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roosterforme · 4 days

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 4 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: As you and Bradley start to blur the line between professional and personal correspondence, you feel yourself falling for him even more. He has charmed your students as well as you, and you decide to continue taking a chance on him.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley sounding hot

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley spent an hour bundling up all of his letters to your students, getting them ready to be sent back to California. Sure, he wanted to impress you, but he also couldn't deny that he was attached to hearing from Oliver, Violet, Jayden and everyone else. And according to you, they were just as happy to hear from him.

Without giving it a second thought, Bradley went all in with your personal email address. An account where he assumed you could say and send anything you wanted to. One that nobody else was monitoring. His thoughts strayed constantly over the past few hours to what that might mean. What did you deem too personal for your school account?

You told him you were single, and you made it seem like you were into him. You said he gave you butterflies, and now he desperately wanted to see this thing through. When he closed his eyes, he could picture the photos of your smiling face, and he felt a little dizzy. He wanted you to tell him everything. He wanted you to wait for him so he could take you on a date. Or several. He wanted to know what your lips tasted like.

It sounded like your ex was a real tool if he didn't appreciate what you did and how hard you worked. You taught eighteen kids enough about aviation that they asked Bradley some pertinent questions and brought up information that was relevant to his job. He was impressed as hell, and he thought he could be better than what you had before. He already knew without a shadow of a doubt that you were better than Vanessa. It was obvious.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw."

He turned toward the voice calling his name as soon as he dropped the package with your name on it off at the mail center. "Hey," he called out to the mechanic who let him take those photos for your class a few weeks ago. He read his jumpsuit again just to be sure. "What's up, Marty?"

He jerked his thumb toward the main deck and said, "I just got around to unpacking some new engine components. You still writing to those kids?"

"Yeah."

"I'm about to do some repairs if you want to take some more pictures or a video for them."

Bradley had been planning on stalking his inbox for the rest of the day in the hopes that you'd write back and comment on his brief missive telling you he wanted the conversation to go further, but this seemed better than driving himself crazy. He could practically picture you and your kids flipping through some photos and watching a cool video he managed to snag for you. "Yeah, Marty. Let me grab my phone, and I'll meet you out in the shop."

---------------------------

After you read the email from Bradley where he called you Gorgeous, you were up most of the night. First, you screeched and almost spilled hot tea all over yourself as you rushed to set your mug down on the coffee table so you could giggle and kick your feet in the air. Then you read and reread the short email for about five minutes, curled up in a little ball with your phone right in front of your face. Then you sprawled along your couch and let yourself imagine what he might be like in person.

It was too early to get your hopes up about ever getting that far, but you couldn't seem to stop yourself from thinking about it. You hummed softly, because in your daydream, he lived in San Diego and asked you out on a date, and he was a perfect gentleman until you didn't want him to be any longer. You didn't even consider what reality might hold, because you were sure you wouldn't like it as much.

But for now, he was on board with going further. Your expectations of things included chatting about your likes and dislikes as well as learning more about him. "I'd like to take it further," you read softly, trying to imagine it in a masculine voice. But what did that sentence mean for him? You sat up on the couch. Surely he wasn't going to turn into a pig and start sending you anything too raunchy. Right?

You swiped out of your email inbox and looked at the photo of him standing in front of his jet and moaned. It was actually your mind heading for the gutter as you wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped up in his big arms. What it would be like to tug the zipper of his flight suit down slowly, enjoying the feel of the pull between your thumb and index finger.

It was like the fictional leading man in a romance novel came to life and told you that he thought you were pretty and that he liked your students. You flopped back down on the couch and screeched into the pillow so as not to alarm your neighbors. You needed to respond, but you didn't know what to say since you were probably past the point of playing it cool. You chewed on your lip while you typed and then deleted several versions before sending him something that you thought was okay.

Bradley,

I'd like to take it further, too. I don't usually do this kind of thing (oh, who am I kidding... I never do this kind of thing), but there's just something about you that made me feel like it was worth the risk. I hope I'm not being too bold if I say that I found the photos you sent me quite distracting. However, it's not just your looks that made me share my personal email address with you. I like the way you give me butterflies. There's something sweet that comes through in your writing, and I want to get to know you better. On that note, if you feel so inclined, please tell me three things I should know about you.

Yours Truly,

Your favorite pen pal

Once again, you had written back to him so quickly, it should have been embarrassing, but you had nothing to lose here. You tossed out the bait, and he took it in the most spectacular fashion. You didn't want to miss an opportunity like this, even if he did seem too good to be true.

But he still hadn't written back when you got to work the next morning. The ping of the email alert on your phone made you reach for it immediately, but it was just a reminder to pay your bills on time. As you unlocked your classroom door and flipped the lights on, you considered that maybe your message was a little bit boring. After all, you were the one to bring your personal account into play. Perhaps he was expecting you to reply with some sort of dirty picture. Your cheeks burned with mixed embarrassment. You wanted to take it further, but you didn't know how. You just knew that you wanted to keep him engaged without compromising yourself.

You tucked your bag and your phone away in your desk drawer and pulled out your lesson plans for the day. You'd start things off with language arts and then work your way through math and science before your kids had art class. There was no reason you had to think about Bradley at all right now; he could just wait until later with his big hands and his thick thighs and his mustache and cute smile.

Just before your students were due to arrive, you opened your laptop and logged in to see which parents had emailed you with questions or concerns about their child. You froze when you saw an email that was sent a few minutes ago from Bradley with the subject line A visit to the mechanic's shop. When you opened it up, you found that he had attached a video and a handful of photos.

You were a little bit annoyed that he didn't respond to the message you sent from your other account where you asked him to tell you about himself, but that melted away as soon as you clicked on the video. His face flashed up on your computer screen, and all of the features you'd shamelessly memorized were right there in front of you. Cute smile, tidy mustache, brown eyes, wavy hair. But then you heard his voice.

"Hey. I just thought I'd take all nineteen of my favorite pen pals on a little tour around the mechanic shop aboard the Theodore Roosevelt. Sound good?"

You slammed your computer shut and moaned, thighs pressed tight together as your heart hammered. He was too much. It was just a video. He wasn't even really here, but he was an absolute assault on your senses. He called you gorgeous, but meanwhile it was hard to look directly at him for fear that you'd burst out into a fit of giggles. You shook your tingling hands out and slowly opened your computer again.

"Bradley Bradshaw. How are you this hot?" you whispered at the video paused on your screen. His face was frozen mostly in profile as he looked to the side, and for the first time, you saw some long scars on his cheek and neck. "Oh." They weren't new, rather giving the appearance that they had faded over time. You wondered how pronounced they would feel beneath your fingers. Would he let you touch them? Let you drag your lips across them while your hands found their way to his tousled hair?

After taking a few deep breaths, you let the video play again. Another man joined Bradley on the screen, and he was holding up a long, metal rod.

"This is my friend Marty. He's been a mechanic in the Navy for twenty-six years, and he specializes in aircraft repairs. He knows more about my Super Hornet than I do, and I'm not ashamed to admit that. So I'm just going to stand here and hold my phone still while we watch Marty do his thing."

The rest of the video was fascinating. It was still interesting the second time when you watched it with your class instead of doing your language arts lesson. The kids sat at rapt attention, eating up that little introduction that Bradley gave just as you had. He didn't talk to them like a bunch of little kids who didn't understand anything, which you loved. He and Marty explained what they were doing without making it too juvenile. Then when the video ended, your kids started raising their hands with question after question.

"You know what to do," you told them, holding out a dry erase marker for Jackie to take. She wrote down the list of questions that everyone had for Bradley while you tapped through the photos, once again imagining how warm and rough his hands would feel wrapped around your own instead of an intake manifold.

The impromptu aviation lesson lasted for two hours until your kids left for art class, and now you were a little concerned about all of the additional, more personal questions you had for Bradley besides the ones your class came up with. You wanted to know how old he was and where his scars came from. You wanted to know where he lived now, but you were too afraid of the answer. According to one of the notes he wrote back to Violet, he went to the University of Virginia. He even sounded like he was from the east coast.

You sat at your desk alone, digging your snack out of your drawer along with your phone. There was a new email. You smiled as you realized he must have sent it to you just after he emailed the video he took for your whole class to watch. The opening greeting once again had you kicking your feet beneath your desk, snack forgotten.

Hey, Gorgeous,

I'm still having a hard time believing that you want to get to know me better. Full disclosure, I'm a little nervous you'll get bored talking to me. I don't have much family, and I know it's cliche, but flying really is my passion. I spend a lot of my time on aircraft carriers which makes it hard to maintain relationships and friendships with people on dry land.

Talking to my nineteen new pen pals has been the most exciting part of my deployment. But you're right... you're my favorite one. I could tell from the first letter that wasn't even specifically meant for me that you were funny and sweet. And then I saw what you look like, and I kept going back to the photo for another look. You're just as gorgeous as you are funny and sweet.

Three things you should know about me? One, I'm afraid of spiders. Like so afraid of them that I might have a crisis on my hands if you tell me you have a beloved pet tarantula or something. Two, I loved taking piano lessons so much when I was a kid, I actually still take them. (Now I'm sitting here wondering why I'm telling you embarrassing shit.) My next door neighbor is a retired music teacher, and when I'm home, I trade yard work for piano lessons. Everyone wins. Third, I like giving Gorgeous teachers butterflies. That's a new one, but I thought you should know about it.

I'm giving you some homework, hope you don't mind. I want you to send me a picture of one of those San Diego sunsets where the sky somehow looks both blue and orange at the same time. If you happen to be in the photo, I'm not going to complain. I would also love to hear three things I should know about you.

Please tell your kids they have mail on the way. I hope to hear back from them. And you.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

Oh. This crush was even worse than you thought.

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After days of running drills, Bradley was finally grounded because of a bad storm that was closing in, and he was given a few hours off. He stood out on deck, letting the first drops of hard rain hit his face. He was hoping to get a nice sunset photo to send to you, but the past few days had been terribly cloudy. And now he felt like he was being torn in three directions as his flight suit got wet: he was sweaty, hungry and curious. As a result, he couldn't decide if he should hit the shower, the mess hall or the lounge first.

He reasoned that he'd best appreciate an email from you if he was cleaned up and well fed. If you'd had time to write back to him, it would top off his night in the sweetest way possible. So he took a shower and unfortunately had to eat cabbage rolls for dinner. He chuckled to himself as he walked toward the lounge, picturing a bunch of fourth graders eating dinner in the mess hall and ranking the foods. They would probably love that, actually.

As Bradley logged in and watched his email inbox appear on one of the lounge computers, he muttered, "Hell yes." There was a new message from you, and he couldn't click on it fast enough. Before he started reading, the attached photo caught his attention, and he grunted softly. Fuck.

There you were, on a stretch of beach in Coronado, not even a mile from his house with the sun setting behind you. Your features were in shadow, but your smile was a little shy and very pretty. You looked so soft, standing there on the windswept sand in denim shorts and an oversized sweatshirt with Mira Mesa Elementary printed on the front, and all he wanted to do was touch you. He could already imagine a picnic dinner on that beach, snuggling up with you as cooler temperatures moved in. Enjoying the blues and oranges until the sky got so dark, he'd lead you back to his house with your fingers laced with his.

Bradley,

I'm turning in my homework. I hope I get a passing grade. I'm not usually the student, so I'm a little out of practice. A Naval officer from Top Gun took this photo for me. Apparently aviators just like you are all over the beaches in Coronado.

I have some good news for you. While I'm not actually afraid of spiders, I promise I don't have a beloved pet tarantula. And I'm sorry, but the idea of you still taking piano lessons made me giggle for a solid minute. The mental image is just that adorable.

You always seem to know what to say to make my butterflies go crazy, and that's just through the written word. As an educator, I always stress the importance of honesty to my students. So let me just say that honestly, I'm not going to get bored talking to you. I also can't lie about the fact that I watched the video you sent several times just to hear your voice. (Now I'm the one embarrassing herself.) And I really can't see how you would have a hard time maintaining a relationship while you're away. Maybe your previous partners didn't appreciate how rare it is to find someone who is willing to put in some effort. Or maybe they didn't find your arachnophobia oddly endearing. But I kind of do.

Three things you should know about me: 1. I graduated from college with a 4.0 GPA. 2. Sometimes I fall asleep during movies, especially if I'm snuggled up on my own couch. 3. I have a crush on you.

Hitting send before I can change my mind.

Bradley couldn't help the smile teasing at his lips as he tucked his hands behind his head and read your last few sentences again. He always wanted to continue talking to you, so maybe it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that you wouldn't grow bored with this. Maybe you'd care more about him than going out on dates, unlike Vanessa. He wasn't going to wait before responding to your email. What was the point? You were into him, and he was definitely into you.

-----------------------------

"We got mail!" you announced, holding up the package that was waiting for you in the school office when you refilled your travel coffee mug on your way to your classroom. Your students erupted into delighted conversation.

"Is it from Lieutenant Bradshaw?" asked Jayden.

"Of course it is," Violet told him. "It must be. He's our pen pal after all."

"Did he send us more notes?" Oliver asked, practically bouncing out of his seat in anticipation.

"He did!" you confirmed as you tore into the package and enlisted Harrison to help you hand the individual notes to their recipients. The room went silent as soon as they all started reading, and then one after the next, the kids started to get out their notebooks to start their responses.

You felt warm all over. Bradley was on your mind a lot, and you didn't really want him going anywhere. You watched the video he sent again last night before you went to sleep, and you dreamed about a strong man with a sexy voice curled up behind you in bed. You knew you had a new email from him, but you were waiting until you could sit quietly during your lunch break to read it.

At some point, you were going to have to taper off the aviation curriculum and focus on other things, but you just didn't want to have to do that yet. Not when your class was so engaged. Not when it made you feel connected to a man thousands of miles away who you had feelings for in spite of that fact that you never met him in person. In spite of the fact that you were too afraid to ask him where he lived.

After you eventually walked your kids down to the lunchroom, you were free to read your email from Bradley in peace. But the more you thought about opening it, you started to get nervous. You already admitted you were interested him, so there was really no going back. If he hadn't sent you something similar, you were going to have to crawl under a rock, but you got your phone out as you took a deep breath and started reading.

Hey, Gorgeous,

Now wait right there. I have some concerns. I'm going to address them in order, so please bear with me. First of all, you didn't just pass your homework assignment, you got an A+. I've never seen such a beautiful sunset in my life, and yet it was barely noticeable next to you. But here's my main issue. I can't have another aviator taking sunset photos of you and sweeping you off your feet. How about you just stay off that beach in Coronado for the time being? Give a guy a chance here?

I couldn't agree more about the importance of being honest. Honestly, I'm letting out the breath I've been holding, worried that you were going to send me a photo of you with your pet tarantula. And honestly, smart women really do it for me, so any time you want to bring up that 4.0 GPA, I'm going to need a minute. And honestly, nothing sounds better than watching a movie with you on your couch right now. Can't stop thinking about it, actually.

Please, tell me in an overabundance of detail, what you would do if I promised I would take you out to dinner but then changed my mind and told you that I was tired from work and wanted to spend a quiet evening on my couch with some takeout instead.

You have a crush on me? Gorgeous girl, all I can think about is the couple days of leave I'm going to have once this aircraft carrier finally docks back in San Diego. Where you are. You and my eighteen other pen pals. I think I have a thing for fourth grade teachers. Or maybe it's just you. I can't wait to hear from you again.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

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Okay. Some admissions have been made. Little bits of feelings have been established. She has seen him and heard his voice, and I think we're ready to keep taking things further. Maybe a phone call? Maybe another photo or two? We also can't leave the fourth graders hanging. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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casuallyawkardd · 10 months

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Close Encounters of the Spiderkind

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Single Mother!Reader

Summary: When reader refuses to go on a mission, Miguel decides to pay a home visit to figure out why

Warnings: SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR ATSV! fluff, slight hurt/comfort and angst if you squint hard enough, Miguel is a softie around kids, it’s giving slow burn/platonic vibes, not fluent in Spanish so feel free to correct my wording/punctuation

A/N: This is kind of my way of dipping my toes back into the world of fanfiction writing, if ya’ll end up liking it I was planning on making it a little series of sorts. Not necessarily a multipart story, rather just little moments following the same general characters. I took the liberty of assigning a gender and name to the reader’s daughter since that sounded like it’d be easier in terms of writing, the rest is still like any Y/N story. Reader is also a spider person, but I’m not married to the idea for future oneshots? Drabbles? I don’t know what you kids call them nowadays...

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

It had only been a couple months since you had joined Spider-Society and, while you were still trying to find your footing, things were going a lot better than expected. There was a comradery with being around other people with the same abilities, who had experienced the same losses, victories and all that came with wearing the mask. You had found some good friends among the other Spiders, particularly with Peter B and Jess, as there was a common ground there that you had yet to share with them; something that the three of you had in common.

That commonality was currently asleep in the other room, your daughter Vada. For once, it had been a day where the radios were quiet. No calls from HQ to go on missions, no worrying chatter on the police radios, so you had taken the day to spend time with your daughter. The three year old was going through a phase where she was having nightmares almost every night, so the day was spent at home relaxing. From watching movies, to cooking meals together, Vada had been your little shadow all day and you had enjoyed every second of it. While your toddler had tuckered herself out, you were restless, curled up on the couch watching TV at a low enough volume that only you could hear, thanks to your heightened senses. It may have been almost midnight, but that was still considered an early night for you. Used to the regime of patrolling until early in the morning and crawling into bed to get a few hours asleep before Vada came in to ask for her breakfast. Just as you were starting to feel the pull of sleep on your eyelids, letting the quiet calm sink into your bones, the moment was then yanked from you. When the beeping started the first time, you had acted on instinct to silence the noise. Your hand practically slapped the Gizmo on your wrist, the same Gizmo given to you by Miguel when you had joined his Spider-Society. Ugh, Miguel. It was a damn shame that such a pretty face was wasted on a sourpuss like him. While being the leader of an elite group of Spider-People sounded like no easy task, there were times the man definitely took it too seriously. Sure, he had a great work ethic and was a respectable leader, but that all came with the downside that you couldn’t stand being around him for more than five minutes. You two hadn’t gotten off on the right foot and it seemed like he wouldn’t let you live that down. Ever the stern, cold-hearted leader, barking orders and chewing your ass out if something went wrong. He hardly ever smiled and when he did it was condescending, almost smug as he questioned just how intelligent you actually were. A waste of a pretty face indeed.

That pretty face came to mind when you looked down at your Gizmo, which was beeping once more, finally processing that it was Miguel who was trying to contact you. Shit.

“Hello?” your voice is quiet, wary as you answer him finally; trying to keep quiet for the toddler sleeping in the other room. Also because of the worry that you’ve pissed him off once again.

“Why aren’t you answering?” his voice cuts through the silence, monotone and firm. “An anomaly was detected on Earth-616, go take care of it. Ben Reilly and Peter Parker from Earth-13122 are already en route.”

“I....can’t,” you cringe as the word leaves your mouth. The pregnant pause that follows feels like an eternity.

“What do you mean you ‘can’t’?” He spits the word back at you, like you offended him with just the one syllable. More silence follows, Miguel waiting for your answer and you not knowing what to say. “...Is something wrong?”

“I have to go,” you end the call, not even registering the concern that had slid its way into his tone. With a heavy sigh, you lay your head against the back of the couch, regretting how you handled the situation, but thankful it was dealt with. That is until the familiar sound of a portal opening and closing disturbs your precious quiet once more.

It makes you almost jump out of your skin, physically lurching off the couch, the warm hues from the light of the portal filling your living room and disappearing as quickly as they came. In their place is Miguel, clad in his spidersuit from head to toe. A wave of emotions goes through you, the look of shock, confusion and anger crossing your face in less than a second. He doesn’t seem to have noticed you yet, glancing around the space and disengaging his mask when he doesn’t register any immediate threats.

“What are you doing here!?” it takes all you have not to shout the words at him, instead resorting to a sort of hiss to keep your voice down. Miguel doesn’t seem to take the hint.

“This is why you couldn’t come? Because you’re too busy lounging around and watching trash TV?” he isn’t shouting per se, rather his tone makes him sound louder. That and the quiet of your apartment probably amplified his voice even more. “I know the weight of keeping the multiverse intact might go over your head, but the least you could do is be there for your teammates. I don’t allow slackers in my-” “Shh!” you’re moving towards him without even realizing, motherly instinct telling you to silence the noise that dared try to wake your daughter. Your hand reaches to cover his loud mouth and Miguel takes a step back to avoid your touch, the frustration reflecting in his eyes turning into red, hot anger.

“Did you just ‘shh’ me!?” he sounds as if he’s in disbelief, his voice now actually rising in volume. You stumble over your words, trying to apologize and explain yourself all at once. Now it’s his turn to step towards you, his imposing frame towering over you and you can’t help but shrink back, “I don’t know who you think you are, but if you don’t get your ass in your suit, I’ll-”

“Mama?” Vada’s little voice cuts through the air, both Miguel and you freezing. When you turn to look at your daughter, who’s standing in the doorway to her bedroom, it feels like everything around you fades away. The static of the TV, Miguel, everything until all you can focus on is Vada. She’s clearly distressed, as you come to kneel in front of her you can see the tears in her big round eyes, the redness around them and on her nose, the slight tremble in her bottom lip. You know what’s wrong before she even has to explain.

“Sweet girl, another one?” you ask calmly, a hand going to stroke her hair. Vada nods, confirming your suspicion that she had been roused by yet another nightmare. The creak of the floorboards alerts you of Miguel taking a step closer and you’re suddenly very much aware of his presence once again. However, your eyes don’t leave Vada’s crying face. “Let’s get you back into bed,” you try to coax her into heading back the way she came, your toddler only resisting and shaking her head firmly.

“I want Mama’s bed,” she demands, sounding groggy as the sleep she had just risen from had yet to fully leave her. Vada doesn’t even let you respond before her tiny arms wrap around your neck, face pressing into the junction of your neck and shoulder, “Want you,” she mutters against you, the exhaustion and distress in her voice making your heart ache for her. “Vada,” you sigh heavily, exhausted as well. Exhausted from the heavy workload of being Spider-Woman not just for your universe, but other universes as well. Exhausted from the fact your child couldn’t get a wink of sleep and seeing her frustrated made you frustrated as well. You cave, scooping your daughter up in your arms and standing. Her body molds to yours, relaxing against your frame like it had done so many times before. As you rub her back and kiss her temple, you’re forced to turn and deal with the elephant in the room. Or rather the spider.

You expect Miguel to look annoyed, as usual, but he isn’t. In fact, the anger he was prepared to unleash on you moments ago seems to have vanished, replaced with a look of curiosity, intrigue and dare you say....awe? He’s looking at Vada, who’s about to pass out in your arms, with a softened expression, the sight of the small girl seeming to tug the corners of his mouth up just slightly.

Huh.

Miguel seems to catch himself staring, shaking his head to clear the fog and meeting your gaze once more. “I...didn’t know,” is all he can say, not as confident in the way he stands.

“No one knows,” you reply in a much harsher tone than you intended. After a deep breath, you adjust how you speak, “I’ve only been on the team for a couple months. It’s not that I don’t trust the other spiders...I just want to be careful, yah know?” Miguel nods along with what you say and you can’t help but keep talking to fill the now awkward silence, “Usually I have someone to watch her, but it’s been so long since I’ve had a day to just give her all my attention- I promise, it won’t happen again. I know that I should answer if you call-”

“Cállate,” Miguel cuts you off and you’re almost grateful he’s saved you from rambling. There’s another moment of silence before he sighs, “You don’t have to explain yourself, really. If I had known,” he waves a hand to indicate to your daughter, “this was the reason you were ignoring my calls, I wouldn’t have been so hard on you. Your daughter comes first, I get it.”

