #shapeshifter!reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #bucky barnes fic #angst with a happy ending #angst with comfort #angst with fluff #steve rogers fluff

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toournextadventure · 9 months ago

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everyone but her pt.44

Summary: You and Wednesday have an argument. Probably the first one in as long as you can remember.

Word Count: 6.2k Warnings: swearing, unwanted advances, delusions Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (Masterlist)

You were still spitting werewolf hair out of your mouth an hour after getting back home.

It had been a mad dash to get Eugene and Enid to the hospital. You had been able to carry Enid, but both Ash and Wednesday had to share Eugene’s weight. The doctors were quick to take them back and assess the damage, and the three of you were left waiting out front.

Thankfully, Enid healed fast and Eugene wasn’t as bad as he looked.

“You know,” you said as you fell onto the couch, “I think we’re one accident away from being banned from the friend group.”

All the air was pushed from your lungs as Wednesday fell on top of you.

“I believe you may be correct.”

“At least they’re okay,” you said.

Wednesday simply hummed in agreement. The weight of her body resting on yours was comforting. Her elbow was digging into a still-forming bruise on your ribs, but it didn’t hurt. Not really. Not when her ring rested securely around your finger. Not when your ring gleamed in the artificial light of the apartment, illuminating every inch of her entire being.

Engaged. Oh geez, you would probably need to tell your family at some point. Abuelita and Momma knew of your plan, at least most of it, but this wasn’t exactly expected. Surely they wouldn’t get onto you, right? It wasn’t like you had planned on Wednesday whipping it out so soon, she still hadn’t graduated yet. Everyone knew marriage before graduation was a recipe for disaster.

Well, maybe it would be fine. After all, Wednesday Addams was anything but normal.

Something tickled the back of your throat.

“I hate werewolf hair,” you said as you tried to cough it up.

“You shouldn’t have bit him,” Wednesday said matter-of-factly. “You were aware of the outcome.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumbled.

Silence fell over the apartment, and the wear and tear of the evening finally started to settle. While not the worst fight you had been in, there was nothing gentle about a werewolf. Simply holding on to his neck was enough to throw you around, leaving your body sore and stiff.

Wednesday, in a strange way, was like your personal ice pack. It was lovely.

Something rattled against the wooden table near the kitchen. It cut through the silence like a knife. Both you and Wednesday jumped. In a move that was uncharacteristic of your girlfriend - fiancee, you thought giddily - she looked at you until you nodded in silent permission before getting up from your lap.

You stared at her ass shamelessly as she walked over to the table and grabbed her phone.

“Everyone okay?” You asked after she set the phone back on the table.

“Eugene is awake, and Enid is back home,” she said.

You pushed yourself up from the couch. “Good.”

Your knee creaked as you shuffled over to the table. The logical part of your brain knew they would be okay; Eugene was tough, and Enid was… well, she was Enid. And she was tough as nails. But there was still a part that worried they wouldn’t be okay. That you and Wednesday had shown up too late, and you would have to sit by idly while they died.

They should have, the voice in your head said. They should have died in the woods.

Then there was that part that you just wanted to shut up.

“No more woods for any of us, right?” You asked as you wrapped your arms around Wednesday’s waist. From that position, she smelled of the damp forest.

“For anyone,” she answered quickly. “Enid can transition into a house dog.”

You laughed to yourself at the thought. Enid? Your Enid? She could never. After she had turned for the first time, she had been an insatiable little beast. If she couldn’t get outside - which had only happened twice - she would cry and whine and practically knock the door down until she could leave the confines of the apartment. It was endearing.

And a little expensive.

Mention of the woods made you pause.

“How did you know Enid and Eugene were in the woods?” You asked. She hummed inquisitively. “You ran out of the apartment like you knew exactly where they were.”

“I did,” she said. “I saw it in my vision.”

“What?” You asked, unwrapping your arms and stepping back. It was like a jolt of electricity had gone through your body.

“Twice, actually,” she said as if you hadn’t just pulled away from her calming… coldness? Was that the right word?

“What are you talking about?” You asked.

Still, she didn’t turn around. “Once at your mother’s faux charity gala, then again after exchanging rings-”

“-stop, time out,” you said. A little louder than necessary, you would admit. “What do you mean, visions?”

Finally, Wednesday turned around. She had a look on her face that eerily resembled the not-deer you occasionally saw in the woods. Not afraid per se, but fearful. Striking an unsettling cord in your own chest while doubtless hers felt the same.

“We were both students at the school specifically for Outcasts,” she said simply.

“I know that,” you grumbled. “But you never told me anything about visions.”

Her head tilted to the left. “Why do you believe I was at Nevermore?”

You could have laughed. Truly, you could have. Why did you believe she was there? It was obvious why she was there, everyone had seen her! All it took was one look before everyone figured out why she was there. Hell, if she had said she created Nevermore, you would have believed her!

“Because you’re a fucking freak!” You said. “Respectfully,” in a softer tone. “And you tried to kill some people.”

“You were mistaken.”

Well no shit, you thought. How could she not have told you? Sure, maybe you had never asked, but you didn’t think you had to. Had everyone else known she had visions? Were you the only one who had no earthly clue what your own fiancee was at the Freak School for Serious Freaks for? She… she didn’t think you didn’t care, right?

She lied to you, the voice hummed. Effortlessly.

No, she hadn’t lied. It was an omission of facts, that was all. Which… oddly enough, didn’t make you feel any better. She really hadn’t even hinted at anything? Just let you think she was constantly having some sort of freaky seizure, or fainting, or who knew what other horrible thing you could think of. And she just… didn’t tell you?

She dragged you into danger, the voice taunted. Find out why.

“What did you see about the woods?” You asked. “About Eugene and Enid.”

“I saw them injured on the ground while…” she paused. That wasn’t right. “Someone stood over them.”

Why would she pause?

“Who did you see?”

She didn’t answer. Wednesday didn’t answer, and that wasn’t right. You two didn’t keep things from each other, that just wasn’t how you operated. You don’t tell her about me, the voice said, but you pushed it aside. You had partially told her about the voice before; this wasn’t the same.

“Wednesday,” you said again, “who did you see?”

Her singular deep inhale should have been answer enough.

“You.”

“Jesus Christ, Wednesday,” you said with a harsh exhale.

Your fingers ran through your hair, getting caught in tangles and picking out twigs and leaves. How could that have happened? How could she have seen you standing over them? You of all people? You would rather die than hurt Enid or Eugene, on purpose or on accident.

“These visions aren’t fact, they can change,” Wednesday said matter-of-factly. How could she be so calm? This was serious.

“Who else have you seen me hurt?” You asked; your voice was getting higher. “If you think I could hurt Enid and Eugene, then who else?”

Her typical glare softened. You didn’t want it to soften. You wanted her to tell you that you were being ridiculous. Why couldn’t she do that? She needed to tell you that things were fine, she wasn’t serious, and her visions were just a… a silly goofy time or some bullshit like that.

But she didn’t. She didn’t say anything, just looked at you like you were a kicked puppy. Your mouth was salivating; drooling, if you wanted to be brutally honest about it. Blood rushed through your body, sounding like waves against the shore. Except it wasn’t as pretty.

Say something.

“Who, Wednesday?” You pleaded. Begged.

Pathetic.

“Mack.”

You know the rush of adrenaline you get after doing something risky or exciting? When you felt elated, invincible, like nothing could touch you. If anything, you felt like you were on top of the world.

Yeah, you didn’t feel that.

You felt the crash. The drop in your stomach that made you feel ill. Trembling hands hung by your side. Wednesday was still looking at you, waiting for a response. Or waiting to see if you would lose your shit.

“Fuck you, Addams.” There wasn’t much else you could say. There wasn’t much else to say.

Wednesday’s eyes went wide before quickly returning to a scowl.

“I said they weren’t fact,” she argued.

“No, no, hang on,” you said, shaking your head. You took a step away. “Let’s forget, for five fucking seconds, that my own fiancee didn’t tell me about her visions.”

She blinked once, but otherwise tried to appear unphased.

“Now you think I would hurt- no, kill Mack?” Another step back; the back of your skull tingled. “I would never put his wife and kid through that!”

“I know.”

She said it too quickly. Did she really know? It wasn’t the first time she had potentially accused you of some sort of violence. When your therapist was murdered, she was hesitant about your innocence even though she said otherwise.

She doesn’t believe you.

Yeah, that much was obvious. For all the steps you had taken away from her, she had yet to step closer. Against popular belief, you did have a logical part of your brain. It knew why Wednesday didn’t come closer and chase you.

But the logical side was drowned out by the overwhelming paranoia that was sitting on your chest. It creeped through your arteries, prying open every valve and filling every inch of your heart until you couldn’t breathe and your fingers went cold.

She doesn’t trust you.

You knew that.

She thinks you’re dangerous.

You knew that too.

The walls felt like they were closing in around you. A prison, just for you. You were accutely aware of each and every feather on your wings. Each breath you took rattled in your ears like some kind of ghost.

Out of the corner of your eye, someone was just standing there. Watching you. Waiting for you to lose it and make a mistake. Like usual. Like always.

You couldn’t breathe.

“I can’t do this.” Your voice was so quiet you weren’t even sure if you had psoken at all.

Wednesday didn’t say a word.

The figure creeped closer. Not with steps, no, he never actually moved. He just appeared closer. Your chest felt tighter. A paralysing sense of doom fell upon you. It didn’t land like a blanket, covering you completely. More like it settled on you like snow; small, almost unnoticeable until it was too late and you were trapped under it’s weight.

The figure appeared closer again.

Run.

“I have to go,” you said.

When you turned your head, the figure disappeared back into the shadows.

You had to leave. Something was wrong and you could feel it. It was in the apartment, hiding in some forgotten corner, waiting for you to walk by so it could drag you back to the depths of limbo.

“Where are you going?” Wednesday asked when you stepped into the hallway.

You didn’t know how you had gotten there.

A new feeling crawled into your throat and left a lump.

“Why don’t you ask your visions?” You shot back. Wednesday visibly flinched. “I’m sure they’ll tell you.”

You didn’t wait for an answer before shutting the door and leaving the building.

—---

“What can I get for you, sweetheart?”

You blinked once, and all the sounds of your surroundings assaulted your ears.

The bartender was waiting for an answer.

You stammered out a response, fully unaware of what was requested. The bartender nodded and smiled politely. You blinked once. When your eyes opened again, you were seated on one of the stools at the bar. It was rather nice. The wood was polished so well you could see your sad, pathetic reflection on top of the reddish wood.

“Here you go,” the bartender said softly as he slid the lowball glass in front of you.

By all accounts, it was a lovely-looking drink. A dark amber liquid filled the glass around a singular sphere of ice; a ripoff. The smallest sliver of spiraled orange peel rested precariously on the rim. On closer inspection, you even saw two cherries at the bottom of the glass. Alright, that made up for the lack of liquor.

The glass was cold as you lifted it to your lips and took a sip.

And shuddered.

You hated old fashions.

As the drink disappeared sip by sip, your thoughts ran rampant. After all those years dating, and all that time being friends - or acquaintances, if you asked Wednesday - how could she have never told you about her vision? Not even a hint!

Not even from your so-called friends.

And that was another thing. Had everyone else known? Even just some of them? You didn’t know which was worse. That everyone knew and didn’t fill you in on that important fact, or no one did. Actually, scratch that, you hoped no one knew. At least it meant you weren’t the odd one out.

They all lied to you.

It made you angry; irrationally so. Wednesday, the woman you loved and planned on marrying, hadn’t told you the crucial fact of what her Outcast ability was. She had hidden it from you for years. Had let you stay in the dark.

Just like Nicky.

Maybe… you had some trust issues with psychics.

From the mirror behind the bar, Nicky stared at you with a malice you hadn’t seen in him. It was wrong. He should never have that look about him. Not your Nicky.

But he smiled like him.

“Buy you another round?”

You practically had to rip your eyes away from Nicky’s to face-

“-Mr. Stokes?” You asked incredulously.

“Please, that makes me feel old,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Call me Eric.”

You weren’t sure you wanted to. This was the man who had represented your parents for… well, for as long as you could remember. He had been the one that attempted to give you a shit plea deal. Sure, he had always been nice outside of that. Even when you were younger he had expressed a soft spot for you, which was kind.

But you weren’t sure you wanted to call him by his first name.

“Sure.” You still didn’t call him Eric.

“So can I?” He asked. “Buy you a drink?”

You looked back down at your empty glass. It had not been good. If anything, it had been rather disgusting; you preferred something sweeter. But you could feel a nice little buzz forming in the back of your skull, and for a moment you weren’t quite as upset with Wednesday as you had been. Granted, the more you thought about it, the more upset you got.

Out of the corner of your eye, you studied Stokes. He was looking professional, yet far too casual for your liking. Surely it was inappropriate for you to be talking to him without Moreno, right? You weren’t under arrest but… you learned quickly not to talk to anyone without your lawyer present. What if he questioned you? Or tried to trick you into trouble again? No, Wednesday would have wanted you to keep your mouth shut.

Wednesday lied to you.

On second thought.

“Sure,” you said with a tight-lipped smile.

With the grace of an alcoholic, Stokes ordered something for the both of you. You didn’t bother listening; at the end of the day, it didn’t matter. The plan for the rest of the night had changed slightly, but the gist was the same. Have a drink, get so hammered you can’t fly straight, and go home to beg forgiveness from your hot goth fiancee.

Life was pretty simple.

The dense muscles at the joints of your back tensed, causing your wings to twitch. Your breath caught as you hastily pulled them tight against your back. The last thing you needed was to cause an incident in a nice bar in… well, you weren’t entirely sure where you were, but it was too nice for you, that was for sure.

“You know,” Stokes said in a sleazy tone. “Your parents might not like them, but I find them rather stunning.”

His fingers carded through the feathers closest to him. The simple touch sent a jolt of white-hot shame through your every nerve. He shouldn’t be touching them. They weren’t for him. Almost instantly, you felt dirty. Like you were tainted now that someone who wasn’t an Outcast had touched you.

You hummed a simple “thanks” and shifted, practically hiding your wings from his view. He didn’t need to see them. It wasn’t any of his business. The only ones who could do so were your friends and your family. And even then, touching them was a privilege reserved for the few. It was not a right.

He sighed and sat back on his stool. “Haven’t seen you since your arraignment,” he said. “You look good.” Gag. “How has therapy been?”

A mangled body was leaning against a tree, similar to how you had been when Yoko had found you. The only difference was, while your wings had been outstretched, his arms were stretched in the same way. His clothes were tattered and hanging off a decomposing frame.

“Well, my therapist was murdered and I haven’t found a new one yet,” you shrugged, “so.”

At his shocked silence, you both looked forward facing the bar, and took a large mouthful of your drinks. It didn’t sting like the old-fashioned, which was nice. No, it coated your tongue and the back of your throat in an almost syrupy texture. Too thick for your liking, but again, you weren’t paying, so who were you to complain?

“My, uh, condolences,” he said once he placed his empty glass back on the bar.

He doesn’t care.

No shit. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out.

You took another long drink and inhaled deeply. The overwhelming smell of cigarette smoke infiltrated your senses. Whoever was smoking needed to make themselves known and soon. You always did your best not to smoke because, as everyone always pointed out, it was unsightly. Disgusting, is what Ash had called it. And honestly, you agreed.

But not when you were drunk, and not when you were alone, and certainly not when you were drunk and alone.

Being drunk - you weren’t there quite yet, but you were no quitter - made you realise something extremely important. You missed Wednesday. And you were still mad at her, but you missed her more than you cared about holding a grudge. If she hadn’t told you, surely there had been a reason. Wednesday never did anything without prior planning, so you had no doubt she knew what she was doing. Or even more unlikely, she had genuinely just forgotten you didn’t know. You wouldn’t blame her; your ignorance surprised even you sometimes.

You wanted to go home and see her. Maybe give her an idea or two of how she could make it up to you, and you could spend the entire weekend making amends. And in the throes of passion, you could propose properly and she would lay there and say “I love you, cara mia.” It would be romantic and all kinds of out of character and you didn’t care.

Nicky was in the bar mirror once again as you looked up. He was standing directly behind you with something less malicious in his eyes. Something about him still wasn’t right. It was in the slight tilt of his head. The sneer on his lips. The menacing stance as he stood right behind you and placed his scarred hand on your shoulder.

The mix of scalding heat and freezing cold on your shoulder would have been enough to shock anyone into a heart attack. It spread from his hand, chasing each other further down your arm until the burn scars tingled from the sensation. It was unpleasant. You didn’t want it to stop.

It was an impulse; instinct even, to turn around. He was more similar to a Not Nicky, but you wanted to see him. To look into his eyes again, even just one more time. But when you turned your head and looked, he was gone. Gone because he had never really been there. Gone because you could never really get him back.

You killed him.

“See someone?” Stokes asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

Slowly, you turned back to stare into your drink. “Guess not.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him nod slowly. He wanted to say something else, you knew he did. He was a lawyer, for fuck’s sake, he would never be done talking. As far as you were concerned, it was part of the job, and he fulfilled his duties well.

