#sierra's there too technically | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr posted its first advertisements in May 2012 and subsequently earned $13M in revenue.

#sierra's there too technically

nress · 1 month

Text

sorry i've been so dead art block is blocking rn but I come bearing offerings in the form of designs for a noco superhero au

+ a couple of interaction ideas

I havent thought that much about lore except for the fact that cody probably has some really cool powers, there's a secret big bad that framed Noah and they kiss idk

Def gonna come back to this once I get my groove back (and answer a couple things in my inbox lol)

#total drama #td noah #td cody #noco #superhero au #hero cody #villain noah #sierra's there too technically #and Duncan by shsh #*proceeds to disappear off the face of the planet for two weeks*

45 notes · View notes

matchbet-allofthetime · 1 month

Text

Sobbing in bed because I'm writing a Ulysses fic and I'm caught between him killing the Courier because they are willfully giving up all the people they love and all the good they've done in the Mojave and he wanted them dead and gone-

And him just telling them they don't belong in the Divide with him. Not them, not their soft heart.

"You need to go home," Ulysses would say.

The courier would just laugh.

"Go home, Courier," they mumble. "Your signs. I have them all marked on my Pip-Boy. I don't even know why, but I mark all of the ones I find."

They traverse the Divide KNOWING Ulysses will kill them.

They take off their armour and keep only their finest, best combat knife and a gun on them with enough ammo to get them to Ulysses and to give him a third bullet to put in their skull alongside the two from Benny.

They offer him their knife, their gun, and the option for him to kill them with his bare hands.

Willingly. Selflessly. Painfully.

"I could never hate you, Ulysses. Not for this, never for this. I will never be mad at you for this."

And he's caught.

They're a godsend to this place, so much good they've done.

Does he kill them? Or does he bridge the Divide?

Maybe they go home. Maybe he kills them.

And maybe, after everyone back home knows they're okay... Maybe they do belong here, in the Divide, with Ulysses.

#im actually fucking full-blown sobbing #i hate angst. why do i write it so much??? i make myself cry every time #ulysses fnv #fallout new vegas #fnv #f:nv #fallout #lonesome road #ulysses x courier #technically #it's romantic and heartbreaking and i want my courier to give their life for him and for ot to bresk him #because for all he CAN handle... he cannot handle taking their life #not when theyve listened to all his tapes. been on all the same journeys through all the same hellish places like the Big MT and-#the Sierra Madre too. they listened to his words. and now that theyre here they offer their life.#offer to die however he sees fit throat bare for him to snap and sink his teeth into until he tastes blood and eats at flesh-#and he can't . he can't and he doesynt want to and he'd never want to.#grips their wrist where they hold the blade of their knife- and kisses the before he thinks. he doesnt think with them. he cant.#sobbing.

20 notes · View notes

that-one-xachster · 7 days

Text

Megumi x Childhood Bestie!Reader Hcs part two

ok I'm continuing this lmfao

so lets get to the part after go/joe kidnaps itadori

and you're just chilling with megumi in his room questioning all life choices

and he's questioning life itself

"crabs probably think fish can fly"

"...what did you eat today"

"tuna mayo"

"istg if you pull the Inumaki crap-"

"bean bags are boneless sofas"

"wHaT"

"...I want a beanbag."

*audibly sighs*

so yeah very fun

and you have a sleepover with him bc like

why not

and drama

so let's say todays that very special once in a lifetime day that you fall asleep INSTANTLY

and like just boom "I'm tired" you're knocked out

and megumi's just there like "gurl??"

my bro is absolutely done cause you're like taking up most of his bed

and personal space

give the man a break 😔✋

so he tries shoving you a lil to the side

keyword: tries

but you're a stubborn person so you don't budge

also you're gripping the bed for dear life in your sLEEP-

you haven't grown out of it lmao

megumi pulls his iconic face and is just

absolutely done at this point

so-

he's known you since childhood anyway right

and you're asleep right

right

so you won't mind if he just plops on top of you and cuddle-spoons you while your sleeping to create space right 😊

just to create space

you don't mind even when you're awake but megumi doesn't know that-

so yes he lies on top of you- wraps an arm around your waist- and spoons you while he falls asleep-

im giggling squealing kicking my feet writing this don't mind me

so yes he's still spooning you while you're asleep-

and in the morning he wakes up first ehe-

bc sleep = none or sleep = all

"all's well thats well for me"

iykyk

but you're still sleeping

and its like 7:30 am

its too early for this shit

so he just stays in bed cuddling you

and boom half an hour later you wake up

but you pretend to be sleeping heh

why

plot

so you two are technically cuddling rn and then my bro realizes that your awake-

and hes like

"oh good morning"

yeah we're totally gonna gaslight

"good morning to you too"

we're gonna keep up the gaslighting

so you turn around and you're facing megumi and you're like what time is it he's like 8:30 am or sum

so you both get up bleh the boring stuff

AND THIS IS THE MOMENT WHERE ITADORI IS GETTING SHOWN HIS ROOM SO-

YOU SEE WHERE THIS IS GOING

so then megumi walks out of the room but you're still inside cause why not

and then itadori and megumi have some bro talk and you just pop up behind megumi-

itadori sHRIEKS

gojos like 'did u two have a sleepover 😼'

and megumi ofc is like 'why do you care'

and itadori goes-

GASPPP ARE YOU TWO DATING???

the way your faces heat up so fast

FACES

WITH AN S

PLURAL

MEGUMI'S BLUSHING TOO

and hes like 'what the f no i'm not dating this idiot here'

you're like 'i wish 😔'

tHE WAY HE BLUSHES HARDER

no this does not go unnoticed by gojo and he whips out his phone faster than lightning mcqueen and bombards him with pictures

'smile for the camera megumi~'

'boy if you don't shut your skin tone chicken bone google chrome no home flip phone disowned ice cream cone garden gnome extra chromosome metronome dimmadome genome full blown monochrome student loan Indiana jones overgrown flintstone x and Y chromosome hormone friend zone Sylvester Stallone Sierra loan autozone professionally seen silver patrone head ass up-'

yes I had to

anyway y'all gotta go pick up the other first year aka nobara

and you're like

"OOH OOH GOJO SENSEI BOY OR GIRL"

"hehe you'll see"

so you make all of them speed to wherever the hell yer picking her up

idt I mentioned you slept in the car and your head was on megumis shoulder eheh

itadori kept teasing him and won't let him live it down fr

so yk nobara and her iconic scene

you have no shame

and you drink your respect women juice

im trying to make this gender neutral 😭

you see the uniform and you're cheering her on so much like

"WOO YEAHHH- PUT HIM IN HIS PLACE YOU GO GIRL-"

and shes like tf is this crazy bish doing

but you're just really excited to have another person in the group cause being around the same uh 7-8 people can get boring

so you meet her and you're pretty excited

"be glad boys, you're getting another girl in the group."

now that drops your opinion

so you have a smol idea

to uh

you whisper something in her ear and the wAY HER EXPRESSION DROPS

guess what you said <3 bc ik ofc I wanna see what y'all think

anyhoo so then shes like WHAT THE HELL and drops it

and boom you pull your feminine/masculine/nonbinary wiles and she's now your bestie

and gojo says we're going sOmEwHeRe

and nobara and itadori get so excited

yk the EJWRHTKWJEHTAUIETHR and the hugging gojo

you're standing next to megumi though cause you know whats coming

the way their face drops when y'all go to that messed up school- was it a school?

anyway yuji and nobara go in and you're outside with megumi and gojo

y'all are sitting down nearby

you're tired af with this shit so you just plop your head down in megumi's lap and no questions he just lets you

and hes running his fingers through your HAIRRRRR

*screaming*

so you have some lovey-dovey time and gojo sneaks a picture cause he low-key ships you two

and after the two come out y'all just walk back very nice day

okay moving on from the boring stuff he goes back to his dorm

is developing a crush ehe

so hes just lying in bed thinking like

WHY TF AM I FEELING THIS WAY OVER THAT IDIOT RAHHHH

poor guys conflicted

but good for you hehe

sigh I'm tired ill write a part 3 later lmao

#megumi #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #megumi is still an icon #he needs to sort out his feelings though #cmon man you like her

59 notes · View notes

cairavende · 7 months

Text

Worm Arc 11 thoughts (pre-interludes):

Taylor's dad sees his daughter for the first time since she ran away. Since the fucking Endbringer attack! And literally says the line "“I need to go handle this" about a fucking work thing. No Danny. You do not NEED TO HANDLE THIS. God damn. It is fucking hard to be a co-parent for Taylor when I'm the only one doing any parenting!

Speaking of parenting - Taylor, you really should get some therapy. That was a pretty detailed level of fucked up nightmare you had. I love you and just want you to take care of yourself.

Skitter just like "all right, for day 1 I'm going to gain complete fucking control over my territory and establish myself as an unkillable bug goddess". And then she worries if she is doing enough!

Seriously though, letting that guy stab her and counting on her costume to block the knife? Fucking baller move. Also stupidly risky. So pretty much on point for my wonderful but stress inducing bug daughter.

And then she just sits in her chair drinking tea while she destroys two groups of Merchants? Doesn't just beat them, but absolutely terrorizes them. Lights one of them on fire with their own matches! WITH BUGS! I love her so much.

She also gained two minions as a side bonus to controlling her territory. And ensured their loyalty and dedication to her.

For real. Sierra would take a bullet. She'd die for Taylor. But Charlotte? Charlotte would kill for Taylor.

The speech Taylor gave Charlotte when giving her the options "leave town" or "work for me" was so well done! Came across as incredibly fair so Charlotte couldn't complain, but also just tied her in a little bundle all nice and neat. Set her up to want to work for you. Very nicely done. Taylor clearly has been learning from Lisa.

We're just pretty much giving up on that whole secret identity thing huh? It just started cascading out of control quite quickly. I don't expect Taylor and Skitter to be different people for much longer.

Lisa and Taylor went to a party together! A shitty villain party that was dangerous and almost killed them. But villain prom is villain prom. GAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!

Just a number of good Chatterbug (Smugbug) moments here.

Lisa has a MURDER WALL! AAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! I love her so fucking much and I will just sit in there with her working on the murder wall for hours. (She isn't trying to solve a murder so I know it isn't technically a murder wall, but it's a murder wall cause that's the best name.)

Fucking Bryce. Sure went through a lot of trouble for that asshole.

Skidmark just doing a thunderdome up in here. Some people use their powers for cool things and others build a fence.

Also really not seeming to do great for loyalty. Like ya you get a cape or two out of it but it left everyone in your gang not trusting anyone else.

I love everyone in Faultline's crew. Newter was my favorite but Shamrock may have beaten him out. I always loved Domino and Shamrock gives the same vibe.

Newter got a few good Nightcrawler like moments here too which was fun (grabbing things with his tail, talking to people from weird perches).

God DAMN Labyrinth is powerful. Like I knew she was but getting to see it. Holy shit. That was so fucking cool. Literal goddess of reality right here.

I'm really excited to learn more about Cauldron and the superhero in a can stuff. Very Weapon X with the memory wiping and such. (I'm just really on an X-men comparison thought process right now I guess)

Taylor "I'm not a skilled combatant" Hebert over here as she dual wields knives and successfully fights off multiple people, most bigger than her, while specifically using non-lethal attacks on them. Taylor that isn't what "not skilled" means!

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD CHILD, STOP GETTING HIT IN THE HEAD! I WORRY!

Seeing the trigger event thing was really cool. I don't think the fact that any cape near a trigger event appears to almost pass out has been mentioned before. Obviously in universe know one would know anything beyond them appearing to stumble, but still. And we got to see more of the higher dimension beings. We in Flatland now.

Oh god there is so much more I think I'm missing huge amounts. AHHH!!!

Oh, this is important. While describing Mush Taylor says "He bore a resemblance to a particular pink skinned, scrawny goblin of a creature from those fantasy movies." That open endedness of that context made me decide she must be talking about The Goblin King in Labyrinth. David Bowie. But to keep things simple, since it might seem like she is talking about Gollum, I decided that on Earth Bet David Bowie played Gollum in the Lord of the Rings movies. This is canon as far as I am concerned.

That does also mean Mush looks at least a little bit like David Bowie.

#Worm #Worm Web Serial #Parahumans #Cairavende reads Worm #Chatterbug #Smugbug #Taylor Hebert #MURDERWALL!!!#Lisa Wilbourn #My daughter is so terrifying and she absolutely does not realize how much #The feelings Taylor had when she realized how terrifyingly powerful Labyrinth was is the same feeling everyone else has around Taylor #She literally is one step away from turning any moment into a horror movie. I love her so much.

108 notes · View notes

sirianasims · 3 months

Text

“Mr. Romeo? Lee Thompson is at the gate.”

“Thanks, Jeff. Ask him if he brought any new tunes for the party.”

“Mr. Thompson, any fresh melodies for tonight?”

“Only if Paul promises not to sing along this time!”

“He’s brought harsh truths, Mr. Romeo.”

“Ouch. We better let him in, Jeff. And tell him my singing’s improved!”

Paul turned from the intercom, still chuckling, and pulled me close.

“Now, remember,” he urged softly, “You’re just meeting my friends. There’s no need to be nervous, they’re very nice and they’ll adore you.”

“I’ll try. It’s just that all your friends are major celebrities.”

He smiled and tucked a few stray hairs behind my ear.

“They’re also just people. There’s nothing to worry about. We’re going to have fun.”

I nodded and kissed him, trying to ignore the way my heart felt ready to leap out of my chest. I wasn’t even sure what I worried about the most, the fact that these people were famous, or that they were Paul’s closest friends. What would they think of him being with someone like me?

Lee Thompson exuded the same intensity he brought to his music. He’d composed some of the most memorable scores of the last two decades, including the original Llama Man theme tune and the new version for the animated series. He moved gracefully, like a dancer, and his handshake was surprisingly gentle. I thanked him for more or less writing the soundtrack to my entire childhood, realising only too late what I was implying, but he was delighted and didn’t seem to notice.

I’d barely recovered from my embarrassment before Jeff announced the next arrivals, and Lee sauntered off to open the champagne.

I clung to Paul’s arm as Sierra Moss and her husband, Dave Richardson, entered. Somehow, I even managed to mumble a polite greeting.

