#especially for a first attempt at Jess

[theurgists]

⋆｡‧₊°♱༺ THE INEVITABLE PULL ༻♱༉‧₊˚.

ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: on the night of her twenty-first birthday, ellie find herself in the one place she asked jesse not to bring her. a strip club.

warning(s): 18+ smut, modern!au, stripper!reader, mentions of alcohol, alcohol consumption, dudes in clubs being jackasses, jesse being a wingman ( thank you bestie ), dry humping ( a little?? ), fingering ( reader!receiving ),oral ( elle!receiving ), a one night stand, essentially. not proof-read!

a/n: yet another one-shot i'm bringing back. i do have a little 90s ellie drabble in my drafts that I'm working on so definitely let me know if you'd like to see that ;)

You know that feeling you get when you walk into a place you don’t want to be in? A feeling so uncomfortable that it makes you involuntarily bounce back and forth from the heels of your feet to the tips of your toes, eyes darting from left to right trying to observe the situation you were faced with. 

Ellie was unfortunate enough to be experiencing it tonight as the blood in her veins thumped into the base of her eardrums, her hands in the small pockets of the denim jeans she wore as her shoulders hunched with uncertainty. The air smelt like immeasurable amounts of liquor and what Jesse described as ‘fun times’. 

He had coaxed her out of her apartment and off of the confines of her couch on the eve of her twenty-first birthday, a smile on his face as he landed a pat with an open palm on the back of her right shoulder which rattled her, a grimace curling onto the skin of her lips. Playing the scenario back in her mind now, it seemed as if he considered her feelings which didn’t end up being the case. Sometimes, Ellie would find herself filled with slight guilt for even having the thought of her friend being faintly ignorant — but it oozed out of him as he weaved his way through the teeming club. She was barely one for small parties, preferring to linger in the corners away from unseen eyes, processing what was laid before her in the form of passing bodies. 

Finding herself experiencing how it felt to be somewhere more open — more suffocated — made her stomach tie in the tightest of knots. 

Blowing a puff of air out of her throat, Ellie felt annoyance creeping up within her as the bone of her shoulder collided with someone else’s.

“Watch where the fuck you’re going.”

Through the tumultuous beat of hip-hop music, those seven gruff words reached the canal of her ears causing the soles of her shoes to squelch on the scuffed polish of the club floor as she turned around. Deep lines formed between her eyebrows as she scowled, her fingers curling into the palm of her hand, teeth gritting together.

“The fuck?”

Ellie didn’t know whether to consider it a blessing or a curse that no matter the situation, her mouth couldn’t just stay closed even with multiple attempted efforts. It worked out for her in less violent ways fifty percent of the time. Whereas, the other fifty percent caused adrenaline to pump in her veins so quickly that her body would shake slightly, growing numb as if to prepare for whatever damage would arise. 

People tended to underestimate how much damage swirled around her balled fists due to her average stature and the fact that she was a girl. She knew better than to let things progress further, not only for the sake of not wanting to deal with it on her birthday but for the poor patron who’d most likely end up losing if he decided to take the unknown risk of a fistfight. Especially with her. 

“You fuckin’ heard me.” The man towered over her, dark eyes riddled with drunkenness and a bubbling fury as she looked up at him through low eyelids, a smirk appearing at the corners of her mouth. 

Through her peripheral vision, she could see the stares of other club-goers as they observed the altercation with interest, curious to see who would throw the first punch. It would’ve been Ellie. Seriously, she was so close to cocking her fist back just to swing it into his aging face but Jesse had a knack for knowing when his friend got into trouble because he appeared next to her before she could blink, fingers grabbing at the back of the plaid button-down she wore, trying to de-escalate the painstakingly icky tension as those who were unaware continued with their night.

“Woah.” He dragged out in an airy laugh, snaking himself in front of Ellie in case things went south. “No problems here, right?” 

Not trusting herself enough to not utter a single word, Ellie turned and let her feet carry her straight to the bar at the far left corner, jaw tight as she found an empty spot to slide herself into in hopes of getting herself a drink as it had just reached one in the morning. If she had the option to restart the first hour of her birthday somewhere else, she could, but beggars can’t be choosers — and Ellie was far from being a beggar. 

Locking her eyes onto her choice of liquor, she let the music creep back in her ears once more as her eyes clouded over, scanning the crevices of her brain for the pros and cons of having a couple of shots throughout the night, or just getting a glass straight-up. 

Clearing his throat, Jessie weaseled his way next to her before grabbing the bartender’s attention, his pearly white teething glistening under the neon lights that shone through the darkness, eyes shamelessly roaming across her body as she bit her lip flirtatiously. 

Ellie couldn’t roll her eyes, itching to have a drink in her grasp to ease the small jolt of nerves that would pinch her every couple of seconds. 

“Can I get angel’s envy on the rocks?” She asked, avoiding looking at the lady behind the bar as she nodded curtly.

 “Sure thing, honey.” Turning to Jesse, her back arched slightly as a means to pop her chest in his face a little more. The only thing that was stopping her from leaning closer was the countertop between them as she spoke lowly. 

“And for you, baby?” She drawled, voice slow. She already had a couple of drinks, which was evident through her shameless attempt at flirting which the dark-haired man seemed to be into for some reason. 

His lips quirked up, arms crossed over each other as he went to rest them on the bartop, eyes boring right into her soul.

“Same thing.” 

Ellie took the opportunity to observe her surroundings even further. Eyes moved from the people sitting in small round booths and velvet chairs to the stage that sat front and center, one of the main reasons why she had been brought here tonight. A pole stood upright under the bright white lights, metal practically sparkling, blinding her as if to make its presence more known to her than it already was. 

In life, there were a lot of firsts and Ellie had gladly experienced them with pride, diving headfirst. However, this was a completely different ball game that filled her with a small enough amount of discomfort that caused her to scratch at the nape of her neck. 

“Y’know, the least you could do is say thank you for having me deal with your shit.” Jesse chuckled jokingly, fingers jutting outward to slide the glass toward her which she took without a second thought. 

Although Ellie could sense the humor in his voice, the bitterness she felt seemed to overpower her brain before she could correctly process her words. “The least? You could’ve been a little more considerate when you decided on where to take me on my birthday.” 

She leaned closer to him, having to raise her voice to be heard through the music. “A fucking strip club. Really?” 

Raising his glass, he just smiled smugly at her which caused her eyes to roll to the back of her head for the second time that night before he clanked it with hers in a toast. “To being twenty-one.” Tilting the chilled cup toward his mouth, he downed his whiskey in one go before shaking his head to rid of the burning in his throat. Ellie followed right after, letting her eyes screwed shut as heat ran into the pit of her stomach.

“God that was fucking awful.” 

All Ellie got in response was Jesse’s arm over her shoulder as he stood on the tips of his toes, neck craning over heads as if he was looking for something in particular. Before she could ask, his eyes lit up, her body moving forcefully as he dragged her away from the bar and in the direction of a booth that was mostly empty beside three other people occupying a small section of space. Jesse’s friends. 

Truthfully, this night seemed to be getting worse as she watched Jesse slide himself in before moving in his seat, the leather squeaking as it rubbed against his clothes. Ellie licked her lips, tasting a hint of the shea butter chapstick she had applied to them earlier in the night, body growing rigid as one of his friends stared at her with wavering uninterest. 

“Who are you again? He slurred, lazily pointing a finger in her direction, swaying in his seat slightly. 

Ellie’s reply was simple and cold. “Ellie.” 

Jesse slapped him on the back, sending his torso to push forward and some of his liquor to fall out of his shot glass and onto the table in front of them. “Seth shut the fuck up.” 

Seth opened his mouth, lips in the shape of an ‘o’ before his face contorted into one of amusement, “Oh” He chuckled.

If Ellie was being honest with herself, she didn’t remember his name either. Jesse’s friends weren’t people she would necessarily surround herself with if she was looking for company. On occasion, she’d stop at Dean’s house ( the name of the only one she bothered to remember, only because he treated her like he would any of his other guy friends ) with him only because she got to smoke for free, and she’d never pass up free weed. 

Moving to sit, Ellie lowered herself before breathing in through her nose, the lighting dimming above her almost instantly as the song that was playing came to a pause before another one followed behind. 

Confusion grew on her features as the sharp clank of heels could be heard from where she was, just a couple of feet away, in the third row of seats right smack in the middle. She didn’t know what to expect. It wasn’t as if she was well-versed in the club universe because she hadn’t been in one before tonight.

She heard Dean hiss behind his teeth before whistling loudly, “Damn.” 

Averting her gaze toward center stage, she could feel her cheeks warm as she stared at you. Your hair fell down your shoulders in loose waves, your bottom lip tugged between your teeth before you smiled warmly, red nails gliding up and down your hips before you swayed them side to side seductively, moving to the rhythm of the music. Hoots and hollers filled the expanse of space, bouncing off the walls and directly into her ears. 

“Fuck, she’s hot.” 

Ellie was thankful for the darkness that enveloped the room as the crimson flush on her cheeks darkened in color even further. She shuffled back into her seat, keeping her gaze locked on your body as you spun around the pole, the string of your black thong hiking up your hip just a little higher, something she swore only she noticed. 

With her gaze boring into your frame, she watched as you swung one leg over the other, spinning on your heels before lifting yourself off the stage using the pole, your grip tightening as your feet moved in place. 

This feeling in between her legs, the ache she got from just seeing you was otherworldly, she felt wrong about it. She didn’t even know you ( as badly as she wanted to now ) to be feeling the way she did. The butterflies in the pit of her stomach fluttered so aggressively that they felt as if they were crawling out her throat as her breath hitched. 

When the money appeared, adorning you as if it was rain falling, she melted into the leather of the booth. Her eyes widened before a cough emitted from her throat, her heart picking up its pace as your eyes darted across the crowd and she swore you were staring at her as you crawled on all fours in front of the stage. 

So, the only natural thing for her to do was stare right back at you, keeping her gaze locked on your low-lidded eyes before letting someone lift the band of your thong to place a wad of cash, their fingers lingering on your bare hip for longer than necessary before you gracefully danced away. 

You were a goddess, clad in her most seductive armor that nobody could lay a finger on. Ellie could tell by the way you carried yourself, head held high and body swinging low as cash surrounded you. As awkward as she felt, she sure hoped she didn’t look the part because your eyes were still on her. 

A small smack to her arm caused her to twist her head in Jesse’s direction, a frown on her face as she tried to stare at him through the darkness. “You seem to be enjoying yourself.” 

His eyebrows raised in amusement, lips pressed together to keep himself from laughing aloud. “It’s okay you know, to stare, that’s why we’re here.” 

Putting the palms of his hands out, he gestured around him as if to prove a point. 

Ellie tutted before she grabbed a loose strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear, grabbing at the new drink that miraculously appeared ( he must’ve grabbed it off of one of the guys ) before gulping the rest of its contents down, lips puckering as her lungs developed a burn that only Hennesey could give her. 

“This is the last time I’m letting you drag me anywhere without telling me first.” She huffed, blowing out a breath that caused her cheeks to ache slightly. She averted her gaze to you again, this time watching as you left the stage, signaling the end of your set as people cheered and whistled. 

“That was something, I’ll tell you that.” She heard Dean say, his hands traveling down to his pants to try and conceal the very noticeable boner that had tented. 

Ellie pulled her lips back in a snarl, teeth out in the open as an uncomfortable expression reached her features, skin near the corners of her eyes creasing as she narrowed them in his direction. Men were fucking gross — and the way he sat there, licking his lips hungrily as if he’s made up his mind to go after you tonight  — only furthered that thought into the front of her mind. 

The leather seat dipped slightly when Jesse took the initiative to scoot himself closer to her, leaning down to yell, “Was I right?”

Ellie glanced at him through low eyes as the scent of weed hit her nose, merely shrugging in response before lifting herself and pulling down the ends of her shirt, the cotton material having ridden up. 

Se suddenly found herself staring at the bar a couple of feet away from her, coincidentally landing her green eyes on the dip of your back, the bands on your thong littered with cash still. You looked fucking amazing. Your hair was now bunched up in your right hand as you fanned your neck with the left one, your crimson-painted lips moving quickly as you spoke to the bartender she felt herself loathing after their earlier interaction. If you could even call it that. 

A high-pitched whistle beside her pulled her out of whatever thoughts consumed the spaces of her mind. It was none other than her friend, moving his head to stare at who she’d been eyeing. Finally, he saw you in the crowd of people squished at the bartop, and then his brown eyes moved toward Ellie’s face. He knew she wasn’t going to approach you willingly, even if the desperation to speak to you was written across her face in big, bold, lettering. So, he decided to be the devil — or the angel — on her shoulder. 

“Go talk to her, make a move.” 

Ellie wanted to laugh. The urge bubbled up in her throat like bile, and she let it go. Giving him the most genuine chuckle she’s given him all night, shaking her head from side to side. “I doubt she’s into girls.” 

For some reason, considering that as an option made her mood dampen slightly. Anyone here could see the confidence that exuded from you, it lingered in your sweet perfume when you’d pass by people and she was pretty sure she was falling victim to it.

Shrugging, Jesse let his lips pull into a frown, urging her further. “You don’t know that.” 

That was true, she thought as she shamelessly stared you down, her sweaty palms at her sides as she tried to inconspicuously wipe them on the denim of her jeans. Relenting, she felt her heart quicken as her feet carried her toward where you were standing under the neon lights of the bar. 

You looked even prettier up close, your unique features burning into the part of her brain where long-term memory was, trying to soak you in before you noticed she was there. 

“Did you enjoy the show?” Ellie was a goner. Your voice was sweet and sultry, low with a hint of fatigue weaved in between them as you kept your eyes down, your nails tapping against the glass in front of you. 

Ellie cleared the blockage in her throat before answering. “Uh yeah, it was nice.” 

Licking your lips, you still kept your head low but she could see you staring at her from the corner of your eyes. “You were staring.” 

So you did notice her looking at you, which meant that you were indeed looking at her as you danced flawlessly on stage. At least she wasn’t going crazy. 

Feeling the heat rise in her cheeks for what was the tenth time, she stuttered, trying to look anywhere, the confidence she once had evaporating as your light laughter reached her ears. “Everyone was staring.” She managed to spit, biting the inside of her cheek. 

“I wasn’t looking at everyone else though…” 

This made her smile, slightly bashful that you had said those words to her. Maybe you were just naturally a flirt, seeking thrills on sweet-talking club-goers only to leave them wanting more once you left. Oddly, she decided to entertain you by twisting her neck in your direction, the tattoo on her arm taking all the attention as your eyes burned into the skin peeking from under her jacket. 

You continued, “You stick out like a sore thumb, but it’s okay. I like seeing new faces.” Sliding your glass in her direction, you watched with curiosity as she picked it up, swirling the contents in the glass, ice cubes clinking against each other before she let the rest of it slide down her throat. 

Ellie wasn’t a big drinker and she was sure she’d feel the consequences of her choice in the morning, but being next to you — talking to you, was worth whatever hangover would greet her in the morning. 

Pushing for a conversation, you asked her a question. “So, did your friends drag you here or something.” 

Unbeknownst to you, that was exactly the case which she confirmed by nodding. A dry laugh came from her mouth, causing her to cringe at just how fake it sounded but you didn’t seem to mind. “Uh, yeah, that’s exactly it.” 

You turned your body toward her fully, lifting at the strap of your lacey bra, your breasts moving upward just an inch but it didn’t go unnoticed by Ellie as her eyes landed on your chest for a fraction of a second before she was looking at your face again. 

‘How’d you know.” 

“You look uncomfortable. This isn’t your thing?” 

With that question in mind, Ellie felt the vibration of the music in the soles of her sneaker-clad feet, so loud that her body hummed along with the music, the smell of weed burning the hairs in her nostrils as giggles bounced into her ears. “Not really, it’s my birthday so my friend brought me.” 

Your eyes lit up, pearly white teeth contrasting against the dark tint of your lipstick. “Happy Birthday to you then,” 

Ellie moved her mouth to reply with a small ‘thank you’ but the bartender appeared in front of the both of you before you asked her for a shot which she gave you quicker than she had taken Ellie’s drink order. She watched as you slid it in her direction like previously, a smirk decorating your lips as she made eye contact with you, putting the rim of the shot glass between her lips and letting it snake down her throat, the sensation of the burn causing a sharp intake of breath. 

Goosebumps littered your exposed skin as you felt a sudden dull ache grow between your legs. The tension was bouncing between you, deflecting off of the invisible barrier that loitered, cracking just a tad before you backed away. “I have to go now, but it was nice talking to you…”

“Ellie.” 

Giving her one last smile, you nodded. “I hope I’ll see you around soon.” 

She waved with a hand, lips pursed as you turned on your heels and disappeared behind a metal door labeled ‘staff only’.

Usually, every girl Ellie’s ever had an interaction with ended up with her itching to move away from the situation she dragged herself into, jaw tight and teeth grinding together. It was different this time, probably because it was you. The fact that she had no clue what your name was, intrigued her beyond the point of no return. She found herself stuck on you despite having a conversation that lasted all but five minutes — which felt like thirty seconds. 

Sighing, she made her way back to Jesse and his extremely drunk friends. Dean and Seth were shoving each other like fucking five-year-olds bickering over something stupid, their faces inches apart that Ellie felt like she was intruding on a private matter. 

Sitting down again, Ellie let herself endure the two hours in silence next to Jesse as the night wasted away, more drinks being spilled, annoyance growing. She didn’t know how long she was glued to that seat when she made her way outside the double doors, breathing in the fresh air that she took for granted, sighing as she ran a hand through her short auburn hair, the rings on her fingers clattering together as she did so.

 At this point, it was just nearly three in the morning. The dim street lights illuminated the empty street, the leaves on tree branches swaying with the wind in the direction it whipped in. An occasional leaf swayed to the ground as she sat on the curb, the skin of her palms peeling from the roughness of the concrete. 

“I’m fucking serious, Willow.” Moving her head in the direction of the voice, her heart skipped a beat as you stood there with your jacket in hand. You have changed into more comfortable clothes. Your thong is now replaced by pink sweatpants, baggy as they hang low on your hips, and a tank top in place of your bra. Glancing down at your shoes, she could see the white Nike socks keeping your feet warm from the cold, a pair of slides on your feet. You were arguing with someone, that much was obvious. 

The girl in front of you towered so high, it was almost threatening but you didn’t falter in your stance. Her eyes narrowed into slits as she spoke with malice. “You don’t think I’m not? You can come here and dance half naked for some fucking cash but can’t text me back.” 

You scoffed, clicking your tongue while taking a small step back. “This is my job, I’m obligated to come here.” You gestured toward the club with a finger, wilding pointing before jabbing the same finger into her chest. “I don’t need to text you. You’re not my girlfriend, remember?” 

Licking her lips, the gears turned in Ellie’s brain as she weighed her options. She could intervene, ask what the problem was, be your knight in shining armor — but she decided against it. Her palms grew sweaty once more as she continued to watch the interaction. 

The girl breathed through her nose, nostrils expanding as she took in a deep breath before balling her fists at her side, something you didn’t seem to notice as you stared into her eyes with what could only be described as hatred. 

“Fine, have it your way then.” She walked away, angrily stepping toward her car a couple of feet away from you, opening the door with such force that it nearly broke off. “Don’t expect me to take you back when you come crawling with those fake tears of yours.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving your jacket closer to your chest as you watched her get in her car, tires squealing loudly as she peeled out of the parking lot, leaving tracks on the pavement.

Turning around, you saw Ellie staring at you but still pressed against the curb as you walked over toward her, embarrassment creeping up on you in the form of warm cheeks and pressure behind your eyes. Tears. 

Rubbing at your nose with the back of your hand, you gave her a tight-lipped smile before bending down to join her. “Did you see everything?”

She could see just how embarrassed you were as you pushed the nails on your finger toward your mouth, biting at them nervously. Nodding, she spoke lowly, “Yeah, was that your ex-girlfriend?”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nodded curtly. “Sadly,” 

Not knowing what else to say, she just sat there in silence, enjoying the quietness of the outside world with you next to her. The silence wasn’t awkward — quite the opposite as she no longer felt nervous or out of place as a couple of minutes passed, glances to each other being shared throughout. 

Ellie was growing tired, eyes riddled with a hint of sleep and the extended feeling of desperation urged her to take herself home. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she pressed the side button as the screen lit up, the clock on her home screen reading 3:15 am before she turned it back off again. With a yawn, she lifted herself off the curb, stretching her limbs as some of them cracked at the sensation of no longer being hunched over uncomfortably. 

Turning to look down at you, she saw that you were already staring up at her with doe eyes, lips etched into what seemed like a permanent frown. “Do you have a ride home?” The words left her mouth before she could process them and she wanted to smack herself right after. 

Nodding, you jerked your head toward the black double doors, “My friend’s a bouncer, he usually walks me home since I don’t live far.” You don’t know why you said the last part, internally face-palming at the fact that you gave her a slight hint as to where you lived. 

She didn’t know if it was appropriate to ask if she could walk you home. Even thinking about asking you sent her heart racing wildly inside the expanse of her chest. But, tonight was full of risks and she liked to consider herself a risk-taker — so she bit.

“I can walk you if you want.” She spoke quickly, rushing to explain her thought process. “I’m just saying because it’s like three in the morning and -”

You laughed loudly, slapping a hand over your mouth after it had left you. “I’m sorry, I'm just laughing because it’s kind of cute when you ramble.” You expressed, nodding as you rose to stand next to her causing her to scratch the back of her neck before tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. “But yes, I’d appreciate it if you did.” She promised that if she were able to turn into some form of mush, she would’ve in that very moment that you said her name. 

The walk was nice, to Ellie at least, as you talked to her about your job and the other girls that worked there. She listened with interest although she wasn’t a big gossiper, asking you questions about certain things to let you know that she was listening to every word you said, hanging onto them.  She saw how your steps slowed after walking around four blocks before coming to a complete stop in front of a lone door, the redness of the metal sticking out like a sore thumb in the middle of the street. 

All she did was stand there with her hands in her jeans pockets as you fiddled with the knob, wedging your key inside before pushing it open.

“This is me.” You sighed, stepping inside the dark hallway, turning to face her as you leaned your cheek against the cool edge of your front door, fluttering your eyelashes. “Do you want to like… come in and have a drink? I know it’s almost four in the morning, but I feel bad for taking up your offer of walking me home since it’s your birthday and all.” 

Ellie knew that if she declined your offer, she’d find herself on her bed, wishing she had taken you up on your offer for another drink. Like she said earlier, tonight was all about risks. She’d greedily take this one. 

The nod she gave you sent shivers up your spine, her body moving inside your house as a means to shield herself from the chill night air. The temperature difference made her realize just how buzzed she was as she stood in the darkness of what she assumed was your living room. 

From behind her, she could hear the little ‘plink’ of the light switch as you flicked it on, light flooding the room. 

“You can place your coat here if you want.” 

She turned, raising her eyebrows to see what you were talking about until she saw you hang your jacket on a hook near the door, a hand behind you to take hers from her. She shrugged it off quickly before handing it to you, watching as you stood on your toes to hang hers on the hook above the first one hammered into the wall. 

Moving past her into the kitchen, she had no choice but to follow as you lit the room once more, the small island catching her attention immediately due to how messy it was. 

As if you were reading her thoughts, you spoke with some embarrassment in your voice. “I would’ve cleaned up if I knew I was going to be bringing guests over.” 

She eyed the items around the small area before shaking her head. “No, it’s okay, this allows me to scan for conversation topics.” Was it weird that she said that? Well, you didn’t seem to think so as you laughed heartily from your stomach, hands pulling at the fridge handle, browsing at the limited options of liquor. 

“Uh… do you want a shot of tequila or a glass of Rosè?” She heard your muffled question to which she answered quickly. 

“Tequila.”

“Alright, my kind of girl!” You exclaimed happily, setting the bottle down on the island and grabbing two shot glasses from one of your wooden cabinets. 

Twisting the lid off, you poured the liquor into the small glasses which caused her to stand across from you, drunken eyes watching as you handed her one. She took it before staring into your eyes once again, hungrily this time, as you rubbed your thighs together under her gaze. 

The both of you tilted your head back in unison, downing the shot quickly before you waltzed to where she was standing, eyes never leaving hers as you brought your face closer. 

You didn’t know why you did what you did, and neither did she quite frankly as she stood, stiff and with ragged breaths as you closed the small gap between the two of you. She immediately returned the kiss, her back digging into the edge of the island counter, as you pressed against her, grabbing the shirt she was wearing, tugging it with need. 

With a hand snaked around your back, she moved the other to grab the back of your neck, forcing your teeth to clash against hers as her tongue made its way into the deliciousness of your mouth. You moaned, entwining yours around hers wetly, her warm breath mixing with yours. 

She met you all but four hours ago, and here she was, in your house kissing you as if her life depended on it. 

Her hands moved to your ass, squeezing through the material of your sweatpants as hard as she could when you ground your hips against hers, wanting to dissipate the aching throb between your legs. 

Noticing this, Ellie moved her hand to the front of your sweats, fingers dancing down your naval and onto your folds, opening them slightly to rub at your clit. You whined, pressing your forehead against hers with a hand on the nape of her neck, squeezing slightly. The action caused her to rub at your swelling bud even faster, keeping note of the way your face contorted into one of pleasure, your eyes in the back of your head. 

“You like that, hm?” Seeing you like this, your body pressed against hers leaving little to no space to even breathe made her the wettest she’s ever been. 

You only put your head in the crook of her neck as a response, teeth grazing at the skin below her ear as she shuddered, your slick pooling into her hand when a finger entered you, stretching you oh-so deliciously. 

A sob ripped from your throat, your teeth digging into her neck as you bit to keep yourself from being too loud. Ellie couldn’t help the groan that escaped her when she felt you nipping at the base of her neck, stomach tying into knots at the thought of even just getting to fuck you. 

“Oh, my g-god.” You stuttered, paying extra attention to the finger that was moving in and out of you quickly, grinding yourself onto it lower, with such haste that you just had to scream out. 

“C’mon, baby, I know you can say more than that.” She slurred encouragingly into your ear, the hand on your ass pulling you even further into her as she shoved a second finger in without warning. 

“Feels so fuckin’ good.” You were boarding on tipsy at this point, and not just on alcohol, but the feeling of her fingers as they wormed their way back inside you relentlessly. 

You heard her chuckle, “That’s it, that’s right.” 

Her breathing in your ear, chanting praises, the sensation of white heat building up in your stomach became overwhelming as you clenched around her fingers, releasing all your built-up sexual tension. Or so you thought because when Ellie slowly put her fingers that were previously inside you into her mouth and sucked them dry, you went almost animalistic. 

“Sit on the counter.” You purred, eyelashes fluttering at her, your lids low with arousal and drunkenness. 

Ellie wasn’t one to find herself obeying others, especially in sexual situations,  but for some reason, she found herself doing exactly what you said with a slight tint to her cheeks that wasn’t just from the excessive amount of alcohol she had consumed throughout the night. This hangover was gonna be a bitch.

You loomed over her, arms on either side of her, palms pressed against the counter. “Let me taste you.” 

The pattern of her breathing changed, making her chest rise up and down quickly before she uttered something almost incomprehensible to you. “I’m not the one usually receiving.”

The smile that you gave her was devious as your hands toyed with the button of her jeans, “Please?” You found it pathetic at the way you begged her, but you didn’t care, not one bit as she nodded her head, letting you unclasp the button before you tugged them off along with her black briefs, throwing them somewhere in the kitchen to find later. She felt the cool marble of the countertop against her bottom as she grasped at the edge of the counter with her ringed fingers, looking down at you with so much lust behind her eyes that you could’ve just come for the second time right then and there.

“I’m gonna make you feel good.” You hushed, kissing the inside of her thighs with fervor before swiping your tongue over her cunt, lapping at her juices as they leaked onto your tongue. You sucked harshly at her clit causing her to sob once, hands digging into your hair as she ground her hips into your face further.

 “Mhm,” You moaned into her core, feeling her throb against your mouth, tongue flicking quickly at her clit, her arousal mixed with your spit sending her mind to an entirely different planet as her eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. 

You were staring at her the entire time, your arousal wetting the material of your underwear, making them stick to your folds as you shuffled your hips to move into her more, feeling her shake above you. 

“O - oh my god, fuck.” She whined, lip quivering as her legs shook, an orgasm so intense that she grew numb, letting her spend get sucked onto your tongue before you removed yourself, dabbing at the sides of your mouth with a finger. 

Ellie Williams was completely fucked and love-drunk on you, and she didn’t even fucking know you.

[elliesbelle]

how much i need you

ellie williams one-shot

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you don’t want to love your ex-girlfriend anymore, not when you know you’ll never amount to the girls she's loved before. maybe one day, she’ll realize how much she needs you.

content warnings: cursing, angst, break-up, ellie and reader are both in their mid-20s, joel is alive and never went golfing, descriptions of weapons, mentions of cannibalism, depictions of physical violence and blood, mentions of weight loss, mentions of death, extremely dark themes in general (proceed with caution), minors do not interact

word count: 10.5k

title based on lyric from the olivia o’brien song “hate u love u”

“I don’t think I can take it anymore.”

“Wh-what? What do you mean by that?”

