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#i think? i forget the requirements of a one shot
vanessagillings · 2 months
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I’m posting the ever-so-rare photo of myself alongside one of my characters based on my childhood because today is World Autism Acceptance Day, and I wanted to show my little corner of the internet who this particular autistic person is:  
I was officially diagnosed in February, at age 38 (I’m now 39). A lot of people thought I couldn’t be autistic.  Some people who know me in real life still don’t.  And until around 10 years ago, I didn’t think I could be either, because I was nothing like the stereotype media portrays. I was told that autistics lacked empathy (untrue), and never played make-believe (also often untrue) and only enjoyed STEM.  I was — and am — an empathetic artist -- and make believe?  I can spend days sketching finely bedecked bears brewing tea or carefully choosing the right words to weave tapestries of fiction — though perhaps my hyper focus was a bit of a red flag.  Even so, how could autism describe me?  I was a good student.  I got straight A's. I didn’t act out in class.  I can make eye contact…if I must.  And lots of girls hate having their hair brushed with an unholy passion, right?  Clearly I swim in sarcasm like a fish, so autism couldn't be why I was so anxious all the time, could it?
If someone had told me when I was younger what autism ACTUALLY is — instead of the nonsense I’d seen on screens — I would have seen myself in it.  I didn’t hear that autistics have sensory issues until I was in my mid-twenties, which is when I first began to really research autism symptoms, and I had almost all of them:  sensitivity to light, smells, fabrics, temperatures, textures, and certain touches, all of which make me feel anxious, I fidget (stim), I never know what the hell to do with my hands or where to look, I talk too little or too much, I have special interests, I have entire animated movies memorized shot-by-shot and can remember the first time and place I saw every movie I've ever seen but I often forget what I'm trying to say mid-sentence, I echo movies and tv shows (my husband and I have a whole repertoire of shared echolalias, making up about 20% of our conversations), I was in speech therapy as a kid, I have issues with dysnomia and verbal fluency, I toe-walk, I can't multitask to save my life, I like things just-so, I’m deeply introverted but not shy, I need to recover from all social interaction — even social interaction I enjoy — and I find stupid, every day things like grocery shopping, driving and making appointments overwhelming and intensely stressful, sometimes to the point where I struggle to speak.  It turns out, I am definitely autistic. My results weren't borderline. Not even close. And while these aren’t all of my challenges, and not everyone with these symptoms is autistic, it’s definitely something to look into if you present with all of these things at once. 
So why did it take me so long to get diagnosed? The same bias that exists in media threads through the medical community as well, and because I'm a woman who can discuss the weather while smiling on cue, few people thought I was worth looking into. Even after I was fairly certain I was autistic, receiving an official diagnosis in the US is unnecessarily difficult and expensive, and in my case, completely uncovered by my insurance.  It cost me over $4000, and I could only afford it because my husband makes more money than I do as a freelance illustrator — a job I fell into largely because it didn’t require in-person work; like many autists, I have been chronically underemployed and underpaid, in part due to physical illness in my twenties, which is a topic for another day.  But it shouldn’t be like this.  It shouldn’t be so hard for adults to receive diagnoses and it shouldn’t be so hard for people to see themselves in this condition to begin with due to misinformation and stereotypes. Like many issues in America, these barriers are even higher for marginalized groups with multiple intersectionalities. 
It’s commonly said that if you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person.  This is why it’s called a spectrum, not because there’s a linear progression of severity (someone who appears to have low support needs like myself might need more than it seems, and vice versa), but because every autistic person has their own strengths and weaknesses, challenges and experiences, opinions and needs.  No two people on the spectrum present in the same way.  And that’s a good thing!  No way of being autistic is inherently any better than any other, and even if someone on the spectrum struggles with things I don’t — or can do things I can’t — doesn’t make them more or less deserving of respect and human dignity.
But speaking solely for myself, the more I learn about autism, the happier I am to be autistic.  I struggle to find words and exert fine motor control, but my deep passion and fixation has made me good at art and storytelling anyway.  I find more joy watching dogs and studying leaf shapes on my walks than most people do in an entire day.  More often than not, the barriers I’ve faced weren’t due to my autism directly, but due to society being overly rigid about what it considers a valid way of existing.  My hope in writing this today is that maybe one person will realize that autism isn’t what they thought — and that being different is not the same as being less than. My hope with my fiction is to give autistic children mirrors with which to see themselves, and everyone else windows through which to see us as we actually are.
If you’re interested in learning more about autism or think you might be autistic, too, I recommend the Autism Self Advocacy Network  autisticadvocacy.org and the following books:
What I Mean When I Say I’m Autistic by Annie Kotowicz
We're Not Broken by Eric Garcia
Knowing Why edited by Elizabeth Bartmess
Unmasking Autism by Devon Price, PhD
Loud Hands edited by Julia Bascom
Neurotribes by Steve Silberman
(trigger warning: the last two contain quite a lot of upsetting material involving institutionalized child abuse, but I think it’s important for people to know how often autistic children were — and are — abused simply for being neurodivergent).
Thanks for reading 💛
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signedkoko · 4 months
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Oo could I request romantic Vees with a reader who's this famous singer/idol in Hell? (Think, way more than Fizzarolli-level famous)
Valentino | Velvette | Vox [Romantic]
In which you are one of the most popular performance artists in all of hell. Reader is female.
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Your name was more than just 'known'; it was plastered along buildings and chanted by millions
He was always scouting for personalities, following trends in people to see who he could drag down into his vicing grip
But you were untouchable, the first thing he couldn't command to their knees before him
Even so, if Val wanted to meet you, he could, and it was extremely new to the overlord to have to go out of his way to meet someone, but he felt it was worth it
He claims it was because you had possible talent, but those closest to him know he had a bit of a celebrity crush
Valentino is not one to be nervous; he would be direct when telling you that he wanted you, again and again, until you eventually granted him at least one night out, just the two of you
Once he has his chance, he'll pull out every stop just to hear you say that you'd like to see him again
He gets so distracted with you that he forgets the part about getting you into his company, eventually brushing it off by saying you 'didn't suit what he was looking for'
Avoiding being under his contract meant he could never command you, which meant he never had anything to be angry with you about
According to him, you were a role model for all the demons he owned
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Famous stars require famous stylists, and who better than Velvette?
You'd actually reached out to her personally, since a lot of her work inspired your current stylists, and you wanted an upgrade for your tour of hell
Idol's like you were the exact thing people like Velvette dreamed of having in their portfolio, and she insisted on meeting you so she could see what you were looking for
In all her years, she'd never met an idol so genuine—most were snobbish, greedy, or just told her to 'do whatever'
You came in with photos of things you liked, hell, even fabrics you preferred, and a set list of what your songs would look like in order
She was already in love
You get her personal creations, and she insists on being the one to tailor you herself
" Only the best for the best, right? "
She can feel her bitchy attitude melt, and though she gets extremely bothered when anyone interrupts your sessions together, you ground her
It's not long before you two become official, and while she can't follow you into the deeper rings of hell, she will always be sure to watch your performances in the background while she works
She constantly calls you 'doll', because she's always dressing you up
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Influences, aristocrats, idols—none of it was new to the king of social media
Everyone contacted him for their social management, or his team, at least
He didn't do much of the personal work himself; he had far too much on his plate, but he always checked on who was requesting his services
Mostly for the ego boost, knowing the image of so many self-proclaimed "stars'' relied on him
But there was also a list of people he wanted to work for, a list that brought his ego back down and told him he hadn't met his goals yet and had to try harder
You were at the very top
He'd seen a plethora of your performances recorded and reuploaded: best takes, most underrated performances, and unforgettable sets
But he'd never had the chance to see you live until he got a PR package regarding your newest album release
Him? It was certainly interesting to...no shot, you sent him hidden tickets for 'friends only'
He is not fangirling except maybe a bit; he's already cleared his schedule that evening so he can get there and making sure his outfit is cleaned up and ready
Your performance was out of this world, and he is beyond pleased when he is invited backstage to speak with you
There you were, taking off your earrings in your dressing room, smiling at him as if you were old friends
" How was the performance? I'm so glad you came. "
For a moment, hes almost worried you have the wrong person; he seems uncertain of what to say until you continue
" I heard you are hard to win over, so I figured I'd go all out before I ask if you'd consider running my new album compaigne? "
He acts cool, but when he gets home that evening, he is pumping his fist in the air and screaming
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Author's Note - I was thinking lilith-level famous, you are THAT girl... Thank you for requesting! I went for a fem! reader because it was no specified
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spirits-having-flown · 7 months
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“matthew, it is with heavy heart i say goodbye. the times we had together are honestly among the favorite times of my life. it was an honor to share the stage with you and to call you my friend. i will always smile when i think of you and i’ll never forget you. never. spread your wings and fly brother, you’re finally free. much love. and i guess you’re keeping the 20 bucks you owe me.” - matt leblanc
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“i am so grateful for every moment i had with you matty and i miss you every day. when you work with someone as closely as i did with matthew, there are thousands of moments i wish i could share. for now here's one of my favorites. to give a little backstory, chandler and monica were supposed to have a one night fling in london. but because of the audience's reaction, it became the beginning of their love story. in this scene, before we started rolling, he whispered a funny line for me to say. he often did things like that. he was funny and he was kind. 🤍🕊️" - courteney cox
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“oh boy this one has cut deep... having to say goodbye to our matty has been an insane wave of emotions that i've never experienced before. we all experience loss at some point in our lives. loss of life or loss of love. being able to really sit in this grief allows you to feel the moments of joy and gratitude for having loved someone that deep. and we loved him deeply. he was such a part of our dna. we were always the 6 of us. this was a chosen family that forever changed the course of who we were and what our path was going to be. for matty, he knew he loved to make people laugh. as he said himself, if he didn't hear the 'laugh' he thought he was going to die. his life literally depended on it. and boy did he succeed in doing just that. he made all of us laugh. and laugh hard. in the last couple weeks, i've been pouring over our texts to one another. laughing and crying then laughing again. i'll keep them forever and ever. i found one text that he sent me out of nowhere one day. it says it all. matty, i love you so much and i know you are now completely at peace and out of any pain. i talk to you every day... sometimes i can almost hear you saying "could you BE any crazier?" rest little brother. you always made my day... ❤️🕊️” - jennifer aniston
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“matty, thank you for ten incredible years of laughter and creativity. i will never forget your impeccable comic timing and delivery. you could take a straight line of dialogue and bend it to your will, resulting in something so entirely original and unexpectedly funny it still astonishes. and you had heart. which you were generous with, and shared with us, so we could create a family out of six strangers. this photo is from one of my favorite moments with you. now it makes me smile and grieve at the same time. i imagine you up there, somewhere, in the same white suit, hands in your pockets, looking around— "Could there BE any more clouds?” “ - david schwimmer
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“shot the pilot, friends like us, got picked up then immediately, we were at the nbc upfronts. then... you suggested we play poker and made it so much fun while we initially bonded. thank you for that. thank you for making me laugh so hard at something you said, that my muscles ached, and tears poured down my face every day. thank you for your open heart in a six way relationship that required compromise. and a lot of "talking." thank you for showing up at work when you weren't well and then, being completely brilliant. thank you for the best 10 years a person gets to have. thank you for trusting me. thank you for all I learned about grace and love through knowing you. thank you for the time i got to have with you, matthew.” - lisa kudrow
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friends cast remembers matthew perry 🤍🕊️
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florencemtrash · 6 months
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The Ballad of the Shadowsinger
Azriel x Reader Oneshot
“Because I’m waiting for my mate to call me home.” The Shadowsinger said, “Because I’m waiting to die.”
Warnings: ANGST with a happy ending, mentions of attempted SA and suicidal ideation (they're very brief, but please do read with caution)
Author's note: I finished this at 3am last night and I think it's pretty apparent... buuuuuut I'm going to post it anyway. Enjoy...
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The Shadowsinger arrived one winter night, curling into existence on the border of town like cream through coffee. Jadhan was only a boy at the time - painfully human with a broken leg that had never healed properly. The Midlands were a terrible place for a child to grow up - a place where the only thing more unstable than the ground was its sense of safety.
But things changed when the Shadowsinger arrived, bringing with him gold and the brutal violence required to scare off the bandits and murders that slipped in from the nearby Lordship. And when the Lord came for the Shadowsinger’s head, it was the fae male was the one who walked away from the fight. Except it wasn’t a fight. It was a slaughter.
Jadhan was thirty-seven now with three young boys that had come in a cluster, forcing their way into the world one after another. Sasha had never been quite pleased with him for that, but her love for her sons and her husband outweighed the pain and hardship in the end. 
The boys - Mikhail, Alzhar, and Zhik - ran around the tavern, ducking beneath tables and barstools while their height still allowed it. The Shadowsinger watched them with the faintest of smiles as they clambered about, begging for more attention from his shadows. 
There was little known about the Shadowsinger this deep into the Continent, but whispers still passed through the mouths of travelers at the inn. The most common piece of gossip was that he was a Prythian outlaw - banished to the Continent after attempting to kill his Lord. Jadhan didn’t know - and he figured he would never find out. 
The Shadowsinger was so quiet that no one even knew his real name. They all called him Shadowsinger - Shadow for short. He disappeared into the woods at night and stalked into town come morning, but give a shout at any time and he would be there, flying overhead like a black stormcloud. 
“On the house, Shadow.” Jadhan said, dropping the glass onto the sticky counter. Whisky neat, two fingers - just the way he liked it. 
The Shadowsinger picked it up, swirling the amber liquid around like he hoped it would start talking to him, “You say that every night.”
“That’s because a free drink is the least I could get you.” Jadhan tipped his head towards the rickety stage where the local songbirds were setting up. The singer, Phaedra, had her eyes on Shadow, sending love and gratitude his way like a flood, “Phaedra’s been telling everyone what you did for her. You know, with the Morois boy.” 
Shadow grimaced, taking his first sip. He grimaced again. The whiskey was home-brewed and tasted like it. Everyone in town said a shot of the stuff could kill a man, but Shadow was hardly a man, and more shadow than fae.
Lev Morois had had his eyes on Phaedra for a while now. And he didn’t like to be denied anything, especially women. Normally he traveled to the Lordship for his fill, and he would have been better off going there last night. Instead he’d forced his way into Phaedra’s home… and Shadow had made sure he’d never be able to hurt a woman like that ever again. 
“How old are your boys now, Jadhan?” His voice was deep and smoky.
The trio neared closer, as if they knew they’d been summoned. The eldest, Mikhail, nearly crashed into the countertop, forgetting he had to bend down now. A tendril of black shadow shot out, muffling the blow and corralling him back out onto the open dancefloor with the rest of the children. 
Jadhan sighed and rubbed at a burned spot on the counter, “Too old, and growing faster than weeds.” 
It was a sweet pain for Azriel to see the three brothers romping around. It was almost winter and soon enough they’d be wrestling in the frosted fields, shoving snow down each other’s shirts, and hurling it at each other's heads. 
When was the last time he’d seen his brothers? Cassian had stopped by twenty-five years ago, shocked and scared to see Azriel looking so wretched. The next time Azriel’s shadows had warned him, and they’d sent Cassian away.
Rhysand was a different story… he’d never forgiven Azriel for what he’d done - and rightfully so - but that didn’t make the pain any easier to swallow. That didn’t make Azriel miss them any less.
He tossed the rest back and, to Jadhan’s surprise, he let the barkeep refill it.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Phaedra’s voice crooned over the crowd, settling over drunk men and women like a warm blanket until it was time for their sober partners to drag them home. Those who were alone either settled into the hard booths for a nap or resigned themselves to a stumble home in the dark. They’d all make it to their beds in the end - The Shadowsinger would see to that.
He dropped a gold coin onto the counter - triple what the night’s libations actually cost. It was the briefest of stumbles that had Jadhan gripping onto the male’s shoulder and forcing him back into his seat. 
Azriel wasn’t drunk. It would take an ocean of human liquor to get a fae drunk and then some. But he was starting to feel something.
“I got a pinch of ambrose from a merchant passing through.” Shadow’s eyes snapped up to Jadhan, who only raised his hands in surrender, “Hey, hey, hey, I know you don’t drink my whiskey for the taste, so I thought I'd put something in there to remind you of home. Something to loosen you up like liquor is supposed to.” 
The Shadowsinger winced at that word: Home.
“Very well.” He said.
The boys had gone home with Sasha hours ago, and without them running about with their usual compatriots, the tavern seemed dull. Now was no longer the time for dancing and riotous laughter. Now was the time for the sad drunks and those who didn’t want to go home.
But Azriel wasn’t drunk and he desperately wanted to go home.
It was the shame that kept him rooted to the stool like a stubborn weed… that and Rhysand’s promise that if he ever laid eyes on Azriel again, he’d rip the wings off his back. 
Jadhan seemed to understand that about him, leaning over the counter on sturdy arms thick as tree trunks. His leg was still lame, always had been and always would be, but that had never held him back much.
“What’re you doing here, Shadow?”
His hazel eyes flickered up. 
“What’s it been? Twenty-five years you’ve been in town now?”
“Thirty. Exactly.” 
So that was why the Shadowsinger had drank so much that night. It was to commemorate the sad, terrible anniversary of his banishment to the Midlands.
“Don't you think that's long enough? I don’t mean any offense, but don't you have anywhere else to go? Friends? Family?”
The male gritted his teeth and Jadhan had the sinking feeling he'd just poked the bear.
“I thought I was wanted here.” 
“Of course you are. Hell, we’d all be dead or piss poor if it weren’t for you.” Jadhan shook his head, “I don’t know what you’re running from - if you’re a thief, a murderer, a treasonous bastard or all of the above-” 
Shadow flinched, actually flinched, and Jadhan knew it was all of the above.
“But whatever it is,” He continued, “I think you’ve made up for it.” 
Azriel stilled, shadows continuing to swirl around the wet, empty glass in front of him.
How he wished those words were true, but only a human would think thirty years was a long time. They were nothing if not optimistic.
“No. I haven’t.” Shadow said flatly. Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, until Jadhan finally sighed and went to clear the glass.
“I had a mate.” He whispered the words so quietly, Jadhan almost didn’t hear him. 
His thick eyebrows disappeared into his receding hairline. He didn’t know much about fae customs and the ones he did know about were often violent, strange, or both… usually both. But he had a great deal of respect for mating bonds and understood they were prized above all else to fae.
“Had?” 
Shadow’s lips flattened into a thin line and Jadhan could have sworn his eyes began to brim with years. 
The Shadowsinger nodded stiffly.
“Dead?”
Shadow gritted his teeth and nodded once more, wings drooping low enough to brush against the sawdust packed floor.
Jadhan sighed so deeply he seemed to shrink into himself, and Azriel was once again struck by how quickly humans aged.
Silver streaks were already beginning to color his temples and his leg was getting stiffer and stiffer each day. It wouldn't be long until he was forced to swallow his pride and buy a cane like Sasha had been suggesting.
It seemed like just yesterday Jadhan had limped his way into the woods, calling out for the Shadowsinger with a copper coin clenched in his fist and a bargain to make. 
Kill my father, and I will do anything you ask of me. Anything at all.
There had been such determination in the little boy’s body that Azriel hadn’t hesitated to fold his small fingers back over the coin and then do what he had been told… to do what he’d always been told to do. 
“I’m sorry, Shadow.” He shook his graying hair, “I’m so sorry.” 
Azriel grimaced, fists tightening until they turned pale, “Don’t feel sorry for me. Don’t you dare.”
He frowned, “And why not?”
The Shadowsinger stilled and got quiet again, “Because it was my fault. I killed her.” 
Jadhan, for all his mortal naivete, didn’t look surprised at his answer. He only twisted his mouth to the side in thought before asking once again, "Why are you here, Shadow? Why don't you leave?"
Azriel looked at him, hazel eyes filled with despair.
He would never tell Jadhan this, but he’d always been envious of humans for one thing - they could die of old age. They could be killed easily. So easily that all it would take was one flick of Azriel's wrist and Jadhan would be no more.
Fae were not so easy to kill, and their only end was a violent one. Maybe that was why Rhys had banished him to the middle of the Continent where life was harsh but simple, and fae were nowhere to be found.
No one here was strong enough to kill him. Azriel would know - he’d spent the first five years on the Continent searching for a way to die and getting into so many bloodbaths it had lost its luster.
“Because I’m waiting for my mate to call me home.” The Shadowsinger said, “Because I’m waiting to die.” 
___
There were many reasons Azriel built his house in the woods. Firstly, he liked the privacy Secondly, when the nightmares came, there was no telling the damage he could do. 
Tonight’s dreams were especially violent and cruel to him. 
Elain appeared before him, sweet and delicate as a dove and despite knowing better, he couldn’t help but follow her into the darkness like a fly to a carnivorous flower. It wasn’t her fault - he should have known better than to drag them both into this mess. She’d been reckless, hungry for some semblance of control in this new and strange world, and he had been all too willing to play the role of the selfless knight. 
When she kissed him it felt wrong, but like every other night, he was too powerless to push away. This was how it had happened, and there was no changing that.
She whispered against his lips, “Thank you for coming for me.” 
Azriel’s stomach twisted, because two people had gone on the mission into Beron’s lair, and two people had come out. Azriel had wrapped his arms around Elain’s silky body after saving her, and left you behind.
He followed Elain further, chasing her shimmering pink skirts onto the Autumn Court battlefield where she dove into the grasses and disappeared. 
This was where it truly went wrong. 
He caught sight of you on the hill, blood blooming like roses from where the ash arrows pierced your flesh. Your wings were gone and you leaned too far backward, still feeling their phantom weight against your back. That was what it had taken to bring you down. That was what it had taken for Beron to break you.
It was like a bolt of lightning running through his body when the bond snapped into place. Your bruised eyes shot open and you fought against the chains, horror freezing your heart. 
Azriel would know, because he felt it all.
“AZ! NO!” 
Beron’s ax caught the light as it came down on your neck and this wonderful thing he’d dreamt about for over five hundred years was snatched away from him. 
Azriel shot up in bed, skin slick and suffocating under the blankets. He kicked them off his body, taking big, desperate gulps of air as his stomach and shadows settled down. 
He rubbed his chest, feeling that hollow space where the bond used to be. 
He’d had you for less than a minute… he should have had an eternity with you. You should have had an eternity with all of them. 
On the day you died, Rhys and Cassian had also lost a sister. Feyre and Nesta had lost a best friend. Cassian may have been quick to forgive him, but Rhys could never. He’d already lost one sister. Nothing could have prepared him to lose you too. 
Shadows swarmed around him and he already knew his powers had wrecked the roof once again. Moonlight streamed through the newly made hole in the ceiling, pooling around his shaking form. He imagined it was the Mother staring down at him with her unblinking eye. Disappointed. Angry. 
The mating bond had been utterly wasted on him. 
“I’m-I’m sorry, Y/n.” He gasped out, trembling. He wrapped his wings around his shaking shoulders, as if that would be enough to shield him from what he’d done. 
Once again he was that little boy trapped in the cellar. Abandoned. Unloved. Alone. But this time he deserved it.  
“Please. Please.” He begged. He begged for the madness to take him. He begged for an end to his eternal life. 
“I want to come home.” He sobbed. “Please. I want to come home.”
You stood before him at the foot of the bed - a vision that had arrived three days after coming to the Midlands and never left. You looked at him sadly, your white dress hanging still despite the breeze that flowed through the room. But you didn’t say a word. You didn’t say anything at all. 
___
Jadhan was fifty-five now. The Shadowsinger still came to the tavern every night, drank his whiskey on the house, and left once the songs were over. 
Mikhail had left at eighteen, chasing after opportunities on the edge of the Continent. Zhik had died the year before - the youngest and the weakest of the trio. Not even the Shadowsinger could fight the cold that came for him in the Winter and stole him away before Spring. 
Now it was Alzhar and Jadhan that ran the tavern. Alzhar who poured the Shadowsinger his drinks.
“On the house.” He said, sliding the glass along the countertop. Whiskey. Two fingers. Just how the Shadowsinger liked it. 
“Thanks, Alzhar.” He raised the glass in the air before tossing it back in one shot, grimacing. Either he was getting older, or the whiskey had gotten worse. 
Snow flurried past the windows, more rain than anything else. 
“Happy Solstice day.” The Shadowsinger said with the faintest of smiles. 
“Happy Solstice day.” 
It was no grand holiday in the Midlands, and it certainly could never hold a candle to the festivities that were going on in Velaris, but still, Azriel would take whatever comfort he could get. 
Phaedra had quietly retired from singing, opting to strum along with her guitar in the background. But her daughter led the band now, a vibrant star in the midst of these quiet lands with a smoky voice that was only rivaled by her mother. 
“Happy Solstice day, everyone!” The tavern-goers cheered and a new generation of children shrieked from their spots closest to the stage. “Now I know it’s not looking too great outside, but we all know what dear old, Phaedra says.” 
“Are you calling me old, Miss Devra?” Phaedra hollered, red painted lips turned down in a frown. 
“I’m calling you a dear, Mama. You’re still as young as a rosebud in April.”
“That’s right!” Alzhar whooped. Phaedra winked and blew her future son-in-law a kiss.
Devra’s smile was positively radiant, “Alright, alright well whatever. She says daisies look brightest when they’re down in the shits, but that’s not really the most appetizing turn of phrase now is it?” 
Everyone erupted in a mixture of laughter and cheer.
“Come on now, Dev.” Alzhar called out, “You’ve kept us waiting long enough. Sing!”
She rolled her eyes playfully, “Well since you asked so kindly,” She cleared her throat and began to croon,
“When my mama first warned me you’ve got trouble on your tail, I told her foxes are quick runners and my heart ain’t just for sale. I won’t be wooed by sweet flowers or sugar tea on ice, I just want someone who’ll love me and who’ll never think twice. I’ve-”
The tavern door burst open, letting in a howling blast of night-chilled air tinged with rain and frost. Everyone cringed back except Shadow, clutching at their thick coats and gasping at the sight of the being that came in from the darkness.
The female was anything but cold with her shining, warm eyes and radiant skin. She glowed like she'd been brushed with an otherworldly glimmer. She was sunlight shooting through crystal. 
Dev stopped singing immediately, her hands slipping from the worn out strings with a strangled thrum.
The Shadowsinger stumbled, actually stumbled, to his feet, and the world seemed to fall silent.
Shadows shot out towards her, curling around her legs and licking the hem of her midnight blue coat. She was the moonlit darkness given form, delicate and fierce at the same time. 
“Azriel.” She breathed out, finally giving a name to the nameless fae. “Azriel.” She repeated, still in disbelief.
The Shadowsinger - Azriel - walked forward without a sound, his scarred hands shaking at his sides.
She looked ready to throw her arms around him. Whether it was to embrace him or strangle him was yet to be seen.
Before she could make a move or say anything further, he dropped to his knees, head bowed and trembling. He swallowed thickly, keeping his eyes trained on the floor between her feet like he was scared to even look at her straight on.
If he had been looking at her, he would have seen the horrified shock that parted her lips and widened her eyes.
He pulled out that sleek obsidian blade he carried with him everywhere. The knife seemed to hum, the silent sound reverberating through the room and causing the air above it to warp.
Everyone knew that that knife was as much a part of him as his wings. But he held it out to her now like an offering, wings stretching open so that everyone could see the orange glow of the fire through the thin membrane, and the tendons that flowed through them like rivers.
Alzhar looked to his father in confusion. Was this some fae custom he wasn't aware of? Should they all be bowing to her? Perhaps she was their queen.
But his father only let out a slow breath, shoulders sinking down.
The Shadowsinger was the picture of reverent misery, and he would let her take whatever she wanted for her revenge.
His wings.
His life.
Anything...
Because I’m waiting for my mate to call me home.
That was what the Shadowsinger had revealed to him years ago, and Jadhan had never forgotten it. 
Because I’m waiting to die.
Her beautiful face crumpled, then turned resolute. She ignored the blade, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and hauling him up to his feet. Azriel’s eyes blew open in surprise.
“You bastard. You absolute bastard.” She said, her silky voice shaking, “I’ve been looking for you for years.” 
“Y/n,” Azriel whispered reverently, “I-” 
She slammed her lips against his, swallowing whatever desperate apology had been about to escape his mouth.
