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icallhimjoey · 7 months

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Lost & Found

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: You take a little break, a week away to somewhere warm to relax and calm your senses. So does Joe – same flight, same hotel, same travel plans and, worst of all, same suitcase. What was meant to be a lovely trip to the sun starts off on the wrong foot when you find expensive designer outfits belonging to a man in what you thought was your suitcase.

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, lots of swearing, we get a little spicy but nothing too bad, 18+ just in case though!

Author’s note: um little warning, my current state of being is starting to mirror this fic in all the worst ways, so apologies bc this isnt doing my writing any favours (little unfair how it's only the bad things like the lack of sleep and the stress and the hangovers and not the, you know, joe of it all, but, whatever i guess) hope you enjoy!

Wordcount: 3.8K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

So, um... let’s go over this again…

You were in Joe’s hotel room. In his bed. Coffee in hand. He was no longer holding you, wasn't even in the room now, but he had held you. For long. When you were all sweaty and gross, and your heart was beating out of your chest in the dark. He had held you until your breathing turned normal and then he’d very softly moved aside and it was sort of... perfect. Did exactly what it needed to do.

It wasn’t ideal to have someone witness what you were like when a nightmare set your skin on fire and made your blood run cold, but it was nice to not have to deal with it yourself for once. Had you been alone, you’d have gotten up and out of bed. Gone for a shower, maybe. Would’ve gone to sit out on the balcony to watch the sunrise.

This time, it had gone different.

Better.

You'd managed to go back to sleep and get a couple more hours in.

Something unheard of.

Everything was different and better, because Joe had invited you into his hotel room even though you didn’t even really know why you’d walked inside.

Joe did know.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You were stood in the middle of the room as Joe locked the door behind you.

You shook your head.

“I can never sleep.”

Joe's shit was everywhere. Just, all over.

Why were you in his room?

“Insomnia?” Joe asked as he walked around you, grabbed you by the biceps to move you out of the way as he got back to what was obviously his side of the bed, crumpled covers, pillow dented.

“I guess? I don’t know, just... stress, I think.”

“You didn’t have trouble falling asleep earlier,” Joe said all casual, like it was normal to have this conversation in the middle of the night in his room as he climbed back into bed.

He nodded his head to the empty spot next to him and beckoned you with an arm.

What were you doing here?

“You came back for another massage?”

“I came to bring over your jacket.”

“At... at one in the morning.” Joe pointedly said, eyebrows raised up high on his forehead and a smug little smile playing at his lips.

You carefully sat down on Joe’s bed near the end, folded your legs and pretended not to want to get under the covers with him. Joe sat up against the headboard and leant his head back. Tired. Clearly very tired.

“It’s not one in the morning.”

It wasn’t. It had just gone midnight.

“But I wouldn’t mind another massage,” you shrugged as you said it, feigned innocence as you touched a shoulder. “You know, it still hurts a little...”

What were you doing?

Joe didn't move and looked you over all slow, took a moment to think of what to do next.

“Did you eat?”

Ugh, you didn’t need that. Didn’t need him to fret over you not taking care of yourself. He wasn’t your mum.

You were also strangers, still. Let's not forget.

Yes, you were on his bed, and had worn nearly all of his clothes, and he’d sat outside of your bathroom as you showered, and then he’d massaged you to sleep after, but... you were strangers still.

“I didn’t see you downstairs,” Joe clarified after you rolled your eyes. “Or am I wrong to assume you’ve also got a table booked downstairs for the whole week?”

Oh.

Yea, you did.

“I do, but tonight I got room service.”

Why were you there?

“Did you drink?”

“If you count the overpriced corona from the minibar, yes, I had one drink.”

You didn’t know why he was asking the questions he was asking, but it seemed like he was considering something and needed to know. Needed to know all these little bits of information before deciding.

Deciding what?

To get his hands on you?

The silence lingered a bit too long and Joe kept looking at you with his head leant back against the headboard, all half-lidded eyes, mouth in a weirdly charming half-smirk that made you grow self-conscious at a steady incline.

“Sorry, I’ll… maybe I shouldn’t have come, you've got– I gave you the jacket back, I’ll just–” you went get up off the bed, already had one foot touching the carpet, but then Joe leant forward and grabbed what he could.

“No, don’t,” he got you by the wrist.

Don’t what? Get up? Leave? Be awkward?

Well, too late.

You were being awkward as fuck.

You hadn’t walked into Joe’s bedroom to have sex with him. The attention was nice, and you did want him to touch you more. To use his hands. Make your skin tingle underneath his fingers.

“No, don’t,” Joe had said, and you took a second to look at where Joe's fingers wrapped around your wrist. You frowned as you sharply inhaled and answered,

“I don’t... I mean– sorry, I’m not...” you trailed off, unsure of what to say.

Joe scanned your features, then nodded in understanding and said, “Okay,” before moving the covers aside for you to get into bed next to him.

Was all you needed.

“So, stress, huh?” Joe held up covers with two hands and helped as you crawled in.

Were you just... going to sleep? With Joe? In his bed?

Who were you?

“Just, work, you know how it is,” you slid under the covers and were surprised by the warmth you found there. Instant comfort.

Joe moved over to turn off the light and chuckled as he said, “I thought I did, but... I don’t think I do,”

“I’m fine!”

So defensive.

“Clearly.”

Sarcasm.

“I am!”

“Stop biting at your fingers,”

Caught red handed.

Shit.

“Sorry,”

“Don’t apologise,”

“Okay sorry,”

You both huffed breaths through your noses in laughter before silence took over the room.

You were in Joe’s bed, and you weren’t exactly sure why you were in Joe’s bed. But here you were. In Joe’s hotel room and somehow, it was million times better than being in your own hotel room.

It was silent for a second and you weren’t touching each other, but you were close enough to feel Joe’s body heat radiate, that side of your body tangibly warmer.

My God.

You realised you had so much to update your friend on.

How were you ever going to explain what the fuck this day had been - this whole trip had been, so far?

It had all been weird naps followed by weird experiences with Joe followed by weird naps followed by weird experiences with Joe.

What a trip.

“Did you... did you just come over to come stare at this ceiling instead of yours?” Joe whispered after a while.

“I came over to return your jacket,”

You did. You had returned the jacket, hadn’t you?

“Here,” Joe said, and gave you his wrist. He used his fingers to place yours on his pulse point and you felt how his fingertips found yours.

“Feel that?”

His heartbeat. Warm skin. Soft skin. He made you feel his heartbeat as he monitored yours in tandem.

Oh, Jesus. This was intimate.

“Focus on that.”

And so you did. It was steady. Slow. If you didn’t focus on it, you stopped feeling it, would lose it altogether, so you kind of had to pay close attention.

As if on autopilot, your breathing grew just as steady and you couldn't fucking believe it when you realised your eyes were closed. You didn't remember closing them.

You were in Joe's bed, and you were touching hands and wrists, and listened to each other breathe, and felt each other's heartbeat.

You knocked out in no time.

But different surroundings and no alcohol in your blood made your brain do silly things, didn't it?

You dreamed of intruders that you could hear and feel but couldn’t see.

Strange people in your house that were there to harm, who made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as their voices whispered in the wind, and you could sense they were there, you knew they were there, but where could you hide?

You couldn't fucking see anything.

You were alone and it was dark and there was real danger so close to you and everything inside you said run! Hide! Get the fucking fuck away, you dumb bitch!

A touch to your shoulder woke you up in a panic. Sweaty. Panting. Choking on hyperventilating breaths.

And it was dark. And, shut the fuck up, who was shouting?!

Fuck, why couldn’t you see anything?!

“It’s me, it’s me, it’s just me, it’s me,”

Joe had latched onto your back, wrapped arms around and held you tightly. Squeezed the panic right out of you. Whispered right into your ear, soothing shushes followed by reassuring words of being safe, and it was just nightmares, was just thoughts in your mind, and it was just him.

It was just him.

But it didn’t help.

Joe was a stranger and why the fuck were you in his bed again?

Yea, it was just nightmares. Just hallucinations the night plagued you with on the reg. You knew and understood in your mind that you were fine. That you were safe.

But fear didn’t just leave your body so easily.

Fear had a way of grabbing onto you with long fingernails that dug into your flesh and squeezed you until you had to remind your lungs of how to ask for oxygen again.

Breathe.

“Hey, hey, you’re fine, you’re okay, shhh, take deep breaths,”

Easier said than done, you thought.

Joe found your wrist again when your breathing didn’t steady quick enough, and helped you locate his pulse with your thumb.

“You’re fine, you’re fine, shhh, feel my pulse? Match it. Match your breathing, you’re fine. It’s just me. Relax your shoulders, you’re okay.”

And it was so stupid.

So silly.

It fucking worked.

Something about feeling a heartbeat that wasn’t practically vibrating helped.

Helped a lot.

It took a little while for you to fully relax again. To catch your breath. To even consider going back to sleep. Had you been alone, you’d have gotten out of bed to pace the room a second. To have a sip of water and to maybe scroll TikTok for...um, yea, for hours, you couldn't lie.

God.

How fucking embarrassing.

Maybe this was the time to get up and go back to your own room. Coop up inside there for the rest of the trip. Avoid Joe at all costs.

Or, maybe not.

Joe was still hugging and squeezing, had an arm tightly wrapped around your waist and, yea, you felt gross. Damp. Hot and sweaty and sticky and absolutely disgusting.

But you also felt protected. Cared for. All safe and shit.

“Don’t apologise,” Joe suddenly whispered and wasn't that exactly right. You absolutely were about to tell him you were sorry. Sorry for waking him. Sorry for being all wet. Sorry for being there to begin with.

But you were just told to not do that, and so instead brought a finger up to your mouth to bite at the skin there.

“Go back to sleep,”

You felt Joe press his forehead to the back of your neck. Felt how he rubbed his skin against yours like a cat would.

“Can’t, I never can,” you croaked, voice in pain for whatever reason, slightly muffled from the fingers at your mouth.

“Try,” Joe said sleepily as he used the hand that wasn’t holding your wrist to save your other one from being bit at without looking. Brought your hand down to your stomach where he held it in place.

And, fine.

You could try.

You always tried and it never worked, but Joe was holding you with heavy limbs and trying felt like the easiest favour you could do for him right now.

Joe held you for long.

Joe held you until he detected no more tension in your body.

Joe had eased off when he knew for sure you'd fallen asleep again, surprised that it had even worked, happy to have been of help, and gentlemanly enough to then give you space.

Because... what the fuck was he even doing?

Giving a girl his clothes to wear. Making sure she was okay after a miscalculation in energy management. Leaving his jacket after he'd massaged her to sleep in her hotel room. Inviting her in when she knocked on his door in the middle of the night...

What was he even doing?

Yea, what was he doing was the right question.

Made him reflect for a moment in the quiet dark of the early morning, pretty girl next to him now calm and asleep again.

What was he doing.

Helping.

Helping, he decided.

He was just helping. That was all.

Like he helped by not making a huge deal of meeting you in one of his literal outfits. Like he helped by lending you another jacket upstairs at the bar. Like he helped when you'd fainted and you needed to get out of the sun and into the shade.

Getting you upstairs.

Listening as you showered.

Kneading your knotted muscles.

He was just helping.

That was all.

And then Joe helped more when he woke up a little later and made two coffees.

Joe helped more when he slid out onto his balcony for a cigarette, and stayed out there to give you time and space to wake up slowly by yourself without another person in the room.

And Joe helped even more when you peeked your head around the sliding glass door and smiled a squinty smile at him, coffee cup in hand, and he greeted, “Good morning.”.

“Thanks,” was all you said, raising and moving the cup around enough to show Joe that it was empty.

You meant for the coffee. Thanks for the coffee. But also, um, for all the other things.

“You’re welcome,” Joe replied, gave a squinty smile in return.

He meant for the coffee. You’re welcome for the coffee. But also, for all of the other things too.

You awkwardly pointed a thumb over your shoulder, stammered through reasons of why you should be getting back to your own hotel room, to shower, to go have breakfast, to get out of his hair. Before you disappeared back inside, Joe asked, “Have you been down there yet?” and looked out towards where the sand met the still ocean, sun reflecting on the barely-there waves.

You hadn’t.

“Up for a beach day?”

And just like that, the unspoken agreement became that you would just... spend the trip together. Why not, you know? You were both on your own, in similar situations if you squinted, and seemingly enjoyed each other’s company enough to spend it in each other’s vicinity.

Not together together, but together enough.

You didn’t sit down at the same table for breakfast, but sat near each other.

Raised your cup of freshly squeezed orange juice in cheers over the tables in between.

Bit into your croissant as you saw him bite into his and tried to not laugh croissant flakes all over your table-for-one.

Got into the lift together, said, “Meet you in the lobby in 30 minutes?”, then shaved your legs in record time and before you could even think to slow down enough to grow doubtful of your choices, your eyes found Joe in the lobby and he looked... not ready for a beach day, that was for sure.

“Are you... do we have a boardroom meeting first? What’s going– should I get changed?” you poked fun, and thank fuck, Joe immediately matched the playful energy. Went, “What’s wrong with this?” all cartoonish and exaggerated.

“You’re not wearing a black button-down shirt to the bea– a long-sleeved black button-down Dior shirt?”

You gave him a look. Really, Joe? Really?

“I’ve got the sleeves rolled up!” Joe stuck out both arms to display his forearms and... those didn't have the right to look so nice.

“Oh my G– I can’t. Please go wear what you wore yesterday? Or– no, you’ve got that– you brought T-shirts. Wear a T-shirt.”

Joe couldn't fucking believe what he was hearing, mouth slightly agape, pulling into a smile.

“Please go change into a white T-shirt, or even the black one. I’ll wait here.”

Joe chuckled, shook his head and was about to admit defeat and turn back to walk to the lifts, but then he stopped, said, “All right, but you get someone to get a new plaster for your eyebrow,”

Ugh.

“Fine,”

“Fine.”

Two hours later, you found yourself with your feet in the water and sand between your toes, a fresh new way thinner plaster stuck over your eyebrow and Joe right next to you.

In his black T-shirt.

The one that still smelled vaguely of your perfume which Joe only realised when he pulled it over his head earlier.

You were walking and talking and it turned out you’d booked the exact same trip on the exact same website.

Same agency. Same flights. Same hotel. Same dates. Same suitcases.

It was a lot of the same for this one week.

Everything else you could think to talk about? Vastly different.

You lived in opposite ends of London.

Worked in severely different fields, ones where you couldn't even imagine what each other’s day to day looked like.

Liked different music genres. Film genres.

Had different interests. Different hobbies.

Same humour though.

Joe had you giggling the whole time.

And, dared you think it, same love languages.

Joe reached over hands to touch you a lot. Small fleeting little moments, never inappropriate or crossing any boundaries.

You fucking loved it.

You spent time walking the shore, went into the water til it reached your knees for a little bit, and then spent time on sun beds that you had to pay for.

Well.

Sun beds that belonged to a restaurant so they made you order food and drink, which was fine.

Before you could order yourself a cocktail, Joe’d asked for fresh fruit and mocktails.

Mocktails.

When the waiter’d left, you softly scoffed at him.

“We’re in the sun,” Joe reasoned, the image of your face draining of colour before your knees gave out still fresh in his mind from the day before.

“We’re in the sun,” you mocked him, ready to burst into laughter when he would.

But then instead Joe reached over and removed your hand from your mouth, and fuck all the way off, you hadn't even realised you were biting at a nail again.

Ugh.

You groaned, annoyed with yourself, were about to say, why can’t I stop making myself bleed? but were stopped by Joe’s fingers that interlaced with yours.

You looked at the tangle of fingers that rested on his thigh and your vision went a little fuzzy.

“There.” was all Joe said, just helping.

You ate fresh tropical fruits in the sun.

People-watched in the sun.

Drank mocktails in the sun.

You drank expensive juice and then even had some water because you were being all sensible now. Stayed hydrated. Kept food in your system. Were well rested, for once. Held hands with an attractive man. Ate a chunk of pineapple from his fingers.

Handsome man in expensive clothes.

Handsome man who made you laugh a lot.

Handsome man who’d held you through a nightmare comedown.

