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quin-ns · 11 months

Text

Fake Blood (Ethan Landry x Reader)

Word count: 5.6K

Summary: spoiler: the blood isn’t fake. alone in your apartment after your friends had been attacked, you ask ethan to stop by. he does in an unexpected way and you get more than you bargained for

Tags: (18+), friends to lovers, minor violence, knife tw, flirting, making out, virgin!ethan, virgin!reader, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, the ghostface robe stays on during sex, denial ab ethan being a murderer :) (if bad why hot?)

A/N: just watched scream 6 for the first time only a few days ago and couldn’t get this psycho out of my brain (tiktok edits didn’t help lol). timeline might be a little wonky but tbh it’s not relevant. also this follows the theory that ethan did the big apartment attack. I really wasn’t expecting this to be this long but it’s worth it yall I promise

cross-posted to ao3 • scream masterlist • main masterlist

As much as you liked Mindy, if you knew becoming friends with her would lead to you being integrated into her friend group of past and present serial killer victims, you might’ve thought about asking someone else to partner up with you for a presentation in your film studies class.

When you’d asked her, it was mostly to avoid having to accept an offer from a guy named Jason, who had always stared at you during that class and brought up the ‘Stab’ movies whenever he could (this was before you knew your friends knew him, but you still got a weird vibe from the guy).

She’d been excited to hang out with you after you two gave your presentation, and that’s how you wound up spending most days with her and her tight knit group of friends.

You were probably closest with Mindy, but you liked her brother too. For a guy named Chad, he was actually pretty chill. You got along with Tara as well, who was in a bit of a rebellious phase after being attacked and nearly killed, which you only learned about once they trusted you enough. Her older sister Sam was mostly cool too, but a bit overprotective. There was a gloomy aspect to her, but you supposed it made sense given that she was betrayed by her murderous boyfriend and now the internet peddled theories that blamed her for a series of killings in their home town of Woodsboro.

They had a tight bond, and even though you grew close with each of them, you knew you’d be an outsider. Like Tara and Sam’s roommate Quinn, Mindy’s girlfriend Anika, and Chad’s roommate Ethan. You all had shared multiple conversations about their trust issues. It must’ve been hard to even start to trust people after all that.

Out of all of the other “newcomers” as Mindy once put it, you got along with Ethan the best. He was a little quiet and sorta dorky (which your friends would tease him about a little—all friendly, of course) but he was fun to talk to. You guys liked a lot of the same stuff, including horror movies, and it didn’t hurt that he was cute.

In your opinion, with his curly dark hair and eyes to compliment, the whole “shy guy” thing was part of the appeal.

You wondered if he’d ever make a move, or if he even knew you were curious about him in that way. You wouldn’t go so far to say it was a crush for your ego’s sake, but you wouldn’t send him running off with his tail between his legs like you did with most guys.

Like that guy Jason from film class, who, just before Halloween, was killed alongside his roommate by a masked killer.

“Didn’t he have a thing for you?” Mindy asked you as you were all gathered around the TV, finding out the news together.

You were sitting crammed in a chair next to Ethan since the others had all taken up the couch space. He didn’t seem to mind, but it did unfortunately make it easy for them all to look your way and stare. You didn’t like the attention.

You were in shock at the news, especially when the anchor revealed Jason had also killed your film professor. Ethan pointed that out, saying if the guy was crazy enough to do that he might’ve even gone after you.

“Maybe the killer who killed him did you a favor,” Quinn suggested in response to Ethan.

The thought terrified you. You looked around the group. “Do you guys think he really would’ve hurt me? He seemed weird, not psycho.”

“We talked not that long ago, nothing seemed off,” Tara revealed with a grim look. “He asked if you and Sam were gonna come to the party.”

You hadn’t planned on going—what the hell would’ve happened if you had?

You exchanged a look with Sam, who seemed to have the wheels in her head turning.

You zoned back into the news as the reporter explained the mask found was a ghostface mask—like from the Stab movies. And of course, the actual Woodsboro killings.

“Pack a bag,” Sam told her sister, springing up to move around the apartment building.

Sam and Tara argued, which was a little weird to witness. You tried to sink back into the chair, while Ethan looked at you like he wanted to say something.

Hopefully it wasn’t “get out of the chair” because you didn’t think you could move.

The night ended with you going back to your little apartment alone. Your roommate was out of town and so your anxiety was on high alert.

A lot had happened that night apparently, including Sam and Tara getting attacked in a convenience store and them being questioned by the cops.

As much as you cared about them, you feared what would happen if you were with them.

That’s why the next night when you were invited over, you had been hesitant. A government paper was the perfect excuse, but you had FaceTimed with them so you all could keep an eye on each other.

You sat at your little desk, your laptop opened to work on your paper, and your phone propped up on your cup so you could talk to them hands free.

Apparently everyone was together at the apartment except Ethan, who told you he was studying in the library when you texted to ask him. You responded that you were working on a paper and that if he wanted to come over to keep you company, he could.

You’d spent some time alone with him, but not a lot when you really thought about it. It was always in the group—who were all murder suspects, according to Mindy’s movie rules.

You knew you weren’t the killer, and you had absolutely no motive. The others were still suspicious of you so that hurt a little (maybe that was another reason why you were keeping to yourself), but you did your best to understand that they weren’t just suspicious of you.

Everyone was a suspect, and no one was safe.

You felt even less safe when Mindy said she’d call you back. You didn’t know why she had to hang up so urgently, but you had a feeling it had to do with the emotional conversation Tara and Sam had been having in the background. You couldn’t make out most of it clear so you avoided mentioning it.

You sighed and checked your chat with Ethan. He hasn’t responded to your text. You were getting nervous now that you weren’t video chatting with your other friends anymore and the thought of being home alone didn’t bring you much ease.

You thought about just going over to the Carpenter’s (and Quinn’s) apartment, not wanting to bother Ethan further. Maybe he was ignoring you on purpose.

However, it was a far walk there. You didn’t feel safe making it alone at night—especially with a killer on the loose, likely targeting your friends. If you had a car, maybe, but you were a broke college student who could barely afford a place to live.

You sucked it up and double texted Ethan, this time asking if he could come over and that you were worried.

When he didn’t respond right away, you gave it a few minutes.

A little while longer passed and since you now couldn’t focus on your paper, you tried to call Mindy back. Then Tara. Then Chad. Then Sam. Then Quinn. Then Anika.

Not a single one of them answered.

You took a deep breath. Then, you went to double check that your door was locked.

You tried to call Ethan, but his phone went immediately to voicemail. It must’ve been dead or powered off.

That left no one else to call, and you felt more alone than ever.

You sat down at your desk and tried to focus.

You ended up going to your bedroom, putting on sleep clothes, and watching a comfort show under all your blankets instead, paper completely forgotten.

Your phone dinged from your bedside table and when you looked at it, you saw a message from Ethan. Only a few hours late, but he said he was on his way up.

That was sudden. You tried to not overthink being alone with Ethan too much.

A few moments later, there was a knock at your front door.

You climbed out of bed, not really caring that you were wearing sleep shorts and a baggy shirt. Your friends had seen you go to class in about the same when you had all night study sessions.

When you got to the door, you got a little nervous. But you knew it had to be Ethan, so you tried to push the anxiety aside and unlocked then opened the door.

You were met with shock and horror.

Towering over you in your doorway stood a figure in a black robe… and a ghostface mask.

You tried to slam the door, but the person caught it. You choked on a scream when they shoved their way in, holding a knife. There was a small stain of red on the metal blade and a darker, bigger mass on the robe.

Blood. Blood was red.

You scrambled back and tried to think of where to go. None of the doors in your apartment locked, not even the bathroom door.

Your heart and mind raced and suddenly you were spewing words.

“I don’t know what to say to make you not kill me, but I please don’t,” you rushed out.

The person—the killer—moved closer to you after shutting and locking your front door.

You ran, but there was really nowhere to go. The killer ran too. You tried to lure them to the bathroom and shove them in, but they dodged and had you almost within their grasp.

They didn’t slash the knife, though.

You ran for the front door, but the killer grabbed you by the arm. You were shoved back against your hallway wall and pinned. Your back slammed against the wall, but not hard. They held the knife to your throat—not too close, but it was still there and still kept you frozen.

“Are you gonna kill me?”

The words came out before you could stop them. You internally scolded yourself. That’s the kinda shit the girls who got murdered asked.

There was a laugh, and then a familiar voice.

“I’d never do that.”

By the time the killer reached for the mask and pulled it off, you still hadn’t processed your shock.

“Ethan?” you gawked up at him while he gave you a cheeky smile. He let the mask drop and the hand holding the knife fell to his side.

“You should’ve seen your face,” he said through a smile, excited eyes scanning your face for realization.

“Is this… is this a fucking prank?” you questioned, finally comprehending. “Ethan, what the fuck!?” You shoved him back by his shoulder, admittedly a little pissed. “You’re covered in blood!”

He stayed standing in front of you.

“It’s fake, I promise. It was just a joke,” he reasoned, looking a little guilty. “Y’know, cause Halloween and… alright, maybe my timing isn’t great.”

You scoffed out a laugh at that. “It’s terrible timing. There really is someone after us.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Ethan apologized with a small, apologetic smile. You stared at him, still surprised. He looked so innocent for someone that could pull off, let alone come up with, such a messed up prank.

“Is this where you’ve been? Dressing up to mess with me while there really is a killer after us?” You questioned, raising your brows and crossing your arms.

“Y’know, if there really is a killer after us, we probably shouldn’t let each other die virgins,” Ethan stated in a flirtatious way he easily could’ve played off as a joke. Maybe it was entirely a joke, but you played along in a different direction.

You scoffed. “And you’re just assuming I’m a virgin?”

He shrugged, the long fabric of his costume rustling. “I see how you are with guys. They want you, you never want them.”

“So what, I’m a tease?” you guessed, used to hearing that but a little disappointed to think it would come from him.

“No,” he clarified quickly. “But they’re just never good enough for you and you know that. Like that jerk Jason.”

You cringed a little at the mention of him, and then felt bad about that. The guy had been murdered, after all.

“Don’t say that, he’s dead.”

“So what?” Ethan asked plainly, surprising you a little. “He was a killer too. He could’ve gone after you, you should be grateful to whoever did it.”

You furrowed your brows. He was starting to sound like someone else. “Grateful?”

“It’s okay, you’re allowed to be.” Ethan’s expression as he spoke was one of reassurance. “You could’ve been next, you never know. He was one of those guys who couldn’t take a hint that he was beneath you.”

You had no idea he thought that way about you—that there were men he deemed unworthy. It was enough to distract you from the shift in his demeanor.

“And what? You’re saying you’re one of the guys who’s good enough for me?” you couldn’t help but wonder. You never thought about your dating history (or lack of) like that.

“Hell no,” he said, surprising you yet again. You were expecting a ‘yes’ with the way he was coming onto you all of the sudden, but what he said carried even more of a self-depreciating brand of charm. “But I’m hoping maybe you’ll pity the loser who’s had a hopeless crush on you for a while now and give him a chance.”

“You’re not a loser,” you said before you registered the rest of his words. When you did, you were taken aback at the confession. “But you’re not usually this… bold, Ethan.”

You wanted to ask him if something was wrong, but there was a lot wrong these past few hours.

“What can I say? I’ve been feeling more confident recently.”

You hummed, understanding that in a way.

“Maybe it’s the whole ‘we could die any second’ thing,” you ventured a guess.

He smiled to himself, like you’d just referenced an inside joke you weren’t a part of.

“Could be,” he agreed. He laughed a little and looked down at himself, then met your eyes again. “Sorry about scaring you. It was in poor taste. We both like horror movies… I don’t know, it was stupid.”

You scoffed, but you weren’t really mad anymore.

“I like horror movies, I don’t want to be in one,” you told him, eyeing the knife he held loosely in his right hand. “Is the knife real?”

“What?” Ethan asked, feigning confusion. He lifted the knife and examined it. “This knife?”

“Yeah, that knife,” you parroted back his playful tone. “You said the blood is fake, but is the knife real?”

A devious look crossed Ethan’s face. He held it to your throat slowly, holding it horizontally. You didn’t flinch, much to his pleasure. He seemed almost impressed.

“Gotta be authentic, right?” he mused, eyes flicking to your parted lips as you breathed steadily. “Can I kiss you?”

When his curious eyes looked back at yours, you couldn’t help but notice he still held the knife. The rush of excitement you felt scared you more than the fear of him letting it slip forward.

“What’s the knife for?” you asked with a surge of confidence, taunting him a little. “If I say no?”

Ethan laughed at that. He pulled it back and let it drop to the floor. It clattered against the wood, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. But it wasn’t from fear—it was from anticipation. Maybe your curiosity was a little more than that after all.

“You’re safe with me,” he assured. “Promise.”

His words felt layered, but in a way you couldn’t define.

Perhaps it was his way of saying he’d protect you. Maybe it was strange, especially given his entrance, but you found yourself feeling exactly that with Ethan. Safe.

Nothing was going to hurt you, certainly not him.

“About that kiss…” you started, giving him the indication that he was looking for.

Ethan took the hint and ran with it, lips crashing into yours in the blink of an eye.

His lips were soft, but the kiss was needy and hungry. You tried to move your lips in sync with his, but he was much more dominant.

A joke that you’d never say flashed by about him practicing.

It was easy not to laugh when Ethan’s hand threaded into your hair and his tongue began to explore your mouth.

The leather glove felt strange. It made you pull back a little, which you almost couldn’t do with the way Ethan eagerly chased your swollen lips with his own.

You glanced over his costume again. It looked really legit—when did he have time to get it? Was he actually gonna wear this for Halloween? You swore you remembered him and Chad talking about some other costume he made out of cardboard for the frat party.

Before you could spiral down that path, Ethan pulled the leather gloves off quickly and cast them aside. It was like he could read your mind. Both hands went to your face, pulling you to meet him halfway in another searing kiss.

You didn’t know what was coming over you, but whatever it was was causing arousal to stir in your belly.

You figured out the answer to that pretty quickly.

It was want. You wanted Ethan.

“Is the other offer still on the table?” you uttered softly when you and Ethan had to part for air.

He grinned, unable to contain it.

“Thought there was no way in hell that would work,” Ethan admitted a little breathlessly. “Thought I never stood a chance with you, but I liked you anyway.”

Ethan had a boyish charm about him usually, but now that was combined with a streak of deviance that you finally now noticed.

You weren’t expecting to be as intrigued by it as you were.

“Give yourself a little more credit,” you told Ethan, raising your hand to cup his cheek. He leaned into your touch a little. One hand rested on your shoulder and the other fell to hold your hip, tucking under your baggy shirt and rubbing your skin beneath. “You are pretty cute.”

Ethan’s smile only grew, but when you leaned in to kiss him again his lips met yours.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and guided the two of you to the ground with your back leaning against the wall. He was in front of you, on his knees, with you in his lap.

You ran a hand through his curly hair and you guided his lips back to yours. From what he’d revealed, Ethan hadn’t had a lot of experience with girls. It was a damn shame, because the boy was a great kisser.

His hand caressed your thigh as he trailed upward. You gave him a soft sound of encouragement when his fingers found their way to the waistband of your shorts.

“Is this okay?” Ethan asked, which made you want to grab him and kiss him again.

“Yeah.”

His hand slid into your shorts and your underwear.

One finger—you guessed middle—pushed inside of you. A small gasp escaped you at the intrusion and he watched your face.

Ethan was making sure the sound wasn’t of pain, which it wasn’t, and you appreciated that.

He withdrew the digit, then pushed in again. He repeated the motion a few more times before adding his index finger.

Ethan’s breathing grew heavy as he felt you squeeze around his fingers. He thrust and curled them inside you with rhythm. He managed to find one pretty quickly. That plus his thumb rubbing at your clit, you were falling apart in mere minutes.

Your brief orgasm rocked your whole body, leaving you clenching his fingers and quivering.

Ethan muttered things to you, but you could hardly hear over the sound of your own heart pounding in your ears.

Your head rested back against the wall as you caught your breath, still trembling from the aftershocks. Ethan withdrew his hand from between your legs and out of your shorts.

Your eyelids felt heavy, but in between slow blinks you saw him lift his fingers to his lips. You watched breathlessly as he placed them into his mouth and moaned at the taste of you.

No words would come out of your mouth, but he took rendering you speechless as a compliment.

“I’ve thought about that,” Ethan started, voice a little ragged. He was watching you, but his hand had moved off to the side. “What you’d look like… what you’d sound like… what you’d taste like.” The awe in his eyes as he spoke left you swooning.

“And?” you managed, sitting up a little straighter.

With the change in your angle, you could feel the bulge in his pants, even though the added layer of the costume he had yet to remove.

“You’re better than I ever imagined,” Ethan finished.

A scrape against the floor alarmed you. You looked to the sound and saw Ethan grabbing the knife off of the floor.

You watched as he brought it between your bodies. He first tucked it through the leg of your shorts, the cold metal sliding against your skin as it caught under your underwear as well. Then, he pointed the sharp side facing out. Finally, he sliced up through the fabric. You gasped a little as the cold air of the room hit your newly exposed skin. He did the same with the other leg, then pulled the tattered material away from your body.

You did the honors of pulling off your shirt. You didn’t have a bra underneath and you almost laughed at the way Ethan gawked at your fully naked body when you cast it aside.

“Your turn,” you told him. You were completely undressed, while he still wore the long, black disguise.

“Actually,” Ethan said a little eerily. There was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite pinpoint. “I was thinking I could leave it on?”

It was a question, there was room for you to say no. Maybe you should’ve, it was a little weird. But you weren’t really thinking about that. You were more focused on how badly you wanted Ethan to fuck you, and that clouded your brain.

