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smusherina · 29 days

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yard work - chapter 13 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warning(s): derogatory slurs! several of them!

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10 / chapter 11 / chapter 12 / chapter 14

It was Friday. The last day of school, the night of the talent show, and just a few days before Christmas. They'd be passing out the candy cane-grams. There'd be some assembly, probably.

Your leg jittered restlessly while you tried to focus on your bio paper. What kind of sadistic fuck assigned an essay on the last day before break? The biology teacher, apparently. He had a superiority complex, you were sure. Allergic to happiness.

Your mind kept drifting back to the photo album. Surely, Regina had it. You'd put it in her locker on Wednesday, so she'd have found it first thing Thursday morning. You hadn't dared to take a peek in her locker, afraid Gretchen would sniff you out again.

Something had clearly gone down between them. Gretchen didn't sit with them at lunch, instead opting for her boyfriend's clique. She didn't seem to fit in too well and Jason didn't seem too pleased to have her there. Karen and Regina sat by themselves, conversing casually.

Cady had been banished somewhere. You'd heard talk Aaron had dumped her. You knew Janis and Damien weren't talking to her after she turned her back on them. Since the whole Kälteen bar shebang and the subsequent smear campaign Regina had doled out, she hadn't been exactly welcome at any table. From what you understood, Gretchen and Cady were on speaking terms, but Karen and Gretchen weren't, but Cady and Karen were. It was all terribly confusing.

You had a table for yourself. Some of your old friends crowded the ones nearby, quite pointedly not sitting with you. You were no longer cool, it seemed. Easier to focus on your paper, you told yourself. The cafeteria was serving chilli today. The slop was slightly too watery and the meat was a mystery, but it'd do. You'd run out of food at home. You'd wanted a goddamn Christmas dinner and a good slab of ham got pricy. Couldn't rely on Mrs George for a feast this time around.

"Hey," Someone called near you. You looked up, surprised somebody was talking to you. A boy, more specifically a jock judging by the varsity jacket. "You good?"

"What?" Your brows furrowed. "Yeah?"

He smiled smarmily. "Cool."

And he walked away. You kept looking as he went, staring after his back. His buddies were looking your way, the same kinds of grins on their faces. That was odd. Didn't bode well.

It didn't take long for you to find out why. The period following lunch was when Damien would be visiting classrooms as Santa Claus, handing out candy canes.

He walked right up to you with a grin hidden under the fake Santa beard, wiggling his eyebrows all the while.

"The whole bag..." He drawled. "Impressive."

Confused, you peered into the sack. A couple dozen candy canes filled it, apparently all for you. You picked one out, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach as well as the snickering of the boys in the back rows.

Dyke. The message was just one word. It was clearly assigned to you, your whole name displayed proudly. Your body went numb, hands holding the candy limply. There was no signature to show who they were from. People were staring at you. Damien had lingered awhile to see what'd been written to you. The grin behind his beard had turned into a shocked scowl.

"What... What do they say?" Cady, of all people, the nerve of her, asked. She was seated a few rows from you.

"Alright, Mr Leigh, thanks for-" Ms Norbury tried to intervene.

"Dyke." You read out loud. Then you pulled out another. "Lesbo." And another. "Carpet muncher." The boys had trouble holding in their laughs. Another. "Queer." There were others you didn't deign to read out loud. Freak. Pervert. Degenerate. Homo.

If not for a few people finding all this amusing, it would've been dead silent in the classroom.

"These were supposed to be checked before handing out." Ms Norbury strode up to you and promptly confiscated the candies. Her face was set, expression severe, as she regarded Damien sternly.

"I- that wasn't my job. I don't know how, how they would've..." You watched Damien try to put it together.

"Well, is it really offensive if it's true?" Dylan, if you remembered correctly, piped up. He was a sporty guy, decently popular but nothing special. Now, though, he might as well have been an A-lister with how utterly low you'd plummeted.

Murmurs spread out around you. Damien and Ms Norbury retreated to a corner of the classroom to figure out how in the hell this had happened. People were looking at you. Your skin was crawling. It couldn't be Janis who told. She was in the same boat as you and she didn't have the power to do something like this. To make the committee ignore hateful messages meant some strings had been pulled. The only other person that knew, that could realistically do this, was Regina.

You bit your lip, closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Okay. You got the message. The album had been too much. This was a sign to stay away, to forget all the sentimentalities you'd had.

"Hey, calm down now, we'll figure this out- hey!" You didn't pause to listen to Ms Norbury when you booked it out of the stifling classroom. You couldn't bear to be there any longer.

You hid in the bathroom. Both hands held against your mouth so you wouldn't make a noise, you cried long and hard. Your breathing was choppy and laboured, and in no time at all your nose was blocked off entirely. Your eyes stung and your vision blurred.

The bell rang and pretty soon people came into the bathroom. You refused to get out, pretending to take the longest shit ever. It didn't take very long for the people coming in to discuss what had gone down in one of the junior calc classes.

It spread like wildfire. You were pretty sure the boys had nicked some of the candy canes from Ms Norbury since you could hear people reading the notes out loud, the rustling of the plastic covering.

"Who even is that?"

"Who cares? A total freak is what she is. Oh my gosh, Steph, do you think..."

"What?"

"Do you think she used the girls' bathroom? She's probably spread her diseases all over the seats! We're all gonna have gonorrhoea!"

You wanted to sink into the ground and never see daylight again. By the time the bell rang again, signalling the start of the next period, the rumours had inflated and grown disproportionately in severity.

Apparently, you were riddled with sexually transmitted diseases, preyed on freshmen and sold them hard drugs, behaved creepily in locker rooms, and had had a stint with Cady Heron while she was still with Aaron Samuels. You guessed that last one had to do with the time you'd dragged her into the janitor's closet to yell at her about the Kälteen bars.

In short, you were fucked. Your life was fucked. You'd hoped, so hoped, that even if you wouldn't get everything you wanted, you'd get some. You wouldn't get a high school girlfriend, wouldn't have slumber parties, wouldn't be normal. You wouldn't be Regina's friend. Fine. At least you could've had a quiet life, gone to community college and worked at the shop, had some buddies, and maybe lost your virginity one day. Not even that now. Not even a little bit of that. Your future in this town was just no longer there. You had nothing. You were nothing.

You skulked out of the bathroom once you were sure there'd be nobody in the halls. You got into your car and drove home. Just as you'd slumped down onto the couch, the house phone rang. Groaning, you went to answer. If it was your dad, missing it would mean there'd be hell to pay.

"Hello?" Your voice was croaky. It hurt to talk.

"Hi, sweetie! You don't sound too good." Mrs George's chirp greeted you. "I assume you had to leave school 'cause of that. I just happened to see you drive by. Rick got called to work last minute and Kylie's got tutoring till late. Come keep me company?"

"I'm not feeling too well, I'm sorry..." You said, holding the phone to your ear while your other arm wrapped around your body. You tried to breathe deep and not burst out crying, again. Your eyes felt swollen shut.

"Oh, I'll come by with some soup, then," She sounded so genuinely concerned.

You bit your lip. Tummy rumbling in its emptiness, you decided now would be as good of a time as any to bite the bullet.

"Actually, uh, if it's not too much to ask, and um- I-" You took in a shuddering breath. "You don't have to say yes, it's totally okay and I'm sorry if this is, like, too much-"

"Sweetpea, just ask." She chuckled.

"I don't have any food. Or, like, I have ingredients for Christmas 'cause I wanted to make dinner for myself, but I guess I forgot I have to eat before then too?" You tried to laugh, but the sound was strained. "Um, could you take me to the soup kitchen downtown?"

You could've driven yourself. You could've, in that you were capable of driving yourself, but with how your vision was impaired, how your body ached with loneliness, and how you weren't sure you wouldn't just impulsively drive into oncoming traffic, you doubted you would've survived the trip.

"No." She said bluntly. You flinched, feeling the refusal like a knife to the gut. "No, absolutely not. We are going grocery shopping and getting you food to last the rest of the damn year. I'm picking you up."

"Mrs George, I don't have money-"

"You shouldn't be spending your hard-earned money like that. Doesn't your dad send you enough to cover utilities?"

"He sends me grocery money. I gotta pay for gas and stuff on my own."

Mrs George's resounding silence spoke volumes of her opinion on that. "I'm coming to get you. I'm buying you groceries and then we're gonna meal prep. Okay?"

"Okay."

When Mrs George saw you, her determined attitude shifted to that of maternal worry. You fought hard not to break down, though all you really wanted to do was curl into her and cry your little heart out.

She drove you to Whole Foods, a place way out of your budget. But she insisted, so there was little you could do. She took you from aisle to aisle, prattling on and on, chatting about this and that. You listened mostly silently, humming here and there.

She picked out a lot of canned stuff, like beans and tomato purée. All that stuff was made to last forever, so you wouldn't always have to buy fresh ingredients. She bought all your favourite snacks, which she somehow remembered. When you commented on that, she just pointed at her temple with a knowing grin. Mothers never forget, she'd said.

Once you were all done, the cart was quite literally overflowing. The total nearly made your stomach drop out of your ass. Mrs Geoge simply flashed her black card and, without even a wince, paid the price. The receipt was, like, three feet long.

Carrying it all to her car was a daunting task, but a worker did come to help you. A young man, probably home from college, was all too eager to carry the bags for Mrs George.

The way he was blushing all the way up to his ears, the way she was amused by him but not receptive, made you think about what Regina had said months ago. You'd been on your way to her nail appointment and she'd gone on a tangent about how women died at menopause.

Mrs George was thriving. She was above it all. Her worth, or mortality, wasn't determined by the men around her. She'd been cheated on, continuously neglected by her husband, and put down by her teenage daughter, and still, she was beautiful. She existed independently.

In short, you were right and Regina was wrong. You saw things how they really were. She saw things tilted to the left, through a warped lens. The confirming of this brought you no comfort, she'd already ruined you and there was no redeeming herself after this, at least not for you.

"Phew, what a trip, right?" She nudged you with her elbow as she buckled her seatbelt.

You nodded along, voice still weak. You buckled in as well.

"I'll pick you up for the talent show." She said as she turned away from the parking lot. "Oooh, we should have a night in. Order some pizzas and slob around the couch. How's that sound?"

"I don't think I should go to the talent show."

"Oh, why's that?"

"Just... Something happened at school. I don't wanna go."

Mrs George frowned and glanced at you. "Honey, you know you can tell me anything. I still think you should come."

"Everybody hates me." You faced the window and crossed your arms. Very mature.

"I'm sure that's not true." She sighed. "I'm not supposed to tell you, but Regina's got something prepared for you. I think you should go see her at least."

Your face twisted in anger. "Something prepared for me- like she prepared something for me today? I don't fucking think so."

"Language." She said and you grumbled. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing. It's nothing." You rubbed your hands down your jeans. "It's not gonna be good. She's gonna humiliate me."

"It's supposed to be a surprise, but I can guarantee that she's not going to humiliate you."

"What do you know?" You turned to her with narrowed eyes.

"I've been hearing her practice, is all." She responded, tone much too light.

You studied her face carefully. "Fine."

She smiled, seemingly relieved. Then, as if to cut the tension in the car, said:

"Oh, and by the way, I'm filing for divorce." With a giddy smile on her face, she blurted it out. You just stared for a while, almost suffering whiplash from the sudden change in topic.

"Uh... Finally." You laughed a little as you said that.

"Yeah!" She laughed with you. "It's been a long time coming. I just needed to sort some things out. Emotionally and financially. I had to get rid of some investments so I wouldn't have to pay alimony."

Your jaw dropped. The Georges were, like, filthy rich. Rich beyond reason, excess income to a ridiculous degree. You'd always assumed it was Mr George's money. How archaic of you.

"I... I kinda wished you'd done it sooner." You looked forward again. She was driving carefully since the snow made the roads prone to ice.

"Me too. The girls... They... I thought that having two parents would be the most stable, safe environment for them. I was wrong."

"Yeah." You swallowed. "Um. Since we're, like, just saying things. I'm, by the way, gay. Like, a lesbian."

"That's wonderful, honey!"

"Yeah." You couldn't say you agreed.

"Should we go get you a haircut?"

"I don't need to look any more butch than I do."

"I don't know, I think you'd look dashing." She feigned light-hearted. "Regina might like it."

"Mrs George!"

Notes: More drama! Yay! Do y'all think Regina did it?

Taglist posted separately. Please comment on the taglist post to be added on there :)

#mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #mean girls x reader #lesbian regina george #wlw #fic: yard work

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lookninjas · 17 days

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IT'S TIME

(again)

Pick a song from a bad description! You do not have to recognize the song to choose it (although, tbh, at least one of these should be instantly recognizable to the new wavers). Go with what is funniest or what sparks curiosity or just makes you feel some type of a way. Go with your gut.

At the end of the week, I will take all the songs and put them into a playlist, from the song with the least votes to the song with the most votes. If you would like to listen to the playlist when I'm done, and don't feel like finding the post again, please leave a comment or put it in the tags, and I'll tag you when the playlist is up. If you really can't wait a week to find out just what that mix of cumbia and Sandstorm is all about, shoot me an ask and I'll answer.

And please reblog! I like sharing the cool music I find with other people because I am extremely enthusiastic about it! But if you guys don't reblog, it's very difficult for me to find people to share things with. So if you have buddies who live for the synth, please reblog and have them see the poll.

(Also, there will probably be an expanded version of the playlist that comes out around the same time, because it was the only way I could a) cut songs off the original list and b) stop myself continuing down the rabbit hole of finding more music to actually do the poll. So it'll be like, twice the synths at least.)

(Also also, every song is a legit banger, so you will want that playlist, I'm just saying.)

#polls #music #playlists #synth music #of all genres #seriously i say this all the time but this playlist has some good shit on it #you will want to hear it #so please vote please reblog #and have a good wednesday

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solar-wing · 9 months

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🦇 Surviving Damian: BatBro's Life 🎞️

I don't know why, but the way Damian turns to look at Dick in this clip has me rolling

🦇 🎞️ A/N → A continuation of my Batbro Headcanons with everyone's favorite little assassin, Damian. This is also inspired by this post from @batsiblingfun. This mixes in a lot of different elements from different DC shows and movies, but still all tie together. Conner x Reader along with Damian x Raven included. WARNINGS: None really. family fluff, minor threats of violence. You and Damian conspiring together. Bruce needs his lawyers. Mentions of trauma and therapy. Joker being Joker.

🦇🎞️ Summary → It's one thing to find out Bruce Wayne is your biological father. It's another thing to find out you also have a half-brother from the same father who also didn't meet him until around the same time you did. Now, some would consider getting a new older brother to be a good thing. Of course, when they point out what they see as an ideal image of that, Damian Wayne is more or less far from it. Truthfully, you'd need an entire documentary to explain that trauma. But, in his defense, he did warn Bruce not to make him a middle child. Oh well...

🦇🎞️ Word Count → 5.3k

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

🦇 ENJOY 🎞️

— Some may imagine having Bruce Wayne as your father entails a glamorous and extravagant life.

— "Oh wow! Your dad is Bruce Wayne? That's so cool!" "I bet you've been to so many great places." "Have you met any celebrities before?" "Your life must be so interesting!"

— To answer that, depends on the day. The watchtower is cool, but not as interesting as what you saw on that one trip to Puerto Rico. Would Superman even be considered a celebrity? And, define interesting.