His words hit harder than they should. Every Spider-Person had heard the story. How Miguel was willing to put his own duties aside to live in a universe where he had a daughter of his own. Replacing the him of that universe, who had died tragically, to live the life he had always wanted; only to have that universe crumble around him. Literally. It explained his cold demeanor, you’d probably be a bitch too if your daughter died in your arms, but that coldness you had become accustomed to seemed to melt away the longer he took in the sight of you holding your daughter.

“You said her name’s Vada?” he asks, stepping a little closer. Normally, you would probably keep your distance from him, maternal instincts in overdrive with an imposing figure like Miguel so close to Vada, but you stay in place. Not bothered by his presence for once. He’s looking at you, expecting an answer, and you nod your head. He hums, “How old?”

“Three,” you answer and he hums again. “...Is everything okay? Regarding the mission?”

“Huh? Oh,” he clears his throat, adjusting his stance and taking a small step back. When had he gotten so close to you? “I think those two should be fine on their own. Earth-13122′s Spider-Man knows what he’s doing and-”

“You know, you can just call him Lego Spider-Man. Everyone calls him Lego Spider-Man.”

“That’s not his correct title.”

“Uh-huh,” you smile, holding back a laugh at how serious Miguel seemed to be about the subject. “...Well, I think it’s time we go to bed.”

“Right, right,” Miguel moves like he’s about to walk out the front door, seeming to forget that he had come via portal and catching himself as his hand grasps the handle. Has he always been this socially awkward? He turns to look at you again, “Should I just...?”

“Yes, please open your noisy portal outside.”

“Claro que sí,” he nods in understanding, opening the door. Just as he’s about to leave, he pauses again, turning to look back at you, “Even if you’re busy, you should still answer when I call. I was worried about you.”

“Worried about me?” you repeat, a bit of teasing in your voice.

“Worried as in the normal amount of worried.”

“Sure, sure, O’Hara.”

“I’m leaving now,” he huffs, turning to leave again. Yet he can’t help but stop one more time, “Goodnight.”

He finally leaves, door shutting with a soft click. You go to the door to lock it, carrying Vada into your room for bed. It seems that she had managed to fall back asleep despite your little interaction with Miguel. As you lay down and pull the comforter over the two of you, Vada snuggling impossibly close to you once more, you lie there thinking about what had just transpired.

Maybe his pretty face wasn’t a waste.

Tags:

@l0sert0wn @deputy-videogamer @arctic4life @sasaleleselfships @autismsupermusicalassassin @snert-bees @qundadedingle11 @uniquelyabnormallyoriginal @fangirlreice7 @mouse-teagreat @andr3wgarfieldsupremacist @yellieeeee @thesrtuggleisveryreal @escherichiacolli @sweeteaacorner @marvelouslovely-barnes @meeom @candlewitch-cryptic @iwanttogohomeandtakeanap @melovetitties @ilovemycat6808 @vegas-writing-den @pippethealien @shibble @mommyhange1 @chiikasevennn @pokhouu @jenniferdixon05207 @m0sscr3ates @momos-peaches @insanelycrazyanddelusional @miggyoharaswife @justtnat @imliquidesmooth @thedevillovesflowers @mvc2019 @starrynightnight @risinglightmoon @charming4u @whitetearx @blueparadisecollection16s @idontknowwhatimgoinghere @ziyahshinez

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara headcannons #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #close encounters of the spiderkind #miguel o'hara x single mother!reader

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twstedstoryshop · 2 months

Text

FINALLY, I return properly. Kind of. Reason I've been away for so long was because of insane convention season and also had this bad boy in the works. This is one of two commissions done for a friend. Hope you all can enjoy yourselves for the crumbs I produce. -SK

CONTENT WARNING: Blood, violence, depressed s/o, and mentions of toxic past relationships.

Your New Boyfriends Runs Into Your Ex

While Rook Hunt was one of many to find camaraderie in a den of villains, that didn’t mean chivalry was dead to him. Certainly not him.

Under his keen gaze, he knew that when a certain topic was broached, you would shy away instantly. Paled knuckles, a panicked gaze, and your bottom lip near to splitting open by how badly you chewed down.

It was like he was seeing a rabbit or deer caught in a trap, frantic with no escape. Though his heart had been trained to a perfect steel and not feel for his quarry, when he sees that look in your eyes, all defenses fall away.

The topic? Well, the worries of what the future held for you. Moreso in far off days. Would you continue to have your friends by your side? Would someone ever cherish you? Have a deeper connection?

For Rook, it was a no-brainer because of course! Who else was more worthy of adoration and praise than his dear petite grâce? As he would declare this in all his usual grandeur, a small smile would form on your lips, but that happiness never reached your eyes.

Doubt clouded that sweet gaze of yours. In its own way, seeing such clear eyes be veiled by sadness was heartachingly beautiful. Yet it was a beautiful scene Rook couldn’t bear to behold for too long.

When it came to keeping track of you, Rook was extra considerate. If one can call it that… In his mind, he kept careful track of those you interacted with. He watched your mannerisms, your dialogue, anything amiss he would file it away. But for the longest time, it didn’t seem like an outside force was troubling you.

For a moment, Rook considered that whatever wounded your heart was a scar from a distant past he had yet to uncover. What he didn’t expect was said wound abruptly appearing on a normal day.

From a vantage point, perhaps from a second story window or among the trees that dotted the campus, Rook had caught sight of you stone-still on your walk. Before you, an NRC student he couldn’t recall. He didn’t really have time to register the man when Rook had just attention all on you.

Your wide, hollow eyes. Your chest rising and falling rapidly. How you froze so perfectly under the gaze of this man. It was a scene Rook was all too familiar with. Prey terrified beyond its own mind to run, to hide, or even fight.

Your rational mind couldn’t comprehend what your ex was even saying to you as panic held you in its overbearing clutch. The world grew dizzying and just when you felt like your heart would give out, right then and there, a broad arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“Ah, there you are, ma petite grâce. I was looking all over for you. You made me a bit worried, you know!”

It was hard to look up at him as Rook’s hat was tipped just enough for the shadows to mask his features. But your ex needed only one glance for the role of prey to be forced on him. Green eyes with a gaze so sharp, so precise like a notched arrow perfectly aligned to fire, bored right into him.

It didn’t take much time before the ex backpedaled away with his tail between his legs, now only leaving you with Rook.

Rook would face you, gripping your forearms firmly. His expression, soft though. He called out for you, trying his best to snap you from your daze. When you finally realized it was him now before you, your body moved on its own before you could think. A heaviness made you fall against his chest. You shivered, maybe tears and sobs escaping you.

Rook held you so close against him. Like he was cradling a sculpture of the most delicate porcelain. As if one scratch or knock would crumble you into fine dust.

A single hand held the back of your head protectively, letting you weep as much as you wanted against his shirt. His chin nestled along your hair. You would be so blissfully unaware of Rook’s gaze. A complicated stare into space as his mind swam with many thoughts.

Rook always found beauty in the oddest of places. Yet for the first time, there was something Rook found utterly detestable. A vile image that was a blot in his picturesque vision and that was your ex, the source of your pain. But from that ugliness, he did find a most exquisite sensation. A drive to hunt. An unyielding need to protect you.

While he couldn’t spring into action earlier, his quarry was marked. A hunter is patient and he can wait as long as he needs to for one slip-up, one more attempt to dare get near you, and Rook would be sure to let loose a vicious arrow.

There is a tension between you and Floyd on certain days. While most times, it would be all fun and games, just him and his little Shrimpy. But Floyd wasn’t blind to the weight you carried.

It would irritate him on a dime when you obviously had thoughts clouding your mind. So much so that you fidget anxiously or not even pay attention to him. His sharp voice would call over the din of thoughts and you’d see the eel practically inches away from your face.

His dual colored eyes glared at you and a slight frown pulled at his lips. “Geez, what the hell is goin’ on with you!?” He doesn’t mean to be so crass, but to see his Shrimpy unsettled, it frustrated him.

Moreso that he can’t exactly pinpoint what was going on with you, that he can’t just squeeze it to a pulp and boom, no more problems!

He knew you had your walls and such walls took time to lower to let him in. Floyd had the patience as a waiting moray eel, but if he had the proactiveness to actually act upon his patience? That’s a whole other story. When it came to you, he just wanted to see you happy and unbothered. All reasoning would flutter out the window.

It may or may not have taken a lot of squeezing and thinly veiled threats to your friends for them to fess up information you couldn’t bear to unload on Floyd. A common name would be passed around, an ex from your past. Just the thought that someone else had their hands on you nearly made Floyd break bones if not for the pitiful yelps of your friends to release them in time.

Questions whirled in that skull of his. Why have you never brought this up to him? What did this ex do to you that made you shy away from him? Where was this scumbag now? All of these worries would bleed into his daily life and if it weren’t for Jade and Azul to straighten him out, he would have been throwing tantrums left and right.

It wasn’t until one day that all his frustrations would come to a boiling point into a final, satisfying crescendo. At least for him.

Work was to be done at Mostro Lounge. Floyd was on duty to be a waiter along with yourself. Both of you have opted to be in an awkward silence in your relationship and it was evident by how you both avoided one another, unsure of how to really talk about your issues.

Floyd had taken an order from a particular student, one he could easily sniff out as a rude bastard by his mannerisms and his tones. But if Floyd’s temper got the better of him, he’d never hear the end of it from Azul. He would hand off the order to you to at least serve drinks.

Everything seemed normal until suddenly a glass shattered. All eyes shifted to you who shivered in place. The tray rattled in your hands and below you a cascade of broken glass.

“Y-you…” “The fuck…? What the hell are you doing here!? And look at what you did to my drink! You’re still incompetent as ever, tch!”

You wanted to cry, scream, run away. You felt so ashamed, being treated like garbage again from an ex you swore you’d never let walk all over you again. But at the height of stress, you couldn’t bring yourself to stand up for yourself. Pathetic, absolutely pathetic…

That is until a sing-song, nonchalant voice slid right up behind you. “Ahhhh, what a shame. I apologize on the behalf of our lil waiter here. They’re just nervous is all. Here~ Why don’t I make it up to ya? I can serve ya a drink right here, right now. On the house~” “Finally, some decent fucking service…”

You looked up at Floyd and saw that dangerous glint in his eyes. How his pupils honed on the poor fool as his smile widened so tightly across his face. He reached for a spare glass that was left on the table, presented it with a flourish to your ex, and coyly said, “Readyyyy~? Watch carefully.”

Then, his hand flew so quick to grab a clump of your ex’s hair and slammed it squarely on the glass. The crunch of glass, your scream, and the screech of chairs being pushed back as patrons jumped.

“GYAHAHA, YOU LIKE IT!? IT’S MOSTRO LOUNGE’S OWN PERSONAL RED. Ahhhh, but the red comin’ from you? Pfft, it ain’t worth the shit under my shoe…” Your ex could barely register what was even being said to him from the glass embedded in his face and blood gushing from his nose and broken lips.

Hands covered your mouth in terror as you could barely register what was happening. From panicked students screaming to Azul and Jade holding Floyd back from beating the poor ex to a pulp. All you could really register was the horrifying satisfaction deep in your chest, seeing the one who hurt you so much battered under the hand of someone who protected you…

Leona has his own ways of caring but most of the time, if you cannot read between the lines, it may come off as uncaring.

He does care, but don’t expect a coddling man rushing to be your knight when you are feeling sorry for yourself. The last thing he wants to do is pity you as he knows all too well the humiliation of being pitied.

Instead he observes, he watches, he’s keen to everything you do that isn’t a part of your daily life. In sly ways, he tries to break your moments of dissociating. He calls your name sharply to snap you out of your funk and gives you a menial task.

Telling you to maybe preen his mane, join Ruggie on an errand, what have you. It’s better to keep yourself occupied than whatever is plaguing your mindscape.

Sometimes, he will even abruptly lean against you, his weight toppling the both of you over. Even if you protest under him, he will insist he’s really tired and just wants something warm beside him to help him sleep. In truth, it’s just another way to stop your self-deprecating thoughts.

Though he will speak up in annoyance if your depressed thoughts start to bleed into your relationship. It will sting, but he means well. He tells you gruffly that he’s not in the mood to lay next to baggage. He wants only his partner, dammit.

You may argue, you may not, it depends on how you react but at the end of it, one way or another, you’re going to have to face him and this problem that hangs over you.

If you take time before approaching him or spill everything in one go, he will wait patiently and listen. But cowardice by running away he won’t accept and would want answers promptly.

One way or another, the truth has to come from you and you explain the thoughts that coil around you like a petulant serpent. A name and face that digs into your chest horribly. Your ex and the ways he has hurt you in many ways.

Leona listens stoically, letting you share your story before acknowledging and commending the strength it took for you to finally admit this. He knows all too well the pains of the past, he shares in your frustrations. But the past stays in the past for a reason.

Now it’s you and him now. You define yourselves here in the present. If anyone says otherwise? Well, he’d like to see them try.

Who would have known that such a time would come so soon when one day, someone had the gall to start harassing you right in the Savanaclaw dorm.

That same face that always lingered around you like a ghost was here right now in the flesh, taunting you at the edges of the Spelldrive field. Your ex sneered at you, wondering what the hell you were doing around here during his practice hours. Had the nerve to accuse you of stalking him despite your split.

Your anger boiled your blood, your face flushed. Your nerves alighted with a burning fury that made the dorm’s dry heat pale in comparison. But your body did not respond to you. Your throat froze despite wanting to curse and yell out at your ex.

What neither you expected though while your mouth gasped for something, anything to throw at this scumbag, was a lion’s roar peeling across the field. A shadow loomed over your ex and both of you looked up to a silhouette blocking the sun and a pair of piercing green eyes.

Astride his broom, Leona stared squarely at the ex. “For a minute, I thought I heard annoying squawks from a mangy vulture, but now I just see a whelp. Having the nerve to approach my partner…”

Without missing a beat, Leona lowered himself to the ground and sauntered right over to your ex. Your ex tried to stand his ground but anyone could tell he was practically shaking in his spot.

“So.... What were you two talking about?” It was such a simple question. So trivial. But the way Leona spoke each word, it was like a pair of hungry jaws were ready to snap behind every syllable. He dared for your ex to slip up.

“N-nothing… Nothing at all… I was l-leaving…” “Hooo?” Leona’s tail whipped behind him in amusement. “So you just waltzed up to my partner and gawked at them? Nothing left your useless, flapping gums? I can hardly believe that.”

Leona’s knuckles cracked as he flexed his hand and for a quick second, you swore you saw wind and dust particles gather between his finger tips. The air felt still and you heard your ex gulp audibly from a dry throat. Then, a sudden calmness.

“But if you were just about to leave, then by all means, scurry along. I hate people wasting my time.”

To which your ex immediately did, turning on his heel, so close to make a run for it. Then, like a giant paw slamming atop a helpless mouse, Leona’s hand roughly grabbed his shoulder and stopped him.

“A warning since I’m feeling so generous today… Don’t ever let me catch you near them again. Ya hear me? Or else, I’ll make you a nice addition to the scenery. We could always add more sand and bones.” Leona cracked a toothy smirk with darkness in his eyes. His fangs glinted in the sun and it was then you truly realized the fierce lion you had taken in as your boyfriend.

#scrawlingquill #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #rook hunt x reader #floyd leech x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #twisted wonderland y/n #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst headcanons #twsited wonderland scenarios #twst scenarios #twst reader insert #twisted wonderland reader insert #long post #long reads

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lost-and-ephemeral · 2 months

Text

Series: In Her Shadow, pt.2 (ft. main trio)

Part 1 | Part 2

Slowly but surely she replaced you in his heart.

Pairing: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader (seperate)

Tags: angst, hurt no comfort, reader is not MC, breakup

A/N: I recieved a lot of comments and request asking me to continue, so here we are! I've tried my best. Ty everyone, I appreciate every message, even if it would be hard to mention every single one of them in this post. Also, if you want to be tagged in future fics, let me know!

-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´-

Rafayel

You began to notice that Rafayel was spending less and less time with you, choosing his bodyguard over you.

It wasn't obvious at first, yeah, but as time went on, everything became so noticeable that you couldn't ignore it anymore. Especially when he forgot about your plans with him and didn't even consider apologizing for it.

The smell of someone else's perfume in his studio, the way Rafayel would leave you at home and take her to all the important events because "you probably don't like spending time among journalists and annoying guests." It seems that he didn't even notice the moment when you were completely estranged from each other.

And all your attempts to talk to him about it ended with nothing.

"She's my bodyguard," he'd say. "No wonder I take her everywhere I go. Is there anything wrong with that?"

Yes, a lot of things were wrong.

But he was completely unwilling to notice it, and you were tired of collecting the shards of your broken heart from the floor day after day. Those warm feelings that brought a sense of lightness and happiness in your heart suddenly turned into pure torture.

You had to end it all, even if it'll hurt so much.

When you arrived at his studio this morning, you came face to face with "Ms. Bodyguard" herself. She was just about to leave, and didn't even hesitate to embrace your beloved. Right in front of you.

Maybe you would've exploded from all these negative emotions, if you had any strength left to be mad or to cry. But there was only emptiness in your heart.

You became strangers to each other.

"I'm breaking up with you," you said without any regret and pushed him away as he tried to hug you. "I don't want to be a second choice after your precious bodyguard."

"W-wait, why? What... But I didn't do anything!" he replied confused, apparently not realizing how much he's been hurting you all this time.

"Maybe that's the point. That you'd do anything for her, but not for me."

He looked at you with the same confusion in his eyes, trying to figure out if it was a joke, but you continued before leaving this place forever.

"You were everything to me, Rafayel. But for you, I was just a small episode of your life. I'm tired. You've been spending all your free time with her, like I didn't exist. It'll be better this way. Goodbye."

No matter how long he was calling your name, asking you to stop, to come back and talk with him, you didn't.

Zayne

Loving a cardiac surgeon with his busy schedule is hard.

But it's even harder when he no longer cares about your existence and spends a significant amount of time with his childhood friend.

After Zayne forgot about your reservation at the restaurant, making you feel like you were the last fool in this world, some more time has passed.

Yeah, he apologized. No, he didn't start spending less time with his "friend".

It's hard to count how many evenings you spent alone when he stayed late at work for her or was invited to a "friendly" dinner with her. But it happened often enough so finally your love turned into suffering.

At first you tried to convince yourself that you're too jealous and he's just happy to finally reunite with someone close to him from his youth. You care about your friends too, don't you?

But it only got worse.

All your plans were constantly adjusted to his friend's wishes. She wants to take him to a cafe at the same time you were planning to go to the cinema? "Sorry, love, let's reschedule our date for another day". You've made him his favorite dinner? Too bad, his friend already brought him dinner at work and he's not hungry.

Eventually you started feeling like he stopped enjoying your time together and just continued to exist in the same apartment with you out of habit.

Talking didn't get you anywhere, because Zayne didn't notice how much he was hurting you (or he simply didn't want to notice it) with his actions and only distanced himself from you even more.

At some point you felt like he put an ice wall around himself again.

He stayed late again this evening, completely forgetting his promise to spend time with you. You packed your things with tears in your eyes, ready to say goodbye to life with Zayne once and for all.

And he showed up at the doorstep of his apartment just as you were ready to leave.

"What's going on?" his voice didn't betray a shred of emotion. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to leave you and your lovely friend together so I don't have to be an unwanted addition to your life."

Zayne was taken aback at this statement and was about to say something, but you interrupted him.

"You were the one who brought happiness and comfort into my life. You were the one who made me feel loved and wanted. But now I realize that I wasn't good enough for you. Goodbye."

You walked away and closed the door behind you, leaving him all alone.

Xavier

Before, you without a doubt would've said that your relationship with Xavier was the ultimate dream.

But now it wasn't actually true.

Yes, your beloved still showed care and attention every spare minute he had. Just not to you. It seemed as if his colleague started to occupy his every thought.

During dinner, on a walk, after missions. He was always talking about her, how strong she is, and how lucky he is that she chose him as her partner. His eyes were shining with delight you had never seen before.

You were happy for him, but only until it crossed the line. Only until you started to feel like he was in love with her, not with you.

One day you found yourself completely miserable. Xavier texted you that he would be late because they had "decided to celebrate another successful mission". Except that you were usually the one he shared his joy with. But things have changed.

Even though you were the brightest star in his world, you were inevitably lost behind the glow of the Moon.

You were trying to be better, to be more interesting. Trying to reach an unattainable ideal. But you couldn't. After all, maybe you were never meant to be together if it turned out like this. Maybe you weren't enough for him.

You couldn't remember the last day you didn't cry. Sometimes alone, sometimes locking yourself in the bathroom after another conversation about this "super-strong collegue". But Xavier didn't seem to notice it at all.

"I thought maybe you'd be interested to know what happens during missions," he said when you brought up this painful topic.

And, yes, you were interested. But all you heard was, "She took down that Wanderer so easily, I couldn't take my eyes off her." Or, "she's so good with her weapon, it's amazing."

He distanced himself from you so much that you hardly spent any time together.

He wasn't even home the day you left.

Xavier sent you a message saying he'd be late again. As usual, with her. Even though he promised to have a movie night and you had already prepared everything you needed for it.

Maybe it's even better if you don't see the look in his eyes the moment you tell him you're breaking up with him. You packed your things and left a note on the table, next to the snacks you bought.

"Maybe in another universe I would be worthy of you so you could look at me with the same adoration. I can see that you enjoy spending time with her much more. And we should break up so you don't torment my heart anymore. Goodbye."

You glanced around his apartment one last time before leaving it forever.

♡ tags: @skyowlz @prettytemis @aishasreality @randompersonwhoexist @kreishin @reni502 @moonyzstarz @chin-chii

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader

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champagnefountains · 2 months

Note

So...Alastor went missing for a while after the extermination right? Would you be open to a story where the reader is taking care of Al after he gets back? Maybe still a little mad at him for vanishing, more worried about him being hurt...just the fall out that comes from not knowing if he was alive or not? Your first Lucifer story was wonderful!! You really have a solid foundation for this and I'm excited to see more from you!!

Aw, thank you so much! I'm really, really glad you enjoyed the Lucifer story! And omg, I love this idea...I live for angst so here's some more~!

ALASTOR - H.H.

A/N: They probably were able to rebuild the entire hotel in less than a day, but just to make it more dramatic, I made Alastor's disappearance two days long. Also, I'm not exactly too happy with the pacing here...so I apologise in advance ;-;

Word count: 2.8k+ words (I need to control myself...also unedited, sorta). Genre/other tags: Angst with good ending. OOC Alastor (I think?...sorry...). Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of blood. Talk about loss/death.

After the cancellation of this year’s extermination and Hell's victory against Heaven’s forces, Charlie and the team had spent the next couple of days repairing the damages caused. The team’s morale was as high as ever as they busied themselves reconstructing and making significant renovations to the hotel, their spirits brightening at the prospect of the potential influx of evil-doers to their establishment. There was no doubt that the hotel’s popularity had boomed, as there wasn’t a single soul in Hell that didn’t know about their contribution towards the annual culling.

However, there was one thing that had been plaguing your mind since the end of the bloodshed: Alastor's whereabouts. Everyone, including yourself, knew that the Radio-Demon was more than capable of looking after himself, considering his high-regarded reputation in all the Nine Circles. However, it’s been two days since the battle and there wasn’t a single trace of him anywhere. And as his significant other, it bothered you to no end. And it wasn’t like you could call him either – Alastor strictly refused to use a mobile phone or any electronic device, no matter how much you pried. He didn’t even make any attempts to reach out to you, whether it be from your own portable radio that he gifted you, or even a small note or letter. Absolutely nothing.

