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inkorganic · 5 months

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The Way Things Are

Summary

Featuring: Tomura Shigaraki x female reader cw: 18+ minors do not interact, smut, unprotected sex, reader has a quirk, messy, loss of virginity Word count: 4.5 k AO3

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The days unfolded more as they passed. Blending like watercolors, transforming into a jumble of warm mornings, hazy afternoons, and cold nights A month passed, and it was hard to believe; however, the calendar on your phone couldn’t be lying, or maybe it could. After all, you didn’t have a recollection of ever using your quirk in this exhausting way.

Maybe it could mess with the internal clocks of phones too. Concealing your presence was an easy job—a hum that surrounded your life, making you almost indestructible and undetectable.

A cozy blanket that kept you safe well into your early adulthood Concealing others was a different story, though, having to synchronize with their heartbeats and breaths. The unwelcome familiarity of discovering the patterns of the league. You were the newest member; a few weeks didn’t make a significant difference, but facts are facts.

They already had a well-established dynamic; it’s not that they didn’t attempt to incorporate you. Making friends was simply not on your list of reasons for joining this organization in the first place. Allies were required to accomplish your end goal; the plan was to keep them safe with your quirk, and they would assist you in exacting your revenge.

You have to stay inside the tiny cabin. No , you thought this was hardly a cabin. It’s a shed not meant for staying for more than a night or to be used as temporary shelter, but the times were rough and the money was cut off many weeks ago. Getting used to the pungent smell of rotting wood was still an active project.

The wood panels that acted as walls provided minimal protection from the weather; if it rained, you knew because the water formed poodles on the already-molding hardwood flooring.

This was better than staying outside , you told yourself as you checked your ratty sleeping bag for ticks and other unwanted companions. Getting a bug bite-transmitted disease would be the cherry on top of this disadvantageous situation.

That night, it was only you and Tomura in the room; the other members decided to flee for liberty. The only night the leader decided to take a real break and not only a few hours to rest

Even Spinner excused himself; you didn’t have anywhere else to go, and your head pounded painfully behind your eyes like a second heartbeat with the uninterrupted use of your quirk. You might as well take the chance and turn it off for once.

Being a loner, even in a group of other outcasts, was funny in a way. The night was setting, and soon Tomura would enter the room, nod at you, and ignore you for the rest of the night until the sun rose again.

The only change in the routine was that tonight he would sleep in, which made you nervous. You were used to the others being here, coming and going, murmuring greetings, and asking if suddenly food decided to manifest itself in the pantry.

You didn’t realize you had fallen asleep until the soft noises of Tomura setting his sleeping bag woke you up. You didn’t mean to pry into his nightly routine, but you couldn’t help it. The dim lighting provided by the sad portable light cast shadows on his face, making his dark undereyes more noticeable and deeper. The crazy rhythm he set for himself was starting to wear him down. Suddenly, he looked five years older in the span of a few weeks.

He was down to his t-shirt, but the night was so cold , you thought. Maybe it was your people-pleasing personality or the fact that you wanted to talk to someone about anything. You left the warm cocoon of your sleeping bag to go look into your things for a spare hoodie, sweater, or anything warm.

He lifted his eyes and did the usual thing he did: he nodded at you, and you nodded back in silent acknowledgment. This time, though, you offered him a hoodie.

“It’s cold” You haven’t used your voice in hours, so it came like a hoarse whisper. His gaze went from your face to the hand offering the garment.

“It doesn’t bother me.”

“Your hands are shaking.” You were talking in whispers, the same tone you would use when talking to a feral cat. “I’ll leave it here.” You crouched slowly. Again, he looked tired and easy to piss off, and he was already easy to provoke when he was in a good mood, so it was better not to poke at him.

“Whatever,” he sighed.

You stayed there a little. Listening to the sounds from outside the walls. Letting your hands grow colder so you can warm them up later inside your sack. Watching your nails turn purple with poor blood circulation and then returning to a healthy pink. Pretending you were on a camping excursion with friends and not on a terrorist mission with people you barely spoke to, your thoughts made you giggle. The absurdity of it all

“What’s so funny?” He sounded more annoyed than tired, so maybe he did want to talk.

“I’ve never been camping.” And with that, you got up and crawled back to your small personal space.

“Me neither,” he said after a long pause.

Just above a whisper from his mouth, it felt like a small win to get him to speak about other things that weren’t his plans for the league or video games. You let the moment go too far; the opportunity to converse was halted. Soon, his steady breathing told you he was asleep. Good for him; you knew he needed the sleep.

You couldn’t make yourself sleep tossing and turning for what you felt were hours. The cold claimed your body, and your breath was visible in front of you in wisps of steam. How much did the temperature drop? It was hard to know for sure, but the bites from the bitter cold were eating your fingers, leaving flushed cheeks, stiff toes, and clattering teeth behind for you to endure.

It never crossed your mind that you could miss having all the members of the league around to provide human heat, but here you were shivering inside a thin sleeping bag in the middle of nowhere.

You wondered if Tomura was doing better, so you tuned in to check on him. To see his half-lidded eyes already staring at you. You noticed he was wearing your hoodie—another win for your small record. No, like you were keeping a record.

“Y/n” He broke the silence, his voice husky and tired.

“Yeah?”

“Can you turn on your quirk?”

You were not expecting that at all. You sat slowly, warming your hands with your breath.

“The buzz sound—I got used to hearing it.”

You could accept his petition, but you could also get something from him—a mutual favor: he wanted the side effect of your quirk, and you wanted a source of heat.

“Sure, but can I move closer to you?” The words left your mouth, and they turned into ribbons wrapping themselves around your neck, too accustomed to never asking for anything from anyone. To want was to desire, and desire was why you ended up as a stray on the edges of society.

“You don’t need to be close.” He replied, stating the knowledge he had of the way your quirk worked. It tasted too much like rejection—the oily, sour aftertaste setting in the back of your throat.

“That is true.” You shrugged, letting your quirk wrap around him. His heartbeat joined the sounds inside your head, along with the palpitation of your headache. He was upset; probably his pulse was faster than it should be considering he was lying down.

“Is it easier to use if you’re close?”

“No.” You sighed, shaking your head. “I’m cold, that’s all.”

He kept his eyes on you, actually taking notice of your presence for the first time since you joined the league. You wanted to be out of this situation. A wave of stress settled on your shoulders, and the tightness of your chest made it harder to breathe. You didn’t like being noticed; it was easier to be in the background, taking little space.

“I smell!" Tomura snorted, almost chuckling. Almost. It's another win for the record.

“We all do.” You let a chunk of your stress be dissolved by a short laugh. “We all should bathe and soak there for a few hours”.

He chuckled this time. You joined him. It felt delicious. You felt normal for once in a while.

“You can move closer.” He whispered reluctantly, his rapid heartbeat hammering the back of your head. Maybe it was invasive to get a glimpse of a clue to how he felt without disclosing it, but no one asked, and you were not about to go. Hey, just letting you know that I can hear and feel your heartbeats inside my head. Sorry about that.

You rose, your steps muffled by your socks. He was already making space for you. You lay beside him on your side, facing him. The sleeping bag was slightly bigger than yours, but still, your knees were touching, and suddenly you gained awareness of all your limbs and their positions. The way you bent at uncomfortable angles to avoid touching him more than what was inevitably necessary. It was warmer and nicer too, even if you were never going to voice such a thought; your fingers were finally allowed to regain blood flow.

You wanted more. You wanted to take more; the ache for human contact was tingling at your fingertips, so close to another human yet so far. You longed to be the one who takes, not the one who stays empty-handed, and god, you were as empty as you could be; nothing belonged to you.

So in a moment of impulsivity, with his heartbeat driving you insane and his knees touching yours, you decided to press your mouth on his closed lips—a peck. You waited for him to push you away to try and turn you into dust for the audacity of daring to kiss him. But he didn’t; he remained still. A muffled sound coming from his throat was the only acknowledgment you got.

You pushed it more; it was addicting—the heat from his body and the way he tasted the musky smell from him—making you wish you could get inside his clothes. You parted your lips, trying to deepen the kiss. His hands found their way to your upper arms, squeezing them in a fourth-finger grip, not pushing you away, not pulling you in either, just keeping you there. The guilt made you draw back.

Your mind was racing as your stomach tangled into tight knots. But then you saw his face, eyes closed, and brows furrowed together.

“I can’t touch you.” He murmured, his breath tickling your mouth. Letting go of your arms, he set his hands into fists on his sides.

Now his gaze was on your eyes, his pupils engulfing the red of his irises. He wanted to give in to physical pleasure; he never really let himself explore before. His life had always been about controlling decay, and he didn’t particularly like the fact that your quirk could potentially make you immune to his.

He used to indulge in fantasies where he met someone who he could touch and who would not squirm away from him in fear or disgust. Then he met you, gentle-faced and not quite made for a villain’s life but with a useful quirk he was not going to turn down.

He decided later on that not having the power to get rid of you if needed was not something he was fond of, contrary to what he initially thought. Still, he wanted to dig his fingers into the plumpness of your hips, knowing that you would stay whole. He could not afford the distraction though, so keeping you at arm’s length was necessary.

Tomura didn’t imagine you were going to be the one to close the distance he so carefully crafted. Even more so, he would let you effortlessly do it too, giving in so easily to a gentle gesture, a tender kiss, and a kind caress.

“I don’t want to.” He ran his hand through his hair, the pale locks stealing highlights from the faint portable light. “I should not want to.” He spoke to himself, attempting to assure himself that he had no special interest in you.

One of his hands moved to your nape, drawing you closer. He didn’t allow you the chance to flee and hide in your sack; the hand on your neck brought you back to his mouth. This time, he was the one who started it. Too quick, too eager, too hungry—his kiss was clumsy and inexperienced. You bit him softly, trying not to break his chapped lips any further, just enough to make him stop for a second.

He was perplexed.

“I thought you wanted”— I thought you wanted me , left unsaid. He whispered, tilting his head to get a better view of yours. “You kissed me first.”

“I do,” you said, attempting but failing to conceal your hesitation. “I did”

You fell into an awkward silence, peering into one another’s eyes but not daring to break it again.

“Why? He inquired. His glance flew to your lips, then up to your eyes, expecting to find the answer he was seeking.

“I felt like it.”

That was not what he was expecting, yet again. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear; for months, he had prevented his attention from wandering to you and your ridiculous quirk.

He was aware that he was not in love with you. That was not something he believed himself capable of; not even lust was something he frequently indulged in; usually, it concerned physical sensations, the twitch in his lower abdomen, and the slight relaxation that followed. That was a checkbox on the pyramid of needs that humans had to meet.

“Do it again?” He whispered, giving in. He could swear the buzzing of your quirk started to have a rapid heartbeat-like pattern.

The previous uncomfortable silence was preferable to this conversation. The consequences of your actions didn’t make themselves wait; they showed up barely minutes after kissing him.

“Do it again?” You echoed his words with an unsure voice.

“Don’t act like that now. I’m not the one who started this with the excuse of being cold.”

“It was not an excuse; I was cold,” you replied.

“Yeah, well. You certainly aren’t anymore." He trailed off, his gaze fixed on you. A frown formed on his brow.

“Should we talk about it?” You inquired shyly.

“What? Now you want to talk. You never say anything and have never actively participated in our missions! Now suddenly, you’re interested in discussing things? Acting like a damn NPC,” he retorted, his tone laced with skepticism.

“You never complained before.” You mumbled.

Successfully, you annoyed him in record time. He laughed wryly.

“Is this a fucking joke? Is this how you entertain yourself?” He leaned forward, his mouth close to your ear. The breath hitting your skin made you shiver. “You think that because I can’t use my quirk on you, you can just do anything you want to me without consequences?”

“Of course not. Look, I apologize for what I did. I’m leaving” You said to walk away like you often do when things become too difficult to handle. “Let’s pretend it never happened.”

You crawled out of his sleeping bag with all the dignity you could muster, shuddering when your calf accidentally brushed against his forearm. You didn’t get far; well, Tomura didn’t let you get far. He grabbed you by the ankle.

“You don’t get to just walk away from this.” He stated. “Not when we work together every day. And not after you just kissed me out of nowhere.”

The chill from the floor pierced your bare foot as your sock turned to dust. Your quirk buzzed around your body, repelling his.

“You thought you could get away with it? Just do whatever you want to me. It doesn’t work like that.”

“Then what do you want? I offered to talk, and you said no, but you also said no to me, leaving you alone. Yes, I shouldn’t have kissed you, but you kissed me back.” You huffed. “Just let it go.”

You were purposefully ignoring the fact that he did ask you to kiss him again, and you rejected him. It was terrifying to understand that the very first kiss was more than simply impulsiveness; perhaps you wished for a warm body to exchange body heat with, but not anyone you wanted his.

“You shouldn’t play with people’s feelings like that.” He definitely didn’t take it well. He yanked on your ankle, sending pain through your leg and forcing you to step forward. Your hands broke your fall; kicking him instinctively, your foot connected with his shoulder, causing him to hiss.

“What’s the matter with you? You yelled. He had already sat down when you turned your body to face him. “Why do you act like that over something as insignificant as a kiss?”

“It’s not about the kiss,” he said, sighing. Tiredness framed his face, and his skin was as irritated as ever. The faint sounds of nature outside flowed through the room as he sat there. This situation was entirely your own creation.

“Don’t kiss me and then reject me.” He mumbled. You knew that saying that cost him. “That’s cruel”

You gulped, drooling like an animal in captivity who had just been thrown a piece of meat after long weeks of starvation. Slowly, your finger brushed the shoulder that you were pretty sure you’d kicked.

He lifted his gaze, doubt written all over his face.

“So?”

He hesitated to answer. Licking his chapped lips before talking.

“Kiss me or leave.”

The bluntness of his statement left you frozen, but you couldn’t deny the pit of desire ignited in your body. The hand that was on his shoulder moved up to his face, cupping his cheek. His breath hitched, and you launched yourself forward, pressing your mouth to his lips.

Your tongue traced the outline of his scar. Tomura opened his mouth, capturing your tongue and licking it. He didn’t know where to put his hands; maybe you would not decay, but your clothes were another story. He settled for burying his hands in your hair.

Starting to feel lightheaded, you dropped your hand to his chest, not that you needed it to feel his heartbeat. You never retrieved your quirk effect from him; his pulse was hammering rapidly in your head, making you wonder where all that blood was traveling.

He quietly gasped, breaking the kiss. He glanced into your eyes, and that’s when he knew you were into this as much as he was. He kissed you on the neck, his breath caressing your sensitive skin and causing you to jolt when he nibbled the spot where your neck meets your shoulder, forcing a moan out of your mouth.

He stiffened; he could never have thought a little sound like that coming from your mouth could have such an effect on him as electricity rushing down to his groin, feeling himself grow harder. Self-conscious about the possibility of you noticing his erection, he pulled aside a little.

“What?” You muttered.

“Nothing,” he lied.

“Do you want to stop?” You asked.

“No”

“Can I touch you?” Your desire was palpable in your speech.

He nodded. And you ran away with the confirmation. You reached out to touch the rough lines that composed him, and as your hand went to his lap, he quickly wrapped his hand around your wrist, not with any real force.

“We can stop." You started, but he interrupted you.

“I already told you I don’t want to stop,” Tomura snarled. “I just need a moment.”

You chuckled under your breath.

“Why are you acting like a virgin? We are just making out!”

He looked dumbstruck, and his saliva-coated lips parted in an expression you didn’t think he was capable of. He coughed, wiping his face. The realization hit you like a fist to the nose. Of course, he didn’t have any experience in this department. It wasn’t even hard to guess.

You pushed the virgin too far. With a vice grip, he yanked your hair; the pain was registered later on by your nerves when he was already pushing you to the sleeping bag. He pinned your hands above your head, brutally stretching your shoulders, making you trash under him.

His narrowed eyes met yours. His lips were tugged down so deeply that you could see the specks of blood blooming from his chapped lips. Tomura was mad, tired, and aroused.

You inhaled deeply, allowing the air to fill your lungs. Hopefully, the newfound oxygen in your bloodstream could help you find a way out. Suddenly, he let go of your wrists, choosing to nuzzle your neck instead.

“I’m tired,” Tomura mumbled, sounding muffled and defeated.

On the other hand, you were restless. His hair was brushing your cheek, and his breath condensed on the skin of your neck, leaving a moist, warm feeling behind. You ran your hand through his hair; it was softer than you imagined, curling around your fingers.

He sighed, rolling off you to sit beside you, making the old wood flooring crack under him. The cold indignantly filtered through your body again, missing his body heat. Like a moth to a flame, you wrapped your arms around him and turned to bury your face in the crook of his neck. You could get used to his smell and the way his pulse quickens beneath your lips.

“Sorry.” He whispered.

“Just hug me back,” you replied.

He took advantage of the situation by slipping his hands under your sweater. Tomura's hands were warm, which was ironic given the destructive nature of his quirk. No one else was going to love the texture of his fingertips tracing lines on their backs except you.

There was no lust in his touch at the beginning, but that didn’t last long, with his contact growing hungry and desperate. You straddled him, his finger digging into the small of your waist and bringing you closer, encouraging you in. Tomura lifted his head to meet your eyes and opened his mouth, hesitating to speak.

There’s no need to speak, you thought. Kissing the corner of his mouth and licking the dry blood from his lips, the faint coppery taste only served to feed your desire for him. Your arousal would already be coating his lap if it weren't for the thick sweatpants you were wearing. You needed him to stop being so shy.

“Decay my clothes." Your speech was muffled against his mouth, but he heard every syllable, replaying it in his mind over and over.

“You’re insane,” he whispered back.

“Undress me then."

"Huh? I'm not going to strip you." For a split second, you assumed that meant he didn't want to go any further with you. You were gloriously incorrect. He gently pushed you on your back again, this time placing his palm on the back of your head to ensure you would not get hurt. “Not fully. You’re cold, remember?”

“Right”

A hasty hand slid down your pants, his thumb hooked in the waistband. You arched your back to help him undress you with the combination of his warm hands and the cold room. He mostly kept his word, only setting one leg free from your pants and underwear.

As eager as he was, you battled with the button of his jeans. Pulling it until his erection sprang free, you wish the room were thoughtfully illuminated so you could see all of him. This time, he didn't wrap his hand around your wrist to stop you.

Instead, he sank his finger into the swell of your hip, stealing a gasp from your mouth, encouraging him to touch you more as he pleased. Without losing any more time, you stroke his cock, slowly caressing his flushed tip with your thumb, smearing the precum down his length.

He jerked forward, biting down a whiny moan.

Your mouth was on his neck, kissing and licking him, down to his collarbones, tasting his salty skin. Tomura was on cloud nine; your hand was warm and soft around him, and you were doing this willingly.

“Please Y/n” He was not used to asking for permission; he was raised with the encouragement to take whatever he desired when he wanted. For some reason, he wanted you to give yourself to him without having to force you.

“Let me help you." You whispered Tomura jolted when you guided his cock to your entrance, wrapping your legs around his bony hips. Tomura grabbed you by the waist, burying himself in the inviting wetness of your cunt.

You heard yourself cry out a moan at the sudden stretch. Just like the first kiss, he was sloppy and rhythmless. No, that he cared at that very moment. You felt so good clenching around his cock.

"Tomura." You breathed out his name.

He grabbed your plushy thighs, parting your legs further. He wanted to be inside you so deeply that you would feel like something was missing when he pulled out.

You pulled his hair, sending delicious tingles down his neck. Tomura pressed his mouth to yours forcing his tongue inside your mouth as he began to set a pace sending waves of pleasure with each thrust

“I want you to cum with me. What should I do?” He asked, panting in a hoarse whisper.

“Touch my clit while you fuck me."

His thumb found the bundle of nerves, and a wave of pleasure invaded your body, making you breathless and gasping for air. You knew he was close when he started to moan in your ear. His hips rocked intensely. Tomura felt his abdomen clenching, and he gave in to your grip. The world stopped for a moment, and it was only him and you. Putting your hand behind his nape, you draw him closer, kissing him while you reach your peak.

Tomura plopped on top of you, still to the hilt inside you. The spasms, remnants of your orgasm, emptying him further inside you. Kissing your sweaty temple, he rolled off you.

You didn’t want to think you’d regret this so soon after it was over, occupying your mind with cleaning the mess before it dried in a sticky nightmare instead. You used your remaining sock to clean his cum that slid down your thighs.

After you fixed your clothes, you turned to see Tomura, who was already sleeping on his side, giving his back to you. Odd. Well, he did say he was tired. In one of many kind gestures, he wasn’t sure he hated or loved; you fixed his clothes by pulling his jeans back on.

He looked content with his usual scowl, relaxing to a neutral expression. Finally, you settled for letting him sleep alone in his sleeping bag; eventually, you’d have to talk with him; he owed you a pair of socks after all.

When you were seeking a shield from the cold in your sleeping bag, exhaustion had already claimed your body. You were drifting to dreamless sleep.

You will regret this.

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Chap 2.

#shigaraki smut #shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x you #tomura shigiraki x reader #bnha smut #bnha x reader

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hometoursandotherstuff · 7 months

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Sweet! A beautiful 1939 rustic cottage in the woods of Snoqualmie Pass, Washington, an hour from Seattle. It has 1bd, 1ba, but it's not at all tiny. $560K.

Enter a nice entrance foyer with a bench and stairs to the 2nd fl.

Roomy open concept combination living room/kitchen. Notice the interesting shape of the home.

You could fit more furniture in here.

They've got a music area/entertainment area set up on this wall that can be changed.

The kitchen is well-equipped and has lots of storage.

Look at the nice laundry area in the bathroom.

Very nice bath.

Now back to the stairs in the entrance foyer to go up to the bedroom.

Isn't this the coolest room? The ceiling is spectacular. I'm wonder if there's a Murphy bed in the closet.

Isn't this an adorable reading nook?

She shed alert.

What a great cabin. There's even a hot tub.

Anyone for a little target practice?

Lot size: 10,018 sq.ft. The property is long and narrow.

It's beautiful here, and the property is secluded, but you can by the rooftops that there are neighbors around.