“As long as you don’t put the mask back on,” you relented in a joking tone.

“You’re so fucking cool,” Ethan rushed out before slamming his lips into yours. The knife was cast aside again—you didn’t see it happen, but both of his hands were on your face.

You laughed a little against his lips, dazed and drunk on arousal. You didn’t really care about the logistics of it.

His hands moved down, but you were distracted by his lips dominating yours.

You heard the sound of his zipper being undone and he moved a little—you guessed shoving his pants down his thighs.

There was no time to look down because in a rush, Ethan was pinning you back against the wall with his body. One hand gripped your waist, holding you in place for him. The other was presumably guiding his cock to your entrance.

You gasped a little against his lips when he started to press forward while simultaneously pulling you down into his lap. The fabric of the costume draped over your thighs, blocking your view.

The stretch of his cock pushing into you was more intense than you could’ve predicted, but your whole body trembled with pleasure at the feel.

Finally, he either got too excited or lost his patience, and guided you down the rest of the way until he was fully sheathed inside of you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Ethan cursed to himself, body straining to keep from moving. His head dropped to your shoulder, heavy breaths hitting your neck. He leaned against you, forcing you against the wall.

His cock twitched inside of you and his body tensed, trying to hold back.

You panted slightly, trying to get your breath back. You ran a hand up his back and you felt him shiver. Your hand moved up the back of his neck and into his mess of curls.

You always liked Ethan’s hair.

You gave a small, barely qualifiable tug, but it had an effect. His body jerked, causing him to move inside of you. You gasped a little, but the motion felt good.

He lifted his head to look at you. His face was a little flushed and the lust blown look in his eyes made you quiver.

“You can move,” you whispered out, not trusting your voice.

Ethan didn’t need to be told twice. He secured the arm around your waist a little tighter and he put the other hand on the wall, giving himself leverage.

The slow drag of him moving out of you made you gasp for breath. The thrust back in knocked the air out of your lungs.

He set a quick pace after that, hips slamming eagerly into yours as the pleasure and excitement overwhelmed him.

It felt good, really fucking good.

Neither of you knew exactly what you were doing, but you were sure you’d figured it out because your whole body tingled with pleasure.

You cried out his name, which only spurred him on.

In a jarring movement you could hardly track, Ethan dragged you from the wall to the floor. He put himself on top of you, never once withdrawing from inside of you.

He watched your face as he pounded into you. Ethan had more leverage this way, able to grip your hip in one hand while the other held the top half of him off of you by being planted on the floor near your head.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, which you couldn’t see because the bottom half of your body was covered by the black costume. You hardly paid any attention to that aspect. You didn’t care that he wore it, not when you were this caught up in pleasure.

(In hindsight, you should’ve).

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Ethan breathed out, hips starting the stutter with every thrust.

The knot in your belly started to tighten as he buried himself into you over and over.

You couldn’t speak, your breathing was so labored as you reached to cling to him.

His head dropped down to your shoulder as he allowed more of his body weight to fall onto you. You found yourself enjoying the feel of him truly being on top of you.

You hardly noticed the fake blood smearing onto your bare skin. When you did, you were too gone to care.

You bucked your hips, meeting his stuttering thrusts. He was getting close to his edge and so were you. You moaned beneath him as his forceful thrusts sparked pleasure through your entire body.

“I’m close,” you managed to moan out against his ear.

“Oh, fuck,” Ethan groaned out, cock pulsing inside of you at the thought. He lifted his head enough to be able to watch your face. “Come again for me, please,” he panted out, nearly falling over the edge at the mere anticipation.

The begging was hot, and your body was already ready to give him what he wanted.

You noticed his eyes flicking down your body, seeing the red stains on your skin. That was quickly forgotten by you when your whole body began to tense and quiver. You held onto him tight as waves of ecstasy crashed over you.

You didn’t see his eyes linger.

Ethan couldn’t hold it together, not with the way your body tightened around him as your orgasm rocked you.

He collapsed on top of you, holding you against him as his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes were clenched shut as he frantically shoved his hips against yours, burying himself deep. His cock twitched, his whole body shivering as he spilled himself inside of you with a moan.

The sound of him alone was enough to prolong your pleasure as you rode it out, but the extra movement and the feeling of him filling you was an added bonus.

He kissed you hard on the lips, effectively pulling the air from your lungs.

After a moment, he found the strength to roll off of you, only to then drag you to his side.

“I can die a happy man, now,” he joked morbidly.

You shoved him a little by the shoulder like you had before, but not enough to actually make him go anywhere.

“Don’t say shit like that,” you argued weakly.

He flashed you a brief grin. “I meant it as a compliment.”

You rolled your eyes and did you best to laugh it off.

You lost track of how long it took you to move from the floor to your couch. The same thing happened between the time it took for you to get from the couch to your shower.

It was a tiny shower that couldn’t fit two people, so you rinsed off as quick as you could. You were tired, and your legs felt weak, and you knew you’d be sore in a way that would make it hard to keep calm tomorrow.

Whatever he had used for the blood, at least it washed off fast. You were able to finish up in a matter of minutes.

You threw on new pajamas and crawled into your bed, managing to tell Ethan to take however long he wanted and that he could stay over if he wanted.

You found yourself hoping he would.

You were nearly asleep when the shower shut off and Ethan finally joined you in bed. He was only in his boxers and a black t-shirt, which he must’ve been wearing under the costume robe.

A thought nagged at the back of your mind about the costume, wondering why he’d gone through all of that just to mess with you for a minute—albeit a terrifying minute. It didn’t seem like him, but then you remembered you’d only met him a few months ago.

You were so exhausted you fell asleep in his arms, not awake enough to care about all of the weird details. In fact, the only thing you could think about was how much you liked falling asleep with Ethan’s arms around you.

In the morning, you found out your friends had all been attacked.

You showed up with Ethan after the feed on your college’s chat app blew up with images of cops swarming and ambulances outside of Sam, Tara, and Quinn’s apartment.

Mindy seemed relieved to see you, but not so much when she realized Ethan was with you. Maybe she’d cleared you as a suspect in her head.

She yelled at him to stay back, accusing him of being the killer. Nobody was taking Quinn’s death well, but Mindy was especially heartbroken over Anika.

“Stay back!” Mindy yelled at Ethan, who did as she commanded.

Everyone turned on him then, even Chad. Everyone except you. They demanded his alibi.

“How do I know you’re not the killer, roomie,” Chad spit at him, amped up.

“I was with Y/N last night,” Ethan defended, holding his hands up in a small show of innocence, before you could say a word. “We were… preoccupied, alright?”

You wanted to elbow him for how he worded it, he couldn’t have been more obvious if he tried. It might’ve been on purpose, you weren’t sure.

He wasn’t close enough to do that, though, and now all eyes were on you.

“Yeah, he was with me,” you backed Ethan up.

You weren’t going to leave him hanging because it was the truth, but you knew what that implied, and so did your friends. They all shared subtle—but not unnoticeable—looks. Your face felt warm, while Ethan bit back a prideful smile.

“So you guys, um…”

“Chad, stop,” Tara scolded him before he could point out the obvious.

“Point is, we had nothing to do with this,” Ethan stated.

We?

They were suspicious of him, and now he was lumping the two of you together. There were always two killers in the movies—you began to doubt if the alibi would ease their anxiety or only spike it.

You thought back to when he had showed up to your apartment in that costume. He’d scared you, but you accepted it when he told you it was a joke that he mistakenly took too far.

It made you wonder. What if it was him?

If he wanted to hurt you, he easily could’ve. That didn’t seem to be his intention. What was? Seeing how much he could scare you? Get your heart rate up? Seeing if you wouldn’t believe him?

Or was it seeing if he could put the evidence right in front of you and have you ignore it because of a crush?

Fuck. Maybe it was some weird combination of all. Were you that gullible? Or were you overthinking it now?

Your brain struggled to come up with a conclusion.

You wanted to believe Ethan was innocent. You really, really did.

It was easier than believing you had slept with a killer. Or potentially worse, that you had feelings for one.

Ethan gave you a slight, assuring smile.

Your head told you one thing, but your heart told you another.

Maybe you shouldn’t have, but you kept your mouth shut and gave him one back.

#quin-ns writing #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #scream #scream 6 #ethan landry smut

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daddy-dins-girl · 6 months

Text

First Date: Frankie Morales

HAPPY FRANKIE FRIDAY Y'ALL!

Masterlist

AO3 link

Frankie Morales x f!Reader

Summary: Based on this tumblr Ask. A full one-shot based on a quick little headcanon drabble I wrote about what a first date with Frankie Morales might look like. There's a little of backstory for Reader because it's me and you know I just can't help myself.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Fluff and smut (because we like to strike a delicate balance here). Porn with a sprinkle of plot (again, delicate balance). Cuteness overload during your date with Frankie (sign me up for this date please). Heavy makeout session. Mutual masturbation. Fooling around in the back of Frankie's truck because of uh... reasons. Read to find out! I think that's it for warnings. As far as my stuff goes I'd say this is pretty tame? lol. But if I missed anything lmk!

Notes: I hope there aren't any glaring mistakes here. If I find any I'll come back and edit. Tbh I wrote 99% of it on my phone because our wifi was down for THREE DAYS here (RIP me!). It finally came back this morning just in time for me to post this for Frankie Friday ❤️

You tap your phone’s screen to illuminate it and check the time for probably the fifteenth time in as many minutes to make sure you’re not running late yet as you stand over the bathroom counter putting the final touches on your appearance, wanting to look perfect for tonight. Nerves flutter in your tummy like butterflies and you have to constantly remind yourself to calm down, take it easy.

“It’s just Fish, nothing to get yourself all worked up about” Benny had offered earlier, unhelpfully.

Sure, to your cousins Benny and Will it was just their longtime friend and military buddy, but to you it was the very cute, though very shy, sweet guy that you had met for the first time only recently since you came to “temporarily” crash at your cousins place.

Temporarily had turned into three months far faster than you anticipated. You needed a fresh start, to get out of a not great situation and it was actually your Aunt who had suggested the move to you during your phone call to her on her birthday. Your mother had already been filling her ear with your personal drama it seemed and though she didn’t want to pry, she did want to help and she suggested getting away for even a couple of weeks, that her sons had lots of room at their place and would be happy to have you for a while. After a few phone calls with both Will and Benny they had settled any doubts you might’ve had and welcomed you with open arms when you showed up at their doorstep with little more than a single roller suitcase and a small potted plant under your arm. It was about all the possessions you had left after the less than amicable split with your ex that left you couch surfing at your friends for months before the transition to Will and Benny’s.

So now here you stand, in the bathroom of the guest bedroom you have been calling your own for three months, getting ready for a date with the painstakingly handsome pilot himself, Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales.

You know how badly your cousins have been teasing you about the date, you can’t even begin to imagine the ribbing Frankie must have been taking from them since he’d asked you out last Sunday at a barbecue Will and Benny had been hosting and they’d somehow gotten wind of it. You’re surprised Frankie even kept the date, to be honest. Your cousins, you love them with all your heart, but they can be… a lot. You’re very glad Frankie didn’t back down to the pressure though. You’d seen him a fair bit in your few months here and have been dying for him to finally ask you out. You’d flirted enough and though he’d been quiet and shy in the beginning, the more you got to know each other, the more he seemed to come out of his shell around you.

So now here you were, moments before Frankie was due to show up at your door and you silently cursed yourself for not being as ready as you should be. You wanted to be ready and standing outside by now so that Will and Benny couldn’t get any more jabs in to poor sweet Frankie if he had to stand at the door waiting for you, but as you pull on the short, light denim jacket over your sundress you hear a bark of laughter from Benny and already you know you’re too late.

You quickly press some lip gloss on, run your hands through your hair to make sure it’s falling exactly how you want it to and then take a deep breath in the mirror and quickly scurry out of the bedroom to hopefully save the man that is standing outside on the porch.

“No keeping her out past curfew, no drinkin’ and drivin’, no crazy parties or gettin’ too handsy on the first date”

Benny is listing things off on his fingers to poor Frankie like he’s your father scalding your prom date and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Will, you said you’d both be nice” you complain out loud to the older of the two brothers. Will wasn’t much better, but sometimes talking to Benny was like talking to a toddler amped up on a pack of Skittles, there was no getting through when he got over excited about something.

The most ridiculous part about it was that you and Benny were about the same age so it was a little comical, though sweet in his own way, how he tried to ‘big brother’ you.

“Ah c’mon Ace, we were just joshin’ him a bit” Will replies, bright white smile gleaming at you with a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes.

Ace of course being the nickname they had stuck you with since you were old enough to remember. Any family event you’d ever attended whenever there was any sort of game or sport going on the two boys always ensured you were on their team, likely because you were the only one close in age to them but you liked to tell yourself that it was also because the three of you always had fun together. They have always been so competitive and any time they won (largely due to their own efforts) they were sure to tell everyone that it was all because of you, that you were ‘the ace up their sleeve’ even when you barely did anything. Hell most softball games you preferred to sit in the grass picking flowers while they ran circles around you like pro athletes, but it was sweet how they always made sure to include you and make you feel good about yourself.

“Well we agreed you two goons wouldn’t scare him away” you remind them with a playful roll of your eyes and a swat to Benny’s shoulder when you finally reach the doorway.

You can see Frankie’s appreciative gaze roam over you from head to toe and as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and nervously adjusts his ball cap you know he’s itching to say something to you but probably weighing the pros and cons in his head about the two extra sets of ears hearing what’s meant only for you and so you decide for him. You shove past your two cousins, quickly tell them you love them and not to wait up and push them far enough back in the house so you can slam the door shut, finally leaving you on the porch with just Frankie.

“Hi” you breathe out, a smile spreading across your lips. He looks casual but deliciously handsome in a pair of dark tan khaki pants and an untucked light blue button down with the sleeves rolled up, putting his tanned and muscular forearms on display. He still has his infamous Standard Oil hat on, hints of chocolate brown curls peeking out from underneath it. You don’t think you’ve actually ever seen him without it, come to think of it. You try to picture him without it and an image just doesn’t come.

“You look beautiful” he tells you, a hint of shyness in his tone and a blush rises in your cheeks that didn’t come from a makeup stick.

“Thank you. I’m sorry about tweedle-dee and tweedle-A-D-D in there” you joke, gesturing a thumb over your shoulder at your two cousins who are currently fighting each other over who gets to look through the small pane of glass next to the door to watch your interactions with Frankie on the front step.

“Unfortunately I’m very used to it” he quips, giving you a warm smile. “Shall we?” He asks, sweeping an arm out towards his truck idling at the curb and you nod your head and lead the way.

Before you reach the truck however Frankie jogs up behind you to brush past and ensures he reaches the passenger door handle before you do and opens it wide, offering you a hand to help you up and inside. You both decide to ignore the whooping yells and hands slamming on the glass next to the door at the top of the walkway behind you.

“Let’s get the hell out of here, shall we?” You offer once Frankie’s climbed into the driver's seat next to you and he chuckles but nods his head.

“With pleasure” he agrees and pulls the truck away from the curb.

You’re driving for nearly an hour. Frankie had apologized already on several occasions, admonishing himself for not preparing you beforehand to make sure you wouldn’t be too hungry when he picked you up. You tell him it's fine countless times but he still admits he should’ve discussed his plan with you ahead of time.

“Hey, if what you say is true and these really are the best tacos I’ve ever had, you’ll not only be forgiven but I’ll be glad I was ravenous by the time we get there” you tell him and finally he seems to accept it and offers you a small smile, hand going to the dial on the radio to turn the classic rock tunes up just a little bit for the last few minutes of your drive.

The drive is nice. The ocean follows along in your journey when you look out your window and the way the sun sits in the sky you know it’ll be threatening to set not long after you arrive at your destination. Truth be told you were a little nervous when you first started driving and Frankie mentioned how long the trip would be. You worried that you wouldn’t have much to chat about or that it might get awkward but it had been anything but. Besides Frankie’s little bouts of anxiety about whether or not he should’ve mentioned to you what time you’d actually be eating, everything was going better than you had expected. The conversation seemed to flow easily between the two of you. You had enough jumping off points, with both of you having more than your fair share of stories or anecdotes about Will and Benny. You shared stories of your youths while Frankie caught you up on some of the more recent goings-on with them that you hadn’t been privy to since, before recently, you obviously spent a lot less time with them in your adult years versus the childhood ones. Before long the conversations shifted more to yourselves and your own personal lives and before you knew it Frankie was pulling the truck into a crowded parking lot in front of the beach.

You make your way through the throngs of people on the boardwalk, Frankie’s warm hand on your lower back a steadying presence as he guides you through the crowds towards the brightly painted green and yellow food truck off in the not-too-far distance. Your mouth is watering already and you’re not sure whether it’s for the tacos or the man on your left with the broad shoulders and thick arms but a gentle, calming touch.

If you had to venture a guess, it would be for the latter.

Frankie, to his credit, was absolutely right about the tacos. You’re halfway through your third one when you finally tap out and call it quits, unable to possibly stomach another bite - despite how delicious they are.

“I can’t. I want to, but I can’t” you admit defeat to what’s left of your dinner, tossing your napkin on top of your paper plate and holding your hands up in surrender and the corner of Frankie’s mouth curls up into a smirk.

“They’re good right?” He grins at you from across the picnic table while he stuffs the last bite of his own into his mouth and you roll your eyes dramatically at how good in fact they were.

“They were amazing, seriously. Well worth the drive and the wait” you tell him sincerely and then before you can talk yourself out of it you reach across the table to place your hand on top of his and give a little squeeze with your fingers.

