#she/her pronouns
lgbt-tiktoks · 8 months
Description: [A video of a woman riding a galloping horse bareback while holding a large rainbow flag.]
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xxacademy · 11 months
i love the two VERY different versions of hc eren that live in my mind. like, it's either muscular, mean, dominant eren. u know the type that pulls you by the hair, sinks his teeth into your skin, and tells you what a bad girl you are. the eren engulfed by jealousy and possession and is obsessed with marking you as his territory. he successfully made you into his slut and no matter how bad he is for you, you just keep coming back. he is effortlessly hot; black denim, black leather, cigarettes, and messy hair. he practically owns you and you're more than okay with it.
OR it's sweet, loving eren. his eyes are always a little sleepy-looking and he wears his long, pretty hair down. he's more of a soft-dom in bed. he knows you like it rough, but he never wants to hurt you. he is obsessed with making you happy, regardless of his own needs. he wears loose sweaters and baggy jeans, he gives you puppy dog eyes and smiles into your neck. you are his princess and he just wants to cherish you.
a/n: very quick lil eren head cannon!! i hope i'm not the only one that feels this way lol
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burnieblanders · 8 months
The boys react to the fact that mc never wears a bra♡
Lucy- attempts to force her to wear them. Fails miserably. Shell wear one just for him to see tho♡ he folds and doesnt bring it up again lol
Mam- gets flustered and jealous, but also loves seein it so he doesnt argue with a good thing
Levi- gets flustered and stares too long with no subtlety but doesnt say anything
Saty- says nothing but loves to sneak plenty of glances,  maybe hell make a snarky comment to deflect away from how much it turns him on
Asmo- puts pretty, lacy and sexy ones on her just for photos and sexy looks...like...a bra with a suit coat and dress pants and pointy pumps....thats the only time she'll wear a bra for longer than an hour lmao
Beel- loves it. Says nothing
Belph- loves it but is a dick about it lol, makes the old, "cold in here?" Comment when he sees the nip... he also tries to flick them
Dia- loves it. Says nothing lol
(When handing out t shirts for events he purposely gives her too small of a size, keepin tight shirts on those tits♡)
Barb- loves it. says nothing
Simy- tells her she should probably wear one but shes like nah honey and he never brings it up again lol
Sol- "jeez its always so chilly around solomon, its like hes a ghost" he be subtly castin cold breeze spells so them nipples are ALWAYS hard honey lpfbdldhfldsbtlkjksjks😂😂😂
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cowboyjigen · 3 months
sick day or sometimes it’s a good thing to have a boyfriend who also a doctor
warnings: third person, she/her pronouns, sorta sounds like angst but it’s not really, just law being law, being sick, general medical care but also not really, unedited
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it started with a cough. not to bad but it was kind of annoying. the side eyes from penguin and shachi were reminder enough that no one on the polar tang got sick.
everyone tried to ignore the occasional cough, knowing that drawing attention would make it worse. but not long after sneezes also filled the empty spaces between words. bepo did his best to place blame else where, ‘oh i must have missed a spot while dusting’ and ‘did the water go down wrong’ were amongst the list of excuses he used.
eventually the fever came about. and law finally started to take notice. “you’re burning up.”
“pfft thanks for telling me i had no idea.”
“you need to rest.”
“i’ll be fine, law.” y/n resisted pushing herself off the cot.
“no, that’s an order.” law retorted pushing her back down gently.
“i’m not staying here all day law! there’s stuff i need to do!”
“i said no. that’s the end of it.” and with that law walked out of the med bay and into his office. passing bepo, the navigator gave him a telling look. “she needs rest.”
“she needs a boyfriend, not a doctor or captain.” law sighed before continuing his pursuit to his office.
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a few hours had passed before law finally left the room. stepping into the kitchen he found ikkaku glaring at him. she was holding a cup of tea and a bowl of soup. “you should make yourself useful.” she said before shoving them into his hands. he more than know what she meant by that.
abandoning his own plans for food he made his way to the med bay. but before he reached the door he found himself changing direction. heavy footsteps ringing out as he made his way to his room. opening the door, he placed down the soup and tea before moving back out of the room.
he started down the hall again, stopping in front of the labeled door. he swiftly knocked twice before reaching for the handle. he found her asleep on the bed, undisturbed by his entrance. making his way over to her, he lifted her from the cot before carrying her to their shared room.
he placed her down on the bed before removing his shoes and laying down next to her, holding her close. she moved closer to his chest, a small smile on her face. law sighed before closing his own eyes.
as it turns out law was right. the next morning, she felt great. she just needed rest. but the captain was look a little worse for ware when he woke up with a fever of his own.
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isatuamor · 9 months
You’re A Fuckin’ Cunt
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Lip Gallagher x Fem!reader (she/her prns)
Brief physical abuse mention
Y/n gets sick of Lip hurting Karen, and they get into an argument about his friends-with-benefits relationship with her
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Sometimes murder is completely okay, Y/n thinks. Like when Lip is being hopelessly useless with Karen.
“Holy shit, Lip, Karen actually likes you! Please man the fuck up and tell her you like her, too!”
She’d been arguing with the second eldest Gallagher sibling for about ten minutes now, and it had gotten so bad, Carl left the shared room for peace.
“I like the way things are now! And don’t fuckin’ tell me to man up, God, you sound like fuckin’ Frank!” He smiles sarcastically, subconsciously egging his best friend on.
“Soon, Karen’s gonna realize you’re a fuckin’ cunt, and she’s gonna stop fucking you, and she’s gonna find someone who doesn’t play with her fucking feelings, and you’re gonna be a Goddamn wreck!” She screams.
“You have no idea what you’re fucking talking about, Y/nn,” he glares at her.
“You’re gonna come to my fucking house, on the verge of tears, at 11:33 at night, and you’re going to crawl through my window, and I’m gonna put your fucking pieces back together!”
“Stop talking shit, Y/n!” He yells back at her.
“I always end up comforting you in the middle of the night! Since we were fucking seven and your piece of shit dad got sober for a week and then started drinking again!”
“Don’t fucking talk about that,” he takes a couple steps to get in her face.
“Or what, Lip? You gonna hit me? The way Frank hit your mom? The way Frank hit you?” She challenges him. “I am more than able to beat your ass. I always have. So, hit me, Lip, do it.”
He does the opposite. He kisses her. He grabs the base of her hair softly and pulls her face up to his so that their lips meet in a crash of the heavens. She reciprocates the passionate gesture, wrapping her arms around his neck as he pulls her in deeper by her waist.
He breaks the kiss. “Happy, Y/nn?”
“Confused,” she corrects him.
“I don’t want to date Karen, I want to date you, idiot.” He makes things clear.
“Don’t call me an idiot, Lip! That just makes you more of a fucking cunt!”
“You are what you eat!” He pulls her into another kiss, pinning her to his bed post. She starts to grind into him as his tongue explores her mouth, but his hand doesn’t reach past her bra before she’s pushing him away.
“You’re not fucking me until you’ve taken me out on a minimum of four dates,” she emphasizes with her fingers.
“Three,” he tries to negotiate.
“Five?” She threatens.
“Four it is!” he agrees quickly.
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Isa’s Masterlist
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fanatictypist · 8 months
hii i wanted to request a argyle x byers!reader where he’s like obsessed with her and he’s all nervous when she’s around and she’s shy but she also likes him
so will, jonathan and eleven try to get them together and its all fluff (sorry for my bad english btw)
i love your writing!!!
Thanks for the request, and patience! I was writing this as a drabble/series of drabbles but this one really got away from me. Hope you enjoy! name: bewitched pairing: Argyle x Byers!Reader word count: 2951 content/warnings: she pronouns. silliness. fluff. some egregious pov switching near the end -
“No way, man. I can’t drive her alone. She’ll cast a hex on me or something.” Argyle said, throwing both hands up defensively. Jonathan raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“A hex.” He challenged. He knew that Argyle hit the bong a bit hard sometimes, but this was by far the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard from the other boy’s mouth, especially considering he didn’t even know about El’s powers.
“Yeah, man, another one! Your sister has some witchy shit going on.” Argyle wiggled his fingers to demonstrate his meaning, waving them around for emphasis. Jonathan watched him with pursed lips, still skeptical.
“Dude. Argyle. What are you talking about? Another hex? Witchy shit? She’s my sister, and she needs a ride to work later.” Jonathan wasn’t normally the type to get pushy when asking for a favor, but his best friend was truly not making any sense this time. Sure, you sometimes wore your eyeliner a little on the thick side, but that didn’t make you witchy.
“No, man, I’m serious. Like, dead serious. She did something to me last time I drove her alone. She like… whispered something right as she was getting around the van and BOOM!” He clapped his hands together for emphasis, the sudden noise making Jonathan jump, “I can’t stop thinking about her! At first I thought it was just because the van still smelled like her perfume, but nope. Someone ordered her favorite pizza toppings and I caught myself arranging them the way she likes them before I remembered it wasn’t for her.”
When Jonathan didn’t say anything, he continued, “Then I saw her favorite flowers in this neighborhood I was delivering to, and I started slowing down to pick them! I see her everywhere dude, in everything. I’m telling you, she cursed me.”
Jonathan stared as his friend, slack-jawed as he tried to deflect his painfully obvious curse into some sort of magical phenomenon. If Argyle wasn’t staring at him so earnestly, he would have laughed. He wanted to laugh anyway, but in a disbelieving sort of way. In a, am I really going to convince you that you’re in love with my baby sister kind of way.
“I’m pretty sure that’s not a curse, Argyle.”
“Dude, are you listening? I can’t even talk around her anymore, man. I get all tongue tied, like, I just don’t know what to say. Or I know what I want to say but it never comes out right and she just gets this sweet look on her face and laughs. Doesn’t say anything, just laughs.”
Oh, he had it bad. Of course, Jonathan and the rest of the population of Lenora Hills, California already knew that Argyle had a crush on the Byers sister, but Jonathan had just laughed it off until now because it was Argyle and you were you and it was nothing serious. This was sounding serious.
“What if Jane rides with you?” Jonathan offered, glancing back at the house. He couldn’t miss his scheduled phone call with Nancy again, and his car had been giving him too many problems to reliably get you to work anyway.
Argyle hummed, considering.
“Come on, dude, please? She wouldn’t dare do anything in front of Jane, you know. She’s way too protective.” Jonathan knew he shouldn’t feed into it, but he needed this favor.
Argyle sighed but acquiesced, finally.
“Fine, but only if Jane rides with us. And no witchy shit!”
You drummed your fingers nervously on your lap as Argyle drove, something inoffensive playing quietly over the radio. He was uncharacteristically quiet, and you weren’t sure if you had done or said something to upset him. Under normal circumstances, you probably wouldn’t have asked, and with El being oddly insistent on riding with the two of you today, you certainly had nothing to say.
“Your hair looks good today; did you do something different?” El called from the back, surprisingly chipper. You turned your head to raise an eyebrow at her, but she just smiled at you, “Don’t you think it looks good, Argyle?”
You turned to look at Argyle, and caught his gaze when he glanced over at you. You offered him a confused smile, but he quickly turned his eyes back to the road.
“Uhhh, yeah, dude. It looks good. Looks great. Pretty.” He offered, his grip tightening slightly on the wheel as he rambled, “Pretty… hairy?”  You giggled; you couldn’t help it. Argyle was always so adorable when he was tripping over words. Somehow, it made whatever he settled on even sweeter. Pretty. Hairy. You shook your head fondly.
“Thanks, but it’s really nothing different. Just showered.” You shrugged, teeth immediately finding your bottom lip. Listening to Argyle was easy, but talking to him was something else entirely. He was always just so calm, so self-assured. You were so in your head about everything that you worried it would scare him away if he caught onto that.
You could feel his eyes on you, briefly, but neither of you said anything else. You thought you heard a quiet sigh from the back seat, but when you looked back, El was just staring out the window. You weren’t sure why she had wanted to come along anyway.
