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bookshelf-dust · 1 year

Text

the hurt is good

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi

billy hargrove x fem!reader

word count: 2,344

warnings: swearing, smoking, reader is lonely, descriptions of billy’s abuse, mentions of neil

a/n: hi! so i decided to challenge myself with this. i’m making this a multi-part story. i’ve never done anything like this before, but so far i’m enjoying it. i’m not entirely sure where we’re headed, but i’ve got a sort of outline in my head. i’ve also decided to try something else new, and i’ve picked out some songs that you can listen to before you read to get you in the mood—but only if you want of course. this is all a really new experience for me but i have put a lot of heart into this first part. i hope that you enjoy this, really i do. also the title is from a part of hop’s letter to el. <333

before you read, listen to: wheel in the sky by journey and/or (don’t fear) the reaper by blue oyster cult

————

Sitting cross-legged on your bed, you turn the page of the book in front of you, the sound of the paper flipping an audible one.

You lift the hardback, tuck your nose into the center of the pages and give it a sniff. It might be odd to do so, yes, but to you, books are the best smelling thing in the world.

You put it back down, go back to reading.

A knock breaks you out of your fantasy literature-induced stupor.

“Honey? Okay for me to come in?” Your mother’s voice, soft and sweet.

“Sure.” Your voice is quiet when you speak, though just loud enough for her to hear.

Your bedroom door opens enough for your mother to stand just inside, her back against the frame, one hand gently resting on the knob.

You reach for your bookmark, drape it over one side of the pages and then close it.

“Hey, kiddo.” Her smile is easy. You try your best to give her one of your own, but you know it falls short.

“Wendy and I are going out to dinner tonight and then to an art show.”

Wendy was your mother’s longtime best friend, and quite the riot.

“Apparently her new girlfriend is something of an artist.” She gives a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows. “Do you think you’d like to tag along?”

You uncross your legs and stretch them out: contemplating. Then you do the same to your back, which makes an obscene crackling noise—enough to make the both of you grimace.

You know how you’ll feel if you go out with your mother and her friend.

You’ll be okay for the first little while, but then there will be too many people. You’ll get nervous. You will probably say something wrong and feel the need to shut down. You will shut down. Your hands will get shaky and you’ll get upset, and by the end of the night you’ll wish you hadn’t gone at all.

You know how you’ll feel if you stay home, too.

You’ll be fine, totally fine, having avoided everything you’d face in the other situation. But you’d be guilty. Guilty because you’re young and you won’t be going out to do whatever or making friends. You’ll feel like you’re failing your mom, who just wants you to experience things.

You decide that leaving your house shouldn’t require this much stress.

“No, I don’t think so,” you finally say. “But thank you for offering.”

You watch your mother as she moves further inside your room, settling on the edge of your bed.

“Are you sure?” She sets her hands on your knees, tapping her fingers, many a ring glinting in the overhead light of your room.

“We could get frozen yogurt. You know, I really think you’ve turned Wendy into a monster after we went last time. It’s all she talks about now.”

That gets a small smile out of you, but brings an ache to your chest.

“I’m sure. Don’t get too crazy, tonight, though. And be sure to let me know about her new partner.”

“Alright. Hug or no? What’s the affectionate meter at right now?”

“A hug is fine,” you say through a quiet laugh.

She wraps her arms carefully around your shoulders, allowing you to squeeze first, that way she can gauge what you need.

“I’ll leave some money out so you can order pizza, okay?” You nod. “Also there’s a pint of the ice cream you like in the freezer.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Anything for you, my little honeybee.” With a final pat of your knee and a wink sent in the direction of your book, your mother sweeps out of the room, and a little while later she is out the door.

Alone in the house, you let out an exhale, before heading to the kitchen.

Opening the designated take-out-menu-drawer, you scrounge for the one belonging to a local pizza place. You go ahead and order now, knowing that it might take awhile since the place is in downtown Hawkins.

You realize, setting the phone down, that you don’t know what to do with yourself once you’ve got the chance to do whatever you please.

You retrieve your book to read on the couch until your dinner arrives, not only for a change of scenery, but because you’ll need to be out in the living room to watch an episode of your favorite show in a while anyhow.

You’ve only sat momentarily when you hear it. Hear him. When you hear his music, specifically.

Billy Hargrove lives a few doors down from you, just close enough that you can always hear when he comes home, music blaring—not that differently from the volume you play it at when alone in your car—and doors slamming.

You don’t know him personally, only from school. Only as this pretty boy who’s been in Hawkins a few months.

You know enough that you hate the way people at school look at him. Like he’s an object. Like he’s this foreign being just because he came all the way from sunny California. The way they talk about him. About his ass, or his car, or his little redhead sister.

You know he’s pretty. You’d never deny that. But he’s just like the rest of you, and it bothers you that people treat him—at least from what you’ve seen—like this all-powerful dude.

But you also know enough that you think maybe he doesn’t have the best home life, just from what you’ve seen when you’re not out—which is always.

Sometimes you see him walking up and down the street at various times during the day. Or you hear his car speed off.

Sometimes, though really only sometimes, you see him trailing his sister while she skateboards, either talking or sitting while she goes.

To you, he seems like a loner.

And maybe it’s because you’re one too that you see him that way. That you can see him that way.

————

Outside, Billy cups his hand around his cigarette. It’s seemingly out of habit, since it’s not windy out. His thumb slides along the spark wheel of his lighter once, twice before the flame catches. The tip glows red in the night.

He walks a little further, as he inhales deeply, closing his eyes and soaking it in. He kicks a rock, hard, trying to see if it’ll hit the post of the mailbox a few feet ahead of him.

He watches a pizza delivery car ride by and pull into a driveway. He hasn’t made it very far on his walk. The walk he wouldn’t be taking because it’s pretty damn cold outside.

But Neil Hargrove wasn’t aware that Max Mayfield had joined the Hawkins AV Club, and when there was no Max at home, he took it out on Billy, telling him he was an irresponsible waste of space.

It took Susan getting home with her daughter and explaining the situation for Neil to calm down.

But Billy’s back was aching from where he’d been slammed up against a doorframe, and frankly he wanted nothing more than to get out of the house.

So here he was.

A porch light flicked on as if whoever was inside had been waiting on that pizza. You had been—sitting on the couch and listening for car sounds.

When the delivery guy rings the doorbell you appear, and Billy realizes he knows you. That he goes to school with you. You’re very quiet. He also thinks your very pretty, and he’s never noticed that before.

You look very comfortable; all of your clothes seem to be too big. With the way the yellow outside light hits you, it gives your face a multitude of shadows. Billy thinks about some of the greek statues he learned about in a history class back when he lived in California. About how artists tended to sculpt women with real bodies.

Shit, he thinks. He’s probably staring at you. But you really are very pretty.

On the stoop, you take the pizza and set it on the table just inside the door and then hand the guy his money.

You decide not to be a dick and make sure that he gets out okay. When he backs out, you catch a flash of red out of the corner of your eye.

You wouldn’t be able to see him if it weren’t for the street lights. Billy is looking at you. You smile at him, and to your surprise, he smiles back.

“You okay?” You ask, hoping that your voice carries to him, because you don’t feel like shouting.

You watch him shrug and take another drag of his cigarette. The fingers on his free hand fidget with the ring he’s wearing, and you pretend not to notice.

“You?” He questions in return. Something about the sound of his voice makes you feel warm inside.

You shrug back, and he lets out a breath of a laugh, before you turn around to go inside and he continues with his walk.

You kick the door shut and lock it behind you, thinking about Billy.

That is the most extensive conversation you’ve ever had with him, aside from one a few days after he started at Hawkins High, when he didn’t know where the auditorium was, so you walked him the whole way there. You were pretty sure he’d been embarrassed to have to ask for help, but you hadn’t been bothered at all.

In fact, that exchange outside was the most conversation you’d had with anyone outside of your mother in a while.

Most days you didn’t say a word at school, keeping to yourself, trying to get homework done any chance you could so that it didn’t actually become homework. Sometimes you had to speak with a teacher though, and of course you said thank you when someone held a door—but that was it.

Quite frankly you didn’t know what to think. Part of you hoped you’d see him again. That you’d make a friend.

You hadn’t had a friend in a very long time.

————

When your mother returns home, it is with many beans to spill.

Wendy’s new partner, who you found out was named Stephanie, was, in your mother’s words, “Hot enough to go gay for.”

Your mother had also undoubtedly had some to drink while out and about.

“Also that boy from down the street? Don’t you go to school with him?”

You start fussing with a string on your sleeve. “Yeah, why?”

“Well he was brooding on his porch when Wendy retrieved me, and he’s still wandering around outside. It’s been,” she checked her watch, “three hours.”

You scratch at your nose, thinking.

“I saw him when the pizza got here.”

Your mother hums. “Well, I’m going to go shower the art gallery off of me and then probably stay up too late reading.”

“Okay.”

She smiles sweetly at you, collecting the pile of rings and other jewelry that she’d taken off and set on the counter while talking to you, and then you’re alone again.

You flatten your body over the countertop, bending at the waist and stretching so that your fingers can grip the other side.

You think about Billy out there. He was obviously going through something. And maybe it isn’t any of your business, but you hate the idea of him being alone, wallowing in self-pity. Not that you have any room to talk.

You straighten, walking carefully so as to not allow your socked feet to slip along the floor, and find yourself reaching for your coat.

Shoving your feet into a pair of shoes, you flip on the porch light once again, and make your way outside.

Across the street, Billy is resting against a low wall that has a mailbox set into it.

Looking both ways out of habit, you make your way towards him, stopping a few feet away. He looks up at you, both hands on the brick underneath him. There is a half-finished cigarette in one of his hands. You find yourself wondering how much he’d smoked since he’d been out here.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He quirks a brow at you.

“You’ve been out here a long time, you know that?”

Billy glances at his watch. “Seems so.”

“Not cold?”

“‘M fucking freezing my ass off out here.”

You try and choose your words carefully, not wanting to push too hard. “Seems like you could solve that problem if you went inside.”

“Are you worried about me or something, Y/N?”

Trying not to think about the way your name sounded leaving his mouth, you admit to your crimes.

“Yeah, actually. You were out here earlier, and my mom said she saw you when she left and when she got home. I didn’t like the idea of you being alone.”

Something in Billy’s face softens. “Yeah?”

You exhale, your breath leaving a plume of air in front of you.

“Yeah.”

“Well then I guess I better get my ass inside, huh?”

You stuff your hands into your pockets and realize what you’ve got in there.

“Here.” You pull out a little hand warmer packet an hold it out to him.

Billy laughs. It’s a beautiful sound, you think. Charming and hearty. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

————

At school Monday, you make your way to the lunch table you’ve claimed, grass squishing under your feet.

You flip open your book, shove one leg under you.

It’s only been a little while of munching on grapes and forcing yourself to concentrate before you feel a weight drop onto the bench across from you, shifting the old table a little.

You look up. Billy Hargrove looks back.

He throws his bag on the worn wood, slaps a book of his own on top of that.

You’re confused at his appearance, and he seems to sense that.

“I didn’t like the idea of you being alone.”

You feel yourself heat up, and sit on one of your hands because you also feel like you could cry.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove comfort #billy stranger things #stranger things fic #billy stranger things fic #billy hargrove x f!reader #savannah’s fics

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rorywritesjunk · 6 months

Text

I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. He’s an asshole. He just is because I wanted to write him loud, demanding, everything. There’s 3 new characters thrown in because why not? Future Wife gets a name as well! A/N: I have no idea when Buggy became a Captain, so he’s a fresh faced captain in this. No clue how long this fic will be. I just started on the 4th chapter but I’m excited to write it out! I had fun with the original fic and decided to write the prequel to how they met. Enjoy! Also I wish every customer was like Buggy in that "I'm going to be an asshole but I'm going to overpay you for the opportunity to be an asshole".

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii. TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Chapter 2

It was five weeks until you saw that pirate again. You were at the counter while the girls were in the back working. Your boss was gone on an errand, leaving you in charge. This time he opened the door with a little less force than last time but the door still swung open and hit the wall. You looked up from your book and smiled when you saw him.

His coat had a tear at the sleeve where it connected to the shoulder and one cuff was nearly coming off. It looked like he got into a scuffle while wearing it. He was scowling as he stormed up to the counter, removing the coat and holding it out to you. You took it from him and looked it over with a frown.

“What happened?” You asked as you inspected the tear at the sleeve. “Did you get into a fight?”

You obviously chose to ignore what your boss had told you every day since he first showed up. Do not help him if he comes back. How could you not fix his coat up when it was in such a state? Not only were there tears in it, you saw the dirt staining the bottom and some blood on the front. You quickly gave him a look over, seeing that he appeared uninjured thankfully. You didn’t want to explain why there was a bloody and injured pirate in the shop if your boss returned early.

“Fix it.” He said, refusing to look at you.

“Do you need help? Are you injured at all, Captain?” You asked as you reached over the counter to touch one of his gloved hands. Buggy jerked his hand away from you and crossed his arms, shaking his head quickly.

“I’m fine!” He snapped. “I just need it fixed!”

“Can you give me some time?” You asked as you draped the coat over your arm. “I’d like you to wait here in case I need to see you in it.”

You saw his face turn red at those words but you didn’t know why. All you needed to see was that the seams on the sleeve were correct once you mended them, to make sure it still fit him in the shoulders when he moved in it. He glared at you before storming out of the shop.

“He came back.”

