#short run seattle

[sinusproblem]

"Phantastique Lagoon" done for @scarfffcomic issue 16, a free comix newspaper out of Seattle. Pickup a copy from @shortrunseattle next weekend!!

[phoenixprods]

Today's FANzine Live New Releases video looks at a zine...about a zine festival! The Short Run Comix & Arts Festival in Seattle had been going for 10 years when this celebratory publication was released, and they had SO MUCH to share!

[lowpolybread]

i'm tabling at short run comix in seattle on november 2!

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐓𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞… || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ Joel and you find comfort while going back to Jackson and after killing Nora, Ellie overhears Jesse and Tommy telling Dina that you and Joel might be alive.

warnings_ age gap (late 20s/joel’s age in s2), pregnant!reader, angst, fluff, fallacy references, canon divergence, SHORT PART,no proofreading

Notes_ next week we’ll get so many joel crumbs omg

「 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐫: 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 」

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 Pedro

✰ Index (+ fics here)

୨ৎ───୨ৎ───୨ৎ———୨ৎ───୨ৎ

Wrong.

“What do you mean wrong? I’ve been trying for two fucking goddamn hours?” Ellie yells tiredly, throwing her hands out in disbelief.

“Because yer hand is still too rigid,” Joel answers her, taking the guitar off her hands.

“I’m not done for today!”

“Yeah, I think you are.” Ellie turns to see you standing in the door, baby Cerise snuggling in the crook of your neck.

Ellie smiled at the sight of you, fresh out of the shower, your hair wet and wearing a tank top and sweatpants.

“When did you get home?” The girl asked.

“Maybe half an hour ago,” you say, entering the room.

“Darlin’… stop being sneaky,” Joel says.

He stands up to greet you with a kiss and then grabs Cerise from your arms.

“You stop being paranoid,” Cerise babbles as she starts pulling Joel’s hair and making you laugh. “See, even your daughter is scolding you”

Ellie looked at the sight in awe, she was just past a year old, her look every day resembling Joel’s more and more.

She was happy, her birthday was in a week, and so far, she felt at home.

Ellie had found her family. Her safe place and everything she never thought she could’ve had.

“Go and let Cerise play in the kitchen while we cook dinner,” Joel nods at your words as you smile at him.

Looks really speak; and you and Joel rarely said I love you out loud, but every look you two shared screamed how in love you were.

Ellie watches as Joel and Cerise leave towards the living room, downstairs.

“So… a week for your birthday, huh?” Ellie sighs with a smile, nodding at you. “I’m warning you, I’ll sing you ‘happy birthday’!”

“Fuck you, god no” both of you start cackling and she finally stands up.

Hands on her hips, just like Joel.

To your surprise, Ellie hugs you.

“I’m kidding. But you don’t have to do anything for me,” you hug her back, brushing her hair.

“Shut up or I’ll make Maria gather everyone to hear me sing for you.”

Soon, a lot of sound starts coming from downstairs, Cerise screaming and laughing while Joel curses.

“I NEED HELP DOWN HERE!” Ellie hears your husband yell, and both of you laugh again.

“Let’s go help your old man,” the girl says as you pat her back.

Ellie loved you very much. And she couldn’t help but feel like you felt the same way.

You were silently her mother, helpmate, and one of her best friends.

When she opened her eyes, she rubbed them and sighed, feeling the cold breeze of the morning.

It was just a dream; you and Joel were gone.

She was in Seattle.

…

You can’t move.

Moving feels heavy, breathing isn’t enough.

You lift your head, and there is the woman in a braid.

She is about to kill Joel…

A few years younger than you, possessing an undeniable rage, she hits Joel's skull with a golf club once, twice, and you lose the count. Your vision gets blurry thanks to the tears. His moans of extreme pain make you cry and scream to the woman to stop.

The blood stars are running down his temple. His eye was so swollen he couldn’t open it. You weep harder, doing everything you can to get free from the embrace of two strangers.

To kill that woman and let your husband live.

But it’s too much blood.

“WAKE UP, Y/N!” Joel yells.

Until there isn’t.

You open your eyes and understand it was a nightmare. Product of what you saw at the ski lodge.

“What?” you ask, still half asleep.

Joel is there, kneeling in the old, creaky bed, firmly gripping your shoulders and looking very worried.

“You started crying asleep,” he says. “And then, you started screaming.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you okay?” Joel asks, ignoring your apologies.

“Yes… just- what happened at the ski lodge playing with my head” his heart pang in pain at your words.

“C'mere, darlin’…” and you do, you snuggle in the arms of your husband like a baby. “I’m not goin’ anywhere”

Joel holds you tightly, scared to let you go. Both of you are swimming in the same queen-sized bed, but pressed against each other. Joel understands that if they had switched the roles. If it were him seeing how you were beaten to death, Joel wouldn’t have survived.

Let alone now that you told him about the pregnancy.

He tries to tame his fears. It wasn’t the first time after all.

But still, you were his wife, the woman he couldn’t breathe without. Joel knew he would get obsessed with trying to protect you all the way from Arlington to Jackson.

It was safe to close his eyes, so he did, succumbing to sleep with you in his arms.

…

Joel wakes up to a cold on, left side of the bed. He sits up worried, then hears a shot, his sensitive leg is long forgotten as he runs outside the room, towards the entrance of the house. He looks around and finally sees you with his rifle and a hare in hand. Joel lets out a relieved sigh.

“Are you insane? You scared me to death,” he says as you step up to the old porch of the house.

After seeing him so worried and scared, you quickly wrap your arms around his neck, dropping the dead hare.

“I’m sorry, Joel,” you whisper in his ear.

As much as both of you tried to continue your lives, the trauma of the ski lodge and Denver remained haunting your memories.

“Let’s go inside, baby,” you nod at him, letting him guide you inside the house.

After making it to Arlington the day before, Joel and you found an abandoned neighborhood. It reminded me a lot of the descriptions he and Tess shared about Bill and Frank’s home. Until you visited the house of the late couple in 2023 and confirmed it by yourself.

The woods around it had grown so much that the abandoned place and there was no trace of infected or people living nearby. Joel suggested staying the night, so the horse you two had could also rest and eat something.

You fell asleep feeling hungry, making it harder to not go out to hunt something to eat.

The least you could do was to find some food for your husband and the baby.

The truth was slowly sinking in. You hadn’t been able to process the fact that you were pregnant again. Hours after getting the diagnosis, Masiel almost got you, and then the hospital was attacked.

But a new life was growing in your womb. And once again, you were out in the wild with Joel, just like the first time.

You place the hare on the dining table and turn to look at your husband. With the same clothes of the day before, disheveled hair, and eye bags showing how tired he was.

Joel looks up and down at you, he places his hands on his hips, and tries to formulate a decent sentence.

“So… we’re expecting again,” he says, and you simply nod. “How far are you?”

“Almost eight weeks,” god knows why, but suddenly the conversation feels awkward.

You cross your arms, leaning against the old dining table.

“You can’t be out here anymore,” Joel starts, already showing his uneasiness on the issue. “It’s not safe.”

“This ain’t my first rodeo, Joel,” you remind him as he sighs and rolls his eyes. “I knew the risk, but it’s not like you pulled out each night, and despite being at a hospital, condoms are not a trend anymore.”

“The sooner we get to Jackson, the sooner I’ll stop being a burden for you.” Turning around, you start to skin the hare.

“That’s not what I meant,” Joel explains.

“But that’s what it sounded like,” you say, venturing inside the kitchen without looking at him. Your eyes prick with tears, and you do your best to swallow the painful lump in your throat, threatening to come out with a loud sob.

Joel sighs once again, dropping his head back and taking a deep breath.

But you did understand, Joel. He was tired, dealing with ptsd. The least he wanted was more pressure. And you tell him his wife is pregnant? Yeah, he was stressed out.

But in the mind of a woman gestating, your emotions were a little out of control. And you were afraid of indeed feeling like a burden before going home. Where more issues would lurk since nobody knew Joel, and you were alive.

…

A family of four lived inside the house. Two teenagers, mom and dad. They had too many pictures together, framed on the dusty wall in the hallway that connected all the rooms on the second floor.

You enter the master bedroom, completely untouched. The living proof that the world was once fine. The shame of wandering through a stranger’s belongings was long gone. The woman of the house had been tall, frail, and had a shy face, but was very pretty. Still, her clothes fit you, and she had a lot of expired makeup.

Your hands fold three tops to put inside your backpack when the door creaks open, and it makes you alert and startled.

It was Joel, fresh out of the shower. You went first, and the water was flowing brown for the first three minutes.

“You scared me,” you say, returning to fold the clothes.

“I’m sorry,” Joel states, but you just shrug.

“It’s okay, this house is old as hell.”

“No, I mean I’m sorry about me being an asshole before” you look up at him.

“It’s not like the first time. I’m just… shocked,” he admits, taking a seat in the bed where you were folding the clothes. There’s a little expression of awe on your face as you listen to him.

“I get it, Joel,” from the bottom of your heart, you mean it.

“I just want to protect you and make sure we make it back home.”

“I think the worst is over. We were with the enemy for months, and we didn’t know,” Joel nods.

“So WLF?…” he asks, sighing.

“They can go and fuck themselves” you say with a bitter smile. “I don’t think they’ll go back to Wyoming. Their policies only apply in big cities where they can afford the risk of making a settlement.”

“Yeah, but what if?- “You grab Joel’s hand to stop him.

“What? They return to the ski lodge to see that our bodies are gone? Or Ellie goes after them for revenge?” Both of you chuckle. “We’ve already taken too long; we need to go back. I can’t keep going to sleep knowing they think we’re dead.”

“I know, darlin’. We are very close…”

Unbeknownst to you and Joel. Not many good things were happening back in Jackson. And certainly not in Seattle.

“So… you are making me a dad again? At the ripe age of 61?” You chuckle at his comment, letting him grasp your hair. “We’re insane, aren’t we?”

“We’re kinda jinxed,” you admit.

“We are. But I don’t mind as long as we’re together,” Joel says, making you unable to not pretend his words didn’t touch your heart.

“Give me a kiss,” you say, stepping between his legs. He smiles amidst the kiss, feeling his chest relax and trying to be optimistic. Just for you, as always.

Drops of rain start tapping against the window, and both of you look at it.

“We’ll leave tomorrow in the morning,” Joel states firmly, you only nod, retuning to kiss him just a little more.

…

The breeze was humid, hot, and you knew you shouldn’t be wearing a dress when you’re out in the wild. But you don’t care, the isolated street in Arlington had proved to be safe enough.

“What are we exactly looking for?” Joel asks, kneeling beside you. Both of you ignore the loud crack of his bones. Mainly because you won’t want to worry.

“Anything that can give us energy or boost our immune system,” you answer with a little smirk.

Your hands dig into the bushes, spider webs gone thanks to the rain that had been pouring for the last two hours.

“I dunno, darlin’… seems like there’s no such thing” at your husband was killing your hope, you shushed him right after grasping something. “What?”

“Oh my god, Joel…”

Fresh raspberries. You were collecting raspberries. You had never tasted them before.

“I had never tasted raspberries in my life,” you say, pulling out your hand from the bushes, at least four raspberries rested in your palm.

Joel smiled at the sight. Seeing you so happy about something so meaningless as finding raspberries reminded him of what the world had reduced to.

And at the same time, he found himself also enjoying the moment. Because anything that made you happy also made him happy.

“Give some water, please.” he hands you a glass with water he had been drinking inside the house.

You rinse the berries, and soon you are handing him some. Joel smiles at you before taking a bite along with you.

The moment feels surreal. Like a deep breath that you had been holding since the day at the ski lodge. A sense of hope that in a couple of days you’ll be in Jackson and everything will be fine again.

Then… birds flying away, scared.

“What was that?” Joel stands up first.

When you do, you see a lot of birds flying away from a trail of dark smoke coming from the south in the woods. “Change of plans, we need to leave now.”

“But we have our-“

“No… y/n, we are leaving right now,” Joel says with a stern look.

You nod, following him with hurried steps inside the house.

You grab your rifle, the food was packed, and the clothes tucked inside the backpacks.

“Fucking hell” you say as you stand in the porch. Joel follows you and stands.

“What?”

“The horse, Joel… is gone,” you say, pointing at the door of the garage.

Your husband sighs tiredly.

“Doesn’t matter. We’ll get a car once we enter the city again; we need to leave.”

You look back at the smoke, looking fainter than before, mixing with the orange sky of the sunset.

You start following Joel with quick steps., your hands holding the rifle as your fingers barely grasped the trigger. Then you see how the large street of old houses starts looking farther and farther, until it disappears from your sight and both of you enter the woods again. To the north…

…

Ellie stands in the darkness, her heart is beating fast, blood rushing with the adrenaline flowing all over.

Some of Nora’s blood was splattered on her face. But her shaky hands gripped the door frame as she watched Tommy bandage Dina’s leg, and Tommy started an improvised meal for her.

“She’s taking longer than expected,” Jesse says.

“She’s coming back, we know it,” Dina bolts to answer him. Ellie knew they were talking about her.

“This was a bad idea,” Tommy adds.

“Tommy. She doing this for”

“For Joel and y/n. I know…” the man glared at Dina.

A heavy silence fell upon the old room.

“She saw all of it. Joel screaming, y/n crying, and-“ as Dina was speaking, Ellie closed her eyes, forcing herself to avoid remembering.

“They might be alive,” Tommy reveals.

Dina seized talking, Ellie gasped, covering her mouth as tears started to roll down her cheeks.

“What?” Dina asks with a broken voice, face full of surprise.

Jesse eyed her with shame. Ellie realized he probably already knew.

Tommy moved away, sighing before standing up and preparing the right words.

“When the horde came, we were out of reach for weeks; we didn’t do patrols,” Dina nodded, urging him to keep talking. “After the reconstruction of Jackson, the snow fell heavier, and we couldn’t reach the ski lodge to collect the bodies. Until the spring arrived, Maria sent Jessie to look again with others.”

Tommy and Jesse eye each other, building tension.

“And?” Dina asked.

“There were no corpses… their backpacks were gone as well,” Jesse said.

Dina sighed, rubbing her eyes.

Ellie almost fainted. Her view turned blurry, and panic flooded her.

The rage she had been containing completely out. She hated even more Nora, her death being proof of her pain. All the trauma, all the suffering… because of that braided woman.

Ellie knew she had to kill Abby.

…

The sound of the river was loud enough to make you almost yell.

Ellie knew she was dreaming. This time, she was aware it was a memory.

She was still in Utah. Joel was leaning against the SUV, rifle in hand, as you were with the girl.

Both of you are still in hospital gowns, splashing water on your faces after hours of being sedated.

“There was no cure, right?” Ellie asks. You shrug, looking at the water flowing.

“Even if there was a cure. I think we would’ve died, Ellie.”

“You have Joel, you have someone waiting for you.” You turn to look at her with a frown. “I don’t. It would’ve been correct for me to make the sacrifice.”

“Ellie… you’re my family,” you firmly say. “You and Joel are my whole world.”

She only eyes you with awe, not knowing what to say. Maybe it was because of the reaction to the sedative.

“I would kill anyone who made me separate from you two,” you admit.

Evidently, the words sank further as time progressed.

__________________________

Short part bc I’m tired, but I’m done with finals so expect longer parts from now on <3

imma start sharing my tw acc bc I’ll gladly be friends with any babe who wants to be moots there, I mainly post about pedro, both in english and spanish so yeah… im @kissmemucho and I have the same pfp as here <3

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭_ @just-mj-or-not @mmkkzz @hiroikegawa @nosebeers @glitterspark @annulmaelae @heartpatch @doodlebob-mp3 @ennvsco @isabella-rose-trastamara @chewie-bars @bypurple @umadirectioner @mrsbilicablog @yvonne-dump @hannah9921 @maystyles @minifresas

[venusincleo]

Time. ii.

Part One [i].

Warnings: MDNI • Explicit • Aaron Pierre x Black!Reader, teasing, edging, tiny bit of impact play, fingering (fem receiving), p in v, creampie, DDLG kink/BDSM (bondage), self!insert, omniscient POV and more...

Summary: You and Aaron have been in a long distance relationship for three months, as you reside in your cozy home in Seattle, and he stays in Los Angeles for work. Only ever having a quick day trip for quality time between your busy schedules, a long awaited break comes up on both of your calendars; three days and two nights at the end of a long week. Finally having the opportunity to see each other face to face, you enjoy a weekend of deeper, more intimate moments.

Word Count: 4.8k❣

A/N: I got a couple other ideas for this mini series in the tuck... so tell me how you like Part Two 🤭🤍

• • •

In the deep of the night, a single sliver of champagne light glows from the cracked bathroom door adjacent to your bed. As your eyes flutter all the way open at the sight of such a stark contrast to your dark bedroom, a lingering cool fills the empty space beside you. 

You glance at this lack, seeing disheveled sheets and you rub the sleep from your eyes to recount the events of the night that led you to such a deep slumber. Almost instantly, you are reminded of your short session with Aaron from the night before. He had you screaming to the top of your lungs with how nastily he was devouring your pussy, and you came twice, from just his mouth and his fingers. 

Now you lay here alone as he seemingly freshened up, his last words of the night filling your mind. 

“Imma let you rest, but we’re not done, princess.” 

As his return to your bed took longer than you thought it would, you reached to your bedside table to turn on your lamp. In the dim glow of the golden light, you tap the middle of your phone screen to be met with your favorite picture of yourself. Once blue light pushed through the space surrounding your small device, you navigated to the control center to adjust your brightness before you looked at the time. 1:33. 

Shuffling sounds echo through the bathroom and then, the light switch clicks off. Soon the gorgeous statue of a man that you called yours was stepping back into the room and a smile played at your lips. 

“Hi beautiful.” His tone is husky due to him catching some z’s right beside you, and heat rises in your face at the sound. 

“Hi, Papa.” A hum strums from the depth of his throat as he looks at your naked body, barely shielded by the covers that you’ve since pushed off of you. You take this time to examine his body as well, your eyes traveling down his honey-toned athletic build. Following his v-cut and happy trail your eyes navigate all the way down to the black fabric of his Calvin Klein briefs. Sooo fine.

Aaron watches your eyes as they trail back up to his, and a grin tugs at the edge of his lips. 

“Like what you see, princess?” He already knew the answer to that.

“Yes.”

“Then come here.” You quickly process your prompted movements, and your feet carry you out of bed and in front of his tall frame. One of his hands reaches down for yours, and brings it to his peck, his warmth undeniably comforting yet taunting to your core. 

He guides his hand to all the places your eyes just scanned, and then he glares into your eyes with those threatening leo orbs. 

“Below the waist is off limits, understand?” Your eyes damn near glow with the boundary he sets, as you realize you have your own little power over him. A smug grin raises your cheeks, and you bat your pretty eyelashes in his direction.

“Yes, sir.” Sensing the inkling of sass in your silken tone, Aaron bites his lip as he removes his hold on your hand to allow you free reign. Eye contact still strong, you run your hands over his pecks yet again, slower this time, as you let your manicured fingertips graze his nipples just lightly. 

Your palms are heated now, as they run along his nice skin, rippling over his hard abs and up the side of his torso.

Four challenging eyes peer between each other, as you both pondered on what you would do next. As your hands explore the sensitive skin of his neck and then the back of his head, Aaron smiles at you playing one of the only cards you had so soon. But you would learn more of his spots this weekend, you were sure of it.

Him knowing what you would do didn’t change the effect it had on him though, and his breath hitched in his throat as your hands rubbed the nape of his neck in circles. Your other hand palpates his toned abdomen as you hear his stuttered breathing continue. 

Suddenly, his strong hands grasp onto your ass, pulling you into his body with the force at which he squeezes at your flesh. A breathy moan leaves your lips as your eyebrows furrow at the sensation of his firm grip, eyes still connected. Now that he’s handling you just the way you like, Aaron can tell you were more than ready for what he had to give you.