The drive to your job was nothing special, just flat desert for miles. Sometimes you would be daring and try to pull a rant out of Argyle, but with El as an audience, you didn’t dare. You would usually quietly remark on something innocuous and he would latch on, turning it into a full on rant or story that would leave you in stitches. Without that, this was just… awkward.
Your salvation came in the form of the small diner you had been waitressing at appearing on the horizon. The drive to work had never felt so long.
Argyle pulled into the ‘No Parking’ zone and you gathered your belongings quickly, flashing a smile as you hurried to exit the van.
“Thanks for the ride, drive safe!” You waved your goodbye and hurried inside, glad to be free of the lingering awkwardness.
You found yourself thinking of Argyle for the entire first half of your shift. The way he said pretty before amending his statement. The brief eye contact you had made, his pretty brown eyes meeting yours. The way he hummed softly along with whatever was on the radio, even when he clearly didn’t know the song. You were glad that you could at least be friends with someone like him, since you'd never been able to work up the nerve to say something that might change that into something more. 
Back at the Byers house, Will swung his legs as he sat on the edge of his bed, listening intently to El and Jonathan as they each filled him in on their side of the story. Internally, his brain was whirring. If only Dustin and Mike were here, this would be easy. They were good at meddling. Even Lucas would’ve known how to drop the right hints in the right places. Without those three, though, they would need a friend. But first, Will needed answers.
“Let me get this straight. You want to hook your best friend up with our sister?”
That was exactly what Jonathan wanted, it turns out.
You knew from the very beginning that your siblings were planning something.
Will had always been terrible at lying to you, and Jonathan always got this weird look on his face when he was planning something he didn’t want you to ask him about. Still, it was El that provided the final nail in the coffin. When she suddenly became very interested in what you were wearing to the drive-in that evening, you knew for sure.
“El, it’s just the drive-in. No one will even see me!” You protested, putting away the miniskirt your mother had bought for you during one of her rare “you’re young, go be young! Take advantage of it!” phases. You had never managed to convince yourself to wear it out of the house, not wanting the extra attention it would bring.
El snatched the skirt back from the top of the drawer and dropped it back onto your bed.
“Exactly, wear it.” She insisted stubbornly.
The two of you glared at each other over the clothes. You thought to call her out, the words ‘Friends don’t lie’ just at the tip of your tongue, but you simply huffed and gathered the clothes instead.
First Jonathan had announced a last-minute plan to take you to movie, and then Will was suddenly super excited about a movie he had never mentioned before, as if Will was even capable of being excited about something without talking your ear off about it. Now, El was being weird about your clothes, and of course your mother was all for whatever would get the lot of you out of the house, so long as Jonathan was there to keep a keen eye on everyone. If the four of them had aligned against you, you had never had a chance in the first place.
“Fine, I’ll wear the skirt, just let me get dressed.”
El flashed you a smile on her way out of your room that did nothing to make you feel reassured.
They were clearly planning something, but what? It wasn’t their style to embarrass you in public, despite the way you felt as you tugged on the miniskirt. (The top, thankfully, was full length.) There wasn’t much they could even do at a drive-in. Certainly nothing that involved you. It didn’t make any sense.
At least, it didn’t make any sense until you walked downstairs to see Argyle standing next to Jonathan at the door, talking animatedly about something that had happened on the last stop of his pizza delivery route.
“…And that was it. I told her that Surfer Boy Pizza only accepts cash payments and she slammed the door. Didn’t even come back for her pizza, so I figured we could add a fresh pie to our snacks instead of letting it go to waste. It was your sister's favorite toppings, too. ”
You couldn’t help but to smile at the sound of his voice even as you tugged at the bottom of your skirt, struggling to force it to cover any more skin.
“Oh, you’re coming, Argyle?” You asked, finally swiping your purse off a chair to hold in front of your legs.
You missed the look Argyle gave you, eyes wide, mouth half open, scanning the length of your bare legs. No one else missed it, though, and they shared a knowing look before Jonathan broke the silence.
“We figured both cars would be more comfortable. I’m taking these two, so I figured you could ride with Argyle.”
It was so heavy handed that you couldn’t even think of a legitimate reason to protest. You couldn’t say that you didn’t want to spend time alone with Argyle. Not when it wasn’t true, anyway, and certainly not when Argyle was still trying his best not to look at you all mystified.  You could already see their plan playing out before their eyes, so you just smiled and went along with it, pretending not to notice the looks they shared over your shoulder.
What you didn’t expect was for the three of them not to show up at all. The two of you had found a good spot at the drive-in and laid out all the snacks, but the movie was starting and Jonathan’s car still hadn’t pulled up. Sure, he had car troubles sometimes, but this felt too convenient. Too intentional.
Being alone with Argyle wasn’t anything new to you, but the tension tonight was. He had always been a little nervous around you. He would talk a little too fast, laugh a little too loud, stare a little too long, but this was different.
He idly spun the spark wheel on his lighter back and forth, eyes focusing somewhere in the middle distance despite the movie playing on the screen up ahead. You tried your best to focus on From Beyond instead of the boy sitting across from you, but the repetitive rrrrrrrrrt sound drew you out of the movie enough times that you gave up, your eyes falling instead to an imaginary loose thread on your skirt. Anything to stop yourself from staring.
You wondered if he knew this was a setup. And if he did know, what did he think about it? Was he embarrassed, angry, uncomfortable? You supposed it would be too much for the boy you had been crushing on to feel the same way, especially when he was your big brother’s best friend. Especially when most interactions with him involved him doing favors for said big brother. The insecurity bloomed in your chest and you grit your teeth to keep it at bay. Maybe your siblings had read the whole situation wrong, maybe you had read the situation wrong.
“I’m not sure they’re coming.” You said quietly, picking at the hem of your skirt in a way that drew Argyle’s eyes back to your legs again.
He forced his gaze away, lighting his lighter proper to watch the flame dance in his hand before extinguishing it. When he didn’t respond, you frowned.
“Argyle, are you upset with me?” You asked, instead.
That got his attention. He looked up urgently from the lighter, eyes meeting yours across the spread of snacks in the van. He had the audacity to look like he was the one hurt, eyebrows high with concern.
“What? Dude, no!”
You frowned, unconvinced. He hadn’t even bothered to light the joint tucked behind his ear, and if that didn’t mean something, nothing did. His eyes lingered on the curve of your lips and you scooted forward, pushing the pizza further into the van so that you could get closer to him. He tensed, not quite freezing, but not relaxing either. You chewed your bottom lip, unsure of how to proceed now that you were next to him. How could you confront him when he was looking at you like that?
“It just, like, worked too well. You can stop now.” Argyle said after a moment. Your gaze snapped to him, but he was looking off again, still fidgeting with his lighter.
“It worked?” You asked, voice soft, unsure. He shook his head, long hair spilling messily around his shoulders.
“Dude, the curse. The hex. You know what I mean! You can stop it now, I already liked you before. You barely say anything, but all I can think about is you. Some guy ordered your pizza toppings and I started spreading them out the way you like. I see your favorite flowers and I want to pick them. I don’t know what you did to me, but…”
He sighed, trailing off as he realized you were staring, a smile playing across your plush lips. He didn’t explain the rest, you should be aware of your own curse. Still, your face was flushed a pretty pink and he had to force himself to look away. To fight the urge to reach out and touch you – to kiss you. He had never felt this way, and certainly wouldn’t without you doing whatever it was that you had done to him, right?
For weeks, his thoughts had been nothing but you and now that you were sitting all pretty in front of him with rosy cheeks and that impossible skirt on, he was confronted with the full force of whatever it was that he was feeling, had been feeling for a while. Maybe even before the curse.
“Argyle…” When you said his name this time, it was like music, and he could feel himself sinking further under your spell. You could have asked him anything, could have asked him to do anything, and when he opened his eyes and found you beaming at him he felt something clench in his chest and knew that he was lost. Everything he had done to avoid this had failed. He was utterly and completely at your whim.
He didn’t realize that he was leaning in until you were already kissing him. It was the slightest brush of lips, but it sent electricity down his spine and Argyle knew that he could never go back. You started to pull away, an excuse already falling, stuttered, from your lips, but he pulled you back in, lips seeking yours eagerly.
His lips were chapped, and he tasted vaguely of burnt weed and pineapples, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind when your hand was bunching up the bottom of his shirt, finally getting what you had wanted but had never dared to ask for. All the car rides spent yearning, all the diary entries with his name scribbled over, all the things that you had been too shy to say out loud; crystallized right now before you in the form of the boy with his lips on yours, smiling into your kiss, holding you close even when you had to pull away for air.
"If you're under a spell, what's my excuse?" 
And then he was laughing, everything that he had been bottling up for the past few weeks bubbling out as he crushed you to his chest, words failing him as you took the chance to press kisses against his cheeks, his nose, his forehead. 
He still wasn't convinced that you hadn't done something, changed something, but he couldn't find it in himself to care when you were this close, fighting a smile as you leaned in to kiss him once again. A guy could get used to being bewitched.
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what a perv!
pairing: ronald weasley x fem!reader (usage of she/her pronouns)
request: based on a request in which ron is obsessed with fem!reader's breasts and snape notices ron's fascination, calling him out by saying, "I would greatly appreciate it if Mr. Ron would stop looking at Miss (reader)'s breasts and pay attention to my class."
warnings: embarrassment on ron's end, kinda fetishizing the female body/obsessing over woman's breasts cus it's ron and snape isn't afraid to call ron out
note: back to writing, i am! it has been a looooong time, but I'm ready to update and get on track!
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y/n's head was turned towards professor snape, hearing every word of caution and wisdom that fell from the man's mouth concerning the creation of draught of living death. her front, however, was in direct view of one ron weasley, and his eyes were not focused on his professor.
instead, they settled on a pair of breasts belonging to his lab partner, y/n l/n.
ron wasn't a pervert by any means, and that was true. he was a hormonal boy who was interested in the female body - a specific someone's body, but that is besides the point.
severus snape didn't think so, as he noticed the boy's gaze. the professor paused his lecture before taking a breath, "mr. weasley, i do think it would greatly benefit your grade if you stopped looking at ms. l/n's breasts and paid attention."
immediately, ron's face grew hot and he ducked his head, ginger hair falling over his eyes. his fingers became the most interesting thing he had seen all his life, and he didn't want to look up and notice how y/n had pulled up her blouse, making sure no cleavage was showing.
snape's face grew into a slight smirk, content in embarrassing weasley for such an act. he continued on with his lesson, making sure to go without missing a beat, and eventually let the students off on their own. he'd be coming around to check their excuse of a potion.
ron balled his hands into fists and he looked up at y/n, noticing that she'd become interested in biting her bottom lip and trying to focus on the potion. he mumbled, "i'm sorry about that, y/n, truly."
y/n glanced at ron, her cheeks feeling hot, "it's alright, ron. sorry if i distracted you."
ron's heart dropped. that's the opposite of how he wanted her to feel or even say. "no, no, sweetheart," he began, "it wasn't you. i just, i'm not a perv, promise. just get distracted sometimes."
she felt her cheeks get hotter as her eyes kept moving from her textbook and then to ron, "distracted?"
ron groaned, dreading this conversation, "well, yeah, by your breasts. the shirt does wonders, they look...great?"
he cringed as the words came out of his mouth, and y/n couldn't help but laugh. she smiled, "well, thank you, ron. glad to know that you're not a perv, but isn't that something all pervs would say?"
she laughed again at ron's face turned into one of horror, and once he realized she genuinely wasn't pissed at him, he cracked a smile. ron gave her a look, "i genuinely am sorry if i made you feel self-conscious or anything."
y/n reached across the table and laid her hand atop of his, "it's alright, ron. i was just taken aback by snape's sudden announcement. but thank you for the compliment."
ron nodded his head, "okay, glad we're good, sweetheart."
the two sat in silence, neither one wanting to move their hands until ron held onto her's a second more, "can i take you out sometime? maybe to hogsmeade?"
y/n's features fell into a smile and she crossed her legs under the desk, feet kicking lightly in excitement. she nodded, "i'd love that, ron."
harry and hermione couldn't believe their ears and turned towards one another, eyebrows raised, "what?"
