#note: she just left after that. nobody won
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dude 2days french class is so funny.
#shut up mars#its our last class for the semester#and we did like a blind auction using fake euros#and one of my classmates got like a box but when she opened it#it was just empty with ONE PLAIN BISCUIT#AND A STICKY NOTE THAT SAID 'I LOVE YOU'#AND NOBODY WAS ADMITTING TO BEING THE ONE WHO GAVE THE GIFT#THEN AT THE VERY END THERE WAS ONE LEFT AND IT WAS WRAPPED USING A4 PAPER REALLY SHITTILY#AND IT WAS LIKE TWO PACKETS OF BISCUITS#THE SAME FUCKING BISCUITS#AND WE ASKED IF IT WAS FROM MY TEACHER AND HE WAS LAUGHING SO HARD HE WAS CRYING#HE GOT THE BISCUITS#THEN AFTER WE ASKED HOW MUCH IT COSTED#AND HE JUST LAUGHED HE DIDNT SAY ANYTING#THEN LATER THE GIRL THAT WON THE PACKETS OF BISCUITS ASKED WHETHER OR NOT HE MADE THEM#AND HE JUST LIED HE SAID HE DID BUT HE CLEARLY DIDN'T BCS THEY WERE WRAPPED IN LIKE PLASTIC PACKAGING#HES SO FUCKING FUNNY IM GONNA CRY
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connect — ethan landry
Description: Ethan is enamoured with the girl who beats him during a college trivia night.
Pairing: Ethan Landry x F!Reader (she/her pronouns, reader is referred to as a girl)
Warnings/Tags: non-gf ethan, fluff, probably super corny (you have been warned.)
Word Count: 3k
Author’s Note: the trivia is based off an episode of only connect. for the record, i’m not british i just love that show
There aren’t many things in college that really matter to Ethan besides his grades. Sure, he has his friends—but they understand his incessant need to excel in academics once he opened up about his aspirations, which more often than not have him holed up in the apartment he shares with his longtime roommate, Chad. They’ve been roommates since freshman year in the dorms, and Chad said he didn’t want anyone else to be his roommate, so they decided to rent an apartment for junior year. Being a good roommate is third in the list of important things.
However, the thing that takes second place is something that his friends don’t understand. It’s the annual trivia competition held by Blackmore’s Honor Students Society. Particularly, one held by the STEM students. This tradition, having existed since the society was founded, has been a loved custom.
Spanning three days, the winner gets a donation to a charity of their choice under their name at the end. It’s been vital for frats and sororities to win because of the reputation points earned for their society, but Ethan is not part of one; yet he still wants to win.
Often, he gets teased by Chad and Mindy while he prepares for the upcoming few days. But he lets them, knowing they’d agree to be his teammates like they always do. His team during the first part—the trivia bowl—has always consisted of him, Chad, Mindy, Anika, and Tara. They switch out teammates for different categories. It has worked all these years, there’s no reason for it not to work again.
Well, he’d be proven wrong this time.
The first day is by far the most difficult due to the amount of people participating: twelve teams.
The lecture hall is alight with excitement, nerves running through the crowd as the host gets on the stage. Ethan being the team captain, he sits in the middle with Chad and Anika on his left, Mindy and Tara on his right.
(After some trial and error, it was best Chad and Mindy didn’t get to sit together because of their banter, and if the arrangement was Mindy with Anika and Chad with Tara, it’s just Ethan fifth-wheeling.)
“Who’s ready to rumble?!” The host shouts, the boom of the microphone travelling around the room. They cheer in anticipation. “Alright! I’ll explain the rules for the quiz bowl, then we’ll get to introducing our teams.
“For this first day, we’ll play connections—the goal is for your team to find the connection between the clues we put on the screen,” he points to the big projector screen. “For the first ten seconds, there will be two clues. After that, the other two clues will be shown and there are fifteen seconds for your team to figure it out.
“The clues will get harder as it goes on. Every team has a bell, whoever dings first gets to answer. Now! Let’s get to introducing! From the front of the room, you—“ he points.
Chad speaks for the team, “We are the Fab Five, and we’ve got a champion with us.” He half jokes, shaking Ethan by the shoulders.
The host chuckles, “That’s right. Certainly a legend, Ethan Landry, who’s won the past two years. Think you can keep your streak?”
Ethan, confidently nodding, “Absolutely.”
Every other team introduces themselves. Nobody stands out, at least not for now. There are only some familiar faces to Ethan and that’s it.
It’s not until about halfway through the game, during a question that Ethan realizes he may have actual competition. Of course, he’s been confident throughout the past hour, his team in the lead with the most points, but there’s a close runner-up that answers from across the room.
The screen reads:
Audio CDs. Details of The Budget.
The silence in the room is cut with a familiar ding. Ethan looks to the source, spotting the one person who seemed to have an edge over his entire team. You.
“Red books,” You answer.
God, who are you? Ethan thinks. He shakes his head—he has to get it together. His strategy has been to focus on his team only, and he can’t stray from that now. His brows furrow when the host says you’re correct.
“This has been interesting,” the host smiles, “The Fab Five has tied with the Three Fates.”
Ethan looks closer, and indeed, there are only three people on your team.
You don’t seem to pay him any mind.
So the game continues.
Aqua Regis. Aqua Fortis.
“Alchemist names for acids,” Ethan answers.
Oscar Niemeyer, Brasilia. Charles Barry, London.
“Architects of parliaments,” you chime.
Meanwhile, his friends can definitely sense the nervousness radiating off Ethan. He isn’t usually concerned with staying first place, but he keeps sneaking glances to your position in the room and they’re beginning to think it’s not just about trivia.
All in all, their team still stays in the lead with two points ahead of yours.
-
The second day.
The host welcomes everyone back into the room, a few less people than yesterday. He leans against the podium, grinning as your team and Ethan’s are forced closer together, tables next to each other.
“The teams have been cut down to the top four who earned the most points yesterday,” he explains. “The other teams are invited to come watch, as well as anyone else interested as the game finally gets interesting.
“For the next hour, you’ll play sequences. The goal is to predict the fourth in a sequence—if you predict it with less clues on the screen, you get more points. Two seconds in between each clue. No need for introductions, let’s do it!”
Fear.
Surprise.
Ethan rings the bell. “Devotion to the Pope.”
“Three points to the Fab Five. Next!”
Observation.
Statement.
“Testing.” You answer.
“Three points to the Three Fates, well done.”
It goes on like that, with the other two teams occasionally answering. But mainly it’s just either yours or his that answers.
A game of cat and mouse. It gets under Ethan’s skin, the way you easily answer the questions while laying back in your chair all the while Ethan is probably bouncing off his seat.
Amidst the chaos inside his own head, a jumble of questions and answers, there’s something about you that stands out. In his own circles, he’d never seen or heard about you. Though Blackmore was a big college, the amount of STEM honors students they had was relatively small, with the university being known for its film programs. He needed to know who you are.
The game is over before he knows it.
Hours later, thinking about his choices and zoning out, his train of thought is interrupted by an object being hurled at his head.
“You okay?” Chad throws a pillow at Ethan, who is sitting on the couch. He catches it last second.
“Why?” Ethan hugs the pillow close to his chest as his roommate gets something from the kitchen.
“You just seemed fidgety today. At the trivia thing.”
Even after knowing Chad all these years, it surprises him that he notices.
“No, yeah. I’m fine. Nobody’s just come close like that before.”
“Well, Y/N’s smart.”
Ethan’s interest piques. “You know her?”
“Yeah. I met her at a party, last semester. She just transferred here. She was drunk, going off to me about this new thing they discovered in physics.”
“Oh,” is all he can say.
“What, are you nervous?”
“Why would I be nervous?”
“Tomorrow’s the big day. You’re gonna have to face her without us.”
“Shit.” He sighs. He was so caught up in beating you that he’d forgotten the last part of the challenge. He has to face you individually with other teams watching to see who gets the winning prize.
“You guys would get along, I think.”
“Are you kidding? She’s getting on my nerves.”
Chad tilts his head, akin to that of a confused puppy. “I don’t think you know the real reason, bud.”
“Don’t start.”
“I’m just saying!” He shrugs. “She’s very pretty.”
And as his (infuriating) roommate walks away, Ethan can’t help but silently agree.
-
A few continuous buzzes from Ethan’s phone is what finally takes him out of a studying session. Picking up the device, the screen reads:
Quinn
can you come pick up ur notes
He groans. The sun had taken its place above, a contrast to when it was just dawn as he woke up to study for the final part of the quiz. It was probably a good idea to go outside, though.
On the steps of the Carpenter/Quinn residence, he taps his foot against the welcome mat impatiently.
The door swings open.
Here’s the thing: With the three people living in this apartment, it was a common occurrence for friends to be over. Tara’s got a big group that she knows, Sam has coworkers over, often Danny even opens the door or one of Quinn’s flings.
But out of all the possibilities, the last person in his mind to open the door is you.
Ethan’s smile drops, and you seem to notice it. “Oh, sorry.” You stand aside to let him in, yet he doesn’t move an inch. “Who are you looking for? You’re Ethan, right? Chad’s roommate?“
Just then, Tara’s voice booms from the other room. “Come in, Ethan!”
One second under your scrutinizing gaze is enough to make him stumble into the apartment, and he’s sure he can feel your stare burning the back of his head as he rushes to Quinn’s room.
He closes his sister’s door with a slam, making her jump. “What’s your problem, asshole?” She turns from her spot on the bed, facing him.
It takes a minute for him to catch his breath. “My problem? I should be asking you that!” He’s careful not to be too loud, his words coming out more as a whisper. “Why would you ask me to come here?”
“To pick up your notes? I told you.”
“No that—” He shakes his head, “That Y/N is here. Didn’t I tell you about that girl from trivia?”
“The one you have a crush on?” She laughs. “So? She’s friends with Tara.”
“Friends with—” His head tilts to rest against the wall. “You didn’t tell me she was here.”
“…I did. Didn’t you read my texts?”
Texts. As in plural. He fully opens his phone into the app, and lo and behold, the texts are there.
Quinn
the girl you have a crush on is here lol
where have u been
can you come pick up ur notes
She laughs even harder when she realizes his mistake.
“Please shut up, Quinn.”
“Why don’t you just talk to her? She’s nice!”
“Keep it down.”
“Fine,” she sighs, rolling her eyes. “Your notes are on my desk.”
He picks them up and turns to leave, however not without an additional comment from his sister.
“I promise you won’t regret talking to her.”
He only grumbles, walking out. He has to face you again, though he’s sure if he’s fast enough he can avoid you.
Nope. Totally wrong.
You stop him before he exits the apartment, he shoots a stern look to Tara in the background when she audibly holds back a snicker.
“Hey, you.” You nod to him. “You’re my competition.”
He finally faces you. His eyes scan your expression, treading lightly as to not get lost in your eyes. “I am.”
You flash him a devilish smirk, “You think you’ll win?”
“I know I will.” He quips back, slowly gaining confidence. You slide in front of him, opening the door to let him out.
“See you tonight?”
“Good luck,” he smiles. “You’ll need it.”
Unbeknownst to him, it was Tara who invited you over just to psych him out. And it worked.
“The final day of this competition,” The host speaks to the crowd consisting of the teams who competed. “It’s been a close race between the Three Fates and the Fab Five.
“Per our tradition, the team captain of the two leading teams are to face off each other in a timed game of missing vowels.
“On my right is Ethan Landry, team captain of the Fab Five with twenty-two points,” He reads off an index card. “He’s an honors statistics major, in his third year here at Blackmore. On my left is Y/N Y/L/N, team captain of the Three Fates who have twenty, she is a double major on linguistics and anthropology. She recently transferred here from Rutgers University.“
The audience cheers. You and Ethan stare at each other intensely, like you can see straight through his soul.
“The objective of this game is to fill in the missing vowels of what’s on the screen. You’ll be given a category, the first one being endangered mammals. Thirty minutes on the clock, use your bell to answer, and best of luck. Time starts now.”
FRC NLPH NT
Your bell goes off before he can even think, “African Elephant.”
You have an advantage, he realizes. But he studied.
BLC KRH NCR S
“Black rhinoceros,” Ethan answers. You smirk—for a second he’s thinking if you hadn’t answered on purpose.
The game is back and forth.
RN GTN
“Orangutan.”
BC TRNC ML
“Bactrian Camel.”
He can feel the audience’s eyes jumping between him and you, and besides either of your voices and the host moving onto the next category, the room is unusually quiet. It’s not like any other year, he should have worked harder.
It does not help that you’re gorgeous, but it takes all of his willpower not to get distracted by your frustratingly enchanting smile and the crinkle of your eyes when you beat him—
You beat him, and he lost.
“Time’s up!” The man announces, and he meets you halfway on the stage to shake your hand.
“There’s always next year, man.” Chad pats him on the back pitifully, though he knows it’s out of kindness. “Look who’s coming,” His roommate gestures to behind him. He turns around, and of course you’re there.
Ethan can see your group exiting the room, and he can sense his group leaving, too. It’s just you and him now.
“You did well,” you say. And to his chagrin, it really does sound like you mean it. “Wanna get a milkshake?”
He tries not to show surprise. “With me?”
“The least I can do,” you nod.
“Lead the way.”
He hopes you don’t notice the beads of sweat on his forehead.
He can’t help but feel slightly guilty when you pay for his drink. Slightly. You did beat him.
Expecting to separate from you after that, he moves to leave but you catch his wrist. “Where are you going?” There’s a laugh brewing, but you hold it back.
“I’m—“ He pauses. “I thought—“
Thankfully, you get him. “No, I wanted to talk to you. Come on, I know a spot.”
The cold drink in his hand is surely a good distraction. He follows you into a small academic building, and you start making small talk with him. He really doesn’t mind, not when it’s you.
“Where are we going?” He finally questions when you lead him to a set of stairs.
“Rooftop,” you reply when you both reach the top.
“Isn’t that illegal?”
“Illegal?” You open the door, ushering him outside as you follow.
The sunset is the first thing he sees. He’s drawn to it, staring in awe. Various pink and orange hues paint the sky.
“It’s not illegal,” you pipe up. “Blackmore just doesn’t allow it. It’s a liability.”
He knows that, though. “So how did you get us up here?”
“That’s for me to know.”
He mirrors your grin. “Come on, tell me.”
“Maybe one day.”
The implication of a deeper friendship with you makes his heart soar. Or something more than that.
“What does the competition mean to you? Do you just like the bragging rights?”
His brows furrow. “I don’t know,” he shrugs. That’s a lie, he knows. “I donate the money to this animal shelter where I got my childhood dog.”
It’s a moment of honesty that is unexpected, even for him.
“What’s the shelter?”
“Why?”
“So I can donate it under your name.”
Hm? “What?”
You chuckle, “I like your reason. It’s nice.”
“But you won.”
“And I get to decide,” you say.
He can’t really argue with that. So he does the next best thing, “We can do it under both our names. You keep the bragging rights.”
“What makes you think I want it?”
“You were teasing me!” He bickers.
You go back and forth again, this time without any prying eyes. You stay talking until your milkshakes are done, even more after that. The sun has almost gone down, with only a little bit of light left.
When it’s time to leave, though, neither of you want to. It’s an invisible string.
“Just text me the name of the shelter.”
“Text—“ he starts, “I don’t have your number.”
You raise your brows, as if asking something. “Well?”
Getting the hint, “…Can I have your number?”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry#scream 6#scream 6 x reader#scream vi#scream#scream x reader#ethan landry fluff
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Smokin’
Eddie Munson x Reader (18+)
Summary: (reader smokes weed with her crush Eddie, lowered inhibitions lead to shared secrets, smut ensues)
Word Count: 5.8k
Content: she/her pronouns, drugs (don’t do drugs, kids), some cursing, sexual content, p in v sex, unprotected sex, praise during sex, pet names (princess, baby, sweet thing), loss of virginity (reader’s)
Minors DNI pls !!!
Part 2
*~*~*
All she could focus on was the ticking of the clock, digging deeper into her psyche and driving her absolutely crazy that class was not over yet. She wasn’t a bad student, in fact, she did very well in her English class, but right now all she could think about was meeting Eddie out by the abandoned wooden table in the woods, just far enough from the school so nobody would bother them. She was downright jonesing for some of that za.
It didn’t hurt that she had had a crush on the school freak for a while. They shared the senior Calculus class, and if it wasn’t for her letting him brazenly cheat off of all of her work, he wouldn’t even be passing. In the period before her English—the Calculus class—she had slid a note to Eddie that read, Woods after last period? He answered with a subtle nod, and that was that. They had plans to make a sweet deal.
The bell rang, and she scooped up her bag and almost ran out of the classroom, jump-scaring a few peers as she zoomed past them still in their seats. She slipped through the halls towards the exit, darting past all of the high school trope groups and the group-less people who were getting excited for the weekend.
It was a sunny day outside with small fluffy clouds, but still a briskness to the air, making her realize she had left her sweater in her English class in her rush. Well, she thought, I guess it’ll be in the lost and found on Monday.
She snuck past the track field, managing to stay unnoticed by all of the students leaving the school at the same time. Trudging through the forest, she made a game of it to make as little sound as she could, staring at her feet and avoiding twigs and leaves that looked particularly crunchy. She almost won the game in her head, just about to make it to the wooden table...
She hit something sturdy, immediately bouncing backwards and landing hard on her ass. “Ow,” she reacted, then looking up to meet the eyes of the man, the myth, the legend. Eddie Munson.
“Sorry, was I in your way?” he joked, extending out an arm to help her up off of the ground. She accepted it, taking his hand and feeling him yank her up with such ease that it gave her a small headrush coming up so fast.
“Sorry, I was looking at the ground,” she mumbled, following him to join him at the table.
“Yeah, I noticed you do that,” he said. Even when he didn’t mean to, everything he said sounded like flirting, and it only made her more nervous around him. He sat across from her, opening his box and keeping its contents out of view of her. “So... same as usual?”
“Mmm, I think I want more this time. How much can I get for thirty-five?” she asked, pulling a crumpled wad of cash out of her jeans pocket.
“Woah, that’s a lot. You trying to stave off our little visits?” he jokingly asked, although the fastest little glint of sadness shone in his big brown eyes.
“Oh, no, you know these are the highlights of my week,” she mused back, flashing a cheeky grin that had him smiling back immediately. He pulled a bag of bud out of his box, and it was a lot; her eyes were glued to the hefty amount of weed in the plastic bag. She could feel his stare burning her skin as she struggled to meet eyes again. “How much would I have to pay you to roll for me? I’m just not as good at it as you are.”
“Princess, you know flattery is the way to my heart,” he openly flirted, “For you? I’d roll your whole bag for free. Only price is that you’d have to pick up your goods from me later at my place, it’s gonna take some time to roll all of this up.”
The pet name caused her cheeks to burn, and he must have noticed the effect that that had on her because his grin turned deviously large. She managed to stutter out, “Y-yeah, that’d be c-cool.”
“C-cool?” he mocked, eating up her nervousness and having it boost his confidence. “Don’t tell me you're clamming up on me, sweetheart.”
She rolled her eyes, releasing her tension with a breathy chuckle. “Don’t play dumb with me, Munson, you know you’re hot,” she joked, hoping he would drop the subject of her anxiety if she called out the reason for it.
“You think I’m hot?” he asked. His tone had changed from his usual flirtatiousness to actual intrigue. She dropped the cash on the table in front of him, hoping to escape the mess she had created.
“So, where do you live? And when do you want me to meet you there?”
He raised an eyebrow at her, giving her a look that said, So, we’re just gonna skip over what you just admitted? Her unmoving stare answered his question and he moved on, taking her money off of the table and answering her with, “The trailer park. I’m the big silver one. Van outside. You’ll know it when you see it. And... how about nine?”
“Nine’s good,” she uttered, swiftly turning away from the table and taking off in a blushing rush, tucking her hair behind her ears as she power-walked away from the table as fast as she could.
“Alright, see you at nine, princess!” she heard Eddie call from behind.
*~*~*
Nine p.m. had finally rolled around, and she managed to find his trailer in the trailer park. She recognized his van, sweeping her fingers along the side of it as she made her way to his front door. Or, the only door of his trailer.
Admittedly, she had gotten a little dolled up. She didn’t change her outfit, for that would have been way too obvious, but she did add a touch of makeup, just enough to make her eyes pop in the way she likes and make her lip look extra kissable.
Taking in a deep breath, she knocked softly on the door three times. The third knock was cut off by the door swinging open and Eddie’s tall figure stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe.
“Hey there, sweet thing, you come here often?” he flirted, tilting his head to the side and looking her up and down obnoxiously. The exaggeration of his attempt at flirting drew a giggle out of her, rewarding Eddie with a sense of satisfaction at making her laugh.
“Got the goods?” she asked, taking a step towards the door, and he moved out of her way to let her in. She scanned over the piles of cassettes and VHS tapes, noting his abundance of horror movies and metal music, which she had expected. The smell of cigarettes and dust lingered in the air, which she didn’t mind at all. She’d never admit it because of all the medical propaganda her family dumped on her, but she thought it was cool that he smoked cigarettes. She had seen him lighting up a few times before in his van while leaving school, and she just couldn’t deny what seeing that little stick hanging from his lips did to her.
“Yeah, uh, sorry about the mess,” he said, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. She had never seen him be bashful before, and heart did a little leap as she had found it endearing.
“It’s fine, Eddie. I can promise my bedroom is much worse,” she joked, still looking around his trailer. She hadn’t realized it, but he noticed that that was the first time she had ever referred to him as Eddie. To everyone but his club, he was always Munson, always the freak. His heart did a leap too in that moment.
“Oh! I got your goods in here,” he said, dipping away to fetch the baggie of joints he had pre-rolled for her. Damn, he was right. That was a lot of joints. She stared at the bag in awe.
Being in his home must have given her a small sense of confidence, because she proceeded to nervously ask him, “Um... if it’s not too much to ask, would you like to smoke one with me...?”
He stared at her with an indecipherable expression. She couldn’t tell if he was deciding for or against smoking with her, and she broke eye contact and looked down as a nervous habit. She started to backtrack, “Y-you don’t have to, I just—”
“Fuck, yeah. I’d love to.” He dropped a big dimply grin, infecting her with the giggles.
He opened the bag and pulled one of the neatly rolled joints out before zipping it closed and passing it back to her. She put the baggie of joints in her bag quickly, pulling out her own small bright blue handheld lighter. She gave the lighter to Eddie before mentioning, “Don’t forget to give that back, it’s my only lighter.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, princess,” he answered smugly before extending an arm in a silent invitation to sit on the couch, and she obliged. She sank down on the old couch, and it felt more comfortable than her own couch at home. He plopped down next to her hard, rocking her and the couch, before holding the joint out for her to take. “You go first,” he said, tilting his head down to look at her with a devilish grin.
“Gladly,” she said, leaning forward and catching the end of the joint on her lips, taking it from him without using her hands. “Light me up?” she asked through the joint on her lips.
“Gladly,” he returned, using her wording against her. He held the little blue lighter to the end of the joint, flicking the gear and igniting it. She hovered over the flame for a moment before pulling back to breathe it in, puffing on the joint heavily before Eddie swiftly grabbed it from her lips.
The burn in her lungs felt like a warm tingle spreading through the inside of her chest, but it was the burn in her throat that made her cough. She coughed an embarrassing amount, her face and eyes turning red from it. “Hey, it’s supposed to be puff puff pass,” she whined in a manner that conveyed she wasn’t serious, but her mangled voice was what made Eddie laugh.
He gave a dark chuckle before saying, “Like you’d say no to me, sweetheart.” He held her gaze intensely as he hit the joint, taking in a deep puff before letting out a billowing cloud of smoke, blowing the smoke into her face teasingly. She laughed at his gesture, waving away the cloud.
After they had gone back and forth, taking turns of the joint until it was just a roach, she put the roach down on the ashtray on his coffee table. Eddie had some of his music playing as they were both leaning back against the couch, heads staring at the ceiling as they felt the weed kick in.
She began to feel fuzzy, her body feeling so heavy like it was sinking further into the couch. She let out a light stoner laugh as she felt the tingles spread down to her fingertips and toes, feeling her brain swirl around like the room was spinning. The voice of her consciousness sounded out loud, and her speaking voice sounded too quiet like it was in her head. But her absolute favorite part of getting high was the sense that she truly had no other care in the world, just bliss and fuzziness and oversaturated colors. It felt like peace.
“This shit fucks so hard, Eddie,” she said, her brain confused to if she even said those words aloud.
She lazily tilted her head towards him, watching with heavy eyes as he stared at the ceiling. She couldn’t help but stare. It was definitely the weed heightening this thought, but she couldn’t help but notice how pretty he was. His big brown eyes with the long eyelashes, his dimples that suited his cheeks so well, his sharp jaw and strong chin, and oh, those plump, kissable lips.
“Eddie...?” she whispered, pulling his gaze from the ceiling to her.
“Yeah, princess?”
His eyes were so red. She would have laughed if she wasn’t about to say, “Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?”
He laughed slower than usual, so she could tell he was deep in his high like she was. Their conversation felt like it was happening underwater, and his voice tickled her ears as he replied, “Damn it, babe, I was supposed to call you pretty first.”
She felt the laughter bubble in her chest first, slowly erupting from her mouth, her brain feeling disconnected from the process. “Beat you to it. Sucks to suck, Munson.”
His eyes drooped, and he glanced at her lips before looking back into her eyes. “You are, y’know. Pretty.”
She looked away out of habit before giving a huff. “Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious,” he said, turning his body so he was facing her. “I was surprised you even wanted to smoke with me. Hell, I’m surprised you even wanted to buy from me. The cute girl in my Calculus class wanted to buy from me? How did I get so lucky?”
She turned her body so she was facing him, leaning her swirling head against the couch. Her eyeballs felt fuzzy as she looked up at him with doe eyes. “You think I’m the cute girl in class? You dummy, I think you’re the cute boy in class. Why do you think I let you cheat off of my work?”
His eyes stared deeply into hers, and he glanced at her lips briefly again. This time, she returned the favor by glancing at his. She felt her heart racing in her chest, every thump echoed through her body until her extremities felt numb. He placed his large hand on the side of her face, and the coolness of the rings were like a shock to her as he swiped over her lips with his thumb. His touch felt electrifying, as if every nerve cell in her body was magnetized to his skin. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, in the softest tone she had ever heard from his lips.
“You fucking better,” she joked and was immediately pulled in. When their lips met, it felt like fireworks were going off inside of her. Tingles shot up the back of her neck and crept up the base of her skull, capturing her in pure bliss as Eddie’s lips melted into her own. She could taste the weed and hint of cigarettes in his mouth, and she could hear the heavy breathing from his nose against her face. It was all she ever dreamed of, plus some. She had never enjoyed kissing other boys, mushing mouths always felt so awkward and unnatural. But with Eddie, now, all she wanted was to feel the soft fleshy wet mess of tongue against tongue. Her heightened sensations from the weed mixed with her established crush on Eddie had her already giving out soft moans into his mouth, and she could just feel him smile against her mouth in return. She felt his big warm hands place themselves on her waist, and she leaned in further, pressing her chest against his.