You turned to see the two teens peeking through the doorway to the back. You sighed softly and smiled. “He did and he gave me his coat to fix.”

“Miss Pins said not to help him.” Livia said as Edith nodded in agreement. You shrugged as you headed towards them.

“Well, I’m in charge right now so I get to decide who we help.” You told them. “Now, who remembers how to get blood stains out? I’ll do the mending but I’d like you two to clean it, okay? This will be good practice.”

Buggy returned two hours later. You were at the counter again with Livia, showing her the books and how customers and payments were tracked. The teenager ducked beside you when he came in but you just smiled. Why did you smile whenever you saw him? Buggy wasn’t sure what your game was but he was suspicious of you already. You should be quaking in fear when he arrived, not smiling like you were friends with him.

“Your coat is ready.” You told him as you nudged Livia to go retrieve it. “I got it stitched up and the girls cleaned it. Can I see it on you?”

“W-Why?” He demanded as he narrowed his eyes. Livia came out with the coat and started to leave but you stopped her. “What do you want me to do?”

“I need to make sure it fits you in your shoulders.” You told him as you took the coat from her and approached him. He took a step away from you but you held it out to him, and after a minute long stare down he finally pulled the coat on. You stood behind him as he made sure the fit felt good, and you put your hands on his shoulders again, smoothing out any creases and looking to see how it fit him. “Now, see, Livia, we want to make sure he has movement in his arms when he wears it, which is why I didn’t go in so far with my stitches when I repaired it.”

Buggy turned around to face you, scowling already, but you took his arm gently and lifted it up, showing her the cuff you reattached. “And see, you don’t even notice that this was hanging by a thread when he brought it in. I made sure to re-enforce this cuff as well as the other to ensure he wouldn’t have any issue.”

Livia stayed by your side, nodding along with what you said as she tried not to look at Buggy. How could she not stare at the bright red nose on his face? She wanted to ask if it was real, and did it honk if he squeezed it? Occasionally her eyes would go to his face while you talked about cleaning the stains and the best way to handle blood, but she really tried hard not to stare.

It was difficult and when she looked up at him one more time, he caught her looking and glared at her. She took a step back and ducked behind you as he opened his mouth to say something not nice to her.

“I’ll only bill you for what we did, but honestly it won’t cost much because you overpaid last time.” Your voice brought him back to you and he frowned. “So let us write that bill up real quick.”

He clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes. “No, I’ll… pay the amount I owe.”

“Oh, but last time-”

“I’ll pay you what I owe.” He snapped as he reached into his pocket and slammed the berry down on the counter. He didn’t wait for the bill, instead storming out of the shop once again. You collected the payment and counted it out again, shaking his head. He kept paying too much and you were wondering if you should open a line of credit for him if he came back.

The girls did not like Buggy. They thought he was loud, rude, and too angry. Your boss still wanted you to refuse service to him if he ever showed his face again but you didn't find him to be a problem. He came back two weeks later to the shop while it was just you, coat draped over his arm with the scowl forever etched on his face, though not as intense as usual. You smiled at him when you saw him and he tried not to look at you as he held it out to you.

“What happened now?” You asked as you took it from him and placed it on a hanger. You hung it from a book on the wall and began to look for any rips or missing buttons. Buggy crossed his arms, still not looking at you. “Captain?”

“There are threads that are too long.” He grumbled. “I need them trimmed.”

“Oh.” That was a bit of an odd request. “Can you show me where?”

He came around to you, pointing out where the thread tails were. You grabbed your little scissors and trimmed them as short as you could; some were less than a quarter of an inch long, but if he wanted it done then you would do it. You took time looking for any other imperfections, noting that the lining was still intact from where you had repaired it the first time, and the shoulder and cuff repairs were still holding strong. One button at the top of his coat looked like it may come undone in the near future, so you ducked into the back to grab a needle and thread to repair it.

Buggy remained quiet as he watched you work. You were quick to remove the button and old thread, wanting to make sure there was no risk of the button snagging and falling off. Every repair on his coat meant one less chance for him to stop by. Being a captain, you were certain he was busy, and that making time to try and get his clothes fixed would eat up valuable time, so you wanted to make sure he wouldn’t need to return any time soon.

Once you finished, you held his coat out to him and smiled. “Can you try it on for me?”

“Why?” He replied as he did as you asked. Might as well since you ask him every time he’s come in so far. You stepped forward and made sure the collar laid flat before you buttoned the top button of his coat.

“I want to make sure it looks good on you.” You told him as you made sure the fit looked good. “I’m almost done with my apprenticeship and I was taught to make sure the customer was happy.”

Buggy frowned. “Why aren’t you scared of me?”

“Am I supposed to be?” You asked as you finished with the buttons and straightened up, looking him over. “It looks good on you.” Smiling, you gave him a thumbs up. “Orange is a great color on you, Captain Buggy.”

He didn’t want to but he couldn’t help it. His cheeks burned at your compliments because he knew it was your job to tell him that. You said this to every customer, paid attention to all their details as well, so why was he feeling flustered just from this interaction with you? He didn’t even know your name but this was his third time stopping in for your help in the shop. He needed to sail away and never come back at this point. He didn’t want to see you if it was going to mean he blushed and his heart started racing, but at the same time, you had been nothing but kind to him. It was a little hard to stay away when he looked forward to seeing you smile at him.

Buggy reached into his pocket and you held your hand out to stop him. “No, no, it’s fine, I won’t charge you, Captain.”

“I’m going to pay you.” He grumbled as he pulled out the money. He took your hand, ignoring how he could feel the warmth of your skin through his glove, and put the payment in your hand. He pulled away and was out the door before you could stop him.

These little visits of his were starting to be a little… interesting to you but for some reason you were starting to look forward to seeing him.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x you #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #sunny x buggy #one piece #one piece oc #one piece fanfiction

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leclsrc · 1 year

Note

Heyyy, congrats on 2000! ❤️❤️

I have a request for Carlos + [ FIVE CALLS ].

what i feel for you – cs55

genre: fluff, 2k celebration, title from this

send for five times the receiver nearly calls the sender and the one time they do.

You’d told him the night prior about your date, gave him the usual crash course that came with these flings. He made a joke about how you should take advantage of the handsome men in Madrid, even if his heart felt like a giant foot had just smashed it. Because, Carlos reminds himself as he awaits your text again, he’s supposed to be a good friend.

It’s a weird label, friends. It’s a label for a relationship that’s something else entirely. Yeah, he’s your closest friend, but he’s here hoping you don’t pursue a second date. Yeah, you two are best friends, but you sleep in the same bed on cold nights during the season even if there are two in the hotel room.

His phone dings. Went like shit,you text. I’m in a pissy mood :(

Lando would tell him to take the chance while he can, like this is God or whoever giving him a sign to finally try and do it. And Carlos would say no, Lando, we’re just friends even if the younger guy would 100% be right. He swipes on your contact, hovers his thumb over the telephone icon, tries to picture how all this would go.

You’d sigh, pick up in the middle of the third ring, be all I’m okay, Carlos in an effort to save yourself the sympathy, but he isn’t here for sympathy—he’s here to tell you he likes you. In the stronger way, in that way. What? I like you, he’ll insist. Come to mine and I’ll let you know how much.

Think I’ll go for drinks somewhere first Carlito, don’t wait up. He swipes off your contact, texts back OK, and waits for you all night.

—

When you’re a hotshot in Formula 1, you’re bound to be pushed into the face of a myriad of journalists.

There’s clicking, flash, rehearsed questions Carlos still answers. They all ask the same shit, you’d think they all belonged to one magazine. But he braves through it anyway, tries to let the answers vary so he doesn’t sound as robotic as they do. But there are a few questions that have stuck to him.

“I imagine racing is the love of your life,” chirped the journalist, who he could barely see behind the shadow of the huge TV camera beside her. “Would you agree?” He’d hummed, gauging the possible answers: there was the easy yes, which would’ve made a good impression on racing fans seeing him in Toro Rosso for the first time; there was the no, which might’ve been a bit too dicey.

“It’s very important to me, but it’s not the love of my life.” Carlos decided finally, laughing.

“Playing coy, I see!” She exclaimed.

But the truth was, Carlos wasn’t “playing coy.” He really didn’t name racing the love of his life—because there’s only one thing that enters his mind when he thinks of the phrase, and he wished to save the phrase for that and that only. Racing is fast, it’s passionate and rapid fire, but that—it’s so different.

He almost tells you about it a few years later, when he’s exhausted from Ferrari media day and the memory replays in his head. You’re in Asia for work right now, so he hopes the call he’s about to place will go through anyway.

He’s smiling, walking to his car, and line is just about to ring when he realizes—how can he tell you the story, if it means admitting you were the answer?

—

Everyone has high tolerance until it comes to tequila. At least Carlos thinks so—the state he’s in is definitely not sober and Lando, across him, is in even worse shape. They’ve drained a whole bottle at this point, laughing back and forth and dancing to the music at the bar.

“I’m only serving tequila at my future wedding,” belches Lando, wearing a pair of sunglasses neither of them owns.

“Amen.” Carlos squints at the thought of marriage, pulls out his phone and finds your name under the Favorites section of his contacts. The cheeky little shit Lando catches on immediately, whistling a high teasing tune to get under Carlos’ skin.

“I say ‘wedding’ once and already you’re off calling her,” he quips. “I better be best man.”

“We’re just friends,” he slurs, smelling Cuervo on his breath. “You know.”

The line rings once, twice—Carlos opens his mouth and says “Hello? Did you know I…”

He passes out before he gets to the rest of it.

—

The drivers make a night’s trip around the city, and they stop at the Trevi Fountain.

“Throw a coin in and you return to Rome,” Charles says factually, like he’s their tour guide or something.

“Does it allow normal wishes?” Carlos, already amused, presses the phone icon near your name to tell you what he’s up to. The spotty signal slows the call.

“Depends. What are you wishing for?”

“Her.” Lando points at your name on Carlos’ phone.

He hangs up. “A world champion title, actually,” he lies.

—

“Hey Carlito, I’m on my way to the room.”

“With pizza?” Lando hollers into the speakerphone. Carlos laughs and rolls his eyes.

“Yes, obviously,” you say, but your voice is laggy through the phone. You’ve visited them in Italy for the weekend, taking a break from work to meet your best friend again after weeks of being apart. And of course Lando and Carlos sort of came as a package deal these days, so you dealt with him, too.

Carlos takes you off speaker after you say your byes and see-you-soons, pocketing his phone. The Brit doesn’t miss a beat in teasing him. “Dude! Even your voice sounds so down bad, mate.”

“It does not.” Carlos doesn’t even know what down bad means.

“Low it! You’ve loved this girl for how the fuck long and you’re never going to tell her, will you?”

“How do you tell a friend you love them?” Carlos sighs. “It’s—dios mio, it’s difficult. I’m in love with her but it’s a risk to think she feels the same. And”—Lando opens his mouth to protest—“yeah, yeah I know that’s love, I know that’s the whole point, but I couldn’t live with myself if I lost a friend because of these estupido feelings.”

Two raps sound on the door, and he gets up to let you in. “Okay? So shut up.”

Lando watches his friend swing the door open, and sees you on the other side holding up your phone.

AA Carlito, it says, signifying the call was never hung up. You smile. “The feelings aren’t that estupido.”

#f1 #carlos sainz #leclsrc2000 #carlos sainz drabble #carlos sainz imagines #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz fanfic #f1 x reader

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ripleyswrld · 1 year

Note

Hi! I saw your requests open so I ran hahaha. Would you be open to write some angst rhea x reader where reader is super in love with rhea but she has a bf so it's all lost until one night at a party, maybe, rhea tells them she broke up with him because is in love with reader???

I just need a good cry with a sense of hope SLJDJDKS

love your content<3

Tysm for the request!! I loved writing this sm and love the idea 😭

!gif not mine¡

Party Of A Lifetime

You loved Rhea, as much as a person could love anyone. You dreamed of spending your life with her, taking care of her and being with her at every opportunity you got. The only problem was, she had a boyfriend. One she appeared to love and talked about, as much as it broke you. All you wanted and cared about was her happiness, you wanted her to be happy no matter what was at stake for you.

As long as she was happy.

She had just won the smackdown women’s title, you couldn’t have been more proud of her. You called for hours, talking about it and highlighting every moment. Nothing else mattered, you were contented talking to her for as long as she’d wished.

“Listen y/n.” She said on the other side of the phone. “I’m having a party next week to celebrate with my family and a couple of friends, I want you there.”

you smiled at the invite, a thought came to your head. “Will your boyfriend be there?” You asked in a joking tone, but genuinely serious as you knew if he was, you wouldn’t have the best time. “You know, just out of curiosity.”

“why? You jealous?” She asked with a smirk you couldn’t see, but you knew it was there.

“Noooo of course not, don’t be ridiculous.” You chuckled. “I just wanna know who’s gonna be there.”

“uh huh, okay. Okay well I better get some rest.” She told you. “I have a lot to do tomorrow, I’ll see you next week. You better be there.”

“Yeah yeah, I will. Goodnight Rhea.”

You sat alone, upright in your bed. She never did give you an answer if he was going to be there or not. Which left you curious, but you did your best to stop thinking about it.

A week had never went by so slow. It sure took it’s time but it was the day of the party and you were both incredibly nervous and incredibly excited. You loved spending time with Rhea, no matter what it was you were doing. You loved being around her and enjoyed her attention. But on the other hand you had no idea whether her boyfriend would be there or not, she never gave you an answer. You knew if he was there your feeling would change, you only tolerated him for Rhea and for her happiness. It was all you cared about.