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art-in-distress · 2 months
141 is Mine Now
Taking Care
Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader
More of you, the reader, hanging out with the boys™ with some shenanigans
Also, your first date with Ghost~
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anauthore · 10 months
Escape From Halloweentown {Jack Skellington x Reader} CHAPTER 5 - Good Morning
Summary: When a game of hide-and-seek goes wrong, you find yourself lost in the woods without a way home. Whether it be fate, or just dumb luck, you suddenly find yourself in a far bigger predicament than you ever thought you would be- and it’s not just because you can’t seem to find your little brother.
Pairing: Reader / Jack Skellington. A very slow burn fic.
NOTE: This is a full-length fanfic! If you don’t want to read chapter by chapter on tumblr, please use the following links to read in a different format / on a different website!
CW: Slight NSFW themes
Hey all! I'm back with this chapter and it has some... surprises. I know I specified that this is a slow burn fic, and it IS, but some spice doesn't hurt here. Also, I wanted to put a content warning in case someone didn't want to read because of their closeness- I'll spoil what happens below for those who are on the edge about it.
As always, thanks for choosing my fic! I really appreciate it x
SPOILER: You and Jack sleep together, and in the morning he accidentally stimulates you with the bones of his leg. It doesn't progress pass 'accidental' and you quickly go to the bathroom.
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Fic Below the Cut | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
The fire crackled, a few select sparks flying out and disappearing as quick as they did so. Jack stood watching you, your breaths making your back rise and fall rhythmically, as you slept draped across the windowsill. That can’t be comfortable… Jack thought, his first instinct wanting to bring you to bed and cover you in his blanket. I can’t, he scolded himself. He wouldn’t forgive himself if he lost you. He enjoyed your company, but you’ve become restless, and he can tell that you would take a chance to escape the moment it was presented to you.
Still, something about the way you sat made him frown. He didn’t like that you were sleeping like that, hunched over on your knees, drooling on a platform of wood. Fighting his initial rejection, he tiptoed your direction, careful not to make any noise. Despite this, you stirred, and your eyes popped open.
You wiped your face, turning around so fast that your muscles ached from the stiffness they’d developed prior. There, right behind you, was Jack, looking down at your half-awake form. He’d stopped in his tracks, his eyebrows raised in surprise. Was he praying that you were asleep? What even was his plan? 
You raised your arms up by gut reaction, covering your face and ducking. Jack’s brow raised further, puzzled by your need to protect yourself. Was he really that scary to you? Did you… dislike him that much? The sadness swept through him, lodged deep in his bones. He took a step back, keeping his mouth shut. You stilled your shaking, and peeked through your arm barrier. Jack had moved back a few feet, yet he hadn’t said a word. You lowered your arms slowly, trusting that he wouldn’t charge or do something worse.
Jack waited patiently for you to say something, but you didn’t know what to say. You felt all the thoughts on the situation bounce around your head, and so you just caught one at random, voicing it.
“Were you watching me sleep?”
Jack hesitated, caught off-guard. He’d been watching you for a little bit, yes, but he meant no harm. He couldn’t form all of those words, so he just nodded. “Yes.”
You had no idea how to take that. Your pulse, already pounding at having been woken up, quickened more. “Why?” You sounded more and more desperate, your body short of breath.
Jack really couldn’t answer this one. He didn’t know how you would react, so he just spoke from the heart.
“I was thinking that you couldn’t be comfortable sleeping like that.”
You paused, reflecting on his reply. You didn’t know what to say after that. Was he being creepy, or was he being kind? You continued the conversation for lack of another option.
"It isn't. It hurts my back. And my neck."
Jack took in this information quietly. "Then why did you sleep there?" 
"I don't have very many choices. The bed is too small."
Jack thought about this. You were right; the bed was for his small ghost dog, who didn't need sleep anyway. It served more as a pillow than a mattress. He swallowed, wanting desperately to help you out. Without letting it pass through his mental filter, he spoke. He brought up a solution that had been off limits.
"You can sleep in my bed."
Your heart skipped a beat. You forgot to breath. His bed? 
You worked up the courage to ask. You had to know how he thought this would go if you agreed. "With you?"
Jack was caught off guard once more, but this time his face was stone. He wanted to give you a choice.
"If that's what you want."
. . .
It was awkward enough when the much taller skeleton had touched you gently during your check-up with Dr. Finklestein, but the feeling that burned through you now was definitely worse. You wanted to sleep in a bed- a real bed- and let your body actually rest. And, even though you denied it, you wanted the protection of Jack. You bit your lip, fighting with your inner emotions. You want to, you more than want to, but the logical part of your brain told you that it was dangerous. What if he hurt you? What if he wanted to force himself on you? What if… what if you wanted him? 
Your eyes darted around the room, looking for something- anything- to use to distract yourself. Before you could, Jack spoke once more. His tone seemed…. disappointed. 
"You don't have to, of course. It's an option, not a necessity."
You instantly interjected. "No! That's not- that's- I didn't mean that. I just don't-" You cut yourself off, trying to organzie your thoughts. You started to panic. You closed your eyes tightly, your breaths getting faster, more strained, more panicked, more-
Jack's hand made contact with your shoulder, and he squeezed to take your attention from your racing mind. You reached up and put your own hand atop his, and you grabbed it. He retreated, but before he could you interlocked your fingers in his. You needed someone. For some reason, you needed him.
He didn't quite understand your emotions right now, but he could sense distress. He knelt down, much more around the same height as you. He took his free hand and started rubbing your back in large circles, trying to stimulate slow, deep breaths. Your pulse calmed ever so slightly, and Jack felt a surge of dopamine. It was working. He was helping you.
Once you gained control over your body once more, you realized how close you both were. He sat next to you, your hand in his and his palm rubbing your back. He wasn't doing any harm. He was only trying to make you feel better.
"Would you like to come to bed? With… me?" Jack asked the same question in a different way, trying to make it more 'yes or no' rather than having you explain. That served no purpose for you, and it was easier, anyway.
To Jack's surprise, you nodded, sniffing back snot and tears that were trying to exit your system. You were kind of surprised at yourself, but you couldn't be alone for yet another night. You needed someone.
Jack slipped his hand away from where it was placed in yours, and rose, lifting his palm from your back. He reached out his hand and helped you up, standing still afterward. He took a tender step forward, eyeing you, but you looked calm. He reached his hands up and gently touched your collar, the chain rattling slightly from the shift in weight.
Slowly, he thumbed the studs, twisting it so that he could unlock it with the key he’d kept hidden somewhere on his person. The metal clinked, and popped open within seconds. He removed it from around your neck, tossing it to the side. Your skin was very red, and it looked almost irritated. It felt irritated, but you dared not to fidget or scratch. You knew it would only make matters worse. 
Jack's palm hovered over the affected area, an odd look crossing him. You looked at him just as you had when he was last this close. You tilted your head to the side to give him easier access, and he ran the end of a single digit across the raised irritation bumps. He was so gentle, and his phalanges were cold, but it soothed you more than you'd expected. You leaned into his touch, slightly embarrassed. He stopped for a moment, and you turned back to look at him.
"I'm sorry." 
Jack sounded sincere. He sounded hurt. It seemed like he didn't realize how inhumane he was treating you. You said nothing. 
He sighed to himself and gently pulled you along with him as he went down the spiral staircase you'd been previously kept away from. You remembered that this floor was the one with the tub. You remembered the time you'd bathed, and how gentle Jack was with you then, at your most vulnerable. You trusted him then and it had been okay- trusting him now wasn’t any different.
On the other side of the room was a mattress that had been laid out crookedly. The blankets were tossed to the side, and a single pillow was pushed up against the wall. It looked like Jack hadn't slept at all yet tonight.
He guided you toward his bed, and you realized that it was slightly smaller than a Queen-sized. If you shared, you'd surely be touching him. But you'd also be sleeping on a bed, and as your mind clouded more and more with sleep, you wanted its comfort more and more.
You looked to him for permission, and he nodded, pulling up the blanket to cover you. You laid down, and the moment the blanket hit you, you felt instantly exhausted. You'd cried so much this past week that you weren't sure if you could again. Your brain felt empty, your body fuzzy. Despite this, you scooted over and made room for Jack, who climbed under with you. 
His striped pajama clothes suited him well, and looked more comfortable than the sweats you were given. You didn't want to be rude, but you'd wished you'd had your pajamas. They kept the chill from penetrating into your skin easily.
You shivered. You were cold, especially now that there was no fireplace on this floor. Jack must've noticed, because he nudged himself toward you, just so it was barely noticeable. You breathed in, weighing your options. You were already kept here against your will, you might as well be comfortable.
"You can come closer. You can… hold me. If you want."
Your request came out more like a suggestion. You inwardly cursed yourself for acting so submissive. Still, Jack did as you mentioned and snuck his arm over you, turning on his side. He rested it on the curve of your hip, making sure his only point of contact was his elbow atop the flesh there. For some reason, you thought his hesitance was cute. You lingered on the thought before letting it stay, choosing not to push it down.
You wiggled closer to him, wanting his body to heat yours despite his being a literal skeleton, but he kept moving away. Not caring if he didn't want to hold you at this point, you growled in frustration. 
"I want you to be next to me. I want your body to touch mine." You felt like you were demanding, and quickly followed up with, "If you want that too, I mean."
He didn't respond. For a brief while, he didn't even move. You thought you'd been too mean to him, that your tone had been too much, but he suddenly closed the gap between your bodies and tucked his hand under your ribs, his arm around you snugly. He rested his chin atop your head, his form too tall to go any lower. You felt your nerves ignite, and even worse, the feeling deep in your belly spread farther than it should have.
Still, you felt calm and cozy with Jack snuggled up behind you. Your bodies being pressed together soothed you, and you felt okay. It was almost like you weren't missing. It was almost like you could forget you were very far from home. If you closed your eyes and pretended really hard, it was almost like you were happy.
. . .
You woke up to a bright light passing just over your head, shadowed by the obstacle that is Jack's skull. You forgot that you'd fallen asleep next to him, but it had been worth it; there were no knots in your back or cricks in your neck. You felt well-rested for once.
You were also extremely comfortable. Your limbs were entangled in his, your bodies facing each other while his right palm was pressed firmly against your back. You weren't afraid. If anything, you welcomed his touch. You almost yearned for it. You almost…
Jack stirred and you tried to detangle your bodies, but he pulled you closer. You ceased your actions, looking up at his face. His lids, uncharacteristic of a skeleton, were closed and he looked peaceful. You stared at him for a while longer, taking into account how not monstrous he seemed.
Suddenly, you were staring into two black pits; he'd woken, and found him staring at him. You looked away, your face becoming hot. Quickly, you became aware of exactly what parts of you he was touching: his hand was firmly pressed to your lower back, his thumb grazing the dip in your waist; His pelvic bones were pressing against yours, flesh cushioning them; your chest was pressed to his ribcage; your legs were wrapped around his, his knee resting at the juncture between them. Your body began to burn in embarrassment, but you didn't want to move.
He blinked, and then a smile spread across his face. You felt his bones shake in a soft chuckle, and you were getting more and more self-conscious. You felt the need to apologize, but before the words could even form on your tongue, Jack interrupted you.
"Good morning. Did you sleep well?"
His voice was deeper than usual, thick from lack of use and sleep. His heart rate was steady, despite the position you both were in. There was no doubt that he could feel your thumping pulse from your closeness, but you tried to ignore it. You mumbled out a reply, and he hummed in response. Was he still tired? Did he want to sleep in?
He took a large breath and moved back a smidge, giving you more room to breath. You were grateful, but somewhere inside you, you still wanted him close. You moved forward half the distance, taking a chance. 
He adjusted himself so that your faces were at the same height- it was easier to talk to you this way. He stared at you for another long moment, and this time, you were the one that spoke up.
"Why did you hold me like that? When the Doctor came, I mean."