#cabin in the woods #unique homes #houses #house tours #home tour

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thefrogdalorian · 5 months

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Dincember Day 22: Cozy

Word Count: 855 Rating: General Summary: When Grogu wakes up upset in the middle of the night, both you and Din are concerned for him. But getting cozy and cuddling with his Clan soon brightens the little boy's mood. Content Warnings: Allusions to past trauma but nothing detailed! Author's Note: Oh to get cozy and cuddle with Din and Grogu. yEARN,, ING. Little shorter than my usual today because I had a busy (but very fun) day! Exchanging presents and catching up with friends always makes my heart so full at Christmas time. Hope you enjoyed this one! ♡

Link to read on AO3 | My Dincember Masterlist

You opened your eyes and instantly realised that something was different, what exactly you weren’t quite sure of. It wasn’t until you reached a hand out and discovered an empty, somewhat cold spot next to you on the cot that you realised Din was not next to you. It was the first night you were spending together in the cabin that he had brought to you for a snowy getaway. You were about to leap out of bed and search for Din, momentarily fearful that something terrible had happened, when the door opened and revealed a familiar figure.

You noticed as Din shuffled into the room that he was carrying Grogu. You looked at Din concernedly, wondering why Grogu was with him. It was not uncommon for Grogu to make his way into your room sometimes after you had slept. The child was occasionally prone to nightmares and used his abilities with the Force to leap into your bed and nestle between you and Din for comfort. You never minded, but Din fetching him like this was rare.

“Sorry, he woke me up. I could hear him crying from his room,” Din offered as an explanation for both his absence and Grogu’s presence.

“You don’t have to apologise,” You replied, sitting up.

“I just didn’t mean to wake you,” Din said as he handed Grogu to you and clambered into bed beside you.

“It’s alright, Din. You didn’t wake me up when you left. I guess I woke up eventually because I realised you weren’t here. The cot didn’t feel as cozy,” You reassured Din. Then you turned your attention towards the little boy in your arms who had apparently been upset: “What’s up with you, buddy?”

Grogu looked at you, his brow furrowed on his wrinkled head. His eyes were glassy from the tears he had seemingly been shedding.

“I don’t know if he had a nightmare. Perhaps the change of scenery and coming somewhere new has unsettled him,” Din suggested.

“Perhaps,” You agreed. Sometimes the reality of being unable to communicate with Grogu in words made things extremely difficult on your emotions. It was precisely a time like this when you wished more than anything that you could speak to him, to know what was going on inside his little head. “Whatever it is, I think he needs lots of cuddles. Do you want to sleep in here tonight with me and your dad?” You asked Grogu.

The little boy nodded slowly, still looking at you with wide, sorrowful brown eyes. Your heart ached at such a sight; your ordinarily vibrant, cheeky boy was deeply upset for some unknown reason.

“Okay, little guy,” You soothed as you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead once again.

Din lay back on the bed and you placed Grogu on his chest. The little boy shifted so he was nestled in the spot between his father's neck and shoulder. Din rubbed soothing circles on Grogu’s tiny back; you watched them fondly for a second, before you joined Din lying down. You positioned yourself on Din’s chest too, sighing happily when his arms wrapped around your waist as your cheek rested on his broad chest. You reached down to pull the blankets around your little Clan so you were all warm and comfortable, bundled up tightly from the horrors outside.

You heard a rustling next to you, watching as Grogu positioned himself closer to you so he was lying on Din’s chest, rather than nestled in the crook of his neck. You looked at Grogu, watching closely for any signs of discomfort on his face. But it seemed that a little time cuddling with you and Din had done wonders to soothe whatever anxieties he had. Fortunately, Grogu looked a lot happier. Knowing that he was warm and safe on his father's chest and cuddled up next to you, who cared for him just as deeply.

“Goodnight, Grogu,” You whispered as his enormous lids began to droop over his equally sizable eyes.

Seeing the upturn in Grogu’s demeanour meant that you could enjoy the coziness of the moment. Lying here in Din’s arms, knowing that you were comfy and snug underneath the layers of blankets from anything that lay outside was incredibly reassuring. You both knew pieces of Grogu’s life, things that he had been through that were more than any child should ever have to experience. But he had found a home, a safe haven and parents who loved him very much. Against all odds, Grogu had found sanctuary with you and Din, two people who had endured many trials and tribulations too. You felt incredibly lucky to have the two of them and that you had somehow, in a galaxy so vast, ended up by each other's side.

Your cheek rested on Din’s firm chest and you sighed contentedly as you listened to the reassuring, steady beats of his heart and the shallow, even breaths coming from Grogu, who was nestled beside you. With the weight of the blankets and your Clan by your side, you were certain that you had never felt more cozy.

#dincember 2023 #din djarin #din djarin fluff #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal characters #my fics #seriously so tired but happy i managed to write this !!#i went to my geek friends' house and we did a star wars quiz lmao i slayed at the mando questionssss

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weretheones · 1 year

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All You Got | Part 8

Part 8: Observant

Plot: Daryl Dixon hadn’t known much beyond anger and loneliness his whole life, until he found family at the end of the world. Everything he grew to care about was ripped away the day the prison fell; so when he recognized you, an enforcer of his loss, hiding in that cabin, he almost pulled the trigger. But after you end up saving his life, he couldn’t find the indifference to leave you for dead, even if you’d been on the Governor’s side. (Mid-Late Season 4)

Series Masterlist | AO3 Version

Paring: Eventual Daryl Dixon x Reader Word Count: 7.6k (oops) Warnings: typical twd content. mentions of death. a bit suggestive wink wink. A/N: hi hi. apologies for the late posting (again). exam season is in full swing and im drowning a bit. butttt, I managed to get this little (its the longest chapter yet lol) part out for you guys <3 just cause I love u so much. ps. the gif is a hint ;)

Every step west of that cottage distanced you further from the cold front following yesterday’s rain. The day hadn’t started exceptionally hot, but the week’s gradual dip in temperature made the sun’s increasing beat feel more eager than you’d known it as of late. The further you got, the more frequent sips you took from the lukewarm water bottle in your bag, even tying that sweater you’d been cuddling for warmth in, just yesterday, around your waist.

Daryl seemed alright, all things considered. His arm hadn’t proved too troublesome, but the area had proved relatively deserted anyway. The two walkers you came across were tired and slow. Not much of a threat. The heat didn’t seem to bother him, either; he hadn’t shed the flannel underneath his vest yet.

The sun was at its highest point in the sky when you met the border of the next town, a few hours later.

“You’ve been through here before?” You asked Daryl, pointing to your spot on the map while walking side by side down the first commercial strip of the town. The stores looked like something out of a movie, quant but full of country charm. If it hadn’t been for the boarded windows and rusted cars sitting in the road, it would’ve been a lively sight.

“When we first cleared the prison. Made our way through all the places nearby, too.”

“Couldn’t have left a little for us?” You teased, glancing up at him.

“There’s still some left. Shit we didn’t need.”

“Shit we might need?”

“Mhm. Lemme see tha’.” He grabbed the map from your hand, raising one of his own to block the sun from his eyes. He glanced over the paper, squinting at the tiny roads, then at the street sign above.

“We can take this to Red Oak.” He tapped the street lines on the map, then continued forward.

“What's on Red Oak?”

He looked over his shoulder with a slight smirk.

“Somethin’ we need.”

It wasn’t until halfway down Red Oak Drive that you realized what that was.

When it clicked, you smiled.

It was an auto repair shop. Daryl had been here before, briefly as he told it, but long enough to make note of a few vehicles still in good condition. One of which was an old, dark blue hatchback that only needed a new battery and some gas to get started again. It was still sitting in the backlot, bathed in the sun’s last harsh rays of the season after the two of you made your way around the building.

Daryl popped the hood. It was in the same condition as it was when he first found it, with a dead battery and dusty windows.

“Do we… recharge it?”

You didn’t know much about cars other than how to drive them.

“Unless ya got a generator I don’t know ‘bout,” Daryl quipped, to which you softly rolled your eyes. “We need a new one.”

“Well, there’s gotta be something here.” You looked back to the building.

“Mhm.” He nodded, closing the hood again. “Come on.”

He kicked the back door three times. You were surprised that hadn’t been enough to bring it down; it was a flimsy thing. They must’ve not worried much about burglars in a small town like this. The brick wall was sturdy, though. Ridged edges pressed into your shoulder as you leaned against it, one leg crossed over the other while the wait began. A breeze of crisp, much more seasonally appropriate air rushed by, fluttering your few loose pieces of hair; you’d have to redo that mess of a ponytail soon.

Daryl readjusted his hold of the crossbow, rolling his shoulders back— as well as he could, the left one was still noticeably stiff.

You weren’t subtle about keeping an eye on him.

“How’s the shoulder?”

His eyes squinted under the bright sun. “Fine.”

You raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

“’S a bit sore,” he admitted.

“I tried to tell you.” The loose smile on your lips was sympathetic, rather than teasing.

“I know.” Daryl chewed at his lip. “But, I know ya get why I couldn’t stay there, neither.”

You stood a bit straighter, and the smile slipped away.

“I do.”

Daryl nodded. The air was heavy, not only with the newfound heat but a lingering tension— knowing— between you. If there was anyone who could understand his urge to find what was left of his family, it was you. The night you told him about your brother was still fresh in memory. There had been a vagueness you kept about the whole thing, a tone that could have sounded like a casual acceptance of fate, but Daryl remembered that look in your eye. The tear that slipped past. He didn’t have any doubt that you’d searched as far as you could for him.

But some people were too far gone.

The shared silence between you two had grown comfortable these last few weeks. This one was different. Stretching seconds, then a minute, it made his muscles heavy. His weight felt unbalanced, even with two feet on the ground.

Daryl had never been good with words— unless you counted those snarky quips he made. He either didn’t think at all or thought too long. It made him snappy and surly, the type of man people would’ve avoided before this thing. Somewhere there was a list of names to prove it. And yet, he had something to say. He wanted to.

“Thank you,” he finally mumbled.

Your expression lifted at that. “For what?”

“For keepin’ an eye on me. Takin’ care’a me the way ya did.”

Still, you seemed confused. A knit of your brows and a sweet look in your eye as you tried to pick apart some deeper meaning. Of course, you helped him. That’s what you promised, back at the start.

“Of course,” you replied. “What else was I gonna do?”

“I didn’t think you were gonna leave or nothin’,” he said, recalling your conversation while patching him up. Loyal ran deep in you, like it did him, and he trusted that you wouldn’t just leave him to rot. “But a lot’a people would’a.”

Maybe that’s what he meant. Thank you for not being that person.

You blinked, readjusting your focus on his serious demeanour. He was reserved, his lips drawn in and eyes barely holding your stare.

“Well, that’s not us,” you said plainly.

A reminder that he’d given you that loyalty, too. You weren’t sure if there were words to express how it didn’t feel so difficult to give your attention and care to the health of the man who fought tooth and nail for you to live, even after all the harm you’d caused him. It wasn’t even that you felt you owed him, but you knew he deserved it.

Daryl gave you a small glimpse of a smile. Soft and sweet, like he was proving to be— deep down, at least. It drew a lopsided grin from you too. Your temple rested against the cool brick wall, and under the sun’s golden glow, you looked quite pretty like that. It was a talent, how quickly you could turn the charm back on; nothing else seemed to grab his attention the same way.

“After all, what are friends for?”

Daryl scoffed. He hoped he didn’t sound ungrateful when he blurted, “Tha’s wha' we are now?”

“I would say so. We keep saving each other’s lives and the conversation is half decent.” You shrugged, as if indifferent. But your smile had turned playful not long ago, about the same time he noticed a warmth at his cheeks.

He’d blame it on the heat, if you asked.

A second or two later, a walker slammed against the door.

Daryl’s shoulder wasn’t too restraining; he lured the lone monster out and freed his knife from its skull without breaking a sweat. You gave him a quick smile of acknowledgment before the two of you stepped inside.

The garage was in rough condition. A sign that was probably falling apart even before the world did, cheap tile floors, and a thick smell of mildew mixed with something decomposing— you were, unfortunately, quite knowledgeable about that smell, by now. The nicest thing about the building was that big roll-down window in the front that let the storefront become soaked in sunlight. The summer must’ve been a lot more tolerable with that wide open.

When the sunlight sneaking into the abandoned building didn’t reach far enough, Daryl held a flashlight in his mouth and scanned the store with his bow. His left shoulder was still stiff, so he had to depend on his other arm to bear most of the weight. Of course, you’d already tried to get him to keep it on his back, if anything, and take the gun instead— but he refused. All but demanded you keep the gun for yourself.

The two of you searched the aisles with quiet steps, waiting for another unfriendly face to jump out of the shadows.

It didn’t come.

Instead, you gathered the few supplies Daryl needed, even pocketed a pair of sunglasses that you were sure would be useless after today, and went back out to that warm autumn day. Sitting on that small bench by the side of the building, eyes protected from the sun, you watched Daryl pop the hood of the car. He was quick at work, dexterous fingers tinkering with different parts of the vehicle that you could barely label.

Between sips of water, your sight caught on those fingers— now smeared with grease— perhaps a second too long. When he turned to wipe his hands along that red rag in his back pocket, he noticed your lingering eye and paused.

Hesitated.

With the pair of you caught off guard, you tried to break the quickly growing tension and asked, “Were you an auto mechanic before?”

Daryl shook his head, bangs falling in his eyes as he did. He stretched underneath the hood again but spared you a glance back. Eyes squinted under the sun, the shine of sunlight hitting the grease along his exposed skin; the scene before you was beginning to look like something out of those ridiculous male model calendars.

“I jus’ know cars,” he rumbled, a slight smirk to match that thick accent.

It was getting absurd, really; the hot sun wasn’t the only thing making you blush.

You swallowed another gulp of water.

It turned out the battery issue wasn’t too complicated. Daryl recounted some of his steps to you, telling you about which wire connected to which point, and so on. It was valuable information, undoubtedly worth paying attention to. The only problem was that by that point, the sun’s beat had stripped him of his vest and hitched the sleeves of his flannel around his elbows. The fact that the top three buttons were undone, opening across that broad and bare chest of his, wasn’t lost on you, either.

It felt like a tease. He did.

All you could do was nod along with his rough drawl and lean against the cool brick wall while you tried to deny checking him out. But really, everything else came second place to the swell of that shirt around his biceps, and his tense, thick forearms. Muscles overworked after dealing with tight gears and heavy equipment.

The shade of those sunglasses was dangerous, giving you the excuse to let your eyes roam free all while Daryl was none the wiser— or so you hoped.

Thoughts you hadn’t entertained in a long time began to roam free, too. It hadn't bothered you when they left; survival was the top priority, not romance or desire. Of course, the lack of time and potential suitors was a factor, too— why would you think about that when there wasn't even a chance for it? But here you were now, staring at Daryl, and recalling that fluttering feeling of attraction in your gut all too well.

He was kind and strong. Whatever brute strength and resilience he had was matched with that three-sizes-too-big heart of his. After all, who else would take in an injured stranger, nevertheless one that attacked you just hours beforehand? Daryl might’ve blamed it on getting even, after you helped him from the window, but you knew there was something more behind that harsh stare of his.

Something delicate.

For whatever reason, you’d been lucky enough to see that gold-hearted nature firsthand. It sliced through his rough exterior, sparkling like a piece of glass caught in the sun. It was fragile, but you’d seemed to weave your way inside, anyway.

You inhaled— stop.

It might've felt otherwise, but there was still parts of Daryl you didn't know. Sometimes you forgot he was a man you’d known less than a month, been friends (barely) with less than two weeks. Even if he proved to be a good person, and was clearly easy on the eyes, from the obvious display ahead, these thoughts were intrusive. Perhaps an outcome of an idle mind. A natural attraction after a string of moments free of tension; all those life-or-death events bonded you, for better or worse, and as the urgency and blood washed off, you were falling victim to the full extent of that tie.

“Got tha’?”

“Mhm,” you faintly hummed.

He said your name— no, repeated it. Embarrassment snapped you back into focus. Here you were daydreaming and practically ogling the man, while he was trying to teach you something. Help you.

“Asked ya to grab another jug.” He gestured to the empty distilled water in his hand. Thank God, you were able to ignore that flex of his arm— mostly— when he did.

“Right, yeah, of course,” you stammered. He tossed you the small flashlight before you scurried back into the building. The dark, cool air was a welcome relief against your hot cheeks, and you hoped it’d bring down whatever flush had inevitably crept up your chest.

At least you had those sunglasses.

Maybe Daryl could feel your eyes roam his bare arms, chest, neck— stop— but you still had an inch of dignity left; he couldn’t prove it past the dark tint of those glasses, now sitting at the top of your head.

Strolling through those same aisles, you grabbed another jug and tried to shake the last of those thoughts from your mind. Like how his eyes were as blue as the pretty Georgian sky, and were quickly becoming a solace for you.

You were starting to like the looks he gave you— like he had while waiting at the door. It wasn’t that he was easy to read, no, you’d probably be fighting for a glimpse into those thoughts of his for the rest of your life. But every time you met those eyes that were once so harsh, you remembered the forgiveness he’d shared with you. The kindness. Perhaps it was a bit selfish because when you thought about that, it made something bloom deep in your chest. Something warm and sweet and good.

You wanted to share it with him too.

Somehow.

Helping him find his people was your first try. You hoped you wouldn’t need a second.

You grabbed the second jug of distilled water and turned to head back.

A thump came from behind.

It was odd. Two years spent in this world and yet, in a week, you’d reverted right back to that jumpy girl at the start. The air became thin, and you had to suck in a deeper breath just to keep your head straight. Heart pounding against your ribcage.

The last time you were in a dark store alone, it ended up with three people dead and Daryl shot.

You spun around, flashlight high. The light danced across the aisles, no walkers or living under the fluorescent glow. That wasn’t enough to soothe your anxieties, so you placed the jug on the ground next to you and grabbed your gun, instead.

It was then that your light landed on an exit sign. You could see the frame of a door below, in the far corner of the store. You approached it carefully, previously neglected as the pair of you assumed it was just a fire exit leading to that back alley, but now, with your heart still beating fast, you suspected something more lying behind that door.

You twisted the handle carefully, gun ready in the other hand, but it was locked.

You checked the front desk, found a ring of keys, and tried two before you found the right one. By then, your heart had slowed a bit. An engaged lock between you and that warning was slightly comforting, but you were still on edge. Finger ready by the trigger, if needed.

The door creaked open and you stepped inside.

Immediately, you found the source of the thump. A lone walker. Long, thin hair that was missing chunks and skin like leather stretched across its loosely hung open jaw. Its eyes were wide, staring out to the door you’d just walked through, but other than that low moan that rasped past its throat, it barely moved.

The walker was old and frail, decomposing in this backroom alone since, if you could guess, the start. It didn’t even try to crawl. It couldn’t, there was a heavy cast on its leg reaching up to its upper thigh. A mop lying on the floor— maybe the thump. A bottle of antifreeze sat next to it, a dried splash of something bumpy and red.

Puke.

She killed herself. Locked alone in a backroom, with a broken leg and no other choice.

The various ways you found the dead often reflected their last moments. Guts hanging out and bits of muscle torn from their flesh meant the obvious. Bullet and knife wounds, too. At the start, the mourning had almost been unbearable. Suffocating. Sympathy never stopped, there were simply too many roaming the world. It became dormant after one too many tried— and almost succeeded— to kill you. Then, something you only ever thought about in silent moments like this one.

You unsheathed your knife and stepped over the fallen mop. It was the least you could do.

The room was untouched. It didn’t have many valuables. Not for this world, anyway. There was a stack of cash and a nice bracelet in the bottom drawer of the desk, but nothing other than a couple of mints and a screwdriver that was worth keeping. In the top drawer, you found a single key on a thick, metal ring.

You pocketed it, just in case.

Other than the desk and those wobbly shelves filled with client records and taxes— a whole lot of paper— there was only that lumpy grey blanket, draped over something leaning against the wall, left to check out. You peeled it off carefully, but a cloud of dust surrounded anyway. Between coughs, you recognized what was underneath. The somber tone of the room lifted quickly, then.

From the front of the store, Daryl called your name. Apparently, you’d been taking too long and his suspicions had arisen.

“I’m okay!” you called back, clearing your throat one last time. “Be there in a second.”

Even though you knew even less about motorcycles than you did about cars, you smiled as you gripped the handles. You were betting Daryl knew about bikes, too. You kicked up the stand and moved the bike through the store. Twisting it around the aisles and picking up that leftover jug of distilled water as you did.

“I found something.” You grinned as you stepped back into the sunlight.

Daryl’s eyes widened when he saw what you were leading.

“No way.” He said, wiping his hands across the red rag, before stuffing it back into his pocket. “Where’d ya find this?”

“Backroom. We missed it earlier.” You pulled out the keys you found as Daryl quickly grabbed the bike.

His hands ran over the handles, then the seat.

“And I think I found the key.”

He had a ridiculous grin plastered across his face. You hadn’t even realized he could smile like that.

“Pass ‘em ‘ere.”

You dropped the ring in his open palm as he straddled the bike, thighs on either side. He looked down at the beast of a vehicle between his legs like it was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

And then he looked back at you with that same look, and it almost made those intrusive thoughts from earlier seem a bit less insane.

You were sure you had a goofy grin of your own. “You know how to ride one of these?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry. Stupid question,” you chuckled, eyes roaming over his leather vest— back on— and patchwork jeans. You never liked stereotypes, but Daryl sure was one sometimes.

“Jus’ a bit,” he quipped.

“You know,” you mumbled, smile growing, “I’ve never been on one.”

“Never?”

“Nope.”

“Well, come on, girl.”

You certainly didn’t need convincing. He shuffled forward, giving you the space to swing your leg over the seat behind him. At first, your hands grabbed at the spot, maneuvering your balance into a comfortable sit— but the overwhelming sight of Daryl's exceptionally broad back, draped in that black leather vest, soon had you squirming again.

“Ya gotta hold on to me, alright?”