“Thank you for dinner. I’m um… really glad you asked me out tonight”

That confession earns you an ear to ear grin from Frankie who swallows down the last bit of his dinner and then turns his hand palm-up so he can hold your fingers in his grasp.

“Me too. But, the night’s not over” he offers with a playful quirk of his eyebrow.

“There’s more?” Your brow line lifts to your forehead. “I’m going to need a few minutes to digest first” you laugh, placing a hand over your stomach and Frankie chuckles but nods his head in agreement.

“Take all the time you need,” he tells you.

The sun is beginning its descent from the sky as you sit at the table a while longer, happily chatting about everything and nothing. You ask Frankie more about his young daughter and can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips the way his face lights up when he speaks about her or shows you his favourite pictures or videos of her on his phone.

With your food finally settled you’re back to wandering the boardwalk again with Frankie leading the way. He stops you at an ice cream truck and you groan at the idea of having to shove more food into your stomach but the childish grin and teasing nudge to your side with his elbow convinces you to take him up on his offer anyway and you ask for small scoop of the bright orange Tiger Stripe flavour in a dish while Frankie opts for a waffle cone of classic Mint Chocolate Chip.

With no small effort you manage to finish the sweet dessert and toss your garbage into a nearby receptacle and Frankie nudges your shoulder with his and gestures with an outstretched arm towards the beach.

“Wanna go walk it off?” He suggests and you give him an easy smile, more than excited about taking a romantic walk down the beach at sunset with him.

The warm sand squishes between your toes as you walk the length of the beach. Frankie had insisted on carrying your shoes for you when you opted to take them off; the strappy sandals hanging from the fingertips of his right hand while his left brushes experimentally against the back of your right and you turn your palm towards him and he wastes no time taking hold, your fingers interlacing. You smile and press a little closer into his shoulder.

“This is perfect” you sigh as soft waves lap at your feet and the sun bids it’s final adieu for the evening, disappearing just past the horizon on the other side of the ocean.

“So I did good?” Frankie smirks at you and you let out a little laugh, nodding your head.

“Ten out of ten would recommend” you answer without hesitation.

“Recommend to who? If you think I’m taking Benny on a date next you’re poorly mistaken” he jokes and it earns an outburst of laughter from you as you grab onto his forearm with your free hand and lean further in still.

“You guys could make a pretty cute couple” you tease and he rolls his eyes, shaking his head in laughter.

“Already got the prettiest Miller on my arm, thank you very much” he affirms and your giggles die down as the blush re-emerges and you turn your gaze down to the sand at your feet and squeeze his arm just a little tighter as a thank you to his easy compliment.

You walk a little while longer, your fingers still entwined and your free hand wrapped around his arm that’s holding your hand, snuggling as close as possible while you continue to chat and joke and tease each other.

Being with Frankie seems so easy. Normally you were so nervous during first dates and it’s been so long since you’ve actually been on one you could barely remember what it normally feels like but you’re certain it’s never felt like this. You felt comfortable. And maybe a lot of that had to do with the fact that you’ve already met with and hung out with him on numerous occasions now there was less to be nervous about. But you think it’s mostly him. He’s so easy going and calm to be around; he just puts you at ease with one upward curve of his lips or the way his soft brown gaze seemingly bores into your very soul with a single look.

Besides that, you knew he must be a pretty decent guy or Will and Benny would’ve had something (aside from friendly teasing) to say about it. They were the big brothers you never had growing up, always looking out for you until your lives took you all down very separate paths and if they trusted Frankie with you, you knew you were in good hands.

Hands that were currently, mind you, smoothing up and down your sides as Frankie pressed you into the passenger door of his pickup as you stood on the street outside your temporary home saying your goodnights.

“Kiss me” you breathe into the limited space between your two bodies that are thrumming with unspent energy.

Not bothering with a verbal response, Frankie closes the distance between you, his lips capturing yours finally for that first kiss you’ve been craving since he picked you up hours ago. He tastes like mint and chocolate, and although normally it would be one of the last options you go for at the ice cream shop, the way it tastes on Frankie’s tongue instantly makes it your new favourite.

The energy in the cab of his truck the whole ride back had been tangible, his right hand on your thigh, yours trying not to dig into the plush material of the seats as you tried to focus your mind on anything other than ordering him to pull the truck into park so you could crawl into his lap and thank him properly, the way you wanted to so badly.

“Hermosa,” Frankie groans, his mouth trailing now from your lips down your jaw and to the side of your throat as his hands grip your hips. The scruff of his beard brushes the delicate skin of your neck when he nuzzles further into you and heat instantly pools in the lower part of your belly, causing a little moan to slip out. You feel your breath quicken, heart rate speeding up to keep pace with Frankie’s that you can feel through your clothes with how closely he’s pressed against you. Your arms raise to wrap around his neck, hands playing with the soft curls at the back of his head, running your fingers through them (something you’d been dying to do since the first time you met him, if you’re being honest with yourself).

“Should’ve taken me back to yours” you whisper against his ear as he continues to nip, lick and kiss at your throat.

“Santi’s on my goddamn couch” he groans, annoyed.

You remembered, now that he’s said it. Santiago, another military buddy of your cousins that you’d met a few times and one of Frankie’s best friends, had been having problems with his girlfriend and a week ago she had actually kicked him out of their shared apartment and with you taking up residence in Will and Benny’s guest room, that left Frankie’s couch.

“Shit” you mutter. You don’t dare take him inside to your room. Though the house looks dark and the boys are probably asleep, that’s not something you’re going to chance. At least not on a first date. You don’t need their judgment, nor do you need Frankie holding anything back from you due to the unfortunate circumstances.

His mouth is back on yours, unable to stay away from it for long it seems. His tongue pushes inside and strokes alongside yours, causing a little shiver to run down your spine. He licks into your mouth, exploring every cavern and swallowing all your little whimpers and whines. Frankie was an amazing kisser. You can’t help but wonder how talented his tongue may be elsewhere; the thought alone sending a fresh wave of arousal through you and causing another moan to slip out which Frankie responds to with one of his own. His right hand leaves your hip and goes to your thigh next, gently raising your leg off the ground to wrap around him and a gasp escapes you when his hand slips under the hem of your dress and trails upwards towards your hip.

“Fuck, Frankie” you breathe, pulling back just enough so you can start peppering kisses to his strong jawline.

“Tell me to stop, fuck, you need to tell me stop” Frankie pleads. You can feel his obvious desire for you pressed into your stomach as his left hand moves down to grope your ass and pull you even closer against him.

“Mmm, don’t want to” you hum into his throat and he groans in desperation, rocking his hips into you and causing a delicious bit of friction where you need it most. Your whole body is tingling, feeling like you could combust at any moment. Your muscles are tense, hands fighting for purchase on any part of him they can grab onto, eager to keep him from convincing himself to pull away from you.

Just when you feel him begin to pull back you do the only thing that comes to mind and turn in his grasp and reach for the back passenger door of the crew cab, swinging it open and pulling him back towards you by the collar of his shirt.

“Fuck, Sweetheart” he stops dead in his tracks, feet outside on the ground still while your ass hits the back seat so you’re seated sideways on the seat, facing him.

“Look, I might not be up for Gentleman of the Year Award or anything, but I’m not… I can’t have our first time be in the back of my truck. You deserve so much better than that”

Your brain doesn’t miss how he says ‘first time’ like it implies that there will be more times, and god you hope there is. And while you don’t disagree with him that fucking in his car like teenagers isn’t maybe the most romantic way to do this, you still need something and you don’t want this night to be over yet.

“Just… come fool around with me a little bit” you shrug, coy little grin tugging at the corners of your lips and you see on his adorable face the moment his resolve crumbles. He’s hopping up into the truck in a flash, slamming the door shut behind him. He pushes you back onto the bench seat so you’re flat on your back and finally rips his hat off his head and tosses it carelessly somewhere to the floor and you’re in a fit of giggles at the playfulness of it all. The laughter dies on your lips however when he’s kneeled before your spread legs and drags your knees up to his hips and presses himself down on top of you, capturing your mouth in a heated kiss while his lower half grinds into yours.

“Is this OK?” He murmurs into the side of your face as his kisses trail towards your throat.

“Mmm hmm” you nod frantically. “More than OK” you promise.

He hums into your throat and brings his right hand to your breast, his large hand covering the mound and gently massaging the soft flesh, kneading and squeezing just right as your little moans and the way your back arches to push your chest further into his touch encourages him.

“Fuck,” he growls before shoving the front of your dress and cups of your bra down so he can get his mouth on bare skin.

He pulls away from your throat and shuffles down slightly, leaning down to swirl the tip of his tongue around the pert bud and then gently pull it into his mouth. He alternates between sucking it into his mouth and teasing with quick flicks of his tongue while nimble fingers pay the other equal attention and you writhe underneath him, grinding into his leg, desperate for any friction you can create.

“Perfect tits” he mumbles into your skin before his mouth switches sides. Your hands are in his hair, gently tugging and scratching over his scalp and the way he occasionally groans and grunts at your actions you know he likes it. You wish you weren’t shoved inside the back of his pickup right now. Oh the things you would let his mouth do to you if you weren’t…

After long minutes of attention spent on your breasts his mouth is finally back on yours. He moans into you when his tongue wraps around yours again and you decide to play a little dirty yourself and wrap your lips around his tongue and suck it into your mouth, just for a moment and then you release. You feel his hardened cock twitch against your hip when he grinds it into you.

“Tell me what you want, Baby” he asks between ragged breaths as his lips create a hot trail of open mouthed kisses down to your collarbone.

You decide to show him, rather than tell him, and reach for his right hand and bring it underneath your dress to the aching need between your thighs and he practically growls into your throat when he feels the damp spot that’s already formed on your panties.

“Oh my god” he groans, taking his first two fingers and rubbing your lower lips over the soft, soaked lace.

“Oh fuck, Frankie, you feel so good” you whine, not caring how wrecked you sound already.

His mouth covers yours again, his kiss hungry and needy as his fingers bravely dip under the waistline of your panties to finally touch your naked sex and push through the warm slick folds.

“Oh my god, make me come baby, please. Fuck.” You beg, your hands wrapping around his neck again and grabbing on for dear life. It’s been far too long and Frankie is quickly unraveling you into a mewling desperate mess.

“I’ve got you, Hermosa” Frankie promises, his breath hot against your ear now and you don’t doubt that he does. His skilled digits are already driving you crazy and he’s barely begun. Maybe it’s because it’s been a while, or maybe Frankie just really knows his way around a pussy.

He plunges two fingers inside of you and you cry out at the welcomed intrusion, whimpering into his shoulder at how he’s nearly got you undone already.

“God you feel fucking amazing” he groans into your heated flesh.

“Fuck Frankie, don’t stop, please” you whimper.

He doesn’t. His fingers continue their torturous assault, pumping in and out of you and occasionally coming out to rub tight little circles around your small bundle of nerves that causes your arm to shoot up in the air, palm of your hand pushing hard against the ceiling of the truck cab as your impending orgasm lingers threateningly.

“Let me touch you, please” you beg and Frankie growls in response before his free hand goes to his pants and nearly rips them open so he can push them down to his thighs and your hand immediately wraps around his throbbing length.

“Holy shit” you breathe. Your fingers failing to quite reach all the way around his impressive girth. He’s warm and heavy in your hand, precum steadily leaking from the head that you gather in your hand to use to coat down the rest of his length.

“Christ” Frankie grunts, unable to stop himself from thrusting his hips once to fuck into your hand. “Shit I’m sorry it’s um, been a while” he confesses shyly and you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“For me too” you tell him, easing his nerves. “God Frankie, I’m so close”

With that he pulls his hand away from you for only a moment, bringing it to his mouth to wet his fingers with his tongue and then they’re back on your clit, experimenting between rubbing and circling and pressing and even lightly pinching until he finds out exactly what makes you squirm under him and he doubles his efforts, working you faster and faster with the pads of his fingertips until you’re coming hard and fast with his name on your lips as you rock into his hand to chase the pressure of his touch.

“Oh fuck, that’s it” Frankie groans into the hollow of your throat, his fingers sticky and slick with your release. “God you’re so beautiful” he praises, pressing kisses to every inch of flesh he can reach.

His fingers continue to languidly stroke through your folds, easing you down from your high while his own breathing picks up at your continued actions below; practiced strokes of your hand wrapped around him while your thumb occasionally ghosts over his slit, gathering the evidence of his arousal and smearing it all over the thick and sensitive head.

“Fuck, I’m close” he warns, eyes screwed shut in concentration, his forehead now resting against yours. “Fuck!” He curses again and then quickly sits up on his knees, causing your hand to fall away from him and he takes himself in hand to finish himself off, not wanting to make a mess all over you or your pretty dress. Not having much option he yanks his shirt up instead and coats his own stomach with white hot ropes of his release until he’s left heaving and panting on his knees before you, free hand clutched tight on your knee beside him, fingers digging in deep enough you think they’ll leave bruises.

You’ll wear them like a badge of honor.

“Shit,” he breathes and then huffs out a little laugh. His eyes dart around for a moment and then he reaches into the little pocket on the back of the front passengers seat and pulls out a somewhat squished little pack of wet wipes (one of the conveniences of having a small child you presume, always lots of supplies around that adults might not otherwise think of keeping handy) and grabs a couple sheets and wipes up the mess he made of himself before shoving the wipes back into the pocket. You’re staring up at him, tip of your pointer finger between your teeth and a coy grin playing on your lips.

That was by far the absolute hottest make out session you’d ever had. Where has Frankie Morales been all your life, and what had you done to deserve him now?

“Are you still OK? That was… OK?” He asks and it’s sweet how he doesn’t even know how badly he just rocked your whole world.

“Ten out of ten would recommend” you retort teasingly, lifting your foot to push gently at his hip and he rolls his eyes playfully and lands a little swat to your thigh.

“Smartass. Maybe I oughta trade you in for Benny after all” he quips. “Get a lot less lip I bet”

“Hmm, but probably a lot less tongue too” you tease right back and he groans as you yank him down on top of you by his collar once more.

You’re not quite finished with Frankie Morales just yet.

Taglist: @yorksgirl @chronically-ghosted @rav3n-pascal22 @suzdin @boliv-jenta @senaar-ika @nerdieforpedro @theywhowriteandknowthings @within-the-depths @axshadows @iamasaddie @macabremads @prolix-yuy @vickywallace @survivingandenduring

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#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #triple frontier #frankie morales x you #frankie catfish morales #frankie friday #frankie morales fanfiction

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nicomundthered · 1 year

Text

Blood Runs Cold

Injured Trilogy- part one | part two | part three

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

summary: you save Ellie, but not yourself.

tags/warnings: hurt/comfort, this one is angsty, blood and descriptions of injury, I'm not a doctor, also don't know a thing about nature apparently, established relationship, happy family, drowning, fear of water, way more spice than intended it just happened- though nowhere near explicit.

word count: 10k | ao3

a/n: had to edit this twice and tbh I just need it finished, so please forgive the mistakes. part three might take a little longer...I’m having quite the anxious episode but enough of that, hope you enjoy!

masterlist

It took a while for you to recover, but you had. Well for the most part. Your hand was the only lingering problem.

The doctor had done what she could for it but without the proper technology and equipment–even after the mostly successful surgery, it would never be the same again.

You had diligently followed the physical therapy exercises she gave you and weeks later, you could now make a fist and your grip strength was improving. The process was long and if you were being honest you were getting impatient. You were just thankful that it was your non-dominant hand because it was still frustratingly weak and uncoordinated in comparison. The doctor had confirmed that it would probably always feel that way. You'd be lying if you said that that didn't upset you, not that you weren't grateful to be alive–it just really sucked.

Joel was different though. While you were a little depressed and frustrated, Joel seemed to be almost obsessing over it. He would inspect it every morning, seeing how the two deep scars from the surgery were healing. Then he would ask a couple times a day if you had completed your exercises. And he was also overly protective of it. He'd fuss anytime you picked up anything or when you'd tell him that you were ready to go back to work. The two of you argued over it quite heatedly more than once.

One day, a couple weeks ago now, after he finished his patrol he returned his gun and gear, and checked in with Tommy for the next day's schedule.

Tommy and Maria were in a deep discussion and when they saw Joel, Tommy bowed his head and Maria straightened, both looking extremely suspicious.

“What happened?” Joel asked concerned. He somehow knew it was about you.

Maria admitted that due to your tenacity, she had put you on light cleaning duties. That you had begged to have something to do, and that after a couple of hours you had grown frustrated from the weakness in your hand, which had cramped causing you to drop a plate. It shattered all over the ground and when you could only use your good hand to pick up the small pieces, it had sent you over the edge.

You didn't listen to anyone and you'd picked up the sharp pieces using only one hand and it had cut you up. You did so with tears in your eyes and then you left without saying a word, hand covered in blood.

He quickly left, hurrying to you as fast as his feet would carry him.

When he came home he found you in your shared bathroom. You didn't hear him enter and were focused trying to pick out the small ceramic pieces that were lodged beneath your fingertips.

You had been attempting to fish out the pieces for just under an hour now and your hands were shaking. You could barely work the tweezers due to the slick blood and your hand was cramping. Speaking of, it was properly hurting now–which it hadn't been for weeks now.

“Baby?”

You jumped, dropping the tweezers and cursing. You grabbed the hand towel and tried to cover your hand but he was quicker. His body came up behind yours and he placed both arms on the sink, trapping you in place, eyes making contact in the mirror.

“Let me see,” he said, leaning down, breath hitting your neck.

“It’s nothing, just cut myself cleaning.”

“Let–me see.”

You almost gave in but just as you about relented, you thought of a different distraction and leaned back and pressed your backside into him, moving your hips gently from side to side.