Handsome man whose nose was starting to burn from the sun a little.

Handsome man who awkwardly said he should probably get out of the sun. Go back to the hotel. He didn’t want to, he was having a great time, but he hadn’t brought sunscreen with him and it was probably best to head back.

You said it was fine, you were kind of ready to head back yourself too.

You didn’t hold hands as you walked back to the hotel together.

You didn’t hold hands as you stepped back into the air-conditioned hotel lobby together.

You didn’t hold hands as you stepped into the lift together, and then you didn’t hold hands as Joe pressed the button for his floor and then didn’t hold hands as you waited until the doors closed.

Joe looked at the buttons.

Then at you.

You hid a smirk.

Joe didn’t catch it and pressed the button for your floor.

Just helping, wasn’t he?

Okay, well... no worries. You just... you just thought that maybe you’d been on the same page, you know? But it was fine. Fine. Okay.

Joe didn’t catch what you were trying to do and it was fine.

Joe had pressed the button to the 11th floor because that was where your room was and he just hadn’t caught on to why you hadn’t pressed it yourself.

Fine.

Joe was just helping. Didn’t see what was going on underneath the surface with you.

Fine.

It was fine. Deep breaths.

But then he did catch it. It took him a second, maybe two, but then he caught it in your reflection. In the way you bit your lips into your mouth and nodded slowly at yourself as you looked down at your feet. It took a moment but then he caught on and... yea. Yea, that could work. Would work. Was going to work. Absolutely. Yes.

Yes.

The lift reached Joe’s floor and you held your breath as the doors opened.

Joe didn’t move.

You thought maybe he didn’t know what to say. How to say goodbye. How to maybe ask you to dinner later.

Joe didn’t move until the doors slowly closed again. You made eye contact in the reflective surface and both let sneaky smirks pull at the corners of your mouths.

Yes.

Good. You were lying before. Nothing was fine. But now it was.

More than fine.

The lift moved again and you saw how Joe’s eyes trailed down the reflection your body ’til they found your hand. You saw how Joe watched his own hand reach for yours.

Soft touches.

Fingers intertwining.

You held hands.

Joe squeezed your fingers and you held hands.

Smiles were no longer hidden. Bashful and blushing, absolutely, but nothing hidden as you held hands.

You held hands as the lift reached your floor.

You held hands as you both stepped out, sand from the beach still in between your toes.

You held hands as you walked down the corridor until you reached your room.

You held hands as you found your keycard to open your door, and then you held hands as you both stepped inside, and then you held hands until the door fell into its lock behind you.

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frogers, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @notverywise, @paola-carter, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #rpf #icallhimjoey #lost & found #lost and found #part four

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viveela · 9 months

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It's almost time for Craig to find out...

Start | Next | Previous

#veearts #south park #sp fanart #tweek tweak #tricia tucker #laura tucker #thomas tucker #pea the parrot #creek comic #lol it seems like I'm lying w that tag now #i swear I'm not #pinky swear #fan comic #wip comic #part four

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abybweisse · 9 days

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Ch211 (p4), Travel-ready

Just like with Baldo's mission with Lau, we are getting a cliffhanger, so hopefully the kids make it to our earl ok....

We go back in time, yet again, to Lau's opium den. This time, it's Sebastian and our earl getting ready to leave on their mission to Brighton. Sebastian's uniform is now clean, so he dons it.

Then Ran-Mao and the other ladies who work there bring in a bunch of clothes ordered by Sebastian. I see a hat box with Lock & Co Hatters on it and several boxes from Nina Hopkins' shop.

Sebastian goes to get his master ready to leave, but our earl doesn't know how to pay the tab to Nina. Sebastian seems confident that our earl will regain his title and funds, then he can pay the bill plus a nice tip.

"Clothes reeking of opium are unbefitting of you." 🙄 😆

Sebastian goes over his master's cover story, for going to the resort hotel, while dressing him.

And emphasizes the importance of Earl Phantomhive being fashionable in bespoke clothing.

Ready for travel... and another turn at chess with his brother.

I'm wondering how on earth they will walk into the hotel controlled (ultimately) by Undertaker and real Ciel... as Earl Phantomhive and his butler. Are they not going incognito this time? A bold chess move, indeed, if they just walk in like this, even if it's run by some random person from the Aurora Society. People will recognize them; there will be talk. There's been front page news about the scandal.

Maybe that's the intention, at this point. But... can they get away with it for long enough before local police or the Yard shows up again?

🤔 Maybe they take on some disguise before they enter the hotel....

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blmpff · 12 days

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✨ Various Tropes: Back Hug (4/?) ✨

TITLES IN ORDER: 1. Addicted (2016) 2. Sodom's Cat (2016) 3. Mood Indigo (2019) 4. History 3: Trapped (2019) 5. Secret Roommate (2020) 6. His (2020) 7. The Tasty Florida (2021) 8. Y Destiny (2021) 9. House of Stars (2023) 10. My Personal Weatherman (2023) 11. Jack o'Frost (2023) 12. For Him (2023)

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artdivadej · 1 year

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Survivor’s Remorse (IV)

Part four

18+ | NSFW

Part 5| Part 6|Part 7

Peeta rolls atop me with his mouth still enclosed around my nipple, moaning lowly around it.

“Spread them pretty thighs for me baby” he moans running his thumb over an old scar on my inner right thigh gently.

My thighs fall open immediately as I am a slave to his every command. My hands are everywhere, wanting to touch all of him that I can as his mouth renders me voiceless. I rub them over and through his curls, whimpering when I feel his left-hand slide down and caress the scar across my stomach before continuing its descent. When his fingers meet my clothed heat Peeta hisses, encasing my hardened bud in a slick cold updraft that makes me gasp.

“Don’t stop” I whisper

Peeta’s lips lay gentle kisses all over my breasts making me twitch and gasp beneath his suckling lips as he continued his exploration. When he reaches my scar, Peeta scoots down the mattress, his liquid amber eyes burning as they sweep up to hold mine. I want to cover my face but his look holds me in place. The tip of his tongue dips over his bottom lip agonizingly slow until it reaches my heated skin. By now I’m twitching beneath him with need. His eyes never leave mine as he gives a soft suck to the raised skin that makes me practically sing. His mouth is so hot as he lays kisses across the skin in between leaving his soft suckles. It feels so good but I want his mouth lower. I push my hips up with a whimper garnering his attention.

“What’s wrong baby?” he breathed happily at my neediness, his warm breath fanning the seat of my panties “Ah!” I gasp trying to think straight “Hmm, is this it?” he feigns innocence before covering my pussy with his mouth, flicking his tongue against my already throbbing clothed clit “Is this what you want love?” “Yes!”

My nails are in his hair, fighting the need to push him deeper into my pussy while he teases me.

“Let me hear it baby”, Peeta hums slipping his tongue under the seat of my panties

My legs stiffen as if I’d been electrocuted and my tongue is frozen.

“Say it” he hums using his left index finger to pull the seat to the side where he buries his nose in the curls at the apex of my thighs. “Peeta please. Your mouth. Taste me please!” I whine loudly rolling my hips to entice him further.

His pupils dilate and I think I’ve won.

“That’s my girl” he moans

He locks his arms around my thighs before dragging me off the bed with him as he sits back on his knees. Mine now rest over his shoulders, his large hands palming my ass as he wraps his lips around my clit. Oh this is embarrassing. Yet I can’t tear my eyes away, my hands still wrapped in his curls.

“Watch” he rumbles with my juices already on his lips and cheeks.

I watch as he trails his tongue from my clit to my dripping hole. Peeta slowly slides his tongue deep within me, his lids lowering, humming as he lapped at my arousal. I can’t help but to let my hands tug and massage at his hair as he delves deeper, his left thumb circling my clit, that is still slick from his initial kiss.

“You taste so sweet love” he hums making his tongue vibrate deep inside me. “Peeta!” I tug at his hair “That’s right. Get wet as you want for me. Let go” he sighs sucking along each of my lips with his eyes closed

When his mouth gives my clit a tender suckling kiss, I am almost undone. My breath catches as my grip in his curls tighten. But he does it over. And over. And over again. My hips jerk with each kiss and my temperature skyrockets, a thin sheen of sweat now enveloping my skin.

“Peeta” I whimper “I’m gonna cum!” “Go ahead love. Let me taste you. I want every drop” he groaned dreamily as I shook in his hold

He wraps his lips around my clit and rolls his slick tongue against the most sensitive part and I am undone. My free hand slides down my stomach to thread my fingers through his at my waist. He happily takes it.

“Peeta I’m cumming!” I sing

My entire body trembles, my hips trying to spasm out of control but stay held fast in Peeta’s secure lock hold. I lose all sense of sound. Of reason. Of nothing except where his mouth is sucking insistently to claim his prize. My body is all too happy to give it as I explode from the inside out. All the way from my clit to my roots and down to the tips of my toes.

I’m trying to understand what I’m saying as I cry out and croon but all I can think is Peeta’s mouth on me. Peeta watching me as I become a lewd mess beneath his hot mouth and hands. Oh his eyes. He finally has mercy and releases my clit, now swollen and sensitive as he gently lowers me to the mattress. He’s sitting back on his knees again just watching me writhe, a mess of rattled and sparking nerves that seem to have no end because of his touch, his hand stroking his length as he watches.

“You are so beautiful baby” he moans, bringing my fingers that are still threaded in his to his slick lips as he continues to stroke himself and it makes me blush.

That’s not fair. I want to touch him too. But more than anything, I need him inside me.

“Did you know that you purr baby?” he smirks before I attempt to do it and realize it comes naturally with my titillated body still singing.

Peeta’s brows furrow, his mouth twisting with pleasure when I rub my thumb over his weeping tip. I like how he shivers as if he’d gotten a jolt of electricity through his spine. To see him come apart beneath my hands.

I remember doing this once on the train.

“Peeta, I want you” I plead rolling my hips as I stroke him

My thumb is the only finger on the underside of his base but I am fully palming his thick shaft, with a little difficulty, making a firm snaking stroke as my thumb rolls over his tip.

“Fuck baby, you can have me” he moans throwing his head back as I repeat the process, using his precum and mine to moisten his thick shaft. “Inside me Peeta. I want you” “I’d love nothing more” he moans lowering to kiss me again.

I love his lips. His bottom is so plump and perfect to suck on. Soft and sweet like honey and marshmallows.

“Are you sure?” he rumbles as his breath comes out in heavy pants “Always” I croon “If I hurt you, scare you or you just change your mind tell me, ok? We’ll stop. I promise” he reassures me “I will. I promise” I nod sliding my hips down so his tip rubs against me making me whine.

He moans and it makes me relax a little as his face tucks into my neck. His hand grips beneath my thigh and he pulls me closer so his tip is nestled right against my slick lips. Oh I want all of him. Peeta please!

When he adjusts his hips Peeta gently prods at my entrance, slowly slipping his tip within me. I can’t help the gasp that constricts my throat. He’s so thick he’s filling me to the brim before he’s even truly in me. He wouldn’t hurt me, would he? A wave of fear rips through me and I whimper softly trying to fight to haze. Peeta’s eye are quickly on mine as he rips his face from my throat, his body still as stone.

“Talk to me baby” he whispers against my lips as his eyes search mine imploringly

My sweet Peeta.

“Mean Peeta” I whisper not wanting to wound him

I didn’t see him that way right now but my memories...he didn’t look at me.

“How can I fix it baby?” “Look at me?” I plead “And don’t let go”

I trail the nails of my right hand up his arm and thread them through his, giving it a squeeze so he understood.

“Never” he affirms tightening his grip as his right-hand cups my neck, thumb caressing my cheek. “Can you relax for me pretty girl?”

Oh I liked when he talked to me like this. Peeta was so verbal about his thoughts when it came to his affections for me after he’d admitted it on stage. It always incapacitated any logical functions my brain had, stilling my tongue. Maybe it was because he figured, fuck it. He was a boy who’d never been able to tell the girl he loved how he felt and then they were thrown in a fight to the death, royal rumble style, together.

Might as well say what he'd always wanted to while he could right? Except he didn’t die. I refused to let him. My goal was to get him out from the jump so now, here we were. Now he could sing every limerick he’d ever dreamed for me because he was alive. We were alive and he had me. Here in his arms.

If I thought I could fall no deeper in love with the man above me I couldn’t be more wrong. My body dips as I relax with his eyes reminding me just how much he adores me. Peeta Mellark is truly perfection.

“Just like that baby” he moans against my lips slipping deeper within me feeling me loosen around him

I can’t muster words any words, gasping for all the air he seemed hellbent on snatching from me, squeezing his warm fingers as they remind me that he’s always here for me. His lips capture mine as he slides deeper and I feel so full. It hurts a little but I’ve been through much worse.

“You’re doing so good baby” he moans as he suckles my tongue “I’m halfway there. You’re swallowing me up so good”

Halfway? God how was I going to fit all of him inside me? My body quakes as his right hand rolls my nipples between his fingers making me clench down on him in response.

“That feel good beautiful?” he groans as he pulsates within me. Shit. There was no way he could get bigger. Oh God. “Mmmhmm you feel me sweetness. I know you can take me more of me. Open up for me beautiful. Give me all of you”

His words unwind every muscle in my frame so my legs fall open wider. I’m tilting my pelvis to take in more of him, making my pussy drip for him as he showers me with praise.

Oh my sweet Peeta.

“Peeta ah!” I gasped as he slips in to the hilt and I feel his curls against mine.

“Oh fuck!” he hisses stilling his hips for a minute “You did so good love. I’m in. Can you feel me?” he hums rolling his tongue over my bottom lip as his eyes melt my nerves into butter. “Oh yes Peeta” I sigh clenching down on him as I squeeze his fingers again “Tell me when you’re ready ok? I won’t move until you are” he asserts as he pecks my cheeks and lips

I nod, sliding my hand through his hair to rest in the curls the nape of it, pulling him down so his chest is to mine and kiss him deeply. He groans and returns my passion with vigor as his tongue rolls and caresses mine. I whimper in his mouth when he suckles my tongue in that way that he knows makes me putty in his heated embrace.

“Peeta you can move. Please. I want all of you too” I plead fervently “Oh yeah?”

His hips roll up into mine and it shocks me to the root when his thick tip grinds against a place deep within me I’d never reached myself. I whisper his name as my waist winds with his to match that lovely rhythm he’d created deep in my soul.

“Just like that” I sigh “You want me deep like this sweetness?”

His hips slide back so that he’s halfway pulled out of me before slowly sliding back in, his lips capturing mine in a soft kiss before kissing my chin. That felt good. When I start trying to thrust my hips into his he smirks against my lips before dipping his mouth to my ear.

“You want more baby?” “Oh yes please!” I can’t help nor do I care how shameless I sound as I whimper, practically crooning in his ear, nodding my head vigorously. “Tell me how you want me. I’m all yours” he rasps.

His hips quicken, the sound of them slapping softly against mine with each gentle thrust.

“Harder. Please. I’m so full. It feels so good” I gasp “I want more” “I’ll give you everything you need love. All night if you want. I’ll be covered in you by morning” he nods sucking at my pulse and squeezing my fingers as his hips pick up the pace, the pressure increasing with each thrust.

As his hips begin to slam into mine, I drag my nails down his back as I feel my second orgasm threatening to shatter me into a million pieces.

“Peeta oh, I’m coming! Peeta just like that” I cry sinking teeth into his shoulder and rolling my hips “Oh no. Look at me baby. I want to see you cum. I want to watch you”

I raise my head and find his heated gaze on my face, having been watching me all the while.

“So. Close” I grit my teeth trying to find my reason as my vision begins to blur rendering me delirious with desire “Mmmhmm. Cum for me. Cum for me love” he groans against my lips in a voice so sinful it makes me whimper.

His breath is intermingling with mine s to the point I can’t tell which is his and which is mine. His lips wrap around the tip of my tongue, suckling back and forth in that way that makes every muscle in my belly clench. His thumb grazes across my scar rubbing soothing circles and I come apart at the seams, screaming his name and thanking God that me screaming his name was a normal occurrence to anyone who knows my name because I was loud as Peeta made love to me. As I come apart around him, holding him tight to me, I sing his name against his lips with my legs locked tight and shaking as I cum all over him buried deep within me.