— Because if you mean 'interesting' like waking up every day wondering if it's going to be some random supervillain that unalives you, or your own brother, then yes, your life is fascinating.

— What most people don't consider when they find out your father is Bruce Wayne is not only did you all of a sudden get a new parent, but you also got new siblings. As your eldest brother Dick once said, "I went from being an only child to living in utter chaos every day." The only difference is that Dick actually somewhat thrives in chaos. Which is weird considering you'd think it'd be someone more like Jason who lived by that statement.

— You, on the other hand, would rather go without the constant weird shit that goes on with your father and siblings all being a bunch of vigilantes who save your city and the world from crazy clowns and guys who clearly like to live every day like it's Halloween.

— But, the thing is, 90% of the shit you have to deal with doesn't even come from those creeps and villains. It's literally from your own house, specifically one person.

— At one point in your life, you wished to have a sibling. Someone you could share that irreplaceable bond with. Fighting over small stuff like the remote, or who got first dibs on Alfred's cookies. Only to kiss and make up later when one of you got bored or hungry. Insulting and torturing each other only to join forces if someone outside of you two decided to mess with the other. Coming up with crazy schemes that would inevitably shorten your father's life expectancy.

— You know, normal stuff.

— You'd think Dick would get the title of 'most stable' among your siblings, but surprisingly, that was awarded to Jason, which, I know right?! Mind you, 'stable' was being used on very loose terms here. But, Richard was almost more like a second dad than a brother, which you figured came with the role of being the oldest sibling. Since he had the most experience dealing with an emotionally absent Bruce, he'd pick up where he fell off. Of course, Bruce got better over time and learned how to not distance himself whenever his feelings got even a little poked, but Richard was always your go-to whenever you needed support.

— You'd almost considered Jason for the title of most unstable, but then you met Tim, and realized Jason was actually better than you thought, considering what he's been through. Your second oldest brother wasn't really open towards you, but as you two started to spend time together, you grew on him and vice versa. At one point, the Red Hood persona vowed to not only do everything he could to keep you safe but as innocent and pure as you could be. He would not let Bruce and his questionable parenting ruin another child. His earlier methods were probably not the most effective. CPS was still calling at least once a week.

— There weren't enough words to describe Tim. When you first came to the mansion, he seemed completely normal and sane for the most part. Then, after you discovered your father's side hustle, you realized how opposite the reality was. You remembered something your mom said about the only things she was scared of. "I only fear two things in this life; God and the IRS." Well, you'd definitely be adding a certain Red Robin to that list. There were just things Tim would say or do that he thought was completely normal, and you'd be discreetly dialing a mental hospital, fearing for your safety. Why did you know the number for one off the top of your head? Let's just say you had your reasons. But, you'd rather have Tim as an ally than an enemy, so you refrained. That didn't stop you from keeping them on speed dial though.

— Yes, you definitely had some interesting siblings, but none of them compared to your other brother. The one you regrettably shared blood with. Hopefully, he didn't hear you say that.

— It was one thing to have Bruce Wayne as a father. It was an entirely different thing to have Damian Wayne for a brother.

— The first day you two met, Damian had already been at the manor for a few months when Talia had left him with Bruce while she went to handle business. What business that entailed, your father kept you in the shadows, and quite frankly, you were grateful. After your mom left you on the manor's doorsteps with a note that just read, "Trust me, he's yours," your life was never the same.

— You remembered being excited that day. You finally got to meet your dad, and you got a brother out of it too! Multiple brothers and sisters actually! Whoever was out there listening to you had answered your deepest wishes.

— Now, you wished they just minded their damn business.

— Unlike Damian, you were not aware of your father's secret identity. So, when you met, you were a little more than put off by Damian's first greeting towards you.

— "Father, I thought we discussed your habit of picking up street rats and turning them into your next apprentice."

— Truthfully, that was actually more than a pleasant start to your relationship with the trained assassin. When you eventually heard the story of how Dick and Damian "met" for the first time, you suddenly felt grateful at the fact there were no sharp objects nearby...that you knew of.

— If you happened to start locking your bedroom door at night and setting booby traps to alert you if anyone came in while you were sleeping, that was no one else's business but yours.

— The thing was, you tried to connect with Damian, but he would keep brushing you off. Bruce really wasn't that much help as he didn't have the best track record with his first three kids.

— The issue was you and Damian came from two completely different backgrounds, despite your shared parenthood.

— Damian was raised among an organization of highly-trained assassins and was molded from the second he was born to take over from his grandfather who was the equivalent of an undead lich, only he was actually alive. You had a normal childhood for the most part. You went to school, made friends, tried different hobbies, etc.

— You saw Damian as uptight and weird, and he saw you as naive and weak.

— Of course, as everything does in this family, shit only got more intense.

— After Bruce ran a DNA test and confirmed you were indeed his son, they got you set up in the manor and your new life. Your last name was officially changed to Wayne with you wanting to keep your mother's surname hyphenated in there.

— You wanted to decorate your bedroom, so you asked your dad to take you shopping, fully intending to take advantage of your newfound wealth (your mother taught you well). Bruce figured it'd be a great way for you and him to get to know each other as he was trying to be more of the supportive dad that Dick and Jason lectured him about. And if CPS decided to give him another one of their 'visits,' he'd rather not provide them with any more reasons to be taking down notes. He was still trying to find a way to punish Jason for that stunt.

— And at Alfred's suggestion, he brought Damian along, thinking it'd be great family time for the Wayne men, and it'd give his firstborn a chance at being an actual kid since Damian never decorated his room when he first got there.

— You went all out. At some point, Bruce wondered if everything he was buying was starting to become too much, but you threw him the puppy dog look you mastered at three years old, and he folded like a lawn chair. Your mother had grown resistant to that trick so, it was great to finally be using it again. Posters, knick-knacks, a new desk, a whole gaming set-up, LED lights, a gaming chair, you name it, you got it. You'd even tried to get Damian to get a few things for himself, wanting to get to know more about your brother.

— "I don't need materialistic objects to satisfy myself like you and other low-lives do. Besides, you're only doing this to 'make up' for the more than likely poor life you lived before with whoever your harlot mother is."

— Alright, that did it. You tackled Damian in the middle of the mall, throwing all your weight on top of him. Of course, you were unaware of his combat training so he threw you off pretty easily, pushing you to the ground and twisting your arm behind your back to where he almost broke it. Bruce had to yank him off you and grab you as well to prevent you from charging him again while everyone else around was taking pictures and videos.

— Bruce's PR team was not happy with the stories and articles on the gossip websites the next morning. But, they managed to twist it around into a positive light, painting the Billionaire Playboy as the role model male, doing his best to raise his two boys as best he could being a single father.

— "Oh, he's such a family man. #EvenMoreAttactive". – @Supermom92

— "He's a good man, Vanessa. A good man." - @mooreswhore

— "This is what we need more of. Strong men taking charge in their son's lives." – @topalpha

— "#GladTheyAin'tMyKids." – @aynonymous

— Of course, this did nothing to help the relationship between you and the youngest Boy Wonder, but Alfred's reassurance eased Bruce's headache.

— "Truthfully, Master Wayne, it would seem to me they are already falling quite well into their new roles as brothers. It will get better over time."

— When exactly was better? Because things only seemed to get more tense between you two. The fights didn't end there. As you spent more time in the manor, you'd gotten to know your other adoptive siblings. And particularly, spending time with your second oldest brother, you'd learned some defensive moves in fighting that only led to your fights with Damian getting worse now that you could hold your own a little more.

— Only there were some moves that you knew that Damian didn't, which really caused a shit storm.

— It may have taken Dick and Jason's combined strength to hold Damian back from trying to literally slice your throat open after you introduced him to the art of the cheese neck. Jason thought it was hilarious and low-key well deserved since your half-brother decided to cut open one of the stuffed bears you had since you were four. Alfred was able to put him back together, but that didn't help the need for revenge you had in the pit of your stomach.

— Since he couldn't murder you, he decided to go with the next best thing he had in mind; mental torture!

— He knew you loved Scooby-Doo, but had a slight fear of some of the monsters and scenes from the show. Look, shit from back in the 70s could be creepy with how they decided to do specific stuff. And sadly on your part, Damian had amazing resources thanks to dear old Papa Bruce.

— So, one day when you thought Bruce was on a business trip (he was on a League mission, and Dick, Jason, and Tim were nowhere to be found along with Alfred), you had the manor to yourself. Or, at least, you thought you did.

— Let's just say Damian decided to place you in your own Scooby-Doo episode, only a tad bit more rated R. Last time you checked, the vampire from that one episode didn't actually have blood and guts dripping from his teeth while chasing Shaggy and Scooby.

— Yeah, Bruce low-key had to invest in a therapist for that one. And CPS definitely took a note down when they saw part of the costume had fallen out of a trash bag and your "concerning" reaction to it. Damian had no shame.

— "Next time, he'll think twice about whose neck he's slapping."

— "Master Bruce, I really do think they're starting to grow on each other, if I do say so myself." This time, Alfred's words were not reassuring for the billionaire.

— Eventually, you and Damian came to a mutual understanding. You stay out of his way, and he would stay out of your way. And it worked! At least until you found out the big secret, and no not the one where Tim...actually, never mind.

— It was an accident, really it was. At least that's how Jason and Tim tried to spin it when he had to explain to Bruce how you thought Red Hood and Red Robin broke into the manor. In truth, they thought you were at a friend's house studying, and the tracker that was stitched to your backpack showed that.

— Hold up... tracker?

— You'd grill them and your dad for that later.

— Now, you were constantly in the Batcave and working Damian's last nerve. You kept asking to help on missions or patrol, and shockingly, this was the one time when Bruce put his foot down and said no to having an adolescent child fighting crime with him.

— Who would've figured?

— The most he'd let you do was help Alfred with comms and computer stuff. Of course, that'd only lead to you and Damian getting into one of your brotherly spats over the comms.

— "At least I have competent training to be in the field. You can barely defend yourself against a cat." Damian sneered into his mic while roundhouse-kicking a thug.

— "First of all you stuck-up brat, Alfred the Cat and I have a lovely relationship and we were play fighting. Secondly, the only thing you're competent at is proving what happens when you forget to use protection!" You quipped right back.

— Dick and Tim tried holding back their laughs while Jason just shouted "DAMN!" Bruce had to pretend not to notice Damian's glare through the domino mask and Alfred pretended to scold you while giving you a fist bump. The Boy Wonder was grinding his teeth.

— Then, a miracle happened. Well, really it was a traumatic experience that Bruce would have to pay for more sessions with your therapist but still was a miracle in the end.

— In another one of his crazy schemes, Joker decided to target Bruce Wayne again, but this time, the newly discovered heirs to Wayne Enterprises, at least, that's what the media was referring to you as.

— He hired some goons to abduct you and Damian from your school and hid you both in one of his many secret hideouts around Gotham. And Joker, never one for subtlety, of course, decided to send out a televised message to Brucie Poosie, a name disturbingly similar to Joker's nickname for Batman. He'd addressed that later.

— Your father and siblings immediately jumped into action of course and started searching the entire city, checking all of Joker's known hideouts and connections. Only, Joker had apparently taken some inspiration and notes from Riddler because while he was busy taunting and trying to shake down Bruce Wayne for everything he could, he was leading Batman and his little birdies (his nickname for all the Robins) on a wild goose chase.

— The more and more time went by, the more and more they got worried for you. Of course, they were worried for Damian as well, but he was used to these kinds of situations. This was your first (and frankly, probably not last) kidnapping.

— At first, you weren't scared (much). No offense, but, Joker always kind of seemed like a joke to you. The fact his whole persona was based on a mad clown really didn't help. You had also never really watched the news or heard people talking about some of the horrible things he had done. You always just heard the part when Batman swooped in and kicked his ass.

— Well, if you made it out of this, you'd definitely have nightmares and a new fear of clowns to add to your list. May have to start considering two-hour sessions with your therapist.

— But, to your surprise, Damian had helped to keep you calm and protected you from seeing more of Joker's 'fun side'. Whenever the clown or one of his thugs got a little too close to your holding cell for your brother's liking, he always placed himself in front of you, just in case they decided to fuck around and find out so he could be ready.

— When the green-haired villain went on one of his disturbing tangents or talked about his plans for you two in case your father didn't follow through with his demands, Damian would cover your ears. Of course, it didn't do much, but the sentiment was appreciated. Your older brother, despite his 'quirks', actually did have a caring side to him. It just took being kidnapped by a psychotic clown and your lives being in terrible danger for it to show. Go figure.

— Of course, your father and siblings eventually tracked you and Damian down and came to your rescue. From what you had seen from your father and brothers in their fighting style, they always were more smart and sneaky with their attacks and ambushes. Jason was more of the impulsive and brash one who liked to rush in, but he grew more into the Bat's style over time. Especially seeing how the last time he rushed into something concerning the Joker, well, there's no need to go down that road.

— But, nope. This time, Bruce was not forgiving with his 'justice' towards Joker. Honestly, you and your siblings were a little worried that Bruce would break his number one rule on no killing for the first time, but he still held back. In the middle of all the chaos, you'd even managed to surprise Damian when some goons tried to surprise you and him after he broke you guys out of the cell. And who said video games couldn't teach you a thing or two about fighting?

— Damian was impressed, and more than curious to see what kind of games you were playing that taught you the fastest way to incapacitate a 200-pound man with a few jabs and well-placed strikes. That or you were insanely lucky to have a man who could barely defend himself against a child. Either way, a win was a win for you.

— Obviously, things changed a bit when you two returned home.

— For one, your family became a lot more clingy and overprotective than before. And that was saying something considering they had a tracker stitched into your backpack without your knowledge before. There was a rotation between the brothers of who would drop off and pick you up from school. This was already a rule before, but now, it was just even more intense with you not being able to leave the manor or go anywhere without someone from the family accompanying you. Bruce started training you in self-defense and combat, with regulations and supervision from your brothers so he didn't make the same mistakes he made with them with you.

— You appreciated it all, and it definitely did help you feel a bit safer (in the beginning), but, really one of the most shocking changes not just to yourself, but everyone else was Damian's change in attitude toward you. Of course, he wasn't outright hugging you or anything crazy like that, but he was more cordial and almost friendlier you could say.

— It was also very apparent Damian had developed a similar protective stance toward you. You being the only non-vigilante in the family meant you kept an aura of innocence and light-heartedness the rest of your family had lost a long time ago. They were more than determined to make sure you kept that light and never lost it like they did so many years ago.

— Thankfully, your time with Joker wasn't anything too traumatic. Joker was actually on one of his schemes for once and didn't do anything too drastic. But, that didn't stop your brother from glaring down any suspicious figure who got too close to you for his liking. If you asked to hang out at a friend's house, Damian took over Bruce's role of asking for details on your friend, they're parents, where you'd be going, and all that extra stuff. If you were aware of the fact that Damian was running full background checks on your friends and their families whenever you went to hang out with them, you pretended not to notice.

– Bruce also had a teary moment of being a proud father seeing how Damian was showing already to be just like him. Which, if we're being honest, was actually a terrifying thought.

— But, it wasn't just Damian who started making an effort to build a more friendly bond between you two. You'd contributed as well. Showing Damian the ways he could learn to let loose and actually be a kid instead of a trained assassin all the time.

— You'd invited him more than once to hang out with you and your friends that you made from school. Hesitant at first at the idea of hanging out with others that weren't you and his family, you managed to convince him when Dick, Jason, and Tim got into one of their own brotherly spats, and Jason decided to start chasing the two around the house with a rag wet with a 'mysterious' substance.