“Okay,” you mumbled. You placed your shaky hands on his sturdy shoulders, like handlebars of your own. It was lucky that he was wearing that vest now—an extra layer between your skin and his— because you were pretty sure your palms were slick with sweat by that point.

“Not there.” Daryl’s hand wrapped around the bend of your elbow, gently pulling your hands down. “Don’t need ya diggin’ a finger in my scab.”

Then he repositioned them around his waist.

Like it had been nothing.

It had— you reminded yourself. Whatever bothered thoughts that kept slipping into mind today were an exception. Maybe your period was coming back. Or maybe that hot sun had melted away every bit of self-control you had left.

“Ya might wanna hold on a bit tighter. It goes fast.”

Your lungs constricted. Suddenly this felt wrong. Dangerous.

“Wait— what about your shoulder? Should you be moving it—”

“‘M movin’ it less sittin’ on this thing than off’a it.”

“Well, shouldn’t we be wearing helmets or something?”

The vibration of his laugh echoed through his back, which you were practically pressed up against. You might've cared more about his flippant attitude if he hadn’t reverberated a particularly soothing warmth back into you.

“You chickenin’ out?”

“No. I’m just remembering every motorcycle crash horror story my brother told me.”

“He ride?”

“God, no. He was an ER nurse.”

“Well, we ain’t gonna crash.” Daryl rolled his shoulders back, and your grip tightened already. Nerves overcoming you. “Promise.”

His confidence was reassuring. His firm body, even more so.

“Alright then.” You nodded and the engine roared to life.

Daryl’s feet lifted off the ground, landing on the rests just in front of yours. He found his balance quickly, even with you wrapped around his back. The pace was slow at first, a steady crawl that seemed overpowered by the loud rumble of that engine below.

Then, when he finally passed the lot, he shot down the street.

You couldn’t even guess how fast he was going. The world around you started to slip away, a lost frame of reference. The trees lining the road blurred into splatters of green and red, like a watercolour painting, and the wind rustled through those strands of hair that hadn't made it into your ponytail this morning. Racing through the breeze, that chill came back. Cold, little shards of air splintering across your face and hands.

The sudden bolt of movement made your stomach drop, that fluttering feeling of emptiness finding its spot. It reminded you of riding a rollercoaster as a kid, holding your brother’s hand tight and putting on a brave face as the big sister. It might’ve worked all those years ago, but you were pretty sure he’d be laughing at you now. You squeaked like a mouse, digging your face into the warm leather at Daryl’s back. The threading of his angel wings tickled your face alongside your wild hair, and you felt that familiar rumble in his chest again.

“Ya alright?” He yelled back.

You sucked in a fresh breath of air and peeked an eye open. It felt like the bravest peek in the world— the blurry, fast world. Though still huddled behind Daryl, with a vice grip around his steady waist, you were sure it didn’t appear very courageous to anyone else.

“Fine!” You managed to reply, “I just didn’t expect that.”

His gruff voice was harsher when he had to speak over that deafening engine. You barely made out his next sentence: “Want me to slow down?”

You thought about it. But by the time you understood his offer, your eyes had opened completely, almost adjusted to the speed of the world around you. You even sat up properly, looking to your left as he raced past a strip of abandoned cars. That floating feeling inside your chest began to feel less dizzying, like Daryl’s waist was a tether to gravity as the bike ripped down the streets. He was always positioned firm and steady, like that beat of his heart you could feel against your cheek. You trusted him to keep you solid, even as the wind picked up.

“No,” you practically squealed with a newfound excitement. “Keep going!”

Much to your increasing delight, he kept that speed until you noticed a group of walkers at the end of the long-stretching road. He slowed down to turn, the joy and carefree adventure stained with reality, once again. The engine was loud. You glanced behind as Daryl bolted back through the street you’d just gone down, the blurry heads of the dead turning toward you in the distance. It’d been as good a sign as any to head back, with the gas slowly dwindling too.

When you reached the car garage again, the bike crawled back through the lot, allowing you to finally take a deep breath and catch that fluttering feeling in your stomach. The bike paused and the engine turned off. The stark difference in noise was shocking— some time down that road you forgot just how loud the engine was, and just how quiet the rest of the Earth was nowadays.

Daryl sat back, hands limply grasping the handlebars, head bowed to the beast of a motor below him. He seemed content from behind. Relaxed.

You leaned around his shoulder. “End of the line?”

He seemed to snap back into focus then, glancing at you.

“Gas is runnin’ low anyway.”

You nodded, but added hopefully, “Maybe we can find more?”

“We should use it for the car.”

You sighed, “I know.”

The engine was still warm underneath your legs. Your disappointment was just as fresh. That could’ve been your first and only chance on the back of a bike, for all you knew.

“Good first ride then?”

“Are you kidding?” You laughed. “I get it now. Horror stories be damned.”

He chuckled, even throwing you another glance back. But the second after your eyes met, his grin fell an inch. He turned his face away, too, and it hadn’t only taken a second longer for you to notice how close he was like this. You still wrapped around his back.

“Ya gotta move so—”

“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, climbing off the bike. Trying to steady yourself on the ground was harder than you anticipated; your legs felt like jelly, already missing the smooth leather beneath you.

Your eyes caught on Daryl's vest as he also got off.

In front of you.

The bike balanced on its stand, Daryl on one side and you on the other. Something caught his attention, just above your eyes.

“Ya got…” He gestured with a lazy hand around the top of his head.

Your eyes went wide, hand flying up to the wild mess of your hair.

You patted down a patch. “There?”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, giving you the ghost of a smile.

You felt it again. Butterflies.

Fuck.

---

By the time you finished siphoning gas from the other cars, Daryl was done fixing the blue one. Throwing your few bags in the backseat, you climbed inside. You in the passenger seat, him behind the wheel. He liked to drive. It seemed to calm him, from that loose expression he wore.

“We’ll keep drivin’ west, see wha’ we can find.” Daryl gripped the steering wheel with one hand. The other lingered by his mouth, thumb occasionally gnawed at. “Can siphon gas from the cars on the road. Hunt for food, sleep in the back.”

“A home on wheels.” You rolled down the window as the car began to drift down the same streets you’d just sped through. The wind was softer than it had been on the bike. You already missed that terrifying, joyful freedom.

There was another way you could chase it, you realized. You started to dig through the glove compartment.

“Whatcha lookin’ for?”

“CDs, hopefully.”

His eyes flickered over you. Hair now brushed, let loose from that ponytail and tucked behind your ear as you leaned forward. The sun was still strong late into the afternoon, direct rays landing across the dashboard and reflecting onto you. It explained that glow you had.

“God, I’d listen to anything at this point.”

Daryl glanced over to the road, but his attention didn’t slip off you completely.

It never seemed to, anymore.

“Here.” You popped the cd from its case and rubbed it against the soft fabric of your sweater. “Can’t believe this is the only one. Who the hell owned this car?”

Daryl’s lip twitched up at your soft snark. “You a music snob or somethin’?”

“No.” You rolled your eyes. “I was just hoping for something better.”

With one hand off the wheel, he clicked on the radio. Static rumbled from the speakers until he slid the dusty cd inside. The dark melody was slow, something that reminded him of those nights in the same run-down bar in the early nineties. A favourite of his uncle, then his brother, and while the pair of them served a stint in jail, Daryl’s.

It was strange, feeling better off without your family by your side. But Daryl had all his life to get used to that thought. It wasn’t until he made his own family, then lost them, that he felt the opposite. He missed that group more than he could say, missed that feeling of purpose they gave him.

Though, as the days rolled on, you were beginning to fill that ache in his chest, too.

“Sure there’s nothin’ else in there?”

You checked again, but it was mostly a polite gesture. There hadn’t been much in there, anyway. A pair of old gloves that you’d already stuffed in your bag, some tissue, the lone cd, and a brochure.

“Only this.” You flickered through the pages of the sale brochure. It was for the development of a small community, units starting in the low three hundreds. The prospective opening date was off by a few years, though. You doubted they’d even broken ground before everything fell apart.

“You really don’t like it?”

“Ain’t exactly a fan,” he grumbled. There was a flash of disappointment across your face, caught in the corner of his eye. His frown lifted a bit. “’S fine, though. Ain’t a big deal, neither.”

“What are you a fan of then?” You tossed the brochure back inside the box. “Now that we have a radio, next time I’m scavenging I’ll keep an eye out.”

Daryl thought for a moment. “I dunno. Only really listened to what Merle liked.”

You blinked, brows knitting a centimetre closer.

“You spent a lot of time with him?”

“When he was around.”

Something stung in your chest. No, your heart. From the sparse details Daryl spared about his brother, Merle didn’t seem the reliable type. Every story he told was followed with stiffness. Those memories were distant and cold— the type of coolness that grew from hurt, not time.

You knew to tread lightly.

“What’d you guys do?”

“Whatever.” Daryl shrugged. “Drank. Went huntin’. Nothin’ special.”

“So you hunted even before this?”

“Mhm.”

“Merle taught you?”

“My dad.”

“Oh.”

Daryl had never mentioned a parent before. Given the age gap, you’d assumed Merle had probably raised him a good chunk of his childhood. When he was around, anyway.

That cold tone Daryl had for his brother extended to his father, also. A part of you wondered if that hurt had been deep, too. Maybe as deep as those scars on his back.

It was an insensitive thought. Unfair. Daryl didn’t owe you anything, and he certainly didn’t deserve you stuffing your nose in his family’s business.

“Do you like hunting?”

“I liked the forest. Liked eatin’.” It was better than being home. “But I didn’t do it ‘cause I liked it. Was jus’ somethin’ I had to learn.”

With a nod, you went quiet. A softly contemplative look on your face. It piqued his interest, a flutter of nerves catching in his gut.

“Why ya askin’?”

“Just curious,” you answered. “You’re the only person I’ve had out here that didn’t jump at every snap of a branch.”

“Well I got practice,” he said. “Stuck with a lotta city folk, then?”

You turned back to him then, a sly smile hanging off your lips. “I’m city folk.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

You laughed, “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Cause you’re jumpy, too,” Daryl scoffed. “Scared’a your own damn shadow.”

“I like the forest,” you defended with a slight pitch to your words. It made Daryl smirk, too. “I just don’t like how dark it can get. It’s freaky. I’ll never get used to it. Maybe all those bright city lights mess with your brain after all.”

Daryl nodded, and he knew the moment had presented itself. The tone shifted a bit serious when he finally asked the question that’d be pressing him.

“Atlanta, then?”

“Briefly.” You nodded. “My brother and I were visiting before everything happened.”

“Heard it was bad there.”

It was. It’d taken a long time to stop waking up in a sweat with memories of that night.

Still, you shrugged. “It was bad everywhere.”

“Yeah, but they weren’t droppin’ bombs everywhere.”

“I got out before that.”

Good timing.

“We were only there for two weeks. If the trip had been a month later, or earlier, we wouldn’t have been anywhere close to Georgia when this thing hit.”

Daryl felt something fester in his gut. Anxiety? That distant, non-existent what-if made him shift in his seat. He could feel it looking over your side profile— the curve of your nose and lips, the soft flutter of eyelashes— and it hit him like that bullet had. Fast.

It was true. You’d grown on him. He cared.

“You’re not from Georgia?”

You shook your head. “Nope.”

“Explains the accent.”

“Or lack thereof,” you countered. “I like yours though. It's charming.”

Daryl scoffed, and you gave him a look.

“What? I’m being serious. You have a nice voice.”

A pretty shade of light pink scattered across his cheeks. You couldn’t help that loose smile you wore. It was nice to make him nervous, for once. Of course, you weren’t about to rub it in his face. You glanced away, eyes caught in the fast shades of green, orange, and red passing by the window.

“What about you? Where were you at the start?”

Daryl cleared his throat. “Same place I’d always been. Hometown.”

“You never left?”

“Nah.”

“Not even for college or…”

His grip on the steering wheel tightened, and he tried not to side-eye your reaction when he finally muttered, “Didn’t go.”

Though that part of him that held all those pessimistic, self-doubts was a strong force to be reckoned with. He didn’t need to prove himself— never cared to before— but now here he was, sitting with that gnawing feeling in his gut, wanting to.

And yet, you barely even shrugged.

“I almost didn’t go, either,” you said nonchalantly, eyes running over the back of the CD case. “You ever wish you had, though?”

“Nah.”

“Fair enough. I think you could’ve been good at it, though. You’re very…”

Daryl waited, brow hitched as you hummed.

“Intuitive.” You’d decided. “You know, you have good instincts. Sometimes it feels like you know what’s gonna happen before it does.”

He sat with those words a moment, then offered one of his own: “Observant.”

“Yeah, exactly. Maybe you could’ve been a lawyer… Or a cop.”

“Nah,” Daryl huffed. “Cops ’n I never got along well.”

“No?” You teased. “You used to get into trouble, Dixon?”

“Merle did. Guess I tagged along for the ride.” He shrugged. “Like I said, I was a dumbass.”

“You being a dumbass— that’s hard to imagine.”

“I didn’t have to,” he quipped.

You smiled at the easy wit that always just seemed to flow from him.

“So you didn’t leave town before this?”

“Not really. Never even left Georgia.”

“Seriously?”

He shook his head.

“Well, maybe after we pick up your friends we can go on a road trip.”

Daryl gave you a look. It was questioning, sure, but gentle. “Plannin’ on stickin’ around then?”

“Well, I uh…” you paused. Curiously, you hadn’t thought about it much. Since those initially tense first days together, the possibility of parting ways with Daryl, not because of a feverish worry or a herd, but because your shared journey had reached an end, hadn’t come to mind often. The two of you hadn’t been together long, but you’d already been through a lot. Patching the other up, too many close calls to count, sharing what little supplies you had… just to say ‘see ya!’ after everything felt wrong. Incomplete.

“If you’d let me. I don’t really have anywhere else to go— anyone else.”

“Alright.” Daryl nodded.

It was a short acknowledgement. A single word. It still made you smile.

Daryl wasn’t like most people. He was forgiving and insightful. He let you live when you probably deserved to die because he wasn’t like most people. All you knew about the others was that they’d earned Daryl’s loyalty at some point, and made their own way into his sentiment, too. If he trusted them, you hoped that meant you could too.

Hoped.

Worry crept back in. Maybe the others wouldn’t want you there. The stain of the prison could’ve been enough to taint your reputation, completely, even if Daryl vouched for you. And, if it came down to it, choosing between you and them, there was no doubt in your mind. He wouldn’t pick the girl he knew for a couple of weeks over his real family.

It poured out faster than you meant. Words slipped, mumbled and stuttered, “You think they might— might wanna kill me? Or, I don’t know, cut me loose?”

“Tha’ ain’t gonna happen.” Daryl watched the road. “They’re good people. Like you.”

The weight of worry lifted off your chest again. He had a talent for that.

You smiled.

Good people.

You tried to hide the flush at your cheeks and chest, glancing out the window. “How’d you find them anyway?”

“At the start, Merle ’n I were in the middle’a huntin’. Didn’t even know ‘bout the walkers until I found one out there, ’n it tried to take a bite outta me.”

“Shit,” you hissed.

“Douchebag was all over me. Smelt somethin’ awful. I started yellin’, screamin’ at the thing. Punchin’ him. He jus’ kept coming, then Merle shot it.” He scoffed, “Thought I was ‘bout to serve hard time for murder, till Merle said he’d heard something on the truck’s radio ‘bout dead bastards comin’ back to life. We left for Atlanta after tha’.”

“Refugee camps?”

“Never made it. That was when we found the others on the road. We stayed up by a quarry for a while. It wasn’t safe, so we kept movin’, till we found the prison. ‘Bout a year ago.”

“You stayed there a year?”

Daryl nodded. “We lost a lot gettin’ there. Made somethin’ of it, though.”

“I didn’t think anything like that could be real.” You shook your head.

He met your look. It’d gone from smiling to serious in a few sentences. That slight bite at your lip, a quiver in your brow.

“It was," he said.

“Do you think you could ever have that again?”

Of course, he’d thought about it. Even if he tried not to, those memories of the prison and the community they built from a grey, desolate building— a prison— were overwhelming. It was the first time in maybe his whole life that he felt a purpose. People didn’t just depend on him. They accepted him. They liked him.

He stole another look at you. That bloom of familiarity was deep in his chest, again.

“Maybe.”

---

Another hour passed. The sun was softer, a cold breeze shifting through that open window until you finally rolled it back up. You still stared outside, watching the trees slip by.

Daryl had traced the backroads back to the main road leaving the prison, and you’d been travelling west since. The same way he’d seen the bus go. It seemed strange that they hadn’t come up with an official rendezvous spot, just a last chance at loading on that bus together. But maybe a more detailed plan would’ve been useless anyway; places didn’t last long, nowadays.

The car rolled to a stop. Your head lulled to face forward, finding a slight ache in your neck when you finally tore your eyes away from the window. A question sat at the tip of your tongue, about to slip when your eyes landed on the answer.

Instead, you gasped, “Oh my God.”

There, sitting in the road, was the bus.

Splatters of blood painted the siding. A dozen or so bodies sprawled by the back door. Some were piled on top of each other, limbs mixed. Others lay alone. All of them had turned before they were put down for good.

You could just tell.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed his white-knuckle grip around the steering wheel. The veins in his hands popped out, muscle turned into stone, and there was no use in glancing up at him; you already knew that look of pain— despair— he had. Could practically feel him begin to bottle up every word, emotion, or care.

You were the first one to exit the car.

Goosebumps broke out on your skin as a cold breeze took hold. That chill sunk into your skin with the sound of the second door opening, and something stiff and heavy clouded behind you.

It was coming from him. You knew that already. It made that pit of dread in your gut even heavier.

Was it fury he was feeling? Grief?

Even when you finally did glance back at him, lingering by the car's side, you still couldn’t say for sure. That glossy look in his eye was certainly bitter. Tense with emotion that you knew he was fighting to reign in. It left him with a dark glare as he stared at the dead faces of his people— the only ones he’d known for sure got out. He had practice keeping that type of anger silent. Not the one that made you punch some asshole at the bar, but the type that was born out of misery and regret.

He’d been abrasive at the cabin. Then softer after the pharmacy. Even strained in the cottage, with you tending to his back. But he’d never forced himself numb before, not like this. You could tell he was holding back. A guttural scream, you thought, from the tension in his neck and that vein threatening to pop out where a swollen bump had been a few days prior.

But his lips drew shut in a taut line, and he was quieter than the rustle of the trees.

It made your stomach knot. Though, you were sure it was no worse than what he might have been feeling— if he'd let himself. His only lead: bloody, dead, and rotting in the middle of the road. If you’d kept driving, the tires would’ve ripped through decaying muscle and crushed bone.

It wasn’t fair.

The gas station. His wounds. The bus. These people, lying like trash on the road. No more significant than the withering leaves beside them.

There wasn’t the time, nor the energy, to spend digging graves. But you dragged each limp body, one by one, to the side of the road. Right where the grass bled into the concrete, they laid.

Sometime around the third body, Daryl began to help. He picked up the opposite limb with his good arm, then eventually his bad one too.

Nothing but that gloss across his eye to tell you these people meant anything to him. He was retreating by the second. Crawling back into that ugly pit of animosity and cynicism that always seemed to have a spot waiting for him. Each body you moved reaffirmed it. Pushed him deeper as hollow eyes fell on the cold faces of the people he cared about. He fed. He protected.

Or, tried to.

It was never enough.

-> part 9

A/N: so much happened in this part I mean... reader finally realizing she might have a lil crush on him... the bike ride... the car conversation... THE BUS

anyway. back to our regular scheduled bad shit happening to our fav fictional characters. if u have any predictions or thoughts, lmk :p

FYI: I'm expecting to miss next weeks posting. I have too much to do with exams, sorry! after that ill be graduated so lots of free time coming up lol.

if you’re reading this, thank you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. please feel free to leave feedback, it helps so much and I love to read it. have a lovely day <3

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #Daryl Dixon / you #Daryl Dixon / reader #daryl / you #daryl / reader #daryl dixon series #the walking dead #twd #twd fanfiction #twd daryl #norman reedus #the walking dead fanfic

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notbadforafailedvessel · 1 year

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Batcina AU - Part I

Not many knew Alcina had another transformation.

Just like her draconic form is the signal of losing control of her mutation, her bat form indicates her most healthy state, feeding herself correctly to keep the reins over the cadou.

However, it's not a form Alcina is fond of turning into because as a bat she's more fragile and vulnerable, making her feel mortal.

Also because it made her feel humiliated. How was it possible that a woman of her height, capable to provoke fear and intimidation ended up turning into a tiny creature that could be considered adorable?

One night, Alcina decides to go out on her own after listening some gossip about hunters, once again, planning to attack the castle, wanting to deal with it once and for all instead of waiting for them.

She spots the group right away, the gang not even bothering to go unnoticed with the torchs in their hands.

Alcina wonders, boringly, licking her claws clean, if humans were becoming more stupìd. She had killed the group so easily. Why even trying an attack when it seemed they didn't even bother to come up with a plan to at least make it thrilling?

The last thing she expected was finding herself surrounded by a bunch of people in the next second.

The village didn't count with such quantity so it was clear that people from other places had joined for the assault.

She fights without hesitation, but sometimes her height ends up being a disadvantage despite her strength.

Alcina had never faced so many people at the same time, much less people who actually counted with a plan for the confrontation, and even though she would have prefered to deal with this on her own, she was aware it wasn't going to be possible.

Despite it wouldn't be enough to kill her, the large amount of weapons coated with holy water and silver bullets striking her skin over and over again were enough to make an impact and weaken her.

She decides what's best is let Mother Miranda know what they are facing, that this time it's wasn't just an heretic group from the village as they were used to but a whole mob.

Alcina turns into a bat, small and nimble, confusing the people around her by her sudden disappearence to fly away.

But there was a hunter with hawk sight that noticed the creature that wasn't common to see in those lands, who is capable to hit the target, piercing Alcina's wing with his arrow before she managed to disappear entirely from his sight.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You live on the village but somewhat isolated, after experience the nastiness of people, you preferred it that way.

