#instead all we get is *keys jingle* *door shuts*

[tifixation]

i didn’t think post nut clarity existed until juno “and sometimes, when the whole thing feels too much, it’s tempting to lie down and let all the other runners trample you” steel happened

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ 5 more minutes ] l. hughes

paring : Luke Hughes x fem!reader

summary : Luke’s girlfriend surprises him in Newark after his last college hockey game

warning(s) : none really. just very fluffy and emotional. also very short bc it was 1 am when i came up w this idea

author’s note : in honor of today being my last day as an ncaa student athlete, i quickly wrote this up. i was feeling very emotional and i needed a way to express how i felt. hence why we now have a very fluffy / emotional fic. some of the comments luke makes are some of my thoughts about how my own season ended yesterday. it’s kinda sad but it had to be done. you’re welcome (i think ?)

༺═──────────────═༻

Jack texts her when he has picked up his younger brother from the airport. She begins to pace around the living room of Jack’s apartment that he’s now going to be sharing with Luke.

She has no clue what state Luke is going to be in when he walks through the door. He’s probably going to be so pissed that he spent the last two minutes or so of his college career in the penalty box instead of on the ice or on the bench with his teammates. He’s been so busy traveling that he hasn’t had time to sit and reflect on the season.

That’s the reason that she hopped on a flight to Newark as soon as the clock hit zero against Quinnipac. She just wanted to make sure that he’s okay before he goes and signs his NHL contract in two days and joins Jack on the Devils.

Either he’s going to be really upset and pissed or he’s going to be excited to start the next chapter in his career. She has no idea which version of Luke she’s going to get.

Keys jingle in the door about a half hour after Jack texts her to let her know he has Luke. She stops pacing and stands in the middle of the living room. Her eyes are on the door as Jack pushes it open.

“… not really in the mood for any surprises,” Luke says as he walks through the door. “I’m so tired.”

“I think you’ll like this one,” Jack tells his brother as he shuts the door behind them. Luke drops the big duffel bag that contains his hockey gear on the floor by the door in the foyer area. Then he finally makes his way to the living room with his suitcase.

He freezes mid-step when he sees his girlfriend.

With a small wave and a smile, she says, “Hi, Lukey.”

Luke crosses the room in five strides because of his stupidly long legs. He envelops her in a hug and buries his face in her neck. She wraps her arms around his torso and they stand like that for what feels like an eternity.

She doesn’t mind. If it means that Luke’s okay then she’ll stand like this forever.

She presses soft kisses into his shoulder and whispers to him, “I’m so proud of you, Luke. So incredibly proud of you. I know that’s not how you wanted the season to end but you did everything you could, and for that I am so, so proud of you.”

A quiet sob wracks Luke’s body as he pulls back from the hug. She sees tears in his eyes and frowns. A couple roll down his cheek and she reaches up to wipe them away. Jack silently sneaks out of the apartment. He thinks he’s slick but she saw him leave behind Luke.

“I hated that I wasnt out there those last two minutes,” he tells her, voice shaky. “Maybe I could’ve done something that pushed the game into overtime or won it for us. Instead I was in the penalty box while my team had to fight even harder to get goals because they were down a man.”

“I know, baby,” she softly replies. “I wish I could’ve given you guys five more minutes. You all fought so hard. So fucking hard. I’m so sorry that’s how your season ended.”

More tears roll down Luke’s cheeks and she continues to wipe them away.

“I feel like I let them down,” he whispers. “I could’ve fought harder for them. For this season. I let them down when they needed me most and now I’m abandoning them.” His words break her heart.

She shakes her head and cups his jaw. “You didn’t let anyone down,” she tells him. “You did what you could in the sixty minutes you had. They know that and they will always remember how hard you fought for them. You’re so important to everyone on that team and you played such an important role in getting as far as you did as a team. They’re just as proud of you as I am because you are about to start an amazing new chapter in your hockey career. You aren’t abandoning them, Luke. They want you to move forward in your career. They understand that you’re ready and that this is what you want.”

Luke nods and wraps his hands around her wrists. She continues to look up at her boyfriend.

She’ll never understand how he feels because she isn’t an athlete. All she can do now is try to help him realize that he isn’t the worst teammate that he thinks he is at the moment. She doesn’t want him to have that mindset as he transitions from college to the NHL.

Losing is tough in any sport. She knows that much and she is going to make sure that Luke understands that it is okay to feel this way but that he also has to get ready to move forward.

“Thank you for being here,” he says after a moment of comfortable silence. “Sorry I’m such a mess. I didn’t think it would affect me this much.”

“It just shows how much you love every team that you’re on,” she replies. “You dedicate so much time to hockey because you love it. You’re allowed to feel this way and feel it for a little bit. You do have a contract to sign in a few days so I’m giving you tonight to get out everything you feel about the Michigan season ended. Tomorrow, it’s time to get excited. I’m here to help you get excited.”

A smile finally cracks through the frown that’s been plastered on Luke’s face since he saw her. She dries his cheeks one more time before she pulls him back into a hug.

Luke presses a soft kiss to the top of her head. “I love you,” he says into her hair. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Shut up. Yes you do,” she retorts. “I love you too. Let’s go get you unpacked then we can take a nap because I heard you tell Jack how tired you are.”

When she pulls away from the hug and starts to walk to his suitcase, Luke grabs her hand and pulls her back to him. She looks up at him for a quick second before his lips are on hers. The kiss surprises her because of how emotional he is, but sometimes a kiss is all it takes to feel better.

She happily smiles into the kiss and runs her fingers through his curls as she returns it. It’s one of his favorite things she does so many he’ll start to feel better a little faster. Luke loves feelings her fingers in his curls. It’s the reason he doesn’t try to tame them.

The front door opens again and a voice says, “Okay, we are establishing some rules. Rule one, the door stays open three inches when your girlfriend is over. I don’t need any babies crying in my apartment at three in the morning right now.”

They both pull back and she looks behind Luke at Jack, who has a disgusted look on his face. She smiles but Luke’s cheeks turn a tomato red. She laughs and shakes her head.

“Rule two,” Jack continues. “No making out anywhere I can see you. That means the-”

“Jack!” Luke snaps. “I get it. We get it. Also, I’m not going to be leaving my door open three inches. If I want to have sex with my girlfriend then I’m going to. It’s my room and we split the rent now so I’ll do what I want.”

“None of that premarital kissing stuff where I can see or hear it,” Jack tells his brother. “I don’t need that in my life.”

She laughs and takes the opportunity to grab Luke’s bag and suitcase. “Don’t worry,” she says. “We won’t traumatize you. Again.”

Both Luke and his girlfriend laugh as they make their way to Luke’s new room, leaving a disgusted and definitely traumatized Jack Hughes in the living room.

༺═──────────────═༻

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[harlowhockeystick]

hi!!!!! i was wondering if i could request the reader forgetting date night w rafe because she was jus so busy?? maybe like angst to fluff :))

february prompts | rafe cameron x reader | reader is kind of a ditz, please send more rafe i am down so bad

the tick tock of the clock makes your mind go crazy. watching as time goes by, picking at your nails while you anxiously listen for the hum of his truck and the scratching of his tires against the gravel road outside of your house. anxiously waiting.

it wouldn't be the first time he was late, though. he'd been late a few times before, you got used to his bad habit. very rarely was he twenty-five minutes late. by now, you're sure that they already gave your table away to someone else. maybe if he shows up in the next ten minutes you can still make your movie, but you have doubts.

five more minutes, then i'll call.

four went by. you heard a familiar sound outside, but you turn around to see it's a truck pulling into your neighbors driveway.

three went by. you felt your phone buzz, but it was just an update from instagram.

two went by. one went by.

"hey rafey, what're you up to?" you ask nervously, staring at the clock that keeps mocking you with it's tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.

he sighs on the other end of the line, "i'm still up here at work, why?" you bit your lip at a silly attempt to keep from crying. as soon as one tear fell more and more continued to fall.

"well, um, remember how we had reservations tonight? at that new place downtown?" you mention through tears and he hears it loud and clear. he almost drops his phone in anger and disappointment at himself. you hear him sigh and knock his fist against something a couple times.

"baby, i am so sorry," he whispers. you hear on the other side of the phone rafe shuffling a few things around, the jingling of keys and heavy footsteps.

"if you leave now i can meet you at the movie theater," you interrupted.

"what? no, no i'll pick you up. no need for you to drive all the way over there. i'll be at your place shortly," rafe quickly shut your idea down. he ended the phone call and you remained sat on the couch until he walked through your front door with the key you gave him.

he did just a few minutes later. rafe didn't greet you with a hug or a hello but instead he pressed his lips against your own and he placed his hands on your hips.

"i'm sorry sweetie, i got too distracted at work," he pulled away and tucked some hair behind your ear. it was always work that took him away from you. honestly you weren't even sure what rafe did for work. you knew that it had something to do with his dad, but he never told you what his exact job or title was. rafe just explained he works so that he can buy you all the things you want, take you to anywhere you want, and then some.

"c'mon lets go to the movies," he took your hand and walked with you out of the house. he reached up to tap the top doorframe of your front door and when he did his shirt rose up and you saw a gun tucked in the back of his pants, you gasped a little. what did he do for work that caused him to carry a gun with him?

rafe was a tough, almost scary man to some people. he was never scary to you, though. throughout the night he made up for him being late, getting a little handsy during the movie and going out for ice cream after, getting you as many scoops as you wanted.

"rafey," you asked while changing into your pajamas for the night, "what do you do for work again?" the question had been lingering all night in your head, you couldn't even focus on the movie because you kept wracking you brain. had he told you, and you just forgot? were you not paying attention when he told you?

"i told you sweetie, i just do boring stuff, stuff you wouldn't understand. i just make enough money so i can spoil you silly," he answered you coming up behind you and giving you a kiss in the curve of your neck.

"well, i saw your gun tucked in your pants. it kinda scared me, what do you do for work that makes you carry a gun?" rafes heart rate began to go up a little bit as he felt his cheeks get red.

"that's just precaution, lots of freaks out there." rafe kisses your cheek and pulls you back to the bedroom. he always keeps an extra pair of pajamas in your closet for the nights he stays over, which is often. "c'mon, let's go to bed."

he lets the hum of some documentary lull you to sleep in his arms. he takes a breath of relief, he doesn't know how much longer he can keep you oblivious.

[cherry-leclerc]

red diamond ☆ cs55

genre: humor, fluff, arthistory!reader

word count: 2.8k

The story of when you and Carlos met and how the mutual connection of art takes you two on a pleasing journey that will leave you realizing a thing or two.

req!... i did a bit of touch ups from the request i got but i hope that anon doesn't mind AHH. hope you guys like it :)

“No, no, no! Ritorno! Per favore!” 

Gasping for air, you curl over as you groan in frustration. Punching your bag, you watch lamely as the cab drives away. It was your own fault - you had overslept - but you seriously thought you would make it on time. You moved to Italy a few months ago to study Art History in one of the most prestigious universities. But along with that, there were lots of things being asked from you; volunteering in museums, endless essays, and ridiculous research that even had you second guessing your choices. 

“Stai bene?” 

Spinning around, you make eye contact with a tall man who secretly made your blood run cold. You shiver as you nod, hoping it would be enough and that he would just leave you alone. But he doesn’t budge, he only digs a single hand into his pocket. Your stomach drops.

“Am I about to get mugged?”

“What?” 

Chewing on your bottom lip, you point out his all black outfit and how creepily he kept his hand hidden from plain sight. Bright pink colors his cheeks as he instantly raises his arms up in defense. God no! Oh sh- I’m sorry, he squeaks as he winces. You let out a breath of relief as you rub your arms to help keep warm. 

“Do I look like a thief or something?”

Scanning the empty road, you squint as you try your best to find another ride. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea you’ve had to go to the Sistine Chapel at night. “Or something.” He softly laughs. Shimming out of his sweater, he shyly hands it over. “That’s very nice of you, but it’s okay. You’ll get cold.”

“I won’t. Plus, you’re shivering so much that I can hear your teeth chattering. Seriously, take it.” Instead of telling him no, you decide against it since you were two seconds away from getting frostbite. Grazie, you whisper as you tug the sweater over your head. He looks away as soon as your arms swing up and allows him to get a good glimpse of your white lingerie. “What are you doing out alone so late at night?”

Warming your hands deep inside the hoodies pockets, you respond, “I was trying to get a lift to the museum. I have to take some notes for a lecture I have tomorrow morning. I was supposed to go a whole lot earlier, but my nap was longer than I had intended.” He glances at you for a moment before jingling his keys up. You raise a brow.

“Can’t reassure you that the museum will still be open at a time like this, but I could offer you a ride back home.”

Agreeing turned out to be the best thing you could have ever done. Turns out Carlos drove for a living - whatever that means; he had been suspiciously blunt with it - but long before, he had actually studied Art History himself back in Spain. Ever so kindly, he had helped you research about The Creation of Adam. You were extremely impressed when he kept naming facts from the top of his head.

Shutting your notebook, you sheepishly shake your head. “You just saved me from embarrassment in front of my professor. She could be a bit mean when we don’t get our stuff done. Typical Italians.”

“Not all Italians are like that.”

“Sure.” Pause. “But she is.” He nods as he points towards your main entrance. Clapping your hands, you leap up from your couch. “Thanks again for all the help. I really appreciate it. I also appreciate that you didn’t turn out to be some murderer.” He squints his eyes teasingly.

“Thief or murderer, which one is it?” 

“Preferably neither.” You open the door slowly as he steps out. “See you around, Carlos.”

“Of course.”

-

A few weeks later, you’re in a complete hurry. You had overslept, again, and it was looking as if you weren’t going to make it to class on time. You mumble a line of curses at the clear image of Professor Clara lecturing you for the thousandth time. It didn’t help either the way your key got jammed at your quick attempt to lock the door. 

“For fucks sake-”

“Need help?”

“Merda!” You drop your coffee as you spin around with a hand over your stomach from the sudden shock. The familiar brunette cringes as he bends down to pick up your thermo. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He carefully takes your bag from your arm. “I just thought-”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off as you share a tight lipped smile. “It’s nice to see you, but I don’t have time for this. I’m late as it is.”

“Typical Italians.”

Your mouth drops open as you snatch your things back from him. “For your information, I am not Italian. Also, what are you doing here?” He beams.

“I have a favor to ask.”

Straightening your posture, you chirp as you take him by the hand towards his car. “Me too. Can I have a ride?”

You knew he’d agree. What you didn’t know was how excited he was to be near your presence. From the moment he first saw you he felt a sort of attraction that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Yes, you were breathtakingly beautiful but there was something about your aura. Everything about you made him crave more. He felt so stupid that it took him this long to see you again.

“Sooo. What do you need?”

“Right.” Turning on his blinker, he quickly glances at the GPS. “Are you free later?”

“Way to make a girl feel special.”

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “It’s just that there’s this painting…” When he notices your lost expression, he taps his finger desperately against the wheel. “Doni Tondo. Ever heard of it?” The mention has you buzzing as you nod excitedly. “Of course you do. Anyways, they’re holding an auction up for it. I need you.” 

“You do know I’m a broke college student who lives off of pizza and pasta, right? If you’re looking for money then I’m just going to let you down-”

“Money’s not the issue.” Flashy, you hiss as he smiles. “I have the money, but I need you. I need a date.” Why? He makes a left turn. “Do you know the meaning behind the painting?” You shake your head. “It depicts the importance of family. A healthy marriage.”

“I’m not following…”

The Spaniard becomes distressed as he sees you’re getting closer to your destination. He presses down on the brake a bit. “They want couples. Wealthy couples. Someone who they know that if they buy this piece of art then it’s going to be in good hands. That it’s going to continue serving its purpose.” He turns to you as he cocks his head a bit. “I need it as a birthday present for my mother. She’s been wanting it for ages and…Please.”

Putting the car in park right in front of the university entrance, he hopes to find an answer in your face as you keep it blank. Instead, you gather your things as you step out of his car. A delicate hand waves for him to roll the shiny window down.

“Pick me up at 8.”

-

“This is coconuts! I’ve never been inside of the Uffizi Gallery,” you whisper-shout as you cling onto his arm. He smiles down at you as he leads you to the small group of potential buyers. There were six in total - making it more intimate and scary. You were scared. His warm hand makes its way to cradle your face as he leans down to kiss your temple. You physically melt.

“It only costs a couple of euros.”

“You’re killing the vibe,” you groan as you pinch his cheek. He shrugs as he hushes you. Enzo, the coordinator, does a quick introduction with a cheerful voice. Everyone else seems to be listening just to listen, but you and Carlos were picking up on all of it like a sponge. “He’s a genius.” You stare in awe. The brunette stifles a laugh. He’s not the one who created these paintings, you know that, right? You throw a deadpanned glare. “You’re killing it,” you remind him. He pokes his tongue out.

“Why don’t we get started, shall we?” 

The rich are animals - you come up with that conclusion quick enough. The sum that flies past their lips has you gawking as you hide behind the Spaniards tall figure. €50,000, a man yells with a blonde clinging onto his arm with a wide grin. You choke. 

“Anyone willing to go for more than €50,000?”

“€100,000.”

Spinning your head to face Carlos, you have to stop yourself from calling it off. It wasn’t like it was your money anyways. Mrs. BotchedUpBoobsButThinksItsNormal grows red as she whispers to the bald man. He nods. €150,000! 

“€240,000.”

“What?” Distangling your arm from his, you freeze as you feel your fake ring fly off your ring finger. Carlos had slipped in on you - he wore a matching one - as a way to make you both look more of a real couple. A nervous laugh bubbles out of you as you clumsily run over to where it lies. “My apologies!” Enzo bends down before handing it to you. Mio Dio! What a diamond! Red and rare!

Walking over to you both, Carlos takes it from him as he slips it back onto your hand. “Good eye.” But Enzo is basically drooling as he takes your hand to analyze it. 

“I’ve never seen one so up close and personal! Very exquisite! You must feel extremely lucky, tesoro!” 

“Very,” you cheer as you pull your hand away. “How about we get back to it? Excuse my interruption-”

“So, where did he propose?”

“Sistine Chapel.”

Your cheeks burn up from his words. That was where you were trying to get to the first night you two met. To take notes of Michelangelo’s, The Creation of Adam. Much like now, you two were on a mission to retreat Michelangelo's, Doni Tondo. Enzo swoons as he shakes the Spaniards hand.

“Stravagante! What a love story! I could tell - feel - the chemistry between you two. It’s real.”

“Oh, we’re not-”

“Not used to getting such high compliments from someone like you!” Carlos cuts you off as he tugs you closer, large hand laying over your hip. You shiver. He points to the painting. “What do you say?”