— "Your local comrades quarters it is then." Damian muttered before quickly ushering you out the door with Alfred towing behind since you needed someone to drive you. Damian offered since he kept claiming he knew how, but Bruce still wasn't going for it.

— With your help, Damian actually learned to make friends with kids his own age. He developed hobbies and interests that had nothing to do with anything sharp or pointy (that didn't mean you weren't gonna booby trap your room still just in case).

— He even joined an art club at school and you both decided to enroll in a martial arts club together as well. It'd actually become quite the inside joke between you two. There was one guy in there, Carter, who swore he was the best fighter in the entire school and he could take any one of these 'runts' down, including you and Damian.

— Now, you were still learning and getting comfortable fighting from your lessons with your dad and brothers. When Carter decided to pick on you and Damian as the Wayne brats and challenged you both to a sparring match, boy he did not know what he was getting himself into. Especially when you and your brother looked at each other with the most mischievous evil smirks anyone had ever seen.

— When Bruce got a call from the school later that some parents were looking to try and sue him for the 'extensive harm' his kids did to their kid, he could only raise an eyebrow when you and Damian appeared in his office, smiling like you both were innocent angels.

— "See, Master Bruce. I told you if you'd given it some time, they'd grow on each other." Alfred said to him later that evening.

— Only Bruce was now more concerned than ever. When you and Damian basically hated each other, he only had to worry about the terror and havoc you two would unleash inside the manor. Now, that you were basically best buddies, he'd have to worry about inside and outside the house.

— "I'm gonna be meeting with my lawyers more frequently, aren't I Alfred?" Bruce asked.

— Alfred gave a small chuckle as he patted the man's shoulders. "Oh, Master Bruce, most certainly."

— The butler wasn't wrong.

— You and Damian became like a force that everyone was scared to cross. Even your own brothers were slightly afraid of the kind of shit you two could get into. You'd come up with the crazy schemes and ideas, mapping out any and all details while handling any technological stuff which you had gotten really good at considering the time you spent with Alfred in the Batcave monitoring missions. And, Damian would do the more physical acts required as well as sneaking and sleuthing around if need be.

— Bruce had a meeting with his attorneys at least once a week because of you two.

— You'd even developed your own sense of overprotectiveness over your older brother. Some guy in the art club Damian had joined at school decided to try and pick with him and messed up one of his paintings. Surprisingly, Damian was calm about it and didn't even yell or react at him. Just scoffed at the guy and called him pathetic.

— You did not have a similar reaction.

— When word got around the school and managed to reach your ears, you were for lack of a better word, feeling quite revengeful. The next day at school, that guy became the laughingstock of your entire class when a private photo mysteriously made its way into every student's locker in your grade.

— When Damian found out, he immediately confronted you about it, and you could only smile innocently while feigning ignorance.

— "Why, brother?! How could you even think to accuse me of such a vile act of one's breach of privacy."

— "Y/N..." Damian said.

— "Fine, it was me. But, you have to admit, it is quite a lovely picture. And besides, nobody messes with my brother except me." You smiled.

— Damian only gave a small smile, grabbing you to give you a noogie on the head before walking for the exit of the school to head home. He tried not to let such a small statement get him overly emotional since he'd never really had anyone before you and your family be so caring and defensive over him. Not even his mother.

— The older you two got, the more close you became. At one point, Dick even started to joke that if one of you had gotten involved in some stupid and even dangerous plot, it wouldn't be long before the other got involved as well.

— "You'd even given yourself the nickname of the Blood Brothers since you and Damian liked to remind your other siblings more than once who Bruce's actual kin was, especially Dick whenever he went on one of his tirades about being the first Robin blah blah blah...

— Tim did happen to point out your chosen name's disturbing similarity to one widely known supervillain to which you scoffed in response.

— "Oh please, Brother Blood wishes he had half the brains and looks me and Dami have. Isn't that right, bro?" You said turning to Damian holding out a fist bump.

— "I refuse to get involved in this."

— And given your bond with each other, it was of course all too expected that you would each get involved in each other's love lives. When Damian was sent away to Titans Tower to learn how to be part of a team, you were very pissed at Bruce since he was breaking up you and his team.

— Honestly, Bruce hadn't even considered that, but he was happy and looking forward to the much-needed break from his weekly meetings with his lawyers concerning his sons and their growing stack of attempted lawsuits.

— It was a shock to not only you but to Damian from how you knew when he returned from the tower on a visit, and you asked "Who is she," with your arms crossed and tapping your foot against the ground.

— From your daily calls and messages, you'd picked up quite fast that Damian was crushing on someone, you just didn't know who. You figured it may have been that Tara girl you heard had joined the team, who should consider herself lucky she succumbed to her own fate and not the one you'd planned for her after finding out what she did to your brother and his comrades.

— Superman and Wonder Woman were still campaigning to put you on the League's high-priority watch list after hearing and witnessing some of the things you got up to with and without your brother. So they and everyone else in the League who had the fortune (or misfortune) of meeting you had no qualms that whatever you planned for the blonde earth-powered girl, was nothing short of maniacal.

— When you found out it was Raven after your dad brought you along to Damian's surprise party at the Tower with the rest of the team, you managed to get a chance alone with the half-human, half-demon girl, exchanging some friendly banter and humor. You'd also jokingly (but also not jokingly) warned her that if she hurt your brother in any way shape or form, you'd give her a fate worse than anything her father could ever imagine.

— Weirdly enough, she smiled and gave you a pat on the shoulder.

— "I promise, you don't have to worry about anything from me. And, I can see now why he cares a lot about you. You both protect each other."

— To which you replied with a simple, "He's my brother." Nothing else needed to be said between the two of you. You both were aware of Damian's past, you more than Raven of course, so you knew Damian sometimes needed some extra care and love. You could clearly see that was something she had every intention of making sure he got.

— You approved.

— Now, if only you could get Damian to approve of you and Conner.

— Let's just say, neither your father nor your brothers were anywhere near please when they found out about you and the half-Kryptonian's relationship.

— Dick just couldn't fathom that both of his baby brothers were dating someone from the two teams he helped co-found.

— Jason didn't like that you were dating someone he couldn't really intimidate or threaten the way he wanted since the dude was a literal teen Superman.

— Tim was oddly okay with it at first. But, when you started abandoning him and your regular scheduled gaming sessions for your dates and hangouts with Conner, he was more than ever determined to take down the half-Kryptonian.

— Damian didn't like the idea of you with someone so much stronger than you and could hurt you very easily. To which you pointed out he was dating a half-demon whose father has more than once tried to take over the universe and she almost helped him in succeeding.

— "Not the point, little brother."

— You did have to warn your boyfriend though, because, unlike your other brothers with the exception of possibly Tim, Damian had his own hidden secret cache of Kryptonite for emergency if it was ever needed.

— How you knew?

— Well, after you and Conner announced your relationship, you noticed your father and brother consistently making trips to the vault where all the Kryptonite was stored. And, you once caught your dad making a smaller version of the 'special' jewelry he used to fight Superman that one time, which you figured had to be for Damian.

— "Oh come on! I don't see anyone walking around with crosses and holy water whenever Damian goes out with Raven. But, y'all are ready to pull out all the stops whenever Conner and I even look like we're about to hug!" You yelled at your family.

— Damian stepped forward, placing what was supposed to be a comforting hand on your shoulder.

— "I do apologize brother. But, you should really be blaming Father for this, since I did technically warn him what would happen if he made me a middle child.

— "He did." You heard your father's day from behind.

— Someone really needed to make a documentary about your life.

BONUS:

☀️ | Bat Family | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

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sleepyangelkami · 4 months

Note

I am completely obsessed with your Ellie stories. I beg you, please... Write more!!

HAUNTED DREAMS e.williams

☆ WORD COUNT - 3.2K

ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - you had always found it difficult to sleep but when ellie's there, it's like all the bad dreams go away. one night she takes night patrol and when she returns, she realises that the dreams have snuck into your mind while she's been gone.

☆ WARNINGS - reader has a nightmare, mentions of character death, mentions of reader's family dying, ptsd, reader having sorta a panic attack, violence + gore, comfort, suggestive joke in the beginning, use of y/n, petnames, use of good girl (not sexually), intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

your parents died before you got to jackson. in fact, when you'd found yourself walking in the gates, you were covered in blood from head to toe, your arms shaking from around you. you'd lost the only people that meant anything to you after the world had gone to shit. the people of the town had let you in. some asian kid opened the gates, he'd soon become one of your best friends. you were appointed to maria and tommy who, of course, let you stay. they took you in as one of your own.

ellie williams followed to the town soon after you did. at this stage, you were already best friends with dina and jesse, they had become the family you only could have dreamed for, it was all you needed after everything had happened.

back then, you were too shy to talk to the pretty auburn haired girl. she looked so cool, so fearless. she quickly became friends with jesse after being on patrol who then introduced her to dina who then introduced her to you.

you and ellie hit it off like no other.

quickly, you became inseparable. best friends, so they called it. you two were practically attached by the hip. she got you and you got her, there was nothing more about it. some people (jesse, single handedly jesse) would tease you for closeness to ellie, tell you that you must have a crush on the girl if you missed her the second she leaved and fawned over her the moment she returned. then again, jesse had always known you better than anyone else, seemingly more than yourself did at times.

jesse soon turned out to be right and by seventeen, you and ellie were just smitten for each other. when you guys got together, you went through a phase where you didn't talk. i mean, of course you talked, you hadn't gone mute. but what you hadn't talked about was everything before. ellie seemed pretty open when you guys started dating, she began spilling everything about her past, the present, everything with the fireflies, her immunity, joel's lies. everything just spewed from her mouth and into your arms. you? you picked her right up and comforted her that night that she told you everything, tears trickling down her face.

you never could talk like her though.

she knew you used to get really bad nightmares of that night, the night that everything happened, the night that you're life seemingly ended. she knew that these dreams seemed to always sneak up on you at the times that she wasn't around which was why she did everything she could to be around. it'd been years since you met ellie, you trusted her more than anyone else you've ever met. but there were just some words that you simply couldn't get out. ellie was okay with this, never pressured you. if anything, she'd kiss your head and let you know that when you were ready, she'd be there. even if it were mere loose words falling from your lips, she'd string up sentences and make a story for you both. she was so good.

then, maria had the bright idea of putting ellie on night patrol.

"do you have to go?" you spoke, your chin on her shoulder and all pouty as you looked up at her with her doe eyes. you and ellie spent every single night together, covered in one anothers embrace. she made all the problems in the world go away by simply being there. the nightmares, at least.

ellie sighed, turning her head to you with a look of guilt across her face. she really didn't want to leave you alone for the night but nobody could argue with maria. "i'll be as quick as i can, baby." and you believed her, but that didn't mean that it didn't suck.

"I know." you snuggled yourself into her, nuzzling your head into her neck. her scent filled your nose, wood and cologne, it was enough to have your legs wobbling. her arms were around you, holding you close as her hands trailed up and down your back, underneath your her shirt. her hands were warm, they reminded you of the summer, heating you up even when the harsh winter invaded your skin. you loved jackson but god was it cold.

she let a couple moments pass before sighing, glancing up at the clock. "i really have to go, sweetheart." because as much as she'd love to spend the rest of the night with you, she knew her patrol partner would soon worry as to where she'd gone.

you pulled yourself out of her embrace, blinking heavily. it seemed as though you were already pretty tired. "i know." you murmured again, as much as you didn't want to accept it.

when ellie had found out she had night patrol, the first place she went was maria's, telling her she couldn't do night patrols, not now, not ever. maria understood, she tried sympathising with her and with you, who at the time had no idea of the situation. but ellie didn't need the sympathy or the pity, she merely grumbled. she got a little angry, stating that maria didn't get it and that ellie couldn't go on night patrols, not when she knew you'd be sat inside your shared home while curling up into yourself. ellie had listened to your 'it's okay's and 'just go, it's fine' one too many times only to find you in the living room, staring into space with teary eyes. she wouldn't leave you alone for another night again, not when she knew how it'd end every single time. maria could only sigh, telling her she'd see what she could do. soon enough, she informed ellie that she wouldn't be put on night patrols again but tonight there simply wasn't anyone to cover for her. so, she'd give up tonight to save the rest of the nights. but that didn't mean it was any easier.

"hey." ellie caught your chin between her thumb and pointer finger. "you're gonna be fine, okay? jus' get some rest, sweet girl, i'll be back before you know it." her mouth leaning forward to press a kiss against your warm lips.

and so, she was gone.

without her, the room felt so cold. without her presence heating it up, it felt damp almost. there was something eerie about it that had you folding in on yourself. you were dressed in her boxers and her sleep shirt, using it so you could soak in the smell of her. you thought it'd help, it didn't. without her, you were sort of lost.

you felt a cold shiver run up your spine.

no, no you couldn't do this.

you quickly sat up on the bed, switching on the lamp next to your and ellie's bed. the bedsheets were a light pink, dark pink hearts dotted across the sheets, your wallpaper was pink again, with flowers across it. ellie wasn't a fan of anything in the room really, but it made you happy and that was all that mattered to ellie. you soon found out that you cold get anything you want just by smiling at her, you were her inseparable.

but as of right now, nothing felt warm and fuzzy. and you couldn't bring yourself to smile, even when you were thinking of the most beautiful, gentle, perfect girl in the world, your ellie. oh, how desperately you needed her home.

you shut yourself down, shaking your head. one night, you reminded yourself, you had to get through one night without her. you suddenly felt like a baby for even being scared in the first place. nothing could hurt you here in jackson, not like what could outside, not like what hurt your family all that time ago.

you blinked harshly, trying to erase the thoughts from your head.

a book sat on your bedside table, you'd read it a thousand times. or, well, ellie had read it. you merely listened as you forced her to read it, batting your lashes and telling her please. you just needed a bedtime story and ellie wasn't exactly the most creative. the last time she tried making up a bedtime story it ended with her pushing your two plushies in front of you, imitating your moans from the night before. this, of course, had earned a swat into the back of the head and a whine quite alike 'ellieeeuyh! you're supposed to be making a good story!' to which she was awfully offended. 'this is a good story! see, i'm bear ellie fucking bunny y/n.' putting on weird voices for each character.

you'd picked up the book, sitting it in front of you and focusing your mind on the words. this time, you wanted to be good for ellie. you wanted her to be able to come home and just sleep. if you focused on the words, distracted yourself enough then you could stay up as late as you pleased, you would only go to sleep after she's returned home.

you thought the plan was great.

staying awake until she got home. staying awake until she got home. staying awake until... you were so tired.

you were so tired that you hardly noticed your mind slipping and your eyes fluttering shut. your sleeping mind didn't register the way that the book slowly fell from your hands and onto the side of the bed, eyes screwed shut and breathing becoming softer, slower. suddenly, you were in a deep sleep and you had many hours to go before your girlfriend comes home.

seconds passed, turning into minutes and then the blur of at least two hours.

you were still passed out in the bedroom. in your sleep, you'd managed to move so you were laying against the soft, fluffed pillows that elevated you a little. your body had found itself engulfed in the blankets that surrounded you, ellie's scent filling the room.

but even the familiar scent of your girlfriends clothes you wore couldn't pull you out of the dream that had snuck it's way towards you now.

