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auspicioustidings · 1 day

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Flinch

Summary: You thought you would die trying the day you tried to escape your abusive husband, but destiny has other plans. Words: 5.2k TWs: domestic abuse, rape

(I read this book months ago, forgot all about it and today it burrowed into my head again and I assume caused this so if you wanna read a good version of this concept I'd recommend it!)

You would die trying today. You had to.

The 20 week scan had been yesterday and while your husband was away on a work trip he would return this evening. You knew your bodyguard had already told him that the baby inside you was a girl. He did not want a girl. You shook at the memory of when he left 3 days ago.

He had taken you on your hands and knees, no less cruel in how he did it than before you were pregnant, and told you about how his son would be his legacy. His hot, wet breath had been in your ear as he spilled inside of you. You’d better give me a son, wife. If you misbehave and grow a female I’ll need to fuck myself into your womb to get rid of the little slut and try again.

The baby had saved you the most severe beatings the last 4 months, but your husband found other ways to torture you. You could barely even look at your guard anymore knowing that he had been witness to the week your husband had made you spend in an open room penned in by glass. It had been a luxurious prison cell where everybody could see your every move, the bathroom facilities not hidden from view at all and your body on full display. He said it was so they could make sure you were healthy and happy during your pregnancy and then he had fucked your arse in front of his men and smacked you hard across the cheek when he was finished for being such a cry baby.

He would certainly beat you black and blue for failing to bear him a son. But you didn’t really care about that, you had agreed to be his wife 6 years ago when you were 17 and thought he had hung the stars. But this baby who at first you had hated you had come to love. He would kill her. He would kill any of her sisters after her. You could take any punishment he gave you, maybe you’d get lucky and he’d finally kill you, but your daughter deserved a chance to live.

So you would do something you had not done since your 3rd attempt 5 years ago had ended with broken ribs, a broken nose and a concussion that had made you dizzy and sick for months after. You were going to try and leave.

It would be difficult. Your guard was loyal to your husband and never flinched at his treatment of you, so you did not expect help from him. Your left leg hadn’t quite healed right after it had been hurt a few weeks ago during a particularly rough fulfilment of your marital duties so you couldn’t put weight on it very well.

Plus you knew you were ugly now. Your eyes had sunken in and were smudged underneath with purple from too many sleepless nights. One side of your face was mottled with bruises. The rest of your body was too thin but for your protruding stomach and covered in marks. You remembered your father yelling at you about beauty being the only thing women were worth when you were a child. Your parents had been happy when you got engaged to such a wealthy man and you had not heard from them since the day they handed you over. You had been pretty then. You wondered how disgusted your father would be with how you looked now. He certainly wouldn’t help you in such a state.

There wasn’t much time. Your guard was stuck to your side but for one hour in the afternoon where you were expected to thoroughly clean yourself and prepare yourself for your husband's return. The rules of that never changed regardless of your condition. You would spend the hour making yourself perfect, your holes clean and ready, your skin soft and fragrant, your hair braided how he liked it and a thin nightgown perfectly draping on your body. If he found fault with you then you could expect a great deal of pain before he brought in his men to redo the whole process. It was not pleasant when they did it.

The fear made your mouth dry. Not only would you be punished for trying to escape, but you would be found lacking in your appearance and preparation and that would carry its own punishment. You could not do this.

A kick from your daughter argued that you could and it spurred you into action. This was it, your last chance to save her.

–

“I’m gaggin’ for a pint.”

Ghost snorted a laugh.

“You’re always gagging for something Johnny” he quipped, Gaz elbowing Soap teasingly while Price just rolled his eyes from behind the wheel.

“You’ll behave back there. This truck has a no gagging on anything rule in place. Bunch of bloody moppets” he barked.

The Captain was mostly just glad to be heading back home. Some therapist would have a field day with him considering home to be a small off-the-record safe house on the edges of a tiny fishing village, but then he was sure they would quit long before he had gotten to that part with the amount of shite he had been through.

His team had their own flats dotted around the UK, but they seemed to prefer to spend most of their down time together in the safe house. Maybe one day they would all admit that the safe house was just their actual house now, but it was unlikely to be anytime soon. It was still spartan after all, looking drab from the outside and as regimented and dull as any other military base on the inside. Not really homey. Garrick had sincerely attempted to start a little vegetable garden last year but it had been a resounding failure, meaning the little cottage was surrounded by weeds that choked the path. At this point the locals probably thought it was haunted.

It was still a long way off. Two more hours to base where they could switch out the army issued truck for his own modern and well kept pick up and MacTavish’s frankly ridiculous little hatchback that should really not be able to handle the country roads leading to the safe house but was somehow still kicking. He swore he was some sort of car witch.

“Don’t worry Captain, I’m too classy to have a gag reflex!” Gaz shouted over to him with Soap snickering in the background.

“That right? Lieutenant.”

Price laughed at the carnage happening in the back of the truck as Ghost pounced on Gaz and tried to shove fingers down his throat to get him to gag while Soap took Gaz’s side as he almost always did when it came to a fight with Ghost and tried to fight him off. The rough housing in the back at least kept them occupied for a little bit while Price lit up a cigar.

He wasn’t paying as much attention to the road as he ought to, but then this stretch of road was almost always empty. They were more or less in the middle of nowhere, the nearest civilisation being some fancy gated community out past the right side of the forest this road cut through.

Only 5 hours to go now and at least 3 of those would be done in his much more comfortable truck with climate control and not this tin can.

Ghost chuckled as Johnny grabbed at Gaz’s top, trying to pull him back into the truck as Ghost was shoving him out. Poor Gaz’s top half was dangling precariously out the back and he could barely breathe through the wheezing laughter. Ghost was someone with fast instincts, so he felt Gaz tense and was immediately on guard even before the man yelled out and started scrambling to launch himself out of the back of the truck and onto the road before Price had a chance to properly stop the thing.

“Stop the truck!”

“Bloody hell, Garrick get your arse back in here!” Price yelled and cursed as he brought the truck to a stop a little ahead of where Gaz had jumped out.

Ghost had a hand locked around Soap’s nape, the Lieutenant knowing if he didn’t keep the man grounded he would be out of this truck and by Gaz’s side without even stopping to check for danger. Price trusted him enough that he stayed put, watching the two of them who were watching out the back to see what Garrick did.

–

There was a man on the road. You were so sore and so tired, your adrenaline nearly exhausted. You had gotten so close, the road was right there. But he was one of your husband's you thought. Not one you recognised, but the casual clothes with military gear was just like your guards.

The choice now was how hard to fight. It hardly felt like you could fight anymore, but somewhere in the woods you had made the decision that you were not going back. Better you die with your daughter than allow her to die alone. You hoped this man was ruthless and efficient about it, that he made this quick. You had to make sure he killed you. You were not going back.

“Hey, it’s ok, I’m not going to hurt you. My name’s Kyle and I can help. Are you hurt?”

He sounded painfully kind and that felt unfair. It had been so long since you had been afforded kindness, why now? Maybe this was your last meal.

“I- I won’t go back” you said, screwing up your courage and trying to stand as straight and strong as you could with the exhaustion and pain blanketing your body.

The man slowly moved one hand to take off his cap while the other was stretched open in front of him. He was showing you he wasn’t armed you thought as his cap was put on the ground and he raised his other hand to show it was also empty and crouched a little lower than his full height.

“Ok, I’m not going to make you go back anywhere. I just want to help” he said, gentle.

Throughout the years you had learned not to trust. When you were 10 and your mother had promised you a birthday party but then spent the money on a night out to the pub for her and your father instead. When you got your first period and you asked your father what you should do but he just smacked you for telling him something so disgusting. When your husband promised he would be gentle on your wedding night and it wouldn’t hurt, but he broke both promises. When a maid promised to help you escape but instead told your guard your plan. Your husband had fucked her in front of you while you were laying unable to move from the beating. You had never seen him be so gentle.

You so wanted to trust someone and not have it backfire. Just once. Just enough to give you some hope that your daughter could have a good life with people who would look out for her. But when he shuffled a little closer you flinched and stepped back. It was too hard to try and trust him.

The movement put you more in the dappled early evening sunlight. It would be dark soon.

–

Kyle fought to keep himself relaxed even when the light revealed what he had missed before. The scared woman in front of him was pregnant. Couldn’t have been very far along with how small she was. Her face was a mess of bruises. He wanted to hunt down whatever useless piece of shit had done this to her.

But he had to stay calm for her sake. He couldn’t start demanding information when he hadn't even managed to get close enough to examine her. He needed to get her far away from the danger first, get her medical attention and then get justice once she was happy and healthy and safe.

It also needed to be quick. This was a woman who was running, so it stood to reason there was somebody chasing. But how did he convince her to get into a truck with a bunch of armed strangers?

She startled, looking like she had seen… ah fuck, Ghost had hopped out of the truck and walked over.

“You know how to use a gun?” he asked her, almost casual despite the grit behind it.

She shook her head and her eyes widened as Ghost lifted his sidearm into his hands. Kyle thought perhaps his Lieutenant had lost his damn mind when he started calmly explaining the basics of the gun before stepping forward, putting it on the ground and stepping back again.

“Sergeant, back up” he ordered and Kyle reluctantly took a few steps back. “You need help and we can give it. You pick up that gun, get in the truck and if any of us touches you without your permission you point and shoot. We’re about two hours out from a military base, there’s a doctor there who can check you over, make sure the baby is ok.”

Maybe Ghost was a genius or maybe he was a maniac, but then it wasn’t the first time he had flirted with that line. Kyle watched the woman hesitantly move forward. She reminded him of a little mouse approaching a piece of cheese. When she got close enough she darted suddenly and grabbed the gun, holding it up to them. Her arms were shaking.

He was used to the sounds of a bullet firing by now, but he still felt himself jump when she fired out into the woods on the other side of them.

“Y-you actually gave me a loaded gun?” she said breathlessly, seeming almost outraged that Ghost would truly do such a thing. Kyle sympathised.

“You feel better?” Ghost answered, nodding his head to the truck where Soap was watching with rapt attention.

“...yes” the woman said before walking (although he noted it was more limping) over to the truck and letting Ghost help her in only after trying herself and realising she wouldn’t be able to hop up and keep ahold of the gun at the same time.

–

The man in the skull mask didn’t ask any questions and he seemed entirely nonplussed about the gun pointed at him as the eerily silent truck took off. The other two in the back seemed nervous and the man driving hadn’t interacted with you at all, instead keeping his attention on the road.

Skull mask made a call and his voice sounded like a shout with how quiet it was.

“I need you at Stirling Lines in 2 hours… yeah, needs to be you for this… send me the standard form and I’ll get the answers over to you… she doesn’t need delicate from me, she needs help… thanks for this, see you then.”

The one that shared a bench on your side with the mohawk looked increasingly alarmed at the conversation.

“LT…” he started, some worried warning in his tone.

The LT ignored him, looked at his phone and then looked up to you after seemingly finding what he was looking for.

“Name, gender and birth date?”

“I… what?”

“Jesus Christ LT!”

“I need to get information for the nurse I have meeting us at base” the LT said, ignoring the mohawk man’s outrage and staring at you with those unsettling eyes sunken behind the mask. “The questions are going to be invasive. The exam is going to be worse and it’s going to take hours.”

“That’s enough Lieutenant” the man driving hissed, only to be equally as ignored as the Lieutenant's eyes stayed on you.

“Get through it. Get through it to spite the bastard.”

You felt a flutter of panic try to take hold. Your adrenaline was gone so it was hard to even feel that, but he thought… they all thought you had been raped.

“It’s not… I’m married” you said by way of explanation.

The atmosphere was tense, but after you said that there was a distinct feeling of sadness coming from mohawk and Kyle, a feeling of pity. The skull mask had no such pity emanating from him.

“He told you that because you’re married you couldn’t say no. Reinforced that. It’s brainwashing and you can break that. It wasn’t marriage they used as a reason for me, but they tried to brainwash me to think I consented to it just the same. I didn’t and neither did you. Spite the bastard.”

Nobody else spoke for the next 2 hours but you and the man in the skullmask. He asked questions and you answered them. At the start you took time to answer, hesitant from the humiliation coursing through you and making you feel sick. An hour in and you had no emotions left to give, only cold answers that floated through the truck and hung in the air like the twisted body of the saviour had hung on your bedroom wall, watching and judging.

By the time the truck was pulling through to a base you felt rinsed of everything, numb. The only shred of warmth came from the hand holding yours and you could not remember exactly when the man with the mohawk had put it there.

–

“Simon…”

“It’s not like you hadn’t read my file sir.”

Price had read his file. He knew what Roba had done to this man. It didn’t make it any less jarring to hear his Lieutenant say it out loud in the back of a damn truck with a strange beaten woman and his two Sergeants who until now had no real idea of his past.

“You solid?” he asked, not wanting to push him to talk about anything he didn’t want to.

“I’m angry.”

He knew that from Simon’s record too. It had taken a while for him to be cleared after Roba because he was so angry all the time, his aggression too volatile for even the military. This whole situation was bringing up old wounds in his Lieutenant and he was lost with what to do about it.

“Lieutenant Riley” came a call from the nurse finally leaving the exam room. She had an American accent, Southern. He suspected she was probably the one who saw Simon after Roba considering that had been in Texas.

“Appreciate you coming on short notice” Simon replied with a nod of thanks.

“Consider it payback for getting me my visa. No point in mincing words, it’s bad.”

“Consider it a matter of national security” Price said.

Technically he shouldn’t be told anything about the state of the woman in that exam room without her consent, but then it would not be the first time he got around GDPR citing national security. The nurse was clearly versed in how the military worked and handed over the clipboard she was holding. Simon read along with him over his shoulder.

“Bleeding Christ. She’s 21 weeks?” he asked, shocked.

“Long term malnutrition. She wasn’t given any control over her food. They gave her enough to keep her alive, but nowhere near healthy.”

“This…” Simon started, looking at the results from the x-rays.

“Consistent with prolonged torture. Some of the breaks never healed right. She’s still healing from a fracture and some ligament tearing in the left leg, a few broken ribs and a crack in her orbital bone. She said he had been more careful with her since finding out she was pregnant.”

Price swore loudly. He saw plenty of civilian casualties. He had caused the deaths of innocent people in the pursuit of saving other innocents. He was no stranger to evil. But this wasn’t a terrorist attack. It wasn’t a hostage in a facility. The woman was just an ordinary person who was being tortured for no large cause, not for the advancement of some twisted doctrine. She was being tortured for the crime of being a wife.

“Can you keep it off record?”

He was a bit taken aback that Simon was asking that. Surely they wanted this on record? But then he followed that action to its conclusion. They found her near a community that very rich people lived in, it followed that this husband had money to spare. They would know she was missing by now and they would know the radius of where she could have reached by car or train.

The second she was admitted to a hospital as a malnourished and beaten pregnant woman she would go missing. He wouldn’t trust the police as far as he could throw them to protect a domestic abuse victim when the perpetrator was rich and powerful enough to track her down and pay them off. The military wasn’t any better. Hell he knew of monsters in his own department who would insist on taking her for a spin before handing her over.

“I’ll talk with her” he said, Simon giving him a grateful nod.

Somehow he needed to convince that woman that she was coming to the safehouse with them until they could deal with her husband along with every single one of his accomplices. They wouldn’t make it to prison.

–

You wanted so badly to sleep but the alarm in your head wouldn’t let you. You couldn’t possibly be safe. You were never safe.

The nurse had been kind in her examination. She said this was specifically what she was trained for, that you were not alone. Others had been through this and survived. Others had went on to have brilliant and bright lives while their attackers had turned into insignificant, small creatures in their memories. You still found it hard to think of your husband as your attacker. All you had known growing up was that the man of the household owned the women in it and it was his prerogative how he handled them.

You hadn’t been allowed to shower first even though you wanted to. It was strange to think that it was deemed lucky that you weren’t permitted to shower outside of your hour preparation time and that you hadn’t been given that hour since your husband had last used you for his pleasure. He knew you desperately hated having to lay with his spend inside of you. You had begged your guard to let you clean up properly before getting your ultrasound, but he had only smiled as he said no. Of course he had. He was well versed in experiencing your humiliation and your husband was well versed in creating situations for him to do so.

It was painful when she had examined you internally. She told you that it shouldn’t be, that you associated penetration with pain now so your body was seizing up making the speculum feel much worse than it normally would. She apologised, said that was something that wouldn’t happen forever once you got healthier and knew you were safe. You could hardly believe it when she told you sex wasn’t supposed to hurt for women.

You hadn’t thought you were capable of it after today, but you still cried when she did the ultrasound. There she was, still alive and well. You wanted to tell her it would be ok now, that you had done it, you had gotten away and she would be safe. But it didn’t seem real.

The exam had taken such a long time. Your clothes had been taken from you and the thin gown did nothing to make you feel less exposed. She wanted to take the bank notes stuffed into your pocket as well, promising that they would be replaced, but you had begged to keep them and she had let you. The MRI wasn’t mentioned when the nurse had first explained everything, but part way through she had asked if it would be ok for one to be taken. She made sure that you didn’t have to interact with anyone else but her which calmed you a little.

Now you were alone. She told you that she would let you gather your thoughts and then a shower and clothes could be organised.

You needed to figure out your next move. £410 wasn’t a lot of money, but it would have to be enough to get your daughter somewhere safe. You could work. Your last job had been as a waitress when you were a teenager, but you were good at cooking and cleaning and willing to learn just about anything so you were determined you would find something. You didn’t have much choice.

There was a knock at the door and you told them to come in. Your voice sounded awful, scratchy and hoarse.

It was not the nurse.

The man from the front of the car didn’t look at you unkindly, but it did not stop you from flinching as he stepped towards you. You wished you hadn’t let Kyle take the gun from you when you arrived.

He immediately stopped and showed his hands just like Kyle had on the road.

“My name is Captain John Price, the men in the truck are my team. You’ve been brave today and I know it’s been hard. I can get you a shower and some hot food, how does that sound?”

You felt yourself shrivel and shrink. A shower with him. You hated being in a shower with your husband, he always forced you to your knees. Whenever he gave you a chance to breathe it was only under the high pressure spray of the water and it made you feel like you were suffocating. He liked that.

Could you get on your knees for this man? If it was for your daughter, if it kept her safe, then yes. It wasn’t so bad was it? You had survived worse. It was just your mouth.

You stood shakily and nodded, eyes fixed on the ground as you picked up the bank notes on the side table and held them tightly in your hand.

“Where did that come from?”

“I…” you started, taking a moment to try and think of a lie before giving in to the mental exhaustion and just telling the truth. “I stole it from my guard’s wallet.”

“Atta girl.”

The praise made your ears feel hot. You had half expected to be arrested on the spot, but the man, Captain John Price, just started leading you out of the room and down the hall to the showers.

“Soap, that’s the moppet with the mohawk from the truck, volunteered some of his things. He’s a bit of a peacock, so there should be everything you need. It’s a communal shower but I’ll stand guard at the door for you so nobody will come in. You can lock the door, but if I knock I need you to answer so I can confirm you’re ok. Towels are here, clothes here. We don’t have anything for maternity so we’ve guessed on what size will fit.”

You were taken aback. He wasn’t going to be in here with you. You didn’t need to service him. Your grip tightened around the cash in your hand before loosening as you looked at it.

“Don’t even think about it. You don’t owe anyone here a damn thing. Go shower.”

With that he left. You locked the door and waited for 10 minutes to see if he would unlock it from the other side and come in. He only knocked once and when you responded that you were fine he was silent again.

Satisfied that at least you didn’t think he would come in you stripped off and finally had a shower. The hair products and shower gel left by Soap (you thought that was a funny coincidence) smelled nice, like pine and maybe a hint of something sweet. Your husband only ever let you use things with a heavy smell of roses.

The nurse had asked what you meant by preparing yourself when you mentioned that you hadn’t done so and escaped instead. She told you that you didn’t need to do that here, but then there wasn’t any of the equipment you were used to anyway. It felt luxurious in a way, to clean yourself just for yourself.

The next time Captain Price knocked and you confirmed that you were ok, he kept speaking with you.

“I would like you to come with me and my team. We are heading to a safehouse a few hours from here and it’ll be the safest place for you to recover. You would have your own room with a lock on the door.”

You were glad nobody could see the way your face screwed up in some grotesque mixture of fear, confusion and, worst of all, hope.