With his hungry, lasting kiss to your full lips, you can feel your nectar easing from your center, and slowly beginning to drip down your thigh. You suck at Aaron’s bottom lip as he moans lightly at the unexpected feeling, allowing you to go on as you pleased. Once you returned to his lips for a passionate lip-lock, he appeased you and raised his hands to deliver a synced smack to both of your ass cheeks. A gasp leaves your lips at the divine sting that met your thick flesh and Aaron looks at you knowingly. 

“Stay right here.” 

His hands leave you cooling against the room’s lax temperature, your patience beginning to run thin as the sting he left radiates still. Soft thuds of his feet against your hardwood floors carry him to your dresser where his bag is still open with easy access to his satin bag of toys. He pulls a thick leather collar from the bag and glances over to your nightstand to see that he left the matching wrist cuffs near your bed. 

You watch intently as he takes his time to gather his toys for you, your body on fire from head to toe at the thought of him touching you again. You nearly reach for your pearl to soothe its throbbing but you remember your rule, and your hands tremble with anticipation. Your mind is simply no help, as you try and predict what else will happen tonight, visions of where else Aaron hasn’t touched yet flash behind your eyes. A gloss sets over your sight, and your breath grows short in your waiting. 

Aaron places the collar over his hand momentarily as he walks over to you with the leather cuffs, quickly unbuckling them to make way for your empty wrists. Just as your head begins to lighten, your breathing grows slow and shallow. Recognizing the gloss of your eyes, he realizes that you have begun floating off into subspace and he reaches his hand to your face to bring you right back down.

“Not yet, baby. Look at me.” His thumb caresses your cheek as your searching eyes meet his, focusing on his intense glare. His eyes drop to your lips momentarily, and then he grabs both of your hands and places them in front of your belly.

“I need you to breathe, three seconds in, three seconds out. Let me hear you.” Your shoulders rise and fall gently as you bring air in through your nose. One…two…three. And then exhale. One…two…three. 

Once he witnesses you take three steady, deep breaths, he starts to wrap the cuffs around one wrist at a time, mindful of the tightness of the first one so that the restraint would be balanced. After both cuffs are on, he glanced his softened eyes into yours, as he opened the collar and put it around your neck. As he puts the end of the strap through the buckle, he leans down and kisses your cheek, and then, he speaks.

“Tell me when to stop.” Slowly but surely, he pulls the strap further through the buckle, and you can feel the pressure on your throat heighten. Your breath gets caught on the second to last notch of the strap, and your fingers press into the leather that is cuffed around your wrists.

“Stop.” You whimper, alerting Aaron of which hole to feed the buckle through. He pulls the strap from the buckle just slightly, and feeds the prong through the third to last hole, ensuring your comfort and then, he reaches a hand up to your face yet again.

Another light thumb to your plush skin sends feather light tingles to your temple, and your eyes flutter in levity. 

“Your hands stay above your head unless I tell you to move, do you understand me?” 

“Yes, sir.”

With that, he takes his hand from your face, and hooks his forefinger around the chain of your cuffs, pushing you backward until you bump into your bed. Unyielding, he pushes you further until your legs give way to the firm mattress and you fall back into the plush bedding atop it. 

Almost instantly, you obey his instruction and move your restricted hands to the space above your head, watching for what Aaron had in store. His sure hands lift your legs slightly, bending them on either side of your hips as he sees the glistening treasure between your plump thighs. He sends a lick over his full bottom lip, remembering how he lapped you up just hours ago. Though he wasn’t going to make the mistake of getting too wrapped up in the indulgence that seeped from your yearning, he did want a taste. 

Bringing a finger to the trail of your essence that dripped down your thigh, he collected just a small sample, bringing it to his tongue to savor. A moan left his lips at the sweet, natural taste and he could feel his dick growing in his briefs. 

“You taste so fucking good, baby.” He teasingly sucked the rest of you from his own skin, and then he stepped back, taking in the sight of your bare body, all prepped and exposed for his pleasure. 

“Hmm.” He hums in observation of the natural lubrication that dripped from you still.

“You know what I learned about you, yesterday?”

Aaron’s deep English accent taunts you ever-so-lightly. A burning deep in your core doesn’t allow you to look away from him as he stands at the edge of your bed, hands at his sides. Cool air circulates around your heated, throbbing clit, clinging to the slick that has eased from your opening.

His shadowed eyes turn an oceanic blue as he steps forward and sets a knee beside your body, leaning down just slightly. You see his hand go for your sensitive folds and your eyes begin to flutter closed at the thought of him touching you. Feeling you up, inside and out, rubbing your climax out of you.

A moan leaves your lips as you feel the heat radiating from his palm and just as you exhale the deep breath that previously filled your lungs, you realize that he isn’t even touching you. Your glossy brown eyes open to meet the deliberate man before them as your fingers grip onto the leather cuffs along your wrists. Fuck. 

Aaron’s eyes are low with desire as he watches you squirm against your bedding at just the thought of contact. A pointed grin of his closed lips matched with his shadowy orbs made his gaze so tantalizing. And he knew it.

“Mhm.” He hums cockily, moving his hand from where it was still hovering over you. Getting back off of your bed, he steps back to view you clearer, glazed over eyes planning his next moves.

“You like when I play in this pretty pussy, huh?” In small, delicate touches, his knuckles caress your thighs menacingly close to your quivering sensitivity, causing a whimpering breath to leave your lips. No words could come to the surface of your mind as you held on to the last pieces of it you had left. 

He liked to see you this way; barely able to grasp a thought, let alone speak it. It was the whole point of his plan: to fuck you senseless in every sense of the word.

Determined to continue, he moved his hands from your body for a moment, and walked around the side of your bed. A large hand reached to the dangling handle of the leash attached to your collar, and held it loosely as he crouched down beside you. You weren’t sure of what was next, so you just looked in front of you, waiting for some direction.

“Look at me, princess.” 

You turn your head toward him willfully, your lowered eyes trailing from his large lips to the windows of his soul. Every inch of him was so beautiful it was hard for you to keep focus. 

With a taut, yet intentional hold on your leash, Aaron pulls you closer to him, until you are both just hairs away from the other’s lips. He leans in as if he is about to kiss you, but his mouth just sits atop yours in a way that would be awkward if you weren’t already so desperate to feel the contact.

“You didn’t answer me, baby-girl. And I don’t like repeating myself.” He breaths against you, as he tugs on your collar. As you lick over your lips, you breathe him in through your nose. 

“Yes.”

“Yes, what, baby? I need to hear you say it.” Though you are too close to him to see his full smile, you can feel his lips raise against yours and you shiver at his control.

“Yes, I like when you play in this pretty pussy, Papa.” Aaron takes a deep breath, as he bites his lip at the sight of yours. Plump, perfectly two-toned, ready for him.

“Good girl.” His free hand guides your chin down so that he can kiss you properly, a short, triumphant battle of his lips against yours. Then, his hand trails down your neck, brushes past one of your nipples and lovingly caresses your belly before it lands below your hips at the spot you needed him most.

Lax, only for a moment on his overarching teasing session, Aaron strokes your clit with his middle and ring fingers, effectively tending to the ache you had begun to feel. A certain pulling, needing, yearning begins at your core, and though he had just started, you could feel your climax rolling in quick.

“Oh, shit.” You moan, your chest heaving up and down as the pleasure is fast-tracked through every vein, in every limb of your body. As Aaron continues stroking his thick fingers through your enhanced moisture, your eyebrows turn upward at the overwhelm, your thighs snapping shut instinctively.

He didn’t miss a beat of anything your body was saying. His intent glare left the space between your thighs, which was covered now, to meet your pretty little love-face. 

“I need you to open your legs, baby.” He coached you gently, being sure to keep his cool. It was clear between the two of you that this was your first time exploring a relationship like this and he didn’t want to punish you until you knew exactly what you were doing, and the consequences that your actions came with.

Panting breaths sound from your lips as you try to gather yourself, opening your legs in slow motion. The feeling of his fingers still on your pussy was enough to make you cum right now, but you stay as composed as you possibly can, wanting to hear him tell you that you could.

His fingers begin to circle your clit yet again, and this time you breathe deeply through this feeling, your back naturally arching as he took you all the way to your oblivion. Strategically, Aaron begins to let go of the leash, kissing down your chest and swirling his warm tongue along the sensitive skin as you try to keep it together. Your eyes roll back as full, melodic moans fly from your mouth at his efforts. Nothing has ever felt as good as his hands and tongue on you. Nothing.

“Oh my Goddd…” You call out, your body beginning to convulse with your imminent waterfall. Just as quickly as you had made it to the edge, Aaron’s soft voice was threatening you to step back from it.

“Mnh, mnh. You better not cum, hold that shit Y/N.” As he stopped his tender hand from stroking against your folds, you let out a weary breath. Slow, torturous kisses played at your breast that was closest to his lips, and as he laid his flat tongue against your nipple, you bit at your bottom lip. That motherfucker. 

“Hm’my God, Papa.” You purr, a moan lacing your lips as he begins to suck at your plush bosom. Feeling your pulsating clit along his fingers, Aaron lightens his hand on you, teasing an airy finger along the silhouette of your plump pussy lips. Popping your boob out of his mouth, he looks into your eyes with nothing but desire. 

“Mmh,” He gravels in his low rasp. “You ready for this dick, princess?” 

You nod your head quickly, though you know he wants words, but when you open your lips to answer, all you can give is a trembling moan. With a dark laugh, his large fingers are back at your clit, rubbing you to your end. A drawn out moan fills the air around you as you close your eyes, taking in the continued dopamine hit. 

Like clockwork, your body begins chasing that zenith that you were told not to go towards, and your hips grind into the fingers of the man pleasing you. The extra friction with his steadily moving fingers causes you to turn your head to the side, hiding your blissful face with your arm. This time, even with every whimper and every fractal of breath, Aaron continues to caress your burning core, watching your torso as your lungs expand with air, and then contract on your release. 

“That’s right, cum for Papa.” He coaxed, not breaking the rhythm he had as fingers grew stickier with your natural elixir. Once you got your permission, it was like your body pulled from reservoirs and released every ounce you could muster. Your legs trembled as you cried out for more? Less? You didn’t really know. Everything was so blurry now, your eyes barely open as you continued to drip your juices all on Aaron’s willing hand. 

His hand coated in your clear honey now, he stroked your clit a few more times, and then, he stood from where he had crouched beside your bed. Looking down at just how spent you were, he gives you a moment of breath as he walks around your mattress, making sure to grab a pillow as he makes his way to meet your hips. 

Silently, he sat the pillow beside you, and used his free hand to hook a thumb into the side of his briefs. He pushed the dark fabric off of his hips slowly and stepped out of them when they circled his feet, letting his thick, long shaft make its introduction to the room. Just as you caught your breath, he brought his slick covered hand to his girth, stroking his dick with the lubrication of your essence.

With a soft, breathy moan at the sensation against his rock hard growth, he continued readying himself for what he was about to do. When your eyes finally flutter open after processing such a steep climax, you are met with the view of him stroking himself zealously. He had to be about 8 inches…maybe more? Definitely more.

“Oh, fuck.” You curse yourself for being so ready for it earlier. For a moment he makes note of your reaction, and a faint grin tugs at his lips as he watches your eyes follow his hand up and down his length. He frees his hand to handle you just a bit, turning you to your side so that he can position your pillow underneath your hips to match the height of his, his muscles flexing with the movement.

Once you are positioned perfectly for his intention, he steps closer to you and lays his warm shaft along your abdomen. A breath hitches in your throat at his size in comparison to you, and you tense just slightly though you are curious, and needy. A bad combination.

“No need to be nervous, baby-girl. You know I’m gonna take good care of you.” His hands trail up to your thighs, rubbing his thumbs along the plump flesh in an attempt to pull you back in. Aaron’s eyes soften as he watches your body calm under his touch, and he can’t help but bite his lip at the delight he felt in being able to do that for you. Creating and calming your storms.

“Use that safeword if you need to.” His voice is velvety in its depth, assuring you that he would only take tonight as far you wanted it to go. With lowered, adoring eyes, you nod your head as your center yearns to feel him now.

“Yes, sir.” You nearly whisper. A deep breath raises Aaron’s shoulders as he keeps his mind together despite the sounds you make for him. On his exhale, he trails his heavy hands up your thighs to meet the bend of your legs, holding you in place for the unforeseeable night. 

Acute breaths sing through your lips as you await Aaron’s penetration. Angling himself at your wet entrance, he pushes forward, feeling your warmth envelop him until the give of your walls becomes unyielding. 

“Ugh, fuck.” He moans heartily, a jump in his stomach alerting him of the effects of your juicy, wet pussy. 

The pressure of him begging at a depth you hadn’t had in too long causes a certain levity to reach your legs and they begin trembling in his hold as you groan at the feeling. He just stays there though, stroking half of his length into your tightness, his dark eyes gazing at the way your slick covered his dick. 

“So tight around me, baby.” He breathes out, his chest rising and falling slowly as he regulates himself, seeking a slower pace than what his body was agreeing to. Your wetness sounds around his thick shaft, his soft thrusts readying you for even more of his length. 

As soon as you feel like you can take more, you try to control your moans so you can request what you need in your nicest voice possible.

“Deeper, Papa.” A moan follows your demand, and then your pussy squelches around his lovely thickness. “Please.” 

Hesitantly, Aaron takes in your body’s reaction to him, and as he sees the true bliss your body is in, he fulfills your request, slowly though. As he goes just an inch or so deeper, he watches as you release a throaty moan, loving how he felt inside you. A couple more inches, a couple more pants at how he is filling you up so easily. And then as he gives you all of him, you clench your teeth over your bottom lip, your eyebrows upturned as you muffle a groan at the pressure.

He strokes slowly, trying to allow you to get used to him, but as he sees your face relax again, and your hips begin to rock into him just a little, he goes a bit faster. The heightened speed with his gentle, deep strokes was enough to have your eyes rolling to the back of your head yet again. The little pinch of pain at his size was driving you just a little wild.

“Ahhh, mmh.” You cried out, a moan reaching your lips as tears welled in your eyes at the many different sensations of the night. Aaron was steady breathing hard at the intensity of your tightness clamping around him, huffing out a husky moan here and there. He was definitely enjoying himself, but your soft cries had him worried he was going too deep too quickly. The last thing either of you needed was for him to damage something.

“Tell me how it feels, baby.” He squeezes at your thighs for stability as he feels a telling levity in his core. A silken moan is all you can muster at first, and then you look ahead of you at his piercing gaze.

“Mm, hurts…so good, Papa.” As if your words gave him permission to feel the full extent of his pleasure, his shoulders drop as he feels himself twitch within your walls. His plump pink lips part to release a hearty, drawn out moan and he continues stroking to your continued gratification.

“Ohh, shit.” He can only keep it together for a couple more steady strokes, then he gets a little sloppy as expletives fall from his lips in an attempt to hold on just a little more. Aaron could tell that it’s only a couple minutes, if that, until he releases his load, so he brings a thumb to your clit, rubbing softly to get you right where he is. 

You squirm at the added pleasure, and soon, those tears that were glossing your eyes overflowed onto your temples as you threw your head back. 

“Fuckkk!” You scream out, your eyebrows furrowed as Aaron digs every bit of this orgasm out of you. Every last stroke is accentuated with each of your breathy, succinct moans and his abdomen expands as he watches his honey-tan dick get coated in your glorious juices, and his trimmed pubic hair is decorated in the musky luster. 

“Papa…” Your whisper is hoarse, as an uncontrollable wave of emotions comes over you. Your whole body moves in tandem with the breath that dances through your body, and then it exits through your lips, shakily. 

“Go’ head and let it go, baby. I won’t stop until I get all of it.” Your chest warms at the accented vowels in his speech, and you heed his instruction, focusing on nothing else but him and your nut. Rendered speechless from the snug feeling of his thick shaft between your wetness, you begin to shake, your hips bucking forward as pure energy shoots through you.

“That’s it princess, give it to me.” Aaron coos, rubbing his thumbs in circles along your tender skin. Another breath in is all it takes for your love to come down, sticking to both of you like glue. 

Unable to contain himself, Aaron shoots his warm load into you, his groans loud and gruff. He thrusts forward a few more times as he empties himself, made even more sensitive by your continued whimpering. When he finally pulls out, the combined evidence of both of your pleasure eases out of your opening, causing you to moan softly. 

Breathing heavily as he gathers himself, he takes a moment to walk into your on-suite bathroom and begin a bath for you, using your Dr. Teals Lavender soap. 

You lie there, the distant noise of the running water hitting the ceramic of the tub, lulling you to a calm space. You were already exhausted, and your legs were beginning to throb lightly at how long you’d had them in the same position. 

Aaron walked back into your bedroom with a purposeful stride, stopping at the side of your bed to tend to your obvious needs. He takes the connecting chain between your leather cuffs and pulls you to sit up gently, undoing the collar first and setting it on the bedside table behind him. Then, he gives you a soft once over before he focuses on the small straps on your wrists, unbuckling them as quick as possible and setting them on the bedside table as well. 

He sits down beside you and brings both hands to your face, wiping away the wet streams of tears that fell. Quietly, he places a soft-hearted kiss on both of your cheeks and then on your lips, his gentleness bringing a whole other level of comfort to your mind. As you pull away from the kiss, you wrap your weakened arms around his neck, and he nestles his face in yours as he litters your skin with barely-there kisses. His large hands expand across your back, and he rubs them along your skin, lovingly. 

“You were such a good girl for me, baby.” He tilts his chin down to kiss your shoulder and you move your hands down to caress his shoulders and back, to which he hums in satisfaction. Eager, passionate kisses are delivered from his lips to yours as you rub his back, realizing that you had indeed found another spot of his.

“You’ ready for your bath?” He asks against your lips. You nod your head slowly, giving him a last peck until you are lifted in his strong hold. With a sigh of happiness in reminiscence of the whole night, you lay your head on his shoulder as you get ready to be taken care of by your gentle, dominant giant.

• • •

I do not condone any translations, replications or plagiarisms of my original work. Please do not repost as your own. Reblogs and comments/notes welcome. ♥︎

• • •

༓TAGLIST༓

@userthatlovessmut32 @blyffe @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy

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[abbyscoins]

something overwhelming, something everlasting

pairing: abby x fem!reader

content & warnings: WLF Abby, unintentional trespasser reader turned WLF, canon violence, slow burn romance, angst, fluff, no use of y/n, no reader description, character death, smut (18+) (to be updated)

men + minors dni

summary: after months of fending for yourself along with your companion, you end up in the middle of a brutal attack, leaving you alone, helpless and bleeding out. you just about accepted your fate, until a group showed up, and the next thing you knew, you were hurtling towards a medical tent being carried in a pair of strong arms. in the midst of navigating a whole new life, things seem to be taking a while to work themselves out...

chapter rundown: gore typical of tlou, panic attacks, reader in discomfort basically the whole chapter sorry... we're getting set up here!

chapter summary: you don't remember much from the attack. just faint images, yelling, and eventually being rushed around and hooked up to machines. sometimes parts come back to you, but mostly you're trying to shove the memory as far away from your consciousness as possible. this place in seattle had taken you in, without much friendly reception, but you were appreciative, nonetheless. settling in was more difficult than you would have liked.

word count: 3.25k

Chapter One: A tough time settling in

It wasn’t until you had slammed the door shut, thrown your pack down, and fallen onto your bed that you started bawling. Big, breathy sobs coming in quick succession from deep in your core, the afternoon of tension finally spilling over and releasing itself from your body. Rain tapped heavily on your window, mimicking the hot tears running down your face, almost mocking your state as you laid back, face screwed up in unbridled discomfort.

You hadn’t felt this upset or anxious in days. Things had been getting better here in Seattle, or so you’d tried to convince yourself. Once you had received your work assignment, you had been befriended by another member of kitchen staff, Polly, albeit quite intensely. She was nearing elderly, strands of greying dark curls sprouting wildly from her scalp, mother-like in her tendency to coddle, and she took you under her wing.

‘That poor lost lamb,’ she had muttered to herself under her breath when she first saw you timidly shuffle in through those squeaky double doors of the mess hall.

‘Hey, you there!’ She scurried over.