the eerie feeling creeped through your body, sending shivers throughout you as the hair stood on your arms. it snuck it's way through towards your head, seeping into your mind. before you'd fallen asleep, you'd almost assumed that the warm light of the room would keep the monsters and demons in your head at bay. but of course, without ellie, you were seemingly trapped.

ellie found herself making her way towards your guys' house a while later. it was late, so late, the sky had darkened completely, a black blanket enveloping the town of jackson. her jacket was covered in snow, little flakes draw across the material. she'd barely made it inside the house when the real snow began, she knew jackson like no other and she knew that by morning, the entire town would be covered in snow. she wasn't a fan but you adored it. you thought it was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen, she thought the same about you.

making her way inside, she kicked off her boots, tossing off her jacket and letting her bag fall against the ground. it was quiet, she took this as a good sign.

her sock covered feet trailed themselves towards the living room, peeking her head in and not spotting you anywhere. she supposed, that was also a good sign. perhaps you'd done what she asked and gotten some sleep for yourself.

before she left the living room, she made sure to put another log on the fire, knowing it'd be the last one for the night and hoping that it'd keep the house warm for a while. you'd mentioned lighting the stove in the kitchen earlier but ellie shrugged you off, stating that you both would be just fine with the living room fire. of course, you were right, you were always right and as her arms wrapped around herself, she realised she better start listening to you more.

she found herself walking up the stairs, reaching the top and flicking off the light. you were always too scared to do it by yourself, she couldn't help but smile fondly at the thought.

ellie's eyes glanced towards your guys' bedroom door, peeking inside. she could see that the bedside table lamp had been turned on and she found herself walking towards it, spotting you. you were all wrapped up in the blankets, your hair covering the only part of your face that had been visible. she couldn't see your face, however, she still managed to press a little kiss against your forehead, petting your head slightly. then, she grasped the book that was sitting next to you, it must have fallen. without a second thought, she took it from your position, placing it back on the table and then grasping the blankets, taking them down from your face and tucking them around your body. she pushed the hair from your face too, seeing your beautiful features suddenly come to life. she wondered how on earth she had gotten so lucky.

at this point, her eyes were almost fuzzy from tiredness so she hadn't noticed the way your brows were scrunched together, lips strewn in a pout. turning off the only light in the bedroom, she moved away from your body, grasping her jumper and pulling it off her body. she stayed clad in her sports bra, her hands fumbling with the buttons of her jeans, letting them fall off her. it wasn't until she was stepping into her sweatpants that she heard it. a noise fell from your lips, a little whimper.

instantly, her ears perked up, turning her head in your direction. you'd moved from where you last were, almost shoving your face in the pillows beneath you. then, she heard it again, that loud, prolonged whine.

and she knew, it wasn't right.

she was rushing towards you in seconds. getting up onto the bed and her hands finding your body. "hey, hey, wake up, baby." those blasted nightmares that she wished she could get rid of. her poor girl didn't deserve such things. "c'mon, angel, wake up." she tried, her hands pushing at you, shaking you gently albeit.

"please." you mumbled, all broken and soft as you pushed your head into the pillow impossibly more. though, your eyes were still strewn shut, ragged breaths falling from your lips. "please no."

and ellie's heart broke impossibly more. she knew what you were dreaming of, those clickers, those stalkers, the infected, taking your parents and piecing them apart piece by piece all in front of your eyes. their blood spewing onto you. you'd tried so hard, fought for them and in the end you were left with dead clickers, though your parents weren't in any better condition. "wake up, sweet girl." though her voice was slick with stress, trying to will you awake.

when you did wake, a scream was ripping at your throat. you were up in seconds, your breathing laboured and whimpers falling from your lips. ellie's arms were wrapping around you so instantly, you found yourself clawing her off. "please, please, stop, don't―" you couldn't see that it was ellie in the darkness of the bedroom, only feeling arms engulfing you.

"hey, hey, it's just me. 's ellie." she wrapped her arms around yours, strapping them down so you didn't flail them, hurting her or yourself in the process of waking.

you stopped moving, although your breathing was still laboured, breaths shallow and uneven. "ellie." is all you mumbled, so confused. everything had felt so surreal, as if you were there in the moment once more, now that you were back in the bedroom with ellie by your side, it just didn't seem real.

she'd placed your back against her front, sitting behind you as she held you close. "'s okay, sweetheart, 'm right here, ellie's here." but she could hear the way your breathing only picked up, your mind flooding with thoughts of the nightmare. "i gotchu, angel, calm down, alright?" but you couldn't, you tried, believe me you tried but your breathing wouldn't stop, you couldn't catch your breath. ellie knew what to do, noticing the panic attack that was stringing upon you. "hey, c'mere." her hand fell down to your own, clasping it softly, she brought it up to her lips, pressing a kiss to it before placing it on her chest. "y'feel that, honey? 's my heart, 'm here and so are you." she placed your hand over to your own chest, feeling the harsh beat of your heart against it, it was a stark contrast to the soft one of her own. she moved downward slightly, pulling you with her so she could lay on her back, laying your head against her chest. "jus' match my breathing, baby, you've got this." and you tried, wheezing your breaths out. "jus' like that, such a good girl. where are you, sweets?"

you let out a shaky breath. "h-home." you managed to get out, your eyes still welled with tears.

she hummed, agreeing with you. "whose home?"

"ours." you spoke softly, shutting your eyes and breathing out. you attempted everything in your will to stop the rapidness of your heartbeat. but ellie didn't pressure you, making sure you took your time.

"my smart girl." she mumbled. "'s right, you're home. we're home, okay? there's absolutely nothing for you to worry about, nothing can get you here, you're safe."

"els." she hummed, waiting for you to finish. "w-was s'scared." this was when your breathing had returned to normal but the tears willing to break free were still embedded into your eyes.

"oh, i know, honey." feeling her heart break for you. she held you close, pressing kisses into your hair. she wished she could help more, she felt utterly useless just keeping you in her arms. though, her fingers soothed up and down your back, trying to comfort you. she'd never know just how good of a job she was doing. "but there's nothing to be scared of anymore, 'm here, okay?"

you nodded, breathing out as you placed your head in the crook of her neck, she could feel your steady breaths against her skin. "feel safe with you." you told, fluttering your eyes shut. suddenly, the world didn't feel so scary, the past didn't seem so terrifying. with ellie, being truly safe seemed possible.

"you are safe with me." she informed you, fingers pressing shakes onto your skin. "what happened to you was... awful." your chest ached at the thought of that night with your parents. "but nothing more is going to happen to you as long as i'm here."

you pulled your head from her neck, looking up at her with those watery eyes. "promise?" voice bleak and broken.

ellie smiled softly at you. "I promise." pulling your head towards her to capture your lips in a soft kiss. you melted into her, allowing her to heal you with her touch, her hand against your jaw. when she pulled away, she was pulling the hair away from your face, big green eyes looking at you so full of admiration and love. "'s me 'n you against the world, baby."

never in your life had you been so sure of something before.

main masterlist/ellie's masterlist

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wthtorke · 7 months

Text

Snowstorm

*Looks around* Well hello lmao what a better way to return than posting a THICK ass fic huh

8K words - Warnings for getting trapped, small spaces, and everything that comes with it + general trauma + injury - Gender-neutral reader

Enjoy! <3

You often put others' needs before your own.

Not that you noticed you did it. It took some pointing out from your close friends to get you to realize just how you swept your desires under the rug.

After god knows how much pushing, you agreed to go on a trip by yourself. "No work worries, no guys, no girls, just you and your alone time!" Your friend had said.

You sat in your living room with your laptop, browsing through destinations and flight tickets. Everyone seemed eager to see you go on the trip. At least, you hoped it was that. While you loved your friends, you worried that if you were not helpful somehow, they would drop you cold.

Were they happy for you or happy to see you go? You didn't know, but the trip could help that too. You wanted to be more independent, sure, and in tune with yourself.

Your eyes stop on an ad, and immediately you click it.

Skiing in the Rocky Mountains.

You smile. The cool crisp air may do you some good.

You book the ticket and the hotel for your stay, and as the week goes by, you pack your bags. You had gone on other trips throughout your life, of course, but this one felt a little different. Maybe because it'd be your first alone adventure in a long time, but whatever it was, you felt good about it.

The day before the trip, you say goodbye to your friends and head back to your house. Only 7 hours of sleep and a couple more of flight separated you from snow and, hopefully, a lot of fun.

The trip is easy enough. You get to your room at the hotel and unpack just enough to start exploring as soon as you could.

Groups of people gathered at the tourist stops choosing what they would be doing and booking activities for the day. Just as you reach the board, the ski equipment is fully booked for the day already.

You frown as a lady beside you nods. "Yup, all gone! I'm pissed as fuck too! You either bring your own or get here at the butt of the morning to rent equipment." She sighs. "I'm going on a hike. Make sure to leave your name in the equipment call, though. If somebody gives up, they should give you preference, it seems." She shrugs.

You nod, perking up and signing your name with the clerk's list, looking back at the girl again, "what hike did you choose?"

"Me? One of the easy ones, that one-," she points at the boards again. The list still had some spots left, "It's the longest of the easy ones, though. Thinking about joining?"

You nod, "Yeah, it's only my first day here. It sounds good enough for a first day," you say, picking up the pen and putting down your info on the list. The group would depart in 30 minutes, enough time to prepare for it.

"Nice! I'll see you at the meeting point later then!" She smiles and walks off. You smile at the clerk and head back to your room to pack your bag for the hike.

You pack your backpack with energy bars, the biggest water bottle you could find, the emergency first aid kit one of your friends gifted you, a hiking map you bought in the reception, a small emergency light, an emergency bivy, and an emergency blanket, just in case.

On your way down, you buy two sandwiches from a machine, along with a soup-filled thermos, stuffing them in your backpack before heading to the meeting spot.

You look around, searching for the lady you talked to earlier, wondering if she would make it in time.

She arrives 2 minutes before your departure, panting a bit but smiling at you, waving as she walks over. "Hey there, ready to freeze up there?"

"Definitely not." You two laugh as your guide speaks up, stating the hike rules and emergency tips. "And lastly, do not go anywhere alone. The hike is easy, but don't underestimate it! Safety is in numbers, always. Now, with all of that said, let's get hiking!"

The way up is slow. People chat quietly while they walk, taking pictures and generally marveling about the views, you included.

The wind is ice cold and makes your lungs feel a bit prickly when you breathe. Your cheeks are cold, a reminder that you were really there, enjoying a hike on a trip you made on your own. It makes you smile.

You're halfway up when your newfound friend approaches you again.

"So, you came by yourself?" The girl asks. You nod, "yeah, I thought I would do something different…what about you?"

"I travel alone all the time. First time here, though!" She smiles, "After I started going places alone, I just couldn't stop. It's way easier." She says. The guide announces your first stop to rest is just up ahead.

As most of the group sits down to eat and drink, you and your friend sit on a fallen log at the edge of the trail. You pull out one of your bars while she takes a few swigs of her water bottle.

You're laughing at her jokes when a crack calls your attention toward the trees. You turn around to look, staring intently at the trees. Your friend’s gaze switches from you to the trees multiple times, “Bestie? You good?”

“Did you hear anything?” You ask her, still searching. The chatter from the rest of the group dies down as you strain to hear anything from the trees again. “It’s probably a squirrel or something.” She shrugs.

“I think that was too heavy to be a squirrel.” You say, hearing it again as you get up from the log, picking up your backpack. She does the same, “Okay….maybe it’s a huge squirrel or a deer?” She says, starting to sound worried as well.

The cracking sounds get louder and more violent before a strong gust of wind hits both of you. A big thundering sound follows it. You realize what’s happening all too late.

“Avalanche! Run!”

You both scream and make for it. The snow comes crashing down through the trees as you and your friend sprint through the trail, trying to catch up with the rest of the group. You look at the snow for a fraction of a second and slip.

You fall to the ground. You can barely hear any screaming over the falling snow’s booming noise. You scream and try getting up again, putting your hands up to shield yourself from the snow.

Another sound hits your ears before a blur launches itself toward you. The sound is blood-curdling, bone-chilling, roaring as loud as the snow coming for you. You feel the impact of said thing against your body, throwing you both off the edge. You hold onto it, whatever it was. Screaming and closing your eyes as you both flew over the edge.

He had seen it coming, of course. While his brothers and sisters went for the hottest countries on whatever planet they landed in. He loved the snow. He had over two centuries of experience with it.

He saw it coming.

You are as light as he thought you would be. He holds you and your backpack against his chest as you fall off the snowy ledge. The cord of his wrist gauntlet catches against the stone. He snaps it off as you both get launched into the cave underneath the ledge.

He lands hard on his feet, setting you down unceremoniously on the ground before rushing back to the cave entrance. The snow rages violently over as it falls from the edge, washing over anything in its way. He had been using this cave for a few days now. He knew this could happen. Would happen.

Still, he needed to close the entrance.

The snow piles and pushes inside the cave. He aims his blaster toward the entrance’s ceiling and shoots, jumping over to your side as the stones crash down, stopping the snow from burying you both alive as he shields your body from the falling rocks.

It’s too much. You cry and scream while keeping your face on the floor, hands shielding your head as the booming noises of cracking trees, snow, and falling rocks make your heart pound in every which way inside your ribcage. You get dragged closer by the man who saved you, and you hug the thigh he was crouching on the ground with, sobbing into it as you wait for the nightmare to be over.

It feels like hours. It probably is hours long until the wreckage comes to a stop. You still hear the avalanche layers settling on top of the cave and its would-be entrance. The cave is pitch black. You can’t see a palm in front of your face. All you hear is your ragged breathing and the man’s -somehow- calm one. His is heavier, although slower than yours. he was big, you were sure he was from the blur you saw standing there before the rocks fell. His breathing had a dragging sound to it, a soft ‘ch ch ch’ that made your hairs stand on end. Oh God, what if he was asthmatic?

“I- I think we’re okay now-” You say. He doesn’t reply. “Sir, are you hurt? Oh God-” You panic, patting around the floor for your bag, scooting away from him until you find it. “I’ve got a light in here. God, I hope it’s not broken!” You take a deep breath and try to remember where you placed it, counting the small bags on the front before reaching the fourth one. You pull its zip and reach for the light. The thick, now wet, gloves you wear make the metal almost slip from your grasp.

“Please turn on, please turn on,” You pray as you push the button, successfully illuminating the wall in front of you. “Yes! Okay, now we can-” You turn around, looking for the man,

Finding something else entirely.

It’s bigger than any man you’ve ever known in your life. Its skin is of a blueish hue with black mottling. It has protrusions that remind you of a hedgehog’s quills up its forearms, chest, and the sides of its face. It wore a mask along with dense-looking armor that looked battle-worn. Its chest heaved the same slow and steady breathing, making the quills drag against the black netting it wore.

Your pupils dilate in dread as you perceive it whole. Your body freezes. Your breath hitches.

And you faint.

The light falls from your hand as your body hits the floor. Your backpack acts as a hard pillow as the world darkens and comes to a stop.

He watches as you turn into stone and pass out on your equipment, and only then does he move toward you. He grabs the small light you produced from your pack and turns it off with the click of a button, careful not to break it. He did not need light, not as long as he had his mask (even if he didn’t, if he was honest), and not as long as you were unconscious.

‘Might as well save its power.’ He thinks.

He takes a quick check over your form. Bruising was sure to occur. Your ankle was sprained, also expected. All in all, everything is fine. He’s glad about that.

Now, for air.