You are getting ready for bed when you listen a crash outside, startling you.

After waiting a few seconds, making sure there wasn't further commotion and waiting for your heartrate to slow down, you decide to investigate.

Holding a lantern, you step outside your cabin, not finding anything out of the ordinary at first sight but then you notice the fallen buckets in the front of your garden shed, knowing that's not how you left them.

You squat in time to see a bat shaking its head, shaking off the dizziness of the hit, using its wings in an attempt to get up just to tumble to the right side, which makes you notice the tear of the wing membrane.

"Oh, you poor thing," you whisper, placing the lantern on the ground, your eyebrows furrowing with concern. Without thinking, you reach out to take the animal in your hands, not surprised when it hisses at you, finally realizing of your presence, but you do stop before achieving your goal. "I know, I know. I just want to help you, I promise." You keep one hand close to the animal so it realizes you are not a threat.

The bat freezes, its golden eyes locking with yours instead of inspecting your offered hand, looking at you in what it could be considered, a scrutinizing way.

You are befuddled by it, used to animals getting desperate in their attempt to escape and seek refuge to lick their wounds. Instead it felt like you are being inspected.

Alcina would prefer to escape and leave the mortification she is feeling behind. But after the unexpected attack she received, it wasn't possible for her to turn into her human form, she was too weak to even try it.

She looked at the person in front of her, knowing she would have to depend of them for a while because she was aware that she wouldn't be capable to make the rest of the flight. For a reason she had fallen during it. Unable to fly or move easily, it wasn't going to be possible to take care of herself on her own.

It wasn't something Alcina liked but needed, reason why she still hissed at them once she finally moved, crawling carefully over the offered hand. She hoped they were smart enough to get the message.

You smile when the bat settles down on your palm, noticing its body fits perfectly on it, its healthy wing folded against it while the other one is spread to the side not to aggravate it further.

You scratch softly the bat's head with your index finger, in a reassuring gesture, to then take the lantern with your free hand and stand up, making your way back to the cabin.

Alcina huffs at the petting. "It seems they aren't smart enough. Or at least they are smart enough to remove their finger before I had the chance to bite it." She sighs dramatically, already abhorring what would come in the next weeks.

Part II, Part III, Part IV

I would like to make a special shoutout to @ctitan98 because watching them share their AUs inspired me to finally share mine instead of keeping them in my mind and most likely never coming to life in any way, lol. Thank you so much for blessing us with your Alcina content!

#alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #i've had this au in my mind for so long and i would have loved to write an entire story for it #but my brain has abandoned me when it comes to writing full stories 😭#so i decided to do this... better than nothing #and when it comes to alcina any kind of content is welcomed amirite?#so i might do more of these :3 #hd.txt #hdad.txt #txt: ad

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m-y-fandoms · 1 year

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COMMISSION: Nagito Komaeda x Reader - Love Hotel

Details: V3 has the Love Hotel/Love Key scenarios - I’ve been asked to make a version for SDR2 as if it were canon in the second game as well. If you didn’t play V3 and aren’t familiar with the Love Hotel scenarios/scenes, don’t worry, Monokuma will explain the concept early on in the fanfiction below! Also, I don’t think I used any gendered terms for the reader, it just didn’t come up/wasn’t necessary with the details I was describing. So, anyone can read this with themselves in mind.

Warnings: Spicy but not NSFW - mature themes and romance into a fade to black/implied at the end just like the actual V3 Love Hotel scenes. Would probably be Mature but not Explicit on AO3 - Also SDR2 spoilers!!!

Word Count: 4k words

When hanging out with your peers and exploring the island, you often found these little Monokuma coins tucked behind objects or hidden under things. These “Monocoins” could be exchanged at the Monomono gacha machine for prizes. Some were tiny, and some had no business even fitting inside the machine. It was a wonder how they got there. In between the stress of the killings and trials, it was nice to exchange little gifts that said “I see you, and I trust you, and I want to be closer to you” with the friends you had left. The Monomono machine often rewarded you with intriguing and seemingly targeted items. For example, when you got a magazine on beast breeding and taming, it was clearly meant for your exchanges with Gundham Tanaka. When wound gauze or a nurse’s apron dropped from the machine, it was obviously a sign to get to know Mikan.

Today’s trinket was a mystery to you: an ornate key - golden with a pink heart-shaped gem embedded onto its handle. It dropped into your hand as you popped it out of the gacha capsule that protected it. It was a nice size, probably to a door rather than say, a locket or jewelry box.

Immediately upon receiving it you began to look for what it unlocked. It didn’t seem like a gift subliminally meant for any of your friends, so instead you chose to find a little adventure in all the chaos, a treasure hunt of sorts. You’d tried little tool sheds or abandoned buildings around the first three islands, back doors or closets inside places like the market or pharmacy. The pink gem made you think of Monomi - or rather Usami. It matched her aesthetic and color scheme. You’d questioned her about it, and she seemed to draw a blank. You felt like she was being honest with you, so you moved on. A frustrating thought began brewing in your mind: maybe the key went to a door on an island that was still locked away from you and your peers. Perhaps the bridges guarded by Monobeasts blocked your path. Unfortunately, following the ongoing pattern, someone would have to die for a new island to become accessible, and that was most defintiely not worth sating your burning curiosity. And so, you asked your closer friends, such as Hajime and Chiaki, to keep an eye out for a possible clue, but ultimately let it go, tossing the key into a accessory dish on the beside table of your cabin.

Speaking of your cabin, there you were, winding down for the night in your customized little cottage in the lineup of huts at the resort. It was cozy, a personalized type of dorm room substitute decked out with items to serve and encourage the development of your Super Highschool Level talent. The cream-colored canopy bed was pretty large for single student and super comfortable, and so on days when the survivor’s guilt wasn’t weighing on your mind like a plague, it was very easy to fall asleep quite quickly.

You’d been asleep for what must’ve been at least a couple of hours when a noise startled you awake. Still groggy and half-asleep, you spot the black and white bear you all hated so very much standing in the middle of your cottage.

“What the…” your words slurred, eyes barely open. You would’ve been freaking out at his appearance, had it not been extremely normal for the bear to pop up out of nowhere. That and the fact that it was against Monokuma’s rules for him to ever hurt a student on his own left you at ease and not fearing for your life.

“Oh, great, you’re awake! Would’ve been awkward if I had to crawl up on the bed and shake ya’ to life! Phew, saves me the trouble!” He giggled in his own little mischievous way as you sat up, giving him mostly your full attention. He never left until he made his point anyway, so why waste time arguing with him for interrupting your beauty sleep?

“Alright, alright what do you want? I’m still tired! Unless someone is dead, say what you need to say and leave…” you grumbled. Monokuma bristled at that.

“How rude! My time is very valuable, you know! Since you’ve been hurting your puny little brain trying to find the solution to that Love Key over there, here I am, going out of my way to help you! You should be more appreciative!” He growled, claws displayed.

“Love Key…?” You looked to the key on your bedside table, still in a bit of a daze. “So that’s what it’s called…” Still not much of a hint, you thought.

“Yep, yep! I’ll tell you how to use it!” He perked up once again. “You see, it opens the way to a very special place! A place you’ve searched many times before… however, it’s form has now changed!”

“Hmmm…” How curious… since you had in fact checked every available area multiple times over.

“You see, if you go visit the motel on the third island right about now, you’ll find it buzzing with an aura of lust and romance!” Your brow raised as he laughed impishly. “That key you got transforms the motel into a place you can clear out some of your most carnal desires at night, but… only the one with the key and… one other person will see this change!”

“What are you talking about?!” You were only half-awake before, but now you were sure you had to still be dreaming. What an insane concept. This is what he came to say? This nonsense?

“Oh, are you starting to get worked up? Are you ready to let it all hang out?” He began to sweat, a wicked, messed up grin on his face. “Your key will unlock a particular Love Suite at the motel,” he continued, barely containing his excitement, “and you and one other person will be invited to spend the night. There, you will be a part of that person’s fantasy. They will see you as their romantic ‘ideal’ and basically just swoon all over you. Think of it as a kind of sexy dream that lets you escape the cruel reality of the killing game! It’s their escape, too though, so it’s important for you to play the role your Love Suite partner wants you to! If you break character, your dear partner may very well wake up in anguish, all pent up and frustrated! And you wouldn’t want that, would you?” He snickered.

“This all sounds very inappropriate and embarrassing, so I think I’ll pass.” You grumbled, shuffling uncomfortably in your sheets. At this point, you just wanted him to go away.

“Oh, don’t worry! What happens there, stays there. Memories are wiped when you exit. Oh, and one last thing: anyone can show up there. Any of your classmates, even those who’ve passed on.

Well now, you had to be dreaming. Memories wiped, the motel transforming, and not to mention four of your classmates were very much dead… how could they show up? Seeing the look on your face, incredulous and lost in thought, Monokuma gasped softly to grab your attention, speaking up again:

“What’s wrong? You seem skeptical. Why not try it out for yourself, then?” If Monokuma were allowed to cause a killing, you’ve sworn this was a plot to set you up. Not that it mattered in a dream, anway. “Let love take hold! Take that ol’ Love Key for a spin!”

After much hesitance and with Monokuma having left your cabin nearly a half hour beforehand, you were now out walking alone, leaving the resort and making your way to the third island. You tried not to disturb your other classmates in their cabins, being sure not to make any noise as it must have been well past one in the morning. Sand and gravel crunched below your shoes as you walked rather hurriedly to the long wooden bridge that connected the islands. Moonlight shined off of your pajamas in the cool tropical night breeze, giving a small relief from the usual humidity, and if you weren’t sure this were a dream, you would’ve felt like an idiot, opening yourself up to being an easy target for a killing.

You wrapped your arms around your waist nervously. In the end, you were too curious not to try it out, but you had to admit, you were still mulling it over in your brain:

Their ideal… a shared fantasy… So they wouldn’t really see you as you are per se… but what did that mean? Did that mean that if they liked submissive cute pretty boys, that’s how you appeared to them? If they wanted a buff aggressive woman, you’d suddenly grow muscles? Would it all be an illusion? Maybe just your personality would change…

Play along, Monokuma had said…

Passing the hospital and music venue, you approached the motel and immediately noticed the change. The retro sign out front was now decked out in pink and red neon lettering boasting the words Love Motel. The building itself, once dingy, dirty and forgettable, now had spotlights and strobes out front and the yellow, beige and brown chipped paint had transformed into a Valentine’s-type aesthetic. Pinks, reds, whites, the typical colors of the heart and romance surrounded you and gave the motel a whole new vibe. The line of ground-level rooms were still present, and though you assumed your key only lead to one of them, you’d have no trouble figuring out which. One door in particular, smack dab in the middle seemed to be pulsing with life. The paint seemed to be a shade darker on this door, and pink smoke spilled out from underneath the crack. It was like it was luring you in, tempting you to enter. It was as if pheromones leaked from its crevices. You placed a shaky hand on the door knob, entered the key with the other, and gave it a twist. It opened with a hiss, like pressure releasing. You stepped inside, the door closing on its own behind you.

The room around you was mesmirizing, unlike anything you’d seen on Jabberwock Island before. Scattered around were velvety plush love seats and cushions in crimson reds and deep pinks. The carpet was luxurious and pink lava lamps stood nearly five feet tall in the corners of the room. Soft lighting set a dreamy mood. The floor underneath the carpet was checkered tile like a chessboard. Above you dangled a large, expensive-looking crystal chandelier with heart-shaped accents. In the middle of the room was a round, almost comically large bed with a thick red duvet and a mountain of pillows. Your eyes bounced around the room, taking it all in with wonder, until they settled on the area just beside the bed.

“No way…” You gasp lightly, hands coming up to cover your mouth.

“Hello there, (Y/N),” Nagito smiled back at you: genuine, warm, welcoming. His eyes creased into little lines with the expression. Dressed in his usual attire, he raised a hand to wave gently.

It was like every step of this journey, every new discovery proved over and over to you that this was in fact, a dream. You had to be asleep for Nagito to be here. Nagito… Out of all of your classmates, fate chose your crush to place upon you. It felt like an ambush, like a trap.

Your feelings for Nagito had blossomed almost immediately upon meeting him. There was physical attraction at first sight. He was tall, thin, with a pronounced Adam’s Apple and veiny arms. His pale skin was vampiric almost, translucent in the bright sun, especially when he went swimming with little on but his trunks. His hair was wispy like cotton candy, soft and full. You imagined running your hands through it often. You were lured in by his kind and helpful personality. After the first class trial, when you all learned of his true disposition, you fought to keep your feelings under wraps. He was dangerous, volatile, unstable, and a whole lot of other negative adjectives, so you held it all in.

Still, you couldn’t deny your attraction to the mystery that came along with him. He was obviously extremely intelligent, often moving behind the scenes and one step ahead of everyone else. His mind and the way it worked, just the way he talked was alluring to you. It often felt like he was flirting with you when you were around him. You just assumed he was just trying to butter you up to use you, trying to get closer to further his goals of “hope.”

You tried to be around him as little as possible, though… or that’s what you wanted your peers to perceive. You tried to only hang out with him when you had an excuse: looking for clues and evidence, during investigations, interrogating him, trying to get closer to him under the guise of wanting to control his crazy so he wouldn’t hurt your friends. In reality, you enjoyed every moment spent with him. He could be scary at times though for sure, getting all wild and frantic when speaking of the future and his plans for hope, or even knowing he was plotting when he was quiet. Which is why it was so odd that he was almost… shy at the moment?

“(Y/N)...?” He cleared his throat, gaining your attention once again. Shaken out of your trance, you made eye contact with him, feeling instantly a bit shy yourself.

“Yes, Nagito?” You speak softly, never moving an inch. This felt surreal.

“I knew it would be you…” He smiled just barely and took a step forward, a gleam in his eye.

“Nagito… do you know what’s going on here?” You inquired, and he nodded enthusiastically. Always a step ahead.

“When I learned of this place, I just knew it would be you that showed… after all, you’re the ultimate shining hope that eclipses all others! It could only be you!” His arms were outstretched as if to embrace you, or welcoming you to embrace him, but yet he didn’t step any closer.

Ah, yes, his ideal… you think to yourself. He was obviously very mentally ill, you’d gathered, obsessed with the idea of hope even if there had to be an event of despair that preceded in order to propel forward such hope. Sometimes it was vague, to you at least, what hope meant to him. He seemed to know very well what he meant, though nobody else did. Not one hundred percent of the time, anyway.

“So, where should I begin? Tell me how best to serve you! Let me please you!” He took a large stride forward, grasping your hand in his own and bringing it to his lips in a gentlemanly gesture. Like some victorian nobleman greeting a lady, he kissed the back of your knuckles as if he revered and respected you highly. Taken aback by the sudden action, you jerked your hand away.

You felt hesitant… Weren’t you supposed to be his ideal? Why is he all up on you, then, asking to serve and please you?

“Please, allow me to be your stepping stone. Use me, let me be your tool for hope! I know I’m less than nothing, but if I can help you even a microscopic amount, I can die happy!” He fell to his knees, wrapping around your legs like a child latching onto their mother. He looked quite pathetic, actually. He ran a cold, pale hand up and under the pant leg of your pajamas and you shivered. Your heart rate began to pick up at the skin to skin contact. “Whip me if it pleases you, if it feels better and relieves your stress. Hit me! Take out your build-up from the day on me, so you can continue to work hard for the cause of hope!”

This is wrong… You shook him off gently, backing away until your back hit the door. He stood, a displeased look across his face.

“Nagito…”

“Am I fucking it up? I can do better, please. I’ll do anything for you!” He began to shuck off his outer layer of clothing, his green coat. You found your eyes instantly glued to the veiny expanse of his ghostly white arms, the callous of his knuckles, the way his Adam’s Apple bobbed when he swallowed nervously and-

No… this is wrong! You repeatedly to yourself mentally. Reluctance, sweat running down the back of your neck, this awkward knot in your stomach. You felt confused. This had to be wrong. He probably didn’t really feel this way. Not about you, anyway. Monokuma influenced this for sure… obviously. How could he see you as an ideal? There was no way… you had to get out of here… back to your room and…

But then again… this was a dream. Your mind wandered. This was some kind of freakish lucid dream that you could be aware of and be in control of. Who could fault you for enjoying a dream? When would you ever get an opportunity like this - with your crush of all people - ever again? Maybe you should just… let go… enjoy the night.

Nagito, now devoid of his coat, crossed his arms at his pelvis, taking up the bottom hem of his white t-shirt and began to lift it with the intent to remove it altogether, exposing his belly button and the veins that ran down his lower abdomen. He looked to you for approval. He couldn’t help but notice that even with his eagerness to please, you had a twisted expression on your face. It was uncertain, puzzled, maybe upset with his efforts? You certainly weren’t paying attention to him, that was for sure. He let go of the shirt, and it fell back into place.

“Am I still disappointing you?” His words brought you back to the present, and you looked him up and down once again, stepping a bit forward and back fully into the suffocating ambience of the suite. You were tempted, so very tempted by the mere sight of him. Monokuma had said this was a building of lust and romance. “It is to be expected. I am a total filthy useless loser, and you are the epitome of goodness and cleanliness in this world.” He spoke matter-of-factly, now approaching you again, circling you like a hawk with it’s prey. “Hmmm… well maybe, you aren’t as clean as you’d like people to think?” Suddenly, more forceful than you’d ever seen him, you found yourself pushed back, up against the wall, and he held you there, pinned by his own body weight.

“N-Nagito!” You sputtered, more shocked by the position he now had you in than than anything else so far on this very strange night. But wasn’t he all submissive just a second ago? This is what you meant by volatile, unstable…

“Ah well, that’s fine with me, as long as you’re the ray of hope the world needs you to be outside of the bedroom…” His thin fingers trailed up your forearms until they met your hands. Interlocking your fingers with his own, he forced them up and beside your head, locking you into place against the red wall. You swallowed, suddenly feeling very small. His eyes seemed dreamy, lazily glazed over and sultry. A crooked smirk formed upon seeing your flustered reaction. “I have no issue changing strategies…” He leaned forward, whispering suggestively into the shell of your ear. He could feel you tremble at that, content to let him take over. “Your reactions are quite telling.” His grip slipped down from your fingers to your wrists. There was a shit-eating grin, a condescending tone behind his seemingly effortless bravado.

What you were starting to realize was that Nagito could be whoever he needed to be at any given moment in order to meet his goals. In an instant, he could change and adapt. His personality shifted just like that. You questioned how the groveling servant-like act from before could flip into this dominant, aggressively contrasting performance, but that was just it. Nagito’s fantasy was to be the stepping stone that would support and propel the greatest hope the world had ever seen to glory, to have that beacon of hope see him as useful and genuinely feel like he means the world to them. He did this by enabling them to do their best, whatever the cost, therefore, their fantasy was his fantasy. Being what they needed and wanted, that was all he wanted. Their pleasure was his pleasure, like an endlessly looping cycle. You didn’t seem to respond well to the sniveling slave character, so now, he would show you that you could be made to submit to him, that he could be your ideal and force you to relinquish control. If that’s what you wanted, he would fill that role.

His grip on your wrists tightened, a bit painfully. You sucked in air through your teeth at the pressure. He was so lanky and thin, you’d never guess he was this strong. You probably couldn’t shake him off unless you used your full strength and and the boost of an adrenaline rush. Your eyelids fluttered closed, finally accepting the blissful feeling this dream could provide.

“I can tell you like this… You’re trying to hold back all reactions and sounds, but you should just let go… I know already… I know~” He teased, leaning in until his forehead touched yours. The closeness, the invasion of your personal space excited him. He truly didn’t have many opportunities for physical touch in his life. Knowing it was with his ideal match, this experience, all of it set his heart ablaze in his chest. “Who would’ve thought? Heh, wait until the others hear you’re not so innocent…” You knew Nagito as one who never missed a beat, that’s why he was so useful in class trials and during investiagations. So of course he noticed when your bottom lip quivered and the tiniest, quietest moan escaped the depths of your throat. He exhaled amusedly, a puff of satisfaction through his nostrils. A checkmate of sorts. “Oh? You seem to like even the threat of me telling…” He was smug, so very smug.

“N-No, that’s not true…” You breathed out an overstimulated, constrained response.

“You want me to be meaner to you?” It was posed as a question, but he wasn’t asking for permission. Without waiting for a response, he firmly pressed his mouth to yours, lips enveloping your own. Your head tilted to meet his, melding perfectly into each other. Your hands itched, begging to be allowed move, to run your fingers through his hair, but he wouldn’t release his grip on your wrists. He loved to feel you struggle against him. Pulling back from the kiss, he allowed you a moment of air. “Okay, okay… I’ll extend this one little kindness…” he whispered, throaty and intoxicating. He let go of your left wrist, using that hand instead to move to the front of your pajama shirt. He popped upon the first button with a single graceful movement. With your newly freed hand, you savored your first little taste of the cloud-like texture at your fingers. You were in heaven. His hair was just as fluffy and soft as you’d always imagined.

As his fingers descended down and down, removing the obstacles of every button in his way, you looked over his shoulder at the expansive, lavish bed behind him. It seemed a very long night was ahead of you.

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crezz-star · 3 months

Text

✨Eleina / C'elen details 🌠

used my strawberridaddy style for this. its my hazbin inspired style since it's quick to do

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DMC Eleina - C'elen Meza info and lore here:

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Eleina ( my bg3 oc tav ) rambles [copy pasted from twt]

(⚠️ Dark themes)

Backstory: Her father is a swindler and always absent. He was also that noble who is hated by everyone but still have the balls to show up at gatherings and parties to show off his wealth and 'beautiful' family. Her father is also a gambling addict which was why their money ran out fast. And before her mother knew what was happening, it was too late. They were being hunted down by the people her father scammed and stole from, even after they went into hiding. Her father kept gambling what little money her mother saved, they kept being hunted still and eventually her father got caught and killed. His head on a pike and was displayed for the public to see in the place her father often frequents after they went to hiding. That being baldur's gate. Her mother knew this and instead of feeling relieved that her shit husband was finally gone, ( which he also became abusive after he lost all his wealth ) she went into depression. Not knowing what to do now since she developed Stockholm syndrome and still loves her husband.