Currently, the hotel has just completed its final transformation with big thanks to Lucifer and Charlie's magical powers and sorcery. With your distress multiplying with every passing second, you couldn't bring yourself to be as excited as the others. You silently excused yourself from the group by the main entrance, wandering off to the furthest side of the building and turning the corner. With a trembling sigh, you leaned against the wall, covering your mouth with your hands as a sob wracks through your body.

You hadn't felt as anxious as you were, in so, so long. It must've been the build up from the months-long preparations made to fend off Heaven to now, that had you overwhelmed. Yes, there was no doubt that Alastor was powerful, but he fought Adam head on – the very first man – which you were able to only catch minor glimpses of in the midst of battle. And that was probably the last time you saw him.

You didn't want to think about the possibility of loss. Because there's no way, right? ...Right? The others were also quick to reassure you plenty of times, sensing your growing unease with each passing day. But it did little to nothing to help ease your nerves. Preoccupied in your own despair, you failed to sense an approaching figure among the shadows.

"'Cher? What are you doing, hiding all the way down here?" A static-like voice called out, causing you to stiffen, "you should be celebrating with the others! You wouldn't want to miss out on such an exciting time!" Eyes widening, you swiftly pivoted yourself to face them. Low and behold, the source of your worries stood before you, all in one piece, smiling down at you with his usual Cheshire-like grin.

"...Alastor?" You weakly called out. Your wavering tone caused the Overlord to raise a brow, mild confusion taking over him. "Yes, my dear?" He asks with a tilt of his head. But it wasn't until he took a closer look at your distressed features that his expression softened a faction. "Darling, you're upset...why are you crying?"

Despite your immense relief, you couldn't help but send him a baffled look. "Wha-Why am I crying? Are you serious, Al?" You spat back incredulously. "You've been gone for two days! Two days! And I didn't know where or-or how you were! Can’t you even imagine how I must've felt when I couldn't find you after the fight?” Alastor only blinked at your sudden outburst. “And you don't even think to tell any of us where you've gone off to! I thought...I-I thought..." Your voice died down as a sob threatened to leave your throat. "I-I thought you were gone."

"Oh, dear, don't be silly," Alastor softly chuckles, fixing his monocle, "it'll take more than those pesky, little angels to get rid of me!" His lanky legs strided towards you, his head shaking in mild amusement. He stops just before you, leaning forward to pat your head reassuringly. Sniffling, you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his waist, burying your head into his chest. It gave you the reassurance you wanted and needed – it was proof that he was here with you, physically. However, the action unexpectedly causes Alastor to stiffen. You furrow your brows, lifting your head to send him a questioning look.

"...Al? Are you okay?" You worriedly ask, slowly unwrapping yourself to inspect him. Usually, Alastor didn't mind whether you initiated physical contact and vice versa, especially considering that you had been together for a while now. You then glanced behind him and your surroundings in caution – there didn't seem to be anyone watching either, knowing that he wasn't as fond of PDA.

As you pan your eyes towards his face, you were surprised to see a tensed expression. "N-Nothing to worry about, darling," he says through a forced smile, waving his hand dismissively before sharply pivoting himself the other direction. "Now, shall we go join the others now? They're probably wondering where we've both gone!" Nonchalant, he begins walking off with his hands crossed behind his back. That was...strange. Something was clearly wrong, you think to yourself.

"Al, wait!" You jog towards him, passing and stopping him in his tracks. "Is...is there something wrong?" You worriedly ask. "I just...I feel like you're not telling me something. I-If I made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to–"

You felt your words die in your throat as a noticeably large, wet patch began to form against his dress shirt. You let out a startled gasp. "Wha–you're‐you're bleeding!" You cry in panic, hands raising and twitching in front of you with uncertainty. His expression darkening, Alastor stubbornly shook his head, gently pushing you aside by the shoulder, "Like I said, it's nothing to worry about. It's not but a small scratch! I'll be fine, dear–"

"No, you're not fine!" You interjected, eyes blurring in tears and wavering. Your hands shook as you gawked at the growing stain on his shirt. At that, you didn't miss the way Alastor's lips twitched in presumed pain, as small beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. Gritting your teeth, you reach out to grab his wrist, preparing to pull him towards the hotel's entrance. "Come on, Al. W-We need to get you cleaned up–" A firm squeeze in your hand stopped you in your tracks as you turned back to face him, distressed.

"[Name]. I said I'll be fine," he sternly says, his voice contorting in static. Despite the sinister grin he displayed, it left you unfazed. You pinched your brows and balled your fists in frustration, staring at him in disbelief. "...What the hell is wrong with you?" You hiss at the deer-demon, "You're clearly not fine–you wouldn't be fucking bleeding right now if you were fine!"

Alastor clicked his tongue, "Darling, you're exaggerating too much, don’t you think? You don't need to fret—"

"Shut up! I-I don't give a damn who you think you are! Strong Overlord or not, I'm worried, okay?! I-I'll always be worried about you!" Angry tears began pouring from your eyes. "I was scared for my life when I didn't hear from you the past few days! I didn't know what happened to you–if you were okay or even alive! I-I couldn't even get a single blink of sleep last night, so don't fucking tell me to not worry!" Alastor's egotistical and prideful personality was not news to you and everyone else – you knew how stubborn he could be, and now was no exception. It was absolutely infuriating.

Alastor's grim expression eased at your growing distress, his stomach twisting uncomfortably as he watched you messily wipe your face. You took a brief moment to compose yourself, your breaths shaky and uneven. "Look, just–I don't want to argue right now, okay?" You hiccup, "i-if you don't want the other's seeing you like this, just...I-I don't know, teleport us inside the hotel somewhere. Just anything, so I can stitch you up properly."

Begrudgingly, Alastor manifested his microphone from thin air. He didn't have any room to argue with you here. He then softly taps the ground with the bottom of the stand twice, casting a group of black shadows from the ground. They surrounded you both in a circular-like motion, completely filling your sights with a black void. There was a brief gust of wind and it didn't take long until they dissipated, the both of you now standing in what was assumed to be your new shared room in the hotel – it was nearly identical to your previous one before the reconstruction, save for the new wallpaper.

"Remove your shirt. I'll get the kit," you immediately order as you point at the bed, gesturing for him to sit. You then disappear into the bathroom for a brief moment, grabbing the small first-aid kit under the sink before returning to the bedroom. Alastor had already sat himself down the edge of the bed, his dirty button-up and coat neatly folded on the floor, and his chest bare. You grimaced as you eyed the massive, fresh gash across his scarred chest, that was somewhat tended to with poor stitching.

You let out a disapproving sigh. "I expected your patching to be a little better than this,” you comment as you set the kit beside him, taking out some gauze and alcohol. Alastor rolls his eyes. "It's not everyday you get struck by an angelic weapon, dear," he shoots back sarcastically. There was a small stagger in your movement, your jaw clenching as a deep frown settled on your lips. So it was because of Adam that he's in this state, you sourly think. You try to not let the thought affect you too much as you begin disinfecting his wound.

While you were fixing him up, the both of you remained in complete silence. You actively chose to ignore his piercing gaze in the meantime, which practically burned through your skull as you maintained your focus solely on his wound. Your earlier frustrations didn't seem to simmer down either, deciding to keep quiet to prevent another one-sided shouting battle. As much as you loved Alastor, his lack of understanding towards your concerns vexed you to no end. Because, hypothetically speaking, what if he had actually died during his fight against Adam? If his body went missing, you were never going to find the closure you needed and were probably gonna go on with your life not knowing of his whereabouts. Your life would've been completely miserable with the constant grieving. And like Alastor smartly said, it wasn’t everyday that he’d be fighting a divine opponent, so definitive defeat wouldn’t be completely off of the table despite being quite powerful himself.

The mere thought brought fresh tears to your eyes, which you were quick to blink away. ‘No…there’s no point dwelling in the past and what-if’s,’ you reprimand yourself. Alastor’s here, after all. That's the only thing that matters right now. But regardless, you still remained upset.

After a while and now satisfied with your craft, you neatly applied a bandage around his chest and waist. "...Don't put too much pressure on it for a while," you quietly advised as you began packing the equipment away. You continued to ignore his gaze, knowing that you'd lose your composure if you were to look at him. Without sparing him a glance, you lazily chucked the kit by the bedside table and made your way towards the door. Shortly after, you left the room without another word.

You found yourself aimlessly walking on the balcony facing the bar, near the main entrance. There, you saw Charlie walking up the stairs adjacent from you, who was quick to catch your approaching form. "[Name], there you are! I was just looking for you!" She cheerily says, skipping towards you with excited steps. "Everything looks so, so amazing, can you believe it?! Oh, oh! We all saw Alastor, by the way! I told you he was going to be fine–erm, [Name]?" The Princess forced her banter to a halt upon spotting your swollen, red eyes.

"Hey, hey, what happened?" She softly asks, coming forth to rub your back. You open your mouth to speak but consciously stop to think your answer through. You knew not to speak a word of Alastor’s state at the moment, knowing it would desecrate his persona. So you decide to keep it short and vague.

"Alastor and I...we, uhm…had a small fight," you briefly explain with a tight-lipped smile. Charlie’s eyes softened in understanding. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did...do you wanna talk about it?” She kindly offers, holding your hand. You shake your head, “It’s alright, Princess. I’ll be okay in due time.” You didn’t want to dampen the overall mood and atmosphere, after all the hard work and sweat shed for this very moment. “Well, I mean, if you’re sure…” she hesitantly replies, giving you another quick look-over. “Say, how about we get you cleaned up a little and we head down and join the others? It’ll help clear your mind a little bit, yeah?”

Bless her heart, you think with a small smile. With a nod, Charlie dragged you to the nearby restroom, where you splashed your face with water and did minor touch-ups to look somewhat decent. Shortly after, you joined the others by the main lounge, who all cheered and welcomed you with open arms. All the while, your mind automatically wandered to Alastor, who you knew was dwelling somewhere within the hotel.

After a couple hours of celebration, you all decided to retire for the night, exhausted from the day's work. Charlie had sent you off with a small hug, wishing you luck as you slowly made your way back to your room. You felt your heart thump loudly against your ears as you spotted your room number in the distance, which only intensified as you reached for the knob and opened the door.

With a deep breath, you entered the room and to your surprise, you found Alastor where you had left him. However this time, he was already in his night-wear and was comfortably sitting upright and against the bed frame, legs under the covers and reading some book. He made no effort to acknowledge your presence as he hummed a random, sweet tune, licking a finger to flick a page of the novel he was supposedly engrossed in. You didn't know what would've irked you more – the fact that he wasn't addressing you right now or alternatively, if he were to go on about his day in his usual chirpy-self, and not bring up what had happened. Reciprocating his behaviour, you wordlessly went to the bathroom to do your usual night routine and changed into a comfortable set of pyjamas. When you were done, you beelined towards your side of the bed, stiffly slipping under the covers with your back facing him and pulling the covers close to your face.

The tension was dripping as the room filled with an uncomfortable silence. You unconsciously found yourself pacing your own breaths, as if you were worried that you were breathing a sound wave too loud. You also didn't move a single inch from your spot, remaining stagnant like a statue. It remained that way for a short while, unable to find a single blink of sleep or tiredness, just as you did the past couple days.

“Darling, I know you’re awake…” Alastor says, finally breaking the silence as he shuts his book with a soft thud, placing it by the bedside table. There was a brief pause, as if he was waiting for you to say something, but you didn’t. You listen intently in silent anticipation as you dug yourself further into your pillow.

“I…I wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier. It wasn’t in my intentions to upset you,” he continues, “I didn’t mean to carelessly dismiss your concerns the way I did. I understand that you’re merely worried for me. After all, if had it been you in my place instead, I would’ve acted the same way, if not more. And I’m sorry for troubling you these past few days. It was due to my carelessness that made you disregard your own health and caused you so much distress. With that, I want to express my utmost gratitude to you for looking after me despite it all. I…I hope you can forgive me, darling.”

It was simple and straight to the point. And yet, his words struck a chord with you, causing a new onset of tears to flow and dampen the bed sheets. Alastor wasn’t one to easily admit his faults and apologise the way he did, so his words had so much of an impact on you. Though you had your own few questions to ask him, you suppose that this was enough for the time being as you didn’t want another day to go by, remaining in conflict with each other. You turn yourself to face him, sitting up and tearfully looking up at him. Silent, Alastor looked back down at you in a hopeful manner, his usual grin on his face. “O-Of course, I forgive you,” you quietly replied as you carefully hugged his side, “I-I just…I want you to look after yourself better. I-I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself if I had lost you then.”

Huffing in relief, he softly snickers into your hair, running one of his claws through its strands. “Like I said, you won’t lose me, my dear. I’ll even wreak havoc across all of Hell to get back to you,” he cheesily coos as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. You wetly chuckle at his remark, leaning into him closer. “That’s quite a huge commitment to make, Al. You promise you gonna keep your word for it?” you jokingly reply, playfully poking at his chest. Grin widening, Alastor boops your nose with a single digit, “that’s a guarantee, darling.”

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor

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celtic-crossbow · 28 days

Text

Those Summer Nights, When I Look in Your Eyes

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Commonwealth (No France) Warnings: Sexual Situations; Vague Smut

Summary: Daryl's childhood had lacked so much and at the beginning of the turn, he had never known love beyond Merle's version of it. Now, he had it all and he would never let them wonder how much he cherished them.

A/N: For @louifaith, I hope this is close to what you imagined for our archer. 🩵 - Also, I have Daryl calling reader "pip" because someone suggested him nicknaming her "pipsqueak" in another story and it has just stuck with me. I was as vague as possible about reader’s age but let me be clear - she is above 18. I don’t write for huge age gaps. I don’t judge those that do and I do read them. I just do not write them but I have no control over where your mind takes you. Anyway, the song he hums is attached. ;)

Life was good.

For thirteen years, there had never been a point in time where Daryl had felt like he could say that and genuinely believe it. For an entire year, the Commonwealth had thrived. Not a single threat. The walls held. The governing unit was fair and compassionate. It really was like the old world.

But not for Daryl.

In the old world, he had been a drifter. A useless drifter walking in the shadow of his brother. No job, no friends, no purpose. And he had, at that time, liked it that way.

Not anymore.

Because now he had a job. He had friends. He had a family. He had a purpose. And he had everything he had lacked growing up. He had love, and not just Merle’s variation of it.

Carol had taken over Lance’s position when Ezekiel and Mercer had stepped up to govern. She had pulled Daryl aside and asked him if he wanted to stay in their reformed force, giving him the choice. His decision was to promptly decline. So they put their heads together to come up with something.

Daryl possessed many skills, most of them learned by doing throughout the years. He had one condition that he would not negotiate on, however.

Daryl’s time outside the walls was over.

He agreed to train hunters to take his place and conceded to three weeks on the road with volunteers that he left up to Carol’s choosing. There was more than enough trust between them for him to be comfortable with who she would deem worthy to provide for the community.

Then he was given the job of overseeing construction and structural upkeep, equipment maintenance, and of course, a seat in the governmental advisory council. He was nothing if not adaptable and took to his position quickly, finding that he liked it. He was respected and his suggestions for the good of the community were heard and considered.

If he chose to hunt or ride, it would be for leisure but he’d hardly needed it in the past year. Domestic life had tamed the inner need to hide or escape that had been ingrained throughout the years even before the turn.

Years ago, you had tumbled into his life. A hot mess that he had spent many a day battling the urge to absolutely throttle. You had a stubborn streak a mile wide that made his own nothing more than a small trail. He absolutely couldn’t stand you.

Funny thing, time.

Now you wore his ring and proudly carried his last name. You had wanted the ceremony, even if his proposal was lackluster. He had been seeking you out after the end of the Whisperers.

“Where’s Y/N?” At first no one answered. He barely parted his lips, intent on asking again with a little more well placed ardor when a woman he recognized as a former Hilltop resident spoke up. “I saw your wife! She’s over with the children!” He muttered his thanks and took a single step before you were finding him. “Daryl!” Your body collided with his, knocking the air from his lungs. His heartbeat lowered regardless, feeling you there in his arms, alive and breathing and whole. “I couldn’t see you in the herd. I was about to come find you but Jude, she made me promise to stay.” “M’here. An’ they’re gone” He tightened his arms around you and rested his cheek on the crown of your head. “So I’m your wife now, huh?” He felt the shift of your facial muscles against his chest, knew you were smiling. “What of it?” He grunted. “Ya wanna be?” He felt his heart skip a few beats when you lifted your head to smile at him, beaming and beautiful. “Of course, I do. Might as well be at this point. We sound like an old married couple.” Daryl snorted and then shrugged. “Then I guess we are.” “That simple?” “That simple.” When you grinned, he knew you would never let it be that simple.

You got your wedding, simple and intimate, with only the few remaining people that were closest to the two of you. When Gabriel said the words, you got your ring, too. Oh, the hell and herds Daryl had gone through to get them. Matching bands, camelot black titanium. Crafted to withstand the way the world was.

He was twisting the ring round and round as he walked home, tired from a full day’s work and more than ready for the weekend with his family: you, Jude, RJ, and his little River. His boy was nearly two years old, the spitting image of Daryl with a heaping dose of your attitude.

You were younger than Daryl, still at an age where pregnancy and giving birth was not considered risky beyond the state the world was in and the lack of some resources. It was horrifying yet the best news he’d ever heard in his self-proclaimed useless life.

River Merle came along right in the midst of the unease in the Commonwealth. When they had taken you and River along with Jude and RJ, it had required all the power Carol possessed to stop Daryl from losing his goddamn mind. He was prepared to rip out entrails with his bare hands and use them to strangle each and every trooper that stood between him and his wife and kids. It was not a good time to support Pamela.

It all worked out in the end when, bruised but alive, the people took back the Commonwealth.

And now, here he was. A husband. A father. A boss. A survivor.

Life. Was. Good.

“Ya home, Pip?” The words habitually rolled off his tongue the moment he opened the door and stepped inside. Jude and RJ were watching a movie, the elder looking over with a hey, Uncle Daryl before turning right back to the television. It was the weekend. No reason to bug them about homework.

“Where else would we be?” You called from the kitchen. Daryl unlaced his boots, was in the middle of pulling off the second one when you came out with River on your hip. “Someone’s cranky today.”

“I ain’t cranky.”

“I’m not talking about you but assuming I was says a lot.” You smiled softly, passing off the baby while simultaneously stealing a kiss. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He nearly melted, probably would have if you weren’t situating a small human right against his chest.

“Get a room.” Judith was rolling her eyes when Daryl shot her a harmless look.

River’s little arms went straight around his father’s neck, his little hiccups and sniffles muffled against Dary’s shirt. “S’wrong, lil’ man. Mama houndin’ ya over veggies like she does me an’ RJ?” River pulled back, rubbing his left eye with a chubby fist, looking at Daryl with a scowl that he knew very well adorned his own face more often than not. Even being so content with his life, he couldn’t seem to rid himself of what you called his resting bitch face.

“Daddy.” Was all the boy said before burying his face back into Daryl’s shirt.

“He had a nap?” Daryl was jostling his son as little as possible while ridding himself of his precious vest, tossing it over the back of ‘his’ chair at the dining table. His large hand covered a wide expanse of the small boy’s back when he rubbed soothing little circles, following you into the kitchen. You shook your head and took the lid off the pot on the stove. The scent of meat and herbs wafted toward Daryl and his mouth watered, but first thing was first.

“He wouldn’t go down. I think it’s a daddy day.” You smiled at the sauce but it wasn’t meant for the pasta topping at all. Daddy days were Daryl’s favorite. River wanted absolutely no one but him. The baby would fuss during meals, refuse to nap, and absolutely forget about bath and bedtime unless Daryl was there.

“I got ‘im then. See if I can get ‘im down for a bit.” Daryl was ducking and angling his head to catch River’s attention, finally earning a shy smile when blue met blue and the archer scrunched his nose and stuck out his tongue. Pressing a kiss into the mess of wavy hair, he noticed you standing with your back against the countertop, a certain type of smile on your face.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re just sexy.”

“Pfft, stop.”

“We are so playing chess tonight.”

Daryl arched a brow. “Yeah?”

You nodded, your smile morphing into something else entirely; something sinful. “Oh, yeah.”

Dinner done, older kids in their rooms after teeth brushing and goodnight hugs, Daryl sat in the nursery with a sleepy River resting his head on his father’s shoulder while the chair gently rocked. The baby’s hair was only the least bit damp but he smelled of the lavender lotion that you always seemed to have near the changing table, instructing Daryl to use it after baths and before bed because it was calming.

Bathed and in a fresh diaper and pajamas, mini-Daryl was beginning to drift off while his father simply rubbed his back or kissed his cheek or even held a little hand just to count the fingers over and over. Soon enough there would be potty training and pre-school—Carol had said that was still a thing in the world now and yes, they had one in the Commonwealth—so for now, Daryl just wanted to soak it all up, take it all in.

River would likely be the only baby the two of you would have, so not a single second was being wasted or taken for granted. You kept a daily journal of simple things that some might find trivial but Daryl knew he’d be reading that journal often enough to wear the ink right off the pages. Sometimes, he missed things because of work, but in the end, that’s what happened when you were a parent, he supposed. His old man didn’t care about milestones or daddy days, and his mama wasn’t around for bath time or boo-boo kisses. River would have it all. And as long as they were his to care for, so would Judith and RJ. In fact, since the baby had Daryl, you were currently reading a story to Rick and Michonne’s son before bed.

Man, if Rick could see Daryl now. Would his brother even recognize him? God, would his brother even recognize him? He let his mind drift for a moment to Rick and Merle, just long enough to keep them close and then he was back to River, pressing a kiss to a chubby cheek.

You would always rock and sing to the little one but he didn’t need that from Daryl. There was just something about their bond that didn’t require words and hardly even movement. It had been that way since the moment you had pushed him into the world. He had cried, red-faced and angry and cold while Tomi leaned to put him onto your chest. You had your time with him, cuddling and nursing, his little sounds still expressing his discontentment with the change from your warm womb to a loud, bright world.

They had Daryl take off his shirt, which he didn’t understand until you explained better than any doctor or nurse could. The moment River was pressed against his skin, the connection was apparent to anyone who saw. The baby went silent, wide eyes mirroring the ones Daryl himself had. He had felt guilty for the longest time that River wanted you to feed him and then he wanted his daddy back immediately. He still had his mommy days and you said that was enough.

You were always supportive, never angry or jealous. You’d share the moments with him while he enjoyed them with you.

It was all what he’d never had, so he’d make sure River, Judith, and RJ never went without it.

His eyes were slow to open, squinting at the traitorous window that dared let the morning rays creep across the bed and to his pillow. It took a few sluggish blinks to remember what day it was and that he was free to go back to sleep until River required either you or him. With a deep breath, he stretched his arms above his head and looked at you, still wrapped around him with your head on his chest. Naked. Still so very, very naked.

He was barely in the bedroom door before you were pushing him against it, almost catching his fingers when he attempted to mute the sound of it closing at his back. You had his shirt unbuttoned and your mouth on his before he could even take a breath. “I told you,” you panted against his lips, “we’re playing chess tonight.” Daryl grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you easily, spinning you to press you against the door. “Goddamn right, we are.” The first round was a frenzied bout of moaning and skin slapping skin, hands covering mouths to keep the noise down. Your nails had left gouges on Daryl’s ass and back, clawing at him for more. You weren’t unscathed. A bruise was blooming on the curve of your right breast, a perfect black and purple bite he had inflicted at some point. It ended with you lying across Daryl’s torso while he was flat on his back with the pillow halfway over his face. Panting and sweating while the sheet covered neither of you where it mattered. Why it was anywhere near either of you was anyone’s guess. The second time was slower, every second savored. Your fingertips memorizing his face while his hips rolled into you, back arching to push himself deeper. His lips were on your forehead, your eyelids, your cheeks and mouth. His fingers danced down your ribcage and back up to your breasts, gentle caresses while he pressed his lips over the mark he’d left earlier. You didn’t have to try hard to roll him over. He went willingly, his hands going straight for your hips. You let your fingers roam his chest and stomach. His scars were yours to explore, he’d given that power over to you long ago. The marks no longer held him prisoner after you’d shown him how to be free. You were incredibly attracted to the way his body had softened with age and he worshiped each wrinkle and stretch mark that time and pregnancy had gifted you. You loved each other wholly, without condition.