“I… have money. I can pay rent.”

“...ok.”

He sounded somewhat reluctant to accept that but you couldn’t not pay for this. You would constantly be waiting for one of them to collect in some other way if you didn’t give them cash.

You touched your stomach, silently asking your daughter if it was ok to trust this man. She gave a kick.

–

Johnny didn’t think he had ever seen anyone so fragile. She had fought it Price had said, but eventually their new housemate had fallen into an exhausted sleep in the passenger seat of his truck.

When they arrived it had been him who bundled her in his arms and carried her to bed. God she was so small for someone who was supposed to be halfway through a pregnancy.

He had watched her since Gaz had jumped out of that truck. She had flinched then, she had flinched when Si got out of the truck, she had flinched when Price had went into the room (he probably shouldn’t have been hiding out in the hallway watching through the open door, but he just couldn’t stop himself).

She hadn’t flinched at all when he threaded his fingers through hers in the truck. Her hand was so tiny. Too tiny, much like the rest of her.

He put her to bed in his room since the spare was a bit of a wreck and he bunked with Gaz. They could sort it all out tomorrow after he had gotten her a massive breakfast. He was shite at cooking anything but a greasy fry up but he wanted only the best for her, so he’d already fired off a message to the girl who owned the best cafe in town and asked for a priority breakfast delivery that he was going to be paying a fortune for since it was last minute and out of the ordinary.

He didn’t know this woman, but he knew intrinsically that he would.

–

You dreamt sweet dreams. A cottage made cosy. Cooking whatever meals you wanted with ingredients you grew yourself in the garden outside. The gentle pleasure of careful hands and tongues, opening you up to a new world you never thought existed, one where your pleasure was first and foremost and the press of a body into yours didn’t hurt. The give beneath your fingers when you touched your own body, fat and soft rolls that reminded you of how safe you felt, how happy and healthy you were.

And a little girl running towards a returning hero, being swept up and laughing delightedly about it.

Best of all in that wonderful dream, you didn’t flinch once.

#mhairiwrites #tf 141 x reader #well well well #look who has dissociated and written something jumbled and nonsensical in one go #I am once again asking my brain to do this with the series I am trying to finish instead of with a random completely different concept

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jeanmoreaux · 8 months

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neil going absolutely rabid teeth-baring feral murder raccoon on riko after he threatens to sabotage andrew’s recovery in easthaven is something that can actually be so personal

#he also very much wants so rip his head off for orchestrating the drake thing but like. that threat is literally the breaking point for neil #can you tell who is rereading aftg and actively losing brain cells over it?#wrong answers only #aftg #andreil #neil josten #he is my son i love him with every cell of my being.#mish reads aftg #or rereads more like

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wintfleur · 3 months

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thinking about Daryl Dixon dating a book worm girly . . . they would meet on the Greene farm. She was a good friend of Hershel’s son Shawn, and stayed and lived with the family when the outbreak started. She would spend most of her time with Hershel and Beth or with her face in a book . . . she would like to be alone a lot, having her own spot on the farm away from the house where she could peacefully read and not have to worry about interacting with anyone, a spot that used to be her and Shawn’s . . . also a spot where Daryl decides to set up his own small camp away from everyone . . . well everyone but her. He would be hesitant at first to approach her when he gets back from another search for Sofia, seeing her leaning up against a tree with a thick book in her lap. He’d seen her around a few times in the short amount of time he’s been at the farm, only with Beth or Hershel. He’d ask her what she wants, assuming that she was waiting for him. She’d apologize, saying that she just wanted to be away from everyone, and surprising the both of them he said with a grunt she could stay as long as she didn’t touch his shit or start reading aloud. And for the first time he sees a small smile on her lips . . . but it was quickly covered when she lifted her book up from her lap.

Time-skip to after the farm falls and before they find the prison. They would become closer . . . well as close as two antisocial and closed off people could get. It was more like they found comfort in each other’s silent presence. She was so good at being quiet and finding her way around in the woods that she would often join daryl tracking/hunting. The first time daryl sees her smile since the farm is when he gives her a book he found in the trunk of an abandoned car. Since she couldn’t carry a bunch of books since they were traveling, every time she was done with a book he’d try and search for another to switch it with . . . would let her quietly mumble about the book she was reading when she couldn’t sleep and he was on watch. Would walk next to her as she walks n reads, making sure she wouldn’t trip.

When they make it to the prison, he’d bring her back multiple books whenever he goes out looking for supplies, and over time the small desk she had in her cell was cluttered with books . . . all from daryl. He would let her ramble about her books whenever they were on watch in the watch tower, him standing up and looking out while she comfortably sat on the floor with her book. He’d realize his feelings for her at the strange and unfamiliar feeling he felt in his chest as he watched her read a book to Carl and Beth who was holding Judith.

Time-skip to when they are now together, he would come back late from his shift at the look out tower in the prison and would check on her in there cell, expecting to see her sleeping since it was late . . . Instead she was curled up in her bed, technically now there bed, reading with a lit candle next to her. Not wanting to sleep without him by her side . . . and wanting to also finish another chapter. Whenever daryl would wake up from a nightmare she would quietly read to him, taking him out of his tortured mind and into the lovely world of her book. Whenever she was too focused on a book he’d surprise her with a kiss on her cheek or lips . . . completely stealing her attention. All she would have to do is bat her eyelashes and say please and daryl would fold . . . reading to her when she’s to tired to read herself, she feels so safe and warm when she’s in his arms as she listens to him read to her . . . he always kisses her forehead when he notices she fell asleep, tucking her bookmark a few pages back, knowing that she probably wouldn’t remember the last few pages he read to her.

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( take this as my application to write for twd !!! I wrote this in 20 minutes at 1am, soo it’s probably not the best I just couldn’t sleep without getting this written down. Please let me know if I should continue writing for twd . . . I’m currently rewatching the show and my love for daryl just grows stronger !!! Again please let me know what you guys think, don’t be a silent reader <333 )

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dreadsuitsamus · 3 months

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nsfw, fem!reader, breeding and ozai being ozai

Guarding the former Fire Lord, even with his inability to bend anymore, is daunting. Though a prisoner, Ozai is still intimidating and dangerous, those muscles not simply for display. There aren't many guards willing to take on the task of keeping a watchful eye on him for even a single shift, let alone during all of their working hours. Your bravery and resilience is rewarded with handsome payment, though by now, you'd do it for free! There are certain... benefits that have come with your position.

"Ah, ah— Mm! My Lord, oh, yes...!" You throw your head back onto Ozai's pillows, his time spent as a political advisor to his son having offered him a nicer cell than a typical prisoner would have, thanks to the leverage he still holds over the young man. Ozai has your limber legs spread wide against the mattress, your toes touching the headboard as the man above you plows into you with vigor, his cock reaching places inside of you that you never knew existed before fate brought you directly to him.

Ozai hisses, his grip tightening around your ankles. "That's it... Take it. Take my cock, my power, my all. You'll give me a new heir, one that will be perfect, one that won't fail me like the others! You'll do this for your King, without fail!" He spits out, the excited luster of his ideals getting him off as much as the way your slickened walls grip his shaft and beg to be filled once again, as he has every night for several months now. Whether you're on duty or sneaking into his chamber, you take your Lord's seed and humbly await the night you'll fall pregnant and kick his plans into gear. He cannot bend fire anymore, but his theory rests on your firebending abilities and his genetics to create a child that can bend, and be the very best.

Zuko was a failure from the very beginning, and Azula's demise must surely stem from her mother, a woman never loyal to the Fire Nation and Ozai himself. This heir will be the one to make him proud.

"Breed me, my Lord! It is my duty, my destiny to bear your child! Together, we shall restore your honor, your legacy, with our children."

Ozai's grin is maniacal, his laugh sinister as he lowers himself to speak directly into your ear. "You're getting ahead of yourself, aren't you? You've yet to give me one heir, let alone multiple!"

"The solstice is nearly upon us." You pant, a mewling whimper breaking your concentration as your Lord twists your nipples that will one day feed his child and help him to become strong.

"And...?" Ozai's strong fingers squeeze the sensitive buds harder, grinning at how pleasurable you find his pain to be.

"T-There will be no better time to fall pregnant, my King. Our child will be strong, guided by the stars to take back what is yours!"

"Oh, really? So do you suggest I'm wasting my time now then?" Ozai begins to pull away, only slipping out a mere fraction of his slick-coated dick before your fingers, small and soft and so breakable like the rest of you, are threading into his hair. Amused, Ozai pauses with a raised brow and cocky smirk on his lips. "What's this, hm?"

"My Lord— My love." You breathe out, sneaky legs snaking around his trim waist to summon him back into his fully-seated position. "Please..."

"Please what?" He hisses, those strong arms slipping around your waist tightly in what's nearly a darling embrace, though he still remains only partially inside of your cunt. "Are you simply here tonight as my whore?"

"For you, I am anything." Your chest heaves, beads of sweat prickling you from head to toe. "The mother of your proper heir, the one that sees to your exemplary care... Your courtesan, your lover... Your wife, if you'd have me."

Ozai's large hand, one you'd still not fear even with his power intact, comes to rest at the side of your face. "Provide me a firstborn son that can firebend, and then we'll discuss a permanent relationship."

Your much smaller hand covers his, hopeful tears welling in your eyes. "I won't let you down, Phoenix King Ozai."

"See to it that you don't." Ozai's lips capture yours in a rare kiss, and he again rocks his hips to yours, soon filling you to the brim with seed that takes, settling deep into your womb to create the child that will swell your belly with his pride.

#ozai x reader #fire lord ozai x reader #ozai x you #fire lord ozai x you #atla ozai #x reader #reader insert #fic #something i thought up that wouldn't go away!#ngl i'd let him breed me

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m-jelly · 29 days

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Levi loves it when it's bath time with his son. Before he became a father, bath time was a way he relaxed and spent a romantic moment with you. After his son was born, he took care of bath time so you could relax. He encouraged you to relax because you always did so much for him and your darling son.

So, tonight was bath time and he was going to share the bath with his darling son, Evan, while you were making the last snacks of the night before bed. The tub was a perfect heat with Evan's usual toys in.

Levi sat behind his son as he washed his hair and talked about the smallest things. Each chat and story was fun and made Evan giggle. Evan adored both of you so much and he was always full of happiness and joy.

Once Evan was cleaned up, Levi cleaned himself quickly. He lifted his son up and out of the bath before joining him. It was clear Evan was full of energy, so Levi needed to act fast to dry his son off and change him. He wrapped a towel around his hips first and then grabbed Evan's fun towel with little rabbits all over.

As soon as Levi turned around he saw his son's back and little butt disappear out of view. Evan raced out of the bathroom giggling away. It took Levi a few beats to register what had happened, but then he kicked into action and sprinted after his son.

You hummed a little song to yourself as you checked your freshly baked chocolate-filled croissants. You were happy they were cooled down enough for your husband and son to enjoy. A little giggling getting closer caught your attention because it was getting louder and closer.

When the giggles grew very close, you turned around to see your three-year-old son running butt naked through the living room as he laughed. You gasped when your husband soon followed with a towel wrapped around his hips, his muscles shining with the last bits of bath water on him. Every muscle was divine in your eyes and his wet hair hung in his eyes a little.

You gripped your chest as a mix of emotions filled you. You were excited at seeing your husband almost naked running around, but at the same time, it was incredibly funny and sweet that your son was making a break for it.

You started laughing at the sight. "My goodness."

Levi scooped up his son making Evan squeal with laughter. "We've got an escaped convict! A criminal known as Evan Ackerman ran away from the scene of the crime!" He held Evan upside down. "Criminal has now been apprehended!"

Evan laughed hard. "Daddyyyy"

You walked over to the pair. "What's his crime?"

Levi hugged Evan close. "Being too cute."

Evan giggled. "Hi, mama!"

You waved at him. "Hi, my little bunny. So, you're a little criminal, huh?"

"Yes!"

Levi hummed. "He learned his powerful cuteness ability from the greatest cute criminal in the world."

You smirked. "Oh yeah."

He walked up to you and kissed you. "You. I've got my eye on you, Mrs Ackerman."

Evan patted your cheek. "Pretty mama."

You kissed his cheek. "Thank you."

Levi put Evan over his shoulder causing him to laugh. "I'm going to take this criminal away. If you're good, Evan, you can get a tasty reward."

You hummed a laugh. "He's right, I made chocolate croissants."

Evan cheered. "Thank you, mama!"

Levi pointed at you. "I'll give you your tasty reward later tonight when this criminal is in his cell for the night." He winked at you. "Prepare yourself."

You felt a shiver run through. "Y-Yes!"

Levi carried his son back and changed him quickly into his favourite PJs. As soon as Evan was dressed, Levi handed him his favourite cuddly bunny. Levi cleaned the bath with Evan following him around. Once everything was cleaned, Levi pulled on his PJs and carried his son back to you in the living room.

You snuggled up to your husband on the sofa and began kissing his neck. "You're such a wonderful father to him."

Levi massaged the inside of your thigh. "Thank you. I just try and have fun with him." He gazed at you. "You're an incredible mother."

You felt yourself flush. "Thank you." You kissed him and hummed. You smiled when you heard Evan giggling. "Levi, I think the criminal is watching."

Levi looked over at Evan standing there with his croissant in his little hands. "You're right. The criminal is back!"

Evan squealed with laughter and ran away. "Can't catch me!"

Levi ran after him. "I will!"

#levi ackerman #levi #dad!levi #dad levi #dadvi #aot levi #snk levi #aot fanfiction #levi x you #levi x y/n #fanfic #levi fanfiction #levi x reader #levi x yn #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n

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sc0tters · 10 months

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Addicted | Luke Hughes

summary: when Alex and Trevor decide to voice their feelings about you it causing Luke to reevaluate his own.

song: Kiss Me - Ed Sheeran

request: yes/no

warnings: mention of underaged drinking, slight bit of swearing.

word count: 2.03k

authors note: this song has been calling my name since I put it on the playlist, and let me just saw that I’m not upset in the slightest. This picture of Luke made me laugh so much that I had to put it in. If you want to check out the rest of the celly you can do so here!

Luke had been in love with you for years.

Thoughts of you consumed his mind from the moment he woke up until the moment he went to sleep. His heart rate would increase and his palms would grow sweaty as he watched you run across campus before you’d tackle him into a bear hug even though you saw him the day before. Every time you were in a more revealing outfit he’d stumble on his words like he had never spoken English before. Every year it was like half of his brain cells never made it to the lake house as all he could do was watch in awe as you’d walk around in shorts and your bikini tops.

But it was fine because you felt the same way as Luke.

The first time you realised this was after a ballet recital of yours when you were six and somehow Ellen convinced all three of her sons to come and Luke said that your tutu was pretty on you.

It like your whole world combusted in that moment as your semi toothless grin joined the conversation “you think so pookie?”

“I know so sparky.” Luke was never one to shy away from complimenting you and it made you swear he only did it to screw with you. The way your cheeks turned crimson red as you’d chew as the inside of your cheeks trying to hold in the inevitable squeal of joy at the compliment.

All of the scales seemed to increase when you went off to college, your friendship grew stronger as you remained his number one supporter, your love for him grew deeper as his eyes never left you at parties because other girls were never what he wanted. Clearly since everyone else could see this you would should have as well, right?

Wrong.

Totally absolutely positively wrong.

His love for you could have been written in big pieces of card in front of your face and it might as well have been like you were reading another language because you wouldn’t have believed it. The same thing went for Luke, every guy you turned down never made him feel more confident. In fact it usually made him feel worse.

You had the most athletic players flirting with you, the start football and baseball players all weren’t good enough for you. So what was to say that some hockey player would be what you wanted?

Luke was usually a confident man, he got that from being around Jack that it became a learnt trait. Yet you seemed to make him feel like a normal kid again. There was no need for the title of being drafted, or for his family name. To you he was just Luke or your pookie and it slowly ate up at him.

Just like every other year July meant it was lake house time. It was the third day of the trip and it was hotter than ever, literally the sun was scorching and you were out soaking it all up. Your bikini was the smallest one in your closet and it avoid the tan lines your top string was undone as your stomach lay on your towel.

Luke had been enjoying the sight he really was, your feet occasionally bounced as you had your favourite songs blaring through your AirPods and it was a sight that made his mouth water.

But when Trevor and Alex walked back in from the porch and started talking about you it caused the youngest Hughes boys mood to turn for the worse.

Trevor shook his head as he grabbed a drink from the fridge “I don’t know how you haven’t made a move yet Hughesy,” he confessed as he cracked the cap of the bottle open.

Alex nodded in agreement “huh?” Luke furrowed his eyebrows as he knew that they were talking about you.

The Ducks player smiled “y/n is out of this world,” he pointed out as none of the older boys were stupid, you were a pretty girl and they all knew it.

Except Trevor was the only one who ever let you know about it, the constant flirting that came from his lips during this lake house trip. It seemed you being over the age of eighteen let you move away from the title of only being Luke’s friend.

Words of warning wanting to tell Trevor to fuck off were desperate to leave Luke’s mouth yet they couldn’t as you walked into the living room.

An oblivious smile formed on your face “what are y’all talking about?” You asked as you reached into the fridge to grab the container of cut up mango that you had made earlier that morning.

Trevor let his outstretched hand reach into the container as he took a piece “just about going for a ride on the boat later,” he lied as his eyes never left your mouth as some of the fruit juice dribbled down your chin landing on your bikini top “hope there is room for me on that boat,” there always was room for you but you were enjoying flirting with Trevor.

Sure you weren’t attracted to him like that but he certainly wasn’t harsh on your eyes “for you sparky? Always.” The nickname was one that you had picked up when you were five, you learnt what electric currents were when you found two wires in Quinn’s room and decided to place them together. The eldest Hughes couldn’t help but laugh when he walked in to see how your eyes lit up like you were in a candy store.

Luke scrunched his nose at the smile you sent the ducks player as you continued you eat your mango but when you pushed your hair behind your ears letting your chest now be on full display the Hughes boy could no longer take it “put this on,” he mumbled as he held out his baseball jersey.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked white fabric “okay?” You shrugged as you took the Tigers home jersey and slotted your arms into it.

But that didn’t seem to be enough for Luke as he came over to you and began to button the buttons up “Luke!” You groaned saying exactly what Alex and Trevor were thinking as they sent the boy a glare “perfect,” Luke smiled as he softly pulled your hair out of the jersey letting it lay flat behind your back.

His dagger eyes were sent to both Alex and Trevor the entire day, even on the boat when Quinn was teaching you to drive it and even when you were on Luke’s lap.

“Am I missing something?”

Your question pulled Luke out of his thoughts as he looked at you “what?” He asked as he let his fingers draw over your leg.

It irritated you as you could see that something seemed to be going on between Luke and the two older boys “you seem mad at them,” you sighed as your lips formed into a pout.

Sure it might have been childish to be upset but Luke usually told you everything “it’s nothing,” he shook his head causing your fingers to grip at your can of seltzer.

Yet your pokes didn’t go quiet like he’d hoped “Luke-” your soft words were only met with a glare “just drop it okay?” His complaint was only met with your wide eyes.

Thankfully at that time you were in need of a new drink. So you got up to get yourself a refill.

The boys watched in amusement as you walked back into the house “you really fucked that one up Lukey,” Trevor teased only adding to the boys anger.

Luke clenched his fist “you need to shut the fuck up dude!” He warned as he got up as he pointed his finger at the older boy.

It seemed like this was all bubbling up over today “just go ahead all to her,” Quinn’s voice was soft as he knew that you were on his brothers mind.

The youngest Hughes boy took a large gulp as he remembered that he had lashed out at you first.

Your head remained in the fridge as you looked at the different options for drinks.

The cool air on your face made you grow calm. It was soothing as you tried to not cry, you knew you were overreacting but all of Luke’s actions today seemed to weigh up on you in this never ending battle that you had created based on the feelings you felt towards the boy. Your thoughts were pulled away from your brain as the sound of the glass sliding door shut.

You turned around and was already faced with Luke “Jesus Christ!” You cursed as you clenched your chest.

Luke’s face softened as he looked at you “sorry,” he apologised as he crossed his arms.

He wanted to reach out to hug you “why are you so mad at them?” You asked as you watched the hockey player pick at the bracelet on his wrist.

All of the explanations that went through his mind all didn’t sound valid “it’s stupid,” that was the honest truth, he knew he was over reacting but that didn’t make it any less irritating to deal with.