‘C’mere. Lemme get a good look at ya,’ She had taken you by the shoulders and pulled you gently round so that the fluorescents were lighting your sullen features. You hadn’t quite known how to react, not enjoying being touched, tense and weary, but something about her demeanour seemed so harmless that you couldn’t protest. Not that you would’ve, back then – you were too overwhelmed to say one word out of line for the first few weeks– only mumbling in short, direct answers when spoken to.

‘There, now,’ She squinted her hazel eyes, crowsfeet deepening, appraising you. Your eyes went wide with confusion, darting from hers to the door, back to her, then to the floor, highly uncomfortable.

‘Yep, just as I thought!’ She beamed with pride, letting go of you and reaching into the pocket of her apron. She pulled out a tape measure, but as she went to touch you again, she noticed you flinch. She paused, seemingly collecting herself with a short, chesty laugh.

‘Ah, sorry, darlin’… Ol’ Polly’s always getting ahead of herself. I’m not gonna hurt ya. Just seein’ what— or who I’m workin’ with.’  You found it odd, but she was not exactly off-putting. You thought it weird she needed to analyse you just because you were working together, she’d have plenty of time to see you during meal prep hours over the next however many months. You assumed the tape measure was for your uniform. She most likely didn’t know that the lady who told you of your assignment also brought you a pile of ill-fitting work clothes. Plain black t-shirts and baggy cargos, some hairnets and caps, as well as a few stained aprons adorned with varying degrees of obnoxious patterns.

‘It’s okay,’ you offered, attempting a small smile, gently stepping back a pace and wrapping your arms around yourself, feeling vulnerable. She perked up again, returning your gesture with a gummy smile of her own.

Since then, you had gotten used to her forwardness. As days, and then weeks went by, you warmed up to her unusual personality. She loosely reminded you of someone, someone you’d rather not think too deeply about for fear of cracking straight down the middle, but the vague resemblance in temperament lingered in the back of your mind. She was attentive in your training, insisting on being the one to guide you in most things, praising you when you did well, and then tutting fondly at your mistakes before snapping the directions at you one more time.

One afternoon, after the lunch rush, you had been collecting and stacking dirty trays by the basins when Polly called you over.

‘C’mere, duck. Got somethin’ for ya,’ She reached into her apron pocket and produced a set of tiny hairclips in three different shades of blue.

‘Noticed ya hair gets in ya face after a long shift. Thought these might be of use to ya,’ She handed the row of clips to you. You looked closer at them.

‘Thank you, Polly. These are… really cute,’ You smiled at her. You knew you would wear them when she would be around to see, heart warmed just to have been thought of, but they were not exactly something you would usually choose to wear. You felt a pang of something painful in your chest. Having someone take care of you again – notice things about you, as small as wisps of hair getting in your eyes – it was a strange feeling. You thanked her again, tucking the clips into your apron pocket and patting the indent where they lay, smiling softly. You were touched by the sentiment, and hopeful that you were taking steps towards feeling more like yourself, again.

‘So, Polly definitely made you her new little project, huh?’

‘…Excuse me?’ you questioned, immediately uncomfortable with the sudden interaction at the dining table. It was your day off, and you didn’t usually eat in the mess hall; you preferred to take your meal away to a quiet spot outside and eat in peace. But today, you had decided to sit at a table indoors.

It was raining out, and you had been feeling like isolating maybe wasn’t the best way to move forward here. So, even if you didn’t talk to anyone, sitting in the busy hall would make you feel closer to being part of a community. Despite your desire to just wrap your food in a napkin and take it up to your room, you took a breath and sat a little way down from another group of people, eating and chatting loudly amongst themselves.

The man who accosted you looked vaguely familiar, you thought he was one of the men who brought you here. Scanning a quick look over at his friends confirmed this memory, noticing the tall man with dark features who had helped lift you from the roadside, smirking at the two of you in amusement.

‘Let the newbie eat her burrito, man,’ He chuckled, an accent lacing his words.

The girl was also there. Your heart made an irregular beat when your eyes landed on her; she had an intriguing physicality that made you want to stare. Her face had a young essence, soft eyebrows knitted together in a seemingly permanent scowl of concentration, her light eyes cast down, a soft pout playing on her lips as she scooped up another spoonful of rice and beans. Yes – her face looked sweet – almost innocent in certain lighting. However, she was impressively built, significantly more muscular than most of the men sat around her. Her frame was broad, intimidating, her grey tank top hanging onto her rounded shoulders, like the silks on a Greek marble statue. You recognised her dirty blonde hair pulled back into a neat braid that fell down her back.

She felt you staring, a burning sensation on her skin, and she looked up at you, unsmiling, curious. You quickly looked away, realising you had spent too long appraising her. You chided yourself in your mind. You recalled, then, her imposing figure towering over you, backlit by white sky, her braid falling over her shoulder, expression contorted with an emotion you couldn’t pinpoint, overcome with dizziness from the blood loss.

‘Y’know,’ The man closest beside you started again, chewing obnoxiously as he spoke, gesturing to you with an outstretched hand. He reached over to lightly tap at the clip in your hair with a finger. ‘Her pet. Her newest plaything—’

‘Jordan, knock it off.’ The girl spoke lowly, not looking at you, but rolling her eyes at the man. He put his hands up in defence.

‘I’m just sayin’, Abby. That lady always does this with the newcomers. Always! Her weird little trinkets, I’m telling you,’

‘No one cares about your conspiracy theories, man.’ The guy with the accent responded, nudging the girl in jest, earning no response from her.

‘What’s got you all stone-faced, Abs?’ He questioned, less enthusiastic now, feigning offence at her not joining him in his teasing.

‘Nothing. You guys are just driving me crazy today.’ She mumbled, sighing and rolling her shoulders, then turning her focus back to her plate. The dark-featured man shrugged off her attitude and continued eating, himself.

No more was said to you, the group seemingly forgetting your existence at the table with rapid speed. All except one, the girl they called Abby, who spared a couple of quick glances over at you during the next ten minutes while you cowered in your seat. You took pathetic little bites of your food, having lost your appetite, as well as any yearning you may have been accumulating for human interaction. This wasn’t like you. For something so juvenile to affect you like this. But you were exhausted. You were hurting. All the suffering over the last few weeks, not just the mourning, but being the new girl somewhere again. It was all too much; you could never have predicted things would go this way.

You began to feel overwhelmed, and a pressure began building in your chest. You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t want to cry or panic in front of so many people. So, you sat, ridged, breathing heavily for a moment, staring down at your hands. A couple of people sitting closest to you hushed, noticing your change in breathing and started looking at you. This caught on quickly.

You heard the girl’s voice mutter, ‘Manny,’ as she elbowed the man next to her, his billowing laugh subsiding as he followed Abby’s concerned gaze. He frowned for a moment.

‘Qué pasa, cariño? You okay?’ He asked, an edge of genuine worry in his voice. You looked up at him, eyes wide, hands clammy and shaking as you rushed a nod and stood up. You clumsily grabbed your tray and pack, throwing your food in the trash as you speed-walked out of the cafeteria and through the halls to the stairs, tears already threatening to escape.

You refused until you were in the confines of your room, only then would you cry.

The next morning, your eyes stung as you slowly came into consciousness, distant sounds of birds chirping indicating the early hour. You rubbed your eyes, sighing deeply and stretching your stiff limbs out, star-fishing as wide as was possible in your cramped bunk. You slept surprisingly well, the day before having knocked you into the deepest sleep you’d managed to get in a long time. Usually, your sleep was light, restless, peppered with bad dreams. You’ve had a few night terrors since being here; the same dream in all of them.

You’re crouched behind a moss-ridden brick wall, shallow breaths coming quick, panic setting in. You catch their glinting eyes from across the opening, their expression mirroring the same bewilderment as your own. You had both heard the whistle, both seen the three of them bounding in through the gap in the fence, bows loaded, intense eyes transfixed in your direction. Shit. You weren’t sure what was going on, brain fuzzy with exhaustion – when you had reached this part of town, you’d began seeing some strange things that made you think better of settling down here to rest – but if you were tired, then God knows how your best friend felt.

Their death was always different. Whether they got shot through the eye, smashed in the skull with a hammer, one time they even got their neck broken, the light leaving their eyes as you gasped and wailed. Whichever way it was, they always died – brutally – and you were left, slumped down, blood blooming through your t-shirt around the arrow in your abdomen, watching, helpless.

You wake before the gunshots commence. Always before – if they were ever even going to come — completely alone.

You screamed yourself awake from those ones, soaked in sweat, tears streaming down your face, breathless. Oddly enough, those nightmares always come when you’re more relaxed before you sleep; your subconscious punishing you for momentarily letting the guilt subside to just slightly less than unbearable.

Despite your decent rest last night, your body still felt tired. However, crying yourself to sleep was strangely cathartic, and your heart felt lighter, today. You sat yourself up on your elbows, looking around your small room. Sunlight trickled in through the cracked blinds, casting shadows over the hardwood floors. You knew that people gossiped about how you ended up with your own room. Most people have to share a bigger room, but your nightmares were disturbing enough that your first roommate had complained so much about not getting enough sleep for training within the first week, that you were begrudgingly moved to a newly empty single unit. Apparently, it had belonged to a soldier who had recently, and unfortunately, met their fate against a ‘Scar’, as they called them, out on patrol.

‘Everyone gets nightmares. Who does she think she is? The queen of fuckin’ England? I’ve been here years, and I haven’t gotten half the privilege she has.’

Issac didn’t often react kindly to stragglers, so most people hadn’t the faintest idea why he was being so lenient, nor why the group of patrollers who found you had taken such pity on you, enough to haul you back across town to the medics and have them fix you up. You remember the faintest fragments of conversation while you were in and out of consciousness, lying up against the concrete, hand weakly holding the arrow piercing through you… A woman and a man arguing, one of the other men telling them to stop, a crash, and then the next thing you knew you were in a truck. Throttling around, sprawled across the laps of a couple of them, being held still as to not further injure yourself in your haze.

The gossip never really bothered you much; you had more dire issues to occupy your mind with. You swung your legs over the side of the bed and checked the time on your alarm clock: 7:35. You stood, making your way over to the kitchenette, stretching as you went. You decided you were going to grab some water, get changed and then head down to the mess hall. You had one more day off today; they had kept you on early shifts for a streak of days last week, which meant a 3AM call time to start making breakfast for the crews headed out early. That would have been fine, had you not had to cover your sick coworker’s lunch shifts, too. So, you were scheduled a couple days off to compensate.

It was bustling when you got down there, everyone clambering in line ready for their breakfast. You took one look at the crowd and turned right back around. Breakfast could wait. It’s served until 9:30 anyways, and you weren’t in the mood to be around that many people yet. Instead, you made your way to the gym. Running was your favourite way to release all the frustration that built up inside you. It reminded you that you have a functioning body, lungs that work, limbs that move, and that you’re grateful for it. Bitter about every other aspect of this life, but grateful to move freely through it, nonetheless. You preferred using the track – the fresh air always stinging so sweetly in your lungs as you made your laps – but you had to make do with the treadmill today, given the recent spell of bad weather flooding the track grounds.

The gym was quiet, most people having already gotten their early workout in before breakfast. You put your canteen down, stepping onto the treadmill, immediately frowning at the buttons in front of you. You cursed the rain for forcing you to face your technological ignorance head-on. You fiddled with the settings, thinking you set it up right, but the button to start the machine wasn’t working when you pressed it. You repeatedly slammed on the button, face contorted into a frustrated scowl, sighing deeply.

‘Might help if you actually turned the thing on,’ A smooth voice startled you from behind. You jumped and turned to see her – Abby – with a faint, teasing smirk on her face as she made her way around the machine. She placed a steady hand right next to yours on the treadmill for support as she leaned down and flicked a switch on the underside of the panel. The machine whirred to life. Her finger brushed yours as she pulled herself back up, and the soft touch sent an unexpected shiver through you. ‘Gotta conserve power, and all that. They ask that you keep things off when you’re not using ‘em.’

‘Oh… right, uh, thanks,’ You managed to say, your cheeks heating up. You were mentally facepalming as she nodded a you’re welcome, a slight mischief playing on her face as if she wanted to tease you for being incompetent, but not knowing you well enough to do so, for fear of coming across as rude or upsetting you. ‘Yeah, as you can tell I don’t usually come in here.’ You admit, looking away. Her presence was intense, keeping eye contact for too long would only make your blush worsen.

‘Hey, it’s all good. Everyone starts somewhere, right? If you tossed me an apron and told me to scrounge up a meal for hundreds of people, I’d be lost,’ She offered a small smile, and you let out a chuckle in response, looking her in the eye again for a moment and holding her stare. An awkward silence fell over you both.

‘You having a good workout?’ You asked, scanning the rest of the gym again, for the first time observing the different contraptions set up around the place. The frown returned to your face imagining trying to use any of it. Abby breathed heavily out of her nose in amusement at your expression.

‘Yeah, I’m just about done,’ She instinctively squeezed her arm around the bicep, briefly massaging the muscle. Your eyes wandered to her hand. There was a sheen to her skin where she had been sweating, her pale freckled shoulders out again, just like yesterday. You tried not to stare. Another beat of silence.

‘Look – I’m… I’m sorry you’ve been having a tough time settling in,’ She paused, seemingly having trouble knowing the right words to say to you. You shot your eyes back up to her face, surprised. The blush returned momentarily to your cheeks.

‘Noticed that, huh?’ You quipped, playing with your hands.

‘Well, I mean – yeah. Just… you know. I feel bad that you’re struggling.’ She seemed uncomfortable, unused to showing her sympathetic nature.

‘Thanks, Abby… I really appreciate it,’ Surprise briefly took her, like she didn’t know that you knew who she was, shocked to hear her name tumble so perfectly out of your mouth.

‘Yeah, just… if you need anything…’ She trailed off.

‘I’ll be sure to find you if I need any more help with electronics,’ You teased, your heart thrumming behind your chest. She smiled, awkwardly drumming her hands on the rail of the treadmill before pushing herself off and turning to leave.

‘I’ll see you around.’ She threw over her shoulder. You exchanged your goodbyes, turning back to the treadmill controls.

You felt a rush of emotion, warmth flooding through you. You weren’t expecting such a sweet interaction. You felt guilty that you hadn’t expected it from her, preexisting presumptions based on her hard outer shell getting the better of your judgement. Not that you had negative thoughts about her, in fact, it was quite the opposite. But she was quieter than you had expected. More shy, less imposing, an awkward charm lacing her disposition.

Your mind didn’t leave the conversation throughout your entire run, that morning.

© all work on this page belongs to abbyscoins

please do not translate, copy, or repost as your own!

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Movie Week [review]

Day 1 - Fear (1996)

Yandere Score: 8/10

Overall Score: 8/10

Fear does exactly what it's supposed to. Not perfectly by any means, but well enough that I don't mind spending an hour and a half in its world.

A very fun world too - cute fashion, a great score, pleasing cinematography and a male lead who slowly becomes more despicable the longer the film goes on. Alyssa Milano, Mark Wahlberg and Reese Witherspoon look incredible the entire movie. And I guess their acting isn't bad either.

We start off with a man out on a jog. And we know it's going to be a thriller because a) shaky cam and b) very dramatic music just two minutes in. Great start. After that, we're introduced to Nicole (Reese Witherspoon), a high schooler with a slightly strained relationship with her dad and teenage angst lite.

She's cute. The girl next door with a daddy's girl bracelet and a kid brother who loves her. If she didn't have the bad luck of running into a bad man, I'd say things would have worked out just dandy.

But no such luck. Not for you kid.

Enter David.

He walks on screen to audible screams from the audience (me). He's hot. And the way he's introduced is hot. Shady bar, music in the background, leather jacket delinquents playing pool. From the get go, he screams bad boy. Rubbing (read: jerking off) his pool cue - at hip height - while looking at our female lead? C'mon, that's too easy.

I won't go into detail, but they obviously end up in a relationship. And it's hot stuff. At one point, he has his hand up her her skirt while they're on a rollercoaster. Yeah, we all see the symbolism. Coming (down) must be pretty fun on a ride like that, huh Nic?

It's not great the entire movie - their first conversation is stilted and awkward, filled with clichés. But the build up in tension is what does it for me.

There are plenty of little things that tip you off from the get go. David isn't as nice as he seems, not by a long shot.

It starts with a few tense looks between him and Nicole's dad. Just a father being a bit picky, right? Nope. He turns back the office clock so he can have a little more time with Nicole before curfew. He flirts with her best friend. He tells Nicole to, "Get me a coke." Bossy. Commanding.

I'll be honest, if I didn't know the synopsis of the film, I'd say dear old dad was being overly protective. Nope. Those red flags are about as red as they can get.

When things start going off the rails, the movie handles it pretty well. The scenes are decently tense, even though they're missing that little bit of careful handling that would make them terrifying.

As a yandere, David does everything you'd expect. He's manipulative. He's violent. He doesn't know where to draw the line in anything. Oh, and he's hot. Did I mention that already?

He's a Levi's and t-shirt kind of guy, with a great car, a nice voice, and biceps you want to sink your teeth into. When it comes to deranged stalkers, you can do a LOT worse.

The third act is a ball of a time. There's room for it to have been a bit more tense - it suffers from being a little too short, the twists not having enough time to breathe. The pace doesn't feel quick in the so much happening, I'm at the edge of my seat sort of way, but in the oh no, we only have the budget for thirty more minutes of run time sort of way.

Still, it's very enjoyable. David says and does plenty of very yandere things. I'm absolutely stealing some of his lines.

In terms of style, the movie is a knockout. I think it's a big part of what carries my recommendation. The cinematography is really pleasing, with lots of reds and dark greens. Very 'Seattle on a rainy day.' The sound track is totally 90's, with a nice mix of rock, pop and indie. It gives the movie a sense of place and time that exponentially improves the story.

How does it hold up as a piece of yandere media? It doesn't do anything radical or new, but the classics it sticks to are done well enough that it's worth the watch.

Oh, and David is very hot. I don't know if I mentioned that. 

Day 1 - Fear (1996)

Day 2 - Secret Obsession (2019)

Day 3 - Hush (2016)

Day 4 - The Perfect Guy (2015)

Day 5 - The Boy Next Door (2015)

Day 6 - The Invisible Man (2020)

Day 7 - Til Death Do Us Part (2017)

[imstillalexcomic]

Eeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

Folks, it’s time…

…time for the NFL DRAFT!

Ok so, I know, sports, I get it.  Tumblr doesn’t seem to be too big on sports.  When sports has been mentioned with the trans folks I’ve befriended, the term “sportsball” gets tossed around, much like a ball in actual sports.

But guys, gals, and enbies… I love sports.

Now, primarily I’m just a New York Jets fan, something which has led to much sports related misery as we’re the team that has the longest playoff drought across the four major US sports leagues (NFL, MLB, NBA, NHL)… our last playoff game was a loss to the Pittsburgh Steelers in the AFC Championship Game (one game away from the Superbowl) on January 23rd, 2011.

IT'S BEEN A WHILE.

But today, today is the day where that starts to change, for today is the NFL DRAFT.  Today kicks off a three day selection festival where teams will pick incoming collegiate players, filling needs, drafting best player available, or reaching hopelessly for prospects that look good in shorts but otherwise have questionable ability.

It’s basically Christmas for NFL fans; we get to open up new presents for our teams.

Something I used to do back in my Corpse Run Comics days as the Annual Corpse Run Mock Draft.  For the uninitiated, a mock draft is where someone makes predictions on who will be picked and where, and to what teams.

Now, Corpse Run isn’t running anymore, but hey, now there’s I’m Still Alex!

So without further ado, here’s the FIRST ANNUAL I’M STILL ALEX MOCK DRAFT!!

Almost assuredly guaranteed to be wildly incorrect!