Your pulse quickened once more, nervousness setting in. Your anxiety always got the best of you in situations like these, but you wanted answers. You needed to know. The question had been burning at you for a while.
"I don't know." 
You hadn't expected that. You'd expected him to make an excuse about his infatuation with humans, or maybe for him to admit some sort of feelings between the two of you. He never elaborated. Just- he doesn’t know why. You had to accept that answer.
"Why did you let me?"
His question caught you off guard. Why had you let him touch you so gently? Why did you let him get close to you now? Why did you yearn for his touch? Why were you even answering questions like these?
"I… liked it. I like when you touch me. I miss being touched."
You swallowed, biting your lip. You repressed a chill as Jack's hand, previously pressed against your back, caressed it's way around to your side, a small squeeze at the curve of your hip letting you know his intent was not malicious. Your back instinctively arched, your body moving forward into the sharp curve of his pelvic bone. You muffled a noise that threatened to come from you, and Jack’s body stiffened. There was no use in hiding the thing that was going on between your two bodies. 
But you could try to ignore it.
Still, you couldn't bring yourself to do so- you wanted to lean in to the feeling, to let it build, and then to satiate it. You wanted it, even though it was extremely selfish. You wanted to be able to trust him at your most vulnerable state. You wanted him to protect you from the other monsters that he governed. You wanted to be safe and loved. You wanted a family. You wanted… home.
You'd hesitated long enough that Jack moved again, his other hand finding it's way to your hair, running his bony fingers through the strands. It felt nice, and you leaned your head into the touch. He took the hand on your hip and inched it upward, caressing the sensitive dip that is your waist, and moving up even more to feel your ribs. The bones protruded slightly, hard and strong under your skin, and Jack's fingers tickled against them.
You let your body turn into putty in his touch, slowly losing control of your higher thought. You reached your hand up to rest against the side of his skull, and he exhaled in a single burst of hot air. The noise and feel of his breath made you shudder, and his knee came up in between your legs, just to pull you closer; his kneecap pressed a pointed pressure at the place where your legs met, and a jolt ran up through the entirety of your body. He didn't know what he did, but you were slowly coming apart, and something about the way you looked fighting for bodily calm sparked a distant instinct inside him. He thought he may have hurt you, but somewhere a thought in his mind pushed him to curl into you, pulling you close and pushing his body into yours.
This time his femur brushed against your overly-sensitive juncture, the spark within your belly growing. Your body was heating up, your own willpower not enough to allow you to hold back. The running of his fingers through your hair, the sweet touch against your ribs, the friction between your legs- you involuntarily moved to make more friction, your hands now holding his shoulders and squeezing hard to keep yourself from making any unnecessary noises. You opened your mouth, exhaling a heated breath, and Jack mirrored you, releasing his pent up emotion. He didn't quite understand what was making you feel so good, but he knew that it was something he was doing, so he didn't want to stop. He wanted to redeem himself, he wanted to take away all the fear, all the uncertainty, all the negative emotions he'd made you feel by bringing you here.
So he kept going.
You pulled yourself close enough to him now that there were no gaps between your bodies. He leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours, your mouths inches from one another. The stimulation made your lips quiver, and you were holding everything back by what felt like a broken piece of string- more friction, more closeness, more of whatever it was that was happening, and you were over.
You almost yelped out, almost, but suddenly your mouth was pressed against Jack's, keeping you from exhaling any further. Suddenly your nerves were set on fire, but you were sedated by the feeling you were getting from your mind. He pressed his body into yours, and you were overwhelmingly warm. You moved your lips and he moved his, and soon your hand was behind his head, guiding it into a tilt. Your mouths interlocked, your lips pressed against his until a tongue swiped over them. You barely parted your lips, catching a breath, and again Jack’s mouth found yours. He held you close, pulling his legs from where they rested with yours. He untangled himself from you as you kissed, his arms still keeping you close to him. Your hands made their way to his chest, the bones and his sternum pressing through the pajama fabric. 
One last kiss, and you pushed him away gently. He obeyed, opening his eyes to stare at you. He’d just kissed you. Hell, you two might as well have been making out.
He stilled. Stiff, his brain started to think so many different things. He’d never kissed someone like that- had she come onto me?, he asked himself, unsure at what started which thing. Quickly, that burning sensation within his own core shrunk, until it was barely even noticeable. 
You balled your open palm into a fist, resting your hand like that on Jack. You shimmied away slightly, putting some space in between your faces.
“I have to use the bathroom.”
Right, he thought, humans need to get rid of waste. 
As fast as you had gotten yourself into that situation did you get yourself out of it. Jack fought his way to stand against the sleep that plagued his limbs, and after him you did the same. You relieved yourself in a makeshift toilet that Jack had gotten put together for you, sitting appropriately near the tub. He left you alone on the floor while you did so, having gone downstairs to make breakfast for the two of you. 
Alone, you felt ashamed. You’d just kissed a skeleton. A monster. The same exact one that had kidnapped you and chained you up. You frowned, wiping your lips hard with your arm.
Your first fucking kiss was a monster.
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danceshirayuki · 7 months
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remind me — s. kyoraku x fem!reader amnesia au , post war au
prologue wc : 512
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“Captain Kurotsuchi, here’s the report on the strange reiatsu that appeared within the ​​Precipice World.” Akon said as he held the tablet up to the scientist. Mayuri took it and read through it, “It’s about equivalent to a lutientents, but it isn’t from any of the squad’s lutientents.”.
“Do you have any idea where the person is now?” Mayuri asked, “Not yet sir, I’ve sent some people out to find the person." Akon responded. Mayuri only nodded before leaving his lab.
"Strange Reiatsu?" Kyoraku asked, looking over at Nanao. "Like Yhwach strange or just normal strange?" He asked. "We're not sure, Captain Kurotsuchi just reported it." Nanao answered. "Well, guess I should go check it out." He said, pushing himself up from the ground.
Kyoraku grabbed his pink kimono and put it over his shoulders as he went to leave, "I'll join you." Nanao said as she came to follow. "You don't have too-" "You'll get distracted if I don't." She said. Kyoraku only gave a small huff, but didn't protest further.
"This is where it was strongest, correct?" Kyoraku asked as they arrived in the area. "Yes sir." Nanao said, looking over the report one more time. Kyoraku looked around, his gray eyes glanced around the area until he felt the reiatsu. He followed it into an abandoned area of the district.
That's where he found a person in human clothing unconscious on the ground, her hand seemed to be clenched around something tightly. He knelt down, only to feel that she was the one causing the strange reiatsu.
“Head Captain, did you find something?” Nanao asked as she quickly rounded the corner. She looked at the human on the ground. “A human?” She asked, looking a bit confused. “I guess so, she seems to be holding something.” He said, reaching down to touch her hand.
The moment his fingers grazed it, she shifted and her hand clenched the item tighter. From what he could tell, it wasn’t a Quincy cross. Kyoraku only hummed as he picked the woman up. “Ah, Captain-!” “I’ll take her to Squad 4, let Isane look over her.” Kyoraku said.
Nanao only sighed, “You’re too soft on woman Captain, you don’t even know who she is or if she’s dangerous.”. “Then I’ll just hope she isn’t dangerous.” Kyoraku said. “I’ll inform Squad 12 about this then.” Nanao said, and quickly used shunpo to disappear. Kyoraku only nodded and did the same to head towards Squad 4.
It wasn't long before the female was taken to be treated, which she appeared to have no outward injuries. “She isn’t conscious, but for some reason her body is reacting to the object in her hand defensively.” Isane said.
Kyoraku nodded, “Is she human? A Quincy?” he asked. “She’s just human, maybe she’s similar to Orihime and Sado?” Isane answered. Kyoraku nodded, “I’ll see if I can get ahold of the Kurosaki group and see if they know her.” he waved as he went to leave. “Let me know when she wakes up.” he said as Isane nodded.
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lgbt-tiktoks · 8 months
Caption: [Audio from "Supermodel (You Better Work)" by RuPaul plays. It starts with the spoken words "I have one thing to say. You better work, bitch".]
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albedoswifehusband · 1 year
hi i hope this is okay but what about xiao/albedo (your choice really heh-) fingering f!reader in front of a mirror since she was feeling down and insecure that day so he decides to show his love for her<3
Oh I think this is sweet. Back at it again with the late night posting. Under a cut!
The man beside Y/N can't stand when she feels down about herself. Pulling her gently to the mirror from where she lays naked on the bed he sits her down and looks her dead in the eyes from beside her,
"Listen. I know I'm not the best at this… but you mean everything to me. Please look at yourself in the mirror during this tonight."
He leans his head against her shoulder to avoid meeting his own gaze in the mirror, he wants to not look as desperate as he feels as his fingers creep downwards to her pussy. Xiao whispers sweetly,
"I want you to see yourself how I do. You're so beautiful to me when you're feeling good…"
He's confused by how Y/N can feel so badly about herself, one of his hands trailing down her stomach until he can squeeze her thigh and the other coming to rest on the small of her back. It's not long before he's pulling her to her feet and bringing her over to the full length mirror. Before long he's knuckle deep inside her, taking his sweet time scissoring his fingers and circling her clit with his thumb.
He's relishing in how her cunt twitches around his digits whenever his fingertips rub against her g spot when he curls his fingers inside. It's like a reward when he finds himself dwelling on it so often.
"Keep looking at us. I can't get over how much you look like art on display like this."
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burnieblanders · 8 months
The boys react to Mc turning into a cowgirl: fat, huge boobs that leak milk, lil horns, cow ears and tail, can only speak in moos, inspired by milqilin* on ao3 (idk if they have a tumblr...)
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(This is my mc♡♡ i love her)
Basically they all love it tho♡ lmao
Lucy: tries to keep his composure but secretly loves it, as soon as he gets mc to himself (he invites her to his room of course) he drinks her sweet milk gently. He ties her up, wrists and ankles bound to the bedframe and fucks her slow...loves the jiggle of her curves. (To me he seems like the type whod fuck all night, switching between brutal merciless overstimulation to tender and sweet aftercare.)
Mammon: cant contain how much he loves it, cant stop touching and hugging mc, plows her as soon as theyre alone together. He tastes her milk but find he doesnt love it as much as he loves to just squeeze her nipples and hear her whine.  (To me he seems like the type to go like 4 rounds back to back, defs a cuddler after sex)
Levi: omg its just like a hentai...so he goes hentai mode and ambushes her while theyre hanging out, (doin that classic trap ur love interest against the wall) tho hes visibly flustered and stumbles a bit so mc throws him a bone and acts submissive for him, hes still not the best at being domineering though, hes too self depreciating, so mc just pins him down and rides him
Satan: like lucy he tries to keep his composure but loses it a lot faster, he invites mc to his room, saying they could look through a book on pregnancy and breast milk together. As theyre sitting next to eachother and looking through the book he starts to get distracted, theyre reading about breast feeding and he tells her he wants to try it...so naturally things escalate from there...it starts with him simply suckling her breast milk and ends with him pounding her into oblivion, smacking her ass, pulling her tail, pinching and pulling her nipples, calling her a slutty cow and just generally bullying her♡.♡
Asmo: he lures her in with promises of a massage and a bath with rose petals and scented oils along with candles and incense to set a romantic mood. He rubs down her whole body and relishes in her softness....They do it in the bathtub and splash water all over the floor lol. After they get out of the tub they do it again in bed, then standing up, then back on the bed 2 more times. He constantly compliments her beautiful body as he gives it to her slow, gives her tons of kisses and hickies. (What kind of avatar of lust would he be if he couldnt go multiple rounds?? Lol)
Beel: ambushes mc in her room, acting like a spoiled brat and demanding a taste, he gets on top, drinks her milk and relishes in it, sucking too hard and making her struggle against him sometimes, he takes the hint and tries to hold back so he wont hurt her. He continues to  suck and play with her tits as he fucks her (to me he seems like the type whod go hard for a long time, leaving her completely exhausted from multiple overstimulated orgasms, i think he could do1 or 2 very long rounds before he needs a snack break)
Belphie: loves to hold her, lean on her, and cuddle with her when they nap together. Some nights as theyre cuddling he wakes up and while shes asleep he puts his dick between her thighs and ruts against her slow. She'll wake up wanting more so he gives it to her from behind while pulling her tail. Hes the type whod fall asleep inside her of course...
