#i'll just do 'Ten!' with '(The sky!)' under it

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

James (Paul McCartney x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hello! I've decided I have to make a chapter fic for Paulie because I'm in love with him. There are gonna be at LEAST 6 chapters in this fic, so there will be plenty more coming! Stick around, like and comment, and let me know if you want to be tagged when I release more chapters of this!

I want to personally thank my editor @strawb3rri-le for helping me make these ideas come into fruition. Literally cannot do this without you <3

Summary: Paul meets a pretty girl in the library one day, and is elated to find out she is oblivious to who he actually is.

This fic is written in third person from Paul's perspective, which is kind of different to how I normally write my x readers, so it might be a little jarring to read at first, but I just wanted to try something a little different :)

WARNINGS: I'm not certain I wrote any curse words in this one, but I'll say there is just to be on the safer side. Mentions of mushrooms/ fungi; not drug-related, but I figured I'd add that because some people don't like them. I use Y/n like 4 times in here around the end it drives me nuts, but it has to happen. I don't think there's much else.

This one is pretty safe, if I could rate it lower I would, but I'll mark it at T just to be on the safe side.

Paul could have watched the heavy raindrops hit the window pane for hours and hours. the grey clouds drifting in the sky above brought nothing but heavy showers to the streets of London that dark afternoon...

But that's not what he came to the library for.

He came here for some peace and quiet.

He wanted to get some more songwriting done, but the apartment didn't seem to be the place for it that day, and everywhere else just appeared to be crawling with girls. As much as Paul liked girls, he didn't want to be noticed, because then his day would have simply consisted of him trying to escape the hoards that would have started chasing after him.

The library felt like it made the most sense. People were there to read, study, keep to themselves; not to socialize with others and be loud. As long as he found a little private area to sit, he knew he wouldn't be bothered at all. He also figured, if he couldn't come up with any song ideas, he had tens of thousands of books to refer to for inspiration.

And that was the situation Paul was in at that moment. He'd been sitting in his little study nook for a while now, just staring blankly at his notebook, or out the window next to him. Usually the words came flowing from his mind, translated by his hand and onto the paper, yet that particular day, nothing seemed to be inspiring him.

He rose to his feet after a while, notebook shoved under his arm as he wandered off into one of the aisles nearest to him. He wasn't looking for any book in particular. Sometimes he'd just pull one off the shelf, flip to a random page, and read a random sentence in the middle of the text. If it seemed to be interesting enough to inspire even a single line in a song, Paul would use it. If not, off to the next book.

He began to do just that, with older books with worn spines, and newer books with colourful covers. Unfortunately, even after the fourth or fifth book he pulled from the aisle he was in, no inspiration seemed to manifest from what he was reading. He sighed as he pushed the book he was holding back into its place on the shelf before he made his way to the next aisle over.

Paul began repeating what he was doing before, reaching for a book, and flipping through the pages. This particular book, he cut three separate times, and not one sentence seemed to draw any kind of innovation for his songwriting.

Once again, Paul shoved the book back onto the shelf. As he stared ahead at all of the different pieces of literature before him, one book in particular seemed to catch his eye. It was green, with gold accents on the bevelling as well as the raised parts of the spine. Without a second thought, he reached up for it, only for his fingers to come into contact with someone else's.

Paul drew his hand back and glanced to his right, where a young woman about his age stood. He held his breath, fully expecting an overreaction from her at his presence.

Instead, she smiled awkwardly at him, her hand also drawn back close to her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were after that one," she explained gently, and Paul blinked, raising a confused eyebrow before looking back to that specific book. After a moment, he pulled it down off the shelf and examined the cover, the golden text embossed into the front cover reading 'Europe's Most Common Mushrooms, and Fungi: A Field Guide'.

"Do you like learning about Mycology as well?" She asked curiously, and Paul's gaze shot up to her face, eyes squinting a little at her question.

He was half confused on what she was honestly asking him, but he was also kind of surprised she wasn't pointing and shouting at the fact that she found a Beatle in public.

"... Mycology?" He asked back sheepishly, and her awkward smile warmed up a little at his question. She pointed at the book cover before responding with another question. "You know, the study of mushrooms, and fungi?"

Paul's eyes dropped back down to the book before cracking it open and flipping to a random page as he was doing with all the others. A beautifully illustrated picture of a mushroom with a porous underside presented itself to the young man, and his eyebrows furrowed at the image.

"That is a Boletus Edulis," she explained quietly to him. "It's a tasty gourmet mushroom found in Europe, as well as in North America."

Paul looked back up to her briefly before returning to the book and flipping to another page, a red capped mushroom with white spots being the next image to catch his eye.

"Ooh, and that one there is an Amanita Muscaria, also known as the Fly Agaric. It received its name back in the day because grinding it up and putting it in window sills and doorways would repel flies from entering your home."

"... You sure know your mushrooms, huh?" Paul asked carefully, rather impressed with the few bits of information provided to him by this stranger.

"It's definitely a good hobby to get into. Nothing beats going out onto the trail and foraging them for dinner." She paused briefly before adding, "I mean... the boletes are fine, but perhaps not the amanitas." 

Paul closed the book up again before taking a final glance at the front cover.

"I'm uh... sort of grabbing books at random, looking for something inspiring. There needn't be a reason to hang onto this if you need it," Paul explained, presenting it to her so she could take it, and her fingers accidentally brushed against his once again as she took it from him.

The graze was so gentle, yet Paul felt his cheeks warm up at the contact. She was awfully pretty, he decided to himself in silence as he watched the look of joy on her face appear when she flipped the book open herself. She stopped on a page containing a drawing of a white mushroom dripping black ink at its edges.

Paul couldn't help but double take the image. To think there was so much about the world he didn't know a thing about... it made him feel so small, and insignificant.

She must have noticed his gaze on the page, and figured she'd teach him about one more specimen. "These ones," she began, with a rather excited exhale, turning the book Paul's way so he could see, "are Shaggy Mane mushrooms. They are edible and good, as long as you haven't consumed alcohol for a few days prior to, and post consumption. Then they'd be quite toxic."

She smiled at the tidbit and looked up to Paul's face, nose crinkling a little. "Isn't that just the neatest thing?"

Paul couldn't believe what he was hearing. He never really thought about mushrooms before. Sure, he'd seen brown and white ones before in the grass, or growing on trees, but there was something about the way she relayed the information with such passion, that just made it so interesting to him. It was unlike anything he ever experienced before.

"... You have a very natural way of describing this sort of stuff," Paul expressed, nodding his head to her positively. "I honestly never realized there were so many different ones."

"Oh, what I've told you doesn't even scratch the surface of the world of Mycology," she explained, the smile only growing on her face, and Paul couldn't help but smile back at her.

"... I should really leave to let you continue on with what you were doing," she said after a moment. "I do appreciate you listening to my ramblings. I know I can sometimes get carried away with this sort of stuff," her smile fell away a little. "Not many really care about fungi, so it's nice to talk about my interests with someone who's willing to listen."

Paul's own smile began to falter, rather upset that such a pleasant conversation, with such a pleasant person, had to end so soon. He hadn't encountered such a normal discussion in so long. Not that a conversation about mushrooms and fungi was normal, but Paul felt it was just so refreshing talking about anything but him and his fame.

"... well, I rather enjoyed what you had to say," he admitted lightly, an undeniable blush flourishing from the woman's cheeks as she appeared to smile again, a little brighter than before.

"Well... thank you, again. You're very kind," she repeated, waving her hand kindly as she turned on her heel and wandered off to the next aisle.

Paul's eyes watched her round the corner, and he stood there in disbelief. There was so much for him to unpack in his thoughts in that very moment.

She had to have been one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen; minding her own business in a library by herself, and doing something she really enjoyed. Her intelligence on the subject showed through her excited rambling, which Paul could have listened to for much, much longer.

Her voice was so pleasant, happiness apparent in her words as she described every species effortlessly, as if she'd known it all since the day she was born. It left him wanting to hear more from her.

But the cherry on top of all of this, was that she didn't even acknowledge Paul as anything but another human being. Not some big musician with whom she obsessed over just because of his looks. For someone who remained so calm, and pleasant in conversation, Paul was certain she had no clue who he actually was.

And he loved that.

As much as fame brought excitement to his existence, Paul couldn't deny that the concept of a simple, normal life with someone who loved him for him, and not his popularity to the public, was something he seemed to yearn for more often as of late.

He loved the idea of being a nobody, especially to someone he wanted to be somebody to.

He looked over his shoulder to the empty space where that green and gold book once sat, deciding to reach for the one sitting next to it. It happened to be another book on mushrooms and fungi, but it had a lot more words in it than images. He flipped to the middle of the book and read the fist word he saw.

Symbiosis.

He felt dumb staring at the word. He knew there was only one person he could ask to inquire about what it meant. He glanced up through the bookshelves, eyes searching through the gaps of the works to find her.

She only happened to be in the next aisle over, scanning the book titles off the spines above her head carefully, too in her own world to notice Paul's obvious staring through the shelving units. She pulled a book down and read the summary on the back, Paul watching her eyelashes flit lower and lower as she absorbed the words like a sponge in water.

He noticed that as she read, her lips gently mouthed each word, and he soon found himself stuck in a trance. He observed how her tongue poked out between her teeth to mouth words with the letter L, and how her lips would press tightly together as she read words containing B, and M.

Who would have thought, Paul wondered, something so small could be so hypnotizing?

She made a small face of approval to the book before stacking it on top of the green one she was given by him, and she headed over to an empty table in the corner of the room. She faced towards the shelves, back to the wall so she could see the whole library from her spot.

Despite this, as soon as she made herself comfortable, she was solely focussed on the books, and her dominant hand wrote out her notes almost romantically, notebook pages filling effortlessly with information that brought her joy.

Paul was absolutely mesmerized by her movements. Screw the rain, he could have watched her for hours. He couldn't get over the little flick of her wrist when she ended a point, or the wonderful silent motion of her lips reading out the words.

She drove him mad in the best kind of way.

She flipped to the next page in her notebook, and Paul came back down to earth, realizing then just how creepy he must have appeared, standing close to the shelf, and peering through to the other side to watch the woman simply minding her own business from afar.

His shoes felt like they were filled with cement, but he worked up enough courage to slowly move towards her table, opting to stand by a nearby shelf and stare blankly at the spines as to not look so awkward.

What would I even say to her? was the only thought at the forefront of Paul's mind, the black mushroom book still in his hand, one of his fingers wedged between the pages to mark where that silly word was. He knew he was going to ask her about it, but he needed to smoothly segue into it, somehow.

This situation was rather a bother to Paul. He felt conflicted as to why he seemed so nervous about approaching her. He was a flirt, and he loved making girls feel giddy, why would this stranger be any different?

He was close enough that he could have called for her attention, but her focus was faithfully undivided, completely oblivious to Paul standing only fifteen feet away from her, trying to muster up the nerve to say something, anything.

After talking to her for only a minute and a half, and having parted ways for not even five more, Paul found himself deprived of her voice, longing to hear anything roll off her tongue, as long as it were to him. He was pining to have her attention so badly, but standing and admiring her from only a couple of steps away was only going to get him so far.

His palms were sweaty, and he wiped them on his pants haphazardly as he took a deep breath. He took one more second to nod his head positively for motivation, and he stepped out into the open, facing her completely. His heart pounded in his chest, but he pushed himself to take one more step forward. And that happened to be enough for her to notice.

The stranger raised her gaze up to Paul, the look of neutral concentration on her face softening into a pleasant smile.

Just that made Paul weak in the knees.

"Find anything inspiring yet?" She asked him in a friendly tone, eyeing the book in his hand as his thoughts flatlined. He didn't expect her to speak first. On the one hand, he was relieved that it indicated she was okay with talking to him, but on the other, it put him off-script, and now he had to actually use his brain to initiate discussion.

"I uh..." he struggled for a moment, glancing down at the book in his hand, as well.

"If I'm going to be quite honest... you talking about mushrooms so passionately was pretty inspiring. It's all I can think about."

The woman's eyebrows arched in surprise, a gentle dusting of pink spreading over her nose as she took in his words. She toyed her bottom lip between her teeth, and Paul couldn't help but drop his gaze for just a second to admire her mouth.

"You know, I'm really flattered that you said that," she expressed gently. "That means a great deal to me. Thank you."

Paul couldn't even feel his legs now, basking in her praise, as a flower would to the rays of sun on a warm spring day.

"... I couldn't help but grab another book like the one you're reading," he explained, lifting it up to show her, and the apples of her cheeks rounded as she smiled even wider. Paul hadn't ever recalled seeing such a beautiful face before.

"I... I saw a word I don't know. I think you're the only person who can help me." The confession made Paul feel a little self-conscious; he didn't want to seem entirely stupid in front of her, but she really didn't seem the type to make fun of him over something like this, and really damage his ego.

Without a word, she pulled the chair out next to her as a silent indication for Paul to take a seat, and he took the offer graciously. He set his notebook down onto the table, and then opened the book to where his finger marked the page cut. She leaned in a little to peer down at the text, and he pointed to the word, realizing only seconds after just how close she was to him. He could smell the faintness of her body wash, and it made his head swirl.

"... This one." He mumbled, watching her in his peripheral as she read the sentence in her head, and physically mouthing the words as her eyes tracked each letter.

"Ah, symbiosis. It basically means two different organisms are benefitting off each other in some way or another. We would be a good example of this, right now," she offered, tilting her head up to look at Paul, who's ears burned hot at the eye contact, but he kept strong and held it for as long as she wanted to look at him.

"You're keeping me pleasant company, and in return, I'm helping you learn about fungi." He thought her point was going to end there, but she quickly added on, "from a natural standpoint, fungi and trees have a symbiotic relationship. If it weren't for the millions of miles of fungal network underground, connecting all the living organisms together, plants wouldn't be able to communicate to each other, or convert their energy from one to the other to achieve optimal growth."

"So... everything would die without fungi?" Paul asked slowly.

"I believe so," she nodded her head. "They play a role in every step of a plant's life. Take a tree, for example."

She slid the green and gold book over to sit between them, and she flipped through the first few pages until she found a diagram of a tree's life cycle, pointing to the images as she rambled on.

"Fungi help them establish strong roots when they're young. Some fungi actually provide nutrients in the soil for the trees to use as energy to grow tall and strong."

She turned her gaze back to Paul. "Even at the end, if a mother tree is dying, she will begin to use the fungal networks below to disperse her energy to her kin, sacrificing herself so they can grow, instead. They use the networks underground to communicate in their own special way."

The young man appeared to be in a dream-like state, head in his palm as he looked on in favour of her words. But when he noticed she stopped speaking after a while, he blinked, finding she was smiling a little awkwardly again, as if she'd asked him a question.

"Hm?" He asked, propped hand dropping to the table. He felt rather guilty his attention diverted.

"... I'm boring you, aren't I?" There was a hint of sadness in her words, a weak smile at her lips, and Paul shook his head quickly.

"No, no! Believe me, I'm listening." He thought for a beat, face going warm again as he confessed, "I just... I really love the sound of your voice. You have a way with words, and I did get a little distracted by that." The young woman's face fell expressionless, and Paul continued.

"I may be rather daft on the subject, but there's just something in the way you talk about it that makes learning about it so much more enjoyable. Please, don't stop talking."

She opened her mouth to say something, but she shut it as she pondered what to respond to Paul with. Her face was flushed, and she was holding back a grin, which ultimately made Paul a little confident considering he was the one that made her flustered.

"... You probably say that to all of the girls you talk to," she finally replied, eyes casting down to the books to hide her blush, and he couldn't help but bite back a smile of his own.

"Well, none of the other girls I know are quite like you," he stated with poise, eyes still locked in on her, hands clasping together as he noticed her blush deepen, and a smile finally breaking through.

Paul then attempted to downplay such a strong interaction. Despite talking to her the way he wanted to, he didn't want her to be uncomfortable with how forward he felt he was being.

"What does your boyfriend think about your hobbies?" He asked. "He must be so proud, and fascinated by how passionate you are about all of this stuff, surely."

She looked back up to Paul, her smile weakening a little. "Boyfriend? Oh I uh..." she cleared her throat. "I don't... I don't have one of those."

Paul's eyebrows lowered a little. "... As in you just got out of a relationship?" He tried to clarify, to which she shook her head.

"As in I've never really... had one." She had a sheepish look on her face, cheeks now red out of embarrassment rather than flattery. Her response sent Paul's eyebrows shooting up in surprise, to say the least.

"... Never?" He repeated in disbelief. She pressed her lips together in a line tightly, shaking her head once again.

"This," she gestured to the books with her hand, "is my life. It has been my life since my early teenage years. Mushrooms and fungi are... strange, and because I like them, I guess that makes me kind of strange, as well."

Her self-dejecting statement made Paul feel bad. In his mind, someone like her not being taken, though washing the feeling of relief throughout him, didn't add up at all. Not even her fascination in mushrooms made her odd, in his eyes.

"... If it means anything to you, I think you're just absolutely lovely," he said, watching as her lip pressed into a little pout as she regarded his words.

"I'm telling you... every guy out there has no idea what they're missing out on."

Paul desperately wished he could read minds; especially hers. She didn't speak, and Paul assumed that the was simply trying to grasp for some words to say. If he were in her position, he wouldn't have known what to say, either.

"For once in my life, someone has actually made me speechless," she confessed, huffing a sigh as she rubbed one of her cheeks, as if that would have made her blush disappear.

"I want to tell you thank you, but that doesn't feel like nearly enough," she explained. "Honestly, your girlfriend is very lucky to have such a charming boyfriend. You have a way with words, yourself." Her comment made Paul laugh, but only once. Inside his chest, his heart was doing somersaults, but he was trying his hardest to keep his composure.

"What girlfriend?"

The woman gasped at his response. "You lie," she accused, yet Paul knew it was all in good nature by the smile on her face. "Even if you were, with a face like that, there's no way you don't have girls chasing after you all the time."

How the tables have turned, Paul thought; a little excited he found himself in the same spot as her only moments after he made the same mistake. Part of him wanted to respond to her with something witty, like "who says I don't?", but the other part of him didn't want that to arouse any questions that would segue into a conversation regarding his job.

He couldn't risk having her know everything, and fall for the idea of him.

"I guess I just... haven't found the right bird yet." He figured that was another truth he could hold by without entirely lying to this poor woman.

"That's fair. Well, whoever has the pleasure of ending up with you is a very lucky woman, indeed." Paul's cheeks darkened again, the compliment making his fingers feel a little numb. He noticed her eyes drifting to the window above his head before she suddenly closed her books shut.

"The rain's stopped. This has been a rather lovely conversation, but I do apologize. I must be leaving now."

Paul felt his stomach drop, and his mouth fell agape, watching worriedly as she gathered her belongings and rose to her feet.

"What-- you're leaving? Right now?"

He felt the same way he did back in the aisle when she cut the conversation short, full of disappointment that it all had to come to an end again.

"I was on my way to my parents' house before the rain started," she explained with a lopsided smile. "I'm helping my mother prepare for dinner tonight, but the rain was so bad, I figured I'd spend some time in here while I waited for it to die down. And I'm very glad I made that decision."

Paul nodded his head, realizing the last part of what she said alluded to making his acquaintance. He also found he couldn't be upset at such a wonderful gesture of kindness, her going to her parents'. "That is very sweet of you to do that for her," he said gently, standing up as well before she disappeared again.

"Before you go," he started, feeling hot beneath the collar as he tried to gather a little bit more courage to speak, her expecting eyes on him making him rather anxious.

"I would like to keep in contact with you," he paused briefly, "only if you want. I just... I've had a really pleasant time talking with you, and learning about your interests, and I would very much like to do all of this again."

Her cheeks rounded out again as her smile widened a little more-- Paul couldn't get over that damned smile of hers.

"You know... I would like that a lot," she finally answered, glancing down at her notebook before flipping to the last page and ripping it out. She folded it in half, and then tore it at the line, handing Paul one of the halves while she began writing on the other one. Paul watched with a pounding heart as she scratched out her phone number, and he began to do the same.

When they exchanged the papers, Paul examined the number she provided him, and then read the name she printed above it, a smiley face drawn next to it. he tried his best to concealing his excitement within.

"Y/n..." he mumbled thoughtfully, eyes casting back up to look at her. She laughed a little as she flipped the paper in her hand to show Paul, which only contained his phone number.

"That's me, but what am I to call you, exactly?"

This is where Paul found himself in another dilemma. He wanted her to call him Paul, but he also didn't want her putting two and two together if she recognized his name. He didn't want to entirely lie to her, either.

That's when a light bulb went off in his head. He realized the greatest loophole, and solution was staring him right in the face.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Paul reached for the paper again, scribbling his name at the top. But he wasn't using 'Paul'; he decided he was going to use his real first name.

"You can call me James," he explained, handing the paper back to her. She surveyed the name at the top of the paper before looking back up to him.

"Finally, a name to a face," she hummed in content. She then offered a hand out to Paul, to which he took so they could shake and say their farewells.

"It was an absolute pleasure meeting you, James."

It was the first time in a very long time Paul had been called that by anyone. He figured he would have hated the sound of it leaving her lips, but instead, it made his heart flutter. His face felt hot again, and it was apparent y/n could see the flush of his skin, because she smirked a little.

"The pleasure is all mine, Y/n. Please be safe." He finally let go of her hand, waving good bye as she did so as well, turning on her heel once again, and heading to the counter with her books to sign them out.

She slid Paul's phone number into her notebook as she walked away, and Paul just stood there for another moment as he watched her leave. He was was still feeling so many emotions now that he was alone, unable to help himself reaching back down to the piece of paper she gave him. He ran his fingers over her name and smiled a little to himself.

"Y/n..." her name was like a breath of fresh air to him. When he looked back up to catch one more glimpse of her, she was already gone. It made him feel a little empty, but when he noticed she left the black mushroom book for him, he felt just a little warmer inside.