“If you can’t get over this, I don’t think I can be with you anymore.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yeah. I do.”

“E-Ellie.”

The silence between you two screamed in wounded agony. You’d been arguing for the past hour in Ellie’s garage. It was the same argument you’d been having for the past two weeks: Ellie and Cat. Ellie and Dina. Being constantly surrounded by remnants of her love life was crushing you. And even more so that she’d still banter, still flirt. And it cut you every single time.

Ellie would assure you that it was all platonic, that it was normal, the way she spoke to them. That there hasn’t been anything between her and either of them in years.

But how do you forget your first love? Who you had all your firsts with? And how do you forget your most recent ex-girlfriend? Especially one that you still remain best friends with?

You were growing tired of the jealousy. And Ellie was growing tired of your insecurity.

“Just go.” She finally murmurs.

You stare at her blankly.

“B-baby, please.” You whimper.

“I…I don’t think you should call me that anymore.”

“Wh-what?” Your vision was blurry from the tears streaming down your cheeks, falling relentlessly.

“J-just go.”

Ellie still loved you. She loved you more than she was ever able to say. She loved you more than she ever loved Cat. And even more than she ever loved Dina. She believed for the longest time that you could be her person. But maybe not. Maybe not if you just couldn’t deal with her history, her baggage.

“Please, no,” You beg. “Please don’t do this.”

Ellie remains silent as she walks over to the door to open it, signalling you to leave.

No matter how much you bawled and blubbered, Ellie stood her ground.

That’s how you spent the next month: weeping hysterically and enshrouding yourself in your misery.

You spoke only when needed, giving empty and lifeless half-smiles. Others attempted to inquire about the change in your behaviour, much too frequently that Maria had to step in and demand that they stop.

Nevertheless, it wasn’t difficult for them to guess why your once pleasant disposition turned joyless. People no longer saw you with Ellie, only ever catching glimpses of you when you tended to your duties or grabbed supplies or food that you’d eat alone in the sanctuary of your own home.

Ellie hadn’t spoken to you since that day. She hadn’t even asked after you, fearing that she'd come grovelling if she kept tabs on you.

Jesse, who was a patrol leader, and Maria, who was in charge of assignments, took pity on you and no longer appointed you to take part in the daily task of safeguarding Jackson. It was a harrowing job and they saw that your weakened emotional state would not benefit from constant threats of peril.

You didn’t mind this, convinced you were a shit patrol partner anyway. Stealth was usually your strong suit, but that didn’t benefit you much when you came face-to-face with actual danger. You didn’t have the muscles or the brawn to fight threats head-on.

Instead, you spent your days in the greenhouses. It didn’t require much socializing, and the manual labour tired you out, so much so that you could attempt to focus on your fatigue instead of your feelings.

And the plants were hopeful, innocent, forgiving. When you were alone, it was the one place that you still allowed yourself to hum and sing. Everywhere else in Jackson was tainted with memories of your ex-girlfriend, even your own home. But here in the solace of blooming greenery, you could feign a sense of happiness and croon quiet melodies of Etta James and Sam Cooke to the flourishing sprouts.

You knew your life didn’t revolve around Ellie. You knew that. Yet even so, you spent all your time thinking about her late at night when you inevitably couldn’t sleep. You remained a prisoner of your mind as the countless reminders of her you’d been hit with all over Jackson that day would replay in your head.

Every day when you’d make your way to the greenhouses, you were forced to pass by Joel’s house and see the little garage Ellie’d converted into her home. You’d go into the main square and walk by people who used to ask after you when you’d come into town with her, but whose faces no longer turned your way to even spare you a morning greeting. It was Ellie who was important around here, anyway, not you. Walking into the supplies shop or the Tipsy Bison met you either with the same treatment or with pitying expressions, neither of which you noticed much over miserably spotting Ellie’s favourite snacks or her usual brand of alcohol.

Jackson was always more Ellie’s than yours. You loved this town and of course it was home to you. But you’d only arrived a few years back, whereas Ellie had resided here since she was 14. There was no Jackson for you without Ellie. And every breath you took in this town felt like a bittersweet knife being shoved down your throat.

You’d made a few friends since you first arrived in town. But you’d always been closest to Ellie and her group, even before she and you’d started dating. After your break-up, your social routine was disrupted and you made no efforts to confide in others, though a few tried.

The day after Ellie dismissed you from her garage, you heard fervent knocking on your front door around noon. It was your day off and you’d woken up from beneath a throw blanket on your living room couch, having fallen asleep while sobbing into the cushions for a couple of hours. You pulled the sheet over your head and ignored the knocking, preferring the warmth of the blanket over your cold, new reality. You tried to shut your eyes and will for the unwanted visitor to give up and leave, but you relented when you heard the sound of Jesse’s voice ceaselessly calling out your name and threatening to break your front door down.

Jesse had just gotten back from an early morning patrol with Ellie. He’d spent much of the dawn pressing her about her silent and despondent behaviour, and after she gave in and confessed the previous night’s tragic events, he headed straight for your house just seconds after they reentered the gates of Jackson.

Jesse was greeted with your sorry, pathetic state: lips puffy yet cracked as a result of your anxious nipping and biting, a halo of crust around your eyes from your incessant tears the night before, clothes completely askew and clearly slept in. You offered him an insincere smile, one that didn’t reach your eyes.

“Hey, sorry,” You said, voice cracking. “I was sleeping.”

“In your patrol clothes from yesterday?” Jesse inquired.

You gave him a shrug.

“Listen, dude,” He began. “I heard about what happened last night and I wanted to make sure that—“

“Oh, yeah, that. It’s okay. I’m okay.” You interrupted, waving him off.

“Come on, man, I know that you’re—“

“I mean, I’m sad and all, but what are you gonna do, you know?”

“—not okay, you don’t have to pretend otherwise.”

You gave Jesse another wistful smile.

“Look, I gotta go get showered and everything, but I’ll see you all for dinner later at the Tipsy Bison, okay?”

You closed the door on him before he could respond, having no intentions of meeting up with him or any of your friends that night.

You didn’t open your door for visitors again after that day. Jesse passed by later that evening after you didn’t show, but you kept all the lights off in your house and ignored his yelling and knocking ‘til he eventually gave up for the night.

About a week or so after that day, you were walking out of your house for your assigned morning patrol when you were stopped in your tracks by the sight of one of the last people you wanted to see at that moment.

Dina’s right hand was outstretched as if she was about to knock on your door. She looked just as shocked as you when you locked eyes.

“Oh, shit! Sorry, you scared me.” Dina said, exhaling with a quiet laugh.

“Sorry” was all you muttered in response.

You closed and locked the front door as Dina watched you with a doleful gaze.

“Hey, so,” She started. “I…I know that you and Ellie broke up. She told me a little bit about what happened that night, and I just wanted to say that I’m sorry if I ever caused any problems between you two and that I think she was seriously wrong for breaking up with you.”

You were barely processing her words, focusing your gaze instead on a crooked post in the brown picket fence that surrounded your house. You started feeling dizzy and you were struggling to remain upright and grounded.

“Umm, I totally forgot that I had something to do before patrol today. Can you tell Tommy and Joel that I’ll be a little late? Thanks, D.”

You rushed through your excuse before quickly unlocking and disappearing behind your front door, shutting it in Dina’s face the same way you’d done with Jesse.

That was the same day that Maria graciously told you she was taking you off the patrol rotation as you never showed up for your shift. Since then, the greenhouses have been your home away from home. You would arrive during the early hours of the morning before the sun had even graced the sky, and you’d leave only after most of Jackson was sound asleep in their beds. It was barely a life, but in a world where the alternative was being on the outside to be subjected to murderous demons, both of the monster and human variety, you couldn’t be completely ungrateful.

On a cold, snowy day where most of Jackson remained huddled in the shelter of their homes, Maria paid you a visit in the plant nurseries.

You were in a secluded corner away from the others who were also stationed as gardeners, repotting some seedlings into larger buckets. No one tried speaking to you anymore these days, not unless it was absolutely necessary. So when you heard the sound of Maria’s voice from behind you, you nearly dropped your shovel.

“Sorry to interrupt your work, hun,” Maria says apologetically. “But it’s urgent.”

“O-oh, okay.” You mutter, still reeling from the shock of being spoken to. “Is-is everything okay?”

“Well, half the town right now has dropped like flies because of this crazy flu that’s been going around. I’ve barely got anyone for patrols this week since most of them can’t even hold a pistol or stay upright on their horses.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You respond, almost impassive. You had no idea how any of this pertained to you.

“Now, I hate to have to ask you this,” Maria began slowly. “But do you think I can put you back on the patrolling schedule until more of my guys can recover? I wouldn’t be asking, but I really don’t have anyone left to send out there and you’re already trained and know the routes and everything.”

You froze. You had little desire to break out of your mundane everyday routine, and you were also extremely rusty when it came to patrolling. But Maria was always kind to you and was understanding enough to take you off the patrol rotation in the first place. You owed her.

“You really don’t have anyone?” You ask.

“I’m desperate, hun,” Maria states. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

You sigh.

“When do you want me to start?”

“Tomorrow, your usual time in the morning.” She says. “That okay with you?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s fine.” You reply. “Which route?”

“I’ll give you a fairly easy one for tomorrow, give you a chance to get reacquainted with the road again. And don’t worry,” She adds. “I won’t pair you with her.”

You feel a sizeable lump in your throat, merely nodding in acknowledgement to who she was referring to.

“Okay. Tomorrow then.”

“Thank you, hun. It’s only temporary, I promise. You’ll be back in here before you know it. Do you want the rest of the day off today to prep?”

“No, it’s okay,” You reply, shaking your head. “I’ll be fine.”

“Alright, just maybe take it easy and don’t wear yourself out today. And go home early. I want you to rest up.”

You nod once more before returning to your busy work. You feel Maria’s hand on your shoulder and your body tenses up from the sudden physical contact, not having been touched by someone else in so long.

“Thanks again, sweetheart. I’m real grateful. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

You feel Maria’s hand withdraw from you before she exits the greenhouse, leaving you with immediate dread and regret.

The next morning came quicker than you’d liked. Unable to sleep, you’d woken up an hour earlier than needed and spent that time preparing for patrol. You prepared the essentials in your backpack: a medkit, flashlight, a water bottle, a few snacks.

Attached to the front pocket of your bag was a little pin of a moon in its third quarter. Ellie’d found it on a patrol with Joel over a year ago and gifted it to you to match her spaceship pin on her own backpack. You hadn’t noticed you still had it on yours and contemplated removing it. In the end, you kept it on.

The sun was nowhere to be seen behind the thick grey clouds that scattered flurries all around Jackson. Though it would complicate and prolong patrols, you used to love it when it’d snow. It brought a certain kind of beauty that balanced out the dead and dark winter.

You had countless memories of you and Ellie in the snow: you gleefully rushing to the window when seeing it fall from the sky for the first time in the year and Ellie quietly admiring the way your face lit up every time, challenging each other to a snowball fight where Ellie would decimate you with no mercy to which you’d punish her for by stuffing handfuls of snow down her shirt, attempting to build a snowman in front of your house that ended up looking more like a blobfish instead and who you’d both affectionately named Puddles.

But now as you silently stomped through shallow puddles towards the stables, you curse the sky for ungenerously sending the white powder on a day you just wanted to be over as soon as it began.

You get to the stables, nodding at the stablehands with a curt smile, and walk up to your horse, Cleopatra. You smile as you brush her mane lightly with your fingers.

“Hey, old gal,” You sigh. “Sorry for being away so long.”

You then head to the armoury, planning to stock up on weaponry for the trip. As you’re loading a pistol, you hear someone join you from behind.

Dina comes up beside you and begins to load a shotgun. You work in silence for a few moments before she speaks.

“Hey,” She greets. “Jesse told me you were back on the patrol rotation.”

“Temporarily,” You correct her. “Just a favour to Maria while people are out sick.”

“Right,” Dina says. “You gonna be alright?”

“Mhmm” was all you say as you load a rifle.

“Well, don’t die out there!” Dina attempts at a joke.

“No promises.” You mutter as you exit the armoury.

You return to the stables to grab Cleopatra, walking past others preparing for their patrols as well. After a stableboy hands your her reins, you walk her out of the paddock and towards the large gates.

Spotting Jesse, you and Cleopatra head over to his direction while he gives orders to a couple of patrollers who looked like they’d never stepped outside the walls of Jackson in their lives. As they walk away, Jesse spots you walking towards him and his face breaks out in a smile.

“Maria told me you were coming!” He says jovially, giving you a one-arm hug that you tepidly return.

“Who are you sending me out with?” You ask, not wishing to engage in small talk.

“This guy Antoine,” Jesse replies. “He’s about our age and works in the stables, but Maria recruited him temporarily.”

You nod.

“Sorry to put you with someone new,” Jesse continues. “We’re trying to pair newbies with people with experience so we’re not sending people to their deaths out there.”

“You sure you want to send him out with a shit patroller like me?” You say.

“Oh, stop that,” Jesse reprimands. “You’re an excellent partner.”

You hum in disagreement and say nothing. Jesse leads you to where a tall, blonde man you assumed was Antoine who was standing and holding the reins of a horse you remembered was named Pink. He introduces you and talks about which route you’d been assigned to, and you and Antoine politely nod at each other before lining up with the rest of the patrollers right in front of the gates.

As Tommy and Joel give their usual speech on what to look out for and updates on what had been encountered on recent patrols, you suddenly feel a sense of dread wash over you. Ellie had walked up to join Dina, who was her patrol partner that day, with her horse Shimmer by her side. Your eyes betray you as they unwittingly fall on her casually conversing with Dina, laughing at a joke she seemed to have said. Tearing your gaze away from the sight, you don’t realize that seconds after you’d stopped looking at her, Ellie’s face drops as her eyes fall on you.

Once Tommy finishes a spiel on raiders having spotted nearby and warning against them, he and Joel nod everyone off to proceed with their duties as the sentries finally open the gates. You mount Cleopatra as Antoine does the same with Pink, and you start to pull at her reins to depart when you suddenly hear hoofbeats clopping towards you. Your face drains of blood as you see Ellie on Shimmer coming up to your side.

“Hey.” She says as she pulls Shimmer to a stop.

You try to work yourself up to greet her back but your mouth remains silent.

“I, umm, saw you got put back on patrols.” She mutters.

You muster up enough of your voice to mutter back, “For now.”

“Well, uhh. Be careful out there.” She cautions.

Unable to hold back a scoff, you say, “You don’t care.”

Before Ellie can respond, you tap Cleopatra lightly with your foot and jerk at her reins to signal her to move forward. You hear Ellie trying to call you, but you force yourself not to look back as you ride Cleopatra out of Jackson.

Antoine was the perfect patrol partner, in that he remained silent for most of your round. He seemed to sense that you were in no mood for small talk and only spoke in response to any directions you gave.

Maria upheld her promise of giving you a fairly easy route to scout. You and Antoine hadn’t encountered any Infected or otherwise throughout most of the patrol. After searching a nearby abandoned neighbourhood a little past noon, you decide that it was time to make the journey back to Jackson.

However, it seemed that Antoine, who had never been outside the walls of the town, was reluctant to leave.

“Wait, I kind of want to explore a little more.” He says, refusing to mount his horse Pink and heading into the empty house where he had her reins tied to the fence.

“Antoine!” You call out after him, having already mounted Cleopatra and readied yourself to leave. Antoine ignores you as he disappears behind the front door. You curse under your breath as you hop off your horse.

“Get your ass back here!” You yell as you cross the threshold of the house. You explore the place, scanning each room in an attempt to find the blonde man who you desperately wished to throttle.

You find him in one of the bedrooms upstairs, reading through a comic book he’d found in a small bookshelf in a corner. The front cover had an array of superheroes in nonsensical outfits, looking as if they were fighting in some war in outer space. You ignore the voice in your head that thought about how it looked like something Ellie would find fascinating.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You demand.

“I can’t believe this is really shit that they had back in the old world. Whoever lived here has like, fifty of these.” Antoine says.

“Who the fuck cares, Antoine,” You angrily seethe. “We shouldn’t be out here too long. There could be Infected around.”

“We just checked out the whole neighbourhood and there wasn’t anything. Lighten up a little.” He replies.

“Just because we haven’t seen anything, it doesn’t mean there isn’t anything out there!”

“Look, this is my first time outside of Jackson. I just want to enjoy it for a little bit before I get stuck back on stable duty.”

“You wanna enjoy being out here where you could get ripped apart by monsters at any sec—” Your tirade was interrupted when the butt of a gun knocks you out.

Ellie and Dina were just returning from their patrol after being delayed by a group of Infected in a nearby grocery store. Trotting through the gates with their horses Shimmer and Japan, they were laughing over some ridiculous pun Ellie had just made and didn’t notice Jesse sprinting towards them.

“Jesus, fuck, thank god you’re both back.” He says as Tommy follows behind him.

“Sorry, man, had to clear out that grocery store about ten miles west. Had like, ten runners in there waiting for us.” Ellie explains, laughter still resonating in her voice.

Dina, noticing the serious look on Jesse’s face, eyes him warily.

“Wait, what’s wrong?” She asks him.

“You’re…you’re not the only ones who hadn’t returned yet.” He replies.

Ellie’s face falls slightly as she finally realizes the gravity of the situation.

“Oh shit, who else hasn’t gotten back?”

“It’s just one other pair who seems to be running late.” Tommy says, having caught up to the trio. Jesse gives him a warning look in response.

“Wait, who?” Dina asks, dismounting from Japan.

Jesse and Tommy unwittingly look at Ellie at the same time before sharing an anxious look. Ellie narrows her eyes.

“Who, Tommy?” She asserts.

Tommy opens his mouth to speak but immediately shuts it as Ellie’s face shifts from confusion to understanding. She pulls at Shimmer’s reins, urging her to turn around and retreat from the gates of Jackson once more. Jesse dashes forward and stops Shimmer in her tracks.

“We don’t know what’s happened yet, Ellie. They could have just gotten held back by something.”

“Fucking move, Jesse.” Ellie spits.

“She’s a smart girl, El. I’m sure she’ll be back soon.”

“I swear to god, dude, I will run you over.”

“What route did you assign them to?” Dina asks.

“The one that goes southeast and follows the river into that abandoned town about fifteen miles east.”

“Tommy!” Jesse chides, having withheld that information on purpose.

“Great. Thanks, Tommy.” Ellie says, urging Shimmer to walk past Jesse before Dina steps in front of her as well.

“Ellie, that’s a real easy route. I’m sure she’s fine.” Dina assures.

“She’s with that dumbass stableboy who’s never been outside of the town, much less held a gun before. If nothing’s happened, they would be back by now.”

“She knows how to take care of herself, kid.” Tommy chimes in. “I’m sure that the snow just delayed their return, that’s all.”

“Just give them an hour, dude,” Jesse adds. “If they’re not back by then, we’ll send a few people out to search.”

“A lot can happen in a fucking hour, Jess,” Ellie retorts. “I’m not leaving it up to chance.”

“What’s going on?” A voice behind the group says. They all turn to see Maria walking towards them.

“These fucking assholes won’t let me go after my fucking girlfriend.” Ellie hisses.

“Ex.” Jesse corrects her. Ellie shoots him a menacing look.

“Did they also tell you that we’re ready to go out and look for them if they don’t return soon?” Maria says, ignoring the exchange.

“I can do it right now.” Ellie replies stubbornly.

“You’ve been out patrolling all day, hun. I’m sure you’re tired. I’ve already gathered a group of people to help search the area if they don’t get back soon.”

“But—”

“Don’t let your guilt make you do something stupid, Ellie.” Maria interrupts with a tone of finality.

Ellie stares at her as Jesse pats her leg.

“She’s a smart girl, Ellie.” He repeats. “I’ll go out with the searching party myself too if they don’t get back soon.”

“Wait!” Dina yells, looking past the gates. “I see something!”

The group all focus their gaze on the direction she’s pointing at, making out a couple of figures approaching. Ellie breathes a sigh of relief when she makes out the outline of two horses approaching, but the moment is short-lived when the sight, which was originally obscured by the snow, reveals only one person riding on horseback.

Ellie dismounts from Shimmer as Antoine finally crosses the border of the town. She makes a beeline for him, angrily grabbing at his shirt and almost ripping him off Pink.

“Where the fuck is she? Why the fuck are you alone?!” She demands as Dina and Jesse tear her off him, allowing him to properly get down from his horse.

“I–we–I don’t…” Antoine begins to stutter.

“Speak, boy.” Tommy demands.

“I don’t…I don’t know where she is.” Antoine admits.

Maria, ignoring Ellie’s various curses and swearing, moves forward to speak.

“What the hell does that mean, Antoine?” She asks coolly.

“We got ambushed at the town we were patrolling, we were inside a house and they snuck up behind us, they knocked her unconscious and I was able to get away before they could get to me.” He replied so quickly that they almost didn’t catch what he was saying.

“So you fucking left her?” Ellie growls.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know what else to do!”

“We gave you a gun, you were put into training beforehand,” Jesse scolds. “You’re partners for a reason. You’re supposed to fucking look out for each other.”

“I-I panicked. There were several of them and they were all big guys and—”

“It should have fucking been you instead!” Ellie screams, lunging towards Antoine before Tommy catches her and holds her back.

“What did they look like? Did they say anything? Anything at all that can lead to where they might have brought her?” Maria inquires.

“I-it was so quick and I couldn’t get a glimpse of their faces. They mostly wore black clothing. And th-they said…”

“Said what?” Jesse prompts.

“They said, ‘this one looks like she’ll be pretty delicious,’ before I could escape.”

You wake up to a throbbing headache and severe nausea. Your right hand flies up to your temple while the other shields your eyes from a blurry, yellow light being cast from somewhere above you. The first thing you see once your vision clears up a little is rusted, silver fencing that served as a cage. As you peer at your surroundings, you hear the repetitive sound of a blade hitting timber.

Sitting up, you see two men facing away from you and leaning over a wide, wooden table. One had a large sack flung over his shoulder that slowly dripped blood, while the other was wielding a butcher’s knife, chopping some kind of meat that your view was obscured from. It was only when the man slides it off the table with his blade that you realize what it was as you take in a sharply drawn breath: a human arm.

Your silent gasp catches the attention of the man with the sack, who nudged his companion. They both turn to look at you, the knife holder smirking as he did so. He places it down on the table to bring his full attention to you.

“Get Ian,” He tells the other man. “Tell him the girl’s finally awake.”

His friend nods before dropping the bag and walking out of the room which, as you inspect further, looked almost like a slaughterhouse. Your eyes flit back and forth between the man staring at you and the cage imprisoning you. You try to search for flaws in the fencing for a chance to escape, but you find none. The man continues to eye you, almost with an air of cruel arrogance.

A few moments pass before he’s joined by a different man with brown hair and a lightly-shaved beard. He joins his friend leaning on the wooden table and addresses you directly.

“Good morning,” He states civilly. “How are you feeling?”

You don’t respond, intent on keeping your interactions with these strangers as minimal as possible. The man continues to speak anyway.

“I apologize for the way my associates treated you. I’m sure they didn’t mean to knock you out that hard. You were unconscious for much longer than needed.”

He approaches your cage to crouch at your eye level and you instinctively back away until your back hits the wall behind you.

“My name is Ian, and this is my friend Jacob. Can you tell me what your name is?”

You make a show of tightening your lips in defiance.

“That’s alright, I get it. We’re strangers, after all.” He says, holding his hands up in acknowledgement. “We’re gonna get to know each other pretty well, I’m sure.”

Your eyebrows furrow, wondering his meaning but still too scared to open your mouth.

The man who had gone to fetch Ian returns with a wooden tray of food and a small cup in his hands which he slides underneath a small gap underneath the makeshift cage’s door. You eye it suspiciously. Your brain and your stomach are at war with each other, one begging for sustenance while the other berates it for its naivete.

“You better eat up,” The man named Ian says. “Gonna need your strength. Looks like you haven’t been eating much. And I know you’re hungry; been out for quite some time.”

You ignore his comment about the clear loss of weight you’ve gone through recently, knowing your face was slightly more gaunt than it ought to have been from eating a lot less for the past month.

“What is it?” You question despite yourself, eyes shooting towards the tray at your feet.

“It’s deer.” He responds simply.

Your eyes dart towards the human body parts that lay on the floor. Ian smiles and understands what you’re thinking without turning to see where your gaze is directed.

“Just deer meat. I promise.”

You go back to eyeing the food they’d given you, every ounce of your willpower being tested. To give in and eat the food they’d provided would be playing into their game, but you had no idea how long you’d been asleep and you were ravenous.

The man Ian had introduced as Jacob speaks up.

“I think we should just get rid of her; she seems stubborn.”

“Most of them are,” Ian responds. “We’ll break her. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

You glower at him in response. He chuckles.

“We’ll give you some time,” He continues, standing up from his hunched position. “It’s ultimately up to you to decide your fate. Hope you like solitude.”

Ian looks at his companions and beckons them to leave. Jacob follows and the unnamed man picks up the sack he’d dropped previously, places the human remains on the floor inside of it, and follows the two others out before locking the door behind him.

You release a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding this whole time. It takes a few minutes, but you’re able to pull yourself up from the floor to further examine your surroundings. Even after closer investigation, the silver fencing seemed impenetrable and solid. The wooden tray they’d served the deer meat on was flimsy and thin, impossible to use as either a weapon or a means of escape. The cup was small and plastic, completely useless for anything else other than its intended purpose.

As options for liberation grew slimmer and slimmer, you begin to hyperventilate. You had a feeling that these men intended to leave you in here alone to go completely mad, at least until they decide to execute the next stage in their malevolent plan. You had no weapons, no means of escape, no company.

Your mind finally falls on your patrol partner, Antoine. Why wasn’t he in here? Did he get away? The trio made no mention of him. He would have been in here if he was captured as well.

Or did they “take care” of him first? You begin to feel even more nauseous when you remember what the man Jacob had been doing prior to your waking. Was Antoine not spared? You had no idea how long you were out for. Ian had only said that you were out for a while. Regardless of your loathing for Antoine and his stupidity, you prayed to every known entity out there that he’d made it back to Jackson.

Your heart sank even further down your stomach upon coming to another realization: was anyone looking for you? Surely after all this time, they’d realized you hadn’t been back from your patrol. They’d sent out search parties when people had gone missing, but how determined would they be to find you? Would they not just assume you were dead or, even worse, bitten? Who would be risking their safety outside the walls of Jackson for the shadow of a person that barely a soul in the town noticed anymore?

Ellie had not slept for more than twenty minutes in the past 72 hours. Despite Maria’s protests, she’d joined the search party that had been scouring the outskirts of Jackson for you. Maria eventually relented on letting her go when Joel had volunteered to join the mass of citizens tracking you down, promising her that he’d be by her side. Jesse and Dina had both stepped forward to take part as well, but Maria put her foot down and pointed out that she still needed competent protectors to continue keeping Jackson safe.

Antoine was dragged into joining the search party on the first day to retrace the steps you and he had taken during your patrol. He abashedly walked Ellie and Joel through the house you’d been kidnapped in, leading them into the bedroom where you’d been knocked unconscious. After squeezing every bit of information out of him, Joel crisply ordered Antoine to go back outside and wait with the horses while he and Ellie scoured the place.

Within moments of their search, Ellie spots a glint of metal on the rug. She crouches down to further inspect what had caught her eye to find a sharp, golden point aiming upward. She turns it over to see it was the half-moon pin she’d given you over a year ago. It was missing the backing, which she knew meant it was accidentally torn off your backpack that she knew you’d pinned it on.

Slowly standing up, Ellie didn’t realize that she’d begun to sob. Joel turns to her and before he’s able to inquire anything of her, she holds out the hand carrying the pin. He picks it up and examines it, immediately recalling the day when he and Ellie had found it during patrol. He remembered how gleeful she was upon its discovery, how he’d rolled his eyes and chuckled over how absolutely lovestruck she was over you. He pulls her into a tight hug as she continues to cry uncontrollably.

“We’ll find her, kiddo. You and me, we crossed the entire country together and survived. We’ll find her together, I promise.”

It could have been days, weeks that had passed since you were abducted. Time had no meaning in your small prison, nothing but the sun shining through a small window to indicate what vague hour of the day it possibly was. Your only source of human interaction was when someone would bring you a tray of food twice in, what you’d assume, a day. You’d eventually caved into your hunger, realizing that you had no other choice other than resorting to the same barbaric sin these people had grown so comfortable in doing. Your only comfort was knowing that they had only been feeding you deer meat, the flavour remaining unchanged and the taste never being unfamiliar.

It was a different person delivering the food and water every time, leading you to believe that this was a larger group of people than just the three men you’d met on your first day. At first, you attempted to keep count of how many came in, but your solitary confinement was quickly driving you to delusion and you began to doubt your memory.

The only thing that was keeping you mildly sane was singing to yourself throughout the day. The act that had once brought you solace during your time in the greenhouses was the one thing that was keeping you grounded as you felt yourself slowly withering away.

🎶 Tonight, you’re mine completely // You give your love so sweetly

Tonight, the light of love is in your eyes // But will you still love me tomorrow? 🎶

Memories of Ellie come flooding to you like an avalanche: the way she’d wrap her arms around you while you were quietly humming songs from the old world to yourself as you washed dishes, the way she’d urge you to keep singing as she tried to twirl you around in your living room, how she used to love laying on your chest and listening to your crooning as you’d stroke her hair when you’d both be lounging on a day off.