The Shadowsinger froze, then slowly melted into her touch, wrapping his arms around her waist so tightly it was a miracle her ribs didn’t snap. Shadows swirled around the pair in a perfect mixture of light and dark - like moonlight bleeding through winter clouds. 
No one in the tavern could stand to look away. They were absolutely transfixed. Some great power was moving in the world and they could feel it. Magic or not, it demanded to be felt.
When the two fae finally pulled away from each other, gasping for breath, something in the earth seemed to crack open and shake the ground, releasing pressure that had been building for hundreds and hundreds of years. 
Tears slipped out of her eyes, salty and not entirely unwelcome. 
“Oh, Az.” She whispered, cradling his face with one hand and clutching her chest with the other. The Shadowsinger was weeping now, curling into her like a vine seeking sunlight, “How could I have forgotten this?”
He buried his face in her neck, breathing in the scent of elderflower and mountain pine like a man starved. His shadows grew around him, thick and powerful. And before anyone could even let out a strangled gasp, they disappeared with a whisper of smoke and shadow.
You reappeared in darkness, holding Azriel’s shaking body against you like an anchor to a ship. 
“I’m here, Az. I’m here.” You gently shushed him, tangling your fingers through his hair.
You scanned the room finding nothing but a rickety bed and a dresser in the corner by way of furniture, and a small pile of firewood against the wall.
Moonlight streamed in through the roof and you held out a hand, latching onto the rays and weaving them together so tightly they filled the room with a silver glow. 
“Az.” You whispered, all your attention turned back on him, on your mate. "Az." You gently shook him, pressing fervent kisses to his temple until he finally lifted his eyes.
Azriel looked exhausted, purple bruises shading the hollows beneath his gorgeous eyes. 
“How-” Azriel gasped, “How is this-” 
“Bryaxis brought my body to the Cauldron.” You finished, equally out of breath, “It took him years to put me back together but… he did it. He did it, Az.” 
Azriel closed his eyes, sinking to his knees. This time you let him fall. And you fell with him, climbing into his lap so he could bury his face in your wind-swept hair. 
Home.
You smelled like home to him.
“Promise me." He begged, "Promise me you’re real, Y/n. Please, promise me. I’ll-I'll do anything." He could feel you on the other end of the bond, your heart pulsing and alive. But… he didn’t know if he'd be able to survive if he woke in the morning to find that this was all some terribly perfect dream.
“I’m here, Az. I’m here.” You replied thickly, “I’m here and I’m whole.” You tugged off your coat, throwing it somewhere behind you, and pulled down the neck of your sweater. A thick line of scar tissue wrapped around your throat, one of the many physical reminders of the horrors Beron had put you through. 
Azriel stilled, one hand daring to trace the pale flesh with a feather-light touch. “I… I did this.” 
“No...No.” You whispered, brushing away the moisture that had collected on his cheeks, “You didn’t do this, Az.”
“I left you behind.” His voice broke. “I took Elain and I left you behind. Y/n, I’m so sorry. Please, I’m so sorry.” 
You flinched and closed your eyes. It was one of your worst memories to date - the sight of Azriel’s broken face as the first ash arrow caught you in the back and brought you to the ground. The second was what had done you in, piercing through the membrane of your wings and digging into the ground, pinning you there.
Azriel had only gripped Elain’s golden form closer to his body. He could only fly one of you out, and in that moment he had made his choice and leapt into the sky. 
Azriel felt your emotion through the bond and desperation flooded his system once again. 
He couldn’t lose you. Not again. Not like this. Not when he had so much to make up for. 
“I know what I did, Y/n. I know it was unforgivable, but I swear to you I will do anything you ask. Whatever it takes. If you’ll just give me a chance, I- ”
“Shhhhhhh.” You shook your head, pressing your finger to his lips and silencing him. “I forgive you, Az.” You said, cupping his face.
He immediately leaned into your touch, craving the feeling of your soft skin against his.
“I don’t-I don't want to think about that anymore. Trust me, I’ve spent the last half a century agonizing over it.” You said, smiling without humor.
His hands rubbed up and down your back, tracing the ruined remnants of your wings and silently begging you to explain.
You hesitated, collecting your words and speaking them carefully, “I would have come sooner but… I was so scared and confused about everything. My body didn’t feel like mine anymore without my wings with-'' Your hand flew up to your throat on instinct. 
Azriel gently pulled your fingers away, kissing the pads of your fingertips all the way to your palm, and then your wrist. His lips brushed against the pulsing vein as soft as a feather. It was such a small point of contact, but it grounded you to reality.
 “I couldn’t remember anything. It was like… like I was starting from scratch. Building my life from the ground up.”
Azriel repeated the gesture with your other hand, soft lips skimming over your skin until you shivered, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” He whispered softly, “I should have been there.” 
“You didn’t know.”
“I should have known.” 
You looked at him for a long time, drinking in the sight of him and refamiliarizing yourself with his face. He did the same with you.
He looked tired and thinner than you remembered, the elegant planes of his face now harsh and sharp. But buried beneath all those years of loneliness, he was still there - your Azriel. The male who never did anything in half-measures. The male who couldn’t help but make some of the most impulsive decisions you’d ever seen in your life, and also some of the most careful. 
Gods, you’d missed him.
You'd missed talking to him and laughing with him. You'd missed the simple joy of being in his presence and the way that the world seemed to fall with hush whenever he entered a room.
“I came for you as soon as I remembered.” You brushed a strand of inky black hair from his forehead, and then flicked him. Hard. “But you just had to go and disappear on the Continent without a trace.” 
That wasn’t completely true. He’d left bloody, brutal footprints for a while, but those had dried up too quickly. 
The smile Azriel gave was weak and dull, but it was a start, “I’m sorry I kept you waiting, Y/n.” 
“That’s alright." You murmured against his lips before kissing him, "You can make it up to me.” 
Azriel’s heart leapt in his chest, and the bond responded in kind, singing louder than a choir of a thousand songbirds. Even after all this time, even after everything, the Shadowsinger hoped. 
“Y/n-” That light began to dim, hateful voices whispering in his ear that he was unworthy of you, that he would destroy this chance at happiness just as swiftly as he’d done the first time, that he would ruin it all, “I don’t deserve-”
“Stop it, Az.” Your words were soft but commanding, “I don’t care about what you think you deserve or don’t deserve. I want you. I want my best friend back. I want you back.” You wiped the tears from your cheeks, “I want you back in Velaris, and if it turns out I’m still pissed at you for everything, we’ll figure it out, ok?” 
You took a shaky breath and Azriel looked up at you in awe. He gathered you in his arms and captured your lips in a softer, more gentle kiss. A kiss that said, I’m tired. I’m so so tired and for the first time in my life I’m going to force the voices that tell me terrible things to be silent.
And it worked for a spell, but Azriel was pulling away again, looking guilty. 
“Rhys-”
“I’ve already handled Rhys.” 
His brow arched up every so slightly. Your guilty eyes flitted to the side.
You loved Rhys like a brother, and you fought with him like siblings do. That was why the last thing you'd done before leaving Velaris was force him to lift the banishment... and then you'd punched him in the face.
“I wasn’t exactly happy with him when I found out he banished you to the Continent. And to the Midlands too. I’ve heard it’s terribly boring here.” 
Azriel smiled, and this time it was a genuine one full of love and relief, “Everywhere is terribly boring without you. And terribly painful.” 
“That’s a very good answer.” You replied, feeling that a great weight had been lifted off your chest.
He held you in a gentle caress, tracing your brow bone and the curve of your lips and committing the feeling of you to memory.
This was real. This was real. This was real.
You both folded in on each other like paper houses laid to rest, until you were tangled up on the floor. There was a perfectly functional bed not even four feet away, but even that seemed like too much effort after everything that had happened. 
Azriel wrapped his wings protectively around you, settling down with his head against your chest so he could hear your heartbeat. You hummed in tired contentment, peppering his forehead with kisses as your eyelids began to droop. 
“I want to go home, Azriel,” You murmured, “I want to go home with you.” 
Home. 
Azriel swallowed thickly, “We’ll leave tomorrow first thing in the morning. I promise.” 
You opened a bleary eye, examining your mate quietly, “Do you not want to say goodbye?” 
Azriel kissed your chest, right over your heart. Thirty years ago he would have said yes. He would have taken time to get his affairs in order and to make sure Jadhan and his sons, Phaedra and Devra, and the rest were taken care of. But things had changed, and he knew that no matter what, they would be alright. They would live and travel and fall in love. If they were lucky, they’d experience the joy of dying in their sleep surrounded by loved ones at the end of a long and eventful road. 
“No. No, I don’t think so.” 
You pressed one final kiss to his forehead, absorbing him in the warmth of your arms. Azriel sighed, hanging onto the golden thread in his chest that wrapped around his soul and bound him to you. 
“They’ll be ok, my love.” You murmured.
And so will we. You whispered the promise down the bond, soft and gentle. 
He closed his eyes, pressing the words I love you into your skin.
“I know.” He whispered to the night sky once your breathing had evened out, “I know.” 
That night at the tavern felt like a dream - the kind that left you groggy and awestruck when you initially awoke, and then slipped away like water cupped in a child’s hands. 
Everything seemed louder than before, even though the townspeople walked about in a contemplative daze. It was the forest. That’s what it was. It hummed more brightly. The blanket of power that had rested over the treetops for decades had lifted overnight. 
No one spoke of the events aloud - they were too aware of the enormity of what they’d witnessed - but they all knew the truth.
The Shadowsinger had finally been called home. 
___
“Quick!” Alzhar’s eldest son, Samu, called out to the twins. They hobbled over as quickly as their stout legs could carry them. 
“Samu,” Niran whined, “I’m tired.”
“Papa said to be back by dark.” Rhaan reminded them all. The only trademark that separated him from his twin brother was the flash of blond through his ruddy brown hair. White-tailed deer they called him.
“I want dinner.” 
“Me too.” 
Samu looked over the hills where the sun was sliding down the sky like rain on a window.
“But we haven’t found the house yet!” He protested.
“We’ve been searching for days.”
“Yeah, we’ve been searching for days.” Niran parroted.
“Of course we have!” He threw his hands up in the air, “Did you really think the Shadowhouse would be easy to find?” He clicked his tongue in disappointment, shaking his head, “Go back if you’re so scared. I’ll look for it myself.” 
Niran and Rhaan looked at each other, identical frowns pulling at their lips. They wanted to prove their worth, but they were still younger than Samu, and their hunger mattered more.
“We’re telling Mama you didn’t listen.”
“I want your dessert.”
“Wait, no. I want it. Can we share?”
“I’m not sharing!”
Samu smiled triumphantly and stomped further into the woods, leaving the twins to their usual bickering.
The little boy sprinted back home hours later, a gleeful kick in his step. The sky was already turned pitch black, but the Mother had sprinkled out the stars like salt to guide him home.
Devra stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips, swollen belly blocking out the roaring firelight like an eclipse. 
“Where have you been?” She gasped out, grabbing Samu’s head and holding him close to her stomach. Samu loved when she did this, convinced that his newest sibling would talk to him first. 
Niran and Rhaan wanted another brother to tussle with, but Samu was hoping for a sister. She could tussle with them too, he was sure.
He ignored her question, grabbing her hand and hauling her back inside, “Papa! BaBa! I found it! I found the Shadowhouse.” 
Niran and Rhaan popped out from their bedroom, clambering after their older brother as he dragged their mother along.
Jadhan and Alzhar looked up with relief. Jadhan’s hair had turned white as snow in his old age and hints of gray were beginning to sprout from Alzhar’s temples.
“Papa!”
“Samu, what have we told you about staying out past-”
“The Shadowsinger left something for you and Baba.”
“What?!” Jadhan sat up straighter, grimacing at the painful twist of his leg. He motioned his grandson closer, helping him climb onto the bed.
The little boy dropped the blue-velvet bag into his outstretched hands, leaning back on his heels with rapt attention. Samu, being the boy that he was, hadn’t opened it on the whole journey over and was now buzzing to learn what secrets it held within.
Jadhan was immediately startled by the weight of the parcel. 
“Open it!”
“Wait! I want to see!” 
“Help me up!” 
Alzhar and Devra relented, picking up the twins and leaning close. Their own curiosity was itching to be satisfied.
Jadhan opened the bag and tipped it over spilling dozens of gold coins onto the quilt. Devra gasped, her hands flying up to her mouth. Alzhar didn’t bother hiding his shock, his mouth agape. 
It was more money than they’d ever seen in their lives, Jadhan didn’t concern himself with it - he hadn’t had to worry about money in a long while. Instead, he picked up the slip of paper that had also fallen out, carefully unfolding it with trembling, wrinkled fingers.
For all the drinks “on the house” and for your son, Mikhail, who traveled to the edges of the Continent and made it possible for my mate to find me and bring me home.
Scrawled on the lower edge of the paper were more words, cramped and small like they’d been jotted down as an after-thought. 
Also, your whiskey is absolutely disgusting. Never let anyone else drink it.
Everyone stilled, watching Jadhan carefully. 
Without warning, the old man tipped his head back and roared with laughter.
Samu leaned back in surprise. His grandfather was a naturally solemn man, and he'd never heard him laugh so loudly and so fiercely.
Alzhar reached for the slip of paper, skimming the words quickly.
"No!" He cried out in disbelief, "Stop! This can't be. Devra, look-"
One by one the adults fell into fits of roaring laughter, collapsing onto Jadhan's bed or onto the floor. Even the boys cheered - confused but happy to be part of whatever story had just finished unfolding.
Jadhan was seventy-one years old when he died, and he died laughing, surrounded by his family at the end of a long road.
Down the street in the tavern, the band was still playing the same old songs, although they were being performed by yet another generation of songbirds. But, there was one new addition to the repertoire.
A song penned by Phaedra and aptly named The Ballad of the Shadowsinger years before her quiet passing. 
It was always the last song of the night. Always. And it ended like this: 
Come Solstice day
Come wind or rain
Now calls the heather
The Midlands will have no reason to dismay
For the Shadowsinger has been called home again
___________
Another author's note:
I feel like I threw in so many new human characters so I made a family tree. Ha!
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Also, please enjoy the small essay I wrote last night after writing this oneshot...
From last night:
Listen, some red flags are just pale orange scraps of fabric when you’re an immortal non-human being who’s been alive for hundreds of years. Don’t come for me. I’m so tired. It’s 3am. I should sleep. 
Ok, note from Florence B at 3:16am because I am making CONNECTIONS. Not all of this was intentional, but maybe it was? Maybe I’m just stringing connections after the fact.  Maybe I’m a genius. Probably not, but still. I’m so tired, guys. Why am I doing this right now? I should be sleeping but I can’t sleep so I’m going to do this instead.
Buckle down folks for the essay I am about to write: 
I have my qualms about the ACOTAR books, as I’m sure most people do. Don’t get me wrong, they’re wonderful reads and it’s the series that got me back into reading after college, but they’re not perfect by any means.
One thing I think that gets brushed under the rug (especially given how ALL the batboys fall for girls who are literally in their late teens/mid-twenties - it’s a major red flag but we forgive because it’s fiction) is how DIFFERENTLY fae experience time. LIke, these fuckers live hundreds, if not THOUSANDS of years. The only way they die is if they get killed, like purposely poisoned or stabbed or whatever have you. I tried to write this/touch upon this when Azriel describes how he’s jealous of Jadhan for his humanity and how no matter what, Azriel is stuck potentially living an ETERNITY with the reality of what he’s done. It’s why for me - personally - all the stuff about the mate bond driving males mad or the choice that Rhysand and Feyre make to bind their lives to one another kind of makes sense. Like, if I was faced with an eternal life sentence in a world that was as brutal and cruel as the ACOTAR universe is, HECK YEAH I MIGHT BIND MY LIFE TO SOMETHING/SOMEONE I CARED ABOUT! I’M NOT DOING THIS SHIT ALONE! You’ve gotta retire from the game at SOME point. 
I know I probably made things really confusing by introducing a whole host of human characters spanning several generations (re: the family tree up above), but as I previously mentioned, I thought it was important to do this to contextualize/compare the lifespan of a fae to a normal human. While Jadhan is growing up, getting a job, getting married, having kids, Azriel is still struggling with his banishment to the Midlands and his own sense of self-worth. The line about Jadhan approaching Azriel and offering him money to kill his abusive father who broke his leg was thrown in there later on around the 1am mark. And I didn’t think of it much - I just wanted a reason for Azriel to know Jadhan personally throughout his life from childhood to old age. BUT! Now that I think I’m thinking about it more, it makes sense that Azriel would be able to accept Y/n’s forgiveness so quickly. He sees a lot of himself in young Jadhan and by helping him escape his abusive father(albeit by violent means) and watching him grow up into a strong man and a good father, Azriel’s helping heal his own inner child. 
The kids! Oh my goodness I love the kids so much. Once I threw the first kid into the story I thought - fuck it, we’re going to make the parallelism painfully obvious with Azriel seeing himself, Rhys, and Cassian mirrored in Mikhail, Alzhar, and Zhik. Then of course I had to bring things around full circle and give Alzhar three boys and a girl on the way (yes, Devra is pregnant with a girl and Samu is going to shower her with all the love that Rhys gave his own sister). 
Finally, I’m going to address any comments about Y/n forgiving Azriel too quickly. 1) I feel like it is a universally acknowledged/unacknowledged truth that no one hates Azriel as much as he hates himself. And no punishment could ever be worse than the self-loathing he feels for himself (NOTE: people, if a partner/romantic love interest/friend/crush/whatever EVER says this kind of stuff to you, drop them like a two-ton boulder. That’s a major red flag, but once again this is a fictional man/fae so we can let it slide). 2) Once again, these fae are literally HUNDREDS OF YEARS OLD. I can only speak for myself when I say this, but I feel like if I had known and loved someone for that long, I would be willing to forgive a lot and trust that time might be able to heal deeper wounds than humans are used to. Time is precious to us humans, we can’t always afford to wait and hope for things to get better on their own, but fae can. 
Are those all my thoughts? I think those are all my thoughts. It’s 3:47am now. Oh jeez. To future me: I’m so sorry if you have to read this and it’s bad and you have a coffee-fueled headache all day because I fucked things up for us. 
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paddockbunny · 11 months
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Crowded
Summary : Inspired by the totally mad crowds outside of the drivers hotel in Budapest. What happens when it goes wrong? Rating : 16+ Pairing : Lando Norris x Reader Word Count : 2,247 ONE SHOT Trigger Warnings : 16+, small bit of language, there is nothing dirty in this BUT there is mention of injury, crowd crushing, accident and hospitals just so you are aware! Images : curated from Pintrest Authors Note: I’m not sure if this is my best work but I wanted to get it up during the GP weekend. Also, this is not shaming any fans but I think we can all agree that the scenes outside of the drivers hotels this weekend is a little extreme
The sun was setting as you and Lando made your way back to the hotel. It had been a tough day for him. The McLaren wasn’t playing ball around the boiling hot Budapest circuit and he had only managed to get P12 for Sundays race. Disappointed and frustrated he had barely said a word since getting into the drivers seat and you knew better than to try engage him in any type of conversation when he was so in his head. You had better ways of making him forget about the day - and none of them required either of you wearing clothes.
“Fuck!” Lando drew out an exasperated sigh as he turned on to the street where the hotel was. Throngs of people were crowded, no rammed, into every available space. They were 7-8 lines deep. 10-11 in some places. It was worse than the previous two days when it was at least limited to right outside of the hotel but tonight, it sheer amount of people was unbelievable. Barriers had to be erected to hold them all back and while Lando slowly drove up to where he was being directed too they began to scream and holler loudly at the car. “Lando, is this….” You glanced out of your passenger side window to the sea of faces “safe?” you finished.
“I’m sure it will be.” He was calm about the whole thing. He didn’t seem phased in the slightest which made you wonder why you were suddenly feeling a little panicked. Your hands hand gone clammy and your pulse had quickened. A tight feeling grew in your throat and your lungs felt like they were anxiously holding on to a breath that you couldn’t expel. Lando parked the car. You heard the decibels from the crowd outside increase as he cut the engine. “I’m a little worried.” You finally explained to him. You had been mindful of his mindset since Quali. You knew he would be in a dejected, disappointed mood and he wouldn’t want you creating imaginary problems. “I can’t not sign some stuff.” He shrugged but gave you a sympathetic look. You understood that and you understood how all this came along with his job but it felt to you to be chaotic and crazed - and he hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet. “Just go inside. You go in and wait for me in the lobby.” He opened the door as a hint it was time to leave the safety of the vehicle.
The noise from cheering and screaming hit you as soon as you climbed out of the McLaren Lando had been given this weekend. Sure, the roar wasn’t for you - you knew how much fans disapproved of your relationship from all the hate you got on your social media - but you wondered if this was how it felt to be famous. To be a Harry Styles or a Taylor Swift. It was daunting and alien to you. There was no way you would ever get used to it like they did. Or in fact your boyfriend did. He was already at a barrier, signing shirts and caps for swooning fangirls. He smiled away as he turned and took quick selfies so they could remember their 20 seconds with him forever.
A security guard from the Ritz-Carlton came over to you and started guiding you around the car and toward the hotel. But in that moment you realised Lando had the room key. You knew his quick 10 minutes would probably be more like 30 and honestly, you just wanted to get out of view already. You weren’t shy but with all the stuff you had read about yourself from jealous fangirls you didn’t want to give them anymore fodder. So instead of going straight in you headed over toward your boyfriend. He was in the process of signing a cap when you whispered in his ear about the hotel room key.
And then it all happened in an instant. It happened so quickly you had zero idea what had even transpired. You felt a knock to the side of you as the security guard pushed up against you and then cool, hard metal being thrust against your other side. You felt sandwiched. That was the immediate sense. And then, it was replaced by pure and utter pain. The type of pain that ripped through your entire body. That consumed your whole physical being and captures every last fibre of your brain. You couldn’t think of anything other than trying to get a breath in and your eyes began to sting when you couldn’t, it was a struggle. The same security guard that had been guiding you to the hotel - who had just been hard up against you - was pulling you away. Your feet barely able to touch the floor as you wanted to let out a yell that you were in pain but nothing came out. The agony in your chest was nothing like you had ever felt before and as the doors of the hotel were pulled open, you knew something was wrong.
“Baby!” Lando’s panicked voice was the first thing you heard. His outstretched arms as he rushed to you the first you saw. “What” you struggled “happened?” “The barrier gave way. People started pushing from the back.” His hands were going all over you, checking you had no physical scrapes after you nearly tumbled to the floor. But while you might have looked on in the outside you knew from the fight going on while trying to breathe, things weren’t ok. “I” you started “can’t breathe.” He had to have seen the pained expression flooding your face as he immediately turned and looked for Jon.
As you were guided toward a more private area of reception - out of all the hundreds of prying eyes outside the glass facade of the hotel - you couldn’t think of anything but the sheer pain you were in. You felt tears form in your eyes a slowly trickle down your cheeks. You weren’t meaning to cry, it just hurt so badly that it was an automatic response. Jon, bless him, thought you were having a panic attack so proceeded to try calm you down with some breathing techniques but he stopped when Lando loudly exclaimed; “Mate, that’s not working. Look at her!” And his hand was in yours seconds later. “What do you need baby?” Lando’s hand caressed down the back of your head. You didn’t want to say it because you didn’t want to be a drama Queen, but the torture in your left side was insurmountable. “A doctor.”
It was THAT bad. And it was about to get worse.
Two hours later, you were sitting propped up in a hospital bed awaiting the results of an X-Ray. Lando hadn’t left your side, he held your hand tightly and raised your cup to let you sip on water. He kept blaming himself and he should have listened to your concerns about safety earlier. No matter now many times you assured him it was your choice to come get the room key he insisted he should have made sure you had it before leaving you and you wouldn’t have been lying in a hospital bed in Budapest if he hadn’t been so absentminded. Lando simply went round and round in circles. He blamed himself, blamed security and even blamed the fans at the back pushing those at the front to try and get to him while you (in your head) blamed yourself. You should have just waited for him in the lobby. You should have listened to your gut. But there was no use in blaming anyone or feeling bad about it now.
When the doctor finally came in to your private room at the end of the corridor, you were practically flying from the drugs they had given you. They took a while to kick in but now, you had never felt such damn euphoria in your life. In broken English the doctor took a deep breath in and finally stated; “Unfortunately, you have two broken rib.” Broken ribs. Two. That would explain why there was so much pain and why you couldn’t breathe. You hadn’t as much as broken a finger or a toe before so breaking a rib felt extreme, and yet you had broken two! As you tried to listen to the course of action and pain management plan the doctor was describing you could see Lando become more and more frustrated beside you. He only just about managed to keep composed while the doctor was in talking to you and unleashed when the door was finally closed again.
“Fuck!” He groaned under his breath. “What the fuck?!” You weren’t sure if he was pissed because of the broken ribs themselves, because you had to abstain from sex until you had healed properly, because of the fact you would have to go rest at home and not continue on Belgium (and potentially not go on the amazing summer holiday he had planned during the summer break), or how you had them broken in the first place. You watched Lando pull his phone out of his jeans pocket and you asked him what he was doing. “I’m not driving tomorrow. I’m calling Zak.” “Lando…” you sighed - as much as you actually could “No. I’m not leaving you in pain, alone, in a foreign country. This wouldn’t have happened if they didn’t allow the hotel to tell everyone where we were staying.” He held the phone to his ear and you couldn’t move to even attempt to get it away from him. You just had to watch as he awaited Zak to pick up his call.
Thankfully, it went to voicemail and he cancelled the call. He announced he would try him again in a few minutes. You could see the vein in his temple throbbing away. You had come to know as a signal when he was frustrated or angry with something - or when he was horny or about to come but those were certainly not the case right now - and you knew you had to talk him down. “I’m sorry, Lando.” “What for? It’s not your fault.” He sighed. “I know but you wanted me at the track tomorrow. I should have just went in and waited like you told me too.” You were hoping your tone was enough to convince him and talk him down. “Don’t. It wasn’t your fault, baby.” He rejoined you back on your bed. He had been sitting on the edge of it, holding your hand before the doctor had come in. And now, you were (ok pretending a little so his anger dispersed) feeling sorry for yourself he came back to the same position. He gently ran his hand down your cheek and you nuzzled against it like a little kitten feeling happy at the touch. “I feel so bad about summer too. You planned that amazing holiday and…” “Stop it. If I have to drive from Monaco to Italy then I will or I will book a bigger jet with a bed so you can lie down. You’re going.” He was very determined about you not missing out on the trip. There wasn’t a doubt you knew Lando would look after you - when he was around to do so - over the next few weeks. You knew he would snuggle with you, plump your pillows, help you get dressed and shower and also force you to eat his terrible cooking, unintentionally make you laugh and ask you when you were better a million times a day because he wanted to have sex.
“You have to drive tomorrow.” You told him, looking in those sage green eyes of his. “It’s not fair of the team.” “It’s a family emergency” He shrugged and his eyes (subconsciously) flickered down to your lips before he sighed (probably reminding himself there would be no sexy time for the forceable future). Seconds later Lando yielded. “I’m still going to call Zak. I want to let him know you were injured because of the crowds at the hotel.” It was fair enough “Maybe he can ask them to do something. Move them back, keep them away from the entrance. When they’re right there and gather like that you feel like you have to go to them, like you have to choice.”
“They just want to meet their hero. They just got overexcited.” You felt yourself sympathising with the fans in the crowd that had surged forward and resulted in you getting hurt. You had never been THAT big a fan of anyone before but you were sure that if you were it would be easy to get caught up in the moment.
“This is why I love you. Even when you are lying in hospital with two broken ribs you are still thinking about other people and can forgive them for hurting you” Lando smiled broadly. You had no reply to him. You just coyly smiled back. “C’mere….” He made a tilting movement with his head and you tried not to laugh because it hurt too much “I can’t.” Your words were met with a confused eyebrow lower from Lando before he realised “Oh right, sorry.” He chuckled and leaned in carefully so not to put any pressure against your chest. “I love you.” He whispered before his lips touched against yours. And when you were about to answer him and tell him you loved him more, you hesitated. You realised you were just happy to have his lips on yours and his kiss made you feel safe and secure.