And you laid where you had collapsed, goosebumps on your skin from the cool morning air. Daryl didn’t want to go back to sleep, so he laid there, watching you and just enjoying the silence with the knowledge that his family was safe. That you had survived together and built something so precious.

When River began to fuss, it was Daryl that slipped out of bed and left you to rest a bit longer. He had no qualms with being the one to get up earlier to take care of the baby.

The weekend went by fast, as it often did. Sunday night, he found himself sitting on the couch after the kids were all asleep. He had helped clean up after dinner and was contently watching you pick up toys and fold laundry. He didn’t step in to help because he had no intention of allowing you to continue for long.

“What?” You finally inquired, obviously catching him staring.

“Nothin’.” He smirked, huffing a laugh that came out as an exhale through his nose. You were still regarding him when he stood and beckoned you with a finger. “C’mere.” Your pretty eyes narrowed but you placed the unfolded towel on the top of the pile in the basket and stepped into his space. Daryl wasn’t romantic, truly believed he didn’t have it in him to be anything near it. Still, when he guided your arms to his shoulders and lowered his hands to your hips, he watched you melt.

“There’s no music, Daryl.”

“Don’t need it.” He shrugged, just swaying back and forth with you, pulling you closer until you rested your head against his chest.

“The formidable Daryl Dixon is dancing with me when there’s no music playing. This’ll make the papers. It’ll be the headline.”

“Stop.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss into your hair. He was smiling when you sighed, somehow pressing yourself closer to him. You didn’t react at first when he started to hum, whether you were in shock or just relishing the moment. Maybe both. You let him continue.

It was an old tune, one from a favorite album released more than a decade before the first walker rose from the dead. The tune was slow and deep, his chest vibrating with every drone. Finally, you pulled back just enough to look up at him, the corners of your mouth perked.

“What is that?”

“How dare ya! S’Ozzy, woman.” He feigned offense but was tenderly tucking your hair behind your ears.

“I’ve never heard it.”

Daryl scowled playfully before scrunching his nose. “Remind me why I married ya?” You wrapped yourself around him and with the fondest smile he had ever let cross his face, he held you tighter.

“Because you love me.”

“Yeah.” He breathed. “Yeah, I do.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x female reader #dad!daryl #daryl fluff #domestic!daryl #Spotify

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rainylana · 21 days

Text

Preachers daughter

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: eddie is becoming obsessed with “plain jane”.

warnings: based around the character/artist of ethel cain. language, reader is described as thin, brown hair/eyes and very plain and boring. eddie describes her as “ditzy” and “weird”. hints of physical abuse/bruising. talk of religion and christianity, church. reader is starved of attention. some angsty shadows around the edges, some fluff here and there. Slight smut, reader tries to give Eddie a blowjob, hints of sexual abuse.

a/n: my first fic in months!! leave me some love and let me know what you think!! also, if this gets enough love and positive feedback i might make another part!

You never spoke unless spoken to, had a plus marks in grades. You never smiled. You had few friends, a couple girls you sat with a lunch, but no one you hung out with outside of school. Eddie had started watching you when senior year came along. He didn’t know why. You hadn’t changed that much. You looked the same, acted the same. You were the same boring, plain Jane. That was what everyone called you. Plain Jane. You tried to not let it hurt your feelings.

Eddie hadn’t interacted with you much. Nodding a hi in class, waving at you on the bus once or twice. Offering an apology if he’d ran into you in the hall. But never really a conversation. He’d spoken a full sentence to you once in the nurses office. His nose had been bleeding from a punch, while you had been in there from a stomach ache. You both had sat in that little room with ice packs and a mint.

He was starting to become obsessed with you, the gang pestered him about it, laughing at him. He always talked about how mysterious you were, wondering why you never spoke. “It’s like she’s amish or something? Did she used to be amish?” He’d asked one day.

He wanted to know more about you, but how? He couldn’t exactly strike up a conversation with you. You barely reciprocated back the words. When the day came when you both finally had an actual interaction, it fueled the fire in his belly, his growing desire to get to know you, to understand why he liked you so much. Right now, he still didn’t know.

On the way back from Hellfire, it was starting to cloud up very darkly. A storm was brewing, and from the looks of it, a bad one. Eddie’s radio was cranked to the max, a new single out by a band he had yet to know the name. He wondered if other people would discover his songs like that one day, by a band they had no idea who’s name belonged to it.

That’s when he saw you, on the side of the road. He knew it was you from the long, brown dress that fell down to your calves, black flats and hair laid straight down your back. Plain Jane. “The hell?” He muttered under his breath, pulling up slowly and rolling down his window.

You stopped abruptly, startled by the oncoming vehicle, looking up to the window, the driver, with wild brown eyes.

“Need a ride, y/n?” His hand laid on the crank of the window. “Looks like we got a hell of a storm coming.”

You looked up to the sky, the wind blowing hair into your mouth. “I’m not supposed to ride with strangers.”

“We’re not strangers.” He chuckled. “You’ve known me since second grade.”

You gave him a look, a long one, holding your gold cross necklace before you eventually nodded, opening up his van door and climbing inside. He offered a hand to you, but you managed inside fine without it.

You lived about five miles north of his place on the outskirts of town, the baptist church, your fathers church, also being a mile from town. Your father was the only preacher in town to have children. The relationship with your parents was complicated. You idolized your mother, loved your father and brother. At the end of the day, that’s what was important and nothing else.

Three minutes into driving. Eddie couldn’t take the silence anymore. “So strangers, huh?” He forced a laugh to break the silence. “You consider me a stranger?”

You looked over at him, confused and in a daze. “No. But you don’t go to church.”

“So?”

“Daddy doesn’t want me to associate with people who don’t believe in God.”

“Who says I don’t believe in God?” He defended, hand on the wheel and other lighting a cigarette. “Just because I don’t go to church doesn’t mean I don’t believe in God, Y/n.”

“Do you?” You said curiously, eyes on the cigarette.

Eddie shrugged his shoulders, blowing smoke out the window. “I don’t not believe in God. I have bad luck as is. I don’t need God pissed at me for not believing in em’, ya know?”

His words didn’t make much sense to you, but regardless, you nodded and kept quiet. It wasn’t in your best interest to pry uncomfortable conversations. However, being the daughter of a preacher meant that students, your peers, liked to confess to you when they had problems. One day, Chrissy Cunningham had needed to get something off her chest, worried she was going to go to hell for smoking weed under the bleachers. You didn’t feel like Eddie needed this kind of treatment; counseling.

Eddie held out the cigarette for you to take, to which you politely accepted. It didn’t surprise him. He knew you smoked. He caught you one day underneath the large oak tree by lovers lake. He’d shocked him almost to his knees. He figured it was your only source of rebellion. He didn’t tease you for it.

You inhaled and exhaled, feeling ten times more relaxed as you breathed in the smoke. You handed it back to him. “Thank you.” You said softly. “It’s nice of you to take me home.”

He waved his hand nonchalantly. “I’m not gonna let the reverend’s daughter walk home in a storm. I probably wouldn’t get into heaven, would I?” He smirked over at you.

You couldn’t help but smile, tucking a hair behind your hair. The corner of his eye caught your hands, purple bruising around your knuckles. He stared at them for a moment, eyes bouncing between you, your hands and the road. They were angry and red, dark around the bone. It looked painful. He gave you one last look, a confused, strange one, before turning his eyes back to the road. How did you hurt your hands so badly? It looked like you’d been beating a punching bag all night long. He forced it out of his mind to stop thinking about it. It wasn’t his business.

“So,” Eddie cleared his throat. “You got big plans this weekend?”

“I’m going to read.” You answered plainly.

“Fun.”

He was kicking himself for being so awkward. He’d been thinking of you for months now, wanting to get you alone so he could understand why you had gotten under his skin. It’s not like you were drop dead gorgeous. You weren’t ugly by any means. You were pretty. But pretty like other girls he went to school with? It’s not like you shared similar interests. Hell, he wouldn’t know. You’d never share your interests with anyone anyways. Your hobbies consisted of reading the bible and sewing on the front porch.

Thunder began rolling in, rain hitting the window shield. Eddie turned on his wipers, quickly rolling up the drivers side window to avoid getting wet. You were looking out your window to the sky, bringing up a nail to bite.

“Scared of storms.” He noticed your habit of anxiety.

“No.” You shook your head. “I love them. I’m hoping for a tornado.”

He gave you a weird look, nodding. “Okay.”

You hoped the storm would destroy your home and everyone in it.

You swallowed back bile and pushed the sinful thoughts from your young mind, taking away your finger and down to your lap. Lightening struck.

“Shit.” Eddie cursed. “Maybe we should pull over. Shouldn’t drive in this.”

You stayed quiet, fingers mentally crossed the storm would worsen. You loved storms, the danger of it all. It could end your life and that excited you. It was up to mother nature whether you lived or died.

“There’s a boat dock with a shack up ahead. Reefer Rick’s place. He’s outta town.” Eddie spoke louder over the pelting rain, which was turning to hail. You both ran to the shack, your feet splashing in muddy puddles that dirtied up your pale legs.

You both panted when you got inside safely. You were cold, wrapping your arms around your freezing body. It was dark and musty, covered in cobwebs and mold, empty paint cans and boxes ruined from the leaky roof. You were warmer running out in the rain.

“Here.” Eddie held out his hellfire jacket to you.

You shook your head. “No, thank you.”

“You’re gonna get yourself a cold.” He kept his arm out stretched. “Come on, you’ve got less layers on than I do.”

“No, thank you.” You repeated. “I don’t like the…well, the logo of your club on the back.” Your cheeks blushed red in embarrassment, hoping not to hurt his feelings after saving you from the icy storm.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Suit yourself.”

Eddie fixed himself comfortably against the wall, huddled up in a little corner, breathing into his hands to warm himself up. You shivered in your spot, arms crossed and feet shuffling to stay warm yourself. “How long do you think the storm will last?”

“Thought you liked storms?” He didn’t look up at you, yet he still smirked slightly.

You swallowed and turned away to look around some more, hoping the movement would keep you from going into hypothermic shock.

An hour later and Eddie had managed to build a fire in a metal trash can that was cut in half. Rick had kept some wood and news papers in the closet, so Eddie used that until he had a descent fire roaring to give off satisfying warmth. The storm really wasn’t letting up. Eddie, was beginning to grow agitated. He’d been waiting months to spend time with you, understand you, and you would barely speak to him.

“How’d you do on the english test?”

It was hypocritical of him to talk about, or show interest in grades when he was riding the fine line of a D and F, but he was tired of the silence.

You sat a few feet away from him, curled up in yourself, his jacket thrown over your shoulders. He insisted you wear it when he heard your teeth start to chatter. Your dress was slightly damp, but growing more dry by the second, your hair ratted.

“I did okay.” You said meekly.

Eddie couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “You sure don’t say much, do you?”

You looked up to find him staring at you inquisitively. “I don’t have anything to say.”

“I think you have plenty to say, actually.” He corrected you, pointing a mud clad finger. “I think you’re just afraid of what people will think.”

“I know what people think of me.” You clasped your cross necklace. “They call me “plain Jane”.” I’m sure you’ve heard it before.”

He had in fact, yes. Even called you the term before, several times.

“It doesn’t matter to me, though.” You shook your head. “Only one person really judges us in the end.”

Eddie looked uneasy at the thought of being judged by…God. He looked you over, swallowing as he shook his head. “Fuckin’ hell.”

His language startled you. “What is it?”

He laughed, shaking a hand. “It’s just…I don’t know. I thought maybe it was fate that I got to pick you up today, so you know…we could get to know each other better.”

You gave him a strange look. “But you already know who I am.”

“I mean,” He stressed in annoyance. “I don’t know, take you out on a date or something? Damn.” He cursed, shaking his head like this was the absolute worst thing he’d ever done.

Your eyes widened and your lips parted. “Me?”

He nodded, leaning back and crossing his arms. He looked like he was a five year old pouting. “I get it if you’re not interested. Just tell me rather than sit there with your mouth hangin’ open.”

You closed it automatically, swallowing nervously. You were completely astonished. You never knew that Eddie had those kinds of feelings for you. Eddie was just…Eddie. He was always there causing mischief and trouble, picking fights here and there. But now that you sat and thought about it, there were many of times you recalled catching his eye in the hallway or the cafeteria. He was handsome. You liked his hair, though you knew your father wouldn’t approve of how long it was.

Your father wouldn’t like this, but he didn’t like you either. There wouldn’t be any chance of being able to go out with Eddie, not being able to risk him seeing the both of you together.

“Maybe,” You started, taking his jacket off your shoulders. “Maybe we could have our date here.”

“Here?” He craned a brow. “In this shack? Would be the cheapest date I’ve ever been on.” He chuckled, scratching above his eyebrow. “So you’re interested then? You’ll go out with me?”

Your smile turned into a frown, your guilt and fear sinking in. Eddie was a man, and just like any man, only wanted one thing. Surely a date was not a date. It was a date. You supposed you didn’t mind, after thinking about it for a moment. You didn’t mind the idea of sleeping with him. It excited you actually, but not anymore than the idea of being taken out, treated like a real lady.

“Alright.” You nodded.

He smiled, clapping his hands together. “Good.”

Five minutes past. No one had said anything. You assumed he wanted you to make the move. You startled him when you crawled over to him. “What are-” Was all he’d gotten out before you were climbing into his lap to roughly kiss him. It was all so sudden, and his body was having a hard time registering what happened. He couldn’t keep up with you.

When he did, he cupped the back of your head and slipped his tongue into your mouth, your own saliva dripping down his chin. Your hand slipped from his chest to his belt, but before you could undue it, Eddie’s eyes opened and narrowed. “Whoa, now,” He chuckled, pushing you back gently. “Slow down.”

“You don’t like it?” You looked hurt. “I thought-”

“Well, yeah,” He chuckled. “I liked what you were doing, but all in good time sweetheart.”

It was so fast and so sudden, everything that had happened. Your heart was still racing from making out, your body still wracking with building pleasure. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize.” He scooted up against the wall. “It’s okay. I just want to take you out on an actual date. I didn’t mean I just wanted to fuck you in this old shack.” He snorted, teeth shining in the dark. He looked so amused, so interested in you.

“O-oh.” You stammered. “I didn’t know.”

“Is that okay?” He asked you.

“Oh, yes, yes,” You rushed, glowing red. You didn’t know how dates worked. You didn’t go on them. You weren’t allowed to leave the house very much anyways. You weren’t sure what excuse you’d be able to come up with to get away, but surely you’d come up with something. You were sneaky, after all. Had to be.

Eddie could tell by your body language that you’d never been asked out before. As dirty as it was, that excited him. When the rain stopped, he helped you up, put out the fire and drove you him. He never stopped thinking about your hand on his chest, and neither did you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson x y/n #eddie blurb #eddie munson x female character

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dreamgrlarchive · 1 year

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Dear dream girl, I really want to be my dream girl but I don’t know where to start. I feel unmotivated most of the time and I only get a burst of motivation at like 3 am. I just what to glow and radiate good energy for myself and find/do what I like

Oh, So You Wanna Be a Dream Girl? 🎀

starting your dream girl journey

Congrats on choosing yourself and your tiara; I am so proud. Prepare to not be liked, to be judged, and to stand out. It’s lonely at the top.

*this guide is for starting the process, not reaching the end result because my version of my own dream girl is inevitably different than yours. bare in mind i’m not holding your hand. i’m nudging you in a good direction.

what is a dream girl?

a dream girl is a girl that has finally fallen in love with who she sees in the mirror. she’s the girl that she can depend on. she has her desired look and she’s on the path to self actualization actively. she’s aware of her branding. she holds herself to the standards she holds other to; and they are HIGH. her self worth isn’t contingent upon a love interest, amount of money, or social status. she’s simply that girl.

do some healing.

yes, i said it. healing. like i’ve said before, you cannot put glitter on literal garbage. that’s not even the slightest bit appealing. you’re gonna journal about your childhood, your biggest influences in life, your biggest fears and how you feel life has treated you. this calls for shadow work. shadow working really helped me figure out some of my toxic traits and how some of the things that were considered normal to me as a child have affected me in the long run. you’re also gonna write hypothetical letters to your loved (and not-so-loved) ones, including yourself. let it all out. say everything you want that person to know. around you or not, dead or alive. prepare to clam up, cry, get angry, feel anxious. good. you should. you feel clammy, hot and sometimes pain when your body is fighting off and healing from a physical sickness. now you’re dealing with the developmental, mental, and emotional parts. you’re doing yourself a disservice choosing to stay the same toxic, nasty, mean, or victimized person you’ve always been.

what do you want?

before you can start to even do the smallest improvements, you have to have a clear goal. or else you’ll just be running around in circles (heh) over grandiose blurry wishful thinking. ultimately resulting in you giving up and choosing to be basic bc it’s easier. what do you want out of life? how do you want to be treated? what do you want to do? what makes you happy? and most importantly, how do you want to feel? see, it’s more than just the frills and glitter. you have to know what you’re trying to get to, internally and externally.

grab a diary, adorn it with pretty little details and commit to it. pair it with your fav writing utensil. outline all of your goals. every single last one of them. you can categorize them, scale them from short to long term, easy to hard. it doesn’t matter. do absolutely what you want to do to make a concrete record of your goals that’s digestible for you.

what are you going to do?

*fabulosity by kimora lee simmons*

compare your dream reality to the one you’re currently experiencing. what is she doing that you aren’t? that’s it. do that. anyone can read blogs about the process and other people success stories but those posts aren’t gonna change your life unless you get up and go for what you want. i don’t know what exactly you desire out of life. you do. so you have the instructions for this journey. the first part was easy, this is simple but not nearly as effortless. it’s up to you and not anyone else. you teach others how to treat you. improvements you can make include better: hygiene, self talk/treatment, outward energy, work ethic, discipline, health, consumed content, relationships, looks, habits.

the work

it’s time to apply yourself. get up everyday and actively work towards your goal. be kind to yourself. take yourself to the doctors. get active. eat right. find your passion. DO THE HEALING.

everyone’s journey is SO different so i’m just going to do a quick rundown of the importance of each of the ten facets of your dream girl journey (that build upon each other. ie; looks do not benefit you when your hygiene is insufficient):

*these facets are loosely based on maslow’s hierarchy of needs

health - are you taking care of yourself? please treat yourself how you would your loved ones. you’ll be surprised how physical issues manifest mentally, and vice versa. get adequate sleep. take baby steps if need be. some of these adjustments may be huge to you. be gracious with your journey.

consumed content - everything you engage in is your diet. the company you keep, food you eat, music you enjoy. you get the idea. do you feel light and ready to take on the day? or do you feel drained and sick more often than not. make some adjustments wherever you see necessary.

hygiene - extremely important. stick to a routine for your hygienic needs. you should have rituals you engage in everyday. don’t forget that your health and hygiene go hand in hand. oral and feminine hygiene is so crazily important. please don’t neglect yourself. i talk about my routines in detail here.

habits - daily habits are so crucial to your lifestyle. adjust these and consciously break your bad habits by supplementing your life with equal and opposite habits.

self talk/treatment - simple. be kind to yourself. hold yourself accountable for flaws and mistakes while loving yourself enough to be patient with the journey of improving.

outward energy - be very aware of the vibes you’re permeating. again this is so a huge determination of how you will be treated and how you will live your life.

work ethic/discipline - it’s gonna take serious accountability to escape the desire to stay comfortable. you have to tell yourself that you deserve *your desired end result* so you will *make specific change/adjustment.* it’s that simple (again simple doesn’t mean easy).

relationships - if you don’t like the way you’re treated by those in your life, those relationships need to be reevaluated. you can make some trims on your circle, have some honest conversations, or adjust your behaviors (because sometimes, YOU are the problem).

passion and career - in order to feel fulfilled in life, we all need a purpose. discover yours. incorporate your passion into your daily life.

looks - develop your signature and hone in on it. looks are very important to your perception (self and public). check out this guide to help with this part. however you wanna feel is how you should display yourself.

be a dream girl!

you’ve discovered all the facets of creating your dream self and reality. now it’s time to apply what you’ve learned. start showing up in life in the fashion you want to be seen in.

that’s it! the rest is up to you!