His nostrils flared, eyes narrowed as he hissed at the contact. It took him a second to come to his senses because his body would alway betray him when it came to you, but then quickly snapped out of it and scooted back and put his hands on your hips preventing you from following.

“Jesus–just let me see your damn hand.”

You turned around abruptly, he was still very much in your personal space.

“I just nicked it. I don't know why you're acting like this over this,” you suddenly felt small like a helpless child. Despite your confident voice, you could no longer look at him as tears welled in your eyes. You hated feeling helpless but you also hated needing help. And what didn't even make sense was all he wanted to do was to help you. Why you rejected it you weren't entirely sure. Maybe you were just tired of seeing the worried look on his face–the one that you continued to put there.

Though, as much as you loved him, you hated the way you always just gave into him. You blamed his eyes, his voice, his… you know what, it was just him–he was your kryptonite.

“It was just a little cleaning,” you said, unwrapping your hand and held it up to him so that he could see. “I- I uh–broke a glass and tried to…”

“Maria told me.”

“Damn.”

He chuckled softly at your frustration and then frowned suddenly, “You're still lying to me. I thought we went over this.”

“This doesn't count though. It's not life or death. It's just a few stupid cuts.”

He reached out and took your lightly bleeding hand. “I’m not too worried about this,” he said after inspecting it thoroughly, noting that you still had some small pieces still stuck. “But this…” he gently let go of your hand and picked up the other. It was still locked in a cramp, “This is what I worry about.”

He carefully pressed into the tight muscle and you gasped in discomfort, which was quickly replaced with relief as he kneaded the overused muscle until he successfully worked the cramp out.

“Thank you,” you said, looking up at him almost ashamed

“You're doin’ too much.”

You yanked your hand from his like he had just burned you. He didn't react, just continued to stare at you. He wasn't going to take that back, you were doing too much too soon.

“I literally just swept and washed a few dishes. If–if I can't even do that then…”

“You were hurt,” the frown returned to his face.

“Yeah I was. Past tense Joel.”

“It takes time to heal. You almost…you almost died baby,” he put his hands in his pockets as he blinked a few times trying to rid the images of you doubled over coughing up blood.

He wanted to reach out to you so damn bad, but knew that you needed space right now.

“I know that. But I feel so helpless, all the time. I- I can't do anything. I can't even turn the pages in a book…I can't even sit and fucking read. And you leave and do your shifts–shifts that we are supposed to do together. What if you got hurt because I wasn't there to watch your back?” He looked like he wanted to interrupt you but refrained. “And then Ellie has to come home from school and before she does her homework or hangs out with her friends she helps me cook and clean. I just—I’m just so sick of feeling useless. I’m so sick of feeling like a burden.”

There it was.

He thought of a million things to say. He wanted to berate you for even thinking such a thing, but that never seemed to work on you, so he decided to go a different route.

“I understand.”

“Do you?” You said with more venom than you intended.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” he cleared his throat, “When I was stabbed and you and Ellie had to do everything.”

“You were unconscious Joel. You were dying from infection.”

“That doesn't matter. I–I couldn't protect you two. I could barely understand what you said to me but I could make out enough.” He took his hands out of his pockets and rubbed his face, “I knew that you were going to leave and try to find me medicine. I tried to call out…I tried to stop you, but I couldn't. And then when the men–when the men came looking for you I–damn near lost my mind. But I couldn't move. I, I tried so hard to,” he felt the familiar pressure in his chest, “I…I watched you leave–and I couldn't even beg you to stay.”

You stood still as a statue as a tear rolled down your cheek, all you could do was stare.

“So yeah, I do understand. Feeling helpless is the worst, but you got me and Ellie, and you are getting better everyday. But pushing yourself isn’t gonna help you. So please do me–do us a favor and just let us help you. You’d do the same thing for us in a heartbeat and you are never a burden. Do you hear me?”

Your eyes were wide and mouth was slightly opened, “I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

“It’s ok. Everything turned out fine. We are both here.”

You launched at him, hugging him tightly. You kissed his neck and said, “I wish you would have told me. I know you dream about it…”

“I don't want to talk about that right now, ok? I just want to get that junk out of your hand and take a shower. Does that sound good?”

You agreed.

He took his time and worked efficiently, and in no time he had all of the debris removed and had cleaned your fingertips. Then he helped you undress and led you to the shower, where he worshiped you with as much attention as he gave you wounds, and then finished by cleaning your body as well–something that he's come to enjoy doing. When you got out of the shower he gently bandaged both hands, one for the cuts and the other to relieve the pressure on the healing muscle.

He dried you off and helped you dress into your most comfortable clothes, which were ironically his clothes. Then you sat at the kitchen table and listened while he told you about his day. He heated you a can of your preferred soup and toasted you both some bread to go along with it.

After your shared meal, you moved to the bedroom where he read a couple chapters of your favorite book to you. You fell asleep with your head on his shoulder. And when you woke you were in his arms snuggled closely, your bad hand in his as he lightly massaged it.

You've been back on light duties for a month now–also known as cleaning and restocking the armory. It definitely feels boring and mundane after the action you were used to, but it was much better than doing nothing. Your hand still has the occasional cramp but it's much stronger. You’ve practiced on the shooting range a few times now and you weren't as hindered as you thought you'd be. Slower yes, but still able, with an aim as deadly as it's ever been.

It was the middle of a Wyoming winter and it was cold. Snow fell for four days straight covering the ground in a thick solid layer that probably wouldn't melt until the beginning of spring. Which made today's appearance of the sun that much better. Everyone in Jackson acted like it was a holiday. Two families were actually having parties and had invited you over.

People liked you for a reason you didn't even know. You were nice and you worked hard but you weren't overly friendly, maybe you just appeared that way because you were around Joel and Ellie. Or maybe it was because you were close to Maria and Tommy. Regardless, there would be no partying for you.

A few months ago you had talked Ellie out of going on runs until she was older. She hated it and took quite some convincing but you managed to make a deal with her. She focuses on school and her friends, and honestly just being a semi carefree teenager for once in her life, and a couple times a year the three of you would take vacations.

By vacations, you'd basically just camp and be away from everyone a bit. None of you would admit it but each of you missed the seclusion. Just the three of you, no obligations, nobody telling you what to do. You were grateful for Jackson, you all were and it was much better than being alone but that's how you lived for months together. That's where your strong bonds were made, and sometimes the sleeping bag under the stars felt more like home than your house.

Another part of the agreement was that Ellie got to choose where you'd go. It couldn't be too far, at least not during the winter, and the trip couldn't last more than a week–not until she was finished with school.

On this inaugural trip she wanted to see the rapids. Some friends had talked about how they canoed down them and she hadn't stopped talking about it since. You doubted that that was true, in a canoe? But it didn't matter it was a part of your deal and since the rapids weren't too far away the request seemed reasonable.

And really it was a big deal for Ellie to want to go anywhere near water, let alone potentially dangerous water. She had let it slip once that she couldn't swim and the fact that she hasn't asked to learn yet tells you that she's afraid.

It was early morning, the sun had just begun to light up the sky. It was cold but no snow clouds were on the horizon. You were all packed with more things than you’d need in a week, and the trip probably wouldn’t even last three days. This was your first time leaving since your injury and it was Ellie's first since the agreement, which meant Joel was kind of a nervous wreck. He packed excessive amounts of everything–ammo, food, first aid. His pack weighed double the usual weight, and this time he saddled up his horse.

You found him in the stables. He was loading up the horse slowly and precisely, trying to slow down the inevitable–his family was leaving safety.

“Are you ready?”

He jumped slightly and laughed almost nervously. “You scared me sweetheart.” He sighed and fastened the last strap on the saddle, “Bout there, I wanna double check the…”

“Joel,” you crossed your arms and looked at him sweetly. “Everything is going to be ok. We are going to have a fun quick little trip. Nothing that we aren't used to right?”

He still had his back to you but you could hear him gulp and you could see him trying to shake his head in some sort of agreement.

“Hey.” You walked up to him and held the side of his arms. “Do not put all of this on yourself. The three of us can defend ourselves, in fact I'd say that we are a pretty badass trio.”

You smiled and he couldn't help but smile back. It didn't reach his eyes but he smiled nonetheless.

“I’m afraid.” His voice was low where only you could hear him. He turned from you and focused on the horse. A little shocked that the confession slid out of him so easily. Completely unintentional.

His admission made you break a little. You didn't want this to stress him out like it was. This was supposed to be fun. “If you don't want to go me and Ellie–”

“No,” his voice was firm and commanding. “God- just no. I um–I just…it's safe here.” He was suddenly fixated on petting the horse, unable to look at your eyes that seemed to make him confess things without his permission. “And to leave it, if we don't have to seems…foolish to me.”

You tensed at his words. And boy did they make you angry. You and Ellie have been planning this and looking forward to it for weeks now. And he just waited until the last minute to express his concern? To call something you’d been dreaming about foolish?!

“We can't just stay here. We can't just be yours to play house with.” You paced a little and then continued almost grumbling to yourself, “Be your little housewife and we aren’t even married—go to school–be your picture perfect family. We can't do that. I can’t. I- I won't.”

He turned to face you quickly. He hadn’t meant to upset you, really he hadn't but it did seemed foolish to him, dangerous for no reason. He didn’t like the way you were talking, it made him uncomfortable. Yes he loved coming home to you but it was just because he knew that you were safe. It had nothing to do with you being a ‘housewife’ to him. And he also didn’t like what sounded like an ultimatum, he would never keep you from leaving but it still frightened him.

“I just meant–”

“Oh I know what you meant.” You felt your face getting hot. You didn't know where all of this was coming from and chalked it up to being frustrated at his last minute indecisiveness and your slightly stir-crazed mental state. “And it's such an easy thing for you to think about- building a wall around us caginging us up like animals in a zoo.”

“That's not–”

“Come home to a cooked meal.” You were pacing faster now, needing some kind of physical release. Your body was practically humming with pent up energy from being cooped up for months.

“Baby it’s not–”

“All your laundry folded nice and neat.” You dug your boots into the stable floor with such force that dirt was actually starting to kick up. You could feel your blood pressure rise with each step.

“To be propped up and ready to fuck when you come home–”

That made him snap. “Stop it!” He tightly held your shoulders and jerked you around hard. “I’d think very carefully about what you say next.”

You were still, all except for a wicked gleam of rebellion that flashed in your eyes. “Is that what you want?” You were breathing embarrassingly heavy.

He hated his reaction to all of this but regardless he still felt blood quickly rushing south and his pants tightened rapidly. You are just so damn hot and the image you were painting, well he hated to admit that the last part sounded appealing. Also he not so secretly liked it when you talked dirty.

“For me to be spread out on the bed for you, nothing to do but wait for you to get home. Be nice and ready for your—”

With absolutely no warning he spun you around and pulled you roughly to him. You arched into him instinctively and he placed one hand on your inner thigh and the other over your dirty mouth.

“I know it’s been awhile so I won’t get mad at you. But if you don't shut that pretty mouth of yours right now, we aren't goin’ anywhere.”

You ground your backside into him just as rough, and bit at his hand, in a futile attempt of retaliation.

“Fuck…” He pressed himself harder into you. A sinful moan escaped you that was barely muffled by his large hand. He was certain that his strain was going to break his zipper. “If you needed this from me baby, all you have to do is ask.” He cooed into your ear making chills shoot down your spine and pressure pool into your belly.

He moved his hand that was resting on your thigh and started to unclip your belt buckle.

The metallic clank broke you from your lust filled trance, and you shot out from his embrace. Your pupils were blown wide and you were almost gasping for air. “You aren't gonna- damnit, you aren’t going to distract me over this. We- we are leaving, with or without you.”

You stormed out quickly. Not even bothering to buckle back up.

If he were in the position he would have chased after you. But he couldn’t go running through town in his current state. So instead, to calm himself down, he thought about anything at all other than you.

A couple of minutes later, he led his overly packed horse over to where the two of you were waiting. Ellie was beaming at him and bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement. He smiled at her but it made him feel like a piece of shit. This meant so much to the two of you. And he might have just ruined your whole trip. He hated when he made you angry but he still believed he had a point.

He looked over at you and you quickly turned your head away to avoid him. He didn’t know how to apologize to you. Or rather he knew how but he couldn’t do that in front of Ellie. So he’d have to find the right time when you were alone. He wasn’t the best with words, in fact most of the time his words only made things worse. So he’d have to be patient and hope you’d be willing to forgive.

He was mid thought when you just started walking. Ellie cut her eyes back at him and raised her eyebrow in question.

He just shrugged but he knew she was clever, sometimes too clever, and he knew that she knew he had done something stupid.

“Come on.” He sighed, urging her to drop it and follow.

Luckily for him, she was more excited for the trip than curious about what had happened. But he still feared that it was only a matter of time before she questioned him to death.

It took about five hours to make it to the river. It was a slow peaceful walk. There was no hurry—the journey and being at peace was the reason for the trip–it was mostly made in silence, the three of you weren’t big on small talk so it wasn’t at all uncomfortable, though he knew that you were only quiet because you were still stewing from earlier.

Ellie grew more talkative towards the end and you tried your best to carry on with her, but you were still infuriated with Joel. It was a buildup of things you supposed. But sometimes he really gets under your skin. The overprotective thing really works for you until it doesn't. And that’s not really fair to him because that’s who he is, and you knew that he hadn’t caged you in, you just felt trapped by your own injury.

It didn’t help that it was after months of being cooped up and babied. Two things you disliked. If he was going to be like this every time you wanted to go for a walk- then flat out, the relationship wouldn’t work. You needed some semblance of freedom or you’d go insane. That scared you because you also needed him. And maybe you were being a little dramatic. He was currently beside you and you were outside of the gates. So maybe you were being a little hasty. Hopefully this outing will give you the reboot your mind needed.

Joel picked a place to set up camp while you and Ellie walked over to the edge of the cliff to see the now infamous rapids. They were more intense than you imagined, no way could a canoe make it down them.

Ellie was being uncharacteristically timid. You looked back at her and decided to give her some alone time. “I’m going to help him, don't get too close to the edge, it's slick.”

She playfully rolled her eyes at you.

When you made it back to Joel he already had half of the stuff thrown on the ground, but when he looked at you he gave a look.

“What?” You placed your hands on your hips defensively.

“Nothin’...” he exhaled deeply, “Look- I’m sorry about earlier. I don’t wanna ruin your trip.”

“Our trip, it's our trip Joel. Look at where we are. Look how beautiful it is.” you gestured around you at the beautiful mountains, “Don’t you just feel…free?”

He looked at you with a sudden understanding, it was freedom that you needed. You’d told him as much, but seeing the stress visibly leave your face is what finally got it through his thick skull, “Yeah, I guess I do.”

You beamed at him, “See!”

“You look awfully beautiful out here like this,” his eyes sparkled at you. There was no other way to describe it.

“So do you.”

“Yeah?”

“Big time.”

He laughed, “See that big tree?”

It was the biggest tree in the area, impossible to miss, “Yeah?”

“If we were alone I’d apologize like you like me to, right up against–”

“Stop…that's–that’s cruel,” you blushed.

He laughed almost wickedly.

“Let's unpack before you find a way to get yourself back into trouble.”

Ellie was looking out, biting her lip apprehensively. Now that she was here she was fucking scared. Why did she even pick this stupid place, she couldn't swim, it was cold, and it was fucking stupid.

She walked closer to the edge and tried to peek over but she was too far away. She got frustrated with herself. Come on, don't be a pussy. She moved closer and closer still. Her chest felt tight and her legs were beginning to quake. She fought the urge to lay down and crawl to the edge, she didn't think that that would be a good look for her. So she continued to move forward very slowly, inch by inch, silently disregarding all sounds of internal alarms until finally, she could see all the way down into the raging water.

Her toes kissed the edge and as she leaned forward, just as she felt that she had confidently conquered a fear, her boot slipped. “FU–” she was cut short as she twisted and tried to grab onto the edge, but in doing so she landed on her chest which then sent her flying backwards towards the water. Thankfully she landed on a ledge less than halfway down the steep drop.

The ledge was small and narrow, she was very lucky to land on it at all. If she wouldn't have tried to hug the side of the cliff she would have fallen straight into the water. What she didn’t notice though was as she landed, the ledge moved slightly- small rocks broke off and fell into the freezing water below.

Ellie laid there for a few seconds and stared up at the blue sky. She took deep breaths trying to get it through her head that she was in fact alive–she wasn't entirely convinced. Until she heard you calling out her name.

You were fortunate enough to look over just as she fell. You ran to her as fast as you could desperately calling out her name.

Joel was left alone and confused for merely a second before he noticed Ellie's missing form. His heart dropped as he sprinted past you and looked over where she used to be standing.

“Ellie?” you caught up and stood beside him.

You looked over the ledge as she carefully stood and brushed off some snow and dirt.

“Holy shit.” she said looking up at the two of you.

She didn't speak loud enough to hear because of the thunderous sound of the rapids, but you could read her lips. You exhaled in relief.

Joel was also very relieved. If she had fallen she would have hit the rocks, and if by some miracle she missed the rocks the currents were strong. Even an amazing swimmer wouldn’t be able to stay above the water, he didn't care to think about what would happen to someone who couldn't swim.

“Ellie,” he yelled down to her.

She looked up, and moved to hug the side of the cliff, “Yea?”

He laid on his stomach and reached down his arm as far as he could stretch, “Can you climb to reach my hand?”

She stretched her body as tall as she could, standing on her toes, her feet almost completely parallel to the cliff. She was still short, not by much, so she jumped as high as she could, still missing his hand. When she landed, the shifting of the ledge was still unnoticed. There was nothing to grab onto, there was nothing to grip to climb.