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dyaz-stories · 5 months
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anywhere else is hollow || Cha Hyun-Su x Reader
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word count: 1.4k
warnings & tags: mostly fluff, some angst because it's sweet home, sharing a bed.
first one-shot · previous one-shot
A/N: Third entrance for @neohumanmonster's fandom event! The prompt was: Peaceful Pillowtalk. For context, reader and Hyun-Su were in high school together, reader was only there for a year before going to another high school, and therefore has no knowledge of the bullying which hyun-su was a victim of. this one-shot can be read independently (there's nothing intense plot-wise that requires having read the other parts), but I do recommend reading them for context.
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Hyun-Su stays over at your place quite often now. Long gone are the days when he would drop by for no more than a couple of hours and flee the scene, as though he was scared that you spending time with him would make you despise him. Now he helps you out around the house, and, when he offers, the two of you go out on ‘dates’ around the city. It still makes you nervous, being out in the open, but Hyun-Su doesn’t hesitate anymore to take your hand in his and guide you through the empty streets.
When you’re both in your apartment, you can almost tell yourself you’re two college students living together. Almost. If it wasn’t for your blinds being always drawn to ensure no monsters could see you from outside, or your parents’ former room being turned into a laboratory by your dad before his disappearance, the illusion would be close to perfect. You do like the thought of it. Imagining you and Hyun-Su, sharing a place in a world where the Apocalypse hadn’t happened… It would be sweet.
That being said, despite your developing relationship, that you still haven’t put words on, Hyun-Su keeps sleeping on the sofa. You’d prepared a blanket and a pillow, ‘just in case’, in the very beginning, and that is where he still collapses every night. You’ve been waiting, hoping he would ask for another— arrangement, but he hasn’t said anything, and now you’re wondering if you should.
It isn’t always easy, being the one taking all the steps in the relationship. Makes you wonder if you’re pushing too much, too fast, makes you wonder how much he wants it. And yet, if he does want it but doesn’t dare to ask, how stupid would it be to lose that much time, when you never know how long you have?
“Um, Hyun-Su?” you say that night, as you’re about to leave for your room. He looks up at you with these beautiful dark eyes of his. “I was just thinking— you know you don’t have to sleep here, right?”
He blinks at you.
“Do you— are you asking me to leave?” he asks, and you immediately want to slap yourself. A few months ago, you think he’d have been half-way to the door already. Now, he sounds cautious and a little worried, but he doesn’t seem to have jumped to conclusions just yet.
“No,” you sigh, resisting the urge to bang your head against the door frame because, yeah, it makes sense he’d interpret it like that. “No, I just meant you could, uh—” you glance towards your room. “Just meant you have other options. Here. If you— if you want to.”
You don’t know why you’re so nervous all of sudden. You think a part of you cannot forget how beloved Hyun-Su was in high school, while you were— no one. If the world wasn’t ending, you don’t think he would have looked at you twice. So, sometimes, you wonder if he wants you the same way you want him. It doesn’t help that he doesn’t initiate much of your more intimate moments, and isn’t much of a talker in general.
Hyun-Su’s eyes slowly move to the open door to your room, then move back to you, going wide.
“Are you—” His voice cracks. “Are you sure?”
You nod, not really trusting yourself with words right now. You don’t want to sound desperate for affection, but you also don’t want, even for a second, to make it sound like it’s something you’re nonchalant about.
“Okay,” Hyun-Su mumbles. “Okay.”
He gets up from the couch, walks over to the door, where you’re still standing. You’re both quiet when you take his hand in yours and pull him towards the bed. It feels awkward, but you don’t have enough experience with this sort of thing to tell if that’s how it’s supposed to be.
For a while, you just stay laying on your back, staring at the ceiling, with Hyun-Su doing the same thing next to you. The atmosphere feels heavy, your whole body warm and tingling. This is all just so new to you. There have been lots of moments between the two of you, mostly spontaneous, just doing what felt right in the moment. This is different, probably because you asked, and you’re not sure what to do with it.
After a while, you roll over on your side, looking at Hyun-Su’s profile, until he turns his head to look at you. You press your lips together. Your mind is going into overdrive, trying to figure something to say — what do you even say in these circumstances? You’re drawing a blank. At least until Hyun-Su raises a hand and his fingers start slowly tracing your cheekbone, then your jaw.
You feel your breath catching in your throat, and your lips part as you do your best to keep yourself perfectly still. It’s like you’re finally being approached by a shy cat that you’re trying not to scare away.
Gently, he tucks a lock of hair behind your ear.
“Aren’t you afraid?” he asks, soft voice echoing in the dark.
Afraid of what? Of him? Of someone who touches you like you’re made of porcelain?
“No,” you answer.
For a while, there’s just the sound of the two of you breathing, and the feeling of his hand on your cheek.
“What if I hurt you?” he asks finally, voice weak and fragile.
“You wouldn’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
You swallow. You know he can feel it.
“Yes, I do,” you whisper, and you genuinely believe it to be true.
Hyun-Su’s hand stills. You hear him breathe out, before there’s the sound of rustling and then the feeling of his lips on yours. As usual with him, the kiss is brief and soft, a simple press of his lips against your own. What follows isn’t usual, though, the way he wraps his arms around you and pulls you against his chest, so he can put his chin on top of your head. It has your heart beating erratically, even if it’s not the first time he’s that close to you.
It’s just that that happens mostly when the two of you are kissing. The fact that he’s seeking that kind of closeness without that happening is a whole other kind of intimacy, one that almost makes you shiver.
“Is that okay too?” he checks. “You— said I didn’t need to ask, but…”
“It’s more than okay,” you answer, closing one arm around him however you can. “And I meant it when I said that.”
“I—” A sigh. “I don’t want to impose on you. Sometimes I— I feel like I need you too much.”
It becomes hard to breathe all of a sudden. Hyun-Su isn’t one for that kind of confession, not usually, but you desperately want to hear more. He keeps talking, and you feel his voice rumble through his chest and through you, while he plays with your hair distractedly.
“You’re so— independent. You look like you’re doing so well on your own, here. But it physically hurts to be away from you,” he mumbles into your hair. “But I— know what I am. I never want you to think you can’t— can’t push me away because you’re scared of that— that part of me.”
Your eyes sting, and you hold him a little tighter against you.
“I know who you are, too, Hyun-Su. And I don’t want to push you away.”
“Not now,” he admits. “But if one day—”
“Hyun-Su,” you call softly, trying to get his attention back on you instead of this distant, nebulous future. You live in a world where you may not know tomorrow, where a simple infection could be the end, not to mention the ever looming threat of monsterization taking you over. “I want you here. With me. I promise.”
Finally, you seem to be getting through to him. He relaxes into you, and his breathing turns deeper, more even.
“This feels nice,” he whispers after a while, and you smile against his skin.
“It does.”
You drift into sleep not long after that, you think, and for the first time in forever, you don’t wake throughout the night, startled by the smallest sound.
You just feel safe.
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i hope you liked this one! i love developing reader and hyun-su's relationship through small steps, but just to let you know, we're getting closer to some smut taking place 👀 i hope people won't feel let down by that. i do think it would be out of character to write something super intense for them at that point so don't expect anything hardcore, but the 'porn with feelings' tag on ao3 is my shit so if you like that you might find something to enjoy in there! okay i think i'm done with this lil ramble.
Comments, whether here, in the tags or in a reblog, are greatly appreciated! interactions really motivate me and keep me writing :)
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kelseytheballerina · 3 months
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woa kelsey what happened
2pretty -> kelseytheballerina, as I’m sure you’ve noticed by now. I’ve been over the 2pretty name for a while now and just ready for something that feels more ‘me’.
my YouTube channel name will match this one now too, so angelkels -> kelseytheballerina
I want to get a refresh on this blog so I’m going to private everything while I go through it all and make them public again as I decide what I want to keep. This account has been feeling pretty stale to me for a minute. Like we can do better than this!
I’ve decided to close down my patreon as well. As much as I sincerely appreciate everyone who has supported me there (like wow that’s so kind of you all???), I just don’t use it often enough and I dont feel comfortable charging you lovely people for something I barely log in to. I really do prefer having all of my content here as a one stop shop where everyone can view and enjoy it as normal, no payment required :) Again, I am so grateful to all of you who flocked to the patreon and supported me but I think it’s just not what I’m into right now. Your generosity has meant a lot to me and I hope no one is upset by my decision. I'm still doing pen pals though ♡
I had 27 (yes, TWENTY-SEVEN) videos made and ready to go but I accidentally lost them ALL. Hours and hours worth of content…gone. Just like that. When I tell you that I was in a depressed rage for the past 2 weeks…it doesn’t even begin to cover it. Like who wants to redo all that work? My maternity leave for ballet is ending so I was taking the time to batch film and now it’s just like…that was a waste of time. I couldn’t even open my computer for a while bc I was so upset. You don't understand, I've never felt this defeated before omg. I finally mustered up the morale to re-record but I kept leaving out shots, forgetting things I wanted to say, it just wasn’t as good as the original and that was sooo upsetting. Anyway I can’t stay upset about it forever so I have to force myself to get over it and just start remaking them as best as I can. Just know that even though I’m moving forward, inside I am the physical manifestation of gritted teeth, white knuckles and veins popping out 🙃. Did I buy a new external hard drive? Yes ma’am I did, with a swiftness!!
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dilfhos · 9 months
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STRAY
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#!WHO : SHIGARAKI TOMURA
#!CC: puppygirl!reader, thoughts of depravity, readers kinda naive, no thots just dick, there’s no expressive consent but reader’s kinda dumb and needy, use of “doggy” and “pup”. reader does actually bark (not them arf, yips! like a husky, heady bark.) MDNI.
+bringing back this banger from my old blog. you can also read it on my ao3. im nervous lol idk how its gonna hold up 2 years later, diff audience. i can’t remember the ask specifically but it was something like Shigaraki finding a stray and he ends up using her. omg and i want to tag @bakatenshii idk if you remember my old alias but i do remembered you loved this fic!
+NETWORK(S): @angelshub @bitchcraftinc (i keep forgetting to do this mL, excuse the random @/lovelies)
“Good girl,” Shigaraki whispers and he really means it, at least for now. It makes him think having a pet like you may not be all that bad…
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Shigaraki still wonders how he ever let this be, an animal-woman hybrid living in his already cramped apartment. Doesn’t know why he hadn’t bothered to kick you out either. But it could be anybody’s guess as to why you still remain.
It all started when he got into an argument with his landlord, one that required him the self control to back off and avoid killing the bastard. It was rainy but Shigaraki paid no mind to the stinging raindrops that pelted his skin and soaked his clothes. It was dark out, but not too dark as to not notice you cowering against the side of his building upon his return. Your eyes were closed as you trembled in the cold rain.
Shigaraki didn’t know why he found himself moving closer to get a better look at you but when your eyes shot open, he found himself almost curious. He’d never seen anything like you before. Especially when your ears, you very doglike ears twitched forward, erect and alert. But you didn’t seem all that afraid. You were dressed in soaked shirt that was too big for you as it sagged off your body.
He crouched down and you inched toward him reluctantly and as you moved from your previous position, his eyes sought out the tail that had been tucked in between your legs.
“Hey, there you are,” Someone cooed from behind him. Shigaraki turned to eye the man. There was nothing all that remarkable about him; he wore all black, his hood over his head save for a few dark locks that stuck to his brows. Shigaraki wasn’t the least bit intimidated. But that couldn’t be said for you as you frantically dove into his arms, letting out a frightened whimper. Your ears flattened against your head as your hands curled into Shigaraki’s coat.
He wanted to back you off and leave from the situation as it had nothing to do with him and was fixing to do so when he looked down. Your pupils were blown and eyes glossy, pleading.
He sighed before standing, pulling you up with him to stand on trembling feet.
“She yours?” Shigaraki mumbled. You moved behind him, your hands tightening on his clothes.
“Heh, yeah, ran right out through the door. Isn’t that right baby?” You growled all while cowering behind Shigaraki’s form.
“No collar,” Shigaraki noted.
“Been meaning to get her one. C’mon baby, why don’t you leave the nice man alone and come back home with me?” He cooed.
The utter confidence and trust you had in Shigaraki at this moment was appalling. He barely covered the man in terms of height and upon first glance, he looked rather average. Definitely not the type to win in a fist fight. So why were you so dependent on him to save you?
Shigaraki didn’t have time to really think too much about it because the man advanced, silver glinting under the streetlamp. You yelped and cowered back against the wall again, covering your eyes.
You heard a grunt followed by a pained cry as that then died into the sound of pelting rain. When you lowered your shaky hands, Shigaraki was standing over a pile of what looked to be ash, the knife a few feet away.
Ever since that night, he couldn’t seem to shake you.
You’re loyal and to him, it’s annoying. Showing up at his doorsteps turns into you sleeping on his ratty couch. His chasing you away turns into grumbles of tolerance. The typical sneer he wears when you come sniffing around dissolved in hidden blushes and twitched lips as your distrustful cowering eventually turn into you becoming disturbingly comfortable around him.
After another day of pressing his key into the lock does he already see you on the other side of the door, tail whipping back and forth in excitement as you await his return. Except he isn’t really in the mood. Today was particularly bad and he wanted nothing more than to possibly let off steam, maybe watch something, blow his load and sleep.
“Stupid mutt, stop doing that!” He growls when his back immediately slams against the door, eyes narrowed in the way you smile up at him.
“Welcome home sir.” You beamed.
Another thing you picked up was calling him ‘sir’. Despite the many times he tells you not to. He wasn’t your last owner, and honestly, he’d like it if you didn’t call him anything. But every one of his complaints go through one ear and out the other with you having half the intelligence of an actual dog.
He recoils when he feels your tongue graze his neck. Groans when it doesn’t just end there. You’re licking his chin, his neck, and when your tongue laps over his lips, he’s trying to buck you off. But you’re so persistent as you press further against him, your front grinding up against his groin unknowingly.
Shigaraki bites back a moan at your ignorance, his cock already hardening from your aimless shifting.
You couldn’t feel the bulge pushing against your thigh? The soft grunts he’d release when you’d lap at the rough skin of his neck? You can’t be that stupid or then maybe you are.
But would it be that bad if you are? Because then he wouldn’t feel guilty when he dreams of stuffing you full with his cock. You practically ask for it every chance you get with him. The sleeping in his bed, your excessive show of affection, the sickening devotion in your eyes.
And then, isn’t it what he deserved? He did save you that night. Do you even remember how easy it could have been for him to just walk away? To give you up to that creep? Sure it only happened a few weeks ago but he thinks of that night as if it was only the last. How when he brought you home and went to retrieve a towel to dry you up, you were on your hands and knees practically presenting yourself to him as you slumped in exhaustion. As if giving him the go ahead to do what he wanted to and by gods, it took everything with him not to.
He wasn’t a hero, not by a long shot. And maybe you didn’t have the mental capacity to accept that he was actually a villain because in your eyes, he was your savior.
But as said, today was a particularly bad day and right now he felt anything but.
So just this once he’ll give in. Whether you wanted it or not didn’t matter to him at this point, already past contemplation. After all you’re his pet now, his property and if he can’t do this then what good are you really?
You release your little whimpers and when you look up, your eyes are wide, so full of confusion when he suddenly has you on your hands and knees pressing into you from behind on the floor. Your owner wears a new look, his eyes so feral, teeth gritted. And you know that look; it was the look of your last owner among all the other men that tried to take you on the streets. Hunger. Greed. Desperation.
And you should be wary, should cower away from the carnality in his eyes because you know better than anyone that when it’s present one thing is desired. Yet, you hold your ground. You don’t struggle, in fact he could just make out the way your hips shimmy back a little bit and the whine that surfaces from your throat.
You just can’t help it, the air around you has changed. A thick cloud of hot lust is weighing down around you and so much so, you can’t help but to submit. Besides you trust him one for reasons you can’t figure out.
Shigaraki refuses to meet your eyes, instead he quickly fumbles with his belt and takes out his hard cock. A blush spreads across his face when he eyes the steady slick trailing down your thighs and upon closer inspection he can see how swollen you were and that’s what does him in.
It’s what has him surging forward, bottoming out completely inside of you. Your ears flatten against your head as you let out the neediest sounding moan, one that has a shiver licking down his spine.
“Shit. Shit,” He should feel ashamed, taking advantage of you like this. But he clings on the fact that he’s a villain, that’s his justification. A villian with his pet, that’s all this is.
It’s fueling his newfound vigor as he speeds up, the heat of your tight cunny sucking him in with every cant of his hips.
His fingers dig into the plush of your hips as his own thrust forward, his cock forcing past your tight ring of muscle. You look back again, your eyes glossy with tears, long tongue hanging out as you whine and pant. He was so thick, so heavy within your tight, hot walls. Your nails scrape helplessly against the dingy carpet as he rocks into you with so much drive.
In the midst of your panting and whining surfaces his voice, so grating and filthy as he tumbles every degrading name in the book. It should worry him and yet it has his stomach knotting up, his thighs and glutes tightening as he holds on to your hips for dear life. And in the midst of that is the loud, wet, shlicks of each sink into you.
“My needy little bitch. Taking my cock like a good doggy,” He grits, eyeing the recoil of your ass against his hips.
His hand seeks out the base of your tail as he uses it as leverage to pull you back onto his cock. And it hurts, it has the tears spilling over and yet, your cunt only tightens around him some more.
“F-Feels good sir!” You cry out at about the same time as he mumbles,
“Good doggy, such a good pup,” And at his praise, your ears bend forward, and your tail begins to switch slowly in his gasp. You feel a knot in your tummy, desperately winding down to what you’re chasing. It has you rocking back against him needy to have, so so needy. And the way your resolve has melted away, it makes all his thoughts of guilt completely vanish, leaving him with an unbearable need to fill you up.
He’s quickly pulling out and flipping you onto your back, nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he spreads you wide.
You were so wet, inhumanly so as it’s gushing down onto the carpet and the sight alone has him nearly cumming right then and there but he holds it. At least until he’s thrusting into you again, your head thrown back as you let out a broken whine. Your tits bounce with all the force he’s using as he’s putting everything into these last moments. His one track kind only focuses in the tuft of fur above your cunny, at the way your puffy lips pull part each time he's pushing forward and the slick coating his cock.
You’re yelping with each kiss he delivers to your cervix, hands desperate to hold onto to your new owner. You reach out and he grasps your wrists, using you to thrust impossibly deeper into you. Static fills his mind as his eyes roll back, his hips slamming against yours, balls smacking your ass each time.
“Fuck, fuck cumming!”
“Sir! Sir please-” You cut your own self off with a heady bark, one that startles him. It’s also what has him groaning as he twitches, his seed spilling so suddenly into you. Your pussy milks him as you gush around his dick and it has him falling over, elbows pressed into the carpet on either side of your head. Your legs wrap around his waist as your hips shimmy up against him, whining as you push past your own limits, twitching every so slightly at the overstimulation and sealing this moment of what would be the best one in your simple little head.
“Good girl,” Shigaraki whispers and he really means it, at least for now. It makes him think having a pet like you may not be all that bad.
He also thinks he should probably name you.
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dilfos. do not plagiarize any parts of my content— current or archival. all rights reserved.
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blueberrylixie · 6 months
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yes, professor
professor changbin x fem! student reader 
word count: 9,903
content warnings: oral sex (m and f receiving), vaginal penetration, pussy job, fingering, overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampie (use protection kids!), professor kink, pet names (princess, angel, baby), light degradation (bin calls her a slut mostly), spanking with hand and a ruler, classroom sex.
let me know if i missed anything in this one-shot bc i tend to miss stuff! if you want to skip to the smut, scroll to the white heart divider!
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Your first day of your last year of college was already off to a bad start. 
Not only was it already eighty-eight degrees out at only ten in the morning, but you had tripped and fallen on your way out of your dorm, and skinned your knee. The cut still hurt like a bitch, even as you traipsed the fifteen minutes to your first class of the day. 
And that was really the cherry on top of this miserable summer day. You had to attend your first and only college math class. And you were absolute shit at math.
If you had your way, you wouldn’t be taking this course at all. Not only were you bad at the subject, but you hated it. You wanted to become a technical writer, which 90% of the time didn’t actually require you to know any math. Writing? Love. Science? Fine. Even history was passable, Cs get degrees and all that. But math, for lack of better words, was the bane of your existence. You even struggled to pass back in high school. 
So no one could blame you for putting off this class until practically the last second. You didn’t want this to be your very last course before graduation, because that would be absolute torture. So you buckled in to take it your fall semester instead.
And oh how you were regretting it. 
Now, you stood outside the classroom. The little window on the door was covered with white paper, so you couldn’t see inside. If you could, you would probably have run away. 
Instead, you steeled yourself, straightened your shoulders, took a deep breath, and pushed it open. 
You had arrived a few minutes early, a little later than you usually were to other classes. You had admittedly stalled back at your dorm for as long as possible, knowing what was in store. 
You took a seat in the second row, a few seats away from a quiet-looking guy with dark hair. You pulled a notebook and pencil out of your backpack, before looking up at the front of the room.
And that was when you saw him.
He was standing facing away from you, writing something on the chalkboard. He wasn’t very tall, but he was incredibly built. His broad shoulders flexed in that navy blue button-up as he wrote, and you couldn’t help but check him out. His movements were confident and sure, like he knew he belonged up there. 
You’d never had a hot professor before. Maybe that was about to change.
Of course, he could have an unattractive face, you reminded yourself. Or even worse, a shitty personality. Just because he was ripped didn’t mean he was hot.
Then, he turned around.
Dear God. Your heart rate picked up immediately, your chest contracting as you gazed upon him rapturously. You didn't want to look behind you to see if anyone else felt the same way. There was no way they didn't. 
His dark hair was styled casually, wavy bangs sweeping across his forehead. He had kind, intelligent, yet humorous eyes, adorned with thick-framed black glasses, and small but full lips. Your eyes kept zeroing in on them, and you found yourself wondering what they would feel like against yours.
You shook your head, instantly clearing that thought from your mind. You could not be imagining your professor in that way. Even if he was young, maybe five years older than you at the most. You could not think about him like that. You were terrible enough at math as it was, and you couldn't afford to get distracted.
But when he smiled at the class, your mind went blank, forgetting your little pep talk. God, how could a man look so fine by simply existing?
“Good morning, class,” he said, pointing up at the board. My name is-“
Seo Changbin. 
You read the two words, written in a rushed, messy scrawl. You almost mouthed his name, wanting to feel what it was like to say it. But you kept your mouth shut. 
“My name is Seo Changbin, and I’m your professor this semester,” he continued. “This is a mid-level calculus class, so if that’s not what you’re here for, then you should probably leave now.”
You inwardly sighed. Taking a mid-level math class when you hadn’t taken math in four years seemed dangerous. And honestly, in any other situation, you might have hopped up and left, off to find the easiest possible course the school offered.
But how could you pass up the chance to be around this absolute specimen of a man for an entire semester?
So you stayed put.
“Good.” Changbin moved his hair out of his face, and you watched with a fervor you never thought possible. If your friends could see you, they would call you a simp. For this man, hell yes you were. 
“Now, I’ll be coming around with the syllabus.” He held up a stack of papers. “We’ll go over it, and then jump into the first lesson. Don’t worry, it’s nothing crazy. Yet.” He smirked, and your breath stuttered in your throat. Every time you assumed he couldn’t get any hotter, he inevitably did.
He started making his way up and down the rows of students, handing them the small syllabus. He greeted a few who he must have known from a previous course, asking them how their summer was. 
So he was an attentive teacher, too. Dammit.
Finally, he reached you. When your eyes met, just the hint of a smile graced those perfect lips. You held his gaze, unable to look away. Your entire body was on fire, and you crossed your legs in what you hoped was a casual manner. 
For a split second, you could have sworn his eyes flicked up and down your body, once, checking you out. But it was so fast, you couldn’t tell. Your face was so hot, you couldn’t think straight.
“And what’s your name?” he asked, coming to a stop in front of you. 
As you introduced yourself, he took a step nearer, leaning down. He wasn’t even that close, but you instantly felt the need to pull him to you. You weren’t sure if he felt it too, but the energy between you was magnetic. 
“Are you new here?” he asked curiously. “I’ve never seen you in my class before.”
“No, I don’t usually take math classes,” you responded. “This is my first and only one, actually. I’m an English major, but it was required.”
“So you’re a senior?” he chuckled. “Waited till the last possible minute to join us, did you?”
You shrugged, embarrassment threatening to overwhelm you. But you didn’t let it show, simply shrugging and smiling at him. “Math isn’t my thing.”
“Well, hopefully I can change that,” he grinned, handing you a syllabus. “Welcome.”
As he started class, you became enthralled with how knowledgeable he was. While most everything went over your head, you found yourself wanting to understand what he was saying. You wanted to impress him, wanted him to be proud of you. So while you would usually space out and succumb to boredom, you actually read the syllabus in its entirety, and took vigorous notes. Even if it was boring, you wanted to hear every word that came out of Changbin’s mouth.
When class was over, and you were packing up, Changbin walked over to the desks, saying goodbye to some of the students. You ignored him, not wanting to come off as too eager.
“It was nice to meet you, Miss English Major,” Changbin said, and you looked up, shocked that he remembered anything about you.
You glowered at him, rolling your eyes playfully. “Is that all you’re going to refer to me as from now on?” you teased.
He shrugged, straightening his shirt and smiling. “Once I get to know you, I’m sure I’ll refer to you as something else. For now, have a good day, Miss English Major.”
——————————
Two weeks passed uneventfully. 
Changbin’s calculus class had started ramping up, and you were barely surviving. Everything was very confusing, and you found yourself blacking out for most of class just staring at your hot professor, instead of learning. All your other courses were a breeze, which left you tons of time to focus on failing to understand basic math. 
You and Changbin had continued to talk, a little bit every day after class. He would ask you about your other courses, mostly about writing and all kinds of grammar. He seemed genuinely interested in you and your life, which was so opposite from any other teacher. He even wanted to know about your personal life, like your family and friends. You told him everything. Except the fact that your friends were dying to meet your aforementioned “hot professor”. It felt nice knowing that he supported you, even if you were inevitably going to fail his class.
You fell into a nice groove, of sorts. You would act cool, funny, even effortless, to his face, and when you got back to your dorm, when none of your roommates were back yet, you would touch yourself to the thought of him. Fantasizing about his rough, strong hands holding your thighs open as he ate you out, or him caging you in between his huge arms as he pounded into you from behind. You couldn’t help it, you were infatuated by him. You wanted him, no matter how terrible you were doing in his class.
All that changed on the Monday of your third week.
“Next week, we’re having our first test,” Changbin announced as he stood at the front of the room. He turned on the projector to display a PowerPoint presentation with information about the test.
It would be thirty percent of your overall grade. One test?? Thirty percent??
You felt your mouth hanging open as you stared up at the screen, then down at Changbin. How could such a kind, handsome man do this to you? Was he trying to make you fail?
Changbin met your eyes, and a smile graced his lips. You snapped your mouth shut, feeling your face warm. He definitely just saw you gaping at him like a fish. Totally smooth.
“I know some of you may be worried, and some of you may not,” he said. “And if you’re one of the former, I would love for you to stay after class and talk to me about it. I know you all have the ability to pass this test. Every answer to every question is in your notes. Study those as hard as you can, and you’ll be more than fine.”
You could feel your heart rate picking up as you thought back on the dozens of pages of notes you’d taken over the past four classes. You couldn’t think  of anything that made sense. How were you supposed to take a test and pass? Let alone one that was worth so much of your grade?
For the rest of the lecture, you could scarcely pay attention as you continued to spiral. Clearly, you should have just taken a different class, hot teacher be damned. To be fair, you hadn’t expected the class to be this hard. 
As the class ended, you started packing up in a daze. You had a morphology course - one of your favorites - next, but you were thinking about skipping it so you could study for this test instead. Even a week straight of studying probably wouldn’t be enough for you to pass, so you needed all the time you could get.
You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice someone calling your name, over and over again.
“Miss English Major! Miss!” Changbin finally called, and your head whipped around to face him, your cheeks warming at the nickname.
“I-sorry, what’s up?” You stumbled over your words, trying not to look completely flustered. From his look of understanding, you knew you had failed.
“Would you like to study with me tonight?” he asked gently, approaching your desk. 
“Ah, why would you think I need extra studying?” you asked quickly.