“Sold to Mr. and Mrs. Sainz!”

-

A whole crew follows in black SUV’s as they carry the painting to Carlos’s home, after Enzo had insisted it should be done that same day. Extending your hand out, you admire the ring. “You said it was fake.”

“Did I? I must have forgotten.”

Turning your body to face him, you place a hand on his upper thigh. His body stiffens as he clenches his jaw and squeezes his hands tight against the steering wheel. You let out a cough as you shyly pull away. 

“You should have told me. I would have been more careful. Especially since it belongs to your mother.”

“Except it doesn’t anymore.”

Your brows pull in together as your bottom lip starts to wobble. “Did she die?” Taking in your glossy eyes, he shakes his head as he laughs. 

“She’s fine.” He doesn’t say much after that as he pulls into a fancy driveway. Jesus, you squeal. He unclicks your seat belt. “My parents are over for the holidays. They’re taking the painting with them when they leave back to Spain. Come meet them.”

You must be in some sort of trance because you let him take you by your hand as he leads you towards the mansion. You wonder why, but when you remember there’s people still around with the painting, you wrap your fingers tighter against his.

“Perfect. Grazie.” The 29 year old admires as he takes a step back to take in the painting. It was gorgeous. You were starting to get jealous that it belonged to someone else. The group of men share a quick exchange of goodbyes before scurrying out the door. Walking back to you, he taps his shoe against your heel. “What do you think?” You scrunch your nose.

“Meh.”

He spins to face you. “You’re crazy. It’s beautiful.” He looks at you as you stare up at the wall where Doni Tondo hangs. He shudders. Tickling your waist he says, “Admit it. Say you love it.” You shake your head as you giggle. I’ve seen better. He gapes. “Liar!”

“I’m not lying.”

He books it to you as you squeal and try to not trip over your dress as you run away. Grabbing you by the waist, he spins you. Admit it! “No,” you wheeze as you grow dizzy and yet don’t want the moment to end. You pull on his bow that matches with the rest of his expensive tux. “I’m going to throw up if you don’t let go!”

“¿Estamos interrumpiendo?” 

Pushing Carlos off harshly, the ring flies off your finger for the second time that night. You swallow a curse as you look up to an older couple. They smile fondly. Though you haven't met them before, you are able to quickly identify them as the Spaniards parents. Blood rushes to your face. 

“It’s so nice to meet you.” You take a step towards them as you extend your hand. They both shake it as they bring you in for a hug. You let out a small umph. Once they pull away, you pick up the ring from the floor. “I am so sorry about dropping your ring! I know it belongs to you. Carlos told me it was fake and if I had known, then I wouldn’t have flung my hand-”

“Don’t you worry, cariño - it doesn’t belong to me anymore.” Told you, Carlos interrupts. You scowl at him before handing it back to Reyes. She shakes her head as she covers your hands with hers. “Keep it.”

“But that wouldn’t be the right thing to do.” You twirl around as you hand it to Carlos. “Somebody take it, please.” He stares back blankly and you could tell he’s about to say the same thing, but his mother’s words make him take it from you. It’s okay, Carlos. Hesitantly, he obeys. You let out a breath of relief. 

Forcing himself to shake off the bitter feeling, he points up at the painting. “Lo hice. ¿Les gusta?” Reyes and Carlos Sr. nod as they hug each other. Nos encanta. She directs her attention back to you.

“What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful.” 

And it was. It was the true depiction of a family. Carlos frowns. “You said it was okay.” Discreetly, you pinch his hip. He yelps. 

“I was only joking, you should know that.” A beat. “I think it's one of the prettiest paintings I’ve ever laid my eyes on. I’m so jealous that you two get to keep it,” you joke as they laugh. Carlos Sr. wags his finger.

“It’s not ours.” What? You and Carlos slump as you look at each other with as much confusion as shock. The older couple laughs. “It was never going to be ours, but we needed a good enough reason for Carlos to pull the trigger. He’s been talking about this painting for as long as we can remember. Isn’t that right?” Reyes nods.

“I knew that if I said I wanted it then he would get it. Either way, if he didn’t buy it then we would have bought it for him.” She walks up closer to you both. “This painting is not just a pretty sight - it’s also the raw interpretation of love. When two people fall in love, things become so crystal clear that it almost has you wondering if you’ve lost your mind. You start to learn that a family is one of the most important things and what better way than to form that with your other half. Marriage is a sacred thing - and sure, it's scary - but it’s very well worth it. You’ll see.”

Her words make your stomach twist as you catch Carlos’ reaction through your peripheral vision. It sort of looked as if he was having some sort of epiphany as he nodded attentively at his parents. For some odd reason, the image of him starting a family of his own with some random woman makes your head hurt. 

“ A few adjustments may be needed, but I have a feeling this ring will find its way to the right girl. Don’t you think, Carlitos?”

Carlos’ eyes flicker to yours as you look back at him. The connection had always been there, but something felt different. Scarily secure. Neither of you were brave enough to ask if this was something you were both feeling. Not yet, at least.

“I think it will.”

[elliesbelle]

nobody compares to you

chapter 9

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, descriptions of and allusions to physical altercations and violence, descriptions of alcohol, dealer!ellie, more loser!ellie, mentions of smoking and marijuana, ellie's POV, minors do not interact

word count: 3.7k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-if if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

featuring the song “it might be you” by stephen bishop:

Four Days Ago

“Ellie, what the fuck! Oh, shit!”

“The fuck! Th-the fuck…is your problem!”

“Shit! Ellie!”

“Chang, get…this–fuck!–cunt…off of me!”

“El–ow! Ellie!”

“I heard what you fucking said to my girl!”

“What are–shit…motherfucker!”

“Ellie, stop!”

“You..fucking…cunt!”

“Yo, bro, get the fuck off of her!”

“Is that…all…you…can do?!”

“Alright, fuck! Enough! Stop!”

Two Days Ago

Ellie had been walking around campus with her hood over her head and eyes to the ground all day. She’d been ignoring calls & texts from her friends and clients and, to her growing annoyance, Daniela. She’d attended all her classes, but she’d sit as far back as possible and avoid any interactions or eye contact. During her breaks, she’d find some remote spot behind a building or in a secluded stairwell to smoke in private.

It was late afternoon now and Ellie’d just dashed out of her last class of the day. She didn’t want to go home to her apartment where she’d get ambushed by Jesse and, most likely as well, Dina. But she had nowhere else to loiter where she’d be able to sulk and smoke in peace, and her phone was also dying.

The walk to her and Jesse’s apartment was barely ten minutes from campus, but Ellie made sure to stretch it out to almost twenty. She walked four flights of stairs instead of taking the elevator like she usually would. She couldn’t even hear the jingling of her keys over the deafening sounds of Kendrick Lamar blasting in her earphones as she unlocked the front door.

The previous evening felt completely surreal. Ellie would have assumed it was just some rage-induced nightmare if it weren’t for the throbbing pain in her black eye and bruised right hand. After Jesse was able to pry Frat Guy Adam off of her before he could do any real damage and hastily convince him that she was probably tripping off of this strong new strain she got, Ellie immediately shut herself in her bedroom for the rest of the night. The only thing Jesse could get out of her before she disappeared behind her door was, “I seriously can’t fucking believe she’s letting her fuck her again.”

As Ellie crossed the doorway of the apartment, the second verse of “HUMBLE.” was abruptly yanked out of her ears by Dina’s quick fingers.

“Jesus fuck—Dina!” Ellie fussed, irritated as she attempted to grab her earphones back.

Dina said nothing as she balled them up and shoved them into her back pocket.

“How the fuck did you even know I was coming?” Ellie grumbled, knowing full well that she, Dina, and Jesse all indefinitely shared their respective locations with each other on their phones.

“Let’s talk, El.” Dina merely sighed.

Ellie scoffed in response and held out her hand.

“Can I have my earphones back?” She asked.

“No.”

“Seriously?”

“Ellie, we need to talk!”

Ellie didn’t reply as she stomped off towards her bedroom. She was about to slam the door in Dina’s face when she was met with Jesse’s back turned to her with sandpaper in one hand and a paint scraper in the other.

“Uhh, what the fuck, dude?” Ellie asked, dropping her backpack on top of her desk.

“I knew you’d leave your knife in here for the next two months or so if I didn’t do anything about it.” Jesse replied, sanding down the area where the knife once was lodged into the wall.

Dina leaned against the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Told him that you were too attached to that thing to not yank it out yourself, but he insisted on doing it and cleaning up your mess. As per usual.” Dina said, motioning to the small bucket of white plaster by Jesse’s feet.

“Yeah, I’m not cleaning all that up, though.” Jesse said, gesturing to all the dust now covering a portion of the bedroom floor.

Ellie shrugged off her hoodie and hung it on the back of a chair. She spotted her now-unstuck switchblade on top of some books on her desk and quickly pocketed it.

“Okay, well, can you guys maybe get out of my room now?” Ellie huffed, collapsing lazily onto her bed before grabbing a comic book on her bedside table that she had previously been reading the night before.

“We can,” Dina replied. “But we’re not going to.”

Ellie rolled her eyes and flipped a page.

Jesse and Dina shared a collective look and a heavy sigh.

“Dude, we gotta talk about yesterday.” Jesse insisted. “You seriously can’t keep ignoring this.”

“What the fuck even happened, really?” Dina asked.

“What, this one didn’t tell you?” Ellie replied, nodding towards Jesse’s direction without looking up from her comic book.

“All he told me is that you got your shit rocked by some frat guy trying to buy from you.”

“Hey!” Ellie said, sitting up and throwing her hands up in the air in indignation. “I fucked him up!”

“Then why do you have a black eye?” Dina questioned.

Ellie grumbled something unintelligible and sat back down to return to reading. Dina rolled her eyes.

“All I did was introduce him to her and she just suddenly wailed on him.” Jesse explained to Dina.

“I already knew who the fuck he was.” Ellie said behind her comic book.

“Oh shit, yeah,” Jesse recalled. “She did say she remembered him, and then she went nuts.”

“Who was this again?” Dina asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Adam Patterson from Sigma Eta.” Jesse replied.

“Yeah, I have no idea who that is.” Dina admitted.

“He came with our group to the diner the other night after the party,” Jesse said at the same time that Ellie said, “He was at Sterling’s with us.”

Dina’s knitted eyebrows straightened out in recognition.

“Oh, wait, was he that douchebag that sat next to—”

“Yes.” Ellie interrupted angrily.

Jesse and Dina immediately shared a look.

“Does this have anything to do with Abby Anderson?” Dina asked Ellie.

“Wait, what about Anderson?” Jesse questioned, eyebrows furrowing.

“You didn’t tell him?”

“Tell me wh—“ Jesse started but was cut off when his phone started buzzing furiously.

He took out his phone from his back pocket and frowned.

“Ah shit,” He muttered. “I gotta help Sidney set up with the open mic.”

“Now?” Dina asked.

“It’s every other Tuesday and I promised her.” Jesse shrugged.

He walked over to Dina to give her a quick peck on the lips before turning towards Ellie, pointing at her sharply.

“When I get back, I want to hear why the hell you’ve lost your goddamn mind.” He demanded of her before leaving the room. A few seconds passed before they heard the front door close behind him.

Dina sighed, uncrossed her arms, and strolled over to sit at the foot of Ellie’s bed. She unconcernedly shoved Ellie’s dirty Converse to the side, earning her a kick from Ellie which she easily dodged.

“Can you stop assaulting every single person you come across, Williams?” Dina said after slapping the foot that tried to punt her.

“Can you get out of my room?” Ellie asked, ignoring her question.

“Did you really try to beat the shit out of that Adam guy ‘cause of—“

“Why are we still talking about this?” Ellie immediately interjected.

“Because you’re out here attacking innocent people because of her!”

Ellie remained quiet as she sat up straight and placed her comic book back on her nightstand before replying.

“He called her a fucking queer, D.”

Dina blinked and stared at her.

“He did what?”

“When we were at Sterling’s the other night.”

“Oh, shit.” Dina whispered. “Okay, well, maybe not so innocent then.”

“No, he’s fucking not.” Ellie seethed, fists clenching.

“Okay, but it’s not really helping anyone if you get kicked out of school ‘cause you’re out here beating the shit out of some grade-A douchebag who most definitely deserved it,” Dina added, seeing that Ellie was about to interrupt. “Are you really that pissed off that she’s seeing Abby Anderson?”

“She can see whoever the fuck she wants. It’s really none of my business.” Ellie replied stubbornly.

“Ellie, c’mon, when are you going to face your fucking feelings for her for once?” Dina said. “You couldn’t man the fuck up when you were together, and now you don’t even speak to each other and you still won’t admit it.”

“Sorry that I’m too emotionally constipated for you.”

Dina rolled her eyes but then suddenly giggled.

“What?” Ellie asked.

“That’s probably the first time that you haven’t corrected me on the fact that you were together.”

Ellie kicked her softly.

“Oh, shut up.” Ellie retorted.

Yesterday

“You need to wrap that shit up better, El.” Dina said, gesturing to Ellie’s poorly bandaged right hand.

The sun was beginning to set, and Dina and Ellie’s shadows glided alongside each other on the brick pathway. Pink rays of light peeking from the sky hit Ellie’s freckles so beautifully that it almost distracted from her bruised eye.

“What? It’s fine.” Ellie shrugged.

“The wraps are already coming off, dumbass.” Dina noted.

“My bad, I’m not studying to be a doctor, unlike some people.” Ellie said, quickly murmuring the last part.

Dina merely rolled her eyes at this, refusing to engage further in Ellie’s growing vendetta against Abby Anderson.

They walked for about another ten minutes to reach the diner, chatting nonsensically about their classes and friends and some new asshole clients that Ellie had recently acquired.

Ellie had Dina laughing about her secretly charging some senior jock douchebags twice as much as usual for shamelessly hitting on her when they walked through the doors of Sterling’s. Ellie suddenly felt a strange ache in her stomach as they entered the restaurant. When she felt wary eyes on her, her discomfort was immediately explained.

Her gaze unintentionally met yours, her ocean green eyes widening in shock. The expression on your face mirrored her thoughts as her freckles turned bright pink. You both turned to your friends simultaneously in panic.

“Dina, what the fuck!” Ellie hissed.

“What?” Dina said, not realizing the situation they’d walked into.

“Did you do this shit on purpose?” Ellie demanded of her.

“What the hell are you going on about?” Dina asked, still clueless as she was busy looking around for the diner’s hostess.

“Can you please use your eyes for one second?”

“Wh—” Dina began but stopped suddenly when she saw what had caught Ellie’s rapt attention.

“Goddamn it,” Dina muttered. “Alright, hang on.”

Ellie watched as Dina marched over to the small table where you and Jesse were having dinner. Her eyes fell on you once more, remembering the last time she saw you with Abby Anderson. She suddenly felt a pang of guilt wash over her when she thought about the last conversation you’d had in the bathroom of this same diner, her eyes tearing away from your figure to stare at her old Converse.

God, I’m such a fucking dickhead.

She teetered back and forth on her feet as she felt shame seeping through her bones. She didn’t look back up until the diner’s hostess approached her.

“Hi, how many in your party?” She asked.

“Oh, uh, no. I’m here for pick-up?” Ellie replied.

“Oh gotcha, what’s the name?”

“It should be under Dina Woodward.”

“Okay! One second, ma’am.”

Ellie watched as the hostess headed to the back as Dina made her way back towards her.

“What the hell, D?” Ellie hissed.

“Seriously, I didn’t know!” Dina replied, throwing her hands up defensively.

“This isn’t funny!”

“El, I swear to god, I really had no idea they were gonna be meeting here.”

“You didn’t tell me that Jesse was hanging out with her tonight!”

“That didn’t seem like information relevant to you.” Dina said, crossing her arms.

“How is it not—”

“She’s not your fucking girlfriend, Ellie.” Dina pointed out.

Ellie looked taken aback as the hostess reappeared before them.

“Order for Dina Woodward?” She said, holding out a plastic bag.

“Yes?” Dina replied, but before she could reach for the food, Ellie had already grabbed it with her left hand and angrily shoved the entrance door open with her right.

She stomped away from the diner several feet away before Dina could catch up to her, far away enough for Dina not to catch the tears that she struggled to keep from falling.

Present Day

Ellie lays on her sheets, head at the foot of her bed and dinosaur sock-covered feet propped up on one of her pillows. She was senselessly and poorly strumming on her guitar. It was Friday evening and she was bored and all alone in the apartment, Jesse and Dina having gone out together on a movie date. She had contemplated going to the gym as she usually did whenever she was in a mood, but Dina had reprimanded her about her injured state enough that Ellie relented on spending a lonely night in. She strums lousily on the guitar with her injured hand, ignoring the throbbing of her wounded knuckles.

She’d finally texted Daniela back earlier that day, apologizing spiritlessly for not replying back sooner. She humoured Daniela’s flirty texts for a while until Ellie asked for Joel’s old jacket back, to which Daniela offered to come over to her apartment tonight to return. Feeling her intent, Ellie put her off by saying she had plans to meet up with several new clients all night and offered to meet up with her the next day instead. Ellie’d groaned when Daniela quickly responded with a text saying “it’s a date ;)” and immediately regretted the situation she’d pulled herself into.

Her fingers begin mindlessly plucking a succession of concordant chords, and it isn’t until a few moments later that she realizes she’d started to play an old love song that she remembers you’d liked so much.

It was an old 80s song called “It Might Be You” by Stephen Bishop. She’d often hear you thoughtlessly humming it to yourself or singing along to it when you’d put on your nearly ten-hour 80s playlist. She’d subsequently learned how to play it on the guitar to possibly serenade you with it eventually, only to never have the courage to do so when you were together.

Ellie exhales woefully, setting her guitar down next to her.

Why is she still everywhere?

She sits up to properly lay herself on her bed, flopping her head down onto her pillow before reaching for her phone that was charging on her nightstand.

Time to be a loser as usual again, Williams.

She sighs pathetically as she opens up Instagram once more, switching from her main account back over to br!ck_master2013. Even though Instagram already showed her recent searches (consisting only of you), she feels a pathetic sense of fulfillment typing out your entire username herself. Ellie taps on that same mirror selfie of yours which leads her to your profile.

You still have no new posts from the last time she checked, but she sees that you’d added something to your story sometime within the past day. She ignores the uneasiness in her stomach as she taps on the orange and purple circle to view what you’d posted.

You’d shared a few mutual aid posts earlier this morning (to which Ellie promptly saves to later donate to after her slight stalking), a picture that some of your old high school friends had posted of an up-and-coming band they were currently in, and a couple of new stories that causes Ellie to abruptly shoot up from her bed and promptly unplugging her phone from the wall.