You scoffed as you sat on the counter “that never stopped you from telling me,” you pointed out as most nights were spent with Luke in your bed laying his bed on your chest as you combed your fingers through his hair.

The way your lips were plump and your cheeks were tinted with a hint of red from the sun that had landed on in them made you look so very kissable.

But Luke remained stood where he was “they think you’re hot,” he explained with his voice barely a whisper as though he was ashamed to admit to it.

Your laugh made him feel better “do they now?” It was a clear stroke to your ego as you watched the boy grow embarrassed.

It shouldn’t have been nearly as amusing as it was “you thinking I’ve got a new best friend to get?” You joked causing him to furrow his eyebrows with annoyance.

Luke situated himself between your legs “‘ts not funny,” he mumbled as he rested his head on your shoulder.

A smile found its way onto your face “it’s pretty funny,” you nodded as you hooked your fingers under his jaw forcing him to look at you.

Your eyes were soft as they studied every feature on his face as though it was the first time you’d seen his face “it doesn’t matter if they think I’m hot,” you explained as you watched his face grow confused “only matter if it comes from a guy who hasn’t even said it.�� You added as your tongue darted between your lips.

The hockey remained as clueless as ever when you let your thumb run along his jaw “who?” He was almost asking because he needed to finally hear that dose of reality of who it was that went through you mind in the way you went through his.

A moment of silence was heard so loud that a penny dropping wouldn’t even be noticed “looking right at him.” You confessed causing his eyes to widen.

It was like he was at a crossroads as the ball was now in his court. Truly nothing went through his mind as he was desperate to find the right course of action. The girl he had loved for all of these years, the girl he had longed for to be more than just friends, the girl was you and here you were with all of your cards out waiting for him.

Yet there he was frozen in time.

Again it seemed like it was your turn once more. So you leaned forward as you kissed him, it was brain meltingly perfect. Like that moment you do something that feels so good it makes your brain all hazy, like that.

Luke pulled away with his smile as his finger ran over your lips “what’s got you all smiley?” You asked as you cocked your head.

“I got the girl of my dreams.”

#luke hughes x reader #ambers 150 celly #luke hughes x you #luke hughes imagines #luke hughes oneshot #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl oneshot #imagines #oneshots #amber writes fics

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killakirby · 1 year

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‧͙⁺˚･༓☾　late night flying　☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

notifications ☽︎: feelings of inadequacy, stress, near death experiences, na'vi body descriptions, fem!na'vi!reader, sully's being teases

developer's notes ☽︎: hey i did say it would be out around this time :/ i'm doing my best. first work on tumblr since like 2016 be kind i'm supplying my thirst. i was just checking the word count to paste it here, and i genuinely thought lo'ak's was shorter than neteyam's, i was wrong 💀 prepare yourself, it's a novel lmao and yes this is a reminder that i consider these drabbles. also if you find yourself loving this work send me an ask for a request and i'd be thrilled to fulfill it!

much love, <3 kirby !!!

⋆☾ NETEYAM SULLY - 1.8k words

it’s difficult for neteyam to have the time and energy to be an impulsive and disobedient kid like his brother. he spends most of his time shadowing his parents learning how to lead or chasing after his younger siblings and making sure that in their shenanigans they don’t get hurt. so, most of the time he’s only disobedient when he’s making sure his siblings are safe, which is honorable and cute. neteyam is also disobedient when he finds himself wanting to spend more time with you.

the fifteen years neteyam has been living, he’s constantly had people tell him that he’s a perfect son. that he’s smart, compassionate, strong; that he's going to be a great warrior–and a great olo’eyktan. however, he hasn’t heard that he’s the perfect son from his parents, but he doesn't have to hear it to know that they’re thinking it. he sees in how they scold lo’ak after another stupid stunt he pulled, “why can’t you try to be more careful? or, better yet, less reckless?” his dad would ask. neteyam knows the only thing lo’ak heard is, “why can’t you be more like your brother?” and it’s starting to be the only thing neteyam hears too. when he was younger he probably wouldn’t care so much about the jealous and now defeated looks lo’ak throws his way, but recently, neteyam is feeling every molecule of pressure from the village, his siblings, and his parents to continue being perfect. it doesn’t help that lo’ak has seemed to become resigned in his role of irresponsible-impulsive-brother, too, it only magnifies the pressure on neteyam to be better.

spider, lo’ak, kiri (and even tuk!), tease him for being a “goody-two shoes,” an english phrase their father had taught them. and today neteyam has had enough of hearing it. he woke up early with his father to prepare their ikran for patrol, sparred with him for hours, had his bow and flight technique nitpicked by his mother, and now he has to supervise his siblings scaling the mountains to make sure they don’t die exploring without the permission of their parents. and when they all tease him for being a “goody-two shoes,” for not wanting to venture further, he snaps. neteyam hisses and stalks his way over to the edge of the mountain, “whatever. go ahead and get involved in some dangerously stupid situation that you can’t get yourself out of and when i’m not there to save you, like i always am, have fun calling mom and dad to save your ass! and i’ll make sure to be back to enjoy seeing your dumbassess getting yelled at for your lack of brain cells, as usual.”

he calls his ikran, initiates the bond, ignores the calls apologizing and telling him to stop, and takes off into the sky. neteyam flies for what feels like minutes to him–feels the wind cascade through his braids, the cool air rushing across his skin, the sun battling the breeze to warm him, the complete understanding between him and his ikran, not needing to a single word or thought to guide. as he’s gliding through a spattering of small mountains and makes out your form and ikran ground atop of one, his curiosity gets the best of him this time, and he lands next to you.

you’re on the ground leaning against the body of your ikran, it’s wing shielding you from the strong rays of the sun, keeping you cool. the freckles on your smooth blue-toned skin are glowing a soft white under the shade of the wing, a false replication of night. your legs are comfortably stretched-out and crossed in front of you, along with your arms crossed over your chest, your head and back resting on the warm ikran. as neteyam walks closer he sees your chest rising and falling slowly, eyes gently shut, and a look of bliss on your face. he sighs, relieved, greets your ikran with a bow of his head, and gets a welcoming coo of acknowledgment and a head shake in return, jostling your body and causing you to rouse.

a soft groan leaves your lips, ears and tail flicking in displeasure, before your eyes flutter open and drowsily make contact with his own. you blink a few times, making a small sound of confusion, “huh?”, and your hands come up to rub at your eyes, as if seeing him here is a figment of your imagination. neteyam smiles, a warm laugh escaping him, amused by how adorable you are, even though he disturbed you from your little nap. his amusement lets you know he is in fact real, his laugh awakens the butterflies in your stomach, and your tail hides in embarrassment at being caught hiding (by him, of all people) away from everyone else, as your cheeks darken into an indigo-tinted blush.

you shyly make an effort at eye contact and fail as you try to explain your situation to him. “i was just–”, he waves off your voice and states with a small smirk, “no need to explain yourself, it’s not like you’re in trouble with me.” you shrug, muttering a few deprecating words to yourself and are about to stand, when neteyam sits next you. he pulls his knees to his chest, arms wrapped around himself, chin resting on his knees, sighing deeply, eyes fixed ahead on the skyscape, his strikingly handsome faced furrowed with anger? stress? hopelessness?

your eyes widen, shocked at how small he manages to look. it’s incredibly rare that he allows anybody to see him this vulnerable; he’s usually impeccably composed–attractively confident and sure of himself–but the idea that he’s allowing you to see him like this is a privilege you will not take advantage of. you scooch closer to him and place a gentle hand on his shoulder and softly ask, “are you feeling okay?” there’s silence for a while before his lips parted and shut, hesitating, before he shook his head, so faintly it was almost unnoticeable. you nodded, “ do you want to talk about it?” and received a verbal response this time, “no.” with a light rasp to his voice. with another nod, you delicately squeeze his shoulder and offer comfort, “then we will not talk about it. but, if you ever find yourself needing someone to talk to, you can always come to me. the circumstances do not matter. if you want advice, i’ll do my best to advise. if you want me to simply listen, my ears will be open. if you want to sit in silence, ill sit silently with you so you are not alone.”

neteyam turns to you in disbelief at the sincerity within your words, and surprises himself with how close you are, faces only inches apart. your eyes widen and you lean back a little bit, hand slipping off his shoulder, but the earnest look in your gaze remains, trying to gauge his response to your pledge. neteyam shakes his head at you, a happy scoff escapes his lips, and he calls you stupid for resigning yourself to a one-sided promise. you put your hands on your hips and tilt your head at him, not falling for the insult. “all that matters to me is that you have someone to speak your true feelings to and not allow them to eat at you from the inside out.” neteyam observes the seriousness in your eyes, the way your ears are turned towards him, the way tension coils in your tail, the way your eyes shift from his to the ground as if you’re just now considering the possibility that he may reject your offer.

neteyam stands, and nods affirmatively, tail flicking, “okay. i do not wish to talk about it. but now as my newly designated comfort person, you have to fly with me.” he offers you his hand, and gently raises you to your feet. you giggle at him, head tilted up to meet his eyes, “there has to be a better title besides ‘comfort person’ but i’ll take it! uh…are you going to let go of my hand so we can get flying?” neteyam drops your hand, and scratches at his head, now it’s his turn for his cheeks to turn indigo. you mount your ikran, and call down to him with a smirk on your face, “trying to race?” neteyam laughs at you, goading, “when i win, don’t hurt yourself trying to eat my dust!” you kick-off getting a head start, and neteyam is quick to mount his ikran and follow you into the sky.

the challenge you had set began with adrenaline-pumped blood, heavy breathing, sharp turns, dives and peaks, free-falling, frivolous chasing after one other, the lead switching between the two of you often, screams of glee and awe when one of you pulled off an unreal maneuver–and turned into cruising instead of racing. eclipse had long since passed, somehow going unnoticed by you and surprisingly, neteyam. your gliding had turned into intertwining flight paths–swirling, flipping, mixing, turning, all synchronized as if it were a dance you two had practiced many times before. neteyam finds himself distracted from guiding his ikran, as his whole thought process becomes consumed with the image of you.

the bioluminescent freckles twinkling on your face in an unknown pattern, and he wonders if his match yours. the way you let your eyes drift shut, how your head is tilted back, how your arms raise and spread into the air as your ikran coasts through a flip in the air. a soft smile remains constant on your lips as you fly, and grows larger when you open your eyes again and turn to him. you pick up speed to overtake him, and set the path through a few cliff sides, while neteyam raises his hand to his face and realizes that he’s been grinning like a madman the whole time he’s been with you. when you two escape the maze of terrain, he coasts right next to you and sees the moonlight hit your lithe body at the perfect angle and allows himself to accept the fact that he’s falling in love with you. and then his heart drops into his stomach, his ikran shrieks and comes to a sudden stop, wings flapping frantically to remain in the same space– sending you and your ikran into a panic, as you quickly turn back to him, and worriedly question him, scared at the paled look on his face.

neteyam buries his face into his hands and silences your bewilderment by pulling a hand from his face and pointing into the sky, finally bringing your awareness to you guys messing around way past eclipse. you eyes widen and your mouth drops open, a groan of despair escaping you, and you look at neteyam, and both of you say,

“we’re so dead.”

and as you two start to race home, debating whether or not to lie about how you guys ended up losing track of time this badly, neteyam can’t help but think that any punishment he receives from his mom and dad wouldn’t matter, in light of the discovery he made today. the fact that he’s falling in love with you, and the fact that he doesn’t want to do anything to stop it.

⋆☾ LO'AK SULLY - 2k words

lo’ak’s just finished being scolded by not only his mother and his father, but also his grandmother after his latest stunt of nearly killing his younger sister, tuk, unintentionally of course. how was he supposed to know that she was going to sneeze and fall off the vines connecting the mountains plummeting to the ground only to be saved by neteyam on his ikran…again. in his anger of being banned from patrolling and flying for two weeks he sulks into the jungle and comes across you.

lo’ak retreats into the jungle after being dismissed by his father, angered and simultaneously exhausted. it’s like his parents think that he purposely tried to kill his little sister–why would he want that?? and at the bare minimum, why don’t they scold tuk for tagging along and blackmailing him all the time? “if you don’t take me, i’m going to tell” she’d singsong at him. even though he’s breaking rules anyway, they should at least tell tuk not to partake in it with him.

he wasn’t even planning on getting in trouble today! tomorrow,he was supposed to join his parents and neteyam on checking the borders of their land, and he just wanted to share the news with his ikran. so when tuk wanted to come along to see the ikrans, he thought nothing could possibly go wrong, they’re all grouped next to their main dwelling in the mountains. he helped tuk climb to the top, and they both greeted the flock and made their way to his mount. he bring his hand to his forehead and gestures towards the animal, and tuk does the same. the ikran leans towards tuk and snorts at her gently blowing stray grass on to her face. she shrieks and giggles freely–happily, and lo’ak gently laughs at them as he bring his hand to pet the playful animal.

tuk mimics her older brother and gently pats the ikran on the snout a few times before she becomes distracted at the others milling around uninterestedly. she goes off to examine a few juvenile ikrans and lo’ak prods her, “hey! make sure to stay where i can see and hear you!” tuk nods vigorously and begins to play with the babies. lo’ak watches over her quietly for a few minutes, trying to determine whether or not any of the birds are going to try and swallow her whole, and nods acceptingly after witnessing the mature ikrans grumble and waddle away from her instead of attacking her.

with his sister’s safety secured he turns around to face his ikran (his ears still pinned in her direction) and forms the tsaheylu with his ride–amber pupils blown wide as the bond is initiated. lo’ak loses himself in his thoughts, illustrating them for the animal, and is only shaken from it when he hears his sister sneeze, which is quickly followed by a bone-chilling shriek. his body snaps around so quickly that his braid rips from the bond, and he see his little sister fall in what seems like slow-motion. lo’ak screams her name as she falls over the edge, and instinctively reconnects with his ikran and flies over the edge to try and catch her. he’s diving straight down, gaining on her but not quickly enough for the panic and fear to subside in his chest. he’s reaching out– his hand a few feet apart from tuk’s, and he misses the first grab, the second grab, and then her body is snatched out freefall and into neteyam’s arms.

lo’ak levels out and speeds towards them, tuk clinging onto their brother–head buried into his chest, sobs wracking her tiny form. neteyam’s hand cradles her head, and he turns to lo’ak ready to yell at him, but the expression on his younger brother’s face stops him. there’s fear in his eyes, tears running down his cheeks and he keeps trying to wipe them away but he can’t seem to stop himself from crying. neteyam smoothly guides his ikran right next to lo’ak and gently detaches tuk from his body and into his brother’s who hesitantly accepts her onto his saddle. she clings on to him crying erratically, broken “sorry’s” falling from her mouth in between sobs, and even as lo’ak comforts her pulling her close and rubbing his hand down her back in a soothing manner, the look in his eyes betrays him; that’s he's feels undeserving of her apologies. neteyam gently rubs lo’ak on the back, and does nothing besides giving him an understanding nod, and coasts in front of him to lead them home.

“my parents only heard the fact that tuk fell, and not the fact that i feel like shit for letting that happen to her!! it’s like they genuinely think that im putting her in dangerous situations on purpose! like i find some sort of satisfaction in it! i’m not a psychopath, i’m her brother! i care about her safety more than my own! i’d literally die for tuk!” he rants to you. he stumbled across you sitting on a river bank sharpening your knife, and as soon as you saw him you cringed at his expression and asked a simple, “you going to tell me what happened this time?” and now hear you are, listening to lo’ak repeat the same argument against his parents’ for what had to be hours. you glance at the sky and see the sun beginning to bridge the horizon, eclipse will fall upon you two soon.

for the first time you interrupt and ask, “did you tell your parents that?” lo’ak throws his hands up in the air and begins pacing back and forth exasperatedly claiming, “i tried!! multiple times! and they just spoke over me–they didn’t want to hear it! even neteyam came to my defense trying to explain for me, and they dismissed his words too!!” your eyes widened as you said perplexed, “they ignored what neteyam had to say?” lo’ak screamed, “yes!” in complete disbelief.

“and now you’re banned from flying,” you clarify.

“yes!”

“and patrolling.”

“yes!!”

you nodded at him, “well it could be a lot worse—”

“what??! what do you mean a lot worse?! this is terrible!” he cried out.

“they could’ve banned you from flying forever,” you smirked at him.

he sighs, a petty little “not funny” escaping from him, and you laugh, letting him know that you thought your joke was funny enough. you watch him continue to pace, his body language still unsettled (you just can’t determine if it’s from his punishment, or not being enough to save his sister), his fingers rake through his braids tugging and pulling at his scalp frustratedly, and you’ve had enough when you see the deep blue skin on his hands start to lighten with the force and grasp he has on his hair. you intercept his path, place an unyielding hand on his chest holding him in place, and with a firm look on your face you demand, “stop tugging at your hair like that. you’ve spent so much time growing these pretty braids it would be a shame to see you rip them out of your own skull.”

lo’ak freezes, eyes wide and locked onto yours, as he releases his braids and his arms fall limp at his sides. he’s not sure if he stopped because he was listening to your instructions, or if because he short-circuited when you called him pretty (okay, you called his braids pretty–it’s a miniscule difference). you state confidently, “if you are not allowed to fly for the next two weeks, that does not mean that i am not allowed fly. which means that you are allowed to fly with me.” lo’ak balks at your bold statement, “uh…” hesitantly calling out to you as you step away from him (your hand just now falling from his chest, yes he noticed) and summon your ikran. he goes, “uhhhh, no! nope! i do not think that is what that means at all!” you climb onto your saddle, and plead, “lo’ak, please let me try to make you feel better. they won’t be wondering where you are until eclipse, and we only have a couple hours left before we lose daylight. fly with me one last time until you really can’t?”

he shifts his weight, battling with himself before he sighs and allows you to help him onto the back of the saddle, “alright, but only until eclipse, okay?” you cheer, and commence a quick take off, causing lo’ak to shout and hurriedly wrap his arms around your waist, and how is this the first time he’s noticed how small you are compared to him. you continue to direct your ikran upwards and into the clouds bringing him further away from his troubles on the ground.

your waist is enveloped completely by just one of his arms, and in order to make the ride more comfortable he pulls his hands backwards and just grasps carefully at the sides of your waist instead, his fingers almost close enough to touch across your stomach. it seems you’ve just become aware of the situation and he feels your breath catch, and stomach tense, but you say nothing, content to avoid addressing it and let him handle it. he sees the deeper shade to your cheeks and smiles boyishly and he knows that you know that he’s cheesing at you, but you refuse to acknowledge his amusement, keeping your eyes fixed forward but the blush becomes noticeable on your ears, and begins to spread to your chest, and he can’t stop himself from audibly laughing. in retaliation, you command your ikran into a sharp flip, and lo’ak’s gasp interrupts his laughter, and he tightens his grasp on your waist to stop himself from sliding.

when you level out it appears that night has finally overtaken day, but the both of you are too busy squealing internally at the fact that his agile, strong, trained, veiny hands are gripping your waist. the bioluminesce begins to sparkle over your body, and he merely leans back to get a better look at you. you turn to look at him and see a soft smile on his face, his eyes overflowing with feelings he has yet to speak with you about; and nevertheless, you understand completely, and you’re sure it’s reflected at him in your own gaze. you shyly face frontwards again, recognizing that you embarrassed yourself enough around him today with bold words and touches, but lo’ak does not let you hide for long. he scoots forward completely, no longer worried about maintaining the space between you. his chest envelopes your back and he leans forward to gently place a fleeting kiss on your cheek, your breath catches again. instead of teasing you as before, he pulls back–dropping one hand to the body of your ikran and allows the other to wrap across you more firmly, his hand pressing against your abdomen encouraging you to rest against him, and you breathe deeply, allowing yourself to be embraced. his chin goes to rest on your head, and you allow your ikran to guide you home, fully at ease in lo’ak’s arms.

lo’ak gently offers, “let’s spend a little more time out here. just you and me, together.” you begin to half-heartedly reject, reminding him of the circumstances of his punishment and curfew. he waves you off, “it does not matter, you said it yourself. they can’t ban me from flying forever, what’s another week of grounding to the two i have already?” you twist to make sure of his decision, before nodding and turning around again, settling yourself even deeper and more comfortably in his hold.

you suggest to your ikran to take the longest path home.