Eleina's mother would hang herself in the tiny cabin home they're hiding in one night where eleina would see her dead body when morning came.

Still small, being 7 years old, eleina couldn't even take her body down and watched her mother's dead body for while. Crying and not knowing what to do. No one to ask help from since she doesn't even know where to go, being far from any town or road.

The people hunting down her family managed to find the cabin where they were hiding and saw eleina's mother dead and Eleina malnourished and laying on the bed. Also looking quite… Dead (but still alive). Taking pity for her, they left her alone , sure that she's not far off from death herself.

Eleina saw and heard their conversation. Closing her eyes. Hoping that indeed. She would pass.

After a few hours. Eleina wakes up from a noise outside. She was weak but the sad meowing ses to call for her.

She pushes herself to stand and look at where the noise was coming from. She saw the men who was hunting them, all dead Claw marks and bite marks. And in the .middle of human dead bodies , a large dead tiger who had a little cub crying on its leg.

She felt for the little animal and shed tears of her own. The cub was like her. So she held out a hand, weakly approaching the small animal, who somehow felt Eleina's sadness and that she wasn't a threat. So the cub goes to her. Eleina found a reason to keep going. She doesn't want the little cub to feel the loneliness she feels. So she decided to pull herself together and care for the small animal. Whom she names Lakas. ( Idea from word Lakas in Filipino Which means strength )

Eleina slowly tries to regain her strength. All she could really eat at the moment were fruits and fishes from the river nearby. Lakas helping her. The bodies around their cabin, inuding the tiger body, eleina and Lakas did their best to pull and bury. Just a bit away from the cabin

Her mother's body would also be put down with Eleina stacking up some cabinets and suitcases as well as some crate in the basement.

It was messier for her mother since her mother's body had started to rot already but she did her best and gave her mother a proper burial .

Few months passed and Eleina is fully recovered. No longer feeling comfortable in that cabin, eleina, along with Lakas decided to leave. Burning it down and setting off to find a new place to settle in.

Since she was still young. Eleina was more careful and avoided crowds for Lakas' safety as well. They would travel alone for a year, Lakas conversed with fellow animals to avoid trouble with other stronger animals. Avoiding places where said strong animals might attack them. Eleina slowly develops her talk to animals skill during this time. After a while, they would meet a crow. A very odd crow with four wings that has blue eyes. Who can … Speak human language and decided to join Eleina and Lakas. Said crow introduced himself as Astero and said that there's something about eleina that makes Astero feel That he needs to be with her.

Eleina didn't feel any evil intent towards the crow and let's him join her. To Lakas' annoyance.

The three would continue their journey for another year, still avoiding town and crowds until they finally found a new home to settle in. An abandoned home atop a hill. Right behind the home is a cliff but with a beautiful view of nature and clear to see the sky completely.

Whoever owned the house abandoned many things , still in good condition. They also had a little garden and a bit further down the hill, a shed Eleina take residence there starting that day and discovers that under said house was a mini selune shrine as well as a study room about selune worship. Eleina wasn't much on religion but felt draw to selune and did love the night sky and stargazing that she was fascinated. And would eventually pray to selune from time to time. Not a full devout worshipper but she believed in selune. More than any god she read from books in the house.

Eleina continues to live in seclusion in said house, Happily and peacefully with Lakas and Astero, even helping passing by adventurers or lost people in that part of wilderness, giving them shelter and helping th find their way back to the main roads. Any bandits who tries to attack Eleina's home, a fully grown Lakas would take

Down. Eleina let's Lakas kill so long as it's people who mean harm.

Astero, who knows strange magic , would also set up traps in a certain radius to protect their home against people with evil intent. Making their home safe.

All was peaceful until eleina was finally 22. A lost adventurer' would stumble upon her home, said adventurer was an absolutist who was about to transform. Eleina did not know what sickness it was so she sets out with Astero. She tells Lakas to look after their home and that she will not take long.

Eleina and Astero Travels to the main road and calls for help. Sadly it was night time and not much people was around. Even more unfortunate was those who did hear her asking for help was absolutists looking for new victim experiments. And that's when she was abducted.

Astero who tried to fight back with magic was quickly swat away by wizard and sorcerer absolutists. Overpowered by numbers.

And that's eleina's story start for bg3

ADDITIONAL ELEINA INFO

Eleina's choose of weapons are maces and axe. Where she becomes a barbarian without her notice.

prefers to use healing magic if given the chance but doesn't know any healing spells.

eleina was raised into becoming a proper lady until she was 6. When she turned 7 that's when shit hit the fan.

eleina gets along well with halsin, jaheira and the druids in emerald grove because of being one with nature and her being friendly with animals

eleina is kindhearted but if she sees even the hint of bad intentions towards someone, killing intent to be exact, she feels no remorse in killing. Finding death as nothing new because of the amount she had to bury on her own when she was younger. Thinking death is well deserved for any people with evil intention. And especially if said people is like her shit father.

Eleina is patient and highly attached to Lakas. Which was why returning to Lakas safe and alive is what motivates her in the story. She cries knowing that Lakas must feel so lonely.

she worries about Lakas terribly and can anger her when someone says that Lakas was probably long dead.

she treats Lakas as a family. Like a sister even.

Eleina is very obviously a cat person and in eleina's version of the story, any orange cat eleina sees, she will keep safe and successfully invite to her camp.

because of eleina's lack of socializing. She bluntly speaks her mind no matter how weird the question is. Unless the answer is something romance or sexual related which only then would she feels flustered, apologize and run away.

Eleina cooks very well. And takes turns with Gale in cooking.

#dmc #ffxiv #bg3 #hazbin hotel #original character #crezztellations

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writingcold · 10 months

Text

Fireside

Thank you goes out to @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine for creating this moodboard and the tip of the hat for using it as inspiration. This was going to be a smutty, smutty mess at first, but, alas - it's a strange, fluffy concoction. There's nothing to really warn about other than a few sexual references, a tiny amount of alcohol, but mostly just stupid shit and of course, bad language and grammar. Sorry for the typos - this is barely edited.

Pairing: Jake x fem reader insert

Word Count: approx 5700

Work had been an absolute nightmare. Your tyrant boss had been trying to revoke the approval of your vacation time, but the HR angels sheltered you. They were fast to point out that your vacation had already been ‘postponed’ three times in the past fourteen months. Not to mention, you had only used a few actual sick days during that time. The fact that the fucker paid you well was no excuse to expect you not to be a human being and actually want time off.

You had your bag packed and waiting by the door of your apartment. All you had to do was shed your work clothes, shove some food in your face, send a text to Jake that you were on your way, and hit the road. You had a three hour drive ahead of you. Cell service was spotty in the area of the cabin, so you could only hope that he remembered to turn the booster on inside - but even then, service was iffy at best. You put on your most favoritest playlist that will keep you awake for the drive. Windows down, wind in your hair, and coffee at your side, you depart.

Josh’s “traffic was a bitch” voice is pumping through your head only twenty minutes into the ride. It seems everyone had decided to leave town all at the same time, and the scheduled summer road construction has barfed all over your route. You are barely idling forward for miles. You glance at your phone when you are once again at a standstill. Jake texted to be careful. You scold yourself. You knew you should have let him come into the city and then drive you both out the next day. You could have had drinks at that new bar down the street and supper at the diner. You could have caught up nicely in the quiet of your apartment. However, it did not make sense to have him drive hours to your place when the cabin was essentially the halfway point between your home and his landing spot in Nashville.

You are more than an hour behind when you finally make the turn that would take you on the winding county roads that snaked up through the hills and forest. And it was dark. So fucking dark. The kind of dark when you may have your brights on, but you are still straining to see. You fight off the urge to lay into the gas pedal, despite your tardiness; despite your urgency to get to your destination. It has been weeks since you’ve seen your mate. He has been on the road with a tour while you toiled away at your 9-5 job. The idea of quitting the job tickles and prickles at the back of your thoughts, but in truth, you are too independent to throw your work to the wind and give up many of the comforts that the paycheck has afforded you.

A flash of eyes at the side and you hit the brakes just as a deer steps onto the shoulder. The doe stares at your headlights as your heart pounds, hoping upon hope that you can bring your car to a stop before striking it. Without a care, she strolls across, stopping every few steps like she knows you are trying to get somewhere where a very handsome man is waiting for you. A second doe strolls out of the ditch, following her friend.

Out of frustration, a whole conversation breaks out in your mind as the damnable beasts linger in the road, staring you down like you had nothing better to do…

Deer 1: “Oh look, Heidi - looks like she’s on a mission.”

Deer 2: “Hmmmmmm… Booty call for sure.”

Deer 1: “What’s the rush, sweetheart? Oooo - look Heidi! The paint is sooo shiny when her lights hit it. Makes me think those mushrooms were a bit wonky… But it looks so pretty! So many colors…”

Deer 2: “Wow. Never thought reflective paint could be so shimmery...”

Deer 1: “I bet her guy’s - gender neutral of course - ass is that sparkly - but in that weird human pasty kind of way.”

**You honk the horn in an effort to startle them away. Frustration bubbles in your core, threatening to boil over the longer these animals are in the road. The bigger of the two does raises her head up and looks directly at you and you can swear, the bitch is throwing sass your direction.**

Deer 1: “Bitch, please.”

Deer 2: “You know, them ferns over there looking pretty good, Frannie.”

Deer 1: “Honk that metal coffin at me… Lord. Maybe you shouldn’t be in such a rush to get railed.”

**You growl. You literally growl as the two does finally get over to the other side of the road. You slowly ease off the break and move to press the accelerator only to have one jump back into the road. You slam the break with a frustrated howl.**

Deer 2: “Ha! Gotcha!”

Deer 1: “You so funny, Heidi. Did you see those eyes pop! I thought they were gonna come out of her damn head. Come on. Whoever she’s gettin’ too probably doesn’t look much better than an ass end of a moose.”

You are pretty sure that they are laughing at you as they trail away. Aside from a very imaginary, snarky conversation between two deer, you regroup and ease back into a good pace. You are totally out of coffee and water and your bladder is next to complain. You are still ninety minutes from the cabin. You take a side step, heading for a little country store in hopes that it did not close early. A few miles to the east and the store comes into sight. Most would chalk it up as too scary to stop. It may be a shack on the outside, with dim lighting across the four space parking lot, complete with a buzzing, half functioning sign that left one to wonder if anyone who went into the establishment came back out with all of their appendages; however, this was a place you knew well. You bounce out of the car and wave at the couple behind the counter as you head straight for the restroom.

Relieved, you loop around to the coffee stand and fix yourself another cup of your favorite hot beverage. You grab a water bottle before heading up to the register. You also spot some of Jake’s favorite little treats, fresh made and smiling at you. Exchanging pleasantries with the owners, you smile as you leave with a little wave. You check your phone before you start the engine. Two hours late. A slow, shredded ‘fuck’ leaves your mouth through your teeth, past your lips and into the world. There are three texts from Jake - all just checking in - all three cool tempered and ranging from four to twelve words each. You text him that you are at Spencer's store and getting back on the road. You turn on a heavier playlist in hopes of keeping your wits about you. The next stretch was a meandering thread through curves with the woods nearly right up against both sides of the road and sheer drop off bluffs that would take you higher into the hills. You knew it well enough, but it always was a bit off putting to know no one - nobody existed along the stretch of dense state forest.

The closer to the cabin you get, the more relaxed you are. You are belting out one of your favorite songs into the void. Jake is only forty minutes away. Yup. 40. You can do this. The little spark in your core sits up as you allow yourself to picture him waiting with beer in hand, a smirk on those lush lips that would welcome you home. You know the first few days would be an absolute frenzy of sex and closeness and more sex and more togetherness. Yeah… it was the shit you currently lived for…

“Son of a bitch!” you scream out as you slam on the breaks.

A porcupine is fucking meandering down the middle of the road in no hurry at all. You can picture it even singing as it moves along.

Porcupine: Dooopa dooooda doooopa doooopie dooooooooOOOOoooOOoooo You curse - out loud and loudly as the creature swerves left to right and back again completely oblivious to your existence. You dare not roll the car forward and squish the poor beast. What kind of a person are you for even thinking that? Fuck. Come on. This is worse than the fucker with the Stop/Slow sign that is bored standing there directing traffic and decides to cause a little fuckery to brighten their day by being super fast with their power hungry sign management skills.

Porcupine: Dooopa dooooda doooopa doooopie dooooooooOOOOoooOOoooo

OK - this is getting ridiculous. You are less than 40 minutes away from the sexiest man on the entire planet. He is waiting for you. Are you really going to let this stupid creature get in your way?

Porcupine: Dooopa dooooda doooopa doooopie dooooooooOOOOoooOOoooo

Motherfucker. Did that thing really just turn and cackle at you? Maybe. You narrow your eyes as it begins to skitter off in what may be the ditch… Nope. Back to the center of the road.

Porcupine: Dooopa dooooda doooopa doooopie dooooooooOOOOoooOOoooo

You are practically pounding the steering wheel with anxious fingertips. Out of nowhere, a huge bird swoops down and nearly hits your windshield. You scream and flinch like the damn thing is going to rip you out of the car and carry you away. The porcupine has suddenly made a mad dash to safety; his stupid little song silenced. Collecting yourself, you make a mental note that you are going to have the biggest, stiffest drink known to man the moment you arrive at the cabin. No ifs. No ands. No fucking buts about it. Whatever was in the damn air that was making this drive abnormally weird certainly did not have the best intentions towards you.

Taking a sip of your once scalding hot beverage, you chance it and down it as it’s that magic temp where it only is perfect for a time window that only god and physics people can figure out but can’t create to stay that way for longer than twenty seconds. You tuck your mug back into its spot and readjust in your seat just as a particularly lovely ditty comes on - all heavy guitars and banging lyrics. You find yourself screeching out at the top of your lungs as you relax, foot pressed a little harder on the gas than you knew you should, but damn - you were less than thirty minutes away from your sex god demon boyfriend and you could give a shit if something…

You pull your foot back as a shadow creeps at the edge of the road several car lengths ahead. It is startling. You can’t figure out what the hell it was - just big and dark, matching the midnight of the sky. There it was again - movement. All shadowy and spooky - just on the fringe ahead… Your eyes narrow. Your whole focus is on that shadow as you crawl your car forward. You hope like hell it’s not like some crazy stupid forest monster that was going to disappear your ass. At the same time you’re too scared to actually fully stop the vehicle in the case that it is some forest cryptid that is going to eat your face off and drag you into the nether never to be seen again. You see the shadow again, this time it’s like it’s lurking. You pull the wheel to maneuver the car further into the on-coming lane and decide to floor it. It’s probably just a bear, but to be safe, you just gun that damn engine and take off like a shot. Your heart is pounding and your eyes refuse to focus on anything but the road ahead of you.

Finally… FINALLY you arrive at the turn for the drive back to the cabin. The driveway is just over three quarters of a mile, leading you back into the woods, winding up a hill that you dare not navigate during the winter. The cabin is all lit up on the inside, sending a warm, orange glow across the soft roll of the hill and splashing through the tree trunks and ferns that made up the front yard. You pull in next to Jake’s truck, cutting the engine off and sitting for a long moment. Never had you ever had such a ride like the one you just experienced. Traffic. Possessed animals. Or was it more like you are just being too desperate to get to this hill and your man that every little bump turned into fucking mountains that felt like you had to scale them in truly strange, horrific fashion.

Your eyes skate over the kitchen window, hoping that perhaps he was standing waiting, watching for you. Instead, no shadow passes the paned glass. You grab a garbage bag and shove your remnants of the drive into it before sliding out and righting yourself under the velvet night. The void of fellow humans fills you. It’s all crickets and frogs and breeze through the poplars and birch and oak and pines that welcomes you home. Yanking your bag from the backseat and tossing your garbage in the bin, you move towards the door. Inside is small, but cozy. The kitchen bleeds into the dining and living rooms with windows everywhere. The soft textures meet the rough in just the right balance that makes you sigh, knowing that you are safe and warm.

You call out for him, but there’s no answer. You drop your bag in the loft bedroom, a grin passing your mouth at the sight of his own stuff haphazardly tossed around and set out for the extended week to come. You duck back downstairs, catching sight of a flicker in the backyard. Taking a moment, you look out to see the silken amber glow and soft shadowing of a campfire dancing against the tree trunks. You can just make out Jake’s form, sitting in one of the adirondack chairs, his guitar across his lap, leg stretched out and resting against the large stones of the fire pit. A wave of comfort washes over you as you descend down into the basement to the walkout that would lead you directly to him.

Softly closing the screen door behind you, you are wrapped in the soft strumming of his playing and the pops and crackles of the fire. He glances over his shoulder, his eyes searching for you. The corner of his mouth tugs as you approach. He sets the guitar to the side before standing to greet you. Without warning, you latch onto him, pressing your body flush to his, your mouth landing against his in a sinful, needy kiss. He is quick to wrap his arms around you, hands brushing against your waist before folding up against your back. A deep rumble bubbles from his chest as he allows you to lean into him. One of your hands lands against the stubble on his cheek while the other pushes into his hair. You find yourself intoxicated instantly from his touch; his taste; his presence.

“Damn, I missed you,” he whispers as he draws in a breath. “I was starting to worry.”

“Sure,” you quip as your eyes continue to trace across his face, looking for anything that may have changed in the weeks of separation. “You sure look like it.”

He dips his chin shyly. “Aw, I was just about to play some pretty angsty shit to see if that would help.”

The sound of his laughter fills you as he swings your body around against his. His hands dig into your hips and your ass and your tummy as his touch seems to be everywhere suddenly. You are not much better. Your hands are already running up the front of his chopped up t-shirt, searching for skin and warmth and just… Jake.

“Awfully needy,” he sighs as you practically yank and shred the fabric from his body in the not usual route of just sliding it off.

You growl, and you are not embarrassed by it. After your ride, you just needed all of him and all of him in a rough, mean, sloppy way that you would never fully articulate, but he always seemed to understand what exactly you needed anyway. His wicked chuckle as he discards the shirt away from the fire - don’t ask. It would not have been the first time he lost a garment to the flames through your need.

You straighten up your back, plaster your most serious face you can muster and capture his full, shirtless attention. “I need you to rail the shit out of me and this shitty assed drive up here. I need you to do that now.”

He rolls his lips in between his teeth. His eyes are a liquid emotion that you barely register before it seems like your clothes are smoldering in their near correct places. He clears his throat as if the depth of the expectation has been launched at his brain with full intent of harm or… is there an or, really?

You suck in a breath across your teeth. “I appreciate your romantic gesture here. I do. But…”

He gulps a breath before you can retreat from your need. “Okay. Just give me a minute. I’ll take care of this out here. I’ll meet you inside.”

“‘K…” You nod as he turns you back towards the cabin with a little swat on your butt. “I’m sorry I-”

“Nope. You’ve made it loud and clear what you need,” he says as he drags the hose closer, beginning to spray the lovely fire that he had going. “Just head on up to bed and I’ll be there in a minute.”

For a moment, you are frozen. Did you really demand what you think you just did… from Jake? You sip in a breath as his dark eyes climb up your body as he’s bent down, scattering the embers of the campfire. Oh. Committed now and all…

You turn and move back towards the cabin. Through the basement door and up the creaky stairs into the main space. You decide a sip of courage would do you some good before he gets inside. You pull the tequila from the cupboard and shakily pour yourself a shot into a lowball before dousing it with some ginger beer from the fridge. You barely can carry the glass up the stairs into the bedroom. Your brain is only being edged in speed by your heart. Both are racing out of control. You peek out the window, seeing his shadowed outline, giving the now blackened pit a final stir to ensure the flame is completely out. You watch like a stalker as he bends to retrieve his guitar, beer, and finally his smokes before making his way towards the cabin. A swallowed ‘fuck’ buries itself in your throat as you turn away. The drink dribbles down your chin as you rush to the only bathroom.

Your eyes are completely blasted by the not as bright as you think lights. You take another drink of your cocktail before dropping it down to the counter. You hear him walking through the living room and back to the kitchen. The sharp snaps of lightswitches being turned off sends jolts up your spine. You drag your fingers through your hair in some kind of attempt to straighten yourself up. You slide out of your pants and road weary shirt before you start running water to get warm in the sink. The least you can do is freshen up and get the travel tar off your skin before whatever the hell he’s going to do to you gets done.

Cleaned up, washed up, and nearly looking human, you reach for one of his t-shirts just as you hear his footfalls start up the stairs towards you. You take the last sip of your tequila and ginger as he pauses to switch off the stairway lights, effectively announcing his arrival. A shaky breath escapes your lips as you set your glass down on the dresser before turning towards him. He stands at the head of the stairs, his hands calm at his sides. His dark eyes are impossibly full of silk and velvet and lust and longing that you would think that it would spill out across the crest of his cheekbones and land on his pillowed mouth. Or maybe, that is just you projecting everything that is suddenly erupting from every pore of your skin.

“Hey, handsome,” he says, his voice full of rasp as the corner of his mouth curls in a smile.

“Hey, pretty,” you whisper, unable to rip your eyes from the curve of his belly as it streams down the distinct v that drifts beneath his crumpled linen pants.

“I’m surprised you’re still wearing clothes,” he remarks, remaining rooted to his spot, his body giving no clues of what would happen next.

You grin as you swirl a fingertip at the hem of the t-shirt just enough to flirt the edge to reveal the barely there panties that you are sporting. His head tilts ever so slightly as a soft hum passes his lips. You slowly turn your back to him, your fingers skating over the swell of your ass as your ghost the fabric up your sides in a surprisingly graceful maneuver as you dip your chin to look at him over your shoulder. He raises an eyebrow and licks at his lip, just as a lock of your hair drifts across your brow in what you hope is an oh so sexy moment.

“Impressed?” you coo as you drag the fabric up until you can bring it over your head.

He lets out an amused laugh. “Always,” he sighs, still not moving. “Get on the bed. Lay down on your belly.”