Dia: loves it unashamedly, invites mc to his room for tea and a chat. When theyre together hes straightforward in asking to taste her milk, as he does he gets excited and touches her. He asks if shes ok before he continues. They get naked, he eats her out and fingers her until she cums twice making sure shes proper wet and receptive. He then picks her up effortlessly and bounces her on his massive dick like a doll. (Another one that would fuck all night tbh, hed leave mc absolutely drained)
Barb: very intrigued by it, requests to try some of her milk in his tea, having heard breast milk is creamy and tasty. After trying it in tea he tries it plain, then he requests to try it from the source. Hes mesmerized by the warmth in his gut that he gets as he listens to her embarrassed moos, hes more proper than to just whip out his dick in front of the young miss, so he excuses himself and jacks off desperately thinking about how hed love to get a tit job from her before hed put it in her slick. How indecent!!
Simeon: admires her from a distance ;_;
Solomon: he wants to help in some way...so he gives her one of those lil milking machines so she can get rid of some of the excess, she gives the extras to him so he can drink it or cook with it >_>.....he makes her a potion that should help reduce milk production at least a little bit and indeed she stops leaking so much that all her shirts get soaked, shes very grateful to him for that. So how can she thank him? With some good old fashioned sloppy toppy of course....jeez i couldnt think of anything good for my fave character!! 😩
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cowboyjigen · 3 months
when the wind blows aka roger comforting his daughter when she needs him
warnings: fem reader obvs by the title lol, this is really just a self indulgent fix cause i’ve been feeling bad recently and watching the roger flashbacks
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the sea was quiet: a rare sight especially on the grand line. but still there was a certain silence filling the oro jackson. it was painful almost. the normally jolly crew had been shushed as soon as the smile on their captains face dropped, also a rare sight.
“something’s wrong.” roger finally spoke up.
“what’s could possibly be wrong, roger?” rayleigh quipped a small laugh leaving his mouth. roger was not amused by his best friends joke. “roger, everything is fine. it’s just a quiet night is all.”
roger huffed, “maybe i’m just tired.” as if they knew something everyone else didn’t, shanks and buggy shared a look before silently skittering away. taking another sip of his drink, roger glanced around at his crew.
“they head in for the night, not like anything is jumping for your attention right now, captain.” roger nodded in agreement to what gaban had said, setting his mug down and pushing himself up.
“right, i’ll head in then.” with a final nod, he moved towards his cabin.
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when he finally approached the door to his quarters, there stood shanks and buggy firmly blocking the door. “can i help you two?”
“sorry captain we can’t let you in here.” shanks was the one who spoke up, not to much surprise on rogers behalf.
“and why is that?”
“strict orders captain.” buggy nodded while speaking
“stricter than those of your captain?”
the blue haired boy paled a bit but shanks stood his ground, “yes sir, she said she’d kick our asses if we let anyone in until she said we could.”
oh. oh.
it made sense to roger now. not just the boys standing unwavering in front of his door but also why it felt so quiet. “i’m afraid you’re just gonna have to have your asses kicked boys.” they shared a look, “or if you let me in now, i’ll put in a good word for you.”
the two nodded at eachother before splitting ticket roger through. “but if she asks, you fought us to get it! we didn’t give up easily!”
roger laughed slightly and nodded, pushing the door open. “sweetie?” stifled sobs rang out from the corner of the room.
they belonged to a lump in the sheets that quivered every few seconds when a particular loud cry would sound. “no one’s here, go away.”
humoring her, roger sat himself on the floor next to his own bed. “hmm we’ll if no one is here then i guess i can crawl in my bed and sleep then.” he emphasized his words by pressing down onto the wood boards below which let out a strong creaking noise.
“go away, dad.”
“oh so there is someone in here! i got worried there was a ghost for a second!” turning around on the floor, roger lifted the blankets covering his daughter. “what’s got you like this, kid?”
he crawled in next to her, holding her close. she shook her head into his chest. “no. it’s embarrassing.”
“cant be too embarrassing right? would it make you feel better if i told you something embarrassing first to make it feel better?”
“maybe, it depends.”
roger smiled before pretending to think hard about what he was going to share. “let’s see, back when it was just me and uncle rayleigh i spent a dumb amount of time trying to figure out what outfit would be the best to wear incase the marines took my mug. well one day i was take a bit longer than normal and uncle rayleigh walked in on me half naked in this ugly frilly shirt.” Y/N sat there giggling in his arms, “see? makes you feel a bit better about you right?”
she nodded slightly before frowning again, “i miss mom.” roger stiffened. he too missed rouge, it had been a few weeks since they had last seen each other. “see it’s embarrassing!” tears once again threatened her eyes but roger just held her tighter.
“it’s not embarrassing sweetie, i miss her too.” he combed his fingers through her hair, “but we’ll see her soon. we’re on our way back right now remember? and then she’ll be on the ship with us for a while.”
“i know, it’s just. sometimes i just feel like i need someone to talk to and she’s not here and,” she continued to ramble on before roger interrupted her.
“you know you can always talk to me right?”
“well yeah but you’re busy, i don’t want to distract you because of my dumb troubles.”
“nothing you say could be dumb to me sweetie. you’re still my daughter.”
she nodded, “thank you dad.”
“of course.” the pair sat there in each others arms for a few minutes before a knock came from the door. it opened to reveal shanks, buggy, and rayleigh. “how much of that did you guys hear?”
“say Y/N, do you want to see the picture of your dad in that shirt?”
“don’t you dare rayleigh.”
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cambria-writes · 5 months
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happy all hallow's eve! i hope everyone's had a good weekend! i'm excited for tomorrow; since pretty much everyone but the four people (myself included) in our office are out for a few days my coworkers and i are gonna dress up. cross your fingers that my costume still fits because i'm having my dad bring it with him (we work together) when he picks me up in the morning.
i have proofread this a massive two (2) times so if i've missed anything please lmk!
rating: M, each chapter rated individually warnings: mention of guns, minor injuries, nancy gets Free Trauma, she/her reader without physical description, reader might be turning into a mary-sue but who cares? not me!, eddie growls in this one word count: 4,503 Previous Next Masterlist
𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕰𝖑𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓: 𝔇𝔦𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫
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Running through the woods had been bad enough and left you with burning lungs. You did not expect having to steal a bike from Nancy Wheeler’s neighbour and booking it back to Forest Hills. (Though you’re pretty sure it’s not really stealing, considering there isn’t really anyone around to own it in the first place. Not here.)
Though you nearly crash your purloined bike a few times on the way, the lot of you manage to make it back to the Munson trailer… relatively intact. Robin leans against you at the bottom of the trailer’s steps, heaving just about as much as you. 
“This wasn’t supposed to be,” Robin starts, one arm on your shoulder and one on her knee as she doubles over to catch her breath. “This isn’t supposed to be gym class.” 
“Fuck, tell me about it,” you whine, opting to lean your head back and clasping your hands behind your neck. “This is torture, I hate this.” 
“Cheer up,” Steve says, a little too jovially for someone red in the face from exertion. “We’re almost out of here. C’mon.” He claps Robin on the back in passing and nearly knocks her off her feet. 
“Hey, you gonna be alright?” Eddie asks, coming up behind you to rest a hand on your other shoulder. Robin clears her throat loudly and skitters after Steve. You frown at her, but turn to Eddie to shake your head. 
“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” you huff, swallowing loudly and trying to measure your breathing. “Being a librarian isn’t like, a super active job. Not used to this anymore.”
Eddie snorts and squeezes your shoulder for a second before letting go. 
“Just. Lemme know if you need anything?” It’s your turn to snort when you walk past him up the steps, heeding an impatient Steve gesturing at you both to hurry up. 
“I know this song and dance already, big guy,” you say over your shoulder. 
Inside, flashlights pointed up at the ceiling, Steve is the first to speak up. 
“God damn.” 
“That’s,” Eddie starts, and you don’t have to look back at him to know you don’t like the expression on his face. “That’s where Chrissy died. Like, right where she died.”
“I don’t see why you’re surprised,” you frown, leaning forward to look at Steve. “Didn’t you guys like, come through one of these? Where Patrick died?” 
“Yeah, but it’s like, it’s actually here, y’know?” Robin whispers, taking a cautious step forward before roughly being pulled back by Steve. 
“Woah, wait a sec,” he says, taking a step forward instead and squinting at the gate. Behind you, Eddie grabs both your arms like he’s worried you’re about to topple over. “What’s—”
Something punches through the gate with a disgusting, slimy-cunchy sound, and in fact if it hadn’t been for Eddie holding you still behind you, your jolt might’ve actually knocked you on your ass. You instinctively grab for the gun tucked into your waistband. Whatever it is wiggles around and… seems to clear the way? 
Though Steve is the first one to try and approach the gate, you grab him by the wrist and place the Beretta in his hand. He nods quickly before making his way closer, keeping the gun aimed up at the ceiling as he does. His arm quickly goes down though, and when you hear him utter ‘no way’, you quickly make your way to him and look up.
And there are the kids, all safe and accounted for. Dustin’s nearly cackling as he waves up—down?—at you from the trailer’s living room. 
“Well holy shit,” you whisper, feeling your face split into a grin. 
“Hi there!” Dustin greets, and you can’t help but slap Eddie excitedly in the arm. 
He’s met with a chorus of tired but enthused greetings
“Bada bada boom!”
“Please tell me he didn’t get that from you,” you whisper to Eddie, turning to look up at him. 
“Absolutely the hell not.” You huff out a short laugh before Steve and Nancy start directing the kids through the gate. 
Quickly enough, there’s a rope made out of the blankets Dustin and Erica can find throughout the trailer, and Lucas and Max unceremoniously throw a mattress down on the floor beneath the portal. With several quirked eyebrows directed at him, Eddie shrugs his shoulders and clears his throat. 
“Those stains are, uh,” he starts, frowning before shrugging again. “I dunno what those stains are.” 
“I’m showering after this,” Robin says quietly, and you can’t help but hum in agreement despite the elbow in the ribs you get in retaliation. 
When the makeshift rope falls through the ceiling, you can’t help but move to grab it. Dustin urges you to give it a good tug. When it stays put, you swallow what was sure to be a cackle and, once you’ve got a good grip, let yourself swing.
You don’t even try to stop the laughter that bubbles up your throat when you feel Eddie pull you down and away, arms tight around your stomach. He swivels around to drop you back on the ground. 
“Yeah no we’re trying to be serious here,” Eddie says, and though he’s probably trying to reprimand you for being a little too carefree, you can still hear the smile in his voice. 
“I’m absolutely being serious! I was testing to see if it would hold my weight!” 
“Sure dude,” he scoffs. Eventually, when Dustin voices his impatience, Eddie squares his shoulders and gives the rope a solid tug. “No objections to my going first?” 
“None here, have at it,” Steve answers, crossing his arms and taking a step back. 
“Just warn us if you start feeling woozy or like you’re being pulled apart by magic invisible hands,” Robin throws in, and you can’t help but worry at the skin of your lips. 
There’s… no chance you’ll get dismembered going through, right? The blanket’s perfectly fine, you reason with yourself, watching as Eddie pulls himself closer to the ceiling. You hold your breath until he lands with a thump on the mattress on the other side. 
��Thank fuck,” you sigh, taking a step back and motioning for Robin to go ahead when she puts her hand on the rope. When she makes it through equally unscathed and thrilled, you turn to look at Nancy and Steve in turn. 
“I’ll go last,” Steve says, a gentle hand on her shoulder pushing Nancy towards the rope. 
“Not really gonna object to that,” you say in turn, pulling the gun from your waistband. After flipping  the safety off and making sure it’s cocked, you pass it over to Steve, holding the barrel down. You open your mouth to say something when it feels like something, all at once, is trying to force your brian out of your eyes. 