#kirby's crafts ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗#☾...avatar way of water...☽#⋆｡°✩drabbles #✩...neteyam sully...✩#✩...lo'ak sully...✩#neteyam x reader #loak x reader #lo'ak x reader #neteyam #neteyam sully #lo'ak #loak #lo'ak sully #loak sully #avatar way of water #avatar 2 #atwow #atwow x reader

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tired-biscuit · 2 years

Text

Warnings: 18+ mdni. established relationship. fem!reader. aged up kat. anal.

a/n: i finally gave in and wrote this filth, ok. it's been on my mind for a while, please forgive me lol.

---

THE moan Katsuki lets out is guttural.

He’s sweating like crazy on top of the navy blue sheets as he pants, the lust-driven look in his eyes purely male. Releasing a small sigh, the freshly-turned twenty-six-year-old smirks at the feverish warmth to surround him by the time his heavy cock sinks fully inside you.

Being balls deep inside your tight ass is pure bliss. All lubed up and twitching in delight to really relish the lewd birthday gift you give him every 365 days, and which he's so very impatient to receive, Katsuki doesn't mind at all that he's one year closer to thirty as he chuckles and shoves himself even deeper carefully.

The short "Hah... Fuck yeah, baby." is purely derisive by the time his entire length experiences the pleasant tightness of the tiny hole you don't allow him to fuck all that often. You're all stretched out as you accept him. He's so lucky.

You squeak when he pushes further inside you slowly; sweat-coated body trembling in the firm reverse cowgirl position he holds you in. Your legs are squeezed together and bent at the knees. He's pushing them further against your chest with the help of his rough hands resting on the back of your thighs, just so that he can actually impale you on his fucking cock. You feel like you're going to explode from how badly he wants in, in, in.

He's relentless.

"Ki," you whisper, brow furrowing at the pang of hot ache to sear through you when he angles himself better and pushes even further. "Easy, baby. I-I know you're excited, but... We gotta take it sl-... Oh, my fucking god, s-slow...! Go slow, baby. Please."

"Mhmmm, goin' slow and easy, pretty... Anythin' y'want," he replies dazedly. His words have nearly become an incoherent slur and twist of tongue from how good you're making him feel, but all the bitter liquor he's drank at the small get-together you've surprised him with - and which he pretended he hated - might be one to blame as well.

After all, the vanilla cake you got him for his 26th birthday was sickeningly cute on purpose; entirely covered in rich buttercream icing and drizzled with colourful sprinkles, which he swears gave him a headache whenever he looked at them for too long.

You've even went as far as to make him blow out the candles that had been propped up in the middle of the giant scribble of icing, spelling out a dramatic: ‘Happy birthday, Katsuki!’ in bright red colouring.

All of it is clearly a symbol of your loving, albeit taunting relationship - he knows it is. You buy the stupid cake for him just to be a menace every year, but he still ate every last bite of the giant piece you handed him at his super secret surprise party - the one that isn't even that much of a surprise, after the third annual time it's happened - even though the bridge of his nose wrinkled in annoyance during the entirety of him chewing the silly thing.

The presents he received from his friends were okay. The texts that kept making his cell phone beep were annoying. The long phone call he had to endure from his mother and father so that they could congratulate their son on turning one year older in his outrageously busy life was outright pesky. Truth be told, Katsuki felt low-key thankful by the time his birthday at long last came to an end and he was able to drop his tired body into bed.

But he feels good now - getting to do anal with you. So good, in fact, that he'd even consider enduring all of the birthday antics you tend to pull on him as some twisted form of a sick joke. Actually, he'd let you watch him suffer in his little party hat, and would let you take photos of him blowing out the shitty candles, if it meant that he would be spoiled rotten like this at least once every few days, every week, every month, every year; not just on April goddamn 20th.

He's just that greedy. That horny for that tight peach of yours.

"Ah, fuck... Ki!" You whine now; this desperate, prolonged sort of sob that yanks him right out of his thoughts as you say, "You feel s'big inside me... So, so big."

"It's 'cause you feel so damn good, babe," he compliments in reply, the tone of his voice so utterly strained. "You've got me s'hard that it makes my fuckin' dick hurt." It's true. He's ready to bust a nut so embarrassingly quick from how good it feels. It's a lucky thing that he's as stubborn as he is to resist it.

There's a wildfire in your eyes that he knows is there, despite that he can't see it when you grit out, "Well, your dick hurts me!" It hurts me so good.

"Yeah?" he says, unable to wipe the crooked, lazy grin from his face now. His hands grab a better hold of your thighs, calloused fingers digging deep into the plush flesh so that he can keep you still when you start to squirm. "Well, it ain't my fault you've got such a fuckable ass, huh? I wish I could see how pretty you look like this... With my dick up that tight hole of yours."

You're about to bite back a snarky remark, though nothing comes out except for a slutty moan the moment his thick fingers find your clit. A waterfall of filthy curses he rarely hears you voice leaves your pouty lips and sticks to ceiling of your shared bedroom at the divine friction he gives you now. It seems that he isn't the only one that gets to be spoiled this year.

He starts to rub lazy circles on the cute, sensitive button - all languid and precise, until the hole that's empty of him starts to flutter in response, and you begin to beg him to start pounding into you so that you can be filled up to the brim with his warm seed as soon as possible. The anticipation makes your legs literally shake. You're barely able to keep it together - and this fast, too.

Katsuki listens to your high-pitched pleas that grow both in fervour and necessity as more and more time passes. He's mindful as his hips begin to rut into you, keenly listening to the lewd squelching noises the lube produces with that heavy pat, pat, pat, and your heavy breathing when he gets an even better angle and strikes home. The clench you give him in response is so potent that he's about ready to lose his fucking mind.

The entire room smells like caramel from how much he's sweating. Salt is literally dribbling down both of his temples, but he still keeps going. He just can't stop. Not when you're about to cum from having his big, fat cock inside your ass.

"Gonna-... Gonna cum soon! Fuck, fuck, fuck - I-I'm so close, Kat."

"Yeah? I gotcha, baby... I gotcha. Imma take care of you. Gonna make you cum, promise."

Your curves jiggle against his abdomen as you take his dick like a fucking champ and keep on bouncing; nearly squealing in a pitch so high it makes his ears hurt when he pinches your puffy clit and turns you so overstimulated that you're nearly ready to squirt and gush all over him. As you squeeze your eyes shut and tip over the edge only minutes later, plunging into an orgasm of a different kind, that you only dare to experience once a year as a treat for your brute of a boyfriend.

He follows not a moment after you've floated up into the heavens and turned brain-dead. Everything feels fuzzy inside your mind as he fills you up with his cum and lets out another broken moan and a grunt of an especially nasty curse, but the warm ropes of white are pleasant as they coat your walls. You can tell he's been barely withholding his own climax; the entirety of his body feels so stiff and hot underneath you. Even his jaw is clenched so tightly that it clicks when he snaps it shut. It's just a different kind of experience, after all. Everything is more intense, hence why his eyes are rolling back and his head is sent tipping into the mattress.

"Maybe-... Fuck, oh my..." You suck in a sharp breath to recollect your buzzing thoughts as the words fade away into silence and you stick to his heaving chest until you're practically glued together. He's cummed so much that his cum leaks out of you even if he's still inside you, dick slowly going soft and tender. The milky release is drooling right down to his balls by the time you finally manage to finish your sentence, "Maybe we should take a picture next year, mm? Since you wanna see me so bad."

"I'd like that," he whispers quietly, pulling you closer and kissing your naked shoulder gently. "I'd like that a whole fuckin' lot, baby."

It's true. Katsuki may not like being the birthday boy and the attention it brings, but it’s different when he gets to spend it with you. The presents you give him on his birthday are always the best, after all.

To say that he can barely wait for the one he'll get for his 27th would be an understatement.

#katsuki bakugou #bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #mha smut

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odinsblog · 2 months

Text

Since 2014, millions of Uyghurs, Kazakhs and other minorities have been locked up in China and subjected to torture and forced labour. Some of those freed talk about trying to rebuild their lives in neighbouring Kazakhstan.

Photography by Robin Tutenges

A Chinese course book

Saliman Yesbolat used to live in Ghulja county, Xinjiang. After she refused to denounce her Uyghur neighbours to the police, she was forced to perform the raising of the Chinese flag every Monday at dawn, and to attend Chinese lessons twice a week in the basement of her building, where she would learn the Chinese language, patriotic songs and Xi Jinping's discourses by heart. This is her exercise book.

Forced to leave China

At 65, Imam Madi Toleukhan is one of the oldest refugees in Bekbolat, Kazakhstan, where more than 100 families took shelter after fleeing the Chinese regime. 'We were richer back there. I owned a herd, but I was too afraid for my sons, my grandchildren and their future: I came to Kazakhstan to save them. I didn't want them to be the fourth generation to suffer at the hands of the Chinese government, he says.

Remembering Uyghur culture in exile

Two members of the Dolan Ensemble, a Uyghur dance troupe based in Kazakhstan, get ready before performing a traditional dance to mark 40 days since the birth of a baby. Founded in 2016, the troupe performs at festivals or private events that bring together members of the Uyghur community, some of whom have had to leave Xinjiang.

Torture, infertility and damaged genitalia

In Kazakhstan, medical care for camp survivors is poor. Most victims can barely afford to see a family doctor. Anara*, an endocrinologist in a Kazakh hospital who has examined about 50 camp survivors since 2020, noticed recurrent infertility problems among her patients. 'Men or women, many have damaged genitalia. Some told me they'd been given drugs, others said they'd been raped. As they didn't come to us right after being released from the camps, it's impossible to know what kind of drugs they were administered in Xinjiang, she says. *Not her real name

The tiger chair

Ospan* spent a year in a re-education camp. He says his mind and body were crushed by the tortures he experienced in a tiger chair - a steel apparatus with handcuffs that restrains the body in painful positions. Aged about 50, this former shepherd, who took refuge with his family in eastern Kazakhstan, is no longer fit for work. Physically wrecked and prone to headaches, he mourns the loss of his memory above all. 'I used to know a lot of songs and I loved to sing; I also knew poems by heart ... Now, I can't sing any more, I can't remember the words,' he says. *Not his real name

Broken families and imprisonment

Aikamal Rashibek saw the dreadful efficiency of the CCP's brainwashing on her husband, Kerimbek Bakytali, after he was released from a Chinese psychiatric hospital. 'He disappeared for a year. When he came back, he didn't tell me anything about what happened to him. He was highly unhinged, always nervous, and got angry whenever I asked questions. He couldn't stop repeating that he hated Kazakhstan now, and that he wanted to go back to China with the kids to give them a Chinese education, says Aikamal. They are now separated.

Missing loved ones in China’s camps

In March 2017, Miyessar Muhedamu, left, a Uyghur woman, was arrested in Xinjiang under the pretext that she had studied Arabic in Egypt when she was young. Her husband, Sadirzhan Ayupov, right, and her three children have not seen her since. Now that Miyessar has left the camp, Sadirzhan receives a short call every few months. He suspects she might have suffered abuse, yet Miyessar can’t speak freely. ‘She told me she’d been in a re-education camp, and that she’d been released. When I ask her what she went through there, she doesn’t answer,’ says Sadirzhan.

Life after fleeing China

Sent to a re-education camp in 2018 at the age of 64, Yerke* saw her health quickly deteriorate. Locked a tiny cell with dozens of other women, she almost lost the use of her legs due to the cold floor she had to lie on. She was in the camp when she learned of her son’s death: pressured by the Chinese authorities, he took his own life. After her release, Yerke fled to Kazakhstan with some family members, but two of her children remain in China. *Not her real name

Forced labour and confessions

Dina Nurdybay, 32, was arrested in Nilka county, Xinjiang, because her traditional Kazakh clothing business made her a separatist, according to the Chinese authorities. She spent 11 months between two re-education camps, a CCP school and a forced-labour sewing factory. After proving she was capable of being ‘well behaved’ and having performed a self-criticism in front of the whole village, Dina was released and managed to escape when she obtained a week’s leave to visit her ailing father in Kazakhstan.

Cultural genocide

China’s repression of ethnic minorities also involves cultural genocide. As Muslim rituals are forbidden in Xinjiang, people are trying to keep their traditions alive across borders. Here, a family is praying together in Kazakhstan after the death of one of their relatives in Xinjiang. They could not repatriate the body because the border between the two countries was closed at the time.

(continue reading)

#politics #uyghur genocide #islamophobia #china #cultural genocide #uyghurs #photojournalism #genocide #uyghur refugees #kazakhstan

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sunny44 · 1 year

Text

Getting back on track

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x wife!reader

Warnings: angst, sickness and a lot of emotions.

Summary: Carlos was determined to make y/n change her mind and was willing to do anything to make her give up the divorce.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Carlos’ POV

I was still completely in shock with the information.

Divorce.

I never thought I would hear that coming out of her mouth, I never thought I would have another person in my life besides her.

We have been together for so long that I never would have imagined that she would be thinking about this.

And the worst part is that I was the one to blame for her thinking this, it wasn't because she didn't love me anymore or anything like that, it was me who pushed her away, I’m the one that repressed her and didn't let her talk about her feelings.

"Dude are you okay?" I come out of my thoughts with Charles calling me.

"What?"

"You're standing there staring at nothing."

"I'm fine."

"No you're not, I can tell you're upset.”

"Personal problems."

"Do you want to talk?”

"Y/n want a divorce." At the same time charles is completely shocked.

"What?"

"That's what you just heard."

"Why? You are the happiest couple I have ever met."

"She doesn't want a divorce because she doesn't love me anymore or because I don't love her anymore. But she has been wanting to have kids for a while."

"And you don't want to?"

"Of course I do and I want to have a family with her but I said the wrong thing."

"What did you say?"

"I said we couldn't have kids now because I really have a chance to win the championship and I couldn't have any distractions."

"I can't believe you told her that having a family is a distraction."

"But it is, not in a bad way but how do you think I'm going to get in a car at 350km/h knowing that the love of mine life and my son or daughter will be out there? What if I die? They'll be alone."

"Carlos if you die you will leave her here, she will still be here if you die. The only difference is that she will have a part of you here, a part that will make her have you here still." I can't say anything. "A child is not a distraction and deep down you know that. So you'd better think about what you want for your life, because you want to have a family with her but if you back out of fear you'll lose her too."

That said, he put on his helmet and got into his car, and I did the same thing.

Y/n POV

It had been a week since Carlos and I were apart, every day he was texting and calling me all the time and it only stopped when I turned my cell phone off.

And then he started calling my mom who didn't know the real reason why I was at her house, she thought I just came here because I wasn't going to the Monaco race and didn't want to be alone.

But then Carlos called her asking to talk to me because my cell phone wasn't getting the calls and messages anymore and that's when he told her about the divorce and then she freaked out and is bugging me about why I want to separate from an amazing guy like him.

"I DON'T WANT TO OK?" I yelled already tired of hearing her talk. "I don't want to divorce the love of my life but I'm not going to stop my life just because he doesn't want to, I've already sacrificed a lot of things for him and our marriage but I'm not going to sacrifice my dream of being a mother because I'm a distraction and because he wants to wait until he’s not racing anymore, men don't have an expiration date for having children but we women do, and what if when he decides to stop it's too late? Because I'm sure he won't stop anytime soon.”

"And why do you think that by staying single now you will be able to find someone else to have a child? It's not something that happens overnight, not to mention that I highly doubt you'll be able to get pregnant by a guy who isn't Carlos."

"I've made up my mind, if you can't support your own daughter I'm leaving right now." I say trying to hold back the tears.

"My goodness honey don't cry." She hugs me and I start to cry. "I just don't want you to make the biggest mistake of your life by deciding something serious without thinking straight. You should go to Monaco, support the man in your life and explain your fears to him, not run away from him."

"I'm not going to Monaco, I need some time to think and calm down. But I'm going back home.”

"You don't have to leave, you can stay here.”

"I know but I need to be completely alone and also because of the piñon. I can’t let him alone”

"Alright, drive carefully and think about what I told you. If after analyzing everything you still decide that divorce is the best option I will support you 100%, I just don't want you to regret it later." She kisses my forehead and I go to get my things and left her house going back to ours.

When I get home I’ve played with piñon a bit cause when he saw me he wouldn’t let me walk, I turn on the TV to watch the race, even though we are not on good terms I still want the best for him and that includes success in Formula 1.

I remember as if it were yesterday the first race he won at Silverstone, it was a weekend I wasn't supposed to be there but I wanted to surprise him so I went and luckily I was able to witness his victory.

The sound of the worried commentators brought me out of my thoughts and I saw that it was one of the Ferraris that had crashed, they showed it very fast so I couldn't see who it was but when they said it was him I could feel my heart racing.

This was one of the parts I hated about racing, because I didn't normally think about it but I knew that at any moment I could lose him forever.

And that's when I felt a huge urge to throw up and if the downstairs bathroom wasn't close to the living room I would have thrown up on the floor for sure.

After standing there for a few exhausted minutes I got up, brushed my teeth and went back to the living room and was relieved to see Carlos already in the garage in one piece. At the same time I felt like crying even though I knew he was fine and it was then that I decided to send him a message.

Messages with Mi amor 🌶️

Hi, I saw the accident

I would be relieved if you let me know if you are okay

I know we’re not in good terms right now but you know I still care about you

Mi amor 🌶️

Hey amor

I’m okay, a bit bruised but nothing serious

I’ll be home in a few days and I really want to talk about us

I don’t think it’s a good idea

Mi amor 🌶️

Please

I am asking you for 5 minutes and if after that you still want a divorce I will not insist anymore

I’m not gonna keep ruining your life

Okay

I’m home so I’ll be here when you come back

Mi amor 🌶️

Thank you

Is piñon okay? He was a bit sad after you leave

Yes he’s ok

He’s right here next to me

Mi amor 🌶️

I have some things to do now so I’ll be home in a few days

I love you

I love you too

…

The days passed and Carlos would arrive later today and even though we were in this situation I decided to cook our favorite dish for dinner.

I was finishing dinner when I heard the sound of keys on the door and took a deep breath to prepare myself psychologically for what was coming next.

"I'm in the kitchen." I warned him before he ask me.

"I figured by the smell." He appears in the kitchen. "Are you okay? You look a little pale."

"I am, I think I I’m sick."

"Are you sure? I've seen you sick before and I've never seen you like this."

"Don't worry I'm fine."

"I'll always worry about you." He tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear and I closed my eyes with his touch. "You want to talk already?"

"Can we eat first?"

"Whatever you want."

Dinner was silent and luckily it wasn't an awkward silence we just didn't have anything to talk about at this moment. After he washed the dishes and I went to lie down on the couch as I was feeling dizzy and I was lying on it when I felt my legs being lifted and felt them being placed over his legs.

"Baby I'm worried about you."

"I'm just dizzy."

"Look I'm really sorry..."

"I'm pregnant." I said quickly interrupting him.

I couldn't keep it to myself anymore and I needed to get this weight off my shoulders.

"What?"

"I'm pregnant, that's why I'm like this."

"When did you find out?”

"The day after the accident in Monaco."

"And why didn't you tell me before?”

"Because the last time I mentioned about this matter we fight and I needed to process all of this first."

"Why did you decide to tell me before we talked?”

"Because I couldn't bear to keep it to myself anymore and even though we fought you are my husband and I can't keep anything from you for long."

"Baby come here." He pulled me by the arm and I snuggled into his lap. "I'm happy ok?"

"What?"

"I am very happy that you are pregnant."

"You don't have to lie to me."

"I'm not lying and you know I would never lie to you. I talked to Charles and he made me realize that my fear of starting a family while I'm still racing was stupid and that I shouldn't let my fear win because I would end up losing you and I'd rather die before I let that happen."

"Don't say that." I say looking at him and holding his face. "Don't ever say that again, okay? You're not going to die because I need you, we need you."

"I need you too." He kissed my forehead. "I'm sorry for what I said, I expressed myself in the wrong way and I never meant for you to feel the way I made you feel."

"I'm sorry about the divorce thing, I never really wanted."

"And I'm sorry that I made you feel that it would be best if you were no longer married to me."

"It's okay." I held his face with both my hands and gave him a lingering kiss. "I love you."

"I love you too. You and our baby." I smiled and he kissed me. "How far along are you?"

"3 months."

"WHAT?" He shouts and I cover his mouth. "So you’re pregnant all these time?