You comply because let’s face it - you’ve presented your need, why fight it? You feel the tip of his callused finger trace across your ankle before skating up one calf and give a little tickle behind your knee. Just as you’re folding your arms under your pillow to get more comfortable, he grabs you by the ankles and yanks you down. You let out a surprised yelp, watching as he knocks off the pillows before he takes one wrist in between his fingers.

You watch as he stretches your arms up towards the headboard, hooking your fingers to the edge of the bed. “Both hands stay right here. Doesn’t matter if you are on your belly or on your back. Do you understand?”

You feel your skin grow hot at the sound of authority in his tone. You nod as you whisper out an affirmation. He leans into you, planting a little kiss to your forehead with a smile. One hand lands in the middle of your bare back and glides down the expanse of skin, stopping only for a moment before hooking into the fabric of your undies and pulling them down and off in a painfully slow fashion that allowed each of his fingers brush against the insides of your legs on their journey down. Your breath quickens as you feel him move away from you, only to return his path on the other side of the bed, his hands passing over you like silk - teasing, touching, hovering, pressing. Everywhere in their wake, his touch is leaving gooseflesh and a scorch of desire for more.

He disappears for a moment, leaving a vacuum of silence that weighs on you heavily. The coil of anticipation begins to strangle you as the thunk of his boots hitting the floor strikes your ears, followed by the clank of his belt knocking on the top of the dresser. You can picture him as he slowly undresses - each piece landing in a designated spot for ease of use in the morning. A little hum slides through his lips as he grows nearer to you, his rings striking the nightstand and you turn your head to look at how he grins to himself and continues on like he didn’t have a naked you stretched across the bed like a trophy. You listen as he steps into the bathroom. That spring of anticipation is turning into outright frustration. You sink your teeth into the tender flesh of your arm in hopes of summoning an ounce of patience.

“Look at you,” he says, his voice rough with rasp. “It’s like your whole body is vibrating. Do you need this that badly?”

“Fuck,” you breath out.

“What happened between home and here?” he asks gently, while still keeping himself away.

“I almost lost my damn vacation because of the boss,” you start with a low grumble, the venom spilling out on the mattress beneath you. “Can you believe that? He literally went to HR and tried to have me fired if I didn’t show up next week. Which I’m not. I’m not going in. HR insisted that I must take my time.”

“I know you love your job, but maybe-”

You shake your head. “I’m not ready to go - no matter how fucked up he is. There are still more aspects to the job that do not involve him that I love.”

“Okay,” he whispers as he moves in between your outstretched legs, but not yet moving onto the bed. He ghosts his fingertips across your calves, back and forth, the pressure gaining traction with each pass until he’s literally dragging his hands up and down your legs like a massage. “What else has you in these knots?”

Your eyes roll under his care before you harken back to the drive. “Ugh - it was like everyone had the same idea to leave the city all at the same moment, and the construction…”

“Yeah,” he agreed, pressing forward past your knees and into the tender skin of your thighs, mirroring his technique he had just given your calves. “It’s so bad this year.”

“It was down to one damn lane for miles and there’s always that one asshole that has to wait until last minute to merge and fuck everyone else who planned ahead,” you continue, unable to hide the squeak as he hits a few stress knots about mid-thigh.

He lets out a supportive hum as he moves up onto the mattress, straddling your thighs. He continues to massage his way up your body in a delicious, albeit slow, manner.

“It was like every animal was on the road coming up here,” you scoff, leaning into his hands as he drags them up your hips. “I swear there was an edict that was not going to allow me to actually get here.”

“And yet,” he whispers, digging the heels of his palms into the tops of your ass, “here you are, naked and lovely before me.”

“Almost three hours late…” you begin to grouse until his fingers dig into the tension in your low back. You feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as a whorish moan escapes.

“You like that, huh,” he whispers against your shoulder as he repeats the move to elicit the same reaction. “Oh my.”

You feel yourself melting into the mattress under his care. “I just… oh fuuuuck…”

He drags his fingertips hard down on either side of your spine before retreating back upwards to your shoulders. You feel his weight against the meat of your butt as he uses you to support himself. He leans down, placing featherlight kisses against the back of your neck. “I’ve missed you,” he whispers into your hair before he laps at the back of your ear.

You let go of a hot gasp as he removes his proximity away. The heels of both hands press along the ridge of your shoulders, dragging across to the mattress. A deep, throaty groan escapes you as he repeats the move followed by gentle finger presses that drag down along your flanks.

“I thought I would never get here,” you sigh as his fingers rain down along your ribs on both sides. “I did get you some of those little bars that you like from Spencer’s.”

He hummed as he moved off your hips to one side of the bed. “Thank you. Maybe we can have them later.”

He asks you to roll onto your back with a soft reminder of where to keep your hands. You obey, feeling like a fish on a spit, but you do it anyway. He lets out a quiet laugh as he swipes your hair that has fallen across your face. The low light of the room bounces off his features, making him look all the more handsome. Or maybe that was the edge of the tequila messing with you. Either way, you don’t care. He’s the prettiest thing your tired eyes have seen all day. He grins as he slides away from your side. He begins to rub at the arches of your feet. Firm pressure strikes knots you were not aware existed are stuck and you gasp and grimace as he continues to massage along without much expression. Those dark eyes sparkle at you as your body feels like it’s melting into the mattress under his care.

His fingers drift upwards and return down. You wanted to growl out that he was the world’s biggest tease, but your mouth stretched in a yawn instead. As he pulled his frame in between your legs once more, climbing up onto the mattress, your eyelids felt like they were fluttering in the wind as you struggled against them.

“Sleepy, love?” he asked, the bass of his voice rippling across your skin as he brushed his lip across the tender skin of your belly.

He rolls those sinful eyes up across and through your cleavage, pinning your gaze and making your breathing hitch. Once more, his palms graze across your hips, pressing upward to your flanks in a press that makes you ooze deeper into relaxation.

“If I didn’t know better, Jakey,” you whisper as you desperately try to stifle another yawn, “you’re trying to get me to relax so much that I go to sleep.”

“That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?” he chuckles as he begins to cover your body with his own.

His heat invades every inch of you as you melt under him. His lips pass over your mouth before landing against the bump of your chin. Slowly, he pushes his hands against your stretched out arms, lacing his fingers with your own. He pulled his shoulders back a bit so as to look down into your face.

“And you want me to rail the shit out of you,” he says as you struggle to keep your focus. His grin tugs a little more as you cover your yawn once more.

“Uh huh,” you sigh as he starts to plant tender kisses against your throat.

“You want me to do what exactly?” he whisper asks into your skin before he presses his tongue against the hollow of your collarbone.

The heat of his body mixed with the silk of his voice begins to tug in ways that are opposite of what you want. Your eyes are rolling back in your head, but not with pleasure. You gasp out, but it’s a yawn that fills the air around you. Your skin and bones feel heavy. But he continues to slowly kiss and lap at your skin. He’s in no hurry to fulfill your voiced wishes. You become mesmerized as his hands leave hot, relaxed trails up and down your sides and arms.

“Jake,” you manage, voice thick with sleep and comfort.

“Yeah, baby?” he asks, barely shifting his weight against you. “You ready?”

14 hours later…

You sit up in a sun filled room - alone. There is no luscious ache to your thighs. There’s no love marks on your tummy. There are no remnants of the previous night at all. You struggle to untangle yourself from the sheets to fly into the bathroom for relief and a clean up. The scent of coffee and cooking strikes your nose as you’re dragging a t-shirt and undies on. You can hear soft music in the air as you fight with the zipper on your bag to at least retrieve a pair of shorts.

You move down the stairs to find Jake, bare chested and a steaming cup in hand while he stirs eggs in the cast iron on the cooktop. His hair is in a sloppy tiny pony that is hanging on for dear life. His face is content as he turns towards you, surprise in his eyes.

“You’re alive,” he teases as you move towards him.

You wait for him to set his cup down and turn off the stove before moving up against him. Your hands slide across his shoulders and to his back as he pulls you in, kissing you sweetly.

“I can’t believe I fell asleep,” you said, blushing and hiding your face in his neck.

“And I was railing you so good, too, baby,” he jabs with a laugh.

You gasp and slap at his shoulder, even though you are still hiding your face from him. He takes your chin in hand and maneuvers you around to see you. There is nothing but warmth and good humor and love. He pecks your mouth and lets you go. You watch as he slides eggs on plates along with biscuits. He points to the coffee and walks past you.

“Better eat up, y/n,” he said with a firm tone. “You’re gonna need your strength.”

You pour yourself a cup, fixing it how you like it before joining him at the table. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Oh, so demanding last night and then you just…” He grins and lets out a little laugh that fills you with a flutter as he pretends to fall asleep dramatically. “It’s now my turn.”

*****

Hey - I made it through my second reader insert! Whoa! Hope you liked it. Let me know. I know it's weird. 🤪🤪 If you'd like to be tagged for my work, let me know or you can join here

@lvnterninthenight @doodle417 @luverleaver @jakesgrapejuice @fictional-duchess @whitesuitjake @milkgemini @positivegvfthings @songbirds-sweet @streamingcolors-gvf @gretavanbitches @samsurfgreenbass @joshkiszkas-admin @gardensgatedaisy @babyhoneygvfarchive @myownparadise96 @josh-iamyour-mama @starcatchercarol @loveisonaroll @jakesstarlight @myownparadise96 @reesetrippingthelight @kyrose11 @builtby-gvf @ignite-my-fire @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @wetkleenex-gvf @gold-mines-melting @starsasone @puzzle-gvf @mysticalstarcatcher @montenegroisr @takenbythemadness @brookes-so-done @way-to-go-lad @cal-a-bungaa @lightmylove-gvf @thewritingbeforesunrise @leftjudgeempathsuitcase @brokenbells11 @imborrowedshesblue @vanfleeter

#jake gvf #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka x reader #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fan fiction

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ijuststareatstuffhereok89 · 1 year

Text

Title board by the amazing @mochie85!

Lesson Four

You struggle with your feelings for Loki, while he struggles with his own personal demons. One of you will have to make a move...but who will it be?

**MASTERLIST HERE** Pairing: Soft!Dom!Loki x F!Reader Content Warnings: smut, extensive mentions of death, euthanasia, and death-related philosophy, some dark content (though the characters won't be), exile, moodiness, smut, kinks of various flavors (look for specific chapter warnings), trauma and mental illness, reader is a captive, reader has a body count

The following day, you tried to extend the olive branch by preparing breakfast before Loki woke up, but he wasn’t in bed (nor in the basement at all for that matter), so you decided on making supper instead. Dressing quickly in an oversized hoodie and jeans, you took a basket from the counter in the kitchen and went outside to explore a little bit for yourself while en route to get ingredients for a stew and bread.

Baking and cooking were two of the few things that gave you genuine delight in life, because they gave you the few times you could touch things with your bare hands and not risk the death of anyone. Consequently, you were quite good at it. You were looking forward to the time alone to think while working on cooking a meal from scratch. The idea even made you feel a little less terrible.

The grocery (tiny as it was) was in a moderately-sized cabin at the far end of the main row, close to the water so the stock of fish was always as fresh as it could be. The library was in the smallest structure on the row, in a three-room shed by the pub. It was about the size of the apartment you shared with Loki.

He’d said you should do some research outside of practical work, so perhaps one of the few books from Asgard to survive Ragnarok via the shoulder bags of refugees would be a good place to start.

I’ll need Loki to translate them, you realized. Or perhaps, if he were willing, I’ll have him read to me.

The idea was almost romantic to you, so you quickly snuffed out the idea. After last night, there was no way he would ever do anything special for you. Brunnhilde could do it, you decided. I’ll seek her out later.

Stepping inside, you found a young blonde woman sitting on a stool by the lone window in the first room, her hands furiously knitting a scarf that was already folding over itself on the floor.

“Hello,” you said quietly. She looked up, her green eyes far apart. “Do you have any books on death magic, or the ethics of--?”

“--here,” Loki said from behind you, having snuck up behind you and holding a thick book bound in black leather, a silver skull embossed on the cover.

You nearly jumped, startled at how silently he’d crept up beside you. Fortunately, you kept composure as you took the book. “I was going to leave it on your night stand. You were asleep when I awoke. It’s in English. Most Asgardians are fluent in it.”

“Oh, good morning, Loki,” you said bashfully as you began unconsciously running your finger up and down the spine of the book. “I was going to make supper.”

He nodded. “I was going to seek you out. I think after last night, the next few days should be spent in study. Sometimes a student of magic needs time in between practical lessons to recover.”

You nodded. “Which is why I came down here.”

Loki allowed the corner of his lip to rise into a demi-smile. “Indeed.”

A moment passed in silence as the two of you glared at one another, awaiting the other to make the next move. You were enchanted by his appearance, as always, but it was remarkable how he wore the simplest of outfits before you, and yet he looked his most tempting. His tunic was only half-tucked into his pants, as if he rolled out of bed after sleeping in them and just walked outside. His hair was loose, tousled, and messy. He had bags under his eyes, which meant he hadn’t slept well last night. For as disheveled as he appeared, you only wanted him to finish removing his clothes and walk naked into your arms.

You suddenly felt vulnerable in a similar way to how you had the first time you removed your gloves before Loki. He was clearly studying you, and you realized that you must have looked like a college freshman after pulling an all nighter, standing there in your oldest and coziest clothes.

Loki looked like he wanted to say something. You certainly did, but perhaps not in front of the skittish-looking librarian, who you could tell was growing impatient, judging by the increased clicking of her knitting needles.

“Will you be around for supper?” you asked. “I’m a good cook. I’m making lamb stew and soda bread. The baking gives me time to meditate.”

He nodded. “How proactive of you. I will be back at dusk, if that suits you.”

“It does, and I’d like to talk then,” you suggested. “If you are willing.”

He gave a mock bow. “If the Lady wills it.”

You sighed, seeing the annoyance through his tone. “Loki, you chose to save my life by making this attempt, and I feel as if you’ve given up on me already. Whatever I said to--”

“--I thought we were going to save this for the more private setting of our basement, later tonight?” he interjected, taking you out of your momentary lapse of restraint by nodding subtly at the librarian.

“Yes,” you agreed. “Until then.”

You wanted to duck out of that awkward moment as soon as possible, and you didn’t bother to stop when you heard a meek female voice call from behind you: “You need to sign that out--!”

Hoping to avoid bumping into Loki again, whatever his plans in town seemed to be, you made a beeline for the grocer, quickly buying everything you needed for stew and bread and shoving it all into your basket, which hadn’t been large enough to carry everything, it seemed. It took you a long time to haul that heavy load back up to the apartment.

Spending the afternoon kneading dough, roasting lamb, and mixing gravy, you found your thoughts drifting away from where you wanted them to be. You wanted to practice your formal apology to Loki, so that you could sound strong and impressive. Every time that you began to imagine the moment unfolding, he was looking at you with his bedroom eyes, his mouth hanging open as if he were starving for you. You’d nearly burned the bread while falling victim to one of these fantasies.

As promised, Loki returned precisely as the last beam of sun shrank over the western horizon. He’d filled a shoulder bag full of items he acquired in town. You were just mixing the stew one final time as he silently unpacked his bag on the table by the sofa: a few bottles of mead, a cloth bundle that contained a fruit cake, two more books from the library, and finally, a bottle of dessert wine, which he placed gently on the counter by you.

“I thought this might help our discussion proceed with more ease,” he suggested. You couldn’t agree more.

You ate in silence, both of you enjoying the fruits of your efforts. Loki had two helpings, and although he didn’t affirm so with words, you knew he was grateful that you had a skillful hand with a skillet.

“Y/N, I did want to apologize for lashing out the way I did last night,” Loki said softly, pulling out the cloth napkin he’d had tucked into his collar and placing it on his empty plate on the table. “It wasn’t entirely fair to you. I wandered about town all day to think, and I decided that you need to know everything about me, in order to fully understand.”

He took your plates to the kitchen, bringing back the wine and two glasses. He served both of you, and after you’d each drained a glass and begun to feel the effects of the second, he began.

“What do you know of my past?” he asked almost hesitantly, as if you knew too much, and he was bracing himself for the surprise of it.

You shrugged. “Only what MSNBC mentioned in their two-minute blurb about you after the whole Infinity Stones thing.”

“Which was?” Loki nursed his glass, while you chose to take a bigger, harder gulp before shrugging again.

“Younger brother of Thor, God of Tricks, Ragnarok, Thanos, you destroyed the Tesseract, etc.,” you answered. “And that the UN spared you from having to face a tribunal for doing that last thing specifically.”

Loki nodded. “I suppose that’s what the inevitable film version of my life will cover, but it goes much deeper than that. I was stolen from the land to which I was born to be heir, and the man I called Father kept this from me. USED me like a pawn. I sought out glory, I sought out purpose. I looked in the wrong place.”

“Thanos?”

“Yes,” he said. “And then, when Asgard needed me the most, I could only save half of them. Not even half, really. Half of those who managed to escape from my sister.”

“Half?”

“I couldn’t stop Thanos and his children from murdering half of the people on that ship. The bodies of those children were leaking blood onto my boots! The survivors looked at me as if I were the one who took a sword to their brothers’ throats!”

“You saved them, and saving some is better than none,” you replied softly. “You cannot blame yourself for the loss of the others.”

“Ever since I was born, no one has fully trusted me and embraced me as kin,” Loki sighed. “I suppose my adopted mother did, but she was always still under the thumb of the Allfather, and therefore, beholden to him.”

Shaking your head, you suggested, “Doesn’t Thor call you ‘brother’?”

Loki nodded, a smile forming at the mention of his brother’s name. “Well, yes, but he’s never trusted me. Without trust, how can there be love?”

And there it was, at least in your head. Trust. Loki had no one in his life who genuinely believed in him. He had no one who was willing to fully lay their life in his hands, and in turn, provide a safe haven for him to shelter from his own demons.

“Loki,” you whispered, setting down your glass, “you don’t have any true friends, do you?”

He shook his head. “That’s not quite how I’d word it, but I suppose it’s close enough to how I feel. You’ve seen how the Valkyrie acts around me, how the people here glare. I am a pariah.”

It was all coming together in your head. Loki was lonely. “You crave closeness.”

The silence said it all.

“It’s awful, then, because you can’t get close to me,” you insisted. “Not with my…talent.”

“Intimacy isn’t always about how you touch one’s skin,” Loki mused, gently shuffling closer to you. “It can be about how you touch their soul.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to his philosophy, so you just looked down at your bare hands, which were placed against your lap almost too-politely.

“You fear the world, Y/N. Well, the world fears me in turn.”

He got to his feet, beginning to upset himself at his own mental acrobatics. It was distressing to see the stress levels rise in him. Here before you was a God who was never trained to address the mind as anything but a machine. Now that he had the time and place to change that, he was reacting.

“Loki, why me?” you finally asked, staying on the sofa as Loki went to pour a third glass of wine.

He thought for a moment, searching for the best way to word his emotions. “Because I felt you would understand more than the rest of them, once I heard about you and how they were already assuming the worst of you. It was how my story began as well.”

You felt a pang of empathy throb in your stomach.

“Granted, in my case, I more than earned the skepticism I faced, whereas you are just an innocent,” he admitted, “but I thought I could earn a happier ending for you than I won for myself, just to see if such a fantasy is possible for those like us.”

You bit your lip. “Those like us?”

“Magic users, outsiders,” Loki replied. “The eyes of this planet have only just been opened up to the existence of the wider universe, and so far, the universe has been far from kind in turn. Even if you could make rainbows and flowers instead of instant death, you’d be met with fear by S.H.I.E.L.D. and the general populace.”

“I know,” you said.

“I thought maybe we could show Midgard together that redemption is possible for people who are different,” he concluded. “However, if you can’t even bring yourself to surrender your faith to me, then I’m afraid that this venture has already failed.”

Whether or not he remained a trickster, you could plainly see the godlike ambition in his voice, or, rather, the loss of it.

Sighing, he then decided to take his wine into his room, calling over his shoulder as he went to shut the door, “I’m sorry, I can’t say any more right now. I’m…restless. May we resume this conversation another time?.”

You wanted to cry. “Of course, though I do wish you’d stop abruptly leaving the room whenever we reach a bump in our conversation.”

There was only silence where you were hoping a reply would be.

“Goodnight, Loki.”

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.”

You went back to the sofa, grabbing the half-empty wine bottle and deciding to cut out the middleman, taking a swig directly from it instead.

You couldn’t sleep that night. You awoke at 2:30am, decided to try a hot shower, then were able to fall back asleep…at least until 4:45. Eventually, the day broke, and you couldn’t pretend to sleep any longer. You made a pot of coffee, and after indulging in a cup, tucked the tome about the Ethics of Death under your arm. The weather was expected to turn stormy within the next twelve hours, so you wanted to make the most of the last morning of this warm spell.

Loki’s door was open, and the view of his naked body spread-eagled on his bed, fast asleep, kept you lingering for a moment longer. A sheet covered his hips, but his morning wood was perfectly evident under them. He even twitched a moment in his slumber as your shadow briefly fell across his chest. You smirked as you permitted yourself one dirty thought. I wonder what…or who…he’s dreaming about?

You quickly snapped out of it. God, Y/N, don't be a creep! He doesn’t want you anymore anyways.

New Asgard still slept for the most part, only the fishermen awake and preparing their boats for the day ahead. The silence was a stark contrast to New York, or anywhere you’d ever been. I could almost live here, you thought. Loki’s drama aside, it’s peaceful.

The sun rolled higher into the sky as you spent hours pouring over the black leather book about death.

“Regardless of the manner in which it appears, death is the natural order of existence, and while some cultures fear the unknowns presented by the cessation of being, others embrace death as a threshold to another beginning, a celebration of completion, a graduation from life to afterlife. It is the most powerful force in the Universe.”

Celebrations and graduations! Hardly! If death was the natural order, then why did it have to be so dark? Why did it have to mark you as a villain, or at least someone to be afraid of?

Why did Loki spend his entire life running from it?

Your thoughts, regrettably, fell back to him. I’ve disappointed him. I didn’t listen. I didn’t trust.