She didn’t even feel when her hands had moved to grip his Hellfire Club shirt until he pulled back. “Damn, why have we never done this before?” he said in a deep husky voice.
“Because I get nervous,” she said, feeling the words spill out before she had time to think of a proper response. She looked down and fiddled with the neckline of his shirt before saying, “And because this weed’s got me feeling brave, Eddie.”
“Just how brave are we talking?” he asked, thinking she wouldn’t notice his quick glance down at her body. She did notice. In that moment, her body felt hot to the touch, and then the weed did something it had never done before. Maybe she had just never been horny and high at the same time, but the way the pot in her system sent her body into maximum overdrive at the way Eddie eyed her body had her throbbing hard in her jeans. Her nerves were ablaze everywhere, especially there, and she could just feel her underwear becoming increasingly more damp the longer she stared at him.
“Really brave,” she muttered, unable to speak above a whisper due to the intense craving her body was feeling. He flashed that dimply grin like he knew she couldn’t resist it and moved his hands to cup her face. She let her neck go lax, melting into his touch and letting him hold the weight of her head. His hands felt so hot against her face, and then he leaned in so close that his lips brushed against hers as he spoke.
“You ever fucked a future rockstar?” he inquired, his eyes looking darker and deeper than ever.
A chill ran down her spine at his words, and a let out a shaky exhale before admitting, “I’ve haven’t ever fucked.”
He immediately dropped his charismatic persona, pulling back with a look of concern in his eyes. “I’d offer, but I don’t think it would be right to... deflower you... in such a state...” He began to trail off, but she put a finger to his lips.
“Eddie, right now, I’ve never wanted anything else so god damn bad,” she said, unable to take her eyes off of his perfect plump lips. “Only reason I never have is because I’ve never liked anyone else this much.”
She watched as his lips morphed from a concerned flat line back into that devilish smile she liked to see so much. It infected her, making her smile wide as well, and the tip of her finger felt like it was buzzing as she traced along his smiling lips with her finger. The underwater feeling returned as she leaned up to bring his lips back into a kiss, laying back on the couch and pulling him down with her so that he was laying on top of her and kissing her.
“Damn, you really do get brave when you smoke,” he chuckled, and the deep chuckle rumbled in her ears as she caught his lips again, opening her mouth to invite him into hers. His tongue slid across hers, feeling hot and slimy, and she loved it, returning the gesture. She felt him slowly drop all of his body weight onto hers, and the pressure against her lower abdomen caused her to let out a small gasp into his mouth. He felt her gasp, taking a sense of pride in being the one to make her feel this way and pressed himself against her again, feeling his own excitement start to build.
She spread her knees apart, allowing him to lay between her legs, and he willingly obliged to taking the position, sliding his denim-clad crotch against hers. The friction of him pressing the seam of her jeans into her elicited the smallest moan from her, and Eddie repeated this against but harder, fulling grinding into her as their mouths danced and his clothed erection rubbed against her. Her fingers found their way into his long hair, her nails accidentally scratching against his scalp, making him groan into her mouth. The sounds and feelings that he was giving her welded together in a fuzzy entanglement, making her already spinning head feel like she was on air. She felt his warm hands snake down from her face down to the hem of her shirt, dipping his fingers underneath the fabric to brush against her hot skin. The sudden coldness of the rings made her slightly jump, and he pulled back, worry apparent on his face. His eyes nonverbally asked, Is this too much?
“Sorry, your rings are just cold,” she giggled, before taking the initiative to lift her own shirt over her head, revealing the black bra underneath. Truth be told, after school she had switched into her fancier undergarments in the hopes that something would happen between them. And she was appreciative to her past self for making that decision. He stared in awe at her chest, all pushed together by the tight black bra and looking extra plump in the dim trailer lighting. He took the chance to bury his face in her cleavage, sucking and smacking on the soft flesh, leaving little reddish purple spots in his wake, causing her to moan and lightly buck her hips up. She was already turned on, but now she just felt like an animal in heat, all wet and needy for him. He pulled a nipple out of its bra cup and took it into his mouth, swirling his tongue softly on the hardened bud, and she felt waves of tingles flow through her body, half from the high and half from the pleasure he was bringing her just from sucking on her naked skin. When she had gripped his hair so hard she was worried she’d accidentally yank it out, he grinned against her soft skin, just knowing how he was affecting her untouched body.
“That feel good, princess?” he whispered, releasing her nipple from his mouth, pulling back to look in her eyes. He had never seen her, or anyone, look so desperate and needy. Hell, she would have begged if he told her to. She looked up at him with pleading doe eyes, and he just melted at the sight. “C’mon, baby, use your words.” His deep voice dripped like honey into her ears, and she felt the shift in her core that made her need some friction down there.
She whispered back, “Please keep touching me.”
He chuckled and with a teasing voice said, “Oh, baby, you think that is me touching you? You don’t even know.”
He unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, pulling them down her thighs until she lifted her legs above his head so that he could pull them off of her calves. He threw the jeans on the floor next to her shirt, keeping her legs up with his hands. She didn’t realize she was panting as he slid his hands down her legs, letting them drop on either side of him while he gazed tenderly at her damp panties.
“Already so wet for me, baby? That’s so sweet of you,” he teased, hooking his finger under the wet patch and pulling her underwear to the side. She gawked at him unabashedly as he swiped his fingers up her wet slit, his fingers feeling cold against her heat. She whimpered at the cold sensation, accidentally bucking her hips. The high had left her brain and traveled south, making her body feel abuzz as he rubbed up and down her slit a couple of times, barely grazing the sensitive nub at the top.
“God, you’re so hot,” she heard him say, but her eyes screwed shut at the sensation of her throbbing cunt being touched so gently. When she felt a finger prod her hole, she gasped, letting him know she was very ready to be entered. A thick finger entered her, and she moaned loudly as he pushed his finger all the way in, his thumb still rubbing up and down. He slowly pulled out and pushed back in his finger, choosing to add a second one. The second finger made her feel the slight stretch, and she moaned louder at the sensation. He started pumping his fingers in and out of her, starting a new building sensation in her core. The faster he pumped, the more he bumped that sensitive nub with his thumb, and that feeling inside of her felt like something deep was about to explode. She unashamedly rutted her hips against his hand, letting out more whimpers and moans than she ever had before in her life. And just as she teetered the edge of that sinfully delicious explosion, he stopped completely, pulling his fingers out of her and leaving her a panting, soaking mess.
Her throat hitched, releasing an audible whine, making Eddie laugh. He leaned over her, his painfully hard but fully covered erection hovering over her sopping heat, and said, “Now see, baby, that was me touching you.”
She was speechless and desperate, needing any sort of attention back on her tingling loins. “Will you please fuck me?” she timidly asked, relinquishing any morsel of control she had and completely throwing the ball in his court.
“Of course, princess,” he said with a wink. He paused to sit up and look around the small living room of the trailer before declaring, “But not here.”
“Not here?” she breathed out.
“C’mere, we’re going to my room,” he said, lifting himself quickly off of the couch before turning around to swoop down and suddenly lift her off of the cozy furniture, bridal-style. She reveled in the romance of it all, feeling most definitely like a princess with her handsome knight in shining armor, freely laughing as he carried her to his little room.
Eddie’s bedroom smelled a lot more like weed than his living room, and she could guess where he smoked most of the time. Metal and rock posters lined the walls, and towers of cassettes, books, and VHS tapes littered the floor.
He ducked down to lay her down gently on the bed before yanking his Hellfire club shirt over his head quickly and tossing it on a pile of discarded clothes on the floor. She stared at his bare torso, admiring his tattoos, and he just ate it up. He smiled before dropping himself down on the bed over her. “You ready for more, sweetheart?”
"Yes,” she blurted out with zero hesitation, eagerly nodding and eyeing the tent in his jeans hungrily. He followed her line of sight, smirking to himself when he realized she was staring straight at his boner. He leaned back, looking down to undo his jeans before he shimmied them off, letting the tent in his boxers swing free, before throwing his jeans onto the pile of clothes to join his shirt. He then resumed his place, crawling over her as she laid back on his bed, his clothed erection grazing her legs and then her abdomen as he climbed up her body. Using his forearms to hover over her, she dug her fingers into his hair and pulled him into a steamy kiss. As their mouths meshed together again, he steadily lowered himself so that their half-naked bodies were flush against each other, and she could feel his stiffness nestle right into the crotch of her panties, making her let out a shaky breath.
He slithered his large hands down her body before reaching her underwear, hooking his fingers into the sides before pulling from the kiss to ask, “Can I take these off?”
“Only if you say please,” she joked, mentally slapping herself for choosing this moment to toss in a joke. But, like the good sport he was, Eddie was quick to respond.
“Please, oh please, may I take thy panties off?” he mused back, but looked confounded when he saw her flinch. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re very hot, Eddie, but please don’t use the word panties. It just feels so weird when guys say it.”
“Panties.”
“Eddie, I’m serious. It feels icky.”
“Panties.”
“Dude!”
“Panties!” he yelled, waving his hands in her face and laughing hard at the cringing expression on her face. She couldn’t help but join in his laugh, being able to look at their conversation in a different light, and seeing how ridiculous they sounded.
She sighed, shaking her head in an endeared manner as she said, “Fine. Thou may remove mine panties,” returning the joke of Old English speak.
He gave an exaggerated groan and said, “God, you’d do so well in DnD. That’s so hot.”
“Ist thou removing mine panties, or what?” she asked flatly, hoping to get back on track to their sexual shenanigans.
“Oh! Right, yes,” he said before theatrically yanking down her underwear and tossing them over his shoulder. All of the laughing and giggling stopped when he laid eyes on her sopping cunt. She could just see his erection strain against the thin fabric of his boxers. He pulled them down, letting his boner spring free, and his length slapped against her thigh. She hadn’t expected it, but the boy was hung. She gawked at his long extremity, and he let her, taking pride in her jaw dropping. She looked back up into his eyes and smiled when he asked, “You ready?”
“Mhm,” she mumbled before wrapping her hand around his member, but he put his hand over hers to stop her, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.
“Woah, wait, do we need a condom?” he asked, gingerly stroking his thumb over her hand.
She shook her head, “I’m on the pill, Eddie.”
He grinned in response, before taking the reins to line the tip up to her still-soaking entrance. When he started to push in, she felt the swirling feeling coming back to her head, and she couldn’t tell if she was still so high or if this was a new feeling, being already cock-drunk on Eddie. The stretch of him felt sharp for a moment, but she felt too blissful to react to it, pulling his head down to attach her lips to his once more. Their mouths hung open against each other’s as he fully sheathed himself in her, and this time she did let a small whimper of pain escape. Her pain immediately dissolved into pleasure as she adjusted to his size.
When he began to move inside of her, starting slow as he pulled out and pushed back in ever so gently, she was still a moaning mess, moaning against his open mouth.
“That feel good, baby?” he asked, and his words had never felt so sugary sweet. All she could do was moan in response, her moan raising in pitch as it caught in her throat. He broke their kiss to watch her face, her expression conveying euphoria as he slid in and out of her. Her tight walls felt so good on his cock; he would have finished then and there if he wasn’t so focused on her. He snuck a hand down between their bodies, searching for her sensitive little nub, and once he found it and began drawing small circles around it with his finger, she could feel that building sensation return. And he could tell from her moans getting progressively louder. He wanted her first time to be everything she could have wished for, so he started to pick up his pace and thrusted harder and faster into her, keeping his finger steady on her clit.
Sparks were shooting through her body, centered around her lower abdomen, and she wrapped her legs around Eddie to keep him closer, even though she knew he wasn’t going anywhere. The steady circling around her clit became sloppy as he let himself pound into her hard, and she felt his member reach impossible depths inside of her. The faster and harder pace of his cock sliding in and out of her, stretching her from the inside out, had her digging her nails hard into Eddie’s shoulder blades as she felt her hips begin to chase that tension building in her. She let herself get lost in the pleasure of it all, the tingles in her brain all the way down to her fingers and toes mixed with the waves of pleasure coming from her abdomen had her toes curling and her eyes squeezed shut. She felt her walls begin to squeeze tighter as the tension inside of her began to reach its peak, like a string about to snap.
She suddenly felt her face being grabbed by a strong hand, her jaw entirely encapsulated. “Look at me,” his voice demanded, and she opened her eyes pitifully, giving him the eye contact he wanted. Eddie had always been so silly, such a tease. It was shocking yet so deeply arousing to hear such sternness in his voice. “I wanna see it in your face when I make you come.”
“Eddie,” she whimpered, “I think I’m gonna—”
“I know, baby, I can feel it. Be a good girl and come for me.”
And with his words, that string inside of her snapped, and she let out a squealing moan as she experienced her orgasm in waves, feeling her walls pulsate and stretch over his cock while her body went completely lax. He continued to pound through it all, letting out aggressive grunts as he thrusted through the clenching of her walls, giving her continuous echoes of her orgasm until his pace stuttered. He released a gentle moan with his own release, prolonging it with extra pushes into her until he felt his own hot liquid seep out of her tight hole that was clenched around his member. He pulled out slowly, and she whined at the sudden emptiness inside of her.
“God damn,” he huffed with a tired smile before dropping his body onto hers, burying his face in her naked chest. She giggled at this, playing with his hair and scratching her nails over his scalp.
They stayed like that for a good long moment, basking in their post-coital bliss, until she noticed the clock next his bed. She read the time with a gasp. “Oh my god, it’s like three in the morning! Shit, I gotta get home.”
They climbed out of Eddie’s bed reluctantly, gathering their clothes from his bedroom floor and from the living room floor. They hadn’t spoken a word yet, both too nervous to wreck the good thing they had going, until Eddie couldn’t take the tension anymore. “Okay, so... I guess I’ll see you on Monday?” he asked, not sure of what to say but wanting to desperately to beg to spend more time with her.
“Yeah,” she shrugged, before pausing a long moment to suggest, “or we could hang out like tomorrow, or technically later today... Uh, if you’re not busy...”
He absolutely beamed at her words. She did want to spend more time with him. He felt excitement blossom in his chest as their little situation felt like the beginning of something special. “Tomorrow—er, later today—would be awesome.”
She let out a nervous, breathy chuckle. “Cool.”
“Cool,” he repeated back to her. They fell into silence again, but it was comfortable silence this time.
“I, uh,” she began, gesturing to the door.
“Oh! Yes, of course,” he said, stepping out of her way and opening the door for her. When he opened the door, the cold night air hit her like a ton of bricks and she shivered, regretting leaving her sweater in class earlier that day.
He witnessed her slight shiver, instantly saying, “Wait right here,” before dipping away to grab something from his bedroom. He came back with his iconic denim and leather jacket, offering it to her. “It’s really cold out tonight,” he shrugged, like giving her his jacket was no big deal.
“I can’t take your jacket,” she said, attempting to politely decline.
He hung it on her shoulders and said, “Well, you can give it back later,” both as a way to make her more comfortable but also as a way to express that he hopes she sticks to their plans.
“Okay,” she breathed, “and you’ll have to give back my lighter.”
And with that, she was on her way home with plans to see Eddie tomorrow.
*~*~*
A/N: my first Eddie fic !!! Part of me wants to do a part 2 so bad, but pls let me know how u feel about it omg <3 lov u guys
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2nd choice, but 1st place
a/n: okay I was very inspired for that I don't know why. And it should be my last last football (soccer) fic at leat until the world cup
*not my GIF*
Pairing: VfL Wolfsburg (frauen) x Putellas!Reader; Alexia Putellas x sister!Reader; (hint of Lena Oberdorf x Reader)
Summary: You need to prove that you're notjust La Reina's little sister.
Type: Fluff
Warning: nothing
word count: 5433 (i was inspired sorry)
note:
(///////) means change POV to TV pov (I tried something very new)
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Dreams are made to come true, they say. Yours just started when you signed your first professional contract for Barcelona. You were nervous, but you were not alone; there was your sister, the great Alexia Putellas, and the one who will become your best friend, Ona Batlle. But your debut was not really like you expected; according to your previous coach, you were too much like your big sister, and the club decided to send you on loan to Levante.
You shouldn’t be angry by their decision, but you got more play time there, and you were with Ona, at least until she joined the WSL. The defender tried to convince you to go with her and maybe play with her in Manchester, but you declined. You were really happy with your new club, and they even decided to keep you after the left back left.
But fortunately or unfortunately for you, Barcelona wanted you back after their Champions League final win against Chelsea. At first, you thought that they finally found an interest in you, but you learned late that it was more of a way for them to be sure you didn’t sign with the rival, Real Madrid.
At the end of the 2022 season, you received some calls from a lot of clubs who were ready to sign you next summer. Honestly, you didn’t know how they could recruit a bench player, but two clubs caught your attention: Manchester United and VfL Wolfsburg. When you talk about it with your sister, it’s unnecessary to say she wasn’t really happy with it.
You were with the team celebrating the three trophies won this season. You talked a little with Ingrid and Fridolina; you three grew up close because they joined the club with you. After they gave you some advice, you decided to pull your sister away from the girls to announce your decision.
"But why?" Alexia asked, and you rolled your eyes.
"Do you really need to ask?" You were not really shocked by the fact that she seemed oblivious to your situation; every time you played together, she looked as happy as when you were both children and you were trying to reach her level. But there is the problem: you were not that little kid anymore, and you definitely didn’t want to reach her level like you did in the past. "Listen, I already talked with the coach and everyone. Ingrid and Frido said that Wolfsburg is a great team to improve myself so I think I can try."
"But why? Is it because we lost in the Champions League? I’m angry too, but don’t worry; we will do it next year, I promise." She said, and you sighed.
"No, it’s not—" you groaned. "I mean, yes, I’m angry that we lost, but it’s not because of that."
"So what is it? I thought you wanted to win the Champions League together. I thought you wanted to show the world how incredible the Putellas sisters are." She said, and gave you a nudge.
"I want; I really want, but look at us. You won the freaking Ballon d'Or; you're the captain of the team and the national team. Don’t get me wrong, I’m really proud of you; nobody deserved it more than you. But look at me; I struggle to make my way on this team. Until I’m still in your shadow, I could never reach your level; it’s not your fault, but it’s just that no team needs two of the same players." You explained, and your sister stayed there, processing everything you said.
"I didn’t know," she said. You wrapped your arm around her shoulders and gave her a weak smile. "I’m sorry," she said with tears in her eyes.
"Hey, it’s okay; it’s not your fault; it’s just that you started to create your own legend here, and it’s a good thing, but if I want to improve my skill, I need to leave." You said, and she hugged you.
======
The final whistle echoed in the stadium; it's over; Spain lost against England and was out of the Euro 2022. It took you a moment to realize what that meant. The coach called you just before the first match to let you know you'd replace your sister because she got injured just before the competition, and now you were angry and disappointed because you didn't qualify your team for the next round.
You were sitting on the pitch with your head in your hands when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned your head to meet Ona's eyes. She was trying to restrain her tears, but you knew her better than anyone else. You didn't say anything; you just stood up and pulled her into a tight hug before your teammates came a few seconds later.
After a little while, you went to congratulate the winners with a sad smile, and you could see some English players were truly sorry for you. Leah came and hugged you while you tried not to fall apart on her shoulder. "I'm sure she's proud of you." She whispered to you, and you nodded. When you broke the hug and looked at the crowd, you saw her. Alexia was there, visibly sad, but she gave you a smile to reassure you and let you know that she's proud of your match even if Spain didn't win.
Later that night, you were with Ona, packing your things, when Alexia knocked on the door. The defender took a moment to analyze and make sure you were okay before she left you two alone.
"You did great." Alexia said, and you hummed, not really looking at her to avoid a possible deception on her face. She grabbed your hand, and you finally looked at her "I'm serious, you were the best player today."
"Yeah, but that was not enough to win." You replied, and she sighed. She knew why you were acting like that, why this defeat seemed more important to you than anyone else, and secretly she couldn't help but blame herself for something she couldn't change.
"This shot in the second half was extremely precise, and if their captain didn't touch the ball, I'm sure you would score." She added and rubbed your cheeks with her hand. You lowered your head to look at her leg and the clutches she carried with her everywhere.
"How is your knee?" You changed the subject; you were definitely not ready to talk about it right now.
"It will be hard, but I should be back before the end of the next season." She said, and sat on the bed where your suitcase was while you continued to fulfill it. There was silence until your sister spoke again. "You know, we'll miss you." She said it with a sad smile.
"I know, but it's not like I'll change continents or anything. We will stay in the same time zone, and if you're good without me, we will face each other in the Champion's League." You joked, and she gently pushed you.
You spent the rest of your summer with your family before being called to Germany. In the airport, your mom and Alexia were making sure you hadn't forgotten anything, while Alba and you just rolled your eyes at them. When they called your flight, you gave them a last group hug, cautiously avoiding touching your sister's knee.
To your surprise, everything fit perfectly; your new teammates were really happy to have a new face, and the coach seemed to really trust you. Due to your position on the field, you didn't start every match, but it was definitely enough to grow some ties with your teammates and one in particular, Lena Oberdorf.
You were used to playing behind your sister in Barcelona, so of course you didn't mind playing defensive midfielder beside her, and it was definitely a game changer to have both of you on the pitch. The Bundesliga seemed too small for you two; rare were the strikers who were able to pass you and the German.
You definitely shined during the group stage of the Champions League, when everyone was prepared to stop Poppy or Pajor; they didn't know you were able to play as N°10, and every goalkeeper was shocked to see you so close to their penalty areas.
Because of your perfect performance on the group stage, Lena started to call you Prinzessin, or princess in German, because of Alexia's nickname. You found it funny and started to call her your knight because she always cleaned up after you every time you lost a dual.
Everything couldn't be better; you were one of the best scorers in the Bundesliga and definitely the one with more assists. While you were eliminating the PSG, your best friend was becoming the best left back in the WSL, and your sister started to work out to prepare for her comeback.
======
At the press conference before your first leg at home against Arsenal, a journalist asked something funny to Tommy Stroot: "What can you say about the transformation of Y/n?"
"What?" Your coach asked back.
"I mean, it's not the end of the season, and she already beat her record from the two past seasons. She was involved in four goals in the semifinal of the DFB-Pokal against Bayern. So, I'm asking if you know something about her transformation on the pitch."
There was a little silence; the response seemed so obvious that the coach couldn't even believe he asked him that. "I don't know if it's really a transformation; when she trained with us for the first time, she beat my expectations. I don't think we did something to her; maybe she just needed some confidence and play time. She's a young player, and it's the most important thing."
"Talking about play time, she got injured in the last match; do you think she'll get back in time for the match tomorrow?" Another journalist asked.
No, definitely not, but she works hard on her side to be available for the match in London, so I'm not worried." After a few rounds of questions, the conference ended.
To your surprise, the first leg ended in a draw. You were frustrated not only because you couldn't play but also because you knew you had to win the next match. In London, things were a little different; the Gunners were favorites, of course, but the atmosphere was almost suffocating, and things didn't go better when Stina scored the first goal. You were on the bench for this match; you were ready to play, but your coach wanted to use you as a super sub, and this man rarely gets it wrong.
At the end of full time, the score was 4-4 in aggregate, so that meant overtime, and overtime meant super sub. You just need 15 minutes to install fear in your opponent's mind. You barely lost a ball, and even when it happened, Lena always had your back. And in the next fifteen minutes, you did what you did best this season: assisted Bremer eight minutes before the end and qualified Wolfsburg for another final in their history, and more than that, because it will be against Barcelona.
Until then, you win the dfb-Pokal without surprise, and you place yourself as the second-best scorer of the season in the Bundesliga. At the end of the season, everyone's eyes were locked on one thing.
The day before the final, you were in your hotel room in Eindhoven talking with some teammates who had invited themselves into your room when you received a text from Ona.
Ona: good luck for tomorrow, Princesa. I come with Leila and Laia
You: you come to see me or the girls? 🤔
Ona: everyone
You: okay but I need to tell you that we will win tomorrow, so prepare the girls to comfort them
Ona: I don't come here to see my best friend lose
You: don't worry, you'll not
You: I need to go. the girls need me to annoy the older. see you tomorrow. I'll let you touch the trophy 😜
Ona: yeah sure 🙄
======
On D-Day, the pressure was at its highest level; the fans were expecting a victory, and you, the players, would do anything for that. In the changing rooms, everyone was tense after the lecture from your coach. You started your little routine before any big games to focus until you saw Lena beside you, totally nervous.
"Hey Lee, are you okay?" You asked after you gently paused your hand on her tight. She looked at your hand before locking her gaze on yours.
"I don't know. I mean, it's a big game, like, THE big game of the season." She said, and you chuckled. You found her very cute when she was stressed, but she didn't need to know that, at least not yet.
"Yes, but you played a big finale last summer, remember?" You asked.
"And I lost." She replied.
"Okay, that's not what I was expecting." You admitted; you sighed and gently cupped her face with your hands, forcing her to look at you. "Listen, I know it's a big game. I know how terrifying it is to face a team like that, but you're not alone. There's all the team to help you in the first half, and I'll be there in the second, whatever happens." You said quietly, and she chuckled, leaving you confused.
"I was more stressed about making your ex-teammates cry because we would crush them, but I think your little speech helped me too." She joked, and you rolled your eyes, even if that made you laugh too.
"Okay now, enter that pitch and show them what my knight in shining armor can do." You said, and all the girls cheered you up.
///////
"Good afternoon, everyone, I'm Dave, and I'll be your commentator for this final of the Champions League. I'm not alone; I'm with Selena, our consultant for this match. Good afternoon, how are you?"
"Pretty good, thanks, Dave. And yeah, we're here today for THE most important match of the season, one of the most equilibrated matches of this Champions League journey, at least on paper."
"Yes, on paper, the match would be beautiful to see, but we need to remind ourselves that FC Barcelona start this match with a little advantage. They were declared champions a few weeks before the end of the season, so they could rotate their squad and rest their players for this final."
"Of course, it will be a great advantage, but we saw how Wolfsburg can be really dangerous when we're not ready. I don't think Alexia and her teammates will take it easy; I think the defeat of the last year is still in everyone's memories."
"Talking about Alexia and her teammates, the players should enter the pitch in an instant now." The players started to walk out of the tunnel, and everyone was focused on one thing: the victory. You were on the bench watching your first team against your provisory team.
The anthem of the Champions League was playing on the speaker of the Phillips Stadion; the supporters started to be impatient, and you were more nervous.
"I will never get used to this tension just before the kickoff."
"I totally understand you; it never misses to give me goosebumps. I was watching the composition of the two teams, and I'm a little shocked to see Y/n in the starting eleven. What do you think about it?"
"It's a surprise, but not as big as anyone thinks. We know that Tommy Stroot likes to use her as a super sub, and it's technically those types of matches where anything could happen that you need someone like her."
"Her big sister doesn't start either, but it's not really a surprise, so I think I'm talking for everyone when I say that we are really excited to see the both of them on the pitch. And now the kickoff."