Tennessee Titans – Cameron Ward – QB -  Miami

Cleveland Browns – Travis Hunter – CB/WR – Colorado

New York Giants – Abdul Carter – OLB – Penn State

New England Patriots – Armand Membou – OT – Missouri

Jacksonville Jaguars – Mason Graham – DT – Michigan

Las Vegas Raiders – Will Campbell – OT – LSU

New York Jets – Kelvin Banks – OT/G - Texas

Carolina Panthers – Jalon Walker – OLB – Georgia

New Orleans Saints – Tetaiora McMillan – WR – Arizona

Chicago Bears – Ashton Jeanty – RB – Boise State

San Francisco 49ers – Kenneth Grant – DT – Michigan

Dallas Cowboys – Matthew Golden – WR – Texas

Miami Dolphins – Grey Zabel – OT/G – North Dakota State

Indianapolis Colts – Tyler Warren – TE – Penn State

Atlanta Falcons – Shemar Stewart – DE – Texas A&M

Arizona Cardinals – Will Johnson – CB – Michigan

Cincinnati Bengals – Malaki Starks – S – Georgia

Seattle Seahawks – Colston Loveland – TE – Michigan

Tampa Bay Buccaneers – Jahdae Barron – CB – Texas

Denver Broncos – Omarion Hampton – RB – North Carolina

Pittsburgh Steelers – Derrick Harmon – DT – Oregon

Los Angeles Chargers – Emeka Egbuka – WR – Ohio State

Green Bay Packers – Walter Nolen – DT – Ole Miss

Minnesota Vikings – Nick Emmanwori – S – South Carolina

Houston Texans – Josh Simmons – OT – Ohio State

Los Angeles Rams – Mason Taylor – TE – LSU

Baltimore Ravens – Shavon Revel Jr. – CB – East Carolina

Detroit Lions – Donovan Jackson – OG – Ohio State

Washington Commanders – Donovan Ezeiruaklu – EDGE – Boston College

Buffalo Bills – Trey Amos – CB – Ole Miss

Kansas City Chiefs – Josh Conerly Jr. – OT – Oregon

TRADE – Philadelphia Eagles trade pick to New Orleans Saints - Jackson Dart – QB – Ole Miss

[totheblood]

i still hear you. (prologue)

PAIRING: post tlou2!ellie williams x reader

SUMMARY: ellie stumbles upon your self-run town after her life is destroyed, except there's more to this town then what meets the eye. and it seems like there is more to you too.

WARNINGS: 18+ mentions of death, grief, related subjects; cursing, mentions of drinking/drugs, mentions of s*x

A/N: i've been working on this one for a while... i hope you enjoy! please send asks, reblog, and reply to this post <;3

WORD COUNT: 3k

"i still hear you laughing, but only for a minute"

Spring couldn’t come fast enough for Ellie. 

The cold still nipped at the exposed skin on her hands, ghosting the phantom limbs of the two fingers she was now missing. Everything was cold. The tip of her nose, her ears, and most importantly her heart. As she wandered aimlessly, unsure of where to go, she knew there was one place she couldn’t go: home. 

Jackson was no longer a place for her. Joel was gone, Tommy thought she was weak, and Dina…Well, Dina wanted nothing to do with her. Dina had a lot she could blame Ellie for before Ellie left, but she never did. She stayed. And now, on top of all of that, Ellie had left one of the few people in her life who cared enough about her to stay. Spring could come tomorrow but it would forever be winter inside her. 

She didn’t know where she was going, but she knew she was going west. She couldn’t handle the harsh winters of the East Coast, and Wyoming stopped feeling like home before she left for Seattle. She thought about staying on the farm and living out whatever short life she was going to have there, but staying in that home painted with memories of “what ifs” would drive her crazy. 

So she packed enough supplies to last her a few months if she hunted her food and headed to the West Coast. The first few days were silent, she only encountered a few infected and found shelter in abandoned buildings. She lived off of expired food she found in vending machines in old universities and occasionally sang herself to sleep. 

On her tenth day, she found a car that lasted her about 2 days. Once it broke down, she just kept walking. Over abandoned highways and thick forests, she just kept walking. On day 17, she reached California and stumbled upon an eerily similar set of walls. It looked just like the gates at Jackson, except these were concrete and better built. They were much higher, and the gates almost looked… automatic. 

Ellie was hesitant. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but she definitely wasn’t looking for another hometown to destroy. She approached the large walls cautiously, with her hands up and slowly. As she walked closer she was screaming, “I come in peace,” over and over again. She was almost 50 feet near the gate when she heard a girl's voice shout, “Don’t come any closer.”

She stopped in her tracks as the automatic gates began to open. Ellie expected an army of people with guns blazing, just how it was when she first arrived at Jackson, but when the gates opened there just stood you, grounded in all your glory, and a gun aimed right at her face. She wanted to laugh, but that just seemed sexist. 

Instead, you pressed forward, unwavering, with your gun aimed right at her. She didn’t step backward, or even breathe, she just stood there until you were close enough to her to make out all the freckles on her face and the slit in her eyebrow. 

“Who are you?” you spat at her.

“Ellie,” she breathed out, her hands faltering a bit. 

With your hand firmly wrapped around the cold metal of the gun, you inched forward again, pulling back the slide, a metallic click echoing in the silence. The gun was loaded, and you were letting Ellie know that you weren’t afraid to shoot. Her hands stiffened again. 

“What are you doing here?” Your tone was tough and the look on your face was enough to send Ellie running for the hills, but it also made her want to crack a smile. Your nose scrunched up as you spoke, and your lips were somehow not chapped in this weather. But Ellie didn’t smile, she was sure if she did you would put one right between her eyes. That much she was sure of.

“I-” Ellie hadn’t thought this far. What was she doing here? “I’m just looking for a place to stay.” 

Your eyebrows creased as you gave her a once over, looking for any sign she was trouble. It was in your nature to search for danger, but she wasn’t raising any red flags. Except the fact that she made it here alone and unscathed, and was missing two fingers. 

“What happened to your hand?” you asked, tipping the gun slightly to her hand. A pained expression crossed her face, it was almost like she forgot that two of her fingers were quite literally bitten off, but that fight was somewhere shoved deep inside her mind. It wasn’t something she wanted to remember.

“Lost them in a fight,” she replied simply, there was no point in telling the full story. It’s not like you had the time. 

“You can’t stay here if you’re going to be trouble,” finally you put the gun down, resting your hands on your hips, giving her a firm look. Ellie would hand it to you, you were absolutely scary. In her mind, she knew she could take you, but she also wasn’t so sure of that.  

“I’m,” she sighed, lowering her hands slowly, “I’m done with that. I won’t be trouble,” and for the first time in Ellie’s life, she meant that. She was ready to start over. She knew the fighter in her would always be there, itching to come out but she had been fighting her whole life. It was time to give up. She had already lost everything. Or so she thought. 

Your face softened slightly before firming up again, your empathy peeking through like it always did. You looked her over again, sighing, as you signaled for someone at the gate to come. A man with short blonde hair trotted over, a leash in his hand. He looked kind as he offered a smile to Ellie.

“Old girl here is just gonna check to make sure you’re not infected,” he smiled, dropping the leash. Ellie’s heart rate picked up again as she watched the German Shepherd approach her slowly, sniffing around her as it circled her. You stood behind the blonde guy with your arms crossed across your chest. The dog found nothing and returned to the man, sitting down next to him, “Looks like you’re all clear!”

“Welcome to Mono City,” you deadpanned, rolling your eyes as you turned back towards the gate, walking in that direction. You were halfway there when you realized Ellie wasn’t moving. Turning on your heel again you stared at her, hand on your hip again. You had an attitude, Ellie thought, cute. “You coming or what?”

The small town sat on a large lake, glistening as the sun's rays bounced off the surface. Buildings were built close together, trees without leaves scattered on the walkway, and about a hundred people out on the street as she trailed behind you, earning dirty looks from half of them. Ellie scowled back. Ellie smiled when you introduced yourself to her, telling her your name and a few key details about yourself. She learned you served as some sort of mayor here, keeping everything in order, and that you were the person that people came to. She would be lying if she said that didn’t intimidate her. But all Ellie did was give you her name again and tell you that she was from Jackson, anything else she said would fall short. 

“How are you with your hands?” you asked, voice flat and simple. Ellie choked on her words, stuttering a response. 

“I’m, well,” she coughed, “I’m just okay with them now, since,” she shrugged gesturing to what she now called her ‘bad hand’, “you know.”

A wave of guilt crossed your face as you composed yourself, somehow already forgetting your previous interaction. You shook your head solemnly, cursing quietly under your breath as you stopped. 

“Shit,” you turned to her, eyes squeezed shut, “sorry, I’m so used to asking the same questions, I didn’t even think.”

“It’s fine don’t worry about it,” she gave a tight-lipped smile. Now, with the illumination of the buildings, she could see your whole face. You were pretty, that she was sure of, but it was a more down-to-earth pretty. A type of pretty that you had to take in. You had scars around your face, and a pretty big scar down the side of your neck. It almost looked like the one Ellie had on her arm. But still, scars and all, you were just nice to look at. 

“Well, just for that reason we probably won’t have you be on guard duty,” you stated, eyes flicking around her face, “do you have any other strengths?”

“Uhm,” Ellie had to think for a minute. She had never really been asked anything like this before. What were her strengths? Did she have any at all? She used to be good at guitar, but now she couldn’t play, and that probably wouldn’t be useful at all to anyone here. She was good at art still, something she couldn’t take for granted anymore. It was all she had. The scratched-out drawings of Dina, JJ, Jesse, and Joel were stuffed deep into her bag.

“I’m good at art,” she shrugged, “and writing, maybe.”

“Okay,” you smiled, showing off your teeth, making her warm a bit, “that we can work with. Maybe you can teach at the school.”

“You have a school here?” Ellie gawked. Jackson had a school but it was small and had maybe two or three teachers. 

“Yeah,” you turned to keep walking, making Ellie stumble behind you to keep up, “we have three. An elementary, middle, and high school.”

“Wow,” Ellie was in awe, “It’s not like a military school or anything?” 

“No,” you answered quickly, your voice tight, “It’s not like any of that shit. We don’t fuck with FEDRA here.”

Ellie would be lying if she said that wasn’t music to her ears.

“It’s just like a normal school except we teach a lot more practical things. Things we can use like, cooking, science, and English. Like reading or writing. Since you’re new you will probably start with the elementary school. We also have little extracurriculars and we’ve wanted to introduce art but haven’t been able to find anyone yet.”

“Oh, cool,” was all Ellie said as you both stumbled on what looked like a residential street. There were rows of houses, all that looked the same. There was a road, with cars parked on them and driveways with gates. Most of the houses looked about two stories tall, some had toys lying in the front yards and a few animals were roaming about, small cats and dogs. The porches had furniture on them, little couches and chairs, and as she walked she noticed some people outside with mugs in their hands as if they were drinking their morning coffee. The town looked like something she saw out of a movie, only something she could dream about. Her eyes were wide in awe as you rambled on about something but Ellie was honestly too entranced in everything. Here, in the middle of nowhere was a whole town of people living their lives, as if nothing had ever happened to them. 

“Ellie?” you stopped in your tracks, crossing your arms over your chest. There was your attitude again, “are you even listening?”

“Y-yeah, I am. It’s just-”

“A lot, I know,” you sighed, “but you gotta listen, there are a lot of rules here. Rules that make this place function and if you don’t follow them, you could easily be kicked out.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, genuinely meaning it, “I’m listening, promise.”

“It’s fine,” you gave her a fake smile, turning to push open a gate to a nice house, “This will be your place.”

“Uhm,” Ellie stopped, not entering the front yard, “what do you mean ‘my place’? This is far too big for me.”

“This is the only size our houses come in,” you replied matter-of-factly, “you can just say thank you.”

Ellie blinked as she looked up at the blue house, that looked like it was built yesterday. It had a wrap-around porch and two white columns right by the entrance. The door was a giant white door with a gold handle. This was nicer than any house she’s ever been in, and way too big for one girl.  

“Thank you,” Ellie replied, still awe-struck, “this is just so nice.”

“You’re welcome,” you smiled, fishing around in your bag for something. You pulled out a pair of keys, and handed them to her, “Here’s your house keys. You don’t get a car quite yet, that’s something you have to work your way up to, but there is a bike in the garage. Spring is around the corner so it will get warmer and you should have your car by next winter so don’t worry too much. My house is right across the block, but I’m usually in the City Center if you need me.”

She wrapped her right hand around the keys, tightening them in her palm. She watched as you searched through your bag again and pulled out a little device. 

“This is your walkie,” you took a deep breath, “Try to find me before using it. It’s usually only used for emergencies so just be mindful of that. I’ll be by tomorrow to take you to work, so you have time to get settled in today. Okay?”

“Okay,” Ellie smiled, her voice sounding a little bit breathless.

That night Ellie settled into her new home. Well, she tried to settle into her new home but kept shifting around in every seat and couch, like she couldn’t find something to get comfortable on. She examined every part of the house, picking the smallest room for herself and shoving her backpack in the closet. She took a bath for the first time in months, washing all the dirt and grime off of her. Left in the shower was a bar of soap that looked like it had been handmade and unused. It smelled so good she almost took a bite, but instead chose to use it how it was meant to be used.

As the sun began to set she stepped outside, watching the activity on the block and smiling to herself. Everything just seemed so normal, but with the state of this world this town was certainly abnormal. From her window she could see you in your front yard, feeding a pack of cats that slipped through your white picket fence. She smiled to herself as she watched one rub against your leg, and your gentle hand coming down to pet it. She continued to watch as kids passed your house, waving to you and running back to their homes. 

The next few days were uneventful. Ellie found herself getting used to teaching young kids, always laughing when they asked about her missing fingers. It was out of her comfort zone, but she was around JJ enough to know what kids liked. Her voice always got so high-pitched when she spoke to them, and they liked being chased around the room. On her fifth day of working, a kid ran in screaming, “Miss Ellie! Miss Ellie!” with a chicken scratch drawing of his family. He was so proud that all Ellie could say was “Good job, bud!” and ruffle his hair. He left with the biggest smile on his face.

But now, Ellie found herself at the city’s most popular bar, with the other teachers who wanted to congratulate her on her first week. Della, who invited Ellie out in the first place, made a toast to her, clinking her glass with Ellie’s and taking a long swig of her drink. Ellie took a sip of hers too and fuck, this shit was strong. 

She felt human again, laughing with people her age in a bar and old music playing. She was almost having a good time until a song came on that reminded her of Joel. It was like her whole demeanor changed and everyone could tell. She excused herself from the group finding a small corner to sit on and finish the rest of her drink, hoping maybe it would make her forget everything. But then, the bell at the front door rang making Ellie look up to see who had entered. 

There you were in all your glory, tight shirt on and hair completely loose. It almost looked as if you were wearing makeup. Ellie must’ve been staring too long because she blinked and you were standing in front of her. 

“See you got yourself a drink,” you laughed, voice making Ellie’s cheeks turn pink. She was… really drunk.

“Yeah, I could get you one too,” she slurred a bit, goofy smile spread across her face. She watched as something odd crossed your face and now she was worried she said something wrong, “I just mean, like.. you know… I mean like as a thank you.”

“Right,” you sighed.

“For my mansion, you know,” she shrugged and you giggled. You giggled and it went straight to her head. What was she doing?

“You haven’t been paid yet,” you smiled back at her, now moving to sit down, “and it’s okay, I don’t drink unless it’s a special occasion.”

“What? Meeting me is not special enough,” she teased, knocking her shoulder with yours. Her eyes scanned your face, your smile reaching your eyes as you giggled again. Her stomach sank again. She wasn’t so sure if this was just the alcohol anymore, she felt like she was 12 and crushing on Riley again. 

“No, it’s special,” you reassured, “Maybe, I’ll drink when you decide to stay.”

“Who said I’m not staying?” she questioned sitting up.

“Some people don’t,” you shrugged, smile fading. Ellie’s brain wanted to make it better, make you laugh again, or shit do anything to put the smile back on your face. 

“Well, I’m gonna,” she said gently, so only you could hear her, “I need to get my paycheck.”

You laughed and Ellie breathed a sigh of relief, laughing with you. 

“I’ll get that to you,” you smiled, “and we don’t use paychecks.”

“What’re you gonna pay me with?” she smirked, “I know some other ways you can pay me.” Then the same look from earlier crossed your face and she cursed quietly to herself, muttering an apology. 

“No, no,” you said, like you were about to let her down gently, “I just try not to get… involved with anyone since…” your voice trailed off.

“Since?” Ellie questioned, but as you opened your mouth to speak the group from earlier made their way over, noticing your arrival and screaming your name. She watched as you got up, hugged everyone and started chatting with them, leaving her with her drink and too many questions. 

There was one thing that scared her though. She knew you needed someone who could stay, and the only thing she was good at was leaving.

[goldenempyrean]

I'm Better With You

〚 Notes - First Addison fic so I'm just testing the waters here, Ill likely write for her in the future so feel free to send requests for her :)〛

〚 Pairing - Addison Montgomery x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - You find Addison sitting in the rain after a rough surgery. You take it upon yourself to make sure she's cared for 〛

〚 Wordcount - 6,040 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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“What on earth are doing standing out here in the rain like that?” The sound of your shocked voice made Addison jump out of her thoughts from the bench she had been sitting on. A bench was completely unsheltered for the pouring Seattle rain. “You’re completely and utterly soaked! You’ve gotta get back inside and dry off.” 

Addison blinked up at you through the mist of rain dripping from her soaked red hair, a distant look in her eyes. "I needed some air.” She mumbled weakly, her eyes not quite meeting your own. 

You shook your head softly, taking off your coat and pulled it over her shoulders, “There’s getting air and then there’s sitting in a downpour. You’ll catch your death out here.” Your hand reached down to hers and gently tugged, letting her know it was time to get up, “Come back inside.” 

Addison seemed to hesitate for a short second as your hand tugged gently at hers, her body shivering as the cold rain continued to soak through her clothes. For a moment, it seemed like she might refuse, but then her shoulders slumped, and she finally let herself be pulled to her feet. 

“I wasn’t thinking properly.” She murmured, voice low as the two of you stood in the doorway, the heat from inside the building seeped out and she already felt a little warmer. “I just.. I needed to get out of there.”  

You couldn’t stop your face switching from one of concern to sympathy. You’d heard from an intern that she’d been in the OR for the last few hours and if her demeanour was anything to go by, it hadn’t gone well, “It’s okay, just breathe. You’re okay but next time you need to get some fresh air, maybe try a beneath a shelter?” 

You reached up to reposition your coat which had slipped off her shoulders a little, “Or were you purposely going for the ‘recently drowned’ look?” The joke made her smile a little, a small smile but a smile nonetheless and you took the chance to kiss her cheek before taking her back inside. 

Once inside, Addison finally realised how cold she actually was. Shivers ran over her arms as goosebumps rippled over her skin. She pulled your coat on tighter as she mumbled, “Thanks for bringing me in.” 

“You don’t have to thank me Addie,” You smiled and ran your hand through her soaked hair, “Do you have anymore things you need to do today? I finish in an hour then we can both head home and cosy up?” You offered, knowing what Addison needed after days like this was a hot bath, some good food and cuddles. 

Her eyes flicked up to meet yours for a brief second before she nodded, though she didn’t say anything right away. She looked drained, her usual composed expression cracked around the edges. She sighed and let her shoulders slump before finally speaking, “Home sounds good, I’m done for today.”  

“I thought so, I’ll be out by 7 at the very latest. I’ll meet you back home?”  

You watched with a small, sympathetic frown as you watch Addison shuffle towards her office. She looked exhausted, you knew how taxing a long surgery could be but you know how crushing it was to spend hours in the OR only for it to end badly. Addison especially was one to feel the loss personally, she’d never show it to anyone.  

Addison always held herself to impossibly high standards, and when something went wrong, she shouldered the blame alone. She’d put on a brave face and comfort others while simultaneously desperately trying to hold herself together just long enough until she was finally alone. Then she’d let it all out - feeling guilty for what went wrong, running the situation again and again in her head in an attempt to see if she could’ve done something more.  

The rest of your shift seemed to drag, as if time itself was crawling forward with no regard for how desperately you wanted to get home. Final rounds felt like they took more time, the corridors seemed longer somehow and the hands of the clock refused to move. You knew it was all in your head but that didn’t make it any better.  