Dave’s smile was warm and welcoming. “It’s good to meet you. Paul has told us so much about you.”

Sierra laughed. “In fact, he never shuts up about you.”

Meeting Sierra Moss felt surreal. I had seen all of her movies, I even had a poster of her in Cop & Llama on my walls at home. Well, Dave was technically on the poster as well, but the llama costume meant that he wasn’t as instantly recognisable as Sierra, especially since he’d stayed on the other side of the cameras since the series ended. Sierra, on the other hand, had starred in dozens of movies and was a household name.

I straightened my back and desperately hoped that I looked like someone who was both a proper adult and perfectly chill about the fact that my childhood idol was standing in front of me and teasing my boyfriend about thinking he could keep me a secret for long.

beginning / previous / next

#duchellilegacy #duchellichapters #duchelligen5 #julia duchelli #paul romeo #lee thompson #jeff the security guard #sierra moss #dave richardson

52 notes · View notes

fishyingrn · 7 months

Text

Swap AU Aleheather post!!

I love love LOVED (agh I can't say it enough sorry!!) @swinginspaceagebachelorette 's au of TDWT (≧∇≦) ʃ♡ƪ !! It's specifically a swap au between Alejandro and Sierra, and the way she writes Alejandro is just so endearing to read! He's like a golden retriever that has random knowledge! The fact she lowered the psycho-stalker quality is what helped endear his swap personality especially!! I think I already pestered her in her comment section about his personality and appreciating the heck out of her writing there 😹 I doodled a bunch since I just loved her au sm!!!

But before I start dumping doodles I made from the fic, the link to her fic is here ! Make sure you have an AO3 account before you read of course though!!😸

NOW FOR THE DOODLES MAUHAHAHAHHAHA

This is a scene from the fic ♪(^∇^*)! It's from one of the most recent chapters (chapter 29)

Zoom out of the scene lol

I still find it funny and shocking that Heather is able to support the weight of a man over 6 ft on her head 🙀Her head's gotta be made of STEEL! Super scary just how strong it is! Steel is my only conclusion for her head strength.. (Yes I'm not going to acknowledge the shocked Gwen, her issue of the day! she partook in cheating like a gross person and in great irony considering her s1 ordeal with Heather & Trent (* ￣︿￣))

ANYWAYS ONTO THE HC SECTION!!

These hcs are Aleheather centric like the one above since they're cutie patooties in the fic AND it's an Aleheather fic what do u want from me..(～o￣3￣)～

I think it'd be a nice off screen past time that Alejandro info dumps to Heather and she's at least partially listening! The dynamic kind of reminds me of Phineas and Ferb's parents in a sense where the dad infodumps to the mom and she just listens + enjoys it(❁´◡`❁) I LOVE that dynamic btw! It's such an endearing dynamic that to find it in my fav tdi ship is so sweet (to me at least!)

Onto my next hc!

Since Alejandro is taking the place of Sierra in this au, I thought it'd be sweet that he also adopted her hobby of glitter glue crafts. You know who also has a hobby of glitter glue crafts?! HEATHER💥

I'd think in one of Alejandro's off screen infodumps, he talks about his hobby of glitter glue crafts, the techniques and brands related to the aforementioned to Heather! She'd slip out some of her knowledge and love for it, OR she immediately starts rambling back about glitter glue crafts!!

THAT'S RIGHT BABY ( •̀ ω •́ ) !

Swap!Aleheather bonding over GLITTER GLUE CRAFTS 💥💥Ugh just how much more cute can you get with that headcanon?!

Another hc incoming!!

Since Heather always has her hair up in a ponytail in the main series, I thought a nice way to show her trust is with her hair! In general her hair has always been something special to her, that's why she fought for a wig in season 2. Since an AMAZING amount of value is placed on her hair, her showing her trust to Alejandro through her hair would be a nice way to visually show she trusts him! Alejandro basically the only genuine bond she's shown to make in the series, canon and in the fic, so I think the swap hcs make it just all the more sweet (/▽＼) !! In a way, since to Swap-ejandro Heather is just a celebrity crush, this sort of interaction deepens their relationship and his feelings beyond just a celeb crush (❁´◡`❁)

NOW FOR THE LAST HC!

This one isn't an Aleheather hc, but moreso a hc focused on Swap-ejandro's appearance! I think that as a trade off, he's not as physically built as canon Alejandro but instead taller compared to him (which is scary considering canonically Alejandro is 6 ft..) Since he's in the place of Sierra in this AU, he probably has enough strength to fight off baboons, he probably just has a hidden build! In general, Sierra and Alejandro in this AU had their skills and personalities swapped, so as a result their backstories technically were too with some small tweaks! I think this AU has been fun to make a bunch of hcs in, congrats if u got to the end of me convulsively info dumping about my hcs on the awesome au (lll￢ω￢) !

Full credits to the author man! She's mega talented! Please support @swinginspaceagebachelorette's work and any future works from her! o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

Signing off, hope this reaches the right audience!

73 notes · View notes

punkassfrance · 8 days

Text

Sierra Nevada - Chapter II - Ellie/Abby

Chapter II: Hemorrhage (Work length ~2.2k) This work is rated M for canon-typical violence and gore. Please look here for a full list of warnings for the series, specific warnings will be provided at the start of each chapter. This chapter contains: violent injury (stabbing), a critically injured minor, swearing, canon-typical violence including guns and threats, blood loss, off-page sutures, and technically underage drinking. Previous Chapter - Full Series - Next Chapter

Abby

By the time the raider has hit the ground of the gas station they’re trying to loot, three bullets lodged in his chest, it’s too late. Lev is on the ground trying not to scream, biting his hand and trembling as he curls into himself. He only manages to stay quiet for a second before he sobs, free hand squeezing just above the knife wound.

Abby only has a second to panic before she falls to her knees beside him, assessing the situation as quickly as she can. It wasn’t a clean cut— the bastard tried to rip the knife out sideways once it was in, only managing to leave an open, jagged cut. It’s too late to leave the knife in until they get to safety, already torn out by the weight of a dead hand.

There’s a lot of blood. Lev is struggling to stay quiet, hands trembling as he tries to sit himself up. From the little medical knowledge she picked up from her father, she knows this is just as bad as it looks. She picks up the knife, still dripping with blood and water from the puddle it landed in, and saws off the remaining denim of his jeans. The metal clangs to the ground as she tosses it aside, wrapping the fabric over the wound and tying a snug knot.

“No, Abby, it’s not tight enough-”

“It doesn’t need to be— come on, just keep pressure on it, I got you.” She’s not as strong as she was, not yet, but she can still pick him up without too much of an issue. He buries his face into her shirt and wraps an arm around her neck, pressing the knotted denim into the wound.

“Abby-” He’s trying so hard not to cry, she can hear it in his voice. She doesn’t make him keep the act up.

“Just hold on. We’ll find somewhere to get help.”

Lev nods after a moment, taking in a shaky breath.

“Please hurry.”

Ellie

“Help, please—”

There’s a voice outside. Ellie hasn’t heard another person’s voice since Sacramento— a bitter memory she’d rather forget. It’s probably no good if someone’s out here at all, let alone trying to draw attention.

The house is pretty well barricaded. Ellie’s had nothing to do for the better part of a year, nothing but fixing things to keep her busy. Whoever’s out there isn’t getting in.

“I can see the lights, damnit, I— I have a kid, he’s hurt, please!”

Ellie grits her teeth. Of course it’s a kid. It’s a likely story, but not one Ellie’s going to fall for. Whoever it is sounds desperate- hopefully she finds some other sucker to give her what she needs.

Still, she loads the shotgun she keeps by the front door, just in case. She’s more than confident in the security she’s set up, but it’s worth being prepared.

“We can trade with you, I can help with anything you need, please—”

There’s a crack in the wood she’s used to board up the windows, just barely big enough for her to peek through onto the porch. It’s a little blurry, but when she gets a good angle…

Ellie unlocks the door and throws it open, aiming the shotgun right between her eyes.

She’d be lying if she said Abby hasn’t been on her mind a lot in the last year. Even now, so long after everything—

Jesus. It’s been almost three years, hasn’t it?

“What do you want?”

Her eyes widen when she sees Ellie, tensing as she holds the kid tighter. “You…”

“What do you fucking want?” She can’t help but shout as Abby takes a step back, and for a moment Ellie thinks she’ll just turn tail and run.

Somehow, she doesn’t.

“He’s— he’s hurt. Please.” Abby’s changed, since the last time they spoke. She almost looks like Santa Barbara never happened. She’s eaten, grown her hair back out, almost back to the woman Ellie hunted down twice. There’s color in her face again, even if it’s from the biting cold. The kid looks different too. She didn’t memorize his face like she memorized Abby’s, but the scars on his cheeks made him easy to remember. Even recovered from the Rattlers, he’s not looking so good, pallid and shuddering.

It wasn’t a scam, from what she can see. The kid’s hurt.

“Fine. I’ll let you walk away.”

Again, she thinks Abby’s about to run. Ellie fights the urge to finish her off.

“…we’ve been wandering for hours, please, I—”

Ellie steps forward, pressing the shotgun into Abby’s throat. She wouldn’t drop the kid to grab the barrel- that much, she knows. Abby glances down and inhales, taking a hesitant step back.

“…we don’t have anywhere else to go. I…I don’t think there’s anyone else in town.”

They stand silently, eyes locked for a moment that goes on too long. Ellie knows what she’s saying. There’s no help to be found. She’s right, too. After eight months here, Ellie is yet to find someone else. Abby could wander for hours, scream her heart out, knock on every door, and the most she could hope to find would be the infected remains of someone who would have been able to help.

And god, she wants to let it happen.

“You don’t fucking deserve my help.”

“He does. Please.”

Ellie looks down.

The kid’s fading fast. He hasn’t even looked at Ellie yet- probably doesn’t even know his life is in the hands of someone who already threatened to end it. Poor kid doesn’t even look like he can hear what they’re saying.

She doesn’t know much about him. Abby cares for him, which might just be reason enough to let him die, but he’s still a kid. The scars on his face are familiar, one of the many things she can’t forget from Seattle. He’s wearing a thin hoodie, it can’t be enough to keep him warm. He doesn’t look older than fourteen.

“Fucking—” She lowers the shotgun, gritting her teeth and looking up to Abby. There’s no time to have a dilemma about this. The last thing Ellie needs right now is to be responsible for the death of a child. Another child. “Get inside. There’s a couple spare bedrooms upstairs on the left. I’ll see what I can find for medical supplies, but don’t hold your breath.”

The relief in Abby’s face is immediate, and Ellie hates it. Seeing Abby at all raises something violent and cruel in her chest, something she thought she’d never have to confront again. As though she could be so lucky.

When she steps aside, Abby’s careful not to hit the kid’s head or feet against the doorway, hesitantly looking back at Ellie before she goes up the stairs. She won’t ask out loud if Ellie’s sure about this, but Ellie nods anyway.

Abby takes off up the stairs, muttering something to the kid as she goes. Ellie doesn’t catch it as she heads for the garage, lips pressed together.

Abby

“Abby.”

It’s the only thing Lev has said to Abby for the last three hours. He’s prayed quietly to himself, held back sobs and profanities, but none of that was for her. Once he’s on the bed, he shudders and tries to curl into the blankets, finally warm after hours in the cold. It’s not snowing quite yet, but it’s close- the chill has gotten to both of them by now. Even as she shivers, Abby can’t bring herself to try and warm up, busying herself with Lev’s wound. She rolls up his cut off pant leg to get it out of the way, tentatively untying the denim from around his leg. It’s not bleeding quite as much, but it’s still bleeding, and she’s not sure how to fix that. If it hasn’t clotted by now, he may have nicked an artery. The thought has her white-knuckling the sheets.

“We’re okay for now. Just breathe for me, okay?”

He tries, which has to be enough. Even if his breathing is shaky as she tries to move him into a better position, even if his fists turn white as he grips the comforter, he’s still taking deep breaths. It’s all she can think of to keep him distracted right now.

“Fuck…”

She’ll never deny him the chance to swear his little heart out. He’s found some freedom in it, she thinks, some sense of identity. But she’s especially not going to say anything right now, as he bleeds out in this poor excuse for a hospital bed.

He’s not bleeding out. She shakes her head as the thought crosses her mind.

There’s a soft knock on the open door, the girl hesitantly stepping in with full arms. She sets things on the bed beside Lev, a few jars and a first aid kit. At the least, it looks well-supplied. The last thing she sets down is a heavy book, covered in dust aside from the few fingerprints Abby can see.

“This place belonged to a prepper, I think. It’s better than nothing.” She says with a resigned tone- they don’t have all they’ll need, and they both know it. But this should be enough for now.

“Can you dig out a needle and thread?”

The girl shakes her head, holding out a brown bottle. “Not yet. Disinfect with this.” She shakes it, liquid sloshing around inside. “It’s alcohol. Don’t just trap bacteria inside.”

Abby takes the bottle and opens it, wincing when she catches a whiff. It’s just alcohol- not the half-assed whiskey she expected. Even if that might come in handy for pain management.

She grabs Lev’s shoulder, squeezing softly. “This is probably gonna hurt. Bite down.”

He gives no sign that he hears her, just gathers more sheets into his hand and stuffs them in his mouth. It’ll have to do. Abby reaches down to take his free hand, squeezing tight as she pours the alcohol over the laceration. Lev stifles a shriek as she moves the bottle over his leg, only pouring for a second before she sets it down and takes a clean towel from the girl’s hand. She cleans around the wound, gentle as she can be wiping away blood and any remaining alcohol.

As Lev starts to breathe again, Abby looks up, eyebrows furrowed at the girl across from her. She’s pulled the kit into her lap as she digs through it, looking for a needle and thread of some kind.

“…thank you.”

“Fucking shut up.” She doesn’t look up, just keeps digging through the kit, tossing some fishing line on the bed.

“Thank you.”

The girl pauses and glances back at Lev, straining to crack his eyes open. Abby squeezes his hand again, nervous for her response- but she doesn’t say anything. Just looks back to the kit in her hand and pulls out a bottle.

“It’s Yarrow. Coagulant.”

Abby takes it when it’s offered, opening the jar and grimacing at the powder inside. “Do I just…?”