“I have eyes,” he said with a quiet laugh. “And you look like you’re about to pass out. Really, the test isn’t going to be hard. But like I said earlier, I’m more than willing to tutor any student who needs help. I have the time.”
You sighed. “Am I really that obvious? Or do I just look like an idiot?”
Changbin shrugged, moving so he stood in front of you. “I can tell you’re really smart. You just don’t believe in yourself. So… I’ll see you at six tonight? I’ll bring donuts?”
You relented, grinning. “If you bring glazed donuts, I’m in.”
“Are there any other kinds?” he winked. “See you tonight.”
Oh, you were so done for.
——————————
You arrived at 5:55pm, terrified of being late, or wasting Changbin’s time. You assumed he was so busy already, and you didn’t want him waiting on you.
Seeing as he wasn’t there yet, you just stood awkwardly at the side of the room, unsure if you should pull up a seat by his desk, or just wait for him.
He arrived a few minutes later, carrying a cardboard box from the campus donut shop. Your heart leaped when you saw him, dressed in a casual black t-shirt, zip-up hoodie, and jeans. He would have fit right in as a student. 
“Oh, you’re already here.” Changbin grinned at you, and your face heated. He was so hot when he smiled. 
“I’m always on time,” you pointed out.
“You’re always late to my class,” Changbin chuckled, shaking his head.
“Maybe it’s because I don’t like your class,” you countered.
“Ouch.” He came to sit at his desk. “Here, sit with me.” He motioned to the chair next to his. 
“So, what would you like more help with?” He asked when you got settled.
You sighed. “What don’t I need help with?”
He frowned, tilting his head. “Am I really that bad of a teacher?”
“No!” you said hurriedly. “Math just really isn’t my thing. I probably made a mistake taking a mid-level class. Everything is just really over my head. It’s not your fault.”
“Well, we can start from the beginning,” Changbin conceded. He glanced down at your notebook, which was covered in your neat but hurried scrawl, and even a few shitty doodles at the top of each page. “May I?” he asked, pointing at them.
You nodded, pushing them towards him. 
He took it, and flipped back to the beginning. “You’ve taken really thorough notes,” he complimented, and you blushed. At least you were doing something right.
“I’m trying to pay attention to you.” You smiled weakly.
Changbin started pointing at things in your notes, trying to explain them as thoroughly as possible. You had to admit, he was very good at dumbing down every concept, and even gave you examples of when they might be used in the real world. That tended to be your struggle with math. None of it made any practical sense, it was so abstract. At least with words, they always correlated to a real-world thing, or concept. Math was filled with what-ifs, and you hated that.
As he pointed at your notes, he moved closer and closer to you, his arm brushing yours. Your skin tingled from the touch, almost desperate to feel more of him. His arms were so firm, entirely made of muscle. Of course, you had known that from hours of staring at him. But being this close to him, getting to touch him, was intoxicating, making your mouth water. If only you could reach out and-
“Are you even listening to me?” Changbin’s voice snapped you out of your lusting. 
“Yes! I was just uhh…” you paused, unsure what to say.
He raised an eyebrow at you, pushing his glasses higher up his nose. 
“Ah, no I wasn’t. I’m sorry.” You ducked your head, unable to meet his gaze.
He turned his chair to face yours. “I’m sorry, this is all probably way too much all at once. I should have realized that,” he apologized. “Maybe we should take a five? Then we’ll get back into it.”
You brightened, nodding quickly. “Yeah, that would be great.”
He grinned, sitting back in his chair. “You’re nothing like my usual math students, you know.”
You raised your brows at him. “That sounds like a badly veiled insult, Professor Seo.”
His eyes darkened for a moment at the way you said his name, but he seemed to shake it off immediately. “No, it’s just an observation. You’re very different.”
“How?” Your eyes drifted over to the box of donuts, which sat untouched next to you.
He shook his head at you. “Because of stuff like that. You’re very easily distracted. Just have one, or I’ll never get your attention back.”
You smiled apologetically, before tearing the box open and grabbing a glazed donut. “I can’t believe you actually brought these for me.”
“For you??” Changbin exclaimed. “Nah, I wanted them. You were just an excuse. Pass one here.”
You glared, taking a bite. “Okay that’s rude. I would think you cared more about your struggling student.” You handed him a donut.
He laughed at that before taking a bite too. “Of course I care about you.”
You gazed into his eyes, watching the way his throat moved as he swallowed. Your eyes flickered back up to his, wondering if there might, just might, be a hidden meaning behind that. 
Before you could stop yourself, or fully process what you were doing, you felt yourself moving imperceptibly closer to him, like there was an invisible force pulling you. 
Your face was a mere foot away from his, your eyes remaining locked with his. “How else am I different from the others, Professor?”
He groaned, a low sound deep in his throat, and you saw a flame flicker to life in his eyes. A flame of desire, you wondered? Did he want you just as badly as you wanted him? Had he thought about you in the same way you thought about him? Your stomach twisted with desire, hot and potent. 
Your hand reached out to grip his thigh, desperate to touch him. But before you could make contact, his hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you.
“What-“ you began.
“We can’t do this,” he said. His voice was quiet, but firm. 
“What are you…?” you trailed off, your heart thudding so hard your head hurt. Was he rejecting you right now? After that almost animalistic noise came from him, just by making eye contact?  A noise that would most definitely be used to fuel your nightly desires? “But you were just flirting with me!”
“I was,” he paused, licking his lips. You wanted to know what that tongue tasted like. “But I can’t. You’re my student, and it was incredibly unprofessional of me. I’m sorry.”
You pulled your hand from his grip, moving your chair away from him, fighting to keep your voice steady. “Yes, you’re right. Let’s continue studying.”
“Okay.” Changbin nodded, picking up your notebook again. “Onto lesson two.”
You continued the study session for another hour, before bidding him farewell. He promised that he would continue to help you study for two hours every night, and you agreed. He also demanded that you take the rest of the donuts home, but you refused. It felt wrong, somehow, to take something from him. 
You walked back to your dorm, body burning with shame.
——————————
For the rest of the week, you dutifully attended each study session with Changbin, carefully avoiding any kind of physical closeness with him. You knew that if you got near him again, you wouldn’t be able to control yourself. 
Your thoughts were plagued by images of him. The way he smirked playfully at you when you got a question wrong, the glimmer of pride in his eyes when you got one right. His strong arms as he leaned over your notes, and his tight ass and muscular legs when he stood in front of the chalkboard to write every morning, or give lectures. 
No matter how hard you tried to ignore your growing feelings for him, you couldn’t help it. Every night, you found yourself desperately touching yourself to the thought of him doing unspeakable things to you, imagining it was him ravaging you instead of your vibrator. Him straddling you from above as he pounded into you with that thick cock, instead of your fingers. At this point, you knew it would never happen, but the forbidden, risky aspect turned you on even more.
Finally, the day of the test had arrived. Your heart had been racing with adrenaline. The night before, you had left this very classroom, saying goodnight to Changbin before cramming even more. 
“Good luck, Miss.” He’d smiled at you on your way out.
“Thanks, I’m really gonna need it,” you had replied.
“No you don’t,” Changbin said as you left.
The test had been shockingly easy. You weren’t sure if it was because Changbin purposely made the questions simpler than usual, or if his study sessions really had helped. But you whizzed through that test like never before. It gave you hope that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t absolute shit at math after all.
Now, Changbin was passing out the test results. You hoped your gut instinct that you’d done well was right.
He placed the test on your desk, shooting you a faint smile.
“Well done, Miss English Major,” he whispered, so quiet you could barely hear him.
You peeked at the top right corner, almost afraid of what it said. 
92%.
Your head whipped around to face Changbin, who was now a couple of desks down. 
Holy shit. Not only had you passed, but you passed with an A! How was that possible??
You wanted to run over to him and leap into his arms, but you had to hold yourself back. No one, including Changbin, wanted that.
You would wait until the end of class to celebrate.
As you packed up your bags, Changbin cleared his throat. 
You looked up to see him motioning you towards him. Of course, you couldn’t help but obey.
After the other students had left, you approached him, a huge smile plastered across your face.
“I passed!” you exclaimed, suddenly breathless. “I-I can’t believe it! Thank you.”
He shook his head, unable to hide his smile. “It was all you. You studied harder than I’ve ever seen any student do before. You earned it.”
Before you could stop yourself, you wrapped your arms around his midsection and hugged him.
“Seriously, thank you,” you said quietly. “I’ve never gotten an A on a math test, ever.”
Changbin laughed, and for a split second you thought he was going to hug you back. His arms raised to grab your waist, and your heart thudded in anticipation. You had thought about what it would feel like to be in Changbin’s arms countless times.
But instead, he pushed you away. His movements were gentle, respectful even, like he didn’t want to hurt your feelings.
It did quite the opposite. It stung more to know that he wasn’t an asshole who just wanted a girl's attention, but he thought he was doing the right thing in rejecting you for a second time.
“Well… thanks again,” you said lamely, moving away from him. “I’ll see you next week.”
You practically ran out of the room, tears stinging your eyes. You wouldn’t let yourself get hurt again.
——————————
Changbin stood at the front of his classroom, preparing for that day’s lesson. It was two months into the semester, and about time for another test. The last one had been almost a month and a half ago, and his students were beginning to get complacent. It was his job to make sure they didn’t get too comfortable.
It had also been about a month and a half since he’d properly talked to you. Ever since you had thanked him for all his help on that first math test, you had avoided him. 
He wished you wouldn’t. But you were right to. He would have done the same thing if roles were reversed.
He had rejected you, twice. Those glorious five days tutoring you were some of the best times he’d had in his entire three years as a professor. He’d never met someone half as bright, witty, or funny as you. 
Or as beautiful. 
Let’s be real, fucking sexy.
That first day of class, when he’d turned around and met your gaze, still stuck with him. Those curious yet guarded eyes of yours instantly drew him in, and he’d had to inwardly slap himself just to focus on his job. He’d never let anyone distract him from work before, let alone one of his students. He’d worked hard to get where he was, and ever since he got the job, he’d made a promise to himself never to date a student. From watching his colleagues, it never ended well.
And no one had ever made him question that promise. Until you.
Everything about you intoxicated him. The way you rolled your eyes at his cringey jokes, that little crease in your left eyebrow when you were focusing extra hard, the dimple on your left cheek when you smiled. Your determination to be good at whatever you put your mind to. And something he hadn’t expected: your desire to please him. 
In a strictly professional sense, of course. Or so he convinced himself. Until you two had almost kissed. And he’d told you no. That had to be in the top five of his stupidest moments, and he had a lot of those.
For that whole week, he’d found himself wishing that you would try again. He couldn’t stop thinking about you. When he went home to his empty apartment, he found solace in his hand, thoughts solely on you. About the way it would feel if it was your hand instead of his, gripping his shaft as you stroked him up and down, those nimble fingers knowing exactly where to place more pressure, where to be gentle. That pretty mouth of yours wrapped around him, taking his thick cock to the hilt. And he would cum to the thought of you, knowing that he couldn’t have you.
Even when you hugged him after the test, he still rebuffed your advances. Why? What the hell was wrong with him? He wanted you, you wanted him. It was legal, you were both adults. And yet, he had still rejected you. 
He still thought about you, obsessively so. The more he came to the fantasy of you, the more he became reliant on your presence, craved it, really. He looked forward to seeing you everyday in class, even if you didn’t speak a word to, or barely looked at him. But your beautiful self walking to his class by yourself, gave him a sense of security.
Today, he arrived at class, eagerly awaiting your presence. When he turned around to face the door, slightly concerned because even two minutes into class, you hadn’t arrived, his stomach quite literally dropped.
Because you weren’t alone. 
——————————
Hwang Hyunjin was the smoothest man alive.
You’d noticed him sitting a few seats away from you since the first day of class. He was incredibly smart, but tended to keep his mouth shut. He was always busy writing or drawing something on his notes instead of paying attention, and when you weren’t busy staring at Changbin, you found yourself watching him instead.
The two of you had been paired up for a class discussion, and he mentioned that he loved art. Being the creative that you were, you asked him what he liked to draw, and he showed you some of the doodles he did during class. They were good, really good. 
When he asked you out for coffee a month into the semester, you’d had no choice but to say yes. And you had a great time. 
It was clear that Changbin had no interest in you, so who could blame you for wanting to spend time with another hot guy? Who cared if you still thought about him in the privacy of your dorm, late at night? That was just a phase. Every college girl had a crush on her professor at some point, right? 
You and Hyunjin weren’t really seeing each other, it was casual. So you had never come to class together, or showed any sign that you were interested in each other.
Until today. 
Hyunjin had walked you to class, after treating you to coffee. You were even later than usual, but you found that you didn’t mind.
But when you walked into the classroom, and Hyunjin suddenly grabbed your hand, it was clear that someone minded. They minded a hell of a lot.
Changbin’s eyes seared into the two of you, his gaze roaming over both your and Hyunjin’s faces, before landing on your connected hands. His jaw clenched and unclenched, a vein ticking in his forehead, but he stayed quiet. His fists were pulled tight at his sides, those huge arms flexing in a most mesmerizing way. You couldn’t help but stare. Was there the potential that he was… jealous? 
Of you. Being with another guy.
Before you could think about it further, Changbin cleared his throat, and Hyunjin sat next to you for the first time that semester. 
You should feel giddy that this gorgeous man was sitting with you, but you couldn’t pay attention to anything, except your stud of a professor glaring at Hyunjin like he wanted him to disappear. 
“Today, we’re going to be discussing next week’s test,” Changbin ground out, his teeth gritted so hard you could hear them scraping against one another. “Mister Hwang, do you remember what our first unit after last month’s test was?”
Hyunjin paused next to you, brows furrowed. How was he supposed to remember what you’d learned over a month ago, off the top of his head?
“No Professor, I don’t,” he said evenly. “If I could just check my notes-“
“No, you may not,” Changbin snarled, his eyes narrowed as he stared Hyunjin down. “Clearly, you weren’t paying close enough attention.”
“Professor!” you exclaimed, blood pounding. Why was he targeting Hyunjin all of a sudden? You thought he liked Hyunjin.
“What?” Changbin sneered. “Trying to protect your boyfriend?”
“Just don’t.” You rolled your eyes, looking away from him. 
For the rest of the class, Changbin continued to pick on Hyunjin, calling on him for the hardest review questions, and actually laughing at him when he couldn’t remember.
Finally, when class was over, the two of you made to leave. 
“Miss, please stay behind,” Changbin practically growled, gaze hot on your back.
“Will you be okay?” Hyunjin asked, glancing between the two of you.
You nodded. “Yeah, don’t worry about me. I’ll see you later.”
Hyunjin followed the rest of the class out, casting one last look back at you.
🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍
You stood behind your desk, staring at Changbin. He stared back at you, expression unreadable. Was he upset? Of course he was. He wasn’t very good at hiding that during class. 
He walked to the door and slammed it shut, the force startling you. But when he clicked the lock in place, your chest seized up. What was he doing? 
“Come here.” His voice was soft, yet you could hear him clearly. His face looked calm, but you could see the fire in his eyes as he gazed at you. Your breath caught in your throat as you wordlessly obeyed, coming to stand in front of him.
Was this really going to happen? Was he-
Before you could formulate a proper prediction, his lips were on yours. His hands fumbled at your waist with a desperation you didn’t expect, even in your dirtiest fantasies. He picked you up, grabbing your ass roughly as his plush lips forced your mouth open, sucking and biting with enough pressure that would leave marks in the morning. 
“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Changbin growled against you between kisses. Your hands slid into his hair, clinging to him as you kissed him back with equal strength. 
“What took you so damn long?” you gasped, pressing your tongue into his mouth and rolling your hips against him.
He groaned, the sound low and guttural, before setting you on his desk as gently as he could. He slid a finger under your tank top strap, pushing it down slowly, his gaze devouring your skin rapturously.
“I’ve been so good, so in control,” he breathed as if you were torturing him, his mouth coming to land against the shell of your ear. You shivered at the sensation. “Until today, when you decided to bring that poor Hwang boy along with you. What are you, boyfriend and girlfriend?”
You shook your head quickly. “N-no, it’s casual,” your voice shook despite yourself. “We’ve just been hanging out.”
“You like that he’s willing to give you attention when I wouldn’t?” He leaned down, nipping at your shoulder and collarbone. “Has he fucked you?”
You moaned softly, closing your eyes. “No, of course not,” you whispered. “And even if he had, why would you give a shit? I made a move on you, and you fucking rejected me, twice!”
Changbin let go of you, stepping back. For the first time, he looked embarrassed. Good, as he should. 
“I'm sorry, Princess.” He slid a hand down your arm, skating his fingers across your skin. “I thought I was making the right decision. But… I want you all to myself. Is that so bad?”
You glared at him. But no matter how long you tried to play hard to get, you knew damn well how this was going to end. You needed him too badly.
“Well, you better prove how much you want me, then.”
His mouth curled into a smirk, and your core dampened at the sight. “I thought you’d never ask.”
He pushed you back against his desk, shoving your legs apart, before tugging your denim shorts down your legs and ripping your panties clean in half.
“Changbin!” you gasped. Those were your nice panties, too.
“What? You won’t be needing them,” he smirked, holding them to his nose and inhaling a hungry breath, before tossing them away. “And from now on, you will call me Professor, not Changbin.”
You gaped at him for a moment, before you realized he was watching you expectantly.
“Y-yes… Professor,” you said weakly.
He smiled, kissing your cheek in an uncharacteristically tender way. “That’s my good girl. Now I’ll make you feel the best you’ve ever felt.”
He traveled down the length of your body, pressing kisses to your bare thighs as he went, admiring every inch of you. Your breaths came in short gasps as you laid in anticipation. You didn’t know much, but you were sure that Changbin was experienced when it came to sex.
As he gazed in appreciation at your soaked cunt, he tore his glasses off and set them on the desk, licking his lips. “Gonna need to get close and personal, huh Princess?”
Oh yeah, he was most definitely experienced. 
But nothing could prepare you for the sensation of Changbin’s tongue against your center. He pressed his mouth flat against your clit, swiping his tongue up and down in broad strokes. He covered your entire pussy with his warm, wet mouth before sucking and licking in earnest. 
“Holy shit, yes,” you gasped, your eyes widening as your hips jerked up against his movements.
He grabbed your waist to stop you, his tongue fucking in and out of your cunt as his lips pressed against the sensitive nerves above it. You moaned, your hand finding purchase in his hair as your vision sparked in and out, stars flashing before your eyes.
“Fuck, faster, please,” you begged, tugging his hair as you tried to pull him closer.
“What’s my name again, Princess?” he rasped against your core, his voice interrupted by his continued slurping. 
“P-professor, please,” you whimpered, gazing at him with wide, pleading eyes.
“Fuck, how could I say no to you, Princess,” he snarled against you, yanking your legs open even further as his tongue moved impossibly faster, two of his fingers sliding into your pussy, adding even more squelching sounds to the mix.
The addition of his fingers nearly sent you spinning over the edge, your free hand gripping the side of his desk as your legs shook, your thighs trying to squeeze his head.
“Stay nice and spread for me, Angel,” he sucked hard on your clit, and you sobbed his name over and over, clutching at him like your life depended on it, your entire body vibrating.
“Professor, I-I’m gonna cum, please let me cum!” you begged, squeezing your eyes shut as you ground your hips up against him, this time Changbin allowing you.
“Cum for me, Princess, let me hear you,” Changbin ordered, pressing his tongue in just the right way against your throbbing pussy.
With a strangled cry, you rode out your orgasm against his mouth and fingers as he thrusted them in harder and harder, working you through your release as you crested the peak and came tumbling over, your whole body falling onto the desk in a trembling, sobbing mess.
“Was that good enough for you, Princess?” Changbin licked his lips as he gazed at you smugly, coming to his feet and gazing down at you.
You rolled your eyes, standing up to meet his eyes properly. “It was amazing, Professor,” you murmured against his lips, before kissing him forcefully. The taste of you lingered on his lips.
He kissed you back hungrily, his fingers traveling back between your legs to rub your clit gently, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You licked his bottom lip, grinding against his fingers as you moaned into him. 
“Let me return the favor,” you whispered, pushing him against the desk this time, before kneeling in front of him.
“Let’s just hope you’re better with your mouth than you are at math,” Changbin teased. But you could see the desire flaming in his gaze as he caressed your hair with a rough hand, fully pushing you down onto the floor.
“You don’t have to worry about that, Professor,” you said sweetly, and he groaned, eyes flickering shut.
“No more dawdling Angel, open up.”
You unzipped his black work pants, tugging them down to his knees. Even with his dark gray boxers on, you could tell he was huge, and already hard. Pulling his underwear off, his cock sprang free, angry and red, leaking precum.
Your eyes widened, and Changbin kicked his pants to the side, smirking down at you. 
“Big enough for you, Princess?”
“Perfect, Professor,” you breathed, gripping the base with one hand.
“Ah shit,” Changbin gritted his teeth, his hand already tangled in your hair. “Don’t make me wait too long, Princess. I’ve already been waiting for months.”
You giggled softly, sticking your tongue out and kitten licking the pretty pink tip. He was quite thick, so thick that your hand could barely fit around him. He was about seven inches long, with a pretty vein running along the right side. Your core throbbed at the sight, imagining how well he would fill you up. 
“Fuck,” he snarled, thrusting into your hand impatiently, a bead of precum dribbling onto your skin. “Are you asking me to punish you, Princess?”
You felt your core clench at his words, and you almost hoped he would just flip you over and spank you for disobeying him.
But that could happen later. Instead, you slid his entire length into your mouth, taking him so deep your nose hit his hips. Coarse brown hair tickled your face, and you shut your eyes. 
“Holy-“ Changbin choked out as you began sucking hard and fast, using your hand to rub the base where your mouth couldn’t reach. Your saliva instantly became sloppy, running down his cock and onto his waist.
“Oh fuck yeah, just like that,” he grunted, tugging your hair roughly as he thrust his hips against you, driving his cock further into your mouth. “I bet you just love being my little cockslut, don’t you Princess? You like me using you like this.”
“Mm,” you moaned, sending vibrations up his cock. He shuddered at the sensation, his huge, muscular legs flexing next to you. One of your hands gripped his thigh, the other squeezing his taut ass as you fucked your mouth up and down on him so he didn’t even have to move.
“Oh shit, you do know what you’re doing, don’t you, Slut?” He ran his hand through your hair, and you felt a tinge of pride shoot through you. A thin line of tears dotted your lash line and your jaw hurt, but you didn’t care. He was impressed with you, and that was all that mattered. 
“Only for you, Professor,” you gasped as you took a quick breath, before sliding him back into your mouth. Your hands moved to cup his balls, and he growled, loud and animalistic, against you.
“Fuck Angel, you’re such a good girl for your professor, aren’t you?” he moaned, pulling your hair into two makeshift ponytails as he started fucking against you in earnest.
You started to choke on his harsh ministrations, but you didn’t want him to stop. Your core was so wet, arousal was dripping onto the ground. 
“I’m gonna cum, Princess,” Changbin growled, as his hips stilled. “But I don’t want to cum in your mouth. I want to breed that little pussy of yours. How does that sound?”
“I-it sounds amazing, Professor,” you breathed as you pulled his rock-hard cock out of your mouth.
He grinned, yanking you into another bruising kiss. “That’s my good little Cockslut,” he murmured, picking you up and setting you back on the desk. “This is exactly how I imagined fucking you for the first time. You look so beautiful lying there, all wet and ready for me.”
You whimpered softly, shooting a seductively innocent look at him.
“Fuck, do you know what you do to me, Angel?” He closed his eyes, his body trembling at the sight before him. “Even better than my imagination.”
“You’ve thought about me, Professor?” you said faux-shyly, grabbing his hand and placing it against your core.
“Of course I have, Princess,” Changbin chuckled, opening his eyes again as his fingers roamed over your clit gently. You shivered at his touch. “Who wouldn’t think about ruining a perfect girl like you?”
“I'm not a virgin, Professor,” you pointed out. 
“I know, but you’re perfect,” he responded, stepping closer. “Just look at you.”
“Professor?” you asked softly, gazing at him. “Can I ask just one thing?”
“Anything.”
“Can you take your shirt off?”
Changbin’s eyes flickered in amusement. “Do you like my body, Princess?”
You nodded vigorously. “I love your body. I think about it all the time.”
“I like the sound of that,” he murmured, leaning over and pressing harsh kisses against your neck. “What do you think about?”
“Fuck me, then I’ll tell you,” you breathed against him, starting to undo his shirt buttons.
He tugged the shirt over his head hurriedly, before coming to hover over you again, those perfect, muscular arms of your dreams caging you in. You whimpered at the sensation alone, pulling him closer to you so you could grab his cock, stroking him a few times.
“Fuck yes, Princess,” Changbin choked out, before lining himself up outside of your core. “I need to be inside you right now.”
“I need you inside me too, Professor,” you begged, moving your hips back and forth against his hard cock, wet squelching sounds ensuing as his cock rubbed through your slit. You threw your head back at the overwhelming sensation, moaning into his shoulder.
“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he pulled your face up and kissed you once. Then, screwing up his eyes, he slid his entire cock into you in one harsh thrust.
“O-oh shit!” you cried, eyes widening and hands coming to grab his broad shoulders. He filled you perfectly, his girth stretching you deliciously, that vein rubbing against your walls just right. “Fuck Professor, you feel so good inside me.”
“God, you feel heavenly Princess,” he croaked, his voice hoarse. “Can I move? Please, tell me I can move.”
“Please move, now,” you gasped, fingernails digging into his back. “Don't be gentle with me, Professor. I can take it.”
“Yeah? We’ll see about that, Angel.” Before you could say anything else, he pulled all the way out, leaving you feeling incredibly empty, before thrusting back in with all his strength. 
You squealed, fingers scrambling for purchase against him, as he pounded in and out of your tight, wet pussy over and over, filthy noises filling the classroom. 
You whimpered against his neck, pressing harsh kisses against him as he thrusted in and out, balls slapping your pussy as he went harder and faster. His cock slammed against the spongy part inside of you, causing you to cry out and clench around him.
“Ah shit, Princess, ease up a bit!” he grunted, nipping your neck as his hips stuttered against yours.
“Y-you just feel so good,” you sobbed. “Please fuck me harder, don’t stop, please, Professor.”
Changbin listened, continuing to hit that sensitive spot over and over again until you were a babbling mess, unable to say anything except “Professor”.
“Fuck baby, can you stand?” Changbin demanded into your ear.
“Y-yes Professor,” you breathed, and before you could stop him, he was carrying you over to the chalkboard, and setting you down, so your face was towards the board, ass presented to him.
“Well shit, don't you look like a treat,” he whispered, slapping your ass with a calloused hand, before trapping you between his arms once more, his mouth against your neck. 
You gasped at the stinging sensation of his hand against your skin, but it wasn't fully because of the pain. Him slapping you felt good. What did you have to do for him to do it again?
His fingers traveled between your legs again, feeling the dripping wetness that gathered there. You felt him smirk against you.
“Did my Princess like it when I spanked her? Does she like it when she gets punished?”
You nodded vigorously, closing your eyes. Was he going to think you were disgusting for liking something so violent? 
Changbin started chuckling, and you glanced back at him. Did he find this funny?
“I might have underestimated you, Sweetheart,” his hands traveled up to your breasts and squeezed, making you squeal. “I guess you were right. You’re more of a whore than I thought.”
“N-no Professor, I’m a good girl,” you gasped, rubbing your ass against him as you begged for him to hit you again. “I just need you so bad, please.”
“You want me to hit you again?” Changbin snickered. “Okay, I can hit you again. Anything for my princess.”
He stepped away from you, leaving your skin cold. You missed his hulking presence warming you, his huge arms caging your body. 
You watched with wide eyes as he stepped back to his desk and picked something up. What was he doing? He couldn’t leave you hanging like this.
But when you saw what he had in his hand, you knew he very much was not leaving you hanging. He was just getting started.
“A ruler?” you said softly, staring at the wood strip in his hand. Your core pulsed at the sight, causing more arousal to slide down your thigh. Fuck, you wanted it.
“You said you wanted to get slapped, didn’t you, Princess?” he challenged.
You nodded, trying to hide your desire. If Changbin saw how much you needed this, he might deny you.