Eventually though, the seconds ticked by and it was finally time for you to leave.  No time was wasted as you gathered your stuff and headed out the doors. You’d decided it would be worth changing out of your scrubs before you left but you had forgotten to get your coat back off Addie and only had a thin jacket to keep your warm. It was still raining, a little heavier and you jogged beneath the dark clouds to your car. Luckily you didn’t get too wet, just enough to dampen your clothes and hair. 

Thankfully the drive home wasn’t too long. The rhythmic pattering on rain on the metal roof provided a nice background as you drove through the streets. There was a little traffic, nothing terrible and you were soon pulling into your driveway. 

As you parked up, the rain fell down in relentless sheets, you dreaded stepping out into it but the knowledge you’d be welcomed to the feeling of warmth and your wife was amazing. A sudden bright flash caught your attentive followed by a loud, angry clap of thunder, “Oh great.” You found yourself mumbling and made a mental note to bring the bins in. Last time there’d been a storm you had to go on a 15-minute search to try and find your wheelie bins which had been blown away. 

“No point delaying the inevitable.” You said to yourself, and swung the car door open. Instantly you were battered with rain and grimaced as you ran to grab the bins from the end of the drive and dragged them up to be sheltered beside your porch.  The relief that washed over you as you felt the pouring rain ease off as you stepped beneath the roof was amazing. You were definitely going to need a shower later but first... 

“Hey I’m home.” Your voice called out into the house as you stepped inside, you shook off the rain and left your wet shoes at the door. You shrugged out of your wet jacket, letting it hang on the hook near the door, and called out again, "Addie?" 

The house was still quiet, the subtle hum of the heating was the only thing keeping it from silence. You hummed softly to yourself as you headed further inside. You glanced up towards the living room and felt your shoulders relax as flickering lights reflecting from inside. The soft glow of an orange lamp made you feel a little better as you rounded the corner and looked around. You could recognise those red curls anywhere. Addison was currently curled up on the sofa and it wasn’t until you got closer that you realised, she still had your coat draped over her. Her hair was still damp but not as soaked as earlier and you could see that she was staring blankly at the television, though it didn’t seem like she was actually watching anything. 

“Hey, you,” You murmured softly as you knelt down to be at her level, running your hand gently through her hair. She was a little colder than you would’ve liked and now that you looked closely, her skin was still dappled with goosebumps. 

Addison blinked slowly as if emerging from a fog, her red-rimmed eyes finally meeting yours. Her lips curved into a small, weak smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "You're home," she said, her voice hoarse, as though she’d been on the verge of tears or had already shed them when she thought no one would see. 

You smiled softly and came to sit beside her, warmth pooling in your stomach when she sat up and leant her body against you, the coat falling to the floor as she moved, “Yes, I’m home and you, my love, are freezing.” You mumbled as she involuntarily shivered, “What do you say to having a nice warm bath? I’ll run it all nice for you, I’ll even let you use my bubble bath.” 

She leaned into your further before taking a deep breath and exhaling with a small sigh, “A bath sounds nice.” She sniffled quietly after a moment, nodding as you helped her to sit up again. 

“Come on then darling.”  Your hand extended to take her own as you gently pulled her to her feet. She shuffled close beneath you as you nudged her in the direction of the bathroom, you heard her yawn widely and excused herself quietly as she followed you which made a small smile tug at the corners of your lips. She was always adorable when she was tired. 

Once inside the bathroom, you turned on the faucet, letting the water run until it was the perfect temperature. You added a generous amount of your favourite bubble bath (it smelled of strawberries) watching as the cloudy-like suds began to bubble up. Addison had been sitting in your bedroom as you got everything ready. As you put a fluffy, dark grey towel onto the heated rack, you heard the sound of small footsteps behind you. Looking in the mirror, you could see Addison hovering at the doorframe, a pair of your plaid pyjamas' in her hands.  

You chuckled quietly and turned around to meet her eyes, “You stealing from me now, is that what this is?” You smiled and expected her to give a small chuckle in return but what you didn’t expect was for her face to crumble up, her bottom lip quivering as tears began to spill from her eyes. Small tears turned to sobs within moments and your eyes were wide with guilt as she broke. 

“Baby- no- I'm so sorry-” Your apology began spilling from your lips as you rushed to comfort her, pulling her into a hug as she sobbed into your hold, “I didn’t mean to upset you love, I’m so sorry.” You rambled as you tried to console her, unsure if it was actually you that pushed her over the edge of the events from the day finally breaking her down. 

“I’m sorry,” Addison choked out between sobs, her fingers clutching your shirt as if you might disappear if she let go. “I didn’t mean to... I didn’t... I just—” 

“Shh, it’s okay, you don’t have to apologize.” You rocked her gently, holding her tighter. “You’ve been through a lot today. You don’t have to hold it together all the time, Addie.” 

She continued to cry, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she tried to get the words out. “I... I tried so hard... hours... we were so close... but—” She didn’t need to finish the sentence. You knew what she meant.  

The two of you held each other on the floor of your bathroom for almost half an hour, no words were spoken apart from the occasional shushing along with occasional hiccups and Addison tried to catch her breath. Once she’d seemed to be a little more stable you spoke up. 

“Addie, listen to me,” You spoke gently, pulling back just enough to tilt her chin up so she was looking at you. Her eyes were swollen, red from crying, and her bottom lip trembled. “You gave it everything. There’s nothing more you could’ve done. You’re human. Sometimes... sometimes we lose people, and it’s not fair, but that doesn’t mean it’s your fault.” 

She looked at you, her expression broken, and for a moment, you thought she might argue, but instead, she let out another shaky breath and buried her face in your chest again. You could feel her body gradually relaxing in your arms, the storm of emotions slowly subsiding, but the exhaustion was evident. She’d already been tired to begin with and this had taken away any reserves of energy she had. 

"Let’s get you in the bath, okay?" You suggested gently after a few minutes, rubbing her back as her sobs turned to quiet sniffles. 

She nodded, wiping her eyes as she cleared her throat, “You too?” Her voice was quiet but hopeful as she looked at you and then towards the water. It was clear what she wanted and you couldn’t hold back a small smile as you agreed. 

“Of course my love, let me just grab a towel.”  

When you returned, Addison let you get in first. The warm water felt amazing on every part of your body. You hadn’t really registered how tired you were yourself until then, too busy focusing on your wife and how she was. The bubbles made the room smell amazing and you breathed deeply as Addison slowly climbed in. Her body relaxed against yours, her head falling back to rest on your chest as your arms came to wrap around her. You couldn’t resist planting a small kiss to her red hair as she thanked you for getting everything ready for her. 

After washing her hair and body, the minutes flowed by, you felt her relaxing more and more. Her previously tense shoulders dropped as she allowed the water to surround her, the burdens of the day slowly melting away as she let her eyes occasionally flutter closed. It wasn’t until she closed them and didn’t open them for several minutes that you decided it would be probably best to get out. The water had started to cool anyway and was better to get out now rather than risk her becoming cold again. 

“You think its time to get out now, hm?” You nudged her gently to stir her awake from whatever day-dream she’d been in, “We’ll get you into those pj’s and I’ll make us some dinner, yeah?” 

“Dinner sounds good.” 

After helping Addison out of the bath, you wrapped her in the soft, fluffy towel, making sure to dry her off gently. Her skin was warm now, a marked improvement from earlier, though you could still see the weariness in her eyes. She took the pyjamas from earlier and held them out to you, offering them back. You took them from her hands and smiled at her, silently handing them back to her with a gentle nudge. She slipped them on and looked completely and utterly adorable. 

Once she was dressed, you handed her a brush, offering to untangle the wet knots in her hair. Addison nodded silently and turned, her back to you as she sat on the bed while you carefully worked through the red strands. The rhythmic strokes of the brush seemed to calm her. You took your time, letting her find peace in the simple, repetitive motion. 

“What are you in the mood to eat baby?” Setting the brush aside, you leaned down to kiss the top of her forehead. 

She hummed quietly, thinking for a moment, “Pasta?” The redhead asked hopefully after a moment, “The one you make with that really good sauce.” 

You knew exactly which she meant. “Pasta it is then. Are you going to just relax in here for a bit or come back and sit in the living room?” 

She sniffled, and cleared her throat as she followed you into the kitchen, instead of heading to the living room like you’d presumed she would, instead she followed you into the kitchen. She shuffled herself onto one of the small stools tucked into the island and watched you curiously as you began to take out ingredients for your pasta sauce. 

“Live cooking show?” You questioned with a smile, filling a pan of water and setting it to boil. You’d cooked the recipe hundreds of times. First you salted the pasta water and added a generous helping of fusilli. It was the best pasta for the recipe, not to mention your favourite. 

Addison continued to watch as you cooked, shuffling occasionally as she trying to get a better view of what you were doing. Addie wasn’t a bad cook herself, though she tended to lean more towards making sweet treats and cakes rather than hearty meals. Still, it was a passion you both shared and it wasn’t unusual to see the two of you cooking together. It was something which brought you closer and you cherished the time together. 

It was why you’d been able to slowly notice Addie becoming less and less engaged as time grew on. Her eyes were occasionally dropping closed and her posture seemed to slump. “Nearly done love.” You commented as she crossed her arms and fought back a shiver, “You getting cold again?” You sighed softly as you turned the simmering sauce down to a low heat. 

She shrugged, “A little.” 

You hummed and set the spoon you’d being using to periodically stir before you chuckled, "If I come back to my kitchen burning down, you’re taking the blame.” Before quickly heading to the bedroom, grabbing your fluffy blue robe which had been hanging on the door and jogged back to her. 

“Here, darling,” You smiled, handing it out to her which she gratefully pulled it around her shoulders, sinking into the warm fabric. It was a good robe, heavy and comforting and she continued to wear it as you finished plating up your pasta. 

It was delicious and hit the spot Addison twirled a forkful of fusilli, taking small bites in silence. She still looked worn, her eyes tired, but she stilled managed to eat the majority of it before she smiled gratefully and pushed her plate forward. 

“Thank you love.” She murmured as you took her plate and put it in the sink. Addison was a firm believer in “I cook, you clean” but you weren’t having any of it, insisting it was completely fine and you would take care of all the mess. You’d already done the majority of it, making an effort to clean up as you went along, all there was left was the dishes.  

There was no time wasted as you quickly cleaned up. Wiping down the surfaces and putting away the freshly washed dishes. Addison remained seated; her eyes heavy with exhaustion but following your every motion with a quiet appreciation. Every now and then, she sipped from her glass of water, her body curled up inside your fluffy robe. 

When you finally finished, you turned to her with a warm smile, walking over to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "All done, love. Now, I think it’s time we head to bed." 

She didn’t object and the pair of you headed back to the bedroom, crawling under the soft sheets and getting snuggled without each other's arms. Her body pressed against yours. It didn’t take long for her breathing to even out as she got comfortable within your hold, her red hair was still a little damp but you didn’t have the heart to wake her up just for the sake of drying it properly. 

Eventually you couldn’t avoid the pull of sleep for much longer, you let your mind wander off as you drifted into a soft, much welcomed sleep. 

*^*^* 

If only the two of you could’ve stayed asleep forever, curled up in a peaceful trance. Unfortunately your morning alarm had other ideas and blared off into the silent room, shaking the pair of you out of your slumber. 

You groaned quietly as you rolled over, whacking you hand at the loud, beeping phone on your nightstand in an attempt to quell its yelling. It didn’t work, instead you just ended up slapping your hand on the wooden table. You groaned again. Sitting up properly this time, you turned off the alarm and swung your legs over the side of the bed. 

Padding into the bathroom, you splashed some water on your face, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you thought back to the night before. Noticing the unusual silence from your wife, you leaned back to look into the room, shaking your head fondly when she saw she was still curled up beneath the sheets. Her red hair poking out from within. 

There was no harm in letting her sleep in a little longer. You always liked to set your alarms 15 minutes earlier than necessary to give yourself some extra leeway in the mornings. However, even after you’d brushed your teeth, tied back your hair and done some light makeup, there was still no sign of Addison getting herself up. 

You sighed softly and finished up in the bathroom before coming back and kneeling at the side of the bed. She had her head buried in a pillow. You smiled to yourself, enjoying the sight for a moment. With a gentle touch, you reached to stray red curls from her forehead before gently shaking her shoulder. "Addie, time to wake up," You murmured quietly as she stirred. 

She let out a quiet groan, burying her face deeper into the pillow. "Five more minutes..." she mumbled, you were expecting her usual slightly thicker morning voice, maybe even her grumpy voice. However instead what you heard was congested and thick. A sick Addie voice. 

"Addie," You repeated, your brows furrowing a little as you heard her voice, "Oh , you don’t sound great, baby. You okay?”  

She sniffled and nodded, “I’m fine.” 

“You dont sound-” 

“I said I’m fine Y/N.” 

Her stubbornness was nothing new, especially when it came to work. Addison had always been driven—almost to a fault. It was one of the things you loved about her, but right now, it was frustrating. She shifted under the covers, sitting up slowly, wincing as she did. You could see the exhaustion weighing on her, dark circles under her eyes. Honestly you shouldn’t had been so surprised she woke up like this. She’d been thoroughly soaked yesterday, completely sending her body temperature out of whack. She’d never reacted well to changes like that and her defences were down, of course she’d been an easy victim for the first bug to come her way. 

She was moving slower than usual, clearly feeling the effects of whatever was working its way through her body. You didn't even need to press a hand to her forehead to know she was running a slight fever; the pale tint to her cheeks, the slight sheen of sweat on her skin, and the way she kept sniffling were all clear signs. 

“Addie, love, you can just get back in bed sweetheart.” You murmured, following behind as she headed into the bathroom, “I’ll tell work that you’re out of commission for today. They’ll understand.” 

She gave you a pointed look and closed the bathroom door. Well. Clearly getting back into bed was out of the question. There wasn’t much you could do right now apart from getting yourself ready, you’d try again once she was finished in the bathroom. 

Getting dressed; you had been pulling on your shirt when you heard her sneeze three times in moderately quick succession. You couldn’t help but shake your head sympathetically. Usually, Addie would change into her scrubs at work like you did so you set out a relatively cosy outfit for her to wear, setting the folded clothes on the end of the bed. 

You were just gathering up your things when Addison emerged from the bathroom looking just as pale as before, with a slight flush to her cheeks that matched the pallor of her hair. She’d wrapped her hair into a messy bun, though some strands had already fallen loose, and her eyes were puffy from congestion. 

She eyed the clothes you’d set out for her, biting the bottom her lip before picking them up and beginning to change. Addison could feel your eyes watching her as she changed, not in the flirty way she’d prefer but in the worried, concerned way she’d rather ignore. 

The silent tension got the better of her however and the redhead shot you a look, part stubbornness, part exhaustion. “I’ll be fine, Y/N,” She mumbled through her hoarse voice. She sniffled damply, rubbing at her nose as she grabbed her work bag. “I can’t just stay home. I’ve got back-to-back surgeries and I’m meant to be on call tonight.” 

“Someone can always cover you.” You murmured in return but you knew it would hardly convince her. There was no point trying to change her mind, it would only end with her getting frustrated and that was the last thing you wanted.  

She’d turned away your offer of breakfast but you’d manage to talk her into at least taking a smoothie with her. By the time you’d poured it into her cup it was time to set off so pushing aside your reluctance, you offered to drive her there. The idea of letting a very likely feverish Addie behind the wheel of a 2-tonne vehicle wasn’t overly appealing. 

The storm hadn’t relented much overnight, the sky was dark and overcast, rain drizzling down as you drove to work. You occasionally stole quick glances at your wife in the passenger seat, she was slumped in her seat a little and staring out the window. You were 99% sure she was leaning her forehead against it. The sound of Addison shuffling in her seat caught your attention, your eyes cast over in time to watch as she rubbed at her nose, her expression shifting whatever itch she was trying to stave off failed and moments later she was stifling a sneeze against the back of her hand. 

“Bless you, Bless you,” You repeated when she repeated the action a few seconds later, only this time she didn’t stifle and let out a small satisfied sound afterwards, “There’s tissues in my bag if you need them.” 

But she simply shook her head and sniffled quietly before letting her head return to its prior position against the cool glass, “I’m fine, thank you.” 

You gave her a sideways glance, but didn't push the issue. When you finally pulled up to the hospital, Addison shifted, unbuckling her seatbelt slowly. You could see the way she winced as she moved, a grimace crossing her face as she grabbed her bag. You wanted to tell her one more time to reconsider—maybe just take the morning off, at least—but before you could speak, she leaned over and kissed your cheek, her lips warm against your skin. 

“I’ll see you later love,” She whispered, her voice already sounding strained, you couldn’t imagine what a day of talking would do to it. 

You nodded, biting back your protests. “Please take it easy, Addie. And if you need me, call, okay?” 

She shut the car door and headed inside – luckily she’d brought a coat this time. When the door closed, you took a moment to gather yourself and let out a deep sigh. Of course you loved Addison, she was just too stubborn for her own good sometimes. She knew it herself and while she made improvements from the past, it was still something she had to work on.  

Grabbing your bag, you headed inside, jogging beneath the room and relishing in the warmth of the hospital as you stepped through the entrance. Changing into your scrubs only took a few minutes and you were finally ready to start your day. It wasn’t exactly easy to focus on your work when you knew for a fact your wife was somewhere in that same hospital feeling miserable and ill but you had to push the thought to the back of your mind as you began doing rounds.  

Every so often you’d try and grab one of the interns she usually had following her round but they seemed to be avoiding you today, always running from one place to the next, looking more stressed out than usual.  

The day hadn’t been too eventful. Originally you weren’t meant to have surgery today but after someone came in with emergency appendicitis, you found yourself in the OR for a few hours - having to correct a clumsy interns mistake. By the time you’d finished, it was already past your shared lunch hour which meant you weren’t able to meet your wife as you usually did, an act (which even though you knew you shouldn’t) made you feel a little guilty. 

You’d had no word from the redhead since she started and it had worried you a little. The first place you checked was her office but you only saw her bag sitting on the desk with no sign she’d been here much today. There was no sign on her in the OR for the afternoon so when Karev had passed you in the corridor, you pulled him aside, “Have you seen Addison lately? I checked the board and she’s not in surgery.” 

He shifted a little uncomfortably and crossed his arms, causing you to change your stance and raise an eyebrow, “Alex, I already know she’s ill. I just want to check on her.” Your voice was soft, revealing a little vulnerability. Luckily this seemed to have worked as he sighed and pointed down the corridor. 

“Last time I saw she was coughing and spluttering over a water fountain.” He shook his head disapprovingly, “I’m presuming you couldn’t convince her to stay home?” 

You matched his gesture, “You know what she’s like.” He agreed and you thanked him for the information before heading in the general direction he pointed you in, of course she was not still by the fountain. You’d just been about to page her when your ears pricked up as you heard the sound of a rough muffled cough. Turning around you made a confused face as you saw there was no-one else in the corridor. Humming, you looked towards the linen closet a few feet away. 

Supposing there was nothing to lose, you walked over and pushed the door open, light flooding into the dark room. You didn’t see anything at first but squinting, you could make out the vague shape of someone of the back of the closet. Switching on the small light, your heart dropped to your knees as you saw those recognisable red curls. Addison was slumped on the floor, her fever-flushed face resting against the rack of sheets. 

“Oh sweetheart,” You murmured in the smallest voice as you closed the door, locking it before kneeling at her side. Raising a hand to her forehead, you brushed away damp strands of hair. Beads of sweat were lining her brow and you sighed as you recognised the undeniable heat of a high fever radiating from her skin. 

It was hard to believe she had been trying to power through her shift like this. Brushing her hair back again, you gently squeezed her shoulder. "Addie, hey sweetie," You murmured softly, trying not to startle her, “Wake up for me beautiful girl.” 

She stirred sluggishly, blinking up at you with glassy eyes. "Mhh?” She mumbled something you couldn’t quite work out and sniffled thickly, hardly having time to wake up before she ducked into her arm with a damp sneeze. It sounded harsh and obviously hurt from the way she winced afterwards. 