She jumped again but this time landing with more force. The ledge visibly shifted and larger rocks plunked into the water.

“Stop!” you screamed out. “Ellie, stay still!”

She gave a thumbs up, “No problem.”

You laid down next to Joel, “I’m going down there.”

“Like hell–”

“Hey, listen to me. I’m taller than her. I could probably jump and reach your hand, she just needs a boost. She could probably stand on my back and reach you.”

“Let me, I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” you sighed and did your best to calm down. “I don't think the ledge is strong enough to hold you both.”

He opened his mouth but you continued, “And you know I couldn't pull your ass up.” you grinned, but he wasn't having it.

“Just wait a second. Let me figure something out.” He looked back towards camp, “We could tie some–”

“You saw the way those rocks fell. We might not have the time for that Joel.” You grabbed his forearm and looked deeply into his eyes, you weren't playing around, you were going to do this, “Please, let me save her.”

His brows furrowed and he looked at you with as much seriousness as you've ever seen from him, and that was saying something. He brought his forehead to yours, “Be careful,” he whispered onto your skin.

You nodded, noses bumbing against each other and then reluctantly moved from him and looked down, “Ellie? I’m going to come down there and help you, ok?”

She looked up at you in pure panic, “No don't! This fucking piece of shit rock is barely holding me up.”

“It’ll be fine.”

She practically cried out your name, “Please don't,” her voice cracked in her loud plea.

You looked at Joel and he was looking at you in premature anguish, “It’s going to be alright,” you said to who, you weren’t sure–probably everyone, including yourself.

You removed your gloves in case you needed a better grip and slowly climbed over the edge, Joel held on tightly, and when he looked at the two deep scars on your hand he froze, “God damnit!”

“What?” you looked up worried that something had happened, and saw him focused on your hand.

“Crazy woman, what are you fuckin’ insane?”

Your hand had crossed your mind, but getting Ellie to safety was the only thing that mattered. You smiled sadly- knowingly at him, and he all of the sudden realized what he was doing–he was slowly dropping you to your death. This wasn’t just a rescue mission, this was a suicide mission. The anger from his eyes was replaced with bone chilling fear. He desperately yanked you back up a little, pulling your arm too tight and causing your bicep to strain.

“Wha–?” you saw the raw panic in his eyes as he tried to haul you back up, “Stop, Joel Stop!” you looked down at Ellie and then back up to him with tears in your eyes, “I’ll break my arm off if I have to.”

He knew you would. Selfless woman.

He looked back at you holding on to his hand, gripping the side of the rock face, eyes full of tears and determination–he loved you so. “You better come back to me.”

“I always will.”

His grip tightened and he lowered you as far as he could, “Land softly.”

No shit you thought as you landed on the ledge. It dropped even further this time making a horrible crumbling noise.

You grabbed Ellie and hugged her tightly afraid that this was it. When nothing else happened you sighed in relief and quickly backed up. She looked scared, like she wanted to stay in your arms and hide.

“Come on, we have to hurry.”

You quickly got on your hands and knees and she stood on top of you. She reached tall but was scared to dig her toes into you–she didn't want to hurt you, and she thought of how long it took for your ribs to heal, how much pain you were in.

“Use your toes Ellie!” you demanded.

“I don't want to hurt you,” she practically sobbed out.

“You won’t, I can hardly feel you.”

She knew you were lying but she complied and stood on the tips of her toes. She brushed his fingertips and tried to reach further.

“Are you close?” you asked, feeling the ground beneath you sway knowing time wasn't on your side.

“I can touch him but I can’t–”

“Jump,” you interrupted her.

“Wha….NO I won't do that.”

“Ellie, baby- you have to.”

“I don't want to.”

“I love you very much…everything is going to be ok.”

More rocks crumbled and Joel called out your name in warning.

“Jump Ellie!”

Without a moment's more hesitation she did and Joel gripped her wrist tightly. They worked together and quickly got her to safety.

The pathetic excuse for a ledge was giving out. Your world was rocking back and forth like a buoy on the ocean. You stood slowly, doing your best to not make any sudden movements. You could hear both of them desperately calling out to you but you were focused. They didn’t know how precarious your situation had become.

You stood slowly and reached for Joel’s hand. You had known going into this that it was going to be much harder for you to get up. Sure you were taller than Ellie but not by much. You were going to have to jump or climb. To jump meant if you missed- you had to land, and you weren’t sure it could take that force.

You dug your fingers into any crack you could find, there weren’t many but you made your way maybe a foot off of the ledge when two things happened—first your hand locked up in a cramp that rendered it useless. You dropped it to your side, trying your best to hide it from those above. And second, the ledge broke away and fell into the water.

They cried out to you but you didn’t know what to do. You truly couldn’t do a thing with your hand, you couldn’t even use it as a stabilizer. You found a perch for one toe of your boot, but it wasn’t going to hold long.

It was like the universe knew that this was how you’d die. It was shitty, but it was giving you a chance to say goodbye to the two people you loved most in the world, and that’s more than a lot of people got.

You looked up. Joel’s face was red from straining to make himself longer. Spit was flying from his mouth with every pleading yell. Ellie was screaming for you to hurry. Time seemed to slow down as you watched them. They were going to be ok, they had each other, and despite what Joel would argue that would be enough.

So you had one attempt. It was all or nothing. One small lurch forward and you’d either make it to Joel’s hand or you wouldn’t. The chances were very slim.

“I have one shot,” you called up.

“Just keep climbing baby, you’re doing so good!” he encouraged loudly.

“I- I can’t. My hand is locked up.”

He cussed and behind him his feet angrily kicked holes in the snow. Tears started falling from his face and passed by you like drops of rain, “I told you to let me! I could have—“

“I love you. I love you both,” you sniffled but felt at peace, you had saved your girl, “I’m going to try my best but I really don’t have much to propel myself from.”

Your hand slipped a little and you could hear Joel’s gasp and Ellie’s cry.

“Ok I’m ready,” your muscles tightened in preparation and you tested the movement. Once you were satisfied that you’ve done all you could you started your countdown, “On, three-two—one.”

To give yourself some credit, you did make it farther than you thought. Probably a hands length away from Joel’s, but you knew from takeoff that it wasn’t enough.

You briefly saw the look of absolute horror on their faces as you took in as much air as you could, and shielded your head with your arms as you plunged into the freezing water.

You of course knew that water was powerful. It helped shape the earth with its constant rising and falling. Given time its pressure could smooth a stone, could forge new paths and create new bodies of water. It grew vegetation as easily as it could flood and drown. Any living thing needs it or would die. Water was both life and death, it was a powerful, powerful thing.

But you didn’t truly respect it until now. It tugged you under and slung your body around like a ragdoll filled with nothing but cotton. You had never felt so weighed down and yet somehow so weightless. You were so distracted by the sheer force of it that the sharp burning from the cold came later. Then oddly enough the need to breathe came even later than that.

After a few seconds of pathetically trying to fight it, you quickly realized you could do nothing but patiently wait for a current to bring you to the surface for a chance to get air.

It happened faster than you had anticipated. Before you knew it your head was above the water and you were gasping for oxygen. Some water got in but that didn’t matter to you in the slightest.

You glanced to the side at the riverbank and for the first time you noticed how fast you were moving. You were absolutely flying down the river.

You went under a couple more times, and were banged around—hitting some rocks here and there, which would bruise but nothing serious.

There wasn’t much farther to go as far as the rapids were concerned. The river was long but if you could make it another one- two minutes tops before it slowed and calmed.

What a jinx you are.

Your ankle was suddenly caught between two rocks. You were stuck and the angry currents were pushing at the side of your face, trying their best to force you back under. You took a deep breath, and went under to try and wiggle your boot free. It was of no use so you untied the shoe and were launched free immediately. It took you by surprise and rolled you a few times—disorienting you, and then your luck ran out. You hit your head, everything went black.

When you fell he almost jumped right in after you. As matter of fact, if Ellie wasn't with him he would have. His whole body shifted forward begging him to leap, but Ellie’s hand quickly grabbed his shoulder tugging him back up, as she yelled out after you. She anchored him to the spot and kept him from acting irrationally.

He sprang to his feet, “Look for her I’m gettin’ the horse.”

She quickly got up and ran along the edge. It's funny that moments ago she was so scared to even go near it- now she was sprinting alongside it, the only fear she felt was for you. Her eyes combed the water trying to get a glimpse of your now flailing form, they were stinging from the cold but she refused to so much as blink.

She looked farther down and saw you, just as you were thrusted up for air.

Joel passed her on the horse and she pointed ahead. She tried to keep up but you were both moving too quickly. She kept running even as she lost sight of you both.

Joel was riding alongside you. It was a difficult task to both keep his eyes on you, and keep his horse from running off the side but he quickly adjusted. You were doing a good job of keeping your head above the water, and he was starting to feel slightly optimistic.

The water was already calming down.

He looked back to you all of that previous optimism died along with any hope he had left in him. This time he screamed your name, it was way too raw to be called a yell.

He moved his horse back and forth searching. The horse was as anxious as Joel, it wanted to continue running. His heart was beating out of his chest as he continued crying out for you.

Then he saw you.

You were face down and floating downstream.

He charged the horse and went ahead of you to where the rocks stopped and the shore began. He dismounted, took off all of his clothes except his boxers, and ran into the water.

Even though it was calmer, he still had to curl his toes–gripping at the dirt in an attempt to brace himself with each step. When you floated near he swam out to you. It was rougher out where you were.

When he reached you he quickly turned you over.

You were so blue and he couldn’t tell if you were breathing.

Fortunately for the both of you, he was a swim champion in his teenage years and a pool lifeguard was his first job. He swam fast and strong and there was no way you’d release from his grip.

When his feet touched the bottom he cradled you, and trudged through the water as quickly as he could–water splashing all around as his strong legs ran you to shore.

Ellie was waiting, bent over trying to catch her breath.

He got you out of the water and laid you down in the snow.

“Is she breathing?” Ellie gasped as she looked down at your blue face.

“I don’t know yet.” He felt for a pulse but didn’t find one. Then he put finger under your nose to feel the air. Nothing.

“Damnit,” he immediately started chest compressions.

Ellie’s legs gave out and she sat in shock. She had lost a lot but losing you felt like too much. You were the closest thing she’d ever had to a mom. You were her best friend. What the fuck was she supposed to do without you?

“...gotta be the hero—”

Joel was angrily muttering to you. Ellie could only make out occasional fragments, she wasn’t even sure he knew what he was saying.

“—let anyone else get hurt.”

His voice trembled with emotion.

“Couldn’t just let me…hard headed…”

He was openly crying now and getting slightly winded from the exertion. His body pink from the cold with steam rising off of him.

“—drive me damn insane,”

Ellie was now sobbing with him- broken gasps and labored breaths. She hugged her knees to herself and began rocking.

“…better start breathing I swear to god.”

The horse moved, catching her eye.

“Please- don’t leave me…”

She turned back and watched him desperately pound on your chest.

“—I fucking need you…you hear me?”

That was as close to a sleeping beauty moment that you’d ever get. You started violently coughing up water- expelling it from your lungs. He rolled you on your side so it was easier on you for you to spit up the liquid.

A rush of pure joy overcame him, “That’s it baby get it all out.”

Ellie crawled closer to you like she couldn’t believe that you were alive. Something red caught her eye. “Uh, Joel?” she pointed behind your head, her voice sounding so small.

He was so fixated on watching your face that he hadn’t seen the blood staining the white snow behind your head, “Fuck.”

As you continued to cough he felt around the back of your head. There was a small swollen knot that was split by a not so deep cut. There was no indentation which was his main concern. And head injuries bled a lot, he reminded himself as he looked at his now crimson coated hand.

The coughs slowed down but he started worrying why you weren’t shivering. He was shaking uncontrollably. You were still.

“Here’s what I need you to do- take the horse and bring all our stuff down here. We have to get her warm.”

Ellie was silent. Frozen in fear staring at the blood.

“Ellie…Ellie?!” He said loudly, snapping her out of it, “You hear me?”

“I- I’m on it.” She jumped on the horse and galloped away.

He pulled you so that you were propped up against a tree–he didn't want you to drown in the water you were clearing from your body. He brushed some hair out of your face with his numb fingers–he couldn't even feel the soft strands. Then he started to gather sticks for a fire.

You were in and out of consciousness. You mumbled a few times but never made much sense.

Ellie returned and helped Joel finish building the fire, it needed to be big. He kept repeating that to her.

They set up the tent. Facing it towards the fire so that the heat wafted and was captured underneath. Then he put all the sleeping bags and any fabric they packed inside. By this time Joel was shaking so bad he could barely pick up anything- now all of his appendages were numb. His tremors were now so severe that his speech was broken.

“I’m gonna ge-get all of these wet clothes–off of her, and get her in-inside.”

She nodded, liking the plan so far.

“Listen- I don’t know how to say this a-any other way, but we are going t-to be naked.”

She looked a little put off and confused.

“It’s just for bo-body heat, nothin’ weird.”

“Nothing, weird?”

“You-you know what, I- I mean,” he clenched his fists trying to demand that his body stop shaking.

“Ok so what do you want me to do?”

“I want you…to ta-take the rifle, and be on lo-look out…she has to ge-get warm–”

“Joel…I’ve got this. Just…take care of her..please.”

He nodded in an understanding agreement, if he takes care of you then everything else will be ok.

She picked up the gun and mentally started outlining a perimeter to pace.

He pulled you over to the fire and began to undress you. His hands fumbled with the buttons and he winced when he finally noticed that you were missing a boot. He removed your shirt and jacket, leaving your top half bare. His eyes traced the many forming bruises–nothing near as bad as the last time. Then his hands touched your belt buckle. Visions from mere hours ago when he was unfastening it for a completely different reason flashed before him.

Tears returned and he started sniffing loudly, ‘gah’ he helplessly croaked out as he removed the remaining clothing. Nothing more to note, just more of the same–discolored bruising and small scrapes.

The bleeding on the back of your head was slowing down, though he still wrapped the injury with gauze. The bandage wrapped around and covered the top of your forehead.

He laid you gently on top of a sleeping bag–the tent had a floor but he was trying his best to keep you from the cold ground. Then he put all the other sleeping bags, blankets, and even clothes on top of you. He took off his wet boxers and threw them out of the tent and snuggled as close to you as he could possibly get.

Your skin felt like ice. He hissed at the first contact but without hesitation pulled you to him even tighter. He was truly enveloping your form- legs were entangled, his broad chest and strong arms cocooned around you securely, even his neck and head curled into you. His hands rubbed up and down your back trying to create a warming friction–but you still weren't shivering…you should be shivering.

He didn't know what else to do, and maybe he'd done all that he could do, but that was hard for a man like Joel to accept.

He was warming up quickly, and as he regained some sense of touch, he started to feel your skin beneath his fingertips. You were so very soft, much too soft for hands like these he thought to himself.

Out of nowhere he started talking. He didn't know where it came from, he just opened his mouth and words began pouring out. He wasn't even aware of what he was saying until he heard Sarah's name.

He was telling you about his daughter he then realized.

You had only asked about her twice. Once at the beginning of your relationship when you found out about her for the first time–which led to him wrongly ignoring you for a whole week. And the second was when he screamed her name in a nightmare–he told you to never mention her again, and went for a walk that lasted a whole day. He didn't know why you put up with him.

Last time you were hurt, when he was so scared he was gonna lose you, he told you how she died. And even then, even after he had opened up and said her name for the first time in years, even knowing that he could trust you- that he loved you, he couldn't bring himself to talk about her…that was for some reason until this moment.

He told you about how smart she was, about how kind and funny, and caring. How she loved to make a big deal on his birthday and always found a way to surprise him with incredibly thoughtful gifts. That she loved to cook and take care of him, because she said he deserved to be taken care of.

And as he was telling you all of the wonderful things about his daughter it made him realize that she would have absolutely loved you. The two of you had a lot in common and would have probably harassed him into taking care of himself. His chest felt unbearably tight, he had hurt the both of you by not talking about her–by not talking about her he hadn’t let her memory live on, and by not telling you he had unintentionally kept a huge part of his heart hidden.

Suddenly he felt you. If he weren’t melded to you so tightly he probably wouldn’t have, but he did. You were starting to tremble.

“That's it baby. Warm up for me.”

He kept rubbing your back. He could feel a thin layer of sweat collect between you, it was from him he was certain. He'd gone from cold to warm to quite hot. The fire had heated up the small space in no time at all.

Before long chills started to shake your body and he could hear your teeth chattering. He felt you nuzzle closer to his chest.

“Sweetheart?”

“S’ cold.”

“You'll be warm in a minute.”

“Wha time is…?” your words were slurred.

“Late. We should probably wake up.” he really hoped that you would wake up, or at least seem more alert.

“Yea…”

And then you lost consciousness or fell back asleep one, or maybe both.

An hour or so passed and you were coming down from the worst of your chills. Your teeth were no longer clicking and your skin felt much warmer to the touch.

He felt your head shift to look up.

“Hey,” he smiled, warmly down at you.

“Hi,” you turned your head and took in your surroundings. Saying you were confused was an understatement. “Where are we?”

“You don't remember?” his brows creased and his smile drained from his face.

“I- I remember…ELLIE!” you sat up quickly, he did too.

“It’s ok, she's ok. I promise.” he pulled you into a hug and as your bare breasts brushed against his arm hair you noticed for the first time that you were naked–you both were.

“Joel, what the hell happened?” you asked into the crease of his neck.

He explained everything, and you were slowly able to fill all of the missing holes of your memory–the fall, the battle in the water, the rock that took you out.

“You saved me again,” tears fell from your eyes.

“Sweetheart I’ll save you everyday if you'll let me,” he wiped them away with his thumb, you heard the gauze rustle.

