#bringing the dead back by/but bringing them wrong. that's what sends me into a panic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lowkeyerror · 11 months

Text

A New Victim pt 3

Sam Carpenter x reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Notes: Typical violence associated with series. Yes i edited this bc i wrote it in the wrong pove whoops

Summary: You and Sam stay behind while the others go to a party. Maybe that makes you vulnerable.

Masterlist | part 1 | part 2

You had been staying with Sam and Tara for a few days. You were still on edge, but grateful to not be alone during this situation. You felt protected by the sisters. The group in general was still a little skeptical of her, but Sam and Tara weren’t.

Tara made sure you had at least one other person with her on campus. Sam kept an eye on you off of campus, insisting on joining you on any errands you had to run.

Things began to fall into a routine and maybe this stalled some of your anxiety. Little did you know your anxiety was about to spike to unforeseen levels.

The apartment was full with the usual suspects. Albeit they were headed out to a part. Sam wasn’t fond of anyone going, but she tried her best to let them have a normal college experience. Tara had begged you to go with them, but as soon as you heard that Sam was staying behind, you declined the offer.

You weren’t going to express it to everyone, but you felt safest around Sam.

“ You’re sure you don’t want to go?” Tara asks one last time as they head out of the door.

“ I’m good here, you guys have fun.”

“ And be back at a reasonable time,” Sam adds.

Tara rolls her eyes at her older sister and closes the door behind her. The only one’s left in the apartment were you and Sam.

Sam’s gaze fell onto you . You were playing with the baggy sleeves of your hoodie. Sam had picked up on the fact that you weren’t much of a conversationalist. Sam didn’t usually have much to say either. Yet when you were in a space with just you and her, you felt compelled to speak.

“ You’re staring at me,” Your eyes cut over to Sam, who is in fact staring at you already.

“ Why didn’t you go to the party?” Sam deflects the attention.

You shrug, “ I just didn’t want to.”

Sam shakes her head, “You don’t think it’s safe.”

You fold your hands on your lap, “ Do you think it’s safe?”

Just as Sam is about to answer the question your phone begins to ring. You pale when you pick it up to see no caller ID. Sam sees this and instantly snatches the phone. She answers the call and is met with heavy breathing on the line.

“ Put Y/n on,” the voice is familiar to Sam, but it only brings back bad memories.

“ Why start this when you never survive? What’s the point of doing this?”

The voice laughs, “ What’s your favorite scary movie Samantha? Maybe we could reenact it.”

Sam is quick to bring you to your feet. She keeps a death grip on around your wrist as they walk around the apartment.

“ I will kill you,” Sam grits her teeth as she searches for the criminal.

“ Not if I kill you first,” the line goes dead after that.

“ Sam?”

The dark haired girl grabs a baseball bat and hands it to you while grabbing a knife for herself, “The son of a bitch is in here.”

You begin to tremble, “ I don’t know if I can do this.”

Sam didn’t get to comfort you as the masked assailant barged out of their hiding place in the closet. Ghostface moves quick making every step purposeful.

The closer he gets the faster you feel your heart beating. The slew of curses that fill your mind send you into a panic. You glance at Sam who has that dark look back in her eyes.

Sam is thinking as fast as she can. She wants to split from you, but she doesn’t want to take the chance of having the killer focus on you.

They seem to be in a stalemate. That is until Ghostface tries to leap over the countertop to attack you both. Sam moves expertly, but you don’t follow immediately. Instead you take a swing at the killer’s leg making them fall harshly on the floor.

“ Door now,” Sam says inching towards the exit of the house. You follow the directions given by the older girl.

Sam gets there before you, though you aren’t far behind. However you weren't moving fast enough. Sam sees this and grips the you, yanking you through the door, before slamming it. Together you ran hand in hand. You have no idea how far you've ran. All that you know is that you're out of breath.

You hunch over to catch your breath and feels a stinging pain on your back. Your hand hesitantly touches the spot and you hiss. When you look at your hand there’s blood.

“ Fuck,” Sam yells in frustration at the air. The woman is beyond angry at herself for allowing them to be put in this situation at all.

“ Hey, we’re ok,” You try to reassure Sam and yourself.

Sam takes a deep breath, but it’s almost pointless when she sees the blood on your hand. “ He got you when we were leaving. Turn around and let me see.”

You almost blush at the demand. In any other situation this would’ve had you melting. You feel Sam’s finger lightly graze your skin and shiver.

Sam sighs,” It’s too dark. I can’t see.”

“ I have the keys to my place,” you offer, unwilling to go back to the apartment. Sam frowns for second seemingly weighing her options then nods.

When you arrive at your place, the first thing you do is turn all the lights on. Sam begins checking the place before determining that the pair is alone. Once both are done, you lead Sam to the restroom.

“ I’ve got a little first aid somewhere in here,” you find it and hand it to the older Carpenter sister.

“ I need you to take off your shirt.”

Your brain short circuits. Sam feels this shift and begins to back track, but she stops herself as she watches you reach for the hem of her shirt.

Sam fights the urge she has to put her hands over the yours and assist you. For a moment too long Sam just stares at your back. She takes a deep inhale as she steps closer to you.

“ Doesn’t look too bad,” her voice is airy as she speaks. You simply nod unable to speak in such a vulnerable position. “ Is it alright if I...”

Sam grabs your side to pull you closer. She grabs materials from the first aid kit, and begins cleaning the wound. You flinch as the alcohol hits your wound.

“ Sorry baby,” Sam speaks unconsciously as she tries to disinfect the wound.

You blush, but try to keep quiet otherwise. When Sam finishes dressing the cut, she doesn’t move away from you. Instead she sighs heavily and rests her head on your bare shoulder. Slowly she snakes her arms around your waists. Usually in this situation you would panic, but all you do is place your hands on top of Sam’s.

“ I won’t let him get away with this,” she mumbles into your shoulder.

“ It’s just a scratch,” you try to calm her.

“ It wasn’t supposed to be just a scratch Y/n. He won't get the chance to do it again.”

You turn around so you're facing the woman, “ I think I handled myself pretty well.”

Sam sighs, “ You did, but you shouldn't have had to. I shouldn't have came up to you that day at the park. I dragged you into this shit storm.”

You shake your head as you gaze up at her, “ I’m glad you came up to me. Killer or no killer, I wouldn't trade that interaction for anything.”

Sam's eyes soften, “ He stabbed you.”

“ And you patched me up. Actually you saved my life because if you hadn’t pulled me through the door, I would’ve-“

“ It would've been my fault.”

You gently place your hand on the side of Sam’s face, “ It wouldn’t have been anyone’s fault except whoever was behind that mask.”

Sam leans into your touch, “ It only exist because of my father.”

The dark hair woman finds her face being tilted up so she could get a good look into the your eyes, “ Sam, I don’t care how you try to make yourself the bad guy here, but it’s obvious to me that the psycho killer with mask is the one at fault.”

Sam chuckles a bit at the statement, it sounds so obvious coming from your lips. The Carpenter sister let her eyes drift briefly to the lips she was thinking about. It wasn’t fast enough for you not to take note.

There was something that felt so normal about this all. Being this close together, hands on each other, there’s almost no tension. Sam can’t help inching her head towards the younger girl. You start to slowly move in too.

Your lips are centimeters apart from each other when Sam’s phone rings loudly, echoing across the bathroom. Both women practically jump apart.

“ We need you at the party, it’s Tara”

Taglist: @aiakuma @idkwhatiamdoingherebro

#lowkeyerror #samantha carpenter #samantha carpenter x reader #ghostface #tara carpenter #chad meeks martin #mindy meeks martin #anika kayoko #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter #sam carpenter imagine

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bluebeary-jay · 1 year

Text

scattered thoughts / sharp focus

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Joel is taken away from you and upon finding him almost-dead... something in you snaps ((kinda part 2 to clouded judgment / clear mind, but you don't necessarily need to read that one))

Tags: ANGST, angst with happy ending, near death experiences, Joel has surprisingly little screen time but you'll see he was there in spirit

Warnings: REALLY graphic descriptions of violence, small panic attacks, KINDA torture(?) 😳, choking, lemme know if i missed something

Word count: 7.5K

A/N: i can't believe i've finally finished it! i aimed for a worthy successor to cj/cm aaand i hope i managed but jeez was it hard. also i told myself i won't be writing sth like that again but i kinda have an idea for the final part (would be hurt/comfort 🤭) so let me know if it's sth you'd like to read. anyway as always happy reading!! 💕🥰 comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, i absolutely love seeing what you think of my fics!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You swallowed your tears and rested the chin on your hands, trying to push back the wave of panic threatening to drown you.

“Tell me again.”

Tommy sighed, his own eyes empty and worried.

“I don’t know who those guys were, but they obviously knew Joel. There was a dark man leadin’ them, and I think he had somethin’ wrong with his lip, but it was too far for me to take a good look. The group consisted of five, maybe six people? And I shot one of them, but he appeared to still be alive when they were leavin’.”

You were silent for a couple of seconds, trying to make sense of it all.

“And where did they take him?”

“I reckon to the old ski resort on the top of the mountain. We ventured pretty far from here to investigate these tracks.”

You nodded and steeled yourself, taking a deep, trembling breath and quickly drying your tears.

“Okay. I’m going.”

“You’re not.” Maria leaned over the table, her expression unyielding. “The decision is final.”

“I am going,” you repeated fiercely, slamming the flat of your hand against the tabletop, but Tommy gave you a stern look, which made you bite your tongue. “Look, I get that you don’t want to lose even more people in a rescue mission–”

“This is not what it’s about,” Maria retorted, almost looking hurt by your words. “Believe me, if I wasn’t carrying another human being inside me, I’d already be going after them. But you have to take other things into consideration.”

“She’s right,” Tommy spoke up quietly, though equally irritably, and you turned sharply to look at him in disbelief. “The route to the resort is very advantageous to fall into an ambush. They could shoot us off like ducks and we’d have nowhere to hide.”

“I don’t care,” you ground out, looking from one to the other. “We can’t leave Joel. He’s your family, for goddamn–”

“You think I don’t know that?!” shouted Tommy abruptly, bringing his hand down onto the table, too. “He’s my fucking brother and was family way before you were even born!”

“Tommy.” Maria kicked him under the table, keeping one hand on her belly. Her husband flared his nostrils, clearly agitated by your words, but you were too angry yourself to care right now. You two glared at each other for some time before Tommy clenched his fists and turned around.

“M’goin’ to get some air,” he said gloomily over his shoulder, already at the door leading outside. Maria sighed and looked at you again.

“Please. Don’t do anything stupid, and I swear I’ll send a group out as soon as this blizzard ends.”

“He can be long dead by then,” you answered gravely, really set off by Tommy’s reaction and his words. You tried to will your tear ducts to hold any signs of stress and worry, not wanting to show your friend how broken and helpless you felt inside. “If it was me, he’d already be halfway there to save me, Maria.”

“I know. But just think about it. If something happens to you…” She shook her head. “How do you think I’d be able to look Joel in the eyes and explain why… how…”

She genuinely seemed at a loss of words, and you sighed, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

“I understand where you’re coming from, I really do. But I need to get him home, Maria. I have to.”

With that, you stood up, feeling like you were going to suffocate if you stayed in the room any longer. You didn’t look back even when you heard Maria calling your name softly.

There wasn’t any sense in discussing the matter with any of them – you made up your mind to go and save Joel and there was no way anyone would make you stay. He wouldn’t hesitate to go and get you if anyone dared to lay a hand on you.

You remembered that one time when he killed a group of men who wanted to use you as a bargaining chip to gain entry to Jackson. And how afterward you told him you’d do the same for him, unable to bear the painful and guilty expression on his face.

Now you planned on doing just that.

You were scared – of course you were, you weren’t stupid – and the nerves were practically eating you alive, gnawing at your bones and hurting your muscles from the inside out.

But the worst was the fear of never seeing Joel again. Of something happening to him. And you couldn’t live with yourself if you didn’t at least try…

“I’m coming with you.”

Your head snapped to the side. There stood Ellie – dressed in a warm jacket and a hat that didn’t cover her ears. Her eyes were full of fire, and you recognized the anger and determination in her expression as the same which were almost suffocating you.

Of course she was eavesdropping on the conversation. It was Joel that it was about, after all, her dad in all but one sense.

And suddenly you understood what Maria meant by not being able to look Joel in the eyes if something happened to you.

“No,” you said curtly, walking past her and out onto the street in the direction of your house.

“I’m not asking for permission.” Ellie was right behind you, and the force of her steps showed just how angry and frustrated she was – just like you felt. “I know you’re gonna go after those guys, and I’m coming with you.”

“You’re not,” you repeated more sternly, not turning around to face her. You reached your house and fumbled to open the door. “You’re staying and that’s fina–”

You stopped yourself and sighed, pressing your forehead against the wooden surface.

It was unfair. You were unfair. If those exact words spoken by Maria have set you off so much, you wouldn’t be surprised if Ellie…

“You’re not my fucking mom, remember?” the girl barked angrily, and you let out a shuddering breath, stressed to your limits with everything that happened in the last few hours. “You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do just because you’re older!”

It’s okay. It’s gonna be fine. Everything is gonna be okay.

“I know,” you whispered after a couple of seconds of silence, still not turning around. “I’m sorry.”

Ellie didn’t answer. You repeated your quiet mantra and glanced over your shoulder at her. “But Ellie, I… I can’t let you go. Joel would never forgive me if something happened to you.”

Jesus. Exactly like Maria.

Ellie still looked pissed at your earlier words, and she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Well, you’re not the only one who cares about him, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. But you’re the one he cares about the most.”

Ellie opened her mouth. Closed it and furrowed her eyebrows, but the irritation in her eyes dimmed. You gave her a small, apologetic smile, trying not to burst into tears.

“He’s gonna be fine, you know,” you lied smoothly, opening the door. “And Maria said she’ll send a group to retrieve him as soon as the storm eases up a bit.”

You didn’t even need to look to know that she didn’t believe you. To be honest, you wouldn’t believe yourself either in this situation.

You waited several seconds to see if the girl wanted to say something else, but after a few moments she spun on her heel and went back, not saying anything. You stared after her, but when the thick snow made her figure just a fuzzy shape, you gently closed the door and pressed the heels of your hands to your eyes.

It’s going to be fine. You’ll get Joel back and all will be okay.

You took a couple of deep – albeit shaky – breaths to pull yourself together, and when you were pretty sure you weren’t about to start crying, you made your way into the kitchen. And stopped short.

At your table sat Tommy, fiddling with his thumbs.

“Fuck, Tommy,” you mumbled, trying to calm down your pounding heart. “You scared the crap out of me.”

The younger Miller looked up, but stayed silent. You looked at each other for a few tense moments, but ultimately you sighed and left him in the kitchen, going to your room to get a backpack and another, more fitting, set of clothes.

He was still there when you returned to the kitchen with your stuff, but you didn’t even pretend you weren’t preparing to head out. The man watched silently as you put the backpack down by the door, went to retrieve and reload your gun, and gathered some essentials on the table, not once glancing in his direction.

You were persistent in ignoring Tommy’s presence, but then he finally spoke up.

“We can go before dawn. I’ll get the horses ready and we will take the fourth gate.”

You froze and stopped what you were doing, then turned around and placed your hand on your hip.

“We can’t take horses up there. Not in this weather.”

“We’ll leave them at the fifteenth checkmark. That place in the East where there are so many swallows durin’ spring.”

You nodded, and your gaze softened when you looked him over. Tommy was just as worried about Joel as you were, you knew it. He was just better at hiding it.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” you murmured, feeling terrible that in such a short amount of time, it was a second person you were apologizing to. “But you know I have to go after him. You know that.”

“Fuck,” he swore quietly, sighing. “Yeah, I know. There’s no way I ain’t goin’ either. Just… I just hate doing somethin’ behind Maria’s back.”

You didn’t answer – because what could you say? That he didn’t have to go with you? As much as you wanted to save Joel, pretending not to care about the dangers or anyone’s opinion, you knew you’d probably die if you went alone. But it didn’t mean you were going to ignore all that Tommy was risking by coming along with you.

“You don’t have to, Tommy,” you whispered. “You have your wife to think about, after all. And your–”

“I know,” he interrupted glumly. “Don’t worry. All of us will come back.”

You nodded. You really hoped he was right.

*****

At first, everything was going according to plan.

At least, until Ellie decided to show up.

She surprised both you and Tommy a couple of miles outside of Jackson, probably thinking that it was far enough that you won’t try to send her away.

You tried anyway. You were understandably furious, not only because she didn’t listen to you, but also that she trailed after you both for so long in this weather. Her reveal caused a short screaming match and a couple of nervous tears shed by you, but eventually you and Tommy decided it’d be more dangerous to make Ellie go back to Jackson alone. So she continued with you to the house where you left your horses, then past it and in the direction of the ski resort.

You didn’t know how many people were at the resort, and there were only the two of you – well, three, counting Ellie, but no matter her stubbornness, you weren’t going to let her go in – and an attack was too risky in this situation.

So you decided to sneak in. To distract and draw the kidnappers’ attention long enough for you to get Joel out. It was still stupidly risky, but it wasn’t like there were much more options that wouldn’t end in those guys killing all of you. The plan was that Tommy would find a vantage point and be on guard to take down any threats with his sniper rifle if you were noticed, while you go get Joel.

Ellie… Ellie didn’t take no for an answer. And as much as you hated that she tagged along on this dangerous rescue mission, you had to admit that she came prepared. Apparently some time ago Joel taught her how to make trap mines and she pitched the idea of planting some up the mountain to create an avalanche.

Well, you and Tommy were both very much against setting off a full-blown avalanche, but it wasn’t a bad idea per se. So it was agreed that Tommy will help her set the bombs in some strategic places while you wait for a signal to go in.

The sneaking in part was surprisingly easy. The people staying there didn’t leave any guards outside, probably because they didn’t expect that someone would actually look for them in this weather, and it seemed that there weren’t that many of them inside like you feared. You had a vague idea where Joel might be, based on the positioning of the people present, so you reckoned it’ll be the wisest to wait nearby.

It took about an hour of hiding in one of the empty rooms (you had to change your hiding spot once, because someone decided to randomly sweep the perimeter) before you heard distant explosions and panicked, angry yells, and then a rumble of the mountain. You suspected a fair amount of snow was falling down the slope, and you prayed that Ellie and Tommy were in a safe place when that happened.

You heard the sound of footsteps getting further away. Then more of it. It was eerily silent, and you counted to ten in your head, before slowly exiting your hiding spot.

Just as you suspected, Joel was held in the lobby, tied to one of the decorative columns, and even though his back was to you, you’d recognize him anywhere, even by hands or the back of his head alone. A quick glance around the room confirmed that there was no one around, but still you preferred to stay on guard. You silently tip-toed to where he was sitting on the floor, mindful of all the debris scattered on the floor and keeping your head low, and breathed a sigh of relief when you finally reached him.

“Don’t move,” you whispered, barely moving your lips. Your fingers touched his wrist and he budged slightly. You angled your face closer to the left side of his head, hoping he’ll hear you better this way. “It’s me, Joel. I’m gonna get these off you, okay?”

Not waiting for the reply, you took out your knife and started to cut the thick, coarse rope binding Joel’s wrists. You winced at the burns underneath, but you managed not to cut him, which was a feat with how tight the ropes were. He was very still, probably not wanting to handicap you.

“Okay,” you whispered when the last of the thick strands were cut through, and you carefully slid the remnants of the rope from his wrists. “Now follow me, Tommy is…”

Your voice died down when Joel’s arms loosely slumped down, along with his head, and a second later his torso started tilting to the side before heavily hitting the ground.

Your heart stopped in your chest.

“No.” The whispered word escaped you when you hurried around him, now not caring about staying hidden. “No, no, no, please…”

You rolled Joel onto his back and only now saw the damage done to him – his nose broken, face covered in blood, a gash under his left ear, and a still bleeding gunshot wound in his arm. He didn’t look dead, didn’t have that lifeless emptiness around him, but his eyes were closed and his chest was still. You put your ear to his mouth, desperate to feel his breath on your skin, but…

No, it can’t be, it can’t…

You couldn’t feel anything.

“Joel,” you said quietly, taking his face between your hands, but tears were blurring your vision. “Come on, please open your eyes.” A choked sob broke out of your throat and you shook your head when he still didn’t even as much as stir. “Love, please…”

That’s when your eyes landed on a small, glass vial lying discarded some feet away. You looked from it to Joel, tears clouding your vision, and scrambled forward to check it out.