His knee pushed against yours.

You wanted to see Wednesday.

“I should start heading home,” you said, pulling your leg away from his.

“Why?” He asked with a curious lilt.

“Wednesday is waiting up for me,” you said simply.

“No, she’s not.”

“She is, and I forgot my phone so I’d better get going.”

“Do you even know where you are?”

You froze halfway off the stool. No, you didn’t. Nothing about the bar had been able to tell you where exactly you were in the world. It was easy enough to mark off that you were still in the United States; everyone spoke in a very clear dialect. But aside from that, you had no clue. All you knew was the bar was far too nice for you, and you were starting to feel that bundle of anxiety forming in the bottom of your stomach.

“Since you’re here,” you started, “I’m assuming DC.”

“Don’t be a smartass,” Stokes said quickly. “It doesn’t become you.” He looked you up and down. “Did you two have a fight?”

“She went out with friends,” you lied effortlessly. Or so you hoped. “I hadn’t meant to be gone this long.”

You tried to stand up again. Just as quickly, his warm, clammy hand grabbed your forearm. It was almost instinct to swing on him. You wanted to do it; his smug face was becoming increasingly irritating. The faint conversations and the barely audible piano in the corner eased into your brain. It was calming; a nice reminder that you were in public.

“Please don’t touch me,” you said aloud. I’ll slit your throat, is what you kept to yourself.

“We both know you don’t need to rush home,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

He smiled. It was repugnant. “Your little girlfriend isn’t waiting up for you.”

She was. You knew she was; it was Wednesday. Not once had she ever gone to sleep while you were out, not even a simple nap. She would wait up until you walked through the door. Would she go to sleep immediately after that? Yes, sometimes, but she would never do so without knowing you were safe.

He’s lying.

“I don’t think we should be talking anymore,” you said.

“What, without your lawyer?” He asked with a low chuckle. “You’re not under arrest.”

He was too close. You were able to keep the bar stool in between you, but that didn’t really matter when he kept leaning over it. His thumb was rubbing circles on your inner forearm and you felt sick. It was scratchy and so very unlike Wednesday’s. Hers would have been comforting. This wasn’t.

“Thank you for the drink,” you said softly, refusing to meet his eyes.

Gently, you pulled your arm back towards your body. He let his fingers trail down your arm, tickling the skin until you were released from his clutches. The hair on the back of your neck stood up, but you still refused to look at him. Sometimes, playing meek worked; you hoped it would work again.

You only took two steps away before he spoke.

“How are those murder investigations going?”

Your stomach dropped.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he continued. “Your sheriff called me a few weeks ago.” Don’t turn around. “He asked if I thought you were capable of murder.” Don’t. “Or your little girlfriend.”

No. Wednesday would have never killed someone. She killed that hunter. Okay, she would have never killed someone that didn’t deserve it. Maybe she was creepy, sure, and seemed a little unstable in the moral department, but she was no murderer. Who the hell did he think he was? Who the hell did the sheriff think he was?

When you turned, you were greeted with another ominous grin. You were of half a mind to show him just how capable of murder you really were. He wouldn’t be so smug if he knew half the shit you had done just to survive, let alone for fun. And if he so much as breathed in the direction Wednesday was, you would correct his behaviour promptly and efficiently.

Let him talk, Wednesday’s own voice echoed in your head. Let him talk himself into a corner.

“Obviously I haven’t told him anything yet,” he continued, taking a step closer. “I’d hate to see such a pretty thing locked up.” His hand reached out and grabbed your own, interlocking your fingers. A coil twisted in your stomach.

“What do you want?” You choked out.

You wanted to deck him.

“Some colleagues are coming over to my place,” he said with a shrug, “and I’m due for a promotion.”

“At,” you looked at his watch, “2 in the morning?”

“It’s a nightcap,” he said coolly. A lie. “Be a dear and be my arm candy for the night, would you?”

The very thought of being his “arm candy” was repulsive. Forget the fact that you were dutifully bound to Wednesday in every way imaginable. This man had known you from the moment you were born. He had watched you grow up and had attempted to assist your parents in throwing you in jail. And he wanted you to help him? It was preposterous, you would never agree to it.

“First thing in the morning, I’ll call your sheriff back and say you and your girlfriend wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Well shit.

Over Stokes’ shoulder, you met Nicky’s eyes in the mirror. This was the moment you needed him to speak again and tell you not to go. That you and Wednesday would be just fine on your own and, quite frankly, the sheriff probably hadn’t even called him. There was no investigation into the both of you, and the police were barely looking into the actual murders let alone the fake ones.

He didn’t say a word. Just a sinister smile that shoved a chill into your spine, leaving your entire body cold. But it quickly passed and you were left with a warmth, spreading from your chest to every fingertip and toe. The message was clear. You nodded once, slowly enough for Stokes to not even notice.

“Let’s go.”

—---

As much as you despised the situation, you couldn’t deny; Stokes’ apartment was ridiculous. It was massive, and not in a tasteful way. You wouldn’t say you were a professional when it came to big spaces, but you knew tasteful. Tasteful was space to exist, but not too much where you felt alone even when other people were around. Tasteful was making the space your own, with knick-knacks or photos or… hell you didn’t know, boy band posters or something.

This wasn’t tasteful. It was obscene; large just to be large. An attempt at proving how impressive you were or how much money you made in a year. There was no pride in such an extravagant show of greed. If you were really looking for big words, you could describe the whole thing as gluttonous.

Wednesday would be so proud of your words.

All the men you were supposed to impress were tools. Absolute, total tools. From the moment you walked into the room with them, they eyed you like a piece of meat. It was humiliating. They even touched your wings after you explicitly told them not to. Fuck normies.

They drank. All of them. Most of the time they didn’t even talk about work, which led you to believe this was not a work function. (Which you secretly knew anyway because, let’s be real, who holds a work function at 2 in the morning?). The only thing they wanted to talk about was you. Not even to you, just about you.

“You could have at least hired someone to wear something nicer,” one of the men said.

Your feathers were, quite literally, ruffled.

“Oh please, she’s no escort,” Stokes said with a dismissive wave and a ridiculously fake laugh. “We go way back.”

The least annoying of the men looked at you. “Is that true, darling?”

Oh, you could gag.

You put on a brave face anyway. “It is,” you said with a polite smile. “Practically since I was in diapers.”

The look Stokes gave you was venomous. It didn’t hold a flame to Wednesday’s stare, but it was a decent attempt for a sleazy man. His grip on your waist tightened, and you barely resisted the urge to stomp on his foot. Sure, it would have been childish, but you honestly didn’t care. This felt like some weird hostage situation anyway, might as well get your way about something.

You could have gagged from how incredibly misogynistic they were. It was almost effortless how they talked down about… well, everyone actually. No wonder Wednesday always had a grudge against rich people even though he was one. The difference between the Addamses and these lawyers was like night and day, ironically. You didn’t think the Addamses could be more selfless, and yet the men around you were still talking of how they could fuck everyone up to stay ahead of the game.

Each of them took their shot at getting your attention. Whether it was brushing against your hand, or letting their fingers graze the sensitive feathers of your wings. Another had even tried - pathetically so - to kiss your neck. It was disgusting, and even worse, it had you rushing back to Stokes’ side. Which he, of course, got the greatest pleasure from.

As the minutes ticked by, your anxiety increased. You wanted to get home and see Wednesday; you wanted to see your family. Things were too chaotic, and all you wanted was for everything to slow down and go back to normal. Nicky was already in the corner of the room, so you were halfway there already! All you needed was Wednesday and things could be normal. Things could be nice.

While you were thinking about how much you missed your fiancee (which wasn’t unusual as it was almost exclusively the only thing you thought about), the pigs- oops, you meant men, finally finished their talks. A godsend, truly, to be able to not have to listen to them talk anymore. They had said so many words that meant absolutely nothing. It was practically enough to ease any resentment you held towards Wednesday’s lying by omission.

Any joy you felt at the men leaving was rapidly replaced with nothing less than genuine fear. They had been the buffer. Now that they were gone, you were stuck with Stokes. Alone. In his apartment. And he was looking at you with the drunken gaze of a predator in a college bar.

“Thank you for that,” he said, his words slurring ever so slightly. “I think you helped my case.”

“Then you better hold up your end,” you said. His head fell to the side as he furrowed his brows. “You’ll tell our sheriff that Wednesday and I weren’t involved in anything.”

His face relaxed. “About that,” he said, stepping closer. You took a step back. “I think there’s one more thing I need from you before I’m willing to make that call.”

Each step he took, you matched. All night you had been forced to put up with his ridiculousness. His wandering hands and eyes. His friends. Now it was time for him to hold up his end of the bargain. He was going to let you and Wednesday off the hook so you could both go be happy again.

When your back finally hit the wall, and Stokes effectively cornered you, you saw Nicky over his shoulder. Standing there; silent as always.

You had admitted to Wednesday that you had been seeing him again. The Not Nicky that had attempted to trap you in the burning house. Coaxing you to stay with thoughts of home and family and peace. But you hadn’t told her he never left. He stayed there, watching you, speaking to you. Becoming such an integral part of your day that if you didn’t see him, your anxiety spiked and your stomach dropped.

But he did not tell you what to do.

“Just one more thing,” Stokes said. His breath reeked of cheap liquor.

“Let me go home,” you said softly. Far softer than he deserved, but you weren’t looking to get your ass beat so late into the night.

His hand cupped your cheek, and you fought back the urge to knee him in the dick. The only person who could touch you like that was Wednesday. She was the only one who held not only the privilege but the right to touch you. Her hands were soft and shockingly cold; they held such a unique form of love.

Stokes had rough hands that left you feeling dirty.

“It’s too late for you to go back now,” he said, breath fanning across your face. “It wouldn’t be gentlemanly if I didn’t have you stay.”

“I’ll be okay,” you said.

Beside you on the table rested a letter opener. A stunning opener with what appeared to be a pure silver handle and a sparkling blade. In the right hands, it was simple yet effective; lethal. He wouldn’t even notice if you reached over to grab it. The amount of alcohol in his system would make it painless, you were sure.

Nicky smiled.

You left it where it was.

“Agreeing to work with your prick of a father was the best thing I’ve ever done,” he said. He was so close, you hoped he couldn’t hear your heartbeat and believe it was excitement. “I always knew you’d be fucking gorgeous.”

Admittedly, you had always assumed your fight or flight response would be fight. After all, you were a rather… aggressive individual. But when Stokes kissed you, you froze. Every cell in your body was in such a panic that you couldn’t do anything. For a moment, everything felt like fog. Like you were looking at yours and Stokes’ bodies from where Nicky was standing. You looked petrified; he looked sloppy drunk.

When you re-noticed his lips on yours, you were yanked back into your own body. Your hands quickly pressed against his chest, pushing him away. There was a string of saliva hanging between your mouths. His eyes were opened wide and staring straight into your soul.

“I’m going home,” you said softly.

You pushed a little more, and he staggered back. Why he wasn’t saying anything, you didn’t know, but his staring was getting creepy. Slowly, you stepped around him, keeping your own eyes on him to make sure he didn’t do any funny business. He didn’t turn to follow you, or even look at you. Just stayed standing where he was, swaying lightly on his feet.

Nicky was gone.

With Stokes staying in his place, you made your prompt exit from the apartment. If he wasn’t going to say anything more, you weren’t going to question it. You just wanted to go home. Home. Your initial thought should have been of yours and Wednesday’s apartment.

That’s not what you imagined.

By the time you stepped out of the apartment onto the dimly lit streets, you were fully convinced of your next stop. It would be a quick flight. The sun still had yet to show itself, but a few people were out and about. Across the street, you saw a group of kids. They were looking at you with wide eyes and were slowly backing away. Perhaps they knew not to go near Stokes; you wouldn’t blame them.

Behind them, Nicky smiled and waved.

“Go home,” he said in a strained voice.

You walked down the street and started making your way towards home.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday imagine #jenna ortega x reader

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lgwifey · 1 month ago

Text

PROMISE

Chapter Four • Chapter Three Here •

Demetri Volturi x Fem!(cullen)Reader

Chapter Warnings : Google translated Italian, suggestion & mention of past abusive relationship

"Grazie signore."

Y/N stepped out of the airport with a smile on her face to one of the plane's security officers and her bag over her shoulder. She slipped €20 into his hand before making her way through the city. Her black sweatshirt and loose-fitted white jeans covered her skin from the dazzling sun, a large floppy hat rested over her hair to protect her image of reflective skin and golden eyes from the other tourists and citizens of the city.

She waved down a cab quickly, a quick muttered and wink to the driver to take her to the traditional town an hour away. The tanned man gave her a soft smile as he locked the doors and started the drive, she sat comfortably with an earphone in her left ear, the classics playing alongside the dull conversation she responded to.

"Stai visitando qualcuno ?" [are you visiting someone ?]

"Sì, un amico di famiglia. Spero di trasferirmi qui." [ yes, a family friend. I'm hoping to move here]

The man looked at her through the mirrors, kind eyes meeting her unusual ones as he gave a prideful smile at the answer.

"Dovresti, è bellissimo qui" [ you should, it's beautiful here]

"Ho sentito tutte le storie " [I've heard all the stories]

"Oh sì, i vampiri. Sono solo miti, vecchio folklore. Niente di cui preoccuparsi" [oh yes the vampires. they're are just mythical, old folklore. nothing to worry about]

Y/N gave a smile of laughter, shaking her head slightly as the man carried on his conversation in her mother tongue. It felt nice speaking it again, it had been decades since she last had a proper conversation in Italian. The Cullens, other than Carlisle, only knew bits and pieces so their conversational skills were quite broken and difficult to follow most of the time. Over the years she just found it easier to speak English 24/7. Then her New Jersey accent started to fade after a decade or two, her only link to her human life being the photo that sat in her duffle bag.

"I racconti sono comunque interessanti." [the stories are interesting anyways.]

"Ovviamente !" [of course] The man turned the corner down the empty road, dust particles visible in the air as the beige landscapes came into view - the silver exterior of the city being left for the Italian countryside. "E sei in tempo per la stagione dei festival." [and you're in time for the festival season."

"Si, me ne ero dimenticato." [yes, I had forgotten about that] A look of remembrance came to Y/N’s eyes, a soft smile playing on her lips as the man driving gave a nod and she put her other earphone in."Perfetta."

The mutter was left unheard by the man, the drive being filled with comfortable silence for the next half hour until the little green car pulled into the sand beige ancient town of Volterra.

Tanned figures strolled around the streets, hands heaving buckets of grapes and produce to different areas in preperation for Vendemmia, the upcoming festivity. It all reminded her of the past, nothing had been overly modernised yet.

"Dove vorresti- ?" [where would you like-]

Y/N cut him off with a smile, a manicured finger pointing to the large landmark ear them before she hid back under her sleeve.

"Proprio vicino alla torre dell'orologio va bene."[right next to the clock tower is fine]

He gave a smile back, quickly spinning the car to park up infront of the renaissance styled building, the doors unlocking as she pulled her bag close to her body, hand reaching for the cash in her pocket.

"Buon divertimento, signorina." [have fun, miss]

"Grazie, e tu. Tenga il resto." [thank you, and you. Keep the change]

The man held a look of shock as he was handed two €50 notes, the monitor on the car only ask for €44, but he didn't have time to say anything. When he looked back, the back passenger door was closed and the girl who had been sat there was nowhere to be seen. His dark brown eyes darted around the area, trying to catch a glimpse of the large beige hat she had wore throughout the entire car journey, but nothing came to his sight.

After a minute of so he finally drove off, back the way towards Pisa with a confused expression plastered to his features. It was when he left the town's entrance that Y/N reappeared for the wall she was stood against, a smile playing on her lips as she dusted her hands onto her jeans and made her way to the heavy door of the tower, three heavy knocks sounding against it as she waited for the latest human secretary to let her in from the uncomfortable stares of the townspeople.

Her eyes were beginning to darken, her lack of food being obvious as soon as the sweet scent of the secretary appeared through the small gap of the now open door.

"Salve? Posso aiutarti?" [Hello ? Can I help you ?]

The green eyed woman became clearer as she noticed the unfamiliar and unnaturally perfect face, knowing it was not one of the nosey townspeople who were currently staring and opening the door slightly more. She stood in a simple white blouse and a black pencil skirt, her dark brown, nearly black, hair was half pulled out of her face as she looked nervously at the golden eyed girl smiling at her.

"Sono qui per vedere Aro." [I'm here to see Aro.]

"Non ha incontri programmati per oggi." [he has no meetings scheduled for today]

As she went to push the door closed again, a strong hand came out to stop it. The sun caught Nancy's skin slightly, blinding into the woman's eyes enough for the girl to let herself into the tower. She spoke softly as she stared the woman down, chimes filling the human's ears as a blanket of calm covered her previously anxious state.

"Sono sicuro che potresti trovare qualcosa." [i'm sure you could find something.]