Paul reached for the book, sliding her number into the pages, and deciding he was going to sign it out and try to learn a little on the subject. If they ever planned to meet in the future, he could try and impress her with some of the information he learned.

He didn't end up getting what he was looking for at the library, but he felt he was leaving with something he needed.

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A/A/N: Okay, I hope yous enjoyed that! Part 2 will happen as long as I have people requesting it. I have ideas, I'm just missing supporters<3

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#x reader #paul mccartney #the beatles #george harrison #john lennon #ringo starr #paul mccartney x reader #george harrison x reader #john lennon x reader #ringo starr x reader #fanfiction #the beatles x reader #beatles fic #beatles fanfiction

[cuprohastes]

Evolution? We don't need no Evolution!

Wherever Aliens gather to sit down, do the equivalent of a 1km stare and drink things that make you feel like being gently smacked with a slice of lemon wrapped around a gold brick, eventually the topic of Humans will come up.

"They're semi aquatic." one says. "I swear. We were on a beach and we had this human - You know, to carry stuff and do Human related Things. And they just went 'oh what a lovely day' and then they ... ran into the sea."

They pause and take a long drink.

"No exo suit. Just splash splash splash, and then they fell under the water."

The others nod or quiver in agreement. "Don't tell me" the Tsin says, their scales painted with that human Nail Polish. The shade called Pining of You looked especially good. "They ran back out holding something horrible and toothy, and immediately adopted it."

The first alien snorts. "No. Sort of. We thought they'd fallen into a sink hole. We had no idea! They were swimming! Like a Tsuga! Just looking at everything underwater and then popping up and going back down... you know... they jsut. They just stop breathing? Because breathing might be inconvenient so they... stop." they say.

Everyone pauses to think about this.

"I mean... how does that even work?" one slender, feathery being asks. "But they're not aquatic. You know how I know? Because I've seen them fly."

Another pause.

"Bullshit." someone says. "They don't have wings."

"No no... but they can make them. AND and and... I don't mean like ships. No! they make them out of fabric and sticks."

The Tsin looks into her drink and then sideways at the make who's been staring at her scales for the last ten minutes. He puffs up a little. "Mm. What as an art project?" she says.

The feathery being declines this supposition and responds, "No. They built them then they go up somewhere nice and high and they pick them up and take a big run - You ever see one running? Terrifying. And they... jsut..." the feathery being makes a sweeping gesture.

"Up into the sky. For hours. Then they come down and slide to a stop and put everything away and... How do you do that? How do you fly and then decide, oh I'll just go on with being a normal terrestrial animal, ho hum, nothing special."

The Tsin coyly blows a bubble at the preening male and shrugs.

"Mmmmy theory is they're bad at evolution." she says. "So they gave up and now they just turn into whatever they need to be for as long as they need it."

There's a certain amount of consideration at this and the Tsin puts her drink down and wiggles her fingers to everyone and leaves to investigate that tasty little male with the gorgeous blue markings.

The tall and frondy being quivers and splays it's fronds. "That's a horrible thought. Imagine if they decided to become plants?!"

"Ah well" says a very drunk Waallondernook, "Funny you should mention that..."

#Humans are Space Orcs #Humans are weird

[carolmunson]

almost fell into that hole in your life.

orange colored sky set list.

older!modern!eddie x thirties!reader summary: ficlet. you haven't been acting like yourself these days and eddie notices. unfortunately for you, eddie can't help but wanna make you feel better. tw: implied depressed reader, alcohol mention. implied praise kink if you squint really hard? still 18+ tho! songspiration: black balloon | the goo goo dolls

Eddie doesn't like it when things are too quiet, it makes him hear the static in his brain -- gets too aware. He can hear his eyes blink, the sound of his breath, so when you've been clammed up on the couch all night on your phone he can't help but start to make noise.

"Babe," he says from the kitchen, "Do you want me to make quesadillas or something? I have some shredded chicken I wanted to use up."

"Hm," you respond. He barely hears it, padding his way over in his 'house slides' that you like to tease him about. Such an old man.

"I was thinking quesadillas and I can make some margs, would you like that?" he asks, standing at the end of the couch. The way you're laying on your side, eyes glazed over, is enough to let him know that you haven't heard a word he's said for the last hour. Just scrolling with with a glassy look, numbing yourself ten times over.

"Peach," he says, albiet little sharply, "Are you listening to me?"

"Hmm, no way, that's wild," you respond, a zombie in his midst -- replying just to reply, to fake like you're hearing him. Eddie bites his tongue and then his cheeks to sting the frustration out.

"Hey," he says again, ringed hand reaching down to squeeze your chenille blanket covered thigh, "You hearin' me?"

You finally look up and see his face and the world around you comes into view. In your trance, the world outside had become night, the TV was off, you weren't even sure how much time had passed since you plopped yourself under Eddie's blanket on the sectional in his livingroom.

"Yeah," you squeak out, heart racing because you can tell he's disappointed, "Y-yeah I'm hearing you."

"Then what did I just say, huh?" he doesn't sound mad, or accusatory. Worse, he sounds disheartened. And even worse of worse, he sounds worried.

"Um...it was about um, you were asking about food," you try to answer confidently, and you know it was food adjacent, but you aren't sure.

"Do you want me to make quesadillas?" he asks again, "I have some chicken I wanna use up and I got all the stuff for 'em."

"Yeah," you nod, "Yeah that sounds nice."

"You wanna come help me?" he asks, "I can make us some drinks while we work."

"Uh," you start, that familiar pull tugging in your chest -- laying down feels good, getting lost back in your phone will feel better. It's so comfortable to hide under his chenille blanket and tune out. It feels better like that.

"Please?" You hesitate again, but you're not fast enough to redirect Eddie's attention, and it's then that he catches it in your eyes. The ache. He comes around the the front of the couch to sit in the divot of your thighs and chest, hand moving from your thigh to your shoulder. "What's goin' on?" his low voice twangs at your chest.

"Nothing," you urge, but your voice is too high and so are your eye brows. He doesn't believe you for a second.

"I don't like when you lie to me, peach," he confesses, "Don't lie to me, please."

"Psh, okay dad," you tease, trying to lighten the mood while you get up.

"I'm not kidding with you," Eddie's timbre keeps you in place, "I'm not playing around, babe. What's goin' on with you? You've been -- y'know -- you've been really I dunno -- inward this week. I'm missin' you."

"I'm okay," you urge again, but now you're too quiet. You don't mean it. He raises his brows and blinks at you in disbelief.

"I promise, I'm okay," you continue, "I'll be okay. It's fine. I'm fine."

"You're not making a great case for yourself." "Well then it's a good thing I'm not a lawyer," you joke again. He doesn't buy it.

"You're sad, baby," he tells you, reaching up to hold your cheek in his palm, "Why can't you just tell me? It's okay that you're sad."

"I'm not!" you try to say cheerily again, but the words get stuck in yout throat -- eyes stinging with wetness after hours of being open.

"I'm not sad," you say breathlessly, choking on the lie while a tear sneaks its way onto your lash line.

"Oh, sugar," he coos while you try to tread the water of your feelings -- flailing to keep your head above the pain in your chest.

"No, no, I'm okay -- I'm fine!" but you're starting to cry now and it kills him. Before you know it, he's made his way under the chenille blanket with you, nose to nose.

"Hey, hey, it's okay if you're not fine," he coaches you through your deep breaths while you try to guide yourself out of a full blown sob, "You can tell me. I'm here. I'm here, okay?"

"I'm sorry," your voice becoming a wraith of itself.

"Don't be sorry," he presses himself against you, enough so that you can feel the pressure of him and the pressure of the back of the couch on both sides, "Just talk to me."

"I don't..." you shrug, "I don't have anything to say."

"Just sad?" he asks, you feel an arm snake around you between your back and the the couch, pressing your chest to his. You nod, it feels pathetic, but you're cornered now and there's no use in arguing with someone who was born to win every argument he's ever had.

"Yeah," you mumble weakly, "Yeah, I'm sad. Think I'm more than sad."

He nods, his demeanor softening to something gentle -- heart reaching out to yours with caution like you'll run away, "Yeah, honey I can tell. You really haven't been actin' like yourself these days."

"I just don't wanna bother you," you confess, the brick coming off your chest, "I always get over it, I don't wanna like -- bum you out if it's not like...if it's not a big deal."

"I don't care if it's a big deal or a little deal," his heart bleeds for you while he speaks, "I don't care if you're gonna be over it in fiteen minutes. When you're hurtin' like this -- babe you gotta tell me. You gotta talk to me. Or else how're we gonna make this work?"

"It's just not important."

Eddie can tell that you mean it when you say it; he's never felt more frustrated with whoever convinced you that this was true.

"It's super important to me," he encourages, "Your shit is like, top of my list babe."

"Top of your list?" you crack a weak smile.

"You think the first person I think of when I wake up and the last person I think of when I go to sleep isn't on the top of my priority list?"

"Okay, well now you're doing to much, Ed," your face scrunches in the way that he loves, not letting you totally get out of his hold yet while you try to squirm away.

"Hey, look at me, before you get up," he cups your cheek again, gently, your eyes meeting his brown ones. Eddie leans in for a kiss, a soft reminder that he's not going anywhere anytime soon -- not that you'd want him to. Not with lips like that.

When you break away, his nose nuzzles yours, coasting up to press another gentle kiss on the center of your forehead. Long and intentional, warm enough to get you to close your eyes.

"It's gonna be okay," he assures, "It's okay if you're not, but -- I gotcha until you're feelin' better, hm?"

You nod, sniffling snottily and wiping your wet cheek.

"I am ordering us quesadillas," he whispers, stealing another kiss from you, "Because if you're going to rot on my couch, I'm gonna make you rot next to me."

"We're rotting!" you cheer half heartedly, pouting when he gets up to get his phone for take out. When he finishes, he holds his hand out and you sheepishly put your hand in his.

Eddie curls bounce when he shakes his head, "Peach, you know what I'm asking for."

"No," you frown, "I need it to rot."

"Peach...please?" it's more of a warning than a question, and you slide your phone into his hand. He doesn't check it, but he knows that if you don't have it 'locked away' in his sweats pocket for a while you'll just end up zoning out the same way you did before.

"Thanks, sugar," he smirks, "You're so good."

Your cheeks burn at the priase, rolling your eyes with a grin that cracks against your features, "Don't. We're not doing anything sexy."

"Yeah I know," he shrugs innocently, finding his way next to you again, "But when you smile like that, who am I to deny you a lil' somethin'?"

He dims the lights in the open space from the remote on the coffee table, settling in while you make yourself comfortable in his side. Eddie keeps you close on nights like this, when he knows you're on unsteady ground. You're still quiet, but the start of another Twilight Zone marathon keeps you more alert than before. With steady breaths you start to relax in what he'd deem a healthier way than before, and the quiet doesn't make his brain too fuzzy this time around. In the still of the living room and the hum of Rod Serlings voice, he feels you squeeze his hand -- a silent thank you. He doesn't think he could be any more in love.

#orange colored sky #older!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #older!eddie munson x you #ocs!eddie #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie musnon #eddie munson fanfiction

[stylesispunk]

"Where is my love?"

Joel miller x f! reader

summary: Isn't she coming to me?

w.c: 7k>

warning: angst, mentions of death, and grief.

a/n: this is a sad one and closer to my heart because grieving is the love we can give to people who are gone. The only change of this is that has been ten years since the "end of the world" and is based on the last chapter of the show. reblogs and comments are always appreciated and for the love of god, can you please help me with inspo for writing, I want to write for other characters, so if you have any suggestions are welcome. Have a lovely reading 💌 dividers by @/saradika

masterlist

Your paths crossed a long time ago. When the world had descended into madness, the souls met the dead in a now forgotten land. He came across you, and he fell in love with you. The sunlight radiating after the freezing storm was a fire keeping his brittle heart warm.

You had saved him from ending his own life that day, when he had lost faith in a horror movie without an ending or a purpose. He did lose everything he had known—everything he had ever loved and protected—but he had met you.

For him, you were an angel, not delicate nor free from sins, but an angel who appeared after he thought he had met his spirit in heaven.

You have looked after him and Tommy for days, taking care of their well-being and taking care of the reminiscing scar plastered on Joel’s forehead as a reminder of his almost-death encounter with his angel, you.

And you had loved him ever since; you found yourself increasingly drawn to him, not just for his vulnerability under your eyes but because he had brought sense back to life. His presence seemed to chase away the shadows that had been going to hunt you since now.

As the days turned into weeks, months, and then years, the bond between you and Joel only grew stronger. You found yourself drawn to his strength, his resilience in the face of adversity, and the way he faced each day with unwavering determination.

You had loved him after acknowledging every terrible thing he had done, and you loved him anyway. The darkness inside of him, taunted by the loss of the previous time, didn’t prevent you from looking at him as if he hung the stars of the sky. You both looked at night before sleeping, trying to find some reassurance.

Together, you faced the challenges, from the first days of the end of the world to the QZ, to Ellie, to where you were right now, knowing that as long as you had each other, you could overcome anything.

Now, here in Jackson, in the quiet moment before sleep, you and Joel would still gaze up at the stars, finding solace in the vastness of the night sky. And as you held each other close, you found reassurance in the knowledge that no matter what tomorrow brought, you would face it together.

Joel broke the silence, his voice soft yet filled with the weight of years gone by. "You know, I never thought I'd find this kind of peace again. Not after everything that's happened."

You turned to him, your eyes meeting his in the darkness. "We've been through hell and back, Love. But somehow, we made it together."

He reached out to intertwine his fingers with yours, seeking the comfort your touch brought to him. "I don't know what I would do without you," he admitted, his voice breaking a little.

"You don't have to find out," you replied, a gentle smile playing on your lips. "We're in this together, remember? No matter what."

Joel nodded, his gaze returning to the heavens above. "Yeah, together," he echoed, as if trying to convince himself of the truth of those words.

"You will never lose me,” you whispered, leaning in to press a tender kiss to his forehead. "And I'll always be here to guide you home."

He closed his eyes, savoring the warmth of your lips over his skin. "I love you," he murmured, the words carrying the weight of a lifetime of pain and longing.

"I love you too," you replied, your heart overflowing with love for the man beside you.

Being in Jackson brought you back to a civilization, to peace, to a place where you could both sleep next to each other at the same time without fearing other people coming for you.

But as much as you cherished the peace and stability that Jackson provided, you couldn't escape the reality of everyday life. With it came the mundane challenges, the petty conflicts, and the occasional tension that threatened to disrupt the tranquility you had found together. There were disagreements, misunderstandings, and moments of frustration that tested the strength of your relationship.

You felt a rush of joy as you entered the door of your Jackson home. You couldn't wait to tell Joel about the trade you had made, so you were looking forward to seeing his reaction.

"Joel," you called out, your voice full of anticipation as you approached the living room where he was sitting. "Guess what? "I made a trade today."

Joel looked up from his book, interest in his eyes. "A trade?" "What did you get?"

You smiled, holding out the little camera you'd traded for some extra food supplies. "I exchanged some of our extra coffee for this camera! It's in excellent condition, and I thought we might use it to save some memories."

As you proudly showed the camera, Joel's initial curiosity turned into an unhappy face. He set down his book and looked at you with a mixture of disbelief and stress.

"You traded all of our extra coffee for a camera?" Joel repeated, his voice filled with frustration. "We rely on that coffee, you understand. It's not simply an extravagance; it's a product in high demand here in Jackson."

You faltered, understanding the potential repercussions of your impulsive trade. "I know, Joel, but I thought..."

"You thought what?" Joel interjected, his irritation growing. "That a camera was more important than having enough food to get us through the winter? "What if something happens and we need that coffee?"

You bit your lip, feeling a sense of remorse rush over you. "I didn't think of it that way. I just thought it would be wonderful to have something to save our memories."

Joel sighed and ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I understand, but we must prioritize our needs before our wants. You cannot go out there and make bad decisions."

His words hurt, and you felt a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You didn't plan to compromise your safety, but in your excitement, you forgot to consider the repercussions of your actions.

"I'm sorry, Joel," you said quietly, feeling a sensation of shame rush over you. "I didn't mean to cause any harm."

Joel's gaze softened slightly as you apologized, but the tension in the air remained. "It's okay," he said softly. "Just stop being this childish," he murmured, strolling past you to the kitchen and leaving you in

Joel's gaze softened slightly as you apologized, but the tension in the air remained. "It's okay," he said softly. "Just stop being so childish," he replied, walking past you to the kitchen and leaving you in the living room with a bitter taste in your mouth.

A wave of guilt swept over you. You didn't mean to act impulsively or selfishly, but you now see that your actions had far-reaching implications.

Feeling the weight of Joel's disappointment, you remained in the living room, staring at the camera in your hands, your heart heavy. You realized he was correct; you needed to be more responsible and more aware of the circumstances and the actions that could affect your survival; being at peace in a place did not imply the risk had passed.

With a heavy sigh, you lay the camera down on the table, the excitement you had felt earlier replaced with a sense of regret. Joel's words lingered in your head, reminding you of the excitement you had felt earlier, replaced by a sense of remorse. Joel's words echoed in your mind, a reminder of the need to grow and learn from your mistakes.

You walked upstairs to your room, and with a heavy heart, you lay in bed, the events of the day on your mind. Despite the comfort of the blankets that surrounded you, you couldn't shake the sense of remorse and sorrow that persisted within you.

You closed your eyes and replayed the conversation with Joel in your head, each word stinging like a sharp reminder of your failure. You knew you'd let him down, and the thought gnawed at you, leaving a bad taste in your mouth.

And as you drifted off to sleep, the weight of Joel's disappointment gradually began to lighten. A few hours later, you awoke to the faint click of a camera shutter. Blinking sleepily, you opened your eyes to see Joel standing by the bedside, a tiny smile on his lips as he held the camera.

"What are you doing?" you said, your voice still laced with sleepiness.

Joel chuckled and lowered his camera as he neared the bed. "Just capturing a moment," he said, his eyes filled with adoration as he glanced down at you. In confusion, you furrowed your brow and sat up slightly in bed. "A moment of me sleeping?" you asked, feeling both amused and fascinated.

Joel nodded, his smile growing wider. "Yes, a second while you sleep. You looked beautiful; I couldn’t resist."

Despite the lingering anger from earlier, Joel's gesture made you feel warm. It was a modest act, but it showed a lot about his remorse and faith in your relationship. Reaching out, you took the camera from Joel's hands, studying the image of yourself sleeping soundly.

"I look horrible," you muttered. Joel softened his smile and leaned in to kiss your forehead. "Liar," he muttered. "Sorry for how I acted earlier." He moved forward, pressing his lips against your cheek this time.

"You're just an old, grumpy man," you remember, with a tiny giggle. His soft kisses eased the tension between you. His amusing response lightened the mood and lifted the sadness that had been in your heart.

"Old grumpy man, huh?" Joel chuckled, shaking his head in mock indignation. “I’ll show you what this old, grumpy man can do,” he said, planting a more urgent kiss on your lips this time.

You worked hard in the weeks following your fight with Joel to repair the distance that had grown between you. Despite the apparent signs of peacemaking, you still had a persistent sense of insecurity.

Then a new woman arrived in Jackson. She was closer to Joel's age, and you couldn't help but notice the easy connection that had developed between them. They spent a lot of time together, whether on patrol with Tommy or speaking in the common areas of Jackson.

You tried to ignore the jealousy that was bubbling up inside of you. After all, Joel had always been polite and accommodating to strangers, so there was no reason to suspect anything other than friendship between them.

But as the days went on and you saw Joel and the new woman form a stronger bond, your concern grew. You couldn't escape the nagging suspicion that there was something more between them—something that harmed the precious trust you'd worked so hard to build. 

On today's evening, as you watched Joel and the woman laugh from across the room, you felt a pang of jealousy. You excused yourself and withdrew from the privacy of your thoughts since you could no longer contain your feelings.

You were alone in the living room, struggling with opposite emotions. Part of you felt ashamed for doubting Joel and allowing jealousy to cloud your thinking. But another part of you couldn't help but feel sad and insecure as if you weren't enough for him; after all, it wasn't just you, him, and Ellie outdoors any longer, and here in Jackson, you weren't the last woman in the world.

As you sat alone in the living room, buried in your thoughts, the sound of steps broke your state of trance. Looking up, you noticed Ellie enter the home, looking bright and cheerful, until she spotted your teary eyes.

"Hey, I missed you at dinner in the bar," Ellie said, concern etching her features as she approached you. "Is everything okay?"

You tried to brush off her concern with a forced smile, but Ellie wasn't fooled. "Yeah, everything's fine," you replied, your voice betraying the turmoil within you.

But Ellie wasn't about to let it go that easily. She moved closer, her gaze searching yours with intensity. "No, it's not. What happened? Why are you crying?"

Your heart ached at the concern in Ellie's eyes, and despite your best efforts to hold back the tears, they continued to fall. "I...I don't know," you admitted, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. "I just...I don't know where Joel is."

Ellie's brow furrowed in confusion. "Joel? He's eating with Tommy and the new girl, why?"

You shook your head, unable to articulate the jumble of emotions swirling inside you. "I don't know," you repeated, feeling the tears threaten to overwhelm you once more. "I just...I need to talk to him."

Sensing the urgency in your voice, Ellie nodded in understanding. "Okay, let's go find him," she said, taking your hand and leading you out of the house.

As you followed Ellie towards the bar, your heart raced with fear and anticipation. You knew that whatever awaited you there, you couldn't continue to let your doubts and insecurities consume you.

Once inside the bar, you noticed Joel in the crowd, his gaze settling on yours with a warmth that shot an emotion through your chest. It was as if a magnetic force drew you closer together, despite any remaining doubts.