“What the fuck?” She mutters out loud to herself, not in reference to the unceremonious way she stopped charging her phone, but to the Instagram stories that you were posting in real time.

Ellie taps furiously as she realizes that you were out tonight at the lesbian bar by campus, the Bow and Arrow. With Abby Anderson.

She makes a wild guess that you were likely drunk at the moment, judging by the silliness of your story captions. Your first bar-related story is a selfie you’d taken of yourself with the caption, “me going out to a bar to get smacked instead of being an old lady at home? quick, someone call the pope.” Despite the low lights of your environment, Ellie recognizes the shade of dark red lipstick you’re wearing.

That’s the lipstick she was wearing when—

Her thoughts are interrupted by her app automatically jumping to the next story, which was of you toasting your half-empty plastic cup with others that were being held up by faceless hands with the caption, “liquor, i hardly know her.” Ellie couldn’t help but chuckle out loud at your stupid joke. She would have bet her Jeep, her whole stash of weed, her beloved switchblade, and her entire precious comic book collection that the drink you had in your hand was a vodka cranberry.

Your next Instagram story drops a cast steel anvil down Ellie’s stomach.

It was a shaky picture of Abby Anderson making a mockingly pouty face towards the camera, holding out a credit card in one of her hands. It looked as if she and you were sitting at the bar, waiting to be served by a bartender. Your caption read, “hey siri, how do you beat up a buff, jacked lesbian who lives at the gym and won’t stop paying for your drinks all night.”

Ellie notices that you’d tagged Abby’s Instagram handle on the side and she promptly taps on it with trembling fingers. She huffs at her phone when she’s brought to Abby’s profile and sees that it’s set to private. She falls back onto her pillow and sighs.

“Ellie!!” You yelled after her as she stomped out of the Bow and Arrow.

She said nothing as she exited the bar and veered left into an empty backstreet lit only by the moonlight and a dim streetlamp.

Ellie walked further into the alleyway until she was a safe distance from any passersby. She took out a metal tin from one of her jacket’s front pockets and pulled out a tightly-wrapped joint. She tucked it between her teeth as she reached into a front pocket in her jeans for a lighter, promptly lighting the tip of the joint. She inhaled for a few seconds, letting the drug seep throughout her enraged body, then released an exhale towards the starry night sky.

She heard the agitated clicking of high heels and glanced down towards the main street to inspect whoever was approaching her. You were rubbing your hands up and down your arms, your favourite black boots nearly skipping down the alleyway to desperately generate heat in the frigid, unforgiving December air. You followed the familiar scent of lavender-laced marijuana into the dark street, spotting Ellie smoking alone.

Ellie watched as your shivering figure walked towards her, your despondent eyes eventually reaching her furious green ones.

“Smoking one of my js without me?” You teased.

“Your js?” Ellie asked, chuckling despite herself.

“Well, it’s my recipe.” You said, yanking the joint from her fingertips to place it between your lips which were painted with a dark shade of red.

“Oh, please, all you do is add buds of crushed lavender into them.” Ellie scoffed as the tip of the joint lit up once more from you taking a hit of it.

“Lavender buds are a key ingredient to creating these primo joints. It’s an intricate part of the process; ergo it is a recipe.” You insisted after blowing the residual smoke to the side.

“Besides,” You added. “You talk a whole lot of smack for someone who seems to copy my recipe all the time now, both for her clients and for herself.”

Ellie would have usually bantered with a witty retort, but she instead settled for an indignant huff.

After a few more hits, you handed the joint back to her.

“You done?” She asked you.

“Mhmm.”

She nodded, putting out the joint on the wall she was leaning against and placing what was left of it back in her metal tin. You stared at her as she did this, noticing that she was purposely refusing to make eye contact with you.

“Els.” You said.

“Mm?”

“Show me your hand.” You sigh.

“No.”

“El, babe, come on.” You insisted.

She exhaled and relented when her cheeks blushed at the term of endearment, holding out her right hand to you.

You took it in between both of yours, attempting to examine it under the dull yellowish light of the streetlamp. Your fingertips softly brush against her knuckles.

“Okay, not so bruised thankfully.” You murmured. “Does it hurt?”

Ellie merely shrugged in response.

“Els…” You whined at her stubbornness.

“I’m fine.”

You stared at her serious expression, still unable to get her to look at you.

“You dummy.” You chuckled lightly.

Ellie huffed.

You stroked her hand a couple more times before lightly placing a kiss on her slightly injured knuckles.

Despite the frigid winter air, Ellie immediately felt every part of her go up in flames. The only chilly part of her body was her hand which you’d brushed your cold lips against just moments before.

“Here,” She said, pulling her hand away from you so she could shrug off Joel’s old motorcycle jacket from her shoulders and place it on yours. “Baby, you’re fucking freezing.”

“El—”

“You’re freezing.” She repeated.

You smiled slightly before caving in to say, “Maybe a little bit.” Ellie chuckled.

“Elliie…” You began. “You didn’t have to do all that—”

“I know.”

“But—”

“I know.”

You tried to decipher her unreadable expression, your heart ready to burst as it beat rapidly in your chest.

“Why, Ellie? Why’d you have to take it to that extreme?”

Ellie’s ocean-green eyes were fierce and resolved. She brings her mildly bruised hand up to your face to intimately caress your cheek.

“You know why.” She whispers, finally meeting your gaze.

“I—”

The memory of staring into your eyes causes Ellie’s own to shoot open.

She’s still in her room, laying on her bed all alone with her phone on her chest and guitar on her side. The images of you in the alleyway of the Bow and Arrow replay alongside those of you and Abby so boldly displayed on your Instagram story tonight.

Ellie remains so engrossed in her own thoughts that she doesn’t notice all the hot tears rapidly streaming down her face. She grips her sheets and sighs.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” She whispers to no one.

Maybe she’ll forgive me one day.

author’s notes:

so sorry for taking so long to write this! life has been hectic and messy lately, plus y’all know i’m a bit insecure about writing ellie.

thank me by liking and reblogging this because tumblr is acting tf up on my laptop and i had to do the majority of this on my phone

adam's name originally was a reference to a background character in tlou2, but his last name is loosely inspired by some asshole dude i dated once back in college named adam (who i kind of also home-wrecked but i really don't regret doing so lol)

anyway, while you’re here, go check out the new smau series i’m working on called “almost like we knew” ♡︎

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @elliesinterlude, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, @valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn

@uraesthete, @softbunlvr, @cherriesxinthespring, @amitycat, @thefishymissy, @yevheniiaaaa, @machetegirl109, @bertandfearnie, @ximtiredx, @efam

@elliesnumber1gf, @digit4lslut, @tayyyystan, @emothurman, @livvy-2000, @abigaillovestoread, @gold-dustwomxn, @liabadoobee, @yuckyfucky, @qtefolleunpez

@libr4sonsa, @17luv, @robinismywifee, @villainousbear, @ashlynnnnnnnn15, @scarlettadore, @vianna99, @g0n3girls, @totheblood, @embermdk

@awyunh, @kenz-ee, @marvelwomen-simp, @eleactric, @simpforellie, @omgidksblog, @anxiouso, @nyrastar, @lillysbigwilly, @hopeless-y

@elliesbabygirl, @alexpritch, @thestarsanctuary, @aethelwyneleigh27, @cass00x, @liabadoobee, @mulan-but-gay, @carmellie, @destielcore, @tfuuka

@elliewilliamsmissingfingerss, @sagestuffing, @ewwitsbella, @igoferalforelliewilliams, @miaelliesgfxoxo, @saturnvalentine, @elysiagyaru, @asteroidzzzn, @gay4jinx, @97cityy

@joliettes, @p1llowthoughtss, @ellieslegalwife

[cultofdixon]

In a past life it was yours, the present is mine

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • At the line up it was revealed your family history, in the future it won’t be used against you, but for now? You have to change the problem from the inside out or all those you love will perish • ANGST/SFW • TW: Past Mental Abuse / PTSD / Trauma / Anxiety / Canon Violence / Depression • Canon re-written

Requested by: Anon

“Well, let’s meet the man shall we?” The right hand to the mystery man says with a smirk as he approaches the RV.

The archer turns to his other half seeing her keep a calm exterior even if the inner feelings spilled in tears.

I’ll always keep you safe Y/N Daryl mouths to her watching her nod smiling through the tears as both of their attention snapped back to what’s in front of them.

As the tension grew in the woods and the creek of the RV door opens followed by whistling that drove chills down their backs. The man stepped out and instantly locked eyes with the archer’s partner, standing there for too long as neither of them said a word. Until a smirk brought itself on his face as he grabs his right hand by the collar pulling him close to tell him something.

Then you know the rest…

As Negan drags Rick into the RV after killing two of their own. Abraham and Glenn. The right hand that is named Simon approaches the group as the vehicle disappears.

“Take the girl” Simon states watching two saviors come up behind Y/N grabbing her by the arms. “Take the hits and scratches, guys. She’s just a little thing anyway”

“Wait WAIT!” Maggie yells watching her friend getting taken as Daryl tried rising to his feet again when Dwight hit him in the back of the head with the blunt end of his crossbow.

Y/N froze watching such as it made it easier to drag her body to one of the trucks. The bigger man out of the two practically tossed her into the back of the van and was immediately pistol whipped by Simon.

“Best I do somethin’ before boss man puts a bullet in your head” Simon scoffs shutting the doors after pushing the guy of the way. “Take her back to the Sanctuary. She don’t need to see what else the man’s gotta do”

And with that the van left, leaving the group confused…Maggie hurt even further and Daryl livid. They didn’t understand why Negan ordered such to happen. Hell they don’t even know when that was ordered. His hushed side conversations were so short because he had other business to attend to.

How…how could he

How could he do this

To me

The drive was long, at least it felt like such. Y/N didn’t know where she was going or who else she would be dealing with but during the unknown period she simply cried. Cried over her deceased family and over the fear of losing the man she loves.

Soon the doors to the back opened and no one was forcing her out of the vehicle until a blond woman came. She grabbed Y/N by the arm and let the girl scratch at her or try to pull away but the grip she had on her? Good luck.

“Where are you taking me?!”

Nothing

“I demand to know!”

Again, nothing

“What is he going to do to my family?!” Y/N snaps before getting shoved in a room as the woman stood at the door a second.

“Family? This is your family, dollface” and the door shut, locking from the other side.

Y/N immediately went toward the door and started pounding against it, screaming out for anyone to let her out. Then she started to look for something to pick the lock with but as she searched the room she was in…it took a second to realize it was a room and not a cell. She decided to look around in hopes she’d find something to help her escape.

Instead she was met with her past.

How come yea never talk about your old life?

I told you a lot. What specifically?

Everybody’s got a family. You never said anythin’ bout that

Guess I’m just. Never ready to talk about it

I don’t think I’ll ever be, even now Y/N frowns holding a picture frame in her hands and the sound of keys jingling startled her to grab something heavy.

When the door opened and Negan stepped through, he quickly dodged the jar of pickles Y/N had grabbed as it hit one of his saviors behind him instead of him.

“Still got a hell of a throw”

Nothing

“How long have yea been with these people?” Negan asks watching her tense and retract at every step he took, inevitably stopping. “You have no idea how long I’ve been lookin’ for you” he snapped for one of his own to close the door to give them more privacy as Y/N immediately shoved him away.

“Why”

“Listen—-“

“WHY!” She yelled loud enough for those standing outside the door, even if the walls were thick. “WHY DID YOU BECOME THIS MONSTER?!”

“Princess, please—-“

“No! You killed my best friend. You don’t get to ‘princess’ me, dad. You took me away from my family…you killed those of MY FAMILY”

“IM YOUR FUCKING FAMILY” Negan finally yells back in her face watching her cower, making him step back taking in the sight to memory. “I’m your blood. You’re my daughter and my family. At least what’s left of it”

“I was your bastard child when you were a teenager…you only cared cuz I got stuck in your care. Then you met Lucille and I was already out of the house…you cut the line there. You moved on but even then…you still went back to your old ways.” Y/N frowns feeling the tears roll off her cheeks. “Now you’re just worse. A monster that put the woman you loved’s name on a bat that killed those important to me…where do you get off”

Before Negan could say another word, Dwight opened the door abruptly which was a big no-no on his part.

“Hey we got Daryl in one of the cells. What’s the next—-“

“What? WHAT” Y/N pushed Negan out of the way as he quickly grabbed at her arm only for her to pull with all her force. He tightened too hard that he heard a crack and instantly let go resulting in her shoving Dwight over like it was nothing and going through the halls.

No one was touching her

Or at least weren’t allowed to intervene

Unless she tried to escape…or help someone escape.

The banging on his cell door gave his position away as Y/N was stopped by the brute guarding his door. But she had about enough in the moment.

“Move out of my way”

“I can’t do that princess”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Or Wha—-“ He was instantly cut off by her leg swung right in between the legs hitting the family jewels hard enough for him to drop. Giving her a window to go for his knife and threaten to cut his throat open the second those chasing her approached.

“Jesus Christ. This is your blood?” Dwight scoffs stepping back every second their eyes locked.

“She’s definitely Negan’s daughter” Laura laughs at the sight watching Negan step closer not giving a single fuck if Y/N took the man’s life.

“It’s best to let him go. Wouldn’t want to be like me right?”

Y/N felt instant regret for her actions after he said such. She slowly released the knife as the guy quickly pulls away bringing himself behind Negan.

The man stood there for a while staring down at his child while his people stand behind him in fear of both Smiths. Then a pain brought itself in his chest watching her cower when he tried to simply step forward and help her up.

A small child took her place sitting there on the floor as he stood before her in his early twenties with a suitcase in one hand and a ticket in the other.

The two locked eyes and he turned around closing the door behind him. Never turning back.

“You get five minutes. But I’m not letting either of you go” Negan frowns opening the door to Daryl cell as he was about to fight whoever opened it when he saw Y/N and Negan on the other side.

The two were soon closed in the cell for privacy with a lantern for the light. Y/N frowns looking at Daryl after just telling him about who her father is and why she hasn’t told him or anybody. It’s not like she knew about his dictatorship in the old world, just knew the man as someone who wanted nothing to do with her as a child and when she became an adult he had already moved on.

“He…we gotta get out of this shithole”

“I don’t think that could happen without a window…or a bullet in one of us”

“From how he wanted yea at the line up, doubt he’d hurt yea”

“I’m not going to let him hurt you” Y/N frowns bringing herself close expecting Daryl to reject her after finding out of her bloodline.

But the archer carefully took her face into his hands wiping away the tears that suddenly sprung from her waterline.

“He may not hurt yea sunshine, but he can still break you”

Before another word could be shared, the door sprung open and Y/N was suddenly grabbed pulling her out of the cell as Daryl tried to use that as a window but was met with his own crossbow aimed at him.

“Don’t you fucking dare hurt him” Y/N thrashed against the grasp two saviors had on her as they lessen their grip when Negan glared at them. “You lay a hand on him and I will make you fucking regret taking me too”

Negan glared at his daughter before turning back to the archer and his people keep him in. He shoved Dwight back before shutting the door and locking Daryl in there. No more words were exchanged but all he did was grab Y/N by the bicep leading her to the rooms and locking her in a new one.

________

“How come yea never talked about your family?” Daryl frowns joining Y/N on the porch of their new home. “Ever since we got here you’ve been extra quiet so I’m just assumin’ what the subject matter is”

“I just. Never experienced this niceness before. Like when y’all found me in the woods outside the prison? I had just gotten lost after seeing where my dad had lived all my life without me”

The sadness grew in his expression as he noticed hers barely shift, she’s accepted it a long time ago…but the pain will always be there.

“He had me as a teenager and my mom just gave me to him then fucked off. So he struggled for four years with the help of grandma, then one day I was seated on the carpet watching him pick up a suitcase and walk out the door.” Y/N frowns hugging herself as she kept her gaze to the floor. “It’s a mess of a story. Raised by my grandma, left at 18, heard years later he remarried and didn’t care about my existence further, his wife found out about me and met me in private…then the outbreak happened later and I went to see if they were alive because I had their address for the longest time…and all there was was a house in ruins”

“I’m sorry, sunshine”

“If he’s…still out there and our paths cross…I don’t think I’d want to be on this rock anymore”

________

Daryl kept banging on his cell door for what felt like days. Granted…it was. To be real with what’s going on in Daryl’s mind, he thought he would be beaten to a pulp at this point. Or put through even worse, mental abuse of some kind.

They’ve been treating him well?

His wound

Keeping him fed

He doesn’t quite understand it until Dwight opened the cell one night to give him a sandwich and decided to talk.

“Your woman almost ripped me a new one when I tried to feed yea dog food. She’s takin’ everything like a champ though…with a dad like that.” Dwight laughs. “Everything I had of yours, she almost killed me for. But daddy will do anythin’ to get her to smile. Even if she cries most nights”

“Why the fuck are you telling me this”

“You ain’t dead because she’s doing everything Negan asks of her. Her reward? We don’t hurt you” Dwight states before making his leave and shutting the door forcefully behind him.

Y/N laid in the bed given to her, in the room made just for her. She kept staring at the ceiling dressed in a black dress that someone pointed out was made for pointing out Negan’s wives. But that was shot down by Simon who was assigned to keep her at the Sanctuary and to be honest? Neither of them were happy about it.

“Yo! Princess, boss man wants yea” Simon knocks on the door as Y/N sighs bringing herself to the edge of her bed slipping her boots on before leaving the room.

The two walked to the conference like room and found a head on the table, an anxious Dwight, and an angry Negan.

“Good luck princess” Simon whispers to Y/N, leaving the room laughing.

The annoyance on her face grew, but immediately changed to anger and worry.

“Daryl escaped” Negan snapped the second he locked eyes with his kid. “Who did it.”

“I’ve been with you and in my room almost every hour of every day. Your GOON here doesn’t let me anywhere near Daryl’s fucking cell. Even when he’s not on watch” Y/N gave back the same energy her dad was producing. “You’re always so controlling of everyone around here but what happens when your eyes aren’t glued on your fucking prisoner. He escapes on his GODDAMN OWN”

In a split second, with no thinking before actions made, Negan grabbed her by the throat and forced her against the wall as the thud echoed in the room but the alarming sound was the crack that came from her skull when she made contact. Tears instantly started to stream down her cheeks as she held onto his wrist feeling his grip loosen while her eyes slowly fluttered open after the impact made them shut tight.

Daddy please don’t go

The leader of the saviors suddenly pulled away making her drop to her knees as she instantly pressed her hand to the back of her head noticing the blood on her hand when she retracted.