The human gave a blink, height on par with the foreign girl as she just gave a giggled smile and rushed over to her desk.

"Si. Per favore, accomodatevi." [yes. please, take a seat]

Y/N turned around to where the woman gestured, finding two bright and plush armchairs next to a wall. To say they looked out of place in the aged interior of the covern's home would be an understatement. She happily sat slouched in one of the chair, scrolling through her phone where a car crash of messages and missed calls from her family remained unopened. She didn't want to hear their excuses, their faux concern. The last few months had shown what they truly thought of her and she wasn't going to let her memories cloud over how they acted.

They'd put a human above her, she could never forgive that.

"Cullen ?"

A snarl came from beside her, the soft footsteps of one of the Volturi's most honered guards strolled towards her.

Y/N gave a slight smile to the crimson eyed blonde stood before her. She wasn't even 5 foot in height but a powerful and terrifying aura surrounded her petite body.

"Jane, I presume."

An unimpressed look was sent Y/N’s way as the guard swiftly turned and started trickling back down the hallways, the taller girl following behind with a few nerves.

What she was even going to do she didn't know. She came with absolutely no plans other than get away from the grasp of her adoptive family.

It seemed like she was just making it up as she went along at this point.

"The kings have just finished their rulings, you will have your time to speak with them now."

The blonde didn't look at her as she pushed the doors to what Y/N assumed was the throne room wide open, her cloak floating behind her as she strolled her way to the other side of the room.

Y/N didn't notice where the terrifying girl went, distracted by the excited voice she heard as soon as she stepped foot in the glamorously ancient room.

Her eyes danced up the ceiling, the dome of glass coated in delicate colours of art.

"Miss Cullen !"

Y/N’s eyes fell down to the man stood in the centre of the thrones, his dark hair slicked back and what could only be described as a psychotic grin on his face. His illuminated red eyes stared at her as he held out a pale hand for her to take.

"So wonderful to finally meet you ! What can we do for you my dear ?"

Y/N slowly made her way forwards, guards closing the doors behind her as she reached Aro.

She'd heard off Carlisle about his gift - the ability to see everything a persons been through and thought of with just the touch of their hand.

"I've recently come to the understanding that my family and I do not share the same ideologies."

Looks of shock and interest darted around the room at the admittance, Aro simply waving the girl forwards to take a hold on her hand.

As she did, the large diamond ring on her left hand clashed against his own wedding band, a muttered apology from the girl being waved off as he took a hold of her hand in his own - his eyes glazing over as a lifetime of horrors that he could never have imagined such an angelic looking thing to have been through ran through his mind.

He suddenly dropped her hand, eyes returning to their usual crazed state as Aro stumbled backwards towards his throne.

"Are you okay brother ?"

The dull tone from the King to the left filled Y/N with concern. Had she done something wrong ?

"Yes, yes. I am fine."

Aro waved Marcus off with little care, returning his eyes to the terrified looking teenage before the room.

"Miss Cullen, your mind... I've never seen anything of the sort."

"I wouldn't have viewed it as anything unusal."

Y/N gave a soft shrug, surprised at the reaction she had gained. Around the room, the other members of the cover just became intrigued. If something had shocked Aro it must've been interesting.

"All that violence, lengths that even I have never seen, at such a young age."

Her mind was taken back to the gang violence she'd grown up around. Mobs against mobs and constant fear of being shot. The amount of blood she'd seen as a child wasn't normal, she knew that. But that was her life. The Y/L/Ns were a very powerful family, not the boss' but very high up on the New Jersey food chain. She was to be wed to the boss' youngest son, natural she had grown up surrounded by 'the business'. She stitched her first bullet wound at age ten, or marbles as Tommy and his friends called them.

"We were at war, constantly. I never knew any difference."

The king simply gave a hum, eyes trailing down to the dazzling gem on her finger. Her sweatshirt only just covered the ring, it having only been noticed as Aro held her hand.

A scowl took his features.

"And that man, how do you stand to wear such a thing off him after his actions ?"

Venom burned her eyes, golden iris' looking down to the jewel with a bitten smile.

"It was normal in my time, and I was usually the one in the wrong."

Her words came out rehearsed, an act she wore when she didn't truly know what to say or do. An act that usually came out when Tommy's abuse was brought to conversation.

"Dear child." Aro trailed off, turning to his brother with a smile before he clapped his hands together ecstatically. "Well, we would be more than happy for you to join us, your gift is well rehearsed and could very helpful to our family."

A true smile slipped onto her features. Her eyes lit up at the expectance, especially if her gift. Carlisle and Edward often told her the use of it was dishonest, tainting people's minds to do her will.

"You may stay in Demetri's quarters whilst we set up somewhere for you to stay that is your own, he will be away for the remainder of the week so settle yourself in Dear. We will make you up a schedule that best suits your gifts but until then please just trail Jane and Alec, they'll teach you everything you need to know."

The king's smile shot through to Y/N, the girl's eyes fluttering over to where the witch twins stood in their identical cloaks. Alec stood with a smirk on his lips and bright eyes whilst Jane contradicted with a glare and snarled features.

This was going to be fun.

"Please, Jane, do show young Y/N to where she will be staying for the time being. We will summon you tomorrow for some more questions, Miss Cullen."

"Y/L/N, and thank you."

Marcus stood with a vague hand gesture before he dismissed the room. His eyes lingered on the latest addition to the cover, her relationship ties looked different to other people's. There was definitely something there he just couldn't tell quite what it was, or to who is connected. It confused him, which was very unusual.

Chapter Five

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#demetri volturi x fem!reader #demetri volturi x reader #demetri x reader #demetri volturi #volturi x reader #volturi #twilight x reader #twilight

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flipidifloppody · 1 year ago

Text

simon says 𐬿 c.sturniolo

summary: an innocent game of simon says but it takes a bit so innocent turn..

pairing: dom chris sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings: smut, NSFW, pet names, degrading, sexual content, hair pulling, oral!(f receiving), backshots..

now playing

simon says- YC banks, B. smyth

00:00------2:44

"let's play a game called simon says"

"SHIT" i heard from down stairs and assumed it was chris' voice as i have known him for quite awhile, we have had a very jokingly flirty relationship but i never saw it that way. i quickly made my way down the stairs to see a pile of games on the floor and chris being over dramatic and rolling on the floor as i assume he had hurt himself somehow. i roll my eyes and let out a quick chuckle before going over to chris, "what happened here" i say with a playfulish voice.

"fucking stupid games fell on me i only wanted simon says" he says in an annoyed tone, i let out a breathy laugh and held my hand out for him to help him up. "who were you planning to play that with?" i look up at him waiting for an answer, "i was gonna ask you but no need to now is there?"

"just us what about we get madi and the others to come play to, i'm pretty sure you can't play simon says as a two player" he nods his head and makes his way into the massive living room of madis, i placed the box in the middle of the floor without saying anything and everyone nodded knowing what i was suggesting. Nick opened the box and looked up at the instructions and then back down at the game and then taking it out the box and placing down the cards next to it. "who wants to go first?" he asks looking around for any volunteers.

"i will" i say confidently thinking this wasn't gonna be that hard but god was i wrong. i quickly picked up a card and read it in my head. "is this supposed to be a dirty game?" i look up to a bunch of grinning faces

"how didn't you know" chris smirked, i look at him then back at the card and read it out loud,

"go into a room alone for 15 minutes with the person to your left" the person to my left was... chris. i look around the room and gulp. is this really happening?

"you gonna do it or what?" a random voice says from the other side of the room, i have no clue who it was because there was like 15 people at madis house since we were meant to have a get together or some shit i don't know i just came coz the triplets brought me. "go have fun" i heard matt say chuckling , i look at chris who was already getting up and waiting for me. i hesitantly got up and questioned myself. what if this ruins our friendship? what if he doesn't like it? what if, what if there's so many what if's i couldn't count them all. he was quick leading me into a spare room while the rest just watched us walk in and then as soon as we're out of sight they went back to playing the game as if it was normal.

i was soon to find out that that game was not a dirty game but that they got a different card from a dirty game and put it in the simon says box to get me and chris with each other because they thought there was some sort of 'sexual tension' or whatever.

my eyes widened when i was pushed against a wall by chris his hand resting on the top of my hips and his head in the crook of my neck, "you don't know how long i've wanted to do this for"

my breath hitches in my throat as i take a deep breath coz tonight we're gonna make a mess. i don't even know if i was mentally prepared for this i mean fucking my bestfriend? yeah, i mean it's not like i haven't fucked anyone before, same with chris but us together, it's like completely drifferent. i was comfortable with his and whatever but it just makes me feel weird. knowing that we basically grew up in madis house together because we'd always come here to hang out and now we're fucking in it? it's crazy.

he presses our lips together in a soft but hungry kiss sliding his tongue over and past my teeth to deepen it but before i could return the favour he broke it and started kissing and grazing down my jaw to my collarbone, which allowed me to let out a soft moan at the pleasure. he grinned against my skin hearing those noises that he created.

"love those sounds princess, wonder if i could make you make more?" i nodded quickly and looked down on him slowly playing with the hem of my shirt, "think you could take this of for me, beautiful?" i hum in acceptance as soon as he hears me he's quick to take of my shirt in one quick motion,i was wearing a hoodie and wasn't wearing a bra since i was literally just asleep, he stared at my chest, which made me feel nervous and i brought up my arms to cover my chest.

chris grabbed my arms and brought them back down to my sides. "no keep them there, your gorgeous."

a nervous smirk played on my face as i let out a shaky breath and just watched him, he took one of my nipples in his mouth and brushed the other one with the pads of his thumb. my head banged slightly against the wall, enough for it to hurt slightly but not enough for me to be in pain. i didn't care if it did or didn't really all i cared about was where this night was going to take us.

he trailed his fingers down my body and stopping right above the waistband of my shorts before switching his mouth to my other nipple. he hooked his fingers underneath the waistband of my shorts and panties in one swift motion and took them off. but before even looking down or anything he brought us over to the bed close by to the door, and placed me on it. he stood over me just admiring my body before muttering ,"all mine." my cheeks went a bright pink and i screwed my eyes shut so i wouldn't have to be as nervous as i was before

he knelt down between my thighs and started kissing and licking stripes down my inner thighs, sending shivers down my spine. my eyes opened wide when i felt his tongue flicking up and down my folds, "already so wet for me and i haven't even done anything yet"

he sucked and nipped on my swollen clit, letting a moan slip from my throat and my eyes to screw shut again, before he stuck two fingers into my heat, overstimulating me more and more by the second. he curled his fingers every time he thrusted them into me, hitting the perfect spot over and over, almost pushing me over the edge.

"mm' close" as soon as i said those words he stopped all of his actions and stood back up, licking around his mouth and sucking my juices of his fingers. fuck.. this was not right i know it wasn't but it felt right. he leaned over me and met my mouth again in a hungry, opened mouthed kiss which soon lost its rhythm and became sloppy. he pulled away and pulled his shirt over his head. "simon says get on all fours"

i do exactly as he tells me to and quickly turn around and put my ass up in the air, "what a shame no other guys will be able to see this pretty ass of yours, it's all mine isn't it?"

i nod barely being able to get any words out due to the fact i was about to cum but i didn't, "words princess, i need words otherwise i won't do anything"

"fuck yes chris i'm yours!" i say quickly trying to keep it paced, he nods in satisfaction before quickly undoing his belt and letting it drop on to the floor along with his pants, he steps out of them and kicks them to the side, he slides of his boxers, which leaves him fully bare, i've never ever seen him so bare in my life bare in mind i've known him my full life and we're both 20.

his cock slaps against his lower chest as he strokes it a few times and he holds his hand out infront of me gesturing me to spit. i collect a wad of spit in my mouth and spit it onto his hand. he spreads it thoroughly in his cock before slowly sliding into me allowing me to adjust

i knew chris was big.. but not this big. i let chris know i was fully adjusted by giving him a quick nod, he started of slow and picked up his pace. taking his time. "chris please.."

"what have i said about using words? please what?" he said cockily, "please go faster.." he chuckled slightly and took a chunk of my hair in his fists pulling it back ever so slightly trying his hardest not to hurt me. he picked up his pace finally almost tipping me over the edge. i've been waiting for this all night and it's now just happening. my mind went blank and foggy, the pleasure was washing over me like anything. it was like i was in a complete new dimension, but no i was in a random bedroom fucking my bestfriend. "almost there.." i said slightly above a whisper, he didn't reply just kept going until i finally released. my cunt spasming on his cock releasing all around him.

"gonna cum allover this pretty back of yours that okay baby?" i nod in allowance as he pulls out of me letting white streaks of white spurt all over my back making patterns.

he collapses next to me, "that was instense" he says panting slightly. "trust me i know"

"that was a little longer than 15 minutes don't ya think?"

a/n: hey i made this one a little longer, i'm working on the matt series it'll probably be out some time this week when i'm motivated or smth just thought i'd write this to get me more into writing the series

@sturnsfav @guccifrog @hoesformatt @chrisownsmyheart @strawberrysturniolo @lovingmattysposts @worldlxvlys @astrolynnworld @sturnioloslurps

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader

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wlwsoccerfics · 2 months ago

Text

A day in the Life of a pregnant footballer (MagdaErikssonXPernilleHarderXRussoReader)

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and symptoms , Google translate used.

Summary: you are almost 6 months pregnant, your girlfriends Play against Wolfsburg and you are in the stands, watching them and your Team Play VfL Wolfsburg.

You sit in the livingroom at 4am. Honestly you were exhausted and wanted cuddles but didn't want to wake up your girlfriends. Because even though you are currently taking a break from football, (because you are six months pregnant)playing for FC Bayern Munich, your girlfriends still very much had to play today and you know they needed some rest.

You couldn't sleep anymore because your unborn daughter was currently kicking against the inside of your stomach like she was trying to fight you. It didn't take long for your two girlfriends two shuffle into the livingroom. Magda pulled you into her arms right away and you cuddled up to her. While Pernille gently stroked your stomach.

"is she keeping you up again?" Magda asked.

"yes unfortunately."you stated. " Don't get me wrong i love our little älskling with everything i have. But not sleeping and being kicked isn't fun." You admitted.

"anything we can do to help? I want you to be able to sleep."Pernille wanted to know.

"i wish you could, but not sure our daughter wants to sleep right now. She prefers to keep me up. But i wouldn't mind cuddles from the two of you. It's just that i don't want to keep you guys awake! You have an important came today. Playing VfL Wolfsburg is rough." You stated. The two looked at one another before looking back at you.

"well we certainly would sleep better, knowing we made sure you would also get some rest, because we love you and this little Girl so much!" Magda said gently.

"and we don't want you to do this alone. We are a Family." Pernille stated.

"i really appreciate the two of you, i hope you know this!" You answered. Giving each of them a kiss. The three of you walk back to bed and you get in the middle of them. After both of them stroke your stomach gently, you ended up falling asleep. And so did they.

The morning wasn't off to a great start when you found yourself hanging over the toilet, throwing up. Pernille was sitting behind you, rubbing your back gently, while also holding your hair back.

"i am here Babe." She whispered out. You leaned against her when you were done with emptining your stomach.

"morning sickness sucks." You breathed out.

"i bet it does!" Pernille stated. Magda walked in. Handing you a Glass of water and your got your toothbrush ready.

"thanks Love!" You told Magda. Sipping on your water. Pernille helped you up so you could brush your teeth. Which you did.

"i hate to bring it up but you need to eat love. What would you like to have?" Magda asked.

"jag känner inte för att äta." You admitted. ( I don't feel like eating. )

"du måste fortfarande äta." Magda said. ( you still have to eat. )

"bare en lille smule. behage." Pernille told you and kissed the side of your head. ( just a little bit. please. )

"fine...banana Pancakes please?" You asked.

"Banana Pancakes coming right Up!" Magda replied. Making her way to the kitchen, while Pernille helped you to take a quick shower and get dressed for the day. Then you ate a Banana pancake.

After that the three of you watched some Netflix documentary. It was a true crime one. Soon it was time to get ready to go to the game. You wore a Trikot with 'Harder-Eriksson' on the back and you had your own number on there. Which was the number 44. You sat in the Front with Magda who was driving while Pernille was sitting in the back. Your sister called on the way to the stadium so you answered the call.

"Ciao Alessia. Come stai?" You asked her. Your girlfriends both loved when you spoke italian. So the Radio was turned off now. They rather listened to you. ( Hi Alessia, how are you? )

"Io sto bene. Come state tu e mia nipote?" Alessia wanted to know. ( i am good. how are you and my niece? )

"stiamo bene entrambi. lei scalcia molto." You explained to your sister. ( we are both fine. she is kicking a lot. )

"diventerà una giocatrice di football." She stated and you giggled softly. ( she is gonna be a football player. )

"non sono affatto sorpreso." You told Alessia. ( i am not surprised at all. )

The two of you chatted for a bit longer before you arrived at the FC Bayern Campus. When Magda found a parking Spot you all got out of the Car. Holding hands with both of them, you were in the middle as you walked into the changing rooms.