Maybe I really am a bad person who deserves to be put down like a…

Your thought was only briefly interrupted by something that caught your eye, placed nearby, closer to the path. It was the corpse of a field mouse, frozen in time and place, curled up as if it died in its sleep.

I’ve already ruined everything, you thought sadly, looking at the dead mouse. I may as well be this little thing. Without thinking, you extended a finger to perhaps pick it up by the tail and put it somewhere more concealed. Someone walking by could eventually step on it.

Then, a highly peculiar thing happened.

You couldn’t explain what transpired. Maybe there was some sort of static reaction, or you’d brushed your hand against a thistle, but either way, the moment you touched the corpse, you felt a painful sting on your finger, burning with such sudden intensity that it shot up your arm, paralyzing you for just a moment. Then, for about fifteen seconds, you felt the overwhelming urge to pass out, as if the entire day’s energy was forced out of you all at once.

The mouse flipped itself onto its tiny paws, completely alive and unbothered, before quickly scampering away from you and into the brush.

What the hell?

The mouse had only been sleeping, and upon touching it, he’d obviously bitten you.

That was a strong reaction to a field mouse’s bite, you thought suspiciously, still brushing off the feeling of vulnerability you were in. I just hope he wasn’t diseased.

Although you couldn’t find any bite mark on your finger, you recovered after a few moments, but weren’t sure if you wanted to go back to the textbook. The clouds off to the west were building with the threat of snow, and even though the village was only a quarter of a mile down the path, it still wouldn’t do to be caught in a sudden wall of white.

On your way down, you realized that you knew what to do. You had to make the first move.

Upon reaching the basement, you found Loki, wearing nothing but loose jeans, on the sofa and helping himself to a bowl of leftover stew from the night before. You put your book aside and placed yourself directly in front of where he was sitting. He looked up at you, silently, expecting you to state your intent.

You didn’t say a word, instead communicating with your eyes and body as you slowly unbuttoned your sweater, delicately letting it fall off of your body and arms and to the floor at your feet. You’d worn a bra that hooked in the front, so it took no effort to unclasp it and cast it aside.

Loki was staring with awe, his eyes bulging, his mouth slightly agape as you slowly unzipped your jeans, pushing them down to your ankles and stepping out of them, leaving only your lavender-colored lace panties against your skin. You decided to be a brat and leave those on for the time being.

If I’m doing this, I may as well add some spice to it, you imagined. I don't have to do all the work…

“I’m yours,” you declared, kneeling slowly and bringing your hands up to Loki’s knees, pushing them apart and placing yourself in between his legs. “Do what you want to me. I trust you completely with my safety…and with my pleasure, Loki.”

He was still for a moment, and you were beginning to fear that your plan wasn’t working, until he finally got up, pulling your arms up with him and bringing you both to your feet.

“Are you certain?” he asked quickly.

Nodding, you smiled. “Please. Now. I want to learn.”

That wide smile that you found both frightening and fascinating finally reappeared as he held out a hand, taking yours and guiding you toward his bedroom. “Then, Y/N, it’s time for your next lesson.”

@kats72 @violethaze @cheekyscamp @javagirl328 @yelkmelk @mischief2sarawr @buttercupcookies-blog @lokidokieokie @fictive-sl0th @jaidenhawke @caothicshit @holdmytesseract @anukulee @joyful-enchantress @simplyholl @meowmeow-motherfucker @huntress-artemiss @lokisgoodgirl @loz-3 @mjsthrillernp @alexakeyloveloki @linaax @noideakitten @evelyn-rathmore @lovingchoices14 @itzcomplctd7 @praq123 @the-fantasy-loving-angel @alexakeyloveloki @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @admiralatthebowofnails @vanilla-daydreaming

#loki #fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu loki #tom hiddelston loki #dont fear the reaper #loki x reader smut #loki fluff #loki x y/n #loki x reader #Dom!Loki #Sub!Reader #Dom!Loki x Sub!Reader #Soft!Dom!Loki

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greatgigintheskiess · 1 year

Text

The whole world at your fingertips

Cw: Cold Whump, Tiny Whump

Word Count: 3.4 k

For all, once again it was winter. Trees had lost their leaves, leaving only bare and naked branches behind, which now stood lonely in the landscape. Snow has fallen, covering every green meadow in pure white, and most animals hibernate in their warm shelters, waiting for the cold to pass. In the late afternoon, the sun already started to set, painting the sky in beautiful colors of pink and blue. Snow on the mountains shimmered in the evening light while icy winds were blowing through a forest of white high pines.

Although Carl would’ve liked to admire such a pretty landscape for a bit longer, he still had to move on through the deep snow in direction towards his home. Probably, it had been a good idea to make his way back a bit earlier, since night would fall very soon. And if it wasn’t for this chatty trader at the market, through whom he became involved in a longer conversation, Carl surely would’ve been home already. The older man kept on walking through the forest, snow crunching under his feet. Soon, he spotted his cabin in the distance, letting out a relieved grunt as his face was stinging from the cold, cheeks and nose reddened. The basket filled with potatoes, which he carried on his back, was getting heavier and heavier with time. Carl finally placed it on the ground beside the front door, grabbing a lantern from inside to bring the basket to his storage.

Just when the cooper passed his small shed, he heard a noise coming from a barrel, which stood next to it outside. First, Carl believed he had misheard, since his ears weren’t the best anymore. But when he came closer to the barrel, which usually was used for rainwater in spring, the man heard it once again. It sounded like a soft whimper, almost inaudible. Carl held the lantern over the barrel, illuminating the darkness right away and glanced into it.

And there was something on the very ground of it, indeed. The man recognized a tiny animal with a striped bushy tail and small ears laying on the wood, shivering from the cold. But on a second glance, that wasn’t just a raccoon, it was a child.

A little boy.

His light brown hair was ruffled and unkempt, his ragged clothes way too thin for winter and the tiny child was curled into a ball, pulling his legs close to his body. He whimpered quietly, still shivering and didn’t even notice the man glancing down on him. Carl has never seen such a little creature before. He knew there were myths about tinies but certainly not about raccoon hybrids. Nevertheless, the man had pity for the poor little thing. The boy probably only looked for a warm shelter and fell into the barrel, being hopelessly trapped in it.

The cooper reached his hand into the barrel, picking up the child which was merely the size of his thumb. "Hey, how did you end up there, little one?” Carl mumbled under his breath, gently opening his fist to look at the tiny boy laying on his palm.

The boy tried blinking his eyes open and slightly shifted on the warm surface but was too exhausted to respond. Only a few whimpers left the child’s throat and Carl could tell that he was freezing terribly by his shivers and chattering teeth.

"You must be really cold, aren’t you?” The older man frowned, glancing down on the raccoon child in concern. "Better get you inside.”

Not sooner said as done, Carl as carefully as possible carried the boy on his palm to the front door, snapping the latch out of the lock and the wooden door opened with a slight creaking. The man slowly entered the cabin, watching every step of his and avoided any harsh movements to not trip and risk dropping the little boy on his palm. In the twilight of the fallen night by now, he could only recognize the silhouettes of his furniture through the gleaming light the lantern provided. Gently, Carl laid the boy on a soft pillow in his cot, covering him with a scrap of fur. His tiny hands clenched into the fabric, the whole body still trembling uncontrollably and his fluffy ears were laid back. The child stirred slowly, whimpering as sleep soon took him. He was unconscious, yet alive and breathing to Carl's relief.

Still he wondered. Where did this little creature come from and what was he doing here all alone by himself?

But right now, the man only hoped he could warm up the child. He lit a fire for the night, guarding the boy's sleep for a while. And Carl was relieved to have finished his purchases earlier because not even an hour later, it started snowing so heavily that no one could even see through. The man sat beside the cot, looking outside a small window in the raging snow while the fire was crackling quietly nearby.

Fortunately though, he had found the child outside just before the upcoming blizzard, Carl thought.

Lost in thoughts, he was snapped out when the man heard the boy quietly groaning, waking up from his sleep. He slightly blinked his eyes open, looking very pale, as if all color had disappeared out of his face. Teal eyes widened in fear, glaring up to the giant man. He winced when Carl carefully neared him, taking a seat on the cot beside the pillow, on which the child lay. He was still shivering, although by now, the room was heated up by the warmth the fireplace contributed.

So might the only reason be that the boy was utterly afraid of him?

Admittedly, he would also be scared of someone twenty times his size. So who was he to blame?

"You don't have to be scared, little one." The man soothed, looking down on the tiny boy. "I won't hurt you."

Staring into Carl's eyes, he was filled with dread and straightened on the way too big pillow. The child tensed, shuddering, as his shoulders rose. He huddled as far away as possible, creasing his forehead. Carl watched the boy and didn't move a muscle to not scare him even more. For a moment, there was silence. The man hesitated, expecting some kind of reaction from the kid, but nothing followed. Frightened eyes met his, the boy's hands gripped so tightly into the soft fur, showing white knuckles. Carl lowered his chin, taking a deep breath and prepared to choose his next words thoughtfully.

"I just took you out of that barrel and saved you from the cold." Carl added, gesturing with his hand. "See, this is my home."

The boy averted his eyes, studying the cozy room for a brief moment until his attention fell back again on the giant man sitting in front of him. He didn't appear to be a threat to the boy, yet he held his breath, expecting the worst to happen. The man still was a total stranger and the boy helplessly small in comparison. However, there was this one question circling in his mind, making him wonder about all of this.

"Y-you saved me...? Why?" The child's voice quivered, his lip trembling slightly.

The boy turned his head, pulling his knees together, and moved his tail closer to his body. Awe glowed in his eyes, furrowing in tension. Maybe replying with such a question could have been a mistake. Even talking back to someone who can easily squish life out of him by one grip. But now it was too late for regrets. If the giant wanted, he could grab and kill him right away.

But to his surprise, the man didn't act like any of this. He looked down on the child and pursed his lips, scratching his forehead. He didn't appear to be angry or vicious, rather…overwhelmed?

"Because you were all alone there, in thin rags and I couldn't just leave you there." The giant replied in a raucous voice, sounding stoic but not intimidating. He shifted slowly on the cot, which made the boy cringe to the sudden movement. The child jerked away, shifting his shoulders in a half-shrug. The growing anticipation for something to happen increased and the boy felt more anxious in every second passing by.

"I-i was always told to stay away from humans..." The raccoon child said timidly.

His little heart was furiously pounding in his chest and he started feeling dizzy that the world was seemingly spinning around him in endless circles. And he didn't know in which direction this conversation might go. Maybe that was all some kind of sick cat-and-mouse game to stall him. Maybe the giant only waited for the moment where he got distracted, losing his temper.

Whatever that was, it became unnerving.

Carl could clearly see that the boy was feeling more and more tense, although there wasn't a single reason for him to feel that way. He just tried moving on with their little conversation and was surprised that the child was even willing to talk to him. But how could he show the boy that he wasn't a threat to him? The whole time, he had wondered what the kid had been doing near his home, anyway. He was also way too young to survive on his own out there, since the boy couldn't be older than ten. Carl hesitated asking the kid about his parents though.

"Did your parents tell you that?" He uttered eventually, tilting his chin.

The child slightly shook his head, struggling to speak. "No, t-the other hybrids." He stuttered in a weakened voice. "A few took me in after my parents died."

"They…" He faltered, visibly in distress, "were killed by a human…"

The boy looked down, unable to meet Carl's eyes. He was too exhausted for this. He felt awful and didn't know why. As if he had lost control of his body, his teal eyes soon filled with tears, a flush crept over his pale freckled skin and his face contorted while the small body was still trembling. Before the man could even respond something like expressing condolences to him for his loss, he was interrupted by a quiet sniffle and a low breaking voice.

"Please, don't kill me too!" The boy trailed off into body-wracking sobs, turning away from the man's glance. "Please, I don't want to die!"

Carl bit his lip. His brows turned into a frown, eyes narrowing in concern. His stoic facade seemed to crumble when he watched the child crying. Seeing the little raccoon boy like this shattered his heart, not only because he lost his family but also that the child expected him to do such awful things too.

"Hey, I would never kill an innocent living being." The man assured, leaning a bit closer to the child. "Especially not a kid."

What was he supposed to do now?

Carl didn't know much about comforting children as he himself barely interacted with any. And this one was so small too, that he feared to hurt him by accident additionally. A bit awkwardly he stretched out his hand, drew it nearer to the little creature until his fingers wrapped around the boy's body, picking him up gently. The kid squeezed his eyes shut, still sobbing and didn't dare to raise his head. Carl held him a bit higher, almost on eye level, to look into the child's flushed face.

"And honestly, I don't blame you for being scared of me but can I at least know your name?"

In response, the man only heard a few further sobs and sniffles that made him feel unintentionally bad about this whole situation. That poor kid must be shocked to the core, completely overwhelmed as he turned into a crying mess now. And that's exactly what this whole thing has been so far: A mess.

Despite this, the boy's crying became more faint soon and he slowly raised his chin, noticing that he had just been asked a question. Carl watched him patiently as he wiped away some of his tears, seemingly calmed down and peered up to the man with reddened eyes, cheeks turned crimson.

"A-arin, sir..." The child replied with a trembling voice.

Carl really had to suppress a chuckle as nobody has ever addressed him like that. Without question, 'sir' sounded very nice. And it did amuse him in the slightest way as his height probably inspired awe in the boy to show his counterpart some respect. Sure, it was no wonder when the kid chose his words carefully; he was sitting right on the man's palm, nervous like a cat on a hot tin roof.

"You can call me Carl."

For a minute he had thought how to put it in words best that he would keep the boy here with him. Because the child certainly didn't look like he would want to stay any longer in the man's company. And yeah, maybe he could also let the kid go into the snow storm, saying that he doesn't care but that wouldn't be the truth. He did care and he had pity for the kid.

"Now listen, Arin, it's not that I'm going to force you to stay here but I can't let you go into this blizzard." Carl pointed at the window beside, where a heavy snowstorm was raging in the darkness, unable to see anything through it. Arin snapped up his head, face pale like a ghost.

Wait, what-

Stay? Here?

The boy expected anything but not this. This had to be a joke. Where's that sudden care coming from, anyway? Shouldn't humans be evil, disdainful creatures? Why did this one save him then? Everything about this seemed off, completely confusing Arin. And even after this conversation he still couldn't come to terms with the idea of being in a human's house, sitting on a human's hand, why, talking to one even!

"But I don't want to be a burden to you..." Then followed quietly, cutting the man off guard. He saw Arin looking down, wiping away some of his remaining tears.

Such a small child? A burden? Nonsense. Apart from this, Carl lived all alone here, a few miles away from the next village, so he had no one to talk to anyway. And a little bit of company sure wouldn't hurt.

"Trust me, you're not." Carl said without even batting an eye.

Arin didn't know what to answer on this and continued on awkwardly staring a hole into the floor. And after he didn't come up with any more excuses, the boy decided to give in, letting it be. Arguing with the human is probably pointless and a waste of time so Arin just accepted the offer gratefully, even with feeling uneasy. In a sudden, he felt the ground moving underneath his body that he flinched slightly, gasping when he saw the giant had started walking. Arin reeled, almost falling backwards but straightened again, sitting as upright as possible. Luckily, the man didn’t carry him far but this short ride was already enough to make Arin's stomach turn. He was glad when Carl stopped, laying out his hand on a wooden surface which appeared to be a table. Arin hesitated, staring up to the man who gave him an expectant look.

"Go ahead, kid." He urged, waiting for the boy to move.

Eventually, Arin understood what he was supposed to do, so he carefully climbed down the man's hand, standing on the table on shaky legs. His body now felt even heavier than before, holding his weight seemed so much harder. Yet the boy tried to hold himself as steady as possible so the giant wouldn't notice that. Arin already appeared to be weak and worn out when he cried in front of the stranger. And he didn't want to embarrass himself even more.

The child turned around to Carl who sat down on a chair beside him. They were staring at each other for a while without a single word. Arin gulbed, feeling how sore his throat was. The boy already felt uneasy and this situation didn't necessarily make it better. Was it strange? Maybe. Awkward? Absolutely.

"So," Carl broke the silence then, shoving a plate of leftovers to the boy. "You're sure hungry, aren't you?" Arin startled at the sudden sound of the porcelain scraping over the wood and peered at the food presented there. It was a slice of bread with few potatoes but so big in comparison to the tiny boy. Carl tore off a small piece of bread, handing it out to the child. Arin still stood there motionless, staring at the man in confusion. Carl couldn't help but leave a slight smirk on his lips.

"Eat, my child, it's not poisoned." He mumbled softly, amused about Arin's cowed attitude.

The kid probably still thinks he's going to harm him intentionally, Carl thought. Sure, that whole situation must be very odd to the boy and he was obviously still struggling to trust him, yet Carl hoped to show him that there's nothing to be afraid of and that Arin was safe here in his custody.

The boy hesitated when he heard his stomach growling, noticing how hungry he actually was. And he hasn't eaten in days, not a single crumble. But could he just accept the giant's offer? What if that's just a trick? Arin was still scared but then finally took the piece with trembling hands and ate a few bites. It tasted dry but was better than nothing. The child tried swallowing down as much of the bread as he could but every swallow only hurt more. And his throat felt so sore that he wondered why that was the case.

Carl's smile soon disappeared when he saw how the boy screwed up his face, struggling with every bite. Also the kid looked unusually pale and sickly in addition to his skinny body. Carl had thought he would do the boy some good by giving him something to eat but now he noticed that Arin probably felt too unwell.

He stopped eating, when the man addressed him in concern. "Y'know, looking at you, you don't look too healthy, kid." And it kinda made sense, since he was only wearing thin clothes, walking through the snow with bare feet in such icy weather. The boy probably caught a cold, no wonder, when he was trapped in the barrel for how long?

"My throat… it hurts." Arin quietly whined in response, looking down sadly on the piece of bread. "But I'm so hungry."

Carl saw a few tears glistening on the boy's cheeks and eyed the poor child with pity. The little one was sniveling, looking so helplessly and scared.

"You probably have fever." The man added, a brow furrowing in concern. "Wanna lay down for a while?"

Arin felt too tired to complain. He felt how his legs eventually gave in, how his head was pounding, cheeks glowing. Only now Carl noticed how he was actually trembling all over.

My, and he thought the kid was still scared.

The boy nodded slightly after the man's question, almost stumbling towards him and looked even more exhausted than before. Carl looked sadly at the child and held out his hand again to let the boy climb on it.

"I'm s-so cold…" Arin mumbled through his aching throat and crossed his arms in an attempt to stay warm. Unfortunately, that didn't help much. The boy curled into a ball on Carl's palm who stood up, carrying him back to the cot.

"I know, kid, I know." The man said in a sad voice and laid Arin back where he once woke up a while ago.

Although Carl absolutely had no idea what to do with such a small child like this, let alone how to nurse him back to health, he still would try to help him. Because if not he, who else? Arin had no one who would look after him, who would care for him.

And somehow Carl felt responsible for this little boy so he would keep him here, keep him safe in his hands.

#g/t #tiny whumpee #tiny whump #parental g/t #giant/tiny #g/t community #g/t writing #whump writing #g/t fluff #cold whump #fever whump #whump community #parental caretaker

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the-cult-of-russo · 1 year

Text

Just Beneath The Flames (Part 15)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Warnings: cursing, smut at some point probably lmao, zombie shit, typical canon violence. You know the drill.

A/N: Look at me, getting another chapter out so soon lmao

There won’t be a chapter tomorrow. I mentioned in another post that I’m going to a candlelight rock opera thing and I’m super excited about it, so obviously I won’t be here to write the next chapter and put it up for you guys.

I hope this chapter soothes the sting of some of the threats I was making in the replies of the previous one looool

—-----------------

Day Ten

You glanced up to the sky, knowing it would soon be dark and you blew out a sigh, your hand tightening around your bow. The squirrel you’d had days ago did little to ease the deep ache of hunger you’d both been feeling and you hadn’t been able to find anything else since. You were both feeling the weight of it but Billy hadn’t been snappish with you like he had before, no doubt because he felt guilty too. But you could feel how tightly wound he was and it was making things uncomfortable. The lack of animals gnawed at you. You couldn't work out if they were just dying off, being eaten by the dead first or if someone in the area had been hunting them. You really didn’t want to think about the last option and what that might mean after everything you’d just been through. On top of the lack of food, you’d now run out of water too. You were starting to really worry about if you’d even make it to Virginia at this rate.

“What’s that?” you asked softly, squinting at something a little aways in the trees. Billy stilled, grabbing your wrist to stop you from moving too before he slowly drew closer. You could see then what it was. You wouldn't call it a cabin, that would be too generous. It was a little bigger than a shed but not big enough to be a full-blown cabin. You and Billy looked at each other, nerves stabbing you in the gut before you both readied your knives and walked over. He looked around before tapping on the wooden door but no noise responded. With one more look at you, he tried the door and it opened. He stepped in first with you behind him. The place was pretty small and your eyes swept around the place. There was a wooden table at one end covered in blood and you mused it had been used to skin and prep animals. There were no doors for closets or toilets, just some cupboards along the wall and a small bundle of blankets against the wall.

“I think someone’s been staying here,” you cautioned lightly, giving Billy a meaningful look as he wasted no time in ripping open the cupboards.

“We won’t be long, just take what we need,” he muttered and you felt some relief when you saw him grab some cans and pile them on the floor. It didn't look like the kind of place someone would usually sleep, just simply shelter to sort out animals from hunting. It also looked like there were maybe one or two people staying here at most. You couldn't be sure but it didn't look like a full group. You still wouldn't take any chances though. You didn't want to be here when someone came back to see they were being robbed and with darkness quickly descending on you, you’d still need to put some distance between you and here before you could set up camp so you didn't run into them. With Billy clearly thinking the same, he came over quickly with a few cans and some bottles of water, shoving them into the backpack that had been yours but he’d taken to wearing since you had your bow and quiver. It wasn’t a lot but it would last you a few days and you knew if you weren't in a rush, he’d probably have taken some more. You felt the urge to stop and drink some water or eat whatever lay in the cans as your hunger consumed you but you pushed it down because it wasn't safe yet.