“Yes, Professor,” you responded, not moving from your position at the chalkboard.
“Good, Angel,” he approached you with a satisfied grin on his face. “So, are you ready for your test?”
“Test?!” you squeaked. You hadn’t expected that. You’d hoped he would just slap you with the ruler a few times, then fuck you silly.
“You’re going to have a math test in a few weeks, aren’t you?” He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you want me to tutor you still?”
You nodded furiously. You would fail without him.
“Well, consider this our first session.” He came to stand behind you, running the ruler up and down your thigh a few times. 
You shivered despite yourself. You would do anything he wanted at this point.
“So, answer this problem, Princess. The axes of two right circular cylinders of radius A intersect at a right angle. Find the volume of the solid of intersection of the cylinders.”
You gasped at him, speechless. You had no idea what any of that meant. Solid of intersection? You were an English major, for god’s sake!
“I-I don’t know Professor!” you whispered, body quivering as you waited for his response.
Changbin tutted quietly, pacing back and forth behind you. You tried to watch him, but he kept going in and out of your line of sight.
“What a shame.” His voice was dangerously low. 
Suddenly, the ruler came slashing through the air, landing across the center of your ass. You let out a loud gasp, covering your mouth before you could curse or yell. 
“Chang- Professor, what the hell?” you exclaimed, whipping around to face him.
“Did that stir up any potential answers?” Changbin said smoothly, ignoring your protest. “Please turn back around, Angel. We're not done yet.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but you caught that steely look in his eyes, and obeyed. 
“Well?” he prompted. “Anything?”
“N-no, Professor,” you said meekly. “We haven’t learned anything half that difficult yet.”
This time, as the ruler made contact with your ass again, you were prepared. You bit your lip so hard it almost drew blood, but you had to admit, it felt… nice. The stinging sensation it left after the pain was gone was incredible. 
“Fine, if you can't come up with even a guess, how about this. What is the mathematical perception of the gradient said to be?”
You paused, thinking the question over. You knew Changbin had talked about this in a lesson at some point, but it had been a while ago…
“Is it tangent?” you said with a little smile. You knew the answer was wrong but… you also didn't mind.
“I’m sorry, Princess,” Changbin grinned, and the stinging pain of the ruler raced across your skin.
You let out a stifled moan, squeezing your eyes shut as hard as you could. Oh god, did Changbin hear that? He was going to think you were such a whore.
Changbin set the ruler down on his desk and slid a hand around your waist, breaths coming hard and fast against your neck. You whimpered softly, unable to look back at him. 
“I knew you liked that, you little Pain Slut,” he snarled into your ear, nipping the lobe. “You're my little Pain Slut, aren’t you?”
“Y-yes, only yours!” you exclaimed. “P-please Professor, fuck me again.”
“Mm, you're just insatiable aren’t you?” he snickered, his hand coming down onto your ass cheek, sharp and hard. “Now say thank you, Professor.”
You cried out, your core soaking wet. “Th-thank you Professor!” You forced out through the blinding pleasure.
His hand came down on your other cheek. “Again.”
“Thank you, Professor!” you moaned, turning your face to him and pressing your lips against his. 
He didn't pull away, as the hand he used to spank you wound around your leg, lifting it up so your body was still facing the chalkboard, but your lips were attached to his. 
“I’m gonna fuck you like this now, Angel, down and dirty. I’ll bet you like it like this, don't you? Seducing your poor professor, and letting him have his way with you in his classroom. That's exactly what you wanted, wasn't it?”
“No, I didn't mean to seduce you,” you mumbled against his mouth, as he positioned his hard, heavy cock outside your entrance. “You're just so hot and smart, and I wanted you so bad. But you kept rejecting me so I gave up, remember?”
“How do I know that little boyfriend wasn't just part of your plan to get me to change my mind?” Changbin challenged, finally breaking the kiss. 
“Well, if it was, it worked, didn't it?” You teased him. “Now are you going to fuck me or not?”
Changbin growled deep in his throat, thrusting his hips slowly against you, running his cock through your wet folds. “I’ll fuck you when I’m ready to fuck you, Princess. Not sure you deserve it, with all the stunts you’ve pulled. And you didn't even get that easy math problem right.”
You giggled softly. “If I get it right, will you fuck me properly? Nice and rough?”
He paused, like he was pondering the question. “Sure, Angel. What’s the right answer?”
You turned around, pressing your lips against his ear gently. You watched in satisfaction as he shivered. Thank god he was holding your leg up, or you would be numb by now. “It’s the slope,” you whispered to him, lips curling in a smile. You knew you were right.
“Mm, you knew the right answer the whole time, didnt you, Slut?” Changbin shook his head at you, a hungry glint in his eyes. “But you were a good girl, listening to your Professor so well. So I guess you get a reward.”
“Yes please, Professor.” You immediately started begging at the prospect of his cock inside of you. “Please fuck me now.”
“It takes a lot of self control to stay away from you,” Changbin groaned. “Self control that I clearly do not have.” 
This time, he thrusted into you nice and slow, one inch at a time. You gasped loudly as he shoved you up against the chalkboard, still holding your leg up, as he began pounding in and out of you mercilessly. 
“Fuck, this pussy was made for me, Angel,” he hissed into your hair, breathing deeply as he did so. “So tight and wet, squeezing me perfectly. You hear that? This pussy is all mine.”
“Yes, it’s all yours,” you wailed, fucking your hips back against his, forcing his cock to impale you to the hilt. “You feel so good inside of me, Professor.”
“Mm, hell yeah I do baby.” His huge arm wrapped all the way around your waist, trapping you entirely as he hammered in and out, the lewd sounds of his length thrusting turning you on even more.
“Fuck, Professor please touch me!” you begged, grabbing his arm that was holding your leg up and sliding it towards your clit. 
“You’re such a greedy little girl, aren’t you?” he sneered, pressing rough kisses up and down your collarbone, sucking harsh bruises along your soft skin. “I can’t deny you though, can I?”
His fingers slid over your sensitive nerves and rubbed in rushed, frantic circles as his hips pounded against yours, causing the entire chalkboard to shake and rattle. 
“O-oh yes Professor just like that,” you panted, your legs nearly failing as he turned your entire body to jelly. 
“Don't give up on me now, Princess,” Changbin warned as he spun you around and picked you up, not removing his cock from your throbbing pussy. “You don’t cum until I do, you hear?”
“Of course, Professor,” you whimpered helplessly, the new position hitting spots inside of you you hadn’t known even existed. “Please go harder!”
“Just for you, baby,” Changbin ground out, and he started bouncing you up and down on his huge length.
The vein on his cock slid against your nerves addictively as you wrapped your shaking legs around his waist, clinging to his beefy arms desperately. Your core throbbed as you tried to be a good girl and hold your orgasm back, but it was coming.
“Please Professor, let me cum!” you pleaded, pressing kisses up and down his huge pecs, sobbing into his chest. “I’m so close, I’ve been so good!”
Changbin grunted against you as he bullied his cock deeper and deeper into your cunt, hitting your g-spot over and over while you pleaded incoherently to please, please let you cum.
“Shit, okay, cum for me baby,” he hissed.
You didn't need to be asked twice. Your hips shook against him so violently you thought you were going to pass out. Stars blinked in and out of your vision as you cried, “Professor, please!” once, your pussy clenching around his cock like a vice, as he pounded his cock infinitely faster. His fingers pressed against your clit, and you were done for. You exploded around him in a puddle of whimpers and moans, clutching onto him for dear life.
“Holy shit baby, you’re so fucking hot,” Changbin panted, squeezing his eyes shut, his thrusts becoming more jerky and unstable. “I’m so fuckin’ close, Princess, gonna cum inside that slutty little pussy of yours, yeah?”
“Oh fuck, please give me your cum Professor!” you begged, moving your hips in time with his. “Want you to breed me like the good girl I am!”
“Fuck Angel, you really want it?” Changbin hissed, his hips stuttering as his lips smashed up against yours again. “You wanna feel my hot cum inside you?”
“Yes Professor, please, I need it,” you breathed against his mouth, biting his bottom lip and sucking it into your mouth. 
Changbin thrusted sloppily in and out a few more times, his breaths stilted and hoarse, before halting entirely inside of you. You felt his warm cum fill your pussy, ropes and ropes of hot, sticky liquid, and you let out a shaky moan, closing your eyes at the sensation.
As he was about to put you down and pull out, you shook your head, gripping his arms.
“P-please, stay inside.” Your legs tightened around his waist. His softening cock felt so good, keeping his warm cum inside you. You didn’t want him to let go, not yet.
“You like me cockwarming you, Princess?” Changbin’s cock stiffened at your actions, and you nodded.
“You feel so good inside of me,” you sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“I bet I do,” he said cockily, and you slapped his arm.
“Way to ruin the moment, Changbin,” you glared.
He laughed, finally letting go of you and setting you back on the ground. 
“I'm kidding, baby.” He pressed his lips against yours, much more tender this time. You melted against him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close. 
“I like the confidence.” You giggled against his lips, before breaking apart. “I should probably go. I've got another class in an hour, and I don’t want to walk in looking like this.”
“I wouldn't want that either,” Changbin observed. “You might get dress-coded. Or arrested.”
When you were both dressed and semi-cleaned up, you waved goodbye to Changbin.
Changbin waved back, a little smirk on that handsome face of his. 
“So, we on for another study session tonight?”
You smirked, biting your bottom lip before replying: “Yes, Professor.”
laska's note — wow, this one shot took me forever to finally finish! but i wanted it to be perfect you y'all, so i spent a long time figuring out the plot and exactly how i wanted everything to go. i really hope you enjoyed it, because i'm kinda proud of how this turned out. i'm sorry for the slow ass updates, but again it's just supposed to be for fun! hopefully i'll get some more content out soon. leave any comments about what you liked, i love reading them! until next time... 😏💋
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elliesbelle · 10 months
Text
how much i need you
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ellie williams one-shot
pairing: ellie x reader
synopsis: you don’t want to love your ex-girlfriend anymore, not when you know you’ll never amount to the girls she's loved before. maybe one day, she’ll realize how much she needs you.
content warnings: cursing, angst, break-up, ellie and reader are both in their mid-20s, joel is alive and never went golfing, descriptions of weapons, mentions of cannibalism, depictions of physical violence and blood, mentions of weight loss, mentions of death, extremely dark themes in general (proceed with caution), minors do not interact
word count: 10.5k
title based on lyric from the olivia o’brien song “hate u love u”
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“I don’t think I can take it anymore.”
“Wh-what? What do you mean by that?”
“If you can’t get over this, I don’t think I can be with you anymore.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Yeah. I do.”
“E-Ellie.”
The silence between you two screamed in wounded agony. You’d been arguing for the past hour in Ellie’s garage. It was the same argument you’d been having for the past two weeks: Ellie and Cat. Ellie and Dina. Being constantly surrounded by remnants of her love life was crushing you. And even more so that she’d still banter, still flirt. And it cut you every single time.
Ellie would assure you that it was all platonic, that it was normal, the way she spoke to them. That there hasn’t been anything between her and either of them in years.
But how do you forget your first love? Who you had all your firsts with? And how do you forget your most recent ex-girlfriend? Especially one that you still remain best friends with?
You were growing tired of the jealousy. And Ellie was growing tired of your insecurity.
“Just go.” She finally murmurs.
You stare at her blankly.
“B-baby, please.” You whimper.
“I…I don’t think you should call me that anymore.”
“Wh-what?” Your vision was blurry from the tears streaming down your cheeks, falling relentlessly.
“J-just go.”
Ellie still loved you. She loved you more than she was ever able to say. She loved you more than she ever loved Cat. And even more than she ever loved Dina. She believed for the longest time that you could be her person. But maybe not. Maybe not if you just couldn’t deal with her history, her baggage.
“Please, no,” You beg. “Please don’t do this.”
Ellie remains silent as she walks over to the door to open it, signalling you to leave.
No matter how much you bawled and blubbered, Ellie stood her ground.
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That’s how you spent the next month: weeping hysterically and enshrouding yourself in your misery.
You spoke only when needed, giving empty and lifeless half-smiles. Others attempted to inquire about the change in your behaviour, much too frequently that Maria had to step in and demand that they stop.
Nevertheless, it wasn’t difficult for them to guess why your once pleasant disposition turned joyless. People no longer saw you with Ellie, only ever catching glimpses of you when you tended to your duties or grabbed supplies or food that you’d eat alone in the sanctuary of your own home.
Ellie hadn’t spoken to you since that day. She hadn’t even asked after you, fearing that she'd come grovelling if she kept tabs on you.
Jesse, who was a patrol leader, and Maria, who was in charge of assignments, took pity on you and no longer appointed you to take part in the daily task of safeguarding Jackson. It was a harrowing job and they saw that your weakened emotional state would not benefit from constant threats of peril.
You didn’t mind this, convinced you were a shit patrol partner anyway. Stealth was usually your strong suit, but that didn’t benefit you much when you came face-to-face with actual danger. You didn’t have the muscles or the brawn to fight threats head-on.
Instead, you spent your days in the greenhouses. It didn’t require much socializing, and the manual labour tired you out, so much so that you could attempt to focus on your fatigue instead of your feelings.
And the plants were hopeful, innocent, forgiving. When you were alone, it was the one place that you still allowed yourself to hum and sing. Everywhere else in Jackson was tainted with memories of your ex-girlfriend, even your own home. But here in the solace of blooming greenery, you could feign a sense of happiness and croon quiet melodies of Etta James and Sam Cooke to the flourishing sprouts.
You knew your life didn’t revolve around Ellie. You knew that. Yet even so, you spent all your time thinking about her late at night when you inevitably couldn’t sleep. You remained a prisoner of your mind as the countless reminders of her you’d been hit with all over Jackson that day would replay in your head.
Every day when you’d make your way to the greenhouses, you were forced to pass by Joel’s house and see the little garage Ellie’d converted into her home. You’d go into the main square and walk by people who used to ask after you when you’d come into town with her, but whose faces no longer turned your way to even spare you a morning greeting. It was Ellie who was important around here, anyway, not you. Walking into the supplies shop or the Tipsy Bison met you either with the same treatment or with pitying expressions, neither of which you noticed much over miserably spotting Ellie’s favourite snacks or her usual brand of alcohol.
Jackson was always more Ellie’s than yours. You loved this town and of course it was home to you. But you’d only arrived a few years back, whereas Ellie had resided here since she was 14. There was no Jackson for you without Ellie. And every breath you took in this town felt like a bittersweet knife being shoved down your throat.
You’d made a few friends since you first arrived in town. But you’d always been closest to Ellie and her group, even before she and you’d started dating. After your break-up, your social routine was disrupted and you made no efforts to confide in others, though a few tried.
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The day after Ellie dismissed you from her garage, you heard fervent knocking on your front door around noon. It was your day off and you’d woken up from beneath a throw blanket on your living room couch, having fallen asleep while sobbing into the cushions for a couple of hours. You pulled the sheet over your head and ignored the knocking, preferring the warmth of the blanket over your cold, new reality. You tried to shut your eyes and will for the unwanted visitor to give up and leave, but you relented when you heard the sound of Jesse’s voice ceaselessly calling out your name and threatening to break your front door down.
Jesse had just gotten back from an early morning patrol with Ellie. He’d spent much of the dawn pressing her about her silent and despondent behaviour, and after she gave in and confessed the previous night’s tragic events, he headed straight for your house just seconds after they reentered the gates of Jackson.
Jesse was greeted with your sorry, pathetic state: lips puffy yet cracked as a result of your anxious nipping and biting, a halo of crust around your eyes from your incessant tears the night before, clothes completely askew and clearly slept in. You offered him an insincere smile, one that didn’t reach your eyes.
“Hey, sorry,” You said, voice cracking. “I was sleeping.”
“In your patrol clothes from yesterday?” Jesse inquired.
You gave him a shrug.
“Listen, dude,” He began. “I heard about what happened last night and I wanted to make sure that—“
“Oh, yeah, that. It’s okay. I’m okay.” You interrupted, waving him off.
“Come on, man, I know that you’re—“
“I mean, I’m sad and all, but what are you gonna do, you know?”
“—not okay, you don’t have to pretend otherwise.”
You gave Jesse another wistful smile.
“Look, I gotta go get showered and everything, but I’ll see you all for dinner later at the Tipsy Bison, okay?”
You closed the door on him before he could respond, having no intentions of meeting up with him or any of your friends that night.
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You didn’t open your door for visitors again after that day. Jesse passed by later that evening after you didn’t show, but you kept all the lights off in your house and ignored his yelling and knocking ‘til he eventually gave up for the night.
About a week or so after that day, you were walking out of your house for your assigned morning patrol when you were stopped in your tracks by the sight of one of the last people you wanted to see at that moment.
Dina’s right hand was outstretched as if she was about to knock on your door. She looked just as shocked as you when you locked eyes.
“Oh, shit! Sorry, you scared me.” Dina said, exhaling with a quiet laugh.
“Sorry” was all you muttered in response.
You closed and locked the front door as Dina watched you with a doleful gaze.
“Hey, so,” She started. “I…I know that you and Ellie broke up. She told me a little bit about what happened that night, and I just wanted to say that I’m sorry if I ever caused any problems between you two and that I think she was seriously wrong for breaking up with you.”
You were barely processing her words, focusing your gaze instead on a crooked post in the brown picket fence that surrounded your house. You started feeling dizzy and you were struggling to remain upright and grounded.
“Umm, I totally forgot that I had something to do before patrol today. Can you tell Tommy and Joel that I’ll be a little late? Thanks, D.”
You rushed through your excuse before quickly unlocking and disappearing behind your front door, shutting it in Dina’s face the same way you’d done with Jesse.
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That was the same day that Maria graciously told you she was taking you off the patrol rotation as you never showed up for your shift. Since then, the greenhouses have been your home away from home. You would arrive during the early hours of the morning before the sun had even graced the sky, and you’d leave only after most of Jackson was sound asleep in their beds. It was barely a life, but in a world where the alternative was being on the outside to be subjected to murderous demons, both of the monster and human variety, you couldn’t be completely ungrateful.
On a cold, snowy day where most of Jackson remained huddled in the shelter of their homes, Maria paid you a visit in the plant nurseries.
You were in a secluded corner away from the others who were also stationed as gardeners, repotting some seedlings into larger buckets. No one tried speaking to you anymore these days, not unless it was absolutely necessary. So when you heard the sound of Maria’s voice from behind you, you nearly dropped your shovel.
“Sorry to interrupt your work, hun,” Maria says apologetically. “But it’s urgent.”
“O-oh, okay.” You mutter, still reeling from the shock of being spoken to. “Is-is everything okay?”
“Well, half the town right now has dropped like flies because of this crazy flu that’s been going around. I’ve barely got anyone for patrols this week since most of them can’t even hold a pistol or stay upright on their horses.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” You respond, almost impassive. You had no idea how any of this pertained to you.
“Now, I hate to have to ask you this,” Maria began slowly. “But do you think I can put you back on the patrolling schedule until more of my guys can recover? I wouldn’t be asking, but I really don’t have anyone left to send out there and you’re already trained and know the routes and everything.”
You froze. You had little desire to break out of your mundane everyday routine, and you were also extremely rusty when it came to patrolling. But Maria was always kind to you and was understanding enough to take you off the patrol rotation in the first place. You owed her.
“You really don’t have anyone?” You ask.
“I’m desperate, hun,” Maria states. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”
You sigh.
“When do you want me to start?”
“Tomorrow, your usual time in the morning.” She says. “That okay with you?”
“Yeah, I guess that’s fine.” You reply. “Which route?”
“I’ll give you a fairly easy one for tomorrow, give you a chance to get reacquainted with the road again. And don’t worry,” She adds. “I won’t pair you with her.”
You feel a sizeable lump in your throat, merely nodding in acknowledgement to who she was referring to.
“Okay. Tomorrow then.”
“Thank you, hun. It’s only temporary, I promise. You’ll be back in here before you know it. Do you want the rest of the day off today to prep?”
“No, it’s okay,” You reply, shaking your head. “I’ll be fine.”
“Alright, just maybe take it easy and don’t wear yourself out today. And go home early. I want you to rest up.”
You nod once more before returning to your busy work. You feel Maria’s hand on your shoulder and your body tenses up from the sudden physical contact, not having been touched by someone else in so long.
“Thanks again, sweetheart. I’m real grateful. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
You feel Maria’s hand withdraw from you before she exits the greenhouse, leaving you with immediate dread and regret.
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The next morning came quicker than you’d liked. Unable to sleep, you’d woken up an hour earlier than needed and spent that time preparing for patrol. You prepared the essentials in your backpack: a medkit, flashlight, a water bottle, a few snacks.
Attached to the front pocket of your bag was a little pin of a moon in its third quarter. Ellie’d found it on a patrol with Joel over a year ago and gifted it to you to match her spaceship pin on her own backpack. You hadn’t noticed you still had it on yours and contemplated removing it. In the end, you kept it on.
The sun was nowhere to be seen behind the thick grey clouds that scattered flurries all around Jackson. Though it would complicate and prolong patrols, you used to love it when it’d snow. It brought a certain kind of beauty that balanced out the dead and dark winter.
You had countless memories of you and Ellie in the snow: you gleefully rushing to the window when seeing it fall from the sky for the first time in the year and Ellie quietly admiring the way your face lit up every time, challenging each other to a snowball fight where Ellie would decimate you with no mercy to which you’d punish her for by stuffing handfuls of snow down her shirt, attempting to build a snowman in front of your house that ended up looking more like a blobfish instead and who you’d both affectionately named Puddles.
But now as you silently stomped through shallow puddles towards the stables, you curse the sky for ungenerously sending the white powder on a day you just wanted to be over as soon as it began.
You get to the stables, nodding at the stablehands with a curt smile, and walk up to your horse, Cleopatra. You smile as you brush her mane lightly with your fingers.
“Hey, old gal,” You sigh. “Sorry for being away so long.”
You then head to the armoury, planning to stock up on weaponry for the trip. As you’re loading a pistol, you hear someone join you from behind.
Dina comes up beside you and begins to load a shotgun. You work in silence for a few moments before she speaks.
“Hey,” She greets. “Jesse told me you were back on the patrol rotation.”
“Temporarily,” You correct her. “Just a favour to Maria while people are out sick.”
“Right,” Dina says. “You gonna be alright?”
“Mhmm” was all you say as you load a rifle.
“Well, don’t die out there!” Dina attempts at a joke.
“No promises.” You mutter as you exit the armoury.
You return to the stables to grab Cleopatra, walking past others preparing for their patrols as well. After a stableboy hands your her reins, you walk her out of the paddock and towards the large gates.
Spotting Jesse, you and Cleopatra head over to his direction while he gives orders to a couple of patrollers who looked like they’d never stepped outside the walls of Jackson in their lives. As they walk away, Jesse spots you walking towards him and his face breaks out in a smile.
“Maria told me you were coming!” He says jovially, giving you a one-arm hug that you tepidly return.
“Who are you sending me out with?” You ask, not wishing to engage in small talk.
“This guy Antoine,” Jesse replies. “He’s about our age and works in the stables, but Maria recruited him temporarily.”
You nod.
“Sorry to put you with someone new,” Jesse continues. “We’re trying to pair newbies with people with experience so we’re not sending people to their deaths out there.”
“You sure you want to send him out with a shit patroller like me?” You say.
“Oh, stop that,” Jesse reprimands. “You’re an excellent partner.”
You hum in disagreement and say nothing. Jesse leads you to where a tall, blonde man you assumed was Antoine who was standing and holding the reins of a horse you remembered was named Pink. He introduces you and talks about which route you’d been assigned to, and you and Antoine politely nod at each other before lining up with the rest of the patrollers right in front of the gates.
As Tommy and Joel give their usual speech on what to look out for and updates on what had been encountered on recent patrols, you suddenly feel a sense of dread wash over you. Ellie had walked up to join Dina, who was her patrol partner that day, with her horse Shimmer by her side. Your eyes betray you as they unwittingly fall on her casually conversing with Dina, laughing at a joke she seemed to have said. Tearing your gaze away from the sight, you don’t realize that seconds after you’d stopped looking at her, Ellie’s face drops as her eyes fall on you.
Once Tommy finishes a spiel on raiders having spotted nearby and warning against them, he and Joel nod everyone off to proceed with their duties as the sentries finally open the gates. You mount Cleopatra as Antoine does the same with Pink, and you start to pull at her reins to depart when you suddenly hear hoofbeats clopping towards you. Your face drains of blood as you see Ellie on Shimmer coming up to your side.
“Hey.” She says as she pulls Shimmer to a stop.
You try to work yourself up to greet her back but your mouth remains silent.
“I, umm, saw you got put back on patrols.” She mutters.
You muster up enough of your voice to mutter back, “For now.”
“Well, uhh. Be careful out there.” She cautions.
Unable to hold back a scoff, you say, “You don’t care.”
Before Ellie can respond, you tap Cleopatra lightly with your foot and jerk at her reins to signal her to move forward. You hear Ellie trying to call you, but you force yourself not to look back as you ride Cleopatra out of Jackson.
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Antoine was the perfect patrol partner, in that he remained silent for most of your round. He seemed to sense that you were in no mood for small talk and only spoke in response to any directions you gave.
Maria upheld her promise of giving you a fairly easy route to scout. You and Antoine hadn’t encountered any Infected or otherwise throughout most of the patrol. After searching a nearby abandoned neighbourhood a little past noon, you decide that it was time to make the journey back to Jackson.
However, it seemed that Antoine, who had never been outside the walls of the town, was reluctant to leave.
“Wait, I kind of want to explore a little more.” He says, refusing to mount his horse Pink and heading into the empty house where he had her reins tied to the fence.
“Antoine!” You call out after him, having already mounted Cleopatra and readied yourself to leave. Antoine ignores you as he disappears behind the front door. You curse under your breath as you hop off your horse.
“Get your ass back here!” You yell as you cross the threshold of the house. You explore the place, scanning each room in an attempt to find the blonde man who you desperately wished to throttle.
You find him in one of the bedrooms upstairs, reading through a comic book he’d found in a small bookshelf in a corner. The front cover had an array of superheroes in nonsensical outfits, looking as if they were fighting in some war in outer space. You ignore the voice in your head that thought about how it looked like something Ellie would find fascinating.
“What the fuck are you doing?” You demand.
“I can’t believe this is really shit that they had back in the old world. Whoever lived here has like, fifty of these.” Antoine says.
“Who the fuck cares, Antoine,” You angrily seethe. “We shouldn’t be out here too long. There could be Infected around.”
“We just checked out the whole neighbourhood and there wasn’t anything. Lighten up a little.” He replies.
“Just because we haven’t seen anything, it doesn’t mean there isn’t anything out there!”
“Look, this is my first time outside of Jackson. I just want to enjoy it for a little bit before I get stuck back on stable duty.”
“You wanna enjoy being out here where you could get ripped apart by monsters at any sec—” Your tirade was interrupted when the butt of a gun knocks you out.
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Ellie and Dina were just returning from their patrol after being delayed by a group of Infected in a nearby grocery store. Trotting through the gates with their horses Shimmer and Japan, they were laughing over some ridiculous pun Ellie had just made and didn’t notice Jesse sprinting towards them.
“Jesus, fuck, thank god you’re both back.” He says as Tommy follows behind him.
“Sorry, man, had to clear out that grocery store about ten miles west. Had like, ten runners in there waiting for us.” Ellie explains, laughter still resonating in her voice.
Dina, noticing the serious look on Jesse’s face, eyes him warily.
“Wait, what’s wrong?” She asks him.
“You’re…you’re not the only ones who hadn’t returned yet.” He replies.
Ellie’s face falls slightly as she finally realizes the gravity of the situation.
“Oh shit, who else hasn’t gotten back?”
“It’s just one other pair who seems to be running late.” Tommy says, having caught up to the trio. Jesse gives him a warning look in response.
“Wait, who?” Dina asks, dismounting from Japan.
Jesse and Tommy unwittingly look at Ellie at the same time before sharing an anxious look. Ellie narrows her eyes.
“Who, Tommy?” She asserts.
Tommy opens his mouth to speak but immediately shuts it as Ellie’s face shifts from confusion to understanding. She pulls at Shimmer’s reins, urging her to turn around and retreat from the gates of Jackson once more. Jesse dashes forward and stops Shimmer in her tracks.