The sound around you feels like it’s being filtered through cotton, and though you can make out Eddie and the kids shouting from the other sides, you can more clearly make out the fact that Steve is calling Nancy’s name. 
From where you’re crouched, nearly doubled over, on the ground, you crack open a sore eyelid to see Nancy stood stock still, eyes rolled back. You’re sure you make some kind of frustrated sound while you clench your jaw and force yourself to stand. You stumble forward to brace yourself against Steve’s shoulder, blindly reaching out for Nancy. Steve doesn’t say anything when he grabs your hand and puts it against her shoulder. 
And while the relief is immediate and you no longer feel like someone is trying to use your skull as a tube of toothpaste, you also lose all bearing and sense of space. One second you see a house with a beautiful stained glass window, the next it’s spiders, and then it’s the intensely loud, overwhelming buzzing of what you know is a tattoo gun. There’s nothing for you to do, like this; you barely feel your body at all. 
You can’t move. Much less speak. 
You can’t speak, but you can think, at least. And you’re pretty sure that you’ve still got your hand on Nancy’s shoulders. So, with what little focus and energy you have left, praying that no one’s decided to step on the mattress, you try to ignore the sights and sounds around you and focus on Eddie’s trailer.
You’re almost relieved when you feel your stomach drop, and when you start to feel Nancy’s knit sweater under your fingers, you think you grip it so tightly it might rip. 
You’re knocked out before you even hit the ground.
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You’re dreaming.
That’s the first thought that runs through your head.
Everything is black around you, as far as you can see. There’s water lapping at your feet, barely an inch deep. You kick your right foot up, then your left. You put your hands up in front of you and look at them. Flex your fingers slowly, one by one, before turning your hands over to look at your palms. You make fists as tightly as you can before releasing the tension and letting your hands fall back down to your sides.
It’s quiet here. Nice. Calm. You could stay here a while, you think.
So you sit down on the water-covered ground and pull your knees up to your chest. You tap your toes in the water. It’s not cold, you don’t think. If anything, it’s the exact same temperature as the air around you. The only real indication that you’re in water is the vague cooling sensation you get when it starts evaporating from your skin, and when it seeps up into your clothes. 
There isn’t even any ringing in your ears, you notice. 
It’s completely quiet. 
You find yourself wishing there was music, and no sooner do you think it does a small tape deck appear in front of you. In the time it took you to blink, it was just… there. You can almost feel all the muscles in your face when you frown. You can tell there’s already a cassette in there. Uncurling yourself,you slowly crawl a few feet forward and reach out to hit the play button. The familiar opening of Burnin’ For You fills the empty void you’re sitting in, and just the sound feels like a warm blanket around you. 
There’s a brief moment where you think you can hear another voice, just under the music. But you’re quick to ignore it; you’re comfortable here. No pain, no pressure, no obligation, nothing at all, in fact. Except for you, and music, and comfortable lukewarm water.
The obvious and discordant sound of a busy dial tone makes you sigh. You stab at the stop button with a little too much force, but the sudden silence lets you hear someone gasp behind you. 
You nearly trip and land face first in your hurry to get up. And when you turn around, water splashing around you, there’s a scream stuck in your throat. You shuffle back a few steps and put your hands down from where you had thrown them up in front of you .
“Are… Eleven?” 
She’s taller, obviously, and her hair’s buzzed short instead of the length you’d dreamt of it being at Starcourt. But there’s something about her expression that makes it almost impossible to mistake who she is. 
She frowns and turns to look behind her. When she does, it’s like wisps of smoke appear out of nowhere and rapidly coalesce into the inside of someone’s trailer. Or, part of it, at least. You’re not entirely sure how, but you get the impression that it’s Max’s. You can see the TV set and the couch, you can see the wall, and everyone gathered around Nancy.
Fear forgotten in lieu of concern and curiosity, to walk up next to Eleven and stare on at the scene in front of you. 
“What is this place?” 
“In between,” Eleven says, turning to look at you instead. “How are you here?” 
“I don’t know,” you answer quietly, turning to look at her as well. “I’ve never—this hasn’t happened before. Is it because of you?” 
Eleven doesn’t answer in favour of heading off towards everyone, walking briskly behind the couch Dustin is standing next to. She’s next to the television and looking around, confused, when she points at everyone. 
“You. Where are you?” 
“Wha-what do you mean, where am I? I’m right here.” 
“No,” Eleven says, with an edge of frustration in her voice. “There, with them. Where are you?”
You frown and open your mouth in realization. She’s… you assume she’s right in thinking you should be around there, in the trailer, somewhere. You turn around on yourself once, trying to see if anything else will just suddenly materialize in front of you, but there’s nothing. 
“Eddie’s not there either, so he’s probably with me,” you say in a hurry, walking over to Eleven. “Do you know who he is? Mike probably told you, right? Long hair, about this tall—”
You move to put your hand up, but Eleven quickly grabs your hand and pulls you along with her with a nod. She pulls you back through the living room and, you imagine, through the trailer hallway, and just like magic, wisps of smoke appear again. And there you are, laid down on a bed, with Eddie cradling your head and pressing something to the back of your neck.
“That’s… really fucking weird,” you mutter, reaching up to touch the back of your neck when you feel something cool there. “In between… is this like, some kind of limbo? Are we having an out of body experience right now?” 
“Kind of, I guess,” Eleven says almost airly, moving to crouch next to your unconscious body on the bed. “What happened to you?” 
“I guess I passed out after I plane shifted.” 
“What’s… plane shifting?” 
You let out an amused huff and lower yourself to the ground next to Eleven. “I can go back and forth between home and the Upside Down by myself. I can just think about it and then… poof.”
“Poof,” she repeats quietly, reaching out for your body’s hand on the bed. You grab her wrist before she can touch you. 
“Wait, I can’t wake up yet.” You let her go when Eleven pulls her hand back into her lap. “What do you know about what’s happening right now? Do you know about Vecna?” 
“I’m sorry what?” 
“His name is Henry,” she clarified, holding out her forearm to you. You gingerly let your fingers rest below the 011 tattoo. “He’s number One.” 
“Fuck me,” you breathe, pulling your hand away in favour of running it through your hair. “So he’s like you? From the lab?” 
Eleven frowns but nods. “How do you know?” 
“I’ve dreamt about you. About everything that’s happened since…” You trail off and swallow thickly. “Since, uh. Since Will went missing. When you opened the gate.”
Though she turns to look away from you, you have a feeling you know what kind of expression is on her face. You clear your throat and wring your hands in your lap. 
“So what.. Did you hear anything they were talking about back there?” 
A nod. “They want to kill him. Kill Henry, when he’s trying to kill Max.” 
“I’m sorry what?” 
“She’s going to stop the music and make him hunt her,” Eleven continues, and you hear the same anger beginning to bubble up in her voice as you’re feeling in your chest. “When he’s alone in the attic, they’re going to kill him.”
“That’s insane!” you shout, standing up and motioning wildly behind you. “They’ll get themselves killed! There’s no way he’s not going to know they’re coming after him!”
“I know,” Eleven says curtly, getting up and turning to you, grabbing at your wrist. “But hey won’t be alone. I’ll get out. I can help.” 
“Get out?” You repeat,using your free hand to grab at her shoulder. “Get out of where? Where are you?”
“I don’t have time,” Eleven says, turning her head to look at the scene behind her that’s slowly starting to fade away. “I don’t have time,” she repeats more urgently, and pulls at your wrist when she turns back to look at you. “But you do. You need to help them. You need to hide them.” 
“What—man, you don’t make sense, how am I supposed to hide four grown ass—”
“I have to go,” Eleven cuts you off, releasing your wrist and stepping away. “Tell them when you wake up. Tell them I’m coming. Please. Hide them. Hide.” 
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You’re gasping for breath when you wake up like you’d been unable to breathe for the past few minutes. You don’t bother opening your eyes. You reach out and wave your hand around for a second before it finds and lands on Eddie’s face, effectively shutting him up, and push him away. 
“Quiet, nerd, I’m processing,” you croak, pulling the cold washcloth from beneath your neck and covering your eyes with your free arm. 
“Processing?” Eddie parrots incredulously, swatting your hand away and out of his face. “The hell does that mean?”
You sigh wearily and groan as you try to sit up. When your arms buckle and before you can fall back down, Eddie’s sat down on the side of the bed and throws an arm around your shoulders and a hand beneath your collarbones to help prop you up. 
“How long have I been out?” 
“Literally hours, dude, it’s already morning.”
You swear under your breath and gesture wildly at Eddie to get off the bed. When he does, you swing your legs over the side and, with a deep breath, get up and hold onto his shoulder for dear life. 
“Oh boy, being conscious doesn’t feel good,” you groan, wrapping your free arm around your stomach and swallowing down the nausea. “They got anything to eat? I need food before I rip Max a new one.”
With his arm now under yours, Eddie half-drags you to the kitchen counter, which you immediately slump against. He’s rummaging through the cupboard, and it’s only when you have your hand deep in a half-empty box of cheerios that you realize it’s eerily quiet in the trailer. 
You look up to find everyone doing their best to pretend they hadn’t been staring very intently at you just a second earlier. You slowly resume your crunchy chewing and swallow loudly before waving at the small crowd in front of you.
“I’m fine, you may resume your commiserating until I’ve eaten enough to bitch about how fucking stupid your plan is.”
Your comment is greeted with a cacophony of arguments—”It’s not stupid!” and “Do you have a better idea?” and, your favourite, “We don’t have our witch so what else can we do?”
You finish your second handful of cheerios and nod quietly, trying to untangle each upset voice from each other and clear your throat. 
“You don’t physically have your witch,” you specify, digging back into the box of cheerios. Eddie helpfully passes you a bottle of something to wash it down. Though you hope it’s beer, a quick sniff of it reveals that it’s just boring root beer. 
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, arms crossed from his place on the couch. “El’s literally not here.”
“Physically, no, you’re right,” you start, passing the box over to Eddie who eagerly shoves his hands in it with a quiet thank you. “We talked. She’s gonna—”
“You talked?” Dustin cuts you off, incredulously, holding a hand out to make you pause. “You talked. To Eleven. You were just gonna move right on past that?”
“Yeah, Henderson, we talked. Shut up and listen,” you grumble, and with a grunt of effort, pull yourself up to sit on the counter. “She doesn’t like the idea of you,” you start, staring intently at Max. “Using yourself as bait. And honestly? I hate the idea too, it’s way too dangerous. Y’all seem to have forgotten that we don’t just have a couple bloodthirsty, hormonal sportsball players after us. It’s the whole god damn town. Anyone finds any one of us and we’re screwed. Nevermind literally anything finding us in the Upside Down.”
“No one’s looking for me or Robin, or even Steve,” Nancy retorts, almost too quietly for you to hear. She glances around at the other two and they both nod eagerly. 
“Yeah,” Robin chimes in. “I fly under everyone’s radar, no one’s gonna be looking for me.”
You shake your head and cross your arms. “Won’t matter, if you’re seen with any of the rest of us, you’re done. Right? Cause you kids got yourselves arrested?”
Lucas, Dustin and Max have the decency to look down or away when you look at them. 
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” You sigh and throw your head back, looking up at the ceiling like it’ll offer some kind of reassurance or encouragement. Though it doesn’t come from the ceiling, you do feel a warm hand gently rest on your knee. You run your tongue along your teeth when you bring your head back and look at Eddie.
“You got a plan in there, Cleric?” He asks, turning to put the now-empty box of cheerios in the sink. 
“Eleven said she’s coming,” you start slowly, looking down at your socked feet as you swing them. “I don’t know where she is, she just said she’d ‘get out’, whatever that means.” 
“She’s in trouble,” Lucas says, looking over at Dustin. “That's probably why no one’s picking up the phone. No way Mike would just sit there and do nothing.” 
“And if Mike’s gone, so’s Will.” Dustin adds, and there’s a dawning look of realization creeping into everyone’s face. 
“And where Will goes—” Robin starts, looking over to Nancy. 