🎶 Is this a lasting treasure // Or just a moment’s pleasure?

Can I believe the magic of your sighs? // Will you still love me tomorrow? 🎶

You and Ellie both bonding over your love of music was one of the first steps towards falling in love with one another. You’d always been drawn to her, since the moment your eyes met. But as you both learned more about each other, that attraction grew into the feeling of needing her for the rest of your life.

🎶 Tonight with words unspoken // You say that I’m the only one

But will my heart be broken // When the night meets the morning sun? 🎶

You wonder if you’d be where you were in the first place if you and Ellie hadn’t broken up in the first place. You would have kept your patrol duties, and maybe you wouldn’t have gotten paired up with Antoine. Maybe your desolation and disconnect from life turned you careless. You’d been in mortal peril several times in the past. But not like this.

🎶 I’d like to know that your love // Is a love I can be sure of

So tell me now and I won’t ask again // Will you still love me tomorrow?

Will you still love me tomorrow? 🎶

You needed Ellie.

It had been over four days since your sudden kidnapping, and Ellie was growing more and more desperate. There had been little traces of where you’d been taken and even less proof of whether you were still alive. Ellie felt every part of her dying every second you hadn’t been found, and the only thing that kept her going was her unyielding determination to have you safe and sound back home.

It was evening when Ellie and Joel had regrouped with the rest of the search party at a watch tower that usually served as a patrol checkpoint. She and Joel had safely tied the reins of their horses next to the others before heading to the second floor of the watchtower. Ellie had been adamant to continue searching through the night, and it took everything within Joel not to drag her by her toes to get some rest and convene with the others.

Joel was reprimanding her calmly for making them late meeting up with the rest of the search party as they walked into the room full of other Jackson citizens who were all conversing erratically. When they’d set eyes on the pair, a hush fell over the group. Ellie and Joel begin scanning their faces before a woman in the middle speaks up.

“We think we might know where they are, Joel.” She announces softly.

Ellie’s exhausted demeanour immediately shifts to alertness.

“Where? How do you know? Are you sure?” She demands agitatedly.

Joel holds a hand up to Ellie before saying, “What did you find?”

“Audrey and Lyn spotted some raiders about six miles northeast. Or at least, they thought they were raiders. They overheard their conversation and…” She looks over at a pair of women sitting on a couch to the side.

“They’re from a settlement not too far from where we spotted them.” The woman named Lyn speaks. “I’m not sure how we never discovered it, but there’s a rather large group that’s dwelling in that area. Not nearly as big as Jackson, but a good amount,”

“They armed?” Joel questions.

“Yeah. We need to be careful approaching them. It doesn’t to be as safely guarded as Jackson, but the sentries still look vicious.”

“Do we need backup?”

“I think as long as we’re smart and stealthy, our group will be good enough to infiltrate their village.”

“How do we know for sure that she’s in there?”

Lyn exchanges a look with the woman Audrey next to her.

“They were talking about some fresh meat that they’d acquired just a few days ago, a girl. They—”

Lyn falters, unable to finish her sentence. Audrey glances at her before looking at both Joel and Ellie with wary eyes.

“Th-they’re cannibals, Joel.”

All the colour drains from Ellie’s face as she’s flung into memories from a decade ago of being trapped in a cage by a man named David.

🎶 They say everything can be replaced // They say every distance is not near 🎶

You were laying on your back, facing up at the bleak and boring ceiling that you’d grown to memorize.

🎶 So I remember every face // Of every man who put me here 🎶

Your eyes were glazed over, autonomously singing lyrics to a song that you knew by heart.

🎶 I see my light come shining // From the west down to the east 🎶

You try desperately to cling to the memory of Ellie’s face, terrified to lose all the small details that you felt slowly slipping away as you descend more and more into sequestered delusion.

🎶 Any day now, any day now // I shall be released 🎶

“Is that what you think, sweetheart?” A voice interrupts your musical reverie.

You turn slowly towards the speaker who was crouching outside your cage, your head the only thing that moves as the rest of your body is too weak to physically respond.

“You have a beautiful voice. I’ve been growing fond of hearing it these past few days. Big fan of the oldies, huh?”

You continue to stare at Ian, your face expressionless.

“That’s something we’ve got in common, you and I. I’m quite partial to Otis Redding myself.”

You struggle to keep down the bile building up in your throat at hearing this repulsive man expressing love for something.

“It’s almost endearing how you still hold out hope for escaping.”

“It’s just a song.” You finally speak, deadpan.

“True.” Ian responds, his face perking up at your engagement. “You still do have a chance to be released, you know. Just gotta prove that you’ll be a valuable asset to us. Be a team player.”

“You mean consent to eating people.”

“We’re survivalists, princess. In this world, being picky is not a luxury.”

“I’d rather retain the little humanity I have left, thanks.” You retort before turning your head back to stare at the ceiling once more.

“Surviving and persevering is inherently human. We kill to survive. We take care of our own, by any means necessary.”

“So now what?” You ask. “You’re gonna chop me up into tiny pieces and serve me to your cult?”

“Hey, now. ‘Cult’ is a bit too strong of a word, muffin.” He says, defensively. “Like I said, we’re survivalists. But I’d rather not have to—how’d you say it? ‘Chop you up into tiny pieces’?”

You merely scoff in response.

“Please tell me your name.”

“No.”

“You know mine.”

“Indeed I do.”

“I’ve been quite honest with you. It’s just the polite thing to do, you know.”

“You know what’s polite?” You turn your head back towards him. “Not keeping someone in a fucking cage.”

“Just a precaution. Gotta figure out if you can be one of us.”

“In your motherfucking dreams, asshole.” You spit.

Ian sighs before standing up straight once more. He looks at you despondently.

“It’d be a shame to lose you, sweetheart. You have heart. You’re special. Having you for dinner would feel like such a waste of the little beauty left in this world.”

“I’m not your fucking sweetheart.” You seethe.

“That’s too bad.” Ian tsks. “Keep singing those songs for me, sweetheart. While you still can.”

He exits the room, and you hear the sound of multiple locks clicking as you had every time you were left alone once more.

A sinking feeling in your stomach tells you that you may not be trapped in this cage for much longer.

Ellie’s ocean-green eyes scan their surroundings, observing the guards that patrolled the edge of the village. There were at least a dozen of them and they appeared to be heavily armed as Lyn had promised. Some were keeping vigilant watch, but most were carelessly chatting with one another.

The whole party from Jackson remained perfectly concealed in the shadows of the forest right next to the village. They’d chosen to arrive at dusk at the exact time that the sun had just set, perfect to remain eclipsed in the shade but having enough light to navigate the unfamiliar town.

Joel lifts his head slightly from the bush he and Ellie were hidden behind, meeting the eyes of the others as he gave a signal. They all nodded in quiet response as they readied their weapons, some holding pistols equipped with makeshift silencers and Ellie with her faithful bow and arrow. One by one, they take out each of the guards. They fall quickly to the ground, none having enough time to react or sound any alarm of an attack. The second the last one collapses, Joel holds up a hand as he silently counts down before signalling the rest to quickly approach.

Ellie is the quickest to reach the border of the town, having set aside her bow and equipping her semi-auto pistol. Remembering information Lyn and Audrey had provided from their overheard conversation, she swiftly weaves through the village as her eyes scoured for a brick house with a metal entryway. Most of the buildings seemed to be partially constructed with a wooden exterior, but if their intel was correct, you were being kept in some kind of slaughterhouse.

As she’s made it halfway through the town, Ellie catches the eye of another companion who gestures to a brown cinder block building being guarded by two citizens holding hunting rifles. She scans the scene before aiming her gun towards them, her precise shots quieted by a silencer. Both guards topple over almost immediately, giving Ellie the opportunity to sprint towards the entrance. She’s joined by a boy named Levi to see the door to the slaughterhouse sealed off by a heavy padlock. She signals Levi to draw back before aiming her pistol and shattering the lock.

Ellie tears it off the handles before wrenching the doors open. She actively ignores the heavy machinery and smell of rotting meat and spots a door that appeared to lead down to a lower floor. That too was padlocked and she immediately attended to it the same way she’d done with the first. Levi remains behind to keep watch as Ellie quietly descends down the stairs to the basement.

She ignores all the doorways leading to other rooms when she spots a heavy-looking metal door with multiple locks. As she approaches it, she hears a muffled melody from behind it.

Is that…singing?

🎶 Now you say you’re lonely // You cry the whole night through

Well, you can cry me a river, cry me a river // I cried a river over you 🎶

Ellie recognizes the same voice she had fallen in love with all those years ago as yours, her heart filling with affection and her spirits being lifted for the first time in days.

🎶 Now you say you’re sorry // For being so untrue

Well, you can cry me a river, cry me a river // I cried a river over you 🎶

As she examines the steel entryway for an opening, she’s flooded with memories of secretly listening to your innocent singing when you had thought you were alone.

🎶 You drove me, nearly drove me out of my head // While you never shed a tear

Remember, I remember all that you said // Told me that love was too plebeian

Told me you were through with me 🎶

Ellie unbolts several latches and uses her pistol to shoot off yet another heavy-duty lock that separated her from you.

🎶 And now you say you love me // Well, just to prove you do

Come on and cry me a river, cry me a river // I cried a river over you 🎶

She violently wrenches the weighty door open, realizing now more than ever how much she needs you.

🎶 I cried a river over you

I cried a river over you

I cried a river over you 🎶

The song fades to an end as her eyes fall onto a figure trapped within silver fencing, laying flat on its back with its hands folded on its stomach.

“B-baby?” Ellie whispers, eyes filling with tears.

Your own eyes remain closed as you ignore the quiet voice you assumed was Ian, returning once more to torment you and perhaps even drag you to your death.

Ellie approaches your cage, her gaze falling on your frame for the first time in what felt like an eternity. She notices how much scraggier you appeared, clearly being fed very little during your confinement.

She clears her throat softly as she crouches down to your level, hand falling on the fencing that felt reminiscent of the prison she was once held in all those years ago.

“Baby.” She repeats once more, her voice clearer and fuller.

“Go to hell, Ian.” You finally vocalize, eyes still remaining closed and ignoring how the voice seemed different from that of Ian’s. You conclude that you’ve finally reached the point of delusion where any voice you hear mimics that of your ex-girlfriend.

“No, it’s-it’s me.” Ellie whispers.

You finally open your eyes and turn towards the source of introduction. Your eyebrows lift slightly as you take in the features of the girl you were still madly in love with, despite everything. You look her up and down for a few moments before returning to your original position.

“This is a rather cruel joke. I preferred it when my hallucinations left me alone, thank you.”

“This isn’t a hallucination,” Ellie utters as she feels her heart crack. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.”

You turn back towards her and finally sit up, further examining your new companion. You scrutinize her further, still fully of the belief that your delusion had finally taken hold of you. You approach the border of your cage slowly before speaking.

“Are you real?” You ask.

Finally within your reach, Ellie holds a hand out as far as she’s able to stroke your cheek.

“I’m real, pretty girl. I promise.”

The moment her skin touches yours, your body is filled with a sense of vigour and life that it hadn’t felt in weeks.

“E-Ellie?” You say meekly.

“I’m here,” She repeats. “I’m here. I’m getting you out right now.”

“No, you’re not. Hands up.”

Your body freezes at the sound of the voice you’d grown to be familiar with the past few days.

“Drop the gun. Now.”

Ellie immediately lets go of her pistol and rigidly straightens up from her crouched position. She turns slowly towards Ian who has a revolver pointed, not at her, but at you.

“So, my new pet has a little friend? Sweetheart, you never told me about her.”

“Don’t fucking call her that.” Ellie spits.

“I can call her whatever I want. I’m not the one with a gun to their head.”

Ellie eyes his revolver and slowly inches to shield you from his aim.

“Don’t you fucking move!” Ian hisses. “I can shoot you, then shoot her.”

“E-Ellie, please just,” You stutter. “Move out of the way.”

“No,” Ellie mutters through gritted teeth, standing her ground. “I’m not fucking moving.”

“You’ve got until the count of three.” He orders her.

You grip the back of Ellie’s shirt through the fence, silently urging her to move. She refuses to yield.

“One,” Ian begins. “Two—”

His countdown is interrupted by the butt of a gun colliding with the back of his head. Joel emerges from behind him holding up a hunting rifle.

You let out a choked-out sob, your grip on Ellie’s shirt loosening. Hot tears were falling down your cheeks that you didn’t notice until Ellie turned towards you to check on your state, wiping them away.

“Are you okay?” She asks fervently.

“I-I…” You stammer.

“We need to go now.” Joel interrupts. “We may have taken out a few guards, but we don’t know how many more they have stationed out there.”

Joel searches Ian’s unconscious body, finding a set of keys in his front pocket. After some trial and error, he and Ellie are able to find the key that unlocked your cage.

Ellie pulls you into a tight embrace, repeatedly whispering “thank god, thank god,” into your hair. You pull away, feeling slightly suffocated and having no desire to remain within this room that served as your prison for what felt like years.

Ellie picks up the pistol she had dropped before she begins to walk you towards the exit. But before you reach it, Ian begins to stir from beneath you. Both Joel and Ellie point their respective guns at him.

“Wait.” You say, holding a hand up.

“Baby, but—“ Ellie begins but stops when she sees you reaching towards the butcher’s knife that had been stabbed into the chopping table, the same one that had served as your only view during your confinement.

Ellie releases your waist just as you lift the cleaver above your head.

The moment you step out of the slaughterhouse, you nearly collapse. It was almost as if the air outside your prison was twice as thick than within, and your lungs were still incapable of not choking from it.

Ellie, sensing you about to drop, quickly wraps her arms around your waist as your legs crumple beneath you. She scoops you up from your knees and carries you down the road, Joel following quickly behind. As you spot the borders of the town where familiar faces from Jackson begin convening around you, you black out in a flash.

You wake up to the familiar scent of cedarwood and sage. Your body feels weighed down onto what felt like a bed, unable to move your limbs with ease. Every part of you still wished to remain asleep, but something else seemed to be pulling you out of your comatose state. Your eyes are the first to move, fluttering open slowly and agonizingly before they survey the position you’d been unconsciously placed in.

Light peeks through sheer blue curtains that decorated Ellie’s garage window to your right. You shift your head slightly to gaze through the panes, regarding how there was barely any snow on the ground. Your eyebrows knit in bewilderment, wondering how long you’d been out for that the snow had finally melted.

“It rained yesterday while you were sleeping.”

You slowly turn towards the sound of the gentle, calming voice and meet the ocean-green eyes that had been staring at you since the moment you’d woken.

“What?” You whisper, voice croaking from lack of use.

“That’s why there’s no snow anymore. Rain melted it away last night.”

Ellie was sitting at the foot of the bed, a graphic novel right next to her that now lay forgotten.

You stare at her in befuddlement, perplexed at how she’d read your mind so quickly and easily just from a look.

“Oh,” You say. “How long was I out for?”

“About a day or so.”

“Shit. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Ellie says, moving from her spot to settle next to you. She places a gentle hand on top of yours.

“I-I don’t know.” You reply, cringing instinctively at her touch.

She pulls away immediately.

“S-sorry…”

“It’s okay.” You utter, heart rising to your cheeks. “Is everyone alright?”

“Everyone’s fine, I promise. We were able to get in and out quick with no casualties on our side.”

“No one was hurt?”

“That kid Levi is probably a little traumatized after entering that slaughterhouse, but he’ll probably stop vomiting anytime soon.” Ellie attempts a joke, smiling slightly.

You don’t return her smile, looking down at your hands in guilt. The memories of being trapped in that isolated hell were still so raw and you were trying not to throw up from the thought of it yourself.

“I can’t believe I was so stupid to get caught like that. I put so many people in fucking danger just because I let my guard down. I fucking—”

“No, don’t do that.” Ellie interrupts. Her hand twitches, as if she wanted to touch you again but stopped herself. “That fucking coward Antoine should have never left you alone.”

“It’s not his fault… He was just scared. It’d have probably been worse if he got caught along with me.”

“If you just had a competent partner out there with you… It should have been me in the first place like it always was before.” Ellie curses.

“It’s fine…” You mutter.

“It’s not fucking fine!” Ellie exclaims, throwing her hands up and getting up in frustration. You watch as she paces by the bed. “I-I could have lost you, baby.”

“Why does that matter?” You whisper.

“B-because…” Ellie stutters, not making eye contact with you. “Because I love you.”

You stare at her vacantly. Those had been the words you’d been wanting to hear again from her for the past month. But you couldn’t bring yourself to believe her.

“You didn’t before.” You say blankly. “What you did, someone who loved me wouldn’t do that. You left me. You fucking left me.”

Ellie kneels next to you and dares put her hands on top of yours once more.

“I never stopped loving you, baby. The past few weeks… it was fucking hell on earth. It took fucking everything in me not to crawl back on my knees to you and beg for your forgiveness.”

“But you didn’t,” You argue. “You threw me out, Ellie. You told me to stop calling you ‘baby.’ The past month… it was slowly killing me, and you didn’t give a damn. You didn’t fucking care. You went about your life like you didn’t tear my heart out of my chest. I haven’t seen you once since that night, and suddenly you’re here telling me you still love me.”

“Cause it hurt me every time I saw you.” Ellie says, voice cracking and eyes watering. “Every time I saw you when I passed by the greenhouses or when I would see you walking home… it fucking hurt.”

“Didn’t fucking seem like it. ”

“I-I thought… I thought being apart was what was best for us. I loved you so much and I didn’t want my past to get in the way, I thought that maybe I could make you see that I’m faithful to you and only you. It was so fucking stupid, I was so fucking stupid.”

Tears were streaming down Ellie’s face nonstop now, staining the bedsheets.

“Everything that happened to you the past few days, it was my fault. You’d never have been there if I didn’t push you away. I can only imagine the kind of torture you went through, being in there. I was so fucking terrified, the most I’d ever been in my whole life. All because I was too fucking proud, too fucking blind.”

Your breath hitches, remembering the time Ellie’d confided in you one sleepless night about what happened to her a decade ago when she was kidnapped by a man named David.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” Ellie continues. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I don’t love anybody else. You don’t know how much I need you, how much I’ll always need you. I was so fucking stupid, I’m so sorry.”

You pull one of your hands away from hers to caress her face, the corners of your lips turning up slightly.

“Yeah. Yeah, you are kind of stupid.”

Ellie’s eyes widen in surprise and her face breaks out into a teary smile.

“It took me getting kidnapped and eaten by a group of cannibals for you to apologize?” You say, joking for the first time in a month. Ellie laughs awkwardly.

“I’ll never leave you again. I swear.”

“No, you don’t have to swear, Ellie. It’s—“

She shakes her head.

“I know I have to gain your trust back. I can’t imagine the hell you went through the past few days, and the most important thing for me right now is to make sure you’re okay. And to make sure you know that I’ll be here with you. Forever, until you don’t want me anymore.”

“I’ll always want you, Ellie.” You smile, your thumb wiping her tears away. She leans into your hand as she gazes lovingly back at you.

“C-can I kiss you?” She asks softly. You freeze for a moment.

“I-I’m still… I mean, the past few days are still—” You begin to stutter.

“It’s okay, baby.” She whispers. “Please don’t rush yourself, take your time.”

She settles for taking your hand on her face between both of hers and giving it the lightest of kisses. You smile before she speaks again.

“I’ll wait forever.”

author’s notes:

absolutely insane how long this one-shot turned out to be. it was supposed to be much, much shorter but oops. thank you for being patient with me.

reader’s moon pin is in third quarter (or just a half moon) because third quarter moon is supposed to represent forgiveness and revisiting past actions and etc. thought it was fitting :)

the part where reader wakes up in the cage is supposed to mirror when ellie was captured by david in the first game, so if it sounds familiar, that's why

the cult leader's name is ian simply because i have an ex-boyfriend whose name is ian and i hate his guts, it was fun to name a bad guy after him

love you all, promise i’ll work on ncty soon. just dealing with a lot of shit in my personal life rn (yes a lot of it is shit with my ex shut up), so just keep being patient with me if y’all can ♡︎

taglist: @spaceshipellie, @ximtiredx, @jajsnjz, @sawaagyapong, @beforeimdeceased, @carmellie, @thatgiraffefromtlou, @elliesplaylist, @p1llowthoughtss, @lonelyfooryouonly, @machetegirl109, @herdelreydear, @elliesnumber1gf, @ellies-tatoo, @eleactric

[angel-of-the-moons]

Cycles

Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader

TW/Content Warnings: NSFW, Smut, PIV Sex, Heat/Rut Cycles, Territorial, bit of Feral!Miguel, improper use of webs, pheromones, hormones, predator/prey dynamic if you squint, Unprotected Sex, Biting, Scratching, Bondage(?), Breeding Kink (c'mon we all know Miguel has one), established relationship, boyfriend/girlfriend, rough sex, oral sex, blowjob

MINORS DNI: I am not responsible for the content that you are about to read/consume, if you are upset by the themes in this fic, do not read it and scroll on by!

A/N: For context, you are a Spider-Woman who is one of (maybe the only) the few Spiders who have similar powers to Miguel. This is my first Miguel x Reader fic I've ever written, and my first fic ever posted here on Tumblr! (Header does not indicate reader's race)

Earth 7164. New York. Middle of summer.

The scent hit him the moment he tore through the portal. A heavy, sweet, earthy scent that flooded his whole body with a rush of adrenaline. Even the fat droplets of summer rain that fell from the dingy skyline did little to diminish that delicious, mouth watering scent.

Your scent.

His body was trembling as he rolled his shoulders in an attempt to rid himself of the tension that roped its way through his heavy muscles. His talons flexed as he gritted his teeth, each drag of his lungs pulling your scent into his body.

Miguel O'Hara was a man who would claim he had a good sense of control over his urges. He would also say he was a good boyfriend, attentive. A bit protective (some would say possessive).

But, he had been neglecting you as of late, his duties in the Spider Society and ensuring the safety of the universe had kept him away from you these past few weeks, and he almost lost track until he felt that familiar boiling of his blood, an itch that he knew could only be scratched by you.

And he knew that you would be experiencing a similar situation to him, almost parallel. In fact, he surmised you were probably the only Spider who had similar powers. The only difference was that whereas Miguel's powers were (sort of) intentional, and other Spiders were given to them after being bitten by radioactive spiders... You were born like this. They didn't know why. Hell, you didn't know why.

You had the venom (you could consciously control how much you pumped out in every bite), you had your own talons (although yours were a part of your nails, not in the pads of his fingers and toes), the wall crawling abilities, natural web-shooting...

And your cycle. At first having you around was torture on his senses when it would roll around. It would start with your scent changing; the dampness he picked up from between your legs making the blood rush straight to his dick. More often than he'd like he'd have to excuse himself to his private lab to jerk himself off until he felt some of his clarity return.

But it was always just a temporary relief. It only got worse when your breeding cycle and his rut cycle synced up, resulting in the two of you needing to almost be sedated and kept away from each other. (How Lyla kept that under wraps, Miguel never knew.)

And once your dynamic shifted and you started seeing each other, and eventually getting intimate... well. He was positive that Jess or Peter suspected what was up... Especially when he would disappear to your universe for a week or so, only to come back in a slightly better mood, small dark patches peeking out from beneath the collar of his suit, or you would be walking funny or unable to sit comfortably.

Right now, though, those thoughts were shoved to the back of his mind. The only thing he could think of was you. He could smell you, taste you in the air. This was your territory, and he... Could be considered an intruder, depending on your mood.

A male spider waltzing into a pissed off and horny female spider's web during breeding season.

Shaking his head, he took another deep drag of the air around him, the smell of the city mixing with your earthy, almost fruity tones. Your scent was faded slightly, but he could still use it to track you beneath the smog, garbage, and vehicle exhaust.

It's not like he didn't know where your apartment was... But he knew during this period of time you'd be restless, irritable, angry.

And mind-numbingly horny.

Miguel launched himself up, slinging his wrist out and using his glowing webs to propel himself in between the buildings and skyscrapers; leaping, flipping, arching through the sky in a red-and-blue blur.

He knew he was closing in on you. Your scent was all but strangling him, choking the air and what little sanity he was clinging to right out of him.

He should have known you were waiting.

Miguel was rammed into with the speed of a runaway train, the oxygen he so desperately needed ripped from his lungs as he tumbled with a roll onto the rooftop below, landing on all fours as his talons dug into the concrete and tar, leaving deep grooves as he slowed himself.

He lifted his gaze to see you land in front of him, chest heaving, body trembling.

"I have been waiting for you, for almost two weeks." You wheezed out.

"Hell of a way to greet me, querida." Miguel grunted, pulling himself to his feet.

Beneath your mask, he knew your eyes immediately dragged down to the hard bulge pressing against his suit, the hard outline of it sending a fresh throb of arousal straight to your core.

"The kick was a bit much." He said, trying to maintain a professional composure.

But his control was quickly slipping.

"Shut the fuck up."

The short rebuke didn't surprise him.

"Should have been here days ago." Miguel said, swallowing hard at the lump in his throat. "I know that. But--"

You cut him off by lunging at him, hurling your full weight onto him and pinning him down beneath you.

The heat between your legs felt like it melted through his suit, burning the skin beneath and causing a fever to spread.

You raised your fist to bring it down on his face but his reflexes allow him to catch it, gripping you like a steel vice. His other hand gripped your thigh as he planted his feet on the rooftop, rolling to pin you beneath him, his massive frame caging you in.

He squeezed your hips between his thighs, muscles tensing and twitching, breathing heavy. Your free hand reached out and clawed at him, tearing at his suit, leaving a rainbow of glitched out fabric behind, small droplets of blood rushing forth to drip down his tanned skin.

He gritted his teeth at the sensation, the sweet burn sending another wave of heat through his body that made his cock twitch.

You were past talking, past negotiating and being civil. You knew what you wanted, and you wanted it now.

You breathed heavily, gritting your teeth as Miguel gripped your thigh and forced your knee by your head, squeezing the plushest part as his face dragged down to the dark patch soaking through the fabric of your suit.

Using this new position, you kicked at him square in his chest and threw him off of you.

Before he could right himself, you rolled to your feet and jumped off the roof, shooting a web to sling you away from him.

Sure, you were horny and wanted to ride his cock til he couldn't see straight for a month. But he had been gone for weeks and you had been struggling with your own self-care, your measley silicone toys and vibrators barely able to compare with that womb-punching length that Miguel crammed into you, or his skillful and knowledgeable hands rubbing you until your eyes rolled back. But right now, you were pissed.

He wanted your pussy? He was going to have to work for it.

And if that meant playing your cat and mouse game for an hour, building the anticipation and making his cock leak; aching, desperate for a taste of you? So be it.

You played this game for a while, teasing him, getting within arms reach before yanking yourself away at the last possible second, thwarting his attempts to catch you.

Sometimes you liked to play with your food.

But all games come to an end. And this one had an abrupt ending when Miguel headed you off, tackling you to the roof of some abandoned warehouse, pinning you down on your belly, hands above your head.

"Bout fucking time I caught you. Tu pequeño bromista.." (You little tease.) He snarled, leaning down to your ear as his mask dissipated from his head, letting his wavy chocolate hair fall free, damp strands plastering themselves to his forehead.

His eyes were wild, red and glowing; pupils blown wide.

"Fuck you." You hiss, squirming under him.

"Oh, sucederá en, no te preocupes." (Oh, don't worry, it will happen.)

Miguel raised his free hand and brought it down hard on your ass, making you bite your lip to contain the mewl that tried to claw its way out of your throat.

"Look at you, now, hermosa." He sneered, his chest huffing in a small, humorless laugh. "I can fucking smell you from a mile off."

He reached down and cupped your mound, his fingers squishing slightly in the damp fabric of your suit; but once again you deny him a moan, instead biting into your lip, fangs threatening to puncture your lip.

You squirm an arm free and go to elbow him in the face, get him off of you. (Or under you.)

But he predicted that. That's what always got you going when you were in the middle of your cycle. You liked it rough.

His large hand completely encircled your elbow and forced your arm back down. Quickly, he used his glowing, laser-webs to secure your wrists together before he gripped the fabric of your suit with his talons, shredding it as he yanked you over so you were on your back.

Miguel smiled and yanked your mask off of your head, tossing it to the side before gripping your chin with his fingers, putting enough pressure to keep your eyes on his.

"Now... What should I do with you?" He said contemplatively, tapping your cheek with his index finger, making a show of thinking, his eyes dragging over the flushed features on your face, your tongue darting out to wet your dry lips.

"Ah. That's it." He grinned, his slightly askew teeth gleaming in the dark. He grips you by the front of your torn suit and pulls you to your knees as he stands.

He grips the crotch of his suit, and rips at it with his talons, the torn edges doing that kaleidoscopic glitch of colors as his cock springs free from its confines; large, twitching, angry red tip leaking in excitement.

You have to bite your tongue to keep in your little groan, your heart soaking through and dripping out through your suit.

"Hmh." He grunted, annoyed. "I'll loosen your fucking mouth. I've been keeping myself under control this whole time. But now? I'm not going to be gentle."