“You’re just…the same fucking monster…I’ve always known” Y/N sobbed through broken words as Negan towered her unable to move or breathe for the matter. Dwight looked at him a bit confused but a wave of concern came over him as he brought himself to Y/N not caring if she protested.

“Come on. We’ve got a doc” Dwight helped her to her feet directing her out of the room, glancing back to see Negan in his frozen state.

“Daddy please don’t go” The four year old cried hugging onto her father’s leg as Negan drags her agaisnt the carpet before forcefully shaking his leg to get her to fall on her butt.

The tears broke out as she sat on the carpet right in front of the main door.

“I…I can’t do this” Negan frowns picking up his suitcase after slipping on his jacket. “I never should’ve had you”

The pout that grew on the little one’s face as the tears streamed down her cheeks while no more sound escaped her.

“I never should’ve left you…” Negan whispers to himself while his own tears rolled off his cheeks.

It’s been days with nothing going on…nothing…not even a visit from his saviors to communities they have under their thumbs. If you were new to one? You wouldn’t be able to tell they were controlled by someone unless somebody told you. But even then, they didn’t collect every other week. Didn’t threaten anymore people.

Nothing happened. Then the radio gave off receiving static.

“Rick. We gotta talk”

Rick looks at his radio with concern before looking across the table at his partner as Michonne shared the same concern but was also littered with confusion and doubt. This could be a trap of some sorts.

While Negan may have done nothing. The group had gotten to work on lessen the Savior population (once Daryl returned) by attacking more outposts with the help of the Kingdom, the Hilltop, and few Oceanside…it was top priority while certain few wanted to get their person back.

“He could’ve killed her by now” Daryl frowns sitting with Maggie on the steps of the Barrington House as they all decided it be smart for him to stay there in case if they did look for him.

“She’s his daughter. He wanted her, I doubt he would’ve killed her…but something still could’ve happened” Maggie didn’t mean to plant anything in Daryl’s mind, granted he was already thinking of such, but it was overwhelming. When Daryl returned and Negan’s first visit to Alexandria, everyone Y/N was close to found out that she’s Negan’s daughter. It brought a lot of mix feelings but even with certain negative ones, everyone collectively agreed they wanted to get her back safely.

“Daryl…you think that Rick would hurt her?”

“What.” Daryl says sternly noticing how calm and collected Maggie presented herself after saying such.

“From what you’ve told me, Y/N and her father are estranged. He didn’t raise her. She’s nothing like him. It’s just…instead of running with fear, Rick is turning back to that scary version of himself when we first came to Alexandria.” Maggie frowns her finger tips gently brushing her barely showing pregnant belly. “I’m afraid of him hurting her indirectly. To be fair…when I found out, I wanted to do exactly that. But then I remember she’s this outgoing person who’s super smart and an amazing listener to every single concern a person may have…she doesn’t even have to know you long to care so deeply about you…she’s nothing like this monster but he will hurt her and Rick will break some part of her”

While all of such happened, the Sanctuary sort of collapsed within itself once Negan disappeared. He just left without a word and Simon tried taking his place but then the people that Negan tortured under his boot for so long, started to fight back finally. Y/N watched it all unfold while packing up her stuff and planning her route out but it came clear to those die hard followers that she’s something that can bring him back.

Which he was planning to do while he stood in the old outpost, the first one the group attacked that led to their deaths. Negan sighed when Rick didn’t immediately come into view but once he did, he wasn’t alone. He didn’t have the whole group or those who’ve lost their partners. All he needed was Michonne and his son Carl. Knowing they’d keep him centered.

“If this is a trap, the others know to come rain hellfire on—-“

“The Sanctuary is currently imploding. None of’em like Simon and won’t follow him. Whatever you want to do to me, I’ll let yea do. As long as you don’t punish her for my actions”

Carl’s expression softened hearing such as he didn’t think about that. His dad was just mad and terrified of what else could happen since Negan hasn’t done anything to them. Little do they know the shit he’s been putting his kid through mentally, and the few times physically that one would think she endured it all for her family.

“Dad. This seems…like the truth, but we still need to be careful”

“You should listen to the kid.” Negan states only for Rick to take that moment and right hook him making him stumble a bit as Michonne quickly pulled Rick back knowing he was about to do more. “I deserved that”

“You deserve a whole lot worse”

“And I’m telling you…” The man straightens himself up brushing the blood from his busted lip on the back of his hand. “Do whatever you want to me”

Before Rick could get to say his response, Carl stepped in front of him to physically cut him off.

“Why? Why are you rolling over on your back now? After you killed Glenn…killed Abraham…killed all those people just to gain superiority but we just…” Carl couldn’t connect the dots, even if they were right there, guess part of him wanted him to say it.

“I hurt her.” Negan stated watching all of them tense. “I hurt my daughter. I tried so hard to get some fuckin’ relationship back after what I’ve done in the past. But the present was never mine. Then I really hurt her…for something someone else did, and I could’ve killed her…I’ll do whatever yea want me to do, and let you do whatever you want to me…for her promised safety”

________

Daryl sat on the porch checking his bike after they had gotten it back from the outpost. He felt her presence and felt it when Y/N brought her arms around his waist.

“You alright?”

“You know, whatever happens with whatever comes next…I’d always choose you”

The archer brought himself to turn toward her so he could wrap his arms around her kissing the top of her head whispering again asking if she was okay. She was.

________

She will always want to be in his arms.

Y/N stood outside the Sanctuary or what it used to be as people left…communities took people in, die hard followers were skeptical but given a second chance, Simon ran off, and she stayed at the place that kept her mentally beaten. But with her father, the Grimes (minus Jude), Daryl, Maggie, the king Ezekiel, Cyndie from Oceanside, and those who wanted to witness Negan get punished.

People wanted him dead. Rick wanted him to rot. So a bit of both happened. Y/N watched Rick put all his anger out on Negan and every punch made her flinch. She felt the tears come but no sound escaped her. Maggie brought herself to the other side of her friend while Daryl was on the other. She carefully took her hand into hers feeling her squeeze.

He’s a monster. He did all this horrible things and even with a good like…getting rid of it all…the pain was still there but so was the child from before the hell.

Michonne grabbed Rick’s shoulder when she thought Negan had enough but she also had enough of her friend watching her partner beat up her father.

“Patch’em up” Rick scoffs turning away from Y/N knowing if he looked at her, the regret will build. The new doc that his son found on a walk in the woods, Siddiq, took care of patching up Negan while Gabriel and Aaron tied him up taking him back to the cell that Morgan had made.

It was late in the night when Daryl felt the emptiness beside him and decided to get up looking for his partner who simply sat on the steps leading to the main floor. Her tired eyes said it all as he wished she had woken him to the nightmare she endured alone. He brought himself to sit beside Y/N as she flinched when he tried to check the bandage that was on the back of her head. The doc at the Sanctuary had to shave a part to get stitches in there after…yknow.

“Does it still hurt?”

“Yeah…”

“No…I mean, does it still hurt” Daryl frowns watching her tears build up as she continued to hug her knees to her chest hiding her face feeling him bring his arm around her. “You should’ve never had to deal with that shit, and shouldn’t have seen what happen”

“I couldn’t…let him hurt you or my family…I just…the words won’t come out clear in my mind…I just couldn’t lose anymore”

Daryl watched her unravel as he didn’t let her go bringing her into his embrace and into his lap. Holding her desperately close as Y/N latched onto his person afraid they’d fall apart if she let go.

________

“You can have everythin’ and you still choose him?”

Y/N frowns looking at her father after she was forced to put on the outfit given to her. She looks around at the room surrounding her before locking eyes with the man that helped bring her into this world.

“He fixed what you broke” She states crossing her arms and holding her ground. “He didn’t have to, hell I did my best to keep my past to myself. But he loves me, protects me, makes me feel wanted…”

Negan wanted to speak but watched her hold her hand up to shut him up.

“I will always choose Daryl Dixon, over every man on this god forsaken planet”

[bingbongsupremacy]

My Little Secret

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Warnings: Teenage pregnancy, use of Y/N

Summary: You're scared to tell Eddie you're pregnant.

*Not Proof Read*

Note: Eddie and reader are the same age. Pretend he wasn't held back. Whole thing with Chrissy hasn't happened. Doesn't specify gender.

Stranger Things Masterlist

*****

Well this is perfect.

I stare down at the little while bar in my hands. Two thin likes stare back, mocking my mixed emotions.

What the fuck am I going to do? I shouldn't have let things go so far at Steve's party. I knew the fucking risk. How could this happen? I didn't think this would happen. What am I going to do?

What am I going to tell Eddie?

He doesn't want a kid...not now anyway. Fuck, this messes up everything. We can't afford a baby. How are we going to take care of it?

I begin to pace in the cramped bathroom. With every moment that passes, the room begins to feel more and more cramped, claustrophobic.

A thumping sound bounces off the walls from outside. Eddie's home.

Eddie's van shuts off with one last whine, the door shutting shortly after. I hear the keys jingle as he tries to open the front door of his trailer. " Babe? Ya here? "

I don't respond. I quickly grab the box the pregnancy came in and hide it at the bottom of the garbage can. I need to figure something out. I can't tell Eddie.

A knock breaks me out of my thoughts. I turn on the water, quickly washing my hands, hoping to relieve some of the nerves.

" Y/N? Why didn't you answer, babe. I thought you were still at work or something. " Eddie asks. " You feelin' okay? "

I swing open the door, pulling a smile onto my face. " Yeah, perfect. Just...lost in thought. " I push past Eddie, doing my best to act normal.

I'll figure this out. I have to.

Eddie raises an eyebrow, not completely believing me. " Okay...Do you want to watch a movie? I can order a pizza. " He offers, trailing after me.

I walk around the counter, picking my worn jacket and backpack up. " I actually, have to head out. My mom um needs help with the yard. " I lie.

A look of confusion flashes on Eddie's face. " Oh, okay...maybe another time? "

I nod stiffly. " Of course, Eds. You know how much I love our movie nights. "

I head towards the door.

" Do you want a ride? It's getting a little cold out. " Eddie offers, pulling on his jacket.

I shake my head. " I'm fine. A little fresh air never hurt anyone. " I attempt to joke.

I just need to get out of here. I feel like I'm suffocating.

Eddie looks unsure. " Are you sure? I really don't mind driving you. I don't want you to get hurt. "

" Eddie, I'm fine. " I insist. " It's only a few blocks away. Nothing is going to happen to me. "

Eddie follows me to the door. " Okay, okay. Just...call me when you get home, yeah? Just so I feel better. "

" Of course. " I pat his arm instead of our usual goodbye kiss. I don't hesitate to step outside. The chilly wind sends a shiver through my body, but I quickly ignore it. I need some time to think. I can't do that if Eddie's talking to me the entire ride home. Plus he'll see my mom's not home.

I feel Eddie's gaze follow me down the street, obviously worried about me. As soon as I turn the corner I feel a sigh of relief escape my lips.

I will be okay. I have to be.

______

I've been avoiding Eddie. I feel like he knows. Like he can read me. He hasn't said anything, but the more I'm with him the more tempted I am to tell him. I'm scared. I don't know how to do this. I haven't even told my mom.

Fuck, she'd kill me. She's warned me about this ever since I started dating Eddie years ago. Why didn't I listen?

All it takes is one time, she'd insist. One time.

She'd never let me forget this. I can already see the look of disappointment on her face. She already doesn't like Eddie. Knowing he's the father would definitely make things worse.

" Okay, what's going on with you. "

Eddie's voice asks sternly as he slides into an empty chair next to me.

The library is empty except for the older librarian shelving books in the corner. Everyone's gone home for the day, leaving the room absolutely quiet.

I raise my eyes to meet Eddie's concerned ones. " What? " I ask in surprise, not expecting him to be here. I thought he had a meeting right now.

" Why have you been avoiding me? " He asks. Desperation peaks through his steady voice. " What did I do? " He reaches to grab my pencil clad hand.

I tense slightly. " Nothing. You didn't do anything, Eddie. " I mutter, looking down at my science home work.

" Then why won't you look at me? You've blown me off all week, what's going on? Please, just tell me what I did and how I can fix it. I miss you. " His tone is genuine. Worry is laced through his features.

I clench my jaw, sadness clustering in my throat. " Eddie, I swear, you didn't do anything wrong. I've just been...busy. I have a lot of tests coming up. " Not a lie. The amount of tests this week on top of the news of the baby has been stressing me out. I hardly have time to sleep, I spend most of my time studying and stressing over what to do.

Eddie scans my face for a sign of a lie. " Look, I don't think I believe that's all. When you're ready to talk about it, you know where to find me. " Eddie pulls his hand away from mine, the warmth of his skin quickly being replaced by the the cold air. He stands up, ready to leave.

" Eddie..." I start, unsure what to say.

Eddie turns back to me, hope in his eyes. He waits for me to say something.

I don't.

" I'm sorry. " I whisper.

Eddie nods, turning back around. " I'm sorry too. For whatever I did. " With that he leaves. His steady footsteps disappear into the hallway. His expression burns into my mind. Sadness, slight frustration.

I didn't mean to make him feel this way. I just don't know what to do.

With a sigh I glance down at my stomach. I haven't begun to show yet, thankfully. I have no idea what I'm going to do when I start. I can only wear baggy clothing for so long. It's getting harder and harder to hide the morning sickness. With only one bathroom, my mom's bound to find out sometime.

I'm so scared.

______

A loud knock pulls me from the laundry. I leave my spot on the couch. Rain pounds on the front glass windows, blocking my view from outside.

Who the hell would be out here in weather like this?

I open the door, fully ready to tell the person to fuck off.

I'm met with the sight of a drenched Eddie. His eyebrows twisted in anger and frustration. He's soaked from head to door, water pooling at the bottom of his sneakers. In his hand is a familiar pink box, bold lettering smudged from the water.

The test.

" I can explain- " I begin, my heart pounding in fear.

He found it.

" Why the hell didn't you tell me. " Eddie cuts me off, his fist tightly around the now squished box. Water's soaked through the thin cardboard, turning it to near mush. He pushes past me, into the quiet house.

" Eddie...I...I'm so sorry. " Tears sting the back of my eyes. " I...I don't know what to say. "

Eddie's anger seems to twist into frustration. " Why didn't you tell me, y/n. " He repeats.

" I was scared. " I close the door, leaning against it for support. All the harbored stress and fear comes barreling out. My fluctuating hormones feed the fire, making everything fucking worse. " How did you find it? "

I know how he found it. I should've hid it fucking better.

" I was taking out the trash when I heard a rattle. I figured you might have dropped something in it and I pulled it out. That's beside the point, Y/N. You kept this from me. When were you planning of fucking telling me? " Eddie's voice is still strong with frustration as he paces around the hall.

" I was going to- " I begin.

" When?! You don't talk to me anymore, when the fuck were you going to tell me? I shouldn't have to find out like this. "

He's right. I should have told him.

Eddie's eyes snap towards me. His expression seems to soften when he realizes I'm crying. " Fuck. " He breathes out, putting his fingers tightly on the bridge of his nose. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. " I'm sorry. " He says slightly calmer. " I shouldn't have yelled at you. Fuck, I'm a horrible person. Who the fuck screams at their pregnant partner? " He clenches his jaw in frustration.

" No. " I shake my head, trying to push past my emotions. " You're not at fault here. I should've told you. You deserved to know. " I take a breath. " I was a coward. Eddie...I was scared of what would happen. To us, to the baby...with my mom. I was scared you wouldn't want the baby....wouldn't want me. "

Eddie's eyes open to look at me. " You were scared of me? Of us? Y/N, what did you think I was going to do? I love you, fuck you're the first person I've ever loved this much. " He admits. He takes a step towards me. Dripping strands of hair frame the sides of his face. " You couldn't do anything to make me stop loving you. I will always be there for you, no matter what. You didn't get pregnant alone, Y/N. In case you forgot, it takes two to make a baby. I'm as responsible for the baby as you are. You didn't need to keep this to yourself. "

I don't say anything.

He's right. Deep down I knew he'd still be there for me. I guess I was just afraid of what would happen if I wasn't right.

Eddie grabs my hand. " I love you and I love this baby. Nothing will ever stop that. I hate that you felt alone this entire time. That you where scared of what I would do. I never wanted you to feel like that. I'm so fucking sorry, Y/N. "

I hug him tightly, not caring about the water soaking in my pj's. " I'm sorry for not telling you. I...I shouldn't have doubted you. "

Eddie hugs me back. " We need to talk about this. "

" Yeah. " I nod, pulling my head away from his warm chest. " We do. "

--------

Eddie finishes drying the ends of his curly hair before speaking. " What should we do. "

" I have no idea. " I sigh. " My mom's going to kill me. " I begin to feel tears well in the back of my eyes. " She'll throw me out, I fucking know it. "

Eddie pulls me into his side. " Hey, hey. It's going to be okay. No matter what, I'll be right by your side when she finds out. We'll tell her together. You can...you can live with me. "

I shake my head. " I can't do that, Eddie. I can't do that to Wayne. He already sleeps on the couch. I don't want him to have to deal with a crying baby at all hours of the night. That's not fair to him. "

" Then we'll find a place to be together. I'm not letting you go homeless, Y/N. I'll-I'll get another job. The diner on Corner street is hiring. I can find a place for us before the baby...and Mrs. Thomas is selling her daughters' old crib, I'm sure she'll sell it to us for a decent price! I can sell my guitar and-"

" Eddie...no. " I put my hand on his arm. " That guitar means everything to you. You can't sell it. Plus, we're still in school. How the hell are you going to manage 2 jobs and school? "

Eddie's expression is serious. " YOU mean everything to me. This baby....it means everything to me. I'll do whatever I have to so you and this baby have a safe place to live. I can get my GED. We'll be okay. " Eddie's thumb traces circles on my thigh, an attempt to calm me down.

I know the argument is useless. Once he makes up his mind, it's set. " Don't do anything yet. We don't know what's going to happen. Let's just take this one day at a time. "

Eddie nods. " When are you going to tell your mom? "

" Tomorrow. I'll tell her tomorrow. " She's going to find out some day, and I'd rather it be from me.

Tomorrow it is.

[roseghoul26]

Chapter 10: But It's Been Promised To Another

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy? Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Arthur Is Bad At Emotions, Confessions, First Time Together, Cunnilingus, Missionary, Doggy Style, Handjobs, Mirrors, Party, Semi-Public Sex, Quickies, Unsafe Sex, Tags Updated Per Chapter Author's Note: for once i've got nothing to say. hope you enjoy! Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay@nn-hh192 @photo1030 @just-pure-trash @julialoopeezz Chapter List

For the first time during your entire marriage, you were excited for Hans to return home. 