“Fuck baby I’m cumming!” he curses trying to pull back

My legs keep him firmly locked in place as I shake my head.

“You promised not to let go” I gasp trying to think through my earth-shattering orgasm

His kisses are bruising and I welcome them as I claw hungrily at him anywhere my free hand can touch. His thrusts are quicker, a little harsher in a way that rubs me so deep I feel that coil tightening.

“Oh no. I can’t cum again oh please” I cry out

I don’t care how needy it made me look as I fought the rocking of my hips while he drove me closer and closer to my peak again with his quick, deep strokes.

“Yes. One more time baby. Cum with me sweet girl. You can do it. I got you. I’m here” he moans against my so hotly that he pulls it from me with his adoring words. “Peeta! Oh Peeta, I love you!” I scream so hard my throat hurts, nails raking down his back as I explode into a million different directions “Oh baby I love you too. So much. Here I cum” he moans, his tongue now in my mouth

His hips give one last sharp thrust and then his back bows and he cries out lowly in my mouth, his chest vibrating against mine, the both of us trembling in one another's arms, him filling me to the brim. His hips roll and jerk in spasms as we ride out our orgasms together. When he is spent, Peeta gives me one more tender kiss before slowly withdrawing himself from me so gently I hardly feel the sting. He kisses my droopy eyelids, giving my hand a squeeze, before releasing my fingers and continuing to shower my face in butterfly kisses. I giggle and squeeze at his shoulders at the ticklish sensation, every nerve ending of my highly sensitive body at the moment.

“Be right back beautiful”

I miss his warmth immediately when he removes himself from me and leaves the bed, pulling the cover over me, before making his way to the bathroom. I hear water running and him tinkering with some bottles before he comes back.

“Spread your legs for me?” he hums

I do it without question, dragging myself up onto my forearms and watch him take a washrag out of a bowl with steam coming from it. He’s gentle as he wipes my thighs and pussy clean with the soapy cloth.

“Ummm you’re gonna have to push my cum out. And I promise it will not be a little bit” he admits with a blush “I’ve been waiting to do that for a long time” “Like this?” I contract all my pelvic muscles and concentrate before I push

Peeta’s face takes on a look of bewilderment, his eyes growing wide and mouth popping open.

“I cannot believe that you really did” he breaths and I see that sparkle of arousal again

I hide my face behind my hands and let him finish cleaning me off, only lowering them when he’s finished toweling me dry. After he cleans himself up, Peeta climbs into the bed with me and pulls my naked body into his chest.

“I cannot believe how much I’ve been missing out on not talking to you about it” I sigh feeling exhaustion seep into my bones “Trust me you can spend the rest of your life making it up to me” he smirks before kissing my forehead “Plan on it” I yawn snuggling my face deeper into his chest “Say it again?” he whispers lowly

For some reason I know exactly what he means. I pull my face from his chest and shimmy in his arms until we’re eye to eye, gazing lovingly into his honey glazed eyes that hold a hint of unease in them. I bring my hands up to his face and cup his cheeks, kissing his lips tenderly just as he had treated my body, making sure I was looking him right in the eyes as I spoke the words this time.

“I love you Peeta Mellark” I blush loving how his arms tighten and his kiss deepens at my admission

God I was such an idiot for running from this for so long. We’d been through enough. It was time. And God how I truly do love every inch of Peeta Mellark. I just hope that I can shower him with love the way he’s always made me feel.

The Next Morning

Haymitch stumbled into Peeta’s knowing there’d be bread on the counter for him to snack on to soak up some of this alcohol from his wild night down at the Hob. When he plopped down in a chair at the table, he was pleased to see there were some rolls on the counter and a pot boiling some water. Baker boy never disappoints. Munching on a roll Haymitch poured himself a cup of coffee and enjoyed the peace before Peeta waddled into the room rubbing his eyes, scratching at his naked chest startling him. Peeta was clearly equally surprised to see him when he stopped rubbing at his eyes. He was shirtless and wore sweatpants that weren’t tied so that they hung low on his hips. He was blushing now as he skirted his way around Haymitch, who just watched him with a raised brow at the unusual skittish behavior. He remained silent as Peeta nervously made two cups of hot chocolate, dumping marshmallows in one.

“Are those scratch marks on your back boy?” Haymitch asked incredulously

Peeta cleared his throat, pushing his hand through his overgrown bang nervously.

“Maybe? I hadn’t noticed” “Everything alright?” “Of course.” “Did you fix things?” He asked with narrowed eyes

Now Peeta looks like he wishes he could just evaporate.

“I did. We did” “Good. Where is she?” “Maybe later Haymitch?”

Now Peeta looks terrified and it makes Haymitch suspicious.

“Where is she Peeta?” “Upstairs. Sleeping”

Haymitch walks right past him and bounds up the stairs two at a time.

“Shit. Haymitch wait!” Peeta cursed darting behind him

Haymitch pushed open the cracked bedroom door and had to do a double take before the sight could register. You were fast asleep just as Peeta had said, naked beneath his blankets wrapped around your waist. You lay face down, dark hair fanned across his pillows, one of them clutched tightly in the outstretched arms above your shoulders with your face buried in it. He hadn’t seen you look this at peace in a few years. Sliding backwards Haymitch quietly closed the door before whipping to face Peeta who clearly wanted to flee. Drunk or not, Haymitch was lethal at the worst of times. He grabbed him by the ear and pulled Peeta back to the living room, only releasing him once they got to the couch.

“I see you fixed it”, he smirks dryly “Yeah” Peeta coughs rubbing his reddening ear “I’m proud of you”

Peeta beams and scratches his cheek at the praise.

“Be careful...she’s still, fragile. Remember your way back to each other when things get hard” “Always”

6 Months Later

“There is no way she’s going for this” Peeta repeats for the hundredth time “It’s either that or almost 2 months without you. Which do you think she’ll pick?” Haymitch sighs beyond exasperated with this conversation

They’d been going over this for days and he still hadn’t convinced Peeta this was the only option you'd accept. Whether you liked it or not.

“I still think it’s a little early for this” Peeta sighs “It could help. It’s been over 3 years. It might help to see it in a different and better light, now that things have changed” “Even now when we talk about it...I can see that it still hurts her. I don’t like making her talk about those times” “Well, the train pulls out tomorrow night. You don’t have much choice but to talk it out when she gets back, now do ya?” “Fine!” Peeta huffs in defeat running his hands through his bang again.

***

When I get back from town I’m practically sprinting as I hurry back to Peeta’s to show him the new ingredients I’d managed to get from District 12’s new trades market. Peeta would have so many options to bake from! Maybe it’ll even help him with his current massive order list? When I burst into the living room where I can hear his voice filtering from, I’m unsurprised to see Haymitch.

“Hey” I beam at them

They both look as if they’d swallowed a live snake and weren’t sure how to tell me there was one waiting for me too. I sit at Peeta’s side on the couch, dropping my goodies on the other side of me, before turning to Haymitch, ready for the worst.

“Did something happen?” “Yes and no” Peeta starts “Do you know about Peeta’s orders?” Haymitch cuts right to the quick “Yeah. He’s got wedding cakes, a few shops to open and some other stuff to work on for different districts. Why?” “It’s more than that” Haymitch sighs

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up in warning.

“You know that every few years, the Victors meet up as representatives with Paylor to go over some policies and whatnot, right?” “Yeah. You always go” I insist with narrowed eyes not liking where this was headed “Peeta will be going this time too. Many of his orders are there and he needs the time to get everything ready”

My eyes flash up to Peeta’s and fear constricts my throat. I don’t realize my hands are gripping his arm like a vice until I feel his gentle hand atop both of mine.

“How long?” “A couple months”

I bite back the selfish words as I feel them about to spill over my lips, dropping my head in shame at the fear welling within me at the thought of not only being away from him, but for so long. If I asked him to stay, he would. But I’d worked too hard for the world to see and appreciate his masterpieces. I couldn’t be the reason they never would. I bite down on my bottom lip hard and exhale deeply through my nose. I don’t want him to go but I know he has to. Not to mention it’s been years since either of us have been seen in the Capitol after the war. Haymitch was District 12’s public face again when it came to the Victors from here, no longer Peeta and I, because I’d spent these last years in seclusion trying to get my memories and mind back. Killing Coin had brought this peace for everyone else but I still fought wars in my head because of what she and Snow put me through.

“Hey” Peeta calls softly against my ear

I don’t want to look at him right now. I don’t want his eyes to remind me that he would never leave me if he had a choice because I will ask him not to.

“Look at me sweetness” he coaxes softly kissing my temple

When I finally look back up into his eyes, I see the worry in them and it makes me angry at myself. I can do this!

“I don’t have-”

I shake my head quickly, cutting off the words I knew he was about to say.

“Yes, you do. I want you to go” “I want you to come”

My eyes dart to Haymitch in my peripheral vision off to my left and I can see he’s visibly uncomfortable.

“Where is it being held this year?”

They exchange a look and I know the answer before either speaks it.

“The Capitol”

I push away from Peeta and tuck my hands under my armpits, sinking my nails into the skin of my back to stave off the vicious memories threatening to spill out from the door I’d locked them behind. I don’t want to look at either of them right now. It’s not safe.

“Where?” I breathe “The President’s mansion” “Not the Training Center, right?” I whisper shakily curling into myself, fingers in my hair. “I’d never make you go back in there” Peeta asserts pulling me into his lap with ease, rocking me back and forth “And I’d never allow it” Haymitch shakes his head with disgust at the thought “We...we can stay on the ground floor, right? Not the second floor?” I whisper sounding like a small child “We can do whatever you want” Peeta nods against the top of my head “What’s on the second floor?” Haymitch asks curiously “In the back, behind Snow’s office, in the left corridor” I swallow grateful for Peeta’s strong arms tight around me, holding me together. “When he wanted to watch or hear me. They’d bring me there. It’s where they...my hands” “I remember this story” Peeta nods against the top of my head giving me a squeeze “The last time we were on Capitol grounds together, fighting to take it. They sent you to our squad. You talked to Finnick about it” “What happened?” Haymitch presses “Can you talk about it?”

I know what he was doing. If this was how I acted at the thought of going how would I act while there? I needed to shed some of the bad blood on me from my imprisonment. I turn in Peeta’s arms so we’re both facing Haymitch but I can keep his arms around me, his fingers threaded through mine, chin resting on my head. I really love when he holds me like this.

I begin my story hoping this would take some of the edge off of my fear.

#i ship it #romance #peeta my beloved #peeta x reader #peeta mellark x reader #peeta hg fanfiction #peeta fanfiction #peeta smut #peeta mellark smut #the hunger games peeta #peeta mellark #thg peeta #survivor’s remorse #survivors remorse #part four #fanfiction writer #hunger games fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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marve2014 · 1 year

Text

No Time Like the Present

Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Part Four

Summary: Y/N meets Thing.

Warnings: Minor mention of violence, bullying.

Minors DNI

Word Count:2.9K

Authors Note: All characters aged up to 18. This is where the story diverges from the actual story line.

Outreach day was one day a year that the students of Nevermore coexisted with the kids of Jericho in order to "strengthen the bonds” between the two groups; At least that’s the spiel the mayor keeps giving all the businesses so they’ll let Nevermore students work in their shops. Tyler and I spent the morning talking about Wednesday and I’s not official, official first date while we waited for our Nevermore kid to show up. We were assigned the one and only Xavier Thorpe; the same one who hates Tyler and honestly makes me uncomfortable with how he looks at me and Wednesday. Making my iced coffee before people start trickling in, Xavier comes walking in.

“Hello Xavier, how are you today?” you ask, trying to make polite conversation.

“I’m good y/n, how are you feeling after last night?” he smirks as he grabs an apron and makes his way behind the counter.

“If you must know, I had an amazing time. First dates are never really what you expect them to be, are they?” Smiling as you remember the feeling of Wednesday's hand in yours..

“First date? With who?” you can see the confusion flash across his face and can’t help but chuckle.

“With Wednesday of course. She was the one who demanded it was a date”. You decide to embellish the story just a little bit to make him even more uncomfortable

“Wait, you and Wednesday?!? ‘“ he asks clearly shocked at the information you just provided.

“Yes, me and Wednesday. Is that a problem?' you question coldly.

“No, no, no problem at all. Just a little confused. I thought I was more her type.” He confesses as he starts wiping down the counter “guess she wasn’t playing hard to get, huh? Oh crap. And when I flirted with you before! Jesus I’m on idiot”

"Oblivious, yes, an idiot, eh, harsh words” you defend and give him a smile.

Tyler walks out of the breakroom and notices you and Xavier talking, you look over to him and he sends you a look that you know can lead to nothing good.

“I will be right back Xavier, it seems I am being summoned by that doofus over there” you laugh, walking towards Tyler as he pulls you into a hug when you reach him.

"Wednesday is at pilgrim world, wearing the costume and everything, we have no customers and Xavier can handle the few that come in.” Tyler rushes out all in one breath.

“On my goodness, yes! Lets go! I’m so gonna use this to blackmail her. Xavier? We’ll be back in 10 minutes hold down the fort.”

“Aye, aye captain.” he mock salutes you as you and Tyler make your way to pilgrim word. Looking through the crowd trying to find Wednesday, you notice a smaller kid surrounded by 3 older boys – all dressed up like pilgrims. You leave Tyler and make your way over and see the smaller boy struggling as one of the older ones is trying to force him into a wooden contraption.

“HEY! LEAVE HIM ALONE!” You run over and all of them stare at you.

“Go away, this doesn’t have anything to do with you, outcast lover.” The ring leader says as he tries to get the small boy to stop squirming. You look around trying to find an adult as you feel someone walk directly next to you.

“Howdy Pilgrims.” You look and see Wednesday staring at the situation with a cold decisive look in her eyes. “ I suggest you let Eugene go”. Wednesday rests her arm on the top of the wooden stock preventing it from closing on him.

“What do you want to end up in the stocks too?” The ring leader asks as you pull the kid Wednesday called Eugene from the wooden stock and put your arm around his shoulder to comfort him.

“If I recall, we did this dance before and it didn’t end up well for you.” Wednesday smugly states as the larger boy makes a move to grab her. You stay with Eugene and Wednesday ends up tossing the kid to the floor and breaks his finger; all of the Jericho boys flee and you and Wednesday tend to Eugene. You're cleaning his uniform when Wednesday walks over and takes in the both of you smiling and laughing despite what just happened.

“Why do I always find you in trouble?” Wednesday asks while you finish cleaning up Eugene.

“Well I couldn’t let them just be mean to Eugene. It would be like hurting a puppy!” You laugh and stare at Wednesday noticing how beautiful she looks.

“You are absolutely gorgeous. How did I get so lucky?” You ask and can tell Wednesday is starting to blush.

“I assume you two know each other?” Eugene interrupts.

“Yes Eugene, this is y/n. She’s a normie. But she’s MY normie.” Wednesday declares ready to defend you if Eugene were to say something cross. You can feel your cheeks heating up at her casualness of mentioning you two being an item, unable to hide your smile you grab Wednesdays hand in yours.

“Well Eugene, it was a pleasure meeting you but I need to borrow Wednesday here.” You smile and lead both you and Wednesday back to the Weathervane walking in, still hand and hand with each other you make Wednesday sit at the table closest to the cash register you leave her there while you make her, her usual all the while Xavier is staring at you both mouth gaped open,with how easily she is letting you order her around; something he imaged should not even be possible with how strong willed the Wednesday Addams he knows is. Xavier makes his way over to the table you sat Wednesday at and smugly looks her up and down.

“Never thought I would see Wednesday Addams act so domestic.”

“Xavier, I’m going to stay this once and only once, if you value your life you’re going to keep your mouth shut and not mention what’s seen here today to anyone at Nevermore.”

“Ill keep that in mind.” He smiles and makes a move to sit across from Wednesday.