- xoxo, dreamgrlarchive 🎀

#dream girl journey #my posts #dream girl cultivation #dream girl wellness

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kiame-sama · 2 months

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Omggggggg Zestial would be the BEST yandere papa out there istg I love your new fic 💜💜💜

Warnings; Same for Hazbin, platonic yandere, gender neutral reader, stalking

~~~~~~~~

"This day doth become itself. With luck, Pride shall be treated to acid rain come the eve."

Zestial hummed with a pleasant smile gracing his inhuman features as he walked along the sidewalk by your side. He had been a fairly persistent companion to you ever since you struck your deal with him. Though it had been several months, you were only now adjusting to life in Hell.

That first week Zestial never left your side, and not a single sinner dared look your way for too long. The only other sinners you really interacted with were overlords and even they were rather far and few between. It wasn't easy to get used to the constant din of Hell, but you did what you could.

You were quick to warm up to your room in Zestial's manor and he often let you have free roam so long as you stayed inside. It was a very quiet place compared to the rest of Hell and you figured that Zestial was not one for being doted on or fawned over. Still, he seemed to value your presence in his home so you refused to question him on it.

Month one ended in a difficult way as you learned just why you were called a Sin Eater. You had gathered that you consumed an overlord your first day in Hell and that's likely why it took so long for the hunger to set in again. When it did finally take hold of you, Zestial was swift to intervene and found a soul of his own to satiate that howling emptiness. Returning to awareness was not pleasant but the ancient Overlord was a gentle comfort in your distressed state.

You learned to recognize the signs when your hunger was about to set in and warn Zestial of it prior to a black-out. He was always quick to aquire or procure a sinner for you and never seemed bothered by it. When you did finally question him he had just smiled and told you he knew what he agreed to by making a contract with you.

It was at the three month mark you realized the contract was both to protect you from Hell and to protect Hell from you. Zestial finally allowed Carmilla to tell you what other Sin Eaters had done prior to your arrival. There was a reason they were destroyed quickly and without mercy.

Carmilla still didn't trust you, but she trusted that Zestial had a good grasp on the unfortunate nature of your soul. It was with her approval that you started to venture out without Zestial by your side in constant. Unbeknownst to you, he simply stayed in the shadows and still followed your every step.

Now at the second day of month four he was walking with you to see Carmilla. Though it was what one could consider a sunny day in Hell, you weren't feeling as happy or pleasant as Zestial was. Something had happened that first day of the month and you were worried how Zestial would take it. Coincidentally that was also the first time Zestial truly let you navigate Hell without hovering over your shoulder.

"What weighs upon thy soul, young (Y/n)?"

Ever perceptive as always, he picked up on the way you seemed so occupied with your thoughts. Deciding to give a gentle nudge at first to see if you would share willingly. Though he did not want to command you to tell him, he still felt he needed to know what had you so distracted.

"Nothing."

"(Y/n), thy soul spins another yarn, do not presume to lie."

"I... Something happened yesterday."

"Do tell."

"it- it wasn't something big. Just... Some sinners seemed to think I had money they could take."

"Did it come to blows?"

"No... I just didn't fight back when the started taking my stuff and they left after realizing I didn't have anything they wanted."

There was a moment of silence as you tried to play it off like it wasn't a big deal, but you had managed to keep your voracious nature under control. However, Zestial was less than pleased. He was not angry that you got into a fight, he was upset you didn't call for his aid or kill the other sinners. He would rather you kill them than let others harass you and take advantage of you.

"Tell me, (Y/n), doth thou not place value on thine own life?"

"But... I thought I wasn't supposed to fight-"

"Child," Zestial interrupted, turning to face you fully, "thou art supposed to call upon me in times of strife. Thy deal is in place for a reason."

Zestial was clearly displeased and you felt genuinely bothered to have upset him especially when you had been trying so hard to not be a problem to the elder overlord. As you saw it, Zestial was both patient and caring towards you, so upsetting him was a difficult pill to swallow.

"I'm sorry, Zestial. I didn't mean to make you mad. I- I'm sorry."

He let out a soft sigh, the frustration seeming to melt from his person as he straightened up.

"It is not anger that occupies me, Child. It is concern. A Sin Eater may be thine title, but thy soul doth belong to me. Those who target mine own souls doth incur my wrath upon their house. Thou art one of my treasures and thy soul was at risk. And had they been displeased to find no items of value upon thy person, they could have turned to pleasures of the flesh instead. Call me to thy side whenever anyone tries to give thee trouble, that is an order."

"Ye-yes, Zestial."

The elder sinner frowned slightly before he pulled you to his side, checking you over for any sign of mistreatment. He almost finished his inspection with nothing to show for it before he paused, seeing the ring of deep bruises around your wrist where one of your assailants grabbed you. There was a long moment of silence as he stared at the ring around your wrist, his eyes all widening as the top two gained red irises with black pupils.

"The second thou doth lay eyes upon these sinners again, thou shalt immediately call upon me so that punishment may be delivered. This is also an order."

"Yes, Zestial."

"Clearly it was my folly to believe that thou could walk amongst the streets of Pride unattended. It is not a mistake that shall be made again."

When Zestial released your wrist, the ring of bruises was gone and he had returned to a much calmer state. One large hand rest upon your shoulder as he began to walk once again, leading you towards Carmilla's home among the streets of Hell.

Sinners ran and hid the second they saw Zestial in broad daylight, but there were eyes that still trailed after the soul by the overlord's side. Cameras turned and focused on the little soul, wondering just what use the oldest overlord could possibly have for them. Certainly another valuable soul was on the market and the ever watchful Vox of the Vees was looking to cash in.

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #platonic yandere #yandere Zestial #gn reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n

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killakirby · 1 year

Text

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾　late night flying　☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

notifications ☽︎: feelings of inadequacy, stress, near death experiences, na'vi body descriptions, fem!na'vi!reader, sully's being teases

developer's notes ☽︎: hey i did say it would be out around this time :/ i'm doing my best. first work on tumblr since like 2016 be kind i'm supplying my thirst. i was just checking the word count to paste it here, and i genuinely thought lo'ak's was shorter than neteyam's, i was wrong 💀 prepare yourself, it's a novel lmao and yes this is a reminder that i consider these drabbles. also if you find yourself loving this work send me an ask for a request and i'd be thrilled to fulfill it!

much love, <3 kirby !!!

⋆☾ NETEYAM SULLY - 1.8k words

it’s difficult for neteyam to have the time and energy to be an impulsive and disobedient kid like his brother. he spends most of his time shadowing his parents learning how to lead or chasing after his younger siblings and making sure that in their shenanigans they don’t get hurt. so, most of the time he’s only disobedient when he’s making sure his siblings are safe, which is honorable and cute. neteyam is also disobedient when he finds himself wanting to spend more time with you.

the fifteen years neteyam has been living, he’s constantly had people tell him that he’s a perfect son. that he’s smart, compassionate, strong; that he's going to be a great warrior–and a great olo’eyktan. however, he hasn’t heard that he’s the perfect son from his parents, but he doesn't have to hear it to know that they’re thinking it. he sees in how they scold lo’ak after another stupid stunt he pulled, “why can’t you try to be more careful? or, better yet, less reckless?” his dad would ask. neteyam knows the only thing lo’ak heard is, “why can’t you be more like your brother?” and it’s starting to be the only thing neteyam hears too. when he was younger he probably wouldn’t care so much about the jealous and now defeated looks lo’ak throws his way, but recently, neteyam is feeling every molecule of pressure from the village, his siblings, and his parents to continue being perfect. it doesn’t help that lo’ak has seemed to become resigned in his role of irresponsible-impulsive-brother, too, it only magnifies the pressure on neteyam to be better.

spider, lo’ak, kiri (and even tuk!), tease him for being a “goody-two shoes,” an english phrase their father had taught them. and today neteyam has had enough of hearing it. he woke up early with his father to prepare their ikran for patrol, sparred with him for hours, had his bow and flight technique nitpicked by his mother, and now he has to supervise his siblings scaling the mountains to make sure they don’t die exploring without the permission of their parents. and when they all tease him for being a “goody-two shoes,” for not wanting to venture further, he snaps. neteyam hisses and stalks his way over to the edge of the mountain, “whatever. go ahead and get involved in some dangerously stupid situation that you can’t get yourself out of and when i’m not there to save you, like i always am, have fun calling mom and dad to save your ass! and i’ll make sure to be back to enjoy seeing your dumbassess getting yelled at for your lack of brain cells, as usual.”

he calls his ikran, initiates the bond, ignores the calls apologizing and telling him to stop, and takes off into the sky. neteyam flies for what feels like minutes to him–feels the wind cascade through his braids, the cool air rushing across his skin, the sun battling the breeze to warm him, the complete understanding between him and his ikran, not needing to a single word or thought to guide. as he’s gliding through a spattering of small mountains and makes out your form and ikran ground atop of one, his curiosity gets the best of him this time, and he lands next to you.

you’re on the ground leaning against the body of your ikran, it’s wing shielding you from the strong rays of the sun, keeping you cool. the freckles on your smooth blue-toned skin are glowing a soft white under the shade of the wing, a false replication of night. your legs are comfortably stretched-out and crossed in front of you, along with your arms crossed over your chest, your head and back resting on the warm ikran. as neteyam walks closer he sees your chest rising and falling slowly, eyes gently shut, and a look of bliss on your face. he sighs, relieved, greets your ikran with a bow of his head, and gets a welcoming coo of acknowledgment and a head shake in return, jostling your body and causing you to rouse.

a soft groan leaves your lips, ears and tail flicking in displeasure, before your eyes flutter open and drowsily make contact with his own. you blink a few times, making a small sound of confusion, “huh?”, and your hands come up to rub at your eyes, as if seeing him here is a figment of your imagination. neteyam smiles, a warm laugh escaping him, amused by how adorable you are, even though he disturbed you from your little nap. his amusement lets you know he is in fact real, his laugh awakens the butterflies in your stomach, and your tail hides in embarrassment at being caught hiding (by him, of all people) away from everyone else, as your cheeks darken into an indigo-tinted blush.

you shyly make an effort at eye contact and fail as you try to explain your situation to him. “i was just–”, he waves off your voice and states with a small smirk, “no need to explain yourself, it’s not like you’re in trouble with me.” you shrug, muttering a few deprecating words to yourself and are about to stand, when neteyam sits next you. he pulls his knees to his chest, arms wrapped around himself, chin resting on his knees, sighing deeply, eyes fixed ahead on the skyscape, his strikingly handsome faced furrowed with anger? stress? hopelessness?

your eyes widen, shocked at how small he manages to look. it’s incredibly rare that he allows anybody to see him this vulnerable; he’s usually impeccably composed–attractively confident and sure of himself–but the idea that he’s allowing you to see him like this is a privilege you will not take advantage of. you scooch closer to him and place a gentle hand on his shoulder and softly ask, “are you feeling okay?” there’s silence for a while before his lips parted and shut, hesitating, before he shook his head, so faintly it was almost unnoticeable. you nodded, “ do you want to talk about it?” and received a verbal response this time, “no.” with a light rasp to his voice. with another nod, you delicately squeeze his shoulder and offer comfort, “then we will not talk about it. but, if you ever find yourself needing someone to talk to, you can always come to me. the circumstances do not matter. if you want advice, i’ll do my best to advise. if you want me to simply listen, my ears will be open. if you want to sit in silence, ill sit silently with you so you are not alone.”

neteyam turns to you in disbelief at the sincerity within your words, and surprises himself with how close you are, faces only inches apart. your eyes widen and you lean back a little bit, hand slipping off his shoulder, but the earnest look in your gaze remains, trying to gauge his response to your pledge. neteyam shakes his head at you, a happy scoff escapes his lips, and he calls you stupid for resigning yourself to a one-sided promise. you put your hands on your hips and tilt your head at him, not falling for the insult. “all that matters to me is that you have someone to speak your true feelings to and not allow them to eat at you from the inside out.” neteyam observes the seriousness in your eyes, the way your ears are turned towards him, the way tension coils in your tail, the way your eyes shift from his to the ground as if you’re just now considering the possibility that he may reject your offer.

neteyam stands, and nods affirmatively, tail flicking, “okay. i do not wish to talk about it. but now as my newly designated comfort person, you have to fly with me.” he offers you his hand, and gently raises you to your feet. you giggle at him, head tilted up to meet his eyes, “there has to be a better title besides ‘comfort person’ but i’ll take it! uh…are you going to let go of my hand so we can get flying?” neteyam drops your hand, and scratches at his head, now it’s his turn for his cheeks to turn indigo. you mount your ikran, and call down to him with a smirk on your face, “trying to race?” neteyam laughs at you, goading, “when i win, don’t hurt yourself trying to eat my dust!” you kick-off getting a head start, and neteyam is quick to mount his ikran and follow you into the sky.

the challenge you had set began with adrenaline-pumped blood, heavy breathing, sharp turns, dives and peaks, free-falling, frivolous chasing after one other, the lead switching between the two of you often, screams of glee and awe when one of you pulled off an unreal maneuver–and turned into cruising instead of racing. eclipse had long since passed, somehow going unnoticed by you and surprisingly, neteyam. your gliding had turned into intertwining flight paths–swirling, flipping, mixing, turning, all synchronized as if it were a dance you two had practiced many times before. neteyam finds himself distracted from guiding his ikran, as his whole thought process becomes consumed with the image of you.

the bioluminescent freckles twinkling on your face in an unknown pattern, and he wonders if his match yours. the way you let your eyes drift shut, how your head is tilted back, how your arms raise and spread into the air as your ikran coasts through a flip in the air. a soft smile remains constant on your lips as you fly, and grows larger when you open your eyes again and turn to him. you pick up speed to overtake him, and set the path through a few cliff sides, while neteyam raises his hand to his face and realizes that he’s been grinning like a madman the whole time he’s been with you. when you two escape the maze of terrain, he coasts right next to you and sees the moonlight hit your lithe body at the perfect angle and allows himself to accept the fact that he’s falling in love with you. and then his heart drops into his stomach, his ikran shrieks and comes to a sudden stop, wings flapping frantically to remain in the same space– sending you and your ikran into a panic, as you quickly turn back to him, and worriedly question him, scared at the paled look on his face.

neteyam buries his face into his hands and silences your bewilderment by pulling a hand from his face and pointing into the sky, finally bringing your awareness to you guys messing around way past eclipse. you eyes widen and your mouth drops open, a groan of despair escaping you, and you look at neteyam, and both of you say,

“we’re so dead.”

and as you two start to race home, debating whether or not to lie about how you guys ended up losing track of time this badly, neteyam can’t help but think that any punishment he receives from his mom and dad wouldn’t matter, in light of the discovery he made today. the fact that he’s falling in love with you, and the fact that he doesn’t want to do anything to stop it.

⋆☾ LO'AK SULLY - 2k words

lo’ak’s just finished being scolded by not only his mother and his father, but also his grandmother after his latest stunt of nearly killing his younger sister, tuk, unintentionally of course. how was he supposed to know that she was going to sneeze and fall off the vines connecting the mountains plummeting to the ground only to be saved by neteyam on his ikran…again. in his anger of being banned from patrolling and flying for two weeks he sulks into the jungle and comes across you.

lo’ak retreats into the jungle after being dismissed by his father, angered and simultaneously exhausted. it’s like his parents think that he purposely tried to kill his little sister–why would he want that?? and at the bare minimum, why don’t they scold tuk for tagging along and blackmailing him all the time? “if you don’t take me, i’m going to tell” she’d singsong at him. even though he’s breaking rules anyway, they should at least tell tuk not to partake in it with him.

he wasn’t even planning on getting in trouble today! tomorrow,he was supposed to join his parents and neteyam on checking the borders of their land, and he just wanted to share the news with his ikran. so when tuk wanted to come along to see the ikrans, he thought nothing could possibly go wrong, they’re all grouped next to their main dwelling in the mountains. he helped tuk climb to the top, and they both greeted the flock and made their way to his mount. he bring his hand to his forehead and gestures towards the animal, and tuk does the same. the ikran leans towards tuk and snorts at her gently blowing stray grass on to her face. she shrieks and giggles freely–happily, and lo’ak gently laughs at them as he bring his hand to pet the playful animal.

tuk mimics her older brother and gently pats the ikran on the snout a few times before she becomes distracted at the others milling around uninterestedly. she goes off to examine a few juvenile ikrans and lo’ak prods her, “hey! make sure to stay where i can see and hear you!” tuk nods vigorously and begins to play with the babies. lo’ak watches over her quietly for a few minutes, trying to determine whether or not any of the birds are going to try and swallow her whole, and nods acceptingly after witnessing the mature ikrans grumble and waddle away from her instead of attacking her.

with his sister’s safety secured he turns around to face his ikran (his ears still pinned in her direction) and forms the tsaheylu with his ride–amber pupils blown wide as the bond is initiated. lo’ak loses himself in his thoughts, illustrating them for the animal, and is only shaken from it when he hears his sister sneeze, which is quickly followed by a bone-chilling shriek. his body snaps around so quickly that his braid rips from the bond, and he see his little sister fall in what seems like slow-motion. lo’ak screams her name as she falls over the edge, and instinctively reconnects with his ikran and flies over the edge to try and catch her. he’s diving straight down, gaining on her but not quickly enough for the panic and fear to subside in his chest. he’s reaching out– his hand a few feet apart from tuk’s, and he misses the first grab, the second grab, and then her body is snatched out freefall and into neteyam’s arms.

lo’ak levels out and speeds towards them, tuk clinging onto their brother–head buried into his chest, sobs wracking her tiny form. neteyam’s hand cradles her head, and he turns to lo’ak ready to yell at him, but the expression on his younger brother’s face stops him. there’s fear in his eyes, tears running down his cheeks and he keeps trying to wipe them away but he can’t seem to stop himself from crying. neteyam smoothly guides his ikran right next to lo’ak and gently detaches tuk from his body and into his brother’s who hesitantly accepts her onto his saddle. she clings on to him crying erratically, broken “sorry’s” falling from her mouth in between sobs, and even as lo’ak comforts her pulling her close and rubbing his hand down her back in a soothing manner, the look in his eyes betrays him; that’s he's feels undeserving of her apologies. neteyam gently rubs lo’ak on the back, and does nothing besides giving him an understanding nod, and coasts in front of him to lead them home.

“my parents only heard the fact that tuk fell, and not the fact that i feel like shit for letting that happen to her!! it’s like they genuinely think that im putting her in dangerous situations on purpose! like i find some sort of satisfaction in it! i’m not a psychopath, i’m her brother! i care about her safety more than my own! i’d literally die for tuk!” he rants to you. he stumbled across you sitting on a river bank sharpening your knife, and as soon as you saw him you cringed at his expression and asked a simple, “you going to tell me what happened this time?” and now hear you are, listening to lo’ak repeat the same argument against his parents’ for what had to be hours. you glance at the sky and see the sun beginning to bridge the horizon, eclipse will fall upon you two soon.

for the first time you interrupt and ask, “did you tell your parents that?” lo’ak throws his hands up in the air and begins pacing back and forth exasperatedly claiming, “i tried!! multiple times! and they just spoke over me–they didn’t want to hear it! even neteyam came to my defense trying to explain for me, and they dismissed his words too!!” your eyes widened as you said perplexed, “they ignored what neteyam had to say?” lo’ak screamed, “yes!” in complete disbelief.

“and now you’re banned from flying,” you clarify.

“yes!”

“and patrolling.”

“yes!!”

you nodded at him, “well it could be a lot worse—”

“what??! what do you mean a lot worse?! this is terrible!” he cried out.

“they could’ve banned you from flying forever,” you smirked at him.

he sighs, a petty little “not funny” escaping from him, and you laugh, letting him know that you thought your joke was funny enough. you watch him continue to pace, his body language still unsettled (you just can’t determine if it’s from his punishment, or not being enough to save his sister), his fingers rake through his braids tugging and pulling at his scalp frustratedly, and you’ve had enough when you see the deep blue skin on his hands start to lighten with the force and grasp he has on his hair. you intercept his path, place an unyielding hand on his chest holding him in place, and with a firm look on your face you demand, “stop tugging at your hair like that. you’ve spent so much time growing these pretty braids it would be a shame to see you rip them out of your own skull.”

lo’ak freezes, eyes wide and locked onto yours, as he releases his braids and his arms fall limp at his sides. he’s not sure if he stopped because he was listening to your instructions, or if because he short-circuited when you called him pretty (okay, you called his braids pretty–it’s a miniscule difference). you state confidently, “if you are not allowed to fly for the next two weeks, that does not mean that i am not allowed fly. which means that you are allowed to fly with me.” lo’ak balks at your bold statement, “uh…” hesitantly calling out to you as you step away from him (your hand just now falling from his chest, yes he noticed) and summon your ikran. he goes, “uhhhh, no! nope! i do not think that is what that means at all!” you climb onto your saddle, and plead, “lo’ak, please let me try to make you feel better. they won’t be wondering where you are until eclipse, and we only have a couple hours left before we lose daylight. fly with me one last time until you really can’t?”

he shifts his weight, battling with himself before he sighs and allows you to help him onto the back of the saddle, “alright, but only until eclipse, okay?” you cheer, and commence a quick take off, causing lo’ak to shout and hurriedly wrap his arms around your waist, and how is this the first time he’s noticed how small you are compared to him. you continue to direct your ikran upwards and into the clouds bringing him further away from his troubles on the ground.

your waist is enveloped completely by just one of his arms, and in order to make the ride more comfortable he pulls his hands backwards and just grasps carefully at the sides of your waist instead, his fingers almost close enough to touch across your stomach. it seems you’ve just become aware of the situation and he feels your breath catch, and stomach tense, but you say nothing, content to avoid addressing it and let him handle it. he sees the deeper shade to your cheeks and smiles boyishly and he knows that you know that he’s cheesing at you, but you refuse to acknowledge his amusement, keeping your eyes fixed forward but the blush becomes noticeable on your ears, and begins to spread to your chest, and he can’t stop himself from audibly laughing. in retaliation, you command your ikran into a sharp flip, and lo’ak’s gasp interrupts his laughter, and he tightens his grasp on your waist to stop himself from sliding.

when you level out it appears that night has finally overtaken day, but the both of you are too busy squealing internally at the fact that his agile, strong, trained, veiny hands are gripping your waist. the bioluminesce begins to sparkle over your body, and he merely leans back to get a better look at you. you turn to look at him and see a soft smile on his face, his eyes overflowing with feelings he has yet to speak with you about; and nevertheless, you understand completely, and you’re sure it’s reflected at him in your own gaze. you shyly face frontwards again, recognizing that you embarrassed yourself enough around him today with bold words and touches, but lo’ak does not let you hide for long. he scoots forward completely, no longer worried about maintaining the space between you. his chest envelopes your back and he leans forward to gently place a fleeting kiss on your cheek, your breath catches again. instead of teasing you as before, he pulls back–dropping one hand to the body of your ikran and allows the other to wrap across you more firmly, his hand pressing against your abdomen encouraging you to rest against him, and you breathe deeply, allowing yourself to be embraced. his chin goes to rest on your head, and you allow your ikran to guide you home, fully at ease in lo’ak’s arms.

lo’ak gently offers, “let’s spend a little more time out here. just you and me, together.” you begin to half-heartedly reject, reminding him of the circumstances of his punishment and curfew. he waves you off, “it does not matter, you said it yourself. they can’t ban me from flying forever, what’s another week of grounding to the two i have already?” you twist to make sure of his decision, before nodding and turning around again, settling yourself even deeper and more comfortably in his hold.

you suggest to your ikran to take the longest path home.

#kirby's crafts ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗#☾...avatar way of water...☽#⋆｡°✩drabbles #✩...neteyam sully...✩#✩...lo'ak sully...✩#neteyam x reader #loak x reader #lo'ak x reader #neteyam #neteyam sully #lo'ak #loak #lo'ak sully #loak sully #avatar way of water #avatar 2 #atwow #atwow x reader

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some-thrilling-heroics · 29 days

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i'm workshopping halsin's past in terms of relationships

considering that halsin was very likely bullied as a kid (thaniel was his only friend) and how he is a prime target for an abusive relationship (you can say all kinds of nasty things to him and he will just look sad but not break up with you or draw any kind of line that next time it's over or anything - and sure player chara lifts the curse so it's all magic on a pedestal and heart eyes but still…)

the way i see it time-wise: he's 350 now and i don't see him having any relationships like that since the shadow curse / taking over as archdruid, so that takes us down to him at 250 - his slavery 3 years were in his youth so im gonna assume that's closer to him either below or just around 100 so let's say ages 20-80/100 he might have had some relationships, then underdark happened at some point and then ages 80/100-250 again he is out and might be in relationships

so with that in mind, i'm trying to picture his past relationships and how they ended, what could be some common threats in most / many of them and were the breakups amicable or not