“Wha?” you reached up and felt the bandage seeming to cover your head.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he chuckled, “Just a little thing. I might have been…excessive.”

You laughed and the strain of it made you notice the pain in your chest. You placed your hand over your heart and looked at him, obviously confused.

“Yeah…that might hurt for a bit,” he winced. “You- you weren't breathing when I got you out of the water–”

“You had to do CPR!?”

“I did.” he swallowed thickly and looked away.

“Oh, Joel… thank you.” you moved your leg over his lap and straddled him, you grimaced, your body was more battered than you thought. He openly began to weep, sobs wrecked through his body. You rested his head to your chest, and rubbed the back of his head until his breaths calmed and his shaking stopped.

“Ya know, this would be really hot in other circumstances.” you weren't in the mood, not even close. You felt like you had been run over by a truck, you were just trying to lighten the mood. “In a tent, naked with you.”

He chuckled, you felt him smile against you. He turned and kissed your soft supple skin. “I’m so glad you're ok…when you fell, just you can't do that shit.”

You leaned away from him, “What? Save Ellie?”

“Can't just…react. I could have tied something together—”

“If she would have fallen into the water, I would have never forgiven you. You know that right?”

He shook his head, “I never would have forgiven myself but- but darlin’…jesus.”

“I don't want to fight. Not about this and not right now, my head is killing me, but know this Joel Miller- if either one of you ever need saving, and I can, I will.” You grabbed a dry shirt and pulled on over your head. “It isn't something up for discussion, and I won't be talked out of it. You jumped in the water to save me- that was dangerous, we sometimes do dangerous things for the ones we love.” He looked like a kicked puppy but you continued, “If I don’t act, if I sit back and think about it- took time to come up with a plan, and then lost you anyway…then what–then what would be the point?”

You put your hand behind his head and pulled him closer again, whispering against his face, “I know you'd do the same so don't play all high and mighty with me, you will always lose that battle,” you placed a kiss on his lips.

He returned the kiss eagerly. Your lips were chapped but they had never tasted better to him. He pulled you both up so that you were both kneeling, and he pressed your body into his. He wished you hadn't put on the shirt, despite all of the previous contact he still felt like he needed to feel you.

“Joel…” you reluctantly warned into his mouth.

“I know…I know–but god I just want to feel you right now.”

You hummed in agreement and stayed for another minute or two, and then slowly backed out of his embrace. He smoothed back his hair and looked around for his extra clothes. You threw his boxers at his face, he laughed and grabbed you back to him- suddenly catching you off balance and the jerking motion hurt your head.

You hissed and massaged your temple.

“Shit I’m sorry.”

“It's fine..I think I need to lie down.”

“You ok?”

“Yeah, just need a minute.”

“You rest,” he tucked you in and kissed your forehead, “I’m gonna tell Ellie that you're doin’ better.”

“Kay,” you closed your suddenly very tired eyes.

Come morning it was snowing. It was a pleasant snow, the kind that was peaceful to watch with large flakes that floated down to the earth. You had slept straight through the night. Joel and Ellie took turns, taking watch and staying by you. You woke with a ravenous appetite, and ate enough for three meals. Neither of them said a word, in a humorous delight- they just watched you scarf down the food.

They both insisted that you rode the horse on your journey home. You didn't want to, but you would admit that your equilibrium was still somewhat off, and your body was very sore. So you relented and did as they asked.

When you returned to Jackson, the doctor examined you and said that you had a mild concussion and were still experiencing the symptoms from hypothermia, but were otherwise fine. You'd just have to take it easy for a week or two.

A week later you were working back in the armory, this time though you had no complaints.

When you came home, you opened the door and was immediately hit with a delicious aroma, “Joel? Ellie?” you called out a little suspicious. You tended to be this family's chef.

“In the dining room,” Joel responded.

You could hear the two of them whispering hurriedly, and you heard silverware clanking around. When you entered the room your jaw dropped.

They were both dressed up. Joel with a nice dark blue buttoned up shirt that you'd never seen- the sleeves neatly rolled up, dark pants, and his hair looked styled with…what was that gel? Ellie was wearing a white buttoned up shirt, and she had her hair down with one small braid off to the side (you had taught her how to braid her horse's mane and she was getting proud of her skills).

The ambiance was almost romantic, dim with nothing but candles lighting up the room. The table was set like they were expecting royalty and they had a bottle of wine in front of where you usually sat.

Joel moved to your chair and held it out for you, “Your chair Madame.”

“What is this?” you hoped you didn't look as shocked as you felt. You did.

“I made you dinner.” Ellie said proudly, “So sit.”

She left abruptly to retrieve the food.

You chuckled and sat. Joel pushed you in like a gentleman and then placed your napkin in your lap. “Wine Madame?” He was trying to do a french accent but it oddly just sounded somehow even more texan.

You giggled, “Oui Monsieur.”

He laughed, “Am I not garcon?

“A little boy?”

He looked flustered, “Oh…I reckon I don't know much French.” He filled your glass almost to the brim. He looked nervous.

You giggled again, “I don't either.”

Ellie walked in with a massive pot. It was a stew loaded with meat and potatoes. Then she went back to the kitchen and brought out some bread rolls that she learned to make from a sweet old lady.

“Ellie…what is this about?”

“I just– I just wanted to do something special for you. Joel said that you mentioned doing this before and I thought it might be something nice for you. I just…you fucking saved me.”

“Ellie–”

“No, I know. It still just sucks. How do you thank someone for saving your life ya know?”

“Easy.” you smiled lovingly at her.

She tilted her head in curiosity.

“You live yours baby.”

She moved to you quickly, and sat in your lap.You held her tightly, and she pressed into the nook of your neck.

Joel shuffled and stealthily wiped his eyes.

She sat up and looked at you, her eyes were red, “I don't really want to cry any more.”

“Then hop up, and let's eat.”

She hugged you again and then stood.

“Tell me about what you made me.”

She smiled and told you about everything in great detail.

Dinner was immaculate, that sounds over the top but it truly was. Once you had all cleaned your plates she returned to the kitchen and brought out a pie. A pie!!! You don't want to admit it, really you don't, but you ate half of it.

You were so proud of her and kept flooding her with compliments.

When everyone finished, you tried to help clean but they shooed you away. Joel grabbed your plate from you and whispered in your ear, “Go take a shower, I'll be up in a minute,” and gave you a rather passionate kiss.

You ran upstairs and took a very quick shower, your body was throbbing with anticipation. But alas, with belly full wine, pie, bread, and stew- after your warm relaxing shower- laying on your comfy bed that smelled of Joel's masculine scent- with a content mind and body, you fell asleep in record time.

When he entered the bedroom he saw you splayed out on top of the bed. “Sweetheart?” he asked softly- when he heard you deep breaths he immediately knew that you were asleep. It was hard to be disappointed when you looked so beautiful. He softly caressed your cheek, almost in awe of how incredibly lucky he was. He managed to gently maneuver you so that you were under the covers. He tucked you in and kissed the tip of your nose.

Then he unbuttoned his shirt, opened the dresser, and hid the ring back inside.

--------

if I forgot to tag you I am so sorry: @givemeth , @farintonorth

#not for you rae 💖#joel miller x reader #my fics

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pisupsala · 2 years

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One for The History Books [Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw] | Complete | Index

[Summary] You are an archivist at the Pentagon, sent on assignment to TOPGUN to catalog and report on a top secret mission. In the days under the Californian sun, a certain naval aviator puts your once orderly life in a tailspin that you might never recover from.

[Pairing] Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!oc

[Warnings] Mature content: swearing, (explicit) smut. 18+ only.

[Chapter 1]Don't Take The Bait [Chapter 2]Threading Water [Chapter 3]Strain [Chapter 4]Anchor [Chapter 5]Drown Me [Chapter 6]Adrift [Chapter 7]Reeling [Chapter 8]Surface Tension [Chapter 9]Breaking for Air [Chapter 10]Cresting [Chapter 11]Ripples [Chapter 12]Low Tide [Chapter 13]High Tide [Chapter 14]Becalmed [Chapter 15]Taking on Water [Chapter 16]Waterlogged [Chapter 17]Sinking [Chapter 18]Capsizing [Chapter 19]Rock Bottom [Chapter 20]Reaching the Shallows [Chapter 21]Landfall [Epilogue] [Side Stories/One Shots] Where Else Would I Be? Summary | He's been gone for so long.

Any Way The Wind Blows Summary | There’s a sudden shift in the mood.

Wish You Were Here | part 1 | part 2 Summary | Some things you’d rather not face alone.

[Final Update 22.02] With Wish You Were Here part 2 out, the story is really really over now. Lots of people stuck with me and the story since June last year, and I'm super grateful for that. When I write, I try not to look too much at how many notes something gets because I want to enjoy writing and write what I enjoy. And I'm only glad if you like it too. Every note I get is one person more than I thought would read it. So when I saw the index had over something over 500 notes, I got a little choked up tbh. Now it's time to say goodbye to these two idiots, and I'm probably going to have a little cry over that. But I hope to see you again in the next story <3 [Update 22.10]So, lmao at myself for nearly writing triple the chapters that I thought I would. I ended up adding additional plots lines and kept coming up with things I wanted to write about. So now I know how the story will end + I have an epilogue in mind. So I will stop stuffing it with other storylines that I hadn't introduced yet, and any new scenes I want to explore I will start writing as one-shots or side stories. Also I have almost 200 followers! [Update 31.08]Yeah, that was an unplanned "hiatus" to take care of some real life situations. Good news, it's all sorted, and I'm still committed to finishing this story. Thanks for all the comments and support I got in the last ... 8 weeks? I really hope this story will be worth the wait! [note] I decided it was a good moment to start collating all chapters of One for The History Books in a masterlist. I usually update the index in all chapters separately, but as I'm working on chapter 6 now, it's getting a bit much. I want to thank everyone who is reading my story and leaving comments. It seriously makes my day <3 Looking back at some chapters, I feel they would benefit from some stricter editing — I'm planning to finish the story in its current form, and will probably edit more strenuously when I repost on AO3. Thank you for sticking with the story, it means a lot to me!

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick #rooster fanfic #rooster top gun #rooster x oc

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angelosearch · 16 days

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Just some stuff about writing lately.

I am doing a challenge this month to try and write 32k words before my 32nd birthday. It's going pretty well. I am about 64% done, but I only have four more days that I will be able to work towards it so... I might spend all day on my birthday writing (not the worst thing tbh!!).

I was expecting to write a bunch of one-shots this month because I've been busy, but I've basically only been working on Chaos Theory. I do have to start putting in some work toward my Bingo card though!

It's so strange. I was looking at one of my "older" (as in, written in January) fics recently and I am already seeing that my writing style has changed. I am focusing more on detail. My chapters are getting longer. I am using more dialogue, but fewer dialogue tags. I'm introducing more OCs.

The way I write has changed too. I jump around a lot more now. I am more willing to write through a part and then come back to edit it. I am also really enjoying writing scenes that are toward the end of the fic and saving them for later.

HOWEVER, I am getting so nervous about my plot (Chaos Theory) as time goes on. I feel like I am getting so long-winded and repetitive. I fear what I have planned doesn't make sense. I wonder if what I am doing is contrived and too convoluted. Of course, I want to keep writing, I just have very little faith in myself aaahhh!!!

The goal is to finish Chaos Theory before September. Stretch goal - I would LOVE to publish the final chapter on Squall's birthday. It is hard to say how much is left seeing as I've been going slower lately. I think we'll end at about 150K words, which would put us halfway through right now.

Oh also I have had 199 kudos on ao3 for WEEKS and it is killing me haha. LET ME BREAK 200 ALREADY!!!!

Anyway, this is just some rambling!!

#ao3 #ao3 fanfic #writing

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koinotame · 5 months

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\o/

hi! it's me, nana / koinotame!

if you're wondering why i went inactive and then deleted, my mental health kind of (really) tanked... and i ended up deleting my blog in a fit.

it's getting better bit by bit though! and i've been wanting to get back into writing (and talking abt my unhinged/yan ideas i can't really talk to anyone else abt), so. here i am! for now, at least

as for my previously posted writing, there's some good news and some bad news: the bad news is that everything i wrote directly into tumblr (99% of snippets, a lot of ask answers, most exact content warnings, etc) is gone. the slightly less bad news is that iirc there were very very few posts of mine that weren't reblogged by anyone at all, so they're probably still out there? feel free to send them my way if you find any and i'll rb them. @/midnight-remembrance also has reblogged a couple of them! there's a couple snippets i have saved in some places, so i might repost those on my own as i find them, but there's very few of those. the good news is that anything longer (proper writing — oneshots, hcs, yan alphabet responses and so on, prompt responses, etc) is safely backed up where i originally wrote it! some of it is also on my ao3, which is the same username. feel free to send me asks about any you'd like to see again and i'll repost them! i might not post them if i feel too embarrassed about/wish i hadn't posted them, and i might rewrite/heavily edit some of them, but i think there's only a handful that fall into the former category and none of them were particularly popular. either way, no harm in asking!

as for some other updates: i'm a little divided on whether i want to keep posting explicit nsfw or not so we'll see. i might just keep it out of main tags. idk yet. regardless of what decision i make, this blog is still strictly 18+ and that will not be changing. since we can reply from sideblogs now, this is a sideblog and not my main now. why? sometimes i prefer to check up on a blog frequently instead of following them for a couple of reasons, but this felt very awkward when they were following me. so this being a sideblog relieves a bit of that stress. if this makes it sound like i have severe brain worms, it's because i do. to that effect though, if we interact every so often feel free to consider us mutuals regardless of whether or not i'm actually following you =w=b tbh i.............. am not really into genshin anymore. i might post about it here and there but i just Do Not (really) Care about it anymore. scara aside to some degree i also have no clue what's going on post inazuma lol whatever projects or commitments to writing or etc i had made beforehand. i forgot all of them so just pretend that never happened ok? ok i'll also probably be posting more sparsely, but we'll see! and (this is obviously the most important bit) i have no clue where i put the mika edit so we're back to my og classic pfp. the header scales terribly and is temporary, please ignore that too

all that aside, as a treat for anyone who sees this in time,

*roughly 6/22 done, but fairly quick to write. roughly one paragraph per character (sneak peek line: "it's not too hard to be discreet with his unique magic when someone really deserves to fall face down a flight of stairs. or three. oopsie. odd they don't remember it, huh? well, he had nothing to do with that.") **more realistic isn't quite the right word(s)... probably won't post this one to the main tags regardless. won't be doing all of the characters (only important/relevant ones) and won't be writing more about/expanding on, so this one is just like. a one off experiment sort of thing. overall less violent than most takes on the au + leans a bit (or lot, depending on how you look at it) more on the religious aspect of self aware aus. i wrote a couple paragraphs a while ago, then rewrote them, but i'll only finish/post them if there's interest for it (sneak peek line: "aether has deluded himself and cast You aside entirely on his own—and when You finally grace them with Your real presence, zhongli is certain aether will be the first to fall from Your grace.")

i have one other new thing immediately ready for posting that'll get posted in a couple of days but that one's pretty silly

#koinotame #and hi to the three people that found this blog before i posted this o/#long post #i ended up writing a lot. ehem.#<- the type to always have trouble getting essays down to the max word limit #if nobody ends up seeing this. well. it'll be here still when i post some actual writing #q

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marshmellowtea · 8 months

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um. so. y'all are not going to believe this but i've had this goddamn fic finished for MONTHS but i fucking FORGOT??? IT WAS HERE??? IT'S JUST BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS BECAUSE I FORGOR I HAD THIS BASICALLY FINISHED FIC JUST WAITING TO BE EDITED AND PUBLISHED HGKLDSJFLKSD 😭

ahem. anyway. sorry for yelling lmao. onto the actual fic summary—basically, i decided to write this silly little thing about human, arospec lila trying to talk about a newly formed crush with an aroacespec will. it's very silly and fluffy and writing it made me giggle a lot, don't expect much angst here, aside from like a sprinkling of it for flavor lmao. that being said, small warning for some toxic queerplatonic partner vibes between will and lila, but the vibe is still mostly lighthearted, it's not too heavy or extreme. also, they're working on it, okay :') they're teenagers who grew up in abusive/traumatizing environments (which isn't referenced in the fic but it definitely shapes the way i characterize them), they don't exactly know how to navigate a healthy relationship yet but they're trying goddammit dskjfkdsafj

.....uh, if it's not obvious, i don't remember how i do summaries on tumblr fics ngl. there'll probably be a cleaner one when this gets posted onto ao3 in a day or two, so watch out for that if you'd prefer to read this on there :P tbh depending on how tired i am when i get home from work i might just go ahead and post it on there later today anyway oops

anyway, onto the fic now, hope y'all enjoy! :)

William's curled up on his side, his upper body in Lila's lap and her hands kneading though his hair in a way that mostly feels good, when she suddenly asks the question.

"Is it called a crush because you want to crush them?"

If this were closer to the beginning of their friendship, when he wasn't already used to weird comments like these from her, William might've sat up in shock, giving her a wide eyed expression of surprise she loves to make fun of him for. This is far from the most outrageous thing she's ever said to him at this point, however, so instead, he just furrows his brow and shifts in her lap a little, not even bothering to open his eyes.

"Lila, what on earth are you talking about...?"

She's quiet for a moment, her hands pausing in his hair. He lets out a little whine at the loss of feeling, and she huffs softly before continuing, using a little bit more of her nails than she was before.

"Let's say...like...maybe there's this person someone thinks is...pretty," she says, the words awkward and stilted in a way he's never heard from her before. "And because they're so pretty, that person keeps...fantasizing about...squeezing them. In their arms. Or under them."