—------------
Surprisingly, after the kickoff, the advantage was clearly for the German team.
"The Spanish seem to struggle to keep the ball out of their side of the pitch."
"Yes, but we know they can reverse this; we just need to—"
"Oh no, big mistake from Bronze. Pajor can shoot, and- she didn't miss! Wolfsburg take the lead with a missile from their Polish striker."
"I was saying that they can reverse, but this didn't go well, haha."
"It's not your fault; nobody can predict that Lucy Bronze would leave a little place for Pajor to shoot. But only after fifteen minutes, the teammates of Alexandra Popp can dream to lift the prestigious trophy."
—------
"—she's doing one of her best performances today, but– but right now the Catalans recuperate the ball! Graham Hansen is alone by her side. Oh, what a great move to push the ball in front of the goals; she can shoot—no, she passes, why she—"
After only fifteen minutes, everything needed to be redone.
"It's Patri!! After only fifteen minutes, ladies and gentlemen, Patri scored the equalizer!"
"That was the best way to finish this action, Dave. What a great goal and great performance from the Spaniard since the Germans took the lead! The solution didn't come from the strikers, so she just decided to take it into her own hands. 1-1, the real game starts now."
"You said it, Selena; she had the lucidity to stay away from any defender, and the finish is just amazing."
You and the girls were gutted; you didn't plan to win this game with a big goal difference, so any goal against you is barely a synonym of defeat. The real nightmare started only five minutes before halftime.
"A corner kick for Barcelona. It's shot very well, and—it's Rolfö! The Swedish give the advantage to the Spaniard only five minutes before halftime! What a goal!"
"Like you said, Dave, what a goal from Fridolina Rolfö. She used to score beautiful headers, and that's why corner kicks are one of the most dangerous weapons on this team. She just freed her from any defender and easily put it in the back of the net."
"You can see the joy erupting from Barcelona's bench; the supporters are uncontrollable, and it's totally understandable. The Swedish player may have just secured the victory with this goal."
In the next five minutes, your teammates pushed but failed to score against a visibly blessed Paños.
"And the referee blew the whistle; it's halftime, ladies and gentlemen. We will remind you of the score for the one who just joined. There is a 2-1 lead for Barcelona. Pajor scored the first goal of the game, but only fifteen minutes later, Patri equalized, and Rolfö gave them the advantage a few minutes ago."
///////
Back in the changing room at halftime, your teammates looked defeated, and after another lecture from your coach, the room was pretty quiet. The girls seemed to be trying to focus on the second half. Lena rested her head on your shoulder, and you intertwined your fingers with hers.
"Okay girls, you heard me out." Alexandra started to speak and gained everyone's attention. She gave a pretty encouraging speech. During this time, you were rubbing your thumb on the back of Lena's hand.
After the speech, when it was time to go, you unconsciously kissed the defender's hand and made her blush, but you were totally oblivious. "I believe in you; I know you'll be better in this half." You whispered to her, and she squeezed your hand.
///////
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back. We're here for the second half of this final of the Champions League, opposing Barcelona to Wolfsburg, and the Spaniard took the lead just before halftime." The two teams were going back on the pitch with a little change in the Spaniard's side.
"We were just talking about her before during the halftime, and Jonatan seemed to have heard you." You were one of the last ones to come out of the tunnel, and you were a little surprised to hear the Barcelona fan chanting your sister’s name, but you were more surprised to see her ready to start the end of the match. "No, you’re not dreaming Alexia Putellas will play her first minutes in this campaign! Now the question is how Wolfsburg will react to this."
It was not surprising that the Spaniard took the advantage at the start of the second half, and things went worse when what everyone expected happened.
"Bonmati for a cross in the box, the defense struggles to kick the ball out. Alexia recuperates the ball; she places herself and aims, and—it's a goal! Barcelona is now leading by two goals!"
The joy erupted from the benches of the previous finalists. All the Spanish supporters were screaming; it was almost done. Almost because it was only the fiftieth minute, they had to conceive the score for forty minutes, and your coach was about to make his biggest move.
Your teammates were about to start the end of the game until the referee blew the whistle for a sub.
"Things are going to be more exciting now. The coach of Wolfsburg just made his super sub, Roord, let her place to Y/n." As a reminder of the start of this second half, all the German fans were chanting your name when you entered the field. You found your position beside your defensive midfielder, and the match started again.
"I have an interesting statistic for you, Dave. Wolfsburg only lost three games this season when they aligned their duo Lena-Y/n. And what is most incredible is that Y/n is a former offensive midfielder, but she didn't struggle to play a little lower on the pitch. She's very versatile."
Yeah, it's very incredible, but you know what is very unbelievable?"
"No what?"
Is it that since they became pro, the Putellas sisters have played more against each other than with each other."
"Wait what?"
"Yeah, Y/n played for Levante until the last season, but she played only four games with her big sister on the pitch in Barcelona."
"It's quite funny because when we saw them playing together, it was almost like they had done it all their lives."
"Yeah, but I see almost the same result this season between Lena and Y/n, like now."
You recovered the ball, dribbled Aitana, and passed to Lena before being stopped by Keira. The German gave it back to you just perfectly in front of the penalty, and that led to you shooting and hitting the crossbar.
"She was so close to scoring only after five minutes of her appearance in this match."
"I think Tommy Stroot made a great choice to sub her on now; like we said earlier, even if she played alongside Oberdorf, she's a former offensive midfielder, which means that she can contribute to the offensive task. But she also gives hope to the team and their supporters; I think it's important too."
A few minutes later, Lena recovered the ball pretty high on the pitch and gave it to Sveindis, who made an incredible run, followed by Rolfö, but managed to cross it in the box, where you pushed it into the net with a big header.
"Ooh, what a goal! Y/n just scored a beautiful header, reducing the gap between the two teams."
"I wanted to say that the defense was too chill, but her placement was just perfect. She was quicker than anyone on this action, and I think it's not too bad to say she's quicker than anyone since she's here. She scored a striker's goal."
After thanking the Icelander and hugging some teammates, you were ready for the rest of the game. The game was more tense. The Barcelona players pushed really hard, but you were almost suffocating all their actions with Lena. Talking about action, your team just got one after a great save from Frohms, who kicked the ball far away. You controlled it and looked around to find yourself almost alone on the right side of the pitch, which means if you want to find a way to be in a good position to shoot, you have to use your left foot.
Alexia knew that; she was the one who praised you when you became more skilled than her, and what helped you was your ability to use both feet almost perfectly. Patri otherwise seemed to forget that because she was surprised when she got nutmegged; Rolfö just behind her tried to surprise you, but she got crocheted. You were running to the box, and when Mapi came to stop you, you noticed Popp alone was not offside yet, so you just lobbed the defender, and your captain controlled it perfectly. And she didn't miss her 1v1 with Paños.
"And Alexandra Popp for the equalizer!"
"What beautiful action from Y/n. She totally danced with her ex-teammates; she reached another level in this final."
You wanted to apologize to Patri, but you were stopped by the tall body of your captain, who pulled you into a tight hug. You laughed when she let you go, but not before she messed up with your hair like she had loved to do since the start of the season.
"I think we can say that Y/n is literally the definition of a supersub. She's implied in the two goals that helped Wolfsburg come back in this match. And from her expression, we can think it's not finished yet."
The German fans were chanting your name like you had been in this club for a few seasons now. That made you blush, and you made a heart with your hand to show them your love before the next and hopefully last quarter of the match.
Your sister and her teammates were more nervous and reckless in the last minutes, maybe because of the stress that led to some ugly tackles, which almost made you feel nostalgic about your matches against Georgia Stanway.
"The fourth referee announced 5 minutes of extra time. If Wolfsburg continue like that, maybe they could win in overtime like against Arsenal."
Only five minutes of extra time, despite all the fouls, was a miracle. Barcelona's players were more aware of you, and sometimes you were almost never marked by only one player. But you found a little breach where you forced your passage, and you found yourself trying to keep the ball from your sister and Ingrid. You wanted to pass, but they blocked every angle, so you took some steps back and decided to do it quickly.
You easily erased your sister with a dribble on her wrong side, and the Norwegian received your fourth nutmeg of the match. You wanted to pass to Pajor when you felt something collide against your foot, and you fell to the ground.
"Ouch, it's a pretty bad tackle from Mapi Leon."
///////
You were on the ground with your ankle between your hands, trying to ease the pain, when you heard multiple voices arguing.
"Hey, are you crazy?" You recognized Poppi’s voice.
"I didn’t do that on purpose, okay?" Mapi replied.
Lena quickly came to you and tried to distract you while your sister tried not to let your captain hurt her best friend. "Hey, do you hear me?" she asked, and you nodded. "Okay, good. The medics should come in a few seconds. Do you think you can continue the match?"
"Yes, of course." You spoke through the pain, and she nodded. Like she said, the medics came a little after; it was not serious, but it was not a good move from your national teammate. After the approval of the medic, you prepare yourself for the free kick.
A foul in front of the box, not so far, a little on the right side. Svenja took the ball, placed it, and looked at the players in the penalty area. You were still beside her, lightly testing your foot.
///////
"It seems that Y/n and Svenja Huth are talking about who’ll shoot this free kick. It can be the last action of the match. Who should shoot it for you, Selena?"
"Oh, it’s a tough question. We know Svenja can find a teammate in this situation; she took all the free kicks like always, and she was good like always. But, even if the last time she took a free kick was in her time at Levante, Y/n have pretty good statistics on this exercise."
///////
You took two steps back and a step to the left, took a deep breath, and focused on the goal. The referee blew the whistle. Alexia met your gaze; she knew. Svenja raised her left hand to indicate the near post. She started to run but stopped herself in front of the ball. She just took a step to the right, and you made your way to shoot.
Your feet hit the ball, and you saw it fly toward the goal in the opposite upper corner.
///////
"Y/n took the free kick and—she scored! In the last minute of this final, Y/n gave the victory against her former club! It’s totally unbelievable!"
"You say it, Dave! I thought Svenja would shoot it, but she let the young Spaniard, and for her first free kick with the wolves, Y/n just scored a beautiful one! She perfectly hit the opposite corner; Sandra Paños didn’t see it coming. This final is incredible, and this player is incredible. And the referee just blew the end of the match."
"They did it! Wolfsburg are Champions again for the third time in their history!"
///////
All the bench ran to you; you couldn’t process what was happening until you felt yourself being tackled on the ground by Lena, quickly followed by the rest of the team. You did it; you won your first Champions League. The tears started to run down your cheeks, and you wrapped your arms around the defensive midfielder.
"We did it," she said to you, and you nodded. She brushed away your tears and discreetly kissed your cheek.
You wanted to celebrate more, but you noticed your national teammates’ faces. You went to console a lot of them when you spotted Fridolina and Ingrid with Mapi and Alexia. The ex-Wolfsburg players noticed you first and were the first to hug you and congratulate you.
"We told you it'd be a good team for you." The Swedish said, and some tears started to fill your eyes.
"Hey, don't cry. It's okay." The Norwegian said this time, and you just gave her a sob as a response. They broke the little group hug when Mapi came closer to you.
The defender was the next to catch you between her arms. "I'm sorry for earlier." She and you shook your head to let her know that you weren't angry about that. Congratulations, hermanita." she continued.
"Thank you," you replied shyly. The girls patted your shoulders and left to see the rest of the team. It was just you and your sister now. She was crying, of course, and that made you cry too. When she noticed your tears, she just opened her arms wide, and you filled the space.
"You did it," your sister said, and you nodded against her shoulder. "I'm proud of you." She pulled away to look at you. "I meant it; you were the best player today."
"I'm sorry." You said while you were crying, but the captain immediately shushed you and pulled you into another hug.
Hey, no, don't be sorry. It's okay; we lost, and it's frustrating, but you deserve it. Listen," she pulled away from the hug and pointing to the supporters around you. Even some of Barca’s fans were chanting your name. "You proved everyone that you’re more than my little sister; you start to create your own history." You wanted to say something, but you were required to do an interview.
After that, the final ceremony started. You were a little surprised to be the player of the match, but Lena kept saying that it couldn't be anyone except you. While you were talking with the midfielder, Alexandra was talking with your sister. Their conversation was a little interrupted when they saw you chase the German with a big smile.
"Do you think I need to say something?" the Spanish captain asked.
"Not yet," the tall captain replied, and your sister nodded.
This third June, despite what everyone thought before this final, you led the Germans to number one in Europe. Your dreams came true.
#woso x reader#woso fanfics#alexia putellas#alexia putellas x reader#lena oberdorf#lena oberdorf x reader#vfl wolfsburg frauen#vfl wolfsburg women#vfl wolfsburg women x reader
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It Ain't Me Babe
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
Author’s note: A holiday present from me to you ❣️
Summary: Ellie’s first art club meeting [2.8k]
Warnings: creative insecurity, mentions of financial instability, teacher things, Ellie talking about Sarah, more flirty flirt, I think that’s it??
Nothing has ever been as annoying or guilt-inducing as an unfinished piece of art. Sure, every artist— no matter the medium— has felt like an uncreative, unoriginal hack, but it still feels just as new as it did the first time. Moonlight streams through your window as you glare at the canvas, hoping for an idea or stroke of genius. It's late. You should be in bed, especially since it's a Sunday night and you spent your weekend working at the bar down the street. But you're holding a paintbrush between stained fingers and praying for a miracle. It's been eight months since you last sold a piece for a whopping $200, chump change when it comes to living in Austin these days. Even with two jobs and doing commission work, you're living paycheck to paycheck. Maybe that's why it's so hard to create? That has to be the reason. You don't remember it being this hard when you were younger.
Creating art was the only thing that brought you solace during your teenage years. It didn't matter if it was drawing, pottery, painting, sculpting. All that mattered was that you were doing it and you were good. You won awards, scholarships, and attention. Your art teacher, Ms. Henry, was a godsend. Grey-haired, glasses-wearing, colorful Ms. Henry glided through lessons and projects like it was second nature. She always had pencils in her hair, a mug in her hands, and a kind word on her lips when you entered her classroom. She's the one who pushed you to go to your artsy liberal arts college full of people richer and better than you. Even with her love and support, you struggled and almost dropped out after that first semester.
"There's always someone better," she told you when you ended up crying across from her in a coffee shop. "But there's nobody in the world who can make what you will because there is and never will be another you. I mean, God, what a gift. I'd hate to see you waste it." That sobered you enough to keep going and eventually pursue a teaching certification. Ms. Henry has since retired to the Pacific Northwest with her wife, Mable, and sends you a postcard every once in a while because she believes smartphones will be the downfall of civilization. After so many years in education, you're ready to agree with her.
You sigh, feeling your motivation fluttering away with your breath, and plop your paintbrush down in the cup engraved with the words "DO NOT DRINK" in bold. The canvas doesn't look like much of anything right now— just a mass of colors and shapes that could potentially pass as an abstract version of a landscape. It looks like the other painting you left at the school to work on when you have time. And the painting before that. And the one before that. You curse at exactly the same time your phone buzzes with a text.
You awake?
You don't bother responding and go straight to FaceTiming her. She picks up on the second ring, her beautiful, round face greeting you with a smile. You met Andie during high school, and her effortlessly cool attitude and bulky violin kit quickly became a part of your heart. You two were inseparable all four years of high school, dividing your time between rehearsals and time spent in the studio, but college took you to art school and her to a prestigious orchestra program in Vienna. She's been there ever since graduation, playing for diplomats and royals alike, but she comes home for holidays, and you've been trying to save money to go see her. Being so far from her is hard, but you make it work.
"Why are you awake?" You ask by way of a greeting, more than accustomed to your seven-hour time difference and her early riser habits. She laughs, and you hear a tea kettle whistle in the background.
"Well, hello to you, too," she says. "I have rehearsals all day today, so I got an early start. Why are you awake?"
"I'm staring at my waking nightmare."
"Oh, God, are you having another spiral?"
"I'm a hack."
"You're an artist."
"I got rejected again this weekend," you say as if to prove your point, and she sucks her teeth. "They said my art didn't fit their vision for their exhibition, but to feel free and submit another time."
"Well, they must not know great art when they see it. There will be another exhibition and another chance for you to show off your amazing skills. And when you get accepted, which I know you will, I'll fly in, and we'll drink fancy champagne and talk shit the entire opening night." She says, and you sigh. Her persistent optimism is one of the things you love about her, but sometimes, all you want to do is sulk.
"Or I could fly to you when your first composition gets performed, and we could do all those things in Austria instead of this shithole."
"Hey, some of us like that shithole."
"Some of us haven't lived in the shithole in ten years."
"Touche," she concedes. "But I'm serious about what I said. You're a good artist, just going through a little bump in the road. One day, we'll be really sexy and successful, and we'll look back at this and laugh with our rich spouses while drinking expensive wine."
"One day," you say, smiling. "How are rehearsals going?" She groans at the question, and you laugh. Whenever you talk to her, she's working on a new show or with a new conductor and always has something to say. There are many things you could call your best friend, but lazy is not one of them.
"I feel like we're stuck on this one part, but the conductor won't listen to me. He says he knows better than I do, which might be true, but also, if he just listened to me, then we can move on. I don't know. I'm sure if I poke him enough, he'll have to listen to me."
"Sounds reasonable."
"That's what I'm saying," she says as she shuffles her coffee mug and breakfast to her dining room table before checking the time. "It's midnight there. Don't you have school tomorrow?" She asks, and you sigh.
"And an early morning staff meeting and art club after school."
"Sometimes, I worry about your mental health." She says, and you laugh a little too deliriously to prove her wrong. You stay up talking with her for a while before finally getting hit with a wave of fatigue and crashing into bed.
The next day is not any less hectic than your weekend was. The staff meeting early in the morning is mind-numbing and completely unnecessary. The printer in the teacher's lounge breaks halfway through a heavy-duty print job, and you're left scrambling for new activities and lessons. Not only that, but your students were more out of control than usual, prompting a veteran teacher to come in and scold your class on your behalf. It would be kind if it didn't make you feel two inches tall and your students didn't look at you like you betrayed them. You spend your planning period indulging in the silence of your empty classroom and fighting off a migraine.
The second the final bell sounds, your art club kids are knocking down your door, more than ready to work on their projects for the winter showcase. The winter showcase is hosted by a local art gallery that opens for submissions from students every fall. If a student's work is taken, it gets shown in the gallery, and they get entered into a prize to win money and a chance to paint a mural downtown. It's a big deal. So far, you haven't had a student win first place, but you've had them get very close. You always assure them you're proud of them no matter what, which is especially true when Ellie slinks into your classroom with a shy smile.
"Hey! We're just setting up supplies to work on stuff for the showcase. Do you have something to work on?" You ask, gesturing to the students working around the room in a buzz.
"I think so. Are you gonna play music?"
"Who do you think I am?" You make a face, and she laughs. "Why don't you find a spot and get comfortable while I queue up a playlist?" She hesitates for a second before she takes a deep breath and musters up the courage to approach another student to ask if she can sit with them. They start chatting easily, and her shoulders relax as she gets more and more comfortable with all the new people. You put on a random playlist and move around the room to answer any questions about colors or give an opinion when asked for one. Over the course of an hour, Ellie makes her own little group of friends, and they all talk as if they've known each other forever as they work. She seems so in her own element, and you can't fight the pride beaming in your chest. Okay, so maybe your job can be pretty cool sometimes. Not fame and fortune cool or traveling overseas cool, but cool nevertheless.
Students gradually start packing up their things and leaving when they get texts from impatient parents in the parking lot or close to dinner time, but Ellie stays behind, bobbing her head to a beat or bouncing her knee under the table. She's the only one left in the classroom when you start packing your stuff and preparing the room for the next day. "You've got a ride home, honey?" You ask, and she glances nervously between you and her phone.
"Yeah. My dad should be here soon." She says.
"Alright, well, I've gotta lock up here, but I'll wait outside with you until he gets here."
"Oh, you don't have to do that."
"It'd make me feel better knowing you weren't left behind. Plus, I'm the adult responsible for you until he picks you up, so it's kinda illegal for me to just leave you here." You say, and she looks hesitant again but nods. Together, you walk out of the classroom and through the empty hallways until you get out to the scorching September afternoon. You stand outside in silence for a few seconds, taking in the sunset, before you turn to look at her.
"How'd you like the club?" You ask.
"It was fun! I met lots of cool people."
"I told you, kid. You just needed to give it a chance."
"I know, I know," she rolls her eyes, and you smile. "Thank you for pushing me to go. I don't think I would've gone without you." She's so genuine and kind in her tone that it throws you off-kilter. You're used to being berated by students, staff, and parents. To be told you actually had an impact on someone is not commonplace, to say the least.
"I'm sure you would've found your way there without me."
"Maybe, but you helped me get there a lot sooner than I would've on my own." She says, and you take a deep breath. It feels nice to be acknowledged, especially after the day you've had, and Ellie seems to sense it. You're looking for something to say when she looks down at her shoes and kicks a stray rock. "Just take the compliment and move on. Don't make it a thing."
"Alright." You say, laughing, and she cracks a smile, too. Traffic will be horrible on the way home, and you have nothing to eat for dinner, but it's okay. You did one good thing today. That's all you need.
"Sorry, my dad is taking so long." She changes the subject, a touch of anxiety creeping in, and you shake your head.
"Does he always work late?" You ask, and she shrugs.
"Sometimes. Dad and Uncle Tommy have been picking up jobs to send money to my sister in Boston. "
"What's in Boston for your sister?"
"Medical school. She's about to go into her internship at a hospital there."
"That's a big deal." You say, and she hums.
"Yeah. She'll probably save the world or something one day." There's a hint of something nostalgic in her voice, and you decide to push just a little.
"Do you miss her?"
"A lot," she says. "She's my best friend."
"She's lucky to have you." You say. She smiles but doesn't say anything. You want to ask more about her family, but a rickety, greenish pickup truck comes rumbling through the parking lot before you can. Ellie shifts her backpack on her shoulder as her dad and uncle come into view, and you smile at them. Joel, however, looks frantic.
He's unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the driver's side door before the car can even finish moving. There's dirt on his pants and a little bit of a sunburn across his arms, the muscles straining across the black fabric. He politely pulls the ball cap off his head to reveal sweaty curls as he approaches you, jerking his head toward the truck at Ellie. "Why don't you wait in the truck with Uncle Tommy? He's got a snack for you." He says, and Ellie lights up at the mention of food. When you're alone, he tucks his hands in his pockets and gives you an apologetic look.
"'M so sorry. We got caught up at work and lost track of time. It won't happen again." He says, wringing his hands like he's waiting to be scolded, but you wave him off.
"It's okay. Things happen, and I'm just glad she's got someone picking her up." You say.
"How'd she do today?"
"Really good. I think she fits right in."
"She make some friends?"
"I can't give away all my secrets. What else are y'all gonna talk about at the dinner table?" You tease.
"I guess that's right," he says as he stares at you, a muscle in his jaw jumping. "Thanks for waitin' with her."
"It was my pleasure." You say. You stand awkwardly for a few seconds, rocking back and forth on your feet. His eyes are locked in yours, and there's a silent competition to see who's gonna blink first. "Well, I should let you get home. Have a good night."
"Uh," he starts, stopping you before you can even fully take a step. "I wanted to apologize for the other night. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"You didn't make me uncomfortable," you say a little too quickly, and he smirks. "I was very flattered. Besides, it's not the first time."
"Beautiful woman like you, I'm sure you've got 'em linin' the block for a chance with you." He says. You're dancing a delicate dance here. You're not not flirting, and you're not not interested in him, but if your principal finds out, it could cause a whole new world of problems. Still, it's nice to be wanted after so long of being on your own. You're not a saint, but you're also not doing anything inherently wrong, right?
"The teacher thing usually freaks 'em out before they can get very far."
"That's a damn shame." He's quick with it, and you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes at the line. A buzz in your bag reminds you of the time and why you're still at school, and you find your footing again.
"Uh, I usually give out my contact information to the parents of my art club kids in case they need anything or need to contact me quickly. Since Ellie's an official part of that, I figured I should give you my phone number in case anything comes up. If that's alright?" You say, and he pulls his cracked phone from his back pocket.
"Yeah, yeah. That's more than alright." He says, handing it to you to punch in your information.
"It's for emergency purposes only."
"What d'you consider an emergency?"
"Mr. Miller-"
"Joel." He corrects, and you give him a look as you pass his phone back.
"Don't abuse it. I'd hate to have to put you in a group chat with all the PTA moms."
"You're evil." He groans, and you laugh. Tommy, leaning over and honking the truck horn, interrupts your conversation, and he shoots daggers through the back window.
"I'll see you next week, Joel." You say, dismissing him, and he hesitates for another second before nodding.
"See you next week." He says and turns on his heels to get back in his truck. You think you vaguely catch Joel scolding Tommy for being impatient, but you ignore his deep voice and the engine sputtering as you walk to your own car with a little more pep in your step than this morning.
TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 (look at how many of you there are!)
#joel miller#the last of us#joel miller x reader#joel miller the last of us#joel miller fic#the last of us x reader#joel tlou#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x f!reader#the last of us fic#the last of us au#joel the last of us#ellie the last of us#joel au#joel miller fluff#joel miller au#tlou hbo#tlou fic#tlou fanfiction
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Sunset & Vine
PART ONE | PART TWO
SYNOPSIS: one year was all you had, and the winners of the previous hunger games. You didn’t know them that well, but they were still youre only friends. Now you’re thrown back into the Games with some new confusing feelings.
FANDOM: The Hunger Games
PAIRING(S): Peeta Mallark x Victor!Reader
RATING: G
CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Peeta Mellark, Katniss Everdeen, Haymitch Abernathy, Coriolanus Snow, Johanna Mason, Finnick Odair, Effie Trinket, President Coin, Gale Hawthorne
GENRE/AU: Dystopia, Angst, a very small amount of comfort,
WORD COUNT: 5.2k
WARNINGS: Katniss is slightly OOC, Canon divergent in some ways but not others, CATCHING FIRE AND MOCKINGJAY SPOILERS, Reader won the 74th hunger games and Peeta and Katniss won the 73rd.
A/N: Jjj, I’ve really got to stop writing stories with ending like this. Lemme know if you want part two. FYI!!! Changed a few words that completely changed the context and set up for the next part.
DEDICATIONS: Peeta my beloved
CREDITS: Taylor Swift for the name (Gorgeous - Taylor Swift)
It’s a woman, standing with her back to you— she has similar hair to yours and an almost protective stance to her. A haze of colour surrounds her… oranges, purples and yellows swirled into an indescribable but beautiful mess.
Peeta Mellark may be a fellow victor, and he may be one of your neighbours, but you know nothing about him. Except for this beautiful painting that he gifted you.
She wears a dress that flows in some sort of assumed breeze, and has a hand tentatively braced in her hair; there’s something so familiar about this scene that you can’t place— something familiar about the woman in particular.
You can’t place it.
You run your fingers along the small note that Peeta had left with the painting, hovering over the loopy cursive of his signature; it’s the same on the painting but it’s too beautiful to touch like that.