“Y/n you’re here!” She was excited, pulling you into a tight hug which you gladly returned.

“Yes, the life of the party has arrived.” You smirked, walking in and closing the door behind you.

She grabbed your hand, pulling you in to join the party. You looked around, her boyfriend seemingly nowhere to be found. “Maybe he’s late?” You wondered. You didn’t bother asking Rhea about it, at least not now. It wasn’t something you needed to be concerned about anyway. “Just enjoy the party.” You told yourself.

It got later into the night, a couple drinks and a few dances later it was just you and Rhea. Sitting on her couch, laughing together about stupid stuff from your past. You loved times like this, all you ever wanted in life was to be with her. She was something special and you knew that.

“I just have to ask you something.” You looked over at her.

“Okay.” She looked back at you, turning to face you. “I’m all ears.”

“Where was he tonight? You said, quieter than the rest of your words. “I wanted to ask earlier I just didn’t think it would be appropriate with everyone else in the room.”

She looked down, her demeanour changed. That’s when you knew something was wrong.

“Hey, is something wrong?” You lightly put your hand on her shoulder. “You know you can always talk to me, I’m right here.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem.” she was quiet.

“What? Did I do something wrong?” You questioned her, if something was wrong you needed to know. All you ever wanted was the best for her.

“No never, you’re perfect. You always have been.” She told you, holding the hand that was on her shoulder. “I loved him y/n I really did. But no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t see a future with him. Nothing lined up the way it was supposed to.”

Loved?

“Rhea what are you getting at here?” You heart was beating, trying to understand what this was about. “Please, tell me.”

“He just wasn’t you, he can’t and couldn’t compare to you.” She grabbed both of your hands now, talking to you in such a passionate way. “I love you y/n, I had to break up with him. Even if you don’t love me back, I knew it was right and what my heart wanted.”

“I love you too Rhea.” Your eyes welled up with tears, this was something you’d always wanted to hear from her. You just had never expected to hear it.

“Can i kiss you?” She asked, her face close to yours to the point you could feel her breath.

You nodded, leaning in for her. She kissed you and you happily returned the favour, her hands came up to cup your face. She took control of it, your face became hot as you let her. You both pulled apart after a few minutes.

this was everything you could ever want and more.

I’m actually answering my inbox now! Requests are still open so feel free to request anything!! <3 ‼️

#rhea ripley #rhea ripley imagine #rhea ripley x reader

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twisted-wonderland-shenanigans · 1 year

Text

MERMAY: Twisted Wonderland Marine Biologist!AU Skit

In honor of Mermay, I’m posting a skit from two new Twisted Wonderland AUs I’ve started working on (and I likely will find more ideas to create more AUs over time), and I’m so happy to share some of the stuff I’ve got with you all~ UvU As you can see by the title, the version today is the Marine Biologist!AU~!

So here in this scene, Yuu has started figuring out their new role as caretaker for a motley group of mermaids that arrived at the facility after their avian guardian (aka Rook) arrived to keep them all together and safe from humans trying to hurt them. Let’s see how their first official week goes~ >v>

Oh, and I forgot to mention this in the poll, but in both AU’s, the mermaids cannot speak human languages and speak in clicks, chirps, trills, and whistles (or squawks in Rook’s case). Each character’s form is based on their nickname given to them by Floyd in game just for clarification! (Crowley in these AU is a manta ray because it has wings, and because we don’t know what Floyd would call him, so I want him to be a manta ray!).

////------------////

A week had passed since the new feeding routine started, the seagull-like harpy they’d started calling “Roo” taking each bucket and passing them to each enclosure while Yuu stood near the cart. While somewhat boring with nothing to do but watch, Yuu reminded themselves that this was the closest anyone had been able to get since the mermaid’s avian guardian appeared. It was also fascinating to watch how, for the most part, he seemed to have a good rapport with the majority of the tanks. They couldn’t help but notice how annoyed Leo seemed whenever Roo got near him though—even when the harpy seemed undeterred and still smiled so cheerfully.

What sort of relationship did those two have in the first place?

‘So many questions…I wish we could communicate with one another,’ Yuu thought, moving to put another bucket on the red ‘x’ when they saw him taking off towards them again. This was the last one and they would be done for the morning feeding.

When Roo landed and swapped the empty bucket with the full one, he stopped to look at the cart with the other upturned buckets. For just the briefest moment, Roo looked…disheartened? Before they could figure out what it could mean, he had already taken flight towards the final tank: the Pom Tank.

‘Wait…are they…getting enough to eat?’ Yuu wondered.

As he landed, they paid close attention as Roo began sorting through the fish, gently passing them to Violet and Guppy when they appeared at the surface. Eventually he took at least three fish for himself before returning the bucket, a calm yet still somewhat weary smile on his human-like face. If he was only taking so little while giving everyone else the rest…

“Pardon?”

“Sir, I really think we should add at least seven more buckets of fish,” Yuu told Mr. Tanner. “I don’t think any of them are getting enough food, and the whole time I was watching them, Roo only took three fish for himself. He looked…disappointed when he was looking at the empty buckets.”

“Wait, who’s Roo?”

“The harpy creature. It…got a little awkward trying to communicate with him or calling him ‘harpy-man’, and he seemed to respond to the name Roo, so…I’ve started calling him Roo...for lack of a better name, anyway.”

“Oh…I see.” The director hummed as he mulled over Yuu’s words. What he was thinking they couldn’t say for sure, and for a moment they worried he might turn down the suggestion…until he nodded. “Okay. I’ll make arrangements with the supply team and have them prepare another cart of fish for tonight’s feeding. You are to report what you observe, and if it seems like they may still need more, we will add more until we find what amount works.”

“T-thank you, sir!”

“No, thank you.” Mr. Tanner’s expression was soft as he smiled at them, reminding Yuu of a grandfather as he said, “We honestly cannot afford to lose these creatures due to our own negligence. No one should ever have to go hungry, whether they’re human, animal, mermaid…or a giant screeching harpy man!”

At that Yuu couldn’t help but laugh, Mr. Tanner’s jovial chuckle joining in. Hopefully their idea will work, and this will put them in good standing with Roo…

“Roo! Feeding time!”

Yuu’s voice echoed in the mostly silent warehouse, mixing with the low thrum of the filters keeping the waters clean and oxygen rich. A flurry of feathers announced Roo’s descent before he landed, talons clicking against the metal floor as he approached the offered bucket as usual. One by one they continued the same routine, Yuu waiting impatiently for him to finish so they could bring out the nest cart.

When he brought back the last bucket—once more carrying three fish and disappointed look in his eyes—he was about to take off before Yuu called out his name. “Wait,” Yuu said, holding their hands up and making a motion they’d used once before. Pointing to where he was standing, they said, “Stay, Roo. Wait.”

Roo’s head tilted as he watched them, yet he stayed put with an expectant stare. Yuu put the last bucket on the cart and wheeled it away, glancing over their shoulder to make sure he stayed there. Their heart hammered in anxious excitement as they reached around the entrance to where the second cart was waiting, seeing Roo tense as they once more repeated the request…before pulling the load around the corner.

The moment he saw the fresh buckets full of fish, Roo’s emerald eyes grew so wide in clear shock and disbelief. It wasn’t until they approached with one in hand that he began crooning and squawking, nearly losing his grip on the three fish he’d had in his arms before dumping them into the fresh bucket. “There you go, Roo,” Yuu said, unable to hold back the biggest smile at the joy he was showing. “I’m sorry we haven’t been feeding you and your friends enough. We didn’t know you needed more than we were giving you. If it’s still not enough, I can talk to the director and get some more buckets…okay?”

The joyful harpy soon calmed down, though his smile never went away as he tilted his head, regarding them with a thoughtful expression. Then, he picked up the bucket—

And promptly deposited it in Yuu’s arms.

“Wha-?!” they uttered, barely managing to get a proper hold on the bucket in question. “Wait, what-?”

Before they could voice any protest, Rook had already picked up another bucket and was holding it in one hand. With his free arm, he gestured towards the tanks and gave Yuu a calm, expectant look.

“…are you…allowing me to help?” Yuu asked, pointing at themselves. To their shock, he nodded, one of his wings reaching out to nudge them forward as he guided them towards the Hearts Tank. It wasn’t until they’d started climbing up the stairs that he took off, fluttering over to one of the other tanks and landing on the platform. To their shock and amazement, several of the mermaids had approached the surface, watching them carefully as they set the bucket down and began tossing some fish into the water.

It wasn’t until Roo called out to them that they slowly began to eat the offered food, giving Yuu a good look at them. The crab-like mermaid had a heart-shaped mark on one eye, while the blue mackerel one had a spade over the opposite eye. The orange mermaid had a diamond on one cheek, and when the golden-eyed turtle appeared they saw a clover marking on the opposite cheek. Card deck markings…? That wasn’t something that the other researchers had been able to note before.

Finally, the red, black, and white mermaid appeared, slate gray eyes observing them with such an intensity that they felt…intimidated. Like they were staring in the face of royalty. Not a king per say, but…a queen maybe?

“Wow…you’re all so…gorgeous,” Yuu couldn’t help but utter in amazement, elated at the fact that they were able to even get this close to them now. Then—realizing that they would have to report this event—they hummed in thought. They were going to have to figure out names for these five just like they had for Roo. So maybe…

“I think I’ll call you…Red Queen,” Yuu finally said, pointing at the red one. “And you are…Diamond. Clover…” A moment later they smiled, adding, “If I call you Turtle Clover, I can nickname you TC! And…you two are going to be…Spade and Ace—like the Ace of Hearts!”

While the others seemed indifferent or confused by this, the moment they mentioned ‘Ace’ they noticed how the crab mermaid seemed to perk up in surprise. Did he somehow recognize the word?

Curious, they called out, “Ace?” To their surprise, he squeaked and chittered up at them, moving closer with a ‘Yeah? What do you want?’ look on his face. “Does…Ace mean something to you?”

He chirped at them in response, looking annoyed as he crossed his arms over his chest in what was yet another very human-like action.

Just how much actually separated the mermaids from ordinary humans…?

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland marine biologist au #twst marine biologist au #rook hunt #vil schoenheit #epel felmer #leona kingscholar #riddle rosehearts #trey clover #cater diamond #ace trappola #deuce spade #if you guys figured out that “TC” is also a nickname for “Trey Clover” you get a cookie!

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letters-from-dekarios · 1 month

Note

{written on pub stationary, stained with aclohol. The hand writing is messy, obviously written in a less than sober state. The paper is creased and crumpled, as though it’s original destination was to be the trash bin. Multiple words are misspelled or crudely scribbled out.}

Dear Dekarriose Dekarios,

I guess youre actual title now is the Wizard of Waterdeep, it may be inappropriate to still simply call you ‘Dekarios’ or ‘Gale’. I still will, change all you want, detest me all you want for it, I cannot change that image I still have of you from our youths.

A cocky bastard smug young man who probably had a good reason for being smug. A learned young wizard who, despite his inherent talents, buried his nose in a million books a second to learn more. I hated you for it back then. I think I hate you for it now.

I don’t know. I’ve never understood it. I never figured out how you could be more with so much inherent magical talent, but not enough to make you a sorcerer. I never understood how you could be more in control of your magic than a sorcerer. I never understood how we could be the same age, and yet when I first started my academic career at Blackstaff you were already finishing yours. I admired you for it, I hated you for it.

I thought you hated me too.

Not hate, that’s not right. I thought you abdhorred disliked me. I thought in some way, it was okay, we were rivals. We had our fun, I cursed you a few times (if you never knew that was me doing it. Sorry.), you explained every spell you knew in such detail I assumed you were being condescending on purpose. I casted spells with ease without trying but I could never learn a new spell. You learned a million new spells but took great effort in casting them. I hated you for your succeeding where I failed. I thought you felt the same.

I question that recently. I have people who hate me now. It’s not the same. If you did hate me, I guess I liked the way you hated me, it was more fun than how I’m hated now. But did you hate me? Were you being condescending, or did you just like to talk about things you found interesting? Do you even remember a word I’m writing down? Do you remember me? I can’t bame blame you if you don’t. It’s been so many years, even I only remember once I’ve reached the bottom of a bottle, but I remember a lot.

I’m reaching the end of the page. I feel I’ve written a lot about nothing, so I guess it’s time I cut to the chase. I do miss our rivalry, our misadventures, our friendship, whatever you’d call it. I miss Gale Dekarios, the smug little bastard that once tried to tutor me. I miss you.

I wish you the best,

Irisa

-~•~-

{set before the events of the game, written by my tiefling Tav, Irisa, a wild magic sorceress who briefly did not know she was a sorceress, thus she briefly tried to learn Wizardry at Blackstaff. It did not go well. In her time there she had a rivalrous relationship with Gale, because the two of them were young and immature, and eventually she was expelled from the academy. Years down the line her life is not great, she’s drunk a lot, misses petty arguments with our favorite wizard, reflects on their time together, and wrote this letter and sent it out when drunk and probably forgot all about it come morning.}

Dearest Irisa,

Your letter, though quite barely decipherable, comes as a bit of a shock for me. I did not expect to receive word from you after so many years, and though I can tell you’re not doing exactly the greatest at the time of writing, I hope you’re well otherwise.

It may shock you to know that, despite how many years it’s been, I do remember you. For all it’s worth, I remember the rivalry between us. Who puts a Wizard and a Sorcerer in the same fold? I’ll never understand how that came to be, but it was an enjoyable few years with you there.