“Get it in there. Keep pressure on with one of the towels until it stops bleeding. We’ll wash it out before we sew it up.”

Abby nods, looking down at the wound, then back to Lev’s pale face.

“You’re gonna be alright.” The girl says to him, already exhausted as she pulls a packaged needle out of the kit. “I promise.”

Ellie

It’s a struggle, getting the kid sewn up. He’s in pain the whole time, as much as they try to negate it, but there’s no way to avoid it without real painkillers. Tylenol and Moonshine can only help so much.

Once he’s sewn up, bandaged, and as disinfected as he can get, Abby covers him with the few blankets they can spare. He’s so pale, it’s hard for Ellie look at, to see just how much blood he’s lost. He practically passes out once Abby tells him they’re done, shuddering under the blankets.

Ellie stands by the doorway, watching as Abby fusses over the kid. They’re not related, it seems- but she’s in no position to judge people trying to make their own family. It doesn’t really matter, nor does she care- they won’t be here for long.

Once Abby stands and looks Ellie in the eye, she jerks her head out towards the hallway. Once they’re outside, the door closed to give the kid some rest, Ellie crosses her arms.

“…I know I’m the last person—” Abby starts, but Ellie stops her with a hand up. She’s quiet for a moment, eyes closed.

“You can stay until he’s on his feet again. You pull your weight and stay out of my way. I’ll help with whatever he needs, but you don’t bother me.” She takes a step closer to Abby, jaw set. “Give me any excuse to put you down and I’m taking it.”

Abby presses her lips together and nods. Ellie expected some kind of pushback, but it makes sense that Abby wouldn’t risk it right now.

“Okay. What do you need me to do?”

“For now, just…stay by him. I’ll get you when I need help.”

“Fine.”

Abby watches her, meets Ellie’s steely gaze, and nods. Her hand rests on the doorknob, waiting for a dismissal of some kind.

“Don’t make me regret letting you stay.” Even though she already regrets it, it’s a sentiment worth putting out there. Abby nods, turning back into the kid’s room and shutting the door behind her.

I hope you all enjoy the direction I plan to take this in- thank you so much for reading! (The Sierra Nevada mountains are so beautiful btw, I don't think I've seen more impressive mountains and I just spent a week driving the Al-Can.)

Thank you to @plum98 for the forest divider! Feel free to say hi or drop your thoughts in my askbox, check out my AO3 or my about me if you're interested!

19 notes · View notes

yandere-daydreams · 1 year

Text

Title: Upkeep.

Commissioned by the very lovely, very indulgent @furudolove.

Pairing: Yandere!OC x F!Reader.

Word Count: 3.6k.

TW: Non/Con, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Implied Drug Use, Implied Stalking, Unhealthy Relationships, and Slight Infantilization.

“So, these were your big plans?”

You nestled farther into the couch, nodding as to the affirmative. Luna let out a bark of a laugh, watching from the closest loveseat as you freed a single arm from your self-inflicted tangle of blankets and adjusted the volume of the god-awful, absolutely perfect reality show you were watching – something about a dozen or so insanely attractive b-rated influencers fraternizing on an island; fucking, fighting, and doing very little else. In other words, peak television.

“I’ve heard that some people go shopping on their days off, or hiking— can you believe that? There are actually people out there who’d voluntarily leave their apartments?”

You shrug, gesturing towards the T.V. “And there are other people in here that have half a dozen seasons of Love Peninsula to catch up on.”

“I know I said I was up for anything, but…” She trailed off, eyeing the screen (and, by association, the montage of shirtless men and bikini-clad women flashing across it) warily. “Are you absolutely sure there’s nothing you’d rather be doing? Nothing you’d rather do with me?”

“I mean, I might make popcorn in a couple hours. When Cindy realizes Brent still isn't over Sierra.”

“C’mon, it’s obvious she’s delusional. You’d be lucky if she notices before the finale.”

“You have been watching, you liar. Do you think Monica and Kyle are actually going to make it past the next elimination, or—"

“(Y/n).”

“Right. Their first kiss was pretty cute, so they’ll probably make it another—” She narrowed her eyes, and you cut yourself off. Sitting up, you gave her your most pleading smile. Between your job and your classes, the former full of last-minute call-ins and never-available coworkers while the latter seemed to consist entirely of textbooks you didn’t have the energy or the time to read and tests you could never seem to pass, it felt like this was the first day you'd had to yourself in weeks. You were exhausted, and as pathetic as it sounded, there was nothing you wanted to do more than lay on your (or, technically, your roommate’s) couch, shovel junk food into your mouth, and watch the romantic lives of strangers disintegrate until you couldn’t remember a single second from the past two months. “I know, I know, but I feel like I’ll fall apart if I push myself further. I promise, we can do something fun and exciting and outdoorsy next time, but today,” You shook the remote. “It’s just me and the peninsula, babe.”

She rolled her eyes, but gave in quickly. Pushing herself to her feet, Luna stretched before turning towards you, both hands coming to rest on her hips. “I’ll leave you alone with the new love of your life, then. And, since I’m going to assume you won’t be getting up for the next twelve hours, I’m bringing you something to drink, too.” She paused, grinned. “Any requests?”

You hesitated. Luna didn’t have a reason to take care of you. She was your roommate, not your girlfriend, even if she had always been the overly-affectionate type. She liked to go behind your back, sometimes, wake up an hour before you to make breakfast despite her hours being nearly as hellish as yours, overpay on her half of the rent and attempt to write it off as your landlord’s mistake, and usually, you tried not to let her get away with it, to repay her kindness when you could and not accept it at all, when you knew you wouldn’t be able to. Usually, you’d brush her off, tell her to go out and enjoy herself. Usually, you wouldn’t let her baby you, but today…

“Can you make that tea again?” You asked, too tired to feel as ashamed as you should’ve. “The one with the mint leaves? And that weird not-quite-herbal taste?”

She sighed, shook her head, but a few minutes later, there was a warm mug in your hands, the beverage inside more bitter than you expected it to be but no less satisfying. You drained half the mug in the first sip, finished it in the second, and in an instant, any remaining scrap of tension in your body had evaporated. You melted back into your place on the couch, and Luna chuckled, leaning forward. You felt her hands on your shoulders, her thumbs digging into the flesh above your shoulder blades. You winced out of reflex, at first, but what little pain there was subsided into a subtle, but not completely unpleasant pressure as she pushed slow, steady circles into the muscles of your back.

Luna let out a low whistle as you leaned into her forceful touch. “You weren’t kidding. You’re as stiff as a plank, poor thing.”

“I mean, yeah. That’s kind of what I’m trying to fix.” You tried to sound sardonic, self-aware, but you had to bite your tongue not to groan as she found a particularly tense patch of muscle near the top of your spine. “Thanks for the reminder?”

She stopped, abruptly, letting you go with a low hum of disapproval. “I’m going to need you to lay down. If you don’t get a proper massage, your body might just give out on you.”

Her tone didn’t leave room for protest, but you tried to shake your head, to smile as you brushed her off. “You don’t have to do everything for me, y’know.”

“It’ll take five minutes.” She was rounding the couch. “Come on. I’ll have to do even more for you if you manage to give yourself early-onset paralysis.”

“Do you even have a license?”

“Lie down.”

Again, on any other day, you might’ve argued, but…

But, it just wasn’t worth it, today. You didn’t have the energy.

So, you laid down, folding your arms underneath your head and trying not to shift as Luna straddled your lower thighs. Her hands slipped under the hem of your tank-top, and you forced yourself not to flinch as she slipped the thin piece of fabric over your head. It was fine. Luna probably didn’t think anything of it. She was usually topless at home, and if she wasn’t, it meant she hadn’t put on enough clothes to just be topless, yet. You’d never met anyone so determined not to sleep in their own bed, which wouldn’t be an issue if she wasn’t equally as determined to sleep in the nude. You tried not to complain, though. It was her name on the lease, and you didn't want to be down a friend and a place to live just because you've seen more of your roommate than you'd honestly like to.

You jolted when she reached for the clasp of your bra, but Luna only chuckled, resting a hand on your shoulder and easing you back onto your chest. “Easy there,” She laughed. “You don’t expect me to work with this in the way, do you?”

“I… I guess not?” It was more of a question than explicit permission, but she rewarded you with a soft squeeze to your side. Your bra was removed as carelessly as your tank top, and after you made a feeble attempt to protect what was left of your modesty with a stray blanket, Luna continued.

She was kind enough to start gently. She favored the areas she had before – your upper back, your shoulders, the curve of your spine. You felt her blunt nails scrape over your skin, and occasionally, she seemed to press a little too hard, to aim for a spot that was a little too sensitive, but her slip-ups were few and far between, and slowly, you let yourself relax underneath her. As you let your guard down, she was able to move lower, to knead her fingertips into the muscle of your lower back and work out the knots of tension you hadn’t realized existed, not until Luna hit a nerve you couldn’t name and a wave of something warm and loose washed over you. This time, you were too slow to bite back the low whine that slipped past your lips, but Luna only laughed. She must’ve done this before. She didn’t seem fazed by anything, but then again, she never really did.

“This might be the most time we’ve spent together all month, y’know.” It was phrased light-heartedly, but guilt ate away at the back of your throat, nonetheless. She wasn’t wrong. You’d been busy – either away at work or locked in your room, studying. You didn’t have a lot of time to spend with anyone, let alone the roommate you’d known for a grand total of six months. Despite loving dearly, of course. “It’s hard not to feel a little neglected.”

You swallowed, dryly. “I’m sorry. I guess I’ve been busy, lately.”

You must’ve been more tired than you realized. Your eyes felt too heavy to keep open, and your body felt… strange, too, so numb and so hot and so cold, simultaneously. This time, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it was part of the massage. “And I tried to take such good care of you, too,” Luna went on, as if you hadn’t said anything at all. “Do you know how hard it was to catch your attention? To get an ad out where I knew you would have to see it? I thought you might be easier to keep a hold on once we were living together, but even now, you’re too distracted to do so much as look at me.”

Her voice was still quiet, her tone still teasing, but dampened hostility laced her words. Her anger barely shined through, and yet, you weren’t sure you’d ever seen her so mad.

You tried to arch your back, to push yourself up, but it was all you could to do curl your fingertips into your palms, to force your eyes open. She was still on top of you, but her touch has changed – more lingering, less precise, any pretense of delicacy or purpose growing more and more distant with each passing second. You felt her hands fall to your waist, then your hips, her blunt nails digging into your ass as you let out a choked, panicked sound. It wasn’t a scream - it was still Luna, you’d never scream because of Luna – but you weren’t sure it would’ve made a difference, if it had been.

“I mean, a little attention is the least you could give me. I’ve been paying your bills for… what? Half a year? And your ‘rent’—” She cut herself off with an airy laugh. “A place like this for a rate like that? You have to know how much I've been doing for you, even if you always did like to play had to get.”

You didn’t know what she was talking about. You didn’t know what she was trying to say. You didn’t know what she was doing – or, rather, what she seemed to be getting ready to do. With a soft hum, she pressed a light kiss into the dip of your shoulder before straightening her back, shifting slightly. With deliberate, light movements, she drew you upward, chuckling as your limp body came to rest against her chest, your legs still trapped underneath you. “See? It’s not that hard to rely on someone else,” She said, despite your feeble efforts to put any amount of distance between you and her. “It’s easier, right? And I promise, it'll feel a lot better than being so stubborn.”

It was hard to speak. You vision was blurring, now, your mind starting to lag behind with the rest of your body. “I don’t…” You tried, then trailed off, shaking your head before you forced yourself to string together something more coherent. “I don’t know if this is—”

“You’re supposed to be relaxing. Isn’t that what you said you wanted to do, princess? Straining yourself is a little against the point.” You managed to raise a hand, to shove at the arm wrapped around your midriff, but Luna only kissed your cheek, only dug her nails into your side with enough force to break the skin. “All you have to worry about is sitting pretty and letting me take care of you. That doesn’t sound too hard, does it?”

The question was rhetorical. She clearly didn’t need an answer, and judging by the way her touch drifted to your chest, how her gentleness seemed to falter as her thumbs swiped over your nipples, she didn’t seem to want one, either. You jerked forward, stifling a whimper, and Luna’s grin seemed to widen, her teeth ghosting over vulnerable skin while she groped you, occasionally pinching your chest or nipping at your neck when her sedative threatened to overtake you completely.

Eventually, she moved on, moved lower, pull your shorts off and tracing two fingers over your slit, nearing purring when she felt the damp spot that stained your panties. She hadn’t done anything to earn it, but you were already panting, already struggling to feel anything but hot. A knot of tension had formed at the pit of your stomach, and it was all you could do to press your thighs together, to try to alleviate the rolling ache in your core. “Poor baby,” Luna drawled, her voice more giddy than sympathetic. “You just need all the help you can get, don’t you?”

Your panties were torn through easily, the ruined fabric quickly discarded. Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you wished she would just touch you, do whatever she was going to do so you wouldn’t have to suffer through… whatever this was on your own, but the traitorous thought never reached the surface. Instead, Luna’s palm ground into your exposed clit, applying just enough pressure to leave you clenching your eyes shut and gritting your teeth, curling your toes and thrashing weakly against her. If she noticed your pathetic attempts at resistance, though, she didn’t seem to think it was worth her attention. She was already distracted, busy gathering your slick on her fingertips, bringing her hand up and somewhere behind you. For a few seconds, all you could hear were wet, terrible sounds before Luna giggled, squeezing you that much closer to her. You couldn’t remember seeing her this happy since…

Since the day you moved in.

You felt sick.

And yet, Luna remained unaffected. She took a moment to trace aimless, winding patters into the inside of your thigh, then seemed to lose her patience, cupping your cunt and listening to the strangled whine you let out, in response. “You know, for as long as we’ve been together, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you…” She trailed off, laughed, like that was what managed to embarrass her. “Well, touch yourself. I’ve never heard anything through the walls. I know you don’t have any toys, either. I would’ve found them by now. It's no wonder you're so pent-up. You never take the time to do anything nice for yourself.”