After murmuring a bless you and handing her a tissue from the packet you’d slipped into your pocket, you asked, “What are you doing napping in a linen closet baby?” You knew that she could have easily slipped into an on-call room and slept there so it wasn’t hard to work out that her linen-closet nap wasn’t intentional. 

Addison accepted the tissue and rubbed it beneath her red tinged nose, sniffling as she tried to sit up a little, her head still spinning as she blinked against the overhead light. “I just... got dizzy. I needed to sit down for a moment.” It was clear she was out of it, her answer sounding more like a question as she spoke and a few moments later, you were rubbing her back in worriedly as she racked forward with a horrible, harsh cough. 

“You sound terrible baby.” 

She shook her head weakly, clearly trying to muster some strength but failing miserably. "It’s not that bad. She tried to insist. her voice cracking before she broke into another round of painful-sounding coughs. You winced just hearing it. 

“That’s new,” You murmured, concern and worry seeping into your words, “How long have you been coughing like that sweetheart?”  

She seemed to think for a moment and sniffled thickly, coughing again before mumbling “Just a few hours.” Your wife cleared her throat with an agitated sound and let her head fall back against the rack making you bite your lip with worry. 

Without another word, you quickly stood up and grabbed the small digital thermometer from your coat pocket. It wasn’t something you normally carried, but with flu season hitting hard, it had become a necessity around the hospital. Kneeling back beside her, you pressed it against her temple. 

Addison closed her eyes, too exhausted to protest. After a few moments, the thermometer beeped, and your stomach dropped as you read the number. 

“Poor girl, you’re nowhere near well enough to be here. Come on, we’re going home.” Your tone held no room for arguments and well, Addie didn’t really have the energy to be stubborn anymore. She felt too terrible and all she really wanted to do now was to go home and crawl back into bed where she should’ve stayed to begin with. 

Finally, Addison nodded and you wrapped your arm around her waist as you helped her up off the floor. She stumbled and swayed a little so you kept your hold tight as you got her out of the closet, “You still dizzy?” She nodded and walked slowly, the both of you taking your time as you headed down the corridor. Stopping off at her office, you grabbed her bags and coat, wrapping it around her before quickly jogging to your office to grab your things. Changing could wait. All that was important now was getting her home 

You pulled out your phone and sent a quick text to the chief explaining the situation, knowing he’d be sympathic. You slipped your phone back into your pocket, your focus fully returning to Addison. Her breathing was shallow, and every step seemed like an effort, but she leaned into you, grateful for your support. Her body trembled slightly, whether from the fever or exhaustion, you couldn’t be sure. What mattered most now was getting her home, out of the fluorescent hospital lights and away from the sterile walls that she'd been pushing herself to work within for far too long. 

Before long, you were helping Addison back into your car, putting your bags on the backseat before closing the passenger seat down. She was coughing when you slipped into the passenger seat and you instantly reached across to rub her back. She cleared her throat and looked over at you. 

“Thanks for taking care of me.” Her voice sounded so hoarse but you knew exactly what she was saying regardless, “I know I should’ve come home sooner. I’m sorry.” 

You smiled, shushing her softly, “You don’t need to apologise, we’re going home now that’s all that matters. We’ll have you feeling better soon, okay?” 

“I love you.” 

“Love you too sweetheart.” 

As the pair of you drove home, you could see Addison begin to drop off as her head periodically bobbed forwards, her eyes beginning to close on their own accord. 

It wasn’t long before she had fully given into her exhaustion. You couldn’t help but feel relieved now that Addison was finally safely nestled in your passenger seat, her exhausted body leaning fully against the door as she slept against the window, her mouth open a little as small, stuffy snores rose from her. She’d definitely be out of work for the next few days, likely the week so you made a mental note to call at the pharmacy on your way home. It wouldn’t be long before you got her home, ready to tuck her up into bed and dote on her every need. 

Yes, you’d taken care of her last night and you were more than happy to do it all again. 

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New postcards made for @shortrunseattle happening this Saturday! Come on by and grab my latest full color art zine ‘New Level of Love’ along with a few other goodies I’ll have at table 77 next to my comix-allfather- @joshuahallsimmons 💛

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Mrs. Swan 💍| Charlie Swan Headcanon

Twilight masterlist

Being Charlie Swan's wife & Stepmother to Bella would look like:

Bella was roughly 12 years old when going on 13 when you, and Charlie first began dating. Having moved to Forks to get away from the city life of Seattle, you took on a teaching position at the high school where you met Chief Charlie Swan days later at the local diner. He'd recognized you after Cora had pointed you out, saying how you recently moved to town and were the new Arts teacher. Charlie then introduced himself--after working up the courage to--to you and see how you were settling in. 

It really was love at first sight. Charlie was instantly smitten by you, and you were immensely attracted to the man, who you calculated to be about five or so years older than you. After that first conversation you two kept running into each other around town--as expected with how small Forks was. The library, the Safeway, even when pulling up to the drive-thru coffee huts you saw Charlie. Each time was met with a smile and warm greeting. Then the fifth or so time it happened; Charlie made the move to ask you out. "We have to stop meeting like this, Chief Swan." "Well how about we meet on purpose this time. Say....the diner this Friday at six?"

It didn't take long for you to fall head over heels for Charlie. He was funny, charming, and a treat to look at. Your relationship was the intimate love one craves. One filled with gestures and words. Before you moved in with him Charlie would swing by your house before heading into the station to bring you coffee on your way to the school. He'd send flowers to your classroom--which made all the ladies in the front office envious while also finding it sweet. And when you did move in, Charlie would pack your lunch with a wholesome note before he left the house while you still slept. He did the grocery shopping--and he was the type to go off the list to grab goodies he'd think you'd like. 

Charlie is awkward when it comes to PDA and prefers to keep his affection behind closed doors. Plus he's the police chief and has a reputation to uphold. BUT don't be fooled now, this man is a flirt. He loves to sneak up on you with a hug from behind. Nuzzle his head in your neck when cuddling, whispering things that have you blushing. Run his eyes up and down you every time you entered the room. Kiss you in ways that take your breath away. 

Since Bella was young and living in Arizona with her mom, you and Charlie agreed you'd be formally introduced to the girl once your relationship hit one year. Of course, Charlie told Bella about you around your six-month mark, but promised a meeting the following summer. As nervous as you were, Bella reacted quite positive to your relationship with her father and voiced her approval. "You're the first person I've seen him happy with. Just don't break his heart."

Before Bella started requesting to vacation to California in the summer, you would do your best to entertain her during her visits to Charlie. He was always at work and since you out of school for the summer, you guys would go to Port Angeles to shop or leave Forks early in the morning to spend the whole day in Seattle. The first year that four-hour drive was riddled with awkward silence and short conversation. Then in Seattle you'd go the museums and underground tours, have lunch and go to bookstores. Bella always tried to pay for her part with her allowance money but you refused with a, "You save that for when you hang out with your friends--or to buy yourself something later on. This is my treat and don't you worry about anything." It's safe to say Bella was hesitant at first, but relented nonetheless. Not long after you and Bella grew close, and you became someone she'd seek out for advice or to hang out. 

Charlie was very happy as you can expect. Having his girlfriend and daughter like each other was his main concern when he began dating again. It would pain him to fall in love and for the two most important women in his life be at odds. Thankfully, he didn't have to worry about that. Both you and Bella enjoyed reading, cooking, the beach, and old school music. Any time Bella's birthday rolled around you'd send a giftcards to her favorite store. You'd teach her family recipes and bake homemade cookies.

Once you and Charlie hit two years, he asked Bella how'd she feel if he were to propose. "About time, dad." Was all she had to say, and Charlie literally popped the question that weekend at dinner when you three were finishing up at the table. The wedding was perfect. An intimate ceremony with all your close friends and family, held in Port Angeles where y'all then rented out Bella Italia for the reception. Bella was a bridesmaid, but you made sure to not involve her with planning to not overwhelm her--which she appreciated greatly. A young Jacob Black and his sisters were in attendance, which you noted the boy following the girls like a lost puppy.

When Bella moves in with y'all during her junior year, you pretty much do everything to prep her room since Charlie is clueless. He pretty much gives you the money and says, "Go nuts." You stock the kitchen with all her favorite snacks, buy her new bedspread, collect notebooks and binders for school, and have make room in the bathroom for her since you guys only have the one. At school when the rumor spread Chief Swan's daughter was moving back to Forks you were quick to inform your students to make Bella feel at home, otherwise you'd assign them extra homework for the weekend. 

It wasn't long before Bella was asking you and Charlie about the Cullens. While Charlie's knowledge was rather brief, you were able to provide her with a more in-depth opinion of the siblings. "They are all very talented, each in their own way. I have never met a group of siblings whose artwork is so vastly different but almost the same. Alice's sketches remind me of Tim Burton in a way...and Jasper has an eye for oils. Edward often stays behind to discuss art history--which is refreshing since I haven't had someone to talk to about it since leaving Seattle. But they are a quiet bunch. They come to class, do their work, and leave. Which I can't complain--I've never had to send any of them to ISS."

Like Charlie, you were very surprised when Bella announced she was dating the youngest Cullen, but you were much more supportive to the idea. You continued your support even after the Pheonix and Italy disaster because at the end of the day, that's all you could do. Bella was your stepdaughter and you wanted her to be happy, and being with Edward gave her that. But let's just say....he was no longer your favorite student. 

And on their wedding day you sat in the front row with tears in your eyes, passing a tissue to Charlie who took it graciously and kissed your cheek. Watching the little girl you both loved and adored all grown up marrying the love of her life. Charlie thought back to your wedding, taking your hand in his to press a kiss to your knuckle where your ring laid. "Thank you. For loving me and my daughter, Y/n. You breathed me back to life when I thought finding love had passed me." 

[orphicsun]

Tells: E.W. Chapter One.

PAIRING: Seattle!Ellie + Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Angst, details of violence and mentions of death, mentions of PTSD and trauma, themes surrounding death and self-defense, sexual content in future chapters. Read at your own discretion. Note: This chapter is short I know:( I moved a lot to chapter two because this is just supposed to be the basic exposition layout, and future chapters will be longer! ALSO, please comment to be added to the taglist!

LINKS: Series masterlist, teaser, chapter two, chapter three

WC: Approximately 3k

DESCRIPTION: You're desperate and deprived, alone indefinitely. You reside in a dilapidated pharmacy on the outskirts of Seattle with only a growing body count and guilt, and the thought of death never seems to leave. Even in sleep, you hear its sharp whispers. You kill out of necessity, fear it as you commit the sin. Ellie isn't as afraid of death as you are, though; it’s not out of necessity. You'll let her ruin you if it means you have one friend in this world.

The rather bright part of the day brought in light through your blinds, but you could never seem to blink away the red tint hidden within. It followed you like the plague, and it spread to everyone you knew.

The kill count was a large, wooden house that followed you, left vessel-shaped spots in your eyes, and made you blind to the evil of humanity lurking underneath layers of cordyceps and starvation. The oak, soaked with crimson loved to rot from the corners, and you wholeheartedly know that one day, it’ll be nothing but a foundation and you’ll be nothing but what you fight against—your own civilization, or what is left of it. You were a part of that civilization, and you weren't a participant in the ignorant part. You knew that it was only a matter of time before you met the same fat as your ‘enemies.’ Still, you wanted to pretend to do good. 

So selfish is a girl in an apocalypse, camping out in a pharmacy smothered in flourishing vine and moss. The bricks were once laid out by someone who could’ve had a wife and children. Now, it was perverted by you. Structures aren’t the only thing tainted by the world, but also the people whose footprints stay in the mud throughout several seasons of weather, precipitation fading the signs of life but spirits remaining. Everyone is left tattered, and you feel as though your own presence spreads a red tone that isn’t the maroon base of the bricks onto your makeshift shelter. You had a sharp disdain for yourself in every way that mattered, from the splotches on your hands to the dullness of your knife from so many years of use. 

Many would say that in the case of an apocalypse, death is natural. The biological aspect rots the brain and leaves many infected, of course. People also need to defend against others when supplies run low and when disagreements that were once contained by a government are fair game to a bullet in the head for one wrong word. 

You aren’t one to do that, though. You only play God when necessary. Your routine is strung out over the span of years. Killing, scavenging, killing, surviving, killing, defending, killing, hoping, killing.

Acts deemed atrocious in the previous world had the possibility of justification as well. Cannibalism was left unpunished if the one committing it had an appetite for life or death rather than for the forbidden flesh itself, such as the Andes Mountain incident you had read about in an old, stained newspaper from a grocery store. Murder itself is justified, it is self defense, and the list of wrongs that are technically right goes on. 

Anyone could be certain that your baggage carried the same title: simply in the name of survival. You had to kill to keep yourself clothed, fed, simply alive. If that was so true, why did your sins flow through your veins like a sleep suppressant, keeping you red-eyed and tossing all night? You could kill to keep the clothes on your back when winter got bitter and nipped at your ears, but you could never load your pistol, take a life, and get a good night’s sleep from it.

Stab wounds imprinted upon your unconscious mind, festered within it to punish you. You would wake up wishing that you would’ve just let yourself die to the hands of a hostile group or even a stalker, but why give up now?

It could always be worse than a pharmacy. Now, you could pretend like there was still good in you. You could pull the strings on your body and act like your red fingerprint isn’t left on the world, or that your eyes still wished to open each dawn just to see the sun rise with a new beginning. 

If you weren’t so blinded by your own feelings, you’d see that you aren’t of bad morals. You put rolls of gauze in your backpack each time you left to hunt, and you threw it around Seattle in hopes someone in need would find it. You try to make each act of self defense peaceful, as you’d never torture a human life. Everything you do is of a pacifist in a world war. Still, that one particular color lingers. 

Maybe for once, you'll sleep well tonight knowing you tried to revert to the innocence of clean hands and nightmare that were more like fantasies than what you wake up to see. You know better, though.

-

“Where’s your weapon?”

Your cheek burns with a sudden, sharp sting, inflamed and tinted from the unnecessarily aggressive slap gifted to you to force your consciousness. It wasn’t from a hand, though. Your eyes meet the barrel of a pistol and naturally, they widen. They dart up to meet eyes with a forest behind them, but no sign of life. It’s all dead past the natural shine. You haven’t seen your reflection in a long time, but you truly believe that in this moment, the green surrounding the pupils contains less humanity than yours do. 

Eyes are what you use to perceive a person—a first glance into their being. Eyes can show you softness or cruelty in moments like these. The lines imprinted upon the skin surrounding eyes give away age, but often, they are telling of a stressful existence. You travel down to their lips to have an attempt at their mood; in this case, impatient and not hesitant to kill if needed. Then, hair. Hair tells you how long a person has been without proper hygiene. Hair can tell you much about a person’s social life. A person with unwashed hair, most likely great in length, may be more isolated from any type of society or group than one with good hygiene. 

Your first glance at the woman standing above you who rudely broke into your hide-out and threatens you with the end of all means is not one surrounded by love or even kindness; there in her eyes is the blood-curdling but not rare look of a killer. You can sense it anywhere, and just within her expression. Her mouth is set in a thin line, the creases within them still. Her hair looks like it needs a thorough scrub, though it isn’t too long. There is a unique set to her face that cannot be unchecked, but you have bigger fish to fry. Your life is in her hands.

“You can take whatever you want, I promise. I have a gun in my backpack,” you offer quickly. You’re not dumb. You don’t trust that she is bluffing, and even asking so would get you shot on the spot. 

You swallow and watch as the woman cautiously walks to pick up your tan military backpack, rummaging through it for the shotgun you had found on a lucky scavenging trip. Your panic is beginning to dig its nails into you as you realize that besides that old, dull knife, that shotgun was the only weapon you had ammunition for. The pistol you carry is tucked away behind shelves of pain medication, but you haven’t found any 9 mm bullets in weeks now. Even if you survive this, you will be defenseless. 

In a state of pure adrenaline, you rise from your stained mattress and try to tackle her from behind. You’re only able to rip the backpack away before she has a switchblade to your throat and a rough grip on your wrists, bringing you down to the ground. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” She scoffs, a strained sound that sends a shiver down your spine. It isn’t anything deadly, at least not from others. However, this woman’s blade is kissing your delicate throat, ready to act. She aims to force your surrender. You can’t pretend the cold metal is a nightmare of your own creation.

“You can’t take my gun! I’m tired of having to use it, but I’m not dying. I’m not.” You feel your eyes burning with emotions you constantly have to put a lid over, but they spill over the pot when met with another human being, one you’re defenseless against. 

“Why the hell are you telling me all of this? I didn’t want you to have a weapon on you, you dumbass.”

Oh. 

The woman is met with silence on your end. She doesn’t falter. Instead, she presses into you slightly, not enough to bring blood to the picture she has brushed of you, but rather to intimidate. 

You struggle to think in the moment, your heartbeat rapidly thumping against your ribcage, your pulse rising in your wrist and neck. You should defend yourself—your instincts inside of you, the ones that drive you to do unspeakable things know that. 

You’re not a weakling. Your body is screaming at you, telling you to at least attempt to rip the knife from her grasp. Instead, you grow still. You know better. 

“Where’s Abby?”

You can’t look back at her, but you’re sure she can take the confusion from your voice, even from the rasp of its disuse. “Abby?” 

The name is foreign on your tongue. Though you reside in Seattle, you’re not involved in any groups. You’ve had hostile encounters with both WLF and Seraphites, but you can easily assume that the woman is referring to someone from this area. 

You wince when you feel fingers lace through your hair and wrench your head back. “Don’t fuckin’ play with me. Where is Abby?” The sharp end of her steel is not far from nipping at your delicate skin. She only lessens the pressure so you can talk. 

“I don’t know who Abby is, okay? I don’t talk to many people. I just live on my own.” You’re eager for her to believe you, but she isn’t as trusting as you hope. You can’t be surprised.

“So you just live in Seattle on your lonesome, no ties to the groups here that would kill you?” She scoffs, “I find that kind of hard to believe.”

“It’s true! I don’t know how, but I’m alive. Nobody’s found this pharmacy, ‘cept for a few people. I don’t think any of them were from the group you’re talking about.” You don’t mention what happened to those few people. The guilt constantly rings in your ears like the bell of death. 

For a moment, the woman is seemingly contemplative. You can see it right in her pupils, the way her lids twitch. 

She wonders whether or not she should kill you, and it isn’t hard to guess why. Perhaps to cut loose ends, or maybe she really enjoys killing. That isn’t uncommon in this world; people who were once good, loving people and only wanted to see the next day get caught up in the adrenaline of shoving a gun into another’s face or threatening them with a machete, how the feeling dulls all of the pain to a throbbing ache. You may even forget the pain entirely, just for a split second. 

You hate killing. It’s a disease that likes to spread more rampantly than any infection. It takes over, and nobody can seem to see past it all. Not even past themselves, they can’t see the damage killing does. You only kill when necessary, and the people follow you like a chain of ghosts. 

That is how your counterparts function, though. They believe that the next slaughter will cease the buzzing in their ears, that it’ll let them forget the previous. If anything, the buzzing grows in volume. It festers into a deadly hive, what once was a honeybee. 

Why do you decide to lead her through the thick green entirety of Seattle? Death is easy. Hell, even making a break for it is easy. You’re a smart girl, as your thoughts have been your companion for years and you expected them to run you for years more. Friends are scarce. 

Maybe that’s just why. Emotional availability isn’t your strength, and social skills tend to die with time. You don’t know how to communicate smoothly, let alone get all of your feelings out to this troubled girl. 

You don’t know her, and she doesn’t want to know you. That isn’t what is truly growing roots in every crevice of your brain, though. Instead, you wonder: do you want to know her? Past the tells she offers?

So you observe. 

Just tiny glances behind you here and there as you walk forward, and you forget how heavy your steps usually are. 

You watch the way her lower lip trembles, fingers faltering with the safest side of her switchblade. Tells–she isn’t so set on taking you out for a sick thrill. There is something there, however. It isn’t humane, it isn’t normal. It’s a dead, blank look in her eyes at times that is the deadliest of its genre. You see an anger within her that slickens her eyes each time she blinks, and you nearly cringe knowing that this anger brings her every bated breath. It’s a parasite that feeds her. 