Last year, you won the seventy-fourth annual hunger games, and became a legend for getting district twelve two wins in a row— right alongside Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, Who won the seventy-third hunger games.
Thank god the months of parading you around were over and you could settle happily into your gigantic house by yourself.
Well, happily might be an over statement— you had no family, and certainly no friends… unless Haymitch counts but you don’t think he does.
So this painting feels extra special— a warmth in an otherwise cold and unfamiliar home.
“Where should I put it?” Muttering to yourself, you mentally scan the layout of your house; you’d want it to be in a place where you could see it often, but also somewhere where any house guest would be able to see it… yeah. House guests.
After shaking your head uselessly, you settle on hanging it in the entryway. For sure people would see it there.
You’d been putting off doing this for a couple of days, just because you hadn’t had a whole lot of energy to do anything but sit in a chair and half-read a novel.
So, after a few minutes of fiddling and messy calculations, the painting is hung in the entryway.
You take one last glance at the swirling coloured background once more, and then turn away, leaving the comfort and fantasy behind.
……
Victors are supposed to have immunity, they’re supposed to be done with the games for the rest of their miserable, trauma ridden lives.
But the seventy-fifth hunger games brings back all of the worst parts of last year— you know that out of the three other victors, you’re the female they want to get picked. You’re the easy decision, the loner that nobody cares about.
You know the Capitol loves Peeta and Katniss far too much, and you, not enough.
This, stacked on top of everything else the Capitol has put you through… it’s too much.
You’re pulled from your thoughts when there’s a knock at your door.
“Hello?” You say as you open it; Peeta Mellark is standing there with his lip turned down just slightly, his eyes center behind you for a moment before his face softens and lightens.
“Hey. You got the painting.” A smile melts onto his face, and you swear he looks… beyond words when he smiles.
After a long moment of silence, you clear your throat. “What brings you here…?” You stammer awkwardly, cringing at your choice of words.
He sort of— laughs? Chuckles? at you. “We’re talking strategy for the Quarter Quell and we figured we should include you.” His face falls again, and he looks like he’s holding something back.
Your back straightens. “The Quarter Quell isn’t for another few months—”
He nods slowly. “But we’re going to have to do the pre-tour… and they’re pulling names in just a couple weeks.”
The band around his ring finger gleams brightly in the sun, which sends some sort of jealous feeling rolling through you.
You shake your head because you don’t know Peeta Mellark, and, even if he is gorgeous, you don’t get crushes on people you don’t know.
Plus he’s in love and engaged to Katniss Everdeen, even if you did know him well enough to develop a crush.
He glances down, and then quickly yanks the ring off. “It’s, uh— just for the camera’s.” Then he gestures to the painting behind you. “That’s you, you know. I know you’ve never worn a dress like that, but I saw a screencap of you in The Games and inspiration just kind of… hit me.” he trails off at the end and fiddles with the ring in his hand.
“It’s… me?” You say slowly. “We barely know each other, why would you paint me?”
He takes a small breath. “You’re really beautiful, Y/n, I’ve always thought so.”
A breath hitches but you genuinely can’t discern if it’s him or you over the roaring of blood in your ears.
“So…” he starts again. “If you want to join us, we’re heading over to Haymitch’s now.”
“Okay.” You say, sounding more winded than you did before; you stare at him for a few more moments before you step out of the front door and shut it.
You walk silently beside him, trying not to take in his messy blonde hair or pretty blue eyes—and also, failing miserably—
Just as you reach Haymitch’s doorstep, you stop and tug on Peeta’s sleeve to get his attention. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Peeta.”
He looks down at you, the air around you charged with some kind of something that you can’t name, and just as he’s about to reach over to you, the door swings open.
“Why are you guys just standing out here?” Katniss says with her nose scrunched, she eyes you up and then eyes Peeta up in a similar fashion.
At least it wasn’t exclusively you.
Both your heads snap toward her, while Peeta smoothly comes up with a reason. “Y/n was feeling nervous, I was just trying to help calm her nerves.”
Haymitch raises an eyebrow from behind Katniss, and gives Peeta a look.
“Hey, Sweetheart.” He says, as Katniss steps aside and lets the two of you in. There’s a tenderness to his voice that you hadn’t realized you missed so much.
“Hi.” The three of you shuffle into what you think was once a living room but it’s chillingly messy in Haymitch’s house.
“Couldn’t we have done this at someone else’s house?” Peeta says, eying the empty bottles on the floor.
“No.” Katniss shakes her head, shooting Haymitch a glare. “Because everytime we have to talk to him, we have to wake him up with a bucket of water.”
You snort. “I’m sorry— a bucket of water?”
Haymitch cuts in. “Why do you think my hair’s wet? I definitely didn’t take a shower.” There's a water stain that makes his shirt sag, and you wonder how you didn’t notice before. Haymitch clears his throat. “Moving on; if it’s Katniss and Peeta then we can still milk the whole star-crossed lover thing— if it’s me or Y/n… that won’t work.”
“Y/n shouldn’t go.” Peeta interjects; you’re taken aback by it.
You fidget with the hem of your shirt. “I really thought I was the best person to go.” You pause, looking up at the three of them. “It’s not like there’s anyone here that will care if I don’t come home.”
Haymitch gives Peeta a scrutinizing look. “Look, Lover-boy, we know you have a crush but that isn’t enough for Katniss to volunteer herself if Y/n gets picked.”
Peeta looks to you and then back to Haymitch. “Katniss and I are the Capitol’s favourite couple right now, if we went we’d probably be much better off in terms of sponsors and parachutes.”
“And you don’t want her to go.” Haymitch gestures in yours and Katniss’s direction.
Peeta sighs but doesn’t deny it. It makes sense that he wouldn’t want his fiancé to go back to the Games.
“Peeta is right,” Katniss starts, “but, Haymitch, if you get picked… Peeta should stay. Either way.”
Peeta shakes his head. “No. I’m not staying.”
You cut in. “There’s no good reason why I should stay.” You’re basically the only clear answer; if you get picked you’ll go, and, if Katniss is picked, you’ll go. “I won’t.”
Now all three of them are staring at you. “If I get picked, Katniss can’t volunteer and if she gets picked, you can’t stop me from volunteering.”
Katniss huffs. “You can’t stop me from volunteering either.”
Really, you could all argue this for hours.
…..
The four of you had never come to a conclusion, and now it’s the day of the Reaping.
Effie stands uncomfortably at the bowl; she doesn’t seem happy about having to pull your names, despite her chipper facade.
“The female tribute for District Twelve is…” she says, digging around in the two slips of paper in the bowl. She finally pulls one out and reluctantly reads it out. “Y/n L/n.” She almost sighs your name.
Katniss’s fingers twitch nervously, like she wants to say something but you shoot her the strongest glare you can muster.
She doesn’t volunteer, and you’re glad for it.
You walk up to the stage, head held high; you know this is the start of the end of your life, so you might as well act more confident than you truly are.
Effie looks at you sadly once you’re settled behind her, and then turns back to the audience. “And… the male tribute for District Twelve is,” she spends another five minutes routing through the two names. “Haymitch Abernathy.” This time her sigh is one of relief.
But the relief does not last long.
“I volunteer!” Peeta says, stepping forward; Haymitch grabs his arm and says something too quiet to hear, and Peeta says something back. His face is full of determination as everyone watches him walk up the stage and stand next to you.
Everyone in your little group wears a look of defeat. Even you.
Only one of you can go home, and you’re going to do your damn best to make sure it’s Peeta Mellark.
…..
“I’m not ready for this.” You say quietly, as you walk down the corridor to your bedrooms on the train. “It’s hardly been a year, Peeta.”
He nods solemnly, not looking at you as you arrive at your door. His is just across the hall.
Peeta gently takes your hand in his and squeezes. “I know. It’s too soon.” He looks angry. “We were never supposed to have to do this again.” He drops your hand before you can reciprocate in any sort of way.
You do feel a little less nauseous though.
“It‘s okay.” You whisper, twitching your fingers and slapping it onto the doorknob. “It’ll be okay.”
Peeta’s eyes rove over you in a scrutinizing manner as though he’s trying to figure some meaning behind your words, but there isn’t one to figure.
Just that it will be okay. Peeta will, if you really just be specific. Peeta will return home, happy and safe.
Ready to live his life with the woman he loves… Katniss.
And you will fade into false glory and distant memory.
…..
“Finnick, Right?” You fidget with your fingers in front of you; Finnick Odair was an attractive man who oozed with confidence and smooth words.
“Want a sugar cube?” He asks slyly, holding one out to you. “They're supposed to be for the horses but— we’re going to die anyway, it won’t matter after that.”
You nod carefully. “Of course, because that would obviously matter if we weren’t already set for death.” You still take the sugar cube from his hand and pop it in your mouth.
You almost gag from it. Pure sugar was… a lot. “Ugh. That’s disgusting.”
Finnick chuckles. “But liberating.”
You shake your head but a smile still spreads across your face. “Liberating indeed, Finnick Odair. My last act of rebellion is eating a sugar cube.”
“Devastating, really. To the Capitol, I mean.” He smiles easily at you, before someone catches his attention and he saunters off.
Claudius Templesmith stood not far from you, crooning about something with one of the older tributes.
The older man— Betee, you think— stood, looking indifferent but also invested in Claudius’s ramblings and unnecessary questions.
You were dreading the questions he’d ask you during your second round of interviews.
The last time was time enough for you.
“What’d he want?” Peeta asks, walking up behind you and pulling your attention away from the other party-goers.
“Oh, you know,” you say flippantly, “sugarcubes, secrets, and sarcasm.”
Peeta’s eyebrows furrow in confusion but the smile remains on his face. “Sounds like an interesting conversation.” He extends his arm to you. “Shall we?”
You sigh. “Not like we have much choice.”
….
“I’d give anything to know what’s going on inside your head.” Peeta says softly, fidgeting with the rope in his hands. You’d both decided that learning how to tie some knots would be beneficial.
You chuff, an awkward laugh. “What do you mean?”
His fingers work steadily, and somewhat clumsily, with the rope; there’s something alluring about how sure he can be with his hands.
It makes you think of the painting in your house— the one that you’ll never see again— how patient he must’ve been to complete such a beautiful piece, how still and sure of himself.
“What are you thinking right now, Y/n?” He looks up at you, with those beautiful blue eyes of his.
You shrug. “I was thinking about…” you trail off, because you absolutely cannot say that you were thinking about his hands. A half-truth will have to do. “Your painting. How I’ll never see it again.”
Hip lips pull into a frown. “You’ll see it again, I’m going to make sure of it.”
Sighing deeply, you stand. “You’re the one who has to go home, Peeta, not me.” He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off. “It has to be you.”
….
You don’t have the time to argue about it for the next couple of days, you hardly even see each other.
Now, Cinna is preparing you for the arena. You know that everything he gave was meant for Katniss, he had obviously expected it to be her, or that he wouldn’t style you.
He hadn’t been your stylist, but yours had opted out of this year’s games, claiming it was too painful to watch you go back in.
You hadn’t liked her much the first time around, wanted to change you too much in ways that you most definitely did not like.
Cinna, though, you liked him. Though this would be the last time you saw him.
You were dressed in whatever mandatory suit that they designed for this game, a skin tight suit that looked like you were about to go scuba diving.
“It’s time.” Cinna says, glancing back to the tube at the back of the room. You turn back to it.
“Thank you, Cinna.” You say, bowing your head for him. “It was nice getting to know you.”
He smiles half-heartedly. “It was a pleasure, Y/n.”
You exchange a final goodbye and step into the tube. The sixth second countdown begins as the tube starts to ascend.
It's all water, just water and water and water in a large circle around them. There was also thin sand bars that connected the tubes and the Cornucopia, but you knew you wouldn’t be braving that.
Peeta stands three tubes down, with a morphling, a Career and Johanna between you two.
Twenty seconds.
You stare at him desperately, hoping he’ll stick to the plan and swim towards you; you catch his eyes and he smiles reassuringly. It’s not a genuine smile but it still calms you all the same.
Ten seconds.
You ball your fists, clenching hard.
Nine.
Eight.
God, it’s going to be difficult to get out of the water.
Seven.
Six.
You’re not the strongest swimmer, maybe you should go to the Cornucopia.
Five.
Four.
And it’s a long way to swim, even for someone who does know how. Only experienced swimmers, like Finnick, would have an easy time of it.
Three.
Two.
Then, it occurs to you, maybe those sandbars go all the way to the shore; if you get to the Cornucopia, Grab, well, anything, and then flee via the sandbars, you just might be okay.
One.
The pads everyone stands on recede into the water and dumps everyone straight in.
It makes you realize that most of your competitors do not know how to swim.
Peeta is just barely floating thanks to the bright purple belt that had been strapped around all your waists.
You know how to swim at least a little bit , so you unbuckle yours and swim over to him; once it inflates fully, you give it to him and try to drag him towards the sandbars.
It dawns on you all over again that Peeta is a tall guy, and he’s not exactly small either.
He’s strong and his weight definitely shows that; he tries to keep himself afloat but ends up making it worse.
Eventually, you make it over there, and he pulls himself up onto the loose sand; it takes a bit of effort because it’s slippery and keeps moving under your weight.
It’s barely stable enough to be a viable option. Just barely.
You leave him there for a minute and swim to the cornucopia. There's fighting going on on its small platform, but you just snag a small waterproof bag that sits a few yards away; a knife comes flying in your direction, and knicks your face.
The salt of the water stings as it mingles with blood.
When you spin back towards Peeta, he’s struggling and Finnick is approaching him.
You race back as fast as you can.
Finnick already has some pretty gnarly weapons strapped to him.
You’re about to draw the knife on him when shakes his head. “Relax, Y/n, I’m saving his ass.” Then he lifts a hand out of the water and flashes some sort of bracelet at you.
It’s the alliance bracelets that Haymitch had mentioned.
Oh.
“I-”you start, but you never really had a sentence to begin with.
You just lag silently behind as Finnick helps Peeta to the shore. The closer you get to the shore, the wider the sandbars get, and the sturdier they are as well.
Until they're eventually higher than the water, and wide enough for both Peeta and yourself to walk side by side.
You collapse onto the sand when you finally reach the shore and stay there for only a second.
That’s all you have before the three of you are up and running into the forest in front of you.
….
When Peeta’s heart stops, you're sure that yours does too— you’re sure that, as you stand there in a state while Finnick tries to resuscitate Peeta, you’re also unresponsive and silent. Dead.
True enough, in a way.
The longer you stare at Peeta’s face, still twisted in pain from the shock, the more you feel like dropping to the ground and sobbing.
You tried to imagine the way he painted with camouflage training stuff, drawing intricate designs onto both his and one of the morhpling’s arms.
It had washed off by the next morning but you had spent the whole night longing to touch it, run your fingers along his arm, trace the shapes and swirls.
Beyond the paintings, you recalled his magnetic smile and the way he always made you feel safe and calm, the steady air that he radiated.
You weren’t ready for him to die, he was the one who was supposed to win this, after all. You had resolved that Peeta Mellark was going to be the winner of the 75th Hunger Games and you were going to do whatever you needed to to make that happen. You were even prepared to turn into somebody you weren’t, just to make sure Peeta went home. Or at least, you thought you could if you had to come to it.
But now, you’re ready to give up. Finnick or Johanna could win— and they should. Literally anyone else but you. Everyone who had a life now that Peeta is gone.
You’re just about to collapse to the ground when Peeta starts to cough erratically, and he manages to sit straight up.
“Peeta!” You cry as you fall to the ground next to him, and wrap your arms around his neck. He seems disoriented for a moment before he hugs you back, right. “I really thought you were gone.”
He gently strokes your back, as you fuss over him, double checking that he’s okay and checking his burn.
…..
You hear a loud sickening crack from somewhere else in the arena that makes everyone but Johanna and Finnick jump. You feel Peeta’s hand wrap around you protectively and pull you closer to him in the single instant that you’re all reacting to the noise.
It takes a few delayed seconds before each one of you realizes that it’s just the lightning in 12, before you realize just how having Peeta’s hands on you makes you feel.
His fingers slip from your waist, brushing softly as they fall away and leaving you feeling just slightly feral.
You pull yourself away, and dig your nails into your thigh to ground yourself. Getting used to this clock thing was going to be agonizing.
You’re waiting patiently as the lot of you— You, Peeta, Finnick, Johanna and Beetee— come up with a plan to take down the force field and take out the Careers at the same time.
You can barely focus on the conversation because you itch to have Peeta’s hands on you again, to feel his fingers against your skin again.
In fact there’s so many things you’d like to say and do with Peeta that you know you will never have the chance to; not to mention that he is in love with someone else and would never be interested in any of those things with you anyways.
You’re pretty sure you’d been staring at Peeta but you only notice because Finnick shoots a look at you— you can’t tell exactly what he’s thinking but it must be something about that.
You try to zone back into the plan.
….
Trying to trap the careers failed miserably, and the person most experienced with a bow was you, but only thanks to Katniss’s training.
Everything was a blur as the force field came down; chaos, fire everywhere— you couldn’t see or hear Peeta.
You worried about him and you laid pathetically on the ground, half out of your mind. You wondered if he was having trouble with his prosthetic leg, or having run from Enobaria or one of the other careers. You wondered if he’d make it out okay, even though it was obvious you wouldn’t.
You wondered and worried for what felt like forever until an airship appeared above you.
Great. You thought, the Capitol has come to torture you and everyone you’ve ever loved until the couldnt anymore and all of you was nothing more than a shell of a person. Until the only option was avox or death.
You can’t move, or fight it as the giant claw, scoops you up.
All that effort and you still managed to condem each and everyone of you to torture.
…..
“Relax, Y/n!” Haymitch snaps, as Finnick restrains you.
Katniss sits on the other side of the table, looking just as devastated as you.
“What do you mean, you didn’t get Peeta? You can’t just leave him there, they’ll hurt him worse than any of us could ever imagine!” You say, still struggling to get away from Finnick.
Katniss actually argues in your favour. “I did say I would only do this thing if you got both her and Peeta.”
Plutarch, the game maker shakes his head redundantly. “Peeta and Johanna were just to far away for us to locate before the Capitols airships came; I’m sorry, we’ll get them back eventually.”
Finnick finally lets you go once you’ve calmed down. He has a solemn look on his face. “I’m sure they’ve got Annie too. We need to save them as soon as possible.”
….
As soon as possible turns into several weeks, several heartbreakingly, agonizingly long weeks.
You can’t help but think about Peeta every moment of every day . You imagine all the terrible things Snow is doing to him, you wish it was you in his place.
Peeta was the one person who never deserved any of this, over anyone else. You and Katniss had been willing to do whatever you needed to to survive, you’d done things maybe you weren’t particularly proud of. But Peeta? He had never let the Games change him.
He had always been the same.
Safe, steady, comfortable, strong.
You don’t even have any hope that they’re showing him any mercy.
They aren’t.
You know now, you know by the way that last interview they aired went— how he was struck just as the cameras shut off, how your heart broke when you looked into his eyes, when you saw just how much they’d hurt him already.
You were just about ready to burst into Coin’s office and tell her that you were getting Peeta now, regardless of the consequences to Thirteen.
Gale and Katniss were fighting a lot lately, tension was heavy between them; and not in a good way. You didn’t know Gale well, but the comments he made about Peeta made your skin crawl and your hands itch to throw a few punches.
Actually they were arguing now, about Peeta, and you were listening.
Gale’s head snaps to you randomly and he barks at you; “and you! Why the hell are you so invested in Bread Boy?”
You startle for a moment, but then narrow your eyes. “What do you mean why am I invested? He’s my— friend.” You say, sounding unsure even to yourself.
Katniss huffs. “I mean, come on, Gale, you know that our relationship has been fake from the start and we—” she gestures between the two of them. “—we’re friends, Gale, we always have been.”
He scoffs, and says something else in a bitter tone but all you can hear is Katniss’s words replaying over and over in your brain.
Our relationship has been fake from the start.
“Shut up for a second!” You snap at Gale, and turn back to Katniss. “Your relationship was fake the whole time? Yours and Peeta’?” You almost feel like an asshole for asking, just in case it is real; but so many things Peeta has done and said make so much more sense recontextualized like this.
Like when he said their rings were ‘just for ten cameras.’ Or when he told you he always thought you were beautiful. Or even the way he tried so hard to convince not to go back into the games.
Both of their faces fall flat, Katniss’s in disbelief. “You didn’t know?” She says.
You shake your head slowly. “No, I-” you stop yourself because you're at a loss for words.
“Y/n, we didn’t try to hide it from you, how did you not know? Even Haymitch said right in front of you that Peeta had a crush on you!”
You deadpan once again. You had blatantly misread everybody’s words in that conversation. “I just assumed that was about you!” You stare at each other for a second longer before you stand up abruptly. “I have to go.”
There was a lot of thinking you had to do and then a lot of planning— and a bit of yelling too.
…..
You were deemed too invested in the mission to actually go on it, and Finnick was too distressed over Annie to be allowed.
So you had been sitting together in silence; the silence was comfortable but the insane amounts of stress running through your veins was enough to make the tension in the air as sharp as a knife. Not between each other but to any other person.
Especially since Gale was allowed to go on the mission, and you felt that was entirely unfair— Gale doesn’t even like Peeta.
It had turned into a whole day of waiting, and only twenty minutes ago, they had returned with Johanna, Peeta and Annie.
The anxiety had grown tenfold when you were both informed you weren’t allowed to see them yet.
Now, you’re standing outside the door where Annie was resting, watching her through the one way window.
Finnick’s eyes are filled with so many you can only pick out one or two; you wonder if your eyes will look similar when you enter Peeta’s room.
You wish him luck and watch as he enters the room; Annie looks like she screams his name and then jumps him. He holds her up, looking like it’s the happiest moment of his life.
Watching them makes you much more excited to see Peeta, although you're not sure it will be quite that exuberant of a reunion.
You walk a couple doors down, glancing in the windows as you do; but you stop when you see Katniss and Johanna in one of the rooms before Peeta’s.
Why in the world is Katniss in the Hospital? What happened?
You push open the door gently, and Katniss doesn’t stir— you take note of the morphling drip in her arm, that must be keeping her knocked out.
You see Johanna is also asleep, her head is shaved and she has the worst tortured expression on, even though she looks to be sleeping soundfully— physically, anyways.
If she’s looking that bad, you can’t help but wonder about Peeta. You’re always wondering about him.
You don’t want to disturb either of their healing so you quickly leave the room, shutting the door as quietly and calmly as you can.
Finally, as you walk out, you spot the guards in front of Peeta’s door; you think it’s a little strange, considering neither Johanna nor Annie had security at the door but you walk towards the door anyways.
The guards hold out a hand as you approach.
“Restricted access, you can’t go in there.” The guard says, almost heartlessly.
Just as he finishes speaking, the door opens and Haymitch steps out and away. You would look through the window but the blinds are down.
“I’m sorry, Sweetheart, you can’t see him.” Haymitch takes your arm and leads you back down the hallway. “The Capitol… they tortured him so bad he—” Haymitch stops, and looks away for a second before looking back. “He tried to strangle Katniss, and kept yelling about how Katniss was a liar. He’s not himself right now.”
So much for your heartfelt reunion.
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#peeta mellark#the hunger games peeta#thg peeta#peeta x reader#peeta#peeta mellark x reader#peeta mellark x you#thg x reader#the hunger games x reader#the hunger games#catching fire#mockingjay#spoilers#mockingjay spoilers#catching fire spoilers#thg spoilers#the hunger games spoilers
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Smol Brainstorm/Oneshot: Just Let Me Get It Out Of My System
Words: 4,000+
Author's Note: Ok Ok do you remember when Jungkook rapped Ddaeng? When he did this and I saw it years ago this idea sparked in my head. This has some smut in it so if you're not into smut then just ignore it. I actually really liked this and hope to put it in the story when I get to that point after tweaking it once again. So here, let this hold ya!
This would take place well after JenKook are established in pleasuring each other. Both of them are confident in bed and know each other's bodies well by this point. I feel like Jennie would be a switch and once in a while act bratty at times in bed. I kind of get brat tamer vibes from this scenario. Kinda?? In this, she definitely wanted to be in control this time around but Jungkook had other plans when she drove him crazy, lol.
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Nah...this was not OK. Nowhere near OK.
How dare he? Does he not understand how this was making her feel?
There Jen stood on stage watching along with the rest of the members as Jungkook rapped a part of Ddaeng. Aggressively might she add. He rapped so well. Jungkook always gave it 1000%. But his appearance was beginning to distract her while she attempted to put how sexy he looked in the back of her mind.
She failed instantly.
Usually, she would not act this way about him on stage but tonight it was just something about him that was making her feel some type of way. A type of way that made her feel a familiar ache between her legs.
‘What he so loud for?’ she thought, mesmerized as she watched him.
Was it his hair? How fluffy it appeared and framed his handsome features?
She loved that he was growing it out. It gave her extra excuses to run her fingers through it. Long hair suited him well and it seemed like he wasn’t going to be cutting it, anytime soon. If not the hair, was it his voice? He sounded sexy when rapping.
‘Not the time or place, sis,’ she scolded herself, attempting to push the dirty thoughts away.
Okay, but what about his outfit? Because damn, he was looking good.
Actually, screw it. It was all of the above and again, it was not OK.
Miss Bangtan went on to turn her attention to the crowd, hyping them up with the rest of the members because of how her body was getting worked up. She needed to keep it professional and put these aroused thoughts in the back of her mind.
One thing is for sure, she was going to get this man alone, tonight. No ifs, ands, or buts. Nobody was going to ruin her impromptu dick appointment.
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After the show, the members were safely dropped off at the hotel, coming off from the excitement of the fifth muster. They chatted amongst themselves about the show and what they wanted to eat.
“All right, Korean BBQ it is. Make sure you’re ready in 20.” Namjoon confirmed what they were eating for a late dinner.
“We’ll meet at the lobby,” Yoongi added as they all agreed.
On the floor where their rooms were, Jennie walked behind the guys and Jungkook walked beside her. All those dirty thoughts she had about him this evening came back as she impatiently waited for an opportunity to get him alone. Once the guys were distracted with their own conversations as they walked down the hall, Jennie firmly grabbed Jungkook's hand and began to lead him in a different direction. The direction of her room as they left the rest behind, who were oblivious of their absence.
“Babe?” Jungkook asked softly.
If only he knew how hard it was to not jump his bones right there...
When she didn't answer him, he raised an eyebrow and watched her curiously as she led him to the door of her room. The room she had all to herself after beating the members in rock, paper, scissors. Once she opened it, she let him go in first and quickly followed in. It was a master suite and Jungkook understood why the members were profoundly upset when Jennie won the game. The room was huge with a dining table, king sized bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen area.
After tossing his bag on the couch, he turned around to see Jennie tossing her room key and bag on the floor.