He stands up and walks to the entrance again. While it wasn’t safe to leave the cave while the layers were still loose, and with the temperatures dropping outside, your chances of survival were low, even if his weren’t. But being wholly shut in wouldn’t do either, especially with your panicked breath. Screaming requires air. Lots of it.

He stretches his palm over the cold stone, feeling around. A few well-placed holes would do well enough. Stepping back, his aim shines over the stone once more.

Adjusting the width of each blast, he lasers perfect circles scattered on the wall. The snow outside melts, and fresh, cold air drifts in through the holes before more snow covers them once more. He reaches for his back pocket, retrieving several silver rings, and places them into the holes in the stone. Adjusting the desired length of each ring before pressing a button, he watches the holograms expand on his gauntlet until they surpass the snow outside. He checks each tube, satisfied when air flows steadily through all of them.

He turns back to you and walks over.

He couldn’t say what made him save you. He had been hunting in the mountains. He did see you and your group going up. But why did he risk himself to save you? He didn’t know. He found himself clutching the tree he was perched on when the snow went down, even though he would have been safe. He leaped before you fell to your knees in the snow.

Crouching down, he takes a second to look at your face.

You groan, and he sits down, moving back to give you some space. You look around, seeing the thin light streaks coming from the wall. You look a bit to the side and squint, spotting the one figure you hoped was a dream.

A scream rips from your throat as you panic once more, almost crushing your light in the process. You back up into the nearest wall and point your light at him, turning it on again. “What are you?! What-!”

It’s a strange creature, half man and half… something else. You had no idea what.

He lifts his hands up, and you grasp your light firmly as if it were a gun. “Don’t move-! Stay there! Who are you? What do you want?!” You ask. Demand.

You hear audio shuffling before a distorted, “Easy…- Easy…” reaches your ears. You recognize the voice. Your instructor, the line spoken to the whole group while going through a particularly slippery part of the trail that morning. “What-...What are you? You’re not a man-, who are you?” You ask desperately.

He shakes his head, and you want to cry harder, though he didn’t answer your second question. “Am I dead?” You sob. He shakes his head again and slowly points to the door.

“-..-Thick S̴̨̛̛̞͉̗̜̦̘̤̤̱͉͖͒̍̑̆̑͌͆̃̕n̴̡̳̖͕̹̞͎̝̞͂̿̀̾̏̈̈́́͝ơ̸̝̣̓̔̾͊̈́̇̇̋̎̓͜͝w-.”

You sniffle, not peeling your eyes from him. “Are you going to hurt me? Please don’t-” He doesn’t reply, slowly lowering his hands again. You start to get nervous again before he points to the corner of the cave. Hesitantly, you cast the light to it, seeing the glint of the metal-like cord he had used to save you both. Your eyes widen as you try to remember the quick flashes of the occurred. You fell. The snow was coming. Something caught you, held you, and you fell over the edge. The light moves back to his form. “It was you-, so you saved me, okay-, but why?”

Again, no reply.

The tears form cold, stiff streaks on your cheeks as you try to wipe them with the back of your gloves. You look around the cave. It wasn’t that big. You doubted you could stand up fully inside it, let alone someone as big as your…new friend. He had taken care of the air supply, but you weren’t properly trained for this. You feared you wouldn’t last until the morning. Not like this.

“You-, you made the holes in the walls, right? Can’t you get us out?” You ask him. He shakes his head. “Safer-...Here.”

“How is it safer here? We’re buried to our necks in-...Snow.” He nods.

“Snow is a good insulator, right?” He nods again. “Right…So you’ll get us out in the morning?” He doesn’t reply. “I’ll take that as a hopeful yes.” You say, setting your light down in the middle of the cave, pointing at the ceiling, illuminating the space the best it could.

You open your backpack and set to planning your night here. You see your phone and gasp, trying to get it. No signal.

You sigh as you look at the rest of your pack. You had your blanket, emergency bivy, and food and water were also fine. Nothing got broken during your rescue, thankfully.

You take a look at your companion to find him also going through his own pack, though his equipment looked far different than yours. They almost seemed like…weapons.

Oh, God.

“Do you come here often?” You ask. His head snaps at you. You freeze.

He shakes his head, and you sigh in relief. “You don’t…hunt people, right?”

He keeps staring. You wish you hadn’t asked. “Innocent people? You hunt innocent people?” Perhaps it was the trauma, the ice, the pain, or the sheer chaos of the situation you found yourself in. But judging an alien creature wasn’t as impossible as you thought it’d be. “Hunters- -Like me.” His mask croaks.

Your eyebrows shoot up. “You hunt…other hunters? Human ones or, like, -really- like you? People like you?”

“-Like me.” He repeats.

“Your own species? Like a cop?”

A few seconds pass before you hear your own voice. “Like a cop.” Your eyes widen more. “So you’re a space cop, got it…Then what are you doing here on Earth? And in the -snow- of all places?”

A strange sound comes from him. A scoff.

“Vaca̶̤͔͚͌̃͝ͅtion timee̷̛͖̬͙̞̞̯͙͉͓̓́̈́̀̚e̴̛̞͎͆̀͂̉̎̂͘̕͠͝e-” A young girl’s voice followed by laughter.

You find yourself laughing nervously at the audio. A soft laugh that makes him tilt his head slightly. “Me too.” You say, “Ironically enough.”

You set out your equipment in silence before you unwrap your first sandwich. You look at your watch. 3 PM. Nice time to have a heavier snack, then you could eat the bars until the night and then eat your soup. And you’d still have your second sandwich!

Your…second sandwich.

“Hey.” You look at him again. He looks up from organizing his gear. “Do you have any food in that pack of yours? I have an extra one here.” You lift the wrapped sandwich to show him.

He seems to consider before giving you a dismissive hand gesture, going back to his fiddling.

“I have plenty here,” You say. “I don’t think…someone as big as you shouldn’t go too long without eating something.” He looks at you again. His mask moves slightly. You weren’t sure if he was really looking at your hand or not.

“It’s just a turkey sandwich, are you vegetarian?” You ask, worried, for some reason. He makes a strange sound. Clicking and huffing came from his mask. Was he laughing?

“Look, to me, you’re a carnivore -at least- but I can’t be too sure, right? You’re the first…alien I know.”

He shakes his head. “Not-, Vegetarian.”

You nod, digging around your backpack for the other sandwich before tossing it to him. The speed with which he catches it is impressive enough. You blink, and his hand moves from the ground to beside his mask, catching the sandwich.

He eyes it as you eat your own. For a second, you wonder if he’s allergic to anything in it. You’re about to ask when he moves again, sitting with his back turned to you.

You frown in confusion as he sets the sandwich down on his thigh before starting to take the mask off.

Each pop it makes has your eyes widening impossibly more. With everything that happened, you forgot the mask wasn't his -face-.

He sets the mask down, its impassive expression staring at you from the floor while he picks up the sandwich again, unwrapping it.

You wondered what he looked like without it. It felt too rude to ask. Maybe he wanted to remain anonymous from you.

Maybe the light hurt his eyes. Maybe he didn’t want to scare you.

Maybe he was just -shy-.

The clicking sound- now much louder and clear, calls your attention back to reality. You watch as he apparently throws the whole sandwich into his mouth, if he really had one, and swallows it whole.

If he chewed it, you didn’t hear it. But you do hear the biggest ‘gulp’ of your life coming from him.

You jump a little bit when he picks up the mask again, snapping the tubes back on and turning around again.

You finish eating your own food and put the trash in your bag. "I need something I can…call you- you know, other than alien? That feels rude.”

He shakes his head, and you lick your cold lips in thought. “How does Storm sound? I don’t think ‘Avalanche’ is any good.” You shrug, taking a swig from your water bottle. “I don’t think I should mention this to anyone, right?”

He nods. You purse your lips again, “Look- I know the less contact between us the better, and I definitely shouldn't be asking these questions- but if I don't talk I think I'll go insane."

Storm crosses his arms, seemingly in thought before he says a simple, firm, "Yes."

"...Are there more alien species? Do you know them? Seen any?"

"Yes. -Yes….Yes."

"Wow." You whisper to yourself. "You're the most amazing and intense thing that ever happened to me…besides the avalanche, of course."

He relaxes, shifting a bit to sit against the stone wall. You do the same, resting against your pack. "Our government must know of you- are we friends? Our people?"

He shakes his head. You sag. "Oh…that sucks" Storm tilts his head, and a series of cut audios gather your attention again. "Government- sucks."

You laugh. His shoulders shake slightly. Maybe he was laughing as well?

"This wasn't what I had in mind when I came here, but I'm glad you're here. Thank you for saving me," you say. He stares at you before nodding slowly.

You smile and look at his pack on the floor, "Hey, do you have water? I have some if you want." He shakes his head and pulls out a metal bottle from one of the pouches on his back. A canteen?

“Do you want to lay out our things? We could see what we have and how we’re going to split it until tomorrow. I know the first rule is overpacking is good but…I don’t reeeally have that much,” you let out a nervous laugh.

He takes a second and stands on his knees. He is almost as tall as you'd be standing like that. He gathers his pack and throws it closer to you while he moves over.

You stare at him for a couple of seconds before the mask slowly turns to you. “Oh-, right, sorry- you’re just- okay never mind- So, I got my light, of course-, I got some energy bars, water, a map, a bivy, a blanket, a knife, a little emergency kit, and soup! Well-, more food if you can’t translate that.” You hold up the thermos like it was a prized trophy, "what do you got?"

He starts laying his own things out.

A dagger, cuffs of some kind, knives, a -whip-, the canteen he had shown you earlier, mini orbs that suspiciously looked like smoke bombs from movies, plus other things- probably weapons too, you had no idea the use of. And last, but not least, he offers you a jar.

You put yours down and hold his. The lid is not nearly as simple as yours, it has a mechanism on top of it. You frown in confusion before he snorts and presses two buttons on top of it.

The lid fizzes, and you gasp, looking up at him. He nods, and you slowly take it off, placing it on top of your blanket. The smell hits your nose, and you look at him again. "Jerky? Oh my God-, can I?" He nods.

You carefully take a strip of meat from the jar. "What kind of meat is this? This isn't…human, right?" You gulp. He shakes his head and lifts his wrist. His gauntlet shows a hologram of a deer.

"Ohhhh, wow, you're really a hunter, aren't you?" You marvel, putting the strip back in the jar before closing it again. Storm taps the same buttons, and it seals tight again.

You place the jar on the floor along with everything else. The contrast between your equipment and his is stark. You laugh a bit. "Well, aren't we made for each other?" He snorts as you check your watch.

You look up and find his mask very close to you, also looking at your watch. "It's not as fancy as yours," you laugh, holding your wrist up for him to see.

Being this close, you feel your face heat up. You look down at his torso when he gently grabs your wrist, inspecting it closer. "You- are you not um- cold? You're not exactly ah…layered up."

He did wear some fur around his shoulders and waist, but other than that, only the netting and some armor. He does the clicking sound again- chuckling?

The hand on your wrist firms it while the other pops your glove open, pulling it up and off your hand. You jerk a bit when he pulls the naked hand to his chest. "Oh- what-...Oh."

Hot. He is hot. Literally.

You can't tell if the netting is heated or if he's just a furnace. But he's incredibly warm. Your fingers twitch as you concentrate on the feel of his skin. It wasn't like yours, that was for sure. It was almost rubbery, and hot but texturized as well. It was…well, alien. The prickly quills he had also were interesting to stare at.

What a Tarzan moment.

You take your hand back, putting your glove on again, "I'm jealous of that temperature. Even with all these layers, I'm still cold," you frown, "your planet must be scorching hot," you say.

He takes a while but nods.

He didn't exactly like sharing information, you learned. It was fair, he saved you- and he was an alien. Things were complicated. "I think you look great here though, in the snow," The glove feels cold compared to what you just experienced.

He scoffs, crossing his arms as you think about the events of today over and over again before looking at him once more. "Do you have any family?" The question hits you like a train and blurts out of your mouth before you could filter it. "I mean- if you can tell me."

He nods, and your eyebrows go up in surprise. Not that you thought he wouldn't have one. He had a belly button, so he couldn't have just…spawned from somewhere. You smile at the mental image of him just popping into existence.

You look back at your equipment, especially at the food. "Look, I know we're on 'not too much involvement' thing, but you don't have to turn away every time to eat. I won't tell anyone- though I'm sure the government must have blurry pictures of others like you in their archives somewhere already."

He's closer to you than before, having not moved away since your little touching moment. His presence is as grounding as it is exciting. It makes you alert and awake, even though you're so tired.

Storm's mask turns to you slightly, considering.

"Scary."

You frown. "Scary? Your face is scary? But your mask is so…familiar? Is it too different from it?"

He nods again.

"Oh- well, I won't be afraid of you, you saved my life, and now we're here chatting and having an icy picnic covered in snow. I'd say this makes us best friends." You smile. He huffed.

What he does instead is lift his wrist gauntlet again. Another hologram pops up.

"Ohhhhh my-" You look back up at his mask. Its cold expression almost mocks you. "Okay, you weren't lying when you said it was different- why do you guys make it like that? You know what- that's none of my business, sorry." You look back at the hologram.

While you didn't know if it was really him- the hologram was all red-, the way their faces were just…made sense. The tusks, the teeth, the mandibles. You marvel at the quills on the eyebrows, just like they were on the rest of him.

Something must have been wrong with you, but you didn't think he was ugly.

"I get the scary part. I'd freak out if I saw you in the dark, no offense." He chuckles deeply, the most you've seen him laugh so far. You smile again. "Thanks for showing me, now I won't pass out on you again if you take it off." He shuts it off. You almost made a sad noise at it.

Suddenly, all the excitement takes a toll on you. With your last burning curiosity sated, your eyes begin to get heavier. "Okay, I think the adrenaline is starting to wear off." You say. "I think I'm going to sleep a bit."

He gets up, checking the air supply tubes in the stone. You worm your way into your bivy, leaving the blanket for him if he needs it. He probably wouldn't, but the thought eased you. "Wake me up if anything changes okay?" You say. He doesn't react. You take a painkiller and lay down again.

"...and please don't leave me here alone." You say, with a little more emotion than you anticipated.

He turns his head and nods before going back to his inspection.

You close your eyes for a second.

Just a second.

You jolt awake when a hand closes around your shoulder. You blink several times, breathing in deeply as you focus on the mask before you again. "Hey- anything changed?"

Storm shakes his head, pointing at your watch instead as you sit up. You check the time. 7:15 PM. Your ice cave definitely feels colder now.

You get up, taking your soup thermos out of the bag. Its lid made for a little bowl. You prayed it was still warm.

You sigh in relief as you pour the soup on the lid. It was lukewarm, but the warmth spreading through your torso was priceless. You're on your second sip when you hear the same fizzy noise as before. Your eyes darted to your side where Storm was taking his mask off.

You gulp as the second tube is snapped off. He's facing forward as he's sitting beside you. But still, you would see it.

You tip the cup back as you swallow your third sip, hoping the thick plastic would disguise your blatant staring.

Storm's fingers slip under the metal, snapping it briefly before lifting it from his face. Your breath quickens quietly as your eyes follow the metal until it's placed on the floor. You stare at it before slowly looking back up.

Storm is looking at you.

Your eyes dilate as you take in every aspect of his face. The mandibles, the tusks, the sharp teeth peeking from behind tightly closed tusks. The blue hue from his body painted his face, fading into a cool white tone in the middle of his face. The edges of his head are shaped like a crown. A black crown that closed into the middle of his head, where the blues and whites were.