She was kind enough to start slowly, to keep the pad of her thumb pressed into your clit as she eased two fingers into your tight, dripping entrance. Painstakingly, she curled her digits before spreading them apart, stretching you open. “You never lock your door, either. At first, I thought you were just being cute in that ‘eager, but too shy to ask’ way, but it’s starting to seem like you’re just oblivious.” She sighed, pressed a kiss into the dip of your shoulder. “I still think it’s sweet, though. Honestly, you should count yourself lucky you ended up with someone willing to take the lead.”

She was merciless, not so much purposefully brutal as it experimental, rough in a way you had to attribute more to Luna’s impatience than any cruelty she might have. She refused to restrain herself to a certain pace, a specific rhythm – speeding up and slowing down at random, curling and straightening and scissoring her fingers apart just to see what made you tense up and shrink into yourself. You tried to bite your tongue, not to give her what you couldn’t deny she wanted, anymore, but there was only so much you could do to keep the air from hitching in your throat, to stop little whines and half-choked moans from stumbling past your lips as forced a third digit into your pussy. You twisted your head to the side, arching away from Luna as far as you could. She only held you tighter, only twisted her wrist more violently as your hips bucked into her hand, your body craving any friction it could inflict onto itself, regardless of the source. “This is going to be the first time I get to watch you cum,” She whispered, her excitement nearly tangible. “You really ought to take better care of yourself. Then, the person who loves you wouldn’t have to work so hard to do it for you.”

You didn’t argue. You couldn’t – you were already clenching down around her fingers, your vision burning white as your climax washed over you. Controlling your reaction would’ve been impossible, so you didn’t try to, spasming and twitching in her arms as she bullied you through your orgasm, only starting to slow down when pangs of overstimulation started to set in and your reactions turned more pained than pleasured. Even then, it took her a few more seconds to pull away, to lower you down until your back was flat against the couch and she was free to stand, to stretch, to position herself in between your open legs. Your thoughts were more coherent, now, less difficult to put together, but you were exhausted, too scared and too drained to move. You couldn’t do anything to get away from her, no matter how badly you might’ve wanted to.

“You’re so beautiful.” You didn’t know why she was still talking. You didn’t know why she bothered to. Trying to hold your attention, pretending it would make a difference if you closed your eyes and kept them closed until you were done. At least, then, the feeling of her lips ghosting over the inside of your thighs wouldn’t have been so vivid, the hands wrapping around your ankles just a little farther away. At least, this time, she didn’t try to draw it out, her lips brushing over your stomach, then your hip, eventually falling low enough for the flat of her tongue to lave over your slit. There was a soft moan, a row of nails burrowed into your skin, then her lips latched onto your clit, sucking gently and sapping out what little life you had left. She waited for you to cry out, then drew back, laughing. “And now, we’ll never have to ignore each other again.”

She sounded happy. You wanted to be happy for her, but you couldn’t seem to summon that much strength.

You let your head lull to the side as she nipped at your thigh, applying just enough force to leave the vulnerable flesh bruised and discolored. Again, she failed to settle on a certain goal, failed to set a pace you could latch onto – opting to keep you on the edge, to alternate between tracing patterns into your slit and fucking your shallowly with her tongue, humming and groaning in a way that seemed to shoot straight to your core. You tried to focus on something else, to keep your eyes on the blankest wall in your peripheral or give in to the cooling numbness slowly taking the place of the heat she’d inflicted onto you, but it was an effort made in vain. She knew you too well, even if you were starting to think you didn’t know her at all.

Her hands drifted to your hips, pinning you to the couch as she spread your legs that much farther, as she moaned shamelessly into your cunt. Everything she did was messy, and selfish, and too fast and too drawn out and too reckless all at the same time and it was working. You’d been helpless when she split you open with her fingers, too desperate to cum to feel anything except that lurking, clawing need, but she was able to edge you towards the cliffside, now, to force you to feel the tension building up in the pit of your stomach, slowly coiling tighter and tighter and tighter until you couldn’t help but clench your thighs together around her head, but ball at the blankets laid out underneath you and squirm, your hips involuntarily rocking against her mouth. This time, when you reached your climax, you were forced to let it wash over you, a frozen wave no less overpowering for how long it took to build up. There was nothing you could do to stave it off, but you weren’t sure you’d be willing to try, anymore.

When it ended, you could only close your eyes, making a weak effort to roll onto your side and curl into yourself. You felt Luna stand, heard her click her tongue before taking you into her arms. Vaguely, you were aware that she was carrying you back to her room, laying you across a plush bed, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, even as something very cold and very stiff wrapped around your ankle. Luna leaned over you, pressing a lingering kiss into your temple. “It’s alright, love. You can sleep for a while.” Her tone was soft, soothing. You couldn’t help but lean into the palm that pressed into your cheek, to listen as she went on, no matter how difficult it was to listen to her voice, now.

“I’ll be hear to take care of you when you wake up.”

#woman loving wednesday #except actually on wednesday this time #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere oc #yanderecore #yancore #yandere #yandere x reader

352 notes · View notes

wyattjohnston · 1 year

Text

not perfect (but we were) - nico hischier

summary: sierra needs a rescue and there’s only one person she can think of to call.

word count: 3,559

note: this is for @ryngrvs's birthday bingo! i hope you have a fantastic day, c, and that you get lots of fics to read 💚 this doesn't hit the technical definition of bingo, but i used 5 prompts per your rules! thanks to @matthewtkachuk for reading it even though she was absolutely about to fall asleep when i begged.

prompts: 1. exes to lovers 2. handwritten notes 3. car troubles 4. "could you leave?" 5. blind date

There was a moment, just before it all went to hell, where Sierra thought she was actually going to make it. She’d just gotten off the turnpike at the correct exit, she was ten minutes from her final destination—she could practically see the restaurant.

And okay, it had taken a few turns of the engine to get it to start when she hopped in that morning and the battery light had been on for more than a few days already. The engine light had come on halfway to Woodbridge. Maybe they were signs she should have found a different mode of transport or just rescheduled entirely but it was too late to think about those things when she was desperately trying to corral her spluttering car off the road before it died a sad and final death.

“Betty,” Sierra whined to her ten-year-old Beetle, “I thought you loved me.”

She put the car in park and turned the key in the ignition, even if there was no chance it was going anyway, tapping the steering wheel as she tried to think of her options. She wasn’t good with cars, had never needed to be, and she knew she gave off that vibe whenever confronted with anyone even tangentially related to a mechanic, so calling a tow truck was out of the question.

It was just that it was midday on a Wednesday and she had very limited options for who would be able to come rescue her.

Very limited.

“Uh, hi?”

“My car broke down and I need someone to come get me.”

Sierra heard shuffling on the other end of the phone, some distant voices, before his voice came back through the speaker with a shocking clarity, “Sierra—it’s Nico. Did you mean to call me?”

“Yes,” she said through gritted teeth, staring darkly out her windscreen. She didn’t like to be the woman who called her ex when she was in a bit of strife. “You’re the only person not working right now.”

“I’m at practice?”

Sierra sighed in frustration, but still said, “Sorry. I’ll try call a tow truck. Sorry. Bye.”

With the call ended abruptly after, Sierra stared down at her phone and hoped to god that she could search tow truck new jersey and whoever she got would be nice to her and her questionable car decisions.

At least, that’s what she started to hope before a text came through from Nico that said Send me your location. Practice is nearly over.

And then another immediately after from the person she was meant to be meeting that said leaving now b their soon.

Sierra felt her blood run cold and there was no way of knowing which message it was that caused it. She blindly sent Nico her location, with no accompanying message because she was trying to come up with a response to the other text that didn’t sound as flaky as she felt. That conversation was immediately muted.

Despite it not even being remotely cold outside—though compared to the beginning of the month it was arctic—a chill was seeping into the car with the engine dead and the heating not functioning. From the back seat, she pulled the coat she’d brought just in case and struggled around in the driver’s seat to pull it on.

She flipped up the collar and pushed her hands deep into the pockets of the coat, ready to force a nap knowing that Nico would be at least half an hour away. Her hand touched a piece of paper before she could shut her eyes and, out of sheer curiosity, Sierra pulled it out to look at it.

It was halfway unfolded when Sierra realised exactly what it was; there was no heading back.

Familiar handwriting stared up at her and before she’d even started to read it, Sierra felt her stomach drop but also simultaneously warmed to the core as she heard it in her head. Nico’s voice was all too clear.

Hope you have a good day today! Stay warm, drink lots of coffee. Ich han dich gern.

Sierra folded it back up again, throwing into empty space behind the gearshift to never think about again.

She definitely thought about it—and the many other letters just like it—in depth for however long it took for there to be a knock on her window that scared her so much that she squealed involuntarily.

Nico looked apologetic, at least, when she looked at him through the glass. She sighed again, her shoulders up around her ears, and unlocked the door so she could open it just enough to talk to him. He had other ideas, though, and opened it wider because he wasn’t going to speak to her through a tiny crack in a car door.

“Are you alright?” he asked before anything else.

“Frustrated, but yes. I’m alright.”

She wasn’t forced through more small talk, and she didn’t blame Nico for not even trying when she refused to look anywhere but through the windscreen. He was nice enough to not remind her that she was the one who called him.

“Do you want to take out your things?” he asked, gesturing to the scattering of belongings Sierra always had in her car. “In case you need any of it while it’s at the mechanic?”

Sierra agreed; the tow truck was already on its way because Nico had had the foresight to call for one as he was leaving Prudential Center.

Sierra watched Nico cross in front of her car, and only moved when he opened the rear passenger’s side door and started putting some things into one of the many bags floating about on the backseat. She couldn’t let him clean out her car alone so she joined him in reaching into her backseat and filling a bag.

“Do you know why Betty broke down?”

“Battery’s super dead,” Sierra said, not looking up at him. “I shouldn’t have driven her.”

Nico moved to the front passenger’s seat with the bag and started to move things out of the footwell. She couldn’t let him clean her car out alone, but she was long past being embarrassed by the collection of crap her car seemed to accumulate.

“Did you have a job interview out here?”

Sierra looked at him, then, through the gap between the front seats, and managed to get out a soft no that had Nico tilting his head waiting for further clarification—he moved back to picking things up when it became clear nothing more was coming.

She was caught up in how afraid she was to tell Nico it had been a date she was going to and only realised that Nico was lifting up the paper from the console as he was unfolding it.

He didn’t say a single word after reading it, just folded it back up neatly and added it to the bag. Sierra watched on, her stomach flipping in horror, still at a complete loss for words.

The tow truck arrived just in time for the silence to become smothering—Sierra took her time walking back to Nico’s car to deposit her things on his backseat, just so she could take a few deep, centring breaths without him noticing.

Sierra stood beside Nico as he talked to the tow truck driver, trying to not look completely out of her depth. There was no real pressure for her to listen and understand but she knew that there was always the possibility that the person they were talking to would decide to take advantage of Nico for not being American, so a balancing act had become part of their routine.

It all took far too long, even with the tow truck driver being decent enough to speak to both Sierra and Nico with respect and decency. The wind was picking up, a cool bite getting through Sierra’s jeans and she kept catching herself as soon as she was leaning closer to Nico’s body heat—Nico either didn’t notice or he was kind enough to not mention it.

Sitting in Nico’s passenger seat felt as familiar as it always had, she fell into the seat and immediately played with the seat’s positioning to fix it after whichever giant teammate of Nico’s had been sitting in it and moved the vents so that she could hold her hands up to them to restore some warmth to her fingers.

“I found the letter in my pocket,” she said when they were back on the turnpike. “It wasn’t just sitting in my car.”

“I—” Nico cleared his throat. “Yeah, I figured. Do you find a lot of them?”

“Not as many as I did the first week,” Sierra said, thinking of the notes she’d found in obvious spots like in the book she’d been reading, the pocket of her purse or in a pill bottle when she’d needed the extra strong anti-inflammatories for the first time in months. “How many are there?”

“I don’t know. I don’t even know where I would have hidden them all.”

Sierra’s roommate found a few, too, because there were only so many places in their two-bedroom apartment to hide things. Nico had found all possible hiding spots, though. More than Sierra had ever expected.

Apparently not content with silence like Sierra, Nico asked, “What were you doing out there? Dressed so nice? If it’s not a job interview?”

She tried not to bristle, saying calmly, “It doesn’t matter now.”

Nico took his eyes off the road for a brief moment to look at her, Sierra could only see it out of her periphery—she didn’t want to give anything away in her face and knew he wouldn’t think anything of it because she never liked it when he took his eyes off the road.

Sierra picked at her nail polish where it was growing out, peeling flakes of purple off and only caring a little that she was dropping them into the footwell.

“We can turn back around,” Nico offered. “I don’t have anything else to do today.”

“It’s fine.”

“Sierra.”

Through gritted teeth, she said, “My sister set me up on a blind date. It’s fine. I wasn’t really interested anyway.”

She couldn’t help but look at him after he went firmly silent, curious about whether she could get a read on what was going through his mind. Sierra was devastated that she couldn’t tell what he was thinking at all, it hadn’t even been very long since they broke up.

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and Sierra tried not to sigh out loud as she turned back to look out the windscreen.

“A blind date? In 2022?”

She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat, “That’s your problem with it?”

“I don’t think I have a right to have a problem with anything else.”

“I guess not.”

Sierra didn’t know what to expect when Nico told her he was coming over. Asking questions would have been the smart play but part of Nico’s appeal was the half pieces of information he gave—always just enough to remove stress from the situation and still keep it fresh and exciting.

That didn’t necessarily mean the same thing when they were broken up.

Still, when her doorbell buzzed and Nico was waiting on the other side holding her car keys in the air, she couldn’t help but squeal and throw her arms around his neck in excitement. It wasn’t until she was pulling back, excitedly saying ‘Betty!’ with Nico’s hand pressed against her lower back that she realised what she was doing.

His cologne nearly drew her back in.

She managed to stay strong and took the keys from Nico, rushing down the steps towards her Beetle and barely refraining from laying across her in a hug. She patted the hood instead and beamed up at Nico gratefully.

He passed along the message from the mechanic that they replaced the battery and something about an oil filter that she didn’t understand—the whole reason she’d had Nico do it for her in the first place. She nodded as he spoke, trusting that he trusted his mechanic.

“What do I owe you?” she asked hesitantly, picturing the already low numbers in her bank account dwindling even further. If she was extra nice in the lead up to Christmas maybe her boss would give her a nice bonus.