Rage and grief are things not so easily mixed together in the old world, but here, they’re a blurred brown with splotches of that actual original color. It’s revenge that makes the final mix, and you feel your stomach churn with yesterday’s supper at the thought. You mentally hurl as soon as it strikes you.

“Do you know what the WLF is?” She turns you around, but you know better than to use the action to your advantage. You don’t want to kill her, even if you could manage it. She would be your next nightmare. “I’m sure you do, don’t you? Seattle is supposed to be infested with ‘em.” 

You give a kind nod. There are more to her words, and they aren’t as complicated as the rest of her. She gives you an outlet for the current predicament she has forced you in. You just have to give her something to work with.

“Show me.” 

Your feet carry you along like they always do, through the city you can never thoroughly explore all on your own. Your body usually cannot handle the long trips, as you scavenge as far out as you can and return home to the familiar, old pharmacy for shelter. You’re in a state of terror as of right now, though. 

On one hand, you know that there are hostile groups within the city, and they will not hesitate to kill you for invading their ‘territory.’ The WLF has the majority of East Seattle in a chokehold, which is unfortunate for you seeing as how that is where you find the best of the best when it comes to ammunition and rations, usually from set up trailers and apartment complexes. 

The Seraphites take over mainly forest-like areas, which isn’t as much of an issue because they aren’t common to come by in the city. However, they are more hostile than WLF in most cases. 

On the other hand? 

There’s a girl behind you with a rifle on her back and a switchblade in her hand as she watches over you. You can feel her gaze burning into your head at times, and others you assume she is taking in her surroundings. You wonder about her, despite the annoying amount of anxiety she gives you. You wonder what her name is, where she’s from. It is clear she isn’t from Seattle, not used to the ruins the city is left in from the infection. Despite the situation and her walls erected around herself, ones that prevent you from even asking for her name, you want to know why she is here. You wish for her to at least tell you where she is originally from, if it’s as rainy as Washington. You wonder if she is from a colder area, or perhaps she prefers beaches. You can’t tell if she likes Seattle like you do.

Something about the overgrown patches of verdure over every brick laid out, every single piece of the past Seattle your parents once knew, all feels strangely comforting. Though it’s a bond partially sealed in by the trauma you’ve endured living in a populated place despite the infection, you don’t know anything else. It’s like a very large home to you.

To that, your curiosity grows tenfold. You must assume that to the woman ordering you around, the city is an extremely different place. Filled with the violence she has shown you, tied to future bad memories. Little reminders will scatter throughout her life in the drops of rain in her future home, the sight of overgrown greenery on a tall building, and you just know the scent will stick to her like dirt underneath the fingernails. 

You’ve always taken a liking to the little things about people. The senses are all you possess at times, so best to make the most of them. Sometimes, it is a less fortunate thing to be so observant when it comes to people; to recall the way the eye color last person you murdered, or the scarf another victim had. ‘Victim’, if you can call them that. You only murdered for self defense or survival, yet anything but the word victim felt immoral.

You’ve noticed quite a few little details about her, now. You don’t want to make her a victim, though you’re terrified it’ll come to that. So, why is it that you are so keen to pick up on the heavy scent she carries? In the way that her hands tremble anxiously, though she is far from underneath you at this moment? It’s the little things that you notice and cling to, trying your hardest to keep them engraved into your memory so that you can carry a little piece of every human you meet along with you.

“Just around here,” you tell her. “I dunno how to get in.” You look up, pointing toward a wall covered in overgrowth. She only huffs.

“Maybe with a generator,” you add. She nods. 

“Can I stay with you?” You blurt out, the words not quite feeling like any sort of bile, but not the cleanest delivery you could create. It was something almost embarrassing to let the question leave your head and slip past your lips, making you feel like a tall child, just like the gate in front of you, overly tall and overdramatic. 

“Stay with me?” She says it out loud instead of internally, as if testing the idea, seeking her own reaction. “Why would you want to?” 

Not, ‘why do you want to?’ Why would you, though? Why would you wish to stay with this stranger, follow her around when you know the things she will expect you to do? The answer, if thought of vaguely, seems like a pile of nonsense. In the world you find yourself born into, it’s the only right answer. For companionship, and for survival. Seattle won’t keep you lucky forever, not until you’re older. 

“I don’t know” is what you say instead. You’re as immature as the day you were born, unable to speak it into existence. Your loneliness, your nightmares, your isolation. You’re so unavailable, and yet you can’t seem to let her go. This is the first person you’ve encountered in a long time who hasn’t been hostile, someone you haven’t been forced to murder. You’re desperate and it seeps into your choices, always has.

And so is she. Maybe less desperate than you, but something tells you it’s not as much of isolation as it is loss. 

“I’m Ellie,” she tells you, trying to sound blunt and unbothered, but vulnerability bleeds into the way she adjusts the collar of her shirt.

It’s a tell. 

PERM TAGLIST: @femme-tobe, @sulliefimmie, @klallx, @elliescoochieeater, @mytaping, @pryncess123, @therealhexstrap, @piercedome, @violetszn, @saturnhas82moons, @myfabulousnesshasarrived, @tombstonergirl, @sawaagyapong, @lucyaries, @caitlynthighs, @prettyinpink69, @usuck, @s7nburn, @hellokittyfeenie, @ssijht, @starberr1, @ruevu, @ruelezz, @littlefallenangel111, @prwttiestbunny, @eriiwaiii2, @starrycherie, @human-cacti, @tphmnv, @raindroprose23, @liztreez, @hotpinkskitties, @mars4hellokitty, @jhyoos, @elliesngirl, @moonfloweredprincess, @morticeras, @l0veylace, @abbysmeatrider, @ferxanda, @vahnilla, @frillynpinkprincess, @plasticl0v3r, @g4ys0n, @bewareofmyglock, @witzs, @ilovetaylorrr, @marinaated, @rareanduselessbird, @elliewilliamscutofffingers, @bready101, @rosekeu, @lluxentezz, @rockstargfsblog, @maple-anon, @rhian88, @zosiekxoxo, @kamiyanaa, @elliewilliamskisser2000

SERIES TAGLIST: @marieeeluvsyou, @honeyylovee, @brainrottedpup, @yasmilks, @hersuniverse, @wwefan2002, @chappellroankisser, @giveyouthem00n

[sadslay]

- NEED YOU ⋆☆ 𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

warnings - inspired by, mentions of scars & blood, nsfw content, this is short im so sorry

the first time you saw abby was when her and her people came to the seattle claiming to be fireflies. you had only heard whispers about the group, but no more then a week later abby was sitting in your waiting room with a bloodied face and fists. when you called her in she sat down quietly with her hands gripping onto the bed. the first thing abbys eyes stared at was the scar sitting in the base of your neck.

“abigail right?” you asked, beginning to gather what supplies you needed to clean her cuts.

“just abby.” she corrected, watching you closely as you spun back around with some clean water and a rag.

you knew exactly what brought abby here. an hour or so earlier there was an altercation with one of the young soldiers and it resulted in them getting up on medical leave while abby only came out with a few cuts and some bloodied knuckles. although you didn’t know the exact reason as to why abby lashed out, you were able to put together the pieces. from what you had read on her file and what you had heard around the base, abby was a fifteen year old ex-firefly that had recently just lost her father. you knew what headspace abby was in right now and it was not something that could be ignored.

“how long have you been at the base for?” you asked, fully knowing she had been here for nine days.

abby sat in silence as you cleaned the sticky drying blood from her left eyebrow before quietly replying, “just over a week.”

once you had cleaned the blood you were able to see the small cut running through the end of her eyebrow. lucky for her, it didn’t need stitches only a bit of medical tape to prevent infection. the silence between you and abby was heavy but surprisingly not awkward.

as you taped up her eyebrow, she asked, “i don’t need stitches?”

you shook your hear as you grabbed a near by cloth to begin cleaning the cut on top of her cheek. “no.” you spoke softly. “but your cheek’ll need stitches.

the rest of her visit she didn’t talk. you told her that the stitches were not dissolvable so she would have to come in a weeks time to get them removed and at the end of it all, she quietly thanks you and left swiftly.

⋆☆

carefully removing her stitches with a pair of tweezers and surgical pliers, you put all your focus into making the whole process as pain free as possible. you had noticed abby fiddling with her hands, most likely to keep herself distracted, and you could feel her eyes lingering on the base of your neck. no doubt she was intrigued by your scar, just about everyone was, but abby was different. abby hadn't once asked about your scar or looked at it in a disgruntled or disgusted way, in fact she rarely looked at it, but when abby did, she looked at it with intrigue.

"did you pick a job yet?" you asked quietly, managing to pull her eyes away from your neck.

"no." she replied quietly. "the job i wanted was taken." she added, the disappointment in her voice was so clearly evident.

you removed the last stitch, allowing abby to take in a deep breath as you put your tools down on a near by table. "n'what job was that?" you questioned.

“anythin’ in medical.” she shrugged as you began to clean your station. you let out a soft chuckle as you peeled off your rubber gloves making abbys eyebrows furrow. “whats so funny?”

you weakly shrugged as you turned back to abby, subtly assessing her face to see if she needed a cover while it continued to heal. “just didn’t expect that from you.” you mumbled, beginning to gather a small amount of medical tape to cover the cut on her cheek. “thought you’d wanna be a solider.”

abby scoffed. “just cause i’ve gotten into a few fights?” she asked as a smirk began to ghost over her lips.

gently applying the medical tape to her - mostly - healed cut you tried your hardest not to smile. “well yeah, ‘nd from the looks of it you can throw a good punch.” abby grinned, clearly proud of herself. “i treated her ya know?”

“you put her medical leave?” abby asked, raising an eyebrow as she watched you closely while you began to pack up your station.

“god no.” you chuffed. “i’ve sent worse injuries back into the field, it was issac that put her on medical leave.” you explained, beginning to take off your green medical apron and hanging it on the back of your office door. “it’s ‘cause he realized that if she couldn’t handle a civilian then she shouldn’t be a solider.”

abby thought for a moment, eyeing you up and down as this was the first time she had seen you out of uniform. “he’s got a point.” she mumbled nonchalantly as she remained completely focused on you.

“i could put in a good word for you ya know?” you mumbled, leaving up against your desk. “he owes me a favour.” you added as a soft smirk began to creep onto your lips.

“you think i’d be a good solider?” abby asked, pushing herself away from the medical bed to stand opposite to you.

you nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “i think if you got into gym and really trained you’d be one of our best.” you admitted. “then you get some good benefits around the base.” you added. abby folded her arms across her chest and thought for a moment. “maybe you can tag along with me one time.” you shyly suggested.

“i like the sound of that.”

⋆☆

as seasons passed you and abby grew incredibly close. first it started as weekly catch ups at the gym and the odd visit to your office after hours as she’d refuse to have her medical done by anyone else, and then it became more frequent. abby would stop by your office before she would get sent out to do a run for issac and any chance she got she would invite you to lunch in the food hall or even drop off lunch right to your office.

with all of abby’s attention you quickly become infatuated. abby had a way of making the simplest things give you butterflies. you quickly realized that your feelings towards abby were not just platonic and after years of fighting you had come to terms with the fact that you had fallen in love with her. so when she asked you to travel halfway across the country - on a limb that the man that you had only heard stories about- to hunt down the man had killed her father you had to go with her.

while the group had stopped in butte for a few days, you found yourself scavenging around the rundown motel when you overheard abby talking to owen. you stopped in your tracks, quietly listening as the pair hadn’t spoken in months.

“‘cause she’s fuckin’ useless.” owen muttered in a hushed whisper.

you heard abby let out a sigh causing your eyebrows to furrow. “we needed her hear incase we got into trouble. she’s a good nurse.”

were they talking about you?

“what about mel?” owen asked. “just cause you wanna fuck her-”

“watch it!” abby snapped. “i brought her along because your fucking girlfriend can barely do her fucking job.” abby quipped her voice was stern as she grew more frustrated at own. “i bought her along because shes fucking useful, no other fuckin’ reason.” she spat.

after that owen stormed off, walking out into the hall were you stood opposite to each other. he gave you a pathetic smile before walking straight past you. slowly you began to fill with frustration as you march towards the door own had just walked out of.

“you know if you wanted a fucking medic to come on this fucking scouting mission then i would have sent one of my students with you.” you snapped bitterly as you slammed the door behind you.

abby frowned as she realized you had heard her conversation with owen. “come on,” abby groaned. “you know i didn’t mean it like that.” she mumbled, looking down at you as she inched closer to you.

you rolled your eyes at the blonde, coming to your wits end with her as she had been distant from you for weeks. “how’d you mean it then?” you quipped.

“it means i like you dumbass.” she smirked, taking that final step to bring the two of you together.

scoffing at the idea you tried to step back, “if you like me so much, how come you’ve been avoiding me?” you asked, bumping into the door behind you.

abby smiled at your naivety as her arm rose, boxing you in against the wall. “because i can’t control myself around you anymore.” she spoke barely above a whisper.

chocking on your words only made abby’s smile grow. “shhh,” she coed. “i know you like me too baby.” abby hummed, her nonchalant cockiness about the whole situation made your cheeks flush pink.

“do not.” you tried to protest, even you could hear the bullshit making abby chuckle under her breath. “fuck off.” you spat, barely louder then a whisper.

“you really want me to go?” abby asked, her head dipping slightly to be at your eye level, only for you to avoid her eye contact all together. her hand parted from the wall before shortly reconnecting her hand with the the bottom of your chin. “look at me.”

only abby could make a demand sound so soft you thought. you hesitated for a moment, knowing what would happen if you did look at her, but you were weak at the knees and desperate for any attention from abby. your eyes finally met abby’s turning your stomach into knots.

“you really want me to leave baby?” she asked again, her breath kissing your ear.

looking up at her, you began to feel light headed as something you had dreamed about for months, maybe even years was finally beginning to come true.

“please don’t make me say it.” you shamefully whispered, as abby slowly combed a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“oh baby.” she snickered, her soft seductive chuckle gave you goosebumps. “but i want to hear you say it.” abby smirked.

there was no point in fighting it anymore, abby knew you liked her, there was no more denying it. “i want you to stay.” you spoke ever so softly. abby grinned as you took in a shallow breath before continuing to whisper, “i want you.”

that was all the confirmation that abby needed, to hastily press her lips against yours. it was so messy and polarizing to anything you had ever experienced before. abby’s hands grabbed firmly onto your hips as she pulled you against her, her touch alone was enough to make your knees buckle. your hand grasped onto the base of abbys neck as you almost felt light headed. the whole experience was so euphoric but ethereal at the same time.

“so needy baby.” abby breathed into your neck almost making you audibly moan.

desperate for some friction, you pulled yourself even closer to abby. “shut up.” you breathed, barely able to have a coherent thought as you began to rub against her thigh.

abby let out a breathy chuckle as her hands dipped down to your thighs before hoisting you up to sit around her waist. her hands held onto your ass firmly, relentlessly squeezing as she slowly lowered herself to the ground. as she sat down with her back pressed up against the door your legs knelt on either side of hers.

her hands roamed up and under your thin singlet, scratching at your skin before her hands returned to your ass. you rolled your hips against hers making your core tighten as your hand snaked up her arms to her neck. you slowly pulled away, leaning in close to abbys ear as she continued kissing the soft spot of your neck. your breathing was heavy and everything that abby was going made you feel so, so good.

as you leant up against abbys ear, your finger tips scratching the back of her neck you whispered, “i need you.”

[prettygirl-gabi]

Chapter 17: Court-Side Love and Matching Jerseys

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Paring: Paige Bueckers x !photographer fem reader

Fandom: Women's basketball

Summary: the camera's are watching and kk slick be leaking the tea....

Welcome to the chapter 17 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸

The team had been buzzing about this trip to Seattle for weeks. Coach Geno gave us the weekend off, and when Nika found out we were all coming to watch her play for the Seattle Storm, she nearly cried on FaceTime. Paige, of course, insisted on coordinating matching jerseys for us.

"They’re custom," Paige said, holding up the black-and-green and gold-and-green Seattle jerseys with Nika’s name and number on the back. "Because we’ve got to support our girl properly."

I smiled as I took mine, running my fingers over the embroidered lettering. "Matching jerseys, huh? You trying to stake your claim again?"

Paige shrugged, her smirk betraying her nonchalance. "Maybe."

Climate Pledge Arena was electric. The lights dimmed for the starting lineup introductions, and Nika’s name drew loud cheers from the crowd. She gave a quick wave to us before jogging onto the court.

Paige and I sat courtside, our matching jerseys impossible to miss. She laced her fingers through mine, resting our intertwined hands on her thigh, for a short moment before playfully smacking my hand and "flicking" my hand back to my lap. After I told her her hands were sweaty, I caught a couple of cameras pointed our way, but I ignored them, focusing on the game and the warmth of Paige beside me.

KK sat on my other side, clearly the third wheel. She leaned over during halftime, pointing at our jerseys, as if she didn’t get one from Paige after begging her to let her match with us.

"Y’all we really went full matching, huh? You know you’re just feeding the internet more content, right?"

Paige rolled her eyes. "What are they gonna do? Complain about us supporting Nika?"

"True," KK said, pulling out her phone. "Might as well lean into it. Smile, moms!"

Before I could react, KK turned her camera toward Paige and me, starting an Instagram Live.

"Hey, girly pops! Okay so boom we’re out here at the Storms game, watching the one and only Nika Mühl do her thing. And look at this!" She flipped the camera to show Paige and me. "Matching jerseys. I’m officially the third wheel."

Paige chuckled, throwing an arm around my shoulders and pulling me closer. "You’re lucky we let you sit with us."

The comments rolled in fast:

• They’re so cute!

• Not KK calling them ‘moms’ lol.

• When’s the family photos dropping on the gram since you’re matching?

• So like are they a thing or what?

KK squinted at her screen, reading aloud. "‘When’s the family photos dropping on the gram?’ Honestly, y’all, that’s a great question. Hey, moms, any updates?"

I buried my face in my hands, laughing despite myself. "KK, stop!"

Paige, on the other hand, grinned. "Patience, KK. Good things take time."

After the game, the team crowded into the players' tunnel to greet Nika. She hugged each of us, saving Paige and me for last.

"Look at you two," Nika said, gesturing to our jerseys. "My biggest fans."

"Always," Paige said, handing her the jersey we’d brought for her to sign.

Nika scribbled her name across the back before pulling us both into a hug. "Thanks for coming, guys. It means a lot."

Later that night, KK couldn’t stop talking about the Live.

"You should’ve seen the comments, Y/N," she said, scrolling through her phone. "People are obsessed with you two."

"Obsessed?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, like, in a good way," KK clarified. "They’re rooting for you."

I glanced at Paige, who was lounging on the bed, her hand resting on my knee. Her eyes met mine, and she smiled softly.

"Let them root," she said.

Her words settled something in me, and I leaned over to kiss her cheek.

As we boarded the plane back to Connecticut, Paige tugged me aside, holding up her phone.

"One of KK’s comments gave me an idea," she said, her tone mischievous.

"Oh no," I groaned.

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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza , @paxaz535 , @0phantom0 ,.... (more to be added)

[jedi-luca]

Head Over Feet: Chapter Two Butterflies

Summary: You didn’t know Dina before she came back to Jackson. She’s guarded, jaded, and carrying the weight of too many goodbyes. Now you can’t stop thinking about her. It’s a slow burn, and you’re patient… but will she ever let down her walls? Or will someone else reach your heart first?

Pairings: Dina x GN!Reader slowburn

warnings: spoilers if you haven’t played the game or seen the show

Previous Chapter

You walked up the driveway to your friend Cam’s house when she shouted from the porch.

“You missed lunch, what the hell happened?”

“I was fixin’ someone’s sink.” You took a seat on her porch, Cam handed you a glass of lemonade. You watched Her daughter Julie and Charlie chasing their old dog around the front yard, and her wife Lisa was fixing something in the house.