"y/n, so Happy you are here!" You heard Lea say. She was your best friend. You went over and hugged her. She hugged you back.

"i am Happy as well! I wish i could help you Girls on the pitch,but i know you gonna do amazing anyways!" You replied. Smiling softly.

"glad you believe in us. how is my niece?" She wanted to know. You took her hand and placed it on your Baby Bump.

"kicking alot!" You told her and like this was an invite for your daughter, she started to kick against Lea's Hand.

"wow that's a strong kick!" Your best friend said.

"indeed it is!" You answered and chuckled softly.

"she is gonna play for denmark." Pernille cut in. Before Magda could argue with that and say your daughter would play for sweden, Georgia walked in. She was your other best friend.

"Uh no doubt that she will Play for England." She told them.

"yes to what Georgia said!" You answered.

There was something more banter with the Team before you, Lena and Georgia went into the VIP Lounge to watch the game. Which was gonna start in an hour. You decided you needed some food cause now the morning sickness had worn off a bit.

The Game was on for exactly 6 minutes when Magda got tackled by Svenja and it has gotten you quite emotional. Angry tears made their way down your cheeks. Stupid hormones.

"y/n, are you okay?" Georgia asked. Wrapping an arm around you.

"Svenja hurt Magda!" You sobbed out.

"she is already back on her feet. And Svenja didn't mean to hurt her. You know it's part of the Job!" Lena stated.

"Tell that to my pregnancy hormones!" You sniffled softly and wiped away your tears with your Hand. Georgia rubbed your back gently.

Around five minutes later Pernille took an elbow to the face, from Alex during a Corner from FC Bayern Munich. You now were angry instead of sad.

"oh she did not just do that!" You yelled out. Jumping out of your seat. Well as quickly as possible with a Baby bump the size yours was. Being six months pregnant and watching your two girlfriends play probably wasn't the best for your health. Cause you really were going through all the emotions. But you calmed down when you saw that Pernille was doing fine and could continue playing.

The second half was a little more relaxing for you. And you ended Up winning 3-1. What a great win that was. When you walked into the changing rooms again you went straight to Pernille to check her face.

"Kære, har du det okay?" You asked, voice laced with concern. ( love, are you okay? )

"Jeg har det fint, engel." She told you. You kissed her head gently before walking over to Magda. ( i am fine, angel. )

"Hur är det med din fotled, älskling?" You wanted to know. (how is your ankle, love? )

"Det är okej. Bara ett litet blåmärke." She told you and kissed your nose softly. ( it's fine. just a little bruise. )

"your girlfriend was going through all the emotions!" Lena let Pernille and Magda know.

"try being pregnant, Oberdorf!" You just replied and chuckled softly. "those hormones suck!" You added.

"aww love. Let's go home and cuddle. We can order your favorite Pizza and watch some movies as well?" Pernille suggested.

"yes please." You replied. So that's what you Guys did until it was getting late and you had fallen asleep on the couch. Magda carried you to bed that night. Both of your girlfriends talking to your unborn daughter in your Belly while you slept.

#woso x reader #woso fic #magda eriksson x pernille harder x reader #magda erikssonxreader #pernille harder x reader #fc bayern munich women x reader

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omorithedreamermod · 5 months ago

Text

FEBRUARY DEVLOG - 1

The third DEVLOG has arrived...this time spelled correctly! Lots of progress has been made since the last update!

IMPORTANT INFORMATION:

So, about saves! I don't know if people noticed the edited DEVLOG from last time, but...it seems that you WILL be able to use your demo saves for the prelude! Testing looks good so far, so hoping it stays this way. Thank goodness, because now all those watermelons you collected in HEADSPACE won't be for nothing! Why is that...? Well! Hehe...

PROGRESS:

Remember how last time I said majority of maps were completed? That was incorrect. NOW the majority are done and only a couple are left. I've made so many maps this week. Thumbs up (fades into dust)

NPCs got cooked up. Basically all are complete, unless a couple more are needed, but for now, basically a done task. Some character sprite art needs to be made still, but not a lot!

All battle art is complete, including enemies, and portraits. They have also been programmed in, so they are fully functional, and battles are a done task! Wasn't as difficult as I thought it would be, thankfully! Battlebacks still need to be made, but those are relatively quick.

OST...I said last time it was near complete. I was wrong. NOW it's near complete. At the moment, there are currently 44 tracks for the full dreamer prelude (including the demo tracks!). There's still a couple more to be made, but definitely mostly done ^^ It's going to be a LONG compilation video!

Writing was on the back-burner while I was focusing on creating assets. That doesn't mean there wasn't progress! Still, from this point on, writing and programming will be a main focus now that majority of assets are complete.

Portraits are not all complete. SUNNY needs more hospital portraits, and BASIL also needs new real world portraits! Those will take a bit...

Currently, all the mirror locations still need to be done, which means completing the battle-backs first. There is also a new title screen art that needs to be done. Along with that...a major, drawn cutscene, and another rougher cutscene...and maybe another short one, as well as art for the credits. A lot of art to do...

NOTES:

March is looking bright! Very bright! One part of the panic now comes from hoping I can program and write everything in a speedy manner, including NPC dialogue and miscellaneous stuff. Once again, a ton of the content is optional. But, like the DEMO, you are rewarded for you investment ^^ There's also a lot of secrets, so, good luck! Badges will be even more fun this time around!

Everyone really stepped up with the NPCs and I am very thankful for the sprite teams help! The OST is also coming along so well thanks to everyone. I've also appreciated the people who have taken the time to answer questions about programming and such that I have!

Still, the biggest point of stress is that I'm doing all the art, and I don't know how quickly I can do these cutscenes. One of them is very important to look clean and beautiful, and I have to do my best to stay very on style, which isn't as easy in cutscenes as it is with portraits. Along with that, real world portraits take longer than, say, STRANGER, who is monochrome. DREAMER was pretty time consuming, but I'm not as solid on real world portrait style yet. I'll figure it out, hopefully...

I'm also concerned once again about the trailer, and making art ahead of time for it for future events. I think it'll be okay, though? I usually pull through! And if need be, I can simplify the trailer a little.

CONCLUSION:

Currently, (along with completing the remaining assets) the goal is for me to complete all the writing/programming to start playtesting before March 1st, which means the PRELUDE will be completed and playable before March. This will NOT include the final art, such as cutscenes, and trailer art that aren't required for progression. So, while playtesting is happening, I will hopefully step back and really get all that art done so the mid-March release is possible!

There's still so much to do, but so much has been done, and I'm very proud of how things are going-to the point I even find the DEMO very lacking compared to the full PRELUDE! Please look forward to the coming release, and the next DEVLOG!

#omori #omori mod #omori game #mod #devlog

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joelssimp · 1 month ago

Text

STILL | CHAPTER 05

CW: Mention of past trauma, maternal abandonment, Mental health disorder, Age gap mention, we get more than flirting y'all

4.2K words

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

05 - You Look Like Shit

It's funny how silly things and trivial moments become a very easy routine when you feel good.

Good...

A feeling that had not been part of my vocabulary for a long time — too long — and sometimes in some quiet moments I would even ask myself if I had ever really had the opportunity to feel that way.

Always busy proving that the statistics were wrong... Statistics that said that young people have a 44% greater chance of being successful when they grow up with their parents being married. Statistics that spoke, and sometimes screamed in my head, that maternal abandonment would indeed have an effect on my life.

So I studied, and fought, I worked, I studied some more and I overcame challenge after challenge.

There was never much time to have friendships that made me feel good like I did in three weeks of staying in Calgary.

Kate, Pedro and Gabriel were responsible for most of my smiles and laughter, on and off set. I also bumped now and then on Sam, the first person I saw in this city, he was always a little shy, but with time a nod became a “hi”, and then sometimes we talked over a coffee when the production was busy preparing things.

The job was extremely tiring as the days went by. When I wasn't taking pictures, I was organizing the photos, or editing them and answering emails from the actors' agents with the approved and rejected ones.

Even then, there was no better feeling when the light hit exactly where I needed it to capture a unique moment on set. Photos of the takes, behind the scenes, the actors, the two directors ahead of everything with such mastery.

Craig and Neil strategically asked Eben (director of cinematography) to gradually involve me more in the production; they would ask me for tips on lighting for one scene or another. I learned a lot from all the experience they had and at the same time I tried to contribute with some knowledge in a way, all while still doing my main job as a photographer.

"Come here and take a look at this scene," Eben pointed to the camera that was filming the kitchen floor with a path of fake blood that had been made for Nico to step on.

I approached the monitor, squinting my eyes to see it better.

“What do you think?” He asked, scratching his beard under the mask he was wearing.

“Hm... I don't know” I pondered, tilting my head to the right “There are two focal points, right?”

“That's right,” Eben agreed. “One in the room and one outside.”

“The light coming from the room is doing the job of being dramatic, but I think the light coming from the window can help with that too” I pointed in different directions “It's too cold, how many K are you using?”

“5,800 I believe.”

“To make it a little more dramatic, I think it's better to lower it. It will give that "late night" feeling” I said, crossing my arms over my camera.

“Anthony” He called his lighting assistant over the radio, and the guy practically came running” Can you leave the outside guide light at around 3,700K?”

“Right away, boss” The young blond guy nodded and went to do as he was told.

As soon as he changed the settings, Eben pointed to his monitor and clapped his hands together.

“That's it, perfect!” He declared excitedly “This will do for the two takes we need. It made the blood much more dramatic.”

“Can I take a picture first?” I raised the camera in my hand and he gave that smile with his eyes.

“Go ahead, Still, do what you do better”

And then I got one of the most chilling photos so far. I asked someone to stand with their foot pretending they were going to step in the blood, I bent down to be able to follow the trail with the lens and clicked.

The second photo was quick, I clicked the master-mind behind of all the cinematography in his natural habitat. Eben was, in my opinion, one of the best directors in the business. He had a creativity and organization that would make any director jealous. His career was a promising one that only grew with the passing of the years.

My fan of cinema and all the magic that happens behind the scenes side got over the moon with all of it. Every day I did something for the first time, and a life full of new things was something I hadn't had since the pandemic began.

I could easily answer that famous question: “When was the last time you did something for the first time?” And the answer was: Every single fucking day.

Sometimes it was helping out with something in production, or going to buy a coffee in a new place, or even meeting new people from different departments. There was always something new in my routine.

Spending even just a minute with Pedro was the highlight of any day. And it became a routine to arrive at the recording set listening to music in his SUV with some kind of drink (coffee or an energy drink) in hand. The sensations in my body became familiar as I got closer to him. The warmth that spread from my stomach to my body, my slightly sweaty hands, my easy smile cracking at the first sight of his brown eyes...

16 years — I had to remind myself all the time — 16 years separate the date he was born, and the date I was born. While he was in college I was eating dirt on the school playground.

But it's not like everything I was feeling was somehow reciprocal on his part. Was he kind? Sure, but that was Pedro's personality. He made anyone and everyone feel special. He was the kindest person I’ve ever met.

“It's not like he give rides to everyone who works with him” Kate said as she poured an absurd amount of coffee from the kitchen jug into her own bottle for the day.

“Our flat is on the way from his place to the studio” I explained to her again, in order to put an end to the theories that were popping up inside her crazy head “He's being kind.”

“Yeah, but again, it's only with you.”

“You also got a ride the day we worked together” I pointed out the obvious. "And you're getting another one today."

I was packing my backpack for another night of filming – the last with Nico in the cast, and Kate would once again work a shift together, since it was an important day in production.

“Exactly!” Kate exclaimed “You were with me.”

“And what should I do? Not accept his rides?”

“That's not what I mean” She said promptly and called by my real name “I want you to open your eyes to the possibility of…”

“Don't get carried away, Kate” I rolled my eyes, not wanting to hear the nonsense she was speculating “Pedro is a friend, anything beyond that is something out of your imagination.”

It was impossible to think about these possibilities that Mandy and Kate always insinuated, and impossible not to feel afraid of losing some aspect of the friendship I had developed with Pedro.

“Alright, forget I said anything” She raised her hands in surrender and I pointed to the door.

“Come on, he must be waiting downstairs.”

Every day we went to the set together, the jokes were our source of laughter, the songs were always lively, and the topics were of the most varied nature. But that afternoon he was different. He was serious and thoughtful. The radio was off, which left an uncomfortable silence during the short journey.

Every now and then I glanced at his face to analyze him, but I received nothing in return.

I didn't bother him, because with Kate in the back seat I knew he would say that everything was fine and that nothing had happened.

The rush of another night of filming embraced us as soon as Pedro parked his car. He said goodbye shyly, with no "see you later" or "come by the trailer during the break", it was just a grunt as a bye that was completely out of character for him.

I tried not to think too much about the change in mood that was noticeable, and I immersed myself in work. One of the easiest things to do in any situation in my opinion. This was the easiest way to ignore any uncomfortable or embarrassing situation, and thanks to Eben and Craig I was able to distract my mind by immersing myself even more in lighting lessons that almost made my head explode.

Night scenes were always more complicated to replicate a light worthy of being on screen, but I was learning from the best in the business.

As much as I had expectations of what the night would be, nothing could have really prepared me to witness one of the most real and painful performances an actor could deliver.

Death scenes are usually the hardest to get the final take right on the first attempts, but the raw and intense emotion that Nico and Pedro left in that scene made everyone speechless.

The stunt doubles for each of them did the heaviest part of the action that followed the shooting scene. They rolled around a few times in the grass until the production had enough footage to make it convincing, and then we got in position to shoot the scene with the real actors.

The heavy atmosphere preceded what was to come next. Something that I could only stand still and watch, with a heavy heart, as if something was suffocating me.

"And... action," Craig said from behind the monitors, a few steps away from where I was.

Gabriel entered the scene, holding the rifle that he had carried almost everywhere during the filming of the last few days. Pedro was lying on the grass, which was carefully lit by two pairs of spotlights in different directions with a very diffuse light. He was panting heavily and following the script to check the “gash” he had hidden under his shirt, which was now slightly torn and dirty.

“Oh my God,” Gabriel said, looking in the direction of where Nico was.

A large amount of fake blood covered the girl, and it was almost impossible to tell that she hadn’t been shot. Her performance made the hairs on my arms stand up, it seemed so real.

As if he were desperate, Pedro crawled towards her, the cameras followed his quick movements, and the audio team was right behind him to capture the dialogue in the best possible way.

My legs seemed to have taken root in the ground. They weighed tons, and I couldn’t even move to do what I needed to do. But I knew that Kate was a little further ahead, capturing that unique moment, and I was grateful for our idea of working today’s shift together.

"No, no, no-no" Pedro grumbled, reaching Nico. The girl's breathing rose and fell so fast, along with a few cries that escaped her mouth.

Her eyes fixed on her scene-partner, searching for his reactions so she could act. And he did not fail to deliver the desperation that the situation demanded.

"Move your hands, baby," he asked. "You’re okay, you’re okay, move your hand" His broken voice was the only noise in the middle of a giant production.

He leaned over to pick her up, and the girl's scream broke through the night.

"OW!" She cried uncontrollably, gasping for air.

"I know, I know, I know," Pedro said.

The pain he conveyed with his voice seemed to want to crash into my bones. The pain of a father. And at that moment, no matter how amateurish my reaction was, I could not hold back the hot, lonely tear that ran down my cheek. With a figure coming to my mind: My old man. Maybe the only person who believed in me more than I did.

“I know this hurts, but you’re going to be okay. Baby, listen to me, listen to me, okay? I need to get you up, I know it’s going to hurt, but I need to…” He tried again and her hands went to his neck, getting fake blood all over his hair, ears, and every part of his body that her trembling hands touched. “I know, I know, I know, I know, I know…” He kept crying.

I didn’t want to watch the rest of the scene anymore. As If my legs weren’t my own, I turned my body and forced my steps in the opposite direction, hoping that no one would notice the effect that all of that had on me.

Ashamed because I knew it was just an act, it was a lie, Nico wasn’t really hurt, and Pedro hadn’t lost a daughter. But my fucking imagination went beyond that scenario.

My mind ran straight to the fact that I was a child born of maternal abandonment, just like that character. I was also taken care of by my single father, who did everything he could to raise two children, and then another from another relationship.

A father who had to admit a son to a rehab center for people with schizophrenia. A son who tried to fatally hurt my little sister, and who I had to step in between the two of them, screaming my lungs out, so nothing bad really happened back in March 2020.

And this scene still haunts me on my darkest days, even after a year.

I walked in a single direction, and sat on the small staircase that led to the door of his trailer. I pulled the black mask from my face, my breathing ragged from walking too fast, and a few tears still fell without proper permission, running down my cheeks as if they had a life of their own.

It was an almost silent night, the air seemed to be still in the same place, and the only thing I could hear was the people working in a certain distance that left the conversations as if they were a muffled noise, too far away for me to be able to distinguish.

After what seemed like an hour of sitting there, his tired and dirty figure appeared between the trailers. His kind brown eyes met mine with a softness that hadn't been there before.