Probably not, but she’d have to really fucking try.

“Nothing.”

Sierra was incredulous, “You get free work from your mechanic?”

Nico nodded once, short and stiff, before averting his gaze entirely. With the keys still in her hands, he surprised her and managed to unlock it solely to reach in and open the hood. Sierra knew him well enough to know that he was going to change topic.

“Nico, what do I owe you?” she asked again as he was lifting the hood and beginning to point to things in the engine bay that Sierra didn’t care about.

The mumble that left Nico’s mouth was maddening.

“Nico,” she said, desperate for any answer. He closed the hood and Sierra registered the surprise on his face when he saw just how uncomfortable and furious she was.

“Could you leave?” she snapped, knowing that there was nothing else to say if he wasn’t going to let her pay for the work done to her own car.

His eyebrows pulled together, always so expressive and telling. “Leave?”

“Leave.”

Taken aback, Nico asked, “What did I do?”

“You can’t just pay for my car and expect me to be okay with it. You know that. We aren’t together, Nico. You made sure of that.”

“You don’t have the money for it and I do. It’s fine, Sierra.”

“It’s fine if we’re together, Nico. But I don’t know what you want from me when you do this. Thank you for picking me up and thank you for dealing with the mechanics. It should have ended there.”

Nico was so blasé, so seemingly unfazed by it, that he shrugged at her, a little proud, “It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s a huge deal!” Sierra couldn’t help but shout. “I miss you so fucking much but I can’t have you and then you go and do this and it’s not fucking fair!”

“I’m—I’m sorry, Sierra,” Nico said, the pride draining from his body instantly. “I didn’t think about it that way.”

“I know, Nico, but still need you to go before my heart gets broken again.”

“I didn’t mean to break it the first time. You know that, right?”

Sierra remembered every second of that day, could remember the very specific way her heart crumbled—slowly and piece by piece. It brought tears to her eyes to even remember it.

“That’s not what I felt like. I remember the conversation about the team and it getting you down and it causing you stress and you not wanting to take that out on me—you weren’t, though.”

“No?”

“No,” she said resolutely, all but snapping at him. He flinched. “You broke up with me anyway, and we’re still broken up so. Could you please leave?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, muus. I really didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He nodded, quick and firm, before he patted Betty’s hood and started to walk away.

Sierra raced back inside before she could do something stupid like hold him again. Let him hold her. Let him tell her all of the ways he never meant to break her up before he did exactly that.

Sierra looked out her bedroom window when she was securely inside to see Nico staring down at his phone and it was only then that it occurred to her that, if he’d driven Betty to her, he was stranded.

Sierra closed her curtains abruptly and decided it was a good time to re-organise her chest of drawers. Getting rid of clothing was hard, even if it was something Sierra didn’t wear often. There was always the possibility of the perfect pants coming along to match a slightly out there top, or sometimes it was just because the dress that she’d folded up and pushed to the back had been part of one her best memories of her time with Nico.

That specific dress—delicately embroidered with flowers, described as very flirty by her roommate—deserved better than being scrunched up and hidden but as much as Sierra couldn’t bring herself to throw it away, she’d felt her heart seize whenever she saw it hanging up.

She pulled it out, gave it a shake to bring back some of its shape. If she hadn’t been so on edge, she may have missed the piece of paper floating out of it.

I will never forget this dress, muus. I’ll find another reason for you to wear it. It was the best night of my life, just being there with you.

Her eyes screwed shut, tears prickling at the corners. She held both the dress and the note to her chest, crumbling them in desperation to—Sierra didn’t really know. Merge them together? Return to the night? Bring Nico back?

Impossible, she knew, no matter how hard she tried, so there was one other option.

Sierra ripped her car keys off the bed and nearly bowled over her roommate as she ran back outside, ignoring her questions about whether or not she just saw Nico outside.

As Sierra was opening the driver’s side door, she ran her hand over the roof and said, “Let’s go, Betty. We’re on a mission.”

Betty drove just as well as Sierra had ever known—even better, perhaps—and getting to Hoboken was a breeze. Sierra knew her way around New Jersey, having lived in various areas of the state her entire life, and she knew the route to Nico’s apartment like the back of her hand.

In record timing—and with a few speeding tickets surely coming her way—Sierra arrived and she didn’t let her nerves get the better of her. She sat in Betty for no longer than it took to turn off the engine.

She stood at the front door to Nico’s apartment building and pressed the buzzer. Waiting patiently for him to answer the intercom was difficult, her chest heaving as she failed to control her breathing.

A panic rose within her when she was still standing at the building’s doors five minutes later; no response at all from the other end despite a second press of the buzzer. There was no video camera that connected to Nico’s apartment, she knew that for a fact, so it couldn’t be that he was actively ignoring Sierra specifically.

She pressed the buzzer again for good measure, third times the charm after all, and then melted entirely into a puddle on the doorstep when there was still no answer. She buried her heads into her hands, out of frustration and to protect herself from the wind that was still getting progressively colder and her cheeks and lips were struggling.

It was silly, truly, to have rushed over to Nico’s almost as soon as she’d told him to leave. Silly would be the best word to describe so many of her decisions.

“Sierra?”

Her head snapped up so quickly that she felt a twinge and she nearly tripped over her own feet in a rush to stand up.

“Did I beat you here?” she asked, looking over her shoulder to see whether or not she’d missed the door opening.

“My Uber driver got lost.” Nico was speaking hesitantly. Even his half step up the stairs was an indication of how unsure he was. “Are you okay?”

Sierra admitted, easily, without a second thought, “I miss you.”

“You said. Before. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I did,” Sierra nodded, moving closer to Nico. With the height difference of the steps, they were face to face. Sierra inhaled deeply and released it slowly as she thought about exactly how she wanted to word her thoughts. “I didn’t give you a chance to respond properly and you said you didn’t mean to break my heart and I have to know what that means.”

Nico looked less unsure in that moment; Sierra had been expecting the exact opposite. He smiled at her, albeit sadly, and half shrugged in an apologetic manner more than morose, “That’s what it means. I really thought I was making you miserable, muus. You deserve better than that.”

Sierra made sure to make eye contact with him as she said, “The only time you made me miserable was when you told me we should stop seeing each other, Nico.”

“I’m sorry, muus,” he whispered, dropping his eyes to his hand that he was pushing into his pocket. “I was actually going to give this to you before but I thought better of it.”

It was a small piece of paper, torn from wherever Nico had found blank paper, and Sierra took it with a slightly shaky hand. She was smiling, though, as she took it, her heart beating rapidly against her ribcage.

She’d barely finished the last word before she surged forward, pulling Nico towards her with her hands holding his cheeks.

Muus, I’ll always be there for you when you need me. You just have to call. Ich han dich gern.

#nico hischier fic #nico hischier imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #homemade fic #fic: devils

218 notes · View notes

slutforsilverfoxes · 2 years

Note

can you do part 2 of the sierra six smut where they meet again?? I absolutely loved it !!!

A/N: Wild Child by the Black Keys is such a perfect outro for The Gray Man- I also think it’s perfect for describing Six & reader’s relationship. This fic admittedly wrote itself over the past couple of weeks, and it just kept getting longer and longer 🥲 I don’t know if I like how it progressed because I’ve finished bits and pieces of it at odd hours whilst in the hospital, but I hope y’all like it! It’s got a lil dash of every genre thrown in there (ya girl loves her flavor 👩🏾‍🍳) Also I apologize in advance if anything seems OOC for Court, I did my best but I’m still nervous about writing for him 🙈

Tags: @ejhpmarvelsimp

———

“Contact?”

“Negative,” you readjust the comm device in your ear and pull your lipstick out of your handbag, pursing your lips in the car’s rearview mirror to apply a shock of red. “Oasis is too smart for that. Just tailing for now.”

“Timeline?” your handler follows up bluntly, pulling an eye roll from you in retaliation.

“Can you speak in more than two syllables? You know, sometimes you’re the only person I speak to for weeks at a time.”

“Do you have an estimated timeline?”

You sigh, muttering out a, “Thank you,” for the technical adherence to your request before laying out the details of your proposed op. “…and that should give me the in to confirm that she’s distributing Rainbow,” you conclude. “So at least three weeks to make contact, get comfy, and catch her in the act.”

“Can we accelerate that to two weeks?”

“No,” you make a face in the mirror, grateful that the conversation is audio only. “I’m going to need a little more time to catch a soccer mom by day, cartel head by night.”

“Affirmative, Agent. Carmichael wants a status report in 72 hours.”

The line goes dead with a soft click as you mock your handler under your breath, “Carmichael wants a status report in 72 hours. Yeah? Well, Denny can suck my left tit, fucking-”

You continue grumbling as you climb out of the car and sling your purse over your shoulder before dropping your features into a bored expression and tucking a pair of stupidly expensive sunglasses into your hair- more of a statement piece than protective eyewear, really.

Snagging a shopping cart from just outside the entrance, you step into the grocery store and begin cruising down the aisles on the hunt for your target. You eventually find her by the fresh produce, judiciously sniffing limes in an apparent search for freshness. Your facial muscles twitch with the urge to frown at the odd display, but instead you suppress your natural inclination and force a smile as her gaze lifts to meet yours. She flashes her pearly whites in return, none the wiser, and you direct your eyes toward the aromatics. You don’t want her growing suspicious, and you’re fairly confident not even Oasis would have the balls to be openly dealing Rainbow in the produce section of the only grocery store in town.

She turns her way down an aisle and you toss some parsley and thyme into your cart with a shrug before easing into the parallel aisle, a soft gasp leaving your parted lips at the sight before you.

Who but Sierra fucking Six is standing in the middle of the bakery and breakfast section, arguing about the merits of chocolate versus fruit-flavored cereal with a teenage girl, a box of each dwarfed in his large hands. Having apparently relented to the young girl’s whims, he tosses both boxes in their cart before leaning against the handle as he plans out his next tactical move, easing a scrap of paper out of the back pocket of his jeans. You can’t help but follow the movement of his nimble fingers as they search his pocket, marveling over the way the denim hugs his muscular legs and the curve of his ass. Letting your gaze travel back up, heat floods your cheeks at the way his t-shirt stretches over his taut muscles, the fabric looking almost comical, the seams practically begging to be let out as they suffocate on his biceps. He smooths a hand over his goatee as he laughs at something the teen said, the movement drawing your eyes further upward. His honey-blonde hair has grown out a bit since you last saw him, still neatly trimmed but now with a few loose strands falling across his forehead. Despite physically looking the same, there’s a different air to Six. He seems almost… comfortable.

Domesticity suits him well (and somehow manages to make him even more attractive), and you find your thoughts wandering to his role in this girl’s life. Is he a single dad? Uncle? Is she his latest protective assignment?

The duo disappears in the blink of an eye and you half-wonder if your target slipped some of her product into the veggie sprinklers causing you to hallucinate. There’s no way you’re seeing Six stateside in a grocery store in the middle of Nowhere, USA after spending eight months traipsing across Europe.

Clearing your thoughts with a slight shake of your head, you catch up to your target and continue following her around the store, absentmindedly tossing grocery items into your cart and stopping to peruse the wine rack as she does the same.

An alluring mix of cologne and distinct masculine musk wafts over you sending your sympathetic nervous system into overdrive, your heart thudding against your ribcage.

Evidently you hadn’t been drugged.

“That white pairs great with a good branzino,” an all too familiar silky voice drapes languidly across your body causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin.

Without looking up, you retort, “Thanks for the advice, but I won’t be enjoying it. It’s for my boss.”

“Does your boss have a Prada purse,” he murmurs by your ear, his sheer proximity making you shiver, “because she’s looking this way.”

“I’m sure everything in this town with a pulse is looking this way,” you shoot back, still unwilling to meet his eyes.

“Then let’s give them something to look at.” You register the teasing lilt to his voice moments before his fingers are tucking under your chin, tilting your head up to press his supple lips against your own.

The bottle of wine remains in your hand as you throw your arms around his neck in an attempt to get as close as physically possible, your eyelids fluttering closed as memories of your night together pervade your senses.

“Y/N,” he growled softly, deep voice bringing you out of your reverie. You picked your head up to find his gaze locked on yours, the sight of his lust blown pupils and reddened lips causing your breath to come out in sharp pants. “Eyes on me.”

And then his mouth was on you, consuming you from the inside out and trapping you in a world of him until the only discernible word falling from your lips was his name.

“Nice to see you again, old timer,” you whisper against his lips, pulling back with a smile, finally opening your eyes and instantly drowning in a sea of blue.

“Told you I’d find you, kid,” a triumphant smirk has the audacity to grace his beautiful mouth.

“Uh no,” you hold up a finger in contradiction, glancing over his shoulder to ensure Oasis is still in sight, “technically I found you.”

“But were you looking for me?”

“Shut up,” you place your hand against his chest and shove, only succeeding in moving him a few inches but enough to ease the wine bottle into your cart. The man is more tree than human and the unbidden image of you climbing his body flashes through your mind.

“So,” he breaks you out of your lustful thoughts, leaning against your cart handle and offering you the perfect window to track your target as you talk- she’s suddenly very interested in the white wine, her eyes darting over to the two of you every so often- “what’s your boss got you up to these days?”

“Mergers and acquisitions, the usual,” you shrug easily. Murders and asset retrieval.

“New business in town?” He cocks an eyebrow out of curiosity, fingers slipping into the front pocket of his jeans before returning triumphantly with a piece of gum.

Your mouth goes dry as he wets his lips before snagging the rectangle between his teeth, torturously pulling the pink gum into his mouth bit by bit. “A colorful one,” you rasp out, subtly keying him in to your operation surrounding the quiet expansion of Rainbow.

He nods in acknowledgment, chewing thoughtfully. “So I’ll be seeing you around.” He presses a kiss to your lips, turns on his heel, and disappears in a wave of woodsy cologne, the faint taste of watermelon gum, and a parting wink thrown over his shoulder.