"Ew," he says on instinct, his fingers moving to fiddle with the black ring around the middle finger of his left hand. "Is this hypothetical person you, Lila?"

"No, dumbass!" she says, and, well, that almost sounds convincing. "I'm just...asking. For a friend."

"But I'm your only friend?" he asks, genuinely confused. His confusion then turns to pain, however, as she pulls on his hair—apparently she found that insulting. "Ow! Lila!"

"I have friends. Mainly friends you picked out for us—" and here, she huffs, sounding put upon about his choice in companionship, as though she has no choice in whether she hangs out with them too, "—but friends nonetheless."

...okay, admittedly, he understands where the offense came from now. But still, she claims that he's her only friend enough that of course he would make that assumption, and it's kind of not fair for her to punish him for words he's repeating from her. And also, he must reiterate, ow.

"Anyway, it's for a friend," she insists, sounding a bit wounded. "God. Don't be a smartass, Will, it's not flattering on you."

"I'm not trying to be a smartass, you're just—ugh, nevermind," he grumbles, letting his eyes flutter open and sulking at a vague point in the distance. His hand drifts toward the hem of her skirt, and he plays with it absently, rubbing his fingers over the soft fabric. "Putting all that aside, well...um, sorry to your friend, but I don't think I'm the right person to ask about that. I still don't really...understand all that stuff."

"Ugh, right, I forgot you were a fucking loser."

"I'm not a loser!" he protests, but he immediately feels childish for it. He flips onto his stomach to hide his face in her lap, and is instantly rewarded with one of her hands on the nape of his neck, a warm, comforting weight. "That stuff is just...really complicated..."

"Yeah, well, that's cuz you're a loser who's bad with people, it's okay to admit it."

There's a twinge of fondness to the insult, and despite himself, he finds himself smiling a little at her tone. Still, he decides to retaliate by lightly pinching her on the calf, just under the crook of her knee.

"Ow! Will!"

She then retaliates to him by pulling on his hair again, harder this time despite only using one hand this time. He lets out a sharp cry of pain and smacks her on the knee, pulling out of her lap briefly to escape her wrath. She drops her hands once he's fully off of her and sitting up on his knees, and he scowls at her unamusedly. She scowls back at him, the two of them staring at each other for a moment with equal mild annoyance.

Then, face unchanging, Lila pats her thigh, looking even more annoyed when he doesn't immediately lay back down. "Well?"

He huffs, but obliges, flopping back in her lap, this time on his back so he can continue to scowl at her. One of her hands returns to his hair, and the other one grabs one of his hands, though it feels less like she's just trying to hold his hand and more like she's trying to restrain him from pinching her again. Which, really, is super unfair, given that he only pinched her because she was being mean to him. And she pulled his hair first. And because she always does shit like that to him, and he deserves a chance to defend himself...

...but she is petting his hair in a way he likes again, and her face has softened a little, her lips now in that tiny but genuine sort of half smile he's only seen her use on him. He smiles back at her, wobbly and crooked but just as genuine, letting out a little laugh despite how genuinely annoyed he was moments prior.

"You're the worst," he says, and though he kind of means it he also says it with all the affection in the world. "I am sorry I can't answer your question, though."

"Hey, you also suck," Lila says back, but she coos it in the same tone you'd use on a mischievous kitten. "And it's fine, honestly. It wasn't a serious question, anyway. I was just wondering."

They fall quiet for a moment, and William's eyes fall to their enjoined hands, watching as Lila idly traces his fingers with her thumb. He's struck, then, with the oddest thought—that being, the thought that he does love her, in some weird way, despite the constant bickering and occasional minor physical attacks. That no matter how hard she makes it for him, he cares about her, and he wishes she would let him do that without constantly trying to fight on him on it. That he's glad she loves him too, in her own weird way, because he knows she does but he rarely gets to hear her say it out loud.

Not that he could ever say all that to her, of course. She'd probably just make fun of him.

Instead, he says, "If it is you with the crush...you know I'd be here to listen if you wanted to talk about it, right?"

He's fully prepared to let the conversation end there, but she surprises him by letting out a sigh and saying, "I don't even know if it is a crush."

He raises his eyebrows at that, trying not to get too excited at the information he was just given. She'd hate it if he said it out loud, but she's really easy to scare away on these rare moments where she's being open or vulnerable. "What do you mean?" he asks, trying not to let his voice soften too much.

She groans loudly at that, but she hasn't stopped talking, which, score. "I dunno, William, like...the crush question was kind of a joke? But it also kind of wasn't?"

"...elaborate?"

She groans louder, loud enough to startle him a little. She must feel him jump, because she gives his forehead a light pat before entangling her fingers back in his curls, the hair petting having mostly stopped now. "When I think about this person...I want to hold them as tight as possible and not let go. And squeeze their hand and just...hold it. And..." She grimaces, like it pains her to admit it. "And kiss them, maybe. On their stupid fucking face. Among...other things that I suppose I will graciously spare you."

She taps his ring as she says that, making him giggle. "Thank you. I appreciate that," he says, smiling broadly up at her for a moment, before his face falls back into an inquisitive frown. "Uh, but, Lila? I'm no expert, but that...kind of sounds like a crush? I think?"

Lila chews on her lip for a moment, as if considering what she's going to say next. When she finally speaks, William feels his heart cease to beat in his chest.

"I know, but like...a lot of that is stuff I want to do with you."

William feels his face grow hot, and he stammers, ice cold panic rushing through his veins. Yeah, he loves Lila, but it's not—it's not like that, he's not comfortable with—she knows he's not—

"Not the—not the sex stuff!" Lila says suddenly, giving him a harsh shake. "I didn't say I wanted to do all of that with you, take a fucking breath, Will!"

Oh, he did stop breathing for a second there, didn't he? He inhales deeply as she told him to, letting her lightly push him upright into a sitting position on the bed. He twists around a bit so the two of them are side by side, and she immediately tugs him closer until his head is on her shoulder, awkwardly patting his back in a way he thinks she thinks is comforting. It's a little much, honestly, given that his moment of panic really was just a moment—it was instant relief hearing that she wasn't into him in that way, and it was kind of silly for his brain to jump to that conclusion in the first place anyway since he mostly knows where they'd drawn the lines in their relationship, even if they've never properly talked about it—but he likes these rare occasions where she attempts to fuss over him, so he's not going to protest it. It's kind of sweet, really, even if it's obvious that she has no idea how to comfort another human being.

"Ugh," she says, sounding more embarrassed than exasperated. "Ugh, I said that in the stupidest way, sorry." Then, after a pause, she adds, "I mean...it's all just stupid, anyway."

"Aww, no it's not," William says gently, very comfortable in his place nestled against her side. "I guess I get what you mean though. I know I don't have a crush on you, but I like cuddling you and stuff. I'd also feel weird if I suddenly felt the same thing toward someone else but with...other stuff too."

"Yeah," Lila says, sounding mopey. Probably because she's moping, if he had to guess. "It's not just that, either, wanting to touch this person the way I touch you also feels...different. Different in a way that's hard to pin down." She grabs his hand, having lost it in the shuffle of him sitting up, and once again starts tracing his fingers, running her thumb from the back of his hand, over his knuckles, down to his fingernails. "Like when I do this, it's nice, but I don't do it and think about you as my boyfriend. That'd be disgusting."

William barks out a laugh at that. Technically, it could be an insult toward him, but... "I understand what you're getting at, yeah. I want to be close to you, but you're not, like, my girlfriend or anything, and I wouldn't really want you to be. You're just my friend, but, like...a friend I want to cuddle sometimes."

"Stop saying that we cuddle," Lila scoffs, but the usual harshness of her tone is still rather muted. "But...yeah. Exactly. It's different, and it's weird."

William hums sympathetically, giving her arm a light pat. "Yeah," he says quietly. "That does sound weird." Then, after a pause, "I'm sorry. I wish I could help you more."

Lila huffs, letting her cheek rest against his head. "I wish you could help me more too," she bemoans, interlocking their fingers and giving his hand a light squeeze. "But, whatever. Just talking about it was nice, so you're not completely useless..."

Once again, William just chuckles at that. He can hear the unsaid Thank you in her voice, and he appreciates it, even if he does wish she would just be straightforwardly nice to him sometimes. Hell, not even just to him, oftentimes he wishes she would be nice in general.

But...she's working on it. He thinks. There's been a notable difference in the way she speaks to Martha, Ellie, and Regina, anyway. She's still on guard around Jim and Mike, and god, he doesn't really know what her deal with Tanya is, but she's friendlier with those three, at least. And...she's been more gentle with him, too. At the very least there's been less pinching.

He's proud of her. Which is another thing he can't tell her if he doesn't want her to laugh in his face, but, hey. Maybe one of these days.

"...you wanna lay down now?"

Her question pulls him out of his introspection, and William hums in assent, finally pulling his head off of her shoulder. "Are we gonna take a nap now?" he asks, rubbing at his face absently. "I got pretty close to falling asleep before, well, you know."

She sniffs, pulling her legs up on the bed and stretching out behind him, her arms and legs reaching each end of the mattress before she rolls back onto her side and brings them back in again. "I mean, you can sleep if you want. I don't know if I will."

"You're not at all tired?" he asks, curling up on his side next to her. They're face to face, now, and he can see the exhaustion in her face, as well as the slight flush left over from their conversation.

"Not really," she sniffs. "I mean, I don't think I am enough to fall asleep. I just want to rest my eyes a little."

"Oh, okay," he says, scooting a little closer to her. "I might fall asleep. You didn't want to talk more, did you?"

Lila shakes her head rather than verbally answer, and William smiles to himself. She's probably going to fall asleep too, judging by the way she's gotten quieter, but even if she doesn't, he knows she'll let him sleep if he needs to. Unless something important happens. Or if she gets too bored, which is something important in Lila's eyes.

She kind of is the worst, but luckily for her, he kind of does love her.

He lets his eyes fall closed then, pressing further into her warmth until he's tucked up under her chin. She doesn't fight him on it, instead wrapping a loose arm over him, and he knows he's very close to drifting off when he hears her ask one last thing.

"You're really not going to ask who my hypothetical crush is on, are you?"

It's an interesting remark—it almost sounds like she's disappointed. Still, it's not interesting enough for him to open his eyes. "I kinda figured I wouldn't be able to get it out of you," he mumbles, his voice muffled by her collarbone. "Why?"

"...I dunno. I just thought you would ask," she says, starting to sound close to sleep herself.

"Did you want me too?"

"No." She says it too quickly. And then amends, "Maybe..."

He laughs sleepily, resting one curled up hand on the small of her waist, wanting to be closer, trying to absorb the warmth she's emanating—she's always run weirdly warm, while he runs weirdly cold. He tries not too think too hard about the way that makes them fit so well together. "Tell you what. When I wake up, I'll pester you about it as much as you want me to. Is that okay?"

"I didn't want you to pester me," she protests, scowl audible in her voice. "Just ask."

He laughs again, suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of contentment. "'m gonna pester you so hard," he mumbles, picturing the dirty look he knows she's giving him despite his still closed eyes. "'m not gonna leave you alone until you give me answers. S'only fair."

"How's that fair?"

"I mean...you pester me when I try to keep secrets from you."

"I don't..." Lila protests, but she sounds amusingly unsure. "Besides, since when did you try to keep secrets from me anyway...?"

"Mm. I stopped tryin' cuz you'd always get them outta me."

"Well, that just sounds like your fault."

"...maybe you've got me there," he mumbles, chuckling softly. "I jus' think it's my turn to needle somethin' out of you this time, mmkay?"

"Yeah, well, good luck with that," Lila grumbles, making him giggle more.

The two of them then lapse into a comfortable silence, aside from their quiet breathing. William is just about asleep when he feels more than hears Lila murmur something against his hair.

"Love you, Will. No matter what happens."

He smiles widely at that. She must think he's asleep—rarely does she say that she loves him without him saying it first. Even then, he usually receives it with a (nonetheless fond) eye roll, so hearing it now sounding so genuine is a nice treat.

"Love you too, Lila," he mumbles back, his voice slurred from exhaustion. "Love you so so much."

Given the way she tenses, he was probably right in thinking that she thought he was asleep. Still, she doesn't respond with a protest or a quip like she normally does, whether because of her tiredness, or maybe she just wanted to let a nice moment linger for once. Either way, he'll count that as a win.

It doesn't take him long to drift off after that, the smile not leaving his face even as he sleeps.

#who's lila #who's lila?#william clarke #lila #will/lila #queerplatonically but still. them :) <3 #also #implied lila/tanya #it's vague about who's she's crushing on tbh but that's the authorial intent lmao #if you wanna read it as another ship i don't really mind tbh but if i theoretically add another installment to this au just know #that that's where this is heading lol #marshy writes #this'll end up on the main account and not the side account cuz there's no agere and/or whump here #i mean some whump fics end up on main. it's about the vibes #but this doesn't have whump so that automatically puts this on main #and frankly i rarely post to my main ao3 account anyway so it needs some love okay #i know none of y'all asked but ahglkasdjfklds #on the off chance someone was curious? maybe?#yeah idk lmao anyway. expect this on ao3 soon 👍

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hepatosaurus · 4 months

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2023 AO3 Wrapped!

I had a lot of fun tracking my fic reading in 2022, so... I did it again in 2023! Still fun, still both completely unsurprising and a little illuminating at the same time. I definitely read less fic this past year—only 77 across 12 fandoms, compared to last year's 110—but that's OK. Life happens, and I'm very aware that I'm never going to be a person who reads a million words per month (or 100 books a year). Stats-wise, I can't guarantee that these numbers are completely accurate, but they feel right and that's what counts.

Word Count

971,646 words! Numbers fluctuated throughout the year with one real dead zone (lol @ June - I was busy! sibling got married! played a lot of Zelda!), and I kind of petered out by the end of the year. On the plus side, my brain can handle reading actual books again, which was fun. On the minus side: less fic. Oh well. (Also: May's number isn't entirely accurate, but I had to put rubicon's final word count somewhere. No, I haven't finished reading the complete edited fic yet, but that's when the last chapter draft hit my inbox, soooo there.) Most fics were on the shorter side, unsurprisingly (average length was ~12k); I think rubicon was the only one over 100k. I did read more 50–100k fic compared to last year though, which was nice.

(Putting the rest behind a cut. Obligatory warning that this is mostly about Fire Emblem, but what else is new?)

Top Fandoms

My FE3H reading took a HUGE hit this year, falling from 87.3% to... 83.1%. Ouch, how will my faves recover. Really though, this was yet another reminder that although I certainly watched and loved a lot of new movies and tv shows, read new books, played new video games (ok, it was mostly BOTW/TOTK), all things that could conceivably lead me to check out greener pastures, I am still in an extremely monofandom phase in terms of actual fic reading/fandom participation (four years now!). And honestly, I'm fine with that! I'm having fun, blorbos are still my blorbos, there's still a ton of fic I haven't read yet (new and old), and I'm in a nice/quiet/drama-free corner of fandom. Besides, the average fandom lifespan is too short these days anyway. I'm doing my part to break the cycle. :P

I do wish I had the brain space to read a little more widely, though. I was so close to going on a zelink bender after I finished BOTW, but life got busy and it just... didn't happen. Maybe in 2024. Severance and fandom juggernaut SoftBank Next 30-Year Vision tried their best—two fics each! impressive, lol—but the heart wants what it wants, and what it wants is anime chess pieces kissing (and/or killing) each other.

Top Authors

56 individual authors, with the top spot going to...desmodus! which does not surprise me tbh; they write such good fic. Looking at these particular results was an interesting reminder that I'm really not someone who methodically/voraciously reads through an author's entire back catalogue, at least not currently. Like, besides the named authors, there were four more with two fics each and the rest had only one each. Next time, I'm almost tempted to see if I can factor in word count to get a better idea of how much time I really spent reading each author, especially since I might (hypothetically) read multiple forgettable 1–5k fics by Author A, and then a single memorable/meaty 95k fic by Author B that sticks with me for years. Is Author A really more of a "top" author? Not really. That's more work on my part though, so we'll see what happens. (All of this waffling could be solved by making an actual rec list for once, but shhhhh.)

Top Pairings

Surprising absolutely no one, I'm still in sylvix hell. Congrats to None for jumping a couple spots in the rankings, though! A solid showing. I need to get better at tracking platonic relationships, but to be fair, those tags are underutilized on AO3 to begin with (or not used consistently), and I typically—but not always—stick with the main tags chosen by the author.

Also, please note that the ship in sixth place was entirely thanks to alphabetical sorting (it was a six-way tie), but I'm keeping it as is because it makes me laugh/implies some sort of character growth on my part that may or may not exist.

Top Characters

Lol. In my defense(?), Sylvain did drop almost three whole points this year; he couldn't even hit 60%! What kind of blorbo...?! Jokes aside, it's an entirely expected list. My Blue Lions/Golden Deer bias persists, but I'm not sure what determined when I logged "Blue Lions Students" vs. their actual names—probably half laziness, half just following what the author picked. I did love seeing Ask A Manager's Allison Green chilling at the bottom of this list with Bakugo, though. I'm sure she'll be fine. (And god knows Mr. King Explosion Murder and the rest of my top 20 could stand to follow her advice.)

(Also: apologies to Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, as I see his illustrious surname was cut off accidentally. Forgive me.)

Ratings, Categories, etc.