“We don’t know what’s happened yet, Ellie. They could have just gotten held back by something.”
“Fucking move, Jesse.” Ellie spits.
“She’s a smart girl, El. I’m sure she’ll be back soon.”
“I swear to god, dude, I will run you over.”
“What route did you assign them to?” Dina asks.
“The one that goes southeast and follows the river into that abandoned town about fifteen miles east.”
“Tommy!” Jesse chides, having withheld that information on purpose.
“Great. Thanks, Tommy.” Ellie says, urging Shimmer to walk past Jesse before Dina steps in front of her as well.
“Ellie, that’s a real easy route. I’m sure she’s fine.” Dina assures.
“She’s with that dumbass stableboy who’s never been outside of the town, much less held a gun before. If nothing’s happened, they would be back by now.”
“She knows how to take care of herself, kid.” Tommy chimes in. “I’m sure that the snow just delayed their return, that’s all.”
“Just give them an hour, dude,” Jesse adds. “If they’re not back by then, we’ll send a few people out to search.”
“A lot can happen in a fucking hour, Jess,” Ellie retorts. “I’m not leaving it up to chance.”
“What’s going on?” A voice behind the group says. They all turn to see Maria walking towards them.
“These fucking assholes won’t let me go after my fucking girlfriend.” Ellie hisses.
“Ex.” Jesse corrects her. Ellie shoots him a menacing look.
“Did they also tell you that we’re ready to go out and look for them if they don’t return soon?” Maria says, ignoring the exchange.
“I can do it right now.” Ellie replies stubbornly.
“You’ve been out patrolling all day, hun. I’m sure you’re tired. I’ve already gathered a group of people to help search the area if they don’t get back soon.”
“But—”
“Don’t let your guilt make you do something stupid, Ellie.” Maria interrupts with a tone of finality.
Ellie stares at her as Jesse pats her leg.
“She’s a smart girl, Ellie.” He repeats. “I’ll go out with the searching party myself too if they don’t get back soon.”
“Wait!” Dina yells, looking past the gates. “I see something!”
The group all focus their gaze on the direction she’s pointing at, making out a couple of figures approaching. Ellie breathes a sigh of relief when she makes out the outline of two horses approaching, but the moment is short-lived when the sight, which was originally obscured by the snow, reveals only one person riding on horseback.
Ellie dismounts from Shimmer as Antoine finally crosses the border of the town. She makes a beeline for him, angrily grabbing at his shirt and almost ripping him off Pink.
“Where the fuck is she? Why the fuck are you alone?!” She demands as Dina and Jesse tear her off him, allowing him to properly get down from his horse.
“I–we–I don’t…” Antoine begins to stutter.
“Speak, boy.” Tommy demands.
“I don’t…I don’t know where she is.” Antoine admits.
Maria, ignoring Ellie’s various curses and swearing, moves forward to speak.
“What the hell does that mean, Antoine?” She asks coolly.
“We got ambushed at the town we were patrolling, we were inside a house and they snuck up behind us, they knocked her unconscious and I was able to get away before they could get to me.” He replied so quickly that they almost didn’t catch what he was saying.
“So you fucking left her?” Ellie growls.
“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know what else to do!”
“We gave you a gun, you were put into training beforehand,” Jesse scolds. “You’re partners for a reason. You’re supposed to fucking look out for each other.”
“I-I panicked. There were several of them and they were all big guys and—”
“It should have fucking been you instead!” Ellie screams, lunging towards Antoine before Tommy catches her and holds her back.
“What did they look like? Did they say anything? Anything at all that can lead to where they might have brought her?” Maria inquires.
“I-it was so quick and I couldn’t get a glimpse of their faces. They mostly wore black clothing. And th-they said…”
“Said what?” Jesse prompts.
“They said, ‘this one looks like she’ll be pretty delicious,’ before I could escape.”
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You wake up to a throbbing headache and severe nausea. Your right hand flies up to your temple while the other shields your eyes from a blurry, yellow light being cast from somewhere above you. The first thing you see once your vision clears up a little is rusted, silver fencing that served as a cage. As you peer at your surroundings, you hear the repetitive sound of a blade hitting timber.
Sitting up, you see two men facing away from you and leaning over a wide, wooden table. One had a large sack flung over his shoulder that slowly dripped blood, while the other was wielding a butcher’s knife, chopping some kind of meat that your view was obscured from. It was only when the man slides it off the table with his blade that you realize what it was as you take in a sharply drawn breath: a human arm.
Your silent gasp catches the attention of the man with the sack, who nudged his companion. They both turn to look at you, the knife holder smirking as he did so. He places it down on the table to bring his full attention to you.
“Get Ian,” He tells the other man. “Tell him the girl’s finally awake.”
His friend nods before dropping the bag and walking out of the room which, as you inspect further, looked almost like a slaughterhouse. Your eyes flit back and forth between the man staring at you and the cage imprisoning you. You try to search for flaws in the fencing for a chance to escape, but you find none. The man continues to eye you, almost with an air of cruel arrogance.
A few moments pass before he’s joined by a different man with brown hair and a lightly-shaved beard. He joins his friend leaning on the wooden table and addresses you directly.
“Good morning,” He states civilly. “How are you feeling?”
You don’t respond, intent on keeping your interactions with these strangers as minimal as possible. The man continues to speak anyway.
“I apologize for the way my associates treated you. I’m sure they didn’t mean to knock you out that hard. You were unconscious for much longer than needed.”
He approaches your cage to crouch at your eye level and you instinctively back away until your back hits the wall behind you.
“My name is Ian, and this is my friend Jacob. Can you tell me what your name is?”
You make a show of tightening your lips in defiance.
“That’s alright, I get it. We’re strangers, after all.” He says, holding his hands up in acknowledgement. “We’re gonna get to know each other pretty well, I’m sure.”
Your eyebrows furrow, wondering his meaning but still too scared to open your mouth.
The man who had gone to fetch Ian returns with a wooden tray of food and a small cup in his hands which he slides underneath a small gap underneath the makeshift cage’s door. You eye it suspiciously. Your brain and your stomach are at war with each other, one begging for sustenance while the other berates it for its naivete.
“You better eat up,” The man named Ian says. “Gonna need your strength. Looks like you haven’t been eating much. And I know you’re hungry; been out for quite some time.”
You ignore his comment about the clear loss of weight you’ve gone through recently, knowing your face was slightly more gaunt than it ought to have been from eating a lot less for the past month.
“What is it?” You question despite yourself, eyes shooting towards the tray at your feet.
“It’s deer.” He responds simply.
Your eyes dart towards the human body parts that lay on the floor. Ian smiles and understands what you’re thinking without turning to see where your gaze is directed.
“Just deer meat. I promise.”
You go back to eyeing the food they’d given you, every ounce of your willpower being tested. To give in and eat the food they’d provided would be playing into their game, but you had no idea how long you’d been asleep and you were ravenous.
The man Ian had introduced as Jacob speaks up.
“I think we should just get rid of her; she seems stubborn.”
“Most of them are,” Ian responds. “We’ll break her. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
You glower at him in response. He chuckles.
“We’ll give you some time,” He continues, standing up from his hunched position. “It’s ultimately up to you to decide your fate. Hope you like solitude.”
Ian looks at his companions and beckons them to leave. Jacob follows and the unnamed man picks up the sack he’d dropped previously, places the human remains on the floor inside of it, and follows the two others out before locking the door behind him.
You release a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding this whole time. It takes a few minutes, but you’re able to pull yourself up from the floor to further examine your surroundings. Even after closer investigation, the silver fencing seemed impenetrable and solid. The wooden tray they’d served the deer meat on was flimsy and thin, impossible to use as either a weapon or a means of escape. The cup was small and plastic, completely useless for anything else other than its intended purpose.
As options for liberation grew slimmer and slimmer, you begin to hyperventilate. You had a feeling that these men intended to leave you in here alone to go completely mad, at least until they decide to execute the next stage in their malevolent plan. You had no weapons, no means of escape, no company.
Your mind finally falls on your patrol partner, Antoine. Why wasn’t he in here? Did he get away? The trio made no mention of him. He would have been in here if he was captured as well.
Or did they “take care” of him first? You begin to feel even more nauseous when you remember what the man Jacob had been doing prior to your waking. Was Antoine not spared? You had no idea how long you were out for. Ian had only said that you were out for a while. Regardless of your loathing for Antoine and his stupidity, you prayed to every known entity out there that he’d made it back to Jackson.
Your heart sank even further down your stomach upon coming to another realization: was anyone looking for you? Surely after all this time, they’d realized you hadn’t been back from your patrol. They’d sent out search parties when people had gone missing, but how determined would they be to find you? Would they not just assume you were dead or, even worse, bitten? Who would be risking their safety outside the walls of Jackson for the shadow of a person that barely a soul in the town noticed anymore?
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Ellie had not slept for more than twenty minutes in the past 72 hours. Despite Maria’s protests, she’d joined the search party that had been scouring the outskirts of Jackson for you. Maria eventually relented on letting her go when Joel had volunteered to join the mass of citizens tracking you down, promising her that he’d be by her side. Jesse and Dina had both stepped forward to take part as well, but Maria put her foot down and pointed out that she still needed competent protectors to continue keeping Jackson safe.
Antoine was dragged into joining the search party on the first day to retrace the steps you and he had taken during your patrol. He abashedly walked Ellie and Joel through the house you’d been kidnapped in, leading them into the bedroom where you’d been knocked unconscious. After squeezing every bit of information out of him, Joel crisply ordered Antoine to go back outside and wait with the horses while he and Ellie scoured the place.
Within moments of their search, Ellie spots a glint of metal on the rug. She crouches down to further inspect what had caught her eye to find a sharp, golden point aiming upward. She turns it over to see it was the half-moon pin she’d given you over a year ago. It was missing the backing, which she knew meant it was accidentally torn off your backpack that she knew you’d pinned it on.
Slowly standing up, Ellie didn’t realize that she’d begun to sob. Joel turns to her and before he’s able to inquire anything of her, she holds out the hand carrying the pin. He picks it up and examines it, immediately recalling the day when he and Ellie had found it during patrol. He remembered how gleeful she was upon its discovery, how he’d rolled his eyes and chuckled over how absolutely lovestruck she was over you. He pulls her into a tight hug as she continues to cry uncontrollably.
“We’ll find her, kiddo. You and me, we crossed the entire country together and survived. We’ll find her together, I promise.”
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It could have been days, weeks that had passed since you were abducted. Time had no meaning in your small prison, nothing but the sun shining through a small window to indicate what vague hour of the day it possibly was. Your only source of human interaction was when someone would bring you a tray of food twice in, what you’d assume, a day. You’d eventually caved into your hunger, realizing that you had no other choice other than resorting to the same barbaric sin these people had grown so comfortable in doing. Your only comfort was knowing that they had only been feeding you deer meat, the flavour remaining unchanged and the taste never being unfamiliar.
It was a different person delivering the food and water every time, leading you to believe that this was a larger group of people than just the three men you’d met on your first day. At first, you attempted to keep count of how many came in, but your solitary confinement was quickly driving you to delusion and you began to doubt your memory.
The only thing that was keeping you mildly sane was singing to yourself throughout the day. The act that had once brought you solace during your time in the greenhouses was the one thing that was keeping you grounded as you felt yourself slowly withering away.
🎶 Tonight, you’re mine completely // You give your love so sweetly
Tonight, the light of love is in your eyes // But will you still love me tomorrow? 🎶
Memories of Ellie come flooding to you like an avalanche: the way she’d wrap her arms around you while you were quietly humming songs from the old world to yourself as you washed dishes, the way she’d urge you to keep singing as she tried to twirl you around in your living room, how she used to love laying on your chest and listening to your crooning as you’d stroke her hair when you’d both be lounging on a day off.
🎶 Is this a lasting treasure // Or just a moment’s pleasure?
Can I believe the magic of your sighs? // Will you still love me tomorrow? 🎶
You and Ellie both bonding over your love of music was one of the first steps towards falling in love with one another. You’d always been drawn to her, since the moment your eyes met. But as you both learned more about each other, that attraction grew into the feeling of needing her for the rest of your life.
🎶 Tonight with words unspoken // You say that I’m the only one
But will my heart be broken // When the night meets the morning sun? 🎶
You wonder if you’d be where you were in the first place if you and Ellie hadn’t broken up in the first place. You would have kept your patrol duties, and maybe you wouldn’t have gotten paired up with Antoine. Maybe your desolation and disconnect from life turned you careless. You’d been in mortal peril several times in the past. But not like this.
🎶 I’d like to know that your love // Is a love I can be sure of
So tell me now and I won’t ask again // Will you still love me tomorrow?
Will you still love me tomorrow? 🎶
You needed Ellie.
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It had been over four days since your sudden kidnapping, and Ellie was growing more and more desperate. There had been little traces of where you’d been taken and even less proof of whether you were still alive. Ellie felt every part of her dying every second you hadn’t been found, and the only thing that kept her going was her unyielding determination to have you safe and sound back home.
It was evening when Ellie and Joel had regrouped with the rest of the search party at a watch tower that usually served as a patrol checkpoint. She and Joel had safely tied the reins of their horses next to the others before heading to the second floor of the watchtower. Ellie had been adamant to continue searching through the night, and it took everything within Joel not to drag her by her toes to get some rest and convene with the others.
Joel was reprimanding her calmly for making them late meeting up with the rest of the search party as they walked into the room full of other Jackson citizens who were all conversing erratically. When they’d set eyes on the pair, a hush fell over the group. Ellie and Joel begin scanning their faces before a woman in the middle speaks up.
“We think we might know where they are, Joel.” She announces softly.
Ellie’s exhausted demeanour immediately shifts to alertness.
“Where? How do you know? Are you sure?” She demands agitatedly.
Joel holds a hand up to Ellie before saying, “What did you find?”
“Audrey and Lyn spotted some raiders about six miles northeast. Or at least, they thought they were raiders. They overheard their conversation and…” She looks over at a pair of women sitting on a couch to the side.
“They’re from a settlement not too far from where we spotted them.” The woman named Lyn speaks. “I’m not sure how we never discovered it, but there’s a rather large group that’s dwelling in that area. Not nearly as big as Jackson, but a good amount,”
“They armed?” Joel questions.
“Yeah. We need to be careful approaching them. It doesn’t to be as safely guarded as Jackson, but the sentries still look vicious.”
“Do we need backup?”
“I think as long as we’re smart and stealthy, our group will be good enough to infiltrate their village.”
“How do we know for sure that she’s in there?”
Lyn exchanges a look with the woman Audrey next to her.
“They were talking about some fresh meat that they’d acquired just a few days ago, a girl. They—”
Lyn falters, unable to finish her sentence. Audrey glances at her before looking at both Joel and Ellie with wary eyes.
“Th-they’re cannibals, Joel.”
All the colour drains from Ellie’s face as she’s flung into memories from a decade ago of being trapped in a cage by a man named David.
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🎶 They say everything can be replaced // They say every distance is not near 🎶
You were laying on your back, facing up at the bleak and boring ceiling that you’d grown to memorize.
🎶 So I remember every face // Of every man who put me here 🎶
Your eyes were glazed over, autonomously singing lyrics to a song that you knew by heart.
🎶 I see my light come shining // From the west down to the east 🎶
You try desperately to cling to the memory of Ellie’s face, terrified to lose all the small details that you felt slowly slipping away as you descend more and more into sequestered delusion.
🎶 Any day now, any day now // I shall be released 🎶
“Is that what you think, sweetheart?” A voice interrupts your musical reverie.
You turn slowly towards the speaker who was crouching outside your cage, your head the only thing that moves as the rest of your body is too weak to physically respond.
“You have a beautiful voice. I’ve been growing fond of hearing it these past few days. Big fan of the oldies, huh?”
You continue to stare at Ian, your face expressionless.
“That’s something we’ve got in common, you and I. I’m quite partial to Otis Redding myself.”
You struggle to keep down the bile building up in your throat at hearing this repulsive man expressing love for something.
“It’s almost endearing how you still hold out hope for escaping.”
“It’s just a song.” You finally speak, deadpan.
“True.” Ian responds, his face perking up at your engagement. “You still do have a chance to be released, you know. Just gotta prove that you’ll be a valuable asset to us. Be a team player.”
“You mean consent to eating people.”
“We’re survivalists, princess. In this world, being picky is not a luxury.”
“I’d rather retain the little humanity I have left, thanks.” You retort before turning your head back to stare at the ceiling once more.
“Surviving and persevering is inherently human. We kill to survive. We take care of our own, by any means necessary.”
“So now what?” You ask. “You’re gonna chop me up into tiny pieces and serve me to your cult?”
“Hey, now. ‘Cult’ is a bit too strong of a word, muffin.” He says, defensively. “Like I said, we’re survivalists. But I’d rather not have to—how’d you say it? ‘Chop you up into tiny pieces’?”
You merely scoff in response.
“Please tell me your name.”
“No.”
“You know mine.”
“Indeed I do.”
“I’ve been quite honest with you. It’s just the polite thing to do, you know.”
“You know what’s polite?” You turn your head back towards him. “Not keeping someone in a fucking cage.”
“Just a precaution. Gotta figure out if you can be one of us.”
“In your motherfucking dreams, asshole.” You spit.
Ian sighs before standing up straight once more. He looks at you despondently.
“It’d be a shame to lose you, sweetheart. You have heart. You’re special. Having you for dinner would feel like such a waste of the little beauty left in this world.”
“I’m not your fucking sweetheart.” You seethe.
“That’s too bad.” Ian tsks. “Keep singing those songs for me, sweetheart. While you still can.”
He exits the room, and you hear the sound of multiple locks clicking as you had every time you were left alone once more.
A sinking feeling in your stomach tells you that you may not be trapped in this cage for much longer.
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Ellie’s ocean-green eyes scan their surroundings, observing the guards that patrolled the edge of the village. There were at least a dozen of them and they appeared to be heavily armed as Lyn had promised. Some were keeping vigilant watch, but most were carelessly chatting with one another.
The whole party from Jackson remained perfectly concealed in the shadows of the forest right next to the village. They’d chosen to arrive at dusk at the exact time that the sun had just set, perfect to remain eclipsed in the shade but having enough light to navigate the unfamiliar town.
Joel lifts his head slightly from the bush he and Ellie were hidden behind, meeting the eyes of the others as he gave a signal. They all nodded in quiet response as they readied their weapons, some holding pistols equipped with makeshift silencers and Ellie with her faithful bow and arrow. One by one, they take out each of the guards. They fall quickly to the ground, none having enough time to react or sound any alarm of an attack. The second the last one collapses, Joel holds up a hand as he silently counts down before signalling the rest to quickly approach.
Ellie is the quickest to reach the border of the town, having set aside her bow and equipping her semi-auto pistol. Remembering information Lyn and Audrey had provided from their overheard conversation, she swiftly weaves through the village as her eyes scoured for a brick house with a metal entryway. Most of the buildings seemed to be partially constructed with a wooden exterior, but if their intel was correct, you were being kept in some kind of slaughterhouse.
As she’s made it halfway through the town, Ellie catches the eye of another companion who gestures to a brown cinder block building being guarded by two citizens holding hunting rifles. She scans the scene before aiming her gun towards them, her precise shots quieted by a silencer. Both guards topple over almost immediately, giving Ellie the opportunity to sprint towards the entrance. She’s joined by a boy named Levi to see the door to the slaughterhouse sealed off by a heavy padlock. She signals Levi to draw back before aiming her pistol and shattering the lock.
Ellie tears it off the handles before wrenching the doors open. She actively ignores the heavy machinery and smell of rotting meat and spots a door that appeared to lead down to a lower floor. That too was padlocked and she immediately attended to it the same way she’d done with the first. Levi remains behind to keep watch as Ellie quietly descends down the stairs to the basement.
She ignores all the doorways leading to other rooms when she spots a heavy-looking metal door with multiple locks. As she approaches it, she hears a muffled melody from behind it.
Is that…singing?
🎶 Now you say you’re lonely // You cry the whole night through
Well, you can cry me a river, cry me a river // I cried a river over you 🎶
Ellie recognizes the same voice she had fallen in love with all those years ago as yours, her heart filling with affection and her spirits being lifted for the first time in days.
🎶 Now you say you’re sorry // For being so untrue
Well, you can cry me a river, cry me a river // I cried a river over you 🎶
As she examines the steel entryway for an opening, she’s flooded with memories of secretly listening to your innocent singing when you had thought you were alone.
🎶 You drove me, nearly drove me out of my head // While you never shed a tear
Remember, I remember all that you said // Told me that love was too plebeian
Told me you were through with me 🎶
Ellie unbolts several latches and uses her pistol to shoot off yet another heavy-duty lock that separated her from you.
🎶 And now you say you love me // Well, just to prove you do
Come on and cry me a river, cry me a river // I cried a river over you 🎶
She violently wrenches the weighty door open, realizing now more than ever how much she needs you.
🎶 I cried a river over you
I cried a river over you
I cried a river over you 🎶
The song fades to an end as her eyes fall onto a figure trapped within silver fencing, laying flat on its back with its hands folded on its stomach.
“B-baby?” Ellie whispers, eyes filling with tears.
Your own eyes remain closed as you ignore the quiet voice you assumed was Ian, returning once more to torment you and perhaps even drag you to your death.
Ellie approaches your cage, her gaze falling on your frame for the first time in what felt like an eternity. She notices how much scraggier you appeared, clearly being fed very little during your confinement.
She clears her throat softly as she crouches down to your level, hand falling on the fencing that felt reminiscent of the prison she was once held in all those years ago.
“Baby.” She repeats once more, her voice clearer and fuller.
“Go to hell, Ian.” You finally vocalize, eyes still remaining closed and ignoring how the voice seemed different from that of Ian’s. You conclude that you’ve finally reached the point of delusion where any voice you hear mimics that of your ex-girlfriend.
“No, it’s-it’s me.” Ellie whispers.
You finally open your eyes and turn towards the source of introduction. Your eyebrows lift slightly as you take in the features of the girl you were still madly in love with, despite everything. You look her up and down for a few moments before returning to your original position.
“This is a rather cruel joke. I preferred it when my hallucinations left me alone, thank you.”
“This isn’t a hallucination,” Ellie utters as she feels her heart crack. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.”
You turn back towards her and finally sit up, further examining your new companion. You scrutinize her further, still fully of the belief that your delusion had finally taken hold of you. You approach the border of your cage slowly before speaking.
“Are you real?” You ask.
Finally within your reach, Ellie holds a hand out as far as she’s able to stroke your cheek.
“I’m real, pretty girl. I promise.”
The moment her skin touches yours, your body is filled with a sense of vigour and life that it hadn’t felt in weeks.
“E-Ellie?” You say meekly.
“I’m here,” She repeats. “I’m here. I’m getting you out right now.”
“No, you’re not. Hands up.”
Your body freezes at the sound of the voice you’d grown to be familiar with the past few days.
“Drop the gun. Now.”
Ellie immediately lets go of her pistol and rigidly straightens up from her crouched position. She turns slowly towards Ian who has a revolver pointed, not at her, but at you.
“So, my new pet has a little friend? Sweetheart, you never told me about her.”
“Don’t fucking call her that.” Ellie spits.
“I can call her whatever I want. I’m not the one with a gun to their head.”
Ellie eyes his revolver and slowly inches to shield you from his aim.
“Don’t you fucking move!” Ian hisses. “I can shoot you, then shoot her.”
“E-Ellie, please just,” You stutter. “Move out of the way.”
“No,” Ellie mutters through gritted teeth, standing her ground. “I’m not fucking moving.”
“You’ve got until the count of three.” He orders her.
You grip the back of Ellie’s shirt through the fence, silently urging her to move. She refuses to yield.
“One,” Ian begins. “Two—”
His countdown is interrupted by the butt of a gun colliding with the back of his head. Joel emerges from behind him holding up a hunting rifle.
You let out a choked-out sob, your grip on Ellie’s shirt loosening. Hot tears were falling down your cheeks that you didn’t notice until Ellie turned towards you to check on your state, wiping them away.
“Are you okay?” She asks fervently.
“I-I…” You stammer.
“We need to go now.” Joel interrupts. “We may have taken out a few guards, but we don’t know how many more they have stationed out there.”
Joel searches Ian’s unconscious body, finding a set of keys in his front pocket. After some trial and error, he and Ellie are able to find the key that unlocked your cage.
Ellie pulls you into a tight embrace, repeatedly whispering “thank god, thank god,” into your hair. You pull away, feeling slightly suffocated and having no desire to remain within this room that served as your prison for what felt like years.
Ellie picks up the pistol she had dropped before she begins to walk you towards the exit. But before you reach it, Ian begins to stir from beneath you. Both Joel and Ellie point their respective guns at him.
“Wait.” You say, holding a hand up.
“Baby, but—“ Ellie begins but stops when she sees you reaching towards the butcher’s knife that had been stabbed into the chopping table, the same one that had served as your only view during your confinement.
Ellie releases your waist just as you lift the cleaver above your head.
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The moment you step out of the slaughterhouse, you nearly collapse. It was almost as if the air outside your prison was twice as thick than within, and your lungs were still incapable of not choking from it.
Ellie, sensing you about to drop, quickly wraps her arms around your waist as your legs crumple beneath you. She scoops you up from your knees and carries you down the road, Joel following quickly behind. As you spot the borders of the town where familiar faces from Jackson begin convening around you, you black out in a flash.
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You wake up to the familiar scent of cedarwood and sage. Your body feels weighed down onto what felt like a bed, unable to move your limbs with ease. Every part of you still wished to remain asleep, but something else seemed to be pulling you out of your comatose state. Your eyes are the first to move, fluttering open slowly and agonizingly before they survey the position you’d been unconsciously placed in.
Light peeks through sheer blue curtains that decorated Ellie’s garage window to your right. You shift your head slightly to gaze through the panes, regarding how there was barely any snow on the ground. Your eyebrows knit in bewilderment, wondering how long you’d been out for that the snow had finally melted.
“It rained yesterday while you were sleeping.”
You slowly turn towards the sound of the gentle, calming voice and meet the ocean-green eyes that had been staring at you since the moment you’d woken.
“What?” You whisper, voice croaking from lack of use.
“That’s why there’s no snow anymore. Rain melted it away last night.”
Ellie was sitting at the foot of the bed, a graphic novel right next to her that now lay forgotten.
You stare at her in befuddlement, perplexed at how she’d read your mind so quickly and easily just from a look.
“Oh,” You say. “How long was I out for?”
“About a day or so.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing?” Ellie says, moving from her spot to settle next to you. She places a gentle hand on top of yours.
“I-I don’t know.” You reply, cringing instinctively at her touch.
She pulls away immediately.
“S-sorry…”
“It’s okay.” You utter, heart rising to your cheeks. “Is everyone alright?”
“Everyone’s fine, I promise. We were able to get in and out quick with no casualties on our side.”
“No one was hurt?”
“That kid Levi is probably a little traumatized after entering that slaughterhouse, but he’ll probably stop vomiting anytime soon.” Ellie attempts a joke, smiling slightly.
You don’t return her smile, looking down at your hands in guilt. The memories of being trapped in that isolated hell were still so raw and you were trying not to throw up from the thought of it yourself.
“I can’t believe I was so stupid to get caught like that. I put so many people in fucking danger just because I let my guard down. I fucking—”
“No, don’t do that.” Ellie interrupts. Her hand twitches, as if she wanted to touch you again but stopped herself. “That fucking coward Antoine should have never left you alone.”
“It’s not his fault… He was just scared. It’d have probably been worse if he got caught along with me.”
“If you just had a competent partner out there with you… It should have been me in the first place like it always was before.” Ellie curses.
“It’s fine…” You mutter.
“It’s not fucking fine!” Ellie exclaims, throwing her hands up and getting up in frustration. You watch as she paces by the bed. “I-I could have lost you, baby.”
“Why does that matter?” You whisper.
“B-because…” Ellie stutters, not making eye contact with you. “Because I love you.”
You stare at her vacantly. Those had been the words you’d been wanting to hear again from her for the past month. But you couldn’t bring yourself to believe her.
“You didn’t before.” You say blankly. “What you did, someone who loved me wouldn’t do that. You left me. You fucking left me.”