Not because you wanted to see him but because it meant that you were one step closer to seeing Arthur at the party. Your back ached from sleeping on the couch as you reached for the now-dry bedding on the line, a hole in your heart that grew each time Arthur left. 

As you walked back into the house with an armful of laundry, you heard the unmistakable noise of wheels rolling over the dirt path. Excitement bubbled through you, and you ran inside and up the stairs. You got to work quickly, refitting the bed with its sheets, pretending to act surprised when you heard Hans knock lightly at the bedroom door.

Spinning around, you were nearly caught off guard by how disheveled he looked, as if he had run his hands through his hair countless times on the ride home. You don’t think you’d ever seen him like this, and the fake smile you’d plastered on fell. “Hans?” You asked cautiously, honestly a bit concerned. “Everything alright?”

His mouth formed the words, but no noise came out. Instead, he just sighed, an even faker smile than yours appearing beneath his beard. “I’m fine,” was all he said before backing up, no doubt retreating to his office. “Just… work. Nothing you need to bother yourself with.”

“But-” You didn’t even get a word out before he disappeared from the doorway. You heard the sound of keys rattling as he pulled them out of his jacket pocket, and you turned back to your work. 

A thought flashed in your mind, making you halt, listening intently for your husband. You remember that the office was unlocked, having no way to lock it after you and Arthur’s exploration. And when you heard the keys stop jingling, you knew he noticed it, too. He always locked his office, even after two years together. 

You waited with bated breath, expecting to hear heavy footsteps return to the bedroom. Your relief was immeasurable when he just continued into the office, hearing the door click as it shut instead. You were in the clear for now. 

During the rest of the time in the bedroom, you expected Hans to appear at any second, angrily shouting at you. But as the minutes crawled by and you were only met with the sounds of fabric rustling, you relaxed.

Eventually, the bed was back to its original shape, and you left the room, passing Hans’ office as you headed downstairs. Much to your pleasure, the rest of the day was spent in solitude, but Hans did finally leave his office for dinner.

You had no idea how to approach asking him about the party, never having asked him before. You stared holes into your plate until you gathered enough courage to speak. “Are we going to Mr. Bronte’s party tomorrow?”

Hans stopped mid-bite, taken aback by your question. “I know you just got home,” you stammered, “but I would like to go. If that’s alright?” 

When a minute passed with just silence, you mentally chastised yourself. But you couldn’t hide the smile on your face when he finally spoke. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to go,” he murmured. “Is it tomorrow?”

“I know it’s a quick turnaround-”

“We’re going.” He cut you off. “There’s some people I need to talk to, anyway.”

You hoped you didn’t look too relieved. “Thank you.”

He merely waved your words off, going straight back to his food. 

The following twenty-four hours went by incredibly slowly, making you fidgety. But eventually, night came around, and you eagerly got dressed. The marks on your body were still very evident, so you went with a high-neck party dress, a dusty blush color, with skirts that ended at your ankles. Slipping on matching gloves and shoes, you decided to keep your hair down in case the dress didn’t cover everything. 

The carriage ride there was, as always, awkward and tense. You fidgeted with your silk gloves, having to expel your excitement somehow. You had no idea if Arthur was actually going to be here tonight, but you certainly hoped. 

After a tortuous thirty minutes, the carriage finally halted in front of a grand house on the outskirts of Saint Denis, a home you’d come to know quite well over the past two years. You flashed a practiced smile to the gentleman who opened the carriage door, taking his hand as he helped you out. Hans got out on the other side, meeting you as you stood at the entrance, saying a small thank-you to the man who helped you.

After being asked for any weapons, Hans extended an arm to you, which you took, linking your arms together. He nodded to the servants before walking up the stairs, you by his side. Even you had to admit that the two of you looked like the definition of high-class, regal even. With your well-crafted dress and his well-fitted tuxedo, the two of you certainly made a sight. If you weren’t already so well-known, you were confident you’d be the talk of the town now if the various heads that turned towards you as you entered the party told you anything. 

Taking a deep breath, you calmed your racing heart and pulled up the mask you’d created over the past two years. The two of you had barely gotten down the stairs of the porch before people were talking to you. Well, to Hans, more specifically. They treated you like an accessory, and you couldn’t be more glad now. You had no desire to talk to these people with their fake niceties and shallow words. You only wanted to speak to one person right now, and you scanned the crowd for his rugged face. 

You prayed that you didn’t look too disappointed when your search bore no results and focused your attention on the conversation before you. You merely caught snip-its, something about the tobacco fields of the Braithwaites. You didn’t really care, though, so you let yourself zone out.

The first hour of the party went similarly, accompanying Hans as he talked to other men. Occasionally, someone would extend a compliment your way, and you’d bat your lashes and thank them, but that would be it. They wouldn’t ask about your opinion on the matter they were discussing or if you had any advice or comments. Additionally, not one person asked you how you were doing, so you drowned your loneliness in glasses of very delicious champagne. 

And when this hour went by, and you didn’t see Arthur, or any of the Van Der Linde gang for that matter, you were kicking yourself for being so eager to go to the party. It was exhausting, participating in an environment that treated you like you didn’t exist, a mere accessory for your husband.

Your disappointment ceased to exist, though, when a familiar silver-haired man passed you, shooting you a double-take as he did. A small smile graced his lips, and he nodded politely at you, which you returned. A larger, brown-haired man accompanied him and nodded to you as well. Hans was too caught up in his current conversation to notice, and after you leaned and whispered that you would be right back, you untangled your arm from his and made your way to the duo.

“Enjoying the party, Mrs. Kerrigan?” You heard Hosea ask, bowing his head slightly. 

“With the current company, yes,” you chuckled. “How are you, Hosea?”

“Irritated because I have to spend my night with these buffoons,” he muttered so only you could hear. “No offense to you, miss.”

“None taken. And you, Bill? Are you well?”

If he was surprised you remembered who he was, he didn’t show. “Can’t say I disagree with Hosea.”

“Me neither. If I’ve gotta be in one more conversation where people act like I don’t exist, I’m gonna lose it,” you sighed. “But that’s a far more difficult issue to resolve. What brings you to party tonight, gentlemen?”

At this point, Bill excused himself from the conversation, nodding politely before entering the crowd. “Dutch wants us to scope out some jobs while getting into the pocket of Angelo Bronte.”

“You’ve got quite the task before you, then.” Hosea shook his head. “I take it you don’t like it?”

“Nothing good comes from getting close to authority. You don’t need me to tell you that. From what I’ve heard, you know much about our recent relationships with certain figures.” An image of Leigh Gray flashed in your mind, and you nodded. 

“But that’s enough talk like that for tonight. You don’t have to trouble yourself with our matters, but we do appreciate it. Besides, there’s been a certain someone who’s been looking for you since the moment we arrived.” Hosea’s eyes flicked to something above and behind you with a knowing expression.

Containing your eagerness, you turned, following the direction of his gaze. You couldn’t help your grin as your gaze landed on the porch. Standing by each other, deep in conversation, was Dutch and Bronte, cigars dangling from their lips as they spoke. And beside them, an almost outsider in the conversation, much like you’d been the entire night, was Arthur Morgan.

His attention was very clearly far from the conversation, as his blue eyes were firmly planted on you, and even from this distance, you could see his smile, slightly obscured by a cigar. He looked even better than you imagined in a tux, black material clinging to his broad shoulders and tapered waist. Before you began to stare, you tore your gaze away, ignoring the heat on your cheeks.

“How’re things with my husband,” you muttered, leaning into Hosea so only he could hear your words. 

“We’ve been meaning to talk to him,” Hosea admitted.

“Well, let me introduce you.” Straightening, you cast one final glance at Arthur as you wove between the crowds, Hosea hot on your heels. Arthur leaned over to murmur something to Dutch, but his eyes still never left you, even as Hosea gestured to him. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’d bewitched him,” Hosea teased, making you laugh. 

“It certainly does feel that way, doesn’t it?” You laughed back, sobering when you saw Hans out of the corner of your eye. He was still deep in conversation, and you shot Hosea an apologetic look as you returned to your spot on Hans’ arm. You now had your back to Arthur, but you could still feel his gaze.

Hans only talked for a few moments before his acquaintances dispersed. “Dear, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” you murmured, angling your head to Hosea. Like a flipped switch, Hosea dropped the casual attitude he’d had with you and had switched to one of pure professionalism and suaveness. You knew he had a silver tongue, but it was astounding to see it in action. 

“Hosea Matthews, how do you do, sir?” Hosea extended a hand, which your husband shook eagerly. 

“A pleasure, Mr. Matthews. The name’s Hans Kerrigan and it appears you’ve already met my wife,” he glanced down at you momentarily. 

You shot Hosea a tight-lipped smile, and you shook his hand as well. Hosea went straight into business, talking about how he was the head of some new security agency in New Austin, something you knew damn well didn’t exist. But Hans was falling into his trap, which made you nearly laugh. Hans seemed almost to light up when Hosea mentioned security, so you knew the first part of their plan had succeeded. So that’s why he had come home looking so stressed: they had wreaked havoc on his business. 

The two men continued to talk for a long while, and you fought the urge to look behind you, knowing once you did, you wouldn’t be able to look away. Hosea’s eyes flicked behind you and Hans before raising his brows at you with a ghost of a smirk. “Here, let me introduce you to two of my compatriots.”

You bit your lips to stop a smile as Dutch and Arthur slid in beside Hosea. Recognition flashed across Hans’ features as he looked at the two new men. “I believe we’ve already had the pleasure. You’re the deputies from Rhodes, right?”

Dutch shot you a look, and you mouthed he doesn’t know back, and your words relieved the black-haired man. “That’s right, Mr. Kerrigan.”

“Good evening, Mr. Van Der Linde,” you greeted him warmly as Hans shook his hand before turning to Arthur. God, keeping your composure was so much more challenging than you thought it would be as you finally looked at him. There he was, the man who had stolen your heart, who had seen you at your most vulnerable, and you had to act like you didn’t want to jump into his arms right there. “It’s Mr. Marston, right?”

Hosea coughed, a poorly hidden chuckle, and even Dutch had to look away before he burst into a laugh. Biting your cheek, you watched Arthur almost look offended, shaking his head slightly. “It’s Morgan, ma’am,” he muttered, extending a hand to you. 

“My sincerest apologies, Mr. Morgan,” you gasped while shaking his hand. Barely contained desire flashed across his face as his hand encompassed yours, a hefty sigh moving his chest. You pulled away before the handshake became too long, your hand returning to rest by your side. Arthur simply nodded, stepping back until he was shoulder-to-shoulder with Hosea, letting the conversation continue. 

As the four men spoke, you found yourself unable to resist the urge any longer, and you let your eyes wander to him. Every time you did, his attention would focus on you, even if he was in the middle of talking. Hans was none the wiser, chatting with the men as if they were long-lost friends. 

You found yourself bored, and some part of you wanted to see how far you could push Arthur in public. It started subtly, letting your eyes trail over his body shamelessly, unseen by the other conversation members. Arthur caught it, though, and every time you did it, you watched his body stiffen.

It grew less subtle, running your hands along your neck, both of you knowing what lay beneath the cloth covering it. A slight wince of pain left you as you rubbed a particularly sore spot, and Arthur quickly hid his balled-up hands behind his back, rocking on his heels slowly. 

Grabbing a flute of champagne, you took a sip, letting out a content noise as the bubbly drink hit your mouth. When you pulled the glass down, a droplet spilled over the edge, and it began to run down the side of the glass. Without thinking, you ran your tongue along the glass, collecting the droplet before it hit your hand. It had been a complete accident, but even so, it finally broke Arthur. 

Arthur muttered something to Hosea before breaking away from the group, an unspoken command in his eyes as he walked away. As he passed, you could tell he wanted to reach out and touch you, but he refrained. Subtle glancing over your shoulder, you watched Arthur climb the porch stairs, disappearing into Bronte’s house.

You waited a few moments before excusing yourself and taking a different path to the house, discarding the glass along the way. It was easy to slip away, to be unnoticed by the crowds, and sneak along the high hedge bushes; eventually, you made your way inside. It was staggeringly quieter in the house, the party chatter now silenced, and all you could hear was the click of your heels and quickened breaths. 

You luckily met with no servants as you glanced around, trying to catch a glimpse of where Arthur went. Walking further in, you ended up on one of the hallways, doors lining each side. You didn’t pay them much mind, but you wished you did when you felt yourself dragged into one, a large hand grasping your wrist. 

Your cry of alarm was muffled by a palm over your mouth, and you nearly bit down until you heard Arthur's drawl. Pressed up against your back, you felt him lean down to your ear, making you shiver. “Were you noticed?” He asked, his voice quiet. 

Unable to speak still, you shook your head. “Good,” he muttered before he spun you around to face him. Lips replaced his palm, the force of the kiss nearly baking you up against the door. Your gloved hands tangled in his hair, meeting the desperation of the kiss, pulling him as close as you could to his body. 

“God, I need ya,” you heard him groan.

“You’ve got me, Arthur.”

“We’ve gotta be quick, darlin’.” You felt his hands run down your body, grasping the backs of your thighs. It took little urging from you to wrap your legs around his body, and he carried you further into the room. You had no idea what kind of room you were in, as the curtains had been drawn shut, leaving the room in almost complete darkness. But dust tickled your nose, and you knew you probably wouldn’t expect anyone to come in soon. 

Still, Arthur was able to navigate the room with ease, and you felt him ease you back down onto a wooden surface. Papers pressed against your back, and you realized you were in an office of sorts, and Arthur had just laid you down on a desk. “D’you know how hard it’s been to keep my eyes off you tonight?” Arthur asked, making you laugh softly. 

“I didn’t think you were tryin’,” you joked. 

“It’s hard to when I just wanna rip this dress off of ya.” Hands braced on either side of your head, and even though you couldn’t see, you knew his face was inches from yours. “And then you decide to tease me. It took everythin’ in me not to take ya right there,” his voice had turned into a growl.

“Arthur-”

“Roll over.” His weight left your body, and you heard the unmistakable sound of his belt buckle as he undid it. Your head spun as excitement and arousal made your body buzz, and you were almost grateful for the dark so that Arthur couldn’t see how eagerly you complied. 

Your feet were barely on the ground as you rested your upper body on the desk, your forearms holding you up. Your breath caught when you felt the skirt of your dress lift, the material ticking your skin as it brushed against it. Arthur had the skirt in a fist at your hip, his other hand trailing over your ass, running his fingers along the edge of your undergarments. “You’ve gotta look so beautiful, bent over like this,” he whispered in the dark. 

“We’ll just have to do it again.”

“Oh, gladly.”

Cold air hit your center as Arthur tugged the garment down, letting it pool at your ankles. You knew neither had time to build things up, but you were still surprised when you felt him press into you. You must’ve made some noise as he eased in, as one of his hands wrapped around to cover your mouth. 

“Gotta be quiet, darlin’,” he whispered, a slight strain in his voice. 

You nodded, stifling your noises as best you could. You were thankful that Arthur kept his hand over your mouth, as you doubted you’d be able to continue to stifle them for long. 

When Arthur’s hips became flush with yours, you both sighed softly, the stretch of him a familiar ache. He leaned forward, and you felt the lightest kiss placed between your clothed shoulders. That was all the warning you got before he was setting a viscous pace, the buckle of his belt hitting your skin with every snap of his hips. Muffled noises spilled from behind Arthur’s hand, a mix of praises and moans and his name. 

You were thankful that the desk he currently had you bent over was sturdy, the soft groan of wood instead of loud creaks, and it remained in its place as he moved. Even through the silk gloves, your nails dug into the skin of your palms as you tried and failed to make as little noise as possible. It proved to be an impossible task with how desperately he was fucking you, hitting all the right spots inside of you. You could do nothing but let your eyes flutter close as pleasure caressed your body, and you could feel your eventual release begin to grow. 

The sound of laughter outside made your eyes shoot open, and in a moment of panic, you tried to get up. Arthur was having none of it, and he used his body weight to keep you pinned to the desk. “Now ya really gotta be quiet,” his voice came out breathy, unfaltering in his movements. “Unless ya want everyone to see you like this.”

You’re not sure why you reacted the way you did, but the idea made you shudder, and Arthur felt it in more ways than one. “Oh, you’d like that?” He asked, a hint of disbelief in his words. Your cheeks burned, shame and embarrassment and excitement making your body warm. “You want everyone to see the respectable Mrs. Kerrigan bent over a desk, fallin’ apart just for me?” You barely heard his words, but you found yourself nodding anyway. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that’s a sight only I get to see.”

Current circumstances notwithstanding, you would’ve commented that he couldn’t see you right now. But your comment faded in your mind as soon as it came, and you just sighed against his palm. 

Thankfully, the sound of laughter and voices receded, and in the back of your mind, you felt relief. But you hardly recognized it, especially when you felt his hand sneak between your thighs and begin to rub at your clit. The movement of his fingers, just like his hips, was quick and hurried, and you found yourself rapidly approaching your release. 

Praises spilled from his lips and into your ear, which was all you needed to reach your end. Your knees buckled as you came, your entire body being held up by the desk as pleasure washed over you. Your head spun, both from your release and the lack of oxygen, and Arthur seemed to realize this as you felt him pull his hand away. As quietly as you could, you sucked in air as Arthur chased his own release, fingers digging into his hips. 

Even though you were drunk on lust, you knew the implications of your following words as you uttered them. “Inside, Arthur,” you gasped, voice scratchy. His pace faltered, and you knew that he heard you. “I wanna feel you for the rest of the night.”

“Oh, fuck…” You felt his head rest between your shoulders, and you felt his warm breath through the material of your dress. You didn’t have to see him to know he was biting down harshly on his lip to keep himself quiet, but a small groan did leave him as he came. Warmth spread through your lower body, making you gasp quietly. 

He took a few moments to catch his breath before easing off and out of you. You had no idea where he went, so you jumped when you felt his fingers brushing up your legs, securing your undergarments back on your body. He rubbed your back as he brought your skirt back down, almost like he was thanking you. 

Using the desk for support, you turned around, making a small noise when you felt his release spill from you. Hands grasped your waist, and you were being tugged into a surprisingly gentle kiss from Arthur. Your arms went around his neck, holding him close. 

“I missed you,” you heard him murmur when he pulled away, head resting against yours.

“I missed you too.” It felt too simple of a response to encompass just how deeply you did miss him, but it would have to do. 

“You look beautiful tonight.” You smiled at the sincerity in his voice.

“You clean up well yourself, Mr. Morgan.”

“I thought it was Mr. Marston.” He still sounded irked by your comment, which made you laugh. 

“You have to admit, it was kind of funny.”

“Dutch and Hosea certainly seemed to think so.”

You hummed. “They seemed to be goin’ a good job buttering up Hans.”