———

Days later you’re parked in the school carpool lane gathering intel on Oasis and her teenagers, your sedan four vehicles behind her massive SUV. You let your head rest against the cracked driver-side window as your eyes scan the parents and guardians milling about. Your eyes continue cataloguing faces as your brain checks out, thoughts drifting to your friendly neighborhood blonde-haired, blue-eyed, sinfully-tongued former partner in crime. You haven’t seen him since that day in the grocery store, and even though you’re grateful that he hasn’t been around to distract you, you can’t help but expect him to be walking along every corner you round. Although, truth be told, you’d be very surprised to see Six at the establishments that Oasis frequents.

Your mind drifts back for the umpteenth time this week to a moment you shared at HQ with Agent Miranda after you picked up your dossier for this op. “Quaint little town, nice change of pace,” she smiled as you crossed paths in the hall. Leaning forward conspiratorially, she tacked on, “Watch out for Six!”

You’ve spent one too many brain cells analyzing and overanalyzing her words- surely she meant Watch your six, and happened to mix up the idiom. But Dani was nothing if not intentional with her diction, and you swore you’d heard her correctly. If that was the case, had she and Six stayed in touch since his curious departure from the agency? Had the Sierra Six, the Gray Man, the expert silent assassin, Mister No Worldly Possessions or Connections been…asking about you?

Your passenger door suddenly flies open, the hulking form taking up space in your mind rent-free folding its way into your car, the familiar whiff of cologne forcing your coiled muscles to relax- marginally.

“Put the safety back on, cowgirl.”

“Why?” you demand, no patience for pleasantries.

“Because I like my face intact. Nails look pretty,” he juts his chin to indicate your fresh manicure, courtesy of your target’s weekly visits for fill-ins.

“No,” you refine your question coolly, retracting your trigger finger and replacing the safety on your weapon, “why are you here? In my car? Potentially blowing my cover?”

“Came to pick up my Claire, saw you,” he shrugs as if this is an everyday occurrence for two highly trained operatives, glancing at passerby and students on the sidewalk to ensure no one’s taken an interest in you two.

“Your Claire, hm?” You raise your coffee cup to your lips and take a long drag, the combination of the caffeine and heat sending your neurons buzzing.

“Kind of my niece, kind of my little sister,” he elaborates, keeping an eye out the window for her. “She’s Fitz’s niece, but y’know how our life goes,” he shrugs again, the only semblance of emotion he’ll allow himself to show. “So she’s my Claire now.”

“Court,” your lips pull into a frown and you reach for his hand on instinct, catching the subtle lift of the corner of his mouth in response. The simple gesture is enough for him to understand what you’re trying to say.

“Kid and I have a pretty good thing going here, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind a lady friend in her life,” he muses softly, studiously watching the middle schoolers fly out the front doors and avoiding your gaze as if you’ll be able to see all of his vulnerabilities and insecurities in his stormy eyes.

Sensing an opportunity to break down another one of his walls, you cry out, “Why, yes, Court, I will marry you!”

He barks out a laugh and shakes his head, playfully knuckling against the soft skin of your cheek as your mouth twists into a wry smile. “Let’s start with dinner first.” He eases the passenger door open and steps out onto the sidewalk, offering you a slip of paper between his index and middle fingers through the crack of the window.

You unfold the paper to find a local address in his scrawl, calling to his retreating back, “What time?”

“Guess.”

———

You rock back and forth on your heels on the doorstep at six in the evening, a fresh bottle of the fateful white wine in your hands. The paneling detail on the front door is suddenly fascinating, allowing you to hyper-focus on anything but the nerves fluttering in your stomach. You’ve taken out corrupt diplomats, toppled drug cartels, faced some of the most dangerous men and women that the devil himself would shy away from, all by your mid-twenties, yet you’ve got butterflies in your tummy at the prospect of failing to earn a teenage girl’s approval.

Oh how the mighty have fallen.

If you’re honest with yourself, you’re not sure why you’re nervous. Operatives don’t have the luxury of falling in love and playing house. Sure, you enjoyed your time with the Sierra and the sex was incredible, but you both know that nothing more could ever come of this. Y’know how our life goes, Six himself had said, and he was damn right.

“You must be Y/N.” You lift your eyes to meet the brunette’s sharp gaze, her eyes quietly scrutinizing you as she does a subtle once over.

“You must be Claire,” you offer your hand in greeting and she shakes it firmly, all business.

She spots the floral tattoo on your shoulder and the corner of her mouth lifts in a manner matching that of her guardian, “I like your ink.” Claire cranes her neck to gaze further into the house and you hear a huff in response to her unspoken question.

“Absolutely not.”

“But-”

“Nope,” Six comes into view and pulls the door open further, beckoning you inside.

“Regretting adding that lady friend to her life?” you tease as you step through the doorway, toeing off your shoes in the corner of the foyer as Claire grumbles on about almost an adult and annoyingly overprotective.

“Not quite yet, but I’m sure we’ll get there,” he smirks at you, enjoying the way your nose scrunches indignantly in response. You follow the two of them into the dining room, your mouth immediately beginning to water at the delicious smells emanating from the kitchen. “When’s the last time you had a proper home-cooked meal?” Court asks with a smile as he places your proffered wine bottle on the table.

“Properly? Ten years, give or take,” you shrug, your voice dropping to nearly a whisper as you busy yourself playing with the hem of your shirt. You honestly can’t remember the last time you had a nice dinner with enjoyable company, not at a group home or hostel, not on a honey-pot mission, not memorizing a dossier on a shitty hotel couch while forcing down a frozen meal before heading out under the cover of night.

In a surprising display of affection that makes your chest warm for reasons you don’t have time to unpack, Court presses his lips against your temple, bringing you back to the present. “Then I sincerely hope you enjoy this one.”

“And I sincerely hope you didn’t go through all this trouble just for me.”

You follow him into the kitchen to help, taking the plates Claire passes to you from the cabinet as she quietly confides, “We definitely ordered in but someone was very particular about the menu.”

You and Six fall into a comfortable silence as Claire chats about her day, setting forks on the placemats as you gently lay the plates down behind her. You watch, mesmerized, as the blonde nimbly uncorks the sweet wine and divvies it up between your glasses. Something about setting the table together, doing such a normal nuclear family activity, humanizes the two of you, and you’re surprised that the motions have come back to you so naturally.

Six eases your chair out and you smile up at him as you take your seat. Dinner progresses with easy conversation, but then the agent in you senses the shift in the air and you know the teen is gearing up for trouble.

“So…” Claire drags out the word, flaking off a piece of the immaculately cooked fish, “how did you meet Six?”

“Work,” the two of you rush out in unison, meeting each other’s gaze across the table. Claire smirks knowingly at her guardian and Six makes a face at her in response, mouthing something you can’t quite catch.

Raising an eyebrow and looking between the two of them you ask, “Am I missing something here?”

“Don’t answer that,” he threatens playfully with a pointed finger at the youngster.

She crosses her arms and raises her eyebrows, and you can’t help the grin that appears on your face from their shared mannerisms. “Are you gonna let me try the wine?”

“For the second time this evening, absolutely not.”

“Fine,” Claire smiles angelically, turning her full attention towards you. “Courtland’s been talking about you nonstop for the past couple weeks.”

He growls something unintelligible and your hand flies to your mouth, hiding your chuckle in a cough.

“Don’t choke,” Court admonishes, his tone implying that he wouldn’t be too upset if you happened to suffer for just a moment.

“Thanks for your concern, Courtland,” you simper.

“As I was saying,” Claire clears her throat to redirect your attention, a smug smile gracing her features, “some days I still can’t get more than three words out of him, but suddenly he’s thinking about you and turns into quite the conversationalist.”

“That’s interesting,” you pause to sip your wine, an eyebrow arching in Six’s direction, “because he was very vocal when we first met.”

His jaw ticks and his eyes narrow at your innuendo, and you both know you’re thinking about his low grunts and growls as he fucked you all those months ago. Nothing if not consistent, he merely grunts now in acknowledgement.

“What’s the matter, Court?” you smile easily. “Cat got your tongue?”

He clears his throat and stands from the table abruptly- a bold move considering his dick is already stiffening at the thought of your soft skin beneath his fingertips once again. “Dessert, anyone?”

“You know I’ll never turn down ice cream,” Claire grins.

You scoot your chair back from the table, gathering the plates as you stand. “I’ll come help.”

“Oh, I bet you will,” the blonde grumbles under his breath, subtly adjusting his pants as he walks to the kitchen.

You purposefully brush up against him on your way to the sink and he bites back a groan. “Do you not have work to do tonight, Agent?”

“Drug pushing mommy’s gotta sleep,” you shrug, rinsing the plates off, “and so do I.”

“Just sleep?” he murmurs in your ear, gliding his nose down the curve of your neck and pressing his body against you so you can feel the full weight of his question.

You let your head fall back with a sigh offering him better access to the sensitive skin of your neck. “Court,” it’s a whine, a plea, a gentle nudge in the right direction.

“Suspiciously quiet in there!” the teenager calls from the dining room, earning herself a low, chastising, “Claire…”

“You’re quite the daddy,” you test the waters with your compliment, relishing the way his eyes flash at the title and filing that tidbit away for later.

His gaze drops to your parted lips and he licks his own before pulling away and opening the freezer. “Vanilla or chocolate?” he asks calmly, appreciating the cold snapping him back to his senses.

“Chocolate,” you hum, unable to resist the urge to slap his ass as he’s bent over perusing the shelves. He jumps at the sudden contact and you laugh delightedly at your ability to keep arguably the world’s greatest assassin on edge. “I’m not a big fan of vanilla.”

———

Your earpiece crackles to life later that night, your handler’s tinny voice coming through with, “Where the fuck are you, Y/L/N?”

“Little,” you breathe out, “busy right now.” Court grins wickedly, languidly kissing down your nearly naked body and dragging his stubble against your sensitive skin before nipping along the meat of your thigh.

“That’s not an answer. Why is your heart rate skyrocketing?”

“Oh, y’know,” you suck in air through your teeth as the handsome devil nuzzles your folds over your panties, forcing you to bite down on your hand to avoid becoming a little too familiar with your handler. “Went for a run.”

You tug sharply on Six’s locks to get him to stop, but the feeling of your nails against his scalp serves the opposite purpose. He yanks the frilly fabric covering your core down with a vengeance and presses the flat of his tongue against your folds, your hips rising of their own accord to meet his mouth halfway.

“Do you have an update for Carmichael?”

Your eyelids flutter shut when he nuzzles your clit with his nose, darting the tip of his tongue just past your wet folds. You force your eyes open and turn your head to the nightstand, focusing on the glaring 10:17 looking back at you.

“Can I get you a report in the morning?”

“Do you want to piss Denny off?”

“God, you’re annoyingly persistent,” you huff at both your handler and the blonde between your legs looking up at you with a sinful smile. “This operation goes a lot-” your voice catches in your throat and your head drops back against the pillow as Court plunges his tongue inside you, “deeper than I initially thought.”

“Elaborate.”

“I’m getting an intimate view of her soldiers,” you rasp out, subconsciously clamping your thighs around Six’s head as he eats you out like a man possessed, fingers digging into your skin to keep you down against the bed. “Need some more time to figure out their pecking order.”

“And then you’ll infiltrate?”

“Mhm, yeah, I’m close!” You hurriedly end the connection and release the wanton moan that’s been growing in your throat throughout the infuriating conversation, enjoying the way Court growls against your pussy in response. “I was serious,” you half laugh, half cry out, “about being close, Court.”

“I can feel it,” he rumbles, “so give it to me.” And then his tongue is spearing in and out of you, mapping out your most sensitive spots, curling in the most delicious of ways, devouring you, consuming you. He splays his fingers across your stomach to hold you in place as he feasts on you, his thumb moving to trace tight circular patterns around your clit and pushing you over the edge into sheer ecstasy. You cover your mouth with your hand as his name repeatedly falls past your lips like a prayer, keenly aware of the sleeping teen just down the hall.

“You look so beautiful like this,” Court sighs almost reverently, leaning on his elbows to brush his lips against yours as he smiles down at your blissfully fucked-out face.

You let your tongue slip into his mouth and tangle lazily with his, the fact that you can taste yourself on him making you delirious with desire. Trailing your fingers down his bare back, you tuck your hands under the waistband of his pants and squeeze his ass before shoving his remaining clothing down his muscular legs. He chuckles against your mouth at the sensation as he kicks off his pants and boxers, moving to kiss along your jaw as he eases his deliciously hard cock between your folds, teasing but not yet pushing into you. “Please,” you whine out, wrapping your legs around his lower back and pressing your heels against the taut muscle there, urging him to give in, to fill you up.

You confess around a gasp, “I’ve been thinking about this for the past eight months,” as Court mercifully slots himself between your thighs. He cups your jaw and presses his nose against the hollow of your throat as he rocks against you, drawing out a whine from the very depths of your being. Your heart flutters in your ribcage as he returns his lips to your own, your tongues tangling unhurriedly in a sensuous dance as he curves his hands around your shoulders and bottoms out with each gentle thrust. You realize, somewhat terrifyingly, that this doesn’t feel like your previous encounter when you were desperate to connect with another human and feel alive again. He’s taking his time with you, kissing you like his life depends on it, gently guiding you both towards orgasm. This man is leaving a brand on your soul, and you’re suddenly glad that your life is one of solitude because, you know now with an earth-shattering sense of clarity, no other lover will ever compare to him. Your chest swells with an uncharacteristic warmth at the thought as the coil in your belly snaps and you tighten around him, encouraging him to please fill me up, Court, please.

Last time, he made you feel human; now, he makes you feel whole.

You tuck yourself against his solid form, sharing lazy kisses as you card your fingers through his hair and bask in your afterglow when you suddenly sit up with a start, something Claire said over dinner having poked through your subconscious. “How long have you been keeping tabs on me?”

He rises slowly, brushing your hair onto your shoulder and pressing kisses to your neck. “Hm?”

“Court,” you admonish softly, “how long?”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” he mumbles, now nibbling along your jaw in a blatant attempt to distract you.

“Claire said you’ve been talking about me for weeks. I’ve been here for eight days. Fess up.”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Oh my god,” you smack his chest with the back of your hand as another realization dawns on you and he winces playfully. “You knew I was getting this op before I did!”

He falls back onto the pillow, folding his arms behind his head to watch you put the pieces together and making you want to forego your interrogation in lieu of wrapping your legs around him once more. “Did I?”