He gripped your hair, just shy of painful as he dragged your head to his crotch, the tip of his cock smearing his precum across your cheek.

"Chúpalo." (Suck it.)

You finally give in, your hands bound in your lap as you drag your tongue along a prominent vein in the velvety skin of his shaft, earning a deep, rumbling groan from him that you swore sent vibrations straight to your cunt, making you flutter around nothing.

You pull your head back and swirl your tongue around the tip, pulling and tugging as you lap at his slit, eagerly tasting every drop of pre he was giving you before diving in and taking the rest of his tip in your mouth, bobbing your head in a steady rhythm.

He massaged your scalp, his talons tickling the skin under your hair as he encouraged you to continue.

But you knew his calm demeanor wasn't going to last. It wasn't long before he grabbed at your hair with both hands, forcing you to choke down on his length, just shy of blocking off your airway as he fucked your face, the tension and stress from your cat and mouse game coming out as his tip kept shoving at your throat, your nose brushing the dark curly hairs at the base, his balls slapping your chin with every thrust; saliva pooling around his length as you keep your fangs pulled back as you let him use your throat like a fleshlight.

You close your jaw microscopically, fangs grazing the flesh.

"Míralo!" (Watch it!) He reprimanded, pulling your hair roughly to pull you back, his cock springing out of your lips with a wet pop, saliva connecting the tip with the soft pink muscle in your mouth like a weak bridge.

"Be a good girl." He snarled, pulling you back down on his length, barely letting you catch your breath before forcing you all the way down, tears welling up in your eyes and falling down your cheeks as you choked and gagged.

You knew exactly how to lick, suck, and tug at his cock to get the best reactions, the most delicious sounds from him.

You snuck a glance up at him, watching as he tipped his head back with a throaty groan as you greedily swallowed him down.

You moaned around him; his cock throbbed.

You felt him twitch, felt his hips sputter as he gritted his teeth.

"Fuckin' close." He snarled, looking down at you as your eyes connected with his feral ones.

You rocked your clothed cunt on your heel, trying desperately to get some friction to your aching clit. Miguel caught this motion, and held you down on his cock, choking you from not letting you ease off.

"You're not allowed to touch yourself." He said through gritted teeth, pulling your head back with a harsh tug, letting you get a gulp of air before voraciously fucking your mouth again. You obeyed his command, sitting in your slick that was dripping down and out of you, your folds puffy and neglected.

"Fuck..." He breathed heavily, he could feel that burn, that coil about to snap, his blood boiling and rushing straight to the tip of his dick as he felt his balls draw tight.

You moaned softly around him, gagging slightly before that rush of heat flooded your mouth as you worked your throat to swallow every last drop of the load he was feeding you.

Miguel panted, dragging some much needed air in his lungs as he let you pull back, hacking and coughing as your airways flooded with oxygen again. You grin maliciously and bite down on his thigh. No venom of course, but just enough to remind him you were there, earning you a sharp glare and a slap to the back of your head as you licked your lips.

He ran a hand through his hair, and it wasn't but a moment later before he yanked you to your feet, and shoved his tongue past your lips to overpower yours, tasting his cum lingering on your breath as his heavy rut-scent flooded your nose. You moaned shamelessly into the kiss, biting and tugging at each others lips until a burst of cooper flooded your mouth.

Miguel pulled away and licked at his bloody lip, before his mouth twisted into a snarl. He barreled into you, forcing you against a rooftop air-conditioning unit.

His hand reached down as he ripped at your suit, your breasts bouncing free.

Of course you weren't wearing a fucking bra. Probably no panties either. Because you were just that fucking horny and desperate.

He leaned down and took one of your pebbling nipples in his mouth, biting and sucking roughly as you push your head back against the unit, the metal bumping as you do, a strangled cry coming from you.

He pulled back, before delving back down and putting the same torture on your other tit. This time however he pulled back, biting down on the marshmallowy flesh, making you mewl out as his tongue laves over the mark he made.

"Miguel!" You snarl, thrashing your leg to kick at him, your frustration and neglect finally getting to you.

Miguel caught your flailing lim and forced it up, pinning it against the air-conditioning unit with another shot of his webs, before securing your already bound hands with more, above your head.

He pressed his forehead against yours, his hot and heavy breath ghosting over your sweaty skin, before his hands once again swiped and gripped at your cunt, pawing at it like a cat kneading a blanket.

Miguel lazily dragged two fingers torturously slow up your slit, before punching your clit hard through the fabric.

"You've been misbehaving... But I know you're just going to keep acting out until I give you what you want." Miguel sneered into your ear.

You whimpered, arching into his touch as he pulled away, making a frustrated sob at the lack of contact.

You nearly had the air punched out of your lungs when Miguel dropped to his knees, inhaling the scent of your soaked pussy like it was a drug he needed a hit of. He opened his mouth and dragged his tongue up the soaked fabric, before latching on and sucking.

Now this was new. Getting eaten out through the fabric of your clothes. There was too much contact but somehow not enough as he rutted his nose at your clit, sucking more at your folds drawing more of your slick through the fabric.

You thrashed against his webs, trying so hard to roll your hips and fuck his face, but with the way you were pinned, you were at his mercy, especially when he hoisted your free leg over his shoulder. He pressed two fingers against your covered hole as he furiously suckled your clit.

Your orgasm crashed into you so hard you couldn't even manage a scream, your mouth just hung open on a silent cry, eyes rolling back as a fresh gush of slick leaked through your suit.

Miguel smiled against you and tore your suit's crotch open, and you shivered as the humid, summer air made contact with your slick and creamy folds. You barely had a second to realize what was happening before Miguel plunged back in, his nose rutting your clit once more as I sucked at your cream, your slick covering his chin.

Miguel was the best sexual partner you ever had, he knew exactly how to eat you out to the point you lost your voice without even using it.

Just as your second orgasm was creeping up on you, he pulled his mouth away, wiping his face clean with the back of his hand and licking his chops like a dog eyeing a juicy stake.

His cock bobbed against his stomach as he stood, a steady stream of precum dribbling out of the tip and to the ground below.

He pulled your free leg to wrap around his waist as he slid the underside of his cock against your puffy cunt.

Miguel bit down on your shoulder, hard as he forced himself into you with one brutal thrust, pushing the air out of your lungs as he punched your guts through your womb with his cock, spearing you wide as he set a rapid, relentless pace for the both of you.

You uttered breathless pleas, praises, and incoherent mumblings with each thrust; the two of you grunting and moaning in each others ears like rabid animals, Miguel's cock slamming home into your pussy, squelching, dripping, the slap of skin and hips colliding filling the very atoms around you.

Your body screamed, cried, ached for him to fuck you, fill you up to the brim.

Miguel's tip crammed against your cervix in such a brutal way that you swore he bullied himself into your womb with every thrust. It was a blossoming pain that bled into pleasure, quickly bringing you back to the edge of your second orgasm that he had denied you.

"That's it, baby." Miguel snarled in your ear. "Ah... So tight for me. You want me?"

You nodded, whimpering and sobbing into his shoulder.

"Want me to fuck you til you can't walk for a week? Stretch you til all you can think of is my cock?" He said, his voice edging on a gleeful tone as he pants, turning his head and licking at the sweat on your neck.

"Want me to fucking breed you?"

You bite into his shoulder at that, whimpering as his suit glitches around your fangs and you lick at the blood welling up.

He hissed, and his pace became frantic, almost angry as he reaches down and pinches your clit like before, and your orgasm comes flooding through every blood vessel in your body as you jerk mindlessly against him, your pussy crushing down on him, milking him for everything he can give you.

He moans loudly in your ear, snapping his hips up into yours, balls slapping your ass as you cry out, sobs wracking your chest as your vision blurs and the tension rips out of you.

You whimper, and hiccup against him when he forces himself into you one last time, his tip kissing that oh so lovely spot inside as he pumps his heavy and sticky load deep inside your pussy, dripping out of you with each jagged thrust as he fucks you through his orgasm.

When Miguel's hips still, his hand pets at your hair as he kisses your jaw, nipping the skin there as he slices the webs holding your legs and hands up.

"Mmmmh. I needed that." Miguel sighed into your hair.

You grunted in response, your fists gripping at his suit as you pull him down for a hungry and toothy kiss.

"Take me home and fuck me." You demanded.

All Miguel could do was smile, and carry you back to your apartment. The real trick was keeping his cock sheathed inside of you as he swung from building to building, trying to avoid anybody who may have a camera phone...

But honestly? You didn't care.

However...

The two of you did care, a few weeks later.

When two little pink lines appeared on the stick in your hand.

"Fuck."

[swiftyangx12]

Oh! Do you know some species of spiders also perform certain rituals to get a potential mate, especially that involves with dancing?

[Funnel Web w/ Miguel O’Hara blurb]

Imagine Miguel O’Hara being occupied with his work at the Spider Society and hasn’t been taking any breaks since he first got to his lair/office.

Then imagine Spider![Reader], who just came in with some files and carrying a tray of coffee orders. They want to surprise the Big Boss with his usual Black Coffee and something to nibble on. As they got to his area, [Reader] greeted him with a “Good Morning!” and Miguel replied back, “Mornin’” as he still faces the screens.

They shot their webbing up on his platform and zip themselves up while still carefully holding the drinks. Still, even when [Reader] by exactly by Miguel’s presence, he doesn’t turn to look at them.

Spider![Reader]: I got your usual black coffee, and some pastries I found on my way here.

Miguel: *Still focus on his screens* Mhm…Thanks.

[Reader] places the coffee and other goods down by his desk and stood by him for some moments. Even waited a few minutes to see if he bothered to sip some of his morning brew. Then, an idea popped up.

Spider![Reader]: Psst. Miguel. Look at me.

Miguel: *Finally tears away his focus from his screens to [Reader]*

Spider![Reader]:

Apparently [Reader] learned from their Biology course about how male Peacock Jumping Spiders would perform a dance ritual to hopefully win their female counterparts as mates. If everything goes unsuccessfully, they’re sustenance at the end (it means they become food to the female spiders). However, the Spider variant Miguel “secretly” loves is attempting to distract him from overworking himself and also demanding attention.

Miguel: What are you doing?

Spider![Reader]: I’m trying to seduce my “potential mate” by dancing with all my heart’s content.

Miguel: *Chuckles* Amor, we been going out for a year now.

Spider![Reader]: *Sighs* I know. Jess told me you came in earlier than usual and she noticed you haven’t even taken a small break from monitoring the whole “Spiderverse”. I’m worried about you.

Miguel: Cariño, I’m sorry for worrying you.

Spider![Reader]: It’s okay, except for barely giving me attention this morning.

Miguel: [Reader]

Spider![Reader]: *Angrily Pouts*

Miguel: “Cute.” I’m sorry for not giving you the attention you deserve due to me being busy.

Spider![Reader]: And?

Miguel: I promise you a date to make up for my “negligence.”

Spider![Reader]: *Smiles happily* You’re forgiven.

Then the Spider couple spend the remaining morning enjoying their brews and treats while being in solace with each other’s company.

[Tagged]: @lazyjellyfish300 @mrsoharaa @msbidisaster @hao-ming-8 @greensagephase @kenjioharashotspot

[milliesfishes]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻 𝓖𝓲𝓻𝓵⋆౨ৎ˚⟡

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ [fem reader] contains: attempted kidnapping pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: billy meets a star girl author’s note: thank you my darling @phantomamor for talking ab this with me and helping me flesh out this world and the characters! MWAH I'm so excited for you all to read this <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

The city was buzzing, breathing life into what had formerly been a word on a map to Billy. Beings of every species imaginable were conversing, haggling over prices and gossiping amongst themselves. It was impossible to stand still without touching anyone.

Billy's pockets were newly lined with the reward of his latest bounty, not as much as he would have liked for his efforts, but something, nonetheless. When he was newer to this line of work, maybe it would have put a spring in his step. Maybe he'd have even whistled, allowing himself a look at the shiny blasters arranged at the nearby table, maybe even considering buying one.

But today his spirits were lowered, melancholy even. His boots trudged along the dusty footprints of those who'd walked before him, hands shoved in his pockets. He ignored the call of surrounding merchants, letting their voices blend into the hum.

It was the same thing over and over again. He'd find some treasure long prized by a pawn dealer, risk his neck to locate it, and accept a measly price in return. Later today he'd fork over a portion to Jesse, the price for using the gang's name to secure better offers. And then the cycle would repeat.

It was a baseless existence. Flying all over the galaxy, getting his hands on things others deemed precious. It was funny- it all looked so important on the pages of a book, but not once when he held it in person did it feel that way. As far as he was concerned, it was terribly unimportant, faint relics destined for a life on the shelf. He almost felt bad removing them from their natural states. Every gem, every weapon...it felt like robbing a grave.

Clumping down the road until he emerged from the mouth of the crowd, Billy stopped for a moment, leaning against the brick of a building close at hand. On a normal night he'd go to the bar, but right now it seemed unappealing. The last thing he needed was a drink. He supposed he could return to his ship and retire early for the night. Goodness knew he didn't get enough sleep as it was.

Standing up straight, Billy was about to make his way back in the direction of his ship when a peculiar sound caught his ear.

"Excuse me sir...I need to get past..."

"Pretty little thing. C'mon sweetheart..."

Immediately Billy turned sharply, searching for the source. He took a step forward, ducking his head around the corner into an alleyway. The sight before him nearly made his blood boil.

A man, clearly heavily intoxicated, grasping the arm of a young woman. Billy couldn't tell what species she was from first glace, but she looked remarkably human from here. In the soft glow of the sunset, he could see the shine of her hair. There was a glow that seemed to brighten her from the inside out, as if her heart was made of light. Her eyes were wide, fear pooling in the centers.

You stared up at your captor, struggling slightly. "Please. Just let me go."

"Ain't lettin' one of your kind slip past," the man spat. Billy winced- he could practically feel his hot, liquor tainted breath from here. "Damn star people."

It hit Billy like a shot to the stomach, his body stiffening as he realized it. Your glow. You weren't human at all.

Star people were rare to see, especially in a place as godless as this. Said to have been born from the heavens themselves, star people were a legend lilted from the lips of bounty hunters far and wide across the galaxy. The blood coursing through their veins wasn't crimson, but golden, and it ran for a price that was enough to set a man up for life. The species made themselves scarce due to this fact.

When Billy was learning the art of the hunt, he'd accompanied a man seasoned on the market, seeking a rare plant with silver berries going for a decent price. It had confused him when they hunted down a man with a golden luster and tied him down instead of scouring the nearby forest. He assumed they were going to question him about the location of the plant, let him go when he'd given up such trusted information.

But instead, his companion drew a knife, turning to Billy with a hungry look in his eyes. "Watch 'n learn Kid. Always seize the opportunity for a better bounty."

Much to Billy's horror, the knife came down on the golden man's skin, drawing forth a spurt of shining liquid. He was paralyzed watching him bleed out, his inside life force collected by someone so overtaken by greed that he failed to realize the awful thing he was doing.

The memory of the star person's face as he died had haunted Billy ever since he witnessed it. It was the reason he'd never collected a living bounty since. And it was the reason his feet were moving forward now, straight into the alleyway. His hands tore the man away from you, shoving him aside. His body hit the ground with a heavy thump, buying you some time. Billy extended a hand to you. "Come with me. Before he gets up."

You shrank back a bit, the sight of another man so close likely terrifying. Billy winced at the swiftness of his actions, but he emphasized his hand. "It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you."

In the dim light, Billy could see the golden sheen filling your body with light, the freckles dotting your arms like a sun had kissed them. There were strands of gold woven into your hair, making you appear nearly unreal. And suddenly the notion of you being descended from the stars didn't seem so impossible.

Slowly, you set your fingers in the palm of his hand, your soft touch igniting something in him, a conflagration that reached from his toes to his hairline. When he looked into your eyes, he could have sworn they were glowing.

Carefully, he led you out of the alleyway, back into the streets, which were emptying with each strain of darkness that settled in. Your breathing was slowing down as you followed him, shoes barely making a sound on the cobblestone ground.

There was a loud clatter behind you that sounded suspiciously like a blaster falling from a holster, and Billy squeezed your hand without thinking. "Quick-run!"

Almost akin to a doe, you started sprinting with him, surroundings becoming a blur. Your skirt trailed behind you, the pale color of it making it look like you were being followed by mist. It and your top were of light iridescence, shimmering as you hurried along beside him. It was mesmerizing how gracefully you ran, and it made him feel a hundred pounds heavier as his boots clomped alongside your slippers.

There were string lights swooping over the gap in the streets, twinkling like your eyes. You both came to an abrupt stop once you turned a corner, panting for breath. Your hand was still engulfed in his, and he didn't complain when you kept hold.

Turning his face to you, Billy was expecting distress, tears even. But your expression was elated. Shoulders rising up and down, your eyes caught on his, the sight of your smile making him feel as though he was watching the sunrise. "Do you think he was even chasing us?" A breathy giggle trailed after your words like fairy dust.

Billy couldn't help his own chuckle bubbling from his lips. "Better safe than sorry."

Putting your free hand to your heart, you took in a deep breath, watching him warmly. "Thank you for rescuing me. He's been following me all night and I made a mistake in where I went to try and lose him."

"My pleasure." Billy tipped his hat. It was a product of his upbringing more than anything, but he imagined even the worst of scoundrels would find themselves gentlemen in your presence.

He was endeared when you lifted the sides of your skirt, sweeping a foot delicately behind your ankle and bowing your head. "Twas good of you anyways, sir."

"Billy." He was grinning.

"Billy." You said it so lightly, so curiously, and he wanted to exile his name from everyone else's mouth. In sweet tones, you told him your name too. Your identifying word could have been anything and he would have found it beautiful simply because it was attached to you.

Taking in a breath as fine as spun silk, you said, "I truly do appreciate what you did. Not everyone would have." The luscious curtain of your hair fell over your shoulder as you leaned in, and the ambrosial scent of you filled his nose. Every detail of you was coming to light, enhancing you when he thought he'd already viewed perfection. Billy was no purveyor of the arts, but you were a masterpiece.

You were close enough that he could see every freckle that dotted the smooth plane of your face, and their gold color. The beads of your top kissed your arms like droplets of water. Even as the night settled upon the world, your skin glimmered, every shining strand of hair winking at him like a call to reach out and touch. He was sure that you would melt under his roughened fingers if he did.

Remembering himself, he cleared his throat, nodding once. "Maybe not everyone knows what's right."

Something changed in your eyes, and he saw a flicker, a flame in your irises. Suddenly he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away, like both your hearts were magnets yearning to connect. Pushing your hair over a shoulder, your eyelashes fluttered as you peered up at him. He was unsure if it was your heavenly origins that were drawing him in, or if it was you. "Can I walk you back home?" The sentence slipped from his mouth before he could regulate it, his body's natural instinct to be near you for longer.

Even the littlest hint of your smile was dazzling. Your head bobbed up and down, and you squeezed his hand lightly. "I'd like that."

Oh how he would thank the heavens later.

The cosmos were brimming with eternal wonders that burned at their edges, gathering in the dark side of every moon and hiding in the shadow of the rings of silvery planets. Billy had been far and wide across the space of the galaxy, seen things man could never dream up. But never had he been so captivated by anything as you.

Your coppery aura enveloped him like an aphrodisiac, crashing over him and rebounding like the waters of some lost ocean. He was tethered to even the mere idea of you.

You chattered as he walked with you to your residence, and he felt like he was listening to a song. Your being seemed to not only decorate space, but time, and he'd lose a thousand hours in your presence if he could.

"I haven't lived here for long," you explained when he asked, eager to hear you talk about yourself. "I travel between planets, seek passage wherever I can find it. Travelling is my favorite thing." You smiled, seeming to lift off your feet at the thought. "What brings you around here?"

"For work," he said, tearing his eyes away from you to look ahead. Feathered creatures were flying low between string lights, the buzz from earlier dulled to a quiet hum. "I find things for folks who want 'em. 'n they pay me to do it. The last buyer was here."

"You're a treasure hunter?" you asked, delighted by the idea. He exhaled softly, smile growing. Treasure hunter sounded much better than bounty hunter.

He nodded, looking back at you. "Yeah. 'xactly. I find pretty things that folks wanna have."

"So you get to go all over the place," you mused, swaying slightly as you walked like a willow in the breeze. "It must be so wonderful."

"It's exciting, sure," he commented, scratching the back of his head. It was beguiling how much interest you were taking in him, in what he did. Nobody had ever done that before.

You chewed on your bottom lip, pace slowing as you seemed to think of something. Lifting your eyes to his, you let go of his hand and asked, "Does anyone ever want to have something like me?" The question was delivered quietly, with a sense of dismay Billy wanted to scrub from the air. You didn't deserve to ever have to feel such harrowing emotions.

He held your gaze, the reality of the situation seeming to gamble with his feelings. Would you want to talk to him after learning what he was, what people in his occupation did? "Yeah," he found himself saying. "But I ain't in that kinda business."

"You're not?" Conduct lightening again, you held a spark of hope in the vision of you.

"I don't go after anythin' livin'. It's cruel," he assured you, searching your eyes. "Others do. But not me."

There it was again, that divine smile that Billy wanted burnt into his eyes. You took his hand again, resuming walking, and he felt something warm him on the inside. "I'm glad. I'm glad that you don't."

"Me too," he agreed, enjoying the weight of your hand in his. It was almost like you didn't realize the significance of the gesture, like you were doing it simply because it felt nice. There was nothing but innocence attached.

It was blissful just walking with you, watching you point out different things around. You were enthralled by every facet of your surroundings, enchanted by the littlest things. It was adorable- the way you'd gasp and lift a gold-tinted fingernail, the object of your fascination ranging from bugs to buildings. It only made you more wholly beautiful, and he wished the walk was longer.

When the sky was completely black, you stopped in your tracks, another little gasp of the variety he'd grown to love passing your lips. "There they are!"

He followed your gaze up, to where the stars were blinking in patterns stretching far and wide, limbs that glittered in the same wondrous way you did. You lifted a hand in a wave that melted his heart, beaming up at the glinting little spheres. "They're my family. I wave at them every night to let them know I'm okay."

Your words were anointed with a reverence artfully arranged. Billy watched you for a moment. "Hope they're okay with me takin' you home."

"They're very grateful that you've kept me safe," you insisted, squeezing his hand gently. He was stabilized by you, held to the ground. If you left the planet, his gravity would be gone and he would float out into the sky with nary a worry except that he wouldn't pass you on his way through space.

The effect of you had to be alchemistic, a mercurial drug crafted specifically to wrench him in like prey to predator. But you were in front of him, soft and sweet with no possible hint of danger. And Billy felt as though he'd been knocked over the head, seeing an illusion borne of his own loneliness. Though anything of that manner would have faded by now. You remained in his line of sight, roseate and sparkling as only a descendant of the heavens could.

The two of you had reached the edge of the forest, the cobblestone street fading into rich brown earth. You were glowing ever so slightly, enough to distinguish you as extraordinary, and he felt as though he was in a dream, trailing behind you as a shadow.

Stopping there, you turned to him, a darling smile seeming to brighten your light. "Thank you again. For walking me home. And for helping me out."

"'s no problem, sweet." The term of endearment slipped out, and he cursed himself for the half a second before you smiled.

"It was nice," you started, and he found himself hanging onto every word, every breath you exhaled. "To talk to someone who wasn't wanting something else from me." Your doe eyes were boring a hole into him, and he would have disintegrated into dust.

"I liked talkin' to you too," he said, hearing the awe he'd felt all night with you creep into his words. "D'ya...d'ya think I'll see you 'round here again?"

"If it's written in the stars," you smiled, letting go of his hand. With one last look at him, you disappeared through the trees in the blink of an eye, soft glow visible through the mess of branches, then fading into the distance like a candle burning out.

For a moment, all Billy could do was stand there, grinning like a fool. He hadn't even known he was capable of feeling as strongly as he had when you were around. He'd held the hand of a fallen star. A daughter of celestial magnitude.

Chuckling in disbelief, he only turned around when your glow was swallowed by the forest, never dimming, just hidden like a light under a bushel. His steps were meandering, and he retraced his footsteps, drunk on the memory of you. Oh, wouldn't it be nice if he saw you again?

It wasn't every day a star girl smiled at him.

Next Part

[kieranvalentinesboyfriend]

Sam Winchester and Themes of Sexual Assault, Bodily Autonomy and Impurity

Sam Winchester from the hit 2005 CW show Supernatural is a much overlooked character, by fans and the story itself. Despite being one of the main characters in the show he and his problems are often sidelined in order to make room for more popular characters like Dean and Castiel. This leads to a lot of his problems not being taken seriously and played as jokes by both the show itself and the fandom. Sam’s entire story is deeply routed in themes of bodily autonomy, sexual assault and the resulting feelings of impurity. However these themes are often sidelined and played as jokes due to him being a man.


The theme of sexual assault is shown very early on in the show, staring with Sam’s encounter with the demon Azazel (often referred to as “Yellow Eyes”). In the show Sam and Dean’s mother, Mary Winchester makes a deal with Azazel in order to bring her husband back to life, thus giving him “permission” to do what he wants in 10 years. This choice culminates in a 6-month old Sam being fed demon blood by Azazel, thus starting the pattern of Sam being groomed in one way or another by almost everyone in his life. Mary walks in on Azazel and Sam, leading to her death which sparks John Winchester into his obsessive hunting for the demon that killed Mary. The implications of this scene are made abundantly clear in the later interactions between Sam and Azazel where the latter refers to what happened between them as “their little secret.” Azazel also implicates Sam in his mother’s death through the line “she walked in on us.” This line is a blatant innuendo and forces Sam to place even more blame upon himself than John did. Sam’s attitude towards this whole encounter is one of clear disgust and shame which is shown when Sam says “So he could bleed in my mouth.” This line especially implies CSA (child sexual assault) as it shows just how little agency Sam has had over his life.

These themes continue throughout the series as both Sam and Dean have suggestive remarks made towards them by various supernatural creatures. One example of this in the first episode when the woman in white attempts to force herself on Sam in order to make him become unfaithful to Jess. While this is brushed off very quickly in the show, it sets a precedent for the tonality of the show regarding sexual assault towards its main characters and Sam in particular. This comes up again in a scene where the demon Meg has both of the brothers tied up but focuses specifically on Sam, making suggestive comments towards him and touching him inappropriately. He looks extremely uncomfortable throughout this entire exchange. Sam is then possessed by Meg in a later episode, with possession being used as a metaphor for sexual assault throughout the show, especially in relation to Sam, she then uses Sam’s body to harm his family and friends, making suggestive and threatening comments to them while doing so. In fact, most of Sam’s romantic and sexual interactions with female characters are non-consensual on his end. While these are all played for laughs because of Sam being a man, they are horrifying when looked at through any other point of view. An important example of this is the character Becky Rosen and her interactions with Sam; when Sam asks Becky to stop groping him it’s played entirely for laughs despite Sam looking immensely uncomfortable. In a season 7 episode Becky drugs Sam with a love potion, strips him half naked and ties him to her bed. This is often referred to as a funny episode both in the show and by the fandom, further cementing how the show refuses to acknowledge Sam’s trauma.

The themes of impurity due to CSA and grooming reappear during season 4 when Sam is in a relationship with the demon Ruby. She, in a way heavily reminiscent of Azazel encourages Sam to drink her blood in order to gain powers or so she tells him. To me, this entire relationship had the opportunity to explore Sam’s trauma in a creative and interesting way, and despite not doing this, Sam and Ruby’s relationship still portrays many interesting themes such as addiction being used as coping mechanism and the desire to take back agency after being assaulted. Through Ruby’s encouragement of Sam’s consumption of demon blood, he forms an addiction and starts to associate demon blood with sex, something that had the groundwork laid for it when he was a child. This plot line is especially interesting to me as it seems to be heavily reminiscent of the way many trauma survivors seek to have the same or similar experiences on their own terms as a way of taking back control from their abusers. Throughout Sam’s relationship with Ruby he is being groomed into opening Lucifer’s cage and letting him, thus giving way to the next important theme in Sam’s story: his lack of bodily autonomy and feeling like his body is not his own.

Themes of bodily autonomy play heavily in season 5 when Sam is pressured by everyone around him into giving up his body to Lucifer in order to bring about the end of the world. Eventually he does do this, using the last of his mental power to throw Lucifer back into the cage, thus resulting in both of them being trapped inside. Sam’s body is then brought back to life, leaving his soul to be tortured in the cage by Lucifer. It’s heavily implied that Sam was also raped during this year with Lucifer. When Sam’s soul is reunited with his body, he beings to hallucinate Lucifer and being back in the cage, with the only way to stop these hallucinations being to cause himself pain. This is once again played as a joke by the show, making Lucifer a funny and charming character, subsequently meaning that the fans perceive him as a likeable character, once again causing everyone to sideline Sam’s trauma. Another instance of Sam’s bodily autonomy being ripped away from him is when Dean helps the angel Galadriel trick Sam into letting him possess Sam. I’m in no way attempting to apply blame to Dean as he was also tricked, however he also trivialises his brother’s experience in a particularly shocking exchange after Sam managed to get Galadriel out of him. Sam says that Galadriel left some of himself behind but Cas fixed everything up, Dean then makes a joke saying that it sounded like an episode of teen moms; this conversation further displays the way that no one in the narrative takes Sam’s trauma seriously.