"Yes, our trip to Mallorca that weekend paid off." He laughs.

"Oh my God I'm going to have to change diapers." he says out of nowhere terrified.

"I'm going to have to deliver a child through my vagina, changing poopy diapers is nothing."

"You're right." He says calmer but then immediately widens his eyes. "What if it's born and I'm not here?"

"Honey, calm down, we still have six months to get ready."

"Piñon is going to get a little sister.

"Why do you think it's a girl?"

"Because I was born to be surrounded by women, you are our daughters." At this I started to laugh. "I'm serious."

"It's okay love." I kissed him once more. "Shall we go to sleep?"

"Sure, I'm really tired and you have to rest because you're looking like you're going to throw up soon."

"Yeah, I'll take a bucket with me." He laughed and we went to our room.

In the end the divorce never happened.

Part 3 with baby chilly?

Tag list: @spicyclover

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ohwaitimthewriter · 7 days

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Okay so, I watched for a second time Kingdom of the planet of the apes and it just confirmed my wish to write a story I had in mind after the first watch.

Just to give a glimpse of what I thought about :

A human who got infected by the virus in Caesar's time. But instead of being destructive, the virus actually worked the way it was primarily supposed to on this specific human. But instead of simply regenerating the brain cells affected by Alzheimer's disease, the virus began to regenerate every cell in the body. Because of this, this human cannot die of old age or disease.

My point is : Noa and Raka meeting this human who has lived for over 300 years, watched her world crumble and her loved ones die. She knew Caesar because he saved her (long story to tell, I'm not going to display everything for now 😆) and she grew attached to him as a protective figure. She lived with Caesar's clan until the death of his son Cornelius and then she went away because she could no longer bear to see all the beings/apes, she loved very much and who protected her, die.

So, when Noa and Raka meet her, she's just tired of everything, she doesn't really know in which period of time she is or how things have really evolved in the world. She also doesn't know if the virus is going to leave her body at some point and let her finally get old and die. Otherwise, the only way for her to die, is to be killed.

At first, she doesn't really want to be involved with Noa and Raka but when they tell her about Proximus twisting Caesar's words, she just all in to help Noa and Raka because there is no way she's letting an ape disrespect Caesar.

If I have to give some warnings about this story it'll be: angst, a lot of mental abuse and suffering, some funny moments (I hope), fluff (because of course there's gonna be fluff!), sharing moments and a lot of emotional stuff (happy and sad) and some more I haven't identify yet. Also, not sure yet if I'll add Mae in the story, but I might!

I'm not sure yet if I'll write it but it could help if you share with me your point of view, so if you have any thoughts or questions, let me know, please! 😄

#kingdom of the planet of the apes #planet of the apes #caesar pota #noa kotpota #pota #kotpota #fanfiction #x reader #somewhat a oc but also written as an x reader

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aloesarchives · 5 months

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Tags/Warnings: Fem!Reader/Pronouns, Swearing, Gojo has a hard crush on you, Gojo vs Toji Part 3, The word ass being used, Toji straight up having beef and fighting a bunch of teenagers, Nicknames such as beloved and hon(ney), JJK OCs, Out of pocket moments and sayings, Me being an annoying narrator

[Semi-proofread, informal formatting, and edited as of 12/22/2023 10:18am CST]

Summary: One of the truths behind Toji's beef with Gojo

Word count: 2.8k words

(A/N: I spent 10pm-6am writing this because I just need to or I would never forgive myself if I didn't! I promise I will have some of the "Toji lives" AU posts ready by next week because your girl got her ADHD meds back in stock!! Thank you for being patient with me and my inconsistent updates!!) (12/22/2023 6:05am CST)

💙I love you all! 💙🥰😚💙

💙❤️Please Enjoy!!!💙❤️

The REAL reason Toji has major beef with Gojo is because Gojo had a crush on you during his high school days when you would sub for Yaga in the classroom and training sessions. He did try his best to keep it under wraps but Geto was like,

"Bro, she's the same age as Yaga-sensei. . . Stop reaching, Satoru. . . Do I need to remind you who (L/N)-sama is married to again?"

The Gojo responded with, "Suguru, I don't give a shit about that loser. He's a bum, anyway. The question you should be asking is why (L/N)-dono is fucking married and still in-love to a deadbeat like him. I would have been a better option. Face it Suguru, I'm right."

While Satoru has a point, as Suguru noted, it doesn't change the fact that Satoru was crushing on a MARRIED woman who had TWO kids.

Though it was true, Satoru would have technically been a good husband/father/lover. However, there are many reasons why it must be ruled out.

Satoru is over half your age. Picking him meant allegations and a prison cell. Gojo tried reasoning with you, "But (Y/N)-dono! Age is just a number, give me two years!" "And Prison is just a place, Satoru-kun. I don't want to be labeled as a child predator, let alone be framed for "seDuCinG" the Gojo heir. I want to have a clean record."

While his personality brought you happiness, his carefree nature would clash a lot with you. He can mature but his child-like spirit and carefree persona isn't something you would personally deal with.

He was more of your protégé/junior/student if anything. You saw him more as your son and acted like a parental figure. You wanted to watch him grow and mature. Not become his lover.

To spite the higher-ups and Jujutsu elders(excluding your clan). Given you were a powerful and skillful sorcerer, marrying Gojo would be "BeNeFiCiaL" to Jujutsu society. However, it meant that you were on a watchlist 24/7 and pressured to have an HeIR. It made you physically sick and ill thinking what those old useless dementia white-haired cowards are allow to do that just to better "society" but not its citizens.

You are MARRIED to a man who is trying to step up after his major fuck ups. It's not perfect but Toji is his best trying after you gave him his life and freedom. Since he technically can't leave your home or go to Jujutsu High without your supervision, he's basically househusband duty. And he was getting pretty damn good at it too. Plus Toji's hot, he got you feral and gnawing at your teeth with his signature smile and smirk. And the way his arms flex when he crosses them, or how they feel when you link arms together.

While it wasn't super obvious, okay it was obvious, you always shot down Satoru's playful confessions and light-hearted shenanigans. Basically rejecting him every time. Usually, Suguru would warn you in advance but you know it would happen with each interactions. While you firmly turned him down, you made him understand why it can't and WON'T happen. You still care for him, just never romantically, only platonically and motherly. You made it clear that his "love" for you was just a strong admiration and infatuation disguised as a crush.

Though he was heartbroken, at first. Satoru slowly understand what you mean and his crush slowly fades away as it's replaced with immense respect for you.

HOWEVER, it still linger and not widely known because Toji finally gets word of this through the grapevine. A.K.A, through his two children Megumi and Tsumiki. It happened one day when you brought the two to the school so you can keep a close eye on them since they didn't have school that day. Toji was out doing errands so the two kids are accompanying you. Megumi and Tsumiki were occupied with their books and toys while you taught and trained the students. Megumi and Tsumiki went to find you because they were hungry and you had their lunches. As they looked for you, they see you talking to Satoru. They meet him a couple of times but he's still a stranger to them compared to Shoko or Suguru. So when they see Gojo with you, all alone with no one around, they thought it was major sus.

As they snuck closer, they could hear bit and pieces of what Gojo is saying to you. Megumi lowkey thinks Gojo is super annoying and acts more of a child then he does. But what catches his ears first was something with along the lines of, "(L/N)-dono, please consider it-" "Satoru-kun, how many time will I need to say no to you? You know I can never feel for you that way. Plus it's bad for me to agree to it. You know that it's admiration and infatuation if anything. Not love."

See Megumi knows you only use love as in 'I love you" to him, his sister, and his dad. But to this dude? Nah, something fishy is going on and Megumi gotta tell his dad about it. Megumi comes running, yelling "Mommy!!!". You and Satoru turn to see your son running to you and colliding with your legs. You crouch down and pat your son's head and smile at your daughter following behind him. Megumi hands your hand tightly as you lead them away to have lunch with your kids. Satoru made a face at Megumi when he saw the kid glare at him.

Once you three made it home, you're in the bathroom changing into some home clothes. Meanwhile, Toji was cooking dinner while Megumi and Tsumiki were waiting for you at the dinner table. As Toji was asking them about their day with you, Megumi brought up Gojo's advances and confession towards you. When Megumi said this, the beef Toji was about to flip plopped right back onto the pan. He looks back at Megumi and asks if there's anything else that he can share. As Megumi shares what he has seen through his perspective, Toji asks Tsumiki to confirm is this is all true, to which she said yes, backing up Megumi's claims.

"Yeah, Papa. Satoru-kun is weird. Even though Mama keeps saying she's married to you, he still does it. Tsumiki saw it too."

"I see... Thank you, Megumi and Tsumiki for watching and taking care of Mama for me. I appreciate it a lot. Can you tell her that dinner is almost ready?"

The kids nodded and went to go get you. After dinner and putting the kids to bed, you were sipping your favorite drink as Toji is doing the dishes. You would have helped him but he said no. While you two were talking, he brings up Satoru and his school crush on you.

"Toji, beloved, you know that it's just a small crush. It's nothing more then puppy love for me. Nothing more and nothing less. And you know that you're the only man that I am willing to give my heart to."

"I know that, (Y/N). But what does this brat got on me to think he's a better match for you? Just because this kid is practically a god doesn't mean everyone will bow down to him. I'm definitely not one of them. And to know that said brat is flirting with you even though you're visibly married with kids, he needs to read the room. I will be going with you to school tomorrow. The kids go back to school the next day, and I already got this week's groceries and cleaned the house."

You would have protested if Toji didn't give you a searing kiss while caging you in his arms. Fuck he looked so hot. Curse him and his good looks *punching the air*.

"Fine, you can come. BUT, Toji you need to behavior yourself. You already knew the deal. You better not be doing any funny business."

"Yes, Ma'am. You're the boss, I promise you." Toji says as he gave you a kiss on the cheek before lightly patting your ass.

After dropping the kids off, Toji accompanies you to the school. Toji is just silent and sits in one of the chairs as you do your lessons. Toji is leaning on the chair with a smirk plastered on his face. Not a care in the world. After a few lessons, you were going to teach and train Gojo, Geto, and Shoko for the rest of the school day. As you went to their classroom, they greet you, especially Gojo. However, the mood changed when they saw Toji walk in behind you, wearing nothing but a black slim fit t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Toji gave a head nod to the teens while he just takes a seat in a chair to lean on it. The three were shock to see him.

Particularly because they did expect him to come with you to the school at all. Suguru had an idea but he hoped it wasn't going to be it. After teaching a lesson, you told the three to practice their curse techniques and let their curse energy loose. While doing so, you told them that you would have to speak to Yaga for a bit on something and would be back 15 minutes tops. You told Toji to behave, and he nodded and gave a thumbs up. As you leave the kids and your husband on the train grounds, that's when the storm started brewing. Toji walks up to Gojo and is 3 feet from him. He smirks while looking at him up and down, sizing him up. Shoko and Suguru are on the sidelines as Toji, a married adult male in his 30s, was beefing with a 16 year old high school student.

Suguru: "Satoru, I don't think this is a good idea-"

Satoru: "Hush now, Suguru. . . It's my time to shine. . . Watch the master at work."

Suguru proceeds to roll his eyes but becomes a little weary after his last encounter with Toji was. . . unideal. Given one of their teachers was shot in the throat by Toji saving Anamai, and himself getting injured. It wasn't something he wanted to constantly get reminded of. But ever since you liberated Toji from the higher ups and explained it to your students, Suguru has slowly been changing his views on Toji. It will take a while but it's getting there. Anyhow, Suguru told Shoko to book it once the two were going to throw down.

Satoru: "So, what brings you back here, Toji~? You just couldn't get me out of that little mind of yours~? You're mad I'm 1-0 with you?"

Toji: "Kid, I'm pretty sure that it's 1-1 since I won our first battle. Anyway, I heard through the grapevine that you gave (Y/N) a love confession. Don't you know it's bad to confess and hit on a married woman who has kids? Were you taught any manners? Then again, by the way you act, you probably have none."

Satoru: "You're just mad, Old Man. That I, Satoru Gojo, would treat (Y/N)-dono better and treat her worth. Face it, Old Man. I'm a better match for her than you'll ever be."

Toji: "Like she ever goes for someone half her age, Brat. Plus, you'll never look at you as a lover ever. You're more of a son to her and that's the closest you'll get."

Satoru: "Well, she doesn't need a bum like you around. Imagine fighting a bunch of teens and getting your ass beat by said teens. Skill issue if you ask me."

Toji: "Watch your tongue, Boy. Remember who made you struggle for the first time in your life and actually killed you. While, you know, fucking up your best friend, the second strongest sorcerer, with no curse energy? I got your ass with no gifts other than being a superhuman with weapons. You can never beat me, I'm just built different, Kid."

Satoru: "You wanna test that, Toji~? You got no curse weapons with you. I can pack you up like you're a school lunch."

Toji: "Kid, please. I don't need any weapons to beat you, let alone kill you. You see this? This is a rock, and I can use it to beat you. I also still have my hands too. And I am more then willing to give it to you, Gojo~kun."

Satoru: "You think I'm scared of someone like you? I've ascended, enlighten if you will. If you even know what that word is. Throughout Heaven and Earth, I alone am the honored one. Remember those words, Fushiguro-san? Remember them good because I will put you six feet underground."

Toji: "I see then, Kid. . . So you're playing God? I guess that makes me a God Slayer then. . . Prepare yourself, Kid. . ."

Satoru: "Alright, bet then, Bozo."

Thus, Gojo and Toji started to go at each other for round 3. Shoko was already gone and the two started fighting in the training grounds. Five minutes have already passed and they have made five decently sized craters. Just as both of them were about to throw a punch at each other, they suddenly felt a powerful presence which halted them. They turn to you walking towards them with a furious face unimaginable.

"GOJO SATORU AND TOJI (L/N) FUSHIGURO!!!! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!?!?! I LEAVE FOR LESS THAN HALF AN HOUR AND I GET CALLED BACK BECAUSE OF THIS!?!?"

"(Y/N)-dono!!"

"(Y/N)!"

You moved like a blur and appeared next to them vice gripping their forearms tightly. You dragged them to the nearest empty classroom you can find or any room. You were just so livid that you didn't hear Gojo whining about your grip and asking to let you go like a child. As you let them go once you dragged them far enough, you smacked both of them hard on the head. Shoko and Gojo were watching this as Yaga appeared right next to them shortly. It was interesting seeing two of the most broken people in the world kneeling with their heads down in-front of a woman who doesn't have god-like abilities.

"GOJO, WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT USING BOTH OF YOUR ABILITIES DURING TRAINING SESSIONS!?!? YOU KNOW THE CALAMITY AND DAMAGE YOU COULD'VE CAUSED!?"

"BUT (Y/N)-dono! He-"

"NO BUTS, GOJO!! AND YOU, TOJI, I LITERALLY JUST SAID NO FUNNY BUSINESS AND YOU'RE ABOUT TO CREATE THE NEXT SECOND COMING OF CHRIST. I DON'T NEED ANOTHER RAPTURE HERE. I'M STILL DEALING WITH THE AFTERMATH FROM THE TWO OF YOU AS IT IS!!!"

"Okay, Hon. I take full responsibility for my actions today."

"YOU BETTER, TOJI!!! YOU'RE A FULL GROWN MARRIED MAN WITH TWO KIDS!!!"

"But (Y/N)-dono, I was not going to kill him last time-"

"NO ONES DYING HERE!!! NEITHER OF YOU WILL NOT DIE AS LONG AS I AM AROUND. I WON'T LET THE BOTH OF YOU KILL EACH OTHER OVER SOME PETTINESS AND A BOY CRUSH."

You start to calm down but you are still firm with them.

"I know this started because of Satoru's crush on me. . . Satoru, I will not love you romantically and date you. Please understand that. I care for you like family and that is said for the rest of you. Yes you, Suguru, Shoko, and Yaga. And Toji, I'm not leaving you for a child. I would be in jail and not working here. . . Geez, I saw this from a mile away but never expected this to happen. Now, you two better behave yourselves or else. You two don't have to say sorry or anything like of the sort. Just don't go tearing at each other's throats when I both am and am not around. Please, for me. . ."

The two looked at each other before saying a soft yeah. After that, Yaga told you to go home early and he would take it from there. You had to patch up Toji a bit but it wasn't anything of concern. From then on, Toji and Gojo just banter and bicker with each other. It's funny to watch except for Megumi since he's seeing his dad beefing with his unofficial adoptive older brother 24/7.

Satoru eventually grows out of his crush for (Y/N) but Suguru and Shoko never let him down. Hell, it's a running gag in the school about Gojo's old crush on you. Gojo always gets super embarrassed about it, especially when you join in but it's all fun and games with you all.

The only person who genuinely hates it is Megumi because the thought of Gojo having romantic feelings for you and trying to woo you made Megumi visibly ill and sick to his core. He would lowkey help his dad beat up Gojo if Gojo's crush on you became serious again.

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💙Author's Notes💙: 💙I am truly grateful to each and everyone of you in showing me that my writing is enjoyable to read!!! I appreciate you all from the bottom of my heart for making my comeback worthwhile! I hate to sound giga cringe but every single one of you that likes, reblogs, and comments on my writing post make me want to continue writing because I know that there are people out there that like what I make.💙 💙So once again, I am truly grateful and feel appreciative that everyone single one of you enjoy what I have been writing. I hope you all stay healthy, drink your water/favorite drink, treat yourself kindly, and take a break because you earned it!💙🥰 ❄️💙💙Happy Holidays to all of you, my GOATS!!!💙💙❄️

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fanfic-lover-girl · 6 months

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Goku may have failed Gohan in some ways as a father, but Piccolo was never and will never be Gohan's Daddy

So when I was younger, I enjoyed a handful of fics centred on Piccolo and Gohan's relationship. I love how much Piccolo came to care for Gohan and it was nice to see Dad!Piccolo every now and then...but Dad!Piccolo can't ever measure up to fics where Goku is a great dad. I understand why some people may believe Piccolo is Gohan's true dad but I don't agree, especially now as an adult woman with my father now dead.

Disclaimer: I am basing this off my experience watching Dragonball, DBZ, DBGT and most of the DBZ/GT movies. I have not watched DBS nor will I ever. That series can screw itself.

Piccolo's responsibility in destroying Gohan's childhood

Piccolo is the one who thrust Gohan into the world of fighting and world-ending battles. He kidnapped Gohan and left Gohan to fend for himself for months. I will argue that Piccolo started Gohan's warrior path on a traumatic note and that's partly why Gohan does not gravitate towards fighting as he grows older. Yes, Piccolo changed but the damage can not be undone.

Difference in species

This may look superficial at first glance but it is significant as you look into it. Namekians are radically different from humans/saiyans physically, emotionally and sexually. That means that Piccolo can not advise Gohan on various aspects of his life as he grows older, especially during puberty. Piccolo can't teach him to shave. Piccolo can't give him the sex talk and talk to him about girls. Piccolo can't help Gohan with his friendships. Piccolo can't relate to whatever saiyan or human urge Gohan may experience. A father is supposed to model a good man for his kids and teach his son to be one. Piccolo can't offer that to Gohan, unfortunately.

Emotional distance

I see Gohan as a very emotional and affectionate person. You see this when he interacts with Goku, Goten and Videl. Piccolo is more reserved and closed off. Usually when Piccolo and Gohan interact, there's always some kind of distance between them. However, there are a few times when Piccolo will rest his hand on Gohan's head or shoulder when he feels extremely proud like after the Cell games. However, I don't think this would have been enough from a father figure for Gohan. When Gohan is crying after Goku's sacrifice, it's Krillin who steps up and comforts Gohan. When the Z fighters go to the lookout after Gohan's victory, it's Yamcha who carries Gohan. This does not mean Piccolo does not care for Gohan! I am just saying that Gohan likes physical forms of affection too, but that's not Piccolo's love language.

Fighting is all they have in common

We don't see Piccolo and Gohan have any extensive scenes together outside the context of battles and fighting. What exactly do they do together for fun? What do they talk about? In the movies, we see kid Gohan being silly around Piccolo and Piccolo tolerating him, but that hardly counts. I get the vibe from the series that Gohan's visits to Piccolo are brief and they don't have much small talk. With Goku, we see Gohan and him enjoy pastimes together like fishing, bathing and eating. In the lead-up to the Cell games, we see them reminisce about Gohan's childhood and have fun as a family at Gohan's birthday party. Why wasn't Piccolo there?