“And,” you force yourself to focus, “you have been tracking where I am through Dani, which means I’m not crazy and she really did say ‘Watch out for Six’!”

“Did she now?”

“I’ve been trying to convince myself she said ‘Watch your six’ for longer than I’d like to admit.”

“Loud guns have been known to cause hearing loss.”

“Courtland,” you growl out, “that is such a gross breach of confidentiality.” You huff, crossing your arms before begrudgingly admitting, “But it’s also weirdly sweet.”

“In that case,” he smiles angelically, “I’ve been checking on you since you walked down that hallway in Prague.”

“You could’ve called. Emailed. Relayed a message through Dani. Sent a fucking pigeon or something.”

“Y’know, the kids call it ‘tweeting’ these days.”

“You are-”

“Hilarious? Charming?”

“Infuriating,” you grumble, tugging the bedsheet up over your body and purposefully lying down facing away from him. He wraps one arm around you and effortlessly pulls you closer, your smaller form perfectly slotting into the curve of his large body. “I don’t like you.”

“Yeah? Glad we cleared that up,” he counters easily, slipping his arm under your head and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Courtland.”

“I will forever regret telling Claire my name.”

———

You wake the next day with a smile on your face, enveloped by the slightly spicy, woodsy scent that you’ve subconsciously come to associate with a sense of security. Rolling onto your side with a groan, you find a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt neatly folded into a pile in place of Court’s body. You wash up in the bathroom before donning the change of clothes, cuffing the pant legs to fit your petite frame. Following the scent of brewing coffee, you head into the kitchen and are greeted with the sight of Court in a strikingly similar casual outfit, hovering over the stove.

“Morning,” you hum, slipping onto one of the barstools and leaning your chin in your hands.

“Good morning,” he answers over his shoulder in return, stealing the very breath from your lungs with a dazzling smile. “Clothes fit okay?”

“Okay enough,” you laugh, sticking your leg out from behind the island counter so he can admire your handiwork.

“Good,” he nods once in approval, then turns his attention back to the stove. “Got some scrambled eggs and bacon going, coffee should be finishing up.”

You hop off the stool and snag two mugs from the cabinet, filling them nearly to the brim with room for a dash of creamer and enough sugar to satisfy your sweet tooth. The two of you move as easily through preparing breakfast as you had on your mission eight months ago, the memory bringing a smile to your face. Claire joins you in the kitchen a short time later, dropping her backpack onto the stool you’d vacated earlier and sharing a smile with her guardian as he slides a plate in front of her. “You two enjoy your sleepover?”

“Hey,” Court snaps his fingers with his eyes narrowed playfully, “eat your breakfast and get your ass in the car within the next fifteen minutes, Fitzroy.”

“You’d think you’d be in a better mood this morning, Gentry,” she shoots back, a gleam in her eye as she scoops up a forkful of eggs.

“Incredible, it’s like pay-per-view,” you mutter delightedly over the lip of your mug.

“You should hang out here all the time, we’re very entertaining,” Claire offers nonchalantly, and Court turns to you with one eyebrow quirked.

“What’s this whole thing you’ve got going on?” you question, pointing to your own brow. “Does that mean you concur?”

“I was gonna offer myself, but I wanted to talk to the kid first,” he shrugs with an easy smile. “I’ve stayed in enough of the agency’s sad apartments to know that our place is a substantial improvement.”

It turns out to be much more than a substantial improvement.

Over the next three weeks, you find yourself seamlessly blending into the household, using the two of them as your cover on family outings to track Oasis and her family. You and your once impromptu partner team up again on Friday nights, going on dates at the restaurants your target and her husband frequent- and God, does the blonde clean up nicely, a simple pair of slacks, a tight shirt, and a jacket accenting his muscles in just the right places. Most days, you return from your time ingratiating yourself with Oasis’ right hand men to Court and Claire either working at the dining room table or spread out on the couch watching a movie, a spot under the blanket calling your name. Court has taken to making your coffee just the way you like it every morning (all the while ribbing you about how it’s arguably more sugar than caffeine) while you prepare three lunches for the day ahead. He waits for you to return home every evening so you don’t dine alone, and you climb into the king-sized bed together every night, sometimes exploring each other’s bodies until dawn breaks, sometimes cuddling and talking about anything and everything until you drift off to a suspiciously restful sleep.

You find yourself lulled into a level of domesticity that you could get used to, a thought that both scares and excites you to your core. It’s the closest you’ve come to being part of a family in years, and the idea of losing it when this op ends makes your heart ache with a pain you swore you’d locked away the day you joined the agency.

———

“I’ve got the popcorn!” you sing, inelegantly flopping onto the couch and tucking your legs under you with the bowl in your lap on your fourth weekend at Casa FitzGentry, as you’ve come to privately call it. Court takes up his spot next to you, Claire settling into his other side before situating the large blanket across your little group and nodding for you to scoot the snack into Court’s lap. You reach forward to press play on the remote, starting yet another cheesy heist movie that you and the former Sierra enjoy critiquing as thunder rumbles in the distance. Halfway through the film, the power flickers momentarily and you and Court share a look, his hands almost imperceptibly tightening their grip around the two of you. Claire huffs quietly, used to the agent’s slight paranoia from a life spent looking over his shoulder, but she tucks herself further into the crook of her guardian’s arm nonetheless. The rest of the movie progresses uneventfully, and Claire lets out a yawn before bidding the two of you goodnight, smiling as you both insist that she lock her door- at least for tonight.

Assured that the teen is safe in her windowless room, you and Court decide to take up residence on the couch for the night, the living room being closer to Claire than the master bedroom down the hall.

“Court?” you whisper into the darkness, absentmindedly pulling his hand into your lap and tracing random patterns along his rough palm as you watch the hallway, the former Sierra’s eyes trained on the front door.

“Hm?”

Genuine fear- not for yourself, but for the young girl you’ve come to appreciate as a friend and the closest thing you’ve got to family- roils in your gut, rearing its ugly head and reminding you why operatives don’t form connections. “I’m sorry for bringing this home.”

A flash of lightning illuminates the ranch house, and you hone in on a figure clad in all black in the hallway, your eyes narrowing, jaw setting, heart rate kicking into gear. Court squeezes your hand in acknowledgment before you part, and you creep silently down the hall, an animalistic growl escaping your throat when you recognize the door the intruder is gearing up to kick down. The point of your elbow connects with the soft flesh of his throat, reducing his shock to nothing but a soft gurgle as his hyoid bone gives way with a sickening crunch. He falls to the floor gasping for breath and you take the advantage to climb on top of his body, straddling his hips as he weakly tries to fight you off. You grab fistfuls of his shirt and bodily slam his head against the hardwood floor once, twice, three times, your breath coming in sharp intervals through your flared nostrils.

A strong pair of arms twists around your waist and you turn sharply, ready to fight for your life until a soothing, “Easy there, easy,” floats over your ears in the pitch darkness.

Your heart rate immediately starts slowing and a vague memory about a reflex in the aorta flashes unbidden through your mind from a high school science class. “I’m good,” you nod with a sniff, shaking out of Court’s grip.

“Yeah?” He flicks the hallway light on, raising an eyebrow at the crimson scene painted before you. “You usually don’t get this messy.”

“My targets usually don’t threaten my family,” you respond coolly, dragging the body away from Claire’s door before leaving to call your cleanup crew. Mind racing with tactics to accelerate your endgame and annihilate Oasis for this blatant attack, you miss the smile that flashes across Court’s face at your mention of your little crew as family.

You turn at the sound of crunching gravel as you end your call, the sight of the still-half-asleep teen splayed across Court’s back causing warmth to rise in your chest again, a feeling that’s occurring a tad too frequently for your liking around these two in particular.

Feelings make you weak, weakness makes you vulnerable, and vulnerability ends with a trip to the morgue.

Court drapes Claire along the backseat of your sedan, tucking his jacket under her head as a pillow before slipping into the passenger seat as you fold yourself behind the wheel. You take a circuitous route to your assigned rental apartment to ensure you’re not being followed, and you carry the minimal luggage Court hastily threw together as he piggybacks the teen upstairs. After getting Claire situated in the small bed, the two of you sit shoulder to shoulder on the floor at the foot of the bed as she sleeps, both your eyes and your silenced weapons trained on the apartment door.

As the first streaks of sunlight bathe the room in warm hues, Court allows himself to nod off knowing that you’ll keep his Claire safe, his head lolling against your shoulder. You press your lips to his forehead, whispering three words that you haven’t uttered in over a decade, tears welling in your eyes at the realization that you can, in fact, still feel such depth of emotion. A renewed sense of purpose grows within you as the sun rises, and by the time your two sleeping beauties awake, you’ve made up your mind.

———

“Oasis has proven herself to be a greater threat than we originally anticipated. Permission to execute.”

“Negative, Agent, we need her alive and in custody to connect the dots on the expansion of Rainbow in other areas throughout the Midwest that you’ve uncovered.”

“Terry,” you rarely address your handler directly, hoping your use of his name forces him to understand the weight behind your words, “she’s willing to go to extreme lengths to protect this operation. She sent a hitman after my- to my apartment,” you recover quickly, cursing yourself for allowing a semblance of idyllic family life to affect your judgment. How had you managed to make such a mess of things?

“Christ, Y/L/N,” his sigh crackles through your earpiece. “Any idea how your identity got compromised?”

“None,” you answer honestly, disappointed in yourself for not only failing to complete your mission cleanly, but also for putting the people you’ve come to care about at risk. “What’s the exfil plan here?”

“Y/L/N? It’s Carmichael.” Oh joy. “Proceed with the op as planned, but accelerate the execution phase to tonight. Bring her into custody and then report to HQ tomorrow morning so we can figure out how exactly you fucked this up.”

“But she knows who I am, knows what I look like.”

“Are you saying you can’t get it done?”

“No, I-” you pinch the bridge of your nose and release your breath in a slow exhale. “I’ll figure it out and report back to you when I have her detained.”

“Good girl.”

———

You slip back into the apartment just after three in the morning, peeling off your jumper soaked through with blood, sweat, and rain, slumping against the door with a sigh. After a few breaths to compose yourself, you shuffle further into the apartment and are met with Court sprawled across the small couch, his arm draped over his forehead. He mumbles something under his breath and you move closer. “What’d you say?”

“Asked if another cunt was successfully incapacitated,” he repeats, the shock of his question and impeccable memory causing an incredulous giggle to escape your lips.

“Fuck,” you hiss through your laughter, instinctively grabbing at your smarting ribs. “That bitch is lucky my directive was to have her detained. Otherwise she’d be six feet under with her boy toys right now.”

You lift his legs up, easing your sore body onto the couch before laying his legs back down across your lap. “You don’t have to go, Y/N.”

Your eyes dart to meet his baby blues, piercing through your soul in the darkness. “I didn’t say-”

“You made up your mind this morning. I could hear it in your voice.”

“Courtland,” you sigh, pushing your hair off of your sweaty face.

“Don’t government name me,” he grumbles, moving to sit up and pull your head against his chest. You’re shaking, but you can’t pinpoint whether it’s from exhaustion, fear, or a mix of both. “You’re a damn good agent, but you don’t have to be a CIA pawn for the rest of your life. You can go into private work, too.” His fingers trace a gentle pattern along your spine, encouraging you to take as deep of a breath as you can muster in your present condition.

“I haven’t done my time, haven’t helped enough people. I mean, Christ, Court, you were in the game for how many years and they still wouldn’t-”

“Hey,” he cuts off your panicked rambling with a gentle brush of his lips against yours. “You know there’s no contingency plan for people like us. You either kill the bad guys or you die trying, and that used to be good enough for me until…” He trails off, looking toward the door Claire is fast asleep behind.

“If anything, anything had happened to you two because of me-”

“I know,” he placates softly.

You lick your lips and open your mouth to speak before thinking better of repeating your confession from the morning out loud. Instead, you let Court guide your body down on top of his, snuggling against the warmth of his skin and allowing the steady rise and fall of his chest to lull you into a much needed rest. “In the morning, you’ll go to your debrief, and then we’ll figure this out,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. “And kid?” You stay quiet, trying to control your breathing despite the fact you’re sure he can feel your heart pounding through your chest in anticipation of what he’s about to say. “For the record, I feel the same damn way about you.”

#sierra six #sierra six x reader #sierra six x female reader #sierra six x y/n #sierra six smut #court gentry #courtland gentry #court gentry x reader #courtland gentry x reader #courtland gentry x y/n #the gray man #court gentry x y/n #sierra six x you #court gentry x you #court gentry x female reader

336 notes · View notes

real-total-drama-takes · 7 months

Note

As requested Total Drama Divorce headcanons

-Heather and Alejandro get married in like 2016, then get divorced in 2017, but then remarry in 2019 and divorce in 2023

Crimson and innui never actually gets married but aare one of the few total drama relationships to last

Izzy and Owen I don't think even get married they break up at some point around 2012 after world tour. That's why he wasn't in all stars Owen was depressed

Bridgette and Geoff get married and have like a big celebrity wedding. And then have a big celebrity divorce that's really messy

Lindsey and Tyler probably stay together. Even if they stop loving each other I feel like they're the type to stay together because is convenient

Sam and Dakota are getting divorced come one Sam is he most divorced guy I've ever seen. Sorry Samkota fans :-(

Harold and Leshawna are kinda in the same boat as Sam and Dakota. I don't wanna say it but I think they'd split up. I just don't know what they'd talk about they don't seem to have that many shades interests.

Noah and Emma stay together for like five years and break up. Neither of them are particularly surprised nor do either of them take it badly.

Duncan and Courtney get between action and world tour to spite their parents probably. You can technically get married at 16 in Canada and legal loopholes feels up both of their Ally's. They both do it to spite people and basically ruined any potential relationship they could have. You can guess what happens after world tour.

Devin and Carrie are such classic married young divorced young couples I can't even describe it. Does this ship have fans an I gonna make someone mad with this because I don't think anyone cares

Stephanie and Ryan get divorced. It takes them too long. Significantly too long. Like they have kids and get them tied up into the problem.

I mostly stuck to canon ships but eh what the hell

Cody and Sierra get divorced but there are two possibilities. Either Cody divorces Sierra because she keeps acting the way she did before and is unable to change. Or she does change but doing so is forced to realize just how flawed of a person Cody is.