As you suspected, the syringe – because that’s what it turned out to be – had the traces of a thick, translucent liquid in it left. There wasn’t any writing on it, but the glass was clean, unlike various other bottles and wrappings scattered throughout the facility. You stared at it for a couple of seconds, then fixed your gaze on Joel again.

Just as the sound of footsteps started to echo down the hall.

You froze and strained your ears to make sure you didn’t imagine it, then took a look around the room. The doors were slightly ajar, but whoever was coming here, they couldn’t see you just yet. Panic seized your insides and you turned to Joel again.

“Sweetheart, please wake up,” you whispered pleadingly, shaking his shoulders and slapping his cheek lightly. “Come on, look at me, open your eyes…"

The steps were getting louder by the second. You tore the glove off your hand with your teeth and tried to very quickly check Joel’s pulse, but either in your panic you couldn’t find it, or the heartbeat was too slow for you to pick up.

You didn’t consider any other option.

There wasn’t much time left, so finally you left him and quietly went to hide behind the door, waiting for the incomer to walk in. Your hand reached for the gun on your belt.

And paused.

There couldn’t be any other option… right? Joel was alive, you just failed to find his pulse. He…

He was lying, still in the place you left him, and you couldn’t see his chest moving. The blood was flowing from the wound in his arm, staining his jacket and the floor… Your hand, the one holding the pistol, was covered in it, too…

Then you did something you never expected of yourself.

The gun stayed in its holster, and you went to grab from the ground one of the heavier pieces of debris you noticed before, a long metal pipe. Your hands tightened on the metal, and your eyes stayed on Joel’s lifeless form. You took a stifled, nervous breath. Then a deep, steadying one.

The person in the hall was really close now. Joel still didn’t appear to be moving or breathing, and it made your own chest feel tight and painful.

He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t.

But if they did this, if… if he won’t ever open his beautiful brown eyes again, say your name in that entricing raspy drawl…

The doors to your right opened and your face twisted in rage and resentment. Your muscles tensed and focus sharpened.

The man who walked through the door made a noise of surprise at the sight of Joel lying on the floor – and that inhaling sound, that maddening noise seemed to taunt you, because how dared he breathe when Joel’s own breath was stolen from him, when you weren’t sure if it was still there – right before you stepped forward and swung the pipe with all your might.

The man – dark skin, with short hair – fell down with a loud cry when the harsh metal hit him right in the temple. Your eyes scanned his figure for a weapon, and you hit him again, this time somewhere near his stomach, when he made a move to reach for his knife.

“What did you give him?!” you asked with malice and venom that were so alien to you, you almost didn’t recognize your voice. The man’s eyes focused on you for the first time when you kicked his blade away, and his confusion turned to anger.

“Crazy bitch!” he spat, heaving for air, and lunged at you, but the open wound in his skull must’ve slowed him down, because without any problem you managed to raise your makeshift weapon before he could grab you.

Since you met him so many years ago, you always had Joel to watch your back. Now you were alone, but somehow that thought didn’t scare you. It exhilarated you.

An unpleasant, hair-rising crack echoed in the room, followed by the stranger’s scream, when the heavy metal smashed the bones in the forearm.

“I asked… a simple, fucking, question!” you snarled at the man, bringing the pipe down again, aiming for his hand this time. He moved it away at the last second, which enraged you even more, so with a mad, frustrated scream, you smashed his knee, using the pipe’s momentum when it bounced off the floor. “What the fuck did you do to him?!!”

He screamed, loudly and terribly, cursing at you with every shaky breath he took, and–

You felt so unlike you, so… out of your skin, somehow… but you wanted to make him suffer. You wanted to know this inhuman cry of pain that was reverberating through the walls of the resort was your doing and your power over this bastard. Because of what they did to Joel.

Then a loud bang rang out in the air, and you instinctively ducked your head when a part of the door to your side was shot off. You dropped the pipe – no use for it now – and drew your gun, noticing with surprise that your heart was steady and your breath even, as if you didn’t almost get shot just now.

Another bullet was sent in your direction, and a woman’s voice yelled something inaudible, while you stood still and counted the seconds.

Three, two…

In a rapid movement, you came out of cover and aimed at the person standing in the hall, firing twice. The first bullet hit the woman in the arm while the second seemed to burrow itself in her stomach. She fell backwards with a curt cry, and the man lying at your feet roared with rage.

“No! You fucking bitch, leave her alone!!”

Your motions were almost automatic as you put your gun away and picked up the metal pipe again, its end splattered with blood. The man in front of you had to see something in your eyes – despair? emptiness? hatred? – because his face fell and he started quietly begging for you to stop and let him go. At least that’s what you assumed he was saying, because you didn’t listen to him one bit.

“Do not…” you started, unexpectedly calmly, bringing the end of the blunt weapon down. The impact caused his shinbone to break, and you lingered for just a moment to hear the bitter cracks of the shattered bones, “fucking… go anywhere. Don’t you dare move, hear me?”

The man didn’t answer, just cursed and wept in pain. The sound was horrible, but you almost didn’t notice it – or more accurately, didn’t care. Which would be even more concerning if you weren’t aware of the woman lying injured in the hall behind the door, and Joel, still unmoving and cold to the touch on the other side of the room.

Slowly, not hearing the black man’s cries or distant gunshots from where Tommy probably was taking down the enemies, and not caring about the blood of a stranger covering your jacket and pants, you dropped the pipe and took out your gun again. Then you made your way down the corridor, your eyes locked on the woman who shot at you.

She was groaning in pain, clutching at her stomach. When she noticed you, her hand reached for the pistol which lay discarded next to her, but you quickly lifted your own and aimed at her before she touched it.

“Don’t move,” you murmured, which would sound almost soft if it weren’t for the empty look in your eyes. The woman scanned you up and down, and slowly lifted her hands.

“Who are you?”

“What did you give him?” you asked like you didn’t hear her, coming closer to kick away her gun to the far end of the hall. The woman’s eyes followed the weapon, then shifted to you.

“Do you even know what that man did? What is he guilty of?”

“I know. Now answer the damn question. What did you give–”

The door on your left slammed open and you only had time to turn your head before a heavy body collided with you, pushing you to the wall. Your head hit the bricks with an echoing crack, knocking the breath out of you. A man who surprised you grabbed the material of your jacket and slammed you into the wall again, but you managed to grab his hair and yank it hard, which allowed you to step to the side and away from the point of disadvantage that being trapped against the wall was.

The man – taller than you, with a black eye and without one of the front teeth – was quick to recover, however, and catched the wrist of your hand that held the gun, pushing it to the side when you pulled the trigger. From the corner of your eye you could see the woman you shot curling up and covering her head, then trying to scamper away, but the wound in her stomach was a significant impediment.

You fired again, trying to wrestle the gun from the man, but his grip was strong and after a few seconds of struggle he managed to knock the weapon out of your grasp, sending it flying to where you kicked off the woman’s one earlier.

Not sooner than your hands were empty, his elbow collided with your face, hard, and you cried when a gush of blood started pouring from the broken nose and a cut on your lip. Fear washed over you, and sheer luck caused you to duck to the side in time, avoiding a fist to the temple.

You stumbled backwards a few unstable steps, breathing heavily. The guy was smirking, acting like he already won – but you weren’t about to die in this sleazy, stinky place, leaving Ellie all alone and never knowing why they abducted Joel in the first place.

Joel…

“You’ve made a huge mistake,” said the man quietly, taking one, then two steps forward and swinging again. You backed away a second time, feeling your heart pounding in panic and knowing you didn’t stand a chance against a man of his stature.

Finally your luck ran out, and the man managed to hit you in the jaw, making you taste blood on your tongue. Before you could recover, one of his hands shot forward and grabbed you by the throat, and then, still keeping his big hand on your neck, he brought your entire torso down, slamming you to the ground. You hit your head hard and the glass shards on the floor embedded themselves in your skin, but in the next moment the sound of your painful scream was cut short. The grip the man had on your throat tightened, and you started to have difficulty breathing.

Your eyes budged in fear as realization of what was happening dawned on you, and you started to kick and struggle wildly, reaching for your attacker’s face, but he moved out of reach, still putting his whole weight down on you.

Your fists were hitting his forearms, your nails scratching his cheeks, whatever to make him let go. But he didn’t, his hands still squeezing your throat so strongly and crushing your esophagus.

“After I kill you, I’ll go kill your friend,” your attacker snickered, smiling viciously as he watched ice-cold panic enveloping you. “He’s not worthy of keeping him alive that long, anyway.”

Something ignited inside you at his words.

Joel.

You suddenly remembered the many self-defense lessons Joel had given you, so that whenever he wasn’t there to protect you, you could do it yourself. He was always so afraid for your life…

Slowly and with great effort, your fingers crept down, searching for the handle of your hunting knife, while dark spots started to appear before your vision, partially covering the sneering face of the man crushing your windpipe. He said something else – something you didn’t even hear because of the ringing in your ears…

And then with the last bit of your strength, you yanked the knife out of its sheath and buried the blade in the side of his neck.

Several things happened simultaneously: the man cried in surprise and let you go, the woman shouted a warning – too late – and you swung your leg over him, straddling and stabbing the man over and over again. His neck, his chest, his face, you didn’t even see what you were hitting. Screaming your lungs out and burying the blade in him again, and again, and again.

And again.

With an outraged, desperate cry, the woman lunged at you, but the adrenaline coursing through your system made you not even register something cutting deeply the skin of your arm, your veins and muscles giving way. You spun around, tumbling with her to the ground, but quickly managed to pin her down, blocking her arms in place with your knees, and pressing the tip of your knife to her chest.

She immediately stopped moving.

“Last fucking chance,” you croaked with difficulty, your neck bruised and swollen. “What… did you give him?”

You didn’t know if it was the sight of you, bloodied and wounded, the fact that you just violently killed her friend, or something else entirely – but now the woman looked scared.

“Okay,” she whispered, trying not to breathe too deeply, and glanced nervously at the blade pressed against her skin. “Okay, I’ll tell you, just don’t… It was a tranquilizer. Nothing dangerous, we just put him to sleep for a couple of hours. He was putting up quite a fight and the guys were getting antsy that he’ll pull something off before–”

“He’s not breathing,” you rasped viciously, sputtering blood onto her face. The woman flinched and took a shaky breath.

“His heart rate is slowed down, but it doesn’t– it shouldn’t kill him.”

You clenched your teeth, then exhaled. Inhaled.

You have to take a grip of yourself. He is alive. He has to be…

Should be.

The weight with which you had pinned her to the ground became lighter, and the woman sighed with relief when you removed the sharp end from her chest.

“It shouldn’t… kill him?” you repeated emptily, trying to dismiss the pain in your throat when you were speaking.

“No.”

Your head was still buzzing, but you tried to push it to the side, to focus on what was important right now.

“Why… did you take him?”

And just with that one, quiet question, the woman’s expression changed. You were considering letting her go, since you already hurt her pretty badly, but the sudden shift in her behavior set off alarm bells in your head once more.

“He’s a murderer,” the woman said, as if it was the most obvious answer. “A monster that would do everyone a favor if he got put down.”

White, blinding fury flooded your veins and it felt almost as if electricity was cracking above your skin. Your hand held the knife tighter.

‘Put down’, like… like an animal. She was talking about the man you loved–

You weren’t able to stop the hatred and rage flowing out of every pore of your skin. In one swift motion you plunged the knife into the woman’s chest, making her choke and gasp in surprise.

“You cannot call him that,” you spluttered, barely able to speak from the pain. “You…”

And then your hand forced its way lower down, still holding the handle of your weapon. Cutting through the woman’s – now struggling and screaming in agony – abdomen and guts.

They went so far as to abduct Joel, they took him from you, hurt and shot him, wanted to torture him, to make him suffer before they ultimately kill him…

But they didn’t, he can’t be dead, he can’t–

The woman was conscious the entire time as you were ripping her insides apart, and her screams died down only after you reached the navel.

Your vision was blurry and faltering when you stood up, but your heart was still beating steadily. There was an echo of a scream in your ears, though you couldn’t tell if it was your or the dead woman’s voice.

There wasn’t anyone else in the hallway. In the back of your mind you hoped that Tommy took care of any remaining enemies, because if they’d come running here, you didn’t think you’d be able to hear them in time.

Clutching your injured arm, you slowly made your way to the room where you left Joel and the man who attacked you first. Your gun was lying near the entrance and you picked it up before pushing the door open and staggering inside.

The man wasn’t where you left him. Instead there was a big pool of blood, forming into a wide, smeared path leading further into the lobby. At the end of it you saw him, groaning and crawling to the exit.

You reloaded the gun and walked closer. At the sound, the man turned his head and his eyes widened when he saw you.

“You fucking psycho!” he spat, bracing himself on the elbow of his left arm – the only one still working. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?! When she sees it, they’ll come for you, and they’ll make sure that the two of you will fucking pay for it!”

His words were flowing through you as you struggled to keep your vision focused. You felt weird – almost like waking up way too early and finding your body not listening to you entirely.

Then you realized. The hungry, burning anger was gone, the embers of hatred slowly dying out. There was only smoke and emptiness left inside you.

“I don’t care,” you mumbled, not loud enough for the man to hear you, but that didn’t matter – two seconds later he was dead, his brain splattered all over the floor behind him.

Your hand was shaking. Cold crept up your limbs, embracing and almost choking you as you breathed in, out, faster and faster as you finally comprehended what you did.

Your eyes moved down to the man’s indented knee, completely smashed into a bloody mess. The other limb was all wrong, his foot sticking in the opposite direction and no wonder he had to crawl to get away from you, you destroyed his legs, you…

You staggered backwards, your pupils darting to the hallway just for a second before returning to the battered corpse in front of you. The back of his skull was gone now, but how did he stay conscious for so long after you smashed his head with a metal pipe? There was so much blood on it… How much pain he must have felt after you left him?

And that woman… He begged you to leave her alone, and you… you ripped her open…

You moved back, back and further away, before tripping and falling to the floor. Your breaths were fast and shallow, and you reached for your neck, sore and swollen from almost being strangled, trying to will your lungs to work.

They were bad people. They took and hurt Joel, and planned to kill him. You had to kill them, they’d kill you in a heartbeat, they…

It wasn’t like you’ve never taken a life before, but it was the first time that you inflicted pain on somebody on purpose – not in self-defense, but because you wanted to retaliate. It was done in revenge.

You didn’t know for how long you had sat there when you heard someone saying your name. It sounded like… No, it couldn’t have been his voice, he was unconscious, he wasn’t breathing…

Suddenly, Tommy’s face appeared in your blurry field of vision – of course it was him, their voices were so similar, after all – and there was a deep crease between his brows. He looked worried and fearful, and–

“Snap out of it,” he said firmly, shaking your shoulders harder than he should have. Your name fell from his lips when you didn’t answer, and his eyes followed yours to a battered body on the floor. “Look at me. Look at me.” Tommy forcefully turned your chin in his direction, and his eyes were full of sorrow and pain. “You did what you had to do.”

You shook your head, swallowing the tears that streamed down your face. He didn’t know what you did. He didn’t understand what happened here, what happened with you… You yourself didn’t know what happened to you.

Tommy brought you closer to his chest, enveloping you in his strong embrace and the smell of leather and gunpowder. You choked on air, unable to stop the sobs racking your body, and deaf to his words, for the only thing you could hear were cracks of bones, screams of pain, and your own vengeful cries.

It was so loud in your mind that you almost missed a quiet grunt coming from behind you.

*****

Joel slowly opened his eye, then groaned and closed it again. He felt like shit and it was so hard to breathe, but he pushed through the pain and discomfort from the wound in his side, and tried again.

The first thing he saw was the greenish curtain, hiding the rest of the room from him, but judging by the fact that he was lying in bed, alive, with apparently all his wounds dressed, he figured it wasn’t the same place that group of angry youngsters took him to.

Lifting his head and turning it to the other side was a tremendous task, but it was so worth it – because there was you. Sitting in a chair next to him, asleep and with your head lying on folded arms on his bed. Joel smiled softly, but then furrowed his brows as a pang of anxiety shot right through him.

Your face was a mess, with cuts and bruises healing, your brow was split, and one of your forearms had a bandage wrapped around it, now a little dirty around the edges. Joel couldn’t see clearly, but your neck seemed… dark, as if the skin was bruised there, too.

What the hell happened?

He lifted his arm – the tingles and needles pierced his stiff limb – and brushed your cheek lightly, trying to wake you.

“Darlin’...” he murmured, and you stirred. He tried to say it again, louder this time, but his throat was scratchy and he winced at the feeling. There was no need for it, however, because in the next moment your eyes fluttered open and then widened when you took in the sight of him, realizing he’s awake.

“Joel!” Your hands – God, he missed the feeling of them – cupped his face gently, and your eyes filled with tears in the matter of seconds. “Oh my god, baby…”

“Hey, hey, I’m fine,” he breathed out quickly, not wanting to see you cry. “It’s okay, darlin’... I’m here.”

You sobbed with a dazzling smile, your beautiful eyes dancing across his features before you darted forward and pressed your lips to his firmly. Joel could almost taste the desperation and worry in your shaky breaths and tears that fell from your eyes and onto his tongue. He wanted to tangle his fingers in your hair and bring you in closer, but a sudden, sharp pain pierced his arm when he tried to move it, and he hissed into your mouth.

“Sorry,” you whispered and moved away quickly, letting out a broken laugh and brushing the unruly strands of hair away from his forehead. “I’m just so happy you’re okay.”

Joel wanted to ask what exactly had happened while he was out, but before he got a chance, you leaned in again and started softly peppering his face in kisses – first his cheek, then his forehead, then the tip of his nose and his chin. And Joel didn’t have the heart to stop you.

And that’s how Ellie found you both. She gagged when she saw the display of affection, but there was a grin on her face when he looked over at her.

“Gross,” she scrunched her nose. “But I’m glad to see you awake.”

“Yeah, well, I still feel pretty shitty,” he grunted, scanning the kid for any injuries, but she didn’t look any worse for the wear. His eyes strayed to your neck again, and the concern came back double-barreled. “What happened to you, sweetheart? Where–”

“I’ll… go get the doctor.” You stood up abruptly before he could finish, and looked over at Ellie. “Will you stay with him?”

“Yeah. Sure.” The teen shrugged, but now was avoiding Joel’s eyes, and he felt more uneasy and agitated by the second.

“Okay. Be right back, love. Gonna grab you some water, too.” You squeezed his hand and smiled. Joel’s eyes escorted you, and when he made sure you were out of the earshot, he turned to Ellie.

“What happened?”

“Well.�� The teen blew out her cheeks and went to take a seat you previously occupied. “You were attacked during the patrol…”

“Yeah, no, that I remember,” Joel interrupted quietly. “They shot me, took me to that ski resort. But how am I here? Did she…”

He trailed off. Ellie looked at the curtain you disappeared behind, then back at Joel. “Listen, I wasn’t there, so m’not sure,” she mumbled quietly. “But after she and Tommy got you out, she was sorta… different.”

“Different how?” he asked sharply. Ellie bit the inside of her cheek, looking away. “Ellie.”

“I don’t know, okay?” she answered in a sudden burst. “She looked like hell. You saw her neck, I think someone tried to choke her, and she had an ugly cut on her leg, a fuckton of cuts and bruises… And the doctor spent hours getting all the glass shards out of her.”

Joel got up as much as he could, feeling a pit of anxiety rising in his chest. Ellie was silent for a while before she spoke again, this time surprisingly softly.

“Remember when you beat the shit out of that soldier when we were escaping QZ in Boston?” Joel nodded slightly – she did, too. “Yeah. She had a similar… kind of look on her face, and it looked… not exactly scary, but alien.” The teen looked up. “My guess is she did some fucked up shit to get to you. Tommy said she’s been having real bad nightmares since then, but he doesn’t want to tell me–”

Ellie snapped her mouth shut at the sound of footsteps, and a few seconds later you emerged from behind the curtain. You had a tall glass of water in your hand and a small, hopeful smile that grew when your eyes fell on Joel’s face.

“I know you’d probably prefer something stronger, but water will do you good,” you said, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they were just talking about you. Joel watched as you carefully sat down at the edge of his bed and put down the glass onto the table to his side. “One of the nurses will come here in a couple of minutes. You were unconscious for a couple of days so they want to make sure everything is okay.”