“Xavier, if I’m not mistaken, you’re supposed to actually work; not harass customers. Go wipe something down.” You glare and make sure he’s away from Wednesday before she can threaten him anymore. Finishing up her drink, you walk over and take where Xavier was going to sit. You look Wednesday in the eyes “I am taking you somewhere tonight, be at the gates of the school at 9:00p.m. Okay? And dress warm. I don’t want you catching a cold.”

“Fine, but I need to talk to Tyler, has he made it back yet?” She questions.

“No clue, let me check the back. One minute”. You run to the back break room and see Tyler sitting in one of the chairs drinking an energy drink and playing some game on his phone.

“Wednesday needs you, please and thank youuuu.” You smile and wait for him to follow.

“The peasant you were seeking ma’am.” You motion to tyler.

“How can I be of service?” Tyler jokes as Wednesday pulls out a map she got from Pilgrim World.

“I need to know where on this map is the old pilgrims meeting house from the 1600s.”

Tyler looks down at the map confused and then points to a secluded area.

“There, but its kind of sketchy, Squatters and meth heads use it as a crash pad. My dad has to clear it out every few weeks. Why are you looking for it?”

“No reason.” Wednesday coldly states as she looks from Tyler to you.

“Becoming obsessed with the monster in the woods, are we?” Tyler jokes.

“Okayyyy, and that’s enough interaction between the two of you. Wednesday here has to go play her cello and then she has a date to get ready for” you usher Tyler away and pull Wednesday in for a hug. You feel her stiffen and then immediately relax into your arms. “I will see you later, Lovely. Okay?” You kiss her cheek and send her on her way.

Feeling the stares from both Tyler and Xavier, you ignore both of them and make yourself a coffee before the lunch rush comes in.

The rest of the shift goes by without a hitch, Xavier staying away from Tyler, and everyone staying away from you until it was time to close. You and Tyler head to your house so you can get ready for your date.

“So what exactly did you plan for your date?” Tyler asks as he starts rummaging through the fridge looking for a snack.

“A dinner picnic. You can eat anything in that fridge but so help me if you touch the cheese. It’s for tonight.” You yell as you make your way up the stairs. Looking through your clothes, you decide on jeans and a sweater so that you will be warm in the cold night air. Walking back down stairs you get a picnic basket from the Hall closet and bring it into the kitchen. Getting some fancy bread, crackers, fruit and cheese you start loading it all up as Tyler sits there watching eating some form of food in an old takeout container.

“Do you think shell like this?” You nervously ask, placing some drinks into the basket.

“I think she would literally let you sit there and just stare at her and she would have a good time. I mean you got kidnapped and she classified it as a date.”

“You’re not wrong. Okay, foods packed, Im ready. You can stay if you want. My mom will be home in like an hour; you know she loves feeding you. I’m out.” You hug Tyler, leaving him in the house as you make your way to the gates of Nevermore. Pulling near the gates, you see Wednesday and you put the car in park and hop out. Grabbing the black roses you hid in the backseat, you make your way over to her and pull the passenger door open for her.

“I know you love black flowers, and these are a lot easier to find than black dahlias. I hope you like them.” You smile as you close her door and get in the drivers side.

“Thank you for the flowers, not everyone can appreciate a dead flower. But I do.”

“Kay, so I promise im not bringing you to our next location to murder you. I feel like you could take me down and kill me faster than I could kill you, however, It is a spooky place, but that’s your vibe, and I want you to be comfortable.” You explain nervously as you start driving toward your destination.

Pulling into an old cemetery you see a small smile at the corners of Wednesday’s lips.

‘’This is an acceptable location for the date.” Wednesday tries to not seem excited.

You get the blanket and pillows while Wednesday grabs the picnic basket and you make your way to the back of the cemetery. Placing everything down, you and Wednesday begin to eat the snacks you prepared.

“Can I ask something without you getting offended?” You cautiously ask Wednesday, making her put down her crackers.

“I suppose that’s okay. Go ahead.” She responds.

“What makes me different? Everyone else gets this cold version of you, but I seem to get a softer side.” You grab her hand and start drawing small circles on the back of her knuckles.

“I don’t know what you mean. I treat you the same exact way I treat everyone else.” She argues but keeps her hand held within yours.

“Oh really? So if anyone else held your hand, you’d be fine? Or if anyone else did this?” You lean forward and gently cup the side of Wednesday’s face and bring your lips to hers. You can feel her resist the kiss and you start to pull back thinking you made a huge mistake. As a wave of embarrassment begins to wash over you, you feel Wednesday's hands on each side of your head, tangling her hands in your hair, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss; neither of you stopping until you need to come up for air. You look over at Wednesday's flushed state and start to giggle.

“So you would let anyone else do that? I have to say, if this is gonna work, I’m gonna need that to not happen.”

“If anyone else did that to me I would gouge their eyes out and deliver them to you on a bed of roses. Only you get to do that to me, there are a lot of things you make me feel that I can not explain. It should repel me, disgust me, but one look at your smile and I now understand why the sun dies for the moon each night. Before you, I was destined to live a lonely existence. But the mere thought of never seeing you again brings me a pain that for once, I do not enjoy. I am learning that there is more to life than solitude and just living to eventually die.” Leaning over Wednesday takes the initiative to lay herself slotted between your legs, her back to your chest as she brings your hands to hold hers as they rest on her stomach. Too shocked to say anything you just squeeze Wednesday further into your arms and rest your head on top of hers. You both enjoy each others company while staring at the stars and continuing to eat the snacks you packed.

“So what are your parents like?” You ask. “I saw their photo in that weird library we went to.”

“My parents have always loved each other more than life itself. Growing up with them was sickening; always having to see how much they loved each other. I also have a brother, his name is Pugsley. He’s defenseless at best, he’s the reason I got sent here. There were kids at school bullying him; they tied him up and shoved him in a locker. I don’t like when people mess with the people that I care about if you haven’t noticed. Eugene reminds me a lot of Pugsley, minus the urge to strangle him constantly.”

Wednesday gets a faraway look in her eyes as she talks more about her family, her Uncle Fester, Thing.

“Wait wait wait! So he’s actually just a hand? Like just the hand, no arm, no body and he’s able to communicate and move?” You ask excitedly, wanting to meet him immediately.

“It’s one of the great Addams Family mysteries. He’s over there by that headstone if you want to meet him. He was with us in the library as well. You’re kind of unobservant.” Wednesday laughs and snaps her fingers calling Thing over.

“Thing, this is y/n, y/n this is Thing.” Wednesday introduces.

You squeal with excitement. “Ohhhh my god. Can i pick him up? He’s so cute!”

Thing tilts his nub of a wrist and confusingly looked at Wednesday.

“Go ahead, she wants you to.” Wednesday reassures him. Thing walks on his fingers over to you and climbs up your leg making his was to your outstretched hand. You begin to coo and pet his palm.

“I love him, I want to take him home. He’s like a little bunny rabbit that you don’t need to feed or water.” That comment gets you flicked in the hand by Thing and you look down at him scoldingly. “Heyy. I was calling you cute, don’t make me put you in the car.” You threaten and nuzzle his palm into your hands using it they way you would rub a dogs stomach.

“He may act like he hates it, but he actually loves the attention. He’s like a dog.” Wednesday explains as she makes him get down on her shoulder so she can take your hands in hers again.

As you both continue to lay there you start to hear a rustling in the woods behind you. Looking over, Thing has left, already going to investigate. Grabbing Wednesdays hand with worry you pull the both of you to your feet and start packing all of the remaining food, blankets and pillows and rush to the car.

“We need to go back and get Thing.” You breathlessly tell Wednesday.

“Thing will be fine, its what he’s made for.” Wednesday calmly states.

“Wednesday, you said he was family. I don’t know if you’ve watched Lilo and Stitch, but no one gets left behind.” You yell, making your way back to where you were seated in the cemetery to attempt to locate Thing with Wednesday trailing behind you. Trying to remain calm you slowly make your way into the opening of the woods and are immediately met with what sounded like loud footsteps. Grabbing Wednesday and turning around to run you both stop in your tracks as you’re assaulted by the light of a bright flashlight being shone directly in your eyes.

Taglist: @athenablack1959 @lovelyy-moonlight @wednesdayiswoe @@deadpool-in-a-snood @lixeira @laurenmusic17 @antilost @donnabenevientosbitch @greygsworld @yukiunoo @dumb-ass2 @futurepiratekingfluffy @cupiocalamity @ladey

#wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday season 1 #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday addams #wednesday netflix #wednesday x you #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams fanfic #Wednesday Addams x y/n #Wednesday Addams fanfiction #Part Four #Series #No time like the present #Wednesday Addams Story #Wednesday x female!reader

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ericshoney · 2 months

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Stalker Boy ~ Part four

The first week you've spent with Sunwoo has been hell. You gave him attitude, tried to escape three times and was an all-round brat. However, you weren't going to give up. You wouldn't lose.

On the other hand, Sunwoo knew all your tricks and knew the way you were acting was to get a reaction out of him. He found it funny watching you try and escape, only to fall right back into his arms. Sunwoo had decided to let you give up in your own time, he wasn't in any rush.

So, at the moment, you were sat on the sofa, quietly thinking of escape plan number four. Could you try the window? Somehow the front door after he leaves? All these questions racked your brain, until you heard a small bark.

You turned your head so fast you could have got whiplash, but you saw your dog, Buster. Sunwoo stood at the door, a small smirk on his face.

"Buster!" You exclaimed, running over to the dog, fussing him as he jumped at you. He missed you as much as you missed him.

"See, I do nice things." Sunwoo muttered as he locked the front door.

"Why?" You asked, you knew you hadn't been giving him what he wanted.

"Just thought I would, plus I don't like seeing animals suffer." He answered with a shrug, making you scoff.

"But you like seeing humans suffer." You mumbled under your breath, thinking he couldn't hear you, but he did. Sunwoo chuckled and placed a hand on your head gently.

"Oh darling, I only like seeing you suffer." He said.

Sunwoo then walked away, letting you re-connect with your dog. You spent the day, playing with Buster and relaxing, your escape plan totally forgotten.

When it came to dinner, Sunwoo had cooked your favourite. You almost forgot who he was for a moment, seeing him cooking. Buster was now curled up taking a nap as you sat, watching Sunwoo.

"Dinner is served, it's your favourite, my darling." Sunwoo said as he placed the plates down.

You gave him a small smile, but thought, why was he being so nice all of a sudden. Bringing Buster to you, cooking your favourite meal, he hadn't even watched you today, possibly giving you the chance to walk free.

"Sunwoo..." You called.

"Yes, my love." He replied.

"Why are you being so sweet?" You asked, making him chuckle.

"I've realised, me trying to control you is just making you want to misbehave and act like a brat." He answered.

You froze at his words, was he onto your plan then? He must be if he's acting like this. You then thought of something.

"So...if your acting all sweet....can I just leave?" You asked.

Sunwoo looked at you blankly before laughing. He laughed so hard, tears came to his eyes.

"Oh baby, your so funny!" He exclaimed.

"What's so funny about wanting to leave?" You replied with some sass.

"That you think you can actually leave, your mine, my love." He answered.

"Your helping me get better, darling." He added, moving closer to you. He held your hand gently.

"Don't leave me." He whispered.

You felt your heart break, was Sunwoo actually a good guy, but just needed some love and support? You gazed into his doe like brown eyes.

"I....I won't leave you and I'll stop acting like a brat." You agreed with a soft smile.

Sunwoo pulled you into a hug, smirking to himself. His plan had worked perfectly and he had you where he wanted you~

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cato616 · 10 months

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NEGOTIATING OVER US (part four)

roman roy x fem reader

summary: you've been playing around with his attitude a little bit, however when he asked that question in his office, you froze... what are you going to say to him?

content/warning: +18 here comes the smut lol, masturbation, voyeurism? invasion of privacy, aromantic feelings perhaps

"you fucking want me, don't you?"

You hear those words sinking deep into your brain; you feel your body warmer and harder to breathe, you had to open your mouth a bit to let even more oxygen to fill your lungs. Nothing but eye fucking between each other. You do, you do fucking want it, 'but why, how do I make the next step?'

As soon you were about to say something for yourself, "im kidding, i usually do that" roman laughs while backing up. You looked puzzled, his egocentrism got over himself. "although... i do think you actually want it.." he gazed at you a second time, sitting on top of his desk, smirking.

'He greedy fuck' you think; thinking you should've left already and not being fooled by his tricks of petty little fuck boy over there, and you get too upset.

"i am leaving now" you said pretty calmly, without breaking any pipes. "and im sure im not coming back". You then started to leave the building, with no roman following from behind.

You take advantage of the walk back to work, to think about what just happened. This kind of moment had never happened to you before, and there were so many feelings mixed inside you, although you did want it, the confrontation made you flinch, something confusing about you, how come im terribly aroused and turned on by it all, but at the same time, the intimacy makes me uneasy and have an awkward feeling about it?

Made you feel sad, wishing you didn't have that awkward feeling about it, and wish you would've let it play it out, if i wanted it, then im supposed to get it, right? (you sigh) i guess I'll be good on my own and it will pass... i hope.

You arrived back to the café, looking gloomy. "hey! you're back already, what did they say?" Liza kindly asks curiously, and you directly tell her. "oh, um, nothing much, roman is full of crap that's all". You put your apron back on to start working, you keep doing your day as if nothing happened. "well, if we're talking about him, then makes sense." says Liza

It's closing time and you close up with Liza, you say goodbye to each other and head back home.

You're planning to take a shower, so when you enter your flat, you immediately leave your stuff on the entrance and your phone on a table. 'ding' 'ding'. You get some notification from someone, however, you ignore it, you don't to look at your phone, you want to take that shower right at that instant, take your mind elsewhere.

Your shower time is the most special and private for you. You get to talk to yourself, sing, and sometimes get on with yourself. And perhaps, today are one of those days.

Although you felt a little sad wanting to avoid the cringe images, you did felt some heat of it. That is something you usually don't avoid, and at the moment, where the water was slowly running down your body, you were also feeling your down parts pulsating, aching for some pleasure to be given, and you didn't have any problem at all doing it, since you always have loved to jerk yourself every now and then, although, now you were getting pretty horny when thinking about your early events, so you start closing your eyes, trying to remember every detail from yesterday and from this morning, while gradually placing your yearning fingers over your clit, starting to make moderate circles around it. You put your hand against the wall, the water is still running; you start to imagine, his breathing, when he got close to you each time, when he had looked directly to your eyes; you know those moments where meant to start something afterwards, but it didn't, so now you would have to imagine the what if afterwards. Was he going to start banging you over his desk, or did he was letting you give him a meaningful blow job. You're now pacing faster, either imagining his cock in your mouth or inside you, was increasingly making you more turned on.

While you where taking your shower, you don't notice, but there's a visitor waiting outside your front door, of course, it's roman roy, those were his notifications on your phone. he texted:

hey what's up, it is i, roman

pretty sure you don't wanna talk to me but ummm you left your coat at my office...

and i was guessing i could apologize like yeah whatever, I could go to your place to leave your coat if that's okay and we could talk about fucking feelings and stupid things like that

my bad, i retract myself, not stupid

don't get weird on this, i do already have your address, it's just because of the information we have already on your little shop, your address show up so no im not a fucking stalker

im just leaving your coat, say sorry, and leave. that's it.

He rang your bell, but you were too focused on yourself to notice, plus, your bathroom door were just semi-open. So he starts knocking. Forgetful mind of yours, you didn't exactly close your door, it was very easy to open from the outside, so that's pretty dangerous actually. So when roman began to knock, he sees that he accidentally opened the door just a bit.

shit he says quietly. "Um hello?" his got decently more louder, not wanting to scream. He then sees some steam coming out what was obviously the bathroom.

"oh" he says when realizing, and then leaving your coat on the couch he was standing next to. He suddenly starts to hear some groaning coming from there, some heavy breathing, it wasn't very loud, but he has some very sharp hearing.

"oh" he says more quietly catching on what's happening. Roman was somewhat curious of what was on the other side of that door, and of course that man would be the type of person wanting to take even a glimpse of it. He thinks about his decision first, but he couldn't take his mind off your two other encounters you had. Couldn't help but just hearing your gasping and soft moaning coming from inside. He tried to not take a peek of it, he just kept himself outside the restroom, getting aroused by your noises.