maybe besides duty and power imbalance and lack of peers / actual friends the reason he didn't have any relationship in the time as archdruid would also be that he was at that point aware enough that when he gets involved with sb he is easily manipulated by them, even if a relationship starts all sunshine and roses it always devolves when the other party(-ies) pick up on that and - not even to keep himself safe from that but to keep the grove safe from the potential dangers of that - he stayed single? that would also fit with him expecting the ship with tav to end even if it's going well and they are living in the commune, he's still waiting for that other shoe to drop, like all the other times

would his past lovers have issue with his relationship with his bear shape? they'd know he's a druid but he's not exactly standard in his approach, whether you go with werebear approach or not. would that have been a point of conflict in some relationships? would he have ended things if it was?

would some of them - either intentionally or through ignorance - hear him say openly he's polyamorous and take it as an open invitation to cheat on him or to involve third parties without properly discussing it with halsin and just assuming he'd be up for anything and with anybody? (i get wood elves are culturally polyamorous so this point might not necessarily apply to them, but clearly halsin doesn't limit himself to just dating wood elves)

on the flipside i don't want him to only have bad relationships, or only ones that in time turn abusive, but what would happen there? imo the simplest would be 'we're just having fun and want different things long term from life' or duty calls and the like that would necessitate a breakup. i would hate the idea that tav is the only / first good happy steady relationship in his long life and thus somehow special - outside of the special aspect being around the curse breaking bc can't argue with that.

thoughts? anybody?

#halsin #baldur's gate 3 #bg3

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val-cansalute · 5 months

Text

PICKING UP THE ———- PIECES -———

ch. 1

ch. 2

ch. 3

ch. 4

ch. 5

ch. 6

a/n: short first chapter 🫤 also BORING AS FOCK but the next few will be longer and better, just stick with me cw: implied depression/ptsd, dark themes, not too heavy but please don’t read if this might trigger you, angst, no smut in this chapter but there might be some later on, creds to cafekitsune for dividers, MDNI 😡

Six months ago today, your gaunt figure limped through Jackson for the first time, arms scarred and trembling, and face adorned with a vacant expression. You’ve been here for a while now.

You heard Maria say, with time, you’d come out of your shell - actually speak to the others. But, no, you still stay holed up in your decaying room, recalling what happened that day obsessively, and only ever leaving to go on patrol. Only when you absolutely have to.

God, you don’t even know if you can call this grief anymore. Seems as though you built a nest in the sorrow. Would it still be considered missing him if you desperately want to stop seeing his face whenever you close your eyes.

Fuck, don't say that. Never say that.

Promise I still love you, big brother. Promise I'd do anything to see you again.

Well, nobody really pays you any mind; you just sink into the shadows of the shitty little apartment you've been put in. And it doesn’t matter to you because the thought of getting close to people again makes you sick anyway.

Never wanna feel this pain. Never again. Fuck, just go away, please.

I'm so sorry, Soren.

You’ve waited it out for months but, at this point, you've given up hope. Feels like maybe it’s time to go be on your own. You know it’s dumb, but you haven’t got much to live for now that he’s gone.

Late night, you crawl into the comfort of misery, chaining yourself to each painful memory; you cannot leave a single shard behind. Not one.

You will carry this with you for the rest of your days.

Somewhere along the line, dark fades to light and your mind goes blank for the first time in an eternity as you get up to follow that same routine.

Today, same as yesterday, and yesterday's yesterday, and yesterday's yesterday's yesterday, etc., etc., your partner is Ellie.

Maria seems to think the two of you are acquaintances, especially since the extroverted people around your age hadn't been able to drag much more than a few words out of you, but you don’t really talk, you stay out of each other’s ways.

You struggle to keep the smile up against the pushback of your aching cheeks when you’re talking to other people. Can never let them see.

Not even for a good reason. God, it’s just such an effort to talk about. It’s better for it to just nestle in your mind, where it’s made it’s home, where it’s comfortable.

Maybe part of why you stay out of each other’s ways is because you'd inadvertently come off as a dick during your first encounter, which would've been enough to push the already closed off Ellie to not interact with you at all. You weren't actually being rude though; she's hopefully figured that out at this point. She probably just got used to the interactions between you; silence dusted with passive aggressive remarks.

But, she doesn’t say much when you freak the fuck out if a clicker comes at you in a way that brings back memories. You’re grateful, regardless of her reason for doing so.

Perhaps it's the thought of leaving that is the spur to prick your sudden violence and, now, even you can tell you're getting worse. The feeling - it ensnares you like a bear trap when you see a clicker, so you fire frantically at its head. Blood splatters all over your front and you pull at the hem of your shirt to get a better look, mumbling, "Shit..." when you see the white fabric soaked through with the clicker's blood; cold water to the face.

Among the chaos, you must have turned on your foot weirdly, because your ankle feels like a stake has been stabbed right through it with each movement and you don’t know if you can walk.

Ellie finally manages to trace the sound of the gunshot to you after calling your name in worry for the past couple of minutes, running over to you. She pulls you around and looks over your jittery body for anything to worry about - brushes a thumb over the wet material, jerking it away before you can notice; you’re hyper aware, so you always manage to anyway - and then furrows her brows at you.

“Can you stop fucking around?”

You nod apologetically,

"Sorry. Feeling a bit out of it today..."

She sighs, still clearly angry, and turns away, "Let's go. We’re done here.”

You watch her figure retreat as you mount your horse with shaky footing. The ride back is a silent one. Once you reach the gates, you get off and pat the horse’s side. It has a name; you never cared to learn it. Maybe you knew you couldn’t stick around for long.

“Come on. Why are you just standing there?"

When your eyes meet hers, you feel utterly pathetic, but you don't have much of a choice.

“Can you… find, like, a stick? A big one...”

She stays quiet for a moment, seemingly thrown off by your question, so you're quick to add,

“I would do it but... I don't know, fuck, never mind...”

Ellie raises an eyebrow at you, her line of sight flicking down to your ankle as she takes note of your awkward stance and mutters with a sigh that makes you feel small, "Pain in the ass," before shaking her head.

"Yeah, it looks pretty bad," Ellie says after she crouches down and touches the wound, eliciting a pained wince (and a farewell to your last shred of dignity) from you.

She rises to her feet and brushes herself off as you wait for more of a response.

"Stick, right? You want a stick?"

You nod with a clenched jaw. She keeps looking down at you and the constant anticipation is starting to piss you off.

"No, you gonna ask for what you really need?" she says. "And drop the whole ‘tough guy’ act?"

You chuckle dryly, turning your eyes to the floor.

"You ever considered that maybe I actually am just a tough guy?"

“Ha ha,” she states in monotone, “Think you gave away the fact that you're not when you started crying over a twisted ankle," to which you raise an eyebrow at her.

“Uh, okay, nothing you just said was true, but, sure. Sure.”

“Yeah? Come over here and say that with some heart then, tough guy.”

You manage to take a few steps before falling.

"Yeah, that’s what I thought. Gonna need to be carried back," Ellie says.

“What about the big ass stick?”

“What is i-Fuck. Listen, even if that helps, which it won’t, you’d wreck your ankle even more and everyone’d be on my ass about it. So, quit talking and get over here," she says, reaching over to lift you off the floor.

You grimace jokingly, but Ellie doesn’t pick on the humorous nature of your words, “Oh. No piggyback?”

Ellie sighs, turning and crouching in front of you before you get on.

"I swear to god, you're infuriating," she sneers. "Now put your arms around my neck."

You’re acting slightly outside the confines of your silent, gloomy self again, and pretend to strangle her, “Since you asked so nicely.”

And you laugh at your own joke as you properly wrap your arms around her neck

"I'm glad you're having a good time; at least one of us is enjoying ourselves,” she grits out but you can hear the repressed smile in her voice.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”

"Good. Now shut up and enjoy the ride." Ellie says before turning her gaze back to the front.

As the two of you make your way through the fairly empty paths of Jackson, Ellie remains silent, her expression unreadable.

You keep your eyes focused on her, the small puff of air that leaves her mouth with each step, and staying quiet as your chin finds itself resting casually upon her shoulder

After a few minutes of walking in silence, Ellie finally speaks up again. Her voice is so close, the warmth of her breath and heat.

“You got them girls off your ass yet?”

“Who? The ones that are trying to... befriend me?”

“Mhm, the ones that you’re kinda friends with.”

“Yeah, they quit trying.”

"Don’t blame you… I mean, I can understand, but don’t make it too obvious.”

“I’d rather not-“

“Right, it’s just- well, if you want to be alone, fine. I… can even… make sure those assholes don’t bother you, or whatever- but, not on patrol! Don’t go wandering around on your own like that ever again. It’s dumb."

“I know, I just got caught up in the moment. Sorry.”

"Good."

A heavy silence befalls the two of you as she trudges on.

"Why are you so damn heavy?" she eventually mutters.

You lift your head off her shoulder reflexively, aware of your weight pulling her down all of a sudden,

“Sorry.”

Ellie looks over her shoulder at you, her eyebrows knitted in unexpected concern,

“Hey… I was kidding.”

“Right… I knew that…”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever," she says. "Hm, look at that, we made it," gently patting your thigh before pushing the doors open. "Time to get off."

You slowly slide off her back, making sure to land on your good leg as you watch her search the area curiously in a waiting, one-footed stance.

She returns after a second, picking you up to place you on top of one of the quaint, makeshift hospital beds before she begins rummaging through the supplies. You watch her muscles flex and then, the sight of a woman you'd seen around captures your focus.

"What happened to her?" the woman asks, causing Ellie to lift her head, looking down at you.

"Twisted my ankle."

"Well, obviously," her tone is laced with sarcasm. "My question was how you twisted your ankle."

"Turned weird."

Your response earns you a bemused raise of her blonde eyebrows, "Alright, whatever," she says, pulling up a chair and sitting before you.

After a short, boring while, she lets go of your leg and looks up at you again,

"So, you got a sprain. I'm gonna have to wrap your ankle up, alright?"

A lock of her hair continuously pesters her as she begins carefully tending to your ankle, pulling fresh bandages taut around the injury.

"It's gonna stay sensitive for a few days," the woman states, "And you shouldn't walk on it for at least a week."

She places a hand upon Ellie's shoulder, pulling her out of the deep-end of her thoughts, and turning her away from you. A muffled, but aggressive, hushed conversation ensues between them as you glance around the room restlessly, only making out the irritated tone of Ellie's responses. It ends with her pinching her nose bridge and mumbling a, "Fine," and they're facing you again.

The woman gives the two of you a nod before exiting the room,

"You two be safe out there."

“Alright. I’ll take you home. Now, get on," she turns, arms out, backpack on her front, as she waits for you to get onto her back again.

The route to your place is short and quiet as night blankets the world, or what’s left of it. Before you know it, she's pushing open the door and setting you down on yet another tattered bed - your own.

You hiss at the contact your ankle makes with the bed, but Ellie seems unfazed, patting your thigh in the same way she did before, the way that made your stomach twist,

“You gonna be okay?”

You nod, though her deadpan tone doesn’t leave much room for the honest truth.

“Alright, well… I’ll get going, then.”

There’s a stark contrast in life between her coming and going; the constant rustling of the fabric of her coat and the sound of her heavy winter boots against your creaky floorboards, the sound of her sniffles and low voice, and the flurry of gusts of nippy winds whistling - all shut out with the cold of the outside once she closes the door behind her. Well, most of it.

Now, you’re left with the bite of cold air and the deafening silence that haunts you as you sit still upon your mattress with darkness cast over the room, seeming to melt everything together.

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nexility-sims · 5 months

Text

𝐍𝐎. 𝟏 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 | VARIOUS LOCATIONS, DECEMBER 1990

❧ 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 / 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

‎‎‎‎‎ ❛ The banality of human tragedy wasn’t enough for a princess. Some may have said it was an insult. The publishers, insatiable in their hunger for a story, chased answers. They would force slippery, delicate reality into the shackles of narrative. They would explain the unexplainable. Numerous leads bubbled forth in the immediate days following the event. At first, they came as a respectful trickle of whispers. Then, they came in a loud burst that could fill the amorphous space between breaking news and solemn coverage of a state funeral. Most of the claims were false: the queen had held the gaze of an owl twenty days prior; a storm had thrown and scattered stones in an ominous glyph; waterway residents had heard plaintive weeping from the water before the disappearance; a daykeeper sent a letter to the palace warning the mountains were shaking with longing; the princess was terrified of water and had diligently avoided it before this fateful outing. The latter was true.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

It wasn’t moving water that paralyzed her. She had appreciated the crashing of beach waves and the foaming, rushing flow of rivers. The waterfalls in Yaas had captivated her. The problem was still water. Placid and smooth, the expanses of lakes and ponds and swimming pools unsettled her to the core. Others saw them as gentle and inviting; these comely traits, to her, were the duplicity inherent to any natural danger.

As with many fears, this one had been formative. These bodies summoned memories of gasping and flailing—a visceral recollection of the moment in which her swimming education both began and ended. The publishers would report that she refused to bathe in tubs or put her face beneath a shower head. These details were embellishments, but they knitted together the perfect narrative to rendered the death star-crossed, inevitable, and shadowing even in the unobstructed light of day. With such winking glints of absurdity, a deluge of articles teased intrigue from something utterly ordinary.

Indeed, that was the wretched truth with which the family had to contend, even as days of newsprint consoled the public with fantasy. Once the body was recovered a few hours later, the coroner called it what her fellow passengers had assumed: an accident. People drowned in Uspana every day. Such a demise was considered divinely favored, and the context—the story that underwrote it—didn’t matter. The mountains claimed their favorites regardless of whether their lungs filled with a few inches of bathwater or deep inhales of Canarís Bay saltwater. These favorites were regular people. They were also, from time to time, royalty.

The cause was misadventure, not malevolence.

Still, when Beatriz stumbled over to the telephone on the day she received the news, she took a deep breath to steady herself and said with conviction, “Arnaut, he's finally killed her. Please come home.”

TRANSCRIPT:

[A] Boating? Seriously? [S] New yacht, too. He named it the Safyanora. Sweet, isn't it?

[A] I just can't believe he convinced you to go on it. [S] Me either.

[S] We've been giving each other space for a few weeks. [A] Is that what you call it?

[S] I should put in effort, you know? Be forgiving. [A] You do. You are. The problem is when he takes advantage of it, which is every single time.

[S] Friends will be there with us. There'll be no fighting—not the terribly unfun kind, anyway. [A] {Sighs.}

[A] And you're still not wearing the ring?

[S] For now. We'll see how I feel after this trip. [A] Uh huh.

[S] He promised a romantic getaway! Maybe that's what I need. [A] It's true. You work too much.

[S] No, you don't work enough—[A] Hold on. Someone's here.

[S] I can let you go … I do have work to do. [A] {Chuckling.}

[A] Abelina, tell Auntie hello. [AB] Hi Safy! [S] Hello, baby girl.

[A] It's bedtime story o'clock, unfortunately. [S] I'll call you when I'm home in a few days. [A] Good. I love you. Have fun. [S] I love you, too. Goodnight.

[S] {V.O.} Hi Mama. Sorry I missed you.

[S] {V.O.} We arrived in Intizara a couple days ago. There were more cameras than usual. It was disconcerting.

[S] {V.O.} Anyway, I'm calling you from the water.

[S] {V.O.} Aren't you proud of me? {Chuckles.}

[S] {V.O.} Manuel and Eita are with us.

[S] {V.O.} We're having fun, all of us.

[S] {V.O.} I needed this.

[S] {V.O.} We needed this.

[S] {V.O.} I know you don't want to hear it, but he's making an effort.

[S] {V.O.} I feel hopeful. Call me back. I love you.

[B] {V.O.} This is not a message for voicemail.

[B] {V.O.} I wish you had come to the phone just this once.

[B] {V.O.} How do I say this? It's unspeakable.

[B] {V.O.} {Sighs.}

[B] {V.O.} Arnaut, he's finally killed her.

[B] {V.O.} Please come home.

133 notes · View notes

everythingmp3 · 2 months

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⎯ ୨ 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩୧ ⎯

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

after your fathers death, you need to push through the grief very quickly to continue his work as one of the most prominent smugglers around. still, the pain of your situation makes you fall further into unhealthy habits and despair, which nobody notices, nobody except for one of your fathers old friends: Tess. she senses that something is off with you and suddenly becomes a surprisingly strong presence in your life. eventually, your feelings for her push you towards letting your guard down.

warnings: minors dni. mentions of drug use and addiction, grief/death of a loved one, smut (reader receiving)

disclaimer: this one is long. Anna Torv got me good, I couldn’t stop thinking about her in the show. I never played the game, so accuracy was not the goal here, I just wanted to write something for the Tess we see in the show! I put a lot of thought and heart into this, so I really hope I can make some Tess girlies out there happy <3 or anyone else who is in the mood for a longer fic!

wordcount: 13k

It would have been absurd to call anyone during or after the outbreak “lucky”, considering the state of the world, but you knew in your heart that your fate had definitely been of the luckier kind.

up until the outbreak, you and your father had been living as a duo for as long as you could remember. he had raised you as a single father in a small town where he´d worked as a professor, and your life had mostly been a content and peaceful one.

you´d been old enough during the day of the outbreak to understand what was happening, but not old enough to remember much of it as an adult, the memories were all hazy, one big blur of panic. all you knew was that you two had left in your car in the middle of the night, never looking back once you were on the road, until you somehow got to be two of the first people inhabiting the Boston QZ.

the first few years were anything but easy. the “schools” you went to were a joke, the structures in place were authoritative and soul crushing, everyone was traumatized and trying to cope one way or another. it was bleak, a sinister chaos, but at night when you sat around the table together, you couldn´t help but feel a sliver of gratitude, you´d both stayed alive, which was nothing short of a miracle.

for about a year post-outbreak, your father just worked whatever jobs were assigned to him, like everyone else. it was routine work, boring, dull, but it kept you two afloat. still, he got restless, a man who´d been used to hours and hours of mental stimulation and human connection, he couldn´t stay in the shadows by himself like that forever, he was itching for more.

he had an air that granted him respect, so one day he received a proposal: his first contact to the smuggling business. at first, he was hesitant, but it was too tempting in the end, so he accepted, and it worked, better than he expected. it wasn´t exactly a natural progression, his former job in academia to that one, he saw the irony, but both jobs required people skills and he always told you: 90 percent of that kind of work is mental.

everyone was so lost during those early days, that a competent man like him, a mentor, attracted others, especially younger smugglers, like moths to a flame. his responsibilities quickly became more and more serious, people kept pushing him and a few others around his age to do the important organizing, the work that required more brain, not just intimidation and brute force, so about a year into that lifestyle, he slowly but surely became one of the top dogs in the smuggling business.

he kept his private life and business separate, always. he made sure you were safe at home while he was out, but the one thing he did right from the start, was that he told you everything about what he was doing. he knew it would not help you to stay naive and innocent, not in a world like that. he also knew you were smart and bored out of your mind, so what he did, each night, was that he told you every little detail about everyone he came into contact with, every trick he'd learned, every piece of valuable information.

he trusted you, and he knew he wouldn´t be around to protect you forever, he wanted you to have valuable insight in your hands once you´d have to fend for yourself. so by the time you were 15, you knew pretty much everyone he worked with by name, their secrets, their ways of working, all of it. what he did not know, was that you also had a good amount of secrets of your own: what you did in your spare time, how you managed all those hours on your own.

as a teenager you´d started seeing various bottles of pills he was holding onto for deals laying around the apartment, and you were slick enough to take a few each time without him noticing. you were dealing with something, call it depression, PTSD, anxiety, or a mix of all three, but regardless of terminology: you were going through it and refused to burden him with it. it was far from ideal but taking sedatives helped, mostly Ambien but you weren´t too picky, they just had to be strong. you kept it in check, nobody noticed, not once.

then, when you were in your early twenties, he fell ill. it was gradual but the hard life had worn him down, his heart was giving out, and all you could do, was to try to spend the rest of his days by his side, which you did. people were devastated, everyone knew him or of him, so some of them even came by your apartment to say their goodbyes, including one of his closest allies: Tess.

you knew about all of his business partners, and Tess had been one that he really valued, spoke of very highly, always. you´d seen her around a few times and he´d told you a few stories about her, but she was a woman who kept to herself, so he was discreet, never spilling anything about her personal life.

still, she always stuck out to you among the others. even though you´d never even spoken to her, something about her seemed different to you, you could see why he´d worked with her for over a decade by that point, there was a magnetism to her that got to you. sometimes, you caught glimpses of her from afar, and wondered what it was about her, that always made you think of her for the rest of the day.

the day she came to say her goodbyes to him, you couldn´t help it: you stayed just outside of the room to listen. others had cried, been very sentimental, but she just sat there in silence for a good while with him. you swore you could hear her sniffle, but once she stepped out of the room, after you'd quickly hurried down the hall to not be caught, she looked as strong and composed as ever, giving you a small nod as she walked by, nothing more, but in her expression, you could tell she was signaling something to you, that she felt for you. something in her gaze went straight to your heart.

as his death approached, you knew you had a choice to make. either, you could take over his business, or you could watch some random person attempt to fill the spot he´d leave vacant. early on, you knew, you´d have to take over. there was no way you´d let some psychotic power hungry tyrant swoop in and pick up all the work he´d leave up for grabs.

it was not a dream of yours to become his successor in that world, but dreams were a luxury few could afford those days, and you knew your fate could have been much worse. the decision meant that you´d have to deal with the impending grief in a way that wouldn´t leave you weak and bedbound, so you made a deal with yourself: one day. once he´d die, you´d give yourself one day to fall apart, to fall as deeply into despair as possible. and then, you´d have to get to work and forget all about it.

even though a few of them had told him that they´d look out for you, you knew smugglers well enough to not trust their patience, their promises. if you´d stay inside grief stricken for weeks, they´d lose respect, they´d forget about you, someone else would catch their attention. besides, you had no interest in pity, in being handled like some precious little thing at risk of falling apart on her own. so, things played out exactly how you planned.

the day he died, you were inconsolable. it was darkness beyond imagination, loneliness unlike you´d ever felt it, your one guardian, one confidant: gone. the tears left your face swollen red, your body exhausted, so at night, you knocked yourself out really well with an extra high dose, knowing you´d have to step out the next day looking normal, respectable, hard to intimidate.

at first, there were some nerves, but the second you started talking to people, discussing plans, handling deals, you realized you could almost do all of it on auto-pilot because you´d spent years and years absorbing all of his ideas, his language and mannerisms. you were basically inhabiting his ghost as you started making it known that you were taking over, for good, and nobody seemed to question it, even though you were barely above twenty. something about you gave them the vibe of do not mess with her.

you were convincing in your new position and it helped that they were glad to cling to you, as a biological extension of his legacy. it worked, people respected you, you made sure his previous connections were properly taken over.

still, you felt absolutely horrible. deep down you were eaten up by grief, you were lonely, exhausted, but you simply couldn´t let it show, ever. your habit with the pills became much worse immediately. you used a pretty high dosage to sleep through entire evenings and nights, then you somehow got up and went out to do what you had to do, and repeated that cycle every day, not leaving yourself even one moment of just sitting around and thinking, because you knew once you´d let yourself do that: you´d break.

what you didn´t know, was that Tess had told people to report to her how you were doing.

she knew about you, she knew his death would leave you to your own devices, and at first she was convinced you´d be uninterested in taking over, but once she heard that you were doing it, she was alerted. she thought you´d fall flat on your face. a grieving daughter taking all that on? no way. but soon after, she heard back from people that you were working as if nothing had happened, and it puzzled her, that you were shouldering all of it seemingly without trouble. something in her told her: go have a look at that girl, something seems off there.

Tess remembered your kind face the day she´d seen your father for the last time, the look of something so fragile, so soft in there, it just did not mix with the things she was hearing about you the weeks after his passing.

so, about three weeks after he died, she made her way to your apartment, knocking around 8 pm. the second you opened the door, you knew of course who the intimidating looking woman in front of you was, but you just looked at her until she said “hey, could I come in for a second?”, her voice low and admittedly kind of alluring, you nodded, waving her in.

she was the first person who´d had the guts to just come over unannounced, nobody had bothered to come and check on you, which you were mostly glad about, but you couldn´t deny the fact that it felt nice to have someone there for once.

she walked into the nearest room, the kitchen, with a confidence as if the apartment was hers. you followed, watching her sit down a chair that she pulled away from the dining table, while you stood across the room, leaning against the wall. she cleared her throat, looking at you, her piercing eyes almost making you nervous then.

“okay listen. your father might have told you this, but just in case he didn´t: i don´t do bullshit. i don´t like to waste time, not mine, not other people´s, so i´m gonna get straight to the point here, okay?” you stared at her, the way she was resting her hands on her knees, leaning forward to emphasize what she was saying, her eyes unyielding.

you couldn´t help but feel a sense of admiration, her strength practically radiating off of her, you nodded, “sure go ahead”.