“I told you I’m fine, darlin’...”

“Please.” You gently took his hand in both of yours, staring at him with concern. “For me?”

Joel looked you over, his eyes lingering on your bruised neck and the bandage around your thigh which he didn’t notice before. Then he glanced at Ellie with worry, not knowing how to approach this problem or ask what exactly happened to you.

Your eyes were a little red and puffy, and he briefly thought about what the kid said: that you have had terrible nightmares, that apparently you went through some sort of hell to save him. It seemed that whatever you had done, it took its heavy toll on you. And he couldn’t bear it.

Joel hated the thought of you risking your life for him, of the experience branding you so deeply that you lost sleep because of it.

Because of him.

The only thing he could do right now was to be there for you. And maybe – just maybe, if he tried hard enough – to do something about those of your scars that he couldn’t see.

He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, keeping his eyes on yours the entire time.

“Okay,” came his soft answer, to which you smiled with relief. “Whatever you wish, darlin’.”

No snarky remark, no groaning or muttering could be heard from Ellie, and that worried Joel much more than he’d ever admit. He exchanged a worried look with her while you were distracted, drawing patterns on the back of his hand with tender fingers.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he heard you say quietly, though it was unclear whether you were talking to him or yourself.

Either way, Joel squeezed your hand tighter, now feeling oddly afraid of letting go.

“Yes, darlin’,” he confirmed in a soothing manner. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

#joel miller x reader #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller angst #joel tlou #tlou hbo #btw i tried to do some research on tranquilizers and anesthesia drugs but i didn't find anything clear so. everything you read is made up #i could have wrote it better but.. eh #it was challenging enough and i can't believe i've spent almost a month on it

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cookiepie111 · 9 months

Text

Bite me. Love me

König x black reader

Part 2

A/N-He's weird a walking red flag but the red flags are hazy almost like they're not there? Like a marage. His red flags are something you quite can't put a finger on at first until you realise it's everything it's the sum of all he's doing. A good boyfriend but a bit strange Idk he's sort of a you gotta get uncomfortable before you get comfortable

For me könig a bit of a strange man a man. He kinda understands social cues, but sometimes gets them a bit wrong. he slightly pushes your boutons and boundaries to see what he can get away with and how he can squeeze you

It's kinda like he has you in his teeth but he's not actually biting down, just grinding and rolling you in-between his teeth, he likes it and you're 'safe' that way, he wouldn't actually hurt you

Listen, sorry for all that yapping, but you needed to hear it. Anyway, a longer/second part to könig failed flirting attempt.Please like, reblog, and comment. Not proofread

Tag list: @thatmusedhatter @himboelover @canyonswft13 @montenegroisr @kneelingshadowsalome @havikshoochiemama @wordstome @lanalafey

You lost a bag that's cool, that's fine, although wouldn't call it lost, stolen more like given? Bag was practically thrown it into the robbers' hands. self-preservation above all else.

You couldn't focus on a single thing. Thoughts and worries tangle in your head as you recall the past events in your kitchen. You survive all that time back home, not getting robbed, only for your black ass to be robbed in a cafe in Austria!

'Come to Austria they said it'll be fun they said!'

ID, cards, money, everything in that bag gone. Thrown to the hands of a strange man. Why you. You'd have to go to the police, file a report, call the bank, and freeze your cards. "Aghhh!" All you could do was drop the floor and cry.

Surprisingly, this wasn't the worst pick-up fail könig had, so he can at least find comfort in that. can't get any lower than rock bottom...

The purse in his hands looked comical small, maybe its him, his hands that are making it look so small. you couldn't keep all your things in here? maybe it's a trend for women to carry purses the size of apples, putting fashion over function. Not something that könig would do.

Those who saw the whole ordeal go down, now eye him with suspicion, wondering what his next move will be, gripping their own items closer. He can only laugh to himself if he wanted he'd have no problem taking their stuff away. But it's better to leave so he can find you.

Walking out, he takes the time to look through your bag. cards, ID, cash, so manu important things, and you just handed them over to him. Playing with the ID card in his hands, mulling over your features. you had such a pretty name, such a serious face you were making in your photo too, not at all like the frightened look you had before.

It's more than enough to track you down he still didn't get the chance to ask you out. He couldn't bring it back empty-handed. Maybe a new purse would do.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

The kitchen floor provides a surprising amount of comfort in these moments. 5 panic attacks down, and you're only down starting to cry. The knock on the door is either about to be a blessing or curse. Maybe the police finally came, or a good samartain got your purse back.

There wouldn't be any blessing today. The other side of the door only showed your assailant. If the panic attacks weren't enough to send you over the edge, spiralling, seeing this man at your door certainly was. taking your purse wasn't enough, like some sick grim reaper he's come for your life.

Playing dead is an option, right? You'd have to be stupid to think you could outrun this man. Yeah, laying down for a quick kill would be best-

" I brought you a gift, to apologise"

A gift?

You kept your eyes on bag half because you couldn't believe him and also you were too scared to look him in the eyes.

"It seems I scared you back at the cafe, I only wanted to ask you out" he holds out a bag in front of you.

Ha. It was a mistake. A simple misunderstanding. You'd spent the better half of today crying on the floor because of some big man's poor flirting skills. You wanted to cry again.

Might as well take the bag. What's one more mistake or bad choice today. All your items are there, and you suddenly feel relife, tears welling in eyes as your knees buckle. Your purse, cards, sweets, the second half of the book you're reading? Wait, some of this isn't yours.... was he using your bag to hold his stuff?? You stare back at him, waiting for an answer.

" they're yours a gift to apologize"

"Oh"

Maybe it's all in your head. You're just on edge in a new place. You feel like you can finally relax. The tension knotted in your shoulders slowly unravels. You feel silly and like a wet dog

" I'm sorry about that. Thank you for bringing it back,"

"A date"

What. You see him now only closer than before threatening to enter the boundaries of your home.

" Let me take you out for a drink to apologise." It's such an intense stare he has, focused souly on you. It makes you uncomfortable, stepping back slightly to put some space between you, a bad idea, as he matched your pace stepping forward, foot now fully in your house. You started in disbelief. There's no way this man just stepped in your house, muddy shoes and all. For the last time today, you look back at him, annoyed. An surprise for könig but not an unwelcome one.

"I don't drink"

"coffee"

"No"

"Tea"

"Hmm "

he squints and pauses at that answer

'"a cafe"

"Leave please"

"I'll pick you up on Thursday"

He's barley out the door before you shut it on him, locking the door and pulling the chain

she didn't say no right away. That means he still got a chance.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

It's Thursday afternoon and once again you're sat in the kitchen panicking as your feet tap along with the rhythm of the clock.

The whole morning was spent worrying out your mind. It's a miracle your heart hasn't given out yet. Maybe he was just messing you, and now you've spent the whole morning worrying for nothing. more time passed, and your worry turned to annoyance. You did your whole makeup for this, and he didn't show.

You jump up at the sound of the door, rushing to open it. You pause. Taking a moment to collect yourself before before opening the door.

He looks better than before, still donning that scary balaclava, but in more casual clothes and flowers in hand. He's too forward with his actions, pushing the bouquet in your hands before he even spoke.

It's awkward. He doesn't say much(because that worked so well the first time), and neither do you. This silent walk is too painful to bear.

At least you can say he's a gentleman (sort of). The date was paid in full, and he got a gift. You've learned a few things about könig now. His jokes are cheesy, but they did make you laugh. He resides in an upscale apartment that's too big for him (his words)outside of the city centre. Currently on break from the army (a potential red flag that'll lingered in your thoughts), he's got a big appetite and love for strong drinks.

This afternoon hadn't been all that unpleasant. You quite like the man, you find some strange comfort and safety in him. It's even nice when he pulls you close to him, resting a hand on your hip.

"Haha, are you happy to see me, or is that a knife in your pocket?"

"Knife."

"Hah-" and He pulled out a blade.

...

Oh. Now we're back to weird again.

Why couldn't he just be normal!? It's too casual the tricks he's doing with the knife. How were you supposed to pretend this was normal

You try your best to smile, to not turn and flee scream but your lips tremble. You're really wishing he did have a boner instead. You're not sure what to say or what annoys you more how casual he is, not a single worry on his face.

This is exactly why you shouldn't go out with strange men who randomly appear at your doorstep. At the very least, he's a strong contender for the "Most Heart Attacks Caused by a Man" award.

König wasn't stupid he could sense your worry as you tried to hide behind a lopsided smile. Watching your eyes shift between him and blade, waiting for his next move. You're cute. He'll have fun messing with you.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

You couldn't be happier to be home. You survived! You'd never have to see that nasty man again!

*beep*

It doesn't matter how long you stare at your phone in confusion and annoyance. The message on your phone is clear

......

Where did this man even get your number!? He's known for a 2 whole day's, there's no chance he knows anyone close to you.

You're never going to be free of this man

#könig x black reader #könig x reader #cod x black reader #call of duty x black reader #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #könig x you #könig x y/n #black reader insert #x black reader #könig imagine #my writing #konig x reader #konig call of duty #black reader #black writers #black writblr

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raffe156 · 1 year

Text

Quick Drabble based around an ask from the lovely roaringinthedeep💖

Hope you like it 😂

“He’s going to say no”

“Noooooo really Kyle? What makes you think that?”

Kyle looked at you his face dead pan.

“I’m not going to tell him, I’ll keep him in your room”

“Wait what? Tank he’s not staying in my room! I’ve already got Lucy in there….”

You tilted your head.

“Lucy?….you named the cat lucy?”

“….yeh she’s pretty…an Lucy is a pretty name…why what?”

“No!….nothing, it is a pretty name!”

“Ohh an what you going to name this guy?”

“…..”

“Well?”

“Sid…”

“Sid?” Kyle cocked his eyebrow at you.

“Yeh Sid vicious”

“For god sake Tank! Wouldn’t he be better in one of the rookies room?”

“Nope, the majority of them already have a kitten or two each remember….the litter we found the other week? To be honest we’ve done pretty well considering…Price hasn’t clocked any of them yet touch wood!” You knocked on Kyles head laughing.

“Shit yeh we have…what about you keeping him in your room?…Price is more likely to be on my side of the base than he is yours, let alone your room!”

You went silent, your eyes wandering away from Kyles. He didn’t know how wrong he was.

“….No….no just get him in your room…I’ll send Rudy your way he said he can get some dog food but for now don’t let anyone see him! I’ll keep Price occupied”

You handed Kyle the makeshift lead and crouched giving Sid a kiss.

“Now you be a good boy for uncle Kyle! mummy is going to sort somethings out but I’m sure uncle Kyles won’t mind giving you a bath while she’s away! Yeh? Yeh? Good boy!” You scratched Sids ears.

“You want me to give him a bath? Tank!”

“Be a good boy Kyle!”

He was already mumbling something else but you had already walked away looking for Price.

*******

“Tank you really need to check over your mission reports before submitting them to me…not that I don’t mind this quality time that we get, but I’m practically rewriting this for you…” Price looked up at you.

You shifted on his lap, a pout forming.

“It’s hard when you have Soap reading out loud, sometimes I write what he’s saying..see that line there? Soap said that…” you rested you head on his shoulder.

“So why didn’t you rewrite it to make sense?” It was a genuine question.

“…..by that point I was too far in…anyway where were we?” You pressed yourself into him, your lips finding his earlobe. It made his face flush you could tell he liked it he was shifting in his seat.

“Haha I hope this isn’t a distraction tactic Tank?”

You stopped immediately, pulling back to look him in the face.

“What…what do you mean by that? Why would I need to distract you?” Maybe he was already on to you. Maybe one of the rookies had fucked up…

Price looked confused.

“I mean you are clearly trying to distract me from your shitty penmanship? And mildly inaccurate report?” Price cocked his eyebrow at you, he had a feeling you were hiding something else now and as if the universe had answered his suspicions there was a loud bang and shouting coming from the hanger.

Your head whipped to the direction of his office door a slight look of panic on your face, you could hear Kyle shouting followed by Rudy yelling something in Spanish.

Shit.

“What the fucks going on out there?” Price looked at you again.

“Don’t know…leave ‘em to it I say…” you tried your hardest to bring his focus back to you, but it was no good Price was already standing up causing you to slide off his lap.

Shit.

“Tank, something tells me that whatever is going on out there has something to do with you…please tell me I’m wrong..”

“You’re wrong?”

“Surprisingly I’m not convinced” an with that he walked out of his office with you close behind.

Price wasn’t prepared for the utter scene he was presented with.

Kyle was holding a cat, Soap was gripping a large “dog” by its collar an Ghost was holding a small black kitten in his hand, a crowd had gathered. What the actual hell? He glanced down at you, you 100% were behind this he knew that for a fact. He pinched the bridge of his nose an let out a large sigh.

“Can someone please help me understand what is going on? I know which individual is behind it but why has it now become a group project?”

“I haven’t a clue Captain, me an Ghost were just out here minding our business, just been tormenting some rookies…then all of a sudden out comes that cat Kyle has hold of being chased by this big wet bastard!” Soap readjusted his hold on Sids collar.

You looked at them both…Soap was soaked and Sid still have some foam on his coat. Kyle had tried to bath him!

Everyone looked at each other in agreement as Price turned to you again. You tried to think quick.

“Wanna explain yourself kid?”

“Not really sir no”

“Your not keeping him…”

Your face dropped, you knew that was going to be the answer…but you thought you would have more time to convince him.

“Why not…he can stay on base then we can ship him back with us…”

“That’s a coyote Tank…” Ghost didn’t even look up when he spoke, the little black kitten had made its way under his hoodie.

Everyone turned their heads to look at Soap an Sid…who was licking Soaps face. Oh on further inspection yeh he was kind of more wolf like than dog like….

Soap must not of heard Ghost as he now had Sid on his back an was rubbing his belly asking him ‘who’s a good boy’, Kyle looked mortified as he held Lucy closer to his chest.

“Well to be fair in the dark he looked like a husky mix…”

You looked at Price he wasn’t amused.

“Rudy can you sort this please, call the right people? I think we have enough wild animals on the base thank you” he sighed as he gripped the back of your neck.

“Oh so you know about the litter of kittens the rookies have, that where you got that little guy Lt?”Kyle looked shocked.

“Yep” Ghost answered.

Price rolled his eyes.

“No Kyle….I didn’t..”

Price’s grip on your neck got a tiny bit tighter.

Shit.

#captain price #captain john price #john price #price x tank #call of duty #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw #modern warfare #task force 141 #ghost #ghost simon riley #kyle gaz garrick #cod oc tank #cod oc #cod drabble

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sameheart-sameblood · 1 year

Text

Turn of the Tide

pairing: wojchek x f!reader

summary: wojchek discovers you've disguised yourself as a man to work aboard the demeter and agrees to keep your secret. he begins treating you different than the other crewmates and you confront him about his unfair behavior

words: 2.8k

warnings: angst, mentions of reader's sad background, chest binding, fluff, me not knowing anything about ships and what happens on them

a/n: popping in to say i'm not dead, just depressed and busy lol. truly grateful to this character for pulling me out of my fic slump. im back to once again make a grumpy fictional man way softer than he was ever meant to be hahaha. also guess im obsessed with david dastmalchian now?? didn't have that on my 2023 bingo card tbh

read on ao3!

Sailors believe in many things. A red sunrise can send them into a panic, anticipating the swells and overbearing winds they’re so sure are to come. Red skies at night, however, can make even the most pessimistic crewmate believe there’s fair weather on the way. Captains refuse to set sail on Fridays, sailors place coins under the mast for good fortune and mariners daren’t whistle lest they summon a storm. Many vessels even have a cat aboard, the little creatures seen to bring luck (and sharp teeth to lessen the rat population).

Sailors believe in many things but above all they can agree that a woman on board is bad luck. Which seems silly to you because here you are, a woman who’s been on board The Demeter for many months now. Your presence had not brought ill fortune to the vessel. In fact, the weather had remained pleasant, despite the late summer month’s usual downpours and hurricanes.

Granted none of the crew knew you were a woman. You had disguised yourself as a man, hair cut short and chest bound tightly, but that didn’t change the fact of your sex. A life of adventure on the seas had always called to you but there was no possibility of you being granted work on a ship. The only woman allowed onboard was the carved wooden figurehead of a mermaid that decorated the bow of a vessel. There was no place for you at sea.

Not one to take no for an answer, you found your own way to get work as a sailor. You had spent time aboard trading ships, learning the ways of the trade and earning the trust of the men you crewed alongside. Your last posting had gone so well that the captain of that ship had recommended you to a friend for your next job.

That friend had turned out to be Captain Eliot of The Demeter. Captain Eliot and his First Mate, Wojchek, had asked you a few questions, all of which you answered confidently. The Captain was a kind man who remarked positively at your experience. The First Mate, however, was standoffish, challenging your every answer. Wojchek frowned slightly as the Captain offered you the posting and as they walked away you heard him mutter, “He’s too scrawny, Captain. He won’t be able to pull his weight.”

Captain Eliot had only chuckled, “I thought the same thing when I hired you. Look how wrong I was. You must learn to give people chances, Mr. Wojchek.”

While you appreciated the Captain’s confidence, you made it your mission to show this Mr. Wojchek just how mistaken he was. And for a time, your life aboard the ship was simple. You performed your duties well, befriended the men, took initiative and came to be seen as one of the more ambitious members of the crew. Even Wojchek had to admit, although never to your face, that your were one of the better sailors who had worked under him.

That good will you had earned was probably the only thing that kept the First Mate from throwing you overboard when he found out who you really were. Your secret was discovered when Wojchek had walked in on you unannounced and had discovered you securing your chest binding. After much fussing, he had threatened to toss you off at the next port.

You had pleaded with him to show some kindness and let you stay. Eventually, Wojchek reluctantly agreed to let you remain aboard but warned that he couldn’t help you if the rest of the crew found the truth about you. You had promised him that if you were discovered, you would never let on that he had been any the wiser.

The two of you came to an uneasy agreement and work continued, albeit now with a strained air between you. The men would often remark how the first mate would give you the hardest tasks. You had to agree with them. It did feel like Wojchek was taking out his frustration on you. After one particularly grueling day where he had assigned you to a back to back deck watch, you knew you had no choice but to confront him.

******

You find him in the tiny room assigned to the First Mate of the ship . It was one of the few luxuries he was given on the boat. Whereas you and the other sailors slept where they could in hammocks tied between posts and amongst the cargo, Wojchek had a tiny room all to himself. He even had a porthole, something he takes great pride in.

You hear him groan as you continuously knock on the door, disrupting his peace. Footsteps approach and the door squeaks open. Wojchek grimaces down at you.

“What is it, sailor?”

“I need to speak with you, sir.”

“I don’t have time. Neither do you. It’s nearly your watch.”

“I’m not due on deck for a good while yet.”

“We can talk later. Be on your way.”

He starts to close the door but you push against it, anger surging through you at his dismissal. You barge into his room, slamming the door behind you. Wojchek’s eyes widen for a moment, caught off guard by your boldness. But a moment later, he’s back to his usual gruff self. He glowers, backing away from you like you carry a disease he’s worried is catching.

“This isn’t appropriate.”

“Why? Because I’m a woman?”

“Keep your voice down!”

“It’s not a dirty word.”

“It is when you are disguised as a man on a ship. I’ve kept your secret and I’ll continue to do so. If any of the others were to find out, though…”

“I’ve been sailing with these men for nearly a year. They’re my friends but they’re not the most observant. I think my secret is safe. Besides, if they found out…” you lead off, shrugging your shoulders.

Wojchek’s face darkens at your blasé attitude. “You think these men are your friends? They would turn on you the second they found out the truth about you.”

“That’s not true,” you retort, “just because you hate me doesn’t mean they would.”

“When did I ever say I hate you?”

“You don’t have to. The way you treat me is proof enough. The others may not have realized I’m a woman but they have started to notice you seem to give me the worst tasks and the most watches. They know you don’t like me. Sooner or later, they’ll really try and figure out why. You might be the one that reveals my secret to them without meaning to.”

“I don’t hate you, I…”

He looks at you. Really looks at you, something he tried not to do very often once he noticed how catching sight of you made his heart skip a beat. His shoulders tense as he stares into your bright, vulnerable eyes, so out of place in a sailor.