While you didn't know you had roman right next by the door, you kept pleasing yourself; even tho water from the shower was already going down through your thighs, you felt other wetness from inside about to burst between your shivering legs.

You were almost about to cum, your eyes were still closed, hand over the wall and the other one pacing very rapidly on your clit, you lift your hips, standing tip toed on the ground. It was getting really good, you had your mouth open while also gasping for air.

Meanwhile roman was still on the other side, hearing you groan. It was making him feel very much excited. He noticed his bulge was getting even noticable. He couldn't wait any longer. He undid his belt very fast, letting him have a bit of room between his pelvic and his pants, allowing him to slide his hand down to his slick firm cock. He then started to make his way on stroking down to it.

ahh.. You get to moan a little bit louder this time, and outside is roman rubbing his own, firmly and fast.

"fuck fuck fuck" he whispers to himself, got himself very fast near his peak, trying to find your pace.

You were practically sticking your nails into your palm by making a fist, and had your toes curling, you start to quiver, legs unstable of staying steady. You were almost there.

"aahh fuck"

You came loud as fuck. Then started to catch your breath, lowering your whole feet back on ground, feeling satisfied and content. You start to let some water wash over your inner thigh and-

"f-fuck" roman mistakenly came as loud as you.

"what the fuck?" you whisper to yourself; very scared of the situation.

who the fuck was that?

continue

#roman roy x you #roman roy x reader #roman roy #roman roy fic #succession #succession fic #fanfic #smut #+18 or +adult only #smut fic #part four

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kingdomhate · 5 months

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First Glance (Part Four)

The moment the both of you landed on Tatooine, you were hit by the air-thinning heat and seemingly endless sand. Well, at least now you know why Anakin hates sand. As you both hop out, Anakin leads you into the tiny hut of his house.

Following him, you can see a droid, one that was very obviously unfinished; loose wires, no plates and a very bad paint job, as the droid was a charcoal black. "Oh! Hello there! I'm C-3PO human-cyborg relations." The droid speaks in a sort of Victorian way. Anakin smiles at the droid. "Nice to see you, again." It takes the droid a moment to realize. "Master Ani! It has been so long!" 3PO cries out happily. "Who is this?" The droid inquires, turning slightly to you. "A friend of mine. A close one." You turn to 3PO, smiling warmly. "I'm Y\N. A padawan."

"A padawan? Hello!" Anakin walks into the doorframe, holding your hand to lead you through. "What is it now?" A voice grumbled frustratingly, only to see a man in a wheelchair, no more than fifty, wheeling his chair to the entryway, where you and Anakin stand. "What are- Anakin?" The man questions. "Lars, is that your name?" Anakin says, huffing slightly. "Uh yes. Are you Anakin Skywalker?" The man queried once more. "Yes." Anakin answered simply. "Oh. I've heard of you." He wheels his chair back more and more into the kitchen, looking over his shoulder before gazing back at you both.

"I've come here for my mother, where is she?" Just as Anakin had asked the burning question he had spent nights wondering of, a woman walked in, a woman with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. "Cliegg, I-" She stopped short and the sight of you and Anakin, two Jedi trainee's. "Anakin, this is my wife, Aika. Aika, this is Shmi's son, Anakin." Aika nodded slightly, walking closer to her husband. "Hello." She greets softly. Anakin nods and then studies Cliegg once more.

"Where is my mom? And why are you talking about her like that?" Anakin demands, his tone rising slowly. You place a hand on his shoulder, attempting to calm him down. "You'd better sit down." Warns Cliegg, motioning to the couple of chairs in front of him. Sitting down directly next to each other, Anakin's eyes, now a piercing blue, stared down Cliegg, sort of like a prey. "When Watto sold your mother, I bought her. We fell in love and got married, and one night, once I was sleeping, Shmi was stolen, taken. I looked and looked and looked, and couldn't find anything, and with my leg and the fact these people could be anywhere, Anakin, I-" Cliegg was interrupted by Anakin's now booming voice. "By who?!"

Aika flinched and gripped Cliegg's shoulder, her eyes darting from Anakin to yours, her blue eyes frightened and startled. Cliegg takes a moment to answer. "The sandpeople." Anakin grits his teeth. You look at Cliegg for a second, "How long has it been since Shmi was taken?" Cliegg takes a sharp breath. "Months." Anakin let's out a low scoff and then heads outside, you take a moment before following him.

Catching up to him, you grasp his hand in yours, and he lets out a low sigh, visibly relaxing. "I don't understand... what would they want with her?" Anakin questions softly, taking you into an embrace. "I don't know." You say in response just as gently. "I have to find her." He announces to you, the determination in his voice evident. "What? Anakin, don't." He breaks away from the hug. "Why not? I don't have the right to find my own mother? To know what happened to her?" His voice cracks slightly, hiding his rage.

"Of course you do! But, what if she doesn't want you to know?" You argue, voice rising as well. "Why wouldn't she want me to?! She is MY mother! You don't even know her." He practically shouts at you, you close your mouth and lean back, completely silent. He sighs audibly and then turns away, running his hands through his hair. You, completely silent, just walks away, back inside. Anakin takes a moment to compose himself, but instead of apologizing, he makes an impulsive decision.

Checking to see if his lightsaber was still on his hip, he hops into his speeder and then zooms away. Hearing the noise, you run to see what it was, at the sight of Anakin zooming away, the feeling brings a strange sense of hurt. What was the point? Of coming here? If Anakin was just going to zoom off from you, as if you had a disease or something?

A\N: Cliffhanger! Part five out tomorrow, and that is supposed to be the falling action of this series, so it may take a bit to make.

Tags:

@haydenpookiebear

@sweetcheesecakesblog

(Let me know if you'd like to be added or taken off of my taglist!)

#star wars #fluff #slight angst?#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #hope you enjoy #first glance #series #part four #took me seemingly forever omg #might be a bit bland #sorry

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thedecayingapplefiles · 3 months

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Part Four

Scootaloo had returned to Twilight's home with a small, unnoticeable scratch on her side. Everything was fine for a few days. Scootaloo hadn't told the other ponies of what she's seen... It didn't feel real.

Over time... Her colors became saturated. Sores appeared on her body.

Little did Scootaloo know, she had been infected as well.

It took a day or so for Twilight to notice and to lock the filly away in quarantine, much to poor Sweetiebelle's dismay. But Twilight had to research what was happening. It wasn't normal. Something was obviously wrong with Scootaloo.

It was the exact same thing that Applejack said happened to Applebloom. Scootaloo's teeth fell out. She cried that she couldn't see. That she wanted Rainbow, she wanted Sweetie and Applebloom.

All until the final phase of the infection took hold. Her hooves cracked painfully, splitting into two sharp, jagged claws. Her eyes were completely and utterly missing. Her mouth was open in a wide, jagged-toothed smile.

Twilight was stunned. It hadn't been a prank, like Dash had suggested.

"...It's an infection." The alicorn whispered, before turning and leaving Scootaloo in the cell to retrieve Sweetiebelle and Rainbow Dash, so they could say goodbye to Scootaloo. Because whatever was in that cell... wasn't her.

#mlp #mlp infection au #mlp virus #tw body horror #story #part four #mlp fim #the decaying apple files

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afewproblems · 1 year

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Warm my Cold and Tired Heart (Part Four - Final Part)

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Steve swallows a particularly rough sob as he lets himself collapse against the door, his eyes burn as tears continue to roll down his cheeks. He lifts his hands to grind his knuckles into his eyes until stars appear in the darkness behind his eyelids.

The jig was up now, first Wayne and now Hopper - Steve curses himself silently for trusting that the senior Munson wouldn’t blab - did Steve forget who he was related to? And now Hopper knew…

But, he’d managed these situations just fine on his own before, and he would again.

This was just another one of those times, he told himself, he didn’t need Hopper chasing after him, he didn’t need his parents' presence, rolling their eyes and berating him about his lack of achievement. He didn’t need the Munson's earnest help, Steve could look after himself, he was good at it.

Well, at the very least, he’s survived this long hasn’t he?

Steve tries to get his breathing under control as another sob ripples through his chest, forcing his shoulders to stutter and stop; he reaches up and grips his hair in a tight fist, the pain draws a whine from his lips but does nothing to halt the tears.

Steve doesn’t remember the last time he cried like this, it’s as though a dam has burst with no way to stop the deluge.

He’s not sure how long he’s been on the floor, Steve hasn’t worn a watch since before Starcourt, since his father had taken back his gift. Three generations of Harringtons had attended Yale and all three had worn that watch, something of a good luck charm his dad had said when he had given it to Steve at the beginning of his sophomore year.

Harrington senior hadn’t even waited for the rejection letter to hit the floor before he sprinted up the stairs that warm summer morning back in 1985, barging into Steve’s room and demanding to know what the hell his son was playing at.

He’d ripped the watch from Steve’s arm after catching him by the collar of his pajama shirt and shaking him away.

He started at Scoops later that same week. His parents left on business two days after that.

Steve pinches the tip of his nose and he sniffles before wiping the excess snot on his jeans, he grimaces and passes the crook of his arm once more over his face. The tears are slowing, leaving his face feeling hot and his body wrung out.

He grabs the handle of the front door and braces his other hand on his knee as he stands on shaky legs and a twinging ankle, Steve sniffles once more and drags himself into the kitchen.

The wall clock just above the dining table ticks softly as Steve crosses towards the sink, he tips the tap lever up until cool water runs in a steady stream into the basin. He cups his hands and bends down to splash his face. Steve scrubs his hands roughly down his face before shutting off the water and reaching blindly for the towel hanging off the stove handle.

A soft knock on the sliding glass door startles a yelp out of Steve as he whirls around to see a familiar face.

It’s Eddie standing on the concrete patio, one hand sits in his pocket, the other plays with the door handle, his eyebrows pinch between his soft brown eyes, the famous thousand watt smile is nowhere to be found.

He knocks again gently against the glass and waves his hand with splayed fingers, “Hey Stevie, you wanna let me in?”

Steve stands frozen, he wrings the towel in his hands, wrapping them and unwrapping them like a boxer before the heavyweight match, his legs feel like lead but he takes a tentative step towards the patio door.

Steve slowly unlatches the lock and slides the door over just enough for Eddie’s hand to reach through and meet his own on the inside handle, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m having the weirdest sense of deja vu right now,” Eddie says softly, Steve laughs but the sound is muted and wet with old tears.

Eddie’s fingers tap Steve’s hand where it rests, the touch is small but it feels like tiny sparks dancing across his skin. Eddie could easily push the door open and make his way through but he remains where he is, separated by a thin pane of glass.

“You, uh, you touring the neighbourhood at this time of night Eds?” Steve murmurs, he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, still holding the door handle, still connected to the warmth of Eddie's fingers as the smallest of smiles tugs gently at the corner of his mouth.

“Nah,” Eddie breathes out as he leans in on the balls of his feet, without the door their faces would nearly be touching, “I think this area is just a smidgen out of my price range," Eddie says with a crooked grin. The tone is light, but his eyes dart across Steve's face and all at once Steve is hyper aware of what he must look like right now, "I mean did you see the pool?”

Steve sniffs and grimaces at the sound, he ducks his head, “Look, Eddie--”

“Although," Eddie continues abruptly, the same light tone saturates the words, “I can’t really write off a place like this without even touring the inside!” He drops his hands to his pockets and Steve laments the loss of the warmth of the other man's fingers on his hand.

Eddie brings his ringed hands together with a clap and rubs them together, biting his lower lip, “Come on Stevie," he says softly, lifting his hand to rest on Steve’s own once more, "just let me in?”

Steve swallows and breathes in, he winces again as the air catches in his nose again.

Eddie looks so earnest standing there, his hand is steady, steadier than Steve would have expected from someone filled with such frenetic energy. The hand is warm, it radiates out from Eddie in a way that makes Steve ache.

He nods once, slides the door open all the way and steps aside to let the other man through.

The smile Eddie shoots him is blinding.

Eddie steps through and pulls the door shut quickly as though Steve might change his mind. He turns and looks towards Steve once before flicking the lock into place, "It's a private tour right?" Eddie says with a grin, "don't need any ghosties or ghoulies interrupting us now".

Steve smiles wanly, it doesn't reach his eyes as he clears his throat and crosses his arms tightly across his chest.

"Sooooo," Eddie hums, the word extends into a musical drawl, "you uh, you okay Stevie? You left," Eddie's voice softens as he leans back against the closed glass door.

"I don't really want to talk about it Eddie," Steve says sharply, he's suddenly bristling like a cat, his mood swinging violently into defensiveness. He stalks past Eddie and tugs on the pulley beside the door to bring the blinds all the way across.

Eddie jumps out of the way and swings his hands up in front of him, "okay, okay," he says softly as his brows pinch together into a small frown.

They stand in the kitchen silently for a moment, Eddie snaps his fingers and dips forward onto the balls of his feet before tipping backwards on to his heels, if Steve didn't know him better he'd say Eddie was nervous --but that didn't make any sense.

Eddie was confidence, bravado, he said what he wanted, did what he wanted; consequences be damned.

It was unsettling and Steve knew it was his own fault for snapping like a child.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie barks out, forcing a flinch out of Steve at the sudden noise. He’s holding his hands, pulling and twisting his long fingers over and over, “Jonathan warned me about this--”

“I know,” Steve whispers, he pinches the tip of his nose again as his eyes prickle with a sudden heat, not again, “I overheard you guys”.

At that, Eddie freezes again.

“What uh, what all did you overhear exactly,” Eddie says slowly, deliberately. He takes a step forwards, closer to Steve, his expression carefully blank but he can’t seem to stop his eyes from narrowing slightly.

“That you needed to be careful around me, which I understand,” Steve huffs, he lowers his hand back down to wrap around himself even tighter, “I know I was a bastard in highschool but I,” he bites his lower lip and looks away as the words threaten to tumble out.

I would never hurt you, I love you, I love you, I love you.

“I’m really trying,” he mumbles instead.

“Steve,” Eddie says softly but firmly, “Stevie look at me, that's not what Jon was saying”.

Steve nods but refuses to meet Eddie’s gaze, here it comes. Some form of gentle let down, an ‘it’s not you, it’s me’.

Well, at least it would be quick, rip the bandaid off now, let him go up to his room to sleep it off and lick his wounds privately after Eddie left. He would get over it.

He always did.

"You know," Eddie says eventually, tilting his head up to look around, "back in highschool I always wondered what this place looked like inside".

Steve finally looks up to see Eddie staring at him, and there is an expression that seems more familiar painting the metal-heads face.

Determination.

Eddie steps forward slowly, eyes tracking Steve's face as though he's walking towards a wounded animal, and perhaps that isn't too far from the truth Steve thinks to himself. Eddie keeps moving until he's crowded Steve against the counter.

"But I think," Eddie whispers, he tips his nose to brush Steve's own. His heart is racing now, like it's about to leap from his chest but Steve does everything in his power to remain still.

"I was always more interested in seeing you".

Steve can't help the scoff that leaves his lips and freezes when he realizes what he’s done, Eddie pulls back slightly to catch his eye.

"Is that so hard to believe, sweetheart?" Eddie whispers as he reaches up to cup Steve's cheek.

Eddie is close enough now that Steve can count the lashes on his dark eyes and the faint freckles spread across his cheekbones.

Is it hard to believe? Yes, absolutely.

He had twenty years of empirical evidence that would suggest the complete opposite.

"Hey," Eddie murmurs, tracing his thumb gently against Steve’s cheekbone, “stay with me here, I got a few things I think I need to say and you’re going to do me a favour and listen,” Eddies eyes shift back and forth, darting between Steves own wide ones, “think you can do that for me honey?”

Steve swallows past a large lump that sticks in his throat like gravel, he nods once and Eddie grins, letting his pointer finger and middle finger pin Steve’s earlobe with a light squeeze.

“Okay,” Eddie exhales, it comes out shaky but the hand on Steve’s face remains steady, always steady, and warm.

“Okay, you Steve Harrington, are a good person,” Eddie raises his free hand’s pointer finger to place over his own lips as Steve opens his mouth to interject, “Ah, ah, ah, my turn remember?”