You moved across the crowded bar, Ellie's hand firmly clutched in yours, Joel's smile widening, and his gaze never leaving yours.

Finally reaching Joel's side, you felt a wave of relief sweep over you as he held you in his arms. The warmth of his hug swept away the residual frost of doubt, leaving you with an eager sense of calm and belonging.

"I missed you," Joel murmured, his voice soft as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"I missed you too," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you leaned into Joel's embrace, reveling in the familiar scent of his cologne and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

For a moment, the world around you faded into insignificance, leaving only you and Joel locked in a tender embrace. It was as if time itself had slowed to a halt, allowing you to savor the precious moments you shared together.

As Joel pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, you felt a rush of emotion swell within you, a profound gratitude for the love and support he had always shown you.

As the tender moment between you and Joel lingered, a voice interrupted, pulling you back to the present. "Hey, Joel!" called out a cheerful voice, and you turned to see a woman approaching, a bright smile on her face.

Joel turned to face the stranger, his arm still wrapped over you protectively. "Oh, hey Rachel," he said, a warm smile on his face. "This is my girlfriend," he added, introducing you. Then he turned his face to introduce the stranger to you. "This is Rachel, and she is new to Jackson."

You smiled politely at Rachel, but a tinge of dread came over you as you watched how she drew in closer to Joel, her hand casually resting on his free arm. You repressed a jealous pang and pushed yourself to keep a friendly demeanor, even though your heart squeezed with uncertainty.

"It's nice to meet you, Rachel," you said, your voice solid despite the tumult inside you.

Rachel returned the welcome with a warm grin, and her eyes flickered with intrigue as she glanced. between you and Joel. "Likewise," she replied, her tone friendly but tinged with a hint of flirtation.

As the night went on, you couldn't ignore the sense of unease that hung in the air. Despite your best efforts to ignore it, Rachel's lingering touches and seductive glances at Joel gnawed at your insides, stoking the jealousy that threatened to engulf you.

With each passing moment, it became more difficult to ignore Joel and Rachel's growing friendship. Their laughter and friendly banter got on your nerves, reminding you of the bond that they had.

You tried to ignore your misgivings and enjoy the evening with Joel, but insecurity weighed heavily on you. It felt like you were on the outside looking in, watching helplessly as Joel and Rachel got closer with each passing second.

Rachel's flirtations became more daring as the night progressed, her touches lingering a bit too long and her laughter provocative. Despite your best attempts to remain calm, the jealousy simmering beneath the surface threatened to explode.

You stole looks toward Joel, hoping to find reassurance in his eyes, but he seemed unaware of the impact Rachel's actions were having on you. It was as if she had enchanted him, consuming all of his attention.

You excused yourself from the table, unable to take the sight of Joel and Emily's flirtatious behavior any longer. You could understand, after all, that Joel was a handsome man who hadn't received this much attention since the world ended; yet, that didn't make it any less painful.

As you excused yourself from the table, a slew of feelings surged through you—pain, jealousy, and a deep sense of isolation. You longed for Joel's reassurance, his acknowledgment of the hurt that Rachel's behavior was causing you, but as you stole a glance at him, you saw only obliviousness in his gaze.

With a heavy heart, you moved away, your footsteps quietly echoing on the bar's hardwood floor. You felt Joel's stare on your back, but you couldn't force yourself to look into his eyes, scared of what you might find reflected there.

As you approached the edge of the room, you hesitated, your back facing Joel, struggling to find the perfect words. Finally, you spoke, hardly rising above a whisper. "I need some air," you remarked, your voice filled with anguish.

After a period of silence, you felt Joel's hand on your arm, warm and soothing. "Hey," he replied quietly, his voice full of concern. "Are you okay?"

You turned to face him, meeting his gaze with a mixture of longing and frustration. "I just...I need some time," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "I'll be outside."

Joel's expression softened, and his eyes filled with understanding as he nodded in response. "I'll come find you," he promised, his voice gentle as he squeezed your hand.

But instead, as you walked towards the house, the weight of the evening's events bearing down on you, you felt Joel's presence beside you. His steps were quiet, but his presence was comforting, a silent reassurance that you were not alone in your pain.

"Hey," Joel said softly, his voice breaking the silence between you. "I'm sorry about back there. I didn't realize... I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

You glanced sideways at Joel, the warmth of his gaze softening the edges of your frustration. "It's not your fault," you replied, your voice tinged with sadness. "I know you didn't mean to."

Joel fell into a step beside you, his hand reaching out to brush against yours. "I just want you to know that you're the only one for me," he said earnestly, his voice filled with sincerity. "No one else matters, not like you do."

“You could have told her about it,” you said, frustration edging into your tone.

Joel's expression faltered slightly at your words, a hint of defensiveness flickering in his eyes. "I didn't think it was necessary," he replied, his tone tinged with irritation. "I didn't want to embarrass her or make things awkward."

You felt a surge of frustration rising within you, the sting of jealousy and insecurity reigniting in your chest. "But by not saying anything, you made me feel like my feelings didn't matter," you countered, your voice tinged with hurt. "You made me doubt myself; doubt us."

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice strained. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way. I just didn't know how to handle the situation."

The tension between you hung heavy in the air, the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions pressing down on both of you. You wanted to believe Joel's assurances of love and devotion, but the lingering doubts and insecurities threatened to cloud your judgment.

"I need to rest," you said, changing the subject, your voice steady but tinged with sadness. "Tomorrow, we need to get up early for the patrol.”

“Actually, I’m not coming with you,” he said carefully.

“What? Why?”

“I’ll promise Rachel to...“

The air crackled with tension as Joel's words hung between you, his admission weighing heavily on your heart. Anger flared within you, fueled by hurt and betrayal.

"Why?" you demanded, your voice laced with frustration and disappointment. "Why would you choose her over me?

Joel's expression softened, and his eyes filled with regret. "I’m not choosing her over you; I would never do that," he replied, his voice tinged with guilt. "I didn't realize it would upset you."

You shook your head, unable to hide your frustration. "You should have talked to me about it first," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "You should have considered my feelings."

With a heavy heart, you turned away from Joel, the ache of disappointment echoing within you. As you retreated into the solitude of your thoughts, you couldn't help but wonder if your relationship could withstand this latest test or if it was destined to crumble beneath the weight of unresolved conflicts and broken promises.

“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight!” you exclaimed as you kept walking.

The next morning dawned with a strong sense of tension in the air, the previous night's events still fresh in your mind. As you awoke from your sleep and began to prepare for the day ahead, the pain of disappointment and deceit chewed at your heart, casting a shadow on the early sun.

With a heavy sigh, you pushed aside any remaining doubts and concerns, determined to focus on the task at hand. As you approached the kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, a soothing reminder of Joel's presence.

You discovered him standing by the counter, holding a warm mug of coffee, and preparing a second cup for you. His expression was solemn.

His eyes were downcast, as if weighted down by the events of the night before.

"Morning, angel," he said, his voice tinged with regret, as he gave you the mug. "I made some coffee."

“Thank you, but I’m leaving,” you replied, shortly walking towards the door.

"Angel, wait," Joel called out, his voice pleading as he reached out to gently grasp your arm, halting your departure. His touch was warm against your skin, a silent plea for you to stay and hear him out.

You hesitated, torn between the desire to escape the tension that hung between you and the longing to resolve the issues that had driven a wedge between you and Joel. With a heavy sigh, you turned to face him, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you like a leaden blanket.

“Take care; you know your safety is the most important thing for me,” he reassured, meeting your sad gaze.

"What a shame you're not going to be there to protect me," you replied bitterly, unable to mask the hurt in your voice. The words spilled out before you could stop them, a reflection of the pain and frustration that churned within you.

Joel's expression softened; his eyes filled with remorse as he reached out to gently cup your cheek.

Joel closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss filled with longing and remorse. It was a silent reassurance of his love and commitment, a promise to mend the wounds that had been inflicted upon your relationship.

As the kiss lingered, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, the weight of uncertainty lifting ever so slightly from your shoulders. Despite the pain and hurt, you knew that Joel was sincere in his desire to make things right, and you were willing to give him another chance.

Pulling away, Joel met your gaze with a mixture of regret and determination. "We'll talk when you get back," he said softly, his voice filled with resolve. "I'll be here waiting for you, ready to make things right."

With a nod of agreement, you returned Joel's gaze, a silent acknowledgment of your shared commitment to each other.

As you and Tommy ventured out on patrol, the rhythm of your footsteps echoed against the deserted streets of Jackson. The tension that had weighed heavily on you began to ease slightly, replaced by a sense of purpose as you focused on the task at hand.

"So, what happened between you and Joel?" Tommy asked, breaking the silence that had settled between you. His voice was filled with concern, and his eyes were studying your expression carefully.

You sighed, the events of the previous night still fresh in your mind. "We had an argument," you admitted reluctantly, the words heavy on your tongue. "I just don't know how to trust him again."

Tommy nodded in understanding, his expression sympathetic. "I get it," he said softly. "But you have to remember, Joel cares about you more than anything. He'd do anything to protect you, even if he doesn't always show it the right way."

You mulled over Tommy's words, the weight of his reassurance providing some measure of comfort amidst the uncertainty that plagued you. Despite the doubts that lingered in your mind, you knew that, deep down, Joel's intentions were genuine and his love for you was unwavering.

"I know," you replied, a sense of resolve creeping into your voice. "I just need to figure things out."

Tommy placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his gaze filled with empathy. "You will," he said confidently. "And when you do, Joel will be right there waiting for you, ready to make things right."

With a nod of gratitude, you continued on your patrol, the weight of uncertainty still heavy on your shoulders but with a glimmer of hope shining through the darkness. As you walked, you couldn't help but feel grateful for Tommy's support and reassurance, knowing that with his guidance and the strength of your bond with Joel, you would find a way to navigate the challenges that lay ahead.

“Of course, you will say nice things about your stupid brother,” you joked.

Tommy chuckled at your jest, the sound carrying through the quiet streets as you continued on your patrol. "Hey, he may be stubborn and thick-headed sometimes, but Joel's got a good heart," he said with a grin. "And he cares about you more than anything."

You couldn't help but smile at Tommy's words, grateful for his unwavering support and his ability to see the best in Joel, even in the midst of conflict. "Thanks, Tommy," you said sincerely, the weight of uncertainty lifting ever so slightly from your shoulders. "I appreciate it."

Tommy nodded in response, his expression filled with understanding. "Anytime," he replied, his voice laced with warmth. "We're family, after all. And family sticks together, no matter what."

As you and Tommy continued your patrol around Jackson, everything was eerily quiet, with the only sound being the subtle crunch of gravel beneath your feet. The weight of insecurity lingered in the air, but you pressed on, determined to do your job and safeguard your town.

A group of people appeared from the shadows unexpectedly, their faces hidden by the night's darkness. Your heart jumped into your throat as you understood the danger that was immediately surrounding you.

You weren't a weak person; in fact, people considered you a powerful fighter, always merciless when it was required and determined to save the ones you cared about, so your instincts kicked in and your senses heightened as adrenaline flowed through veins. Despite the suddenness of the attack, you maintained your composure, guided by your training and expertise.

Until one of them grabbed you and pinned you down, your heart raced with a mix of fear and determination. You struggled against their hold, every muscle in your body tensing as you fought to break free. Despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins, the grip of your assailant remained firm, their strength overpowering.

With a surge of desperation, you summoned all your strength and training, channeling it into a fierce struggle to break free. Your mind raced with thoughts of escape, of finding a way to overcome this unexpected obstacle and emerge victorious.

Beside you, Tommy fought valiantly against the other attackers, his determination matching your own as he defended against the onslaught. Though outnumbered and caught off guard, you refused to give in, clinging to the hope that help would soon arrive.

“So, you’re Joel’s Miller girl,” a feminine voice said.

The voice cut through the chaos, freezing you momentarily as you tried to recognize the mocking tone. Despite the tense situation, a surge of anger flared within you at the mention of Joel's name. You refused to let fear or intimidation weaken your resolve.

With renewed determination, you continued to struggle against your assailant's hold, your mind racing with thoughts of escape and survival. Every fiber of your being was focused on breaking free and finding a way to overcome this threat and protect yourself and Tommy.

“Tommy!” you exclaimed, worry creeping up with you.

“I’m fine!” he reassured back.

“What do you want?” You asked the girl, who is now in front of you.

The girl smirked, her eyes filled with venom as she peered down at you, pinned under her. "What do I want?" she said, her voice full of scorn. "I'd like to send a message to your dear Joel. I want him to understand that no one is safe, including his girl."

Her statements enraged your fury, but you kept calm, refusing to show any signs of weakness in the face of her remarks. "And what message would that be?" you asked, your voice steady despite what was occurring.

As she drew in closer, the girl's smirk deepened, and her eyes took on a malicious glitter. "The message is simple," she stated, her voice low and frightening. "I will take away what he loves.

the most from him, as he did with me.”

“What?” but before you could even realize what was happening, you felt a sharp pain through your abdomen.

The sharp pain ripped through your abdomen, stealing the breath from your lungs as you gasped in shock. A guttural cry of agony escaped your lips as you felt blood seeping from the wound, staining your clothes crimson.

The girl's cruel laughter echoed in your ears as she withdrew the weapon, a twisted smirk of satisfaction twisting her features. "That's the message," she said coldly, her voice dripping with malice.

You didn’t want to die here without seeing the smiles of the people you loved.

Your vision blurred as waves of pain washed over you, threatening to drag you into unconsciousness. Through the haze of agony, you fought to stay conscious, your thoughts consumed by a desperate need to survive, to make it back to Joel, to warn him of the danger that now threatened you both.

“Hey, stay with me. I’m taking you to Jackson,” Tommy said desperately, but his voice was just an echo at this time.

The world seemed to spin around you as you fought to hold onto consciousness, Tommy's voice barely registering amidst the haze of pain and confusion. Every fiber of your being screamed in agony, but you refused to succumb to the darkness that threatened to consume you.

With a herculean effort, you summoned whatever strength remained within you, clinging to Tommy's words like a lifeline. Through sheer force of will, you forced your eyes to focus, locking onto Tommy's determined gaze as he lifted you into his arms.

The journey back to Jackson was a blur of agony and desperation, with each step sending waves of pain coursing through your battered body. But with every labored breath, you clung to the hope that burned within you—a determination to survive and protect those you loved.

As the walls of Jackson loomed into view, relief flooded through you, a flicker of hope amidst the darkness. With Tommy's unwavering support, you stumbled towards safety, with the promise of medical aid and the comfort of Joel's embrace urging you forward.

As you were carried through the gates of Jackson, the weight of exhaustion and pain threatened to overwhelm you.

Tommy stepped into Jackson's doors, crying out for help as you lay practically still in his arms. The wound in your stomach was major, and he couldn't shake the thought that you would die as a result of his inability to protect you.

As Tommy stormed through the doors of Jackson, his voice buzzing with desperation, terror spread throughout the neighborhoods. People turned their heads, concerned expressions on their faces, as they saw you almost unresponsive in his arms, crimson blood covering the clothes you were wearing.

A crowd swiftly gathered around Tommy, their alarming murmuring filling the air. Tommy ignored them, focusing entirely on getting you the help you so desperately needed.

As Tommy went towards the improvised infirmary, frantic yells sounded out, requesting the medical attention they had here. His steps were heavy with guilt, and each instant seemed to last forever as he feared the worst.

Finally, the infirmary doors swung open, and a team of medics led by Jackson hurried forward to take you from Tommy's arms. They worked fast and effectively, their expressions serious as they assessed the seriousness of your injury. 

Tommy stood back, his hands quivering with terror and remorse, as he saw the doctor rush into action. He couldn't shake the notion that your condition was a result of his failing to safeguard you from harm.

Joel's heart was tight with fear when he saw a commotion near the infirmary. Without hesitation, he raced towards the crowd, his instincts screaming for him to get to you as soon as possible.

Joel's heart raced in his chest as he pushed his way through the crowd, finally arriving at the infirmary entrance. He saw you, pale and frail, in the arms of the doctors, your life hanging in limbo.

Joel moved forward without hesitation, arms outstretched, reaching for you. "No," he murmured hoarsely, terror and desperation evident in his tone. "Please, don't let her die."

The medics stepped aside, allowing Joel to take you into his arms. As he held you close, he could feel the warmth of your body against his, but it was too still, too fragile. Tears welled in his eyes as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, silently praying for your recovery.

“Hey, angel,” he murmured, finding strength in his voice. “Open those beautiful eyes of yours for me, baby, okay? Please, do it!” He continued sobbing as he caressed your hair. “I can lose everything, but not you... Oh god, not you, please?”

Joel kept holding you in his arms, preventing you from going away from him, and you could feel his touch, his care, and his voice pleading with you to stay with him. You wanted that, you wanted so bad, but the strength was dying inside you, and everything you ever knew went black.

You became a lifeless frame in the arms of your biggest love. When you stopped breathing, Joel’s heart stopped beating because, as if it was glass, it shattered.

The look of the doctor and the face of Tommy told them the truth he didn’t want to acknowledge, confirming the unthinkable: you were gone. In that moment, time seemed to stand still as Joel's world shattered around him. He clung to your lifeless form, his body racked with sobs as he struggled to comprehend the enormity of his loss.

"No, no, please," Joel choked out, his voice breaking with grief as he held you close, unwilling to accept the truth of what had just happened. Tears streamed down his cheeks unchecked, his sobs echoing in the silence of the infirmary.

For a moment, time stood still as Joel clung to you, unwilling to let go and unwilling to accept that you were gone. The world around him blurred, and the pain in his heart was too overwhelming to bear.

But as the reality of your loss settled over him, Joel's grief turned to rage, a primal, consuming fury that burned through him like wildfire. With a guttural cry of anguish, he cradled you in his arms, his body trembling with the force of his emotions.

In that moment, Joel felt as if his world had come crashing down around him, leaving nothing but darkness and despair in its wake. He had lost everything—the love of his life, his reason for living, his angel.

And as he held you close, his heart shattered into a million pieces, each one a painful reminder of the love he had lost and the life that had been snuffed out too soon. For Joel, the world had ceased to exist, consumed by the gaping void left in the wake of your passing.

He was never going to kiss you again; he was never going to hold you close at night or wake up to your smile in the morning. The future he had imagined, filled with laughter and love, now lay shattered at his feet.

A few hours later, Joel woke up in your shared bed, and you were sleeping next to him.

Joel's hand extended out to touch you, and a sense of warmth and comfort came over him. For a little while, he felt the smoothness of your skin beneath his fingertips and the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed peacefully beside him.

But then reality slammed back in like a tidal wave, yanking him from his comfortable state of sleep. His hand gripped the empty air, his fingers wrapping around nothing but chilly emptiness.

Joel's eyes opened abruptly, and he found himself lying in the dimly lit space, alone in the bed that had previously accommodated both of you. The ache in his chest returned with vengeance, a searing pang of anguish piercing his heart as he realized you were no longer alongside him.

Joel let out a deep sigh as he ran his hand through his hair, the memories of the dream still fresh in his mind. It felt so genuine and so vivid that, for a brief minute, he believed you were still alive and with him.

You were gone, taken from him in a cruel twist of fate, and no amount of dreaming could bring you back to him.

It's been a week, and he didn't attend your funeral because he was unable to accept that you were no longer alive.

Until today, when he stepped out of the house, which was surrounded by the flowers that some members of the community had left for you, and walked to your graveyard.

As Joel approached your graveyard, he felt an enormous burden settle over him—the weight of grief and loss that had been his constant companion in the days since your death. The walk appeared longer than it had ever been, with each step weighed down by the weight of his grief.

As he reached the grave, Joel's heart tightened with agony and need. The sight of the newly turned earth and the plain headstone traced your name as if it were your face. Joel's heart tightened with agony and need. The sight of freshly churned ground, with a simple monument marking your final resting place, acted as a sharp reminder of your absence.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you; I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

Tears welled in Joel's eyes as he laid a bouquet of flowers at the foot of the headstone, each bloom a silent tribute to the love and loss he felt in his heart. The scent of the flowers mingled with the earthy aroma of the graveyard, a poignant reminder of the fleeting beauty of life and the inevitability of death.

Joel's voice quivered as he spoke, every word heavy with the weight of his despair and sorrow. He kneeled near the grave, his hand resting on the cool surface of the headstone, seeking comfort in the memory of your love.

"I want you to know that it was never me who protected you, but you who protected me," Joel said quietly, his words barely audible above the delicate murmur of the wind through the trees. "You were always the one who gave me strength, who showed me what it meant to love and to be loved."

As Joel spoke, tears streamed down his cheeks, revealing his real and unadulterated grief. At that time, surrounded by the serene tranquility of the graveyard, he felt profound loss, a yawning void that could never be filled.

"But now you're gone," Joel added, his voice breaking with sadness. "And I do not know how to go on without you."

Joel rose to his feet after one final long glance at the headstone, a sensation of purpose coming over him. He may have lost you, but he promised to always carry your love with him, to respect your memory in all he did, and to find a way to move forward, even in the face of his greatest pain.

You were always in every star shining above, in the sky.

He was back in the dimly lit room, with the weight of the grief still over his shoulders, and with trembling hands, he reached for the small camera you had traded, his fingers tracing the familiar contours of the device.

As he turned it on, the screen flickered to life, illuminating the darkness with a soft glow. And there, displayed before him, was the image he had captured of your sleeping, your peaceful expression a bittersweet reminder of how simply you could make him happy.

With a heavy heart, Joel reached out, his fingertips gently tracing the patterns of your face on the screen. It was as if he could feel your presence beside him.