Piccolo is not involved wholistically in Gohan's life

Piccolo only really exists and functions in the fighting realm of Gohan's life. This is why their relationship does not feel as close as Gohan grows older and starts his career and family. Piccolo hardly expresses any interest in the other facets of Gohan's life. I don't even recall Piccolo interacting at all with Pan or Videl at the end of Z or GT. He is not close with Chi Chi and Goten, Gohan's family. I think Piccolo is closer to the Son family in Super but I don't care. Compare this with Goku who encourages Gohan to study, teases him about Videl and spends time with Pan.

Conclusion: Goku is Gohan's daddy and Piccolo can't fill that gap.

This does not take away the fact that Piccolo protected Gohan and loved him in his own way. Sacrificing himself for Gohan multiple times. Piccolo was the one who understood Gohan's mindset during the Cell games (probably because he was the one who beat baby Gohan into a fighter and saw his timidness up close vs. Goku who came back to life and only saw hero Gohan being badass all the time) and was the first Z fighter to step in during Gohan's fight against Cell. But Piccolo is better labelled as a friend or mentor to Gohan. Maybe uncle or big brother. Goku is Gohan's father, Gohan sees Goku as his daddy, and Piccolo will never fill that role for Gohan.

#piccolo #son goku #son gohan #saiyan saga #cell saga #android saga #dad!piccolo critical #piccolo is not gohan's dad #goku will always be gohan's daddy #son family #dbz #dragon ball z #gohan deserved better #dragonball gt #gohan & piccolo

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heartthrobin · 1 year

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paint my sunset peach (1)

mechanic!eddie munson x farmgirl!reader

wc: 6.71k

warnings: reader is a little bit of a meanie, dirty sweaty eddie, hella pining, sunshine!eddie + grumpy!reader, swearing but otherwise pretty wholesome, limited use of y/n

an: i started writing this literally months ago and only finished it recently, super duper proud of it :))) this will be part one of a (probably) three part series. let me know if you want a tag in part 2 !!! i tried to tag all those who liked this post so thanks for the support - love you all <33

summary: the conveyer belt of mech-heads you dealt with on a weekly basis were nothing more than a side-show annoyance. but god, the auto-shop had never sent one with such round, wet brown eyes before.

part two

Before the auto-shop, on the corner at the intersection of Lovett and Harwood, was a Chinese restaurant.

The Red Lotus.

On Friday nights as a kid, daddy would drive into town and return with a steaming white bag of fried rice and dumplings. Sometimes, when they had in stock, he'd bring a single mooncake to share between him and you.

It was family run, the Zhou's. Three sons and a daughter.

They closed down right after you graduated, tired of the middle of nowhere-ness. The tractors rumbling loudly through town at six o' clock every morning, the shaky cell reception and the incessant knock of evening frogs on the porch.

Tired of butt-fuck nowhere Tennessee.

It stood empty for two years. Sometimes you'd pass it in your truck and remember them, other times you wouldn't even look.

But now, now it stood as a brand new garage. Or at least the tiny town's excuse for "brand new".

Daddy's friend, Mister Carl Abernathy, owned it.

He was a short stocky man, bald all over and you'd never seen him without a cold bottle of cider and the remnants of it’s sweat staining down his creased button-up.

You knew that only because he was always around: lots of things on the farm needed fixing up.

Weeds crept up into the tires of the tractors, age beat at the truck you used to move in and out of town - crates of peaches bouncing jovially over each bump.

Every time they needed a looking at, Carl would send over the bonehead of the week.

The same white pull-up would brake loudly outside the farmhouse door, always somewhere around nine: just in time to disturb your breakfast, and one of his latest recruits would hop out.

They’d lean haughtily against the large wheel of the dying blue tractor.

"Well, looks like we've got a problem on our hands here, hey little missy?"

They weren’t even worth the effort it took to roll your eyes. No shit.

The farm didn't make nearly enough from the weekend markets in bigger nearby towns, or the pennies of the townsfolk to afford new vehicles. So, you stuck it out with each caveman Carl sent your way.

And you were fine with it.

Mostly fine with it.

Sure, some of them were vulgar: they'd whistle at you or comment on your ass when you passed them working. Others could only succeed at making the vehicle worse than when they'd started, but it was your job to sort them out.

Could you have gone off with your high school friends to college? Sure.

Maybe.

But that’d leave Daddy all alone in that big house. You pushed away the thought when it surfaced to bug you.

Your mother had disappeared long before you knew her, exhausted - like the Zhou's - of being nowhere.

Maybe of being no one. Perhaps of being a no one peach farmer with the grump that was your daddy and a toddler zooming at her feet.

Either way, it didn't matter.

She had left and you remained to do the job, and that job included dealing with Carl’s mechanics.

At least it hadn't mattered, not until some morning in late summer.

The sun watched from high over the green farmhouse. It glared down, peeking over the edge of the porch.

You were fixed on the bird pecking at the already deteriorating grey window pane above the sink, overlooking the rows of colourful fields.

"You're messing, Cherry."

Cherry. Daddy had been calling you that since as far back as you could remember him talking.

You glanced at him across the table, where the spread of bread, eggs and jam had been lain, before you noticed where a long stripe of strawberry jam had run down the front of your black tank top.

"Listen now, you're gonna be fine with the tractor today?"

His voice was stern - probably too stern for such an hour of the morning, but you hardly noticed - swiping at the jam with your finger and nodding.

"No problems, alright?"

Daddy usually worked the tractor, but he was going to some meeting two towns over. He hadn't mentioned what about, but you were sure it had to do with the crippling financial state of the farm.

You nodded.

It's how you found yourself alone out in the heat of the midday sun.

The tractor rumbled beneath you, joggling over every rock and mole hill.

Every couple meters, you'd stop: climb off and pick at the peaches before tossing them into the crate. When enough crates were full, you'd load them onto the truck and move again.

You'd been at it, burning over your arms and shoulders, for what couldn’t have been more than a few hours when the tractor gave a sickening jolt.

Gripping the wheel and watching in horror over the edge of your sunglasses, your eyes followed the thick cloud of grey smoke where it began seeping out at the edges of the hood and disappearing up into the sky.

"No, no, no ..." you drew up the handbrake and leapt out the side onto the soil. The blue metal scalded the tips of your fingers where you threw the bonnet open before swallowing down mouthfuls of hot smoke.

It took five minutes of coughing against the side of the vehicle, another five kicking at the left wheel and at least another ten swearing at the sky before you dug your phone out from between the seats and dialled the number to Carl's auto shop.

It rung three times before his gruff voice carried across the line, "Abernathy Auto Repairs speakin', hello?"

"Good morning Mr Abernathy," your fingers pressed into the sides of your temple, working fruitlessly against the headache forming there. "I'm calling from the farm down Jasmine road—"

"Oh hey there, darlin'. What can I do you for?"

A squirrel rustled somewhere down the row of bushes. "Well, I'm out in the field now and the tractor has ... uh, given up on me. The ‘63. Need one of your men to come give it a start, or a look-over or—"

"Not a problem, not a problem at all. Are you far out? Whereabouts are you?"

You cupped a hand to shield up over your eyes, glancing back from whence you'd came. The house was but a speck of green in the distance.

"About two or three miles north west of the house?"

You could practically hear him nodding, a steady gulp audible against the line.

"Don't you worry about a thing, little darlin', I'll have one of my boys out there within the hour. Just hang tight."

"Alright, thank you kindly sir—"

But the line was already dead.

You glared at the phone.

Huffing loudly, you pulled yourself back up onto the truck - allowing the soft shade to gently graze over your face as you sunk back into the seat.

The warm wind rippled over the tops of the rows of greenery and you watched quietly, the irritation simmering to a low boil in your chest.

There was a quiet tranquility in being so far out from the house, shielded from the scorch.

Your boot tapped rhythmically against the console. Warm breeze brushed over your face again and you sighed, tilting your hat lower over your forehead. The lull of the quiet field allowed your lashes to fan closed over your cheeks. Before you’d taken note of the bird coming to perch on the roof, you were already asleep.

It was the loud rumble of an engine and the throbbing pain in your neck that brought you back to the world of the conscious.

You woke with a jump. Heart thumping against your ribcage in instant confusion. Your hat flew off your head and over the edge of your seat from where it had been blocking the light over your eyes.

Bringing a hand to your neck you whined loudly, the angle you’d been perched at doing nothing for the long term preservation of your muscles there.

You turned anyways, noticing the white pick-up quickly nearing from the direction of the house.

Frowning, you glanced down at time against the console. Three fifty-eight.

"Shit!"

You stuck your head out from under the shade of the tractor top to notice how low the sun has sunk in the sky. It was almost reaching the head of the hill in the distance.

The mechanic shouldn't have taken longer than an hour to find you, and subsequently, wake you. You quickly diffused yourself of blame.

Daddy was going to kill you.

Clambering off the side of the tractor, your hands found your hips before the car pulled to a wailing halt barely a few centimetres off from your knees.

Dust swept up around the truck, obscuring the view of the man that stepped out of it.

"Woah. Almost hit you there, doll."

Warm wind cleared the air and the figure of a young man stood in your field.

The words sitting on your tongue begging to be spat out were sucked straight back down your throat.

For a moment you forgot what you had planned to say at all.

The man's eyebrow cocked at you under strands of dark, curly hair falling carelessly from the skew bun atop his head.

Behind you, a crow cried in the distance. Your senses quickly returned to you.

Your fists tightened at your sides. "Where on god's green earth have you been?"

He looked taken aback.

"Well, I had some trouble finding the house," he smiled sheepishly, motioning to the farmhouse over his shoulder, "and then I had to phone Carl cause he didn't really tell me where—"

"So you're new then? Carl sent a greenie to come fix my tractor?"

Anyone who'd spent more than three days in town knew the farm down Jasmine road. Knew your farm.

A heavily ringed hand came up to his jaw, rubbing there and eyeing you in a way that made the hair on your arms stands straight up.

It was painfully unfair how handsome he was.

"New to town. Not new to fixing tractors." His voice was smooth, the curl of a grin peaking at you from the edge of his mouth.

Sucking in a deep breath - a feeble attempt at composure - you nodded once.

"Well, I've got a tractor and it's broken. And you're two hours late, so if you don't mind, I've got a job to do."

You turned violently on your heel, sure if you stood under his gaze any longer that you'd melt right against the soil.

The sound of the peaches tumbling out the crate onto the tractor split the air between you and him, and soon you were marching away from his figure - crate in hand - in pursuit of fruit further down the lane.

"I'm Eddie!"

You waved vaguely over your shoulder, electing not to bless him with an answer.

Carl was going to hear an earful from your father, you were sure of it. You plucked angrily at the fruits off the bush, tossing them a little too violently in with the rest.

It was quiet from the distance behind you, but you refused to turn to look.

Sure, you shouldn't be so surprised that one of Carl's idiots was nearly two hours late and got lost in a town that really only has two roads, but god, he'd never sent one with such round, wet brown eyes before.

The walk was long, each stop causing the crate to become heavier, and you worked hard to put the image of the mechanic’s black shirt - that he'd obviously cut the sleeves off himself - and how it clung to his chest with sweat out of your mind.

You didn't stop until a voice called from behind. At first it was soft, but it grew louder within a minute: as was the sound of footfalls.

"Hey, miss!"

He was jogging towards you, pieces of hair falling recklessly out from the grips of his hair tie to frame his red face.

Eddie only stopped when barely a few feet separated you.

"All done." He grinned, huffing around his smile. "She just overheated a bit, needed some water and a a couple valves disconnected."

You couldn't tell whether it was harder to hold his gaze or work to keep yours off of his chest.

"Right. Good." You nodded, leaning to lift the crate at your feet. "Then I'll be getting back to it."

It was heavy, almost too heavy if you hadn't lifted boxes like those from sunrise to sunset for the last eighteen or so years.

But the mechanic was clearly unconvinced, he swooped in closer to you. "Let me get that—"

"I'm fine—"

"No really." By now he was way too close, close enough that you could smell the undertones of a shower gel or maybe a cologne.

His voice softened, "Please. To make up for my tardiness."

It was hard to tell whether it was the sun making you so dizzy or his proximity, but either way, it forced you to nod slowly. "Fine."

Eddie took the crate from your hands, you ignored the rush of heat to your stomach as he grunted against the weight.

"Strong thing aren't you, doll?"

You didn't respond, eyes fixed on the giant blue tractor a couple meters from where you stood.

Silence rung, only the footfalls filling the space. You'd almost made it all the way back to the tractor without conversation before the mechanic decided to open his mouth again.

"I don't think I caught your name earlier."

You met his eyes, regretting it almost immediately when your knees threatened to buckle, "That's because I never gave it."

Stepping just close enough to take the crate from his grip, but avoid the drift of his cologne again, your hands brushed closely against his.

They were cool against your sweaty ones.

He was grinning again.

You stepped back, balancing the peaches against your hip before tilting it over the box attached to the end of the tractor allowing the round pink pieces to clatter down into its depths.

"Right. Well, what's your name then doll?"

But you were already clambering back up the side of the tractor into the worn leather seat.

"Wouldn't you like to know, pretty boy."

He was leaning against the side of the truck now, you avoided looking down at him, something told you that you'd find those eyes blinking right up into your soul again if you did.

"So you think I'm pretty?"

Hot red blush chased up the sides of your neck over your ears, you prayed it wasn't discernible under the pink sunburn.

The keys jingled loudly as you slid them into the ignition and turned them violently. The vehicle jerked to life.

"I think your job is done. Good afternoon sir."

Before he could say another word, your foot had sunk down on the accelerator and the tractor was rumbling back down between the bushes again.

In your peripheral vision you watched how the mechanic stumbled back against his pick-up, narrowly avoiding catching his foot under one of the hundred pound tires, and the sound of an echoing chuckle fading as you plodded away.

The drive back to the auto-garage was quick. At least quicker than the drive Eddie had taken to find the farm.

His hands tightened around the wheel, twisting over the leather as he pulled to a park in the open spot across the street.

A ring of brown soil stared up at him from where he'd pulled at the handbrake with dusty paws.

"Shit ..." he wiped his hands down the jean over his thighs.

Eddie was used to the oil and the reek of grease, as if that wasn't already enough, but not the itch of farm soil up his nostrils and behind his ears.

He twisted the metal ring around his finger, a small grin playing at his lips.

But the soil wasn't so bad, he reckons he'd swim through a pool of it it to get another chance to watch the hot-tempered farm girl's hips sway when she marched away from him, just as you'd done earlier that afternoon.

The smile didn't leave his face as he climbed out the car, locked it and crossed the street whistling.

Eddie was almost completely used to the whir of the drills echoing off the walls and barely registered the creak of the lever that was raising a car near the back of the shop.

Carl was leaning over the reception desk clinking the bottom of his cider bottle against the wood and puffing on the end of a cigarette.

He waved vaguely down at the open ledger when he noticed Eddie nearing, "See here, extra two hundred dollars on a cheap fucking knock off for that AMC Eagle. You believe that, Munson?"

"Hardly, boss."

Eddie was halfway back to where he'd abandoned the engine on a red convertible before weaving across town to find a farm when the boss' voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Hold it, hold it. Where’ve you been? Didn't I send you outta here three hours ago?" He swivelled on the bar stool against the counter to face him.

The greasy palm that had been picking it's way under car hoods all afternoon reached up to rub against the side of his neck. "I couldn't find that fucking farm, did three circles ‘round the post office before I saw the sign for Jasmine road."

Carl surveyed him with a crooked brow. "They didn't teach you to read maps down in Indiana, boy?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He was about to turn back on his way, when the picture of your face glimmered at him behind his eyes, "Listen boss, the girl there. The daughter you said, what's her name?"

By then, Carl had already turned back down to the accounts. "What's it to ya?"

Silence rung long enough that Carl peeked back up at Eddie over the rim of his glasses.

Eddie shrugged bashfully. "Pretty thing."

Carl threw his head back, laughing loudly - Eddie always thought his laugh sounded like a dog barking.

"I've seen that look." He shook his head, lifting to perch his glasses on his shining bald head. "Too many of you boys come back from that farm starry-eyed. No hope with that princess, she don't like you mech-heads. Nope, not one bit."

"Ah, come on, don't you believe in love at first sight?"

Carl let off another crumbly chuckle, "Bit your head off, didn't she?"

"Sure did." He beamed like the cat that caught the canary, "Love it when a lady talks to me sweet."

A sweaty hand shrugged him off.

"Get back to work, Munson."

But Eddie wavered. "Just a name, boss."

Carl stared at him for a couple moments, clearly bored. It took a long slug of the yellow cider and a hard sigh before he spoke again: "Y/n."

The grin crept back up his cheeks. He tested the name on his tongue, finding it to taste as sweet as he knew it would.

"Appreciate it."

"Get back to that convertible before I fire you."

Eddie the mechanic had been firmly put out of your mind following the ruckus out in the field.

Sure, his puppy dog face had returned to you later that night as you lay in bed, but that hardly counted.

You'd forgone mentioning his tardiness to Daddy, electing to take the mild scolding instead.

By the time the end of the week had arrived, you'd just about completely forgotten the floppy haired man that had once graced the farm.

That was until Daddy rose the topic of the auto-body shop again.

He handed you the wet plate, you took it carefully - starting to wipe it down. The water sloshed beneath his hands, scrubbing hard at the soapy pan.

Bullseye watched up at you from where she was curled up on the kitchen chair, purring loudly. Outside the sky was turning deep lilac and the crickets were clicking loudly.

"Tomorrow on your way back from Madeline's, I want you to stop by Carl's."

Madeline's was the local - and only - grocer. You dropped five cases there every Tuesday.

Your hand stilled against the plate, "For?"

"I want you to ask him to spare a man, a good one. Just a couple afternoons a week to do some work."

Your father handed the next plate over carefully.

Confusion tugged at your brow, "Work? What work?"

"You're too curious for your own good, y'know that?"

Bumping your shoulder against his, the pot lid almost slipping from his wet fingers, you laughed. "Don't be difficult, what for?"

The old man sighed.

Some nights, with the evening hue seeping in through the window against his face like it was just then, you were reminded of how old he really was.

"I want to fix up the Cobra."

In the barn around the back of the house, sitting untouched and unmoved for almost twenty years, lived a 1965 AC Cobra.

The steel lid slipped from your hands, clattering against the floor. Your father jumped.

"You're fixing the Cobra!" You grabbed him by the arm, eyes wide in delight. "Is it for me?"

He offered a half-hearted stern look at you, leaning to pick up the lid before straightening out.

"Don't get too excited, she's a real piece of work and we don't know if she can even still be revived."

You tugged at the edge of his shirt, "But ... it's for me, right?"

"Well, your twenty-first is coming up and I thought you're old enough now—"

Just about strangling him, your arms flew up over his neck.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you—!"

He sighed over your shoulder, patting your back with a wet hand. “Alright, alright. Just speak to Carl.”

Your drop-off at Madeline's had never gone faster.

Town was busy, as busy as it got on a Tuesday morning, and Abernathy's was no different.

You pulled into a spot down the line of other nearly identical pick-ups to your own in front of the shop.

At the front desk, where you were sure he'd grown roots into the stool behind it, sat Carl Abernathy.

When he looked up from a piece he'd been tinkering with, surprise twisted at his features.

"G'morning darlin'," he set the piece down, puffing around a lit cigarette, "What can I do you for on this fine morning?"

"Good morning sir," you set your hat on the counter, leaning beside it. "My daddy sent me, he's asking if you could spare a man for some work 'round by ours. Couple nights a week."

The little man's eyes screwed at you.

"What, may I ask, will he be expected to do?"

By then you couldn't stifle the grin any longer.

"He's gonna be fixing the Cobra."

The response seemed to delight the man as much as it did yourself, because he laughed loudly and slammed a hand down against the wooden desk.

"Your old man finally found some sense, hey?" He jeered, "I'm mighty pleased to here that, little miss, I really am."

You smiled, "It's my birthday gift. Twenty-first coming up."

"Twenty-one, hey? Well, I've got just the boy. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it."

Carl leaned dangerously back on the stool, you fleetingly wondered how he didn't topple over, before yelling over his shoulder into the depths of the shop.

"Munson! Get your up-to-no-good-ass over here!"