“You have no idea what a life at sea does to you.” He anticipates the retort you have ready to throw at him and holds up a silencing hand, imploring you to let him finish. “You’ve been on The Demeter for almost a year. No small feat for anyone, man or woman. You’re a good sailor. One of my best. People like you all start out the same, hungry for adventure. They see a life sailing from place to place as an answer to all their problems. And for a time, they’re happy. But eventually, the work breaks you. It keeps you from your family, from your friends. People on land move on while you’re away for months, even years at a time. ”

Wojchek pauses, all the fight leaving him. “When you come back to port, you look for those who promised they’d always be there for you but one day they don’t come back. The ship’s arrival to land no longer brings hope and the sea can no longer mend the hurt that’s inside you. ” He lowers his gaze, perhaps remembering those whom he’s lost over the years.

“The light leaves the men’s eyes once they realize that their world has shrunk to the size of this ship. They have nowhere else they belong. It’s suffocating. They grow resentful. I don’t want that for you. I don’t want to see the light leave your eyes.”

The whiplash of it all makes your head spin. You’ve been so convinced these last few months that this man hates you. Now he’s speaking to you more than he has this whole year. Not only that, it seems the worry over your wellbeing has cost him sleep. More so than a First Mate is supposed to spend worrying about a subordinate…

The light in your eyes? Honestly, you didn’t know that was something you possessed. Maybe a glint of steely determination but you would never have called it anything akin to hope. Your life had always been hard. Being born a woman made life a constant struggle. Being born a poor one made it near impossible.

Wojchek hasn’t moved, still close enough that you can feel the heat coming off of him in the crisp autumn night air that seeps through the tiny cracks in the ship. His eyes, however, keep jumping between your face and the floor. What he’s said has finally sunk in and along with it, his shame of wearing his heart on his sleeve.

You keep your voice low as not to scare him. Seeing the usual rock of a man so skittish makes you approach your next words with the same precision as someone handling explosives. “I was born in squalor to a family that saw my existence as nothing more than a burden. I spent most of my days wondering where my next meal would come from and if I’d have somewhere to sleep. I learned to deal with my lack of means. The thing I never could get over was the fact that I had no one in my life who cared if I lived or died.”

This is nothing you haven’t thought before but something about saying it aloud takes your breath away. A pressure grows in your chest as you fight the emotion that comes with revealing your own secrets. Wojchek doesn’t make it any easier, his once darting gaze now fixed intently on you. It’s your turn to avoid his dark eyes, staring at your shoes as you continue.

“I was never truly happy until I came on The Demeter. I have food, my own bed, purpose, adventure…friends,” the last word almost doesn’t make it past your throat, now tight with emotion. “I finally feel like I have a home.”

It’s only fair that you tell him the whole of your truth seeing how he’d kept your secret for the last few months. He deserves that much. The tension in the room swirls thick but you aren’t sure if it’s because the First Mate is preparing to send you away or not. You wouldn’t blame him if he did throw you off the ship. With you gone, everything could return to the way it was. It might be better for everyone.

You become lost in your own dark thoughts. Wojchek reaches out a hand, brushing your hair, shorn short and shaggy as part of your disguise, off of your face. You close your eyes at the touch, savoring the feel of his calloused fingers skimming so gently across your skin. All too soon, he’s pulling his hand away, remembering himself.

“The Demeter is also the only home I’ve ever known,” Wojchek admits, “It’s a good ship and she’s been strong and true to me. If you’re sure this is where you want to be then you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

You nod your thanks, tears threatening to spill again at the relief of knowing you don’t have to leave. When they begin to roll down your cheeks despite your efforts to keep them hidden, Wojchek tuts softly, “Everything will be alright, kotku.”

You may not know the meaning of the word but you can understand from the tenderness in his eyes that it’s a term of endearment in his native tongue. The realization makes you bold.

“It’s not just the ship or the crew that make The Demeter my home. It’s you.” You force yourself to maintain eye contact with Wojchek, fighting the instinct to look away. The though that he may not return the strength of your feelings sends a shiver of fear through you but you need him to understand how you feel.

Wojchek searches your face for some deceit but finds only raw truth. He takes a step forward mere inches between you now. His hands twitch to reach for you again but he holds himself back. Above all else, Wojchek is a professional. Just because he thinks you want him doesn’t mean he’ll take the risk of abusing the power imbalance between you.

Instead, you take the initiative. “May I kiss you, Mr. Wojchek?” It comes out as nothing more than a whisper but he nods. You lean in, teetering on your toes, never realizing how tall he actually was until now. A particularly strong wave hits the ship and you lose your balance. Before you can lose your footing, he has you in his arms.

Wojchek hikes you up, bringing your face level to his. Years of working the ship have made him strong as an ox and he thanks the gods that he finally has good use for the muscles that hide beneath his tunic.

You press your lips to his and it takes you a few moments to remember to breathe. The kiss is trepidatious and sweet but leaves your stomach swirling with butterflies. Wojchek’s grip tightens on you, scared he’ll find that you’ve been some sprite in his dream that the morning sun will chase away. It feels good to be pressed together like this, limbs intertwined so you’re not sure where you end and he begins.

All too soon, he breaks away, gasping slightly. It seems you weren’t the only one who forgot how breathing works. The sight of the usually stern man so undone by a chaste kiss makes you chuckle. Your hand grazes his cheek, running over his stubble. It’s strange to remember that just an hour ago you were convinced Wojchek wanted nothing more than to throw you overboard. Now he’s holding you like he’ll never let you go. How quickly life can change for the better.

The tranquility is broken by the banging of Olgaren resonating through the wood of the ship. Your watch will soon begin and if you aren’t there to take your post, someone will come looking for you. The ship won’t sail itself and you sigh, realizing you can’t put off your responsibilities in favor of staying with Wojchek all night.

The First Mate groans, “Stay a little longer.”

“I’m late as it is!” You smile at his pout. It’s a new expression you’ve never seen from his before and you push him down onto his tiny bed, kissing him once again. Another bang resounds through the ship and you whine, getting back to your feet.

“I’ll make Abrams cover your watch.” Wojchek offers, staring up at you with comically pleading eyes.

“You’ll have a mutiny on your hands if you come between that man and his sleep. Besides, it’s only four hours. You can even come visit me on deck if you like. It’s single watch so there won’t be anyone around to wonder why we’re together.”

“Four hours?” he grumbles.

“You’re the one who assigned me double watch!”

Wojchek leans back, watching you button your jacket, trying your best to look presentable. He can’t help but smile at the commitment to your work ethic. “I’ll be up as soon as you relieve Olgaren.”

You nod, trying to remove the smile plastered on your face but failing miserably. Hopefully Olgaren is too tired to ask questions when he sees you. “See you soon.”

You’re about to open the door when you remember something. “What does kotku mean?”

Wojchek smiles, “Little cat.”

Once again you’re struck by the sweetness of a man so eager to have the world call him unfeeling. The nickname makes sense. You yourself believe that your presence seems to bring fair weather and good luck to the boat. The Demeter might not have a four legged feline to bring fair fortune but you’re the next best thing; positive, tenacious and willing to do anything for the good of the ship and crew.

You grin at Wojchek, who now lounges happily on his tiny bed, looking somewhat feline himself. “Are you sure you want to call me that? A ship can never be without a cat. It’s bad luck. You’ll never be rid of me.”

Wojchek smiles contentedly, blinking slowly, sleep seemingly not far off. The chances of him joining you on deck for the evening appear to be dwindling. You’d be devastated if he didn’t look so adorable. He nods, beckoning you for one last kiss goodbye. “Good. I’ll keep calling you kotku so we never have to be apart.”

******

#brb on my way to become a sailor so i can meet a grumpy first mate of my own #also it's criminal how little of wojchek was actually in the movie :/#wojchek x reader #wojchek x you #wojchek #last voyage of the demeter #allie writes

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fetusgooseandjuice · 2 years

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Mission Gone Wrong

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: You go missing during a mission and Natasha is determined to find you.

Word Count: 1,252

Natasha's POV:

It had been five hours since Y/N left. Fury had sent her on a quick last minute mission, and it was supposed to be simple and easy. She was supposed to be in and out which would only take an hour tops. But her comm line and vital readings went dead almost four and a half hours ago.

"Have you gotten in contact with her yet?" I asked as I walked into the room.

Tony and Bruce were working in the lab trying to get the communication system up and running again.

"Not yet, but I managed to get her vital readings back up." Bruce said as he pointed to a monitor on the table.

I walked over to the table to look at the screen, but angrily pushed it away after a few seconds of looking at it.

"Oh my god. Guys are you serious? All this time and this is only information you've been able to get on her?!" I said, unconsciously raising my voice a little, using my hand to gesture to the computer screen.

"Natasha come on sit down for a minute. They're trying their best, let them work." Clint said as he walked into the room.

"Their best? These are two of the smartest men in the god damn world and they haven't been able to get in contact with Y/N?!" I yelled.

"Natasha I get it, they'll find her it's okay. But yelling at them isn't gonna make finding her go any faster." Clint told me in a soft voice, trying to calm me down.

"None of this is okay! Y/N is still out in the field and we have no way to communicate with her. Her vitals are stable, but for how much longer?! We don't even know where she is, so please tell me what part of this situation is okay!?"

I knew that this wasn't making anything easier on them, but I couldn't help it. Y/N is everything to me, and not having any intel on her current condition was making me panic.

Yelena entered the room and saw my emotions starting to get the best of me.

"Sestra I think you need to take a little break." she said as she grabbed my arm and led me out of the room.

Leading me into the kitchen, she sat me down in chair at the counter and walked towards the fridge.

"Lena I can't I need to-" she interrupted me.

"Natasha you need to take a minute and sit down. This isn't what Y/N would want for you, and yelling at the only people cable of finding contact with her isn't gonna help bring her back to you." she said.

I covered my face with my hands and heavily sighed.

"Y/N is a strong girl and she loves you too much to even think about letting this morning be the last you got to see her." Lena spoke as she put a glass of water in front of me.

I started to cry just thinking about her. Was she okay? Was she scared? Is she in pain?

"Sestra-" Even though she hated physical touch, Yelena wrapped me in a tight hug knowing that I needed one. I started to sob as I clung onto her shirt.

Y/N was my world, and I needed her to come back to me. Lena managed to get me to eat a sandwich and drink some water. She wanted me to try and get some rest and told me she would come get me if there were any updates, but I couldn't knowing that my girl was still out there alone and not in the warmth of my arms.

About half an hour later, I started to get more anxious and impatient. So despite my sisters' protests, I made my way back to the lab.

It looked like Wanda and Clint were trying to listen back to the recordings of our communications when the comms were still on to see if there was anything unusual about them.

"Anything new?" I asked the group.

"Nothing. I think i'm gonna talk to Fury about sending a few agents our to investigate her last coordinates." Bruce said.

"Agents? Why can't we just go?" I asked almost frustrated that they weren't letting me do anything.

"Well for one there were already some agents on a intel mission close by, and two Natasha you are in no condition to be going into the field." Tony told me.

"Yeah Natasha you have very emotional ties to Y/N and there's no telling what desperate decisions you may make without thinking out there." Clint agreed.

"Well maybe that's what she needs! Someone who will stop at nothing to bring her back. She needs our help and we're just sitting around doing nothing?!" I started to raise my voice again.

"Natasha you know we all love Y/N too but if-" Tony was interrupted by static sounds coming from the comms.

We all pause for a few seconds and listened until we here a voice cutting in and out along with the static noises.

"What's happening?" Wanda quickly asked.

"I think-" Clint began but stopped when we all heard Y/N's voice.

"Nat?! Natasha are you there? Hello?!" she sounded panicked and out of breath.

Hearing that, we all rushed over to the table and turned on the mic.

"Detka?! Baby can you here me?!" I spoke into the mic.

"Yes, yes I can hear you. Are you on your way? Are you coming to get me?" she said. She sounded so scared and almost like she was crying.

"We couldn't find where you were, moya lyubov. Can you tell us your current coordinates or describe where you are?" I spoke in a calm voice trying to keep her calm too.

"Um yeah." she shakily responded.

"36.4902°N, 102.6347°W" she said as I wrote down the numbers.

"Good. Good job, baby. You're doing so well okay. You think you can keep your mic on so that I know you're still with me?" I asked her softly.

"Y-yeah." was all she could managed to mutter out due to her fear.

"Thank you, detka. I'm so proud of you. I love you, you know that right?" I told her trying to keep her calm while we all began suiting up.

The whole team loved Y/N like she was their sister or daughter. She was always so caring towards them and treated everyone with kindness. That's why Tony, Steve, Wanda, Sam, Bucky, Yelena, and Clint wanted to come and to ensure she got to me safely.

"M-mhm I-I love you-" she cut herself off when she started to yell.

Hearing all of the commotion in the background brought tears to my eyes, and at the same time, her heart rate on the vital readings began to increase which caused the monitor to start beeping rapidly.

"Y/N baby what's going on?!" I asked her but she never responded. All I heard were loud crashes, yelling, and then static noises as her comms and vital readings went out once again.

"Come on Nat. We're going to bring her back." Clint said as he started leading me away from the table with the comms and out the doors towards the quinjet along with the rest of the team.

I was going to have her back in my arms no matter what it took.

Part 2 coming soon...

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha marvel #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x fem!reader #natasha romonova #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x reader

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demon-witch-cat · 2 years

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Guess who's gotten into Rottmnt/Tmnt 2012! Me!!

And you know what that means?

I've created an crossover AU between the two!

I've actually been working on this AU since September, and have been posting a bunch of art videos of it on my tiktok (demonwitchcat is my username on there too if you want to check them out, though I am going to try to post the ones I can here soon) I just haven't really gotten the chance to post it here since it requires me to type so much, lmao XD

Anyways, here's the first art piece I did for it! Some of the designs are a bit outdated, since I've changed them up a bit after getting the hang of drawing them, but for the most part it's all still cannon, lol

The AU is a ROTTMNT and TMNT 2012 crossover AU called "Wrong Home" and it takes place during the ending of the Rise movie & about a week after the first two episodes of the 2012 series. Age wise, this makes Rise!Raph(Rafa) two years older then the 2012 bros(17), Rise!Leo(Leon) & Rise!Donnie(Dee) both one year older(16), and Rise!Mikey(Angelo) the same age as them(15). This is kinda important.

So what happens is instead of Angelo being able to make a portal to bring Leon home, he accidentally and unknowingly sends Leon to the 2012 universe. The 2012 Brothers are alerted by some sort of tracker that Donnie has that some big mass of energy suddenly appeared in the streets of New York. Thinking it might be the Kraang, they go and check it out. They end up finding Leon passed out and injured in an alleyway. They take him back to their lair and patches him up. They also come to realize that Leon is from another universe, and is essentially another version of Leo. After Leon wakes up and the whole shock where's off, Master Splinter tells him that until they find a way to get him home, he can stay with them as long as he'd like.

Leon takes him up on the offer, and ends up become a sort of older brother to all of them, offering all sorts of advice and, once all healed up(atleat physically), helping out on missions and patrols. He makes sure to take a backseat role though, so that Leo can get the necessary practice he needs at being a leader so when it comes to making the harder choices, in the harder fights, he can.

Problem in the Rise universe though... They all think Leon is dead(or at the least they have no way to get to him in time before the Kraang kill him) and they mourn him. Over the course of the first month following Leons "Death", Rafa and Dee both end up isolating themselves in their grief, leaving Angelo alone most of the time. April notices this and convinces Rafa to let her, Cassandra, and CJ take Angelo out either to the hidden city or through New York in an attempt to help him. Rafa agrees, and this ends up becoming a common occurrence. April even gets him a cloaking broach with the help of Sunita.

However, a month later(2 months after the kraang invasion), while on their way to meet up with the Casey's, something ends up triggering Angelo and he has a panic attack so bad he activates his mystic powers and sends himself to the 2012 universe. Leaving April to tell the others that he's also gone.

Angelo's not as lucky as Leon though, and ends up getting found by the 2012 Kraang and taken prisoner. There, they experiment on him and force him to use his mystic powers. He's trapped there for roughly around four months before escaping on his own.

After escaping, he immediately goes into hiding, going undercover as a human using his cloaking broach. Not even a few hours after escaping though, he ends up meeting the Casey of the 2012 universe, who finds him in an alleyway coming down from another freak out. Thinking he was just some kid who had just been attacked by some gang or something, Casey takes him back to his place to get him patched up. After that night, Angelo finds an abandoned building and takes up shop there, getting most supplies/furniture from the junkyard and stealing what he couldn't(he'll later take odd jobs and similar things in order to get money to actually pay, but he can't do that right off the bat).

A week or two after meeting Casey, Angelo starts going to the same school as Casey. They re-meet and end up become close friends. Angelo even considers telling Casey of his mutant status, but decides he can't risk it.

Back in the Rise Universe, Dee and Rafa are devastated after learning about Angelo's disappearance. Having now lost two of their brothers, Rafa and Dee end up becoming extremely close and rarely ever leave the others side. They also rarely go out and fight crime anymore, both to scared to lose their last brother. They spend most of their time in Donnies lab. When their not in the lab, their out in the hidden city, not being able to take being in the rest of the lair as just about everything reminds them of their brothers. Splinter, April, Cassandra, CJ, and Draxum all try to help them, but they can only help so much.

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getsojaded · 2 years

Text

non refundable vii | calum hood

a/n: hello & happy new year!! wishing you all the best for 2023. this part is a tad short but i know i kind of left the last little bit on a cliffhanger(-ish) and it’s been a whiiiileee since i updated this so i hope u guys enjoy :)) mwah xo

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Unlocking the door to their shared hotel room, he’s expecting a sleeping Y/N in their bed. But his heart drops once he realizes that there’s nobody in there but their suitcases.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, where did she go?” He whispers to himself, checking the closets and washroom just in case she was hiding. Nobody there. He starts to panic, and runs out of the hotel room and into the elevator, violently pressing the main lobby’s button.

“Can’t this shit go any faster?!” He exclaims, banging his fist on one of the walls of the elevator. After what felt like centuries, the elevator doors opened. Running out and towards the front desk, the workers are quite confused and scared as to why the six foot man with fear written all over his face is rushing to them.

“Have you seen a girl about this tall, wearing glasses? She’s not in our hotel room and I have no idea where she went.” He asks the two women at the desk, out of breath.

“I saw a girl in a green hoodie with glasses leave about an hour ago. She was crying, and I asked her what was wrong and if she needed any help. She said that she got into an argument with her boyfriend, and that she’s going to go look for him. I was going to ask her for her number in case he - I mean - you - came back but she ran off before I could say anything.” She responds.

Green hoodie. Empathy hoodie. That’s his Y/N she’s describing. “Do you have any idea where she went?!” He asks, extremely stressed out, running his fingers through his hair. “No sir, I’m sorry.” And that’s all it takes for Calum to run out of the hotel lobby, into the crisp Japan air.

He has no idea where to start looking for her, but then comes to the realization that he had never turned on his phone.

from m’girl x

calum where are you

it’s late and ur wandering in a city that ur not from at 2 am

im freaking out

baby please

im sorry

i love you too i love you so fucking much i’m sorry just please come back to the hotel

i’m so sorry

His shaking hands click on her contact, bringing his phone up to his ear. The rings are deafening as she doesn’t pick up with each ring. He’s about to end the call and try again, but she picks up on the last ring. “C-Cal?”

He feels a weight come off his shoulders once he hears her voice. “Y/N, baby, where are you?!” His voice cracks, trying to keep his tears at bay. “I-I’m lost. I went to go look for you, b-but I went too far and I d-don’t know where I am. I’m sitting at, I’m sitting at a bench at a p-park, I was waiting here in c-case you’d pass by,” She chokes out in between her sobs, and with each cry, she cuts out a little piece of Calum’s heart. “I love you, Cal. I’m s-so sorry. Please come get me.”

“Send your location, my love. I’m coming, okay? Stay right there, I’m on my way,” His shaky breath responds as he receives a notification from Y/N, sending her current location. “M-my phone’s about to die, Cal please hurr-” and the line cuts off, indicating that her phone is now dead. “FUCK!” he yells out, about to make a run to the location she was currently at. But he stops in his tracks once he hears a petite voice call out for him. “Sir, sir!” He turns around to see one of the ladies at the front desk, holding up a pair of car keys. “I’m not supposed to do this, but it’s really late and you need to find your girlfriend. Take this car, and just park it back where it was before when you get back.” He runs over to the small employee, giving her a hug and thanking her for her help, before getting into the driver's seat and flooring it to her location.