Steve’s eyes are burning now, he blinks rapidly and nods dumbly, fighting against the urge to throw himself away from Eddie and up the stairs to the safety of his bedroom.

“You are kind,” Eddie continues, “you are sweet, you try so god damn hard that it’s sometimes unbelievable and honestly, when Dustin and the kids would not shut up about their cool baby-sitter, Steve Harrington, I didn’t get it man”.

“But I do now, and Steve Harrington is a pretty cool guy,” Eddie pauses for a moment before taking a deep breath, “and I really like him.”

The words take a moment to register before they hit Steve squarely in the chest.

Steve sniffs wetly, his voice warbles slightly as he speaks, “say it again”.

Eddie brings his thumb across Steve’s cheek to catch a tear or two that have escaped, he brings his other hand up to Steve's other cheek to wipe his face.

“I really like you Steve Harrington, and I hope,” Eddie whispers as he leans in even closer, running his nose across Steves again, “I really hope that I’m reading this correctly and that you’ll let me kiss you without decking me”.

Steve barks out a laugh that sounds more like a sob as he nods rapidly and Eddie beams his 1000 watt smile that lights up the dimly lit kitchen.

Steve meets him in the middle as Eddie leans in.

It's like no other kiss Steve has ever experienced before, Eddie's one hand slides from Steve’s cheek to briefly cup his head before travelling down to wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer into Eddie’s chest.

Steve’s hands rise to grip Eddie's shirt, one moving farther up to card into Eddie's wild curls eliciting a groan from the other man, he squeezes Steve even tighter and lifts him slightly and it's like the same electric thought sparks in their minds at the same time.

Eddie bends down while keeping his mouth connected to Steve and shifts both hands down to his thighs, just underneath the swell of his ass. Steve shifts his own grip to curl his arms around Eddie's neck as he’s lifted onto the counter behind him, Steve gasps at the feeling - no one’s ever manhandled him like this before.

Eddie takes the opportunity to lick into his mouth with a growl and Steve’s brain shorts out with a moan. Eddie smiles into the kiss and slows down, he tilts his head one last time and grazes his teeth lightly over Steve’s bottom lip before pulling back slightly.

He leans in again to run his nose over Steve’s and breathes out a shaky sigh.

Steve’s eyes must have closed at some point during the kiss, they lazily flutter open to find Eddie staring at him, he has a small shy smile on his face, one he would normally hide behind a handful of curls, but this one is in full view.

Just for Steve.

“Hi,” Eddie whispers, his hands remain curled around the place where Steve’s thighs connect to his ass, they rest just above the counter where Steve is still perched.

I love you…

Steve shakes the thought away, it's much too soon to say these things, he doesn’t want to make the same mistake he had with Nancy. The undercurrent of worry is still there, as is the small wretched voice that tells him in its slippery sibilant tongue, ‘you don't deserve nice things, nice things never stay nice for long…

He shivers and tries to send his own shy smile Eddie’s way; Eddie seems content to simply bask in it and Steve can’t help the pang that runs through him.

Are you sure about me?

Steve slips his hands from Eddie’s neck and up to his face, pulling him closer to lean their foreheads together, “Kisses make you sappy huh Munson?” he eventually says, breaking the soft silence.

“Something like that,” Eddie hums.

Steve licks his lips, trying to ignore how Eddie’s eyes follow the motion of his tongue, “can, can we talk a little?”

It's happening quickly, maybe a little too quickly and he feels like he can't keep up. He feels like his heart might burst from his chest at any moment, he feels completely unsure of himself.

He feels, he feels, he feels.

“Yeah, gotta finish that tour I asked for don’t we, maybe in the morning though it's getting late?” Eddie's eyes widen as he thinks about the implication in his words, “if-if I can stay, or I can go, or whatever?"

A soft smile blooms over Steve’s face, this time Eddie's nerves settle him slightly, at least he's not the only one now.

And maybe it's enough, to step past his own fears…

For now at least.

“I think," Steve whispers, "I'd like that actually, if you stayed”.

The look Eddie gives him is equal parts incredulous and jubilant, like Steve has offered him the moon.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

“Of course sweetheart" Eddie murmurs as he steps back slightly and grips Steve's hips to help him slip off the counter, "lead the way”.

Eddie follows behind Steve closely as they turn off the lights and make their way upstairs, his heartbeat ticks up as he realizes he hasn't had anyone up here like this since Nancy.

Shit.

"Uh, wait, can you give me a sec?" Steve asks as he turns to Eddie, a light pink blush settles across his cheekbones and ears.

Eddie laughs and nods, quirking an eyebrow as Steve jumps the last two steps, wincing as he lands on his sore ankel, and flings open his bedroom door, "You know I've seen your room before right Stevie?"

Steve laughs breathlessly as he grabs discarded shirts and underwear from the floor, kicking a pair of jeans under the bed, "I know, I know, just two seconds!"

Eddie snorts from the landing but doesn't continue forward.

Steve opens his closet and tosses an armful of clothes before turning to the bed and quickly pulling up the sheets and righting the pillows once more.

He scans the space one last time and breathes out a sigh, not great but definitely not as bad as it had been, "okay, you’re good!" He calls out to the hallway.

He hears Eddie make his way towards the door and pokes his head past the frame, he sends Steve a filthy grin, "oh yeah Harrington, I don't know how you live with yourself".

"There's always the couch Munson," Steve huffs as he turns and walks towards the chest of drawers against the far wall.

Two arms draw him in against a solid chest, Eddie hooks his chin over Steve's shoulder and nuzzles his nose into the space just below Steve's ear, "Apologies Sir Steve, please don't banish me to the couch," Eddie pleads as his hands drag up and down Steve's bare arms, the touch makes him shiver.

"Thin ice," Steve mutters without heat, he resumes going through the drawer and hands Eddie a pair of sweats.

"Bathroom?"

"Two doors down on the left," Steve says as he pulls the shirt he's wearing over his head, tossing his hair out of his eyes as he turns around to see Eddie openly staring.

He's suddenly very aware of the scars littering his body, including the two large matching Demobat bites on his abdomen, the skin itches the more Steve thinks about it. He clears his throat and quickly grabs another shirt from the open drawer.

Eddie blinks, shifting his stance slightly, "you uh, yeah, bathroom, right". He turns around on his heel stiffly and walks out of the room leaving Steve puzzled and nervous.

By the time Eddie returns Steve has changed, switched the main overhead light for the small bedside lamp which bathes the room in a soft yellow glow, and crawled under the covers.

His back is to the door when he hears Eddie walk in. Steve's heart pounds in his chest, his stomach churns as he feels the bed dip behind him, the silence is deafening in this moment.

"Come here Stevie," Eddie murmurs, "I can practically hear you thinking all the way over there," he reaches over and gently tugs Steve's shoulder until he's rolling over to face the metal-head.

"There you are," Eddie breathes out, he reaches up to cup Steve's face again and smiles but there is a hint of hesitance that hasn’t been there before, "this still okay sweetheart?"

Steve nods and shifts closer towards Eddie and his warmth.

Robin has slept over before, as have the kids, but usually everyone sleeps in the living room, taking over the space with sleeping bags or couch surfing --depending on the numbers.

It's been years since he's shared his space this way.

It would be so easy to fall into this, let it happen suddenly and all at once, pull Eddie closer, kiss him like his life depended on it, throw back the covers and share another part of himself tonight.

Eddie cards his fingers through Steve's hair, he closes his eyes at the touch.

He wants, he wants so much.

But this is terrifying and new.

"I got you," Eddie murmurs, he hasn't come closer since rolling Steve over, which helps with the growing anxiety coursing through Steve, "you gonna let me take care of you?"

Fuck.

"No".

Eddie blinks, his eyes dart back and forth between Steve's own as his eyebrows furrow, "Okay, that's fine we don't--"

"You're not, you don't, you're not responsible for me," the words stop and start, Steve fights each one that slips out, trying to claw them back down his throat before they escape, "It's not like I even deserve it…"

The way Eddie's face absolutely drops makes Steve want to fling himself down the stairs, idiot.

"Sweetheart," Eddie says in the slow deliberate way he had downstairs, "you saved my life, it's not like I'm going to forget about that?"

Steve stills, a sweeping wave of vertigo hits him across the chest, disorienting him as the words fully register, he closes his eyes and rolls to his back facing the ceiling.

"Who told you?"

Eddie sighs, "Does it matter?"

Steve sits up abruptly, crossing his arms in front of him tightly, the covers fall slightly, bunching up around his hips. His eyes narrow as Eddie brings his hands up and presses them into his eyes harshly.

"Dustin,” he says eventually, and Steve’s heart drops into his stomach at the admission, “the kid asked about my ribs, it slipped out that he was there when it happened, and I got it out of him eventually but--"

"Is that why you're here?” Steve nearly snarls, his one hand shakes as it grips the sheets, “Some weird," he gestures between them with the other, "obligation?"

"No--"

"Because I have enough shit to deal with,” the words fall out of his mouth like vomit, there’s no stopping them at this point, “without somebody that's just here because they think they have to be," Steve throws the covers back and makes to stand up.

"Steve! Jesus, just stop and listen for a second!" Eddie says, frustration saturating his tone as he shifts to reach out and put a hand on Steve’s bare arm. He doesn’t pull this time, just lets the digits rest gently against his skin. It’s enough to ground him slightly, he certainly feels less like he’s about to blow apart at any moment.

"Think Harrington,” Eddie murmurs, he hasn’t moved closer, seemingly content to extend himself to where Steve is perched on the edge of the bed, “when have I ever done something that I don't want to?"

And isn’t that the million dollar question.

"I want to be here, Hell, Wayne wants you to move in--"

What?

"...What?" Steve blurts out, he slowly brings his legs back up and away from the edge of the bed to turn back to face Eddie, whose ears are rapidly becoming as close to a bright cherry red colour as is humanly possible.

Eddie's breathes out, dropping his hand away from Steve’s arm, and leans forward until his elbows hit his knees, "fuck, this was supposed to be a different conversation, but fuck it," he raises himself back into a sitting position and reaches out to take Steve's hands into his own.

"You got a lot of shit to deal with?” Eddie says, squeezing Steve’s hands as he does, “That's what you said right? That includes the house right?"

Steve nods once, not daring to say anything, barely daring to breathe.

"Okay so just," Eddie shakes out a frazzled shrug from the top of his head down to his shoulders, "come move in with us".

Steve allows himself one self indulgent moment to hope for it, to see himself waking late on Sunday mornings in Eddie's arms, playing cards with Wayne in their kitchen, having dinner together in the evenings and watching movies on the weekends, just living with other people again for the first time in months, years really...

He shakes his head as though to toss the images away.

"I couldn't--"

"You absolutely could, I think you've been looking after yourself for so long that you don't know how to let someone else do it".

Steve slowly folds in on himself, his knees come up to press into his chest and his arms come up to wrap around them, “I know.”

“I don’t,” the words tangle roughly in his throat, catching on a lump that starts to form as his eyes prickle once again, “I’ve never had that,” he unclenches one hand from where its wrapped around his legs to press his heel into his eye.

Eddie sighs and brings a hand up to Steve’s chin, tilting his face up, forcing him to meet his warm brown eyes,"So just…let us try sweetheart, s'all I'm askin”.

The feeling of hope from earlier, that small whisper of possibility that had been nearly doused by Steve's own hand several times throughout the night, shines somewhere in the confines of his chest.

Eddie kept that flame alight by some small miracle.

“I’m sorry,” Steve mumbles, he pinches his nose and tries to swallow past the new lump in his throat, he's exhausted at this point and the hot sting behind his eyes and the ache of his tired muscles do nothing to help with the wave of emotions that threaten to overtake him once more.

Eddie chews his lip, his eyes trained on Steve's own, "I can't promise that I'll always be here because, who the fuck know what's going to happen --maybe I'll get carried off by Demobats or Vecna will get me by the short and curlies," Eddie reaches out to run the tips of his fingers across Steve's ribs, surprising another bark of laughter out of the other man, "but, Steve, you have to stop pushing me away".

Steve sits for a moment, lets the words sit with him.

He has been doing that.

He is doing that.

Why let someone get close enough to hurt you, that's how your heart gets ripped from your chest, it's best to push them out the door now before they can hurt you later.

Lonely sucks but at least it's a slow burn.

This is how he's lived for so long, Steve's not sure he even knows what to look for now, there's comfort in the familiar even if it's bad.

Steve knows that intimately.

He looks up to meet Eddie's gaze, he's sitting up against the headboard, Steve's light green Hawkins high sweats have bunched up at the ankles revealing pale skin and coarse hair, contrasting with the black Iron Maiden t-shirt he's still sporting.

He's quiet without the tinkling chains and glinting rings on his fingers, soft in Steve's bed.

It's everything Steve hasn't let himself want for so long.

Steve breathes in through his nose and releases it slowly out his mouth, he slowly shifts and crawls towards Eddie, pulling himself up to the headboard and curling into Eddie's side, who lifts his arm automatically to tuck Steve firmly against himself.

Steve doesn't pull away this time.

He leans his head back and presses a light kiss to the shell of Eddie's ear before tucking his face into his neck, long brown curls tickle his face as he does so.

"I'll try," Steve whispers after a beat into Eddies ear; tension he wasn’t even aware of ebbs away as he lets himself be held.

As Steve drifts off to sleep that night, wrapped in Eddie's arms, the room bathed in silver moonlight from the window, it finally feels like the breath he's been holding since 1983, since Nancy kicked him out of the Buyers house with a bloody palm and a loaded gun, since Billy nearly murdered him in the Buyers kitchen for protecting the kids, since Russians had kidnapped and tortured him and Robin, since meeting Eddie and being nearly eaten alive by demon bats.

Since Eddie nearly died in their arms.

Steve feels like he can finally breathe out.

Thank you so much for reading and commenting everyone, this is officially the longest thing I've ever written that I've actually managed to complete! I'm so proud of it and I really hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it <3

#stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things season 4 au #eddie lives #eddie munson #steve harrington #hurt steve harrington #bisexual steve harrington #steve harrington has trauma #let steve harrington cry #eddie munson is a sweetheart #stranger things fan fiction #afewproblems writes #part four #steve x eddie #steddie

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abybweisse · 8 months

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Ch203 (p4), Next to fledge

Of course, Mabel wants to get Ginny out of the tank, but we don't know if that would be good or bad. We don't know whether Ginny is even alive or dead. Theo can only stare in shock and horror.

Finny realizes things are even worse.

They can't do much else because staff are coming.

Thankfully, the staff don't seem to realize anything has been tampered with. They think everything has been "packed up" and is ready to go (or stay, idk).

But Susan (?) reminds them that Ginny's fledging was unexpected and asks who is next.

And ah. Now we know why Theo is so scared.

What will these top students do now, knowing that Theo is next to fledge? I guess that largely depends on how much time they have....