And then the eyes. His eyes.

Unlike the rest of him, Storm’s eyes were yellow. Deep, electric yellow. The primal instinct in your brain told you this was wrong. His face was wrong. Well, he wasn’t human. You were coded to think anything with different features walking on two legs was weird.

Your brain told you to run, scream or get help, to do something -against- him while the rest of you knew well that he was an ally. It was hard to go against every fiber of your being and stay still.

‘He’s still your friend.’ You think. ‘He just looks a little different.’

Storm’s expression changes, and while you can’t grasp what the tusk movements must mean yet, you surely know what a skeptical eyebrow raise looks like. “I’m not freaking out, I swear.” You manage to say. You have no idea if he still understands you without the mask.

He seems to, as his top tusks twitch and his eyebrows relax. He looks away and grips his own jerky jar. You’re suddenly reminded of your soup. You pour more soup onto the lid, gulping it down while trying your best not to openly stare at him.

It’s evident he’s also trying to ignore you while he eats. His tusks part and he inserts the chunks of jerky in. You can’t see any molars in your ogling. Maybe he was made for tearing out chunks of food and swallowing them like a crocodile?

You gulp down more of your soup until it’s down to half of it. You shake the thermos a bit, doing your best to stir the soup before leaning it toward him. “Would you like some?” To your surprise, he’s also offering you his jar. You smile, nodding, “Let’s swap.”

You trade bottles, picking out a piece of jerky while he brings the thermos closer to his mouth. He didn’t have an apparent nose, but maybe he just smelled things differently. He must have deemed it good enough for his mandible part, and he tips his head back, drinking the soup. You half expected it to spill over and make a mess, but having done this for however long he had lived, he knew what he was doing.

You, on the other side, had no idea what you’d do without your lips.

After eating your fill and re-packing, you huddle close to him. Storm messed with his wrist gauntlet as you lost yourself in your thoughts once more. For once in your life, the silence was comfortable. Sure, you couldn’t exactly communicate, but that didn’t feel like a problem.

You could communicate with your friends and family, but it still made you anxious at times. Next time you check your watch, it's about 9 PM. “I think we should sleep,” you say, getting his attention once more. “I’ve slept a bit and…fainted, but you haven’t slept yet.”

Seeing him without the mask was as otherworldly as it was interesting. Seeing his expressions as he listened to you, then changing while he thought before finally setting as he nodded.

You smile and crawl back to your bivy while he checks the air supply once more. You had no idea how you would get out of the cave tomorrow, but you trusted Storm and his high-tech equipment. And his muscles. The muscles were a big plus, too.

By the time he turns around, you’re inside your bivy, but you point to the blanket folded neatly on top of your backpack. “I know you’re well warm, but the blanket is over there if you need it.” He looks at it briefly before nodding at you. He hands you your emergency light and lays down on the opposite side of the cave, about two arm's lengths away from you.

“Good night, partner.” You say before shutting the light off, getting a grunt in return.

The cave was pitch black as you expected. You shuffle a bit in your bivy before settling down completely on your side. You wondered how people outside were doing. Did the avalanche make the news? Did your friends know? Was anyone else hurt during it? You were thankful to be alive, thankful for Storm, but you felt bad for everyone else.

Tears prickled in the corners of your vision as you try so hard to fall asleep. It’s cold, you’re trapped in a cave with an alien. Not that Storm was a negative point. You’d be dead without him. But things were far from okay right now.

You hear shuffling and wonder if Storm also has trouble sleeping. He’d been calm so far, never raising his voice or panicking. ‘Maybe he’s used to these situations.’ You think, given the scars he bears on his body. You didn’t want to think of what could hurt someone like Storm.

Your chest feels tight. It’s hard to push the anxiety down. You almost want to talk to him again, but what would you say? What -could- you say? You were the one to suggest sleeping in the first place. Your heart beats faster, and you’re awfully aware of your surroundings, even in the dark.

The walls are cold and wet. The air is a little stale. You can smell yourself as you can also smell Storm behind you. You can smell the thick rubbery scent of your gloves as they grip the bivy’s lining with all they got. Like you had gripped Storm earlier that day when he rescued you.

You swallow dryly, trying to breathe in and out to avoid negative thoughts. Things would be okay. You were alive, fairly warm, and you had a big alien as your personal bodyguard through a disaster. You hear more shuffling. The sound of the emergency blanket being unfolded hits your ears. You wait a couple of seconds, eyes darting around in the dark before you open your mouth to ask him if he was okay.

You’re in the middle of breathing your first word when you feel the blanket getting laid on top of your bivy. Storm smooths out the blanket on top of you before laying down again, closer to you this time. You’re at loss for words. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water.

You feel his breath against the top of your beanie, so his chest must be somewhere in front of you now. You bite your lip, feeling the knot in your chest loosen the tiniest bit. You were not alone. Things were going to be okay. You focus on his breathing pattern, so even and calm. Constant. The sound his tusks occasionally make is soothing over the deathly silence of the cave. You don’t remember closing your eyes, nor do you remember falling asleep.

The way your bladder burns wakes you up. Storm’s breathing is heavier now, asleep. It pains you to move, like getting your pet out of your lap after it finally got comfortable.

As soon as you move, his breathing stops. Then resumes in that light, calculated rhythm. Awake.

“Sorry, sorry,” you whisper, worming out of your bivy, patting around for your light. You go to the far corner of the cave and do your business, covering it with loose dirt with your boot, thanking the universe Storm didn’t move an inch from where he was.

Taking your pants off in the unbelievable cold of a 3 AM shut-in ice cave was no easy business. Curse bodily functions to the end and back. You do your best to push the burning shame down and head to your backpack, sanitizing your hands.

You steal a glance to your side while you think, catching Storm looking directly at you. Your spine shivers a bit, a mix from the cold and his gaze. You take another sip of water and crawl back into your bivy, mindful of your ankle.

It makes your face heat up more to see how close he’s been to you for all these hours and how he doesn’t care enough to move away, even now that you disrupted him awake.

You lick your lips and clutch your light, looking at him again before shutting it off. Your face is still hot from all of it, but you listen intently to his breathing and clicking. You hoped he wouldn’t move away from you just yet, at least until you fell asleep.

You feel the warmth coming from his chest, moving your head forward so you could be closer to it, trying to chase away the rest of the cold from your suit again. That pee break cost you some precious degrees.

You’re still sulking internally when he finally moves. Your eyes widen in the dark as he spreads the blanket over you again. You smile and close your eyes, only to open them again as widely as before when you feel his arm drape over you.

He grunts, and suddenly you’re being dragged forward by that same arm. Your forehead hits something, and you instantly know it's his chest. You swallow hard. It’s as hot as it was earlier, rumbling with each breath.

“Warm.” He croaks. You shiver at how deep his real voice is. You nod fervently against his chest. The arm stays around you.

It takes you several minutes of internal struggle to calm down again. Your face is hotter, both from your embarrassment and his body temperature. Your ears turn back on when you hear a faint noise.

You squint, leaning in closer, and the sound gets louder.

His heartbeat.

Your body relaxes, almost melting against him.

His arm tightens the tiniest bit around you. You press your cheek against his chest, feeling his mandibles graze against the top of your beanie.

The rest of the night goes by too fast for your liking.

He wakes you up at 7 AM sharp. You almost want to cry when you realize the arm is no longer holding you, that his heartbeat is not against your ear still.

He packs his equipment, and so do you, leaving only the map out. “We were here yesterday.” You say, pointing at the map. “The hotel is here, and I think the equipment stall is here?” You felt like you were explaining your destination to a taxi driver.

You look up at him. He’s masked and ready to leave. So are you.

“How are we going to do this? Or, well, how you’re going to do this?” You ask. Storm makes a punching motion toward the stone. You almost can’t believe your very eyes. “Oh.”

Storm retracts the tubes and puts them away in one of his bags. This was it.

You stand at the side as Storm readies himself. He pushes some buttons on his gauntlet. You brace yourself as it makes a firing-up noise.

Storm steadies himself and times the punch with the gauntlet’s blast.

You close your eyes at the noise, protecting your head with your hands before you’re snatched from the ground once more.

You open them again when blinding light covers your eyelids. Everything is white as your eyes adjust. When colors flood your vision, you realize that not only you’re out of the cave but you’re in the air. Everything moves too fast.

Storm holds you up as he lands harshly in the snow piled below between trees. You shake the snow off your face as he works you both out of the thick snow bank. He squats again, and you hold tightly onto his neck before he jumps once more.

You struggle not to scream this time as well.

Storm lands firmly onto the snowy forest floor. He places you down gently as he surveys the area before relaxing once more. You look around, looking at the mountainside, following the trail of broken rocks until you see the cave's would-be entrance, quickly getting topped with more falling snow. “We were there?” You ask, out of breath. Storm nods. You turn to him. “Good legs.” You compliment. He huffs behind the mask.

You feel buzzing coming from your backpack, frowning in confusion before you remember your phone. Placing the pack on the floor, you quickly check it, watching as the multiple messages and missed calls finally load into your screen. You smile, choking on your breath before looking at Storm again.

You avoid your hurting ankle as you surge forward and wrap your arms around him again. He barely moves, not stepping back or stopping you. His hands hesitate at his sides before coming up and resting them on your shoulders, pressing you against him once before letting go.

You look up at him, seeing him at full height in daylight felt unreal. “Thank you so much. I owe you everything. You saved me. You had no obligation to, but you did. Thank you so much.” You bury your face into his chest again, feeling it rumble. You smile before he tenses up, and you both hear the helicopter sound from far away.

You let him go, looking up at the sky before looking back at him. Your heart tore into pieces. “You can go now.” The tears sting your eyes. “I’ll be fine from here.” He looks back at you.

“I’ll never forget you.” You sob, “Thank you again, for everything.”

The helicopter gets closer. You watch as he disappears in front of your very eyes. The blue skin and armor blend with the snow and trees behind him before the reflective figure jumps up one tree to another, and another, until you lose track of it in the distance.

Cold tears slide down your face as you hobble your way to a clearing, throwing your arms up when the helicopter comes into view.

The rest of the day goes by too slowly for your liking.

You’re taken back to the hotel, where a makeshift hospital has been set up. You’re asked questions, to which you reply either ‘I don’t know’ or ‘I was buried in the snow all night’. You text your friends and relatives back while your ankle is tended to. You see the hiking girl from yesterday when you’re getting cleared from IV hydration hours later.

She screams in surprise, coming to hug you. ‘How did you make it?! Oh my God, we thought you were dead! I’m so happy to see you!” She cries, and so do you. After talking for a while, she shakes her head. “I’m cutting the damn trip -short-. I’m going the fuck home, and so should you. The flights are crazy, but there’s a company giving preference to the victims and their families.” She informs you.

One hour later, she hugs you one last time before leaving.

You do as she says, cutting the trip short as well, needing to process and recover from everything that happened. You’re promised heaven on earth by the hotel and the flight companies for future trips. Your friends scoff at the very thought of it. “Why the hell would you go back there? That’s insane of them to offer you packages like that.” One of them says.

You nod along the next few weeks until things slowly blend into normality again. You don’t tell anyone about what happened that night, and people don’t bother you about it. You look at your bag in your wardrobe every time you open it, thinking back to him, wondering if he also thought about you.

Six months of this go by. Followed by another six months.

One day, you open your wardrobe and pull your bag out again, dusting it for your trip. People worry about your decision of going back there. Some worry it might reopen wounds rather than closing them for good like you told them it would. Some others just thought you were crazy.

Crazy or not, you packed your bag and left. The flight took off and landed. You found yourself at the hotel, looking at the same clerk in the eyes again while she checked you in again, welcoming you back to the hotel.

You look at the hiking lists, finding them slightly different, but still running. You check in for solo hiking. You pack your bag accordingly this time, filled with all the necessities a survivor could need before you take off.

The forest is peaceful, and the track is fresh beneath your boots. You’re enjoying soup fondly at the end of the track when you hear that noise. The rumbly, clicking noise that you heard in your dreams for the past year. Always followed by the steady sound of a strong heartbeat.

You turn around, smiling when blue hues and armor flood your vision once more. ----------- If you read it till here, you're a champ lmao

Thanks for reading <3 muah muah

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biblio-smia · 6 months

Text

one | two | three

when it rains, it pours.

this sentiment rings in your chest - dully, an ache you can't get rid of.

the gray clouds that had hung in the sky, over your head, began to empty themselves mercilessly over grizzly lake. this morning's soft breeze picked up into an icy wind, creating a white cloud of rain that your windshield wipers could not quite battle. you could barely see the cars you shared the road with, water pounding on the roof of your car as you finally made it into your driveway.

the relentless rain had begun as a stray raindrop in your eye as you furiously walked to your car after your chewing out of clapton davis.

despite the anger you still held on to, warm in your chest and keeping you from shivering in your soaked clothes, you hoped clapton made it home before it'd begun to storm.

your home was empty, quiet as you padded to your room, cold hands digging for cozier clothes to lounge in. as you exchanged your wet clothes for dry ones, clapton wasted no time in intruding your thoughts.

each exchange you'd had with clapton began to play like a slideshow in your head, from the first time you'd seen him around to the first time you'd actually noticed him.

as you changed into something cozier to lounge in, every exchange with clapton began to play over and over. from the first time you’d seen him to the first time you'd actually noticed him.

the timeline of whatever had been going on between you and clapton was beginning to haunt you - it had no real definition. there was no concrete evidence of being anything more than friends. the idea had lived in the thoughts and assumptions of others, it had stopped there, never anything tangible to explain away the pain that you and clapton now shared.

the only proof that there was anything romantic lived in shy laughs exchanged and eye contact held a few seconds too long - but that was not anything real, not a confession or a date. so there was no reason to feel as heartbroken as you did now.

it wasn’t like clapton had done anything explicitly. but the way it’d felt like he was accusing you of something, of falling into a stereotype that had been pushed upon you, as if he’d thought it’d happen inevitably. had the line of thinking that, somehow, clapton davis was not cool enough to ask you out held him back from doing so?

the entire thing was beginning to make your head spin and your chest hurt, no longer able to discern what pain came from hurt and which came from anger. you could no longer tell what it was you wanted.

actually, no. it was clapton you wanted. you did still know that.

your brain forcibly showed you all the times he’d push his calculator over to you, answers sometimes right, mostly wrong, always trying to be helpful. all the times he’d sit a little too close to you, all the times he’d slump on the table when mr. kendall got too boring and his arm would slide right up against yours, his head just a few inches away. all the times you wondered what it’d be like running your hands through his curls, the moments you considered pretending that something was in clapton’s hair just to have an excuse to try it.

all the times you’ve imagined what his face would look like if you suddenly pulled him into a kiss.

clapton davis liked you. you knew this, a feeling deep in your gut. he had to, to talk and act like how he did with you. to ask you, clearly out of jealousy, if you were dating billy nolan out of all people (who was so terribly not your type).

you try to remember this about clapton as you try to calm your rage. there’s a part of you that’s glad you chewed clapton out, hopes he learned that you’re not as superficial as others might make you seem, and there’s another part that hopes you haven’t scared him off permanently.

god, you’re so glad it’s friday.

though, you wonder what it’d be like if you did have to see clapton tomorrow. would he act as he usually did, pretending like nothing had happened? would he apologize? ignore you? again, clapton had successfully begun to drive you crazy.

your head was aching and your eyes were closing, the sound of the rain still steady against your window as you drifted off, wondering what clapton would do now.