“What—” before he could finish his sentence, her lips crashed against his, hurriedly.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, smooching him for dear life as she held him close. Before he knew it, her tongue had eased its way to brush up against his. The heated gesture prompted him to kiss back, placing his hands on her hips. Whatever had gotten into her, he wasn't complaining.
Pulling away to breathe, her hands roamed over to his jacket, yanking it off. She then proceeded to walk him back to where the bedroom was.
Wasting no time, she lightly shoved him on the king-sized bed. She watched as his back hit the soft sheets while the sounds of his soft panting filled her ears. He looked taken aback by her behavior and prompted himself up on his elbows.
She glanced at his lap. It looked enticing with his legs spread out. Just waiting for her to take a seat. After removing his black bucket hat and tossing it aside, he watched as she stripped down to her underwear. With hungry eyes, he stared at her exposed skin, feeling his jeans getting tighter.
They're supposed to meet everyone in the lobby in less than 20 minutes, right? Well, everyone was going to have to wait.
No longer wondering what was happening, he sat up and reached out for her.
"Get over here," he demanded in a low voice, pulling her to him by the hand.
With him on the edge of the bed, she straddled him, placing her knees on each side of him. She closed the gap, kissing him again, hands roaming down his chest. She felt that a few buttons were unbuttoned from his shirt. Feeling impatient, she ripped open his shirt and the loud pop of buttons filled their ears. The buttons flew all over the floor and she quickly peeled the shirt off, tossing it away.
Cupping his face, she went in for a deep kiss, while his hands slowly roamed down her body. The sensations between her legs became prominent once she began grinding into him. The action caused Jungkook to groan softly into the kiss, gripping her hips tighter.
"Baby..." he breathed out against her lips once she moved again.
If she kept this up, he wasn't going to be able to control what he was going to do to her. Whatever her intentions were, her being in charge of this was on thin ice.
Not when she teased him like this.
The Golden Maknae definitely planned to take over soon. But for now, he allowed her to have her fun and let her believe that she would dominate tonight. Jennie moved at a slow pace, driving him crazy. The more she moved, the more she felt him hardening. Just what she wanted.
Everything she was doing with him felt good as her need for him grew. She needed him badly and already felt ready for him as her panties were soaked. They hardly did anything yet he had this effect on her. Pulling back, her lips traveled down to his neck while his breathing became more audible. He let out a few curses as she lightly nipped and sucked on his neck until she found his sweet spot.
A sharp gasp escaped her lips when he moved his hips harder against hers. It seemed like he wanted this as much as she did, meeting his lustful gaze.
“You rapping tonight was too sexy,” she spoke up. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting to get you alone? How much I’ve been wanting to ride you?”
That made him widen his eyes. Sure she topped before but he had never seen her in this state of mind after a show. He made her like this because of the way he rapped, tonight?
“Just...just let me get this out of my system and then we can meet with the guys, all right?" she proposed, with urgency in her voice. "Right now, I need you. And I need you to fuck me. Can you do that for me?”
All she wanted was a quickie. She wanted to get railed and then get ready to go out to eat.
Processing her words, Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle and slowly lick his lips. His doe eyes darkened as he suggestively raised an eyebrow. She squirmed at the sight of the tempting smirk on his features.
He leaned over to her ear, making her shiver. "You need me that bad, huh? I can do that for you."
That's all she needed to hear as she softly bit her bottom lip and pushed him back down on the bed. He watched as she went to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants.
"Follow my lead," she answered and she pulled his pants and boxers down.
'I'll follow your lead for now. But we're both going to know who is leading tonight when I'm done letting you have your fun,' he thought to himself as very physical ideas popped into his head.
She heard him mention that he had condoms somewhere in his bag, but she shook her head and took out one from her bra, handing it to him.
"Came prepared," she said proudly as he proceeded to put it on his length.
She was so ready to sit on him but before they could proceed, they heard her phone ringing from her pants. Annoyance briefly flashed on Jennie's face as she had a feeling who was calling.
"Answer it," Jungkook stated.
"Answer it? Are you going to stay quiet when I talk?"
"Maybe," he grinned mischievously as he sat up, getting close to her face.
"Kookie..." she warned, earning a light chuckle from him.
She reached over to her jeans while he held her so she wouldn't fall over. Back safely on his lap with her phone in her hands, she looked at the called ID. Surprisingly it was Namjoon and not Jin who called.
"Yeah?" she answered.
"Nini, you almost ready? We're downstairs waiting," his deep voice filled her ears.
"Um...go without us, we'll catch up, Namjoon," she replied while he immediately understood.
He laughed at her statement. "Okay. Don't be too long,"
"Give me the phone," she heard Jin in the background. It sounded like he snatched the phone from him as he began to ask questions. "Where in the world are you? Are you almost ready?! We're waiting!"
Before she could answer, Jungkook took the opportunity to trail light kisses around her neck, making her eyes flutter.
"Are you there, Jennie? Hello? Are you seriously ignoring World Wide Handsome Jin?"
She cleared her throat, pulling away while giving Jungkook a warning glance. He was going to get it for being this playful in a situation like this.
"...yes...I'm still here, Jin," she put an emphasis on his name as a signal to Jungkook. But he didn't care and persisted in kissing and nipping at her neck.
This little shit...
Jennie fought back the moan that threatened to escape. One wrong sound and it was over. Jungkook didn't seem to mind. He always loved a challenge and the thrill of getting caught these days.
“We're all waiting in the lobby. I want my BBQ, so hurry it up, will you?" Jin exclaimed.
Struggling not to make any sounds from what her man was doing, she stammered, “So-rry. Be down in-a-few!”
“You sound weird. Is everything okay?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
She should have just hung up right then and there because Jungkook began to laugh.
“Hey! Why is that troublemaker laughing? Jungkook is with you? What are you two doing?!" the oldest member demanded.
"Let's give her another five minutes. If not then she'll just meet us there. You know how she likes to take forever getting ready for things," Namjoon grabbed the phone back, trying to ease the situation for the young lovers.
She heard him end the call as she shook her head and tossed her phone on the bed.
"I can't stand you for doing that,"' she playfully scolded Jungkook.
"It's fun messing with him," he responded and pulled her in for another heated kiss.
She pushed him back down to continue where they had stopped.
"We don't need much foreplay, I'm already ready for you," she admitted, biting her bottom lip softly.
“Yeah, I can feel it. All this from me rapping? I'll make sure to do it again,” he looked pleased to be the one to get her like this.
"You might have to," she said before letting out a sharp gasp when she slowly sat down on his length.
She let out a curse and used his chest for support. When he felt her sit down, he let out a breathy moan and threw his head back. She felt so good around him. Something he'll never get enough of.
"Go slow for me," he directed. "I want to see you enjoy yourself,"
He knew how much she wanted to go fast to get a quick release. The whole point was to have a quickie but he wanted to take it slow first. Regardless, he was going to make it worth it.
His statement made her feel flushed. Over the past few years, his confidence in their intimacy has grown with patience and communication. And he had always made her feel sexy. This time was no exception.
At a slow pace, she moved up and down, closing her eyes in bliss. It had been a while since she topped and she almost forgot how good it felt as soft moans fell from her lips. Jungkook watched in delight as her face scrunched up in pleasure, enjoying the view. After a while, she had found a steady rhythm, bouncing on him, sensually. He was captivated by her. A gorgeous view all to himself. His warm hands roamed around her body as he gazed intently into her eyes.
"That's it...keep going. You look beautiful like this," he admired her.
His hands wandered around her chest. The yellow set she had on complimented her dark skin and he contemplated ripping it off and flipping her over. Finally joining in, he gripped her hips to guide her. As he lifted his hips up, he guided her down to meet his. The movement caused her to whimper his name loudly and he slightly increased the pace.
"You always take me so well,” he praised.
His words made her involuntarily clench around him and he let out a loud moan, slowing down his movements. The way he sounded made her squirm. It was so sexy, she wanted to hear it again. Jungkook, however, was about to snap and gave her a dark, sensuous gaze.
"Jennie...if you do that again, you're going to be in trouble," he warned with a growl.
Did he just...growl underneath her? That sounded even hotter.
"Am I?" she asked innocently.
"Try me,"
She was amused to see him like this. He was the one who messed with her first when she was on the phone, so why not have a little payback?
Jen had no clue what she was in for because Jungkook was always unpredictable in and out of the bedroom. But she took a chance and chose to be hard-headed as she clenched around him again.
Jungkook growled out a loud curse and swiftly sat up, taking her by surprise. Having enough, he gripped her hips and guided her up and down at a faster pace. Snapping his strong hips up against hers, he made her cry out louder than she ever had tonight. She dug her nails into his back and held onto him for dear life. He wasn't kidding when he said she would be in trouble. She was becoming undone by each deep thrust as desperate whimpers escaped her along with his heavy breaths.
"Are you close?" he asked, picking up the pace as he loved how she responded to him.
"Fuck...J-J..." she whined.
She felt herself getting close, feeling an overwhelming amount of pleasure.
"Does it feel too good? You don't want me to stop, do you?" he teased.
She couldn't speak as she shook her head.
"Use your words, baby girl," he demanded.
"N-no, don't st-op-ah!"
Feeling her high approaching, the ecstasy of his thrusts began to make her squirm. It felt so good. So good. But she felt like she wasn't going to be able to withstand it any longer. Jungkook felt her writhe and try to get out of his grip while he proceeded to make her into a moaning mess with his hips.
"Mm-mm," he shook his head and enveloped his arms around her waist firmly. "Remember what you asked for. Isn't this what you wanted?"
He wanted to put her pleasure first and she was going to take it.
"You're not getting off of me until you're fully satisfied," he said as she clung onto him again, scratching his back.
It boosted his pride to see and hear her like this. He knew he was doing his job right, giving her what she wanted.
"You can do it," he encouraged as he felt that she was going to release any moment. "You can handle it. Just let go, baby. Let go for me,"
That was all she needed to hear as she cried out his name, release washing over her. Jennie's body trembled fiercely from how strong her high was because of him. Jungkook's release followed as a low moan escaped him, slowing down his movements. While he stopped thrusting, breathing heavily against her neck, he noticed her body was still shuddering. All because of him and it was a spectacle he wanted to see more often if he could do what he just did again.
"Good girl..." he praised as he felt her shakes come to an end.
Once their breathing slowed down, she let a low chuckle, murmuring, "Shit..."
She had to take a moment to recollect herself. Fucked up was an understatement but she was well pleased. She never had such an intensified release like this. No matter how much she scratched and pulled his hair, he wouldn't let up and got her to this state. Moving away from his neck, she went in to kiss him, taking in the moment. Gosh, she loved him.
Taking a look at her, Jungkook regarded her cheeks looking wet. Had she been crying? The pleasure felt so good she had shed some tears.
"You okay?" he asked tenderly, wiping her tears with his thumb.
“Mm-hm. I feel great thanks to you. I just hope I can walk," she lightly joked.
"I'll carry you if you can't," he grinned.
"How will we explain that to the guys?"
"You hit your leg on the table of your suite," he suggested, making her chuckle.
"What about you? Are you okay?” she brushed his hair back that was sticking to his forehead.
“I am now that you’re feeling good. Remind me to rap more often to get you like this,"
She got off of him and felt that her legs were a bit wobbly but she managed to walk. Glancing at the floor, she noticed the buttons of his shirt scattered around.
“Oh no,” she said, embarrassed, "I did it again! I should really stop doing that so I won't have to keep buying you shirts to replace the ones I rip,"
She had a bad track record of ripping some of his shirts when they got too passionate.
“Don’t worry about it," Jungkook smiled in reassurance after he threw away the condom. "I love it when you do it. Let's shower,"
"All right. And we need to think of an alibi. I'm thinking this time we can be late because we were shopping for snacks at a store. I'll buy extra snacks for Jin. You know once he sees them, he forgets about everything else,"
He grinned at the idea. "Believable. I'll get the shower ready,"
After gathering the outfit she was going to wear, Jennie went to meet Jungkook in the bathroom and noticed some of the scratches she made on his back.
"Oh gosh, your back," she pointed out, feeling a little bad.
"Hm?" he turned and checked out his back in the bathroom mirror.
A few visible scratches from their physical activity. Nothing bad at all. In fact, he liked them.
"It's a sign I did a good job," he said, feeling cocky. "I mean you were shaking because of me,"
He watched as she playfully rolled her eyes while her cheeks burned up at the thought. He was not going to forget making her tremble tonight. No way. Not the way her body reacted to him. She was not going to hear the end of it.
“How’s the water?” she asked, looking at the shower that was running.
Her shower playlist from her speaker played in the background as she awaited his response.
“Nice and ready for us,” he gestured for her to go in first after she stripped out of her bra and panties.
But when she stepped in and felt the water hit her, she yelped and jumped out.
“Jungkook! What the hell!? It’s freezing cold!”
The Golden Maknae laughed loudly at how startled she was and blocked her ongoing punches. She was so easy to mess with.
“Annoying~! Cut it out!" she laughed and changed the water setting so it could heat up.
When they got in, Jungkook continued his playful behavior.
"Oh my gosh, would you move?" she complained as he purposely blocked her way so she couldn't reach her body wash.
"What? I'm not doing anything," he replied innocently. "Oh, you're reaching for this?" he grabbed the body wash.
"Yes, give it," she reached out for it but he lifted his arm up high.
"A kiss first," he negotiated.
She gave him another glare as he puckered his lips. Closing the gap, she gave him the lip lock he wanted. When they pulled away, he smiled victoriously and handed her the body wash. They helped wash each other as the hot water relaxed their bodies. The shower was enjoyable and they danced and sang 'Done For Me' by Charlie Puth and Kehlani.
Feeling him poke her butt for the third time of their shower, she retaliated by smacking his. Her hit caused him to yelp while she giggled at his reaction. Following Jungkook rinsing off, he almost slipped which made her laugh wholeheartedly.
“Not funny!"
“That’s what you get for putting cold water on me," she stuck her tongue out at him.
After getting out of the shower and getting situated, Jennie checked her phone to see a message from Namjoon not too long ago. It was to inform her that they went on to the restaurant. At least they wouldn't be super late.
She put on a white tank top, jeans, and her Nike brand sneakers she had released. She noticed that Jungkook had coordinated with her, wearing his white shirt, Timberlands, and jeans. She placed his large black hoodie on herself, so she could stay warm if the store's air conditioning was too cool for her skin.
"And before we forget. Concealer," she remembered.
Jungkook took a seat on the toilet and watched as she placed her dark colored concealer and his on the bathroom counter. Approaching him, she went to take care of concealing his neck first so they could hide their passionate marks.
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When they made it to the store, they grabbed a cart and explored the aisles.
"Okay...those chips Jin likes have to be somewhere," Jennie murmured while Jungkook pushed the cart. "Ah-ha!"
She placed two bags in the cart. "Oh, and these. Tae eats these cookies. I tried them and it's pretty good. Have you?"
"Yeah, but I've been wanting to eat your cookies, again. Can you bake soon? I can help if you want," he asked.
She smiled at the idea, "Yeah, let's do that. Might as well buy some cookie mix while we're in here,"
Fooling around, Jennie sat inside the cart, careful not to crush the snacks. She enjoyed riding in the cart while Jungkook pushed it through each aisle. Before they went to check out their items, he took out his phone to take a selfie. He held the camera up high and stood in front of the cart. He had a silly expression on his face while Jennie posed excitedly with all the snacks, holding up a few bags of chips and candy. After clicking away, he stood beside her to check out the pictures. They laughed at how silly they looked and she encouraged him to post it on Twitter.
He tweeted the photo with the caption, 'Snacks! Nom Nom Nom! #JK'
Tweets under JenKook's selfie came through at a rapid rate, with ARMY gushing over the couple.
‘Omg they’re so cute'
'You two look perfect together'
'awwwwww'
'wtf this is so cute'
'golden duo at it again'
'they look so happy'
'Jennie is in the cart hahaha'
'omg another JenKook post! Finally! We were starving!'
'This is typical JenKook energy lol'
The members, who were already seated at the restaurant and on their phones, saw the post. They began to tweet out their reactions, making ARMY laugh at their banter.
‘Are you telling me you kids have been snack shopping this entire time while we're waiting for you to eat? #Suga'
'Kekekeke. #V'
'Share! #JM'
'YOU'VE BEEN AT THE STORE ALL THIS TIME!? #Jin'
‘Hurry up so we can eat! #Jin'
‘LOL! We’re on our way, sheesh #Jen’
#smol brainstorm#smol oneshot#jungkook smut#jungkook x black oc#jungkook scenarios#bts 8th member#jungkook x oc
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ACCIDENTAL
SUMMARY — after a battle, you begin to wonder if all you’re meant to do is suffer, or if maybe, it was all accidental
AUTHORS NOTE — i forced @cuinaminute229 to give me a prompt (what if i told you none of this, was accidental), and then incorporated a road trip into this so enjoy the mess that it is! i wrote this in a lecture so if there are any minutes, no there aren’t
The lavender haze that settled around the compound brought peace to your mind. The days had only been getting longer since the last alien invasion you’d save New York City from, and despite the medals you’d won and magazine articles describing your heroics and praising you for your bravery, nothing felt lived up to enough to even calm your mind and save you one night of traumatic nightmares that wake you up with panting and cold flashes routinely.
You’d not been affected by a battle like this since Sokovia. Then, for almost an entire year, your nights were plagued with the echoing screams of Wanda calling for her brother. You jumped at every slammed door and couldn’t wash your hands or take a shower without thinking the water you dipped your body in was the blood everyone lost. Fury retired you from combat for seven months, Maria called your personal cell three times a week just to make sure your head was above water at the bare minimum, Natasha didn’t leave your side. For an Avenger, you were entirely human. But for a human, you were entirely too selfless. You were the heart of the team, the one who bore the most emotion, who thought of the innocence lost every time an invasion struck and children lost parents, parents lost kids, and those who were just lucky enough to lose nothing watched as everyone else lost everything. Nobody ever won, and you took it upon yourself to feel that hurt for them, because maybe, if you’d done something differently, if you’d acted quicker, or with more clarity, you might’ve been able to save somebody a funeral, or a house, or a car. Maybe if you’d been different, things wouldn’t be so bad.
Outside of being an Avenger, Natasha Romanoff was many things. She was careful, incredibly so, but even more than that, she was adventurous. After battles like Sokovia or New York, the first thing the Widow made priority of doing was submerge herself in change. When asked, she would never be honest about how much these battles left her wounded inside, but you knew the truth. You knew her like the back of your hand, and you knew the reason she was so eager for something different was because she didn’t want the remnants of who she was before a war suffocating how much she’d changed after it. If it was anything from dying her hair another color or cutting it all off, she was completely erasing who she was before from her appearance. She was all about new beginnings, and with all she’d overcome, you had no qualms about getting used to blonde hair, short hair, red hair, long hair.
This time was different though. Although her hair had been chopped a few nights ago, something in Natasha still craved for a new beginning. Her skin itched with the thought of how many lives had been lost, but mostly, her heart bled watching you suffocate in this city. The both of you needed out for a little, the both of you were so destroyed by selflessness that it left you nothing more than empty shells of lovers. Devoting your life to everyone else left so little time for devoting life for yourself and her, and maybe it was time to reclaim the moments you had left. If being an Avenger had forewarned you of anything, you’d learned how fragile life is.
Natasha left the bedroom hours ago, muttering something beneath her breath in russian. It was endearing, but you were too sedated by sadness to smile the way you would’ve under lighter circumstances. The sunset was lavender around the compound, and something about the gentle purple sky with impulsive strokes of blue and pink painted around the clouds let your mind wander from bloodshed to warmer days. It was the first time in weeks you hadn’t been paralyzed by PTSD.
The hinges on the door creaked as Natasha came back into the bedroom, arms adorned in blankets and snacks. Your eyes creased, watching her silently scramble around the room until she found the two duffle bags that stayed folded in the bottom of your closet until there was a mission that pulled you away for weeks. The white embroidering of ‘Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement Logistics Division’ is beginning to fray from the long term heavy duty use, but you have no idea why Natasha would need them now. The both of you had been laid off pending clearance from your appointed trauma counselors. If Fury didn’t play with two things, it was his favorite girls, albeit Maria, but she was usually safer off then you both.
She rustled through your closet and dresser drawers, folding odd articles of clothing and placing them in the duffle bags without consulting you on her motive. When she moved onto her clothes, you saw her brow pinch. She looked over you with flushed cheeks, nodding silently before moving on to grab shoes and chargers and shoving them into the duffles as well.
“You have my favorite hoodie on.” She mumbled neither to you or to herself, just stating what she’d discovered now that she’d finally come out of her head enough to analyze you. The both of you had been on autopilot for weeks, right next to each other but not even in the same room. “Let's go.”
You frowned, hugging the white comforter tighter around you while pulling your knees into your chest in a protective ball. “What?” You cocked your head to the side, a horrible habit that you’d picked up from Wanda after so many nights playing card games and cooking in the Tower. You hadn’t done so much of that since moving into the compound, but things had changed exponentially since then. It seemed one of you was always traumatized.
“We’re going on a road trip. Then Yelena’s picking us up. Melina renovated the cabin. We’re getting out of here.” Natasha didn’t give you any room to pose an argument. Her words were clear, and the direct edge to her words meant she wasn’t about to let you object. Just like you knew her, she knew you. Maybe you weren’t as inherently outgoing as she was, but you were always down to tag along.
“We can’t just leave.” You rebutted, grabbing her hand overtop of the duffle bag. Her skin was clammy, cold to the touch, trembling with anxiety that would’ve been untraceable had you been anyone else. You read her better than you read a third grade level chapter book.
She cocked an eyebrow, matching your curious head tilt that was meant to be threatening but came off as nothing but almost childish innocence. You could never be threatening to her, despite wielding knives and guns, and being marked with scars from battle where you’ve killed. She could never see you for any of that, just like you could never see her for an assassin. You were just Y/N and Natasha when alone together, and maybe that’s why you worked so well. “Why not?”
“What if-”
“They need us? The world ends? Haven’t we done our part, Y/N? Don’t we deserve a few weeks away from a city that's painted with blood?” Natasha climbed onto the bed, sitting on her knees in front of you. Tears filled your eyes, your heart hammering in your throat, it was like the world faded around you. What if something happened when you were gone? What if somebody needed you? They’d blame you so easily if you weren’t there. All your work in saving the city once would be undone in seconds. How did you get here? In a circumstance that left you paralyzed between choosing yourself and your girlfriend and choosing the lives of innocence?
“What if this is all we’re meant to do, Nat. What if none of this is accidental.”
“We’re meant for more than laying in bed unable to sleep because all we can hear is gunshots, because when we close our eyes all we see is people dying. We’re meant for more than panicking anytime our skin gets wet and thinking its blood, for mentally preparing for an attack anytime we turn a corner, for being scared of the dark in our twenties. We’ve done our part. We’ve made up for all the wrong we’ve been forced to do in life. You have to forgive yourself at some point. The world has forgiven you. I’ve forgiven you. You were never meant to be treated so harshly by the world, this was never meant to be your full purpose.” Natasha reaches out to brush a tear from your cheek, smiling her own watery smile at you as she tries not to cry. She’d never have forgiven herself if it weren’t for you, but she’d go to great lengths to make sure you understood how much nobody blamed you for your past.
“What if i’m not ready to forgive me?” You leaned into Natasha’s hand, grabbing onto her wrist to keep it there, comforted by her skin on yours, despite it being clammy and cold.
Natasha shook her head, tears falling from her eyes despite trying to keep them at bay. “I’ll do it until you’re ready.”
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x avenger!reader#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff angst#natasha romanoff hurt/comfort#natasha romanoff blurb#natasha romanoff fic
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hey!
its ok if you couldnt do my last request
but if you want you could do this request if you want to!
daki reader X yandere Poseidon + Hades and Thor + Loki
the reader was just walking around and accidentally bumped into the gods and the reader was about to tell them to watch where they were going but didn't get to say it because Brunhilde told her it was her turn and the gods was in shocked and to stunned to speak but then Zeus/Odin told the gods it was their turn as well and soon they realises they were fighting with the reader and soon Hades / Loki was watching them fight and soon when Poseidon / Thor cut the readers head gyutaro came out of her back and put her head back into place and the reader and gyutaro fight together.
but soon ended up into a tie and soon both gods went to go find the reader but saw the reader asleep on her brother lap underneath a sakura tree while gyutaro sings a lullaby and they watched the two siblings in awe but the gyutaro sensed someones was watching them and gyutaro woke the reader up and gyutaro told her someone was nearby and they looked around but noting was there but then muzan came and both of them bowed down and muzan touched the readers face and she blushed and the gods was jealous of muzan.
soon when muzan left with kokushibo they both met the jealous gods and soon started fighting and the gods who was in the fight they had won and muzan and kokushibo was wounded really badly and reader and gyutaro came and saw this and protected muzan and kokushibo but then the gods left leaving the 4 demons confused and angry.
and the reader started to feel uncomfortable and asked her brother to stay with her more often and soon the two gods started to show up wherever they went and soon the two gods asked the reader to marry them but then the reader said she got a lover that is worthy of her love which is Qin Shi Huang and the two gods started to feel really angry and started to fight Qin
and Qin was wounded and had to be hospitalised and in a coma and the two gods asked the reader again.
you can chose what happens after that :)
-You were a stunning woman, beautiful and confident, so you were able to handle any man that would come your way, some liked your confidence, liking their women dominate, while others would try to intimidate you into being submissive.
-Those bastards wouldn’t last long. Nobody talks to you like that.
-You were hanging out the stadium, a bit bored, as you were one of the champions for humanity, as you were once a human yourself, and Muzan gave you his blessings to fight, as he wanted to see you fight against the gods.
-You were bored just sitting in your room, so you went on a walk, exploring a bit of the stadium during one of the other fights.
-You rounded a corner and slammed into a pair of gods (Poseidon/Hades or Thor/Loki), nearly falling backwards and instantly you glared, going to tell them off before Brunnhilde, who was with them, spoke, “There you are Y/N. It’s your turn next, against (Poseidon/Thor) here.”
-The god in question was shocked that his opponent was the stunning maiden before him and you instantly grinned sadistically, “Good, I hope you’ll give me a challenge!”
-Your arrogance and confidence stunned the two gods, annoying them slightly before (Hades/Loki) couldn’t help but grin, finding you an amusing woman.
-Your fighting style was very unique, you were very agile and used your sash to hack and slash at him, laughing as you were having fun, but you were a little over-confident.
-The crowds were screaming out in horror as you were sitting on your knees, your head in your lap, after (Thor/Poseidon) cut your head from your shoulders, but unlike most demons, you weren’t vanishing.
-You were crying, making your opponent stare lightly, he felt bad making you cry, feeling like a bully, before you screamed out, “Big brother!!”
-Instantly, your back began to hunch grotesquely, your head fell from your lap as you fell forward as your brother emerged.
-(Poseidon/Thor) went to attack and was stunned when Gyutaro instantly charged, slashing him across the chest while holding you in his arms, protecting you.