Not to say that you'd completely forgotten him, but you were still more than a little taken aback when the tall framed mechanic from a few days before emerged from under the hood of a pick-up.

"Boss—?" His eyes found you. They lit up like main street over Christmas. "Oh, what a pleasant surprise. Morning, doll."

Grease covered every inch of his arms up to his elbows which held the scrunched up ends to the black long sleeve he was wearing. He was dirtier than last you saw him and it made your stomach swoop dangerously.

"Him?" It slipped out before you had time to catch it.

But Carl didn't comment on your rudeness, instead he slapped a heavy hand over Eddie's shoulder and shook it.

"For sixty's models, this is your boy for the Cobra." The older man beamed at him, like he was telling you his son was a heart surgeon. "Hands like a magician I tell you."

The comment sent a icy chill down the back of your spine, it wasn't helped when the mechanic snapped a wink at you from under his boss' hand.

"R-Right, well, you can come by as soon as you want to start working. A couple hours a day, my daddy will pay you."

With his hair clipped back, you could make a clearer assessment of his face as he nodded to you. He had thick lips and a strong-set nose.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, doll."

The cheekiness in his grin was plucking at a nerve behind your eyebrow. "Think you'll be able to find your way this time?"

"I think I'll be fine." His hands sunk into the depths of his jean pockets, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Left at the butchery and right down the road to my heart."

You scoffed, turning back to Carl. "Thanks Mr Abernathy. I'll let my old man know."

Not even sparing Eddie another glance, you grabbed your hat off the counter and turned on your heel back to the car.

He watched your hair sway under the press of the brown hat and where your wide shoulders glistened in the light beneath the straps of your overalls.

Only when the sound of your engine had disappeared down the street, did he turn back to Carl who was digging the end of a screwdriver into a metal plate.

"You're really an old romantic aren't you, boss."

Carl grumbled, waving a dismissive hand at him.

Eddie shook his head, chuckling delightedly, "Psh, "sixty's models"! As if Jacob couldn't get that Cobra running in a couple days."

Pulling another cider noisily out from the cooler he kept at his feet, Carl guffawed. "I sure hope it's gonna take you more than a few days, lover boy, cause that little miss doesn't seem too fond 'a you I can tell you now."

But Eddie wasn't fazed, "Don't worry, she will be."

Sure as the sun rose in the sky, two o' clock rolled around the next afternoon and a noisy white pick-up pulled into park in front of the green farmhouse.

"Cherry! The mech's here!"

You'd grumbled, reluctantly pulling yourself out from where you'd been perched under the cool shade of the back porch repainting worn pots.

Eddie was standing lost in the driveway when you found him.

He was dirty, obviously just from the shop, and you offered something short of a warm welcome, but he seemed unfazed.

"Car's in the barn 'round the back of the house."

"Well good afternoon to you too, miss." You wondered if his smirk had been permanently stitched there.

The toolbox rattled with each step he took after your pacing figure.

As promised, the barn stood nearly as tall as the house in a faded orange hue.

It was dark inside and the door creaked loudly where you'd swung it open.

There she sat in all her glory. The 1965 AC Cobra, in a fitting cherry red.

Eddie whistled lowly over your shoulder behind you.

"A damn shame hiding this beaut up in this dusty barn." He passed you, running his hand over the bonnet that glimmered even in the low light.

We can agree on one thing at least, you thought.

"I've got to go finish up," you motioned over your shoulder, "but, uh, if you need anything I'll be around. Just shout."

You'd already caught the edge of the door, halfway out, when his voice stopped you in your tracks.

"And what is it exactly that I should I shout, doll? Seeing as you still haven't told me your name."

You surmised him, considering only momentarily letting your name spill off your lips.

Hm. Not today.

"Doll works just fine, greenie."

Finishing off the pots was easy, quick. They stood lined up against the bannister drying while you busied yourself in the vegetable patch behind the house: twisting carrots and beetroots out from the dark soil as the sun sunk slowly lower in the sky.

The time had hardly occurred to you when the back door swung open, your father sticking his one foot down the step.

Keys to the pick-up dangled in his hand.

"Cherry, I'm running to Madeline's for some wood glue and another bag of nails. Need anything?"

Swiping an itch on your forehead with the back of your hand, wiping a long black stripe there, you shook your head. "Nothing."

"Right," he nodded and the door was already halfway shut when he tossed it open again. "Oh, and go make that boy a bite to eat. Damn skinny thing's been in that hot barn for hours now."

You sagged your shoulders childishly, voice coming out as a whine. "Must I really?"

"Yes, you must really."

And he was gone.

The fridge was a ghost town, spare for the never-ending supply of fruit and vegetable that lived in the bottom drawer.

Following five minutes of pursing your lips and staring into its depths, you conjured up a lettuce, cucumber tomato and sweet-chilli sandwich. It didn't take long to convince yourself into making another to satiate your own complaining stomach.

You hummed as you worked, pouring cool lemonade into two glasses, packing the food back into the fridge and rinsing off the butter knife.

The tall clock chimed jovially from the hallway when you shuffled out the back, two plates and two glasses in hand.

Your hip nudged open at the barn door and a wave of sweltering heat rushed over your face and between every tendril of hair on your head.

Blinking foggily into the dim sauna that was the barn, you were met with the only slightly browned back of one Eddie Munson.

The man was hunched over, head lost in the depths of the car's stomach and when he straightened out you just about swallowed your tongue.

His long black mane was in a messy ponytail at the base of his neck and his shirt had been abandoned somewhere by the right tire. Sweat was sliding down the side of his face like an open faucet.

"Hey," he smiled when he met your eyes, voice groggy and tired. The sound made the plates wobble under your grip.

"Hi—" you cringed internally, it was the most pleasant greeting you'd offered him so far. Why had it come out so ... awkward?

You motioned down to the plates, as if his eyes hadn't already found them. "I made you a sandwich ... didn't know if you were hungry or—"

The wrench flew from his grip down into the box where he tossed it and Eddie sighed. "Starving."

You handed him the plate, watching how his blackened fingers stained the edge of the plate and the rim of the glass.

He sat carefully down against an empty crate that had been abandoned by the wall, resting the glass by his feet and wiping his hands down the length of his thighs.

"Hot as hell in here." The mechanic mumbled before diving into the sandwich.

Letting his head fall back against his shoulders, he moaned loudly.

"This is fucking delicious." He commented around the mouthful.

You worked hard to swat away the blush reaching at your cheeks by nodding quickly. That sound would probably ring in your head all night.

"I should go—"

"You're not gonna eat here? I don't mind ..." Eddie eyed the sandwich you'd made for yourself in your hand, gaze flickering between the plate and your face.

Your mouth curled around a response, but you were beat to the chase.

"I know you probably mind," he interjected quickly, "but if you w-want company, I mean, you could eat here ..."

Pursing your lips, you surveyed him: long gangly legs spilling in every direction and rings clinking against the glass.

Would it really kill you to sit five minutes with him?

"No need to turn red, greenie." You resigned, kicking over another crate near the grate of the car before leaning down to perch against it. "I don't mind."

It was quiet for the first couple minutes. You focused on your sandwich, feeling his gaze flicker up to you every few minutes.

He'd practically inhaled the first half of the sandwich, but you noticed he was eating the second half slowly.

"So," he swallowed down a gulp of lemonade. "What were you busy with now before I forced you into sitting here with me?"

You picked at a cucumber that had fallen loose from your sandwich, teasing at the outer skin with your teeth.

"Very important work." Your lip curled at the corners, it seemed he noticed. "Fate of the farm depended on it. Guess now it'll have to crash and burn ..."

"Oh yeah? Enlighten me."

His amused look matched yours.

"Pulling carrots out the patch."

He leaned back, eyes widening theatrically. "Sounds exhilarating."

"You have no idea."

You bit into your sandwich again, finding the space suddenly more comfortable.

"Tell me," he pulled off a piece of tomato hanging dangerously off the edge of the sandwich, "How does a car this beautiful find it's way onto a farm in the middle of nowhere?"

Your chest pinched at the question.

"Y'know, just ..." you motioned vaguely towards the roof, "Aliens."

He caught how your gaze flickered from his to a loose bolt near your foot.

Okay, sensitive spot.

The bread was soft between Eddie's fingers, he set it down.

"I thought I saw some funny lights in the sky last night."

It was becoming almost impossible to keep his eyes off you, even for a couple seconds at a time.

You only nodded at his response, refusing to lift your gaze from the floor.

It was making his stomach churn, desperate for a couple more minutes to enjoy the view of your face.

There was a smudge of brown soil against your forehead where your hair fell over it, making his hands twitch in his lap, itching to reach out and swipe at your sun-kissed face.

"Just you and the old man then?" He pressed, reaching for his glass again.

You shrugged, "Couple creatures of the earth too. And the peaches, of course. Always the peaches."

"Peaches are good."

"No boyfriend then?"

It slipped out of him before he had chance to catch it. He'd been dying to know since the second your figure had appeared to him beyond the cloud of dust out in the field.

You took your sweet time, examining him over the rim of your glass. He couldn't tell whether you intended to respond to him at all.

The weight of your gaze was making his head spin.

"'A course I have a boyfriend. Nights on a big farm like this get lonely without someone to warm the other side of the bed. Y'know?"

Eddie's heart sunk into his stomach.

The sandwich had suddenly lost it's appeal. He set the last couple bites by his feet. He nodded slowly.

"... Can imagine."

Blood was rushing past his ears loudly, he could feel it pooling around his cheeks: warming his face with embarrassment.

"He's actually around if you want to meet him?"

"Uh—" Eddie couldn't even formulate a half of a response before your head was thrown back over your right shoulder:

"Cowboy! Baby!"

Cowboy?

There was a thick confused silence where he wasn't entirely sure who or even if anyone would march through the door - he mostly hoped that you'd been lying and nobody was coming at all.

"Baby!" You called again.

Then he heard it.

The fall of footsteps. Someone was running towards the barn and getting quickly closer.

From out of the sunshine, bounding through the door, Eddie made out the shape of the largest dog he'd ever seen.

Four long gangly legs carried him across the small space, tongue swinging over the side of his jaw: he'd appeared so quickly that Eddie didn't have a moment to prepare before the hound leapt excitedly into his lap.

"Hey, boy—!"

He toppled back over the crate and the dog licked hungrily at the sauce around the edges of his mouth, he nudged Eddie's face with his giant snout before spotting the last few bites of the sandwich left abandoned and scooped it up in one long lick.

The distraction of the food offered Eddie the opportunity to sit straight up again, he could feel the hay tangling into the depths of his hair - but the thought dissolved when he picked up the sound you were making.

You were laughing.

The sound was making him drunk, he was sure of it.

It was made worse when he looked at you: head tilted to the side, leaning at the wall and calling the dog breathlessly between giggles.

Eddie could feel the tiny birds flying in circles over his head and his pupils turning to hearts.

"Cowboy, leave the man's food!"

But the sandwich was long gone and the dog had apparently lost interest in sniffing at the empty plate, returning to licking wet stripes up the side of Eddie's face.

"Sorry, he's just a pup." Your face had softened, giggles bubbling down to a sigh. "Hasn't grown into all his manners yet."

"A pup?" Eddie mumbled in disbelief, catching Cowboy behind his ears with a tickle.

Like a magic button, the dog collapsed into a puddle by his feet: panting loudly.

"Kinda looks like your boyfriend likes me more than you."

You leaned against your knees, head shaking. "I'm feeling a little betrayed that he hasn't even looked in my direction yet."

"It's my natural charm, what can I say. Attracts animals of all species."

Scoffing loudly, you shook your head. "Keep the traitor then. We'll see how long he lasts without me feeding him spoonfuls of peanut butter under the table."

Eddie briefly wondered how big of table existed in the kitchen beyond the window of the farmhouse to fit the monstrous animal at his feet.

"Aw, then who would keep you warm on cold farm nights ..." he flashed a toothy smile, "Winter is just around the corner after all."

"Well, in that case," you tilted your head back in false concentration, lifting your hand to count on your fingers: "There's Bullseye, the cat ... Rodeo, the other cat. A couple stray dogs sometimes walk in off the fields, maybe we could adopt a goat?"

Cowboy was watching you with his head in Eddie's lap, Eddie tilted his head innocently to the side. "No one else?"

"Nope ... none that come to mind."

You were smiling at him now, mischief curled into the edges of your mouth.

It was turning his insides to a molten pool of goo.

"Is that a smile I see?" He tried his luck. "Did I make you smile? Is a comet about to hit the state of Tennessee?"

You turned your head quickly, working to wipe the expression off your face, but not entirely succeeding.

Instead you stood up.

"Whatever, greenie." Leaning down to pick up your plate, Eddie was briefly exposed to the view down the front of your dungarees. He blushed again. "Don't you have work to do?"

Crossing the space quickly, you grabbed his plate from beneath one of Cowboy's pot-sized paws before clicking your tongue at the dog.

He clambered back onto his feet like a new-born deer, clearly still not entirely sure what to do with so much leg.

"I'll see you later then, doll?"

But you didn't turn back, disappearing into the light of the sun with Cowboy trotting at your heels.

"Maybe in your dreams tonight, pretty boy."

tags:

@jokersgrf @anicosa-ironlung @sleepy-bunnie @pricelessemotion @sweetgladiatorfesival @eggo-segual @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @introvertedmouse @ctrlaltdel3te @multifandom-l0ver @inarinine @sillysteveharharhar @buckystwilight @hey-lucille

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson au

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buckybarnesss · 11 months

Note

Bro, the noise I just made. I literally cannot stand the fanon for Stiles or Derek. It is so so soooo bad, I think these people literally have only seen the 2 hour sterek compilation. Every day I am like "who fucking told you people that Derek never smiles and has no sense of humor?"

Stiles gets turned into this big eyed, kitten twink who wouldn't dare to misbehave because he's the sheriff's son (the kid who gets drunk in the WOODS, and gets his dad drunk so he can steal casefiles!!)

Derek like... He is either completely useless and cannot dress himself for a date without fanon!Laura (do not get me started) telling him what to do, or he is so emotionally repressed and damage that he can barely handle someone kissing him without him falling to pieces.

LIKE. Derek smiles. Derek makes jokes!! Derek laughed at Stiles right before the pool scene. Derek knows how to use a cellphone and a laptop. Derek is a goddamn millenial, he knows what grumpy cat is. He knows he's hot, he has a mirror!!

Also... the man lived in New York fucking City. He's not afraid of crowds or talking to people or making out, he uses sex to get his way (Erica and the deputy at the front desk!!)

i know.

like, there's a period of fics that are usually from the s1-2 period that lean pretty hard on derek's dark, brooding and grumpiness from season 1 but of course he was like that. he was going through The Horrors during season 1. he was grieving laura, he was being retraumatized by kate and dealing with scott, stiles and fucking jackson.

he wasn't one dimensional though. his anger was a mask for all the fear, confusion and trying to be in control.

do you know how many fics i've read where people have stiles think about all the apparent physical violence derek has done to stiles as if he's always slamming him into surfaces? way too many to count and it's incorrect. off the top of my head i can count 3 times derek did something like that to stiles. the shove into the wall and slam into the steering wheel in wolf's bane both of which had a point to them. whether or not it was a good emotional response doesn't matter. what matters is that they were not random or part of derek's personality. he didn't just shove stiles into things every time he saw him. the wall shove in s4 with de-aged derek was a deliberate call back to that very instance in wolf's bane. it was literally coupled with the whole cousin miguel bit.

fandom doesn't like to acknowledge that derek hale isn't particularly violent over the course of the show. he hardly even wins the fights he engages in and he is often forced into fights knowing he cannot win.

our boy mostly ends up on the fucking floor.

derek also does make jokes. dry ones usually he thinks they are hilarious too. he thinks he's a funny guy. his dad joke game must've been off the charts, sorry eli.

he and stiles trade barbs a lot and he thinks stiles is funny. stiles amuses him and he indulges it a few times. he shows off to stiles too like a loser.

he likes to fuck with scott and stiles and enjoys taking the piss out of peter. he genuinely enjoyed fucking with liam in s4.

he's not a luddite either. he has a cellphone and we see him use it. i bet he plays games on it. i bet he plays candy crush and words with friends.

and fanon evolved to strip away that stiles is an asshole. he a violent little freak. he threatens people, he expresses regularly his desire to kill people or have them die, he cares about a very small selection of people in his life and if you're not in that circle than god be with your ass because stiles most definitely won't.

he loves and respects his father but this doesn't mean stiles respects the law which is why i don't know why the law enforcement route was chosen for him. stiles hates rules and boundaries. he chafes at them.

stiles casually helps kira and scott break into evidence to get her cell phone. he tells scott's fbi agent father to fuck himself. he got his dad drunk to get access to case files. he copies people's keys. he's a nosy shit.

the whole show started because stiles was a nosy punk kid who wanted to see a dead body.

but i digress.

fanon stiles had a lot of scott's characteristics projected onto him so they could bash scott. i know there's a lot of people who don't like scott which is fine or whatever but there are so many that do it so they can make a pinata out of a character they've extracted all the good points from and give to their favorite little white boy fav.

stiles "i will beat you with a bat" stilinski is a freaky little shit who will bite you.

do you know how hard i laughed when in s3 stiles and isaac genuinely just like could not stand each other? they couldn't be in the same room with out insulting one another and it was the complete opposite of stiles being oh so sensitive to isaac's past and history than straight up in 3b stiles the epitome of insensitive says to isaac something about still milking it (his abuse). stiles is a dick.

i also genuinely have umbrage with the pack mom trope that stiles gets saddled with. the way fandom has oft feminized stiles leaves a bad taste in my mouth too.

derek and stiles are both assholes and i love them very much.

#my blog #teen wolf #thoughts on teen wolf #sterek #derek hale

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stylesparker · 9 months

Text

dead man walking

PAIRING: Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT: 5k

WARNINGS: language, kidnapping, torture, graphic violence, hurt/comfort, sort of asshole!joel, protective!ellie, please let me know if I missed anything!

The lights that hung above you in your cell flickered again for the seventh time in the past twenty minutes. A new guard walks by and shakes hands with the woman who’s been watching you as of yesterday; they exchange a couple of words, take a glance at you, and snicker as one leaves and one takes the others place on the wooden chair.

You huff in your cold corner of the cell and burrow deeper into yourself, looking away so maybe you can forget that you’re here at all and not at home.

The memory of being torn out of sleep and out of your bed by cruel and harsh hands plagues your mind. The laughter that spilled from their lips when you screamed and kicked and scratched, but to no avail. You can only imagine the image created for Ellie when she came home from her night patrol early in the morning; bed sheets and pillows thrown on the floor torn and shredded, scratch marks all the way down the hallway from your fingernails, picture frames knocked off the walls and broken on the floor, particularly of Ellie. You don’t want to imagine how she might feel, the dread that she might have lost another person in her life with no goodbye.

You do everything you can not to cry.

“What’s the matter with you, stay quiet!” The new guard, a scruffy looking male with blonde hair tied into a bun, bangs the metal bars that hold you inside.

Despite your better judgement, you respond with, “What are you gonna do if I don’t, shoot me?”

He chuckles and turns away from you, “If it were up to me, I’d do much worse.”

That scares you more than you wish it did, so you stay quiet the rest of the night. Your mind wouldn’t let you rest, so you didn’t get a wink of sleep; but the asshole watching you did. As you watched him sleep, you imagined getting out of here somehow, taking him out before he could even know what hit him, and getting back to Ellie before she could even worry. Unfortunately, that wasn’t in your cards, so you huffed and tried to fall asleep.

...

“Damn, I cannot believe how much weed we found!” Dina laughs loudly.

“Yeah, I swear I haven’t found that much since that snowstorm with Y/N,” Ellie smiles at the thought.

Ellie and Dina trudge across the gravel towards the house you share with the two girls and Jesse. As much as Ellie wanted a house to you and herself alone, she had to admit it was fun living with her two closest friends as well; only when they weren’t getting it on in the middle of the night that is.

“God, I remember that day. When you finally grew some balls an-”

“Oh shut up, we were a thing before that!”

“You sure about that? If I recall correctly, you had only thought that-”

Ellie shoved her arm, “Do I really have to beat you to shut your damn mouth?”

“Ya’ know, I’d love that-”

The two friends got their argument shut down as soon as they approached the porch steps of the house; a terrified looking Jesse barges out the door.