In conclusion, Sam Winchester constantly has his bodily autonomy taken away from him in many different ways throughout the show. He also has his struggles and feeling of impurity trivialised and played for laughs by the writers, actors and fandom. He is referred to as a freak and abomination due to his trauma and never has any of his problems resolved in any meaningful way. Sam Winchester could have been a much better character if he was not so overlooked and joked about.

[momojedi]

Headcanon: Being Shaak Ti’s padawan would include …

Type: Headcanons; GN! Reader Character(s): Shaak Ti, 501st, 212th, Wolfpack, Bad Batch, Omega, Clones in general Notes: I like the concept of a story as Shaak Ti’s padawan, I was thinking about writing a reader-insert about it. Would you be interested?

Despite her reputation as an admirable Jedi Master, Shaak Ti’s views on attachments would probably be anything but respected by the Council.

Shaak Ti gets motherly feelings just by looking at the Cadets or Omega, so you better be ready because once this woman sets her eyes on her new padawan, your fate will pretty much sealed as her newly adopted child.

Whatever you accomplish, whether it may be small such as motivating yourself to get out of bed or teaching a cadet a trick up to striking down a clanker or saving a clone's life, she’ll be the proudest Togruta in the entire universe.

The clones? They adore you. Shaak Ti is the most respected Jedi among Kamino, maybe even the most adored person among the clones there overall. The troopers admire her treatment and kindness, seeing a parental figure in her, a mother they never had the chance to know. Whomever she likes must be just as lovable then!

As Shaak Ti's padawan, all of Tipoca City knows your name by now. Wherever you go, you'll be greeted by the troopers with a bright smile and once they stop at Kamino after a mission, you'll be one of the few things they'll look forward to.

By now, you can pretty much distinguish all legions for their own unique charisma and cooperation among each other.

The 501st is cheerful and humorous; despite their clumsy and chaotic temper, they work together flawlessly. You'll be swarmed with stories, jokes and even some flirtatious attempts on Jesse's & Fives' account, physical love language such as hugs and handshakes, pretty much treated like one of their own. The Domino Squad especially appreciate you, being one of the very first squads you'd had the chance to accompany. Captain Rex will not even dare to leave your side; he says it’s because he doesn’t want his brothers to overwhelm you but really, he just adores you just as much and feels a kind of safety being close to you.

The 212th on the other is a lot calmer and neat, greeting you politely like they would any commander, but with a warm, grateful undertone. Some, like Waxer and Boil, will even bring you something from their missions, little objects and snacks they found. You’ll have Cody sitting with you during lunch and exchange with him about what you’ve experienced while he was away while he tells you all about the silly moments he witnessed with General Kenobi.

The Wolfpack are like a pack of puppies seeing the master again. The second they see you, they will forget everything around them, all attention now on you, whimpering and whining until they’re dismissed by Wolffe and allowed greet you. Speaking of our favourite commander, he will stand quietly and wordlessly beside you like a guard dog, waiting until the coast is clear to let his guard down and warmly greet you himself.

When it comes to the more unique clone forces, such as the Bad Batch, they’ll likely be able to spend more time with you once they’re on Kamino simply because they’re so small in number. The moment the Marauder lands and the four troopers are off the shuttle, you’ll be squeezed in a tight hug by Wrecker as soon as he gets the chance to. Due to their unique nature and different way of life, the connection you’ll have formed to them will be much more personal and likely seen as mostly unorthodox but that doesn’t matter to them, nor to you or Shaak Ti. Surprisingly enough, sometimes you can even see the ghost of a smile flickering on Crosshair’s face when you approach him after their return from another tough mission. And that means something!

The time between helping out Shaak Ti with the clones’ training and supervising the cadets is usually spent with none other than Omega, Nala Se’s apprentice, who, just like you, tends to feel a bit out of place among all the troopers so it’s nice to exchange with someone who feels similarly every now and then. She sees you as a big sibling, someone she can trust her emotions with and you sincerely return those very feelings.

Seeing you interact so well and kindly with all the clones leaves your master’s heart swelling with joy. She really couldn’t ask for a better student.

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

Let's Talk Peter B

@iwasbored777 (Since you ask to be tagged)

Okay! I was on the fence about writing this post, but after doing this response and some encouragement, I decided that fuck it, let’s do this.

While I had seen multiple things about Gwen being a bad friend, a bad person, and other things I don’t want to say because I will start ranting- Peter B for the most part, has come out scotch free.

Don’t get me wrong, I had seen some people address his issues, but it has been a few posts in a sea of him with Mayday and people shipping with Miguel. Which hey, is okay with me, but when you see you a character you love be given the short end of the stick despite the circumstances yet another character that has much less to lose has their mistakes largely been ignored and basically be woobify.

Is not just Gwen, I had also seen people take beef with Jess as a mentor yet somehow leave Peter out of that conversation. Don’t get me wrong Jess is far from perfect (which is something I discussed before,) but again, Peter is far from perfect too.

Does this has to do with Peter being a beloved main character in the first movie? Yes. Does it also has to do with misogynoir and misogyny? Oh I don’t doubt it.

I don’t hate Peter B, far from it, I think he is a great adaptation of our spidey, and while I am not the biggest spiderman fan out there, I did grew up with Peter Parker in movies and cartoons so I do have love for this characters as well as his incarnation in Sony movies.

I will do my best to remain as unbiased and neutral as possible, but not gonna lie this entire thing is annoying me enough that I will say when I am aware of my own biases, as I always try to do.

But if you think liking a character stops me from calling them on their bullshit you are wrong.

I know this post is more about how Peter is with Miles and his role as a mentor, but I decided to address some other things I had seen people talk about because there is a reason I choose "Let's talk Peter B Parker" as a title.

Believe it or not, I am fine with this. Seriously.

Peter wasn’t here when Miles arrived, and considering they did a small tour and got an empanada on the way, I think wouldn’t be odd to say he wasn’t around when Miles arrived. My theory is that he was taking care of his own stuff, and once he knew that Miles was around, went to get Mayday to present her to Miles.

I think that’s pretty normal all things consider, he loves Miles and wouldn’t had fixed things with MJ and had his daughter without her, of course he would want the two of to met.

The enthusiasm is all things consider pretty sweet, and while I don’t approve of some things he does (like giving her a web shooter while being just a few months old?) Is one of those things that are part of superhero writing that has the children technically doing things that they shouldn’t be doing for their age, so I just let it slide because if I get hung up every time I see something like this, it would not end.

I’m the only one who is actually mad about this comment?

Yes, is a joke, I get that, and Peter is trying to take as much as steam off Miles by trying to frame him on the light that he messes up, but is just who he is.

It doesn’t make me any less annoyed.

For starters, I feel like I am rereading Percy Jackson again (No I will not explain that reference.) Because despite everyone more or less knowing what’s going on (Hobie said before he didn’t know what Miguel was hiding so how much he knows is unsure,) no one has attempted to explain the situation to Miles.

This is a trope I had seen enough (including WAY too many times in the books I mentioned,) and I really resent when characters act as if the protagonist or someone else is stupid just because they are unaware of something. ESPECIALLY if the characters saying so are aware they don’t know.

They are also letting him believe is a good thing he is in HQ, but that is actually not Peter’s fault. I am mad with Gwen on this one, but also Jessica, and Hobie well, he should have known enough to be able to tell him seeing Miguel is not good news. At least Hobie tries to warn him as subtly as possible.

Sure, Peter just got here, but the fact that he is already accusing Miles of just messing up with the universe carelessly is not something that doesn’t sit well with me. Either he knows that Miles doesn’t know and is making an insulting comment, or thinks Miles is aware of the situation and just acted recklessly. The second one is the best scenario, but I feel Peter is presuming way too much for someone that just came around and should have known better than believe Miles knew all of these details while Miguel basically has a giant banner of “Not Earth-1610 Anomalies allowed.”

Also, sidetrack but what exactly does Miles do that isn’t just your typical spidey behaviour? Yes he doesn’t always have full-formed plans before acting but you can say that about EVERYONE in the room at that moment.

“He wasn’t thinking, is not like he works!” My ass.

Want my two cents about this moment? Peter has zero business telling this to Miles.

When Miles asks Gwen about her dad, she is crestfallen, she doesn’t like to believe this more than he does; but unlike anyone else in this room, Gwen cannot return to her home dimension. The best case scenario is if she isn’t there, her dad may not die; but that’s the best case scenario, and that involves again, not stepping again in her home dimension ever again. Her best bet is never to see her home, or anyone she knows including her dad, because not only she may end up in prison, her presence may lead to the death of her dad.

And who knows, it may happen regardless; he may be dead already because he is a police officer and she couldn’t be there to give a hand or save him (As she said she did in Into the Spider-verse, by the way.)

Yet at least, she is coming to this with the idea that her life is going to have to SUCK for a few years, things happening or not happening depending on where she is but none of this is pretty or fair.

Peter? As far as we know, he is done.

Considering the age range of the Spidey-characters, chances are Peter already lived the canon events he needed to live, at best they don’t know what’s next, which means he can operate as he feels is the best course of action.

Miles asked him if he would have let his uncle die, but Peter lost his uncle over twenty years ago, he had enough time to grieve, to accept the outcome, and find happiness after it. And to top it all off, HE DIDN’T HAVE THAT MORAL DILEMMA PLACED IN FRONT OF HIM BEFORE IT HAPPENED.

I find Peter’s words hollow because unlike Miles, he was never asked to not intervene in a canon event, he hasn’t needed to deal with someone from his universe dying while he let it play out.

I am not saying he didn't suffer, he did, and a lot; yet he was unaware that this would happen, is way different having someone tell you “Oh those tragedies you lived? It’s the destiny that keeps everything together, it’s rough but it is what it is,” than someone telling you “Oh you are going to live a bunch of different personal tragedies, and you need to suffer with the burden of this knowledge because is this or everyone in every universe dies.”

(How much do you guys bet someone will use this as an example of the trolley problem in a philosophy class.)

Since we are going in kind of a chronological order, let’s go to something a tad lighter both because it deserves mention, and so I can cool down before I start ranting in Spanish (which is not going to be saying pretty things about B precisely.)

Yes, Peter recognizes this is bad parenting, which is good because it certainly isn’t good; I also have trouble believing he didn’t know AT LEAST ONE spider that could stay behind and watch Mayday while he went to the chase.

However, I do think the chase was never going to be dangerous, nor Peter thought it would be. He has been Spider-man for a quarter of a century, he has been swinging around for so long is second nature to him, I bet he has taken Mayday on “strolls” which is him swinging around.

There is also another screenshot that really encapsulates that Peter didn’t realize how dire the situation is, but that’s for later.

There is also the possibility that he asked Miguel to do this as a way to distract him, but considering this is the only time he does this and is going around him being obsessed with Mayday (Which I think is a bit too much, but I blame more the writers than Peter for that.) I am inclined to believe this is not the case.

(Sigh) I promise to try to be neutral, so I need to bring this up.

What they were talking about earlier can be lumped to a bit later on, and I decided to bring this instead of talking about it when Miles and Peter saw each other (which is I didn’t bring because what I could say would be the same as this.) Because this is something really beautiful that I didn’t want to leave out.

I think that’s what angers me the most about this, because in a vacuum? I love this.

I am a sucker for found family tropes, I love the idea that Miles would grow to see people like Peter B, Noir, and so forth as a family. I love how Peter says how much Miles means to him and meeting him changed his life for the better.

Peter B loves Miles, he said that in the last movie; I can’t just erase that.

However, is exactly because of this scene, that what happens next makes me so sad.

Oh, Miles.

I didn’t mention it in the previous image nor did I took detailed screenshots for the sake of my sanity and to not turn this way too long. (Though I may do it in another moment- Ok I need to focus.)

Miles was obviously affected by what Peter said to him, it obviously means a lot because Miles also loves Peter; of all the spiders in the gang he was the one who he spent the most time initially; he wouldn’t be the Spider-man he is today without him.

And it breaks my heart how Miles says this.

Look at the angle, at his posture; Miles can’t even turn to say this to Peter’s face because it hurts so much. He looks so small in that shot, trying to emphasize how he is just a teen, how he really loves them so much, and it breaks his heart to know that they could visit him, and they didn’t.

Let’s remember what he was doing at the beginning of the movie; he was trying to study physics. He is great at it, and he was since the first movie, however, this is clearly not his passion; he loves his art and even if he didn’t know what he wanted to do yet in the first movie, you can see how much he loves what he does.

And he was willing to leave all of that aside, just to see Gwen, Peter and the others again; because as far as he knew there wasn’t any other way. Remember, he was aiming at Princeton; he would need to bleed and work hard to get there, and even after, being in this field it was not going to be a walk in the park; getting to make the dimensional travel work (At least without seeing Miguel’s technology like Hobie seemed to do;) was also going to be hard.

Miles wanted to do all of that for them, and them? They didn’t.

Now; I don’t blame Gwen in this scenario.

I had said this much in this post before, and a bunch of others too. Gwen was stuck with the Spider Society; and yet she risked losing everything, from homelessness to prison, to spend an afternoon with Miles the second she had an excuse.

What is Peter’s excuse?

He couldn't, he couldn't.

That's what he had to say for himself.

Here is the thing: I am not sure I buy it.

Gwen makes sense to me, Miguel didn't want Gwen to be involved since the beginning and obviously doesn't trust her when is about Miles; Gwen wasn't exactly wrong to fear she would get kicked out if she acted out of line.

Peter? I have my doubts.

We don't know Miguel's and Peter B's relationship (I know some shippers have some ideas, not my cup of tea but I have no problem if people like it.) However, we know that Peter B was there when Miguel's dimension collapsed, later in the movie we saw what Miguel did to Gwen for what happened (believe me, we will get there.)

Even if that was the case; Peter’s situation is much less dire than Gwen’s. Even if Peter could be kicked out of the organization for disobeying Miguel; he would still have his wife, his house, his daughter. He would had been in the same spot he was at the end of the first movie, if not better because now he would had a chance to know both him and Miles would be okay.

I am getting ahead of the post here, but I honestly don’t know how much of Canon BS Peter believes; he clearly doesn’t think Miles is bad for being an anomaly, nor his daughter (technically because Peter wasn’t supposed to meet Miles, he wouldn’t have his daughter. Is certainly a NO in the comics.) Miguel is convinced that Miles’ presence is enough to create more holes in the multiverse; Gwen obviously doesn’t share that view. Peter? I don’t know if he thinks there is actually something to lose for visiting him.

One way or another, he doesn’t really give me a reason here; who knows, maybe when Beyond comes there would be enough information for me to admit Peter did the right thing. For now? No.

Here, we have Miles telling Peter he wanted to meet them so badly, and even if Peter doesn't have a clue of how literal Miles is; you can hear it in his voice, in his posture, how he still cannot look at Peter because to that point it hurts.

And what's Peter's response to this?

(Deep breath,) Boy at moments like this I really wish I didn't think so hard about media.

It hurts me, and it angers me, because it is a pretty sweet moment, but when you think hard about it, it just becomes messy.

I could make an entire discussion about how Peter literally ignored Miles’ feelings about not being there, about how he and others (Gwen not really, the others eehhh hard to say;) didn’t try too reach him, which obviously makes him feel like they don’t care about him as he does. And Peter decide to ignored it.

But! I will try to give him the benefit that this is a tense situation, there is hundreds of spiders looking for them, and there only have so much time. I am going to believe, Peter couldn’t address that at the moment because they had other issues.

Yet even if we omit that point, do you guys realize this is literally no different that his entire spiel about Uncle Ben, right?

Because that’s what he is trying to say, “Spider-man has to suffer, but hey sometimes good things can happen anyways.” This entire conversation is about trying to make Miles follow him, do whatever Miguel is trying to do to avoid having Miles go to his dimension (or at least stop him from saving his dad,) and basically let her dad die.

Look, there is nuance to this situation; Peter isn’t saying this to manipulate Miles, he believes this. He truly believes bad things had to happen to keep the universe from falling apart; I am convinced Miguel’s second universe didn’t fall for his Canon theory, yet Peter B was there, I can’t blame the guy for drinking the kool-aid a bit more than the others.

This doesn’t change the fact that this scene has Peter ignoring Miles’ pain, and try to tell him he needs to suffer some more because “is just how the universe works!”

(Sidenote but anyone can’t help to see this and think of a random Christian telling someone after they lived a personal tragedy “Is just G-d’s plan”? Because I saw that a lot.)

Now, I guess the next question someone may be wondering is, do I believe Peter was being honest with Miles here?

...I don’t know, I really, don’t know.

I had seen this scene multiple times, and I lost count how many times when I was in the theatre, seeing this scene, and thinking “he knew” just for the next moment thinking “he didn’t know.”

If you want my two cents, the part that keeps tripping me over is how he looks at his watch, then Miles, then the watch, it makes me wonder if he is screaming that he doesn’t have his location to Miguel, or to Miles.

I don’t want to believe Peter purposefully drive Miles away so he could get trapped, when he says to Miles “I didn’t know, I promise;” I want to believe him.

The thing is, the outcome he hoped wasn’t that much different, now was it?

He wanted it to be Miles decision, yet again, he was trying to get Miles to not just abandon his morals (as well as the ones every Spider-person should have,) but also try to tell him he needs to suffer for the good of the world.

(I am having SO many flashbacks to things I read about cults, I need to continue working on that post about the Spider Society ffs.)

This is a small detail, but I gotta say; Peter do you really have nothing on your defense?

Look, feel free to believe I am playing favourites, but unlike many people who had a problem with Gwen, I don't blame her for hiding this.

No, I don't think what she did was right. Let’s not get things twisted. I definitely think Gwen shouldn’t had hide this stuff, yet she in general NEVER, had a good idea of how much to say and how much to keep with anyone she talks to; from her dad to Jess to Miles. Once again this is an aspect I can’t get mad at her because she is sixteen and traumatized with a minimal support network and irresponsible guardians.

Now Peter, what’s YOUR excuse?

Not just for not telling something to Miles earlier, I could believe he would have done it if the situation has calmed down. No, Miles asked them about it, and even a bit later says “That’s why you guys never came to see me;” (Which I think is kind of BS but let’s not get ahead of myself on this one.) The thing is that when he has the teen he mentored being manhandled by his ‘friend,’ and said thing asks them to answer him; Peter just ducks.

Like he cannot even see Miles and admit he shouldn’t have done that.

Gwen’s excuse isn’t much better but at least she is answering and you can see in her face how much she knows she fucked up.

I am going to be honest, this little detail wouldn’t bother me as much if what has happened before and what’s yet to happened didn’t exist, yet it does.

There is a difference in “Well you did a little mistake but I can let slide” vs “There are so many things wrong here that I will call you out even for the tiny ones.” Granted Peter isn’t that bad, but is a nuance I think a lot of people don’t think of.

Could Peter haven't said anything because the scene is trying to focus on Miles and Gwen for this part? Yes; it doesn't stop me from getting annoying.

Okay, Miles says this, do I believe it? Ehh not sure.

Gwen definitely not the case, if she truly thought him being an anomaly was a problem, she wouldn't have gone to see him directly.

Peter? Again, I have no idea how much of the kool-aid he has been drinking, the fact that he speaks highly of him and his daughter as good things that has happened makes me inclined to believe he doesn't.

We don't have an answer either way, right?

Not that Peter does much to help him feel better here. Yes yes trying to keep focus on certain characters I know.

(Looks at the camera like is the office.) And now THIS is the time where I wish I wasn’t aware of how writing works.

Okay, I know what the purpose of Peter is, aside of being here as a mentor, he is here kind of as a comic relief. He doesn’t have the same narrative weight as he had in the last movie, and he is here to be cute with his baby for the most part. That’s his purpose at this moment.

It-doesn’t-change-anything.

He has this recurring joke on the third act about if he is or not a good mentor, and it kind of has to do with the last movie, specially this joke, since at the end he was also talking how he taught him something he definitely didn’t do. Last movie I found it cute, here? Not so much.

I am trying not to be hard here and why I would not address the “son of a mother” moment (which I honestly really hate,) because this is not even Peter B’s fault at this point; the writers were trying very hard to have a way to make the situation a tad lighter while also having an important character be in character. I can’t say is truly out of character, but I’m not appreciating it.

Especially having him insist on being a good mentor after letting down his protege MULTIPLE TIMES.

Don't you guys love when you see a grown-ass adult go apeshit on a teen, and his friends aren't doing anything to stop him?

Sorry, yeah I understand that for narrative purposes, they have to be stuck to the ground, but after someone pointed this out a few weeks ago, I can't stop thinking of this shot so I needed to bring it out.

(BIG sidenote but, Margo is the biggest MVP here; girl met Miles once and probably has little to no context, yet she is helping him out. Queen behavior.)

Now let's talk about some bullshit.

I know this is technically not about Peter, considering this is Miguel talking to Gwen, yet I find LAUGHABLE this response.

I will give this to the spider//dad shippers, I would also be inclined to believe Miguel has a thing for Peter B if between the guy who had the "fugitive" in close quarters for a few minutes yet did not attempt to trap him, vs the teen girl who tries to help out her mentor to catch the dude (even if she didn't try too hard,) you decide the teen girl is the problem.

Is funny because really all this scene needs is Miguel saying "If it wasn't for you, he wouldn't have come here, he wouldn't had know and the Spot wouldn't have escaped," at least that much couldn't have been said for Peter B.

I think the writers were trying to make Miguel just look less and less reasonable the more we saw on screen; which is why he would go with route.

It doesn't change the fact that Mighel accusing Gwen of not capturing him is laughable.

YOU 👏 ARE 👏 A 👏 TERRIBLE 👏 MENTOR.

(This moment could be addressed individually, but they are basically the same thing and this post is DEFINITELY too long; seriously I had written fics shorter than this wtf.)

Here is my problem with this: He just decides that oh well, what can he do.

SERIOUSLY?!

Forget the "Oh but he doesn't do this the story-" for a moment; are you seriously telling me that not only this guy knows Miles is in a PRETTY fucked up situation, but also that Gwen is in her home universe where she will be homeless (because there is no way in hell Peter B doesn't know what happened to her,) and you decide to just, go brooding in your dimension?

You know is absolutely amazing how I had heard people grill Miguel and Jess for their behavior with Gwen (which I agree with for the most part,) yet I haven't seen anyone say "Isn't it a bit fucked up that Peter B should have known what would happen to Gwen if she went home and didn't decide to help her?"

Miguel is on Earth 1610 and hellbent on finding Miles, you cannot tell me if Peter B left his daughter with his wife, and then went to fetch Gwen, Miguel would have noticed. At the very least Peter could had try to check on her.

Peter B has known Gwen for longer than Jess and Miguel, even if he couldn't be a proper guardian for her because he was busy with his life, he could have been more present. He definitely could have attempted to defend her better when Miguel was screaming at her, or to look after her when she was kicked to her universe.

Jess is determined to act as if Gwen is more of an employee than a teen, but Peter B should be known better.

But is not his idea to help Miles, is Gwen's; because right now he is too focused on his life and his duty as spiderman to think of the younger generations that are hurting. Just like Miguel and Jess.

Yet not the narrative, nor the fandom, truly recognizes that.

Let’s wrap this up, you guys have no idea the amount of hours I had spend on this and I would be surprised if someone got this far.

As a small detail, Peter is seen with Mayday, and this time I DO have a problem with it.

I honestly hope Peter isn’t with Mayday in Beyond, I will pretend Peter doesn’t have Mayday during the events on Beyond in my fics for as long as I can; because this is the moment where I feel the joke is being pushed too far.

They don’t know what would happen next, they don’t know in what type of situation they are in, they know whatever universe ended was one with no spiderman so it has to be dangerous; yet he brings the baby because that’s his recurring theme for this movie.

And truly, that’s really the problem with his character here: He was given a small role to do with very limited things to do.

I am not saying this is bad writing; I may not like Peter’s decisions in this movie, and I am really hoping beyond gives a big ass cup of “Adults need to start protecting the younger generations instead of insist they need to toughen up” to all of them. Because more than his role, I am annoyed that neither the movie nor the fandom is addressing the failings of Peter B.

He is not a bad character, I don’t even think he is a bad character in this movie. I like him, and even if writing all of this down made realize I am more bitter about it than I would had liked; I just don’t think is fair.

I want Peter to be better, as a mentor, as a father; and I am really hoping the next movie shows him grow that way too. I do believe the writers can pull it off.

Now, the fandom addressing that?...That I have MUCH less confidence. But not gonna lie this post was made mostly to get this out of my chest rather than expect a reaction out of it.

If anyone made this far, first of, wow; I know some people were interesting in reading this, but even I think I went for a while I put a lot of things that are small details but you guys now me, it wouldn’t be me if I didn’t do that.

Be thankful I don’t talk about micro-expressions in frames or this would truly would had ended up as a novelette.

Second, thank you for reading! Give a like and your opinion if you want; because I am pretty sure this post is doing to have fewer notes.

[whore-era]

under the weather

☁︎ ellie williams x fem!reader ☁︎ fluff ☁︎ summary: in which ellie takes care of her sick girlfriend. ☁︎ a/n: my first ellie fic! let me know how u guys like it, reblogs and comments r much much appreciated! ☁︎ word count: 1,475

“babe! open up!”

“i’m coming, i’m coming,” you muttered, tightening the blanket wrapped around you.

opening the front door, a gust of crisp, frigid wind blew in your face inducing a full-body shiver. stepping inside the foyer of your house, ellie gave you a confused look as she leaned down to greet you with a kiss on your forehead. 

“why’re you still in your pjs? we start patrol in 45 minutes,” she asked. about to answer her question, you let out a deafening sneeze. 

“i know, babe. i’m sorry- i- i woke up late this morning and, you know, i’m still trying to wake up a little bit but i’m feeling a bit-,” you pause to sneeze, “-a bit groggy.”

you use your long sleeve shirt to wipe your nose, and as disgusting as that was, you couldn’t be bothered to care. your head was pounding, your throat was sore, and your nose was all red and runny. it was obvious you’ve seen better days. 

“just give me 10 m-minutes, els. i’ll be dressed for patrol,” you murmured, attempting to reassure ellie with a weak smile. 

you should’ve known she was smarter than that. she took one look at you—still in your pajamas with messy hair and a blanket cocooning your frame—and determined that you wouldn’t be going anywhere; knowing that if you were to step out of the warmth of your home into the freezing, jackson winter, you’d probably pass out. 

“oh, no. you will not be getting dressed, little lady, let alone going to patrol,” she raised a brow at you, and her cold hands made their way to cup your cheeks. the unexpected chill of her palms on your face evoked a wince from you. 

“fuck, baby, you’re burning up,” she cooed at you, “you’re in no shape to be leaving this house today.” 

“then what are we gonna-,” sneeze, “-do?”, you look up at her with glossy eyes. her green orbs soften and she lets out an apprehensive sigh.

“well, i’m gonna go let jesse know that we won’t be going to patrol today,” your brows furrowed in confusion. did she say ‘we’? 

“what do you mean ‘we’?”, you asked, your voice coming out all congested and muffled. 

“uh, yeah. you think i’m gonna let my favorite girl stay here all alone?”, ellie narrowed her eyes, “especially while she’s sick?” 

“els, i can take care of myself just fine,“ you countered, “just have jesse or dina take my place instead. i don’t want you seeing me all ugly and germy and gross.”

she let out one of her award-winning laughs, “you’re still the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen, even if you’re quote-unquote ‘germy and gross’,” “besides, it’d bug me all day knowing i left you alone while you weren’t feeling good.”

“but-“ you began, but before you had time to interject, your girlfriend interrupted you.

“no buts, you know damn well you would do the same for me, baby.” ellie walked over to you, taking your ice-cold hands into hers, squeezing them tenderly to warm them up. “let me take care of you.” 

of course, you couldn’t say no to her. the way she’s just so insistent on taking care of you, even when you’re all snotty-nosed and sneezy. it made your heart swell. 

“m’kay.” you gave in softly looking down at your feet, “i..i just feel bad, y’know? they need you out there.”

ellie’s finger lifted your chin up softly, your eyes meeting with her green ones. “i know, sweet girl. but right now, you need me in here.” she leans down and kisses you briefly on the lips, sending your heart in a frenzy, as all her kisses did.

“why don’t you go in your room and lay back down? yea, baby?” ellie instructed, “i’m gonna go real quick and tell jess the news. i’ll be back in a sec.” 

-

you weren’t sure when you woke up from your short nap, but by the time you did, ellie still hadn’t been back yet. it worried you a bit, and if you weren’t feeling so feeble and faint, you’d definitely be searching for her right now. 

so, there you were, sprawled out on your bed, blankets tangled between your legs every which way. your eyes shut closed, but your body sank into the silence, soothing you.

you hear the front door open and then close. god, if i’m about to be robbed, then this will be their easiest heist yet. you had no energy to even call out who it was. 

“babe? y’awake?”, ellie greets with a knock on your bedroom door. 

“mmm.” you managed to groan in response, you pick your head up and squint your eyes open, seeing that your girlfriend has changed her clothes into something a bit more comfortable—a hoodie with sweats—and that she has a bag in her hand. 