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #chapter release #chapter review #chapter analysis #theo #ginny #mabel #snake #snake's snakes #finny #finnian #fol orphanage #orphanage #part four #part 4 #aug 18 2023 #tw: body horror #tw: nudity

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blmpff · 2 months

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✨ Various Tropes: Cuddles (4/?) ✨

TITLES IN ORDER: 1. History 2: Crossing the Line (2018) 2. 3 Will Be Free (2019) 3. Friend Zone 2 (2020) 4. Gaya sa Pelikula (2020) 5. Tinted With You (2021) 6. The Tasty Florida (2021) 7. Cherry Blossoms After Winter (2022) 8. My Secret Love (2022) 9. Something in My Room (2022) 10. Step by Step (2023) 11. Kiseki: Dear To Me (2023) 12. Pit Babe (2023)

#history 2: crossing the line #3 will be free #friend zone 2 #gaya sa pelikula #tinted with you 2021 ahahahaha #the tasty florida #cherry blossoms after winter #my secret love the series #something in my room 2022 #step by step the series #kiseki: dear to me #pit babe the series #various tropes #cuddles #part four #blmpff

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messyyythoughts · 5 months

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sands of zion, part 4.

fallout: new vegas Joshua Graham x female courier reader

author’s note: i am tipsy, have this xxx

summary: the Dead Horses want to move against the White Legs, but Joshua doesn’t expect the consequences...

warnings: war antics, the usual fallout: new vegas violence warning lol

••●••••●••••●••

since your conversation about Caesar, Joshua Graham had been watching you closely. you hadn’t mentioned or even inferred anything about Caesar since, treating the name like a fatal curse if spoken aloud. you seemed sober compared to how Joshua saw you before that conversation. where you’d take the time to talk with the Dead Horses each day and learn new words, now you stayed quiet and only spoke when spoken to. in Angel’s Cave you avoided others, and politely regarded Joshua when he was nearby. you spent days doing nothing, sleeping in your bed or walking up and down the river.

it was as if merely talking about Caesar had taken the very spirit from you. and Joshua hated it. every day he awoke hoping that his prayers had been answered to find you back to your old self, but each day that passed he found himself losing faith in his God. if ghosts were real, then he was watching one walk around his camp that looked remarkably like you. Follows-Chalk had made several attempts at communicating with you, but nothing could get your mind off of the evil that was Caesar waiting for you back in the Mojave. how his assassins hadn’t made it here yet you didn’t know, and it made you overly paranoid. they could be watching, waiting in the shadows, seeing how far you could get before they grabbed you. you’d refused to leave the camp for anything that wasn’t immediately life or death business, and it was beginning to irritate the Dead Horses. if they got that annoyed with you, they could show you the way home and you’d never bother them again. but, there was still the problem of the White Legs to deal with before any of the inhabitants of Zion would show you the way home, so you had to deal with it soon. one day, amidst your paranoia, you awoke to loud, shouting voices coming from outside of Angel’s Cave. you didn’t decipher any of the speech clearly at first, then you heard your name being thrown around. darting out of bed, you grabbed your rifle, forgoing your trench coat or outdoor clothes, and burst out into the sunlight in your sleeping clothes. Follows-Chalk was stood against a group of Dead Horses members, attempting to placate them as they stared at you with anger in their eyes. Joshua was nowhere to be seen. your eyes scanned the river before you lowered your rifle. “what is all of this about?” you asked quietly, though you feared you knew anyway. “we can talk about this in a calm way–” Follows-Chalk began, but the voices rose against him faster than he could handle. you picked out a few words, and understood that they were complaining of your idleness in the recent weeks, and the threat of the White Legs you were meant to be aiding Joshua in eliminating. your lips pressed together in mild embarrassment, but you really could care less, because they had no idea who Caesar was and what he was going to do to you the moment this war was over. “send her to the White Legs if she’s so scared of them! we are ready to fight them, why won’t Joshua Graham make the move?” one woman yelled, anger distorting her features. the funny thing was that all of these women had braided your hair, taught you words and shared their food with you a handful of times before. now you were their worst enemy, save the White Legs. Follows-Chalk was doing his best, but you knew he was no match for angry women. the men stood further back, shooting you disapproving glares. they’d seen you as one of them many times, but now you were no better than a child. you put a hand on Follows-Chalk’s arm, and his worried eyes met your dead ones. you nodded and he stepped back, closing his mouth. you faced the group, eyeing up each one. “if you want to move against the White Legs, I will speak to Joshua Graham.” your words only did the bare minimum to quiet their anger. at the rise of more voices, you held up a hand. “do not forget that it has been me who has rescued one of your children, defeated dozens of your enemies and fought for all of you with my life many times over.” your voice was raised, built on a foundation of disbelief at their words. “I will finish this war, but not if you disrespect me any further. am I clear?” they all went silent, watching you. “am I clear?” you yelled, snapping. the women’s heads dropped and they moved back. the men bristled at your tone. “be ready to fight with your lives, if you can do that.” you looked at each one of them in the eyes, and felt every one of them staring into your soul. Follows-Chalk followed you quietly into Angel’s Cave as you sighed and held in a desperate scream of frustration. you barely remembered the last few weeks, it had been a big blur of nonsense. you’d finally realised how soon you were going to face Caesar and lose your life in the process, and yes, you had others depending on you, but they didn’t know half of what your life had been. “do you know where Joshua is?” you asked Follows-Chalk, as you unpacked your belongings in preparation for the fight of your life, which would soon be overshadowed by the fight you’d bring to Caesar. “he is making final preparations for the attack, or at least that is what he told me.” you nodded, smoothing your hair away from your face and sighing heavily. “thank you for trying to save my reputation back there,” you said, “it wasn’t worth it but at least they’ll fight alongside me now.” Follows-Chalk was at your side, a worried look on his sweet face. his hand rested on your shoulder. “what troubles you, Courier? you have been a ghost since...” Follows-Chalk didn’t finish his sentence because footsteps approached. your heads both swivelled to meet the owner, and it was Joshua. he seemed surprised to see you up and awake, organising your things nonetheless. “we can talk later.” Follows-Chalk eyes searched yours for any hint of a smile, and even though you faked one, it didn’t fool him. he’d grown to know much about you personally since meeting you, and that smile wasn’t like the ones he’d seen from you before. he walked away, feeling something uneasy about you. ••●••••●••••●•• you filled Joshua in on the near-uprising against you, and he agreed that a move against the White Legs was looking favourable. you both stood at his desk, moving around it as you mapped out the White Legs territory from several scout reports. Joshua didn’t mention your behaviour recently, he was just satisfied that his prayers had been answered at last, and content to be enjoying your company once again. you went back and forth all evening, hypothesising the best formations and plans. you briefly paused the debates to make dinner and start inventory of all the weapons available to the Dead Horses. there was a lot, the scouts had done well, and Joshua had tracked down some pre-War technology that had been made useful by tinkering and experimenting. the sun went down, and Joshua gave the order to be ready to move out at first light. you continued planning, poking holes in each other’s ideas, before you settled on one of Joshua’s plans. you liked it, it had the least chance of failure, and it would get you into the White Legs camp where you could do the most damage. the necessary Dead Horse members were informed of the plan, and you both tried to get some sleep. Joshua resorted to studying his holy book at some point in the night, and you had started to clean your rifle and organise your trench coat with its many pockets. neither of you spoke as you knew it would only serve as a temporary distraction from the real thing that would be upon you in a few hours. as the sky began to change with the rising sun, you both got changed and checked weapons one last time. you were attempting to braid your hair out of the way but it proved hard with a scattered mind. you gave up and let it sit behind your shoulders, sat on your old camping bed, when Joshua’s voice broke the silence of Angel’s Cave for the first time in hours. “may I...?” your eyes landed on him, and he was stood at the end of your bed, looking at your hair. you nodded and took off your hat, smoothing your hair down. he knelt behind you, taking your hair in three sections and beginning the braid. it was the simplest one, but it kept your hair out of your face. you sat there, staring at the walls of the cave and imagining your death. would a White Leg grab and slash your throat open? a stray bullet? an explosive? a brutal fist fight to the death? you didn’t even notice that Joshua was long finished the braid, and was still knelt behind you, just waiting. he was probably thinking, too. you turned around, facing him. the sight of him on his knees might’ve elicited a different reaction from you in a different life, but now it just made you sad. deeply and utterly sad. he looked up at you, and you looked down at him. “we’re losing time.” you said softly, feeling a strange knot in your throat. “we are.” Joshua watched as you stood up, slinging your rifle over your shoulder and leaving the cave. he stood, watching after you.

••●••••●••••●••

the atmosphere in the camp was different to that in the cave. where there’d been a sober silence broken only by a few meaningless words, out here there was a flurry of activity. shouts and chants rang out, splashing water, weapons colliding. last minute training and conversations went down at the same time, each Dead Horse member preparing in their own individual way to face the enemy. the elders and healers were blessing the warriors with marks and paint on their bare skin. some even began blessing the weapons held by the warriors, bathed in early morning light. you went to walk past the elders, who you assumed held dislike for you since your outburst yesterday, but one woman stopped you. she held out her hands, covered in paint, and you took off your hat, kneeling down for her. she was short and unassuming in appearance, but one look at her face told you that she’d seen more than you’d ever comprehend. her fingers danced over your face, making a mask of a warrior, and blessing you. she took your rifle from your hand and painted that too. a feeling of something you couldn’t quite explain went over you, like hands running through your hair, or a mother’s touch. suddenly, the old woman smiled, before turning away. she left you there feeling bewildered, strangely empowered, and ready to face the White Legs.

Joshua Graham had been watching the scene unfold from the entrance to Angel’s Cave. for some time now he had believed you to be a blessing sent by his God, or a divine being who he just happened to cross paths with. whatever you may end up being, he would spend the rest of his existence eternally grateful for you. the way you had accepted the Dead Horse tribe as your own, adhering to their customs and way of life so quickly. it may not have been your first port of call when you realised you were trapped here, but you soon realised what had to be done to survive, and Joshua could appreciate that.

he joined you by the river, taking the sight of you in before speaking.

“I see you have been blessed, by one of our oldest healers no less.” he could barely contain his urge to smile at you from beneath the bandages. you looked so proud for a moment, watching your reflection in the water. then you came back to reality. your brilliant eyes met his, and you looked away again.

“she does me a great honour, I can almost… feel her with me, or someone watching over me. maybe your God has time to watch over both of us today.” Joshua’s chest tightened when you spoke of his God.

“if He is willing, everyone here shall be watched over, and protected.” Joshua wanted to say more, but stopped himself. he could not let these feelings interfere with his mind right before battle. you were staring at the river water once again, then you spoke quietly.

“if He is indeed willing, we will live to wash in this river tomorrow. we all will.”

••●••••●••••●••

Joshua gave a short speech worthy of a war chief to the Dead Horses. those who would not be fighting would stay here, hidden in Angel’s Cave until either the return or retreat of the warriors and scouts of the Dead Horses. you stood there in silence, pushing the image of Caesar out of your mind and instead replacing it with that of the White Legs. they were your problem today, not some tyrant in the Mojave, which you had no feasible way of returning to yet. it hadn’t occurred to you that once this was over, you’d either be dead, kidnapped or alive and on your way home to the Strip to face Caesar. it felt horrible to admit, but you were starting to think which of the three options had the best outcome…

Joshua Graham was at the front of the crowd, leading the Dead Horses into battle. they gave off war cries and other unfamiliar sounds as you all waded up the river, but once out of the camp, silence fell like a blanket across each and every one of them. you were bringing up the rear, you and Joshua had agreed that it was best you stayed split up, for many reasons. you recalled the conversation in question, one that had happened amongst the planning and strategising.

“and if one of us goes down?” you raised an eyebrow and Joshua leaned back in his chair.

“then we stay separate for the battle, as long as we can. should one of us fall, the other will assume command.” he offered up. that seemed satisfactory to you.

“alright, I’ll take the rear, you be up front.” you said, to which his eyes barely widened, but you still caught it. “what’s wrong with that?” you asked, leaning over the paper which detailed your plans and formations. Joshua watched you lean, and resisted the urge to touch your hair that was loose over your shoulder.

“I am simply surprised that you would volunteer to take the rear, that is all.” he replied, after taking his eyes off of you. he could watch you pour over battle plans and maps while sat on his desk until the day he died.

“well, you are the war chief. what good are you in the back?” you'd smiled at him before sketching in your position in charcoal on the paper. he’d watched you, imagining you on the battlefield the next day, victorious.

now, as you watched the Dead Horses march determinedly towards the White Legs camp, you wondered if Joshua had wanted you up front with him. would it have looked fiercer? more intimidating? perhaps, but your plans had been finalised last night, and this was not the time to go changing them. you instead counted your steps and watched the feet in front of you to distract you. so far the march had gone uninterrupted, but you had some distance before White Leg territory began. then you’d be in trouble.

••●••••●••••●••

Joshua Graham halted the march as you reached your destination. just past this trail was the last known White Leg camp, as reported by Dead Horse scouts days ago. this was it. you quickly worked your way up front to speak to Joshua. he seemed ready for battle, for war.

“Joshua, we haven’t seen a single White Leg, something isn’t right.” you whispered to him, mouth right next to his ear. he did not react to your worrying statement, but instead loaded his pistol. “Joshua, did you hear me?” you demanded, slinging your rifle down your shoulder.

“we cannot back down now, even if every single living White Leg is waiting for us in that camp. we fight here and now, God willing.” Joshua replied, not looking you in the eyes. you put a desperate hand on his arm. he went still.

“are you sure we can win this? if every single one of them is in there, armed to the teeth? with the high ground?” Joshua’s cold blue eyes finally met yours. his gaze felt entirely alien to you now.

“you aren’t abandoning the fight before it’s even began, are you, Courier?” you hold his gaze, but let go of his arm.

“I’d follow you almost anywhere, Joshua, but if this becomes a bloodbath, I beg of you… order them to retreat.” Joshua’s eyes slipped away from yours and down to his pistol.

“if this becomes a bloodbath, we won’t be on the wrong side.” with that, he raised his pistol in the air, rallying the Dead Horses. you ran back to the rear, shaking your head and sweeping sand from your hat. you loaded your rifle up, and followed Joshua Graham and his Dead Horses into the White Legs camp.

and it was a bloodbath. on both sides.

the second the White Legs realised what was happening, they had the jump on you. the Dead Horses fought hard and some, to the death, to advance into the main camp and start taking out the entirety of the White Legs tribe. you took out any sneaky attackers who attempted to cut you off from behind, but soon there were so many even you were struggling to drop them all with your rifle. close combat became the norm within minutes, and you were facing off against strong, bloodthirsty warriors with insane melee weapons. you couldn’t ever imagine the gangs in the Mojave fashioning these creations up, they lacked the imagination for one, and the sheer insanity for two. though many of the weapons you went up against seemed impractical, the White Legs wielded them with skill and ferocity that you hadn’t seen before. you started questioning if you were ever going to survive this. why didn’t Joshua hang back and think things through? why did he insist on charging in without knowing the odds? because he was Legion once, just like Caesar, and the arrogance of the Legion never truly leaves you. he is the Burned Man, of course he couldn’t wait to finish this war—

a loud boom, the earth shaking, you flying briefly then colliding with rock. hands on your throat, your rifle snatched from your arms. the White Legs had set off grenades, killing some of their own, but killing more of yours. coughing and sputtering against the warrior who had you by the neck, you kicked out, but they forced your legs apart and had you pinned hard against the canyon wall. it wasn’t a bad way to go, dying in battle, at least you died doing something worthwhile in this world. a clean shot entered and exited the warrior’s head, and you dropped to the sand. you didn’t have to look up to see who pulled that off, because he was already coming. he had you up on your feet, leaning on him, rifle back in hands. his voice was all around you, but you knew he was there, somewhere. you found your feet, standing up and letting go of him, and took aim.

one down. two, then three. Joshua snuck off, taking out more White Legs from behind. the Dead Horses were fighting bravely, taking on two or three White Legs at a time. you helped the best you could, dropping the odd White Leg warrior here and there. but soon you were spotted, and on the move again. knives in hand, you took as many White Leg melee fights as you could get. Joshua was still shooting somewhere across the camp, his shots evenly timed and most likely hitting their mark each time. Follows-Chalk spotted you across the camp, and made his way over, taking down White Legs as he went. for how soft he could be, he was downright lethal in battle. as he neared you, you realised with a start that he was covered from head to toe in blood. his markings were barely visible beneath.

“is the blood yours?!” you demanded, open-mouthed in shock.

“never mine!” he answered simply, moving you aside and clubbing a White Leg in the back of the head. a scream from somewhere made you freeze, and you saw a Dead Horse warrior die to a White Leg who wore a scary helmet and wielded a power fist. Follows-Chalk returned to your side, panting but still raging. “Salt-Upon-Wounds, the White Leg leader. you must kill him, without him they will die!” you were about to protest when a White Leg charged you, and took you to the ground. Follows-Chalk had him off of you in seconds, swinging his club with a war cry. you rolled out of the way, letting Follows-Chalk kill the White Leg, and took aim again with your rifle but Salt-Upon-Wounds was gone. he was just there. you scanned the battlefield with your scope, bloodshed was happening everywhere, but where was their leader?