Pedro approached without taking his eyes off me, measuring my pathetic situation. And I don't know what comunicate my need to get some physical contact, but he extended one of his hands to me.

Without even thinking properly, I accepted his touch and was pulled from where I was sitting into a tight hug. His height made the most likely place to put my arms other than his neck — so as not to make something too intimate — was his waist, still a little dirty with fake blood, but not enough to get me dirty.

"Hey," he whispered against my neck, his voice rough with tiredness.

"Hey," I replied, muffled against his shoulder. I was still surprised by the gesture, but I gladly accepted the contact.

With all my senses heightened, it was impossible not to feel the shiver running down my spine. The thumb of his left hand caressed my back in circular motions, as if with those simple gestures, he could somehow erase something bad that I was feeling. My heart was pounding in my ears, and it was likely that he could also hear the pounding that shook my chest.

One of the strongest sensations I had felt since my plane landed in this city.

“You look like shit.” His voice softened at the end of the sentence, trying to ease the tension.

“So do You,” I replied as I pulled away a little. The weight he was carrying was slowly disappearing, and right in that moment I knew that the strange way he was acting was because of work.

“Today’s a tough scene.”

“Jesus, don't get me started.” He gave my arm one last squeeze and walked away to open the door to his trailer. “I’ve been preparing myself since yesterday, and I still don’t think it was enough. I’m exhausted mentally and physically.”

“You two were amazing” I followed him into the trailer, trying to cheer him up “It was so good that I couldn't watch it all. It felt like I was losing Nico somehow.”

“She made everything easier than it should have been, no doubt about it” He practically threw himself on the couch there “It's a good thing I have a day off tomorrow. It feels like I've reached the end of a marathon.”

I sat on the edge of the couch and rested the camera that was on my shoulder on the table next to it.

The comforting silence quickly settled in, and I could have sworn that at any moment he would fall asleep there, since it was already past midnight.

I watched him long enough for Pedro to open one of his eys and give me a curious look again.

“You were crying” He pointed to my face, dangerously aware of my state “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Your performance brought a tear or two to my eye” I shrugged, not wanting him to dig further “Nothing to worry.”

“Are you sure?”

“You already have enough things to worry about.”

“You're one of them” He straightened his body until he sat down with his face looking directly at me “Go ahead, try me.”

I had to look away for a brief moment. He and all his kindness always caught me off guard. Even with so much to take care of, his career, his workdays, his other friends and his family, he still found room to care about me.

The words came out in a rush. “I don't really know why this crying started now, after so long. It's something stupid, really.” I moved my hands nervously, trying to pull off a small piece of skin that was around my nail.

“I bet it's not stupid at all.”

“It was something during the scene, the fatherly way you were treating Nico... It reminded me... It reminded me a lot of my father.” I turned my eyes to look at his. “My father was a single father. He raised me without any support for almost my entire life.”

“Your mother, she... “ He didn't seem to know how to ask, afraid of crossing some line.

“She simply decided she didn't want to be a mother of twins, and ran away when I was two years old.” I cleared his doubt. "We were too much for her"

The sincerity and harshness of my words did not go unnoticed.

I could easily tell people that the woman who brought me into this world had died in some tragic way; that would undoubtedly be a more acceptable story. After all, most cases of abandonment were on the father's side, and the mother always cared for and raised her children alone. Cases of single fathers were rarer; it was usually a story where the mother died and the father had to take responsibility.

Being rejected by the very person who gave birth to you was a pain that could not be cured. It was always present in even the smallest details of life. A walk in the park where mothers played with their children, or a lunch at a restaurant where you could see a woman cutting her child's food with such care and love... The high school graduation where entire families gathered for photos, but the only one who was by my side was my brother, because my father had to work to pay the monthly bills... And then I felt again on my first day at college in another city… Another graduation, but this time by myself.

A life of small memories that always felt like something had been taken from me.

There on that set, the performance I saw before my eyes brought back that painful reminder.

“I’m sorry,” he said, reaching for my hand with his, to somehow comfort me. "I'm trully sorry

The warm palm pressed against the back of my hand, delicate, but strong enough for my brain to register the moment.

“It’s okay, Pedro. It really is something from the past. Like I said: I don’t know why this memory came to me right now, at work,” I said sincerely and shook my head to try to get aways from those thoughts.

“It’s your job, but that doesn’t mean that this kind of thing won’t affect you,” his voice was soft, calm, bringing me peace. “Some memories don’t ask for permission to surface. And I’m sorry for what happened to you, but it just shows how strong you are.”

With minimal effort, he brought me into the second hug of the night. Something protective and comforting. I nestled into the warmth that his strong arms gave and closed my eyes.

His chin rested on the top of my head and I could hear every rhythmic beat of his heart. His scent was already registered somewhere in my mind, and this time I found myself almost drowning in it. It was hard to breathe and even harder to control my thoughts.

We stayed like that for a few minutes, without saying anything, our breathing almost in sync. It was as if he was charging his energies through physical contact too. As if he needed that to calm something inside him as well.

“Come on, I'll drop you off at your apartment. I have an early call time tomorrow.” He cut the silence, but at no point did he make an effort to move.

“I'm off tomorrow.” I said quietly too, making no effort to leave his arms.

“Ugh, lucky you.” His fingertips ran up and down the side of my arm and I couldn't help but laugh softly. “I have two days off this weekend. My older sister is coming to visit me with my nephews. The kids are on school vacation, and she's almost going crazy."

"I work on Saturday, but I have Sunday off before the marathon that next week’s gonna bring on us."

"Cool, maybe I'll drag you for a hike with them on Sunday," he suggested, and only then I pulled away to look at his face.

He was relaxed, a smile displayed on his lips, and his brown eyes were extremely tired.

"A hike?"

"Yeah, I found a light trail on a mountain, near where you almost drowned." He seemed serious until halfway through the sentence, and then his playful tone appeared.

I punched him weakly on the shoulder and he grumbled softly.

"Where you forced me to get on that fucking boat."

"Yeah, yeah, but I wasn't the one who jumped into the water."

“You're the one who made me fall.”

“Me?” He took a deep breath, his hand going to his heart as if he felt offended by my words “I would never do something like that.”

He made me laugh again with his way of turning any situation into a joke.

That was Nico's last night of filming, and it was a goodbye for Gabriel too, since the next time we would see him would be in November when the production would leave Edmonton for a small town called Canmore. So before leaving, we both ran to hug them both.

Gabriel hugged me tightly, always with that huge smile on his face, even though he was tired.

“You got no permission to have fun without me” He spoke close to my ear.

“Not even if we tried,” I replied.

“Let's keep in touch. I don't want you two to disappear on me” He moved away a little and grabbed Pedro in a hug.

“Someone’s gotta work 'round here” Pedro joked, patting his friend lightly on the back.

“The older brother usually” Gabriel answered promptly.

“We'll see each other soon, we won't even have time to miss you” I said without letting my smile go away.

“Take care of that Cabrón” Gabriel said in my direction, earning a big eye roll from Pedro

“Mira quien esta hablando (Look who’s the one talking)” Pedro replied.

“Don't worry, I'll keep him in line” I answered and raised my camera to the two of them “A see you later photo?”

“Just because you asked nicely” Gabriel joked.

I moved away enough to fit the two of them in the same photo. They both looked tired, but the expression of happiness at a job well done was even greater. Gabriel hugged Pedro from the side and smiled without showing his teeth.

Finally we said goodbye to Nico, who would not be participating in the production again. Craig gathered the people around her and the girl received the famous speech of someone who’s wrapping production.

On the way back to my flat, Kate slept in the backseat, and the night air coming in through the window seemed to cut through a different atmosphere. I caught myself glancing at Pedro more times than I would like to admit, and in between those glances he would quickly give me a smug smile back.

#pedro pascal #the last of us #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #production #rpf #ellie tlou

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wynnyfryd · 1 year ago

Text

Trailer park Steve AU pt 44

part 1 | part 43 | ao3

cw: recreational drinking

“You’re just…” Robin looks at him sideways, her face doing something quivery and weird that he’s pretty sure is supposed to be sympathetic concern but mostly looks like she stubbed her toe right after smelling microwaved fish. “You’re sure it’s not too soon?”

It is.

It definitely is too soon.

Steve’s pleasantly buzzed at a New Year’s Eve party — some random rich kid’s house, loitering in the space between the living room and kitchen so he and Robin can properly people watch (see also: be hugely judgmental bitches about the fashion sense of the girls on the dance floor and the sloppy form of the guys doing keg stands on the back deck) — and Steve just opened his fat, drunk mouth and casually admitted to being in love with Eddie.

Eddie, the guy who hated him for years. The guy who tried to knife him the first time they interacted as neighbors.

The guy whose silhouette has started to fill the passenger seat in Steve's Winnebago dreams.

Eddie’s here, but he’s not here; probably posted up somewhere in the basement so he can deal to the stoners and the horny kids playing Spin the Bottle, and Steve—

Steve knows he falls too fast. Always has, but especially now. Steve fell for Eddie like a gunshot going off: a deafening bang, gurgling fish sounds, blood all over the floor. He kinda thinks he couldn’t help it. Kinda thinks he’d do it again.

And how could he not, when Eddie smiles at him like that? When he takes him apart so sweetly with his words, his lips, his tongue? When he dragged Steve by the hand into the back pew of a midnight mass on Christmas Eve, giggling about how he was shocked his satanic worship hadn’t set the bench aflame?

Yeah.

Steve totally understood why Jesus got up on that cross.

“Oh, my god,” Robin rolls her eyes with a strangled huff. “Are you seriously just—? You’re fucking hopeless.”

Yeah, he is, and yes, he is. “No,” he insists, crossing his arms over his chest and trying not to feel like a defiant kid who got caught lying to his mother, because yeah, he totally is spacing out into lovesick La La Land while being actively accused of spending too much time there lately. “I’m not fucking hopeless, and it’s not too soon.”

Robin gapes at him like 'are you kidding me right now?' “Steve!”

“Robin!” he answers, mimicking her tone. Wow. Vodka makes him petulant.

It makes Robin stubborn as hell. She juts her chin out and hollers over the music, gesturing so aggressively she almost spills her drink, “Admit that it’s too soon!”

“It isn’t!” Steve shouts back; digs his heels in and refuses to budge, never mind the fact that it’s only been, like, three weeks since Eddie fingered him for the first time oh, god, don’t think about Eddie’s fingers right now.

They stare at each other for a second, Robin’s nostrils flaring with the words she so clearly wants to yell at him, her breaths coming hot and harsh, and then, with a long sigh, her shoulders deflate. Her chin comes down. She bites her lip again, teeth turning the skin white as her eyes go big and sad. Worried. She's worried for him because she loved him first.

Steve smiles at her, a quick, closed-lip thing that feels more like shrugging with his mouth, and he leans into her space; pats her cheek and thumbs her chin until she stomps chomping on her lip.

“You’re gonna get it all chapped,” he says in a hush, hoping her Steve translator is still intact after a couple drinks. Hopes she knows that he’s really saying ‘I hear you’ and ‘I love you, too; I love that you care’ because they're at a party and god does he not feel like saying sappy friendship shit out loud.

Robin’s eyes get misty. Just for a second — message received; copy that — and she clears her throat and shakes it off. Points at something over Steve’s shoulder and drags him to the other side of the room.

—

part 45

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #platonic stobin #my writing #my fic

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jellesreid · 6 months ago

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Unveiled

In which Elle finally reveals the truth about her sexuality to one of her best friends, Derek Morgan and introduces her girlfriend (Fem OC) she’s been hiding from the team (fluff!)

masterlist

word count: 3.8k

tags: female oc, elle greenaway, delle friendship, jelle friendship, prentaway friendship, elle x female oc, lesbian elle greenaway, bisexual elle greenaway, coming out, sexuality, jemily, secrets, secret relationship, elle in love, wlw, wlw couple, wuhluhwuh, mentions of girls night and drinking, previous jelle kiss

no warnings

notes: I wanted to write Elle a coming out story for a while and I thought the best way to do it was including Derek as I love their friendship. I hope you enjoy, there is some fluffy couple stuff between Elle and the fem oc at the end. (I always send fics with I love yous pls sorry guys!)

—————————————————🩶——————————————————

Elle walked into the bullpen a few minutes late a smile on her face and a light blush on her cheeks. Heading over to her desk she greeted all of her team members in proximity to her with sweet-sounding ‘hello’s’ and ‘hi’s.’ She hung her black leather jacket over her chair and pushed her favourite black shoulder bag under the table with her foot.

“Morning Spence,” She grinned at him taking a file from the top of her pile and pulling out a pen from her desk that Penelope had gifted her on one of the days leading up to her 28th birthday.

“Elle you’re happy,” He checked his watch, “For 8:44 am, you hate mornings.”

“Not anymore, I had a great morning.”

“Coffee for the princess?” Derek asked bringing over the cup.

“Keep that for yourself, I had a cup. I’ll make myself some tea,” Elle said getting up and walking to the kitchenette with a spark in her step.

“What’s going on with her?” Emily whispered over to Derek.

He shrugged back, “I’ve not seen her this happy since… actually I’ve never seen her this happy.”

Elle leaned against the counter waiting for the kettle to boil, “Have we got a case today?” The question was more directed at Emily since she knew JJ would have told her about it already if they had one.

“Yeah but it’s local we should be done within the day,” Emily answered.

Elle finished making the tea and picked up the cup, “Oh great thanks.”

She placed the cup on her desk, took out her phone and sent a quick message.

A few seconds later her desk phone rang and she answered it almost immediately.

“Elle Greenaway speaking.”

The others couldn’t hear the other person on the phone but Elle was giggling almost the entire time and every so often would tell the other person she had to go but the conversation would continue. The call lasted 13 minutes before she hung up and went back to her file and sipping on her tea.

Half an hour later the phone rang again and Elle answered, “You’ve got to stop calling me. I’m a busy working woman.”

This time the call only lasted 6 minutes before she hung up and realised Derek was watching her.

“What?” She said typing some of the information from the file into her laptop.

“We’ve only been here an hour and you’ve had two calls.”

“And?” She asked still not looking over at him.

“You hate the phone, Elle,” Derek observed.

“I don’t hate the phone,” Elle rolled her eyes finally looking over at him.

“Actually you do,” Spencer spoke before continuing to ramble, “Hey did you know Alexander Graham Bell and Elisha Gray simultaneously invented electronic sound transmission devices? It came down to a race betwixt the two-“

“Yeah, and Bell beat Gray to the pattern office by a matter of hours. Common knowledge,” Elle finished.

“Why are you acting so weird?” Derek watched Elle’s body language as she leaned back in her chair turning to face him once again.

“We’re sitting with a guy who knows there are eight hundred kernels of corn on the average cob,” Elle started pointing at Spencer.

“Graded in sixteen separate rows,” Spencer finished not looking up from his laptop.

“And you’re calling me weird?” She pointed at herself a smile with a slight smirk now covering her face.

“You’re getting some loving aren’t y’a? You got a boyfriend,” Derek tried to profile her.

“You’re basing this on what exactly? The fact that I don’t like the phone? That’s all you’ve got, That’s your best? You’ve been a profiler for how long Derek and that is… that’s weak, that’s weak.”

“What’s weak?” JJ asked walking into the room, Elle’s eyes following her and she began to walk past.

“Derek thinks Elle has a boyfriend,” Spencer said but Elle quickly interrupted him.

“Nothing,” she said, she and Emily getting up to follow her to the round table.

“Nothing, see you just denied it,” Derek said getting up to follow them.

“And do you?” JJ asked in a slightly teasing tone.

“It’s more fun not to answer that question.”

“That right there is a yes baby. I knew it. I told you,” Derek said catching up to the women and Spencer who was following closely behind them.

“She didn’t really admit to anything man,” Spencer added.

“Thank you,” Elle glanced at Emily who was looking at her with a knowing look which JJ didn’t pick up on when she looked between them both.

“Reid trust me you’ve got a lot to learn,” Derek said as they walked into the room taking their seats at the round table.

——————

JJ presented the case of a serial killer who drowned his victims in motels. Since it was local Garcia was able to search for some leads from the police department while the team were getting the brief.

“Reid, Prentiss. You check out the first motel and see if anyone that fits the profile has been seen there. Greenaway, Morgan check out the second location. The rest is us will stay at the department, Garcia continue to track credit cards,” Hotchner ordered.

Elle and Morgan separated from the team, Elle drove to the location and after both speaking to receptionists on different shifts they discovered the unsub hadn’t been to this motel yet. They waited in the motel car park in case this was where he would bring his next victim.

“So,” Derek bit into his burger, “Whose the boyfriend?”

Elle sighs, “There isn’t one.”

“Princess I’m not stupid, I can tell by that smile,” Derek took one of her fries.

“Oh really?” Elle laughs, “I think you are.”

Elle’s phone rings but this time she doesn’t answer. She types out a message to whomever she’s been texting and calling all morning before looking back at Derek.