Cam settled beside you on the step, peering at you like she was reading a manual only she understood. “So?”

You raised an eyebrow. “So what?”

“You think she’s hot?”

You tried not to smile and failed. “She’s… intense.”

Cam grinned. “I knew it. Dina, right? Short, sharp, curly hair like she stepped out of a salon, eyes that could make a priest stutter?”

You blinked. “You know her?”

“Everyone knows of her,” she said, popping a piece of bread into her mouth. “She’s been back a little while now. Keeps to herself. Heard she’s been through it.”

You nodded slowly, thinking back to the way Dina’s hands had fidgeted on the counter while you worked, like she couldn’t decide whether to talk or bolt. “She’s got some walls.”

Cam snorted. “Y/N, that woman built a damn fortress after her ex. You showing up with a ladder or a battering ram?”

You huffed a small laugh. “Neither,” you muttered, more to yourself than to her. “I’m just fixing sinks.”

Cam gave you a knowing look, one brow arched like she’d seen this movie before.

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. “Okay. Maybe I like her.”

“Mm-hmm.”

You hesitated, then glanced at her. “Should I be scared to ask what her ex was like?”

Cam leaned back on her elbows, smirking. “Ask.”

You rolled your eyes. “Alright… what’s the story?”

She exhaled. “Well, Jesse was basically next in line to run Jackson after Maria and Tommy. Everyone figured he’d be the one to take over someday. But…” Her face softened. “He didn’t make it back from Seattle.”

You nodded, already knowing the ending, but not the in-between.

“Before that,” Cam continued, “he and Dina were together. A solid couple, sure, but I don’t think anyone ever thought they were in love. It felt more like… comfort. Ya know? Then Ellie came into the picture. Best friends first. Then something more. That one burned hot, but fast. After JJ was born, the three of them tried to make it work for a while. Then one day, Dina left with Ellie. When she came back, it was just her and JJ.”

You were quiet.

Cam added, a little softer now, “Ellie was tough. Brave, sure but just like Joel and Tommy she was reckless as hell. She always seemed to be chasing something she could never catch, and Dina… she was always the one pulling her back from the edge.”

You took that in slowly, thinking of the way Dina kept her emotions buttoned tight, the way her eyes held both warmth and warning.

“She must’ve gone through hell,” you said.

Cam nodded. “Still is, maybe. But she’s back. And you my friend-” she poked your arm, “-you’re not just fixing sinks.”

“She offered me lunch for the help.” You shrugged.

“That’s everything.” Cam whistled. “Oof. You sure know how to pick ’em.”

You laughed under your breath. “She was just being nice. She’s not ready. ”

Cam bumped your shoulder with hers. “Maybe. Or maybe she’s just waiting to see if you are.”

You looked down at your hands, still stained with dirt and soap. “I didn’t even flirt.”

“Sure,” she said. “But you showed up. You fixed what was broken. That’s kind of flirting.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for the wisdom, Dr. Cam.”

She grinned. “Anytime.”

In the distance, Charlie and Julie let out a victorious howl, and the dog barked happily after them. You sat back, letting the moment settle into your bones.

You weren’t rushing anything. But something in Dina’s eyes when she cooked withe you that had stirred something in you.

And maybe just maybe it had stirred something in her, too.

A few days later it’s your turn to go on patrol and Dina just so happens to be on your run. You know Maria had a hand in that line up.

The sun is already beating down by the time the two of you make it past the west perimeter of Jackson, hooves crunching on dry dirt and loose gravel. You can feel the heat rising through the soles of your boots, smell the dust warming in the grass. Late summer always has this golden, heavy kind of silence to it like the world is holding its breath.

Your horse keeps an easy pace beside Dina’s, both of them familiar with this trail by now. The ride is quiet. Almost too quiet.

You steal a glance at her as she adjusts the brim of her cap. Her face is shadowed, unreadable, except for the slight tension around her mouth. Ever since the lunch she said she wasn’t looking for anything this has been the way of it. Not cold. Not distant. But careful. Like she’s guarding a line she doesn’t trust herself not to cross.

You clear your throat, keeping your eyes forward. “JJ still running around shirtless like it’s a beach town?”

Dina’s lips twitch into a smile. “He spent all morning in just his pull-ups and cowboy boots. I gave up halfway through trying to dress him.”

You laugh. “Charlie rolled around in the mud yesterday. I think we’ve officially lost control.”

“Good,” Dina says. “Let the kids take over. They might actually improve things.”

You both smile, the air between you softening just a little.

The horses carry you through the thinning trees, their tails flicking lazily at the flies. The wind rustles the tall grass beside the trail. Far ahead, a pair of hawks circle lazily over the ridge.

There’s a comfort in the rhythm of two people riding in sync, not touching, not even looking at each other for too long, but still moving together. Still something.

“I meant what I said the other day,” Dina says quietly, and the words hang there like dust in sun. “I didn’t want to confuse things. Or lead you on.”

“I know,” you answer, after a pause. “It was clear.”

She nods, but the way her jaw shifts says it wasn’t that simple for her either. “You’ve just… been there. For JJ. For me. It means more than you probably realize.”

Your throat tightens a little. “I didn’t do it expecting anything.”

“I know that too.” She looks over at you then, and for a moment the sun hits her face just right — warm and golden, her eyes darker than usual beneath the brim of her cap. “But I figured if I didn’t say something, I might start… wanting things I can’t handle.”

You want to ask what exactly she can’t handle. Want to ask if maybe, somewhere in her hesitation, there’s still a door cracked open. But you don’t. You just nod, like that’s all you ever needed.

You dismount when the trail dips near a narrow creek, horses left to graze in the shade while you both walk the line of snares. The grass is brittle, some of it yellowed at the edges, the summer drought stealing green from the edges of the land.

One of the snares has caught a rabbit — a clean catch. You kneel beside it, glancing at Dina. “Dinner?”

“JJ’s been begging for stew,” she says. “But he calls it ‘goo soup’ and refuses to eat it unless it has carrots.”

You smirk. “I’ll trade you half if you give Charlie the illusion she helped make it. She’s been stuck in this ‘I’m the chef’ phase.”

Dina chuckles, then crouches beside you, close enough that you can smell the faintest trace of her — something earthy and warm, like lavender soap and worn leather. You glance over just as she’s reaching to help you untangle the line.

Your fingers brush just briefly.

It’s not much. Not even half a second.

But it makes her freeze.

You don’t move, holding the wire steady. Her eyes flick to yours, and for a moment, the look on her face says everything she isn’t ready to voice — hesitation, want, fear. And something else buried underneath all that — something unguarded.

She pulls her hand back, too fast. “Sorry.”

You nod slowly, giving her an easy out. “All good.”

You follow the curve of the trail into a grove of cottonwoods. The air shifts here — cooler under the canopy, the sun fragmented in patches on the ground. Both horses slow naturally, hooves muffled by dried leaves.

“You and Charlie doing okay?” Dina asks, quieter now.

You nod. “Yeah. She’s resilient. I still catch her crying sometimes. Late at night, when she thinks I can’t hear. That’s why my back has been killing me lately. I've been sleeping on her bed holding her until she stops crying.”

Dina glances over. “I know I’ve said this before, but she’s lucky to have you.” She watches you for a second too long, then looks away.

You ride in silence for a while. The birdsong thickens. Somewhere to your left, a woodpecker taps away. It’s peaceful — until your horse’s ears pin back, nostrils flaring.

You pull on the reins slightly, scanning the edge of the woods. Dina slows too, her eyes narrowing as she follows your line of sight.

Then you hear it: a faint, wet groaning sound — just beyond the trees.

Clickers.

At least two. Maybe more.

Dina nods toward a bend in the trail. “Tie them off?”

You both dismount, working fast and wordlessly. Your heart picks up, but you’re already sliding into that familiar focus. The sharp edge of readiness that comes when things go sideways.

You grab your knife and shotgun. Dina keeps her gun drawn as the two of you move quietly off the trail, boots crunching dry leaves with careful steps.

You catch sight of them near an old wreck — an SUV long since rusted through, ivy crawling up its sides. Three infected, faces slack and bodies twitching. One turns its head suddenly, sniffing the air.

You raise your hand. Dina stops.

A runner breaks off and comes lurching through the brush fast.

Before she can raise her gun, you move.

Your body reacts before thought catches up — a clean, fluid motion. One shot to the knee brings it down, the second rips through its head before it even hits the ground. You step back, breathing sharp, ears ringing from the close echo.

Another one stumbles toward you. You let it come close, then pivot hard, slamming the butt of your gun into its temple, knocking it back. Before it can recover, you drive your knife clean into its skull.

It drops. Dead.

You look up — the third’s gone.

Dina signals, and you both sweep left. A brief scramble. A noise behind you. You spin and level your shotgun — but Dina’s already there. One quick shot to the eye.

Silence.

You both stand there, chests heaving, the forest too still.

“Jesus,” Dina mutters, lowering her gun. “You okay?”

You nod, wiping your blade. “You?”

She nods back, watching you longer than she needs to. Her eyes are darker now, more unreadable.

“You didn’t even flinch,” she says.

You shrug. “Didn’t have time to.”

She studies you — not just your stance, but your face, your breathing. “You’re different when you’re out here.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Different how?”

“I don’t know.” She pauses. “Sharper. Calmer, but also… dangerous.”

You snort. “I’ll put that on my resume.”

But she doesn’t smile. She just looks at you, the weight of her gaze pressing something low in your gut. There’s tension there — not the kind that repels, but the kind that hums, delicate and electric.

Back at the horses, you clean your blade again, wiping the blood on your rag. Dina watches you with a frown that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” You ask focusing on your knife that had once belonged to your father.

“I didn’t expect—” She breaks off, then quietly: “You scare me a little.”

You glance up, surprised.

“In a good way,” she adds quickly, but her cheeks are pink now, and she looks away. “It’s like… I didn’t think someone could come in and just… be that steady. That sure.”

You don’t know what to say. Your heart’s thudding too loud for words.

She mounts her horse again before you can reply. You follow, both of you silent as you guide the horses back toward the trail.

When you’re riding side by side again, she doesn’t pull away when your knee brushes hers. She doesn’t move her horse back to its usual space.

She just lets it happen.

“Maybe we can set up a play date with JJ and Charlie?” she asks as the trail winds back toward town.

You glance at her, surprised. But you keep your voice steady. “Yeah. We could do that.”

The gate to Jackson comes into view, sun sinking low behind the treetops. You don’t know what she meant by we. Maybe she doesn’t either.

But as her shoulder grazes yours again — deliberate this time, no apology — you realize the line she’s trying to keep might not be as solid as she wants it to be.

And that feels like the beginning of something.

Something slow.

Something real.

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The house is quiet.

JJ’s finally down, curled under his favorite blanket with a stuffed fox half-under his cheek and a fist full of berries he refused to let go of. The air is still thick from the day’s heat, windows cracked but barely letting in a breeze. Dina stands at the kitchen sink, rinsing a couple plates, the water warm and mindless.

She’s not really focused.

Her eyes keep drifting to the corner of the table — the same place you sat across from her the day before, elbow on the table, fork in hand, that crooked little smile she swears you don’t know you have. You’d just fixed the plumbing under her sink, mud still drying on your pants, and she knew the moment she opened the fridge and offered you lunch, she was toeing a line she didn’t want to acknowledge.

So she told you.

“I’m not looking for anything right now.”

And you’d just nodded. Like it didn’t knock the wind out of you. Like you were too kind to show it even if it did.

Dina sighs and shuts off the water.

She moves through the house like muscle memory, picking up stray socks and crayons, locking the front door. Her eyes land on JJ’s cowboy boots by the mat, one upright, one on its side and a pang hits her chest out of nowhere. Not grief, not quite. Something softer. More complicated.

Upstairs, she changes into a worn T-shirt, hair still damp from the shower, the smell of lavender clinging faintly to her skin. She lies down on her bed — and immediately knows sleep’s not coming anytime soon.

Because you’re still in her head.

Not in some abstract, friendly way. But you… breathing hard after taking down those infected, the sun catching your flexed biceps, the quiet steel in your eyes when you moved ahead of her like you’d do it every day, just to keep her safe.

Dina presses her fingers to her temple.

You didn’t flinch.

She meant it. It scared her, not just how capable you are, but how it made her feel. Because for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel like she had to brace for disappointment or danger. You moved through that moment like a wall between her and chaos, and not for show just because that’s who you are.

And then that stupid touch.

That split second graze of your fingers when you untangled the snare. Her hand still tingles from it. It was nothing. It meant nothing.

Except it didn’t.

Her body remembered it long after her brain told her to ignore it.

And the way your knees brushed on horseback? She could’ve moved. She didn’t.

Dina exhales, staring at the ceiling. Her heart beats a little too fast when she lets herself picture what would’ve happened if you’d touched her for real. If she’d leaned just slightly closer. If the line between comfort and something else had blurred.

But she can’t.

She has JJ. She has scars still mending inside her. And you… you’re the only steady thing in her life right now. She can’t let herself want that. Not when wanting always seems to mean losing, eventually.

Still.

She shifts on the bed, frustrated with herself. This was exactly why she tried to draw that line.

But instead, you’ve become the exception to every rule she made to survive.

She shuts her eyes. Tomorrow, she’ll keep it simple. Be polite. Friendly. Grateful.

But for tonight… she lets herself remember the look on your face when you said, “Didn’t have time to [flinch].” The calm in it. The quiet strength.

And maybe just for a second she lets herself wonder what it would feel like to be held by someone like you.

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The sun’s barely crested the mountains when Dina walks to Maria’s house, JJ in tow. His tiny backpack thumps against his back with every clumsy step, stuffed with crackers, crayons, and the dinosaur he refuses to nap without.

Maria’s already on the porch, sipping her coffee, eyes half-lidded in that way that always makes Dina nervous — like she’s watching more than she lets on.

“Morning,” Maria says as Dina reaches the steps. “You look like you didn’t sleep.”

“I didn’t,” Dina mutters. She ruffles JJ’s curls. “Think you can keep him for a bit? I could use some quiet.”

Maria gestures toward the house. “Kim’s inside. Go sit. I’ll take this little monster to terrorize the goats.”

JJ cheers and runs to Maria, who lifts him onto her hip like it’s nothing.

Inside, the house smells like fresh bread and wood polish. Kim stands at the counter slicing fruit, her sleeves rolled up, already humming something soft under her breath. She looks up. “Hey, sweetheart. You hungry?”

“Just tea. Maybe a shovel to dig a hole I can crawl into.”

Kim laughs and pours her a mug. Dina wraps her hands around it, lets the heat settle into her palms. She sits at the table and stares at it for a long second before blurting:

“I think I messed up.”

Kim’s expression softens, but she doesn’t speak. She sits across from Dina, patient as ever.

Maria joins them a moment later, dusting goat hair off her jeans. “Well,” Maria says, “if you’re gonna confess, now’s the time.”

Dina takes a breath. “I told Y/N I wasn’t looking for anything. That I wasn’t ready. And it was true, then. Still is, mostly. But now—”

She trails off.

Kim leans in. “But now something changed?”

Dina shakes her head. “It’s not that. Nothing happened. We were just on patrol yesterday. There were infected, and—” She hesitates. “Y/N was so calm. So in control. Y/N moved like they weren't afraid of anything, not even for themselves. It scared the hell out of me. But not because I didn’t trust Y/N. Because I did. Completely.”

Maria raises an eyebrow. “And that’s the part that freaks you out.”

“Yeah.”

Kim folds her hands. “What happened after?”

“We didn’t talk about it. We just rode back. But I keep replaying everything. The way Y/N looked at me with they’re eyes sparkling under the sun. The way they didn’t flinch. Even when I told Y/N, I wasn’t available. They just… accepted it. With so much grace, it hurt.”

Kim smirks. “Sounds like you’re mad Y/N didn’t fight you on it.”

Dina blinks. “I’m not—”

“You’re not mad. You’re conflicted,” Maria corrects. “Because you gave them a boundary and Y/N respected it. And instead of pushing, they made you feel safe. And that’s terrifying.”

Dina swallows. Kim reaches across the table and gently lays her hand over Dina’s. “Sweetheart… a lot of women fall for the ones who burn hot, who crash through the walls. But trust me. Long term? You want the one who builds a fire and waits for you to sit beside it.”

“Lord knows Ellie burned hot.” Dina blinks hard against the sudden tightness in her throat. “I’ve been alone a long time,” she says softly. “Even when I wasn’t.”

Kim nods. “You don’t have to decide anything right now. You’re allowed to feel all of this without acting on it.”

Maria leans back. “But if it’s Y/N? Don’t wait too long. They’ve got a good heart. I’ve seen what they do for Charlie, how the kid’s steady even after everything. That kind of care doesn’t come easy. And people like Y/N… they don’t come around often.”

“Not to mention the moms circling like sharks around them.”

“Why do they have to be such a dreamboat?” Dina presses her fingers to her temple, overwhelmed. “They brush my hand and I feel like I can’t breathe. Y/N says one kind thing and I start rethinking my entire future. It’s like they see me… not the version I show people, but the parts I try to bury.”

“Good,” Maria says simply. “Means you’re finally ready to stop hiding.”

Dina exhales. “I’m not ready to love again.”

“You don’t have to,” Kim says. “Just don’t lie to yourself about what you do feel.”

They sit in silence for a moment. The morning sunlight slants across the table, warm and blinding. Dina thinks of your eyes in that same light; clear, steady, unflinching. And her heart aches. Just a little.

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The afternoon sun glints off the greenhouse glass as you work your way down the garden row, dirt caked beneath your nails and sweat trickling down your spine. Charlie’s laughing somewhere behind you, tossing a handful of wildflower seeds while JJ stomps through a puddle he was specifically told not to jump in.

You should be focused. But your mind’s somewhere else stuck on yesterday’s patrol. On the way Dina’s fingers brushed yours. On the heat of her thigh against yours in the saddle. On the words she said over lunch.

“I’m not ready for anything.”

She’d smiled when she said it. Not cruel just careful. Distant in a way that didn’t match the rest of her.

You don’t hear Maria approach, but you feel her presence before she speaks. She’s always been like that steady, grounded, impossible to ignore.

“You’ve been tying that same stem for three minutes.”

You glance down. The tomato vine in your hand is bent at an odd angle.

You untwist it gently, avoiding her eyes. “Just… thinking.”

“Let me guess…About a short brunette with a fiery personality? Goes by Dina?”

You pause, then nod. No use pretending otherwise. Maria sees everything.

“I’m not trying to complicate her life,” you say quietly. “She’s got JJ. She’s been through hell. I know she’s not looking for anything.”

Maria hums, folding her arms over the top of the garden fence. “Doesn’t mean you’re not part of her life already.”

You glance at her.

“She trusts you with her kid. With herself. That’s not nothing.”

You nod, but there’s a bitter twist in your chest. “She pulled back. Yesterday. It wasn’t mean, just… clear. I think I made things weird.” You cringe.

Maria snorts softly. “You think that because she didn’t fall into your arms, it’s over?”

“No-yes- I don’t know,” you say. “But I think she’s scared.”

“And you’re not?” she asks.

You don’t answer. Because the truth is, you are. Terrified.

Maria watches you for a long beat. “I’ve known Dina a long time. She does this thing convincing herself she’s fine until the cracks start showing. She doesn’t open up easy. Especially not when she cares.”

You glance back toward the garden gate. Dina’s nowhere in sight now. Just Charlie and JJ building a very messy dam with rocks and sticks.

“I don’t want her to feel cornered,” you say.

Maria nods slowly. “Then don’t push. But don’t disappear either. Be the same person you’ve been. Steady. Present. Let her come to you when she’s ready.”

You take a slow breath, the sun warm on your shoulders.

“Feels like I’m just waiting.”

“Sometimes love starts like that,” Maria says. “Quiet. Patient. But it’s worth it.”

You blink at her, surprised by the tenderness in her voice.

She shrugs. “Just don’t get caught standing still if she finally turns around.”

And with that, she heads back toward the stables, leaving you alone with your thoughts, and the quiet hope that maybe, just maybe, the door isn’t as closed as it feels.

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