I do get that a lot, the admiration and the hatred all mixed in one. It may do well to understand that I am, or, rather, was one of Mystra’s chosen. Though my abilities as a child were to be challenged, it was all because of her. It’s not every day you have an eight-year-old human practicing magic, and Mystra knew that of me. She’s the only reason why I had such control and understanding, though it helped being quite studious.

Despite it all, I can say I never did hate you. You pushed me to countless new limits, helped me see my oddities and how to work through them, and showed me the intensity of magic on a grander scale than reading books ever could. You brought out the best in me, regardless of our differences.

While I didn’t hate you, I can confidently say I did envy your ease in casting spells. If only I could whisk a spell together that easily! Concentration gets the best of me nowadays, perhaps I should have practiced more of that while at the Academy.

I do sincerely apologize for any condescension you may have felt. I tend to do that at times apparently! It was a genuine interest on my part to have someone who shared a similar understanding with me, and I wanted to tell you of all the worlds we could both accomplish. My mother has quipped it as “Galesplaining”, whatever she intends that to mean.

I remember you completely. All the glory, the joy, the hurt, the failure. It’s ingrained in my mind and I doubt I can ever sand it away. I wouldn’t want to, either. You made my time at the Academy more enjoyable than it had been for years. You changed me, in some of the best ways imaginable.

I can’t deny finding myself at the bottom of a bottle stirring over the past, much like yourself, wondering what I could have changed or done differently. Maybe we could’ve stayed friends, that’s a nice alternate reality to think of.

I miss you, too, Irisa, even if you were the cause of all my misdemeanors and failures when my day started on the wrong foot. I have to know, were you the one who caused my portal home to get so out of shape?

When you’re sober, I implore you to visit my tower in Waterdeep. I’d like to catch up with you, it’s been far too long since we’ve spoken.

From the desk of,

𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒌𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒔

And, for reference, I sort of liked the way you hated me, too.

text reads: gale dekarios

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jamilelucato · 2 years

Text

seeking comfort

pairing: (teen) Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon!reader

summary: a quiet conversation by the beach — really platonic.

words: 720

one shot: yes.

a/n: it's just a conversation that my teenage self would've loved to have with Aegon. **gif not mine

His sudden presence startled her, for she had not paid much attention and did not see him coming.

“My prince,” she said, lowering her head since she could not bow adequately.

“Lady Velaryon,” he replied. To her surprise, he lowered himself, sitting by her side at the beach.

She stayed silent, not knowing what to say. What could be said to a prince — especially the one with so many rumours spreading? She had heard all about his relations with the maids; she noticed his habit of drinking and his aspiration to the Throne; therefore, it was best to stay quiet.

In silence, the teens stayed for at least a couple of minutes. It was only the waves and the wind.

Y/n wondered if he called her Lady Velaryon for a lack of knowing her full name.

She obviously was one of them — she had the hair — but she was just cousins with Lady Laena, the deceased they were there for.

“Do you like here?” he asked her.

His voice sounded hurt somehow.

She thought about his question. Did she? Pantos seemed calm enough, better than the castle, for sure, but y/n had so many privileges in the company of her family and the Targaryens.

“I think Laena didn’t,” she answered, surprising the prince.

“Why would you say so?”

She shrugged and immediately regretted doing so. It was not right to act like that when the royals were around, but Aegon didn’t even notice.

“I do not know, but… I don’t feel like she liked living away from her brother,” the Lady explained.

Aegon, much to her astonishment, listened. “Do you have brothers, m’lady?”

“Not one, I’m afraid,” she stated, but she wasn’t sad. “I have the castle — your family’s — as my whole family now.”

He tried not to, but he couldn’t hold his snort.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he stared deep at the horizon, and Lady y/n watched his gaze.

“I’m not,” she said, only later noticing that she might’ve pealed condescending. “It is less lonely with the Targaryens.”

Aegon smiled, turning back to face the Lady. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

The two didn’t take long to get back to their hush thoughts. Y/n, of course, wondered what could be bothering the Prince, but she didn’t utter a word.

She stared at him, analysing his figure — his nose bridge, silver hair and beautiful eyes. If King, Aegon would be prettier than most of the ones y/n saw.

“Are you okay, my Prince?”

He grunted, not out of impoliteness, but in sudden disgust of his title. “Just call me Aegon,” he said, facing her.

“Well, I’m y/n, in that case,” she smiled, trying to pass a good impression. Had they just become friends?

“Y/n…” he said, testing out her name, “did you ever have to take on responsibilities you did not wish for?”

Y/n pondered. “I am the only alive of my line, even though I’m not the last Velaryon.”

The Prince waited. “But those are normal responsibilities that would’ve ended up taking anyway. So, to answer your question, no, I don’t think I did.”

Aegon and y/n shared a look that lasted longer than she wished. It felt like it meant a lot, but when Aegon looked away, it was all forgotten.

“If you ever happen to, please, come to me,” he said, swallowing hard. “Perhaps by then, I’ll know best, and I shall be able to give you some advice.”

“Did you seek my advice, my… sorry, Aegon?” she asked. He did not answer. Instead, he got up, cleaned his pants and looked one last time at y/n, who didn’t clearly understand his last word to her — goodbye? See you around? — because it didn’t matter. All she could think of was his eyes, his expression — how that second there, with him, standing, and her, sitting, represented all they could ever get to be.

She was below him. They weren’t friends. It was naive of her to have believed in that.

So she watched him leave. The Prince did not want to be King, not that day. Would he in the future actually be able to give her some advice? Who knew. All she could do was hope that, when the day comes, his offer would still be standing.

#house of the dragon #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #velaryon reader #daemon targaryen #house of targaryen #hotd #hotd fic

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l0ve-bug-m1les · 11 months

Text

Spider-Band With a S/o Who Hyperfixates on Things Hard

Miles Morales, Hobie Brown, Gwen Stacy, and Pavitr Prabhakar (separate) x Gn!Reader

Warnings: None! (Except my attempt at British talking—)

Summary: Really what the title says—

A/n: This is actually an idea i had when i first fell into the spider verse fandom but didn’t have anyone to talk to about it. Glad ya’ll picked this one! Enjoy!! Also lmk if any of ya’ll wanna be on a tag list!! I know i don’t write all that much but still—

Miles Morales 🌻🎧🌻

Bby is here for it

Always listening to what you have to say and never complaining

I have a feeling he’d be just as excited as you even if he’s got no clue what you’re talking about

He’d try to get into your interests with you no matter how outlandish they may seem

(I mean he’s basically a spider what’s so weird about fnaf lore—)

Definitely draws you things based off of the subject

“You said they were your favorite, right?”

Is always sending you memes and funny videos about your interest

Asks you for updates on your interest if it’s a series

Holds you when something bad happens and you’re sad

“Shh, shh…Hey, at least they existed, right?—Oh, no that made it worse—“

Going back to rambles, he’s always listening but maybe not always looking at you

But trust me

That boy could recite what you say perfectly

He just likes to listen while he works or draws

Has definitely made a mural of you and him in the world together (used it as a date spot. It’s true, he told me)

Overall

20/10 boyfriend

(I mean they all are but like—)

Hobie Brown 🎸⚡️🎸

Will spend hours learning songs related to your interest

But then he’s like

“What? Oh, i been knowin’ this song, luv. What’re ya on about?”

Say for instance, you dive deep into an artist or band

Obviously, Hobie’s gonna ask you about them

But would never ask you for your favorite songs because he’s “Too busy writing his own”

So he just pays really close attention to the songs you talk the most about

(As i previously stated, he learns them all and plays it off)

When you figure it out he’s just like:

“Took ya long enough, luv”

He also listens to your rants about whatever it is (much like Miles and everyone else here but shhh)

But here’s why he stands out

This man can keep up

He can and will remember all about it, and basically know about much as you do

Steals things from stores that are from the series or whatever it is

“Hobie, how’d you get this?” “It was on display and i knew you’d love it.” “Wow! I thought you didn’t buy things from brands..” “…” “You stole it…”

You’re too busy loving whatever it is to stay mad

(But we all knew you weren’t mad)

If you think your interest is cringey then you’re WRONG

“But it’s for kids—“ “And? So what?” “Well…uhm….hm.” “Yeah. Thought so. Now keep goin’, I’m invested.”

(But also in general, bby. Love what you love and come to me if anyone says it “weird” or “cringey”. I’ll beat them up bestie<33)

All in all, a king<33

Gwen Stacy 🩰🥁🩰

I’m gonna be honest

She is lost

Even if you go over things twenty times she still won’t get it

And that’s okay!

She takes notes and tries to keep up

Definitely proud of herself when she gets a detail right

“And then—“ “Wait, wait. Let me guess…He…he burned the pizzeria down, right” “Uhm—yeah, actually!” “*insert proud face*”

(Woah look at the trans flag colors^^^)

Definitely binge watches or reads your interest and learns as much as she can

She keeps a notebook full of her notes that she refers back to whenever you two are on call

She played it off as writing down some notes for school

But one day, she asked you to grab her suit from inside her drum set, and you found the notebook

It caught your eye because it had the name of your interest on it and you were like:

“Hey, Gwen? What’s this?” You showed her the notebook

I wish you could see my vision

When i tell you Gwen stood there for a good minute

I mean she stood there for several

Anywho

She just admitted to it and was all red and fidgety

Since this is her world, she was cast in mostly pink and red hues and the space around her fluttered yellow

You end up going through it with her, and talk about your favorite bits

Overall? She deserves several gold stars and cookies

Pavitr Prabhakar 🍵☀️🍵

Bby is here for it

Whenever you get excited he’s excited

When you’re on the verge of tears he’s already crying

He is your favorite character’s number one supporter

He’s always going on and on with you about your interests

Because unlike the others, he manages to actually get into whatever it is you’re talking about and not just keep up

It’s honestly a skill of his

I feel like Pav also has special interests that he dives deep into

Deep deep

Same as you so you two get along well :D

He’s always looking for the newest content and sending it to you always

“Hey! They said the next episode would be released next Tuesday!! :DDD” “There’s a new theory for the last volume!”

It’d be cute if that’s how you met and became friends

You spend sleepovers diving into your shared and separate interests with eachother

You know what’d be funny?

If he also info dumps onto the villains he fights

Hear me out

Pav tying up a villain who tried to rob a place and just going

“Yeah, so me and my partner have a theory for why—“

And the villain is just like

Stfu??????

But they’d never say that because it’s Spider-Man

All in all, your number one hype man and best friend :]

———————————-

YA’LL I DID IT :DD

#i literally just sat down #opened tumblr #and boom #ya’ll #spider man: across the spider verse #miles morales #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #headcanon #pavitr prabhakar #gwen stacy #gn reader #Love ya’ll<333 #spider-man across the spiderverse x reader #miles morales x reader #hobie brown x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #gwen stacy x reader

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wetsnifflesneeze · 2 months

Text

F/F STORY

Girlfriends! Cold! Caretaking! That sums it up.

Btw, I’m really not a writer. I don’t even have a title for this.

……………………………………………………………………….

Although she did have allergies she could tell by the afternoon that this was more serious, her temples and head were starting to ache and she just felt exhausted. So it was a cold. I can handle it, no big deal she thought. Although she did feel slightly deflated about it since she was visiting her girlfriend tonight. It felt overdramatic to cancel because of a cold. As the day went on the minor headache got worse until just about everything was hurting. It was definitely too late to cancel now, she was already on the way to Harper’s house. She sighed, walking through the crisp air wishing she could be feeling better. She blows her nose before texting Harper she’s outside, hoping she might be able to hide her cold for at least the first while.

Harper opens the door with a big smile, kisses her, and pulls her inside. “Come in love, it’s freezing out”

“Yeah, it is” Bella agreed, she cringed slightly at her voice still sounding a bit congested despite the fact she’d just blown her nose. The warm air in Harper’s house was already making her irritated nose tickle. “Huh.. hh.. NNgTSSHHHOO” an absolutely futile attempt at stifling, she was still in Harper’s embrace but managed to turn away slightly and sneeze towards her shoulder. She had to sniffle deeply afterwards, her nose as congested as ever already.

“Awww bless you baby, did you catch a cold?”

“Yeah.. *Sniffle* it was fine this morning but, I really don’t feel good now.. m’sorry I sneezed on you” she added shyly, blushing a bit. She sniffled miserably, quickly realising there was no use in trying to hide how she felt. Her cold was far too obvious already.

Harper gently cupped her cheeks in her hands as well as feeling her forehead, she pouted and made a sympathetic noise. “Oh darling, you should have told me you weren’t feeling well” she says, her voice laden with sympathy but Bella in her self conscious state somehow misinterpreted it.

“Uhm yeah sorry I probably shouldn’t have come over *sniff*”

“No silly, I don’t mean like that. I’m a pharmacist I could’ve just grabbed you some medicine before I left work. I always want you to come over.”

“Oh! right” Bella smiled dumbly “I honestly didn’t even think of that.”

Harper knew Bella came from a less than empathetic family so it did make some sense to her why Bella would’ve tried to pretend she was fine.

“Well, we’re here now and I do have some paracetamol we can use for your fever. Just make yourself comfy on the couch okay darling, I’ll be right back”

“Okay *sniffle* umm Harper could we light the fire? I feel really cold.”

“Of course we can, and by WE I just mean me, I don’t want you to do anything except rest.”

Bella flopped down onto the couch straight away, instantly sinking into the comfort. She felt so weak but she knew she could just rest now and her girlfriend would take care of her.