Ellie kneels next to you and dares put her hands on top of yours once more.
“I never stopped loving you, baby. The past few weeks… it was fucking hell on earth. It took fucking everything in me not to crawl back on my knees to you and beg for your forgiveness.”
“But you didn’t,” You argue. “You threw me out, Ellie. You told me to stop calling you ‘baby.’ The past month… it was slowly killing me, and you didn’t give a damn. You didn’t fucking care. You went about your life like you didn’t tear my heart out of my chest. I haven’t seen you once since that night, and suddenly you’re here telling me you still love me.”
“Cause it hurt me every time I saw you.” Ellie says, voice cracking and eyes watering. “Every time I saw you when I passed by the greenhouses or when I would see you walking home… it fucking hurt.”
“Didn’t fucking seem like it. ”
“I-I thought… I thought being apart was what was best for us. I loved you so much and I didn’t want my past to get in the way, I thought that maybe I could make you see that I’m faithful to you and only you. It was so fucking stupid, I was so fucking stupid.”
Tears were streaming down Ellie’s face nonstop now, staining the bedsheets.
“Everything that happened to you the past few days, it was my fault. You’d never have been there if I didn’t push you away. I can only imagine the kind of torture you went through, being in there. I was so fucking terrified, the most I’d ever been in my whole life. All because I was too fucking proud, too fucking blind.”
Your breath hitches, remembering the time Ellie’d confided in you one sleepless night about what happened to her a decade ago when she was kidnapped by a man named David.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” Ellie continues. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I don’t love anybody else. You don’t know how much I need you, how much I’ll always need you. I was so fucking stupid, I’m so sorry.”
You pull one of your hands away from hers to caress her face, the corners of your lips turning up slightly.
“Yeah. Yeah, you are kind of stupid.”
Ellie’s eyes widen in surprise and her face breaks out into a teary smile.
“It took me getting kidnapped and eaten by a group of cannibals for you to apologize?” You say, joking for the first time in a month. Ellie laughs awkwardly.
“I’ll never leave you again. I swear.”
“No, you don’t have to swear, Ellie. It’s—“
She shakes her head.
“I know I have to gain your trust back. I can’t imagine the hell you went through the past few days, and the most important thing for me right now is to make sure you’re okay. And to make sure you know that I’ll be here with you. Forever, until you don’t want me anymore.”
“I’ll always want you, Ellie.” You smile, your thumb wiping her tears away. She leans into your hand as she gazes lovingly back at you.
“C-can I kiss you?” She asks softly. You freeze for a moment.
“I-I’m still… I mean, the past few days are still—” You begin to stutter.
“It’s okay, baby.” She whispers. “Please don’t rush yourself, take your time.”
She settles for taking your hand on her face between both of hers and giving it the lightest of kisses. You smile before she speaks again.
“I’ll wait forever.”
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author’s notes:
absolutely insane how long this one-shot turned out to be. it was supposed to be much, much shorter but oops. thank you for being patient with me.
reader’s moon pin is in third quarter (or just a half moon) because third quarter moon is supposed to represent forgiveness and revisiting past actions and etc. thought it was fitting :)
the part where reader wakes up in the cage is supposed to mirror when ellie was captured by david in the first game, so if it sounds familiar, that's why
the cult leader's name is ian simply because i have an ex-boyfriend whose name is ian and i hate his guts, it was fun to name a bad guy after him
love you all, promise i’ll work on ncty soon. just dealing with a lot of shit in my personal life rn (yes a lot of it is shit with my ex shut up), so just keep being patient with me if y’all can ♡︎
taglist: @spaceshipellie, @ximtiredx, @jajsnjz, @sawaagyapong, @beforeimdeceased, @carmellie, @thatgiraffefromtlou, @elliesplaylist, @p1llowthoughtss, @lonelyfooryouonly, @machetegirl109, @herdelreydear, @elliesnumber1gf, @ellies-tatoo, @eleactric
669 notes · View notes
amateurmasksmith · 3 months
Text
You Didn’t Know (Reprise)
(don’t mind me, just got inspired by a shitpost by @onesidedradiostatic (and their Anon) and turned it into angst…)
(also, it looks like @convolutedblasphemy beat me to it - well done btw - but I still wanted to give it a stab!)
Vox (yoinking the proof away): “Gimme that, Alastor, It’s not meant to be seen by you. Let’s move on, everyone, Figure out the best move that should, Improve our chances against the Angels’ threat!”
Alastor teleports behind him and counter-yoinks.
Alastor: “You want me to ignore that? No, not yet.”
Alastor examines the figurine closer, with a morbid fascination.
Lucifer, to Alastor: “It’s not as simple as you think, Not everything’s been spelled in ink.”
Vox lunges at Al angrily, flailing his arms as Alastor easily sidesteps him. Val catches him before he can fall.
Vox: “Leave it, Alastor!”
Valentino: “Careful, Voxy, keep a cool head.”
Vox pushes away from Val, gesturing towards Alastor.
Vox: “No! You never cared, did you?! You left, and it was like you were dead, Al/ /astor! We could’ve just gone our separate ways, but You left me here, with this internal blaze!”
Alastor: “I’m sure you wish it had been so, but there’s a lot that you don’t know!”
Vox: “You left before we could talk it out! Find a way we could still be friendly! But you blew your shot when you dropped off the block, Yeah, I’m so ‘sorry’ for being so petty!”
Alastor pulls Vox into a dance as they sing past each other.
Alastor/Vox: “No more questions to be posed,” / “There’s one question to be posed,” ”I hate you now, case closed” / “Though you are predisposed” “I try to forget that we were forever!” / “Why is this thing worth losing your temper?”
Vox breaks off and walks away, putting distance between them…
Vox: “I made the mistake once, Now I won’t be a chump! Decades of isolation await you,”
Velvette, concerned where this is going: “Vox?”
Vox: “No-one else will think to even date you!”
Alastor: “Wait-”
Vox turns around, realizing what he said.
Vox, who didn’t mean to spill: “Shit.”
Alastor (Aro 404): “What are you saying? Let me get this straight, When you begged me then, Down on your knees…?”
Valentino: “He didn’t know?!”
Velvette: “Whoops! Guess the cat’s out of the bag!
Alastor (through gritted teeth): “Oh, what a reveal!”
Vox: “Wait a sec here, Al, you didn’t know?”
Alastor begins slowly pacing towards Vox.
Alastor: “I thought you were bolder, as our friendship grew older!”
Vox, pained: “No!”
Alastor’s demon form begins to show as he slowly corners Vox.
Alastor: “You have to listen, My life here has just one mission, So it’s lucky I saved you, The anguish it takes to… Do what was required!”
Vox: “To think that I admired you, Al!”
Alastor breaks off, dismissing him with a wave of his hand, and starts walking away.
Alastor: “I don’t need your condescension, It’s not my fault you weren’t direct!”
Vox: “Was our relationship just manipulation? Oh, I was naive to expect you, to care beyond favors you’re repaying!”
Alastor: “Vox, what on earth are you saying? Love is not forever, your programs here are all lies, I’d have thought that seven years would give you enough time! Now I’ll leave you all to handle your foolish little scandal,”
Al gestures to the group, and casually drops the figurine in Lucifer’s hands as he brushes past.
Alastor, to Lucifer: “I’d recommend you stick to sculpting Anatidae.”
Alastor is engulfed by his shadow, and melts into a nearby radio. He emerges at Rosie’s place, ears drooping. The music takes on a softer style.
Alastor: “Rosie, dear, I have a problem.”
Rosie: “For you, Al, I’m all ears! Sit down here!”
Rosie gestures to her couch, on which she sits, and Alastor crumples.
Alastor: “Ugh! Apparently, my old pal Vox, Bought a commission, born from horrid thoughts… I gave him a piece of my mind, he Said ‘we were forever,’ and yet somehow I never…”
Rosie: “Oh. Yes, I see…”
Rosie brings Alastor in for a hug.
Alastor: “Why the fuck / Was I the last to know my old friend had a crush?”
As the music fades out, we see Alastor’s face buried in Rosie’s shoulder, partly obscured… Without a smile.
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anto-pops · 1 year
Text
Lost and Found - Sebastian Sallow x Female! Reader
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Summary: You’d both fucked up, and you both knew it.  But Sebastian was starting to lose himself, and you couldn’t stop sobbing. The air was too thick for words, the pain and the anger and the fear combusting into a shrieking tempest. It was too much to bear in the cavernous room, and you both cracked.  Two years of your steady cadence shuddered and fell like leaves when Sebastian found his voice first.  “I’m fucking done.”
Alternatively summarized as Sebastian dealing with the aftermath of your break-up and working through his feelings.
Word Count: 4.5k
Warnings: Mild injuries, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending
Full fic can be found here on Ao3 
Mostly Sebastian’s POV following the argument because I wanted to put him through it 
Maybe you were naive for believing your last year at Hogwarts would be easy, but after Ranrok, Rookwood, the Keepers, and the whole debacle with Sebastian in the catacombs, you were desperate for a sense of normalcy. You had deluded yourself into thinking that things could only get better from then on, and for the most part, they had. 
There was something about this semester, though. Something in the air, or in the water. Something in your clothes and in your bed and in your chest that just kept digging deeper and sharper, leaving you uneasy and on edge. 
You and Sebastian had been tense with each other, even though you didn’t mean to be. Neither one of you meant to be assigning blame so harshly, or to be getting so worked up over nothing at all, ending up angry more often than not. Growing up had proven to be fucking scary, though, and the learning curve could be enough to knock most people on their asses and keep them there for a good, long while. You and Sebastian had juggled these fears and told one another about them after you’d both already blown up, and you had apologized quietly for snapping so hard over dumb shit like spilled vials of Wiggenweld, and sometimes it was enough. 
Sometimes, it wasn’t. 
It wasn’t enough when you threw your hands up one night to scold Sebastian too loudly for staying up late, cutting one too many corners, and getting busted in the restricted section. The weeks worth of detentions had only served to set back his schedule, but it was his own damn fault, so why was he complaining in the first place? You clenched your fists and your voice was shaking when, halfway through wondering aloud when Sebastian was going to learn to be fucking responsible, you realized you didn’t mean that, and that it was kind of a fucked up thing to say.
You might have tried to backpedal– to apologize– but Sebastian was tense. He was scared. He had fucked up his end of term project for Potions, and he was positive he’d basically failed an exam in History of Magic earlier today because of how scatterbrained he had been. He had yet to narrow down a potential career path for after school ended, which his professors never let him forget, much to his annoyance. So as you drew in a breath to stutter out an apology, Sebastian was too afraid of hearing more about what a fuckup he was to let you start. 
Blindly, he picked up the closest thing to him on the desk situated between you both, and shot out of his seat to throw it at the wall. It turned out to be an ink container, the black, murky liquid spilling down the walls of the Room of Requirement, and the sound of the shattered pieces of the bottle cascading to the floor was muted by the volume of Sebastian’s cruel words.
When Sebastian was finally out of breath from screaming and your tears were streaming down your cheeks in earnest– the salt trails equal parts rage, disbelief, and guilt– the two of you stared at one another for a long, heavy moment. 
You’d both fucked up, and you both knew it. 
But Sebastian was starting to lose himself, and you couldn’t stop sobbing. The air was too thick for words, the pain and the anger and the fear combusting into a shrieking tempest. It was too much to bear in the cavernous room, and you both cracked. 
Two years of your steady cadence shuddered and fell like leaves when Sebastian found his voice first. 
“I’m fucking done.” 
It had been three days of Sebastian actually staying in his dorm. He hadn’t been sleeping at all, but he was there during the night, and Ominis had been forced to listen to his friend toss and turn fitfully since he’d ended things with you so terribly. 
Sebastian could still hear the echoing slam of the massive oak doors of the Room of Requirement. He could still hear the way you’d choked on your words, and when he closed his eyes in his vain attempts to quiet his mind, all he saw was you. Your hands curled into fists, teeth savaging your bottom lip, tears coursing down your face and dripping from your chin as you’d squeezed your bloodshot eyes closed and started erasing him from your mind. 
At least, Sebastian imagined you had. 
Given his shitty academic performance in recent weeks, Sebastian couldn’t afford to skip classes in order to avoid you, but it turned out that he didn’t have to. You hadn’t shown up once to any of your classes– even the ones you didn’t share with him. It hammered home the finality of what had transpired three nights ago, and if he drank a little too much stolen Firewhiskey to cope with the sinking feeling in his chest, Ominis elected not to say anything about it. 
“You’ve been under a lot of stress recently,” Ominis said later that night, squeezing Sebastian’s shoulder as he used the brunet as leverage to lower himself into the couch cushions. The common room was deserted, and Sebastian was grateful for the lack of prying eyes, curling his hand tighter around the neck of the bottle between his legs. “Both of you have. Sometimes, things just boil over.” 
Sebastian didn’t reply at first. He didn’t even know where to fucking start. Stress couldn’t begin to excuse the shit he’d said to you right before he left. In-between your gut-wrenching sobs, he was certain he had heard your heart crack in two at some point, and it was his own fault. Running his hands down his face, Sebastian heaved a trembling sigh, trying to sort out the crappy thoughts bouncing around his tipsy brain. 
“Was she in any of your classes with you today?” Sebastian asked, his gaze trained on the ceiling as he willed the watery tone in his voice away. He had cried enough over everything– his eyes and his throat fucking ached from it. 
Ominis sighed, reaching to the side table for his steaming cup of tea. He worked it into a safe grip before blowing softly, taking a tentative sip. “Not today, no. None of her roommates have seen her in her dorm either– I already asked.” 
Sebastian just wanted to know how you looked. Maybe it was awful of him to think as much, but he liked to imagine you were faring as bad as he was. You were an impossibly strong and powerful witch, willful and understanding, and you got mad so rarely that Sebastian couldn’t help but loathe the idea of you putting on a brave face and smiling until you were over him. 
What right did he have to be thinking such things, though? He was the one who had walked out. 
Ominis said nothing when he heard Sebastian lift the bottle to his lips again, taking a hearty swig that burned on the way down. Tears welled up in his swollen, brown eyes, and they slipped down his cheeks silently, a metaphorical rain cloud looming over his end of the couch. The two men didn’t say a word, but after a while, Ominis tugged Sebastian against his shoulder, letting the heartbroken man cry softly into his pajamas. 
“Bloody hell, mate,” Garreth muttered, leaning over his cauldron to get closer to Sebastian. “Two years, though?”
The classroom was quiet, save for the steady bubbling at everyone’s stations. They were supposed to be working on brewing an Edurus Potion, but Garreth seemed more interested in his friend’s failed love life after hearing through the grapevine what had happened. Sebastian didn’t answer, choosing to focus on adding in the Mongrel Fur to his silvery concoction. 
“Together that long and this close to graduation, I thought that was going to turn into fucking marriage, you know? Are you sure it’s–”
Garreth stopped talking when Sebastian slammed his hands down on his table, shattering a flask under the weight of his fist so suddenly, the redhead jumped back with his green eyes blown wide. Sebastian’s stare fell from Garreth to the blood pooling under his palm, biting his tongue through the stinging pain and unintentional tremors while Professor Sharp strode over to see what the commotion was about. 
Docked five house points and dismissed to the Hospital Wing, Sebastian shuffled up the winding staircases in a daze. His head hurt when he walked through the double doors to the infirmary, but he ignored the dull ache and got to dealing with his hand so he could leave faster and sleep through the impending migraine. Once all the glass had been picked out of Sebastian’s cuts and he’d been disinfected, bandaged, and fed a Wiggenweld potion for extra measure, he made his way back to the dorms. 
He dimly realized on the trek down that it wasn’t how long he had been together with you that was preventing him from getting over you. 
“You’ll be back on your feet in no time,” Leander said from two tables away, raising his Butterbeer towards Sebastian and Ominis. The two were tucked away in the far corner of The Three Broomsticks at Ominis’ insistence, in some feeble attempt to get Sebastian out of the permanent rut he had found himself in for five consecutive days now. The brooding Slytherin just picked at his bandages, gritting his teeth together and silently hoping that the dirty bar floor would open up and swallow him whole. 
There were too many students around for comfort, and a number of them glanced cautiously between Leander the Sebastian, checking to make sure that the Gryffindor wasn’t at risk of having his nose broken. He meant well– especially after 6 Butterbeers– but Prewett was famously not good with words, and Sebastian didn’t trust himself to speak anymore. 
Leander motioned to Sirona for another drink, and once she’d deposited it on the table with an amused shake of her head, he walked the pint over to the dreary corner. “On me. You don’t need her, mate. Chin up.” 
With a rough clap on Sebastian’s shoulder, he left just as suddenly as he’d appeared. Ominis listened warily for any signs of anger or sadness, but all he heard was the sound of liquid sloshing as Sebastian lifted the drink to his lips and chugged down two thirds of it. 
As he set the tankard down on the table, Sebastian looked up at the cobweb covered beams overhead, acknowledging that no, he didn’t need you. 
But that wasn’t what was keeping him so low, either. 
After a week without so much as a glimpse of you, Sebastian took to wandering. He was restless– constantly fidgeting– like he had a fire burning under his ass all hours of the day. His chest was perpetually heavy, as though there were a Graphorn sitting on him, and his hair was in a constant state of disarray from running his hands through it. 
Sebastian was a mess. He knew he was. 
Shit, there really weren’t any other excuses for standing in a fucking fountain in the middle of the night, staring daggers at a stone dragon because there was no one else around to focus his frustrations on. There were probably better places to be shifting through his jumbled thoughts than in the middle of the Transfiguration Courtyard, but at this point, he felt bad keeping Ominis awake all night with his inability to sit still and sleep. 
Either way, Sebastian halted his wading through the water to glare firmly at the statue again, doing his best to imagine a future without you in it. 
Thus far, you had been Sebastian’s first and only love– aside from dueling. You knew him inside and out. You could look at him from across a room and know instantly how close he was to punching someone, how tired he was, or whether or not he was actually listening to a conversation. You had a million different smiles for a million of Sebastian’s petty annoyances, and all of them struck hard and true and left him feeling at peace with the state of his life. 
He knew you just as well– it wasn’t like you were some all powerful Legilimen living in his head. You had your flaws, your insecurities, your anxieties. You made mistakes, and you had inhuman levels of empathy and understanding– which was probably how you had managed to deal with him after your tumultuous fifth-year. 
There was something viscerally calming about you, something that never failed to keep him in line when he was acting like a piece of shit, and that kept him steady when he was feeling anxious. It had been too much, though, and Sebastian knew you took on the burdens of others far too heavily without stopping to think of yourself. It weighed on you. 
You weren’t perfect, but neither was he. 
Leaning against the dragon, Sebastian closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, the water in the fountain lapping at his calves and trickling soothingly in a short arc from the dragon’s parted lips. 
Maybe Sebastian just couldn’t comprehend people as well as he thought he could. That was probably it. 
You were the brains, and he was the brawns. You were philosophical, seemingly making sense of everything that crossed your path, while Sebastian understood too little despite trying. Between the two of you, you managed to make just enough sense of the world to be comfortable. But now everything was over. 
Sebastian kicked at the water idly, dodging under the dragon’s stream to make another lap around the fountain. 
He liked dueling. He appreciated how simple it was– it was do or die, realistically speaking. Cast or get casted on. Win or lose. Whoever he would go up against would inevitably let their mask slip, cluing him in on their thinking, their pain, their weaknesses. It was logical for him, and most of the time, he found his opponents predictable. 
Sebastian never could have predicted that he would walk out on you, though, and he definitely wouldn’t have ever predicted that you would let him. 
It took him a few minutes to realize that he was standing under the dragon’s stream, and it was soaking through his hair and into his shirt. He sighed, slicking his bangs away from his face before letting the cold water rain down on his flushed face for a moment, and then he was stepping out of its way. 
There had to be a reason Sebastian was having so much trouble with this. 
Leander had been unwittingly correct; Sebastian definitely didn’t need you, as in, it wasn’t like he couldn’t breathe without you. He was his own person with his own strengths, and you were the same. It wasn’t even that he had put ‘too much time into it’, as Garreth had implied, because loving you had never felt time consuming. He couldn’t even begin to move on from this, and it was pissing him off, because he was really fucking tired of crying and of staring at walls, unfocused and feeling hollow. 
Sebastian was especially tired of his hands turning over all the time to find yours, because he knew you weren’t there anymore. Still, he couldn’t stop his fingers from spreading to make room between them for yours, and he couldn’t stop his eyes from scanning every room for you. He would never be able to stop his body from shifting to accommodate someone who would never occupy that space again. 
Sebastian fixed his stormy gaze on the dragon again, deep in thought about you. You, who always understood a little more than you probably should have, and who always knew how to read him like a damn book. You would lay beside him every night tangled together, tapping in time to the steady beat of his heart under your ear, quieting the restless drive that seemed to always exist within him.
He could move on from you. He could focus on his studies, the two of you would graduate, and eventually you would both find someone else. But ultimately, Sebastian seriously doubted he would ever feel the bone-deep comfort that stemmed from you again. It seemed highly unlikely that he would ever meet someone that made him feel the way you did. It was like… no matter how long the two of you sat and watched clouds, or meandered through the woods, it was never time wasted. It had always been okay to just exist for a while without doing something, or making something, or going somewhere. When he was with you, it had always felt okay for him to put his problems on the table and walk away from them for a while, instead of obsessively stabbing them and getting more and more frustrated. 
No matter where he went or how successful Sebastian could potentially be, he had a sneaking suspicion that his fingers would always spread just far enough for yours to slide between them. 
The sound of sloshing water filled the courtyard, and then Sebastian’s soaked shoes were slapping against the grass with each pounding step that led him full speed towards the Room of Requirement. The only thought in his mind as he skipped up the steps two at a time was that the peace that came over the both of you when you were together had to be worth fucking trying again. 
There was something to be said about how the normally concealed oak doors were already displayed, as though beckoning him to where he knew you had been hiding for days now. He eased his way inside without a second thought, noting the messy state of the desk in the corner and the stacks of books that had toppled over on themselves beside the entryway. The entire space looked lived in, and your unique scent hit him full force as he strode further into the room. 
When Sebastian reached the bottom of the tiny stairwell leading towards the larger living area, you were looking up from your seat in front of the fireplace that lit the otherwise dark chamber. The look on your sleepless face and the way your unruly hair curled wildly around your temples clued him in on the fact that he wasn’t the only one who had been feeling like utter shit this last week. Your lips parted around a silent gasp as Sebastian stumbled towards you, still panting from having sprinted to get there. 
“Hi,” he wheezed, leaning forward on his knees and forcing a deep breath into his lungs in a bid to prevent himself from passing out. 
“Sebastian?” Your voice was small and raspy– as though it hadn’t been used the entire time you’d been holed up here. “Why are you so wet–” 
“I love you,” he interrupted, his labored breathing filling the silence that followed the declaration. “I love you and I’m so fucking sorry that I’m such a prick and that I hurt you. I fucked up and I can’t take back anything that was said but I wanted you to know how sorry I am, and that I don’t want to be done, and if you aren’t tired of me yet I have a really stupid dueling metaphor for why we should stay together– mmph–” 
You had crossed the space between you both in a flash, reaching out preemptively until your trembling hands clasped Sebastian’s soaked tie to yank him towards you. 
“I missed you,” you whispered as you leaned your forehead against his, your breath warming his chilled lips– just a hair’s width away from kissing– but your hesitation burned like fire between the two of you. “Merlin, Sebastian, I’m so sorry–”
Sebastian reached up to tangle his fingers in your hair, and his damp skin caught on the tiny knots that were scattered throughout the normally tame strands. His sighs mixed with yours, the two of you murmuring tense little ‘I love you’s and ‘I missed you’s until the sounds mingled and settled in time. 
Looping an arm around your waist to guide you towards the modest bedroom the room had conjured up years ago, Sebastian maintained the tentative space between your lips, whispering your name as he led you through the hallway. Your fingers were already working open the buttons on his soaked shirt, trusting him completely to walk you safely backwards to your once shared bedroom. Sebastian slowed, taking his hands off of you only once to shrug out of his button up, dropping it haphazardly behind him. Your strikingly warm hands blazed over his shoulders, then down his chill-ridden arms, before he was bending over to rid himself of his waterlogged shoes and socks. Sebastian stood straight right after, resting his hands on your waist while your shaky hands slipped down to work at the wet catch of his trousers. 
The bedroom door was shut, so your heads banged together when Sebastian accidentally walked you into it. He blurted a string of curses, leaning down to press his lips gently against your forehead apologetically. Blindly, he reached behind you in search of the doorknob– which was quite frankly the only unfamiliar part of the entire room– because the door had never been closed before. 
Sebastian realized belatedly that oh, the door had never been closed before, and the couch you’d been perched on when he walked in had been covered in a nest of thick quilts and extra pillows. 
Oh. 
He trailed his lips slowly across your brow, then down the curve of your nose, before kissing the corners of your mouth so tenderly that the affection left you wanting to cry. Pressing one more kiss to the tip of your nose, he whispered, “You slept on the couch?” 
Your breath caught in your throat, and your fingers stilled in their efforts to remove the damp material from Sebastian’s clammy skin. Shivering slightly, you could only look up at him through your lashes, understanding that he wasn’t asking so much as he was stating. Of course he knew you had slept on the couch. 
Silence crept through the dark hallway, broken only by your meek sniffles, before you were nodding against Sebastian’s chest. He lowered his head in an instant, pressing his lips to your cheeks, but the sudden taste of salt and the slip of water had him pulling away to look at you. You were quick to wipe away the fresh tears dripping down your face, your breath hitching on barely-caught sobs and your bloodshot eyes squeezing shut against them. 
Sebastian captured your hands in his and twined your fingers together, nuzzling away your tears without a care for his own, and he hovered cautiously for a beat before finally closing the space between your lips to kiss you. 
It lasted for a moment, then a minute, then a lifetime as Sebastian leaned in closer and breathed love into you, receiving in equal parts the taste of his tenderness returned. He freed one hand to gently cup your face, his thumb wiping through the wet trails that still lingered, and your arm around his waist tightened immeasurably further, tugging him flush to you. 
You whispered against his soft lips then, your voice cracking, “What brought you back?” 
Sebastian pulled back enough to look at you– really look at you– and take in every bit of your face like he would never get the chance to again. It wasn’t like he didn’t already have every expression of yours memorized, but in the last seven days without seeing that warm light in your eyes, the world had seemed a whole lot darker. He sighed, swallowing thickly as he wondered how to begin phrasing every bottomless thought that he’d had since he realized why he hadn’t been getting over you. 
He didn’t need you to function. His relationship with you wasn’t an investment or something that could be measured with time, and it wasn’t like he couldn’t imagine a future without you. It was just that he didn’t want to. 
Sebastian didn’t want to live without you beside him. He didn’t want to grow old without you, and he didn’t want anything but to be surrounded by your warmth every day for the rest of his life. 
He leaned forward and kissed you again, just as gently as the last dozen times, and you reached up to cradle the hand he still had cupped against your cheek. Breathing a long sigh, Sebastian stared at you longingly as he murmured, “Wherever you are is where I want to be. It’s home. I wouldn’t be stranded without you, but the place I like best is wherever I can be next to you.” You trembled against him, both of you biting back resurfacing tears and failing miserably. “If it’s okay, can I come home?” 
A tiny whimper slipped from your throat as you nodded, wiggling your arms up to throw them around Sebastian’s shoulders, and then you were sniffling feebly into the crook of his neck. Sebastian wrapped his arms around your wait, holding you tightly as he fumbled for the doorknob, and by the time the two of you had crossed the short space to the bed, you were somewhere between laughing and crying. 
Your hands moved back to Sebastian’s glued on trousers, leaning up into his kisses eagerly as you swiftly got to removing the painfully cold attire. With a little assistance from the brunet, the two of you managed the pants– by the grace of Merlin and more than a little shimmying. Sebastian’s briefs and the oversized jumper you wore vanished significantly quicker than the rest, and he quickly eased you down onto the soft, familiar sheets. 
Sebastian rolled over beside you, lifting his hips to haul the covers over you both before he pressed his still-chilled body into your welcoming embrace, and he relished in the shiver that coursed over you from the contact. 