What’s supposed to be a ten minute drive turns into a three minute drive from the speed Calum’s going at, beating every red light he can and not bothering to stop at stop signs. Once he arrives at the park, he doesn’t bother to turn off the car as he puts it in park and runs towards the benches.

“Y/N?!” his broken voice calls out, eyeing each bench with no girl in sight. But there she was, at the last bench, in the green empathy hoodie, knees tucked into her chest, her head looking down.

Her head peeks up at the sound of her name, and sees Calum running towards her. She gets up from her seat and runs as fast as her legs can take her, collapsing into his arms as he holds her as tightly as he can. “I’m so sorry, Calum.” She sobs out, her small body shaking against his as he sways their bodies back and forth. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I love you, it’s okay. Let’s go back, it’s okay.”

The drive back to the hotel was silent, aside from their breaths from crying. Once he had parked the car in its designated spot, the two of them walk back into the hotel lobby hand in hand. Both eyes bloodshot red, with tears staining their whole faces and tired bodies. Calum walks towards the two workers, giving back the car keys. “Thank you so much,” He whispers to them, the two ladies nodding in response. “We’re glad you found her. Take it easy tonight, you two.”

Although Y/N’s confused, she gives the workers a nod and a smile before they both walk into the elevator. She’s clutching onto his arm, leaning her head on his shoulder. She’s afraid if she loosens her grip anymore, he’ll be out of her reach, for good this time.

Calum and Y/N are throwing their arms around each other the moment they unlock the door and kick their shoes off. Just when Y/N thought her tears were over for the night, her uncontrollable sobs are the only thing you hear in their room.

They’re tired, they’re in pain, and they’re in love. As the heavy breathing and sniffles arise, they can’t do anything else but hold each other tighter, making up for the months they weren’t able to have each other close.

“I love you, Cal. I’m so sorry.” She whispers. “I didn’t mean to get lost. I just wanted to find you because I was so worried and you weren’t responding and-“

“Hey, none of that. I’m sorry I even left in the first place. I should’ve let you know where I am and that I was okay. You were just looking out for me, and I love you so much for that.” Calum cuts off Y/N’s rambling. She looks up at him, and he wonders how she still manages to be the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid his eyes on — even when there’s tears streaming down her face.

She takes his face in her hands and presses her lips into his, giving him the long awaited kiss he’s been dying for since the moment they arrived. He immediately deepens the kiss, nostalgia, love, and everything in between hitting the both of them all at once. Calum can’t help but slip his tongue in her mouth, and his knees almost buckle at her little whimper of a reaction.

They’ve missed this, God they’ve missed this so much and they’ve never wanted anything more than to be in this moment — holding one another after months of yearning for each other.

Y/N pulls away to catch her breath, Calum’s grip tightening on her waist. She can’t help but giggle at the sudden grabs at her hips, Calum pecking her lips once more. “Can’t let you walk out again, baby.” He jokes, moving his hands up to her face to wipe away her tears.

As Y/N’s about to speak, she lets out a big yawn, and looks at the time right after. “Holy shit, 3 am,” she sighs, walking towards the bed and getting under the covers. “You gonna come join me?” She asks, resulting in Calum immediately jumping into the empty spot next to her, as she snuggles into his side. He wraps his arm around her body, giving her a soft kiss on the forehead.

“It’s been a long day, we need sleep,” she groans, placing her hand on his chest. “Talk tomorrow?”

She feels Calum’s head nod against her body. “A lot to unpack tomorrow. We need all the rest we can get.” He responds, her humming in response. “Goodnight, Cal.” she softly says.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“And Cal?”

“Yeah?”

“I never stopped loving you, either.”

—

taglist — @someinsanefangirl @lucyjafari @i-s-a-b-e-l-l-a-o @valesnicks @juhvette @perfctcalum @bohemianhargrove @fobodob @wldflwrbby @wiiildflowerrr @fangirl-candy @asmilinghopefullromantic @jazzymariexoxoc @caramelcalum @imightcry-blog @leomoonbaby @dreaded-awakening @mytlrh @noraskaar @sonoma @sunkissedruel @rafeyybabyy @soomanybands @dasguccier

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famina · 1 year

Text

A trip to the wrong side of town

There has been an alarming lack of Yomi on this blog so I had to do something about that ! For some reason, this hunger fic is much mor wordy then the rest. sorry about that. I hope you will like it and like Yomi too !

WARNING : Hunger kink fic, belly things and growls ahead.

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“This feel nice” you think to yourself. Your body is warmly tucked under your coat and your face is pressed on a cold surface. The gentle trembles rock your body into a sweet slumber and the dim lights you can barely see through your closed eyelids bring you even closer to sleep.

Wait ? Where are you again ? You groan and stand up, shaking off the grogginess. Oh ! That’s right, you’re on the train. To go home ? mmmh...You look out the windows. This seems all very far from your home. How long did you sleep for ? It’s very dark out, there are no houses, no other cars, only…metal and concrete ? Where is this ? Maybe some industrial part of the city ? You didn’t know your train went this far. You start panicking and reach out for your phone. It’s dead… Of course it is. What now ? Maybe you can ask at the station when the damn train finally stops.

After a few minutes of quiet panic, at long last, the train comes to a full stop. Everything is eerily quiet now, the doors open but nothing happens. You were the only one on the train, but now you now think you’ll also be the only one in the whole station. You make your way out before the doors close back on you and are greeted by the most unfriendly train station you’ve ever seen. No front desk, no shops, heck, there isn’t even any benches ! Just where are you ?? You snap out of it ! You need to find someone, fast ! There isn’t anyone here but there MUST be a train conductor !

You’re about to make your way towards the locomotive when something brushes past you in a flash. You turn around to see a little person holding your bag tauntingly. “H-HEY !” You shout and the person scuttles away. You give chase. The thief isn’t too fast so you’re able to keep up. This makes you confident that you will get your bag back. You then turn a corner, and the thief is stuck in a dead end. You think you’ve won, until you notice the thief has a big wide smile on their face.

From above, other littles people jump down, pinning you on the ground as they land. You hit the asphalt hard. It hurts. Your aggressors are laughing. You try to get back up, those holding you down are the size of toddlers so even though they are many, you should be able to overpower them if you just.. BAM ! Something hits you on the back of the head and it all becomes black.

When you come back to reality, you’re all tide up and are being carried away by those weird littles…creatures ! You panic again ! You try to break free but you can barely move. “H-HELP ! SOMEBODY ! I-I’M BEING KIDNAP.” You shout and shout for help but nothing happens. No one is coming for you. No one can help. You start to think…this is it…

And suddenly, your feet start dangling in the air !? What happened to the little dude carrying them ? Oh ! Now you fell you right shoulders losing the support of its carrier. And your left knee, and the right one too ! In an instant you fall to the ground. You make some effort to look at what is going on. You see a young men with tattered clothes and a bandaged eye swinging around a metal pipe like it’s a sword.

The little one who was carrying your head rushes to him with a glass shard but the one eyes man times his swing perfectly to club him while he was jumping. Sending him hit the wall. The other little ones get scared by that attack and scurry off, including the one with your bag.

“Yeah ! You better run !! This’ll teach not to mess with me !!” the man shouts. You look at him in complete astonishment still confused by all that just happened. He looks annoyed.

“What ?! What do you want ??”

“Uhg ! Please ! Untie me !!” You say urgently.

“Han ? why should I?”

“T-they captured me and tied me up…p-please help !!”

“Uuuh…I’ll say it again…Why should I!??”

“Huh ??? w-well..” You don’t really understand what he wants. He looks closely to you with interrogation.

“Waiit….you’re not from here, are ya ?”

“N-No…I came by train..I’m from-“

“W-WOW ! YOU TOOK THE TRAIN ??!”

“Hmmm….yeah ?”

“Wah…” He chuckles, “So they caught an outsider…those lucky bastards…”

“Huuh ??...” You don’t get anything he’s saying.

“Well that changes everything !” He unties you with a big smile on his face. You sigh with relief.

“Hah. Thanks, I really thought-..” He shoves his hand in your face. “Uhh…what ?”

“Payement.”

“What ?”

“PAY-MENT ! I helpt you out, now you gotta pay !”

“W-What ? Well I’m sorry but I got nothing to give.” You say, irritated.

“Oh ! Don’t play dump ! I know you outsiders are literally swimming in cash ! So gimme some !”

“Okay…first, that’s not true…And second, all the cash I had on me was in that bag that little thief stole from me !”

“W-What !!?? So you got NOTHIN ??!! Damn !!! What a waste of time…” He turns around and is about to leave.

“W-Wait ! Can you tell me where the train station is ??”

“I don’t help broke ass tourists !” He continues walking without even bothering to turn around.

“Hey ! I’m not broke ! I’ve got money…just not…here…”

“Yeah well you ARE here so…” He’s about to make his way out of your sight and you’re getting desperate.

“Alright ! how about this !? If you take me to station, tomorrow I come back with the cash to pay you ! Deal ?!”

He stops, and slowly turns to face you. “Are you fucking kidding me !??” He breaks out in laughter “ Oh yeah ! Suuuure ! You’ll be back ! Dang, how dumb do you think I am !!??”

“I’m not a liar ! I WILL come back !!” You are insulted by his claim.

“Yeah yeah ! I’m not falling for that one ! Just be thankful I’m not selling your organs for making me work for free !”

This is bad. From what you’ve seen so far he seemed like your only way out and he’s getting away. What can you do…what can you give him. And then it hits you.

“Hey !” You shout to him. “Are you cold !?”

He turns to you irked “Han ??”

“Your coat ! It’s so old and beat up it’s barely holding together !”

“Y-Yeah !? Who cares !!??” That comment seemed to have angered him mare than he wants to let on.

“You could have mine !” You show off your beautiful almost new, stylish cheap polyester coat.

“F-For real !?...” He seems to want it bad.

“yeah…BUT only if you get me to the station ! Then you get the coat.”

“Ah ! mmmh…ARRGH ! Fiiiiine ! I’ll get you to the stupid station ! but I got places to be so you better walk fast !” You happily trout behind him.

The two of you start walking in what seems to be an industrial labyrinth of concrete walls and metal structures.

“By the way, I’m (Y/N).”

“……..”

“Aaaand you are..?”

“I-I-I’m not giving you my name !!”

“Why not ?”

“W-w-well…..I’m just not…”

“Oookay…”

You figure he’s not one for chitchat. You two walk in silence for a little while when suddenly

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooWWLllls

The sound of a monstrous beast comes out of no where. You start to panic again. “W-What was that !??”

“Oh ! Relax ! That was just me !”

“H-Huh?”

gggggGGGGGRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwlss

The one eyes boy clenches his teeth and clutches his abdomen. He looks in pain but continues to walk normally.

“A-Are you…injured ?”

“What ? ‘course not ! I’m just starving !”

Grrrrrrroooooooooooooooooooaaaannn

“O-Oh….” You start feeling bad for the guy “Should we stop somewhere and grab a bite to eat ?”

“Hhaa ? Fucking where ??!” He gestures up to the big industrial labyrinth your in. You realize you haven’t seen a single store, or house or anything, just what is this place?

“Where…exactly are we ??” You ask.

“………The less you know the better…”

You decide to no ask further.

GGGRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrooooooooooowwwwwlls

“aaah….”

The no-name boy massages his midsection. You wish you could do something to ease his pain. But wait ! You can ! You rummage through your pockets and find it ! You hand it to him.

“Here !”

“Whassat ??”

“A granola bar ! I just remembered I had it on me.”

“Okay….and what do you want me to say ? Congratulations ??”

“No ! I’m giving it to you !”

“W-wha…..” He just freezes. He seems to have never encountered the concept of giving food to others. After a few second he turns all red a backs away from you. “F-F-F-FORGET IT !! I’m not eating your strange pocket food !!”

“Huh ?? What’s the big deal ? You’re hungry, I’m giving you food ! Come on ! Take it !” You hand it too him again.

He backs up to the wall as if you’re pointing a knife to him. “I DON’T WANT IT, I SAID ! Y-y-you can’t just…GIVE food away like that !!”

“Uuuh…Yeah, I can !” You are confused.

“W-well no one does that ! Y-Y-you probably poisoned it or something…”

“…..Why would I do that ?..”

“Tsk ! To knock me out and nab all my stuff !! B-But I’m not fallin’ for it !!” He trembles and points his pipe at you as a weak threat.

You don’t understand his reaction. But what is clear is that he now seems legitimately scared. So you try to reassure him. “…..It’s sealed…how would I have poisoned it ?”

“W-with a syringe !! I-I’ve seen it done !!”

Now he’s just being silly. “Okay…I’m not from here and I didn’t plan to come. Why would I have a sealed poisoned granola bar in my pocket ??”

“……………..” He seems to soften his stance.

“Soooo..” You hand the granola bar to him, again.

Grrrrrroooooooooooan

“!!?” The boy gets surprised by the cries of his own stomach. He looks carefully at the granola bar yearningly. Slowly, he approaches his hand from yours and yanks the treat out of you grasp in a flash and runs a little further to devour it. You think he looks like a little hungry squirl and that makes you smile. He notices it and turns to you with a mouth full.

“Whaff??!”

“Haha. So, is it good ?”

“………………..” He gulps it all down and gets back in front of you. “Let’s get going already !”

You are a bit mad that you didn’t get a ‘Thank you’ but when you glance at the one-eyed boy’s face, you see he seems embarrassed but also just a tiny bit happy.

You continue walking without speaking a word for a little while until you come back to the station. You overjoyed.

“Ah ! Where here ! Thanks so much !” You start removing your coat.

“W-W-What are you doing !!??” His face turns bright red.

“I’m…giving you my coat…as promised.”

He sighs loudly “You’re SUPPOSED to only give it to me when the train comes, dimwit ! Or else I can just…push you on the tracks and run off with it ! Damn…don’t you know anything….”

“O-oh..” You put back your coat quickly. “Well…would you do that ?”

“W-No !!....But…still…you should be more careful…” He looks away, all pouty…

Is he trying to help you out ? That granola bar must’ve really done him some good.

“Well I’ll try to be carefull if you try to take better care of yourself !”

“Han ??! what’s that supposed to mean ??!” He puts his hands on his hips.

“You really sounded in pain earlier. You should really try to eat better.”

“Han ! Yeah ! Like it’s EASY ! Food doesn’t just SRPOUT OUF OF THE GROUND you know !”

You stare at him with a blank look. “Yes…it…does ?..”

“Huh ??!” He looks at you with completely incomprehension.

“Have you never heard of a plant ?? Hahah” You say, jokingly.

“Whassat ?”

“!!?” You can’t believe it. Has he really never seen a plant. You just now notice you haven’t since a single tree, or bush or any green life in this entire place. You start to feel awful about your joke earlier.

“Y-you know…” you begin “…You could come too !”

“Hm???” He looks at you with genuine surprise

“On the train, I mean. I have a few tickets left so-“

“I can’t.”

He’s answer was shapr and cold and took you aback. He also looked honestly disappointed.

“W-well, why n-“

“I…JUST CAN’T !!!.”

“!!??” You decide not to press further “O-okay…”

He realize he’d been shouting and tries to calm down. “A-And..you shouldn’t come back here either…”

“O-oh ! Don’t I have to pay you back ?” You say with a little smile.

He laughs a bit. “Nah ! with the coat and that granola thing, we can say we’re even.”

You wanted to help him more somehow, but he was right. This place was dangerous and you should not come back. “Alright, if you say so.”

At that moment, the train approaches in the distance so you start removing the coat. By the time it’s stops to take its passengers you’ve got your hand stretched out to offer your coat to the no-name boy.

“Thanks for everything. Take care okay.”

“Y-Yeah…I’ll try.” He smiles just a bit and takes the coat.

“Well good bye.” You turn around to board the train.

“W-Wait !” The man takes your hand to stop you.

“!??” You turn to him, unsure.

“I-It’s……Yomi…”

“What ?”

“M-m-my name…you wanted to know so….it’s Yomi…” He looks at his feet all nervous like. This makes you smile.

“I see. Goodbye Yomi !” You smile at him.

“Bye (Y/N_” And he smiles back.

You board the train just as the door closes. You and Yomi look at one another until you are out of each other’s sight. After that you finally get home for a well deserved rest. As promised, you never went back to that weird industrial hell, but you think about it from time to time. You think about Yomi and you hope he’s doing well.

#hunger fic #hunger kink #belly k!nk #oc fanfiction #male stomach growl #hunger growls

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wellthebardsdead · 1 year

Text

Clockwork heart pt30

Part 29 here

———

*several days later*

Wyrm: *quietly sitting at a table in the four shields tavern, visibly exhausted after the groups almost restless travel from riverwood to there, the urgency of the trip made at nerevars request purely because of his evident distain for Delphine, and want to get her bidding over with as fast as possible* do we have to get up so early Ata Ryn?… we haven’t had a proper rest in almost a week, everyone’s crabby and on edge, even inigo…

Voryn: *seated across from him, looking visibly tired as well* I’ll talk to Neht, and try to change his mind… he wishes to get whatever Delphine is planning over with.

Wyrm: …He’s not happy with me agreeing to help her, is he?…

Voryn: he’s angry at her. Not you Hla Aka.

Wyrm: but he’s still not hap-

???: Excuse me? Wyrm Gro Shub I take it? I have a letter for you.

Wyrm: *blinks and looks up to see a courier approaching their table* oh yes- that’s me sir, thank you. *takes it and nods to him with a smile as the courier walks off*

Voryn: *glances at the letter* hm, such a fancy envelope. It wouldn’t be from the collage would it?

Wyrm: no papas envelopes are simple but if it was from him it’d be much bigger, he’d send his sugar cookies with it- *flips it over and pauses seeing the dominion seal, his stomach dropping thinking for a moment it could be about ancano, followed by immense panic as he recalls Delphine’s plan, worrying they’ve already been found out* …its… from the aldmeri dominion?… *opens the seal carefully before unfolding the letter and reading through it* …

Voryn: …Wyrm?…

Wyrm: I?… *looks up from the letter perplexed* someone named Caryalind Thallery wishes to meet me?

*glasses shattering*

Voryn: *instinctively jumps up to protect Wyrm only to see nerevar & Taliesin both standing there in shock, both having dropped the beverages they were bringing them in said shock*

Taliesin: THALL-

Nerevar: *slaps his hand over his mouth* SHHHH- *looks around* if someone of their name is here and knows about Wyrm they definitely have spies!!!

Wyrm: spies?

Kaidan: *walks over setting down more drinks after witnessing the two drop the others* haven’t clocked any spies, not here at least.

Voryn: You noticed spies?… where?…

Kaidan: Riverwood. After you suddenly appeared and cracked that perverts head like a melon. Spotted them as I looked back to make sure you were following us… Real… weird helms they were wearin…

Nerevar: weird hel-

Voryn: Redoran watchmen, at least. That’s what I first thought. Given skyrims close proximity to Solstheim I had hoped my fears were wrong and it was in fact just the council keeping tabs on our safety… but they… They definitely do not have our best interest at heart.

Kaidan: Aye. I thought so too. When I first saw em I thought it was a skeleton, then I saw the shape of the face guards, shaped like tentacles. White like bone.

Voryn: …Excuse me?

Kaidan: I?… we’re not… talking about the same thing?…

Everyone: *dead silence*

Wyrm: … *sighs and gets up shuffling to his room, too tired to even be bothered being afraid* I’m going to bed…

*a few minutes later*

Taliesin: *sighs walking into the room with his and Wyrms dinner to see the dunmer already snuggled in their bed for the night, and in his hands the dragon priest mask he’d collected on their way here after he and nerevar climbed a very large hill in hopes of getting a better advantage point, only to wake volsung from his grave* Darling- oh? You’re still awake- and… cleaning that thing?

Wyrm: *looks up at him with his one eye, his Pearl eye already on the bedside table with his arm* no, it’s clean now… *holds it up* it’ll fit you I think? I might need to refit it but it looks like it’ll fit comfortably.

Taliesin: I? Me?? Wear that- thing?! After it’s been glued to the face of a corpse for gods knows how long?!