“what’s that?” you question, using your elbows to prop yourself up in bed. ellie walks over to you, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. she opens the bag and inside is a thermos, various snacks, tea bags, medicine, and a DVD. 

“i just thought i’d pick up some things for you. i mean— we’re gonna be here all day. didn’t wanna be unprepared,” she scratched the back of her neck and smiled sheepishly. you wrapped your arms around her tightly, “thank you.” you whispered. 

her arms wrapped around your waist, one of her hands rubbing your back soothingly, “it’s nothing. anything for you, sweet girl.”

as you sat in bed, watching the DVD ellie picked up, ellie took care of everything. 

turns out, maria made a batch of chowder for you after hearing that you were feeling under the weather. she also threw in some tea bags to help soothe the sore throat. ellie made sure you were bundled up like a baby, and had no complaints tending to you or cleaning up after your messes. 

now your head laid on her lap, both of you intent on the movie playing in front of you. you turned your head, admiring the way ellie’s eyes were so focused and how perfectly her freckles sprinkled her face. she looked down at you, catching you red-handed.

“what?” she asked, shakiness in her voice.

“nothing.” you murmured, your eyes still studying her. 

“y’sure?”

“yea,” you smiled, “i just like looking at you.” 

hues of pink faded onto her cheekbones and across her speckled nose, “well— stop.” 

“why?” 

ellie let out a nervous laugh, which was new to you. “because you’re making me nervous.” 

you smiled and rolled your eyes, “fine, fine.” but now ellie couldn’t stop looking at your face. she intently studied every detail; the wisps of your eyelashes, the curves of your nose, the way the soft glow of the TV illuminated your face, the shape of your lips. it was like she was seeing you for the first time all over again. falling in love with you all over again. 

ellie didn't care if your hair was all over the place or if your nose was red from rubbing it all day. she didn't give a fuck if you were dressed down, or if you sounded 'weird'. even in your sickest state, she still thought you were the most gorgeous girl this universe had to offer.

she bent her head down, planting yet another warm kiss on your lips. 

“you’ve got to stop kissing me before you get sick, silly goose.” you contended, eliciting a laugh from her. 

“if i were to get sick for every time i kissed you, put me in the hospital,” ellie joked. you snorted and rolled your eyes, “ha ha, nice one.” 

you got up, and sat against the headboard of your bed next to her. “seriously though, els. thank you for doing all of this for me,” you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “no one’s really ever done this for me before.” you looked down at your hands, beginning to feel all shy in front of her now. it was a habit, avoiding eye contact with ellie everytime you were opening up to her. it made you feel vulnerable and anxious. 

“hey, look at me,” she lifts your chin up, your eyes meeting hers again, “what’d i tell you?” 

ellie’s eyes studied yours, “i’ll always take care of you. as long as you’re with me, i’ll be the one taking care of you.” no doubt was in her voice. 

“‘kay, sweet girl?”, she asked, and you nodded. ellie smiled at you and her lips pressed against your cheek. 

“i love you.” your heart warmed up and your stomach erupted with butterflies. it always took you by surprise how much of an effect ellie had on your body. 

“i love you, ellie.” 

[regulusrules]

Ranking the best 10 Merlin episodes + a fic rec based on each one:

(absolutely not based on how gay they were) ((no order for the eps; they're all chef's kiss)) (((last two fics have a hold on me that levels the show itself; worth scrolling for)))

1. The Poisoned Chalice

Look. There is something just absolutely entrancing about introducing this episode in the first five of the entire show. Like, this hands-on was the sole reason everyone fell for those two idiots. It beautifully captured how the saving each other thing is reciprocal, because the first three episodes you just have to watch Merlin run around saving Arthur, never the reverse. Producing it early on in the show was the decision that, in my opinion, held everyone in their chokehold for eternity.

Fic rec: you are my favorite mistake (it can only be fate) by @multifandom-jess.

2. The Death Song of Uther Pendragon

I could go on and on for how this episode singlehandedly carried s5 on its shoulder. Like, okay I unfortunately love s5 with all my fucking heart, but this episode was perfect. Ghosts? Check. Banter? Check. POETRY?? Check check. A slap to Uther's face? Oh how beautifully checked.

It's so easy to recall how Arthur truly loved his father, but in this episode, the turmoil you see in his eyes from the actions of his father and how he resorts to saving the ones he loves (Merlin) over his father, is just too beautiful to be overlooked. Ever since Arthur became king, we see him struggle from his father's legacy. But in this episode, he begins to detach both consciously and subconsciously from him. Whether it's in his decision to save the old sorceress in the beginning, or to shun Uther's ghost, both the literal and the figurative, from his life any longer. This was one of the episodes that captured the true essence of King Arthur.

+1: the innuendos of this episode were 🤌. They knew what they were doing, you can't convince me otherwise. (are you threatening me with a spoon? / I'm teaching him some poetry.. he can't get enough of it! / what was that? h-horseplay. why don't I show you?)

Fic rec: My heart is readily yours by @regulusrules. (absolutely love how after all this introspection, i decided to throw it all away and made uther stab merlin in the fucking heart instead. but still it was my honourable attempt to shit on the finale and give them the happy ending everyone deserved).

3. The Sword in the Stone pt. 2

OKAY. This episode! Aside from how badass Merlin was in both pt.1&2, but here, especially in the part where us audience were impatiently waiting for the revival of the sword in the stone, there could've been nothing more perfect. Just like their adaptation of the round table scene, this was perfect in its own way for how different it was. They didn't make it so that people will finally find a king; they made it so that the people believe in their king. And more than that, for Arthur to believe in himself. With the estrangement and losing his crown, the writers gave him the best way to re-establish his inner glory. And Merlin being this guide; what more perfect culmination to their relationship?

You have to believe, Arthur.

Iconic.

Fic rec: Couldn't choose between Only Friend by @captain-ozone, and Fathom Me Out by @supercalvin. Brilliance ahead in both of them, I tell you.

4. The Eye of the Phoenix

Magic. Gwaine. Quests. Need I say more to explain that this was the show's holy trinity?

Fic rec: From Past to Present by flowersheep. (Prince Merlin. Archer Merlin. Perfection my friends).

5. A Servant of Two Masters

Look look; if there's an honourary wall of opinions for all the people who've watched Merlin, I DARE you to find just one who disliked this episode. Like, the series was so full of BS sometimes, but this episode was above all. The level of brilliance in this episode; showing Dark!Merlin, who's at the same time hilariously funny, and seeing him BAMF his way with Morgana, even when he's chained and tortured.. oh dear holy Lord. His "do me a favour, could you? let Arthur know." was able to steal all breath from my lungs the first time I saw it (and until now).

And don't get me started on the Protective!Arthur we got. Caring for Merlin, screaming for him when the rocks fell between them, silencing Agravaine immediately when he told him he's sorry for losing such a loyal servant because bullshit if he doesn't reign down hell before he loses Merlin. And ofc, Courage and Strength on their way to find Magic, which just filled my heart with an 'aaahhh!' moment, because we didn't get enough Gwaine-Arthur-Merlin shenanigans. And at last, the Hug™. Fucking screamed let me tell you.

It is an episode that truly showed everything; from comic elements to fluff and angst and everything. The only thing it lacked was, as always, giving Arthur the space to know. Because ffs what would they have lost if they made Arthur understand that Merlin's under Morgana's control? It wouldn't have exposed shit. It would've just been a plus to us to see Arthur caring for Merlin even more. They tried so hard that it completely backfired sometimes.

Fic rec: Still I Surface in Morning Light by @queerofthedagger. (I swear to you, anything written by this author, I readily throw whatever in hand to read it).

6. The Dragon's Call

Let thy gif caption speak.

No but really, that first episode was the stuff of legends. I could list down tens of tropes they did in just that episode alone. Honestly, no "family" show I've ever seen had started this powerfully. Just the music alone, the beauty of beginnings, not the CGI, was truly so gripping. Also bonus points for just Colin Morgan's sass abilities. None can compare.

Fic rec: This Time Around... series (incomplete) by Oneiric (lkdaswani). (this is a time travel AU, but the way the writer rewrote this episode was one of the best deviations I've read for an episode I already find near faultless).

7. The Sins of the Father

I might be subjecting myself to true wrath with my upcoming statement, but here we go:

S2 sucked.

From the beginning of the season, Arthur's shift in characterization from the honourable lovable prat of s1 to a letting Merlin act as a horse stool got me going wtf? It was like they deliberately ruined everything in their relationship and started out fresh just to force the Arthurian narrative of Arwen. And it's fine by me, truly, even if I'll never ship them, but they could've developed Arthur's character SO MUCH in that season beyond comic relief and romantic rendezvous.

Anyway so that I don't stray so much from the topic; this episode was, by fair comparison, the best in the entire season. By now it's pretty obvious that I gravitate towards all the episodes that give Arthur a semblance of agency. Him going against Uther and his maniac murderous agenda was the start of actually seeing King Arthur in front of us. Also, him listening to Merlin when he was on the verge of committing patricide was one of the things that gave me hope in how there's still hope in them. Even if they ruined it with making Merlin lie to Arthur, but the writers practically ruined every good episode with this.

+1: Morgause's intro was badass.

Fic rec: The Sins of the Father (and how to right them) by @cupcakezys. (what we deserved. to see arthur with agency, with an ability to decide for his future without being lied and deceived to).

8. Diamond of the Fucking Day

No matter how much I hate this episode, I can't, in good conscience, deny its hold on my heart. As I wrote before, there could've been no better magic reveal than this. And for all of my bitterness over their decision to kill Arthur, I sanely admit how it was a decision that insured the immortality of this fandom. It's been ten years since that episode aired, and I bet my ass off that it will still feel the same even after countless more decades.

Fic rec: literally the entirety of the fandom's fix-it fics. We all started from there, didn't we? Choosing only one would be so undervaluing to all the brilliance I've seen. However, my tags filter for it usually include: fix-it, angst with a happy ending, court sorcerer merlin, shitting on bbc writers 101, canon era, not canon compliant, everybody lives especially king arthur you mfs.

Update: I subconsciously took all these tags and wrote them in a fic

9. The Wicked Day

Throw me from the highest tower there is because every time I remember this scene, I just want to fade into the light. The sheer level of love and understanding shimmering between those two. Sometimes I marvel at the choice of bringing Colin and Bradley together, because no two could have achieved such chemistry, platonic or not, as those two did. This whole episode of showing Arthur's grief, and Merlin's desperation to heal it, was truly unforgettable. I try not to linger on its ending, Arthur denouncing magic for the millionth of time, but other than that it was a gem served to us on a silver platter.

Also seeing Uther finally die was a plus.

Fic rec: As much as I'd love to recommend my own fic for this, but honestly, whenever I get the chance, I will always take it to scream and wail about one of my absolute favourite fics of all time, which really isn't given ANY of the goddamn credit or attention or kudos it deserves. Beauty in the Ashes of Our Lives by Fulgance. I swear to you, you will never read something as beautifully heartbreaking as this. This fic resides in my mind rent-free. Basically any work by Fulgance is amazing, but this fic— oh God, my heart cannot take it sometimes.

10. Arthur's Bane pt. 1

Fuck, that episode was a masterpiece. You know, if it was all in my hands, I would've magic revealed at this particular episode. It was just.. the perfect opportunity. King Arthur in his glory, beginning of the season, enough time for Arthur to fully understand the depth of what Merlin did for him. Also, the range Arthur was given starting from here; God it's what we deserved. I always blame the writers for being inconsistent with his characterization (s2 and all), but they beautifully crafted it in the end, and it was their perfect chance to even explore the whole extent if only they made the magic reveal earlier.

Fic rec: Our broken pieces by @aramblingjay. Okay so this fic rec isn't necessarily linked at all to the episode, but I can't, in good conscience, recommend fics and not include it. Technically context wise it fits s5, for in it you see Arthur in his grandeur as king. This shall be my only exception because it's the only fic that was able to make me cry. Truly, I never shed tears, but in this, my heart stuttered. The fact that it is so unnoticed makes my blood boil because of how much praise it deserves. I can never recommend it enough.

To conclude, BBC Merlin has a powerful hold on everyone because of the fact that they knew how to eternalise it. It is significantly unique in its interpretation of legendary figures. I think I watched nearly all adaptations of King Arthur throughout the years, but even with how great some really are, to me none compare with this sword-swishing, banter-driven, CGI-messing, emotionally-killing 2008 show.

Honorary mentions:

| The Labyrinth of Gedref | Gwaine | Le Morte D'Arthur | Lancelot | The Coming of Arthur | The Moment of Truth | The Hunter's Heart | His Father's Son | The Darkest Hour |

[More fic recs]

[alexiswritingstuff]

Just wanted to let you know that I've been binge reading all of your writings and I love them so much, keep up the good work! :)

I know you might have a lot of Gus requests, so it's okay if you put this one on the back burner for a bit. But I read the "Not So Scary After All" work and I was wondering if you could write a sort of sequel to it?

Maybe Jesse keeps trying to tell GN reader how obvious it is that he likes them. How he's seen him try not to smile when talking to reader, the softer tone of voice, things like that.

Reader obviously doesn't believe him and thinks that Gus is just being nice to his employees, especially the ones that are responsible for the cooks.

Anyways, after a few days of Jesse pestering the reader about it something happens to make them realize he might be right. I was thinking maybe they would make another mistake with the cook and Walter is there to see it. Maybe he gets mad, a little TOO mad, and Gus walks in 🤭 Or anything else works too! I just love the premise of a protective Gus that doesn't like to show how protective he actually is

First of all, thank you for the comment about my writings, I'm glad you have enjoyed them so far! Initially I didn't think about writing a part two, so I hope this does it justice, as well as that I hope it was what you were looking for!

Thank you for sending this in!

Not so scary after all. 2/2

Pairing: Gustavo x gender neutral reader.

Other appearances: Jesse Pinkman, Walter White.

Warnings: arguing, walter being a douche.

also be aware of spelling mistakes, or other errors. I do read these over but I can tend to miss stuff either way!

A/N: my brain has been fixated on other characters recently, so if these guys seem ooc then that may be why. It's hard to write scenes where gustavo is interested in another person because we barely get to see that in either show, so I also hope my portrayal of him just generally feels correct.

I hope you enjoy!

more Gustavo fics.

Taglist- @sukunamybeloved - @viviennemuerte - @miwagila - @marksassybanana

previous part.

It never mattered how many times you had gone through the same routine. Surprisingly, considering your line of work, waking up in the morning was always the most jarring part. 

You could’ve had a great nights sleep, not woken up at any point, had no distractions or noisy neighbours. Yet the second you were in that car to get to the laundromat, it was like you had to force your eyes to stay open. 

Which was apparently the same for Jesse too as there was a series of mumbles and grumbles that would fill the car every few seconds. 

Each time you spared a glance to the passenger seat he would be leant further and further into window, his head bobbing whenever there was a difference in ground level or direction of the wheels. 

It had you amused, but also a little concerned, “Did you wake up too early, or too late?”

Seeking no comfort from the hardness of the glass, and after his temple ended up smacking right into it, Jesse got himself to sit upright in a speed that closely resembled one of those stairlifts. 

He groaned, having to make consistent attempts to keep his body from just slumping all together, “Both?” His hands raised to his head, the sides of his fingers beginning to rub at his eyes as if it would rid them of their tiredness.

In all honesty, outside of the cooking sessions and other shenanigans you found yourself in, you and Jesse never really... hung out. There would be times where you had lunch together, or had to show up to his house if there was something to drop off.

But that was mostly it.

And there wasn’t exactly a reason as to why. You had absolutely nothing against Pinkman, it was like the opposite. The more you spent time with him, the more you felt like some kind of guardian watching over some kid. Even if he also was an adult.

“You had breakfast, though, right?” Your gaze was trained on the lane ahead despite your ongoing conversation.

You had just turned onto a state road, meaning that, regardless of it being early in the morning, people were up and about. Trying to get to their jobs.

It always made it seem busier than it was.

At first, in response to your question, Jesse simply emitted another mumble of something. He was thinking, the intensity in which he rubbed at his eyes increasing for a moment, and then his hands dropped. “Oh,”

“Shit, I don’t... I don’t know.”

You supressed the urge to sigh. It had already happened a few times. Depending on what he did the night before, there would be some mornings where his mind was rattled enough that he would almost forget where he even was, so.

You came prepared. 

“Well, I guess luck is on your side today.” you commented, flexing your fingers against the grips of the steering wheel, “There should be a sandwich or something in the back.”

By now Jesse’s head was leaning into the headrest, definitely having the same problem of trying to keep his eyes open like you did. The heat outside probably wasn’t a helpful factor either. “Seriously?”

You didn’t want to take your attention off of the road. The cars in front were starting to slow, and you needed to keep note of the distance from the ones at the back. “Check.” you told him, adjusting the rear view mirror for better visibility.

Jesse sort of rolled his head to the side after a moment, his chin almost knocking into the bone of his shoulder as his gaze cast onto the few items that were in the back seats.

He lazily blinked for a good few seconds, his eyes trying to adjust to the redirection of a sunlight beam. And then he saw it. Right in the middle.

A brown bag.

“No way.”

The next move he made was so fast that the seatbelt strapped around him had immediately stalled against his body, attempting to keep him in place at the assumption of sudden danger.

But that wasn’t enough to stop him at all. 

He pushed against it once, then twice, and then one more time before simply manoeuvring himself around the belt so that the top half would basically be protecting the car seat instead of him. 

When Jesse leaned himself between your seat and his, it was so much harder to keep your attention on the road. He was reaching out, arm extended as far as it could go and waving almost madly, until eventually, he grabbed the bag.

Jesse practically had to shove himself backwards to sit upright again, but soon he was able to resume his previous position with a big sigh of relief. Your head could only shake. 

Now, there was this sound a rustling paper that filled the entire car as you moved onto the accompanying lane. Something that was definitely not supporting your concentration. “Damn.”

His voice was muffled, the noises coming out of his mouth barely even sounding like a word which in turn made you send him a look.

He had finally gotten to the sandwich. “You make this?”

“Nah, I had too many errands to run.” you informed with a slight sigh, finally beginning to let yourself relax in your seat, “Would’ve done it if I had the time, but I think that is better anyway.”

Jesse didn’t even have to speak for you to know his response. He had taken another bite, nodding his head just slightly in proper approval. If his eyes were closed it would look like he was in pure bliss.

After relentlessly chewing for a hot minute, he attempted to swallow it down, “I didn’t-- I didn’t take you as an early riser.” Yet his voice was still almost unintelligible.

“Well, believe it or not, other people are in fact active in the mornings.” you pointed out, slightly leaning to the side for further emphasis on who the comment was aimed at in a way that had Jesse rolling his eyes. 

You swear you saw a clump of crumbs fly from his mouth when he next spoke, “Yeah, yeah-- You sure your too many errands wasn’t just you making sure that you looked good for a certain Fring?”

Your head snapped in his direction in a way that had looking back to the road immediately after, and probably almost gave you whiplash. But you saw it either way.

That damn grin had taken over his lips.

Again. 

“Please don’t do this right now.”

Jesse had to clear his throat to stop himself from almost choking, “Aw come on, man, it’s-- There’s nothing to be ashamed of if you did.” Your head shook like it had done before, “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

It was always so stupid to you how the indirect mention of someone made your body react the way it did. You were only trying to get to work, yet your heart was acting as if you had just gone for a run. 

“But I do.” The look you sent Jesse almost had him wanting to put his hands up if he wasn’t so focused on his sandwich, “What? I do-- Look, I may not have that much experience, or whatever, but there is totally something going on.”

“Definitely on his end at least.” He moved the sandwich around in his hands, trying to locate the best part to bite as he had finally swallowed the last one, “I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve seen him give you the look.”

Your eyebrows furrowed within seconds, “The... The what now?” You tried to turn in his direction for confirmation, but he seemed a bit too busy to notice your movement.

Due to a junction being up ahead, your foot had moved onto the foot break, watching the lights fully change the closer you drew.

“The look.” Jesse finally repeated, his mouth full all over again in a way that needed real concentration to understand the words coming out of it, “Yeah, he gives you the look, like, all the time.”

Soon, the car in front of you had fully stopped, and then so did yours as you put it into first gear, keeping your feet on the first two pedals.

The moment the car had stopped moving, you turned to Jesse within seconds, eyebrows furrowed more than they had ever been. “What is the look?”

Pinkman gave you a simple glance at first, thinking that you were just messing around as he kept munching away... But no matter how much time went by, you didn't move. Still watching him.

His chewing slowed when his head turned back in your direction. He just blinked for a moment. “You don’t know... You don’t know what the look is?”

Your chin lowered, your eyelids slightly doing the same, “Does it sound like I know what it is?”

“Okay, but... how?” Despite Jesse’s previous complete interest in his sandwich, it lowered with his hands to his lap. There was utter confusion written all over his face while he remained smacking away. “How do you not-- How old are you?”

Your attention went to the road ahead all over again, the back of your head sinking into the headrest as a huff left your lips, “Older than you.” you pointed out, trying to sound more authoritative, but that just seemed to spark an already lit flame. 

“Then how do you not see it, huh? I mean, even I can tell that it’s pretty obvious-- And not just because of the look either,” Jesse fully twisted in his seat so that he faced you, “He like... He wants to actually, like, talk to you, and shit-- I’ve seen him smile-- genuinely smile at you, okay?"

“Now, if he was doing it to me? I would... Man, I would be terrified-- But it’s you, it’s... different.” You were trying so hard not to shake your head again, but Jesse’s voice practically being right in your right ear was making it a lot more difficult. “It’s something else--”

“It’s not...” You regripped the steering wheel, “You do realise we’re talking Gustavo Fring, right?” Your head attempted to turn back to Jesse, though your eyes were trying to keep the attention on the road as one of the final vehicles seemed to cross through the junction. 

“Exactly!” Jesse practically threw his arms up, almost losing his grasp on the sandwich in the process, “You should be caring about this more than you do.”

Your head shook as your gaze fully went back to the road, your foot readying to release the clutch while your fingers tapped against the steering wheel in anticipation. 

You were trying to find something to zone in on, something to distract yourself from the kid sitting in your passenger seat as he was still eagerly trying to get you to see the things the way he did. But you weren’t giving it to him. 

“Fine then.” Jesse reached behind him, grabbing the top half of the seatbelt, pulling it until it was in front of him again, before he ducked himself beneath. 

“But I’m telling you, Y/n.” It was back, slinging diagonally across his torso by the time he was seated properly, and also by the time the lights had finally turned green.

“You’ll see.”

~

There was something about this day that was starting to feel a little familiar. 

You and Jesse had arrived ages ago. You had gone down the windy red stairs, did the whole thing of taking off unnecessary clothing so that you wouldn’t completely boil in the obnoxiously yellow protective suit you would put on next. 

And at first, once you were all geared up, the two of you stood in front of the machines. Your heads were raised, eyes cast up to the walkway above as you awaited the arrival of your usual partner at their usual time...

But the door never opened. 

There was no proper estimate for how long the two of you just stayed waiting as you had set your watch to the side, and the clock was on the other side of the room, however, there was one thing you knew for sure. Someone was late. 

Eventually, the two of you were trying to compensate, finding something useful to do while giving the benefit of the doubt that maybe it was just tough traffic or something going on that made them lose track of time.

Though, the ability to sympathise got smaller and smaller the more minutes began to turn into full on hours. 

You found yourself at your usual table with your hand supporting the weight of your head, attempting to occupy your mind by looking over the paperwork from passed cooks. A habit that you only recently developed. 

“Dude,” you heard somewhere to your side before there was an exasperated sigh, and a quick creaking of a chair, “What the hell is taking him so long?”

Earlier, Jesse had taken one of the other wheeled chairs from the table connected to yours and had rolled somewhere, enough so that you could only see him from the corner of your eye.

His body was slumped back, the seat beneath him creaking with every move that he made. And considering that he didn’t have anything to do, that was like every. Single. Second. 

He had tried out the difference created when he would shift his weight, tested what it would feel like to have his legs hanging over the left side of the chair and then the right, he had pushed his feet onto the floor to roll himself backwards and forwards against the smooth tiles.

And now, as apparently none of that had seemed to have settle his mind, Jesse had resorted to zipping and unzipping the protective suit he was so ready to take off by now. Over, and over... And over again. “Okay,”

“That’s it.”

The pencil held in your gasp was cast to the side of the notepad, you were barely looking at this point, before your hands moved to the edge of the table so that you could push against it enough that your chair started to roll.

You stood up, winding round the seat that was still on the move as you began to walk towards one of the pathways between the machines. Jesse fully planted his feet on the ground, “Yo, Y/n, where are you going?” 

Your fingers grasped onto the zip of your suit and you yanked it down as far as you could without having to bend for the rest, beginning to pulling your arms out one after the other moments after. 

You moved round that damn settling tank and soon ended up at the wall where you would keep or hang up your loose items. “I...” you began, your voice becoming strained as you bent down to free your feet of those big welly boots, “am going to find out what the hell is going on.”

The squeak of a chair echoed somewhere to the back of the room. “Well, don’t-- Don’t leave me in here by myself.” 

Finally, after one last tussle, your, once worn, protective suit was now sprawled on the ground beside the clothing rack. You moved to your usual shoes, putting either feet in their respective ware before tying the laces to make sure they wouldn’t fall off. 

Before Jesse could even appear by your side to complete the same process, you were on the move once again, directing towards those windy red stairs that always made you feel like you were going to fall up and/or down them. 

“Y/n, wait, dude, wait-- Just give me a minute.” You could hear the hurried rustling of plastic suit echoing through the steps you took on the metal staircase. 

Eventually, when your movements had allowed you to arrive at the cat walk, you found yourself complying to Jesse’s words... While the man himself was still trying, and failing, to get the suit off. 

It gave you a moment to catch a breath you hadn’t been able to take all day. You were stood high, looking down at the problems below, and not drowning neck deep in it like you usually did. 

A deep breath sucked into your nostrils as you let your eyes fall closed, the air of the lab starting to cool the warmth that had festered across your skin--

A sharp whistle squealed through from your left before it bounced around each wall one after the other. 

Your eyes had snapped open as soon as the sound appeared, but it wasn’t until your head had started to turn that your brain realised what it had come from. 

It was the door.

Your body twisted in the direction of the man who was almost stumbling across the cat walk, a series of huffs and puffs spluttering from his mouth that would have you worrying any other day. 

But as of now, all you did was cross your arms over your chest.

“Yo, Mr. White! What the hell took you so long, dude?”

“Sorry, sorry,” he began through a slight wheeze that ended with him doing this horrendous cough. And once he was about three steps in front of you, he stilled his apparently over exhausted body, using a hand to shift his weight onto the railing, “There was... car trouble, and stuff with the kids, you-- you know kids.”

“You would think, maybe, after the first one that it was going to get easier and then...”

In the midst of Mr. White stabilising himself, his head had turned to the right in at attempt to locate Jesse, which wasn’t hard to do considering the fact that he was still taking off that damn suit, to further emphasis his... guilt?

But instead, after he did a sort of double take, he began to slowly face you once again, “Why aren’t any of the machines on, why... Why aren’t you wearing your suit?”

“We were waiting for you. I was just about to try and find at least someone to tell us where you were.”

“Wait... Wait a minute,” Mr. White started, holding his hands up while he took a step closer. “You didn’t start?” His chin slightly lowered in a way that made his eyes peer at you over his glasses. 

“No?” you stated simply, your eyebrows furrowing at the sudden change to his demeanour, “After last time... We didn’t think you wanted us to do it by ourselves.”

“But that was-- That was last time, Y/n.” With every word that the man spoke, his hands rose higher and higher until they were inches away from touching his face, “Do you have any idea what time it is right now?”

The urge to scoff was stronger than ever, and you had to hold it back more than you ever had in your life, “I think I should be asking you that question.”

The man before you began shaking his head in a way that was almost not visible. “I told you... I was having problems with my car.” For a moment his expression remained the way it was, a visible attempt at holding back what you were guessing was anger. 

But then it failed. 

“I have... a family to take care of...” His hands dropped to his sides. When he next spoke the corners of his mouth slightly downturned like there was utter distaste for the words coming out of his mouth, “They are not going to be put at expense because, again, you weren’t able to do a simple job.”

Regardless of how loud it usually was when someone walked up the windy stairs, right now, as Jesse began to do just that, it was barely audible to your ears. The sound fading more and more the longer you stared at the man before you. “Guys, can we just--”

“I am doing my job just fine, Mr. White.” you started up with this lack of emotion to your voice, trying to make it as clear as possible that you wanted to get this over and done with, “We just didn’t want to do another batch all by ourselves, simply, because you couldn’t be bothered to show up.” Though it seemed your mouth had other plans. 

There was something that almost satisfactory when you saw a side of his face twitch. But soon, it was one that ended with this sort of smile curling at his lips, his eyebrows raising more than you had ever seen in your time working with him. “Oh.”

“So, you want me to apologise for making a singular mistake? Is that it?” He took yet another step towards you, “You know what, how about we count how many times you have made-- No, caused, a mistake, hmm?”

You couldn’t count the amount of voices that were telling you to take a step back, to move away the closer he got to stand directly in front of you, “But that wasn’t only my fault-- There’s a big difference between actually trying and just not showing up.” 