-Gyutaro kneeled down in front of you, helping your head reattach as you sniffled softly, hiccupping as he doted on you, “Don’t cry- big brother is here.”
-Gyutaro was much stronger than you, and since you were together, like a Volundr, he was allowed to fight with you.
-Being double teamed was much more of a challenge, Gyutaro was both strong and fast, while you were fast, it definitely turned into a good fight, one of the best ones of the tournament.
-In the end, combined with his strongest attack and you and your brother’s combined attack, it caused a massive shockwave, that knocked all three of you out, ending the match in the first draw of the tournament.
-The two brothers were quick to seek you out, taken by your determination, power, and looks, you were a deadly but desirable combination, one they wanted for their own.
-In their search for you, they heard someone singing, not loudly, more like a lullaby, and they followed the voice, hearing Gyutaro, and found the two of you.
-Gyutaro was leaning against the tree, relaxing while petting your hair as you were sleeping quietly, your head on his lap, smiling softly as you knew you were safe with your big brother.
-Gyutaro felt the eyes and his hand instantly stilled before giving you a small shake, waking you up, “Someone is watching us.”
-You sat up, on the defense and the gods flinched, not wanting a fight, before they froze, seeing two men approach you both, Muzan and Kokushibo, both bowing your heads in greeting in respect.
-Muzan patted your head, making you beam, a faint blush on your cheeks which angered (Poseidon/Hades or Thor/Loki), seeing another man touching you.
-They weren’t bothered by the fact they knew nothing about you, only that they wanted you, and they were going to have you. One way or another.
-When Kokushibo and Muzan left you two, they started heading out, only to run into the brothers nearby, seeing the gods were furious.
-Gyutaro heard the shouting before you did, his hearing better than yours and took off running and you called out after him, running after your brother.
-You gasped in shock, seeing Muzan and Kokushibo being violently attacked by (Poseidon/Thor) and his brother (Hades/Loki).
-You shouted at them to stop as your brother ran into the fray, jumping in front of the gods, blocking their blows and you ran forward, putting yourself in front of the two strongest demons in Valhalla, your sash belts swaying, preparing for an attack.
-Just as quickly as the attack started, the attack ended, the gods lowering their weapons and turned, leaving the four of you confused and battered.
-You helped Muzan while your brother carried Kokushibo, taking them to the infirmary, because even though they were demons, their wounds weren’t healing very fast, due to being attacked by weapons of the gods.
-Gyutaro could see the way the gods were looking at you, and you would have too, had you not been so angry and worried, and he confided in you, telling you what he had seen.
-You grew scared, holding onto your brother’s hand, not wanting to be apart from him, as you knew he would keep you safe, since the gods were stronger than you, but not your brother; however, seeing what they did to the two strongest, made you worried, if terrified you.
-Muzan patted your head gently, seeing you were upset, comforting you, as he too was mad that these gods attacked them so cowardly and seemed to be after you for some reason, before he spoke, “Go calm down, Y/N. Go see that human of yours.”
-Your eyes lit up and smiled brightly, your boyfriend, the only man that you actually liked, and he liked you for you, Qin Shi Huang, and both Gyutaro and Muzan approved over him, and were okay with you dating the human.
-(Poseidon/Hades or Thor/Loki) were both stunned to see you shortly after leaving the infirmary, looking around like you were looking for someone.
-They approached you and you glared lightly, not trusting them as they had attacked Muzan and Kokushibo, “What do you want?”
-They didn’t hear the bite in your voice, or if they did, they chose to ignore it and your mouth dropped open and eyes went wide as they spoke in unison, “‘Y/N will you marry us?’”
-You instantly glared at them but did your best to keep your temper in check, “No, I’m already with someone that I love.” Their love-struck looks instantly melted into anger, trying to demand you to tell them who, which you refused, turning and heading away quick, making a mental note to tell your brother.
-When the two brothers saw you about a half hour later, as they had been stunned when you walked away, they went to approach to ask you to marry them again, when you called out happily, “Zheng~~” and their blood boiled, seeing you leaping into the open arms of a human of all things, pure joy on your face as your lover caught you in his own hug, spinning you around before asking if you were okay from your fight.
-You puffed up your chest a bit, a grin on your face, “Of course I am, my big brother and I can handle anything!” he laughed warmly, pecking your cheek which made you give a small happy squeak.
-Instantly the gods charged, attacking Qin and you screamed for them to stop, attacking them yourself to defend your lover, as while he was strong, he was a human against two gods and had no weapon.
-Your brother, Kokushibo, and Muzan heard your screams and ran to your aid, finding you holding the heavily injured body of your lover, while Brunnhilde was trying to get the two gods back away from you.
-Gyutaro didn’t hesitate and charged in with a war cry, seeing you upset and the other two demons were quick to join.
-Brunnhilde ended up having to call in Zeus and Odin, as well as the other Valkyries to get the two groups apart while you had taken your lover to the infirmary with Goll.
-Brunnhilde, Zeus, and Odin came to the infirmary, where Zheng now was, bandaged, but in a coma, with you sitting next to him, holding his hand while Goll was trying to get you to drink some water.
-You gave your statement of what happened, both times, with them attacking Muzan, their proposal, and then nearly killing your lover, had your brother and leader not shown up, and they confirmed it with other witnesses who had seen the fight, the gods struck first.
-You learned all 5 of them were thrown into holding cells, the two gods in one and the three demons in the other, pending the investigation.
-You weren’t happy to learn your brother was locked up, but you agreed, for the moment, because the attackers were also locked up.
-You were worried, knowing that gods did whatever benefitted them the most over humans and demons, and you were afraid because they were the family members of (Zeus/Odin) that they were going to get out with no repercussions for their actions.
-It was three days later when they were all released, with strict orders, punishable by going straight to Tartarus, that there was so be no contact between the two sides, meaning the two gods couldn’t bother you or Zheng any longer.
-The day Zheng opened his eyes, you were overjoyed, wanting to leap into his arms, but you didn’t want to hurt him, keeping his hand in your own instead, smiling down at him, “Waking up to an angel is the best way to do so.”
-Your face turned bright red at his flirtation, as he was the only person, except for Muzan when you were younger, to make you blush, but it made you happy, seeing your lover still had his sense of humor.
-Even though they couldn’t approach you without repercussions, you could never shake the feeling of eyes watching you, almost all day, following you, but you could never find who it was.
-You knew, deep down, who it was, but since you couldn’t find them, you didn’t say anything.
-No matter who you were with, Zheng, your brother, the other Upper Ranks, even by yourself, you could always feel eyes piercing into you, stalking you, hunting you.
-You were the predator; you were ½ of the Upper Rank Six! You weren’t scared! You couldn’t be scared…. could you?
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𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐎𝐘; 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 — a CEOs & ARRANGEMENTS PREQUEL
summary: before your deal started, jake had actually tried to kiss you once. but the starboy was not in the best state of mind. the blame? alcohol.
genre(s): best friends to lovers and fluff.
pairing(s): shim (park) jaeyun x fem!reader
warning(s): cursing, alcohol consumption, a drunk jake, mentions of drugs and alcoholic beverages, suggestive.
word count: 1.08k words
CEOs & ARRANGEMENTS MASTERLIST!
author's note: a sneak peek to jake and y/n's story. hope you enjoy! also, jake is called park jaeyun/ jake park bc of story purposes.
You were always right beside him, you never left his side and stayed loyal to him as if he was your brother. But you always wanted him to be something more.
The shy girl, the one who stayed in the last seat of the row, the girl who was afraid to speak up when she had a different opinion.
Shit! Why didn't I stay home? Why am I here, anyway?
Oh, right!
Jake had asked you to go with him… and you always said yes to him.
Why?
Because you had feelings for him.
This wasn't your ambience, the smell of tobacco, the blasting music, the rooms full of people. They just made you want to crawl out of your skin, the high toned music just raised your heartbeat levels to a different state, the music blasting in your chest as if it could leave a damn bruise.
You could be at home, drawing some of your sketches, but you still agreed to Jake's request. From the corner of your eye, you could see his brother Sunghoon, he was gulping down a bottle of beer with the intentions of running away from a girl that was asking him to dance.
Jongseong was hiding in a corner, just like you, but he had different intentions. He watched with sharp eyes and a cutting jawline, the girl who was Hoon's best friend. She was inviting one of her friends, Hanni, to go to the pool and Jay just kept his gaze protective, watching her every move as he had noticed different boys keeping their eyes on her.
All of them were on a close point of view, except Jake, the one who had invited you to this party after all.
He was the reason why you were there and now he was gone, he had been gone for a while now.
You still wondered how you were friends in the first place, you loved his friendship, but you were so different. The confident and flirty boy, who had a talent with girls, was popular in his high school and was the captain of the football team.
Meanwhile, you struggled to even keep your gaze up when you talked with people, your friend circle was tiny, small, revolving only three people. Danielle, Soobin, and of course… Jake.
"Jake?" You moved from your corner, calling out his name with a small shake in your voice. You knew nobody in the place, except for his brothers, but you were not willing to bother them.
A few bumps went on your shoulders, the people around smelling like plastic strawberry, and their scents were drawn out by the whiskeys and beers that they were drawn into.
How much did you hate alcohol!
Disgusting!
You went upstairs, still looking for your best friend. Your heart beating hard just by thinking about him, but you were also anxious to know where he was and what trouble had he gotten into.
"PARK JAEYUN! PARK JAEYUN!"
The shouts sounded like the voices of the school's football team. He was doing something stupid, you just knew that.
You opened the door of one of the rooms, to find Jake drowning himself into a shot of a clear alcoholic drink, a lot of glasses laying on the table that was right in front of him.
"AYE!" He shouted with a slurred voice.
The boys congratulated him, as if he had just won the world cup.
"I think your girlfriend's here, Jake." A guy said. He was drunk, but sober enough to have a steady voice.
The word 'girlfriend' made the butterflies in your stomach rise up from the anxiety that you were feeling. Shit!
"She's not my girlfriend, bro… But she could be." Jake got closer to you, pressing his hand on the doorway, right where you were standing. A hand on his hip, and the other on the wood of the doorway.
Hearing those words from Jake would make your heart explode. Enough! Stop getting distracted!
"Let's go, Jake!" You grabbed his hand and pulled him to your side, making him follow you.
Shit! He was drowned in alcohol, the scent of his cologne was long gone by then. It was something that you didn't like, because the scent of mint, herbs and amber was your favorite… it was because his cologne had those notes.
You dragged him outside of the house, where a bunch of cars were parked. He couldn't drive in his state, you both could get in an accident and he was your designated driver.
"Fuck! How could you get so drunk?!" You shouted, grabbing the material of the hoodie that he wore, his hair covered by the hood of it.
"I got into the moment, I lost the sense of time." "That's pretty obvious!"
With those words, you felt how Jake made you lean into the hood of a car, the car of somebody that you didn't know.
He placed his hands at each side, causing to be caged by him. "H-have I ever told you… how beautiful you are, butterfly?"
Your heart did a quick leap, your stomach clenching in anticipation.
That nickname always made you weak, to the point that you could be on your knees from your legs almost giving out.
"W-What?"
He is drunk, he doesn't mean it.
Don't get so excited about it.
"Your pretty lashes, your velvet lips, your ebony hair and your candy-like-eyes."
"F-Fuck! Especially your lips!" His hand made itself comfortable on your chin, then trailing to your lips, his thumb becoming naughty and caressing the flesh.
Get away!
His drunk! He doesn't mean it!
"Gorgeous."
You felt him dangerously close, so close that you could feel his breath in your face. His alcoholic breath could be felt on top of your lips, but you ignored it, you felt the need to kiss him so bad.
And you could feel his lips so close to yours, they were almost brushing against the other. Your breath shrieked and Jake almost inhaled your gasp in that instant.
You got him away, but he kept on feeling your scent, he was so close to tasting your pineapple lipstick, he was so close to feeling the aquatic scent of your perfume, the notes of watermelon and cucumber so close to his sensitive nose.
"We should sober you up." Your voice was about to fail. You felt it tremble in nerves, in anxiety, in expectation.
Shit!
Park Jaeyun was going to kill you someday!
#enhypen imagines#enhypen oneshots#enhypen au#enhypen ot7#enhypen#jay enhypen#sunghoon enhypen#jake enhypen#jungwon enhypen#heeseung enhypen#sunoo enhypen#niki enhypen#enhypen jake imagines#enhypen jake angst#enhypen jake fluff#enhypen jay imagines#enhypen sunghoon imagines#enhypen x reader#enhypen headcanons#enhypen smau#enhypen jake#enhypen jay#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen heeseung#enhypen sunoo#enhypen niki#enhypen jungwon#enhypen jay angst#enhypen fluff#enhypen angst
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Fallen Through Time
Part Five [3,132 words]
An AU of my completed, 400k+ word fanfic Catch the Wind [AO3], in which Elizabeth, not James, is the one to discover Theodora Byrne after she crash-lands into the world of Pirates of the Caribbean.
Also now on AO3 (restricted to registered users only thanks to AI mining, sorry!) and FF.net.
Notes re: dubious historical authenticity at the end.
Masterpost - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - *Part Five* [you’re here!]
Tag list [let me know if you want to be added!]: @missfronkensteen @dancerinthestorm @teawithshakespeare
Port Royal was gorgeous. It was something Theo had passively acknowledged when she'd watched the movies, but she'd never really stopped to properly notice it. There was always something else going on - like Jack's arrival…or Jack being shot at…or Jack stealing a ship. He had a knack for stealing the show just as happily as he did ships, she'd give him that. But he was nowhere to be seen now, and she was left basking in the beauty of the world she'd been catapulted into without warning.
Very aware of how easy it would be to get turned around if she ventured beyond the main thoroughfares - and with no wish to get lost (because, duty or no, the only way Norrington could currently hate her more would be if he had to have his men launch a search party for her) - she stuck to the main road. Following it lazily down the hill on which the Governor's mansion was situated upon, she passed a number of large stately houses, or smoothed dirt paths leading to them, likely belonging to the senior-most of the men and good ladies residing here. Those houses and paths dotted around eventually gave way to little other than foliage.
For that stretch of the walk, she was alone with her thoughts - save for the odd passing carriage, from which the passengers inside all but hung out of the window to try and catch a glimpse of her. Word of her presence here had undoubtedly spread, and the town was so small that everybody knew everybody. Plus, she was a tall redhead swanning about - for lack of less apt phrasing - in Elizabeth's clothing. It left little doubt as to who she was.
She smelled the town before she saw it, and while it was one thing to hear that towns would not have smelled great as a passing comment in historical documentaries, it was another thing entirely to experience it. Not only was it a glaring reminder of the sort of hygiene standards (or lack thereof) held by the time, along with the lack of modern plumbing, but with the addition of the smells drifting from the butcher, the fishmonger, and even the blacksmith, it did threaten to overwhelm her. It really harmed her hard-won self-perception of not being some sort of swooning delicate flower, but she tried to chalk it up to her ordeal.
Despite her hearty protests to Elizabeth that she would be fine on this little solo expedition - which were born not only out of a desire for solitude, but out of a determination not to be the sort of guest who was permanently under foot - she had to admit, once the smells hit and the heat grew worse as midday beckoned, that she might've bitten off more than she could chew. Sweat had begun to bead steadily down her neck, and there wasn't much of a breeze so that it might cool her, and she was very aware of her pulse pounding in her skull. Without the heart to turn right away and begin walking back up the hill to make the trek back to the mansion, she turned instead for the docks and sought the refreshing air she might find there.
That was all she needed – a sit down, and some peace to think things through. She'd be right as rain after that.
***
James Norrington was caught in the midst of an annoying week. Not a bad one - after all, none of his men had died over the last few days, and nobody was aiming cannons at his head, so as far as his frame of reference was concerned, all was reasonably well. No, it was just irksome. And it did not appear to be lessening when the primary source of his vexation drifted into his peripheral vision.
At first, for a slight moment, he'd mistaken her for Elizabeth Swann. She was certainly dressed like the Governor's daughter, in a white gown that he'd once noted was very becoming on its rightful owner, her hair bundled atop her head in much the same manner Elizabeth's often was, and what must have been one of Elizabeth's hats propped atop her head. But there was no mistaking the crimson hair…nor the foolishness of her actions.
James sighed, turning his gaze back down to the papers in his hand…although he did not read them.
"Lieutenant Groves."
"Yes, sir?"
"Go and inform Miss Byrne that unless she wishes to fall into the sea a second time, she must vacate that section of the docks as swiftly as possible."
"...Miss Byrne, sir? Governor Swann's guest?"
"The very one," James nodded in her direction, and Groves quickly followed his line of sight before nodding and stepping away.
Only once he'd given him long enough to vacate the ship they'd been getting back up to scratch did James look up from the papers he'd been pretending to busy himself with. He did so reluctantly - half expecting Miss Byrne to be looking right back at him, some scheme ticking behind her eyes. But she was not. In fact, she looked rather pale even despite the tan her burns had faded into, her face drained of most of its colour as one hand clung to the post beside her, her eyes shut and her chest rising and falling in quick succession as she tried to regain her composure.
Even the most talented actress could not blanch at will. They could, however, use pre-existing ailments to their advantage. But to what end? He was fairly certain she did not know he was observing her. Something too closely related to guilt flitted through his chest as he considered the matter - the dilemma - of Theodora Byrne for the thousandth time since meeting her. Their first meeting had not gone particularly well, and although Governor Swann had met him that night to plead her case (and assure him that she had been horrified when their cultural miscommunication, as Weatherby called it, was explained to her), and James was inclined to believe that. She'd have nothing to gain from purposely offending them.
Unfortunately, that was more or less the only part of anything to do with her that he was inclined to believe.
Watching with more interest than he'd own to, he saw as Groves approached the weakened section of the dock with great care, testing the boards beneath his shoes before he stepped forth. It appeared to take a few calls before Miss Byrne came to her senses and noticed him at all. Turning, she blinked at Groves as he remained a few feet safely back, gesturing towards himself as he seemed to explain that she needed to move away. No doubt a touch more gently than James would have done so himself. That might've had something to do with why James had sent him in his stead. But it also gave him much more ample opportunity to observe than he would have if he was involved. From here, he didn't have to concern himself with whether his own façade would coax hers into locking up all while he tried to monitor her and work out what exactly it was she was up to.
She certainly seemed earnest enough as she apologised profusely to Groves – who smiled and joked away her embarrassment with artful ease…and mixed results. For though she offered a smile in return, her discomfort was betrayed in how she twisted her hands in her skirts and ducked her head as Groves continued to speak. None of it rang false to James' eye, even if he tried to make it so - which, truly, he wasn't in the habit of doing. While he saw no profit in deluding himself with heedless optimism, he also saw little benefit in finding foes where none existed. Treating a misfortunate woman who needed his help like she was a criminal, all while she dwelled in the very midst of her woes, would be just as unforgiveable as failing to see ill intent if it was there.
And yet none of that helped him unpuzzle why something about…about her simply rang false to his instincts. Yes, there was the possibility that it was nothing sinister – she'd hardly be the first woman to come to Port Royal with a secret or two – but she would be the first to do so and find herself living with the Swanns. That made all of the difference. They were good people, the very best. He had no desire to see them being taken advantage of due to that fact.
So deep in thought had he been that he found himself staring back like an idiot when Miss Byrne finally sensed his gaze on her, turning her head and pinning him beneath the weight of her sharp blue-grey eyes. His comfort at being caught unguarded was that she seemed as startled to find herself on the other end of his gaze as he did hers, her eyes widening as she faltered, and then haltingly lifted a hand in a reluctant imitation of a wave.
There was little chance of him returning it. But seeing that he'd been caught observing – and that, annoyingly, Groves seemed to be in little hurry to leave their new arrival, James sighed and turned away from the rail of the ship.
***
Theo watched with disappointment, but not a great deal of surprise, when Norrington responded to her wave by not responding to her wave at all. Not even a nod was given in response, and she watch as he sighed and turned away, walking out of sight.
"I wasn't…I was…"
God, getting used to speaking in a time-appropriate manner was doing nothing to help her not sound like a bumbling idiot. Of course, what also did not help was the fact that every time Groves spoke to her, he did so with the voice of one of her favourite video game characters – one her Inquisitor had married an unspeakable number of times in Dragon Age: Inquisition – which just added a fresh, new layer to the surreal nature of being surrounded by people who should not actually exist. No offence to them. Although she supposed around here, she was the one who shouldn't actually exist, so it was all just a matter of perspective, really. Norrington seemed to be firmly settling into that opinion, at least.
After a shocking number of false starts, and a great deal of patience from Groves, she finally collected herself and achieved the glowing feat of a full sentence.
"I was feeling out of sorts, and I thought I'd sit down and…look at the ships…"
Maybe ship-spotting had caught on in the days before trainspotting was a possibility.
"Look at the ships?" he echoed with a bemused smile "Have you family in the Navy?"
"No, no – it's just an, erm, academic interest. Although not that academic considering I don't know that much."
The smile remained on Groves' face, and she was growing increasingly relieved to find that Elizabeth wasn't the only person in Port Royal to find her weirdness endearing. Not least because she still wasn't feeling entirely right, and she might need him to catch her if she passed out.
"Well, if you've any questions I'll be happy to answer them. I wouldn't go as far as to say that I'm an expert, but I do know a thing or two about ships."
"An occupational hazard, I'd guess," she said – and he chuckled and agreed. "Don't you have to get back to your captain?"
"I was sent to remove you from the dock, and to ascertain that you were well. Forgive me, but you're still worryingly pale, so I believe my job is not yet done."
He was hardly wrong. While she was feeling better than she had, she still didn't fancy her chances at successfully completing the walk back to the Governor's mansion just yet.
"What makes the Interceptor so fast? One of the fastest in the Caribbean, right?"
"The fastest," Groves corrected proudly.
Well, he could debate Jack on that matter later. Disagreeing would only make her sound like a pirate – and Groves continued before she could do so, anyway.
"She's a brig, so she's smaller and more manoeuvrable, along with having less weight to be hauled by the sails."
"I suppose you don't need the sort of guns a man-of-war packs when you're on them before they can sneeze. Or when Captain Norrington's at the helm."
Groves chuckled, "The Captain has earned his reputation, to be sure."
"I did have another question, but I think it's going to sound daft," as daft as sitting on a structurally questionable dock in front of a whole shipload of men, she supposed. "The…the bottom bit of the ship. The panels…"
"The keel?" he guessed with that same amused smile.
"Probably," she shrugged, "It looks a bit different to the others – it's inspired by Viking longships, isn't it? Is that how it gets the speed?"
His eyebrows shot up towards his wig.
"Yes, I believe so. Very good! They did revolutionise shipbuilding, and so you'd be hard-pressed to find a ship today that doesn't benefit from their methods in some way or another, but the Interceptor…she leans a bit more into that than, say, the Dauntless."
"Heathens they might have been, but there were not entirely useless."
The unmistakeable voice of Captain James Norrington joined the fray, and the nice moment she'd been enjoying of feeling like a normal person having a normal chat was shattered in an instant. Theo felt the smile on her face become a touch more strained as she turned to greet him.
"Well, even a broken clock's right twice a day, right? Hello, Captain Norrington."
"Miss Byrne. You appear much improved."
"Give me another week and I'll be able to work out for myself why this was the one completely empty dock in the port," her smile gained a sheepish quality "I'm sorry."
"It's no matter."
"Yeah- yes, well, while I'm apologising – I misspoke last time we met."
Norrington cleared his throat, "Governor Swann offered your explanation and apology both last we spoke. Do not trouble yourself with it, madam."
"I know, but it's my apology to give and so I should be the one to give it. I didn't realise what I was implying at the time, and that wasn't what I meant by it. I'm sorry. Genuinely."
"It's no matter," he repeated, "Put it from your mind, Miss Byrne."
Well. It wasn't exactly the warm and rosy acceptance she'd been hoping for. Although warm and rosy were not things she'd come to expect from Norrington in their short acquaintance, either, so she didn't feel much of a sense of loss.
"How is it that you come to know so much about ships?"
Every the straightforward one, he asked her the question bluntly before an awkward silence could even think to settle over them. Groves, at least, appeared relieved for it – it was obvious he hadn't known quite what to do with himself as she'd made her apologies to his captain.
"From a book."
Or a TV series on Amazon Prime. Same thing, really. Kind of. In a metaphorical way.
"A book? A book that you read?"
"Only when smacking it against my forehead didn't get me anywhere."
Groves covered up a laugh with a cough, but Norrington seemed far too concerned with her scandalous book-reading to send so much as a withering glare in the direction of his lieutenant. It was almost enough to stop her from noticing the way one corner of his lips just slightly twitched upwards. One of these days she'd manage to get a smile out of him. She'd settle for a smirk.
"What was the name of this book?" he levelled the question her way like it was a challenge.
Oh god, did he think she was lying about what she read now? Sure, technically she was, but this was getting a touch ridiculous.
"It…was a series of tales and legends about Ragnar Lothbrok. I forget the author. The account of how he first found the Lindisfarne monastery is fascinating, though."
Hopefully he'd realise that if this was part of her dastardly plan to earn herself a false reputation as a Viking historian in Port Royal, she'd have made up the name of an author…but she'd thrown in an errant detail just for good measure.
"I shall have to read it," he said flatly.
God, if he ever did catch her out in some sort of scheme, he'd be bloody thrilled – because so far, he'd been blatantly pissed off every time he realised she wasn't up to something.
"Right. Well. It was nice to meet you, Lieutenant Groves," she said, smoothing her skirts and preparing to make an exit.
It was becoming clear that Norrington was reluctant to leave her here – lest she go plummeting through the dock through sheer force of stupidity.
"And you, Miss Byrne," Groves, at least, offered her a smile.
"And I'm glad I got a chance to offer you my apologies in person, Captain Norrington. Thank you for hearing me out."
His brow furrowed a little at that – she'd spoken with her eyes meeting his, hoping to show him just how sincere she was. Judging by how he faltered, he saw it. The furrow in his brow lessened, and then he finally offered her a nod and a 'have a pleasant day, Miss Byrne' that didn't even sound like a thinly veiled 'piss off'.
They remained on the dock behind her when she took her leave, and Norrington must've underestimated the scope of her hearing, for once he thought she was out of earshot, he asked Groves quietly.
"Tell me, Lieutenant, what do you make of Miss Byrne?"
"Miss Byrne, sir?"
"Yes."
"I…I suppose I found her rather charming."
The silence that evoked wad nothing short of deafening.
Notes: The ship trivia here is 90% invention based tenuous fact. If it's accurate, that's a stroke of pure luck, but it's probably not. Just a mild disclaimer. Leaning into the 'fantasy' aspect of historical fantasy here lolol.
#catch the wind#ctw#james/theodora#james and theodora#fallen through time esta-elavaris#ftt#james norrington/oc#james norrington x oc#pirates of the caribbean fanfic#pirates of the caribbean fanfiction#james norrington fanfiction#james norrington fanfic
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TLK prompt 10 ‘who hurt you?’ With Uhtred please??