Harper took in the sight of her girlfriend curled up on the couch. She was pale and still shivering a little bit. Her caretaking instincts took over immediately. Tonight was no longer for drinking wine together and doing other things she had planned. Bella’s breath gets shaky and she takes hurriedly takes out a tissue from her pocket, which clearly had been used too many times already, she held it all balled up to her nose and it did nothing to contain the “hehTSSSSHOOO!” that tumbled out. Harper just smiled fondly, she somehow looked incredibly cute.

“Bless you sweetheart, here I got you some tissues.” She takes one out of the box and hands it to the younger girl.

Bella took the tissue and blew her nose as politely as she could manage before putting the tissue back beside her on the couch. “Sorry, disgusting.” She said, using as few words possible.

“Don’t apologise sweetheart, and you’re not being disgusting at all, not in the slightest.” She gently rubbed the sick girls back in reassurance. “Here, I brought you something more comfortable to wear” she produced a hoodie, very thick and warm. It seemed almost new. “Oh, thanks” Bella slowly got up into a sitting position wincing as she did so. If she had any energy she would’ve argued that the hoodie was too nice just for her to get her snot and germs all over it. But she submissively allowed Harper to help her put it on. Her girlfriend covered her over with a blanket afterward.

“Okay that’s better. Poor baby, I know everything hurts right now. Here, take these painkillers they should help you in a bit. I’m sorry it’s not going to be instant but just hang on for a while okay, try to get some sleep” she gently stokes her face and kisses her forehead and lips. “Kay.” The weak monosyllabic response told Harper everything she needed to know about how the sick girl was feeling. She fell asleep feeling the older woman’s hands slowly massaging her head where it hurt, and her shoulders and back.

While Bella slept Harper ordered them some food including her usual favourite but just some chicken ramen for Bella. Much blander than what she usually preferred to eat but this wasn’t a usual night.

Bella woke up a couple hours later after Harper shifted on the couch to get their food. She was a bit disoriented at first, they had been dating for a few months but she wasn’t particularly used to waking up from a deep sleep on this couch. She shivered and whined a bit. Everything was still hurting. Almost instantly after waking up her nose started running again, she grabbed a tissue before it got down to her lips, as soon as the tissue touched her nose it started to tickle “TSSSHHHH”

She was just about to remove the tissue from her face when she glanced up as Harper got back with their food. “Hi sleepyhead” she smiled at her indulgently.

“Hey” Bella replied quietly. Still sounding sleepy and dazed.

“How was your nap?” Harper asked as she sat down on the couch and guided Bella into her lap.

“Good, I really needed that”

“Yeah? Are you feeling a little better?” Harper inquired, one eyebrow slightly raised.

“Honestly no” Bella shook her head. She shivered a little, proving she still had a fever.

“Poor little thing, this cold seems pretty nasty huh?”

“AIIISSSSHHHOO… Mhmm” Bella equally agreed and moaned at the same time.

“I’m so sorry love, I thought you’d feel better after a little nap.”

“KSSTTTTTCCIEW… ugh… nDot your fault.” Bella replied, kind of unsure what to say. She really wasn’t used to anyone feeling sorry for her. Her voice sounding so deeply congested it was almost hard to understand what she was saying. She sniffled and sniffled again, and again.

Harper knew she was self conscious about blowing her nose in front of her so she didn’t push it. Instead she kissed her neck and soothingly rubbed her back. Bella nestled her head in the spot between Harper's neck and chest and sniffled again.

“How do you feel about chicken ramen, do you like it?”

“I do…” Bella’s voice trailed off.

“But... you’re not hungry, right?” Harper guessed.

Bella quietly raised her arm to try sneezing into the elbow, her head ducking down towards Harper’s lap “hehTSHHHCHEW *gasps* HahTTScchiew… TTTCHIEW”

“nDo, nDot hungry” *SNNNF* “ugh” Bella sighed clearly frustrated that she had to blow her nose.

“That’s okay darling, I thought as much. Bless you” she kissed her cheek. “It would be great if you could just eat a tiny bit, a few spoons. I don’t like the idea of giving you more medicine on an empty stomach. Please? For me?”

Bella just nodded her head, smart enough to know it would be useless trying to argue with Dani about this - as much as she wanted to. Maybe she was acting a bit like a brat but she couldn’t help it.

“Good girl, and then we’ll go to bed where you can get some proper rest.” They got into bed shortly afterward. Harper was naked. She guided Bella, wearing just the hoodie now, to rest on top of her. Bella sighed, contentedly this time. It felt good feeling her girlfriend’s soft skin, feeling her warmth, unfortunately she couldn’t smell her perfume right now but she knew she smelt amazing, she always did. Bella felt like an absolute mess in comparison.

“Sorry I’m not fun tonight” she said, as a way of trying to apologise for well, everything about her current state.

Harper’s soft sigh followed by “Baby, I don’t expect you to be fun all of the time.” Soothed her a bit. She continued “I know this isn’t how we normally spend our nights together, but I really love being able to take care of you like this.” She gently slipped a hand down to Bella’s lower back and gently rubbed it. Kissing her again on the forehead.

Bella sniffled, her nose tickled and she felt a sneeze coming but with Harper’s arms were wrapped tightly around her it was hard to move. She tried to sit up, but Harper didn’t let go. “What’s wrong love, you not comfy?” She asked

“I n’deed to sneeze..”

“It’s okay baby, you can sneeze on me”

“AhTISSHIEW”

“Good girl” Harper praised her, feeling her girlfriend’s warm breath against her chest as a tickly sneeze exploded out.

“HITCCSHHIEW”

“Bleeesss you, darling”

Harper praised her again with that sultry voice. That combined with the way her hand was placed on her lower back honestly would’ve turned her sick girlfriend on had she not felt like she’d been hit by a bus. She could, however, still appreciate the attention the older woman was showering her with and it did feel good.

“HAAIIIPPPPSHHTTTTIEW! ugh *SNRF* fuck”

Harper instinctively knew Bella needed a tissue, it was a particularly messy sneeze “It’s okay my baby, I got you” She pulled a couple tissues from the box and cleaned up her girlfriend’s upper lip. Before asking ”Will you blow for me?”

Bella didn’t say anything but obediently gave a hearty blow into the tissue being held around her nose.

“There we go, that’s a bit better. My poor sneezy baby”

“Love you.” Bella mumbled softly, still exhausted.

“I’m so in love with you, Bella”

Shortly after they both drifted off to sleep.

#snzbian #snzfucker #coldfucker #snz kink #cold sneezes #snzblr

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architect-2015 · 11 months

Text

WWE 24 Specials - Returning Home.

After many years on the sideline from a severe neck injury, this WWE 24 specials shows Kailani ‘Anoa’i’ Silva’s return the the squares circle.

Raw 2017

“You know, sometimes no matter how much you love something and how much you dedicate your life, your body and your soul to it, things don’t always turn out the way you want. Wrestling is my lifeline, your support and energy is what keeps my blood pumping, your love and dedication runs through my veins. You guys are the reason i’m here.”

Kailani’s voice cracks, a silence washes over the once overjoyed crowd.

“Truth be told i haven’t had the easiest life before reaching the WWE and i’m gonna be 100% honest, my real name is Kailani Anoa’i: i’m a mother, a wife, a sister, a daughter and a WWE Superstar. You guys have seen a lot of my life, a lot of my early life from when i was part of something called Total Divas, that was one hell of a ride, but there was always one part of my life i kept away from the screen and that was my medical background.

I’ve tried so hard to preform my best for you but to also be able to do simple things, play with my children, go sightseeing with my friends, cook a dinner for my husband but i can’t do that anymore. I’ve recently had an MRI for a problem in my neck and i’ve been told that if i carry on the way i am now, i won’t be able to do anything at all. My love for this company, this job, this industry is infinite and i cannot thank you enough for all the support you have shown me and if you would ask me if i would do this all again, i would say in a heartbeat.

so thank you for everything, and god bless you all.”

The clip changes over to a heartwarming scene of Lani and her family: Herself, Joe, Alina and Malo. The children sit on top of a storage crate whilst the couple stand in each others embrace.

“Baby girl, we’re gonna get through this. You’ll have your surgery and i’ll be there for you in every form i can be at any time you need. You’ll be okay.” Joseph comforts his wife who is stood before him in hysterics, she had just come off the biggest title defence of her career against Charlotte Flair at Wrestlemania 33.

The next shot shown is a backstage interaction between Paul Heyman and Kailani. A hug is shared between the adults as a whispered conversation i’d taking place.

“You’re not alone.”

A sob racks through Lani’s body, seeing this Paul only pulls the 30 year old closer.

“i’m gonna check in on you everyday, you don’t even have to respond.”

“You will never be alone Kailani”

Interviews

“So tell me about Kailani”

Triple H: “Kailani Silva is one of the most dedicated, safest and most passionate women I’ve had the honour to mentor. She’s incredible and her career will definitely be one that will continue to be spoken about”

Charlotte Flair: “Lani will always be my favourite person to work with, we have made history in that ring and i owe a lot of my career to her.”

Jey Uso: “That’s my little sister man, i mean she’s my family. I ain’t never seen anyone else do it like she does it”

Paul Heyman: “I’ve been with the Anoa’i family for 40+ years and since Kailani joined, she just… she the kind of person that you gravitate towards. She has done so much for the women of this company because that’s the kind of person she is. She’s a giver, and she gave it all for the WWE. I will forever be proud of her.”

Roman Reigns: “There’s no amount of words i could string together to describe Kailani, she is the most selfless woman i know, she the best mother and wife i could have ever wished for and she of one of the best if not THE best woman to ever preform in that ring. I know she’ll get through this.”

“Kailani, how are you feeling?”

Kailani Silva: “I’m good you know, you’re all acting like you’ll never see me again. I promise i’m feeling good, i know it’s what’s best for me and my future but just know that i’m not disappearing.”

For the next five years Kailani spent every waking moment doing whatever she could to be the best version of herself possible. Rehab after surgery, physio therapy, training her own body and new up and coming talent at the PC.

SMACKDOWN BEFORE WRESTLMANIA 38 (segment)

Kayla Braxton walks up to a door, one simple sign is placed up front and centre

‘Roman Reigns’

a delicate knock sounds around the locker room, Paul Heyman immediately throws open said door and scurries out, closing it behind him.

“Yes Kayla?”

“Paul, you and the Head of the table Roman Reigns have both stated recently for Brock Lesnar to watch his back, is this a hint towards outside help from the Usos during the unification match?”

“Kayla, when a man like Roman Reigns is your Head Of The Table, The Tribal Chief, you need to understand that a man of that power stands on his own too feet, he needs no help from The Usos to beat a beast incarnate. That being said anyone who has a problem with Brock has an opportunity to take a hit, and one person jumps to mind. Roman Reigns will leave as the WWE Undisputed Universal Champion. That’s a spoiler, not a promise.”

DAY OF WRESLTEMANIA 38

A black, tinted windowed van pulls up into the parking lot of the AT&T Stadium, a black bloodline shirt clad figure walks up to the door, opens it and is immediately met by a short, brown haired women. Lifting them into a hug, two children follow the lady’s steps, also met by a warm embrace from the man.

The couple, trailed by their children walk further into the bus, closing the door.

MAIN EVENT

ROMAN REIGNS VS BROCK LESNAR

Brock currently has Roman in a kirmura lock when a theme song, that hasn’t been played in five years, engulfs the arena sound system.

The pop from the crowd is deafening, this shock give Roman the time to grab the rope, break away from the submission move and create some distance.

“COLE, ITS KAILANI, ITS KAILNAI SILVA ROMAN REIGNS’ WIFE SHES BACK IN THE WWE!”

“Kailani Silva hasn’t been seen inside of a WWE ring since she retired due to a neck injury in 2017!”

“Lani is back after five years! She’s back and is running down the ramp to her her husband!”

Roman distracts the ref, pointing towards his shoulder whilst his wife slides into the ring, steal chair in hand and begins a beat down on Brock. Once the beat down had concluded, Lesnar stands up only to be met by a spear from Reigns.

“Reigns has done it! A returning Kailani Silva helps her husband cement his WWE Legacy!”

The wresltemania show closes out with the couple sharing a kiss, and Roman Reigns standing victorious, two WWE title belts in his grasp.

The shots change to a back stage view, Kailani and Joe walking back through the curtain greeted by a round of applause.

“That’s what i’m talking about Uce!” Jonathan Fatu’s voice projects over the sound of claps.

The Bloodline, now stood in one circle, all share a group hug. Words of affirmation shared between all members.

“Welcome back lil’ sister, what a way to make a come back!”

“Aye you put that beast in the ground!”

“I’m so proud of you”

“We did it y’all, The Bloodline is on top”

“Wait the Bloodline ain’t on top yet, Miss Flair better watch her back cuz i want that title”

FINAL INTERVIEW

“So you want the Smackdown women’s championship?”

“What kind of question is that Corey, of course I do i mean my family is on top, Trinity is one half of the women’s tag team champs, Jon and Josh are smackdown tag team champions, Joe is the new WWE Undisputed Universal Champion and i’ve worked by ass off for the last five years, defied all odds to get back here so hell yeah i wanna have gold around my waist. Im gonna continue to work my ass off until i get it and anyone who gets in my way is gonna get put down and pinned.”

“The Anoa’i family has dominated this company for decades and we will continue to do so for many years to come.”

“Well on behalf of all of the WWE Universe, welcome home.”