He scoffed. “They didn’t have to try that hard. He’s almost a bit too eager.”

“D’you think he knows?”

“Doubt it. He’s desperate, and we just offered him the perfect solution.”

“I’m glad everything’s working out, then.”

“We’ve got some good scores lined up, too. We’re plannin’ on hittin’ the bank in town soon,” you fought back the dread that made you feel, “which should hopefully give us enough money to get the law off us and to… to start a new life.” Arthur sighed, and he seemed nervous. “Darlin’, would-”

A loud booming sound rocked the room, making you both jump apart. Bright flashes of color poured in from between the curtains, and you laughed in relief. “Fireworks,” you murmured, a bit amazed by the vibrant colors.

The flashes of light allowed you to see Arthur a bit, and he deflated a bit. “We should probably get back to the party.”

You frowned. “Already?”

“As much as I’d like to spend the rest of the night here, every minute of you bein’ gone raises suspicion.”

You hated how right he was. “Fine,” you sighed, your frown deepening when Arthur stepped away, your hands falling to your sides. But it seemed that he, too, couldn’t be away for long because you felt him grab one of your hands as he led you to the door, thumb tracing mindless patterns into your skin. Loud booms continued to rattle the building, and as you stepped outside, you heard the excitement from the crowds. 

When Arthur opened it, the beam of light that hit your eyes made you squint, and you watched as he made sure the hallway was clear before leading you out. He dropped your hand, not before pressing a kiss to the back of it, and he turned to face you. You had to bite back a laugh when you saw the disarray his hair was in, and you ushered him to bend down. Your gloves just created static, and fixing it took more effort than it should have. His eyes never left yours as you worked, a soft smile tugging his lips, which you returned. 

“There you go,” you murmured. “Perfect, as always.”

A light dusting of pink appeared on his cheeks as he stood upright. “Thank you, darlin’.”

“How do I look?”

Blue eyes roamed your body, an almost thoughtful expression on his face. “Words can’t do it justice, darlin’.” That certainly wasn’t what you asked, but you weren’t complaining. Not when he stared at you like you were Venus in the flesh, and you ducked your head. “But you look… put together.”

You certainly didn’t feel put together, but you trusted Arthur’s word. “You were sayin’ somethin’ earlier, before the fireworks.”

“It ain’t important,” Arthur quickly deflected, and you frowned, not liking that he was keeping something from you. “But that reminds me…” You watched Arthur reach inside his jacket, pulling out a small envelope. “A letter arrived for ya yesterday.”

“Is… is it from-”

“It is.” A fond smile appeared on his face at the sheer delight you radiated, and you took the letter he presented to you with shaky hands. Your name was written across the front in your mother's handwriting, and you chuckled in disbelief. 

You caught Arthur off guard when you nearly tackled him in a hug, forcing him to stumble back a few steps. Cautiously, like he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, you felt his hand settle on your back, the other holding the back of your head, cradling you to his body. “Thank you, Arthur,” you murmured, your words muffled by his suit jacket. Taking a deep breath, you smelled tobacco and gunpowder. It seemed no amount of dolling up could change that. 

“You don’t gotta thank me.”

You ignored him. “I owe you for this.”

Footsteps echoed across the room, forcing you two to pull apart. Even though every part of you screamed to rip the letter open, you knew you weren’t in the suitable space to do it. Carefully, you folded the letter, which was already relatively small, to begin with, and you tucked it into the palm of your glove, hidden away for now. “I’ll read it when I get home.”

There was a respectable amount of space between your bodies now, and you hated it. You both tensed as the footsteps grew closer, and you both flashed polite smiles to the guests who passed. They didn’t seem to recognize you, and you breathed a sigh of relief. “We… we should probably head back to the party.”

Arthur hesitantly nodded. “I’ve got a few things I need to take care of here. I’ll meet ya out there.”

“Up to no good, are we?” 

His responding smirk said all you needed to know. “Go before someone comes lookin’.” Shaking your head lightly, you shot him one last smile before walking past him. You weren’t surprised when you felt him grab your hand, rolling your eyes affectionately. 

“Arthur…” Your words were cut off when he brought your hand up to his lips, the pure adoration in his eyes making you gasp. When he placed three kisses in rapid succession on your knuckles, it took every ounce of willpower not to drag him back into that room. You both knew what he meant by those three kisses, something he had yet to say. But it was a start. 

Your heart hammered in your chest as he dropped your hand and took a few steps back, creating a sense of finality in the conversation. “I’ll see ya out there, darlin’.”

“You better,” you muttered before backing up, not wanting to turn away from him just yet. But as you turned out of the hallway, you lost sight of him, so you faced forward. Walking back to the party alone, you blushed when you felt the remnants of him between your legs, reminding you of what had just transpired.

No one looked as you descended the porch stairs, everyone too distracted by the fireworks show. You were easily able to sneak back to your spot next to Hans, who, too, was also transfixed by the show. He merely nodded your way when you linked your arms, apparently not even fazed by your disappearance. 

Hosea and Dutch were still standing by Hans; their backs turned as they watched the show. You watched as the older man leaned into the other, whispering something to him. You could not distinguish what he said, but Dutch laughed, clapping Hosea on the back. 

The show lasted about five more minutes, and even though the sight was incredible, you couldn’t bring yourself to enjoy it. How could you, when Arthur occupied every corner of your mind? How could you, when the letter in your glove burned your skin?

The man plaguing your thoughts returned shortly after, and the disbelieving look that Hosea gave him made you nearly laugh. When Arthur stood by his side, he also leaned into him, and even though you couldn’t see Arthur’s face, you knew he was either blushing or scoffing based on how he shook his head. 

Hans right returned to business mode, wrapping up the discussion with Dutch and Hosea. You’re not sure how much time passed as you spaced out a bit, but suddenly, the two men were wishing you a good night. “Have a good night, gentlemen,” you nodded to them before directing your attention to Arthur. “You as well, Mr. Morgan.”

Your eyes followed the group until they were long gone, fighting the hitch in your breath when Arthur glanced over his shoulder right at the last moment. The longing was evident on his face, but it was broken when Bill made some comment, and you figured that the other three men were laughing at Arthur’s expense. 

You and Hans stayed at the party until late in the night, when exhaustion pulled at your already aching muscles, and your feet felt like lead in your shoes. You nearly sagged in relief when Hans led you to the front of the house, calling for your carriage. 

You almost immediately excused yourself to the bedroom when you got home, nearly running into the attached bathroom and locking the door. The idea of washing up was the last thing on your mind as you tore off your glove, the letter falling into the sink as you did. Some ink from the envelope had stained your skin, but you didn’t care. 

The sound of paper ripping filled the room. Your hands were sweaty as you held the letter up, and tears formed in your eyes as you read the words in your mother’s handwriting. 

My beautiful daughter,

You have no idea how happy it makes my heart to hear from you. The house has become joyless without you in it. How I long to hear your laughter fill it.

I must admit, I never expected to hear from you again, but how glad I am that my expectations were wrong. After you ran off, I thought we’d never hear from you again.  But it seems you’ve done well for yourself. Seeing a different last name was a bit of a shock, but how glad I am that you’ve found someone to marry! All I hope is that they treat you well and that you’re happy. 

I must stop by and see you! Perhaps bring a few of your siblings. Oh, how they have missed you! Do let your husband know to expect a visit from us soon!

Much love,

Irene

Happiness quickly wore off as the contents of the second paragraph hit you. Confusion made your brow furrow, and you grasped the counter edge for stability. She thought you ran off? Did your father not tell anyone about the marriage he had set up for you? Why was he lying to the rest of your family?

But then another realization hit you, one that made the tears in your eyes finally fall. You were going to see your family again. 

[blushweddinggowns]

Chrissy woke up in Robin’s arms a few hours later, rested but disoriented. There was an odd sound she couldn’t place, a jingle that her morning-sleepiness wouldn’t let her focus on. 

The music was still playing in the background, a constant loop. She looked around, relieved that everyone was still there. Nancy was curled onto her side with Max laid out at the very end of the bed. Steve and Eddie were laying on top of each other on the couch, while Dustin snored in the chair. 

She wasn’t sure what woke her up, not until she realized that tinkling was the sound of keys in the door, followed by it slamming open.

“I hate that damn door,” She heard a gruff voice say under his breath. 

Chrissy popped her head up, her eyes widening when Eddie’s uncle stepped inside. He stopped, a loud sigh escaping as he looked around the room. His eyes zeroed right onto Eddie and Steve on the couch, Eddie still peacefully asleep on Steve’s chest. 

He didn’t even look surprised. Just vaguely annoyed. 

Chrissy watched as he walked over, nudging them both until they started grumbling. Steve came to first, rubbing his eyes before looking up at Wayne with a very guilty look on his face. 

He shook Eddie with him, waking him just in time to hear it when Wayne sighed, “Boys, why are all of these people in our house?”

They looked at each other, another silent conversation raging on until Steve nodded. 

Eddie rolled off of him, landing on his feet as he looked at Wayne, “We have something to tell you. And… you’re probably going to want to sit down for it.”

The rest of the group was starting to wake now, everyone coming to consciousness from the noise. But Wayne listened. He sat on the couch, obviously confused as Steve shook Nancy awake. He whispered a few words into her ear, her eyes going from sleepy to focused in record time. 

She nodded, “You’re right. He deserves to know.”

“Will someone please explain what the hell you’re talking about?” Wayne finally snapped, “I’m getting off a ten-hour shift here.”

“I know, I know,” Eddie sighed as he sat next to him, “But you’re gonna want to hear this. Nancy, go.”

And go she went, explaining the same tale that Chrissy got, but with none of the circumstances to force her to believe it. 

By the end of it, Wayne had his head in his hands, groaning as everyone chimed in about their corroborating stories. 

He was struggling to believe it, they could all tell. Chrissy couldn’t blame him. She was still struggling, despite the fact that her life was on the line.

He finally looked up, his eyes zeroing in on Steve and Eddie. 

“So you’re saying, that day you two came home beaten and bloodied wasn’t a fight? You almost died fighting monsters. That’s what you’re telling me?”

“I-It technically was a fight-” Steve tried.

“Have you or have you not, been risking your lives for the past four years dealing with supernatural shit? Yes or no, Steven?” Wayne interrupted. 

It was enough to snap Steve’s mouth shut. Chrissy was pretty sure she’d never seen him look chastised before, but here he was. Steve nodded, nearly hiding behind Eddie as Wayne groaned. 

“W-We had to sign NDAs!” Eddie tried, “We would have told you but we didn’t think-”

“What? You thought it would be better for me to find out my kids died through some shady government agency? Do you even know how insane all of the shit you just said was! I- how do you expect me to react?!”

It worked just as well with Eddie as it did with Steve. He snapped his mouth back closed, thoroughly reprimanded.

“We’re sorry,” Steve mumbled out, oddly child-like. Almost as though he was getting scolded by his father instead of his friend’s uncle.

“Steve, I don’t want to hear it,” Wayne said, “Because neither of you are going to stop, are you? Not when that girl’s life is on the line.”

They both shook their heads and it was enough to have Wayne groaning again. 

 “I don’t want to believe you,” Wayne finally said, “I haven’t heard anything like this since I was a kid. Boys, this is just too damn much!”

“Wait, what?” Nancy asked, her soft voice ignored as Eddie jumped in. 

“But it’s true! I swear it is! Think of all the weird shit that happens here, Wayne. A kid came back from the dead. You know this town is messed up!”

Steve was still going for a more meek approach, “Are you really that mad?”

“You’re damn right I’m mad!” Wayne snapped again, “The two of you have been risking your lives for - I don’t even know! Why would you-”

“No, wait,” Nancy interrupted, firm enough to get all eyes back on her, “What did you say before? The thing about when you were a kid?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Wayne said with a wave of the hand, “Just old ghost stories.”

“But what ghost stories?” 

Wayne shrugged, “Just… something crazy. It doesn’t matter.”

“But what if it does?” Nancy pressed, “What happened to Will is probably known as a ghost story around here now, and it was at the center of everything. We have no reason to think whatever this is started with him. What if it started before?”

“She’s right,” Dustin chimed in, “What happened when you were a kid?”

Wayne sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as he spoke, “There was a man who lived on the other side of town, in that abandoned house with the stained glass. Killed his whole family. Snapped all their limbs apart like some kind of monster. They never even explained how he managed it, let alone what he did to his son. They never found his body. But he was insane not magic. He sewed his own eyes shut after, never admitting to what he did. Victor Creel doesn’t have anything to do with my kids being stupid-”

“That was his name?” Nancy interrupted, “Victor Creel? What happened to him?”

“I think he’s still at the asylum,” Wayne said, “He got a plea deal, because he was off his damn rocker. Haven’t heard anything about him since.”

 Nancy turned to Chrissy, her brow raised, “Does the stained glass ring any bells?”

Chrissy blinked at her, “I-maybe?”

from the next chapter of this fic

[and-claudia]

Against All Odds pt.3 (Joel Miller x fem! reader)

no time jump yet!!!

WARNINGS: SMUT!!!!! unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), 18+ content, talk/mentions of handguns

General Warnings for later on: The main story will have an age gap between Joel and the reader (Reader will be 25 once we get to the main storyline), this will also be your warning that it will eventually be an x pregnant reader (if that's not your jam, I'm sorry) there is also going to be more graphic/trigger parts later on so please always to be sure to read the warnings BEFORE reading. This story will also be 18+ and TO BE ON THE TAGLIST YOU CAN NOT BE AN AGELESS BLOG (i do actually check that) also there first hand full of parts are all prologue so Joel won't actually be in it for a bit

Taglist Sign-Up (read my rules carefully before filling it out)

Bill and Frank allowed us to crash at their house for the night, which we gratefully accepted. This would allow us to get some proper rest for our trek back to the Boston QZ. Joel and I ended up in the same room together. 

Lips were against lips, tongues were exploring each other, hands were roaming. I wanted him so badly. Joel was sat up against the headboard as I straddled his outstretched legs. Instead of using my words, I grinded myself down against his lap, hinting to him what I wanted. He pulled away, leaving us both to catch our breath as he spoke. 

“I would love to, sweetheart. We just can’t… not here. The walls are too thin. They’d hear everything. I’m sorry.” He said, cupping my cheek. 

“Do you know where Bill keeps the keys to the truck?” I asked. 

“You’re not really suggesting that… are you?” He asked, shocked that I would suggest such a thing. 

“I’m not as innocent as you may think, Joel.” I said with a wink before climbing off of his lap. 

“Come on.” I said, grabbing his hand. 

“I don’t know where the keys are.” He argued but stood up still. 

“That’s fine, I do, I was just asking.” I said, pulling him by his arm over to the door. 

I quietly opened the door to our room and peeked out. Coast was clear. We slipped out of the room and down the hall. As we quickly snuck down the stairs, I glanced back over my shoulder at Joel. He had a huge smile on his face as we snuck around like a couple of horny teens trying to get passed parents. 

The keys were on a hook in the kitchen. I grabbed them and held them in my closed fist so they wouldn’t jingle and make noise. Then we slipped out the back door and over to the garage. We got to the truck and unlocked it. 

“How is this even going to work?” Joel asked. 

“You’ve never had car sex?” I asked a little surprised. 

“You have?” He asked, wide-eyed. 

I just smiled at him and opened the door to the backseat. 

“Get in.” I said, smacking his ass as he stepped by. 

I climbed in behind and shut the door behind me. Then, I turned to crank the window handle to roll it down some. 

“Crack that one too. It’s gonna get hot.” 

He did as I instructed and then turned to me, “Now what?” 

“Now, you’re going to fuck me.” I said. 

That was all it took for his lips to be on mine once again as I turned in my seat to face him. His hands found the bottom hem of my shirt. 

“Off?” He asked, between kisses. 

I nodded and he sat up for some for him to take it off. I took that opportunity to grab his belt and give it a good tug. 

“Off.” I didn’t bother asking, they needed to come off, the tent he was pitching in those jeans was mocking me and I had to see it for myself. 

He pulled away completely and sat back to get his jeans and underwear off. I took the time to do the same. Once we were both bare, he turned back to me and got up on his knees. I laid back as best as I could without having my back or head digging in or hitting the door too much. 

“You’re sure about this sweetheart?” He asked one last time. 

“Positive.” I nodded. 

He leaned back over to kiss me once again as his hand traveled down my body. His hand ran through my fold. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re already soaking.” He said in slight awe. 

He took the slickness that was now on his hand and rubbed it up and down his hard cock, giving me a good view of it. 

It was the nicest dick I had ever seen. I was a little surprised to see how nicely kept he was. Not that I thought or cared otherwise. Before I could stop myself, I was reaching for it. It wasn’t until Joel gently grabbed my wrist to stop me that I realized what I was doing. 

“Not this time, sweetheart. I want to make sure I’ll last, don’t think I would with your hand wrapped around my cock.” He said. 

“Next time?” 

“Next time.” He nodded before leaning down and connecting his lips to mine, “Ready?” 

After I gave him a nod, and without removing his lips, he lined himself up and gently worked his way into me. He bottomed out with one last roll of his hips that nearly left me breathless. 

“Fuck, Joel, please just fuck me.” I sighed, against his lips. 

He gave me one last kiss before pulling back to get better leverage to thrust into me. They started out gentle but quickly grew faster and harder. It hardly took him any time to find that sweet spot deep inside. 

“You know you look so good like this, with my cock buried deep inside your cunt.” He said teeth gritted slightly. 

“You, don’t look half bad yourself.” I managed to say back. 

That seemed to spur him on as I felt his cock twitch slightly. 

“I’m not going to last much longer, sweetheart. Where?” He asked.

“Not in. Anywhere but in.” I said, not wanting to take any risk. We had no form of protection in use right now. 

I was close to my own release when he pulled out and came all over my torso. Then, not even a second later he was using his fingers to help me finish, pumping them in and out, curling them just right to send me absolutely spiraling. 

“Fuck!” I moaned, dropping my head back, and smacking it on the door. I couldn’t find it in me to care though, not with the way Joel was hitting the right spot every time. 

His name left my lips in a moan as I came all over his fingers. When my walls stopped squeezing around his fingers, he carefully removed them and then stuck them in his mouth to clean them off. Once he was done his eyes focussed in on the mess he had made on me. 

“Oh, sweetheart. Here, let me get you cleaned up.” He said as he pulled his pants back up. 

Then, he reached into the front seat where his shirt had been tossed and used that to clean off my stomach. Slowly we both found our clothes and put them on. Joel ended up just tossing the shirt to a random pile of junk in the corner saying he could get another one. We quietly made our way back to the house and slipped inside. Just as I was putting the keys back the kitchen light flipped on causing Joel and me to freeze. 