“You’re blushing! Why won’t you tell me?”

“It’s more fun that you keep guessing,” Elle shrugged.

Derek looked out of the car window silent for a few seconds, “Is it a woman?”

Elle didn’t answer, she’d never heard someone actually ask her that before. She dated a popular girl in college so they kept things private and she knew Emily knew she had a girlfriend now because she had exceptional gaydar.. and she had seen them together once in the parking lot after work but she had never asked questions.

“Elle? I asked you if it is a woman?” Derek repeated then thought about it, “No you totally had a crush on me at the start it can’t be.”

Elle snapped out of her thoughts, “In your dreams. I did not have a crush on you.”

“You didn’t?” Derek looked slightly puzzled.

“You asked me out on a date, I said no,” Elle reminded him.

“I thought you were playing hard to get. Maybe I should have known you didn’t like me, your eyes were always glued to JJ when she walked into a room.”

Elle choked on a fry, “What are you talking about? No, they weren’t.”

“They were baby girl, you may not know you like women but your eyes don’t lie. You had a crush on JJ.”

Elle rolled her eyes, “I know I like women but I didn’t have a crush on JJ at least not a big one. Okay, we kissed once but then Emily came along and stuff happens… and I’ve said far too much.”

“Woah woah back up what?” Derek’s eyes were wide.

“What part?” Elle gave him a shy smile.

“All of it? I’m not shocked that you like women, but JJ? You kissed her?”

“Derek you’re a gossip, but yes we were having a girl's night and we kissed,” Elle shrugged.

“And that’s how you realised?”

“No, I knew before JJ, I had a girlfriend in college.”

“No kidding, isn’t Penelope at girls night?” Derek tilted his head confused, if Penelope saw she would have said something to him he thought.

“Yeah she was sleeping, well we thought she was sleeping but she was all giggly around us both for a few days. I’m surprised she didn’t say anything.”

“I can’t believe she didn’t tell me,” Derek pouted causing Elle to laugh.

As Elle was about to reply she looked out of the car window catching a glimpse of a man that fit the description of the man they were looking for.

Once they caught him, they made their way back to the unit meeting JJ, Hotch, Emily, Spencer, Gideon and Rossi before heading back up to the bullpen.

In the elevator Elle rode with Emily, Derek and JJ there was silence that seemed rather awkward to Elle but that was probably because of what she had just discussed with Derek.

“Are we going to the gym after work?” Elle asked Derek.

“You want to? I thought you couldn’t wait to get out of here,” Derek wiggled his eyebrows at the end of his sentence.

“I don’t have plans until 6:30 pm so I’ll have time to kill and I want to talk to you,” Elle fiddled with her sleeve.

“What are you doing later?” JJ asked, she wasn’t nosey but she was curious Elle didn’t usually have plans with anyone unless she was seeing her and Emily or Penelope and Derek. She liked spending the evenings at home with her cat and a book or case file.

“Just someone I’ve been on a couple of dates with,” Elle lied, she had been with her girlfriend for a few months but they didn’t know that, well Emily knew. Elle was thankful Emily hadn’t told her girlfriend.

“Don’t bother asking her questions she won’t answer any,” Derek told the blonde.

The elevator doors opened and each of them exited. Elle and Emily last to exit since JJ had gone ahead with Derek so Emily took the chance to talk to Elle.

“Do you plan on telling them?”

“I will soon, things are just really good right now I don’t want it to change.”

“Elle if she’s right for you things won’t change based on whether or not people know. I’m not sure what happened in your last relationships but they don’t define this one,” Emily smiled.

“Will you and JJ still be here at 6:30 if so maybe you could leave off at that time? She’s coming to pick me up I wouldn’t mind you guys meeting her.”

“Yeah, we can do that,” she and Emily separated to their desks.

Both she and Derek did one case file and Elle put the rest into her bag to look over at home, Derek of course left his on his desk.

He walked over to Elle’s desk and picked up her bag for her as well as wrapped an arm around her waist, “Shall we get going, princess.”

“Hey Derek if Elle really does have a boyfriend he would not like you right now,” Spencer said noticing Derek’s ‘flirting.’

“Jealous that I flirt with all the ladies pretty boy?”

“Leave him alone,” Elle slapped Derek’s arm before saying bye to her co-workers and leaving to go to the gym with Derek.

——————

Elle came through in her usual black sports bra and leggings and Derek was opposite her in a muscle-fit t-shirt and shorts, “So what did you want to talk about?”

“Nope. One round, talk and then another round,” Elle demanded.

“Fine by me,” Derek held up his hands in a surrender position.

“Be prepared to have your ass kicked Morgan,” she gave him a grin.

Morgan won the first round but Elle had put up a good run they lasted 22 minutes sparing with each other. She knew she’d definitely win the next round.

The brunette took a seat on the bench taking a sip of her water and fanning herself to lessen the small sweat she had worked up.

Elle didn’t wait for Derek to ask her again or she might not even tell him she liked to be in control of when she did things, “I think I’m a lesbian,” she blurted.

“You’ve got to stop doing that today how many times are you going to blurt things out to me,” Derek rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious,” Elle crossed her arms.

“What do you mean, you think?” Derek made eye contact with her.

“Well I’ve dated men, I’ve even slept with a couple in the last year,” Elle said.

“And what did you think when you were doing that?”

Elle shrugged, “I wasn’t really thinking about it.”

“Okay, let’s try this then, do you find me attractive?”

“Seriously Derek,” Elle tilted her head to the side in annoyance.

“Just answer the question.”

“Fine, you’re somewhat attractive but no I wouldn’t sleep with you.”

“Interesting.”

“Derek I’m serious,” Elle sighed, “I prefer the women I’ve been with they are more attractive to me and I prefer having sex with them.”

“Then you might be a lesbian Elle,” Derek said.

“Might be?” Elle groaned, “Might be that’s where we started this conversation!”

“Why haven’t you spoken to Emily, she’s a lesbian and she dated men in the past before she realised.”

Elle shrugged, “Maybe I’m scared of the answer.”

“Deep down you know don’t you?” Derek gave her a sympathetic look, “Elle you know you’re a lesbian.”

Elle looked at the floor, “Yeah, it doesn’t change anything though, so I don’t know why I’m scared. It’s not like I’ve ever come out as something but now it’s different and it’s not like I’m with someone I don’t love because of that, I love Sofia.”

“Elle you can still feel scared about something just because it’s something that hasn’t changed for other people it’s still changed for you. Realising things can be scary. You thought you were bisexual since college? That’s a long time,” Derek moved closer to her on the bench.

“Since high school, not college.”

“So that’s over 10 years,” Derek lifted Elle’s chin so she would look at him. He knew why she put her head down, there were tears in her eyes and she would never let herself cry in front of anyone, “It’s okay I promise, You’re still the same person as you were this morning to me, Elle.”

Elle wiped her eyes, “Damn profiler how did you know I was most scared of what people would think?”

“Because I know you but I also know the whole team, none of them will ever treat you differently they love you and it’s not like you’re the only one there’s a whole bunch of fruits in there.”

“Excuse me?” Elle laughed, “Fruits?”

Derek shrugged, “I saw it somewhere.”

“You’re insane,” Elle closed the gap between them by wrapping her arms around him in a hug.

Derek rubbed her back, “You’ll be okay Elle,” He kissed her forehead, “So Sofia? That’s her name?”

Elle nodded, “Yeah, she’s beautiful Derek.”

“Tell me about her?”

Elle nodded again, “She has long blonde hair, it’s more of a dirty blonde but it’s a lot lighter now because of the soft highlights she gets done, her eyes are blue with a hint of green, amazing fashion sense, she won’t leave to go anywhere without jewellery, she’s the kindest woman ever and she makes the best coffee and tea,” Elle’s eyes lit up talking about her girlfriend.

“Are you sure you aren’t dating JJ?” Derek teased.

“No, I just kind of have a type I guess.”

“Tall or short?”

“She’s about an inch or half an inch shorter than me,” Elle told him.

“I assumed you’d date women your height.”

“Why? Let me guess because JJ and I are of similar height?”

“You got it, princess.”

Elle checked the time, “She’ll be here soon.”

“Is she your age?” Derek asked standing from the bench and grabbing his water bottle.

“Kind of,” Elle set herself up in position for the next round on the mats.

“What do you mean kind of she either is or isn’t,” Derek positioned himself in front of her.

“She’s younger, she’s 23.”

Derek laughed, “You sure she isn’t Jay’s twin?”

“Shut up it’s just a coincidence they don’t even look like that similar,” Elle rolled her eyes and took the first punch of their match.

Her predictions were right this time she won the match although she knew Derek was definitely going easy on her. She helped him up from the floor before going back to the bench taking her water and a towel that she draped over her shoulder.

“I’m showering quickly,” Elle checked her watch, “I’ve got time, wait for me?”

“Oh I’m so waiting, I can’t wait to see JJ’s lookalike,” Derek teased.

“Whatever you say, you’re going to be so jealous,” Elle stuck her tongue out like a child would before making her way to the changing rooms.

——————

“You smell like a flower shop,” Derek said when Elle walked into the corridor.

“Thank you,” She grinned.

“It wasn’t exactly a compliment, I mean you smell nice it’s just a bit much,” He shrugged throwing his arm over her shoulder to walk out of the building with her.

“Men,” She rolled her eyes.

“Excuse me?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“What? At least we smell good I can’t say the same about men,” Elle pushed her lips together trying to keep a straight face through her smile.

The brunette's phone dinged, and she removed it from the pocket of her navy suit pants looking at the front screen she saw a message from Sofia.

Sofia: I’m waiting for you in the usual space <3

Elle smiled at the screen, “She’s here.”

“Nervous for us to meet her?”

“Not really, it’s just you, Em and JJ. I’m glad it’s not everyone at the same time,” Elle said as the elevator stopped at the car park level.

As soon as the doors opened she caught a glimpse of her girlfriend’s blonde hair from behind a post just across the other side of the lot, the same smile she had worn on her face appeared when they made eye contact.

“Damn princess, she is pretty,” Derek looked Sofia up and down from afar.

“Stop looking at her like that,” Elle glared at him then picked up the pace of her walk to get to her faster.

Once she was in front of Sofia she threw her arms around her in a tight hug, “Hi, I missed you,” Elle kissed her shoulder.

“Hi baby,” Sofia inhaled the scent of Elle’s hair.

Elle pulled away, “Derek, this is my girlfriend Sofia and Sof that’s Derek.”

“Hi, Elle talks about you a lot,” Sofia smiled at him.

Derek put his hand out to shake hers.

“She doesn’t do handshakes she prefers hugs,” Elle said smiling at her.

Sofia shrugged, “It’s a germ thing. Way more germs are attracted through touching hands than hugging,” She said before giving him a quick hug.

“Wow, Reid would love her.”

“Oh I hope he does, he’s so cute. He calls Elle late at night to make sure she’s safe,” Sofia has a soft subtle smile on her face.

“Oh, he’s either going to love you then or be insanely jealous that you’re dating Elle,” He grimaced.

“He likes her?” Sofia raised her eyebrows.

“I’m sure he doesn’t Derek likes to tease and get under your skin,” Elle rolled her eyes.

“Whatever you say, princess.”

“I hope you don’t mind meeting a couple of my friends.. you’ve kind of already met Em but she and JJ will be out in a minute,” Elle held both sides of her arms gently.

“Of course I don’t mind I’m happy you want me to meet them love,” Sofia rested her hand on Elle’s hip. Since she was in heels she was a couple of inches taller than Elle despite Elle’s small heel on her boots so she had to lean down slightly to kiss her.

Their kiss ended when they heard Emily clear her throat behind them. Elle turned around a pink hue covering her cheeks while Sofia slipped her hand inside Elle’s not wanting their physical contact to be over.

“Nice to see you again Sofia coincidently it’s the same way I saw you both last time,” the raven-haired woman laughed.

“Hi Emily, sorry about that she’s irresistible though,” Sofia ran her other hand down the length of Elle’s back, “You must be JJ, Elle’s told me so much about you. You’re gorgeous,” Sofia turned her attention to the shorter woman standing beside Emily.

“Oh I’m sure she has,” Derek winked earning a confused look from Emily between them all.

“Ignore him, Bye Derek. We will see you tomorrow,” Elle crossed her arms holding a glaring eye contact with him until he finally decided to say his goodbyes and leave.

They both stood in silence for a couple of minutes before JJ spoke up, “How long have you and Elle been together?”

“A couple of months? I honestly forget it feels like forever.”

“We should do a double date, I’d love to get to know you better Sofia but I’m sure you’d both like to be getting home now and I know Emily and I want to as well,” JJ smiled.

“Yeah sounds good, I’m sure Elle will arrange something, right baby?”

“Yeah, we can text, have a good night,” Elle hugged them both.

“Oh we definitely will,” Emily winked at her causing them all to laugh before she and JJ left to go to their car.

Sofia slid her hand into Elle’s back pocket as the older woman leaned against the car with her back arched a little.

“What was with the meet and greet?” Sofia laughed kissing the tip of Elle’s nose.

“You make me happy and they started assuming I had a boyfriend so I thought it was time to come clean.. speak my truth,” Elle laughed.

“You a boyfriend? No chance. Speaking of, Derek, is he telling the truth does Spencer have a thing for you?”

“No, I’m certain he likes JJ. But you’ve got nothing to worry about you’re all I have ever wanted,” Elle pressed her lips against the blonde.

“And you and JJ have clearly hooked up nice to know your type,” Sofia said opening the passenger door for Elle.

Elle gasped, “We did not hook up! We kissed once never spoke of it again. Also I don’t have a type especially based on hair colour I’m not a serial killer but I suppose I have a thing for feminine women,” she placed her hand on Sofia’s thigh as she started up the car.

“Elle,” Sofia paused, “I love you,” she met Elle’s beautiful chocolate brown eyes with her own ocean-coloured ones.

Elles face softened and her smile grew wide, “I love you too Sof.”

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thewinter-eden · 1 month ago

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Blood Sugar Virus (44)

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Genre: Horror, zombies, strangers to lovers, angst, suspense, slow burn Pairing: Kang Yeosang x female!reader Warnings: based on the Wanteez Zombie episode, it's almost over

Story Summary: You (stage name Sugar) are the co-captain of a horror acting group. You and your guys are the ones the companies hire when they want to stage a zombie, ghost, or any vaguely horrific and dystopian episode. So when you get hired by Ateez to develop a zombie program, it's just another routine that you've done a million times. Everything's going exactly according to script--until suddenly it isn't, and it starts getting a little too real.

🏆 Esteemed Moot: @ramadiiiisme

⭐️ Reader Spotlight: @mrsminseochoi

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The schoolyard is utter chaos. The enlisted men, barely trained for anything beyond fire watch and marching, have fallen to the few parasites that escaped the burning building. In the mere moments since they were first attacked, the transformation from human to monster has already started.

What was once the disorganized rush of soldiers doing their best to follow orders and manage the uncontrollable blaze of the high school is now a staggering, snarling hoard of hijacked human vehicles.

The screams have stopped.

The radios are silent.

“What the hell is happening out there?” One of the soldiers behind your group asks. “What is that? It sounds like wild animals out there.”

“Is that the guys?” Another questions, voice edged with fear “Why do they sound like that?”

Ignoring the confusion of the two soldiers who had laid hands on San and Yunho, you lower yourself into the dirt between Seonghwa and Yeosang and try to take the weight off your throbbing hip.

“How have they turned already?” You hear yourself asking, glancing to where you left Jimin. If the transformation had been so quick back in the school, he would have been long gone.

Even Mingi would have turned in such a short amount of time.

“When we were still playing the game, back in one of the classrooms, San and I gave two of them the cure. Jungkook and Jennie, I think?” Yunho pauses as San confirms his memory, and then continues. “They changed in less than five minutes. It was so fast—”

“Jungkook had already been given the specimens,” you remind him. “The documents from the control room said he was already part of the parasite group.”

“But Jennie wasn’t.” Yunho says. “Jennie was supposed to be in the anti-parasitic group. She only turned because of the specimens they’d put in the cure bottles. And she turned before Jungkook did.”

You’re not a scientist. You’re not an expert on any of this, not even in the slightest, but the only thing you can think is that delivering the eggs so close to the center of their bodies is what allowed the parasites to take control of the human nervous system so quickly.

Jimin had been stung in the leg.

So had Mingi, and Rosé.

The parasites had had to eat their way up the body to be able to take control.

It’s the only thing you can think of.

And from the way you’d seen the wasps jump, leaping so high into the air to attack you and the others, you can only assume that they came flying at the soldiers and stung them at higher points than their legs.

Maybe they’d latched onto their stomachs. Maybe their chests. Maybe their throats or faces.

The distance between the school they’d escaped from and the soldiers they’d been attacking was so great it might have given them the space to take bigger leaps, while the hallways and classrooms you’d been attacked in had been narrow and cramped.

If they’d leapt at you like that, you would have been utterly overtaken. Your flimsy paper armor couldn’t have saved you.