“Thank you Corey, it’s good to be back.”

#wwe x reader #wwe x you #roman reigns fic #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x female reader #roman reigns fanfiction #wwe fanfiction

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2012wannabe · 11 months

Text

untitled

wc: 1658

cw: f!reader x abusive bf, physical/emotional abuse, Abby takes care of reader

an: tbh I don’t really like this nor do I have a title. I might add some pics like I usually do later but all in all not that great 🥴🥴 if y’all have feedback or a title feel free to lmk

Notes for my fanfiction

“Hey- what’s that on your neck?” Abby asked. Your mind flailed for something to say, you weren’t expecting her to show up at your door.

“It’s nothing. What happened? Did someone drop out of night patrol?”

“That’s unimportant now. It looks like you have bruises on your neck.”

“Just from fighting.” Please buy it, please buy it. Abby’s eyes narrowed.

“You don’t look so good, can I just check it?” You swallowed and let her in, hands shaking slightly.

“It’s all good I promise.” Abby moved the cloth of your sweater to reveal more bruising forming handprints.

“Fuck you have literal hand prints on your neck, why didn’t you go to the infirmary for this?”

“It’s nothing.” You said weakly.

“Did someone hurt you?”

“No.” Your brain was spiraling, the stress, sleep deprivation, and your injury all starting to compound at once.

“If it was infected, why didn’t you just go get it checked out? No one would have questioned it, but you hid it.” Abby pressed, her worry growing.

“He didn’t mean it, okay!” You snapped. Oh fuck.

“He didn’t mean it?” She said incredulously, immediately figuring out who ‘he’ was. Her heart was in her shoes and she fought the urge to just scoop you up in her arms.

“Yeah, we’re fine now.”

“Fine? Have you seen yourself?”

“Yup.” You said weakly.

“At least let me look at it, get you ice and pain meds.”

“Ok.” You sighed. Abby examined the bruising,

“When did this happen?”

“Last night.”

“I can tell. Let me get some stuff, don’t leave.” You trembled as she left, wanting to cry. She returned just as quick as she left, applying ice to the worst of the bruises.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it, now tell me about this person who left those marks on your neck.”

“I think you know.”

“Yeah, I do. But I’m asking anyway. Why are you still with him?”

“He’s fine, it was my fault anyway. I’m trying to be better.”

“It’s not your fault!” Abby said raising her voice suddenly. You flinched causing her heart to drop even more. Muttering an apology, she continued.

“He’s been putting you through hell and here you are trying to be better for him. He doesn’t deserve you.” You stuttered and searched for words but could only come up with a pathetic sounding,

“Really?”

“Yes, really. So please stop blaming yourself for his actions. They are all on him.”

“He always says it my fault.”

“And that’s what he wants you to believe. Because deep down inside he knows he messed up big time.” You blushed and muttered a thanks feeling embarrassed. She fixed your hair behind your ear and gently held your face.

“He hurt you, and he needs to pay for that.” Abby said sweetly.

“Can you stay with me a little bit?”

“Of course.” She said, looking at you love with overwhelming love in her eyes. Abby loved you with her whole heart and soul and though she would never admit it she despised your boyfriend and achingly wished it was her you were with. She kept her feelings to herself because she valued your friendship too much and seeing what he did to you just made her heart shatter into a million pieces. She knew she couldn’t make you leave him, that that had to be a decision you made on your own but she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to be holding your hand every step of the way. You reached forward and hugged her, sinking into her embrace.

“I’ll take care of you today, okay.” Abby said sweetly. You nodded.

“I don’t deserve your kindness.” You said softly and quietly.

“Oh honey, you deserve more. But seriously, you need to leave him. And if there’s anything at all you need help with, I’ll help you. Just let me know okay?” You nodded and thanked her.

“It’s nothing really, you should go lay down and rest.” Abby said.

“He’s going to be back from his assignment soon, can I stay the night with you?” You said, biting your lip.

“Absolutely.” Abby said. She brought you back to her room and showed you where everything was. You started to walk toward her bedroom but stopped to say,

“This might sound dumb but can you lay with me?” You asked with your head down. Your mind chastised you for wanting affection, being so needy as to ask. But Abby wasn’t like him.

“Of course, whatever you need.” She said following you into bed. Slipping off her shoes, she laid next you hooking her strong arm around your waist and holding you close. Using her other hand, Abby stroked your hair and admired you. You looked so peaceful sleeping. It wasn’t long before you both drifted to sleep.

When morning came, Abby awoke to an empty bed and worry started to form in her chest. She looked around for you and her heart dropped again when she realized you must have gone back to where you and your boyfriend lived.

Approaching your door, she winced hearing him yell through the door. Raising her hand to bang on the door she braced herself for what was going on behind the door. You opened the door and her heart broke again. You were disheveled and quite frankly looked like you were about to cry.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

“I just didn’t want him to worry when he came home to an empty room. He’s a little upset right now but it’ll be okay.” Abby knew it wouldn’t be okay and forced herself through the doorway. One of the perks of being Issac’s right hand man, no one wanted to fuck with you. He approached the both of you and asked,

“Hey Abby. What’s going on?”

“Nothing… I just wanted to check on the both of you.” His features morphed into a confused expression and you could immediately tell what he was thinking.

“Well everything is fine.” He said grabbing you by your side, pretending you didn’t wince when he did so.

“Do you mind if I grab her for a bit? Just need some help downstairs. Got a few people at the wall.” She lied. There were people at the wall but getting you out was her priority. He looked like he wanted to decline but he couldn’t say no so he reluctantly let you go. Leaving down the hall going into her room she said,

“Did he hit you again? You winced when he grabbed your side.” You looked down to avoid her eyes and she said,

“I think you know what I’m going to say.”

“I don’t know, it’s just a lot and I really do care about him.”

“He tried to strangle you. What if he didn’t stop and he killed you?

“I want to say he would never do that but I can’t. He was always so kind to me, you know? And then all of a sudden he wasn’t. He started to yell at me, and then he started to hit me. I tried talking to him about it but he won’t stop.”

“You realize that that’s abuse right?”

“Yeah but-“

“There are no buts.” Abby said trying to contain her anger. You deserved so much better than that disgusting man.

“But he says he loves me and that I mean the world to him. I can’t give that up.”

“Would you hit someone you love?” She asked.

“Well,” you tried to respond.

“Would you?”

“No.” You said quietly.

“You’re going to have to break up with him then.” She said firmly.

“What if I love him?”

“Do you want to spend the rest of your life with someone who hurts you?”

“No.” You say, your voice getting even smaller.

“Then you know what you need to do. You deserve someone who’ll never even think about putting their hands on you. Never ever.” You smiled a small smile and let your hand interlock with hers.

“I’ll make sure you’ll never see him again, okay?”

“Thank you Abs.”

“Always. Is it okay if I get Mel or Nora for your side?”

“Mel, please.” You said, sitting on her couch.

“Okay.” Abby turned to leave but you stopped her suddenly.

“What happened?”

“Can I show you something?” You said suddenly getting very nervous and picking at the skin on your thumb.

“Yeah, of course.” You nod and start to take off your pants to reveal horrendously dark bruising on your legs going up to your crotch with cuts littering the space. Abby gasped and was so horrified she could cry.

“Oh my god…” You looked down.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’ll get you all the help you need, okay?” Before you can respond, there is a knock on the door and you jump. You scramble to decide whether to show Mel or not but the look on Abby’s face gives you your answer. You go to talk but you just burst into tears uncontrollably. You slump on the couch and hide your face as she lets Mel in. You look up at Abby and Mel and Mel’s jaw just drops looking at you. You start to cry again as Mel starts to work on your wounds and Abby holds your hand the entire time.

“What happened to her?” Mel asks going to get more supplies. Abby explains and Mel’s face drops. Mel continues to treat your injuries and Abby stays by your side the entire time. When Mel eventually leaves, you and Abby sit in silence for a bit.

“You okay?”

“I will be.” You say as Abby gives you a comforting hug.

“I’m gonna break up with him.” You whisper in her ear still hugging her muscular body.

“I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“Thank you. So much. For everything.”

“Still it’s nothing. I love you.” You smile.

“I love you too.” She releases you from her embrace and asks,

“Want to stay here again tonight?”

“Please.”

#eliwrites #abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson fic #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x you #abuse cw #domestic violent relationships #physical abuse #emotional abuse #hurt/comfort

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anyotherwriter · 2 years

Text

Ask Me Again

For a request from @bringinsexybackk69 -- “Before the ZA, Y/N was a tattoo artist before the ZA and she met Daryl because she did the artwork on his back (the angel and demon). She met him through Merle (after publicly turning him down in front of a bunch of his army buddies) and after a couple years her and Daryl got married. Fast forward to the ZA, maybe one kids at the prison from WoodBury asks how they met while Y/N is giving the kids “temp” tattoos with some washable markers / letting the kids fill in her tattoos with the colored markers she found on a run.”

I hope you like it, I think it’s pretty cute!

okay, love you, bye.

************************

You made sure to stay as still as you could, sitting well the way you had many times before. It wasn’t a foreign feeling to have someone’s hands on you, or to be completely okay with it while filling your arms and your legs with painful, colorful artwork. You couldn’t begin to recount the number of hours you’d spent with needles and ink wells and the smell of disinfectant and latex mingling in the air, but you couldn’t deny that it was one of the things you missed the most. There was a heavy feeling of longing in your chest for that good pain that left behind nothing but beauty. Oftentimes you wished you were smart enough to engineer another machine, to fabricate that electric buzz that would typically over take the music in the shop you used to work at.

For now, the small hand wrapped around your bicep and the other holding a blue marker and coloring in the blank spaces would have to do.

"I wish I had more colors." The boy, around ten or eleven, said to you as he focused heavily on the way the felt of the marker tip glided across your skin, filling in the outline of the rose you had just gotten before everything went to hell.

"I always keep an eye out for more when I'm out there." You said with a small smile, remembering the success you felt when you found an orange marker that had rolled under a metal shelf in an old mechanic shop, only to uncap it and find it bone dry and crusted. "Maybe I'll ask Daryl to keep an eye out, too."

It was a simple suggestion, one you put out into the world without thinking it was odd or an intimidating thing to do. You were aware that most people at this prison, especially the folks that found refuge here from Woodbury, felt that Daryl wasn't the one to do personal favors. They were off put by the sneer he wore on his face most times, let alone the actions he displayed when he was angry in the snap of a finger. Recently, though, he seemed to level out. He was calmer, albeit more flighty and itching to leave the prison gates whenever people would attempt to speak to him- he was still trying.

"How did you meet Daryl?" The boy said, his voice quieter than before. It was a question that you'd been asked before, and a question you often didn't answer. Not because you didn't want to talk about it; you mostly wanted to respect Daryl in that he had no interest in telling anyone about himself and his life and you. Back at the Quarry, he was upset that you offered up as much as you did to the group, telling Shane and Lori that Daryl knew how to hunt, that you wanted to join the larger group for protection in numbers, that you and Daryl were married.

None of it was ever a secret, not by any means. Daryl didn't care if everyone knew he could hunt and hold his own, he didn't care about wanting safety in numbers- because that was a good call. What he cared about was the odd looks that you received when attaching yourself to him in such an intimate title. You were his wife, and in a world that would find itself full of lawless thieves and murderers, you were now his weakness and a target by association.

His fears in this new, broken world were similar to his fears of the past world. The way he voiced them to you in the tent the following evening after the group had settled, you could hear the apprehension and the fear in his voice he wouldn't admit was there. Since then, you promised him you wouldn't say anything he wouldn't.

It wasn't until recently, when Rick opened the gates to the people of Woodbury, that Daryl introduced you to someone new as his wife, something he had only done a handful of times since you'd gotten married. It was a sign that he was comfortable and felt that you were safe.

But he hadn't always been so sure.

"How we met?" you let out a deep exhale, making sure not to jostle your arm as the boy switched from the blue marker to the green. "You trying to get that one out of me again?"

"Daryl told me that I should ask you one more time." The boy smiled as he followed the lines of the empty leaves around the now blue rose. You would've thought that he was lying, but when you looked across the yard to where Daryl was propped up onto a table, he was already looking at you with a humored smile of his own.

When you met Merle and his Army buddies, you knew that he wouldn't make it too far. He was loud and boisterous to a fault. He wanted to fight anything that moved and believed that the world owed him something extraordinary. His buddies were no different. They would rock up into the tattoo shop you started to apprentice at, cause a bunch of trouble, and get high before sitting for the most cliché flash designs off the walls. You were able to fly under the radar and miss detection from them a few times, but one night, one of his buddies had seen a small flash of you as you tried to make a beeline to the bathroom for some reprieve from the noise.

"Hey, you!" Was all the guy had said, followed by the heavy footfalls of his boots. You hoped that maybe you could get away from him, make him believe it was just a hallucination from the high. But you weren't quick enough and his large hand locked around your elbow and pulled you back. "Where've they been hidin' you?"

"Leave her alone!" The familiar timber of your mentor's voice barked through the shop, followed by warnings of kicking their whole damn crew out if he had to. "She ain't doin' no business for you."

The hand didn't let go of you as fast as you would've liked and you weren't surprised by the red marks his fingers had left behind, either.

"Ladies like her ain't gonna put out for someone with such an ugly mug like you!" Merle yelled then, arrogance lacing his voice as he winked at you. "She's lookin' for a real man."