Wyrm: *so tired his tone alone is enough to crack tears in the corner of his eye* I-it can help you pick me up- and breathe under water and-

Taliesin: no no no- *hurries to his side and sets the food down before gently taking the masks from his hand* I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you, I was just… being playful. *sighs setting the mask down* thank you darling… I’ll use it if I have to I just… *looks at Wyrm and sees the bags under his eyes, even his closed one* You’re exhausted…

Wyrm: … *reaches out gently placing his hand on his cheek* you are too… everyone is… and it’s my fault…

Taliesin: oh darling, my little silk moth n-

Wyrm: it is… *looks down as he pulls away and grips the wooden blanket covering his legs* d-Delphine said this Esbern person could help us, and that the thalmor knew where he was. She was so sure of it I… and I agreed to help her, but now I don’t know anymore, and nerevars angry, everyone’s angry, everyone’s tired and upset and it’s my fault… I just… I don’t know what other possible leads there are beyond the greybeards and-

Taliesin: *suddenly lays him back into the pillows quieting him with a kiss. Just soft enough he knows Wyrm can push away if he’s not okay with the action but firm enough to reassure him that he’s in fact, not angry with him*

Wyrm: *just moans softly and sweetly, his hand letting go of the blanket to take his in its grasp as his heart flutters from his partners touch* mm-

Taliesin: *pulls away slowly, smiling as he feels Wyrms lips chase after his, returning his want with soft, feathery little pecks before pulling back enough to admire his dragons tired, pretty face* None of this, is your fault love… we’re all here because we want to be here. And whether nerevar likes it or not. *picks up Wyrms dinner* We’re, All, sleeping in tomorrow.

Wyrm: but Neht wan- *gasps as Taliesin feeds him a mouthful of his meal before he can protest* Mm??

Taliesin: *feeds him another mouthful* mmhm~

*meanwhile*

Voryn: *watching Kaidan & inigo both have a drink at another table while nerevar mutters under his breath to himself, his ear only pricking up as he hears “3am”* We are not leaving at 3am. The sun won’t even be up by the time we reach solitude.

Nerevar: *blinks and immediately snaps to the defence, his tired mind making his tone short and sharp even towards his dreamer* but it’ll give us time to scope out the city, settle into the inn and find this thallery before Delphine’s contact turns u-

Voryn: Then go by yourself. *leans back in his chair meeting him with the exact same tone and sharpness, folding his arms knowing full well nerevar will buckle* Everyone is tired. Wyrm more so than all of us and he’s kicking himself because of your insistence we get this over with as fast as possible. I haven’t even had a bath yet and you expect me to get up in 7 hours from now to travel less than an hour on horseback to solitude?

Nerevar: *realising his anger towards Delphine and the collapse of the blades had gotten the better of him, and the solitary adventuring lifestyle he’d once grown used, get the job done as fast as possible and get paid, to wasn’t fit for the group.* I… *finally notices the heavy bags under voryns eyes* I suppose… we haven’t had a proper rest since we left morthal huh?…

Voryn: *huffs and looks away knowing his moon and star is close to cracking* Since we left Winterhold more like. *stares at him with all three eyes* I’m exhausted, Neht.

Nerevar: … *gets up and walks around the table, lifting him up into his arms bridal style* Then let’s get some rest… we can sleep in tomorrow. I-… I’m sorry my dreamer, my love…

Voryn: *looks away from his gaze for a moment more with a tired pout before finally turning to face him with a long, drawn out sigh* okay, you’re forgiven… *gently strokes his cheek before pulling him down for a kiss* My moon and star…

Nerevar: *smiles gladly returning the kiss* Voryn…

Voryn: …I still want a bath first.

*the next day*

Wyrm: *gripping onto taliesins arm in a state of overstimulation as they set foot into the marketplace of solitude, his mind overwhelmed by the crowds of people far beyond what he’d seen in whiterun or riften, yet still over all at peace, completely oblivious to the execution the rest of the group had witnessed as they entered the city, purely because they blocked it from his view* s-so many stalls, so many people!

Taliesin: I know, it’s a lot to take in isn’t it? *pulls him in closer* shall we do some shopping while we’re here? As- quaint as the rest of skyrim is, they are lacking in adequate fashion choices or- speciality apparel makers.

Nerevar: we don’t have time, it’s nearly noon as we-

Voryn: *suddenly pinches him on the ass shutting him up* I think we’ve earned it. Neht and I will book us our stay at the inn first.

Kaidan: I’ll go check out the fletcher. Inigo?

Inigo: I’m right behind you- then maybe the alchemist? I need something for my fleas.

Kaidan: aye, I’ll need to grab an antidote there if we’re cutting back through that swamp. Especially if you’re going to chase me with a fungal pod again.

Inigo: hehehehehehe~

Taliesin: *glances down at wyrm* Wyrm? Is there anything you’d like to see here?

Wyrm: um?… maybe the bards collage if we have time but… Maybe somewhere I can get prepared for… tonight… *nervously grips onto him tighter*

Taliesin: *nods and gently pulls him in closer* we’ll get everything you need…

Voryn: *smiles reassuringly at Wyrm, easing his mind through their connection, knowing out of everyone here he needs to be the one keeping calm and level headed for his sake* Splendid. We’ll meet back at the inn in 2 hours, if you feel unsafe in any way though, or feel you’re being watched, return sooner.

Everyone: *nods and scatters off through the market, leaving the Hortator and councillor to themselves*

Nerevar: *finally speaks up again, voicing his displeasure* Voryn what are you thinking?! We don’t have time for thi-

Voryn: Wyrm is stressed and worried about tonight. Let them have a few hours to breathe… besides. *looks at the inn* I want to ensure this Caryalind fellow isn’t planning anything…

#Wyrm dragonborn #Kaidan skyrim #inigo skyrim #skyrim taliesin #voryn dagoth #nerevar

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wandafiction · 26 days

Text

312 - Just Us Chapter 89

Warnings: Slight Mentions of Abuse

Word Count: 3866

Series List | Chapter 88 | Chapter 90

================================

(Wanda PoV)

I watch as Kate pulls Y/n out of the cabin, my brief amount of happiness from seeing the friendship they have turns sour when I turn around and see Eleanor standing there. She is leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest, her face scrunched into a horrible scowl as she shakes her head at me. I don't wait another minute before pacing towards her, an accusing finger pointing at her, stopping a few feet away from her.

"Who the hell do you think you are, speaking to Y/n like that?" My accented voice is harsh, and my face twitches with the anger that's washing over me.

"Me? Who the hell do you think you are? You come into my cabin, parading around with Y/n acting like you don't know what you did!" She pushes herself off the wall taking a few steps towards me, my eyes flick to behind her where I see Janet standing with the boys in the doorway.

I see the look in their eyes, something between worry, panic and maybe a little scared. Of what I can't quite figure out but it's enough for me to take a small step back, breathing in a calming breath and closing my eyes to stop myself crying from anger. Stupid emotions, always leads to tears when I definitely don't need them. I open my eyes again to see Eleanor still standing there with an expectant look on her face.

"What are you talking about?" My voice is calm and collected, yet I can feel my body almost shaking with the anger I feel towards this woman.

"Do you really want to do this in front of your boys?" Eleanor turns her head around, a smug smile on her face as she looks back to her mother and the boys who haven't moved.

"Eleanor, I really don't know what you're talking about?" I walk past her making my way to the boys bringing my hands up to cup the outside of their faces. "Are you boys okay?"

"Yeah." Billy looks past me scoffing when he sees the woman behind me. "Miss Bishop what do you think it is my mother has done because I can assure you she has done nothing wrong."

"Billy is it?" Billy rolls his eyes at the woman's mocking tone as I look over my shoulder sending her a scowl.

"Yeah that's right." He crosses his arms over his chest and I look back at them trying to think of the best way to deal with this situation that I have somehow found myself in. "What's it to you?"

"Billy." I send him a warning look telling him to stop with the attitude because it will only make it worse.

"Listen to your mom, boy, this doesn't involve you." Billy's eyes go slightly wide and something inside me snaps but I give the boys a polite smile.

"You two stay here with Janet." I give them both a peck on the head as I turn to Eleanor walking a few paces before turning back around to the boys. "Mommy will be right back."

I walk past Eleanor giving her a look that shows how serious I am about her following me, and I smile a little to myself when her smug look drops off the face of the earth and now there is a look of worry. Turns out it wasn't the worry about having an angry Sokovian chew you out, but a different kind of worry and her next words stop me dead in my tracks.

"Are you going to hit me like you hit Y/n?" My eyes dart left from right as I look ahead trying to figure out if she actually said that to me, slowly turning around with my brows scrunching. She once again is scowling at me.

"What did you just say?" I tilt my head with a confused smile on my face.

"Don't pretend like you didn't hear me, bitch." My head tilts further and before I can say anything back, Janet takes a step forward: great two against one.

"Eleanor, this really isn't the time or place. There are children present." Oh, well at least she can keep her accusations to herself unlike her daughter.

"I don't really care that the boys are here, because I think they will be grateful to find out the truth about the woman they call their mother. Unless they already know of course."

"What are you on about Eleanor?" Janet's voice is desperate.

"Come on mom like you didn't see the bruises on Y/n's nose, and the make up trying to hide them."

"О, эта тупая гребаная сука. Она для траха настоящая? Какая полная и совершенно сумасшедшая сука.она думает, что я ударил Y/n! как она смеет!"

(Oh, that dumb fucking bitch. Is she for fucking real?What a complete and completely crazy bitch.she thinks I hit you/her!how dare she!)

"English Wanda, I don't understand when you talk gibberish." I clench my jaw shut not wanting to say anything I will regret in front of the boys.

"Eleanor!" Before Janet can continue Tommy storms up to Eleanor.

"Hey don't you dare speak to my mom like that! For your information she was saying she didn't hit Y/n, or us if that's what you think and that you're crazy to think that!" I rush back to Tommy pulling him away from Eleanor slightly, my hands cupping his cheeks.

"It's okay my sweet angel. You don't need to get involved, I love that you're defending me but you don't need to." I look back to Eleanor. "For your information she fell out of bed after one of the twins had a nightmare. So don't go looking for something that isn't there."

"Oh please, I know these sorts of lies. Y/n and Steph would lie through their teeth and when the truth came out it was a big 'I told you so'."

"Eleanor you didn't." We all turn to look at Janet who has a big look of disappointment.

"Of course I did. I told her from the beginning that the girl was not good for her, yet she didn't listen. Look where that got her." I scoff at Eleanor's defence, letting go of Tommy and turning my full attention to her.

"Excuse my language boys, but this bitch needs to be put in her place. Don't you dare fucking talk about Y/n like that, she deserves nothing but everyone's complete and utter respect. The fact you threw what Steph did in her face is just as bad as some of the things she did. So get off your fucking high horse and learn to treat others with the respect that you so obviously demand for yourself. You can think whatever you want about me, but don't you dare go after Y/n and her past. Ever!"

"Wanda how dare…" I don't even let Eleanor finish pulling my fingers across my lips harshly making a zipping noise.

"No, you don't get to accuse me of something I know and the boys know I didn't do. I don't care that you're Kate's mom, I really don't. I am so glad that Y/n has a friend like Kate, and Kate is so much better than you in every way. We came into your cabin, invited by your mother and you didn't even greet us. You sat there, reading your godforsaken newspaper and only got involved to have a dig at me and Y/n. So unless you have been in Y/n's shoes, don't go pulling lies out of thin air just so you can think your opinion matters. Because guess what it doesn't, not when it comes to mine and Y/n's relationship."

"Oh come on Wanda. You can't be fucking serious! Mom, are you hearing this?" I scream internally but don't allow my facial features to change but ever so slightly tilt my head.

"No you don't get to speak unless what comes out your mouth next is an apology." I seethe, letting my emotions get the better of me.

"You are under my roof, how dare you speak to me like this." She takes a step forward and I push Tommy behind me as she closes the gap, she is only slightly taller than me so I don't even have to look up to stare her in the eyes.

"Eleanor enough!" Our heads whip around to see Janet whose hands are rubbing at her temples, and Billy moves to stand next to Tommy behind me. "This is my roof not yours."

"Mom."

"No, I said enough Eleanor. Wanda has every right, every right to defend herself and Y/n against you." Janet's face softens as she turns to me and the boys. "Wanda dear, why don't me, you and the boys take a walk. Let us all get a breath of fresh air and calm down."

"Okay." I give her a relieved smile, my anger dissipating slightly until I look back at Eleanor. "If you ever bring up Y/n's past again, unless it's a good memory then don't you dare even open your mouth. Don't even think about it. You are the type of person that holds someone's past over them because you think it gives you some kind of power. It's so fucking twisted of you to hold that sort of thing over someone's head until they break, because my god have I seen her break. But everytime, everytime I see her come back so much stronger! You may think you hold this invisible power over Y/n, but you really don't. My Y/n is strong, resilient, forward thinking, loving and caring. She is passionate, she is everything to me and the boys and she's everything to us. So Miss Eleanor Bishop, let Y/n live her life in peace and move forward with her life. She doesn't need you being a fucking selfish bitch, and dragging up the past so leave her the fuck alone."

"Don't even say a thing Eleanor. Go sort the food out and please actually think about everything." Janet pleads as she walks up to the coats handing me and the boys ours. "Are you guys ready to go?"

"Yup." The boys practically rush out the door.

"Give Y/n a call, I think I know where they will be but make sure it's okay for you to see her. Me and Kate can keep the boys entertained once we meet them." I pull my phone out of my pocket instantly dialling Y/n's number as I leave the cabin.

Y/n: Hello family crematorium you kill 'em will grill 'em.

Me: What!

Y/n: Oh my god Wanda, hi.

Me: Kate?

Kate: Yup.

Me: Why are you answering Y/n's phone? Is she okay?

I see the twins and Janet give me a concerned look, but relax when I wave them off at Kate's answer.

Kate: She is fine

Me: So I just had a massive go at your mom now me, the boys and Janet are out for a walk. Do you think Y/n is up for guests?

Kate: uh huh, yup.

I would question why her answers are so short, but if Y/n is next to her she probably doesn't want to talk about her with her there.

Me: Okay, well it will just be me.

Kate: Understood.

Me: Okay, good. And please don't ever answer the phone like that again.

Kate: Sorry for scaring you.

Me: It's okay. So we are just walking into the forest. Thank you for looking out for her today.

Kate: Yeah no problem.

Me: I mean it. Anyway, where are you two at the moment?

Kate: Tell Grandma J the treehouse, she will know where we are.

Me: Okay thank you, don't tell her I'm on my way yet. Wait until she is ready.

Kate: Okay, sure.

Me: How long do you reckon she needs?

Kate: Maybe an hour.

Me: Okay. So Grandma J said you and her will keep an eye on the boys while I talk to her.

Kate: Okay cool.

Me: You have my permission to take them to the archery range.

Kate: Cool.

Me: It will be fun for them right?

Kate: Yup.

Me: Good because they just saw an angry Sokovian mother, so they might need a little cheering up. You stay sage Kate.

Kate: You too.

Me: Okay, bye Kate.

Kate: Byyyyeeee.

I roll my eyes laughing a little as I hang up the phone, putting it in my pocket and looking up to see 3 sets of curious eyes on me.

"Kate just gave me a mini heart attack by answering the phone with 'family crematorium you kill 'em we grill 'em'. But her and Y/n are okay."

"That's good." Billy smiles as I catch up with the three of them as we continue to walk where Janet is leading us.

"Did she say where they were?" Janet asks stopping as she comes to a tree, her finger tracing a carving in it.

"Uh, yeah. She said they were at the treehouse. What's that?" I move closer to where Janet is, her hand moving out of the way so I can see what she was tracing.

I smile, my hand coming up to trace the carved out heart shape with Sarah's and Y/n's carved out within the shape. My eyes follow the small carving that the bark has been growing around, but it can be read clear as day.

"How often did you used to see them?" I turn to look at Janet who has a sad smile on her face before turning to look at the boys. "They know about Sarah."

"Well in that case, do you mind if I take you somewhere before the tree house? It was somewhere Sarah and Y/n used to hide out when they needed a moment to themselves. Because even out here on vacation people can become overbearing, especially Eleanor. She never knew of this place, Kate was the one who showed it to them."

"Lead the way." I wrap my arms around the twins torsos as the three of us walk closely behind Janet.

As we walk further into the forest, we start to walk past large rocks that are 5 times the size of us. The boys look around in wonder as we spot a deer ahead, breathing heavily like it's just finished running for its life. I almost bump into Janet, not realising she had stopped in front of us.

"In here." Janet points to a small formation of rocks that make a well hidden cave or den.

"What is with all the rocks?" Billy's hand grabs behind him on the edges of the rocks as we walk further in, the darkness slowly surrounding us.

"There was a massive landslide a few decades ago and with the way the rocks landed this small den was formed." Janet uses the torch on her phone to light up the den before moving to the centre. We watch as she grabs some matches from a small hole in the rocks and uses a few to light a small fire with twigs and logs gathered on the floor.

"How did they find this place?"

"Kate was out doing some target practice, on live targets when a blizzard hit. She got disoriented but luckily came across this place that is completely sheltered. It's about 8ft high and 10ft from side to side. Then one day Eleanor told Y/n she was just a gold digger and then blamed Sarah for not keeping her money to herself. I do love my daughter dearly, but my god can she run her mouth. Anyway, Y/n stormed out in anger followed by Sarah, then finally by Kate who made sure to grab her emergency snow bag just in case they got stuck outside. Kate led them to this den, cave thing."

Me and the boys take a seat on the cold dirt floor, at least it's not snow, as Janet stands up, turning her flashlight back on and shining it along the walls. She stops when she comes to another carving that seems to be a few lines with one diagonal line going through them, someone was cutting something. Janet turns back to us shining the torch above our heads and pointing to look behind us. More days counted.

"What were they counting?" I look back to Janet as her hands trace over more lines.

"Kate was counting how long Y/n was in hospital for. Kate was out here when the accident happened and we had some really bad storms and blizzards that put a stop to all travel. That lasted a couple of days, and when it all cleared the hospital said she wasn't allowed visitors due to the experimental treatment she was undergoing. Kate came out to this den every day just to feel close to her friend."

"How many days did she wait?"

"86 days. Which was a miracle in itself, but Stark and Dr Cho worked that miracle. But these markings don't just count the days that Y/n was in a coma. They also count the days in which Kate hadn't seen Y/n due to Steph, I mean this is the first time they're seeing each other in a long time." My eyes search as the lines going from the ground to the top of the top rock.

"How many days?"

"312."

"Wow." Tommy exclaims as he stands so he can take a proper look at each individual line carved into the stone.

"Yeah, it was a tough time for Kate, not just because she missed Y/n but because she felt like she wasn't there for her. However, I blame Steph for, well, being Steph."

"Don't worry, I may or may not have gone all Sokovian on her ass." Janet let's out a laugh.

"See I thought you were from somewhere like Sokovia. Your accent was really thick, and very intimidating when you were shouting at Eleanor but not I can't even really tell."

"I got used to masking my accent so even after losing my temper so much that my accent comes out, I fall right back into masking it after I've cooled off."

"Well you must have cooled off then because I can hardly hear it. Does Y/n make you mask your accent?" I shake my head with a huge grin.

"No. In the comfort of our own homes I never make my accent and seeing Y/n smiles everytime she hears it sometimes makes me wonder why I mask it in public, even if I'm with her."

"Well you got yourself a keeper and a big sap when it comes to Y/n. What's the word kid's use nowadays? Uhm, oh I know. Simp. Y/n is a simp for you Wanda. I think I used that term right." The boys giggle a little and Janet rolls her eyes but she smiles at the sound as do I.

"She is a big simp, I agree." I look down at my phone to see that it has been about an hour since my phone call with Kate.

"Is it time to head to the treehouse?" I put my phone back in my pocket, nodding in confirmation at Janet's question. "Follow me, it's only like a 10 minute walk from here. Me and the boys will stop a little way back so it's just you that goes. The password is clock tower. You ain't getting up that thing without it."

"Okay. Clock tower. Got it. Why clock tower?" We leave the den and start walking further into the forest.

"Something about Kate showing off to her friends and knocking one down or something. I don't know, I don't really care as long as she is having fun and it doesn't bother me. Never could stop that girl from causing trouble, just gotta let it happen."

"She isn't what I expected at all."

"What did you expect?"

"I don't know, but I wasn't a hyperactive puppy who can shoot a bow and arrow."

"Well when you put it like that."

We fall into a comfortable silence; the only sound to be heard is the crunching of the snow beneath our feet and the snapping of a twig every now and again. The light breeze whistles past my ears and when I look at the boys I can't help but smile as their eyes look around the first in absolute awe of the beauty of it all.