When your lips came together the next time, neither one of you pulled away, leaving your tears outside of the safe, blanketed world you’d created for yourselves. The whispered love that twined like smoke alongside the quiet sounds of your hands relearning each other’s skin filled the air for hours. Gasping breaths and soft moans of your name were all you could hear, Sebastian’s gentle affirmations of reverence making your heart swell with unbridled affection. 
You stayed like that all night, wholly content for the first time in a good, long while. When the sun finally began to cast its waking rays through the paneled window, bathing you both in a golden glow that illuminated the drying sweat on your skin, Sebastian’s soft murmurs and twin heartbeat lulled you into a blissful sleep.
Just before unconsciousness stole you away, you threaded your fingers through his own, letting your intertwined hands rest atop his chest in the same way Sebastian had so dearly missed. He pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, closing his eyes against the growing morning light, and he felt lighter than he ever had as you thoughtfully whispered, “Welcome home.” 
750 notes · View notes
theemporium · 10 months
Note
Dear CeCe
I have a request it’s something along the lines of
"You brought me breakfast?" "Well you said you always forget to eat before you go to work, so I thought I'd make sure you ate something."
Where the reader (much like myself because of my adhd) forgets to eat breakfast so the driver (preferably Carlos because that man can cook and I believe it’s one of his favorite things to do when not racing) brings them breakfast so they can eat.
(Ps can it be an plus sized!reader)
Thank you ❤️💙
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
.
When you had made the comment with the Spaniard present, you didn’t think it would amount to anything.
It had been during a rainy stint between free practice sessions. The rain was still going heavy and the track was too wet to even attempt a few laps, so most of the teams had been huddled in the garages as they waited for the weather to ease. 
You had been on Carlos’ side of the garage, along with some other Ferrari workers that were on the social media team. Originally, you were planning to use the extra time to get some shots of both drivers for the Instagram page, only to find yourself seated with both drivers and some others from the engineering team as you discussed random topics of conversation. 
The topic of the drivers’ insane meal and dietary requirements came up, along with superstitions and favourite meals on race day when you had made the passive comment.
“I don’t think I could be a driver. I forget to eat breakfast half the time, let alone remember which foods I can and can’t eat. It would be a mess!”
The comment had stuck with Carlos, and not in a good way. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like the idea that you were skipping out on meals. He had noticed a handful of times you’d forget to eat whilst you were at the paddock because you were too immersed in your work. But the fact it went beyond that? That you were forgetting meals outside of work?
He didn’t like it one bit.
You had been in the Ferrari motorhome the first time it happened. You had been sitting at one of the tables, your laptop sat in front of you and your eyes focused on the screen as you worked on editing some photos that were supposed to be going up that afternoon.
You didn’t even notice the Spanish driver leaving the catering kitchens, let alone making his way towards you until the chair he pulled up beside you was scraping against the floor, the screeches hard to ignore. 
You smiled when you noticed him, opening your mouth to greet him, only to freeze when he placed a plate in front of you.
You blinked. “What is this?” 
“Breakfast,” he said simply with a smile as he took the seat next to you, placing his own plate in front of him. 
“You got me breakfast?” you questioned, unsure why the action made your stomach flutter. Maybe it was the hunger you didn’t even realise you felt, or maybe it was the handsome man beside you.
“I made you breakfast,” he corrected before pausing. “Do you not like it? I can make you something else—”
“No!” you said suddenly, flushing a little at how loud and abrupt you were before clearing your throat. “No, I…thank you, Carlos.” 
“No problem, amor.” 
But what you assumed was a one time thing started to happen every day you were at the paddock. On race weekends, Carlos would always have a plate ready for you when you arrived, from Thursday straight through to Sunday. And on the weeks where there was no race, you found yourself exchanging numbers with the Spanish driver, only to find yourself receiving constant reminders from the boy.
smooth operator: remember to eat something today xx
smooth operator: did you drink enough water today, amor? xx 
smooth operator: remember to eat dinner before midnight please 
It sent a flutter of butterflies down to your stomach every time he texted. It made your heart thrum whenever he called. And you knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that you were falling for the Spanish driver. Despite knowing his actions were probably just a show of friendship, it didn’t change the way you felt for him.
And you were happy to keep your feelings reserved to yourself until Charles had made a comment one race weekend.
“Carlos, your girlfriend is here!” The other Ferrari driver called out through the garage in a sing-song voice.
Your cheeks flushed. “Oh no, I—we are just friends.” 
Charles looked sceptical. “Friends, huh?”
You frowned a little at his tone of voice. “Yes?” 
Charles laughed, shaking his head. “I knew Carlos’ whole ‘food is the way to a woman’s heart’ was a load of bullshit!”
“Ay, no it’s not!” Carlos scoffed as he made his way over, smacking his teammate on the back of his head before he turned to you, a smile on his face. “Ah, mi amor.” 
“Hey,” you murmured with a shy smile before you raised the bag in your hand, the rustle catching both boys’ attention. “I, uh, thought it was time for me to repay the favour. It’s not as good as your cooking but—”
“It’s perfect,” he insisted, not even caring what was inside the bag. 
“What a nice friendly gesture,” Charles piped up with a grin plastered across his face.
Your face heated up and Carlos frowned a little.
“You think we are just friends?” Carlos asked, his head turning to look at you.
You blinked. “We aren’t?”
“Is my flirting really that bad?” 
Your lips parted slightly. “You were flirting?”
“Oh, this is brilliant,” Charles snorted.
“Mi amor, I don’t just make meals for any girl,” Carlos said with a sheepish expression on his face. 
“Oh,” you murmured. 
Carlos raised his brows. “Oh?”
“I didn’t think you felt the same about me,” you admitted with a shy smile.
“Well, you’d be wrong,” he teased, something darker and more tempting shining in his eyes. “Think I can convince you to agree to dinner then?” 
“Will you be cooking for me, Mr Sainz?” you asked.
“It’s just one of many things I’ll be doing for you, amor,” Carlos said, his darkened gaze meeting yours.
“Then I’d be a fool to say no.” 
“This is horrible to witness, by the way,” Charles piped up once again. “I’m glad you two admitted your feelings but really, get a room, please.”
.
687 notes · View notes
muzansfangs · 6 months
Text
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You always wanted me.
Starring: Rengoku Kyojuro x f!reader; mention to past relationship with Sanemi;
Format: one-shot;
Warnings: nsfw, modern au, vaginal sex, creampie, unprotected sex, language, use of alcohol, drunkness, drunk sex but consensual, breeding kink, semi-public sex, mention to past relationship with Sanemi, cheating thought in past relationship;
Plot: A night in a pub and a failed date led you to drink away your sorrow. Unfortunately, the main reason behind your problems shows up and your tipsy state does not help you to keep your tongue tied. Too many shots of tequila, the man you have always wanted so ardently and a restroom were the ingredients required to make your heart burn that very night.
Author note: it is rare for me to put the author note on top of a one-shot, but in order to prevent possible drama to happen, I needed to clarify a thing: this fic is an old work of mine posted on my old Ao3 account and my old Wattpad profile. While I cannot log anymore into Ao3 for some reason, I can still log into my old Wattpad profile and I will try to gradually delete my old works as I fix and rewrite them! Do not worry and enjoy this little scrap!
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
“Another one!” you slurred, slamming the empty glass on the counter before you. It was your fourth shot. You were not used to drink that much, especially in a public place. The thing was you definitely had a good reason to drink down almost a whole bottle of tequila alone. You had just been stood up by a guy you had asked out to forget about your crush.
Your real crush. Or in other terms, the reason behind the loop of failed dates you had fallen into because he was so unapproachable. You wished you could forget about him, but nothing and no one could ever take his place in your heart. Why did he have to he that kind of guy that literally ruin your rationality and the chance to enjoy the company and the small attentions other men could provide you?
Disheartened, you sighed and propped your elbows on the counter in annoyace, waiting for the barman to fill your glass once again. No matter how hard to tried to ignore him, you always found yourself back at daydreaming about his piercing orange and red eyes.
Why could you not forget about him and his dazzling smile?
Whenever someone else had a chance to pick your interest and finally make you move on, something methodically went wrong. Maybe you had been jinxed.
A small smile curved your lips, when the guy in front of you carefully slided the drink in your direction. As soon as the smile appeared, it dropped, though. Someone hastily grabbed your glass and elegantly brought it to his lips, preventing you from enjoying your feast. How dare him steal your drink in such a dreadful night?
You were about to throw a punch at that rude man, but when your head snapped towards him you gaped in shock. Blinking skeptically, you gawked and your mind went blank for several seconds. That must have been a joke.
“What the Hell?” you babbled out, rolling your eyes in despair. If bad luck had a name, it would have definitely been yours. Those combined phenomena were indeed persuading you to believe some witch had cursed you for real.
“Fancy meeting you here, Y/N! Mind if I join you? You seem pretty upset. What's happened?” Kyojuro casually asked, sitting right next to you.
“You happened! - you asserted, darting your eyes on the barman - Another one, please” you asked, or better pleaded him, folding your arms over your chest.
Now you truly were irritated. Not only he pestered your mind day and night, but he also had the audacity of stealing your drinks and clubbing in your favorite place.
The blonde man chuckled and shook his head at you “Come on, don't hold a grudge. I have actually done it on purpose. I have to confess that I have been watching you for a while now. I don't think you should drink that much, you know?” he said softly, his eyes trailing up to your face. For a second, he seemed genuinely concerned.
Kyojuro Rengoku had always had a crush on you. He would have asked you out, if Sanemi had not messed up his plans by fooling around with you. After your break-up, he had noticed some changes in your behavior. You seemed not to care about anyone anymore. It was like you were running away from feelings and Kyojuro could not stand the rumors of you sleeping around with tons of strangers to possibly fill a void in your heart. It hurt him.
He was meant for loving you, not those bottom-dwellers you occasionally spent your nights with.
“So you're a watcher now! How cute! I don't need a babysitter, I can take care of myself” you blurted out, squinting your eyes and trying your best to act cool.
Unfortunately, your body had had enough. Your vision was getting blurry. You hated to admit it, but you were actually glad he was there to watch over you, even if you wanted to rip his face to shreds.
But just like your body, your mind began to wander in the very places you were trying to keep it awat from.
You glanced at him, your heart sinking into your chest at the sight your eyes had been blessed with. Kyojuro, drink in hand, was moistening his lower lip with his tongue. He seemed to be mulling something over. Maybe, he was just offended by your arrogance, or maybe he had a date and he was regretting having approached you.
Actually, you did not care. Happy, sad, angry or thoughtful it was Kyojuro. It was him, the only one your heart desired.
Oh, the things you wanted him to do with his tongue.
It was not a good time for fantasizing, though. You clenched your jaw, reaching your hand out to grab your glass, but you lost your grip on it and the shot slipped from your hand. The liquor inevitably spilled on Kyojuro's white shirt, making him stand up in shock. You wanted to apologize, your mouth was already opened, but you gawked when you spotted the outline of his toned, chiseled chest underneath the material of his shirt.
“Uhm... I— Kyo, I'm sorry! Let me help you” you stuttered, searching for a tissue in your purse. How stupid of you.
He was soaked, how could a tissue solve his problem or make it better?
You groaned in frustration, frenetically rummaging through your bag when Kyojuro's voice stopped you.
“Wait, it's okay, really! Let's go to the restroom. The dryer might help me” he reasoned, suddenly encircling your waist and pulling you towards him. Was it real? You blushed and tried to distance yourself from him, but the only reaction you got in return, was being held even tighter.
You frowned and shot him an interrogative glance, which was returned by a bright smile “Hey, you know, I can walk without you leading me around like a toddler” you pinpointed, rolling your eyes in feigned contempt. How could you deny you loved the feeling of being in such a close proximity with him?
Kyojuro, on the other hand, sighed and pushed the door of the restroom opened to let you in first “If you were fine, we would have not had a problem now. Why do you always have to be a bitch, anyway?” he asked you, undoing the first buttons of his shirt right away.
Not even firing something back, you froze solid and turned your face to the opposite side of the room, trying to ignore the urge to contemplate the celestial vision dazzling you in the restroom of a pub. You were not capable of saying a word. Your brain was fuming.
'What the fuck, Kyojuro?! Can't you just leave?' you thought, rubbing your temples to ease the pressure a tad bit.
“I’m talking to you. Look at me” he said then. You felt his gaze boring holes on the back of your head, but you knew that facing him meant losing your self-control.
“You know, I am fine staring at the wall. Don't you—…”you tried to talk back, but Kyojuro forcefully spun you around. He was done with you and the childish attitude of your drunk self.
Your hair whipped your cheeks, as you found yourself lost into a pair of orange and red orbs scrutinizing your face. Well, that was your end.
Your lips parted and you gulped nervously at the sight before your eyes. A shirtless Kyojuro was holding both your wrists in his huge hands, your eyes travelling down his toned chest and abs. Could it be even worse? Yes, it actually could.
“I'm still waiting for an answer” he stated, arching a thick eyebrow up.
You cleared your throat and shook your head “I'm not going to give you one” you murmured. Was it really that hard to understand that your behavior was your only defense against your love for him?
After all, you had screwed up your long-lasting relationship for him.
Kyojuro stared at you for a few seconds, then he swiftly pushed your back against the wall. Your hands were easily pinned up above your head, as he towered over you in a iron grip. The message was crystal clear. He did not want you to move.
You were stunned in silence, your breath hitched, as his face was now dangerously close to your mouth.
“What the fuck are you doing?” you breathed out, your voice betraying you. You liked this physical contact way too much to keep on fronting.
The blonde man in front of you cracked a smile “I'm trying to solve the problem once and for all. I know why you and Sanemi broke up. — he started — He told me you screamed my name, as you climaxed around him”.
He knew.
You blushed and gawked at his words. He had just thrown facts at your face. You had been exposed. Was it really necessary denying the truth any longer? No, it was not. What about your sense of shame? It was long gone, after the amount of alcohol you had gulped down. You were not even mad at Sanemi for having blabbed out your little secret. This was just above you.
You glared at Kyojuro, tilting your head to the side to contemplate his face properly. He was handsome as Hell. You wanted him and you wanted him now. You had always wanted him.
“Well then, I guess the comedy is over. I should be thankful to Sanemi for having exposed me like that. I finally can get what I wanted from the very beginning” you said, before hungrily smashing your lips against his ones.
It took a moment for him to realize what you were doing, and maybe you were pretty shocked too by your boldness, but once your taste indulged on his tongue he gained courage and kissed you back.
Your tongues danced together, soft moans left your mouth, when Kyojuro inevitably began to lead the way.
You felt like you were on a burning ship, without any lifeboat you could jump in to escape your fate. Still, you did not fight for your life. You were happily embracing your destiny. You had chosen it yourself. You had broken the curse affecting you for years.
When his lips left yours, your breath was uneven but your eyes sparkled with a savage lust he could not ignore and it was enough for him to unbuckle his belt and slip his calloused hand underneath your dress.
Words were superfluous, you both needed your release. Your hunger was fuel to his burning desire. Kyojuro was usually the calm and collected guy everybody got along with. Getting to see what laid underneath that cheerful and respectful façade was sending you straight to cloud nine.
The moment his fingers made their way beneath your panties and reached your slit, he sighed and began to stroke your bundle of nerves in circluar motions “We won't need much foreplay. You are so damn wet” he whispered, drawing invisible circles on your clitoris.
You were breathless. Whimpers and whines erupted from your throat as you bucked your hips against his hand. You were such a mess he envied Sanemi for having got you before he did.
“Please, please, Kyojuro, I need you... Don't waste time” you breathed out, grinding your hips against his hand.
Hearing those words falling from your lips, the blonde man shoved two fingers into your core and slowly pumped them in and out of your entrance. You loved how dominant he was, you loved the way he seemed to ignore you and your needs. Everything he did was magic.
“Gosh, you're such an impatient brat” he joked, watching your mouth resembling the shape of an o. Sinful moans erupted from your throat and you digged your nails onto his shoulders not to collapse onto the floor. You were close and he knew it. He could feel it by the way your walls squeezed his fingers, almost sucking them in. Therefore, he hastily pulled them out of you, much to your dismay.
You whined for the sudden emptiness you were experiencing and your eyes locked with his one in a pleading glance. Kyojuro unzipped his pants and pulled them down enough to allow his member to spring out of his boxers.
You blushed, as his hand found its way to your dripping core again. He easily pushed your panties aside and hooked your right leg up on his hip for a better access.
You could feel his hot breath fanning your lips and his bulge pressing against your entrance, collecting your juices as a lube.
“Are you okay? Can I go ahead?” he asked, kissing you gently then.
You nodded and cupped his cheek in your hand, pressing your forehead against his one “Drunk or not, I love you” you whispered, confessing your feelings after years of fears and tears.
Kyojuro held you close to him and finally entered you, earning a loud moan of pleasure from you. He waited for you to adjust to his size, a strained moan rumbling from deep in his chest as he pushed himself into you slowly, inch after inch. Gasping and moaning softly, you felt your walls adapting to him and once he was buried deep into you, Kyojuro gently pulled out a bit. He started pounding into you slowly but passionately, filling you in places no one had ever reached before.
You screamed his name, not worrying about being in a public place and Kyojuro muffled your moans with his tongue anyway.
“Tell me how badly you wished it was me and not him back in time. Tell me. Tell me how many times you wanted to fuck me on your shared bed” he stated, slamming into you a little faster now.
You moaned his name, your legs shaking as you lolled your head back in ecstasy “Countless times” you said, as he gripped your face by your jaw, forcing you to look at him.
“I'm not pulling out, you know that?” he rasped, hitting the perfect spot inside you as your eyes locked.
It was the perfect ending, something long overdue. You kissed him enjoying every minute of it until the very end. You came with a loud moan, he following right after you. You felt his seed filling you up to you cervix, as he peppered your face in small, affectionate kisses. He was perfect, this was perfect.
“You're coming home with me tonight” he breathed out, caressing your cheekbones before pulling out of you.
You were finally his.
AUHTHOR NOTE.
Hello there! Welcome to ‘AUTHOR NOTE PART TWO’, lmao. I intended to post this yesterday but I really fell asleep after dinner on the couch. I only woke up when my boyfriend came back home and his dog began to run and bark to tell me he was opening the door. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one! I love Kyo with a passion and I wanted to show him some love too!
As per usual, likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreacited!
TAGS: @doumadono @electronicwitchcollection @mrskokushibo
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jjunieworld · 6 months
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02. at 6pm tomorrow ⸝ ˚⋆
↳ half written, half texts. word count: 1.5k
you and yunjin go through the doors of the cafe, the bell at the top ringing in the process. your friends look up and smiles spread across their faces.
you both take your seats at the table. yunjin reaches over and takes a small bag of chips from hueningkai. a waiter, who’ve you all become quite accustomed to, asks you all for your order. she scribbles away on her little notepad and you all ring out your answers, tells you all to have a nice day, and then scurries off.
“don’t be mad…” you start, turning to jake, yeonjun, and hueningkai. they give you an expectant look.
“soobin asked to join, he needs my help with classes.” you glance at the clock, he should be here any moment. you hear a chorus of groans and turn your head back to the group.
“i do not want to see that asshole’s face,” yeonjun says, a bitter look on his face. you always seem to forget that he has a history with soobin and his friends. they all used to be friends until they betrayed yeonjun and everyone who wasn’t part of it went along with it. your heart sinks a little.
“i’m so sorry, yeonjun,” you say. “i tried to tell him i had plans but he said he really needed my help since i’m in the class.” yeonjun just shrugs a little.
“it’s okay, it’s not your fault. i just hate him.” the waiter comes back with your drinks and you all dig in.
“so what did he need your help with again?” hueningkai asked. you reminded him and he let out an ‘ahh’.
“didn’t think he was that smart if i’m being honest,” jake said. earning a laugh from the group. he was next to you at the table so you elbowed him, causing him to spit out a little of his drink. “hey!”
the bell at the top of the door rang and you shot your head towards it. soobin walked in, the same as you’ve seen him only thirty minutes before, looking around looking for you.
you could get used to him looking for you, you thought.
you raised your hand a little and waved it in the air, hoping you’re not coming off as desperate. it got his attention and he smiled as he made his way up to your group. you stood as he reached the table.
“hello,” soobin waved and looked around the group. you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes quickly traveled over yeonjun. you desperately wish that you knew the whole story of what went down between them.
when you came to your friends about your crush on soobin, they reacted the way you would’ve expected. some yay’s, some boo’s, but yeonjun revealed that they actually know each other. he told the group about being friends, and then the betrayal, and how the others turned on him as well. you instantly felt bad about the feelings that blossomed for soobin. you told yeonjun that you’ll try your hardest to quickly get over soobin, but he told you not to worry about it. that what happened between them was a while ago, and you can’t help who you like. still, you felt horrible and tried your hardest to get over soobin, but as soon as all the feelings were almost gone he would do something that would make them come back at full force.
“hi,” you smiled. you grabbed your drink from the table. “let’s go to an empty table and i can help you.” he nodded and the two of you walked to a table a couple tables away from the one your friends were at. not far away enough that you couldn’t see them, but far enough that you couldn’t hear their conversation.
anxiety was rushing through you and it took everything in your power to try and appear calm as the two of you sat down together. scenarios were popping up in your mind and you forcibly pushed them back.
he sets the bag he was carrying down on the table and pulls out his laptop. when he opens it, it's already open to the classes that you can apply for.
“so i was looking through the requirements for the class and i think i’m qualified for most of them, but there’s one requirement that i’m sort of confused about.” soobin points to the requirement that he’s talking about and you lean into the laptop to take a look.
the two of you are so close now that your arms are almost brushing against each other. you take a deep breath. the requirement is about how if you count the credits towards one course that isn’t for sociology, then you won’t be permitted in the class.
“currently, i have the credits going to economics, but i don’t know if i could change that or not.” soobin says
you nod, thinking, “you should be able to switch the credits over to sociology and it should count for the minor. i would just go and talk to the dean just to make sure.” you decide to be bold and look over at him. “other than that, you should be able to take the foundations of sociological theory.”
he leans back in his chair and smiles at you for a moment, catching you horrendously off guard. you can’t help but smile back at him.
“you’re the best, y/n,” he starts, when you start to tell him it’s nothing he cuts you off with, “no really, you are! none of my friends knew what to do and it would’ve been kinda embarrassing to go to mr. lee himself. you’re a lifesaver.”
the words replay in your mind over and over. and you look down to try and hide your heated cheeks only to notice that you and soobin’s knees are touching.
this is absolutely unbearable, you think, but a huge smile breaks out in your face.
“i need to repay your kindness somehow!” you hear soobin say, making you look up.
“oh! there’s no need for that, truly. anyone would’ve did what i did!”
soobin shakes his head, “i insist! hm…” he trails off as he looks away and thinks for a moment. “how about i buy you dinner? what do you say, tomorrow at 6pm? at rosello’s?”
you laugh a little and nod, giving in, “yeah… okay! okay, that sounds good!” your heart leaps in your chest. you’re on cloud nine and can’t help to feel that this might be the start of something new.
soobin nods, and packs his laptop back up. you both stand up as he puts his bag on.
“thank you again,” he says, turning to you. you put a hand up.
“it was nothing really! i’m happy to help!”
“see you tomorrow. rosello’s at 6pm, don’t forget!” he says. the two of you begin to walk away from your table, you back to your friend’s table and him to the door. you give a little wave as he turns towards the door, hearing the ringing sound and it shutting behind him.
as soon as you sit down, yunjin shows you all the pictures she sneaked of the two of you together. you playfully scold her, but inside you were ascending. one was of the two of you where your arms were brushing together, another of him leaning back in his chair smiling at you, and another of the two of you smiling at each other. it looked like you guys were a couple on a date.
your cheeks heated up even more and your friends made fun of you for it.
“what’s at 6pm tomorrow?” hueningkai asked. you told them of him insisting to buy you dinner at rosello’s, a pretty expensive restaurant in the middle of town.
“wow,” jake said, as if he were telling a dramatic retelling, “an expensive candlelight dinner! just the two of you! ooo… what could happen next!” you elbowed him again.
“it’s not a candlelight dinner!” you protested.
“it actually is,” yunjin said. your eyes widen. was this supposed to be a date? was he asking you out?
no, you think to yourself, it was just him being nice.
“remember us when you’re too busy with soobin saying how much you love each other,” said hueningkai, teasingly. you quickly shushed him and looked around the cafe. thankfully the people who were in the cafe were tables away and none of them heard him. the group laughed as you all gathered your things to leave.
your friends were ahead of you already making their way to the door as you were grabbing your drink. yeonjun came up beside you and put a hand on your shoulder. he had a serious look on his face.
“i just want you to be careful with him, y/n. him and his friends. you don’t know the type of people they are.”
you gave him a firm nod, “i promise i will be.” and the two of you followed your friends out the cafe.
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masterlist.
summary: choi soobin has always been the popular kid surrounded by his popular friends. y/n… not so much. one night, soobin and his friends make bet that soobin can’t get y/n to date him in a month. unfortunately for y/n, they’re a hopeless romantic.
A/N: giggling and kicking my feet like i’m not the one who wrote it… enjoy!
taglist: @imagineyour-kpopboy @gothgyuu @carengene (if your name is bold it wouldn’t let me tag you!)
— kipo <3
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Hatchetfield Theory: Becky Barnes Has The Gift
So I wrote yesterday about how we might be underestimating how important Becky is to the overall narrative of Hatchetfield. After all, she's the Warrior of Light in Black Friday, and now we know that the original Workin' Boys script was about Wilbur Cross trying to sacrifice specifically Becky at a black altar--when it wasn't her that died, the whole thing fell apart.
The more I dwell on it, the more I think that Becky might have had a touch of the Gift as a child. Or even a tad more than just a touch... (Full theory under the cut. In typical me form, it does gets a little wild at the end.)
Perhaps, like with Lex, her powers were strong enough that they never fully wasted away, even as she grew out of the correct age and forgot they ever existed in the first place. This could be what makes her the Warrior of the Light, and explain why Wiggly's hold on her was more tenuous than his grasp on any of the other adults. Think about it--unlike Tom or any of the others, she only ever seems to personally care much about the doll when she's face-to-face with it and its thrall is strongest. And whereas Tom required a whole scene and climatic song to throw off Wiggly's influence and see the truth, Becky went from attacking Hannah over the doll in one scene to shooting Linda and letting Lex burn the very same Wiggly in the next. Maybe, when she accidentally knocked herself out with the shot, the Gift lurking in her subconscious was able to take hold and completely free her from Wiggly's control.
So if Becky did have enough power that she still retains some of the Gift into adulthood, like a somewhat less powerful Lex, that could be what Wilbur needed for his Workin' Boys ritual. Hannah would have been too young and important, and Lex could have been unreachable or not usable for some other reason (I think a lot about how Wilbur and Lex seem to have the same power, but that's another post), so Becky it was. Since we now know that Wilbur, erm, crosses between timelines (geddit?), he could even have possibly chosen her because of what happened in Black Friday.
And then there's the tree. As @kmesons pointed out, the one thing we really know about Becky's childhood, outside of her high school cheerleading and relationship, is that at some point she rather famously climbed a tree and refused to come down for two days. So my question is, what if it was not a regular tree, but part of the Witchwood? After all, the "Becky Barnes Climbed A Tree" song implies that the tree in question was quite large, and we know that things grow fast and big in the Wood. Maybe, like the Fosters, the Barnes lived on the edge of the forest. If Becky had a strong touch of the Gift, could she have struck a bond with the gifted person planted inside of this particular tree, a-la Hannah in The Witch in the Web? The fact that Becky's tree climb is the namesake for a whole Nightmare Time story indicates that there's some supernatural element to the situation, and that could definitely be a start. And (told you we'd get a little wild) if she did befriend a planted kid, and climb their tree for reasons as of yet unknown, could that tree have given her something? Knowledge or some other powerful gift that the Lords don't want her to have, and yet makes her a warrior?
(And we can't forget Stanley, the abusive husband who chases her into the Witchwood in a brutal fight to the death. Who loses the fight and disappears, last seen lying bleeding out among the trees... perhaps trees just like the one she climbed as a child, trees grown from children that had been just like her. We've been focused on how the fight taking place in the Witchwood could easily mean that Stanley's still alive, or at least undead, but what if it's the other way around? What if the trees helped her?)

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