Your feet remained planted on the ground beneath. Your arms were held tighter than ever across your torso as you tried to maintain the blankest expression possible.  

“Dude, both of you just... just chill out, please.” Jesse tried to insist as he walked up the last few steps, but no one paid any attention to his words, “We can-- We can work this out--”

“You allowed a contamination,” Mr. White began, narrowing his eyes as if in disbelief, “How did you-- Did they not teach you to read, or listen, to instructions in school?”

“My education has nothing to do with this.” you insisted without missing a beat. And regardless of your attempts to keep your composure, it was inevitable that something began slipping into your voice.

You had been up early.

You had been running back and forth to make sure that certain things were sorted for certain people, had to drive all the way to downtown to pick up Jesse and then all the way back up to get here. To work.  

And then, while at work, you weren’t even able do your damn job because your other partner, that was supposed to be there at a specific time by contract, just didn’t show up. 

Which then lead you and Jesse to have to stand and do absolute jack shit for hours on end. 

Walter just shook his head again, even raising his hands like he was about to shove you or something, though he might have wanted to simply point a finger, “Well, apparently it does, because if you still aren’t competent enough to follow something so basic, then--”

“What is going on here?”

Within the next second, the man in front of you had twisted round in a way that almost gave you whiplash just from watching. He stepped to the side, and moved backwards until he was practically next to you. “Oh, Gus, I, uh... We were just... Slow start.”

But, of course, he was still a little ahead. 

Your feet, however, hadn’t moved an inch. In fact the only move you made was to let your arms finally fall free to your sides as you stared onwards. 

It was Gustavo. He was stood in the doorframe, one hand pressing against the weighted metal so that he had enough time to take in his surroundings. And then he took the final step inside. 

It was only when the door closed behind him that you realised you hadn’t even heard it open in the first place. 

The lab was back to what it had been minutes ago. Silent. No sound at all filtering throughout the entire room. 

Gustavo stilled himself not far from the door he had walked through, but enough so that you could feel his presence as well as see it. His arms were unmoving by his sides, a trait that would’ve carried out through his entire body if he hadn’t started moving his head. 

Like Walter had done when he arrived, Gustavo looked at the room below. He studied it, looked from one section to the other while noting the quietness that was effecting even him. 

And then he turned back to the people across from him, the expression on his face unwavering, “Why is that? There’s nothing in the machines.”

“You know, ex-- exactly.” the man to your side suddenly spoke up, snapping your attention from the other guy you wanted to look at a little longer. “I had... countless problems with a lot of things this morning, and I wasn’t able to arrive on time.”

Walter sort of took a step forward, but instead of what you would naturally think of when someone carried out such a movement, he didn’t properly face Gustavo. 

He stood side on, his body turned towards the machines so he could look at you or his boss with a simple movement of his head. And as of now, you seemed to be his main target. “Apparently they couldn’t be bothered to start the batch themselves.”

“That’s not true.” You mirrored his stance, faced directly towards him, instead of the man who was just trying to seek answers, as your eyebrows furrowed as much as they could. 

Walter tilted his head, “You sure?” he asked, using the most condescending voice that would of set you off had you already lost the grasp on your, slowly dissipating, self control. 

“Yes, I don’t understand--” Your hand rose to your face, fingers pressing into the skin beneath before dragging down to your chin. And then they dropped. You took in a deep breath. “Look... I admit it, sure, we could have started the cook. But.”

“Me and Jesse both thought it was smarter to wait after the previous mistake,” you began, emphasising your point by gesturing to the dude who was now stood behind, and his eyes sort of widened at the sudden attention. 

This time it was you who took the step forward. “But yet again,” You made sure to hold yourself back from blinking as you stared right at the man who was trying so hard not to cut you off, your fists clenched at your sides. “You. Weren’t. Here.”

Your heart was thudding in your ears, a sound louder than any other thing in the room. The exhaustion was rampant through your body, continuously attacking system, and at this point testing your patience that had already become thin. 

The ability to control anything was about one minute away from collapsing. 

“Why were you late, Mr. White?”

When Gustavo’s voice caught your ears, you hadn’t even bothered to look his way despite the fact that Walter did. In fact, he took the chance to move away from you, which almost made him bump into the other railing. 

“Car troubles, and, uh... family stuff, too, you know... all that.” he informed, his voice and the look of his face switching into one that you could instantly tell was the fakest attempt of trying to get sympathy. 

“And you didn’t inform anyone of these... troubles?”

Your head turned in about a second, your gaze snapping to the man who hadn’t moved a singular inch since the last time you properly saw him. His attention was only on Walter, his eyes now slightly narrowed. 

“What...” Mr. White started, the shock clear within his voice and the expression on his face, “Are you... Are you trying to say that this is my fault?”

“I am not saying anything, Mr. White.” Gustavo’s turned in the mans direction with such slowness that had a look of regret taking over anything else that was threatening to appear on Walters face. And once he stilled, he had even slightly tilted it to the side, “I am simply asking questions to understand why a job hasn’t been completed.”

Walter let out this sort of scoff of a sound as he gestured with his hands like before, “Well, then your asking the wrong person, Gus.” 

He pointed towards you, this time not even bothering to look unless it was to make sure his finger was actually aimed in your direction, “They... They have been here for who knows how long, I... I-- I mean, the batch could’ve finished by now, if they just--”

“You are putting the blame... on them?” Gustavo’s voice was low, deep in pitch that it was almost gravelly and harsh to any ears that heard it. There was no direct tone, or emotion clear within it. But paired with the slow step forward, anyone could tell that it wasn’t good. 

“You are putting the blame on a person who was actively trying to solve a problem that you created... because you weren’t competent enough to make a phone call?”

You were use to his intimidation tactics. In all honesty, usually, it seemed even more affective when he wasn’t using them, like when he wore that smile that never really reached his eyes. 

But this...

This was different. 

When Gustavo wanted to intimidate someone, or remind them of their place in the bigger picture. He had relationships to maintain, an act to keep up so that nothing could expose him and/or his business, so he never risked insulting a person in case it would backfire, create unnecessary problems.

Gustavo Fring wasn’t a man who directly insulted someone unless he was going to gain something from it... Well, apparently, until now. 

For the next few seconds it seemed that Mr. White couldn’t find the exact reaction he had. His lips twitched almost every way that they could, his mouth would open and close again and again like he was mimicking a fish, all the while his head began to shake once again, “I don’t... I don’t know what to say-- I can’t... Gus, I just--”

“I have heard all I needed.” There were no movements that accompanied his words. No change to his voice a part from a mild show of a tested patience. Gustavo just stared at the man before him, unblinking, “You still have plenty time to cook.”

“You can’t be serious--”

“That’s what you came here to do... Is it not?” Gustavo pointed out simply, his head tilting to the side in a way that almost made him look like a puppy. But his face said all that it needed to. 

Walter sort of cowered, avoiding the mans gaze as he took a moment to think, “I... I-- Well... Yes, but--”

In about a second, though there was almost nothing displayed on Gustavo’s face, everything sort of... dropped? His eyelids lowered in a way that wasn’t enough to hide his eyes but it was still visible, his jaw unclenched, his lips almost looked like they were turning down the way. 

But again. Not once did he blink. 

“Then cook.”

For a solid ten seconds, there was just utter silence. Someone could have drop a pin on the other side of the room, and it would still echo like any other sound. No one moved. No one twitched. No one spoke.

Walter took in a deep breath, his shoulders deflating when it made its way back out. And then he turned, beginning to do just as Gustavo said this time without any argument.

But the moment you started to do to the same thing--

“Not you.”

You froze. Your body hadn’t even managed to twist yet, so after sending a look to Jesse who sent one right back, you simply rocked back on your feet, resuming the same position you were in before. 

His eyes were only on yours. The first time he had fully looked at you since he had entered the room. 

“We have... other matters to discuss.”

~

After you left the room, it was practically silent when you began to walk.

There was the usual sounds that occurred from the machines within the laundromat, and the workers who you were still not sure knew about the giant meth lab beneath there feet, but between you and Gustavo there was nothing. 

No exchange of words and barely even the sound of your own footsteps. 

He was a few steps ahead of you, which may have been one of the main reasons, as he lead you across the paths that had big machines towering over you on each side. 

There would be a few moments were you had to duck, or even completely manoeuvre, around certain objects that were hung, either needing to dry or they were connected to a moving system that would bring clothes from one section to another.  

You had no idea where you were going. The second the two of you had officially exited the lab, his lips had became sealed. He just started walking, and of course, you only had one response to that. 

Your gaze pretty much remained on Gustavo’s back no matter how far you went, only fleeting to make sure that you weren’t going to bump into anything, as you followed the man in front of you like a lost duckling... Though, you felt more like a child getting ready to be told off. 

Eventually, after stopping yourself from getting caught up in the thoughts swirling through your mind, you found yourself walking out of the big vertical door. The entrance of the laundromat. 

If your heart wasn’t pounding before it sure was now. And no matter how badly you wanted to just focus on the feeling of fresh air after being stuck in an underground room for what felt like, and probably was, about five hours... Gustavo stopped walking. 

He was stood at the edge of the paved platform, hands moving to clasp behind his back as he resumed that usual straight posture. 

Your steps grew slower the more close you got to standing by his side. You wanted to gage his mood, predict what was about to happen or what he was going to say, which was a bit difficult considering that you could only see the back of his head. 

You cleared your throat when you had arrived to the right of him. Your eyes were slightly narrowed, adjusting to the sudden presence of the sun, while you gently leaned back and forth on your feet. 

“Sir, I... I’m really sorry about this... Again,” you had begun, but almost immediately your speech planned in your head seemed to have fallen apart. 

You turned your head to the side, trying to properly convey your apology through your face more than your words. “I know it doesn’t help the business, but I really, really, don’t know why this keeps happening--”

“Y/n.” 

You had already been looking at Gustavo throughout your words. And maybe it was because you were too caught up in your mind, or because originally the man before you had been gazing into the distance with the usual expression that barely gave you anything to work with. 

But now he was looking right back at you. 

“Yes?” you answered subconsciously in a way that had your mouth snapping shut immediately after realising that you didn’t need to actually do that. 

This time, Gustavo’s chin lowered, “I’m not going to scold you, Y/n.” His gaze was the most gentle you had ever seen it, along with sound of his voice. He may have said the words simply, and matter of factly, but his face told you otherwise. 

You sort of just stood there for a moment, blinking at him. “You... You’re...” And then your eyebrows furrowed all over again, your body turning so that you faced him directly, “You’re not?”

Gustavo kept looking at you, and finally, since thatsituation with Mr. White, you weren’t presented with an expression of judgement. It wasn’t a look that visibly told that they thought whatever they were seeing was utter stupidity. 

He took in a breath, letting his eyes fall back on the busy town ahead for a split second, before they were back on your own, “I want you to go home.” 

His voice was lighter, the expression on his face no longer holding the tension that had clung to his skin. 

Your lips parted, even if no sound initially came out. You stared back at him for a moment, your eyes a little wider than they were before, almost unblinking, “Did I mess up that badly?”

Gustavo’s eyebrows furrowed so quickly that you hadn’t caught onto it until he turned his body in your direction, “Forgive my phrasing.” he started, his hands remaining behind his back no matter the change of position, “This is not a punishment.” 

With his next words, Gustavo made sure that you were looking at him, right into his eyes, just in case his meaning was conveyed through his voice, “You are not in trouble for the wrongdoings of another man.”

... Were you missing something? Why would Gustavo take you out of the lab? 

I mean, sure, you made the deduction that not starting the batch might’ve not been such a great idea, and honestly at some point expected to get a good talking too because of it. Maybe it would be the final straw... 

But here you were. Theman himself, the big boss, stood right in front of you. Directly telling you that you’re not in trouble.

“Then... I’m going to have to say that I don’t understand, Sir.” The muscles beneath your brows were getting a good work out from consistently changing between being normal and then furrowed within, practically, every thirty seconds, “We still have a batch to do, a deadline to follow.”

Influenced yet again by a man stood before you, “And who is that for?” 

Your whole body felt like it wanted to deflate, fall limp and just collapse on the ground. This time it wasn’t in anger, or fear, or annoyance. It was because after everything, you could exhale the nerves that had clung to your insides. There was no use for them now. 

You lightly nodded your head, the fact of not being in trouble officially processing in a way that had your gaze lowering, “... You.”

Gustavo wanted to smile. He wanted to display his pride of finally cracking the code that was your mind, having created even a bit of equal understanding, but he could still see the ghost of the previous expression that held your face hostage. The genuine concern over possible harming his business.

And him. 

“I am not asking you to leave because I think that you are bad at your job, or that you don’t do anything for this business-- Because that would be entirely wrong.” he started up with this new voice that was difficult to ignore, “I am simply saying that you have the day off.”

“It is... normal in a workplace, is it not?”

By the time your eyes met Gustavo’s, your brows had furrowed once again, though now, it was for a very different reason, “I mean... Yes-- But not in this business, just...” 

There was a huff of air that passed through your lips. Theexhaustion from earlier was presenting itself back into your system, making the want to talk become a lot less than before, “Let me-- Let me go back in there, we can work, we can... we can get it done.”

Gustavo’s head began shaking before you had even finished your sentence, “I can’t do that.”

“And why not?” you questioned, leaning back slightly so that you could fully take in his demeaner, analyse any look that took over his face, “I thought you said that I didn’t do anything wrong?”

“You didn’t.” he insisted almost immediately, the expression he wore going blank the way it usually did. But now wasn’t the time. “Then...” You took in yet another breath to cut off your words, trying to suppress the urges to sigh, scoff, or the sudden want to raise your voice, “Why?”

To say this day felt long was truly an understatement. Things just kept happening one after the other and still you were left in the dark. No answer as to why things progressed into the situations they had. 

“Y/n, I am not... risking the loss of more time to arguing.” It was like you could visibly see the words he chose to say. The pure caution, decisions careful enough so that he wouldn’t set off the things he could see getting ready in your eyes, “I know that if you go back in there, Mr. White will not... let go. Not unless I place someone in there to stand and watch at all times.”

“All I am telling you is that you are free to go while I... sort things out.” Gustavo somehow made himself stand taller, trying to prove the confidence in which was already heard in his voice and to also prepare for the possibility of you finally reacting in the way that your body had wanted to for hours. 

But despite what he had envisioned playing out, or tried to predict, it was pretty much the opposite. In fact, the only proper reaction to his words was your shoulders deflating, ridding your muscles of its constant worry. 

And then you crossed your arms over your chest, sniffing as you did so, “And what about Jesse... Mr. White? What-- What about them?” you questioned, waiting for the words to settle before you looked back into those other pair of eyes, only to find that the look from earlier had repossessed his face, “It may not seem like it, but I assure you, Y/n.”

“Mr. Pinkman and Mr. White can handle it themselves.”

For the first time throughout the entire day, you felt the want to smile. “Okay then.” You nodded your head once, your grip tightening on your arms as you took a step backwards, “Thank you, uh... Mr. Fring. It seems you have saved me again.”

“Gus. Call me Gus, and please, there is no need to thank me.” Gustavo started up before you could even try to turn in the direction of your car, “It comes under being an employee.”

Your body stilled after about one more steps backwards, your eyes narrowing at the man before you, playfully, “Then how come I haven’t heard you getting protective when someone else makes a mistake?”

Gustavo mirrored the look on your face, “I wasn’t... I wasn’t being... protective?” In his case, however, he wasn’t doing it in a teasing sort of manner, he was just genuinely confused at the comment. “I simply understood the situation and acted accordingly.”

Your arms loosened in your hold until they lowered to your sides once again, “And yet you defended me.” If you were close enough to Gustavo you would probably have started circling him, “Even though I was in the wrong... both times.”

Gustavo unfurrowed his brows, “You weren’t in the wrong just because some man has an incorrect idea of authority… and a very poor concept of time.” His tone was the flattest you had ever heard it. There was no emotion behind it until the words of... slight insult. 

The urge to smile grew stronger that had you pressing your lips together to stop yourself from letting out a laugh. “Still,” Though, after a moment, you managed to compose yourself, “If you hadn’t arrived when you did...”

Gustavo huffed air through his nose, bowing his head a tad before he let it shake a few times. When he looked back up it was clear that he was trying to hold back whatever was wanting to take over his face, but you could see it in his eyes. 

“Go home.”

There was this feeling of giddiness begging to erupt in your chest. It spread a warmth to every part of your body until it was a collective feeling. It caught you of guard, causing the smile you were trying to hide begin to curl at your lips.

So, after a sharp breath and a nod as a thanks, you sort of ducked away, twisting yourself around so that you could make your way towards your car. 

However, the nearer that you got to the vehicle, it seemed there was a thought pushing itself further and further to the centre of your mind. It may have been more of a feeling, as you weren’t entirely sure that you wanted to go back to your house.

I mean, sure, being able to take a nice long shower, grab a bite to eat, and completely flop on your bed sounded... Well, pretty nice actually. 

But the next session for a batch was now going to be days away. 

Days from your work and a certain Fring. 

You had completely stilled about a step away from your car. There was a quiet breath that huffed through your nose, one that only you could hear, “You know what, actually.”and then you turned on your heel, the concrete practically scuffing under your shoe. “I’ve worked for you for quite some time now, and yet…”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been inside your restaurant.”

The man your eyes managed to focus on seemed to be closer than he was the last time you saw him. A fact that made your brain almost completely miss the words that came out of his mouth. “Well, it’s not an obligation.” 

There was something about the look on his face. Something about the way he pressed his lips together immediately after he finished speaking. He may have assured that the visit wasn’t needed, but... there might have still been a want. 

“What hours is it open?” you asked, the sound of your voice almost echoing through the parking area, even if the noises from the active laundromat were louder. 

Gustavo’s head slightly rose after a moment, one of his brows slightly twitching as he processed your question. And then he cleared his throat, “That would depend on the day.” he informed, readjusting the hands he still held behind his back. 

You hummed in response, letting your gaze fall into the distance as you thought.

Honestly, after the past few hours you could barely remember what part of the week you were in right now. So, instead, you thought back to what a usual week would look like. 

What was the day that was perfectly set between the times you would possibly be able to see Gustavo at work? Right in the middle?

“How about Thursday?” you suggested, now watching as Gustavo began to make his way across the concrete, slightly nodding his head, “Then... Seven to ten, I believe.” 

“All right,” you breathed out, the speed in which your heart beat increased the more the man approached. “One less lunch to plan for the week.” You practically gulped as you reached backwards, fingers patting against the cool metal of the vehicle for a moment until they located the handle. 

Gustavo stilled himself about three steps in front of you, the look on his face signalling that he was thinking about something as he wasn’t making direct eye contact, “Actually... I would suggest to come around dinner time.” 

Just as you were about to tug on the handle, your hand froze, along with pretty much every other part of your body. 

The man was now looking right at you, his voice sort of timid in a way that caught you even more off guard. And apparently himself too. “It’s... more quiet.” He cleared his throat, “Less people around.”

Your arm slowly moved back to your side, releasing the warm handle from any sort of grasp. 

There was a fight going on in your chest. A want to give into the urge of running away like you would’ve done in a situation close to this as a kid. But you weren’t a child anymore, far from it. 

It took a good moment for any sound to be able to roll off of your tongue. And as soon as something eventually had, it was like your lungs remembered how to properly function. “Will you be there?” 

You felt younger. The two of you may have been stood pretty much right in front of the other, yet neither of you could maintain eye contact longer than a few seconds before you collectively had to look away, no matter how confident either one of you tried to seem.

Gustavo cleared his throat, though it sounded like it had barely done anything. “I believe so.” he finally confirmed, and regardless of the fact that his voice was still quiet, there was this tone that took over his words. 

“Well, good...” That giddy feeling returned, even if it had probably never left. “I think I probably would still go if you weren’t there, but... it would be a lot less... fun.”

The man before you let the slightest smile curl at a side of his mouth, “Well, we wouldn’t want that now would we?” He sounded more breathy this time, a natural progression from his already quiet voice. But it wasn’t because of nerves, or a reaction of his lungs, which you had initially thought. It was intentional.  

“Not at all.” Your voice in question was more full than his, however, there was this slight whisper to it, as if Gustavo should be the only person allowed to hear it. 

“Then it’s settled,” he began, slightly lowering his head in away that had your back pressing into your car. His normal tone had seeped back through his words like he was back in boss mode. But not quite Gustavo Fring just yet. “How does... eight o’clock sound? Unless you eat earlier?”

Your head shook practically without a second of hesitance. The ability to move your lips was barely thereso you resorted to moving to the side, finally pulling on the handle of your car door until it swung out far enough that you could stand behind it. 

You could see Gustavo raise his eyebrows just the slightest as the door had created a sort of separation, and it had you biting back a grin. “It’s perfect.” you insisted, trying to sound as neutral as possible despite the, possibly, clear ways you felt at that moment. 

And then you lowered yourself into the car, having to slightly shifted backwards a little bit to properly get into the drivers seat before you swung your legs inside.  

Your hand grasped the inside of your door, your fingers making certain that they had a good grip, before your eyes landed on the figure through the glass of the window that hadn’t moved an inch.

And then you smiled. 

“Gus.”

[pupkashi]

hi jess, congrats on your milestone! can i request the prompt:  “god you’re bleeding! how the hell did you do that?” “i was trying to cut the tomatoes!” for nanami with a reader who doesn’t really know how to cook. thank u <3

hi friend ! sorry for taking so long to get to this, i hope you enjoy !! <3 srry for any typos not proofread :(

dinner was usually a task nanami did by himself. taking the time to decompress and make a loving meal for the two of you, often times having you hand him seasonings when you watched.

it wasn’t that you didn’t want to cook, in fact you always begged him to let you help out, you didn’t want the burden to weigh heavily on his shoulders. it was a matter of you being a terrible cook.

the first time you’d attempted to make chicken for the two of you, the edges were burnt and you’d somehow managed to leave the center just a tinge pink. when you tried to make breakfast in bed for him, the eggs weren’t completely cooked, causing nanami to spend a couple hours in the restroom.

and so there you stood, counting down the hours until your beloved kento walked through the front doors. you could picture it now, the candles lit, him in his uniform with his loose tie and sleeves rolled up.

‘oh honey did you do all this for me?’

‘course i did baby! i can cook now, you have one less thing to worry about’

‘you’re so perfect my y/n, I’m never going to leave you’

your daydream was cut short by the burning smell coming from the stove, eyes wide as you cursed, opening a window and throwing out the burnt chicken.

it’s fine, you thought, i still have two hours left, i can do this!

you did not have this.

there were bandaids on three of your fingers, the poorly cut veggies sitting in a bowl besides you as you grabbed the tomato. you were completely focused, so focused that you didn’t hear nanami open the door, much less his footsteps over the sound of the sizzling in the pans next to you.

and as you went for the first cut of the tomato, your eyes wandered to the window, seeing his reflection. for some reason your hand didn’t register your brain telling it stop chopping, leading to you cutting yet another finger.

“ken hi!” you smiled, setting the knife down and walking over to the sink, letting the warm water flow over the fresh cut.

“hello my lov- oh my god are you bleeding?” he was quick to rush to your side, eyes wide as he took your hands in his, “how the hell did you do that? it’s so deep!” his honey eyes are looking into yours with worry, “let me get a bandaid” he’s kissing the top of your head softly before b-lining to the restroom, emerging with a bandaid in hand seconds later.

“i was trying to cut the tomatoes” you mumble, a pour on your lips.

it’s after he’s placed the bandaid over your cut with the softest hands, kissing over it gently and looking at you with pure adoration in his eyes that the scene of it all finally hits him.

“why are you cooking?” there’s a smile he’s fighting off his lips, but he’s losing very badly, especially when you furrow your brows up at him and cross your arms over your chest.

“I can’t cook for my lover anymore? what is this an interrogation?” your defensive tone only has him melting even more, glancing over the stove and pointing.

“what’s that supposed to be?” your shoulders slump at yet another piece of butchered meat, mumbling a ‘chicken’ before sighing.

“i just wanted to make your day easier” your eyes meeting his as you continue, “you’ve been so exhausted and i wanted to lift at least some of that weight off your shoulders” you’re uncrossing your arms, fiddling with your fingers before he’s taking one of your hands in his, the other coming under your chin, tilting your head up towards him.

“you already make my days easier, my love” his voice calming as he smiled down at you, “you don’t know how much you do for me.” there’s sincerity dripping off his words, and the way he’s looking at you has your knees a little weak.

“cmon little chef, let’s order takeout” he smiles, sweeping you off your feet and placing you on the couch, handing you his phone, “choose whatever you want, I’ll be back after i shower” he says, kissing your forehead before walking into your shared bedroom.

maybe you couldn’t bare the burden of cooking, but you could always manage to make him smile and his days a little brighter with your soft smiles and gentle touches.

[morehotch]

[8:02 PM]

when aaron walks into your shared apartment, you’re for once thankful that jack is at jess’s for the night. you immediately stand up, chest tightening just looking at his bloody lip, the small scratches on his cheeks and forehead, and bandaged ear. he looks entirely exhausted and hurting; watching him makes your heart sink and breath hitch. 

aaron warned you that he was a little ‘banged up’ from the unsub when they confronted him; he called you from the jet before they took off, detailing how he and morgan went in to successfully save the unsub’s last victim before he set off one last bomb. still, no words could prepare you for how you feel when he walks in the door. you never feel okay seeing him after a case; always on some level mentally and physically exhausted- but this. 

you suck in a deep breath, tears instantly welling up in your eyes as aaron’s brows furrow and his frown deepens. you can immediately tell he feels bad for upsetting you and you hate it. you hate everything about him coming home so broken and exhausted yet still so determined to be strong for you. 

“honey,” aaron starts, loosening his tie and walking towards you, “i’m okay, i promise.”

you stand to hug him carefully, thumbing over his cheek that doesn’t have a bandage on it. “you need some new bandages and ice,” you decide softly. 

“you don’t have to do that,” he whispers but it’s not convincing as you shake your head adamantly. “i want to. let me help you, please.”

aaron doesn’t say anything, only nodding, as you get up and he follows you into the bathroom. you pull things out of the first aid kit you keep tucked away in the bathroom. usually it was reserved for jack’s soccer games and other unpredictable kid activities but times like these it was always helpful too. 

“stay still,” you mutter and aaron immediately obliges. he looks up at you through hooded eyes that gaze at you with so much admiration that you’re momentarily distracted by their intensity. 

just by your face alone, aaron must be able to tell you don’t think he’s okay. 

“i already got cleared by the medic at the scene, honey.” his voice is thick but he’s not fighting you. you can tell he feels guilty. 

the way he says it so casually and the way his eyes contain such a raw form of honesty make you look away momentarily, knowing how easily convinced you are by him.

“i don’t care.” you say it with such sternness that aaron doesn’t bother arguing with you anymore as you begin to refocus on re-bandaging his ear. “i still want to take care of you,” you whisper, disinfecting his cuts and wiping the excess blood from his face.

but the further you examine his injuries, the more concerned you become. “you need ice for the swelling, they didn’t give you ice? maybe you should call your doctor tomorrow for your ear, especially because of your injury a few years ago.” you hear yourself ramble frantically, trying not to get worked up as you grasp tightly onto his cold hand, looking around your bathroom for anything to soothe his irritated skin.

“it’s okay,” aaron looks up, managing a reassuring smile and searching your eyes in an attempt to ground you.

“no, no it’s not,” you say, pouting, “you can’t come back to me all bloody and bruised.” you suck in a deep breath as your thoughts overwhelms you entirely, “i don’t like it.” you try to wipe your watering eyes and stop your fumbling lip. you turn away from him to face the sink, hating how weak you feel when aaron is always so incredibly strong for you.  

he looks up at you and feels bad. aaron doesn’t say anything, what can he say? he has always been scared, terrified, that you would slowly grow tired of the repetitive wounds, days without seeing him, and his constant, demanding work.

he fears someday you’ll decide that you’re tired of all the baggage that comes with him; the pain and suffering he brought home weekly or all the nights you’ve spent staying up waiting, worried, and scared. aaron wouldn’t blame you if you were tired of all of it.

but you never are. you’re different from anything aaron has ever seen or experienced. your touches are delicate and careful, roaming his body softly and gently, like no one else ever has. you take care of him and listen. you understand and always try to understand. you love jack, love him, and it’s so encompassing and beautiful that aaron hates when you have to see him like this. 

you can easily tell what he’s thinking about, the guilt that he permanently carries on his shoulders. “i’m not leaving,” you say quietly, gripping his chin carefully and urging him to look up at you. you smooth a hand over his shoulder, still covered by his dress shirt. 

“i know,” he whispers hoarsely.

“i want you to feel extra sure then,” you smile, letting his arms snake around your hips to pull you closer as his head buries into your leg, covered by your soft pajama pants.  

it’s silent for a few moments and aaron shows no signs of moving, head still resting on your hip, eyes glued to your bathroom counter; your toothbrushes in a cup together. the shampoo you always use that smells like mango, your lives so perfectly intertwined together. 

you say after a moment of silence, continuing. “i think you need a reminder sometimes,” you whisper, hand running through his hair. you toss the old bandage in the trash, bending to kiss the crown of his head, “i’ll always stay because i love you.” 

and aaron entirely believes you. 