Tears welled in Joel's eyes as he lingered on the image, his heart aching with longing for the touch he could no longer feel. But in that moment, surrounded by memories of you, he found a glimmer of solace, a reminder that though you were gone, your love would always remain.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller series #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller angst #tlou fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel x reader #Joel Miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascar character imagine #pedro pascal

[pirateprincessblog]

2 batteries away

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: if he can choose to spend time with someone else rather than you, daryl would do it. not because he hates you. he simply doesn't have any type of connection with you. and you are so young. but when rick demands that you join him on a scavenge hunt, he doesn't have much of a saying into it, and chooses to act unbothered. he also chooses to ignore the way you tease him the whole trip, your hips swaying just a bit more when walking than usual. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: daryl dixon x female reader 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: alexandria, pre-negan 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: big age gap, reader is half daryl's age 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: voyeurism, masturbation, breath-play, subtle ddlg, toys, subtle dacryphilia

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i am on season ten of twd (my first time watching) and it feels like this man's clothes keep getting tighter and tighter each episode and i am so here for it. also the way his arms magically always glisten in the sun as he subtly flexes when the camera is on him? give me a break I BEG

Also I miss Rick very much 🥺

*

"i have a special request. if i'm allowed to do that." a playful voice calls behind you.

you turn around, squinting. the sun is high up in the sky, and right in your eyes. you make out carol's short hair, and nod at her as a sign to keep speaking.

"i'm gonna need something i can make cookies or cakes with. hazelnut, chocolate, almonds,... you know. cake stuff." the woman smiles.

"i'm going out for ibuprofen and possibly viagra, not chocolate."

"viagra? for who?"

you chuckle under the cap rosita has given you, and try to subtly glance over at the man loading the car with weapons. he grunts, glaring at you and instantly shutting down the bullying party you wanted to start.

"i don't need no damn viagra." he slams the trunk door shut, and walks past you, intentionally pushing his shoulder into yours.

you fall a step back, holding in a laugh. carol has her hands on her hips, but her laugh isn't hidden. she knows daryl can't say anything to her.

"oh, come on. i know that you like to stay quiet and mysterious, but a little joking in hard times never hurt anybody." the woman defends you, scrunching her eyebrows at daryl.

"it's hurting me." he yells from the car, slamming the door shut.

"how am i supposed to survive this trip with him, ricky?" you complain, shoulders hanging with rising irritation with the situation.

"you survived a walker flooded prison with nothing but an axe before you found us on the other side, and you're telling me you can't survive a grumpy old man for a few hours?"

"thing is, i killed walkers. i cannot kill him. boo-hoo, the precious tracker. i also, when i see a footprint on the floor facing a certain way, know that someone is headed there. wild, right?"

rick pats your head, messing up the cap in the process just to tease you.

"bring me some shirts on the way back, i'm getting sick of these flannels. and get yourself something nice."

one would think that he gave you his credit card to buy him those shirts at the nearby mall. telling you to get yourself something nice, that idiot. the less fun truth is that you are headed towards a landfill two hours away from alexandria, in hopes of finding anything. glenn and morgan haven't had any luck for a few days now, so rick decided to change the route and the team. daryl and you, apparently, make a great one. that pain in the ass of a man.

"i'm leavin'. you stay and talk 'bout me all you wan'. i'm the one actually doin' something for this place."

"stuck up much? see," you open the car door, sitting inside annoyed, "with the viagra, you'd be a much more pleasant person to be around."

"enough with the damn viagra. fuck's the matter with you?"

"god, just start driving and drop me off somewhere in the middle of the road and i'll find my own shit from a different place. rick doesn't need to know."

"no," he simply responds, not sparing you a glance.

rick waves at you with a smile on his face, knowing damn well what he did putting the two of you together for such a long quest. he's so going to hear from you tonight. if you make it out alive while trying to kill daryl.

"so, what are you hoping to find? booze, peanut butter, new clothes? i'm starting to think you stapled those clothes to your body."

he says nothing, eyes focused on the road. you sigh. maybe you're the problem. you're poking him too much, knowing he has zero patience and doesn't very much like your company. you decide to keep quiet for the rest of the drive, only occasionally glancing over at him out of boredom.

you can't lie, he is an attractive man. you don't know why you're mean to him. he is gorgeous to you, your taste in older rugged men not failing you. you're surprised rick isn't the one you fell for. but next to daryl, he looks too... neat. daryl is just perfect. most of the time his deep raspy voice has you subconsciously rubbing and squeezing your thighs, led by a tingling sensation in your lower stomach. his clothes have recently gotten very tight on him, the buttons of his black shirt threatening to pop and give you a view of your lifetime. he has been working out a lot, you've seen him. fuck, not only have you seen him, you also stayed there, secretly snapping pictures with your polaroid your father had left you before disaster struck. you only had a few films left, yet no self control. something about seeing daryl all sweaty as he did push ups, grunting and almost moaning, thinking that nobody can see him, did things to you.

"wha'?" he asks, sensing your intense gaze.

you turn your head away, flushed. "nothin'."

"mmh."

he keeps it short and stern, and if your panties weren't drenched as your brain replayed the memory of his glistening arm muscles, you'd probably make a sassy remark. he raises an eyebrow, probably also wondering why you aren't being mean for so long now.

"shoes." he says after some time.

"what?" you ask, absent-mindedly staring into the tall trees and the walkers hidden among them.

"i'm hoping to find some shoes. it's gettin' hard to walk in these. i also hope i find sum more arrows."

you nod, surprised that he has actually graced you with an answer. you thought he'd say something like cigarettes or alcohol. you hated people who smoke. but daryl is an exception. he looks damn hot doing it.

"you?" he asks.

"well, new underwear would be nice. i ripped all my good panties, and let me tell you, these thongs are not apocalypse friendly."

"shit, girl, oversharing much?"

"what, you disgusted by female underwear?" you poke back, playfully.

"not female underwear. your underwear."

you're offended. you squint at him, and have to fight the urge to smack the back of his head.

"for your information, you don't look or smell all flowery and fresh yourself. i could use your hair to grease up carol's tray for her cakes. and your fingernails? they have their own ecosystem at this point."

and back to the bickering it is. he grunts again, furrowing his eyebrows. he secretly glances at his fingernails. indeed, they had a layer of dirt under them, but daryl thinks that he has bigger issues than some dirt that will get washed off anyway.

"oh, i also wish to find-"

"yeah, lost interest." the man interrupts. "also, for future conversations, you do not mention your... thongs... to people that are ol' enough to be your father."

ew.

ew.

ew.

he did not.

"what, is that how you see me? you could be my father?"

how utterly disappointing. there you were, sitting next to him, imagining him going feral between your legs, all while he is viewing you as his child. there goes your masturbating material for tonight.

"well the age fits the description."

"fuck you. seriously." you sigh, turning your body towards the window so you can fully ignore him.

arriving at the gates, you immediately notice a few things that you will be taking home. how foolish of you to not take a truck instead of the crusty old car.

"watch it." just as he says it, an arrow passes by your head, followed with a loud thud.

you don't have to look back to know that a walker had managed to sneak behind you, while you were foolish enough to stay swooning over his arms glistening in the sun with sweat.

"damn it, girl, i don' know what it is with you, but you gotta snap outta it. i can't keep saving ya ass."

"yes, dad." you reply, annoyed.

"hey." he calls, hand reaching to cup your jaw and turn your head towards him. "shut it before i make ya."

if it weren't for the feeling of his rough hand on your face and his raspy voice sending you a warning turning you on, you would've slapped him and told him not to touch you. but oh, you were going crazy inside. you found a new way to push his buttons, and you're going to have so much fun with it.

you walk behind him into the landfill, the smell of junk pinching your nose. daryl is also bothered by it, seeing his scrunched expression as he scanned the first piles of garbage.

"there." he points his crossbow a certain way.

you follow the invisible line, your eyes landing on what seemed to be several taped boxes. they could have three things inside: food, weapons, or traps. weird how nobody has discovered this place yet. or maybe they have, and they took all valuables already.

daryl doesn't wait for you. he makes his way towards the boxes, keeping his crossbow ready if something goes wrong. you, on the other hand, have tucked your knife safely and are walking around like there isn't walkers scratching at the fence, waiting to sink their teeth into your skull.

"dammit."

you hear rattling. you turn around, only to find the man kicking the boxes angrily. the can he has just thrown on the floor rolls up to your feet, and you crouch down to examine it. it is food, but expired. eating it would be like playing russian roulette.

"i mean, we can still... ya'know, take it with us. what happens happens."

"dixon, if i'm gonna die, i'm gonna die from a bullet or a bite. not from a rotten macaroni."

he raises an eyebrow at you, amused with your laid back attitude. he doesn't give you much attention, just silently walks next to you while scanning his side of the landfill.

"ah, sweet!" you cheer, running towards a pile.

"wha'?"

you almost trip over the broken wooden chairs, trying to get to a certain little box in the pile.

"the hell are ya doin'? we're losin' time!"

your eyes instinctively roll at his voice. you know he has nothing smart to say. finally reaching the box, you jump back on the floor, eagerly opening it. seeing that the item still has the foil sealed on it, you victoriously raise it in the air, cheering.

"you have made it a goal for yourself to die today, didn't ya?"

"nah, not anymore. i found something that will keep me occupied and will fuel my will to live a little longer."

you continue your way forward, leaving daryl to stare at the box you have discarded, trying to figure out what it is. but he has decided he has no time for your immaturity. he needs to ask rick to not ever put him with you on a hunt again. he's lost a lot of time already, and hasn't found a single thing to bring back.

"clothes." you point, the pile of fabric sitting on top of a garbage hill.

"you gonna go get 'em?"

"why would i go? you go."

"you wanted your... thongs... so, you go get that."

you scoff, setting the newly acquired item on the ground and slowly climbing up the hill.

"what is this, anyway?" his curiosity wins.

you sit on top of the pile, examining the clothes and discarding the ones with holes in them.your eyes dart to the man below you, and you chuckle when you see him crouch and take the item in his hand.

"it's a wand."

"wand?"

"yes."

"for?" he keeps pressing, his eyes never leaving the pink gadget.

"masturbating."

thud.

you look down, mortified. he better not break it.

"careful with that, what's the matter with you?!"

"you're fuckin' crazy, girl."

you silently mock him, sticking your tongue out at him and repeating his words with exaggerated face expressions. he really gets on your nerves. you gather the clothes you have found into a bed sheet, tying it up and putting it over your shoulder, then pick up the gadget from the floor. it seems alive, it didn't break. you only hope it works. you're young, inexperienced, surrounded by people that are either too young or too old for you. though, the old part never was a problem for you, it was for them.

feeling bored, you decide to keep poking him. he is just so grumpy, and silent. and inviting to irritate.

"so, dixon, you've never heard about one of these?" you wave the gadget in front of his face.

he spares you a glare, and continues walking.

"come on, we're talking. nobody's around. tell me, since all of this started, how many times have you even approached a girl? do you even mastu-"

"'m not in the mood to be picked on right now."

"i'm not picking on you. i promise. just trying to converse."

"you want to be useful? hold this. it's in my way." he throws his vest at you, now only wearing a tight black t-shirt.

you scowl at him, shoving his vest into your backpack.

"you're so fun to be around. i get why rick put us together."

he grunts, leaving you behind. rolling your eyes, you go down a different path, hoping to find something useful to all of alexandria and not just you. turning a few lefts, you find yourself standing in front of a little shed like structure. you bang on the door with your foot, and when hearing no growls, you bravely enter. it is dusty and dark, with a singular armchair and a few cupboards.

you open each one of them, happily shoving all the food you managed to find into your backpack, opening a protein bar along the way and chewing on the oats and dried fruits. you missed having those with yogurt for breakfast.

not only will carol be happy with the amount of nuts and flour you have found, rick will be proud of you. you might even ask for a reward when he sees the amount of canned tuna and jam you have found. you forgot what pancakes taste like.

after clearing the room, you peek out the window. daryl is in the distance, going through piles and kicking stuff out of his way, as if playing. you've collected way more than him, and the sun is at it's highest point. the shaded room seems like a perfect place to take a nap, or just rest your feet and ears from him.

you plop on the armchair like a star washed up on the shore. it feels so lonely lately. rick has michonne, carl has enid, rosita has her boytoys, even gabriel might be having more fun than you. as wrong as it was, you stay up listening to the noises coming across the street. they're loud, there's no way you could ignore them even if you wanted to. even rick had to step in and ask them to be quieter. but what is a problem to someone else is a solution for you. is it wrong to touch yourself while listening to someone else fucking? yes. but is it the only way that works for you? also yes.

you eye up the toy that peeks from the backpack, then glance out the window. daryl is busy with his crossbow, having found something that he could use on it.

fuck it.

you unbuckle your pants, not bothering to take off the panties. your fingers are quick to pop the batteries that come with the package in the gadget, and when the lid clicks, you admire it for a second. there it is, in all its glory. waiting to be abused every day by you, until you find a replacement. hopefully a softer and live one.

taking off the thin protective foil from the head, you position yourself on the armchair. you glance at the window again, carefully monitoring daryl. now, if you thought that eavesdropping and touching yourself was bad, what was this? watching daryl's fingers work on his crossbow, arms glistening in the sun, all while the pink toy softly vibrates on your pulsating clit.

you sigh at the newfound pleasure, rubbing the toy up and down your slit, while your eyes stay focused on the man unaware of your situation. he probably even forgot about you. or is thankful that you have left him alone. even better for you. you get to be a pervert without him ever knowing.

you arch your back, throwing your head on the backrest as you focus on chasing the release. it's been awhile, it won't take you long. your eyes open again, just enough to see if the man is still in his spot. your fingers change the vibration strength on the gadget, and instantly, you gasp. it is so intense, and so much, but you don't want it to stop. this thing is your new best friend, you better get used to it.

something else peeks out of the backpack, the leather catching your attention and giving you an idea. like an animal in heat, you grab the vest, burying your nose into it and spreading your legs further. daryl's scent takes over your senses, making you lose control and become a moaning mess. you are getting wetter by the second, the toy now slipping up and down your slit with ease and giving you maximum pleasure.

"fuck- daryl-" you can't help but gasp, enveloped in his manly scent and fabric.

your hips hopelessly rub against the toy, chasing and chasing after something that isn't quite getting closer, even though it feels like it.

"the hell?"

your eyes widen at the interruption. you drop the vest in your lap, hiding the crime scene from him. the man stands at the door, expression unreadable. yours is one of horrified mixed with desire, the way he stares down at you angrily sending arrows to your core.

"daryl- i- did you, uh, find anything?" you try to play it off, foolishly.

"yeah. i found an animal in heat it seems. couldn't wait for alexandria to do that shit?"

"I-"

"is that my vest?"

he slams the door shut, leaving you two in darkness. you gulp, moving the gadget from your core and letting your panties fall back in place.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry-" you stutter, failing to put a sentence together while he intensely glares at you.

"ya ain't sorry." he grunts. "ya know why i despise being around your ass? you're inappropriate."

"no, look," you try, but he points a finger at your face, making you close your mouth.

your eyes burn, tears announcing their arrival.

"it's not like that-"

"shut up, dammit! i'm talkin' now! do you have any idea in how many uncomfortable situations you've  put me? all those snarky dirty comments, all that flirting, now this? do you understand what that does to me?!"

he's yelling, frustrated and angry with you. but why are you getting wetter? why can't you think rationally? he is scolding you for being inappropriate, and you continue to be even more inappropriate by sexualising simple yelling. not your fault he looks damn hot while he does it, though.

"you're- you're half my age. i can't allow myself to play your games, no matter how tempting."

what?

"what will alexandria think? they already have no good opinion on me. engaging with someone half my age the way you want me to engage is- it is a horrible idea. i'll be out faster than i was in."

silence swallows the room. you still lay on the armchair, half naked with his vest covering you. he paces around the room, fingers running through his hair as he tries to gather his thoughts. you think whether it's time to finally say something, but you wait another moment. you need to gather your thoughts too.

tempting, he said. so he thought about it too. he saw past your jokes, and has been controlling himself so well. if only you knew what it would take to shatter that control, even for just a moment.

"since when do you care what other people think?" you start.

"since rick chose to trust me."

you hum, understanding.

"listen-"

"so you've been thinking about it." you're the one to interrupt now.

his head snaps up, looking at you with his eyebrow raised, as if asking you where you're going with that statement.

"there's nothing wrong with it. it's not like we're getting married or something."

"i'm older than you. way older than you."

"so?"

"i could be your father."

"if you say that word to me one more time i swear i will turn this landfill upside down to find another sex toy to shove up your asshole."

"why do you get so triggered by it?"

you roll your eyes, looking anywhere but at him. you press your thighs together, missing the warmth and buzzing from earlier. fun killer.

"because."

"why?"

"doesn't matter."

"tell me," he presses further.

you finally look at him, frustrated. "because i have fucking daddy issues and the thought of you being so much older than me turns me on. there."

you get up from the armchair, putting his vest on so that you can cover yourself. it almost reaches your knees, hiding your body from his gaze. he says nothing, and does nothing for a few moments. you have your back turned to him, hands resting on the counter of the half chipped kitchen cabinet. your head hangs low with embarrassment from the confession that just left your mouth.

tears stream down your cheeks, luckily hidden by your hair. but daryl doesn't miss the little sniff that comes your way. he sighs, then paces around the place a little more. when you don't hear him anymore, and finally face the fact that nothing will be the same with him anymore, you dare turn around. you almost gasp when you come face to face with him, his chest pressing against yours.

"wha- what are you-"

"shh..." he hushes you, eyes roaming your face.

you aren't sure what to do, or what he wants to do. if he tries to comfort you by giving you a hug, you will break down. and you will never face him again. you thought it was only sexual, but the way he looks at you and hushes you as you cry is awakening new emotions inside of you. ones that you will push down for now, because it is not the time.

"daryl, i'm sorry." you hiccup, genuinely feeling sorry for ruining whatever you had with him.

you feel his hands on the back of your thighs, and before you can react, he picks you up and places you on the counter. you instinctively spread your legs, letting him in closer.

"don't be. or else i might regret this."

you look at him doe eyed as he places his hand on your neck, gently holding you just beneath your jaw and softly pressing into the sides of it. he brings his head close to you, eyes half closed as he stares at your lips.

"daryl." you whisper, not sure of this anymore.

"just hush."

and with that, he presses his lips into yours, softly moving them with rhythm only known to the two of you. his other hand caresses your thigh, then creeps to your bottom and pulls you to the edge of the counter, enough to have your crotch press against his.

you can taste your tears while you kiss him, and he probably can too. he doesn't say anything, hell, you even feel him twitch between your legs. you grind on him, unable to control yourself. it is different than the wand. it's warm, and it responds back. it's better.

"hey," you call, slowly pulling away. "i don't want you to do this because you feel sorry for me or something like that. are you doing it because of that?"

"nah."

before you can continue bombarding him with questions and overthinking, he places his lips back on yours, this time a little rougher than before. you open your mouth, tongue eager to taste him properly. and fuck, he tastes good. you hated cigarettes and alcohol, but from his mouth, you adore it. you finally give in, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him impossibly close. finally.

it doesn't take long for him to have you whining and grinding on him, wanting more than just kissing and thigh grabbing and occasional choking. you beg into his mouth, quietly at first, but with each kiss he gives you, you become louder and more demanding.

"touch me, please, please, please," you're desperate.

he smiles, for the first time in a while, and snakes his hands under your top. you hurriedly take off the vest and the top, to make it easier for him, but he pulls his vest back on your body. you are now wearing nothing but panties and the leather vest, making daryl incredibly impatient.

"ya just needed some attention, didn't ya?" he kisses your neck, his hand cupping your breast and thumb playing with the hard nub. "some sense fucked into ya to shut that mouth."

for someone that almost never talks, he is quite the talker now. and you can't complain, when his words have you clenching around nothing down there.

"needed someone older to take care of ya."

you moan at his words, spreading your legs further and raising your hips into his crotch. his hand reaches down to your panties, landing a light slap on your clothed clit as a warning. there's growling outside of the shed, but not enough to make you care. you'll get what you want, and no amount of walkers will stop you, even if it'll be your last.

daryl moves your panties aside, pulling away from you to see you. he hums, thumb coming to contact with your clit and circling it a few times. you shake under his touch, throwing your head back. it isn't something you haven't done before, but the touch is foreign, and different. his fingers are rough and big, an opposite of the soft flesh of your clit. he rubs your slit up and down, enough to smear your arousal so he can touch you better.

"fuck..." you trail, grabbing the edges of the counter and digging your nails into the hard surface.

"didn't find a boy your age to open you up?"

you shake your head. he hums again, fingers now circling your tight entrance.

"that's a shame, then. i'm gonna have to take my time with you."

"what? why?" you ask, disappointed.

"i'd split you in half, little one."

every word in that sentence sent arrows to your core. fuck, just how big is he?

"then, what are we doing?"

he turns around, leaving you yearning for his touch while he grabs your discarded toy from the armchair.

"you share toys?"

"sometimes."

"good."

he pulls himself out from his pants, and you are left with your jaw dropped. it fuels his confidence, the way you're staring at him as he rubs himself up and down. he isn't big. he's huge.

"daryl, how will that fit in me?" you ask, actually concerned.

"it'll take a little time. i'll train ya, and you'll take it like a good girl, the way i teach ya. but ya have to start listening to me and stop pissing me off."

nodding eagerly, you push your hips towards his hands, searching for his touch again.

he turns the gadget on, pressing it against your clit. you moan out loud, grinding on the buzzing toy and sliding with ease. you hear him grunt, and even a quiet moan. your eyes drop to the situation between your legs, and when you see him pressing his cock to the gadget, you swear you could squirt all over him. he rocks his hips with yours, pushing you up against the wall and grunting in your mouth, just like you moan into his. he doesn't break eye contact with you, instead getting off on it.

"i'm gonna cum, daryl." you whine, hands reaching into his hair to pull.

"give me a second."

you'd give him two if he wanted. you try your hardest to focus on not yet cumming, but the way he sweats and grunts for you doesn't make it easy.