And you were convinced after that evening that there were no real men worth searching for around this town. You thought maybe this place would be different than where you grew up, maybe more friendly and accepting and welcoming; it ended up being more of a lateral move, not an upgrade. You'd sit in the back corner at a desk with chipping veneer and practice on the pig skins that your mentor bought from a butcher down the street for a reduced fee and mind your business. You'd work on your line work and your shading, all the while keeping an eye on every mouthy man that walked in the front door wanting to know what they could get for a single hundred dollar bill.

It wasn't until late one evening that Merle had come strolling back into the shop, nearly snuck in with an unusual quietness to him, minutes before you were meant to head out for the night. You didn't notice he was inside until he clapped his hand on the back of a new guy's shoulder, the sound resonating through the shop.

You hadn't seen him before. You were well-versed in the gang Merle usually toted around and the way their individual footsteps sounded, threatening and heavy as they dragged under them uneasily. But this guy… you didn't hear him at all, even as you watched him walk around hesitantly. His hair was a messy buzzcut of chestnut and his shirt was a ratty navy blue thing peppered with oil stains. When your mentor asked him if he was there for some ink, too, he declined.

There was a familiarity with Merle in the way he threw a wave your way, knowing you were tucked away in your corner behind a large, fake monstera plant you brought in to liven up the place a bit, and the disgusted glare you always gifted him in return. It was a routine now and you knew it was a game for him.

"Evenin', sweet cheeks!" He called to you, earning another glare. "How 'bout you hook my brother up with some free ink, huh?" He suggested loudly, and then laughed. Normally you would've told Merle to shove it, and that no one he's associated with gets anything for free, but you were stuck on the fact that this new guy was his brother. A brother that seemed to be quiet and reserved and anxious in the way he kept chewing at the skin of his thumb and glancing towards the front door. When Merle mentioned a tattoo for him, his head whipped up in your direction like he hadn't noticed you there sooner and his eyes widened slightly.

You steeled yourself, offered a tight smile to him, and turned back to Merle.

"Fuck off, Merle." You said before grabbing your bag off the floor and collecting a few loose drawings you had scattered on your desk. "I'd rather eat rusty screws."

And you made your way out the front door, the bell above it signaling your departure and you didn't mean to, but you looked back in through the window just in time to see the stranger sitting back on the couch, still chewing at his thumb, with the ghost of a humored smile tugging at his lips.

And then Merle disappeared for a while, weeks, and it seemed as if the town calmed down a bit. It felt a little safer to walk to your car in the evenings and you didn't worry about running into him and his crew at the gas station. You had gotten comfortable enough in the quiet hum to go out grocery shopping in the evening. It was late November and there was no traffic and you enjoyed the empty aisles as you got to take your time looking for unbruised apples. It was a different story when you left the safety of the bright lights of the store and started to make your way to your car. There was a familiar whistle from the dark part of the sidewalk, where a cloud of smoke clouded the group in a threatening aura. Merle was quick to step towards you as you continued to walk towards your car. You held your finger over the panic button on your keys, but you knew that he would just find it funny and probably press on further.

“Leave me alone.” You demanded, hoping that he would just let you load your bags into your car and leave you be. But things were never that simple.

“Now, now,” he started as he rested his hand on the frame of the door just beside you. “Ya didn’ miss me?”

“No. Now leave me alone.” You tried to put the next bag from your shopping cart into your car when Merle reached into it and plucked out a bag of chips and ripped it open. He made a show of eating one loudly, close to your face, with a devious smirk on his face.

“Honey, I think…” He moved a bit closer to you, now, “that you and I could be somethin’ special.”

A laugh rose up your chest and you couldn’t stop it before it came out. It was a sound that echoed through the empty parking lot and Merle’s face dropped. His buddies behind him snickered as they tried not to laugh at their friend too much. They’d watch Merle try this dance with almost every other woman in town, most times with the same outcome, but it never humbled him quite enough.

He simply raised his eyebrows at you as you snatched the bag out of his hands, making sure to let your nails scrape painfully along the top of his hand.

“Merle!” Someone yelled from behind them. This time you could hear his foot fall. They smacked against the ground in loud, angry thumps against the pavement as they approached you. You didn’t dare take your eyes from Merle’s, who found the new voice a nuisance based on the way he rolled his eyes. It wasn’t until the flash of chestnut hair came into your peripheral that you even dared a look away from Merle.

“Daryl, c’mon, man!” Merle threw his hands up in the air in defeat as his brother stepped in between the two of you. He smelled like cigarettes and leather and dirt after a heavy rain.

“Leave’er the fuck alone.” He said around the half-burnt cigarette that hung from his lips. He didn’t have to physically push Merle away from him, even if it looked like he were about to, when Merle began to walk away with a few mumbles of how he was never allowed to have any fun lately, not with Daryl around.

When the group had made it far enough away from them that Daryl felt comfortable turning his back to them, he did so hesitantly, and made a show of putting a great distance between the two of you. He didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable with him standing so close to you, he never wanted anyone to compare him to Merle in any way. You noticed the way he noticed the cigarette smoke swirling around his face when he exhaled and he tried to quickly put it out without you noticing.

He didn’t say anything to you, not while you quickly put the rest of your things into your back seat and slammed the door shut, not when he watched you carefully as you opted to leave your cart in the cart return about eight spaces over instead of taking it back to the front of the store like you normally did. He didn’t say a word to you until you closed your door and a small squeal followed the start up of your car. You jumped when his knuckles tapped lightly on the window.

“I can fix that belt for’ya.” He said cautiously through the inch opening you allowed him. He wasn’t hovering and he wasn’t getting too close to the window. He actually took another step back. You didn’t say anything to him in response, just shook your head, and he took the ‘no’ for what it was and stepped back far enough to let you pull away quickly.

And you thought about that for days. You thought about the way he stepped in for you, to help you, and wondered more than anything why he would.

The shop stayed quiet for a while too. You still felt your shoulders tense in the evenings, wondering if the bell above the door was that whole crew wandering in to cause trouble. You tried not to look up whenever you heard it, because if it were them, eye contact was a sure fire way for them to harass you until you left. It took another couple weeks before your peace was disturbed again.

“Mind if I talk to’er?” You barely heard him ask over the sound of the headphone in your left ear. You looked up slowly, noticing Daryl, alone, by the front door with his hands twisted into each other and barely stepping too far in. Your brow crinkled in confusion at him asking permission to talk to…you? It didn’t make sense. When he got the go ahead, he slowly approached you in your corner, where you took very well to bringing in another few large plants to build yourself a wall away from everyone else. He stopped a couple feet short and you paused your music.

And then there was a long, long pause of silence as he tried to figure out what he was going to say, or why he even stopped in to see you in the first place. He couldn’t help but sweep his eyes over the papers on your desk, the drawings scattered around as if the second you finished one, you began another. There was a whole mess of flowers and animals but Daryl’s eye caught on one that was mostly covered and forgotten. He could only see a wing peeking out, and he reached out slowly to pull it out. As much as you wanted to snatch the paper back from him, you let him stare at it for a while before speaking.

“What? You came for a tattoo?” You asked with humor. He frowned deeply at your question, knowing that the answer was no. He came by to apologize for Merle and the way he treated you that night, and for the way he probably treated you before that, and for Merle’s general existence. Daryl knew that his brother was… a lot to deal with, and he didn’t wish it on anyone. The answer was no, he didn’t come for a tattoo, he didn’t need one. Didn’t have the money for one.

“Sure.”

The surprised look on your face had Daryl almost smiling. Almost. But he wanted to keep his face neutral, he didn’t want you to look at him the way you looked at Merle, or his friends. You looked at them with an apprehensive fear, a fear that they were unpredictable and could cause you harm if you weren’t careful.

Daryl didn’t know you, hadn’t known of you until Merle dragged him into the shop that evening after he decided to get high and Daryl felt the need to make sure he didn’t get himself in any trouble, which they both had found later in the evening in the blinding red and blue lights and blood running from Daryl’s nose and knuckles. He thought you were tough with the way that you told Merle to fuck off without hesitation, then he thought you a fool for walking out in the night by yourself. He knew the people that lurked under the dark awnings of shuttered up businesses, he knew them well, and the worry he sat with far surpassed the annoyance he felt with Merle as he started to get messy in his stupor. He felt the same kind of worry for you when he noticed you walking out of that grocery store and the way they had all made a beeline towards you. He knew they were stupid and reckless and had little care for anyone else’s comfort. Daryl wanted to believe that Merle wasn’t going to hurt you, or push you too far, but he also knew his brother and decided that his rightful place was between you and Merle, making sure that Merle knew he had no place there at all.

Daryl got caught up in the uneasiness of your movements after that, in the way your keys shook a little harder as you tried to cram them into your ignition, the way you jumped sharply when his own knuckles gently tapped on your window. He didn’t know what he expected, he just knew that he didn’t like it. He didn’t like the way you reacted to him, like he scared you, too. And he thought about it the rest of the night, and the next night, and the night after that. He thought about it enough that he found himself standing on the corner a block south and across the street from the tattoo shop. He’d smoke through a half pack of cigarettes and keep an eye out for anyone shady walking in the front door.

Daryl knew you weren’t alone inside, he knew that most people in town wouldn’t even dare mess with your mentor, on account of his past decisions to physically throw patrons out the front door into the street for disrespecting his staff. But Daryl still felt the need to watch the door for you. To make sure you didn’t feel like you had no safety. And on this night, he decided to walk in.

“Really?” You asked him, your voice a little higher than normal. You’d gotten to tattoo a few people by now, finding them to be understanding with you being new to tattooing, agreeable with the lower pricing, and friendlier than you’d expected. But this one almost felt like a trap, like if you let him sit for one, then you’d owe him something in return.

“Ya don’ have’ta if ya don’ wanna.” He mumbled, now unsure if he should’ve even come in tonight. How would you have possibly known that he came in as a friendly, as one of the few people in town that even knew your name.

But you found yourself swiping the papers across your desk into a messy stack off to the side and opening a few drawers while pulling out supplies. He felt his fingers grip the paper he still held a little harder at the sight of the packaged needles being laid out.

He knew it was silly to be worried about the pain of the needles since pain was all he really knew lately.

Daryl let you tug the paper out of his hands and prepare a stencil anyway.

“I ain’t got money, not enough a’least.” He said quietly. He didn’t want to wait until you were finished to remember that reaching into his pocket would only result in a few crumpled ones and fives that he’d snuck out of vehicles that he’d worked on at the shop in desperation because he was hungry. “I jus’ came to apologize.”

“Apologize for what?” You asked, now very confused. Daryl hadn’t done anything worth apologizing for, the only time he was close enough to warrant words before now he was helping you. If anything, you should’ve thanked him for helping you get out of the parking lot that night.

“Merle.”

He said it simply, and bashfully, knowing that he always felt the need to follow in his brother’s messy trail of destruction and clean up after him. He hadn’t expected you to laugh, though. You laughed as you slid on your black gloves, and laughed again as you took a step towards him that he hadn’t anticipated. He wasn’t ready, wasn’t prepared for you to come so close, and he took a big step back. It silenced your laughter quickly and you held your hands up slowly.

“Where do you want it?” You asked him in a quiet voice, afraid that if you spoke any louder, he’d turn around and high-tail it out of there. The design seemed larger as a stencil than it did on the paper and he knew where he would put it, but he also knew that it would be more revealing to you than he wanted to be. But he mumbled about his right shoulder to you and you waited patiently, for almost two minutes, before he got brave enough to start pulling his shirt over his head. He was skinny, and his shoulders boasted deep tan lines from his time in the sun. You could see that he was cautious when dropping his arms fully to his side, and the amount of hesitation he held in turning around for you.

Daryl hadn’t let anyone see him like this, didn’t plan to let anyone see him like this, but under the pink glow of a neon heart light you kept lit in your corner, and the way the light sparkled off the apples of your cheeks, he turned his back to you. And he didn’t miss the way you deeply exhaled at this sight of his scars; he expected it.

What he didn’t expect was how you walked him through everywhere you planned to touch him, and the moment just before you did. The pressure of the stencil, the encouragement from your hand around his bicep to pull him towards a mirror to make sure he liked the placement. He wasn’t used to how gentle you were with him when you got close into his space on your stool, finding a position that was comfortable for the both of you to be in. He couldn’t describe the way he felt when the needle started in on his skin mixed with the way your hands wiped away the excess ink and blood with such gentle care he hadn’t seen before. It was the moment he knew that he needed to protect you, even if you were repulsed by him, because no one had ever shown him such kindness and care. He wasn’t sure if his head felt fuzzy and a little dizzy at the pain or if it was because you’d ask him if he was okay every few minutes and offer him a break if he needed it. You offered him a bottle of water from the fridge and even a pack of crackers you kept in your purse that you always ate on your drive home.

He knew then that his soul needed yours.

A few days after you had tattooed Daryl in near silence, and declined the crumpled bills he tried to pull from his pants pocket, you saw him again. He didn't come into the shop. You didn't notice him until you pulled away from the curb and about to turn left down the next street when you saw a puff of smoke and a small orange light fall to the ground and get crushed beneath a boot. It was Daryl, and he tried to be subtle in the way he watched your car drive away, but you noticed. You noticed and you wondered if he was standing there long, if he was waiting for you, and if maybe he was the reason Merle hadn't been by in a long while.

You'd peak out the front window whenever you worked late in the shop to see if he was there, and most times he was. He'd just stand there, still as a statue, until you'd leave for the night and in your rear view mirror, he'd be walking in the opposite direction you were driving until disappearing down an alley.