Either way, any explanation of the events is irrelevant. It doesn’t have to make sense or be answered—they’ve already turned.

Whether you understand how or not, it’s too late for them.

“This is insane.” Hongjoong whispers. “I mean, we couldn’t kill all of them on 3, but we thought trapping them would be enough—and when you lit the fire we thought they’d all die. Shouldn’t they all have died?”

“So much for your flame thrower idea.” Yeosang remarks to you.

So much for your flame thrower idea.

“Holy shit.” Hajoon says softly, still watching the scene through the scope of his rifle. “I thought you were fucking with us. You actually meant zombies.”

Somebody in your group snorts derisively. “Yeah, because we thought it was the perfect time to pull a prank on a couple of Black Berets.” Wooyoung.

“Actual zombies?” One of the soldiers repeats. “They’re actual zombies? There’s no way. That’s not real.”

“Why don’t you go out there and tell them that?” Hongjoong snaps.

“All units report, what’s happening out there?” Somebody asks over the radio. “All units, report.”

No one answers.

Apart from the Black Berets and the men who had been forcibly diverted from pursuing you, there’s no one left to answer.

There are only the hungry growls of the zombies in the yard.

“Well, fuck, now they’re armed.” Mingi mutters.

“Pretty sure they don’t know how to use guns anymore.” Yunho responds flatly.

“Rose Team, report.”

None of the men now guarding you reach for their radios.

From their position just inside the tree line, the enlisted soldiers are talking, horrified by the scene before them, the entire line humming with uneasy chatter, but they don’t respond to the officers’ orders.

Woosung and Dojoon keep them quiet as they watch. The men are rigid with fear, fighting visible impulses to run away from what’s happening, but the Black Berets manage to keep them in line with quiet reprimands, maintaining a sense of calm and control that slowly seeps into the inexperienced soldiers.

“What are they like?” Hajoon asks. “What do we know?”

He’s talking to your group, the people who have been in the middle of the chaos, looking for information that you know better than anyone.

Your instincts to jump in and take control of the situation have dampened considerably over the course of the evening, but part of you still feels called to rise to duty.

Pushing yourself to your knees, you creep closer to the operator. “They don’t see very well unless you’re moving.” You say. “But they pick up on sounds. If things are quiet for long enough, they’ll go into a kind of dormant state. If there’s nothing to chase, they just wander blindly.”

Someone moves next to you, and a hand lands warmly on your back. You know it’s Yeosang. He scoots himself to sit next to you, like if he’s not there to stop you, you’ll grab a gun and join their ranks.

His scent is unmistakably familiar to you now, body heat and the faint traces of his laundry detergent, subtle hints of his cologne still present through the perspiration that’s melted most of it away.

“And if they’re chasing you? What’s the drive?”

Your hand finds Yeosang’s arm, sliding up to rest reassuringly on his shoulder. You’re not going anywhere. You’re not jumping into the fight with this army who can either take care of themselves or pay for the crime of forcing you into this situation in the first place.

Lifting your voice only just enough to be heard, you think your way through the experiences you’ve suffered tonight. “To eat. The men are hosts to juvenile parasites now. They take control of you to make you provide them with food until they’re grown enough to eat through the hosts and look for environments in which to lay their own eggs. The cycle repeats. If you kill the host, the parasite escapes to find another. You have to kill the wasps.”

Hajoon shakes his head in disbelief. “What unholy fuckery…”

You’ve never agreed with any sentiment more.

Out in the clearing, the zombies are moving, spurred into action by the roaring of the fire, but with no prey to chase, they only charge around the yard, shoving into each other, tumbling over bodies, shrieking wildly. Some of them charge towards the flames, only to shirk back violently at the heat and redirect the stampede back the way they had come.

Only a relatively small number of them had turned, the rest having attacked and overtaken the rest of the soldiers who stood no chance against their own friends being overwhelmed with ravenous violence.

“I’m seeing insects,” Dojoon’s voice comes over Hajoon’s radio.

You startle at the sound, falling back into the dirt against Yeosang. He stabilizes you, pulling you to his side before you can fall into the leaves.

“What is he doing?” Hongjoong hisses frantically. “The officers will hear!”

“We’ve switched to an encrypted channel.” Hajoon reassures him, and you realize the voice hadn’t come through the radios that the enlisted soldiers carry. “It’s just us.”

“They’re headed this way—fleeing the fire.”

“I count twelve,” Woosung’s voice responds. “Are we shooting these fuckers, or what?”

Mind racing through the possibilities brought on by opening fire on the scrambling insects, you hear your heart pounding frantically in your ears. “No,” you whisper. “They’ll draw them right to us.”

Hajoon lifts his radio to his mouth. “The gunfire will draw the zombies. If we open fire on the wasps, we’ll be shooting men next.”

“There are fifty soldiers between us and them.” Yeosang murmurs to you reassuringly. “We’ll be okay.”

“The same soldiers who shot Namjoon? Against their orders?”

He doesn’t have an answer for you.

“Is there any coming back for these guys?” Woosung asks.

Hajoon turns to you.

“They’re being eaten alive.” You tell him carefully. You remember Jin, attacking you with no traces of the man he used to be. And Taehyung, attacking Wooyoung within moments of being turned. And Rosé turning on Yeosang in the mere moments between you leaving the room and coming back to find her gone. “By now there’s nothing left of them.”

He takes your word for it. “No. They’re gone.”

“We know that for sure?”

You don’t know anything for sure. You don’t know anything except that by the time the parasites come out of them, the hosts are nothing but empty husks. “Nothing we did brought anybody back at this point.” That’s all you know. “And nothing in the documentation we found suggested that anybody out there knew how to save them either.”

“Who would do this?” The soldier behind you asks. “Who would set up an operation like this?”

“The same people who brought you out here and told you not to defend yourselves, even though they knew the danger.” You return sharply. “Your officers don’t give a shit about you or any of the rest of us.”

“As sure as we can be.” Hajoon says into his radio. He doesn’t pay any attention to the malice stirring behind him, certain enough that his presence will keep any sort of fight from breaking out.

The soldiers are scared.

They’ve abandoned the orders of their commanding officers.

They’re standing with you, albeit with some resentment, instead of dragging you to the commanders.

“Then we’re shooting these fuckers.” Woosung says. “Everybody hold fire. Dojoon and I will handle this.”

You sink into Yeosang’s hold, forcing yourself to focus on the heat of him against you, the solid weight of him keeping you close. It’s about to be an explosion of gunfire and rampaging zombies, and all you can do is sit in the dirt and hope you don’t end up like the ones who fell.

Praying you don’t end up like Namjoon.

Praying you’re not about to witness another bloodbath.

“This is hell.” Jongho mutters. “I’m in hell.”

“God, my leg.” Mingi grumbles. “It’s twisted, can someone help me move it?”

“I got you.” Jimin says softly, and you see shadows in the dark as he reaches over to pull at Mingi’s leg by the knee. “Is that better?”

“Yeah.” Mingi grunts. “God, can we find a shower before we flee the country?”

Wooyoung snickers. “There were showers in the school. We thought about it, didn’t we, Sugar?”

“Not the time, Woo.” Hongjoong says with a sigh.

“You thought about what?” Yeosang’s arm grips your waist. “In the men’s showers? That locker room in the gym?”

“Relax, hyung, she said no.” Wooyoung says lightly. “She thought it would be unfair, or something.”

“Woo, shut up.” You grumble under your breath. “I don’t think you want to talk about what happened in the locker room.”

Wooyoung goes silent, but Yeosang shifts under you. “Wait, what—”

A gunshot cuts him off, and then another.

You jump, slamming back against the wall of his chest. “Jesus.”

When the shots start popping through the air, you hear the zombies come alive with frenzied vigor. Woosung and Dojoon are firing with quick precision, one sharp pull after another.

The radios of the four enlisted men around you burst with static. “Who’s firing? Who’s out there?”

“All units, report to control.”

“Hold your fire, I repeat, hold your fire.”

“Hold your fire.” San repeats with a huff. “They know their men are dying and they still care about noise.”

The operators don’t stop, shooting straight through the angered orders of the officers, each round drawing the zombies closer and closer to the woods.

“Hold your fire!”

“Stop shooting!”

“Goddammit, lower your weapons!”

The soldiers around you grow more and more uneasy. “We are in so much shit.”

“That’s all of them,” Dojoon’s voice says. “I don’t see any more.”

“All units, prepare to fire on the damn zombies.” Woosung says. “Keep your heads, do not waste ammunition. If you shoot any of us or yourselves, I’ll kill you myself.”

“These guys are crazy.” You hear Yunho whisper. “Who are these people?”

But before they can begin firing on the rapidly approaching hoard, you hear doors slamming. It sounds like it’s coming from the parking lot, and pounding footsteps can be heard slamming towards the schoolyard.

“Hold up, there’s movement to the north.” Woosung says suddenly. “Fuck, there’s more Black Berets out there. What team is that?”

“They’re about to open fire on the zombies.” Dojoon says. “We’re going to be caught in the crossfire. Everybody move back. Get your asses up! Move back!”

The soldiers in the tree line jump to obey, scrambling back into the forest towards you. They’re a mad rush of movement, like mice bolting from danger.

“Hold the line!” Woosung snaps. “Do not break formation. Move back slowly.” He’s practically wrangling cats, trying to keep control of the scattering group of eighteen year olds as they clamber and trip over roots and branches in a panic.

Gunfire starts like an explosion.

“It’s okay.” Yeosang whispers, and you realize you’re scrambling backwards at the onslaught, frantically responding to the anxious movements of the troops. “It’s alright, we’re okay.” He’s watching Hajoon, waiting for an order to move, and until it comes he’s tugging you into his arms. “It’s okay, they’ve got us.”

“They’ve got us?” Sam hisses. “They don’t know us. They don’t care about us.”

“But they’ll protect themselves.” Yeosang returns sharply. “And if they protect themselves, then we’re safe back here. Calm down. We’ll be okay.”

From where you sit, the sudden rush of gunfire sounds like an entire army, and the hoard careens away from the forest to charge towards the new group of special forces operators.

“They’re turning away!” The soldiers behind you say. “They’re drawing them away.”

“Hell yeah, Black Berets!”

“Shit, we’re saved. They’ve got them.”

You’re not so sure, especially based on the way Hajoon edges back towards your group.

“Fuck, they’re fast.” Woosung mutters. “They’re not going down.”

“I see headshots taking them out.” Dojoon responds. “But they’re moving too fast. Shit, those guys are about to be overtaken.”

Whoever the new group of operators out there are, they’re walking into the hoard, trying to shoot them down instead of firing from a position of cover. They’re charging straight into a hoard of rampaging zombies as though they don’t know the power of their enemy.

Your mind keeps flashing back to the Fever Times in the hallway, imagining trying to take them head on, and your heart sinks. “No, they’re strong,” you say out loud. “Stronger than people, they’re like animals.”

“Shit.” Hajoon mutters.

The shots keep exploding, cracking like fireworks through the charging stampede, but they don’t stop them all in time.

You can see zombies falling, but you see them slamming into the operators, too.

“Dammit, they’re taking them out.” Dojoon says. “Do we cover them?”

“Not without giving up our position.” Woosung returns. “I’m not giving ourselves up until we know what the plan for the civilians is.”

This surprises you. You’d expected them to jump in and provide cover fire, to assume a role of overwatch and defend their troops, but they hold back.

“They’re not going to help?” One of the soldiers guarding you asks. “Those are our guys out there—they can’t just let them die!”

“Those guys came out of the mobile command.” Hajoon returns sharply. “That means they were in there with the officers, fully aware of all the shit going down tonight. The zombies, the parasites, trapping civilians inside a building full of those things —if we give up our position to them, they’ll make all of us disappear. Look at what’s happening out there. You think they’re going to let the public know about this? You think they’re going to let people know this was a deliberate operation on domestic soil? If you want to live, shut up.”

The soldiers fall silent.

All you can hear is the cracking of bullets, the shouts of the operators out there finding themselves woefully unprepared for their enemy.

“It’s not gonna work.” You breathe. “They’re being attacked.” You can’t see much from your vantage point, but you can hear them. They’re shouting, screaming, the trained control of their hollered orders turning into cries of pain.

“Think about something else.” Yeosang turns you away from the yard. “We can’t do anything. We can’t run. We can’t fight. Just think about something else.” His hands drag through you hair. “You’re not breathing.”

You suck in a ragged breath. “We’re gonna die out here.”

“No.” His brow falls against yours. “No, we’re not. We’re going to let them deal with this, and we’re going to walk away. Okay?”

“Think about the first thing you’re going to do when this is over.” Seonghwa crowds in from your other side. “We can all go out for food and drinks and laugh about this until it’s a drunken memory.”

You won’t be laughing. You won’t be thinking back on the family you lost and pretending it was all just another bad program.

“We’ll get steak and chicken,” Hongjoong whispers. “God, I’d kill for grilled meat right now. Just imagine—San will take one drink and pass right out. We’ll have to carry him home.”

“I am not that bad.” San says from somewhere behind you. “Jongho is the one who keeps filling my glass—”

“Yeah, for real, I don’t go drinking with Jongho anymore.” Mingi grumbles. “It’s like his sadistic pleasure to get us drunk.”

“It’s not my fault you guys are lightweights.” Jongho returns. “You’re just more fun when you’re drunk.”

“I resent that predatory remark.” San says. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

Yeosang’s voice lowers so only you can hear. “Maybe we’ll have to pick a different spot than Jeju. Maybe we’ll go to Paris. Or we can go to Egypt. How’s that for a first date? Have any of your other desperate clients taken you to Egypt or Rome for a first date?”

The laughter falls out of you in a puff of air. “You’re thinking about a first date right now?”

“Well, whatever hostel we end up in after this certainly isn’t going to be it. That’s not nearly romantic enough.” His hands run up and down your arms calmly. “What about Cape Town? Or Prague? Or we could go to Santorini and walk on the beaches.”

“Are you serious?” You snort. “We’re freezing to death in the dirt, about to be mauled by zombies, and now you want to delve into expatriate vacation planning?”

“I think Greece would be fun.” He says simply. “I’ve heard their coffee is amazing. Or we could go to Hawaii. Do you like diving?”

Jimin hears that, and laughs. “Sorry, bud, your girl doesn’t do the ocean. She watched Soul Surfer and the Titanic and swore off oceans forever.”

Yeosang laughs gently against you. “So no Vienna, then? How about rivers?”

You let yourself fall into the distraction he offers. “As long as we’re looking at the ocean and not swimming in it, I’m happy.”

“Then we’ll do what makes you happy.” His lips land on your cheek and your heart flutters. “We’re gonna have to swing by your place and grab Ponk, she’ll love Austria.”

You can’t believe the conversation you’re having right now, or the butterflies in your stomach that aren’t swayed at all by the war zone out there.

“Ugh, they’re disgusting.” Wooyoung grumbles. “Young love. Absolutely nauseating. Where’s my romantic city excursion?”

“I’ll take you to Rio.” Jimin offers. “How do you feel about the Copacabana?”

“Where Lola lost her mind? No thanks.”

“Alright, group trip to Barcelona then.”

“Now you’re talking.”

“Do you people ever shut up?” One of the soldiers grumbles.

“Do you ever not have a stick up your ass?” Wooyoung snaps back. “All in favor of Barcelona—”

“The hoard is thinning.” Woosung reports. “They’re taking headshots now.”

Hajoon takes a few steps forward, crouching low to see through the branches.

The inane discussion of world travel stops immediately, tense silence falling over your group.

“Zombies are down.” Woosung. “Zombies are down.”

“I’m not seeing any movement.” Dojoon.

When the gunfire stops, there are only two operators still standing. They’re in the middle of a pile of bodies, both zombies and fellow operators, picking through the mess to be sure they didn’t miss anyone.

“Hell yeah, Black Berets.” One of the soldiers cheers again.

“Damn, that’s what I’m gonna be. Fuck infantry.”

After a few minutes, the operators in the yard stop and report through their radios, transmissions that don’t come through the channels that the nearby soldiers are on.

“They’re talking to command.” Woosung says. “We don’t have that channel. Everybody hold steady.”

More doors slam.

“Here come the officers.”

You draw closer to Yeosang, muscles bunching to run, and feel his arms tighten around your waist.

In moments there’s a group of uniformed officers staring out over the desolation. You can see them through the trees, running their hands through their hair and staggering in obvious signs of recognizing that they’ve lost control of their operation.

Their entire platoon of soldiers is either missing or dead, the structure of their ‘controlled experiment’ gone up in literal flames.

“They’re panicking.” Dojoon says.

The officers are shouting, gesturing wildly, issuing orders to the surviving two men, directing them to begin piling up the bodies. Through the trees, you see the operators drop their rifles to hang on their slings and begin dragging fallen soldiers into a heap near the fire.

“They’re going to burn them.” Woosung’s voice utters in realization. “This whole goddamn shit show, and all they care about is covering up the evidence.”