"daryl-" you warn, moans becoming high pitched and inviting the walkers around the shed.

he sticks two fingers in your mouth, keeping you silent and helping himself get closer. you only needed to swirl your tongue around him a few time and take him all the way to his knuckles to have him moaning and cumming all over your stomach, rubbing the toy up and down in a sloppy pace.

you follow, pleasure washing over your body along with a thin layer of sweat, the sight of his seed on you making it more intense. you are dehydrated, hot and filthy. and you love it, because he is the same. you'd be like that every day, if it meant getting him the way you just had him.

"you didn't have to..." you say as he helps you dress up, wiping his seed from you with his bandana and discarding it.

"i wanted to. before, today, too."

"you sure?"

"yes."

you nod. he sees that you are not convinced, and he sighs. he pulls you in for a hug, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"i rarely regret my actions. trust me."

"yeah, well, i hope i'll get more of these actions you speak of."

he chuckles, planting a kiss on your forehead.

"you know, for someone who just came all over me, it's weird to see you so sentimental and comforting."

you don't even finish the sentence, he already playfully throws the bandana at you, rushing outside to hide his smile and to hide from your attempt at attacking.

"oh, you- you- you asshole!"

"right back at ya."

***

yippie! my first twd oneshot, idk how to feel about it lol. had this in the drafts for a while now. feel free to send feedback, doesn’t matter if it is good or bad 🩷

#twd #twd imagine #twd smut #twd daryl #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl x y/n #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x female reader #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead smut

[dannyphantom-zero]

Doctor Danny chapter 3

Danny shivered as he drove to work. The feeling of being watched was way creepier than he expected. The worst part, he couldn't tell if it was all in his head or not.

Sometimes when he was younger he had felt like people were always watching him, turned out he was paranoid.

Danny shrugged it off and started work.

The second he was in he was pulled in ten different directions.

Danny had been treating a patient when on the TV the news was showing footage of a live battle. A bomb had gone off and rubble blocked the ambulance from getting to patients.

"NURSE! TAKE OVER" Danny shouted, he ran out of the patients room as soon as the nurse was there. That attack was still happening.

If Danny didn't do something those injured people were going to die.

"DOCTOR! WHERE ARE YOU GOING!" the head of the ward shouted.

"I'LL BE BACK WITH PATIENTS GET BEDS READY!"

The head didn't hesitate. Danny was infamous for not following orders but he never seems to fail a patient.

"You heard him! Get beds ready!"

The nurses and interns scrambled to ready as many rooms as possible.

Danny floored it to the location. A feeling of dread settled onto him. As soon as he hit the first rubble blockage his car door flew open. He started dragging the rubble out of the way.

The news reporter noticed Danny.

"Just coming into the scene, a mysterious unnamed man has jumped into the frey. He appears to be clearing the road."

The camera focused on Danny who had the road almost clear. Danny motioned for the ambulance to get closer.

Danny rushed further into the disaster area. He pulled the rubble off of pinned down citizens. Danny put as many patients as possible in the ambulance.

There were so many. He couldn't wait for another ambulance.

"This man is carrying two people at the same time! He's acting like a superhero!"

The head of the ward stared at the TV back at the hospital.

"Doctor, what are you?" He asked himself in wonder.

Danny had a worker from the ambulance drive his car back, he wasn't done here yet.

He thought he had heard it.

HELP PLEASE SOMEONE PLEASE I CANTBREATHE.

Yes, those were the scrambled screams from someone soul. If a person was put in an extreme situation, their soul in rare cases screamed.

This worked on Damners favor. Danny scanned the area and then he saw it. A mother and her child. The mother had protected the child and got pinned under falling rubble.

Danny hoisted the rubble off from her and thrust it aside.

The women would get more injuries if she were.moved carelessly. Danny grabbed a thick piece of nearby board.

He laid his coat on the board and put both hands under the women securing her. He hoisted her onto the boards and then used his belt to latch her to the makeshift gurney.

Danny was alone on this war front. He really didn't want to carry a critical patient alone but he had no choice.

"Hey kid, you gotta be quick. Run get out of this rubble and to the open street, if you do that I promise I'll get your mom out of here"

He nodded before sprinting away. Thankfully the women wasn't too heavy. Danny picked her up and do his best not to jostle her as he made his way through the wreckage.

They had nearly been out when a peace of cement fell from the sky. Danny quickly adjusted the women and thrust his fist into the concrete. It broke into smaller pieces, none hitting the patient.

Then they were out. Another ambulance was waiting there for him.

He transfered the women to the real gurney and sat on the ambulance. A soon as he got to the hospital he was running from patient to patient doing his best to swiftly treat each one.

The entire time one name kept repeating in his head. Joker.

The villain who had attacked, the villain documented to have taken the most lives. He needed to pay.

Danny sighed. He was standing on the hospital roof, a good place to go and think.

The patients were all stable and thankfully there were no deaths.

Danny drank his canned coffee and headed back in. What he saw was chaos. One of the patients had gone into shock suddenly and without warning.

Danny rushed to the ED with the patient. They started performing emergency surgery. On the end it was futile.

They could not save the patient.

"Time of death 1:23 AM" one of the other doctors said in a solemn tone.

Danny gritted his teeth and stormed out.

"DAAMM EEIIT, AAAAHHH!" Danny screamed once he was on the rooftop.

Tears streamed down his face. He lost a patient because of that damned psychopath!

Danny wiped his tears and made his way to the hospitals morgue.

"Let me see my patient" he had to help the soul pass on, it was his duty.

The soul looked like a cloud of blue mist. It glowed and swirled.

"Go, be in peace" it evaporated and Danny sighed.

"It's time for you to go home Danny, you need to rest. You've been working tirelessly and you just lost a patient"

Danny was frustrated because he knew the head was right. He had to throw away the cost and get a replacement because it was torn to the point that it was unrecognizable.

Danny sat in his car with his head pressed on his hands that were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

His car made a low rumble sound as he drove home. Once he got there he crawled into his sleeping bag and tried to forget.

Jason had been watching the fight, ready to jump in at any moment. Then he saw Danny, the way he had pulled those people out of there.

There was a clip that had been missed by the news. It wasn't a professional camera the way it kept shaking but through all the dust you could see a slab of concrete falling towards Danny and then he just... punched it.

Later he had heard that Danny's patient had died and he knew he needed to make a visit.

No doubt the doctor was blaming himself. He knew what it was like losing someone you were trying to save.

Jason slowly slid open Danny window. It's lock was faulty, he wondered if Danny knew that.

"Danny?"

He didn't respond.

"I know what it's like to lose a person like that, especially to joker"

Danny sat up and looked at Jason with rage burning in his eyes.

"If I ever meet Joker, I will tear his arms off"

Jason stared at Danny for half a second before grabbing his shoulders, "I knew I liked you!"

Jason let go and reached up to take his helmet off.

"Don't!" Danny said grabbing the helmet.

"Danny, I'm going to stalk you whether you know my identity or not"

Danny sighed and let go.

"Okay but what about the other vigilantes identities. Once I know yours, figuring out theirs won't be so difficult"

Jason paused, considering it.

"Meh, they'll be fine"

Danny shook his head.

"When I'm kidnapped and tortured and all of your identities get revealed, it won't be my fault" Danny said.

Jason grinned and took off the helmet.

Danny glanced at Jason. He didn't look half bad in terms of looks, he considered Red Hood to be pretty handsome.

"I don't recognize you at all" Danny said peering closer.

"Really? I'm Jason Todd"

Danny pulled back like he had touched something hot.

That name, Jason Todd was famous for his soul being reborn due to a hazardous pit called the Lazarus Pit. It must be eating away at him, probably destroying his mind.

"Shit" Danny muttered.

"What?" Jason asked.

Danny seemed conflicted.

"I am about to say something that's going to sound, in a word, insane"

Danny paused, "I'm only telling you this because I feel obligated to help you"

"Help me? How?" Jason asked with a sly smirk.

"With your situation" Jason had a blank look on his face.

"The Lazarus Pit that you fell into is contaminated. It's going to damage your brain"

Jason's eyes grew wide and Danny could see the sparks of the contaminated ectoplasm influencing Jason's emotions.

Before Jason could fly into a rage Danny grabbed him.

"Sorry, this is gonna hurt but I have to filter the ectoplasm"

Danny bit Jason's neck finding a vein. He began sucking out the contaminated ectoplasm, replacing with his own. He tried to think of it like a blood transfusion.

Jason was too stunned to do anything. The longer Danny was like that, the calmer Jason felt.

Finally Danny let go. He waited for a horrified look or a demand or anything.

But Jason seemed almost like he was in a trance.

"Jason?"

He snapped out of it, his hand flying to his neck.

"That felt...nice"

Danny sighed.

"I'm half ghost" Danny said.

Jason looked at him like he was dead.

"I was in an accident in my parents lab and sort of died, my DNA was mutated due to ectoplasm. It was the purest form."

"Your half dead?"

Danny nodded, "what I did was filter the Lazarus water and replace it with ectoplasm."

"Am I all good then?"

"Well no. I can't do it all at one time since it's mixed with the blood in your veins. If I did you could die"

Jason smirked.

"Oh noooooo" he said sarcastically, "looks like I'll have to come back"

Danny rolled his eyes.

"So are technically like a vampire ghost then"

"I am not a vampire!" Danny said.

"Sure, sure."

Danny sighed.

"So are gonna leave or what?" Danny asked.

Jason grinned.

"Naw, Imma stay right here"

Danny opened the window.

"Shoo"

Jason put a hand on his heart.

"Wow, I can see how welcome I am"

"I hope so"

Jason shook his head as he climbed out of the window onto the fire excuse, helmet secure on his head.

"You can't get rid of me Danny"

"I know, that's why I'm getting a restraining order"

"What?" Jason asked in alarm. Danny shut the window cutting off Jason's concerned cry.

Now THAT was satisfying.

Jason couldn't stop smiling. His new friend had the cure to his pit rage and had powers. Not only that, he was medically equipped so Jason wouldn't have to go to the hospital ever again!

It also worried him. Danny was too skilled, he was a big target for any villain.

Danny fell asleep and he slept deeply.

Danny was surprised to wake up to something other than his alarm the next day.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dc universe #batman #dpxdc #Jason Todd #Red Hood #fanfiction #phandom

[surielstea]

Caretaker

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary: Reader is sick & Az being the best bf ever

Warnings: slight suggestiveness, tooth rotting fluff

A/N: Literally wrote this when I was sick asf and high on cough medicine so I hope this makes sense 😭😭

2.2k words

My body tremors as another weak cough racks through me, my throat pulsing at the feeling. Watery eyes form tears, sliding down the bridge of my nose and dripping onto the plush pillow beneath my head.

I stare out the floor to ceiling window, marveling at the way the sidra morphs starlight into rainbow refractions. I sniffle, one of my nostrils completely closed off and making it a challenge to breathe. It was late. I didn't know the exact time but from the moons position in the sky I could guess it was far past midnight.

My mate hadn't come to bed and I debated clambering out of this all too hot bed to go and find him, wrap my arms around his waist and guide him back to our bed. But I can't expose him to whatever virus plagued me, in turn getting him sick, no matter how badly I missed his touch. It was already a risk to share the same bed, I couldn't push it.

Madja stopped by earlier and gave me a tonic to help ward off the cough but there was nothing she could do beyond that. I took the tonic minutes ago, the effects still settling in, I just hoped the cough would cease long enough for me to be able to fall asleep.

It's been days, my mate was convinced I was getting worse. He surveyed me like usual, but his gaze turned soft and pitiful every time a raucous cough came over me. Shadows kept me company, swirling fluidly against my back in a reassuring manner, the chill touch of them making me cool off from my heated state.

There was a soft knock at the door and I didn't have to look to know who it was. I adjusted under the covers, using my strength to sit up and lean against the headboard, teary eyed but making eye contact with the large winged male in the doorway. "Az." My voice was practically a whimper, a feeble excuse at calling for him.

"My love," He drew a long exhale, my sickness seemingly weighing on him as well.

"You can't be in here." I murmur, wiping my tears and wishing it was his hands instead of mine doing the act.

"I miss you." He offers me a soft smile as he tilts his head against the frame of the door, his silhouette from the hallway light made him look like some sort of angel.

"I don't want to get you sick." I shake my head, holding my arm out as if to shield him away but we both knew I held no power at the moment.

"It wouldn't be so bad," He tries to lighten the mood with a shrug. "I'd be off work, we could quarantine together. We'd read and cuddle and I could actually go within a ten feet radius of you." His words were convincing, and the idea has a smile tugging at my lips. That is until a croak of a cough rattles my body and I remember how irritating this illness is. I wouldn't want him to have this, ten foot radius or not.

"It's hard enough to stay away from you, don't tempt me." I sigh, allowing my bones to sink into the large matress.

"Worth a try." He mirrors my smile. "Do you need anything? Tea or soup?" He asks and I twist my lips to the side as I ponder what he could give me that would ever amount to how badly I want him and him alone. "A good book perhaps?" He arches a perfect brow. It pains me how well he knows me.

"A book would be nice." I hum and he pushes from the doorway, excited to accomplish a new task. His gaze lingers on me before he closes the door and his silent footsteps recede down the hall.

I look back out the window while I wait, fiddling with the mating ring around my fourth finger. My cough seemed to have settled, I'll have to tell my brother to increase Madja's salary for her admirable work — or maybe I'd pay her directly myself. As soon as I'm better I will, whenever that might be. I release a long sigh and allow my eyes to shut for a moment, I must've slept for half the day earlier but that didn't stop the rest from weighing at my heavy lids.

Before I dared slip into a sleep the spymaster opened the door with a multitude of items in his hands. I couldn't help but smile. The night courts intimidating Shadowsinger was at my door, with soup and tea and a book, taking care of me. He had one of the world's deadliest knife's at his thigh and he probably used it to cut open my tea bag.

"Az, I'm gonna cry." I warn. My already watery eyes verging on tears as I think about how much he does for me.

"No don't cry." His brows crease as he sits on his side of our bed, placing a bowl of soup down on my nightstand. "I tried to follow your mom's recipe but it won't be as good." He frowns and there's nothing more I want to do then kiss the pout off his perfect face. "And this is hot, so don't drink it for a few minutes." He places a steaming cup of tea beside the soup. "And this," He holds up a worn paper back book. "I went to Nesta and asked her for the best romance novel she could think of and she gave me this so." He places it on my lap. "Hopefully it's as smutty as you hope." He mutters beneath his breath and I flush hot but blamed it on my fever.

"Thank you." My voice was a rasp, he looked to my eyes. Hazel laced with love and admiration, the emotions reflecting on the golds and greens of his irises.

"Get some rest after eating, you have to get your strength up so I can get my sparring buddy back." He placed a hand on my forehead to check my temperature, something on his expression falls when he doesn't notice any difference from the last time he checked my temperature.

"Is Cassian not good enough anymore?" I scoff.

"He's not you." He huffs and an upside down smile spreads over my expression.

"I know you're sick but I really want to kiss you." He admits and just the idea makes me feel warmer inside. I grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him into me, his upper half hovering over me as I plant my lips onto his. I grin against the sensation, it's only been a few days but gods, how did I forget how perfect it felt to have his mouth against mine?

He pulls back first and I debate chasing him back but he pecks my forehead and I settle for it, leaning back onto my headboard yet again. "I'm going to finish up an assignment then I'll come to bed, okay?" He gets up from the bed and my eyes follow.

"Mhm." I nod tiredly.

"If I find you reading that book when I get back I'm taking it away." He warns and I bite my bottom lip mischievously.

"Goodnight lovely." A shadow tucks a strand of hair behind my ear as I watch him make his way to the door.

"Night Az." I muse in reply, already reaching for my bowl of the nostalgic meal.

—

About an hour later I had finished my entire bowl of soup and cup of tea. Both of them reminding me of my mother humming her favorite songs as she sewed her dresses, of Rhys teaching me how to fly before I could even walk, of Cassian brawling with my brother when he first moved in, and of Azriel's warm embrace.

I was curled into a ball with a mage light over my head, flipping through the pages of the romance novel Nesta lent me. It was a fantasy with just the right amount of erotica, the kind that would make any female flush. There were a few times when I'd have to close the book and take a breather before opening it back up, which meant it was perfection.

The door opened with a creak and I slammed the book shut the way a teenage boy might with a nude magazine. Azriel crinkles his brows at me and I look at him guiltlessly. "Evening handsome." I greet and he blinks at me like I'm crazy.

"Why are you being weird?" He utters, coming further into the room and closing the door behind him. I fold my lips inward to keep myself from laughing or possibly exposing that I was reading absolute filth just moments ago.

"Just reading." I shrug innocently and he narrowed his gaze in on me but seemed to let it go when striding over to the armoire to change. I watched him shamelessly as he stripped off his shirt, golden tan skin inked in swirling black. He shuffles through the drawers, giving me a full show of his muscular back and those large wings. My breath hitched as I stare without caution and a small chuckle sounds from him. He knows I'm watching, and at this point I can't find it in myself to care.

"Are you flexing on purpose?" I ask him as he discards his leathers for a pair of lounge pants.

"I'm not flexing love." He confesses and my stomach does backflips. Cords of muscle rippled from his shoulders down to his bulging arms, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't at least a little turned on. And he was just standing there. He turns to look at my tinged cheeks and it only makes me blush more. The eye contact just might kill me. The nonchalance and causality of it made my stomach churn, as if he wasn't standing there in front of me shirtless.

"You're teasing." I set my book on the nightstand and sink down into my pillows.

"How so?" His question is half a laugh because he knows what he's doing.

"I can't have you right now." I whine like some sort of child, pulling the blankets up and over my head so I don't have to look at his chest that seemed to be sculpted by the gods themselves. The bed sinks and I know he's now beside me. I can't help but gravitate towards him only to stop myself because I know cuddling would get him sick.

His strong arm wraps around my waist and pulls my back to his chest.

"No, Az I don't want to get you sick." I protest, pulling away with the weakest strength since the predicament at hand wasn't all too bad.

"I already told you I don't care if I get sick." He brings me in closer and who was I to deny my mate's embrace?

It was nice to lay beside him, nice to have his warmth radiating onto me. I missed him even if it's only been a few days, even if he still sleeps beside me every night. I missed the physicality of it. Azriel's never been one for touch but sometimes I go through phases where if I don't have my hands constantly on him I'd collapse.

So I allowed myself to lean into his chest, matching my breathing to his and intertwining my hand with his scarred one. "I love you." He hums into my shoulder, placing gentle kisses to the crook of my neck and a soft smile spreads across my lips.

"Would you still love me if—" I begin but he doesn't let me finish,

"Yes." His tone is confident and didn't waver for a beat.

"You don't even know what I was going to say." I pout and I feel him shake his head against me.

"As long as you're still you, I love you." He professes and I flip around to look at his golden eyes that the stars themselves were outmatched against.

"I love you too." My voice is a mere whisper but a wide grin takes over his face, revealing his dimples. His smile was so bright I thought for a moment that sun wouldn't rise in fear of rivaling it. "And I'm totally getting you sick." I threaten but he doesn't seem to mind, especially not when I lean forward a few inches in order to kiss that grin.

"Sleep, love." He coerced and pulls me into his chest, his wing draping over me like a blanket, blocking out any seeping light from the moon outside. "I'll be here in the morning." He muses, smoothing a scarred hand over my hair. He continues to play with the strands until I'm drifting off into that touch, his warmth inviting me to sleep.

Azriel was quick to follow, once he noticed my breathing even out. Shadows settle around us as his lids grow heavy and his weight falls into the bed. With me in his arms it was easier for him to sleep, the comfort of knowing I'm safe while in his hold pushed him further into that sweet relief of rest.

#azriel #sarah j maas #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #x reader #acomaf #fanfic #comfort fic #sickfic #im so lonely #i need him #suriels tea

[legendofzoodles]

This post is a little gory, reader discretion is advised.

Sky: Would you help me hide a body?

Hyrule: No I am not helping you! I want nothing to do with this!

Hyrule: [curious] ...But why? Is hiding bodies a fad in society now? Dang I'm really out of touch.

Sky: In what Hyrule is that a fad?!

Wild: [coughs]

—

Time: [sighing] I'm always cleaning up after you boys.

Sky: Wait Old man it was just—

Time: [pulling a trash bag from his adventure pouch] Where is it?

—

Wild: Hide...a body? O-Okay sure, I'll help you...

Wild: [muttering] Oh but not all of it I'm sure I could find uses for at least a few of the body parts...

—

Wind: [thumb up] Yeah of course! We'll just toss it into the ocean.

Sky: Ok but what if the Hyrule was landlocked...?

Wind: What if what? I'm a pirate.

Sky: Is that really how it works?!

—

Warriors: [polishing his sword] Huh? Dispose of a body? I can do that.

Sky: You...can?

Warriors: [glancing at his reflection] Eliminating traitors is a bit sporadic with its state funding so, I've had to get my hands dirty.

Sky: ...oh buddy.

—

Legend: Whose body is it? Under what circumstance? Who did the killing?

Legend: Sorry, I need to know if I should do it with enthusiasm or not.

Sky: [voice crack] Ledge...

Legend: Well I'm sorry, you keep telling me to find joys in life. I am trying!

—

Twilight: A-A body?! W-Why would you want me to...?!

Twilight: Wait, this one of Wild's pranks? Is he in that bush with his Sheikah Slate?

—

Four: [deadpan] Here's a list of ten efficient ways to dispose of a body.

Four: [very deadpan] It was my best self study project when I was a kid.

Four: [we all know this is Vio talking] The example body wasn't human, but that can't be too different.

Sky: [disturbed] ...No you can have it back. That question was just...

Warriors: [dutiful in improving his craft] Great can I have it?