My eyes settle on something in a tree in the distance, the large frame casting a shadow on the surrounding area. The pointed snow covered roof, helping to hide away the small building as it wraps around the tree. I feel a hand on the small of my back and turn to see Janet smiling at me. I hear the boys laughing behind me and when I look I can't help but laugh at the sight of them making snow angels. I look back to the window to see Kate spot us, giving us a small wave before turning around and continuing on what she was doing.

"Boys." I turn to look at the boys who sit up straight giving me their full attention. "Janet and Kate are going to take you for an archery session while me and Y/n talk. Behave, listen to what they say and be careful."

"We will mom." Billy gets up wiping the snow off his pants before moving to hug me, and Tommy quickly follows behind. I hear Kate shout something about there being condoms and something being my job, managing to hide a laugh at what I hear.

"Okay. Love you boys. I have my phone if you need anything. I don't know how long I will be but I will message you when I'm on my way back."

"Okay." Y/n's right their twin synchronisation is creepy sometimes even if I thought I was used to it, I never truly can be. I let go of them, turning in time to see Kate smiling cheekily at me.

"She's all yours." I roll my eyes at the insinuation but Kate only laughs.

"Skipping past that comment, thank you for making sure she was okay."

"Of course. She has a lot to tell you." The smirk on Kate's face doesn't tell me much but her tone is happy, so that's good.

"Okay. Right, Janet, thank you for looking after the children. Kate, don't kill the kids."

"Couldn't if I tried."

"Is that meant to give me confidence in your abilities to not kill them?"

"Yes?" She asks more than tells.

"Sure. Right, I will see you guys later." They all give me small goodbyes as I make my way to the bottom of the tree. The tree house is about 8, maybe 10 metres off the ground, but the treads are nice and big so I'm not too worried about climbing it. I clear my throat before shouting up.

"Clock tower!"

================================

#wanda maximoff #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x reader #just us series

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littleperilstories · 1 year

Text

The Prince of Thieves: I Never Thought We'd Be Here Again

Mood Boards | Chapter Titles | Also on A03! | Playlist | Story Intro

Warnings: death mention, angst, family estrangement

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Word count: 3007 || Approx reading time: 11 mins

I Never Thought We'd Be Here Again

Teaser: “Will!” I go to fling my arms around him, only to stop short. He flinches away from me, like I’m trying to hurt him…like I’m trying to kill him. Inside me, something shudders and cracks.

Colette

Will is unrecognizable—skin and bone, battered and bruised, pale and silent—when I find him and Geoff.

When I find only him and Geoff. No Jamie, no Bree Cooper.

What the fuck?

God, what if they’re dead? I stopped that meaty, nasty-faced constable from shooting Jamie in the head, but I had to dash not long after.

What if they both got shot?

One look at Will and Geoff tells me that they’re thinking the same thing, and neither of them is taking it well. Geoff, at least, is composed, but he is the palest I have ever seen him. His hands are trembling.

Geoff’s hands are trembling.

“Will!” I go to fling my arms around him, only to stop short.

He flinches away from me, like I’m trying to hurt him…like I’m trying to kill him. Inside me, something shudders and cracks.

They’re both on the ground, resting. Will doesn’t say anything, just looks away from me, just holds his head in his hands. I look to Geoff, mouthing my question. How is he?

Shaking his head, Geoff presses a hand against the side of his chest, miming a grimace of pain. Hurt here somewhere, he silently replies.

And Jamie?

Geoff opens his mouth to keep up our noiseless conversation when Will’s head shoots up. “Fucking stop it, both of you.”

If I weren’t fighting the surge of panic that is threatening to send me into a fit of tears, I’d laugh. “Stop what?”

“I can tell you’re talking to each other. Just fucking say it out loud.”

My shard of amusement disintegrates as quickly as it struck. His voice is not the same as I remember.

“Where’s Jamie?” I ask, trying to keep my voice even. It’s a struggle.

“He stayed behind to give that fucker back.” Geoff’s voice is tight. “It looked like he ran, but…”

A freezing wind hisses around us, bringing with it the sharp chill of late autumn rain. “But you’re not sure?”

Geoff shakes his head. “He wasn’t there anymore when I looked back. That girl ran to find him. Haven’t seen either of them.” He takes a long breath and shoves his hand into his coat pockets.

“She what?” After she fucking ran away from me, out into the thick of things—she went out, and then went back?

Geoff just nods. Maybe he’s about to say more, but Will interrupts.

“We have to look for them,” he whispers.

Of course we do. Of course we fucking do. I can’t say that, though. We have to look for Jamie and Bree, but we can’t. Will can’t. Not if he’s hurt, and certainly not since every one of those blue-coated motherfuckers will recognize his face with a single glance. “We have to get somewhere safe.”

Geoff’s eyes close. He knows I’m right, and he won’t argue. The pain he’s in, though—not the same as whatever’s wrong with Will—is carved into every inch of his being. Deep grooves up and down his skin, invisible and yet just as present as Will and me.

“Home,” Will says, “maybe he went there—”

“It’s trashed,” I say, before he gets his hopes up. It kills me, it kills me, to see his face fall. “They found it. Tore it apart.”

Will drops his head again, hiding his face, and he chokes back a sob.

We have to get to safety, yes, but…the last place Will felt safe—maybe the last place any of us felt truly safe—is gone.

“Jamie won’t know where to look for us,” Will says. He’s looking up again, and his eyes are vaguely fixed in my direction, but his gaze is unfocused. Dizzy. Maybe he’s not as present as I thought. Maybe he’s not really here at all.

He’ll find us, I want to say, but I don’t dare. I don’t know if it’s true. Jamie had his own plan of where to go, and I have mine, but we didn’t share them with one another.

Just in case.

The answer—the only option—the only place I can think of to go—is already unfurled in my mind, but I don’t want it. Even though I knew this was a possibility and dreaded it, I’m still not ready.

“Town’s gonna be crawling.” Geoff, too, sounds distant, but closer to earth than Will. “Where we—”

“What if he’s hurt?” Will clambers to his feet, the movement sudden, and in an instant, Geoff and I are both on alert, because this is Will, and Will might bolt, and if he does, he’ll end up right back where he was if he’s not careful. “We have to—”

He’s about to sprint off—there’s a moment of tensing muscles, leaning forward, heaving in a breath.

Grunting in pain, he stops, one hand moving up to press against his ribcage.

Shit. Geoff wasn’t kidding.

“I have a place we can go.”

Despite my dread, despite my secret hope that another choice would present itself, the words are out of my mouth the moment I see Will reach for his side with that awful grimace on his face. We have nowhere else, and I can’t let him stay in pain—out here—in the cold—in the rain—with constables out looking for him—

Geoff meets my gaze. The grief I find there is almost too much to bear.

“Come on.” I hold out my hands, palms up and shaking. Geoff is the first to clasp his fingers into mine.

Will stares at my hand, but he doesn’t seem to see it.

“We’ll find out what happened,” I say, and even though I’m screaming on the inside, my voice somehow obeys my command to stay gentle. “But we can’t stay here.”

The enormous white shirt is slicked against Will’s skin from the rain. It drags in sodden folds over his battered form, limp and surely uncomfortable, as he finally meets my gaze. As he slowly lifts his arm. As he reaches over to take my hand.

“Where?” he croaks.

I swallow the painful lump in my throat. “My family’s house.”

Geoff freezes, and Will’s glassy eyes widen. “What?”

“My family’s house.” God, I’ve dreaded this day for so long, and standing in the pouring rain with an injured Will, a silently distraught Geoff, and the other two missing and maybe dead is not helping. Will is staring at me in confusion, his thought plain as day on his face: You have a family?

“Won’t that…” Geoff pauses. Whatever he wants to say, it seems to pain him. “Won’t that put them in danger, too?”

I wrench my hand away from his. “Fuck, Geoff! Do you think I’m stupid?” Anger explodes out of me, so much anger that I’ve been trying to keep reined in for weeks now. No, fucking years. “Do you really think—”

“If they found the townhouse, they found the lease!” he snaps back. “And then we’ll be right back in the same—”

“Good god, you idiot, you think I put my real name on that thing?”

Geoff jerks back, and I know I’ve hurt him. Because I’ve always been Colette Haris to him, long before I was Spider, and he probably never stopped to think about who I was when I was born. Maybe he assumed I was honest with him from the start.

“They won’t find my family,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm, “because the lease says Colette Haris, and Colette Haris doesn’t exist, so they can’t track her anywhere.”

Geoff and Will are silent.

“My last name is Meunier,” I say quietly. I wonder if they can hear me over the sound of the rain. “My family lives in town, and that’s where we’re going. No one’s going to find us there.” As long as my father and stepmother don’t throw us out on sight. I don’t voice that particular concern. “So get your asses moving.” I swallow hard. “Ready?”

It’s too much to hope for a real answer from Will, I think. He’s staring at me like I’m a stranger, and his meek confusion, the lack of the rage that was in his gaze only a few minutes ago, hurts my heart.

“Ready.” Geoff holds out his hand this time, and I take it. Squeeze. We’re in this together. All of us. Always have been.

No matter what happens…always will.

Instead of scaling the wall to Verie’s room, I stand on the grass and hurl stones at her windowpane. Several minutes pass before she opens up.

“What are you doing?” She’s hard to hear—mumbling sleepily and obviously trying to keep her voice low. It occurs to me how early it still is in the day. Even though it feels like a lifetime has passed since we left the hunting cabin this morning.

“What the fuck is going on?” I hear Geoff mutter from somewhere behind me. There’s impatience in his voice, an emotion he doesn’t usually let slip out, endlessly stoic as he is. I ignore him.

She rubs her eyes, hair dripping gracefully over her shoulder as she leans further out the window. “Lettie, why are you…”

“I need to come inside.”

“So come up,” she mumbles, yawning. “You know how to—”

“No. Through the door. Let me in.”

That wakes her up. Verie’s jaw drops, and her mussed golden curls bounce as she draws back, stunned. “Lettie, do you mean it?”

“Quickly,” I say. “Please.” Inhaling sharply, trying not to think about how much what I’m about to say will sting, I grind out, “I need help.”

At these words, these words she surely never expected to hear from me, she goes still as stone. “What’s going…” Her voice fades, and then she nods. “I’ll be right down.”

I’m shaking when I cross the threshold of my old home—because it’s been so long since I’ve been here, in the doorway, in the foyer, yes, but also because Geoff and Will are following me inside.

Verie gapes at both of them, eyes like blue china cups, drinking in the sight of them with fear and awe and confusion. Geoff is almost twice her size.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Her gaze drifts up to Geoff’s face, astonishment fading to worry. Slowly, it shifts to Will, and it darkens to unbridled horror. When I follow along, I see the way his hand is braced against the wall like he’s going to crumble to the floor at any moment, the way his eyes remain downcast, meeting no one else’s.

“I don’t understand,” Verity whispers, and the old fear strikes me hard. Perhaps this is the time she’ll finally say no and tell me to get out for real.

To leave and never come back.

“I don’t have anywhere else.” I can’t remember if I’ve already said this; my mind is too muddled. “We… We have nowhere. Our home is gone.”

She blinks, giving a little gasp as if something I’ve said has cut her deeply, but she only glances at me for an instant. She can’t, it seems, wrench her attention away from Will—watching the tear that streaks down his bruised cheek and drips from his chin.

“What happened to you?”

For the first time, Will looks up from the floor. His fingers twitch, turning white as he presses more strongly against the wall.

“Verity, darling, what’s all the—”

My stepmother, Justine, breezes into the foyer, her lilting voice light and a touch bemused, until she spots the four of us and her words collapse into nothingness.

“Colette?”

I take a step backwards, my heart pounding.

“Colette, is it really you?”

When I open my mouth, nothing comes out.

“Mother…” Verity hasn’t moved. “Lettie needs our help.”

I can see it on my stepmother’s face, the war unfolding there: Colette’s returned at long last against How dare Colette return after all this time?

Will’s hand slips, and he lurches sideways, bracing himself now with his shoulder, and a new wave of pain washes over his face.

“You’re hurt, aren’t you?” I watch in disbelief as my little sister turns away from her mother, turns her very back on her, and reaches for Will’s hand. He doesn’t acknowledge her. “It’s going to be all right. No one’s going to hurt you here.”

“Verity…” Justine looks over us, taking in my thinly veiled panic and Geoff’s sorrowful face and the beat-up mess that is Will—then looks back at me. “What if…”

She’s going to tell us to go. I just know it. Get them out. Before your father walks in.

Verity’s still staring at Will, but my stepmother won’t take her eyes off me.

“I’ll heat some water.”

A gasp—no, a sob—spills out of me, shrill and brimming with the breath I had been holding, brimming with relief, brimming with astonishment that neither of them intend to turn us away.

“What’s your name?” Verity gently pulls Will away from the wall.

His eyes flick to me, so scared, so confused, so uncertain. Almost like he’s asking for permission: Should I give my name? I nod. If we’re trusting my family, may as well trust them fully. “Will.”

“Will, I’m Verie. You’re safe here, all right?” She tugs him further into the house, and I realize that if I don’t follow them, they will disappear. They’ll disappear—Will’s going to be out of sight again—and I won’t need to panic about where they are or what’s happening where I can’t see.

We’re safe.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened to you, okay, Will? But we’re going to help you. Don’t be frightened. Sit here, just for a…”

Her soft voice fades, soothing and calm and mature as a voice could be, and I realize that in the six years I’ve been gone, my sister changed—grew up—more than I believed possible.

Geoff pauses before he follows them. “Lettie?”

“Don’t even fucking start.” He’s supposed to be upset over the mess we’re in, or showering me in gratitude for saving all our asses, not making fun of me. “Let’s go ins—”

In the doorway, eyes solemn and shining with tears, looms a figure I truly believed I’d never behold again.

“Fath…”

I can’t even finish the word.

Somewhere, as if from a great distance, as if from across an ocean, I hear Verity say evenly, only a touch of apprehension in her voice, “Father, wait. Let me explain first.”

To Geoff, I blurt, “I’ll go back out. No one knows my face. I’ll look for Jamie. Be back soon.”

I don’t wait for him to argue. I just bolt out the door.

A coward—I’m such a goddamn coward. Again and again the word beats against the inside of my skull, cruel in its persistence. Too cowardly to get close to Will, to wrap my arms around him and tell him things will be all right—I let Verie, who met him mere minutes ago, do that. Too cowardly to speak a word to Justine—I simply stood there and stared. Too cowardly to even look my father in the eye.

I ran, leaving Geoff—Geoff of all people—to face him on his own.

Good god, what am I doing?

Too late to turn back now. Too fucking late for a lot of things.

The woods are quiet when I arrive back at the treeline. The smell of sulphur has faded, but the sense of dread has not. It cloaks the ground like moss, creeps along the earth, makes me shudder.

Please don’t be dead, Jamie.

The eeriness of the damp, misty woods, the stillness, the silence… They weigh on me like stones. Every step sinks my feet into the soft ground, and I can’t help but think of how many footsteps I am leaving behind in my wake.

I stumble over something soft and slippery—a jacket, abandoned and soggy from the rain.

The jacket, I realize, of someone who works for the constabulary. It isn’t blue, but the design is one I’ve seen very recently. My throat constricts.

Up ahead: a dark mound, too small to be a body. I have to bite back a sob when I stumble forward and see what it is: just more material, but that doesn’t mean it’s good news.

That shawl—the one I gave to Bree Cooper—soaked and dark with blood. Whose blood? Hers? Jamie’s? A constable’s?

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Something happened—something bad—

Instinct, panic, desperation, whatever it might be, has me rifling through the jacket’s pockets. Something. There has to be something in here that will give me a clue as to what happened that made Bree drop my crimson-stained shawl in the mud. Anything.

Anything.

My fingers collide with a folded stack of papers, drenched but just stiff enough to pull out and unfold.

Work papers for one of the prison staff, a medic, to get him in and out of the gates with ease. Left behind to turn to mush in the rain. I squint at the running black ink, only just able to make out the name.

Allan Armstrong Dale.

On the back, his address and next of kin. Other useless information I do not need.

But his address.

Perhaps this man is dead; perhaps that’s why his uniform is here and not on his miserable fucking body.

But perhaps he lives.

Perhaps he saw what happened.

I can’t go home to my family, to Will and Geoff, without news of Jamie.

I will find this Allan Armstrong Dale, see if he survived the altercation that happened here. If he did, if he is at his home recovering while Jamie bleeds out or lies cold or wallows in chains like Will did for so long, I will find out. And if he refuses to tell me what I want to know, I will wait patiently until he does—wait patiently for him to speak, with my blade pressed against his throat.

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Tagging: @starlit-hopes-and-dreams, @gala1981, @kixngiggles .

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agirlwiththoughtsandnegativity · 7 months

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I found this from a long time ago and decided to finally post some writing 😻

The hands of a man reach and grasp on to the top of the cliff side, knuckles white, arm muscles clenched. His chest heaves as he struggles to breathe through the immense panic of being dangled over the cliff side, with nothing but your fingers to save you.

His weak body attempts to pull him up, but it is no use; he is too injured. Cuts and bruises and slashes all along his body, delivered by enemies of his who have long since gone away, sure that they had defeated the once mighty man.

It’s only a game now, like the grim reaper is toying with him. What will kill him first? His blood rapidly gushing out; or his clammy hands slowly but surely slipping away.

He rests his weary head against the wall of stone in front of him, closing his eyes. I would assume he’s thinking of all the things he’s done in this life. Perhaps apologizing. Maybe praying. Wondering where he went wrong. But of course, how could I know for sure? I am not him.

I stand behind some stone, watching as I have done the whole time, waiting for a good time.

I am not a fool, not like those men who inflicted his wounds. I would have been smart enough to stay behind and make sure his heart stopped beating, that his number showed up on my Kill Database.

At least it’s easy for me to get my pay now.

I walk towards this man slowly, and he looks up when he hears my footsteps approaching. Surely he does not recognize me, has never met me or talked to me. But I can read his eyes. It’s almost like he’s asking me to finish him off. He knows he’s done for, but his brain won’t let him go.

Easy money, truly, but I also feel slightly bad for him. I guess I need to kill my thoughts like that though, if I am to truly climb the business.

It just feels wrong for so many people to end up as just numbers on the Kill Database, proof for the Holders -like myself- to get their payment from the disgustingly rich people who pay us.

It’s not morally right work, but it is one of few options in this world.

And if you play your cards right, you can boost yourself up to be an incredibly powerful and wealthy Holder, although you must be willing to accept the risks. Once you’ve climbed that latter, you’ll become a target for the Holder buyers, the people believing you are now a threat to them. I think the other Holders enjoy when they get one of those jobs, hoping that when this Holder is dead, they’ll take their place. It is foolish, but I participate in it.

I plan to be one of the few female high ranked Holders. It’s a male dominated industry, and I’d like to dominate it.

I’ve reached to right in front of him now, but he now has his eyes shut tightly. I’ve gotten lost in thought too long and I must just finish this job.

My boot goes down on his hands, and I masterfully use my foot to bring his hands off their purchase, sending him tumbling down the cliff side; to his death. He doesn’t even scream.

I hear the little click as my watch shows the Kill Database screen.

My name is at the top; Hannah Courts, with my kill number on the bottom; 24.

The most recent kill icon shows up in the middle, showing cliff side guy’s name and photo.

I start walking the opposite way; back to town. All I must do now is go find my payer, show him the proof on the Kill Database, and collect my payment. And then tomorrow, go to find more buyers.

The screen of the Kill Database turns off with a click as I tap it.

#I don’t think it’s that good but I haven’t posted writing in so longggg #should I post chapters from my wip???#writing #my writing #original writing #creative writing #writeblr #flash fiction #short story

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lambden · 2 years

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i consistently forget to crosspost my flash fics (because theyre posted anonymously to ao3 so by the time they actually publish they've left my to-do list 😭) but this website is always lacking in yengilla so fuck it here we go! especially poignant for today as this fic contains a terrible hangover, which i currently have. thanks st patrick

originally posted on ao3 here! M (sexual content + nudity but no smut), 4075 words, yennefer/fringilla, modern AU with no content warnings

The entire drive back home, her shoulders shake. Her knees wobble as she storms up to the apartment, and her keys tremble violently in the lock as she tries to force them in at the wrong angle. When she manages to let herself in, she slams the door behind herself so loudly that the whole building seems to shake. The whole world feels unstable, and it’s all Fringilla can do not to shake apart at the seams and crumble into a big heap of clothes and dust.