“In our truck, really?” Frank asked as we both turned around. 

I was trying not to laugh. 

“You better of cleaned up, if Bill finds out, you won’t be allowed back here.” He said only partly joking. 

“We did.” I said. 

“Good. Now go to bed, quit acting like horny teens, it’s disgusting.” He teased before turning away and leaving Joel and me. 

One look at Joel caused us both to start laughing. We both tried to cover our mouths to not make too much noise as we stumbled back upstairs and to our room. We both got ready and settled into the bed. It was nicer than the one Joel had back in the QZ. That paired with Joel's around me helped me fall asleep quickly. 

The next morning, we had to leave. I was a little sad but I knew I would get to come back again and see them. Before we left Bill pulled me aside. 

“Joel said you don’t have a gun.” 

“I don’t. My dad had a couple and some of my brothers did but I’ve never had one. My dad lost one when we moved from Knoxville and I couldn’t find his other one before I had to leave my old place.” I explained. 

“Hm… well come here.” He said, nodding for me to follow. 

“You know how to use one right?” He asked. 

“Yeah, Scott showed me a while back and Joel’s helped me more with it here and there.” 

He nodded. 

When we got to where he was leading I was amazed. He had a whole cellar full of them. 

“I think I have something that belongs to you.” He said, catching my attention. 

I turned around and there, sitting on the table was a gun that I hadn’t seen in years. The barrel was all black, a little worn by the years. The magazine grip was plated in wood and carved carefully into it were my and my brothers' initials and the year we were born. It was my Pa’s gun, the one he had lost. 

“How’d you get this?” I asked, picking it up carefully as if it were made of porcelain. 

“Someone showed up here with it, used it as a trade. It’s yours though. I got ammo and some holsters over there.” He pointed me to where they were. 

I found the right ammo and took some then took a look at the holsters. At the bottom was a thigh one that was perfect. I got it on, loaded the magazine, and put the safety on before following Bill out. 

When we got back to the house, Joel and Tess were waiting with our bags, ready to go. We all said our goodbyes and made our way to the fence line. As we made our way closer to the cover of trees I turned back and took one last good look at it all. I would be back, I reminded myself but I would have never guessed what would happen between now and then.

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[touretticeddiemunson]

“Be Careful” | Angst, Hurt/No Comfort, Hurt/Some Comfort

TW: mentions of HIV/AIDS and character death

This is a Steddie/Stranger Things & Falsettos musical crossover! This short fic does not necessarily match real time in either show.

—

Wayne Munson led a simple, quiet life. He was never really one for all the hustle and bustle of big city life that his best friend wanted growing up.

Whizzer was obsessed with getting out of Hawkins. It was all he talked about.

“I’m too good for this town, Wayne. I know I am. You are, too. You could go with me, to New York. Where we can be open, find guys that will actually love us, instead of wanting quickies in bathrooms. I want to finally be happy,” Whizzer had said.

“My whole life is right here, Whizz. I can’t just leave. My brother, he’s got a girlfriend who’s pregnant. He’s not gonna be there for the kid, and she’s gonna need help. I can’t just leave. I can’t just let that kid grow up without help,” Wayne had argued. They were in their 20s around this time. The perfect age to just get out.

But Wayne couldn’t bring himself to do it.

So, Whizzer left. He went to New York, found a guy. He kept Wayne updated, told him all about the man’s kid and how wicked smart he was.

“He’s so sweet, Wayne. Eddie would love him. They could play together, if you ever came to visit,” Whizzer had said over the phone one day. It had been 6 years since Whizzer left.

Wayne had gotten custody of 5 year old Eddie a couple months prior.

“You could always come back with Marvin. I can’t just pick Eddie up and leave to New York. That city is no place for a youngin’ like him.” Wayne made an excuse. He was just too scared to leave Hawkins, really. He didn’t like that much change.

“You know I can’t come back to Hawkins, Wayne. I just…can’t.” Whizzer relented, his hurt emotions panging Wayne right in the heart through the receiver of the phone.

“I know, Whizz. Just…be careful, alright? I’m hearin’ some things about shit going around. Don’t get sick. Love you, bud.” He warned before hanging up with a soft affirmation of love for the boy. He’d always quietly loved Whizzer, the boy who was loud and unafraid to be himself. Wayne always felt too small, too afraid to love Whizzer as loud as he deserved to be. So Whizzer never knew.

Eddie grew up hearing stories and watching Wayne talk to “Uncle Whizzer”, the sweet boy his uncle once knew who ran off to New York to chase his dreams of love and passion. He would hear about him every day, about Jason, the little boy two years older than him. About Marvin, his stubborn and bitter lover. They had broken up for 2 years, but gotten back together after getting over their bullshit.

Wayne slowly got more and more bitter talking to Whizzer on the phone. The more Wayne heard about Marvin, the tighter he’d grip his coffee cup in the morning as Eddie got himself ready and watched him from the counter eating a cold bagel.

Until one day, when the calls just stopped. They just…stopped happening. Wayne shut Eddie own every time he asked about “Uncle Whizzer”.

9 years later, Wayne came home to hearing giggling and seeing shuffling in the living room. He hopped out of his truck and walked up to the door, making sure his keys jingled in the lock as he entered.

He half expected Eddie to be cuddled up with some girl, so he mentally prepared himself to make the “use protection, not on the couch, I’m always here if you need anything” talk.

To Wayne’s surprise, he walked into the trailer see his Eddie under another boy, their lips connected and hands wandering to places they definitely shouldn’t be. He felt his heart thump, his stomach twist, and his eyes prick with tears.

Not his boy. Not his Eddie. He walked right out the door he came through, slamming it shut. He heard curses, something knock over, followed by the calling of his name from inside the trailer.

“Wayne, we weren’t— I’m sorry, please come back in. We’re decent, it’s fine. Let me talk to you,” Eddie pleaded through the door.

Wayne huffed and managed to go back inside, meeting Eddie’s eyes with a firmness he didn’t usually have.

“Eddie, I need you to know I’ve got no problem with this. Just…I didn’t think I’d have to give you this talk so soon.” He sighed, his hands being shoved into his pockets. Eddie and Steve audibly groaned, moving to sit down.

“We were being safe, Mr. Munson, honest.” Steve reassures, hands coming down to anxiously rub at his knees.

“That’s just the thing, son. I just…you have to make sure this is what you want. Sex is…dangerous for you boys. Anything could go wrong at any time. A rubber could break, one of you could get cut, anything could happen. You have to be careful.” Wayne explained, avoiding saying the word. It hurt too much. That was when Eddie said it, so casually. So…desensitized.

“God, Wayne, we know about AIDS. We’ve been exposed to it almost our whole lives. We know how to avoid it.” Eddie groaned tiredly, not wanting the disease explained to him by another adult who was worried about him.

“Eddie. I know you know. But you’re not hearing me. You have to be careful. I don’t want to lose you like I lost your Uncle Whizzer,” he admitted, his eyes falling to his lap.

“Uncle who?” Steve asked, but Eddie didn’t respond.

Oh, god. He remembered. He remembered the day like it was yesterday. The clattering sound of the phone hitting the wall when Wayne dropped it. Remembered hearing his sobbing. Remembered seeing Wayne crumpled on the floor, hitting the floor with one fist and clutching his shirt over his heart with the other, like it was shattering and he was trying to hold it together.

Wayne had never cried that loud, that hard ever in front of Eddie.

“Oh, shit. That’s why he stopped calling?” Eddie asked, his voice breaking as Wayne gave a solemn nod. “And…Whizzer’s boyfriend?” He asked. Wayne sniffled and shook his head, watching as Eddie inhaled sharply and let out a sob.

“God…Wayne. I’m so sorry. We’ll be more careful. You won’t lose me. I won’t let you lose anyone else.” Eddie promised, leaning forward and grabbing Wayne’s hands.

The older man looked at Eddie with tear-filled eyes and gave an affirming nod, getting up and kissing Eddie’s temple.

They never talked about that night again.

Over the years, Wayne watched their love grow. Witnessed them get too intimate to stay in that little trailer with Wayne. Soon enough, Hawkins became too little for their big “six little nuggets” plan. They agreed to move to New York. A more accepting place, where they could easily find others like them.

Helping them move into their city apartment, it was here that Wayne got a chance to visit Whizzer for the first time in years, and meet Marvin.

He entered the cemetery on a Thursday afternoon, sniffling upon seeing two faded chess pieces on their headstones. Jason loved chess, Whizzer had said years ago. This must have been his doing.

He knew now that this was the perfect place for his Whizzer all along. Hawkins wasn’t enough. It wasn’t Wayne. It was the place. He should have gone with him, but he was just too scared. He fell to his knees, touching the headstone of his friend, his first love.

“Hey, Whizz. It’s Wayne. I’m here. I made it to visit. I’m sorry I’m so late. It’s about time, huh? God, I love ya. I love ya more than anything, Whizzer Brown.” He murmured to the grave, breaking the silence in the air.

Within a second, he felt the wind brush his cheek. It wasn’t a normal gust. It lingered and felt almost like slender, soft fingers brushing the skin. He noticed a leaf fall on the grass in front of Whizzer’s grave, watched it twitch as the wind tried to pull it free from the grass.

It was then that he knew Steve and Eddie would be safe here. Whizzer and Marvin would watch over them.

His boys belonged here. They’d have two strong gusts of wind pushing them along, keeping them together.

He was sure of it.

[ddejavvu]

hi!! happy monday! so i was wondering if you could write something with hybrid au with hotch 👀 the reader is a cat hybrid and she lives with him and she’s really comforting to him and when he comes home he can’t wait to cuddle with her and kiss her and play with her and it’s just all so softtttt <3 thank you!

The jingle of Aaron's keys in the door is enough to rouse you from your catnap, the sun warming your skin as you sprawl in a patch of it. You scramble to your feet, eager to greet your charge. Penelope, the sweet blonde glitter bomb, had recruited you in hopes of helping her boss with his emotions. She told you that he tended to shut himself down instead of feeling, and that she was absolutely certain a 'cute thing like yourself' would help. You'd say you're doing a pretty good job. Aaron walks in the door with a smile on his face now, a stark contrast to the grumpiness he used to radiate the first few weeks of living with you. Now, when your fingers pry at the collar of his suit jacket he grins, setting down his briefcase as quickly as possible so that he can catch you when you scale him like a ladder.

"Hi sweetheart," He hums, fingers already reaching for the spot behind your ears that makes your chest rev with a purr, "Did you have a good day?"

"Mhm," You nod, "I birdwatched."

"Oh?" He glances over at the birdfeeder he'd set up outside the window, a perfect spot for you to laze around and observe, "Did you see any cool ones?"

"One of them had yellow feathers on its chest," You muse, sharpened nails making quick work of untying his tie, "But other than that, just the regular ones."

"Maybe you'll see that pretty red one again soon," He recalls the bird you'd dragged him out of his home office to see, excitedly yowling about its stunning colors, "He likes the birdseed we put out."

You nod along absentmindedly, tail curling around his wrist as he supports you from below. A quick trek into his bedroom reveals that you're more than ready for the cuddle session you know is coming, a pair of pajamas already laid out for him. The clothes you wear are exclusively comfortable, a sweet pink nightgown already adorning your frame.

"These are your favorites," Aaron observes, plucking a speck of lint off of the black fabric of the shirt, "Are they softer than the rest?"

"No," You hum, already curling up near his pillow, blanket tucked to your chest, "They're the ones you wore the first time you let me sleep in here."

He stills from where he's shaking out the shirt, glancing up at you with his dress attire unbuttoned.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," You pick at one of your nails, tail curled around your waist, "I remember you were worried about it, you were all stiff and freaked out. But I just rammed my head into your chest and started purring, and you relaxed."

He doesn't realize he's smiling until he's trying to talk through the expression. He ducks his face so you can't see it, "Yeah. I remember that."

"Hurry up," You clearly don't realize what a sentimental moment he's having, or you just don't care, but it doesn't ruin the mood. Your whining only makes him go faster, and he gets a knee up on the mattress in no time.

"You're impatient," He chides, but there's no negativity behind the tease. He wraps his arms around you from where you're bundled up in the blanket, his smile soft and sweet as his hair flops over his forehead. You've spent many a night combing your nails through it to get him to sleep, and if your arms weren't just as tightly tucked in as the rest of you, you might try it now.

"I missed you," You whine, and it does the trick. He stops poking fun at you and tugs you closer, eyes slipping shut as his nose butts against yours. When he speaks the murmur of his voice flows through you, warmer than any sunspot you've ever had the privilege of lounging in.

"I missed you too, honey. Tell me more about your day," He pleads, a hand stroking smoothly and soothingly over your back, "Is that dog next door still taunting you?"

[mountain-in-springtime]

blue christmas

pairing: danny x reader | word count: 2.9k | warnings: so much angst, character death, vague/not super detailed description of a car accident, talk of grief | my masterlist

summary: danny finds it hard to cope when spending the holidays without you.

author’s note: so like ik it’s october but i was having a sad day and needed to cope. also this is like not really proofread at all so sorry.

*******************************************************

Danny sat in his car, staring at the empty street that laid out in front of him. At this hour, it looked like it could go on forever, and he felt more tempted than ever to pull away from the curb and drive as far as he could go, not caring where he would end up. His fingertips rested against the keys that dangled from the ignition, entertaining for one delicious moment the idea of revving his engine back to life and just letting himself disappear, but he instead removed them, hearing them jingle coldly against his palm as he pocketed the keyring. He brought his hands to the steering wheel, gripping it firmly as he closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh.

The car was dead silent, and Danny couldn’t tell if it was worse to sit in the unbearable loneliness it forced upon him or to enter the large brick home that awaited him. He knew that if he went inside, he’d have to smile and make small talk and listen to everyone else talk about their lives and their partners and a million other things he didn’t care about. He’d have to stand there and act like everything was fine. But at least he knew that was what he had in store. It was different in the car. In the car, there was no outside force to stop him from replaying old memories and agonizing over details that could never be changed. If he stayed in the car, he had no clue where his mind would take him, so between the unknown and the known, Danny chose the latter. He climbed out of the vehicle and shut the door behind him loudly. He walked around to the passenger’s side, grabbed the armful of presents he had wrapped the night before, and willed himself to walk up to the front door of the house and knock softly. He stood there for a moment, shuffling his feet awkwardly as he looked down and tried his best to juggle all of the presents he held. About a minute later, the front door swung open.

“Danny!” Jake’s voice rang out excitedly as he leaned forward, wrapping an arm around his brother’s shoulder and giving him a firm pat on the back. “It’s so good to see you,man,” he greeted with a genuine sincerity, “We were worried you weren’t gonna make it for a second there, bud.”

Danny let out a half-hearted laugh that he hoped was convincing enough as he nodded his head. “Yeah, I got a little held up in traffic. Sorry about that,” he said with an apologetic smile.

“No worries, man,” Jake replied as he shook his head in reassurance, “Listen, you can put the gifts out in front of the tree. Josh and Sam are in the kitchen making drinks, and everyone else is just kinda hanging out, alright?”

Danny nodded his head in response, giving Jake a quiet, “Alright,” before moving into the living room. The tree’s lights shone brightly, casting a colorful glow across his face as he bent down and made a neat pile of presents on the floor. As he got up, he turned to the small crowd of people that filled the room in front of him. He carefully moved his way past warm bodies full of bubbling laughter and holiday cheer, keeping his head down to avoid getting snared into an endless drone of small talk. He finally makes his way into the kitchen and is greeted by the smiling faces of his brothers.

“Daniel!” Sam’s voice boomed as he proudly held up a glass, the ice cubes in it clinking softly, “You gotta come try this!” He went to his best friend in a half-run, careful not to spill any of his drink. He held it up to Danny, all but shoving it in his face. The drummer laughed softly, taking the glass and sipping from it carefully. “No, come on, you gotta really try it,” Sam urged, pushing the bottom of the drink gently, forcing his brother to take a bigger sip.

Danny swallowed, feeling the warm burn travel down his throat, and let out a couple of stray coughs before nodding. “It’s good, man,” he assured, “Tastes very festive.”

“Right?” Sam answered with a large, lopsided grin, “I knew you’d love it! Josh and I just came up with it.” He turned back to Josh, who was finishing off his own glass. As he put it down, he turned to Danny with a bright smile and ran over to him.

“Hey, Danny!” he beamed, throwing an arm across his shoulder and pulling him into a tight hug. “Glad you could make it. You wanna join us?” he asked as he made a sweeping gesture towards the cluttered counter that was filled with different bottles and glasses.

Danny shook his head, holding up a hand in refusal. “No thanks. I think I’ll leave the bartending to the professionals,” he said, trying to keep his voice light.

Josh answered with a heavy pat on his brother’s back. “You’re missing out, Daniel, but I do appreciate your flattery of my bartending skills.” He let out a loud bark of laughter at his own joke before moving back to the counter, reaching across Sam to grab a near-empty bottle. He worked quickly and made a drink, holding it out to Danny. “Here ya go, Dan. Merry Christmas, buddy,” he boomed, his voice colored with playfulness.

Danny took the drink with a half-smile. “Thanks, Josh,” he quietly responded, politely sipping from the drink that was admittedly a little strong for his liking. He looked down at the ice swimming in the glass and felt his thoughts wander to drinks shared in warmer temperatures between even warmer kisses. A weight settled on his chest, and a long sigh drew itself from him.

“Hey, you alright?” Sam’s voice broke him from his daze, making his head shoot up to meet his friend’s concerned gaze.

Danny shook his head lightly as if he was trying to physically remove the thoughts from his head. “Yeah. I, uh, I’m just tired. Stayed up late, y’know?” He punctuated his response with a yawn, hoping to make himself believable.

Josh made a “tsk tsk tsk” sound, shaking his head dramatically. “Not smart for a growing boy, Daniel. You need your beauty rest,” he jokingly chided, which earned a small bubble from Sam.

His bandmate gave a soft laugh, replying lightly, “Sorry, Dad. I’ll do better.”

The response seemed to only encourage Josh’s behavior, as he immediately fired back. “You better, young man,” he scolded with a stern look that lasted only a moment before dissolving into a huge grin, followed by a loud fit of giggles.

Danny smiled softly at his friends' antics, trying to let himself cheer up. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off when his brothers both erupted in loud, unsynchronized shouts of “Jake!’, causing him to turn around, seeing the third member of the Kiszka trio enter the room. Jake let out a boisterous chuckle before pointing in the direction from which he came.

“Gift time, boys,” he said, “Everybody’s waiting on you jackasses in the living room.” His words sent Josh and Sam into a frenzy as they raced out of the kitchen, almost knocking each other over in an attempt to get to the living room first. The display pulled a wave of laughter from Jake and a small chuckle from Danny, who shook his head softly at his brothers.