“...Jonathan follows.”
“Shit,” Dustin whispers, bringing both hands up to his head and turning away. 
“So I’m guessing that this is like, a really bad thing.” Eddie looks nervously back and forth between everyone, until his eyes land back on you. “Anything else?” 
“Well, I know Vecna is Henry,” you start, and Dustin and Lucas both say ‘One’ at the same time. “Right, whatever, Miscellaneous TK Asshole. Doesn’t matter. Point is that he’s just another lab kid like Eleven.”
“Absolutely not just like Eleven,” Steve grumps. 
“No, she’s right,” Dustin says. “We literally just talked about this.”
“Yeah and the conclusion of that conversation was fucking stupid,” you reiterate, and don’t miss how Eddie’s fingers grip your knee justa bit tighter. “It’s reckless. If any of us get interrupted at any point, or if someone so much as spots us, we’re done for.”
“We haven’t figured out the distraction either,” Eddie adds, and you frown as you turn to look at him. 
“What distraction?” 
“One team goes to kill Vecna in the Upside Down and one team distracts the demobats,” Steve explains quickly, though it sounds like he’s starting to realize that yeah, it does sound like a dumb plan, actually. 
“Demobats, alright,” you mutter, rubbing your face with both hands before letting them fall into your lap. “The whole killing Vecna thing is the only good part about that. Using Max as bait is too risky. Using people as a distraction is also fucking stupid. Do none of you remember—”
The lump in your throat forces you to stop talking. You lick your lips nervously and look back up to the ceiling to try and dry your misty eyes. 
“...she’s not wrong,” Nancy speaks up, a little bit louder this time. “There’s already enough people dead. We don’t need to be taking unnecessary risks.”
You’re pinching the bridge of your nose to attempt to get your lacrimal glands back under control when it hits you. Hide them, she said. You start to snap your fingers and point to Eddie and Dustin in turn. 
“Uhhh, quick, uh, the uh, the cleric spell list, prevents evil damage or something.”
Dustin and Eddie both flounder for a second before Lucas is the one to answer. 
“P-protection from evil!”
“That’s the bitch!” You shout, hopping off the counter and bouncing off your feet. “For all intents and purposes, TK Asshole is a lich, right? I can just ‘Protection From Evil’ you before you go find Vecna and you’ll be good!” 
“That’s assuming you can even do that,” Steve points out, uncrossing his arms to gesture vaguely at you. “You can go to the Upside Down and apparently prevent someone from like, telepathically communicating with you, but that doesn’t mean you can do anything else.” 
You huff through your nose and, in an act of defiance, screw your eyes shut. 
This unleashes a wave of panicked screaming and you’re backed up into the counter by Eddie, whose hands have a vice grip on your shoulders and whose eyes are nearly wild with fear. 
“Do not,” he growls, actually growls, out at you. You put your hands up in surrender with a quiet whimper. He keeps you in place for a few more seconds as the room quiets down, but gives you a small shake before letting go. “Don’t.” You nod mutely before the room’s attention is drawn back to Lucas. 
“If he does work like a lich,” he starts, looking from Dustin to Erica before his eyes land on Eddie. “He’s gonna have a phylactery.”
“Please make sense,” Robin pleads from her place on the floor. 
“A phylactery is kind of like, a genie’s bottle, I guess?” You try to explain, looking over to Eddie for help. 
“Basically it won’t matter if we kill him if he has an object his life essence is tied to. He’ll just keep coming back.” 
“How do we know he even has one of those things?” Steve asks. 
“It’s actually not all that crazy,” Dustin says, motioning to you. “Everything she can do matches the cleric spell list. So far, almost everything we’ve encountered works just like some kind of DND mechanic.”
“Which is absolutely weird and insane.”
“Thank you, Robin, that is weird and insane,” Steve huffs, frowning. “What if it’s just a coincidence?” 
“Yeah, I mean, you can’t even use Cure Light Wounds,” Erica throws in, and you scoff and hold up your palms. She quirks a brow and looks at you like you grew another head. 
“I kind of crash landed and busted my hands when I plane shifted to find you bozos,” you explain, nodding over at Nancy, Steve and Robin. “I didn’t want to risk it on Steve, so I tried it on myself when we were walking to the Wheelers’ house. It didn’t really do anything on the spot, but,” and you shake your hands to bring the attention back to the smooth, unmarred skin of your palms. “It kicked in at some point. So yeah, I absolutely can use Cure Light Wounds, thank you.”
You’re getting really tired of the room’s decibel count obnoxiously rising almost every other time you open your mouth.
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Words: 4,256 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan + flashbacks in other eras Warnings: language (if you have a problem with swearing what are you even doing here? this isn't the place for you...), general snarkiness and hostility Summary: A run pushes Y/N over the breaking point with Daryl and yet when Rick and Denise ask a favor of her, she gives in and finds herself gearing up for another run with the archer. This time, just the two of them.
Your name: submit What is this?
“Would you get off my ass, Dixon? Jesus Christ. If you move in any closer, I’m gonna start charging you fucking rent,” you growled.
“Shut up and just move,” the archer spat back.
Annie shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Rosita next to her. “Uh, is everything okay?” she asked, the worry obvious in her voice.
“Hmm?” Rosita hummed back, one of her eyebrows lifting.
“Things seem a little tense,” Annie said, her eyes flitting back toward you and Daryl. This was the Alexandrian’s first run with your group and she was obviously unnerved.
“Oh,” Rosita said with a nod. She was so used to it by now she hardly batted an eyelash at the arguing anymore. “No, they’re always like this… Doesn’t mean anything. Completely normal,” she explained.
Annie’s eyes widened. “Is it?” she asked in an undertone.
Rosita shrugged and was at a loss for a moment about how to explain the blatant hostility between you and Daryl. “There’s… history there,” she said finally.
“Oh,” Annie said, frowning, still not entirely understanding.
As if on cue, you and Daryl had another heated exchange. “Are we doin’ this today or should I get my goddamn bedroll out?” the archer said.
“Daryl, I fucking told you already to back off. You want to run right into a herd of walkers?”
“We’ve been here for fuckin’ hours. There ain’t nothin’ new to see from here. We need to move,” he growled.
“Move where? Right into one of those stores we can’t see into? Oh, or how about over to the left? Toward that huuuuuge blind spot? You know, that one where we can’t see a goddamn thing? Does that sound good? I’m trying to keep us alive out here so just keep your fucking panties on,” you spat back.
“Fuck this,” he muttered under his breath. “Yer fuckin’ done.” He turned and glanced over his shoulder at everyone else and signaled to move up in the direction of the parking lot to the right, toward the ultimate destination you were all going to scavenge.
He pushed past you carelessly.
“What the hell are you doing?! Daryl!” You gave Rosita an affronted look as she passed you. She pulled a sympathetic face and shrugged, but followed his lead. You gritted your teeth and waited for everyone to pass you before you fell in at the rear, fuming.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Later, you were all back in Alexandria in one piece. The run had been fairly successful. You came back with a pile of supplies, but you still weren’t happy.
“I’m telling you, Rick. I’m fucking done! I’m not doing it anymore,” you said, pacing the length of the kitchen.
Rick pinched the bridge of his nose. “Y/N, we’ve been over this. You and Daryl are the best fighters and the most experienced with making runs. I can’t, in good conscience, send our people out there without both of you.”
“I don’t give a shit about your conscience, Rick. I’m fucking done. If I have to go out there with him one more time, I’m gonna strangle him with my bare hands,” you said through gritted teeth. “I’m not doing it. So, I guess you better draw up plans for two separate teams for runs and make damn sure that Daryl and I aren’t on the same one.” You turned and were storming away up the hall, your footfalls loud, when Michonne was coming in the opposite direction, drawn by the yelling.
“Hey, Y/N,” she said kindly as you passed her.
“HI!” you yelled back, your anger plain and stinging. It was punctuated by the front door slamming far harder than necessary, so hard the glass rattled in the pane.
Michonne came into the kitchen with her eyebrows raised to see Rick leaning heavily on his hands on the kitchen island. “War of the Worlds again?” Michonne asked in an undertone.
Rick let out a huge sigh and straightened up to look at her. “Did it ever stop?” he asked, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “I don’t know what to do about those two,” he drawled.
“There’s nothing you can do,” Michonne said. “They’re adults. They’ve got to deal with it themselves.”
“They won’t. They aren’t. That’s the problem. How long has this been going on now?”
“Since the prison,” Michonne said.
Rick nodded. “And now Y/N just told me she won’t go on another run if Daryl is going. How the hell am I supposed to make this work?”
“You’re in charge, remember? Tell them to suck it up,” she said, grabbing a can of food from the counter and examining it. “Give them a classic tough love Rick Grimes speech,” she said, a trace of amusement in her voice as she replaced the canned peaches.
Rick ignored her jesting. “Problem is I’m starting to think that it may be more dangerous to have them together. If they’re so focused on this pissing contest and who has the upper hand, they’re eventually going to miss something important. And that’s how someone ends up dead.”
Michonne nodded, seeing the weight of this on his shoulders. “True… Maybe we should just lock them together in a closet and see what happens. Let them have it out.”
Rick glanced up at her and this time there was some trace of amusement in his eyes. “Don’t tempt me…”
_ _ _ _ _ _
“Knock knock,” Carol said, tapping lightly on the doorframe that led into Daryl’s claimed space in the basement. Leaning forward she could see him flat on his back in his bed, twirling a crossbow bolt between his fingers. “Can I come in?” He grunted a noise of assent and she stepped in. “You didn’t come up for dinner,” she said.
He sat up on the edge of his bed and tossed the bolt down on a box at his bedside. “Ain’t hungry.”
Carol nodded. “How did the run go?”
He scoffed and rolled his eyes, but obviously wasn’t going to say anything more. He scooted back on his bed until he hit the wall and he slouched somewhat; his posture closed off.
“Rick said you found a lot of supplies. Was there a close call or something?” Carol pressed him.
“Did someone get hurt?” she prodded.
“Then that sounds like a good day. What’s the problem?”
“Fuckin’ Y/N. That’s the problem,” he spat. He flopped down on his bed again and turned so his back was to her. “‘M tired.”
Carol couldn’t help feeling a little hurt, but she brushed it off. She knew how things between you and Daryl ate at him, even if he wouldn’t admit it. She tried not to take his foul mood personally. “Alright.” She walked over and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. He shrugged her hand off. “See you tomorrow, then,” she said softly.
As soon as her footsteps were gone, Daryl rolled over onto his back again and stared up at the ceiling above him. He wasn’t tired. And he knew he wouldn’t sleep. He just wanted to fucking punch something. You were so goddamn infuriating! You argued with him any chance you could. If he said the sky was blue, you’d tell everyone he was a fucking idiot and that it was clearly orange.
He slammed a fist down on his mattress and squeezed his eyes shut, draping an arm over them. The only thing that made him feel worse than the constant fighting was the fact that it was entirely his fault. As they say, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions…
_ _ _ _ _ _
Later that night, Michonne woke from a vivid dream and decided she needed some air. She headed out onto the porch and one glance at the house next door, where the rest of the group was staying, had your silhouette softly framed in the glow of the lantern by the front door. You were smoking, something you never did, and that alone was enough to start her feet down the stairs.
You looked up, seeing her moving in the darkness, and your eyes followed her progress over the small patch of lawn between the two houses and up onto the porch. You tamped out your cigarette in the glass jar sitting beside you, exhaling your last lungful of smoke, and leaned back against the support column.
“Can’t sleep?” Michonne asked, coming to stop beside you, her palms landing on the porch railing as she leaned back against it beside you.
You nodded but said nothing, your eyes drifting out to the dark and empty street.
She studied your face thoughtfully for a moment and glanced down at the cigarette butt which was still sending a small stream of smoke up into the night air. “Not like you to smoke. Everything okay?”
This time you gave her a wry look, your mouth tightening into a thin line. “You know it isn’t. Don’t act like you didn’t hear all about the run today,” you said, turning your eyes back out toward the silent rows of houses.