“Dude, what the hell-!” The girls say in unison, but immediately stiffen at Jesses next words.

“She’s gone.”

“What the fuck do you mean she’s gone.” Ellie shoves him aside, ignoring his pleas not to go inside. Her eyes scan the house frantically, her body moving before she could even think, checking every room and only finding more terror.

“Oh my god.” Dina’s face looks like she can’t even fathom what happened, and Jesse is only staring at Ellie. She’s gone rigid, a stone cold look appearing in her eye as she catches sight of the smashed up picture frames, the scratches on the walls, and he knows she’s flipped the switch. They don’t argue and only follow Ellie as she storms out of the house, an aura of rage surrounding her as she went.

“We know who did this right?” Dina asks.

“Yeah, we know alright,” Ellie responds harshly, “and we’re gonna kill those sons of bitches like we should’ve.”

…

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“Ah shit,” you mutter, abruptly pulled out of your sleep (once again). Your hand flies to your face to cover the bright sun burning directly into your eyes.

“Wakey, wakey!” You hear laughter and rude mutterings coming from outside your cell. You can only imagine the state you must be in right now, but you open your eyes and examine your kidnappers in front of you.

Three guys and two girls, all standing there staring at you.

“What the hell do you want.” You try asserting a dominating tone, but you don’t think it comes across as bossy as you would have hoped.

“What do we want?” The blonde dude who was watching you last night laughs at that, and is quickly followed by the rest of them. “Sweetheart-”

“Don’t fucking call me that.” You snap.

He chuckles, crouching to the floor on the other side of the bars.

“Okay, honey. What we want... is a nice chat.”

You glare at them, “The fuck for?”

“Ellie Williams.” One of the girls behind him says. You think it was the redhead one, but you’re not quite sure. The other girl, the brunette, stands there leaning against the wall.

Ellie? You think. What does she have to do with this?

You huff out a laugh as best you can, “Right, and you think I’m gonna tell you anything?”

Blondie smiles, “I know you will. And you wanna know how I know that?”

You glare and don’t say a word.

“Because I know you know who I am.” Suddenly, he pulls his sweatshirt over his head and throws it to the floor. You watch him in confusion as he pulls his sleeve up and up… and…

Oh shit.

“Yeah. You know who I am.” He smiles, but this one, this one is not like the last one. It scares you so deep to your core, you almost try to flatten yourself to the wall behind you to somehow get even farther from him. “I know she would have told you. I’m glad I was right.”

“You attacked them, I don’t blame her for what she did.”

“You’re gonna talk about blame?” He hits the bars and it makes you flinch. “They came through our territory!”

“How the fuck were they supposed to know! They didn’t do shit to you until you fired on them!”

He rolls his eyes, “They knew. They saw the sign.”

“Right, like a damn sign was gonna stop them. For all they knew, the place was abandoned and that sign was years old!”

“Doesn’t matter.” A cold, dark look comes over his eyes. “Williams cut off my arm,” he gestures to the ugly scarring in the middle of his arm, with clusters of risen scar tissue on the edge of it. It looks atrocious, you wonder how he was even able to reattach it, much less use his arm for that matter.

“Well it looks like you got over that.” You mutter, but the look doesn’t leave his eye.

“And she killed my girl.”

His hands reach above him to grab onto the bars to pull him up. He stalks over to the door of the cell and unlocks it, swinging it open. His friends stiffen in anticipation.

“And now I’m gonna kill you.”

...

Joel, Tommy, and Maria were made known of your… disappearance, shortly after the others. Joel had immediately sent out a search party, but he knew what Ellie really wanted.

“No, that’s not gonna happen.”

“Joel, she’s fucking out there, I’m not sitting here-!”

“And I’m not letting you go out there! You know why they took her, right? You do realize why this happened?”

Ellie quickly straightens, mind shutting down at even the thought of it, and Dina and Jesse behind her stand to attention.

“Hey!” Dina marches up to Joel, “don’t bring that shit up. You know how hard that was.”

“Her killing that girl led to this, she has to know that-”

Dina yells, “I think she’s fucking well aware of that, Joel! And I think you should be too since she saved your damn life!”

He quiets, “Yeah, and now she’s gone.” He walks away, leaving the building as Tommy and Maria come in. They look behind them to watch Joel leave, but they walk over to the others, stopping in front of Ellie, who’s looking down at the floor.

“I know you want to go, kid, I would too, but I don’t know if it’s such a good idea. You’re gonna be their main target.” Tommy rests his hand on her shoulder, but she’s quick to shove it off.

“That’s kind of the point.”

“Ellie-”

“I don’t care,” Her voice rises, “I’m getting her back, and nobody’s stopping me.” She marches out the way they came, and Dina and Jesse sigh, following close behind her.

“Dina!” Maria calls. She whips her head back to look at her. “Watch out for her alright? Make sure she comes back with her head.”

Dina nods, “I think she plans to come back with much more than that.”

…

You scream a sharp cry of pain, whimpering at the harsh sting of the knife gliding across your skin. Your bra is soaked in blood since your shirt had been torn open so he could slice your collarbones, and you can feel the cool drip of it hitting your thighs. You lean your head back and whine, forcing yourself not to cry out again as the knife drags down the side of your arm.

“Dave, are you sure we can’t be done with her yet?” Molly, the redhead, asks. When you lean your head up just a bit through blurry tears and blood from your hairline, you see the horrified looks of the others surrounding him. As horrified as they are, they’re still sickly enjoying it, which makes you even more terrified.

“No,” he coldly replies, “we’re not done until I say we’re done.” You earn another punch across the face, you spit out the blood in your mouth onto your lap, coughing as you catch your breath.

“You’ve- you’ve made your point,” you said roughly, your voice cracking as you say it. “Just end me for gods sake, man.”

“Heh,” he chuckles, “you’d like that, huh? A swift end to your suffering? Well that’s not gonna happen, bitch.” The knife glides across the flesh of your stomach, causing you to scream out in pain again.

The brunette speaks up this time, “I know you want her to suffer, but… Daisy didn’t suffer dude. You’ve gotten your revenge, let’s just end it and get out of here before she gets here.”

“I plan on her being here.”

The group stiffens in horror.

“WHAT?!” They all shout, immediately starting to panic.

“You’re shitting me man-”

“We’re gonna fucking die.”

“She’s probably already on her way here with their shit ton of guns!”

“You think she’s just gonna let this go? You fucking tore up her girlfriend, man!”

“Y/N here was just the start of it, I’m ending her tonight.” You start fighting against the ropes confining your legs and hands after he said that.

“Ohhhh!” He laughs loudly, “Did I say something that bothered you, sweetheart?”

“You’re not gonna fucking touch her!” You snarl, spitting blood in his face.

He wipes it off, leaning his hands on his knees as he gets real close to your face. “I don’t think you’re gonna do much from this position, girl. You’re gonna sit here and watch as Williams comes in here and attempts to save you..” he says condescendingly, “and you’re gonna see the life leave her eyes as I slit her throat.”

You glare menacingly at the man, yelling at him and fighting to rip out of your chair, but he ignores you, and so do the others as they leave your room. You yell for hours, but it weakens you, and eventually, you become too tired and succumb to black nothingness.

...

"This is it," Ellie says, looking back at Dina and Jesse.

"How do you know?" Jesse asks, walking up beside her.

"Because, I recognize the building. Let's go!" She snaps quietly, waving her hand for them to follow her. They trek sneakily through the grass right up against the side of the building, and Jesse watches behind them to make sure no one is following. Sneaking out of Jackson wasn't hard, but they're very aware their absence has probably already been noticed, especially since Ellie didn't exactly hide the fact this was her plan in the first place.

The three crouch even lower when they hear voices coming through the open window right above them. Dina, being in the middle, throws her hands over the other two so they don't pop up too early and get themselves caught.

"Cool it. Let's not make ourselves known until we've at least gotten her out of there, yeah?" Ellie grumbles and Jessie just nods. "Good. Now, the five that were with the girl are most likely in there, one of them the boyfriend, so they're gonna be on our asses ready to kill. Shoot if you have to, but remember, the goal is getting Y/N out, not killing everyone-"

"This isn't going to end until they're dead, Dina," Ellie says, "I'm gonna do whatever it takes, and if that means everyone in that building dies, so be it." Without warning, she throws her gun behind her on her back and pushes herself over the wall into the awaiting room of the building.

"Well, guess we're goin' then." Jessie mutters. Dina huffs in response but is quick to follow her inside, Jessie right behind her.

Once they enter the building, they're able to hear some of the voices more clearly. The room contains two doors, both completely open, so the chance of getting caught is slightly greater now. Ellie signals two coming from the right, and two coming from the left, so Dina and Jessie split to take each side. Ellie lets Jessie take the lead into the next room, and waits until Dina is out of sight to make her next move. Once she's in the room once over, she realizes how big this room is, and Jessie is already on the other side near the two men, watching them in case they hear Ellie. Neither of them are him.

To the left, there's a long, straight hallway with what seems to be cells, with all the bars and all. Right as she's about to uncover herself, a shot rings out through the building and women start screaming.

Dina.

The men look at each other quickly and take off for the door she just entered. Jessie springs up from his spot and starts shooting at them, hitting his mark as they both crumple to the ground with bullets in their legs.

"Go!" Jessie yells at Ellie, and she takes off for the hallway. She pushes so hard her legs feel like they're gonna give out, but she ignores it and grits her teeth, determined to find you. Hopefully unharmed.

But she knows better though. She killed his girlfriend. If it were the other way around, and he killed you, she wouldn't have let that bitch live for another minute. She forces it out of her mind when she catches a sliver of your hair as she nearly passes up your cell. Ellie suddenly halts, backing up to run to your door. She struggles with the lock for a moment, but she quickly takes her gun to repeatedly jam it into the lock so it breaks apart. Once she throws the door open, she's next to you in a second, softly placing her hands on your face so you lift your head.

She hears you grumble and she sighs with relief. You're not dead.

"Hey, baby, I'm here. Let's get you outta' here yeah?" She talks quietly, nearly a whisper so you barely hear her, but you feel her hands on your skin so you start squirming.

"No no no, stop, please-"

"It's Ellie. It's Ellie, baby, you're okay." Your eyes open slightly, and tears start to fall against your face. You whimper and slump forward once the ropes are off your wrists, not able to keep yourself up. You whisper her name and she nods, taking your arms to wrap them around her neck before she picks you up to cradle you against her chest. "Yeah, me. Ellie. I'm here now. You're gonna be okay."

Your face nudges her shoulder as you dig yourself deeper into her embrace, and once you're settled she turns and runs out of the cell with you now in her arms.

She makes it half way back down the hallway when she hears a click.

A gun click.

"Stop."

She closes her eyes shut and huffs out a breath, letting her head fall back towards the ceiling. Shit.

"Turn around."

As slowly as she can, she spins around to face him, making eye contact as soon as she lifts her gaze from the ground. Surprisingly, he's smirking.

"You're here. Finally." He forces a laugh, "What took you so long? Figured you'd be here hours ago."

Ellie ignores the comment and stays quiet, glaring at him menacingly.

"What, no excuse? Alright." He shakes his head, and starts shaking the gun in his hand, pointing it in her direction. "You know who I am, right?"

"I know who you are."

He smiles, throwing his hands up, "Good! Good, that's great. I'm glad." He huffs out another laugh, but it's cut short when he drops the facade and his face turns daunting. "You know my name?"

"Your name doesn't mean shit." Ellie says.

"Dave. You should know since... you should always be able to put a name to the face who's about to ruin your whole damn life." Ellie's face doesn't change, but she starts to worry. She doesn't know what she's gonna do with you if she has to fight. "I know your name, Ellie. I know... your name, where you live," he starts to count off his fingers, "who you love, who was here that night, I know everything about you."

"Aw, how sweet."

"Yeah, joke about it now. You're not gonna be laughing when I blow your brains out."

"Does it look like I'm laughing?" Ellie lifts her chin, keeping her head high. "I know what I did, Dave. You should have taken me, this had nothing to do with her-"

"Oh, Ellie, but it did!" He interrupts. "It did because you wanna' know why? She's your girl. You took mine, I took yours. End of story."

Ellie grunts. "She was gonna kill someone who was important to me. It was either her or him."

"Blah, blah, blah, I don't care. Daisy was important to me, and you killed her."

"Daisy didn't suffer! You tortured her!" Ellie screamed.

"I suffered, Ellie. You would've done the same." He keeps his voice leveled. "We're the same you and I."

"Maybe. The only difference is that I'm gonna walk out of here alive and you're gonna be dead."

You don't see much of it. One minute you were in her arms and the next you were slumped against the wall watching her bang his head against the ground five times. At first she had the upper hand, but when she stopped, he threw his head back and slammed it hard on her nose. You heard her groan, you heard him scream, but your eyes were sort of blurry and it was so hard to lift your head.

You don't know how long you're there, it could have been a minute or an hour, but they don't stop, they never stop.

When you're able to see a little better, you see him pressing her body against the bars with an arm over her throat, choking her. She gasps for air and her hands are pushing his shoulders, but he doesn't give. You whimper on the ground as you try to move, but you just fall to your side on the floor.

"She's mine, now."

"Like hell." She sputters out. She shoves her thumbs up and into his eyes, digging her nails in causing him to scream in pain and let her go. She knees him in the crotch and watches him collapse to the floor. He groans, holding himself on the floor as Ellie towers over him.

He lifts his head to glare at her, but then he screams, "Just kill me!"

"Gladly." She whips out the gun from her belt behind her and shoots him point blank between the eyes. His head smacks the ground and his body twitches before it stops and lies motionless. Ellie stares at him for a second before her head snaps to you, lying on the ground in a crumpled sort of position and she runs to you, lifting your head to look at you properly.

"Baby, you there? You okay?"

Loud boots are heard stomping down the hallway and Ellie lifts her gun, prepared to shoot again before she realizes it's just Dina and Jessie. They come to a stop, breathing hard from their fight, but they still when they see you on the ground. Their eyes change from shock to horror, but Ellie doesn't pay attention.

"They all dead?" Ellie asks as she grabs you and cradles you in her arms again.

"Yeah..." Dina breathes, and Jessie nods. Even though you're leaning on Ellie's shoulder, you can still see them holding hands, and it makes you smile.

"Good. Let's go."

...

"It was reckless!"

"But she's here isn't she? We got her back!"

"You put her at risk-"

"She was already at risk, Joel! She was being tortured, it really couldn't have gotten much worse than that!"

"-and you three put your lives at risk, Ellie!-"

Their voices get louder and louder as you start to wake up and gain consciousness. You almost couldn't tell who it was at first when you began to slowly blink your eyes open, but as you listened to more and more of what they were arguing about, it was pretty clear who it was.

You feel the softness of a couch beneath you, and a pair of jeans rubbing against your ear. You already know it's Dina who has your head in her lap, the gentle rub on your arm giving it away. Without hinting to Dina that you're awake yet, you look around the room to see who's with you. You're in Tommy and Maria's living room; Tommy and Maria reside in the corner on a chair together, Jessie sits on the arm at the other end of the couch, and other than Dina, it's just Joel and Ellie that's left. They all look defeated and grave as they sit and listen to their argument, one that you're starting to comprehend.

You guess you were doing a bit too much shifting around because suddenly Dina's hand stops moving and her head comes into view.

"Guys, shut up, I think she's waking up!"

All of a sudden, all the attention in the room is on you, and you rub your eyes as you sit up, making it seem like you didn't just hear part of their conversation. Ellie's face lights up and she moves from across the room to kneel in front of you, helping you and Dina sit you up from your laid down position.

"Hi, baby, how you feelin'?" Ellie's soft voice is comforting to your ears, so different from how she sounded two seconds ago.

"Hi," you rasp, clearing your throat so you don't sound so hoarse, "I'm okay, I think. What time is it?"

"It's a little after 8 o'clock," she says, "do you want something to eat? Or do you want water?"

You nod your head, "I'll take some water."

"I'll get it for you." Jessie says, leaving the room to get you a glass. You look around and examine their faces, and the way they're looking at you starts to make you feel overwhelmed.

"What? You're looking at me like I'm a ghost or something." You chuckle halfheartedly to yourself, but none of them laugh with you. Ellie grips your hand, bringing your attention to her for a moment, and it's then that you notice how much emotion is being held in features as she stares at you. You can tell she wants to cry, but she holds it in her chest, shoving it down deep, so it doesn't bubble up in front of everyone. You grip back as hard as you can.

Nobody talks until Jessie gets back. He hands the glass of water to you with a gentle smile, rubbing your shoulder gently as he passes by and sits next to you on the couch. You awkwardly take small sips as they sit and stare, watching you, as if you're gonna fall or die on the spot or something. After about five minutes, you couldn't take it anymore.

"Okay, is someone going to say something, or are we all just going to sit here and stare at me?"

Ellie hides her laugh a little bit, breaking the silence, and Joel gives her a look.

"You've been through a lot, why don't you go get some rest?" Joel suggests. You want to make a comment about his and Ellie's argument, but you hold back for now. That can be hashed out in the morning, for now, you'd rather go lay in bed with Ellie.

Just as you think about going home, you remember what happened there and what the house must still look like. There's no way Ellie even went back into the house after seeing it, much less to clean it, from what you can assume she probably left right away. You look at Ellie, and she's already speaking, and lending you a hand to stand up.

"We're gonna stay here tonight, Tommy and Maria offered us a room. Just so everyone can stay together." She gives you a tight-lipped smile, and you know as soon as you get to the bedroom and you're alone, she'll probably tell you more.

"No problem, I'd like that. Thank you guys."

"Of course, honey. Get some rest, we'll see you in the morning." Maria offers a kind smile. Then her, Tommy, and Joel leave the room and head to the kitchen where they start a small, quiet conversation with themselves.

"Thanks for... everything," You turn to Dina and Jessie, giving their hands a squeeze, "I don't really know what else to say."

"You don't have to say anything, babe. You know we got you." Dina pulls you into a tight embrace, and Jessie follows suit, wrapping his lanky arms around the both of you.

"Yeah, you know we got your back. Even against crazy psycho cults." Jessie adds. Ellie and Dina give him the most point blank stare you've ever seen, and it makes you laugh, maybe a little too hard because you wince and hold your ribs.

"Stop, Jessie, you're making me laugh." He smiles, giving your head a rub and messing your hair up even more.

"Okay, let's go." Ellie grabs your hand and wraps her other arm around your waist as she leads you up the stairs, while you give Dina and Jessie one last smile. Once they're out of sight and you guys are up the stairs, you finally let yourself lean into Ellie and let her take your weight. You didn't realize how much pain you were in until now, but you think the shock of seeing everyone again all of a sudden must have just worn off. "I got you baby, we're almost there." Ellie says into your ear, giving you a kiss on the side of your head as you make it to the top of the stairs.

She sets you on the bed before going back to close the door, giving you a once over as soon as she's standing in front of you again. You offer your arms out, and she steps closer, letting your face fall into her stomach and your hands come up to wrap around her body. She feels your sigh of relief almost instantly, and it makes her cup your head and lean into you as close as she possibly can.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart." She whispers.

"For what?" You look up at her.

"I should have been there. I shouldn't have left you that morning-"

"Ellie, you were on patrol, you couldn't have known-"

"It was still too soon after everything that happened. I didn't want to leave you in the first place and I shouldn't have." She's shaking her head, eyes closed, and her hands in a fist with your shirt enclosed in them. You know no matter what you say, she won't listen to it, so you just rub her sides.

"You saved me, Els. I'm home because of you." She nods her head and glances down at you, cupping your cheeks.

"I would have never stopped until you were."

You nod back, "I know." You pull her down so your faces are level and kiss her, taking her by surprise. Of course, she returns the kiss, and it's so soft, so comforting, familiar and safe.

Ellie changes into sweats and a t-shirt quickly so she can help you get into your clothes, which is the exact same thing as she's wearing, and get you under the covers faster. Once you both are changed, she holds up the blankets so you can slide under, and once you're settled you let your head hit the pillow and close your eyes. You breathe deeply, calming your heart, and trying to force your mind to settle down. Ellie's arms snake around you, pulling you close to her chest.

"I'm never leaving you again."

You smile, and kiss right above her collarbone where your head is resting against her chest.

"I don't doubt it."

#the title has no particular meaning I just thought it was cool lmao #i guess you can say dave was the dead man walking #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams #the last of us

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