[a-romantics-guide-to-life]

╰┈ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐭 ┈➤

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : liam could’ve sworn this was the first time you’d met, so why does he feel like you know him better then he knew himself?

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : reincarnation modern!au, billy isn’t billy but rather liam, and he’s an actor, this part is pretty long

𝐚/𝐧 : inspired by my friends shenanigans and talks of reincarnation! hope you enjoy!!

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

William loved Billy the Kid.

Your very own kid brother, WIlliam, had declared his own nickname to be Billy because of just how much he loved the famous western legend. Ever since you had told him of the old famed outlaw, he’s been obsessed. He changed his nickname, his clothing style, he even tried speaking in a drawled western accent like they did the old black and white cowboy shows, which Billy also loved.

He printed and weathered his very own copies of the Kid’s wanted posters, decorating our small ranch house with homemade wanted posters of me, himself, and our Pa. He printed vintage movie posters and the famous old photo of Billy the Kid to show off to anyone who'd visit your little gem in the middle of nowhere in Southern California. He even begged you and your father to teach him how to shoot just so he can connect with his hero. 

Billy had also coerced you into sewing him trousers and a blouse just like the Kid wore in his iconic wanted poster. He would steal your fathers hats and boots as well as your wine red cardigan, walk outside, toothpick in mouth, playing pretend.

Billy’d pretend that he was in the famed Lincoln County War, surrounded by Jesse Evans and his gang of misfits employed under Murphy and the House. He’d use his pretend gun and shoot all the bad guys down just as Billy the Kid had at the burning McSween house.

Of course, as Billy grew up, so did you. You had left your father’s ranch, your home, and moved to Los Angeles to finish high school and attend university. 

In university, you ended up studying history and visual communication. You loved history, tales of old, myths and legends, all of it. You were the one who taught your kid brother about the famed Billy the Kid on a road trip through the American South-West once after all.

It was your senior year of high school when you had finally found your calling. During that school year, you had found yourself signed up for a theater class. However, you were terrible at acting. You couldn’t memorize lines and your singing voice was locked up in your shower, the key thrown away and never to be found. 

Of course, your best friend, Lucy, had gotten the lead role of the play. She was born and raised in Hollywood, the land of movie magic. She was a natural, her improv and memorization skills making her one of the top people in that theater class. Her voice was akin to a sweet angel which is why the musical theater club always cast her as the lead, even in musicals such as Shrek where she played the big, burly green ogre to perfection. 

However, Lucy was very particular about her costumes. She loved you for that exact reason. You, ever since you were a child, had been talented at sewing and costume making. And on top of that, you loved historical processes and authenticity. So, of course in an attempt to include you in their play, Lucy sang praises about your skill as a designer and a historian to your teacher who had awarded you with the title “Art Director”, whatever that meant.

What did matter was that you had the time of your life. Being an expert on history, especially the Wild West which was where the play was set in, you were considered the saving grace of the play. You had led the costume department, aka you and one other classmate, in creating historical-ish costumes for each and every one of the 21 different characters. You had also led the stage crew in creating the backdrops and settings with props which all were weathered by you to look as if you had plucked them straight out of Gunsmoke or even Bonanza. 

You had discovered your love for design and history there, carrying that love with you as you went on to enhance your studies in college. As time passed on, you started to post your creations online, oftentimes getting commissioned to create costumes and even design pro global pieces based on time periods or films. Most of these posts of course were of Lucy in her costumes she asked you to make for her for her plays and musicals as she went on to professionally act and perform in live performances and movies. 

Naturally, as your account and following grew, so did your opportunities. Soon, you found yourself being contacted by actors and actresses alike, asking you to design their premiere looks. Even movie studios contracted you as a consultant to help with their movies. Of course, you accepted the position. Even your papa and Billy had been ecstatic to hear about your new passion, especially so when you told them about your new consultant gig.

After accepting the job as a historical design consultant for movie studios, you often found yourself working with costume departments, helping make sure the costumes seemed plausible for their time period. You were consulted with on set designs, making sure furniture and other items on set actually existed during that time period. Everyday, you were working on something new, using history and your knowledge to bring cinematic artworks to life, transporting actors and viewers to a time or place.

Needless to say, you loved your job.

Even more so, the perks of said job.

You were paid a handsome check every month for just doing what you loved. You were invited to gala’s and dinners alike to celebrate the movies and shows you worked on. And not only that, because you were a consultant, you worked primarily from home only and for the most part, on your own time. 

You were provided with the lush fabrics and delicate threads to create costumes and pieces. You were able to use a plethora of old sewing machines from one of the very first manual spinning ones to one of the most rare, a model from 1938 of which only 43 remain.

Your ‘office’ had to be your favorite perk of working in the movie industry though. It was located on the movie studios backlot in a building called ‘Creator’s Heaven’ because it was one of the largest creative spaces in all of Hollywood. It was an upscale warehouse with shelves towering with different fabrics, lace, and threads. It had rooms called “Makers Space” dedicated to sewing with TV’s and speakers fit for a movie theater to help with boredom when sewing by hand (although it does nothing for concentration especially when one’s favorite actor is on screen). 

You also were given permission to create your own private projects in the Maker Spaces, even if you had to lug all your own materials to the rooms yourself. You loved putting on your favorite movie or show while you created costumes as a private designer or even for yourself. Of course, that’s how you found yourself in one of the rooms one warm night in late July. 

You had promised your brother that you would make him a new costume for the Old Lincoln Days festival in New Mexico you went to every year. It was always one of the highlights of your lonely summers in LA. Your papa and lil Billy still lived on your darling little ranch which always made you homesick when your Pa would video call you and show you how much the cattle had grown or how full the fields were.

But every summer, you drove down south, picking up Billy, costumes in hand. You would then endure the incredibly dull landscape of the South-West for three days, stopping along other towns every now and then to rest, eat, and even stay the night. 

You spent the drive singing to the songs on the radio in your little SUV, AC on full blast, the cool air would sting your noses but keep you from roasting alive in the heat of the sun. You would talk with Billy about his schooling, how life was going for you too. But by far, your favorite part had to be about how Billy’s eyes lit up at every mention of the movies you helped make. Truth was, while Billy still loved Billy the Kid, he also has fallen in love with many many other movies. 

Sometimes, when your father would drive all the way to LA with Billy to visit you, you would also take Billy with you to work as an assistant of some sorts. Billy always was so energetic and buzzed with happiness whenever you did bring him along. 

You always enjoyed seeing your Papa and Billy, even if it was only ever on a video call. You loved getting to see your baby brother grow up into middle school then to high school. He had decided to stay with your Pa, helping out on the ranch and attending school in town. He had grown so much too. He nearly towered over you at the tender age of 15. His legs may have grown longer but his smile still stayed as boyish as it always was.

Which is why you loved your road trips to New Mexico. Even if it was only for a little under a week, you loved getting time to spend with your kid brother. Billy and you also loved getting to dress up like they did in the Wild Wild West too. You always made sure to update Billy’s costume because of how much he grew in a year. But you? You always always wore the same get up. Dark chestnut trousers that met your hips, straps pulled over your shoulders which lay on top of your deep red blouse. Even a gun belt, the leather hanging a little loose on your waist.

You never knew why you always wore the same old clothes but it always felt right to wear when you visited New Mexico. 

Liam loathed driving to New Mexico. 

He didn’t understand why but it always felt wrong. And yet here he was, Garett and Evan in tow, his best friends in the entire world. 

Growing up, Billy didn’t have much. His family moved from the big city to New Mexico in fact. His Ma worked night and day as part of the local Inn’s housekeeper. His Pa worked out on the ranches and farms, helping whoever would pay him while Liam stayed home in their small two bedroom cabin with his baby brother Jo. 

Naturally, as both Jo and Liam got older, they too started to work. Liam helped his Ma and Pa however he could. He learned to ride a horse to help herd the cattle, harvest wheat and grain, how to herd cattle, how to sew, clean, and cook. He worked hard at night, helping his Ma at the Inn while going to school in the morning with Jo.

And that’s exactly how Liam’s life went on for the next ten years. Slaving the day away at school, trying to get an education while working at night to try and help pay the bills. 

Yet it was in New Mexico that Liam had found his passion.

It was Liam’s 17th summer alive when his Pa had surprised him with a trip to Lincoln. The occasion? It had been a celebration of the official end of the Lincoln County war. The festival had been held for many years now, many tourists coming to visit the famous Old Lincoln Days festival where they celebrated Billy the Kid and his famous legend. 

Little did all those tourists know, drive a little more North and you’d find that the Lincoln days weren’t too far gone.

Of course, Liam’s Pa didn’t do anything without good reason. It had taken Liam a little over five years to convince his father that they needed a car, the reason his Pa finally cracked? Liam told him that it had an A/C. 

Turns out, the real reason that Liam’s Pa had taken him to Lincoln that fateful summer was all because he had signed up Liam for the lead role in the famous shooting reenactment. Every year, the first weekend of August, the festival would kick off with it’s old timey cantina’s and saloons. They even had elaborate Wild West costumes and ‘cowboys’ that would ride their steeds up and down the street, talking in drawled accents and jumbled up lingo that had to have been made up. They would take swigs from flasks and chew on long stems of wheat that rested in between their teeth.

Liam hated it. It sends shivers down his spine every time he even feels a whisper of a memory of that first time he played the Kid in the festival his father had volunteered him for.

Liam had only had three days to practice the scene, yet it was almost like muscle memory for him. They were reenacting the scene where Sheriff Pat Garrett shoots and kills the Kid. 

It truthfully felt as if he had been in that exact same position. Why or when? Liam could never figure it out, no matter how much he wracked around his jumble of memories.

It was as if he had actually been walking down the streets of Lincoln, after dinner presumably. It was as if he felt the malicious eyes of Garett staring him down as he asked 

“¿Quién es? ¿Quién es?“. 

It almost felt right to fall to the Sheriff’s gun, almost as if he truly was William H Bonney who had lost everyone he’s ever loved to death who also begged for the sweet relief that he would find in the afterlife.

It always irked Liam. Nevertheless, he was just grateful that he got paid. 

As the years passed, Liam started to fall in love with the role, volunteering every year up until he moved away for college. He wasn’t Billy every year, once he was actually Sheriff Garrett, but he always got to work with his best friends Evan and Garett, who he actually met at 17 while volunteering. In fact the three were so close that they all moved together to sunny California from arid New Mexico. 

And they have been together ever since. They all fell in love with theater and acting, especially during the re-enactments they all did in the festival back home. The trio attended community college together, renting a small two bedroom apartment together. They all worked their asses off to make rent each month while studying Trigonometry and American History.

As for how they survived in a two bedroom apartment? Well, thanks to their very special schedules with work and school, only two of them would ever be sleeping at one time. Evan couldn’t properly function until at least 2 PM which meant that he slept through the morning and was out late at night. Garrett also had a very unique schedule, rather than sleeping ten hours at once, he split it up. He’d wake up bright and early at 4 AM, leaving for his morning job down at the police station where he helped sort paperwork and whatever, come back to the apartment to nap from a little after lunch till 6 PM where he and Evan would usually go out for drinks before attending class together.

Liam never really understood how those two functioned drunk on beer, learning in the middle of the night, and working odd hours. Liam had prided himself on being the most responsible of course. He’d wake up early as well, attending classes in the morning until lunch rolled around where he’d go to his job at an old family-owned diner. 

He loved working at that little diner, it never failed to remind him of his Ma who also ran a diner and bakery back in New Mexico. She’d even open up a little pop up shop in Lincoln in time for the festival where she attracted tourists and locals alike with her delightful baked goods and savory dishes she spent hours on preparing.

It was moments like those that Liam thought of on the hard days. As the trio worked through community college, they also all started auditioning for other roles and jobs. Of course, being young and new to the whole acting scene, rarely did anyone choose the kids from the middle of nowhere New Mexico.

That is, until they held auditions for a rendition of the famous Billy the Kid story. Garett had been talking to an agent who had managed many many famous actors who were looking for new blood. It was through that agent that he had found the audition which he told the boys. Of course, Liam was ecstatic. At 20, Liam had been faced with countless empty email inboxes when it came to roles he auditioned for. Even Evan and Garett had consistently pulled Ad and modeling gigs. So, as one does when one is down on their luck, Liam remarked,

“Fuck it, what do I gotta lose?”

Liam regards that moment of uncertainty when he closed his eyes and clicked ‘Sign Up For Audition’ as the best thing he’s ever done. 

He had driven to the theater where they were holding auditions all by himself since neither of the other two were gonna audition for any of the roles since they had booked another Ad campaign the week before. 

In honesty, Liam was so nervous waiting in that line that slithered through the hallways filled with other boys and men around his age, height, and build. He could still feel the way that his hands nervously shook as he reread the script over and over and over again. He was usually good at memorizing things like math formulas and other lines of plays and musicals yet he just felt so jittery. Perhaps it was because he was playin’ Billy the Kid, a character he’s played before. Perhaps it was because he was from New Mexico and he had a hankering to do one of his states heroes good.

Regardless, Liam still walked straight ahead onto the stage, performing the lines as best as he could without choking on the words. Of course, Lady Luck refused to grace Liam at that moment where he had forgotten the line. He panicked and scrambled to recall all those years of playing Billy, speedily racking his brain for any form of assistance it could relay him with. 

Of course, his brain ran on empty, nothing came out of his mouth. Or well, nothing came out of his mouth but his hands moved on instinct. Liam had quickly raised his gun from the belt they had given him to use as a prop. He channeled each of those years of learning how to actually shoot a gun as well as how to quickly draw it to move his arm at lightning speed. 

And it must’ve worked because the casting directors yelled cut on the tape, urging Liam to come close to the table they sat at. They then truly surprised Liam by asking where he had learned to draw that fast. Liam explained that he had grown up in a small town just a bit away from Lincoln where he had learned almost everything he knew from his loving Pa.

He told them about his family, the farm he grew up on, and his experience on stage as Billy. They applauded him and snag praises of his ability as well as his knowledge on the outlaw. In truth, Liam was relieved that the casting directors had been impressed with his quick draw.

The pride Liam felt as the casting directors sent everyone else in line away as they started sharing the timeline and filming details. He felt his chest swell with happiness and giddiness as they began discussing the script and how the hours were gonna look while filming. 

That day has truly been one for the books, seeing as Liam did journal. 

He loved recounting and writing about his days and feelings. He always felt it was right from when he was younger till today, it just felt right. Yet, it was the one thing he couldn’t explain, it felt as if he had done it before. 

But when?

The streets of Lincoln were alive with the buzz of laughter, happiness, and the allure of the Wild Wild West. The streets were filled with people who had arrived early to celebrate the Old Lincoln Days. 

Of course, that group of people also included you and your brother.

You two would consistently try to get to the event early to enjoy all the festivities that were available. You would take your eager brother to the shooting range where you could shoot pellet shotguns at cans as they did in the old days to practice their aim. You would drag your poor brother to each of the shops to look at the lovely pieces of jewelry that artisans made.

Walking around the small town, you truly felt transported into the Old Lincoln days with people dressed up in all sorts of get ups from modern day cowboys, to old American debutantes. You loved the aura the town held as they celebrated their past. No matter how dark it was.

“Hey sis?” Billy's meek voice pulled your attention from the third jewelry store of the night. You loved looking at the dazzling gold and silver, you especially were fascinated by the deep dark blue sapphires that were lined up on the display.

“Yea Billy,” you turn to him, looking into his eyes that mirrored your fathers own. “Something wrong?”

“Nothing, just wonderin’ why you never buy anything from these jewelry stores that you visit every year.” You chuckled. Billy asked that every single year and every single year your answer was the same,

“Cause Billy, I got my trusty necklace. What else would I need? You know I just like browsing.” You smiled, slowly walking away from the stall. Your fingers instinctively found their way to your neck where lo and behold, your necklace was still hung loose from your neck.

Truth was you never could remember how you came into possession of the lovely chain. All you knew is that ever since you were young you remembered wearing the chain with a charm of a worn bullet swinging from the end of it. Even your father couldn’t recall when you had started wearing the necklace, it was as if it had been with you since the beginning of time.

“Well, can we start un-browsing and get some food at that one pub inside that old hotel?” He looked at you in his dapper new get up consisting of a simple dark striped blouse and trousers. However, the new gun belt around his waist was very much not simple. It had nearly taken you three hours alone to prep the tough leather you had used to create it. You could still feel the rough texture of the leather underneath your fingertips, the feeling of having to push and pull the thick needle up and down through the strong material. It had been a pain to make but seeing how happy your brother had looked when he wore it for the first time was worth it. 

“Sure, why don’t we even grab some of those pastries you love so much while we’re at it?” You sling an arm around Billy’s tall frame, walking towards the small pop-up bakery your brother adored.

“Yes!” He laughed, sprinting to the shop in three seconds flat thanks to his inherently long legs. He quickly picked up his favorite pastry, turning to you once he got to the young boy at the cash register who couldn’t have been more than three years older than your own brother.

You smiled as they started talking, looking at the other wonderfully tasty looking breads that were on display.

“See anything you like dear?” You looked up at the woman behind the counter, her dark hair and warm eyes inviting you into conversation.

“Well, everything looks very delicious ma’am. I’m guessing you’re the mastermind behind these amazing pastries?” You smiled warmly at the woman.

“Why yes I am, my lovely son Jo is manning the register this year too. He's grown up so well, just like his brother.” 

You turned to look at the two boys again, Billy showing Jo something on his phone.

“My own brother, Billy over there, absolutely loves your baked goods. Every year when we’re here, he has to come here to buy something at least once a day.” 

“What loyal customers you two are! Your brother there reminds me of my ow-”

“MA!” Jo’s voice carried from the register, “can I go with Billy here to the pub? Liam texted and told me to meet him there and Billy here said he and his sis are already gunna go.”

Jo’s Ma sighed and chuckled at her son, her head shaking as she smiled, “Yes of course you can go meet up with your brother at the pub.” She quickly folded a box up, filling it to the brim with pastries. Nimbly, she folded the lid before walking to her son, taking his un-tied apron from him. 

“Here, since you two have been coming here for years, why don’t you take this box of pastries, on the house.” Billy lit up, singing thanks ecstatically. He and Jo rushed out of the small shop, running towards the pub. You quietly thanked the lady for the pastries as you followed the two trouble makers out and back into the hustle and bustle of Lincoln.

You quickly catch up to the boys who have already pushed open the doors of the small but packed pub. There were tables crowded with people dressed as cowboys and sheriffs all toasting to the Regulators, people dressed as debutantes munching on tamales made by locals, and even people just in plain tees knocking down shots of tequila. 

It was a very familiar scene and most definitely a welcome sight.

Billy and Jo sat down at one of the tables, further away from the bar of course, eagerly discussing their clothes which Jo was wearing a very similar version of. You sat down next to Billy, looking around as they happily chatted their head off in the already loud space.

They placed their order, continuing to chatter off about Billy the Kid and the reenactment happening tomorrow. You looked around, observing the costumes people wore.

“Hey Jo, who’re these folks?”

Your head snapped up at the sound of a rich, deep voice. You raised your head to look at the man who had just strolled on over to your table.

Liam had walked into the pub expecting his younger brother to be seated at their usual booth. What Liam hadn't expected was for his lil’ brother to be accompanied by another boy around his age and a woman. Where had a boy as young as Jo even found a girl to pick up already? 

Liam walked on over only to be met with a view like no other. You were no girl, you were an angel. And when you looked up at Liam with those bright round eyes, Liam could have died a happy man. Everything caught his attention, your wavy hair in an updo, your soft lips which were begging to be kissed, and your necklace, a bullet hanging in between the valley of your chest. 

“Liam!” Jo jumped, startling you out of your trance. You had been shocked by Jo’s older brother, Liam. His hair was the loveliest chestnut waves that begged for fingers to run through. He wore a dark blue blouse and deep burgundy trousers. His eyes were what captivated you the most. His deep blue eyes reminded you of the beautifulest sapphires that even the color of the ocean and night sky couldn’t even hope to beat.

Jo stood up, sending his chair back as he hugged his brother’s torso. Liam chuckled, sending shivers down your spine, committing the sound to memory. You smiled at the interaction which reminded you so much of yourself and Billy. 

All four of you sat down again as the food arrived. You all shared the food, Jo and Billy continuing to chatter leaving you and Liam to your devices as you sat across from each other. You two averted your eyes from one another, heat rising to both your cheeks nervous to talk to the other. 

Liam tried not to stare, really, but you were mesmerizing. You shined brighter than any star could, and your smile? Liam only caught a glimpse of it and yet he knew that the warm feeling he felt in his chest was not heat exhaustion.

“Sooo,” you started, trying to get the man across from you talking again,” I’m Billy here’s older sister, by the way. I don’t know if you need to or even want to know but my name’s,” you drawled, your voice getting quieter and quieter until you uttered your name.

Liam perked up at that, meeting your eyes once more. Where had he heard that name before?

He whispered your name and you could have sworn that the room had gotten 100 degrees hotter from the way his deep voice drawled the syllables of your name. “ As in the famous Billy the Kid’s lover?”

You shook your head chuckling. In all the years you have been alive, there has never been a moment where the first connection someone made with your name was the ill fated lover of William H Bonney. 

“Yes, exactly that. How do you know that?”

“Well it ain’t that hard to connect darlin’, your kid brother’s the outlaw ‘n your his girl. Your parents must’ve loved the Kid.”

“Well actually, it was me who sparked Billy’s nickname, his real name’s William though so I guess he is the Kid. isn’t he?”

Liam laughed at that, small world isn’t it?

“Hey! What’s so funny over there mister?” You sternly gazed at the man. From afar, one could argue that Liam looked young and spry but once you take a closer look, he isn’t a boy at all. He's pure man, all six feet of him. Taut muscle toned his body which was broad and clean. 

“Nothin’ darlin’, just, it’sa small world ain’t it? My name’s William too.” He smiled and your heart skipped a beat. You felt your lips turn upwards at the man in front of you.

“Well then, Mr. William, what do you do for a living?”

You smile as Liam happily responds, continuing the conversation late into the night. Even Billy and Jo had left to go roam around the festival. You and Liam continued your happy chatter, a small tug pulling at your heartstrings.

You’ve met before right? That's impossible, you two clearly have never seen each other. Yet why was it like Liam knew you better than anyone? Why did it feel as if you had already shared these smiles and laughs?

Was this even the night you two had first met?

sorry that its so long and it TOOK FOREVER to post, just been real busy anyways, i hope you enjoyed!

[dragonbma]

Miscellaneous Sky City folk (mainly Reginald and Milo) rambles because I can:

Being the head guard, Captain Reginald’s main priorities are tending to Benedict and Isa. What time he doesn’t spend with them, he’s usually at the jail making sure order is maintained and prisoners are well-kept. Because of this, he doesn’t spend much time outside with the residents of Sky City like the other guards do.

Being so close with Benedict, Reginald understands how crucial every little resource is. In his eyes, the worst crime (aside from harming the Eversource) is to purposely throw something into the void.

Reginald first met Milo when he was imprisoned for “egregious wasting of resources.” The captain was appalled to hear someone had dropped a block over the edge, but upon overhearing a conversation between Milo and another cellmate, he quickly learned it was an accident and felt bad for the poor man lamenting the loss of his garden. He did attempt to convince Isa to let Milo out, explaining things as a misunderstanding. However, Isa declined, stating that if she bent the rules for one person, she’d have to bend them for everyone. Although she did entrust a dirt block with Reginald to plant near Milo’s inn to replace the one he lost. :]

Time in the cell made Milo bitter. Before that, the innkeeper always been an upstanding citizen. He felt betrayed that his little mistake had not been seen as an accident considering he had no previous record of troublemaking. (Unless you count advocating for a less strict system of resource distribution troublemaking.) Chatting with Reginald was one of the only things that kept him sane in the dungeon. Milo often asked how his inn was faring without him and had occasional questions about the Eversource. I don’t have a good idea of how long he was imprisoned, but he does describe it as “a very, very long time” so I’m lead to believe a few years at least. (Maybe 5-10 or 15 at most?)

WOW WHERE HAVE I HEARD THAT BEFORE?

JOKING. I highly doubt he was in the cell for 30-40 years.

Ok sorry back to the rant. When he was finally released, Milo was overjoyed to find a dirt block with a small flower waiting for him outside the inn. He assumed one of his friends requested it for him.

The punishment for discarding resources over the edge is not only time in jail, but also having your requests for more resources revoked. This ensures that no one maliciously continues wasting materials. This is also a major reason Milo started Build Club: the law no longer allowed his requests for resources to be granted. :[

Build Club spawned out of Milo’s idea of a better world where he and his comrades had the freedom to create whatever they wanted with no regulations. It started with him rambling about his ideas to those who stayed in the inn and to his surprise, his beliefs were shared among many of them. Eventually his friends opted to save their requested resources to create the hideaway that would harbor the rebellion. Milo also had suspicions that land existed beneath the city, but Isa forbade him from trying to test his theory as it was dangerous and would likely result in loss of resources if he didn’t get himself killed first.

Guards seem unphased by outsiders which leads me to believe that people do occasionally enter Sky City, but probably use ender pearls to travel between islands? Honestly I have no good explanation for why the guards are so nonchalant to “strangers.”

The iron golem Jesse created in Build Club looks out for the residents while they get accustomed to life on the ground. It especially likes following Milo and the club members around. Isa probably questioned where the heck it came from and Milo accidentally let slip that it was from Build Club. “WHAT IS BUILD CLUB?” “Uh… oops.”

It took everyone a while to warm up to the Aiden after everything that happened, but the Blaze Rods did eventually redeem themselves.

The creeper explosion left Captain Reginald with burn scars. While he still does his best to take care of the founder, the sight or sound of a creeper causes him to freeze up.

Reginald calls Benedict “ma’am.” Send post. 🐓

Most of the folk in Sky City are tall. Not Milo though. He’s short.

Bonus: When I first played Order Up, it took me forever to choose whether to turn myself in or flee because I couldn’t decide whether I liked Reginald or Milo more. (Too many of my decisions are based on me wanting to get character dialogue.) Having played through both their paths MULTIPLE TIMES, I still can’t decide. They’re both neat.

That’s all I have. See y’all on the other side.

[lucyandherlunacy]

before i start episode 5 of minecraft story mode i thought i'd put my serious first impressions of the "wither storm arc" here

first the positives: surprisingly, i find it really entertaining how everyone talks. the little pg curse words forced into every conversation, like 'crap' and 'hell' etc.? absolute time capsule. it works for me because i can 100% believe that these are people who live in a minecraft server in the 2010s. the wither storm was an excellent threat for the first 4 episodes. genuinely one of the best monster-villains i've seen in a video game. the conflict surrounding its creation and how it spiralled out of hand mean that it can motivate meaningful character tension despite being a monster, and the way it works is honestly really cool. a regenerating, nigh-unkillable mass of destruction that drags everything around it to its death and only multiplies once it's seemingly dead for good? plus the wither sickness and amnesia it spreads and the fate of the people who get absorbed into it? love it. genuinely threatening and spooky the arc had me invested to the point that i wasn't willing to really make any kind of 'evil/mean for the hell of it' decisions in my playthrough. it felt really nice playing jesse as someone who is just earnestly a nice and caring person who tries her best and keeps her gang together. it helps that the voice actress playing femjesse sounds absolutely heavenly she killed it in this role honestly i liked jesse's character a lot more than i expected too! their inexperienced and kinda bumbling yet optimistic outlook compared to say, the kind of stoic hardened adventurer you see in petra was really fun. combined with me missing a qte or two on occasion i definitely bought into jesse as this unlikely hero that came from nothing soren, ivor, lukas and olivia were the standout characters to me in that order. idk what else to really say they're great. i liked the rest of the cast well enough even if i thought some of them were slightly underdeveloped or just didn't appeal to me personally, the former of which i'll get into in the next section. reuben the pig i can't really speak on since i have a personal bad experience with his name that made me wince every time it was said. he was cute i guess ----------------------------------------------------------------- a few criticisms: i did redstonia, and idk if this an issue unique to that area but i found it to be too short. i just kept thinking there would be more to this society or at least more buildup to meeting ellegaard. most of what you see is just people's attempts to win her favor. i especially would've liked to see more of it since it ends up getting destroyed there was only really one time that the character drama felt forced to me, and that was the start of episode 3 where lukas tries to pull the amulet off you and petra scolds you for not saving axel and reuben. it was all uphill from there but that was the only moment i really was like "yeah this is shoehorned lol" mobs are handled kind of weirdly in this game. it's a nitpick at best and not something super serious but i guess it's weird to see zombies and skeletons just kind of being treated as a given in a populous world of various humans. i dunno, i just felt that not taking advantage of the fact that half the generic monsters are the undead or even really mentioning it was a weird move i kind of wish we just had one more episode in this arc. certain moments like ellegaard's death didn't hit as hard as they should have just because i hadn't spent enough time with her to get attached. and generally i think characters like axel and petra could've done with just a little more time in the spotlight for their characters to grow. i think they needed the kind of treatment olivia got in her moment with jesse in the farlands. even having done redstonia over axel's path it really wasn't long enough to add to her character the way that moment did for me ------------------------------------------------------------------ regardless, i genuinely really liked my experience with this game despite all the silly moments. if anything they enhance the experience for me and i can't wait to play more :)