—

Sky: Ok this is the last hypothetical! Between Wind's magic box thought experiment, Four's out of context question and this?! We're clearly really bad at these.

Twilight: Not sure what kind of responses you were expecting with that one to be honest.

Sky: ...You're right this one's on me.

~~~

Thanks for reading! Based off this

Sky got the fun hypothetical question from a friendly bar patron.

Wild coughed in that first one because with the restoration of his Hyrule ground in Hyrule field is being built on and, well, they are unearthing a lot of 100 year old skeletons. Not exactly hiding bodies, but...

Masterlist

#the rest of the colours are screaming for four to stop talking #Warriors' Hyrule doesn't have a shadowy organisation to do that #only he Impa and a select few can be trusted #linked universe #lu #linkeduniverse #lu wild #lu twilight #lu four #lu time #lu warriors #lu wind #lu hyrule #lu sky #lu legend #lu headcanons #lu incorrect quotes #linked universe headcanon #linked universe headcanons #linked universe incorrect quotes #lu memes #lu meme #lu angst #lu fic ideas #lu fic idea

[jymwahuwu]

I feel like I have goldfish memory but good news, I remembered what scenario I was thinking about for once.

So what if reader was trapped in a samsara like the sabzeru festival (is that how you spell it?) But instead of a festival setting it's the day where she got kidnapped by our beloved general.

On this day she got kidnapped it was just supposed to be another ordinary day but then the kidnapping happens and the next morning she sees that's she's back at home and now throughout the day she's been trying to find different ways to prevent the event but always fail in the end.

The only twist here is that Jing Yuan starts to notice how we start to predict his moves and whatever he's going to do so he starts to catch onto what's happening and tries to stop us from going into another samsara but since we don't know that he knows about this time loop he just pulls a move that we weren't expecting and kidnaps us again.

Idk if you've done this but my ✨insomnia✨ ain't letting me sleep till I type this whole thing out 😭

🍰anon

I'm starting to worry about your sleep 🍰anon 😭🥺 You seem to be as sleep deprived as me.

And never thought time loops could be so interesting! This reminds me of a gaslighting post I read before where a girl broke up with her boyfriend and he kept manipulating her by pretending that they never broke up. But this is really a time loop >_<

-CW: yandere, kidnapping, non-con, breaking into your home

On the day of the kidnapping, the sky was overcast, and the continuous dark clouds organized and gathered, swallowing up the sun. Just an ordinary day, a rainy day. The lights of passing spacecraft and the crowds. You complete your daily activities as usual, such as working/resting/shopping/walking/dining. Opening the door, you took off your shoes and packed your rain gear in the hallway, not noticing anything unusual at home…and then…you fell into a coma.

When you wake up, you're in a luxurious room with a cute cartoon tape covering your mouth. You mumbled something incoherent, thrashing around in panic. The huge figure turned - who was that? Who is that? This stranger had long, layered white hair, broad shoulders, and muscles that seemed to be hidden under the armor and cloth. As soon as he saw you waking up, he immediately approached you and spoke softly. "Oh, you're awake. I've already taken a bath for you. Don't worry." The rain fell pattering outside the general's mansion.

What bath? What bath!? For you? Your eyes widened, tears of horror running down the tape. A flash of lightning flashed across your face quickly and then disappeared. Jing Yuan held your face and looked at it for a while before kissing the tape on your lips. "Sh- don't be afraid. I'll be good to you."

If you respond tactfully, there's a chance you won't get fucked immediately on the first day. After a good night's sleep, you find yourself back home, like you've never been kidnapped!! You thought you were having an immersive dream and didn't care, but you've been kidnapped again. What happened happened again.

Check the time on your phone:

[same date].

You have searched several times and calendars on the Internet, but all of them are stuck on that day and have not moved forward. Maybe this is an opportunity to change the kidnapping? You start searching and investigating who that person really is. Of course, Jing Yuan told you the name (lovers will know each other's names.) You found his introduction on the Space Online public think tank… Uh… Jing Yuan is one of Xianzhou's generals.

Xianzhou Alliance, isn’t that a well-known space civilization alliance? He kidnapped you…does anyone believe it?

Within the time loop of the same day, you tried more than ten ways and routes to avoid being kidnapped, including returning home at different times, sleeping at a friend's house, preparing weapons, taking friends home, renting a hotel room to rest, etc. . Without exception, all failed. He can always resolve and recognize your defenses and lead you away.

Jing Yuan actually knows this time loop and all the struggles and precautions you take. He can't help but see how far you can go, how smart you can be, but doesn't want you to actually escape his chessboard.

Until, after you were kidnapped again, you thought you would wake up and return home…but no. Moreover, Jing Yuan has found a way to end this day's time loop, preventing you from entering another loop. He has Xianzhou technology support after all. You look around the room - this is still the General's mansion.

Why?

Jing Yuan enjoys the fruits and sweetness of victory. Putting you at his mercy - stopping your resistance, his warm palm rubbed between your swollen thighs, spreading your buttocks. He holds you with your legs spread forward, holding you like you were a cute puppy, and penetrates you with his cock. Your heart skipped a beat at his words.

"The only timeline is that we fell in love."

#jing yuan x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere jing yuan #yandere jing yuan x reader #honkai x reader

[ddejavvu]

Mei!!! I went to get my hair done at a random place because the usual person I go to wasn’t available this week and the lady cut my hair too short :( I asked for a trim of my curtain bangs and she gave me bangs. Just cut straight across. I’m so sad about it. Could I maybe get a little something with Jake x reader where this happens and he comforts her <3 thanks my love

i'm sorry sweetheart that sucks!!! jake loves you though <3

--

"It's not that bad." Jake insists, holding your chin in his hands and studying the harsh line of hair cut across your forehead, "They're just bangs, darlin'."

"But they're not what I wanted!" You protest, your voice weak from emotion and your nose slightly runny, "Jake, she was supposed to trim the ones I had, not chop a whole new set into my head!"

"I know." He soothes, leaning down to kiss your forehead. He has to fumble with the intrusion of your new bangs to get his lips onto your skin, and that does it for you.

"You can't even kiss my forehead anymore!" You wail, tears that had been teetering on the precipice of spilling down your cheeks for minutes finally doing so. They cascade down your skin in glistening rivulets that Jake's nimble hands rush to clear away, his skin slightly rough against yours even if his touch is gentle.

"Hey, hey! Hey, it's okay," He promises, "Hey, darlin', I'll make it work. Here," He tilts your face towards the sky, leaning down where he's standing between your legs while you perch at the edge of the bed, "There we go." He smooths the palm of his hand up under your bangs, flipping the short strands of hair so that they stick up off of your head. He presses what must be at least ten kisses to your skin's now-exposed surface, which ought to soothe you, but when he lets the hair fall it's a mess, bent and mussed out of shape.

"Okay, uh-" Jake fumbles for your bedside table where he knows you have a pocket brush, "Here! Here, darlin', nothin' to worry about. Just gonna brush that down," He mumbles, jaw clenched in concentration as he fixes your bangs with a few swipes of the brush at your forehead, "There! All fixed, darlin'."

"You can't do it in public anymore," You lament, seemingly hellbent on finding the worst in your new hairstyle, "You'll have to mess my hair up and then it'll look bad."

"I can do it wherever I want," Jake decides, plunging the tiny brush into the pocket of his jeans, "See? I'll get another one from the store next time we go, 'n carry it around with me. That way I can kiss your forehead whenever I want. Okay? It's okay, honey."

You can't muster up any complaints to that. He's right, and his dedication to holding a brush on him at all times just to kiss your forehead is heartwarming. Still, you're grumpy, and he knows it.

"Hey, this might be better, actually," Jake muses, sitting by your side and letting you slump over onto his broad shoulder.

"How, Jake?"

"This way it's like a barrier." He explains, pushing your bangs up to kiss your forehead once more, then smoothing them out with the brush, "They're like kiss protectors, darlin'. That way nothin' can rub off my kiss without goin' through your bangs first."

"Kiss protectors?" You echo after a moment of deliberation, "Jake, you're trying really hard, aren't you?"

"Is it working?" He asks feebly, and the tension in his chest seeps out when you huff out a laugh.

"Yeah." You concede exasperatedly, feeling the foreign tickle of your kiss protectors brushing against your forehead as you lean against Jake's shoulder, "Yeah, babe, it's working."

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #hangman fanfiction #hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x y/n #top gun x reader #top gun maverick x reader

[munchmemes]

hozier lyrics, unheard edition

❛ it can't be said i'm an early bird. it's ten o'clock before i say a word. ❜ ❛ how do you sleep so well? ❜ ❛ you keep telling me to live right. to go to bed before the daylight but then you wake up for the sunrise. ❜ ❛ you know you don't gotta pretend. ❜ ❛ don't you just wanna wake up dark as a lake, smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze? ❜ ❛ if you're drunk on life, babe, i think that's great. ❜ ❛ while in this world, i think i'll take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three. ❜ ❛ you're too sweet for me. ❜ ❛ i aim low, i aim true and the ground's where i go. ❜ ❛ i work late where i'm free from the phone and the job gets done. ❜ ❛ but who wants to live forever, babe? ❜ ❛ you treat your mouth as if it's heaven's gate. the rest of you like you're the TSA. ❜ ❛ don't get me wrong, you know you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain, pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape. ❜ ❛ everything in my vision is movement and life. ❜ ❛ springtime in the country, i can smell summer on its breath. ❜ ❛ everything in my vision, departure and death. ❜ ❛ this year, i swear it will be buried in actions. ❜ ❛ this year, i swear it will be buried in words. ❜ ❛ i feel as useful as dirt. ❜ ❛ put my body to work. ❜ ❛ the sun hesitates more on each evening's darkening with all things god allows remain above ground. like grief and sweet memory. ❜ ❛ sun coming up on a world that's easy now. ❜ ❛ after all, darling, i wouldn't sell the world the way things are turning. ❜ ❛ if it falls, i would hold on for all it's worth. ❜ ❛ the future's so bright it's burning. ❜ ❛ the martyrs of our revolution, their spinning caused the earth to shake. ❜ ❛ the problem brought its own solution. ❜ ❛ i wouldn't fare well. hedgehog-under-a-van-wheel kind of wouldn't fare well. ❜ ❛ i'll take any high. ❜ ❛ i'll take any solitary pleasure that was sorrow in disguise. ❜ ❛ let the sun shine on me through a falling sky, i'll be alright. ❜ ❛ i'll deny me none while i'm allowed. ❜

#rp meme #rp starters #sentence starters #lyrics rp starters #lyrics starters #roleplay meme #lyrics rp meme #lyrics meme #ask meme

[p0ssywhippedcream]

Apollo + love at at first sight ?! It's cliche, corny and kinda dumb, but hell if I don't want to see what you can do with it cuz it's just too cute for me to not ask!

A coffee shop, the best part of Apollo's day. It's about four in the morning and there are currently two customers inside it. You and him.

You're perched on a squeaky chair, a cup of hot cocoa cooling in your hand as you type on your laptop with your other. One leg is folded under another, creating a half criss-cross and your hair is messy as you brush a piece out of your face. And like always, you're the first thing Apollo notices.

He comes here every morning to get a pick-me-up cup of Joe before the exhausting job of driving the sun and he's noticed that every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, he can count on your presence by the window.

You're a college student; the constantly tired eyes, inevitable personal library and your university's name printed in bold on your sweatshirt prove it. Despite having all the reasons to be cranky, you're a wonderfully cheery and warm person.

Sometimes Apollo comes in before you and when that happens, he stands against the wall, sipping his to-go cup as he watches the door. When you come in, you wave at the workers and greet them by name, always finding his eyes and giving him a soft smile and a tilt of your head.

Gods, he's so in love with you. He has been since that Saturday you wandered in with books and stress piled in your hands. You had noticed him waiting for his order besides you and complimented his sun glasses.

"Do you not like the sun?" You followed it up with.

He chuckled, "Oh no, the sun is a beauty but I've got enough of it as is."

You gave him a curious grin, "I don't think I'll ever get enough of the sun. It's my favorite part of my day, you know, watching it rise in the sky."

His tan cheeks turned a shade redder than usual. "Is that so?"

"Yeah," Your name is called and you plucked your drink from the counter, "It reminds me of tomorrow. As long as the sun keeps coming up, I will always have another chance."

You handed him his cup that had been waiting patiently and unseen on the counter top and cheers-d him.

"I can see why you don't want it any more though," The words floated over your shoulder as you swayed to your already-claimed table, "You've got a nasty sunburn."

Apparently, his blush had been worse than he thought.

Today, you looked more relaxed than usual. You also looked like you got a full eight hours of rest, which was new. Apollo traced your figure with hearts in his eyes as he waited for his order.

You finished a sentence, took a swing of hot cocoa and looked up for the first time in ten minutes. Your eyes found his and instantly lit up, a gentle smile played on your lips as you gave him a short wave.

He took that as his cue to come over.

"Whatcha working on?" He asked once he was close enough, about a foot away from your table.

"My final for English. You have to write about something that inspires you." Apollo opens his mouth to talk but is interrupted by his name, echoed by a worker as they hold out his coffee. He excuses himself, and returns quickly with the cup pressed to his lips.

"So, what inspires you?" He asks, and he really wants to know.

"You."

His breath stops, he might've died if he was mortal. That's the power you have over him.

"Me?"

"You come here everyday. You wear the same clothes, same glasses, same expression. The decor changes from season to season, new workers come and go and new customers try new drinks. But you're constant."

His head is tilted as he looks down at you. You're sure of your assessment but it's not mean as you say it, your words kissed with your stunning smile as they leave your mouth.

"I'm constant." He repeats.

"I count on you, Apollo," It's the first time you've said his name, obviously knowing it from baristas. The effect is has on him is embarrassing, his cheeks burning easily, "You're what I know I will find in the morning. You're my sun, even if you weren't named after the god of it."

Suddenly, your cheeks redden as you realize what you've said to a practical stranger. Your eyes fall from where they had stayed on his up until now.

"I happen to be more than named after the sun god, but I appreciate the compliment." He gives you a shiny smile and you return it, albeit a littler shyer.

"And anyways, I feel the same about you. You make my mornings. At least, my mornings on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays."

You giggle and meet his eyes again. Mirth, joy and something deeper dances in there and your smile grows. You reach across the table and move several books out of the way, gesturing for him to sit across from you.

Apollo places his to-go cup on the wood and plops down with a new conversation starter already on his tongue. The rest of the world could wait for him, but you've waited enough. And the sun always shines on those he loves.

#oph.posts #oph.thoughts #oph.anons #pjo hoo #pjo #pjo hoo toa #pjo fluff #pjo x reader #pjo x reader fluff #pjoverse #percy jackson series #apollo #pjo apollo x reader fluff #apollo x reader #pjo apollo #apollo x reader fluff #pjo apollo x reader #apollo fluff #pjo apollo fluff #pjo x you #pjo x you fluff #pjo x y/n #pjo x y/n fluff #apollo x you #apollo x you fluff #apollo x reader pjo #pjo apollo x you #pjo apollo x you fluff #pjo apollo x y/n

[winniemaywebber]

The Apple Tree 🌳

part 1/6

Rosie Rosenthal x Reader

(gif by @echoinyourshadow)

Y/N, a school teacher, meets Robert "Rosie" Rosenthal in the village pub.

“Oh, Lord, be careful, Harrison,” you start, already running towards the small yet gangly boy hanging off the tree branch. He laughs at your frightened expression, showing that he was just teasing you.

“I'm fiiiiine, Miss Y/N,” he giggles, swinging on the branches like a little monkey. “Look at meeeeee!” You can't help but laugh at the young boy, the sunshine on his face as he swings to and fro. His other classmates are milling around the field, playing games together such as tag, jump rope, cats cradles and someone had even chalked a hopscotch grid on the small patch of cement exposed towards the end of the field.

A rumbling sound causes everyone to look up, seeing ten planes flying up into the cloudless blue sky.

“There they go,” a girl says, the string of the cats cradle on her fingers untangling due to her distraction. “Miss Y/N, I counted ten. Was I right?”

“You certainly are right, Penelope. And let's count ten again in a few hours when they all return. Right, back inside, everyone,” you shout to get everyone's attention, clapping your hands thrice. “It's time to carry on with our reading time.”

The afternoon sun begins to cool down as the day progresses, which you're glad of. Keeping seventeen small children focused during the few sweltering days of British summertime sure was quite the task, but you did enjoy seeing their sweet faces light up at the mention of extra playtime, or even, outdoor lessons where you'd let them dig rocks, look through their little magnifying glasses at little critters and bugs they'd found, and read under the apple tree.

It's towards the end of the day that you all once again hear the rumble sound that had become all too familiar over the last few months. You pause at your blackboard, the chalk in your hand hovering over it as the sound gets louder, causing the building to shake slightly. You turn, smirking, with a twinkle in your eye as your students get ready to rush out the door, yet wait for your instruction to do so.

“Go on, then!” you say, chuckling at their excitement to see the planes land. A cheer erupts as the planes fly overhead, all the children counting in unison.

“One…two…three,” you look up, hand shielding your eyes from the sun and squinting slightly, silently hoping to see all ten planes arrive.

“Seven…eight…nine…”

“Just one more,” you whisper to yourself, teeth gritted suddenly.

“TEN! That's ten!” The kids begin cheering, some even hugging one another. You breathe a huge sigh of relief, glad of not having to explain the potential consequence of planes going missing today.

“Bye, Miss Y/N! Have a good weekend!”

“Thank you, Harrison. You, too! Say hello to your mother for me. Let her know I'll be stopping by with a pie this weekend. I owe her for fixing my skirts!” He nods, hand held out towards you.

“Picked this for you.” He is holding a shiny red apple, the first from the school's apple tree. You place a hand to your chest, suddenly overcome with emotion.

“Thank you, darling. That's so kind. Now, off you go before mum begins to worry!”

You begin to bike home, taking this opportunity to breathe in the remainder of the summer, the leaves of the trees blowing in the beautifully soft breeze. These poor Americans had only experienced two seasons the entire time they'd been here: pouring rain or unnecessarily humid and hot, which reminded you that at least England was sticking to its regular schedule. Soon enough, this beautiful weather would be a distant memory, the countryside once again turning wet, muddy and mostly sludge.

You're almost home when you spot your friend Sally running alongside your bicycle.

“Hi, Y/N,” she calls, jogging next to you. “Are you still coming tonight?”

You push the brake on your bike, coming to a stop just outside your cottage and fiddling with the gate.

“Yes! What time?”

“I was thinking around 7. We can walk there together!”

“Wonderful. See you then, doll!”

You settle into your favorite armchair once inside the house, the grill heating up your toast, the kettle about to whistle as it reaches a boil. Spreading homemade lemon curd on your toast and adding milk and sugar to your tea, you sit back down with a magazine, mulling over what to wear this evening. It was finally Friday, and the evening you'd venture to the village pub with your friends for your weekly catch up.

Standing in front of your wardrobe, you run your hands through the soft material of your favorite dresses, choosing the first one to catch your eye. A sage green dress, fitted at the waist and flowing into a beautiful skirt that you liked to think mimicked the petals of a flower. You let down your hair from the scarf that had kept it contained all day while teaching, running your hands through it as it falls about your shoulders, shining thanks to the evening sunlight streaming through your window. With one more swipe of mascara and a little dab of blush, you're ready right on time as you hear knuckles softly rap the wooden door to your tiny cottage.

“Hi, doll! Oh, you look wonderful!”

“Thanks, Sally,” you say, smiling back at her. “You do, too! Is that a new dress?”

“It sure is,” she replies, her eyes sparkling slightly.

“And would that be for anyone in particular?” You joke, poking at her shoulder slightly.

“Maybe…” she replies, wistfully. “Now, come on, I don't want to keep James waiting.”

“Oh, yes,” you respond, winking jokingly. “We wouldn't want to have James stood up.”

Arriving at the pub, you see James out front in his uniform. Sally squeals, running into his arms quick as a flash. “Hi, honey,” you hear him say, his thick Tennessee drawl cutting through the air, still unusual to hear around here. He kisses her on the cheek and winks at you. “Hey, Y/N. Good to see ya.”

“And you, James!” He opens the door for you both and walks over to the bar to join his friends who poke at him, making fun of him sweetly.

Your friends wave, gesturing for you and Sally to come over, and you sit down to join them. James runs back over with two drinks in his hand: a red wine for Sally and a small beer for you. You look up at him gratefully, thankful for his kindness and willingness to treat his girlfriend's friends so nicely.

An hour passes, you and your friends knee deep in village gossip, eyes wide and hands gesturing wildly when you notice the door open out of the corner of your eye. In walks the most handsome man you've ever seen: brown, soft curls that compliment his baby blue eyes perfectly. His mustache, trimmed to perfection, suits his face extremely well. He smiles towards his friends, showing two rows of perfect white teeth, his smile taking your breath away.

“Oh my gosh. Who is that?” You murmur to the table. All four of your companions turn their heads to get a better look, all looking back at you with the same expression. “Good golly,” one replies. “He is incredibly handsome. Shame I'm married…” she titters, hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle.

“Now, now, lady,” you tease. “He'll be back soon enough. You don't need to surprise him with an American upon his return.” You can't seem to tear your eyes away from this handsome man, though, feeling your body grow warm with every movement he makes, the heat going from the pit of your stomach up to your face causing you to have to press your cool hand to it.

The man turns around from the bar, taking a sip of his drink when he catches you staring at him. You look down at the table, suddenly embarrassed, your face reddening even more. You feel Sally elbow you softly. “Y/N, he's coming over,” she squeals. “Oh, goodness, he's coming over.”

Before you know it, he's stood in front of you with his hand outstretched towards you. “Ma'am,” he says nervously, a sweet smile on his face. “Would you like to dance?” Trying your best to not squeak with excitement and embarrass yourself, you nod, swallowing.

“Yes, please.”

You can't help but smile as he slowly twirls you around the small dancefloor, soft jazz being played on the stage opposite you.

“What's your name?”

“Y/N, Y/L/N,” you respond, hoping your hand on his shoulder will keep you upright. “And you?”

“Rosenthal, Robert Rosenthal. The fellas call me Rosie.”

“It's nice to meet you, Mr Rosenthal. What is it you do?”

“Call me Rosie, please. I'm a pilot.”

“Oh, amazing!” You reply. “The kids and I were watching you all fly back in today. We were very glad to count all ten aircraft.” He looks at you, confused for a moment. “I'm a teacher at the local school. The kids are my students,” you reassure him.

“Whew,” he blows out air from his mouth, his cheeks puffing comically. “Had me worried there.” You giggle at his expression, your eyebrows slightly raised. “Glad there's no need to duel a man over a pretty girl.”