“Come on,” he rushed, ushering you out of the tiny cabin once more as you both set off. You felt more relaxed now and Billy seemed it too. You’d finally caught a break, finally gotten some much needed food and water. Now you just had to hurry and set up camp far enough away so you could enjoy the fruits of your labor. You didn’t make it too far before something stopped you in your tracks.

“Help! Please help!” someone called out and both you and Billy stood still, his eyes narrowing as he glanced around.

“Could be a trap,” he muttered, giving you a conflicted look and you nodded.

“Please! Somebody help me!” the voice cried out again but you heard the utter desperation in the tone and frowned.

“I don’t think it’s a trap,” you mused, giving him a look. He looked at you for a moment before nodding, the pair of you slowly following the sobbing as the voice continued to plead for help. You were nervous about what you might find and part of you wondered if you were stupid for falling for it, but you couldn't shake the tone of the man's voice. It caused a visceral reaction deep into your bones and you knew you couldn't walk away from it.

You broke through some trees to see a man covered in blood, sitting leaning against a tree as he cried and you felt something itch in your chest as your frown deepened. The man had a gun in his hands but made no move to raise it and it was only then you noticed the limp and lifeless roamer next to him on the floor.

“Oh, thank god!” the man wept and you and Billy shared a look.

“Please help me. I-I’ve been bit. I… I can’t bring myself to do it, but please…” he shook his head, giant tears streaming down his pale and clammy face as he looked from you to Billy.

“You want us to kill you?” Billy asked hesitantly. You felt for the man. If you were unlucky enough to get bitten but not get eaten, the infection would be brutal. The fever would get so bad it would boil you from the inside out and you didn't blame him for wanting it to end.

“Please! I- I just want it to stop,” the man wept pitifully and you shifted uncomfortably where you stood.

“I don’t know if you’ve come across my hunting shed, you can… you can stay there if you want, take whatever you need. Just please make it stop,” he sobbed. You found your eyes pricking with tears, a lump forming in your throat. He seemed like a nice man, something seemingly so rare in the new world and you hated that it had to be one of the good ones to go out like this when there were evil assholes parading around and taking whatever it was they wanted. Billy gave you look, his eyes softening when he saw you getting upset. He seemed to be asking without words what you thought and you gave him a curt nod, your lips pursing as if to stop your lower lip from wobbling.

“Any last requests?” Billy asked, sympathy coating his tone as he looked at the man sadly.

“Bury me at the back of the cabin with my wife, please,” the man murmured. He looked relieved that his torture was about to end and the ache in your chest intensified. Billy moved over to you, setting a hand on your back.

“Go wait at the cabin, I’ll come back when I’m done, alright?” he said softly, his concerned gaze sweeping over your face and you nodded again before turning to the man.

“It was really nice meeting you, I’m sorry it had to be this way,” you bit out, voice trembling and raw. The man nodded with a watery smile and you turned away quickly, hurrying back to the cabin. You blinked rapidly as if to clear your tears but all it did was make them fall and you swiped them away quickly. The whole thing was tragic and that could easily be you or Billy in that situation and you tried to push it all away, not wanting to feel so upset over a stranger. You got back to the cabin, blowing out a long breath and deciding to busy yourself with having a proper look around now you had permission to do so with no fear of being killed for it. There were more canned goods in the cupboards and there was a wooden chest along the wall. When you opened it, you saw piles of salted meat and you smiled despite it all. This was better than canned shit and there was quite a bit of it. You were sure that this along with the cans would last you and Billy on the rest of your trip and the idea of not having to stress about food made you feel ten times lighter. Like the crushing weight that had pressed down unbearably on your chest had been removed completely. There was a makeshift fire with a grill over the top and you got to work cooking some of the meat for when Billy got back. He was taking a while but you knew from experience that burying a body could take a long time. Part of you wanted to go and offer your help but you knew he’d rather you be in here after seeing you be upset.

It was dark outside once he came in and he looked tired and a little defeated. But once his eyes were drawn to the fire and the meat sitting on the grill, he lit up a little and you found yourself smiling at him.

“There’s a lot of preserved meat here. I think it's enough to last us,” you murmured, sounding more hopeful than in far too long. You saw the tension leave his shoulders as he walked over to you, plonking down next to you by the fire.

“About time we caught a break,” he replied tiredly, giving you a smile.

“I think this might be deer, but I’m not too sure. I’d be glad no matter what it was,” you snorted and he grinned at you. Once food was cooked, and finally a decent amount, you both devoured it quickly and the feeling of a full belly had you almost curled up and sleeping instantly.

“Shit, that was good,” Billy murmured. He looked so relaxed now and you liked it that way. You both already had so much bullshit to deal with without the worry of food and water tacked on top.

“I was thinkin’... maybe we should stay here for a coupla days. We could do with the rest, get our energy up, eat some good food. It's safe enough we could both sleep,” he suggested and your eyes snapped up to his in shock for a moment. You’d thought the same thing, not that you’d have ever brought it up knowing how desperate he was to get to Virginia and see what happened there. But both of you were having not enough sleep taking turns taking watch at night and all the walking was doing you in. The lack of food had only made it worse and you knew having a couple of days of respite would work wonders for you both. You just hadn't expected him to be the one to suggest it.

“I think that’s a good idea,” you agreed, giving him a smile as he nodded. He moved to barricade the only door in the place to make sure it was safe and you glanced over at the small pile of blankets before tugging your boots and jacket off and making your way over to it. Billy followed suit, his boots next to yours before he lay on the blankets next to you. Even though they were thin, it was better than laying on the dirt floor and you felt your body unwind before you rolled to face away from him. You were a little closer than you normally were when you slept. Even back in the old camp when you’d slept in the same tent, there had been space between you and since you’d started this journey with him and you’d been sleeping pressed against his legs, now you could feel all of his side as he lay on his back with you on your side. It didn’t take long before sleep tugged you under, the feeling of being somewhat safe so foreign to you yet welcoming.

Day Eleven

When you woke up the next morning, the first thing you were aware of was how warm and safe you felt. It was such a nice feeling that you lay there sleepily, feeling content and calm. As your senses slowly came to you, you became aware of a weight around your middle and as you blinked your eyes open, you came face to face with Billy’s chest. You had rolled over in the night and so had he. You were curled into his chest, your hands fisting the front of his sweater and his arm was around you, hand splayed on your lower back. You felt your cheeks heat up at how close you were and cursed yourself. You had no idea how Billy was going to react to waking up like this. You tried to move a little, testing to see if you could get out of his grasp without him knowing but his hand flexed on your back.

“Mornin’,” he rasped and your body stilled. You were unsure if you'd just woken him or if he’d already been awake, yet he made no move to get away from you. He didn't recoil or get up.

“Morning,” you replied uncertainly, feeling your heart go a mile a minute. You didn’t dare move, not wanting to break the moment as you wondered if his sleepiness was making him a little more affectionate than usual. He seemed content with just laying like this with you for a long while and you tried to relax, soaking it in while it lasted, but eventually, he moved away a little. His had came up and tucked some of your hair behind your ear and it was such an intimate gesture that you felt like you couldn’t breathe. He’d always been pretty tactile, it seemed like he was just a touchy person that way. He’d held your hand, hugged you, kissed you on the head plenty of times and you weren’t sure why this was making you feel like you were about to turn into a puddle. Maybe it was the way his almost black eyes were just gazing at you in a way that made you feel like he could see right through to your insides.

“I love you, you know that right?” he asked softly and your chest felt like it exploded with warmth at his words and you couldn't help the smile toying on your lips.

“I love you too,” you replied easily, yet you knew you didn’t mean it just in the same way he’d said it. While you’d have loved for him to utter those words to you in different circumstances, it was still nice to hear them all the same. You might never get Billy in that way but you were family. He blinked at you for a moment, a look you couldn’t quite read on his face before a small frown creased at his brows and he moved his hand away.

“No… I meant…” he muttered, shaking his head before he sat up. It felt like stones settling in your stomach and you wondered if it had been clear as day all over your face what you’d really meant when you’d said it back. Panic was setting in.

“Billy?” you asked warily, sitting up yourself as you watched him rake his hands through his hair in agitation. He rolled his shoulder, his dark eyes darting to you before back away again.

“When I kissed you before… before what happened with Rawlins, I-... I did ‘cause I wanted to, ‘cause I’d wanted to for a long damn time. And it… it felt right. But then after… I came out of there with blood-stained hands and I didn’t want you to see that, I didn’t want you to see me. So I pushed you away ‘cause I thought it was better that way and then you told me the kiss meant nothin’, that it was just a stupid kiss and I made my mind up. I knew I had to ignore whatever it was I felt ‘cause you didn’t feel the same and I didn’t want keep pushin’ you away like that. I didn’t wanna lose you,” he started, turning his intense stare to you. Your mouth floundered a moment, your sleepy brain trying to comprehend the words he’s just said but he wasn’t done.

“The more time I spend with you, the harder it is to just pretend I don’t care like that. And then I… I thought you were fuckin’ dead and all I could think about was how I never got to tell you how I really felt because I was a fuckin’ coward. How you were just… gone and I’ve never felt to empty before. We’re family and that shit’s important to me, but I don’t love you the same as Frank or Karen or any of the others. I don’t just love you like family, I’m in love with you,” he admitted with wide and dark eyes, his face the picture of vulnerability as he stared at you. Your brain completely short-circuited, his words rendering you mute as you tried to understand that he felt the same way about you and had this whole time.

“Fuck… I shouldn’ta… I’m sorry,” he muttered quickly, looking away from you in horror before he got to his feet, making his way to the door without even putting his boots or jacket on. You moved quicker than you’d ever done in your entire life, springing to your feet before grabbing his arm and whirling him around before he got to the door.

“You can’t just… you can’t just stay something like that then leave,” you murmured insistently, your mind still trying to make sense of it all and how to explain that you felt the same.

“I shouldn’ta have said anything. You already made it clear it ain’t like that for you, the kiss was a mistake. You don’t love me like that,” he argued. He had a look on his face like a wild animal that had been caged and you shook your head emphatically at him.

“I do love you like that,” you blurted, needing him to know before he ran off outside to god knows where thinking that you didn’t. Pure confusion washed over his face, his eyes narrowing a little as he tilted his head at you.

“What?” he asked slowly.

“The kiss wasn’t a mistake for me. I said that ‘cause I thought it was for you and I just wanted you to talk to me again. I thought… I thought you just kissed me because you wanted me to do what you wanted or it was a heat of the moment thing and then you just froze me out. I didn’t know…” you trailed off and his eyes scanned your face like he was trying to find signs of deception or he thought you’d burst out laughing at him. But you saw his shoulders relax, brows raising a little as he realized you were telling the truth.

“You… you really love me?” he asked, his voice small and shaking lightly and it had your breath catching in your throat as you nodded.

“I have done for a while, even Matt picked up on it back when I had the tree house,” you admitted sheepishly, your cheeks heating up when you remembered arguing with the man over it as you denied it all. He chuckled, moving the arm you were holding until his hand encircled yours and you felt like you were free-falling.

“You mean to tell me we’ve been dancin’ around each other like idiots for months?” he asked, a wry smirk tugging at his lips that made you snort.

“Looks like it,” you shrugged, still in shock and half wondering if this was a dream. He gave you a smile, one of those genuine ones that had his eyes crinkling a little and your breathing hitched as he used his hold on your hand to tug you closer to him. You stumbled a little, your free hand going to his chest as you blinked up at him. The hand not holding yours came to cup your face, his thumb rubbing your cheek softly. Your heart was thundering in your chest as his eyes darted to your mouth before back to your eyes and then he was leaning in. You’d thought your last kiss with him had been intense, adrenaline running high and amplified by what was happening around you, but it was nothing compared to the blinding fireworks that erupted in your stomach as his lips connected with yours this time. It felt like everything else melted away around you as you kissed him back, feeling how the hand on your face slid to the back of your neck to pull you even closer to him. He poured himself into the kiss fully and you answered in kind, parting your lips as your tongue tangled with his and made you breathless. You almost felt drunk when he pulled away, his eyes gazing down at you before he nudged your nose with his and it made you smile. He moved to rest his forehead on yours, his other hand now on the other side of your face and you didn’t think you’d ever be able to get enough of him.

“I love you,” he murmured softly, eyes imploring as he moved away yet his hands stayed stuck to your face.

“I love you too,” you replied with a shy smile, earning a smile from him in reply.

The day was a little odd with the shift between you two. There wasn’t much to do and you’d both agreed to rest up and spend another night in the tiny cabin so you’d be better rested for the journey ahead. With no TV or books to read, you’d both set to work in packing up stuff to take. Billy had found a backpack and a duffle and you’d packed them full of water, cans and the preserved meat. It would be more than enough for you both to get to Virginia and you felt so much better at not having to worry. The dynamic change took some getting used to though. The packing and resting and eating would have kisses sprinkled in between and more than a few times, it got a little heated as you made out like horny teenagers. You really couldn't help yourself though. It felt freeing almost to admit how you felt about him, to know he felt the same way about you. The notion of caring for someone so deeply was utterly terrifying in this world but you knew you didn’t want to let this go, didn’t want to waste whatever this was while it lasted. You knew more than most not to take life for granted, that you were never promised another day, another minute. You knew he felt the same way about you and you weren’t about to question it or talk yourself out of it. With feelings out in the open, it felt like you had a raging inferno burning inside of you. One that was making you wonder why you were trying to resist your urges when you both might not even make it until tomorrow. It wasn’t like before the turn, there weren't rules on what was appropriate for how long you should wait, how many dates you should go on before just allowing it to happen. You were all living on borrowed time here and you didn’t want to waste any of it. With that in mind, that night when you once again found Billy on top of you on the makeshift bed as he kissed you senseless, you decided to throw caution to the wind. His lips were insistent and needy against yours and you arched up at him as you kissed back, earning a groan from him before he broke away breathlessly. You watched with a hooded gaze as he closed his eyes, looking like he was trying to calm himself. You arched up again, rubbing yourself on him through your clothes and he groaned once more, his eyes snapping open and the hunger behind them made your insides ache.

“Y/N,” he warned, giving you a look that made a smirk toy on your lips.

“I want you,” you admitted honestly. You tried to keep the nerves at bay. You knew he loved you back, you didn’t doubt that in the least, but this whole thing was so new to you, you felt a little out of your depth here. His eyes darkened but he made no move to either move away or get closer as he blinked down at you.

“Please,” you whispered, your eyes not wavering from his and you saw his resolve snap.

His lips claimed yours ferociously and you moaned into the kiss, almost whining when he pulled away and shot you a smirk. He knelt up, pulling something out the back pocket of his jeans and you snorted when you saw it.

“Seriously?” you asked wryly as you spied the condom in his hand. He smiled somewhat bashfully, giving you a lazy shrug.

“Found some on a run a while ago, thought they were worth takin’,” he answered with a smirk.

“Planning to ravage some beautiful damsels in distress?” you asked with a raised brow, desperately trying to ignore the bite of the green monster nipping at your heels because you knew it was ridiculous.

“Definitely beautiful, but she ain’t no damsel,” he answered smoothly, punctuating his meaning as his eyes trailed over your body and left a trail of fire in their wake. The idea that he’d picked up some condoms to hopefully use with you one day made your head spin and you sat up, kneeling too as you grabbed his sweater. He shot you a rueful smile as you tugged it up along with his t-shirt, pulling it over his head and discarding it to the side. Your hands trailed over his smooth and toned chest and then his lips claimed yours again. He broke away to remove the layers you had on your top half, tossing them into a pile with his before he unclasped your bra and threw that too. You suddenly found yourself lying on your back again with his lips on yours and you felt like a live wire ready to go off. His lips trailed from yours to your jaw and then your neck. You let out a gasp when he sucked on the tender flesh there and you knew he’d leave a mark. He left dirty open-mouthed kisses down your neck and then to your chest, his dark eyes looking up at you before he grabbed one of your breasts and circled your nipple with his tongue. Your breathing was coming in sharp and fast, soft moans leaving your lips that got more intense when he started sucking on your nipple and you squirmed under him. He gave the other breast the same attention before he kissed his way back up to your mouth, tugging at your lower lip with his teeth in a way that made you whine. He was making you feel delirious. You felt one of his hands undo your jeans and a loud moan erupted from your chest as you felt his hand slip inside them and your panties and started circling your clit.

“Fuck… you’re so wet,” he moaned as he hovered over you, watching you with rapt interest. He slipped a finger inside of you, then two and you were moaning, pushing back at his fingers and making him groan. It had been so long since you’d been touched like this you’d almost forgotten what it felt like. You knew Billy was in the same boat though. You knew from Karen he’d been a bit of a player back before the world fell, that he had sex like it was a sport to him. But you also knew from jabs Frank would give him that he’d gone without since the turn, Frank gleefully telling him he must have blue balls and that it was a shame that Billy ‘The Beaut’ Russo was celibate in the apocalypse.

His fingers fucked you mercilessly, making your moans bounce off the wooden walls in the tiny cabin.

“Billy,” you gasped, feeling dangerously close to the edge as your face scrunched up in pleasure.

“Atta girl, let me have it,” he growled and you were powerless to deny him what he wanted. You clenched around his fingers, a broken gasp leaving your lips as you came hard. When your eyes fluttered back open, he was watching you intently, like he found you fascinating coming apart by his hands like that. He slipped his hand out of your pants, never breaking eye contact as he sucked them clean and you thought you might just self-combust at this rate. He started tugging your pants and panties down roughly, his patience seemingly gone now before he rid himself of the rest of his own clothes. You were still riding your high, still feeling like you were floating on clouds as you watched him open the condom and slip it onto his long and thick length, stroking himself a few times. He moved over you again, one arm propping him up beside your head with the other still wrapped around his dick.

“You sure about this?” he asked softly, eyes scanning your face.

“I’m sure,” you murmured, giving him a smile. It was all the encouragement he needed before he was pushing into you. Your moans mingled together as you felt the relief from being so full consume you. You could feel every inch of him as he bottomed out inside of you and he rested his forehead on yours, breathing deeply for a moment like he was trying to control himself. He started moving and the cabin became full of your moans, breaking the otherwise silence. He gripped your jaw roughly, kissing you like he‘d never kiss you again and you felt lightheaded as a hand smoothed up his chest, the other winding into the hair at the base of his skull. You hooked a leg around him, pushing him in even deeper and you swallowed the moan you ripped from him before he started fucking into you faster and harder. Your moans got higher in pitch, more frequent, as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your release.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he moaned against your lips as he broke for air, his face practically feral as he started railing you so hard that you could hear skin hitting skin over your desperate moans. The hand in his hair tightened, the other digging into his back as you pushed back, meeting each harsh thrust he was giving you. Suddenly, it felt like you shattered into a million and one pieces, a guttural moan leaving your lips as you came apart around him and your back bowed deeply. Through your euphoria, you could hear Billy’s sinful moans get louder, feel him going at you harder for a few more thrusts before he came with a deep groan. He thrust lazily a few more times, the pair of you panting and slightly sweaty as you rode your highs. For a moment, you forgot about everything else. You forgot about the dead walking around, forgot about the people you had lost, all you could see was Billy as he looked down at you, a tired but happy smile on his face before he placed a tender kiss to your lips. He pulled out of you, taking off the condom and tossing it into a trashcan across the room before he collapsed onto his back. He held his arm out and you rolled over, snuggling up to him with your head lay on his chest. You felt exhausted but in the best way. You felt weightless. He wrapped his arm around you tightly, his other hand threading into your hair as his fingers rubbed your scalp.

“I love you,” he murmured softly and you found yourself smiling sleepily, snuggling into him more.

“I love you too,” you replied quietly, eyes fluttering shut. You felt his hold on you tighten, a firm kiss pressed to the top of your head before you drifted off into the best sleep you’d had in a long while.

Day Twelve

You double-checked your backpack, glancing at Billy doing the same with his own and the duffel he’d stuffed full. You’d woken up that morning still naked and tangled in his arms and you’d never felt more content. You’d both lay there for a while, just enjoying the peace for once before you knew it was time to head out. A more selfish part of you wanted to just stay here in the little bubble you’d created with him, but you knew you couldn’t. You had stuff to do, people to find. You felt lighter and more determined now and Billy seemed the same. You weren’t sure if it was a few days of proper rest, some decent food or just the fact that all cards were on the table now that had you feeling this way. But you found a spark in you that you’d almost thought you’d lost along the way returning to you. Instead of your thoughts being morbid about what you might find once you got down to Virginia, you found yourself being hopeful for once. Hopeful to find your family, to reunite Billy with his. Hopeful to find a safe place you could all take root and have a new life, one that wasn’t full of pain and suffering. You’d started to feel that just maybe, things might work out.

“Ready?” Billy asked as he came over, backpack slung over one shoulder and the duffel over the other.

“Ready,” you nodded, giving him a smile as you slipped your own on before adjusting your bow and quiver to sit right. He leaned down, placing a chaste kiss to your lips before giving you a warm smile, taking the hand that wasn’t holding your knife as he led you out of the door. The tiny cabin hadn’t seemed like much from the outside but it had been a good find. Not only did you find safe shelter to rest your weary heads and some food to last the rest of your journey, but it would always hold a special place in your heart with what happened there. The time it allowed you to share with Billy as you both opened up to one another in the most raw way possible. You glanced up to Billy as you both started to walk through the trees, watching a wistful look pass his face as he looked back briefly at the cabin. When he turned back to you, his eyes softened and his lips curled up a little.

“What?” he asked, sounding almost amused.

“I love you,” you said simply, making his smile widen as he squeezed your hand. It almost felt like you'd both said it a lot in such a short space of time but you couldn't help it. You’d never tire of telling him, never tire of him telling you. You could still hardly believe he felt the same way.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he grinned, bringing your hand up to his lips as he kissed it sweetly. You honestly had no idea just what the rest of the journey would be like but you knew you could face anything with Billy by your side.

Taglist: (if you’ve been asked to be tagged and aren’t here, it wouldn’t let me tag some people.)

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