"clapton, i am seriously going to murder you."

"okay, sorry, geez," clapton sighs as he drops next to riley, weighing down the mattress. if his distress wasn't clear enough with the pacing that was driving riley crazy, it's evident with the way clapton groans hopelessly, palms rubbing his face as if to will a good idea out of his head. "i just don't know what to do." clapton admits desperately, edge in is voice muffled by his hands.

riley sighs. she's been partially annoyed when clapton appeared at her door, stomping in straight to her room without waiting for an invitation, riley grateful that her father had chosen to pass out in his room instead of the living room as she chased after clapton, awaiting an explanation. he'd given it to her as he paced, recounted every interaction, repeated every word exchanged. no, clapton davis could not remember formulas in physics, but he could remember how your face had light up when he'd complimented your sweater, how you'd proudly told him you'd thrifted it.

riley listens intently, letting clapton rant, forming her own objective opinion. she tries to take the things clapton says with a grain of salt, to imagine conversations between the two of you from an outside perspective. even then, you had to be into clapton if you let him make you listen to the music on his ipod - it was bad.

"okay," riley begins, idea suddenly striking her. "give me your phone."

"why?" clapton asks, removing his hands from his face, immediately defensive as he looks over at riley. "what are you going to do?"

"just trust me, okay?" riley puts a hand out impatiently, only content when clapton digs his small phone out of his pocket and slaps it into riley's hand. his heart is beating rapidly, eyes nervous as he glances at riley typing quickly.

"hey, i'm sorry about today," riley reads. "can we talk?"

"okay, no, that's bad," clapton says, immediately thinking of how to rework riley's words.

"too late. already sent it."

"what?" clapton shoots up in his spot, horror-stricken and mouth agape.

riley tries not to laugh.

clapton's phone buzzes and his heart sinks. that's it. it's over.

riley gasps. "now, question mark, question mark." clapton thinks you sound annoyed, while riley insists your quick response is a good sign.

"only... if... you're... not... busy," riley reads as she types. "we... can... meet... some- oh."

"what? riley, what?" clapton scoots closer, desperate to see what text from you had managed to shut her up.

but riley's smiling, flashing the small to screen to clapton. to his surprise, before clapton (riley) could even offer a location, you had sent clapton your address.

"clapton davis," riley grins. "you've got one more chance."

you know clapton lives nearby, details of some old conversation fuzzy in your brain. as soon as you text clapton your address (a very brave move, you must admit), you're in the mirror, trying to fix yourself up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

it seems like there's a knock at your door in a time so short it couldn't possibly be clapton.

you're wrong, of course.

with a knack for proving you wrong, clapton davis stands on your doorstep, temporarily shielded by the small roof above your door from the rain that still falls. he's thoroughly soaked, his dark shirt sticking to his body, his jeans a darker color than they originally were. his hair sticks to his forehead in thick strands. there's still a few drops of water running down the bridge of this nose, down his arms, off the ends of his hair and sticking to his thin eyelashes. he's looking at you with wide eyes and his mouth slightly agape, as if he can't really believe he's here.

a drop of water makes it into his eye and clapton blinks quickly, rubbing his eyes and shaking off his hair.

"oh, my god, clapton," you exclaim, putting your hands on his shoulders, feeling the cold, wet fabric of his shirt. you keep the door open with your foot, try to lead clapton inside, but he shakes his head, rooted firmly to his spot.

"i'm gonna get your floor wet," clapton says.

you look at him exasperatedly but you can tell he's being serious. it's becoming unsettling, now, how often you've seen the boy you thought was all jokes and easy smiles turn sincere, even innocent with you.

perhaps you didn't know clapton as well as you thought you did, either.

"just hang on, okay?" your words are soft, but you don't wait around to see how clapton responds to that as you turn back inside. you wonder, as you move to the bathroom to get a fresh towel, if clapton will still be there by the time you open the front door again, or if he'd have come to his senses and made a mad dash home.

but clapton davis has waited for you, believed that you would not leave him outside in the rain.

clapton sees the towel in your hands and reaches for it but it's pulled away just as his fingers graze the material. he watches you come closer, letting the door shut slowly behind you, finding that he is unable to move as you drape the towel around his shoulders, press it against his arms to try and absorb all the extra water dripping down his limbs.

clapton wasn't sure what he was expecting. maybe more yelling? definitely annoyance. certainly not this softness.

clapton knew you liked him (though it'd taken you saying it straight to his face for him to catch on), but he'd only partially believed riley when she told him he had another chance. even as he ran to your house, even as you opened the door to see him, clapton had fully believed his jealousy had pushed you away completely.

but now, as clapton kicked off his wet shoes and did his best not to track any water into your home, clapton was starting to think that maybe he did still have a chance.

clapton sits on your bed, in a change of clothes you had scrounged your house for. you'd insisted on clapton changing into something warm and dry, refusing to get blamed if clapton got sick (as if he'd ever blame you). his roughly towel-dried hair is still a little damp and he's completely silent for what he thinks is the first time in his entire life, trying to gather his thoughts.

he feels uncomfortable, out of place. he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be sitting on your bed like it was an everyday thing. he's especially fidgety under your stare - it's not angry, clapton's sure, but it's expectant, which is worse. after all, clapton is the one who put in so much effort to be here. so, now that he's here, why can't he manage to say anything?

you've caught on to clapton's quiet dilemma and you take pity on him, sighing as you uncross your arms and move to take a seat next to him.

"sorry i got so mad at you," you say finally and you mean it. you knew some of it was misdirected, that you'd taken out annoyance at the general population of grizzly lake high on clapton davis. but you look over to see clapton shake his head, scoffing lightly.

"no, no, you shouldn't be," clapton insists. "i'm sorry. i didn't... i don't think you're some popularity-obsessed person. i just let... someone convince me that any of that mattered."

"who?" you ask a little playfully, curiously.

"sander," clapton says, rolling his eyes a little as he finally brings himself to look at you.

that makes you laugh. "sander? of all people?"

clapton laughs lightly, looking back down at his lap. "i know. stupid, huh?"

your voice softens. "completely. as stupid as thinking i would ever date billy nolan."

clapton laughs, scoffs again. "okay, yeah, that was also pretty stupid."

"but i don't think you're a stupid guy, clapton. i think you do stupid things, but i also think you're sweet. i think you're smart when you want to be, about the things you really like. you have a way of getting along with anyone and your music taste is so weird but i like it-"

"hey!" clapton exclaims, eyes on you again. but he's smiling now, not one of his signature smiles, but a i-can't-help-it smile, one that stretches wide and hurts his cheeks a little. "you know, i think i should be the one doing this."

"well, i'm not stopping you."

clapton takes a breath. "okay, well... you're stunning, obviously. but you're also so nice. you laugh at all my jokes, so you clearly have a great sense of humor. you're smart, and you have this way of this way of talking that just... is captivating."

"clapton davis, are you trying to tell me you like me?" you grin playfully.

"oh, duh. i think half the school is in love with you."

you're laughing again, one of those bright ones clapton loves, bumping clapton's shoulder gently.

"i'm sorry i was a douche. seriously, i shouldn't have believed a rumor and i shouldn't have assumed you'd like billy just because he's on the football team," clapton shakes his head.

"yeah, football players aren't really my type," you agree with a nod. "i prefer class clowns."

clapton smiles, tries not to blush, as he notices your hand in the space between the two of you, slowly inching closer. he really has no choice but to finally make a move.

he slides his hand in yours first, waiting until you clasp your fingers around his before turning his body towards you. his free hand cups your face, glancing from your eyes to your lips and back.

"please let me kiss you."

you lick your lips and nod, breathing out a quiet yes and clapton slowly places his lips on yours, thinking your lips fit perfectly together as he tilts your chin, moving his head ever-so-slightly for the perfect angle. you lean back but clapton won't let you go so easily, pulling you in for another soft kiss, and another. he can't get enough of the feeling of your lips, missing the soft pressure every time you pull away.

clapton kisses you until his lips feel weird and you're laughing too much to kiss him back properly, hands somehow in his damp hair.

"go on a date with me? please?" clapton says a little desperately, only a few inches of space between the two of you as you try to catch your breath.

"i guess you've convinced me," you respond and clapton can't help but kiss you again, deeper this time. no longer savoring the taste of your lips but hungering for the feeling of them against his.

he breaks from you only when he can barely breathe, panting softly but refusing to separate himself from you completely, his hands on your back and your hip. he's looking at you carefully, not wanting to forget what you look like after you'd let him kiss you over and over.

"still don't think we fit together?" you mumble teasingly, hand on the back of clapton's neck keeping him close.

"oh, shut up," clapton groans, though most of it gets muffled by you.

requests are open! | masterlist

#clapton davis x reader #clapton davis x you #josh hutcherson x reader #clapton davis #josh hutcherson #detention 2011 #v + clapton #v writes

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rainba · 13 days

Note

I'm literally in love with your OCS and I'm honestly a whore for lore sooo can you tell us a bit more bout their past? Or maybe just little snippets of their present day life! I'm so curious about them (*˘︶˘*).｡.:*♡

-🗝 anon

Help… I get so nervous about posting lore for my OCs because my brain’s first reaction is, “who cares?” 😭 Except……. I care…… And I’m really glad you asked! ( ´ ꒳ ` )

I’ll try not to say too much.... Even if it's tempting to ramble.......

Luka has always been more closed off and unemotional– he's been like that since birth. When he was little, he was often bullied by his peers, being called weird and even a bit creepy. His expressions were always unreadable, his eyes devoid of life.

In an attempt to stop being picked on, Luka would constantly practice facial expressions in the mirror late at night. He often wondered if he was broken.

As he grew older, the bullying only grew worse– and it only ever stopped when he finally stood up for himself and fought back, nearly killing another kid. It happened when he was around twelve years old.

Honestly, sending another person to the hospital actually boosted his reputation more than anything. Instead of being just some slightly off-putting, emotionless guy, he became somewhat 'cool.' He was rewarded for his actions.

People suddenly started talking to him; they wanted to know more about him. Luka took it as his chance to finally "fit into society." He participated in sports, learned how to communicate with people, and worked towards mastering the art of manipulation. ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

However... Luka has only ever had one person in his life that he’d truly call a “friend.” (¯▿¯)

As for Kairos… He was often nothing more than a shadow. Constantly ignored, always left behind, never spoken to. Kairos often made friends with little bugs that he’d find, and he’d keep his mind occupied by drawing hundreds of little pictures in his notebooks.

Every time he tried to talk to someone, they’d just call him a freak, giving him weird looks before walking away. After a while, he just stopped trying all together, fighting really hard to be content with living a lonely life.

Kairos felt like a shadow even in the comfort of his own home. His parents never acknowledged him- the most he could ever get from them is a glance or a few words. That's it. It'd be rare if he ever got to see them at all. They would often either be at work or going out to places without him. (｡•́︿•̀｡)

Kairos has spent most of his life wondering why he was ever born.

#ask #kairos posting #luka posting #:3 #i tried not to ramble but I rambled anyways....#my apologies........

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purerae · 7 months

Note

Hii! I love your work!! Could you do a halloween party imagine with any of your characters? or all of them meeting our poor y/n, it'd make a cool crossover

Free form however you like!!!

╭────༺♡༻────╮

YANDERE!HAREM X FEM READER

HALLOWEEN PARTY // AU IMAGINE.

warnings ;; mostly crack, yandere behaviour, male yandere(s), female yandere, mentions of drinking, demon summoning (silas), mentions of blackmail (none to Y/N), alternate universe, not canon to anyone's plot.

a/n ;; Hi Anon! I know halloween is over but this is such a good idea i couldn’t miss out on it!! By the way, in each one of the yandere stories, Y/N has a slightly different personality. So I wasn't sure whether you wanted me to do multiple Y/N’s or just one. So I decided to combine the personalities into one. Good luck<3 (please let me know if there are any mistakes.)

CLICK HERE FOR MY MASTERLIST (intro to all the yanderes)

╰────༺♡༻────╯

Hopeless. You felt hopeless as your left arm was dragged around like a piece of meat by the girl no one swore to mess with

“Come on babe~! Wear the angel wings, we have to be matching!” Reina grits her teeth as she attempts to place the wings onto your unwilling back. The fire headed girl gives up with a scoff in her throat before walking over to your mirror and reapplying her dark red lipstick, adjusting the horns that perfectly matched with her crimson wavy hair.

How did she even get into Y/Ns house in the first place?

You remember pretty clearly. Today is the 31st of October. You were well aware that it was halloween and perfectly content with staying inside your humble abode. You’d buy a bunch of bulk cheap candy and scarf it down whilst watching some classic horror movies. Not enough to scare you, but to make you physically cringe.

That was the plan, Perfect right? There would be nothing to stop you from having a peaceful night of binge watching shitty films.

Apart from the three vastly different individuals who were all pining over you. Though they were complete opposites, they all had a way grinding your gears and irritating you to no end.

Reina, the delinquent who made your life as the school president 10x worse. She’d constantly hang around you during lunch and break, surrounded by her delinquent friends who’d make jokes you wouldn’t get but would laugh in fear of getting made fun of. Not to mention the lessons you’d have to miss in order to supervise her during the detentions she had purposely got. You think you spend more time with her then you spend eating the gross lunch your school provides.

Kieran, the playboy who suddenly switched up his entire role once he realised you weren’t interested in him like the others were. God, if only you pretended like you were. Maybe that would’ve stopped him from bothering you in all your science classes with his weird sexual jokes or flirty overbearing personality. Yeah he was a bit funny and maybe he sometimes made your day with his stupid jokes but that came crashing down once he would say his tenth pick up line to you all in one lesson.

And then there’s Alex, the jock who’s the captain of the football team, a tad bit stupid but still had the personality of the literal sun, which made him the most tolerable but still pretty overwhelming for your average dream life. He was the last one to pop up in your weird harem, he stuck around you like a lost puppy once he realised you didn’t like his team. “I’ll make sure you like me, no matter what!” — were his exact words.

These individuals had a very high reputation in school, most people liked them and often idolised them. So, why were they all vying for your attention? People would go to great lengths to be in your shoes, yet all you desired was to lead an ordinary student's life.

Your internal monologue was abruptly interrupted by the ringing of your phone, and you didn't even have a moment to guess who might be calling before the sound reached your ears (You would've had two guesses). -- In response, Reina let out an exasperated groan and struts over to you.

She confidently picks up your phone and shuts it off before snapping her fingers in your face.

“How have you still not put the wings on.. god what would you do without me!” If you didn’t know any better, from the tone of her voice you’d think she was annoyed. But in reality you noticed the glint in her eyes. She was genuinely pleased that she had gotten to help you. Happy that you had to ‘rely’ on her.

“Probably live a peaceful life” You murmur under your breath, not realising the close proximity of you two until she snaps her sharp eyes to your tired gaze.

"Excuse me?" The green-eyed girl arched her eyebrows, her lips forming a grimace of annoyance.

“I said I would probably live a very sad life.” You quickly defer, letting out a sigh of relief once she relaxes her eyebrows and shows you a soft smirk.

Reina grabs her bag and sprays perfume onto her body, walking over to your bedroom door before abruptly stopping, throwing her arms up. “Come on then! We can't be too fashionably late~” You curse whoever invented halloween parties, and trail behind her.