“The run? Or you and Daryl?” You shot her a look. “Maybe I did,” she said, shifting a little beside you. There was a beat of thick silence where she tried to figure out how to get to the core truth of the matter quickly. “Y/N—” Just that was enough to put your back up, hackles raised and bristling like you were a cornered wild dog. “Michonne, don’t start,” you said, sliding down off your perch on the railing. “There’s nothing to talk about.” You started toward the front door, desperate to escape inside where everyone was asleep and no one would be trying to wrench open the door you’d slammed shut and padlocked.
Michonne sighed heavily and started to follow you across the porch. “You have to deal with this,” she urged. “We never know how much time we have and—”
You rounded on her. You wanted to yell, but more than that you didn’t want anyone else waking up. The silent house was to be your new escape. “Stop. Don’t you dare try and guilt trip me about the way things are.” Your teeth clenched and your eyes flashed angrily, and she knew even her weak attempt had pushed you too far. “If it was the Governor, after what he did to Andrea. After Hershel. Knowing what he wanted to do to you… would you be able to just deal with it?”
Michonne’s stomach clenched and she shook her head slightly. “I don’t know. I—”
“Yeah, well, I do. You wouldn’t.” Your hand landed on the door handle and you pushed inside, giving her one final glance as you closed the door, stopping yourself from slamming it.
Michonne was left in the dark, defeated, and she wandered back over to the other house with a pit in her stomach, pushing her hair back over her shoulders in frustration.
A few days went by and you had time to cool down somewhat from your last confrontation with Daryl. The two of you never seemed to run into each other while inside Alexandria despite the fact that the two group houses were next to each other. You didn’t know if he purposely steered clear of you but you definitely would re-route if necessary to avoid him, simply not wanting the stress. Your heart rate and blood pressure seemed to rise involuntarily just at the sight of him. You found yourself unable to catch more than a few hours of sleep at a time, stalked by phantoms you couldn’t slay, and it was wearing on you. You had planned to go hunting that morning, but found that you simply didn’t have the energy for it. Instead, you were sitting down by the reservoir, repairing a small tear in your pack when Rick and Denise found you.
You glanced over your shoulder at the soft sounds of their shoes in the grass. Your jaw clenched at the sight of Rick, but it relaxed again when Denise came into view. Rick wasn’t likely to lecture you in front of her, but their expressions were grim and your hands froze in the middle of their delicate work.
Rick stopped next to you, his hand going to rest on the hilt of his gun in its holster. Denise hovered slightly behind him. Your brow creased and you set your pack aside and stood up to face them, a question readable in your expression. Rick seemed anxious and Denise looked worried. “What is it?” you asked them, your heart starting to hammer against your rib cage.
“Denise has a favor to ask of you,” Rick said, glancing over at her. Your eyes met hers and you waited while she seemed to gather herself for a moment, getting ready to speak.
“It’s Mrs. McConnell,” she said, wringing her hands, her lips forming a soft frown.
You drew an inhale in through your teeth and nodded knowingly. “The cancer,” you said.
Denise nodded. “I’m not sure how long she has left, but there’s nothing more I can do for her. We’re at that stage of just trying to keep her comfortable.” She hesitated again before pulling a small square of paper out of her back pocket and glancing down at it. “There are some things I need for supportive care,” she said, holding the list out. You took it and glanced down at it. There were maybe twelve items bulleted down the page. Some of them wouldn’t be too hard to find but others… “I was hoping you could make a run and get what we need. I’m doing my best to keep her pain level bearable but what I have now won’t last long.”
You looked up at her again and nodded. “Okay. No problem. I’ll get some people—”
“You and Daryl will go,” Rick interrupted you. He watched your face harden.
You took a beat and drew in a sharp breath. “Rick—” He cut you off.
“You’re going to have to go to a medical center or a hospital for this,” he said pointedly. You knew what that meant; probably a lot of the dead trapped inside a labyrinth of a building.
Your mouth opened to speak but you simply closed it again and stared back down at the list. “I know that,” you said finally. “But I’m not—”
“A hospital means quick and quiet,” Rick emphasized. “Glenn is still out on a run with the others. And that means you and Daryl are the best we have.” Your jaw tensed, but he continued. “Now I know that you are not a selfish person, which is why I’m sure you’re going to put whatever personal problems you have aside so you can help make a dying woman as comfortable as possible.” Now his jaw was the one clenching as he gave you a challenging stare.
And when he framed it like that, you couldn’t argue. You felt like an asshole. You let out a sigh, your shoulders slumping a little as you gave in. You nodded and met Rick’s eyes. “Sure. Of course.” Your attention turned to Denise. “We’ll take care of it. I know where to go,” you assured her.
She looked relieved. “Thank you.” You nodded and bent to collect your bag. Rick’s voice cut through the air again.
“Denise, why don’t you get back to the clinic? I’m just gonna go over a few things with Y/N here,” he said. Denise nodded and murmured another thanks to you, giving your shoulder a friendly and grateful squeeze before departing. Rick’s eyes were back on your face as she disappeared around the corner of the nearest house. Here came the lecture you were waiting for… He sighed heavily and rubbed a hand over his face and you simply waited for him to speak his mind. “I’m sure that I don’t need to tell you that this—” he searched for the right word but couldn’t find it, “—problem you have with Daryl is dangerous,” he said.
Your brow furrowed. You didn’t understand what he meant.
The sheriff’s eyes flickered between yours, creases in between his eyebrows. “If you’re thinking about anything besides what is happening in the moment out there, you will run into trouble,” he said. “Your head needs to be 100% clear if you’re going outside those walls, and if it’s filled with animosity at your run partner, it’s not clear.” His gaze was steely.
You chewed on the inside of your cheek for a moment, wondering if it was worth it to argue, but you decided against it. “I’ve got it,” you said. He seemed a little unsure but after studying your unwavering and determined gaze for a long moment he nodded and seemed satisfied.
“Alright,” he sighed. “If you’re sure.” You nodded again.
“It’s under control.”
“Okay… Do you want me to—?”
“I’ll do it,” you interrupted. “We’ll need to go over the details anyway, make a plan. It might as well be me.”
“I think Daryl was up at Aaron and Eric’s place,” Rick said, giving you one last long look as you nodded.
“I’ll go talk to him in a minute. I just want to finish patching this pack up.” Rick seemed to be on the edge of saying something else, but thought better of it and he strode back to the sidewalk at the top of the hill and soon disappeared from your view. You sighed and sank back into the grass again. You were annoyed by the way your hands were shaking as you finished stitching up the tear in the fabric. You attributed it to adrenaline and stress, though if you were more truthful with yourself you would’ve acknowledged that it was nerves. Seeking the archer out for a solo run outside the walls was just about the last thing you expected (wanted?) to do that day, but in this world you had to play with the hand you were dealt. You soon were back on your feet, following the sidewalk up to Aaron’s garage.
The garage door was open and one of the trucks frequently used for supply runs was parked in front of it. You could vaguely hear some metallic tinkering as you approached but you couldn’t see Daryl anywhere. Surmising that he must be underneath, your feet stalled out as you arrived around the back by the truck bed. You were anxiously wringing your hands, about to say his name or try to clear the tightness in your throat when he heard your shuffled steps on the concrete and paused in his work. Glancing over, he was surprised to recognize your boots. Puzzled, he wiped the sweat on his brow with his forearm, took a steadying breath, and slid out from underneath the truck on the mechanic’s creeper. You took a step back as he climbed to his feet, his gaze fixed on your face and his expression inquisitive, blue eyes narrowed. He pulled the red rag from his back pocket and began to wipe his hands, though he knew he was probably simply smearing the oil and dirt around more than anything, but he needed to do something to keep his fingers occupied.
You found yourself staring at the beads of sweat running down below his shirt from his collarbone and the way his wavy hair was sticking to his neck. There was a healthy sheen of dirt and sweat on his bare arms and you ripped your eyes away when you felt them lingering a little too long. He didn’t say anything; just continued looking at you curiously. He couldn’t even remember the last time you’d sought him out for anything and the realization quickened his pulse. Were you there to yell at him? Lecture him? That seemed the most likely reason… Or maybe, he foolishly hoped, you were just there to talk. It was right when he was clinging to that irrational hope that you reached into your pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, holding it out to him.
His brow furrowed as he extended a hand to grasp it, painfully aware of how close his fingers were to brushing yours. You withdrew them quickly, almost seemingly before he even had hold of the paper. Unfolding it, his heart still racing obnoxiously fast, he saw that it was a supply list. He glanced up at you, obviously confused and you finally wet your lips and cleared your throat to speak.
“Denise needs this stuff,” you said. He just continued staring at you. “Mrs. McConnell isn’t doing well.”
The questioning expression on his face slackened and he nudged his nose up in a nod. “Mmm,” he hummed. “Tha’s too bad,” he drawled. He flicked the paper a little in his hand and started to turn away from you. “I can take some people out tomorrow,” he said, though he was confused as to why you weren’t claiming the job.
You clenched your teeth as you watched his broad shoulders start to angle his back toward you, effectively closing you out. “Rick wants—Rick is sending us,” you said. Us. The word seemed to catch in your throat and you hated that you’d said it. “You and me, I mean.”
Daryl froze with his back to you for a moment, resisting the urge to replay how your voice sounded when you said “us.” He turned toward you slowly, suddenly aware that his fingers were wrinkling the supply list he was clenching it so hard. “And ya agreed to that?” he asked, trying his hardest to keep his tone completely flat.
Your eyes drifted down to your boots. “It wasn’t up for debate.” Daryl watched the muscle in your jaw tense as your teeth clenched down.
“Mmm,” he hummed again.
You rolled your eyes and looked up at him again. “Glenn is still out with Tara and those guys on a run and since we’re going to have to go into a hospital—”
“Ya, I got it,” he interrupted you, refolding the little square of paper. You glanced away, annoyed that he’d cut you off.
“Okay,” you said. If you kept biting your cheek the way you were, you’d be tasting the coppery tang of blood soon.
“Okay?” he repeated, glancing up at you from behind hooded eyes.
You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “What?”
“Yer fine with this?” he asked, trying to read you. His scrutinization sent your blood pressure rising.
“You really want me to answer that?” you retorted.
Daryl’s empty fist clenched and unclenched along his side as he thrust the supply list back at you. “Nah. I don’t need ya to. S’pretty fuckin’ clear,” he said, turning away and wandering farther into the garage. He began straightening the tools he’d been using and putting things away.
Now you did taste blood in your mouth. Irritated, you stepped closer to him again, slipping the list back into your pocket. “So… leave first thing tomorrow? Half hour before sunrise?”
“Alright,” he said, still not looking back at you. “We can hit Sibley Memorial. There were still tons of supplies last time we were there.”
“Tons of walkers too,” you said under your breath. He turned to look at you over his shoulder and you held his eyes steadfastly.
“Ain’t no way around that. Unless ya got some magic med center untouched by the shitstorm I dun know about,” he said gruffly. When you didn’t respond he turned back to the toolbox in front of him.
“Sibley is bit of a fucking hike, isn’t it? Into the city.”
“Like I said, unless ya got a better idea…” You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth and chewed it anxiously, but said nothing. You didn’t have a better idea. In fact, you’d had the same idea, but you sure as shit weren’t going to tell him that. “We can take my bike,” he said finally, flipping the latch on the toolbox.
“I’d rather take the truck.” Sitting pressed against him for the ride, cozied up with your arms around his waist was something you’d much rather avoid.
“Well, tough,” he spat back. “City’s gridlocked. And I ain’t looking to walk twenty fuckin’ blocks. S’gonna be a long day as it is. We might as well ride in as close as we can.”
“Whatever,” you murmured. Part of you wanted to fight simply on principle, but you knew he was right. It made more sense to take the motorcycle. “Fine. See you in the morning.” With that, you turned on your heel and started back down the street toward home. Daryl wandered out a few seconds later and watched your figure growing smaller and smaller. He nestled the side of his thumbnail between his teeth. Tomorrow.
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