-🦆

#ducknon #total drama

25 notes · View notes

peacock-mooncat · 1 month

Text

♦ B A S I C S ♦

Name: Sierra bihn Gamduhla

Nicknames: Sie (to her friends), the Jewel of Thavnair (to her admirers), and goddess (to Ul'dahn elites with enough gil)

Age: Late 20s, early 30s

Nameday: 13th Sun of the Sixth Umbral Moon

Race: Miqo'te, Keeper of the Moon 🌙☺️

Gender: Female

Orientation: Pansexual

Profession: Adventurer, dancer, socialite

♦ P H Y S I C A L ~ A S P E C T S ♦

Hair: A dark, saturated purple with blonde streaks, kept at medium length with straight-cut bangs in front. Some of her blonde streaks are natural, but she likes to add a few herself.

Eyes: A vibrant red-magenta, with the trademark large moonkitty eyes 🥺

Skin: Rich brown

Tattoos/scars: A prominent scar runs across her left eye. No one has gotten her to say how it came to be, only that she considers it the fault of her own hubris.

♦ F A M I L Y ♦

Parents: Sierra never knew her father. She's descended from a long line of Thavnairian merchants; her mother is the current matriarch of her Keeper clan, and a decently successful merchant as well. Sierra doesn't talk about her too much, hinting that maybe their relationship is not cordial.

Siblings: Rhekka bihn Gamduhla is Sierra's much-younger, more-chaotic sister. Her and Sierra see eye-to-eye on very little.

Grandparents: Sierra's grandparents passed away before she was born.

In-laws and Other: Since she married Yrja, she's only got, uh, Fran and Balthier as in-laws. Well, technically anyway; it's likely neither of them know Sierra even exists.

Pets: Ingot, her Othardian Peacock! Sierra got Ingot when he was just a chick, and helped raise him. He grew quite a bit larger than she expected, and now helps ferry her across Etheirys.

♦ S K I L L S ♦

Abilities: Dancing, a bit of blue magic, hosting friends

Hobbies: Goldsmithing, reading Ishgardian romance novels, performing in minor events at the Carnivale

♦ T R A I T S ♦

Most Positive Trait: She tries her best to read a room and make everyone comfortable. Whether it's in a dungeon with fellow adventurers or relaxing with friends in safety, Sierra strives to keep spirits light -- sometimes to her detriment.

Most Negative Trait: Not all that glitters is gold -- gems, silks, and flesh fascinate just as well. While she normally has a good head on her shoulders, beautiful things make her weak. She's made some poor choices in life due to her greed for gil, due to a pretty girl's wink, or due to the promise of a rare gemstone.

♦ L I K E S ♦

Colors: Emerald green, deep purple, gold; jewel tones in general

Smells: Floral scents! The smell of Thavnair's markets, and of fresh-baked sweets

Textures: Smooth textures, especially fabrics. Silk is one of her favorites.

Drinks: Tea, though she's open and will try other drinks when the opportunity presents itself.

♦ O T H E R ~ D E T A I L S ♦

Smokes: She partakes of a smoking pipe every now and again in social situations, but it's not something she does on the regular.

Drinks: She drinks socially, and prefers tastier drinks to hard liquor.

Drugs: Not yet. Probably not likely, but the right one could pique her curiosity.

Mount Issuance: Ingot, her Othardian Peacock! ... deja vu.

Been Arrested: Nah, Sierra is fairly law-abiding.

------------------ Thanks for tagging me @iona-xiv, this was really fun!! ☺️

A'ight, time to start tagging -- sorry if you've already been tagged, I tried to check first but I might've missed it! @tsunael, @starforger, @airis-ray, @cassandra-allegra (GIMME YRJA LORE); I am 100% positive there are people I am forgetting and I am so sorry, my brain is mush after this post haha

#ffxiv #ffxiv oc #ffxiv meme #miqo'te #mooncat #keeper of the moon

11 notes · View notes

simplegenius042 · 1 month

Text

Fallout Casting for Ryomen Sukuna Matata for Jujutsu Kaisen Abridged react fic

"Fuck school! Be crime! Do gay!" - Ryomen Sukuna, Episode 2 JJK Abridged (by the Schmuck Squad).

Reasons To Why I Believe These Characters Should Be Casted listed below the cut:

Richard Grey/The Master (the leader of the Super Mutant Army and the main antagonist of Fallout (1997), seeking to evolve humanity into super mutants with the Forced Evolutionary Virus (FEV), however, is stopped by the Vault Dweller, Elrand Brandt, and his companions via the power of persuasion) -> Mostly the grotesque way his body is morphed and stuff, but you can imagine his mouth opening on Ryder's body like Sukuna does on Itadori's body.

Sulik (a tribal looking to save his sister in Fallout 2, was saved by the Chosen One, Finidy Mona, and joined her as a companion to find the GECK, while she also helps him save his sister from slavers) -> It's mostly his tattoos that got me to choose him as a potential candidate.

Stanislaus Braun (the Overseer of Vault 112 in Fallout 3, Braun is a sadistic old man who regularly tortures his captives in a world of virtual reality, but had known the location and use of the GECK, which lead James Dolen to seek him out (only to be transformed into a dog), but was later outwitted by Alph inside the VR world and Amata from within Vault 112) -> Evil for the sake of being evil? Hates a kid for no reason? Would definitely take over somebody's body if given the chance? Sukuna candidate.

Yes Man (a securitron Benny had tampered with to help him overthrow House, is key to the Independent Vegas ending of Fallout New Vegas. Courier Six, aka Ryder, finds him in Benny's penthouse, and teams up with the securitron to save Benny from Caesar and overthrow House together) -> Listen he's too cheery for his own good. And sarcastic too. Like Abridged Sukuna.

DiMA (the synth co-leader of Acadia in Fallout 4 Far Harbor DLC. He is also the "brother" of Nick Valentine, the person who gets the Sole Survivor, Nate, to admit that he's likely a synth himself and has been involved in the sketchy shit around Far Harbor) -> Though the least potent candidate, what cannot be denied is that DiMA disregards everything about morality when it comes to doing what he thinks is the ways things should be.

The Scorchbeast Queen (the motherfucking progenitor of the Scorched disease and the final boss of Fallout 76 (if players nuke her nest at Fissure Site Prime). The Resident, Vega, only survives her encounter with the Scorchbeast Queen because of the FEV that had partly transformed her) -> She looks as ugly as Sukuna's fingers.

John Henry Eden (the President who runs the Enclave in Fallout 3, has all the personalities of the past presidents copied and downloaded into his A.I. He intended to use the water purifier to release a modified FEV into the water to kill anyone with a trace of radiation in them. He attempted to get Amata onboard with this plan, but since it would technically kill Alph, Amata convinced the president to give her the virus to "use" and tricked Eden into self-destructing and run like hell while Raven Rock fell down around her, towards Alph and his companions who were fighting outside trying to get to her inside) -> Eden and Sukuna are all aboard the murder express.

Dean Domino (one of Ryder's temporary companions in Fallout New Vegas Dead Money DLC. He was friends with Frederick Sinclair and had used Vera Keyes to get him one step closer to the Sierra Madre vault, however America being nuked interrupted this heist and lead him to being ghoulified, and while trying to get into the Sierra Madre, had been forced by Father Elijah to help him get into the resort. Dean eventually betrays Ryder inside the Sierra Madre, having been unable to comprehend someone could be as smart as him, which leads to him getting filled with lead) -> Dean Domino is a selfish bastard, Ryomen Sukuna is a selfish bastard.

Dr Klein (a brain apart of the Think Tank in Fallout New Vegas Old World Blues DLC, he was the director of the Big MT. His speakers are set on a loud volume and he is quite an arrogant punk. Klein and the rest of the Think Tank had vivisected Ryder, taking her heart and spine (and losing her brain to Dr. Mobius) and would only allow her to leave if she dealt with Mobius and gave them the resources to explore the Mojave from the safety of Big MT) -> As loud as Abridged Sukuna is.

Ishmael Ashur (the leader of the Pitt in Fallout 3 The Pitt DLC, though he is the big boss of slavers and raiders, Ashur is trying to humanely find a cure for the Trog which his daughter Marie seems to be immune to. However, the Lone Wanderer, Alph's appearance in the Pitt shakes things up) -> If Ashur just lost his benevolent intentions behind his actions and was doing things for the evils, he could be a lot like Sukuna.

God (the alter who acts as the "conscience" to a nightkin called Dog in Fallout New Vegas Dead Money DLC, he looks out for Dog and wants to kill Father Elijah so badly. Ryder helps both Dog and God make peace with each other and merge them both into a new personality) -> God is the voice in Dog's head, and his voice is quite menacing. Like Sukuna, though Sukuna is more malevolent than God.

Remember, for the alternative option, REBLOG and put in the tags WHO else from the Fallout franchise should be Abridged!Megumi and WHY you think they'd better suit the role. Also if there is a tie, then a repost will be made with only the tied candidates, and you'd have to pick from them.

I've also created and will continue to update (until the polling is done) a Master List for the poll results of the casted winners. You can find it right here.

You can find my Fallout OC profiles Master List right here, which also includes a link to the original post where I pitched my react fic idea. Anyway, hope you enjoyed, chow!

11 notes · View notes

kinderartifact4 · 2 months

Text

For the god AU, I have a list of the current assigned gods I have for some of the characters, along with some notes on some of them.

The blanks are just stuff I haven’t decided on yet.

Noah- Morpheus, God of Dreams

+Morpheus is the oldest existing god, he only tolerates the company of a select few, Noah included

+Noah likes the quiet of his realm, it’s a good place to read or take a nap

+The pendant Morph gave Noah to call to him when needed, also doubles as a “Dreamvisitor”

Alejandro- Sēn & Astuto, God of Deceit

+Alejandro is their Vessel; they can’t enter the mortal realm physically without one. The gods sealed them away for being a danger to humanity. They’ll finish what they started, no matter what.

+Ironically, their heads resemble eels

+Al was legally dead when he was born

+His mom should’ve specified which god she was praying to; the line was left open for any one of them to answer, including them

Emma(RR)- [BLANK], The Blood God

+Kitty accidentally gave Emma one of the Blood God’s amulets as a gift

+Calling to the god was an accident

+Emma is an acolyte to the blood god, they made a deal

+Emma basically gave her life away to save her sister’s

+What Kitty doesn’t know won’t hurt her

Cody- [BLANK], God of Nurture

+She kidnapped him once and returned him a week later, just to teach his parents to keep an eye on their kid.

+He was completely fine, and having the best time, but still.

+She wasn’t very happy with his parents, she still isn’t.

+The only reason Cody didn’t die when he got mauled by a bear was because she intervened when he called.

+She typically knows better, especially when there are cameras. Thankfully Chris didn’t include her intervention in the final cut.

+As a kid, he called her “Mama”, still does sometimes actually, which isn’t uncommon among the children she interacts with.

+She typically doesn’t keep contact in their teenage years, something about “being too old for imaginary friends”. There are few exceptions, Cody included.

Heather- [BLANK], God of Order

+Heather is her Vessel

+Courtney was apparently a possible candidate

(more to be added)

Chris- God of Pride

+Chris IS the god

+That’s not his real name, and not the first he’s chosen

+He spends a good majority of his time living among mortals as if he was one of them

+Chef is a golem

Harold- [BLANK], God of Knowledge

(more to be added)

Blaineley- God of Envy

+Like Chris, that’s not her real name.

+She DID pick Mildred for this time period at first, but she ended up changing it.

+Geoff was half right; her real name actually isn’t Blaineley, but it’s technically not Mildred either.

Ezekiel- [BLANK], God of Nurture

(more to be added)

Sierra- [BLANK], God of Lust/Love

(Which word do I use)

+It’s her mom

+She’s the only contestant who’s the direct offspring of a god

15 notes · View notes

mermaidsirennikita · 2 months

Text

Weekly Book Recs: 3/8/24-3/15/24

The Seduction of Molly O'Flaherty by Sierra Simone

Technically, this is a series made up of one short story and two novellas, beginning with The Seduction of Molly O'Flaherty (FYI: if you listen to the audiobook, which I would recommend, it's combined with the second installment, which honestly makes sense), then The Persuasion of Molly O'Flaherty, and finally The Wedding of Molly O'Flaherty. Spinning off of her Ivy Leavold trilogy, it's basically a Victorian erotic romance with all the bells and whistles. It's on the somewhat darker side (TW for past assault and abuse and ongoing trauma) but there's a surprisingly tender love story at the core, between the independent and take-charge Molly and Silas, her longtime friend and casual lover, as they realize that they're actually in love with each other... at the worst possible time. It's stupid hot and, per Sierra Simone, super angsty with a wry wit to lighten it up. Silas.... Good God that is a hot hero.

The Next Best Fling by Gabriella Gamez

Aaaah, I love it when a debut author makes me happy! Can't say too much about this one yet as it isn't out until July 9, but it's such a fun romcom (and when I say romcom, I do not mean a sexless one, it's most definitely not that) in which our heroine and hero meet because she's in love with his brother and won't say anything, and he's in love with his brother's fiancee and is about to say SOMETHING before our heroine steps in and they start FUCKIN'. Also, library positivity! Ugh, so fun. (And yes is the one where she's like "don't pick me up I'm too heavy" and he just tosses her across the couch so he can get down to BUSINESS.)

Hyacinth by S.M. LaViolette

I liveblogged about this one a bit, but my GOD was it refreshing (and hot--ridiculously hot). An incredibly compelling neurodivergent heroine; a scarred hero who is just so taken with her from day one, even if he doesn't realize it; cross-dressing for the sake of card games; bondage; a lil "ejaculating untouched prompted by some riding crop action"; and so much emotionality and discussion of everything from sex negativity to double standards. It's super steamy, extremely romantic, and a combination of the old school historical vibe and a refreshingly modern take on character dynamics.

#romance novel blogging #book recs #romance novels #books #book reviews #book recommendations #weekly book recs

9 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

sweetcherrylime

TheInBetween

tanikagreen

Mirrored Image Artistry

l-o--v-e

D E N I Z

lookgoodineverything

Nothing Tastes As Good As Skinny Feels

raguerel

Zeph.eus