Jake turned his head toward his friend and jokingly commented, “They’re gonna kill each other getting over there.”

Danny nodded in agreement. “My money’s on Josh,” he offered.

“I don’t know,” Jake countered, “You ever seen Sam when he gets that wild look in his eye?” He shuddered exaggeratedly. “Scary shit.”

Danny gave a half-hearted laugh. “Yeah, you got a point. Let’s go see if they’re still alive,” he mumbled, gesturing towards the doorway. Jake nodded in response and followed him into the living room. They took a seat near the tree, and Danny helped his brother hand out gifts, hoping to keep himself distracted and prolong the state of contentment he was finding himself in.

The time went by rather peacefully, or at least as peacefully as it could go with the Kiszka boys present. Everyone went around opening presents, exchanging kind thanks and words of appreciation. Danny had collected a modest pile of presents that consisted mostly of records and new drumsticks. Afterward, he and Jake collected the ripped and discarded wrapping paper, collecting it in a garbage bag to toss later. The big group of guests that had gathered around the tree were now split into smaller circles, chatting about the rest of their holiday plans and catching up. Danny watched them all talking and sharing niceties and felt a desperation to get away. He moved towards the kitchen, hoping to hide out with Josh and Sam again until it was an acceptable time for him to leave, but turned around when he heard his name called from the far corner of the living room.

“Danny, come here!” a tall, dark-haired man waved at him from across the room. He was some producer or executive that Danny had met a handful of times, usually seeing him at annual Christmas parties or things like that. He welcomed the drummer with a handshake and pat on the back as he stood beside him. “How the heck are you, man?” he asked, “I haven’t seen you in forever!”

Danny nodded, laughing politely. “Yeah, I think it was about this time last year. Merry Christmas, man.” He returned his pat on the back and gave him a subtle, friendly smile.

“Thanks, man,” he returned, “So how’ve you been? I know the band’s really taking off. Can’t be mad about that.”

“No, sure can’t,” Danny replied with a chuckle, “We’ve got some great stuff coming out in a few months. The guys are really proud of it.” He glanced at Jake, hoping to somehow get him to pull him away from this conversation, but he was without luck.

The man beside him nodded his head. “Well, shit, that’s great! I’ll be sure to keep an ear out for it!” he answered with a hearty chuckle. He then turned to the woman standing next to him, touching her forearm gently. “Oh, I forgot! You two haven’t met. This is my sister, Annie,” he said as she held her hand out to Danny.

“Hi,” he greeted with a smile, shaking her hand, “I’m Danny. Nice to meet you.” Her smile was warm, and she had eyes that closed almost entirely when she smiled. For a split second, they looked like your eyes, but he tried to push that thought from his head.

The man glanced at Danny before turning back to Annie. “Danny here is a bonafide rockstar. He’s the drummer for Greta Van Fleet,” he explained, earning an approving nod from his sister.”Don’t get any funny ideas, though. He’s spoken for,” he added with a laugh, and Danny felt himself immediately tense.

“Actually, I’m single,” he corrected meekly, an awkward half-smile forming on his face.

The executive’s expression turned to one of surprise. “Oh, god. I’m sorry, dude,” he apologized, “I didn’t know you two broke up. They seemed real nice.”

Danny shook his head. “No, yeah, they were. We didn’t, uh, we didn’t break up. They actually passed about a year ago,” he murmured, punctuating his sentence with a thick swallow.

The man pulled him into a quick, cordial embrace. “Oh, man. Now I really feel like an ass,” he groaned, “I had no idea. I hadn’t heard. What happened? If you don’t mind answering, that is. I don’t mean to pry.”

Danny gave his head a reassuring shake. “No, you’re good. It was probably about a week or two after last year’s party. They, uh, well, I was driving us up north to go see my family for the holidays. We were gonna fly, but we thought it’d be fun to do like a road trip thing. They were really big into roadside attractions and things like that. But anyway, the road was all icy, and this truck swerved in our lane. It came out of nowhere, and I couldn’t get out the way in time. I got a few scratches and one scar on my thigh that’s pretty bad, but, uh, yeah. They, uh, they didn’t make it. They were in a coma for about two weeks, but we kinda knew from the beginning what the situation was.” The words poured out of him, sharing more than he really wanted before he could even stop. Annie and her brother’s faces grew more sympathetic by the moment, and he wished that he had just lied and that you broke up, but that would’ve never been fair to you.

“I’m so sorry,” Annie offered, her voice quiet and holding an uncomfortable amount of pity, “At least they’re not hurting, you know?” She looked to Danny, hoping that her words were at least remotely comforting, but when she saw his face falter, she immediately interjected with an apology, “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ve heard that a million times. You’re probably tired of hearing stuff like that.”

He shook his head. “No. No, it’s alright. You meant well, and, uh, you’re right. I’d rather them be somewhere where they’re without pain, y’know? We actually scattered their ashes in the mountains. Drove to the smokies, made a whole day out of it, had a little service. It was, uh, it was nice. They would’ve liked it, I think,” he spoke quietly but firmly, nodding more to reassure himself than Annie or her brother.

“That sounds lovely,” she answered, giving him a sympathetic smile.

He returned the expression. “Yeah, it was. Listen, it was nice talking to you guys, but I gotta go help Josh and Sam clean up in the kitchen, alright? It was good talking to you, though.”

They knew that his excuse wasn’t the truth. It was a flimsy and poorly-timed lie, but they had enough decency to play along, nodding and wishing him a merry Christmas, promising to meet up before the next year’s party.

With a deep sigh, Danny finally moved past the living room, giving his head a small shake, hoping to rid himself of any tears that desperately wanted to spill. He took a deep breath and collected himself before walking into the kitchen, doing his best to put forth a believable smile. His brothers greeted him with warm smiles and shouts of his name as he entered the room.

“Hey guys,” He said with a small sigh, “I think I’m gonna head out, alright?”

His statement was met with a chorus of “boo”s from the boys. “Why so early?” Sam asked, a slight look of confusion on his face.

“I got a meeting in the morning,” Danny lied, “If I don’t get any sleep tonight, I’m gonna show up there looking like a zombie.”

“It’s not all about looks, y’know, Daniel,” Josh replied with a bubble of laughter as he came to hug Danny, kissing his cheek and bidding him farewell. Sam did the same, reminding his brother to not forget his gifts that were collected in a neat pile by the front door.

“I won’t,” Danny assured him as he pulled back from his embrace, “Can you guys tell Jake bye for me? I was gonna tell him myself, but he was talking to that guy from the record company that shows everyone all the pictures of his grandkids in his wallet.”

Josh and Sam winced in unison as Sam pouted slightly. “Poor Jakey. He’s gonna be stuck there for a while,” he laughed, “We’ll take care of it, Daniel. Get home safe, buddy”

“For sure,” Danny answered, nodding and waving goodbye before walking to the front door. He grabbed his stack of gifts with one hand and fished his keys from his pocket with the other. The cold night air stung his cheeks and the tip of his nose as he walked out of the house and to his car. He unlocked the door, placing his presents on the passenger’s seat before climbing into the driver’s seat and turning his key in the ignition. He instantly turned on the heater, feeling the chill from outside seep deep into his bones. He looked out at the same empty street again as he pulled onto the road and headed home. The closer he got to his house, the fewer city lights he saw, finding himself closer and closer to nature.

He looked out in front of him and saw the sprawling Tennessee mountains in the distance. Somehow, the night felt a little less cold, and he could almost swear that his passenger’s seat felt a little less empty, even if it was just for a moment. His heart took on a faint, aching lightness that it hadn’t held in a long time, and he reached forward, turning on his radio. The DJ’s voice rang out with holiday cheer, as the first notes of the next song rang out.

I’ll have a blue Christmas without you…

Danny reached over and shut the radio back off. He guessed there were some things he still wasn’t ready for. But that night when he laid in bed, he felt a little less alone for the first time in a long, long while, and when he drifted off to sleep, his mind was with the mountains and, more importantly, with you.

taglist: @westernwoods @sunfl0wer-power @gold-mines-melting @alwaysonthemend @andtherestishistory13 @writingcold @sunandthemoontwinflames @livkiszka (if you wanna be added to my taglist, send me an ask or dm me to let me know!!)

[lilyrizzy]

Okay for planr prompts - feel free to ignore this (obviously, of course, but it lessens my anxiety to reiterate it) - I am a little bit obsessed with this line from your last fic:

Max has had both of his parent’s numbers for years now, Daniel had given them to him in case of an emergency, in case Daniel got in a bad crash or got sick or something. He doesn’t think Max has ever used either number before today.

And I would love to see something where Max did call them about Daniel, for any reason. If that is a thing that would interest you as a prompt.

so I did actually write this on the plane & then totally forgot to post it for a bit, then wanted to try to make it better but ultimatley ran out of motivation. so sorry if it sucks!

cw: daniel is hurt (but he’s fine, eventually, i promise)

"Hello?"

Her voice is questioning but polite. She sounds like Daniel, except in the ways she doesn't, pitch too high, accent a touch too thick.

"Hello Grace," he says, and when she doesn't say anything, "it is Max. Verstappen, Max, I- Something has happened to Daniel."

"Max?" She says his name back to him like she has never heard it before, like he didn't share a team with her son for years, like Max doesn't share a bed with him now. Not that she knows the latter. "What do you mean?"

Max takes a deep breath, ready to repeat what the doctors told him, what he has practiced.  Eyes fixed on the rows of white plastic chair in front of him, he only gets as far as, "he has been hurt, he is in the hospital, he-" before she is interrupting, almost sounding angry.

"But you are not racing today."

She's right, of course; it is a Wednesday. But Daniel lying in a hospital bed has nothing to do with a car or a race track.

"It is not that, he- I think somebody was trying to take his watch, and maybe he did not want to give it to them, because- They- He is very hurt and right now, he is in the hospital." 

There is silence, and for a few horrible seconds, Max thinks he will have to say it all again.

Then she is gasping, saying, "no, no, no," terrible and sad, like how his own mum would sound when he would visit her and she saw he had a new bruise, only worse.

"Yes," Max says, feeling cruel, "and I think he would like for you to come. He-" Max's own voice cracks, and it's then he realises he's crying, that he has been since she picked up the phone.

"What happened, Max?" She asks, and he can hear her panicking movements in the background, the sound of keys jingling on a ring. "Who- Were you with him?"

Max shakes his head even though she can't see him, blinking furiously.

"No, but they called me, and I of course went straight away and-"

"They called you?" The background noise has been silenced, no more movement to be heard.

Max swallows. Stares at the clock on white wall, wanting to reverse the second hand. The minutes and hours too, while he's at it, to this morning, Daniel safe in their bed beside him.

"Yes, they- I am the person for Daniel, for incase of an emergency," he says, just as the arm ticks round to hit twelve.

She pauses, and those few seconds measure the weight of what Max has done. Now she will know, because there is no good reason for Max to be the person they call when Daniel is hurt instead of Michael or Blake, except for the truth of what they are together. He almost asks, 'is that okay,' because for that heart stopping moment, he realises it might not be.

"He is not awake right now," he says instead, desperate, "but when he is again, I think he would like it for you to be there."

Then there is the sound of a door opening, slamming shut. Grace calling out for Joe, muffled as though she is covering the phone with her hand.

"We will be there," she says, voice loud and clear again, as though one of them is waking from a dream. A nightmare. "Tell him mum and dad are on their way, and-" She hesitates and Max holds his breath.

"Look after our boy until we get there, okay Max? We will see you soon."

[bingbongsupremacy]

Wish You'd Make Me Cry

Pairing: Ellie Williams x reader

Warnings: Alcoholic Ellie, Arguing

Summary: From sweethearts to barely talking.

Idea from the song : Wish You'd Make Me Cry by UPSAHL

lmk if you guys want a Pt. 2? I have an idea of what to do but idk if I should make one.

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt.3

*Not Proof Read* TLOU Masterlist

*****

I don't know where it went wrong. Things used to be fine. It used to be us against the world. We could handle anything that was thrown at us. All we needed was each other.

For a long time, all we had was each other.

How things change.

Somewhere along the way things changed. We stopped talking. Stopped hanging out. Stopped being around each other.

We used to think we'd be together forever. A power couple. Ellie and I against the infected. Now we barely kiss. We're luck enough to pass each other when shifts change.

My keys jingle against each other as I open the door to the house. The only light comes from the lit fire cracking softly in the living room. I kick off my shoes by the door, shutting the door behind me.

Ellie's body is lazily propped up on our shared couch. She nurses a bottle of liquor she found in her right hand, her left one tucked behind her head. She always manages to find a bottle of fucking alcohol. She glances up as I walk in, barely moving. She sends a nod of acknowledgement my way before taking another swig from her drink.

I sit down on the chair across from her, my gaze on the fire ahead. Like hundreds of nights before, we sit in silence, staring at the burning flame. Every once in a while the slosh of her drink interrupts the rhythmic crackling of wood.

" How did we get here. " My voice breaks through the thick silence.

I look over at Ellie to see her eyes staring at me. Empty. They look empty. No light. No happiness. No joy. Just empty. Completely different then the eyes of the girl I knew years ago.

" I ask myself all the time, " I continue. " how the fuck did we end up here. "

Ellie doesn't respond. Instead, she takes another drink.

" We used to be all over each other. Now we barely talk. What the hell happened. "

I wait for her to respond. Her eyes return to the fire.

" Ellie. " I press.

" I don't know what the fuck you want me to say. " Ellie mutters. " Shit changes. People change. We got older. "

" I just want you to talk to me. " I let out sigh from frustration. This isn't the first time I've tried talking to her. She refuses to fucking talk, insisting we do it another time. Eventually she ends up retreating to the room.

Ellie lets out a frustrated breath of air. " Fuck, Y/N. We've had this conversation a million times. How many more fucking times do you want to talk about it? "

" I just want to have a conversation where you actually participate. " My heart begins to pound. Not like the pounding I used to get when I first saw Ellie. It's not from excitement, it's from anger.

" I DO participate. " Ellie's voice gets slightly more aggressive. " You just don't fucking listen. " She takes another drink.

My eyes narrow. " Can you talk without fucking drinking for five fucking minutes? "

Ellie's eyes snap to mine. Annoyance clouds her jade eyes. " Oh fuck you. " She stands up and heads towards the direction of the stairs. She's leaving again.

" Ellie. Ellie! " I call after her, beginning to chase after her.

Ellie snaps back around. " What the fuck do you want from me, Y/N?! I don't know what to do here! What the hell do you want! " She yells.

A shiver runs down my spine. This isn't the girl I fell in love with. " I just...I just want you to make me feel something. " I say quietly. " I want to look at you and I want to feel the same way I did five years ago. I want to be able to talk to you without you immediately running away from me. I want us to be able to look at each other for longer than three minutes. Fuck, Ellie, I just want you back. " My voice lightly cracks.

Ellie's hard eyes don't waiver. " I'm not the same person I was five years ago. You need to get that through your fucking head, Y/N. We never should've gotten married. You wanted that. Not me. "

With that, Ellie turns back around. Instead of heading upstairs, she slips on her shoes and coat. She slams the door behind her, leaving me alone in our dark house.

I sit down on our couch, staring down at my hands. The band that once sent warm feelings through my body when I looked at it, suddenly starts to feel like a heavy weight on my hand. The memories attached to the ring seem to haunt me the longer I look at it.

Without a second thought, I make a decision. I don't know where the fuck Ellie went, probably the Tipsy Bison, but when she gets back, I'm not going to be here. I'm not going to be stuck in whatever the fuck this is anymore. I've tried. I've tried so fucking hard.

I grab my shit and make it back to the door. I take one last look around the house before putting out the fire. Pictures of Ellie and I liter the walls. Pictures Ellie drew of me when we were dating lay framed on the mantel.

As the house is submerged into darkness, I can feel a piece of my heart break off.

We just weren't meant to be.

[raptorghost]

An Accident?

Vandertrees Drabble (credit to roominthecastle for gifs)

Inspired by gifs shown.

Flipping through her phone, Asta felt a sudden worry wash over her, staring down at the dimly lit screen the messages sitting there.

A - Hey, is your shift nearly over? I wanted to make us something.

H - Nearly done, clocking out and be home soon, stay sweet.

Harry had started ending their conversations like that 'stay sweet'.. reading it always brought a little flutter to her heart. But that last message popped up an hour ago, she knows it takes a little time to get home, but this was far off the usual time, and Harry is pretty good about being on time, especially when it involved getting a warm meal after dealing with patients and Ellen all day.

Somethings not right, Asta managed to get the tv to function, no less than a miracle with the age. But she flipped to the news channel, it was a touch fuzzy, but she could make out the images just fine. The voices on the scene, an accident?

"As you can see behind me, there is a red truck flipped on its hood, this blizzard is one that we recommend everyone to get inside, and stay inside." The news anchor spoke. Asta was aware of the oncoming blizzard, but it hit far sooner than she wished, and now her heart sank harder. Staring at her phone again, she curled on the couch a little, trying several times to ring Harry's phone. Nothing. Voice mail answering her each time, and with each time she grew more and more worried. The hour ticked by slowly, drawing her gaze away from the tv, shutting it off and dropping the remote beside her. She couldn't stand to listen another moment to the motor accident on the road, fearing the worse about Harry.

It felt like an eternity passed by before she was slowly wiping tears away, hearing the door to the cabin open and the jingle of familiar keys.

"Harry?" She finally called, pushing to stand as she stared at him, he was nearly covered in snow just staring back at her.

"Asta?.." He realised she had been crying, and quickly dropped his keys in the dish, shrugged off his coat and wandered closer to her. It was clear once he was close enough the fear in her eyes slowly melted away to relief. Before he could speak again, she was wrapping her arms around him, she didn't pull him in like usual, but he flowed with the movement and wrapped his arms around her in turn.

"I thought I lost you.." She finally muttered against his chest, the warmth of tears slowly soaking into his flannel.

He spoke nothing, not yet, instead he softly leaned back, pressing a gentle kiss against her brow, and lifting his hands to wipe the tears from her eyes.

"I won't leave you again, Asta.." His voice was soft, lacking the usual quirk he had, he was serious.

They stood together in the middle of the cabin for a while longer, Asta holding onto Harry, Harry holding onto Asta. When she was able to find her voice again, Harry gently eased her over to the couch, they sat there before the fireplace, Asta explaining that the news had spoken of the blizzard, of the accident, and she feared he was the truck flipped over. He assured her the opposite, that he saw the accident, and chose instead to help, speaking plainly. "I am a doctor after all."