Note: You didn't write me whether with Reader or a character, I chose F!Reader. :)
Pairing: Uhtred x F!Reader
Summary: Your day gets worse and worse and just at the moment when you don't need it, everything bursts out of you. But uhtred is there for you and suddenly you have to pull yourself together despite your feelings so that everything doesn't get out of control.
"There she is" - "Yes, and just as ugly as she had left the village" The two women started laughing. "You'd better leave her, or she'll run to Uhtred again" - "Yes, that's right, like last time" again they laughed. You ignore them as much as you can, but they don't stop.
"She's probably a nun now, because the priests converted her." - "She was a nun before, nobody touches her." They laughed again when you finally looked at them, but at that moment you regretted it, because now they started to move.
"Do you still think you are something better, just because you get orders from Uhtred" - "She is only in Uhtred's favor until he has had enough of her" again they laughed and only now you stop and looked at them. Astonished, the women stopped and wait with pinched expressions for your attack.
You pull yourself together and take a deep breath, not a word would you waste on them, when you turn around you hear their laughter, but they did not follow you anymore. Actually you wanted to report to Uhtred, but fearing that the tears would come, you decide to react first in a training with Finan. You knew that he was training with Osferth at that time.
Even if you didn't feel like it, you preferred to go there first. The men were laughing when you found them on a small square in front of the boats, Osferth was lying in the sand and wiping his wet face, but that didn't help, because Sihtric again threw a bucket of water in his face.
"Wake up Osferth, you can't fight when you're half asleep" When they saw you, they greet you warmly, just what you needed so badly at that moment and you forget about the women, who made your life hell every moment they saw you. You didn't know when they started, nor why they hated you so much.
"I just got back and I couldn't resist taking part in your little fight" - "Are you sure?" came from Sihtric, he looked at you urgently, as if he knew what was on your mind. You just nodded and saw Finan helping Osferth to his feet. You are not a warrior, but now and then it helped you to lose some energy in training and sometimes to put all your hate in your punches, no matter which of the men was in front of you.
Now and then you won, but surely only because they let you win and wanted to make you feel that you were one of them. But that day, it didn't go well for you, and Finan didn't spare you either, as a welcome that you were back. You knew that in a training session, you could get a lot of bruises, even that some blood could flow.
But today was just a stupid day and you had the feeling after the training, that the men hated you as much as the women. They apologize when they noticed that you were sad and Finan said you can hit him and hurt him. But you didn't.
With a busted lip and eyebrow, doctored by Osferth and the words of Sihtric that next time you should please watch your posture, you finally made your way to Uhtred. You felt worse than before and you regretted not going to Uhtred before.
You exhaled and inhaled more times in front of his door, your eyes wandered over the village and a heavy feeling settled on your chest, what if it was really like that? What if you didn't really belong here and were only needed because you reliably transported letters and other things back and forth? What if you were no longer here, would anyone even miss you?
It didn't help, you had to see Uhtred. Just to tell him you were back. So that he could count on you when he needed you and you are happy to do that. Nevertheless, you remain standing in front of the door. With the pain in your face and the women gossip in your ears. You feel miserable. You open the door after some time, the moment you thought you would be fine.
There he stood, thoughtful as always, in front of the fire, his brow furrowed, and your tears came, only when you take a deep breath, so you could hold them back, he looked up and smiled, he greeted you and walked towards you.
You knew if he hugged you, you wouldn't be able to hold back your tears. Because he made you feel comfortable and welcome, he knew something wasn't right when you took a step back and your face must have helped him, to know, something is not right.
"What happened? Who was that?" he said angrily, his friendly face giving way to a serious and angry one. "Nobody, it's nothing" you said and started to cry, you Feeling so Bad."Who hurt you?" he just said and grabbed you by the shoulders. His stance and face told you he was ready to fight anyone and anything that might come.
"Were those the priests?" he now asked cautiously, probably because he didn't believe it himself. He took your face tenderly in his hands and looked deep into your tear-stained face. "No no... it all went well, they said they would forward the message and you can count on them" he just nodded.
"And why are you crying? you know I can't see you cry" he kissed yours forehead and wiped the tears from your face "Nothing, I just don't feel good" - "And that?" he asked and you knew he meant the wounds.
"I thought I'd feel better if I train out a bit" suddenly he got serious, he let go of you "So one of my men..." hatred showed in his eyes, something you hadn't seen before when he talked about his men and you knew you had to pull yourself together as he made his way to the door.
"I'll give him hell" - "No, please i wanted to train" he turned around when you grabbed his arm "So you wanted to be hurt like that?" you shake your head in amazement. Actually you wanted to beat up Finan, but that day it was the other way around, your own fault according by Sihtric. "Then I'll beat him up," he said, opening the door.
But you hurl the door and close her again "I'm not crying because of the training" he looked at you questioningly and you knew you had to tell him and explain your concerns and it would take a long time. You talked about the women, about the thoughts they triggered in you.
Uhtred was there, he listened to you, said that you have an important place in his village and that he didn't use you because you were important to him. You spoke so openly with your feelings as if you had known each other for a long time and after a while you felt much better.
And your conversation didn't end until he was sure you were back to normal. The women, on the other hand, were not doing so well that day, they were excluded from the community, they had to leave the village and at some point you heard that they were not only banned from one but from almost all villages, they fled to the Danes, but her life was never the same.
Finen and Sihtric had to wrap up warm, even when you tried to talk Uhtred about doing nothing, he wouldn't let it like this. They had to compete against him in training for a week and their bruises showed for a long time.
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Sypnosys: Rosemary White won the 64th hunger games for District 4. she was only a year older than Finnick Odair when he was reaped when she done everything to protect her lover. As time passed, it was time for the Quarter Quel. Rosemary had done everything in her power to keep Finnick alive, but everything she's tried to do only made it seem as if it was just all for nothing.
Set in hunger games catching fire
Pairings; Finnick x secret wife! Reader(hunger games catching fire)
Warning(s): Prostitution, angst, secret marriage, blood, violence, cursing, pregnancy, implied smut, death.
Chapter one
Masterlist: coming soon
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Rosemary had been doing everything in her power to make peace with Snow. She wanted Finnick safe, to end the games. The only way that she could protect him is by selling herself to pleasure the men or women in the Capitol. Other nights she would be singing songs. Some were from the past, most were songs written about the love she has with Finnick Odair.
The only times the two ever see each other is when they were being mentors. Her mother taught her how to play guitar, and taught her how to read. Her father taught her how to fish, her father was best friends with Finnick Odair's. They were taught together how to fish, as they became experts the two would always have competitions to see who caught the most fish.
At the age of seventeen Finnick and Rosemary secretly got married, nobody knew, not even their parents. Secretly getting married by the little meadow.
Now seven years later Rosemary and Finnick were hardly ever able to be together. Rosemary was performing more often, almost every night in fact. The only times she's ever been able to see Finnick, as every Victor would come and see Rose perform.
Today was the first day that Rosemary was able to have her time to herself. Waking up early, the sun was barely over the horizon as she looked out the window. A cool breeze ghosting against her skin as she could smell the salty ocean. It was a perfect day to go fishing, after the heavy rainfall from last night she knew that there would be a ton of fish out.
When she pulled the plush blanket off of her body, her bare skin nipped at the feeling of cool air hitting her skin. She pushes her blonde curls behind her ears as she makes her way towards her closet. There were many dresses, from all different colors whenever she had to perform. But most of the time she would wear a pair of shorts and a long sleeve Watership. She didn't bother to wear shoes as she lived by the sea.
Carefully sneaking out of her room, being careful to take note of the squeaky wood. She may be in her early twenties, but she still had many rules she had to follow. If she woke up early, then she'd have to start her day. And she promised Finnick that she'd meet her by the beach.
With a sigh of relief Rosemary didn't have to tiptoe anymore. Her feet were flat against the gravel ground. The smell of saltwater filled her nose as she heard the sound of the ocean crashing. She noticed the family figure of Finnick as she felt a smile tugging her pink lips.
She makes her way slowly, wanting to make this moment last as long as possible. They had four hours till everyone woke up, being as it was late in the night she knew they would wake up to find her missing.
Rosemary snuck behind Finnick, her fingers poking his sides causing him to jump. A squeal left her lips when he grabbed her waist and the two fell in the sand. The both of them were laughing as Finnick had a hand behind her head.
“Good morning.” She whispered, his forehead resting against hers as their lips ghost against the other.
“Good morning.” Tired brown eyes staring lovingly into icy blue ones.
Her eyes barely stayed open as sleep still took over.
“Did you sleep well?” His thumb caressed her cheek, almost making her fall asleep at the comfort of being in his arms.
“Honestly?” Finnick nods his head, as she huffs.
“I performed for over three hours last night, which is the reason why I'm not able to speak much this morning. And the other part, I had to sleep with a disgusting man from the capitol.” Finnick's grip on her waist tightened, his arm tensing as she looked into his eyes.
“We could run away.” She said, not liking the murderous look in his eyes. Her finger rested on his bottom lip as her other hand was playing with his dirty brown curls.
“If only it were possible.” Rosemary could feel her chest tightening.
“It's never going to happen, huh?” She smiled sadly, her eyes glossing as she could feel the salty warm tears falling.
“Don't cry.” He rasped, his thumbs rough against her cheeks as he tried to wipe away the tears.
“I hate this, what if I accidentally get pregnant, and it's not ours? What if you get pregnant, what happens next? Our parents think we should've separated a long time ago, saying this is too risky.” Rosemary lets out an ugly sob as she brings him into a hug. His body crushed hers, but she didn't care.
“Hey, hey, hey.” She shakes her head, wanting him off of her now as she begins to feel too hot.
Her chest tightening, her body felt like it was going to swallow her. Her body felt like it was on fire, as she pushed him off of her. Everything was too much, it was all too much.
“Please, please.” She sobbed, Finnick rolled off of her as she began to heave.
She turns onto her stomach and jumps up to run and throw up. Finnick scrambles to his feet and rushes towards her. He pushes back her blonde hair as she hurls.
“You've been throwing up a lot lately, are you sure you're not-” Finnick couldn't finish the sentence, not wanting to hear them.
“Last night was the first guy I've slept with since you and I. When was the last time we did it?” She asked, fingers shaking.
“Three weeks ago.” Rosemary runs her hand over her mouth as she gnaws on her cheek.
“What if it isn't yours?” Guilt plagues her mind as she stares at him in horror.
“I won't be mad, not at you. Never you.” He assured, hands cupping her face as she stared into his eyes seeing if he was lying.
“We should go to town later, I'll get Temperance to buy me a test or something. She'd do it.” She clears her throat, the leftover taste of bile coming in strong.
“Okay.” He bites his lip, as she looks up at him.
“Okay.” She said, as if to confirm their plan.
“Temperance has been very diligent lately. She's been helping me a lot, I feel like she knows something that I don't.” Rosemary half joked.
“Why do you think that?” Rosemary shrugged, but she could feel it in the pit of her stomach.
“A hunch.” Finnick nodded his head, knowing the exact feeling.
Finnick went to lean in for a kiss, but she pushed him back. A hand on his chest as he pouts.
“I just threw up last night's dinner, do you really want to kiss me?” Finnick rolled his eyes but threw a tantrum like a child.
“When have I ever cared?” He wasn't wrong, but still it was gross.
“You're disgusting!” She exclaimed, with a giggle.
“No, I just love you.” She could see the love in his eyes, and couldn't help but feel all mushy inside.
“I love you.” She said sincerely, her hand on his bare chest as she leaned forehead to kiss his cheek.
“Woah, your breath really does smell.” He joked, as she slapped his bare skin.
“Fuck you.” She grumbled.
“Already had.” He gives her a flirtatious smirk, and his eyes twinkled with a playfulness in his eyes.
“The sun is rising, I should get going. The Capitol awaits “ She chuckled, and it wasn't a happy chuckle, it was sad, and isolated.
“Please don't go with anyone today. Not until we know what's wrong.” Finnick pleads, as he looks lost.
“I'll try, Temperance is usually good at convincing Snow. Hopefully she could convince him.” Finnick kisses her forehead.
A soft yet firm kiss. One that would leave her breathless as they'd say their goodbyes.
“I love you.” She whispered loud enough for only him to hear.
“I love you.” He whispered back, as she begins to walk away.
#Finnick odair series#finnick x oc reader#finnick x reader#hunger games#hunger games catching fire#tumblr fyp
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The first Christmas “without,” Pt. 2
Happy Candlemas! Here’s Part 2, and remember, you can still technically say Merry Christmas until 11:59/23:59 tonight
When - Part 1 was 35ish minutes after A fu---n’ great Christmas, which takes place in between season 2 and 3. Part 2 is approximately 3 minutes after Part 1 ends. We’ve made a brief time skip from souls stripped bare.
What - the first major holiday without loved ones is hard. The first major holiday without loved ones because one of your loved ones was killed by another loved one is somewhat harder. (for those who are newer Slowpokes, Shane was your older brother)
**Note that some plot points haven’t actually been published yet, they are merely discussed or alluded to because the series is non linear**
Relationships - slow burn Daryl x Reader always, therefore you’re still snuggled in the mangy hick’s poncho and wishing your crush away, but this chapter was focused more on the found-family aspect of the series. Part 2 specifically deals with your familial relationship with Rick -- and how much hurt and anger you’re still working through after what happened with Shane.
Perspective - 2nd person You, 3rd Him (Daryl)
Pronouns? - they/them
TWs? - some foul language, memories about the farm getting overrun (without gore), anger over a family member being killed by another family member, discussion of grieving, and more of my dumb using-dreams-to-relay-past-events as found in That mangy hick!
Word count - longer than Part 1, but if you read both together, do set aside some downtime and get comfy and snuggly in something cozy. Dare I say, in a poncho, perhaps?
What stories to read or reread - “All of them!” the author cackles Part 1, of course, A fu--in’ great Christmas, The Chicken Swim, Too much thinking before bed, Part 2 and Ain’t nothing... are the ones most pertinent to this chapter.
Check out the Masterlist, slowpoke, it’s got all the published chapters and reader requests :)
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3 minutes later, after discussing a possible chicken swim/penguin plunge with Glenn before you left him to the music and walked back alone slowly
Okay, maybe remembering your chicken swim with Amy, when Shane so diligently stood watch from the shore with a canoe at the ready (and Daryl saw you swim in a t-shirt, shorts, and socks), maybe remembering that put you back at square one, because before you know it, the pendant is in your hands again.
You just feel so off.
T-Dog and Carol are sitting at the fire outside now. Aw, T-Dog took off his Santa hat. He’s still in the red Dawgs shirt Daryl gave him, though.
As you rub the ‘22’ between your fingers and over your lips, you greet the two of them with a (yawn and a) “Hey y’all, how’s the turkey going?”
Carol waves her fingers and smiles.
Ooh yummy, what are they making? They seem to be mixing…you aren’t sure what in the bowl, but it’s mushy. Boiled and mashed tubers, maybe? If so, that’s good, Carol has been craving starch like it’s nobody’s business.
“Hershel’s almost done with his tea, then he’ll use that meter thingy,” she lets you know, right before T-Dog teases, “Glenn’s and your bickering about him again was a fun surprise.”
He gets a mildly British-sounding response out of you. “Yes, we had a lovely time.”
“Who won this round?” he chuckles. “I asked Glenn already, but wanna to compare your answers.”
“Neither of us.” Well, come to think of it, “Mr. Greene.”
“Ha! See that, Carol? Same answer, I gotta tell Hersh about this, just a sec.”
While he pokes his head into the little building and announces his findings, you sigh at Carol. That’s when you notice that there’s…no turkey in sight. Which is a little concerning, where’d it go?
Oh no, it wasn’t all wormy, right?
You stare into space as you rub, rub, rub the pendant. Well, the smaller cooler is kinda sitting on the ground in the middle of everything, so you use that as your chair.
“The meat’s brining in there, if you’re wondering,” Carol explains.
Ah, got it. Phew.
She yawns as she goes into it a little more. “We don’t want a repeat of that wild turkey we had what, about a month ago at this point? Oh my—at Thanksgiving. Golly, I forgot about Thanksgiving,” she mumbles to herself.
“There was no fat on the poor, sad thing. Nasty,” T-Dog narrates, catching her yawn on his way back with a dishtowel, and covering the bowl of mushy stuff with it. “Though, we did a fair job on it, gotta say.”
You nod. You’d actually really enjoyed it, but maybe that’s because you were really hungry? Ah, and you’ve caught the yawn, now. Yawns really are contagious.
Carol and him keep chatting. “Mmhm, very little fat, and that was a month ago. Having one now, this late in the season—”
“—Could be even more nasty, we gotta be extra careful,” T-Dog finishes for her. “Y’all caught a big boy, though,” he says to you, “this guy was plump. I have a good feelin’ about him.”
Nodding away, Carol starts talking about how “My great aunts and my meemaw knew how to cook it well. When I was a girl, that’s what we ate at Thanksgiving and Easter.”
“Thank the Lord I was a city boy,” he announces, cracking up. “We had good stuff like glazed ham, mm, I didn’t have to eat none of that wild, gamey turkey.”
“They’d make four different types of gravy to go with our wild turkey.”
“Four? You’re gonna make my stomach growl even louder, now, Carol. Y/N, the woman is trying to torture me, I know it.” T-Dog is even more adorable when he’s crushing on someone, hot damn. He’s a tad too old for you personally, but everybody here knows you think he’s a catch. Probably even him, if you’re being frank. “My uncle, he had this recipe for cornmeal gravy—outta this world. You and I should have a gravy-off, get some heft back on our people’s bones.”
She tilts her head in consideration but looks hesitant before asking, “Should I try and send the six of you out on a supply run for some grease and flour?”
You’d be down. “I’d be down.” If anything but to stop Carl, Beth, and Lori from losing any more weight. Oh Moses, wait up —“If we find cornmeal, is there a way to make hushpuppies?”
“Find more oil, I’ll try,” Carol is quick to offer, yawning again. “Are you gonna head to the cars for a nap? I know I’m going to once the cooki—um, what’s in the bowl, once these are done.”
T-Dog just snickers. “Same, we all need more sleep after last night. So, Y/N,” he turns to you, “everytime we talk about food, it’s the hushpuppies, gummy sharks, that puffcorn stuff, or applesauce for you. Or Indian food. Or bananas. Oh right, or peanut butter tomato sandwiches.”
Carol groaned with you when he said the last one; you’re both fans of those and you’re both belly-aching for some food.
“I crave what I crave, Teddy.”
“Plus catfish nuggets, am I wrong?” he guffaws (yes, ‘guffaws’).
“…To go with the hushies.”
“And cheesy curls, can’t forget. Oh, and corn dogs—you got a corn thing, don’t you?”
Which is entirely true, but you’d also go for a plain, grilled hot dog, oh my gosh. “Been hungry, Breakfast King,” you snark back.
He cracks up and holds his hands open. “I earned that title. I made the best eggs y’all ever had that day, powdered or otherwise, admit it. The grits were creamy and lush, go on. Whoever stocked the CDC knew to get clarified butter down there, made all the difference.” He puffs out his chest slightly. “But I coulda swung it outta the park even without.”
You share a nod with Carol as your fingers grasp the pendant again. “It was best breakfast I’d ever eaten.” All true. Objectively, food-wise.
After about two months with no cheese or much food-food, given the supply chain issues due to the world effectively collapsing, the spread T-Dog made for breakfast at the CDC was heavenly. Would’ve been really good even during the before-times. How he got those powdered eggs to taste so fresh, you don’t know.
Those not so good memories, however, are really poking a stick in the gears, though. You can faintly hear the tink, tink, tink of your chain as you pull the pendant back and forth, back and forth. An uneasy, sick feeling twists in your belly when you remember it.
It was a barely two hours after breakfast when you’d all nearly died and Jacqui and Dr. Jenner committed suicide. Then about two months later, you’d finally learned why Shane had broken down wailing and Lori had looked shell shocked and scared the night before.
Shane wasn’t really one to get drunk, yet he had that night. He was going a little crazy, you guess, and things had been, um…
Your brother wasn’t a bad person, he wasn’t. He just lost himself and thought he couldn’t come back.
But when Shane spilled to you that awful night at Hershel’s farm what he’d started blindly trying to do to Lori at the CDC, your first reaction came from deep within. You didn’t see a man you recognized, and you thought you hated the man you did see. You may have actually hated Shane for a short while. Almost as much as you hated Rick when you knew for certain that he’d killed him.
“Careful not to break the chain,” Carol gently murmurs, perking you out of it.
Shoot, you’d been doing the tuggy pully thing again. Sometimes, when you start thinking about what happened, you end up squeezing and rubbing Shane’s ‘22’ pendant too hard when you tug and pull it back and forth.
Okay yeah, you’re falling hard back into that intense anger about what happened, it’s not good. You cannot sink back down into that unhappy, unhealthy place.
And you really don’t want to break the chain, so: you ignore your growing frustration that you can’t just get over it already, then imagine a stupid tea kettle being taken off the stupid burner before thinking your stupid mantra again.
…I don’t hate Rick…I don’t hate Rick, I love him, I love my Rick, Rick is my brother…you love him, Y/N, you don’t hate him…you don’t hate Shane, either…now take the kettle off the burner…you don’t hate either of them…you don’t hate Rick…it’s okay if you want to cry, just remember that you don’t hate Rick, you love Rick…
“Hey guys,” Glenn calls over, further helping you snap back to reality. Maggie’s hand in his, he returns the music player and thanks you. “Gonna crash for a little while in the Chevy, I think.”
With a slow exhale, you bring yourself back to whatever the heck was going on before this, something to do with food, right?
Right, yeah, breakfast at the CDC.
It’s true, T-Dog had indeed made bananas-good food the morning at the CDC. And that was with a total lack of (actual bananas, and) potatoes, sausage (therefore gravy), fresh cheese, you could go on for a while.
“Man, the things I’d do for some eggs,” you hear him groan. You turn to see him quickly look away from you.
Ah, you’d though the delivery sounded a touch too emphatic; T-Dog was putting on extra in trying to revert your attention back to lighthearted stuff. Guess your internal mantra-break was noticeable. Also, that darn tuggy pully thing.
Whatever, he’s distracting you with all his food talk because he cares. “Scrambled eggs,” he details, “with sautéed onions and pimento cheese, and bacon or chorizo, obviously. Buttered marble rye, fluffy biscuits with some white gravy. Hashbrowns…”
You peek over at Carol. Her cravings are usually for potatoes, overcooked macaroni salad, or anything from Waffle House. The woman just wants some starch and to not have to cook, dude.
Last night, that 16oz can of potatoes she’d used with Christmas Eve dinner had been *heaven* for her. The sharing of it, however, that part was more like ‘purgatory,’ so she joked in the car late last night after you’d all escaped the herd.
She looks wistful for a moment, then says to T-Dog, “Other than you and Rick, everyone here knows what leaves and stalks to look for. We’re bound to come across some potato plants in a backyard garden one of these days.”
“And I will make you hashbrowns to die for.”
Carol cringes in her shy, polite way. He’d chosen the wrong descriptive verb choice. “Maybe not that good, T-Dog.”
“Aw man, uh, hashbrowns to ‘cry over,’” he rephrases it. “Hold up — we could do a hashbrown bowl like at Waffle House!”
Now she’s got on her shy, dainty smile. “Perfect.”
T-Dog then turns his gaze over to you. “Now, Y/N, Rick’s coming back with Daryl.”
Ugh, please not now, Teddy.
You know what he’s gonna suggest, and you don’t want to. You did your mantra thing, that’s plenty.
I don’t hate Rick, I don’t hate Rick, I don’t hate Rick, I love Rick…
“Go over there and remind yourself you don’t hate him,” he directs.
Which you deflect with a lame, “Daryl don’t prefer hugs.”
Which in turn, earns you a look. “You know who I mean,” T-Dog tuts. “Hug your brother — and don’t go telling me he ain’t your real brother, I know full well you was raised not caring about that stuff and that it don’t matter these days anyhow. Now go on, go hug him, or something.” He sighs and gestures to you. It’s much less stern when he next says, “I think the holiday is starting to get to you. And you’ve got somethin’ particular going on.”
Yeah, yeah, the first holiday ‘without,’ you get it.
But apparently you must have huffed out loud, because T-Dog next hums nuh-uh and cautions, “Don’t you go getting huffy at me, now, troublemaker.”
“We had Thanksgiving, that was a major holiday.”
“Wasn’t the same, you were completely focused on Hershel then.”
Okay, fair, but, “Okay fair, but we’re all having the first Christmas w-with-wi—” it takes you a few times with your fucking stress stutter, “—without a bunch of loved ones, I ain’t special.”
Sure, Glenn got a little testy and had a good cry, but he’s still chill. Carol’s not acting like a baby about her first Christmas without her daughter, and T-Dog himself isn’t acting like a baby about having no one he knew before the outbreaks.
So why is he acting like you’ve got something ‘particular going on’ today? Are you that fragile? You were having a (fuckin’) great Christmas, Daryl even said it!
Yet, as vulnerable and therefore mad about it as you feel, you can’t stay upset.
Not after the way Teddy so plainly but delicately points out, “Our situations are different.”
It stops you in your tracks and makes fact that he was once an intimidating defensive back and occasional running back for the Bulldogs seem unbelievable. You also begin to feel less…ashamed, that you’re still so fucking broken after what happened. The situation with Shane is different.
…I don’t hate Rick, I don’t hate Rick, I don’t hate Shane, I love them both, please help me remember that I’m just angry again right now, I don’t really hate Rick, I love him so much…
You’re back to fiddling with the ‘22’ pendant, but it’s cool, you aren’t tugging on the chain this time.
“Go on, or I’ll make you two wear a get-along shirt,” Carol prompts. “Oh, and don’t mention the cookie batter, T-Dog, Beth and I want to keep it a surprise.”
“The what, now?”
......................
Him
Y/N is walking over.
That they’re wearing the hat he gave them made him wanna stand taller, and that they’re still in his poncho made him feel warm. It was a warmth unrelated to the fact that they’d switched coats earlier today.
Weird thing is, Y/N seemed cozier in his poncho underneath their zip-up hoodie than they’d seemed in their own oversized, old, woolly, fluff-lined jacket. It didn’t make much sense to him, but his poncho was pretty sweet and it reached longer down Y/N’s body, which would keep their butt warm and all that.
Y/N’s coat is nice. Old, but that made it better. Except, when Rick saw him wearing the coat, he’d frozen like he’d seen a ghost then got this glazed kinda look in his eyes.
Seeing the jacket on somebody who filled it out properly was prolly what done it. It, um, originally it had been Y/N and Shane’s dad’s jacket. After their dad died, maybe 16ish years ago, their ma would wear it around to remember him, then Shane started wearing it as his coat. So really, it was Shane’s for all those years.
Yeah, the coat has some baggage. Comfy though.
“It’s a good jacket,” was all Rick said before he blinked a few times and lead him on a short walk to discuss the food and security brief he had with T-Dog, Glenn, and Maggie earlier. He and Y/N missed the info when they were hunting that turkey.