She launches herself at the fridge, anticipating the remainder of a bottle of wine so as to drown her sorrows. Instead her gaze lands on the meal that she prepared last night. Because, of course, she’d cooked dinner in advance, because it’s Yennefer’s fucking birthday and she’s supposed to go fucking celebrate. How many things can one fuck-up of a person forget?

She dials Yennefer’s number before she even registers pulling out her cell phone. To her best friend’s credit, the line only rings once before Yen picks up. “Hey, Fringilla, what’s—”

“I can’t come out,” Fringilla blabbers. “I can’t— I’m so sorry, I just can’t make it, I— I really badly fucked up a school thing and I think I’m going to lose my scholarship and my uncle won’t pay my tuition and I, um, I know it’s your birthday, I’m really sorry, I will absolutely send you money so you can get drunk tonight but I need to figure something out or else… Or else I’ll…”

“Hang on,” Yen says, firm and steady. Her voice is like a drop in the roaring ocean of panic, but Fringilla still pauses. “Let me… it’s loud in here, alright? Give me a second.”

Even as upset as she is, Fringilla somehow musters up amusement at Yennefer and her ever-busy life. “Where are you?”

“Tissaia took me out for lunch.” It sounds more like she’s at a nightclub, or in the lemur exhibit of the zoo. Then a door shuts as Yennefer likely sequesters herself in the bathroom. Her voice takes on a different quality. “What do you need to figure out?”

Fringilla closes the fridge and miserably drags herself over to the couch. “It’s so stupid,” she whines. “Like, really fucking stupid. I messed up the dates for our final project, and I thought… okay. So, they had a model come to the school so we could sketch them and I missed the first date but there was a make-up session. And I thought the make-up session was today, but it turns out it was last week, and the deadline is today. And if I fail this class, I’m absolutely fucked.”

“So you need… what, a model?” Yen laughs.

Fringilla closes her eyes tightly, blocking out the cruel sound. She only reconnected with Yennefer recently; after boarding school their paths grew apart and their rivalry had dwindled down to nothing. She’s been trying hard to make this friendship work, but she supposes that some of the old wounds are still sore. Or, at least, she’s extra sensitive right now because her life is falling the fuck apart.

Yen coaxes, bringing her back to reality, “Bring your sketchbook out tonight. There’ll be tons of models!”

“Won’t work,” says Fringilla, salty and embarrassed.

“Why not?”

“Because… it was a nude modelling session,” she mutters. “The model was naked.”

She half-expects Yennefer to suggest they go to the strip club, cavalier as anything, but the woman is uncharacteristically quiet. Fringilla can still hear white noise through the call— Yennefer’s heavy breaths, reduced to tinny audio— but otherwise it’s like the line has gone dead.

“Yen—”

“Why don’t you just watch some porn?” Her friend’s voice has taken on an entirely different tone now, one that Fringilla hasn’t heard since they fumbled around a few times. Her blood races even at the word ‘porn’, making her feel juvenile. “There are millions of naked photos online, Fringilla. You could probably even find nudes of the same model.”

“It won’t be the same,” she says, although that is a really good idea. She juggles her phone into her hands and puts the call on speaker, tapping in ‘Francesca Findabair naked photos’. The query returns only a few results, and none of them even look that much like pornography. With a jolt of humiliation, Fringilla realizes she has SafeSearch on. “I need… I need to look at them in person. I can draw from reference, but it’s never the same as seeing the real thing. But… ugh, I guess I can try.”

“That’s the spirit,” Yennefer says, still sounding a little thick. Without warning, she hangs up the call, leaving Fringilla staring at the screen and wondering if it dropped. But Yen doesn’t call her back, so maybe someone else just walked into the bathroom, or maybe Tissaia came to fetch her. After all, it is her birthday. Fringilla should probably bother something else with this.

Her eyes unfocus as she stares at Francesca Findabair’s website. All the photos are incredibly tasteful, and it looks like she does more photography and activism than modelling. The button labelled ‘Contact Me?’ is only one tap away, but Fringilla hesitates.

“I can’t,” she wails to her empty, unsympathetic living room. The dying plant in the corner offers no response. Fringilla swears, setting down her phone and going to heat up dinner. If she’s going to look up random naked people on the internet, she would rather not do it on an empty stomach.

Before she knows it, the microwave has beeped at least six times and she’s deep in a rabbit hole of ethical pornography consumption. Porn has never done much for Fringilla so she’s not sure where to begin to look; even the websites with user-posted content don’t say much about the users consenting to having their likenesses drawn. She looks up nude stock photos and clicks through about four dozen photographs of a lovely woman named Callonetta, but nothing strikes her interest the way a real person would. She considers, idly, using her own reflection— but given that she can’t even draw her own hand without getting frustrated, she thinks it might lead her down a dark path of self-deprecation.

In succession: the microwave beeps a seventh time. Fringilla declares, “Fuck this!” And the buzzer to her apartment rings.

Outside the door is Yennefer, who doesn’t give Fringilla even a millisecond to breathe before heading straight inside. Fringilla doesn’t shriek but it’s a near thing. There’s a dish in the sink from breakfast and her bed is unmade. She hasn’t swept the floors, or wiped the mirrors, and on her phone screen there is still a picture of a blonde naked woman holding a guitar.

Yennefer enters this mess without hesitation or apparent complaint, her gaze sweeping over most of the daily debris. She sees the phone, because of course she does, and she snatches it up, laughing again. Mean and beautiful, just like she was back at Aretuza. “Pretty. Is she your type?”

“No,” Fringilla almost screams, lunging for her phone. Yennefer hands it over easily, grinning as Fringilla swipes away the photos of Callonetta. The woman’s violet gaze is shrewd and too smart for Fringilla’s liking, and under her coat is an extremely tight black dress that looks like she might have been sewn into it. Her birthday dress. Fringilla screws up her face, shaking her head. “Yen, I can’t go out with you. I’m sorry!”

“I know,” huffs Yennefer. “I felt too sorry for you, darling, I couldn’t go out drinking without my favourite girl.” Fringilla’s face heats at that, and she steps away, pocketing her phone. “So I gave it some thought, and I came up with another solution.”

Since she was a child, Fringilla has been extraordinarily bad at accepting help. She understands the benefit of community, but as she was packaged up and sent off to a boarding school for exceptional children, and then failed to make any lasting friendships there, she began to discover that most things really do just work better when you tackle them yourself. She bites her lip now, beginning the motion of shaking her head, psyching herself up for the inevitable fight this will turn into. But the awful, frustrating truth is that she doesn’t want Yennefer to help her, not when Yennefer’s career has gone so perfectly and Fringilla has fought tooth and nail every step of the way. This isn’t her final assignment but it’s important, and she fucked up and she knows it but she still thinks she can handle it herself.

Then Yennefer offers her solution, and Fringilla’s petty irritation evaporates in a heartbeat.

“Yen,” she begins, shakily, as Yennefer takes off her coat. The dress is next; she pulls it up to reveal dark, but not opaque tights stretched over her hips. Under the tights are underwear, under the bust of the dress is nothing. Her breasts spill out easily. Fringilla has, of course, seen her own bare chest in the mirror countless times, but it’s wholly different to see someone else. Her voice softer, more fragile, Fringilla breaks: “Yennefer—”

“Oh, stop it.” Yen actually tsks. Fuck, she’s infuriating. “You need a model, right? So draw me. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

That much is true. Fringilla still hesitates, even as her mind replays the memories of what they had shared together. She hasn’t seen the other woman like this since the night before they graduated. Somehow, she looks better than ever.

“You’re so fucking difficult,” bitches Yen. “Fine. Fine! I’ll just strip down right here, shall I?”

And Yennefer kicks off her heels, and as Fringilla tries very hard to come up with some kind of coherent protest, the tights come off too. They roll down in one smooth motion, pulling Yennefer’s underwear along with them. Her thighs are bare but other than that she’s unshaved; Fringilla is drawn to the sight like a magnet to the earth’s pole. She stares, helplessly, at the thick mess of curls above Yennefer’s cunt.

The microwave beeps.

Fringilla lets out a squeak, and hurries to open and then slam the microwave door shut. When she turns around, mortified, Yennefer is watching her with deep, mean amusement. Her legs are slightly spread, and her hands are on her hips like she knows exactly what she’s doing. She steps away from her pile of clothes, over to Fringilla’s sparsely decorated living room. She starts to descend onto the couch, and all Fringilla can think about over the furious pounding of her heart is that if Yennefer sits on the couch with her bare pussy, Fringilla will never, ever be able to sit there again without getting insanely fucking horny.

She cries, “Wait!” Yennefer straightens up, and looks over— her small breasts bounce with the movement. Fringilla rounds the couch. “Wait, you…”

Yennefer, for the first time in years, seems timid. She doesn’t cover up but something in her posture changes, making her look like she once had, before Aretuza.

“Not on the couch,” Fringilla demands. “This isn’t Titanic, for fuck’s sake. Get… get on the ottoman.”

Yen glances over at the small ottoman, then shoots her an incredulous look. Fringilla huffs, pulling the footstool over so that she has space to sit on it— and carefully not ogling her in the process.

Yennefer sits, stiffly but not properly, her ankles crossed and her thighs and calves pressed tightly together. Like this, it looks like she could be bathing. Not salacious, aside from the nudity, but not vulnerable either.

“Not— okay, it’s… that’s fine, but I’d like it better like this,” Fringilla tries, sitting down on the couch across from Yennefer. She pulls up her feet onto the sofa, plastering her thighs to her chest and wrapping her arms around her knees. Yennefer, slowly but surely, does the same; she lowers her head to tuck her chin out of sight until only her eyes and nose peek out from above her arms, and Fringilla nods fervently. “Yes, that’s perfect. Can you hold that?”

“Yes,” grumbles Yennefer. “You’re missing all the good parts, though.”

“Well…” Fringilla clears her throat. When did her apartment get so fucking hot? “... Not really.”

Her gaze dips down to steal a glance between Yennefer’s parted ankles, where her gorgeous cunt is hidden in shadow. Fringilla swallows a dry mouthful of air, and when she looks back up to meet Yennefer’s gaze, she sees those violet eyes focused right on her.

“I had better grab my sketchbook,” she stutters, unfolding her body. Yennefer doesn’t move a muscle. “Just… hold it right there.”

This isn’t how she had expected to celebrate her birthday.

Fringilla hasn’t moved since she sat down with her sketchbook, except to occasionally shift back and forth on the couch. The sleeves of her college-branded sweater are rolled up to her elbows, and she keeps biting her lip and sticking her tongue out in concentration as her focus dances between her artwork and her model. Yennefer watches her just as closely, taking in the wispy baby hairs above her ears, the lines of her neck, the set of her shoulders.

When she had known Fringilla, they were just girls— teenagers who fooled around and broke into Tissaia’s secret herb storage, but girls nonetheless. Fringilla is a woman now, and as much as Yennefer has been enjoying rekindling their friendship, she has to admit that she doesn’t really know the woman before her at all. Fringilla’s face might have stayed beautifully smooth and free of wrinkles but her eyes are deep and wise, and there’s a measured sadness in her smile.

Yennefer doesn’t know much about what happened after they stopped talking. She knows Fringilla graduated with honours from university and now is in grad school, pursuing art for some fucking reason. It brings Yen no small amount of joy to imagine how much the art degree must piss off Fringilla’s stuffy old uncle. The joy is only slightly tempered by the knowledge that Fringilla never wanted to go into art— unlike all the other bleeding hearts at Aretuza, Fringilla had been a stickler for the rules. She wanted nothing more than for her life to follow a strict and rigid trajectory— the same trajectory that Yennefer has found herself on. It would be amusingly ironic if it wasn’t so depressing.

Fringilla bites her lip again, this time as she stares between Yennefer’s legs. Her soft lead pencil swirls and swirls, scratching the paper rhythmically, and Yennefer realizes Fringilla must be drawing her pubes. Again, that should be funnier than it really is. Her cunt pulses; she’s been wet for at least the last hour, but somehow the idea of Fringilla carefully drawing each hair is enough to send another rush of arousal through her.

Well, truth be told, she’s been wet since back at the restaurant, when she’d called Fringilla from the bathroom and heard her say ‘nude’ in that stupid, stuck-up, prim and proper voice.

Yennefer rolls her neck around, just once— it isn’t even a full rotation, but Fringilla’s eyes snap up to meet hers. Fury courses through her expression, with remorse hot on its heels. “If you need a break, tell me,” she says harshly.

“I’m fine,” mutters Yennefer, burrowing down behind her folded arms again.

“Thanks again for doing this,” Fringilla says, distracted. It’s actually the first time that she’s thanked her, but Yen isn’t going to get pedantic. She’s distracted too— trying to keep her muscles all still is a workout of its own, especially when Fringilla is staring so closely at the outline of her calves and her breasts pressed up against her knees and her bare ankles. This would work a lot better if Fringilla had just tied her down. Still sounding absent, the other woman offers, “I can get you a drink if you’d like?”

“This would have worked better if you’d just tied me down.” Damn her stupid, stupid, impulsive brain. Fringilla’s eyes flash but she doesn’t rise to Yennefer’s offer or chide her for making jokes, just nodding before returning to the sketch. Somehow the lack of a reaction is more annoying than chastising would have been. “We can get drinks after.”

“Right,” Fringilla mutters. “I’ve never pregamed like this before.”

That knocks a surprised laugh out of Yennefer; her pulse quickens as Fringilla’s eyes dip down between her legs when she laughs. Is she moving there? Is it visible? Experimentally, she tightens and then relaxes her cunt.

If Fringilla can see a difference, she doesn’t let it show on her face. “I hope I’m not making everyone wait tonight. I really do appreciate your help with this.”

“It’s fine. We weren’t going out until later anyway, right?”

“Right.” Fringilla clears her throat. “Did you invite anyone special?”

Rather than pointing out that she’s spending her afternoon sitting naked in a special someone’s tiny apartment so that they can draw her naked, Yennefer changes the subject: “Do you remember that one time we snuck out to that bar down by Tor Lara?”

Fringilla smiles, and it is radiant. “Yeah. We were all counting on Triss’ ID to get us in, even though none of us looked like her at all.”

“Yes! And poor Triss only wanted to order fries, but we told the bartender it was her birthday and he brought over those godawful shots—”

“Oh, those were terrible—”

“And do you remember Glacella dancing?”

“I remember having to carry her out,” deadpans Fringilla. “Although, granted, she wasn’t as bad as Sabrina! Remember how she threw up in the bathroom?”

“’Course. I remember her throwing up all over one of the Tor Lara boys’ pricks!”

“That is not true,” Fringilla actually gasps. Yennefer laughs; she can’t help it. “None of us were cool enough at Aretuza to actually hook up with anyone.”

“Well,” drawls Yen. “That’s not accurate. We were pretty cool.”

“We were the lamest of all,” laments Fringilla. Despite her whining, she’s obviously embarrassed and pleased by the memory— Yen watches her blush and hide a smile. “We had no idea what we were in for.”

Rather than properly acknowledge that sobering thought, Yennefer cranes her neck to try to sneak a glance at the drawing. Fringilla angles the sketchbook away, and she sighs. “C’mon, I can’t even take a peek?”

“Alright,” Fringilla relents. With obvious hesitation, she turns it around to reveal her work. Yennefer’s anticipation dies in her throat as she stares blankly at the figure on the page.

It’s her, but it isn’t— it’s her as she was, back in high school. Sure, her posture looks the same as it does now, and her jaw is even and symmetrical, but Fringilla has captured none of her adult beauty and all of her inner vulnerability. Curled around herself like this, she looks defensive.

“You’re going to get a great grade,” Yennefer says, the words ashen on her tongue. I hate it. “Is that really how you see me?”

“No,” Fringilla says quickly. “I… I wanted to capture… I wanted to put you in a different light.” Her face twists horribly. “You don’t like it?”

I fucking hate it. “It makes me… I look so sad,” Yennefer says. “So, I suppose it’s very good art. But I can’t help but wish that you saw me, um…”

“I could draw a pin-up,” offers Fringilla. “Really, it might even be better— this is only a first draft!” Her gaze flicks to her watch. They almost certainly don’t have time.

“Fringilla,” Yennefer says, heavy and steady. She lies through her teeth, “I think you nailed it.”

Never in her life has Fringilla been this hungover. She practically crawls to the kitchen to grab herself water, noting with distaste the leftover dishes from yesterday and the clothes strewn about her apartment from last night. It’s a wonder she had the good sense to pull on pyjamas, let alone that she’d made it safely into her own bed.

She doesn’t regret it, although right now the pounding ache in her head begs to differ. It had been fun to meet Yennefer’s new friends, and reconnect with their mutual ones— and they were drinking not only to celebrate Yennefer’s birthday, but to celebrate Fringilla not failing her class. She had scanned and sent in the drawing of Yennefer yesterday with a signed consent form they’d drawn up together, and although she hasn’t checked her email she’s sure that her professor will find it as inspiring as she does.

The thought of Yennefer’s disappointed face flashes across her mind. Then another roiling wave of nausea crashes through her whole body, and Fringilla clings to the edge of the sink, sighing. She literally does not have the capacity to think about Yennefer’s reaction to her nude drawing right now. It’s all she can do to not die of embarrassment thinking about how drunk she’d been last night.

She would love to blame it all on Sabrina, since the blonde had been overly generous and eager to get everyone on her level, but… by the end of the night, Fringilla had been the one begging to make future plans with the others after consuming enough drinks to lose count.

Her doorbell buzzes, and the noise is agonising. Fringilla croaks to the mystery visitor, “Absolutely fucking not.” They can come back later, when she’s a human person and not a stack of bad decisions in a sweaty, smelly sack of skin.

The buzzer rings again. “Fucking fuck.”

Standing outside her door is, impossibly, again, Yennefer. Fringilla doesn’t fully open the door this time, too busy calculating the math in her head. They had been out drinking until three in the morning, and she hadn’t even been the last to leave. According to her traitorous watch, it is eight in the fucking morning. That leaves exactly five hours for Yennefer to make herself beautiful again, which somehow she has, and force herself upright, and, for some fucking reason, return here.

Yennefer pushes past her without saying a word. She’s wearing the same heels as last night, and the same coat— her tights are missing, but she’s otherwise flawless. Fringilla’s head swims, and she groans, “Is this going to be a regular occurrence?”

“I just think you could do better.”

“Better?” Fringilla stares, rubbing her temples. She feels like she’s doing pretty fucking great, all things considered— there are no large puke stains on her PJs, so she’ll call this a win. “Better than what?”

Yennefer pushes the door shut beside them, and unbuckles her coat. She removes it, carefully moving to hang it on the coat rack— Fringilla’s coat should be hung up there too, except she must have thrown it somewhere else last night when she stumbled home. She would take a look for it right now, except she’s got more pressing concerns. Like all the air seems to have left the room, and her heart is going a mile a minute. And Yennefer is completely naked under her coat.

“I,” Fringilla begins. Her gaze dips down to Yennefer’s clean, bare breasts. She catches a whiff of the woman’s signature perfume, and she loses her next thought.

Yennefer, unaffected and unbothered, walks over to the ottoman that she had posed on so diligently last night. She doesn’t say a word, just haughtily staring down her nose at Fringilla from across the apartment— so maybe unbothered isn’t exactly true. She sits, folding her ankles primly.

“Yennefer,” begs Fringilla thickly. “I am so hungover.”

“Show me how you see me,” demands Yen.

“What the fuck,” she mutters, and then, when Yennefer doesn’t move at all, her small breasts heaving indignantly as she waits for Fringilla to join her; “fine, fine, you insane woman, fuck. Fine!”

Her sketchbook is right where she left it, and her pencils are still on the table. Fringilla pads over to sit on the couch in the very same spot, and flips to a new page. Yesterday, Yennefer had been static, dignified— a perfect model. Now her shoulders rise and fall, as though she’s nervous to be portrayed. There’s even a slight affect to her voice: “How do you want me?” If she was anyone else, Fringilla would accuse her of being worried.

She takes a deep breath, setting the sketchbook down on the couch beside her. Fringilla reaches up and begins to unbutton her pyjamas, grumbling, “It’ll be easier if I just show you.”

#my writing #yengilla fic #yengilla #fringilla fic #flash fic challenge #now to write the next one before my hangover consumes me <3

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