Tess looked at you with something disbelief, “what the fuck is going on?” she asked, quiet, stern. you were not unaffected by the tone, but you were unsure what precisely she was referring to, “what do you mean?”. she shook her head, “save the coy act with me. you know what I mean. the person you have lived with your whole life dies and then two fucking days later you´re out there taking over his business like nothing ever happened? come on. tell me what´s going on here”. you felt caught for a second but then you realized she was only suspecting, she had nothing in her hands to prove that anything was wrong with you, so you did what you did best: deny it.

“I mean… I see how that could seem a bit strange but what good would it do to just weep and mope around all day? I can´t change what happened. I don´t need to cry all day, I can work, I can function, it´s fine.” you almost believed yourself, you were a good liar, but not good enough to fool Tess, hardly anyone could lie to her without being caught. she could tell that beneath the convincing way of putting it that way, you weren´t telling the truth. it was hard to pinpoint how exactly she could tell, because your voice was no giveaway, neither was your demeanor, but something told her immediately that you were a person who knew how to hide things well, partially because she had the same talent herself.

“that sounds great on paper, really, but the way your father described you, it just doesn´t make sense, sorry, I don´t buy it.”

you were a little defensive then. “oh yeah, what did he say?” she grinned for a moment, relieved you were at least in a state that allowed you to push back.

“well, he liked to brag. he often told me how sweet you were, how you remained kind and thoughtful even during the end of the fucking world, with him doing shady business and no mother around to look after you. i recall the word “angel” being used a few times. I don´t see a girl like that being all unaffected and tough mere days after her dad´s death, not without finding some strange ways to cope. so I am concerned.”

you took in the words, almost emotional then, but keeping it together, struck by the word concern. nobody had clocked it, that you weren´t truly doing that great, but here Tess came, unwilling to just take the lie and leave you be. part of you felt relief at being seen for once, by her of all people, the one regularly described as “cold. hardass. not to go to with puppy eyes asking for forgiveness after fucking a job up”. there she was, inquiring about a stranger´s well being. still, you couldn´t get yourself to give her the answer she wanted.

“concerned? you hardly know me” you deflected, and she scoffed then, throwing her hands up, “yeah sure. you´re only the freshly orphaned daughter of a man I knew for about 15 years, why should i give a fuck, right?”. you couldn´t argue with that, realizing that she was also just trying her best to do the right thing.

“sorry, I didn´t mean it like that. it´s just, i am doing everything right. why do i have to justify that?”. you were defensive because you knew, if you allowed yourself to open up to her, it would end with you in tears, and you weren´t up for it. still, it hurt, to be offered some solace and refuse it.

she insisted, “yes but that´s exactly what strikes me as odd. now would be the moment to do it all wrong, to be weak, to mess up, yet here you are, walking those damn streets like you´re the new sheriff in town. and hey, i´ll give it to you, you´re doing a good job, but something is off, and i want to understand.”

“I am just doing what has to be done” you said, a defeated tone to it, which she didn´t love hearing. she was losing her patience, “listen to me. you should be taking a break right now. this is about the hardest thing to go through, you should not be pushing yourself the way you are, not right now, not like this”.

you were quiet, looking at her, your eyes not obviously soft but something was in there, she saw a glimpse of vulnerability, but then it escaped her again. you were stubborn, a few more moments of your wordlessness made her realize that you wouldn´t talk. Tess knew she was onto something but you wouldn´t let her in, so she leaned back and exhaled, looking up at the ceiling, her shirt lifting up a little, a glimpse of her skin, it burned in your vision for a split second.

“okay, you don´t wanna talk, that´s fine. but trust me, I know grief and I know denial. I´ve been around long enough to have seen it many times, what repression of all that shit can do to someone. so, I guess, this is my way of saying: be careful. and I might not be the one for big speeches or touchy feely shit, but I do care. so, keep that in mind if you ever need… well, help.” she got up then, straightening out her clothes, running her hands through her long slightly gray hair, looking a little worn out from the day, but still, extremely striking. she was a sight that stirred something deep inside of you, you couldn´t deny it, even while being confronted by her, you couldn´t stop feel a pull in her direction.

she walked towards the door but stopped for a moment when she was close to where you were standing, looking at you for second, a hint of a smile:

“well, i´ll give it to him, he raised no fool, that´s for sure”, you cracked a small smile too then, not rewarding her with a lot of words though, “thanks, Tess. I´ll keep all that in mind”, that was the first time you ever used her name to address her and it hit a nerve in her, like a wave of electricity running through her at the sound, but she didn´t let it show, instead she briefly patted your shoulder, saying “take care”, and left.

the second she was out on the street again, Tess realized that it was a good idea for her to leave your apartment, because the idea of you being all on your own there, spending entire nights in that dark, empty place, did not leave her cold, at all, and she had no interest in growing too emotionally involved. there was something about you that she had not expected and it was messing with her, it was making her mind spin.

whenever your dad had talked about you, she had pictured someone more like a teenager, but you were anything but that. you were a grown woman, young but clearly marked by the tough life you´d lived, someone she couldn´t just crack with one stern look. you had an air of nonchalance that was hard won; she knew you´d paid a prize to keep up a facade like that.

a pretty facade, she had to admit, you were undeniably beautiful. Tess was not one for crushes, but she knew an attractive woman when she saw one. you did not dress much differently than the other women she knew, but still, you were so different, your face had a distinct look that got to her: your eyes, your expression, the way you´d looked at her, it all stuck with her, that image of you, sitting there at the kitchen table, backlit by the setting sun: burned into her mind.

she knew there was no way around it, she´d keep thinking of you, wondering what you were actually thinking, feeling, what you did during those hours at night all on your own, how you managed to work the way you did, what you were hiding, how you managed your grief, whether you cried or not, what you were afraid of, what you did to seem as unafraid as you did.

most of her days were spent talking to people she didn´t care about one bit, often even actively resented, so sensing the potential of actually caring about a person, and even better, being challenged by their cleverness, it made it impossible for her not to wonder how she might find an excuse to talk to you again. Tess was not heartless, she might have been perceived that way, but she knew, deep down, that it was only a matter of time until she´d give up the i don´t give a fuck attitude for someone who needed her to. and something was telling her, you might be that person.

as she left your apartment, a voice inside her was telling her:

keep an eye on that girl. she might need someone one of these days, and the others don´t see it.

it was also telling her:

don´t you dare fall for your dead friend´s daughter.

the weeks leading up to that night, you´d done your best to remain numb, nothing had really gotten to you, you´d kept yourself busy or knocked out, but then, one brief visit from Tess and you were shaken up, moved, affected. within ten minutes she´d managed to reach some part of you that you´d kept shut off. something about her presence was both comforting and thrilling. you´d had crushes before, but it was different with her, the word almost too mild and cute to describe the visceral nature of it. once she left your apartment you just sat in your kitchen for about half an hour, quiet, thinking, unable to process what you were feeling.

that night you dreamed for the first time in ages. you couldn´t recall the details the next morning, but you knew it was about her, and your body was warm in your bed even though the apartment was freezing cold.

you knew you couldn´t just go to her without a reason, you had too much pride to just admit to her that you wanted more of her company, so you tried to ignore it, but the following week you thought of Tess a lot, so much so that you found yourself perking up whenever anyone around you mentioned her. then, one day, someone came up to you as you were busy dealing with something and told you she´d asked for you, for you to come to her the next morning, something about a job she was involved in.

you wondered why she would ask for you specifically, but regardless of her reasoning, you were just excited to be able to see her again without even having to initiate it. so, the next morning you made your way to the address you´d been given. you knew your way around, you knew that it was the bottom floor of this abandoned warehouse that people in your line of work often used to meet discretely.

the second you stepped inside, you saw two women you recognized, two guys, and Tess, sitting around a make shift table out of boxes, various maps and papers spread out over it. Tess locked eyes with you immediately and got up, waving you over to step aside with her for a moment, knowing you´d probably have questions.

she looked at you, a smile, “thanks for coming” you nodded, “sure no problem. so, what is this?” you asked, crossing your arms, she realized she owed you an explanation, “well. there´s something rather big we have to plan. and what I´ve been hearing from people tells me that you´re one of the brighter ones around”, a grin as she said this, “so, I thought why not ask you to join? couldn´t hurt to have your input”. you were listening, eyes on her face, and something told you that she wasn´t telling the whole truth.

part of you felt like she might be testing you, wanting to see if everyone was just cutting you some slack and exaggerating your skillset, but you were up for it, “sure, I´ll do what I can”. “alright then” she pulled you by the arm, the brief touch making you feel more than you hoped it would, but even a small squeeze from her hand did something to you. you tried to forget about it as you sat down next to her.

they quickly filled you in. getting people across city limits was nothing new, but it was gonna be about 5 people, which was a lot. the plan needed to be perfect, you needed to make sure that it was all ideal; the time of day, the routes they would take, possible quick escape routes too if trouble came their way, calculating possible run ins with law enforcement, mapping out where they usually stood guard, every detail had to be considered.

you let the others do most of the talking, only chiming in when you had a correction to make, a better suggestion, or needed to explain why certain things wouldn´t work. you observed most of the time, but the few remarks you made were precise and helpful, you could tell they were glad to have you around, even Tess, who was not easily impressed, nodded in approval multiple times when you said something. at times you could feel her looking at you from the side, even when you weren´t talking and you wondered why; was she concerned? curious? or, maybe, just maybe, did she also find you intriguing?

similarly you also found yourself staring at her kind of in awe whenever she talked, resting your face on your hand, just looking, her voice almost soothing you to a point of spacing out. you tried your best to listen to the words being said, but it wasn´t easy, with her sitting so close to you, her body somehow waking yours up after weeks up feeling dead.

before you knew it, you´d spent almost the entire day just sitting there, talking, planning, at times stepping away to drink something or stretch your limbs. by the time it got dark, you were done. as the others stood around talking for a while, you already stepped out, catching some air, leaning against the wall of the house, clearing your head for a moment before going home. after a few minutes, you saw the others leaving, waving goodbye, Tess following shortly after, making her way over to you, taking up the empty space next to you.

at first neither of you talked, both just staring ahead, tired from the day, but then she spoke up, “you were good today”, her voice lower and raspier than at the beginning of the day, getting under skin. you knew that counted as high praise from her, so you smiled, looking at her, “thanks. I guess I passed your test then, huh?” she stared at you, her eyes giving away that you´d caught her off guard with that, it amused you, so you went on “it´s fine, I get it, I wasn´t counting on any nepotism treatment”, she raised her eyebrows then, “smart AND funny, huh?” laced with obvious irony. you shook your head, looking back at the street, she smiled to herself, realizing more and more that she shouldn´t underestimate you, since you kept surprising her, but it was a challenge she was eager to accept: figuring you out.

“well, I know for a fact he couldn´t have taught you all that. I know enough smart guys whose kids can barely count to five so… it´s definitely not just a family thing”, you appreciated that, she continued, staring up at the sky, leaning her head back against the wall, “to be honest it´s kind of eerie at times, you at your age, talking like that” she admitted, you turned to her then, facing her more directly, “yeah? how so?”, she shrugged, breathing out, “I don´t know. I guess you´re so young, but already so..” you completed the sentence “jaded?”, she laughed then, the sound of it getting to you, “no, no, that´s not what I mean. it´s just, you should be.. more carefree I guess. as much as I hate dealing with stupid mistakes by youngsters, it does feel odd that you´re so fucking composed already”.

you considered it, you could tell there was genuine sympathy in there and she wasn´t wrong either, it was pretty clear you weren´t exactly out there being young and wild, “well, I guess spending most of my time only talking to and living with a middle aged man did that”.

she nodded, an understanding smile, “right. well, maybe it's time to change that sweetheart, huh?” you couldn´t tell if she was being genuine or fucking with you, you looked her, squinting your eyes, “you know I can´t exactly get in trouble, Tess. not even a little”.

she knew what you meant, “fun” for younger people those days mostly meant breaking into empty buildings, drinking or getting high there, attempting parties, but with your lifestyle, you knew run-ins with FEDRA were to be avoided at all costs, so nothing like that was on the table for you. besides, it wasn´t exactly your idea of fun, you´d rather find someone to spend time with one on one, but you weren´t gonna tell her all that, not in that moment.

she nodded, “yeah i know. still, there´s gotta be some way for you to have fun, hm?” it sounded slightly suggestive the way she said it, “sure, i´ll find a way, one day”, you kept it vague too, and she left it at that, since she saw that you were shivering from the cold, “come on, let´s go, you´re also headed down there, right?” pointing down the street you both had to take home, “yeah i am”. you followed her, walking close but not too close, wishing you could link arms, warm yourself up against her. for a second Tess almost offered you her jacket, but she realized how romantic that would´ve seemed, and let it go.

you were rarely scared, not even at night, but it did feel nice for a change, to have someone as intimidating and capable as her next to you, it felt good. she looked ahead, seemingly lost in thought, but she could tell you were looking at her from the side, and she almost felt frustrated by how nervous it made her. nothing made her blood rush anymore those days, not fear, not excitement, nothing; she was hardened, so feeling like she might actually flush from feeling you look at her almost irritated her for a moment, something so simple breaking her open, but she liked it, deep down she did.

you walked in silence for about a minute, and it was ironic that you had thought about feeling safe next to her, because out of nowhere a loud bang startled both of you. you stopped in your tracks, your minds racing: was it a gunshot? an explosion? a car crashing into something? it was too far to tell, but close enough to be alarmed. five seconds passed of you two standing there frozen, listening, before gunfire opened nearby. you could hear what sounded like a pretty large group of FEDRA assholes quickly stomping down the street, and within one second Tess had her own gun in her hand, yanking your arm with the other one, instructing with urgency “run!”, not letting go, pulling you down the street. from the look of it she had her eyes on some escape route and she did.

in that moment it became crystal clear that she had years and years of experience on you, while you were still thinking she had only needed a split second to do the right thing, to think of a way out. by the sound of it they were coming dangerously close, you could hear screaming, shots being fired, the darkness ruptured by car lights, you had very little distance between you and them, and Tess made you run faster than you´d run in ages, never letting go of your hand. she pulled you into a small alley, letting go once you reached a few metal trash cans that she immediately kicked to the side, revealing a small door that lead into the backside of the tall building it belonged to, ripping it open and pushing you inside, before following and banging the door shut behind you.

you were out of breath, trying to think. the room smelled ancient, damp and was completely dark, there was no way of seeing, but you could hear her breathing and cursing under her breath next to you. “jesus fucking christ” you said, “crack-downs usually only happen during the day what is their fucking problem??”. you were pissed, your lungs were stinging. “yeah, get used to it, lately it´s been all the fucking time” by the sound of it she was still hunched over and very out of breath, you couldn´t help but laugh then, “I take it running isn´t one of your hobbies, huh?”.

she couldn´t see, so she just guessed where you were standing and slapped in that direction, making contact with your stomach for a second, “just you wait til you´re old, see how funny this is then”. you were grinning, “old? Tess, you´re barely over 40”, she shook her head, calming down, resting against the wall then, “how about you quit the comedy and say: thank you Tess for saving me. I´m so grateful you weren´t a deer in headlights like me and dragged my ass to safety”. you mirrored her actions then, you arm hitting hers in the dark, “fuck off, you were just quick as hell”, she took it as a compliment, secretly enjoying the more familiar vibe that was suddenly in the air, “yeah I was, lucky for you”.

“so, what is this place?” you asked, “little thing I discovered back in the day. as you know this area isn´t exactly the greatest, they love targeting us here so yeah, saved my ass a few times, but it´s been a while”, “cozy.” you said, flatly, “hey, if you wanna go back out there and get your head blown off instead, be my guest” she snapped back, it was funny to you, how easy it was to rile her up.

“I think about an hour and we´ll be fine to leave. things usually die down within that time frame”, “an hour??” you exclaimed, clearly not happy. “yes, an hour. don´t act like you have anywhere else to be, I know you don´t”, “wow okay, rub it in, go ahead”, she smiled then, perhaps she´d exaggerated a little, maybe half an hour would have been fine, maybe she´d subconsciously bought herself more time with you.

“we don´t have to stand here by the way, there´s a ladder somewhere that leads to a hallway and room, go on feel around, it can´t be far”, you started searching for it in the dark, hands reaching into empty space until something would show up, “so I´ll just climb up in total darkness and crack my head open if I miss a step and fall?”, she shook her head “alright, drama queen. if anything I´ll crack my head, you´re going ahead of me, so worst case you´ll fall back onto me”, you smiled then, safe to do so because she couldn´t see, “still, not great”. you found it, “here, come”. you could feel her close behind you while stepping onto the ladder, a few steps up, you could feel her following, her hands on your back then, sending a shiver down your spine that you hoped she didn´t feel.

“go on, i got it” she reassured. it wasn´t far up, a few moments later you could feel a floor, your palms flat against it, pulling yourself up, letting out an audible groan as you tried to get up on your feet from that position, she laughed, “and you of all people had the audacity to make fun of my fitness”, “shut up” you whispered, as you could feel her standing up behind you, reaching for you to make sure you were both far away enough from the ledge, her fingers making your skin feel warmer.

“there´s a lightswitch somewhere here, wait” she slapped the stone wall in random places until a tiny lightbulb above you flickered on, your eyes adjusting for a second. once you could see again, you both realized you´d been holding onto each other´s arms pretty tightly and let go at the same time, seeing each other´s faces, a little flushed, and for a moment you just stared at each other, collecting yourselves, before she looked around, pointing down the small corridor, “come”. you followed, watching her adjust her shirt, her usual half up half down hairstyle somehow even better after it had come undone a little, you tried to snap out of it, but her physicality was drawing all of your attention in.

she pushed the door open, there was some resistance from the old wood but it was no struggle for her; Tess was strong, you knew that of course but actually seeing it like that was something you could get used to. the room was barely bigger than a broom closet but you could both sit on the floor. she slid down the wall, motioning for you to follow. you sat across from each other, knees almost touching.

“oh fuck” she grabbed your hand, you had no idea what was going on until you looked down: your knuckles were bleeding. you´d scraped them but couldn´t even remember how or where, which she took note of, the fact that your body seemed to be so numb that you didn´t even register an injury. “oh..” you said, unfazed, “hold on” Tess said, and before you could stop her she took the hem of her shirt in her hands and pretty violently ripped a part of it off, telling you to hold out your hand before quickly tying the soft fabric around, over your knuckles, the blood getting soaked up by it, “there you go”. you shook your head, “that really wasn´t necessary Tess, you fucked up your shirt for me”, she waved it off, “oh who cares, we can´t have open wounds here”. you looked down at where she´d bandaged you, a sting in your heart: how long had it been since someone had shown you care like that?

you put your head in your hands then, a sudden throbbing headache. you were usually already asleep in a drug induced haze at that hour and you knew your body was eager to shut down, but you forced yourself awake, rubbing your temples, sitting upright again.

she was observing you, quietly, just looking, “you okay there?”, “yeah yeah, just… long day, that´s all”, she nodded, slowly “right. you wanna stop lying to me any time soon, or no?”.

you met her gaze then, she held it, refusing to let it go, you shrugged “I don´t know what you want me to say, Tess”, whatever she was doing was working, you were not in a position to lie with her that close to you, that attentive, picking up on every little mannerism.

“how about you start by telling me how you´re actually doing. what you´re doing to cope. because i know it´s not fucking meditation or journaling”, a tired smile from you then, you briefly broke eye contact, thinking about how to put it, before looking back at her.

“I think the answer is so obvious that it flew over your head”, she was confused then, “how so?”, you cocked your head, “come on, Tess. in our business? what does literally everyone do to cope?”. her eyes went wide then, she shook her head, “no. I can tell you´re not on drugs, I know the look”.

“well, i don´t do it during the day…” she looked alarmed, “what the fuck are you telling me?” you felt vulnerable then, having actually put it out there. you were looking at her with pleading eyes, not wanting to say it word for word, hoping she´d catch on. she was louder then, “jesus fucking christ, what kind of drugs?” your voice was quiet, a little defensive, “well, I don´t drink and I don´t smoke. so you do the math.”

she pressed her hands together, looking at the floor for a moment, she seemed angry, “you´re hooked on pills, that's what you´re saying?”, you shrugged, “I don´t know if hooked is the word I´d use-” she interrupted, her tone hard, unforgiving “that´s exactly what someone who is hooked would say”, you threw your hands up, defeated, “right okay”.

she tried to calm down a little, “how much?”, you debated lying, but it was clear you were past that, there was no point, so you told her the average amount you took, and the shock on her face didn´t feel great. “are you fucking with me? that could knock out a horse!”, her voice echoed through the empty hall, a moment of silence after, you didn´t feel shame but something related to it, seeing her react that strongly mirrored back to you how serious your situation was. she shook her head for a while, processing, her hand on your knee then, firm as she spoke, “you´re gonna have to stop that. and I mean it. that shit could easily kill you if you don´t”. you didn´t have it in you to fight then, you just looked at her, no words were coming, “oh, so that´s fine with you, yeah?”, you got angry too then.

“hey I didn´t choose this fucking life okay? I did what I could to not go insane, and considering all the nut-jobs i´ve had to deal with, I´d say i´m not doing that bad of a job”, Tess realized then that it wouldn´t help to be accusatory, she let up a little, feeling sympathy for you as she watched you nervously fidget with your clothes.

“he had no clue, did he?” she asked, quietly, you shook your head “no, thank god. he had enough to worry about” she eyed you, something like respect mixed into the obvious concern, “you really know how to keep a secret, don´t you?” she knew it must´ve been years of that habit for it to sound as casual as it did, coming out of your mouth, and it mostly pained her to think of you as a teenager doing all that, but somehow it also impressed her: the fact that nobody ever caught on.

you didn´t smile then, but your expression became lighter, “yeah, you´re actually the only one who knows now”, that surprised her, touched her a little even, realizing that it must´ve been pretty vulnerable of you to tell her. “really?”, you nodded, “hm yeah. guess you should feel good about yourself, your intuition is still in-tact”, she almost laughed then, “right, that´s a huge consolation, that I was right about you having some fucked up secret”.

you looked at her with clear affection then, your walls had come down and she saw it, returning the look, glad she´d actually gotten somewhere with you. “well, I might have to drag you out at night, to stop all that”, you shook your head “that would not be pretty, I´d be a mess, you´d hate it”, “oh, I´d manage” she said, sounding convinced of it.

you smiled, “thank you, but no”. she got it, you were grown and had to deal with it on your own, still, she hated the idea of leaving you to your own devices. her soft spot for you had only grown softer all day; sitting next to you for hours, listening to your thoughts, your voice, the feeling of your hand as you both ran off, the feeling of you so close in that room, being trusted with something you hadn´t told anyone before. Tess was in deep, and she knew it, she tried hard to let it go, but it was a losing battle. seeing you there, your face half-lit by the weak lightbulb, your knees pulled to your chest, your eyes, tired but beautiful, it gave her the urge to reach out and touch you, make you feel better, but she kept it in, sat there stone-faced, mostly, but you saw something, it was there, her demeanor had shifted.

for few minutes you just sat there in silence, both lost in thought, resting against the walls, eyes closed. she realized that it might be a good idea to repay you for your honesty, to not let you sit alone in the uncomfortable feeling of having shared something personal, so she spoke up, “listen. I don´t usually talk about this stuff because it´s been ages and I don´t want pity or consolation, but I lost everyone I cared about during the outbreak, truly all of them, and for a good while I thought I´d never survive it. but, here I am. and I am not saying that it´s been easy, not at all, but I did survive it, so. keep that in mind when you feel like it´s all too much.”

you took in the words. it was rare, for her to speak of her past, you sensed that she might actually be trying to get closer to you, to bond, “I´m really sorry, that must´ve been awful. it probably still is. but you´re stronger than me, Tess, I can´t compare myself to you”.

she shook her head “no, I´ve just had time to polish the facade, trust me. you should´ve seen me about a decade ago, I was going through it, it was ugly”, you looked at her then, realizing that beneath her tough aura that seemed so effortless, so natural, there was also a lot of pain, a lot of hurt she´d pushed through, sensitivity she kept to herself.

it felt good, to share the feeling of being softer on the inside than either of you let on. you absentmindedly rested your head on her leg, your body clearly tired from the day, more prone to random acts of affection like that without thinking twice, you didn´t care in that moment, she didn´t either, patting your hand with hers a little, resting it there for a second.

“you´ll be fine” she declared, you locked eyes with her, “I´ll try”, her hand squeezing yours reassuringly. “trust me, I´ve seen lost causes, that´s not you”, you looked at her then, “yeah, what am I then?”, she smiled, “a salvageable cause” you laughed then, “I´ll take that”.