Just ten minutes into the party, and you were already contemplating grabbing that cowboy-clad stranger’s prop gun and pretending to shoot yourself with it. Music boomed against your ears, drawing out any coherent thought as the smoke from Reinas cigarette mingles in the air. It was as if your personal space ceased to exist, with the red haired girl's body pressing against yours, her presence enveloping you. The sensation became overwhelming, the close proximity sent shivers down your spine. You had no ability to escape, seeing as the delinquent had her friends form a tight circle around you both, acting as protective guards you didn't need or want. There was no room to escape for you, too intimidated to say a word.

“Hey Y/N!! Is that you?!” A loud voice shouted amidst the music, crowd and smoke. Reinas whole friend group snaps towards the noise, seeing who dared to interrupt the leader with her ‘beloved’. Despite Alex being faced with gnarly stares, all he could see was his cutie dressed like an angel. He settles his drink down on a nearby table, exchanges hurried farewells with his football teammates, and rushes his way towards you.

The tall friendly giant had no struggles breaking the circle you were trapped in. It was like the sun beaming past a bunch of angsty rain clouds, two things you usually dreaded. But in that moment, you found yourself silently praising the towering, 6 '6 human puppy as he enveloped you in a massive bear hug.

As he released you, his strong arms remained on your shoulders, and he beamed at you with eyes that formed crescent moon shapes.

He stuttered an apology for the sudden physical contact before staring at you up and down with his doe like eyes and a massive grin. “Wow…you look stunning, like a true angel. You’re my angel!” He giggles proudly because of the cheesy line he made. The jock completely disregards his earlier apology as he wraps you in another tight hug. You murmur a ‘thanks’ and lightly tap his back in return, your lips thinning with a hint of awkwardness as you look around and notice Reina's friend group staring at the two of you as though you'd just committed a crime. Alex's firm grip gradually loosens as he comes to a realisation, and he reluctantly lets you go, you notice his boyish grin turned into a pout. “I invited you to this party, I bought a whole matching outfit and everything! You told me you couldn't come!” The brown eyed male whines , his brows furrowing as his beady eyes bore into your soul. During this moment, you couldn't help scrutinise his Halloween costume.

‘Did he seriously just throw on his jersey with some fake blood around his neck..’ you pondered silently, shooting him a disapproving stare due to the minimal effort he had put into his outfit

Your initial expression of curiosity transformed into one of slight disgust when you realised that the intended matching costume was going to be ‘the jock and his cheerleader’

‘How original’ You thought sarcastically.

For the second time this night, your thoughts were interrupted, but this time it wasn't a ringing phone. It was Alex’s voice, laced with sadness whining in your ear. He pouts as he gazes down at you, gently poking your halo headband, waiting for your response.

“Basically what happ-”

Before you could even begin to explain that you had no intention of attending the party, regardless of who insisted, not until the delinquent showed up at your doorstep and mildly threatened you, your words were cut short. The moment was disrupted as she forcibly pushed the sulky jock away from you.

Despite her noticeable lack of height compared to the towering jock, Reinas attitude definitely made up for it.

‘Speak of the devil..metaphorically and quite literally.’ You snort at your own joke, before quickly composing yourself and directing your attention to the scene unfolding in front of you.

Alex and Reina, two people who couldn't be any more different but they were both madly in love with you. In school, you had always managed to avoid confrontations involving the both of them, but it appeared luck wasn't on your side tonight.

“Who do you think you are, barging into this conversation where no one invited you? Don't you have dumb shit to attend to? Like shotgunning a dozen beers?” the delinquent spoke with a withering glare, she grabbed your arm and forcefully pulled you away from him. The crowded party left little room to manoeuvre, so she practically made you turn your back on him to ensure you were separated.

Unfortunately for her, that allowed the charismatic loveable jock to shed his facade, and shoot her an uncharacteristically intense gaze. His eyes grew dark and his typically cheerful face contorted into a look of hatred and envy Though it only lasted for a second, anyone who would’ve seen it, the memory would linger in their thoughts for days.

Reina, being unlike anyone else, didn't perceive his gaze as a threat, but rather as a golden retriever attempting to imitate a wolf. She scoffed and protectively grabbed your hand.

"I'm pretty sure forcing Y/N to be surrounded by your..." The jock paused, glancing at each of Reina's friends, carefully choosing not to insult them, not out of fear, but out of respect with his beloved watching. ".. interesting group of friends might not be comfortable for her. Anyways, don't you guys have more fun plans, like commit vandalism?" He delivered with a cheerful tone, tilting his head to the side in a display of ‘adorable’ confusion.

While the male may come across as unintelligent there are some quirks to his character that reveal a different perspective. He possesses a unique knack for framing his words and expressing himself in a manner that radiates positivity.

‘He’s so stupid and oblivious , he doesn’t mean what he says!! He's just asking a question, he means no harm!’ — is what most people think.

But Reina, being a delinquent who often deals with various groups of people, can read him like a book. She knows he’s showing less than what he truly is. What he can truly become. And although she doesn’t give a shit about how he acts around others, she knows he’s interested in her Y/N — and that’s why he needs to stay away from her girl at all costs.

With Reinas anger level rising, she lets out an annoyed grunt before softly pushing you back, The delinquent puts one finger on the jocks chest.

You think for a second that you should probably step in, Not because you want to but because you have no idea who will win. Reina most definitely has a weapon in her bag somewhere and also her group of friends who would kill to protect her surround you three but Alex’s strength and height can cover that. Though from what you know the delinquent is a lot more aggressive than the ‘pacifist’ himbo so he may have a bit of a disadvantage.

Nonetheless, you decide not to intervene and just watch the two idiots fight it out. It's not your issue right? You didn't need any more attention than you already had coming to this party tonight.

As they both stare at each other, Reina opens her mouth to speak but gets cut off by someone tapping her back. One of her friends grabs her arm and she turns a whole 180 degrees, ready to scream at whoever is trying to hold her back. Her eyes are narrowed as she pushes the said friend away from her. “What the fuck is your issue, Thomas?!” You now learned who the guy's name was, Thomas. He was dressed as a pirate and barely flinched when Reina screamed at her. He must've been used to it. All he does is show her phone, and mutters “Look at who's calling you.” Reina’s angry expression turns into one of disbelief as she roughly grabs the phone away from his hands. She looks at Alex one last time with a scoff before she excused herself for a moment and engaged in a heated argument with the caller. You couldn't help but overhear snippets of their exchange — it was clear that Reina was being pressured to leave the party. She hung up, her face etched with reluctance, and then turned to you.

"Babe, I've got to go, I'll still be at the party. " she said, her tone uncharacteristically serious. "Just promise me you'll head home soon, okay?" Your face drops into a frown, though you didn't particularly like the aggressive delinquent, she was one of the only people you knew at this party.. Well except for the man who's staring at you with love struck eyes as of right now. Before you could say anything, Reina left your side, with the group of delinquents who followed. She didn't forget to barge into Alex as she was leaving, though it didn't really affect him — he was too focused on the fact that he was alone with you right now.

The overexcited jock happily grabs your arm and drags you around the whole house of the party, Although he was meant to be giving you a supposed ‘tour’; you noticed he was just staring deeply at your face whilst speaking. You came to the conclusion that he didn't really know what he was doing, he just wanted to impress you.

Amid the swirling costumes and pulsating music, You felt as if you were caught in a whirlwind. Every step you took was accompanied by Alex, who remained steadfastly close. The bulky man stayed close, like an overprotective guard dog, as you both navigated the crowd. Y/N couldn't help but feel suffocated by his constant presence. You desperately needed a moment of peace, a brief escape from his watchful eyes. You decide to ask him for a favour, of course he’d help you.

You finally mustered the courage to speak up, tugging at the edge of Alex's costume and turning to him with a gentle but tired smile. "Hey, Alex, do you mind getting me a drink? I could really use a break."

The jock beamed at you, happy that you trusted him enough to do something for you. ‘That must mean you like him right?! That's how it works!!’

"Of course, Y/N," he replied, his voice warm and reassuring. "I'll be right back with your drink. Just stay right here, okay?"

You nodded gratefully, allowing yourself a sigh of relief as Alex disappeared into the crowd, determined to fulfil your request. The distance that had separated them, albeit briefly, was a welcome change, and you could breathe a little easier.

Although he told you to stay where you were, you began to wander around and observe the revelry around you. People in all manner of costumes danced, drank, and got a little too comfortable with each other.

You let out a yelp as you open a door to a couple grinding on each other. Murmuring a dozen apologies, you leave the room flustered.

As you lose yourself in your thoughts and in the house, you notice a familiar white haired male approaching you, with a wide cheshire grin, Kieran; the host of the party.

The playboy moved through the crowd with an air of confidence and intrigue. He was dressed up as… a prisoner with handcuffs. Or as he’d probably say ‘a sexy prisoner.’ ‘Please don't come here, please don't come here, please don't come here.’ Is the phrase that repeatedly pops up in your head as you try to look at anything but him.

“Boo!” The playboy whispers in your ears as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. He then turns you around and ignores the pout on your face, Inspecting your outfit whilst biting his lips.

“Are you done eye-fucking me?” you sneered, crossing your arms as you tried to move slightly away from the playful male. "Oh man, you would've looked prettier as a princess~" he purred, his voice carrying a flirtatious undertone, his words accompanied by a roguish grin. You were clearly no stranger to Kieran's personality and annoying nickname for you. You roll your eyes and retort "Well I'd rather not deal with the whole 'damsel in distress' shit tonight," a hint of sarcasm laced in your response.

Kieran laughed, unbothered by your resistance. "Ooh but I'd have so much fun saving you princess~!” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "But what made you change your mind coming to my party? I rang your phone like two hours ago and you didn't pick up.” He questions with a raised eyebrow, his sly smirk still displayed on his face before he laughs.

“Missed my face that much huh? Should’ just said! Would've came running to you.”

You couldn't be bothered to talk about how you were forced to come to this stupid party, and also not wanting to mention Reina because for some reason they both had some weird dislikement towards each other. “Just had a change of heart.” You say before turning around and attempting to walk away from Kieran, but again luck wasn't on your side as he grabs your arm and tuts. The dimly lit room with the midst of the crowd, made you focus on the playful man's eyes and you noticed a shine in his eyes whilst staring at you. Before you could tell him to let you go,he whispers closely to you, so close that you could faintly smell the alcohol and mint laced in his breath. “Hey this is my party y’know? Let me show you a more secluded area, perfect for an introvert like you~” He teases as he drags your arm downstairs, and into one of the rooms which he had to twist to unlock. You silently cuss the playboy as you notice his entire group of so-called friends in the room. LED lights which displayed red, multiple couples in the room doing God knows what.

As you both walk further into the room, Kieran, too busy dabbing up people who you never once saw in your life, You notice a pile of unlabeled drugs and drinks on the table that was in the centre of the room. Quickly looking away, you squint your eyes as you try to notice anyone that you’re familiar with. In the corner of the room, there's a girl wearing a red corset with red horns, matching yours. You notice her angry expression as she converses with the two people around her. It was Reina. She notices your gaze and her face slightly softens, As she approaches you, she notices your arm being held by Kieran. Her face returns to the expression of which you first saw in the room. The white haired male doesn't notice the vexed delinquent yet, and he stares at your face in confusion as he notices you watching something, following your line of view he finally sees the girl wearing the devil costume. “Oh hey! Didn't know I invited you to my party?” He says playfully, but you notice the snark in his voice. Reina seems to notice it too as her face contorts into one of jealousy. “You guys know each other?” She questions, her question directed towards mostly you. Your hands begin to sweat as you attempt to stutter out an excuse, but for the second time this night, the living sun in human form interrupts your conversation by walking into the room, except this time he didn't have a happy expression, it was evident that he was sulking.

Your eyes drift to his hands, noticing the drink in his hands that you had specifically asked for. ‘Shit..’ you think to yourself and for the first time you felt bad for the jock. You didn't mean to leave him for that long! It was more of Kierans fault for dragging you away. “I have your drink Y/N…” He says with wide eyes and pursed lips, clearly upset that you had just left him. With an apologetic gaze, you gently take the drink away from his grasp with a thank you, as you look away with a little guilt. “Oh my god, not this freak here again!” Reina scorns,disdain in her face as she stares at both Alex and Kieran, they stare back with disgust. The entire school year, these three constantly hung around you and you still managed to never make them interact whilst you were there, in fear of any of these bold characters causing a scene. But of course, the one day where you especially didn't want to see any of them, they all surround you possessively with jealousy tangled in their eyes. Could this night get any worse? -

It most definitely can. You managed to calm them down and now you're all sat in a circle, with random people you don't know. Kieran sat down next to you on the right, while Alex occupied the seat on the left, and Reina sat across from you, clearly not happy with the seating arrangements.

Whilst the room was filled with chatter, one of Kieran's friends mentioned a board game that you've never heard about that supposedly had the power to ‘summon demons.’

The suggestion hung in the air, Kieran laughed at the idea and laughed harder as he noticed the uncomfortable look in your face.

“Don't worry babe, i'll protect you~” He whispers in your ear, Reina notices you two conversing but can't hear what he told you, Her already green eyes appear even greener as she looks away enviously. The idea was met with hesitance, but with Kieran's playful persuasion, everyone reluctantly agreed to try it.

As the game commenced, Alex clutched onto your arm, his protectiveness reaching new heights. The friendly giants sends you a look of comfort. Reina, on the other hand, grew increasingly annoyed and impatient, wanting to leave this messed up party. Still, she begrudgingly stayed, unwilling to abandon her beloved in this situation.

The group followed the game's instructions, and to their shock, the room filled with an eerie energy. The lights began to flicker and in an instant it turned off, most of the room ran away screaming, not caring about the party anymore. Others began to laugh with interest and waited for what was going to happen next. a sinister figure formed in the centre of their makeshift circle. You freeze as you notice the demon (?), he is fucking terrifying but inspecting him closer the extremely tall thing is quite.. handsome?

A malevolent demon with smouldering eyes and a sinister grin, stood before everyone. Panic coursed through the room, and everyone, including yourself , scrambled to flee. As you attempted to escape, the demon swiftly locked the door, trapping you inside with Alex, Reina, and Kieran.

With a devilish chuckle, The demon introduced himself as Silas. The red faced man turned his attention to you. He took your chin in his hand, his touch chilling to the bone. His nails dug sharply into your skin. "You're prettier than the angels we have where I'm from" he hissed, his voice dripping with lust.

Your heart raced with fear and arousal as you looked into Silas's eyes, a shiver running down your spine. Alex and Reina attempted to interject, their voices laced with fear and anger, but Silas silenced them with a mere flick of his fingers, flooding their minds with endorphins that dulled their resistance. Kieran seemed to be less affected by whatever poison Silas had put out as he grabs Y/Ns arm towards his chest. “I don't know what the hell you are but she's mine, get in line” Kieran jokes, not scared of the situation at all. You send him the dirtiest look possible as Silas laughs mockingly at the playboys statement.

As the night wore on, and the party raged outside, Y/N, Alex, Reina, and Kieran were trapped with this demon who had an interest in you for some strange reason. Well, everyone in this room has some abnormal interest in you and it seems that you're quite literally trapped in a room with people who would do anything for you. Even if that means fighting a demon.

Desperation welled up in your body as you realised the dire situation that you were stuck in. "How am I supposed to leave now?" you whisper to yourself, noticing 4 gazes staring at you with different expressions but they all contained one thing, Lust.

Did Silas forget to mention that he was a succubus?

purerae<3

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS HEAVILY APPRECIATED.

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