“You think they’ll call in reinforcements?” Dojoon.

“Not likely. They’ve already failed whatever this was supposed to be. Their only hope is to clean up their mess and try not to bring any extra attention to this.” Woosung. “With the danger gone, they’re gonna get rid of the bodies and hope it’s enough.”

“They killed the zombies?” You ask, letting your voice travel to Hajoon. “They’re all dead?”

“All dead.” Hajoon reassures you. “They’re dead.”

Dread fills your gut. “Then the parasites will be coming next.”

< last chapter | masterlist | next chapter >

tag list : @mysterysold @threevracha @igotajuicyass @velvetmoonlght @ramadiiiisme @mrsminseochoi @nightshadeblooming @furfoxsake22 @marvolos @lunaryoongie @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @noukstmblr

#ateez #kang yeosang #yeosang #ateez x reader #kang yeosang x reader #yeosang x reader #horro #zombies #horrorau #zombie au

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fattummyt · 2 months ago

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Bruce Banner (Professor Hulk)/Plus-Sized Brown Woman Reader - Firsts - Ch. 1/4

Bruce was the last to round out my fanfic share poll but revisiting this fic has inspired me to share all 4 chapters!

Summary: A collection of your first times with Bruce Banner (Professor Hulk).

Tags: meet cute, humor, fluff, domestic bliss, strangers to lovers, first time, yearning, short and sweet

Warnings: None! (❁´◡`❁)

Author's Notes: Y/N = Your name. Chapters 1-4 will be posted over the next few days! Chapter 2 contains smut that's probably what everyone is here for and will be up tomorrow!

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Read the whole fic on AO3 here!

Bruce sighed. "Her flight was delayed so she can't answer the phone and…" He lowered his head, shrugging his shoulders a bit. "I just, really miss her." Tapping the laser cutter nervously against the desk. "Ugh. Puppy love. Makes me sick." Tony sneered, fake gagging himself with his finger before Bruce poked him in the side.

Chapter 1: Meet-Cute-ing

You and Bruce met a few months ago during your trip to Japan. You coincidentally crossed paths—not that it was difficult to spot him. He was a giant, green, beast man and was steady followed by a crowd wherever he went. You were convinced the man was in costume but quickly learned that wasn't the case as it soon began to rain and the crowd dispersed. As a thoughtful but pointless gesture of kindness you offered him your Gudetama parasol umbrella, but ended up staying out all night talking.

Your travels in Japan promptly met its end, and when talks of life in the States began, you both soon learned that new jobs would force you both to relocate. You managed to maintain your relationship despite the long distance, and talked every night—Both chronic night owls in an early bird's world.

It was nearing the holidays when you smooth-talked your residency committee into letting you spend December at home. Which isn't in your city, or his state, but that feeling you get whenever you're with Bruce.

He couldn't have been more excited to have you meet everyone. This elusive, often fabled woman (according to Tony) was finally going to meet his ' family'...After your delayed, 1 am flight, of course.

"Laser cutter." Tony called from underneath the suspended Hulk Buster armour.

He jut his hand out, grabbing around aimlessly.

"Bruce. Laser cutter."

After another period of silence, he flailed his hand exaggeratedly.

"Laser cutter, please?"

Fed up, he slapped his hand against the floor, sliding out from under Mach 44's foot and rising to his feet to find Bruce leaned over the desktop computer, completely oblivious to him.

Tony pursed his lips as he quietly strolled, approaching Bruce from behind before promptly shouting. "Robert Banner— if you don't hand me the effing laser cutter!"

Bruce shouted, flinching his shoulders into his neck. "Christ, Tony!" Bruce turned away, rubbing his ears.

"What are you doing that's so damn important that it warrants interrupting repairs?"

"Nothing. I— was just checking my emails really quick."

Tony scoffed, "Nice try. Even in that Hulk body, your ears still twitch when you lie.”

Tony shouldered Bruce in the side, grabbing the computer monitor and facing it toward him. Tony blinked, looking inquisitively up at Bruce.

"Why are you looking at airline arrival schedules?"

"Ugh. Puppy love. Makes me sick." Tony sneered, fake gagging himself with his finger before Bruce poked him in the side.

"Ah—hey!"

"Doesn't feel too good does it?"

"I poked you with a pen. You just poked me with a tool capable of turning my appendix into vinaigrette."

Tony snatched it from his hand, shaking his head as he turned and slid back underneath the Mach 44.

Bruce tiptoed, quickly typing up your flight number before Tony stomped his feet and screamed. "GET. THE HELL. OVER HERE."

Read the fic on AO3! | Read more of my fics on Tumblr | Patreon | Website

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pinkgy · 1 year ago

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72 DEVILS LIST

Since I’ve got a lot of free time, here’s a list of all the 72 devils from the Ars Goetia, and if they have been introduced to the game or not.

Got the information from the most trustworthy source of information ever, Wikipedia, and a page called Occult Encyclopedia.

1. Paimon: Available Noble of Gehenna.

2. Bael: Available Noble of Abyssos

3. Belial: Available Noble of Gehenna

4. Agares: Available Noble/Former King of Niflheim

5. Vassago: Available Noble of Niflheim

6. Valac: Unavailable N/A

7. Marbas: Available Noble of Paradise Lost

8. Valefor: Available Noble of Tartaros

9. Amon: Available Noble of Abyssos

10. Barbatos: Available Noble of Hades

11. Buer: Available Noble of Paradise Lost

12. Guison: Available Nomble of Niflheim

13. Sitri: Available Noble of Gehenna

14. Leraye: Available Noble of Gehenna

15. Beleth: Available Noble of Niflheim

16. Eligos: Available Noble of Tartaros

17. Zepar: Available Noble of Abbadon

18. Botis: Unavailable N/A

19. Purson: Unavailable N/A

20. Asmodeus: Available King of Abbadon

21. Vine: Unavailable N/A

22. Balam: Unavailable N/A

23. Zagan: Available Noble of Gehenna

24. Amdusias: Unavailable N/A

25. Bathin: Available Noble of Niflheim

26. Saleos: Unavailable N/A

27. Aim: Unavailable N/A

28. Buné: Unavailable N/A

29. Berith: Unavailable N/A

30. Astaroth: Available Noble of Gehenna

31. Focalor: Unavailable N/A

32. Vepar: Unavailable N/A

33. Vual: Unavailable N/A

34. Crocell: Unavailable N/A

35. Allocer: Unavailable N/A

36. Murmur: Unavailable N/A

37. Gremory: Unavailable N/A

38. Vapula: Unavailable N/A

39. Flauros: Unavailable N/A

40. Dantalian: Available Noble of Abaddon

41. Ipos: Unavailable N/A

42. Gaap: Unavailable N/A

43. Stolas: Available Noble of Abyssos

44. Orobas: Unavailable N/A

45. Seir: Unavailable N/A (But he appeared on the game)

46. Gamigin: Available Noble of Paradise Lost

47. Naberius: Available Noble of Abyssos

48. Ronové: Available Noble of Abaddon

49. Forneus: Unavailable N/A

50. Marchosias: Unavailable N/A

51. Phenix: Available Noble of Abaddon

52. Sabnock: Unavailable N/A

53. Shax: Unavailable N/A

54. Orias: Available Noble of Hades

55. Andras: Unavailable N/A

56. Andrealphus: Available Noble of Niflheim

57. Kimaris: Unavailable N/A

58. Decarabia: Unavailable N/A

59. Furfur: Unavailable N/A

60. Malthus: Unavailable N/A

61. Raum: Unavailable N/A

62. Bifrons: Unavailable N/A

63. Andromallus: Unavailable N/A

64. Furcas: Unavailable N/A

65. Morax: Available Noble of Paradise Lost

66. Glasyalabolas: Available Noble of Hades

67. Foras: Available Noble of Hades

68. Malphas: Unavailable N/A

69. Haagenti: Unavailable N/A

70. Camio: Unavailable N/A

71. Amy: Available Noble of Gehenna

72. Ose: Unavailable N/A

Extra

7(?): Kesi: Available Noble of Tartaros

If the game decides to include in the game all of the 72 devils, which I highly doubt, we already know 33 of them.

Now I'm gonna answer some possible doubts.

Why is Asmodeus in the list of the 72 devils? I have no idea, I promise that I'm going to investigate that further and then I'll edit this post.

Why isn't the list organized? This is more of a quick list just to keep track of the demons we have available in the game and the ones we don't, I know they have an order and are even organized by rank, maybe in the future I'll make the list well, but it serves its purpose at least!

Those are not their names in the Ars Goetia! I know, i put in this list the names they used in the game (Only for the available ones) and some of them have many variations of their names, Prettybusy with some of the nobles used names that are not how some are used to call them for the game (I used the word "Name" too much in a single sentence)

Where is Bimet? Bimet is either Vine or Bune, but I'm still not sure.

I'll try to update this post as we get more of the 72 devils.

#whb #prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?#what in “hell” is bad?

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megumimania · 1 year ago

Text

4:44 — patrick zweig

synopsis: after publicly embarrassing you and your marriage being at deaths door, patrick shows up offering much more than you bargained for.

warnings: angst, smut (17+), patrick is messy as fuck (figuratively and literally) ,cheating, brief mentions of art and tashi.

a/n: finally wrote something for patrick and of course it got a bit nasty and angsty lmao.

he never meant for you to find out like this.

finding out along with the rest of the world that he was cheating on you was something you didn’t expect to wake up to.

patrick knew of the humiliation and embarrassment that you were going to be subjected to as a result of the leaked paparazzi pics that showed him getting hot and heavy with tashi duncan, an old flame that never really died down. even though he reassured you otherwise.

the media never really left you alone at that point. your simple wish of privacy being disrespected at every turn you take. running simple errands were a thing of a past as you couldn’t escape the barrage of questions being asked as you put your shopping cart away.

‘mrs zweig, is it true that you’re divorcing your husband?’

“mrs zweig, how do you feel about the cheating allegations? do you forgive your husband?”

“mrs zweig, reports say that you engaged in a months long affair with art donaldson, is that true?”

the questions were obviously asked to get a rise out of you and despised it. using your marital issues to sell a quick buck was so low blow. a part of you wished they would fuck off somewhere else,hoping that there would be some new drama that they would fixate on and leave you alone.

thankfully they did, a random celebrity’s pregnancy announcement being enough to distract the public from the turmoil that was your life. you were so relived, finally being able to fade back into obscurity. however, whilst everyone managed to move on like the internet does, patrick was terribly relentless.

patrick kept trying to make up for it, buying you luxury bags and designer goods at your request as if that would heal the heartbreak and embarrassment that you were experiencing. it was a pathetic display of forgiveness and it hurt how litle effort he put in trying to salvage this marriage.

couples therapy was a miss, the both of you being ego driven and stubborn meant that it was like pulling teeth to get any of you to try and take some accountability for the roles each of you played in this marriage.

you weren't delusional, you knew that you weren't perfect and that your marriage with patrick shared the same fate. however in comparison to his infidelity, your supposed issues with control and jealousy seemed minor in the grand scheme of things.

with all avenues exhausted, you decided to push for a divorce much to patrick's dismay. his refusal to sign the papers pissed you off.

why did he have to make everything so difficult?

you thought that some distance would do the trick. so for the past month you've been staying at a fancy hotel in the midst of packing up your whole life to move back to the west coast where your life has always been.

as you were preparing to wind down for the evening, you heard a knock on the door. you quickly shrugged on your robe and your slippers and opened the door to find him of all people standing there.

his eyes looking somewhat ashamed and embarrassed and for the first time the mighty indomitable patrick zweig, looks as small as ever.

“why are you here?” you ask him the million dollar question, the one he cannot answer.

you dont even know why you step aside to let him in. maybe it's the newfound loneliness that makes it harder to maintain that degree of impassiveness towards him. with patrick standing before you in your hotel room you're forced to acknowledge his presence.

he hands you a bottle of wine with an intention to share it between you both and you oblige. he pulls out two glasses for you both as he pours the wine into your glass first and then into his. you watch how his freckled hand smoothly pours the wine into the glass without any spillage.

you dont even know why you listen to him talk, as if you'd get something reasonable from him but you know he's full of bullshit. when you ask why? with a lump forming in your throat. he stands there aimless, the words falling dry on his tongue. looking at you as if the answers written on your forehead.

yet it isn't enough to fully squash your want for him. so when he does lean in to kiss you, you let him. the kiss is short but weighted, his apology being interwoven into every kiss. the several glasses of wine in your systems has you both feeling some type of way.

“should we even be doing this?” his voice seems worlds away when it’s buried in the crook of your neck. his hands roam around your waist in a tentative manner, unsure whether he's doing the right thing but when you place his hands firmly on your waist, he feels his heart race.

“i won’t say anything if you don’t.” the go ahead you’ve given him turns him into a madman, with clothes being haphazardly strewn across the hotel room. he can't get enough of you. his hands wanting to leave a mark on every single part of your body making you groan in pleasure.

patrick fucks like a man starved.

your legs rest on his shoulders as he buries his face into your wet cunt, lapping up the juices with his tongue. the lewd slurping and sucking sounds as well as the way his nose bumps against your clit has you grinding into his face. god he missed this, missed you.

“patrick im so close…” you mewl as you grip onto his messy curls. he ignores your warning continuing to devour your pussy without a care in the world. your vision swims and your toes curl as you’re on the brink of coming undone. patrick knows this and like the asshole he is he will not stop until you're a whining mess.

he lets out a low groan becoming drunk on your pussy, his eyes half lidded and filled with lust. “missed your pretty pussy, fake ones didn’t hit the same.” he murmured. eating you out was his favourite past time if he could say so himself. patrick ignores your pleas, making direct eye contact with you as he spits onto your cunt smearing it all across your puffy folds.

“fuck... patrick!” you cry out as your vision goes white and your body goes limp. he comes up a few seconds later, his lips coated in your slick as he pulls you into a sloppy kiss where you can faintly taste yourself on his tongue. his teeth lightly grazing your lower lip makes you pause for a second when you realise the bastard was fucking smiling.

“what's so funny?" you cock a brow at him and he laughs again even harder this time, before dismissing your concern with a wave of his hand. "can’t a man enjoy his last fuck with his soon to be ex-wife?” he grins like the arrogant fuck he is, the vitriol that threatens to leave your mouth is quickly silenced with a gasp as patrick swiftly enters you.

you both still for a moment, as you try to accommodate each other. it’s been a long time since you’ve slept with someone let alone your husband. you hopelessly grip onto his bicep, your manicured nails leaving red crescent shaped marks on his skin.

finally patrick starts to move, his strokes slow and languid as if he’s trying to savour every moment of this moment with you. he drinks up all the moans and expletives that carelessly leaves your lips as he picks up the pace, slamming into you with a desperate fervour.

the way patrick’s dick kept hitting your g spot was enough for you to start seeing stars, the obscene squelching sounds from your pussy was enough to drive him insane. “baby, please m’gonna—” you whined, feeling your body tense up as you desperately clawed his back.

he was fucking you stupid but you couldn’t complain, he knew your body like back of his hand our mind foggy as all you could focus on was him thrusting in and out of you.

if patrick was able photograph this moment, he would. your fucked out expression, the way your tits bounced with each thrust, the anklet he bought you that was adorned in diamonds sitting pretty on his shoulder. however he knew that this wasn’t something to be commemorated, this was a goodbye.

his hands squeezed your pretty tits, circling your spit covered nipples until they were hardened peaks. “you’re gonna what? i can’t help you if you don’t use your words doll.” he rasped against your ear, biting back the urge to moan after feeling your pussy fluttering around him.

he knew that he was being a bit mean by playing dumb but he didn’t want this to end, so if he had to prolong your orgasm then that was it.

your back arched slightly at the stimulation you were experiencing, making you heady with pleasure. “i-i’m gonna cum patrick.” you admitted, voice strained and tears brimming your eyes as you were soon approaching your climax. “see, now i can help with that.” his hands snake down to your clit rubbing it in circles, only speeding up your orgasm.

your body convulsed as you came all over patrick’s dick, legs still trembling from the after effects of your orgasm. patrick’s release followed shortly after, slumping down beside you with a huff. the two of you stayed like that for a while, your breathing being the only sounds filling the room.

eventually sleep claims you both, his arms snug around your waist providing you more comfort than you anticipated. by the time you wake up its midday and the sunlight is streaming through the curtains.

you get a start on your day, ignoring the way your muscles ache with each turn and the litter of hickeys decorating your neck that are still visible no matter how many times you part your hair in different directions.

days later, patrick finally signs the divorce papers you’ve sent him in the mail. you’re too busy staring at the words on the paper to notice your wedding ring that has rolled out of the envelope.

you hold the ring that now more feels weighted than before, it holds an air of finality toward it that leaves you with a bittersweet feeling, that it was now all finally over.

#vina writes #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig x y/n #challengers x you #challengers x reader #patrick zweig angst #vina writes: misc #challengers x y/n #this was wayyy overdue #shout out to ovulation week for helping me write this smut!#challengers angst

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