The next couple of hours are spent sat together, sharing stories of your lives. He tells you of how he was a lawyer prior to enlisting, where he grew up and where he went to school. You share how you grew up right here, a beautiful childhood in the countryside and how you've just inherited your grandmother's cottage, working on making it feel more like your own. You can't help but smile at him, your eyes intently staring into his as he shares small tidbits of his life with you, you always being curious of places away from East Anglia.

“May I walk you home, Y/N?” he asks, as he sees you stifle a yawn and the landlord rings the bell for last orders.

“I'd love that, Rosie. Yes, please.” You turn and quickly wave goodbye to your friends, the girls quietly cheering as you leave on Robert's arm.

He holds the hand you've placed in the crook of his arm, his other hand holding his hat, allowing you to go slightly ahead of him in order to direct him. However, you walk as slow as you can to savor every last moment with him, the light of the moon shining in his gorgeous hair, the stars in the night sky looking so similar to his beautiful eyes. You walk in companionable silence, reaching the cottage within a few moments.

“Thank you for walking me home, Robert. I had a really lovely time with you.”

“Me, too, ma'am,” he replies, fiddling with his sleeve slightly. “May I see you again?”

“I'd be delighted,” you smile, blushing slightly. He steps forward and takes your hand, kissing it softly before repeating the same action on your warm cheek.

“G'night, Y/N. I sure hope I see you again soon.”

“Goodnight, Rosie.”

#masters of the air #mota #masters of the air fic #mota fic #rosie rosenthal fic #rosie rosenthal x reader #rosie x reader #winnie writes

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Lokabrenna

(1-?)

Short story # 16

✨Fandom(s) - Vikings & The Last Kingdom

💍Pairing - Osferth X Reader

🕯Summary - After many years, you and your brothers are reunited with your father, King Ragnar. Along side him are two men you've never met. And when met face to face with your father, you unleash your rage of being abandoned.

⚠️Warning(s) - Talk of mutilation, near death experience, abandonment, and that's about it I think.

📝Note(s) - Okay so I randomly started brewing this story in my head. I've watched all but like the last season of Vikings, and this story will have little to do with the storyline up until the point Ragnar comes back. Now I've never watched The Last Kingdom, I want to start watching it soon, but as I am writing this piece I haven't watched any. So this crossover will be interesting to say the least. Oh and I apologize but I am writing this with the idea that the reader is about 6'7", and in time I'll explain why in later notes. But for the most part this won't be mentioned, but it will pop up every so often. Reader is also described to have emerald green eyes, dark hair the first two things being things from her mother, and scars she obtained as a girl. Other than that the readers image is up to you. So the read is kinda like an OC but with your name, and the majority of your image. Oh and in this story the Norse Gods are real, and several will be involved in this story. But some things to do with the Gods isn't actually a part of Norse mythology, I'm just bending some of it to work best with the story. (Thank you for taking the time to read the notes if you have.)

🗝Key information - Lokabrenna meaning Loki's Torch in this story. (Eventually it will make perfect sense.)

🌬Year posted - 2022

📖Reading time roughly - Ten minutes.

🙈Rating - SFW/NSFW

◈ Part 1.) | Part 2.) |

🎧Playlist to listen to while reading.↓↓↓

Sparing with Björn was something (Y/n) indulged with most days, as he was the only one of her brothers willing to spar with her, and the only one that would push her to better her skills. Though her twin, Ivar would likely spar with her and push her to be the best, his legs prevented him from being able to do as much as Björn could. The others watched their eldest brother fought with their little sister, who wasn't quite so little, as she stood roughly four inches above Björn. Ubbe chuckled when (Y/n) slammed her shield into Björns, making the blond stumble back several inches. "You can do better than that." (Y/n) taunted her brother, blocking his sword and countering swiftly, her blade resting beside his neck. "Honestly I'm beginning to think you are getting old brother." She teased, making the others snicker on the sidelines. Björn scoffed with a grin, breaking away from her and beginning the fight again.

"King Ragnar has returned." A voice called out, the words making (Y/n)'s stance falter, giving Björn the opportunity to trip her, making her land face first into the dirt. "Shit." Björn muttered under his breath, realizing his mistake, he tossed his shield and sword aside. The others approaching as she rolled onto her back, looking to the blue sky with glossy emerald eyes. "I didn't mean to-" She cut Björn off. "It isn't that." She closed her eyes for a moment, only opening them again when Ivar brushed her hair away from her eyes. "He doesn't know she is alive." Ivar reminded their brothers in a soft tone, making the eldest sigh with realization. Björn offered his hand to (Y/n), pulling her to her feet when she accepted his offer. "Well then, he will be surprised hm." The blond patted her shoulder affectionately, smiling when she chuckled at that. "Come on then, let's go see the old man." She dusted herself off then followed behind her brother's, keeping pace with Ivar as she always would.

The growing crowd parted for the arrival of the Princes and Princess, allowing Ragnar to see his children for the first time in many years. The shock apparent when his eyes laid on (Y/n), who stood tall beside her brother's, trying to suppress her emotions. "(Y/n)." Ragnar breathed out her name, tears welling in his eyes at the sight of his only surviving daughter. Ragnar approached her with slow steps, as if he was afraid she would vanish if he approached to quickly. "Little (Y/n)." He smiled taking in the sight of her. "Not so little any more." He remarked with a grin, his eyes casting to her left where Ivar sat, his pointer finger curled around (Y/n)'s, something they had done since birth for comfort. "Hello Ivar." Ragnar smiled down at his youngest son, and for a moment Ivar mirrored his smile, until (Y/n) suddenly shoved Ragnar away. The crowd grew deathly silent, watching the scene unfold before them.

"You left me." She hissed lowly, looming over her father. "I didn't-." Ragnar tried, but she stalked forward, putting her face into his. "You left me for dead." (Y/n) growled quietly, fire practically glowing within her emerald orbs. "I thought you had died." He argued. "I called out to you, I screamed so you would hear me. And yet you left me to burn in that dragons fire." Her gaze cast to the two strange men accompanying the King. "Let me guess, this is the boy you took in after you abandoned me?" She accused, Ragnar's eyes shimmering with shame. "You left all of us, but you would raise this stranger as if he were your own." She scoffed. "You think we did not know? That we didn't keep an eye on you? That we wouldn't hear about the young warrior claiming to be another son of King Ragnar?" She straightened her back, looming over her father once more. "You are no King, and you are no father, you are just an old man wallowing in self pity." She hissed before turning her back on him.

"I am your father, and I am your King!" Ragnar yelled, his anger only fueling (Y/n)'s rage. She quickly spun on her heel, and Björn tried catching her arm as she moved to swing. He failed in holding her back, instead he only pulled two of her rings off before her fist collided with Ragnar's jaw, the warn man fell to one knee, blood oozing from his lip. "You stopped being my father when you left me for dead, and you are a worthless King that even the Gods do not recognize." Her voice boomed over the crowd, and as quickly as she had said that, she stormed off. Shoving her way through the crowd, unaware of her brother's following her. Björn crouched down to pick up (Y/n)'s rings, which had fallen to the ground. While Uhtred and Osferth helped Ragnar to his feet, despite the old King's demands to be left alone. "You are not the man I once knew." Björn commented as he rose to his feet, looking his father in the eyes. "Like (Y/n)... I cannot forgive you for what you did to her." He added before walking away, intent on joining his siblings again.

(Y/n) began her trek into the woods, her sword secured to her hip, and her large grey cloak fastened around her shoulders. "Princess wait a moment." Uhtred called out as he and Osferth jogged after her into the woods. "Why should I even speak to you?" She glowered at the man, who looked almost sheepish before her. "I'm sorry." He offered, which only confused her. "Why are you sorry?" She questioned. "Because of your father." He explained. "I am not angry at my father for raising you... I am angry that he so easily abandoned me and my brothers. And yet instead of coming home, with or without you, he stayed out there and pretended as if he wasn't a King, as if he didn't have his own children to care for." She turned away and began walking again, only for the men to follow her. "You said he left you for dead? I had assumed he left you here with your brothers." He spoke up again, his words causing her to stop again. "My father took me with him when he ran away from Kattegat, I was to young to understand what was happening." She pulled her hood down, properly observing the two.

"I was with him for two years, we lived in a cabin far from here. One evening while he was out hunting a dragon descended upon the cabin. It set the cabin on fire while I was trapped inside, I cried out for my father to save me, but he never came. The dragon had left as quickly as it came, and I was left alone to burn alive." The smaller of the two grimaced at her words. "I found myself trapped in the best place however, as the smoke could not reach me. When part of the wall finally crumbled to the ground, I crawled as best I could out of the cabin. I was weak, and burnt badly. The sky was dark by this point, and my father nowhere in sight." She licked her lips before continuing. "I did the only thing I could think to do, I wept for the Gods. Praying that one of them would hear me, and offer me aid. The wolf God Fenrir heard me, and sent his sons Hati and Sköll to aid me. They found me and used what little magic they could to mend my wounds, which did very little, but it kept me alive long enough for them to bring me home."

She pulled to cord of her cloak, allowing it to fall to the ground. "They ran for seven days and eight nights with me atop Hati until they reached Kattegat. They broke into my families long house, with me on the brink of death, and the moment my mother laid eyes on me she knew what had happened. For she dreamt about it the very same night it happened. She sent for healers from far and wide, and with their help I was nurtured back to health. I bare the scars of my father's negligence, and can never forgive him for it." She turned her back to the men, and quickly swept her shirt up to show them, the mass amount of burnt skin stretched across the expanse of her back. "Gods." Uhtred muttered under his breath, the both of them stunned by the sheer amount of tattered skin, each wondering how she could survive such a thing. The sound of a branch snapping caught their attention, and just as her brothers walked into view (Y/n) dropped her shirt, now facing her brother's.

"You are going to see him aren't you? To pay tribute?" Ubbe asked as she picked up her cloak. "I am." She nodded her head in agreement. "We're coming with you." Björn stated. "Why?" She wondered. "We wish to give thanks to the ones who saved you." Ivar cut in, moving around Ubbe to sit at her feet. "Hvitserk, Sigurd, why are you coming? Neither of you have ever seemed to care much about me." She tilted her head, her words making Hvitserk scoff. "You are still our sister." Sigurd argued. "We care more deeply than you think." Hvitserk added. "Okay... You can all come with me." She smiled at her brother's, her gaze casting to Uhtred and Osferth when Uhtred cleared his throat. "Who are you going to see?" He questioned. "Fenrir wolf." Her words stunned them both for a moment. "We shall come as well." Uhtred insisted. "And why is that?" (Y/n) questioned. "I feel that we must." He vaguely explained, making (Y/n) arch a brow at him.

"If that is what you wish, then so be it." She turned her attention then to Ivar. "I shall carry you Ivar, this is a long journey, and I do not wish for you to suffer." She knelt before him. "So you shall suffer instead?" Ivar argued stubbornly. "I will happily suffer for you dear brother." She assured him, before playfully bumping her forehead against his. Only turning her back to him when he grinned at her, and effortlessly she hoisted her twin onto her back, and rose to her feet. "We will not be back until tomorrow evening." She warned them, half expecting Uhtred and Osferth to turn back. A faint grin ghosting her lips when they continued to follow her lead deeper into the woods. "I didn't expect Fenrir to be so close to Kattegat." Uhtred remarked. "He isn't. But one of the passageways to him is." (Y/n) explained, the entire encounter leaving Osferth confused in his silence, though he continued to follow his friend regardless of his doubts.

← Previously | Continue →

◈ Part 1.) | Part 2.) |

⚜ Leave a comment and let me know what you think, and if you'd like to be tagged in future parts of this story. - Jaded Monkey🐒

#short story #extended #vikings #the last kingdom #osferth x reader #osferth #uhtred #ragnar #ubbe #hvitserk #Sigurd #bjorn #ivar #vikings x reader #the last kingdom x reader #vikings fanfiction #the last kingdom fanfic #osferth imagine #uhtred imagine #osferth fanfic #ragnar imagine #ubbe imagine #hvitserk imagine #sigurd imagine #bjorn imagine #ivar imagine #lokabrenna #vikings imagine #the last kingdom imagine #ewan mitchell

[love-holics]

open book

pairing: ten x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 727

You shut the door behind you quickly, leaning your back against it and closing your eyes in relief. You took a deep breath and stayed there for a moment, trying to ground yourself. The plastic red cup in your hand was still full. You bolted from the kitchen so quickly that you weren't even sure what was in it. You sighed and opened your eyes slowly, lifting the cup to your lips. You arm stopped midair when you locked eyes with someone else in the room.

Your eyes grew wide, not realizing you were being watched the whole time. "Oh-- Sorry. I didn't know anyone else was in here. I'll get going." You turned to leave, bracing yourself to join the party again.

"No, stay. You're good," he said, an amused smile on his face. "Besides, it looks like that's the last thing you want to do right now."

You smiled sadly. "Is it that obvious?"

"Who are you hiding from?" he asked, tucking a strand of blond hair behind his ear.

You joined him on the balcony. The music sounded muffled as you walked further away from the door. "My ex." You swallowed, feeling embarrassed of your sudden fight-or-flight response to seeing them.

"Bad breakup?"

"Not really. I'm still in that awkward phase of not knowing how to make small talk with someone you thought would be around forever, I guess." You sighed and leaned forward on the railing. "So I ran. I'm not proud of it," you said with a chuckle.

He hummed in understanding and looked up at the night sky. You couldn't help but notice his beautiful profile. "Are you hiding from something too?" you asked.

He shook his head and smiled. "Just needed a minute alone." He saw your eyes dart towards the door and guessed you were thinking about leaving again. "And no, I was not hinting that you should leave," he chuckled. "You would make a terrible poker player."

You laughed. "I know. I'm far too easy to read."

"I like that." His smile was warm. You blushed and he smiled even wider.

You sipped your drink and looked up at the stars. You knew you had to leave the room sometime, but there was something both comforting and charming about this stranger that made you want to stay. You turned to look at him again. He had beautiful tattoos adorning his arm. You wanted to trace them with your fingers while he told you the inspiration behind each one.

"Do you have any?" he asked, breaking the spell you were under. You blushed in embarrassment, not realizing you had been staring at him. He chuckled again. It was a pretty sound.

"No, but yours are gorgeous."

"Thank you. I designed them myself." He beamed with pride.

"Wow! You're very talented." You let your eyes linger on them for an extra second taking in this new information.

"I can tell you mean that," he said with a smile.

"You make me feel a lot better about wearing my heart on my sleeve," you said with a chuckle.

"I think it's something to be proud of. What's the point of anything if we're not being our most authentic selves?"

"True." You nodded in agreement. "You're very easy to talk to."

"So are you." He smiled warmly.

You locked eyes again. He was glowing in the moonlight. It felt like time had slowed down and it was just you two in the world. You didn't even know his name, but his presence was captivating. His phone lit up with a message and the spell was broken. You swallowed and forced yourself to turn your attention to the sky again.

He looked at you apologetically after reading the message. "I've got to go."

"Thanks for keeping me company." You smiled sadly, knowing you may never see him again. You felt yourself missing his warmth already.

"I'd love to do it again sometime if you need a hiding partner." He held out his phone for you to put in your number and chuckled as he watched your face perk up with excitement.

You laughed in embarrassment at your obvious reaction. "Here you go," you said, handing his phone back.

He typed out a quick message to you before leaving with his dazzling smile. "I'm Ten, by the way. It was nice to meet you."

#ten x reader #nct ten x reader #wayv ten x reader #nct ten fluff #wayv ten fluff #nct ten drabble #wayv ten drabble #nct imagines #wayv imagines #nct scenarios #wayv scenarios #nct fluff #wayv fluff #nct drabbles #wayv drabbles #ten lee x reader #ten lee fluff

[bookworm551]

The Great War | Part 2 | Neteyam Sully x Omatikaya!reader

Summary: You and Neteyam were childhood friends, always looking out for each other, but when the Sky People returned, neither of you could have anticipated the way it would affect your relationship with one another.

A/N: First off, I just want to say that for everyone who enjoyed the first part, I want to give y’all a lil kiss on the forehead. I definitely got carried away (again), so I split what was going to be part 2 into parts 2 and 3, so I’ll have the next one up real soon. Also, in case you can’t tell, I firmly believe that Neteyam’s love language is physical touch. Hope you enjoy!

6.1k words

Warnings: canon-typical violence, angst

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

It was ten days before you were allowed outside the camp again. Though you had tried to get out sooner, you were under strict orders to rest from Neteyam and (more convincingly) Mo'at. You were bored out of your mind most of the time, but Tuk had been very sweet to visit you in her abundant free time. Kiri had also taken it upon herself to become your designated healer, much to Neteyam's comfort.

He had visited as often as he could. It was sweet, but you couldn't help but feel like he was hovering somewhat over you. He treated you like you were going to shatter if you so much as stood up. You knew he was just being cautious, but you were starting to feel suffocated in the tent.

Now, you had been given the all-clear to travel out into the forest for the first time. Your side still ached if you stretched too far, but for the most part, you felt fine. You still experienced headaches as a result of hitting your head against the crate, but you didn't want to be coddled any more than you already had been, so you didn't say anything about them.

Walking amongst the vibrant plants, you breathed in the fresh forest scent. It was refreshing to be in an open space after lying for so long in the dimness of the healing tent. You had no real destination in mind as you walked about, you just wanted to get out of the village. Besides, Kiri agreed that stretching your legs and being in the sun would do you some good after your days spent inside.

"Don't overdo it," she warned you as you pulled yourself over a large boulder. Your side ached dully, but you ignored it. "You sound like Neteyam," you called out over your shoulder. "I'll be fine." You heard her chuckle behind you. "If something happens to you, he'll skin me alive," she said.

You rolled your eyes. Even Kiri could see the overprotectiveness of her older brother. It was true though; he would be upset if something happened, which was why you didn't tell him you were going out.

"I want to go up," you told your friend as you stared up at the light dappling the leaves overhead. Catching up to you, Kiri followed your gaze at the canopy above. "We can go slow," she conceded. "But you have to tell me if you're hurting. If something happens, you're going to be back in the healing tents for another 2 weeks."

That was incentive enough for you to be mostly honest with her, but it was hard to be completely truthful when admitting you were in pain just made you feel weak. Before you could start climbing, however, a figure emerged from the brush nearby.

"What are you doing?" Neteyam asked as he caught sight of you up on top of the boulder you just climbed. You huffed in mild exasperation. Of course he was here. You had deliberately left while he was out to avoid his concerned objections.

"Getting some fresh air," you stated simply. "Care to join?"

He shot you and Kiri a look of disapproval. "You should not be climbing," he told you sternly. "You could reopen your wound." You sighed at his warning. You were starting to become annoyed by his constant caution. It was just a few days ago he protested the idea of you walking around, so you knew that at every milestone, you were going to hear some sort of resistance from him.

"She is doing fine," Kiri defended you. "I am with her to make sure she doesn't strain herself." Neteyam, you could tell, was still hesitant to let you out of his sight. "I'm just going around to stretch my legs," you said. "You can come, but you can't stop me from going."

He sighed and shook his head, but you were pleased by the small smile that tugged at his lips. Pulling himself up to where you and Kiri were standing, he said, "I don't think I can stop you from doing anything." You smiled back at him. "I'm glad you see the truth," you replied triumphantly.

The three of you pressed on through the foliage together. It wasn't long before Kiri became distracted by the beauty of the forest. You always found her endless wonder endearing. "How did you know we were out here?" You asked Neteyam as Kiri strayed away from the two of you.

"Tuk," he responded simply. You huffed out a sharp breath, peeved at the betrayal of the youngest Sully. He smirked at your reaction. "She didn't mean to tell," he explained. "She was complaining to a friend about how my grandmother made her stay behind to help her instead of going with you, and I just so happened to hear."

"I see," you replied solemnly. "Then I suppose she is forgiven." There was a brief pause, and you could feel his eyes on you. Meeting his gaze, you saw that he looked a little crestfallen. "You do not have to hide these things from me," he told you gently. You glanced away in discomfort. It wasn't that you were trying to hide things from him, but you just wanted a little break from his constant oversight.

"I know you're worried," you began carefully, "but sometimes, it feels like you are too worried. I am strong and healing well." You gestured to the laceration, now a large scab, that traced across the right half of your stomach. His eyes fixed on it for a moment before he blinked hard and looked away. You caught his moment of discomfort and sighed.

The both of you carried on walking in half-awkward silence. You pulled yourself up onto a large fallen log that was obstructing your path and leaped down onto the lower ground, the impact sending a jolt of pain across your stomach, but you managed to stifle your reaction.

"Did that hurt?" Neteyam asked. Okay, maybe you didn't manage as well as you thought.

"Just a little tight," you dismissed. He looked at you with a concerned gaze, evidently not believing you. Taking a deep breath, you turned to face directly in front of him and grabbed his broad shoulders with both hands. You held him for a moment and stared up into his eyes.

"You are too worried," you told him after a heartbeat. "I am not going to break. I need you to trust me when I say I am fine." You looked up at him pleadingly, keeping your hands resting on his shoulders. He gazed down at you softly with a small sigh. He brought his hands up and wrapped them around your forearms.

"I'm sorry," he said gently, rubbing his thumbs softly back and forth across your skin. "You are right, I am worried about you." You smiled faintly and corrected him, "Too worried." He rolled his eyes before nodding. "Alright, too worried," he conceded. "I will stop."

You nodded your head gratefully. "Thank you," you said, dropping your hands from his shoulders. Neteyam smiled at you, then made an exaggerated thinking face. "Well," he began reflectively, "I will never stop worrying about you. How can I not worry about you when you do stupid things all the time?" You rolled your eyes and shoved him playfully. He laughed.

"And you never listen to me!" He continued as you turned and started walking again. "How am I not supposed to worry?" You couldn't help but smile at that. "I do listen to you," you argued, "when you say something worth listening to."