Also pretty unsurprising! I considered cutting my NSFW tracker at the beginning of last year since it's a little redundant, but that never happened. It might come in handy one day, especially if I'm looking through my spreadsheet for individualized recs. I was surprised that the Multi category was so low, but that could be due to inconsistencies in how people tag their fic? And/or how I logged them. Sometimes it means poly, but sometimes it just means that there are multiple kinds of ships in a fic. Either way, it's something to consider for 2024's tracker. Consistency! Let's strive for it! ✨

Tags & Tropes

Also about what I expected, though I was honestly shocked to see Established Relationship ranking so high? And Friends to Lovers so low? What is going ON here. (The former is probably partially due to mikey desmodus's excellent married sylvix fics.) Sorry to Horse Feelings, though; I made a dedicated tag on my google form and everything, but there was only the one fic in the end :(

Etc: Commenting, Rereading, Reccing, and Bookmarks

Commenting: My only real fic-reading "goal" in 2023 was to get my commenting percentage up to at least 50% and...I did that! Just barely, but 51.9% is 51.9%. Obsessive media tracking works!

Rereads: As expected, and pretty in line with last year (with a tiny increase). I'm just not a big rereader in general, though I did do a fair bit of rereading WIPs to prepare for new chapters. (Not sure how I classified those, come to think of it...)

Bookmarks: Also pretty similar to last year (with a tiny decrease).

Reccing: Now this DID surprise me. That "Yes" percentage seems almost absurdly high, jumping from 46.4% to 61%, and my "No"s dropped a ton too (22.7% to 5.2%). Either I got nicer or I just read better fic. :P Leaning towards the former, but probably a bit of both tbh. My one DNF was a longfic WIP that didn't spark joy and was becoming a hateread, which is rare for me - byeeeee.

Takeaways

By now my tracking form has become part of my fic-reading routine (read - track - comment/etc), and I can't see that changing any time soon. Obviously not everyone wants to (or should!) engage with fic this way, and I can definitely see how it might suck the joy out of reading for some people, but for me, it's been a good mental exercise and a really helpful commenting aid. Also, it's just fun. I like thinking critically about media! I like having a place to record my silly little thoughts about the silly little fanfics I read! All in all, I highly recommend doing something similar if you, like me, get a rush from making lists and compiling data, and if you like complimenting people but sometimes need that extra push to actually tell them and post a comment.

Goals-wise... I don't really do those lol. Probably to continue commenting and maybe try to read more widely, but honestly I'm probably not going to change my habits intentionally. Besides, looking at what I've read so far, yes, it's already half Fire Emblem, but also half gen and half F/F with nary a Sylvain in sight*! We got History Boys, we got Haikyuu filk, we got Ingrid and a MILF! Who knows what's around the corner?

(*This is quite literally only because I haven't logged rubicon yet. Don't worry, he's coming.)

#fandom #fic tracking #ao3 wrapped #fandom navelgazing ahoy!#and fire emblem obviously.#also a bit of a rehash for anyone who follows my fe twt but i get to ramble more here

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mcalhenwrites · 30 days

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I'm eventually going to put at least Seasons (and its side stories) back on AO3. I want it to remain free-to-read. First, though, I have to get through this Geckos edit and self-publish that. Once that's finished, I have some other stories I want to tackle and rewrite - some will be published in ebook/paperback format - but I do want to tackle my edits for Seasons and its side stories over time. I've already added new chapters, so the main story of Seasons will likely be reposted entirely. I'm also on the fence about renaming it. I know "Seasons" matches well enough, but I can't help but wish the name didn't seem like a lazy placeholder. (And it sort of was, it just... fit. Really well.) I can't predict when this reposting will occur, is what I'm saying. I just ask people to be patient with me. As for other stories I don't think can be self-published due to the content, I'm not sure. I'm wondering if I can self-publish some of it. Yes, that means a paywall for my writing. But... I also need to learn that I'm allowed to live, allowed to make money for my work, etc. Not on fanfiction. All that is free. I just probably won't post any for a good long while, and tbh, the two Xillia fics and two FFXV fics I want to finish, I'm probably going to rewrite most of the chapters and heavily edit the rest. Don't know where that might lead to reposting on AO3 or if I will swap out chapters with fixed ones. Depends on if I end up adding chapters, bc that gets messy fast with subs already thinking they read chapters x-y. (tbh I avoid one of those fandoms religiously and haven't met a person in it who hasn't been hurt by its drama, so I really hate posting any writing I make for it. And yes, I do still write for it, I still love my OTP.)

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blondiest · 1 year

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blondie out until march 15 or something... if you see me on here straight up yell at me, besties. anyone & everyone i've talked to or interacted with on here and on ao3 has been a total sweetie pie and i'm extremely fond of all of you. i mean it when i say that writing voted most likely & connecting with people over hellcheer was the highlight of 2022 for me. y'all were a source of comfort in an otherwise sorta bleak year tbh. anyway here's hoping once i put the nail in the coffin of this fucking project i might have time to give VML the time & care it deserves ❣️

edit: i can be found on discord under the username mbst#5653 but i may also be pretty unresponsive on there bc of school & work responsibilities. still figured i would include it tho ❤️

#linking my ao3 just bc im going to pin this and i feel like the link should be in my pinned post lol #byeeeeeeeee also sorry to anyone who has tagged me in anything recently i am a mess ❣️#blondiepost

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shootsun · 2 years

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Stuck in the Shadows with You

This is the next bit, but I'm not really happy with it, so I'm gonna wait to post it on ao3 for a day or two, and prob edit it differently, but here's what i've been workin on the past few days lol

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edit: I've updated it! It's not super different, but i think it runs a little smoother now tbh

I've also put it up on ao3 as well!

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When Macaque becomes awake enough to realize there’s sunlight streaming through the window and onto his face, he grumbles and turns, nuzzling deeper into his pillow. Something shifts beneath him and he frowns, tracing his hands along his mattress. It seems different this morning, and it’s only when Wukong lets out a strangled sound that Macaque realizes his mistake.

“Fuck!” Macaque bolts up and lands on the floor, his legs still tangled with the Sage’s. He kicks free and scoots along the floor and before thinking about it, portals into a standing position a few feet away.

There’s no burn from using his magic, and he chews on his lip as he looks back over to Wukong, still struggling to untangle himself from the myriad of blankets on the couch, his ears gold and determinedly avoiding Macaque’s eyes.

“Breakfast and then talk?” He offers, shucking the final blanket into a pile to the side.

“Yeah.” Macaque clears his throat. “That sounds great.”

He follows Wukong into the kitchen and watches as Wukong throws together a smoothie (mainly peach based of course) before the golden monkey splits it into two glasses and hands him the second. He can’t help but notice the dark circles under the other’s eyes and feels a twinge of guilt.

“Thanks,” He mutters, and grabs the container of strawberries before Wukong can put it back in the fridge with the rest of the various fruits that went into their drinks.

“Please tell me you’re going to eat more than just that today.” Wukong raises an eyebrow as Macaque scowls at him.

“Are you? I’ve only seen you eat a handful of times in the last week.”

“I don’t need to eat. I’m immortal.”

The lingering ‘And you’re not,’ is left unsaid, but it still leaves a bitter taste in Macaque’s mouth, and he has the urge to spit his mouthful of peach flavoured smoothie in Wukong’s face. He swallows with a grimace and feels his appetite wither as he thinks about telling Wukong about who he was fighting last night.

And the reason why Wukong looks like he’s about to pass out in his drink. The golden monkey might act like an idiot, but he’s not stupid, he’s bound to put two and two together soon enough; better to be the one who rips the bandage off than the one who lets it fester.

'I don't want to do this without an easy escape.' Macaque thinks grimly to himself.

“I’ve got something I want to tell you.” He swallows the last bit of his smoothie nervously, and twists the tail end of his scarf around his fingers. “Can we talk in the living room?”

This time, Wukong trails behind him as Macaque leads them back towards the couch. The god sits down and gestures for him to start as he paces on the rug.

“Well?” Wukong asks, his voice carefully controlled.

“I tracked down a few of the demons who’ve got it out for me last night. It was those fake Taoist gods and some of their cronies.”

“That explains the ozone smell, but how did they kick your ass? Last I checked, you could at least throw a mountain.” Wukong tilts his head and gives a confused half smile.

“I’ll… get to that bit. My shadow…” Macaque hesitates before continuing, “I’ve been…draining your power.”

“Oh. Uh. Yeah.” The god almost looks uncomfortable, but he’s not…mad.

“What?” Macaque blinks in surprise.

“Is…is that it? No, ‘You betrayed me!’ ‘I trusted you, get out, never come back!’?” Macaque paces faster, keeping an eye on every movement Wukong makes, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.

“Um…No? Besides, I already kind of…knew?” Wukong winces as the demon’s jaw drops.

“What do you mean, you ‘already knew’?!” He sputters, falling backwards on the couch.

“Listen, you’re not nearly as subtle as you think you are. You talk out loud to yourself, like, all the time. I might not have your hearing, but I’m not deaf, Macaque.” The god rolls his eyes before continuing, haunching forward with his elbows on his knees.

“And it was a little obvious? Every time your shadow would… uh. Cuddle. Afterwards, I’d be a little tired, but nothing that was too serious. That, and after last night… It was just consistent enough for me to put the pieces together.” Wukong shrugs.

“Then why aren’t you kicking me out? I’m literally draining your powers, and you’re letting me!” Macaque yells, throwing his hands in the air.

"The last time I did that-"

"The last time you did that, you hurt MK." Wukong growls, his eyes flashing red, and then he composes himself.

“I wanted to know why first, and I figured if I asked you outright, you wouldn’t tell me.” Wukong shrugs again, giving the black furred demon a side glance.

“I probably wouldn’t have.” Macaque sighs. He glares at his reflection in the TV in front of them, and his shadow gives a wink before melding back with his magic.

“And then, you reminded me that your shadow wasn’t you, but had his own mind of sorts. And that led me to thinking that you might not even know your shadow was draining me.” Wukong says, twisting his hands together and then unlacing his fingers over and over.

“I didn’t know, not at first.”

“So, I’m asking now, and I want the truth, Macaque. Why is your shadow draining my power?”

“I’m not exactly self-sustaining anymore.” Macaque mutters, glaring at the floor, determinedly avoiding the other’s perceptive golden eyes.

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t have enough energy to survive on my own dumbass.”

“So, what?” Wukong throws his arms into the air. “You’re just gonna die? Just like that?”

“No, I’m already dying, Wukong.” He glares at the other monkey. “I’m not supposed to be in the realm of the living right now, and it’s taking everything I’ve got to stay here.”

“Stop using magic for stupid shit then! Don’t think I haven’t noticed all my silverware going missing, Macaque!” Wukong points a clawed finger in Macaque’s face, and he slaps the hands away with a growl.

“Of course, you’d focus on the silverware.” Macaque hisses and tries to stand, but Wukong grabs his arm before he can leave.

“NO, YOU IDIOT – GODS, you’re so frustrating!!!” Wukong pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales heavily, releasing Macaque slowly.

Macaque raises an eyebrow as Wukong takes a deep breath.

“I just want you to take care of yourself.” He says softly.

“Big words from Mister ‘Oh, I’m the Monkey King, I’ll Be Fine!’. Don’t think I didn’t see you fall off that cliff the other day and then try to walk away like you didn’t have a branch sticking out of your gut.”

Wukong winces and his eyebrow twitches as he tries once more for strained diplomacy. “Hey now, I’m working on that. Can we just… can we try not to be as self-destructive, together?”

“Together? I promised the kid I wouldn’t start shit, wouldn’t try and start fights or anything, and I’ve been doing that the only way I know how – by avoiding you, because I still want to deck you in the face every time I see you.” Macaque scoffs, stepping away from the now scowling god.

“You wanna deck me?” Wukong’s face twitches and his fangs sharpen as he spits out, “The feeling’s mutual! You’re lucky MK is such a saint, he made me promise to try to get along, and the first thing you do is drape your shadow all over me and then won’t look me in the eye for the rest of the day. It just feels like you’re fucking with me.” Wukong is standing now, and the air crackles with energy.

“So, you’re fine with me stealing your magic, but not a little cuddling?” Macaque laughs cruelly, and Wukong sputters angrily.

“No! You’re missing the point!” The god curls his hands into fists and Macaque bares his teeth as he steps back.

“That sounded like the point you were trying to make, Peaches. Or you got any other grievances you’d like to dig up?”

“You know what? Yeah, I do! You’ve caused nothing but problems for MK, and for everyone else the past couple of months – you living here has been the quietest trauma free month for everyone else.” Wukong snarls.

“You kidding me? I watched MK get launched through a brick wall yesterday; the kid still has demons, and I’m just not one of them.” Macaque scoffs, rolling his eyes as he waves his hand.

“Have you even apologized to him yet?” Distain coats Wukong's tone, and the dark furred demon can't help the irritated twitch of his eyebrow.

“Of course I have! Who do you take me for? I’m not as selfish as you are.”

“Oh, I’m the selfish one?”

“Yeah, you are.”

“You’re in my house, eating my food, getting my protection-”

“Fat lot of good your protection has ever done me,” Macaque snarks.

“Well maybe if you weren’t being stupid and running off on your own every chance you get, you wouldn’t be getting hurt!” Wukong glares and crosses his arms with a huff.

Macaque rears back and punches Wukong, sending him flying backwards onto the couch and flipping the whole thing over with a crash before he bolts towards the front door.

Wukong growls from behind him, and then he’s being tackled to the floor with a grunt, strong arms wrapping around his waist.

“Get off of me!”

“Get your head out of your ass!”

Macaque wordlessly hisses as he tries to portal away, but Wukong just sinks through the shadows with him and out into open air.

“Quit using your magic before you die, stupid!” Wukong whacks the back of his head, and he blindly elbows behind him, hoping to catch the god in the gut.

“Like you fucking care!” He growls back, and when the golden monkey loosens his grip with a muffled ‘oof’, Macaque slips out from between his claws.

“I don’t want to fight you!” Wukong bellows as Macaque scrambles away from him.

“I’d kick your ass if you tried,” Macaque pants, holding up his fists and trying not to sway as Wukong looks at him with something too close to pity on his face.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Wukong steps closer as the dark furred monkey steps back, keeping the same distance between them. “Just come back inside, and we can figure something out. Please.”

“Let me repeat once more, since you’re so clearly hard of hearing, ‘Like you fucking care.’” The demon taunts, summoning shadows to swirl at his feet, ignoring when a slight burning starts once more in his chest.

“I do care.” Wukong protests as he widens his stance, and raises his arms, preparing for whatever Macaque was about to throw at him.

“I don’t believe you. And if you’re gonna fight me, just get it over with already. Do what you do best, Wukong. Go right ahead and tear me apart again.” Macaque bites out, his teeth clacking with every strained word.

I didn’t.” The god shakes his head, his eyes wide as he steps back this time as Macaque presses forward, backing him to the wooden wall of his hut.

“You’re right, you shattered my skull, how careless of me to forget how you killed me.” The demon rumbles lowly. He drops his glamour, and the god pales at the scars that are grooved into his face. As Wukong shakes his head, Macaque releases the shadows, letting them chase back into their original positions, and making Wukong flinch as one skitters past his face.

“I didn’t mean to!” Wukong shouts, squeezing his eyes shut as Macaque steps forward.

“Sure, you didn’t. You just didn’t stop when I was begging you to either,” Macaque slams a fist next to Wukong’s head and the god takes a shuddering breath before shoving him away.

“Stop, just stop, just shut up, Macaque!” Wukong blindly switches their positions, throwing Macaque into the side of the hut as his hands wrapped around the other.

“S-see? There you are.” Macaque chokes out, a manic grin on his face as he digs his claws into Wukong’s forearms. “You never mean to, right?”

“Monkey King?” A voice calls out, and both Macaque and Wukong freeze as MK comes around the corner, a concerned look on his face.

“Oh. Am I…interrupting something?” MK stops, training his eyes on the roof of the hut, determinedly not making eye contact with either monkey.

“Bud! No, no, we were just…talking.” Wukong releases Macaque, and the demon rubs his throat for a moment before directing a weak grin towards MK.

“Yeah, kid. Just two old friends having a lovely chat about the past.” He throws Wukong a dirty look, which the god ignores.

“Right.” MK mutters before reaching into his pocket. “I found something which might help you out Mac.”

“Red said it was like… a battery or something? I don’t know, I wasn’t actually listening when he was explaining, but Monkey King was complaining the other day that you kept draining his energy or something? And I thought, well. I thought this might make things less…” MK hesitates, glancing between Macaque’s slightly murderous glare and Wukong’s embarrassed panic.

“Less tense?” The kid trails off weakly as Macaque stalks forward, swiping the green glowing bracelet out of his hand.

“Thanks.” The demon mummers before sinking into the shadows and reappearing on the roof in time to watch Wukong groan at his successor, grasping him ever so gently by the shoulders.

“Why did you bring it up like we talk about him during training?” Wukong whines as he shakes MK.

His successor frowns and escapes the monkey’s hold easily. “Because he’s all you talk about? Every time I’ve come over, it’s all ‘Macaque did this today’ and ‘Mac’s so annoying, you’ll never believe what he did this time’ and ‘I hate him so much, he’s got the prettiest eyes and’-”

“Hey!” MK yelps as Wukong lifts him above his head, and then MK squirms out of the god’s hold before tackling the monkey to the ground, the two of them rolling to a stop as MK laughs. Macaque can only stare at the gentle care Wukong takes to make sure MK’s head is cradled as they hit the ground.

“Are you sure you guys are, okay? It looked pretty serious when I interrupted.” MK says softly as he sits up.

Wukong winces before faking a smile, “Yeah, I just…overreacted. I’ll figure out a way to apologize.” The god looks up and makes eye contact with Macaque, and the demon huffs before falling once more through the shadows and into his dojo.

He’s not going to give Wukong a chance to find him.

Macaque looks at the bracelet clutched in his hand with interest as it twinkled merrily. “Power source indeed.”

@winterpower98

@animemoonprincess

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