It took nearly two weeks for you to decide not to get into your car, but instead cross the street and head in his direction instead. He followed the same routine of putting out his cigarette but stood there and waited for you to get closer. He couldn’t help but be surprised that you decided to approach him, he knew that you’d see him whenever you left, but he never imagined that you would feel safe enough to approach him on the cracked sidewalk under the broken street light. Daryl grew a little worried the closer you got, he had the quickest thought pop up that you may think he’s a creep, and a stalker, and you may be walking up to him right now to lay into him to leave you the hell alone.

“Wanna get some food?” You asked quickly, afraid of what he was going to say to you and if he thought you were weird.

You watched as a confused smile grew across his face. He hadn’t expected it, but then again, he hadn’t expected you, either.

“With me?”

And you nodded your head easily, and then like the fever dream he could’ve sworn it was, he found himself perched on the hood of your car, eating a burger from the only fast food joint that was still open in town as you sucked down a milkshake. He listened to you talk about whatever you wanted; your family, the hole in the toe of your shoe, which stars you could name even if neither of you could see them under the steady haze of light pollution.

That’s when he knew he was a goner.

After that evening, he was invited inside. You peeked your head out the door and waved him in. He was worried at first that you needed help, so he hurried. When he pulled the door open, he was met with nothing but peace and calm and warm air. You motioned for him to hop up onto your table, where he envisioned you strapping him down and tattooing him against his will, but it was just to give him a decent place to spend his time. And it became the norm, where he’d walk in and head straight back to your corner, often bringing food or a drink or a little trinket or the time he brought you a pack of AA batteries for your wall clock that died. Nights turned to quick weeks, and Daryl hadn't felt more at home.

By the time Christmas rolled around, he couldn't afford much of anything. He was making crap money and he felt you deserved so much more than he could give you, especially when you handed him a large gift bag from your back seat three days before Christmas. Daryl hadn't expected it to be awkwardly heavy and he stared at the green tissue paper that peeked from the top for an extra long minute before placing it on the ground. He crouched down on the sidewalk, not sure how he was supposed to react as he opened it. What if he didn't seem excited or grateful enough? He wasn't concerned with what was actually in the bag; it could be heinous and terribly ugly and absolutely useless, but he wouldn't care. He didn't take the fact that you went out of your way thinking about him for advantage. He braved a quick glance up at your expectant face before he dug his hands in. He knew the feeling before he pulled it out, and he couldn't help the smile he let out.

Seeing Daryl pull the vest out of the bag had you wrapping your arms around your middle a little self consciously. You weren't sure what he'd make of it. The reason for buying it made so much sense; a set of wings to match the ones you etched into his skin. You were worried it would seem like too much. He spread the black leather vest flat over his thighs as he stayed crouched on the ground and stared at the large, bright white angel wings stitched onto the back. His fingers toyed with the edges of the patches for a while.

"If you don't like it, I can return it, Daryl." You offered quietly, trying to remember where you had put the receipt.

"Nah, it's…" He said, but then stopped. He wasn't sure how to describe the way he was feeling. Elated and appreciated and lucky, to name a few. It was the moment he regretted not having anything for you. "I didn' get you nothin'."

His voice was quiet and you had to strain to hear him. He made sure the vest was secure in his hands before he stood back up, his shoulders hunched forward a little as he kept his eyes on the black stitching across the wings. It was easily the nicest piece of clothing he owned and he didn't take that for granted. You had done that for him and he couldn't wrap his head around that too easily. But something in his brain just… clicked.

He stepped forward so fast you hadn't anticipated it, his hands a little too clumsy and rushed as he reached out to take hold of your arms and he quickly covered your lips with his own. It was brief and harsh and he had no idea what he was doing. He didn't know how to kiss you right, but, if you'd let him, he'd spend the rest of his time doing everything right for you.

And you did let him.

You let him try your first kiss again after his nerves jumbled the first. And try it again after that just because you knew he wanted to.

The gentle kisses and soft touches became a norm, still accompanied by his overprotective need to make sure you make it home okay and that none of the shitbags in town even dare to bother you again. Daryl's run-ins with Merle grew more aggressive, the threats more genuine, especially when Merle learned that you had given Daryl a chance and not him. Merle couldn't understand why someone like you would shack up with his brother. A childish jab at you being "deaf, blind, and dumb" had Daryl breaking Merle's nose right in front of his juvenile group of friends in an instant.

As more time passed, Daryl kept more and more distance from Merle. Daryl took the loss of a place to crash, and false sense of safety of the streets with him, as an opening to get closer to you. He needed a couch; he needed a roof and food and warmth and love, and you had all of that ready for him before he even asked.

The calendar you kept posted on your fridge gained a significant amount of Daryl's jagged lettering, with his work schedule mingling with yours, small notes scrawled along the edges of the paper reminding you to be safe, and you reminding him to eat.

The transition between wanting to be with you and being with you was a taxing time for Daryl. He was concerned that everything he did, every move he'd make, would be wrong. He was still stuck in the knowledge that you let him kiss you whenever he wanted to, you chose to share meals with him, and your free time, too. It made him anxious, and he worried constantly about fucking it all up. He still couldn't get over the feeling of you plastering yourself into his side on the couch to watch TV and then falling asleep very shortly after. Your cheek would rest on his shoulder, his arm would be around your back with his hand having a firm grip on your hip, and your legs thrown over his. It became an almost nightly ritual that he grew to hope for, but was always too worried to ask you for your attention.

Daryl hadn't expected to tell you he loved you the way he did. He never imagined he'd make it this far with you, let alone sharing meals, and blankets, and some of the most honest, heart-clenching conversations he'd ever dared to have.

"We should get married." He mumbled one evening, his eyes glued to the sharp lines of the stars that littered the space around your wrist and onto your hand, your left hand with a fourth finger that seemed terribly bare as far as Daryl was concerned. It wasn't something he had wanted before, nor something he allowed himself to dream of. He hadn't even meant to say it out loud, because at this point, he hadn't even told you he loved you yet. He was still coasting on touches and sweet, safe words and relying on actions to hopefully say the things that the lump in his throat wouldn't allow him to yet.

But this…this came out so easily. So fast and clear and as truthful as Daryl could be.

You snapped your head up to him quickly, eyes wide and a little hazy from the sleep you were just about to slip into. You thought you didn't hear him right, that you were having an in-between dream. But you weren't, and his words sat there waiting for you to react. You were sure that you looked alarmed, especially with the way he began to pull his arm off of you in an attempt to put space between you.

"Daryl-" You said gently, reaching out to grab his arm. The blanket that you had rested over your feet slid to the ground into a heap. Daryl still tried to move away.

"M'sorry, I… tha's not what I meant." He said, dropping his head into his hands and allowing his thumbs to press into his temples a little too hard.

"It's not?" You asked, your voice almost too hard for him to hear. He didn't miss the way you almost sounded disappointed.

"Ya ain't known me tha'long." He ground out, looking for any reason to fix what he'd said. "I ain't… yer too… I don't now, I ain't no good for ya." His shoulders sagged in defeat with the way that intrusive thought kept coming back to him as frequently as it possibly could. He didn't dare look at you.

"No, Daryl. No." Your voice was firm, almost sounding mad, as your grip on his arm tightened. You were afraid that this would be the beginning of him pulling away from you.

When he looked at you, he wished he hadn't. Your eyes seemed bigger and sadder and he wanted to kick himself. He knew he was fucking everything up.

"It's not tha' I didn' mean it." He started slowly, his voice gravely as he tried to get the jumbled thoughts together. "It's just…the timin' ain't right, is it? I can't give ya nothin'... no ring, no home, no fancy dates or a big wedding. I don't have shit and you don' deserve that."

"It doesn't matter, Daryl."

And he felt himself growing frustrated because it did matter to him. He offered you no opportunity, no safety net, no stability. He was less than half a man and he knew it.

"If you ask me again, I'll say yes, Daryl. I would've said yes the first time, too." You said, now sitting up straight and letting go of his arm. You could see him starting to retreat into himself, both physically and mentally, and you knew he needed a moment. You were gonna give it to him. You forced yourself to stand up slowly, before crouching down in front of him. He had his head dropped back into his hands, his eyes keeping good guard from your gaze. You leaned forward and placed a kiss on his head, made sure that he heard your very clear 'I love you', and stood again.

When you stepped out of the room, Daryl tried to take a deep breath but his lungs wouldn't fill. He wanted to scream and break something. He'd never been so close to something he wanted so bad. You had opened the door for him as wide as you could and he felt so stupid for not walking through it already. Minutes had passed, and it was too long. The laughter coming from the television was so misplaced it hurt.

When he heard your footsteps slowly walking around from the direction of the bedroom, he finally found the courage to fly to his feet and make his way quickly to you. There was no reason for him to put it off, put you off, and to put off the things that he wants the way he usually does.

“It is what I meant.” He said when he stepped into the room where you had taken to slowly folding and putting away laundry. You seemed calm and content and Daryl would’ve been confused if he didn’t know that you knew him better than he knew himself. You knew that one way or another, he’d come to you when he was ready to talk. You half expected him to come in and apologize quickly, want to move on from the unexpected conversation you’d found yourself in, and bury it for a while. You hadn’t expected him to say that, or to get as close to you as he could, to grab the clothes from your hands and chuck them on the basket across the room, or to grab your face and pull you into him so firmly. The kiss was everything he needed to tell you how he felt about you, because he knew that words would fail him. He wished he knew how to tell you that he belonged to you in every way possible, and he would sell his soul to spend his life with you. Though, he suspected you already knew.

He couldn’t miss the way you slipped a steady and confident ‘yes’ in between kisses, answering the question that still hung in the air around you. He meant it, and so did you, It made him want to cry and scream to release the pent up excitement that bubbled up so quickly in his chest, an excitement he’d never felt before. You’d just agreed to spend your life with him like it was a casual conversation on a wednesday night about the outcome of a football game, like it was an everyday thing, normal and factual.

“So, what? Did you get married before the world ended?” The boy asked, finally capping his markers and leaning back to admire his work. You had always intended to go back and get the flowers colored in; you wanted oranges and pinks with small bits of green- but the empty lines offered you, and the kids, and sometimes Daryl, a chance to turn them into whatever they wanted.

“Oh, yeah,” You said quickly, your eyes finding Daryl’s again. “Like three days after that.”

“Three days?” The boy said with a look of shock on his face. “Doesn’t that stuff take a long time to plan or something? My sister used to watch those dumb shows on TV where the people tried on thirty dresses alone!”

“No,” you laughed, wondering what your wedding dress would’ve looked like had you had one. “I didn’t have a fancy dress like that. Just pulled a blue one out of my closet while Daryl waited for me to hurry up and pick something.”

You saw Daryl get up from his place on top of the picnic table across the way and start to make his way over to you. His face had grown tired, his features harder and stressed. You wished that things could go back to the way they were, in your shitty apartment with Daryl fixing the kitchen sink plumbing because you knew your landlord wouldn’t even bother. To both of your shoes chucked haphazardly to the side by the front door, telling anyone that came in that you were both there, lived together, belonged together, took on the world together in that small, worthless town. You hoped that one day, a hope that was beyond misplaced in the death and destruction that the world only knew now, that one day he could rest and breathe deeply and find a happy that he always deserved- one that you planned to give him for better or for worse. You just hadn’t expected the world to turn to the worse so quickly.

“Do you wish you had a fancy dress?” The boy asked a little quieter, his eyes catching onto Daryl’s approaching figure, still intimidated by him no matter how many times you’d tried to tell people that he was just a big softie.

Daryl’s left hand was reaching out to you in an instant, waiting for you to latch onto him so he could whisk you away into privacy where he could let you sit on his lap, back pressed into his chest as his face rested in your hair, and whisper into your ear how much he loved you over and over. He was never possessive before, he never wanted you to feel trapped with him. But now, when you were away from him for too long, he’d start to panic, his mind would race, and he’d fixate on you until he knew you were safe and alive and in one piece.

Your eyes caught the smudge of black ink on his ring finger, a smudge of initials that complimented your own smudge, and you couldn’t help but smile. After leaving the courthouse that day, Daryl wished he could’ve given you a ring. He hadn’t said that since the night of his jumbled, sudden proposal, but you knew it in the way that he spent the first week of being married to you playing with the empty space on your finger and glancing at it every now and then. You were sure he had a plan to get you one, one that involved working a lot of overtime, and odd side jobs to save up some extra money for one. Watching him get so stuck in his head about it had you rolling your eyes one evening and digging your tattoo machine out of your bag. You pulled him over to the small table crammed into the corner of the kitchen and got the space ready the way you would at the shop. He asked what you were doing a couple times, and though you didn’t answer, he quickly found out when the loud buzzing filled the small apartment and he watched in disbelief as you permanently scratched his initials onto your finger. When you held up your hand for him to see, you could see that his eyes were glassy and his neck was turning red and he didn’t hesitate to rest his hand out close to you, asking for the same thing. Something so permanent and unmistakable. Something that he’d look at every single day and think of you, and to know that you, too, would be thinking about him every day, even if bits of the ink fell out from hand washing or got blown out from sun exposure, you were still his.

“Nah, no fancy dresses for me.” You pretended to gag, which made them both laugh, as you let Daryl pull you to your feet. You waved to the boy as Daryl pulled you with him.

“I dunno,” Daryl mumbled once the two of you reached the door of the guard tower. He pulled it open for you, and looked you up and down before his eyes settled on yours, “Tha’ blue one seemed pretty fancy.”

********

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