“he’s gone! where is he?” you shouted to Follows-Chalk, but he was gone too. the ever-changing nature of battle meant you were now alone, again. you skirted around skirmishes and takedowns, reaching the spot where you’d first laid eyes upon this Salt man, but all he’d left behind was blood and death. the grisly sight of the Dead Horses falling on the battlefield hurt your soul. how would they ever carry out their after-death rituals if they lay abandoned on a cursed battlefield? you ducked reflexively as a machete narrowly missed your neck. one shot to the chest from below and your attacker fell, dead. your eyes scanned the camp again, raging with the sounds of war. you were sure that you’d never forget the sounds, even after returning to the chaos of the Strip.

an arrow whizzed past, just missing your face, you ducked down and ran, taking shelter behind a boulder. you aimed your rifle over the boulder, and spotted the archers hidden further in the camp, high up in the cliffs. that was why your warriors were falling so quickly, archers were picking them off! you steadied yourself and took aim again, within minutes all of the archers you could spot were dead, bodies hanging limp on the cliffs with single bullet holes in their heads. the Dead Horses began to fight back harder, now unburdened by arrows, and out for revenge for fallen brothers and sisters. you’d lost sight of Joshua a while ago, and Salt-Upon-Wounds had disappeared. you joined up with whichever Dead Horse you came across in battle, your kill count for the day reaching double digits. soon, the camp became a much smaller battlefield as the White Legs started backing themselves into corners.

you helped a Dead Horse member overpower a White Leg wielding a club, firing off another shot as another White Leg charged at you. they were getting desperate. they were beginning to fray. the Dead Horses were making a comeback, using the White Legs own weapons against them now. your eyes focused in on a flash of white becoming visible from the back of the camp, then your heart dropped into your feet. Joshua Graham was fighting Salt-Upon-Wounds, one-on-one, hand-to-hand.

••●••••●••••●••

you took aim, but the two were moving too wildly for you to confidently pull the trigger. you didn’t dare ask Joshua’s God for any more help, so you rallied the Dead Horses to you, and those who came were ready. you took them towards the back of the camp, flattening any White Legs that stood in your way. Salt-Upon-Wounds saw you approaching, and you went down to one knee, rifle aimed. Salt-Upon-Wounds held Joshua Graham by the neck, and God knows where his trusty pistols had gone. Joshua’s clear blue eyes bored into Salt-Upon-Wounds’s. your finger went to pull the trigger again, but Joshua was now in your sights, forced to stand before Salt-Upon-Wounds like a human shield. you lowered your rifle slowly.

“call off your warriors, or Joshua Graham dies!” Salt-Upon-Wounds announced, the battlefield stood still for the first time. you made a sound that told the Dead Horses to stand down, and they reluctantly did. “good girl. lower your weapons, all of you!” the remaining Dead Horses gathered around you did not move, instead they watched you. they were waiting for your move, and they would follow.

“do as I do, or we lose.” you whispered to them in their dialect, and it was passed around quickly. you threw your beloved rifle to the sand, and your knives, and the Dead Horses followed. they did not protest, they did it silently, they did it with you. for you. Salt-Upon-Wounds began walking towards you, still holding Joshua captive in his grip, a power fist on his free hand, already shiny with blood.

“you, outgirl, listen to me. I take Joshua Graham’s life, then the Dead Horses. then you will be for me, but not for kill.” Joshua’s eyes hardened but one look from you told him to not respond. his job was to focus on surviving Salt-Upon-Wounds right now.

“why not kill me?” you asked, lowering your hands and taking a step forwards. Salt-Upon-Wounds tightened his grip on Joshua. “do you know who I am, Salt-Upon-Wounds?” you let your hands rest on your belt. you could feel exactly what you needed.

“I see a outgirl who fights.” Salt-Upon-Wounds said after a moment, he was not big on talking, you realised.

“I am the Courier, I control the Strip in the Mojave and your leader, Caesar, wants me dead.” Salt-Upon-Wounds’s body tensed. “he is your leader, isn’t he?” Salt-Upon-Wounds threw Joshua to the sand, angry.

“Caesar… wants you. I give him you, and kill Joshua.” Salt-Upon-Wounds let Joshua’s shirt go, and raised the power fist. Joshua began to roll, you reached into your trusty belt, pulled out a small knife and launched it in Salt-Upon-Wounds’s direction. it landed in his face, he recoiled and stumbled backwards, yelling. you dove for Joshua, grabbing him and hauling him back towards the Dead Horses. the remaining White Legs watched in horror as Salt-Upon-Wounds was injured by an outsider. Follows-Chalk grabbed Joshua, but as you went to get up, you were dragged backwards.

you made fleeting eye contact with Follows-Chalk, then Joshua as you were flipped over by Salt-Upon-Wounds. the Dead Horses picked up their weapons as the remaining White Legs attacked. you saw the power fist coming, time slowed, Salt-Upon-Wounds pinned you down with his legs and yelled with pure rage as he brought the fist down. you reached up, twisting the small knife still embedded in his face. blood spurted out, showering you. you yanked the knife out, the shock gave you time to get it from under Salt-Upon-Wounds, but he was still bringing the power fist down.

you felt the dull heavy impact on your hand first. then the pain of your hand bones being shattered to pieces took over. your entire arm was throbbing from the impact. you were screaming but you couldn’t hear it. Salt-Upon-Wounds revelled in your pain, and raised the fist again. you clutched the small knife in the other hand, panting, tears forming in your eyes. he roared from above you, bringing the fist down in one big overhead swing. you whipped your good hand quick, and the knife flew. it skimmed the power fist and landed between Salt-Upon-Wounds’s eyes.

you were crying as Salt-Upon-Wounds’s stiff body went limp, the weight of the power fist dictating his fall. the power fist met the side of your head as you desperately tried to escape from under the now dead weight, and you were out cold.

••●••••●••••●••

Joshua stopped believing in his God right then and there. he was already up on one knee, but Follows-Chalk, fuelled by the fear of the power fist caving your face in, threw Salt-Upon-Wounds’s corpse off of you. the side of your face was open, blood pouring out. Follows-Chalk had his arms under you already, lifting you up and calling out for a healer. the surviving Dead Horses surrounded you, reaching out and touching your bare skin with their hands. a sign of respect, a collective hope that you would survive this gruesome injury and live to recount the battle around a campfire full of Dead Horse children, reunited with their families. Joshua’s mind was making his body move, but he had absolutely no awareness of it. it was as if someone else was taking charge of him physically as he worried about you.

Follows-Chalk sent any remaining Dead Horse scouts forward to call for the healers, the warriors remained with you, escorting those who had survived the battle back to the Dead Horse camp. Joshua walked in step with Follows-Chalk, eyes never leaving your body. he offered to take you from Follows-Chalk several times on the march home, but he refused, determined to get you home alive. healers came rushing up the river, war-torn bloodied scouts in tow. the old woman was there, stood in the river, a serious look on her face.

Follows-Chalk set you down in the river, holding you there so the old woman could examine you. she spoke harshly to her other healers in Dead Horse dialect, Joshua Graham listened but for the first time, he couldn’t translate the words in his head. the old woman bent down in the river, and her words seemed to move the water.

“the sky, the earth… we beg of you, as the blood of ours joins you, return her to us.” the other healers repeated the words, muttering under their breath, eyes closed. the old woman cupped her hands, pouring water over your open head wound. Joshua went to his knees watching the old healer work. the river welcomed him, he let it soak him through. Follows-Chalk also dropped to his knees gently in the river, copying the prayers of the healers.

soon, every Dead Horse member present was on their knees, praying and begging the land and sky to not take you from them. Joshua clasped his hands, rattling off one last prayer to his God. then, as the old woman’s worn hands touched your cold ones, a jolt of something went through you. all you really remembered was the hot blood streaming down your face, tainting your vision red. now you looked up and saw clear blue skies, white dancing clouds and felt the hold of the river all around you.

the old woman rejoiced as your eyes flickered open, everyone was relieved, thanking their ancestors’ spirits and the land and the sky for not taking you. mercy had been granted today, but it would likely not be granted again. Joshua slowly moved towards you, the river pulling him. he took you from the old healer’s hold, and sat you up out of the river. you looked around, surprised at being back in camp. hadn’t you just been facing Salt-Upon-Wounds...?

without another word, Joshua stood, carrying you up the river, and into the safety of Angel’s Cave. the healers did not use the same medicine that you were so used to in the Mojave, but Joshua was familiar with the basics. now that he had you alive, he intended to keep you that way. he carried you to his camp bed, carefully setting you down. he lit the campfire, taking off your wet clothes with as much dignity he could give you. he covered you in furs, then as your eyes danced in and out of consciousness, began stitching up the gash on your head. he knew it wouldn’t beat a surgeon’s steady hand and some anaesthetic, but it was better to close the wound rather than let it become infected.

he worked for hours, having to stop his hands from shaking each time you winced or moved your head away. he’d unravelled the bandages from his hands, leaving them exposed to the open air. he told himself that the constant tingle that soon felt like he was burning all over again, was nothing compared to this open wound on your head. you probably had one Hell of a headache too. he could really only pray that your brain had remained unscathed. he then carefully began to wrap your broken hand, though you had no real feeling down there and barely reacted.

Follows-Chalk, now clean of his enemies’ blood, came to see how you were getting on. Joshua had just about managed to finish the stitching to your head, if he ever forgot the sight of it, he’d be grateful. Follows-Chalk had the healers gather all of the herbs that could possibly help and brought them into the cave, Joshua had other ideas. he knew you’d found old world medicines in the Mojave, and often made more when out scouting for the Dead Horses. he told Follows-Chalk to search your bag, and he found the stash of Stimpacks.

Joshua hadn’t seen you use these in his presence. perhaps because you were trying not to invoke feelings of despair in him that no medicine would relieve his pain or mend his burns. Follows-Chalk, however, had seen you use these from time to time. admittedly, not often, but he knew how they worked.

“you push it into the skin,” he told Joshua, as you lay there, eyes closed and breathing shallow. “I think.” he added, absolving himself of any responsibility should this go wrong.

“I… I’ve seen this before, but rarely used them.” Joshua admitted. Follows-Chalk stared at the Stimpacks. another strange thing from beyond Zion.

“should we not use them?” Follows-Chalk asked, eyes lingering on your stitches.

“they’d help her…” Joshua began, when you opened your eyes and reached for the Stimpacks yourself. the two watched as you took one, jabbed it into your side, then removed it.

“done.” you sighed, handing it back to Follows-Chalk. “Follows, you’ve seen me use those before, don’t be scared of them.” you rolled onto your back and went to reach up to feel your stitches. Joshua’s hand caught your good hand and placed it back down to your side.

“I am no doctor, but we better leave those alone.” he said, thinking about how the stitches would turn out when they healed. if they healed. Follows-Chalk seemed to agree with the way he eyed up the stitches uneasily.

“there are no doctors left anymore anyway.” you mumbled, closing your eyes and rolling over to sleep. Joshua pulled the furs over you and stood up, clearing away his impromptu stitching kit. Follows-Chalk looked at you for a moment longer before standing, and approaching Joshua.

“Joshua Graham, I must ask you something.” Joshua paused, then turned to face Follows.

“what is it?” he asked, curious as to what Follows-Chalk could possibly have to ask him.

“when the Courier is recovered, I should be the one to take her back to the Mojave. do you think the same?” Follows-Chalk asked. Joshua was not expecting this question so he stalled for time by organising the medical inventory for a moment.

“I think that when the Courier leaves us, she should go alone once she reaches the Mojave.” Joshua said, giving Follows-Chalk a look. Follows-Chalk nodded, but in his head, he did not agree in the slightest. “she fell into our lives, and she has the right to walk back out as she arrived... alone.” Joshua knew he was lying to himself too, not just to Follows-Chalk. Joshua prayed for nothing more than to accompany you back to the Mojave and see how you live your life, but there was the not so small problem of the Legion, and your life did not have space for him… who knew who you had waiting for your safe return back on the Strip?

••●••••●••••●••

when you woke up, you had such a headache it made you sensitive to light and noise like some sort of mutated wasteland creature. Joshua had been asleep by the fire next to your camp bed, and when you sat up, holding your head, he came back to life. he brought you fresh water, handed you Stimpacks, ordered stacks of medicinal herbs from the healers. Follows-Chalk was in charge of the recovery of the fallen Dead Horses from the battle, so you didn’t see him for some time. you spent days in Angel’s Cave recovering, even then you weren’t sure you’d be fit to make the gruelling journey back to the Mojave anytime soon. your head hurt and your hand was still useless. Joshua felt both joy and despair at your predicament. he knew that you needed to get back to the Mojave soon, with Caesar and his Legion becoming an increasingly worrying problem, but when Joshua watched you sleep he saw your pained expression and knew you were in no fit state to travel. you barely moved your broken hand, he worried that it was beyond saving some days.

Follows-Chalk was surprised to see you still on the camp bed, huddled under the furs, stuck somewhere between heavy sleep and being consciously aware of the world. Joshua tried his hardest to get you to talk, drink water or even sit up, but each day you refused and fell back into a fitful sleep. it wasn’t until one night that Joshua finally found the strength to wake you. it had been a slow day, you’d tossed and turned and had bad dreams. the night was cold, cool. Joshua and Follows-Chalk took it in turns sitting with you, but you did not improve. Follows-Chalk left the cave to retrieve more bodies from the battlefield and transport them for proper burial with the other Dead Horse members, leaving Joshua on the night shift. at first, you were just whimpering in your sleep, Joshua had grown used to the sound, as much as it scared him. then you started to move. you jerked and shivered, the whimpering turned into incoherent words. Joshua shut his holy book and sat next to you, watching your face contort in your sleep. all of a sudden you were crying, repeating words over and over. Joshua couldn’t stand to watch, he reached out, a hand on your shoulder, but you didn’t wake. something had you stuck deep in your mind.

after several unsuccessful attempts to rouse you from sleep, Joshua pulled the furs away, his hands on your arms. he turned you onto your back, repeating your name over and over. you didn’t come out of sleep. he started to wonder if it was a seizure, or if he was about to lose you. he didn’t stop trying to wake you, and after he shook you by the shoulders, your eyes flew open and you sat up, gasping. relieved you weren’t dead, Joshua’s hands fell from you and he said a prayer. you threw the furs from your legs and checked that this was real, that this wasn’t a dream that turned into a nightmare. you’d had so many these past few days, unable to escape them. they bombarded you each time you closed your eyes. your eyes landed on Joshua praying and you began to worry that this was yet another dream.

“Joshua, Joshua, is this real?” you grabbed him by the face, leaning right into him. his clear blue eyes met yours, and his hands settled onto yours.

“this is real.” he took your trembling hands into his bandaged ones and held them tight. “I am real, you are real, we are real, we are here.” he told you, and you moved off the bed to be closer to him. he was real, thank the Lord. you ran your hands over the bandages and let the feel of them bring you back to the present.

“we… are real.” you decided, nodding as your hands went back to his face. “you are real, I am real.” Joshua nodded back, and you let your hands trail to his neck, then around him. he let you do it, just happy to be there. you had him in your arms, and he felt real and you felt real and you were finally free of the endless cycle of nightmares. Joshua’s arms then encircled you and you melted into him. your eyes closed but you did not slip back into the land of nightmares and horrors. you stayed there with him, safe.

“are you okay?” he asked, not pulling away.

“if you’re here… I think I am.” you replied, after thinking for a moment. words seemed to elude you sometimes, but it felt even worse now, since the battle.

“I will stay here then, with you.” Joshua said quietly, and you sighed in relief. you both sat like that for a moment, until Joshua’s arms managed to lift you into his lap and have you tucked in his chest. you watched the roaring fire behind, letting it soothe you back to sleep. when Joshua felt you go heavy, he lifted you up back into the camp bed, but climbed in with you. he removed his heavy SWAT vest, and his boots. in just his trousers he held you there in the single camp bed, furs covering you both, and prayed that your mind would heal as well as your stitches had.

••●••••●••••●••

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fallout joshua graham #messyyythoughts #fallout new vegas honest hearts #zion #joshua graham #courier six #female courier #Female Courier x Joshua Graham #sands of zion #part four #fnv

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