Maybe it helped Rick zen out about food a little when Daryl ripped up some cattail tubers they passed. Carol really misses potatoes, and those roots are real starchy, so it’ll be close enough. It was one of the first things that crossed his mind when they got here last night and he saw the small lake.
“What roots are those?” Y/N calls to him, pointing.
Hey—what happened? Y/N looks like the wind got knocked out of them, they don’t look cheerful and happy at all. He’d only been with them around the fire like an hour ago, things were fine.
Is Hershel good? Did Y/N fight with Glenn agai—oh, never mind, got it; Shane’s chain is sticking out of their hoodie. They fidget with it more when they’re upset, usually when thinking about their dead brother and shit.
They’ve been doing pretty okay, so, dunno, maybe it’s just the holiday getting to them.
“Cattail,” he lets them know.
That nice feeling tickles his chest again when, with their mouth opens in recognition and a much happier look spreads on their face. They point at the tubers. “That’s the one we can use like a potato, then?”
He just smiles and nods; they’re on the same wavelength as him on this one, point proven when they look back at the fire for a sec before grinning and resting their hands on their hips. “Teddy said he’d make her hashbrowns, and we got enough oil and salt for those, some leftover flour if need be.” Their gaze switches to Rick. “Are there any other ingredients we’ll need for hashbrowns?”
Were they uncomfortable when they asked him that, or was that just his imagination?
Also, why would they ask Rick? Everybody knows how to make a hashbrown, it’s a cut-up potato fried in a pan.
“Lore sometimes made them on Pancake Sundays,” Rick offered.
That’s gotta be an inside joke because next, them and Rick start to crack up.
Scrunching their nose, Y/N giggles (and seems genuine about it). “Ain’t her fault her grandma had two terrible pancake recipes.”
“She didn’t have to follow the recipes every Sunday.”
“Especially buckwheat ones, oh, they were like dry little penances, Daryl,” Y/N fills him in, “he’s not full-wrong.” Turning back to Rick, they seem uncomfortable again when they say, “I’m gonna go crash for a bit before choring, but um, let’s listen to music together soon. It’ll be nice to do it at the lakeside.” An awkward kind of pause follows, then they go, “Hey, um, I never had hashbrowns at your place, were they, um, were they, w-were they good?”
“I mean, compared to the pancakes…” Rick trails off. He looks uncomfortable, too, but he’s trying to keep the joke going.
But Y/N must not like all the teasing about Lori’s cooking or whatever, because they stop looking as amused when they slowly repeat “Ricky, were they good?”
It looks like his head is getting heavy to hold up, the way it’s drooping some. He gives Y/N a sad kind of smile, the way people do when they’re apologizing. “Carl, Lore and I would eat the whole plate.”
.......................
You
Fine, maybe T-Dog is right. The day is getting to you maybe just possibly a pinch.
As you stomp over to the cars, you look back at T-Dog at the fireside and hold up a thumb with one hand and lift the other open-palmed to ask him if he was satisfied or not.
He makes no gesture back at first, then makes a shrug and holds his thumb up.
Whatever. You throw open the door to the backseat of the Dodge, hop in, position the bright blue scarf into the door and yank it shut to show that you’re in there, then tuck yourself into the blanket and burrow into your pillow.
You love your stupid brother (yes, the one named Rick) so much, and-and things have been fine!
Of course it would be on Christmas that you’d be acting like a little idiot bitch…but making fun of a spouse’s cooking isn’t your brand of humor, either, that was kind of a dick move from the dicktator.
Ricky-dicky doo, Ricky-pricky poo, Rickety-doo-dah…
Oh, right, um—when the bad things happened, you’d gone full postal, blindly wandered away, and got drunk for the first time. You’d started chanting something along those lines, then you’d made new lyrics to that ancient Disney song. Ridiculous and immature? Yes, but you were in a truly bad place.
Though, you are secretly proud of one insult you’d made after your world had gone blank: “Three cheers for Rick, putting the ‘dick’ in dictator!”
By God above, you’d thought that you’d hated him so much.
Well, really it’s only T-Dog who’s of the mind that you didn’t actually hate him; you know that you did.
You have to adjust the pillow and flip to your back instead of your side. With the heel of your boot you then tap the lock shut for some ensured privacy, in case they don’t notice the bright blue warning scarf.
Hershel and Lori get it. Hershel simply reminds you about “mercy,” reminds you that you don’t hate Rick anymore, and will say a prayer. Lori encourages you to spend time together with him or more time with Carl.
You wish Dale were still here, and remember that you need to wind his watch and pray the “kad-ish” for him today. Dale would know what to say and do, could teach you how to get a grip. Heck, maybe the fact that he’d just died back when it all happened had been a catalyst for how deep you’d dived.
It had been so bad at first. Your hatred and all that dark stuff had been so thorough and you’d felt so completely empty and lost that you’d…
…you’d left the group.
You’d left your Carl. It was that fucking complete.
That bad, bad night, you’d attacked Rick, insulted him, threatened him. The others had to take your weapons away, they’d also had to restrain you, a lot. Something in you just fucking snapped when you knew what Rick did to your brother. To his own brother.
And you’d been hoping he’d off you, too, but he didn’t. Didn’t pull his gun or his knife, even with your encouragements.
Then you accidentally broke him. That’s the term you think best describes what he looked like. It was like a short-circuit.
All it took was three words, “So was he.”
He’d been trying to tell you that he was still your brother, he still loved you. Each response you made to him was simple enough, but each somehow acted like a tranq dart.
Maybe it’s because you’re so tired, but you can call to mind so vividly how words couldn’t seem to formulate in your head when you managed to utter “So was he.” Then the way your breathing had sped up and your voice started shaking and getting louder when you pushed back more against what he was saying with “So did he,” and how quickly it was followed by your stuttered, “Oh Ricky, s-so did I. I loved you so much...”
And the final phrase, basic as it was, it wasn’t screamed or cursed, the “I hate you.” Those words stunned you when you thought them, they confounded you as you spoke them.
Okay, pump the brakes a sec. Did you just think the word “confounded” to describe how you’d felt?
Are you writing an English essay? Lol, take a breather, dude. You need to stop thinking about that night and get some rest, you’ll feel much better. “Confounded.” At least you’re smiling in embarrassment now.
Time to relax. You tighten all the muscles you can think of, then relax them. Tighten all your muscles, slowly, slowly, then relax. Tighten, relax.
You pray for strength and all that stuff while trying to picture happy things. Like when those two bunnies scurried past Daryl and you on a hunt and he didn’t notice them. When Carl woke up after his surgery. When Amy and you did the chicken swim. When Shane — no, no, this isn’t a happy memory, shit, no, this is when you saw who what was once Shane stand up — you can’t seem to shift away from the memory!
You didn’t know what was wrong at first. You’d seen Shane’s expression and assumed he’d gotten sacked in the jaw. Then you saw the color of his eyes. Even from the distance, it was plain as day that they weren’t his dark brown ones. They were those strange, terrible, light milky blue ones.
He’d turned.
To call out to Rick so that he could defend himself didn’t compute at the time; you’d forgotten about breathing never mind shouting. You simply stared as Shane your brother’s body reached and prowled toward Rick as you clung to Carl’s shirt so he wouldn’t leave your sight.
In your side vision, you noticed your nephew drawing his gun, and thankfully there was enough rattling around in your brain that you knew to unclasp your hand from the death grip you’d had on his shirt so you could guide and steady his aim. That way it would be less likely for Rick to accidentally get injured when Carl and you put down your brother’s body.
The memory of the loud pop of the handgun and the slight recoil makes your hands twitch — oh, thank God! You’re staring at the car’s ceiling.
You’re awake, it was just a dream. Explains why it all got so vivid, ugh, thank God.
Okay, happy thoughts, happy thoughts, good memories…
Holding your newborn niece for the first time while your brother-in-law cradled your middle sister in his arms. Mama squeaking when the new chicks hatched because they were so small and sweet. That time Shane and you were given all of the leftover catfish and hushpuppies free of charge from your local spot at 11:08pm because you’d both had very bad days.
Shane...
The scene changes. You’re not in his Jeep outside the catfish joint anymore, you’re looking at his corpse. Ugh, that revolting word. ‘Corpse.’
You’re staring at the stab wound. You didn’t recognize it as such back then, what would you know about differentiating that stuff? You figured it was a clean bite or whatever the fuck — you don’t know, you’d been numb. You’d been confused. The things that Shane had been saying earlier that night, they didn’t make sense. And you’d heard raised voices before you (and Carl) had found your brother’s corpse rising up and making for Rick.
Little doubts and red flags and warnings had started to gather to whiz around your head like flies on roadkill as you stared at the wound and his body, it was a disgusting mess in your mind.
Then, the only word that really stuck out in it was the word ‘shovels.’
Shovels were what you needed. To bury the dead, that’s what was needed.
Carl, you, and that murderer your brother? Rick were trudging back to the farm. You’d needed to find the shovels to bury Shane and you’d needed to get Carl back to his mama.
Except, then the herd came shuffling across the fields and slowly mowed through the livestock fencing.
You know you’re asleep, but you can’t really wake up right now. But, the walkers in the distance quickly disappear in your mind’s eye because you smell...smoke?
The barn is on fire. The barn, there’s smoke coming from the barn, the barn is on fire!
Rick.
Rick had lit the damned barn on fire with him and Carl still in there after you’d sprinted back to the house to get the RV. The plan was you, as in you personally, would risk it and run and get them down from the hayloft by driving the RV. You were faster, and Rick was the better shot, so he’d stay with Carl and keep him alive, you’d sprint to get the RV. There was nothing about a goddamn fire, but Rick had the bright (no, pun not fucking intended) idea to set one.
So, Jimmy ended up driving, you were the spotter — shit.
Jimmy. That poor boy, that poor, sweet boy got rushed so goddamned fast, th-they just came plowing through the door when it should’ve been you! And there was no saving him, they’d gotten his neck first before ripping into the rest of him.
All you’d been able to do for that selfless, brave kid was stop his pain with a bul — WHOA, what the fu — okay, okay, you’re awake again!
You’re awake. Your heartbeat is trying to outrun itself, but you’re okay, you’re awake. You’d fallen asleep again, oh man...
Deep breaths, it was just a dream. Just another memory.
Your foot, it, um, it kicked the door when you jolted awake. The memory of pulling the trigger caused you to dream up a super loud pop in your ears and a realistic thud in your chest.
Objectively, it’s kinda cool how the brain can do that, but it’s really unpleasant when you are trying to rest and not break down or boil over on a major holiday.
You know what? You shouldn’t have been sleeping on your back, silly Y/N, it’s easier to get nightmares and sleep paralysis and stuff on one’s back.
New tactic: you’ll listen to songs that help you cry.
That’ll make you feel worse initially, but then much better! Glenn did it, he’s probably fine. You’ll let all the anger and hurt come up and flow out and away.
You shimmy the mp3 player from your pocket and queue up the remastered Mona Lisa, the song from The OC that played when Ryan’s mom left, then Dare You to Move and It's So Hard To Say Goodbye To Yesterday (yes, you’re an embarrassment), then that opera one that your mama first heard in the romantic Italian movie about the Holocaust, and some sad Johnny Cash music from his older years. You’re not brave enough yet to listen to Going to California to calm down and feel better. Haven’t been since Shane was killed. Your dad had loved the song way too much for some reason, so your family loved it. Shane listened to it way too often.
There you go about Shane again, jeez. But it’s cool, it’s cool — let it all come up and flow out.
You turn to your side facing the seat and try falling asleep again, curled like a roll-up bug while the music softly plays.
It’s good that your stuff was shoved into the Dodge during the mad rush last night, because the Chevy was the truck you’d driven away in, that night escaping from the Greene’s farm. You wouldn’t want to be in that truck right now, it’s hard enough trying to not obsess over that night.
Maybe if you remember the good parts of that night? Rick had busted through that skylight thing in the RV the night the farm was overrun, after what you’d had to do for Jimmy.
Rick had busted through it, hopped down and got you out of there. He saved you.
Once out of there, you’d glued yourself to Carl’s side, rescued Hershel, then all clambered into the red Chevy and floored it.
Come morning, the survivors all found each other at the highway.
Felt like a miracle; you still had a family, still had people.
Hell, you still had all your stuff; it was packed in the Hyundai that Glenn and Maggie got away in because you and Shane were supposed to...
...you were supposed to leave for a while, let things blow over. Help Shane come back to himself, remember his goodness. No one was past redemption.
…I love Rick, I love Shane, I love Rick, I don’t hate Rick, I don’t hate him, I love him, I love Rick, I love Shane…
Jimmy and Shane you already knew were gone, when the group found each other. It was bad enough letting Beth and Hershel know about him, but least you didn’t have to tell Jimmy’s mother what happened and how you couldn’t save her child. You see, Patricia didn’t make it, either.
Neither did Andrea, which — okay, you still can’t shake the notion that you’d seen her after she was supposed to have gotten killed. Maybe their time references were mixed up, but, it looked just like her and it hadn’t been moving like a walker, neither.
But, again, the memory situation is strange, you suppose. Clear as plastic wrap, yet messy, sort of like when the plastic wrap clings to itself.
The next afternoon, when Rick had walked off after telling all of you that you were infected, you hadn’t known that he admitted to Lori what he did to Shane right then and there.
Because, no, you’d immediately taken responsibility and done what needed doing, just like your brother would have, which was rounding up a group to get water, firewood, and something to eat.
You need water, warmth, food and wits to survive, so you desperately clung to whatever wits you still had and tried to ensure that there’d be water, warmth, and food.
As for that strange, cruel, awful, messy whispering you’d had in your head since the night before, that Rick somehow killed Shane? Because of the shouts and screams you’d heard, how Rick (and Shane’s body) looked like they’d been fighting, that Rick had blood all over his hand, how Shane’s wound looked so neat and clean compared to other bites, because of the strange things Shane was saying the last time you saw him?
Well, you’d shoved all that down and away and shamed yourself for thinking it because it was impossible.
It was your wits running away from you, not anything that could have been true. They were brothers. They were your brothers, and you had a damned job to do — doing something to keep who was still alive living, so to hell with all those awful red flags and questions in your head. Those questions were unfounded and stupid and wrong and impossible.
Which means, when Rick had that little outburst around the fire later that night…
Turns out, Shane had trained you very well how to fight. And how to fight multiple people off, including those who were bigger than you. It was quite the show, you imagine.
You still ended up restrained (you were too outnumbered) and thank God for it.
It was as if you’d turned into a rabid animal, you—you scared your Carl even more than he was already scared of his father, frightened Lori who was already frightened of her husband. Hell, you low-key terrified everybody, yourself included. All you saw was red, it was similar to that time you’d tried to beat up Ed Peletier, but amplified to eleven.
And yeah, you’d even left them that night. Your family.
A knot forms in your stomach when you acknowledge it, so you curl up tighter. That you’re crying harder now is good, soon you’ll have it all out.
Here you are still, with your family, and again, thank God for it. Your rage lessened, you’re healing bit by bit. Rick’s darkness lessened, he’s healing bit by bit.
Things got okay, and fairly fast, too.
You love him, you know that.
He loves you, you know that.
And as much as you can tell it rips him up inside even more, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s still easy for anger and hurt and even something like hatred to cloud you sometimes.
Anyways, T-Dog was right, maybe you’re having some trouble because it’s the first Christmas “without.”
…………………………..
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Hi!!!
If you're still taking requests can you do a
Haikyuu AU where s/o goes to Karasuno High School and they go to their game but they end up getting injured but won the match (you can choose what position we played)
Can you do it for Kirari, Sayaka, Yuriko and Yumeko
P.s: love your work🤗
↳ haikyuu au
❤ GENRE: fluff, a tiny bit of angst if you really look for it, comfort.
❤ CHARACTER(S): k. momobami, s. igarashi, y. nishinotouin, y. jabami
❤ SYNOPSIS: in request!
❤ NOTE: this entire thing made me miss hq ngl but YES omg my first yuriko request
━ KIRARI MOMOBAMI ;
Karasuno High School wasn't seen as a powerhouse and Kirari knew it but she knew that with you on the team, there was no way you couldn't change that
You were the wing spiker, the ace and the captain, you had had to explain the numerical ranking to her and what you did as well as what every position did, so when she arrived, she was eagerly waiting to see you
Already she could see that you truly carried your team, focusing on your motions that no one else but you, your team, and her could decipher
Everything was going well, you were even winning but of course, good luck was never complete without a sprinkle of bad luck
Kirari could sense it before it happened; one of the fast balls came hurtling towards someone's face but they froze and you stepped in to get the ball, only for it to crack against your left wrist
There was a timeout and you were holding your injured wrist, biting your lip to not let any sound leave, but Kirari could see your eyes glossed over from the sheer pain
She raced down to find you, being taken by your coach to the infirmary, she could even hear you saying, "I'm fine! Put me back in, we have to win this!"
She was sitting with you in the office so you wouldn't leave; your wrist was broken from the force of the ball because you blocked it from hitting another person's face
You said, "I knew you were watching too, so I wanted to win. Guess we're gonna live up to our reputation as losers."
Kirari smiled softly, "You aren't a loser, I wouldn't be with you if you were one."
When you were released, your entire team came racing after you, hugging you and cheering; due to how harshly you played, you gave them the head start they needed to win
Kirari could sense your happiness and she was right, she had a sixth sense for these sort of things
━ SAYAKA IGARASHI ;
Sayaka had requested a day off from being secretary so that she could go to your game, after hearing that this would be the game to determine if you could go to Nationals or not
You were the middle blocker, meaning that you were in charge of ensuring nothing got past you
She knew her volleyball positions, so you better believe she was focused on everyone and tried to guess what their positions were before the game started
The second you saw her in the stands, your face lit up and you seemed more concentrated than usual, the others noticing this as well
No volleyball got past you, you were blocking and receiving them like it was nobody's business, the crowd was going wild and Sayaka had a tiny lovesick grin on her face as she watched you play the sport you loved dearly
It was an important game, after all, no wonder you were putting everything you had into it; but sometimes, putting everything into something could cause a person to crash
That was what happened to you when a volleyball came your way and you were too early to block it, meaning that when it actually hit you, it made the tip of your finger twist back
You landed on the ground, gripping your hand and Sayaka immediately panicked at seeing your team surrounding you, following by your manager leading you out
She ran down to find you and she saw you fighting with your manager, saying, "I'll be fine, just let me go back! We have to go to Nationals!"
"No, Y/N, you can't play in your condition."
"Your manager is right." Sayaka chimed in, before leading you away to take you to the infirmary
You were patched up instantly, the nurse taping two of your fingers together so that it couldn't possibly move under any condition and Sayaka asked, "Are you really going back in?"
"Sayaka, we have to go to Nationals. I need to make sure people see us."
"...Okay, I will support you."
Due to your comeback, the team was even more fierce, trying to avenge you until you stepped on the court
You finally won a few hits after you entered the game and Sayaka could see how ecstatic you were, even turning around to wink at her
Sayaka couldn't stop smiling at you for the rest of the day, ever so proud of you
━ YURIKO NISHINOTOUIN ;
She knew your school’s reputation, but she wouldn’t let that stop her; she had your game to go to and she would be damned if she missed it
She knew everything there was to know about volleyball, so when you told her your position as the setter, she knew that you, as experienced as you were, knew all the tricks needed to win
Due to her position in the student council, she did get some looks because no one knew why she was here until you happily skipped over in the middle of the team meeting to greet her
She saw you being dragged back and she smiled to herself, noticing how the other team's setter was desdly serious, meanwhile you were more bouncy at seeing her
When the game started, her focus was on you but it seemed as though there was no one in the audience, it was just you, your team and your opponents
You used the tricks you and Yuriko studied long ago and she could feel a swell of pride go up in her as she saw you win multiple times just due to your experience and strategies
But she could sense disaster wanting to happen soon
It hit when you did faked a set and instead merely pushed it over the net when you jumped; when you landed, your ankle made you topple over and you crashed to the ground, cradling your ankle
Yuriko was the first one to stand up in a panic, watching as the team gathered around you; your ankle, from her line of sight, did not look good and you even had to be carried out by your coach
She joined you in the infirmary just in time for the nurse to say you wouldn't be able to continue playing for the rest of the game since you had a grave sprain
You hid your face in your hands, feeling disappointed and ashamed: "Right at the finish line, I decide to lose."
Yuriko was rubbing your book soothingly, shaking her head, "It wasn't your fault, my flower. Do not blame yourself for what you cannot control."
She helps you walk out of the infirmary, not expecting a roar from your teammates rushing to get to you and explain everything, but the major point was that they had won to avenge you
With a tired smile, you patted the substitute setter on the back, telling them how proud you were
Yuriko, when you two were alone said, "I'm proud of you, you know. Most people would have been reckless about their health. You've done everything and you got your reward when you thought everything was done for."
She is prouder than she lets on, but she will not stop talking about your game to the stident council
━ JABAMI YUMEKO ;
You were the libero on the team, therefore you were the most capable of getting injured, but somehow, you never got injured and you were always excited about the next game
This time, you were even more excited when Yumeko said that you would be going to your game
You had given her your extra jersey to wear and she wore it proudly, even shouted good luck to you from the stands; the other team members could see how energetic you were before the game, almost as if Yumeko's presence was giving you more energy
The game's first set was easily won by your team, you never let a ball fall and you were consistently keeping the ball up in the air, saving it when it needed to be saved
Even though Karasuno was not a powerhouse, you were
Yumeko could see your level compared to everyone else and she saw how much effort you put into your playing style
It was unfortunate however, that even though you kept up your streak of never injuring yourself, it had to happen in the last set that would be the tie breaker
You had dived to get a ball, but something happened with your knee, causing it to crack loudly on the ground and you fell to the side, not moving at all out of fear
There was a crowd around you and before you knew it, the pain was too much to bear, leading you to go to the hospital
Yumeko was right there with you and she could see how frustrated you were with yourself
"I just wanted to win for us! I wanted to make you proud..."
"And what makes you think I'm not proud?"
Yumeko had a feeling that your team had won, but she wouldn't tell you yet because she didn't want to give you false hope nor make you feel worse that you weren't with the team
However, she was right, you ended up getting a call from the team, all of them screaming that they won
Yumeko was happy for your team, knowing this was your first step to recovering and your first major step into becoming known as a powerhouse
#kakegurui x reader#kakegurui x y/n#kakegurui x you#kirari x reader#sayaka x reader#yuriko x reader#yumeko x reader#kirari momobami x reader#sayaka igarashi x reader#yuriko nishinotouin x reader#jabami yumeko x reader
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oh. my. god.
I FOUND THE ORIGINAL TBD FROM 2019 IM CRYING WHYS IT SO BADDDDD
tw for absolutely atrocious writing and 9 almost 10 year old me thinking shes the shit
The Black Dragon 1
By (redacted)
Prologue
Once upon a time there was a magical land.This land went by the name of Erada. In Erada there were races, magic and things we haven't even dreamed about. In it, there were four kingdoms, but now three. One was destroyed in a battle with the other continents. The others were terrorised by The Black Dragon. And this is where our story begins...
CHAPTER 1
In the third kingdom,Princess Nicky decided to slay The Black Dragon.It was rumored to be impossible. Nobody ever came back alive .But when Nicky decided to do something,she did it.She packed her bags,and quietly left the Castle.She wrote a note to her brother,Jay.She walked through the halls of the castle.She left no trace except for that note.She brought only a pack of food along with her.
CHAPTER 2
Jay woke up searching for Nicky .After about 5 minutes of searching he found a handwritten note. Jay, gone to slay the dragon:love Nicky. ”Oh Nicky,”sighed Jay.”When will you ever learn.” So he set out to assist her.Through the castle, down these stairs,past the river.He walked tentatively through the woods.Then he realised he had forgotten food.He stabbed a nearby rabbit and roasted it on a spit.Poor rabbit.He continued on to pursue his sister.
CHAPTER 3
After many sleepless nights, Nicky arrived at Owls reach,or at least what was left of it. ”Nicky! Are you crazy!” Nicky turned around. ”Hello Jay!” she replied in an innocent voice,like she hadn't done anything. ”You're lucky I don't strangle you!” They continued down the road, kicking stones into the grass.When they reached the lair Nicky suggested Jay go first.He climbs up the mound of rocks in front of the cave. The biggest boulder on top slips and hits him square in the chest. He falls back to the ground.His breathing becomes hollow.
CHAPTER 4
“We should see the wizard.” said Nicky hurriedly. ”Nicky.” Said Jay softly.”I can’t”. Nicky immediately knew something was wrong.”Jay,”She whispered. She pressed her head against his chest. Nothing.”HELP”She cried.Suddenly The Wizard came carrying a scroll and a gleaming green potion.The Wizard forced the potion down his throat.Jay gasped for air.”Jay I hate you sooooo much.”Said Nicky. ”Wow.Nicky, I JUST CAME BACK FROM THE DEAD!!!!”His voice rose.”Oh, Nicky did I mention you alone can slay the dragon.”Said the Wizard. ”What!” Screamed Jay.Nicky’́s face went pale. CHAPTER 5
Nicky got on her brother’s armour,helmet,and sword.She could almost make out her life flashing before her eyes.She progressed through the smoke generated by the dragon.The dragon arose. ”It’s now or never.” Sighed Nicky. She charged toward the dragon.She flung her sword;the dragon spewed magma.At one point Nicky blinded the dragon with her sword .The dragon roared in agony.Magma wore down her boots.Just when it looked like Nicky was going to get covered in magma , a force pushed her out of the way.It was her brother,determined to save his sister;heir to the throne.He stabbed the monster right in the heart with a silver dagger.Although it meant perishing in the process. Where he found it was a mystery.
CHAPTER 6
When Nicky arrived home a humongous party awaited her.The kingdom held a traditional funeral cerimonies.One for Jay ,who died during the battle. 5 years later Nicky had won a fiery debate between her sister. When Nicky arrived at the castle, she had been showered by thank you ́s and gifts.Her brother would have wanted her to move on her quest to unite the solitare kingdoms.So she did.But still, by age 21 she hadn't forgotten that long ago day.Neither had her kingdom.But she was older now, married,2 children to care for.She couldn't leave again. Not now. Not today.”Thank you”She whispered into the sky,where surely,her brother was watching her.”, for everything.”
END OF BOOK 1
...
End Notes ::
1. i forgot Erida was originally spelt Erada what the fuckkk....
2. NICKY AND JAY IM FUCKING- NIKITA, ELIAS IM SO SORRY omggg
3. badass fmc settles down even though she clearly doesnt want to trope... eugh
4. SHE WAS STRAIGHT OMG
5. onky 2 kids????? damn
6. grammar? i didnt know her
7. NO KORAKI. NO SILAS. NO ADONIS. WTF IS THIS.
8. love the deus ex machina w the knife (sarcasm. i wanna kms.)
9. wizard?????? why???????????
#writeblr#omg this is actually so bad why am i posting this#☆ kat's textposts ⚘#☆ the black dragon ⚜
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