After that day, you noticed Neteyam's overly cautious behavior diminish. Occasionally throughout the week, he would catch you wincing when you stretched your right arm up too quickly, or he would notice how you rubbed your temple when a migraine hit, but respecting the boundary you set, he never said anything.

A few days after your walk in the forest, you were invited by a handful of your tribesmen close to your age to join them in a morning hunt. You were extremely grateful for the chance to get out and do something more than wander around aimlessly with Kiri. For young adult Na'vi, hunting and foraging were sort of social events amongst friends, so you were eager to join.

As the sons of the Olo'eyktan, Neteyam and Lo'ak were also invited to come with the group. Besides the two Sully boys and yourself, there were three more in the party. Getting ready to go out, you could see the look of unease on Neteyam's face, but he said nothing until the rest of the group made their way toward the edge of the ikran rookery.

"Why don't we go on foot?" He asked. Everyone paused and looked at each other, mildly confused. "Why would we do that?" Lo'ak asked the question everyone else was thinking. Neteyam's eyes shifted to you uneasily, and you clenched your jaw, expecting him to call you out in front of the others.

"Isn't your ikran injured?" He asked you. It was a cover, and you knew it, but at least he didn't outright mention your injury as the reason for wanting to hunt on foot. You gave him a warning look. "I checked on her yesterday. Her injuries have healed nicely," you told him, emphasizing every word of your last sentence pointedly.

He understood your passive statement and held your stare. As subtly as possible, you gave him a look that said, Don't you dare. A beat of tense silence passed between you before he looked away and nodded. Taking your eyes off of him, you looked over at Lo'ak. His eyes were awkwardly glancing back and forth between you and his brother, one of his human-like eyebrows raised. He clearly caught the silent conversation you just had, and you felt your ears warm in embarrassment.

Walking into the rookery, you each called out to your ikran. Kazi descended before you, and you gave her an affectionate rub on the crest of her jaw. Her wings had indeed healed nicely in the time since the accident, and you were eager to take to the skies with her again. You could feel Neteyam's eyes on you as you checked the cinching of your saddle, and when you glanced over at him, you could read the apology on his face.

Huffing out a little sigh, you looked away. Sometimes, you wanted to stay mad at him, but he always made it so hard.

You attached your queue to Kazi and mounted onto her back. The six of you took off of the ground and rose over the trees. Feeling the rushing air around you made you realize just how cramped you've felt since your injury, and you couldn't help but give a few whoops of glee.

The sun shone brightly overhead. Even though you loved the feeling of its warmth on your skin, being in the brightness after spending so much time in the dimness of camp caused your head to hurt some. It didn't help that after 2 weeks of resting, your body wasn't so used to the physical demands of flying anymore. The tension in your core and thighs to stay balanced caused your breathing to become labored after a while, which didn't help with the onsetting headache.

Finally, the group swooped down to a clearing in the trees. There, you dismounted with the rest of the group and tried to hide your breathlessness. Taking your bow and a few arrows, you joined the others in descending to the forest floor. Given the time of year, you were all familiar with the migration habits of the deer-like yerik and knew there would be several in this area.

Jumping down from branch to branch gave you a rush of adrenaline you had been missing for so long. While still in the trees, you and your companions laughed and chatted together. Mekar, one of the hunters among you, was talking about the last mission the war party had flown just a few days prior. "Too bad you were taken out by a human," he told you with a laugh. "You could have seen how much damage we did."

His comment burned. It was embarrassing enough having to be on bed rest for so long, but it didn't help that everyone in the clan was aware of it, too. Already peeved by Neteyam's earlier attempt to coddle you, Mekar's words pushed you deeper into your irritation.

"That's not funny," Neteyam told him sharply. Being the son of Toruk Makto, his words held a lot of weight, so his quick reprimand shut down the other hunter. You moved in irritated silence, thinking about how you've been set back by your injury.

One of the worst consequences of your accident was that you were not able to conduct the Uniltaron trial at your designated time. The Dream Quest requires much mental and physical strength, both of which were affected by your injury. You were keenly aware that you and Lo'ak were the only ones in the group who had not completed the trial, though Lo'ak had nearly a full year left before he was eligible.

Your group finally reached the floor of the forest. You felt out of breath, and you could feel your heart beating hard in your chest which was making your head pound. Taking a few steadying breaths, you closed your eyes for a second, trying to ignore your migraine. When you looked up, you could see that your friends had already started to move in one direction, so you quickly sprinted after them.

You all moved in silence, looking for signs of a nearby herd. Lo'ak found it first, a single hoof print in the dirt. You all followed his lead, and soon enough, you could all see a large gathering of yerik through the foliage.

Lo'ak got first rights to the herd. He made a quick, clean kill of a buck, but as expected, the whole herd scattered as it fell. You all shot after the fleeing creatures, but Mekar was the only other hunter to catch one in the haunches, moving in swiftly to make a clean kill with his knife.

As you and the others gathered your arrows, you noticed a chittering noise in the distance, the sound of a forest hen. Perking up, you listened closely and turned in the direction it came from.

"There are forest hens over there," you told your friends, pointing in the direction of the noise. They listened attentively until another chittering noise echoed quietly in the distance. "Yeah," one of the other hunters, Meya, began, "but I would rather stay on the yerik." She pointed at where the herd had run off in the opposite direction of the forest hens.

The rest of the group deliberated until you all agreed on a strategy. Lo'ak and Mekar would take their kills back up to their ikran and try to find more quarry, Meya and the other member of the party, Nazátu, would pursue the herd, and you and Neteyam would go after the forest hens. You would all reconvene back at the top of the canopy by the time of high noon.

You and Neteyam set off in the direction of the forest hens. You were grateful to separate from the others since you felt that you didn't have to hide just how out of shape you were in front of Neteyam. You both kept a brisk pace through the brush, moving as silently as possible.

"You seem to be holding up well," he commented. "I should not have doubted you earlier." You smiled gratefully at him. "My head does hurt a little bit," you admitted. "But otherwise, I feel fine."

It was a half-truth. The whole truth was that your head hurt a lot. The pounding in your head hadn't diminished as you had hoped, but you refused to let it affect your ability to hunt.

You both reverted to careful silence as you stayed alert for the sounds of the hens. There were a few silvery feathers you found on the ground to encourage your tracking, and you carried on quickly in the direction they led to. You were eager to get this hunt over with now that your migraine had settled in deep into your temples.

A flutter through the trees caught your attention, and there a few yards ahead, you finally saw a flock of about 10 fowl-like creatures. Some were on the ground, but a few were walking along some low-hanging branches. Forest hens were bulky and had limited flight capabilities. They could be found scratching at the forest floor or low tree branches to eat any insects they could find.

Coming up beside you, Neteyam motioned at the ones on the ground and then pointed at himself. He was telling you that he would aim for the low ones while you could go for one in the branches. You nodded and notched an arrow. You aimed for the fattest bird you saw, and in sync, both you and Neteyam shot and hit your targets.

In a frantic flurry, the remaining hens took flight higher into the canopy. You managed to reset an arrow on your bow and shoot another one down as it was flying off before it could disappear with the rest of the flock.

Stepping out of your cover, you and Neteyam retrieved your quarry and arrows. "Looks like I'm beating you," you teased. He rolled his eyes at you playfully. "Show off," he muttered, tying his hen onto his hip. "Let's keep after them." You hesitated. Now that you had a prize to bring back, you were anxious to leave. You didn't want to raise any concern from Neteyam, but your migraine was really starting to get out of hand. Though you'd been having bad headaches since your accident, this was by far the worst one.

Despite your pain, you nodded at his suggestion wordlessly. You slung your hens over your shoulders and trekked after your friend. It didn't take you long before you caught up to the flock again. Aiming again, you both shot at the birds, hitting them cleanly.

As before, the rest of the flock scattered. This time, Neteyam got another shot in and took down another hen. He gave you a cheeky smile. "Now we're even," he said triumphantly. You tried to smile back, but your head was pounding painfully, causing you to falter.

He noticed your wince. "Is everything okay?" He asked in concern. You closed your eyes tightly for a moment and nodded. Looking up at him, his gaze was full of worry. You thought about what you had said to him in the forest a few days prior. I need you to trust me when I say I am fine. Well, now, you weren't so fine, and you felt you owed him your honesty.

"My head hurts," you admitted quietly. "It really, really hurts." You ground your teeth in pain. "Like an arrow through my head."

Setting his bow down, Neteyam put one hand at the base of your neck and looked into your eyes with care. "How long has it been hurting like this?" He asked with worry. You thought about it for a second. "It started when we left the village," you confessed, "but it did not get bad until we started tracking the yerik."

You waited for a lecture from him on how you should've told him sooner, but it never came. "Do you get them a lot?" He asked gently. You nodded reluctantly before clarifying, "Usually not this bad, though." He gave a small nod, and you could see all the concerned thoughts in his head, but he didn't say any of them. Instead, he lifted his hand from your shoulder to briefly cradle the side of your head. You leaned into his touch and sighed as the pain pulsed in your temples.

"Let's go," he said softly as he dropped his arm back to his side. "We can try to find Lo'ak and Mekar to let them know we're leaving." You nodded, disappointed in yourself for not being able to withstand the headache. How were you supposed to return to fight if you couldn't even manage an easy morning hunt?

Picking up your kills, the two of you headed back in the direction of where your ikran were waiting. The journey back up to the top seemed longer than you remembered, but maybe that was just the fact that going up is harder than coming down, especially with a raging migraine. Eventually, you found yourself at the top, but neither Lo'ak nor Mekar were anywhere to be found.

"Are you okay to go by yourself?" Neteyam asked. "If we both go, the others will think something has happened." You nodded. "I know, I'll be fine." He didn't look happy to let you go alone, but you took off on Kazi, leaving him behind as he watched your figure disappear over the trees.

When you made it back to the village, you immediately headed over to the healing tents, but to your sore disappointment, neither Mo'at nor Kiri were anywhere to be found. You thought about asking around, but you didn't want anyone to know you were in pain, and your pride won out as usual. You looked in one of the many baskets lying around the tent and found a bitter plant root that you knew would help you fall asleep.

You took and ate it as quickly as you could and washed it down with water. Then, you made your way to where your encampment was situated. You laid down on your sleeping mat, curled into a ball, and held your head until the root took effect, and you drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

Waking up, the pain had diminished significantly. You propped yourself upright and drank some water you had stored. Exiting your tent, it didn't take long before you found Neteyam, Lo'ak, and the others from the hunting party sitting together skinning their game. They must have returned not long ago, meaning it was just past high noon.

"Hey," Lo'ak called out as he noticed your approach, "you feeling alright?" You looked at Neteyam sharply. He subtly shook his head, silently telling you that he hadn't told them the reason why you left. "Yeah," you replied casually, "my body just isn't quite used to all the activity yet, so I came back early." Lo'ak nodded understandingly, and the rest of the group seemed to find your excuse acceptable. You shot Neteyam a grateful look, and he smiled softly.

"These are some nice birds," Meya complimented, nodding at the forest hens you and Neteyam had hunted. "Thanks," you replied sincerely, sitting down to clean them. You all worked to prepare your own game, talking and laughing in easy companionship for the rest of the afternoon.

Three days later, you were invited back to participate in the war meetings. You were eager to prove yourself again, and even more so to destroy as many humans as you could. You felt confident in your abilities, especially since you hadn't had even a minor headache since your hunting trip. There were a few reconnaissance missions that you flew with no action, but after gathering enough information, the Olo'eyktan believed it was time for another offensive attack.

You sat and watched as Jake outlined the plan for the next attack on the Sky People's weapons containment center. After a detailed description of the plan, Jake finished up his briefing with a nod and, "Dismissed." You all stood up together, and you started making your way toward Neteyam.

You called out to him to get his attention. He turned towards you, and you jogged to catch up to him. Approaching, you noticed the bizarre look on his face. He seemed startled out of deep thought. You couldn't deny that Jake's plan seemed bold, but you knew that you and the other warriors were more than capable of carrying it out. You opened your mouth to say something, but you noticed that Neteyam was looking past you at someone.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a moment?" The voice of the Olo'eyktan was right behind you. You whipped around to face your leader in surprise. "Forgive me," you said respectfully and stepped out of the way to allow him to speak with his son.

"No, no," he said to you, glancing at Neteyam for a moment before looking back at you. "I want to speak with you." You felt your stomach tighten with sudden anxiety. "Oh," was all you could say. You glanced back at Neteyam, but he already had his back turned to you and was walking away.

"Listen," Jake began, "I know you are eager to join the party, and you are a fierce warrior." You felt your stomach sink with his words. It seemed that he could see the anxiety on your face because he sighed and glanced around in discomfort. "I think it's best that you remain behind," he said finally.

You felt your heart drop.

"What?"

Jake sighed again. "I need you to stay behind," he repeated. You shook your head faintly. You felt dazed, and your head started to ache for the first time since the hunt. "I am healed," you insisted urgently. "And my ikran is as well." He looked at you unconvinced. "I am well!" You repeated, gesturing to the fresh scar on your stomach.

Jake shook his head. "Listen," he said in a low voice, "I know what it is like when it feels like your head is going to split apart, okay? I know how it feels, and I know how distracting and debilitating it can be in a moment of action."

You were paralyzed, unable to say anything.

"You are a great fighter," Jake repeated, "but I need you to be all there when we fight. Any other condition and you become a liability to yourself and the others."

You felt like your chest was tightening. "No," you whispered desperately. "I can still fight." Your throat tightened as you fought off tears. Jake looked down at you regretfully. "I'm sorry," he said resolutely, "but I have made up my mind. If you are suffering from migraines, you should stay back."

You looked up at him in confusion. "But how..." you trailed off in the middle of your question and your blood ran cold.

Only one person knew.

The realization hit you like an angstik. He told. He told.

You looked away from the clan leader and stared at where Neteyam was just standing moments ago, trying to process what you'd just heard. How could he do that to you? The pain of Neteyam's betrayal quickly turned into boiling anger that filled your chest. Jake placed a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you, but you felt numb. "I'm sorry, kid," he said, but his words fell on deaf ears.

"Am I dismissed?" you managed to ask finally, not able to look the Olo'eyktan in the eye. "Yes, dismissed," he answered. You turned and walked away. For a moment, you walked aimlessly away from the war council, all your focus was directed at not crying in public, and the effort it took increased the intensity of your headache. The very thing that prevented you from fighting for your people.

With that thought, your hurt, confusion, and anger narrowed in your mind to point at one person: Neteyam. You broke into a brisk sprint towards his family's tent. You didn't think about what you would say to him or what you would do if his other family members were present. You didn't even really have any thoughts, just rage.

You burst into the tent. There he was, looking to be in the middle of packing some of his supplies and speaking to someone. When he looked up at you as you entered, his expression immediately turned to guilt. The sight of him caused tears to refill in your eyes, which just made you angrier.

In a flash, you crossed the floor of the tent and shoved him as hard as you could. He stumbled back but quickly regained his balance. "How could you?" you seethed. You had meant to scream it, but you were afraid that your voice would betray you if you raised it above a whisper. Neteyam raised one arm in front of him between you as a pacifying gesture, his fingertips a hair's breadth from your collarbone.

"Kiri, would you please give us a moment?" he asked the other person in the tent without looking away from you. You gave Kiri's sitting form a quick glance before returning your glare to Neteyam, but it was enough for you to see the startled expression on your friend's face.

"What is going—"

"Now," Neteyam punctuated with force.

Without another word, Kiri hurriedly stood up and walked out. With his sister gone, you smacked his raised arm away from yourself. You were fuming and didn't even know where to start with your anger. "Your father has grounded me from the mission," you told him and pointed an accusatory finger at him, "because of you."

Neteyam clenched his jaw and took a deep breath before speaking. "It is for your safety. If you are not well, you should not be flying during a dangerous miss—"

"I am well," you interrupted angrily. "I am well, and I can fly during a dangerous mission. You had no right to tell him what is not your concern. You have no right to interfere with anything." Your voice was getting louder now, the white-hot anger you felt in your chest burned in the words you spoke.

Neteyam scoffed quietly and looked at you with a scowl that would have chilled you if you hadn't already been so angry with him. "You are not well," he countered in a low, hard voice. "I saw you hunting. You were in so much pain, you couldn't even manage to focus on the trail. How is that supposed to make me feel knowing you wished to return to battle?" He gestured loosely to the entrance of the tent as though the battle was right outside.

"That was one time, Neteyam!" you shouted at him in frustration. "And now I can't join the mission because of a headache I had on a hunt." "But it was not just one time, was it?" he retorted in an accusatory tone. "You have had migraines since your accident, but you have been keeping them secret from everyone."

"No, I should have kept them a secret from everyone," you spat, tears returning to your eyes. "But I was a fool and told you instead. I trusted you." He flinched slightly at your cutting comment, but he didn't back down. "You have become a liability to yourself and the other warriors," he stated matter-of-factly. "I did the right thing and told my father to inform him of your weakness.

Weakness. That stung worse than anything he could've said to you.

Immediately, Neteyam realized what he had said. "No, I did not mean to—"

"Is that how you see me?" You cut him off quietly, voice filled with pain. "Weak?" You felt a single tear overcome all of your effort to withhold it and slide down your cheek. Neteyam shook his head apologetically and took a step toward you, but you took a step back away from him. "That is not true," he insisted gently. "I did not mean to say that."

You wanted to believe him, but memories of his behavior flashed through your mind over the past few weeks, and anger and hurt stirred in your chest. "But it is true," you accused as you glared up at him, wiping the tear off your cheek in anger. "You have been treating me like a helpless child ever since we invaded the Sky People's base."

Neteyam clenched his jaw and looked away from you in frustration. You continued yelling at him. "You have been consumed with a desire to control my every move ever since. I shouldn't wander too far into the forest alone. I shouldn't climb too high into the trees. I shouldn't ride Kazi anymore." With every sentence, you felt your anger and frustration melt into hurt and sadness, and you could feel more hot tears falling from your eyes. "And now I cannot fight anymore. I cannot fight because you think I'm weak!"

"You almost died!" Neteyam shouted.

You started and stood in mute surprise in front of him, all of your anger replaced by pure shock. He had never yelled at you before. After all of the strain that your relationship had been placed under, the snide comments, the frustrated arguments, he had never once raised his voice above an angry reprimand, and honestly, it was frightening.

"You almost died!" he repeated, still shouting. "And I could do nothing! Nothing!" His chest was heaving, and he glared down at you with so much anger and pain, it made you take a step back. He noticed the step, and it seemed to bring him out of his emotional outburst somewhat. He turned away from you and paced a few steps heatedly around the tent. You watched in mute shock.

"I cannot let you go too far into the woods alone or climb too high or ride your ikran because every second you are out of my sight, all I can see is the image of you bleeding out, unconscious, on the ground." You could see the tension in his whole body, his hands balled into fists at his sides as he spoke. He looked over at you after a moment, and you saw the anguish on his face as he recalled the memory. "I thought you were dead," he whispered in a taut voice. "And that was the worst moment of my life."

You were so overwhelmed that you couldn't stand to look at him anymore. Now, amongst the betrayal and anger you had been feeling, guilt stirred in your stomach, leaving the taste of bile in your throat. This was too much. You were feeling too many things to think rationally or come up with an argument. And your head hurt so much.

Neteyam heaved a regretful sigh, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. You had never seen him cry before. He crossed over to you, and even if you had wanted to back away, you felt rooted to the spot. Coming in closely, he grabbed your face with both hands. For one breathless moment, you thought he was going to kiss you, but instead, he just held you and stared at your face longingly.

"I do not think you are weak," Neteyam muttered finally, breaking the tense silence. "But you...you are my weakness. I am sorry I betrayed your trust, but I cannot see you harmed again. I will not allow it."

You didn't say anything. You couldn't say anything. You had reached your emotional limit. Your heart ached as you took in his image. He was strong and stern and beautiful, and you wished again for the millionth time that the war had never come to your home, had never come between you.

You sighed finally and shook your head. "You do not get to decide my fate for me," you said flatly, pulling away from his touch. "You do not have the right." Without waiting for an answer, you walked out of the tent.

Right outside, Kiri, Lo'ak, and Tuk were sitting together. They had obviously been listening to your fight, and the way they scrambled to stand did not make them appear any more innocent. You sighed and turned the other way, not wanting to talk to anybody at the moment. Kiri called your name, but you ignored her and walked away as quickly as you could.

The siblings stood in the darkness for a moment, embarrassed at being caught eavesdropping. Then, Lo'ak decided to go in and check on his brother. He walked in cautiously and found him with his eyes squeezed shut as he rubbed his forehead in exasperation. Hearing Lo'ak enter, Neteyam looked over at his brother with a burning glare.

"Bro, what did you do?" his younger brother asked with concern. Neteyam let out a deep sigh. After a second, he responded, "The right thing." Lo'ak was unconvinced, and so was Neteyam.

Part 3

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