she was glad to see you loosening up again. it was soothing, the dark confined space, the quiet, the vibe that had settled between you and her, it felt like you were hidden from the world, like you´d been offered a brief moment of peace, without thinking you rested your head on your knees, closing your eyes for a second, Tess watched you, feeling protective over you, her hand resting on your leg that was propped up in her direction. after a while you felt her nudging you.

“I think we should be fine to go now” she said, and you tried to mask the disappointment, wishing you could stay there with her longer, which was a feeling you weren´t alone in.

she stood first and pulled you up, again, no struggle for her, her hand´s grip on yours too brief, you wished she´d have kept holding it like that. as you both stood there, face to face, a little raw from the personal discussion, something passed between you; the air was charged, both of you felt it, searching the other person´s eyes, your bodies barely an inch apart, but before it could lead anywhere, you both got scared of doing something you´d regret and looked away, acting casual, or at least trying to. you made your way down to the door, she tentatively opened it, not all the way, gauging the situation outside first, but it was all quiet, so she waved you out.

it was pitch black by then, freezing, a clear night, the full moon illuminating the streets. somehow there was a shared agreement between you and Tess, that what you´d said in that little room would stay in there, almost like a confession booth; the moment you were walking down the street, you were both your usual tough selves again.

the walk home was wordless, your house was the first you reached, and at first you just stood there, almost shy, both unsure how to say goodnight after spending the entire day together, both thinking things you wouldn´t say.

Tess broke the silence first, “so. I know you´re about as bad as me at accepting help, but I´ll say it one more time: I am here if there´s ever anything I can do for you. and maybe pick up smoking instead of.. you know” a genuine laugh from you then, “okay, good idea. and thank you. for-” you gestured around between you and her, trying to convey gratitude without specifying what exactly for, she got it, “don´t mention it, you´re by far not the worst person to be trapped in a room with” she said with a smug grin, before giving your shoulder a brief squeeze and saying goodnight. as she walked off your gaze fell down to your bandaged knuckles, and something in you told you she wouldn´t have done that for just anyone. at least you hoped so.

that night you didn´t consciously skip the drugs, her asking you to quit was not enough to kill that instinct; you simply forgot. the next morning you couldn´t even remember how you´d undressed, showered, and gotten into bed, you´d been so lost in your thoughts about Tess, that you´d somehow fallen asleep before you could reach for any self-medication.

you couldn´t help but see the irony, that she´d berated you for the habit and without knowing it actually succeeded in getting you to stop that day, not with her words, but with the deep attraction you felt to her, the way it took over your whole mind and body, no space left for worrying about anything other than when you´d see her again.

the next few days, nothing much changed. a whole week went by, then another, and nothing in particular was worse than the weeks before, but that was the issue; it was an endless cycle of living the same day. you felt like you were trapped doing the exact same things over and over, nothing to look forward to, nobody to talk to other than people you were involved with for work, it was just sleep and business and suppression of anything unpleasant you were feeling, every day, no moments of peace or laughter or joy, no light at the end of the tunnel.

one night about a month after you´d last seen Tess, except for a brief nod from across the street a few times, you couldn´t take it anymore. it was late, you were alone in your apartment and the silence was killing you, the loneliness, the same routine, all of it. you had to move and get up, so you stepped outside at 11 pm, knowing there was only one person you could go to.

you were counting on Tess still being awake at that hour. once you reached her apartment door you were nervous, the second you knocked you felt adrenaline rushing, because you realized you hadn´t even bothered to make up a lie as to why you were there. she opened the door and looked at you with a smile that said and who do we have here?.

the moment Tess laid eyes on you, she could tell you weren´t doing any better than the last time she´d seen you. the light in your eyes had dimmed even more, so she saved the jokes and the teasing, she didn´t demand an explanation, “come in”, relief washed over you as you stepped inside. you followed her down the dark hallway to the living room that was connected to an open kitchen, you took in the room and unsurprisingly it did not give much away about her; decorations were sparse, no posters on the wall, no sentimental photos, but a few candles were burning and the room seemed like a peaceful space.

“sorry, I know it´s late”, you said, slightly self-conscious, aware it might seem odd to just turn up like that, but she turned to look at you as she walked over the the kitchen, clearly unbothered, “oh no, don´t worry, I never sleep before midnight anyway”. it almost felt more humiliating, to be treated with kindness, somehow you didn´t feel deserving of it.

she saw you standing in the middle of the room, a little timid, so she gestured over to the couch emphatically, “sit.” it sounded more like an order than an invitation, which you liked, her brand of care that always had a subtle touch of dominance to it.

as you sat down, trying to position your body in a way that would look natural, she came over, bending down to hand you a glass of water, “here, drink”, her voice warm and strong.

she didn´t sit down next to you on the couch, but on the armchair next to it, you almost told her to come and join you but you knew how that would have sounded, so you drank up, set the glass down and faced her.

she had crossed her legs and was leaning her head on her hand by then, watching you, her hardened face somehow much softer in the candlelight, her eyes shimmering, her hair falling down her face in loose waves, the sight making all your unexpressed feelings for her bubble up. you tried not to just stare at her as she spoke up, “so. couldn´t sleep?”.

you shook your head, leaning back a little, exhaling shakily, looking over at her, “no. not at all”. “hmm” she waited a moment before asking “wanna tell me why?”. you knew you hadn´t come over to lie, so you nodded, “yeah. well, I stopped taking anything like three weeks ago”, she leaned forward then, “that´s good, I´m glad. did anything prompt that, or did you just stop because you wanted to?”.

she was onto something, and you felt the need to share it, “no, there was a moment. it was pretty dumb actually, one day I just fell, or collapsed I should say, out of nowhere. I know all the side effects but that one had never happened before, and I landed pretty fucking hard”. you were a little shy as you pulled up your shirt to reveal the left side of your ribs, the bruises were faded because it had been a few weeks but the outline was still very much there, faint yellow and green, the way bruises look towards the end of the healing process, the impact had spanned over multiple of your ribs.

Tess flinched for a second when she saw your skin, a mix of attraction and pain, “jesus…” she whispered, trying to suppress the urge walk over and see it up close, “I´m so sorry, that must´ve hurt like hell”, you nodded, letting your shirt down again, a little embarrassed by the story. she was clearly affected by it, her eyes giving it away, “and let me guess, you didn´t ask for help or stay in bed, did you?”, you just looked at her, wordlessly signaling that she was right of course.

she changed the way she was sitting then, relaxing her posture again, shaking her head a little, “what are we gonna do with you, hm?” a faint smile, eyeing you the way you eye someone who just fucked something up, but in a way that somehow makes you feel even more softly towards them.

you continued, nervously running your hand up and down your thigh, “Tess, it´s been awful. really, I can´t sleep anymore. I am awake all the fucking time, it´s horrible.”,

your voice tinged with a sense of hopelessness that alarmed her, she tried to frame it positively for you, “well, then it´s impressive I´d say, that you pushed through for a few weeks already. despite all that”. you considered it “right, yeah I guess. but I feel no better than before. I don´t know Tess, I´m -” your gaze was cast to the floor, you were clearly struggling to find the right words, she encouraged you, “what is it? tell me”, you looked back at her again, “it´s just… is this all there is?” you vaguely gestured around, she cocked her head, “you´ll have to be a little more specific than that, sweetheart”.

“I mean this life we´re living. of course I wasn´t naive when I was younger, it was obvious I wouldn´t get to live a dream, still, I did have hope for something. but now that I´m in it, it´s so bleak. it´s the same meaningless shit every single day, and I just can´t stomach the fact that this is gonna be my life forever. how in the world have you been doing this for so long? I don´t get it, Tess, it´s fucking killing me” your voice was different than usual, she knew your usual tone: composed, slow, unwavering, but in that moment it was flipped, you sounded panicked, and it hurt, it hurt her to see someone like you in that state, knowing how much it must´ve taken to break you down like that.

she waited for a moment, but she just couldn´t stay in her seat any longer, so she got up and sat down next to you, speaking quietly, softly, “listen. I get what you´re saying, and I won´t deny it, it gets dark times, it definitely does, but you´re in a particularly rough spot right now, and it will not be this level of awful forever. trust me, I´d know.”

you looked up at her then, adjusting your posture to face her properly. Tess was many things, but she was not a liar, so you tried your best to really absorb what she´d said, to internalize it. “okay. I do believe you” she nodded, glad you were receptive to her comfort, her gaze fell to your left hand then, a few leftover bruises from the fall were also visible there. instinctively, without thinking twice, she reached out, her fingers ever so lightly running over the discolored skin, the sudden tenderness almost made you cry, she kept looking at your hand, kept holding it, “why didn´t you come to me earlier?” a genuine question.

you were so focused on how good it felt to be touched by her that it took you a second to answer, “I don´t know. what could you have done?”, she almost laughed then, “use your imagination, the things anyone with half a heart would do for an injured person: be nice, make some tea, maybe if I was feeling really crazy even offer a hug” you smiled then, “right. that does sound good”, “yeah, too bad you´re so strict with that suffering in silence vow you took”, you regained some humor then, “well if I wasn´t, I might have shown up here like this many times already so. careful what you wish for” she grinned then, “and you think I would´ve found that horrible, yeah?” you shrugged, “I don´t know, you tell me”.

she shook her head, amused by your refusal to see that she would pretty much drop anything to help you at any given time, “I don´t do charity, sweetie. when I say I´m here for someone, I mean it” you squeezed her hand then, realizing she´d been holding onto yours for the past minute or so. you were both looking at each other, feeling each other´s leg because you were sitting so close, faces not far apart, not at all, and something shifted in a split second. it had been a while since either of you had been with someone, but in that moment it was like your bodies were simultaneously remembering what desire feels like, more intensely than ever before, and you both saw it in the other person, mirrored back.

Tess was the first to move, she put her hand to your cheek, her thumb almost brushing over your lips, her gaze wandering over every part of your face, your breathing heavier instantly, you looked at her with pleading eyes, but she had given you that physical cue to make the decision yours. you saw her waiting, hoping, and gave in, hand on the side of her face, fingers in her hair, pulling her in for a kiss, harder than you intended, impatient, your lips warm against hers, your body immediately leaning in as close as possible, it took Tess one second to react, but the moment she felt you kissing her with that deep eagerness, it hit her: oh. this girl really wants me.

so she grabbed you with both hands and deepened the kiss, letting you climb onto her, holding you in place as you both abandoned restraint and hungrily kissed each other over and over until you felt your tongue against hers and slowed it down a little to savor it, softly moaning into her mouth, hearing her sounds mix with yours, turning each other on even more, her hands going lower and lower on your body, stopping at your waist, your back, her grip on you almost as arousing as the kiss, your whole body melting into her touch, the tension thick and heavy, your bodies almost overheating. your movements were desperate, your sounds too, everything about it was, it truly seemed like no amount of closeness was close enough, like you were so starved you might actually devour each other.

she could feel you pushing up against her while you kissed, and as you both caught your breaths for a moment, she could tell you needed more from her, it was not the time for anything that would take too long, not in that moment, but she knew she could help you relax, release some tension, and as if you could read her mind she could hear you begging “please Tess”, your face close to hers, a shiver as she heard the neediness in your voice, luckily clothes were pretty loose, no need to fumble with a zipper or undress, she had no trouble just slipping her hand under the fabric, down to your underwear, she could hear you take a sharp breath in.

“I got you” she reassured, “let me make you feel good, okay?”, you leaned back into the couch as she pushed you back with one arm and moved herself to an angle that would work, your legs apart then, her hand grazing your cunt through the soaked fabric.

she breathed even heavier then, feeling the effect she had on you, her fingers cold against the heat of your core, the contrast making you dizzy for a moment, shaking slightly, already sighing just from that, she cooed at you “it´s okay” as her fingers made direct contact with your cunt, her fingers sliding between your aroused lips, a moan almost leaving her as she felt your juices covering her skin, slick with it within one second, hearing you whine a little as she moved her fingers up and down, not even thinking about your pleasure for a second but her own, the thrill of having a pretty girl claim her in that sense, covering her in wetness, already fantasizing about getting her whole face up in it, tasting you.

the thought pushed her to add more pressure to her movements, the passion taking her over, fully, moving her fingers to your clit then, sensing it was the right thing because you were louder then, shaking almost, clinging to her, “fuck…don´t stop, please” tumbled out of your mouth as she drew circles over the sensitive spot, she felt your hips pushing upwards, her eyes back on your face then, watching you come undone, her chest swelling with the pleasure of knowing it was her doing: your eyes shut, your lips parted. “you´re so fucking pretty” she whispered while feeling your cunt practically dripping onto her hand, the words pushing you towards your orgasm even faster, she could tell you were close, so she leaned down a little, facing you, pinning you to the couch as she kept teasing your clit.

the thing that got you more turned on than you ever remembered being, was the her movements were not erratic or too fast, but secure and skilled, hard but not aggressive, a slow sensuality to it that was so powerful that you whole body burned with the sensation, “fuck, I´m-” you couldn´t even from the whole sentence but she knew what you were trying to say, “just let go sweetie, cum for me”, encouraging you to cum against her hand, which you did, a violent shudder going through you as you arched up against her hand one last time, and what killed you then was the even as you came down from the climax, she was still watching you, still touching you, so drunk on the feeling of your cum all over her fingers that she just couldn´t let go before you were truly finished.

you slumped back against the couch as she got up from on top of you and sat down next to you, also a little spent, leaning back. once you were coherent again, you looked over at her, exhausted but face glowing, she turned to face you, pleased to see you smile, “god that felt good..” you said, still high on endorphins, resting your hand on her leg, she laced her fingers between yours, “yeah. it did”, making sure you knew that got just as much out of it.

“did you call me pretty or did I imagine that?” you asked, smiling at her, she grinned, realizing that you were the type to really crave praise but not ask for it explicitly, “I´ll say it again, you´re very pretty”, her voice low and sultry, a satisfied look to you. she just said what she was thinking before she could change her mind, “do you wanna stay here tonight? you can sleep over if you want, it´s late” you sat upright then, moving over to her side of the couch, getting up in her space again, hand on her chest, “yeah I´d like that”, an enthusiasm to your expression that made her happy, “okay good. we´ll have to share a blanket though” she said, you laughed then, “I can handle that I think”.

you´d already showered and changed into comfortable clothes before you came over, so she told you to just get comfortable on whatever side of the bed you wanted, while she´d go freshen up. her bedroom was similar to her living room, minimal decor, but comfortable, warm, a few of her clothes over a chair in the corner, a wooden bedside table with a few books, a small lamp, a lighter, a candle, the bedspread a soft creme color, the window half concealed by dark curtains. it somehow smelled like her, slightly fresh, slightly woody, a hint of musk in there too. at first you didn´t even want to touch anything, feeling like a kind of intruder, but the second you sat down on the right side of the bed it was too soft and relaxing not to give in and get comfortable.

you were leaned against the headboard, still high on the feeling of her all over you, taking the room in, stretching your legs out, your hands running over the fabric of the sheets.

a few minutes later Tess she came into the room, her hair slightly damp, face fresh and glowing, dressed in a t-shirt and underwear. you were glad to see that she was already fine with you seeing her like that, even though you hadn´t seen her naked yet.

your gaze wandered to her strong thighs as she walked over to her wardrobe and got out a pair of sweatpants, she smiled to herself, feeling your attention even though she had her back turned to you, “you´re staring” she said, her voice giving away that she enjoyed it, “I know” you responded, which made her laugh and turn around to look at you.

you didn´t even bother to pretend, you were still clearly checking her out as she got dressed, “I think I deserve something in return for that” she said as she walked over to her side of the bed and got onto the covers with you, eyeing you from the side, “yeah like what?”, she smiled, pulling you closer in one swift motion, her hand finding the bare skin of your thighs under the fabric, squeezing a little, just taking in the feeling of your soft skin, you were face to face, and your grin gave away that she could do pretty much whatever she wanted to you, “if you want me to undress I can do that you know”, you teased, she shook her head, “no, this is good, I like having something to look forward to”, that was the charming way of putting it, Tess also could´ve said we can´t fuck right now because we´re both tired and I´ll need the first time of getting a taste of you to last as long as possible.

you blushed a little then, your hand in her hair, taking in the sight of her outside of her usual guarded physicality, all sweet and affectionate, relaxed, hand under her shirt, on her back, it was surprising to you, that nothing you did, no amount of touching her, seemed to be too much at all, even though she was not a hugger, not a person for handshakes even, so it made you feel free in your greediness for her.

you spent a short while just laying there, half entwined, the sleepiness adding to the slow tenderness of the moment, she seemed mesmerized as her hand wandered further up your body, pushing your shirt up a little to trace your side with her fingers, you leaned in to kiss her, pulling her closer by the neck, Tess pulling your lower side close hers with the grip she had on your waist. you were dizzy from the warm sensation of her lips, her skin, your leg over hers, the way she immediately kissed you back with a need she couldn´t hide, eliciting a few low sounds of pleasure from you, you only parted once you both needed air, “come on” she said, she motioned for you to get under the covers with her, the room a little too cold to stay like that for long.

the moment you were under the blanket a shyness returned, the intimacy of truly being in bed with her like that suddenly making you hesitant to move, which she saw, and it amused her, that this girl who had no issue firing a gun, beating people up if needed, dealing godless amounts of drugs, suddenly seemed unable to just take up the personal space of a woman who was very clearly into her. the contrast charmed her, made her realize that she had a good amount of power over you but the good kind, the kind that allowed her to make you feel safe, free to show your more vulnerable self for once.

she smiled at you, “so, you wanna stay on your side or?...”

you realized she was teasing a little, sensing your apprehension, it made you remember there was no need to be hesitant at all, so you shook your head, smiling back at her, “well come here then”. she opened her arms, gesturing for you to lay down on her however you wanted, which you did. you moved over and it felt so natural, to just lay your head on her chest and rest your arm on her stomach, everything about it felt like you´d done it before, the way Tess´s hand immediately found its way to your hair, running her fingers through it, softly, the repeated rhythm of it immediately putting you at ease, the feeling of your face against her chest reminding her how much she´d craved it all along, to feel useful, needed, to feel like her presence was actually making a difference to someone who deserved it.

“that feels nice” you whispered, your voice sleepy at that point, your body slack against hers, she ruffled your hair a little, feeling you lean into her hand, moving it down to caress your cheek, both of you slowly dozing off, so she reached over and switched off the small light that was still on, letting you stay on top of her, soothed by your weight on top of her. usually she had a hard time falling asleep, but it was impossible to stay awake any longer, you were both too comfortable.

when you woke up a few hours later in the dead of night, you realized that you´d moved over to your own side in your sleep, and when you realized that you were too awake to drift off again, you rolled over to watch Tess, who was sort of facing you in her sleep. she looked graceful, her mouth was closed, her cheeks were a little flushed, her hair spread out over the pillow, you just laid there admiring her.

she stirred a few moments later but you couldn´t be bothered to turn away and pretend you weren´t looking, so when she opened her eyes a little, you heard her say in a raspy quiet voice “are you watching me sleep?”, you smiled, “maybe”, she shook her head a little, clearly still half asleep, you added “you´re a pretty sleeper”, a sly grin on your face, “you don´t have to suck up to me, I already like you”, Tess uttered, witty even while she wasn´t fully conscious, you protested, “I mean it”, she had her eyes closed but spoke again, “that´s very charming but you should sleep instead”, “I tried” you said.

the liminal quality of that moment, the almost dreamlike air, made it easy for Tess to have no issue doing what she did next: she tapped you on the side of your body that was facing her “turn around”, telling you to get on your side and face away from her, “let´s try this”, she said, pulling you closer by wrapping her arm around you and getting into a big spoon type position, her chest pressed against your back then, her arm around your waist, and she was right to guess that it would help, her warmth immediately made your eyes feel heavy again, the sensation too good not to just melt into and lose yourself in. you put your hand over hers, and within about ten minutes you were both sound asleep again.

the next morning, it took you a moment to come to your senses and realize where you were, but the second you did, an unfamiliar thing happened: you were flooded with joy instead of dread. usually mornings were your least favorite part of the day, the things you had to do looming ahead of you, but as you saw the sun coming into Tess´s room, you felt at peace, content. the space next to you was empty and you could hear Tess moving around in the kitchen, so you got up, went to the bathroom to splash some water on your face, and walked to the kitchen. since you weren´t wearing shoes she didn´t hear you come in, so you just stood there watching her from across the room, smiling, until she turned around, “well, hello there” she said, unable to hide the obvious pure joy she felt at seeing you.

it had been a long time since Tess had dated or even hooked up with anyone, let alone let someone stay over, so every little detail of being with you gave her a rush, the sight of you leaning against the wall with your face still a little scrunched up from sleep was enough to make her feel warm all over, so she was almost scared of what it would feel like once you´d actually do something explicitly romantic for her. somehow you both knew it without saying, that you were about to spend a lot of time together, that you were both in need of much more than just one night. Tess wasn´t thinking as far as being your girlfriend yet, but part of her hoped, part of her did love the idea of finally being devoted to someone the way she always wanted to be.

she waved you over to where she was standing, setting a cup of coffee down on the counter, “perfect timing, I just got done with this” she put down some sugar too in case you wanted it. you approached her, almost a little shy, knowing she was seeing you in a rather personal light then, having barely been awake for more than five minutes, but she was clearly enamored by it. you gratefully took the cup and warmed your hands against it, taking a sip, leaning against over counter, looking at her, feeling her gaze on you the entire time. it was almost too good to be true, normally your entire day was spent in a haze where nobody could reach you, and there she was, disrupting it, again and again, making you come back to life just by being there.

“you could have woken me up, you know” you said, but she just shook her head, “no fucking way, I was glad you were sleeping so well” a grin that gave away she knew it was partly thanks to her, you nodded, your face muscles almost hurting from having been frozen in a permanent smile for the past few minutes, “yeah I do feel much better than yesterday. I wonder why that is” you said while taking her hand.

she tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, eyeing you, “is there anything you need to do today?” she asked, praying the answer was no, you shook your head, “no, nothing until Monday. you?” hoping for the same answer, she thought for a moment “well, nothing I couldn´t put off for a day or two” a faint smile, you got up then, walking over to her, putting your arms around her neck,“put it off then” you said, before leaning in to tenderly kiss her cheek, her neck, whispering against her skin “please stay here Tess. please”, your voice dripping with sweetness, her breathing changed as she felt you all over her skin, she thought of course this girl is clever enough to know what begging does to me, her hands on your back then, under your shirt, “okay, I´m not going anywhere” she said, and of course she wouldn´t, she already knew that before your act of persuasion, but she liked seeing you try to convince her.

“I think we should go back to bed” you declared, staring at her, a boldness that came out of nowhere but felt exactly right, she grinned, her hands on your waist, pulling you close, “you think so, yeah?”, you just looked at her, words were unnecessary, your hunger for her apparent in your gaze, Tess felt her face growing hot. it was one thing that you´d wanted her when you were weak and exhausted and needed comfort, it was another that you also wanted her when you were well rested and fine and could´ve thought of other things to start your day with, but apparently still only had her on your mind. “let´s get you out of these then, hm” she said, tugging at your clothes, your eyes sparkling up at her before she took your hand and lead you back to her room.

as she pulled off your shirt and started kissing your chest, you had that same feeling again that you´d had years ago: despite all the pain, the darkness that had seeped into your life at times, you knew in that moment how lucky you were that someone like Tess had paid attention to you in exact right moment, that she did not just help you, but made you come alive again.

finally, you found yourself not wanting to escape your body anymore, finally you were happy to be fully present, trying your best to soak up every little detail, the feeling of the sun spilling in, of being undressed by Tess, being admired, held by her.

it seemed like divine intervention to you, that Tess had come into your life right when you needed her the most.

#tess servopoulos #tess servopoulos x reader #the last of us x reader #tlou #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #anna torv #I’m thinking about also writing some shorter/smuttier stuff for her bc I have a few ideas for that #but for now heres this

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